#when Leo goes back to his paper he’s then like wait I was just a turtle then how is turtle me smiling

[turtleblogatlast]

Draxum somehow salvaged some of his notes and papers from when he first acquired the turtles, and out of “the goodness of his heart” (aka because Mikey begged him nonstop for a solid three hours) Draxum saw it fit to give them each their corresponding paper.

They were enlightening, to a degree, though it was kinda crazy seeing baby versions of their pre-mutation selves stapled to the corner of the paper.

When Leo got his paper, he grinned at his “super cute baby self” and shifted his eyes to read up a little.

Sure, there was the expected long drawn out essay about his role and place in regard to “world domination” or whatever that Leo skimmed over and proceeded to ignore thanks to the excess of way too big words, but what really caught Leo’s eye was the basic description of himself at the top of the papers.

There was his species, what seemed to be a number (either 2 or 3, Leo wasn’t sure since the bottom was burned a bit), his size (tiny!!), and then, right below those…

‘SEX: F’

…Leo blinked. Then blinked again.

“Draxum.” He said, getting his brothers’ attention.

At the lack of response, he looked up.

“Draxum.” The sheep Yokai walked away faster. “DRAXUM.” He was jogging now. “DRAXUM WHY DOES IT SAY ‘F’?!”

Draxum was booking it away from them as Leo gave chase, shouting about how “IT EXPLAINS A LOT BUT I NEED SOME ANSWERS! DRAXUM! DON’T YOU RUN AWAY I JUST WANNA TALK-“

There was flashes of blue light, then silence.

The others stood there, wondering what just happened before shrugging it off and using their baby photos to go and bribe Splinter with.

[angelpuns]

Leo hardly felt relieved, even with the tracker now halfway across the city. They still knew where he lived and when they caught up with the rat they were gonna be running back to his lair. And they'd probably be pissed. 

He really wish he knew what these guys wanted, but it wasn't really smart to hear out a villain monologue when it was 3v1, ya know? 

So for now, he had hunkered down in the lair and waited. His traps were set and waiting, and the heavy cage he'd scrounged up from the hidden city police was hidden in a distant room. He wondered vaguely if the big guy could break through, but decided this was his only real option. 

At least if they were trapped in the lair, they were trapped, right? Then he could figure out what to do. 

It felt like hours before he finally heard distant footsteps and muffled, hurried conversation echoing down the subway tunnels. He tucked himself further into his hiding place, peeking over the lip of the vent he was in to spot them. 

Just as he'd predicted, they waltzed right into the entrance, voices whispering frantically to each other. 

Leo rolled his eyes, these guys weren't very smart, huh? If they were trying to sneak up on him they were failing miserably. 

The purple one was nearing a trap, and Leo readied his katana. If he was lucky, they'd all fall for it, but if not he could just wait until they were all standing together. 

The purple one took a step too far and stumbled, right into a net Leo had left there. It wasn't very fancy, sure, but it was what he had on hand, alright? 

There was a confused shout and a scramble to get him out from the other two, and that’s when Leo took his oppurunity. 

He slid from the vent to the floor, their backs to him for the moment. 

The purple one spotted him first from his netted prison, but before he could worn them, Leo launched his sword across the lair. 

He only had two good portals left, so he had to get this right on the first try. 

It stuck into the post behind them, and the three creatures seemed to know what was happening even as Leo landed behind them and cut a portal beneath them. The two that he hadn't trapped fell through, a dramatic clang echoing from the other room as they fell into his cage. 

“ LEOLEOLEO DON'T CUT ME DOWN, I SWEAR TO GALILEO-”

Leo didn't waste time worrying about why this guy knew his name, his other sword coming up to slice the ropes that held him up and drop him into the cage as well, only seconds later than the other two. 

He quickly closed the portal with a huff of exertion.  Yeah, he might have overdone if a bit. 

He trailed lazily into the next room, the cage now rattling with his three green prisoners.  

They stopped when he walked in, though, so maybe he would actually be able to get them to talk. 

“So,” he started, grabbing a chair and flipping it around. He took a seat and leaned forward, arms resting on the back of the chair, “ what do you want from me?” 

----

Okay I think this part is stupid and not written that well, but whatever. I totally forgot about his plan to trap them so I had to backtrack and write all this business out. He really doesn't have much of a plan except for trap them for now and figure it out as he goes, so much for being a strategist :/

I like to think that as good at Leo is as at planning he is better when he has more pieces to work with. In this case he doesn't have nearly enough and he also just doesn't have enough information. also since he doesn't know that they're his brothers he's missing key info that is gonna come back to bite him in the ass :/

Anyway its a good thing this isn't a real au I'm working on as seriously cause I'd be more worried about the plot holes :) this is just to get the idea out on paper before I inevitably move on.

Part 1 | Part 7 | Part 9

[fishsticksloser]

This isn't an nsfw ask- but I wanted to ask for the rottmnt boys in mating season and how they act towards their s/o

Mating Season

Rottmnt x gn!reader

Warnings: feral turtles, aged up

A/N: there is nothing explicit in this, just turtles being turtles

Donnie

He made precautions once they all started dating

It wasn't an issue before because April is their sister

You can tell it's starting because he gets more affectionate

Normally kissing your neck more

He talks about the way you smell

During mating season, Donnie is locked in his room

He can't get out, he made sure of it

He is feral

Donnie doesn't speak hardly at all, instead communicating with chirps and hisses (mostly hissing)

If he does speak, it's normally begging

He doesn't like being away from his lab, but he can't do anything when he's in this state anyways

Larger, bulkier blankets and such have to be removed because he'll tear them up

He makes a nest on his bed with his clothes and thinner fabric

Due to him being feral, Shelldon is the one who gives him food and water

You sometimes give Donnie food, but it can be dangerous so you leave it to Shelldon (he bites)

Paper plates and such have to be used otherwise you won't be getting them back as he adds them to his nest

After mating season, he dismantles his nest immediately

He hates having a dirty room

Leo

Also absolutely feral

But! Donnie is a little scarier when feral...

Leo tried not to show when it's coming on, opting to remove you from the situation completly

Although that hardly ever works

He locks himself in his room as well

Unlike Donnie, he actually does talk

He's a sweet talker, tries to convince you to let him out... That it's over

He's done so successfully a few times

Leo is very persuasive

He's not as dangerous to approach

He'll bite sometimes, but that's just on bad days

If you give him food and water, he'll stay as far away from you as he can

Leo will wait there until you back up from the door

It's almost like Leo takes the logical part of Donnie's brain during this time

He also makes a nest

He doesn't tear things up like his twin so he has a bigger, comfier, bulkier nest

After mating season, he'll leave the nest for at least a week just to make sure it's over

Mikey

Mikey doesn't lock himself up

He knows himself and will let you know when bad days are coming

He rarely goes feral during mating season

When he does, you're not coming over

Period

He still talks and everything, but he needs physical contact otherwise he'd lose his mind

His nest is pretty basic, it's not too big, but it's comfy

He likes having you stay over so his nest is warm and inviting

He feeds himself so you don't have to worry about anything

Raph

Raph does go a little feral at least he thought so

But he saw Leo and Donnie and realized he was just paranoid

He doesn't lock himself up, but he tells you not to come over at all during this time

He's worried he might hurt you

Raph acts pretty normal for the most part

He does make a nest, it has to be in the living room because his room isn't big enough

He can go feral like Mikey, but he tends to be pretty mellow

Raph has a tendency to tear things up, but not as bad as Donnie

During this time, the couch is moved out of the living room so Raph has more room and doesn't feel the need to tear up the cushions

[cameronspecial]

Drew x actress!y/n play charades at one of the y/n's friends it's going to be a fun evening

Charades

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

When Y/N got her own place, the first tradition that came to be in the apartment was Friday game night. Her life as an actress means she is used to going from one fancy and public event to another, so a night in with her friends is exactly what she needs. Drew soon joined in on the routine when they started dating and every night has been a success since. The couple's favourite game to play? Charades. They just understood each other in a way that helped them dominate in the game. “Okay, alright. Cheery couple, it’s your turn,” Natalia announces, holding up the bowl to her friend. Drew nudges Y/N’s shoulders, so she gets up to pick a paper out of the bowl. She reads the book on the slip of paper and motions with her head for Ben to start the timer. She mimes reading a book. “Book,” Drew guesses and she nods, moving on to the next motion. She rubs her arms, pretending to be freezing. Drew stands up and points at her, “The Great Gatsby.” “Ding. Ding. Ding. You got it, Baby,” she congratulates, jumping into his arms. Natalia and Ben look at each other with jaws on the floor. “That is a lie. There is no way he got The Great Gatsby from what? You being cold. Show me your paper,” Ben complains. Y/N holds up the paper for the other two to read and it does say The Great Gatsby. 

Natalia looks between the couple, “How did you know?” “It was a book. Leo was in the adaptation of the book. He was also on Titanic. Hence, she was cold and that leads me to The Great Gatsby,” he shrugs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Okay, it’s your guys’ turn,” Y/N points out to the other team. She hands the bowl to Ben and after a very unsuccessful attempt at getting Natalia to guess Die Hard, it is Y/N and Drew’s turn again. 

He pats her thigh as he takes her off of his lap. He stands and picks out a word. The Office. Oh, this was going to be easy. Ben starts the time and Drew forms a box with his fingers. “TV show,” she states, watching for his next move. He thinks about what to do. There are so many different things that he knows he can do to get her to guess, but he wants her to continue their streak of guessing it with the first gesture. He finally figures it out and a lightbulb goes off in his mind. He motions taking something that is being handed to him. “The Office,” she screams with excitement because she knows she got it right. She doesn’t wait for him to confirm her victory before she runs around the room. Drew knows the other two are going to ask for verification, so he holds the paper out for them. She runs back to his side, “He was acting out the scene where Pam gives Jim the lamp she just bought and Jim is just like, okay then.” Natalia and Ben look at each other. “You guys pick the most obscure moments to reference,” Nat says with raised eyebrows. One of Y/N’s shoulders rises, “What can I say? He just gets me.” Ben opens up the ottoman to take out a different game. “We aren’t playing this anymore. It’s not fair with the mind readers over there,” Ben informs. Drew chuckles, “You can pick out any game, but I promise we are going to win all of them because we know each other that well. Although, we won’t be as good as we are at charades.” This is how Natalia and Ben learned why almost all of Y/N’s other friends stopped coming to game night. Because there is no chance of winning against the combined forces of Y/N and Drew.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[baddiesonic]

AMC chapter 3:

One week. Leo waited all week. Each day crept along but Leo persisted. It was Friday morning and Leo shot up, instantly getting ready for the day.

Leo made sure to make a believable excuse to leave. He even made sure hueso could back him up.

Leo was eager to say the least. And at 6am sharp, Leo left, leaving a note on his bed just in case.

——————

Leo once again transported himself to big mamas office, and entered, “Hey…! It’s the big day today so I figured I’d be fashionably early!” Leo smiled and sat

Big mama looked up from her stack of papers, “Perfect! Today will be a showstopper!” Big mama cheered, clearly excited for today

She stood and guided him through the hallways and into the elevator, where she went to a certain level. After a bit the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing tons of Yokai making all sorts of clothes. “C’mon dearie! This way” Big mama led him to a private room, and on a bench was his outfit.

Leo smiled, “Wow…this is….” Leo struggled to explain his feelings as he examined the nice new gear, all with gold accents.

“I’ll win this for ya! Ok?” Leo smiled,

“Don’t be so cocky dear! Now come, must get your lovely face camera ready!” Big mama smiled and began to touch him up, adding some cool blue glitter on his mask and eyes to make him stand out.

However only time will tell how the fight goes.

————-

Leo stood at the tunnel, waiting for it to be time.

The gate slowly opened and Leo strutted out, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. He was met with the cheers of nexus fans, and even spotted a couple from his previous fight.

Leo waved to the crowd and the cameras, before looking up at the VIP box where big mama was.

She made eye contact and picked up her microphone, “Hello everybody! I’m sure you’re all excited to see our favorite champion make a comeback, and reclaim his title!” Her voice echoed through the stadium as she introduced him, and his enemy (leo didn’t pay attention).

A large Yokai came slithering out of the other tunnel, a giant snake. Leo could take him out easy!

Leo waited for the countdown.

3, 2, 1!

Leo dashed forwards, and maneuvering around the snake’s attacks. Leo taunted him, “Hey! Try hitting me for once will ya?” He smirked as he slipped around some more attacks.

The snake let out a loud hiss and sunk his fangs into Leo’s bicep, Leo yelled. “Ok you scaley worm! That’s it!” Leo kicked the snakes head off of his arm, doing so at that angle caused the snakes fang to crack.

After some more evasion, Leo pinned the snakes head on the ground in between his swords, standing atop it. Leo looked up at the audience. The audience started chanting ‘finish him!’

Leo laughed and remarked, “Oh man! Gotta give the audience why they want!” And then, it was over for his opponent. The crowd burst into applause and Leo held up one of his tainted swords

“We have a winner!” Big mama’s voice erupted, “

——————

The match had been broadcast live all over the hidden city, luckily his brothers didn’t consume hardly any hidden city media, so he was safe for now..

——————

I got too impatient to wait when I was supposed to post this, but this is building up to something good I promise!! Sorry I’m not good at fight scenes so lemme know what you think!!!!

First, previous, next

Also bonus scene

[waywardwritesstuff]

HIIII!! How are you?

I was wondering if you could do a platonic rottmnt Donnie x reader one shot?/nf of course! Maybe like some comfort after reader has had a bad day.

I LOVE YOU!! remember to drink water!

-Axel <3

Bad days: ROTTMNT!Donnie X GN!Reader

ROTTMNT!Donnie X GN!Reader

Word count: 1k+

Looking left and right before removing the server grate I climb down the access hatch into a tunnel underneath New York. I pull up the straps on my back so that it doesn't scrape on the walls on my way down. I don't even look where I'm going, I just watch my feet as they splash through the puddles and scuff up some gravel with the heel of my shoe. Not even paying attention to which tunnels I'm turning down, I know where to go, my legs will just carry me.

My mind begins to wander to the events of today. School. Such a useless waste of time, the turtles are lucky they never have to go. They would never get tired or be told they fail because of a letter on a page. They wouldn't have to worry about fitting in or fitting out. They just get to live, even if it is in the shadows.

It's not all bad, I have April at school but she's busy and we don't share any classes. But she has my back when it counts. But...some days are just harder than others, and today seems to be that day.

As I come to the last tunnel I can hear the sounds of the guys, Leo is yelling about some skateboard trick and Raph is yelling back, telling him he'll crack his shell if he's not careful. 'He's such a mum' I think to myself, and it makes me smile.

I enter the lair and am witness to one hell of a stunt gone horribly wrong. I watch as Leo dives down the half-pipe doing a handstand on his skateboard. He makes it to the bottom before his weight tips the skateboard and he goes flying into the other side of the pipe. I cringe watching his head collide with the wood. Raph rushed over to him first and Mikey soon after. As usual, Raph is fussing but Leo says he's fine. Mikey looks stary eyed saying "My go! I want to try that" Raph starts to scold Mikey now and a big commotion starts up.

The noise is becoming too much so I sneak around them and head towards Donnie's room/lab. The door is shut but I can see that the lights are on. I know once, twice and whisper 'Donnie, it's me' and wait. A few seconds later in dramatic fashion the door is swinging open, and the light is flooding the floor at my feet. "Come in compadre," he says, and I step inside.

As usual his lab is a mess and his bed even more so. He has half working tech and circuit boards littered over his desk, he has papers and designs laid out on his bed, some even trailing onto to floor. I stare at the equations and diagrams but none of it makes sense to me. And that reminds me why I'm here in the first place. I'm here to see my friends after one of the crappiest days in school history.

Not knowing where to sit I stay awkwardly standing by the door, hugging my arms to myself. Donnie has already gone back to messing with some of his tech but his head perks up suddenly and he spins in his chair to look at where I'm standing.

"What happened?" He says bluntly.

I deter my eyes away from him.

"Judging by your attitude, your unusual quietness and the stiffness of your posture and the fact that you are still wearing your backpack I would say that you had a bad day at school"

Shrugging I still don't look at him as I say "I guess so"

Out of the corner of my eye I see him tilt his head at me. He begins muttering to himself, something fast under his breath, I only catch a few words 'doesn't want to talk' and 'maybe but I don't know'

I look at him now and he's still in full conversation with himself.

"Donnie?" He looks up at me

"Oh yes, right" he clears his throat.

"It seems you may be in need of a..." He pursues his lips, and he looks like he is trying to chew and swallow his tongue as he says, "a hug?"

I blink at him confused, Donnie doesn't do hugs, Donnie also doesn't really do touch. I don't want him to feel like he has to touch me just because I'm feeling down, does he feel obligated or something? No, he wouldn't, because he hasn't done it in the past.

"No, Donnie seriously it's fine. I'll be fine" I take a small step back and hug my elbows to my chest.

He looks down at the floor and then chews his lip "If you want to I'm offering. You can obviously say no, I know how important personal space is, believe me. But if you need one, then just this once I'm willing to give you one"

I look at him, I can see it's taking him a lot of effort to offer this, and I don't want to make him uncomfortable, but I really need this right now. I take a careful step forwards and then another. I unlatch my arms from around myself and open them in his direction. He does the same, and taking the last step, we wrap our arms around each other, his green ones around my tan ones.

His skin is cool and the scales littering his skin feel different in comparison to mine. It's not a bad difference it's just different.

I can hear his heart beat, slowly thumping against my chest. His breaths are a little shallow but I figured as much. He holds me really delicately, like I'm something precious and it's enough to make me want to cry. I squeeze him tighter one last time and let go.

Looking at him, I smile and say "Thank you Donnie, that meant a lot" he puts a hand on the back of his neck and cuffs

"Oh it was nothing" he smiles back at me. Then returning to his usual self he turns back to his desk and calls me over to take a look at his newest invention.

I hope you enjoyed this, it was a little short I'm sorry but I still hope you liked it. Again sorry it took so long

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 1)

Draco Malfoy x Fem!OC

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished.

Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding the use of the imperius curse, reader discretion advised.

“If you ask me, the most mishandled aspect of the wizarding war, will always be Rosanna McVay’s tragic entanglement to the Malfoy family.” The reporter’s voice booms over the radio.

“Oi, give it a rest.” Their cohost retorts.

“That girl was bred like cattle, she lost her entire life to that family. She fell in love with a monster and Draco Malfoy fell in love with the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He enjoys her the way a child does a toy.”

“And that is where we disagree. Draco Malfoy sold his soul to the devil, to save Rosanna McVay; and it’s people like you that’ve forced the reopening of this case, after over twenty years!”

“Pish, posh, the trial was rushed and we all know it. The imperius charm is listed as an unforgivable curse for a reason. The minister for magic, at present, recognizes that in a way that Kingsley Shacklebolt failed to.”

“Hermione Granger-Weasley would not open this can of worms of her own accord, but given the recent outcry, her hands are tied.”

Hermione. Rosanna’s best friend since childhood.

“Scorpius.” Another voice calls, not from the radio. This time addressing him directly.

“Mum, I was just-” the boy begins to defend himself.

Rosanna smiles, kindly. “Finish getting ready for the train, it’s almost time to go.”

“Why are we leaving so early?” The train back to school doesn’t leave for hours.

“We’re driving down this year.”

“Driving?” They’ve always taken the floo.

“Photographers from the paper expect us to come through the floo network. This way will be better, less hectic.” Rosanna explains. “Plus, we have a chance for car karaoke.”

“Right,” Scorpius chokes out. Car karaoke…as if she and his father haven’t been running mad, meeting with lawyers, to clear Draco’s name from crimes committed, against her, more than two decades ago.

Rosanna leaves him to it. Scorpius is number five of their six children. The rest daughters, ranging in age from two to twenty-one.

Their eldest, Leo, followed in her mother’s footsteps, as a proud Gryffindor. Joining the Holyhead Harpies after finishing school.

The second born, Arlo, a Ravenclaw; graduated with honors.

Followed closely by the twins, Vega, Gryffindor and Polaris, Slytherin.

Scorpius joined her, in their father’s former house.

And little Corina is far too young to be sorted.

Draco is still in the kitchen, when Rosanna returns. Corina in her high chair, demanding more scrambled eggs, faster than her father can serve her. Pouting unhappily as she waits.

Rosanna passes a hand over her strawberry blonde baby curls, the same shade as her own hair. Making her way over to her husband, leaning against the counter beside the stove.

“What is it, love?” Draco murmurs, feeling the heaviness in the air around her.

“Scorpius…he was listening to the radio. A talk show.”

“Mmm.” Draco hums, in acknowledgment. “They’ll be on about it in the common rooms as well, I suppose. At least he has Albus, Polaris. Vega will have Arlene and Rose, if she needs someone in her house to-”

Rosanna nods, coming to wrap both arms around his waist and resting her head against the expanse between his shoulder blades.

It’s never been this bad. No one following them to snap a photo or beating at the manor doors demanding answers.

In many ways, their story demands attention for it’s riveting and…controversial nature. Perhaps because there are only two people in the world who know what happened in its entirety.

————————————————————————

Rosanna McVay transfers, from Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry, to Hogwarts at the beginning of her third year. Entirely against her wishes and as a result of her parents, Archer and Dixie, transferring to higher positions within the Ministry of Magic.

"This will be a good change, baby, you'll see." Her mother promises.

At Ilvermorny, students are placed into houses based on the four carvings of the great hall and which reacts to the student in question. The houses represent one part of an entire wizard. Rosanna herself being a proud Pukwudgie, the heart.

Leaving her life, namely her friends and grandmother, who she's always shared a special bond with, to move part way across the world; is the hardest thing Rosanna has ever done. Then again change is never easy.

Once at Hogwarts, she's placed into Gryffindor, the moment the sorting hat touches her strawberry blonde locks.

Rosanna makes new friends among her house mates. Most famously with Ron, Hermione, and Harry; all in her year.

When Rosanna is forced to partner with Draco Malfoy on a class assignment, things go down hill quickly from there.

Fate is tricky that way. Tricky and cruel.

Draco is different. He’s rough around the edges and sharp enough to cut deep where he wants to.

He doesn’t have time for her, the half blood transfer student with whom he’s forced to share half of his grade.

He picks her apart, wondering just how many times he’ll send her off, lip quivering, before the nutter of a professor will stop pairing them together.

But the two of them receive top marks once, twice, three times, four. Rosanna is a good partner, though Draco will never admit it. She works hard and with practice, learns to ignore his jabs.

Until the day she doesn’t. Slapping the quill from his hand, leaving blotches of dark ink on the parchment.

“You’re an asshole.” Rosanna snaps, “I’m getting a new partner.”

���Go right ahead.” Draco waves her away. There’s nothing she can say to the professor that he hasn’t already tried.

A few moments later she returns to the desk, fuming.

“Not getting a new partner after all, McVay?” Draco welcomes her back, with a smug grin.

“Maybe if we start flunking this class he’ll reconsider.”

“You should never cut off your nose to spite your face.” Draco reminds her, “or do they not teach that in America?”

—————————————————————

It becomes a bit of a sport really, getting under her skin. And oh how he does, like a school boy, tugging at his sweetheart’s hair on the playground.

"Do you like butter beer?" Malfoy asks as they're packing up their books for next period.

“Not after you’ve poisoned it.” Rosanna rolls her eyes.

Those big, brown, eyes that send Draco’s insides to a frenzy. If he could… Just once… just to get her out of his system-

"Hogsmeade has the best, straight from the tap." Draco holds her gaze. “Seeing as we’re clearly going to be working together through the end of this year, what harm could one butter beer do?”

His proximity makes her nervous, he can feel it.

Just one time, Rosanna reasons. Just to get him out of her system. “Fine.”

—————————————————————

They kiss, for the first time, behind the little Hogsmeade pub. Realizing too late that they won’t be able to stop.

Kissing Rosanna is brilliant, sweet, like nectar from a forbidden fruit. All swollen lips and flushed cheeks as she pulls away, panting.

“This is a mistake,” she breathes.

“Clearly,” Draco agrees.

But for whatever reason they lean in again.

—————————————————————

This new…tolerance of one another is shocking to their classmates and friends.

“Not to worry about her filthy blood, Draco.” Theodore Nott calls, from his spot lunging on the settee of the Slytherin common room. “I’m sure you can clean it right out of her.”

The room erupts into laughter; hushed whispers follow.

She is one hell of a half blood.

———————————————————-

The Yule Ball presents a unique opportunity for Draco to disappoint his father. He’s going to ask Rosanna, because the thought of Potter’s hands on her waist makes him want to come out of his skin.

Nothing serious though, of course. Lots of purebloods have been known to fool around with those of lesser status before settling down. This was just that.

At least that’s what Draco tells himself as he hand picks a dress for his date. Slipping it into a over sized box and slamming it down on the Gryffindor table, in the great hall, during breakfast.

“Draco?” Rosanna spits up a bit of her pumpkin juice.

“It’s for you to wear to the ball,” he explains. “With me.”

Rosanna shakes her head with a smirk. “Asshole.”

—————————————————————

The night of the Yule Ball they dance until sun up, their feet ache and exhaustion paints their features.

“Thank you for tonight.” Rosanna whispers against his shoulder. She knows this isn’t forever.

“Thank you.” This night, and every night after belongs to her.

—————————————————————

The formation of Dumbledore's Army and the addition of Dolores Umbridge to Hogwarts; creates a unique divide between Draco and Rosanna. Draco takes his place on the inquisitorial squad and Rosanna trains with Harry and their friends, in the room of requirement.

The night they are caught and forced to write lines with Dolores’ special quills, Draco nearly Avadas the old witch.

"Let's see your hand,” Draco snaps. Coming to collect Rosanna the moment they are dismissed.

"It's fine." Rosanna shakes her head at him. "Doesn't hurt."

“You’re lying, let me see.” He insists, consumed by the urge to kiss her wounds; letter for letter.

That’s probably why Lucius finally demands to meet her.

————————————————————

Winter break comes, Rosanna spends the night after Christmas at Malfoy manor. This life simply isn’t for her.

Perhaps that’s why Draco’s parents have allowed her there. To finally scare her away, once and for all.

Though she must admit, if only to herself, that Draco doesn’t really belong here either.

The boy in question creeps into the guest room, where Rosanna is planning her escape. Maybe she’ll tell them she has food poisoning and needs to return home early.

“What are you doing?” Rosanna’s brows furrow at the intrusion.

"Come on." Draco whispers, "there’s something I need to show you." He takes Rosanna's hand, leading her down a number of staircases to the lowest level. It's pitch black save for the light coming from the tip of Draco's wand.

"Are you ready to tell me what the hell it is?" She huffs.

"What do you know about prophecies?" Draco asks.

"Not a lot, but I'm sure you're gonna educate me." Rosanna leans in with renewed interest.

"They're derived from seers, a form of divination. Some are rubbish, the ministry doesn't bother with those. Others are kept in the hall of prophecies." Draco pauses, making sure he hasn't overloaded her with information.

"Following." Rosanna nods, listening intently.

"Only a person about whom a prophecy is made has the ability to remove it from the hall. Same as the prophecy will only speak for those it pertains to. My father keeps it down here." The fair haired boy explains.

"Your dad has a prophecy?" Rosanna asks, tightening the ponytail atop her head.

"No, I do. He brought me down to the ministry last week." Draco moves toward the locked box, on the center shelf of the stained oak bookcase, against the back wall. Producing a crystal ball with white glowing dust inside.

"They call across land and sea." A voice fills the room, the second it touches his hand.

Rosanna cringes when Draco places it into her palm.

"Just listen." He hushes her. Watching in wonder as it continues to speak.

"Born from the dark, through she, redeemed. Born from the dirt, through he, blossoms. Through love and by love, castles will crumble. A lion heart, tried and true; chooses a side the other must lose." The disembodied voice finishes.

"What does it mean?" Rosanna all but tosses the crystal back into its box.

"I was hoping you'd help me riddle that out." Malfoy purses his lips.

The girl wraps both arms around herself, tightly.

"I haven't told my father what it says. I wanted you to hear it first." Draco tells her.

"Do you really think it’s about us?" Rosanna doesn't understand, not really. But she can feel, in her bones, that no good will come from this.

"It spoke for you, same as it did for me. We need to sort out what it means before it's too late." Draco says. "We'll go back to your room and get started."

Part 2

[sealofarchives]

Headcanon mini-scenario: Last Minute Valentine's Day

I didn't have time to work on a valentine's day themed oneshot so most of this won't be edited (separate)

Raph

Used to help Mikey with getting materials for valentine's days cards during their turtle tot days. But, mostly spends the day checking and fixing on the teddy bear plushies he stored in a box or a few in his room

Usually spends a day or two, making your gift and for the others before Valentine's Day

Always worried if you don't like the gift (even for birthday gifts, but you responding with a grin after seeing it, slowly gets rid of the doubt.)

Sometimes wears pink since the color goes well with red

Very happy when you get him a gift but gradually becomes a blushing mess if you suddenly ask him for a kiss

Leo

He's aware of the day but, has mixed feelings since Splinter always bingewatches a marathon of rom com movies (The red slider turtle often tunes out and tries to hang out with you, so he can keep his mind off of the boring films)

Still sort of the last minute type of guy, usually getting Mikey's help with a gift

Tries to play it cool if you give him a gift (still ecstatic about it by the time you go back home)

Sort of prefers, just walking around the block and light conversations if you decide to tag along with him

Has a photo album on his phone with you and him themed towards Valentine's Day

(Donnie is the only one that knows this after fixing his phone from a dare. Because Leo forgot to set the photos to hidden. But, he still gives some subtle advice for more fun photo ideas. Sometimes, following it if you wanted to check out a new place.)

Donnie

Mostly busy until one of brothers, April, or you mention that day

Sometimes plan a week's in advance making something for you. Often handwriting on a piece of paper with pen in cursive. You usually get more descriptive poems from him.

(He mostly uses one sentence for platonic valentine cards for his brothers and April. And sometimes, April teases him about it. Which he often shrugs but, still waits for your reaction to said poem)

He had a few gifts going past the valentine's day deadline, so most of them are on hold (but, ends up forgetting about it so he tries to keep the gifts simple for future notice)

He definitely have a sweet tooth for chocolates but, likes dark chocolate the most

He kept most of your valentine's day gifts (usually papers and small trinkets) in his desk (thankfully the only way to get it open is through his voice activation password but, he set on that day so... he's still not the best with thinking up creative strong passwords lol)

Mikey

Its either arts and crafts or following a recipe to heart themed food

More excited if you want to join him on the fun

And if you had some unpleasant past experiences from valentine's day, he totally gets it. And will focus on making sure you're comfortable around him

Usually asks for your opinion, if he can't decide on two choices (example: making chocolate hearts or creating cheesy valentine day cards)

Always love gifts that are from the heart or thought put into it

[alwerakoo]

Baby Blue (Chapter 11)

Rise of the TMNT Leonardo/Yuichi Usagi Chapter 11 of a longer fic THIS IS PART OF A SERIES - might be confusing to read without context

AO3

---

When he leaves Donnie's room an hour later – Mikey's already waiting for him in the hallway.

He's leaning against the door frame to his studio, arms crossed in a vaguely casual pose that would've fooled anyone but Leo.

“Hey,” he says, feeling Mikey's gaze trace the dark lines on his face. He might still look dangerously close to crying, but he's past the point of caring.

“Hi,” his brother says. He lets his arms fall, holding his hands behind his back.

His eyes are deep in the dim lighting, maroon and stabbing right through Leo. He's always had the most intense of stares.

He looks both timid and stubborn, like he'd fall apart if Leo hurt him now but never admit it to anyone, burrowing further into himself to lick his wounds.

Leo never knows what to do, what to say, when he gets like this – a shadow of his usual self. Sometimes he feels like he doesn't know what to do with Mikey in general.

“Mind if I come in?” He asks, pointing towards Mikey's room with a tilt of his head.

He says it casually, almost like the idea came to his mind just now. It's a lie as clear as the way his hands shake, closed into fists.

But Mikey plays along, shrugging.

“Sure.”

Some minutes ago, when he told Donnie he'll talk to Mikey on his way out, his brother gave him a particular look – the one that said both 'you better' and 'good fucking luck'. And then he squeezed the crook of Leo's elbow in a weird form of encouragement, probably because he started looking like he might cry again.

Mikey steps back inside his room, looking over his shoulder like he wants to make sure Leo's following. It's a quick but strangely soft gesture, revealing something unsure and hesitant.

The room is a mess of papers and canvases, old paint, and other various stains coating the walls. It might be worse than the last time he's seen it.

Leo traces them with his eyes until his gaze falls to the corner of the room, to an obnoxiously orange beanbag. And with it – to the ball of green scales, lying curled up right in the middle of it.

Happy for something to occupy his hands, he crosses the room, crouching down. He raises a hand, carefully tracing a line along the animal's back.

Spot twitches, his spine raising up with a soft sound that reminds Leo of his brothers in a way that almost makes him laugh. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth before he looks up, finally meeting the other boy's gaze.

“You alright?” He asks for the lack of anything better to say.

“Yeah,” Mikey says, even though he doesn't look it.

Dealing with Mikey when he got like this, all high-strung and bitter, felt like taming a snake. And in Leo's case – a particularly spiteful snake with a vendetta.

But he doesn't seem all that angry now, more so cautious, watching Leo from the other side of the room, like he's expecting another fight. Leo won't give him that, and there's something in the back of his mind, stubbornly wondering if Mikey will be disappointed.

“Is, uhm...” He hesitates. There's a part of him that urges him to be straightforward, say what he wants to now. It is not louder than his fear. “Did you make up with your dad?”

He winces immediately, at the same time as Mikey.

It's a sore subject and not a great start, but his brother sighs after a moment, letting his arms fall. He pulls himself up onto his desk, ankles crossed in the air.

“I guess,” he says, which is not really a valid answer. He raises his hand to his face absentmindedly picking at the paint stuck under his claws.

“Alright.”

“He's just so- I don't know.” He goes strangely quiet for a moment, mouth tilted in a grimace. “He keeps saying he still sees The Foot around all the time.”

Leo frowns.

Spot raises his neck, pushing his head into his palm. He scratches at his scales.

“Ok, but I mean, that's, like- The whole Shredder thing is done, right? I thought your aunt took care of it.”

Mikey doesn't meet his gaze, which could mean a lot.

“Yeah,” he says. Then, with a little less confidence: “I hope so.”

There's that strange note in his voice now, like he knows something they don't, and Leo would rather not think about it for much longer. He doesn't like when Mikey gets all creepy like this.

He clears his throat, forcing humor into his voice again.

“Were you really hanging out with Leatherhead?”

Mikey's face goes red, and as if he flipped a switch – he's back to normal.

He leans forward, elbow resting against his knee, cheek cupped in his palm to hide from Leo's gaze.

“What about it?” He huffs, like a puffed-up kitten or small bird.

“Nothing,” Leo says, all casual.

“He's my friend,” Mikey says, stubborn and vaguely annoyed. “I'm allowed to hang out with my friends.”

“Sure,” Leo mocks, but there's fondness in his voice he's not trying to hide.

Mikey's arms are raised high, like he's trying to hide between his shoulders.

“I've read that rekindling old friendships can be good for you,” he mutters, like the last line of defense.

Leo giggles at 'rekindling', before questioning:

“Read where?”

Mikey tilts his head, pointing to the pile of books sitting on the floor next to his desk, arranged into a neat tripping hazard. Leo scans some of the titles before blinking in surprise.

“You actually got some?” He asks.

“Well, you said I should.” Mikey looks at him like he doesn't know if that's a trick question. “I asked April to get me a few.”

Leo wasn't really expecting his brother to take his advice on anything, especially when it came to this, but the pile of self-help books on his floor clearly proves otherwise.

“I'm... Glad,” he says, quietly.

There's a heavy silence that falls over them again, the words on the covers too closely connected to everything that happened. Leo scratches under Spot's chin, feeling the soft rumble of his throat.

He bites on his cheek, gathering courage and words that feel like sand between his teeth.

He opens his mouth, tongue heavy.

“I'm sorry,” Mikey says before he gets the chance.

Leo blinks.

“What?”

“I'm sorry for what I said.”

There's regret on his face and Leo can't stand to bear it. Not when he's the one who never pulled back.

“Don't be.” He stands quickly. “I'm- I should be the one apologizing.”

He doesn't say 'I didn't mean it', even if it's true. He doesn't think Mikey would believe him.

“I started it.”

“I wanted you to,” he confesses. “It was fun.” Then, quietly: “You're allowed to be angry, you know?”

Mikey makes a face, like he didn't know that, and that makes something inside Leo ache.

“And you're allowed to be anything other than angry,” Mikey says. “Do you know that?”

Leo watches him for a moment, brain ticking for an answer.

Yes. No. I don't know how. I'm trying.

“It's-” He crosses his arms, back straight. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be taking it out on you.”

“Well,” Mikey's face does a complicated thing, like he wants to laugh but doesn't know if he's allowed to. “When you're fighting with me, you're not fighting with anyone else. And I can handle you.”

He's talking about Leo like he's a dog on a leash, which might be accurate but still makes him wince.

“It's not your job to 'handle me',” he says.

Mikey watches him for a moment, carefully.

“It's like Cain and Abel,” he says, finally.

Leo blinks.

“Who?”

Mikey looks at him like he's being intentionally dim, once again pointing to his pile of books, and the Bible Leo gave him a lifetime ago – neatly placed to the side of it. That makes the names finally click in his brain.

All he knows about that is the killing part. He hopes that's not what he means.

“You've actually read it?” He questions.

Maybe he sounds a bit too surprised, or a bit too accusatory, because Mikey's gaze doesn't soften.

“Did you not want me to?”

“No, I'm just- I mean,” Leo shrugs. “I haven't, so.”

Mikey blinks.

“You haven't read it?”

“No?”

There's a new expression on his brother's face, like he doesn't know if he should be mad at him or himself.

“I read it 'cuz I thought-” He interrupts himself with a sigh. “Doesn't matter.”

They're silent for a moment before Mikey speaks up again, some of the tension returning to his face.

“'Am I my brother's keeper?'” He quotes.

Leo frowns.

“Well, is he?”

“What do you think?”

They stay in silence for a moment, like the tense moment between lightning and thunder, until Mikey tilts his head a little, giving him a bitter smile.

“But it wouldn't hurt if you were a bit nicer.”

“Okay,” Leo breathes. “How about this. I'll be nicer. And you stop apologizing for being alive.” He stands closer, just so they can be face-to-face. “You want people to stop coddling you?”

Mikey looks back at him.

Leo doesn't know what to make of it anymore.

He's hurt Mikey time and time again and felt him bite back more than he could count.

He doesn't know if they're friends, not all of the time.

But there's something comforting in all of this. In seeing all the worst parts of himself in someone else, accompanied by everything else that makes Mikey so plainly good.

There's something in finding someone who's not afraid to bite back; who knows blood on their teeth and tongue, knows where to hit to keep the fight going – not to end it.

It's scratching an itch he's been feeling his whole life.

They are brothers. Always have been and always will be, that's the one thing Leo knows for certain. He would know Mikey blind, and he would know him in every life, in every death. He would always reach, and he would always feel someone reach back.

They are brothers.

“You're a dick,” Mikey finally says, and he's right.

And Leo's not afraid to say:

“Guess it runs in the family.”

***

Leo doesn't go home that night.

He plans to, and then he passes out in the middle of his brothers' weird bed pit, curled up onto his side with his telephone still in one hand. He's exhausted from days of lost sleep and hours of high anxiety, and it shouldn't surprise him that his 'short nap' turned into a much longer ordeal.

Mikey wakes him the next morning.

Leo's noticed him and Donnie have been spending more and more nights locked up in their own rooms; the small cot in the corner of his brother's bed becoming a little less dusted with disuse. It felt like the natural result of growing up, and maybe a bit like the consequences of Donnie's already chaotic sleep schedule.

It also meant Mikey went out of his way to kick him awake, and that made Leo feel a particular type of disdain.

He reaches to his arms, rubbing at his sore and stiff muscles.

“Ow,” he says in a way of greeting.

“Get up,” Mikey replies. Then, perhaps deciding that was too nice after all: “Bitch.”

“Piss off.”

“Raph called me.”

That gets Leo's attention. He sits up suddenly, like a wind-up toy.

“Really?”

“He said you didn't pick up your phone.” He points to the device in Leo's hand with his chin. “He was worried 'cuz of the...” He stops for a moment, balancing from one leg to the other. “Everything, I guess.”

Leo looks down at his phone, testing the screen.

“Run out of battery,” he explains, a bit sheepish.

“Okay,” Mikey says, seemingly unbothered. “I'm going for a run. Do you want to come with?”

He's dressed for it. In plain sweats, without his cape swallowing him whole, he looks a little older than usual.

“I'd rather die,” Leo tells him.

He likes running, as a general rule. He likes things he's good at, sports being one of them, even if his lungs sometimes make it feel a bit more difficult than it used to be.

Running with Mikey, however, was an entirely different ordeal.

It's early hours for him, but he already seems fully awake, filled with energy. But he always seems full of energy, one way or the other.

April told Leo, once, that his youngest brother made the hair on the back of her arms stand up when she touched him, and he's still not sure if she was being literal or metaphorical.

“Suit yourself.”

There's something different about Mikey now; in the way he's looking at him. Softer, maybe.

He reaches out a hand to help him stand, and Leo grabs it, no hesitation.

***

The Lair feels quiet when he gets back.

His footsteps echo around the tunnels, and he puts a hand to his chest, like he's trying to stifle the beating of his hearts.

He finds Splinter first, which is unsurprising, just as the fact that he's fast asleep, lying out on his chair in front of the TV. Leo lingers, for just a moment, hand on the door frame.

He hasn't spoken to him since that first fight with Raph and he won't now, but there's a pang of guilt that finally catches up to him.

Leo blinks, and in the split moment his eyes are closed, he imagines doing just that anyway. He imagines the things he'd say, the things he wouldn't, how many of both he'd end up regretting. He imagines what his father would say if he heard Raph before – 'You don't hate him like I do'. If it would cut him as deep as it cut Leo.

He opens his eyes. And then he turns, the muffled sounds of early-morning programming following him down the hallway.

The curtain covering the entrance to Raph's room is pushed aside, and Leo stands in front of it, hands held tight behind his back.

“Hi.”

Raph looks up, a small frown formed on his face. He's sat on the edge of his workout machine and he stops mid-movement, one arm curled up, fingers wrapped tightly around a dumbbell.

“Hey,” he says.

There's an odd note to his voice, not quite anger but not very far from it either, and Leo starts to wonder if this is a safe conversation to have while Raph is still holding onto something hard and heavy.

“Sorry I wasn't picking up,” he says, because that's the easy part.

His brother lowers his arm, setting the dumbbell onto the floor, like he can already sense that's not all he wants to say.

Leo wonders if he should sit on the bed but then doesn't, the muscles in the back of his knees tense. He feels a bit like he might just fold in half at any moment.

“It's fine.” Raph holds up his hand, rubbing the space between his fingers. “Raph just got worried.”

“Yeah. I- Yeah. I just had to go and...” He hesitates. “Talk to Mike and Don.”

'Talk' feels like he's putting it lightly.

He's not sure what Raph thinks about that, what Mikey told him over the phone. But there's a slight downturn to the corner of his mouth, like he knows what to expect.

“Lee...” He says but doesn't finish, like he doesn't know how to move until Leo lays out the ground.

“Look.” Leo puts his hands up, fingers interlocking behind his neck. He feels his jaw shift when he swallows. “I'm- I'm sorry. For what happened.”

The words feel heavy, like just saying them out loud comes with real effort.

There’s a knot deep inside of his gut; the strings of everything he's trying to unravel tangling between his fingers.

He wishes it were easier, all of it. He wishes it didn't feel like there's a wall between him and every person he's ever loved. He wishes it didn't feel like he built it there himself.

“It's okay,” Raph says, a little too easily. “Not like I was going anywhere anyway.”

Leo feels his lip pull against his teeth in a frown.

“No. I mean- For earlier. For that thing with, uhm.” He scratches at his throat, like the tightness he feels is something physical. “Dad.”

Raph's face flashes with emotions.

He's a bad actor and an even worse liar, and Leo doesn't believe him for a moment when he says:

“It's fine.”

“No, it's not. You were right, I was being an ass.” He walks over to the bed, finally compelled to sit down. “And about... The other stuff, too.”

'You want him to like you so bad.'

That's not a crime, Leo thinks bitterly, despite himself.

Raph puts a hand to his mouth, chewing on dry cuticles. His tail wraps around his ankle.

“I- Yeah, it's fine.”

It's not, not really, but he sounds a bit more honest this time.

Leo leans back on his shaky hands, head tilted towards the ceiling. There’s a long crack running just along the edge of it, and he traces it with his eyes.

“Do you really?” He asks, finally.

“Do I what?”

“Hate him.”

He can't see his face, but he can hear Raph's long breath.

“No,” he says.

But Leo knows he's lying.

He looks at him again, mouth dry.

“Okay.”

Raph sighs. Opens his mouth, hesitates, then closes it again. Finally, he says:

“But sometimes I want to just turn around and never speak to him again.”

The words come out quick and light, almost like a breath, like he's been holding them back for so long he's still not sure he really wants them out.

But they hang in the air regardless, heavy and tough. They're not surprising, not really.

But it's one thing to hear the crash, and another to look down at the broken pieces scattered on the floor.

“I wouldn't hate you, you know?” Raph speaks suddenly, breaking the still silence.

“What?”

“I wouldn't hate you if you didn't want that. I know it's different for you and him.” He hesitates for a moment. Or maybe he stops, just to make sure Leo senses the honesty in his voice. He can't tell. “I know you love him, kid.”

He says it like it's some sort of painful, secret truth, and it leaves Leo aching. He's been choking on it, that sense of longing and want, for years.

“You don't?”

It comes out harsher than he wanted it to. He raises a hand to his mouth, blinking at the stinging in the corners of his eyes.

“It's like swallowing glass.”

He sounds raw, honest and sure, like he's been holding onto those words for a while.

Then, it hits Leo that this must not be his first time speaking out loud like this. He must've talked with someone about this before, maybe a while ago. Maybe with Donnie. Probably.

He doesn't bother wondering why Raph never talked to him. He already knows the answer.

“I- Yeah. Sometimes, yeah,” he agrees. He leans forward, pressing his elbows into his thighs, the backs of his palms against his eyes. “But I don't want to just... Forget about him. Act like it never happened. I- Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. I don't want to make a decision like this right now. I can't.”

When Raph speaks, there's softness in his voice.

“Maybe you're just better than Raph, then.”

Not in a million years, Leo thinks bitterly.

“Wow,” he whispers, sniffling. “Look at us.”

He's always been this – Raph's first defender. Brewing and carrying the anger he felt his brother should feel.

Now that he does, Leo's not sure what to do with himself.

He looks at Raph again, lowering his hands, and he asks a question he thinks he already knows the answer to. He needs to hear it, anyway.

“Do you think I'm a bad person?”

“No,” Raph says. And he's so quick with it, like he never had to think about it for even a moment. Then he hesitates. “Of course not. But sometimes it feels like you're trying to be on purpose.”

Leo shrugs. He curls up his legs, heels resting against the edge of the bed.

“Sometimes,” he confesses, because it feels like it's his time for it, “I'm scared you're just gonna pack your bags and leave me here alone.”

It's been a thought nagging at the back of his mind since the day Donnie suggested it for the first time. The idea of leaving the only home he's ever known behind.

Except – not really.

Because there was also Raph, his brother, his Atlas, his trust fall. His home.

It's doomed – stay or go. Either way it's a clean cut in half – both sides of his home pulled apart irreparably.

Leo can't bear it.

Finally, Raph stands.

He walks up to the bed, standing in front of Leo.

“I wouldn't go anywhere you can't follow.”

It feels both like an invitation and a gentle promise.

Leo curls up, knees pressed close to his chest. He covers his face with his hands, and for the first time in a while – lets himself cry.

He feels Raph's weight next to him, his arm around his shoulders. He presses a kiss to the top of his head.

Leo doesn't know how to answer him.

Maybe I will. But I won't. I don't know.

He turns, arms thrown around Raph's neck, and buries his face in his shoulder.

***

Later, he passes by the living room.

His muscles feel heavy, and there's pressure in the back of his eyes from crying, blood rushing in his ears.

He lingers in the doorway for a moment, his feet silent on the cold floor.

His father's still in his chair, a heavy blanket thrown haphazardly over his legs, kicked down in his sleep. His chest rises and falls with each breath.

Leo blinks.

He steps further into the room and hesitates, just for a moment, before grabbing the blanket, pulling it further up, carefully wrapping the material around his father's shoulders.

He straightens, a growing headache pounding between his eyes.

There are things pressing at the back of his mind, issues that will need to be solved sooner or later. Questions he'll need an answer to.

But there are parts of his world still on fire, and he needs to put them out before he can start to worry about the ashes.

Finally, he's been facing his own reflection.

And he can't afford to look away now.

[beetleviolet]

(To tune of Spiderman theme song) Raaat-man, raaat-man, does whatever a rat can! From his master learns to fight. Takes down shredder with a single bite. Look out! Here comes

SPLINTER (and origin story)

So I've done minimal research on rats. Like very minimal. Like I know that 1. One breed of rats that are pets are called Fancy Rats (which would be the greatest thing ever if not for fact two) 2. Apparently father rats carry baby rats on their backs. So I will absolutely be drawing that at some point.

Also I accidently used a pen that bleeds so I couldn't color some of the images 😭

But anyway I made Splinter a white and gray rat because uhhh I felt like it. And isn't he cute??? (Yes. The answer is yes.)

Splinter grew up a rat and was the pet of Hamato Yoshi, a ninja master from Japan with the mission to defeat the Foot Clan. Yoshi was asked by a friend to hide a canister of mutagan. The Shredder was after it and it would be awful if he got his hands on it. Unfortunately, the Shredder found out and showed up at Yoshi's apartment complex. It was a long fight, in which it was revealed that the man who had given Yoshi the canister had been killed. Anyway there is an epic fight scene and Yoshi ends up being taken down. They ransacked the room before finally checking Splinter's cage, where the canister was hidden in some sort of rat cage toy thingy under shredded paper and stuff.

Shredder opens the cage and Splinter bites his hand. So Shredder does the natural thing and bitch slaps Splinter and the entire fucking cage out the open window right behind it. This is when it falls onto some sort of moving truck for a turtle sanctuary. This is how I justify using wildly unique turtle species from all over the US, one of which is deaf and wildly endangered. The canister lands on the street and breaks, mutating the turtles and Splinter. Splinter grabs the turtles and runs into the sewers.

Splinter struggled a lot with his kids when they were younger. It was risky to leave them alone, but he had to go to the surface to get food and supplies. As the kids get older its easier to leave them at home, even take them with him sometimes. He is super careful, but at some point Leonardo and Donatello end up getting out on their own. This is what leads to.. the incident (I'm being so cryptic I'm so sorry) (oh wait no I'm not im enjoying this quite a bit)

Things became harder after that. Leo was super scared of his Dad leaving the sewers, and even more scared of leaving them himself, so Splinter went out for groceries when the kids were asleep or got Raph to distract Leo for a couple hours. As they got older they got better. Leo goes out to the surface on a regular basis for errands, so Splinter assumes he's doing great now! (Cough he uh. He's really not.)

After witnessing Rise Splinter, I really wanted to give the boys a positive role model, but I also knew he has to have flaws so. Uh.

Splinter is a good Dad. He takes care of his kids, knows them well, and loves them to bits. However, he just isn't a good teacher. He doesn't know how to hold back in criticisms, which totally reflected on Leo whenever he leads training. Raph tries to compensate by being super nice and supportive, even when he doesn't mean it. It kinda skews the dynamic when Splints is in teacher-mode. Splinter also applies this style of criticism to himself and is super hard on himself about the death of his mentor/owner, Hamato Yoshi. This reflects on his kids more than he realizes, particularly Donnie, and I plan to explore this sometime at the end of or right after the first arc of the comic. Which... we won't get to for a WHILE.

I still need to develope Splints a little more, but since in the present comic we haven't met him, I figured I have some time to work out the kinks.

When he's training his kids call him Sensei, but otherwise they call him Dad, or when they were little they called him Papa. His signing style may be the best next to Leo, his hands are a little quieter and softer most of the time.

[simp999]

A New Home Ch. 16

Various! Splatoon manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

Wc: 1.3k

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“Hey, hey, look!”

You barely have time to breathe after walking through the door of your new home before Leo’s shoving his phone in your face.

He kept moving it around, making it impossible to read the screen.

“We got invited to a party! Starts at 6 tonight!”

Oh. people.

“Who’s all going?”

“Uhh, no idea who’s hosting it, but I heard it should be mostly strong players?”

Ugh, seriously? Those are usually the worst people to be around. Most of them are so stuck-up and arrogant. Well, you suppose that if it’s just a bunch of randos, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to maybe find some new opponents. Your team could always use new sacrifices to test out new techniques in battle. And you won’t have to feel bad about it, with how their personalities usually are. Putting them in their places is always so fun.

You let out a small sigh, and agree to going - not like he was really offering since the beginning. As long as Milo, Tasha and him are going, you should be fine, right?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Wrong.

It’s now 6:08, and it’s so damn loud. The songs may be decent, almost like a 2010’s party mix is what you could best compare it to, but it shook the whole house. You weren’t expecting this many people, either. The lights are off, but there are tons of colored party lights and even a disco ball.

(Optional song.)

You grabbed Milo’s hand to ground yourself, and he held yours comfortably tight, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. There wasn’t much else he could do, but you appreciated his effort. Though, it didn’t help all that much. It’s hard to get distracted and grounded when the source of your uncomfortableness is making its way through all of your senses. At least there was one that you could control, and that was food.

You squeezed your way through the crowd, making your way over to the snack area to find something you liked. Holy carp, that’s a lot of food. You grab one of the paper plates and throw on some stuff that you like, grabbing one of the canned drinks to wash the food down.

Wait, where’s Milo?

You begin to look around nervously, he shouldn’t be that hard to spot, being as tall as he is. Same goes for Tasha. Though Leo’s completely lost in the crowd, no luck finding him unless he decides to make a scene. Which isn’t unlikely.

You can’t search by color, since the lights are all weird, so you look for shape instead. You spot a quick reflection of light right around where his face height would be, then you see his spiky hair.

‘Okay, good. He’s right there. This is fine.’

As long as you know that you can spot him at any time, that eases your nerves. You hold the cold can in your hand tightly, taking a deep breath in.

Yeah, this isn’t your type of thing. You manage to push through and talk to a couple of people that approach you, and you quietly sing to some of your favorite songs once you get a little more comfortable. Anarchy Rainbow, Bomb Rush Blush, and Callimari Inkantation, to name a few. They had a lot of nice, upbeat tunes. But, as expected, it starts to feel way too loud again, and this time you try to find a way out. You need to escape, even just for a bit, before you start to feel too overwhelmed again.

You climb up the stairs to the second floor, and notice that the sound is definitely more drowned out up here. You open a couple of doors, trying to find the washroom. You mostly just find a couple of spare rooms with beds. One of the rooms was completely decked out with Dj-like stuff on the walls, but it seems the kit was missing. Guess that’s what they’re using downstairs.

You open another door and, man, this is nowhere near anything you could have ever expected.

Four cephalopods stare back at you. There’s one sitting on a beanbag chair, in front of a tv, playing some video game. Squid Racer, you’d recognize the characters and OST any day with how often Leo likes to play. There’s another at a table, who’s writing down in his manual. The third is sitting near the tv, with a lollipop in hand. You could have guessed that he was watching the other one play Squid Racer just before you walked in. The last one is now right in front of you.

“Hey, sweetheart! You did get my message! I’m glad you came~I was afraid you wouldn’t show,” He throws on a fake pout, but quickly replaces it with a friendly smile, “What brings you up here?”

“Leo showed me the invite, I had no idea you were the one throwing the party. Should have guessed, though.” You avoid the last question, not wanting to seem weak in front of such strong players.

“Aw, not happy to see me?”

“Nono, I am, I just wasn’t expecting to find you guys here, is all!” You wave your hands dismissively, trying to prove your point. You can’t look at them directly, this is way too much to handle right now.

He gently puts a hand on your upper back, in a way that silently asks if you’re okay with it. You allow it, and he brings you into the room and closes the door. You immediately take note of how much quieter it is in this room specifically, it’s almost like this room is made for this.

“Ya wanna stay in here for a bit? Parties can get pretty loud and overwhelming, I get it.”

Of course. Of course, somebody of this skill level would see right through you, you should have expected that.

You let the smile drop from your face for a second, and slump down to the ground to relax. The coldness of the ground feels so nice, this is exactly what you needed.

“Thanks ‘loha. Seriously, I mean it.”

He doesn’t question the nickname, he must have misheard you. He’s a little surprised at how casual you seem, but it might just be because of how you’re feeling.

“ ‘Course! Where are your teammates? They ditch ya? I’ll kick their-”

“No, no, they’re having fun. They were all hanging out with other people, making friends n stuff - hopefully, - and I don’t wanna ruin that for them.”

“They’re terrible teammates if they don’t help you out when you’re in need of it.”

“Nah, my teammates are awesome and would do anything for each other. …That’s exactly it, though, I want them to enjoy themselves and not have to worry about me.”

You wonder if maybe there is something bigger than this, another reason at the back of your mind. Do you not want to seem weak? You shake your head, 

“I wasn’t doing too bad, I got away before it started to really suck.” You get up, dusting yourself off, then go sit next to Skull on the couch. Not right next to him, obviously, but there’s a comfortable distance.

“As long as you’re feelin’ better.”

Mask finally finishes his round, and he leaves the in-game lobby. You tilt your head in curiosity, wondering why he’s leaving. There’s no way in sub-weapon hell that he’s going to actually join the party, you know that for a fact.

Instead, he looks back at you, then gestures to the beanbag chair a little farther off in the corner. You clue in, and go grab the chair, and set up next to him. He’s already grabbed the second controller, and waits for you to get comfortable before handing it over.

“Hope you knoooow I’m not going eaaaasy on you.”

“Better not, ‘cause kicking your ass won’t feel as good.”

You shoot him a playful smirk, and you let the round begin.

This is so much better than being downstairs. 

Next part

May.12.23

[urmomsspeciallady]

Chapter Two- we've been here before

sign of the times - harry styles

POV: Kenneth McCormick

It's always the same, always the fucking same. God has some shitty sense of creativity, that’s for sure, but I've gotten used to it by now.

I swing my legs off the side of my bed as I look into my subpar-mirror. I'm still in my parka, still in my jeans, and still in my boots. How the hell did I sleep with boots on? Then again, how the hell did I wake up?

I walk up to my mirror, checking for anything different. I tilt my head in a few different angles and to no avail I seem perfectly fine. Freckles and handsome features, if I do say so myself, all in tackt.

Atop the mirror, covering some cracked pieces, sat a brightly colored paper. I peel it off and feel my heart melt.

Today is going to be an amazing day! - Butters

( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

I’m glad I saved this, it's not often I get notes like this.  I caught a glimpse of my reflection as I placed the note back. It's been a while since I've seen myself smile.

---

My boots crunched on the iced-over grass. With another long day ahead of me, I really wish I could just.. Take a break sometimes. 

"Hey, Kenny." Kyle greeted me as I made my way to the bus stop.

"Hey, Kyle. Sup, Stan."

My friend Stan turned his head towards me faltering for a second, "Hey Kenny. You alright?"

What? The fuck? Does he remember even just a little? "Hmm, why?"

"The bags under your eyes are insane." Never mind. Screw my luck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, that’s just part of my charm.” I give him a smile and Stan snickers at me.

“Yeah, charm’s the word you want to use here.” I elbow Stan and we exchange “fuck you”s.

“Go to bed earlier tonight,” Kyle makes a suggestion.

I pat a hand on his back. “If only it were that easy.”

Wind whistled by as we stood, it was now quiet. Even Cartman was quiet, which is surprisingly uncharacteristic for him.

"Goddamn asshole’s gonna make me miss the bus." And there it is.

Kyle, frown painted across his face, shot back "Yeah, out of anyone here you are the LEAST likely to wait for Butters."

"It’s not about waiting, it’s about what I need and what I need someone smart enough to do my math homework on the bus. See, I had asked you but you declined. You’d think Jews would be good with numbers."

"Fucking shut up, Cartman."

I think everyone grew out of those jokes but Cartman. Then, to be fair, I think we've all grown up since then but Cartman.

The silence returned. Soft flakes of morning snow began to drift. Light blows of wind brushed past sending small specks of snow to melt on my face.

I pull my phone out to check on the time. 3 more minutes. I scroll through my home screen, attempting to pass time. 

Eventually, I heard footsteps rushing towards the bus stop. Turning my head up, I see Leo.

"Hey, fellas!"

My phone goes back into my pocket before I pick my hand up to wave.

"You were almost late."

Why can't this fatass shut up? I mean, he managed it a few minutes ago.

"Oh yeah, I had a hard time sleeping. But I did make it, didn't I?" Leo's face was flushed, and he was slightly out of breath. He must've woken up late again.

Loud creaks of bus tires stop my train of thoughts and Stan starting to get on the bus helped my body catch up.

Passing the aisles, I find my seat and sit down. Cartman sat in the seat across from me. Is he really fucking pulling out his homework? He catches me looking and I send a glare his way. That seemed to scare him enough.

Leo made his way down the aisle and slid in next to me. The bus ride had started yet he sat still, staring out the front window.

"Good morning." I smiled at him, though he hadn't even turned my way. His eyes stuck following the line of trees out the window.

"'Mornin, Ken."

My eyebrows furrow. Something seems off but it's alright honestly. When is it not off in South Park, Colorado? (What kind of fuckass sentence is that?!)

The whole bus ride, no other words were spoken by Leopold Stotch. At one point he simply smiled and handed me one of his bagels. 

Part of me hopes and prays that the same reason we feel rough for the same reasons. I doubt it, though. I think he knows that something happened a couple days ago, well, yesterday and I think I'm worried about him.

Now, the bus finishes pulling into the school parking lot, I nudge my elbow gently into Leo’s side.

He just stands up and starts walking towards the front doors. My face twists quizzically. He’s never this distant. What is it?

"Hey Leo, you okay?"

No response. Fuck. 

I followed behind him and out in front of the bus. Getting ready to ask again, I saw him turn around and face me.

"Sorry I didn't hear ya; it's so loud on the bus."

Giving a shrug I tell him it's alright and repeat the question. I guess I jumped to conclusions, I tend to do that. He seems to ponder on this for a second then assures me he's okay. Taking note of the time, I poke fun at him and he tags along.

I really like how kind he is, he's easier to hang around with than.. Well.. My other friends. Sure Kyle and Stan had their moments, but they weren't my Super Best Friends. Though he'll never remember: Leo holds that title.

Jesus. Who made me such a poet today? Shakespeare my ass.  I guess that's what dying does to you over time. That or my messed up sleep schedule.

----- end of chapter

< previous ~ next >

[dandylovesturtles]

and finally here's Wilde and Leo interacting because of course I went for blue turtle angst right away

I'd like to write little things for the other boys sometime but no promises

---

Leo yawns and stretches his arms over his head as walks into the kitchen, already characteristically full and lively. Draxum sips coffee while reading the news, Sulley snuggled against his arm while he waits for breakfast. Mikey has coerced Sondheim into helping him cook, chattering away happily while directing their biggest step-brother this way and that. Raph watches the proceedings with an amused expression; Viv watches too, though his expression is only vaguely curious.

It’s not a surprise that neither Donnie or Splinter are here yet, but Leo’s eyes quickly clock one more face missing - not hard, since it’s nearly identical to his own.

“Morning,” he greets, before turning his attention to Draxum. “Where’s Wilde Man?”

“Still asleep, I assume,” says Draxum, flipping to the next page of his paper. Sulley glances up at Leo, then clings more tightly to his dad’s arm.

Tch, like Leo would ever be interested in taking that seat!

He slides past Viv and Raph to the opposite side of the table, just to prove it, but his hand stalls on the back of the chair. It could be that Wilde is just sleeping, but… it doesn’t feel right. Unlike Leo, who likes to sleep in, Wilde wakes up early and is usually here well before him.

It shouldn’t worry him. Wilde could be asleep. Or he could be in the bathroom. There’s a million explanations, really. 

Leo backs away from the chair and slides past Raph and Viv again. “I’m gonna go check on him,” he announces. 

“Fine,” says Draxum simply. Leo tries not to let that response rankle him. Draxum’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, and he won’t act concerned unless he feels like there’s a good reason to. As much as Leo hates to admit it, he can see that Draxum is really trying, for their alternate dimension selves and for them, too. But he’s usually more reactive than proactive. It’s like Splinter, in a big way, so Leo gets it.

Besides, if Wilde has a problem, he usually lets them all know it right away. Which means it’s probably nothing and Leo is overreacting.

He still thinks he should check.

(Donnie accuses him of babying the guy, but Leo isn’t babying anyone!)

He goes to his room first, grabbing his swords so he can portal over to the platform where Draxum and his step-brothers live. It’s only about a two minute walk, faster if he takes the auto-piloted tram Donnie and Viv built, but nothing is as fast as his portals!

Seconds later he’s stepping through to Draxum’s platform, the train cars laid out in a mirror of his and his brothers’. The lights are out in every car, including Wilde’s. There’s no sound; as far as Leo can tell, the platform is deserted.

Still, when he gets Wilde’s car, he takes the time to stop and rap his knuckles against the metal outside, not grabbing the curtain that serves as a door just yet. “Hey, Wilde?”

Finally, Leo hears a sound: a sharp hiss, like someone sucking a startled breath. Or maybe more like a scared animal, threatening an intruder.

Leo tenses, automatically bracing for an attack. Nothing happens, however; there’s no further noise from inside the car.

He lowers his voice a bit, calling more gently, “Wilde? Can I come in?”

There’s a long pause, and then Wilde’s voice, rougher than usual, snaps, “No.”

Leo doesn’t move. “Okay,” he says. “But are you alright in there?”

Another sharp breath, and Leo knows he isn’t. His mind whirls over the possibilities of what it could be: nightmare, fight with one of his brothers, fight with Draxum, general pain from his injuries. Any number of things can set Wilde off. Except this doesn’t feel like his normal rage and fury; this feels more like fear.

“I’m fine,” comes the lie, finally, and Leo sighs.

“Come on, bro, it’s me. You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I don’t- I won’t-” Wilde lets out what was probably meant to be a frustrated growl, but pitched too high - whine territory. “Talking won’t help.”

“Okay,” Leo agrees easily. “So what will?”

Wilde says nothing. The silence stretches out interminably.

Leo knows Wilde just told him he couldn’t come in, but he can’t take this anymore. Something is wrong. What if Wilde is injured, or sick? He grits his teeth. Establishing trust with the guy has been hard, and he knows he’s about to damage it, but he feels like he can’t just stand out here.

“I’m coming in,” he announces, then pauses for several seconds longer, to give Wilde time to protest, or come out himself. When he doesn’t, Leo pushes the curtain aside and steps in.

Wilde’s in his bed, the covers pulled up to his chest, clenched in a tight hand. His eyes are wide and unblinking, and he lets out a series of clicks when Leo steps closer, high and terrified. They sound involuntary, like Wilde just can’t hide how scared he is, which shocks Leo into stopping again. He’s always seen Wilde lash out. He’s never seen him cringe back.

Leo holds up his hands, his voice low and gentle. “It’s alright,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” It’s the tone he uses when Raph has one of his really bad nightmares, the ones that make him think the Krang still have him. 

Wilde doesn’t look like he believes that. Maybe he feels like he can’t, because of whatever it is that made him this scared. Leo takes another step forward, Wilde clicks, and Leo stops.

“Okay,” he says, then lowers himself to the floor and sits, cross-legged. Wilde’s train car is a lot cleaner than Leo’s own, maybe because it’s the first space he’s had that’s really his, or maybe because he’s afraid of what will happen if it’s not. “I’m just gonna chill here until you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Wilde clicks a few more times, then goes silent. He’s still watching Leo, wide-eyed and unmoving. Leo keeps his own posture as relaxed as he can, keeping his eyes focused more on the bed itself than Wilde’s face, and tries not to fidget while he waits for Wilde to calm down.

Actually, something about the sheets seem… off. Like there’s something missing. But Wilde’s prosthetic isn’t in its stand by Wilde’s bed, so it must be-

Wilde suddenly sags against the wall of the train car, and Leo sits up straight. His step-brother is shaking, but he tentatively stretches his fingers in Leo’s direction, and that’s all Leo needs to hop to his feet and move to the bed.

“Hey, there’s my Wilde Guy,” he says, grinning as he settles onto the mattress by Wilde’s legs. “Ready to tell Leon what’s wrong?”

Wilde actually manages a little bit of a glare, though it lacks its usual intensity, tempered by fear. “Don’t you already know?”

“I swear that I don’t,” says Leo seriously.

Wilde is again slow to answer and Leo doesn’t push him, just waits, holding out a hand in invitation. Wilde doesn’t take it, but the offer seems to communicate Leo’s sincerity.

“...Someone stole my leg,” he finally grumbles.

Leo would almost have assumed that was a joke, except he knows Wilde completely lacks his characteristic Leo Humor. Which means he’s serious, and which also explains why the covers looked so misshapen to Leo earlier.

But who would even take Wilde’s leg? He can’t think of any reason why… Oh.

“Oh,” says Leo, frowning. He should have anticipated this… “I bet Donnie took it.”

“I’LL KILL HIM!” Wilde shrieks, lurching forward and nearly overbalancing into the floor. Leo jerks out of his relaxed slouch to catch him, mentally chastising himself. He should have said that a lot more carefully.

“Hold on, hold on!” he begs, setting Wilde back straight on his pillows. “I meant, he probably took it to do some tech stuff to it!”

“Like what?” Wilde snarls, except it’s pitched too high again, and Leo realizes he’s genuinely scared of what Donnie might be doing with his prosthetic. Almost like…

Leo swallows down the sudden knot in his throat and tries to smile, like everything is fine, even though he knows it isn’t. “He gets it in his head that he has to improve things for people,” Leo explains. “He thinks he’s making it better.”

“I don’t want better, I want it on my leg!” 

“Yeah, and that’s totally fair,” Leo agrees quickly. “He stranded me once like this, too, when I was still on crutches after the Krang invasion. Just took them one night without saying anything.”

Wilde stops struggling against him, but Leo can still feel him trembling. “So he does this kind of stuff a lot,” he says quietly.

“He doesn’t mean anything bad by it,” says Leo. “But I know it’s super frustrating. I get it.”

“Do you?” Wilde snaps, and Leo thinks that maybe he doesn’t.

“...Look. I’m sorry that my dum-dum brother stranded you here without another way to move. And I’m sorry that it scared you.”

“Not scared,” Wilde mumbles, and Leo lets him have it.

“But no one’s going to hurt you here, little bro.” He turns his grapple into a hug, tucking Wilde under his chin, and is surprised when he isn’t immediately shoved away. Wilde really is terrified. “No one’s gonna hurt you,” he repeats.

Wilde doesn’t relax. He’s stiff in Leo’s arms. But he doesn’t argue, so Leo accepts it for now.

oh yeah so Yes pretty overwhelmingly won the poll so you guys only have yourselves to blame for seeing this nonsense I will probably not do much more with lol

anyway I've been mentally calling it the Draxum's Kids AU or Step-brothers AU because I didn't come up with anything creative

high level premise is that, due to ~mystic shenanigans~, Draxum from the OU (post-movie) gets pulled through a portal to another dimension, about a year behind the OU dimension, where he kept the turtles and accomplished a lot of his human eradication goals but was also a terrible father. Draxum sees the writing on the wall that his AU self's foolish actions have led to an impending apocalypse and finds the AU's Mikey (who is only called Boxshell) to help him get back to the original dimension. But as soon as he meets back up with Boxshell his Dad Instincts kick in and he realizes he can't just leave "his" kids here to die, so he decides to kidnap all four of them back to the original dimension.

this is complicated a bit by all of them hating each other

under the cut is about 3000 words of Draxum getting abducted

Draxum would really appreciate it if they could make it six months without a potentially world ending threat.

This one seems particularly suspicious. Giant black swirling vortexes giving off massive mystic energy signatures don’t simply <i>appear</i>, not for no reason. The fact that Michelangelo had been the first to notice it, cocking his head to the side like a bloodhound hearing a rabbit, was not putting him at ease, either.

“Soooo,” says Leonardo, swords already drawn and held loose at his sides, “what is it, Draxy?”

That is not his name, but because the situation is serious, he answers anyway. “You expect me to know? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Come on, you’re our mystic guru! So get with the guruing!”

Draxum just gives him the look that the kids are coming to call his “not mad, just disappointed” face. He doesn’t have any more answers than he did two seconds ago. On the plus side, it doesn’t seem like anything is coming <i>out</i> of the dark swirly vortex, nor is anything getting sucked in. It’s just hanging there, in the sky over the Hidden City, menacingly.

“Doesn’t it feel familiar?” asks Michelangelo. Unlike Leonardo, he still hasn’t drawn any weapon. He’s just watching it, curious.

“I don’t remember the Krang portal looking like that,” says Donatello. “We could see the Prison Dimension on the other side. That’s just… an indistinct vortex of doom.”

“Not like the Krang,” says Michelangelo, but he doesn’t offer any further guesses. He just watches it with big eyes.

“But we gotta do somethin’ about it, right?” asks Raphael. “We can’t just leave it up there.”

“Well, if it’s not hurting anyone,” says Leonardo slowly.

“Just because it is not doing anything in this instant does not mean it will stay that way,” says Draxum.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonardo slices through the air, a blue and less chaotic looking portal opening up. “Let’s check it out, Dee. Get some energy readings and all that nerd jazz. The rest of you, stay here in case it’s dangerous.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if it’s me,” says Donatello, but he steps up to the portal anyway. 

Draxum feels uneasy, because he doesn’t know what that thing is or what it will do, and because he doesn’t want the two of them going alone. “I’ll come with you,” he says, and when the kids give him a look, he quickly adds, “I may notice something that Donatello would miss.”

“I don’t <i>miss</i> things,” Donatello snaps back, but that’s factually untrue, so Draxum just grunts in response to it. 

“Sure, goatman cometh,” says Leonardo airily. “Let’s just go!”

Just to be sure nothing bad will happen, Draxum steps through first. The twins follow him.

They’re on a rooftop now, just under the vortex. Draxum had been expecting… something, but there are no threats, no signs of anything amiss. It’s a bit windy, and the vortex is making an ominous buzzing noise, but that’s all.

“Can you tell anything from here?” asks Leonardo, looking between the two of them. Donatello has his goggles down and a holoscreen up, incomprehensible numbers scrolling by at a fast pace. For his part, it seems the same to Draxum here as it did across town.

Donatello’s readings slow, and he raises the goggles again. 

“It’s… definitely massive, but I can’t tell much more than that. Though… I think Mikey was right. That it feels familiar.” He looks at his brother, something complicated in his expression. “Like we’ve seen something like this before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” says Leonardo, before turning his attention to Draxum. “How easy is it to make an interdimensional portal, anyway?”

Draxum snorts at this question. “For a pocket dimension, relatively simple. For an actual, separate world… Theoretically, it could be done, but it would take a massive amount of mystic energy and decades of experience. Especially if one does not have a mystical object to channel a portal through, like the key that was used for the Krang’s prison dimension.”

“But Mikey was able to do it,” Leonardo points out.

“Yes. And need I remind you it almost killed him.”

“You needn’t,” he snaps back. “I’m just saying… <i>if</i> it can be done, it really seems like someone’s trying it right now.” He still has his swords out, watching the vortex warily. “And what’re the odds that they’re coming here for a friendly visit?”

Draxum doesn’t argue there; he’s already treating whatever this is as hostile. Better to assume wrong and apologize later than to let down his guard and let one of his kids get hurt.

There’s the sound of footsteps behind them, and the three of them turn at once, startled. “Well, there’s Mikey,” Leonardo is already saying in a resigned sort of way, like he knew Michelangelo would join them before he gave the command.

“Sorry, Leo,” says Raphael, landing with heavier tread on the rooftop just behind Michelangelo. “He gave me the slip.”

“Guys, it’s fine!” Michelangelo argues, in that tone he uses when he feels like he’s being babied. “I’m telling you, whatever’s making that portal isn’t here to hurt us.”

“And you know this based on what evidence?” asks Donatello.

“It’s a feeling!”

“Ah yes, feelings, how quantifiable.”

“Well <i>you</i> don’t have any evidence it’s evil either, Donald!” Michelangelo retorts.

Draxum is about to step into the middle of this quarrel when Leonardo stops it for him.

“Guess we’re about to find out who’s right,” he says, eyes locked on something above them, and Draxum looks up just in time to see that there’s <i>movement</i> coming from the vortex now. “Dee, take Raph; Miguel, you’re with me.”

“Wait, guys, we should just-” Michelangelo tries again, but a shimmering blue portal under his feet stops him. Leonardo and Michelangelo reappear in the sky above, Leonardo using his portals to stay airborne while Michelangelo catches himself with his mystic powers. There’s the roar of a jet, and then Donnie is after them, his shimmering mystic tech carrying himself with Raphael dangling underneath.

And of course they’ve left him on the roof. Draxum sighs. <i>Children</i>.

He pops several vines on the roof and uses them to propel himself skyward, eyes searching for what has come through the portal, if that’s what it is. It’s difficult to see against the black coloration, but the boys seem to have gathered under a figure in a dark cloak, who emerges slowly from the middle of the vortex. It seems to cling to them like dark, black ink, the mystic energy drawing out behind them in long, gooey ropes. 

Draxum knows he is still many meters away, but even still, he doesn’t think the figure is very large. It’s a surprise, given that the vortex itself is at least fifteen or more meters across, but the figure coming out is short and slight, not even as big as Michelangelo. Of course, that doesn’t mean much; plenty of yokai are small statured naturally, as are some humans. Even Lou Jitsu is small, now, but still mighty. He can’t let the size of the person put him off guard, especially when they have summoned such massive mystic energy.

“Hey!” cries out Michelangelo. “Can we talk to you!?”

The figure in the cloak seems to startle at being addressed. For a moment, they hang in the air, the ropey energy of the vortex growing thicker on their arms and legs. Almost like it’s trying to pull them back.

The figure seems to realize this, too, because they jerk forward and raise their arms in a panicked arc.

Fire comes out - dark flames with incandescent blue cores that Draxum knows are hotter than any normal flame. If the boys are struck, the damage will be severe. Thankfully, Michelangelo yelps and whirls aside before he can be burned.

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking!” calls Donatello.

“That’s alright,” yells Raphael, his ninpo lighting his body red, “because <i>I’m</i> interested in smashing!”

The midair fight begins in earnest now, the boys darting around the figure with their weapons drawn, even Michelangelo. The cloaked figure fights back with the flames, dark and so hot that as Draxum’s vines carry him closer, he can feel the heat coming off of them. Yet, despite the intensity of the attacks, Draxum notices that they are unwieldy and unpracticed, like the wielder has no real experience in fighting, and certainly not midair against so many opponents. Add to that, the strange, inklike properties of the still-spinning vortex seem to be actively trying to pull the figure back; each time they make progress, the moment their attention is drawn by one of the boys, they’re yanked back another few feet.

Draxum sprouts a few more vines off his main one, so that he can move more freely. Aerial combat has never been his forte, but he can make it work. So long as none of those desperate fire attacks burn through his vines and send him tumbling to the ground (he can only hope, in that event, that one of the twins notices him). 

The cloaked figure is still attacking wildly, and the boys have to move fast to keep out of the way. It’s easier for Michelangelo and Donatello, who can stay airborne indefinitely; Leonardo, meanwhile, has to use his portals to catch himself and Raphael periodically, portalling them back to the sky or giving them a portal to ground to launch off of. This leaves them open to attack.

Draxum couldn’t have made it in time if he’d wanted to, but in the moment he isn’t thinking he has to.

One of the unfocused black flames strikes Raphael; his ninpo projection protects him from being harmed, but he still lets out a gasp of surprise as it burns rapidly through the ninpo itself, leaving him exposed. Donatello swoops in to catch him before he can fall, and all the boys hang back for a moment, stunned by this development.

“What was <i>that</i>!?” Leonardo calls out, portaling above Donatello and landing on his constructed battleshell (Donatello says, “Oof!” loudly, but doesn’t throw him off). “It just burned through Raph’s shield like it was tissue paper!”

“Augh… that felt… weird.” Raphael is rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “Raph did not like that.”

“Alright, clearly this guy is dangerous.” Leonardo is tense, eyes focused as he watches the cloaked figure yank free of the stringy ropes of magic from the vortex, coming closer. “But see how the portal’s trying to pull them back in? We just gotta get them close enough and send ‘em back where they came from.”

He glances over at Michelangelo. Draxum looks, too. The boy’s brow is creased, like he isn’t happy with this outcome, but his eyes are focused on Raphael.

“...Yeah,” he says finally, and gives his nunchucks a swing. They light up with his orange ninpo, the bright fire a stark contrast to their enemy’s dark flames. “Let’s send ‘em back!”

The boys spring back into action, and Draxum follows suit, his vines carrying him up, closer to the vortex. Now he can feel more of the thing’s power directly, a great gusting wind that pulls rather than pushes. He hangs back from the direct fighting and instead watches the boys closely, should he need to intervene the way he hadn’t for Raphael. If the fire can eat through their ninpo, then any of them being struck would be disastrous - especially if one of the others could not catch them in time.

The kids are succeeding in their gambit to push the figure back towards the vortex, but that means they are also increasingly putting themselves in range of its dangerous reach. The ropey strands of dark mystic energy reach out like hungry tendrils, latching onto scales before being cut or shaken off. Leonardo has all but abandoned the fight against the figure and instead puts his efforts into slicing the strands apart any time they touch one of his brothers, either directly with his katana or with a well placed portal. He leaves the strands that attach themselves to the mysterious person, and they wrap more firmly around the legs, arms, and neck of the one in the cloak.

And that’s when they finally speak.

“No!” they cry out, in a voice unmistakably juvenile. “No, please! I just want to escape - don’t make me go back!”

Michelangelo stops short, bobbing uncertainly only a few meters from the screaming figure (a boy, Draxum thinks, but cannot be sure). “Guys,” he says hesitantly, lowering his weapons. “I really think we should-”

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by a burst of flames from the cloaked boy’s hands, spiraling directly towards him.

“MIKEY!” shout several voices at once; Draxum only realizes a beat later that one of them is his. He’s the closest, and he moves fast, putting himself and a wall of vines between the flames and his son.

The flames make such short work of the vines, it’s almost comical. Draxum watches as the fire races down the towering stalk he’s made, eating them away and leaving nothing behind, not even ashes. The vine Draxum was standing on is, of course, completely obliterated, and he feels the swoop in his stomach as gravity starts its relentless pull.

“Dad!” he hears Michelangelo call out. The boy reaches a hand toward them, and in his panic Draxum reaches back. They are only a few meters from each other, and then less and then less, fingers almost touching-

But it is something else that grabs him first.

The vortex’s dark energy feels disgusting and slimy where it touches Draxum’s fur, like a leech pulled from some noxious bog. Its tug is ferociously strong, and he realizes that if Leonardo had not been quick, if the magic had wrapped around any of his brothers’ limbs the way it’s wrapped around Draxum’s arm, disentangling them would have taken massive effort. As it’s going to take to free him now.

There’s a yank, and he’s ripped away from Michelangelo and towards the vortex.

“No!” screeches the cloaked boy, and sputtering flames spill out around him, forcing the turtles back before they can move in to rescue him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Gladly!” Draxum shouts back, ripping and yanking to try and free his arm. “Just close this foolish portal and go back where you came from!”

“I <i>can’t</i>!” the boy screams, and he sounds so wretched, Draxum almost feels some sympathy for him. “I can’t! I can’t!”

“You must!” Draxum argues, because he can tell. The energy has wrapped too securely around the cloaked boy now; there will be no freeing him. The portal he made is impressive, <i>especially</i> as young as he sounds, but it is not complete. He could not be severed from it, even if they tried to help. In fact, if they fully pulled him from the vortex, it would likely kill the child.

No; he must go back. But… is there still time for Draxum?

“Barry!” he hears the boys call out. They try to get close, but another burst of searing heat from the panicked boy in the vortex keeps them from advancing. More of the stringy ropes of magic are wrapping around Draxum now, on his arms, his torso, his legs. His neck. They yank him back, hard, and he gasps as the air leaves his lungs. The mystic energy slithers over him like a living creature, wrapping him up more and more securely in its snare.

It seems… there is not.

“<i>NO</i>!” screams the cloaked boy, one last panicked, desperate cry, but then his voice is abruptly silenced. There’s a roaring noise, incomprehensibly loud, and Draxum faintly wonders if this is how it sounds when a star collapses in on itself.

The last thing he sees as the portal closes around him is Michelangelo’s face, eyes wide and afraid, mouth open in a shout, hand outstretched as far as it can go.

And then all is dark.

…

When Draxum wakes, he’s laying on the ground in an alley in the Hidden City.

He feels a flash of <i>something</i> markedly unpleasant when he realizes he’s alone: sadness, betrayal, perhaps even, Titan forbid, <i>loneliness</i>. It seems the boys have left him to his fate and gone home.

Then he remembers the portal, and Donatello and Michelangelo’s guess that it was interdimensional. It’s likely the boys don’t know where he is. It’s possible he’s not even in the same time.

Or the same world at all.

Disturbing as that thought is, the part of the Hidden City he can see from his vantage point seems familiar enough. He recognizes this as a part of the old downtown, not far from where he and the kids had been fighting the cloaked boy. Even if this isn’t his time, at least he should still be able to navigate - that makes things easier.

He gets to his feet, shaking the soreness out of his limbs. He hears something pop, and is suddenly immensely glad the boys aren’t here after all. He’d rather not endure another round of teasing for being “old”.

The Hidden City he travels through seems largely the same as the one he left, to a degree that he starts to wonder if it wasn’t an interdimensional portal after all. If it was, the dimension he’s in now seems to have only slight variations.

Or that’s what he thinks, until he makes it to the nearest portal back to New York City.

There’s a checkpoint set up in front of it, one that didn’t exist here before. There are guards standing sentinel, ushering through a line of yokai and occasionally asking questions. They don’t seem hostile to the yokai, but it does seem like precautions need to be taken for… some reason.

More startling to Draxum are the crests that adorn banners hung around the checkpoint, matching emblems blazed on the uniforms of the officers.

His family’s crest.

It seems this dimension is quite different after all.

[iheartchv]

Hello! How're you doing? 🥰 I've got an idea: Their S/O can draw very well, and the boys didn't know about that. How would the boys react if they find their S/O's notebook and see her/his art, including a drawing of them?

Thank you 💜

Im okay ^^ hope everythings been alright for you as well, and hope this is alright♡♡♡

Leo:

He sees your notebook sitting on the couch

But he doesnt remember seeing you come in or leave

He figured you left it accidently

Hes wondered what made you smile whenever he seen your pencil move across the paper

Plenty of times when he was in the dojo training/improving a technique, he saw you sitting with the book in your lap

He knew he shouldnt without your permission (whether youd let him or not), but he wanted to see what artwork his angel has done

Opening the cover he finds sketches of people, Japanese inspired designs, and stops when he sees himself

The way you payed attention to the details of his muscles, scars, the design, dips and curves of his shell was impressive

It looked like he was looking at a black and white picture of himself

A smile spread on his face and warmth spread through his body

"Youre so talented, my love"

Raph:

The notebook was sitting randomly in the lair

He saw it and figured it was Donnie's or Mikey's

He sighed, a bit annoyed

He knew Splinter or Leo would probably wonder whose it was

So he decided to go put it in one of their rooms

However when he opened the book he saw your name inside

He didnt know whether to just put the notebook down or look through it

Hed be lying if he said he wasnt interested

He had always been wondering what you were doing

He opened the book and turned the pages

He was amazed at the amazing art before him

He never knew you were such an amazing artist

However his heart stopped when he saw a picture you sketched of him

It was pretty detailed

He saw how much effort you put into these, into every piece of art

He couldn't stop smiling

"What did I do to deserve someone as awesome like you, babe?"

Donnie:

He found your notebook sitting on top of his

He opened the book absent-mindedly looking for a page to write down some formulas/ coding for new computer programs

He was confused for a second

Like "who erased my equations/codes"?

His stomach fluttered

He respects your privacy and closed it

However, he was curious and quickly opened it back up

He hoped curiosity wouldn't get him killed, as the saying goes

He was met with all the sketches and drawings youve done till recently

He admired how you saw the beauty in everything

He felt his heart leap when he saw a drawn portrait of himself

The lines, the colors, everything was mesmerizing

He'd apologize later

But hes glad to have seen your artwork

You are so talented, and your art showed how you was as a person

It made him fall in love with you all over again

With a smile on his face he said:

"My dove, I love you so much, more than you'll ever know"

Mikey:

He saw it sitting on the kitchen table

You said you needed to use the restroom and hurried

He waited till you were gone and sat down to look inside

He had seen you with that notebook of yours, pencil making light scratching noises

He always asked what you were drawing

It made him feel left out when you didnt tell him or said,"Nothing."

He opened the cover and saw a world of color and shapes

Flowers, dogs, many different kinds of skies

He loved everything he saw

What he saw next made him stop for a second

He saw a picture of himself

He way you drew and colored his eyes, face, scales, everything was flawless

Absolutely beautiful...

It was like he was looking at a reflection of himself

He saw some sketches and studies of different parts of his body

He felt happy to be your muse

"Aw, baby cakes. Your art is beautiful, just like you are"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[hold-him-down]

Wait!!! What did Luke do for his birthday!?!! I want to celebrate him!! Did he make himself a cake!? Did Leo help?! Did flour and frosting get everywhere!? I must know 😍🥳

*gives Luke a leather bound journal with a fancy pen that just glides so smoothly over the paper and belated birthday card covered in glitter*

notes: june year one, so like 10 months in

✥ ✥ ✥ 

“It’s your birthday?” Leo asks, as Luke hangs up the phone. His mother has made something of a tradition out of a 5 am birthday phone call before work. He goes back to packing his lunch, and Leo watches him carefully.

“I try not to make a big deal of it,” Luke says. He pauses, turning to regard Leo. “But yeah, it is.”

Leo smiles, clearing his throat. “Well, happy birthday." He takes a breath before he speaks again; Luke can see him processing it, can see the words forming on his lips, and he waits. He would gladly wait forever, just to hear what Leo has to say. "Do you have a wish?”

Luke chooses his words carefully. “Nothing would make me happier than if you’d leave the house for a little bit while I’m at work. Go to the library, pick out a book." He watches Leo tense at the suggestion, but it's not too bad. "We can read it together tonight,” he adds.

Leo nods, but he's nervous. Of course he is.

“Only if it feels okay, okay?” Luke whispers. “Only if you’re comfortable. Bring your phone, if you do go. If you don’t, we can stop somewhere together to pick one out when I get home.”

Luke’s smile is encouraging and Leo nods again. “Okay,” he says, and Luke can't help but worry he pushed too hard, even if he kept it as light as he could.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

It takes him four hours to get the courage to go to leave the house. He cleans it first, top to bottom. He does the laundry, he makes and remakes his bed. He chooses his outfit, then chooses a new one. It’s not that he’s scared to leave the house. He just. He’ll do it. He’ll be fine.

He puts a few older library books into his backpack, and he gets the credit card. It’s heavy in his palm, but if he dwells on it, he’ll change his mind.

He puts on his headphones and he puts on a coat, even though it’s hot outside, and he spends his time tying his shoes, and he’s… he’s stalling, isn’t he? He double checks that he has the credit card, the phone, the key, even though he knows he has them all.

Leo takes a deep breath before he steps into the open air, and an even deeper one once he’s outside. He almost never leaves without Luke, and even less often since [the bad thing happened]. But it feels good, to be out here. He smiles, shoulders tight. It takes him a long time to step off the porch, but when he does, it feels like a weight has been lifted.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

“You cooked?” Luke asks, a smile bright and wide and so, so happy taking up permanent residence on his face. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

“If you can call it that,” Leo replies easily, teasing. He fills two bowls with boxed macaroni and cheese, two glasses with red wine, and takes his seat at the table. It’s Luke’s favorite, like all time favorite, but he has no idea how Leo knows. He doesn’t want to risk asking him, so instead, he pulls off his jacket and throws it over the table, unbuttons a few buttons around his neck, and takes his seat across from Leo.

They talk easily, about Leo’s day, about a documentary Leo watched, about an art exhibit Luke walked past on his lunch, about nothing at all. But it's everything.

[justplainwhump]

Ridley Dies AU: Turning Point

The Ridley-Dead-AU, everyone. I shall tag these who commented on it, plus the Dany tag list: @distinctlywhumpthing @whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @ocean-blue-whump @just-horrible-things @whumpymirages 

Ridley, B and Leo belong to the wonderful @hackles-up

[Dany masterpost]

Cw for (obviously) major character death and thoughts about it. Very vaguely implied past noncon. BBU (vaguely mentioned). Whumpee married to (dead) whumper. Blood. Thoughts about killing a loved one.

He's dead.

Ridley Lordin is dead. His body is still warm, his  brown eyes still open, empty, staring into nothing. There's a hole between them, slightly asymmetric, towards his right eyebrow. The hole is ridiculously small. Like his ridiculously small gun. Like he is a ridiculously small man. 

I don't know where my thoughts come from. I feel like I'm stuck here, stuck in the present, stuck in this moment, with the cool metal of the small gun trembling in my hands, and warm blood soaking the carpet under my bare feet.

The hole is bigger at the back of his head, of course.

I feel sick.

Next to his body, his cellphone vibrates once. It must've slid out of his pocket. New message. Leo. 

Ridley Lordin is dead, but Leonardo Luciano is still alive.

My head is spinning. There's only one thing I know. I have to leave the city before he finds out.

I step forward. The carpet is sticky. Mingled in his beloved 80s rock music are the smacking sounds of my steps. 

I take his wrist, pausing as my gaze falls on our hands. His wedding band next to mine, his perfect skin next to the scars crossing the back of my hand. "Fuck you," I whisper, repeat the last words I said to him. Probably the first ones, too.

I almost have to laugh, even though I don't know why. Nothing of this is funny. Still, it feels ridiculous.

I place his thumb on the phone's sensor to unlock it. 

Love you. Looking forward to date night. I'll text you when I leave here. Special project needing a little more attention tonight.

Date night. Tonight. Here.

There's even less time than I hoped. 

Without another glance at my husband, I walk into the office, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. I don't bother. Leo will know everything, anyway.

I know the layout of Ridley's office by heart. I've spent countless hours on his lap, even more crammed under his desk, keeping him warm. I know where he keeps his laptop, his paper files, his special thumb drives. I pack them all, throw them into a large briefcase. 

There's a stack of bills in his safe, less than I hoped, but it'll do for a start. I add it to the pile. I also know his credit card pin. I'll be able to get more.

Ridley's phone vibrates again. A photo. Leo's  special project, in what must be excruciating pain.

My stomach twists, as I reply with a chain of heart emojis, just as Ridley would.

I can't help her. I can't help anyone but myself.

Not even -

My gaze goes to B, sprawled over the couch, barely breathing. He's still unconscious, bleeding on his head, his arms, his chest, from the brutal blows Ridley rained down on him.

For me.

He'd punished him for me, because his wife can't have bruises in public, but his pet can. Because he knows B matters more to me than anything else.

There's a tear running down my face. I don't fight it. It's ironic. I wanted to save B, but instead I destroyed everything for him. B can't live without Ridley. He'll fall apart. He'll tear me apart, for what I did. And then, Leo will torture him to death, for his failure.

If I'm clever, if I'm quick, and with a whole portion of luck, there's a chance at freedom waiting for me, just outside.

B can never be free.

There's only one thing I can do for him.

"I love you, B," I whisper. "Thank you for everything. I... I wish it had ended differently."

I lift the gun and point it at his heart, blink back the tears.

"I'm so sorry."

[Next]