#and the past and getting increasingly concerned about mikey

[ace-disaster-weeb]

I recently got a copy of The Last Ronin: Lost Years... finally read through the whole thing...holy fucking shit, dude...

[hinatastinygiant]

15 | Desperate Gamble

Pairing: Mikey x Fem!Reader

Undercover Masterlist

As the days pass by, you begin to notice a change in Hakkai. He becomes increasingly distant and on edge, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a shadow of worry. Concerned for your friend, you decide to investigate, hoping to uncover the source of his distress.

One evening, as you wander through the dimly lit corridors of the Black Dragon territory, you overhear snippets of conversation. Hushed voices speak of Hakkai's mounting debt, and the dire consequences he may face if he fails to pay up. Panic surges through you, knowing that Taiju's wrath can be merciless and unforgiving.

You approach Yuzuha, sharing your concerns about Hakkai's recent behavior and the mounting debt he has incurred. Together, you decide to confront the truth by entering his room, only to be greeted by a shocking sight. The room is cluttered with stacks of cash and lavish possessions, evidence of Hakkai's extravagant spending.

Yuzuha sighs, her eyes filled with worry. "He's been saving up for something big," she sighs, her voice tinged with frustration. "But this is a reckless way of doing it. He's going to get himself killed by his own brother."

Your heart sinks at the realization of the grave predicament Hakkai has unknowingly entangled himself in. The weight of responsibility settles heavily upon your shoulders as you contemplate the best course of action. With determination in your eyes, you turn to Yuzuha. "We can't let him continue down this path. We have to find a way to save him."

Yuzuha groans, her frustration evident in her voice. "Yeah, I know. That was the whole point of you being in the Black Dragons," she exclaims, her tone urgent. "We can't waste any more time. You need to do something now."

Feeling the weight of her words, you take a deep breath, summoning your resolve. Yuzuha practically pushes you towards the door, her impatience driving you forward. "I'll find a way to help Hakkai," you reassure her, your voice filled with determination. "I won't let him fall victim to his bad choices. I promise."

With a nod of understanding, Yuzuha watches you go, her faith in your ability to make a difference evident in her eyes. You navigate the familiar streets, hastening your steps as you approach the Black Dragon hideout. Kazutora, one of the gang members, spots you and approaches with a mischievous grin. "Hey, wanna come drinking tonight? Some of the Toman guys will be there too," he suggests, clearly hoping to lighten your mood. 

Not now, you think to yourself, your mind consumed by the urgency of the situation. Without hesitation, you brush past Kazutora, leaving him momentarily shocked and a bit saddened by your lack of interest. 

Kazutora's grin fades, replaced by a hint of concern. "What's got you so serious?" he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You pause for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal. "It's about Hakkai. He's gotten himself into a load of shit."

"So I've heard," he nods, his eyes narrowing in understanding. "Well, be careful."

You offer a grateful nod before continuing on your way. As you enter the hideout, the tension in the air is palpable. The voices from Taiju's office grow louder, filled with anger. You strain to listen, hoping to catch any crucial information that can guide your next move.

"Damn it, Hakkai! You think you can get away with this? You owe me, and I won't let you off the hook so goddamn easily!" Taiju's voice echoes through the corridor, seething with fury.

Hakkai's voice, tinged with desperation, rises in response. "Taiju, please! I'll find a way to repay you, I promise! For Y/N and Yuzuha's sake at least, please!"

Your heart clenches at Hakkai's pleading words. It's now or never. You take a deep breath and make your way toward the source of the commotion.

Just as you approach the office, Kazutora appears once again, his gaze shifting between you and the closed door. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Taiju's in a pissy mood," he warns, his tone cautious.

You lock eyes with Kazutora, determination burning in your gaze. "I need to help Hakkai. He's my friend, and I won't stand by and watch him suffer."

"Geez, you really got a death wish," he scoffs, shaking his head as he lets you pass. 

You then swing open the office door- the sight that greets you filled with tension. Taiju towers over Hakkai, his fists clenched in anger, blood dripping down from either side. Hakkai's face bears the marks of distress, his eyes locking with yours as you enter.

"I had a feeling Hakkai was who you were talking about the other day," you address Taiju cooly, just as you had back in the days when the three of you lived with him. "But he is part of this gang, of this family. Just like we did with that widow, let's find another way to resolve this."

Taiju's gaze turns to you, his eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and annoyance. "And who are you to tell me how to handle my business?" he retorts, his voice laced with hostility.

"Someone who cares about the well-being of the gang. And one thing I do know is that if you start causing problems on the inside, it's bound to get out and cause all sorts of chaos for you. We should be united, not tearing each other to shreds."

As Taiju's fists rain down upon you, you fight to stay conscious, each blow reminding you of the vulnerability you've kept hidden for so long. You endure the pain, knowing that this sacrifice is necessary to protect Hakkai. Despite the bruises and the overwhelming force, you refuse to give up.

You've known it all along, you're no match for him. You nearly have to lay there and take the hits just like you had for Hakkai and Yuzuha when you were younger. And just like back then, he doesn't stop until you're knocked out cold.

Finally, when darkness envelops your senses, Taiju releases his grip on you, satisfied that he has made his point. Gasping for air, you struggle to regain your composure, your battered body a testament to your loyalty. 

To your dismay, you end up giving in- a sharp pain in your chest telling you to stay down. Through blurry eyes you can see Taiju grab Hakkai by the shirt and drag him down the hall, leaving you all alone.

Undercover Masterlist

[saturnandhope]

Mine

SUMMARY: When you don't show up to work for a week, your boss is concerned about your well-being. One day after paying you a visit, Manjiro caught a whiff of your Heat scent and he couldn't stop himself any longer.

Warnings: alpha/omega dynamics, breeding, mating cycles/in heat, dubious consent, vaginal sex, creampie

Pairing: Alpha!Boss!Mikey x Omega!AFAB!Reader     WC: 2.9k

You haven't been to work for a week.

Manjiro hummed in the back of his mind as he jogged up the stairs of your apartment complex. He was concerned for your wellbeing when he hadn't spotted you at the most recent meeting for your section of the city, he hadn't had to do much convincing to get his 'right hand' to head over to your address.

Perhaps it was foolish, for the Leader of Bonten to have become so attached to one of his lowest ranking members, who simply ran a couple of business fronts for the rest of the gang.

Perhaps it was ridiculous for Manjiro to allow himself the luxury of feeling affection for one little cog in Bonten's machine. Perhaps it was silly for him to befriend the lovely (Y/N), just so he could secretly bathe in your presence, your smile, your laughter as if he were a younger man free of the responsibilities and paranoia that came with being a wanted criminal.

If Manjiro felt so affectionate towards you, well, who could blame him when your voice calling his name caused his heart to skip a beat. Now that you hadn't reported or met up with him for the past week, Manjiro had grown increasingly more worried about whether you were alright. After all, loathe as Manjiro was to admit it to himself, you had carved out space in his heart, one he kept closed off to almost everyone in the world. Of course, he had met you, but he'd been sure to seclude himself in shadows.

The few times Manjiro had deigned to call you through the phone to give you instructions of the 'legitimate' accounting business you managed, he had tried every trick he knew of to keep you on longer - a task made difficult by the stilted, awkward power difference between the two of you due to his title as 'your boss'.

Now, after almost a year, Manjiro had to admit to himself that he'd fallen for you and fallen hard. He can't deny that hearing your soft voice refer to him as 'Boss' through his few phonecalls with you had arousal simmer low in the pit of his gut, his cock twitching with interest. He could picture you, splayed out on his bed, blindfolded, mewling and panting that word as he brought you to completion over and over again.

Sometimes, during the midst of his Ruts, when the toys he used to fist his knot until he emptied his balls into several condoms were less than satisfactory, he would toy with the idea of you as an Omega. Your scent would intertwine so intimately with his, cunt swallowing his knot as he held you down, your face pressed to the mattress, ass up in the air to meet his sharp, desperate thrusts, begging him breathlessly for more, to fill you with his seed, with his offsprings. The white-haired Alpha would cum with a low growl, guilt settled heavily in his chest from how easily the thought of you as an Omega - as his mate - had him spilling his release into easily disposed of rubber.

Safe and hidden as Manjiro rode out his Rut - he still tried to keep his noises near silent in fear that someone would catch him in such a compromising position. Sometimes, in the midst of his Rut, when thoughts of you, daydreams of having you with him, beside him, beneath him, swirled in his mind, he would wonder if perhaps he was obsessed with you.

***

Having arrived at your apartment, Manjiro knocked at your painted door and then shifted silently, "(Y/N)? Are you alright? I haven't seen you for a couple of days and got worried about you." He called out to you, pressing his ear to the door. Manjiro remained still, trying to listen out for any sounds that you might make inside your apartment though... something felt, or rather smelt, off.

Inhaling deeply, Manjiro caught the faintest hint of your scent that whispered out from under the door - thick, sweet, the herby presence unusually drenched in what smelled like honey? If Manjiro didn't know better, he'd have assumed you had an Omega partner going through a heat inside your apartment... but the white-haired man wasn't a fool.

He growled lowly making the sound himself, "(Y/N), please open the door" The man rumbled deeply. "B-Boss!?" Your voice whimpered, husky with lust, your scent becoming stronger as it seeped out into the hallway. Manjiro groaned at how good you smelled, all needy and sweet, his shock at finding out you were an Omega, hidden directly under his nose the whole time, pushed to the side as the realisation that you were in Heat to precedent.

Manjiro's nails clawed at the door in front of him, inhaling sharply as he tried to get himself back under control. Biting his tongue, Manjiro felt his skin skitter, tighten and then settle back down. "B-Boss? W-what are you - how did you find my address?" Your voice, though muffled, sounded much closer to the door than it had previously been, your Heat sweetened scent driving the white-haired man slowly and gradually insane.

Manjiro almost felt as if he were about to burst into a Rut, his reaction to your Heat so visceral it was discomforting. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on the sounds of you moving around, the soft thump of your undoubtedly weakened body hitting the wall just beside the door. The Alpha's mind raced as he braced himself with intent on kicking down your door open and getting his darling Omega to fuck her, to bre-

"B-Boss, you shouldn't be here, I-I told you I needed to take the week off."

Biting his tongue, Manjiro forced his voice to be slightly softer and higher in pitch, "I was so worried about you, Y/N," He purred. Manjiro knew his scent was pouring thickly from his body, and judging by your heated, muffled moan in response, you had gotten a whiff of it as well, "Won't you open the door for me, little Omega? I can smell how badly you need me, how badly you need to be knotted by your Alpha," Manjiro growled lowly, dropping all pretenses.

Manjiro could hear you stumble back and away from the door in surprise and crooned darkly, twisting the key and unlocking your door as he peeked inside, "Oh, aren't you just so cute, my Omega, building your nest right by the door. You were waiting for me, weren't you, (Y/N)?"

"B-Boss..." You looked down in horror, all of your hard work hiding your secondary gender crashing down around you as you watched the white-haired Alpha easily step into your small apartment. When you'd first built your nest in your living-bedroom, you hadn't thought that doing so would be misconstrued as a desperate Omega waiting for an Alpha to come to claim them in the cusp of their heat.

You stared up at Manjiro, eyes blown wide and dark with lust, panicked arousal wafting off of you in waves, "I-I am so sorry but-" Between one blink and the next, you gasped in surprise to find your body flipped over onto your knees, your hips pulled up as a strong hand tangled in the mussed up strands of your hair, forcing your head down and to the side submissively.

You whined and arched your back, your previous lucidity rapidly disappearing as you were surrounded by Manjiro's overwhelming scent, "Ah, Alpha, please!" You mewled, leaning into Manjiro's touches, the fires of your heat fanning hotter and hotter, reacting to your Boss' pheromones.

There was a flurry of your torn clothes before Manjiro rumbled softly, his warm chest pressing into your naked back, sharp teeth taking a firm, threatening grip of the back of your neck, relishing the way your body immediately went limp. You didn't bother struggling, your Heat completely overtaking any rational thoughts you could have had without the Alpha's presence in your apartment.

Manjiro purred thickly, digging his teeth into the nape of your neck hard enough for the skin to bruise and a pleading whine to leave your throat, before letting go of the sensitive skin to kiss and lap at it soothingly, "There we go, that's a good Omega," Manjiro crooned darkly, twisting his grip on your hair to force your head further to the side, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale directly from your scent glands, the location where he would leave his mating mark.

"You smell so sweet, delicious, perfect, how dare you have hidden this from me, from your Alpha?" With a snarl, he nipped one of your swollen glands threateningly, a whimpering sob passing your lips as you desperately try to submit to him impossibly more, "Did you think you could hide from me, (Y/N)? You've always been so good for me, but you would hide your status from your Alpha? I should punish you for such disrespect."

Manjiro shifted, threatening to pull away from you and you whined desperately, arching up into him, your voice slurring as you begged him to stay. Your Alpha rumbled, quietly pleased with how needy you were, though he pulled back anyway, "Nooo, Alpha, please, 'm sorry, I'll be good, so good, please," You moaned softly, your body trembling slightly in fear that he would leave you to your own company regardless.

Manjiro soothed you with false gentleness, the rustle of his clothing being removed and dropped just outside the nest causing you to settle back down and relax. Gods, but you felt so wet, so empty, delirious with a need to be filled in a way that your regular toys couldn't do. Feeling Manjiro's pants drag against the backs of your thighs downwards, you sighed and bucked back, the drenched folds of your pussy grinding against the head of your Alpha's cock, "Hmmmm, need you Alpha, please fill me, want you inside me so bad, please please," You whimpered, your fingers clenching tightly in the thick blankets beneath your body, your right hand still damp from when you were playing with yourself.

Manjiro growled hotly, shoving off the rest of his clothing quickly, hovering over you, one hand on your hip to pull your ass up even higher, rutting his dick between your labia, "Good girl, that's a good Omega, you'll let me do anything I want to you, won't you?" He hummed and you nodded with a soft moan, relishing the gentle way Manjiro ran his calloused fingers through your hair, taking that hand up and back, letting it rest on your soft, sensitive belly.

You jolted at the warm feeling of his touch, his fingers spread and massaging into the soft flesh, his voice thick and dominant as he continued to speak, "You'll let your Alpha fill you, breed you, mate you, won't you, (Y/N)? You'll give me another little pup, become my children's mother, won't you?" You whined a desperate yes, causing Manjiro to chuckle darkly, shifting his hips until the leaking head of his cock caught on your entrance, teasingly applying pressure, "Let me hear you say it, Omega. Who do you belong to?"

"You!" You whined loudly, panting and bucking to try and get your Boss to fill you, no longer caring about the consequences that would come from mating with Manjiro; your Heat riddled mind didn't care about the freedom that would be taken from you, the isolation from your friends and family, the darkness that you would be subjected to under the care of your Alpha.

All you wanted right now was Manjiro's knot filling you up and breeding you with his seed, and the Alpha's bitemark in your scent gland, "'m yours, Alpha, ah, Boss," He growled his name in your ear and you whimpered, "Manjiro!" With a snarl, your Boss pulled away from your dripping pussy, then thrust the full, thick length of his dick into the tight, wet clutch of your insides.

You cried out, eyes rolling to the back of your mind as you were stretched to the brim - his cock almost felt burning hot inside you, and you swore you could feel the head rub deliciously against your cervix. Manjiro groaned lowly, his chest pressed into your back so he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if he would die without it.

Your Alpha ground against your ass for several slow moments, allowing you the luxury to get used to the stretch, before Manjiro pulled out of your cunt and slammed back into you again, and again, and again. The white-haired man set a brutal, punishing pace, slow and deep, forcing you to feel each inch of his cock as he pounded into you without mercy. You hiccupped and whined, writhing and trying to buck back into Manjiro's thrusts, though the hand on your belly and the hand clutching your hip kept you still. When you tried to lift your upper body with your shaky arms, Manjiro snarled and nipped your scent gland, immediately weakening your limbs further, "Stay down, just let your Alpha take care of you, good girl, so sweet for me, so perfect," Manjiro rumbled darkly, turning his face to kiss your cheek in an almost sickeningly sweet way, the lewd, wet sounds of your hips slamming into each other loud in the otherwise still apartment

“Just let me take care of you, fuck, you're so tight, so wet, you've been aching for me, haven't you? So desperate and empty, kept yourself open and waiting just for me, haven't you? I'm going to fill you up, gonna knot you deep and stuff you full with my seed, make you round and heavy with pups," He rumbled, his words threatening and sending shudders skittering down your spine.

Pleasure and arousal coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach, his words and thrusts, sending you spiralling higher and higher towards the edge of bliss, "You'll cum for me, milk my knot, let me bite into that swollen gland of yours, bind you to me forever, yes, fuck, so good, such a good Omega, my perfect little mate, (Y/N)."

You sobbed and whined, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, your whole body shaking with the need to cum. You were so close, so desperate to cum, begging him to let you cum. Manjiro growled thickly, his pace stuttering and speeding up, knot swelling and tugging at your entrance with each pull out of your tight heat, "Cum for me, cum for your Alpha," Manjiro snarled, waiting for the moment when your back arched and your inner walls clenched around him like a vice before he sank his sharp teeth deep into the meat of your shoulder, your mating gland bursting, coating his tongue in your pheromones.

You screamed as you came, pussy fluttering and milking Manjiro's cock and knot when he thrust his cock inside you for the last time, tying your body to his. Your body was tense and shook harshly, insides convulsing as you felt hot, sticky cum spill into the depths of your cunt, right up against the entrance to your fertile little womb.

You whimpered his name softly before going boneless once more, your mind delirious with relief as you flopped down into your nest. Manjiro followed you easily, his larger body settling heavily above yours as his cock continued to pulse and spurt thick cum into your cunt. You sighed shakily, turning your face to the side when Manjiro pulled his teeth from your new bonding mark, his tongue lapping over the weeping wound until it stopped bleeding. A part of you hoped it wouldn't stick, that it would scab over and disappear after a few weeks, no scar left to tie you to the dangerous man who had claimed you as his mate.

Humming lowly, Manjiro opened his hollow onyx eyes to lock gazes with you. You stared at him silently, your eyes fluttering shut when he tipped your face further towards him, his lips slanting over yours to kiss you deeply, forcing your mouth to open for his tongue as he swallowed your soft, complacent noise.

You felt muted embarrassment to notice you were purring softly in satisfaction and happiness, Manjiro shifting your bodies so you were resting on your sides together. You clenched around his knot tightly when it shifted and tugged at your entrance, breaking the kiss with a whimper of his name. Manjiro shushed you gently, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder, "Shhhh, Omega, just rest. I'll have someone move your nest and possessions to our home after your Heat. It's time for you to finally come home," He murmured and you sighed, your eyes slowly slipping shut from exhaustion, Manjiro's gentle touches and massaging of your slightly bloated belly quickly sending you into a restful sleep.

[remmushound]

Could you write a crossover oneshot, about the 2018 crew (April included) showing off their crazy OP skillz? (Mikey yeeting boats around, Donnie's tech, Leo's portals, etc.)

@assanmaharielsreblogs @itscryptifssil

Rise April = April

2012 April = O’Neil

“Hey guys!”

Leo hated being so exposed, just standing in the open for all to see. Leonardo had reassured him that it was chill here, that they’d never been spotted and weird stuff happened so often that no one would question it if they were. Still, standing there on the docks, open as he was, Leo couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder every few minutes to check for any signs of life disturbing the darkness.

“Watch this!”

Michelangelo resembled the Mikey that Leo knew in so many ways, and it seemed they even shared the same mad skills that all Mikey’s seemed to have in common. The turtle had been loud in his cry, drawing the attention of all below as he leapt from the rooftops and swung out hiskusari-fundo. Like the most beautiful fire work show, the blade and chain ignited in a feiry blaze that caught all of the other box turtles below by surprise, though Michelangelo’s brothers hardly acknowledged the act past a short applause or curious, watching eye.

“Holy—“ Leo sputtered.

“It’s so beautiful!” Mikey’s eyes Reflected the flames like something out of a movie, observing their beauty and hardly breathing.

“HOLY CHALUPAS!” Ejected Donnie, “How did he...?”

“Thats... concerning.” Raph said softly, trying to hide his astonishment behind a chilled facade.

The kusari-fundo shot out over the water, the chain stretching far longer than Leo could remember it actually being. Like an ever growing snake, flying and flying over the orange-reflectinh bay until the blade and a good deal of the chain latched impossibly around the hull of a boat down in the water. Before Michelangelo could come crashing down onto the hard docks, the chain tightened and pulled him into the water at incredible speeds, like a water skier without skis.

“COWABUNGA!”

When he was just about to hit the bough of the ship, the chain gave a sudden, upward jerk and pulled him onto the safety of the deck just in the nick of time. The fire went out, and for a heart wrenching moment none of the turtles could even see the youngest among them, until the teen’s silhouette appeared over the railing and waved to them.

“Uh... how did he—“ Leo began before his taller counterpart cut him off.

“Relax; I’ll go get him.”

Before Leo could even begin to ask how Leonardo would achieve such a feat, Leonardo had drawn his katana and traced a large, arching shape in the air. It was like the blade was slicing through the very fabric of reality, leaving a baby blue glow wherever the tip of the metal touched. When the sword reunited with where it had started, the entire middle erupted into that same mystic glow.

“Woaaaah.” Was all the box turtles could say— even Donnie finding himself speechless at the pure display of power.

Leonardo tucked his katana back in its sheath as he stretched and stepped into the portal, backward so he could click his tongue and give finger guns as he disappeared through the rippling blue. Across the bay came that same ghostly blue glow aboard the ship, and they could see Leonardo step out and wrap his arm around Michelangelo before waving back to the turtles on land.

“Did you build that?” Donnie gasped out, addressing Donatello.

Donatello scoffed. “That? That’s nothing. Raph, show em.” He waved and gave the show off to Raphael, who seemed confused for a second before catching on with a belching bellow.

“Alright, guys!” Raphael slammed his fists together and gave an excited jig, swaying his body back and forth as a determined grin found itself on his face. Eyes narrowed, teeth pulled into a smirk, body moving with untapped potential. “I call this boss mode!”

“Boss mode?” Raph said slowly, trying to hide his growing anticipation and fear. “Looks like a dance to me.”

“Just gotta get warmed up!” He sucked in and huffed out deep breaths, grabbing his Tonfa as he shook out his wrists and started to dig his feet deeper into the ground with each increasingly-violent stomp. His tail lashed. Red sparks started to twist their way around his weapons and wrists, slowly spreading up until the electric aura surrounded him completely. The sparks turned into a fire once the all of him was in their power. His eyes flushed white. The red aura around him grew— and grew, and grew until he was almost as tall as the buildings surrounding him. Despite the awe-inspiring scene, the smaller Raphael within the heart of the beast seemed to be straining under the expended power. The bigger he was, the harder Boss Raph was to control. His teeth were clenched, muscles and veins bulging as life flooded back into tear-filled eyes.

“CONTROLLING JU POWER JITSU... LIKE A BOSS!”

Once the final three words escaped his mouth, he seemed in full control of the situation. When his leg moved, Boss moved in sync. Raphael forced his larger form to wade into the water, his red glow disappearing under the surface as he walked effortlessly over to his brothers on the ship. He held out a hand to them, and both seemed more than happy to hop onboard. Raphael spun around, the movement of his superior self slow and lumbering like most large creatures.

He held the two safely to his chest and carried them to shore, carefully letting them down beside Donatello. Raphael made sure his brothers were on sound footing before finally letting his form pixelate away into nothing and lower him to the ground in a gentle grasp. Leonardo and Donatello were there to support their older brother as he collapsed into them, his legs feeling little more than flexible foam under his great weight. Just from the maybe-minute long quest, Raphael was soaked in sweat and his plastron heaved with begging, thankful gasps of cool air.

“Sorry.” Raphael gasped to the other team, laughing and forcing his heavy arm up to wave. “Kinda tiring, yknow.”

“INCREDIBLE!” Donnie gasped, hurrying over to investigate Raphael though all traces of mystic power was gone from his body. “How often can you do that?!”

“Uh. Never done it more than once in a day.” Raphael rubbed the back of his neck, “it’s pretty draining.”

“I bet!” Donnie squealed, “maybe it’s like that because your metabolism speeds up dramatically— or, or your body adjusts for how long it SHOULD have taken you to do that normally, or—“

“It’s his chakra.” Donatello answered simply.

“Chakra?” Donnie deflated as he asked.

“Seven power points through the body, centers of magic? Ring a bell?”

Leo hummed. “Master Splinter taught me a technique called Reiki thats supposed to heal chakras...”

“So like, what’s your super magic power thing?” Mikey was practically pressing his nose to Donatello’s as he spoke

Donatello’s nose scrunched up at the invasion of personal space, but he quickly brushed it off when Leo grabbed his brother and pulled him away.

“I, little man, have the greatest ‘magic’ of all! SCIENCE!”

“Here we go,” Raph rolled his eyes.

“BEHOLD!” Donatello pulled his bō staff free of its holster and held it to the sky in a pose not unlike the Statue of Liberty. “MY TITANIUM REINFORCED TECH BO!”

Raph gave a slow clap. “Wow. Wonderful. So cool.”

Leo shoved Raph pointedly. “Thats... wonderful, Donnie.”

“Oh. OH HO HO!” Donatello laughed, motioning to his precious staff, “you think this is everything? Au contraire, my fellow shelled companions! This is the top of the line, most up to date technology in my arsenal. Complete with a glider...”

Two wings shot out from either end of the staff, much to the surprise of the turtles gathered.

“Chainsaw! Laser gun! Tranquilizer! Buzz saw! Dual sided rocket propellers! And of course a selfie stick!”

As Donatello listed off his tech-bo’s enhancement, the once simple-looking staff shifted between each feature, ending with a selfie stick that extended far beyond the reach of a normal one and took a snap after the few seconds it took Donatello to pose with two fingers extended and his tongue sticking out.

Leo blinked to try and bring himself out of the blindness induced by the sudden flash. Donnie recovered from it quickly, though his eyes were just as bright the light of the camera had been. He ran over to Donatello practically fit to burst as the softshell gave a smug smirk.

“THAT WAS SO COOL! HOW’D YOU EVER GET THE MONEY TO MAKE ALL OF THAT?!”

Donatello booped his older counterparts snout. “By no legal means.”

April decided to insert herself into the conversation before it could get much farther. “Wanna see what my power can do?”

Eight sets of eyes turned on her.

“You have a power too?” Mikey beaned.

April laughed and gave the mutant a pet on the head. “Sure do! Watch this!”

She lifted her baseball bat from her back, tapping it a few times on the ground as a green glow Overcame the wood. Donatello reached into his shell armor and produced a baseball, tossing it high into the air and out of sight.

“APRILLLLLLLL~”

She dug her feet into the earth as her eyes ignited in the same lime as her bat. She swung the bat a few times, super sight locking onto the small ball as it came hurdling downward.

“O’NEIL!”

With impossibly perfect timing, she spun around once more and brought her bat slamming down on the falling target, sending the ball flying once more in a blaze of neon green glory over the city’s horizon.

“HOME RUN!!”

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Tour Mom Chapter 2

A/N: Alright I’m having fun with this so I’ll just continue it. My MCR fic isn’t as good as my other ones, but I’m assuming it’s because I’ve never worked with this set of characters before. It may get better over time. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Gerard with a little MCR x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2041

You were extremely proud of Gerard. Post-Black Parade the guys took a break. They wanted to figure out how to redefine the band, moving away from the “traditional” MCR, that being Three Cheers and TBP.

You of course, helped Gerard. Just like your helped the boys with their first three albums. It wasn’t much, but altering some lyrics here and there to make their songs more elaborate and more descriptive. 

They had already written and recorded a few songs in the process of establishing the storyline of the Killjoys, which Gerard pitched to you during the last tour. Everyone jumped on board, besides Bob. So he left.

Additionally, in your personal life, you and Gerard were expecting. By that, of course, meant you were pregnant. To be honest, it wasn’t planned at all. You and Gerard had talked about kids in the past. Never too seriously, but enough to know you wanted at least one in the future. The timing wasn’t on point for the expansion of your family, but you two happily accepted it.

And then there came the fact that you weren’t married. While Gerard’s family didn’t mind it, your family kind of did. With your parents having divorced when you were younger, they of course had drastically different views. Your dad had always really like Gerard, and was more than happy for you two, understanding that marriage was something you wanted to do on your own schedule. Your mother on the other hand, was “disturbed” by it. While you didn’t totally care, a part of you was crushed by this.

But of course, Gerard helped guide you through it, reassuring your own little family would be just fine, whether or not your mother necessarily approved of it all. This brought you peace of mind of course.

Gerard also bought you two promise rings. It was almost like an engagement, just something saying he promised he would love you for everyday until you two officially got married and renewed those vows officially. And you of course promised the same.

What was most concerning was the potential for your depression to come back during and after the pregnancy. Your therapist and psychologist had some worries, as well as how your antidepressants would affect your pregnancy, and the potential of your hormones changing too much.

“I don’t know, Gee.” You sighed as you two discussed what to do with it all, “I don’t want to risk the baby, but I don’t want to risk myself.” He nodded.

“You’ve made so much progress,” He grabbed your hand, “It’s really up to you.” “Yeah, but it’s our child.” He nodded.

“Maybe continue on them,” He told you, making eye contact of course, “And please, talk to me about how you feel. If you’re not doing well you need to tell me, okay?” You nodded. You and Gerard were always extremely open about your mental health to one another, so of course you would tell him.

And that led to a long and turbulent pregnancy. You were glad the band had taken a break to be honest, that way every day Gerard could be at home with you. Of course he took the occasional day to go in and record, or to have a meeting, but most of the time we he was with you.

Everyday it got increasingly harder to do things like make your way up the stairs, clean up, even making dinner which was usually one of your favorite activities but became a burden as the bump grew. Gerard was empathetic as always though, helping you with every task he could. Not being too touchy or too obsessive, but just when you needed it.

“I got you,” He told you as he helped to swing your legs onto the bed. The third trimester was by far the hardest. The bump was large, and managed to grow even bigger everyday.

“Yeah,” You huffed, “I know.” You finally sighed in relief as you laid on the large king bed, getting under the covers and in a semi-comfortable position before you would have to switch again in another hour or so.

“You alright?” He would ask every night before the two of you feel asleep.

“As good as I can be for a pregnant woman.” You would answer. He would just lightly smiled, “I just want her to pop out already.” He nodded.

“I love you.” He said, rolling over to face the other side of the bed.

“Love you too.”

And flash forward just a few weeks, you sat painfully in the delivery room after your water broke while making lunch, Gerard by your side, unless you began violently cursing him out for putting you in your current situation, in which he would walk away for a few minutes, usually out of the room to give you breathing space.

Thankfully as well, your childhood best friend was there to assist when Gerard took his break. Y/B/F/N would sit next to you, holding your hand as your painful contractions came and wouldn’t stop.

“You’re ready to push, Ms. Y/L/N.” One of the nurses told you. And so Gerard was called back in to sit right next to your hospital bed, holding your hand as your screamed and groaned in agony and pain.

“You’re doing great.” He would tell you, giving you light kisses on the top of your head. “Just continue, sugar, and you’ll be all good.”

After a two and a half hour labor, you both heard small cries and most of your pain ceased. You were immediately handed your daughter, and all her seven pound self. And you instantly fell in love with her.

Gradually, after you and Gerard, who cried, got some time alone with her, family and friends were welcomed in. “Arden Lola Way.” You said aloud, the final name you and Gerard had decided on, “She’s incredible, Gee.” You told him, showing her off. Despite her little eyes being closed, her fingers perfectly wrapped around her fathers, and her little noises made your heart explode.

“I know she is.” He smiled, “We made that.” “We did.” You smiled even more.

Gradually the waves of people came in to greet you. It started out with your dad who was more than excited to hold his first granddaughter in his arms, and you could’ve sworn if it wasn’t for the line of other people wanting to hold her, he wouldn’t have let go.

Gerard’s dad came in next, along with Mikey. And surprisingly, Mikey too fell in love with your little girl. He seemed a little nervous holding her at first, but lightened up soon.

However, you were already worn out, and were extremely tired. Everyone had left besides you, Gerard, and of course your daughter. “Go to bed, sugar,” He told you, “I can take care of her.” And that was all you needed to be out like a light on the partially uncomfortable hospital bed, that post-giving birth felt like heaven.

But after a few hours, you were awoken by the screams of your daughter. Gee got up, carefully picking up your baby girl and trying to soothe her, which ended up failing. “I got her.” You mumbled, feeling like a zombie, and reaching out.

He gave her over in no time, you attempting as well to calm her. “I think she’s hungry.” You slumped over, giving her complete access so she could breast feed. “This’ll be a fun couple of months.” You sarcastically said, smiling lightly at him who lightly smiled back, nodding.

“Can’t wait.” He placed himself back on the couch next to your bed.

And a few short days later, you were out the door, Gerard helping get you and your daughter into the car and carefully driving off. And by carefully, you meant very carefully.

Which was also how he spent the next few weeks with the two of you. He had basically dropped everything to be at home, especially since he knew you couldn’t handle the baby alone.

“I think we should get married.” He said, sitting next to you in bed and flipping through a book, you doing the same.

“Okay.” You said, keeping your attention on the pages.

“Okay? “Yeah, let’s plan it.” You said, “I mean small, obviously, like really small.” He nodded.

“I love you.” He added on. “I love you too, Gee.” He gave you a quick kiss on the lips, Arden interrupting with her screams, which you could’ve easily mistaken for a murder.

“I’ll get her.” He got up, placing his book on the nightstand and jogging out of the room and down the hall to your newborns yellow room (Which you and he had spent almost five hours perfecting).

You could hear him begin to cradle her through the baby monitor you had on your side of the bed. If there’s one thing Gerard had proved since your daughter was born, it was that he absolutely adored her. If it weren’t for naps and breast feeding, you would bet money on the fact that that man would be holding your baby 24/7.

She slowly began calming down, stopping her ring of cries, and falling nearly asleep in his arms. Then you heard him do what he always did: sing her some lullaby. You couldn’t identify which once, but she was out like a light in less than 30 seconds, giving Gee an opportunity to gradually place her back in her crib.

“She loves it when you sing to her.” You smiled as your fiancee walked in.

“It’s the only way to get her to bed, ya know.” “Besides feeding her.” You leaned back and under the covers, against your pillow. “She takes after her father in that regard.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

And then came the hardest part of it all. Once your daughter was three months old, Gerard had finally brought up the upcoming album. They had scraped the initial one by that point, and were already half way through the new one. And while you were always proud of his work, having a kid presented various other issues and responsibilities. “When are you guys planning on releasing it?” You asked, sitting across from Gee at your dining table, your young one having a nap.

“Later this year.”

“So before or after Ard’s first birthday?”

“Probably after.” He stated, playing with his fingers. He himself was extremely anxious to tell you.

“What about the tour?” You asked, “Because I don’t think it would be best to tour with a one year old. And I would have to stay with her.” He nodded.

��I’m not sure.” He said, “I mean, there’s always Skype, right?” You reluctantly nodded. On the inside you were pissed at him right now for even thinking about leaving you and your daughter, but this was his job.

“Fine.” You said, getting up and beginning to walk away.

“Baby,” You could hear him get up, sounding almost sympathetic, because of course he knew you were mad, “Why don’t we talk about this?” “We just did!” You unintentionally snapped, “Sorry.” You sighed walking back over to him, “I’m just worried, okay? For both us and you.” He gave a confused look, “Well, obviously it’ll be hard for Arden to be away from you for so long, especially with her age.” “I’ll take every break I can and come home.” He stated.

“But what about you?” You looked up at him, making firm eye contact, “I love you, Gee, but you got off of drugs and alcohol once. And I’m not saying you would again, but we both know how stressed you get on tours.” “But I’ve gone the last two and a few in between clean, babe.”

“You also had Ray, Bob and I looking after you. Mikey too.” He looked down for a moment, “I won’t be there, Bob quit, and so now it’ll be Ray and Mikey.”

“I’ll call you if I’m struggling.” You rose in eyebrow in superstition, “I promise.”

“Alright.” You said, “Just please, be responsible, Gee. I know you can, but just be careful. Because now it’s not just me. You have a daughter too.” He nodded. “And I think Skypes will be mandatory with the little one.”

[donatello-writes]

Not Quite Human - Donatello x Reader

Part II can be found here --> (x)

The gentle glow of the television lit up your darkened apartment, you were wrapped up in a blanket on your couch hanging on every word of a news broadcast. Four mysterious vigilantes aided the police department in defeating the ominous alien spacecraft that threatened New York city not but a week ago. A smile crossed your lips as you entertained the idea that if aliens existed in this scenario, perhaps the vigilantes weren’t human either. Gossip flew regarding the identities of the heroes ranging from aliens to monsters, and many accounts claimed to have seen what were described as “swamp things”. A notion that delighted you, as matters of the occult and mythical creatures had always held your interest, even though you knew that none of it was real. 

“Maybe I’ll see one of those swamp things,” You voiced to your empty apartment and chuckled.

Deep down within the sewer systems, a certain nerdy turtle sneezed while in the midst of having the meltdown of his life. The champions secured their victory over the Krang, and they finally had some down time, but Donatello couldn’t relax. The brainy terrapin paced back and forth in the living room of the Lair so furiously, one would think he was attempting to wear a hole in the floor. He was understandably restless, as his thoughts on what his older sibling had done whipped around in his head like a maelstrom. A memory so vivid in his mind, it felt as if it’d happened yesterday. The vial of ooze shattering against the walls of the lair, lost forever.

“How could he do this?!–Don’t answer that, it was a rhetorical question…I know Raph is a doer not a thinker,” the teched-up turtle vented his frustrations to Michelangelo, the person he often turned to for emotional support. Much like himself, his little brother was more sensitive and empathetic than their other two brothers. 

“I dunno, dude…but hey, it’s not all that bad bein’ green,” the orange masked turtle smiled warmly, trying his best to comfort Donatello, as he always did. Despite his cheerful demeanor, he was hurting over the impulsive decision as well. Raphael meant no malice with his actions, he honestly had no idea what this meant to his younger siblings, but that fact didn’t make up for the outcome.

“Neither of them understand, but I know that you do, Mikey,” the fretful terrapin sighed heavily, meeting eyes with his brother. Both of the young turtles yearned to know what it felt like to be human, to be able to walk around topside without being viewed as freaks or, worse yet…monsters. With their only chance having been destroyed by an act of impulse, they were both understandably distraught.

“Yeah, I totally get it,” Mikey admitted, finally showing his disappointment with the situation. “But what can we do? The purple stuff that we had is gone now.” 

Donatello’s expression fell into anguish at the veracity of his brother’s statement. “That’s true, and it’d be impossible for us to successfully secure more from the Shredder…Not just the two of us, anyway,” The bespectacled turtle’s eyes focused downwards as he finally settled down into a seat. “Also, we don’t know for sure if they have more of the formula created.” 

Michelangelo’s face almost looked pained at this point, he didn’t want to think about the harsh reality of the situation for even a moment longer. He rose from the table, giving his brother one last half-hearted smile.“Well, it was a nice dream, but what-evs,” the now undeniably gloomy young terrapin patted his brother on the shell before getting up and trudging to his room. 

Donatello pinched the bridge of his snout as he sat alone in the common room, despair consuming him. All he wanted was to experience what it was like to be human, and he would never get that chance now. The ooze was unsalvageable, what little remained was now still splattered across the lair walls. His golden eyes became misty as they beheld Raphael’s masterpiece, in all it’s glory. Suddenly, a bit of light reflected off a small portion of the stain, grabbing the brooding turtle’s attention. Was it really still liquid? Impossible.

Jumping to his feet, he approached the wall, inspecting it thoroughly. The ooze had somehow remained viable, his jaw dropped in disbelief. The once sorrowful terrapin’s hope was renewed, all he needed was even the smallest amount for analysis and he could find a way to replicate it. Now filled with excitement, he bounded into his lab to retrieve a petri dish and swab to collect the ooze specimen. He scraped his prize from the surface with great precision, careful not to contaminate it with too much concrete from wall upon which it was affixed. After successfully recovering a sample, Donatello let out a relishing chuckle as he shut himself away in his lab, fueled by enthusiasm and determination. 

In the months following the start of his endeavor, he lied about the specifics of it, telling his brothers that he was working on some amazing invention that would aid them in their missions. It was obvious that he couldn’t tell Leonardo or Raphael, as they clearly didn’t understand. And after much debate, he finally came to the decision to leave Michelangelo in the dark as well, not wanting to get his hopes up; that, and he was awful at keeping secrets. The genius worked tirelessly, months rolled by, and before he knew it, a year had passed. He felt as though he wasn’t accomplishing anything, becoming increasingly frustrated with each passing day. 

It was 5:00 a.m. when a sleep deprived and starving Donatello stumbled out of his lab in pursuit of sustenance. He wore his purple mask as a necklace and groaned with every step that he took towards to the kitchen. Once there, he made a bee line for the coffee pot, his savior. Raphael had just finished his early morning workout and spotted the elusive mad scientist, stalking him into the kitchen. 

“Whaddaya doin’ outta yer geek den?” the question came in the form of a growl as the burly terrapin eyed his younger sibling, who simply responded by shooting a glare in his general direction. 

Choosing to ignore him, Donatello simply continued setting up his coffee, clicking the appliance on to work it’s magic, and then reached into one of the cabinets, to retrieve a box of blueberry flavored Pop-Tarts. 

“Whut eva…” the hot-headed turtle’s words trailed off as if he had more to say, but he stopped himself; this silence was fleeting, however. As always, he just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, so he started again,“Ya know…when I got a problem wit someone I tell ‘em, but I guess I’m just bawlsier than most.” the bait was set, and he waited for his younger brother to take it. The troublemaker used this tactic with frequent success, but Donatello was in no mood for his shenanigans, and the mechanical sputter of the busy coffee pot was the only thing to be heard between the two turtles. 

The still sleepy terrapin proceeded to pour his coffee, and munch on his breakfast, letting Raphael stand there and simmer. When it became apparent that he the he no interest in talking, the rageful reptile’s temper went through the roof. “FINE. I thought so! Avoidin’ any sawt of conflict like usual! Enjoy yer cawffee break.” He stormed out of the room grumbling.

“Conflict…” He muttered to himself as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the word turning over and over in his head before he had a sudden realization. “That’s…that’s it!!!” He exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with his coffee mug in one hand, and half-eaten Pop-Tart in the other. The genius sped past Raphael, rattling off scientific terms to himself like a mad man. When he reached his lab, he turned and stopped to stare down his brother before grinning wide and slamming the doors shut. 

“DONNIIIIIIE!!!” Raphael roared, racing up to the large laboratory doors and thrusting his fists into them. The doors showed no signs of permitting entry from the assault, but he did leave a significant dent.

*****************************   

Across the city, you ran down the darkened streets dressed in a lab coat and business casual. You were late for work, but chose the sweet relief of alertness over punctuality, as you quickly slipped into a small coffee shop to grab a cup. And today, you needed that extra boost of energy more than any other. After securing your liquid adrenaline, you happily headed to work, not needing to walk far. You approached the gigantic facility that was TCRI, and walked inside. As always, you held up your credentials to the guards at the desk, who permitted entry, and touched your badge to an electronic pad which then granted you access through secure titanium doors. 

Doing your best to stifle the overwhelming stress that all but consumed you as of late, you drew in a deep breath and went about your normal routine at the laboratory. As the day wound down to a close, you prepared to carry out the mission you had been given. It was now late into the night, and all of your colleagues had long since left for the day. 

You remained, working on the latest project involving nano technology as a form of biological warfare. Subtly sabotaging the efforts of the project; in good conscience, you couldn’t allow it to be successful. The very idea of implementing this abhorrent tactic made you cringe, but you did what needed to be done in order to carry out a far more important assignment, retrieving a vial of Dr. Stockman’s highly sought after genetic modification formula. Tonight, you would secure a sample to bring back to your actual employer.

The security guards weren’t even a bother, all you needed was a little bit of Nitrous Oxide to temporarily take care of them. Slipping silently into the main laboratory, you did a quick survey of your surroundings before proceeding. Having already knocked out the security cameras, and programmed them to show previously recorded footage, you were not concerned. Knowing exactly where it was kept, you located the ooze and tucked the vial into your pants pocket posthaste. 

“Y/N?” Instantly recognizing that voice, you turned to see one of the head geneticists, Sampson, steadily approaching you from across the room.

“Hello, Sampson.” You greeted your colleague tactfully, showing not even an ounce of lost composure from his unanticipated presence.

“Why are you in here? This isn’t your working sector.” He inquired through narrowed eyes, all the while analyzing you skeptically.

“Doreen asked for my assistance with the centrifugation of subjects 2201XJ8 and 2243XW9.” You had glanced briefly at the recent project files earlier in the day to prepare yourself for just this type of scenario.

“That’s odd…2201XJ8 and 2243XW9 were contaminated and, thus, thrown away several hours ago…” suspicion piqued, he advanced towards you quicker than you could react. Attempts to flee came too late, and he managed to grab hold of your collar. Swiftly wriggling out of your lab coat, you gained freedom from his grasp. Thinking on your feet, you hit the conveniently placed bright red lock down button and slid underneath the door, trapping your coworker inside. Something told you that you weren’t the first person to do that. 

Sampson wasted no time dialing a contact in his phone as he watched you escape, “Yes…Hello, I heard that your gang will do pretty much anything for the right price…I have a job for you.” He knew full well that he couldn’t enlist the foot ninjas for assistance, admitting his incompetence to the Shredder was a fate worse than death. Completing the transaction with his hired thugs, he smiled deviously as they confirmed their pursuit of you. The sunrise met your eyes as you fled the building, taking off down the street knowing that you weren’t out of the woods just yet.

*********************************

It had been over a year since Donatello began his quest for the ooze, and now the culmination of his hard work was finally coming to fruition. And in all irony of ironies he, partially, had Raphael to thank for it. The purple liquid bubbled within the beaker that housed it, begging to be tested, and the genius just couldn’t resist. He carried on like a kid who received the keys to a candy store. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t test it right away, what with his brothers in the lair. With all of them present, it would be impossible for him to slip out in his human form unseen. So he waited. Several days later, the police scanner picked up a report of foot clan activity, and Leonardo called his brothers together to discuss plans to investigate. Donatello smooth talked his way out of going, claiming he was close to a breakthrough in his research, which wasn’t a complete lie. He simply neglected to mention that it pertained to the purple ooze.

With his brothers out chasing the foot, the brainy terrapin had the lair to himself, at long last! Well, with the exception of Master Splinter, but sneaking past him was a non-issue. Donatello was beaming as he ­­­peered into the vessel that contained his scientific masterpiece, just one sip should be enough…He knew that the effects of his synthetic ooze would be temporary, a purposeful attribute given to it by him, it’s creator. All the purple clad turtle wanted to do was experience what is was like to be human. If, following the testing phase, he felt as though he was meant to be that way, he’d later rework the formula to be permanent. That, however, was a venture for another day, now was the time for experimentation. 

Shutting his eyes tight, he drank from the vial. After waiting for a moment, he opened them, unsure of when it would take effect. Suddenly, his muscles began to ache, as a tense feeling surged throughout his body. He watched his fingers divided from three to five on each hand, just as he’d witnessed when he tested the formula previously. Gradually, his skin changed from green to a pale peach and his scales smoothed out into soft flesh. The excited lad tripped over himself while rushing into his bathroom, wanting to watch in the mirror as the transformation unfolded.  

Donatello stared back at himself in awe, he had ears! The oversized tortoise shell glasses he always wore slipped down his face more than usual as his snout took the shape of a much smaller, yet still prominent, human nose. Freckles dusted across his pale cheeks and shoulders as wavy raven black hair cascaded down from his head, delicately framing his face and stopping just a few inches past his jawline. He was so distracted by his new facial features that he didn’t even notice his shell had disappeared. 

Once the metamorphosis was complete, the triumphant brainiac threw his head back, and laughed like an evil genius. A slight reduction in body mass occurred during his shift in form, not enough to be discernible to the naked eye, however, it was enough to cause his pants to lose their grip on his hips. The villainous laughter was interrupted when his bottoms proceeded to slip from his slender human waist, and he grabbed his Millennium Falcon patterned boxers before those followed suit. 

“Oh no…what am I supposed to do? I can’t go topside in the nude.” to remedy his immediate and unexpected need for human clothing, he turned to Michelangelo’s room. That pack-rat of a turtle collected mundane artifacts as if they were valuable treasures to be hoarded, surely he’d be able to find something usable in that mess. Donatello entered the room, piles upon piles of clothing, unusable electronics, and other clutter filled it, along with several empty boxes of pizza. He scrunched his nose at the effluvia that hung in the air, his little brother somehow managed to make his particular corner of the sewer smell even fouler.

Holding his breath, the nerdy young man randomly chose one of the many mounds of oddments and rummaged through it. After some digging, he managed to find one black muscle tee that read “Rad Dude” in a trendy red colored font, a pair of very worn black converse shoes, and a pair of denim jeans, ripped at the knees. The best article of clothing he’d found in the stash being a flannel shirt in various shades of purple. Having no time to be picky, the thief made off with what he’d found.

While returning to his laboratory to get changed, the turtle turned human was nearly knocked out by the putrid clothing that he held in his arms. This was unacceptable, there was no way he was going to wear something that smelled worse than a sewer, he needed to wash the garments before he ventured to the surface. Stepping into the seldom used laundry room, Donatello flicked on the lights and blew the dust from the old machines. As he reached for detergent, he wondered if they even still worked. Tossing the clothing and soap into the washer, he turned it on to find, much to his surprise, that it was still fully functioning.

Now needing to wait for his clothing to go through the entire washing and drying process, the impatient turtle fidgeted in frustration at the unexpected delay. Coming to terms with his predicament, he passed the time by logging the alterations that occurred during his shift in form, to ensure he had enough information to further his research on the ooze’s effects. Making quick work of his notes, he then switched the laundry to the dryer. The waiting game began anew and he swiftly found himself consumed by boredom once more. He wondered what else he could do to fully immerse himself in the human experience. 

Thinking about how atrocious his clothing smelled, and worried the washing may not fully rid the garments of their stench, he decided to create a fragrance. Knowing full well that humans often wore scents to conceal smells, but also for the purpose of attracting potential partners. Donatello scoffed at the thought, the likelihood of him finding another person who shared mutual interest during the, more than likely short, duration of his experiment was slim at best. 

As if he were concocting a a witches brew, the bespectacled lad swirled together various scents into one of his unused beakers. In no time at all, he had a cologne with top notes of orange blossom and vanilla, middle hints of almond, and a musky base. More than satisfied with his Eau de Don, he dabbed it on gleefully.

All the sudden, a clatter came from the living room, and the sound of his brothers voices could be heard. Donatello’s smile dropped, there was no way they’d already returned from their mission, it felt as though they’d just left. The digital clock on one of his many computers proved him wrong, it was already 4:00am! He’d gotten so carried away in preparation for his excursion topside, that he paid no attention to how quickly the hours flew by. 

Thankfully, the time spent wasn’t a complete waste, he documented when he administered the ooze and was tracking the duration of it’s effectiveness. Exactly eight hours had elapsed, and he was still human. Quite an impressive lasting ability, he thought, giving himself a congratulatory pat on the back. Unfortunately, with his brothers now home, he was effectively trapped in his laboratory for the time being. He couldn’t just saunter out of his lab looking the way he did, what a spectacle that would be. 

“Looks like I have another sleepless night, er…well, day at this point.” He chuckled to himself, slumping back in his computer chair. It took two more hours before the potency of the ooze came to an end. The reversion from human to mutant being, unsurprisingly, more painful than the obverse. Now returned to his old turtle self, the purple masked ninja ventured out into the common room, only to find his brothers passed out on the couch and the floor. He stifled a laugh, turning on his heel back into his laboratory. Seizing this opportunity, he wasted no time administering himself more ooze and stealing up and away to the surface.

Wintry weather was drawing to a close, and a slight warmth danced on the breeze as spring began to move in. The mutant in human’s clothing relished in the glow of the sun, something he didn’t have the privilege of doing often. Strolling down the street like Toby McGuire in Spiderman, Donatello was smiling from ear to ear. He was topside in broad daylight and not a soul took notice of him, he couldn’t believe it, it almost felt like a dream.

Not paying attention to where he was going, the happy go lucky lad found himself lost in a more secluded side of town. Sure, he could easily navigate New York at night, but the city looked so different during the daytime. Suddenly, a cry of distress shattered his concentration. It came from somewhere nearby. Instinctively, the ninja rushed in the direction from which the voice originated.��

The shouts led him to an alleyway where two rough looking men circled around you, your hands poised to fight, but subtle shuddering alluded to hesitancy and fear. They were both very muscle bound, one slightly smaller than the other, with distinct purple dragon tattoos on their arms. When Donatello approached, they immediately took notice of his presence. 

“What’s going on here?” He demanded a response from the ne'er-do-wells, despite knowing the answer.

“Get outta here, four eyes.” the smaller thug scoffed, “You see, this little rat has something that we want.” and the larger man chimed in, “So, it’d be in your best interest if you left us to our business.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Donatello stood his ground, “It’d be in your best interest if you left them alone.” He then assumed a fighting stance. 

The brawnier of the two men eyed the brave young man and laughed incredulously. “And just what exactly are you going to do to stop us, little man?” 

To which Donatello replied, “Looks can be deceiving.” aside from having a height advantage, there was no denying that the thugs had significant size over him. They were far more massive compared to his still muscular, yet lithe, build. Finally acknowledging their potential threat, the two men advanced towards their new target, leaving their prey behind.

The stranger turned hero locked eyes with you, “Run, you have to get out of here, it’s not safe!” an exclamation that was cut short by the smaller thug, who came rushing at him, brandishing a knife. With keen reflexes, Donatello deflected the attack, kicking upwards at just the right moment to send the knife whipping over his assailant’s shoulder. Once you’d seen that maneuver, there was no way you were about to leave. You were far too intrigued by this ridiculously tall young man with undeniably amazing fighting skills, you yearned to learn more.

“Alright, mister fancy feet, it’s time to dance.” the larger man jested as he cracked is fists, fitting brass knuckles onto them. Donatello scanned the area and grabbed a nearby pipe from the dumpster, twirling it through the air, just as he would his bow staff. If there’s one thing his father taught him, it was that anything can be used as a weapon if wielded properly. 

“Haha, look at this, I guess dance class is over, and now it’s time for baton practi–” using the metal pipe, Donatello knocked the wind out of the hulking hoodlum before he could even finish his taunt, sending him flying backwards into a pile of garbage. 

“I suppose I can strike ‘taking out the trash’ from my list of chores.” Donatello snorted at his own one-liner and his gaze happened upon you, as you watched with wonder. A smile played across your lips, and you laughed at his witticism, waving to him. The suddenly flustered hero awkwardly waved back.

The knife wielding thug recovered his weapon, catching Donatello off-guard as he flirted with you, slipping the knife to his throat from behind. The thug was unsuccessful in his attempt, however, when the captive drove his heel into the man’s foot, causing him to release the knife. While his assailant was distracted, he reached both arms around, heaved the man over his shoulder, and back dropped him onto the hard pavement. There was no recovering from that attack anytime soon. He then shifted his stance to face the other foe, who had since recuperated from the previous assault. The behemoth barreled towards him like a charging rhinoceros. 

“Bad move, I know exactly how to deal with this.” Donatello smirked as he anchored himself with the pipe, and delivered a swift low kick to the thug’s ankles, causing him to topple to the ground. Confident that he had both enemies disabled, your victorious rescuer turned his attention to you.

“Are you alright?” the lanky lad inquired as he sprinted to your side, adrenaline still pumping from the fight. He failed to stop soon enough, resulting in him accidentally knocking you against one of the brick walls in the alleyway. The two of you were nose-to-nose, so close that you could feel each other’s breath. His towering form would have been intimidating, if not for the goofy smile on his face. 

“Aaah, oh my god, I am so sorry!” He promptly leapt back, “You didn’t need that on top of what you’ve already been through today. I am really, really sorry, I’m such a klutz.” He apologized profusely, running his fingers through his purple tinged black hair, refusing to meet your gaze.

“Jeeze, that was like something straight out of a cheesy rom-com.” You jested, in an attempt to ease his nerves. 

Not the reaction that he was expecting, the nervous hero let out a sigh of relief. “Y-yeah, I suppose that it was, wasn’t it?” He stuttered, still a bit anxious, but less so thanks to your funny observation. 

“And you’re certainly no klutz, I saw the way you fought off those goons, you’re incredible! How’d you learn to fight like that?” You asked him, eyes filled with amazement and genuine curiosity. 

“Well, my father taught me, along with my brothers…” Donatello replied flatly, in an attempt not to appear worked up by your compliment, for fear that he’d make a fool of himself further. Butterflies were forming in his chest, he’d never spoken to another person so close to his age, aside from April and Casey. 

Unfortunately for him, you were eager to learn more about your happenstance hero, and before he knew it, he was being quizzed rapid-fire. “Oh, you have brothers? How many?” and with barely a breath in between, you rattled off more questions. “What are their names? What’s yours?”

“Uuuh…three…Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo…And I’m--my names Donatello.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Donatello. My name is Y/N! What interesting names…are your parents big fans of Italian Renaissance artists?” You looked to him, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Okay, stop. STOP. I don’t recall agreeing to a game of 21 questions!” He put an end to your onslaught of inquiries. 

Enthusiasm quashed, you backed off, smiling at him sheepishly. Though it wasn’t long before you bounced back, and with one hand on your hip and the other pointing at Donatello, you offered a proposal. “Alright, then…Would you like to play 21 questions?” Your eyes flickering with anticipation, the same kind of unrelenting determination he frequently saw in his brother, Mikey. 

From experience with this personality type, Donatello knew it would be easier to simply humor you rather than try to get out of it. He was absolutely baffled by you, your intentions were unclear, and he was not certain that you were someone he could trust. Regardless, he reluctantly agreed to engage in your game. 

“I’m so sorry for that…sometimes I get a bit carried away. I enjoy meeting new people and learning about what factors lead to making that person into who they are.” You grinned, playfully kicking up your feet as you strolled down the street together. It was obvious that Donatello was trying to keep his distance, as the space between the two of you was fairly significant, to the point where it appeared as if you were walking separately. “You don’t trust me, do you?” He cursed at how perceptive you were. 

“Well, to be honest, no…not really. We’ve only just met.” He stated simply, his eyes scanning you up and down with suspicion. There was a long silence before you broke it with another question.

“How tall are you?” He was amused by the obvious question and quickly answered, “6'6”“ 

“You must garner a lot of attention walking down the street.” a comment that threw him into a fit of laughter as he thought about what he actually looked like. If only you knew how little he drew attention this way compared to if he strutted down the street in his real form. 

“What? HA! Me? No way. Now if I were–” Donatello clammed up, he nearly outed himself  to human that he’d just met. As if you’d ever believe him, but still…there was just something about you, you were easy to talk to. He laughed again at the thought before continuing, “Uuuh, so, you said that you have a dog, right?” He attempted to redirect your attention by also engaging in the game with his own inquiry. 

“What was that? You just trailed off mid-sentence.” an attempt to no avail, you demanded a reason for his inexplicable change of subject. “And…I don’t remember telling you that I have a dog.” in that moment, roles reversed, and you were the one suspicious of him. 

Another misstep, this was very out of character for Donatello; and for the first time in a while, he felt vulnerable. After some quick reflection, he realized that he’d picked up on the dog’s scent during your accidental close encounter in the alley earlier. Though his nose appeared human, his senses themselves, remained as sharp as they’d always been. 

“Are you a stalker?” You questioned him bluntly. 

“What? No, I’m not stalking you, I promise.” 

The sincerity of his answer confirmed your speculation to be false.“Alright…but I’m watching you!” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Who’s the stalker now?” the charming young man shot you a cheesy grin upon delivering his terrible joke. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he chuckled. A sudden breeze whipped up, startling the two of you. Even though the winter weather had mostly gone, a slight chill remained in the air. You shivered reflexively, realizing that you had sacrificed your coat amidst the chaos of escaping from Dr. Stockman’s laboratory. 

Donatello immediately noticed your discomfort and removed his flannel over-shirt, giving it to you with a warm smile. His cold blooded innards were not happy with his choice to shed clothing, and he was unable to disguise his own trembling reaction to the cold as he handed you his shirt. Without saying a word, you reached out a shaky hand and took it. While you were putting it on, a blush crossed you face for just a moment, as his scent wafted up from the clothing. 

“Thanks.” the pleasantry was all that you could muster for words as you fought hard to stave off your rosiness. 

“Purple looks good on you.” that sweet compliment pushed you over the edge, and your face flushed completely red as you turned away from him. 

“Y/N…Are you alri–” His sentence was brought to a halt as an all too familiar feeling hit him abruptly, indicating that the ooze’s potency was waning. Aware that his time as a human was now limited, he took a queue from his older brother, Raphael, and acted on instinct. The distressed young man proceeded to back away slowly before breaking out into a full sprint. With your back turned, you were none the wiser. Feeling suddenly alone, you finally turned to find that your escort had vanished, leaving only his flannel shirt to remember him by.

…to be continued.

[rosaliamorais]

a guide to eventually getting framed for murder by the police, probably, as told by rosa.

mentioned: @ivyleagves, @holdenwoodz, @figurchead

Part One ( You. )

Do you have any criminal history? Anything big or small that you want to make us aware of?

“No.” The answer is a little too quick, a little too panicked to seem entirely true. Her nerves are shot, her blood is laced with caffeine. She can’t stop shaking; hopefully they chalk it up to her anxiety. That is, after all, a major part of why she can’t seem to sit still, her usual decorum is lost-- forgotten and left to rot on the forest floor, just as she had been. Just as she’d learned Nathaniel had been. That thought churns her stomach, brings a welling of tears to her eyes. She squeezes them shut for just long enough to clear her vision and not a second more. Closing them for too long is a mistake. Trying to force herself into falling asleep for the past two nights was enough proof of that. Even still, her quick answer boiled down to mostly being about the fact that the other twenty-nine students involved in this case now knew her deepest, darkest secret. Unfortunately for some of the police officers in this very precinct, they knew it too. They just hadn’t needed the blog to tell them. “I have no criminal record. I’d be pretty stupid to pursue law, if that were the case.”

How have you spent the few weeks back at college? What have they been like?

An incredulous gaze lifts from the place her hands are fidgeting on the table, brows furrowing as she tilts her head. “Are you kidding me?” A breathy laugh, cold and unamused. “I’ve spent them in total fear, Elaine.” She says the name with the venomous taste of condescension on her tongue, only to turn to the younger officer immediately after, her expression puzzled. “You’re sure you want to work here, Mikey? I’m pretty sure you’d be better off training under Starsky and Hutch.” The girl who would’ve come into this interview all of a week ago was nowhere to be found amidst her foul temperament and biting remarks today. In spite of the current state of affairs surrounding her reputation, Rosa had always been respectful to the right authorities, even if she felt they were undeserving. 

The person answering these questions retained nothing of that polite, well-mannered mask. “They’ve been horrifying. One day I’m celebrating making it to my senior year, the next I’m worrying about whether or not any of the people who knew Daisey were going to see graduation.” A faux-thoughtful expression crosses her face before she speaks again. “Oh, and then the local police force decided to keep us all on lock-down, like we’re kindergartners on a field trip. And would you believe that it didn’t help anything at all, because four of us went missing under their oh-so watchful eyes? One of us were even murdered? The second one in a month? I don’t know. Maybe, if you ignore all of that crap, it’s been a great last year before for law school.”

Part Two ( Daisey. )

How did you know Miss. Rutherford? What was the nature of your relationship?

“We barely associated. We had a few petty arguments now and then; academic rivals, I suppose.” You guys aren’t asking the right questions. This won’t help anything. The thoughts nearly tumble from her careless lips, only kept back by Rosa’s tightly clenched jaw. “She was a cruel and vindictive sociopath, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that much. Even with your way of investigating. Point is, I didn’t care about her until she went missing. I was just focused on getting into Harvard. I don’t have the time to spare on actively hating someone. Other than being a snarky annoyance, Daisey wasn’t on my radar. Everyone was on hers, though. Girl had no life aside from getting off to the sound of people crying.”

Do you remember where you were the night Daisey went missing? If so, where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with?

“I was at Oz Lamar’s party, same as basically everyone else at St. E’s. I spent part of the night with my gi-- my friend, Ivy Westbrook. We did shots together, I got super drunk, and then I met Holden Woods and we became besties in the bathroom.” She produced her phone in order to scroll through several of their blurry, intoxicated pictures together. “These span over an hour. So, clearly I was having the time of my life, I guess.” At least the change of subject subdued her sudden temper, her demeanor visibly simmering down.

Did you notice anything strange about Daisey’s behavior the night she went missing? Did you notice anything suspicious about anyone else you ran into that night?

“All I remember of Daisey that night is seeing her dry humping someone who was definitely not her fiance.” That’s all she plans to say, before she decides to tell them more before they can demand it. “I saw her making out with someone else. I don’t know who it was, because I’d assumed it was the guy-- is his name Octopus? No, that’s stupid. I don’t know.” She takes a second to collect her thoughts, lips pursed in her concentration. “Anyway, I thought it was him. Clearly, I didn’t want to be privy to a peep show, so I ran through the hall. That’s when I ran into the poor guy. Completely unaware Daisey was hooking up with someone else.”

Where were you the night Daisey’s body was recovered?

“I heard while I was in the grocery store. Everyone around me started talking about it, and someone turned on the TV. Everyone in the store just stopped and stared, horrified. No one wanted to believe it. Regardless of what kind of person she was, she didn’t deserve to die.” Rosa can still recall the look on every single stranger’s face that day. “It was so... quiet in there after the broadcast went off. Not another word was spoken, like an infinite moment of silence.”

How familiar are you with the Ashmont woods? Have you been there often? Have you recently ventured out here? If so, why?

“Fuck you.” She pushes her chair back with a deafening screech of the legs against the floor, poised to get up and leave. An empty gesture, apparently, since she stays in her seat. The room is blending together now, her eyes trying to find something to anchor her to the room, to remind her of where she is. Each of her hands find the lining of her seat, her white-knuckled grip doing nothing to help. She finds herself breathing in uneven patterns, heart palpitating as she tries to distract herself. This is pathetic: one mention of the woods and she’s unraveling, spiraling into a panic attack faster than she’s ever done so before. She’s avoiding either officer’s gaze out of humiliation, unwilling to ask for help. The sound of her own voice calling out that night, begging for a savoir, is an echo in her mind. The concrete floor of the police station suddenly looks a lot like the blood-riddled leaves coating the ground in the Ashmont woods.

You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re here. The voice reminding her of her safety isn’t her own. It’s Ivy’s, gentle and careful and warm, the same words she’d woken up to, after being pulled from a nightmare on the night they spent together. The memory slowly overtakes the one Rosa’s trapped in, the rough edges of the treeline enveloping her smoothing out, fading back into the recesses of her mind as she concentrates on breathing. Her relief is palpable as the comfort of home brings her back to her senses slowly, allowing her to melt into the chair once again. A hand covers her eyes as Rosa motions for the questions to continue and clears her throat. “I’m intimately familiar with the depths of that forest, considering how you and your incompetent officers nearly let me die there, thanks for reminding me.” She broke her words in order to pull in a deep sigh, the only thing keeping her from crying being her adamant desire not to deal with these people for a second time. “I don’t want a break, I’m fine. Keep asking your stupid fucking questions, because I’m not coming back for another one of these.”

Part Three ( the Investigation. )

Do you have feelings towards the investigation? Any comments?

“Just one,” Rosa takes a moment to steady herself before she looks the lead detective in the eye once again, defiance scribbled across her features, jaw set. “Do better before someone finds dead student number three in some storage building.”

Do you have any people you feel the police should look into? Please, let us know who and why.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to answer these inane inquiries, and her expression shows it. “I guess the fiance. I wouldn’t be happy if I found out the girl I was engaged to was sleeping with other people. I don’t know if he knew, so I’d break that to him gently. Daisey was a good liar.”

Part Four ( Weekly Events. )

Where were you kidnapped from? What do you remember of your abduction?

She’s moving uneasily in her chair once again, the only thing holding her facade together the mantra she’s still repeating in her head. Nerves make it hard for her to be angry, the rage from a few moments ago swapped out with unease, her hands back to wringing together, her foot beginning to tap against the floor. “I don’t remember any of that. Doctors said I could’ve blocked it out, or something, but I can’t even remember waking up that morning. As far as I’m concerned, that entire day is gone.”

What details do you recall from the time you were captured to the time you were released?

“Details?” Rosa’s disapproving scoff is half-hearted now, as she fights to recall the fuzzy memories in as calculating a way as possible. She couldn’t-- wouldn’t-- freak out again. “There aren’t details. At least, not for me. I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. I was awake for all of it, and I couldn’t even get the blindfold off.” The tears that’d made such a fuss trying to escape her eyes are finally streaming freely down her face, but she’s too preoccupied to notice. “My arms were tied down to a chair,” her hands instinctively gravitated to the burns on her wrists, “and my legs were tied together. My mouth, um, was duct taped… and… there were these headphones on me. Noise cancelling, I guess, unless whoever took me was a monk.” She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat, eyes searching the table in front of her as she went on. “They fed me this disgusting-- I guess soup? And gave me water twice a day. They were always wearing gloves, so I don’t even know if they had long fingernails.”

Did you learn anything about your kidnapper? Any facial details, an accent, any knowledge that you can share to help police in their investigation?

Her irritability resurfaces at lightning speed as she realizes how little she’s being listened to. A spark of recognition lights her face up, jaw dropping as she wiped her cheeks in a fervor. “Wait, no, I remember it. I remember everything.” Shaking hands ushered for the detective to grab her pen and paper. “Write this down, hurry-- before I forget again.” Rosa nods to herself as she begins to recount everything she knows. “It was a man, stocky build. He had white hair, and… it was spiky. A dark goatee, with a little light patch right in the middle. I couldn’t see his eyes, because he was wearing these thin, plastic, black sunglasses.” She clapped once, as if in celebration. “And every time he came to give me food, he pulled my headphones off just enough for me to hear him scream FLAVORTOWN! as he poured it down my throat.”

“Oh, wait, that’s Guy Fieri. I guess I didn’t miraculously remember anything since the last time I answered that, two minutes ago.”

Were you aware of any of the other kidnap victims when you were taken? Do you have any information or insight into the death of Nathaniel Ballantyne?

“I thought I was the only one until I heard people talking about the others. I had no idea there were more of us. I don’t even know if we were in the same place.” She stands up with her shoulders straight, the clothes she’d tried to sleep in still hanging freely off her figure. “As fun as this was, I’m going to go back to bed and do my very best to remember every detail of my excruciating days in hell so you can ultimately waste it on your corkboard and red string investigative approach. See you when the next round of people die, yeah?” With that, she takes her graceful leave.

[tiredgiovanni]

The Road to Anarchism PT.2

Hello again! Here’s the second part of that story I posted yesterday! I didn’t want to post it all at the same time, so here ya go!

  The wooden bat crashed through the passenger side window, sending glass showering down onto the sidewalk and setting the car alarm off, it’s lights flashing in a robotic panic. Adria didn’t notice her mouth was hanging open, until the night breeze hit her mouth. She looked up to Chace, utterly at a loss. His face was lit up as if it were Christmas, his head dipped towards her, his eye winked, and he bounced into an overly expressive jog towards the car. “Let’s get at it!” He called, pulling the baseball bat from the window and slamming it into the car door. Adria couldn’t move. This was, so wrong. Maybe? Chace said the mayor was shifty, perhaps laundering money. Chace swung the bat down from over his head, caving the top of the car. Then he turned, and tapped the car door with the head of the bat. “Wanna swing?” He asked, ignoring the lights coming on in at least one window of every house on the street. Adria looked to the window above the garage of the house they were at, a frightened older man stared down in horror. Chace followed her gaze and nodded as if to some inaudible beat before raising his hand and flipping the man off. “Fuck politicians.” The old man appeared to be fumbling with a cellphone, doubtlessly calling the police.   “We need to leave. We really need to leave.” Adria turned her gaze to the house across the street, a figure staring out of the window. “We’re going to get arrested. Or shot. Or worse. Oh the Sheriff is going to be so mad.” She knew that if she could breathe, she’d be hyperventilating right now. Chace nodded, much too casually, but seemed to agree. He made sure to bash his bat into the car door twice more before turning his head to her.   “Yeah, we’d best ditch.” He said, starting back towards her. “TAXES FUCKER. Fix ‘em.” He shouted, up at the window above the garage, before jogging straight past her. She nearly missed him, staring at him for only a second before bolting after him. She wasn’t nearly as fast at him, she couldn’t remember the last time she actually ran. No, she could. It was on the streets of Rome three years ago. She pushed the thought from her head and followed after Chace, nearly running into him as he skidded to a stop. Police sirens, they were running straight for them.   “This way.” She tugged him to the side, running into another houses backyard, climbing up a swing set and leaping onto the tall wooden privacy fence. Chace started at her as she tried scrambling up it, and shoved her over by the bottoms of the feet. She hit the ground unceremoniously with a loud thud and groaned as she thought of how dirty she must’ve gotten her blouse. Chace dropped from the fence gracefully, and offered her a hand, which she took. She was about to thank him, when she actually saw the police cars driving down the road towards the gate to the community. Chace was already prying through the black iron fence, climbing through and sprinting for the backyard next door to the community. Adria slipped through the fence and gave chase. He started to vault over the next privacy fence, but stopped halfway, headbutting the fence as he slid to his knees and hooked his fingers together to form a platform. Adria stepped onto his hand and was doing fine climbing, until Chace shoved her up and over. She managed to roll into the fall, and pushed herself off the ground with flat palms, glowering over to him as he dropped down beside her. It was impossible to be upset at him when he constantly wore the same expression of an excited puppy, though.  Three more backyards, thankfully only the third had another damned privacy fence, and that most everyone seemed to be out front of their homes goggling at the swarm of police cars blocking the main road. Just as she was about to attempt scrambling up the exterior fence to the third yard, chase grabbed her sleeve, and nodded towards the pool. “What?” Adria hissed. “You want to go for a swim? Are you insane?” Chace just looked amused, which was getting increasingly frustrating as the night went on. He stepped to the grill, hefted it quietly up, and picked up the brick that held up one of the wobbly legs before handing it to her. She hesitantly took it, squinting her eyes at him as he stepped around her. The next thing she knew Chace’s palm hit the small of her back and she was slowly sinking to the bottom of the pool, with water filling her mouth and nose. It was weird to feel like you were drowning when you knew you couldn’t. Chace didn’t join her. After a minute, she wondered if he’d gotten caught. It was silent in the depths of the pool. It was lonely, and almost unbearable to think of what might be happening up top. How loud had the splashing sound been? Did someone hear her falling into the pool? She told herself that he was just hunting for something to weigh him down, pressing her head back against the wall of the pool, staring upwards and waiting for the familiar black leather jacket and floppy green hair to come into view. It didn’t. She didn’t know how long she waited, but she knew dawn was coming. Her eyes were trying to close, her body was growing stiffer. Then a hand gripped the collar of her shirt and drug her up and she found herself flopping on the paving stones of the backyard like a dying fish. Water poured out of her mouth, and it tasted awful. She raised her hand to wipe her eyes, squinting up at the cheerful man. “Where were you?” She tried, brow knitted and lips down-turned.  “Oh, I was tryna get them off your tail. Didn’t want them catching you.” He said, clearly proud of himself. “And cops never catch me.” He grinned smugly, patting her on her shoulder and hefting her to her feet as he stood up. She dropped the brick and it hit the ground heavily. Like she had. After they jumped every fence.  “I thought you’d left me.” She hushed. “I thought you’d ditched me because I was slow.” Chace’s amusement left, and now he just looked confused.  “Slow? If you were slow I would’ve just carrie-” Adria sniffled, eyes watering - rather bleeding since she’d lost the ability to form tears after her death - and Chace frowned. For the first time that night. It made her feel even worse. He wrapped her up in a hug, and she almost thought about fighting the weird, stranger who didn’t even know her name off of her...but it’d been so long since she’d felt a hug, and he obviously meant well. She tried to pretend like she wasn’t crying into some chaotic strangers shirt in the backyard of a random citizen sopping with pool water after vandalizing the mayor's car. She did. And it worked for a moment, until a tapping caught their attention. They both turned to the glass sliding door to see a small, chubby, red-headed child with a cereal bowl in one hand, and his other hand outstretched to tap on the window. Adria immediately scrunched up her lips and bared her fangs, trying to scare the child - God knows no one would believe there was a vampire with bloody tears running down her face hissing at a child through his backdoor like a rabid opossum. The child dropped the bowl instead though, shouting something as his hand reached for the sliding door. Chace didn’t seem particularly concerned, but Adria was already trying to ditch.  “ARE YOU VAMPIRES?” A chipper young voice hissed out discreetly. Adria turned her head down to look at the door from halfway over the fence. A mousy brown haired boy with pale skin and dark bags under his eyes stared at the pair from further back in the room, a half eaten pop tart in hand.  “Vvhy yess, vve are childe.” Chace said in a terrible mock accent.  “Are...are you two home alone?” Adria asked, still atop the fence.  “Oh god, they’re awful scam artists Jules, close the door.” The brown haired boy groaned. The red head nodded though.  “Yeah, dad left for work half an hour ago and mom left to drop Mikey of-” The brown haired boy stepped up to the door, and slowly drug the door closed, staring Chace in the eyes the entire time, before turning and saying something to his friend. The red head didn’t seem to comply and slid the door back open.       “Okay Liam says that I shouldn’t tell you guys so much but I just wanted to say it’s cool to meet vampires, thanks for dropping by.” He said, starting to slide the door closed.  “Kid, Jules, was it?” Adria tried. “Want to make a deal with me?” She asked and Liam sighed, staring at Julian like he was a moron.  “Oh, sure yeah, what kind of deal?” He asked, hanging his head further out the door.  “I’ll give you this,” She held up a silver ring with a small sodalite stone in it. “In exchange for not telling anyone about what we are, or that you saw us.”  “I mean, no one would believe me even if I did.”  “Well all good deeds must go rewarded, no?” She replied, tossing the ring to him. Julian stared at it for a moment, perhaps entranced by the fact that it appeared to be an expensive ring.  “Oh, hey, how are you guys going to get home before the sun comes up? Do you live nearby?” Adria looked up at the sky, which was progressively getting lighter, then back down to Chace. She didn’t have a home, and she didn’t know where his was.  “Eh, I mean...we might get a little toasty but I’m sure we’ll make it home.” Chace shrugged. The little ginger threw open the door.  “You guys can crash in the basement if you want!” He said, causing the other boy to completely give up, and walk in the other room. Adria actually considered, pursing her lips as she did so. “Don’t worry, we don’t use the basement for much of anything, it’s just a storage room and it doesn’t have windows, so you’ll be safe until tonight.” Julian said, smiling widely for just a second before his chunky electronic watch began beeping. “The bus!!” He shrieked, and started to run back inside. “OH yeah,” He halted. “It’s nice to meet you guys and you’re welcome to come inside. We don’t have any radishes or anything.”  “It’s GARLIC Julian.” the other boy shouted as he clicked open the front door.  “NO!” The ginger shouted, sprinting after his the other boy. Adria and Chace just stared for a second, unsure of what exactly just happened. Had a child seriously just invited them into his home? Had a child seriously not been terrified at the thought of a horrible creature of the night. Probably a twilight fan. Chace stepped inside the house, looking around, picking up a snow-globe from the assortment on the mantle.  “Seriously?” Adria tried. “Chace NO.” She groaned in complaint, trying to get him to understand how ridiculous this was, just as a beam of sunlight shot over the trees and hit her square in the forehead, sizzling the flesh, the pain causing her to lose her balance. It was only the sixth time of falling over a 7 foot fence that night, it’d stopped hurting so much after the fourth, not to mention she couldn’t feel much past the crackling burn on her face. “Okay, okay, we’ll crash in some kids basement.” She resigned, following Chase inside and closing the door behind her. It was a nice, pristine house. Your typical suburban family dwelling. Lots of family pictures on the wall, crocheted doilies on the tables, snow-globes - how tacky.  “You never told me your name.” Chace said, without the slightest bit of suspicion to it. In fact he seemed to be attempting to locate the remote control for the television. “You don’t have to tell me though, if you don’t want to.” He said, shrugging as he plopped down on the couch and channel surfing.  “Are you not tired?” She asked, furrowing her brows at him. He shrugged. Why did she have the urge to literally die and he seemed content to stay awake for the rest of the morning? “I’m...I’m Adria. It’s nice to actually meet you Chace.” She said, folding her arms as she turned her head to watch whatever he landed on for more than five seconds. He didn’t land on many, for more than five seconds.   “You can stay with me, if you want.” He replied, after a bit, pausing his channel surfing to look up at her. “I can help protect you from whatever it is you’re running from.” He offered, and Adria felt her face scrunch.   “I don’t know why you’d offer that to a stranger.”   “You’re not a stranger though,” He said gleefully. “you’re Adria.” She pursed her lips at him and he shrugged again. “Like I said, you look like you need somebody. I’m somebody. I’m not trying to force you into making any decisions though.”   “Thank you.” She hushed, and Chace gave her a serious look. “Not many people have given me the time of day since this happened. Not even people like you or me. I just.., don’t want someone who’s genuinely kind to get hurt because of me.” She said, wiping her cheek dry and staring at her bloody hand in disgust. Chace was silent for a second, then nearly fell off the couch laughing.   “After tonight, I think you getting me hurt would make us even, pal.” He said, recovering from his wheezing fit enough to stand up and turn off the TV. “Okay, okay we’d better find the basement, who knows when the kids mom will be home.” He said, starting off through the house. Adria was getting more and more confused to who this man was and what possible motive he could have for being so kind to her, but she was beginning to accept that he might genuinely be doing this out of the kindness of his heart. She didn’t want to get close to another kind person, just to realize she’d somehow tricked them into being her friend. She didn’t know if she wanted another friend. On the other hand, she didn’t think she could beat Chace in a fight, so maybe if it was a trick she wouldn’t have to worry about the outcome. She followed.   Chase was opening a closet when she found him, he closed it and moved on to the next door. “Do you think that kid is going to rat us out?” Adria asked. Chace stopped, thought about it for a second, then shook his head.   “Seemed honest.” He said, opening another door. A bathroom. He closed the door, and tried the next, the one at the end of the hall. A descent into a pitch black room. He started down it, turning on a light dangling loosely from the ceiling by a thin, beaded string. Adria followed him down stairs, closing the door behind her. It was a tiny room, filled with a bunch of junk. Enough space to spend the day though.   “Do you think there’s rats down here?”   “Ehhh….did you see how clean it was up there? I doubt it.” Chace replied, standing and investigating the state of the basement. “I mean, it is a trainwreck down here though. Maybe.”   “Augh.” Adria frowned, investigating for signs of vermin. She didn’t fancy getting gnawed on while she slept. Most of the things in the basement, didn’t appear to have been touched since they moved here. Boxes, plastic tubs doubtlessly full of things, tacky angels and knickknacks on old, falling apart shelves. She did find a moving blanket, and tossed it down beside the stairwell, which was hopefully out of sight if anyone opened up the door. A crashing sound caught her attention, and she turned to see Chace balancing most of a box on one hand and holding up one, purple rectangle with straps on it.   “MOON BOOTS.” He shouted, excitedly, ignoring the plastic dinosaur that had taken a hard spill from the box in his hand.   “What?” She furrowed her brows and he looked taken aback.   “Moon boots. MOON BOOTS.” He tossed one towards her, while he scrambled through the box for the other. The moon boot hit the wall beside her, and she stared at it on the ground. “I can’t believe you don’t remember moon boots. How old are you?” He asked.   “Twenty four.” She said, dryly. “This is not a boot. It’s not even shaped like a boot?”   “AHA.” He sent half a deck of Yu-gi-oh cards flying through the air as he pulled another boot out, and dropped the box on the ground next to the dinosaur, stumbling as he tried to strap the boot onto his too large foot. “Throw me the other one.” He said, and Adria did so. Soon, Chace was walking goofily around in circles. “They’re anti-gravity boots. It’s like walking on air.” He said dramatically. Adria tried to hide her amusement, which was short lived as the front door slammed closed. Both Adria and Chace halted all movement, and Adria climbed up the stairs from the side, clicking the lights off before whoever came home saw the light from under the door. Chace turned on his phone screen so that she could make her way back to the floor without falling, and she settled on the moving blanket. Chace moon-booted his way over to the side of the stairwell also, settling down against the conjoining wall. Adria wasn’t wholly comfortable with letting herself go unconscious in this strange basement. She trusted Chace though. She didn’t know why she did, but she did. If he felt safe, she supposed she could too.   “Hey, Chace?” She hushed, ensuring to keep her voice low enough that no one would hear her.   “Yeah?”   “I had fun tonight.” It felt dumb to say it, seeing as how her face probably looked like someone left plastic on the stove top, and she every inch of her felt sore. She heard Chace laughing, quite obviously physically forcing himself to keep quiet.   “Me too.” He wheezed, causing Adria to grin into the darkness, it was safe now that he couldn’t see her. What a dummy. Part of her wanted to tell him that she was glad she ran into him, the other half didn’t want to be so open. Truth be told this was the most she’d felt in a while. Even if most of it was utter shock and exasperation. She was happy to have a friend. She hoped he would be okay with being her friend.

[mollykittykat]

The Cupboard Game pt. 5

AU in which Splinter evaded the contents of the mutagen canister and ended up raising the turtles as a human.

No real warnings apply. Mostly family fluff and adventure with a teeny hint of angst. (Also available on A03: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10471893/chapters/23527710))

The roar of distant engines was masked by the sound of water pounding pavement and claps of retreating thunder growing softer by the hour, spaced by long intervals of silence. The wind too wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been before, but despite the signs that the storm was passing through the rain prevailed, still coming down heavily enough to impede Splinter’s vision. His hands dug into the pocket of his slacks, searching for the switchblade in order to have it at the ready, but he came up empty and remembered it had been lost inside the pocket of the jacket he had shed in the subway station. No matter. He didn’t need a weapon. He didn’t know how many people would be waiting for him at the apartment but God help them if they laid a hand on his sons. Then came the crosswalks. They were a sign that he was getting close to his destination, but with them came close calls with oncoming cars. After the holdup in the subway Splinter wasn’t about to stand around and wait for the walk signal to turn, and in his impatience he narrowly avoided a few bumpers as horns honked and men swore. He began to reach the backroads leading up to home, and as the population grew more sparse risky trips across roads became less treacherous. Sometimes no cars would come at him at all, even when his own light was red.

Of course it happened in the one instance he’d least expect it. Of course it happened one moment where it didn’t make any sense.

The light shone as a bright white walk signal timed perfectly to his desperate sprint. However, Splinter had only made it midway across the road when there was an ear piercing screech of tires. The man piloting the vehicle didn’t have any lights on, and by the time Splinter saw his own reflection of the fast-approaching windshield it was too late. Being mid stride his knees and ankles were spared from being smashed by the bumper but the windshield ended up slamming into his side, sending him toppling over the roof over the trunk and onto the road behind the reckless driver. A few silent seconds passed in which Splinter simply laid upon the concrete, curled up in an overflowing pothole, his body seized with a shock as rain continued to batter him unceasingly. Numbness was soon to be followed by pain; hips, shoulders, back and ribs… all searing. His head still had met with the pavement pretty hard too, but not nearly hard enough to make him forget his mission. Shakily he rose to his hands and knees, fighting the urge to just lay there until his breaths stopped feeling like fingernails raking against the inside of his lungs. The lightless car had finally stopped. There was the sound of a door opening, undoubtably someone coming to check on him.

“Please give me a ride” Splinter begged internally, certain the pain would be worth the price of a quick shortcut home “Please give me a ride. Please please please please…”

Footsteps on the pavement moved in his direction. Multiple sets of footsteps all shuffling out in a messy patter, conversation of men sucked inside of the continued drum of rainfall. Splinter felt another car come up behind him. A wave of panic flashed over him for an instant and he flinched, but this vehicle stopped long before it touched him. Relief aside, the sudden high beams were unwelcome, their appearance worsening the nausea bubbling up from the ache of his injuries. Again the sound of opening car doors, another set of footsteps, another bustle of men rushing over to examine him.

“Hey, wait… isn’t this the guy we’re looking for?”

Splinter tried forcing his eyes to adjust past the sudden glare of headlights as he heard these words spoken in a gruff unfamiliar voice. High beams, dark surroundings, and his own position on his hands and knees worked together to warp the surrounding onlookers into shadow people; a mass of similar bodies with similar physiques all dressed in a similar fashion, faces impossible to distinguish. Their words, however, were telling, but the uncaring tone of their voice was what struck Splinter as especially unsettling.

“Dunno. Looks like ‘im, and the Fulci twin said e’ would be coming in this direction.” “The twin? Which one?” “Dunno. Can’t tell between the two, y’know?”

They came a little closer and Splinter began to see his earlier interpretation was not simply a trick of the light. All of them, ten in total, looked similar. They all had similar physiques, and as for their faces… every single one of them was wearing a ski mask. “Who… are you?” Splinter presented his question gently and calmly despite his overwhelming desire to scream in frustration. He recognized who these people were, he knew they were working for Visioso, and although they were merely grunt workers without the combat skills of The Fulci family or The Hammer they still posed a threat thanks to their sheer numbers and loaded guns. Having just been hit by a car didn’t help either. “What’s going on? am I… being robbed?” “C’mon Mister Takada, you’re not foolin’ us” Splinter felt the butt of a tommy gun nudge the side of his head. “We know what we’re looking for. Asian, broad shouldered, hair greying a few years early…” Splinter shifted slightly to sit on his knees and pointed through the curtain of rain at a distant empty street. “Just like that guy over there?” Every set of eyes that had once been fixed on him followed the direction of his gesture, glancing down the empty road. Seeing nothing, they frowned beneath their masks “Whaddaya mean just like-” Before the thug could finish his question the back end of his comrade’s gun was planted in his stomach, Splinter taking hold of the object that had previously been resting against his own temple to bring down the first man in his sights. Still gripping the weapon he swung his arm back again, ramming the barrel into the throat of the guy behind him, weapon going off just a few seconds short of burying ammo into the attacker’s neck. The old “look over there” trick. Easiest and oldest misdirection method in the book. Another spray of bullets went airborne as Splinter continued grappling with his assailants, the heel of his shoe smashing into the jaw of one of the masked men before he cleared an opening to the nearest alley. The sparking patter of bullets followed Splinter along the wall until he disappeared into the darkness between the buildings, a newfound stumble to the strides of his sprint as he was pursued by shouts, gunfire, and manic footsteps

Vinnie turned the knob to the coat closet and Marco headed in, tugging back jackets and cheap polyester winter wear to reveal what may be hiding behind them. Leonardo was thankful that he hadn’t chosen such an obvious hiding spot. Instead he had wedged himself tightly in the crook of the ceiling, holding himself in place by the tension of arms and legs against the far wall and the doorway. Pulling out large file boxes, the invaders thought they were on to something concerning lawyers or financial troubles, but Leonardo could tell even before they dumped out the contents that it was only their homework awaiting Splinter's weekend grading session; sets of writing exercises, worksheets about plant growth and the water cycle, pages of simple addition and subtraction equations, and a pile of miscellaneous highschool textbooks which were at present the only thing that present a real challenge to the intellectually advanced Donatello.

Leo winced when the camera flared up with another click, the men just beneath him continuing in conversation, sounding increasingly confused as they read off the worksheets to each other. The tot, out of morbid curiosity, attempted to catch a better look at the threats, but found he couldn’t see any features beyond the large fedoras covering the tops of their heads, casting opaque shadows over their faces. “If you can see their eyes, then they can see yours too” was his father’s warning one summer day some months back, when he had caught them trying to peel the translucent film from the apartment window to get a better look at the pedestrians. Back then the scolding was a precursor to punishment, but in this instance Leonardo found a strange sort of comfort in those words. He masked the light "pap" of his feet slipping to the ground with the next camera click and steadily rounded the doorway, barely a millimeter away from accidentally brushing up against Marco’s jacket before he slipped out of the cramped closet. After glancing behind him briefly to make sure he hadn’t been seen he broke out into a silent sprint to the sleeping area, where Raph was still curled up amongst the boxes, wide-eyed and shaky from his earlier close encounter.

Leonardo ducked half-way beneath the bed, took his sibling by the hands, and tugged in an effort to draw him out. There was a little bit of resistance at first, Raphael not wanting to leave his hiding spot. The more he kicked, however, the more he realized he was far more afraid of making a noise than being out in the open, so eventually he allowed himself to be lead away by his brother despite his worry. Hand in hand they dove behind the couch, peeked out to see the men still rooting through the papers in the coat closet, then sprinted the final distance to the open door, making it safely out of the compromised apartment into the vacant hallway. "Find Mikey” Leo whispered, releasing Raph’s hand to give him a bracing pat on the shoulder "Imma go get Don" Like before Raph looked like he wanted to argue. Like before he reached the conclusion that putting up a fight would waste precious time and draw unwanted attention. Thus, with a pout and the nod of his head, he tiptoed into the hall, whispering the name of the youngest while Leo slipped back out to collect his remaining brother.

Vinnie and Marco had moved on from the coat closet and were now double-checking the bookshelf, discussing the mystery stash of kids stuff as they dug through the collection of Doctor Suess, speculating about unknown relatives that could be tracked down. Once Leo made it to the kitchen area it took little searching before the ajar cabinet cracked open to reveal the ruddy brown eyes of the gap-toothed youngest, who was more than ready to follow the others out of the messy situation. Leo made a hushing motion and Donatello mirrored it. They exchanged a nod of understanding and the scientist began to climb out of hiding, unaware of the large stack of cooking pots sitting precariously close to his fingertips, just waiting for a nervous little toddler to give it a small accidental nudge… a nudge that would send it crashing down to the tile floor in a symphony of clatters that would put the broken mug from earlier to shame. In an earsplitting, heart stopping moment both the turtles were on the floor, staring wide eyed at the pots and pans scattered along the ground. Looking up from the mess they discovered two men in suits, fedoras atop their heads, far removed from the bookshelf as they were drawn the the kitchen area by the ruckus. Leo looked into their faces and his confidence fizzled. Brown eyes, green eyes, a round fat face and a square jaw, both expressions agape with surprise.

“If you can see their eyes, then they can see yours too”

Leo wasn’t sure who started screaming first… him, Donatello, or the thugs, but the next thing he knew he and his brother dashing out into the hall not caring two cents about stealth, the home invaders behind them shouting something loud and indistinguishable from deep within the apartment.

It was a mystery how anyone who just a few moments ago appeared immobile could scramble over the top of a high chain link fence so quickly. A few of the pursuing men had continued the chase in the same fashion, stumbling in the slippery footholds, clothes getting caught on the protruding edges of the fence before a goon of average intelligence noticed the padlock holding it closed. After being shot twice the lock fell to the ground in a heap of broken metal, and the barrier flung swung open to let in the flood of masked thugs. Awaiting them was a backstreet parking lot where company trucks and supply vans could easily reach the "employee's only" entrances of the currently unopened shops. Except for the gate there were no other exits, though ramps, metal railings, dumpsters, empty locked vehicles, and fire exits protruding from all of the surrounding buildings made for a decent set of hiding spots. Guns loaded they fanned out. Leaving two of their biggest men to guard the sole exit the group pointed their weapons in various direction as they stepped through the rain, a few of them very nearly opening fire on their coworkers when they rounded one of the obstacles and spotted each other through the downpour. Splinter in the meantime had found a momentary sanctuary inside a half-empty dumpster, returning his left shoulder to it’s proper place in it’s socket before checking himself over for other injures. His self-calming breathing exercises quickly proved to not be an option, not because of the scent of rot but because too deep of breaths shot daggers of pain through the ribs. A few careful touches against his chest and Splinter could safely say that the bones over his left lung were not merely sore, but cracked. But miraculously, despite the force with which he was hit, there no other damage besides some awful bruising that would undoubtably paint his torso black and blue come morning, but Splinter figured he should be thankful that the timing of the impact didn’t leave him forced to finish the journey home with broken calves. However, it was a meager bright side. His body still throbbed as punishment for his sudden movements, uncontrollable shivering due to the rain making things all the worse, but remaining still wasn’t an option. He had to make it home. He just wanted to go home. Was that truly too much to ask of the universe?

Splinter paused his reflections when the wandering sound of feet on gravel made it’s way to the outside of his hiding spot, coming to a stop right next to him. He tensed, setting his gaze upon the dumpster lid above him, working his mind for some sort of plan. There was a time when he knew how to disappear into the shadows seamlessly as a drop of water into a pond; one of many ninja skills pounded into him from a young age. Things had changed however, and though this sort of upbringing helped him teach the turtles how to move silently and hide themselves efficiently a good deal of what he himself had been raised with had now been dulled by other things; how to navigate big city streets, how to balance shoestring budgets, what type of spray was best to remove coffee from shag carpeting, how to use a floor buffer, methods of teaching beginner math to toddlers, etcetera. But despite it all Splinter knew the inner ninja was still there somewhere deep inside of him, he had proved it in the train station. He just needed to dig deep. He just needed to focus.

A masked duo, one of the four pairs of thugs roaming the parking lot, didn’t have much of a chance to exchange words, the shorter of the two a mere few seconds away from suggesting they check another area before he heard the shout of his comrade and the slamming of a dumpster lid behind him. Weapon upraised he spun around and was greeted with emptiness, excepting one final dull thud echoing out from within the dumpster followed by further silence. The remaining gunman swallowed a lump in his throat, cocked his shivering weapon, and made his approach. Knowing that blindly opening fire on the dumpster posed the risk of putting holes in his ally he was unsure what to do, and was trying to figure out a way to safely tug open the lid to the disposal when it shot open on it’s own, knocking his gun upward and into his nose. Before he could recover two dagger-like hands suddenly smashed into the pressure points on either side of his neck, a sharp jabbing pain causing his vision to flare up with white before he crumbled beneath a final blow to his chest. Another group was drawn over to the source of the commotion, soon to discover one unconscious man hanging half way of the dumpster and the other... newly weaponless... laying insensible at the foot of one of the many surrounding trucks. The perpetrator, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. They called the others over, checking the two downed thugs for pulses while the rest gathered together to find where their target had disappeared too. Once they had all accumulated in the same spot there came the strange gunfire. It’s source was muddled by the rain but it seemed to be coming from above. Aimed to disarm rather than do any serious damage weapons broke free from the holds of their owners in a flurry of sparks, and the first person to to notice Daiki on top of the nearest fire escape was the first to go down completely. Their attacker leapt from his perch, wielding the newly unloaded gun like a blunt weapon, jabbing it with inhuman precision into soft spots and pressure points, every man in arms reach crumpling like paper dolls the moment they became a target.

In a flurry of panic one masked thug broke away from his comrades and dove for his own gun lying in a puddle on the ground, but by the time he was locked, loaded, and back on his feet his target had already disappeared again, and the two unconscious men had turned into seven in his wake.

Finding himself without backup the last man standing turned around frantically, pointing his weapon in every direction possible as he slowly worked to make his way back over to where two of their best stood guard over the gate. Assuming Daiki hadn’t gotten to them yet there was only the three of them total, but as scary as ‘The Splinter’ was there was no way they were letting Don Visioso know that their entire crew got bested by one guy. He made it past the row of trucks, walking backwards, now in the sights of the men at the gate, who called out to him to ask what was going on. Good. That meant were still conscious.

“I’m beginning to see why Don Visioso wants this guy out of the picture!” the masked man shouted back through the rain, voice cracking slightly from stress as he kept his gun upraised, pointing it at every shadow that seemed to shift within the corner of his eye. In the distance there was a metallic snapping sound, like a lock breaking. Still walking backwards toward the gate the thug pointed his gun to the source of the noise, peering through the gaps of a metal railing to see back door to “Paul’s Meats” was now opened, rocking slowly on it’s rusted hinges in the wind.

Looked like Daiki was intent on making his own exit.