#can you tell i really enjoy drawing splinter

[hellishgayliath]

Donnie and his pops go out for some ice cream 🥺

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Blush | Leonardo

this isn't me being modest or fishing for compliments, but i found writing this surprisingly difficult to write for some reason? and i'm not exactly ecstatic with how it ended up, but i've spent a while trying to edit and improve it (and of course tumblr decided to not save my edits, TWICE) and i honestly think this is as good as it's going to get because the more i edit and worry over it, the more difficult it becomes! with that said, i do hope you enjoy it!!

2007 universe!!

warnings: making out? there's not much honestly, leo being a little unhinged and possessive? she/her pronouns used once or twice, everyone is 18+!!

summary: leo likes it a little too much when you blush

word count: 1930 (honestly surprised by the length)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first time you meet the turtles, you feel faint even after all the preparation you've done with April. She'd told you all about them, yet she hadn't mentioned how intimidating and handsome they were, and you stumble over your introductions, stuttering and blushing, feeling small and unimpressive, like you're back to being a schoolgirl with an unattainable crush.

You have to repeat your name, your shy mumbles too quiet even for their mutant hearing, and you flush as Leonardo smiles patiently at you and ignores Raphael’s eyeroll. Donatello is kind and tells you to not to take his brother’s grumpiness to heart, and Michelangelo talks so much that you don’t have to for the rest of the evening.

From then on, Leo makes an effort to be kind to you; he's always patiently listening to you even as you trip over words, especially on the days where you can barely glance in his direction without blushing, leaning close and bestowing you with an intense attention you're not sure you'll ever get used to. 

And maybe sometimes Leo plays up how soft-spoken you are. You are quiet, and you do have a tendency to mumble your words, yes, but he’s not deaf and he really doesn’t need to invade your personal space as often as he does. It’s just so cute the way you fluster without fail every time he leans in, his breath fanning against your face as he asks you to repeat yourself. 

His brothers and your aunt aren’t as oblivious as you; Donnie shoots him pointed looks that he pointedly ignores, Raph’s eyes are permanently rolling, and by now Mikey, who had initially been supportive, has begun to find it sickening, miming puking in the background each time Leo so much as looks in your direction. Even Splinter has joined in, completely unsubtle in his offhand mentioning of grandchildren whenever he sees the both of you, whether you’re alone or together. And April... well, she had cornered him in the dojo and promised that he'd be running back to the rainforest she found him in if he ever did you wrong. 

He had no intention of ever hurting you, or letting anyone else hurt you, for that matter. You’re just so endearing; so precious and shy, a snowflake that has yet to feel heat, and he so desperately wants to be the only one to light that fire within you and watch you melt.

Perhaps it's a little obsessive, but everything you do, usually unknowingly, draws him in like a moth to a flame. And it’s a little mean, maybe, the way he delights as you fluster and flush with only the tiniest hints of encouragement from him, but it sends a thrill through him each time. You’re so shy, so innocent and trusting, it’s impossible for him not to take advantage of that (even if April’s threats ring in his ears whenever he does).

So he invites you over, a movie night with just the two of you because of course Mikey is busy doing something silly and senseless that you won't be interested in, and you know Donnie's always busy doing something painfully nerdy that's way too boring to be fun, and Raph is busy doing something boneheaded with Casey that's far too dangerous.

It's just you and Leo.

You're both quiet for the most part, but keenly aware of each other's presence. It would be impossible for him to miss the way you practically stop breathing whenever his leg brushes oh-so lightly against yours, and he knows you're not paying much attention to the movie because he isn't either, and you're not exactly subtle with the way your eyes keep flicking away from the screen to sneak a peek when you think he isn't looking. 

The eleventh time you do this, he decides enough is enough, and lets his eyes catch yours.

He keeps eye contact for a little too long to be casual, heart racing at the way your eyes dart away awkwardly but seemingly can’t resist finding his again no matter how embarrassed you feel. God, you’re so cute, he wants to squish your cheeks and eat you alive. He must not be doing a very good job at hiding that desire because Donnie shoots him a warning look as he passes by to grab something from the kitchen, and Leo elects to ignore it, sticking his foot out suddenly and smiling innocently as his brother stumbles and glowers but continues his walk without comment.

He slides his arm casually over the back of the couch when he’s certain you’re alone again, unable to cover his smirk as you stiffen and your breath hitches. He’s not even touching you and he wants to laugh at how innocent you are; he feels like a wolf waiting to pounce on a lamb and it really shouldn’t excite him this much. The thought makes him shuffle just a little closer, disguising his movements as a casual adjustment in his seating. He flashes you a kind smile. “You okay?”

Your smile in return is tight and nervous, and you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact this time. You nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak without humiliating yourself further. That, of course, is ruined as Leo drops his hand to the bare skin of your shoulder from where your shirt has slipped, rubbing your warm skin gently. You jump, a squeak slipping past your lips, and you feel your face grow even hotter.

Leo looks at you with feigned concern, lips rolled together to hide his grin, pushing an earnest façade to conceal his amusement. Your skin is so soft, he thinks, brushing his fingers over it again. “You sure?”

You swallow thickly as his palm flattens and trails towards your neck. “Y-yes.”

He’s even closer now, muscled thigh pressed against yours as he peers at you. “You’re looking a little flushed…”

You look up and meet his unfaltering stare; his eyes are dark, pupils eclipsing warm brown irises, and you feel like they’re swallowing you whole the longer you get lost in his gaze. His hand slides up and you shudder as he cups your jaw gently. There’s only an inch or so between your faces now, and you’re not sure when you got so close, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the rush of blood in your ears as your heart beats erratically. “Leo,” you whisper uncertainly, and his eyes darken before he presses his lips to yours.

You’re still for a moment, frozen as butterflies flutter so violently in your stomach you think you might vomit – which would be the most mortifying thing to ever happen to you (and you’ve had a lot of mortifying things happen to you) and you might have to take a leaf out of Leo’s book and head to Central America and cut all contact with everyone you know.

You're not really sure what you're doing, and your actions feel delayed, like you're moving in slow motion or you're underwater and your movements are sluggish despite your best efforts, but you must be doing something right because he groans quietly against your mouth and the sound makes your abdomen clench. He pulls back and your lips are tingling as he catches his breath. 

He looks the way you feel; a mess, flushed with his chest heaving, and you feel a little smug even as you blush further when he smirks at you. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps smirking at you because he’s insufferable like that, and you realise he’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. 

It's a Herculean effort, but you manage to return his heated stare. 

“I want it all.” Leo is gazing into your eyes in complete seriousness and, as much as you want to look away and bury your face into your hands, something keeps you transfixed.

"All?" It's a miracle that you find your voice, even if it's the weakest it's ever sounded, wheezing and as soft as the skin under his calloused palms.

Leo's eyes somehow darken further. "This isn't just a game to me, or a one-time thing. I want everything with you."

You swallow the reticence that threatens to burst from your throat and lick your lips, the taste of his own a heavy weight against yours. His eyes follow the movement, the intensity of his stare making you feel dizzy. “I’ve never done this before,” you admit, heat crawling up your neck. “I’ve never even been in a relationship before."

Leo smiles at you, a knowing curve of his lips, crooked and tender with a hint of mirth, eyes dancing across every inch of your face with your admission as if he can’t decide which spot deserves his attention more. “I want to be your first and last,” he says honestly, voice a little uneven as if he hasn’t yet caught his breath after your kiss.

He’s nervous, you realise, cheeks darker than usual and inflicted with the same timidity that's nestled in your chest – not that he’ll admit to it. His eyes keep flitting about, not in a loving caress, but in a nervy flutter. You make him nervous. You can’t stop the giggle that leaves your lips and, almost instantly, Leo’s nervousness melts away as he raises a non-existent brow. “Something funny?”

Your face is flushed, and you can feel that shyness threatening to rear its head, but you push through and beam a little bashfully at him. “I want that too. I want it all. With you."

Leo blinks slowly and leans in close again. It takes everything within you not to pull away; your face is scorching, and you wonder if it’s actually possible to burn your skin from blushing so fiercely. “Can I kiss you?” His voice is lower than normal, soft and rough at once, deep and dark like it’s filtered through gravel and dripped in honey at the same time, and you kind of want to faint.

“Haven't you already?” you mumble, eyes dropping from his as another wave of heat rushes to your face, resolutely staring just beyond the turtle that’s practically on top of you.

Leo laughs softly, hand on your jaw once more and directing your embarrassed gaze to him. He’s smiling wide and then he’s kissing you again.

It’s still sloppy and tentative, you’re still entirely unsure of what you’re doing and it’s almost embarrassing enough to make you retreat, but then his tongue, long and thick, traces the seal of your lips in question and your brain shuts-down. Hesitantly, you answer, your own tongue shy as it brushes against his and easily forfeits the short fight for dominance, letting him lick your mouth with practiced ease. Any remnants of anxiety over your own inexperience dissipate with every flick of his skilled tongue, and you melt into his embrace.

“Oh my god, Leo’s eating her face.”

Leo pulls back and you squawk, mortified and covering your face as embers of confidence sputter, fleeing from you while Mikey dramatically projectile vomits his nunchucks across the room where they hit the wall with a thud. Your face is on fire, and you die a little on the inside as you realise that the glistening around Leo's mouth is mostly your spit. 

You die a little more and make a mental note to book a flight to Costa Rica when Splinter arrives to investigate the commotion, his son still pressed against you on the couch, and simply murmurs about grandchildren before winking at you.

[vixstarria]

Communication

Surprise surprise, they're no good at it.

This is a continuation of my in-game bardlock series, seeing as I left a large gap in it between an intimate and emotional scene and a whole bunch of unhinged fucking. Sorry about that.

Takes place after Intimacy but can be read as a stand-alone!

Read on AO3

Astarion x named f!Tav

Early Act 3. It has been nice, but it's time they actually figured out what it is they're doing and what comes next.

Hurt/comfort, some fluff and a drop of humour (I am me after all) if you squint, love, angst

TW: some very casual violence and murder

Approximately 3.9k words. 

“Well?” A very giddy Astarion had appeared behind Asmodea. “Let’s go!” 

The party had finally reached the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and were setting up camp near Rivington, after a brief excursion in the area. 

“Go where?” she asked.

“Anywhere! I haven’t seen these streets in sunlight in two centuries.” 

“Now..?”

The city was flooded with refugees. Some child whose mother was definitely not coming for her had seemingly declared herself adopted by the group. There was a towering pile of corpses just outside one of the nearby gates. A circus was in town.

It was nice to finally be back in civilisation.

“Yes, now! Forget the bloody tent, maybe we’ll find an inn to sleep in for a change.”

Nothing had been arranged, set up or planned yet. They had only the vaguest notion of where they were going.

“Sure, a walk sounds lovely right now,” shrugged Asmodea.

It very quickly became obvious that finding an inn would be nigh on impossible. The streets were crowded with refugees, frantic citizens and all those who would either try to keep them in order or prey upon them.

“Are we going anywhere in particular, or are we just... going?” Asmodea asked, trying to make her way through the throng. She had never seen Baldur’s Gate this busy before. 

“There is something I’d like to show you,” answered Astarion. “Some place, to be exact. It’s- hey!”

He realised that he was talking to no one, as they had been separated by a group of dwarves pushing their way through between them. Asmodea smiled at him over their heads, raising her arms in an open-palmed gesture of defeat and resignation.

“Can’t you keep up?” Astarion sighed, rolling his eyes, and reached for her, taking her hand and linking his fingers through hers.

This… This was new, particularly in public, and Asmodea bit her lip, fighting not to smile, as he guided her after him. 

Astarion glanced back over his shoulder at her, to see her grinning. 

“Oh shut up,” he huffed, before spilling into a smile too, despite himself, and drawing her close to kiss her.

“Half-elven whore,” a nearby elven woman muttered to her companion in elvish, tsking in distaste at the sight. Either she did not expect to be heard or understood, or simply did not care.

Astarion turned towards the woman, with a glower, but before he could retaliate with his own snide remark, Asmodea told the elven woman to go fuck herself with a splintered broom, in perfect elvish, and pulled Astarion further down the street before the woman thought of anything else to say.

“Such... delightful use of the True Tongue, dear.” Astarion seemed in equal parts impressed and taken aback. “Don't tell me you’ve been holding out on me this whole time..?”

“Oh, no, I only know a little bit,” laughed Asmodea. 

“Do indulge me.” 

“No, it’s really hardly anything,” she shook her head. “I can count, exchange pleasantries and profanities, know a few songs I can’t translate, and a few odd phrases.” 

“Such as?” 

“I can scream for help in elvish, for one,” she offered. 

“Why would you need to scream for help in elvish..?” 

“Men are more likely to come running if they think it’s a little elven maiden they’re rescuing,” she explained with a sigh. 

Astarion mulled that over with a frown for a bit. 

“I’ll have to take your word for that... What else? And for hells’ sake, just say something, I enjoyed hearing it.” 

She said the first phrase that came to mind.  

Astarion stopped dead in his tracks, with what Asmodea knew to be the expression he held when he was doing his best to keep his face straight.  

“So let’s start with what you think you just said.” 

“...Shit. ...Uhh.” Asmodea gave Astarion a sheepish look. “‘My small children have had nothing to eat for days.’?” 

“Darling,” he said, cupping her cheeks, trying not to laugh. “My love. That’s not quite it... Now, how many people do you think you’ve told you’ve ‘eaten nothing but small children for days’..?” 

“Ah... That explains the reactions,” Asmodea said thoughtfully. 

“Horror?” Astarion finally snickered.

“Usually laughter... I just figured most elves were assholes.” 

Eventually Astarion brought them onto a rooftop that offered an impressive view of the city and surrounding regions.

“It’s so strange to be here in daylight,” he murmured. “This was one of my spots,” he said, turning to Asmodea. “I used to come here at the start of my evenings, alone, and just… enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.” Astarion took a pensive look around. “Admittedly, the tiles weren’t as hot at night, and all the bird shit wasn’t as prominent.” 

They found a place to sit down.

“I thought you would try to get your job done as quickly as possible,” said Asmodea.

“There had to be a certain balance to it.” Astarion shook his head. “Start prowling too early, and the potential targets wouldn’t be ripe for the picking yet. And even if I managed to get someone back to the manor early on in the evening, it would only mean I would have to ‘entertain’ them longer.” He shut his eyes and leaned back against a chimney. “It was better to take some precious solitary repose, when I could.”

“Do you think you might have taken me back to Cazador if you’d met me back then?” Asmodea asked quietly.

Astarion opened his eyes and frowned at the sudden question. 

“Not if I’d ever seen you perform, no,” he deliberated. “I never went for the bards. They were almost my co-conspirators, though they didn’t know it. I couldn’t waste them.” He paused before continuing. “But otherwise, if I’d just bumped into you at a Tavern… Probably, yes. A pretty, reckless stray… You would have been perfect. …Would you have followed?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Probably,” she replied, staring off into the distance.

They sat in silence until Astarion broke it with a question.

“Will you stay with me when all this is over?” 

Just the sheer amount of effort he put into trying to make that question sound casual spoke volumes. 

It caught her off guard. They’d spent many evenings in his tent lazily basking in vague fantasies about an ‘after’, usually concentrating on the idea of being able to stay in bed all day, or the concept of their hair and fingernails being free of dried blood and entrails for a change. They’d never actually discussed any realistic nuance of this ‘after’. Or what it might look like, other than what it wouldn’t look like. 

“Are you certain you want to take Cazador’s place in the ritual..?” she asked, carefully. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Astarion immediately sounded defensive. 

“You don’t even know what it entails or means, not really...” 

“It means having everything I’ve been missing the past two centuries, what else is there to know?” He scoffed. “...You haven’t answered my question,” he said after a pause. 

She said nothing for a while, looking down at her fingernails. 

“Stay and do what..?” 

“Anything!” he exclaimed. “Anything you want. We could do anything. Do you have any idea what I will be capable of? Of the power I will hold. The influence.”

“Yes, yes, legions of wolves, turning into mist,” she recited. “What else… Commanding ghouls, I think?” She threw her head back, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure why you would need to do any of that, though.”

“Unimaginable power, and you mock it…” Astarion said indignantly. “I suppose you would rather go frolic in the woods with Halsin..? …Oh don’t look so shocked, I’ve seen how he looks at you. Sleeping in the dirt, living off the land. Is that what would make you happy?” 

“He looks at you the same way! And must you jump to extremes?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Even if I were interested in Halsin, there is ample space between sleeping in the dirt and sleeping in that gothic monstrosity, in which I might find myself happy.” 

They sat in silence for a while. 

“I don’t think you should go through with it,” she said, finally. “Something about it just doesn’t sit right.” 

Astarion looked at her with an unreadable expression and didn’t say anything. She continued. 

“I know enough stories - and before you roll your eyes at me, there is usually a grain of truth to them – and I’ve read between the lines of enough history texts, to know there is no such thing as a jolly vampire lord that just has a grand ol’ time carousing in their castle. It’s always centred on cruelty, misery and violence.” 

“I suppose you know plenty of stories of jolly vampire spawn,” he spat. 

“Some, as a matter of fact. They usually revolve around romance and redemption.” She sighed and continued, as he let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve never heard of any demonic deals that ended in anything that wasn’t disastrous, either. The point is, nothing that involves blood or soul sacrifice has ever made anyone happy.” She looked in the direction of Cazador’s palace. “We should kill Cazador, burn it all to the ground and dance on the ashes. I will be by your side. And yes, I want to stay with you. Of course I do.” 

“For how long?” Astarion asked quietly, after a pause. 

“...What?” 

“How long will you stay by my side? You have another... 100 years, 150 at best? I can’t offer any solutions to that as a spawn.” 

She blinked, realisation dawning in her eyes.

“...Astarion Ancunin, did you just say you want to spend the rest of eternity with me?” 

“Oh don’t you bloody dare turn this into a joke,” he bristled. “Just for once.”

“Not a joke, but…” She paused and gave her head a brisk shake, as if to snap herself out of a daze. “Just so we’re absolutely clear, what are you saying?”

“Isn’t it obvious..?” The grin that had crept habitually onto Astarion’s face felt like a suffocating mask. She only stared back into his eyes, unblinking, waiting for him to continue. “I could turn you. Grant you an eternity.” ‘With me’, he wanted to add, but the look in her eyes made the words die on his tongue.

None of this was going the way Astarion had expected. Not that he had planned any of this… Still, he’d made certain assumptions. He’d anticipated the conversation and day would flow somewhere along the following lines: re-affirm his plans for Cazador. Exchange words of undying love and devotion. Maybe, maybe make love to her again, later, in celebration. Instead everything was slipping like fine sand through his fingers. Words simply wouldn’t come out of his mouth. Everything he thought he might say suddenly felt pathetic.

“Turn me? To become one of your spawn?” Astarion opened his mouth to speak, but she talked over him. “Two centuries as something you say is less than a slave, a puppet, and you would so easily offer the same fate to me..?”

“First of all,” he sputtered, “I don’t know why you immediately assumed there would be others. Secondly,” he continued, slowing down, “there is another way, or so I’ve read. You wouldn’t be a mere spawn, but a-” Astarion winced, cutting himself off. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head. This was rapidly spinning further and further out of his control. “I thought you trusted me?” he asked instead.

“It’s not about trust,” she said. “If you had the choice between a hundred years of absolute freedom or being enthralled to someone for eternity - doesn’t matter who - me, Gale, your long-lost grandmother, anyone! What would you choose?”

“I would never compel you,” said Astarion, his voice tinged with a hint of pleading.

“That’s not the point,” she said, looking away, running her hand through and tugging at her hair. “Let’s just head back. We still need to set up before it gets dark, and I promised Karlach we would visit that bloody circus…”

Something inside Astarion shattered and spilled, ice-cold, over his heart as she got up and walked away. 

Not even an hour had passed since some of the happiest moments he’s had in centuries.

They walked back in silence. 

Eventually they came upon an outpost of Flaming Fists and steel watchers, who had appeared on the road they had taken into the city. They were apprehending everyone trying to pass through, whether they were leaving or entering. 

“Let’s try a side street,” offered Astarion. 

They found and made their way through a narrow alleyway. It was empty. Suspiciously empty, in fact - no children running through, no one out for a quick smoke, no drunks pissing on the walls.

Sure enough, once they were halfway through, three goons intercepted their way, stepping out of a doorway. Two humans and an enormous half-orc wide enough to block out most of the passage. 

“Alley toll.” One of the thugs flashed a malicious grin, eyeing Asmodea up and down. “Better pay up, doll.” Three more jeering hoodlums appeared behind them as he spoke, armed with crude but lethal weapons. 

“Attempting to detain a Council battlemage on duty? Bold but stupid,” she said gravely. “Hand over your profits and Lord Gortash won’t learn of your little enterprise. This is your only warning.” 

Trying to bluff and deceive her way through, per usual. Was there even a Council anymore? Did it employ mages? No matter. Whether due to the fact that she and Astarion had decided to wander the streets of the city in civilian clothes, without armour, or simply because the lust for money and violence had gotten the better of the would-be muggers, they paid her attempt no heed. 

The leader laughed.

“Or, how about we have some fun with you, and your Lord Gortash can come and collect your body from the river once we’re done with it?”

Astarion’s blood boiled.

He reached for his daggers, thoughts racing. Why in the hells had they come here barely armed..? They were surrounded, but perhaps if she blasted the three in front of them they might run through..? But they were probably too close for that… Could she misty step behind them and get away? His undead body would most likely survive whatever came, even with the tadpole. 

“Take the ones behind,” Asmodea snapped, and Astarion followed her lead, as he had grown used to, silently praying to no particular deity that she knew what she was doing. 

He ducked as one of the goons bellowed and swung a sword at him, dodging the blow to come up next to his attacker, burying a dagger between his ribs and another in his guts, for good measure. At least the alley was too narrow for all of the bandits to come in on them at once. Behind him, Asmodea spat some incantation that he wasn’t familiar with.

The next lout came at him, only to stop short, as Astarion scrounged up his meagre magical abilities to hurl a firebolt at his face, making the man yelp and grind to a halt in shock and pain. Astarion’s dagger followed through his eye socket shortly thereafter. 

The entire altercation with the two thugs took mere seconds. Another controlled shout from Asmodea followed behind him.

The last of the muggers on Astarion’s side backed away, looking at the scene unfolding behind Astarion with a horrified expression, before breaking into a run and disappearing. 

Astarion turned back to witness Asmodea standing with her arms crossed, looking unaffected, just as the half-orc who had been behind the group’s leader pulled his sword back out from the leader’s stomach, having impaled him from behind.

Asmodea barked another command as the leader collapsed, and the half-orc slammed the head of his other cohort, who hadn’t understood what was happening yet, against a wall, with a resounding crunch. 

A domination spell. 

Astarion felt nauseous. If his body had been capable of producing bile, it would have crept up at the back of his throat. For once, the smell of freshly spilled blood all around them was repulsive to him.

 “Kneel,” Asmodea commanded, calmly. The half-orc’s body immediately dropped to its knees, with a thud that spoke of damaged kneecaps.

“I’m running out of time. Do you need him?” She stepped over the body of the group’s dying ex-leader and walked around the half-orc, to stand behind him. 

Disgust and revulsion continued to claw at Astarion’s insides. 

“…What?”

The half-orc’s eyes were void of any emotion. A small mercy.

“Blood. Do you want his blood, before I spill it?” she said nonchalantly.

“…No,” he swallowed. Not like this…

He watched as she slit his throat, carefully standing behind him to avoid blood spraying over herself. Comprehension returned to the man’s eyes just as he made his last gurgling sounds, before stilling forever. 

“That was despicable,” Astarion hissed, finally breaking his gaze away from the body. “Compulsion? Really?!”

She gave him an incredulous look, momentarily speechless.

“This is what I do!” she exclaimed. “This is how I protect myself. You know this! What the fuck did you expect - that I would set off a fireball in an alley?! Or make one of them have a fit of giggles?!”

“You didn’t need to do anything, I could have handled all of them,” he countered.

“Oh, stand behind you like a meek little lamb?” She scoffed. “While neither of us are even wearing armour, and they’re on both sides? Don’t be ridiculous.” She crouched to wipe her dagger on the dead man’s clothes. “What does it matter, anyway,” she said, offhanded. “Dead is dead - who cares how they got there?” 

“It was just like Cazador all over again,” Astarion said, bitterly. “Watching my siblings torture each other, for his amusement, waiting for it to be my turn to be compelled.”

She stilled as she crouched, not looking up at him. 

“You fucking hypocrite,” she said, finally, rising. 

“What in the hells are you talking about?” he grimaced.

“Comparing me to Cazador, when you’re planning to take his very place.”

“How dare you?” Astarion felt the last of his composure leaving him. “I am nothing like Cazador, and I never will be,” he growled.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re already thinking of your own spawn. Maybe you would keep your word and not compel me, but you would be curious. All that power that you’ve been wishing was yours for 200 years...” She gesticulated, tilting her head. “First just one teensy little slave - someone who’s wronged you, maybe, someone who deserves to bear your ire. Then, perhaps someone convenient, in a place of power. Someone like what you would have been, had Cazador not botched your death so bad that it became public. Then another. And another. And what will you do with them once you have them? Take them for midnight picnics and host slumber parties?” 

She spat on the ground. 

“I’m going back to camp.”

She stormed off, fuming, exiting the alleyway and mixing into the crowd. Astarion followed at a distance, discreetly wiping the blood that had landed on his hands on the shirt of a random passerby that stumbled out in front of him. He gritted his teeth, watching her.

It had taken every last bit of his self-control to not snap back at her during her little tirade. 

He wanted to stalk off in the opposite direction, but frankly all his things were at the campsite, and he still needed the group’s help, both with Cazador and the tadpole. And he couldn’t discount something else happening to her on the way back. 

No, none of this was what he thought would end up happening today. Was this the end..?

It didn’t matter, he thought. Let her be stubborn. Let her accuse him of gods know what. He would do what he had set out to do. Hells, even if she changed her mind later - it would be too late. Let her live out her “hundred years of freedom” in regret.

And how fucking dare she?! Insinuating that he was or could ever be anything like Cazador. After all he had given her. His trust. His love. He didn’t have anything else. Not as a spawn, anyway.

But perhaps she would change her mind, after she gave his proposal more thought..? He could talk her into it, couldn’t he? He’s talked so many people into doing exactly what he wanted them to do…

There was no point in anything otherwise. It was all for her. All he wanted for himself was revenge. Freedom. Safety. But all the power in the world was meaningless if he couldn’t share it with her.

Astarion winced at the thought, hating that it even crossed his mind. If only he could claw it out of his brain and smash it against the cobbles beneath his feet. How much simpler life would be.

He would not grovel. He would not apologise. He would not change his mind. And he would rather die, again, than be caught running after her like a dog. 

Astarion cursed, slipped into the shadows and turned invisible, breaking into a sprint. He wouldn’t be able to replicate the trick for a while now, if the need arose, but he couldn’t care less. 

He raced up sets of stairs, speeding through a terrace, dodging the patrons of whatever establishment it was he was going through, and leaped, unseen, onto the next building’s, until he was ahead of her, descending back onto the ground and losing his invisibility around the corner from the main street, stepping out just in front of her. 

He caught a glimpse of her scowling and furiously blinking away tears just before she crashed into his chest with a light gasp, as he wrapped his arms around her. She was stiff and rigid, but at least she didn’t try to push him away. Still, a part of him was screaming that it was already too late.

“I don’t want you to have to commit those atrocities when you’re with me,” Astarion murmured into her hair, holding her close.

“You’d rather commit them yourself?” she retorted, her voice weak.

“I don’t want to,” he said quietly, as she seemed to become more malleable, and sank into his embrace, slowly wrapping her own arms around his back. “But I will if I have to. For you.”

“That makes two of us, I guess,” she managed, sounding choked up. 

Astarion took a deep breath, relieved. Mine… Still mine… He thought to himself, touching his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek. Someone in the street heckled them, yelling something about getting a room.

“I already don’t have much to offer, beyond all my burdens,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes glistening. She tried to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “I want to do what I can, for you. For us. What good am I if I can’t even keep you safe?”

He pressed his lips against her forehead as she hugged him tighter. He had no idea whether he had convinced her of anything, or if she simply didn’t have the will to argue anymore, but for now it didn’t matter.

“I will love you no matter what,” she breathed.

Another jeer followed from the crowd, and someone cursed at them to get out of the way.

“A legion of wolves sounds tempting right about now,” she added, as he smiled.

“Do you still want to get Karlach and go to that circus?” he asked.

“Fuck the circus,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But I guess we should.”

They made their way back to the camp, fingers interlocked again. The silence that stretched once more almost felt comfortable this time.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!

This is the last in-game part of the series for now (aside from some smut - see below). If you want to continue reading about my Tav and Astarion, go ahead and check out Bloodbang Chronicles which takes place 5 years after the end of the game.

Series master list

Next in in-game series - A night at the inn (branches off into smut)

AO3

~~~~~

Tag list:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

@spunky-89 @acourtofpenandpaper @yoonshope @lariatbunny @whiskeyskin

@asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird @brabblesblog @littlejuicebox

@icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna @mj-bites @bardic-inspo

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

cw: Yandere Themes, Possessive Behavior, Gaslighting / Allusions to Gaslighting, Violence / Violent Imagery, Non-Con / Attempted Non-Con, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Themes Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Gender-Neutral Reader. Read at your own discretion! 18+ Only!

author's note: This is for the second half of anon's request! I had fun playing around with this one, too. I really enjoy writing for Overhaul! This was a prompt from "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" and can be found here . REQUESTS ARE OPEN — READ TAGS. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

PROMPT: Lily (Purity): "I shouldn’t taint you like this. Not when you’re so pure.”

word count: Approximately 1.4k.

You’re terrified.

The bed doesn’t offer an ounce of solace whenever you fall, whenever the back of your knees thump against its edge and it sends you catapulting throughout space and time. You feel heavy and light at the same time, lead in your mouth whenever you try to breathe, the smell of metal hearty and deafening. You bounce softly whenever the mattress catches you, but your body quakes so much that you feel like you keep going and going, and your hands are working a mile a minute to slam behind your frame to drag you back back back back back. Far away, you’re trying to leave this realm, leave the edge of the bed, trying to nestle into the bed frame, to find a way to meld into the wall and never return. But even if you could, there’s that voice whispering in the shell of your ear, reminding you that it’s futile, useless, and you’re clueless, and that it wouldn’t matter anyway because—

Kai steps closer. He stalks like a predator, staring down your frame, visage cloudy and unreadable. You’re never able to see what he’s thinking, the windows to his soul closed with midnight curtains, but there’s something flashing above his face like a halo that produces chills down your arms. He’s going to hurt you, there’s no way he isn’t, but you don’t know how, don’t want to know how. And whenever his knees start to sink on the bed so that he can begin to ascend the trek to your shuddering frame, everything around you begins to home in. Breathing becomes difficult, maybe it was never even a thing, and you’re finding that the world truly is a drain, water in a bowl hurling and vomiting, loose stones in a stomach. You get your fill, and your head hits the wall with a broad thud.

Being here is the worst thing you’ll ever experience, watching Kai draw closer and closer and closer is anything but the cherry on top. More is to come, and that’s what feels like spikes, chains whipping in the wind, the braying of a captured horse, everything knives down your flesh, flaying you alive. Your eyes are frantic whenever you glance around, whenever you try to think about yourself as not yourself, you try to figure out what would help you ground the fluttering nerves, what could let you slink away into the underbrush so that you don’t have to think about whenever Kai pauses in front of your frame and stretches a hand out. Pads of fingers are gossamer spider webs stringing through the trees, breaking in odd splinters and tickling your thigh.

“Why did you back away from me?”

He knows why. He’s tormenting you. He’s trying to find ways to gaslight your silly brain into thinking you’re the one that hurt him, that you’re the one doing something wrong, that you’re the one being a bad little child. A part of you begs to tell the truth, to watch that poised and clear expression melt off of his face into something disgusting and monstrous so that you can sneer and hate him more. You want to fight him, want to tear your head into two slices so that your teeth can shoot out of your mouth, elongate into blades so you can bite down into his temples and never let go. Thick saliva starts to puddle in your mouth whenever you think about how his warm blood would taste undulating across your tongue. Your nails clench into the bedsheets.

You’re too much of a fucking pussy to fight back though.

“I… don’t know.”

Kai’s pretty eyes narrow.

“Can’t trust you to do anything on your own then. Especially whenever you don’t even think about why you’re doing it.”

The hand on your thigh suddenly becomes an iron, instantly hot and searing your flesh, leaving a tattoo of his claim behind whenever it inches up to the juxtaposition of hip and thigh. Those teeth in your mouth grow, harder, and you feel it coming on, feel that you could really kill him if you wanted to. You could sink your fingers deep into his eyes before you pull them out like skewers, before you stick those squishy things into your mouth to taste their creamy middles. You could cough on him, could watch all of those hives appearing on his hand, his arm, his shoulder, his neck, his face grow in frequency, could throw darts onto them to pop him like a carnival balloon.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Frustration settles deep within your belly, along with the weighty sensation of acceptance. Kai seems pleased with your answer, maybe, because his fingers tap tap tap your hip before he’s on you. He’s a blur, you’re a falling leaf, and his hands are pressing down onto your collar bones so that he can shove you flat onto your back. The bed is hard now, no cushioning, and Kai’s hot, and you’re thawing, and his mouth hurts whenever he ensnares you. He’s never known how to kiss. It’s awkward, clunky. He sucks in both lips, strangely melds his mouth around them, and then he tries to find ways to flick at the flakes of pores and teeth with that juvenile tongue. He drools all over you, gross and sticky, and you can’t understand how he handles that filthy mess. He never turns his head the right way either, always too straight or too tilted, and his jaw doesn’t work correctly. It’s too mechanical, not a flow, and you just feel like you’re fulfilling an obligation whenever he kisses you.

Kai’s moaning into you, and then he rolls his hips in between the crux of your legs. He’s stony, and your eyes instantly wrench to the right, closed so tightly that it feels like you’ve pulled every single muscle in your fragile body. He’s writhing on top of you like a virgin, and there’s a part of you that feels victorious among the wreckage whenever you stew over how bad at sex he probably is, how clumsy and stupid he is, but it doesn’t make the tears spearing your eyes any less salty. They’re on fire, white flames that lick the dents in the fruits of your face, and so many of them escape, dropping onto the sheets, rivulets of watery paint, and the choked sob you breathe into Kai breaks his fantasies.

His eyes flit open with yours, only whiskers from yours, and he looks ugly and foul from this angle. It takes a beat for Kai to lean his body away from you so that he can scrutinize you. He stares and stares, and he keeps staring, and then he seems to tremble so sweetly and he almost makes a childish giggle. His shoulders pinch in together whenever he huskily whispers,

“I shouldn’t taint you like this. Not when you’re so pure.”

Nothing. Those are nothing words. But Kai stops, he keeps walking himself backwards, those honeycombs in his eyes are magnifying glasses into an insanity that makes you sick.

“Having sex with you whenever you’re crying wouldn’t do me any good. It wouldn’t make you stay perfect for me.”

Something is beginning to click like rockets in your head.

“If you’re crying and fighting me all of the time, I’m just going to get angry. And then I might accidentally hurt you.”

There are demons hissing into your ears, nasty nasty nasty thoughts that start to make your toes curl. It’s settling in your bones, your organs, and your eyes are widening with more and more and more fresh tears. They’re like thunderstorms down your face, and you’re soggy and gleaming with happiness. He’s so fucking ridiculous and dumb. You’re going to destroy him and manipulate the fuck out of him. You hate him so fucking much. He’s gullible in the strangest of ways and you’ve hooked your line in, and you’re going to exploit his ocean until there’s nothing left.

So you cry harder.

Kai releases more of those airy bubbles, not even chuckles, and his eyes wrinkle at the ends like stuffing paper.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready. I’ll wait until I can’t take it, so don’t make me impatient. I want what we have to be special.”

The tears trickle into your tight mouth, juicy nectar, that stretching grin in your mind tingles, and nothing has ever tasted so sweet.

“Me too.”

[snackugaki]

.... i have been so normal about wanting to draw tactical!Venus and tactical!Jennika.

hey. HEY. y’all need to go check out @donathan ‘s artwork, and if you are the proper age, go throw some money into their patreon for some... some real, real good art. 👀👀👀 ...but do not if you are a minor, that shit ain’t for you.

some IDW TMNT comic spoilers... and.... I guess... Next Mutation ssspoilers? I know some of you kids haven’t turtled up and watched my beloved childhood iteration yet.

alright, so, y’know, completely normal expenditure of my energy and skillset, amirite? big big thanks to @/donathan for allowing me to play around in their AU’s aesthetic because I have severe, terminal VenusAndJennikaDeserveEverythingoccocal SoIWillManifestItMyselfitis.

and tbh, all y’all’s fics have been, mwah, chef’s kiss. but SOME of you put LORE. delicious, tasty, appetite-inducing lore.

and i am nothing but the littlest hoebag for lore.

okay so, quick rundown for those who both A) are immune to spoilers B) also do not know Venus or Jennika’s origins-- bulletpoint time~!

So Venus de Milo, the “girl turtle”, the “fifth turtle” (not counting April’s extremely brief stint as a white-bandana’d turtle in the Archie comics run) was introduced in 1997′s Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation

An episode of “The Toys That Made Us” touched upon Venus’ creation so idk it’ll cover what I won’t deign to acknowledge.

her backtory is interesting (just her show was a trashfire /affectionate)

Master Splinter’s frolicking around in the dreamscape where all the cool enlightened old people hang out away from teenagers, right?

but oh no! dragon lord, a bad dude with a widow’s peak to rival Vegeta Dragonball’s widow’s peak; is there too! stomping around, ruining shit!

Splinter’s dreamscape buddy Chung I warns Splinter to stay out of the dreamscape ‘cuz Dragon Lord’s around

And like in true old people fashion, just ignores his friend’s admonition and tries to investigate himself

bad choice, womp womp

Splinter gets trussed up and rendered “stuck” in the dreamscape

cue the catalyst for Venus to make the 10+ flight from China to the U.S

don’t worry about what the boys were doing, just literal surfing in sewer grey water, breaking their little turtle skulls on cinderblocks, and picking fights in warehouses with Foot clan goons

tl;dr Venus still has Sixth Ranger mode on, so naturally she whoops all of their asses in the dark, ties them up (like how some of y’all enjoy writing Leo does huhu nudgenudge winkwink)

venusistheoriginalshibarienthusiastandteadrinkerfightme

and then, y’know, it’s still the 90s and children’s television so blah blah the usual “oH My gOd a GiRL tURTle???/?? AWoooOOogaaa ga ga ga” 

it’s.... I mean, i’m 38 so it no longer strikes me as bad as just really fucking embarrassing... for them. to be written saying. fuck, at least they didn’t make her bandana color pink.

so fast forward to Venus teaching them to dreamwalk so they can go rescue Splinter from Dragon Lord’s clutches in the dreamscape.

unfortunately, Dragon Lord offscreen murders Chung I so Venus is narratively anchorless post-rescue, so she’s invited to stay with them. thus ensues wacky hijinks with their new pal, Venus Boom Boom de Milo.

I glossed over the urge to write a cumulative review of Next Mutation. Just, take my word as the target demographic of the show during the last gasps of 90s Turtlemania that TNM was a trashfire overall but... y’know... if you ever needed a palette cleanser after some grimdark or angsty TMNT content, give TNM a whirl. The slapstick was intentional and The Point in the show. Venus’ circumstances for coming was as serious as it would get.

... Also, yes, they made them not related in TNM, preteen snackugaki didn’t clock why because I watched a lot of wuxia as a kid so brotherhood is a term beyond blood ties to me (and if I’m being honest, martial brotherhood is fkkn metal) and later I heard tell that it was to lure more girls into the franchise with both a girl turtle and romance options. which idk whatevs man. 

I also have to clear that, actually no, Donatello and Venus did not fight EVERY episode. Donatello, despite sprinkling a little too much barely disguised snobbery, did defer to Venus’ expertise in “the supernatural” when the situation called for it, and Venus would commend Donnie on his scientific ingenuity. They even teamed up skillsets to create surveillance drones! She essentially casted Calm Emotions on him while he tried to hack the controls of the Astro Megaship back for the In Space Rangers. They breached the divide between STEM and Humanities! They only had one “real fight" near the end of the season-- because Donnie was playing his containment breach elevator mid trash copyright strike immune proto-EDM too loud while she was trying to meditate. and that’s just being bad roommates tbh.

...christ I know it’s gonna come up too, but also NO, there was not constant advances made toward Venus during the show. At most was Mikey pulling his ol’ “I work out every day~!” schtick for like 2 episodes of the 5 spent to introduce Venus. And then after? A shipper’s desert, you’d have to dig and peer behind like 8 curtains for any viable fodder. 

...OKAY NOW FOR JENNIKA’S ORIGINS: Jennika is an IDW character specifically so, naturally why she isn’t in (or would’ve been, AHEM) a lot of iterations yet (or at all, COUGH) (but to continue in honesty there’s a lot of legal tape to cut through since Jennika is IDW’s while TMNT overall is Nick’s) Introduced as a Foot Assassin, her place in the Foot Clan shifts when Splinter takes over from Shredder (Saki), eventually she forms actual bonds with both the turtles and Splinter to where it’s implied she also saw him as an important figure to her if not an outright surrogate father figure. And because TMNT is mess and drama the other 50% of the time, Karai takes over the Foot from Splinter and shenanigans compounded by Karai’s then-current machinations for the Foot-- results in Jennika getting shanked in the stomach by Karai during a clandestine meeting to resolve clan rivalry. She’s losing blood fast, Donnie works to save her and it’s Leo who volunteers for blood transfusion to keep her stable mid-transit. 

SURPRISE!

Leo’s blood mutates Jennika into a mutant turtle. And then Casey ghosts/dumps her. My poor daughter. She has a real rough time of it before fully integrating with the boys. Raph falls in with Old Hob, gets hoodwinked, and now they live in Mutant Town. Jennika slowly finds herself again, as a mutant turtle, a Splinter clan ninja, a girlfriend, a guitarist in a band she started, a sister in a found family, and a constable to a very little town.

okay! we’re all marginally informed about my two wonderfull daughters, Venus and Jennika~!

so if I can indulge further, I’m going to use my cognizance and make it everyone’s problem because I have beem quietly foaming with ideas for bg lore for tactical!J&V, more bullet points!

ok so, donathan mentioned a bit about their tac! Leo and Donnie being the snipers, Mikey and Raph spotting for them while also being demolitions and heavy ordinance specialists respectively

I would think, then for Vee and Jen, they’d be classified as close quarters combat specialists, complicated extraction? compromised area? call them to clean up and clear out~

give or take “magic” being a thing used in donathan’s AU, or anyone’s AU of this AU, Vee would probably be a close combat specialist along with Jen.

Vee, I feel, would, barring a ...”tactical fan”, (even though in TNM it was just her fists and her little wizard components but her toy came with a fan so.) probably use batons, Jen in lieu of her tekagi-shuko would... most likely use tactical karambit. not that large of a leap really.

for my personal lulz, Vee and Jen are... accurate, height-wise. Raph gets to be the biggest brother since alligator snapping turtles are, in fact, the largest motherfucking freshwater turtles on the north american continent. no getting around it.

my Vee in all Rise AUs is a softshell since the messy hanzi used to write her first given name, Mei Pieh Chi (美鱉气) has the hanzi that’s most commonly translated as softshell turtle (鱉). eh ‘di wow talaga

snacku what do you mean ‘accurate’???? tl;dr female turtles are usually the larger ones in most species.

and listen, I love and I mean LOVE, how some of y’all have written the tac!boys, mwah; but god I’m a professional turtle bully. I need to see them get dunked on. for nutritional value. and if it comes to it, I will provide that food for myself. brb laughing at eventually drawing Venus just offhandedly tossing Donnie into the air to skeet shoot his ass for fun brings me the greatest joy.

they absolutely dote on Mikey, as is the natural order of things. 

and even tho I stated TNM Donnie and Venus got along in the show, and depending on the existence of magic in this AU; I just really love dichotomous rivalries (in as much “science” and “magic” exist as a dichotomy, much less as “diametrically oppose” fields-- just, opposites man. i’m a simple girl with simple trope needs)

Vee’s arms (and legs) are absolutely covered in burns, scars, and missing flesh divots, just as close to swiss cheese limbs as you can be

Jen and Donnie debate tracks that go into their joint “On Our Way To Commit Murder” playlist

if Vee’s tactical look seem very familiar, and you’re wondering if-- yes, you’re correct. and you can “call her ms. de milo if ya nasty”

Vee was actually pretty calm and rational in TNM... but for this AU, she can be a little unhinged, as a well-deserved treat. (and ‘cuz that specific anime unhinged facial expression is fun as fuck to draw, which is my treat)

[bettyfrommars]

Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 4: Never Say Never

18+ONLY, MDNI, eventual smut, mention of blood and violence, a knife wound, mention of wounds, Jason being a typical prick, mention of assault, Steve gets hurt, misogynistic language, some angst, hurt and comfort. Reader goes by the nickname Bird. Eddie is in his late 20's and Reader is 21.

word count: 4.3k

masterlist playlist

Summary: You learn everything you need to know about both Jason and Troy while getting a taste of what Chrissy has had to deal with. Eddie tries to push you away but fails miserably. Robin and Steve are in a dire situation, and you turn to one of the only people you trust. A new opportunity presents itself and you decide to take the leap.

A/N: It's been so fun to put all of these characters into the setting of this beloved film. For those of you who are familiar with Dirty Dancing, I hope you enjoy a few of the scenes in this that were taken directly from it.

The next day, the three of you made your way to another spot on the lake in a rented boat for a picnic.  Under the shade of a tree while your dad napped and Kim read a romance novel, you tried to draw Eddie. The curve of his mouth, the way his bangs skirted his eyebrows, the blunt nature of his nose.  When you got home, you practiced in the attic for an hour, thought about throwing your cello off the balcony just to watch it splinter to pieces, and then you found yourself staring out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Eddie.  

After dinner, you were the last one to leave the table, and the waiter Jason nudged your shoulder.

“Your dad seems really cool,” he gave a toothy, golden boy smile. “He signed a copy of one of his books for my mom.”  

“He’s alright, I think I’ll keep him,” you said without returning the smile.  Kim stopped in the archway to the foyer to turn and check if you were following, but you waved her off.  Getting to know Jason was not high on your priority list, but you remembered Eddie flicking his cigarette at him that first day you arrived, and your curiosity was piqued.

Jason bent at the waist to stack some plates together, giving you a wink over his shoulder.  “Listen, I know you’re kinda seeing Troy and all, but if you ever want to hang out we can—”

“I’m not seeing Troy,” you hissed, making sure the last few tables full of people couldn’t hear you. You were about to say he was “just a friend” but he wasn’t even that.  “I barely know him.”

“Well, that’s not what he says,” Jason cocked his head, placing the used silverware on the tray as he moved around the table.  “But anyway, if  you ever want to have some fun, get away from this place or whatever, I could show you some stuff,” he lifted his eyebrows a few times suggestively.  “Wait, you’re over 18, right?”

You followed him, ignoring his offer.  “What did Troy tell you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he chuckled, as if it were funny. “Hey, I saw you talking to Chrissy the other day and, friendly advice? I’d keep your distance from that whole group if I were you.”

You held up the flower vase so he could pull the tablecloth off.  “How do you know Chrissy?”

Jason cleared his throat, glancing at the people eating across the way.  “I guess you could say Chrissy and I had some fun last summer.”

“She was your girlfriend?”

“She wishes,” he scoffed.  “God created girls like Chrissy for one reason and one reason only.”

“Oh? And what reason is that?” You stopped helping him and stepped back.

“C’mon Bird, I know you’re from the suburbs, but you’re not that naive,” he moved the bin of dirty dishes to an empty chair. 

He stepped closer and leaned in, whispering. “Girls like Chrissy, with serious daddy issues, they’re a great fuck, but no one wants to marry them. Same reason your boyfriend Troy had a turn with her.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You said through gritted teeth, an internal rage building as you watched his mouth, picking up a piece of silverware as you went. 

“She hides it well at work, but Chrissy’s one of those satanic metalhead freaks you’d never want to be seen in public with.  Not if  you had any self respect anyway.”

He continued, and you followed him over to the alcove by the kitchen, out of view from the other customers.  “Some people matter and some people don’t, that’s all I’m saying. If she thought Troy would ever get serious with a girl like her, that’s her fault, not his.”

“Is that why I saw them arguing the other day? She wanted to be with him but he ended it?”

You were pushing the boundaries of gossip, but could tell Jason enjoyed the attention.

“I doubt it, those two were never serious,” he moved back for another waiter to pass by.  “Chrissy keeps threatening to tell Joyce that Troy forced himself on her the last time they were together, but we all know that’s a lie.  She was practically begging for it.  Plus, it’s her word against his, and everyone knows she’s a whore.”

“I see.”

Jason leaned in so close his lips were almost grazing your ear.  “If you want to come by later, my cabin number is—”

The fork you had in your hand jabbed between his legs, points finding their soft target with ease.  Jason let out a high-pitched curse that made a few heads turn, but he was helpless not to back up as you moved forward, forcing him further down the hallway, out of sight.  

“Whattt the fuck, shit, fuck you, bitch, what the shit—”

When you pushed the utensil in further, he whimpered a gasping plea to stop, but your aim made him too vulnerable to move. 

You leaned in so that your body was close to his in the darkness of the corner, close enough to smell the cheap cologne he wore.  “Do you have any idea how powerful the lawyers are that work for my dad? Try anything with me or Chrissy, and you’ll be sorry you ever met me.”

You stepped back and he coughed, bending over to cover his crotch with both hands, trying to catch his breath.  

“You’re a fucking cunt,” he spat.

You charged forward again, forcing him to stumble back, putting his hands up as a form of surrender.  

You winked, and threw the fork at him on your way out, letting it clatter to the ground.  

—-------

The adrenaline was still pumping when you were halfway back to your cabin on foot and spotted Eddie.  He was cutting across the grass from the sidewalk, heading away from you.

“Eddie!”

But he didn’t falter, as if he couldn’t hear you, but that was impossible.  Unless he had headphones on? Nope, you didn’t see any.  

He picked up his pace.  

Instinct told you maybe he didn’t want to be bothered, or he was in a hurry somewhere, but your buzzing brain overrode all of the logic.

“Hey, do you have a second?” You finally caught up to him on the lawn under the trees where the outside movie was usually playing.

He stopped abruptly and dropped his shoulders, taking a breath before he turned, albeit reluctantly, to look at you.  His expression was weary, if not wholly nonplussed.

“What’s up?” His tone was cold as he wet his lips and braced his hands at his hips.  His toolbelt and his staff shirt were still on, as if he were on the clock so late in the evening.  “I’ve got a…thing to get to.  But if you need something, you just gotta ask up at the front desk. Or dial 0 on the phone in your—-””

“A thing at the Hideout?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened at that.  You looked fucking adorable standing there with your hands balled into fists as if you were bout to punch him.  

He breathed out, looking everywhere but your face.  “Don’t you have some other vacation thing you should be doing right now? Like charades in the west lobby or salsa dancing on the veranda?”

You crossed your arms over your chest.  “I suppose anything would be better than this lame conversation.”

The retort made his brows jut up.  “Well, keep on walking, your highness,” he extended his arms in a flowing gesture.  “Don’t let a lowlife like me stop you.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

So, he turned and continued on his way, wood hammer handle slapping his thigh from its side holster.  But it only took a few steps for him to halt, cursing through gritted teeth when he realized he couldn’t walk away from you, it just wasn’t that easy.

When he spun around, you were standing in the same spot but with your back to him.  “Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

You pivoted on your heel, prepared to be cunty right back, but you couldn’t help but soften once your eyes met.  You could’ve made something up in that moment, or you could’ve feigned forgetfulness, but instead, you told him the truth.

“I just wanted to see you.” You swallowed hard and so did he.

Eddie stiffened; a grin teasing at the corner of his mouth.  He didn’t smile though, he couldn’t.  Such a gesture would betray everything he did not want to feel at that moment.  A pregnant silence lingered thick in the space between you while he worked his jaw, once again trying to avoid looking directly at your face. He wasn’t ready to have those types of feelings, especially for someone he could never have.  

“There is something I have to do first, but I’ll be at the Hideout later if you want…I mean, if you want to walk down there and have a beer…that’s where I’ll be.”

“I’d like that,” was all you should’ve said, but then you added.  “I like beer.”

—-----

Your heart was in your throat as you made your way back from the cabin in a fresh change of clothes.  You practiced the things you would say when you saw Eddie again, in case your brain to mouth connection betrayed you again.  

The path you were on led down beyond the tennis courts and the golf course, and then along a strip of parking near the employee cabins. The Hideout was not too far off, you noticed, but then there were bright headlights beaming at you, and you kept your head down, pumping your arms to the beat of your own thoughts.  

But then you heard a scream.

It was someone in distress, and it sounded like…Robin? 

Stuttering to a halt, you squinted looking into the headlights that were a good many yards away, not yet able to make out a person or even what type of car was there.  

“Hello?” You stepped from the sidewalk, inching closer, but your words were only met with the sound of a door slamming. “Are you okay? Who is there?”

Robin came toward you then; there was what looked like blood smeared on the front of her shirt.  

“Bird!” She seemed so relieved to see you, hurrying forward with tear-soaked cheeks. She was speaking in a tense whisper, checking around to see if there were others who might hear her. “Have you seen Eddie?”

You forgot how to speak as you took in the situation, mouth agape.  “Are you…hurt? What’s going on?”

“I’m–I’m fine, it’s Steve,” a sob caught in her throat.  “I need to find Eddie.  Can you help me?”

“Yeah of course,” you gushed, following her to the van to maybe see what the damage was.  

She opened the passenger door to the van and Steve would’ve fallen out if she hadn’t caught him.  He was slumped there like dead weight, his face a sheet of white.

You hurried to help hold him up and your hand at his hip slipped along something warm and viscous over his jeans in the dark.  His head lolled forward and he mumbled something incoherent, but it was good to know he was conscious.

From what you could see, one side of his face was swollen, his lip split open and bleeding.  The hand closest to you looked raw and angry like he’s been punching a brick wall, and there were cuts on his arm from where he’d tried to block the strikes.

“One of them had a switchblade,” Robin gushed.  “Motherfuckers, they stabbed him and I—-there were too many of them.  We didn’t know.  My ex, she had all of her friends there.  She lied and told them Steve hurt her.  He’d never even met her before and then—-”

“Robin, we need to get him to a hospital,” you propped Steve back up in the seat, ready to get behind the wheel if necessary. “He looks like he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“No hospitals!” They both said in unison, but Steve’s voice was more of a groan. “I can take care of him.  Help me get him back to my cabin?”

“But, Robin—” you were genuinely concerned for his welfare, but also could not force them to go.

“This isn’t the first time Steve’s been hurt, okay? They find out he’s been involved in any type of fight and he’ll be on his ass. Help me, please.”

With Steve’s arms hooked around each of your shoulders, you went step by step.  Steve barked in pain a few times as your free hand hugged the clothing to his wound.  You could tell his leg was hurt too, as he was having a hard time walking.  

Halfway to Robin's cabin, which was maybe a 100 yards up the sidewalk but felt like 10 miles, Jamie, Eddie’s new assistant came rushing down off of his nearby porch.

“What the fuck happened?” He moved to help you, to shift Steve’s weight onto him.

“Go get Eddie please? Tell him to hurry!”  

Jamie looked from you to her, calculating where he thought Eddie would be, and then took off at a jog.  

By the time you made it to the cabin, a handful of other employees were rushing in to help as well, following Robin’s instructions as she told them to put a clean sheet on her bed and boil some water.  Once he was safe on the bed, more people rushed in, and you sunk back in the crowd.

They said no hospitals, but you knew someone who could help.  

—------

You couldn’t remember running back to your cabin, it all happened so fast, your brain could barely keep up with your feet.  Not to mention that you hated running.  You paused at the door, hoping your dad wasn’t awake.  You couldn’t let him see the blood on your clothes, he’d overreact in the worst way, and then the cops would be involved.  Not to mention the fact that you’d lied earlier and said you were going to hang out with Troy.

Just in case, you took off  your stained sweater and tucked it under your arm, revealing a clean tank top underneath.  Thankfully, the house was dark and quiet, and you tip-toed in a rush to your aunt’s room.  

“Kim?” 

She was on her side with a pillow over her head.

You rushed up and sat on the bed, jostling her a bit until she pulled the pillow away and blinked at you.

“What the—what’s going on?” She sat up. “Is your dad okay?”

“No, he’s fine,” you whispered, tugging at her arm.  “But I need you to come with me.”

“You need me to come with you now?” she balked, swiping hair out of her face, scrambling for her eyeglasses to look at the numbers on the bedside clock.  “Bird, it’s almost midnight.”  

She kicked her legs off the bed with a groan, watching you dig through her closet.  You pulled out her leather, Swiss Army medical bag with all of her emergency travel supplies in it and slung it over your shoulder.

“I need your help,” you paused to make sure you were being quiet enough.  “Someone’s hurt.  I can’t explain right now, there’s no time. Please just trust me.”

She could see the fear and the emotion in your eyes, and didn’t ask any more questions as she went over to pull some clothes out of her drawers, removing her nightgown to get dressed as fast as she could.  

—------

You filled her in on what you knew as you both hurried along at a fast pace.  “Bird, a stab wound is serious.  We need to call the—”

“We can’t!” You barked it much more harshly than you’d intended.  “Please,” you softened.  “It would take another hour for an ambulance to get out here anyway. Plus, I don’t think he has insurance.”

There was a crowd of people mingling on the porch around Robin’s cabin, and Kim pushed through them.  The doorway itself was blocked by bodies, and once inside, the bed with Steve on it was at the center of the room.  The employee cabins were all small and quaint, with a kitchenette against the far wall, and a beaded curtain that led to a bathroom with a standing shower. Kim raised her voice to be heard over the ones still blocking her way.

“Everyone stand back, please? I'm a nurse.”

Eddie was almost as pale as Steve when you saw him at his friend’s side.  He was shirtless under his leather jacket, atop his black, belted jeans, like he’d left his cabin in a hurry. They’d removed Steve’s shirt, revealing an expanse of chest hair, cleaned him, and put a fresh towel over the wound.  The blood wasn’t gushing, but he was gritting his teeth in pain, and the puffiness on his face made him almost unrecognizable from one side. 

Kim looked from Robin to Eddie, rolling her sleeves up.  “I need a sink to wash my hands in.  Tell everyone else to leave, please?”

While Eddie forced all of the gawkers out, he made lingering eye contact with you, and you nodded to let him know everything would be alright.

Kim scooted a metal camp chair up by the bed and opened her medical bag, snapping her latex gloves on.  “Hi there Steven, do you remember me? I’m going to take a look at you, okay?”

He swallowed. “How could I forget you?” His voice was scratchy, and when he tried to smile, he blanched in pain again. “You should see the other guy.”

“I know that must hurt,” Kim pulled a vial of liquid from one of the many pockets in her bag. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.”

She was doing her best to soothe him, keeping him apprised of every move she made, keeping him comfortable.

Eddie shut the door, locking everyone else out, including Chrissy, and came to stand behind you, cupping his hands on your arms, his warm body pressing into your back.  The sensation made you dizzy.  Maybe he needed the comfort, or he thought you did, but either way—you were grateful.  

Kim looked up.  “Robin? Is that your name?”

Robin nodded, inching closer, her eyes puffy from crying. 

“You did a really good job of cleaning his wound.  Do you think you could stay and assist? He’s going to need stitches.”

Robin was quick to nod emphatically.  “You think he’s going to be okay?” A sob hitched in her throat. “He was protecting me.  If I’d never gone there…if I…then he wouldn’t…” You went over to put your arm around her as fresh tears fell and dripped down her chin.  

Kim caught Steve staring at her, dragging long blinks as the morphine took effect, his dry lips parted and pink with blood from his broken nose.  She didn’t like answering those types of questions when she knew so little about the internal damage, but she found herself brushing hair off his forehead in a way that was not normally in her bedside manner.  

“I have a good feeling he’ll live to make plenty more mistakes,” but then she quickly dropped her hand and went back to work.

“What can I do?” Eddie asked, stepping out from behind you, to the foot of the bed. 

Kim frowned as she inspected the two broken fingers on one of Steve’s hands.  “I’d like some coffee.  Black, two sugars,” she said without looking up.  “But the rest of you might as well go get some sleep.  This is going to take a while.”

—-------

Kim begged you to go home so as to not worry your father when he woke up to an empty house, being that the sun would probably be up before she was done.  You knew she was right, but you watched Eddie and Jamie go up the hill to the main house for a coffee run with longing reluctance.  He ended up grabbing an entire coffee maker from the kitchen and a pitcher of water to make sure Kim had everything she needed for the night.  

The next day, after pretending like nothing happened over brunch, and your dad went back to writing, you returned to Robin’s cabin with Kim to check on Steve.  

Before rounding the corner to the porch, you heard Eddie’s voice before you saw him.

“...Chris, there is no way we’ll be able to find a bass player this late in the game,” he huffed.

And then Chrissy spoke up.  “We can’t just bail on this gig, Ed.  This could be huge for us.  There has to be some—”

“Who?” His tone was annoyed.  Not so much at her, but at the situation. “Emily will be out of town and Sean has a gig with his own band. We are out of options.”

“We have two weeks to find someone,” she chimed, full of hope.

“Yeah. Barely two weeks.” He leaned back against the railing of the porch so he could see him from where you and Kim stood frozen.  “That’s not enough time.”

But then Kim stepped forward.  “Hello everyone. It’s me again. Nurse Ratched.”

They both turned to greet her with enthusiasm, and Eddie extended his hand to help her up the stairs, even though she didn’t need it.  

A smile quivered on his mouth when he locked eyes with you.  

Kim knocked first, and then you heard her ask how her patient was doing once Robin let her in.  

Chrissy and Eddie got quiet, possibly wondering how much you had heard.  He wore a black, ribbed tank top under his unbuttoned work shirt, and Chrissy was in her waitress uniform as if she’d stopped by on her way to the main house.  

“Everything good?” You broke the silence, feeling awkward. 

They both spoke at once, but then Chrissy gestured for Eddie to continue. “Everything is good, it’s great.  Your aunt, what she did for Steve last night, it was incredible,” he turned to snatch his smokes off of the table as he said it.  “I didn’t know there were still people in the world willing to help strangers like that.”

“She’s pretty terrific,” you swallowed, noting the looks that the two kept exchanging. “What about the two of you? I guess this means you are out a bass player for a while?”

Besides the obvious trauma to his face and stomach, fingers on Steve's hand were broken from how hard he’d fought back.  Even though Kim had been able to set them in splints, and they would eventually heal, it’d be a while before he could pick up a guitar again.  She couldn’t speculate on the nerve damage, but there was a chance the dexterity would never be the same.

Chrissy sat on the edge of the railing with her hands folded in her lap.  “Our band was invited to play at a show called Pedal to the Metal.  It’s a once in a lifetime chance to get our name out there,” she glanced up at Eddie but he was staring at the ground, working his jaw.  

“There’s always next year,” he deadpanned in a way that made you think he didn’t believe it.

“We won’t get invited again and you know it, Ed,” she tucked some hair behind her ear and avoided eye contact with you.  “The Dead Alive and Heaven’s Harlots will be there. I’ve been dying to meet them.”

“Who are The Dead A—-” you were about to ask but then Eddie interrupted.

“Fuck those bands and fuck that stupid festival,” he grumbled. “We don’t need them. When Steve recovers, we’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces.”

The wheels in your brain were spinning so fast, you wouldn’t be surprised if smoke came out of your ears.

You cleared your throat.  “Do you think maybe you could teach someone to play bass?”

Eddie barked a laugh out of his nose.  “In two weeks? Hilarious.”

“I mean,” you scrambled for the right words, hoping they wouldn’t laugh you off the porch. “W-what if they already know strings really well? Like maybe, the cello? Wouldn’t it be easier for them to learn?”

Chrissy shrugged, not sure where you were going with the story, but Eddie cocked his head at  you, eyes narrowing.  

“It’s possible,” Chrissy frowned down at her lap and then swept her gaze up to you. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Before you could answer, Eddie waved his hand in the air and leaned his shoulder against the cabin.  “Nope. No way,” he popped the “p” and shook his head, hair falling in his face.  “It wouldn’t work, we don’t have enough time.”

Chrissy got to her feet.  “C’mon Ed, someone like that could learn 5 songs in 2 weeks if they wanted to! But do we even know anyone like that?”

You swallowed hard, waited for both of them to stare at you, and then offered a nervous smile.  

-----

Thank you to everyone reading and enjoying this little world. You know I always love hearing what you think ❤️🚬

------

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00 @ahoyyharrington

[atearyamallari]

Bath, Bed, and Late Night Phone Calls

This is another entry for @tmnt-write-fight. Get attacked, @untitled-tmnt-blog! This was the prompt I had answered:

New dad Splinter is very unprepared but is trying the best he can.

Not a parent, but having worked closely with children, I can tell you that parenting is hard. Hope you all enjoy the story! (and if you're reading this, I recommend having tissues nearby)

Words: 3669

Rating: Gen

Tags: Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Bubble Bath, Sad Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Bittersweet.

Iteration: Rise of the TMNT

You can also check out the fic here on AO3!

Enjoy!

\\

Splinter looked at his sons as they cuddled on the couch together, watching one of his films. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best thing to show to children – violence toned down was still violence, after all – but he didn’t have any other movies for them. Besides, putting something on the TV was one of the only ways he could get all four of them to calm down and be quiet for longer than ten minutes. And the boys seemed to really enjoy this movie in particular; their jaws were slack, and their eyes twinkled with awe as they watched Lou Jitsu beat up a dozen bad guys on screen.

Little did they know that Lou Jitsu was standing nearby, and that he was going to pull the rug out from under them. He snatched up the remote with his tail and turned the TV off. “Alright, boys! It’s time for your bath!” he said.

The room grew to a near-deafening volume as all four of them started complaining at once. “But Papa, I don’t wanna take a bath!” Leo whined.

“No baths!” Mikey said.

“Yeah, we already had one,” Raph said. “We’re all clean.”

“No baths!”

“That was two days ago. You need to take another one today,” Splinter said.

“But we want to watch the movie!” Donnie said.

“No baths!”

Splinter’s sanity was slipping from him, like a balloon slipping from a child’s fingers and floating out of reach. “How about we take baths one at a time, and when you’re not being washed you can watch the movie?” he said, trying his best to refrain from yelling. “Does that sound good?”

Bargaining seemed to do the trick. “Yay! Movie time!” they yelled happily.

He turned the TV back on, and the projector hummed with life as it displayed their favorite movie once more. “Red, you will go first,” he said, setting the remote down.

“What? No fair!” he said. “Why do I have to go first?”

“Because I said so.” He grabbed his son by the wrist and tried to gently coax him off the couch.

“I don’t wanna take a bath!” Raph said. “I wanna stay here with my brothers!” He wormed his arm out of Splinter’s grasp, then retreated his head and limbs into his shell.

Normally, that level of stubbornness would have caused Splinter a headache, but thankfully, his son wasn’t smart enough to realize that hiding in his shell only made him easier to carry. Splinter picked him up off the couch and was immediately surprised by how heavy his Raph was. Five-year-olds were supposed to grow a lot, but it should have been illegal for him to grow this much. As he lugged Raphael away into the bathroom, he wondered how much longer he would be able to carry him before he grew too big.

Their bathroom was barely larger than a closet, but it was the only room in the sewer drainage junction that they had come to call home which had spigots to draw water from. A wooden barrel that had been sawed in half functioned as their bathtub, and Splinter had added shelves to the walls to hold soap and towels. As he gently set Raph down into the tub, he realized that his son was almost too big for it now. Another reason why it should have been illegal for him to grow as fast as he did.

Splinter connected a garden hose to a faucet in the walls and turned the valve handle. Water gushed out, brown and murky at first, but eventually it ran clear. Splinter aimed the hose into the bathtub and began filling it. Curious, little Raph peeked his head out from his shell, then his legs, then his arms. A smile slowly crept onto his face as he began to splash around.

“Are you having fun?” Splinter asked, amused.

“Yeah!” Raph said. He slammed his arms into the water, making giant splashes.

“Careful! You’re gonna get water everywhere,” Splinter said. He turned off the faucet, grabbed some liquid soap from one of the shelves and began pouring it into the bath. Mountains of bubbles grew in the tub, much to Raph’s delight.

“Look, Daddy!” Raph said, scooping bubbles with his hands and smearing them on top of his head. “I’m Lou Jitsu!”

Laughing, Splinter took off his red bandana, then scooped up some more bubbles and added them to his son’s head. “You look just like him!” he said.

He spent the next couple of minutes scrubbing him down with a sponge. Halfway through the bath, Raph had managed to splash all the water out of the tub, forcing Splinter to fill it up again. But before long, he had Raph wrapped up in a fuzzy red towel. “Daddy’s gonna get you all dried up,” he said.

Somewhere in another room, glass shattered. Splinter’s heart dropped as soon as he heard the sound. “Never mind. You’re old enough to do this yourself, right?” he said to Raph. Then he bolted out of the bathroom.

Leo and Mikey were standing in the middle of the TV room, looking down at the mess they had made. Between the two of them was a football, a lamp shade, and a pile of broken ceramic. “Did you two just break our brand-new lamp?” Splinter said, aghast.

The boys pointed their fingers at each other. “He did it!” they said simultaneously.

Like the rest of their furniture, the lamp had been salvaged from a dumpster, but it was one of the nicer appliances that Splinter had added to their home. “That’s it! Leonardo, Michelangelo, you’re both in trouble,” he yelled. “No more playing football in the lair.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Leo mumbled.

“S-sorry, P-papa” Mikey said, bursting into tears.

Seeing his son crying caused his chest to tighten with pity. Still, pity wasn’t going to clean up the mess. Splinter picked up the football and carefully plucked out the ceramic shards before placing it on the very top of the do-not-touch cabinet he had in the TV room. Then he carefully swept up the broken pieces before his sons could cut their toes on them. By the time he was done, Mikey had stopped crying but was still sulking where he stood.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Splinter said, picking him up. “But I need you to be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt. Now, let’s get you back on the couch.” He fluffed up the cushions with one hand before setting him down, then turned to Leo. “Come, Blue. It’s time for your bath now.”

“Okay,” Leo said in a whiny tone.

Taking his hand, Splinter led him to the bathroom. All the while, a nagging feeling ate away at him, telling him that something was wrong. It wasn’t until they had nearly left the TV room that he realized what it was. “Where’s Purple?” he asked Leo. He asked as calmly as possible, but his heart only pounded faster when he remembered that he hadn’t seen Donnie since he took Raph’s bath.

Leo silently pointed behind him. Splinter turned to find Donnie standing just a few feet away, dragging a bucket by the handle. “I’m right here, Papa,” he said.

Crisis averted. Splinter let out a giant sigh of relief. “Donatello, go watch the movie with your brother,” he said.

“Actually, I want to take a bath now,” Donnie said.

“But Daddy said that it’s my turn for bathtime,” Leo said.

“You boys can have a bath at the same time,” Splinter suggested. Thankfully, the two of them were small enough that they could both fit in the tub.

Leo took Donnie’s free hand and together they walked into the bathroom. Raph was standing where Splinter had left him, swaddled in the towel. It was obvious that he hadn’t done anything to dry himself off, however, since water was still dripping from his shell, and he was now shivering. Splinter helped Leo and Donnie into the bathtub, then finished drying Raph off while the bath filled with water. Eventually, he let Raph scamper back into the TV room and turned his attention back to Leo and Donnie.

Donnie was floating his bucket in the bathtub. Lately, he had picked up the habit of walking everywhere with it and often filled it with little trinkets he found around the house. “What do you have in your bucket, Purple?” Splinter asked as he gently took off his bandana.

Silently, Donnie reached into the bucket and pulled out a spoon, then let it drop into the water. Then he drew a second spoon from the bucket, and a third, dropping each of them into the bath. Although this probably wasn’t normal behavior for a child, this didn’t surprise Splinter at all. Donnie, for some reason, had an interest in shiny metal objects. What did surprise him, however, was the next few items that Donnie pulled out from his bucket. They were metal rods shaped like the letter C, and for some reason Splinter had the feeling that he had seen them somewhere before. It wasn’t until Donnie had dropped the fourth one into the bathtub that he realized that they were the handles of the kitchen drawers. “What –? How did you get the handles off?” he asked incredulously.

“With a screwdriver,” Donnie said, beaming.

If any of his other sons had done this, Splinter would have been concerned. But Donnie had always been a little too smart for his own good. Splinter tiredly dragged one of his hands over his face. Considering that his four-year-old son was able to remove the handles, it should be easy for him to place them back on. “What else do you have in the bucket?” he asked.

“A toaster!” he said, pulling one out.

“No no no no no!” Splinter said, catching the toaster before his son could toss it into the bath like the rest of his trinkets. He set the toaster on one of the shelves, away from the water, then took the bucket out of the bathtub. “Let’s play with this later, okay?”

Like with Raph, Splinter scrubbed Donnie and Leo down with a sponge. It took a little longer than normal because whenever Donnie was distracted, he took the opportunity to reach into the bathtub and pull out the spoons and drawer handles. In a few minutes, however, he had them clean and swaddled in their favorite purple and blue towels. Once they had both dried off, he led them both to the TV room. “Orange, it’s your turn,” he called.

Raph sat on the couch watching the movie, but Mikey wasn’t with him. “Red, where is your brother?” he asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve just been watching the movie.”

Splinter looked down at Donnie and Leo, as if they would have the answers, but they only shrugged in reply as well. This was just great. He should have known that it was getting too quiet around the lair. That’s what he got for teaching them basic ninja skills.

Leaving the rest of the boys in the TV room, Splinter walked around and called Mikey’s name. The longer time dragged on without a response, the more panic dug its claws into his chest. All the doors leading out of the sewers were child-proof, so there was no way Mikey could have left – but if he had managed to break through, then Splinter could only hope that his chubby toddler legs didn’t take him very far.

After calling his name for what felt like the hundredth time, Splinter finally heard a response. “Hi, Daddy!” came Mikey’s voice, bouncing across the walls of the atrium.

Splinter spun around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. Finally, his eyes rested on the sight of a little box turtle hanging from a pipe suspended ten feet off the ground. “Mikey!” he said, horrified. “Get down from there!”

“Okay!” Mikey said. He let go of the pipe.

“That’s not what I meant!” Splinter screamed. Adrenaline pumped through his body as his instincts took over. With a giant leap, he stretched out his hands and caught his son as he plummeted to the ground. He landed expertly, still holding onto Mikey.

“Yay! Do it again!” his son said.

“Nope! Not again!” Splinter said, nearly crying from sheer terror. “Bathtime only.”

Splinter gave Mikey his bath, and by the time he was done, exhaustion weighed down every bone in his body. He wasn’t the only one; little Mikey started nodding his head as Splinter dried him off and he seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. It was a little early in the evening – but it was never too early for bedtime. Splinter picked up his son and carried him to his bedroom. Mikey was sound asleep before his head hit his pillow. Chuckling softly, Splinter knelt over him and kissed the top of his head before returning to the TV room.

Raph, Donnie, and Leo were all sound asleep, cuddled close together on the couch. Splinter grabbed the remote and lowered the volume to the movie, which still droned on in the background. One by one, he picked up Raph, then Donnie, and carried them to their beds, before tucking them in and kissing them good night. As he brought Leo to his bed, however, he began to stir. “Papa,” Leo murmured sleepily as Splinter lay him gently down on his pillow. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

“No, it’s time for you to sleep,” Splinter said.

“Please?”

Leo’s sleepy little eyes were simply too adorable to resist. “Okay,” Splinter said, sitting on the edge of his son’s bed. He racked his mind for a bedtime story until at last he remembered an old fairy tale from his childhood.

“Once upon a time there was a young fisherman named Urashima Tarō,” he began. “He lived with his mother and father in a humble village on the coast of a small island, and he was a good son who ate all his vegetables and didn’t complain about bathtime. One day, when he was walking along the beach, he came across a group of children. As he drew closer, he saw that they were torturing a baby sea turtle who was stranded in the sand dunes. Feeling pity for the turtle, he drove the children away, then he carefully watched over it as it found its way to the surf and disappeared into the waves.”

“Those were some mean kids,” Leo mumbled.

“Yes, yes,” Splinter said. “Now don’t interrupt. Two days later, when he was fishing on his boat, a giant sea turtle swam up to him. It was no ordinary sea turtle, for it was the same one that he had rescued. And it could talk! The turtle thanked him for saving its life and offered to take him to Ryūgū-jō, the underwater palace of the Dragon God. Since Tarō was a human and could not breathe underwater, the turtle magically gave him gills, and since he was not a strong swimmer, the turtle let him ride on its shell until they came to a beautiful palace made of pearls at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Saving the turtle had made Tarō the hot-shot of the ocean. He got to meet all of the important people in Ryūgū-jō, like the emperor, and his princess daughter, Otohime. But as the days went by, he became homesick. He wanted to go back to the island to see his mother and father. Otohime was sad to see him go, but she gave him permission to return home and gave him a special box, a tamatebako, to keep him safe from harm. However, she gave him instructions to never open the box. Tarō took it with him and rode on the back of his sea turtle friend until he made it home.”

“When he came to his island home, he found that everything had changed. He couldn’t recognize any of the people there, and he couldn’t find his parents. Just when he thought he had traveled to the wrong island, some of the villagers told him that they knew where his mother and father were. They took him to a pair of graves at the edge of the village – his parent’s graves. Three hundred years had passed since he had disappeared at sea, and his parents were long gone. Distracted by the grief, Tarō opened the lid of the tamatebako. White smoke poured out, turning his hair silver and forming wrinkles in his skin. It was too late by the time that he realized that the box had held his old age.”

Leo’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was soft and even. Splinter gently cupped his son’s face in his hands, stroking the edge of his bright red stripes with his thumb, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. Then he quietly got up and walked out of his room.

Now that his sons were asleep, the lair was completely still, but despite the peace and quiet Splinter found himself unable to relax. Today marked the third anniversary of their collective mutation – the boys mutating into giant sentient turtles, himself mutating into an ugly, oversized rat. His fur stood on end as horrible memories wormed their way into his mind. The glow of bright green ooze. The acrid stench of chemical fires burning in a crumbling lab. The ache in his bones as he transformed. The horrible, churning feeling in his gut when he realized that Draxum intended to turn innocent baby turtles into weapons of war.

After three years, that gut-churning feeling never really went away. He felt when he and his sons were on the run, living in the streets. He felt it the one time someone had caught a glimpse of him and his boys and screeched in horror. Even when their lives weren’t in immediate danger, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was doing this parenting stuff all wrong. He had rescued the boys from a soldier’s life, only to deliver them to a life in the sewers.

He couldn’t do this anymore – not alone, anyway. It was time to ask for some help, or at least some parenting advice. Splinter tip-toed to his room, grabbed an oversized hoodie, and slipped it on. Then he lifted his mattress and snatched up the loose change that he had hidden underneath. He counted the quarters, adding them up until he had nearly thirteen dollars. Enough to make an international call.

Quietly, he tiptoed out of his room and into one of the sewer tunnels that led to a maintenance shaft. He turned the door handle and heaved the giant vault-like door open before slipping through and shutting it behind him. When he reached the top of the maintenance shaft, he lifted the manhole cover and crawled out onto the street. Pulling his hood over his head, he headed east.

Two blocks later, he reached a row of payphones on the side of the road. He lifted one of the phones from its hook and inserted quarters into the coin slot before dialing the number. Although it had been over thirteen years since he had talked to his grandfather, he still remembered the number to his landline.

Splinter nervously twist the phone cord in between his fingers as the phone rang in his ear. Would his grandfather be happy to hear his voice, or disappointed that it took over thirteen years to reach out to him again? Would his grandfather even remember him? Was his Japanese still good enough to carry a conversation? Part of him was tempted to save himself the shame and hang up so that he could get his money back. Clutching the phone tighter, he forced himself to stay on the line. This was for his sons, he reminded himself.

The line clicked as someone picked up the phone on the other end. “Jiji! It’s me, Yoshi,” Splinter said. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I need help –”

“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

“Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi,” he answered. His stomach twisted when he realized he didn’t recognize the voice on the other end.

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to bother you. I was just trying to call my grandpa, Hamato Sho.”

“Hamato Sho,” repeated the stranger on the other end. “I recognize that name. I think he was the previous occupant of the house I am living in now.”

If the stranger knew his grandfather, then he still had hope of reaching him. “Do you know where he lives now? Or what his new phone number is?”

The stranger paused. “Listen, I know this won’t be what you wanted to hear but… Hamato Sho passed away five years ago.”

A tear slipped down Splinter’s face. “Oh,” he choked out.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

His chest tightened as a sob threatened to escape his throat. “It’s okay,” he said. “Thank you for your time.” With shaky hands, he put the phone back up on the hook.

Splinter’s legs felt heavy the entire walk back to the sewers. Tears streaked down his face now as he allowed himself to cry. His jiji was long gone, and he never got the chance to properly say goodbye. He never even apologized for the way he had left things between them. There was no one left of his family now.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Splinter had four sons now – four rambunctious, troublemaking, sweet turtle sons. When he returned to the lair, it was still quiet and peaceful. In the morning, it would be loud and chaotic as they woke up. But for now, they were asleep in their rooms, perhaps having pleasant dreams about what the next day would bring. Splinter crawled into bed, still wondering if he was raising his sons right. But no matter what, he was going to try.

[sunshineboy-greer-collins]

heya! i thought about this literally right before falling asleep and then stayed up for like half an hour or so more bc i had to write all of these headcanons down lmao

so i hope you enjoy!

chronic pain!Darlin’ :

- who ignores their pain and takes on fights anyway

- who thinks they can just “tough it out” (bc of their parents)

- who thought it was normal to be in pain all the time until they met Sam who while healing once told them they shouldn’t have to deal with pain (meaning the sustained injuries) and they respond saying that they’re in pain all the time anyway so what does it really matter

- who is confused at the shock and horror on Sam’s face after they’ve said that

- who tries to hide how much pain they’re in

- who is unsuccessful hiding it from Sam

- who refuses to take pain meds to “see how long they can last” or bc “it’s not actually that bad” or bc “they haven’t done anything to earn it”

- who is made to stay in bed and rest by their mate

- who Sam draws baths for and carries them into the bathroom, gently placing them in the warm water which soothes their aches

- who Sam bought a bunch of stuff for after doing research when they had told him

- who gets clingier whenever they’re having flare ups

- who struggles accepting help for their pain

- who feels like they’re faking if they actually do something that’s supposed to help (like using mobility aids) and it actually does help

- who always has Sam to reassure them about any insecurities they might have

- who was nervous to tell him about it

- who is trying so many different hobbies that they can do while resting and does a lot of like crochet/embroidery/etc

- who has completely played through countless switch games and the like

- who regularly ignores their pain bc “it could be worse!”

- who regularly stays up later than they should doing research on things that could help & then ends up getting non of those things

- who struggles sleeping sometimes bc their pain is so bad

- who gets encouraged by Sam and assorted pack members that are aware to get the tools they need and that’ll help

-who eventually gets braces, splinters, compression gloves/sleeves/shirts, heating pads, more pillows and/or whatever else might be right to help them and actually uses it

- who finally has the help and support system they deserve

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hello hello my love <3 I thought maybe I could request something where reader has never really been comforted when crying throughout her life but one time Jake walks in on her crying and just comforts her. She doesn’t expect that and it’s all just a bunch of fluff! I love your writing so much thank you for putting your work out for people to enjoy <3

Xoxo

thank you for reading &lt;3

there's something rooted deeply in your body that tells you crying is something to feel shameful about.

in your mind, you know it's not true- there's nothing shameful in being able to let your emotions out. but when you've been left to cry alone, it can get warped and the divide between your head and what your body feels is a lot to bridge.

you didn't expect jake to return from flight training so early.

you're sobbing on the bed, eyes swollen and puffy as your tears soak your pillow.

jake stumbles through your home on edge till he finds you. "suga'," he coos, boots and flight suit pulled off in record time as he comes to lay beside you.

"jake," you gasp, turning away from him as he gets close to you. "sorry," you whisper and your southern boyfriend frowns.

"for what?" he tries to lift your chin, but you keep it tucked protectively to your chest.

"crying." your voice is clogged with tears, head pounding as you withhold some of them.

"ain't nothing to be sorry for." jake says, drawing your body back into his as you remain faced away from him. "if you need t'cry, you cry suga. i ain't stopping you."

"really?" jake feels his heart break for the little you that had to cry on your own. he feels the splinters in his heart at your insecurity about it.

"look at me," he implores, voice calm and steady. you turn slowly, building up the courage to look at him. when you do he gives you a little smile.

"you don't have to feel any shame for crying. it's okay to cry and have other people see you cry; i promise."

you give him a messy nod and jake presses kisses to your sticky cheeks, holding you till all the tears are dry and you're yawning on his chest.

[artsybun]

How long do you typically spend on each TMayNT drawing? Of the ones you've done so far, which one took the longest? Which one was the quickest?

OOOOOO! These are great questions, thanks so much for asking!

Hmmm, the length of each piece definitely depends on what I’m doing, but on average I would say most of these pieces take roughly 6-8 hours to finish? I enjoy posing a whole lot and bc of that I often use a lot of full bodies which takes me longer to finish. If it’s not a full body I can normally knock those out in 4 ish hours.

The one that took me the longest was honestly the first one! This bad boy right here.

It was the combined effort of multiple characters, multiple poses, and also not being extremely familiar with each shows style. I had to spend a lot of time during the sketching phase to try and emulate the styles as best I could and that took a loooong time. But I’m super happy with this piece! It’s one of my favs and was a great help in learning how each show tackled the characters designs as well as how other artists drew them too! I’ve gotten significantly more comfortable drawing each iteration of turtles now.

The one that took the shortest? Hmm, technically I think the Splinter one would classify as the shortest, however, it was Mother’s Day and I was so busy I called the piece early. I still plan on going back and finishing it. So with that in mind… I think it might be this one.

Which is funny considering it’s a full body + a prop, a mechanical one at that, but I was honestly in a mad dash trying to finish this piece cause I knew it was late. As the artist themself I’m very nit picky and in this piece it’s the line work where I can tell that I was rushing. I normally try to make my lines as smooth as possible for a finished piece but that takes a LOT of time and effort. So I used my sketching brush for the lineart to force my brain to shut off and get this one done. I’m not unhappy with it by any means! I really love the posing and had a lot of fun with it, but some of those lines, specially on the hover board, really annoy me now lol.

Thanks again for the ask!! Not to sound egocentric, but I really enjoy talking about my art and the trials and errors throughout it all.

I’ve learned a whole bunch doing this challenge. It’s been pushing me a lot and overall been super fun. Everyone has been so nice too!! Seeing the little comments from ppl always makes my day. I’m so very thankful for the creator putting it out there for me to participate in, and I’m thankful for everyone who decided to follow me along thru this challenge! 💞💞💞

[f4llingtoyou]

what am i missing? - min ho x reader (teaser)

Of all the mistakes that Min Ho regrets, he thinks you’re the worst.

wc: 0.5k an: this is a written prologue/teaser for a smau i'm planning!! no promises on when the smau will be ready HDJFDF but i hope you enjoy this in the mean time :)

Of all the mistakes that Min Ho regrets, he thinks you’re the worst.

Not that you did anything wrong. He hates to admit it, but really, you did everything right. And maybe he just got too comfortable drawing lines in the sand. 

He didn’t realize it would break your heart. You’d taken his rejection with grace, and he hadn’t realized anything was wrong until your messages were few and far between and you stopped showing up to all your favorite places for fear of running into him. 

You knew, after all. You knew he wasn’t the type for commitment, and your eyes would always linger on the red bruises peeking from beneath his collar. It hurt that you couldn’t have him, not in the way you wanted, while he spent his nights pressing his lips to other people’s skin in fleeting promises.

You knew, and he knew, and yet you’d somehow both ended up lost in the aftermath of it all. 

He thinks of that one night - the one where he had you tangled up in his arms and on his tongue until he woke up in the morning and you were gone without a trace.

You wanted more, and maybe he was ready for more, when he felt your fingertips bruising his ribs and your smile sliding against his lips, but it was lost in translation and he can’t blame you for running before you got hurt. You deserve more, more than he thinks he can offer, but it doesn’t stop him from missing you like you were ever his to miss in the first place.

He didn’t think he would ever see you again. But here he is, catching your eye across the dance floor.

It’s only seconds, but it feels like a lifetime as he watches your face fall and splinter at the seams. He remembers when you’d smile at the sight of him instead.

He swallows thickly. 

Your lips press into a line, heartbreak masquerading as a smile. He breaks the eye contact first. He’s a coward. Like always.

He can’t help himself from looking back, but you’re gone so fast he feels like he’s dreaming. (In his dreams, you never even look at him at all.)

You looked good - sickeningly good, the way it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. It’s unfair how in a room full of people, you still have all his undivided attention. It’s unfair, but you occupy his every waking thought anyway. The memories fill up his lungs like he’s drowning.

You’re wearing that outfit he loves, even though it’s not his place to love anything about you anymore. He tells himself that he’s pathetic. Because really, you deserve everything he couldn’t give you. He drinks in the sight of your happiness and chokes on the taste because he could never make you smile that way. He wonders if you’ve moved on the way he’s incapable of, if his name still gets caught in your throat the way your name gets caught in the beating of his heart.

Something like jealousy has his stomach turning when he thinks about you going home with somebody who isn’t him. It’s nauseating. His guilt tastes like your lips.

He downs the rest of his drink and slides out of his chair.

Don’t think about it, he tells himself, even though it’s all he can think about. 

You weren’t his, after all. You never were.

[serenthest4r]

!!!MUTANT MAYHEM SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

mutant mayhem just got released in Australia so I’ve finally been able to watch it and I wanna talk about a theory I have. This theory is that Mikey is the one who is going to be getting the Leo treatment this time around.

mutant mayhem does a very good job of balancing out each of the turtles screen time and they each play an important roll in the film but while I was watching something felt a bit off, the film wasn’t focused on more Leo and Raph’s but rather Leo and Mikey.

evidence from the movie:

In the backstory scene when the humans find out that there are mutants among them Splinter drops the turtles, most are around him but Mikey somehow rolls onto the road and almost gets run over. Fans of previous iterations will know that almost dying is a very Leo-coded thing so it seems odd that they would give it to Mikey.

When the turtles are walking back to the lair they have a moment where Mikey looks out longingly at the human world through a sewer grate before going after his brothers. It’s odd that this scene is just Mikey as we know that all the brothers want to have a life in the human world. The fact that it is just Mikey seems to hint at him having a larger roll within this universe.

Towards the end of the movie there is a scene when Mikey is standing alone looking around. He’s seeing things on fire, people injured while looking for his brothers. There’s ringing in his ears and everything is muffled, at one point he sees Mondo’s in some rubble and assumes he is dead before Mondo shows up at tells him that he’s okay. After that Mikey looks forward and sees Donnie stumbling towards him clearing out of it and has to watch as Superfly throws a car directly at him. This entire sequence seems like a Leo scene so the fact they gave it to Mikey just seems weird unless it’s going to link to something in the future.

At the end of the film it shows the turtles getting ready for their first day of school and once again Mikey is the last one to go, he has this moment where he’s looking back at Splinter and he then drops his mask to show that they’re entering a semi-normal life, in any other context the slow motion of the mask dropping could be taken as Mikey dying . Again this seems like a very Leo-coded scene. WHY DOES MIKEY HAVE ALL THE LEO-CODED SCENES???

In the post credit scene we can see all the brothers at prom, it then zooms out and shows Cynthia Utrom watching them through what I assume are security cameras, they’re all labeled as targets 001 through to 004, MIKEY is target 001. I do actually have a side theory as to why this is the case, when the turtles are getting ‘milked’ Mikey is the one with the most mutagen taken from him so that could be a reason for him being target 001.

evidence from the posters:

Starting with this poster the divide between Mikey and his brothers is really all I have to talk about. I just find it weird that they would give him the main spotlight for this.

THIS ONE is the one I wanna talk about. This is from a series of posters with the turtles weapon next to an ordinary object, the first different thing about Mikey’s poster is that the main focus goes fully across the page whereas the others are all in the centre. Secondly the object the chose were a pair of shoes on a wire which, if you don’t know, represent someone’s death. Which ties into the next poster:

This is again from a series of posters with a drawing of each turtle and than something about them such as Leo’s saying ‘double swords, quadruple anxiety’. Mikey’s says ‘he’ll risk his life for the last slice’. Risk his life? AS IN DEADTH???

all of these posters seem to foreshadow Mikey dying or at least pulling a Leo with a self-sacrificing move in the future and I am scared. Of course I could just be reading into it to much but I know the producers did not just put this stuff in the posters for a few laughs.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk I hope you enjoyed it :)

[tamavonpineapple]

Leosagi culture shocks I wanna see (based on my personal hcs)

Medicine/hygiene: as excited as Leo is to finally have Usagi visiting New York, you can't tell me that one of the first things Leo does isn't throwing his edo period boyfriend in the shower and chucking his clothes in the washing machine. Since they live in a sewer, Splinter made extra sure to drill good hygiene and cleanliness into his tots. As such Usagi's first two visits are spent learning about soap/shampoo (special kind for fur from Hidden City), toothbrushing, toilets, etc. I feel like he'd be amazed and shocked at how much cleanliness actually matters when it comes to health. He'd also be dragged to Donnie's lab frequently for vaccines. Even after bacteria and viruses are explained to him, Usagi would still be kind of scared and Leo is just holding his boyfriend's hand the whole time. Considering Leo is the resident medic, Usagi would be very interested in hearing Leo info dump on how surgeries and major wound stitches are done along with disinfection.

Modern tech: this one's obvious, he's from the Edo period and Leo is from the 21st century. Usagi is mesmerized by how advanced everything is and is shocked that none of it is magic. Donnie takes immense pleasure in educating Usagi in the ways of modern technology and how it all functions.

Culture: as a traveller, Usagi probably has quite the open mind for his time and generally appreciates the new cultures he comes across. I think he'd be so amazed at how big and how diverse the world is. Especially when it settles in how Japan (what was previously his whole world) is such a small part for an enormous planet. Considering that New York is an immigrant city, Usagi would probably adore how much of a cultural melting pot it is. Leo gets them some cloaking broaches and the two have several dates just exploring the cultural hubs of New York. Be it the traditional preserved cultures or the new ones created from the mesh.

Self expression: another thing I feel Usagi would appreciate is how freely people can express themselves. Be it gender or culturally, people just wear what they want. Especially people as nonchalant as the turtles. The four have been having fashion nights with April since forever and no way they didn't absolutely slay in dresses and skirts. No way they also didn't drag Usagi into their fashion shenanigans.

Art: it's canonically confirmed that Usagi is a lover of art in all its forms. He'd absolutely loose his mind at how many styles of everything there are. I can see him bonding with Mikey in this aspect, with the young turtle showing Usagi all the best drawing/painting techniques there are. Music is another big thing: he's that one dude who's spotify is just a mix of everything (different genres, languages, instruments, etc). Electro music is something he'd take longer to warm up too, but I think he'd end up enjoying vocaloid. Mostly because of how diverse in themes vocaloid is (depression, love, violence, redemption, etc) and because it's his first exposure to modern music that he can actually understand (since it's japanese).

Reading: I don't think Usagi would've been an avid reader before Leo. Mostly cause there wasn't much to read. Now that he can visit New York, he just gobbles up whatever literature he can find. He reads a mix of Japanese and English (helped him learn the language faster). Usagi really likes mythology, history, and poetry books. He also has a taste for the occasional novel and manga that Leo recommends him. As a samurai, Usagi's all about self improvement. So I feel like he'd read a lot therapy-esque books regarding things like healthy relationship and adjusting to new perspectives. He'd also work on any biases or assumptions he has from living in Edo Japan (like towards disabilities).

Media: like with any other tech, Usagi is shocked by how easy it is to learn anything curtesy of the internet. I also feel like he'd have a deep appreciation for the art of cinema considering its like theater but so much more. Especially with animation since its story told through moving art. Hell I bet he and Mikey have their own little animation stop motion drawing pads.

Relationships: here's where the biggest shocks are mostly cause how different things are from how Usagi was raised. First comes his relationship with Leo and how they each express love. Even nowadays PDA is frowned upon in Japan and Japanese don't tend to explicitly outright say they love each other. Usagi, who's probably very reserved with his affection and likely a little touch starved, is just floored with how openly affectionate both physically and verbally Leo is. I feel like he'd be a little embarrassed at first and slowly ease into being more open with how he loves Leo in more physical ways. Then there's the general Hamato dynamic. Even now, japanese culture has emphasis on respecting elders and the heavy expectations children have to succeed in the eyes of said parents. Combined with general edo period extreme formalities between parents and their children plus how Usagi's father barely raised him yet still put pressure on him to become a great samurai. Then we have Splinter: a rat man who's doing his absolute best to be involved in his kids lives and make up for the time they lost due to his trauma (mother's death, kidnapping, battle nexus, turning into a rat, etc), never pressures his kids, lets them grow as individuals and enjoy their own interests, very involved in their shenanigans, works hard to support his kids, and (most importantly) freely shows unconditional love. Just seeing a parent as involved and affectionate as Splinter is would be a big shock to Usagi. Especially a male parent cause traditional gender roles and since Usagi is from an era where fathers freely send their sons to die for honor while Splinter would blow up the Earth before even thinking of knowingly putting his sons at risk. Plus the brothers constant talk back and disobey their father. Then we go to the sibling dynamics. Like with parent-child relationships, edo period sibling dynamics were draped in formality and seriousness: affection is very reserved and any threats are literal plus the hierarchy placed by seniority. The Hamato siblings are probably Usagi's first exposure to a normal healthy sibling dynamic. Which would probably be confusing in itself since sibling relationships are a weird mesh of superficial hate but genuine love. Like Donnie wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for Leo but no way in hell is he touching his new boots. Any of the brothers could be arguing as if they're about to kill each other and be cuddling on the couch not 15 minutes later. The constant back and forth would be a whiplash for Usagi and it would take some time to fully decipher how they communicate. Then there's their relationship with April. Splinter doesn't see her as his daughter but she is undeniably the Hamato's big sister. If you add in Cass and Sunita, then you have Usagi reveling in finally having strong independent female friends who aren't potential love interests. Throw in Casey Jr and the typical TMNT adventures and you've got Usagi collapsing exhausted from the sheer craziness of this friend group. Usagi would be civil and respectful with Draxum.

Okay i completely forgot about this, I saw it during vacations and then proceeded to forget about it. Sorry Okay, ejem, there are thing that I want to adress.

1. During that (and previous) period, japan already had toothbrushes, shampoo and soap, they already new about hygiene. We tend to imagine that this topics are modern and, let's be honest, came from Europe. No, for GODS' SAKE TOILET PAPER WAS INVENTED IN CHINA DURING THE 6th CENTURY!! And let's bw honest, Usagi lives in a world of furries, of course they already specialize soap/shampoo. I had nothing to add to the vaccines, i had a couple of scenes already planned regarding that topic. However, Usagi has been stabbed a couple times, and was perfectly fine with Chizu drugging him so he could get a rest, I can't really picture this man being a childman who needs to hold someone's hand to get vaccinated. (tho it'll be ironic, ngl)

Culture: Usagi himself has stated some levelnof discomfort regarding immigrants in Japan, because is japan, I wont go deep here, cuz theres a bunch of articles and videos about japan being an isolated country. It is certainly easier to imagine an initial rejection and a LONG adaptation process that will culminate with him accepting that the world is much more diverse than he imagined, but he would not stop being himself.

Art: usagi and Mikey bonding through art It's another plot that I had envisioned for rabbit stew, Usagi's fascinated by markets, color pencils, and all that, but usagi will also showed him the traditional techniques from his father homeland, cuz you know, sumi-e and ukiyo-e, since they're not inferior to modern of different techniques. (Btw have you ever heard of that band that plays with modern and traditional instruments?)

As for the rest of it, I mostly agree with the other points you've made. Except for one small detail that is bothering me and that is that it only seems to focus on how New York is going to change Usagi... I'll be real with you all, if we are just going to make Usagi a white dude and erase what being a 16th century samurai is... Well, I don't see the appeal anymore.

There are also things to rescue from there that the modern society lacks, despite of how murky the society in which he was raised may be. But here it seems like we're focusing on how cool New York is over Japan.

And let me tell you, food, environment, manners, global warming? These are some of the many things that Usagi will have a strong opinion on... That's if it survives the rot that is being fed microplastics to actually learn about it.

[aealzx]

Omigosh ! Shame on me, I've only just noticed that you've done a written version of your comic. Or, at least, extra scenes and the sequel after Donnie becomes himself again.

I've read the first two parts with Raph looking after the recovering Donnie. How can I express my appreciation and admiration for your work? Your drawing style is amazing but your writing style is so descriptive and emotional. I can feel the brotherly love between the turtles, Splinter's love for his children.

You're doing an incredible job, I just had to tell you that.

I hope we get to see more of Disaster Twins after Better Genes.

Oh by the way, what's the reason for the title? Really curious about that.

And that's all I wanted to tell you. I also hope you are doing well !

Take care of yourself 💕✨

Ahhhhhhh no shame no shame XDDD That first post isn’t even like a week old, it’s no big deal at all. You’re totally fine.

Awwwww I’m so glad you enjoy it XDD Honestly comments are enough for me. My receiving love language is totally words of affirmation, so really, just comments pointing out one thing you liked is enough to give me a hit of happy chemicals for a whole hour or more XDD So euguuuuhhh ;V; Thank youuuuuuu omg, I’ve never really had my writing being complimented so much and have always felt like it was rather…scattered and subpar compared to “the good stuff” that makes people notice. So having it pointed out just TVT thank youuuuu. I’m glad the emotions bleed out well enough.

Thank you againnnn

Leo and Donnie being twins is one of my favorite fan headcanons I’ve adopted and looove to play with. But I also just love the dynamics between the entire family, so I end up bouncing around and none of the dous grab my attention permanently. That being said, I do have another Leo and Donnie section planned, as well as Raph and Mikey, Donnie and Mikey, and Carol in there too. XDD

As for the title XDD huuuu that’s a bit hard to explain. Mostly Better Genes is because the concept of double mutated Donnie was ripped from three TMNT 2003 episodes titled “Adventures in Turtle Sitting”, and “Good Genes” part 1 and 2. So I wanted people to know that I was referencing to those episodes, but didn’t want to have my stuff come up when searching those episodes. So I switched Good for Better XDD

But, I also went with Better Genes because it’s a more buried part of the story bit. The rottmnt boys were planned mutants, so it makes sense that they would be designed to have various ehhhhh plus points or whatever you call them. Enhanced strength, speed, etc. One of those that made sense to me was Draxum not wanting people to mess with his design, so I had the thought that Draxum made it so the boys’ genetics couldn’t be tampered with because their own genes would fight off anything that wasn’t part of the original design. 

These two sections kind of touch on that idea:

The reason Donnie was able to create a cure on his own within the vague time limit is because he wasn’t creating something brand new from scratch. His own immune system was trying to fight off the mutagen, it just was being overwhelmed. So he just isolated his own antibodies, and made more of them. And after that his own immune system was able to beat the mutagen, so he’s the one with the better genes X’D

Hope that made sense |D

Thanks again for the note 8DDDD I’m doing great, just eternally tired like everyone else. X’DD

Take care too~ Get yourself a treat if you want.

[foxsoulart]

Well, folks. I had a realization that I have not shared nearly enough stuff about Elicia. So.

Lore/info dump!!

Text heavy, have fun

Elicia was created a long time ago, when I could not tell you. She was originally going to be a black tiger with cream stripes, but I changed my mind as you can tell. The first time I drew her was last year, about a month or so before my tmnt hyperfixation fully kicked in

I went for a mix of domestic cat and big cat.

The original/main Ali is based in the 2003 vers. She grew up with the boys and Splinter.

She originally had more of a temper, but now she's more of a happy girl.(she's still got one tho)

Ali is her nickname, it's not elli because I felt it didn't suit her.

I've got several au designs/stories about her floating around in various stages of production, I've shared two of them.

Why yes she does do cat things. She loves being groomed, pet, brushed, given scritchies. When she was younger she often groomed her brothers and dad, typically when she was tired and feeling more affectionate.

Urges to knock things of counters and ledges have died down the older she gets.

She does not use any weapons, she never quite got the hang of any. (If I were to give her one it would be some type of blade, a few vers have)

Same age as her bros

Giving her catnip causes her to be overly physically affectionate. Absolutely no sense of personal space or boundaries. I'm talking borderline clingy. They made the mistake of bringing some home once, not happening again.

First one to meet AK

Closest with Raph.

I have her a bit taller than the boys. Not by alot

Physically affectionate, loves cuddling or draping herself over people.

Art is her outlet for when she's feeling negative emotions.

Fastest runner

Loves comic books like Mikey

Has a chi form just like the boys, haven't decided what it looks like yet

Can't cook, unless it's toast or rice. Somehow doesn't burn these.

I have her entire room setup written down, it's on my list of things to draw.

I know the 03 turtles don't wear clothes normally, but she is perfectly comfortable in them. Prefers it. A little harder to find pants because of the tail when she was little before learning how to alter her own clothes.

Never really got into jewelry, interfered with her stealth or snagged her fur.(if you made her a friendship bracelet she would wear it everyday tho)

Loves listening to Donnie ramble about inventions and science.

Collectively enjoys video games and skating, just like the boys.

Does not have cat allergies in general. And no aversion to water.

That's it for now, I love love love questions about my ocs and stories so fire away!

[yellowhollyhock]

Leo and Mikey

rant about their brohood under the cut

These two are the brothers ever. Their dynamic is so fun! They bring out the opposite in each other. Like, they are both athletic, responsible young teens with a love of reading (okay maybe Leo being a reader is more my headcanon, but I swear we see him spending his leisure with a book at least once, which is more than the other characters) who both have a deep and openly expressed desire to contribute to the world around them! Leo calls it Bushido, Mikey calls it “the greater good.” And they both love telling silly little jokes! Leo has a darker arc and takes on more of a leader role, but he doesn’t get annoyed with Mikey’s jokes the way Raph and Donnie do, and sometimes during a fight, if he’s relaxed, his sense of humor shines through (like his interactions with Usagi).

But put them together and they are not the same shade of green. All of a sudden instead of two teenage ninja turtles, you have yourself a Ninja and a Teenager. Mikey is beaming at the camera with a big thumbs up and an arm around Leo, who glares intensely into the middle space. And the best part is, they’re both enjoying themselves. Leo isn’t 100% serious leader guy, but he plays that role, because he sees that it will help his family and because he enjoys it! Being the ninja guy is his favorite thing! And in the exact same way, Mikey plays the goofball role, for the greater good, because that’s a way he can use what he loves to help the people he loves. They are both such showboats but they’ve taken opposite approaches and they really seem to respect and enjoy that about each other.

When Leo trains Mikey for his second Battle Nexus is a pretty defining moment. I adore the trust Leo is showing here. He’s got a lot going on, and what we’ve mainly seen from him in his interactions with his family at this point is that he criticizes. Everything. They’re always being too lazy or careless, not taking the threats as seriously as he does. But he’s so much less that way with Mikey. At the start of the episode he’s apparently been pushing Raph and Don to train all morning beyond what Master Splinter would expect (Raph says “if I have to beat you up one more time, I’m really gonna beat you up,” implying that the beating up was Leo’s idea), and yet he has no complaints about Mikey sitting off to the side reading comic books. And then when Mikey asks for more training he immediately offers it, without making a single comment about how Mikey’s been slacking before.

Now, maybe this is just Leo being soft on his littlest brother. But I don’t think that really adds up. His whole deal at that point is that he has to push himself harder to protect his family. If he actually thought Mikey were slacking off and causing problems for the team, and considering the way we’ve seen him scold him for that before, I don’t think he would hesitate to come down hard on him. But he doesn’t. And when they train together, Leo opens up more to Mikey than he has to anyone. It seems like Leo is going easy on Mikey because he really doesn’t see a need to be hard on him. He talks to him about digging deep and protecting the family. He knows his little brother has it in him. Like, that training scene almost feels like Leo picking a successor in the case of him not being able or willing to lead anymore. I’m not saying it is That, but the vibes are similar. He sees a lot of strength in Mikey and you can feel him trying to draw it out.

And Mikey does step up! Not just in the Battle Nexus but as a leader. He helps keep the peace more directly than he had done before. Even after Leo returns, you see Mikey sometimes guiding him along, reminding him of his goals, helping keep the team on track. And he does it without giving up his chosen goofball role. What a legend.

Anyway I love how when they’re together they lean into their respective roles, I love even more how they learn from each other to let more parts of themselves shine through. Leo loosens up and Mikey steps up. And they share this sense of higher moral responsibility that speaks of a positive view of a world that has been cruel to them. They’re just such good kids.

Also, they laugh a each other’s jokes. That’s very important.

Favorite moment: when Leo meets Shredder and almost joins him. All of his interactions with Mikey in that episode are excellent. But especially when Mikey isn’t even there and he mimics his voice to call the letter that just landed at his feet “air mail.” Bro is alone and still has to credit his jokes to Mikey. “This is my goofy little brother he says goofy things. I don’t say goofy things unless I’m mimicking him.”