ledgendweaver

[ledgendweaver]

Process of my baby Fulgur Anjanath!

[ledgendweaver]

Me and my little sibling made little pokemon out of polymer clay. I made Rowlet, one of my favorite little guys.

He came out cute, and I had fun!

Uncooked Rowlet

[ledgendweaver]

A newly hatched baby Fulgur Anjanath

Process

[ledgendweaver]

Just wanted to post the art. From @whatinywhatiny ask

From this @tmntaucompetition 2025 post

[ledgendweaver]

"I brought a Cheesesicle for you!…"

"..."

Mikey must be looking at them and thinking he should have brought pizza.

No problem.

It's tragic that the family is torn apart like pizza.

@tmntaucompetition 2025

← Shatter →

Mikey POV

The car shook slightly as it rose along the Ferris wheel. Michelangelo was vibing so well right now, totally not gripping the window lip tight enough that he would be worried if this whole thing wasn't magical mumbo jumbo. And it wasn't the ferris wheel, okay. In the grand scheme of Michelangelo's Menagerie of Malaphors, a ferris wheel didn't even register on the scale. And it wasn't his first time anyway. His dimension might not have "Hidden Cities", or "Mutant Towns", or "a Queen of England", but there were some advantages to living in a world that was a lot quieter and emptier because of a behind the scenes alien invasion that's been going for thousands of years.

Once, many years ago he and his brothers had broken into an empty, dark carnival in the middle of the night. Donnie has figured out how to get the rides running and they had made a night of it. Leo had been super tense about the noise and lights getting them caught, but ---- pointing out the limited time Space Heroes themed coaster had been enough to win him over. In the back of the mind he could remember him and his other brother teaming up to swing their car back and forth violently, while Donnie shrieked, and Leo's composure broke down into a giggly fit until they all collapsed into a heaving laughing pile at the bottom of the car.

The memory stained the current moment like a murder scene

His thumb rubbed the wood of the stick idly, eyes blurred and unfocused. Like maybe if he zoned out hard enough, he would dissolve into the static lurking in the back of his skull. He did his best to ignore the sneaky concerned and curious glances of the smaller, armored, different dimensional version of himself sitting next to him, and the dark presence staining the corner of the car, which was a whole nother can of worms, and a potential breakdown just waiting to happen.

Michelangelo did feel a bit bad. A, for bringing his current headspace in and really killing the mood. B, the maybe sorta kinda panic attack he had at the sight of the kids brooding buddy in the corner. And C, abandoning his brothers the first chance he got.

When Donnie had run off, Leo caught between going after him, and facing their younger alternate selves, (There was no way ---- had ever been that small...right?) he had taken his chance to slip into the growing crowd to get away. If he was lucky it would be a while before he noticed he was gone, and the funky nature of this place would make it harder for Leo to hunt him down with his spiritual wumbo.

(He used to have dreams, fantasies he would wrap himself in, that one day Leo would come home and his bros would all be together again. And one day, Mikey would wake up, and the constantly weeping wound in his chest would suddenly be gone, and everything would be finally be fine again.)

The family reunion had been a real bummer so far.

He idly chewed on the slowly softening chunk of cheese. It was nice, nostalgic, unfortunately reminiscent of that one time he ate a whole frozen stick of butter from his current couch crasher's freezer. Overall, an 8 out of ten.

He hadn't been lying when he had said he was hungry earlier. His stomach had been rumbling for a bit now. He would love to chow down on some Zacherie's or Wonton Palace right about now.

Or Murakami's, a quiet, traitorour part of him whispered before being shoved down violently. Michelangelo wasn't like his brothers. He had let go. He had moved on.

Cut and Replace.

"Hey, little dude", he said, turning to the kid "I heard someone mention a kitchen around here. How about we pop in for some grub, my treat."

He hoped the kid said yes. He was still a bit rattled to want to go it alone. And it would help make up for the whole 'sorry-about-freezing-up-and-almost-attacking-your-friend-but-hey-at-least-it-was-me-and-not-one-of-my-brothers-because-dude-that-would-have-been-rough' thing.

‐-----------------------

Reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated.

Just two more posts to go!

Thanks for the ask!

[ledgendweaver]

Recent doodles and sketches I've done on my tablet!

[ledgendweaver]

The final print!

[ledgendweaver]

Here's the finalized sketch of what I decided to go with

[ledgendweaver]

Sketches for the final project in my class

[ledgendweaver]

Hola el /ella es Acumulador@. Y, como su nombre indica, es una acumulad@r compulsiv@. Vino a las Tortugas Ninja para recolectar objetos para su colección ilimitada. Así que, como estrategia para recolectar más, decidió dar algo a cambio. Su mercancía de este año son galletas de la fortuna. Cada galleta de Acumulador@ contiene un mensaje que puede ser positivo, negativo o neutral. Estos mensajes pueden ser un chiste, un poema, una sola palabra, un acertijo, etc. Nunca es muy claro, por eso la mayoría de la gente se confunde al leer estas galletas. Pero tengan por seguro que digan lo que digan, ya sea una predicción del futuro o sabiduría del presente, siempre es cierto. Además, el mensaje de la galleta de la fortuna puede ser para quien la abrió o para todo el grupo.

🔵 Leo got it.

Thanks for the ask!

@tmntaucompetition only two more posts to go.

[ledgendweaver]

Wanted to just post the art of this post from the @tmntaucompetition

features my Onryo Donnie and Leo, and @renae-the-turtle's Raphael

[ledgendweaver]

with no warning, Raph runs up to your group to try and smack Donatello on the head!!! Leo has already given up on trying to stop him, despite that they got here only yesterday lol

.......

......sure hope this doesn't trigger any trauma.....

@tmntaucompetition 2025

← Split →

Donnie POV

Tensions were still running high, no surprise there. They were just as quiet as before as they looked around, just now they were also standing further apart and trying not to look at each other.

Donatello ran his finger down the subtle grooves in the metal of his bo, forcibly unclenching his jaw again. They had been given a wide berth by their counterparts. Probably because the areas they were moving through were much less crowded, but also because they could probably sense the tension coming off the trio.

Logically, he knew that they should talk to try to sort things out. But evidence so far showed that talking just actually made things worse.

Though maybe the tension and distance was only bothering him. Leo's face was a mask of calm determination, holding himself firm and still and Donatello isn't able to read him at all. Mikey just looked ...bored.

Donatello kept having to check on them. Making sure the Leo hadn't quietly marched on without them, or that Mikey hadn't wandered off. And frankly, it was making him more anxious that he had been in the crowds earlier. At least then they had felt like some sort of a team, like Donatello could rely on them. On someone.

Now Donatello was alone again.

His hands tightened on his bo, and his jaw clenched. He tries to push it down into the buried ball deep inside him that has been festering this entire time.

He lost focus for a moment.

The sound of feeding slapping against stone. Moving fast. Something whistling through the air at his head.

Boots nearly slipping on wet concrete. The smell of water, mold, and blood staining the back of his throat. Rain blurred his vision behind the visor. Echoey sounds of his own gasps drowning out all else. Head spun, ribs ached. Leg pulsed in agony, muscles twitching around the knife still jabbed into it. Weak point in the joints. Dumb, stupid, an ambush. Move, try not to slip on the bodies scattered on the ground. The crack of his bo against a skull, sending vibrations through him, aches and pains echoing in response. One half of the broken wooden (stupid stupid stupid stupid) bo slid through numb fingers. Faint rumble beneath his feet, headlights flash by the alley, bright light refracting and bouncing off rain, off puddles stained with growing rivulets of red. A shadow from behind. Broken shard of wood twists in his hand. Someone down had gotten up. Heel, twist. Mind, desperate, blank. The whites of widening eyes and grit teeth, a bat swinging down at his head. He jabs upwards, broken bo piece clenched tight, end jagged. Sharp.

Soft. Slides. 'shktpblt'. Red.

Gone.

Donatello's heart pounds and he is already moving. A quick twitch of his wrist and his bo ratchets to life, segmenting, metal shifting, edges sharpening, and sparking to life. By the time the electrical buzz sinks into his senses, he's already swung, turning instantly with a sweep of his leg and shift of an ankle, hand sliding down the length of the bo with a familiarity etched in stone.

Leo, somehow, is faster.

There's an ear-bleeding shriek of metal on metal, the force of the blow slamming into an unexpected obstacle ricocheting painfully back through his arms as Leonardo's katana intercepts in a streak of silver. The shriek sharpens, discordant tones screaming, sparks flashing as the point of impact shifts as Leo slides to a stop from his sudden dash to intercept, bodily blocking Donatello from his target, his attacker.

Some part of Donnie knows he should stand down as he is met with Leonardo's whited out, steely gaze, unflinching as electricity crackles near his face. But the adrenaline and lingering grip of mind-numbing panic drowns it out. And that rolled-up ball of anger and hurt explodes. He snarls, pushing back against Leonardo, trying to leverage his size against him.

Leonardo is a wall, unmoving and unfaltering. He shifts his katana, twisting Donatello's grip on his bo, using the friction of their locked grip to force his bo down. Donatello is unfocused, not thinking, and the way his grip shifted uncoordinatedly would have had Master Splinter drilling him in katas for weeks. He manages to keep his grip, but is unable to stop Leonardo from planting the tip of his bo into the ground, the flat of his blade trapping it there. Without their weapons between them, Leonardo shifts forward, shoulder ramming into his, head lifting as his lips peel back into a snarl.

"Donatello, enough!"

Donatello struggles, pushing back against him. A flicker of movement, and his eyes flicker upwards, getting a glimpse of his target for the first time.

He froze.

Green.

Green eyes.

Raphael's eyes.

There was a ringing through his head as head as his bo dropped from numb fingers. In his peripheral, he saw Leo's face shift to something more concerned, mouth opening and closing, words lost in the haze.

A face he hadn't seen outside of faded photos in years looked up at him. The hit of fear faded, and an achingly familiar mask of anger and irritation fell into place. Face shifting into a scowl that Donatello had seen a million times before.

he-

he couldn't-

and he'd-

he'd almost-

It wasn't his Raphael. Raphael had been 20, and had never worn, never had the chance to wear, clothes like that at 15. But still, but still- He saw those eyes and...

Donnies leg is broken, his plastron cracked, and he is left in a broken heap in the ground as rubble falls around him. His vision is darkening, despite his every attempt to claw back into consciousness as a roar from the maddened shadowy titan that was the Shredder crashes over him, drowning out the sound of his breaths, his heart, his thoughts. A blurry smear of grey races towards him, as an entire cliffside is dislodged in the great beasts thrashing.

A streak of green and red and Donnie is already relaxing before he is scooped up into strong arms, hiss of pain lost in the rush as Raph leaps, doing his best to cover him as they skid across the ground, dust and bits of rock falling around them. His vision swims and begins to smear away into black and he can barely feel it as Raph drags him behind the relative safety and cover of an outcrop of rocks and trees. Raphaels shadow curls over him, and he can distantly feel him checking him over for any life threatening issue, any sounds or words lost in the shriek of the Shredder as it tore itself and the land around it apart. He is slipping when Raph turns and pulls away, his hand barely lifting, pleas caught in his throat. Raph noticed anyway, turning back. The flash of his teeth in a grin, the burning green of his eyes, and the smear of red of his bandana were the last things to go in Donnies fading visions, his words following him as he spiraled down. "Me and Leo got this, brainiac. Rest up, it'll be over before you wake up."

He never even got the chance to say goodbye.

Donatello is moving again, breaking away from Leo's grip on his shoulder. Pushing through the gathered crowd, he runs. He can hear Leo's shout, footsteps following him. Instinctively, he reaches to his hip back, grabbing two of the marble sized balls inside, throwing them behind them, hearing them burst with a pop, the acrid smell of the smoke tickling his throat. He veers sharply to the left, ducking into an alley as he continues to sprint.

Over the last couple of years he has gotten very good at disappearing.

When he comes fully back to himself, he is curled up in the boarded doorway of a back door in a secluded alley, far away from where he had left his brothers. The only sound is the harsh wheezes from his broken chest, gasps for air and control. He curls up tighter, arms wrapping tighter around his knees, bowing his head into the curl of his body.

His screams are muffled and unheard.

He is alone again.

--------------------------------------

oof. well.

none of these guys are doing well and have been going through it. none of them are innocent for how things are.

Thanks for the ask!

[ledgendweaver]

"Consume" monoprint

[ledgendweaver]

"The Husk and The Shadow" monoprint

@tmntaucompetition

[ledgendweaver]

This monoprint got more and more political the longer I worked on it, lol

[ledgendweaver]

"Omen" monoprint

@tmntaucompetition

[ledgendweaver]

So the next project is to make four monoprints. Onryo is my current muse, so they'll probably revolve around it