#dandywonderous

[goodlucktai]

16 for the dialogue prompts?

dialogue prompts

16. “God, I’m so sorry, it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

@dandywonderous im so sorry about this in advance 🥹

x

When they were little, and they started wearing masks because Mikey wanted to be like the heroes he watched in Saturday morning cartoons, Donnie asked Splinter to cut the tails of his short so they wouldn’t get in his way.

Leo thought that was a crazy decision, because if the tails were short they wouldn’t match Raph’s. 

“So?” Donnie said, unscrewing the bottom panel of the oscillating fan he stole from Splinter’s room. 

“So what?” Leo said. 

“So what if I don’t match Raph? I don’t have to,” Donnie pointed out, a seven year old at his most reasonable.

His twin blinked, then his striped cheeks puffed out, brow furrowing, fully not understanding the question. He wanted to do everything Raphie did, but denied it when anyone told him so. 

This certain proof of that behavior made Donnie smile, quiet and indulgent the way he only ever was for his other half, but only when it was just the two of them. 

Leo whined and kicked his feet but Donnie wouldn’t tell him what was funny. 

Those long blue mask tails are sodden and heavy as Donnie shifts them out of the way, leaving a sickening trail of red where they drag against Leo’s neck and shoulder. 

They’re pinned down, what’s left of the tunnel groaning and shifting around them, at least three Technodromes filling the sky outside. Donnie can feel the hum of impending doom in his teeth. 

“Hush, Nardo,” Donnie whispers, hand clamped over Leo’s mouth hard, even though it cuts him to have to do this. “You can’t scream, mellizo. Hush.”

His twin writhes, digging at Donnie’s grip with desperate fingers. His chest is heaving, eyes wild with pain. The rosy glow of Raph’s ninpo is all they have to see by as the projection hovers above them in case of another collapse. In the dim light, Donnie can almost pretend it’s mud he’s kneeling in, warm and slick and pooling at an alarming rate from the slab of concrete that Leo’s right arm has been crushed under.  

The safe zone has been compromised. It’s devastating, but not at all surprising. Two of their scouts didn’t report in when they should have, baseline humans who didn’t have a hope of resisting the Krang’s method of interrogation, so it was only a matter of time before the enemy came knocking. 

April, Mikey and Cass have been evacuating their people and transporting supplies in and out of sunny orange portals all morning while Draxum, Hob and Usagi guarded their every move with eagle-eyed vigilance. 

Donnie, Raph and Leo were holding the Krang at bay for every extra second that they could, but they stayed out there a second too long. 

Now Leo is bleeding and the Krang hounds are prowling, their horrible faces scraping the ground as they sniff out that rich source of life, and Donnie’s mind is blank with panic. They’re trapped, and if he lets go then Leo will scream and bring death down on them, and if he doesn’t then death will come anyway, with teeth and venom.

“Shhh, Lilo,” Donnie tries to soothe, imagining Leo’s sweet, bright ‘shhh yourself, Dodo!’ in place of the uncomprehending whine he gets in response. “God, I’m so sorry. It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Maybe we should pray, he thinks wildly. Not to god, because that would be a spectacular waste of breath, but to one of the people who left the party early and might be willing to toss a miracle or two in their direction. Papa, or Gram-gram, or April’s mom. 

The red projection surrounding them begins to shrink. Slowly, making sure the rocks above and around them won’t shift, until the ninpo is just a warm glow beneath Raph’s skin. Donnie feels a rush of relief and anticipation—Raph has a plan, Raph will tell him what to do. 

Raph puts one arm around Donnie’s shoulders and cups Leo’s face with his other hand, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Blood smears beneath his fingers. His expression is hard to read in the dark underground. 

“You’ll be alright, big man,” Raph murmurs, all conviction, as if he can make it true out of sheer love. If anyone could, it would be him. Then he says, “Donnie, can you cut him out?”

The question makes his stomach lurch with nausea, bitter and acidic, but it’s a question that he can answer. After fighting in a three-turtle team for the better part of two hours, Donnie’s ninpo feels like coffee dregs left in the bottom of an empty pot. He has enough strength left that he could summon a tool for an emergency amputation, but only that. 

“Not quickly,” he says pointedly, “or quietly.”

Raph nods. He just sits there for a minute, holding them. They don’t have a minute and Raphie knows that but he’s just holding them. Donnie’s heart begins to race in a brand-new direction, some frightened thing in his very center sitting up and taking notice. 

Donatello has always been an incredible number of things, not all of them good or noble or worth bragging about, but above all else, at the end of each and every day, he was Raphael’s little brother. 

Donnie didn’t imitate him when they were kids—didn’t wear his mask tails long or find reasons to follow him around—but he was every firm hug Donnie needed to keep his skin from itching when life got too loud. He was an attentive, listening audience when Donnie had to talk about the things pingponging around in his mind without being interrupted or he’d scream. He was the large hands that held Donnie’s, the snaggle-toothed face that smiled in encouragement, when Donnie learned to walk. 

Donnie knew him fundamentally. Intrinsically. A textbook he never had to study, knowledge that grew up with him from the first moment he opened his eyes to the big, bright world. That’s how he knew what was about to happen the second before it did. 

“No,” Donnie says hoarsely. “Please don’t.” 

“Raphie’s gotcha,” Raph says warmly, the last steadfast and solid and remarkably kind thing left in the apocalypse.

He reaches down and presses the panic button on Donnie’s gauntlet. The alert activates with a bright pinging sound effect, echoing twice in their little disaster-made cavern as it’s received by Leo and Raph’s comms, and the Krang hounds nearby whine and bark in excitement. Their claws churn up earth and rock as they start to run.

Raph spares a second to press a kiss against Donnie’s temple, and another to Leo’s forehead, and then he’s gone. The light goes with him. Donnie shakes like a leaf, unreasonably cold, unable to think. 

Leo is half out of his mind by now, sobbing and jerking at his trapped limb, but all his agony is soundly drowned out by the brutal battle Raphael is leading far away from them. 

“Hush,” Donnie whispers, eyes stinging so badly he can hardly keep them open, tears dripping endlessly down his face. “It’ll be over soon.”

[pinetreevillain]

ok well I'm basically dead lol the end of Confrontation killed me in the best way

anyway

you may have said this before but are you cool with fanfic of your Tim series?

asking for no reason in particular...............

I’m glad u enjoyed Confrontation, I was THE MOST excited to release that one 👐👐

And ya know?? YEAAAAH why not! I like to encourage creativity, and I feel comfortable with the things I’ve shared about Timothy that I can trust you guys to characterize him well (if you ARE writing about Timothy that is lmao)

[callmehere-iwillappear]

7 for the expression challenge with ghosty boy?

why is that the most leo option of all the expression options available. pls

[kiaxet]

Gimme BTS for both Siblingquest and Lethal Measures, scene of your choice!

Lethal Measures first, because that one's been around for a bit and we have fun here:

If the government wants to get to Donnie or his brothers, all it would take would be one particularly morally bankrupt decision maker to make the call to go after April- And they’d never know, until she failed to check in. Or they’d force her to open her phone and keep checking in in her stead - it’s not like those messages are particularly long or detailed - and they’d never know at all- He pushes away from the screen, letting the chair roll as his mind scrambles. They’d never know- April’s in danger- they’re all in danger- he should’ve known- he’s the tech guy, the genius of the family, the only one with any cybersecurity savvy- he should’ve known- this is his fault- they’re all in danger and it’s his fault- they- he- he- He pulls his legs up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, burying his head in his knees and gasping for breath as his heart pounds in his ears and his brain spins out of control, caught in a cycle of guilt and the looming unknown, and he- He loses time. Slowly, his breathing evens out. His heart quiets down. The world gradually slides back into focus. This is his fault, and he will fix it. Later. After the Krang issue is taken care of. Under observation for the time being means that they aren’t planning on making a move, and he can set up another monitor program to notify him if that ever changes, as well as any other changes they make to the dossiers. Forewarned is forearmed, and he’ll be armed enough to make sure they regret ever thinking about coming after his family- But they aren’t yet. Priorities. He’s okay - he’s fine - he just needs to focus.

It's inaccurate to say I've never seen an episode of TMNT 03 in my life - I'm sure I have; it was just 20 years ago, and all I remember is the opening theme. I sure as hell did not remember Bishop, so he wasn't a factor when this particular scene (read: Donnie realizing a government black site specializing in xenobiology knows about him and his family) - the Government Agency in question was a blank slate for me, and I figured I was already in AU territory and could just keep digging. I wound up with Site 39, who are far more observation-focused and prefer to prevent trouble than cause it, meaning Donnie's fears about the government coming after his family are currently unfounded.

It's not like Donnie knows that.

This poor kid has helped avert an apocalypse, nearly lost his family in the process, made the entirety of his family's recovery his responsibility, is absolutely traumatized and absolutely refusing to acknowledge that (let alone take steps to assuage it), and has decided that a Krang hunt is a good use of his time, because he wants to get rid of the last Real Threat to his family. Finding what he believes is a second Real Threat is a goddamn hammer blow to his psyche. So he immediately puts it on his To Fix list, along with literally everything else, because sometimes Donnie doesn't learn unless someone else hammers it into his head.

I do have fun writing panic attacks - there's something about the mechanics of breaking up sentences and the very- abrupt- nature- of the hyphen as punctuation that really works to paint the picture of a thought process spiraling out of control.

I have had exactly one person who didn't know about it beforehand pick up on the repetition of I'm fine and he's fine and what it means to the story, and I fucking love them.

Siblingquest time! I'm pulling from the little that's published, so as to avoid doing a DVD commentary on something that would currently count as spoilers.

“Anything on the scanner, Donnie?” Leo asks for what feels like the millionth time. “Negative. Even New York’s Finest are having a boring evening.” Donnie sighs and slumps as much as the lightweight battle shell will let him. “You know, Spider-Man never has these problems.” “Nah, Spider-Man has other problems,” Mikey says evenly, finishing a wrist stretch and sliding his brace back on. “Like, all the time. It’s definitely a good thing we aren’t Spider-Man.” “Yeah, and I don’t think Spider-Man could handle being us.” Leo smirks and offers Mikey a fistbump, which Mikey reciprocates and explodes, fingers waggling gleefully. “You know,” Raph says, leaning in, then pauses. “Well, one, Spider-Man ain’t got nothing on the Mad Dogs. An’ two, if nothing’s happening, we could just go home for the night. Raph can’t vouch for Donnie, but Raph hasn’t used his screen time today, and we could go play Smash-” Which is when the sound of glass shattering echoes through the street as a window smashes outwards, a barely-disguised ram yokai barreling through it, something small clutched to its chest. It stops, shaking glass out of its horns and fur, and then hoofs it up the street. There’s a beat of silence, and then- “That was not the kind of Smash Raph meant.”

Most of the writing that exists for Siblingquest right now was written in a NaNoWriMo word sprint haze and cleaned up in post, as it were. This means that a lot of the non-load-bearing prose - conversations, jokes, small interstitial scenes that aren't super plot heavy - was written as quickly as possible and pulls directly from whatever happened to be on my mind at the time.

My roommate and I also spent much of November playing Spider-Man 2 on a borrowed PS5, so it was on my mind at the time. Modern Spider-Man problems, generally speaking, tend to end with messy upheaval and at least one person Emotionally Important to the Spider-Man in question dying a painful but meaningful death. The Hamatos do not want Spider-Man problems, and Spider-Man could not handle the Krang.

("But they handled the Symbiote-" The Symbiote in Spider-Man 2 and the Krang as presented in Rise aren't anywhere near the same weight class. The Krang would body Venom. Being voiced by Tony Todd would not save him.)

(...someone give me a fucked up Krang/Symbiote amalgamate now, please.)

Also, comedy is hard and I am very proud of that last joke.

...also fuck it, have a preview of coming attractions in Siblingquest:

“Oh, nah, I’m thinking Run of the Mill.” Leonardo looks up at Cissy. She probably ought to hop down and join them - she hadn’t been thinking. “You ever been?” Context says it’s a place, likely one that serves pizza, but aside from that, nothing. Cissy shakes her head. “Then we definitely need to go. C’mon, guys, Cissy’s first Run of the Mill visit!” “Don’t gotta twist my arm,” Raphael says easily. “Donnie?” “Far be it from me to turn down the offer of pizza.” A beat. “Though if Nardo puts his Hawaiian on my plate again, I’m taking his arm off.” “Donnie, he needs that-” The arm conversation continues, and Leonardo gestures at Cissy to join them as he and Michelangelo start heading out the door. Cissy finally steps off the rafters and lands on the ground, swiftly catching up to Donatello and leaning in. “It’ll come off easier at the shoulder,” she says, voice low to avoid catching Raphael’s ear, “but you’ll need to pop it out of the socket first.” She puts on speed to catch up to Michelangelo, and only hears Donatello’s incredulous, “How do you know that?” behind her after she heads out the door.

[theashemarie]

5, 7, 13 for the writer asks!

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Honestly, I pretty much always write whatever I come up with, but while I was on a Leverage binge I wanted to write a rottmnt heist fic, but shelved it because it required coming up with… y’know… a heist. Also a rottmnt/H*rry P*tter crossover, but I’ll never write that, obviously

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

Ah, right now… Eight, but I counted the two that will never get written, so six, including the three I have posted right now. Usually I have a couple ideas in the pipeline, but I’ve been consumed by one idea for over a month now and it hasn’t left room for anything else.

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

It depends on the fic, but honestly I usually like to have a solid idea of the initial conflict(s) and see what happens from there. Generally, I want to have an idea of what the ending will be (in loose terms) as well, but I hate having anything more solid than that for the middle. I’ll loosely outline MAJOR (and i mean major) plot beats so I know what I’m working toward, but I usually work more with anchor scenes (scenes I plan chapters around) than any sort of outlined arc.

For example, for The Old College Try, I know whereabouts the fic is going to land, and I knew what I wanted to grapple with (education vs. instincts, knowledge vs. wisdom, masking, body dysmorphia, identity, leadership, etc.) but not necessarily how it would manifest. Originally the fic was supposed to be a twoshot, but we see how that turned out haha.

And for this new fic I’m working on (tentatively called Time Capsule), I want to make sure everything is TIGHT so I’m trying to get it all written before I start posting. I know a LOT about where it’s going and how we get there, the character beats, the ending, the middle, the arc… I don’t know EVERYTHING because I have to leave my brain room to explore while writing, but it’s already mostly planned.

I find both styles of writing very rewarding, but my eternal, everlasting, and unchangeable flaw is that I never ever write any planning down. I just keep it all in my head. And I regret it every time.

[last-hourglass]

💞 for the writer asks!

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

oh, by far the prose itself. I agonize over the specifics of how the prose flows throughout the narrative, making the word choice punchy and poetic, altering the POV for maximum OOMPH of information reveals, building up to the cliffhangers, etc

I have active WIPs for stories that have basically the entire plot structure figured out, the worldbuilding completely sorted, the characters thoroughly established, all that jazz, but they stagnate in the limbo of first draft because my perfectionist brain wants to get the prose right on the first try

ironically, all my fics are First Draft only. I truly do not know how that happens. i'm so mad about how good some of the prose is for my fanfics. WHERE ARE THOSE VIBES FOR MY OC STORIES

[thelamebat]

I can’t help that I got hit with nostalgia for MY BOY

BEST BOY. HE DESERVES a kingdom >:)

[tmntaucompetition]

Hello! Just wondering, was Firefight/Sidelined vs Portal Baby supposed to go up today? It was in the last round of polls so I’m not sure if this is a mistake or we’re doing a rematch

YEAH that was supposed to go up yesterday, I accidentally posted it Tuesday though. So I just deleted the one that was put up yesterday haha.

[daboyau]

Chapter ten of the Rise Hunger Games AU! Remember when I said this would be about six chapters total? Boy, was I wrong! We’re at double digits now, and not even into the meat of the Games yet. Hope you enjoy the calm while it lasts!

prev/

Here, have the tag list. Fingers crossed it actually works this time!

@boots-with-the-fur-club @qwerty-keyboard-is-superior @theonlybrightowl @dandywonderous @dandylovesturtles @elijah-doodle @fredquinn @sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist @heckitall @beannary @brightandfullofglory @purplepixel @pomelined @imagionationstation @daughterofskylark @eb177 @lilysplash @midwesternvibes @burritello3000 @justchillininthebackground-06 @snowleopardtherebel @kiaxet

Knives have never been Donnie’s preferred weapon. He can appreciate the versatility of them, and how easy they are to carry or conceal, but he has never particularly enjoyed how close one has to be to use them effectively. It’s messy. Plus, contrary to popular belief, they aren’t really all that efficient at killing a human being unless the wielder knows exactly the right place to stab or slash, and has very good aim.

If he had the choice to pick any weapon, he’d go for a gun. He’s often eyed the Peacekeeper’s weapons, wishing he could get his hands on them, if only to take them apart. He wants to learn all their weaknesses, and figure out how to make his own better version. There’s a reason that precious few of the Districts have ever tried to fight back against them, despite having significantly more numbers. 

Unfortunately, guns have never been an option during the Hunger Games in the past, and he suspects that won’t be changing this year. Luckily for him, papa has ensured that he does indeed have all the necessary knowledge to use a knife, as well as a number of other weapons.

He adjusts his grip around the hilt and strikes out at the training simulation, a quick slash to its holographic throat causing it to crumble to pixelated dust. Another quick hard jab, and the next has joined its pixelated brethren in the great technological beyond. He whirls at a soft click behind him — the telltale indicator that there was another digital opponent spawning, he had surmised early on — and a backhanded stab to the throat has the indistinct figure dissipating before it has the chance to fully form. 

The room slowly begins to brighten as the simulation ends, and Donnie steps off the platform. His breathing is a little harsher than he usually allows during training, and the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat has the back of his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He shudders at the feeling. His back still feels strange after Draxum had poked at it the night before. The phantom sensation of pins and needles linger despite the exo-spine having no real nerve endings to speak of. Worse, if he moves too fast or bends too far, he can feel his legs tingle and he begins to lose sensation in his toes.

“The worst of those side effects should only last about 12 hours,” Draxum had told him dismissively, when Donnie had informed him of what he was feeling. Apparently, with his growth the last 14 years, the device had to be recalibrated to ensure it would continue functioning as intended. It had made him feel vulnerable and sick, forced to sit on the edge of the bed as Draxum fiddled with the most vulnerable part of him and his legs had suddenly stopped being able to hold his weight. The lingering sensation of fingers against his skin and the electric pain of tools inside his exo-spine had kept him up throughout most of the night, long after Draxum had left and Donnie had kicked his papa out to retire to his own room, not wanting to upset him with having to watch as Donnie rode out the after affects of having something integrated with his nervous system messed with. Yoshi had reluctantly given in, leaving Donnie gritting his teeth and hissing with each new spark of pain or each terrifying loss of sensation and control over his own body alone. It was the first time he actually felt glad that he wasn’t sharing a bedroom with his twin; the last thing he wanted was Leo (or anyone else) worrying about him.

He doesn’t trust that the man hadn’t done something; sabotaged him in some way, or installed some feature that would come back to bite him later. The fact that he couldn’t effectively examine his own back for signs of tampering just made it all the worse. If he could only take a look at it, then he might at least be able to soothe the anxious pounding of his heart that threatened to overwhelm him whenever he spent too long thinking about how dangerous it was to allow anyone he doesn’t trust implicitly to have access to his back. If it needed any cleaning or maintenance at home, he’d usually instruct Leo or April on how to do it, while Mikey or Raph held up mirrors at various angles so he could keep a close eye on the proceedings. Not an option now, but maybe he can have papa hold a mirror, at least.

After returning the knife to one of the weapons racks, he sighs and slinks over to grab a sealed bottle of water off the little table of refreshments that had been set up in a corner of the massive gymnasium. The other tributes are scattered throughout the space, a handful of them looking determined while most of the others just look lost. Donnie was one of the few to find a weapon and get to work immediately, and he knows that that decision means that there will be eyes on him now. That fact could work against him, painting a target on his back, or it could help him to form potential alliances if he chooses to go that route. It’s hard to say, since past games can’t offer conclusive data considering the participants — and therefore line up of personalities and group dynamics — change each year.

Not like he is any better, of course. He’d made sure to note which of his fellow tributes had moved with confidence and which had hung back or hesitated, just the same as all the rest of them. He knows better than to discount any of the more hesitant ones, though. A smart strategist might put on a front to keep attention off of themselves. That would have been what Leo would do in his place, he was sure. After all, Donnie is also holding back. 

“You were really good in there,” a voice says from right beside him, and Donnie chokes on his water. Apparently, being attentive while lost in thought is a skill he’ll need to work on.

The girl standing beside him is young, maybe 14 or 15. She stares up at him with wide green eyes when he turns to face her, like she’s expecting a response. Donnie clears his throat and casts a quick glance around them and then towards the other tributes, hoping to find that she was talking to someone else. No luck there. He looks her over, taking in the blonde hair and round freckled cheeks, trying to remember which District she belongs to, before it clicks.

“Ah, you’re from Eleven, right? The…sexy corn girl?” 

She stares up at him, mouth popped into a little ‘o’ of surprise, and he’s pretty sure that means he said the wrong thing. He looks away, focusing on the other tributes once more. He has just enough time to think at least if I’ve offended her she’ll leave me alone, before he hears a little snort beside him, and when he looks towards her once again he’s surprised to see her smiling. 

“It was really bad, right? The stylists for my District were awful this year.”

“They were,” he agrees easily, still confused as to why she’s talking to him. She nods and hums, and she hasn’t stopped staring at him. There are bags beneath her eyes; evidence of how the last few days and the impending Games have been weighing on her. He imagines he must look just as tired and beaten down.

“I heard about how you helped the District Three kids,” she says. “It was kind of you to do that.”

He almost doesn’t realize what she’s referring to, staring at her blankly before it finally clicks. He snorts derisively and waves the words off. He wishes she would stop smiling at him.

“It was easy to fix, the stylists were just idiots,” he mutters, taking another swallow of his water. He hears her giggle. 

“Yeah, it seems like there was a lot of that going around this year.”

He hums his agreement, and takes a half step further away from her. He’s nearly ready to get back to his half hearted training montage, but he’s not sure where to focus his energy next. He’s been eying the survivalist area of the training grounds, but one of the other boys has been hogging it for nearly an hour. He’s not really interested in sharing right now, or in socializing with other tributes. 

Speaking of which. 

“Bye,” he says dryly to the girl as he drops his empty water bottle back onto the table and turns to leave. 

“Wait! I wanted to ask you something.”

He probably shouldn’t bother, but he is curious. He turns back, eyes narrowed and arms crossed as he waits impatiently for her to finish her thought. She won’t look him in the eye, but after a beat, she finally gets herself together enough to blurt out, “Can you teach me how to use a knife?”

He stares at her for a long time, trying to figure out if she’s joking or not. It’s in poor taste, if she is. She stares back with those wide green eyes, hands clasped together as she rocks on the balls of her feet. He squints. 

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah! I’ve never had to use one to fight before.”

“Ask one of them,” he tells her dryly, gesturing vaguely to the Capitol-provided trainers. She makes a face he doesn’t know how to read, then shakes her head quickly. 

“I already tried that! They’re just interested in the Careers. The guy that was showing me kept getting distracted the whole time!”

“Right…but consider this; Why would I teach you to use something that you could then turn around and kill me with in four days?” 

“Because I won’t be able to learn enough to be at that skill level from just a lesson or two, but it might be enough to keep me from dying immediately?” she tries, grinning sheepishly. Donnie frowns and his eyes wander back towards the survivalist center. Still occupied. She clears her throat. “And also, what if I promise not to fight you in the arena?”

“What, like an alliance?” He can’t help the way his voice drips with disdain at the word as his gaze slowly move back to look at her. He’s watched enough games to know exactly how well alliances tend to go. There can only be one survivor, after all.

It’s difficult to meet her eyes, but the long strands of her hair sway when she shakes her head. Her voice comes out soft as she says, “No, nothing like that. More like a promise, I guess? I won’t kill you. You won’t kill me. We won’t have to help each other outside of that.” 

The words almost make him smile. Silly things like promises will never survive the Hunger Games, but it’s a nice thought. Probably something Raph or Mikey would take her up on. His heart does a painful little twist in his chest, and the tips of his fingers tingle. He swallows, hard, and then sighs. 

Well, not like he has anything better to do, right? The only thing he’s interested in working on at the moment is still being hogged. And papa did always say teaching others was the most effective way of honing your own skills.

“Go find a knife that feels comfortable in your hands, then come find me,” he says by way of answering, and the girl makes a small, excited noise and hurries off to do as he’s asked. Donnie watches her go with a scowl on his face, already knowing that he’s going to regret this. Raph is going to be so disappointed in him if he dies because he spent his training days helping other tributes instead of focusing on himself. But it’s not like there’s much here that he can learn from anyways…he hopes. 

He sighs and scrubs his hands over his face, then pulls them back quickly when the smell of sweat and whatever oil is used to maintain the knife he’d been practicing with hits him. Looking around to see if he can find somewhere to wash his hands, his mind drifts back towards Draxum once again and his eyes wander towards the cameras tucked away in the corners. The elevated balcony where the Capitol politicians and Gamemakers will sit is unoccupied for now, but he wonders whether Draxum or any of the others are watching them. 

I made it, Draxum had said, his fingers never stilling in their methodical examination. He had seemed to catch the way Donnie had gone stiff with surprise at those words, and he had felt more than heard the soft huff of amusement against the bare skin of his back. Goosebumps had prickled uncomfortably over his flesh.

“I was not expecting that,” he muttered, eyes staring stubbornly towards the blank expanse of wall. Draxum twisted something that made a jolt of pain light up his nerve endings, and it was only force of will that kept him from crying out.

“No, I suppose not. It would be too much to expect Lou to have ever told you the truth.”

“Lou?”

“Your father.”

“My father’s name isn’t—“

“Yes, yes, he prefers to be called Yoshi now. I’ve heard.”

Donnie had frowned at that, irritation at the dismissal of his papa fanning the smoldering embers of barely repressed rage in his chest. At his side, his fingers kept twitching and jerking without his input. A cold sweat had broken out on his brow, and it was only the trepidation at how vulnerable he was at that moment that kept his mouth shut and his hands at his sides. He wished that his papa could be in the room with him. Some support would have been nice. 

“Is this one okay?” A voice asks, and Donnie is proud of the fact that he doesn’t startle at the sudden interruption. He accepts the knife the District 11 girl is holding out to him without looking at her. It’s well balanced, and the blade is dulled so that tributes won’t accidentally (or intentionally) injure themselves during training. Its hilt feels small in his hand, but it should fit her fine.

Are tributes this small every year, or is it just a bad haul this time around? He tries to remember, but they always seemed so distant on the holoscreen. It’s usually easier not to think about the little ones. They never last long enough to leave an impression once they enter the Arena.

“This’ll work,” he says, flipping the knife and handing the dull blade back hilt-first. She accepts it with a shaky little smile he doesn’t want to look at. “Follow me.”

He leads her to a small outcropping of fake, plastic trees. They’re intended to be used to practice climbing and camouflage, but they provide enough cover that hopefully he can do this one lesson without drawing attention from the other tributes. Though he doesn’t plan on saying anything to her about it, there’s a good chance that if the others believe the two of them are planning on working together, she’ll end up with a target on her back. 

He circles her with a critical eye, adjusting her stance and the way she grips the knife. Her nails are painted, pink and sparkly, reflecting the dim glow of the buzzing overhead lights. Her knuckles have gone white from how tightly she’s holding it, so Donnie taps the backs of her fingers until she takes a deep breath and loosens her grip. Then, he takes a few steps back and gets into a familiar beginning stance. 

“Come at me like you’re planning to attack me,” he tells her, and can’t help but smirk a little at the shock that flits across her face. “You won’t hurt me, but it will be a good chance to see where you’re at.” 

She chews her bottom lip as he speaks, then slowly nods. “If you’re sure….”

“Oh, worry not. I’m quite sure you won’t be able to get a single hit in.”

Unfortunately for her chances of survival, he’s correct.

.

Donnie waits until the clock in the corner of the holoscreen reads midnight before he gives up on trying to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning in the too-soft bed are just wasted effort and lost time, and he’s finally settled enough that the idea of food doesn’t make him want to vomit. Might as well get a snack while he still has the chance. He’s sure food will be scarce inside the Arena. 

He moves with silent steps, listening carefully, almost hoping that he’ll find Kendra waiting in the kitchen again. He hadn’t seen her during the training session earlier, and she had avoided his gaze during the tense dinner hour. 

Much to his displeasure, he had realized about halfway through the meal that he did, in fact, miss what little scraps of camaraderie they’ve found with one another over the last few days. As prickly and generally unpleasant as she is, at least Kendra’s simmering fury at their situation feels familiar. It’s preferable to Atomo’s overly eager cheer or his papa’s barely masked sorrow. At least they don’t have to pretend as much when it’s just the two of them. 

Donnie sighs, shoulders slumping, when he finds the kitchen dark and empty. The light from the refrigerator feels blinding when he swings it open, and the soft suction of the seal giving way seems unspeakably loud in the sound proofed silence of the large apartment. He knows he’s allowed the freedom to wonder the cage-slash-living-quarters, and that there are more than likely already eyes watching him through the glass lenses of the cameras positioned all around the apartment, but it still feels like he’s doing something wrong by being out of his bedroom so late at night. He’s gotten used to never being left alone. It’s not a pleasant realization.

He hurries to find something palatable, settling on fruit and some plain crackers he scavenges from the cabinets. He hesitates only a second before he shrugs and decides to bring the snacks to his bedroom. After all, what will it matter to him if the apartment gets ants or he stains the fancy sheets? It’s not like it will matter; just a few short days, and he’ll be either dead or the lone survivor of 24 children. They can put him - or his body - in a different room if this one is still dirty by then. He’s not going to be in any state to care either way.

The slick tile floor melts away to plush carpet as he pads through the living room and back towards the hall lined with their rooms. He pauses briefly outside the first door, hands tightening around the edges of the plate in his hands. The ceramic makes a sound that has him cringing as his nails scrape over its surface, and he wonders if his father might finally deign to look his way if he makes an offering of food. It’s not cake, but maybe…. 

Donnie takes a step closer and does his best to swallow down his jittering nerves. It’s not like he’s never had to find ways to get his father’s attention before, but it feels much worse to have to fight for his affection when they may have one another for only a few more days. Plus, he doesn’t even have April or his brothers here to compete with. Shouldn’t it be easier now? 

His hand pauses just inches from the intricate metal plated carving that decorates the door. He frowns, and leans a little closer, ear pressed to the cold metal. He heard his papa’s voice, but who…?

For one horrible, disgusting, disappointing (but not surprising) moment, Donnie thinks it must be Atomo in there with his father. He leans back slightly, ready to turn tail and bolt, when the female voice speaks again and—

It’s Kendra. Somehow, that is both infinitely worse and also far more suspicious. He braces himself and leans close again, but though he can hear the muffled voices, he can’t make out what they’re saying. It just sounds like droning, low and secretive, rising and falling like the tide as Kendra’s anger ebbs and flows and his father fights to get a word in. 

Donnie’s throat feels tight. Suddenly, he’s not that hungry anymore. He leaves the plate of food on the little hall table he hasn’t figured out the actual function of yet and retreats to his own room, trying not to let the sting of betrayal cut too deep.

[intotheelliwoods]

I love nearly singlehandedly providing this fandom with the Present and Future Leo fluff it did not know it needed <3

I mentioned it a bit in the ESSAY in this post, but to restate, I do not have any plans on having the two fight. Or have any form of resentment! There will never be such a time do not worry :)

They are both very impressed and astounded over how much the other has grown!

---

2AL absolutely slayed no doubt about that. I would have reblogged or said something about it, but honestly it was just really funny watching my mutuals fight the bloody battle in my honor lmao

---

I actually mentioned this a good bit in this post! I have indeed thought about this on multiple occasions!

Regarding Future Leo and Splinter: OUghh I will forever think about how their reunion would go, but so many other people have done their own take on the reunion to the point where I do not see much of a need to add my own take, since it would not be very different from the others (as in it would involve crying, hugging, face cradling, something about getting so big, you know, the usual)

Regarding Present Leo and Splinter: Ok now THIS could actually actually go somewhere as a new concept, I ended up just doodling this thinking about it haha. Splinter would be very pained over the whole situation, it already hurts him to see his sons go off on dangerous missions, its another to see that one now bears a permanent wound from it. I think Splinter, along with mostly everyone else, would avoid looking at the missing arm as much as they can, until the proshetic comes in anyways. Leo meanwhile, is definitely using "it was bound to happen no matter what I did" as his excuse and reasoning for why no one should feel bad about the ordeal

Though before I do literally anything with Splinter I need to stop being a coward and finally get to work on the Casey comic oops

@dandywonderous

---

I am assuming this is from the arm cut off scale, in which case, congratulations anon you are a normie

2 through 4 <- the normie range /j

---

Little sidenote meanwhile: I am begging you all to have a little bit of mercy when sending in art requests/suggestions. Little doodle requests are fun! Asking me to create a full comic or something that will take me multiple hours is not fun. I was not going to bring it up but seeming as its happened multiple times now I thought I should just say a something.

The only reason the last comic was "inspired" by two anon asks was because one of them actually genuinely inspired me, and the other was nice and vague enough that I could incorporate it into its story.

[unpredictable-probabilities]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @dandywonderous

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

19. I'm fairly new to fanfics, I only started reading and writing them in 2020.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

356,543

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'm currently writing for The Sandman, but most of my works and my WIPs are for Twisted Wonderland, and I had written one chapter of a fic for Love Never Dies.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Granting Favors (Twisted Wonderland) 2. The Two Princes (Twisted Wonderland) 3. A Way In (Twisted Wonderland) 4. Tomorrows Over Centuries (The Sandman) 5. Post-Gala Celebration (Twisted Wonderland)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love interacting with my readers in the comments section~ Sometimes it takes me days to respond sdkjfkdslfj but I do respond! And I'm trying to make a habit of replying sooner.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, I always write happy endings, but currently The Repertoire Continues (Love Never Dies) and A Dragon's Soft Spot (Twisted Wonderland) have angsty endings, but only because so far I've only written their first chapters 😅

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Tomorrows Over Centuries (The Sandman). Mostly because almost the entire fic is the characters just having a fun time. (Also it's Explicit because of the third chapter, just a heads-up in case you wanna check it out.)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

So far no. I'm actually low-key scared of getting some, haha.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup. All smut I write have a lot of Feelings, even if there's no plot to the fic. It's always romantic smut. It's just fun to write.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

So far no. Though I really wanna write a The Sandman and Good Omens crossover someday. The idea itself is a bit daunting for me, haha, but I've read a fic with that crossover, and I genuinely wanna attempt it myself.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, that would be super cool, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I've co-written a few fics with @patchyegg87~

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling (The Sandman) Azul Ashengrotto/Jamil Viper (Twisted Wonderland) is a close second!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I would like to believe that I can finish all of my WIPs, haha. But the one that would probably take the longest to finish is The Repertoire Continues (Love Never Dies), which I realize is ironic given the title alskjdfsldf. I rarely see any other content from the fandom so my brainworms for it don't get activated. I would still like to finish it someday, though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and emotions. Character voice is one of my favorite things to write, discovering how different characters would have various reactions to the same situation. I've often had to modify outlines because I'd realize that the original flow of the scenes didn't make sense anymore because the characters' reactions wouldn't lead them to that outcome. And bringing emotions out of characters is fun too, especially the stoic and tsundere characters. It's why I like writing Hurt/Comfort, haha.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing descriptions for places, outfits, and food 😣 Especially places. I have a hard time imagining what a place might look like. That's usually what I ask @patchyegg87 for help with when we co-write fics. And she has recently taught me how to use Pinterest as a reference when writing descriptions for stuff, and I'd been practicing that. I really wanna get better at writing visual descriptions, it's always so cool when I read a fic that has such vivid imagery.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have no problem with it. The very first fic I'd written, A Rival in Scarlet (Twisted Wonderland), has some French sentences in it that were translated into English when the POV switched to the French speaker's. Fanfics are for having fun, and sometimes part of that is incorporating another language you know or are trying to learn~

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Twisted Wonderland

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Ooh, I don't know, that's a hard one. Granting Favors (Twisted Wonderland) would always have a special place in my heart because it's my first multi-chapter fic and I honed much of my writing skills in that one. "I Do": The Long-Term Deal (Twisted Wonderland) is also very fun to write and that's the fic where I really learned to write character voice well because it's post-canon and the characters have aged a few years, and it was fun to figure out how they had changed in that time while retaining their core personalities. And of course Tomorrows Over Centuries (The Sandman). I'd read a lot of Dreamling fics before writing that one, and I was so happy to finish a Dreamling fic of my own. I love them, Your Honor.

Tagging:

@patchyegg87

@signiorbenedickofpadua

@cerealmonster15

@hardly-an-escape

@beatnikfreakiswriting

@takohebi

and anyone else who wants to do this!

[ultimateduoswagshowdown]

@dandywonderous i am so sorry

[callmehere-iwillappear]

🌹 🌹

[kiaxet]

🌹🌹

“I knew it!” is all the warning Leonardo gets before Donatello kicks the chair out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

He looks up at Raph, grin wide and eyes sparkling. “Oh, she’s gonna be fun.”

[theashemarie]

Most memorable scene off the top of my head is in Old College Try when Leo answers the question about The Lottery correctly and realizes Donnie is mad about it, and then the following scene where he’s like, “I’m smart! I listen when you guys talk! I know who painted the Mona Lisa!”

That whole sequence of events is /chef’s kiss

Oooh that scene was so fun to write and actually the whole reason I even started Old College Try. Just like, what if Leo is actually one of those quietly knows way more than you think types + he doesn't realize it until he's forced. I'm super hype to know that whole sequence worked so well because it's basically the lynch pin of one of the conflicts ajksdfasdf Thank you!!

[daboyau]

I’m curious about what your answers would be @dandywonderous @boots-with-the-fur-club