#feliadox

[feliadox]

actually brainrotting this lil guy here, i hope he gets a hug

thank you for relighting the pilot light of my artist soul @goodlucktai , your gio has punched through my burnout

[goodlucktai]

highkey brainrotting your lil guy, ESPECIALLY coloroflite's doodle

neutral timeline and god, gio finding out that a deal is possible at all. leaving a note for mikey, because he was told the price and- for all that he wasn't raised Hamato- sacrifice is in his blood.

mikey getting a bad feeling first, finding the note second, and then.

then you KNOW Hamato Donatello has trackers on Gio at this point.

alarms start going off, the sucker gut punch of Not Again-

and in a frozen moment of time, him watching LEO'S vitals pop back online while Gio's dips

ANYWAYS. HOPE YOU'RE HAVING AN AMAZING DAY!

i've been saving this ask as an excuse to share a little peek into an au that @soldrawss and i refer to as “the yellow door” (aka the wildly self-indulgent neutral timeline fix-it to end all fix-its)

about 2 months after gio went back in time to save leo, neutral!mikey is living on the brink of despair. not sleeping, skipping meals, withdrawing from everyone around him, fully prepared to finally cave under the weight of everything he’s been made to carry alone. he’s always had to be the one who kept the light on but now his little life boat is taking on water. he doesn’t know how to survive this twice

and then a different portal opens for a different gio, and neutral!mikey gets the chance to be a big brother again to a much younger version of that stubborn spotted turtle he misses so much. and he’s taking it. he’s determined to get it right this time. raph and donnie can get on board or get out of the way :) (genuine threat)

and since this is the fix-it au of all time, raph and donnie DO get on board. they finally give into the inevitable and let themselves love that little turtle, the way they always would have in the end. they learn how to be a family again, even with the painful missing piece between them 

eventually they even save leo !! they were lacking in turtle-power before but now their little brother with his ninpo-GPS is there to light the way right to him !! * 

“Hey, you remember your yellow door?” Gio, surprised she knew about that, nodded.  Renet told him that she had once been sent to investigate an explosion of mystic energy that opened windows throughout all of time and space. It was a spectacle that had led her right to the turtles. Right to Mikey.  “That was him,” she explained, smiling at Gio. “He didn’t mean to, but he gave you a way home. Next time you’re lost, keep an eye out, and he might surprise you again. He really is amazing, huh?” –raised on little light, ch.4 

—

Raph can barely take his eyes off of the little turtle in the medbay. The adrenaline has worn off, but the raw shock is sticking. He’s half afraid if he moves too suddenly or speaks too loudly he’ll wake himself up from the dream he’s having. 

He hadn’t forgotten what Leo looked like, but the Leo in his memories was so much larger than life—as big as all his big ideas, outshining the sun when he wanted to—that the reality is like a slap in the face. 

Leo is smaller even than Mikey, which doesn’t make sense at all for the first several minutes after Raph initially thinks it, but it’s true. Mikey has grown up with the rest of them these past ten years, and Leo hasn’t grown at all. He’s still skinny and coltish and sixteen years old. 

This is as big as he was when he died for us, Raph thinks. He’s frozen in his place of vigil at the bedside, his hand enormous where he’s folded it over Leo’s slack fingers. 

Casey and Donnie are managing to coexist without either one of them taking a bite at the other—Casey is their best option when it comes to saving Leo’s life, treating the broken bones and twisted joints and bleeding wounds he came out of the dark with, and Donnie is a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. He wouldn’t do anything to slow Casey down, to get in his way—he has always loved Leo more than he’s ever hated anyone. 

His capacity for love has always been greater than he liked to let people onto, even if Donnie himself has managed to forget that. 

Minutes go by, and Casey’s steady hands finally stop finding places to fly to. The tension begins to ease out of his shoulders, his mouth twists the way Leo’s always did when he was about to cry in front of people and doing his best not to, and when he blinks his eyes are wet and bright. 

“He’ll be okay,” Casey says, like he can’t believe he can really say it. “He’ll—his vitals are strong, his brain activity is normal. He was talking, you said? When you found him?”

Raph starts to answer, and has to clear his throat a few times before he can speak. “Yeah, he said—he made a joke.” 

Took you long enough, Leo had said, smiling while he said it. You have no idea, Raph wants to tell him. When Leo wakes up, Raph’ll tell him. You have no idea. 

“Of course he did,” Casey says, some measure of good humor entering his face, the corner of his mouth ticking up the barest amount. “That’s a good sign. He recognized you, he was coherent. We’ll know for sure once he’s awake. But I think he’ll be okay.”

Donnie takes it as his cue, climbing into the bed on the opposite side Raph is sitting on and curling around his little twin, careful of the IV and the broken arm and the cracked plastron. Like he’s thirteen again instead of pushing thirty. Raph can’t remember the last time they turtle-piled. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Donnie let someone get this close to him without showing his teeth. 

Maybe the night after Mikey self-destructed, Raph thinks. The night he opened portals all across time and space and nearly killed himself doing it, when Raph had to beg him to let go before it was too late for him to let go, and Mikey cried and cried and cried like he’d never stop crying. Donnie had climbed right into their miserable pile and held Mikey like it was exactly what his arms were built for, like he’d never get tired of holding him. 

Mikey, Raph thinks, and it’s like touching a livewire. He sits up straight, and looks around for their youngest—second-youngest, a guilty voice in the back of his mind reminds him. Mikey should be right here next to him. The portal hadn’t seemed to take as much out of him as it had those first two times he tried it, he was on his feet and watching Leo with wide, anxious eyes, his voice the one shouting through the phone for April and Casey to come help please we need you because Mikey has always been the best among all of his siblings at asking for help. 

But he’s not here. 

Raph half-rises from his chair, anxiety thrumming through him with enough force to make him light-headed. Whatever could possibly keep Mikey away from Leo—their Leo!! Alive!!—is something bad. He knows it’s something bad. 

He doesn’t have to look far. On the other side of the infirmary, April and Mikey are hovering over another cot. They’re talking in terse voices, transparently worried, and it sounds like they have someone on speakerphone. Draxum? Raph had thought Mikey wasn’t on speaking terms with the elder yokai. They certainly haven’t been as close as they used to be. 

“Hey,” Casey says, alarm entering his tone as he heads over to join them, “is it Georgie? What happened?”

Georgie? Raph thinks. 

“He and Mikey opened that portal together,” April says grimly. She’s explaining what she’s feeling as best she can. Letting Karai tag along to fight Shredder, however briefly, gave April a secondhand understanding of their family’s mystic power that far surpassed their own. “But Gio—his ninpo is so much bigger than him. It’s like trying to carry the ocean in a bucket. He’s just a baby, it’s too big for him to carry by himself. It’s sloshing over the sides, it’s spilling everywhere.” 

Feeling like the dream has become a nightmare, Raph’s eyes trail past her to the shape in the bed.

Giorgio is tiny for a creature that Raph is entirely intimidated by. He looks even smaller than normal on the cot, chest heaving, breaths raspy and shallow and rabbit-fast. His face is flushed, brow furrowed in pain, and his eyes are fever-bright and confused. His small fist is clutching Mikey’s sleeve, the way someone who was drowning would clutch a life preserver. 

Mikey is glowing, messy shoulder-length hair floating around his face, the black snaking scars on his arms lit up like a flashlight shining through a crack in the door. Raph can’t hear what Draxum is saying, but his tone is steady and exacting, the manner of a teacher walking their student through a trial they know the student is capable of passing. 

Casey gets to work beside Mikey, medicine supplementing the magic as he fits a breathing mask over Gio’s mouth and beak. He has to tighten the straps—the mask isn’t child-sized, it’s almost laughably big, if anything could possibly be laughable now. 

April strokes Gio’s forehead with the pad of her thumb, the same way Raph has a dozen memories of her doing for him when they were children, when he was sick or hurt or having a bad day, the same way she does for all of her little brothers. 

And Mikey doesn’t let up even once. For what feels like hours, his ninpo shines steady and unrelenting and golden, calming the snarling storm inside of Gio with all the patience of a mountain or a star—something that has been here all along and would continue to be here forever, long after everything else is gone—hands that would continue to help and hold until no help was needed, until you could walk on your own. 

And finally, Gio’s breaths start to even out. The pain drains from his face, his eyes slip half-closed. His fist loosens around Mikey’s sleeve but doesn’t let go. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Mikey says, catching Gio’s hand with both of his own, pressing kisses to that tiny palm. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here. Do you feel better?”

Gio blinks up at him wearily and manages to shake his head no. No he doesn’t feel better? No nothing hurts? Raph feels restless with wondering, craning his neck to see as much as he can.

But Mikey seems to understand, the frantic edges of him softening with blanket relief, a fire snuffed out under foam. He slumps where he’s standing, an uncomfortable hunch over the bed, cradling the little hand he’s holding against his cheek.

“That’s good,” he says hoarsely, blinking wetly. “Good boy. My brave little turtle. Do you feel sleepy? Can you get some rest for me? I’m gonna be right here with you. As a matter of fact, I’m gonna have the same dream you’re having, so you’ll see me there, okay? We’ll hang out and do something fun.”

His voice is silly and soft and sweet, the way Splinter’s voice had sounded when he was convincing headstrong children that it was bedtime. Raph remembers dad saying the same thing, that he’d meet them wherever they were dreaming. His heart pangs with homesickness and nostalgia and love that grief couldn’t stomp out after all.

“Sharks?” Gio says hopefully, believing every word out of Mikey’s mouth, asking nicely.

“Nice one,” April says, muscling in to kiss every spot on that forehead. “You hear that, Mikey? You better ante up. My baby wants sharks.”

“Sharks it is,” Mikey says solemnly, and a few discs of light peel away from the sunny spots on his arms, taking the shape of sharks that swim in lazy circles above Gio’s head. He watches them avidly, each blink longer than the last, until he falls asleep.

Like a string was cut, Mikey collapses. He sags into the chair beside the bed and buries his face in his hands. He’s shaking, making awful choking sounds, not letting himself sob the way he wants to because he can’t wake their smallest brother. 

Donnie is stiff, reacting to Mikey’s pain like a sleeper agent the way he has since he was two years old, but physically incapable of letting go of the other half he’s been parted from for an impossible, painful decade. 

Raph makes himself stand up and let go instead. He’s not going far, he reasons with himself. He’s not leaving the room. Nothing has the power to take Leo from them now, not with Donnie of all people standing guard. 

But when Raph crosses the room to his little brother—to both his little brothers—Mikey whips his head up and pins Raph with a look that he would be tempted to call hateful. He hadn’t known Mikey could look like that at anybody. It stops him in his tracks. 

“What do you want?” he bites out. His voice is thick and choked, miserable and angry. 

“Angie,” April says softly, “not now, baby.”

Mikey jerks his head away and doesn’t say anything else. Raph, clearly, should leave it alone. He can’t. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Raph says, wrong-footed, sounding weak to his own ears. 

“You don’t care,” Mikey snarls. The lowered volume does nothing to temper the venom. “You don’t care! If you did you would have been here. You would have helped me. I killed Leo and you hate me for that. You do!” he adds, because Raph is shaking his head, horrified and stricken, bleeding with every word. “You hate me, and you hate Gio because I love him. You do.” 

*this action will have consequences

[skorrvid-aviary]

---🌕---

• FULL MOON DROP •

---🌕---

RULES:

Must be drawn fully colored, full bodied!

Must have a 300 minimum short of your meeting with them!

Must name them!

I'll be spinning a wheel for a winner. If there's just one entry after a day, it will automatically go to them.

---🌕---

WORM MOON CORGLUUME

[restorationhatchery]

I wasn't gonna finish a drawing in time, so writing go BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR- --- I am tired.

Green eyes slowly blink, sluggish and slow, weary from the long day spent and wearier still at the next day to come.

Or rather, day that had already started from what the time brightly displayed from the phone I left to the side.

A yawn cracked open my jaws, deep and enough to have my ears pop. Grunting, a chance a little shift.

The raptor in my lap, a heavier by the day but warm weight gave a small snuffle of protest, but settled with a soft little sigh once a black paw gently ran along his spine. My heart squished for him, a tender ache that I let linger in the dark.

Blinking up from the sleeping scamp in my lap, I quietly check the egg that was to be his younger sibling.

The egg was a fragile one- as eggs tended to be- and more care was needed to be taken with this one than many others I'd had a hand in raising myself.

The tank was a clear box, and kept at a constant temperature. The room itself was dim during the daylight hours, and now properly dark as the sun had set. The only light came from the tank itself, simulating soft light dapples. A quiet room, soundproofed from the rest of the facility to best keep the egg calm and soothed. I still wasn't brave enough to leave it alone, not so close to hatching, but the room itself was also prepared for the event even if I hadn't refused to leave.

Soft mats and towels, the babyproofed room kept warm and cozy. A box with a nest inside, if the baby needed it, and further things that could go in the tank if the baby couldn't rest outside the water at all.

Food, of various things. I wasn't sure what exactly would hatch, after all, and still the little critter in my lap continued to surprise me even now with his wants. (Primarily and happily a carnivore, but more than happy to snack on whatever fruit I currently had in my hand.) But I was determined to be ready, health scanner kept well within reach.

The water ripples as the egg begins to rock. It starts gentle, slow. Each rock far apart, nearly imagined. Slowly, however, they grow closer and closer together. The movements are almost hesitant, but insistent regardless. Nervous, but determined.

Beneath the veil across it, the scales part and crack. A small clawed limb pokes through briefly, then withdraws. There's a long pause, and then it starts again, widening the hole until it's enough for a long, slim body to slide free.

The hatchling is nervous and hesitant looking, curling into the corner of the small tank, eyes staring up at you from beneath its tail.

Despite its nervousness, the hatchling seems to have imprinted on you.

----

What a sweet little girl! A bit nervous looking, to be sure, but I'm sure with some love she'll start to perk up!

[pommigranite]

WAVES EXCITEDLY

i have obi, eros, and ips, u r free to choose owo)/

im a sucker for blue boysss

@tamale4prez

[inokabe-sanctuary]

More Inokabe Lore

Like i've mentioned before, inokabes are descendents of larger, powerful yokai beasts who are now, unfortunately, declared extinct. However, I have an artistic depiction of what one of these creatures would've looked like.

Unlike their modern counterparts, these primal inokabes had no way of absorbing mystic energy, and instead were skilled hunters.

Here is an artistic recreation of the size differences between the ancestor inokabes and their modern descendents (shown next to the average 5ft 5in (170cm) humanoid):

Thank you to the following volunteers for allowing your special babies to pose for my references:

Amnoli -> @sianara7 Arondight -> @feliadox Pooch -> @yoursocialchameleon Agape -> @dangerousgiantlime

[komori-neco-cattery]

I FORGOR HER RIBBON! jewfwbhJWEHBDWJ here u go! may I please take this pretty lady home?

Zephyra loves the ribbon and all the Necos are admiring her new looks. She’s found a new home, Adopted!

[whisp-adopts]

for the snek :D

---

Well. This was unusual.

Now normally when she rested outside in hammock nestled within a tucked away corner of the garden, there were a handful of things she could wake up to.

Hatchlings brought over and tucked around her by parent skorrvids. Fledgings resting upon her. A cold wet nose from any of the canines, or a warm loaf from any of the cats. Ren resting on her head, the wyrms sunning themselves, Eirene tucked into the crook of her neck. Some of her other critter friends resting alongside her, content with the safety here.

That's what she thought of, when her hand sleepily shifted to the weight resting on her belly.

But.

No.

Wrong texture, too big of a coiled loaf. Different, altogether.

It woke her up faster than a shock of cold. Hawk stayed still, slowly opening her eyes to see ..

..a snake of some kind.

She blinked startled eyes at it. It- he?- slow blinked back, and seemingly happily settled back into place.

…Innnnteresting.

"What's your name, little guy?" She murmured, very slowly chancing a scritch. The reptilian creature leaned into it. Encouraged, she was a little more confident in giving gentle attentions much to the creature's seeming delight.

Humming, looking over at her pack laying within reach, Hawk reached over and tugged the zipper to get to the contents inside. With a soft triumphent noise, she pulled a sandwich free. With a little doing, she tugged a piece of meat free to offer it.

"I'll call you Umbra for now," she decided as she watched the creature happily eat. "After you let me up, we can go look for answers." A soft huff of laughter, "Or a translator, if there's one skilled enough to help. How about that little guy?" She gave a gentle scritch over the top of the fluffy head.

Adopted!!! Umbra accepts her name and is happy for the meat and scratches!!! She's a very mischievous and playful noodle and knows how to slip away easily, so have fun with her :D