#mikey’s memory vault

[nagichi-boop]

cw // injury (non-graphic), death (non-graphic), implied amputation

How Leo lost his arm

Context in chapter 3 of the fic

(Part two will be released later in the fic)

[marwhoa]

request: a humble request, for 2k12 raph x reader (g/n or fem) yk that pairing where it’s grumpy x sunshine, reader is raph’s lil ball of happiness but acts like they aren’t and then gets a little jealous when reader’s attention is elsewhere, raph totally overthinking things like ‘i tot they only smile at me that way~~’ or just some inner angst where reader has to calm him down/reassure him >\\\\<

🝮 “ teensy-weensy hiccup, oops! ”

2012!raph x reader

author’s note: a new fic? so soon after the other? i may or may not have had time… may have done a li’l bit of writing in class, too… But! My first 2012 request! I hope you like uwu, thankies !!

word count: 1.8k (exactly! isn’t that crazy?)

“ Pay attention t’me. “

Y/N looked up from their place on the floor. Around them laid all kinds of craft materials, from pins to scissors, to glue guns and threads. A tablet was leaning against a box of fabrics, playing a “ How to Make Cute Plushies and Clothes! ” video—currently paused as they struggled to catch up. Their eyes met Raph’s green hues, wavering with an emotion they couldn’t quite pinpoint just yet.

“ What? “

Raph stiffened up visibly, his fists clenching—not out of anger, of course. He would never hurt you, and you were all too aware of that.

“ I just, ya spend so much time with my brothers! What about me, aren’t I just as cool as ‘em? “

Y/N sat stunned for a moment—had you really been paying so little attention to him? Roll the cameras real quick!

You recalled a memory earlier this week, when you had first come down to the lair.

———

“ Y/N, hey! Can you come hold something for me? “

Donnie called to you, from his doorway almost immediately after you stepped through the turnstile. Had it not been for this taking your attention, you might have caught Raph standing in the doorway of his room, frozen in a “ running-out-to-see-you ” position. His face faltered at the big goofy grin that you flashed Donnie, quick to rush in over and see just what kind of strange experiment you would have the pleasure to engage with—it couldn’t be that dangerous! Otherwise he would have asked Mikey, but then again, maybe it was slightly above Mikey-level of safety and right at Y/N-level of safety!

Slipping past the makeshift curtain door, into the taller violet scientist’s lab, Raph would give a huff and close his door, unbeknownst to your gaze.

———

You grimaced at the memory, sucking air through your teeth with a nervous little criss-crossing of your legs. It was then that another memory had come in.

———

“ Oh, Oh, Y/N! Come here, come here and try this that I made—I found a cooking book! “

That had piqued Y/N’s attention enough as they vaulted across the turnstile with a grin that quickly changed to skepticism.

“ Hey, you didn’t put anything weird in it, right? “

Their eyes narrowed at the orange banded turtle holding a moderately safe looking Tupperware of baked macaroni. But, could anyone truly be safe when a meal of Mikey’s came into the room? He eats pepperoni pizza out of the trash, jellybeans and anchovies on custom made pizzas, and happily ate the most nuclearly offensive sludge ever for how many years?! There was no way he didn’t slip SOMETHING strange into here!

“ Y/N, when have I ever made anything that wasn’t a MASTERPIECE, now try it! “

Mikey held a spoonful to Y/N, prompting them to accept spoon-fed food with a giggle that caused a certain red-bandana’d turtle to stir from his nappy-nap on the couch. It was here that he’d see the much-too-homey exchange between Mikey and Y/N—one that quickly dissolved into a screaming chase with the following dialogue:

“ MIKEY, WHAT IS THAT!? IT BLINKED AT ME! “

“ JUST TRY IT, I PROMISE ITS TAAAASTYYYYY!! “

“ NO, GET IT AWAY FROM ME, MIKEY I’M SO SERIOUS! “

Y/N and Mikey ran all around the living space—with you running for your ever-loving life and Mikey running playfully behind you with a much-too-unsettling smirk. This was most definitely a classic sibling move going on, and you would be damned if that Mac touched your tongue!

This memory ended with you leaping into Raph’s embrace—which almost didn’t work if his reflexes hadn’t caught you. Your face buried into his shoulder, muffling your screams, led you to not notice the soft smile that he had for a second before then deciding to protect you from your assailant!

———

Now this memory had Y/N glancing back to Raph to defend themselves, like “ hey, I did do this! cut me some slack, will ya? ” but that was halted by the last memory of the week stirring.

———

“ Y/N, can you come here a second? “

Y/N had come to the lair for a specific reason this time—a movie night planned for just them and Raph! Saturdays were always for the two of them, and they had never missed one!

That is, until tonight. They sidetracked for Leo, expecting it to truly be just a second or two and then straight to Raph’s room!

Instead, you had managed to spend nearly the entire night being scolded, lectured, and then trained by Leo. He had a point for most of it—you weren’t the most perceptive at times, and there was a point this week where it had almost cost you. The brothers had an unfortunate run in with the latest mutated victim, some sort of … possum monster? Well, you had obviously been heading back home from an after-school event when a tail shot towards you and coiled tightly around your waist.

There was only a few seconds for you to understand what was going on. A blur in your peripheral, a tightness around your waist, and a shout that you recognized—Raph! Your head turned to see him with a hand outstretched to you before your frame was lifted from the sidewalk and into the air. A startled screech left your mouth at the sudden whirling danger.

Thankfully, they resolved it quickly, but you hadn’t noticed how Raph huffed under his breath when Leo saved you. It made him uncomfortable how your arms reached out for Leo instead of him! Of course, that was dumb to be jealous about because at least you were safe and Leo always was a bit faster when it came to saving folks, but still! He knew it was dumb to be angry, but he wanted you to save those open arms for him. He wanted to be your knight, your hero, not Leo.

———

So, with those memories floating in their mind, Y/N patted beside them for Raph to sit. By now, the tablet had shut off, leaving the two in silence while surrounded by materials and a little somethin’-somethin’ that was covertly slid right on behind their back.

Not well enough, though!

“ What’s that? “

Raph asked, suspicious of what Y/N decided just HAD to be hidden right this second.

“ I’m sorry—I realize I may have been a tad bit … “

Y/N’s body shifted, facing Raph—swiftly ensuring the hidden treat stayed out of his gaze, of course— then raised their hand to cup his cheek as soft as a kiss as their thumb stroked him lovingly. He leaned into it, albeit still with the long, pouting face and emerald eyes that tried to fixate on the floor but always returned to your own gorgeous hues.

“ I have been a bit negligent with our time… I’m sorry about that, but do know that you’ve been on my mind the entire time! I swear. “

“ Psh, yeah, and that’s why you hung out with my brothers instead? Why you seem to give them more attention? More of your time? “

His voice may have seemed frightening to anyone else, but not you. No, you knew the truth of his tone. Raph wasn’t angry, he was simply worried. Worried you might see more in his brothers, the ones who were much more “ in control “ of their emotions, or at least more than he was. He was just the hothead, and he was just afraid that would scare you away.

“ Weeeeelllll, “

Y/N gave a nervous grin and twiddled their fingers.

“ That was more so a minor hiccup on my part, but here, I can prove it. “

From behind their back, Y/N held up a little turtle plushie. The nervous grin seemed to get wider as they rocked it back and forth with a sing-songy hum. While it had the cute shell on its back, the front plastron was more so like cute little overalls (which totally wasn’t because you may or may not have hiccuped on the steps, not at all, completely on purpose.) there were little dark green buttons as eyes—which you were still iffy about— but not yet a mouth.

“ I got a bit distracted… But, I’ve been trying to do this—you know, since I know the incident with Spike, er, Slash? I know you really loved him, so I figured, ‘hey, what if I made him something?’ A-And what better than a—umph! “

Your spiel was cut short as Raph hugged you suddenly, tightly. Silence followed, up until the softest “ thank you ” escaped him. You loosened up, hugging him back with a growing grin and laughs welling up in your chest.

“ I take it you like it? “

“ … I’m … sorry. “

Whispered ever so quietly was his apology, which you assumed was because of his earlier jealousy. The held-back laughs slipped out as your hold on him tightened comfortably.

“ No need to apologize, it’s my bad! I didn’t mean to push our quality time so far away, Raphie. “

At that nickname, you felt him stiffen for a second, as if contemplating something, before then wordlessly loosening up. Instead, his finger started tracing little circles upon your shoulder blade, hesitating to speak.

“ … So, am I special to you? “

“ Say what now? “

“ Special, like important! “

He pulled back with a blush dusting his cheeks. This time he nailed the whole “ avoid-eye-contact ” thing.

“ Of course, why wouldn’t you be the most important to me? I love you. “

“ Because, y’know… You flash your cute smile at everyone else, I was kind of hoping it was just for m—hey, what’s with that look? “

The most dazed, dumbfounded, disconnected-from-reality-for-a-second look had been plastered across Y/N’s face as a lovesick smirk tugged upwards on the side of their mouth.

“ You think my smile’s cute? “

“ THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE FOCUSED ON? “

“ YOOOUUUU SAAAAAIDDD IIIITTT~~~!! RAPHIE THINKS I’M CU—hWAAAA! “

In a sing-songy voice again, Y/N teased the red banded Raph in front of them. And did so a tad bit too far as he quickly pounced them down, initiating a playful fight-for-one’s-life (and by that, I mean he was trying to do his usual “ blows raspberries on your tummy ”, but who in their right mind would allow that? It tickled! It was silly! Unhand me, I beg of thee!)

After the both of you settled down with giggles, he came to be laying upon his back with his eyes up to the ceiling. You rested upon his plastron, cheek pressed against your arm.

“ You know I love you, right? You mean the world to me, Raph. “

Raph tilted his head, looking at you for a few seconds of silence. He rolled his eyes then pulled you over up onto him more to just hug you closer to him. Consider it his way of saying, “ yes, and I hope you know it’s the exact same for me. “

[fairysylveon]

THEY'RE DONE ✨

my borderlands OCs: an eridian fanatic / eridian weapon replica manufacturer, a former FPS e-sports champion turned vault hunter, and a disillusioned guardian who bears resentment towards eridians for his lack of purpose following their extinction

(& their dog)

+ bonus: jensen's body at various key stages. he's been muscular from young adulthood due to being a dahl marine (lost legion combat medic).

[+ I just didn't want to edit the base too much bc this ref already took me way too long lmfao]

some bonus info under the cut!

JENSEN: ((33, he/him)) vault hunter, unofficial researcher, & traveling salesman who specializes in making extremely accurate replicas of eridian guns to make them more widely available to the public. carries his wares in a modified eridian fabricator. a former lost legion combat medic, his obsession with all things eridian began when he met the watcher and was invited into the vault of the sentinel alongside zarpedon and the rest of her soldiers. aka my new favorite gary stu. an accomplished researcher, especially due to his guardian companion's insider knowledge, he could probably teach tannis a few new facts and theories, but at the very least he could keep up in a discussion with her

MIKEY: ((26, he/him)) the biggest name in the competitive scene for his game of choice, he grew bored of being the best, and longed for a real challenge. (he would probably be a borderline zer0 kinnie if zer0 wasn't a real person in universe lmfao) so he traded his mouse and keyboard for a sniper rifle and set off to do the improbable: open vaults. (and try 360 no scopes in real life. so far he's only managed to fall on his ass) says things like "newb" and "ggez" when he kills someone.

THE DESERTER: ((predates the landing at nekrotafeyo, he/him, less frequently they/them)) formerly "the archivist", his initial purpose was keeping written records of key historical moments in eridian history. most of their work was destroyed preceding the wipe of eridians from human memory. when the extinction came, he was supposed to stand vigil alongside the watcher and record one final record, though it was to be hidden within a vault. he couldn't watch them all sacrifice themselves, however, and abandoned his post, making his new name the last thing he was ever given by his creators. now, lacking a purpose and growing irrational resentment for being abandoned by their creators, they travel the galaxy with an eridian fanatic, and drip feed him information (can't be TOO forthcoming, he's still an irritatingly cryptic guardian 80% of the time)

RIPLEY: ((adult skag approx 3-4 yrs, female)) simply a baby. very tame and docile towards allies but violently protective. presumably domesticated and selectively bred for her small stature and lack of pointy spines. was abandoned by her previous owners for reasons unknown, and jensen discovered her starving on the outskirts of a town on pandora. likes belly rubs. knows the word treat so you have to spell it out around her unless you want her to lose her mind.

[nani-nonny]

Setting Sun: Part 1

Welcome to Setting Sun, a rottmnt vote-based short story where readers dictate how the story continues on. Your goal as the reader is to choose the best option to 1. Continue the story and 2. Learn what you can about the “lore” behind this story.

Every update has a week to vote for how the next part of the story starts. Be cautious in making your decision! Your decision could very well end the story before you learn anything or before the “planned” happy ending.

The readers only get one (1) chance to change a voted decision if you get a “bad” ending(or have some unanswered questions). So remember to be cautious when voting (nothing spooky/gory happens so no stress).

If you have any questions or something doesn’t make sense, feel free to ask and I’ll fix it or make it easier to understand! This is a first for me so this could be rough hahah!

Enjoy this short story and be patient in the wait time. (I would have made it one day to vote, but I need time to write other stuff too hehe... that and work and shit.)

Mikey can’t count how many days, weeks, months he has been in this place. Everyday is the same, every person he encounters is the same as the last, every day is the same. But the only thing he can count on, the only thing that changes the most in this godforsaken place is the setting sun.

No matter what he is doing, even if he is on the run or hiding in the deepest cave, he runs for the nearest height. He runs and runs even after his lungs burn and his heart can’t keep up. He runs until his blistered, burning, calloused feet slid to a stop on a cliff or remnants of a building.

Then he watches the sunset. He sits down and tries to control his breathing as he takes in the new colors of the sun. He takes in the brilliant array of colors, embedding them into his mind. He watches as the orange tones consume the redness of the flaming sun, enveloping the tint of hidden yellows.

Nothing could compare to this. Not even the sunrises he sought out in hopes to capture the same feeling he gets when he watches the sunset. But it didn’t feel the same. The soft blue that rises with the sun didn’t make him feel warm and calm like the sun pulling the navy blue canvas freckled with white points into the sky.

God, how he wanted to encapsulate this moment. He wanted to replicate it with his own hands, each and every sunset. He wanted to hang them up on every nook and cranny of the vault that was his memories. But he knows he can’t. He knows that he can’t afford to stay in one spot longer than necessary.

Not when they’re after him.

He doesn’t know how he got here, or why he’s being chased. He doesn’t know what this place is and if he can even call it what used to be home. He doesn’t recognize anything—not like there was much to make an attempt off of.

That was this place’s constant. A large, open plain that stretches beyond what seems like infinity. Sandstorms seem to always be brewing, whipping around clothing and blinding views. There hardly is any time to rest in between sandstorms, and the harsh whip of wind accompanied by clusters of sand hurt like hell.

Even the occasional person he met was a constant. They always wore the same attire: a long beige cloak to blend in with the sand, large beige scarf that hid their eyes from the sand, and voices that Mikey could barely hear over the wind. He would try to ask them anything—get some clues as to where he was, but they would give one of three replies.

“What? I can’t hear you!”

“Sorry, can’t chat!”

“Heed my warning, stay away from the Riots!”

Mikey never got to know what or who “the Riots” are, and he’s not entirely sure he wants to find out. He learned quickly that mentioning it to anybody he passed would result in immediate silence paired with avoiding eyes.

He wouldn’t have a problem with that as it was easy to tell they were trouble. The problem is that he doesn’t even know how he was supposed to avoid “the Riots” should he ever come close to encountering them or whatever it is.

And he’s not entirely sure if they’re actually bad news. If anything, they could be his ticket out of this unchanging place. Maybe they could be his saviors and provide all the water, food and protection he needs instead of constantly running to and fro. Maybe they could provide shelter instead of having to find some remnants of a building sticking out of the ground or sleeping dangerously out in the open.

And forever the optimist, he hopes that he just might meet these people. He hopes that he will find something new.

But it’s hard to keep holding onto that hope when everything—as far as the eye can see—is the same no matter what direction he looks.

So, he stops for a moment. Just like every day in this strange and unchanging and windy plain, he must choose his path.

Going in circles wouldn’t do him any good, so he has to make a choice: Forward or turn tail.

[nerves-nebula]

Wouldn't it be funny if. If Dpnnie blamed himself for what happened with Abe. But then, sometime after or near the farmhouse or smthn, he stops and the whole situation, while still awful and dragging on his health, feels less like a lead weight in his brain he has to avoid to not poison him.

And then they, probably Mikey or Raph, get Leo to talk about what they saw with Splinter. And all Donnie hears is Leo making excuses for Splinter and blaming only himself (and boy does some of the stuff he says about himself here remind him of a particular conversation they had had years ago now-) and Donnie's thoughts? They creep up, slither around his brain and squeeze, and like gouache reactivated with water, self-blame too intersects the wrinkles and cracks of his mind as his own prior major situation falls like a rock into the front of his head.

He should leave now. Memories pound on his internal vault door, seeping through and showing themselves off with a wicked grin to pair with their wicked badge of honour. But it's Leo who's airing his issues right now, which should be focused on and helped. It'd be unfair- unfair and rude- for him to leave when Leo is just now feeling confident enough to tell them this kind of stuff, especially when it's so so difficult.

So he stays, and he listens, and his brain listens too. And he doesn't think he'll ever forget what Leo says, wholly blaming himself.

For a moment, Donnie thinks again, 'Maybe it was my fault too.'

yeah that would be really funny >:) that'd be hilarious >:)

[keysszz]

Its Ok to Cry

ROTTMNT Fanfic

'No Mikey, you let go.'

'Oh... Okie dokie!'

He watched the box turtle fall as he began to aim the web goo at the spider lady. She landed into the vault with the door slamming shut; a smile forming on the softshell's face. He flew his bug vehicle to catch his orange brother... But he was falling too fast.

He heard him screaming his name, falling as the genius tried to fly down fast enough. He tried to catch him, but he was falling too fast and the ground was coming closer and closer and~

He woke up in a cold sweat; startled by his nightmare. He had been having the same one for weeks now, and he hated it. The way it would end would change every night, but it had two frequent outcomes. Mikey would either get captured by Big Mama, or he would fall to his death. He thought that he was past this, but it seemed like his brain had other things in mind.

Why...why did he tell his younger brother to let go? Yeah, he ended up catching him in the end but...what if he hadn't? What if he miscalculated; but he could never do that, he was a genius...right?

Big Mama was a huge threat to the turtles brothers (even if the purple masked turtle didn't want to admit it), and she could have grabbed Mikey if she really wanted to. If Donnie hadn't shot the web goo at her with the right angle and momentum, she would have gotten the box turtle with one swoop. In seconds, Mikey would be in her grasp; or worse, in seconds, he could have died.

Donnie sat up in his bed with his knees up. He hugged them as he tried to make the thoughts go away so he wouldn't be up for so long, but he knew it wouldn't work. He sighed a shaky breath as he stared at the wall, trying to make his breathing be a little normal.

It was far easier than the last time he had this nightmare. One time he couldn't breath for three minutes; making the softshell think he would hypervenalate too much and pass out.

He was supposed to be the genius of the family; to calculate angles and plans easily. But...this one had seemed so simple; he didn't think about the possible consequences. One wrong more and his brother was taken from him... One wrong moved and his brother was too far for him to catch... One wrong move... And his brother was gone.

He...he was scared. Of what, he didn't exactly know. But his younger brother was so close to being in the arms of "Ms. Fiddly Boo" that he wondered if she could reach him. Mikey could have also fallen faster; making Donnie not be able to catch him in time. Why did he tell his brother to let go? Why did he tell his brother to fall? Why did he tell him to let go?

He sighed again as his breath slowly returned to normal; his lungs no longer aching as they tried to get air into them. He slowly got out of bed and walked out of his room; hoping that coffee would make him feel better.

He walked to the kitchen and made the coffee; sipping it slowly to get the full effect (and to not burn his tongue). The bitter taste that the coffee brung filled his mouth, making him smile lightly. At least something was real at the moment.

Real...was the nightmare real? Sure, it felt real, but it wasn't a real thing that happened. It could have happened, but it didn't. So why did he feel so rotten inside?

He felt his smile slowly fade into a frown. He poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and stared as it went.

In a way, the coffee was like his soul...

Yeah, the coffee happened to be black, but he felt like his soul would leave him if Mikey was hurt (if it wasn't already gone to begin with). He knew he would never let himself be ok with it; the endless amounts of times he would feel pain, the amounts of nightmares he would get. He would have wanted himself to get hurt, not Mikey. Mikey was too young, too niave, too-

Sighing again, the softshell walked slowly back to his room.

Should he build the younger turtle a battle shell? Mikey's shell was way harder than Donnie's, but it would help the softshell cope with...this whole situation.

The way Mikey smiled when the genius caught him... It pained the purple turtle. Mikey knew he would catch him; something deep inside told the orange turtle that Donnie would be there for him. Something told the box turtle that everything would be ok. How would Mikey feel in the afterlife if Donnie let him down; if the concrete had made contact with him, if the spider had caught him?

Donnie didn't want to think this way, but he had been doing it for many nights now that it started to feel normal. A part of his nightly routine if you will, and he wanted to at least make the memories fade away.

The screams of terror that followed the fall... Mikey was scared. He knew Donnie would catch him; but being up that high with the ground slowly coming into view wasn't the best thing to look at. He trusted his brother... Something that Donnie just couldn't do himself.

He was halfway to his room when he saw a small light in his younger brother's room. He tilted his head slightly in confusion as he walked towards the room; spotting a blanket in the middle of the floor with a figure underneath. There was a light coming out from the small "fort", and the blanket moved as the figure inside did as well.

"Mikey?" Donnie pondered as he walked closer to the blanket. "What are you doing up?"

The said box turtle slowly lifted his blanket; a smile appearing when he noticed who was in the room with him. Mikey had appeared to be drawing as the flashlight lit up the small fort he made, making him able to see.

"Hey Dee!" Mikey greeted. "I wasn't sleepy, so I decided to draw."

"On the floor?" Donnie pondered.

"It's easier to draw on the floor than on the bed," Mikey responded. "Plus, a change of scenery is always nice."

He patted the floor beside him; Donnie slowly walking over to his orange brother. He sat down beside the box turtle and watched him draw; silence filling the room.

Should he tell Mikey about his nightmares? He didn't want to alarm the young turtle, and he really wasn't good at sharing his feelings. But something in him told the softshell that his brother would understand. It was Mikey after all, and he was way better at feelings than Donnie was.

"What were you doing up?" Mikey asked him suddenly, bringing Donnie out of his train of thought.

"Um..." Donnie said as he tried to think up an excuse. "Inventing."

"Ooo!" Mikey exclaimed softly; never looking up from his drawing. "What are you making?"

"Well...um... It's more like tweaking something..." Donnie responded. "Lets just say its a secret."

"Oh, Okie dokie!" Mikey smiled up at the genius as he focused more on his drawing.

Donnie flinched slightly. That line... Mikey had said the same thing when he let go of the vehicle, and it surprised the softshell. Mikey seemed to notice and he looked up at Donnie confused.

"You ok, Dee?" He asked in concern.

"Yeah, yeah," Donnie brushed of the younger turtle's question. Mikey didn't stop looking at the softshell; Donnie could feel his concern rising with every second.

"Donnie, I have a question," Mikey said; his gaze never leaving the genius.

"What is it?" Donnie asked.

"Are you... Are you still worried about that night?" Mikey questioned. "You know, the one with Big Mama and me falling?"

Donnie stared at Mikey. He sighed as he looked in the other direction. Of course Mikey would know if something was up; he was always good at figuring out if his brother were hurt.

"Maybe..." Donnie replied as he turned back to face the box turtle.

"Donnie, it's ok," Mikey said as he placed his arm on his older brother. Since Donnie didn't flinch, he kept talking.

"I'm safe now, I'm not hurt."

"But you could have been hurt!" Donnie responded; lowering his voice once he realized he was too loud.

"Big Mama could have caught you, or I could have missed when I was coming to get you."

"But you didn't," Mikey reassured. "I'm ok now."

"It's just..." Donnie began; ready to tell the box turtle the truth. "The nightmares... They're so vivid..."

"You're having nightmares?" Mikey asked in concern.

"Yeah..." Donnie responded. "They aren't that bad, per say, but they're frightening. The ground comes up so fast, and seeing you hit it and go unconscious... I just..."

His voice choked up as he talked; trying not to let too much of his feelings show. He wasn't going to cry; but man, was he close to doing so.

The whole time Mikey listened to Donnie; another thing that the softshell liked about his younger brother. He listened, and he didn't talk until he knew that his brothers were finished talking.

"Donald..." Mikey said quietly. "I didn't know you felt that way... I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing?" Donnie questioned. "It's not your fault."

"But I still made you worry," Mikey replied. "I knew you were gonna catch me, but you didn't trust yourself."

Donnie sighed again; his breath shaking. He looked at Mikey as a smile slowly appeared on the box turtle's face.

"You can cry, Donnie" Mikey told him. "I won't mind."

"I'm not gonna cry," Donnie said. "I'm fine..."

"Its better to let your feeling go than to bottle them up," Mikey reassured. "Go ahead, I won't tell anyone."

Sniffles came out of the softshell as they slowly turned into cries. He cried silently as Mikey hugged him; tears going down the younger turtle's plastron. Mikey didn't tell him to stop; he let Donnie cry. He knew that it was hard for Donnie, and he wanted to make sure that everything was alright. He knew that feelings were hard for him, and he was surprised that Donnie actually had started to cry.

Nevertheless, he let the purple turtle cry until he couldn't.

Five minutes had passed, and Donnie's cries turned into just sniffles.

"Sorry..." He murmured.

"Don't be sorry, Dee," Mikey told him. "You need to cry every once in a while."

"Yeah, I guess..." He said. He then smiled softly at his brother. "Thanks."

"No problem!" Mikey smiled. He then looked at his drawing. "Wanna watch me draw some more?"

"I have nothing better to do," Donnie chuckled.

Mikey grinned as he started to draw again, Donnie watching as he did so. Donnie really had to control his feelings, but for now, knowing that his brother was ok was all he was worrying about.

[ghost-chance]

A New Lease on Life - 5: You Can't Set a Broken Soul

Trigger Warnings: The usual, bad coping methods, minor bullying including self-bullying

Suggested Listening: Avril Lavigne "Nobody's Home"

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5: You Can't Set a Broken Soul

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February 8, 2016

"Why'd you have to leave, Amber?" Aaron muttered into a mostly empty glass of cheap beer. "Why'd you go out on your own like that? You were safe in the shelter…"

Amber stared in dismay from the dark corner of the skeazy bar. Aaron would never have been caught dead in a place like this, much less drunk on cheap alcohol. He HATED the stuff, hated the memories it always brought forth—memories of the friends and family he lost to the can and bottle. Though truth hurt, Amber knew without a doubt he was drinking over her—her senseless, needless death had driven her best friend to drinking.

"Aaron…" she whispered, inching toward the bar. "Aaron, I'm sorry…" As though she hadn't even spoken, the barkeeper laughed derisively behind his newspaper.

"Dis's ruh-DICK-yulus,"- the portly man drawled thickly. "Dis ahticle says ova half da people who died in da twista was ig-NOR-in da sirens—any dumb bee-itch who'd go out in weh-da like dat dee-zerves—"- Without warning, Aaron's heavy glass stein crashed onto the counter, shattering from the impact.

"SHUDDUP!"- he slurred angrily, clumsily launching himself over the counter at the barkeeper. "You di'n't- know'er—you got no right to judge'er!"-

As the two grappled and traded blows, the ceiling violently tore away. Amber turned fearfully to the gaping rafters, her heart racing. Clouds gathered in the barren skies forming menacing grey thunderheads. Blue and green lightning cracked from cloud to cloud racing the rolling thunder.

Her lungs tight from fear, her ears aching from the plummeting air pressure, Amber fell to the ground, scrambling into the nearest corner and staring up in horror. Though torrents of rain fell, though the power flickered and failed, though wind tore through the bar like a vengeful ghost, the patrons never budged, staring blankly through their drinks as though the world weren't coming to an end. She was alone—alone with the demon that killed her and haunted her dreams.

Sirens wailed in the distance; a familiar sputtering roar deafened her. Grey-green clouds split in a merciless, mocking grin. As the world fell away around her, Amber screamed unheard pleas to the merciless winds, certain she'd breathed her last.

Amber shot up in bed with a panicked shriek; as her racing heart calmed and the phantom ache in her skull faded, the blanks filled themselves in around her. Old, stained brick walls, vaulted concrete ceiling with exposed ducts, pipes, and wiring, the distant rumble of a passing subway train, slow whirring and beeping from the ridiculously advanced machinery around her…she was safe.

"Not again," she rasped, pulling the patched quilt around her as she waited for the shaking to stop. "Damn night terrors…gettin' fuckin' old."

She glanced wearily over at the clock. It was four am…she'd gotten five full hours of sleep. In her previous life, she was useless without nine to ten hours a night; now she was lucky to get three. The hourly trains triggered nightmares and kept her awake fighting a constant barrage of graphic memories and chills that had no basis in temperature. Five hours of uninterrupted sleep? 'It's like Christmas,' she thought sarcastically, picturing a decent night's sleep packaged up in a box with a big red bow.

Without further ado, she disentangled herself from the sheet and quilt, rummaged under the cot for her folded clothes and basket of toiletries, and padded out of the room barefoot. After a quick stop in the bathroom, she set up the coffee maker on autopilot, staring blankly through the scratched wooden table as the percolating machine hissed, dripped, and belched. After downing a cup of sweetened, creamed tar-juice, she set up a second cup with only sugar.

Stopping only to deliver it to the still slumbering genius, she hit the showers, choosing the farthest stall from the door as usual. That one had a working lock. The room's fixtures had obviously been salvaged from somewhere, but fixing the warped, vandalized locks apparently wasn't very high on Donatello's list of priorities. Maybe because the lair once had only male residents and most men weren't all that concerned about being seen in the buff by other men? She cringed, wrenching the elastics from her tangled hair; she still wasn't sure if Mikey had barged in on her on purpose, but she wasn't willing to risk a recurrence.

The moment the water started up, she started humming loudly to block out the sound. She'd once loved the sound of water—had once slept deepest when rain was falling—but that was before her fear of severe storms became a fear of even the lightest rainstorm, and long before she was killed and given another life. Now the sound of rain terrified her and the dripping showerhead sent chills down her spine. As she lathered up her hair, she thought back to better times, better days, and a soft voice that once lulled her to sleep with songs of their youth.

The roar of water rattling the overhead pipes ripped Donatello from his hard-earned sleep. As his eyes blearily cranked open, he again cursed his decision to leave the ceilings in the lair unfinished; even a suspended ceiling could muffle the noise a little. Scratching his neck, he hoisted himself up in his bed and fumbled for his glasses. As his eyes focused, the blurry splotch by his alarm clock solidified into a mug of steaming coffee. The coffee was prepared far too sweet, as usual, and he nearly sprayed it all over the clock's display once he realized what it read.

"Four-thirty in the morning?" he groaned, digging his knuckles into his aching eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me...this can't go on." As his bedroom was the closest to the lab, he was always woken several times nightly. Every time Amber cried out in her sleep, every time she thrashed around and fought the demons haunting her dreams, every time she woke up screaming herself hoarse, he was woken by the noise. Every time her nightmares deprived him of sleep, he spent the rest of the night struggling with his own thoughts and feelings. Sorrow at her condition—guilt about being unable to save Kimber's life—resentment over lost sleep and interrupted work—disgust at himself for resenting Amber when she clearly wasn't responsible…the list went on and on.

With every day that passed, he became ever more certain that Amber wasn't as well as she tried convincing herself. Every time the subway rumbled overhead she fell into another panic attack, and sometimes even a flashback. Several times daily she'd turn up missing without any word of where she was going, and more often than not he'd find her tucked beside the running washing machine or wedged into the foot-well of his desk, shaking violently and smothering tears in her knees. She was getting worse every day…and for the first time in his life, Donatello was faced with a problem he knew was beyond his skill.

Amber wasn't a broken machine—she was a broken woman. He couldn't fix her.

"It was down in La-wheezy-yan—AH!- Jus' about a mile from Texarkana," an off-key voice echoed from the bathroom. Donatello sank into his usual seat at the battered table, staring through his coffee cup. "OW! In them ol' cotton fields back home–DAMMIT!" The water had long since shut off; every now and then, the song was interrupted by a cry of pain or curse, signifying that Amber had moved on to impatiently wrenching the tangles from her hair. She still wasn't used to Kimber's body, especially the second set of posts in her ears and the ring on the left one, and routinely snagged them in the bristles. Between oaths and verses, Donnie dozed off at the table, nodding into his empty cup.

"Ah, shoot." The sudden phrase startled him awake, and in the blink of an eye, he was crouched before his chair brandishing his empty coffee cup as a weapon. Amber stood in the doorway to the kitchen cringing in embarrassment. "I woke ya up again, didn't I?" She brought the coffee carafe over to refill his cup as he slouched back into his seat.

"Yeah," he answered honestly, trying to stretch the crick out of his neck. "No big deal, though…not like you do it on purpose." She shook her head with a wry smile and made her way to the kitchen sink. As she passed by, he realized something was different…he stared in surprise. Instead of just keeping her hair in a high, messy bun, she'd separated it into twin tails at her nape and braided them tightly. She'd discovered the other day that even though her hair still smelled fruity, the red was starting to fade. Apparently she was so excited to be returning to her natural color that she changed things up a little. With her hair still so red, though…He winced. Breakfast was going to be a disaster.

"So," he attempted, striving for a casual tone and failing. "What's with the change?" She ducked around the open cabinet door to meet his eyes.

"You noticed?" she smiled brightly as she mixed up a huge bowl of pancake batter. "I got sick'a fighting my hair all day so I went back to basics—before I got here, I usually wore my hair like this. I'm lazy like that." She dug a package of wilting blueberries from the fridge, picking out the stems as she tossed the berries into the bowl. "After all the change an' drama, it's a real comfort havin' my braids back."

"It's…" He scrambled for words between the worries. "…cute. Maybe you should wait until the dye fades, though. I just know—"

"S'up, Angelcakes?" Mikey called out from the doorway. "What's for—Whoa!" Donatello cringed, retreating to the coffeemaker; he knew this was going to happen. "Blueberry pancakes?! Sweet!"

"Wait, what?" Donnie muttered dubiously.

"Yup!" Amber grinned, mixing in a little extra sugar as Mikey dug out a pair of battered skillets and spatulas. "They were about dead anyway, so I figured why not? It'll be a nice treat." As Michelangelo fried pancakes and Amber scrambled eggs, Donatello watched silently, hoping that his worries really were unfounded.

About halfway through the bowl of batter and eggs, Leonardo and Splinter sat at their places, conversing over morning tea. Right as the stove burners were switched off, Raphael lumbered through the door to the coffeemaker. Halfway there, he pulled a double-take, gaping at Amber's braids in disbelief and derision. He said nothing, retreating to his seat with a steaming mug of coffee. When Amber bustled to the table to dole out breakfast, he struck.

"So," he asked snidely. "Where's da meat, Wendy?"

"Hey, now," Leo began, but Mikey cut him off.

"Don't be such a jerk, Raphie," the youngest scolded, playing with the end of a punch red braid. Amber's comforted smile warped into a deadpan glower a moment later when she felt both braids lifted up at either side of her head. "Too many freckles! She looks more like Pippi Longstocking!"

"Hardy, har, har," she grumbled, setting the two platters down a little more roughly than necessary. While Raph and Mikey bantered over which was a more accurate resemblance, she retreated to the living room with yet another cup of coffee. Donatello was used to Raph and Mikey's antics—he'd been the butt of their jokes more times than he'd like to admit—but this time, he was pissed. He loaded her untouched plate and his own with pancakes and eggs and dug for flatware in the drawer.

"She's been nothing but helpful since she arrived," he reminded the two troublemakers coldly. "She cooks, she cleans, she picks up after your ungrateful asses, and right when she starts to relax, you tease her!" He shot them both a glare as he left. Sometimes they absolutely disgusted him, Raph especially. He found Amber on the cot in the lab, lying on her back with her head dangling over the side and brushing through her long loosened hair. Though he'd only seen them once, he already missed the braided tails; why eluded him at the moment. "Hey."

"Hey yerself," she shot back with a grin, wrestling her hair into a high ponytail. As she sat up and fastened the coiled mass into a sloppy bun, he pulled up his rolling stool and held out her plate.

"You forgot this—dig in." Moss green eyes scrutinized him seriously. He avoided her eyes, passing the plate and flatware. "Don't mind them. They're just—"

"It's okay, Donnie." Confused, he finally met her eyes; she didn't really seem upset anymore. "If unflatterin' comparisons and immature folks were all it took to ruin my day, I'd'a- died a hermit. This body? It ain't me—I was short, fat, clumsy, partly crippled, an' I started goin' grey before I hit drinkin' age. I've been called much worse'n- any'a that. It's no big deal." She halfheartedly scraped a chunk of egg around on her plate while Donatello let the description sink in. "B'sides, Aaron used to say much worse…an' he's—was my best friend. I'm used to gettin' shite from people, and I'm more than willin' to give it back." She shot an up-to-no-good grin up at him. "I'll get'em-…but not 'til they've let their guard down. Meantime, let'em squirm."

"If you're sure, Amber," he relented, then paused for a bite of his own pancakes. "Forgive me for asking, but…before twenty-one?" She chuckled.

"Yeah. Lots'a early grey in my family. My uncle Bart went shock white while he was in high school; findin' my first silver at nineteen was lucky, considerin'." She took another sip of coffee before adding, "It always hit the redheads worst. I wasn't a redhead, but there was enough red in my hair to turn me into a brown skunk." He couldn't help but grin at the mental image.

"It didn't embarrass you?"

"Course it did," she answered honestly. "For a while, I kept my hair cut above the neck an' never went anywhere without a hat or hair-scarf—couldn't afford dyein' it all the time. Course, then everyone jus' assumed I was goin' bald and started pullin' me aside to talk about the cancer I was supposedly dyin' of. I finally had it when my roommate Mercy dragged me to a cancer survivors group shpeal; flipped'er off, flashed my stripes, an' walked home. Apparently the granny-hair spoke for itself." She finally gave up on pushing her food around and passed the plate back to him. "Guess I'm not really hungry; help yourself. I better get to work, right?"

"Amber," he scolded, latching onto her arm and anchoring her in her seat. "You have to eat—you skipped breakfast and lunch yesterday, and the day before you only ate an apple! You're not getting adequate caloric intake like this—at this rate you'll—"

"I'm not starvin' myself," she argued. Against her will, a memory played through her mind's eye: City Hall's basement, Aaron crouched before her with a bowl of soup, coaxing her to eat even though her stomach felt full of concrete. She fought to keep control but that memory had a dozen more on its heels; together, they swarmed her. "I'm just not hungry! Trus' me, I spent my whole life hungry when I shouldn't be—"

"You should be hungry! If you keep this up you're going to—"

"I don't need a nanny, Donnie!" she burst out vehemently. "I'm a grown woman, not some anorexic tweenager.- If I ain't hungry, I ain't hungry, an' no amount'a shovin' food at me's gonna make me hungry!"- Without another word, she stormed out intent on silencing her memories with manual labor.

"I just don't know what to do, April," Donatello muttered into his palms as she watched him with worry. Beyond the lab's closed blast door, Amber was hard at work in the dojo, waxing the floorboards to mirror brightness on her hands and knees…for the fifth time in as many days. "She hardly eats anything and guzzles coffee like it's water," he ranted harshly. "She barely sleeps, wakes up screaming, then spends the whole day and most of the night cleaning everything in the lair in the least effective ways possible—she intentionally wears herself out every day, then crashes in the early hours, too sore to do anything! She's having panic attacks more and more often and she's been spacing out for hours at time—the other night we found her wandering the sewers barefoot talking to someone who doesn't even exist in this reality!"

He fell silent, choking up. She and Mikey had been washing dishes when someone dropped a glass, and the sound had somehow flipped some hidden switch in her brain. She walked barefoot right through the shards like a zombie and somehow found her way out the front door, muttering the whole way about hungover friends and neurotic dogs. When they finally found her—after following what felt like a mile of bloody footprints—the sight of her adamantly arguing about music with 'Aaron' silenced the long lecture he'd planned. "She's going to kill herself at this rate, April," he confessed weakly, dropping his hands to dangle helplessly between his knees. "…and there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"Donnie," the older woman murmured leaning forward for a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. "You're a brilliant guy and a talented engineer, but you can't just 'fix' people—if someone's broken, you can't reconnect some wires, tighten a lug nut or two, slap on some duct tape and expect them to work again…and if those injuries aren't physical…" She trailed off, avoiding his eyes. "…Broken bones heal quickly once you immobilize them, but there's no way to set a broken soul. It's not your fault."

"You're waxing poetic on me, April," he teased halfheartedly. "I'm not Mikey; you don't have to play down the gritty details." Finally, she met his eyes, her own serious.

"She needs to see a doctor, Donnie…a psychiatrist. I think Amber has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder…and it's only going to get worse."

Just outside the shuttered door, Amber silently slid down the wall and landed in a boneless heap. She wasn't supposed to have heard that conversation, she was sure of it, and she wouldn't have heard it if she'd not come to apologize for taking Donatello's head off earlier. Now her overreaction and subsequent attempt at apology had exposed her to a secret discussion and triggered a plethora of fears. Even as she fought to rationalize away the knowledge, stubbornly scolded herself that PTSD wasn't caused by something as minor as a natural disaster, she knew it would explain so many things.

She'd never been in a war zone, had never seen battle, and had never seen her comrades fall one by one—she was a janitor, not a soldier!—so how could she have developed something even seasoned warriors weren't guaranteed stricken with? She'd insisted her whole life that she wasn't weak, that she could handle ANYTHING given enough time to work through it…yet she was completely broken by something as stupid and meaningless as a storm.

'Am I…' she though disjointedly, tears pricking her eyes behind her glasses. 'No…I am…I really am weak after all.' Without a word she stood, dusted herself off, and wandered out the front door, stopping only to grab a battered flashlight from the kitchen counter. A walk wouldn't fix her intolerable weakness and it wouldn't fix her, but maybe it would at least give her time to think. A line of music echoed down a storm drain from a passing car, reminding her of a time when she didn't feel so lost. 'Where were they going without ever knowing the way?'

Tolkien was right: not all who wander are lost, but she knew she wasn't among them.

Words (Midwestern Twang unless otherwise noted)

- Adding 'er to the end of a word - Means 'her' - Adding 'e, 'is, or 'im to the end of a word - Means he, his, or him. - Adding 'em or 'eir to the end of a word - Means them or their - B'sides - Besides - Di'n't / Din't - Didn't - I'd'a - 'I would have' - Know'er / Judge'er - Know her / Judge her - La-wheezy-anna - This is an awkward pronunciation of "Louisiana" sometimes heard in the Midwest. In the South - or other areas NEAR Louisiana - people generally pronounce it "Loozianna" or "Loo-ee-zee-anna." IRL, I pronounce it "La-wheezy-anna" because it's how I was taught, and it always drives Cold up the wall because he grew up friends with a family FROM Louisianna. At first, it was just a habit; NOW I keep that habit just to annoy my hubby. ;P - Shuddup / Shaddap - Shut up, the first being a common mispronunciation and the second being more of a Southern/Midwestern slang pronunciation. - Tweenager - Slang term for someone just old enough to be a pain, but too young to be considered a teenager; generally such persons are older adolescents. - Worse'n - 'Worse than' - "Dis's ruh-DICK-yulus" - 'This is ridiculous.' A highly twisted version of the Southern Drawl, perhaps from Arkansas. An odd way of defining the difference between the Midwestern Twang and Southern Drawl would be this: 'In the Midwest, we say as much as possible with as few syllables as we can, while in the South, people say as little as possible with as many syllables as they can.' The South tends to stretch words out and add extra syllables to words, while the Midwest tends to crop off syllables and mash words together, and both tend to warp pronunciations of common words. - "Dis ahticle says ova half da people who died in da twista was ig-NOR-in da sirens—any dumb bee-itch who'd go out in weh-da like dat dee-zerves—" - 'This article says over half the people who died in the twister was ignoring the sirens - any dumb bitch who'd go out in weather like that deserves [to die].’ Twisted southern drawl. Unfortunately, there was a LOT of this after the tornado I went through - people would openly blame those who were killed for being careless or for not seeking the 'right' shelter, never considering that they didn't know all the facts OR that the dead person's loved ones might be hearing their ranting. - "If I ain't hungry, I ain't hungry, an' no amount'a shovin' food at me's gonna make me hungry!" - 'If I'm not hungry, I'm not hungry, and no amount of shoving food at me is going to make me hungry!"

A quick rant: Developing PTSD does NOT mean you're weak, broken, worthless, damaged, or any other horrible things we often convince ourselves it means. PTSD is just your brain's way of recovering and adapting, and it's actually a healthy response to trauma. It's not exclusively a 'warrior's illness'—anyone can develop it regardless of whether or not they've been deployed. While it can be hard to accept that you 'got it from' a car accident, witnessing extreme violence, or in Amber's case, weathering a hell of a storm, what caused it has little to do with personal strength or weakness. If you start showing signs of PTSD, TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR. Don't put it off, don't talk yourself out of it, and for Pete's sake, don't do what I did—don't spend months staring out the window, ruminating on why you lived when so many others died, and hoping to waste away into nothing—the longer you wait to seek help, the longer it takes for you to heal, and healing IS possible.

Putting away my soapbox now. Also, the song Amber sings is called "Cotton Fields"—it's a Southern folk song, and if sung in a slow, bluesy manner, it can put kids out like a light

Up Next: Cohabitation Chaos

[20thcentutygeek]

90s Cartoon theme Songs

I grew up in the 90's. By the time my little eyes and ears could comprehend what they were being subjected to, the era of mad animation had already begun. The 1990's were a colourful time, from the acid induced dance music to the sugar and additive-laden neon sweets and drinks. Luckily the animated shows we were given were no different. Accelerating from the successful franchises of the 80's, most of which made money from the toy and merchandise tie-ins, the animation of the 1990's seemed to blast full speed with style, irreverence and a no holds barred approach to the premise of new shows. But no matter which show you loved the most (or simply just watched because you didn't have anything better to do while you eat refreshers and drank panda pop) the first and most resonating taste of a cartoon is its theme. And the 90's gave us some wonderful themes. *Be warned, if you begin looking up some of these themes on youtube it's very likely you will succumb to the endless black hole of intro's. Just as Scott and I did.* The list of catchy choruses, magical melodies and bouncing bass lines are endless. I have a special affinity for theme songs. There is something potent about the tiny snapshot of music purpose-built to set the tone of a show. Each one is like a 30 second score, encompassing the feel, the energy and often the premise of the show to come. Those of you who have stepped foot in Super Shakes will probably have noticed a handful of themes in the shop playlist (In between copious amounts of Seal). So if I took the time to go over every jingle that puts a smile on my face then this would be an incredibly long blog. [Though honourable mentions go to any theme without lyrics such as Doug, Rugrats, Ren and Stimpy; and to superstar composer Danny Elfman] For the purpose of time and sanity I'll instead present to you 3 observations during my time in the infinite back-to-back session of intro videos. So if you are simply a curious party or are in the process of creating your own authentic sounding 90's theme song, keep these in mind. Rule 01: 90's keep it brief Apart from the quality of the animation and the steady decline of muscular He-Men, a new trend also occurred - swifter intros. Just as every comic is somebody's first, the same applies for cartoons with their self contained stories and repeatability. Because of this many 80's shows began with an intro that was in itself a prologue, as is the case of the hilarious and infectious opening to Ulysses 31. [Check it out here - https://youtu.be/OZ4c1X5ene8 ] But once we past the invisible decade barrier, things start to get more straight to the point. Maybe it was because the old style was beginning to feel tired, maybe it was to simply shave an extra minute and a half off the total run time. There is a good chance that it was because as we merged into the era of lunacy and (Ani)maniacs there was no story structure. "Mama had a chicken! Mama had a cow! Dad was proud, and he didn't care how!" Enough said. Rule 02: Ducks have Soul The musicianship behind theme tunes is often passed by. Since most of the themes are over and done with in 30 seconds, a lot of these gems and respective artists don't get to become as recognised as the 30 seconds (or less) of effort that goes in to most modern pop songs. And although there were many thematic changes to soundtracks as time progressed including Guitar riffs getting more fiery and saxophones (unfortunately) dissipating, one trend I did notice was that shows with ducks had a passionate theme that few competed with. Lets begin with Duckula (Which began in the 80's but waddled into the Nine-zero's). Beginning with a dark and spooky backstory and blackened images, all is blasted away once the vocals burst in. I get the impression if the theme was a minute longer we would have some glass shattering vibrato on our hands. At several points there are moments when it is as if the microphone they used cant actually handle the singing. Kudos to the composers for making the very silly premise of this show get glossed over by the energetic theme. From Duck vampires to Duck crusaders, namely DW - Darkwing Duck. This Noire-styled big-billed master of surprise had a hearty theme too. In order to even attempt to replicate the pipes on this performer you have to fill your lungs first. You can just hear the force in their voice as they repeat the title of the show, to the point where when the second verse comes in the whole song seems muted in comparison. But so do many things after you listen to this theme a few times, its hefty. Then in 1996 as if there weren't enough rich vocals and duck centred animations; along comes The Mighty Ducks. Not the rousing live-action family comedy starring a handful of young actors (Including the future Foggy Nelson from Daredevil sporting virtually the same haircut). This is jacked up, colourful, anthropomorphic ducks playing hockey, and the theme is just as mighty. The entire song seems to be shouted and the eager singer can barely get the first sentence finished without adding some vocal flair. The incredible intensity of this theme leaves no doubt about the final statement "Ducks Rock!". This correlation between bombastic birds and soulful songs doesn't end there. A post millennium show Duck Dodgers has a theme performed by none other than world renowned welshman Tom Jones. And if thats not enough, need I mention one of the the most catchy themes of all - a Tale of a rich Duck who famously dives into his vault of Gold coins? I'm sure you can hear it in your head already. [If not click here to develop a tick that makes you "Woo-Oo" impulsively anytime you hear the title of the show - https://youtu.be/9DXo5haNd9M ] Rule 03: Repeat the title as many times as possible It goes without saying that if you want someone to remember your brand, you need them to remember the name. It's quite possible this marketing tactic was discovered in the late 80's. Pick 5 cartoons that ran in the 90's, and sing the theme. (Feel free to do it in your head if you don't want to look like a Freakazoid at the coffee shop). I'd bet that you said the title of the show at least 3 times. Yes it's intended and yes it almost seems silly once highlighted (Try the theme game again with 5 HBO shows; it's very different. I'm betting on 0), but it also puts a recognisable time stamp on our cartoons, a loveable paradigm of silliness. This may have most memorably begun with a group of adolescent-genetically irregular- Japanese covert martial arts practicing-amphibians. Yes Leo, Donnie, Mikey and Raph's unquestionable chant, which although formed in the late 80's ran deep into the hearts, minds, and dreams of 90's kids everywhere. Brought to life by the mastermind of mindless repetition Chuck Lorre (See Two and a Half Men & Big Bang Theory - J-Man), who may have unintentionally begun a more overt tradition for shows created afterwards. Notably Earthworm Jim, W.I.L.D Cats, Hey Arnold and Rocko's Modern Life all follow the formula that shouting the title is key to a good theme. You can see this method working in the Spider-Man cartoon series (Theme co-written by Media Mogul and Power Rangers creator Haim Saban). The words are repeated to the point that the synthesised vocoder chanting goes askew into saying Spider-anything. It's almost as if the singer was exhausted or Joe Perry(Of Aerosmith)'s face melting guitar was tiring them out. I used to think that at one point he was saying Spider-Glider in reference to hobgoblin showing up on screen, but it works for any word you can cram into those syllables. Spider-pamphlet. Spider-burger. Spider-spleen. You get the point. And as if to prove that the musicians and melody makers behind all of these knew what they were doing - See Exhibit B - Bucky O' Hare. The action packed, detailed crammed opening doesn't forget to add the secret sauce; the name Bucky O' Hare is mentioned various times as are most of the other characters. But as we reach the end there is a very self aware moment where after definitely screaming the name several times one vocalist asks the other "Did you say Bucky?" as if they have a quota to fill. Without a beat his colleague replies "I said Bucky." and they both harmonise for a final "Bucky O'Hare!". This not only adds another few name drops to the counter but is a wonderful little giggle at themselves and the absurdity of their job. To sum up, Memory can be measured by recall, recognition and relearning. With the constant barrage of names and vivid images drilled into our heads several times over before we have even seen the show - our capability to recite, recognise and build on our knowledge may explain why 90's shows and their themes were so (literally) unforgettable. - J-Man

(@TheMindofJMan)

[thatcrazyfanfictionwriter]

Secret of the Sewers: Coming Home

Karai awoke slowly, her head feeling like someone had stuffed a poker in between her ears. She sat up slowly rubbing her head as she thought back to the vivid dream she'd had. It was like watching a movie in first person, seeing someone's life pass from their point of view. They were obviously the memories that the girl had forced upon her, ones that belonged to Hamato Yoshi.

Karai sat up as bits of the memories flittered through her skull. Points that clashed heavily with the stories that her father had told her. He had told her that her mother died in the temple fire, but the memories Yoshi had showed her surviving the fire. More than that, she was still pregnant at the time, so it couldn't explain the burns Karai herself had sustained.

Something wasn't right.

"Karai..." Saki's voice called out softly.

Karai looked over to see Saki sitting in a chair by her bed. Though his face was one of concern, Karai's vision flashed to an image of the furious Saki attempting to stab Yoshi with his double bladed gauntlet. Karai visibly flinched at the image, which caused Saki to become concerned.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

Karai honestly didn't know if she was. She felt like her brain was at war, these foreign memories forcing her to question everything she'd been told growing up. Still, she had a feeling her father wouldn’t understand her conflicted feelings, so she just gave a nod. Saki seemed to hesitate for a minute, but backed off a bit.

"That girl will suffer for the rest of her life for what she has done to you..." He swore. "Her, the monsters she clings to as brothers, and Hamato Yoshi."

Once more, images assaulted Karai’s vision. However, these were different from the violent ones associated with Saki. These were of Yoshi with Tang Shen, cherry blossoms, and an image of him holding a baby girl. She rubbed her head a bit, then found a question slipping past her lips.

"Father… How did my mother die?" she asked.

Saki seemed taken aback by the question, turning to Karai curiously.

"You know what happened, Karai." He told her. "She was murdered, left to die in the fire that claimed our home by Yoshi."

Lies. She thought, surprising herself.

"Why do you ask?" Saki questioned.

Karai blinked, then turned away, laying back down.

"It's nothing." she told him. "Forget I said anything."

Saki gave a nod, then pulled the blanket over Karai, running his fingers through her hair.

"Just rest, my daughter." he told her softly. "Regain your strength."

He walked out of the infirmary, leaving Karai to rest. As she heard the door close, she just laid there, her mind drifting to the memories implanted in her skull. They no longer caused her pain, but they still wouldn't leave her be. She needed to know if they were true, and she knew she couldn't ask her father about them.

Sliding out of bed, Karai approached the pile of clothes that had been left out for her. She reached for them, then paused. Her armor was there too, as well as the belt with the tracking devices she'd used to find the turtles the first time. Deciding against them, she just slid on her regular clothes, leaving the armor and belt behind.

"I hope it's not too late to listen to them." Karai prayed.

Knowing the door to the infirmary would most likely be guarded, Karai turned towards a window. Taking a deep breath, she ran towards it, pulling her coat around her for protection.

…

Outside the infirmary, Saki was a ways down the hall from the door before he heard the sound of shattering glass. He quickly turned around and bolted back to the infirmary. As he threw open the infirmary doors, he saw Karai's bed empty, her clothes missing, and a large hole in one of the windows. Saki narrowed his eyes as he picked up the belt still draped over the chair.

"What did that girl do to you…?" he snarled.

He set the belt down as the guards from outside came running in as well.

"Master!" One shouted.

"Where is Mistress Karai?" the other asked.

"Gone." Saki snarled.

"We will send out all available foot soldiers to find her." The first guard declared.

"Don't bother." He spat. "If she doesn't want to be found, you won't find her. I trained her too well."

He turned and walked out of the infirmary, his face a mask of rage.

"Have the entire building on high alert." He ordered. "Just in case she returns with guests."

…

Karai walked down the street, the hood of her coat up over her head in the bright afternoon. As she walked, she soon found herself in the warehouse district, right in front of Renaissance motors. The garage door was wide open, having been torn open from the inside when the turtles had escaped from the assault on their home. The motorcycle that had been left behind had long since been stolen, and there wasn't any sign that the place had ever been occupied.

Looking around, Karai found the hidden trap door, having to move some rubble to get to it. Climbing down, she arrived in the remains of the place the turtles had called home. Looking around the wreckage, Karai felt a twinge of guilt flutter through her stomach. She'd been the one responsible for all the damage caused here, and she'd been the ones to drive the turtles from their home. And yet, even after everything she'd done, they still went to such great lengths to try and convince her that Hamato Yoshi was her true father.

Karai shook her head to clear her thoughts. She wasn't ready to admit that yet. Not until she saw him, talked to him, made sure this wasn't just some elaborate revenge scheme.

Walking out of the small home and into the tunnels, Karai began her search.

"No doubt the turtles have found a new place to live by now." she hypothesized. "And probably as far away from here as possible."

She continued her trek through the sewers, searching the ground and walls for any sign that they'd come this way in the recent days. However, there was very little to go off of in the dim light of the sewers, and they were ninjas after all. She knew better than anyone that if ninjas didn't want to be found, you wouldn't find them no matter how hard you tried. Still, she didn't have any other options, so she kept searching.

…

Leatherhead was stalking through the tunnels, keeping an eye out for any more patrols looking for his friends. Though they hadn't been seen in weeks, he knew better than to assume they were gone for good. His nostrils flared as he took in the smells, trying to pick out anything that didn't belong. That's when he got a good whiff.

It was a combination of leather, sweat, and the sharp smell of antiseptics. Enough to bring that fierce, angry glow to Leatherhead's eyes. He stalked after the smell on all fours, growling as he did.

…

Karai lost track of how long she'd been down in the sewers. Without any light from above, or a watch, she had no way of knowing. Still, she trekked on, unwilling to give up the search. She passed by a tunnel, unaware of the large figure lurking in the darkness. That is, until it let out a low, guttural growl. Karai froze in place as the figure emerged from the darkened tunnel, towering over her at full height. Karai slowly straightened up, turning even slower as they faced Leatherhead in all his terrifying glory.

"I-" Karai swallowed, trying to get some moisture in her suddenly dry mouth. "I don't suppose you could tell me where the turtles-"

Before she even got a chance to finish the sentence, Leatherhead's eyes became bright red as he grabbed her by the throat, hoisting her into the air and shoving her hard into the wall. Karai instinctively tried to pull at Leatherhead's hand, but it did little good.

"You smell… of the helmet men." Leatherhead growled, saliva dripping from his sharp teeth.

Karai gasped for air as she continued struggling.

"I'm not here… to hurt them..."

Leatherhead squeezed tighter, growling even more.

"Then why…?"

"Please…." she wheezed, "I just… want… to talk…. To the turtles"

Leatherhead raised a nonexistent eyebrow, then dropped Karai to the ground. She gratefully filled her lungs once more, coughing a bit as her vision cleared a bit. She didn't have long to recover before Leatherhead grabbed her again, though this time by the collar of her coat.

"If you lie… I eat you." Leatherhead promised.

Karai gulped, honestly questioning the sanity of what she was doing, but by now she'd practically pole vaulted over the point of no return. Without any way to go back, Karai steeled herself and met Leatherhead's eyes.

"It's no trick." She promised. "I just came down here to talk to them."

Leatherhead kept a hand on Karai as he reached into the pocket of the double extra-large leather coat he’d been given by Hisako and pulled out his shell cell.

…

The entire Hamato clan was sitting in the dojo, all six of them meditating after the events of the past few weeks. Even Mikey was doing his best to take it seriously, knowing that they all could use a chance to calm their spirits and relax their minds. As they all meditated, Hisako's shell cell suddenly started blaring.

"We found love in a hopeless place! We found love in a ho~pele~ss place."

Hisako turn beet red as her brothers all cracked smiles. Though none of them opened their eyes, they didn't miss the opportunity to poke fun of their sister.

"Nice ringtone, sis." Raph quipped.

"Three guessed who's calling." Mikey jeered.

"Rihanna's song is good, but I thought you'd go more for Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud." Donny commented.

Hisako just turned redder and redder as her phone continued blaring the same song. She focused on it with her powers, bringing it closer and "accidentally" whacking three out of her four brothers with it. The action brought a small smirk to Splinter's face.

"Oops." She said sarcastically as she answered the phone. "Leatherhead-"

"Knew it!" Mikey cheered.

Hisako smacked the orange turtle before turning back to the call.

"Leatherhead, we're in the middle of meditation." she informed him. "Is everything okay?"

"Oracle… I found someone." he replied, his mistrust and anger obvious in his voice. "Claims she… wants to talk."

Hisako's eyes flew open at that.

"She smells… like the helmet men." He continued. "What do you… want me… to do?"

"Stay where you are." she insisted. "We'll be there soon."

She hung up as everyone turned to her in confusion.

"What's going on Hisako?" Leo asked.

"Leatherhead found someone lurking in the tunnels." She explained. "I think it's Karai."

"Karai?" They all exclaimed.

Hisako nodded.

"Donny, grab your med kit." she told him. "I think we may need it."

The turtles all scattered, grabbing their weapons as Donny ran for the med kit. Splinter watched them go, his heart racing a mile a minute. Hisako looked at him and gave him a hug.

"Don't worry Sensei." she assured him. "We'll be back soon. With Karai."

…

Finding Leatherhead proved to be easier than they thought. He was sitting in the middle on an intersecting tunnel, his claws wrapped tightly around Karai's arm. She was kneeling beside him, doing everything in her power to be still and appear non-hostile.

"Leatherhead!" Hisako called, running forward.

"Oracle." Leatherhead replied, taking Hisako into a one armed hug.

Karai looked over at the turtles, not quite meeting their eyes. With the turtles there, Leatherhead finally released Karai's arm, allowing Donny to take a look.

"Thank you for not eating her big guy." Donny commented as he checked Karai over. "And it looks like you only bruised her."

Karai continued to avoid the turtle's gaze until Leo crouched down in front of her.

"I'm guessing this means you believe me now." He remarked.

Karai glanced up at him for a second, then turned away.

"I'm not saying I believe you just yet." Karai told him, her gaze practically glued on a mildew stain on the wall. "But… I want to see him."

None of them needed to read her mind to know who she meant. However, as expected, Raph had a few choice words to say about that.

"No way!" He snapped. "There's no way we're leading you to our new digs!"

"Look, I know I'm the last person you would ever trust, and after everything I've done I don't blame you, but-"

Her voice cracked a bit as she looked up, her eyes a bit misty as she attempted to fight back tears.

"I need to see him." she practically begged. "Please."

Leo sighed.

"Let's do it guys." he finally spoke.

Raph turned to Leo in shock.

"Bro, did you forget what happened last time?!" He exclaimed. "For all we know she's got another tracker on her and this is all another trap!"

"Raph, look at her." Leo retorted. "Just give her a chance, will you?"

Hisako then stepped forward, pulling a duffel bag off of her shoulder.

"Besides, I think I have a compromise that will make everyone happy." she interrupted.

She pulled out a few things from the bag, ones that made Karai's eyes widen and the turtles all turn red.

"You have got to be kidding." Karai groaned.

"If you want to see Splinter, this is what you have to do."

With no small degree of hesitation, Karai reached for the bag.

…

Leo held Karai's hand as he and the others led her through the tunnels. She had a blindfold over her eyes, but that wasn't the only change. She was now wearing an oversized hoodie that read "I <3 NYC", a pair of black sweatpants, and what looked like an old pair of rain boots. Her old clothes were being disposed of by Leatherhead, just in case she did have a tracker.

"Did you have to take my coat?" she asked. "That was my favorite coat."

"Better safe than sorry." Mikey replied.

Karai just grumbled a bit as they continued onward. Raph then took the time to come alongside Leo and continue to express his doubts.

"I still think this is a bad idea." he quipped. "I don't trust her."

"That's because you don't trust anyone." Leo argued.

"It's true." Donny agreed. "You have serious trust issues."

"Well I happen to be justified in this instance." Raph retorted.

"Raph," Hisako interjected. "Right now, Karai's mind is conflicted, confused. She doesn't know what to believe or what's real."

"And your paranoia isn't gonna help anyone." Leo added.

"Um, you know I can hear you all, right?" Karai asked.

They all look back at her a bit embarrassed.

"We're here." Leo informed.

Hisako got the door as Leo led Karai inside. Once the door was firmly sealed shut behind them, Leo undid her blindfold. Karai blinked, then looked around in amazement.

"Whoa..." she gasped, "Looks like you guys found one hell of a replacement for your old home."

"It's awesome right?" Mikey asked.

"Beyond awesome." Karai agreed.

At that moment, Splinter entered the room. Upon seeing Karai in the room, he dropped his walking stick in shock. Karai heard the clatter and turned on her heels, getting into a defensive stance as if on instinct. When she saw Splinter she paused, slowly straightening up.

"Hamato… Yoshi?" she asked, her voice almost too quiet to hear.

"Miwa…" he said in the exact same tone.

She hesitantly stepped forward, leaving the turtles and Hisako behind.

"Hey guys, why don't we try and get back to meditating." Hisako suggested.

"But we don't have medi-" Mikey started to say before Raph elbowed him in the gut.

"Let's just go." He hissed.

Literally dragging Mikey by his mask, the five left Splinter and Karai alone. She continued to approach him, stopping a few feet away from the rat. She reached out to him for a second, then bent down, grabbing Splinter's walking stick and holding it out for him.

"I-" she began, unsure of what to say. "I saw your memories..."

"I… can imagine it was a lot to take in." Splinter finally said, reclaiming his stick.

"Yes..." Karai admitted.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before she spoke again.

"Were they real?" she asked.

"Every last one of them." Splinter confirmed.

"How can I believe that?" Karai countered. "That wi- I mean… Hisako… she can manipulate people's minds..."

"She can pull memories," Splinter replied. "But she cannot manipulate their content. Everything you saw was genuine and unaltered."

"But how can I know that for sure?"

It was clear that Karai's ability to trust had been shattered, and no mere words could change that. She needed proof.

"Come with me child." He asked.

He walked towards his room, his walking stick clacking against the floor. Karai hesitated for a second, then hurried to catch up to him. They entered the room as Splinter approached a small alcove in the wall. It had what looked like old Christmas lights, as well as some plastic flowers around it and some simple candles.

"I retain very little of my old life," Splinter began picking up a picture. "But this I will never let go… my daughter."

He held out the picture to Karai, allowing her to take it. She looked at the photo, the one of him, Tang Shen, and baby Miwa. She gasped at the sight of the picture, and even though time had faded it someone, she could make out faint scars on the side of Tang Shen's face, ones that were almost identical to the ones Hisako now sported. Karai's hand flew to her mouth as she remembered Saki's accidental blow to her mother, the blood pouring from her face.

"It's real…." she gasped, tears now flowing freely down her face, "It's all real..."

She looked up at Splinter as if she was seeing him for the first time.

"D-dad?"

"... Miwa…"

The two then immediately embraced one another, Karai's fingers grasping onto Splinter's robe as if she was afraid he's slip away. She cried openly, burying her face in his chest as he caressed her hair. She hiccupped and sobbed, unwilling to let him go.

"All this time..." Splinter whispered. "I thought I had lost you..."

They sank to the ground still holding one another, finally reunited after 17 years.

…

Once Karai had dried her tears and let go of Splinter, they went into the kitchen where Splinter prepared some tea. Karai sat at the table, still in a bit of shock.

"I can't believe it." she muttered. "All my life I was trained to curse your name, and now I learn you're my father. My real father."

"It is alright," Splinter reassured. "Saki was feeding you lies. I am just glad we could show you the truth."

"But why?" she questioned. "Why take me from you?"

"Saki believed I had robbed him of many things in life." Splinter answered. "Including your mother. So when he saw we were going to have a child, he saw it as another thing I stole from him. Thus, when I was believed deceased, he took you and raised you as his own."

"And made me believe his altered truths." She grumbled.

Splinter handed her a cup of tea before joining her at the table, pouring himself a cup. She sipped at it, visibly calming down.

"This feels like some sort of dream..." she admitted, "In just one afternoon, my entire life has been thrown for a loop."

"I know all too well what you feel." Splinter told her. "On the night I lost your mother, I didn't know if I could handle everything that was happening around me. Losing Shen, losing you, turning into this. It was almost unbearable."

Karai winced a bit, her knuckles tightening around her cup.

"But, I was able to see past the bad and witness the good." Splinter told her. "I was able to see what I had gained, despite all that I had lost."

About that time, the turtles and Hisako came wandering into the kitchen, pushing and shoving one another in an attempt to reach the fridge.

"I told you already, those Pizza Gyoza leftovers are mine!" Donny exclaimed.

"Fat chance Don!" Mikey challenged.

"If either of you think you can get past me, you're dreaming." Raph retorted.

"I do believe this is a first come, first serve kitchen." Hisako declared. "So we all know they're gonna be mine!"

Karai let out a snort as she watched the four wrestle in an attempt to reach the fridge as Leo just hopped over them all, snagging the bag of gyoza.

"Sorry guys, you snooze, you lose." The blue turtle taunted.

Splinter just shook his head smiling. Hisako then noticed Karai and Splinter, and got a huge grin on her face.

"Guys, Karai is now officially our sister!" she cheered.

"Alright!" Mikey cheered. "Welcome to the family!"

"Glad you finally believe us." Leo told her, giving her a one-armed hug.

"It may take some time to get used to all of this, but we'll be with you every step of the way." Hisako assured her. "They were for me, and they will be for you."

Karai smiled a bit as Mikey got a sly grin on his face.

"So Karai," Mikey said. "I just gotta ask the question we're all thinking about… what was it like kissing your brother?"

Both Leo and Karai turned beet red, Karai nearly spewing her tea. That got Donny and Hisako both chuckling, though Raph just observed what was going on with a blank expression on his face.

"Whoa there." Leo insisted. "Karai and I never kissed."

"Not once!" Karai agreed. "He was extremely careful not to show his face around me. We never even hugged!"

"Uh huh." Mikey replied. "Suuuuurrrreee…"

While they got into that debate, Splinter noticed Raph off to the side, excusing himself from the kitchen. Leaving the rest of his children to continue their conversation, Splinter went after the red turtle catching him as he began wailing on his new punching bag (complete with tinfoil shredder helmet).

"Is something troubling you my son?" He asked.

Raph let off a few punches on the bag as he spoke.

"I'll believe that Karai is our sister." he explained. "I'll believe she's really your long lost daughter, but I just feel like this is far too easy. I mean, it took Hisako months before she called us family, but Karai's willing to drop everything she knew for this?"

He gestured around to their sewer home before going back to punching the bag.

"Try and see the world through her eyes Raphael." Splinter told him. "Would you be willing to stay content with everything you knew when you had the feeling that it wasn't right?"

Raph paused after a punch, mulling that over.

"I guess not." he admitted. "But then again, I tend to attack whatever doesn't feel right."

"Fair enough," Splinter allowed. "All I ask is that you give her a chance. She is still adjusting to this new life and needs steady family and friends."

Raph sighed, then gave a nod.

"Alright Sensei." he relented. "I'll try."

"That is all I ask." Splinter said. "Now go be with your brothers and sisters."

Raph gave a small snort.

"Sisters..." he repeated, "Remember when it was just the five of us?"

With that, he walked back into the kitchen to join his siblings.

…

That night, everyone was curled up in bed, doing their best to sleep after everything that had happened. Since she didn't have a room yet, Karai had taken up residence on the couch, looking down at her new siblings asleep on the large turtle bed. As she finally dozed off, she couldn't help but smile at everything she'd gained.

…

Karai stood on a rooftop overlooking the city. On either side of her were the turtles, Hisako and Splinter as well. Looking at the six of them, Karai's smile was wider than it had probably ever been before. As she stood there, Leo wrapped his arm around her shoulder, smiling as well.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Leo asked.

Looking out at the peaceful night, Karai had never felt more at peace.

"Absolutely beautiful." Karai agreed.

"Enjoy it while you can." A deep, almost demonic voice taunted. "Because it will be the last you will ever see!"

The turtles, Splinter, Hisako, and Karai turned to see Shredder standing on top a water tower. He leapt down onto the ground ready to face his adversaries.

"Shredder!" Leo exclaimed.

"I have come to reclaim what is mine!" Shredder declared.

"You ain't touching her!" Mikey declared stepping in front of Karai, spinning his weapons.

The others all formed a protective circle around Karai, weapons drawn as they prepared for the inevitable fight. Shredder charged at them and leapt into the air. Raph leapt in the air at him with his sai drawn. With all the strength and fury he could muster, he attempted to bring his sai down on Shredder's helmet. The two fell down with a thud before Shredder shoved Raph off him. Donny came running up trying to attack Shredder, but Shredder quickly swept his legs, sending him flying into Raph knocking them both off the edge of the building.

"Raphael!" Karai screamed, running to the edge. "Donatello!"

As she peered over the edge, she was horrified to see the red turtle on the ground, an ever growing puddle of blood forming underneath him. To make the scene even worse, Donatello was next to him, a puddle of his own forming.

"Shredder!" Mikey yelled running at him, angry tears streaming down his face.

Mikey continued swinging his Nunchucks at Shredder, but Shredder was able to block every one of them. Finally, Shredder made a slash at Mikey's throat, causing the orange turtle to fall to the ground. The poor turtle gurgled as Hisako attempted to staunch the bleeding with his mask. It wasn't doing much good.

"Stay with me Mikey." Hisako begged. "Stay with me!"

Enraged, Leo leapt at Shredder swords drawn. Shredder leapt at Leo as well and the two collided in midair. The two landed on opposite ends of the roof… then Leo dropped his swords before collapsing to the ground. By this time, Mikey had gone completely still, having bled out in Hisako's arms. She set him down, then turned on Shredder, fans drawn and eyes glowing bright green.

"You killed them…." she said in a mixture of anger and grief, "You killed them!"

Before she could do anything, Shredder dashed at her and slashed her across the stomach. She let out a choked gasp, then fell to her knees. Looking over at Splinter, her eyes rolled back in her head before she fell flat on her face, just as dead as her brothers.

"NO!" Karai screamed.

Enough was enough. Splinter bolted at Shredder and the two clashed. Equal strikes of Splinter's stick and Shredder's claws were thrown around. Just as the two locked weapons, Splinter wrapped his tail around Shredder's arms and spun him around before tossing him off the edge of the roof. He turned back to Karai smiling, thinking the worst was over.

All of a sudden, Splinter froze up and Karai let out a scream of terror. Splinter looked down to see Shredder's claw coming out of his chest.

"Finally," Shredder said raising him up. "Hamato Yoshi… DIES!"

With that, Shredder tossed Splinter off the roof, much to the terror of Karai. She ran to the side once more as her father's body joined those of Raph and Donny. Her entire body shook as she sobbed, looking over the edge, then back at the roof where Leo, Mikey and Hisako all laid dead. She lost all strength in her body as she fell to the ground, her tears falling like rain. Shredder came up to her, taking her shoulder.

"Come, my daughter." he told her, the demonic face of his mask literally moving as if it was his true face. "It's time for you to come home."

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. However, as he did, his form rippled like water, slowly engulfing Karai's body. She struggled and attempted to pull herself free, but it was like trying to move in quick sand. She sunk deeper and deeper as Shredder's iconic chuckle echoed through her ears, the last thing she heard before getting swallowed all together.

…

Karai sat up, screaming as loud as she could. The turtles and Hisako were all around her, all of them attempting to restrain her so she wouldn't hurt one of them, or herself.

"Karai!" Hisako exclaimed. "Karai it's okay!"

"It's just a nightmare!" Leo assured her.

Karai's struggles died down as she saw all of them alive and well.

"It's alright Karai." Mikey reassured. "We're here."

Karai slowly regained composure as they all released her. By now, her horrified screams had also awoken Splinter as well. He came running from his room, a look of concern on his face.

"Hisak-"

"Not me this time, Sensei." Hisako interrupted.

"It was Karai." Leo informed.

"Kinda different not having Hisako waking us up in the dead of night with nightmares for a change." Mikey commented.

Raph smacked Mikey as hard as he could, glaring at the orange turtle before looking back at Karai.

"You alright?" he asked.

Karai shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"Shredder…. He…. and I…."

She just started crying in earnest as everyone gathered around her, doing everything they could to comfort her.

"He killed you all..." she sobbed, "He killed you… then he dragged me back into the darkness… I don't want to go back… I can't go back..."

"And you won't." Splinter reassured. "I promise."

"We all promise." Hisako added. "Trust me on this. We'll go to hell and back for one another."

"And if Shredder thinks he's gonna get you back without a fight, he's got another thing coming." Raph remarked.

Karai looked up.

"But, last time-"

"Last time, he took us by surprise." Donny interjected. "He caught us when we were emotionally compromised, ill-prepared, and just plain not ready to deal with him."

"This time, we know he's out there." Leo added. "And he's gonna have to fight us on our terms."

"We knew getting you to see the truth would mean having to deal with Shredder." Hisako informed her. "And we're ready for that."

Karai wiped her eyes, then smiled.

"Well then, perhaps we should do it sooner than later." she suggested.

Raph grinned.

"Now you're speaking my language Karai."

"And what language is that Raph?" Mikey asked. "Smash-ese?"

Raph turned to Mikey, then looked at Karai.

"Hey, wanna play a game, Karai?"

"What game?" Karai asked.

"It's called 'Does Mikey Bend That Way'."

Before Mikey had a chance to register what had been said, Raph tackled him to the ground and began wrestling with him. The action got all of them (sans Mikey) laughing hard, a welcome relief from the tense conversation. Karai looked on, her nightmare fading from her thoughts. She wasn't going to let it come true. Not now, not ever.

…

Saki sat in his office, looking at the picture of Karai that sat on his desk. In front of him knelt Hun, who kept his eyes planted firmly on the carpet before him. His master was angrier than Hun had ever seen him, and the slightest misstep could cost the behemoth dearly.

"I'm afraid to say that Karai has yet to return, Master." he explained.

Saki just became even more furious than he already was. His fist tightened and he slammed it on his desk hard enough to crack the wood. Hun visibly flinched as Saki glared at him.

"Get out of my sight." he snapped

Hun simply bowed and left the office. As Hun exited the room, Saki's phone rang. Curious, he answered it.

"Hello?" Saki answered.

"Don't bother tracing this call." Karai's voice answered. "Donatello is good at what he does."

"Karai?" Saki let out shocked. "Where are you?"

"With my real family." She answered.

"Your family is here." Saki insisted. "With me."

"I know the truth." Karai interrupted. "I know what really happened between you and Yoshi. I know that you took me as a final act of revenge against him. I know that you've lied to me my entire life."

Saki just sat there, silent as Karai went off on him.

"If you truly believe that then why call?" Saki asked.

"Because I also know you." she explained. "And I’m positive that you won't stop hunting for us. That's why we're putting an end to this here and now. If you want us, we'll be at the Wolf Hotel at midnight tomorrow night."

"I will be there." He told her. "If for no other reason than to reclaim what is mine… and to finish a fight I started nearly two decades ago."

"I'm not yours." Karai spat. "And one more thing. My name's not Karai. It's Miwa. Hamato Miwa."

With that, the phone call ended abruptly, leaving Saki listening to the low dial tone of his phone. Enraged he tossed the phone against the wall. It shattered on impact. He then looked down at the ground before letting out an angry, spine-chilling howl.

[nagichi-boop]

Mystic Memories (ROTTMNT AU)

Summary: The war with the Krang is over and the brothers try to get their lives back to normality, or as close as they can get to it at least. All seems to be going well until Mikey has a dream where he watches his future self creating a time portal, the very one that had brought Casey Jones to their timeline. What Mikey does not realise, however, is that this is just the beginning of a chain of memories that his future self had sent back to him, his hope being that these memories will help Mikey prevent another disaster from taking his brothers from him.

This AU is set after the ROTTMNT Movie and contains spoilers from it.

Main story chapters list:

Links to the chapters for the fanfic

(Chapter 1) - (Chapter 2) - (Chapter 3) - (Chapter 4) - (Chapter 5) - (Chapter 6) - (Chapter 7) - (Chapter 8) - (Chapter 9) - (Chapter 10) - [x]

References:

Art for the character designs

Nin/F!Mikey (as of chapter 7) Hyena Hems (appears in chapter 10)

Mikey’s Memory Vault: (tag)

Additional memories from Future!Mikey that are not included in the fanfic

How Leo lost his arm (Chapter 3)

Side comics:

Comics that illustrate parts of what happens in the fanfic

(Chapter 2)

[dredgen-nope]

aa,,, internet hug received and appreciated, thank u-- wow it sounds like here and australia have swapped, it was so so rainy today hhj. ooh homemade iced coffee sounds incredible, i cant believe ive never thought to do that before! and fallout oc squad sounds great yes pls tell me!!

i just want it to rain it never rains here anymore,,,,,,,, i’ll probably have to wait for January for rain bc its our cyclone season then,, the news said its suppose to get a bit cooler tomorrow or something i think tho..

i make homemade ice coffee all the time !! my recipe is pretty much just 3 spoons instant coffee, 3 spoons sugar +small amount of hot water to mix, then i stick it in the freezer to cool down, then add milk and sometimes whipped cream or ice cream if i have any,, i used to work as a barista so im really picky about how coffee tastes but the instant i buy is alright haha

YEET OK HERE WE GO lets see,,,, honestly the squad grows bigger every day but my main lads i got are Nico and Rust, then also Mikey, Skye and Emrys. 

Skye’s pretty much just my FO4 oc, she’s the first character I played and she’s a badass wasteland mum that used to live in a vault. She’s literally the mum friend especially for Emrys because they’re a fucking gremlin.

Emrys is my Brotherhood of Steel character, he’s tiny and holds grudges for YEARS. You eat his food one time and think he’s forgotten?? WRONG 5 years down the track he’s got a giant robot and he’s coming for ur ass. He literally joined the BOS because he heard they had big guns and big robots and power armour and he just wants to wreck shit. He’s like a cat and enjoys staring people dead in the eye while pushing things off tables (I have......  a lot of sketches of him being a gremlin lmao)

Mikey is my raider/Nuka-world Overboss character. He’s really lanky and kinda pretty looking but he’s always making an evil face and is phenomenally tall. Literally takes shit from no one if you disrespect him he’ll beat the crap outta you. Most people who don’t know him thinks he looks kinda weak but hoo boy that lad is not to be messed with.

I’m trying to work those three into the story/au I’m writing with Rust and Nico, which is basically like a Mad Max/ Fallout au thingo

I kinda have two versions of Rust; the one I’m playing F04 with and the one I’m writing for the au. He used to be a raider. His left leg is all fucked up from radiation and being shot at. At some point he gets a robot leg instead. He’s super good with machinery and robots and loves collecting junk to make into stuff. Also he loves his car don’t mess with his car. He reluctantly starts looking after Nico after they’re both captured by another raider gang and escape together. He’s always grumpy and has trust issues but eventually comes to look after Nico like a brother.

Nico is my sweet little baby child I love them. They’re absolutely useless at everything and cry easily but!!! It’s ok because they start getting some skills eventually. They don’t remember much about their past other than they worked at a settlement farm at some stage. Turn’s out they were actually a synth/robot this whole time and they have no memory of it (also why they don’t seem to know anything about the wasteland). They look up to Rust and they’re really glad to have him as a friend.