#Irma Langstein

[fnibbit-fanart]

I hope my favorite human characters appear in the spin-off show of mutant mayhem :)

[starsfic]

More of my TMNT incarnation!

-_-

Meeting in the lab. Now.

Soon enough, everyone else was filling up the lab. “What’s going on, April?” Leo said, eyeing the back of the chair facing them. “I was in the middle of practicing my portals!”

“I’m glad you’re all here,” The chair turned, revealing April, hands steepled together. “I need to talk to you about Splinter.”

Mikey held up a hand. “The rat? Or Pops?”

“...Pops, Mikey.” April stood up and marched over to one of Donnie’s blackboards. She grabbed a piece of chalk and began to write, creating a large heading. WHAT DOES SPLINTER KNOW? She turned and eyed them all. “I think Splinter knows something about Lou Jitsu.”

There was silence.

“Uh...yeah. He’s the biggest Lou Jitsu fan to exist!” Leo said. Immediately, the lab was filled with everyone nodding and chiming in with agreement.

“I know that!” April protested. “It’s more than that!” How best to explain this? “Ever since you guys told him about Lou Jitsu being your dad, he’s been acting weird, especially around me! He thinks I know something!”

Raph raised a hand this time. “Do you know something?”

“No! That’s the issue!”

Irma waved her hand before beginning to sign. “Maybe you’re overthinking this. He probably has a gift for someone-”

“NOPE! I checked that!” April started to scrawl on the chalkboard, listing out dates. “Raph and Casey’s birthdays were last month,” The partners fistbumped. “Donnie and Leo’s isn’t for another three months, Mikey’s birthday was when we found out about Lou Jitsu and…” She placed a question mark next to her and Irma’s names. “I don’t think we’re close enough for him to give us a gift. Plus I don’t think he knows our birthdays. And we’re in June. There isn’t going to be another gift-giving holiday for another few months!” She scratched out the last dates on the list.

Donnie hummed before strolling up. “Why do you think this is about Lou Jitsu?” He grabbed a piece of chalk, ready to list her points down.

April grinned. “First off, he’s been jumpy whenever a Lou Jitsu movie is on. Second,” She began to pace. “He’s been locking up a lot of the Do Not Touch stuff in his room.” April had walked in on him holding the actual cabinet. Splinter had given her fifty bucks to not ask about it. “Third, have you noticed how weird he is about Lou Jitsu trivia? Specifically, dates?” Donnie had told her many stories of Splinter raging at the media for mixing up dates in Lou Jitsu’s life. There were chimes and nods of agreement.

“And fourth…” April took the lead in writing this. “What do we know about him? I mean, really.” Silence once again descended. “...really? I thought this would be the first one with evidence against it.”

“Uh…” Raph finally spoke up, eyes squeezed shut. “I know he immigrated from Japan when he was a kid but he never said from where or when.” He sighed. “I asked him once, when we were little, if we had any other family, and the way he looked-” Raph’s eyes closed. April reached out mentally.

Sadness met her.

“I don’t think he has anyone but us.”

“Oh! And he was married!” Mikey’s grin was strained but it worked.

April cut off the mental link to instead stare. “Wait, really?” She had never heard this before. Neither had Casey or Irma, based on how their eyes widened. “What happened to him?” None of them had ever mentioned another father and she had seen Splinter’s room. No sign of anyone else taking up the space.

“We think they divorced when Pops got us?” Leo said, scratching his head as he thought. “Or maybe he left? Or Pops left him? I don’t know, he was kinda vague about it the one time he talked about it.” He gestured to his neck. “He used to wear this wedding band around his neck until Mike tried to eat it. Then he put it in the Do Not Touch cabinet and we’ve never seen it since.”

…wait. “When he got you?” That was the perfect lead-in!

“Yes, yes, Pops got us-” Donnie paused. “Oh.” His eyes widened. “Oh!” April nodded with the realization, glad someone had caught on. He whirled to the rest of the group to proclaim “We don’t know how Pops got us!”

The dots were connecting. The turtles had either been too young or too freshly mutated to walk when the lab fire had happened, according to Draxum. Somehow, however, they had escaped. Somehow, they had ended up with Splinter. Which meant one thing.

Lou Jitsu had managed to survive the lab fire.

At least, long enough to pass the turtles off.

“So Pops had to know Lou Jitsu!” Raph said, jumping to his feet and making everyone jolt. He started to pace, muttering to himself. “They probably knew each other personally, enough that he felt safe leaving us in his care. But not so personal that if Draxum came looking he wouldn’t know to put him on the list! That’s why Pops is so locked down on his info!”

“Waaaait. Wait, wait, hold up,” Casey held their hands up in the timeout position. “For all we know, this could be a giant coincidence! Draxum could be lying about knowing Lou Jitsu!”

He hadn’t.

April knew.

During the fight on the docks, as they watched the guys beat up the mutants, she had read him. There was anger and determination there, yes. But there had been a familiar sensation, one April knew well.

Grief, huge enough to split a heart in two.

[generationsworktmnt]

Intro Post!

This is my own iteration called Generations Work. It's about the turtles undoing the wrongs that their ancestors did that caused the Foot and Hamato rivalry, and the Kraang targeting them. Only instead of time travel it's with mystic powers. They overcome obstacles, meet their closest friends, and face their greatest enemies.

First up, trigger warnings. This iteration will include major and minor character death, corruption, possession, loss of limbs, comas, canon typical violence, child abuse, and descriptive mutation scenes.

Our first main characters are:

Donnie, Leo, Raph, Mikey, Casey Jones, April O'Neil, and Irma Langstein.

More main characters, side characters amd villians will be revealed during the story.

This will be more of a writing blog than a art/comic one but each main character, and some inportant side characters, will be getting posts of their own with art of what they look like.

There will be romantic relationships in this iteration, I will not reveal them yet though as they are important to the storyline and revealing them would be giving spoilers.

Many characters that are seen in only one canon iteration have been included, along with fun backstories, sad backstories, amd angsty backstories.

The few posts will be character posts thwn we'll get into the story!

[starrosefics-archive]

Hunted

Summary: Part of episode Grand Nexus Hotel: (The turtles and CJ stalk out a mysterious hotel when hearing rumors of Baron Draxum stalking around the area. At the same hotel, April is making her first business deal for her mother’s company with Irma as backup. Will the two groups be ensnared in the mysterious web of the hotel owner Big Mama?) 

April and Irma are being hunted while trying to find their friends.

Notes: I think I mentioned I had the idea of a TMNT incarnation while writing some yandere stuff inspired by @purble-turble‘s dark spicynoodles/shadowpeach. I forgot about it and then remembered and decided to finish this section.

-_-

There was the scrabble of claws, right outside the sitting room.

April reacted on instinct. She grabbed Irma’s wrist and immediately dragged her behind the couch. She tried to keep her breathing even and was relieved as Irma started doing the same. In the room, something big was looking around. She could hear it sniffing.

She could sense the bloodlust as it drew closer to the couch.

Mentally, she started to weave a shield- which was mostly her thinking desperately We aren’t here. You can’t find us over and over again. This strategy had never worked when her and Donnie were running experiments. So, as she mentally ran the chant through her head, she tried to think of something else. The image of a bubble around her and Irma popped into her mind.

April focused her will, imagining that bubble of safety around them. She could almost feel the surface of it. 

We aren’t here. You can’t find us. 

Shield, shield, shield. 

We aren’t here. You can’t find us...

There was a snort and then a soft howl before the scrabble of claws signaled the creature’s exit. April blinked, she and Irma sharing looks. “Is it gone?” her friend signed. She shrugged before carefully popping her head out.

Empty.

“I think so.” she signed back, sitting back down. She was suddenly very tired. This whoe entire night was not going as planned. There was a ding and she made a noise, pulling out her phone. “It’s from Leo!” she signed, pulling up the message.

It was a spider emoji.

April showed the message to Irma, raising a brow in confusion. “Why is he…?” A second later, RUN popped up. The two of them stared at it. A thought struck April and she whimpered. She thought back to standing in Big Mama’s office, feeling like a fly...

Big Mama? She typed back. Irma raised a brow.

A second later, there was a thumbs-up emoji.

Before either of them could react, the couch was suddenly thrown aside. April whimpered again. They had forgotten to check the hallway. 

The two of them craned their necks in unison to meet the eyes of the massive dog.

“Good boy?” April tried.

[angstsplatter]

Rot

Fandom: TMNT 2012

Summary: Down in the Kraang dungeons where the discarded prisoners are dumped and kept barely alive just in case they're needed again, a girl sits in her cell. A ficlet.

Author’s Comments: A bunny that never left me, which I’m finally following up on as I catch up on the new TMNT and its poor treatment of girls and women.

Disclaimer: I own no part of any version of TMNT or its characters.

~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~ TMNT ~

In a dark, dank cell in the back of the dungeons, the part that rarely gets visited or sees any upkeep, curls the shell of a girl. The crude stone walls are filled with tally marks, of which the girl has long forgotten what she was counting. Days? Minutes? Maybe just keeping herself distracted, but perhaps the distraction was more effective when her fingers were not bloodied, raw, and numb. Now she does it out of habit, a way to dull the ever present ache of hunger that haunts her. When was the last time she was fed? It’s amazing she’s still alive, though one may not know it just to glance at her pale, skeletal frame.

The girl told herself that the hunger, the darkness, the loneliness, and the utter hopelessness were at least better than before. The mere thought of before brings a shudder to her slight frame. The constant, bright light that made her wonder if she’d ever see again (and who knows if she can now that she’s trapped in darkness). The poking and prodding – hair and blood and skin and marrow and nails and whatever else samples – that never seemed to stop, no matter how much she screamed and cried and begged. The three lost fingers and toes and, oh, her right eye. Pieces of herself that she’d never get back. She thinks perhaps they may have even taken a rib or two.

Those were the early days, when she’d used the thoughts of family and friends to get her through the pain and fear and loss. Did her family even remember her? Would they even recognize her? Did they still care? She didn’t.  She couldn’t remember her mom’s voice or her dad’s face or if she even had any siblings. Vague and blurry shapes were all she could remember. Sometimes broken bits and pieces of memories filtered through her mind, but the girl couldn’t be positive she hadn’t made them up as stories.

What had the Kraang even kidnapped her for? Had she been a specific target or did she just have some of the world’s worst luck? More importantly, what had they used her for? Most importantly, why was she still alive? Maybe she wasn’t; maybe this was her purgatory. Doomed to rot forever in unforgiving darkness. Alone – unwanted and forgotten.

A loud, metallic scraping sound jolted the girl out of her habitual tally carving, signaling a long awaited meal as the metal flap groaned open. Slowly and carefully, she felt along wall towards the door. It was a round room, so there were no corners. It used to take her ten crawling steps to reach the food. This time it took 35 weak drags to get close enough to the food to dig in. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she used to find this slop disgusting. Hadn’t even considered it food. Pink and globular, it had somewhat the texture of boogers and tasted worse than it looked. It wasn’t helped by the fact that it was served by itself, not even on a tray. The first time she’d eaten it, she’d cried. Now it was all she remembered. The smoothness of the food soothed her throat. It settled heavily in her stomach. For the time being, the hunger was manageable again.

It had taken so much energy to make it to the door. The girl was almost tempted to stay where she was, but a small part of her still remembered the overwhelming fear for the Kraang and felt safer elsewhere in the cell. Was there any part of the wall left to carve into? She wasn’t sure. She worked on dragging herself over to the opposite side of the circular room until she felt tally marks again. Then she began to start carving marks onto the floor and waited for sleep to take her. Not that she ever knew when she was actually sleeping.

Outside the girl’s cell, the lights are dim and, in some places, flickering. The girl’s cell is just one of hundreds. Although the cells are all stone, the hallway and doors are all rusted metal. The dungeons have not aged well and no one was bothered enough to clean them up. Many doors had faded, Kraangian writing on them, denoting the prisoner inside. Some doors were so faded that it was unlikely that the occupant had been alive in ages. Other doors had yet to receive a mark. The mark on the girl’s door was slightly faded, yet was the newest mark in the dungeon. If one could read Kraangian, they would know the door labeled the prisoner as “Human Cloaking Donor for Creating Human Cloaking for Blending in With the Ones Known as Humans”. Only one Kraang had bothered to learn that the girl’s name was Irma Langinstein, and that Kraang had other uses in mind for the name than to have that it put on the girl’s cell door.

[tangshcn]

I will now list 5 female tmnt characters that have little to no development (and therefore are Real State), in no particular order

- Irma Langstein

- Princess Tribble

- Renet Tilley

- Tang Shen

- Mona Lisa

[submerged-tmnt]

Copper Bright.

some Casey introspection + some April appreciation. (pre AU canon)

The moment Casey hears their teacher say, “O'Neil? O'Neil? Absent again, fantastic,” he knows why the seat next to him is empty.

He knew before then, too, but had been thinking it could’ve been just a late morning for April.

Of course it rarely was, but their teacher always seemed hopeful anyways

By the time lunch rolls around, Casey figures he’s had enough of school for the day. If he misses anything important, he could just bribe Irma for notes with some of those shrimp she likes so much from his dad’s restaurant.

“Skipping?” She asks mildly as they’re all let outside of the class. Sharp little eyes already knowing exactly where he’s off to.

“Got better places to be,” Casey replies equally as mild. He salutes he and keeps walking, headed for the staircase leading out of their school building. “Seeya, Langstein.”

“Lemme know if you two finally get it on together,” Irma calls after him, and Casey gives her a different sort of salute for that.

As he steps outside, into the busy center of the New York, he knows why April didn’t even bother shooting him a heads up she’d be gone. The wind is enough to carry his loose shaggy air off his shoulders, warm and enticing. The sun is bright in clear skies and he can tell it’s a good day for diving.

Casey snags a snack on the way, paying a visit to a rare fruit vendor to get a stupidly expensive collection of apples. Worth it, but it hurts his wallet anyways.

The dockway shifts under his weight as he goes, leaving the bigger and more stable walkways behind as he heads outwards from the city. He ditches his sandals completely as he hits the houseboat district; walking on warm wood and metal that’s smooth from ocean waves.

He keeps walking, crunching on a green apple, and passes the homes by until they start to really get sparse. Then he keeps going, towards one of the least used docks. April’s favourite spot.

It’s still empty when he gets there, so Casey sits down with his netbag of fruit, and starts his lazy waiting for his best friend to get back.

He’s not mad April ran off without him. She’s always done this, and it’s just something he’s come to accept about her. When the sea calls- off goes O'Neil, faster than any fish or gull.

The heat is hardly kept off by the lapping ocean waves around his dangling legs, and Casey drops his shirt beside his shoes behind him. Shirts are overrated anyways.

Around two hours later, a familiar sail comes into view, and Casey grins.

April leans with the skimmer, shirt gone and tan, freckled skin on display. Her short hair sticks up every direction, and the sun makes it shine copper bright.

She catches sight of him, and the brilliant smile Casey is given makes his stomach pleasantly warm.

April guides the skimmer boat in, slowing it down and adjusting the sails with a lifetime’s expertise. Her shoulders and arms work to do so, and Casey follows the way her muscles tense as she commands her boat.

As she arrives at the dock, sun kissed and still dripping with salty droplets, Casey stares at his best friend and wonders if he could count every freckle on her body, if he was ever allowed that close.

“Nice tits,” He says, instead of saying you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.

April laughs, carefree and bright. “Nice tits yourself! Here, catch.”

She tosses her latest bag of treasures, dripping wet in a net, and hops lightly onto the dock. With quick efficiency, she starts roping the boat to the jutting poles.

Casey does not look at how nice her legs look while doing that, and examines the haul. He pulls out one thing with interest. “The hell is this thing? A weird skewer?”

“A pen, actually! An old fancy ink pen. Like, for calligraphy?”

“What?”

“Swirly writing, Jones.”

Casey wrinkles his nose. Right. “Why d'you need a pen for that? I thought you used paintbrushes.”

April stands up, pulling her shirt out of her diving belt and starting to unfortunately pull it over herself. Goodbye lovely O'Neil shoulders and abs. “On boats, yeah, but these were for paper and junk. Really popular back in the day, at some point.”

Casey looks at the weird pen in his hands, and thinks that sounds a little overly wasteful for their current world. Scribbling on carefully rationed paper with fancy ink and fancy ink pens- that’d all get wrecked in less than a drizzle. “Sounds stupid, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t, thank you, so fuck off,” April’s head reappears out of her t-shirt, making her short hair even messier. Cute. “I just thought they were neat and that maybe we could sell them to a trader ship. Land folks have plenty of paper far as I know, so I’m sure they’d like a fancy pen or two.”

Casey examines the thing for another moment, and then shrugs. “Sounds wasteful, but alright. They’re all weird anyways.”

April takes her treasures back from him, huffing fondly. “I’m sure they think the same about us. And some of those better be for me, mister.”

“Why should they be?” Casey asks, standing up and holding his apples near. “You abandoned me to schoolwork and went fancy pen hunting without me.”

“Give them here, jerk. I cut you in on my notes last class.”

“Nope.”

“Casey!” April laughs, and grabs for the bag.

Casey holds them above his head, and laughs in his short friend’s face as she hops for it. Eventually, because he is admittedly a little lenient with April, he lets her get it. Also because she’s awful and kicks like an evil little bitch.

Casey doesn’t think too hard about how close they’d been through that whole game of keep away, or how flushed and kissable April’s cheeks are after a day’s diving trip. Instead, he kicks her back, like their dynamic has gone since they were knee high, eats another apple, and gets into a rousing conversation of how lucky and weird inlanders are.

April suggests he comes with her to the latest of her discovered dive spots, and Casey agreed to the adventure like he always does.

(Things don’t go as they always do when they dive that time, he nearly lets slip some things he’d rather not quite yet, and their lives stop going “like always” from there on out. Mostly thanks to four very green and very inhuman teens with a tendency to attract more absurd events than any of them can keep track of.)

[baconpoweredmutant]

Do you think that Irma should come back as human, instead of being a Kraang all the time?

// Maybe, I personally hope she comes back as a sentient Android, who rebels against the Kraang and teams up with the turtles. She's built for fighting and spy missions, she can be the best partner for ninjas!

[rubtox]

[starsfic]

Leo was a huge fan of magic, so with Irma around, he jumped at the chance to learn... it wasn't going so well. "Come on! How am I so bad at this?! Fricking SHELLDON's is better at this and he's stuck in Don's PC till he finishes rebuilding his body!"

There was a sigh.

"It's like sword training. Magic takes time, Leo," Irma said, scooping up the spellbook the turtle had thrown in his frustration. "You don't start out with strong spells right away."

"You do!"

"I've been doing this all my life. Honestly," Irma knelt to consider the little sapling Leo had made. "This is way better than anything I've made."

"...really?"

"Yeah."

[starsfic]

Aftermath

Summary: The boys have run after Shredder, leaving the humans to pick up the mess of Splinter and Draxum.

Notes: More of my TMNT incarnation...yeah.

-_-

The boys had left a few minutes, running after Shredder before he destroyed the city. April could understand, still wanting to take several showers just to get rid of Shredder’s psychic presence. It didn’t mean she couldn’t worry about her friends. Her girlfriend knew to stay indoors after a quick call and she and her dad were going to try and spread the message to the rest to the neighborhood. (She had also called Todd and Senor Hueso to give them the alert.)

Still, it left the humans alone with an unconscious and wounded Splinter. There was also a wounded Draxum, crumpled into a pile. Huginn and Muninn had reappeared, perching on Irma’s shoulders as the teens stared at the yokai. “Is he dead?” Irma signed eventually. Casey shrugged.

April pulled out the spare staff Donnie had given her. Extending it, she cautiously approached Draxum. It was possible that he was dead- the beating Shredder had delivered would certainly kill an unmutated human. When she was close enough, she gave him a few pokes. A groan was met at the poking and she took a few steps back.

“He’s unconscious, not dead,” she announced.

“So…are we taking him with us?”

“We can’t! At least, not to the lair!”

April wasn’t sure if she could look Leo or Mikey in the eyes again if they left Draxum here to die. “We aren’t taking him to the lair,” she said before squatting to poke him again. “Hey. Hey, Drax. Draxum. Draxum!” Eyes opened and the baron managed to shift, looking at her through pain clouded eyes. “Portal,” she said, extending her hand. He spat a few words in some language before dropping the compass in her hand. Then he groaned and collapsed face first on the ground again. “Yeah, me too buddy.”

“Where are you going?” Huginn asked as April made the sigil. It glowed purple for a moment before turning into a portal. She stuck the button in her pocket. “I mean, you’re bringing Boss along and I don’t think he’ll be very happy in a human apartment.” Muninn chimed up.

“We’re not taking him to a human apartment,” April said, grabbing one of Draxum’s arms. Certainly not her family’s apartment. “Irma, get Splinter. Casey, help me.” The trio managed to drag the older two through the portal to a familiar office. Big Mama, in human form, stared at them.

“Not a word,” April said, suddenly feeling very tired. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

[tangshcn]

There isn't a single character in tmnt that deserves to be a lesbian more than Irma Langstein

[angstsplatter]

Goodbye Irma by JoyJababaNoid