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fandomfangirlfanatic · 17 days ago

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So I completed Whumpay but I completely stopped posting my stuff cuz motivation went down the drain. So we’re back! Here’s my fun lil Tmnt one shot for the prompt “Don’t make me choose”

Leo is forced to make a choice he doesn’t want too, and let’s just say it doesn’t end well..

Tw: Blood, swearing (it’s always Raph), strangulation, held captive

Leonardo woke up with a splitting headache, a sharp pain throbbing behind his forehead. He cracked his eyes open, trying to ground himself.

Where was he?

He tried to move his hands but found out that he couldn’t, realizing that they were tied behind his back. Lovely. He frowned then, flexing his hands into fists, glancing down at himself. He looked unharmed, thankfully, and he was sitting in a metal chair. Presumably, his feet were cuffed to the legs.

How did he get here? The last thing he remembered was being on patrol with his brothers..

Leo’s eyes widened as he looked around, his breath catching in his throat when he saw them. They were all tied to the wall on his right side, wrists cuffed above their heads, the metal chains attached a few feet above them. Donnie was unconscious—or he was pretending to be. Raph looked awake but.. not quite there mentally. Mikey was staring at the floor, still as a board but clearly conscious. Leonardo sucked in a breath at the state of their bodies, how did they get so bad?

They had numerous bruises and scrapes on their skin, some of them were bigger than his own hands. Donnie had a nasty bruise forming on the side of his thigh, Raphael had a (seemingly shallow) gash on his upper arm, and Mikey’s nose was bleeding.

“Leo..?” Mikey’s voice was quiet, soft. “What’s.. what’s going on?”

His eyes snapped to meet the younger turtles, their gazes locking onto each other. Mikey looked scared and he seemed smaller somehow, more withdrawn. Leo was confused, still reeling from waking up confined to a chair.

He looked around, trying to find anything that could give him an answer. Where they were, why he was tied down in the middle of the room, who could’ve possibly taken them. They were clearly in a cell of sorts, maybe a dungeon. It looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place his finger on why..

“I..” he paused. He didn’t know. He didn’t know where they were. He didn’t even know how they got here for crying out loud. All he remembered was walking along the rooftops, then black. He woke up here.

His blood ran cold, if they were where he thought they were..

Almost as soon as he thought it, the metal door across the room creaked open. Through it came Rahzar and Fishface, both of them looking far too smug for Leo’s liking.

Just fucking great.

Rahzar branched off to walk along the perimeter, his nails scratching the wall as he went. He walked until he was out of his sight and Leo turned his gaze to the other mutant. Fishface crossed his arms, one metal foot tapping impatiently while he gave the turtle a sickening grin. Leo pulled at his restraints, his eyes bright with anger. He was going to—

The sound of his brother choking cut him off and he whipped his head around, his eyes searching for the cause. Rahzar was hovering over Donnie, one of his arms raised by his side. His hand was clearly clutching onto something, Leo didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what. He couldn’t see his brother from his seat, but he wasn’t even sure if he wanted too.

“Stop it!” Mikey shouted, fighting against his own restraints. He looked scared, pissed off, his lips pressed together as he tried again, yanking on the metal cuffs with more force than Leo expected. “Let him go!”

Raph was silent next to Mikey, and Leo found that odd. Clearly they had a less.. pleasant experience compared to him if the bruises were anything to go by. Still, seeing his hot headed brother so silent while the youngest was overtaken by enough anger that he was visibly shaking? That was different. It was new.

The choking went on for a few more seconds before Rahzar stepped back, chuckling under his breath. “Someone had to wake you up…”

Leo watched Donnie’s figure slump to the floor (or as far to the floor as he could get) coughing harshly. There were pinpricks of blood on his neck and his face was almost as purple as his mask. He gasped, his body convulsing with every hack he let out. It sounded painful—it looked even worse.

Leo’s blood boiled, but he kept it contained. Anger wouldn’t help him here. He needed to stay calm—they could find a way out of this, they always did.

Fishface cleared his throat, dropping a curled fist from in front of his mouth. Leo’s eyes narrowed at the mutant, once again trying to get out of his own restraints.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here..” he started off, drumming his webbed fingers along his arm. “Of course I’m not going to tell you, but I’m sure you were wondering.”

Rahzar snickered and the stupid fish smirked again. Leo was getting real sick of that smirk.

“Leonardo,” Fishface drew out his name, the smirk morphing into a sadistic grin. “You have a decision to make.”

His eyes narrowed. “And what decision what that be?” He snapped, trying to force his tone into neutrality.

“Pick one of your brothers.” He stated simply.

Leo’s face paled, pick—? Why? What were they going to do?

“And why would I do that?” He said snarkily, raising a non existent eyebrow. The fish seemed to light up at the question, like he had been praying that Leo would ask.

“If you don’t choose, we do.”

Rahzar laughed again from where he was standing next to the wall. “Trust me, you don’t want us to choose.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Leo demanded, looking back over to his brothers. Donnie was still slumped, sucking in quiet breaths as he recovered from the sudden strangulation. Raph was glaring daggers at the two mutants, his hands balled into fists within the cuffs. Mikey was biting his lip and his eyes were going everywhere, scanning everything. How could Leo choose?

“Ah, now that takes the fun out of the game, doesn’t it?” Fishface drawled, slowly walking towards Leo.

“And what fucking game would that be?” Raph snapped, Leo felt a spark of hope at the outburst. That was the Raph he knew. “You sick fucks, what the fuck is your problem?”

Fishface turned to glare at Raphael. “You better shut your mouth before we shut it for you.”

Leo watched the flicker of fear in Raphs eyes come alive before it was extinguished, hardening as a low snarl fell from his mouth. The mutant seemed happy enough with that response and continued to walk up to Leo. He kept his mouth shut as the fish circled his chair, running a finger over the back. “Pick a brother, turtle. And choose wisely. You can’t take back your decision.”

Leo’s hands spasmed as he pressed his lips together. He couldn’t choose. Why were they making him do this?

“Why me?” He asked, turning to look at Xever after he finished loop the chair.

”Isn’t it obvious?” The fish hummed softly. “You’re their leader.”

Leo’s anger faltered for a second, if he made a decision.. whoever he chose would never forget it. “What if I say no? What if I say myself?”

Rahzar stepped forward with a grin, cracking his knuckles loudly. “Every time you say no, one of them ends up hurt.”

Fishface gave Leo a small shrug, leaning into his face. “It’s simple. Pick. A. Brother.”

Leo leaned his head back, fighting the urge to spit in his face. “I pick me.” He said harshly.

The next thing he knew, his head was flying to the side and a burst of pain exploded in his jaw. He opened his mouth, stretching it as the sensation dulled to a soft ache, looking back at Fishface. He was eerily calm, his left fist balled by his side. “Choose. Properly this time.”

Raph apparently didn’t give a shit about being quiet anymore and piped up from where he was. “Pick me, Leo. I can handle whatever they throw at me.”

He could see the hot heads smile, the feral look in his eyes. Leo almost said yes, but something stopped him. What if this was some reverse psychology? What if they wanted him to think the brother would be hurt, when really he’d be the one spared? What if this was some psychological warfare, trying to figure out who he cared about the least? (That was an impossible question, he loved all his brothers for different reasons. He’d never put one over the other in a situation like this. Not willingly.)

“Let me do it,” Mikey piped up, his voice was steadier than Leo felt. He turned to look at the youngest, and Mikey gave him a confident smile. “I’ve got this, bro.”

Across the room, Rahzar laughed. (Leo was really getting tired of this—having to look between the two mutants and his brothers. Couldn’t they just stand together so he could stop giving himself whiplash?)

“Look at that, even the small one is volunteering.” Mikey protested, letting out a loud—“Hey!”—but Rahzar kept going. “But the taller one… well, he hasn’t said a word, has he?” The look on Rahzars face made Leo nervous, and he almost didn’t want to look at Donnie. What if his vocal cords were crushed and this was Rahzars fucked up way of telling him?

He looked anyway (obviously) and scanned Donnie’s body just to be sure there was no life threatening or permanent injuries.

“Leave him alone,” Raph growled, leaning forward as far as the cuffs would allow. “You do anything to him and I’ll rip out your neck with my bare teeth.”

Leo wouldn’t say it to his face, but he was feeling very proud of his brother right now. Unfortunately, they were still the hostages, so saying things like that never went well.

The dog had walked over in an instant, punching Raph across the face before he followed up with a jab to the stomach. Raph let out a gasp, wincing briefly, unable to protect himself. Next to him Mikey was yelling in protest, once again trying desperately to get out of the restraints. Rahzar growled as he struck again, punching him four more times for good measure.

“You think you’re in any place to make demands?” He barked out, stepping back from Raph’s wheezing form. “We’re in charge here, now stop playing coy—“ he turned to Leo as he said this, stepping over to grab Donnie’s neck once again. Donnie’s eyes snapped open with terror and Leo wanted to scream. “—and chose a brother.”

Leo’s mouth dropped open, stuttering for a second before Rahzars fist tightened. He could hear Mikey’s yelling, Raph’s angry wheezing, but all he could think was don’t make me choose. Please don’t make me choose.

The longer he sat there the more Donnie lost oxygen, but he couldn’t pick. Rahzar had specifically moved so that Leo could see his brother and he almost didn’t want too. Donnie’s eyes were watering and his fingers were holding onto the metal cuffs like that would save him from death. He was throwing out weak kicks, trying to fight off the mutant as best as he could while his neck was rapidly being crushed. He was fighting for his life. Leo could end this right now if he just made a decision, he just needed to choose one.

He spoke without thinking.

“Raph!” He screamed, and immediately he felt sick to his stomach. “I pick Raph.”

The second it left his mouth Rahzar let go, smiling brightly. “See?” He locked eyes with the blue banded turtle, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Leo sat there in shock from his own words. He looked at Raph—expecting anger or betrayal, but he didn’t see any of that. If anything he looked resigned, like he knew this would happen. Somehow that hurt worse than if he hadn’t known. He tried to say anything, ‘I’m sorry’ or maybe ‘I panicked’, but he didn’t get the chance. Rahzar walked over, stopping in front of the turtle of choice. Leo waited with bated breath, was he going to hurt him, let him go—

He wasn’t expecting him to walk away, and he definitely wasn’t expecting him to reach up and release Mikey’s chains. The second he realized what was happening he started to thrash, his world felt like it was crumbling around him and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“What’re you doing—“ he near shrieked, “I picked Raph! You said to choose, and I choose him! Why—“

The sound of Fishface laughing filled the room like a poisonous gas, silencing him in seconds. The fish shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “Did you really think we’d let you pick?” He snorted, looking at Rahzar with a dark gleam in his eye. “We knew from the start that we were taking the orange one.”

With that, Rahzar pulled Mikey off the wall, dragging him without a care in the world. Mikey’s eyes were wide and Leo was screaming, vaguely he could hear Raph swearing, hurling insults left and right. It was a cacophony of sounds, yet Donnie was completely silent.

Leo’s eyes were wide with desperation, locking onto Mikey’s one last time. “It’ll be okay Mike,” he said softly, trying not to choke on his words. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was reassuring his brother or himself. Probably both. Mikey nodded solemnly, a determined look in his eyes. Leo opened his mouth to say something else, probably ‘I love you’—

The door shut with a loud bang, cutting him off before he even had a chance to speak.

As always, you can find this on ao3!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65759863

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 21 days ago

Note

11 "Don't you dare die on me." Leo to Raph for 03

hurt/comfort drabble prompt ask!

Thank you for the ask, my friend! Hope you like it! sainw timeline, hurt raph and leo, 1.2k words.

----

The blue-hilted katana cleanly swipes the head off a Karai Legion bot, when Leo hears Raph scream.

Instinctually, he turns, mouth already forming his brother's name, and abandons the position assigned to him by Angel.

'Leonardo!' The voice in his ear yells. 'Stick to the plan! We still have at least seven hostiles in this area before the all-clear! Do not abandon protocol! I repeat, do not abandon—'

Leo takes the comm out and crushes it between his fingers, leaping off a destroyed Foot tank, and running towards the building Raph had gone into. They were already down to Plan E for their mission today—what’s one more disaster? He’ll apologize to Angel later.

Right now, his primary concern is Raph, whose pained voice echoes between the walls of the building that—well. That's catching on fire really quickly. Leo pulls the collar of his coat to cover his nose and mouth, as he runs in.

"Raph!" He yells out. "Raphael!"

"Leo?" A questioning tone from a muffled voice. Then, "Leo! What the shell, get out of here!"

He tracks the voice. It's coming from the back room, and the closed door is barricaded by burning planks of wood, nearly invisible in the smoke.

Leo tries to think quickly, pulling up the mental blueprint of this storage unit. The back room doesn't have a window, or even a proper vent. There's no way to get through, unless...

Raph's hacking coughs reach his ears, and they sound painful. Leo tenses.

He looks at the flames, wild and untamed, and hungry to burn innocence into ash. And he thinks about what he's going to do.

There’s a voice in his head—once quiet and unassuming—now screaming, pleading for him to stop. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in fifteen years, one he’s spent every day trying not to forget. One that wouldn't forgive him if he hurt himself while saving someone else.

But war doesn’t leave room for that—not for promises from a past life, not for thoughts of gentle smiles and gifted hands, and not for the purple-tinged piece of his heart, lost forever in an unnamed abyss.

Leo grits his teeth, old grief adding fuel to the fire burning within him, and no flame on Earth could ever compare to that. He takes a quick breath and lunges for the door.

'Don't you dare die on me,' he thinks, as painful burns slash against his legs and arms, but they stop mattering when Raph finally stops coughing. 'Don't you dare, Raphael. Not you. Not you too.'

Leo finally breaks open the door, his throat burning, and collapses to his knees.

"Raph." He chokes out, crawling towards the figure slumped against the wall. "Raphael."

He's barely breathing, and no amount of shaking will wake him up. The smoke must've knocked him out, and if they don't get out of there soon, they'll both be dead.

Leo takes off the tattered remains of his coat, and covers Raph with it.

He gulps. Here comes the hardest part.

Back then, when the Foot Clan had just begun his conquest of Earth, and Leo still had some hope left—hope that they could defeat the Shredder, hope that thousands of lives wouldn't be lost to totalitarian brutality, hope that they they could still be a family, no matter how broken—Leo used to pray to their ancestors. For guidance, maybe for some support. Maybe just so he could feel like there was someone who he believed in, who believed in him as well, when everything else was going to hell. That was a long, long time ago.

Now, he doesn't pray before doing hard things. He just thinks of Donatello.

Leo lets himself imagine, as he carries Raph on his shoulders and stands up on shaking legs, that Donny is right outside the building, waiting for his brothers to return to him safely, ready to lecture them about the dangers of smoke inhalation, and yell at them about how they're both two sides of the same reckless, adrenaline-chasing, downright stupid coin, and need to be grounded by their sensei.

He forces his way through the escape he carved out in the burning wreckage, and his mind drifts to all the times Donny tried to mediate the fights between Raph and Leo, always reminding them how much they loved each other. How they didn’t mean the cruel things they said when tempers ran high.

Leo doesn’t even know how many unforgivable things he’s thrown at Raph by now. Yet he remembers every single one Raph’s said to him.

They finally reach the open ground, just as the building completely collapses, and Leo frantically thinks about how the hell he's going to fend off the Karai Legion with an injured and heavy brother on his back—

—when he sees that all the bots have been demolished, and there stands the lieutenant of the Resistance, Michelangelo.

His chest heaves, blood and sweat upon his brow, and an oil-slicked nunchuck in his hand. And at the sight of them, he immediately pockets it, catching Leo as he falls.

"What the shell." The panic is barely hidden in his gravelly voice. "Is he—"

"Alive, but he needs the med-bay." Leo gasps out. Something in his chest hurts. "And maybe I do too, actually.”

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Leo!" Mikey exclaims, staring at him, and that's when Leo's brain finally registers the pain from his very big and severe burns all over his body.

"You jumped straight into the fire, didn't you?” He accuses, angry. “You didn't even wait for backup, or—or, tried to find a way to put out the fire—"

"No time." Leo slurs, suddenly exhausted to the bone. “Had to save ‘im. No time.”

He lists to the side, making Mikey take more of his and Raph's combined weight. But no, that's wrong, that's the opposite of how it should be. Mikey’s the baby. He’s not supposed to carry any of this. Leo should. Raph should. Donny should—

He hears yells, and Mikey's urgent answer, but he's too tired to try to respond. The scent of burnt wool and silk and flesh is getting to him, and they all need to move before more bots come to finish them off, and everything hurts like hell, and there is so much left to do…

But hey, what better way to escape your problems than to vanish right when you're needed most, right? Donny figured that out years ago, the genius he was. So Leo follows in his example, and passes out.

When he finally wakes up, he's lying on a cot in the Resistance med-bay, and a singular candle lights up the whole dark room, full of injured troops. And he feels a hand gripping his own, fingers intertwined.

"Leo?" A hoarse voice asks.

Leo turns. Raph's on a cot right next to him, legs and arms covered in bandages, his mask with the stitched-up eyehole gone. He blinks lethargically.

Maybe there's a script Leo should borrow his words from right now. Something hopeful and cheesy, like a call-to-action that would invigorate a crowd of restless soldiers and prove the fight isn’t over. But the only thing that comes to mind is, "Thanks."

Raph blinks again, like he's not sure if he heard Leo right. "...Shouldn't I be thankin' you?"

"Thanks for staying alive, I meant." He whispers. "I told you not to die. You didn't."

A soft look passes his brother's features, remarkably vulnerable for a guy that scoffs in the face of a smile, nowadays.

"What good is a sword without his shield, right?" Raph answers, tightly squeezing their conjoined hands. "Couldn't leave you hanging."

Leo smiles, and squeezes back.

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 1 month ago

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So I know it’s a cartoon and it follows cartoon logic, you know, money isn’t an important factor cuz they’re in a cartoon. But I was thinking…

What if money was a factor? What if there were times Donnie needed some sort of chemical or part that he couldn’t get because they didn’t have money?

And it led me here. This is based off the Whumpay prompt “financial trouble” and it’s my take on the turtles and their money issues.

Tw: Leo post shredder in season 2, swearing (it’s not Raph), and talking about financial struggles

The turtles never needed money. They had algae, worms, they robbed junk yards and found discarded tools, toasters, furniture. They took each item home one by one and Donatello would fix it up, good as new.

They never needed money.

They never needed money.. until they went to the surface for the first time and tried pizza. Obviously, they couldn’t steal it. Or rather- they didn’t want to. They had to start scavenging, picking up spare bills and coins. Sometimes they got lucky. Sometimes they didn’t.

If they didn’t have money it wasn’t the end of the world. April would lend a hand, Casey would pitch in a few bucks. Enough to satiate their pizza cravings. That’s all they needed the money for- food.

That’s what they thought anyways.

Oh.. how wrong they were.

The injuries started piling up first. Gashes that needed stitches, a fracture that required a proper cast and crutch, poison that needed a store bought antidote. When it wasn’t a wound, it was a rare chemical Donnie didn’t currently have in his possession. Something that could only be ordered online. A key ingredient for the retro mutagen, an alkali metal he was steadily running out of, acids and bases that couldn’t be found in a scrap yard.

Donnie was the first to recognize their financial trouble. When they returned from dimension x, the invasion ready to go at any minute, he realized that they didn’t have enough money. Donnie was missing key parts for his mech- it could work without them, obviously, but they were necessary for 100% guaranteed functionality. The machinery was rare, the kind of stuff that cost thousands, and they didn’t have any money.

That was the first time Donnie realized how reliant he was on these parts and chemicals. He tried to brush past it, convincing himself that it would be fine. He didn’t really need those specific parts- it would work fine without them, right?

In hindsight, he definitely did. (Not that it matted anyway.)

As he sat in the van with Raph and Mikey, staring down at Leo’s comatose body, he was a wreck. His brain was going a million miles a minute, running through everything that had gone wrong. Every decision. All the mistakes. The argument. The mech. Shredder. Splinter. The domino pieces seemed to fall perfectly into place, sending them hurtling into failure. But why? Why did this happen?

Deep down, Donnie knew the root of it all was the money.

He didn’t have enough money to properly build the mech, therefore they couldn’t stop the invasion, leading Leo to where he is now. Injured, unconscious, a cracked shell that Donnie couldn’t fix because he didn’t have the necessary equipment, because he didn’t have the money.

Donnie took a good look at his brothers body, scanning over the broken and battered flesh. Leo’s face was scratched up and red from the glass, his beak was covered in dried up blood and he was sporting a nasty black eye. His neck was already covered in colourful bruises, small pinpricks of blood dried in various places across the green skin. His arms had about a dozen cuts and gashes each, some of them were still bleeding, sluggishly, a small puddle forming below the wounds. Donnie had wrapped the bad ones; three shirts had been dismembered in the process. Leo’s plastron was scratched to all hell, but thankfully there weren’t any chips. The one mercy it seemed he had been granted.

Leo’s legs were mostly unscathed- a mural of their own scratches and bruises. Donnie wished that was all, really he did, but he couldn’t ignore the broken leg glaring at him, stabilized with a pink T-shirt and his broken Bo staff. It frustrated him that a t-shirt was all they had, yet another glaring example of why they needed money. He tried to move past it, but he could still hear the sickening crunch of bones forcing themselves back into place. He could feel them shifting under his hands as he wrapped the joint. Mikey and April had to cover their ears, closing their eyes while they huddled up together. Leo had let out a weak groan soaked with pain, even Raph had to turn away, staring off into the distance with blank eyes. The injury would take a long time to heal. Months, maybe even years. A part of him hoped Leo would stay out for the worst of it- another part of him hoped Leo would wake up once they put a cast on.

Donnie couldn’t look at Leo’s shell from his position on the floor, but he remembered it clear as day. He was already cringing at the mental imagery, his hands clenching into fists. His shell had been.. bad. Very bad. It was scuffed and black, scratched and scraped in every direction. There was a point directly in the centre where a spiderweb of cracks fanned out like some fucked up art piece. Donnie was thankful that it wasn’t completely shattered, but that didn’t negate how awful it was. He hoped- prayed that they’d heal, but he wasn’t sure. For once, he didn’t know.

He hated it.

Donnie put his head into his hands, trying to fight back the choir of voices telling him it was all his fault. Over to the side he could hear Raph and Mikey comforting each other, or rather, Raph comforting Mikey. He secretly wished they’d shut up. He wished that they knew how awful their situation was, how it could’ve been- no, how it could be so much better, if only Donnie had access to the proper equipment. The necessary equipment.

Donnie had always built what they needed, it was what they could count on. The centrifuge had been a rare piece of tech he couldn’t recreate, and they had been lucky enough to find it in the rubble of TCRI. They were always lucky enough to find things you couldn’t find it in the city junkyard. But they couldn’t rely on luck. They needed stability.

Their father was dead. Leo was in a coma. New York has been taken over by the kraang. The population had been turned into all sorts of mutants, soon to be enslaved- or worse, slaughtered. Donnie had failed them.

He failed his father.

He failed his brother.

He failed his family.

He failed everyone.

He blinked back the tears, sniffing and wiping his eyes. Hopefully it looked like grief over Leo’s condition, which it partly was, but really it was the debilitating guilt eating him from the inside out.

This was all his fault. He should move prevented this- somehow. They needed money, and he should’ve been able to provide it (logically he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t get a job. He couldn’t steal from a bank. He couldn’t drain April or Casey of their own savings. He couldn’t do anything.)

(He still felt guilty.)

As the weight started to settle in, he became numb. Leo was the older brother, the “responsible” one, but Donnie was the one who kept everything running. He needed to figure out a plan, had to learn how to navigate this lifestyle with the lack of an income. He needed to improve his engineering skills, brush up on his first aid. He needed to learn how to make the most top notch, complex machinery from scraps and rubble. He needed to be better.

They didn’t have money, but they had him. And he was going to fix this. Whatever it takes.

You can also find this on ao3 <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65724790

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 1 month ago

Text

So, I saw the Whumpay prompt “Allergic Reaction” and it hit a little too close to home

I recently found out that I’m allergic to heart of palm, or palm tree innards. (.. I don’t get it either.) I can say with my full chest it was hands down one of the worst experiences ever

It was my first ever allergic reaction and I didn’t realize until mid way through that I was having an allergic reaction. I was at my friends house and there were no adults, no EpiPens, nuthin. I was lucky enough to be with my one friend who has allergies, and I’m thankful to this day that I got every symptom but the anaphylaxis

However

Because I’m built different and that shit was traumatic, I decided to project pieces of my lovely experience onto Mikey

I am not a medical professional even if I am certified in first aid, this is mostly based off my own experience (plus asphyxiation cuz yk, ✨drama✨) and the assumption that if Donnie can whip up a cure for Fishface’s venom just based on symptoms, he can absolutely make an EpiPen from scratch

Tw: Asphyxiation, needles, swearing (it’s not just Raph for once!)

Everyone was freaking out.

April and Casey had been over for movie night, their bi-weekly tradition. After all they went through with the Super Shredder, everyone was excited to do something normal for once. Casey had obviously brought pizza, but April brought something else. Two bowls of homemade guacamole and 2 bags of tortilla chips. The turtles had been stoked- it was something new! Mikey especially was excited, taking a bowl for himself before anyone could stop him.

They were five minutes into the movie when the wheezing started. At first, Mikey had just brushed it off, saying his throat was just a bit tingly. He kept munching on the guacamole and chips, smiling at anyone who asked if he was okay.

They were six minutes into the movie when Mikey said that one sentence. The calm before the storm.

“Guys.. I don’t- I don’t feel so good..”

Donnie looked over then, a frown already forming on his face. Once he saw the state his little brother was in, his eyes snapped open and he stood up, letting out a yell. Mikey was wheezing, worse now. He was sweaty, his face had gone pale and his hands were clutching his stomach. It took seconds before everyone else realized what was going on, and just like that, the lair was overtaken with complete pandemonium.

“Mikey-?”

“Jesus fuck-“

“Holy shit little bro-“

Leo and Donnie were silent but the first to react. Leo rushed over to Mikey, putting a hand on his head. “Donnie, he’s burning up.” He called, frowning at his younger brother. “You okay Mike?”

Mikey was wheezing, but he managed a thumbs up. “I’m-“ he coughed, his chest seizing for a second. “I’m.. o-kay.” Leo’s eyes narrowed, obviously he wasn’t okay, he could barely talk! Not to mention his eyes were getting droopy, and his face was starting to swell.

“He’s in anaphylactic shock,” Donnie had muttered, and the realization that they didn’t have any epipens hit him like a truck. “I need epinephrine, sodium chloride, sodium metabisulfite, hydrochloric acid-“

“English, genius!” Raph had snapped, taking a place next to Leo. His eyes didn’t leave Mikey and his hand hovering over his shoulders like he was scared to touch him.

“He’s having an allergic reaction!” Donnie snapped, “his throat is closing up, we don’t have any EpiPens-” he didn’t want to leave his brother but Mikey needed an EpiPen. Donnie had the ingredients, he just needed to make it.

“Make sure he keeps breathing, if he stops- and I mean even for a second, you come get me, got it?” Donnie waited for their nods before he turned around, gesturing for April to follow him as he sprinted to the lab. He could hear their shouts of confusion, but he tuned it out, he needed to make this EpiPen and he needed to make it fast.

”You need to find me the sodium chloride and water, I know where everything else is-“

April paused in the doorway, her eyes widening in realization. “You’re making an EpiPen?”

Donnie didn’t stop looking for the ingredients, grabbing the hydrochloric acid before he turned around to face her. “It’s our only option, now please go get me some water.”

Her eyes set in determination, already rushing out the door.

Back in the living room, Leo had no idea what to do. How was he supposed to keep him breathing if his throat was closing up? What did Donnie expect him to do- stick a straw down his throat!?

“Leo, he’s barely breathing.” Raph snapped, looking at his older brother.

“Don’t you think I know that?” He snapped back.

Behind them, Casey stood still, his eyes locked onto Mikey.

“Stop snapping at each other, it’ll make everything worse.” He said, looking surprisingly calm. Leo and Raph were both offended, but Casey’s gaze didn’t leave Mikey. “I can call my mom, she always has a spare EpiPen for Harley- just in case.” His voice was questioning, but he was already pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, do that.” Leo said absentmindedly, still kind of offended. Raph had moved past it to borderline freaking out (way to listen, Raph) and Mikey somehow looked worse than he did a minute ago. Now his face was puffed up and swollen, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“L- eo” he choked out, gasping. “I- I can’t.. I-“ his eyes were wide with fear and his hands were scrubbing at his chest. “…br-eathe.. can’t- breathe.”

Leo’s chest tightened. “I know Mikey,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. His eyes were sad and he balled his hand into fists, trying to rub comforting circles into his shoulder with the other. “It’s gonna be okay, Donnie’s going to fix this- just, just hang in there, okay?”

He hated how useless he felt- he couldn’t do anything and he hated it. He was supposed to protect his brothers, but how could he protect them from this? None of them were prepared! No one could’ve guessed this would happen.

Raph was sitting next to him, covering his mouth with one hand while the other rested on Mikey’s shoulder. For once, the red turtle looked like he might cry.

Casey was still standing behind them, holding the phone up to his ear while he spoke in a hushed voice. Out of the corner of his eye Leo could see April rifling through their kitchen cabinets, pulling out- was that salt!? Whatever- he didn’t put too much thought into it, his knows what she needed it for. Fucking hell- where was Donnie?

Back in the lab Donnie was frantically mixing up his own epi pen. Multiple actually. He had four different syringes lined up and waiting, he just needed to add the sodium chloride and water so the mixture would be diluted and safe for injection. His hands were almost shaking as April ran in, passing him the cup and salt. He stuck his tongue out as he measured out and added the last two ingredients. He knew that every second in here was another second of Mikey’s suffering. Finally, he had the homemade solution ready to go. He carefully poured it into all four syringes, taking his time with this- he couldn’t afford to spill anything. The second he was done he dropped the test tube, grabbed the needles and sprinted out of the lab, April following close behind.

“Is he okay?” Donnie called, running towards them. He scanned over Leo’s worried face and Raphs blank one, almost dropping the needles. He was next to them in seconds.

“April- hold these, I don’t know how many I’ll need.” He gave April three of the needles, holding one up to tap out all of the air bubbles. He took a second to calm himself down in the process, taking deep breaths as he forced his hands to stop shaking. The nerves really weren’t helping anything.

“Ok Mike, it’s gonna be okay.” He said softly, grabbing one of his arms. Leo held the appendage steady for him as he lined up the needle, and Donnie gave his older brother a tight smile. He slowly pierced the skin, letting the needle sink in to an adequate depth before pushing the contents into his body. He pulled out the needle, holding his breath in anticipation. Leo’s eyes were tight with worry, Raph was frowning, April was biting her nail from behind Donnie, and Casey’s face was blank, like he’d done this a million times.

It took a minute, but slowly Mikey’s breathing started to even out. The second he gave everyone his signature smile, thanking Donnie with a small voice, everyone let out a sigh of relief. Raph immediately wrapped him into a hug and Mikey squeaked in surprise. Leo looked at the two, giving them both a fond smile. Donnie sat back on his haunches, chuckling in disbelief that it actually worked.

Mikey’s face was still puffy, but he could breathe. That was all anyone cared about.

It’s also available to read on Ao3 :3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65550712

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 1 month ago

Text

We can all agree that Ma Gasket (that mother cyclops from TLH) definitely has a grudge against Jason, right? And we can all agree that if given the opportunity, she would definitely organize some sort of cyclops, monster mafia to get revenge on Demigods as a whole, right?

K maybe not but regardless! I take any excuse to whump my favourite character.

Based on the whumpay prompt “Loss of Power”. I definitely had fun with this one 😂 Jason is a little shit who doesn’t know when to shut up, but it’s okay cuz we love him anyway.

Tw: Concussions, broken bones, blood, swearing

Jason wasn’t expecting this.

He’d been on a routine monster hunt, trying to find the monsters left over from the war. This one particular group of Empousai had been causing trouble for satyrs and demigods alike. Following them home, infiltrating schools, it was a nightmare. Jason had volunteered to hunt them down. He didn’t have anything going on that weekend, and he was a son of Jupiter. They wouldn’t be able to resist his smell.

He’d been checking out the outskirts of Brooklyn, closest to their last reported sighting. Funnily enough, the area was right next to Gravesend Bay. (If that wasn’t ominous, he didn’t know what was.) He’d been looking for an hour when he saw it- just a glimpse, but unmissable. There was a Cyclops a block down the road, currently making a right turn. It wasn’t the Empousai, but he supposed it would do.

He ran up to the corner, silently tracking the Cyclops until he was a good twenty feet behind him. He thanked the gods that he was downwind, otherwise this would get real ugly, real fast. He followed the Cyclops for a good ten minutes, getting increasingly more frustrated as time went on. He kept making sporadic turns, two rights, then a left, another right, three lefts- a right, on and on. He secretly hoped the monster was just awful with directions, otherwise he knew Jason was following him.

After going in a complete circle that had Jason dam near tearing his hair out, the Cyclops lead him to a series of abandoned buildings. One was almost falling apart, there were holes all over the ceilings, collapsed walls, overgrown weeds and rotted wood. The newest building looked to be recently vacated, still structurally sound, yet the overgrown grass told him it was recently abandoned. That’s where the Cyclops went, and secretly, he was glad. He didn’t feel like fighting in a house that looked like it would collapse if he sneezed too hard.

Jason waited a moment, holding his gladius tightly in his hand. He could call for backup, or he could take them on by himself. He snorted, he figured there’d be maybe two or three. He could easily take a few Cyclopses, especially if he had the element of surprise.

With a smirk plastered onto his face, he slowly approached the building. He used his powers to hover above the floor, he didn’t want to risk a creaky floorboard. Really, he was so quiet a mouse would be jealous. The entryway was of course boring, nothing but plain walls and a dirty floor. Vaguely, he could make out two voices talking down the hall. He walked slowly through the house until they got louder, hiding behind one of the door frames in the room over.

“-ind them.” One of them had said, and Jason tensed, freezing where he stood.

“They’re hidden, only we know where they are. Us monsters need to work together if we want to defeat those stupid brats.” A female voice this time, familiar, but Jason couldn’t put his finger on why.

“They’ve been looking. I’ve seen the scouts.” A male voice said, likely the Cyclops Jason followed in. Just then a sharp laugh pierced the air, malevolent and deep, and Jason’s blood ran cold.

“Let them look.”

He heard the footsteps walk away, floorboards creaking with every step. Once he thought it safe, he peaked around the corner. On the other side of the room was a staircase leading down to a basement, probably where the cyclopses went. Jason hesitated then- should he call someone? From what he gathered the monsters were forming an alliance of sorts, and clearly the Cyclopses were in on it. At the same time, they knew where the Empousai were. If Jason could find out more- this could be killing twenty birds with one stone.

Something in his brain told him to call someone anyway. If they were planning an attack, they’d be prepared; they’d have weapons and dozens of monsters at their disposal. Based on what he heard, they didn’t know he was here. If he could sneak out and call for backup, he could shut this monster mafia down today.

With a solid plan in mind, he made his way out of the house, walking far enough down the road that he didn’t worry about a sneak attack. Luckily there was a random bottle of water of the ground (how convenient), and Jason used that to start an Iris message, tossing a gold coin into the stream of water. He contacted the first person he thought of: Percy Jackson.

The conversation was short. Jason told him where he was, what he heard, and to hurry. Percy told him he’d be there. Jason smiled and swiped his hand through the message, left with a decision. Should he wait for Percy and take them on together, or take them on now? The Roman part of his brain said to wait. There was strength in numbers and a greater chance of victory, especially with how powerful they were. The Greek part fought to go now, knowing Percy would show up eventually. If something happened, he already had backup on the way, why not take down so monsters in the meantime?

He barely waited ten minutes before he was walking back to the house.

———————————————

The air was tense the second he entered the house, charged with negative energy. Jason went anyway. He was once told that he had the survival instincts of a deer on steroids, and he couldn’t say he disagreed. He made it over to the stairs, looking down into the dimly lit area with narrowed eyes. He took in a deep breath, his grasp on his weapon firm, before starting his slow descent into the basement.

He should’ve waited for Percy.

Once he made it down far enough that he could see the room, he stopped. There were about a dozen Cyclopses, five Laestrygonians, and two Dracaenae. His brain short circuited at the sheer amount of monsters occupying the same space without trying to kill each other. Briefly, he wondered if he could turn around and wait for Percy outside. At the same time he was trying to come up with a plan that didn’t involve him dying at any point in the next ten minutes. He hadn’t moved an inch more before he was spotted.

“Hey! It’s one of those halflings!”

Jason would’ve facepalmed, of course it was a Cyclops who snitched on him. Just then, he heard the same laugh he did earlier and a female Cyclops walked forward. That’s when Jason’s eyes widened- he knew her.

“My my..” she barked out a laugh. “If it isn’t the son of Jupiter. It’s been a while since we saw each other, hasn’t it?” Ma Gasket smirked.

Jason rolled his eyes, stalling it is. “A year, if I remember correctly.”

She hummed. The monsters around her stirred and Jason adjusted the grip on his gladius. Finally, she smiled, it was too wide and too big, a grotesque show that almost made him gag. He refrained, he didn’t want to piss her off anymore than she already was.

“You remember my sons, right Jason?” She pulled two familiar Cyclopses out of the crowd, placing a hand on both of their shoulders.

Jason snorted, speaking without thinking. “I remember killing them. What were their names? Dump and dork?” He smirked at his own joke. So much for not pissing her off, he thought to himself. Well, guess it was time to sell it. He leaned onto the railing smugly, his stance relaxing. Should he be relaxing? No. Was he anyway for some reason? Yes.

Ma narrowed her eye. “Sump and Torque.” She spat out, letting go of their shoulders. “You know, you really need to learn some manners.”

Jason let out a small laugh, feeling more and more relaxed by the second. He just needed to stall a little more.. “I mean, I was raised by wolves. They don’t teach you to say please and thank you. You’re too busy fighting for your life.”

She smirked again, and Jason refrained from wrinkling his nose. There was something so uncanny about her smirking that made him so very uncomfortable.

“Fighting for your life, huh?” She said slowly, then she looked around at the group of monsters, all of them buzzing with pent up energy. There were easily twenty in this room alone. “I bet we could give you a real fight, couldn’t we?”

At that the monsters perked up. Jason knew they had been waiting for permission, and they just got it. Fuck. Oh well. He laughed at her like she’d just told him she got hired by a modelling agency. “You guys? Please. I fought real giants last week. This is nothing.”

Was he digging himself a deeper hole? Yes. Did he care? Not particularly.

“We’ll see.”

All hell broke loose.

The Laestrygonians charged first, drool dripping from the side of their mouths, rotten yellow teeth glowing under the dim light. They had their hands outstretched, their eyes wide with mania, and Jason was ready. He turned around and sprinted up the stairs.

Behind him he could hear Ma’s laughter but he didn’t care. The basement was cramped, easily a death trap, but the main floor? It had exits, it was spacious, monsters would have to come up here one by one. He would have an easier time killing them that way if he could stay on top of things.

He turned around once he got a few feet past the doorframe, shifting over to the side. He waited for the first Laestrygonian to come up the stairs, slashing through his throat and cutting off his head within a second, killing it instantly. Gold dust flew everywhere, but Jason was just getting started. The next two Laestrygonians came up one after each other, and Jason shifted on his feet. One of them went to grab his head, he ducked. The other went for his arm, he managed to pull away. He avoided every hand reaching for him, but he did realize they were backing him into a corner and he needed to act now. One of the giants reached for his neck and he swung the blade around, cutting off his hand before he changed direction and plunged it into his heart. Again, gold dust flew everywhere, but he was already looking for the third Laestrygonian. He knew a few other monsters had made their way up the stairs, and he needed to get away from the corner.

Somehow he dodged another swing, rolling into a summersault before he popped up, cutting his way through the two Dracaenae. One of them managed to slash at his arm- thankfully, his non dominant one- but he quickly decapitated her. There was no time for finesse. His goal was to kill as many of these suckers as he could without dying, as quickly as possible.

The next five minutes were looking up for him. He killed the last Laestrygonian, a stab in the back after redirecting him into a wall. (He’d been really proud of that one.) He killed the last Dracaenae and six Cyclopses, leaving seven more to go. He sighed in annoyance, why didn’t he wait for Percy, he didn’t know. Well, he did know, but that wasn’t the point. The blood spilling from his arm was going everywhere, he was covered in bruises from stray fists, and he was tired. His muscles burned with exertion, his hand spasmed from how tightly he clenched his sword, his joints screamed at him to stop. Despite all of this, he pushed forward. He was already halfway done, he couldn’t give up now. Besides, Percy should be here any minute. He shook his head, no time for distracting thoughts, he needed to focus. Jason was fighting two Cyclopses, trying to stay out of reach from the other five. Apparently he wasn’t paying enough attention because one of them managed to club him in the back, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Before he could even think about getting up he’d heard the sound of the club sailing through the air, coming down hard onto his knee.

He’d heard the crack before he felt it.

A splitting pain shot up his leg and he choked out a scream. It felt like his knee had split into a million tiny pieces, and it burned like it had just been put under lava. The pain radiated from the wound like a wildfire, his vision went spotty and he had the strong urge to throw up. His fingers dug into the floor and his forehead rested on the wood. He closed his eyes, breathing harshly as he waited for the first wave of pain to pass.

He heard the monsters laughing behind him and his face burned with anger. Through gritted teeth he pulled himself up, every movement sending lightning bolts of agony through his body. He could see a few of them giving him smirks, a few more were grinning like wild animals, and Ma Gasket- she was holding the club.

“That’s what you get for killing my sons.” She snarled, her one eye bore a hole into his own and he stared back. He used the air around him to help him up, landing in a standing position. He was panting with exertion, his arms were shaking, his leg was a constant stream of unimaginable pain, but he was standing. Ma almost looked.. impressed.

The fight resumed.

Jason avoided a swing at his head, cutting off the attackers arm at the shoulder. He stabbed the monster in the back as momentum carried him past. He used the air to hover over the ground like earlier, compressing his knee at the same time. It helped just enough with the pain that he could fight. Two monsters came at him full force. He managed to kill one, but the other grabbed his shoulders and threw him into the wall behind him. His head flew back with a sickening crack, but he didn’t stop. His body wasn’t his own anymore, running completely on autopilot. The pain had shut off any logical thoughts, the only thing on his mind was surviving and tearing these monsters to pieces. He got up, lunging through the air before cutting off the Cyclopses head. Three of them came at him while Ma stood on the sidelines, watching the fight with a satisfied expression.

He dodged another blow, retaliating with one of his own. One of them managed to land a hit onto his ribs, stunning him just enough to throw him into the wall, again. This time he crashed onto the ground, spots dancing in his vision. His arm moved without thinking and stabbed the first Cyclops that came over, but his movements were quickly becoming sluggish and weak. The next monster easily knocked the weapon out of his hands, and Jason’s eyes widened in fear.

Fuck, he was so screwed.

It was a blur of pain after that. One Cyclops picked him up and smashed him into the wall once, twice, over and over again. He couldn’t do anything to stop him, he couldn’t summon his powers, he couldn’t even scream. His head snapped back like a broken rubber band, colliding with the drywall again and again. His knee hung limply, every movement threatening to pull him into darkness. He was dimly thankful that the wall wasn’t brick. After about thirty painful, yet incredibly boring seconds, he broke through the drywall. Really he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

What made this situation that much funnier was the sound of someone entering the house, perfect timing, as usual.

“Jason-?”

Crash.

He could perfectly picture Percy’s expression as he watched Jason get thrown across the room. He collided with yet another wall, falling onto the floor with a choked off yell. He was really regretting not waiting for Percy. His knee was killing him, he was still bleeding and he’d lost control of his powers for fucks sake. His vision had permanent black spots, and at this point he was certain he had a concussion, if not extensive brain damage. He was slumped down on his side, staring at the spiralling ceiling with his bleeding arm sprawled out next to him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk. He could even twitch a finger. He could vaguely hear the sounds of fighting, yelling- he was sure the sound of drywall collapsing wasn’t his imagination, but he didn’t know. His head wouldn’t stop spinning enough for him to look.

An unknown amount of time later he heard someone walking closer, dropping to their knees next to him. He tried to look over, but for some reason his eyes weren’t working properly. They wouldn’t stop fucking spinning. He felt someone’s hand on his cheek and he relaxed ever so slightly- Percy. It was Percy. He could hear him talking now, but his words were muffled and far away. All he could hear was gibberish. He gave a weak nod at him, to whatever he was saying, he didn’t know. He absolutely was not expecting the other to try and pick him up, and a harsh scream tore from his throat to let him know. The hands paused for a second, waiting for him to quiet down before they pulled him upright. His brain was swimming, it felt like he was on a rollercoaster and he almost threw up from the sensation. He panted harshly, closing his eyes to try and stave off the feeling. The light was too bright, his head hurt, he was so dizzy.. he just wanted to sleep. Jason could hear someone’s panicked shouting telling him to keep his eyes open, but he didn’t care.

He just wanted to sleep.

You can also find this on Ao3 :3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65447530

#jason grace #jason grace angst #jason grace is a little shit #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #i’m just a girl #whumpay2025 #concussions #broken bones #cw blood #idk what im doing #live laugh toaster bath #loss of power #i’m going insane #jason is unhinged #jason doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up and it definitely bites him in the ass #cyclops #monster mafia #the lost hero

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 1 month ago

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So I saw the Whumpay prompts “Truth Serum” and “Magic Overuse” and thought, if I don’t write about Harry Potter I’m basically committing a crime.

So we all know Veritaserum exists and it totally should’ve been used to clear Sirius’s name, but for some reason it never happened. I wrote about it set during prisoner of Azkaban, except it’s Whumpay so of course things go wrong

Here’s my crackfic turned angsty hell based on Hermione having common sense and being a little morally grey featuring oblivious Harry, smart Ron, and stupid Cornelius Fudge.

Tw: Erasing memories, headaches on steroids

They had just broken the bars off his cage, the sound of the the metal falling away almost deafening. That’s when it struck her.

“Veritaserum!” She exclaimed. She couldn’t see Harry’s nor Sirius’s face, but she could feel the confusion rolling off them in waves. They both exchanged looks before they stared back at the bushy haired girl, Sirius with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

“Er- Hermione, what about Veritaserum?” Harry had asked, still planted in front of her on Buckbeak. She slid off the Hippogrif, landing on the stone floor with a small thud, looking back up at Harry.

“It’ll clear his name!” She turned to Sirius now, a smile on her face. “If you take some in front of the Minister of Magic and Dumbledore- well, they can’t very well send you back to Azkaban, can they?”

She was stoked, wand in hand as he grinned happily. Sirius looked dumbstruck. It was the most logical thing he’d ever heard, but for some reason he’d never thought of before.

“This is why you’re the brightest witch of our age.” Harry laughed, finally realizing what this meant- what this could mean. If Sirius was cleared, he could finally escape the Dursley’s. He could finally live with someone who cared about his parents for all they did, and most importantly, cared about him.

“Hermione,” Sirius said, a strange look on his face, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re a genius. Absolutely brilliant.”

Hermione was still smiling when she helped Sirius onto Buckbeak’s back. She was still smiling when she told Dumbledore to summon the Minister; when she told him her grand plan. She was still smiling when the Minister of Magic showed up, looking vaguely annoyed and entirely skeptical.

This would prove it. Right here- this moment, this would prove it. Sirius was innocent.

She held back a grin as he chugged down the Veritaserum, barely containing her glee when he confessed that he hadn’t killed James and Lily. She shot Harry a satisfied glanced when he explained that it had been Peter all along, that he was working for the dark lord. He explained that while he did try to kill him, all he got was a finger.

The tension in the room was thick, waiting for the minister to say something. She gave Harry’s hand a small squeeze in support, waiting.

The smile dropped off her face faster than the speed of light when he said it didn’t matter. Her eyes got dark when he ordered cuffs to be placed on Sirius’s wrists despite the damming truth between them. Her hand twitched to her wand when Sirius’s face dropped in realization that he’d have to go back. She watched the light in his eyes dim, and she couldn’t stop herself. Later she’d blame it on impulsivity- but she knew it wasn’t true. She didn’t feel bad for what she did, she felt vindicated.

“Obliviate!”

At once the Minister and his associate stopped, their faces going blank. A sharp pain pierced her own skull, but she didn’t care. From the corner of her eye she could see Dumbledores surprise, clearly not expecting her to do that, but underneath the shock she could tell he was proud. Sirius looked like he didn’t know whether to be stunned or amused, his face settling somewhere between the two. Harry of course was horrified, standing beside her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Hermione!” He yelled, sounding vaguely appalled.

“Don’t.” She snapped, looking back at Harry. “Just take Sirius and wait for me at the cell.”

He shifted on his feet then, glancing over the Minister, the blank eyes staring into the distance. “Hermione, you just-“

“I know what I did!” She snapped, looking back at Fudge. “If he doesn’t want to see reason, well…” she smirked, her hand steady on her wand. “Then I guess he just won’t remember this, will he?”

No one would remember this she thought, watching Harry free his uncle from the godawful shackles. Her head pulsed and she closed her eyes, trying to will away the pain. Hermione waited until she heard his footsteps retreating before she opened them. Once he was gone, she turned to fully face Dumbledore. He gave her a knowing smile, like he knew exactly what she was planning.

“You may not be doing the right thing, but you’re doing it for the right reasons.” He spoke softly, tilting his head ever so slightly as he turned to look at Fudge. “That man was proven innocent, and yet..” he trailed off, looking away from the minister.

Hermione hesitated, her wand faltering in her grip, her palms sweaty where the skin touched wood. Before she could speak, Dumbledore was already raising a hand to silence her.

“I shall take Mr Fudge and his associate back to the ministry. Once I return, I’ll be sure to get rid of any evidence, lest you want a migraine for days.” His voice was smooth but amused, she could practically hear the eyebrow raise, even though she couldn’t see it. Hermione blushed in embarrassment, her gaze darting to the floor for a second. “I promise, no one will know this has been done, my dear.” He leisurely walked over to the two men, like this was an everyday occurrence. (It was Hogwarts, maybe it was.) Dumbledore took ahold of them both by the arm, looking back with a soft but knowing smile. “No one but you.”

———————————————

Hermione didn’t feel any regret when she left the room, now holding her wand firmly, the time turner tucked safely under her shirt.

She didn’t feel any regret when she made it back to Harry and Sirius, both of them in varying stages of confusion and worry.

She didn’t feel any regret when she raised her arm, pointing her wand at the two of them. She let a small apology fall from her lips, a courtesy she knew they wouldn’t remember.

“I’m sorry Harry, Sirius. This is for the best.”

She didn’t feel any regret when their faces went blank, their eyes clouding over. She didn’t feel any regret when she got back on Buckbeak, leading them to think they had just broken the bars.

If the law wouldn’t allow Sirius Black to live his life, then Hermione would. She wasn’t cruel, she wasn’t mean, but some people deserved it. In her eyes, Sirius didn’t. If the price she had to pay was a splitting headache and nausea, then she would pay it. Headaches went away. Nausea went away. The trauma from living with dementors never disappeared. Hermione would be dammed if she let Sirius go back knowing he was innocent.

Later that night the two of them sat in the infirmary with Ron. Harry had taken the role of filling him in while Hermione sat in silence. She massaged her temples every once in a while, for the most part having her head rest in her hand. Earlier she had told them that she was tired, they didn’t question it. The headache raged like a hurricane, battering the inside of her head so violently she almost cried. Her vision doubled, she was so nauseous she genuinely debated grabbing a bucket just in case- but she refused to show it. Not in front of Harry. It would be too suspicious.

She wasn’t paying attention when he told Ron that he felt weird, like he was missing time. She didn’t hear him when he stated that the rescue felt much longer than it was, too focused on the cacophony of drums behind her eyes. Only when he turned to her to ask if she felt the same did she realize what he was talking about. She put her shaking hands onto her lap. Out of sight, out of mind, right? She did her best to sound genuine while she reassured him that everything was okay.

“I mean, the stairs did take a bit longer than usual,” she said with a convincingly thoughtful hum, “Maybe it’s just the adrenaline.. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Her voice was strained, trying her best not to show the pain. She gave Harry a bright smile, and he returned one of his own, even if his didn’t reach his eyes. She felt a pit forming in her stomach, but she quickly pushed it away. Third years weren’t supposed to use that spell, let alone know about it, but Hermione was no ordinary third year. She’d been gifted a time turner, what was one more secret to keep? Yes, her head hurt, a side affect of using magic to powerful for her age, but it was well deserved. She didn’t regret anything she did, even if it meant having a migraine. She’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

After Harry had gone to bed, Hermione stuck around. Ron gave her a side eye from his position on the cot but she rolled her eyes, ignoring the spike of nausea from the action. She gave him an unamused look, quirking up one of her eyebrows. “Really Ronald, everything’s fine. Why are you looking at me like that?”

For a minute he just stared, and she sat there confused. Finally he reached over, placing a hand over top of hers. “Whatever you did..” he paused, unsure if he should continue. “I know you had a good reason to do it.”

She stared at him with wide eyes, but she didn’t respond. Was she really that obvious?

He chuckled for a second at her confused expression, a small sound that filled the air between them. “There are painkillers over there, you know.” He said, jutting his head to a small bottle on his bedside table. “They work faster if you hold ‘em under your tongue- here, let me grab them for you.”

Her eyes went wide with shock and she looked away. Ron was a lot more observant than she gave him credit for, clearly. She heard him grab the bottle, having some difficulty flipping open the lid, and she laughed quietly at his struggle. Her gave her a small smile, finally getting it open with a triumphant yell. She shook her head, he was lucky they were the only people in here. She held out her spare hand and he shook three pills into her palm, closing the cap and putting it away.

“Take one now, and these two tomorrow.” He said firmly, now holding a small mug of water. She looked at him with a grateful smile, popping one of the magical pills into her mouth before she drank the water to help it go down.

“Thank you.” She said, setting the water onto the side table. He just shrugged, looking oddly smug. “What’re friends for?”

Ron gave her hand a pat before pulling back, giving Hermione an easy, reassuring smile. As the feeling of being stabbed in her skull slowly faded away, she smiled back.

You can also read this on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65405383

#harry potter #whumpay2025 #hermione granger #ron weasley #cornelius fudge #albus dumbledore #headache on steroids #ron weasley is our king #oblivious Harry Potter #Hermione deserves to be morally grey #sirius is oblivious #idk what im doing #live laugh toaster bath #magic overuse #truth serum #prisoner of azkaban

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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My sister was watching the fifth season of the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and imma be real with y’all I forgot how devastating the mutation apocalypse was. That shit was emotional hit after emotional hit. DONNIE BEING A ROBOT?? You’re telling me. This man is now a robot? Like FOREVER???

So you’re saying he’s immortal. He’s going to have to watch all of his brothers die because he’s a freaking machine!?!? WHAT

Safe to say I have some strong emotions on the subject, and what better way to deal with them then whumping Donbot during Whumpay <3

Tw: Suicidal thoughts, and questioning reality

(Side note: one of these days I’ll figure out how to use italics and bold text on Tumblr- cuz this fic has some heavy italics- but today is not that day 🫡)

(Side side note: I figured it out 💀 I feel so stupid)

2,644 days.

7 years, 2 months, and 3 weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since Mira’s death.

His metal feet sunk into the sand, small bits getting stuck in his gears and wiring. He knew he’d have to clean it out later, the process would be long and tedious, requiring high air pressure and rusted tools, but right now he didn’t care.

He’d been alone far too long to care.

Donnie (was he still Donnie?) remembered the others. Their faces. Their voices. He remembered the way things were before the apocalypse.

Before he was metal. (Before his flesh was turned to steel, his veins to wires, his tendons to gears- before he became nothing more than a robot with a conscience.)

He couldn’t remember his own face. What did he look like? He knew he’d been tall, otherwise the metal body wouldn’t be tall. Did he have any scars? Moles? Mikey had freckles. Raph had that crack in his plastron. Leo still had the scuffs from Shredder throwing him through a window. (It was Shredder, right?)

What did he have?

…

He couldn’t remember his voice. He could hear the robotic, automated voice he was programmed with, but it wasn’t his voice. Even though he thought it was genius at the time, it wasn’t his. But it had been expressive, it sounded just enough like Donnie that he’d been happy with it.

He remembered the fear before he died, everything going black before he was looking through eyes that weren’t his own. He remembered.. he remembered his death. (Was it his death?)

Donnie remembered a lot of things. That’s the thing about being a robot, you can’t really forget. He used a data chip big enough to house the entire internet. He still remembered everything like it was yesterday.

Sometimes it still felt like yesterday.

Other times, he was reminded of his agonizing (not agonizing, he couldn’t feel, how could it be agonizing-) existence. Alone in a desert. Everyone he loved, dead. But he was still here.

(Who was he?)

Sometimes he wished he could die like the others, pull out a few wires, melt some circuits and be done.

He knew that wouldn’t work. He’d tried before, and all it did was cause unnecessary pain. (He can’t feel pain, he’s not real, he can’t feel pain-)

Sometimes he didn’t move- he just sat there, watching his memories like a slideshow.

The first day he met April.

The farmhouse.

Going to space.

Casey. His not-quite-friend not-quite-enemy. Someone he should’ve spent more time with, maybe gotten to know a little more. (He would’ve laughed. He spent too much time with him- his skull. It sat on the dashboard for years before Raph blew it up.)

He remembered Splinter. Sensei. Hamato Yoshi. His Father.

He remembered his voice, the way he’d hum when he pretended to be deep in thought. (Was it pretend?) He remembered his whiskers, every life lesson, every training session, every time he showed up when they needed help. He remembered the emergency cheese phone, the rat king, the deaths.

Donnie remembered his hugs. He wished he could feel them again.

(He couldn’t feel anything.)

The sun was blinding, bright and beating down onto his scuffed body, and Donnie walked. He knew the metal was heating up but he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t care.

The antennas twitched on his head, his arms swinging by his sides. Gears whirred, the worn metal groaned and creaked, but he wasn’t dead.

(He wanted to be dead.)

There was something so painfully mundane about his immortality. Days stretched for years but years felt like days. Everything blurred together. The people he’s met, the things he’s done. If he hadn’t installed an internal clock, he would’ve lost time years ago.

…

He missed his brothers.

Yes, he missed Splinter and April and Casey, but his brothers were… they were everything to him. It was them. The four of them. Against the world. They were everything to each other. Their rock. Their shoulder to cry on. Their biggest supporters. Their biggest bullies. They were family. They were each others flesh and blood.

(He wanted desperately to be flesh and blood.)

One by one they had all dropped, each of them passing in their own time.

Mikey had been the first to go. What was it… 15 years ago?

They were all crushed. He was the youngest. The baby of the family, the glue that kept them together, the person who kept a smile on their faces. He shouldn’t have died first.

But he did.

Donnie remembered Raph and Leo the night they found him. They were both crying ugly tears, yet they had been so silent Donnie almost didn’t notice.

They never cried.

They held each other then, giving each other the comfort Donnie couldn’t provide. He remembered sitting there, consumed in his own version of grief but unable to show it. He knew Mikey was gone- that he wasn’t coming back, and it hurt more than anything in the world. But he didn’t feel like it. He couldn’t feel it.

(He just wanted to feel it.)

He did his best to comfort his older brothers but.. there’s only so much to do when your hands are made of metal, and your voice is full of static.

He remembered for a few months how they doted on him. He was the youngest now. Donnie was the baby. Of course they never said it out loud, they didn’t want to take that title from Mikey, but Donnie knew. He knew that’s what they thought.

He didn’t want to be the youngest.

(He didn’t want to be alive.)

Leo had been next. The mutation wasn’t.. optimal for a long life span. It didn’t help that the grief had been suffocating, too much and too prominent with every movement he made. He’d been in a lot of pain before his body finally shut down.

He passed four months after Mikey did.

He remembered Raph the night they found Leo. He didn’t cry, not this time, and he didn’t scream. He was resigned. He’d turned to Donnie and clapped a hand onto his steel shoulder, giving him a grim smile.

“It’s just me and you now, D.”

(Donnie wanted to cry.)

Raph hadn’t gone for another few years, stubborn as always, even in death. He passed 12 years ago.

Maybe that’s why he was here- walking. The anniversary of Raphs death was the hardest. This date forever commemorating how he lost his brothers. Forever a reminder of Donnie’s solitude. His crippling immortality.

(Why couldn’t he let himself die that day?)

He looked up at the sight of a familiar structure, concrete and beautiful, a small body of water. The first place they had all stood, together, after being reunited.

He’d made it.

He was never sure how long it took to walk here, but he didn’t care.

(He couldn’t feel it anyway.)

In front of him stood a mural, the last thing Mikey had made before his passing. On it was the four of them, past and present. Or- past and past.

In one, they were all turtles. Splinter stood beside Leo. April next to Donnie. Casey leaning an arm on Raphs shoulder. Mikey was skateboarding right front and centre, he was in the middle of the picture. The heart of the team.

On the other side was them now. (But it wasn’t now, was it?) They were all standing in the same position, but Casey was gone, now replaced by Mira. Beside Donnie stood open air, and Leo’s body took up the space Splinter would’ve.

Donnie stared at the wall for a while. His eyes flicking between the two pictures. He wanted to go back to when times were simpler. He wanted flesh. And blood. He wanted to feel.

He wanted his own memory and his own thoughts. Not a computerized copy.

(But they were still his, weren’t they?)

(He was still Donnie.)

…

(Right?)

The lenses took in every detail, every paint chip, every mistake of Mikey’s brush, carefully fixed by another layer of paint. He wanted to cry.

(He couldn’t cry.)

He wanted to scream.

(His voice box rusted a long time ago.)

He wanted to rip himself apart. He wanted to take off the metal and find himself underneath.

Donnie.

He wanted to be Donnie.

…

(Who was he?)

If you want to see the properly emphasized version, you can also find this on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65392465

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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I was so disappointed with the aftermath of Stiles possession. Not only did it feel kinda rushed, it was just an “oh the bad guys gone and now Stiles is totally fine time to move on!” type of situation. Like no. I know they exorcized void, but give me something!! Please!!

Since I am a writer and deranged, I took the Whumpay prompts “Psychic Link” and “Aftermath of Possession” to create this short drabble about possible after affects from his possession, so yk

SCOTT MCCALL IS NOT AN ASSHOLE IN THIS!!! WE LOVE SCOTT!!

Tw: Mentions of losing time/slight dissociation

Stiles never felt the same after void.

He knew, logically, that he was gone. They’d banished him. But sometimes he wasn’t so sure.

Most of the time he felt normal, he went about his life like usual, helping out the pack where he could. Sometimes though.. sometimes he said things- did things, that he couldn’t control. School presentations ending in detention, instigating a fight at one of Lydia’s parties, snapping at Scott for no reason. He remembered it all, but it didn’t feel like him, rather it felt like he was a passenger in his own mind.

He tried not to worry, coming up with excuse after excuse when his friends asked if he was okay.

“I’m just tired, don’t worry about it.”

“I had a bad day- sorry for snapping.”

“I pulled an all nighter, I don’t think my brains working at its top capacity if you know what I mean.”

“Dammit, I forgot to take my meds.”

Was he telling the truth? Mostly, he was just distorting the actual affects of said actions. He didn’t want to worry his friends- void was supposed to be behind them all. Void needed to be in the past, or Stiles would start freaking out.

The dreams started pretty soon after the behavioural issues. Confusing and quick, flashes of things Stiles didn’t remember, yet seemed too real to be fake. Sometimes he dreamt that he was higher than life, watching the world from a birds perspective. He had dreams about flying, feeling the wind on his body like it he was actually there. These dreams made him wary, some part of him thought they could still be linked. With what they did to the Nogitsune… it was possible, but he still wasn’t convinced.

Things got concerning when he started losing time. It was never like it was before, losing hours or days, waking up in places he didn’t recognize. No, this was smaller, subtle.

The first time he was walking with Scott on their way to practice. He blinked, and suddenly he was a couple feet further than he had been. He brushed it off, thinking maybe he had just zoned out for a second. He convinced himself that he was fine. Void was gone.

It kept happening. He never lost more than a minute, but every time it happened he grew more and more concerned. Stiles knew he should tell someone, but how was he supposed to say it? Hey guys, I know we exorcised Void but I think he might still be here. Oh no, it’s not a big deal, I just black out every once in a while. Oh, also I can’t control what I say or do sometimes. No no, you don’t need to worry ‘cause it’s really not that bad, I’m just letting you know. Anyway, what’s up with you lately?

Yeah. No way.

He was going to deal with this by himself if it killed him.

..Okay, maybe not, because saying that never ended well for anyone. He’d deal with this until it got worse. Like, Void possessing him levels worse. Hopefully it would never get to that point, and Stiles could just move on with his life and forget about everything that happened with the dumb Nogitsune. Right?

Wrong.

Stiles had been at the wolf house, taking a day to hang out with everyone. Everyone wanted some time to just be teenagers (Derek not included). They brought snacks, watched movies, and caught up with the normal things in life. Someone mentioned Isaac and things got quiet for a second, the air tense with his recent departure. Shortly after that the chatter resumed, if a little less excited than it was before. Stiles had excused himself, heading to the kitchen to get some water. He blinked, and suddenly Scott was in front of him, shaking his shoulders and calling his name.

“-iles? Stiles! Dude! Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Jesus Scott, you wanna stop screaming my ear off?” Stiles said, pushing himself out of Scott’s hold. The Alpha looked sheepish for a second before he asked quietly.

“You alright dude?”

Stiles shrugged, giving him an easy smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Scott didn’t look impressed with that answer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You were just holding a knife.”

Stiles stopped, his smile dropping. Fuck him.. “Yeah well, it was a nice knife.” He said, trying desperately to deflect. He knew he should tell him- but come on, cut a guy some slack!

“Stiles.” Scott said, sternly. “What’s going on?”

He paused, fidgeting with his hands as he looked around the kitchen. He could see the knife he presumed he was holding set onto the counter, it was a chopping knife. Of course. He looked behind Scott and that’s when he noticed the rest of the pack. Derek was leaning against the wall, Lydia had her arms crossed, standing next to him. Kira was standing behind Lydia with a worried expression. Of course, their eyes bore into his. It felt like he was suffocating. They weren’t saying anything but he could feel the disappointment, the worry, the fear.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a second before he finally responded. “Look- maybe..“ he paused, sighing. “Okay, I know we got rid of Void, the ritual worked, right?”

He saw everyone’s uneasy expressions, Derek pushed off the wall with narrowed eyes, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Somehow Stiles felt like he was judging him the most.

“Well,” he continued, looking at the wall beside him. “I don’t think we got rid of all of him- I dunno, maybe there’s some after effects from getting possessed that no one told me about.”

The silence was deafening, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him like he was a frog laid out on a dissection table. He shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor. Scott was the first one to break the silence.

“Stiles.. why didn’t you tell us?” He sounded hurt, like someone had just told him that his dog was dead. Stiles shrugged, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on his pants.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal, I didn’t want to worry you.” He said, finally looking up. Lydia moved forward, a sad expression on her face. She held out her arms and pulled him into a hug, tucking her face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Even though the hug was unexpected, it was nice.

“Of course we’re going to worry, you’re our friend.”

He pretended that word didn’t hurt, turning his head into her hair just enough that it wasn’t weird. His hands tightened around her before he slowly let go, mourning the loss once she fully pulled away. She held her hands on the side of his face, giving him a look that spoke volumes.

“We handle this kind of stuff together, right? You should’ve told us. We could’ve figured this out so much sooner.” Her voice was kind but clearly upset, clouded with emotion Stiles couldn’t quite understand.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Their eyes were still locked together but she sighed, pulling her hands away with a small smile. “Good. Next time I hope we don’t have to find you holding a giant knife.”

“Let’s hope there is no next time.” Derek piped up from the back. His arms were crossed over his chest, but his face was relaxed, giving Stiles a knowing look.

Scott clapped a hand onto his shoulder, giving it a firm shake. Stiles looked at him with a half smile, putting a hand over his. He was glad he finally told them, he felt.. better in a way, like he didn’t have to carry this burden on his own. He felt light, but he was tired and so, so drained.

“We’re going to deal with this together. Alright?” Scott said firmly. His voice was reassuring and left no room to argue. Stiles rolled his eyes but his smile got just a little bit brighter, giving the hand under his own a pat. He nodded at his best friend in understanding and relief, he really should’ve done this sooner.

“Together.”

You can also find this on Ao3 :P

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65344081

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #lydia martin #derek hale #kira yukimura #void stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #psychic link #aftermath of possession #scott mccall is a good friend #idk what im doing #im just a girl #whumpay2025 #ao3 writer

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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I’ve been on that Whumpay grind, and I’m back again (to no one’s shock or surprise). I dunno about you guys, but I love rescue fics. I also love the teenage mutant ninja turtles.

When I saw the prompt “Muzzled”, I knew exactly what needed to be done.

I’m pretty sure I hyperfocused so hard I blacked out lmao, but here we go

Tw: Swearing (it’s always Raph), mentions of injuries and blood

Leonardo wasn’t prepared for this.

They had been looking for weeks. Two hellish weeks. They had checked under every rock, every nook, in every cranny. They ransacked every abandoned building they came across, every tunnel in the sewers. Hell, they even broke into the Shredders lair.

They. Looked. Everywhere.

They were getting desperate, snappy. They barely slept, barely ate. Master Splinter had tried to keep the two of them inside for one day- just to rest.

He never tried that again.

It had been the beginning of the third week when they found it. Raphael had almost run straight by the building, but Leo stopped. He noticed that on the gps there was no building in this location. Not only that, but they couldn’t see an address. The structure was way too new to be off the grid, and it was easy to realize something shady was going on.

From an outside perspective it was just a storage building. Unassuming, grey brick, a blue roof made of metal, and a ten foot high chain link fence that circled the property. For a few hours they waited and watched, silently. It bustled with just enough activity that they almost left, wondering if they were making something out of nothing. That was until it hit him that the people coming in weren’t the same ones coming out a few minutes later. Leo knew it shouldn’t take hours to check your storage compartment, unless you weren’t. That’s when Raph spotted the man, an officer circling the perimeter.

“What the fuck is this? Protected storage?” He snapped, huffing with frustration. They had been up in the trees, hidden from view but still able to observe the compound.

Leo didn’t react, scanning the property for guards. It didn’t take long to realize that it was armed to the teeth with soldiers and guns.

“There’s something sketchy going on down there.” He mumbled.

Beside him, Raph snorted. “No shit, fearless.”

They fell silent once again, and Raph shifted on his tree branch. He was almost.. apprehensive. Scared.

“Do you think… Mikey and Donnie are in there?” He asked softly, looking at his older brother. Leo’s eyes hardened, his fist tightening on the branch in hand. He hoped so, he really hoped so.

“Theres only one way to find out, right?”

Raphael looked confused for a second before he smirked, cracking his knuckles with an evil looking glint in his eye.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

———————————————

It wasn’t hard to break in. They slipped past the guards easily, taking them out with practiced precision. They were methodical and silent, hidden within the shadows. They made their way into some sort of elevator. They’d already stolen a keycard from one of the high ranking guards, ensuring access to every level. The first floor they landed on seemed to store old and unused lab technology. They had a laugh about how Donnie would love this, before they fell silent, the weight of what was at stake resting heavily on their shoulders.

The next floor was a lab, extensive and huge. It seemed to go on forever, door after door leading to more rooms than they could count on both hands. But it wasn’t the size that worried them, it was everything else. Tazers and cattle prods, trays full of scalpels and bone saws, dissection tables, test tubes numbered from 1-578. Then there was that room, full of giant tubes containing some sort of green goo. What they held.. well, it looked like mutants. They were probably made from scratch, floating within the green liquid.

They gave each other a look then, certain they were in the right place, and yet so incredibly scared of what they might find.

The floor below that looked like a training room, one they didn’t bother exploring.

However, the floor below that one… well, it was nothing short of a prison. Cells lined the walls in every direction, and Leo’s skin crawled with disgust. It was inhumane, unsanitary and it reeked of blood. Some cells were empty, some weren’t. Even if he wanted to save every mutant captured, he knew there wasn’t any time. He was on a mission. He needed to find his brothers.

It was one of the last cells, furthest away from the elevator, practically hidden in the darkness. They would’ve walked past without a second glance if they hadn’t heard it, a high pitched whimper, the sound of chains rustling. Then, a voice.

“Leo..?”

It was scratchy, barely above a whisper, but Leo would recognize that voice anywhere. His heart had plummeted to his feet as he rushed to the bars, grabbing at them desperately.

“Donnie!?” He whisper shouted, trying to peer into the dark cell. He could make out two silhouettes, one of them sat up against the wall, his arms hanging next to him, limply. Laid out on his lap there was a second figure, presumably asleep, curled up close to the first. With what little light they had, Leo could make out green skin and shells on both of them.

Next to him, Raph had froze, staring at the scene in front of him with wide eyes. His sais hung limply in his hands, mouth parted in horror. He stepped forward and his face tightened, twisting in guilt and worry. He had stabbed his sai into the lock mechanism, twisting it roughly until he heard a click. Raph didn’t waste any time before he entered the cell, dropping to his knees next to the two figures. Leo followed soon after, first checking to make sure no one heard the commotion. Once he deemed it was safe, he joined them inside the poor excuse for a room.

Raph had pulled out his t-phone to turn the flashlight on, and almost dropped it immediately after.

Donnie was muzzled. Leo hadn’t noticed until now- how, he wasn’t sure- but he was muzzled. Like a wild animal. He gasped from his place behind Raph, his hand covering his mouth as he glanced over their bodies. He didn’t want to look too closely just yet, scared of what he might see. What he had gathered from the once over was enough. Leo wanted to throw up, but he knew he needed to keep it together. He was the leader for Christ’s sakes! But… god.

Leonardo wasn’t prepared for this.

It was quiet. They all stood there- or sat, in Donnie’s case- and stared. Raph couldn’t look away from the muzzle. Leo was scanning Mikey’s shell, mentally noting every new dent and scratch. Donnie’s eyes flicked between his two older brothers, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

They sound of a low groan snapped them out of their silent trance. Michelangelo shifted from where he was in Donnie’s lap, letting out the same whimper they heard earlier. Leo didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but here he was, his heart breaking.

“Oh god..” he mumbled, finally dropping to his knees on the other side of Donatello. He hesitantly grabbed Mikey’s shoulders, rolling him over. He almost puked at what he saw.

His little brother had bruises covering his skin and his beak looked broken, evident by the blood dripping down his face. What really pissed him off was the collar around his neck, metal and about an inch thick. It looked too tight to be comfortable, but, it did explain why the youngest didn’t have a muzzle. Leo swallowed harshly, tapping Mikey’s shoulder.

“Mikey, can you hear me?”

His brothers eyes fluttered but didn’t open, and Leo frowned. He grabbed his shoulder, careful about any bruises or scrapes, and gave him a light shake.

“Come on Mike, we need to get you out of here.”

Finally he seemed to stir, cracking his eyes open ever so slightly. Donnie immediately pushed the t-phone out of Mikey’s face, before he gingerly brought a hand to his forehead, swiping his thumb over the skin a few times. Mikey looked up at Donnie with confusion and maybe concern, before he looked around. He saw Leo first and did a double take, his eyes widening in shock. Then Mikey was sitting up, far too quickly because he nearly fell over in the process, but it was clear that he didn’t care, throwing himself into Leo’s arms. Donnie reached after him, his arm hovering in the air as he watched the two before it dropped onto his lap.

Raph had long since started looking around for the chains they’d heard earlier. Once spotted, he didn’t waste any time before breaking both of them with his sai. He let out a small puff of air, sitting back onto his heels. At least they weren’t tied down anymore, he thought bitterly.

Leo didn’t care about anything but the turtle in his arms. He held his brother tightly, the relief was finally hitting him. He could feel Mikey’s tears soaking his shoulder, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t shedding some of his own. The younger turtle was trembling, his face was tucked into Leo’s neck and his body felt cold, but Leo didn’t care. He was here. In Leo’s arms. That’s all that mattered right now.

“Not to burst your bubble or anything, but we need to get out. Like, now.” Raph snapped, already helping Donnie to his feet. Leo noticed that the muzzle was still on his face, it must’ve been too dangerous to take it off right now. Raph wouldn’t leave it unless he had too.

Leo nodded from his place on the floor, shifting Mikey into a princess carry soon after. He stood up, pulling Mikey close to his chest. His younger brother still hadn’t said anything, and that fact alone was starting to worry Leo.

“Alright, you got Donnie?” A quick nod of confirmation from Raph was all he needed before they set off. They were careful, doing their best to be quiet. Donnie stumbled a lot, clearly dizzy and weak, before Raph wordlessly offered him a piggyback.

It was smooth sailing from there on.

They made it to the elevator and hit the main level, all of them standing in silence. Raph and Leo were relieved to have their brothers back, but worried about what happened. Mikey and Donnie were still reeling from their imprisonment. They didn’t see any guards- they were all still tied up and gagged- and made it across the property within a minute.

The first step outside of the gates felt like a huge weight lifted off their shoulders. Leo let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and Raph was quick to call their father. He let him know that they found their brothers and that they were heading home.

They made it back about an hour later to a panicked April and a concerned Splinter. They still didn’t know what happened to them, they weren’t sure they ever would, but they were home, and that was good enough for Leo.

You can also find this on Ao3 :3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65316250

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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Whumpay has my going crazy, so to all the Donatello whumpee fans out there, this one’s for you.

Donnie deserved to crash out after the events of The Fourfold Trap and Leo should’ve apologized. Hence, we have this

(Uses the prompts from day 2, and day 15)

Tw: Swearing (it’s Raph), and mentions of injuries

Donnie slumps in his chair, staring at the remnants of his latest failure. The liquid was pitch black, bubbling in front of him, mockingly.

He groans, putting his face into his hands. This was the fifth failure of the night. It was supposed to work- why haven’t any of them been working?

He forces himself into an upright position, shoving the black sludge to the far side of his desk. His head is pounding but he doesn’t care, he has to find a cure to the brainworm. He forces his hands to stop shaking as he grabs a pipette, trying a different combination of chemicals. He’s meticulous, careful and calculated. Every drop feels like torture, the calm before the storm. He adds the last ingredient and waits with bated breath. For a second it looks like it’s going to work and he stands up, planting his hands on the table. He’s laughing, it’s working- he’s done it!

Of course, it didn’t work.

The mixture turns cement grey, bubbling like the last one had. He groans again, slamming his hands onto his desk. He was so close. But of course- of course it wouldn’t work. Why would it work? All he does is fail. With an angry shout he punches his desk, once, twice- he only stops when his hand starts throbbing.

His eyes burn. His head hurts. He’s so tired- he hasn’t slept since their kidnapping, too preoccupied with finding a cure to the brain worm. He wasn’t even sure he’d bandaged his burns, he just didn’t have the time. He lets out a bitter laugh, the remnants of another experiment gone wrong glaring at him. Gloating. Screaming. He’s a failure. All he’s done lately is fail- he couldn’t make the cure, he couldn’t save his brothers, he couldn’t beat the brain boggler, all he could do was fail.

He wants to cry, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure he can. Instead he takes a deep breath, running a hand over the top of his head. He can do this. He can do this.

He gives his hands a shake, cracks his neck, and metaphorically rolls up his sleeves. He won’t rest until he gets this right and finds a cure. He can’t. He has to do this for Leo. For Splinter.

————————————————————

It has been a few days since the kidnapping. Mikey had been shaken up for the first day or so, but bounced back quickly compared to the others. Raph still had the occasional headache (especially when he didn’t drink enough water) but it looked like he was on the road to a full recovery. Mikey had decided to spend most of his time annoying said brother, playing pranks on the older turtle whenever he could.

Currently, Mikey sat in front of the TV, cross legged and smiling at an episode of Crognard The Barbarian. Raph sat on the couch behind him, comic in hand. The two had been bickering up until a few moments ago, leaving them in a not so silent, silence.

Leo emerged from the dojo, stretching his arms above his head with a small sigh. He’d been spending most of his time with Splinter, meditating, and talking about Karai. This was the first time he’s been out since this morning.

“Has anyone seen Donnie?” He asked, and Raph snorted, shaking his head.

“Not since we got back.” He said snarkily, refusing to take his eyes off his comic. “He’s been cooped up in his lab, something about finding a cure? That ringing any bells?” Raph looked away from the comic, giving Leo a pointed look. The eldest narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Whether or not he did this out of frustration or guilt he wasn’t sure.

“Really?” He frowned, glancing at the large doors to his side. “Did he at least grab anything to eat?”

“Nope,” Mikey said, popping the p. He leant back on his hands, still looking at the TV as he answered his brother. “I brought him some pizza earlier, he might’ve had that.”

Leo frowned harder before he let out a sigh, once again glancing at the door. “Doubt it.”

Raph snapped his comic book shut, staring at him with narrowed eyes. “Well maybe if you hadn’t yelled at him-”

“Oh- so this is my fault now?” Leo scoffed, his arms falling to his sides. “He knew how much it meant to sensei, he wasn’t trying hard enough!”

Raph stood up, glaring hard at his older brother. “Trying hard enough? Do you- do you hear how stupid you sound!? Of course he was trying, you idiot!”

Leo rolled his eyes, adjusting his feet. “He wasn’t trying enough.” He said it with finality, a hard tone that didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Raphs forehead vein made an attempt to burst out of his skin, but he did his best to stay calm.

Leo furrowed his eyebrows, taking a few steps forward. “That’s all I told him- it’s not like I told him to make it his whole life!“ Leo was getting angrier by the second- look, he knows Donnie was trying. But they didn’t have time- they needed a cure as soon as possible.

“His- are you kidding me, fearless?“ Raph marched towards him, his fists balled. “I mean seriously, how do you not see how much of an asshole you were.”

Leo stood his ground, clenching his fists. “She needs this cure. Splinter needs his daughter. I was only trying to give him motivation-“

“Motivation!?” Raph snapped, laughing loudly. “Are you that obsessed with her that you thought bitching out your brother was the best idea for motivation?”

Leo spluttered, holding his hands up in front of him. “I did not bitch-“

“You kinda did, bro.” Mikey’s voice cut in, giving Leo a dodgy side eye. “Donnie was always working on that thing. What you said was not cool, dude.”

The two older turtles stopped, staring at the youngest. Raph held a hand out, gesturing to Mikey. If he had an eyebrow to raise, he would’ve done so. “You know it’s bad when even Mikey admits it.”

Leo stood silently, staring at the ground. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, a mixture of anger and guilt swirling in his mind. He wasn’t- Donnie should know that he wasn’t trying to be harsh. He was just stressed, and he felt like Donnie could be doing better.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Leo frowned, looking up at the shorter turtle. Raph crossed his arms while Mikey piped up from the floor. “Apologize, duh.”

Leo sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine.”

“And take him some more pizza!”

————————————————————

Donnie had barely slept, the pizza Mikey brought over long since forgotten on the floor. He was hunched over his desk, his eyes drooping every so often. He was no closer to creating a cure than he had been a week ago, and he was starting to get extremely frustrated with himself.

That’s where Leo found him. Muttering quietly, shaky hands reaching for pipettes and test tubes, beakers lined up on his desk, all filled with the same orange liquid. Donnie was evidently doing multiple experiments at the same time, trying to cut his time short.

Leo sighed, glancing around the room. His eyes landed on the uneaten pizza and he frowned, his fingers twitching under the plate in his hand. He shifted awkwardly, waiting for Donnie to notice that he was there- usually, the sound of the door opening would’ve been enough. Today, the taller turtle was none the wiser, far too wrapped up in his experiments to notice. Leo very quickly got fed up with it and cleared his throat, walking a little closer with intentionally loud steps.

Donnie jolted, his hands seizing. He nearly dropped the test tube he was holding, just barely steadying himself enough to avoid a spill. Once he was calm, Donnie set the tube onto a holder, placing his hands on the desk, his head bowed forward in frustration.

Donnie was turning as he spoke, pinching the bridge of his beak as he did so. “Raph, I already told you, if you want me to get out you’re gonna have to-“ he paused, finally realizing which brother he was talking too. He locked eyes with Leo, eyes widening slightly before they hardened. “Oh. It’s you.”

Leo tried not to feel hurt, but the stab of guilt in his chest made that difficult. He walked forward a few steps, gesturing to the plate in his hand. “I brought pizza.” He tried, gently. Donnie eyed it up before he turned back to his desk, waving a hand over his shoulder. “Put it on the side.”

Leo frowned again (he seemed to be doing a lot of that-) before he set the plate down next to the one Mikey had brought him. “Are you gonna eat it?” He questioned, crossing his arms in a classic big brother move. “You haven’t even touched the stuff Mikey brought you.”

“I’ll eat later.” Donnie’s tone was dismissive and cold, hardly paying attention anymore. Leo didn’t know why that made him so mad.

“Come on Donnie, just one piece won’t hurt.” He tried bargaining, taking another step towards the turtle. He was a few feet away and still, his younger brother refused to look at him.

“Oh, but it will, right?” He snapped, narrowing his eyes at the beaker in front of him. “If I eat, I’m not working on the cure.”

Leo winced, opening his mouth before closing it. He let out a loud sigh, giving Donnie his best mom look. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” He snapped, turning to look at Leo. “You wanted me to try harder- I’m trying harder! What, now you’re mad at me?” He scoffed, letting out a short laugh. Of course- of course, because Donnie couldn’t do anything right.

“Of course not! I’m just worried about you, you haven’t eaten, you don’t sleep-“

“You told me to try harder!”

Leo fell silent, his eyes widening with a sudden realization. Donnie paced in front of him, tugging at the skin on his head with a manic look in his eyes. The steps seemed to echo off the walls, a deafening sound to Leo’s ears.

”You want me to work on the cure, I’m working on the cure. Now you don’t want me to work on the cure? Make up your mind!” He said angrily, gesturing as he spoke. “You don’t get to say I’m not working hard enough then tell me I’m working too hard, that’s not how it works!”

Leo shook his head, firing back a response. “Yes I can! I can when you’re not taking care of yourself! I’m your older brother, and your leader!”

Donnie let out a loud laugh, one that seemed to reverberate around the room and drown out any other noise. When he finally calmed down, he refused to look at the other. He was seething, and his arms were tense at his sides.

“I can’t win with you! I’m expected to have all the answers and when I don’t, I’m told to try harder. I am trying! I’m trying my hardest! I do everything! Everything! You may be the leader but you don’t have half the responsibility I do! You act like you do, but you don’t/ you guys don’t even acknowledge 90% of what I do! And you want me to try harder!?” He whipped his head around, staring into Leo’s soul. He was sure at that moment if looks could kill, he’d be limbo dancing with the devil. Leo watched his younger brother stalk forward, jabbing a finger into his plastron. “How would you like to figure all this out? To be in charge of all the technology, all the vehicles, all the first aid? How would you like to be the first person everyone goes to for their problems, and the first person blamed when something goes wrong?”

Every stab of his finger felt like a knife through his heart, the weight of everything he’d done settling in like a dark cloud. Choking him, suffocating in the guilt. He was cut off anytime he tried to speak, forced to listen. Something he wasn’t used too.

“You- you tell me to try harder, like I’m not telling myself that everyday.” The jabs were losing heat, barely more than a firm poke at this point. “I know I need to find the cure. I know how much this means to Sensei. I know that we’re on a time crunch. I know because I tell myself every single day.”

He stopped, choking on his words for a moment. Leo went to open his mouth but Donnie gave him a look, clearly saying ‘I’m not finished’.

“I.. give everything to this family. Everything. And what do I get back? I’m told to try harder.” His voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper. His hand has long since dropped to his side, eyes locked to the floor as he spoke. “So go. Let me try harder. Let me redeem myself. Thats what you want, right?”

Leo wasn’t sure if he should cry or punch himself in the face. The silence enveloped them like a blanket, and for the first time in a long time, he took a long look at his brother.

The first thing he noticed was the untreated burns, blistering and swollen on the side of his head. Next were his eyes. Bloodshot. Drooping. He could see the unshed tears gathering in the corners, fighting a battle they were bound to lose. He noticed the dark circles under his eyes that stretched so far you could see them below his mask. He could see how sickly he looked, pale, almost deathly so. He looked like a shell of what he’d been even a week ago- how had Leo not noticed?

He looked around at the lab next, it was a mess. There were papers thrown all over the floor, burns, dents and scrapes on every surface. Broken parts of past machines were scattered everywhere, wires were stuffed in questionable places, and there was a box on the floor overflowing with gears. The broken toaster sat on one of his shelves, next to some hand drawn blueprints of the battle shell. With every small detail Leo felt his heart breaking, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes burned with shame, how has he never noticed before?

He finally looked back at his brother, his eyes landing on the burns once again. He felt a swell of emotion in his chest, nearly choking him with the intensity, and he realized with a start that he never answered his question.

“God- no, Donnie. I’m-“ he took a breath, closing his eyes as he collected himself. When he opened them he saw Donnie’s eyes. Narrowed. Tired. Disbelieving. “I shouldn’t have said that, okay? It was stupid, I- I realize that now. I don’t ever want to see you putting work over your own well being. That’s not what I meant.”

Donnie stayed silent, his red rimmed eyes scanning over Leo. He didn’t believe him, that much was obvious, and Leo knew that somehow he had to fix that.

“I know you don’t believe me, but just- take a break. Get some sleep. Eat something. Spend some time out of your lab, this’ll all be here when you come back to it.”

Donnie shifted on his feet, glancing back at the desk, his eyes were searching- for what, he wasn’t sure. Finally, after a terrifying minute of silence, he turned back to his brother with a small sniffle, clearly trying not to cry.

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?” He spoke softly, like all the fight had drained out of him, leaving him exhausted.

“Nope.” Leo said, giving his brother a small smile.

Donnie let out a wet laugh, one hand coming up to cover his mouth, the other resting on his desk. He gave it one last look before he turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. He stood in front of Leo, shifting on his feet with another sniff. Before he could say anything, Leo had his arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, the unsaid words obvious between the two. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I’d do anything to make this better.

Donnie froze, his body going stiff before he slowly relaxed, wrapping his arms around his carapace. The tears fell freely after that, soaking his mask and Leo’s shoulder. At some point they ended up on the floor, Donnie half in Leo’s lap but of course he didn’t mind. He sobbed, he knew things weren’t gonna be okay. He still had to find the cure, he was still the tech guy, but right now.. he was just Donnie. Being comforted by his older brother, like he used to when they were tots.

Right now, they were Donnie and Leo. Brothers before teammates. Brothers before ninjas. That’s all they needed to be.

You can also find this on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65259853

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

Text

Was I the only one who saw Clash of the Mutanimals, yk the episode where Raph got mind controlled, and went: “Yeah. We need more of that. And make it angsty”

I would hope not because there is some serious potential there, but anyway I took that and the Whumpay prompt “Used as a weapon” to create this.. lovely, beautiful abomination.

TW: Swearing, scenes of violence, blood and injuries, mind control

He felt everything.

From the moment he woke up in Baxtors lab, to fighting his brothers. He felt it all. He saw it all.

He couldn’t control himself.

And now he stood at Shredder's side, wanting nothing more than to sink these god awful claws into his neck. Claws, stained with his own brothers blood. He wanted to tear that man apart, the man who forced him to hurt his own brother. To wound him with weapons that weren’t his. But he couldn’t. His arms hung by his side, fists balled, unable to move an inch without being told he could.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood here. It could’ve been ten minutes, it could've been an hour. Shredder sat, perched on his stupid throne while he spoke. Raph didn’t register what he said, too wrapped up in his own head.

To say he was livid would be an understatement.

He still remembered the feeling of Leo’s skin tearing- the sound, god, the way it tore through his muscle with such ease it left him reeling. It was bleeding so much, and the look on his face was nothing short of devastated. He wanted to reach out, to hold him, fuck, apologize for once- but he couldn’t. He didn’t even spare Leo a second glance before he turned his sights on his younger brothers. They managed to escape before he could do any more damage. Leo.. he’d been loosing too much blood. They had to retreat and leave them all. They had to leave him.

He couldn’t blame them, he would’ve done the same thing. God- he’d been so close to getting control, but Shredder gave him one command and he had to follow through.

“Enough of these games, Raphael. End it.”

Those words bounced around his head, closely followed by Leonardo’s screams. The shouts and shrieks from his younger brothers. The horror in Mikey’s voice, lunging for their leader. Donatello’s voice, accusing, full of disbelief and fear.

”Raph! What the hell did you do?”

He couldn’t get it out of his head.

Leo’s blood was still sticky on his face, coating the gauntlets with a dark red. There was a puddle on the floor below them.

Raph wanted nothing more than to sink these claws into Shredder and he couldn’t move. He was sure he’d be stuck here for hours, plotting murderous revenge with a face blanker than paper- until he was called by the very man who caused all this.

“Raphael.” Shredder's voice was firm, but he could hear the underlying threat. It’s not like I could resist, he thought bitterly. “Why don’t you go to the lab and make yourself useful.”

He couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “Yes, master”

As it turns out, he was there to be a test subject. To make sure the brain serum was still working, still doing it’s job. Raph wanted to let out a bitter laugh. If it wasn’t working, they’d have known by now.

Nonetheless, Baxter had him strapped down. He was in no position to escape, but clearly these people had nothing better to do than take precautions. The metal was cold on his skin, the straps roughly digging into his flesh. He sat, his skin crawling with disgust and anger. The fly buzzed around the room, picking up strange tools, examining them closely before putting them down again in a seemingly unending cycle. Finally, the fly turned his attention to Raph, his beady eyes staring him down.

“Zz-stay zz-still, thizz izz going to hurt.”

When Baxter stuck a needle longer than his finger into his brain, he couldn’t scream.

——————————

He was strapped to the table. The same table as the day before. He growled, tugging harshly at the bonds but they didn’t budge, and he let out a frustrated yell.

“Now now zzz you won’t want to zzz do that.” The fly hovered a few feet away, swaying gently. In his hands he was holding a pair of tongs, within its grasp, the brain-worm wiggled around. Raphael’s eyes widened, once again thrashing in the restraints.

“Don’t you dare put that thing anywhere near me!” He screamed, his eyes were wide and he was heaving. He had gotten his control back (or had he?), and he felt nothing but anger. Of course, his internal plight did nothing to disway the bug, flying closer to him with a twitch of his head. “I’m warning you! You do that shit again and I’ll make sure to come after you first!”

“No you zzz won’t”, he held the tongs up to his head, “just zzsit zzstill.”

Raphael felt the slimey, rubber texture of the worm on his face and he almost threw up. “I’m serious- when my brothers show up you’re gonna regret this, fly-face!”

The worm held a steady course, wriggling slowly towards his ear. He could barely see it, wrinkled and gray, two black beady eyes with a sharp cone for a mouth. Raph’s body tensed up, his hands opening and closing around nothing. His eyes were wide and panicked, his breaths came out in harsh gasps, he couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t-

The worm's head dug into his ear canal, and he screamed. Its body was thick, pulsating and too hot. He was on fire. Like he’d just poured molten lava inside of his head, letting it seep in slowly. It wormed its way deeper and deeper into his skull, every passing second felt just like torture. Every inch was agonizing, every twitch sending bolts of pain into his brain. The sharp head pushed past his eardrum, bursting it without mercy, sending painful fireworks throughout his body. It was hot and sharp, pulsing and too tight, sliding deeper and deeper into the parts of his brain he’d never felt before. The tail end finally entered his head, and he almost threw up at the sensation. It felt like a rod was being shoved through his skull, into his brain, sliding, biting, crawling- and then it was gone.

The pain.

The pressure.

…

His control.

——————————

Raphael awoke in his bed. He’d been given a room by the dungeons. Plain. Nothing more than a bed and a dresser. (He knew it was because they didn’t trust him. They had him trapped under their control, and they still didn’t trust him. God, they were more paranoid than Donnie.)

His eyes were blank, as always. He stretched his arms above his head, pops and cracks filling the air. It felt good, but his face was cold and blank. Finally he stood, shaking out his arms to loosen the joints. Every tendon ached, his muscles hurt, and his skin was smattered with purples and blues but Raph didn’t care. If anything it was nice, familiar.

Slash and Rockwell had escaped about five days ago- somehow, he wasn’t sure about the specifics- they’d broken through the mind control. Of course, Raph was sent to stop them with strict orders not to hold back. Slash was lucky enough to send him to the floor, giving the two just enough time to get away. Raphael had been a demon during the attack, taking every available opportunity, hitting every weak point, and he would’ve won. He was thankful he didn’t.

He had hoped they would go get his brothers. He remembered that night, locked in his room, left to deal with his wounds on his own, but he was hopeful. He thought they’d come back for him, that this never ending torture could finally be over. He waited all night. Then all day. And the next. And the next. And the next. Over and over, he went to bed hoping tonight would be the night. He told himself he just had to be patient. So he waited. And waited. And waited.

Their rescue never came.

He’s since resigned himself to this fate, but a small part of him was glad Slash and Rockwell weren’t trapped anymore. Even if a bigger part of him was jealous of their freedom.

His brain was on autopilot while he got ready, using a familiar wrapping technique with unfamiliar cloth. The last two weeks had been slow. He fought the Shredder too many times to count, and he always lost. Every fight with Rahzar, he lost. Every fight with Fish-Face, he lost. He always lost.

(The irony wasn’t lost on him. All he could do was wait, hope for a rescue, and lose to his enemies. He hated it.)

Sometimes he was sent on missions- recon, nothing more. Sometimes he got to kick some robot butt, taking all his anger out on the kraang droids. Sometimes he’d go on these missions and he knew his brothers had been there. Maybe it was a lingering smell, a wrapper from Mikey’s favourite gum, or a footprint in the dirt. The most obvious signs were destroyed kraang bots, show casing familiar cuts in the metal, courtesy of Leo’s katana’s. Or, less obvious, were the blunt marks from Mikey’s nunchucks and Donnie’s Bo staff. Every time he’d stand for a second, haunted with the knowledge that he had missed them by minutes. He was so close to seeing them again. No matter how much it hurt, he prayed that he never would- not when he was like this.

At the end of the day, id didn’t matter what he did, his night was always the same. He had to go to stupid Stockmans lab to get a stupid needle jammed into his skull, pumping a stupid purple solution into his brain until he felt woozy and numb.

It was a shitty schedule if you asked him.

He looked at the clock (the only non essential thing he had in the room), his eyebrows furrowing. He was due to start training in ten minutes, with whom, he wouldn’t know until he got there.

He looked down, unsurprised to see that he was almost ready. All he had left was the final touches. A black mask designed like his own, and the stupid pair of gauntlets that were still bloody. He tied the mask around his head with such hatred he almost ripped the fabric in half. Finally, he slid the awful yet familiar tools onto his hands, gripping the metal tightly in his palm.

He walked out of the room, slowly making his way to the training room. He pushed open the door, unsurprisingly, Fish-Face stood in the centre. The mutant had his hands together, raising one mechanical leg in the air. Was he doing.. yoga? Raph would’ve doubled over laughing, making fun of him and mocking the position if he could’ve, but whatever. He didn’t dare say anything (as if he could), and the fish enjoyed taunting him a little too much. Raph didn’t need to add anymore fuel to the fire.

“Here comes the turtle,” he mocked, grinning ear to ear. Raphael internally rolled his eyes, right on cue. “Bad sleep? Or are those just bruises from our last session?”

Raphael narrowed his eyes, but part of the action wasn’t his. He could feel his blood boiling under his skin, the anger screaming at him to let it out. He cracked his neck, holding the claws up in front of him. “Are we doing this or what?” He snapped, his face startlingly blank. Across from him Fish-Face smirked, the fight was on.

Raph would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy these sessions. He couldn’t land any life threatening hits, nor could he go for the face- but they never said anything about legs. He could kick them as much or as hard as he wanted, and a part of him knew that Leo would’ve been proud of his form. It was the small things like that which made this terrible experience bearable. Besides, he could use this to stay fit. So what if he got beat up in the process? It was nothing new.

As per usual, Fish-Face won, but not without some painful roundhouse kicks, flying back kicks, and a wicked axe kick on Raph’s part. It was during one of his jump kicks where both feet were off the ground when the stupid fish managed to throw him off balance, pinning him to the floor in seconds. He struggled, thrashing under his grip for a minute before he stopped, growling angrily. Fish-Face got off and gloated for what must've been the fifth time this week.

“Too easy. Are you even trying to fight back, turtle?” He laughed, watching the shorter man pull himself off the floor silently. “How the mighty have fallen..” he grinned, his eyes hiding something dark and malicious.

Raphael once again stayed silent, he didn’t talk back. He couldn’t. He didn’t roll his eyes. He just stared at him, blankly, waiting for his next order. He was mad, god knows he wanted to scream and attack the mutant, but he couldn’t even ball his fists. The fish sighed wistfully, enjoying this mental defeat of his personal nemesis. With a small chuckle, he began turning away.

“Master Shredder has a mission for you,” he started, walking off. Raphael, of course, followed him. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, after all, you’ll get to see your brothers again.” He said it sadistically, a dark gleam in his eye that made Raph uneasy. What were they going to make him do? Lead them to the lair? Kill his father? Fight his brothers, again? Fat fucking chance. He’d rather kill himself before he let any of that happen.

“What does he need me to do?” He asked, monotone. He gave no reaction to the mention of his brothers. He wanted to scream. It had been two weeks since he saw them- since he hurt Leo. Two weeks of no contact, no autonomy, just guilt and anger. He was losing his mind. But the prospect of going back.. he was terrified, what if he couldn’t break out of this control? What if he hurt them? What if he killed them?

What would he do then?

“What do you think? Find and kill your family, of course.”

Raphael’s mind seemed to go blank. He should’ve expected that answer. Of course, they’d want him to eliminate his family. They were the Shredder's greatest enemies- and without family, Raph wouldn’t have anything to fight for. He’d be stuck as a mindless slave for eternity and his brothers would be gone. Raph would’ve paled, would’ve stopped walking and punched the daylights out of that stupid, pathetic excuse of a fish, but he couldn’t. He was drowning, trapped within his own body.

“When do I leave?”

The words were strange, foreign on his tongue. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to rip out the worm, choke it out. He wanted to smash his head against a wall until it was dead, dig his fingers into his skull and pull out the carcass. Fish-Face stopped and looked back at the turtle, almost like he knew exactly what he had been thinking. “Dusk.” He said, happily. He sounded like a kid showing his parents the ’A’ he got on his English paper. But no, he was cheerfully explaining when they expected Raph to kill his brothers.

The fish turned to look at him, his magenta arms crossing over his white chest. “Don’t worry, we know exactly where they’ll be. And you’ll know exactly what you have to do.”

——————————

Raphael hated this plan.

He wanted to scratch off the foot insignia, burn his mask, scrub his face clean of any paint and blast the stupid claws with fire until they were nothing but a red hot pile of metal.

He was crouched in the corner of a rooftop- one he and his brothers frequented during their patrols. He didn’t know the details, but somehow Shredder knew they’d be here. He’d sent Raph, an army of foot bots, Fish-Face and Rahzar to confront the turtles. They were all waiting, the foot bots blending easily into the shadows, Fish-Face and Rahzar waiting for their cue somewhere else. Raphael might have been tucked in a corner, but he wasn’t hiding. (He wished he was).

He didn’t know how long he stood there with his hands sweating, his feet aching from crouching in one spot for so long, and his heart- beating so fast he could feel it in his fingertips. Then he heard it, their laughter. Raphael’s eyes narrowed but his mind was screaming turn around! Don’t come any closer! Pick a different roof- please, don’t make me hurt you!

He should’ve known it was futile. When has the universe ever been on his side?

His eyes scanned the bodies as they flipped onto the roof, noting every detail. Leonardo’s arm, bandaged from the wound he had given him. Raph noticed that he looked stressed- tired, like every step was one step closer to pulling him into the ground for good. Raphael didn’t like seeing him like this- it wasn’t the fearless he knew. Donatello was looking down at some sort of tracking device, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He held a hand up to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully. Raph knew he was tired, he was just better at hiding it. Finally, his eyes slid over to the youngest turtle. Mikey. Michelangelo. He looked the happiest out of all of them but there was still something so- wrong. He had a smile but it looked fake, he laughed, but it sounded forced. He was bouncing around the rooftop but it was too… Animated. Everything about this picture was wrong. They all looked wrong. And- god, he had to kill them.

”You got anything?” Leo asked, Raph's eyes snapped back to the eldest. Leo, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, speaking to Donnie with a tone just short of helpless.

“Nothing,” Donnie muttered, closing his eyes before putting both hands over them, digging the appendages into the sockets. He pulled them off before turning back to Leo. “We’ve been searching for weeks, and I can’t find anything! This thing is useless!”

Mikey jumped over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t say that, D.” He said softly, patting him. “We’re close, I know it.” Raph could feel his heart breaking, his fingers twitching in anticipation.

Oh, Mikey, you don’t know how close you are.

“We’ll find him.” He smiled, but Donnie looked less than comforted. Mikey pulled away, shrugging nonchalantly. “Besides, Raph can’t get away from us that easily.”

Donnie looked at the floor and Leo sighed. Evidently, the joke didn’t land. Mikey’s tone was too forced- too happy, his laugh made Raph’s heart drop to his stomach, and he let out a sharp breath.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Donnie said.

Leo spoke up from where he’d been standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe it’s just the wind, but.. did you guys hear anything?”

Raph’s heart stopped beating for a second. Had he heard him? No, there was no way, he should’ve been to far away- but then why ask that question? Could he hear the breathing, the shifting? Could he feel their presence? Their eyes, locked onto the three turtles?

“Nope,” Mikey said, popping the p. He pulled out his nunchucks, spinning one of them lazily. “But if there is anyone, we’re gonna kick their butt!”

Donnie frowned from next to him, tucking the device into his pocket. “Why do you ask, Leo?”

He watched his older brother scan the rooftop, every nook and cranny until Leo was staring right at him. Raphael’s breathing hitched, even if he knew it was dark and you could barely make out his features, you could still see his milky white eyes. A stark contrast to the black shadows. He didn’t know if Leo knew it was him, but whatever he thought was enough for him to pull out his katanas, much to the others confusion. Raph watched as a small wince pulled across Leo’s face, he was clearly favouring his right side. Raph wanted to kill Shredder. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to scream that this was a trap- that they needed to leave- but he stayed silent, perfectly still, barely breathing.

“Because we’re being watched.”

Within a second Donnie had pulled out his bo staff, his brothers switching into defensive positions within the next. All of them were looking directly at him. He watched their eyes go white, narrowing in suspicion. Leonardo stepped forward, pointing one of his Katana’s in Raph's direction. Fuck- fuck, he didn’t want to do this, he couldn’t hurt them, no, no, no no NO-

He couldn’t do anything but sit back and watch.

“Reveal yourself, before we make you.” Leo snarled. If Raph wasn’t worried for their safety, he’d make fun of the corny line, unfortunately, he was worried. Also unfortunately, he couldn’t say it even if he wanted too.

Raph felt his body standing up, coming out of his crouched, contorted position. The claws reached his knees, the steel shimmering in the moonlight. His head was tilted towards the ground, his mouth pulling into a familiar smirk. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck before he looked up.

His eyes were green.

“Looking for me?” He said snarkily, just enough that it sounded normal. He watched his brothers relax, before they stopped, noticing exactly what Raph was wearing.

His brown belt had been replaced with black leather, small pouches along the side containing the foots throwing stars. His wraps were all black. He wore spiked shoulder pads and arm bands on both biceps. There was black war paint on his face, two stripes on each cheek. It outlined the black mask perfectly, nothing like his signature red. He still wore his gauntlets, shiny, clean and gleaming. Perhaps worst of all was the black foot insignia on his upper left plastron. It was the best paint they had, water resistant, it shouldn't chip, it was damn near indestructible. The closest thing they could get to a brand without hurting him. To carry that mark in front of his brothers made his skin crawl in shame.

Raphael watched their reactions, horror, confusion, fear, worry, suspicion and disgust. They were disgusted in him. He chuckled. He was disgusted in himself too.

“Raph-!?” Leo gasped, his sword dropping. His blue eyes were wide with shock and horror, sputtering in pure disbelief. The older turtle took a step back, scanning the outfit once, twice, and a third time for good measure, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Yeah, you and me both, fearless.

Mikey let out a horrified gasp, his mouth hanging open. He watched his younger brother's eyes scan the outfit, his mouth slowly closing before he gulped, shifting uncomfortably. Raph saw the fear swimming in those baby blues, and it hurt. It felt like he was stabbed right through the chest, but he kept smirking.

Worst of all, perhaps, was Donnie, because his reaction was nothing short of disgusted. His mouth pulled up into a sneer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He looked so disappointed in him, disappointed in what happened. He knew he was worried, he knew Donnie, but god if his face didn’t twist the knife.

He found himself laughing, a dark, sadistic laugh that sounded nothing like him.

“Take a picture,” he drawled, holding the gauntlets up in front of him as he kept speaking. “It’ll last longer.”

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed. His sword held higher, his feet shifting in place.

“Raph- come on man, this isn’t you!” Mikey yelled from next to him, a desperate look in his eyes. Raph wanted nothing more than to hug him but he couldn’t. His breath stuttered in his chest, the cue swirling around in his mind. His eyes went white, now was the time.

“The old Raph is dead, he can’t stop this. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll put down the weapons to make this easier for all of us.”

Right on cue the hidden ninjas emerged from their hiding spots, quickly surrounding the three turtles. He nearly gagged, screaming and clawing at his mind in vain. He was trying desperately to move his hands, shut himself up, drop the gauntlets- anything, but nothing happened. Nothing was working. He was still here and he couldn’t fucking do anything.

The three were instantly back in ninja mode, their stance tighter, their weapons clenched in their hands.

“We’d rather die than do that.” Leo said coldly.

“Then die.”

Just like that, everyone attacked. He saw Rahzar and Fish-Face attack Mikey and Donnie. Raphael rushed forward to meet Leonardo, their weapons clanging together, sending sparks through the air. He grit his teeth, hooking the katana Leo held with his bad arm into the claws, twisting the sword out of his hand. He didn’t waste any time before kicking him square in the plastron, sending him back. He watched the foot bots rush in, keeping him distracted while Raph scanned the chaotic rooftop. Shredder had told him which turtle to kill first; the smartest. Donnie was the only one who could come up with a potential cure for the brainworm. If he was dead, well, that solved that problem. He could easily take him down, it was no hidden fact that he was the weakest fighter, even if he was probably the strongest player on the board.

Raph knew once Donnie was dead, they’d fall like flies.

He wanted to stab himself when he locked eyes with his immediate younger brother, currently fighting off Fish-Face. He dodged attack after attack, managing to land a few hits of his own. Raph would’ve been proud, if he wasn’t terrified.

Logically, he knew this wasn’t their first fight, that his brothers were great ninjas, but there was something different. This time, there was no hesitation, no worry over the serum failing, no qualms about taking a life. Instead, it was replaced with bloodlust and the solid belief that Raph was under their control.

“Oi, Xever!” Raph barked out, holding the gauntlets out to his side. Fish-Face looked back and smirked, he grabbed Donatello’s Bo staff mid swing, using the momentum to throw him in Raph’s direction.

Donnie landed with a solid thud, but was immediately back on his feet. He swayed, clutching his staff with both hands. He could see the slight tremble in them, the hesitation in his form. Donnie didn’t want to fight him, he could tell, but he didn’t have a choice.

Raph grinned like a shark, wide, nothing but teeth and malicious intent.

He chuckled lowly, “Come on Donnie.. drop the staff. Fighting back is going to make this so much worse.”

He wanted to punch himself in the face.

Donnie was scared, but his gaze hardened. “No thanks, I quite like my odds actually.”

Raphael shrugged, smirking. “Suit yourself.”

The next thing he knew, he was lunging at him, swinging his blades at his face. Donnie ducked, and it was back and forth from there on.

Raph would swing, Donnie would duck. Donnie would retaliate, trying to sweep his feet out from under him or knock him off balance, Raph would avoid it. Their dance was familiar, but this was nothing like training in the dojo.

He could see the sweat on Donnie’s face the longer they fought, he could hear the grunts and screams from the battle around them, but he never relented.

At some point, Donnie managed to knock off his right gauntlet, sending it flying somewhere behind them. Raph cheered in his head, but he knew his luck would only last for so long. All it would take is one mistake, and Donnie would be done.

Across the rooftop, Mikey screamed. Donnie had been in the middle of attempting a hit to his side. The white eyes immediately snapped back to Donnie’s reddish brown, scanning the roof to find their little brother. He was distracted, and Raph ripped the staff out of his hands, sweeping it under his feet before he could even blink.

Donnie hit the ground with a thud, looking back at Raph before he managed to push himself up. Raph looked over him, hitting the button he knew would release Donnie’s blade. Donnie was scrambling backwards, trying to get up. He could hear Leo shouting in the distance, Mikey’s pained cries, the sound of something snapping, but all he could see was the fear on Donnie’s face while he stalked towards him.

“Raph- Raph, come on man, don’t do this,” he begged, his voice shaking. Raph took another dangerous step forward, his face blank. He raised the weapon, slashing it down. He was going for the face, but Donnie’s left arm came up to block it. Raph watched the back of his forearm get cut open, he heard Donnie’s yell. He paused, and that was just enough time for Donnie’s legs to shoot out, kicking him back with a surprising amount of force. He dropped to a knee, watching his brother scramble back, getting to his feet quickly. He held the bleeding arm to his plastron, covering it with his other arm. His breaths came out in short puffs, god, there was so much blood-

Raphael growled, throwing the staff to the side before he tackled his brother to the ground. He managed to get on top of him, straddling his stomach before he started punching him. He landed blow after blow after blow. His face, his neck, his arms, his chest- wherever he could reach. Donnie cried out with every hit, trying to cover his body as best as he could.

“Raph- stop-“ he gasped, before another punch connected with his cheek. He was shaking under him, staring at him with terror filled eyes. He couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, all he could hear was the sickening smack of his fist connecting to Donnie’s flesh.

“Raphael-!”

Another punch.

“Please- stop-“

An elbow to the nose, a loud crunch filling the air.

“Raph-“

A punch to the arm.

“RAPH!”

A punch connecting with his temple.

“STOP IT! STOP-“

A hammer fist to the chest, slamming it down as hard as he could.

“Please..”

Raph ignored the broken sob, grabbing Donnie’s head with his right hand. He pulled it up, locking eyes with his younger brother before he smashed his skull into the ground.

Donnie stopped begging after that.

He didn’t know how much longer he spent beating the shit out of him, what happened to the rest of the fight, or what happened to his other brothers. He did know that after a while he paused, his chest heaving, his mind blank with horror. He stared down at his brother and almost threw up.

Donnie’s face was mangled, his nose was busted, and there was a pool of blood under his head. Both of his eyes were swollen, his lip split open, and he had a cut above the purple mask. His entire face was almost unrecognizable. Even worse than what happened with Slash. Bruises were already showing up on every inch of his skin from the face down. His arm was still bleeding, he was pretty sure he broke some of his ribs.

He sat there, breathing heavily while Donnie groaned under him. He raised his fist again and he watched Donnie flinch weakly, whimpering. The sound broke Raphael’s heart.

“R-..aph..” he stuttered out, trying to focus his eyes but they were spinning, everything was spinning. “S-top… you-you’re hurting m-me..” He inhaled sharply, coughing. He could’ve been crying. Raph couldn’t tell with all the blood.

“Raphie.. p-lease, please…”

Raph almost cried, the hatred he felt for himself was so strong he almost threw up. Except- he was actually going to throw up. He stumbled off his brother, dropping a few feet away. He was holding a blood covered hand over his mouth, it filled with saliva and a horrible red hot pain shot from his head to his toes. He gagged, his eyes watering at the sheer force of it before he was retching. Something was coming up, but it wasn’t his dinner. He gagged again, dry heaving for a few seconds before he felt something thick in his throat. Choking and coughing, it took a few seconds for it to come out. He shivered, gasping for air as he looked down.

There lied the worm. His eyes widened, his hands twitching- he was hyperventilating. He didn’t hesitate before he brought his gauntlets down onto the bug, slicing it up before smashing the remaining body with his fist. He didn’t stop until it was mush and tears blocked his vision. That’s when he heard his brothers voice, but it wasn’t Donnie.

“Raph..?”

He snapped his head up- Mikey, oh god-

He looked horrible. His nose was busted, and he was holding his left arm. It was bent the wrong way, probably broken. He limped towards him, fuck, he probably had a broken leg too-

“Mikey..” he choked out, stretching a hand out towards his younger brother. He got up, rushing over before he gave him a long hug, careful not to aggravate his wounds too much. He knew he was covered in blood, he could feel it, but he didn’t care. Mikey was alive- hurt, yes, but alive. They didn’t kill him. He pulled back, staring at Mikey with a heartbroken expression.

“Fuck- Mikey, I’m so sorry.”

Mikey’s eyes were wet, and he brushed the tears away with a small sniffle. He gave him a weak grin, less fake than the one he had on earlier. “It’s okay dude, you were totally being controlled by that worm thing.”

Raph choked, holding his brothers good shoulder. He brought his other hand up, realizing with horror that he still had the gauntlet on. He immediately took it off, tossing it to the side. With that out of the way, he brought the hand up to cup his brothers cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb.

”I’m so sorry little brother,” he said quietly. Mikey leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Raph almost broke down into tears right then and there, but managed to restrain himself. He leaned forward, touching their foreheads together. Mikey reached his good hand up to grab the hand on his shoulder, hiccuping softly.

Eventually Raph pulled away, but before he could even think about what to say, Mikey was already talking. “You should probably check on Donnie, dude,” He sniffed, stepping back from Raph with a small wince. “You- um, got him pretty good.”

Raph stopped, his eyes widening. He mentally chided himself for forgetting about the brother he just beat up before he was turning around, rushing over to Donnie. He wasn’t sure if Mikey followed. He barely made out the figure of his older brother sitting next to the mangled body before he collapsed, his hands hovering over the bloodied chest.

“Donnie, oh god,” he choked, pulling his hands back like he got burnt. “What the fuck did I do?”

You can also find this on Ao3 :P

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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Whatever you do, make sure you turn down the volume

Get a song rec by choosing a color.

🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟪

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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I’m both. It gets a little confusing but it’s okay

The two types of Jason Grace fans

#jason grace #hoo #rrverse #my boi #he deserved better #he’s just a little guy #in the trenches #it’s fine

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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people coming into the pjo fandom need to understand that we multi ship like there's no tmr. Of course we love percabeth but also we love piperbeth and ofc jiper was nice while it lasted but there's piper and shel and oh jercys cute too and valgrace should've been cannon oh but valangelo is fun but yk you can't forget about solangelo, and frazel is so wholesome but so is the enemies to lovers valzhang and and-

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fandomfangirlfanatic · 2 months ago

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Anyone remember when Sirius played that prank on Snape and almost got him killed? Yeah..

So I wrote a little thing about it and I figured, why not post it here?

Warning: Suicidal thoughts/ideations, and swearing

He wanted to say he was drunk.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“He couldn’t control wether or not he listened.”

But he wouldn’t.. he couldn’t, he knew he was stone cold sober. He knew he’d given it too much thought to even try to pass it off as a joke. He debated telling him before he made up his mind, while he was walking to meet him. Hell, he was still debating it while he told him where to go for the next full moon.

He didn’t think it would be this bad.

His intention was never to get Snape hurt- Sirius genuinely believed that he would’ve stayed hidden and just watched.

…

He never thought he would be staring at Snape, a single bloody scratch on his arm, scared.. hell, he looked terrified. And he was glaring daggers at Remus, a scowl plastered on his face.

He’d have been dead if James hadn’t intervened and saved him. Sirius didn’t even try to help, he just stood there, like an idiot.

…

James yelled at him, a lot. Which was fine. He could handle yelling.. if he could handle his parents, he could handle this. And he knew, he knew he fucked up, so he didn’t say anything. What could he say?

Peter didn’t talk to him much anymore, (no one did) but he didn’t glare daggers at him either.

Remus though? His reaction had to have been the worst. He hasn’t spoken to him in days, not since he found out- not since he told him to get out of the infirmary the morning after. He’s been giving him the silent treatment, avoiding him, refusing to talk to him no matter what Sirius does.

He won’t even look at him for fucks sake.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He does know- it’s only fair. Because of something he did, Remus attacked Snape, and his boyfriend needed his own space to deal with that. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling so.. alone.

He hadn’t felt this way in a while, not at school at least, but now..? He was eating meals alone in the great hall, he had to listen to Remus, James, and Peter talking for hours, laughing, planning pranks, studying, and he couldn’t say anything, because if he did? They’d all shut up. No one would answer him. On the rare occasion they did answer him- it was always school related, short, clipped, and straight to the point. Still, it was obvious they wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere but here, with Sirius.

They weren’t the only ones who knew. Lily, Marlene- bell, even Mary found out about it, and they wouldn’t talk to him either. Fucking Regulus, his own brother was disappointed in him. He’d made a point to stop talking to him, making it clear that he stood behind Remus.

His own brother picked his best friend over him.

Which brought him to now.

He was sitting at the edge of the astronomy tower, like he had for the past two nights, his feet dangling in the frigid, cold air.

It would be better for everyone, right? His best friends (could he even call them that anymore?) acted like they hated him. his boyfriend refused to talk to him. His brother was apathetic and disappointed, even strangers refused to talk to him.

He fucked up, big time, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fix it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to talk to Remus again. To have James look at him with a mischievous grin, rather than a disappointed scowl. To talk to his brother without the prank being brought up, held over his head like a weapon.

He stared, looking at the ground. Would it hurt to die? Probably. But once you’re falling, he supposed, there’s no going back.

He wondered if it would be instant, or if he’d have to endure unimaginable agony until he died.

He snorted to himself, laughing softly. He dropped his head, letting it hang down by his chest. It’s not like he wouldn’t deserve it.. the pain. Maybe it could make up for what he did, even if it’s just a few minutes.

He didn’t notice tears falling down his face until his shoulders were shaking. He clutched onto the side of the floor, his vision blurred while he looked out at the night.

It hurt.

Loneliness hurts.

Even though he knew he messed up- he wanted to forget it. He wanted to laugh and joke with his friends, plan stupid pranks to pull on Snivelus. He wanted to gossip with the girls, have a place to sit at meals, to be the class clown again.. he wanted his friends back. He wanted the love, the affection he was so used to having. He wanted his brother back.

He wanted Remus to look at him. Even if it was with hate, or anger, or annoyance- he couldn’t handle the silent treatment anymore. He just wanted him to acknowledge that he existed, that maybe he was having a bad time too, to know that the guilt Sirius felt was so overwhelming it was the only thing he could think about, ever. He wanted his boyfriend. But he knew he had to give him space.

It was a little hard to say any of that when every time he tried, he was shut down. He’d almost reverted to begging Remus to yell at him, just let all his anger out- hit him even, maybe that would make them both feel better- but he hadn’t got past opening his mouth before Remus had got up and left the room.

They made it clear nothing Sirius could ever do would fix this, or speed up whatever grieving- or healing they had to do. Everyone had to come around on their own terms.

He wasn’t sure he’d be here when that happened.

Sirius knew the prank didn’t hurt him, it didn’t mess with him, scare him, traumatize him, or risk expulsion- but he’s been stripped of everyone he cared about. He’s been banished from social situations, temporarily banned from being a marauder, and shamed for giving the Gryffindor students a bad name- by everyone that knew what happened, at least.. by more people than he would’ve liked.

He felt bad for himself, he did. Even if he knew he deserved it- he wanted them all back so badly.

“I really fucked up this time, didn’t I, Moony?”

He choked out, staring at the bright, white ball in the sky. He sniffed, rubbing the tears off his cheeks, blinking harshly.

It was getting late, he ought to head back inside. Even if he knew nothing good was waiting for him, even if he knew it meant enduring another day of silence, contempt, and loneliness. Even if he knew he’d end up back here the next night, waiting until he gained the strength to jump..

He got up and went back inside, because maybe- maybe today Remus would look at him without scowling. Maybe James would give him a friendly grin. Maybe Peter would say more than a word to him. Maybe his brother would talk to him again.

Maybe.

God, it sounded stupid- but maybe was all he had, it was the only thing he could hang on too. So with the promise of a new day and another chance for a maybe, he dragged himself back to the common room. His steps were quiet as he climbed the stairs, not a single person noticing his absence or return. As he slipped under the covers, he did his best to fight off the loneliness threatening to consume him.

Hope you enjoyed! You can also find this on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64891168

#marauders #sirius black #remus x sirius #james potter #sirius and regulus #james & peter & remus & sirius #harry potter #angst #emotional angst #idk how to tag this #uhhh yeah #??? idk #he is not having a good time #writing

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