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Summary
Those who twist destiny’s uncaring hand
Can be rewarded with a second chance
And oh, how a hint of hope can be grand
Reject surrender and take a new stance
Refuse to give in, the dark is your friend
This time, can it be suffering’s true end?. . .
A collection of poems telling the story of Generation Loss
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a faded dandelion in the shattered concrete by kittybeetle
Fandoms: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
10 Oct 2022
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Summary
He’s dying. Leo is dying. Casey’s words from earlier rattle around in his brain, reminding Leo what all this was for. This is for the better, isn’t it? Even with his muddled thoughts and cloudy brain, he was sure that this was for the better (it had to be). He curled his fingers tighter around the family photo, drawing it to his chest as he was blown back through the air (was he crumpling it? you ruin everything, leo). Pain was a distant memory, tears a welcome friend as Leo floated away from his tormentor.
A faded sense of recognition came to him, then. An old lecture Donnie had given, after Mikey had been drawing dandelions on scrap paper with his brand-new crayons. Donnie had, ever the one for positivity, gone on a long-winded rant about how the weeds stole from those around it. “They’re incapable of surviving alone,” he’d said, “they only get by because they sap up all the nutrients that would go to the surrounding plants. Why would you be fond of a weed like that?”
“All the plants around it would be better off without the dandelion.”
. . .
Leo is faced with a difficult question as he dies: is this really for the better?
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Shifting onto his side, Adam turned to glance down over the side of the car to watch his partner-in-crime having a smoke. The way Jonah's breath would dance in the night air was mesmerizing, almost.
He tried not to stare at the way Jonah's lips parted as he exhaled.
"What are you even doing up there?" Jonah questioned, tilting his head back to meet Adam's gaze and tucking his past-dyed hair behind his ear.
Adam swallowed. Jonah’s eyes were beautiful, reflecting the night sky like the world would shine its brightest for him and him alone. Adam wanted to lean down and tell Jonah just how much he loved those little freckles on his cheeks, and how they were like a little night sky themselves. "Stargazing," he said instead. It was safer… easier.
The two of them had been friends for as far back as Adam can remember. He can't ruin that. He can't.
"Oh," Jonah said. "Feeling poetic today, are we?"
. . .
Or, Jonah finally gets sick of Adam being too nervous to confess while they have a quiet moment under the stars.
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“Are you ready, little prince?” Darius muttered softly, his concerned eyes piercing directly into Hunter’s thoughts. He wasn’t ready. He never would be, with the way his heart is pounding in his chest like a bird trapped in a cage. The image of the human’s- Luz’s- face twisting in terror and guilt as she tried desperately to save Hunter from his death before dark, bad, help, please– was burned into his memory. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be going away anytime soon. Hunter couldn’t bear to look into those eyes again. (To see the accusation in them of the way he had fallen for so many lies. Lies that he still wanted to believe. She would be upset with him, wouldn’t she? Were they ever even friends?).
. . .
After being rescued from an end-of-the-world panic attack in the middle of the woods by three coven heads, Hunter finds himself back where all his problems started. Although, admittedly, he doesn't really mind.

