#sweatercrack

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Everyone who interacts with any of my posts who has a rottmnt pfp, I'm following.

[undertale-rottmnt-ask-blog]

Average interaction between the disaster twins

Leo walks into Donnie's lab.

Leo: "What's up D?"

Donnie: "Leo, get out, this is the eighth time you've been in here today without a reason!"

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Something was mentioned about Mikey having low blood sugar?

Correct! Good observation!

In Sweatercrack, Michelangelo has low blood sugar. This came from one line in a scene in an episode of season one where the four were going through the maze. Mikey said something along the lines of "I can feel my blood suggies getting low." Hinting he could possibly have low blood sugar.

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Leo treats the cracks in his plastron the same way he treats his fears: with a smile, a joke, and a whole lot of denial. He doesn’t like to let anyone see how much it weighs on him. Outwardly, he plays the role of the confident, quick-witted leader, acting like the cracks are “no big deal”—just another weird mutation quirk. Inside, though, every pulse of light from his chest feels like a countdown he can’t control.

He wears his iron-knit sweater like armor. It isn’t just about keeping others from seeing the glow; it’s about pretending it isn’t there at all. When his brothers tug or tease at their sweaters, Leo never lets his guard down. His is always tugged straight, sleeves pulled down over his wrists, collar adjusted just so. If even a sliver of light slipped out, he’d cover it with his hand and laugh it off—“Ha, must’ve been the TV.”

But when he’s alone, it’s different. He sits in front of mirrors with the sweater pushed up, staring at the fracture lines across his plastron. Sometimes he presses his fingers against the edges, as though he could hold them together by touch alone. He talks to himself in these moments, voice tight and sarcastic: “Nice work, Leo. World’s greatest leader, held together with duct tape and denial.”

He worries constantly about battle. A blade or claw too close to the crack could end him in ways none of them want to test. So he fights with flair—dodging, flipping, striking with speed rather than strength. His bravado on the battlefield isn’t just style; it’s survival. If he can keep enemies from landing a solid hit, they’ll never find out what’s under the sweater.

Despite it all, Leo shoulders the role of protector harder than ever. He knows his brothers share the same fractures, but he acts like his doesn't matter. He’d rather die keeping them safe than admit how fragile he feels. And the irony is, he hides behind humor so well that only those closest to him, Splinter, and sometimes Donnie when he catches the patchwork job, see the cracks in Leo’s mask as much as in his plastron.

[undertale-rottmnt-ask-blog]

what should my next post be?

My Rottmnt au angst

my Rottmnt au fluff

my Sans au angst

my Sans au fluff

Voting ended onSep 3, 2025

I really wanna do rottmnt angst

[undertale-rottmnt-ask-blog]

To Sweatercrack Donnie:

1. Can I help fix your cracks?

2. Can I hug you?

3. Can I kiss you?

[undertale-rottmnt-ask-blog]

Do you have an oc for ROTTMNT?

Nadina Hamato, second youngest, only girl, Hawksbill Sea turtle. Feel free to ask about her!

[undertale-rottmnt-ask-blog]

Raph’s crack runs jagged across his plastron, right through the thickest part, almost mocking his size and strength. He’s a snapping turtle, built for durability, but the crack reminds him every day that he’s not invincible—that he was made broken. His sweater is a muted, softer red, thick and reinforced so his spikes don’t tear it. The sleeves are snug, but the back is open to accommodate his jagged shell, stitched with loops that tie at the edges to keep it in place.

Unlike Leo, who hides with humor, Raph carries his pain in silence. The sweater feels less like protection and more like a shackle—every time he pulls it on, it’s a reminder that he has to contain himself. He worries constantly about his brothers, that one stray hit could split their cracks open, so he positions himself as their shield, standing in front, taking blows meant for them. He’ll gladly risk his own sweater tearing if it means theirs stay intact.

When it comes to the cracks, Raph doesn’t try to cover his with little inventions like Donnie. He doesn’t trust fixes. He trusts his fists, his body, his role as the tank. But inside, he’s terrified: what if someone lands a hit just right? What if he fails to protect the others and has to watch their hearts bleed out in front of him? He rarely admits it, but the thought keeps him up some nights.

To his brothers, he acts like it doesn’t bother him, brushing it off with gruff jokes, but the truth is—his crack is a constant reminder of how breakable they all are. It makes him cling harder, hug tighter, and fight more viciously when anyone threatens them. His sweater isn’t comfort. It’s armor.