#how do you write more than 10

[imferns]

how do people write their thesis how the fuck do you have a doctorate you are fucking amazing

[theroundbartable]

Arthur: I'm tired

Merlin, who hasn't slept in 72 hours and has his fifteenth coffee intus: maybe you should go to bed

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[1000sunnygo]

IMO a lesser mentioned reason behind Luffy's overwhelming success as a protagonist is Oda's extreme overprotectiveness. Like he'd rather jump off a cliff than let Luffy be controversial.

Marineford is an easy example. An arc heavily featuring Luffy's low point, but Oda didn't make him responsible for Ace's death. In 1000+ chapters of screentime, I can't think of an instance where Luffy did something irredeemable in fandom eyes. Only controversial scene that comes to mind is picking a fight against Zoro in Whiskey peak? Maybe Oda had the luxury to let his guard down back then bc online discussions weren't a thing PFFT

It's not like Luffy doesn't make mistakes, but Oda makes sure Luffy is immediately called out by someone in the story so he stays grounded and can apologize if he has to.

And that's not all, Oda is vocally supportive of Luffy in the polls, he can't not include Luffy in magazine covers even when the editors press him to, he made the timskip 2years bc he wanted Luffy to stay a child during story's runtime, he doesn't let a single character outshine Luffy in an arc, he cushioned Luffy's past with TWO brothers and kept one alive after taking away one of them.. he's spoiling Luffy rotten and I love to see it bc that's the right kind of spoiling, that's what keeps Luffy the happy boy he needs to be, shonen authors should take some notes methinks

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐎𝐂 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬' 𝐨𝐜𝐬)

summary: i was plagued by the visions of my twst ocs interacting with my moots’ ocs, so here we are (aka i had a sudden burst of motivation to write about them interacting and now i'm very nervous to post this)

characters: cassandra, selene, angelica, carmilla (my ocs); @crystallizsch’s yuusha and yuuna, @viperbunnies’s oz (ft. yuudai), @anbaisai’s mayu

warnings: bullying (oz's part); jamil slander bc i love him <3 (all parts)

a/n: if i ever manifest in your dms with cryptic questions about your ocs, be not afraid, just answer them :3c (also i need to set up my oc directory and finish some intros fr)

twisted wonderland masterlist

CASS + YUUSHA + YUUNA

The sun was still high and clear in the sky as Yuusha made her way towards Ramshackle. Most students had already either returned to their dorm by this time or were still goofing off with their friends, sparing her any unnecessary run-ins with any of the college’s troublemakers. But, at NRC, a day could only stay peaceful for so long. When she passed by the mirror chamber, her phone vibrated.

Ramshackle Support Group 

yuuna: @.yuusha be careful when you come back to the dorm yuuna: the stairs to the second floor caved in again yuusha: i’m still close to the school, i’ll go talk to crowley about it Cass: Wait for me, I’d also like to have a chat with the Headmage. yuusha: we’re not killing him Cass: Not even a little?

A few hours later, with the sun already far behind the horizon, the three girls fell onto Ramshackle’s rickety couches in exhaustion. Crowley had very generously provided them with funds to purchase supplies for repairing the stairs, but had otherwise not lifted a single clawed finger. Likewise, Grim was nowhere to be seen when he heard of physical labour.

“So,” Cass broke the silence, lifting her head from a cushion, “when are we going to ask Kalim for help instead of that useless weirdo?”

“We can’t just go and mooch off Kalim just because he’s rich,” Yuusha interjected, rolling over and settling into a more comfortable position at the other end of the sofa.

“Why not? Every other student in this school seems to be absolutely loaded. We, on the other hand…” Cass fished out a pillow under her golden locks and demonstrably pulled open the entire seam by a loose thread. “It’s not like Kalim would even notice.”

“Well, by that standard,” Yuuna chimed up while straightening out the bow in their hair, “why don’t you go ask Leona, Cass? I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help you out.”

“Yeah right, and next you know Azul will start handing out freebies,” the blonde snorted. Discarding the thread between her fingers on the coffee table, she started fiddling with the frazzled pillow cover instead. “Why are you bringing him up anyway? Aren’t Idia or Malleus or Vil just as rich?”

Her dorm mates exchanged knowing looks before Yuusha tilted her head towards Cassandra again with a grin. “Oh c’mon, we both have eyes you know.”

“And I’m not sure if those are working correctly.”

“Why deny it?” Yuuna giggled, taking a sip from the mug cradled between their hands. “Sure, Leona’s got an attitude problem and is generally unpleasant, but it could be worse. Probably.”

“You’re imagining things, why would I—“ Breaking herself off with a sharp exhale, Cass pulled the seam taught between her hands. “I’d rather throw myself headfirst into a pit of horned serpents than ask that ass for a favour.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you’d like to ask that ass something else instead,” Yuusha gleefully joined in the teasing. A second later a certain cushion hit her square in the chest, which didn’t deter her. “Or are you saying you decided to join Jack’s morning run, which just so happens to end at Savanaclaw’s morning practice, with no ulterior motive?”

“It certainly wasn’t so I could see Leona more! But anyway, since I already brought up snakes just now,” Cass started, turning her bright eyes on Yuusha. “Why don’t we talk about what I saw when passing by the courtyard this afternoon?”

With a telling glance towards Yuuna, who sat curled up in their armchair now, Cass added, “Involving a certain Vice Housewarden.”

“Oh my god! Did you come home late because you were meeting with Jamil?” There was genuine excitement in Yuuna’s voice as they perked up where they sat. “You gotta spill the beans now.”

“Only if a certain someone spills the tea on her and a certain lion.” The pillow flew back towards Cass.

“There’s nothing to spill here,” Cass retorted, catching the projectile easily.

“Oh right, by the same chance Grim will pass the next potions exam.”

“I noticed you didn’t deny that there was something going on between the two of you.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes!”

“Both of us actually!!”

It was a long night at Ramshackle. (Some say they’re still debating their terrible taste in men to this day.)

SELENE + ANGELICA + OZ (ft. Yuudai)

Of course this would happen to him of all people. If anyone was unlucky enough to accidentally delete the message stating where the film research club would be meeting and then miss Yuudai, who had forgotten his phone at the dorm that day, by a few minutes, of course it would be him. And though he knew better, when Oz was running all over campus trying to find the prefect, he started hoping to run into someone who could point him in the right direction. Which was when he quite literally ran into magift players on their way home from a gruelling practice and looking to blow off some steam. 

“Tch, I thought I smelled another beastman around,” one of them scoffed as they started crowding around Oz, making him scrunch his nose in distaste. “Turns out it was just this little runt.”

“Yer always hoppin’ all over the place, aren’t ya?” The one on the left joined in, laughing as he started jabbing his finger into Oz’s birthmark. “Why don’t ya show us a trick, ya little freak?”

“Look who’s talking.” A clear voice cut through the air. Over the guys’ shoulders Oz could spot green hair and a pair of orange antennae. Selene looked entirely unimpressed by the scene she was witnessing. The dark-skinned girl walking next to her didn’t look any happier either. “The only freaks I’m seeing are the giant idiots running their mouths for no reason. Are you having fun only picking on people smaller than you?”

“Ha? You got some kind of problem, you bug-legged freak?”

“Oh, no, you’re the only ones with some kind of problem here. Your vernacular for example,” Selene waved them off. Her voice made it clear that she was completely over this conversation and considered talking to them a waste of her time. Slipping a phial out of her pockets, she swirled its luminescent contents around with a pensive look on her face before fixing her gaze on the magift players again. “Since you never pick on anyone your size maybe I should shrink you down to the size of mice? I need to test this one anyway…”

Seeing the seriousness in her expression the guys urgently whispered between each other before deciding to scram but not without hurling a few more insults at the Pomefiore student. In response, Selene only gave them a meaningful look and her lip curled slightly at the corner.

“If I was you, I’d be careful with the cafeteria food for the next few days. Who knows what could accidentally slip in there.”

With the athletes out of sight, Oz’s shoulders finally dropped their tension and he heaved a sigh as he approached the two girls. By now, the potion had already vanished somewhere behind the width of Selene’s flowy sleeves.

“Thanks for stepping in,” Oz started, before adding a little more hesitantly, “but you wouldn’t actually spike their food, right?”

“It’s true that I’ll eventually have to give this potion to a person but I’m still perfecting the ratio of the ingredients,” Selene shrugged nonchalantly. Seeing Oz’s unconvinced expression she added with a small smile, “As long as they think there’s the chance that I would, it’s sufficient. Some people would call human experimentation at this stage unethical. And frankly, that’s more paperwork than I care to bother with, so don’t worry about it.“

“‘Those people’ are called an ethics committee, Sel, for the seven’s sake. Also quit making such jokes or Oz will think you’re being serious about it,” Angelica spoke up, exasperation and fondness mixing in her tone as she smiled at her girlfriend. As she shook her head, the star-shaped buns on her head bobbed, making various accessories in her hair glitter like stars in the night sky. Then she turned her dark eyes on Oz. “Anyway, that aside, are you okay?”

“Just a bit shaken up, but otherwise I’m fine,” he said. Absent-mindedly, one of his gloved hands traced the spot where the guy had poked him but Selene’s dual-coloured eyes caught on to the movement. Digging through her purse, she procured a compact mirror and concealer.

“Your make-up came off a little. If it makes you more comfortable, you can touch it up. It won’t be perfect but our teint is similar enough for it to pass.” Holding the utensils out to him, Oz took them from her. “The cushion’s unused if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh no, that’s not it.” Considering just leaving it at that, Oz trailed off before exhaling deeply. From all the brief times he’d talked to Angelica and Selene, he didn’t think they’d make fun of him for what he was about to say, so he plucked up his courage. “It just feels a little silly sometimes that I care so much about something like a birthmark.”

The girls exchanged a quick glance before Angelica smiled at him warmly, reaching out to hold the concealer while Oz applied it in the mirror. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, if that helps you.”

“I agree,” Selene nodded, adjusting her glasses afterwards. “We all have traits we feel insecure about, especially if others have commented unfavourably on them in the past. Some days we feel more comfortable showing them and on others we’d rather hide them from view. I think most people feel like that.”

When she took the make-up from him again, Oz couldn’t help but notice the pink colour staining her arms from the tips of her fingers to her elbow. He obviously had known it was there, but hadn’t paid it much mind up until now. Something told him Selene had personal experience in the matter as well.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Angelica spoke up again, “what happened earlier anyway? I find it hard to imagine that you wronged them somehow.”

“Oh!” Oz suddenly remembered the club meet he had to get to, so he very quickly explained his problem to the couple, who listened attentively even as he nervously thumped his foot and nearly bit his tongue. “So just when I started hoping to find anyone from the film research club, I ran into them instead.”

“Well, you found someone who can help you in the end after all. Though we’re not from the film club, Selene has something she wants to ask Vil, so we were actually just on our way to meet them.” The Ignihyde student’s voice was so light and welcoming as she spoke, it was hard to imagine she actually went to NRC. “If you want to, you can accompany us.”

“That would be a big help,” Oz took her up on the offer. 

Soon enough, the late afternoon was filled with the usual complaints levelled at teachers and classmates. Selene described how she had passed by the first year’s botany class on mandrakes recently and had nearly had a heart attack because she had thought she heard one of the plants scream, but it had turned out to be Sebek instead. The art teacher had once nearly tossed out Azul’s assignment because they hadn’t recognised it as a finished painting, Oz told them. Angelica recalled how, in her first year, they had had joint potions classes with the third years once and she had almost passed away when she was partnered up with Leona, only to barely catch his head from nodding off into the potion.

“Looks like we still made it in time,” Angelica sighed in relief as they spotted Vil assigning tasks from a distance. Turning to Oz with a smile, she brushed a stray coil out of her face. “It was fun talking to you. Makes me wonder why we haven’t interacted more before, despite all of us being second years.”

“I don’t think that’s on either of us,” Selene interjected, her antennae and the green-pink moth wings on her back fluttering in the evening breeze. “It probably has something to do with the fact that Oz hangs out with Jamil a lot and that guy has always been giving me the widest berth possible.”

“Ah… Please don’t hold it against him,” Oz tried to defend the vice housewarden, knowing how he already reacted to bugs the size of his finger. While wondering what else he could say, he heard his name being called. “Well, I’ll see you around then. And thank you again for everything.”

“You’re very welcome. And good luck with those photos!” Angelica waved him goodbye as the two made their way over to Pomefiore’s housewarden.

Selene only elegantly tilted her head down as they parted but still left him with a friendly “À bientôt.”

In the meantime, Yuudai had made his way over to him, camera already hanging around his neck as he’d no doubt gone through most of the preparations already. Despite that, he still grinned at the sophomore.

“Oz, there you are. I was already worried you had forgotten that we’re helping Vil today.”

“How could anyone possibly forget that?” Scratching his head, he decided to gloss over most of what had happened. “I just got held up a little. Anyway, what can I help you with?”

CARMILLA + MAYU

“Mayu! Just the person I was looking for~”

Looking over her shoulder for the sweet voice calling her name to find the hallway completely deserted, Mayu shook her head and turned back in the direction she was going. Only to nearly jump out of her skin as she came face to face with a pair of sharp, teal eyes.

“Sorry, did I startle you? That wasn’t my intention,” Carmilla cooed, not sounding all that sorry. The ghostly flames around her flickered mischievously as the fae fell into step next to her. “You were on your way somewhere, weren’t you? Why don’t we walk while we talk, hm? It’s been a while since we last got to chat, how are you doing? Nobody’s giving you any trouble, right?”

“Oh uhm, I’m doing fine and everyone’s very nice to me. Thank you for the concern,” Mayu answered, giving Carmilla a small smile. As they continued towards the library, the prefect fiddled with her cuff sleeves as she hesitated to say what was on her mind, before conceding. “Actually, I’m struggling with Ancient Curses at the moment. I just never seem to get them right.”

“Ancient curses, huh? I’m quite good at them, but so’s Jamil if I remember correctly.” Casting a studying glance at the girl next to her, Carmilla went on smoothly. “Haven’t you asked him for help before? I’m sure he won’t try to weasel himself out of tutoring if it’s you.”

“I did think about it,” Mayu admitted with a sigh, “but he’s been so busy lately, even more so than usual. And I don’t want to bother him.”

A gasp echoed around the hallway as Carmilla halted in her tracks at a crossroad, head whipping around to the younger girl next to her. It made Mayu stop, too, and look at her curiously. 

“Does that mean he hasn’t even been making time for you?” The fox’s usually playful expression had shifted, regarding her with eyes that had softened around the corner in sympathy. 

“No! It’s not–” Mayu immediately piped up, holding her hands up in defence. How did they end up talking about her and Jamil in the first place? “I know that he does try to make as much time for me as possible. He just has a lot on his plate at the moment.”

“Oh dear, that won’t do. Tell you what, I actually came here to ask if you want to take some clothes off my hands.” Procuring two bags stuffed full with fabrics out of thin air, the idol held them out for her to take. “They’re all products from brand deals that aren’t really my style or colour, but I thought they might look cute on you. Especially since you came here without anything you could call a wardrobe. If you end up not liking them, you can just give them back to me, I don’t want you thinking I’m just dumping my old clothes on you.”

“Oh, that’s too kind of you, Carmilla,” Mayu exclaimed, pleasantly surprised by the weighted bags now dangling off her arm. Running her fingers over the soft material lying on top, it reminded her of the comfy hoodies she regularly ‘borrowed’ from a certain someone. “I can’t wait to try them on.”

“Don’t mention it. Normally I’d just leave it at that but considering what you just told me, you should totally wear them the next time you go out with Jamil! In fact, why don’t you just ask him out the next time you see him?” And just like that, all worry was erased from Carmilla’s face and her sunshiney smile was back on as she curled a pink strand around her manicured finger. “Personally I don’t get what you see in the guy at all, but I do commend the charity work. Plus, as you said, he could reaaallllyy use a break~”

“Hm, I don’t know about asking him out all of a sudden,” Mayu contemplated, her dark eyes trailing over the bricks in the walls as she considered it. “But I would like to do something nice for him.”

“I totally support it! Oh, actually, that reminds me! There’s an upcoming festival in Foothill town, celebrating the new year. It’s always super cute and scenic.” As Carmilla spoke, the air around them filled with magic before displaying luminous scenes of people mingling in the streets of the quaint town, various foods and items in hand as the night sky was illuminated by fireworks. “You should really go and experience it for yourself. Can’t let an opportunity like this pass you by, right?”

“Right,” the prefect echoed as she watched the last wisps of the illusion fizzle out into nothingness. With newfound determination, she fixed her big eyes on the fae again. “Thank you so much, Carmilla. For everything.”

“Oh please, I hardly did anything. And about the clothes and the festival,” she leaned towards Mayu with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes, “let’s keep it a secret between the two of us, no need to credit me. Consider it my good deed of the day.”

As Mayu nodded, albeit a little confused by the request, Carmilla’s ears twitched at the sound of a familiar set of agitated footsteps. Feigning surprise as she looked down at the time of her phone, she gave the younger girl an apologetic smile.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave. It was fun catching up, we should really do it more often. For now, though, you’ll have to excuse me.” Slinking past Mayu with a wink, the soft fur of Carmilla’s tail brushed against her uniform as the pink fox disappeared the same way she had spontaneously showed up earlier. “Toodles~”

Hand half-raised to wave at the now empty hallway, Mayu took a second to process what had just happened, from beginning to end. The bags in her hand corroborated that she hadn’t just imagined it and when she looked up any events that would soon happen in Foothill Town, the festival was there too. With a shake of her head, Mayu wrote it off as just another one of NRC’s daily occurrences. Just then, someone else rounded the corner. 

“Prefect, what are you doing here?”

“Oh Jamil, hi. I was on my way to the library to look for books on ancient curses.”

“Ancient curses? I still have some notes I could lend you from my first year…”

Carmilla only caught the beginning of their conversation as it trailed off in the distance. Mayu was right when she said Jamil could do with a break. It had gotten to a point where seeing him in the morning started putting her on edge too and it made her fur stand on end. Especially when it affected the other students in the dorm as well. Palpable tension and all that. Needless to say, something had to be done about it if Carmilla wanted to go back to some relaxing peace and quiet.

No harm done by pulling a few strings if placating their vice housewarden also benefited the prefect, right?~

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[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[hanzajesthanza]

also i realize i'm saying all these noble and beautiful things about the channel from the purest depths of my heart. but actually i'm also just doing this because i fucking love the witcher books and it pisses me off that people don't know about them that much in english and i can only go for so long (seven years) with people not knowing that there are books. or that the witcher is from the 90s. or polish.

[kaythefloppa]

Enough time has passed to where I think we can openly admit how WK has gone through seasonal rot within its previous 2 seasons and how the hype of Season 7 along with the generally positive reception is a really green flag for the show's quality.

[ismyteadoneyet]

How fortunate am I to have so many Things to love and be excited about, to appreciate and look forward to?

Things I feel so strongly about that they stumble into my mind, univited, at random times of the day? Things that spill into my speech and vocabulary without me noticing? Things that impact my vision to the point where everywhere I look, everywhere I go, I see ghosts of them?

How lucky am I to have so many Things I love and cherish enough for them to reshape my very person, change my beliefs and make me grow? Things that make my own loved ones see the Things out in the wild, and go out of their way to make sure I see them too?

How wonderful is it that I have Things that I love so much that the very act is deemed and dubbed "not normal", making my love for them seem like it's more than they are supposed to recieve? An out-of-the-ordinary and above-the-norm appreciation for the Things that make the people around me shake their heads, call me "silly".

My dear, beloved Things, may I always stay silly for you ❤️

[themulitipurposechannel]

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

inspired by @goodlucktai and their incredible story “Raised on little light”

Part: Two

Tw: major character death, grief, suicide idealisation, disassociation, starvation, slight description of injuries and inaccurate medical advice

This is hope.

_

The air is much chillier today. Once upon a time, that would be the herald of their highly anticipated snow day. Emojis will flood the family groupchat, plans will be made, schedules will be cleared, homework conspicuously forgotten. But that was then. This is now.

Leo's memorial hangs above them like a haunting guillotine. It would be better if he actually was haunting this place. Anything is better than this.

"Hi" Mikey smiles weakly, trying to play off his squeak of suprise into faux causalness. "I saved you lunch."

Raph nods. "Thanks" he pokes at the reheated chicken curry and rice in silence. It's good. It always is. But it feels like ash most days.

"So how was patrol? You're not usually back this early." Mikey bless his soul. He's trying so hard.

It hurts as much as it warms the snapper's heart. His littlest brother, trying so hard to scrap together just a little more light for all of them, like he wasn’t crying himself to sleep every night, the ‘if I was just a little faster’ eating him up alive.

(Dead in the middle of the night, the snapping alligator turtle returns back from patrol and freezes just outside a colourful subway car. Soft shaking sobs, creep out from just beyond the unlit car.

Raph wants nothing more than to walk in, scoop his little brother into his arms and never let anything hurt him ever again. But the memory of pink tendrils and ‘if this is the end I want to let you know that I’m sorry’ hold him in place. Raph is not safe.

So shamefully, cowardly, like every night before this, the eldest brother turns and walks away.)

Michelangelo deserves better than this.

But Raphael is not safe.

"It was fine just... loud. You know how humans are" The snapper shrugs half-heartedly, sitting across the table from the box turtle. It was more than that. Cheerful music, parading crowd. Raph gets it, he does. By all accounts it's a good thing. A victory over the failed invasion. Humanity won, Yokai-kind won too. And knowing of it or not, the whole of earth won as well.

They have no idea what bled for them that day. What still bleeds for them to this day. Raph tries to stomach it till he couldn't no more. Grief festering in his chest till he punched a hole through an old construction site. That, was when he knew he had to head home to their dojo before he did something he regrets. Which actually... is something he should get back too. He still too angry.. he's not. Raph's not safe.

"Hah.. New York what a town right?" Mikey nudges him shyly, blind to the danger present. Raph flinches, jerking away. Raph's not safe.

"Mikey! Careful-!" The red snapper snaps immediately deflating in muted horror at the younger turtle’s grimace. What is he doing? He’s scaring him! “I-geez, sorry. sorry.” The floor is suddenly much more interesting to look at now. “Raph was just thinking of going to the dojo” The snapper sags.

"Oh okay.. I see” Mikey’s smile wobbles, at the corner of his eye, Raph can see it. “That’s.. that’s ok, big bro. have fun." His voice is pitched just a tiny bit too high. Raph doesn’t need to look at Mikey directly, years of growing up togather tell him the box turtle is barely choking back tears.

It's another stab at his already leaking heart, his baby brother always so loud with his emotions has no right being this subdued. You already leave him to cry alone. Mind Raph reminds him, firm but not cruel. Raph would really prefer it if he was. He wants you to stay. You can at least do this much.

"Actually, the dojo can wait. You got lots on your plate right?" Raph quickly pivots, motioning to the half filled sink."Raph will help you clean up" The older teen picks up his plate and starts towards the sink, still keeping a wide berth between them.

The result is instantaneous. The sun breaks through the stormy clouds. Mikey looks like he can damn near combust from how widely he is grinning, trying and failing to hide the not so subtle flutter of his hands in a happy stim.

It makes the snapper’s heart want to burst. Once, a long time ago this would be the time Raph would sweep his baby brother, sunshine personified, into a big crushing hug, a playful noogie included. But that was then. This is now.

Instead slowly, carefully, Raph reaches out and briefly pats Mikey’s head. Proud of himself for barely shaking this time. It’s such a small thing, it used to be so easy. Still Mikey gratefully drinks it all in, like a cactus to water in a desert.

“So you draw anything new?” Raph tries to ask. Immediately grimacing at the awkwardness of it all. Talking used to be so easy. What happened to them?

Luckily Mikey seems to take it in stride. Happy to talk and talk and talk about the new charcoal medium he was trying, the weird Lou jitsu memorabilia he found while cleaning (Since when did Mikey clean?? Willingly??) under the couch and the one or two grocery’s hauls done by April. No mention of Mikey begging April let him go topside with her. No mention of any junkyard trips with Donnie(not that Raph was surprised). No trips outside. No detours. Nothing.

Since when did that happen too? Distinctly Raph can remember many a time spent furiously wrangling a tiny little brother over the phone for him to come home. Because it’s getting late, the sun is coming up, Big man that alley isn’t going to run away, you can come back later please-

His little brother, for all his box turtle homing instincts, loved to explore, weather it be to discover small family shops in the hidden city or find a new spot for graffiti topside. Discovering new things was his thing, it’s what made Michelangelo, Michelangelo. Then again how much did the snapper really know of his brothers nowadays huh? He pushes that thought aside before he can dwell on it any further not wanting to sour this rare lightness.

“…And then I spent the rest of the day trying get rid of those annoying cobwebs!” Mikey shakes his head. “Dad was right we really need to clean our rafters more!” The box turtles huffs as he places a now clean plate into their cabinet.

But the last time Raph remembered dad complaining, or the tell-tale swoosh of a lab door being opened was 14 months ago.

Pizza supreme, Raph blinks, swaying a little. That was why the box turtle drank in any and all touch Raph gave. This poor kid, oh god his poor baby brother, one of their most sociable and people loving family members, technically with Leo gone Mikey was the only one now.

All alone for months on end with the only indication that he wasn’t the only living soul in the lair, was the occasional bags of food that appeared by the lair’s entrance and the empty plates by Donnie’s lab and Pop’s room. Mikey must be so, so touch starved. How long has the box turtle been doing this? How did they let this get so bad? How did they not notice? What happened to us? The eldest brother mourns. If nothing else, he resolves to at least try to give his poor, touch starved brother one head pat every other day. He’s already failed Leo and Donnie, he can’t fail Mikey too.

Unbidden, Raph can’t help but remember a time just last week, where he had punched their punching bag clean off its chain. Only to return an hour later with a new one already in its place. At that time he assumed it was Donnie (with all his all seeing cameras and regular but eerily silent maintenance to all their appliances. No more loudly complaining over who broke their toaster) who replaced it but now-

Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Raphie..? Raphala?” Mikey smiles sweetly but hesitantly. Thankfully, the box turtle seemed to learn his lesson earlier. Instead of touching the older turtle like before, Mikey taps the countertop to get Raph’s attention. “Is everything ok?”

“Oh yeh;Raph’s good.” Raph shakes his head. “Was just thinking”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Big doe eyes somehow get wider. Once upon a time that would have been enough to make Raph cave.

“Your uhm-hands are doing good.” Raph cringes, painfully adverting his gaze. Mikey scowls, with narrowed eyes that says ‘Boi you are not slick’. But the days of loud Dr Delicate touch, fearlessly climbing or latching on top of his brothers and pushing,and pushing, until they fess up are far behind them.

So instead, Mikey sighs and with a worn smile, he says. “You know you can always talk to me right Raph?”

“I.. I know.” Raph nods, beak quirking into crumpled facsimile of a smile, cuz gosh does he know. All those Dr feelings seminars. Raph shudders to himself. But this, something about their ‘this’ will always feel too much like a raw nerve or a live wire his other little brother was way too fond of playing with. Shit, he missed Donnie so much. How was it possible to miss someone who was still alive this much? Some days it really did feel like he lost two little brothers instead of one. One was already one too many.

With a shake of his head Raph forces himself back into his body. No need to space out twice now. He already promised himself he’ll try for Mikey. If Donnie, April and Dad weren’t going to be here. Raph would at least try, so that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Same goes for you too, big man” The snapper gestures to the box turtle with his chin. And he means it he does.

Mikey hums, nodding. Resuming his task.

The sound dissolves into the quiet clinking of plates and sloshing water. Not quite uncomfortable but not quite comfortable either.

“Is your eye doing ok?” Mikey ask, trying to steer them to more comfortable waters.

“It’s fine.” Raph answers, happy to take the out. “More than fine. Doesn’t ache at all actually. Just numb and a little tingly.”

“Oh mi gosh! You too?”

Surprised, Raph snaps his head towards an equally wide eyed Mikey. It breaks his heart. His little brother used to be so much louder than this. Raph tries to smile encouragingly, prompting the orange turtle to continue.

“My hands still shake sometimes. But every time I think they’re going to start hurting they just don’t” The box turtle pouts . “Even Barry was surprised. He says it’s supposed to hurt. I just feel tingly and numb too”. His face scrunches briefly, disgruntled. “-makes it hard to know when I overdo it though.” To demonstrate, Mikey wiggles all 6 fingers in a loose jazz hands gesture. Smiling slightly.

A surprised laughs tears out from the older brothers beak; equal parts exasperated and fond. He doesn’t know what why, it wasn’t really that funny. But something about the silly gesture must have reached him somewhere. Because here he is, airy and softer but still,laughing.

Delighted, Mikey giggles back. Eyes wet. How long has it been since he last heard his brother laugh?

If only Leo was here.

If only this could last forever.

But Something suffocates the precious warmth instantly

Mikey's hold on the plate shatters. It drops to the ground breaking into a million pieces.

Speak of the ghosts and the ghosts will come.

(Deep Down, beneath them, inside of them, around them, where the space of RedPurpleOrangeGreenWhite swirl around each other so close yet so far. No longer able to bear the thought of intersection but unable bear the thought of tearing away from each other.

Nonono-

Something withers. something dies.

Like the chime of Blue saying ‘Hero moves are totally your style’

Before it winks out from existence, leaving a gaping hole behind. It doesn’t even bleed. It would have been better if it at least bled. Now its just empty-

No please we can’t go through this again-)

Frantically, head partially in his chest, the box turtle staggers, looking around fearfully, spots glowing orange in alarm.

"Where-?" Mikey starts.

For the first time in months, pure big brother instinct completely overrides his anxiety, Raph grabs for Mikey. Tucking him protectively under his shoulder protectively and races towards Donnie's lab. He'll be there. The softshell never left these days.

For the first time since they laid their Blue to rest. The sliding door to Pop's room bursts open.

"Boys! How-!?” Splinter yells rushing toward them.

"We're all fine! I don't know! " Mikey cries back, slightly giddy over the most physical contact he’s gotten in months, despite the current situation. Meanwhile Raph damn near breaks down the softshell’s door. His eye twitches. “Donnie! Donnie!! Open the door!”

For the first time in months, an achingly familiar voice answers back. “I’m okay! I know! I know! Sweet Galileo I’m trying to fix it!"

The door opens with a swoosh, releasing a gust stale air into their faces. A frazzled Donnie steps out. Eyebags galore and stench of old coffee stronger than Raph’s notorious fear stink. Raph bites down the urge to lecture the teen’s bed wrangled state.

The purple teen in question, is typing furiously on his computer wrist, while his phone is tucked between his shoulder and his face. April's voice can heard from its speaker. Yelling confusion.

(Wrong wrong wrong. The shared space of their already off kilter family mystic sways dangerously. It's quiet, too quiet. Large steady Red drapes over his remaining universe tightly, shielding orangepurplegreenwhite in a protective shield.

The colours mix. They reach for each other for the first time in months both inside and outside in shared confusion and terror.

Where?

What's going on?

We're all here.

So.. why?

But then just as quickly as it came. The ringing silence is gone. Their constellation is settles back into its uncertain balance, all is well.

Huh?

Wait. Resilient Green hushes them, listen. Tentatively, they reach out to where they hadn’t thought to do before.

Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump

It's a heartbeat. One of them realises in dawning horror.

But who?

Who else can possibly be here with them that can throw them further off balance now?

An image of similarly decorated kneepads flashes in Orange's mind. He pushes that image to the rest.

Guys. Casey.

On que, the teal heartbeat flatlines.

Oh no.

Before it staggers to its feet. Irregular and slow.

Alien relief washes over them. It wrestles with well-worn distrust and bitterness.)

“We need to find future boy.” Pops states, voice raspy from a year of disuse and places a hand on Donnie’s arm. The sudden contact nearly startles the softshell into dropping his phone. Not that Raph can blame him. He can scarcely believe dad is here either. “He owes us some answers”

In the end, they decide to split up to cover more ground. Unsurprisingly, the future protoge found a way to disable Future Donnie’s comm line. Or at least found a way to undo whatever Donnie did to sync future boy’s comm to their comm system. So contacting him directly is not an option.

It takes two hours. One wild goose chase and trying so hard to listen a nigh invisible heartbeat. When April (what would they ever do without her) points out, “Hey didn’t future boy say they lived in caves?”

Before they focus their efforts solely to the underground. Mikey took the sewers, Raph in the underground maintainance tunnels and April and Splinter in the abandoned train stations while Donnie continued to search the city’s database for any more underground structures they could check.

It’s been 3 more hours since then and one more cliff-hanging flatline.

The snapper rubs at his unseeing eye, annoyed. If he knew it was going to start aching today he would have taken some pain meds.

A creaking noise grabs his attention.

Raph looks up, seeing a half loose ceiling panel swaying in the drafty tunnel. He can’t fit. Maybe April or Mikey can. But they’re halfway across the city’s underground sector. Do it scared, do it scared. It seems today was just full of pushing past his fear huh?

So standing on his tiptoes, Raph sticks his head up the hole, his breath hitches. The smell alone makes his eyes water.

There, nestled between the tunnel’s false ceiling and actual ceiling is his little brother's killer, the one locked the door on his Leo while there was a monster with his little brother on the other side, (nevermind the fact that Leo asked him too) surrounded by rotting rat carcasses and so much more impossibly thin and still, if it weren’t for the flagging teal he’d think the boy was already dead.

Raph doesn’t know if it’s because of the revelation of distant family or the boy’s pitiful state or because of his years spent as the eldest brother, the one who is the biggest, the one who takes care of them all. Oh he's too small, Raph can’t help but think.

This is their family Ninpo. It runs on love and trust: Even at the height of their ancestor's obession with martyrdom, there had been love and trust buried in there somewhere. The family mystic wouldn't have survived to their current generation otherwise.

But Casey’s is not buried in the ground. It is not the kind that martyrs their own at the first opportunity. Not even for good reason.

It wells a confused pity, soured by residual anger. future boy; all alone. Displaced in a timeline not his own and disowned by the only remnants of familiarity.

Gingerly, carefully and trying not to have a panic attack over the prospect of prolonged contact. Deep breaths. Just take deep breathes. You’re the only one who can do this. Breathe. You picked up Mikey, and he was fine. you can do it again. It’s just for a little while. Trembling down to a manageable level, Raph then lifts the unconscious human up and down through the rafter hole. The movement causes stained, loosely tied bandages to slip, and the stench goes from bad to downright horrendous.

The overpowering smell of sewer and pus nearly makes him drop the kid into dirty sewer water and gag. Which is saying something cuz Raph grew up in the sewers. The snapper is no medic, but pizza supreme, he knows humans aren’t supposed to be this warm nor is their flesh is supposed to leak yellow or swell such an angry red.

Holding the boy at arms length, Raph lifts his comms to his face. “I found future boy. Heading back to the lair now. He’s hurt bad.” If he sounds a little breathless no one points it out. He doesn’t stay long enough the rest of the group’s verbal assent. There are too many thoughts in his head. Raph doesn’t know what to feel as he walks back through the dark tunnels.

.

.

.

It’s 3am when the search finally concludes, too long since the mutant turtles and rat last ate lunch and too late for April to make the journey back to her apartment.

She stays overnight for the first time since that day. The group stand around the living room in silence. The rush of trying to stabilise the med-bay-bound time traveler is finally over and with it, their crushing spector returns with a vengeance.

“Well, I guess I’ll go get dinner started then!” Mikey smiles nervously, ducking out to escape to the kitchen. “I hope you guys don’t mind lasagna !” He calls.

Sharing one last glance, the rest disperse. No words need to be said, they all know their roles. Even months apart and drowning in unnatural silence, cannot wash away the years of laying this foundation.

April grabs the plates and utensils, Raph and Donnie start to round up the assortment of beanbags and chairs scattered across the lair and bring it to the table while Splinter hovers near the kitchen doorway, in case Mikey needed him. He was the only one, save April or occasionally Raph, who Mikey trusted in his kitchen. They were supposed to be banned together. Set of a pair.

“Ah” April chokes up, freezing mid-plate placement. Worried, Donnie walks over, leaving Raph to set the last beanbag. “April what’s wrong?”

In response, a strangled gasp (it sounds suspiciously like tears) escapes from his older sister, she shakes her head unable to continue. The soft shell frowns and begins counting the plates with his hand. One, Two, Three.. yes, there were six plates. Donnie doesn’t see the issue, six plates for six people-himself, April, Dad, Raph, Mikey, Le- Oh. His hand drops. Suddenly the cold tiles beneath him go from unnoticeable to digging pins and needles into his heels. Hurts, hurts everything hurts.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” April shakes, She’s crying, Donnie is frozen. His heart beats a rabbit quick. Donnie doesn’t know what to do. He can’t do. His other half is gone, His big sister rarely ever cries, the faint sounds from the kitchen are too much.I can’t do this. It’s all too much.

The softshell doesn’t realise he’s hyperventilating till a solid warmth rests on his shoulders.

“Donnie? Dee..? Hey. It’s ok. Copy me and Mikey ok? Deep breath in, deep breath out”

A deep rumbling churr and a raspingly familiar lullaby, one that he hasn’t heard since he was a tot, joins them in the undertone.

He forces his breaths to slow. Safe. You are safe.

Squeezing the tears from his eyes. His vision clears, and somehow the softshell finds himself sitting on the ground with a weighted blanket draped on him. April is kneeled in front to him, Mikey and Splinter beside her. While Mikey and her exaggerate their breaths for him to follow. His father’s lullaby draws to a close. Come back

Behind him, his big brother shivers, still churring, a comforting presence no blanket can ever achieve.

Confused, Donnie arches a brow at his younger brother and father. Weren’t they supposed to be in the kitchen?

Familiar with his nonverbal gestures, Mikey speaks softy, for the softshell’s comfort. “You know how dad is. Pointy ears and all. He heard you hyperventilating, I saw him try to leave.. well you know.” The box turtle shrugs. “Dinner’s already in the oven, it’ll be fine.”

It’s truly a testament to how off-kilter everyone is, when Dad refrains from using his tail to smack the youngest for the ears comment.

Donnie nods stiffly, still not quite able to push past the weight holding his tongue.

He feels naked, exposed. Yet…somehow his body feels more relaxed and unwound than it has ever been in months, as if finally awoken from a long dream. For the first time, Donnie turns and lets his eyes wander around their lair, truly look at it. Not shamble through its halls during the witching hours half dead and with a single minded focus on: coffee, fix the occasional appliance, and returning to his lab.

The cobwebs by the rafters are gone. The playstation controllers are neatly stacked, the floor. The floor. A chill creeps back up his feet and into his hands. Gone is the stubborn layer of dust, dirt and crumbs that somehow always managed to coat the floor. It’s clean. It not supposed to be clean. Not even with three teenage boys.

I have become a ghost in my own home. The softshell blinks, dazed. How much has he missed? The genius wonders with no small amount of dread.

Mikey cocks his head to the side, cautiously curious. “Do you want to talk about it? Signing works too.”

The softshell’s feels his shoulders rise, ice all over. gone.gone. Gone. Six plates. A broken set. How he could be possibly explain this? How could he possibly articulate that kind of agony.

Sensing the return of the younger boy’s spiral, April shoulder checks him, disrupting the thought train. “It’s my fault. I was setting the table but then I realised-” Her voice wavers, but no new tears spill out. “- I realised I grabbed six plates”

Grieving understanding darkens everyone else’s face.

“Yeah.” April laughs sardonically. “I’m being a terrible big sister right now aren’t I?”

Donnie frowns, vermantly. As does everyone else in protest.

“April no..”

“That’s not true-”

“Green..”

“Guys stop.” She holds her hands up , Let me finish. She adds unspoken. They let her. Because when April O’Neil wanted to say something you listened.

“You guys don’t have to make me feel better ok? I know.” She whispers, wrapping her arms around herself in some modicum of comfort. “You’re my family.” The 19 year old cries heartbroken, bowing her head in shame. “You’re my family, you guys needed me and I avoided this place like the plague. Because it hurt too much to be here.” Unspoken their eyes drift to Leo’s memorial before returning back to each other.

“You were hurting…” Raph offers up, no longer churring.

“We’re all hurting! That doesn’t make it an excuse!” April hisses, snapping up to meet the second eldest’s gaze. Her eyes fierce even with a fresh set of tears. The snapper shrinks.

The human crumbles too, instant regret colours her face. “Oh, big guy I’m so sorry.” Gently, slowly she reaches out a tentative hand to the largest turtle. He leans into it, only to draw back at the very last second.

She presses lips into a thin line to keep herself from crying harder. April nods, eyes flashing in pained understanding. She sighs, steeling herself and then continues.

“When that void hit our Ninpo.. again” they all grimace in mutual disgust . “Fuck.. I was terrified. it was like being stuck on the ground again where we had to watch Leo, except worse.” She cups her hands to her face. “Because this time, I stayed away on purpose.”

“What if it wasn’t Casey? But one of you ?” She looks off into the distance, haunted. “What if the last memory you all had of me was off the worst day of our lives, instead of me telling you guys how much I love you. Because I do.” She says, wrecked with grief. But also love Always love. “Splints you’re my weird uncle, and you boys are my little brothers. I can’t lose you guys.”

Unable to contain himself anymore, Mikey loops his arms around her waist and burrows into her side. She reciprocates eagerly, wrapping an arm around her youngest brother and pulling him closer. “You’re not the only one who was pulling away.” The box turtle says sadly.

To the side, the former actor turned father and current Hamato patriarch says nothing, he watches his beloved sons and niece(?)semi-ward(?), (bah, doesn’t matter she’s family) silently. Deep in thought.

“Michel’s right.” Donnie chimes in, finally able to get his tongue working. They all look to him with varying degrees of suprise. Which is fair, he’s not exactly the picture of emotional vulnerability or mental health. None of them are. Donnie swallows down a lump. He does not want to do this. Newton’s beard does he not want to do this.

But his home is being warped around him. There is sterility where there should be chaos. Mikey is withdrawn, Raph is touch adverse, April is crying and Papa has not once complained bout missing any off his TV shows. We’re breaking. Donnie realises with hysterical dread. They’re barreling to the point of no return, and if something doesn’t give soon, they might be too far gone from themselves and each other, to ever fit back together.

He’s already bleeding out from the space where his twin used to be. Losing them like this, in any form will truly be the final gun shot to his brain. And they definitely won’t survive losing his genius either.

“I don’t.. I don’t think I know what to do with myself without Leo around.” He shifts uneasily, adverting his eyes from his family. “But I don’t want to leave you guys alone.” He grimaces, picking at his nails in nervous tick. “And I know.. leaving per se, isn’t what Leo would want. So as I’m sure as some of you know..” Donnie casts what he hopes is an apologetic look to Raph and Mikey. The ones he was sure felt his absence most keenly, like it or not, his father and him had very similar coping mechanisms, ie: drowning themselves in whatever be it TV shows or inventing to distract themselves from reality. “..I try to keep myself busy.” The softshell finishes.

Raph pales at the implication. “Donnie..” he says pained, but doesn’t make a move to hold the soft shell. Instead his hands brush against the younger teen’s shoulders tense and longing. Donnie tries not to take it personally.

He feels his dad’s tail wraps around his waist and squeeze. “I am so sorry, my son.”

Tearing up, Mikey slowly unwinds himself from April and holds out his arms in invitation. Donnie leans forward and the box turtle pulls Donnie into a hug, squeezing him with all the fierce, warm love only the sun like him can give. “Thank you for telling us. And thank you for staying.” His little brother says fiercely.

“I can never leave you all without my genius” He hugs Mikey back. Because it is true. Leo is his other half. But his whole world has always been made up of RaphLeoMikeyAprilPapa and the numerous tiny planets that made up his love for science and mechanical engineering.

It’s funny really. The genius locked himself in his lab, threw himself into home security, and chipped away at the backlogs of blueprints that had accumulated over the years, all in an effort to slow the bleeding. There could be no space for grief and the ‘just a little left and you can join him’ if he worked himself to exhaustion.

It kept him from thinking. It kept him in stasis. It kept him and his katana-sharp grief from spilling out and poisoning his beloved family. But he already did, didn’t he? For all his genius he failed to account how his absence was a poison too.

Yet this small pocket of family comforting him, helping him through his recent meltdown has done more to warm the chill and bandage the wrongness of gone gone gone-Something intrinsic to Hamato Donatello is gone- than any machine or programme he worked himself to death making.

Truthfully, Donnie doesn’t know if he can ever truly live with being half of a whole or a piece of his world gone, but for his remaining world, he’s willing to try. Besides, wasn’t Excascale computing becoming global soon? He definitely wants to try and stick around for that.

April rests her head on his shoulder, “Oh Dee.. we are so going to find you a therapist.”

“Preferably one with at least 4 doctorates.” He quips back, half joking-half serious.

Her eyes blaze determinedly with all the fire she was so famous for. “Consider it done.” Big sister of the whole wide world.

“Raph can look in the hidden city too.” Raph volunteers. “I’ll help too.” Donnie feels Mikey nod enthusiastically.

Despite everything, Donnie feels a small twitch upwards at his beak the first touch of a smile since that day. This.. this was still good.

“Actually..” after a brief pause, Mikey pipes up, nervously. “Since we’re all sharing something today, is it ok if I say something too?”

“Go for it.”

“Of course.”

“Always”

“Ok..ok I’m gonna do it.”Nervous, the youngest drums his fingers along Donnie’s battleshell. The softshell tsks, extending two metal claws from his shell to grab the younger’s hands. “Sorry.” Mikey shrinks.

“It’s fine. Just grip the claws instead.” The purple branded teen instructs, not breaking the hug. Mikey nods, and then proceeds to white knuckle the offered claws so tightly, the metal begins to creak. It makes the older brother want to shove the younger away and scream my baby! But it’s been a literal year since he has last seen his little brother (jeezus how did he let it get this bad) so Donnie resists; just this once.

“So..” Mikey takes a deep shuddering breath, “I don’t want you guys to take this the wrong way. I love you guys. I love to cook for you guys, I promise.” He looks to April,Splinter,Raph pleadingly.

“And I know you’re all hurting so I don’t mind handling the chores myself either.” He smiles wobbly. Shock briefly paints Donnie and Splinter’s face. Raph hunches inward and April’s looks away, ashamed. So that was who deep cleaned their floor and cleared out the webs. The mutant rat concludes heartbroken. He gently cups his son’s face. Mikey leans into it.

The floor alone would have taken days. How lonely must his son have been? Splinter mourns.

“B-but it gets really hard sometimes and I’m sorry.” Mikey hiccups, big fat tears rolling down his face. Forming a damp patch on the softshell’s shoulder that he bravely tolerates. “A-and I know I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s my fault Leo-”

Oh no. Oh hell no. Not their youngest.

The explosion of protests is violent.

“Baby, no.” April gasps horrified.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.” Donnie hisses, wrenching Mikey away by his shoulders and shaking him.

“But if I was just a little faster-” The box turtle shakes.

“Orange, you did everything you could”

“But you guys-” Mikey whimpers.

“No.” Raph growls, clenching his fists. “ just because we’re hurting doesn’t mean anything. We are relying a bit too much on you. You cook for all of us. You’re the only one who keeps our home clean,” Raph places a light hand atop his little brother head. He has to say this, he has to. For Mikey. And.. for himself. “And Leo..” They all flinch. “Leo made his own choices.” Raph sags. “So please, don’t hurt my baby brother by blaming him for things out of his control.”

“But.. what about you?” Mikey wobbles

“Huh?” Raph tilts his head to the side.

“Do you blame yourself?” Point blank when he wants to me.

There is silence. The snapper recoils back stung. Raph for as big as he is, feels smaller than ever. “It’s not the same. You were trying to help. But I..”he hands his head low. “I hurt you guys.”

A chorus of protest break out again.

“It wasn’t you!”

“Literally impossible. You? The guy who feeds stray cats?”

“It was the Krang!”

“I know that!” Raph snaps. “It’s so stupid I know. The krang did it, not me.” The snapper grips his head. “But I’m the strongest and the biggest. And everything I close my eyes I see..” the red turtle shakes,staring down at his hands. “I don’t need mind control to hurt ya guys. If I mess up..” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling. “ I.. I’m supposed to take care of you bozos.”

“Oh big guy.. We’re supposed to take care of each other.” This time not to be deterred. April wraps her arms around his large arm. It burns, but he can’t bear to shake her off, not after so long. “if nothing else, you and I promised remember? We would share.” Her eyes glimmer again with new tears.

(A lifetime ago, tucked away in a little corner away from where little brothers are sleeping.

A 11 year old and 10 year old lie nestled against each other. “Thanks for helping to get my brothers to sleep. Raph’s really sorry for this. They always get so fussy when they’re sick.” He grumbles, tucking his head between his knees.

The girl giggles. “Psh~ I already said it’s fine. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

“But I’m the oldest.” The boy protests.

“Uhh no. I’m the oldest. Im 11.” She rolls her eyes. Beaming “I’m always happy to help if you want?”

“Really?” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

“Well duh,” The girl grins, not yet realising just how far she will go or the magnitude she will carry for her soon-to-be family. But her mum always said she could do anything. So she will endure, gladly for them. “What are friends for?” )

Seeing the lack of protest this time, Mikey and Donnie take that opportunity to pull away form each other and encircle their big brother on either side.

“We’re with you always raphie.” Mikey hugs.

“Yeah. Yeah What he said.” Donnie, opting to rest his hand against his older brother.

“You guys..” Raph sniffs, bending down to be closer to his siblings.

“My sons, my family..” Splinter stands and joining the rest of his family at last. They all turn to face him. “This past year has been hard on us all. With our blue..” The elderly man stutters, chest hurting. “-it will likely always be hard on us. Which is why more than ever we have to press in. I know I have not been the best father, but as the head of the household and the adult, I should have known better than to leave you all to your hurts.” Splinter kneels, dogeza style. “I am truly and deeply sorry. Please I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. No matter what happens, from now on I promise, I will do my very best to be here now.”

“Dad..”

“Pops..”

“Oh Splints.”

“I don’t normally feel things but that one got through.”

“Donnie really?” April chuckles weakly, rolling her eyes. The softshell doesn’t quite feel up to smiling yet, so he shrugs instead. Leo wasn’t here anymore. Someone has to do it.

“Cmon guys, Pop’s is right.” Raph huffs affectionately, he still doesn’t feel quite so comfortable to hug them all back. But he’s not pulling away and that means everything. “No more. We have to stick together.”

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” Mikey beams, wiping away the tears.

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” the rest of them echo back. Pressing closer to each other again.

“Wait.” Donnie stiffens, pulling away. “Angelo how long has your lasagna been in the oven?”

“My lasagna!” With a shriek and a jump, Mikey tears himself away from the group and races towards the kitchen.

He doesn’t get far, stoping just shy of the doorway when the Smoke detector goes off with vengeance. Followed by a BOOM! And the tell-tale glow of yellow-orange flames lick at the doorway.

“Orange! What did you put in that lasagna!”

“I don’t know! It’s never done this before!”

“The fire exstinghisher! Someone get the fire exstinguisher!”

“FIRREEEFIIGGHTTTIINGG LIKE A BOSSSS!”

“Wait! No no no! Raph! That’s the turbo mo-”

Peals of laughter break through the halls amidst the smouldering fire and smoke and clouds of demineralised water particles.

For the first in a long, long time the lair feels less a living tomb and more a home.

They think Leo might be proud.

<Prev | Next>

[thatonegayship]

I loved the cowboy comic so much that I wrote a oneshot for it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50934235 🥺 your art is BEYOND amazing, ty for the food

INCREDIBLE!!!!!

[whirlybirdwhat]

engineering is just. so fun. cause every time u think you understand how physics works you just get new symbols and new equations and have to learn it all over again

[seventh-district]

.

[doodlebeeberry]

what implications do u think the amelia investigations episode (possibly) being last has......

thinking about it im not sure implications is the word i was really looking for, rather i think theres like. a particular weight, to me, in placing her episode as the last one (presuming, of course, that there are only 5 episodes in investigations like is generally whats being assumed. for all we know though there could be more than that but thats the assumption im working off of)

ive always read the lack of any particularly tangible details about her pre-plane life, let alone the lake of an actual disappearance scene for her, as a means of further alienating her from her previous life. It drives in this wedge between Amelia and Scenty, such that even though shes probably the most vocal (at least throughout s1) about wanting to go home, her desire is countered by the fact that pretty much her entire existence in the show is defined by exclusively her time on the plane. The lack of a background for her (as absolutely crazy as it drives me) does play a pretty notable role in how her relationship to earth and the plane and herself are laid out.

This, in my mind, creates a bit of an interesting situation for investigations to play with. seemingly, investigations kinda requires an exploration into everyone's pre-plane lives, a certain insight into their lives that amelia just doesnt have. so, unless they do something a bit radical in the presentation of that episode in particular, youd have to explore her old life on some level without undermining the dynamic with it that we already have. I guess the most obvious answer is that it wont be amelia telling her own story to the audience. We wont be hearing her explain or be in her perspective, we'll be hearing from (presumably) garret. Its a story about her that isnt her story to tell. even when we do finally get to see it, her life, her disappearance isnt hers. not really. and i think placing it last in the sequence, the final mystery to unravel, the hardest answer to get, implies at the very least an acknowledgement of that.

but i do have a degree in Reading Into Things so like. who knows. maybe thats just what i want

[sp4ceboo]

rant but im a bit scared im going to get attacked

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent things and such~