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merakiui · 7 months

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Mera Mera Mera! Thoughts on twst boys if you tell them "no more sex" after an argument. Pretty please! 🥺🙏 💙 (You characterize them so well, I'm certain you can bless us with knowledge)

>:D I may have a few thoughts on the reactions!!! I shall bless you with said thoughts (i.e. twst cast being petty and silly).

Riddle - he's perfectly silent when he tears out the page in his life planner titled "dick appointments" and rips it in half in front of you. "Would you look at that? It appears my schedule's become open." He proceeds to fill the time slots with academics and club activities. Your "no more sex" rule goes both ways, but if you find yourself unable to bear it he might consider penciling you into his schedule. ...if it ever frees up, that is. :)

Trey - "Yeaaah, I had that coming," he admits with a sheepish chuckle. Trey very rarely argues with you. Ever. So maybe it was one-sided, but he still goes along with it to keep you happy and to end the argument as quickly as possible. He'll smooth things over by baking you your favorite sweet. He can be patient and wait if you're still stubbornly insisting on no more sex, but that doesn't mean he won't tease you often.

Cater - "Cowabummer." Yes, that's all he says. Yes, he gives you the sad thumbs-down and everything. Cater cannot be /srs for this one because if he's /srs you'll see the /srs sides of him that he'd rather hide behind a /j personality. (He later makes it up to you by apologizing and taking you into town to your favorite places. <3 you end up fucking in the changing stall in one of the clothing stores hehe.)

Ace - he rolls his eyes and laughs. "I never even wanted to fuck you anyways. You're, like, super mid." (He's lying. Please don't ban him from having sex with you. </3 This is how he's apologizing later.

Deuce - he's genuinely devastated. Nooo, what do you mean "no more sex"? D: that's not even the worst of it, though. Deuce is just sad that the both of you argued and that he said some things he's not very proud of. He was really mean and so were you. What were you even arguing about in the first place? Deuce's heart aches knowing you're so upset at him, so he does everything he can to make it up to you. It's fine if you don't want sex anymore; he just wants you to be happy.

Leona - he highly doubts you're serious. "Sure, okay. We'll see about that one," he tells you with a lazy half-smirk. "Good luck with that, herbivore." (he's so hot when you wake up next to him in the mornings and he has that rough morning voice...... you end up fucking the following day, too weak to his charms to keep up with your no sex promise. Leona teases you for that.)

Ruggie - "I'll live," he says with a shrug. Sure, it sucks that you no longer want to fuck and it also sucks that the two of you even argued in the first place, but he'll live. You and Ruggie are distant for all of one day before coming back together to sincerely apologize. He's a little awkward with his apology, but it does indeed come from the heart. Perhaps there's some makeup sex that follows...

Jack - another one who is more upset over the actual argument than your admission of no more sex. Jack feels so bad. :( his ears are flattened on his head and his tail is drooped; he's just so sad that he argued with you and made you angry. He was out of line and shouldn't have let his emotions get the best of him. If no more sex is what you truly want, he'll abide by that.

Azul - "Angelfish, I understand you're upset, but do you truly mean that?" You do, and you storm out of his VIP room and ghost him for the rest of the day. Azul goes through the five stages of grief within the span of a few hours. T_T he's a wreck, not only because you said no more sex but because you argued and you're angry with him and you probably hate him now and what if you break up and you never want to see him again and and and and and !!!!!!!! Sad tako hours.

Jade - he smiles patiently. "If you say so." (his compliance is too obedient; don't let him fool you. He's going to spike your drink with an aphrodisiac and then when you come to him begging for release he'll deny you in the same way you denied him.)

Floyd - "Shrimpy, c'mon, ya can't be serious." You turn away from him with a huff, arms folded over your chest. "S'not funny, Shrimpy..." He pouts at you, brows knitted in annoyance. You look him dead in the eyes and snap back with, "Good. Cuz I'm not joking, Floyd." (Floyd's in a foul mood for the rest of the day; no one dares go near him. His aura is too threatening...)

Kalim - if it's your first argument with him, he's genuinely compelled to throw a party celebrating it LOL. Kalim means well with it, too, which makes it arguably worse. ^^;;; but he is indeed very sad that things got to this point and that you were so angry with him that you even said no more sex! He sulks sadly. :( will a parade make you feel better? Or do you want more renovations done to Ramshackle? Do you want gemstones? Just tell him how he can make it up to you and he'll do it! He's so very sorry! >_<

Jamil - he rolls his eyes, shooting you an unamused look. "Very mature of you, (Name)." Jamil isn't going to entertain the argument anymore. If you want to talk things over, you can do that after you and he have cooled off. Although if he's truly intent on getting your forgiveness and nullifying your no sex rule right away, a little hypnosis might do the trick...

Vil - he gives you a critical look. "What does sex have anything to do with this?" If you're going to argue with Vil, argue about the subject matter and don't bring unrelated topics into it! >:( arguments with Vil always make you feel so bad because essentially he tells you to do better and think about your conduct. Of course he also reflects on how he acted and what even led up to the argument in the first place. Even his apology, though heartfelt and authentic, is so perfect.

Rook - "Mon amour, lovely trickster whom I adore most, oh, how you wound me!" He's so dramatic about it, but then he also wholeheartedly means it when he says and acts like that. "Shall we share a kiss of forgiveness and allow water to flow freely under the bridge once more?" He is truly sorry, but then he's sneaky when he's slipping his tongue into your mouth as if he's trying to drag your apology out of your throat and taste it in his mouth.

Epel - "Consarn it!" He's huffy, glaring at you with his cheeks puffed out. "If yer gonna throw a hissy fit and say no more in-out, in-out, then don't come crawlin' to me when yer feelin' it!" Of course he then storms off and is promptly scolded by Vil for such atrocious behavior. Epel realizes he was wrong for getting so worked up and he'll later apologize to you. You apologize as well, but for the rest of the week there will be no more sex. Epel thinks that's fair. He sort of deserved that one. T_T

Idia - "Wutever. I don't need 3D to be happy." He rolls his eyes and the argument ends there. (Idia later spends an entire week locked away in his room building a (Name) sex doll to make up for the lack of your touch.)

Malleus - poor Hornton... :( he sulks in the darkness of his room and no one knows the reason for why he's so upset. Sebek is distraught; whoever dared to put waka-sama in this sad mood will pay!!!!!! Telling Malleus no more sex makes him think you don't want him anymore and that you essentially are breaking up (which is not the case). Diasomnia feels the gloomy atmosphere for days to come. It's Lilia who finally manages to convince Malleus to come out of his room and go to you for a chat to resolve things.

Lilia - "Oh dear. That's rather unfortunate." Even though he says this, he doesn't seem very affected or surprised or even remotely upset. But then Lilia's been through countless arguments, some far more severe than the one he just had with you, so he knows how to navigate these sorts of things. He's very mature about it and respects your no more sex rule. In fact, he's going to keep track of how many days you go with no sex before you inevitably forgo this rule for sloppy, heartfelt makeup sex with him, which he'll gladly indulge in.

Silver - it's probably impossible to argue with Silver. He's just so sweet. How could you ever get into any sort of argument with him? But if you did find yourself at a disagreement, he'd do whatever he could to resolve it and make you feel better. If no more sex is what makes you happy, then there will be no more sex.

Sebek - "SO BE IT, HUMAN. I DO NOT REQUIRE YOUR TOUCH OR INTIMACY TO SURVIVE, NOR DO I WANT IT." He's so LOUD. The entire hall ends up learning more than they'd ever want to about your and Sebek's argument. ;;;; he rants about you and your audacity to Silver (who's half-asleep), and so it's obvious he's affected. Sebek refuses to apologize because he's stubborn, but he realizes he misses you quite a lot. :( no one point that out, though, or else he'll yell at them that that's not true whatsoever!!!!

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw

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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Eighteen of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is now up! The Hamato Family finally goes back home. And now everything is okay and back to normal... right? Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

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The world wasn’t spinning anymore.

Damn, did that mean he was dead? Cowabummer.

As he looked around, however, Leo slowly realized (for the second time over a very short period) that, no, he was not dead. Or, at least, he didn’t think he was dead-- despite the fact that he was absolutely surrounded by a warm, comforting light, enveloping him and holding him close.

He could hear the roars of the crowd in the distance. And though he was no longer flailing through the air, his head was still reeling, having not quite realized that they weren’t falling anymore. And as he slowly gathered his bearings, he realized he could see his siblings, all gathered together close; held behind the protective fold of a bright red light, shielded from the debris and dust that had been sent flying through the ring.

Vaguely, he came to the conclusion that the Ikuchi had fallen.

And he hadn’t.

It wasn’t until the red light faded and was replaced by his eldest brother’s tight embrace that he came back to reality properly, stumbling a bit, his eyes wide and his brain still buzzing a little; held up only by his brother’s grip rather than his own strength.

“... Did you catch me?” He finally managed to get his tongue to move.

“Never do that again,” Raph hissed in reply, and about half a second later, Mikey, April, and even Donnie had joined them, all stumbling into him and clinging to him all at once.

“What is wrong with you!? You idiot!” April cried, burying her face into his shoulder.

“Why did you do that?!” Mikey wailed through sobs. “I told you guys! I told you not to protect me! Why would you do that!? D-don’t-- don’t do that! Don’t e-ever do that again! Why don’t any of you-- e-ever listen to me? I would have-- I--! Leo!”

“Sorry!” Leo found it in himself to laugh, though even he could admit that he sounded just a little bit deranged. Eugh boy, were things still spinning? “It’s fine!... I knew Raph would save me.”

“No you didn’t!” Raph snapped. “Raph didn’t even know Raph was gonna save ya!”

“How did you do that?” April gaped.

“I don’t know!” Raph laughed, his voice stumbling slightly with the threat of oncoming tears. “I just knew that if I didn’t save him, I’d never hear the end of it…!”

“I told you all not to,” Mikey wept, clinging to him. “I told you…”

“Aw, I knew you had magic powers,” Leo slurred. Okay, maybe he was still a little out of it. “You just needed… the right motivation…! All part of the plan…”

“Liar,” Raph hissed, tightening his hold on him, bundling his brother up close to his chest and burying his face against his shoulder. “If you ever pull some bullshit like that ever again, I swear to god, I’m gonna murder you--”

His next words were cut off by yet another shuddering crash of impact, nearly tossing the gang from their feet. And Leo was still not exactly feeling steady, per se, but turning to face the glowering form of an angry spider did wonders for sobering a person up.

“Well then,” Big Mama hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits as she glared down at them. “Wasn’t that an impressive performance.”

“I told you we’d give you a big hurrah. Was that cool or what?” Leo laughed, pulling away from Raph so that he could stand on his own-- stumbling a bit, but then finding his balance again, summoning up whatever he had left in his body to face her alongside his siblings. He could practically see Big Mama grit her jaw.

“Isn’t that just… splendifirous,” she hissed. “Well! Big Mama never breaks a deal! She does, however, alt--”

“Okay, hang on. Hold that thought. Sorry. Just. One second,” Leo said quickly, moving to shove his hand into his jean pockets, digging around for a moment as he approached the other.

“Oh! Okay. Here. Here you go,” he hummed, pulling a tiny black coin, etched with sigils that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, from his pocket, where it had lived ever since it was retrieved from Big Mama’s own vault by Mayhem. He pressed it firmly into her insectile palm. “This is for you.”

Big Mama paused.

She stared.

She bristled.

Every hair on her body stood on end as she snarled, puffing up twice the size that she had been a second ago. She bared her fangs, digging her claws into the ground as she loomed over the group, a furious hiss escaping her as she leaned in close to Leo. Beyond a slightly dizzy rock on one foot, he stood his ground, keeping his gaze even and trained on her.

“Go collect your father and get out of my Nexus,” she spat, turning sharply away.

Inwardly, Leo let out a massive breath of relief, his entire body sagging ever-so-slightly. He nearly fell over as he turned on his heel to try to re-join his slack-jawed siblings.

“You heard the spider lady--” he said, wobbling dangerously. Luckily, Raph and Donnie were quick to react, each grabbing an arm on either side to keep him upright. Oh thank god. He was still thinking he might just throw up. Or pass out. Maybe both.

“What the hell was that!?” Raph hissed, his eyes wide and his voice hushed. “Leo! What did you give her!?”

“Honestly,” Leo said, chuckling the tiniest bit beneath his breath. “I have no fucking clue.”

---

The rest of the day was a blur.

Mikey had never seen their father cry so much, nor heard him scream so loud, informing Leo at least eleven times that he was grounded for the rest of his life for scaring his family like that. And though he didn’t necessarily disagree, Mikey felt guilty the entire time. He kept wondering if anyone was going to yell at him for needing to be saved in the first place, but no one did.

They collected their dad. They collected Mayhem. They collected all their things.

They walked out of the Battle Nexus, back out the same way they had entered four days earlier. Mikey dimly noted the alleyway where they had huddled together and plotted just days ago. People repeatedly stopped and begged for their father’s autograph, seeming unsurprised to see him out and about, and he politely declined each and every request.

Their father clearly knew his way around the Hidden City. He knew the way home, too, and soon, they were back up on the surface-- in New York City.

They were in New York City again. And it looked the same.

From there, they called 911.

Mikey barely remembered the ambulance ride, though he remembered thinking, wow, I’ve never been in an ambulance before. He wanted to tell someone that he was okay, he wasn’t hurt, that it was their dad and Leo that they had to worry about, but he couldn’t quite get his tongue to work. Every time he tried to open his mouth to talk, he’d just start crying again. Every time someone asked him a question, tried to ask what happened, if he was okay, where it hurt, he’d try to reply and instead tears would just bubble up again and spill over, painting streaks down his face over and over again until his head hurt.

Maybe that was a blessing, because he had no idea what he would have said. Their dad, however, did. Mikey was silently shocked by how easily he lied. By how effortlessly he weaved together a tapestry of tales to explain their absence-- wearily and emotionally describing the crazed fan who had kidnapped him and held him hostage in their apartment. He tearfully explained how his children had been contacted by the culprit and foolishly attempted to take matters into their own hands after being warned not to contact the police, only to be captured themselves until they were able to make their escape.

It sounded dramatic. It sounded implausible, if Mikey was being honest, like the plot of a soap opera. But the way his Dad said it, it sounded… so believable.

And everyone seemed to eat it up without question in a way that made Mikey squint, but in a way that he didn’t question, either.

They got to the hospital. They patched up all of Dad’s injuries-- the cracked ribs, the bruises, the cuts and scrapes, the bloody knuckles and torn muscles and swollen joints. Mikey could tell he was anxious, but he somehow didn’t panic even half as much as he did going in for a physical. He kept a brave face throughout, recounting the story as many times as he needed to, firmly declining any opioids, and keeping his focus squarely on Mikey and his siblings the entire time, even as doctors actively treated his wounds.

After some fluids and a long nap, Leo bounced right back, seemingly no worse for the wear. They wrapped Raph’s hands. Treated Donnie’s concussion and his back. Even April had managed to sprain her wrist in the fight, a mild and easily treatable injury, but an injury nonetheless.

But he was fine. Even after tripping and falling in the Nexus; he wasn’t hurt at all.

He felt fine.

They gave him fluids, anyway, for how much he had bailed out in quiet sobs and sniffles.

April’s mom and dad met them at the hospital, getting there almost as soon as they did, and were in absolute pieces. Mikey had never seen April’s dad cry before, but he had been experiencing a lot of firsts of that ilk recently, so he supposed he wasn’t that surprised. They hugged April and didn’t let her go until she insisted that they were crushing her and she couldn’t breathe. She, much like Leo, was informed that she was grounded for the rest of her life for doing something so reckless and stupid. Their dad apologized at least eighty times for putting her in harm’s way, for getting her involved in such danger, but April’s parents insisted that they were just relieved that everyone was okay, and Mikey could tell that they really meant it.

Their dad and April’s parents were really good friends, actually. He had almost boundless memories of the three of them hanging out and chatting while he and his siblings played. They’d often sit out on the front stoop together when it was nice outside. April’s mom came over regularly for tea. Her dad and his dad played baseball together, even, on the weekends sometimes.

He supposed they had probably been scared for him, too.

And then eventually, they were just…

Home.

Before Mikey knew it, he was back in his own room, staring at the wall and wondering how the hell he got here.

Was this real? He kept waiting to wake up, and it didn’t happen. Did all that actually happen? When he reached back through his memories and touched them, they wiggled like Jell-O, and he wasn’t quite sure if he could trust them or not.

He shifted in place, hearing the springs of the mattress creak beneath him. He smoothed his hands over the cotton of his bedspread, feeling the soft, knitted texture beneath the pads of his fingers.

He stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that his dad had put there for him when he was four.

He was certain he was here now. They had… made it back home. His brothers were home, too. They had all retreated back to their own rooms for the night when they all finally got home, at nearly four in the morning, all exhausted from the experience. Even their dad was home. He knew he was. He watched him get here with them.

Very slowly, Mikey sank down in bed, laying flat on his back.

And even though he had been crying all day, it felt like he was finally letting the dam burst when he reached deep down into his chest and pulled out an aching, shuddering, genuine sob.

---

Raph didn’t think he could ever miss his own bed so much. He spread himself out, splaying out his limbs like a starfish, before eventually rolling over onto his side, curling up and finding the closest stuffed animal to grab and hang onto.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he had been starting to wonder if they would ever see their home again.

But now they were here. All of them, safe and sound. Their dad included. Their dad was home.

They got their dad home.

He got everyone back home.

But somehow, he didn’t feel better yet.

That wasn’t really true. He did! Mostly. He kind of felt better. He-- he was relieved, certainly. He was so grateful that everyone was home, safe and sound-- that everyone was safe, that Dad was okay, that Leo was okay, he just…

He hadn’t expected to feel so…

Angry.

But now, laying here in his bed, staring off at the wall and listening to their quiet house, all filled up to the brim with his family, that was all he could feel. It felt sour in his stomach, poking and prodding at the edges of his muscles and ribs like a horned creature, snorting hot and pawing at his gut and stamping its hooves, jabbing at him over and over until his face felt ugly and awful and warm.

He was angry that they were lied to. That they were tricked. That their lives weren’t what they thought they were all this time.

He was angry at the pain that had been inflicted on their family. For all the tears that his siblings had cried over the past two-and-a-half weeks. He was angry at the suffering that their father had endured for the entertainment of others in a glorified fight pit. He was angry that there were people who would do that to them-- who thought that that was okay. He was angry for every drop of blood that he had lost.

He was angry at himself for believing something untrue; for how naive and silly it made him feel, even if he recognized that the circumstances were complicated to say the least. He was angry for how close he had come to letting his family slip through his fingers.

But mostly, he was angry that their father had ever agreed to go away from them.

He and his siblings had been prepared to go to the ends of the earth to find him and bring him home and reunite their family. Raph would have done anything to get him back. They all would have. They were ready to give up everything if they had to.

And he had agreed to stay away?

He had agreed to leave them behind?

He was shocked by how meaningless he could suddenly feel in the face of his own father, who had never before made him feel anything but loved.

His anger smoldered inside of him like a stubborn campfire, unwilling to be put out, even as hot tears of frustration singed their way down his face.

---

He couldn’t sleep.

Wow, what a surprise.

If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t even tried, but he had very little interest in engaging with the process right now. Besides that, he wasn’t even that interested in the prospect of sleeping at all. Just the idea of trying to sleep right now was exhausting and wholly unappealing. He was too tired to try to fall asleep. He just wanted…

Well, he didn’t actually know what he wanted.

He supposed that’s how he had ended up here.

Leo had been curled up in the same place on the floor for hours now, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting on his knees as he just… stared at himself in the mirror. Examined his body, a tiny frown on his face.

It looked the same. Just the same as he always had. The same stripey face and spotted belly. The same curly blonde hair with dark roots poking through. His chin curved the same way it always did, his waist still pinched the same way, his shoulders sloped just the same as they always had.

He had never loved his body. He knew he acted all confident and cocky, and that wasn’t all for show-- there were times when he really did feel confident. Lots of times, actually. He was perfectly capable of being confident and capable and fucking bright as a person, and not as a body, and no, he wasn’t afraid to declare to anyone who wanted to listen that he was very cute, thank you very much, and yes, he did have great taste in clothes, and yes, his hair was amazing, wasn’t it? I’ll tell you what conditioner I use--

But truthfully, he didn’t love his body. He didn’t hate it, either-- it had just existed up until now. It had just been, and he had dealt with it, liked the parts that he liked and tolerated the parts he didn’t, making plans to customize in the future, and it was… okay.

But he had never despised his own skin so deeply as he did in this moment.

Looking at himself now, he couldn’t find a single thing to enjoy. He looked at himself in the mirror and he glowered, curling his lips in disgust, even though he was unable to look away.

It was the same as it was before. Nothing had changed. But somehow, he hated it now.

---

Donnie had always preferred to base his world on facts and logic over emotions. He had always found that this was what worked best for him. If he collected data, examined it, and allowed these values to influence his decisions, everything tended to work out better. No, admittedly, this did not, by any means, guarantee success, much to his annoyance, but he had run the statistics, and facts worked. They were reliable. He could lean on them and count that they would hold him up. He could place his trust there.

For example--

Fact: Hamato Donatello is adept in the care of tropical plants. This was supported by a vast array of data. He had no less than two dozen different varieties of houseplants flourishing in the living room alone that he could point to support this claim, thank you very much, and they were all thriving under his expert care. This was a fact. This was something that he knew to be true. He could rely on this. He could lean on this. It would not change.

Even those that he, at times, found painful, he could still count on.

For example--

Fact: Hamato Donatello is bad at talking to new people. He didn’t like it, but it was a fact. Never in his life had he met someone and been able to strike up a conversation without, at some point, putting his foot in his mouth and fucking it up or floundering. He always seemed to find a way to mess it up, even if he didn’t realize it until later on. Even if he, in the moment, thought that things were going great! He was… better than he had been. He had learned, over time, and gotten the hang of the art of conversation, at least to a degree. People he knew, he could handle, no problem but someone new? It was just…

It was just a bullet point in the long list of micro-facts that had always supported the claim of, “Hamato Donatello is different from other people. He doesn’t fit in, and there’s something that separates him from his peers.”

And he had always known this. He was diagnosed with autism when he was five. He had always known that he was different, that he didn’t quite match with everyone else. It had always felt like he was missing something; like handbooks or a set of rules had been passed out at some point, and he never got his copy. There were times when it had bothered him, sure, but he had long since come to terms with it. He had found people and places where he could fit, where ‘matching’ mattered a lot less, where the mold that he was expected to adhere to had far more give to it. He had spent years in therapy discussing this gap; years trying to learn the content of the missing ruleset through secondhand explanations. And even if it wasn’t always his favorite fact, it was still a fact. It was something that he knew to be true. He could rely on this. He could lean on this. It would not change.

Or, well. He had thought so.

He had set up a new spreadsheet so he could run through all the data-- so he could review what he thought he had known, and that which he could no longer rely on. He got to work measuring just how patchworked his universe had suddenly become. Began evaluating just how much of the floor was actively falling out from beneath him, and put it all into neat, numbered rows and columns.

Fact: Hamato Donatello is an awarded athlete.

(Inconclusive. If he was only a talented swimmer because he was a mutant, could any of these accomplishments really be attributed to him, in all fairness? Further research needed.)

Fact: Hamato Donatello is autistic.

(Inconclusive. Can this diagnosis be considered valid if he was not human? There was no diagnosis criteria for turtles. Perhaps he was just odd and different and didn’t fit because he was a mutant. Or because he was a failed experiment. Further research needed.)

Fact: Hamato Donatello is a member of the Hamato family.

(Inconclusive. If he was a mutant rather than simply his father’s child, did he really belong on the family tree? Could he actually be considered a Hamato descendent? Was their father truly their father to begin with? Further research needed.)

Fact: Donatello is a human being.

(Inconclusive. Though he was still not sure what his exact standing was, or how he could be categorized now, it was very clear that he was not simply a human as previously believed. Further research needed.)

Fact: Donatello is a member of society, just like everyone else, and deserves to be treated with kindness and respect by others.

(Inconclusive. He was not a human, and therefore, it could not be said that he was a ‘member of society,’ nor that he inherently deserved anything based on this status, despite what his therapist Mossy had previously taught him. This statement was based on outdated information, and could no longer be taken at face value. Further research needed.)

Fact: Donatello belongs in human society.

(Inconclusive. Further research needed.)

---

April was kind of starting to think that maybe her parents might mean it when they said she was grounded for the rest of her life. And, to be fair, she knew that she had scared them.

A lot.

She had scared herself, too. If she was being honest, she was still scared.

It had been weeks since she had last been here, standing in her own bathroom, looking at herself in her own mirror as she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. And it was all normal, all the same as it ever was, but--

Everything that had been keeping her upright the past three weeks, the adrenaline, the survival instincts, the desire to support her brothers and stay steady and hold them up while things fell apart, the desire to protect them, to figure things out, to investigate, to fix things, it was all…

It was all gone.

Everything that had been propping her up had suddenly given way, and she had just been carried up the stairs into the apartment by her dad, her arms wrapped around his neck like she was six again, getting home from a family outing that had gone late. And now she was sitting here in her bathroom and looking at her own face in the mirror and it was her face, and not anything spooky or mutated or unfamiliar, and that felt so unfair, somehow? And--

She hiccuped softly. And then she sobbed, until she eventually sank down onto the floor, curled up in a little heap and weeping softly.

Oh my god, what had just happened?

She could have died.

They all could have died.

Her brothers could have died. Leo could have died. She thought Leo was going to die.

She could have died.

She still had toothpaste in her mouth, and it was getting all down her chin and the front of her shirt, and it was fucking gross but she couldn’t really get herself to care. She just sat there and she cried until her mom knocked on the door, just barely cracking it open and joining her on the cold tile floor. And then, eventually, her dad had joined her, too, and she had wrapped herself up in their arms and practically climbed into his lap and just clung to them. She really didn’t know what else to do.

Something horrible almost happened. But it hadn’t. They were all okay. They were all home, but…

God, why did she feel like her little brother was still falling?

---

The whole way home, Yoshi was terrified that one of his children would begin talking to him. Terrified that one of them would ask some question that he wouldn’t be able to answer. But the journey back to their apartment was near silent. Somehow, that was almost worse.

He thought to himself, god, why is this your main concern right now? Why are you worrying about that, of all things? What is wrong with you?

He got everyone back home. He made sure each of his children ended up safely in their own beds. And, finally, he retreated back to his own.

He’d like to say that his room was just as he had left it, but that was untrue. It had clearly been ransacked multiple times, and he groaned softly, scrubbing at his face with his hands, wondering who all had been in here and what they had uncovered. He supposed there was nothing he could do about it right now.

He didn’t do much besides clear off his bed. One at a time, he removed the items stacked on top of it. The piles of old paperwork. The DVD cases. The dirty laundry. He didn’t have the energy to sort through any of it properly or put it away right now, so he simply placed it all to the side, stacking things on his dresser or tossing them across the room instead, promising himself that he would get to it in the morning and dreading the thought of it.

He would have a lot of things to do in the morning.

Internally, he scolded himself. Shouldn’t he be happy? Or at least relieved? This was the best case scenario. All of his children were home, safe and sound. He was home-- he would never have to set foot in the Battle Nexus again. He was free to live his life and raise his children, wasn’t he?

But the only thing he could find in his chest was dread, no matter how deep he dug. Very gingerly, he eased himself down onto his bed, laying out flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. There were no answers up there. He had looked many, many times before, and he already knew. At the very least, it felt good to lie down. To finally lay down properly in a bed and allow his body a proper break.

Ah, if only he could allow his mind to do the same…

What the fuck was he going to say to them? What… could he say? How was he supposed to explain all the choices and mistakes he made-- to explain the things he had done and what he was, and then still look them in the eyes? Even worse-- would they still want to? Would they be able to look at him?

God. How could he have let this happen to them?

His eyes wandered aimlessly around his room, a very soft sigh working its way up his chest. He felt like he had come back from the dead. He felt like a ghost. A part of him had already accepted that he would never be back here. Had accepted that he would never see his children ever again. And now here they all were, right here in the same house as him. Only a few floors away.

It didn’t quite feel real yet.

He wanted, more than anything, to get up and go get them this very second. He wanted to gather them all up in his arms like he did when they were babies and pile them up in his bed with him. He wanted to hold them all and fall asleep that way, knowing that they were there and that they were close and that they were okay. He didn’t think he possibly could sleep otherwise.

But he didn’t do that.

He was afraid that if he tried, they wouldn’t want to come with him. And that fear was enough to keep him pinned in place, cold and still, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

He knew they were upset. He could feel that they were upset, and how could he blame them? They were justified. They had every right to be upset, to be angry with him, to hate him, after all he had kept from them! After all the ways he had failed them. He just…

He hadn’t known what else to do.

He still didn’t know what else to do.

This had never been his intention.

---

“Dad--”

“Don’t run in the house,” he replied, not even looking down at his son as he dashed into the kitchen, quite nearly crashing into his leg.

“I wasn’t!” Leo protested, even though he most certainly was, rolling his eyes with a huff. “Dad, I’m gonna be late! Hurry up! Justin and Ben are already waiting for me!”

“Oh, well, if I am going too slowly, I suppose that you can pack your own snacks for camp from now on--”

“Dad!”

“So ungrateful,” he tsked, scooping the last of the vegetables he was slicing up into his son’s bento box, handing it over to the impatient eight-year-old. “There. All the carrot sticks and sugar snap peas that a little turtle could ever ask for,” he teased. A rarely used nickname, but one that sugar peas always made him think of, given how excitedly they would be devoured on the rare occasion he was able to offer some when they were small.

Leo scoffed as he accepted the offering, shoving it into his backpack. “Dad, we’re too old for that game. We don’t play turtles anymore,” he huffed.

Yoshi froze.

“What?”

“We’re not little kids, Dad! We don’t play make-believe anymore!” Leo said matter-of-factly, shooting his dad an absolute withering look. Yoshi floundered for a moment, struggling to find his tongue, which suddenly felt heavy in his mouth, before he finally nodded.

“Yes… of course.”

“I’ll be home later! Tell Donnie not to go in my room or else I’ll know!” Leo yelled over his shoulder as he ran out the door, hopping down the steps to meet his two classmates who were attending the same summer camp, and Justin’s mother, who had kindly offered to walk them to the bus stop each morning. Yoshi watched him go, and he waved, but things felt… far off.

He sat down on the kitchen chair once Leo was gone, and thought about the conversation for quite some time, wondering if he had understood correctly.

After sitting there for about twenty minutes, he eventually got to his feet, shuffling up the stairs to Mikey’s room and knocking gently on the door.

“Yeahhhhhh?”

Yoshi peeked his head in, unsurprised to find his youngest bent over some elaborate arts and crafts project, currently busying himself in taping a pack of construction paper together to create a massive canvas, no doubt for his latest masterpiece. Yoshi sighed very softly through his nose, smiling for just a second as he shuffled his way in.

“What are you working on, my son?”

“‘S gonna be a painting. But I want it to be big!” He explained, throwing his hands out to illustrate. “So I’m making a super big paper to paint on first.”

“Ah, I see. You will have to show me when you are done. I’m sure it’ll be very impressive.”

“Mmm-hmmmm,” Mikey confirmed, quickly returning his attention back to his project, his tongue sticking out from between his lips with his intense focus. Yoshi hesitated for a moment before he spoke again.

“Orange, do you remember… playing turtles?”

“Yeah,” Mikey replied easily. “Why?”

“Well,” he wobbled for a second, choosing his words carefully. “What do you remember?”

“Uhhh,” Mikey tilted his head to the side for a second before he shrugged. “I dunno. It was just a game we used to play. We used to pretend to be turtles and stuff when we were little. We used to play it all the time!” He chirped. “Buuuuut we don’t really play it much anymore. Leo says we’re ‘too old’ for make-believe,” he sighed. “But he still plays Jupiter Jim. He says that’s ‘acting’ and it’s different, but it’s not,” he informed their father, giving him an exasperated look, as if to say, ‘can you believe he would say something like that?’

“... Ah. I see. Thank you, Mikey.”

“Why?” Mikey asked again, and Yoshi swallowed.

“Nothing, no reason! I was just thinking of something else… Also, ah, I wanted to ask you, what do you think about pizza for dinner tonight, my son?”

“YEAH! PIZZA!” Mikey immediately cheered, his face lighting up, and Yoshi inwardly sighed in relief. Pizza for dinner was a small price to pay to put an end to this conversation. After taking a few requests (demands) regarding toppings and which place they should order from, Yoshi was eventually able to escape from his child’s room, closing the door behind him as he made his way back out into the hall.

He slumped against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

They…

Forgot. He hadn’t ever imagined that they would forget.

[ next ]

#sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau fanfic #fanfic #writing #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt human au #rottmnt au #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #we're in the 'feeling our feelings and processing trauma' chapter of the story

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