#i swear some people act like splinter is the worst person imaginable

[thatlovelydove]

#turtle files: ask#like ppl are literally not required to like him#i totally understand when you dont#but to completely erase canon evidence of his nurturing moments just rubs me the wrong way#doesnt help that he is a parent of color and they already get judged harshly enough as is

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EXACTLY!!!!

hi i know this was a few days ago but i just saw your post about the rottmnt fandom parentifying raph and i reckon you hit the nail on the head. esp since raph is literally 1-2 years older than his brothers????? this isn’t a case of “eldest sibling left to take care of far younger ones in lieu of responsible parent”, this is “eldest sibling looks out for slightly younger siblings because that’s just what siblings Do”, even if he’s leaning a bit on the overprotective side.

see that wouldnt bother me as much if it didnt come at the cost of erasing all of Raph‘s personality.

bc it probably is true that he picked up some slack, that he gained an overprotective streak in a clumsy attempt to help Splinter so he wouldnt have to worry as much. Splinter is no saint; depression and trauma changes people, you get lost in your head more often than not, some days you dont even wanna move, but you have to bc there are four little lives depending on you. but to take this part of Splinter and make it his whole personality completely erases the fact that he loves his sons fiercely and it is that love that keeps him from committing to their training fully since a lot of grievances are tied to his upbringing under the Hamato name.

obviously ppl are free to project and cope with media how they like, that ain’t any of my business and thats what fanworks are for, but it‘s gotten to the point that it‘s become such a widely accepted fanon that ppl perceive as canon and THAT is what grates on me. Raph looking out for his brothers and being worried about his father‘s increasing distance from them has somehow turned into „the bros call Raph Dad and Splinter doesnt care about them“ which is literally one of the WORST cases of media illiteracy i had to witness. it‘s like ppl cant accept that Splinter wasnt 100% perfect or 100% evil and literally just is an okay-ish parent who‘s trying his best and made a lot of mistakes but there is no question that he genuinely loves his kids very much.

[kylermalloy]

So, I'm curious, what is your favourite TO episode? If you are able to make a choice ;)

Oh, oh! This is one ‘favorites’ question I have no problem answering.

My favorite episode is and has always been the season 1 finale, “From a Cradle to a Grave.” Honestly, I think this is where the show peaked in its writing. I was on the edge of my seat the entire episode, just loving the excitement, the tension, the themes, and all the narrative threads coming together in one culminating, sweeping episode.

This episode is everything I love about the show. Murder, mayhem, and family :) But seriously! (Omg am I going to have to do a blow-by-blow of the episode? I think I might.)

In that case, the rest goes under a cut. (Spoilers for TO ahead!)

The episode begins with Hayley giving birth, induced by the witches who betrayed Klaus. It’s in the church, that unholy horror of a murder museum.

Intercut with the rose-tinted flashback of pregnant Hayley and Klaus feeling their baby kick, Hayley gives birth as her voiceover promises a safe home and family to “Zoe…or Caitlyn, or Angela.”

*irony* but it hurts.

Klaus and Hayley are, for once, united in the fight for their child. They’ve been at each others’ throats all season, and in the past neither have had trouble getting their way. But in this crucial hour neither the Original hybrid or the uncontrollable mama wolf can do anything.

Can I say: I love love LOVE that look Klaus and Hayley share after the baby is born. Hayley asks to hold her, and they share this…look. Listen, I’m not much of a klayley shipper, but their partnership is golden. They’ve reached a tentative agreement at this point that they’re both going to play a role in raising the baby they created. The trust and pride and satisfaction between them in this moment, despite the horrid circumstances, melts me.

And then Hayley dies.

Klaus screaming NOOOOOOO is all of us in this moment.

Oh! And I almost forgot—Klaus being pinned to the wall in that Christlike pose. That was NOT an accident. It helps tie in to the larger theme they’re going for, that Elijah expounds for us later. He’s not a sinless, perfect Christ figure—in fact, he’s the opposite. He’s the monster under the bed, the devil in the night. One might even go so far as to say he’s the symbol for everyone to pin their problems to. The ultimate scapegoat. Not to say he didn’t exert some effort of his own to get there��this is the price he has to pay for his sins. Crucified, figuratively, forced to watch helpless as his newborn daughter is taken from him and her mother slaughtered.

Then Elijah bursts in. (Bless Daniel Gillies’s funky lil run, it gives me joy in the bleakest of times)

And this, oh goodness, this quiet grief they share over Hayley. Klaus has held her body since he woke up, I’m guessing, this woman who carried his child, chafed against every controlling measure he tried to impose on her, whom he holds some degree of respect and fondness for.

And Elijah, dear Elijah. He pinned all his hopes (hee) to this woman, this werewolf Madonna and her child. He gave her more space in his heart than he’d given anyone, including women who’d haunted him for centuries. And now she’s dead, just like anyone who’s had the misfortune of sparking his affections.

Klaus healing Elijah—HEY REMEMBER EARLY IN THE SEASON WHEN KLAUS BIT ELIJAH AND LEFT HIM TO SUFFER?! Now, Klaus offers his blood without compunction, without hesitation. This time it’s Elijah who hesistates. You have to wonder, is he deliberating which nightmare he would prefer—the torture of wolf venom, or the torture of Hayley’s death and her baby’s disappearance?

“You were bested? My invincible brother?”

Klaus doesn’t rise to the bait like he normally would. He barely reacts. He’s broken. He wanted too much—he played king and gained the whole world, but lost his soul. And then his kingdom.

You see why I love this episode?

We move to the graveyard, where we see not only Klaus and Elijah trapped in a maze, but the witches preparing for a sacrifice. Let’s not gloss over their costume change, either—in the church, for the birth, they were all clad in black. But here, as they prepare for their worst atrocity yet, infanticide, they wear pure white, like they’re going to a christening or something. *irony*

Then comes *the speech* from Elijah, the one that mirrors the pilot so perfectly (I know them both by heart, thank you very much.) In the pilot, Elijah’s speech is rousing, patient, and encouraging. Here, he has lost his patience. Here, he tells us what we’ve been seeing throughout the entire season.

“This is the world you created, Niklaus. All your scheming, the enemies you have made every day do your miserable life—what results did you expect? That your child would be born into a happy life? That the mother would be alive, to know her daughter? That we could live and thrive as some sort of family?”

“That was your fantasy, brother, not mine—”

“No, brother! This was our hope. This was our family’s hope. And now she is gone.” (And then we realize that he’s not just mourning the baby, that family he imagined—he mourns Hayley.) “Do you understand? I let this person in. I let her in. I don’t let people in.”

And Klaus’s reaction! This Klaus, with compassion he deserves only for his closest family—this is the Klaus that melts me. This is the scene that slaps. This is how we tie a bow on a season—nay, a millennium—of brotherly tension. They’re not healed; nothing could truly heal the damage they’ve done to each other (or the damage others have wrought on them) but it’s a start.

And Hayley wakes.

Before I go on, let me mention Marcel. Ally, enemy, friend, surrogate son to Klaus (and that could be all in one episode!) He’s destined for death by hybrid venom, having led his vampires into a massacre. All his attempts to rally his people have failed. He’s lost the city, and his vampires have been slaughtered by Guerrera werewolves. He has almost nothing left.

He goes out, armed to forcibly obtain Klaus’s blood and heal his friends—but he upon finding Klaus he makes very on-brand choice. He saves the baby.

He does what the combined efforts of Klaus, Hayley, and Elijah can’t. He wins Klaus’s trust back by saving his newborn daughter. He protects the innocent instead of contributing to the feud. He murders the girl he once tried to save from the Harvest. And he gets to meet his baby sister.

It’s strategy and heart all in one. It’s very Marcel.

He reconciles with Klaus, and Klaus heals him. They are healed—to some degree.

Then Klaus gets to hold his child for the first time, and we all die.

This is what the season has been building up to. Yes, it’s been building to Klaus being toppled off his throne, yes it’s been building to the splintering of his ego, but THIS is what we’ve been promised since the beginning—before the beginning of the show, even. The Original hybrid, brought to his knees by this child. His child. Someone he loves without reservation. Someone who doesn’t fear him. Someone innocent, who carries none of the burdens of their family. Someone who inspires hope in the hopeless. Someone he would kill for, or die for. (he does both)

And I can’t, I just can’t with them. I love the way JoMo handles the baby in this episode—very gingerly, a little awkwardly. It’s probably been a long time since Klaus has handled a baby (one that he hasn’t eaten D: ) and it’s just. so. endearing.

Meanwhile, Davina has…brought Mikael the destroyer back to life? I remember reading somewhere that Josh was supposed to die in this episode, and while I wouldn’t dare wish to deprive Josh of the happiness (and subsequent heartbreak) awaiting him in s2 and beyond, I think Davina’s motivations would’ve made more sense here if she were seeking to avenge her friend’s death. But I digress. Davina resurrects Mikael. Oh dear.

I haven’t mentioned Genevieve yet! She is one of my favorite antagonists. At first, she seemed to come out of nowhere, and I suspect she might have stepped into the narrative hole that was originally filled by Sophie Deveraux, but regardless I like her conflict. A witch cheated out of life (by an Original, no less!) and coerced to murder by her coven, living and dead. An apologetic killer. Yikes.

Klaus and Elijah then discuss how to protect the baby (and I swear in the opening shot it looks like they’re holding hands—but alas, it’s just a trick of the camera angle.) and Hayley helps them determine that they need to send her away. And let me say, Phoebe Tonkin impressed me more with her acting in seasons 2-3, but she hurts me here too. Ouch.

We get a few expository scenes—Francesca spins the werewolf attack into a gang war (she’s not wrong), Marcel makes a deal, Oliver is still an arrogant brat, and Davina plans to keep Mikael as her secret weapon (you poor child).

Then we get the most painful scenes in the episode, because even though we know this tragedy is a lie, it’s still a loss. The baby did not die, but their pain over losing her is real. Elijah says as much: “grief, after all, is grief.”

Klaus and Cami share a scene, and this is one of my favorites of them. Klaus admits that he finds her…beautiful. And for that reason, she should stay away from him. Whether you read this as romantic or not, it’s still so good. This is a woman Klaus pinpointed as being useful, intelligent, insightful, and strong enough to handle his psyche. They began with a rather twisted relationship (let’s save that essay on autonomy for another day, shall we?) but by the end of the season they’ve shared some experiences and gained more sympathy and respect for each other. And Klaus, in his moment of clarity and grief, recognizes that he is fundamentally not what she needs. (Or we could say this is all part of the lie. We’ll never know.)

Also, let me give a shoutout to the music in this episode! The two songs that play toward the end, Open Hands and Shallows are stellar. Speaking of the end! Let’s get into the biggest surprise this episode has for us.

“In what world will she be safe without her father? Who can protect her better than we?”

“There is one person.”

Rebekah. The thousand-year-old beauty queen I honestly thought we’d never see again after her exit in episode 16. The Original sister, the girl who loved too easily, who broke her brother’s heart and incurred his wrath. Who left to live her own life, who only could leave after her favorite brother set her free. Who always wanted what she couldn’t have, a family of her own.

And here she is, smiling at Klaus even though last time they screamed themselves hoarse in a graveyard and he put an enchanted stake through her chest, inches from her heart. She loves and hates him in equal measure, but she has nothing but love for this newborn baby. It’s a peace offering and the ultimate gesture of faith. Klaus could not trust anyone else in the world with his daughter, but he will hand her over to his beloved sister. It is the PERFECT way to end the season, especially with their parting words. Rebekah wants to know the baby’s name.

“Hope. Her name is Hope.”

They’ve been planning this gimmick from day ONE, I’m telling you. Ever since the pilot, when Elijah asks, “who’s more pathetic—the man who sees hope to make his family whole again? Or the coward who only sees the world through his own fear?” And I don’t care how cliche and gimmicky it is—if I did, I wouldn’t be watching this CW show. It’s perfect. This is what the baby means. She is the hope for this broken, broken family. She’s no savior—she doesn’t have to do anything but exist. But she reminds these siblings who, after a thousand years of bloodshed and fighting, are “the definition of cursed—always and forever,” that they can be better. They don’t have to remain the shells of who they were. They can pick up the pieces and begin a new chapter.

And that’s what this episode does for me, folks. It’s honestly too much to handle. I cannot watch this episode like a normal person—I writhe and scream and laugh maniacally and recite the lines. It’s a trip.

This episode concludes the season so strongly. It’s actually a major part of why I rank season 1 as my favorite! I did an official ranking of all 5 TO seasons a while back, which was a lot of fun.

[literallyjustanerd]

In His Eyes (Chapter 6)

I knew it would happen. It always does. I feel a week behind, but to make up for it, here’s the longest chapter yet!

Genre: Slow build/eventual romance Word count: 3852 Pairing: Nightcrawler/Angel Rating: T+

You can also read this chapter (and all previous chapters) here!

It is early in the morning, the sun still lying in wait deep below the horizon, and Warren wakes in his room still drunk from the previous night. He is disoriented, dizzy, and on top of that, horribly confused by the dream that has woken him. Even as he lies there in the dark, breath hitching in a dry throat, the details of the dream slip away like smoke through his fingers. He can still latch onto some of what happened in the dream, even though he isn’t sure he wants to. 

For a moment, as the dream had taken place right there in his room, the line between reality and fantasy had blurred, especially within the walls of his liquor-addled brain, leaving him bewildered, arms feeling around him for something that he knows is not there, could not have been there. Once his mind has slowed and he makes sense of his surroundings, Warren begins tentatively to open the gates and let the dream back in, little by little letting it wash over him until it covers him completely.

In his dream, he is lying in bed. He has woken from a nightmare, one like many he has experienced before, all fire and sparks and scraping metal screaming downwards, downwards, and always cutting out at the moment of impact. It strikes Warren as somewhat pitiful that these nightmares have become so routine to him that they have begun appearing within other dreams. He is frantic, as usual, and tries to calm himself, as usual. But the sharp turn away from reality comes when he hears a soft voice rise from next to him, hushing him, soothing him. “It’s okay,” the voice says, and Warren believes it. In the dark he can scarcely see anything, just shapes moving and sheets rustling, and soon enough, he feels a hand on his waist, running up and down from the base of his wing to the ridge of his hip. The voice continues, whispering words of comfort from lips that Warren could not see, though they seemed mere inches from his ear. The sound is like a lullaby, calming the stormy seas that churn in Warren’s veins. “Come here,” the voice instructs, and Warren bends to it. The hand on his waist firms, pulling him forward, and he obliges, finding himself pressed into a warm chest and enveloped in strong, steady arms that he still cannot see. A sense of peace comes over him, one so intoxicatingly pleasant that Warren finds himself instantly addicted. His hands move without his permission, wrapping around the body next to him as though they had made the same motion a thousand times before. His wing wraps around both him and his companion, and the same hand that had pulled him in now strokes his feathers tenderly, a movement so intimate and unfamiliar that it rouses a flutter in the bottom of Warren’s stomach even now as he remembers it. The memory of the dream dissolves like this, with Warren melting into the unseen body beside him, its words still echoing in his ear.

The dream disturbs him, and all traces of the perfect calm it had brought him have vanished. The deepest part of him knows exactly whom it was he had imagined next to him, but his conscious mind refuses to let the thought enter. The resistance is in vain: how could he deny that voice, those hands, those fingertips against the parts of him no-one had ever touched without the buffer of painkillers or surgical gloves? And yet, he knows himself too well to expect anything but rejection. The thought of the dream is a splinter in his skin, hard to ignore and even harder to remove, and it only buries itself deeper the harder he tries to shake it. In an attempt to drown it out, he pulls out his headphones and Discman, turning the volume up as high as it would go and letting the screech of guitars and the scream of the vocals penetrate his mind. It hurts his ears and makes his head throb, but he doesn’t care. He would rather endure the pain than try to process the thoughts that brew in his head like dark clouds before a storm. It is going to be a long wait until morning. 

“Come on, Jean. You’re not being any fun!” Jubilee groans, falling back into the couch with her signature melodrama. The school day is over, and the two girls sit in the living room with a scattering of other students, MTV blaring away in the background. “I don’t care about being fun. You asked me down here to help you with your homework,” Jean reminds her, eyes still stubbornly down at her book. “Excuse me if that’s the only way I can get you to hang out,” Jubilee mumbles in response. “Just give me an answer. I’m curious.” “Fine. Ororo.” “What?! No way! Why Ororo?” She is met with a shrug. “I just think it’d be cool to be able to make lightning.” “I can make lightning! …Sort of. You’re telling me you wouldn’t switch powers with me?” “I don’t know, I just think Ororo’s powers are more my style.” “Just think Ororo’s powers are more my style,” Jubilee mocks, muttering under her breath and earning herself a warning glare from Jean. “Oh, come on,” the dark-haired girl huffs, sitting back up. “My powers are cool too, y’know. People used to give me good money when I performed at the mall.” Giving a nod like a disinterested parent, Jean scribbles down a note in the margin of her textbook. “My powers are cool, too…” Minutes wear by, and Jubilee opens her mouth to ask Jean if she’d ever used her powers to cheat on a test before, but freezes when she sees the boy enter the living room and sit down on the couch next to her. She has never seen Warren outside of his room in the afternoon before, not to mention has never seen him look so… un-angry. The ever-present scowl on his face is gone, and in its place is a vacant, pensive expression. 

“Warren,” Jean greets, as coolly as though this was an everyday occurrence. At first Warren seems put off by this, but he soon seems to relent, sinking into the couch. “Hey.” “What are you doing here?” Jubilee asks. “Aren’t you usually back in your room by now?” She’s right, of course. Warren knows it. But in truth, he couldn’t have stood another minute alone in his room with nothing for company but his own warring thoughts and feelings. He shrugs, a gesture Jubilee is beginning to get used to. “Got lonely?” Jean asks him, a slight bend in her voice suggesting that she was asking the question deliberately to provoke him. “No,” comes Warren’s sharp, predictable response. Jean gives a small ‘hm,’ sound and nods. “So how do you like Mutant Academy so far?” Jubilee pipes up. “I feel like I’ve never gotten a chance to actually ask you. You’re always off in your room or cutting class or something.” The question catches Warren off guard, and not only because he didn't expect anyone to care. How did he like the school? He hasn’t given it much thought: to him, the school had always just been the place he’d ended up at. An outside factor. Not temporary, but not permanent either. “I guess it’s fine,” he says. “Classes are stupid, though.” “Just because they’re not like the classes you’re used to at those fancy private boarding schools where they let you get away with anything?” That got Jubilee an eye roll. “What? Just saying. Rich kids always end up in cushy schools with cushy rules. Trust me, I know.” “Yeah, well. I’m here now. And probably never going to live the rich lifestyle again.” “Don’t feel bad,” Jean coaxes. “You’re far from the only one of us whose parents want nothing to do with them. I’m one of the lucky ones.” A moment of silence takes over the group, as Warren scans the room of kids, most of who look decently happy. He has never considered that the kids who filled the halls and made it hard for him to navigate to classrooms and the dining hall and his bedroom might have the same family problems that he did. He’d always assumed himself to have the worst of the problems, but as for the first time in almost six months of being at the school, he takes in the figures around him as people with their own motivations, their own stories, their own troubles, he begins to feel something he thought he would never feel again. Something new and comforting.

When he tunes back into the conversation, Jubilee and Jean are still talking about family, comparing all the vastly different lives their friends have led so far. He sits by, half listening and half in his own head, lingering in the middle where thoughts come and go from his mind like waves washing lazily against a shore. Presently, he feels a hand reach into his chest and seize it, when he hears the name he has been trying to keep out of his mind since the earliest hours of that morning. “I feel bad for Kurt sometimes,” Jubilee muses. “He hasn’t seen his family in, like, a year.” “His family?” Warren’s voice acts without consulting his mind first, and he joins the two girls in the stunned silence that follows. “Uh, yeah. His family back in Germany,” Jubilee confirms at length, frowning a little in confusion. “He talks about them all the time. Haven’t you heard him?” He hasn’t. Ever. An unpleasant sensation cooks in the pit of Warren’s stomach, an unfamiliar blend of uncomfortable feelings that make him want to squirm in his seat. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear there was a shred of jealousy churning away in the concoction. Why hadn’t Kurt told him about his family before? Did he not feel comfortable sharing that sort of thing with him? Didn’t he want Warren to know about his family? All these thoughts came in one short, sharp burst, before the reasonable part of his mind steps in to remind him that his relationship with Kurt was tenuous at best, and tattered at worst. Kurt owes him nothing in the way of knowledge about his past, and there is no surprise that he would feel more comfortable sharing personal details with someone like Jubilee, who oozed friendliness from every pore. Or really anyone in their group who, compared to Warren, are as open and as welcoming as a mother’s arms. Kurt had every right to keep his life private from Warren, and yet Warren finds himself yearning to know how to navigate into Kurt’s affections to the point where he can be given the answers he has wanted to know for so long. “Right. With the circus, I guess,” he says, eyes unfocused and directed at the ground in front of him. “Yeah. He says this place kinda reminds him of them. A whole bunch of people who everyone else thinks is weird who find each other and make another big family.” Another thought manages to thrust its way into the hostile scape of his mind. Am I part of that family? It takes a lot of conviction for him to force the next question out. “How did Kurt end up in the circus, anyway?” 

The girls are incredulous at first, in disbelief that Warren is not only present, but is in fact leading a conversation. Once they overcome their shock, Jean manages to answer his inquiry, telling Warren that Kurt really didn’t know: all anyone had told him was that he had just been found one day by a member of the circus and taken in immediately. There is another pause before Warren asks the next question, about Kurt’s childhood, but after that, the satisfaction of having the holes in his timeline filled is too much, and the questions start coming thicker and faster. His mind takes the answers he gets and begins piecing together a scene in his mind, a little blue boy raised by gypsies and performers, travelling and living free-spirited and happy. Sleeping in caravans or under stars, accepted and loved by those who surround him. Spending his childhood being praised inside the circus tent but hunted outside of it. Eventually, he begins to feel an inkling of the same intoxicating feeling he experienced that morning. The hole that has been left since he stopped speaking with Kurt, the hole that had been slowly growing larger as they have grown further apart fill in just slightly, just enough for him to wonder if he can satisfy his cravings by learning all he can about the boy who has plagued his thoughts, feelings and dreams for weeks. He doesn’t stop until the answers turn to ‘I don’t know,’ and the girls begin to look confused as to why Warren would be so interested in one particular person. When he stops, when he fully realises what he has done, a surge of self-consciousness takes over, and he clenches his teeth shut to stop any more questions from spilling out. Though it is pointless: the questions have dried up in his throat, and now any trace of his curiosity has dissipated. All he can think about is what these two girls now think of him. Who they must now think he is. Some obsessed maniac, probably. He can almost see them gossiping furiously the moment he is out of sight, jeering about his questions and the way he leaned forward a little more every time he got an answer, almost like each little added detail reeled him in further. “Are you guys… close?” Jean requests, one eye narrowing in tentative curiosity. She has never seen this side of Warren before; no-one has. Part of her wonders if this is a different person altogether, showing real, unfettered interest in another human being. But she is reassured by Warren's sudden return to his usual demeanour as he draws his shoulders up and averts his eyes, muttering something about going to his room and standing abruptly. His feathers ruffle uncomfortably behind him as he stalks from the room. Jubilee waits until she knows he is out of earshot before she speaks, though she keeps her voice to a stunned whisper nonetheless. “What in the…” “I know. He’s a mystery.” “He’s wiggin’ out is what he is. Why is he so interested in Kurt all of a sudden?” Jean is still watching the doorway where Warren had vanished. “I don’t know,” she says softly, solemnly. 

Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot. Idiot with a capital ‘I.’ Fucking Idiot. Warren has been restlessly circling the grounds of the school for over an hour since dinner had ended, trying to make himself think about anything but the mistakes he made that afternoon. He should never have asked that first question. Now they both knew—no, they both thought he had some weird hang-up about Kurt. And it was only a matter of time until that little piece of gossip spread. And what if it ended up getting back to Kurt himself? …Goddamn Idiot. Even flying wasn’t helping in the way it always did. His troubles never usually followed him up into the clouds, never tailed him as he swooped and twisted and dove with increasing agitation until his flight pattern resembled that of a fly on its last wings after being sprayed with insecticide. Finally, he gives up, returning to his windowsill and to his open window, top floor, third from the corner.

 A little under an hour earlier, while the boy is still outside, the door to Warren’s room creaks open. Kurt is fairly sure that Warren is out, but part of him still half-expects something to jump out and yell at him for daring to break the seal between the real world and Warren’ little containment of angst and anger. No such something comes, and he steps carefully into the room, feet falling softly as snowflakes on the carpet. He has missed Warren – he is big enough now to admit that to himself. Ever since that night on the rafters, small, albeit idealistic hopes had taken root in the cracks of his mind, and only in the past few days had they begun to sprout into his conscious thoughts. Even after his talk with Scott he hadn’t been sure, but now he knows there is no denying it. Needless to say, it had taken a lot of soul-searching and a good deal of prayer to confront the reality that was his attraction, but Scott’s words had stuck with him: if Kurt believed wholeheartedly that his God loved him mutation and all, what was the big deal about being attracted to men? So there he is, taking a decidedly more active approach to bridging the gap that has formed between he and Warren, standing in a bedroom that isn't his. It is reassuring to see Warren’s window open, but as Kurt approaches the window and catches sight of Warren out there in the air, he can tell something is wrong. The usual grace in his movements is missing, and something new and erratic has taken its place. Kurt is worried, and lets himself watch for a few moments, wondering what thoughts must be marring the boy’s usually seamless routine, but he quickly becomes paranoid about being caught, and continues what he has come to the room to do. After all, he had called in favours from almost all of his friends to be able to pull this off the way he wants to. 

At first glance, when Warren reaches his window, landing haphazardly on the too-small outside sill (he has still not quite figured out how to make that landing), he thinks he has come to the wrong room. It is only when he sees the small notches in the poster of his bed, born of uncontrolled rage and piercing sharp talons, that he realises this is in fact, the same room he had left from. But it definitely isn’t in the same state it had been when he had left. The scattering of empty bottles he has grown used to, grown to rely on has vanished. Instead, the floor is neat, the rug has been straightened, and the discarded clothes that had littered every surface in the room have been folded neatly into a pile on the end of his bed. But those are far from the only changes he can see. The drab grey duvet cover on his bed has been switched for a newer, much brighter sky blue-colour, one that makes the room seem instantly more open, more lived-in, not just slept-in. Warren feels as though he should be mad, should be irate at the thought of someone taking it upon themselves to remodel the room. But something, whether it be the sheer shock or the fact that he had a hunch as to who was behind this new look, stops his anger in its tracks, keeping him in a state of emotional vacancy as he takes in his new surroundings. The holes on the walls, small but numerous, have been covered by posters that look like they were taken from the types of magazines Jubilee and Peter like to read. The posters depict rock bands and horror movies, the ones he likes, and knows that Ororo likes as well. On his nightstand, next to his Discman and Walkman, he finds an assortment of new tapes and discs, some of them copies of original tapes with titles in black marker denoting albums he had heard Scott talking about before. His desk, once a mess of discarded papers and late homework, is now clean and clear, with folders separating each subject and drawers indicating what work was late and what he still had time to do. The whole display looks as neat and as logical as if Jean had overseen their organisation herself. The whole room looks new. Not much has been changed, but Warren is struck by how much more inviting it looks now. This is a room like those he has seen others in, those who have made themselves their own compact homes within four walls and a few dozen square feet. But perhaps most intriguing is a stack of books left on his new bedspread, just below the two new pillows. They look old, worn; each one has been read many times over, that much is clear. On top of the pile is a small folded note with his name scrawled on it in short, untidy letters. Feeling as though this had to be another dream, Warren reaches for the note and unfolds it in slightly numb fingers, reading the equally messy text with a puzzled, thoughtful frown.

Thought your sanctuary could do with a little more colour. Don’t worry – the bottles that weren’t empty are in the cupboard below your nightstand. I hope you won’t need them as much as you think you do. Help is waiting for you whenever you want it. –Your friend  

Warren still does not know where to direct his thoughts. The words on the note, the way the note is written, only further confirm what he had first suspected. He knows who has done this, or at least coordinated it all, but he is not sure how that makes him feel. He falls back onto his bed, sifting through the titles of the stack of books, assessing each one before placing them one by one on his nightstand. The feeling of having so much done for him, of having so much thought and effort put in solely for his comfort, is humbling, and something that he can scarcely remember feeling ever before. Again, he feels what he had felt for just a moment that afternoon: he feels like he is part of something. Yes, there is a small voice inside him that is throwing a toddler’s tantrum about having his space invaded, his room changed around and his personal belongings handled behind his back, but that part is now so drowned out that he doesn’t even know if it is really there or if he just expects it to be there. After a period of time, the length of which Warren cannot be sure passes by, Warren is hit by a wave of incredible fatigue. Something inside him that has been holding on, tensing itself for weeks, months, years on end, has just let go, and it leaves him weak and disoriented. Nonetheless, there is a sliver of comfort shining through like light through the crack in closed curtains. Or through the gap in the window that Warren leaves ajar before he strips off his clothes and slides into a fresh, newly-laundered bed for the first time since before he can remember.

Warren does not dream when he falls asleep that night. And for reasons he is beginning to accept, he is vaguely disappointed about that.

[spectrumscribe]

how did you like the new episode!

Just watched it, and oh am I fucking salty.

I live reacted to the happenings in the episode as I watched it, so you can all see my opinion form as it did.

Read on below, spoilers for folks who haven’t seen Season 5 episode 1 yet.

Nice to see that Raph and Casey are still The Worst andbeing bros now where’s my jonatello friendship

Cults in the sewers. Nice.

They all look like ET tho.

Raph continues to be Casey’s self-restraint, which he sorelyneeds more of.

And cut to the opening sequence.

Okay so personally speaking, as a big fan of cowboy-bebop, I’mkind of digging the new opening? I mean they forgot Casey in it, but I like themusic. The animation could be better, but eh, I’ll take what I can get at thispoint.

Love how there’s nofucking continuity with the fact that they just lost their fucking dad. Fuckthis.

Why aren’t they mourning. Christ.

On the other hand, fanboy Leo is back. I like this Leo betterthan hero Leo by about 100%.

“-too disturbing forkids.” – right up my alley, then.

Okay so idk if anyone else feels this way, but captain Ryan’sbehavior and characterization reminds me of a certain other leader who needs to quite slapping around his team members. (emotionally and physically.)

That’s probably not what they’re trying to metaphor here,but you know, I can have my own opinion.

“-so Casey Jones andhis sidekick Raph gave chase.” – Casey you are a blessing to us all.

Love how pissed Raph is in this shot.^^^

Apparently Donnie has sensors in the sewers, and bothers tokeep track of the homeless population. Interesting. Would’ve been nice if they’dbrought this in earlier in theseries, when it would’ve been more useful.

EY IT’S CULT TIME NAUGHTY CHILDREN HOORAY

Why are there so many caverns under the city omg

FURBIES

FUCK FURBIES DONNIE WHY DO YOU HAVE THOSE

April’s powers are amazing and I love her?? So much.

WHY FURBIES THOUGH. DONNIE FUCKING WHY.

Does anyone else have irrational fear of those? Or that awestern side of the world thing.

oh god so many furbies everywhere

I’m enjoying the team ups. It’s a good change from theusually ‘b-team’ ‘a-team’ nonsense. Leo+Mikey and Donnie+Raph gives better roomfor their individual dynamics to shine. Plus you know, the team humans (if Aprilcan be really counted for that) deserve some time off from their crazy mutantfriends.

Chanting time. Lovely.

Guys no don’t interrupt chanting time, that’s rude.

Someone tell that alien-thing to wash its mouth out, who knows where Mikey’s hands have been.

You would all be dead 3000x over if not for Donnie’sinventions. Be grateful you little shits.

Oh they’re immortal-ish. Great.

Ah fuck there goes Mikey again. Why do they always do thisto him.

Jesus Christ his arm. Leo’s arm.

AH HA THE POLICE

Do these men even knowwhat shit goes on in this city.

Moving to the lair and-

THAT’S NOT HOW YOU FIX A DISLOCATED ARM I SWEAR TO GOD

I KNOW FIRST AID. THAT’S NOT HOW YOU DO IT.

Leo would be in so much pain, my god. I hate the blatant disregardof reality in this show sometimes. (fictional setting, yes, but still.)

Casey hates magic? Anyone remember him saying that before? Idk. (maybe something to do with him getting cursed last season? probably.)

Mikey no. This isn’t Ghost Busters. yet

Oh lovely, more domestic abuse. Fucking love that.

Had to stop the video, Jesus Christ. Wow I hate this showsometimes. Like right now. Fucking GOD.

“What did I tell youabout the imagination thing? Focus!” - what the shit Raph, what is yourdamage?? You hit Mikey out of the blue, fortaking a moment to imagine something? They’re not in battle, Mikey’s not inthe middle of an important conversation, the fuck is wrong with him thinkingabout something else for a moment?

^^^One of these days, this kid is going to fucking snap, and I amgoing to support him in his rage. (also, @redworld96 for the awesome video links. thanks for those.)

Once again, Donnie is the one who figures things out. Maybe they’llthank him this time around. spoilers: they didn’t

Oh no. The angst moment. I knew it was coming.

“Do not be sad, my son.”-SPLINTER YOU ARE DEAD, WHY THE FUCK WOULDN’T HE BE.

Had to pause again, because FUCK. Here we go with the bullshitty nonsense where Splinterappears to exactly one kid, and one kid only, even when he has three other sons and a daughter, PLUS theother two humans he basically adopted.

Yeah, just show the fuck up Splinter and tell your grievingkid not to be upset you’re dead and have left them with minimal training and noguardian. Fucking sure.

My god I hate this. Telling them you’re always with them does not make it so. Holy fuck that’s nothelpful at all you’re just driving him crazier.

Oh and now he’s gone. SEE I TOLD YOU. AND LEO TELLS FUCKINGNO ONE ABOUT IT. HE’S GONNA HAVE LIKE TEN KINDS OF COMPLEXES WHEN HE GETS OLDERAND I WON’T BLAME HIM FOR IT.

Why won’t you kids just communicate how you’re all feelingfor once? FOR. ONCE.

Ninja time it seems. Nice to see them acting like a team, even though their ‘leader’ is keeping secrets. Ithink I’d personally be pissed if a sibling of mine kept the fact that our dead father was still sort of around and able to talk to us. What the shit.

I’m already tired of this. le-fucking-sigh.

Why are there so many weird caverns under NYC. Seriously. There’sa whole canyon, and now a cult cavern too. How have the people of NYC notnoticed this.

Love how Tigerclaw’s reaction to his master dying is tostart a cult. Bruh, fucking same.

But where did the weirdo ET’s come from.

Leo is visibly struggling with being a leader. I can feelanother arc all about him coming up. Yikes™.

Captured again. Beautiful. Now see? This is why Splinter’s whole “I have taught you all I know” was a fucking lie. They clearly do not know everything he had to teach them, andtelling them they did was really shit parenting and sensei-ing.

Honestly, Splinter at the end there was just shit allaround. Continued once again by him visiting only Leo, and not sparing even a peep to his other grieving kids. It’sofficial, 2014/16 Splinter is the best splinter, and 2003 Splinter was milesbetter than 2012 him. And- 2012Splinter is now on par for shittiness with 2007 Splinter, which I did not thinkwas possible. Ta-fucking-da.

“-so we can beat youagain?” – Leo exactly who is captured right now? You. It’s you. You are notbeating anyone here.

Wow. The ET’s are Mole people. Why am I not surprised.

When in doubt summon a demon. I can abide that. I’d do it ifI had nothing to lose.

Seriously how does New York not notice how batshit theircity is.

Shit. Shit.

Demons. Holy fuck.

I have a small crush on the dragon dude. I’m really digging his design. #it’snotbeingafurryifit’sscaley

I’m laughing bc Kravaxas definitelywants to murder TC for this. You can just hear it in his voice.

Hi yeah I’m down for the demon villain. I’m a sucker forthem, 100%.

Mikey can’t catch a break this episode. Poor sot.

Oh ho ho shit,Kravaxas really hates TC.

Why can’t Donnie do anything ever? Why won’t they give himthat?

At least everyone’s getting the same treatment.

Get fucked, Leo.

OH HEY. PEOPLE SHOWING CONCERN FOR DONNIE. A thank you to Raphand Casey for giving a shit, for once.

Slow-mo oh no. Thank god for red heads.

April is better than these people deserve. But fuck, not more people trying to use April fortheir own ends. Christ, can’t the narrative let her have control of herself/herlife for once?

The amount of murderous intent in Kravaxas’ voice is myfave.

Oh yup. There it is. Leo asking Donnie to solve theirproblems. Again. And no thank you insight, not for this favor or the work he did earlier.

“Can we get our handson, say, two or three dozen tanks?” – Casey. No.

At least I got some jonatello interaction, even if it wasextra stress on Donnie’s part.

April can read minds now? What??? That might be a problem,since she semi-lives with five teenage guys, lmao.

Why does TC love Shredder so much? Idk. Maybe they were athing, somehow. With the pairings this show comes up with, I’m not surprised byanything anymore.

Aaaaaaaaaand fade to black.

 ————————————————

Overall opinion? Salt.

I’m firmly in the part of the fandom, small as it seems tobe, that sees a good portion of the brother-brother dynamics as abusive, and I didn’tenjoy the moment between Raph and Mikey atall. It’s frustrating for me to watch, and it only fuels my vitriolicopinions on things. Hated that part, same as all the other parts in the seriesthat’ve been the same content.

Plus, Donnie being asked to solve everything for everyoneyet again. He looks so tired, give him a vacation and a restraining order onhis family.

The other parts were sort of… meh, for me? I mean, I’m happy for more canon content to fuel mywriting, but it didn’t give me anything in terms of emotion? Besides anger.

Like, there’s been zerocontinuation on the fact that their actualfreaking dad just died. You don’t just moveon like that. No one except Leo, because of course it was just Leo, showed any sort of mourning emotions overtheir dead dad. They’re seventeen maybe,and on their own in a world that wants them dead.How the hell are they supposed to just pick up and carry on fine like without any sort of grieving process?

0/10 for emotions, continuity, and satisfying content forme, excluding this-

-because Mikey deservesto get mad. If they ever address the amount of anger he’s got stored up in him,and do it properly, I’ll be over thefucking moon. But likely, even if they did, they’d devalue his legitamentfeelings, and tell him to get over it and grow up. Fuck canon for making meexpect exactly that sort of low quality writing.

Just. Augh.

So far, I liked onemoment in this episode, and it was only because it made me justifiably angry. That’s notexactly a resounding applause on my part of things.

Here’s to hoping they pull a hat-trick out their asses,because I’m not expecting anything good from this season so far. (I have hopesfor the vampire arc, but oh they are wishful ones.)