Hey, sorry if this is intruding or anything, but I couldn’t ever figure out if inimitable is done or just on hiatus? Do you ever plan to go back to it? Everything you write means a lot to me, and you’ll still be one of my favorite writers no matter what the answer is :)
GREAT question. I wish I had a good answer for you.
I’ve sort of reached the point in my life (my 30s) where I’ve accepted the beauty of a lack of an ending. While I haven’t worked on Inimitable for a while now, what with having hopped over the fandom fence into Star Wars territory, I don’t want to close or end it in case that changes, especially with the new movie coming out and all.
I was just wondering the other day how Tats and Co will change in my slightly more developed style. I wonder what will be important to them. I wonder if I will have the interest or ability to write it.
So I’ll leave the series open until I feel totally and truly done with it, which I know can be confusing to readers who see that a fic or series hasn’t been updated in a year and is still marked as incomplete. So my advice to those folks who find that frustrating is to embrace the humanity of your fic writers ❤️
Thanks all, for your understanding!
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Inimitable/Spiderweb snippet
A tiny snippet where F!Leo from my hypothetical au where he’s trapped with four turtle tots that are meant to be replicas of himself and his brothers
Read more here and below vvvvv
Leonardo yawns, attempts to stretch too but is immediately—and abruptly—awakened by the sharp, stinging, burning pain that ruptures through his spine. He closes his eyes tight, silently waiting for the pain to subside before he twists to rise on all fours, bracing the floor. He holds his stomach as he rises on his knees, wincing at the slight burn of straightening his shell.
A small chirp interrupts his painful wake-up call, and he flinches.
The slider looks around, squinting at the bright white lights that reflect off of even whiter walls. Next to him is a white, wooden crib with a white mattress, no pillows or blankets, not even the tiniest toy. The wooden bars of the crib are covered in small divots, all carved into the wood like the work of the tiniest beaver.
Leonardo holds onto a wooden bar and uses it to slowly rise to his feet, careful not to disturb his back. He grunts, closing his eyes as he tries not to focus on the strain of his legs. He must have slept wrong, his legs are screaming for mercy.
When he finally manages to stand on his own two feet, he finally looks into the crib at the four small creatures that are huddled in the farthest corner. Their faces have sleep lines and their shirts wrinkled, they must have had a nice sleep. Maybe the nicest in a while.
The smallest mutant with the teal shirt reaches for him, tiny fingers measuring up to a fraction of his pointer finger.
The teal one chirps happily when his finger makes contact with its palm. Its tail wags happily, aggressively swaying side-to-side and slapping its siblings.
Leonardo chuckles lightly when the small mutant with the pink shirt bites the teal one’s tail. He reaches into the crib and sets his hands flat—palms up—against the mattress next to the children. The teal and lavender ones easily crawl onto his hand, chirping with each other in delight.
The teal one plops onto the pad of his palm before slipping down to his thumb like a slide. Its yellow stripes crinkle when it smiles up at Leonardo, chirps in response when the slider releases small huffs of laughter. Leonardo chirps in response, awkwardly trying to make the sound come out softly. He really needs to get some practice in…
The cream wearing turtle sits down on the middle of Leonardo’s palm, poking the rough skin and scratching at the callouses. It looks up at him with its large eyes narrowed at him, and suddenly headbutts his calluses when Leonardo tries to smile at the little one.
“Okay, rude,” Leonardo points out with a raise of his brow. But he notices the pink one has yet to move from the corner. Its baby teeth are bared like a predator, but limbs partially sunken into its shell.
Before Leonardo can try to persuade the little pink shirt turtle, the teal one lets out a sharp squeal when it falls over onto its back. Leonardo is quick to help the teal one up, using his prosthetic finger as support for the smallest.
The pink one is suddenly on his palm, biting onto his prosthetic finger.
“Hey, that’s not good for your teeth,” Leonardo tries to scold and pull the pink one away until he stops. The pink one’s teeth aren’t wrapped around his finger, but almost grinding down on the metallic material. He raises his prosthetic hand slightly, smiling when the pink one drags along. “Are you teething on my finger?”
Now carrying all turtles in his palms, he lifts them out for the crib and in his lap. He crosses his legs and nestles the back of his hands into the gap as a makeshift play area with palms. But surprisingly, they don’t start playing around or chatting amongst themselves in chirps. They sit where they stood, and look up at him.
“Oh, uh, hello,” Leonardo stutters, unsure of what to do with the tiny eyes that look up to him.
The teal one’s tail doesn’t stop wagging, even as it tries to stay seated. The lavender one notices and crawls over to grab the teal one’s tail and raise it to show off to Leonardo.
“Good job… you…,” Leonardo tries to praise but his voice falters. Speaking to himself, he mumbles, “I doubt Big Mama gave any of you names.”
At the mention of Big Mama, the cream one’s eyes narrow and a tiny rumble begins to reverberate through its chest. Its short tail whips against Leonardo’s palm, and it clicks its beak in growing anger.
“Yeah, me too, little… one,” Leonardo tries to joke but fails to address the cream shirt turtle directly.
The slider sighs and leans his head back. “I can’t keep this up. If I’m going to be stuck here, raising you against my will, we’re going to have to give you all names.”
The lavender one’s head perks up, letting go of the teal one’s tail and sitting down again.
Leonardo stares at each turtle, and each one stares back at him, unblinking. He raises them closer to eye-level, looking them over. “Mikey would know what to name you guys…,” Leonardo mumbles in defeat when he loses the staring contest.
The pink one chirps sharply, making Leonardo flinch. He looks down to see the pink one’s tail impatiently sway side-to-side.
“Okay, Pink, I get it,” Leonardo nods then freezes. ‘Pink’?
He looks at the teal shirt turtle and names it simply, “You’re wearing blue, but it’s not like my blue… so you’ll be Teal.”
Teal’s tail begins to wag again, its happiness unable to be contained. It launches forward, jumping for Leonardo’s face and splats on his forehead.
The slider smiles, “Alright, you’re Teal until I come up with something better, I’m sorry that you’re a color—.” His smile falters then he groans, “Eughh, I owe Dad a huge apology.”
Teal chirps before falling from his face and back into his palms, partially landing on his siblings. The pink one lets out a warning growl, tail whipping with annoyance.
“You’re Pink,” Leonardo names the pink one, then starts naming them down the line. “You’re… you’re not yellow… you’re more of a skin color, almost creamy like a lotion. Cream! You’re Cream, and you are… not purple, that’s my brother. But you are a lighter purple, you’re Lavender.”
Lavender crawls forward and sits before reaching out for Leonardo with tiny hands that grab the air for him. It chirps and smiles, little fingers managing to point at him.
Leonardo raises them closer and is immediately hugged by all four. He damn nearly breaks into tears then and there had he not been holding them to his face.
They trust him. They trust him to hold him close to his face like this, —trust him to talk and smile, —trust him to chirp happily and wag their tails like he’s the best thing to ever enter their lives. And he can only name them after the colors of their shirts.
“I promise I’ll come up with something better, okay? Just wait,” he promises them but they only chirp in response.
Naming turtle tot mutants is hard, no wonder Splinter chose the Renaissance artists /j
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