#what was lost

[tmntseparatedaucompetition]

Our Other Halves - @exhaustedwriterartist

What Was Lost - @imaginationstation

[imagionationstation]

Frankly, Raph was tired of people staring.

There were tons of loud and violent robomatches going on around them, but nooo, the turtle looking for his lost little brother was the thing to gawk at. Sure.

So, maybe he was screaming a fair amount, and yeah, he tackled this one turtle who looked scarily like Donnie- albeit less so when he got close up- but it’s not like he hurt anyone. Even that one turtle kid who took his swift-footed existence as a threat, Raph mostly just darted around when weapons were revealed. He may have unleashed a ninja star or two, but the warrior did look hostile.

There are quite a few turtles that reek danger and turtles that probably thought they were being helpful by getting in his way to talk to him. He doesn’t need anyone else’s help finding his brother.

Why would Donnie trust them anyway?

Donnie’s his brother!

Raph stops by a ring, two robots clashing in battle beside him.

His throat is beginning to hurt when a familiar chirp has him changing direction so fast that he almost runs into a glowing yellow turtle. He’s sent a startled look, but everything else is quickly forgotten as he finally locks onto anxious brown eyes.

“DONNIE!”

He closes the distance at the joyful chitters, scanning for any sign of new injuries among old scars. “You absolute IDIOT!”

He drops to his level and Donnie churrs as he shoves his beak into his shoulder. His sweet brother nuzzles close, quivering with what better be excitement and not fear because if someone was spooking him, so help Raph, he’ll find them and teach them such a-

Donnie suddenly ducks away and goes for the toy in Raph’s other hand. He glares fondly at his younger brother with all the worry festering in his being, snapping, “Why would you run off!? Scared me to death!”

He lifts his head, mouth locked over the bear’s arm in a similar delicate fashion that a mother cat carries a kitten. There hasn’t been a single tear since the day that Raph tossed him the plushie.

Raph can’t stand to imagine what would happen if some crazed-up fruit loop got his hands on the somewhat uncertain but still beaming and churring mutant before him.

“Stop that.” He grumbles because he’s supposed to be mad, but that infernal sound won’t stop assuring him that he’s (safe content unharmed) along with some gushy (love you love you love you) and for some stupid reason it’s actually calming. “I’m mad at you.”

It’s a lie. And yet, Donnie has the gaul to drop the teddy into his hands, tilt his head, and peer up at him; his joy completely deflating into a defeated guilt. Raph’s stomach twists.

Aw, sewer apples.

“Oh, fine. I’m not mad anymore.”

Raph takes the bear away because no one has a right to pull on his heart strings like that. His younger brother brightens immediately, letting Raph take his hand and bring him to his feet. With all their practice, his younger brother gets his footing quickly.

“C’mon, big guy. Let’s go find- woah!”

Donnie lurches and drags him over to a booth, a large What Was Lost sign over it. There’s some kind of control panel within. Raph stares at it, baffled, as Donnie breaks away to lean his weight on the panel, eagerly button smashing. The robot in front of them, which had mostly just been avoiding punches and missiles, suddenly decides that it’d rather go down fighting. It’s arm opens up to reveal a flame thrower, but the aim is all wrong. The opponent easily dodges.

Then come the bullets, which are harder to avoid with the uncoordinated spray. The bot still manages to deflect them. Other weapons come into play and then disappear just as rapidly as Raph gets the gist of what’s going on before him.

It’s obvious that their robot is not winning. Someone is bound to be ticked off when they discover their broken bot. And he doesn’t want to be in the booth when that someone comes looking for the losers.

That settled, Raph grabs Donnie’s wrist, ignoring the disappointed whine, and drags him away from the panel.

“As annoying as they are, we’ve got to find the others before they do something stupid.” He tells him firmly as their robot gets knocked onto its back. “Then we can see about blowing up bots.”

Donnie relents, shifting closer when they re-enter the crowd.

Different groups take notice of his success. A turtle in a blue mask gives him a thumbs up as they pass. A turtle with a snaggle tooth grins proudly in their direction. A nod of congrats from a turtle with fake eyebrows and a giddy wave from a turtle with yellow spots.

A booming cheer erupts in the crowd as they watch the battles. Donnie’s whimpers can barely be caught under it as his little brother passes him a fearful look. Raph squeezes his hand in reassurance, offering him the bear. His younger brother gives it a one-arm hugged, comforted by his own motion, looking back to the crowd.

He’s anxious, but he doesn’t need to be.

Raph has no plan on letting go.

@tmntseparatedaucompetition

If I’m going out then I’m at least going out fluffy! 💜❤️

[driver270]

Can *anyone* please explain to me how the hell that Scorcher heart that was initially as big as Kotallo's head ended up becoming bigger than Aloy's torso after it's brought back to The Base?

[goldmolamola]

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

[pirateprincessjess]

When I was a kid my family pretended to get raptured so I would think I was left behind on earth while they all went to heaven.

I was like 8 years old and my sister and mom had gotten really into the Left Behind novels (bible fan fic about the rapture). In the books when the rapture happened the clothes that people were wearing when they got raptured were left behind in neatly folded piles.

One day when I was getting home from school my family decided that they would leave piles of neatly folded clothes around the house, and then hide in the basement.

The intended effect was that I would get home and see the clothes then, think that my family had been raptured and that I wasn’t good enough to get into heaven… or something?

The problem was that I had never read these books, and didn’t really think about the rapture very often. There was no reason that I would see some laundry on the floor and think “The rapture happened and I’ve been abandoned by God! I’ll never see my family again!! Oh nooo!!!!”

I just sat down and watched cartoons and eventually my family got bored and revealed that they were all hiding in the basement.

It’s a good thing I didn’t understand the joke, otherwise that shit would have been traumatic.

[just-spacetrash]

the 'what if you played it a little risky' post literally Changed my life but i cant fujkign find it in my blog because its. a tiktok screenshot

[warcrimesimulator]

I hate how acknowledging unfairness in the world is seen as "childish". Maybe children are right. I don't think you should be proud of the fact that you've become complacent with the state of your miserable existence and took on this loser "it is what it is" mentality. Things can be better.

[tuttle-did-it]

David Tennant for Prime Minister, please.

edit- Since this is getting so much attention, edited to include descriptions of screenshots.

This woman has lost her fucking mind.

Jo, are you okay?

[marypsue]

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[cozylittleartblog]

cant tell you how bad it feels to constantly tell other artists to come to tumblr, because its the last good website that isn't fucked up by spoonfeeding algorithms and AI bullshit and isn't based around meaningless likes

just to watch that all fall apart in the last year or so and especially the last two weeks

there's nowhere good to go anymore for artists.

edit - a lot of people are saying the tags are important so actually, you'll look at my tags.

#please dont delete your accounts because of the AI crap. your art deserves more than being lost like that #if you have a good PC please glaze or nightshade it. if you dont or it doesnt work with your style (like mine) please start watermarking #use a plain-ish font. make it your username. if people can't google what your watermark says and find ur account its not a good watermark #it needs to be central in the image - NOT on the canvas edges - and put it in multiple places if you are compelled #please dont stop posting your art because of this shit. we just have to hope regulations will come slamming down on these shitheads#in the next year or two and you want to have accounts to come back to. the world Needs real art #if we all leave that just makes more room for these scam artists to fill in with their soulless recycled garbage #improvise adapt overcome. it sucks but it is what it is for the moment. safeguard yourself as best you can without making #years of art from thousands of artists lost media. the digital world and art is too temporary to hastily click a Delete button out of spite

[salt-baby]

yes, doctors suck, but also "the medical ethics and patient interaction training doctors receive reinforces ableism" and "the hyper competitive medical school application process roots out the poor, the disabled, and those who would diversify the field" and "anti-establishment sentiment gets applications rejected and promotions requests denied, weeding out the doctors on our side" and "the gruesome nature of the job and the complete lack of mental health support for medical practitioners breeds apathy towards patients" and "insurance companies often define treatment solely on a cost-analysis basis" and "doctors take on such overwhelming student loan debt they have no choice but to pursue high paying jobs at the expense of their morals" are all also true

none of this absolves doctors of the truly horrendous things they say and do to patients, but it's important to acknowledge that rather than every doctor being coincidentally a bad person, there is something specific about this field and career path that gives rise to such high prevalence of ableist attitudes

and I WILL elaborate happily

[tmntseparatedaucompetition]

What Was Lost

By: @imaginationstation

Iteration: 2012

Where You Can Find It: Tumblr | Ao3

Summary: Donnie is separated from his brothers from a young age and forced to live his life under Kraang dictatorship. His brothers grow up with Splinter, all memory of him forgotten. Life goes on: they go to the surface; they fight the Foot and the Kraang. And yet, there’s a rift that exists between the brothers, one that they cannot explain. When Donatello returns, he unknowingly drags the rift to light and unintentionally bringing changes with him.

The only question is, are they for the better?

Or, Donnie is feral boy and his brothers adopt him

[imagionationstation]

“Eurghhh.”

“Owwwiie.”

“What-?”

“Okay, first thing’s first.” Leo states as he dusts off his plastron, scanning the area on unsteady legs. “Everybody’s intact?”

“Limbs, shell, brain, fingers, toes-” Mikey volunteers as he looks himself over. Raph immediately quips, “What brain?”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of what? That hollow skull?”

“Good to know nobody’s hurt.” Their leader interrupts dryly. “Okay, next thing’s-”

Raph brushes away the last of the head fog, newly suspicious, “Where the shell are we?”

Leo frowns and Mikey chirps, “Yeah, can’t a turtle get some beauty sleep without waking up with a concussion on a hard floor?”

The concern and disguised anxiety is dismissed with the eldest’s hand flick. “Less important things later.”

Raph glares hard. Leo looks at the forming crowd around them. “Hostility in the area seems low.”

“Perfect time for some scary voice to ring out of a hidden speaker and announce a fight to the death.” Mikey offers brightly, cocking his head expectantly. Leo’s face twists, eyes darting about in a brief search for said-speakers. “Thank you, for that inspiring take.”

“No problem.”

“Oh no.” Raph scrambles to his feet, scooping up a blur of purple. His brothers recognize the familiar plush as he rapidly scans the area. “Donnie! DONNIE!”

Heads swerve in their direction. Leo clamps a hand over his mouth and drags him back from the crowd. “Stop, drawing attention to us.”

Raph tears out of his grip, whirling to face his brother. “No! Leo, he’s out there somewhere!” His eyes widen, pleading and panicked. “We have to find him!”

“Why?” Skeptic brows furrow, uncertain. “You think he has something to do with us spawning here?”

“Of course not!” Raph snarls as he squeezes the bear between tense fingers. “We should find him ‘cause he’s missing!”

“You don’t know he came here with us.” Leo attempts to soothe, but Raph wrenches his arm away. He brandishes the bear. “Yeah, I do!”

He looks to the crowd and then back to his brothers, eyes lit in determination. “And if you’re not going to help me, then I’ll just find him myself!”

“Don’t you-!”

Leo moves to grab him, but Raph’s faster.

Mikey appears at his side as their brother disappears into the crowd, declaring, “AFTER THAT TURTLE!”

Again, heads turn in their direction.

“Mikey, be quiet!”

His leader’s contradictory advice is happily ignored as Mikey grabs his arm and drags him in search of their two missing brothers.

@tmntseparatedaucompetition

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[egophiliac]

it's never the last time.

I was trying to justify to myself having Leona know how to use a waffle maker, and. well. sometimes you just gotta go where the flow takes you.

[cryoshad]

concerning pastimes