themulitipurposechannel

Latest Posts by themulitipurposechannel

Reblogging so I can use this for future reference XD

burned a few braincells trying to figure out the subway lair 🧍‍♂️

some of the research with hasty notes as i, a country person, tried to essentially explain how subways work to my city friends (idk how subways work). anyway, i figured i'd share these in case there's someone out there who's just as crazy as i am! :]

Behold more rough doodles shenanigans of our fav apocalypse kids

Now make your own context ppls 😂

GUUYSS CHECK THIS OUT

Save youself, I'll hold them back by My Chemical Romance

I highly recommend listening to the song while reading the comic btw!!

BEHOLD MY MAGNUM OPUS! Bro this took more than 2 months, in part because I was really busy IRL during one of those months, but even then this was a pretty large project for me compared to what I've done before. BUT NOW I'M FINALLY DONE! 😭 Save yourself, I'll hold them back is just such a Leo-coded song, especially if you include the whole bad timeline, I just had to make something rottmnt-related with it. I actually envisioned this at first as an animation, but I lack both the skill and motivation to animate so it became a lyric comic instead lol.

Ah yes, kids will be kids even in an apocalypse haha..until they’re not here anymore. | Next >

Hey there 🌍💙 I hope you're doing well. Today, I’m reaching out with a heartfelt request. My family is going through an incredibly difficult time, and I need your help to make our story heard. 🔄 A simple reblog of my pinned post can spread awareness. 💖 A small $5 donation could bring hope where it’s desperately needed. @nasergz Even the smallest act of kindness can create ripples of change. Your support means the world—thank you for standing with us! 🙏✨

Not sure If this is legit but reblogging just in case

More doodles!

Let’s goo

Signal boost! Please read if you want to save ROTTMNT!

Resources!

Hashtags: #SaveROTTMNT #SaveRiseoftheTMNT #UnpauseROTTMNT #UnpauseRiseoftheTMNT #SaveRiseofTMNT #RiseSeason3 #RiseTMNT

Who to address your posts to…

Tumblr: @ nickelodeon @ paramount

Twitter: @ nickelodeon @ paramount @ brianrobbinstv

Instagram: @ nickelodeon @ brobtv @ paramount @ tmnt

Blue sky: @ Nickelodeon @ paramountpictures.sky.social

Incorrect Quotes that anyone is free to draw…

Save Rise of the TMNT Masterpost

List five of your favorite or top songs, then send this ask to the last ten people in your notifications! :D

Whoops! Haha sorry for the late response I just saw this 😅 tbh, I can’t choose a fav my so here be my top 5 in no particular order 😜

• if you only knew by Meyta

• Grow into you by Cora Keene

• Canvas and Clay by Pat Barrett

• Times by Tenth Avenue North

• God only knows by King & Country

The kids ref:

P.S: training started as early as five (if the kid made it that long) this is cuz, even if they never made it to the frontlines ( if they got older they were allowed to specialised elsewhere like mechanic work, physical trauma care, full on wilderness training to be a scout etc etc. not everyone was a soldier ) first aid, wilderness, combat skills were essential for obvious reasons.

.

Of course it first started out as very kid friendly games like ninja hide and seek and what not. Basically, think of their training as their version of our education. Also I didn’t include this but all the kids were taught to read and write as part of that training. Literacy is importance guys!

Behold folks yet another DnD character XD ft also my boi Angie lmao

Some miscellaneous doodles for the soul cuz life is kinda lifeing rn 😅

Also possible vigilante oc oh??👀👀

Hi I saw you and @1cat200 mystic crossover battle and I loved the ending! Is it possible for you to draw more of @1cat200 s oc Kana spending time with Kana please?

HI sorry this took so long! But ta-dah! One Kana and Cj interaction as requested aha. I give my thanks to @1cat200 for some tips for this interaction

Fic: Stand ready

Tw: for suicidal idealisation and overall semi-unhealthy coping mechanisms

A Storm is brewing.

Or alternatively, Future!Mikey’s teachings on the importance of healthy emotional regulation vs Future!Leo’s influence of bury the pain away with laughs: Fight!

Or even more alternatively, a look into Cj’s no good, very terrible mental health :’D

_

Cj was making his rounds again. Round and round the large platform that served as a living room, up the stairs towards the boarded up subway entrance.Look left, look right. Look up. Always check up. Go back down, circle around the living room, switch up one or two locations for unpredictability then repeat. Armoured Boots gliding along the concrete tiles in practiced silence.

He knows he doesn't have to do it. Logically speaking he knows there is nothing there. As soon as he could, Donatello or-uh Donnie had this place rigged to galore with motion sensors, cameras, the occasional laser grid that if anyone asked, Case would deny ever being there. Nope. Nuh-uh he saw nothing. Scouts honour, whatever that meant. In the future he had come from, they were always saying funny things like that. Nice to see it remained even now. Funnier now that he finally understood those references. Kidna.

Heck, Cj was there, he even helped wire (under close supervision from the genius but helped nonetheless) some of the circuitry together for a few of those cameras. Even younger and less experienced, the purple softshell was still leagues ahead of whatever modern human society could concoct. And alongside a smattering of future foresight here and there, Casey was pretty sure not even a rat (sorry Master Splinter) could crawl through the grills without Donnie knowing.

But something about today makes the boiling rage-guilt-homesickness-why why why did you leave me?-scream louder, rebelling against the very idea of joining the sleeping family pile together in the living room.

So weapon in hand, Cj walks. Forcing himself into the familiar exhaustion of patrol. Lest he end up kicking one of them or break down crying or say something he would regret or all of the above. Either way none great options. They will welcome him, this he knows. He knows. But here, right now there is absolutely nothing that he hated more than that. Which was absolutely the fuck why he had to go.

(“Master Michelangelo No! You’re gonna-!” He tries to run towards the glowing golden figure, he has to do something. Anything. If he could just pour even a little of his own mystic into his uncle-dad- oh fuckthey’llnevergetto talkboutwhyhecalledhimdad-

But a steady blue grips at his shoulder and holds him back. It smiles sadly. NononoPaSensei pleaseno- Casey wants to wail but the words won’t come. -I can’t go through this again.

Casey can pinpoint exactly when that crackling, soothing fire roars, scorching louder than it ever has, before sputtering out, warm golden-orange swallowed by the uncompromising void the boy had so come to hate, mere seconds before the spotted turtle turns, winks. And shatters into the wind.

Somewhere distantly, he can feel unyielding, passionate green gutter out and shrivel up like the leaves they fry up to eat. So much death. Too much void. And that was only the ones he could feelrightnow- oh fuckPush it down. Push it down.

“Casey..” The pit in his stomach grows. No. But the words choke in his throat and his feet glue themselves into the ruined ground. Damn it! Why can’t he move!?

“..Grab a slice!” The slider does not follow. He hangs back, smiling. Like a burden has been lifted from his shoulders.

Cj can feel exactly when that comforting, fiery, electrifying blue flickers dangerously low, because despite what Pa himself thinks. It was never gone. Never.

But it fizzles out now.

And all Casey can do now is watch in tandem as that disgusting, searing red torches away the man who has guided him his whole life. There is no way to survive this. The medic thinks numbly. He has bandaged blackened, crumbing body tissue he dare not identity from survivors (not for long) just grazed by that. Thing. The facts are in front of Casey. There.Is.No.Way.

He’s not as smart as Uncle Tello, not quick with his words like Pa , or as compassionate like D-Uncle Mi, neither is he relentless as Mom nor resourceful as Auntie April. He’s only always been emotional which is why he has to push it down,down, down.

So he can only scream and scream and scream as the golden-orange that has cradled him all his life carries him far, far away.

Why did you send me away?

Why didn’t you let me help?

Why didn’t you come with me?)

Dee hisses, turning his face away form Case in discomfort. Case panics, causing him to stumble back as the tangle of limbs stirs slightly. Oh shit, he always forgot what a light sleeper both Donatellos were. Immediately, Cj claps his hands over his mouth. Muffling his ragged breathing that had unknowingly pitched itself into high pitched whines while he took that involuntary trip down memory lane.

Heart beating furiously. Even dampened, his hushed breathing still punctuates the silence of the lair. In and out Case. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Uncle Mi echoes in his mind. Shut the fuck up. He snarls back, like a cornered animal. You don’t get to nag me. You’re dead.

Before the sting of regret immediately slaps him in the face. Ohmigosh how can he think that? Mortified, he buries his head into his hands. Ok new plan. Patrol clearly wasn’t going to cut it anymore. He had to do something else. Gingerly, the teen peeks through his fingers to look back at the group, grateful to see that the soft-shell ’s face had once again gone slack the way only proper sleep could do.

With a sigh of relief, Case then marches towards to the sleeping pile. Cj clenches and unclenches his jaw, trying to work out the very words stuck in his throat. “I.. I..” Cmon Casey, he grouses to himself. Fists clenching. Get it together. Just say this once so you can get it over with.

"I.. I’m sorry. " The teen finally spits out, standing over the sleeping faces of humans, turtles and rat alike. So young and so painfully free of worry. "I know you’re not them. And I..” His breath hitches. Years of training and experience kicks in to even out his breathing. Uneven meant loud. Loud meant danger. Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. Deep Sigh. Now talk.

“.. But the people I’m angry at aren’t here. And I miss them so much. I miss everything so much. And that’s so fucked I know.” Casey groans, pausing to quickly scrub away the tears. Terrified that if even one fell, it would somehow wake the sleeping pile up.

“I should have died. I know I should have died. Im just some stupid kid who got lucky enough to be loved by powerful people like you. There were so many people so much better than me you know?” The ravenette warbles, wrapping his arms around himself.

“They deserve to be here. But all you have is me.” Casey cracks,Oh god Miwa, baby-NO. He squeezes his eyes shut. Push it down, now. Otherwise he will start full on bailing which will defeat the whole purpose of this feelings exercise. Push it down. Breathe. Now try again.

“A-and the worst part?” The teen out of time and out of body, throws his head back and laughs bitterly. “I can’t just let myself die because then everything and everyone will be wasted. And fuck-!“ Cj tears at his hair. “I.. I can’t do that to them.”

“And..” Case sighs, hands dropping to his sides. “I can’t do that to you guys either. I promised myself I’ll take care of you guys. And I will.” Calmer, he bends down to get a closer look at them all. My family. His family.

Their peaceful snores finally starting to douse the Anger and grief down to a manageable hiss, not gone. (Huh,guess Da-Uncle Mi was right. Talking does help) Maybe not ever. But today, right now, it released its fangs and uncoiled enough to give way for the blooming softness that always, always thudded beneath his skin. And he’ll make sure it always will. The apocalypse could quite literally come again and freeze itself over before Cassandra Jones Junior ever stopped committing to loving his family. All of them.

“I swear.” He nods his head fiercely. If anyone were awake they would see Cj’s eyes flare up as if glowing from the sheer force of will. “I’m gonna take care of you guys like you take care of me.”

Because he knows these people. They are good. They are so, so good. Even.. even if they will never love him the same. Even if they will never be the people who raised him( he doesn’t want them to be, they were so, so tired). Both were good. Both were so fun and so utterly delightful to be around it hurt. The kind of hurt where you laughed so hard your sides were aching. He didn’t know that kind of hurt could exist till now.

They will treat him well. And even if they didn’t (which they have, he’s so, so lucky they have). Once upon a time, these were once the same people who saw a baby, quietly buried among the rubble, took him in and taught him everything he knows. Despite barely able to feed themselves most days. And that means something to him. It means everything.

And in a way, that was exactly what the present variants were doing all over again. Forging birth certificates, applying for IDs, giving him a room, explaining shampoo, dishwashers, public transport, tv shows, money, making strict meal plans for his sorry,sorry self that couldn’t even stomach bread cuz guess what? Edible Flour and yeast didn’t exist in the apocalypse. Everything. Bringing him into their movie nights, sparring, comic books,lab time, graffiti, magic tricks, news hunting, hockey games.

He still remembers that very first night.

("You're not coming with?" Raphael questions, already halfway out the Medbay.

Once it became clear that was nothing more they could do for Leonardo save Casey's Ninpo that he really, really did not feel up to doing again. The excitement died down and the group gradually began to disperse, grabbing pillows and blankets and heading towards the living room he was previously tied up in. Hah.Good times.

Casey shakes his head. "No, it's alright. Please rest Mas- Raphael." He tries to smile brightly. "Someone has to watch over Leonardo you know? I'm basically the only medic here." Casey shrugs.

Truth be told, Cj wants nothing more than to drop to the ground right then and there. But someone has to monitor the red slider. Pounding headache and fuzzy vision aside (oh shell, this was a concussion wasn’t? Would explain why he’s so irritable) someone had to track the slow but steady up and down on the ECG screen in case things went wrong. He was a little rusty. They didn’t have a lot of those things towards… the end. But he will adjust, he will. It’s what he was here for. He just.. doesn't want to intrude any further.

"Why did'nt you tell us had mystic mojo?"

Something in him breaks

Stop this. I almost killed your brother. I'm just a stranger to you. Why are you being so nice to me? Casey wants to claw at his arms and scream, held back only by the sheer weight of exhaustion and grief that threatens to bury him under.

Just like it buried Pa.

Just like it buried everyone else.

Just like it will bury him.

Unfortunately, Master Splinter did not catch that memo. That or they were more focused on hospitality than he thought. "No. Red is right." Master Splinter huffs. "You are exhausted future boy. You can't do anything like this. Go." The elderly man crosses his arms, using his tail to push him into Raphael's waiting arms. "I will watch over Blue."

"But-"

"C'mon Case lets go." Raphael says gently. A heavy hand that has no right to feel so familiar; rests on his shoulder, guiding him to the living room. Casey shudders, between Leonardo and Raphael it was like being hammered with the world’s worst case of Deja vu.

"There you two are." April grins tiredly.

"Casey!" Michelangelo cheers, making grabby hands towards the boy. They both part from each other to make space for him.

On the far right, his shell against April's side. Donatello spares him a glance before curling further inwards. He doesn't say anything but he doesn't need too. His lack of protest is already enough.)

And it is there right there; nestled between April and Mikey, Raph as a mattress, Donnie curled up at April’s side, And surrounded by more blankets than he has ever seen in his life. Cj tells his already hardened resolve 'I am never leaving them alone'. Even if they never called him family again. As long as they wanted him around, all they had to do was ask. And he will be there. He will.

So yes, the past-er present hamatos were still his family. But was he theirs in return? Or was he just a really good friend? Was he even anything to them at all?

“Bring it in little brother”

“I’m not mad at you”

“I’m not your mother.. but I’m not going to ditch you”

Yet when Case reaches for the warmth that has never ever left him. Not since a ten year old Cj had yearned and screamed and loved with all his heart; let me love you. You are not alone. Let me take care of you like you do for me. Let me fight for you. Let us fight together

It’s cold.

He strains and he strains and he strains. til his metaphorical heart is breaking at the seams-No one answers back.

Not Purple, Not Green, Not Orange, Not even.. Blue.

Thrumming teal pluses sluggishly around his clenched hands before fading out despite all his cloying attempts to keep it beating. Starved of the trust and togetherness that was the very foundation of this clan.

Maybe he deserves it

A rotten boy who left everyone else to die

Some lifesaver he was

Those are the facts. Look for the objective truth. Feelings and words can be Subjective. Casey swallows thickly. Uncle Tello always told him that. So what does it say about the present Hamatos?

A) They were lying, saying all this out of some twisted sense of obligation and no genuine sense of affection. Which scratch that. Even with his foggy memories and what he knows about Casey now. She would never do that. Same goes for everyone else. Family was everything to all of them, even way back here in the past. They guarded that word viciously.

Or B) They were trying for his sake. Or maybe for their own sake too. Trying to fit him into a set that was already complete, but wanting to try anyways so they kept saying it and saying it, In hopes that one day it became true. But it won’t-Not ever. Why would it? What did Case have to offer that they couldn’t already give each other? He almost killed their Leo. He almost broke this family-not quite lying. But not quite telling the truth either. Fake it till you make it as they say. Now; here’s the million dollar question, would they do something like that that?

He thinks of Leo’s breezy smiles but searching jokes.

Donnie’s allowance of him into his lab, but his eyes scrutinise him more closely than anyone else.

Casey’s stubborn once a fortnight ice hockey sessions but firm and awkward conversations.

Mikey’s near constant hand grabbing and pulling and ‘look!look! Check this out!’ at every idle moment, as if fearful of letting Cj out of his sight.

April who jumps at any opportunity to take him topside but scans everything,himself included.

Raph’s near constant,but cautious grip around his shoulders whenever they went somewhere. Unlike his more free, swooping hugs to the others.

Even the occasional spontaneous and mysterious bowl of cut fruit yet halting, stilted exchanges that would occur at his doorway every so often.

Hm.. yes this sounded more like them.

It sours his mouth like rat jerky gone bad. But you swallow it down anyways. Because really what else do you have?

Misplaced Familiarity aside, he has no where else to go. He has no money, no history (Donnie’s forgery and Casey’s manhandling of poor government workers to get him registered under her name, as some previously hermit cousin can only do so much) and no credentials to even hold down a basic part-time job.

Pizza supreme; he can’t even navigate the New York’s train system by himself without getting so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people he got lost, he had to call Casey (cuz Casey had a van to block out the noise) to come bail him out.

He may not know much about the present. But he’s sure as hell not trying his luck on the streets, he could. Nothing can compare to the apocalypse. But he’s pretty sure his mom will find a way to leave the afterlife just to kill him.

“Cassandra Jones Junior I did not get skewered by Kraang to have you digging around the trash like a goddamn cockroach!” Is something she would say. Not to mention the disappointment from everyone else.

And Case wasn’t sure if he could sleep knowing he stole from some poor shopkeeper just trying to live their life. When there was a gaggle of people right here, more than happy to give him an allowance if he so much as looked at something for more than two seconds. He never thought, in his wildest dreams, he’d have to stop younger variations of his pa and uncles from buying out whole stores yet here he was.

This has to be enough.

And it will be.

He’ll make sure of it.

Mind finally settled, Cj stands, grimacing at the sound of his knees cracking in protest.Eurgh boi, gotta love cursed aging and all the weird and wonderful ways the apocalypse hurled abuse at his body. Good thing Leo wasn’t awake. Or anyone else for that matter. They would tease him relentlessly, swearing to add to a growing pile of blackmail he’s pretty sure doesn’t exist for him, yet. Or they would stare at him in suffocating silence with those pitying eyes which was just so, so much worse.

Carefully, Cj sets his weapon down, still within arms reach, and curls himself into whatever empty space within the pile he can find without disturbing them because he knows at least one of them will be up soon, mainly Mikey with his breakfast prep or Raph with his morning workout, sometimes Casey too, on the rare occasions she would sleep over in the lair with them like now. He tries not to let it bother him too much, the mystic warrior he knew was almost always last to rise.

Case tucks his knees to his chest and flutters his eyes shut. So he can at least try and pretend to them that he slept.

This is enough.

HOLY SHEET- this was only supposed to be a small mini side project but alas I forget that finals exist 🥲 but hey, here’s this small piece of fluff (*cough if you ignore the movie opening*) ft; a 6 year old Cj and his Duncle Mi as a small piece of apology for all the angst and silence I threw at yall for the past month while we wait for me to finish my other ideas haha 😂😂

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Audio: YMCA_ZY (Instagram)

What to do if you suddenly find yourself homeless

FOOD

Find your nearest food bank or mission, for food

grocery stores with free samples, bakeries + stores with day-old bread

different fast food outlets have cheaper food and will generally let you hang out for a while.

some dollar stores carry food like cans of beans or fruit

SHELTER

Sleeping at beaches during the day is a good way to avoid suspicion and harassment

sleep with your bag strapped to you, so someone can’t steal it

Some churches offer short term residence

Find your nearest homeless shelter

Look for places that are open to the public

A large dumpster near a wall can often be moved so that flipping up the lids creates an angled shelter to stay dry

HYGIENE

A membership to the YMCA is usually only 10$, which has a shower, and sometimes laundry machines and lockers.

Public libraries have bathrooms you can use

Dollar stores carry low-end soaps and deodorant etc.

Wet wipes are all purpose and a life saver

Local beaches, go for a quick swim

Some truck stops have showers you can pay for

Staying clean is the best way to prevent disease, and potentially get a job to get back on your feet

Pack 7 pairs of socks/undies, 2 outfits, and one hooded rain jacket

OTHER

first aid kit

 sunscreen

 a travel alarm clock or watch

 mylar emergency blanket

 a backpack is a must

 downgrade your cellphone to a pay as you go with top-up cards

 sleeping bag

 travel kit of toothbrush, hair brush/comb, mirror

 swiss army knife

 can opener

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

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

Part: Two

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

This is hope.

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelangelo deserves better than this.

But Raphael is not safe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tap.Tap.Tap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mikey hums, nodding. Resuming his task.

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

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

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

“Oh mi gosh! You too?”

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

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

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

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

If only Leo was here.

If only this could last forever.

But Something suffocates the precious warmth instantly

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

Speak of the ghosts and the ghosts will come.

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

Nonono-

Something withers. something dies.

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

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

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

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

"Where-?" Mikey starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where?

What's going on?

We're all here.

So.. why?

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

Huh?

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

Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump

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

But who?

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

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

Guys. Casey.

On que, the teal heartbeat flatlines.

Oh no.

Before it staggers to its feet. Irregular and slow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A creaking noise grabs his attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grieving understanding darkens everyone else’s face.

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

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

“April no..”

“That’s not true-”

“Green..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go for it.”

“Of course.”

“Always”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no. Oh hell no. Not their youngest.

The explosion of protests is violent.

“Baby, no.” April gasps horrified.

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

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

“Orange, you did everything you could”

“But you guys-” Mikey whimpers.

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

“But.. what about you?” Mikey wobbles

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

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

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

A chorus of protest break out again.

“It wasn’t you!”

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

“It was the Krang!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad..”

“Pops..”

“Oh Splints.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“FIRREEEFIIGGHTTTIINGG LIKE A BOSSSS!”

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

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

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

They think Leo might be proud.

<Prev | Next>

Aww Kana is indeed adorable sorry for the wait and thank you for your patience 😁, Merry Christmas @1cat200 and thank you so much for this fun opportunity! And thus concludes this mystic battle haha! In the end Cj’s grief/deeply buried Big bro instincts just rlly couldn’t be hidden XD , Hanako gets to live(?)another day and Cj gets distracted from pulling Heather back into his draining circle and well.. doing his.. more permanent version of.. ‘his worst’

Heather Hamato challenges Healer CJ to a mystic battle! Be warned, Heather's got top-notch ghost mystic powers and she's a gothic, autistic, bad girl,badass half tiger-half human teen and is a basic mini version of Dr.Delicate touch and mad scientist Tello. Her mystic powers make able to do anything a ghost can including banshee like screams, floating, communicate with the dead, some psychic stuff with her mind and turn in a ghost herself

(For more info on Heather and her twin brother Makoto visit my blog and search for the tags #Heather, #rottmnt next gen, #Makoto and #Rising to the challenge au!)

It’s not cheating XD

Mystic Tech in a Mystic battle haha.

Reblogging cuz the holidays can be a difficult time for ppl

In case anyone is having a bad night:

Here is the fudgiest brownie in a mug recipe I’ve found

Here are some fun sites

Here is a master post of Adventure Time episodes and comics

Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

You’ll be okay, friend <3

Growing pains:

Tis the aftermath of the incident | Next >

I fgot glove generation and weather ranged weapon projectile 😂 so I can shoot thunderbolt bolts (maybe) and create sick gloves

Click on it twice. These are your two super powers.

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

Part: One

What if.. Mikey’s portal drags home a cold dead corpse.

I would like to preface this by saying I completely blame @goodlucktai for their amazing Incredible story, raised on little light for putting this idea into my head. Guys go check it out the fic, it’s amazing it makes me so so sad but there is also so many good things in it 😭. Personally speaking I don’t think there’s anything I can write that will ever come close to what Tai can do, but as a famous internet post once said, write your shitty pots. So here we goes ppl

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

But I promise, there is still hope even in this.

_

“Casey! When I get to the other side you close that portal!”

Everything stills. The world falls static.

“What..?” A foreign voice enters the fray. Ah. Cj thinks distantly. It’s mine.

A series of thoughts shoots through his mind. Faster than the battle drones Uncle Tello used to make, faster than the joy rides Uncle Mi used to give.

He sees empty eyes, forced smiles. Screaming voices stained with the weight only grief, hunger, thirst and stress can give.

He thinks of Michelangelo in the brief moments he has met the turtle, so bright and so energetic. And then he remembers his Uncle Mi twisted into something quiet, slow and outwardly peaceful.

He remembers Monty, so stoic and so very angry. Yet so very indulgent when it counts. Out in a blaze of guns and glory. Standard-issue shoulder pauldron shoved into shaking hands. You will do great things Princey. He remembers Monty’s mother. Whose name he never got, forever in a daze, staring at walls of nothing. A hallowed husk like so many of the living ghosts that wandered their dusty halls. He remembers Miwa. So tiny, so fragile. So young. Too young. No amount of their anything can ever replace or beat modern medicine.

His Uncle Tello, bitter, grumpy; burnt out and constantly overstimulated from the dirt covered and squishy pink hell they’ve found themselves in. But sometimes on better days he cocks his head to the side, with a face that almost smiles at Cj and says, “Come Jones Junior; I appear to have some scraps we need to dispose off.” Which is code for we’re going to give your Pa an aneurysm and make things go boom.

He remembers his family. Tired, thirsty, hungry, eyes on them constantly. Countless sleepless nights in hushed voices arguing, strategising, weeping. They thought he didn’t hear. But children always have the biggest ears and the longest standing shelter on earth is only so large.

First and foremost. Cj knows. He knows with heart wrenching certainty. If there was any way to make peace with the present Hamatos it would all be over now. They’ll hate him. They will. They will never forgive him for this.

Maybe if this was his Mom, his Auntie April, his Da-Uncle Mi, his Uncle Tello, his Grandpa Drax. Whatever else Master Raphael and Master splinter might have been to him. They might just forgive him but these people are not them. They have not been softened with a lifetime of knowing Cj. He doesn’t have that baby of the family privilege. He doesn’t have any privilege at all. It’s only been a day. Less than that technically.

Even just the thought of being hated by his family. Any version of them, curdles something in his core. Every fiber in his being lashes out and screams at the younger version of his sensei. (Oh but it was Leonardo wasn’t it? Oh, what has he done?) In ways he hasn’t done since he was 8 years old, because poor 8 year old Casey hadn’t quite figured out how to breathe through the hunger pains. I’m a healer. I’m supposed to stop these things. Please, I already let go before you can’t make me do this again-

“Leo no! There has to be another way!”

But this Leonardo says;

“We’ve tried everything Case, he’s too strong”

And deep down Cj knows that too. Much like the lies his family told him. “We can win” He knows otherwise too. Just like if he does this, he knows he’ll be left with nothing too.

But his family will still be here, surrounded by food, clean water, light, and endless amount of comics or magazines they could possibly want. They will be free.

They will never know gnawing hunger or sapping thirst, nor will they know the ever present hum of runhidenotsafe. They will never know the unique kind of suffering that comes from grasping for strength to just open your eyes and breathe in a world that has already long given up on itself.

Cj has seen the future. He has lived and breathed and sometimes, even thrived in an era where the krang came. Where the sky was a bloody brown instead of this clear dark blue and people were driven to insanity and killed from the common cold. Where the sour smell of rot piled everywhere. No matter how much or how hard you scrubbed.

He remembers his Sensei, his Pa, wise, comforting, always ready with a witty comeback or a brilliant plan. He remembers his Commander O’Neil, his Auntie April, rousing, quick and endlessly enduring, the steady voice of reason where even Sensei’s wit dulled. But they were tired, so very tired. The burden of leadership and grief and all the aches and pains of hunger and thirst that can never be quenched, already a fully dressed tomb just waiting for them to hang up their coats and admit futility to the unsurmountable cold.

He remembers how much his family loved him. How hard they tried to scrape together any piece of warmth for him. Tired Golden-Orange heaves himself into the air, to scoop Cj into his arms. Busy Blue who takes any meagre time he has to himself and spends it with Cj. Prickly Purple finds away to colour all his armour a shade of teal, even his siblings are still decked in occasional shades of grey. Overstretched Green always ready to pull her brothers back and scold; too guilty, too smothering, too harsh. Stop. You’re hurting the kid.

If Cj doesn’t close this portal, if he keeps this open, if he disobeys-the Krang will just come back through. And they will plunge the earth into a bloody, poisoned hell.

And he knows that if not Leonardo, then someone else in their stupid, selfless, self-sacrificial family will take up the mantle of resistance, unable to stand idly by at people’s suffering. Because these people are good, so very good. The Hamatos will fight, they will try. And they will lose.

The force of their ire will break him. The thought alone makes him sob, hiccuping in a way he hasn’t done, not since he was found shrieking over a cold Uncle Tello and had to be wrenched away, kicking and screaming. But still holding on. Even to the very last second and beyond. Because he is Cassandra Jones Junjor and a Hamato in every way that matters and he could never leave family behind. At least back then he couldn’t feel mom die

But the apocalypse.. that long, slow, painful march to inevitable death, will break him too. It wasn’t always bad, they had fun, karaoke nights, hilarious attempts to make birthday cakes for kids like him. But fuck.. that doesn’t change the fact that they still lost. That they will all still loose. Cj doesn’t know if he can willingly doom them all again because that’s what he’s going to do isn’t it? They were all so tired, so hungry, so thirsty. How can he let them go through that again?

He remembers how much happier, and how much lighter they always looked in those old scarce photos.

Selfishly, Cj doesn’t know if he can survive through another 20 something years or however long they make it this time, through that hell again. Forced to slowly watch again, as the Krang chip away at his family. Chip away at the people he called his friends till everything, bright, lively and kind was carved out;Uncle Hiro I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry-

They will never love you again. A voice thunders, like the death roll of their final march just this morning where Cj was still breathing in corrupted air under rusty skies. If only he died there with them. Anything is better than having to do this.

I know. Cj shakes, trembling fingers wrap around the key. Casey can see the division between young and new, old and worn and knows he cannot let it blur and become one.

“Casey! Urgh-please!”

Anything. I will give anything, Casey weeps. Anything as long as they live. Casey squeezes his eyes shut.

And just like with Uncle Tello,

Casey finally lets go.

The portal to the prison dimension slams shut with a glorious boom.

Leo, I love you. I’m sorry.

I wish I got more time to know you.

.

.

.

They scream at him. It’s Muffled, like the sensation of sound in the aftermath of a live grenade. They hurl all manner of abuse and venom at his face. He thinks he might be crying. Or maybe he’s not. His head feels tangled like the heaps of crusty old wires, Uncle Tello will never get the chance to unravel.

The shattered body of their Leonardo lies between them, like territory lines drawn between begrudging survivor groups. Cradled by a shaking soft shell. The blurry shapes of familiar voices once desperately calm and patient now roar,cutting and rightfully angry. It falls on his ears. He tries to grasp it, he does. He’s ruined everything, the least Cj can do now is listen.

But exhaustion gnaws at his very bones. Head pounding.

Nothing can explain this.

Nothing will justify this.

Severe head trauma, and shattered, collapsed carapace. Possible bruised and punctured lungs via pieces of loose carapace as the overall structure caved in, resulting in internal bleeding in the lungs and eventual asphyxiation. Patient chocked on his own blood. The field medic immediately drones internally, years of experience and training unable to be shut off (or rather, trained to never shut off) as listless eyes drift down to meet the unmoving slider.

It seems the one-sided eye contact is what finally breaks the softshell’s stupor. “Don’t you fucking dare.” The teen snarls, teeth flashing in all the ways he used to bare it at unwelcome visitors. But never at Casey. Never for long.

Wake up Jones. This is not your Uncle.

The rest of the group falls silent, shocked to see their previously silent family member speaking.

“You don’t get to look at him.” Achingly gentle, the purple branded softshell sets Leonardo onto the tiled floor.

Donatello stands. “You.” He hisses, pointing at Cj.

“You did this.”

Somewhere, somehow Cj manages to gather enough of himself to incline his head slightly in agreement. It’s the least he can do for them.

“Leave.” Donatello orders.

And like the good soldier he is, Cj does. Disappearing into the tunnels.

No one stops him.

<Part 1 | Next>

OHHHMIIGOOSSHHHH EEEEEEEEEEKKKK SHES SO CUUTTEEEEEEEE but also NOOOOOO PENNI POOR BBY 😭 Raph must have felt so horrible

PENI REF SHEET!

^ before the invasion/when she met the Hamatos

^ After the invasion/once she joins the Hamatos

She wears a battleshell type device around her shoulder because of an injury she received during the recovery arc. Long story short: Raph was left alone and she was the one to check in on him…

Thanks to @themulitipurposechannel’s suggestion, Peni is a painted Terrapin!

Sneak peak 2-!

Behold the scenes that kept playing in my brain that made want to do this entire thing in the first place 😂 it’s not done obvi but these are the main bits lol

I’m really proud of myself it turned out way better than I thought haha.

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for some context have this:

My mind has been blowwnnn

So earlier in art class today, someone drew a characters hands in their pockets and mentioned that hands are really like the ultimate end boss of art, and most of us wholeheartedly agreed. So then, our teacher went ahead and free handed like a handful of hands on the board, earning a woah from a couple of students. So the one from earlier mentioned how it barely took the teacher ten seconds to do what I can’t do in three hours. And you know what he responded?

“It didn’t take me ten seconds, it took me forty years.”

And you know, that stuck with me somehow. Because yeah. Drawing a hand didn’t take him fourth years. But learning and practicing to draw a hand in ten seconds did. And I think there’s something to learn there but it’s so warm and my brain is fried so I can’t formulate the actual morale of the lesson.

Siblings 😂✨

ROTTMNT: Charades 3

*All the turtles are chilling at April's place*

Leo: *Rushes out of the kitchen, closing the door in a panic*

Mikey: What's wrong, Leo?

Leo: *Ponders before pulling out the charades movements to say ''I broke the microwave''*

Mikey: You did WHAT?!

Raph: *Charades back angerly ''Fix it!''*

Leo: *Charades back ''I can't!''*

April: *Stands up with a cutting glare* You know I'm good at charades, too, right..?

Let him go-

It’s the incident oop-

Life’s been kidna wack-

So have these 3 sleepy kids I drew a while back 👍

Soo Truce ? Haha.. Please ?

.

I’m sorry dude. I know it hasn’t been too long but Cj is getting to a point where he’s losing his temper ( I can’t hold back the classic Jones rage any longer without making him Ooc 🥲,that and unfortunately at this particular point of the this au Cj is way to freshly traumatised, full of rage (and conditioned by the apocalypse to not result to extreme measures esp in a combat setting) to regulate himself so eh.. things can get dark pretty quickly if this keeps going and I don’t wanna go there, and tbh I’m just.. really really tired. This is rlly fun and thank you for reachin out to me but welp.. I just don’t have enough of spoons to juggle this and everything else. So uh yeh..I’m Sorry bud 😅 I can squeeze out at least one more part if you need me too but man I am reaching my limit😂😅

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Heather Hamato challenges Healer CJ to a mystic battle! Be warned, Heather's got top-notch ghost mystic powers and she's a gothic, autistic, bad girl,badass half tiger-half human teen and is a basic mini version of Dr.Delicate touch and mad scientist Tello. Her mystic powers make able to do anything a ghost can including banshee like screams, floating, communicate with the dead, some psychic stuff with her mind and turn in a ghost herself

(For more info on Heather and her twin brother Makoto visit my blog and search for the tags #Heather, #rottmnt next gen, #Makoto and #Rising to the challenge au!)

It’s not cheating XD

Mystic Tech in a Mystic battle haha.