#he is too wholesome for his own good but he would be too Powerful if at this point he wasn't seeing Alberich through purely platonic eyes

[intothegenshinworld]

     "An Enchanted Evening" 

Banquets and parties alike weren’t uncommon in the Zapolyarny Palace. Funny enough, you seemed to be getting invites to them nearly every other month. One of the more silly perks of knowing Pulcinella, you suppose.

 ⟡

Like any other event, PULCINELLA would be the one signing his name as the sender of your letter of invitation. With your long standing acquaintance, he can’t help but see you as his adopted grandchild and a possible successor in the future. No matter the event, he’d try his best to involve you. At first he only did so to grant you access to the most elite connections in Snezhnaya and to elevate you to a higher status, but you quickly found your way into the hearts of the other Harbingers as well. From serving glasses of champagne during the annual winter ball as a server, to being seated amongst the most important people in Snezhnaya as a beloved friend. – Luck must be on your side if you’ve swayed all of their hearts, and who are you to refuse their affections?

As another close acquaintance to the 5th Harbinger, it's natural for CHILDE and you to have a close connection too. While you might not share the same lust over power and battles, you're able to confide in him without judgment. He is good company, and he often shares the most epic stories from his adventures and the more wholesome ones of his family in Morepesok. Should you at any time find the banquet to be boring, he's more than up for leaving and sneaking you out. However, be prepared for a scolding from Pulcinella once your missing presences are noticed by the others.

If you decide to sit next to PANTALONE at the banquet, you’ll likely catch his smile crumble at some point during the banquet—it being replaced by a scowl as annoyance visibly sets on his face. When yet another plate crashes or a fight breaks out and chairs get thrown across the room, he unconsciously counts the heaps of mora he’d need to spend on repairs just because a few people are insolent and refuse to have manners. Fortunately, he seems to have a soft spot for you. If you ever happen to break anything, on purpose or not, he suddenly seems to be oblivious to the action. Ask him anything, and he'll get it for you. After all, everything has a price, and what's a few million mora and a couple of favors if he can capture your heart in the end.

After a glass of wine, SIGNORA will start to share gossip with the Harbingers, often causing arguments between others as these bits of news are not in favor of her colleagues. She watches the entertainment from a safe distance, but if you call her out, she’ll try to avoid causing any more chaos during the banquet. Of course, in return she expects you to keep her entertained instead. If you drink, she’ll coax you to drink enough for you to spill your own secrets. And while she doesn’t care about the safety of others' private affairs, she’ll keep yours close to her chest.

As the fireplace crackles in the background, ARLECCHINO will mutter disapprovingly under her breath. The loud arguments, the spilled wine, — she can't stand the lack of etiquette at the table, and the sight of an elemental attack nearly hitting you makes her cringe. So, go on. Sit next to her. She'll keep you safe from the more unruly Harbingers. In the meantime, if you're polite and express genuine interest in her, she might share a few stories from Fontaine — but only if you offer some stories of your own in return. No ulterior motives, she simply wishes to know you at a more intimate level than the others do. 

Between the enthusiastic and annoyed Harbingers, SANDRONE appears to be disinterested. Unimpressed by the stories of her colleagues, she sits in the chair, poking the food on her plate with a bored expression. If you try your luck by approaching her for a conversation, she’ll likely gain some energy. Mention her robots or any of her current projects, and she'll expect you to listen thoroughly for the remainder of the night. Don't worry, if you fall asleep you can rest your head on her shoulder. It's not like she'll be joining any dances or the conversation of the others anyway.

While the fellow Harbingers are captivated by the variety of food and bustling atmosphere, CAPITANO will find a way to excuse himself to take a breather. Often, events like these are exhausting, and as a soldier of war, he’s unable to fully relax or make small talk. Still, as he walks out into the quiet halls of the palace, he hopes you’ll follow him. He doesn’t need someone to check up on him, but your worry warms his heart and he adores it when you fuss over him despite his status and rank. As you approach him in the halls, he’ll tell you he needs some air, and when you hesitantly turn to give him space, he’ll call out your name, holding his arm out for you to take — asking if you’d want to join him on a walk before returning to the ongoing banquet.

The banquet would be incomplete without DOTTORE causing a commotion. Whether it's arousing a heated argument between others or spiking the drinks with god-knows-what, he's up to something and you're forced to keep an eye on him unless you want to be his next ‘experiment’ at the event. There is no way you'll talk him out of it either. But if you decide to cover for him, keeping still as he throws a strange liquid into the drink closest to him, he might let you in on his unconventional ideas of fun, if you can handle it, of course.

While most of the Harbingers try to stir up trouble, SCARAMOUCHE thrives on creating pure chaos and watching the place burn down. He constantly gets into arguments, finding the whole ordeal unpleasant, and yet you see him present during every event you’re invited to. And while the Doctor schemes and gets away with the many pranks he pulls, the Balladeer finds amusement in the anger of others, uncaring of the consequences and keeping things unpredictable as people yell at him for the ninth time that night. Ask why he's never attacked you and he'll tell you that your reactions aren't worth it. But is that truly all? Perhaps the fleeting glances are a sign of something more.

COLUMBINA will go unbothered by the chaos around her. Even as food flies around the room, she remains unfazed. Her serene and enchanting presence seems to be an anomaly amongst the others, but don't be fooled, she has you right where she wants. During the banquet, she'll capture your attention and successfully steal you away from any other conversations. She'll find ways to hold your hand and somewhat sneakily steal food from your plate. You're not sure when the night ended either, time seems to flow weirdly when you're around her. 

PIERRO sits at the head of the table, chatting with the more quiet people that sit next to him as he calmly observes the others in the room. The demands of being the director of the Harbingers have left him feeling drained, making him too exhausted to actively participate in the lively atmosphere during events. Instead, he seeks solace in the quiet moments.  If you're able to slow things down with him, you'll find yourself a permanent seat beside him.  And as you’re able to get to know him better, he starts engaging in more conversations with you. For once, it appears that he might genuinely be enjoying himself.

©intothegenshinworld. Do not copy, repost, translate, or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thanks for reading.

[amongemeraldclouds]

The Slytherin Boys as Disney Princes

Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Also features x f!Reader as their equivalent Disney princesses.

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I share my written work.

✿ Masterlist | 1.8k words

From the Wizarding World to magical fairytales, let’s crown our beloved Slytherin boys as the following Disney princes:

Theodore Nott as Prince Charming (Cinderella)

Note: Prince Charming doesn’t have much personality in the original 1950s film, but we learn more about him in later films, where I drew information from.

✭ Raised in privilege as a prince, Theodore Nott lived a very charmed life just as the name Prince Charming suggests.

✭ With only royals and commoners to distinguish class, he is less prejudiced and more accepting of others. His father taught him at an early age that they have a responsibility to their people just as their people serve them.

✭ Because of this, he is open and friendly to everyone, including animals. He was once hunting down a deer only for it to be a game in the end, him and the deer are actually friends. (Note: Yes this is canon Prince Charming and is very Theo as well.)

✭ If Disney were less wholesome, Theo as Prince Charming would have regular lovers, but it will only always be physical. He has not yet found a connection with anyone, but it doesn’t matter because he enjoys sex. He certainly never runs out of women to sleep with.

✭ Beneath all the charm, he secretly hopes to find a love match. The kind of relationship that transcends strategy and status. He longs for passion and romance, much like in the books he reads in the castle’s library, though he’ll never let anyone know.

✭ His father in the meantime is keen to see him married to an eligible maiden so he threw a ball. He rolled his eyes and yawned when no one was looking, initially bored because he still couldn’t find the connection he longed for. At this point, he doubted he’d ever find it. 

✭ Then he met you. You in your light blue dress and glass slippers. Everything about you sparkled and it ignited something in his heart. He never knew romantic love before you, but he recognized it right away.

✭ He wouldn’t care that you were a commoner, he’d admire your courage and kindness once he got to know you. Besides, true love was far more valuable than any precious metals and gems.

✭ After you ran off, your glass slipper gave him hope. He was going to stop at nothing to find you, his true love.

Mattheo Riddle as Flynn Rider (Tangled)

⋆☀︎. Left to his own devices, Mattheo Riddle would go on countless adventures across different kingdoms and forests, thieving only as a means to an end so he could survive. 

⋆☀︎. He enjoys the rush, being chased by the authorities and not being held down by rules or responsibilities. (Except they can never get his damn nose right on Wanted signs despite the distinct cut he has on the bridge of his nose iykyk.)

⋆☀︎. With his charming personality and irresistible smolder, he’s an expert in banding together with fellow criminals and often smooth talks his way into ladies’ beds. All temporary partnerships for his on-the-go lifestyle.

⋆☀︎. Until one day he comes across you, the girl with golden hair and big eyes — not to be underestimated with your ferocious pan wielding tendencies. He learns the last part a little too late, the hard way.

⋆☀︎. As he promised to take you to see the floating lights in exchange for the crown, he finds himself having fun swinging his fists and learning about your power to bring out the good in people.

⋆☀︎. You managed to charm tough guys in a bar, getting them to talk about their dreams—of being a florist, of performing on stage, and of falling in love. He realizes it may not be so bad to go on adventures with someone else.

⋆☀︎. He was already mesmerized before he learned about your magical hair. He saw the light within you long before that enchanted night when lanterns floated through the air like stars hung low just for you. And of course, they were always meant for you.

⋆☀︎. Before Mother Gothel could plunge the weapon in him, he already knew he was a goner. He knew he could never go back to who he was. He was now and forever going to be a moth to your flame, your soul as radiant as the sun even long after your golden hair turned brown.

Blaise Zabini as Kristoff (Frozen)

•❅*ִ Much like Kristoff, Blaise Zabini exudes a quiet confidence that does not need to declare itself.

•❅*ִ As an ice harvester who works with ice picks, hooks and ropes, he has an athletic build and a tough exterior, but do not be fooled for he has a soft heart within.

•❅*ִ Having grown among trolls and reindeers, he sometimes gets frustrated when interacting with people. He believes reindeers are better than people, but all that changes when he meets you.

•❅*ִ He is very practical and honest, but when he is blunt he often means well. He is quick to call you out on the fact that you’re about to marry a man you hardly know.

•❅*ִ He initially agrees to help you end winter to save his ice business and get a new sled. However, the more challenges you face together, he grows to admire your fearlessness and determination.

•❅*ִ While you initially find him to be annoying, you soon discover his charming and funny side.

•❅*ִ He will however suppress his feelings for you, thinking it’s better to let it go because you’re already engaged anyway. But when truths are revealed and no one is who they appear to be, you’ll melt his frozen heart with a kiss on the cheek.

Draco Malfoy as Li Shang (Mulan)

✿ To Draco Malfoy, loyalty and family legacy is important, just like Li Shang who aims to be just as great as his father, the head of the Imperial Chinese Army.

✿ He is disciplined and has mastered both physical and strategic ways of waging war. He has a lot of traditional beliefs, including making a man out of his troops using elaborate physical training.

✿ He starts questioning those beliefs when he sees your determination as Ping, using both weights to climb up the pole even though it took you countless failures throughout the night. What were these confusing feelings in his chest?

✿ Yet he couldn’t deny it, nor would he try. He was ready to lay his life down for you even before you saved him. It didn’t take him long to return the favor when he found out you were a woman and so he spared your life.

✿ Despite his firm upbringing, he was always loyal to his heart. Even though you betrayed the army, he knew your intentions had been good and that your hard work made you a skilled soldier.

✿ He listened and trusted your last ditch efforts to save the Emperor, even resorting to cross dressing as part of the plan. It all paid off as you saved the Emperor and all of China. 

✿ In the end, you were absolved of your deceit and honored for your heroism, finally letting your reflection show who you are and what you’re made of. Your final crime was stealing his heart.

Tom Riddle as Aladdin (Aladdin)

✶ Tom Riddle grew up as an orphan and resorted to a life of crime to survive in Agrabah. Secretly, he enjoyed it too.

✶ Smitten by your beauty, he saved you from a merchant at the market and he was impressed with your agility when it came to dodging the authorities.

✶ When you reached Aladdin’s home, you revealed you were from the palace and left thinking you’d never see him again. He longed to visit the palace to get another glimpse of your beauty.

✶ Named as a diamond in the rough, Jafar recognized Tom’s talent and recruited him to steal the magic lamp from the Cave of Wonders. Encouraged by the promise of riches (therefore power) and a subconscious need to please Jafar, he takes on the task, saving a magic carpet in the process.

✶ Back at the palace, your father sought to marry you off to find a successor to his throne. You met suitors, including a flashy prince called Ali from Ababwa.

✶ On a magic carpet ride, you trick Ali into admitting he’s the thief you previously met at the market. He manipulates you into thinking he’s the prince and the thief persona was just an act for him to get to know the city better.

✶ When Jafar uncovers Tom’s identity, he steals the magic lamp and wreaks havoc using the genie’s wishes. Understanding Jafar’s ego, he tricks him into wishing to be the most powerful being in the universe, which imprisons Jafar in his own lamp as a genie.

✶ Instead of using his last wish to continue being the rightful prince who can marry you, he used it to free the genie, as he has now learned how power corrupts others. It wasn’t worth it.

✶ Crowned as the next sultana, you recognized how our actions and choices defined us. Despite Tom’s manipulations, he showed up and was willing to learn. He was not afraid to look into the dark and make the right decisions when it mattered, a husband fit for a ruler.

Lorenzo Berkshire as Jack Frost (Rise of The Guardians)

Before you come at me, I know Jack Frost is not a Disney prince, but I’m a Jelsa truther so here we are.

❅ Lorenzo Berkshire mirrors Jack Frost’s love for mischief and games. As the guardian of fun, he enjoys playing harmless tricks on children and hearing them laugh as a result.

❅ Beneath the playful exterior, he deeply cares for those around him, having saved his sister from a frozen lake. His ultimate sacrifice led to his untimely demise, which the Man in The Moon rewarded him by making him immortal and granting him powers. 

❅ He never found much need for romance, opting to spend his days playing with children and visiting his fellow guardians instead. Until one day, he visits the Enchanted Forest and comes across you, its mighty protector.

❅ Despite the initial distrust, he wins you over with his easy smile and sincerity. You never realized it until then, how lonely it was to be an ice queen without her king.

❅ Jack was also amazed to find someone else who could play with the magic of snow. He felt seen and understood like never before. For once, the loneliness in his heart melted away.

❅ So you spent your days together, laughing over silly jokes and exchanging stories. The cold never bothered you, but being with him made you understand why people enjoyed the sweetness of hot cocoa and why they cuddled close to a fire.

❅ Both your friends and family were happy for you. One day, Jack asked you to invite everyone so you can have a contest on who built the best sculptures. Your audience and judges comprised of Jack’s fellow Guardians, Queen Anna and King Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.

❅ You showed off with iced gardens, towers, and even the shape of Sven, but none was more impressive as when you turned around to find Jack on one knee, a gleaming diamond in his hand. It was a picture perfect moment with ice sculptures in the background, celebrated with loved ones. 

❅ And soon, the ice queen would never be without her king.  

✿ Masterlist <- read more!

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Hello, Happy Valentine's Day, first of all and second, I always liked the idea of Alastor dating a relative of the Overlords, so could you make Alastor dating Zestial's granddaughter? 🌺ψ(｀∇´)ψ

A/n: yep! Sorry this took so long! Also I think this is my first ever post about Alastor so let’s hope this goes well!

-Romantic

-I’m not too sure of their relationship, but by the looks of it , Zestial and Alastor seem pretty close, like good friends. Maybe not as close as he is to Rosie, but definitely close.

-Zestial, being older, would of course be aware of the danger Alastor is, and how deadly he can be, but I believe Zestial has some sort of trust in him.

-You, were Zestial biological granddaughter. Once you died and went to hell, you reunited with him, and he was overjoyed to have found you.

-He seemed to play more of a fatherly role than a grandparent, but he doesn’t smother you, you are an adult after all. You also tagged along overlord meetings with him, and when he ran his own meetings you’d be there to help

-You most likely met Alastor at an overlord meeting, you were pretty new to hell so you weren’t aware of what he’s done.

-Out of curiosity, you approached him to get to know him, he did look around your age. And you have no regrets doing so, he was oh so charming. He was polite too. You couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter in your stomach every time you speak to him.

-Of course, your grandfather Zestial noticed your jittery actions near him, and the way you’d get nervous and always try to be more sweet with him. He had a little chat with you that night, but told you that you could date or be with anyone you love as long as you’re careful.

-And like he said, you did love Alastor, so you wanted to be with him. And surprisingly, you managed to score a date with him! Or more like an outing, he’s not a very romantic guy, he’s charming and sweet, but not romantic.

-At the beginning of you two dating, he made it clear he didn’t want any sort of physical affection or intimacy, especially no sexual contact. You didn’t mind, love isn’t all about sex anyways. It’s not like you fell for his body, you fell for him, his personality and charm.

-he’s definitely going to try and manipulate you a little bit in the beginning, maybe attempt to make a deal with you and use you as bait for Zestial? He could do that. But you followed your grandfathers advice and stayed safe, not giving into any deals that involved selling souls.

-He’d try to get information about Zestial out of you. Sure Zestial and him were good pals, but Alastor is still pretty darn evil, he’d want some sort of info about his plans or meetings, or just about him in general. You can’t lie, you’ve accidentally told him some personal info, like some plans before.

-Now later on while you two are officially together, he’ll let you give him more physical contact. Nothing sexual though. For example, small pecks of kisses on each others hands or faces, hugs, holding hands, or just wholesome cuddling in bed.

-He doesn’t really mind if your the granddaughter of another powerful overlord, he’s not the type to respect higher beings, Lucifer for example.

-He’s gonna be protective, let’s say that. Any one that threats to hurt you, or even thinks about it, will instantly be Alastors next radio broadcast.

[speadrunner]

Who is (actually) the hottest Monsters & Girls character?

Link to poll: https://www.tumblr.com/idolomantises/745892368364060672

CW: This will be a long post;

(Note: this is completely for comical purposes, please don’t take this too seriously. I have all the respect in the world for @idolomantises and their work)

1. Sera

👍: Perhaps the titular character of the series, Sera is beautiful angel (literally) and is arguably the kindest character in the whole series

👎: I challenge you to draw this woman without screaming at yourself/into a pillow

2. Lili

👍: Endearing, welcoming, understanding, and can be very fun. Pretty much wears her heart on her sleeve with how open she is.

👎: Literally THE sexy character. It’s obvious why you picked her as the hottest, now go get better tastes.

3. Cheri

👍: She’s sooo soft omg. She’s so sweet you’ll have a sweet tooth just for her even if you don’t like sweets

👎: I will not talk ill of this lady because I literally cannot, but for all intents and purposes this is a contest to see who is the hottest, not the most wholesome. Sorry 🫡

4. Junior

👍: Blunt and cute, plus a goat. Cute goats are always an A+ character design. Where would we be without them tbh?

👎: Bluntness can lead to rudeness and or discomfort. Nothing super bad about Junior just prob not the best choice for this. Just sayin

5. Scylla

👍: Lord have mercy I understand where people are coming from. Hooo doggy what a woman.

👎: I can’t remember the exact post but I recall it being said that she bites your head off or something if you get too close or look at her weird. That’s no good

6. Ciel

👍: Easily one of my favorite designs. He’s definitely the prettiest boy of the entire cast

👎: One of those cases where he’s too good for you, ya know what I mean? He’s way out of your league I don’t make the rules

7. Catty

👍: Nya~ Very fashionable going off of recent appearances. Design hasn’t changed too much in comparison to others, meaning that

👎: I like dogs more, plus she’s not open with her thoughts and feelings, leading to awkward moments when she lets it all out

8: Luvart

👍: Big, beefy, strong, fire. Need I say more? She treats sex workers with respect for their profession and would be a completely package when you don’t consider…..

👎: …She has no qualms murking you just because and her greatest offense is being the arch rival of the best character a special someone

9: Adam

👍: Dude can become a dog for you to pet and is quite honest in most cases. Plus those scars look neat wouldn’t you say?

👎: Unless you are a - former angel now fallen, a TV show host, have a broken halo, while simultaneously sharing a name with a pizza company and a game tile, then you ain’t getting nothing.

10: Domino

👍: I can see why so many are stricken by this fella, he’s quite cute, quirky, and has an adorable way of being blunt

👎: (Domi- No hoes) He’s just not good enough. He seems so ideal at face value but he berates angels to the moon and back and for what? His fault for his own downfall.

With all that said, clearly the hottest character of Monsters and Girls - for appearance AND character - is obviously….

POWERS

LITERALLY PERFECTION IN ITS PUREST FORM! CHISELED LIKE A GREEK GOD(DESS), ROSE TO BE AN ANGEL - REJECTING HER DEMONIC ORIGINS, FOLKS IT JUST DOESNT. GET. BETTER!

A Vote For Powers Is A Vote For Truth, Love, And Happiness!! Vote For Powers in the Home Stretch Now!

[alexa-fika]

Whatever you do is going to be good anyway

But the scenario am picturing is in Marineford

Winged Reader is with Mihawk and he's hiding but during the chaos he finds himself hiding in the Whitebeards ship

And when they save Ace the escape with Mihawk's son And they try to help him go back to Mihawk

But if you want to change anything that's okay

🐼💕~

Enemies yesterday, Babysitters today ( Whitebeard pirates x male!oDracule!child!reader)

A/N: Okay yall I honestly might revisit this later and add more wholesomeness to it cause im not completely content with the level it has right now, but you tell me does it make you kick your feet?

Dividers by @/saradika

“Gurararara Ace, how are you feeling?”

"Doing good pops, still mad my jolly Roger got erased,” he grumbles

“We can do the tattoo Again; just be glad you are only missing that and not your life; you were almost a goner there.” Marco sighs

“Fair enough, still stings when I look in the mirror, though,” he mumbles

A crash sounds across the ship as what sounds like boxes and a scream echo from the storage room of the Moby Dick

“We might have a stowaway…” Marco notes

“Is it one of the bastards from Marineford?” Jozu growls, activating his devil fruit

“Be Careful, Jozu, we do not know who we are dealing with here,” Izou says, pulling out his guns

“Don’t even think about it, Sir; you are still healing,” One of the nurses comments, looking towards Whitebeard, who grunts in response

“We’ll handle it, pops; I don’t mind a little exercise; I’m bored, and if it is one of the bastards, I need to let out some steam,” he says, walking towards the storage room; the rest of the commanders, following behind him

“Whoever they are, they should be able to hold their own if they managed to make it on board,” Thatch says, his eyes lighting up with a twinkle.

“I wonder what they would be doing in the storage, though…”

“It’s probably a marine stowaway; probably best to show him some rough treatment,” Vista says as he smirks, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Come on out.” He calls our

Ace kicks the door open.

“Alright, whoever you are, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Ace says, grinning

“If they don’t answer, then we’ll have to find them ourselves,” Marco says as he begins to activate his power

Ace walks ahead and peeks into the corner where the commotion could be heard from, and he stills, making gestures to their fellow commanders to lower their weapons as he kneels down

“Ace, be careful; a wounded man is still a threat, especially the ones trying to hide,” Marco states as walking next to the second commander

“Don’t lower your…guard.” he stops glancing at their stowaway

“Pop’s is going to love this one,” he mutters, turning back to the rest of the commanders

“It’s a kid”

“What, is this someone’s kid? A stray?” Izou questions, looking down at the stowaway

Reader glances between all the men staring him down, inching back and trying to make himself smaller, covering himself with his wings

“Kid, what brings you here ?” Ace says with a soft voice,

“How were you able to get on board? How long have you been hiding for?” Ace says as he sits on his knees to meet the kid's height, looking at him directly in his eyes

Reader glances at Ace for a second but lowers his face and tries to dig himself deeper into his caccoon between his wings

“He's scared, a very brave kid, that one, I would be too if I was in this situation.” He says, smiling kindly at the stowaway,

“Hey, it's ok, you're safe now.”

“Wait.. you’re, you're the kid that was with Hawkeye when we were dueling,” Vista states, taking a closer look at the winged child

Reader looks up at that

“You know, Dad?” He mumbles

“Oh yes, yes, we know who he is,” Vista answers as he gets on his knees beside Ace.

“What are you doing on this ship, kid? You know this isn’t the type of lifestyle for someone as young as you?”

He unfurls himself from His wings slightly

“I -I left the raft. Dad told me to stay on the raft no matter what, but I thought he was going to get hurt, and then Uncle Shanks came, and I got scared they were going to fight again,” he rambles on

“I think we finally have the story here. That sounds like an adventurous kid,” Ace says, rubbing his brow in thinking

“A bit brave and reckless, too,” he adds on

“He’s definitely got a good head on his shoulders,” Izou says approvingly of the boy

“Okay, you ended up on the battlefield because you got scared for your father, but how did you end up here in the Moby Dick.” Inquires Marco, looking down at him

“Everything was confusing; there was so much going on, so umm, I kinda ended up here..”

“Aww, Kid, we’ve all been through times like that; I’m sure your father will be grateful you at least took the initiative to get to him,” Thatch says with a smile.

“But, you can’t just board a pirate’s ship and expect them to be kind; you might not be as lucky next time,” he says, kneeling down in front of him

Marco sighs

“let’s bring him out to Pops; we’ll talk about what we’ll do from there.”

“Yes, I think that’s enough questions for now; I don’t think this kid needs a full-on interrogation just yet,” Vista adds.

Reader gets up hesitantly and approaches Vista, stretching his up, opening and closing his hands

Vista chuckles, lifting the child and putting him on his hip

“Are you really Hawkeyes kid?”

He nods

“Are you friends with Dad?”

“Not exactly…I mean, we know each other and have fought before…” Vista trails off, slightly unsure of what he wants to say

“There’s…mutual respect between us, but we have found ourselves on opposite sides on the battlefield.” he says, mulling over his words, trying to define their relationship best not to alarm the small child.”

“Regardless, we will help you return to your father; do not worry.” Ace states

“What are your names?”

“I am Vista of the Flower Swords”

He gestures at the group

Portgas D. Ace.”

“Jozu of the Diamond”

“Marco the Phoenix”

“Thatch, Head of the Ships Cooks

Flintlock Pistols Izou.”

“Geez, Vista, No need to be so formal.” Thatch sighs

Reader smiles, his wings flapping happily behind him

“Im Dracule Reader, umm Reader from Papa!”

“Reader? What an interesting name for a little boy.” Izou says with a slight chuckle

“This is Pops, Whitebeard, the captain of this ship,” Vista says, walking in front of said man

Reader awes at the man fluttering out of Vista’s hold and up to Whitebeard

“You’re big! You’re bigger than the humandrills at home!” He says, circling around him

“I was wondering who was making that ruckus; what brings this brat here,” he says, glancing at the flying boy

“He said his name was Reader, Dracule Reader,” Marco said, glancing up at both

“Dracule? What is your relation to Hawkeye?”

“That’s Papa!”

“Hawkeye is your father?” He says, looking over to Marco, who nods

“Vista confirmed it; he saw this one lingering around the battlefield close to Hawkeye.”

“That is correct, pops; the little one is Hawkeye's son,” he says proudly, pointing at Reader

“We found him hiding in the storage room.” Marco clarified

“He said he followed his father into the battlefield but lost him in the heat of the battle,” Vista says, explaining the circumstances as to how Reader found his way to Whitebeard's crew

“I see, in that case, Bring me a Den Den Moshi,” Whitebeard says to one of the nurses next to him

“We’ll get into contact with your father.”

“You’ll help me get back? But Mister Vista of the Flower swords said you were fighting with Dad.”

“Yes, your father and we are on opposite sides; however, your father was just following orders from the Marines, and regardless if he was an enemy or not, you are not. I know the pain of losing a son,” he says, glancing at Ace

“Because I know the pain, I do not wish it upon anyone right now; this is not between enemies but between fathers. You were not involved in the fight, and as such, there is no need for you to suffer from it,” he grunts as the nurses bring him the Den-Den Mushi

Reader’s lip quivers

“Thank you!”

“You’re safe now, kid; we’re going to call your dad and let him know you’re safe; once we do, we can arrange somewhere to meet. You’re lucky you picked the right ship to stow away on, kid,” Marco says

“I’m sure your father is worried sick trying to find you. Don’t worry; we’ll make the arrangements to get you back to your dad,” Thatch says with a smile

Reader flies down to to where the commenders stood

“Thank you, Marco, the Phoenix and Thatch head of ship cooks.”

Marco chuckles at this

“Vista, this is why I said not to be so formal! Oi kid, no need for titles.” Thatch groans out

“Is Thatch head of the ships cooks not your name? But Vista of the flower swords said those were your names?”

Thatch chuckles

” You’re something else, kid; I like you.”

“Ah?” He tilts his head, confused

“I can see you are going to be quite the handful; Vista told you our names and Epithets, surnames in Ace’s case; you don’t need to call me Flintlock Pistols Izou; you can just call me Izou,” he comments, chuckling, along with the other commanders

”Izou’s right; we all have titles or epithets; you’ve got a good head on you, kid; how about you give it a try,” the chef said, gesturing to himself

“Umm, Thatch Cooks?”

“Cooks? Now I’m not sure if you’re messing with me or not,” he laughs

“Not quite that; try again, just one word,” he says while trying to hold back his laughter

“Thatch?”

“That’s right, see, not so hard you’re already learning.” he laughs and ruffles his head

He beams at the compliment and glances at Vista

“Vista?”

“Haha, that’s my name, kid,” he says.

“Well done!” he exclaims happily, picking him up once again and placing him on his shoulders

Joyous giggles escape the small boy, holding onto his head and flapping his wings occasionally to keep balance until he picks up the sound of the Den Den Mushi ringing and a familiar voice coming through

“Hawkeye,” Whitebeard calls curtly

“What do you want, Shirohige? If this concerns the recent battle, I really do not have time-

“It’s about your son; he is here.”

Mihawk falls silent for a moment

“What?”

“Your son stowed away on the Moby Dick; he said he was trying to escape the head of the battle and ended up in my ship.”

“Where are you?”

“We are approaching Sabaody Archipelago.”

“Very well. I will be there shortly.”

“We’ll be waiting for you,” he said, hanging up and glancing toward the child

“He will meet us at the next Island.”

Reader can’t help but laugh with relief, glad that they will see their father soon

Vista chuckles

“You’re in a better mood than you were when we first discovered you now, aren’t you?”

He nods

“Im gonna see Dad again!”

“You sure are; you just have to stick with us, and we’ll ensure you get to him safe and sound,” Ace exclaims

“Okay!”

Vista smiles, taking off his iconic hat and placing it over the child

They giggle as the hat envelops them, and he raises it slightly to take a small peek and be able to see

Ace smiles at the gesture, happy to see the kid smile after the traumatic ordeal he’s been through

“Glad you are in a better mood,” Ace grins, ruffling Reader’s hair

“That’s good to hear, kid; I’m happy as well,” Marco adds, giving the kid’s hat a little pat before pulling it back down to cover them

They shriek cheerfully as they are once again enveloped by the hat

“Gurararara, We’ve got ourselves a live one; didn't get that from your father, that’s for sure.” he grinned as the ship pulled up to the Archipelago; it was still dark out but slowly beginning to become morning in the distance

“Hm? Isin’t that Hawkeye over there?” Thatch comments, squinting his eyes to a small raft that slowly approached the Moby Dick

“Let’s not get too close to the raft; let him approach us,” Izou says, looking towards the raft

“He won’t try anything, not with his son here, and Im sure even someone like him can tell when he is outnumbered with all of our commanders and pops here Marco says, leaning against the railing and staring at the approaching raft

Ace approaches the railing, trying to get a better view of the raft, looking to make out the figure at the front

“It is him.”

“Dad?” The small child says, peeking out from under the hat again

“Dad!” He exclaims, taking off towards the approaching raft, ignoring the calls from the pirates as he barrels into Mihawk, hugging him tightly, tears pooling in his eyes as he apologizes repeatedly.

“I’m sorry, Dad; you told me to stay in the raft, but I thought you would get hurt, and I just caused more trouble for you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cries

Mihawk stands frozen for a second, taken back by his son’s words

“No. Your apology is unnecessary. The fault lies in me for leaving you alone. What’s important is that you are back with me now.” he says, embracing him

“Look, I require you to stay by my side from now on, okay? No more running off by yourself.” Mihawk says as the raft gradually comes closer to the Moby Dick.

He nods his head vigorously, the hat too big for his head, wobbling around at the movement

Mihawk glances up at the hat and raises an eyebrow mutely, questioning his child

“It’s Mister Vista’s”

“Is that so?” he says, glancing up at the Moby Dick, spotting said man along with the commanders and Whitebeard himself leaning against the railing, watching father and son

Whitebeard’s gaze slowly falls upon Mihawk.

“You’ve got yourself a handful there, Hawkeye. But I must say, it’s good to see someone capable of putting the past behind them; such is the innocence of childhood.”

“Indeed, it is something that I have sworn myself to protect at all cost,” he says, looking back upon his son

“We meet Again, Hawkeye,” Vista says, grinning at the swordsman

“It seems we do, Vista of the Flower Swords; you have my gratitude for taking care of my son

“It was my pleasure; he is definitely something special, though,” he says with a chuckle

“Let us finish the fight we put on hold the next time we see each other; I anxiously wait to see who will come on top; the promise of that is enough payment for me.”

“Then so it shall be; the next time we encounter, we will let our blades finish what they started,” he said, preparing to return home with his son

“Ah, wait!” He said, flying back to the Moby Dick and gently placing Vista’s hat on his head once again

“Thank you, Mister Vista, thank you, everyone; I hope I can see you again! I had fun!”

“You’ll be seeing me again someday, kid, so make sure you do all you can to get stronger,” he says, lowering the child to the ground, ruffling his hair

“You’re going to make quite a fine pirate someday,” Vista laughs, ruffling the boy’s hair. “now get on back to your father and get some rest; this was a big day for you.”

“And don’t worry, kid, all of you are always welcome on my ship; just make sure next time to board it the proper way and not as a stowaway,” Whitebeard says with a broad smile

“I couldn’t agree more. Don’t be a stranger, kid!” Ace says to the pair as he watches over the kid

“You’re lucky it was us you picked to stow away with, kid; you have nothing to worry about from us,” Marco adds, ruffling Reader’s head

Whitebeard’s gaze falls upon the two once again as they bid their farewells to the kid

Future parts with Uncle shanks? Or Maybe Whitebeard pirates babysitting?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[chiocchi]

If you don't mind answering, why do you ship Tom Riddle and Harry Potter? Besides the whole issue that they are enemies, and the age difference, both characters are heterosexual. It's canonical fact. If it's the dynamic you like... Have you thought about Tomione's ship? They have a lot of potential together. And in the right direction, they would be a couple that could make it in the books.

JDKLJKLFJSDLKFJA This kinda feels like people knocking on your door and trying to get you to believe in their religion. It's pretty funny.

I don't know why are you calling issues to a part of the pairing's appeal lkajdsjfs (And Hermione is Harry's age and they are on the same side too?). And not sure about that canonical fact. Harry can be read as bisexual quite easily and Voldemort|Tom... idk he seems more obsessed with power, immortality, and Harry. But even if that's the case, I don't see why it should matter. We're in fandom after all.

I don't know if I'll be able to convey why I like this ship so much. For starters, I'm really into the unique connection they share. There was a piece of Voldemort's soul inside Harry's; they had a mental link; a whole language they're the only ones to speak (for the most part); Voldemort chose him and marked him; and there's even a prophecy that linked them together. There aren't two people more connected than them. They're soulmates, and the fact that Voldemort didn't intend it and Harry hates it adds another layer of complexity.

But not only that, they're like a broken reflection of each other, which I find fascinating. In his second year, Harry was worried about the similarities between them. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles, they both considered Hogwarts their first real home. I feel like they would have really understood each other in other circumstances. They would have been friends. Because one of their key differences is that Harry found friends and adults that loved him while Tom was probably bullied and, y'know, the whole Dumbledore thing.

Not to mention that Harry would die for everyone whereas Tom would kill everyone. They're insane in their own way. I love their similarities and differences, but more than anything else, I love when they're together. The fanfics and fanarts are awesome.

And the whole thing of being enemies feels quite gay sometimes klafjdlskfja. Harry can't help but think Tom is handsome and, despite everything Voldemort did, Harry wanted to give him one last chance to show remorse. I have no doubt Harry is crazy enough to actually forgive him.

I've thought about Tomione and I've come to the conclusion that I don't like it. pinktom has a really good post about it and I agree with it. Besides, Hermione liked Ron and had something with Krum, and they're nothing like Tom. Just because she's heterosexual doesn't mean she's attracted to any man, y'know? klajdlfkdjs I don't think they would have been a couple in the books, no matter the direction. If it's the dynamic you like, have you thought about Tomarry? More believable, more intense, and a wider range of wholesomeness to fucked up in the fics. It's really interesting. Unless you don't like men being together? Hmm? Suspicious (just kidding. To each their own. So no need to go to other people's asks to try to change their minds :kek:).

Also Harry is my favorite character and he's not replaceable. I kinda don't care about any other character tbh. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[torialefay]

Going back to Chris jorking it lol do you think he tries hard to hold back his moans like covering his face with a pillow or biting down on his blankets or shirt to not be too loud? I feel like he’d be too paranoid of any member walking in on him doing it that. he’d probs lock his door or wait for everyone to be asleep but idk… If you think about it because they all have their own rooms now they have that privacy of being sexually active so I’m not surprised if hes felt so deprived of not being able to do anything when he was sharing a room with the others that he now jacks off like a mad man haha but what are ur thoughts??

i am a proud member of the "chris is extremely vocal in bed" club!!!!

when it comes to ✨jorking✨😭 it though, i would say yes, he still gets a lil vocal, but nothing crazyyyy.

but let's think ab this for a second: that man doesn't wear clothes... like he doesn't wear clothes. not only would he not have anything to bite down on, but he also has free access 24/7. that being said, the other members talk ab him being naked in front of them all the time, so he probs has good... self control? hell idk what to call it. basically, he's probably good at hiding his *tendencies* around others.

but at night, when everyone else is asleep, he jacks off hard. i feel like he actually probably has a really high sex drive. i read a study not too long ago (if i can find it again, i'll link it), where the average amount of times a male in chan's age range got off in a week was between 3-7 times. i'd venture to assume he's on the higher end, except for maybe if he comes home so physically exhausted that he passes tf out.

but as for mental exhaustion??? that man is rubbing one out and calling it a night. a lot of people say that getting off before bed actually helps them fall asleep easier, and we all know christopher is the king of not falling asleep. i'm sure he uses it in rotation as one of his remedies 🤭

but back to being loudddd, he definitely lets out some soft noises and grunts, but he's careful to not be too loud. i really don't think he wants to risk the members hearing him. but like, if he gets reallllly into it, and he IS letting his imagination take him away, i can imagine him letting out a few soft whispers to whoever he's thinking about.

i def think he's a combo of porn, maybe a litttttle smut from time to time, & i do think he lets scenarios play out in his head. i think we'd all be lying if we said chris never fantasizes about stuff stays have said to him. he's just a weak weakkkk man. take this with a grain of salt (i know some people are gonna get mad ab me saying this ab our "wholesome leader"), but he's a horny 26 y/o guy with somewhat loser-like tendencies, a dozen complexes ab his appearance, & getting absolutely zero play... yet people are posting about what they'd do to his "big, hard cock" or how his nose "would feel so delicious to ride on" & you're telling me he isn't getting turned on AT ALL? like nahhhh he definitely thinks ab it sometimes. maybe even ab multiple people doing all of those things to him at once. does he have a little bit of a power/corruption kink too and maybe thinks ab abusing it at times? it's likely he's at least had a few instances of that. or he’s tempted to say the least.

this was all a very long-winded way to say: christopher gets extremely horny, he thinks about/watches all different kinds of things, and he def wants to moan depending on the situation, but he is great at keeping it low.

that's it. that's all i've got.

[threebooksoneplot]

what draws you both to jalice/makes you so feral about them as a ship?

you should know we had an entire meeting in order to answer this ask. no this could NOT have been an email (unlike new moon) 🤭

Secretary G took notes. they are as follows (read the bolded parts for a tl;dr)

we kind of see it as though jalice got the traits that edbella weren’t allowed to have, either due to their status as protagonists or because smeyer's mormon background causes her to view these qualities as too sinful/negative for her wholesome Waiting Until Marriage main couple. (examples: alice's materialistic, "shallow," hyperfeminine qualities, her character flaws (especially her manipulativeness), and jasper's aura and history of fucked up violence closer to what you'd find in traditional vampire stories/horror/adult gothics/books not written by a mormon author)

in terms of how much screentime the non-main-love-triangle canon couples get, their relationship is kiiiinda given the next-most weight to edbella’s (examples: jasper's extreme overprotectiveness, the New Moon chapter 19 moment where alice prioritizes jasper and bella is like “yeah I get it, I would do the same.”) basically smeyer gives jalice's relationship a lot of the qualities she finds romantic/ideal, (and which are either similarly romantic to us or entertainingly toxic/a good source of drama), presumably because alice is like her 4th-favorite character after the main love triangle and she wants nice things for her

we both really love how, superficially, as presented in the books, jasper and alice seem to have this almost “courtly love” that smeyer has described as "spiritual." yet when you look closer, their relationship has so many darker undertones—the deep codependency bordering on obsessiveness (mutual, but especially the way it manifests on jasper's end—"I will kill this random teen girl who witnessed edward's jean valjean moment™ because any means are justifiable when the ends are Protecting Alice"), the dark sides of both of their powers, the idea that jasper is only a cullen and/or only a vegetarian for alice's sake, etc. hell, even the fact that they're the only Cullen couple who we know had (gasp) premarital sex 😏 (I mean we assume rosemmett did too, but alas, they don't have that hilarious "carlisle convinced jasper and alice to get married" quote from smeyer)

partially summarized: "jasper’s general desperate willingness to sell everyone to satan for one corn chip if it keeps alice safe (carlisle: I know this and I love you)"

we're forever smug that the movies gave us even more jalice screentime (especially remarkable in such a protagonist-centric universe), including jasper being in the same grade as alice/bella/edward, and the extra jalice kisses in Eclipse and BD 🥺

what we wrote down as the “who’s protecting whom" phenomenon, as coined by G in this old ask. (shannon: "jasper is the toddler you've given the PS2 controller that's not plugged in")

we also like the characters individually. jasper is for the girlies with competency kinks—a stoic caretaker who speaks little and mostly expresses himself via acts of service. we also both love the way in which he needs protection from his own uncontrolled violence (slipping up and killing humans, suffering the pain and fear he inflicts, etc.) he is, in the words of our beloved @liceparade, the "line cook trauma boyfriend"

“It’s hot when there’s a fictional violent man who wet babygirl 😌” —shannon

and alice, unlike bella, genuinely loves being spoiled and bossing people around. she's brat-coded, she's confident and secure in who she is, her god complex ("I'm close enough [to omniscient]") causes fascinating conflict, bella eats drywall from sheer horniness at her merest movement, she dresses like a slut in the Mormon YA Novels and yet somehow escapes authorial condemnation, she has a sickass gothic heroine backstory, she's "annoying," aro started a whole war over her (eat shit helen of troy 🖕), she spaces out in public and has to be led around by jasper, she's one of the most powerful vampires in the world, she's in high school getting a C+ on her precalc test 💅🏻

it's appealing that smeyer frequently puts alice in the center of the series' various conflicts (james' singer and "one that got away," the accidental cause of all the drama at the end of new moon, one of aro's secret True motives for starting the conflict in BD.) this is mostly as a consequence of smeyer using alice as a plot device and/or deus ex machina, but it is in fact interesting

is alice jasper's morality chain? we love pondering this question via fic, meta, etc (especially because...alice ain't exactly a model of ethical behavior herself)

together, the two of them exhibit lots of classic tropes. they're grumpy x sunshine, chatty x silent, opposites attract, etc. to say nothing of that height difference 🥵

we love the yin/yang symbolism of a character with a horrific past paired with a character with NO memory of her past, who is focused on the future and all about potential. not to invoke an ancient phrase but POETIC CINEMA

the next note just says “POTENTIAL in general.” I assume we meant how all of the above stuff creates potential for interesting stories, conflicts, metas, art, fic, etc

G has brought this up in the past, but we love the irony of jasper, a character whose chief desire is to be left in peace, being soul-alteringly in love with the one character who will always be a giant glaring target through no fault of her own. hilarious

[goodlucktai]

till you can breathe on your own

rise of the tmnt word count: 20k i wrote this fic for the turtle trenches server’s november gift exchange ! my giftee was @acewithapaintbrush and ace’s prompts were “found family, leosagi, wholesome disaster twins, and splinter being a good dad to the boys.” instead of being normal and picking one i decided to create an au that included all of those things at once and this is what i came up with. ace i really hope you enjoy it <3 happy turtle day ! title borrowed from keeping your head up by birdy

read on ao3

x

When Leonardo was eight years old, he and his best friend survived a house fire.

The blaze was put out thanks to a passing yokai with a magic spell for rain newly purchased that she was happy to use to help, but two of the children attending lessons there came up unaccounted for. Panicked neighbors searched for upwards of an hour only to find the boys fast asleep in a cart of clean linens parked out front of the bath house. 

There was a faint trace of mystic energy lingering around them but no one came forward as the one it belonged to, and they wouldn’t be able to explain what had happened. One minute they were trapped and frightened, and the next everything was blue and they were safe. 

Ultimately the rescue was credited to a powerful good samaritan who wished to remain anonymous, and the townsfolk collectively decided to be grateful for the miracle without unraveling it any further.

Leonardo’s friend moved away while his house was repaired, and Leonardo was returned to where he belonged at the local orphanage. He smiled when the matron fussed over him, even though he didn’t feel like smiling, and continued to pretend like he didn’t hear the other kids calling him bad luck.  

“You’d think someone would want him,” one of the older kids whispered during lunch. “Last time we had a turtle here they got snatched up in like a week.”

“Miss Toto says that way of thinking is archaic,” a tiny otter yokai piped up with remarkable authority, given that he clearly didn’t know the meaning of the word he was repeating. “Kameko has as much of a chance as the rest of us do.”

“Clearly,” the older kid muttered. 

Leonardo, who wasn’t Leonardo yet—who was called Kameko by the orphanage matron because she wasn’t especially creative, and Lucky by the other kids so they could be mean in a sneaky, underhanded way, and Stripes by his best friend, who mattered more than any of them—spent a lot of time dreaming of having a chance. 

He had no way of knowing that at the same time, miles away and a city above, an early-middle-aged man run ragged day in and out by three energetic children and sloughing through a persistent sadness was dreaming, too. 

The man was dreaming of his own childhood; a garden with a pond and lines of laundry drying in the late summer sun, a delicious smell sneaking out the kitchen window where jiji was grilling fish for dinner, his mother lifting her head to grace him with a smile he once took for granted. 

In the dream, she had to reach up to hold his face, because he was the same age now as she was when she died and several inches taller than her in adulthood. She didn’t mind his fur or snout or big rounded ears, and if anything the involuntary twitch of his whiskers only made her smile deepen. 

“My sweet boy,” she murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

“How?” he choked out. He clung to her arms. He had a thousand things he wanted to tell her. All that came tripping out was, “How can you be?”

“Because I know how big your heart is,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You love so richly and earnestly. Even after that was taken advantage of and betrayed, you found more room in your heart for your little ones. Your little turtles.”

The thought of his sons pierced through the gloom of self-hatred like an arrow of light, as simple as flipping a switch in a dark room. He wouldn’t trade a moment with them for anything—not even for another moment with his mother. The overwhelming grief and love coexisted as naturally as two little otters holding hands at sea.

“But don’t you know?” she asked. “Can’t you feel it? Did it get lost in that big heart of yours? One of your children is waiting for you.”

He jerked as if electrocuted, going stiff and still beneath his mother’s hands, because she couldn’t mean to say what it sounded like she was saying. 

That tiny fourth turtle with the blue-patterned shell and bright gold eyes—the first one to smile and reach up to be held, the one that had fallen during their frantic escape and was left behind in the crush of the destroyed lab—the one the little shrine in his room belonged to, even though he didn’t have a proper photo, or a decent idea of what Blue would have looked like grown into personhood—the one that a corner of his heart belonged to, even now, even still—

“He’s alive, my darling,” his mother told him. In the dream, she sounded so certain. The clan symbol on her obi seemed to glow, a warm, shining thing that cast all darkness and doubt aside. “Go and bring my grandbaby home, okay?”

Hamato Yoshi woke up with a gasp, half-blinded by tears. 

——

The boys took the news as well as they possibly could have. It would have felt wrong not to tell them—cruel to keep them in the dark, even if it would shelter them from a hope that might only lead into a dead-end. 

They already knew of their fourth sibling, having long-since discovered the little shrine in Splinter’s room during a pre-Christmas snooping several years ago, but there hadn’t been much that Splinter could offer them when they peppered him for information and eventually those eager questions tapered off. They had only had a few months together in Draxum’s lab before Splinter could stage their escape and bring the facility down behind them—before tragedy had carved a hole into their brand-new family—and that wasn’t long enough to have more than a handful of stories to share. To do the baby’s memory anything resembling justice. 

But since waking up from that dream, Splinter had reached out with his ninpo in the way he hadn’t done since he was very young, like stretching out an atrophied limb, and he felt it. A fourth presence in his heart. It was a very faint echo somewhere far away, like an imprint of smoke left in the sky after a firework. Distant now and fading, but once-bright. Once-blue. 

And he knew. He knew Leonardo was alive.

“Red, you are in charge,” Splinter said, jittery with anticipation. He spared a moment to cup the snapper’s cheek in his palm, brushing his thumb over the rosy-colored diamond pattern there, and added, “Aunt June’s phone number is on the fridge if anything happens—but nothing had better happen! April can visit but you are not allowed to leave our home until I return.”

Red nodded several times, twisting his fingers together. He had inherited Splinter’s anxious heart, but he took being the oldest very seriously, and failure more seriously than that, for all that he was only nine. 

“Are you going to get Leo?” Orange piped up, bouncing in place. He had, in fact, not stopped bouncing since he had gleaned the gist of the conversation that began nearly a full hour ago. “Are you going to bring him home?”

“I am going to try,” Splinter said, kneeling so that he could poke his youngest baby playfully in those ticklish spots on his sides that always elicited a sunny giggle. 

Orange trilled in glee, and then he pulled his limbs and head into his tiny shell the way he often did when he was overexcited or overwhelmed and continued making turtle noises to himself from inside there. 

Splinter caught the talkative box shell before it could clatter to the floor and offered it to Red, who held it to his front the way he hugged his stuffies. 

“Okay my sweet boys,” Splinter said, “stay here and be good and I will see you in a short while.”

Purple trailed him to the front door, or what served as such in their repurposed underground home. After tugging on his coat and boots, Splinter turned to him and crouched down so they were at something approaching eye-level, even if eye contact did not seem to be on the table this morning. 

“You said we hatched at the same time,” Purple surprised the hell out of him by saying. His recalcitrant softshell son very rarely spoke aloud unless asked a direct question, and here he was volunteering whole sentences without preamble. “You said he came out of his egg right after me. He had stripes, and eyes like mine. You called us twins.”

Leonardo was not a forbidden topic in their home, but he was a bit of a sore one. It ached to press on the bruise that was their missing part. Purple in particular had a difficult time making himself understood and being understood in turn. He was also incredibly stubborn, and hard to match wits with. 

A twin must have sounded like a dream. Splinter wondered when Donatello had first shaped this little wish out of clay, and how often he spent taking it out and admiring it, wearing the rough edges into smoothness, giving it substance and character until all that was missing was the life. The color. 

“He was not the same species of turtle as you,” Splinter said. “But you did hatch together, and you did have the same eyes. Blue would fuss at bedtime until I placed him on your shell. You tried to take chunks out of the alchemist’s fingers whenever he parted the two of you.” For tests, he didn’t feel it was necessary to add. He offered his hands, and added, “So that is what I called you. My twin babies.” 

After a moment, Purple took his hands. His mouth was a firm line, golden eyes glued to the floor. There was enough of a wet shine in them that Splinter’s heart strained with the need to right every wrong for him at once. 

“I will find him, Donatello,” Splinter said. “Now that I know he is out there waiting to be found, there is nothing that can stop me. It might take a long time, but we have waited quite a while already, haven’t we?”

Purple nodded, and then stepped forward to bury his snout in the front of Splinter’s coat. It meant that a hug would be not only tolerated but appreciated, and Splinter didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his little boy. 

“Go on now,” Splinter said, only when Purple had extracted himself. He turned the child around by the shoulders and propelled him back to where Orange and Red were waiting. “I love you, little monsters,” he called loud enough to be heard by all three of them. “If the lair is still standing when I get home, you will get ice cream.”

Their noisy cheers followed him down the tunnel, warming him more effectively than direct sunlight ever could.  

And now Splinter was back in the Hidden City, although he had sworn to himself he would never return. 

His heart was racing, every nerve a livewire, so prepared he was for danger around each corner. He had hoped that the mad alchemist died in the destruction of the lab—had comforted himself with the fact, even, on those nights he woke up from bad dreams—but with Blue’s miraculous survival, Draxum might very well have lived too. Like a cockroach. 

And so he was hesitant to trace his steps back to the ruins of Draxum’s lab. He was not even sure if he would be able to find it. There was a restless, dislocated thing inside of him that made standing still a painful exercise, he so badly wanted to run and run until he found the little turtle he was looking for—he just didn’t know where to go. Where to start. The Hidden City was larger than he remembered.

“Excuse me,” someone said, startling him. He turned to find a short beetle yokai in a rumpled button down shirt and slacks standing just behind him, mandibles clicking idly. The beetle smiled and said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but notice you seemed lost. Can I help in any way?”

It was Splinter’s first instinct to deny the apparent kindness. Lena—or Big Mama as she was called—had carved out the remains of his idealism as deftly as a gardener pulling up the last stubborn weed in a flower bed. People, he had been taught, were rarely kind for no reason. 

But April’s mother was a force of nature in her own right, and had bullied Splinter into friendship with her within a week of their children meeting. A New Yorker to her core, June O’Neil had only needed a moment to adjust to the sight of a mutant rat and three mutant turtles, at which point any lingering strangeness was overshadowed by the relief of finally having another single parent to commiserate with. She was on-call for every scare, every tantrum that left Splinter feeling out of his depth, every milestone. She refused to allow him to wallow in self-pity while he had three little boys to raise. 

June was the sole reason that there were a few shoots of hope growing in the ruin Lena left of him, stubborn and resilient and flowering. People were rarely kind for no reason, but rarely did not mean never. There was goodness to be found if one took the time to look for it. The risk did not always pay off, but the reward when it did was worthwhile every time. 

And so Splinter took his heart in his hands and faced the stranger and said, “Yes, please. If you’re able. I need help.”

The beetle yokai, a friendly, down-to-earth character named Cricket, listened to the bare bones of Splinter’s story and immediately began to guide him down the street. It was a street that would not have looked out of place in Osaka in the 80s. There were storefronts with neon signs and restaurants with enticing noren doors and the steady foot traffic of thousands of yokai milling about their day. No one paid a tall rat mutant any mind. 

“You’ll want the Chamber of Decisions,” Cricket said with a certainty that settled one small inch of the chaos in Splinter’s heart. “There will be someone there who can help you find your son.”

The beetle yokai took time enough out of his own day to show Splinter all the way through a startlingly mundane municipal building to a floor with a placard on the wall declaring it the Civil Courts. He even waited in line with Splinter, making pleasant conversation, until it was his turn to step forward and address the employee behind the front desk.

“Goodbye,” Cricket said at that point, stepping away. “And good luck!”

He was gone before Splinter could thank him, and the gazelle yokai behind the desk repeated, “Next,” in a tone that suggested she would be deeply unhappy to say it a third time. 

“Yes,” Splinter said quickly, “sorry, that’s me.”

“What is your name?” the yokai asked briskly. She had long spiraling horns and a long, narrow face, deceptively delicate. She wore a badge on a lanyard around her neck that read Helena, Court Clerk, and then a mess of characters beneath it that did not look like English or Japanese. 

“Hamato Yoshi,” Splinter replied by rote. When he spoke, a small crystal hovering unobtrusively above the desk glowed a clear spring green. It seemed to indicate his truthfulness, because the yokai didn’t request any further proof of identity. 

“Hamato?” the yokai, presumably Helena, said with a spark of interest. She read something from the text that populated on the holographic tablet in front of her and then added, “We have a backlog of forms here for you. It has been a long time since someone has claimed tenancy of your clan’s branch house in Neo Edo. I assume that’s why you’re here?”

“Uh,” Splinter said intelligently, “no. What?”

“The Hamato Estate,” Helena said. She seemed less than impressed with him. “The one that has been sitting in disrepair and bringing property values of the neighborhood down for more than a century. That has nothing to do with your visit today?” 

The Chamber of Decisions was very human in structure, and the bureaucracy was completely disarming. Splinter didn’t know what he showed up expecting to find here but he sort of felt as though he was walking through a lucid dream.

“Sorry, no, I—I was unaware my family had any dealings in the Hidden Cities at all. I was raised in Japan. In—a human city in Japan. And now my children and I live in New York.” 

Helena’s expression cleared with understanding, her attitude suddenly more helpful as she seemed to realize Splinter was not being willfully obtuse. She opened a drawer of the filing cabinet beside her desk and rifled through it until she came up with form after form that accumulated in an intimidating heap. 

Splinter bit the inside of his mouth so that he wouldn’t say something unfortunate. He was catching up to himself, the surprise and uncertainty of the situation he had found himself in fading into the background, his single-minded focus sharpening into a point once again. 

Blue had waited long enough to be found. It was deeply unfair to make him wait even a moment more. And unfair to Splinter, too, who just wanted to be given a direction that he could run in until he could scoop his son up and never let him go again. 

“Excuse me,” Splinter said, wrestling with himself until a semblance of good manners won its cage match with snarling impatience, “but I am here because I was told you might help me locate a missing child.” 

The gazelle’s head jerked up, hooved hands stilling. “What missing child?”

For the second time that day, Splinter explained his situation to a stranger. Not the whole thing; not the nature of his or his sons’ mutations, or the desperate life-or-death struggle that preceded their flight from the destroyed lab into the nearby city—this city—and then ultimately New York. But the gist of it. The fire, and the baby who fell from his arms, and the long years he has spent mourning a son he thought had died. That much he imparted as succinctly as he knew how. 

Helena punctuated his story with clipped nods, listening intently. She sifted through the stacked bundles of paperwork and withdrew two or three that she placed on the top of the pile. 

“We will register you and your children as citizens of the Hidden Cities,” she said firmly when Splinter had finished detailing the dream that led him to believe his son was alive. “Your clan has already been established here for centuries, so this will not take long. As a citizen you will have the full weight and reach of this court’s resources behind you. We will locate your son.” 

If there had been a chair behind him, Splinter would have collapsed into it. As it is, he only swayed on his feet for a moment, before mustering a hoarse, “Thank you.”

After the dream of his mother, Splinter had been feeling acutely guilty of the way he had left his family name well behind him, crafting a new identity for a new life in America. Now he was only grateful that Lena and that lunatic Draxum would not think twice about a rat mutant named Hamato Yoshi, or his children.

It felt surreal to write down their names—Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo. For so long, they had been only his precious joys. The human world was not one he could trust to appreciate them. The O’Neils were a shining exception, one in a million. So his little family was kept a well-guarded secret. 

And now here he was, signing an official document that gave his turtles another place to belong, a place that could not be taken away by a mad alchemist or scheming spider. 

“If you come with me, I can take you to the appropriate department,” Helena said, cordial and efficient as she placed the last of the paperwork in a folder that glowed a friendly green before disappearing into fragments of light that spelled out ‘FILED.’ “It’s lucky you came when you did. We have a witch on retainer, and we would have called her in for this, but she’s already working from the office today.”

“Right,” Splinter said, smoothing down his shirt with nervous fingers. 

He didn’t know what his expression was doing, but it seemed to give the gazelle yokai a sense of urgency. She hustled him down a couple of halls and through more than one doorway that seemed to lead to another building entirely, until he was hopelessly lost somewhere in the depths of the administration.

But the office he finally stepped into was one that wouldn’t have looked place in any of the high rise buildings in FiDi, with an executive desk of solid wood, a neat row of filing cabinets, a less neat wall of overflowing shelves, and sparse, impersonal decor. There were a few oddities—self-watering hanging plants suspended in front of the window, and a glowing crystal levitating above the desk where a computer might have sat otherwise—but nothing that made Splinter’s animal hindbrain balk at the door. 

The young woman sitting behind the desk looked up and smiled, round brown face dimpled and kind. Half of her voluminous braided hair was piled on top of her head in a neat bun, while the rest framed her shoulders in interchanging plaits of black and mint green. Her long, pointed ears were pierced a dozen times each and dripping in tiny precious gemstones. 

“Hello there, Helena and friend,” she greeted. “Can I help you?”

“Nimue, this is Hamato-san. He recently had a prophetic dream that a child he lost in infancy is, in fact, alive,” Helena replied promptly. “We’ll need a spell for finding.”

It sounded actually insane when put so plainly, but she spoke in a way that reminded Splinter of his former account manager, no-nonsense and judicious. The young lady behind the desk took them both seriously and stood, brushing her braids back over her shoulder.

“I’ll start at once,” Nimue said. “It’ll only take a few minutes.” 

“Summon me if you need anything else,” Helena said briskly. “I’ll be finalizing the documentation up front.” 

Both yokai and witch were very perfunctory about the whole thing, as if it was business as usual. It went a long way in disarming that last kernel of doubt that Splinter had harbored every step of the way here.

With the doubt uprooted, there was space at last for painful, smothered hope to burst into full and violent bloom. 

He was shuffled into the adjoining room and into a squashy loveseat. This area seemed much more like a witch’s workshop; there were tricky, delicate glass instruments whirring away under their own power at a carved wooden table in the corner, and stacks of heavy leather volumes on all the shelves and flat surfaces, interspersed with jars of things like feathers and stones and shiny beetle shells. Dried herbs and flowers dangled in neat bundles from a rack on the ceiling, where motes of something too colorful to be dust floated in wandering circles. There was a small furry animal curled up to sleep on the arm rest of the chair opposite Splinter’s, light brown with a darker brown band across its eyes. When it lifted its head at the sound of the door closing, Splinter realized it was a ferret. 

“Please excuse the mess,” Nimue said, “I’m really not here that often so I tend not to prioritize organization. I know it’s a sad excuse.”

“I’m a single father parenting thr—four boys,” Splinter replied, heart skipping a beat at the self-correction. He would be parenting four. “The last thing I am qualified to judge anyone on is tidiness.” 

Nimue laughed. “I’ll take it! Now, I told Helena this would only be a moment, and I meant every word. There are lots of disclaimers and policies I could bog you down with, and probably ought to, but I know they’ll just go in one ear and out the other. You’re here to find your son, and that’s what I’m going to help you do.”

“Yes,” Splinter breathed. “Please.”

“Of course! A spell for finding is one of my favorites, not in the least because it’s super simple.” 

Nimue sat across from him, lifted the ferret off the arm of her chair and into her lap, and then held out both her hands. Splinter took them without second-guessing it. 

“Magic draws so much from nature,” the witch went on. As she spoke, various pieces of glass or crystal in the room began to glow, as if her voice contained a brilliance that could be caught and reflected back. “In our spells, we use plants, stones, animal shed—things given by the earth—and sometimes energy generated by a storm or the sea. A friend that I graduated university with channels power from lightning. Very flashy, but very hard to pin down.”

A pool of light formed between them, beneath their joined hands. It was flat and still, like the surface of calm water. Four little jewels in bright candy colors shone through—red, orange and purple clustered together, and blue clear on the other end. Splinter’s heart ached; he knew them. He knew them. 

“At its core, it’s orderly,” Nimue said, her voice calm and smiling. “The most powerful rituals I know of are tied to star charts or phases of the moon, because even celestial bodies follow a pattern. Magic wants to make right. It wants to return things. And so a spell like this costs absolutely nothing. A lost child belongs with their family; that’s as fundamental a thing as gravity.”

She let go of Splinter’s hands and turned her own to catch the pool of light in the cup of her palms. She closed her hands together, as if compressing something as tight as possible between them, and then with a sudden jerking motion, flung them up and open. 

The light spread between them in a translucent, shimmering curtain. It looked like a chart, or a map, though not one Splinter had any hope of reading.  

Nimue hummed in what could either be surprise or delight, her smile showing teeth. 

“Oh, look at how clear and bright they are,” she cooed, “shining like stars. You must be so proud. And here’s little boy blue,” she added, pointing out the lonely light living by itself, isolated from the others. “He’s in Sawara Town, not too far from here.” 

Splinter’s heart was a frantic drum inside his chest. He wasn’t sure if he’d taken a single full, deep breath since he woke up from that dream that brought him to this moment in the first place. He twitched with the urge to scoop those colorful, twinkling little lights out of the rest and hold them close, hold them safe. 

“So what now?” he managed to choke out. “Are you going to teleport me there or something?”

Nimue laughed again, scritching the ferret’s ruff with the tips of her fingers. 

“Teleport? I’m good but I’m not that good! I’ll call you a cab.”

Not even two full hours later, Splinter was walking up the main street of Sawara. It was a bustling rural town with a mighty canal for a heart, filled with wooden fishing boats and framed by thin wisps of willow trees. Machiya-style houses rambled along in tight rows on either side of the waterway, most of them with front doors and shutters slid open to display shop spaces. 

Splinter stopped at a dry goods store to ask for directions to the orphanage, and the storeowner pointed him toward the sprawling estate at the edge of town, tucked into the natural bend of the river. 

He was floating in that dream feeling again. Everything was two inches left of reality. He was half-prepared to discover that this day felt impossible because it was impossible and he should have known better than to believe it could be this easy. He was half-prepared for someone to yank the curtain back and reveal the wizard was just some guy running a long con the whole time. Splinter had always, always been the punchline of a bad joke. 

But he promised the boys he would find their brother. He thought of Purple’s eyes, wide with hope, and his quiet voice saying, “You called us twins.” He thought of that sweet baby he had only briefly been anything like a father to, the first of the four to smile at him, the first one to want to be held by him. 

Resolve filled every chamber of his heart until it overflowed from there and filled the rest of him for good measure. That floating, dreaming feeling scattered into painful cognizance. 

He was Lou Jitsu. He was Hamato Atsuko’s only son. If life had taught him anything, it was how to take a punch. He would follow this road to wherever it led, and if Blue was not at the end of it, then he would find another road to follow. He would walk forever if he had to. He would let his heart get broken a hundred thousand times. 

Splinter let himself through the gate and strode up the meandering path toward the front of the house. He wondered if he ought to announce himself, and then discovered a doorbell half-hidden beneath the leaves of a drooping hanging plant. He rang it, and squared his shoulders, and waited. 

After about a minute, the door slid open to reveal a harried-looking pangolin yokai with a squirming raccoon child in her arms. It was a scene immediately familiar to Splinter as a pre-naptime battle of wills. 

“Oh, hello,” the pangolin said, offering a smile as she managed not to drop the uncooperative toddler with a deftness that spoke of years of experience. “My name is Tomomi, I’m the matron here. How can I help you?”

“Hello,” Splinter replied, returning her bow automatically. He realized suddenly that he probably should have been practicing what he would say in this moment, because he was coming up blank. “Ah, my name is Hamato Yoshi, and I’m—I’m, uh—I’m here for my kid.” 

Nailed it. 

“You may need to be slightly more specific than that,” the matron said, bemused. 

“Right,” Splinter said. Specifics. He could do specifics. “I had a dream. And then there was a whole thing with a witch and a finding spell. Uh, I have documentation? That the court clerk sent with me?” 

Tomomi maneuvered the child into one arm and reached for the papers Splinter offered with her freed hand, all of them stamped with Helena’s imposing seal. As she read, her eyebrows made a shocked jump toward her scaly hairline. 

Splinter’s heart fluttered madly. His chest felt like a cage full of restless birds. 

“My son was lost to me when he was a baby, and I believed that he was dead. Something happened recently that—that revealed him to me. It showed me that he was still alive. If he’s here, I—I want him. I have always wanted him. He has three brothers who have been missing him, too. He has never,” Splinter faltered, and had to swallow twice before he could go on, “he has never been unwanted, not even for a single day.”

“Oh, my spirits,” Tomomi murmured, crouching to let the little raccoon yokai slide free and then dart victoriously away. She straightened again, a hand pressed flat to her chest as she passed the papers back, perfectly stunned. “If he’s here, and he’s yours, I’ll help you however I can. What can you tell me about him?”

Splinter said, “He’s—he’s a little turtle. Eight years old. His shell is—just, one moment.” 

With shaking hands, he crammed the documents into his jacket pocket and withdrew his phone instead. His pictures weren’t sorted into albums, because 99.99% of them were all pictures of his children or April, rendering any attempt to sort them entirely redundant. That did mean he had to swipe for a moment before he found a decent photo of Orange’s carapace, and the warm yellow pattern of his scutes. 

“His shell pattern would be very similar to his brother’s, you see? And his eyes were this color,” Splinter went on, swiping to a picture of Purple glaring resolutely away from the camera, golden eyes distinctive even when narrowed and averted behind thick prescription glasses. “He was—he was very sweet. Very talkative. He wanted to be held all hours of the day. He—”

“He’s here, Hamato-san,” Tomomi blurted, eyes huge. 

“He’s… oh.” Splinter stared back at her, phone still extended dumbly in his hand. He felt frozen in place. A gust of wind would probably have been enough to knock him clear over. “He’s here?”

The matron seemed to be in disbelief herself, staring at Splinter as though he was a figment of her imagination and if she moved too suddenly he might disappear. 

“I can’t believe it. After all this time.” Then she shook her head, and wrapped professionalism back around her shoulders like a trusty cloak. She said, “Please come with me to my office, I’ll have Kameko brought to us there.” 

Kameko. Turtle child. Splinter didn’t know how he felt about that name, but kept it to himself. He was minutes—minutes— away now. If he absolutely had to go crashing through every single wall in this building one by one to find his child, that was entirely within his power. He would save that as the nuclear option, but not remove it from the table entirely. 

“He really is the sweetest thing,” Tomomi said. “No trouble at all, helpful as can be. Incredibly smart for his age—he’s leagues ahead of his classmates.” 

Like his brothers, Splinter thought, with a sort of dazed, wondering pride. All of them were happy little boys with distinct, dynamic personalities, but June—who had been a parent for one whole year longer than Splinter and had the added experience of helping to keep a dozen nieces and nephews alive, and was therefore the expert between the two of them—had often expressed surprise at how quickly the turtles tore through their learning material. 

Donatello was an unstoppable force that had yet to encounter an immovable object, but Raphael and Michelangelo were both well ahead of the curve, too. Splinter wondered, sometimes, if that had been part of Draxum’s design for them. 

“The younger kids adore him, though the older ones ostracize him a bit,” Tomomi was saying. “He’s had a number of failed placements, I’m afraid. Just bad luck.” She winced, as though the word left a bad taste on her tongue, and hurried to add, “It’s been hard on him since his friend moved away. He really deserves this. You’ll see.”

She was clearly trying to upsell the kid, as if to preemptively change Splinter’s mind about giving him up. As if there was any force in the universe that could even dream of being strong enough to compel him to do that. 

The orphanage as they walked through it was noisy. Kids in clothes that were second-hand but clean and well-fitting chased each other down hallways and in and out of rooms at speed. The building itself showed the inevitable wear and tear that came of hordes of children putting their marks on the place, but it was not dirty, or drafty, or in any sort of disrepair. No one looked hurt or underfed. There was a comfortable amount of clutter, plush toys and books and electronics scattered about the den they passed by. In all corners of the house there was shrieking and laughter and the thunder of little running feet. 

Yoshi was feeling a hundred thousand things right now, all of them in immediate conflict with each other and jostling for first place, but relief was chief among them. He had, in a shadowy corner in the back of his mind, feared the worst upon hearing his child was living in an orphanage. At a glance, the bulk of those fears were dispelled. It was good to know that he probably would not have to raze this place to the ground for their poor treatment of Blue. He could not imagine that would endear him to Helena. 

Tomomi leaned into an open doorway and called out, “Ren, please find Kameko and have him meet me in my office, okay? It’s important that he comes quickly.”

“Okay, Miss Toto!” someone called back, and then a tiny otter yokai went zipping away.

“I don’t know all of his hiding spots, I’m afraid,” the matron murmured, opening another door further down the hall and inviting him inside. “I don’t want to take you on a wild goose chase and waste a second more of your time. You’ve waited long enough already.”

“Thank you,” Splinter said. He sank into the seat she offered him and twisted his fingers, a nervous tic that his eldest son had inherited from him directly. “You said—he’s ostracized by the older kids? Why?”

Tomomi moved around the office, preparing cups of tea with hot water from an electric kettle. She said, “Yokai are very superstitious, as you well know.” Splinter did not know, actually, but nodded to maintain the ruse that he had been a rat yokai his entire life. “Turtles are viewed as—well, lucky. But since every single one of Kameko’s placements failed for some reason or another, some of the children decided he must be an omen for bad luck instead of good. It’s silliness, Hamato-san. But as much as he claimed it never bothered him, I’m sure it must have.”

Splinter had to take a moment to absorb that. Blue was a miracle. The fact that he was alive at all—the Hamato clan in its entirety must have spent every scrap of its allotted good fortune for the next billion year

Bad luck, he thought with a bewildered scoff. Where?

He held the teacup between his hands but forgot what to do with it. He was doing his best to listen to Tomomi but all of his attention craned toward the door instead. Riveted to each pair of footsteps that thundered past, each bright, energetic voice, each unfamiliar spark of qi… 

Splinter stopped breathing a second before a knock sounded on the doorframe. 

“Miss Toto,” a young voice called. “Renren said you wanted to see me?”

Tomomi glanced at Splinter sidelong and then called back, “Come on in, sweetie. There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

He was unaware of moving, but somehow Splinter turned in time to watch the door rattle open, and there he was. 

In a neat coral pink and cream-colored jinbei, knees dirty from playing outside. Not quite grown into his stripes yet, still huge bright red crescents that took up most of his face. Eyes the same color as Donatello’s, the same shape as Splinter’s. Alive. Healthy. Small for his age. The brightest thing in this little riverside town. 

Leonardo. Blue. 

A painfully dislocated piece of Splinter’s long-broken heart clicked neatly back into place.  

The boy blinked and then smiled widely. He was all at once perfectly charming, happy to be standing there. Tomomi smiled back at him like a knee-jerk reaction and ushered him inside. 

“Hi!” Blue said brightly. “Nice to meet you!” 

Splinter could only sit there and take him in. His smile. The sound of his voice. He was so alive. 

“Kameko, this is Hamato Yoshi-san,” Tomomi said, steering the turtle closer to Splinter’s seat. “He’s come all the way from the human world to find you.” 

Blue’s smile faltered for a split-second, giving away his confusion. He had probably been fed a lot of lines from people looking to adopt a lucky turtle into their family over the last eight years, but this one was brand new. 

It was hard to explain to his little face that he had been—left behind. That Splinter had spent the entirety of his life mourning him. That looking at him was like looking at a ghost. Splinter did the best he could, grateful that Tomomi stepped in to pick things up wherever he faltered. With her help, he didn’t make an entire mess of the conversation.

“I have brothers?” was the first question Blue asked when they had finished. “I really do?”

“Yes, you—here, you can look,” Splinter said clumsily, offering his phone again. Offering anything. 

The turtle looked up into his face, and then over at Tomomi, and only took it after their combined reassurances. He was hesitant with the device even then, as though half-expecting Splinter to change his mind and berate him for handling it at all. 

But when the camera roll came up, Blue’s breath hitched, and all his uncertainty blew clean away. He blew up one of the photos and swiped through them that way, full-screen snapshots of a life he had missed out on. He stared intently at each picture as though doing his best to memorize each one in as much time as he was allowed to look. 

“What,” he started to ask, and then darted a quick glance up at Splinter again. Splinter nodded, heart in his throat, and Blue dared to continue, “What are they like?”

Carefully, Splinter shifted closer, until he and his son were side by side. Reaching around him, Splinter said, “Raphael is your biggest brother, and a year older than you. He may appear spiky and imposing, but he is actually very sensitive, and fond of stuffed animals and Barbie movies. I call him Red because of his rosy diamond patterns.” 

Blue mouthed ‘Raphael,’ drinking him in. 

The next few pictures were a blurred mess, Splinter’s attempt at taking photos while managing chaos as his boys helped in the kitchen the morning of April’s tenth birthday. Finally he landed on a clear one of Orange, covered in a dusting of flour, a comically large mixing bowl of funfetti cake batter in his arms that he had insisted he could handle without help. 

“This is Michelangelo. He is the youngest, only seven now. He is silly and spirited and will probably take over the world one day. We’ll all be better off with him in charge, I think. He would work all day long to win a single smile from someone he loves. Can you guess what his nickname is?”

Blue traced his little brother’s sunny spots with his eyes, overwhelmed. Still he guessed correctly, a soft-spoken, “Orange.” 

“Yes,” Splinter said. “Our crazy Mikan.” 

“Then this is—” Blue said, swiping on his own to a picture of the only remaining sibling. “Purple?” 

“Mm. Donatello. He is about a minute older than you, if that. He is smarter than any one hundred people put together, and creates spectacular things out of scraps and discards. But he struggles to make himself understood, so often opts out of talking at all. It does not mean he does not have anything to say.” 

This final photo rattled Blue completely, because there was an obvious likeness there. Donatello’s striking eyes were a mirror image of Leonardo’s own. There was no argument to be had about it—they were related. 

Remembering Purple’s burdened little hope, Splinter can’t help but add, “I once made the comment to him that the two of you could be twins, because you hatched together, and you were inseparable for every moment after. Donatello has latched onto the idea. And because of who he is as a person, I’m pretty sure he will die on that hill.”

Tomomi looked politely confused by the slang, but Blue huffed out an involuntary laugh, which was Splinter’s goal in the first place. 

“What’s, um,” Blue asked, “my name? Those ones—they all match. They’re artists. We talked about them in class once. Did I—did I match, too?”

“You did,” Splinter replied at once, trying to sound completely normal about the question. “I named you Leonardo. You were fearless, you wanted to see everything, you wanted to be everyone’s friend. Nothing could slow you down.” He reached out, telegraphing every inch of the move as he made it, and cradled that precious striped face in one careful hand. “My little lion. My Baby Blue.”

Leonardo didn’t cry, though it looked like he would like to. He reached up and seized Splinter’s wrist in both hands instead, clinging with the disproportionate strength Splinter was used to from raising his brothers. The four turtles were meant to be weapons, genetically altered to that end, but Splinter had taken one look at the freshly mutated babies and instantly resolved that he would secure a normal life for them if it was the last thing he ever did.  

He felt every inch of that resolve rekindled in this moment. He would do anything. He would topple a hundred laboratories, fight a thousand warrior alchemists, survive a million rounds in the Battle Nexus. If that was what it took to keep his Blue, to bring him home. He would do all of that in a heartbeat. 

“Well,” Tomomi said, unselfconscious about the tears she was blotting away, “let’s just get a few things signed away, and Kame—ah, Leonardo can start the first day of his new life! Sweetie, how about you go and get your things packed? You can say goodbye to your friends, too.” 

Blue pressed his cheek more firmly into Splinter’s palm, not wanting to go. Not wanting to test the limits of this strange, perfect dream. Splinter understood completely, and would prefer that his second-youngest child never left his sight again. 

But he didn’t want Blue to be afraid. He didn’t want to teach him fear.

So Splinter packed away his own anxieties and said, “Why don’t you hold onto my phone for me? It seems I will have my hands full with paperwork. It would be a lot of help.”

“Okay,” the little turtle said, reluctantly drawing away. He kept the phone in a tight grip. “I’m a good helper. And a quick packer! I’ll be right back!” 

“Don’t forget to say goodbye!” Tomomi called after him, but she was only talking to an empty doorway, the door itself left open and Leonardo’s running footsteps already halfway down the hall. “I wish I could bottle up some of that energy and keep it for a rainy day,” she said lightheartedly, getting up to close the door herself.

“I know what you mean,” Splinter said, fully sincere.  

“We really don’t have a lot for you to sign here, since the Chamber has already processed the lion’s share of the paperwork, and he’s rightfully yours to begin with,” Tomomi explained. “I just need you to hear a few things.” 

Splinter nodded, giving her his complete, undivided attention for the first time since he arrived. She didn’t seem to know what to do with it, flustered as she shuffled through a drawer of file folders.

“Ka—Leonardo,” Tomomi corrected herself again ruefully, “has had a rather hard time. I’ll give you a copy of his file, since he’ll pop back in here at any moment, and I hate to discuss it in front of him, but it’s important for you to fully understand. He’s been handed a lot of disappointments in his life. Please be patient. It might take him a long time to really trust you.”

“Then it’s a good thing we have the rest of our lives,” Splinter said firmly. “Blue could be a crazy man-eating alien for all I care—but if he’s going to terrorize humans, he can do it at home.”

The pangolin yokai laughed. “I’ll quote you on that. I also wanted you to be aware that we had a bit of a scare recently. He used to go into town to practice kendo every evening. A few nights ago, some of the other students decided to run around and cause trouble by the hearth,” her curt tone made it clear what she thought about that, “and started a fire that consumed the house. Leonardo was one of two children trapped inside.” 

“A fire?” Splinter parroted, halfway out of his seat in a second. He thought of the densely populated town down the way, the rows of houses he had passed that were all made of wood and straw and rice paper. Houses that would go up like tinder with a single misplaced spark. 

His baby, in a burning house. 

“He was rescued, and only sustained some minor burns and smoke sickness,” Tomomi was quick to reassure. “We had the boys both seen by a healer first thing. I’m letting you know because I would want to know, and Leonardo is unlikely to mention it at all.”

For a moment, Splinter could only imagine the horrifying what-if scenario; what if Leonardo hadn’t been rescued? What if Splinter’s dream had come a day too late? What if they had discovered Leonardo had been alive and that they had already lost him a second time? What if they had never discovered him at all, and he had died as a child that everyone believed nobody wanted?

Yoshi, he could almost hear his mother scolding him, clear as day, what good does it do you to think about that? It did not happen. Life is happening now. You will miss it if you don’t pay attention. 

“Yes,” he said belatedly, bobbing his head. “Right. Anything at all you feel is important, please tell me.”

They only had ten or so minutes to talk before Blue came back at top speed. Along the way he had collected that little otter yokai, as well as a fluffy owl in a pink yukata and a lizard whose green scales shimmered into a dull yellow as Splinter watched. 

“Koko’s leaving again?” the lizard demanded. “Is Ren gonna get that whole room to himself now? That’s not fair.”

“Shut up,” the owl said to her sharply, then turned to ask, “Is he really leaving, Miss Toto?”

“I’m afraid so, Susumu,” the matron said. “Have you all said your goodbyes, darlings?”

The question caused the otter child to burst into tears instantly. Leonardo was quick to drop his bag, shove Splinter’s phone into the pocket of his shorts, and scoop his little foster sibling’s face up in his hands. 

“Renren, don’t cry! How am I supposed to be brave if the bravest person I know is crying, huh?”

“I’m not crying,” the otter sobbed miserably, “I’m just, just so happy for you!”

“Great, I won’t even have to miss you, because Ren’s gonna keep repeating every single stupid thing he’s ever heard you say,” the owl complained, but she put her winged arms around them both and squeezed. “Bye, Koko. I hope these are your people for real this time.”

“Thanks, Suzy,” Blue replied, bonking their heads together lightly. “Take care of yourself or I’ll haunt your dreams!”

“Haunt your dreams,” Ren parroted thickly. 

“And if you see Snowy—” Blue added in a quieter voice. 

“I’ll tell him everything, don’t worry,” Susumu said, and hefted Ren away with her when she stepped back into the hall. 

That left the lizard girl, who looked as though she wanted to shrivel into a tiny bug and disappear through the floorboards with the attention of everyone else focused on her. Shoulders hunched, she whacked Leonardo in the shins with her long tail. 

“I think you should start biting people,” she announced.

“Niji,” Tomomi said warningly. 

The lizard lifted her chin, scales shifting from yellow to defiant red. “I mean it. If this new dad is mean just bite the hell out of him. Then he’ll send you back here and no one else will want you and we can age out of the system together and go start a gang.”

“Niji!” 

“Deal,” Blue said, and they shook on it. It was precious. 

Later, when all goodbyes had been made and Blue had been cried on by the pangolin matron and it was finally just the two of them making the journey back into town, Blue looked up at Splinter and said, “I won’t really bite you, Hamato-san. I just wanted to make Niji feel better. She tries to sound mean but she worries a lot.” 

“You have my full permission to take a bite out of any grown-up who tries to hurt you in any way,” Splinter said, smiling at him. He was carrying his child’s bag over his shoulder with one hand, the other clutched tight in both of Blue’s. “And you can call me whatever makes you comfortable, but Hamato-san is a little stuffy, don’t you think? If you don’t want to try ‘dad,’ how about Splinter?”

“Splinter?” Leonardo bounced on his feet. “Is that a code-name? Do you have a secret identity?”

The walk was long, but it went by quickly, peppered by question after question once Blue seemed to realize Splinter did not mind answering them. 

Where do you live? Have you always lived there? What’s California like? What’s New York City like? Do you know lots of humans? Are they nice? Who’s April? Will my brothers like me? 

Splinter answered, and explained, and reassured. Mostly, he listened to Blue’s animated voice that did its best to fill any empty space it found. Blue was not the jaded, angry child that Splinter himself once was, even if he had just as much—if not more—reason to be. But he was not a naïve boy, either. Hope had been all but trained out of him by now, the way it had clearly been trained out of Niji back at the orphanage. It was still there, clinging on with the tips of its fingers, but only just. 

And when Splinter tilted his head back and laughed at the clever joke Blue came up with on the spot, he saw that fragile little hope peeking out at him in the form of a crooked smile, shy and earnest and daring. 

Afternoon had given way to evening by the time they arrived at the edge of town where the cab was waiting. The driver, a skeleton yokai, was a local, and seemed happy to idle there and let the meter run since it was on the City’s dime. 

He glanced up from his sudoku book when Splinter and Blue approached and belted out, “Well, look who it is! Hey, kiddo!” 

“Hi Benny!” Blue shouted back. “¿Cómo estás?”

“Estoy bien, niño. And you’re doing just fine, too, huh? Guess I won’t be giving you many rides anymore. Hopefully this one sticks.”

Despite his flippant tone, the last remark was clearly aimed at Splinter. Splinter, for his part, held his son’s hand a little tighter and tried not to let the implications sting. Blue was so used to being shuttled back and forth that he was on first-name basis with the guy doing the shuttling. Blue had a reputation in this town as being an unwanted, oft-returned orphan. 

Splinter was simultaneously offended by anyone who would deem his precious child an unworthy addition, and endlessly grateful he had not been snatched up before his family had a chance to claim him. 

“This one,” Splinter said, flinty, “will stick.”

The driver muttered something in Spanish that made Blue muffle giggles behind his hand, and Splinter magnanimously decided to ignore that. The two grown-ups affected a playful antagonism for the duration of the hour and a half car ride, bantering back and forth, because anything that made Blue forget himself enough to lean forward against his seatbelt and fill the cab with chatter was worth doing. 

Benny did not let them go after dropping them off until Splinter agreed to bring the children to visit Benny’s cousin’s restaurant in Neo Edo sometime soon. Only then did he lower a bony hand out the driver’s side window so that Blue could bounce forward and bump their fists together.

“Nos vemos, chiquito,” the skeleton cabbie said fondly. “Have a good life, got it? We’ll have problems if you don’t.” 

He pointed warningly at Splinter, letting him know exactly who the problems would be had with.  

“See you, Benny!” Leonardo said. His eyes were wet, but he did not let his bright smile slip an inch. Splinter had worked with professional actors less talented than this nine year old boy. “I’ll be good, promise!”

“You are already good,” Splinter couldn’t help but interject, brushing a hand over the crown of the little turtle’s head. “That’s quite enough of that. Let’s be happy instead.” 

——

Raphael’s initial impression of his newest little brother was that he was very brave. 

He was tiny, not much bigger than Mikey, with bright yellow stripes on his arms and legs, and two big red ones on his face that curved over his cheeks and eyes. Pops carried him into the lair when he first brought Leonardo home, because the tunnels that wound to and around their house were dark and maze-like. Sometimes Raphie got lost in them if he strayed too far and he’d lived there forever. 

Raph remembered thinking how small Leo was, in a huge, confusing place, surrounded by people he had never met before. It would have been overwhelming for anybody, but he didn’t cry at all. He smiled instead, big and silly, like there was nothing in his whole life he needed to be scared of, actually. 

As Raph got to know him, he realized that Leo very rarely wasn’t smiling. 

He was even smiling a little bit as he poked his head through Raphie’s doorway in the middle of the night.  

“Hi,” Leo whispered, even though he could tell Raph was awake. 

He was doing that thing he always did, greeting first and then hanging back to make sure he was welcome. He never just walked into a room or jumped into a conversation. Raph probably wouldn’t have noticed Leo did that if he hadn’t heard Aunt Junie and Pops talking about it a few days ago. 

Raph wiped his eyes on his blanket quickly and tried to sound like he hadn’t been crying. 

“Hi, Leo. C’mere.”

The smaller turtle crossed the room at a run, climbing up into the bed and under the offered comforter. Raph pulled it up over both their heads when he was settled. The dark, warm space beneath the blanket felt the way Raph imagined the inside of his shell would feel if he could hide there. He squeezed Lamby until she glowed from the star on her belly and laid her between them so they had just enough light to see each other by. 

It was a familiar ritual for Raph. It was what he always did for Mikey and Donnie when they sought him out after bedtime. 

“Are you okay?” Leo asked in his quietest voice. 

“I’m okay,” Raph assured him quickly, feeling stupid about the tacky feeling on his cheeks and his puffy eyes. “Don’t worry about Raph.” When Leo’s brow wrinkled, not comprehending why he shouldn’t worry if he felt like it, Raph quickly said, “What about you, buddy? Why are you up?”

He had definitely been asleep when Raph had peeked in on him and Donnie earlier, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. Leo only seemed to sleep for a couple hours at a time. He always dragged his feet at bedtime, as though a good night’s rest was a concept that applied to other turtles, but not to him. If he didn’t share a room with his twin, it would probably be impossible to convince him to go to bed at all. Raph wasn’t looking forward to the contest of wills they’d probably have every single evening once Leo’s bedroom was finished.  

‘Miss Toto says I’m a night owl,’ Leo had announced at breakfast during his first week at home when Pops asked him how he slept. ‘I don’t know what kind of turtle that is.’ 

Mikey giggled, and Donnie said, ‘It’s not a kind of turtle, it’s an idiom.’

Overly-offended, Leo squawked, ‘You can’t just call people idioms!’

The conversation got so silly from there that Pops forgot about asking in the first place. Leo was really good at making people forget they asked questions. But that just made Raph hold onto his questions really tight until he got an answer. Even if it didn’t really matter—he didn’t want Leo thinking he could get away with sneaking around it when it did matter. 

His little brother’s eyes were big and dark in the blanket cave. Sure enough, he didn’t try to weasel out of answering. 

“Sometimes I lived in places where I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I got used to it.” 

“Why couldn’t you?” Raph asked, frowning. 

“In one house it was really noisy,” Leo said easily enough. “The badger family that lived there was crepuscular. That meant they mostly were awake before the sun came out. Just a little bit of noise is enough to wake me up, so I started being crepuscular , too. Only kendo practice and all of my school classes were in the daytime, so it didn’t work out.” 

To Raph, that sounded a lot like Leo wasn’t able to sleep at night and didn’t have time to sleep during the day. He can feel anger stirring deep in his heart, because it wasn’t fair. That badger family got to have Raph’s brother when he should have been here, and they didn’t even take care of him. How hard could it have been to give one little turtle a quiet place to rest? Pops found a quiet place for four of them in New York City.  

He reached around Leo to lay a hand flat on his carapace. The scutes there were hard and smooth, unlike Donnie’s spiny, leathery shell and Raph’s rough spiky one. It was slightly flatter than Mikey’s domed shape, but otherwise entirely familiar. And it was second-nature to rub in slow up-and-down motions, because that’s just what you did with little turtle shells when the little turtles inside couldn’t sleep. 

Leo blinked a couple times, all fast and surprised, as if he’d never had a shell-rub before in his life. Raph hoped that wasn’t true. 

“Why are you up?” Leo asked, never one to be waylaid for long. 

Fair was fair. Raph felt embarrassed about it, but since Leo had answered his question, he said truthfully, “I had a bad dream.”

He was maybe a little bit prepared for Leo to laugh or make fun or—something. But Leo said, “Sorry, Raphie. Bad dreams are the worst. Do you want to talk about it, or talk about something else?”

It sounded very practiced, like he had either said it a lot or heard it a lot before tonight. But it still loosened a tight little fist deep in Raph’s chest somewhere that was clutching really hard to worry. 

Carefully, each word picking its tentative way out, Raphie described the dream he’d had the best he could. It had already faded from memory for the most part. The definite edges were gone and all that was left was the nightmare soup—the dark room and his pounding heart and the loneliness that was big enough to eat him whole if it wanted to. 

“I dreamed I didn’t have anybody,” he mumbled out. “I was all alone. It felt like I’d be alone forever.”

“I had one like that before,” Leo said quietly. “I ran all the way to Snowy’s house to make sure he was there. He let me in through his window and we had a sleepover. Why didn’t you have a sleepover with Donnie or Mikey? You wouldn’t even get in trouble for leaving the house like I did since they’re just right down the hall.” 

“I’m the biggest,” Raph said, the truth of his life that had always been and always would be. “I’m responsible for you bozos. I look after you three, not the other way around.” 

He made sure Leo knew it wasn’t a bad thing, poking him playfully on the end of his beak until he scrunched it up. It wasn’t a bad thing. It was the best thing about being Raph. 

“All by yourself?” Leo asked. “Everybody needs help. Even Jupiter Jim has a sidekick.”

Ever since his siblings had shown him those movies, Leo was a big fan. And it was hard to argue his logic, because Red Fox was a character they all loved beyond reason, and Raph would never dream of saying Jupiter Jim didn’t need her. 

But it was different. 

Raph knew that he could be bossy. He didn’t mean to be. Sometimes it took Donnie crossing his arms and baring his teeth to make Raph realize he’d been nagging. Sometimes he didn’t know until Mikey started shouting that Raph had been talking over him. He really didn’t mean to. 

He just hated not knowing what was going to happen. Every accident and surprise—Donnie wandering out of his room for bandaids when his latest build managed to cut past his gloves, Mikey’s experimental stir fry setting off the smoke alarms, Pops juggling too many things at once and dropping something that shattered on the floor—made Raph feel sick. It made him feel unsafe. 

“I just want to be careful,” Raph managed to force out. “That’s all. I don’t want anything bad to happen. I don’t want it to be my fault. I don’t want to mess up and let you guys down. I don’t wanna be—”

Alone. 

Leo nodded solemnly, his cheek pressed against the pillow. Eyes all big and serious and older than the face they peered out of. 

“You’re the best big brother I’ve ever met,” he said, sounding so certain that Raph was a second too slow to doubt him. “You care so much. You care enough for a hundred turtles. I didn’t know anybody could have a heart that big.”

Raph blinked, feeling fresh tears sting his eyes and slide down his face. Donnie would have frozen in distress, like the whole world stopped spinning when one of his siblings was hurting and Donnie stopped spinning right along with it. Mikey would have jumped in for a sticky octopus-style hug, because there was nothing broken that he couldn’t fix by wrapping his arms around it and holding on tight. 

Leo didn’t freeze and he didn’t jump in. He landed somewhere in the middle of those extremes, shuffling closer and putting his problem-solving face on. He tugged on a corner of the sheets beneath them until enough of the blanket came up that he could use it to wipe Raph’s face free of tears. He did everything so earnestly, as if each tiny moment meant the world to him.  

“But guess what?” he went on. “Everybody cares about you that much, too. I can’t even think of something you could do that would make us not want to see you every single day. If you were ever alone it’d only be ‘cause you got lost, and then we’d just burn the whole city down to find you again. We’d never leave you behind.” 

Leo smiled, not the big shining one. This one was different, lopsided and sweet. Raph had only seen this smile of Leo’s a handful of times and it was already so important to him. 

“You know that in your heart, I think,” Leo said. “You just get stuck in your head, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Raph whispered, feeling wobbly and see-through. 

“It’s okay, Raphie. I can remind you. Just give half of what you’re worried about to me and we’ll share it. I’m on your team! I’m your sidekick! Nothing’s as scary when you have backup. As long as I’m here you don’t have to be scared of anything.” 

Raph’s words got stuck in his throat. He had no idea what he might have said if they hadn’t. Instead he pulled Leo in snug against his plastron, safe beneath his arm. Lamby ended up smushed between them and her glow turned off. Leo wasn’t afraid of the dark, so it was for Raphie’s sake when he worked the stuffed animal free and squeezed the light in her middle back on. 

Maybe Raph cared enough for a hundred turtles, but Leo was brave enough for a thousand. He wasn’t afraid of anything. 

“Deal. And as long as I’m here,” Raph said, “you can sleep.”

“Raphie, I told you,” Leo complained. “I’m a night-owl-badger-turtle. Can I just play Professor Layton on your DS? I’ll be really quiet.”

But Raph knew all the tricks. He put his hand back on that slim shell and scritched idly along the blue-patterned scutes. Leo’s eyes drooped almost immediately, though his big frown was slower to fade. He was so small and so stubborn and Raphael loved him completely.

“Everything you wanna do tomorrow will still be there when you wake up,” he said, borrowing those words straight from Pops, as well as the fond tone he said them in. His own bad dream was the last thing on his mind. It was easy to smile and add on, “You can sleep. Raph’s not gonna let anyone bother you. I’m on your team, too.”

Leo didn’t reply right away. He leaned back enough to look up at Raph as though he was waiting for him to take it back. When he didn’t, because of course he didn’t, Leo curled his arm tighter around Lamby and tucked his head back under Raph’s chin and didn’t say anything at all. 

Raphael imagined what it would have been like to grow up together—having Leo’s certainty and cleverness in his corner when Raph didn’t know what to do, Leo’s courage and silliness when Raph was scared, Leo’s smile that made the darkness shrink no matter how big and impossible it seemed to be at first. 

Imagining it made Raph’s heart ache. He thought about the future instead, and how they’d live in it together forever, and keep each other safe and make each other brave.

When Leo finally dozed off, Raph was only a few minutes behind him. He didn’t have any more bad dreams.

——

Sometimes Mikey felt like he had to shout to be heard. 

Raph and Donnie were his big brothers, and they were also his best friends and secret-keepers and partners-in-crime, but Mikey was their little brother first. He just wished that wasn’t the only thing he was. 

Donnie liked Mikey’s company and never kicked him out of his room, but Mikey wasn’t allowed to touch anything in there, because Donnie didn’t know how to share. Raphie loved to carry Mikey when he got tired or the stormwater runoff in the tunnels was steep, but he didn’t seem to understand that sometimes Mikey didn’t want to be carried. He could walk just fine on his own! He could outrun all of his siblings, actually, without even breaking a sweat. 

Michelangelo knew that he was loved—he had never wasted a single second wondering about that—and he loved his family so much that he could fill the sky with it the way the sun filled it with light in the summertime. 

But he wasn’t listened to. It would be nice to just be listened to sometimes. 

Today Mikey watched avidly as Leo showed off his cool sword. He had been folded into their afternoon martial arts training seamlessly, like he’d always been there. Dad assessed his skill-level and announced that he was not very far behind the rest of them at all, because he had been training in something he called kenjutsu ever since he was little. 

“You are little, pipsqueak,” Raphie said playfully.

“Everyone’s a pipsqueak to you!” Leo retorted.

Splinter smiled proudly and said, “My Blue. You’ll be unstoppable one day, you know that?” Leo radiated joy at Dad’s approval and threw himself headlong into learning ninjutsu alongside his kendo, eager to do well. So he split his time, and in the last half Leo broke away from his brothers to the other side of the dojo, where he practiced the sword. 

He hadn’t brought much with him when he moved in, but his bokken was his pride and joy. It was made of shiny red wood and the handle was wrapped in bright blue cord and there was a little white rabbit charm dangling from the guard. 

“Last year Snowy’s big sister snuck up to the human world for a senior trip with her friends, and she brought us both souvenirs when she came back,” Leo had explained the charm happily. “Like hush money, only bunny-shaped! So way better.”

Dad snorted, and Leo seemed to grow two inches taller at having made him laugh. 

Unlike everything else he owned, Leonardo didn’t offer the sword out to be held or touched. It wasn’t quite like the way Donnie guarded the things important to him, because Mikey didn’t think Leo would hiss at anybody for getting too close—Leo probably wouldn’t even get mad. But at seven whole years old, Mikey knew a thing or two about hurt feelings. If Leo wasn’t willing to snap at somebody for taking his stuff, Mikey would just have to do it for him. 

An hour into training, Mikey was about to snap for a different reason. 

“Mikey, you’re doing it wrong,” Raph said again. “You keep going too fast.” 

“I know, ” Mikey said back through his teeth. He’d done it a billion times, he knew that. Raph didn’t need to keep saying it. 

“If you know, then do it the right way,” his biggest brother replied, not giving an inch. “I know cartwheels are fun but we’re doing kata now. You can play later.”

Frustration boiled inside him. Mikey knew the right way to do the forms, but he was bored. He wanted to do it faster, he wanted to add a flip or a handstand, something to make it more interesting. He didn’t like training at all sometimes—Donnie was quiet and unenthusiastic, and Raphie was bossy and made them start over until they got it right. It was better when April was there, because April could quell the boringest and bossiest of brothers with a single sharp look and then take Mikey out for froyo, but their sister only joined in on the weekends. 

Leo glanced sidelong at Splinter as he slowly began to lean his bokken up against the wall. When Dad didn’t stop him, he put the sword down quicker, then trotted over to fearlessly interject himself into the middle of the brewing storm. Donnie watched him go with round eyes, always one to remain adamantly on the outside of any confrontation.  

“That was really cool, Mike,” Leo called out, beaming. 

Mikey, who had been clenching his fists and preparing himself for another big brother to gang up on him, blinked. 

“Huh? Really?”

“Yeah, really! I can kind of do a handstand, but I can’t flip all around like that.” He thumped his knuckles on Raph’s carapace as he passed by, but his shining smile was all for Mikey. “Can you teach me?”

“Really?” Mikey said again, and then excitement swooped in before he could be confused for longer than a second. Bouncing on his toes, he exclaimed, “Of course, Lee! I can teach you right now!”

“I still have to learn this tricky ninja stuff first,” Leo said. “Can we do it after training instead?” 

“Sure! I can help you with the kata, too, I’m really good at it,” Mikey said eagerly, falling into line beside him. He demonstrated the proper form carefully, so that his newest big brother could follow along. “Like that, see? You’ll get it! Try with me this time!” 

He didn’t realize he was mimicking the same thing Raphael told him every time he fumbled in the dojo—his mind jumped straight to the first helpful thing he could say and that was it. He also didn’t catch the wink Leo sent at Raph over his head, or the way Raph’s shoulders loosened from where they had been bunched up by his ears, the way they always bunched up before a disagreement. 

When Leo first came home, Aunt Junie had said that they all needed to be patient with each other and give Leo time to adjust. Like when Piebald’s tank water needed to be changed and they had to do it a little bit at a time, because even a whole bunch of good, fresh and clean water would be bad for her all at once. 

Aunt Junie was right about everything, but maybe she just didn’t know Leo well enough yet. Maybe Leo wasn’t like Piebald at all, and jumping straight into a brand new tank was actually the best thing for him. 

Because Leo seemed so happy to be there, always smiling and in a good mood. Teasing Donnie like he knew exactly where to poke to elicit playful snaps instead of vicious ones—talking Raph’s ear off about the Disney movies their big brother watched with him and singing along once he knew the words—forming inside jokes and super-complicated extended handshakes with April within minutes of meeting her—following gamely wherever Mikey tugged him along to like he couldn’t wait to be a part of the fun. 

The immediate problem was that Donnie, Raph and April loved Leo just as much as Mikey did, and they all wanted to spend time with him, too. But they didn’t always want to spend that time doing the same things. That afternoon, it became an issue.  

“Me and Leo always watch a movie after lunch,” Raphie was saying, brow knit stubbornly. 

“Yeah, so let him do something else for a change,” April replied, poking Raph in the shoulder with the corner of her bedazzled phone case. “I told him about Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh and he wanted to read it. I downloaded the audiobook for us to listen to.”

“Can’t you do that later?”

“We’re building something,” Donnie bit out, impatient enough to speak up instead of just slinking away on his own. 

For his part, Mikey tugged on Leo’s sleeve. “Leeeee, color with meeee.”

Leo didn’t say anything to any of them. He seemed to be frozen in place by all their noise.

Once, when Mikey was way littler than he was now, Dad found a baby bird that had been swept through a grate into the tunnel during a heavy rain. He let Mikey hold it after Mikey promised he’d be careful. They emailed a video of the bird to a wildlife rescue person they found online who said that it looked about three weeks old, and had probably only just left the nest when it hurt its wing. It was a quivering palm-sized ball of brown feathers and beady eyes. Mikey could feel its frantic heartbeat in his hands. It didn’t look big enough to have left its nest. It was hard to believe anything that small could just be on its own in the world. 

Right now Leo reminded Mikey of that bird. His smile had faded to almost nothing, eyes round and worried under their bright red stripes. The longer the arguing went on around him the bigger and more worried his eyes got. 

Then Dad said, “ Enough.”

He had his disappointed frown on as he strode in from the kitchen, sleeves still rolled up from washing the dishes in the sink. He didn’t miss a beat in lifting Leo up into his arms.

“What did your Aunt June tell you all?” Dad said sternly. He included April in his pointed look, even though Aunt Junie was mom to her. “If the four of you can learn to share pizza and video games without killing each other, surely you can learn to share your brother’s time.”

They all shuffled, feeling scolded, and April was the one who said, “Sorry, Leon.”

“It’s okay!” Leo said immediately, smiling brightly at her. But he was still clutching Dad’s shirt with both hands and wasn’t squirming to get down even a little bit. It made Mikey feel bad all the way to the bottom of his stomach. 

“Why don’t you let Blue decide what he wants to do this afternoon?” Splinter suggested in that tone that made it obvious it wasn’t actually a suggestion. 

“Yeah, Leo, you should pick!” Mikey said right away. 

Leo hummed, looking much more like his normal self than he did a moment ago, but he still had one fist bunched in Splinter’s sleeve. Very, very carefully, like he was afraid it wasn’t the right thing to say, Leo offered, “Raphie, you said you’d show me how to skate. Can we?”

“Sure, big man, that sounds fun!” Raph said, all fast. He came over and put out his hands, and when Leo reached back, Splinter allowed the snapper to take him. Raph tossed Leo in the air and caught him again, surprising a squeaky noise out of him that became a giggle. The mood in the lair shifted back towards bright, like magic. “You’re gonna be skating circles around me in no time, Fearless.”

“I wanna watch!” Mikey shouted gleefully. And even though Donnie hated sports, he settled next to Mikey to watch, too, close enough that their shoulders bumped. When Mikey swayed playfully to the side, it made Donnie sway, too. 

April rolled her eyes, like it was very typical of one of her little brothers to want to waste the afternoon skateboarding, but she insisted upon getting pictures of Leo all kitted out in borrowed helmet and knee- and elbow-pads, in poses that got sillier and sillier by the second.  

The afternoon raced by like it had somewhere important to be, punctuated by the rolling and click-clacking of skateboard wheels on the wooden ramp. Leo learned to ollie and shuvit, picking up speed and gaining confidence as he went, but he also learned a lesson the rest of his siblings had learned years and years ago. 

He learned to trust Raph’s hands to catch him. He learned not to be scared of falling because Raph would always catch him. 

In no time at all, Leo’s laughter was bursting out of him in bright, ringing peals. It was easy to forget, just for a minute, that he hadn’t been right there with them all along.  

Mikey felt like there was a sun inside him, he was so happy. He didn’t know what to do with all of it, where he could possibly hold it. So he did what he always did when he felt too much. He popped inside his shell. 

From outside, there was an instant clatter and a thud, the fast-rolling sound of a loose skateboard shooting away, and April calling out, “Woah, Leo, are you—”

Then Mikey felt the familiar sensation of being picked up. His shell was compact and the perfect size for other little turtles to hold. Mikey felt warm and snug, and loved to be held, so he just curled up happily like a cat in a box. 

Outside, he heard them talking.

“He didn’t mean to!” Leo said, so fast it was all a jumble of words bumping into themselves. 

“Who didn’t—Mikey?” Raph said. “‘Course he did, he does that all the time.”

“No, he—he’s good, he doesn’t—” Leo sounded alarmingly like he was going to start crying—something Mikey hadn’t even known it was possible for him to do. “Please don’t let him get in trouble, he’s good. He’ll be good.”

“Of course he is good,” Splinter said, his voice coming closer from where he had been keeping an eye on them from the sofa. He sounded the way he did when Mikey or one of his brothers was sick, worry and love all twisted together. “All of my babies are good. Even when they are dissecting kitchen appliances or flooding the bathroom or sneaking the last donut out of the box that I had been saving, April.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” April said unconvincingly. “What’s a donut?”

“Mmm-hm. That crazy little citrus fruit you are holding is not in trouble, Baby Blue,” Splinter added. 

“Why would he be in trouble?” Raph asked, sounding like something was hurting him. 

“Sorry! I had different rules before,” Leo replied. The arms holding Mikey’s shell were tight, and he could hear the heart he was being held against racing, quick and frantic thump-thump-thumps. “I’m really sorry!”

“No one needs to be sorry,” Splinter told him gently. “No one has done anything wrong. And for future reference, in case you are confused, you will never be punished for hiding inside your shell. You are a turtle, and it is an important part of you. Would you scold a caterpillar for spinning a cocoon?”

“No,” Leo whispered. 

“There you are.”

There was a beat of silence, heavy and thick. Mikey wanted to come out and look around but he thought that if he interrupted the conversation they would start to talk about something else. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Leo finally said. “I was only there for a little bit, the house where they—so it wasn’t that bad.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Donnie said in a loud voice. He said it like ‘judge’ meant ‘monster who bites people until they die,’ even though Mikey was pretty sure it didn’t.

It surprised Mikey at first when Donnie started interjecting loudly at things, because he never used to do that. His jokes were always ones slid in under his breath, and his smile when they made Mikey laugh would be quick and sideways and half-hidden in the collar of his bulky hoodie. 

Now he didn’t hide near as much as he used to, and was a lot less secretive about things he wanted his brothers to hear. Mikey thought that maybe he had wanted to be close to them all along, he just didn’t know how to get there. There wasn’t a bridge between where they were at and the island he ended up on. Then his twin came along. 

Aunt Junie called Leo an instigator. She said it laughingly, and told him he was just what this family needed. She was, after all, right about everything. 

“We’ll discuss it later,” Splinter said. He came closer, and Mikey’s stomach swooped as he was lifted up higher from the floor than he already was—Dad must have picked Leo up again, and Leo was still holding Mikey. “Come here, my little turtles. Ah-ah, you are not getting out of this, O’Neil. In fact, you must hug twice as hard so that your mother is here in spirit.”

Silliness was the best medicine. No gloomy mood could outlast six people cramming together for a big group hug. Raph tripped on the skateboard and almost toppled everyone over and the sudden lurch made Leo giggle. Mikey came out of his shell to join the embrace, managing to get one arm around Leo and the other around Donnie and squeezing for all he was worth. 

Mikey and his brothers kept close to each other even after Splinter left to take April home. A pillow fort was constructed in the TV room and they turtle-piled in there with all the best blankets and stuffed animals and snacks. Leo was quieter than usual and sat tucked against Donnie’s side, like he was absorbing his twin’s strength and stubbornness since his own had run out. 

“Hey, Leo?” Mikey asked, when the movie Bolt was over and Raph was snoring and Donnie was a tiny ball tucked under the snapper’s sprawled arm. Mikey knew that Leo would still be awake.

Sure enough, Leo said, “Yeah?” 

“Why don’t you cry when you’re sad?”

For a little while, the only sound besides Raph’s honking snores was the song playing on TV as the credits rolled. I made a wish upon a star, I turned around, and there you were, the song went. 

“People don’t like kids who cry,” Leo finally said. “No one will want me if I don’t behave.”

Mikey blinked, turning his head to find Leo’s face in the dark. His heart was twisting around unhappily in his chest. It hurt. 

“Raph cries all the time but we still want him,” Mikey said. “He’s Raph.”

“Yeah, of course,” Leo said quickly.

“And I cry, too,” Mikey added, the hurt moving up into his throat. “People want me.”

“Because you’re the best, Angie,” Leo told him. “You guys are the best.”

“Whoever told you that stuff before lied,” Mikey said, clinging to his hand. “They lied. You’re my Leo, and you belong here, and we want you. Don’t ever leave us no matter what. Okay?”

Leo nodded, short and punchy. He was shivering like he was cold. Mikey scooted over so he could curl into Leo’s side, because he was a lot of things, but he was a little brother first. And sometimes—when that meant that he was always welcome, and arms would always open for him, and he could snuggle in and be held tight no matter what—that was the best first thing to be. 

“Promise?” he checked.

Leo turned his face, so he could press his cheek to the top of Mikey’s head, and whispered, “Promise.”

The thing Mikey remembered the most vividly about that injured bird they once found was how restless it had been. How ready to fly it was. All it needed was room to get better and grow a little more. A safe place to land. 

‘Look at this guy,’ Dad had said the morning they released it, smiling at the eager noises happening in the shoebox in his hands, ‘ready to leave us in the dust.’ 

‘Will he come back?’ Raphie asked.

‘I don’t think so, my dear. This isn’t his home.’

It was Leo’s home, though. His place to come back to. They just had to keep showing him that they’d catch him. It wasn’t scary to fall down here, because someone would always catch him.  

——

A true photographic memory had never been proven, but Donatello was a scientific marvel in more ways than just the obvious. He remembered everything he had ever seen. The farther back his memories went the less clarity they retained, until they were mostly just emotion given body and movement—but they still were.

When Donnie, Mikey and Raphie found the shrine in Papa’s room, and Papa sat them all down to explain that they used to have another brother, who couldn’t be with them anymore, Donnie suddenly remembered a steady weight on his shell. He remembered not being able to settle for bed unless the weight was there, clicking and purring until they both drifted off to sleep. 

Oh, he thought, we’re orphans. 

The thought didn’t make sense, because Donnie knew what the definition of orphan was, and their parent hadn’t died. He had never abandoned them. He was, at that moment, gently wiping tears off Raphie’s face and trying to come up with answers for Mikey’s endless questions that didn’t all boil down to life is unfair. 

But it was the only word that felt weighty enough for the truth of it all. 

Donnie was a brother who had lost a brother. A twin who wasn’t a twin anymore. There wasn’t a word for that. He looked it up. 

And then, when Donnie was eight years old, he didn’t need a word for it anymore. 

When he had imagined Leonardo growing up, he imagined someone who was just like him in every way. Someone who understood him effortlessly because they were two halves of a whole. Ten minutes after meeting him again, Donatello felt silly about his initial hypothesis. 

Of course his twin would be his polar opposite—they filled in each other’s empty spaces. Leonardo, who was friendly and talkative, spoke up when Donnie’s voice failed him; Donatello, who was observant and defiant, had no trouble baring his teeth at every hurt that Leonardo would have let roll off his back. 

Leonardo lied with every inch of his body and he did it cheerfully; Donnie would always default to the truth even if a lie would have been kinder. Donnie wanted so badly to be close to his brothers but didn’t always know how to get there, a closed door standing between them that he didn’t have a key to; Leonardo had never met a locked door he couldn’t circumvent and pointed out a neat shortcut here, a handy window there. 

Leo took Donnie’s hand and led the way forward; Donnie held on tight and made sure Leo didn’t stumble, since he was always looking up and never down. 

They found each other in the middle. Maybe if they’d had that middle place all along, Donnie would be able to communicate better, and Leo wouldn’t need to pretend so much. Maybe that’s still the way things would be one day. Donnie imagined a drawing of them, purple leaking past his lines and blue leaking out of Leo, like Mikey’s watercolors mixing on the page, spreading until they filled every gap, completing the picture.

All four turtles were in the dojo, doing cool-down stretches. Mikey had skipped the post-exercise routine and moved on to rolling around on his carapace instead, singing Fireflies to himself with twice as much energy as Owl City. Raph just rolled his eyes and made sure to step around and over his littlest brother as he cleaned up. 

Splinter, who had been checking his phone repeatedly all afternoon, stood up swiftly and said, “You boys stay here and finish up. I think we’ll order in for supper today, so agree on something or I will order the worst soup you can think of. ”

Mikey stopped rolling and sat up with a horrified gasp, because he had opinions about soup. 

“Manhattan Clam Chowder!” 

Ignoring that, Splinter said, “I will be right back.”

Donnie watched Leo watch him go, and knew that his twin’s mind was racing even though his breezy smile hadn’t budged an inch. Leo worried constantly, maybe even more than Raphie did. He was always buzzing with what-ifs, like his brain was a jar filled with angry bees—what if he did something wrong? What if he made someone mad? What if he was too noisy, took too much at supper, didn’t help enough with chores, what if, what if, what if? 

Donnie knew, because sometimes Leo told him. After bedtime, when they had to whisper so Splinter’s keen ears wouldn’t catch them staying up late, sometimes Leo would ask, “Did I mess up today?” 

And Donnie would have to jerk his thoughts onto this new track—this crooked, narrow road that Leo was always running on, with its confusing roundabouts and bridges to nowhere and unpayable tolls. 

He wanted to say that Leo could mess up a billion times and still never reach the end of Donnie’s love. Like how the unobservable universe was so big that light from the Big Bang still hadn’t reached Earth from over there. It was as big as that. 

But Donnie struggled with words even when they weren’t monumentally important ones. And Leo’s face would look so afraid in the dim light of the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling, those constellations in Leo’s new room that matched the ones in Donnie’s down to the last star. He would be convinced that this was the day he did something bad enough that Papa sent him away. It didn’t matter that that would never happen, because even impossible things could be scary.  

So instead of what he wanted to say, Donnie would tell him, “You were good.” 

It would always make his brother smile and sink into the pillow, like all that worry was the only thing propping him up. Then they would talk about a hundred other things until they forgot to whisper, and Papa or Raph inevitably found them out and carted a giggling Leo or an unrepentant Donnie off to his own room. 

One day, Donnie was determined to make it stick. Even if Leonardo was the worst person in the whole world, he would still be Donatello’s person. That made him the best. It was unquantifiable. No one was a better subject matter expert than Donnie was. He’d stake the scientific reputation he didn’t have yet on it in a heartbeat. 

For now, he nudged Leo’s knee with his foot. 

“Hey,” Donnie said, “let’s be ninjas.”

Leo’s smile turned into the grin that Donnie preferred, the crooked laughing one. He only cared about good behavior when he thought he was being graded on it. Otherwise he was the first to encourage sneakiness, because if there was one thing Leonardo believed in, it was having all the information available all the time. 

Donnie knew that was how Leo kept himself safe in those other places he lived in before he came home, those places he didn’t like to talk about. The ones that taught him not to cry when he was sad and not to hide in his shell when he was scared. 

If there was one thing Donatello believed in, it was that Leo should feel safe, even if that meant breaking a rule or two or a hundred. 

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Raphie said suspiciously before they’d made it more than two steps. “Pops said to stay here.”

“Or else we’ll get gross soup,” Mikey piped up. “Instead of really good soup, like creamy chicken chili. Or minestrone!”

“Angie, it’s too hot outside for soup,” Leo said patiently, verbally dodge-rolling Raph’s question by humoring Mikey. “If we ordered a bunch of soup the delivery person would cry. You don’t want taco salad in a tortilla bowl? Or an Italian hero with extra pickled cherry peppers?”

Reminded of the whole wide world of food delivery possibilities, Mikey started rattling off all of his favorite meals without pausing for inconsequential things like air. Raph sighed, because it instantly became twenty times harder to agree on supper. Leo beamed up at him, like he didn’t just do that on purpose.

Donnie knew an opening when he saw one and slipped out of the dojo first, following the sound of Splinter’s voice to the front of the lair. 

“...haven’t told him you were coming. I did not want to give him a reason to be anxious all day,” Papa was saying, sounding anxious himself. “He’s so prone to worry, it just eats him up. I thought once you arrived, I would go back in and let him know you were here, and we’d—get it rolling fast, get him all swept up, so he didn’t have a chance to be afraid.”

“Dad knows best,” an unfamiliar voice said kindly. 

It made Donnie’s spine go straight, all of his attention sharpening to a point at this sudden proof of a stranger in his home talking about his twin. He inched forward on silent feet to peer around the corner. 

A big creature stood with Splinter, a few inches taller than him and covered from nose to tail in large overlapping scales. She had a curved spine that created a hunched-forward posture and a long narrow head similar to an anteater’s. With the big tote bag hanging off her arm and the green sundress she was wearing, she looked like an animal librarian straight out of one of Mikey’s chapter books. 

She didn’t seem dangerous. But Donatello watched her with narrowed eyes and wished he hadn’t left his bo behind in the dojo. 

“As for moving,” Splinter was saying, “I am still uncertain. My boys would be able to—to go to school, and make friends, and play in the sun. That would mean the world to me. But the house in Neo Edo needs a lot of work, and the Hidden Cities are dangerous, too. For a multitude of reasons.” 

“And you have family here in New York, as well,” the stranger said, her tone understanding. “It is a lot to consider. You haven’t brought up the possibility to the children yet?”

“I haven’t. Blue’s life has been in upheaval enough as it is. I wanted him to have more of a chance to get settled. Besides, it is not a decision that needs to be made right away. We can discuss it as a family and decide together.”

“Of course, Hamato-san,” the stranger said warmly. “These follow-up assessments are mandatory, and, I’ll admit, an excuse for me to visit with my little ones again. But there isn’t a doubt in my mind that you’re doing right by him.” 

Donnie let go of his suspicion just long enough to wonder about the possibility of moving away from New York City. He wouldn’t want to be apart from April and Aunt June for any extra amount of time. But it sounded like he would be able to go to school in that Neo Edo place and he would like that a lot. 

“Here I am,” Leo’s voice said in a whisper as he stepped up beside Donnie. He was holding his bokken across his shoulder, probably because he wouldn’t have had a chance to store it properly and come listen in on Papa’s conversation without Raphie catching him again. “What’d I miss?”

But he was already looking around the corner for himself, and that smiling expression he was wearing changed in a heartbeat to something pale and shocked. His arms fell to his sides. 

“Miss Toto? Why is she here?”

His voice was too loud. Both adults glanced over at where Donnie and Leo were standing, and Donnie felt caught. But Leo took a couple quick steps closer, dragging his sword behind him like he didn’t care at all that the shiny finish might get scuffed on the concrete. 

Papa looked pale himself somehow. “Blue—”

“Am I going back?” Leo said, getting louder. “Are you giving me back? Why? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” the stranger said, hands clutched tight in front of her chest. Her eyes were wide. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“No, you said!” Leo shouted at Splinter. “You said, you said you wouldn’t, you said I could stay, you said I was good! I was good, I was! I did everything I’m supposed to!” 

“Baby, I would never send you away, ” Splinter said, arms open to scoop him up, but Leo stumbled backwards out of reach. Leo couldn’t hear him or anybody else, heaving in frantic gulping breaths. 

The sword in his hand started to glow, as if a light had turned on inside it and was shining through patterns carved up and down its length, even though the whole thing was solid wood and didn’t have any carvings a light could shine out of. The shine got brighter and bluer until Donnie had to squeeze his eyes closed against the glare. 

When he opened them again Leo was gone, but the light was left right where he’d been standing—a perfect circle cut out of thin air, the color of the sky in summertime. It was humming, the way things with an electrical charge hummed, and spinning as playfully as a pinwheel.

“Oh, my spirits,” Miss Toto breathed. 

“Did he just,” Splinter croaked out. 

Of course, Donnie thought, finally solving that big puzzle in the back of his mind.  

Donatello was the first of Leo’s siblings to notice the healed burns on his hands, if the others had noticed them at all. Faint discolorations, smoother than the rest of his textured skin. They didn’t seem to hurt anymore but Donnie worried about them anyway. 

He had gone straight to Splinter with his observations, hovering at the other side of the kitchen table waiting to be acknowledged; but Splinter had been too engrossed in the contents of a folder to notice the round eyes level with the tabletop staring unblinkingly at him, like a fox stalking a bird.

‘Papa,’ he said. Splinter jolted in his seat, slopping tea over the rim of his mug.  

‘Holy—Purple! You will give me a heart attack one day, and then who will feed you?’ He closed the folder and turned his chair, and Donnie trotted around to his side. ‘What’s up, buttercup?’

‘Leo burned his hands,’ Donnie said.  

Splinter’s face did something funny, and he asked quickly, ‘Did he hurt himself just now?’ 

‘No. They were there already. How?’ 

‘Ah. How did it happen?’ he clarified. Donnie nodded, and Splinter weighed his words for a moment before he said, ‘A few days before he came to live with us, the house where Blue took his kendo lessons caught on fire. But someone rescued him—plucked him and his friend right out of danger and left them safe in a basket of clean blankets. We are all very lucky.’ 

Donnie had shivered, and bonked his forehead against Splinter’s arm so his father knew to wrap him up in a tight hug until the shivering stopped. He didn’t want to think about Leo trapped in a fire, so instead he thought about the person who had rescued him. 

‘Who?’ he asked when he could manage it.

‘Who saved them? No one seems to know,’ Splinter said. ‘The boys only remembered a blue light.’ 

Leo saved himself, Donatello realized now. He always saved himself. It was the only thing that made sense. The proof was right in front of them, burning like a star in the living room. 

But now the edges of the circle were wobbling, and then compressing, the whole thing beginning to shrink. A door closing, with his twin on the other side. 

Donatello didn’t need to think about it. He heard a cut-off gasp from the scaly anteater, and Papa yelled “Purple!” but he was already running. He ducked his head to clear the top arc and hopped over the bottom, disappearing neatly through the blue seconds before it dwindled into nothing. 

In just one step, he had gone from the lair under New York to a big open countryside. He’d never seen so much greenery in his life. It was cooler here, and quieter—even with the rush of the river nearby, it was easily half the average decibel level of Manhattan. He could smell fish and sesame oil and salt, a hint of smoke, damp wood—town must have been behind him. Ahead of him, the footpath he was standing on winded away toward the water.

Donnie headed forward. There was a big house up the hill to his left and he could hear other children there. But the door hadn’t taken him to the house. It had led him here, trudging through mud and weeds along the bank, until he rounded the bend and found exactly who he was looking for. 

On the opposite shore, Leo was hiding under a rocky outcrop, where the stones of a towering cliffside formed a secret alcove. Sunken boulders in the water created a natural ford where Donnie could cross and he plunged right in. 

Leo must have heard him coming, but he stayed curled up small. He was crying so hard his face was red and his eyes were squeezed shut, which made Donnie’s eyes sting, too. He hated when his siblings cried. He hated not knowing how to fix it. One day he’d invent a solution for everything that hurt them.

Until then, he’d crawl into this muddy hole, and scratch his knees and palms on the rocks, and put his arms around his twin. It was the right thing to do because it was what Raphie and Mikey would do. It made Leo cry even harder, and that hurt Donnie’s heart more than anything else in his whole life ever had, but he just held on tight.  He’d be one of those stones that the river crashed against. Nothing would move him until he decided to move. 

When Leo quieted into hiccups and wet-sounding sniffles, Donnie thought it was safe enough to let go of him with one hand. He used the other to wipe Leo’s puffy face with the balled-up end of his purple sleeve. 

“Don’t leave again,” Donnie said. “You promised Mikey.”

“I don’t want to,” Leo choked out. “But they—” 

“That anteater wasn’t there to take you away,” Donnie told him matter-of-factly. “Otherwise Papa would have caused a scene. She was just there to visit. It sounds like we have a house around here somewhere, and Papa is thinking about moving. But he hasn’t decided yet. If we did move, you’d come, too.” 

Leo pulled back to stare at him, all dirty and wet and miserable. After a moment, he mumbled, “Miss Toto is a pangolin. Anteaters don’t have scales. You’re dumb.”

“You’re dumb,” Donnie replied, heart lifting like a balloon at Leo sounding more like Leo. “Papa will never let anyone take you away. You don’t have to be good all the time.” His twin’s eyes fell down to look at the muddy stones between them. He didn’t say anything, but Donnie could tell he didn’t believe it yet. So Donnie presented the facts: “Raph is bossy and acts like he’s right even when he’s wrong. Mikey never does what he’s supposed to and makes huge messes with his paints and cries when he gets in trouble. And I’m mean. And I bite. But Papa loves us, even when he says we make him want to tear his hair out. And he loves you.”

“How do you know?” Leo asked, like he’d like to be convinced, but he was still clutching at his old truths instead of this new one. 

“Because I know everything,” Donnie told him plainly. “I’m smarter than you and the older twin so you have to listen to me.” 

Leo made a quiet noise somewhere between crying and laughing. His eyes were gold like Donnie’s. Would that ever stop being amazing? Probably not. Here was Donnie’s other half, the most important part of his heart, back where he belonged. He really was dumb if he thought Donnie was ever going to lose him again.  

They walked hand in hand to the house on the hill, which turned out to be the orphanage where Leo used to live. A few of the kids in the yard gave them strange looks, but Leo didn’t stop to say hi to any of them, which told Donnie everything he needed to know. 

A boy with amphibian features stepped right in their way. He had big protruding eyes and webbed hands and a round, flat head. His mouth stretched from ear to ear when he opened it to call out, “Back already, Lucky?” 

It caused a twitch to pass through Leo’s whole body, not a flinch but not not a flinch, either. He smiled back automatically, and Donnie knew he was about to play along with whatever mean joke was being played on him, because Leo was smart and always knew what the quickest way out of a bad place was. 

But Donnie was smart, too. And he didn’t care about getting out as much as he cared about getting results.

He stopped in his tracks and twisted his head around on his neck in the way that always freaked April out. She said it made him look like an alien from a horror movie, so naturally Donnie practiced it in the mirror a bunch of times. 

He’d never had the chance to use it on anyone else until now. He was pleased with the way it made everyone in the yard stand really still. 

“You know turtles eat frogs, right?” Donnie said. “I heard they taste good with ginger and scallions.”

Heard from his baby brother who had an unhealthy obsession with the Food Network, anyway. 

The frog boy shut right up, his throat ballooning defensively—prey instinct to make himself a more difficult meal. 

“It was nice to see you guys,” Leo said brightly to the terrorized crowd of his former foster siblings, circling behind Donnie and pushing him bodily into the house. Once the door was closed behind them, he added, “They all think you’re an oni now! It was just a nickname, Tello.”

“Good,” Donnie said, smug. “And it’s not just a nickname if you hate it, Nardo.”

Leo took his hand again and led him down the hall. There was a landline phone in the matron’s office that they could use to call Papa. It seemed like a majority of the kids were out of the house, making the most of the sunny day, because they didn’t run into anyone else.

“It’s ‘cause I’m bad luck,” Leo said suddenly. “Turtles—you know, in the stories—they’re good. Since I kept coming back to the orphanage, the older kids started saying it’s ‘cause my luck got messed up. That’s why they call me that.”

“You’re not bad luck,” Donnie said, wishing he’d taken a good bite out of that frog kid after all. “You’re the luckiest thing that ever happened to me and Mikey and Raph and April and Papa and Aunt June. That’s a lot of luck for one turtle and you saved all of it for us. But if you don’t like that name I won’t let anyone call you that anymore.”

Leo hesitated long enough that Donnie knew he was about to do something very brave, like tell the truth, even though a lie would be safer. 

Sure enough, he said, “I don’t like it.” 

Donnie nodded. He’d make sure their brothers and sister knew, too.  

The door slammed open again behind them. Donnie turned around, ready to pick another fight with another stupid bully and maybe show off his sharp canines this time, but the kid who appeared in the hallway wasn’t one of the ones they’d passed by in the yard. 

It was a white rabbit with long ears tied in a topknot. He had a bokken strapped to his back, glossy black where Leo’s was cherry red, handle wrapped in gray cord instead of blue. The rabbit was completely out of breath, bracing himself with a hand against the wall while his shoulders heaved, and he stared straight at Donnie’s brother like Leo would disappear into thin air if he so much as blinked.

“I saw the blue light and ran all the way here,” he huffed. “Give me your hand.”

Donnie bristled at this stranger telling his twin what to do, but Leo’s face was pure sunshine. He shoved his hand out immediately and the rabbit took it, neither of them bothering with so much as a hello. Uncapping a marker with his teeth, the rabbit scrawled something on the inside of Leo’s palm. 

“This is my new phone number,” he said, not letting go of Leo’s hand even when he was done writing and the marker was put away. “When you didn’t call at our usual time,  Auntie asked if you even knew her number, and I realized you only had the number for our house that burned down. And when I called here, Miss Toto said I’d just missed you. And Suzy said you got adopted for real and went to live in New York and weren’t coming back.” 

His eyes were big and wet and his mouth was wobbling, but he stubbornly wasn’t crying. From this close, Donnie could see the charm dangling from the guard of his wooden sword—a little blue turtle. 

“Don’t ever disappear again, Stripes,” the rabbit said. “We promised to stick together forever.”

“Forever, Snowy,” Leo told him, in his voice that meant he meant it. “I always come back.”

It wasn’t until Donatello and the rabbit were sitting in the den, watching two tiny sheep yokai kill each other for their turn on an ancient Nintendo 64 while Leo used the corded landline in the office, that introductions were made. 

“Who are you?” Donnie demanded bluntly. He’d heard enough about ‘Snowy’ that he could probably write the guy’s biography if he had to, but somehow Leo had never mentioned his best friend’s actual name. 

“Usagi Yuichi,” the rabbit replied. He hesitated, sizing Donatello up, then asked, “Are you his family? His actual one?”

“I’m his twin,” Donnie said, feeling prickly and overprotective. He’d only had Leo for thirty-two days and he would defend his spot in Leo’s life with violence if the situation called for it. “He has a big brother and a little brother at home, too. He doesn’t need any more than that.” So there, he thought. 

To his credit, Yuichi got the gist of Donnie’s bottom line quickly. Instead of any of the reactions Donnie was waiting for, Yuichi wrinkled his nose.

“Yuck, I don’t want to be his brother. I’m going to marry him someday.”

Donnie considered that carefully, and decided it was acceptable. They shook on it then quickly jumped apart when Leo wandered back into the room. He collapsed on the sofa between them with a gusty sigh.  

“I think we’re grounded,” he said. “But everyone was shouting too much for me to be sure. They’re coming to get us now. Splinter said stay in this exact spot and wait for him or he’ll have a conniption. What’s a conniption?”

“It means he’ll cry a lot,” Donnie replied. 

“I don’t know how to get to New York,” Yuichi piped up, frowning. “Nee-chan says it’s really big, too. How am I supposed to visit?”

Leo slid his bokken from his belt and laid it across his lap. There wasn’t a single etching or carving on it anywhere, the glossy lacquered finish completely unbroken. If Donnie hadn’t seen those strange glowing runes for himself earlier, he’d have a hard time believing in them now. 

“When I really need to go somewhere, a door opens,” Leo said. “It happened when your house burned up, Snow. We were trapped inside but I got us out. I’ve never done it on purpose before but I think I could. Maybe.”

“Not by yourself,” Donnie said immediately. He didn’t want Leo to get the wrong idea that his family would let him go traipsing off through magic windows all alone. “Or Papa really will have a conniption.”

Leo smiled down at his hands, that crooked, happy smile. He didn’t say anything, which Donnie knew meant he still didn’t believe it all the way yet, but he would someday. He was too smart not to. 

When Splinter arrived nearly two hours later, Donnie didn’t notice him at first. He and Leo were busy conducting experiments, since they had a magical sword on hand and some time to kill. They had collected a bit of a crowd at that point, Leo’s actual friends clustered around him—including a tiny otter who made it abundantly clear why Leo was a professional Mikey-wrangler within seconds of meeting the kid—as he tried to make his bokken glow again. 

“It’s not gonna work,” Niji said with absolute authority. Her scales were teal for now and she kept hitting Leo’s foot with her tail to be annoying on purpose. “Or it would’ve worked already.”

“Google how many tries it took to invent the lightbulb and get back to me,” Donnie replied without looking up, scribbling notes on the back of an algebra worksheet he stole from a bookbag lying on the floor nearby. The lizard girl hissed at him and he hissed right back. 

“Your brother’s mean,” the tiny otter dangling over Leo’s shoulders said with obvious delight. “He made Midori cry.” 

Midori was, of course, the frog yokai that Donnie had threatened to eat. Word got around quickly it seemed—half the room was keeping a healthy distance from the turtles. Donnie tried not to look smug about it, but he didn’t try very hard. 

“He’s nice to me,” Leo said, squinting in concentration. “I think he only makes bullies cry.”

“Doesn’t Midori make fun of you, Renren?” Yuichi asked, poking the otter’s diamond-shaped nose. 

“Yup!” Ren wriggled happily, getting in everyone’s way, obnoxious and noisy and loved for it. “That’s why Koko’s brother is mean and cool. Next time Midori tries to call me a name, I’ll show him the picture Suzy took of his face all puffed up like a balloon!”

“I shouldn’t encourage this,” the Suzy in question, a fluffy owl named Susumu, said primly. “But Midori is such a jerk. I made like twenty copies of the photo in case Miss Toto finds out.” 

“Then I expect to find twenty copies on my desk before bedtime, young lady,” Miss Toto announced firmly, and a ripple of chaos spread through the room as a dozen kids realized their guardian had come home without warning. Even some of the ones who weren’t actually doing something wrong scattered with the ones who should have been working on chores or homework. 

That’s when Donnie realized Splinter was standing in the doorway, looking like he’d just been watching over them for a little while. 

He waved and said, “Hi, Papa. I found Leo.” 

“Don’t you wave at me,” Splinter snapped. “You are in so much trouble, mister. Jumping face-first into a portal! Who raised you?”

“Is that a trick question? I don’t like those.”

Leo shrugged Ren off his shoulders and stood up fast, shoving both his sword and the otter into Yuichi’s arms. When he faced Splinter, he looked like he wanted to hide inside his shell and live there forever, but he only hunched his shoulders and tucked his chin instead. 

“It was my fault,” he managed to say. “I yelled at you and ran away and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I won’t ever do it again. I’ll be—” 

But by then, Splinter had crossed the room in a few swift strides, and scooped Leo up into his arms the way he’d wanted to back in the lair, and Leo was too startled to speak.

“You can’t just disappear like that, Blue!” Splinter chided fiercely. “Red and Orange are frantic, June keeps forgetting herself and trying to call the police, April just about stormed the Hidden Cities on her own, and I was ready to sell my soul to the nearest witch for another finding spell! It is a whole mess back home!” 

He rubbed his furry cheek on the top of Leo’s head and closed his eyes. It was the closest Donatello had ever seen his father get to tears and it made him feel uneasy. Donnie shoved his notes into Yuichi’s already-full hands and scrambled over to tug at the front of Splinter’s jacket. He was lifted up immediately and Splinter held them both. 

“You are my precious treasures, and I had no idea where you were. Do you have any idea how frightened I was?” Splinter said. 

Donnie watched Leo’s face wobble and scrunch up miserably as he struggled not to cry again. His twin was the only person he’d ever met as stubborn as him.  

“Sorry,” Leo mumbled, “sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Papa’s next breath shuddered out of him. He squeezed them extra tight, and kissed each of their foreheads, and then said, “It’s okay. It’s okay now. We are all going to go home, and have a long talk after this, but it is okay .” He looked right at Leo until Leo nodded slowly. Then he added, “But you’re both grounded until you’re at least thirty! You are never leaving my sight again! If you think I’m joking, you have another thing coming!” 

It was his silly-scolding voice, and it soothed the last of Donnie’s worries. Leo’s worries weren’t gotten rid of so easily, but somehow he managed to have more hope inside him than fear. 

So he was brave enough to lay his head on Splinter’s shoulder and say, “Okay, Papa.” 

That surprised Papa so much he nearly fell over. The tiny yokai children in his path squawked in alarm, and Donatello laughed because the suddenness of the almost-fall made his stomach swoop. 

A moment later, just a second behind, Leonardo laughed, too. 

——

When Leonardo was fourteen years old, he split his time between the yokai world and the human world almost evenly. 

Neo Edo was where their ancestral house was and where they went to school. It was where they had nosey neighbors and block parties and parents night at the junior high, where people recognized Leonardo and his brothers at a glance and collectively referred to them as ‘Yoshi’s boys’.

But there was a part of Leonardo’s heart that belonged to New York City. His portals to the lair always opened up easily, even eagerly, giving the truth of the thing away to anyone who knew what to look for. 

It was home. The first one Leonardo had ever had that he could believe was his to keep. 

“Blue,” Splinter called from the doorway of the living room, pausing on his way through to the kitchen, “what are you doing?” 

Leo, more out of boredom than anything else, was poking Raph in the face while he tried valiantly to read the last chapter of his book, and then looking innocently away every time his big brother leveled a glare at him. 

“Nothing, daddy,” Leo called back in his sweetest voice.

“Orange, what is Blue doing?” Splinter tried next. 

“Invoking the Cain Instinct,” Mikey answered without lifting his eyes from his canvas, three days in on his latest painting and fully in that headspace where time and space didn’t exist and he would only eat if someone physically put a sandwich or something in his free hand. That didn’t stop him from knowing exactly what his brothers were up to at any given point.  

“For what purpose?” Splinter asked.

“Dee went to pick up April from work and the twins are like ninety percent of each other’s impulse control,” Mikey said. “Also Lee is just like that as a person.” 

“That’s true,” Splinter conceded, and stayed to watch the show.  

When Raph finally slammed his book down it was Leo’s cue to gleefully scramble to his feet and run for his life. He shrieked with laughter when he was caught and scooped right off the floor in seconds. 

Raph’s act of revenge was aggressively nuzzling the top of Leo’s head with his cheek, rumbling playful turtle sounds at him that wouldn’t have convinced a single living person that he was actually angry.  

Leo could have hidden in his shell if he wanted to—and no one would yell at him for it, or threaten to crack it open to get him back out, or do anything more than carry it as carefully as they carried Mikey’s until they found a comfy place to put it down—but he didn’t want to. 

Ever since he was a little kid who first crawled under his big brother’s blanket after a nightmare, who first learned to skate while holding onto his big brother’s hands, he knew where he was safe. 

“Is that the sound of Nardo making someone’s life more difficult than it needs to be?” Donnie’s voice rolled drolly from the entrance of the lair. “Note my tone of utter disbelief.”

Leo squirmed around in Raph’s arms until he could free one hand and make a grabby motion toward the sound of his twin. Even if he couldn’t see him, he could smell him, and Donnie had definitely come home with Starbucks. 

“I’m rolling my eyes,” Donnie said, but he crossed the room and put an iced coffee in Leo’s waiting hand anyway. 

“Boys, I got the keys to the roof!” April hollered from the turnstiles. “It’s go-time, baby!”

“What roof?” Splinter asked suspiciously. 

“One that I’m definitely allowed to be at and have keys for,” his honorary daughter replied, lifting her chin. Not even the FBI would be able to crack her. 

Raph set Leo on his feet, then swiped his cup away and took an annoying slurp before Leo managed to snatch it back. 

“You don’t even like coffee!” he complained. 

“Big brother tax,” Raph replied unrepentantly, making his way over to begin the perilous undertaking of extracting Mikey from his creative process without losing a finger. 

“Try not to end up on the news,” Splinter said, knowing when to pick his battles. “April, you are in charge. Red, you are also in charge. Blue, you are in charge in a third and different way.” 

“Can I be in charge of Donnie?” Mikey asked, raising a paint-smeared hand.

“Of course you can, Orange,” their dad said. 

“I’m running away,” Donnie announced to the lair as a whole. 

The familiar noise washed over Leo like sunshine. He totally understood why regular turtles could bask in that stuff for hours. He sipped his latte and drew a gleaming silver katana from over his shoulder, an ancient bunny charm dangling from its bright blue guard. 

Leo smiled up at Splinter as he passed him in the doorway, never missing an opportunity to duck in for a hug. His dad always tucked him under his chin and held him tight, as if he was still that little eight-year-old boy terrified to death of being abandoned. 

“Have fun, my Baby Blue,” Splinter said. “And if you don’t come home with a cheesecake for your poor father, don’t bother coming home at all.” 

Leo snorted and started to laugh, and by then Mikey had had enough lingering around, whining at the top of his lungs, “Come on, Lee, let’s go already! It’s Cannonball Day!”

“Yeah, Fearless, lead the way,” Raph rumbled fondly.

Donnie stood there watching him with steady gold eyes exactly like his own, and said, “We’re all waiting for you.”

Leo grew up in an orphanage, an unwanted bad omen, and now he had two houses and two hometowns. He was one of four brothers and he loved them with a conviction that he hadn’t known existed outside of storybooks when he was a child. He had a shortcut home from anywhere and a family who would fight god to keep him. 

Hamato Leonardo—who was called Koko by his old friends, and Stripes by his best friend, and would always be Blue to his dad—was a very lucky turtle. 

[lady-merian]

@emeraldchase okay, here goes!

I’ve seen a lot of jokes about how the best the Ring can do to tempt Sam is a garden. I’ve laughed at them too, but there’s an element to some of the jokes that dismisses the importance of the scene in my opinion. 

The Ring offers power according not only to a person’s desires, but to their abilities. We can infer from what the Ring offers Sam that Sam would desire to do good with it, (arguably, overthrowing Barad-dur and turning the wasteland of Mordor into a garden is a good desire,) but that doesn’t mean it’s not a dangerous power fantasy in its own way. The desire to remake the world in one’s own image and enforce it by any means necessary is something not even our dear Sam is immune to. He’s not imagining a world where nothing threatens peace, he’s imagining being the threat that enforces the peace. If it takes a flaming sword to bring his order into the world then it takes a flaming sword. The Ring tries to convince him it would give him the power to do so. 

The Ring is, of course, a liar, and it’s a credit to Sam that he realized that after rejecting what the Ring was offering him, but it’s also a credit to Sam that he rejected it in the first place. This is his equivalent to Galadriel’s test. Unlike Galadriel, however, he’s in possession of the Ring at the time the temptation comes upon him and I think that’s saying something. 

Curiously, his reward when he returns to the Shire gives him the wholesome version of these desires, not to mention many more blessings besides.

The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command.

Though Sam as the mayor isn’t a position of great power equal to the great kingdoms of Middle-earth by any stretch, it’s a responsibility. (What that looks like is better seen in the unpublished epilogue to the story, in my opinion.) A responsibility he’s proven himself capable of handling. Likewise with a garden swollen to a realm. The part of the Shire that most benefited from his use of Galadriel’s gift was Hobbiton, it’s true, but he did travel the four farthings of the Shire to mend what harms he could. 

I’m not suggesting that Sam could have become this tyrannical ruler, because Sam hasn’t trained his will to the domination of others and also does not have the innate power that Gandalf and Galadriel both have. (Not to mention Sam is correct that Sauron would have seen him if he’d put the Ring on in Mordor: Frodo put on the Ring at Mount Doom and Sauron was instantly aware.) There are few enough who would survive a direct contest with Sauron in a situation like that, so I’m not putting Sam down either by saying that Sam putting on the Ring would have doomed Middle-earth. 

What I’m saying is that just because the vision was of a garden doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have been detrimental to Sam’s character if he’d accepted the vision. Gandalf was wary of even handling it. Sam meanwhile goes to the ends of the earth as far as his people are concerned, right alongside the Ringbearer, and remains mainly concerned for the welfare of Frodo. The thought of what he might do with the Ring hasn’t crossed his mind until that moment. When measured up against his devotion to his master and also his plain hobbit-sense, the Ring can’t compete.

[fallenhunnyapple]

So the Poll said you guys were interested in the Human Priest!Adam AU which was a bit of a surprise honestly. But I'm very happy to talk about it~

I shared this art before for the AU. I gave a very basic description at the time, so let me get more detailed about it!

It hasn't gone unnoticed that Adam has gotten... Rather vice-ful in Heaven. One might even say sinful. And as such a public figure, that's no good. So they come up with a plan. Reincarnate Adam as a Human and let him live out a life and Prove that he's worthy of his place in Heaven. Of course, they'll take his memories and put him in a religious setting so he'll follow the proper path and prove himself.

He's sent to earth as a younger version of himself, old enough to take care of himself but still rather young, with the excuse of having been in an accident for why he has no memories (it removes the hassle of having to fabricate memories) and gets taken in by the church. He becomes the priest for this small town church. He's rather popular, his attitude, though not typical of a priest, being refreshing after their previous priest. He's made a bit uncomfortable about how adamantly homophobic some of his parish is as a closeted gay man, but he plays it off and over all he's doing well enough for himself at his church. Kinda lonely since its his Parish and not real companionship, he doesn't have any other friends or family. Not to mention he's actually been Good about not being sinful or acting on vices. Life is kinda hard.

Lucifer heard about this whole experiment. It doesn't really matter how, but since he knows, of course he needs to interfere. He... Hasn't actually gone to Earth before. He's sort of Shackled to Hell, its part of his punishment. But he finds some sort of Loop hole, using an Asmodean Crystal and some of his own cunning, he manages to make it there. Of course, he finds he still has his limits, he can't really interfere with most Humans, but Adam is a special case because while he is very much Human, he's still holy beyond any other human currently on Earth, and that gives him the chance to get close. His plan is honestly just to get him to Sin, enough to damn his soul so that Heaven would lose him when he died. He wasn't really planning on getting too Directly involved, but more nudging him in viceful and sinful directions.

And then Lucifer entered the church to meet him. Hallowed ground doesn't Actually affect him, he was an Angel once, he still has Angelic Powers and Abilities. The worst would be a vague tingling.

(take rp snippets. I'm Lucifer and Adam is @fallenguitarhero)

The AU as a whole, though it's definitely full of sexual tension and smut, because of course it is, it's also... Weirdly wholesome?

Adam didn't really have a Chance to make real friends or feel like anyone truly cared about him, he lost his 'childhood' and then was raised by the church and no one from his past ever tried to reenter his life. Aside from the setting though, he doesn't have the long hard life he lived in his memories, so he's basically like Eden Adam all over again, childish in a more playful way, not as bitter or vindictive, not as cruel. And Lucifer is there trying to gain his trust, and having this Adam act so much like the one he befriended back in the Garden, well. Lucifer sees him as sort of a friend too. And its the first time Adam's really felt companionship like that in this life. Sure, Lucifer is the Devil, but he acts like he cares more about him on a personal level than anyone else ever has.

Does that make him more susceptible to falling to Sin? Sure. But he doesn't find himself minding when the Devil makes him Feel Things, from romantic and sexual attraction to true fondness and friendship.

And for Lucifer's part, he's decided he no longer wants to tempt Adam to Sin just to fuck with Heaven. No, he wants Adam to join him in Hell because he was Adam To Join Him In Hell.

⚠️🔞 And since I mentioned the sexual tension and smut-

Essentially, as soon as Lucifer noticed that Adam was showing interest in him from their first meeting, he knew he had to have him Carnally. It wouldn't be enough to simply convince him to sin in other ways, no. He wanted to fuck him because there's no quicker way to Damnation than having sex with the Devil himself, right? Especially as a closeted gay priest. And Lucifer has the very specific goal in mind of getting Adam to let him fuck him in the confessional.

Lucifer doesn't start out pushing sex or anything. He wants to build trust with Adam first. But it's really not that hard to get under Adam's skin, he hardly has to do anything! Adam is a sexually frustrated man who has an inexplicable draw to the Devil and it doesn't take him long to start getting off to the very thought of him, of what Lucifer would do to him. And of course, Lucifer knows. And it only takes a little more poking and prodding and nudging before he can get Adam to agree to indulge in his fantasies and make them real!

And then there's just a fun scenario in my head about them being nasty in the confessional (like Lucifer wanted) and someone entering the other side and so Adam has to do his Job while Lucifer has him fully hilted and seated on his lap with a prehensile tentacle dick that's moving around on its own while Adam has to try Really Hard to not let himself make any suspicious sounds while taking confession-

[siswritesyanderes]

Hii! Would you ever consider writing a yandere snowjanus x reader fic or imagine?

-🐣

Oh boy, I love it.

Imagining they both noticed you at around the same time, separately.

This could be in the Capitol or in District 12; the difference does matter, as far as power dynamic and the tactics available to them and frankly their hairstyles, but for the sake of this post we'll say it could be either one. If necessary, maybe I'll make a separate post for what they're like specifically in the Capitol or specifically in the Districts. (Actually, whether you're a Capitol citizen or a District citizen is also a means of variation, so really there are four different combinations, unless we treat Sejanus' kind of District-born Capitol citizen status as a separate category, in which case five; being District-born Capitol would only matter in the Capitol setting, not the District. Does any of that make sense?)

They both fall for you, but Coriolanus is better at hiding it behind a formal, personable mask. He observes that Sejanus likes you, and if it were anyone else he would feel annoyed and possibly threatened, but he feels pretty in control of Sejanus, so he actually nudges him closer.

His thought is, if he can get Sejanus to do all the work of courting you, he can pretty much slide in there effortlessly once that's done. Let Sejanus clear the way, ward off suitors, prove his loyalty and affection. (Meanwhile, Coriolanus can focus on his University work, his mentorship with Dr. Gaul, whatever other ladder-climbing he's got going on.)

If Sejanus manages to actually win your affections, Coriolanus can use Sejanus' affection for him to add himself to the relationship.

If Sejanus can't win your affections, then at least he got rid of the other suitors. Coryo can take it upon himself to be charming and win you over, and then he can graciously allow Sejanus access to you as well. He does actually like Sejanus and enjoy the idea of charitably sharing someone like you with him; he just will always see himself as the de facto highest-ranking and most important member of the polycule.

The way this looks, in practice, is: Sejanus admires you from afar and feels a passive envy towards any other romantic entities in your life. Coriolanus urges him to act on these feelings, needles the productive insecurities and soothes the unproductive ones. Sejanus trusts Coriolanus when he says that certain people in your life are taking advantage of you or hurting you in some way, believes him when he says that getting rid of them is the right thing to do.

So, Sejanus does things that, left to his own devices, he might only have fantasized about.

It's Sejanus' money and shooting skills backed by Coriolanus' rationalizations and manipulations.

Inside, Sejanus knows that what he's doing is wrong, but Coriolanus is good at making sure the worst of him is rewarded with praise, attention, and you.

With you, Coriolanus is smooth and flattering. He has all the social graces and charming repartee down to a science, if not an art. He is observant, accommodating, and just generally great to be with.

Sejanus is less polished, more endearingly stuck in his head. He's a smart, witty guy, but around you he gets really shy and earnestly wholesome in a way his years in the Capitol have not encouraged. He's been bullied, and he's learned not to be too vulnerable with people, but he finds himself saying really heartfelt stuff to you, and that makes him feel even more helpless than knowing how many crimes he's done to get here.

Coriolanus loves the degree of control over Sejanus promised by the fact that he's the only one who knows about the crimes Sejanus has committed. Like I said, he genuinely likes Sejanus. It feels good to know Sejanus is in so deep and can't turn back. He's going to want to have the same kind of leverage on you, whether it's secrets, financial power, or whatever else. He needs to make sure you need him.

Being with them is nice. They're cute, they're pleasant, they make you laugh.

Sejanus is one of the few people you can talk to about not liking the Hunger Games who will explicitly agree. Coriolanus just sits silently during these conversations, rolls his eyes fondly at both of you, and reminds you not to say any of that in public.

The fact that Coriolanus basically is a Gamemaker now is something that Sejanus weirdly tolerates. You're not sure how the guy who threw a chair in anger, back at the Academy, has resigned himself to just sighing about the inhumanity of it all while sharing a loveseat with his Gamemaker boyfriend. Maybe his time as a Peacekeeper tamed him somehow.

He's comfortable. You're also comfortable. It's weird.

This isn't a kidnapping scenario; you're just in a relationship with the two of them, and as long as you don't try to break up or withdraw in any way, it's all smooth as satin.

If you start going against the grain, though, you're going to find out how many hooks Coriolanus has already put in place. You'll start to see the strings on everything in your life, including Sejanus.

You want to take a trip with your family instead of staying in town to attend a formal event with Coryo and Sejanus? All of a sudden some private statement you made in the past about disliking the Games has been flagged as treasonous, and you're not allowed to travel until the matter is resolved. (If you go to the event with them, the issue swiftly goes away. He explains that he had Dr. Gaul pardon you.)

You want to take a break from staying over with them every other evening, because someone in your family is sick or injured? Suddenly, the hospital can no longer care for your relative for an affordable price, because the Plinths' donations have mysteriously stopped and treatment prices have skyrocketed. Coriolanus is glad to personally pay for them to be cared for.

The more you push, the more stuff will fall apart. If the first little intimidation tactics work as intended, you won't have to see the full extent of the trap.

Coriolanus gives you a jabberjay in a birdcage, as a gift, and uses it to spy on you. He might place Sejanus in charge of obtaining information from the jabberjay, because Coryo loooooves to keep his hands clean.

(Let me know if you liked it!)

[bunji-enthusiast]

Could you do poly Tristan and Lancelot hc with a fem s/o?

Haha, hope this was okay anon! It’s always nice to write for either of them to be honest.

Its the wholesomeness I got in spades with these two!

Individually they are very great partners on their own, but both of them? Oh wow, you got real lucky! You are the most well-protected girl in the expanse of Britannia against any opponent. They can be a bit of clashing in terms of personality, but you can tell they always mean well for not just for yourself, but each other too. It's a working circle the three of you had managed, albeit perfectly.

Lancelot is full of worries most of the time, and he worries a lot. Even if he doesn't express it, he's come to care way too much about you and Tristan alike. You both stole a place in his heart and won't move out, and that almost scares him.

Tristan sometimes is stuck between a rock and hard-place, usually trying to be the one to amend things when going through bouts of agreements or difficulties that brought out very big emotions. But still, he could understand too, the idea that you could just suddenly lose your life and leave the other two in the process can be rather terrifying.

Life with them can tend to either swing from complete peace or complete and utter chaos, you can never truly tell what to expect. But that was only part of it, and you still chose to stick with them regardless.

Bathing together is a complete and utter rarity, many do it privately for very valid reasons. But in spa's? It is very much going to be all three of you, it's nice to be content and speak about the simple things of life.

Regardless if you are as about as strong as they are, or even weaker, they will both still very much express worry over you.

Lot's of private and domestic moments, especially during cuddle sessions. You're mostly kind of squeezed in between them or even other times your spooning Tristan or Lancelot from behind while the former holds the other.

Tristan is mainly the wounds taking care of wounds, he always insist anyway, and you couldn't say otherwise - having goddess powers really did come in handy often. Yet it was the intimacy of it whenever you or Lancelot would do it for any or all three of you, it was personal, but refreshing in a way.

Between the three of you, silent rage is truly something personal if either of you got injured. You all vow for each other and protect each other, so god help the person that injured even you, Lancelot or Tristan. If it's you alone that would have gotten injured, it's two very angry and powerful boys that the opponent would have to deal with.

Your smile and laughter? Absolutely knocks them both out (not literally), its the way the lines are so ingrained, the way the light frames your face perfectly when you smile and throw your head back to laugh. Its in the way that you have stolen their hearts so completely that they look at you like you're everything to them.

When you have your days of peace, without carrying out duties or patrol, you have dates. Which most of the time you usually suggest or bring up, other times it would be Tristan marking up the idea. However, whoever actually plans is usually a flip of coin. Though between the three of you, it's surprisingly Lancelot who plans the best kinds of dates and takes both of you into consideration about what you're comfortable with.

Hand-holding, absolutely. While it is rare for Lancelot to actually take your hand or his, he does admire it from a safe distance when you and Tristan hold hands. but when it happens to be hand-holding with him, you quite literally have to hold back the urge to scream. He's an absolute dork when this happens, and it's frankly adorable.

Sometimes, though also rare, you accidentally end up mix-matching clothes. Tristan could have your shirt, and you could have one of Lancelot's many sweatshirts (listen I know he constantly wears that outfit, which he looks good in but still).

Practice and training lessons together! Perfectly ordered in actions, and the clashing of swords and magic. usually is more so one on one, but when the three of you all together want to really practice and work at it, you all train and go against each other.

Lancelot is protective of you both, but he knows better to overstep, he's got manners after all. He just can't help but worry at times if there is some bad even that is occurring, he worries about both of you and your health. Eventually breaths thats sigh of relief when he hears one or the other's mind, through the ability of his heart-reading.

In the dense sparseness of the castle hallways, you could be seen with Tristan, just simply having a delight by dancing together. There is another pair of eyes watching you thoughtfully, not a sight he expected to wake up to and find, but nonetheless a welcome one.

The shimmering rays of the sun dawned on the still-awakening land, leaving the bustling liveliness of Liones to begin airing. Filling each and every sleeping person who begins their day with a renewed sense of emotions and a new motivation to take on the day, be it quick or sluggish. Particularly in this case, it was you and Tristan who'd awoken way earlier then Lancelot had. This was a rare case, but either of you didn't want to awaken the sleeping wild prince. So the two of you had opted to simply leave him alone and not disturb his sleep.

You chuckled as you pulled along the beautiful white-haired nephilim, who was questioning at each turn where you were taking him too. You just told him to be patient and wait till you had gotten to your desired destination. Which didn't take very long to reach fortunately.

Tentatively letting go of your hold on his wrist, you stepped into the empty yet large room. it was the dining hall only used for balls and the celebrations of birthdays alike. Tristan slowed down to a stop, watching your movements as you walked around, hearing the bountiful echos of your footstep clack against the cold-hard stone. A small smile tugged on his lips, such a simple act, yet he couldn't help but find the beauty of the chastity in it all.

Like the haunting howls of a weeping ghost, yet it was such a wonderful and tearful cry. With all the stories interwoven, and one could tell, with the scratches indented into stone from numerous footsteps made in the vast expanse of the space. One could tell, he could tell, that it wasn't the ordinary everyday thing to set off such a wonderful morning.

"What'd you bring me here for?" He asked, whence finally daring to break the uniqueness of the silence, though he was dearly endowed in wanting it to last even longer. You turned your head, the flowing locks of your hair following along. Just a small smile, a barely noticeable grin as you clasped your hands tightly behind your back.

The windows were wide, and towering, leaving the light to spill in. Casting such an ethereal glow upon the colors that made up your appearance, Tristan almost seemed to be ashamed for allowing himself to set eyes upon such a sight.

It was certainly a far cry from what he was used to, and he wasn't sure if he was prepared for it. But akin to obstacles, he would push through it and succeed.

"I was wondering," You began, walking forward toward the prince of Liones. "If you wanted to share a dance?"

"A dance?" His eyes widened, though not in disgust or reprise. It was something else entirely, you weren't sure.

You let out a hum of affirmation, cheeks colored bashfully.

"I-I uh," he stammered, before shaking his head and pulling himself together. "That sounds nice, but i'm kinda a bad dancer though." He laughed, scratching the back of his head, cheeks dusted pink with embarrassment. Oh it was a wonderful, vociferous sight to see such a bashful expression on the prince.

You had contemplated your thoughts for a moment, and the current situation of circumstances. But you decided once and for all--

"Come on anyway!" You grinned, holding out your hand for him to take. "I'll help you, promise."

He seems to be turning within himself, eyes swimming with stout doubt. One blue, one green, both colors you had almost envied him for being born with. They fit him so perfectly, like a glove. You'd stare at them for eternity if you could, for it was in eternity that you had been born with the blessing to encounter not just him, but the grumpy blonde prince as well.

It was that you had been snapped out of your daydream that Tristan took your hand, so you respond immediately, pulling him close and swimmingly performing ornate moves, and even the silliest ones. Causing to elicit laughter from both of you when either of you mess up a move.

One stamp on the foot or on the other.

"Ow!" You wince, and Tristan's expression immediately turn to concern as an apology spills out of his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry!" He said, almost frowning as he held your waist, stepping somewhat backward as he waited for you to re-adjust yourself. Tristan didn't mean to make another mistake again.

You shook your head with a giggle, pulling him close again, and holding both his hands, removing them from your waist. "I like this, it's nice compared to the stuffy royal ball kind of dancing."

His brows turned, A small smile tugging at his lips, "Oddly specific, don't you think?" You shrugged your shoulders, a knowing expression betraying the notion.

Lancelot let out a groan, noticing immediately that two bodies of warmth had disappeared from the bed. He shifts onto his elbows, raising his brows in confusion as his sight had been wrought with bleariness. He got up, shifting the blankets, but he had folded them back rather neatly. His eyes shifting, somewhat sensing the way you two had left the room. Didn't even bother to wake him up as well, he almost groans bitterly at the thought, but it was immediately replaced with some appreciation for being allowed to sleep longer.

So he finally got up, and began his quest of finding the two of you.

Which honestly didn't take very long, considering the laughter and the barely noticeable echo of steps that seemed to repeated, song and dance, he didn't even need to use his ability to read thoughts. Lancelot wasn't necessarily sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't you and Tristan dancing together.

He let out a low hum as he encountered the sight, it was somehow in a way, refreshing. It tugged at his heartstring in a way he didn't realize they could be, as he leaned against the large doorway, hands in the comfort of his pockets.

Lancelot could notice the clear smile on your face, and Tristan's face. It was a certain he was almost sure he didn't deserve to lay his eyes on. But he was content, nonetheless in drinking in the sight of beauty and laughter.

The drawled scent of petrichor and the comforting air drafted the once musty hallways, spilling in from the vast expanse of the empty ballroom naught for the two bodies making it sing so lively. It was one spin, then another step then two steps, that he was sure that he was so, so lucky to find such a sight.

Lancelot's head was tilted in thought, the energy imbuing him with a sense of rejuvenation he never had felt before, the assurance of living as long as your partners. The excitement of memories to come, and surely he was sorely going to imbed this to memory for as-long as he lived, and Lancelot sure as hell didn't mind the thought of that.

"You're pretty silly sometimes, I swear Tristan," You comment, sticking out your tongue as you looked at him, quite a wide grin.

The whiter-haired prince shook his head at your remark, letting out a small scoff as he pulled you close. Enrapturing you in a surprise hug, then pulled back.

"I believe you are... sillier than I." He punctuates with a goofy expression, as he pats your head, and you just smile, features softening almost impossibly.

"Could be me, but there's enough of that goin' around."

You and Tristan's heads had turned to the source of the voice, finding Lancelot to be the source. You jumped in surprise, almost stammering, "What? how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to see you two prancing around." He shot back, you could almost see the expression of fatigue slowly wearing out from existence on his face, you assume he had recently awoken.

Tristan just laughs, crossing his arms, "You wanna join us? It's pretty fun." He said, a remarkably kind smile on his own face. Your eyes flit between him and Lancelot, and yet then, only you and Tristan burst out in laughter. While the blonde just scoffed, pressing forward to join you both in the room.

But, he really couldn't deny it, always enjoyed the sights of beauty.

[shoyastars]

fic idea 💡

Hypothetical fan kid of Ray or oc gets powers and tries to hide the abilities from NAHA

Naha can stick themselves in a casket.

YESSSSSSSS!!!!!

WHOEVER YOU ARE MAWH!

I love this idea!!! Hehehehe. Let’s cause the NAHA pain all around!

Ahem..

Ray x Reader

Hidden Star and Abilities

——————————————————————————

Please keep in mind Binary Star Hero is 18+ which means no minors are allow to interact nor come in contact with the fandom or game! It’s is meant for adults. Although this fanfic may seem wholesome, still minor’s interacting is a big no.

The creator of Binary Star Hero is: Concreteparasite on itch, tumblr and twitter. I suggest you play the game if you have not played yet, trust me the game is very good!

Let’s carry on.

——————————————————————————

You and Ray were together for so long it only feels like yesterday you two met face to face. Although the road to trust was bumpy in some ways, you two only grew closer.

And that’s when you had your little shining star.

Your child

(you can pick the gender and name, this is an x Reader fanfic!)

You and Ray despite grasping parenting the first time around, soon gotten the hang of it. You’re child grew into a beautiful kid, soon as they hit 5 however was when it got a bit…. Difficult…

Ray was away at work, and you were looking for them and found they were happily playing with their ability. The child like nature only seeing this as an amazing thing, while you worried for them. Knowing the NAHA would crack down at the chance to possibility invite them to become a hero if they’re power had gotten stronger. You knew Ray didn’t want that life for his own kid, you didn’t want that for your kid.

As a result of a conversation between you and Ray having a conversation, you two decided to keep it secret from the NAHA.

-

As years flew by, they had noticed how overprotective their father was. They were now a tween the years truly go by fast, however one day you heard Ray and your kid arguing, you rushed to see what’s going on.

“Oh come on! You have abilities and you show them off all the time.”

“It’s because I have to for my job! You’re still a kid, you barely know have to use your ability properly.”

“Because you never let me try!”

You weren’t sure what to do, Ray wasn’t wrong for protecting them, but yet again learning to use their abilities in case of emergencies wouldn’t be a bad idea….

“I’m your father, no abilities got it?”

You walk over to your kid.

“Maybe we should clam down…?”

“YOUR BARELY HERE TO EVEN BE CALLED MY DAD! UGH!”

They run out the room and slam the door in anger. Now that was pushing it too far…. You look at Ray, you noticed how he didn’t even have words to speak back at that. All he did was sigh, he gone to sit down. Clearly frustrated. He wasn’t sure what to do…. Or say in this matter…

You sat down next to him. Hand on his shoulder as to comfort him.

“They’re not wrong… but I’m trying. They just don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

“Of course, but they’re not wrong in a way. Maybe if they use their ability when in danger, that would be helpful.”

Ray looks at you and then looks away, rubbing his neck.

“I don’t know star….”

“No need to rush things. I’m just suggesting that as a possible solution. After all, you and I aren’t going to be around forever.”

You took Ray’s hand in yours, his hand rough from all the work from his job as a hero, yours from working and helping look after your little Star. Ray let’s out a sigh, laying his head on your shoulder. You run your finger through his hair. You could sense the smile as he rubbed his thumb over you hand.

“I’m just lucky to have them with you.”

“I know.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let them try, at least for self defense.”

You smile and then kiss his check, a pink hue spreads across his face as you did that. He then sighs know this would mean talking to your little rebel of a kid. Hopefully they won’t have one of those difficult phases….

He gets up soon afterwards, to go talk to little star, you were hoping this would work. At least to make sure you’re the little star in your life wouldn’t fall to the NAHA or to something out of their control…..

Few days goes by, and you bring in some cool drinks as you see Ray and Little Star practicing their ability, via by self defense. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw how Ray pats Little Star on the head as a good job for today. Though this moment might not last forever, you’ll enjoy what you can with these two. As long if it’s not an actual fight. Hiding it from the NAHA seemed more easier now that they’ve offered the alternative option.

Let’s at least have this nice moment for now…..

[silvergreenseraphim]

The First Soldier: Chapter Six

Japanese highlights + analysis

Hi guys! Okay, let’s look right into this chapter-

Opening with Team Glenn, we learn some small details. The Shinra dig will start soon, and Glenn marvels at how fast everything is moving. Matt credits Shinra power, Glenn credits their hard work as a team, and Lucia credits Sephiroth, who did most of the work. Glenn, being more humble now, admits that he cannot deny it, and remembers that he must tell Sephiroth about the payment.

However, he notes that Sephiroth does not seem interested in money. This is one of the first hints throughout this chapter that Team Glenn still do not fully understand what Sephiroth is to Shinra. It is a subtle but reoccurring pattern, particularly when the notion of “being fired” comes into play later on.

The English in this scene was good. No major changes.

The chief engineer calls the team over and reprimands them for being too relaxed, saying that they need to do their jobs and clear out the monsters near the living quarters. Glenn awkwardly agrees to get back to patrolling, but first he asks,

“Hey, have you seen our squad leader?”

The engineer responds,

“If you mean that kid, isn’t he still out looking through the bodies? It’s disgusting. Please make him stop.“

Glenn is surprised and says, “Sephiroth is rummaging through the corpses?”

Matt notes that Sephiroth does often disappear/go off on his own, and Lucia says to look for him on their patrol.

(Seeing how the other Shinra employees behave and speak helped me see why Sephiroth had no luck asking around about his mother. They are only there to do their jobs, and don’t understand the child SOLDIER at all. It is very much an indifferent workforce).

Next is the scene where we learn about the materia fragments that were shattered over time. This scene adds greater weight to the mako spring discussion in the Nibelheim flashback, where Sephiroth comments that the condensed formation must have taken ages. It takes a very long time for even small bits to form, and even then they can shatter.

There is the silly bit of banter between the team about using diversion pebbles/materia fragments, but I must note again that Glenn seems calmer and less cocky even in his jesting.

Then Lucia becomes visibly concerned and says,

“Looking through corpses…I wonder if he’s really doing that…”

Glenn responds,

“The chief engineer is just joking around right? There’s no way he (Sephiroth) would do something like that.”

Matt agrees that there would be no need for it, and the team moves forward.

(It is very wholesome to see them believe only the best of Sephiroth despite what others think, and they are more perceptive and accurate about him anyway. This story constantly leads the audience to worry that Sephiroth always held darker traits before immediately disproving these concerns or at least showing that his reasons were always understandable. Team Glenn speaks for the more optimistic viewers at this point).

Of course little Sephiroth is caught undeniably searching a body, and Glenn questions him in surprise. Sephiroth is confused at first, but then acknowledges that it does look wrong. Lucia asks him if he is looking for something. Sephiroth says,

“I lost the pendant with my mother's photo in it.. . . . . .I was looking for it. I was checking to see if someone might have picked it up and had it on them…”

(So, a small translation nuance; it is clear in Japanese that Sephiroth dropped it and believed that someone could have picked it up. He is not just looking under bodies, he is going through their pockets and all to see if anyone has it with them.)

Sephiroth chuckles and admits,

“Haha, I suppose I am a corpse-scavenger…“

(This is another case of Sephiroth’s childlike innocence mingling with his very dark reality. He lost his most precious possession like a normal child would, but now has to search for it among the dead that he himself laid to waste).

When the others understand, Glenn says,

“Alright, let’s look for it while we kill monsters.”

And Sephiroth replies,

“Thank you very much…that helps…“

The team moves on to kill monsters and search.

Glenn notes the lesser number of bodies and Sephiroth points out that it was because of the monsters. Glenn shudders to think of dying in the area, but Sephiroth takes the opportunity to beseech them to not let their guard down. He says,

“You all seem to be feeling a little relaxed. You can never be too careful. You must protect yourself. If you don't apply this basic rule...”

Right then a monster swoops in and Sephiroth kills it, stunning the others. He concludes with, “…then even I can’t protect you.”

Glenn asks, “So, you’re protecting us?”

Sephiroth walks up to him and responds,

“It’s because you’re my team.”

They are interrupted by more monsters, but when the fighting ends, Matt repeats what Sephiroth said.

“I’ll protect you because you’re my team…”

Matt glares at Glenn and says,

“I’d like to hear that from a team-leader I know who previously threatened to hit one of his own squad members…”

Lucia chimes in with the comment about that same team-leader making them be near his gross socks.

(They are both referencing the first chapter of the game, where Glenn’s outburst on the helicopter made it appear as though he were going to punch Matt, and when Glenn made a joke about his socks being so bad that they would pull Lucia out of shell-shock).

Sephiroth looks up at Glenn while shaking his head and laughs, saying,

“Ha…that’s the worst.”

Glenn remarks,

“But it’s “memorable,” isn’t it?”

Sephiroth thinks for a moment and says,

“Yes, I see. So, that team-leader fears being forgotten…”

This observation strikes Matt and even Glenn. They appear to rethink Glenn’s leadership style. Glenn does not protest the observation, but he ponders it.

(I found it sweet that Sephiroth did not judge Glenn, but pointed out what is likely a true insecurity of Glenn’s, but in a very mild and childlike way. Part of me even wonders if Sephiroth understood the fear because he too had struggled with it. After all, adult Sephiroth refused to be a memory even post-insanity.)

(Also, it is hard to fully explain, but reading this text in Japanese—it becomes easier to see how it is not just Glenn that influences Sephiroth, but also the other way around. It’s strange but…it feels as though Glenn has become…softer? Even when alone with his team, he is not disrespecting them so much or being so brash. It was his meeting with Rosen that helped him to develop sympathy for the “enemy” and it was Sephiroth that helped Glenn become kinder to his team. Even the way he speaks seems gentler. 

In the last chapter, Glenn was so harsh towards Seph at the beginning, but learned remorse and how to apologize when Sephiroth’s vulnerability was showcased. In this chapter, Sephiroth is the one to understand that Glenn might have been such a brash leader because he feared being forgotten, which was a very perceptive and empathetic observation, causing even Matt to reconsider. It was a very heart-warming scene). 

(The next sequence is devastating and I believe it caused some minor controversy with fans because of how Glenn speaks, but I can affirm that the tone in Japanese seems to aim for sympathetic character development. As I mentioned before, Glenn is different to the character we first met, and his arc is becoming more clear as we move forward.)

As the squad looks through the bodies, Glenn notices that there were not many Rhadoran remnants left, and Matt suspects it was because of their living conditions and the endless battle with monsters. Glenn remarks that it must have been a hard lifestyle. He then says,

“...I don't really understand why Rhadore hated the Mako reactors…I mean, there's no such thing as convenient (as the reactors), right?”

They are swiftly interrupted again by monsters, causing Sephiroth to say that they seem more interested than usual.

“The monsters seem more interested than usual.”

“They’re excited about live bait!” Glenn says.

“If you want to be bait, I won't stop you, but as a SOLDIER, please fight first.” Sephiroth urges.

When they clear out the area again, Matt considers the similarities between the Rhadoran believes and “Planetology” or the “study of the star.”

“When a person dies, their life returns to the planet with their consciousness and heart and intersects with the energy of life circulating around the planet. The idea is that a new life will eventually be born from it. The life around this planet is what they call “qi” (mana). The “qi” going around the planet enriches people and nature and the planet itself. It would be unthinkable for Rhadore to consume such an irreplaceable energy.”

Glenn is still confused, and then Sephiroth interjects with,

“Dr. Hojo talked to me about this…

“No matter how rationally and logically we explain things, there are people we will not be able to share understanding with. That is because they see the world differently.””

Glenn argues that such things won’t matter if someone dies, and that it would just be better to accept an easy life instead of fighting so hard against it. He points out that Rosen is the only one left, and says that if the Rhadoran beliefs are true, what will become of the last Rhadoran boy when he dies? When he is gone, no one will be left, and people will forget Rhadore.

Sephiroth sadly shakes his head and turns away, saying that,

“The planet remembers…I am certain that is what the people of Rhadore believe…”

Glenn receives his epiphany, and understands that the Rhadorans resisted the consumption of mana/mako because it would erase all memories of life. He is suddenly overcome with sadness and turns to kneel and honor the fallen soldiers. The others do the same.

(This scene was, in my opinion, intended to deliver a strong message, but was maybe limited by the story-telling style. Some people were shocked by Glenn’s questioning why the Rhadorans all died for their beliefs when he is with the very company that wiped them out. But I think it does help to remember that this war between Shinra and Wutai was something that soldiers like Glenn and his team only had seen one side of until this point. They were a survey team working for money after all, not the ones directly sent to kill the Rhadorans until Sephiroth arrived, who did most of the work anyway, and even shocked the others with his conditioned ruthlessness in the previous chapter.

Shinra is a propaganda monster, and undoubtedly played off the war as something the Wutaians started and were responsible for, as well as the Rhadorans. It does sound like Glenn is genuinely confused here, especially as someone who was probably used to Shinra being the default government for everything.

“Why would these people willingly die and fight Shinra for trying to make their lives easier?”

But that is the simple darkness of imperialism. Shinra was going to erase something very important to the Rhadorans for the sake of “convenience.”

Glenn only sees this after Sephiroth himself acknowledges the Rhadoran faith. This is where a change of heart occurs. The Rhadorans were fighting for a genuine reason. Of course they were.

I actually felt this was a very meaningful sequence after translating it. Very good attempt at addressing imperialist destruction.)

Afterwards, they keep up the search and Matt asks if Sephiroth is sure he dropped the necklace in the building they are in. He says he had it before the ruins, so he is sure it must have been in the building. Lucia explains that it might be difficult to find if they haven’t already. Sephiroth tiredly shakes his head and says,

“It’s okay. Thanks to everyone for looking together, I think I’m about ready to give it up.”

He is saying that since everyone looked at the same time, he is ready to accept that he has to let the photo go. If they can’t find it together, then it is truly lost. The others become downcast on his behalf, and then Glenn moves over to one of the dead soldiers. He suggests they bury them as a way to say sorry, though he is not sure if that is their custom. Either way, Sephiroth immediately says that he will help, and Glenn is grateful.

The next scene was clearly translated into English. As they bury the bodies, the dig begins and Sephiroth explains that they will need to evacuate to the sky in thirty minutes, thanks to a possible mako eruption or “torrent of qi” caused by Shinra’s explosives. Glenn remembers Rosen’s words, and Sephiroth says they need to hurry.

The following sequence is endearing as Sephiroth makes shortcuts for the team. He reveals a unique power that allows him to create great bursts of energy from simple materia fragments. The others are stunned. Glenn, in particular, cannot believe it even after Sephiroth explains. He says,

“No, it’s impossible! Sephiroth, you’re amazing!!”

In the next scene, Glenn is initially ready to chop down a tree to form a bridge across a river, but Sephiroth steps in and says his way will be quicker. Where before, Glenn would have been eager to lead the way, he kindly steps aside and lets Sephiroth take over. Glenn is once again verbally supportive, and says,

“Ha! As expected.”

Sephiroth says,

“As expected of a modified human (cyborg), right?”

Glenn says wasn’t going to say that, nor was he thinking it. Sephiroth says,

“Really?….I’m a little disappointed…”

Glenn is confused and Sephiroth shakes his head,

“I don’t really understand it myself…”

Bringing his head low and his hand to his heart again, he guesses,

“It’s just…nothing you guys say makes me feel bad, so I want you to be able to say anything…”

(The English got the point across as well, but Seph is sincerely saying that he trusts them because they don’t say things that hurt him, so he doesn’t want them to feel as if they need to hold back their thoughts. He is pointing out that he has grown to feel safe with them because they are not malicious with their words. It feels like he discovers the idea of trust in relationships right here).

Glenn perks up and says,

“Alright then, I’ll tell you what I think!! I’m counting on you, squad-leader! Now, let’s go!”

Sephiroth enthusiastically responds with “Yes!” and they move on.

The waterfall scene is largely the same. Glenn fully goes to Sephiroth to lead this time and hands him the materia fragment. He asks if Sephiroth can use it like before, and in Japanese, Sephiroth endearingly says he doesn’t want to “make things go boom” but that he has an idea. He freezes the waterfall and Glenn voices his praise again.

When they finally draw close, Glenn stops to think of Rosen, but Sephiroth urges him to hurry. When they get to the overlook, it becomes clear that Glenn and the others are struggling with remorse over the Rhadorans and Rosen being in danger. They exchange glances and Glenn almost says something to Sephiroth, but stops himself.

Sephiroth himself is far more concerned about them, his team, and their safety. The divide is obvious, and a choice will have to be made.

They arrive as the last ones to the Shinra helicopter and the engineer is ready for them to evacuate, but Glenn begs the man to delay the dig so that he can go and warn Rosen, thus setting his plans in motion without forewarning Sephiroth. The engineer refuses despite Glenn’s pleas and brings up the amount of money Shinra has put into the program. Glenn shouts,

“This isn’t about the money!”

And punches the engineer, much to Matt and Lucia’s exasperation.

The engineer says,

“I'll report you to headquarters! I can even have you fired.”

Glenn does not care. It is the first time we have seen him willingly dismiss money and fight for something else. He tells the engineer to get on the other helicopter, and Matt tells Lucia to make her decision. She apologizes to Sephiroth and hi-jacks the copter. Sephiroth simply turns his back quietly.

The final Stamp battle occurs afterwards as an interruption, and the team finishes the job, with more remorse from Glenn about messing with Stamp’s island. Then the engineer flies overhead and drops down the ladder, offering one more chance. Lucia says,

“Will Sephiroth also be disposed of?”

Matt reminds her,

“It’s okay, we’re the only ones at fault. There are witness too.”

With this, the team says goodbye to their leader, and Glenn tells him,

”Sephiroth, take care! Don’t overdo it/push yourself too much!”

They run off, leaving Sephiroth to evacuate, but he hesitates. The engineer shouts,

“Hurry up and get on, hero!”

But our hero can’t leave his friends just yet!

He runs up to them and Glenn is surprised. He says,

“You came…….are you sure? If you get on this helicopter, you could get fired, right?”

And the chapter ends with Sephiroth’s simple reply,

“I’m special.”

Glenn just laughs.

—

This appears to be a direct reference to Sephiroth’s future statement about always knowing he was special or different since he was a child.

The word is the same.

“Exceptional, unique, beyond ordinary…”

But this line from Sephiroth is actually more upsetting to me than funny or cocky, because yes, there is indeed a chance he is merely being proud about being able to get away with his current actions due to his status as Shinra’s hero, but…

There is also the chance he knows he cannot be fired or disposed of because Shinra would never let him leave. They have control over him. He is different or special in that sense too. He is a prized possession, unlike the others.

I have yet to see, but I wonder if Sephiroth knows that he is risking severe punishment for his actions by helping his team and will not be met with a simple lay-off, but since this is his last chance to help and be with his team, he is ready to pay the price. If they are fired, he may not see them again. Now is his chance.

His hesitation at the helicopter is sincere. He clasps at his heart and everything. I don’t believe he is being light-hearted when he tells Glenn he is different. In the English, it came off more prideful, as though Seph were daring Shinra to come after him. In Japanese, I get the feeling he is making a sacrifice. 

Sephiroth also believes it is his job to protect his team. If Shinra tries to harm them, he will have to face that. I fear that for now, Sephiroth has not learned that Shinra will not just punish him, but they can also kill people he considers friends.

I also think this chapter was full of foreshadowing.

Even the scenes with Glenn praising Sephiroth and making an effort to do it honestly and constantly felt as though it were meant to be a contrast for what could be shown later if the Shinra higher-ups appear and catch Sephiroth in the act of treason.

I am very proud of him, but I am very concerned for him now.

(I have more thoughts on Sephiroth’s relationship with Team Glenn after this chapter, but I will save it for another post! Hope you guys enjoy this one in the mean time!)

[lediz-watches]

Oxventure

Because dammit, I need to smile today and no one makes me smile more than these people.

Oxventure is an amazing group of people that play tabletop roleplaying games on youtube and spotify. They are Chaotic Good in the best way possible.

And I think we all need more chaotic good in our lives today.

Okay, first off, I must show my colours: I have been watching their parent channel Outside Xbox almost since it began, and they are actually why I got a Youtube Premium account (Youtube, you owe these people more than 2/3rds of my subscription). They are my background noise. So obviously I'm biased, but this post is about the Oxventure channel and why I love it.

Lately, they've been marketing themselves as an actual play channel, technically rivalling Critical Role, but I don't like to think of them like that. To me, Oxventure is more storytelling improv that happens to use tabletop mechanics as a prop. And the reason that's an important distinction is because Oxventure is at its best when it's being silly.

So. Some background.

Oxventure is, in alphabetical order, Andy, Ellen, Jane, Johnny, Luke, and Mike, and a host of guests when they feel the need. It began as a one-off milestone celebration on Outside Xbox where everyone but Mike (he had a Car Thing) played Dungeons and Dragons--most of them for literally the first time--on camera. Since then, it has expanded into its own channel with six series of varying prominence and many one-shots.

If you want to see them at their most condensed and I would argue truest form, I recommend DnD but everyone is a Kobold.

Their shows can run the full gambit from silly (the kobold shows) to high adventure (Oxventure Blades in the Dark) to wholesome (Tea-Time Adventures) to absurd (DnD but it's Pokemon) to emotional body-slams (Oxventure Deadlands) to quietly creepy (Oxventure Wyrdwood). But at its core, whatever series you're watching, Oxventure is about friends gathering together to have fun as they make their way in a world that seems a bit insane.

The original game/series/what have you is The Oxventurers Guild, which remains my favourite. Their motto (seen in Latin above) is "Everyone Should Have Thought Of Everything", meaning that they have a habit of just diving into things without thinking and then being shocked Pikachus when the consequences arrive.

The characters (and world) are a mess, but the thing that was most wonderful is that the group were learning how to play DnD on screen. They screwed up the rules, they lost dice, they forgot about feats... a running gag is that Mike, playing a paladin, has only the loosest concept of his own abilities and will randomly read his character sheet to discover something that would have been useful last session. Meanwhile Ellen made arguably the most powerful character, with what should have been one of the most powerful spells, and yet was the first knocked out in their PVP session because of a few unlucky rolls.

Johnny is an amazing first-time DM, too, because they just... let the group play. They run with the rules until the rules stop being fun. And that's what makes Oxventure so enjoyable for me.

I remember trying to watch a few Actual Plays after the first episode of Oxventure, and I can remember the exact moment I checked out. It was when a player made a joke, and the DM gave her a very direct Look and firmly informed her that if she didn't immediately take it back, there would be mechanical consequences.

Compare and contrast Johnny, whose attempt to show the Oxventurers Actions Have Consequences nearly ended with a bunch of evil skeletons realising that actually, they didn't realise how hard it was to avoid evil consequences so maybe they should cut the players some slack and stop giving such horrible consequence - wait! No! Bad bosses no make skeletons behave!

(We love the Sixty Skeletons, Flaming Skull Foreman, and Skeleton Donkey) (don't ask) (it only kind of makes sense in context)

But that's not all on Johnny - a lot of it comes down to the beautiful muppets that are the original players, and specifically Andy, Jane, and Mike, who have been a chaotic force of good online since they joined together to form Outside Xbox in 2009.

These three, and by extension all of Oxventure, are a little silly, always snarky, incredibly good at what they do but always beset by terrible luck and worse technology. They are also incredibly well-meaning (and hilarious) even when they're actively trying to be horrible (unrelated to this post but PLEASE watch their Hitman videos for further proof of this). And that carries through to their characters, who can be card carrying evil and yet still care so deeply about their friends that you can't help but love them.

An example of their chaotic competence is in an episode of their latest series Wyrdwood. There was a short of Johnny and Producer Zack talking about how Wyrdwood is a very creepy series starring the human equivalent of the Muppets, which is so true, but I would like to draw attention to a specific moment to prove my point:

In this particular episode, Johnny has created a truly terrifying scenario: trapped in mist with music playing beyond their hearing, the team are being picked off one by one despite specific measures to the contrary, until the characters played by the Oxbox trio are alone in oppressive danger. Things look dire. They know they're in trouble and helpless. It's only a matter of time before they're all gone.

They promptly spend the next five minutes flailing, yelling at each other, completely ruin Johnny's nefarious trap, locate their friends, and set themselves up to win the whole day while seemingly focussed entirely on figuring out which of them should be blamed for screwing up.

Even Johnny doesn't seem to know whether to be offended their whole scary vibe was just destroyed or impressed by how effortless the trio made it look, and I feel like that's the correct response.

And I think that's what I love about this series, and these people. They give me a kind of... exasperated hope for all of us.

I have to admit, when I first heard about Wyrdwood and saw the art, I was worried, because I thought Oxventure were going serious. But then, only a few minutes into the first episode, Jane uttered the immortal words 'Luck Pervert' to describe Luke's newest character and I knew we'd be fine.

These people are silly. They tell silly stories.

But they are stories about love, and friendship, and trying even against impossible odds, and making tough choices, and growing as people. All while you and the world around you are a complete mess and everything seems insane. You can still be better, and make the world better, even if it seems like you're just making more of a mess right now.

You watch, and you cringe, and you sigh and call them all 'absolute muppets', and then you cheer as they come up with some insane plan that shouldn't work and yet always, somehow, without rhyme, reason, or explanation... works.

They are silly, and they are heartfelt, and I suspect I will binge-watch the entire channel all over again this Christmas break.

Because while the Oxventurers' motto may be "Everyone should have thought of everything", the fact is no one has. So just go with what you've got.

And it might work out okay.