#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction

[mr-fenkbonk]

The end of chapter 14 of my rottmnt fanfiction “some time you’ve had” was eueueue to write and edit

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Hi! Sorry if it's a little bit late, I just wanted to say: Happy Anniversary!!! 🥳

WAAAAAAA THANK YOU

[phoebepheebsphibs]

What does the bad timeline au look like for your boys 👀

OOOOH, here we go!

(So, I did hint to this in the NFIF/UIFY Crossover when DvD met Omega, and Omega ran a simulation to see what DvD's future would be like. It was a general explanation, but I'm gonna go deeper into detail now --)

2020: So, first off, the Krang attack in 2020, same as in canon. Leon, 'Phael, Mikey, and DvD manage to survive the invasion by some miracle. For the first year, they just focus on staying alive and hidden from the aliens, but by the end of that first year the reunite with April and their friends and discover the beginnings of the Resistance. (Karai was separated from them all as well, but no one has seen her yet and so they all assume she's dead.)

2023-2025: Several years pass, and there is still no sign of Karai. While the boys are out doing a supply raid, they get ambushed by a Krang attack and are caught in a collapsing building. 'Phael freezes in panic and Leon takes a hit to rescue him, though the two are trapped in rubble together as they wait for Mikey and DvD to dig them out. However... Leon doesn't have that long, and encourages Raph as the leader of their family to stay strong and take care of Mikey and Donnie and April and everyone else...

Leo dies, having saved Raphael.

2025-2030: The three mourn their brother, but do their best to help lead the Resistance. In 2026, Cass gives birth to a son, and 'Phael helps her to raise the child. However, during these five years, tragedy strikes again. Michelangelo's hypoglycemia has been acting up due to the low rations, and in spite of their promptings to take care of himself, Mikey has been intentionally skipping meals so the others can take his rations, effectively starving himself. That, coupled with the injuries he gets from his ninpo overdrive, finally takes its toll on his frail body.

Mikey starves to death.

2030-2035: After Mikey's death, Donnie and Raph have a hard time staying cheerful. And to add to the grief, Cassandra dies in battle as well. But some good comes to light, as the group receives word of a lone stranger roaming New York and saving survivors while battling the Krang. After investigating, they discover that Karai has survived and become something of a folk hero! She joins their Resistance, bringing her own group of survivors with her. During this time, Raphael has grown to be a force to be reckoned with, and even the leader of the Resistance! Donatello is working around the clock to create weapons and grow nutritional, non-contaminated plants that they can eat safely. It's hard work, but no one said the end of the world was easy. DvD discovers a formula and equation that may work for time-travel, but he is unsure... he starts to build the machine.

2035-2044: The Resistance is not looking good. They can barely go above ground anymore without being picked off and slaughtered. The food and supplies are running low. 'Phael realizes that the end is coming, and there may be no escape. He has Donnie work full-time on the time machine, as it is their last hope. The Resistance grows smaller and smaller with each passing month, until it seems like it's just Raph, DvD, April, Karai, and Casey Jones Jr., along with a few special people like Big Mama Frida Kahlo. Finally, in 2044, the Krang find their hideout and begin to slaughter the last of the Resistance. Raph has CJ and Donnie evacuate into the labs with the time machine, and while Raph holds them off, Donnie begins to power the machine with his ninpo and what little electricity they have left. Raph instructs Casey on what to do, that he's sending him back in time -- not necessarily to stop the Krang, but more importantly to save Casey from the attack. If nothing else, Casey must survive. If Raph can do nothing else but make sure that his boy sees a world without war, where he is healthy... that will be enough for him. That will redeem his mistakes, how he let his brothers die because of his failures and fear. Casey has to live. He tells him to find his family, warn them, and to find his sister as well, because she -- Suddenly the Krang break into the room, and Casey is thrown into the time machine. Dee's ninpo goes into overdrive and powers the machine, though it costs him his life. Raph manages to hold the Krang off until the machine does it's duty, and then...

Raph and Donnie die sending Casey Jones Jr. into the past.

And yes, I did cry writing this.

[1tsuzukiagami7]

Leonardo dart frog and Raphael snake

[tvb0y]

He’s so happy! :D

Happy anniversary @sugarpasteltmnt !! I love your stuff and the neon void is such an amazing fanfic! And In honor of you;

A cute little neon void doodle :3

[thedemisapphic]

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 3 of These Are Not Our Masks!

@daboyau

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@iobsesswaytoomuch

@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist

@dluebirb

Raph and Leo snap back to attention at Draxum’s voice and arrival. He stands in front of a still open and glowing portal and has a look of pure disappointment on his face.

“You were supposed to collect your brothers and eliminate everyone else who stood in your way. Are you disobeying my orders!?”

Mikey holds onto Raph protectively.

“Yes they are! And nobody is going back with you!”

Draxum rolls his eyes.

“I should have made you all have some level of higher intelligence instead of putting it all in the purple one. This is not a situation where any of you have a choice.” His hand glows as he holds it out towards Raph and Leo.

The two of them scream out and hold onto their faces in pain.

Splinter steals one of Leo’s katanas and strikes at Draxum.

“You can not have them!

Draxum dodges.

“You fool, they were mine from the start! Now listen to my commands! Artemis! Atlas!”

Raph and Leo revert to their earlier behavior and go after both Mikey and Donnie.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N! Release the nets!” Donnie commands.

“Here they come!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shoots them out, getting both brothers caught and put to the floor.

They claw and thrash around which makes it clear the nets will not hold them for long. Another plan is needed, and fast.

“It’s a marvel what you’ve done with your limited resources. I’m sure you’ll make something better than this trash under my command.” Draxum waves his hand again.

Vines shoot up and around Donnie, completely surrounding him. A mask is held by several of them while others grab Donnie’s arms and legs.

The mask is smaller than the others, only being enough to cover his eyes. It’s metallic purple all across. There’s a goggle over one eyehole with two screws next to it’s top and bottom. The other side of the mask has gears and a geometric pattern around the eyehole.

If Donnie wasn’t in so much danger and didn’t know who it was from, he might actually be impressed.

He struggles heavily, also trying to bite the vines.

Splinter turns to help him but gets stopped by Draxum who he continues to fight with. Mikey pulls at the vines as much as he can. Every one he gets rid of has another pop up in its place.

“Donnie! BOOYAKASHA!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gives out a battle cry and starts mowing down the vines.

Draxum notices while continuing his fight and moves some vines to grab the drone. He tears him to pieces, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s head dropping to the floor.

Donnie’s eyes widen as his heart absolutely shatters alongside his robotic son.

“No! S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N! I’m going to turn you into lamb chops, do you hear me Draxum!?”

“Save that attitude for humanity.”

The vines with the mask slams it onto Donnie’s face.

Everything starts falling apart almost immediately afterwards.

Raph and Leo escape their nets, barreling towards Mikey since he’s the only one left without a mask.

Donnie is finally released from the vines.

That proves to be a mistake.

His fingers twitch unnaturally as he types, but he still manages to use his wrist device. Lasers start firing all over the place from different directions.

Leo gets distracted from chasing the lights, Mikey vaguely remembers when they were little and that worked on him.

Raph gets distracted trying to stop Leo from burning himself.

Mikey grabs at Donnie’s hand and attempts to get him to safety.

Donnie doesn’t move any inch.

“Leave me. Don’t go anywhere obvious. Warn April before she gets here. I’m destroying my controls for the tank. Go.”

Mikey tears up and shakes his head.

“No! I’m not-!”

Donnie slaps Mikey across the face, leaving him completely shocked and with scratch marks on his cheek.

“Did I ask you!? Do you know how hard it is to even be talking to you!? Get father and leave! Leave! LEAVE!”

Mikey runs and grabs his father’s hand instead, pulling him along as they run.

“Purple! Red! Blue! No! I will save you from this! I swear!” Splinter insists.

“What are you doing!? You’re letting them get away! Do as I say, Artemis, Apollo, Atlas!” Draxum orders.

Donnie suddenly appears next to him, having moved so fast the sheepman could hardly react in time. The wrist device is grabbed and smashed against his face as hard as possible.

Draxum shouts and reels back in pain.

Donnie tackles him, scratching and biting relentlessly.

“Artemis! Atlas! Get him off me!“

Raph and Leo move back over. Raph wraps both arms around Donnie tightly, lifting him off the ground.

Leo cackles.

It’s unsure if it’s at Draxum or Donnie.

Draxum stands up and glares down at the snapping soft shell.

“How are you able to resist my commands this much?”

Donnie spits at him.

“How should I know why your shoddy work isn’t functional!? I’ll tear you into pieces-“

“Now I remember, you didn’t steal one of my weapons. You aren’t attuned to mystic energy like my other creations. I’ll just have to imbue more of my energy in your mask. A simple solution that will also serve as your punishment.” Draxum places his hand on the mask.

Donnie’s throat hurts from how loud he screams.

Draxum smiles.

Donnie eventually goes limp, head only held up by Draxum’s hand. It falls down when he moves it away.

“Atlas, release him.”

Raph let’s go.

Donnie fails to his knees.

“Apollo, are you ready to be of use now?” Draxum questions.

Donnie lifts his head.

“Yes, Baron Draxum.”

Draxum smiles widely.

“Then it’s time you fulfill your purpose.”

Splinter portaled himself and Mikey into the tank then tossed the katana outside the hatch. It probably has some kind of a tracker, knowing Draxum.

He closes the hatch and gets into the driver’s seat. His heart aches as he knows he’s taking Raph’s place, but he presses the button to open the garage door and speeds the tank out of there.

Mikey silently sobs while sitting in his seat. Donnie might have hurt him, but he was doing it to get him to just listen and go. Maybe if he had just done that Donnie wouldn’t have anything to feel bad about later.

Splinter drives so fast that he barely has time to stop when they see April about to open a manhole.

Mikey very quickly hops out and pulls her in before Splinter speeds off again. He clings to her as much as he can, soaking her shirt with his tears. April squeezes him and decides to ignore the fact that she’s going to need a new shirt.

“What happened? Donnie texted SOS! Why isn’t he here!? Wait, why aren’t Leo and Raph here either!?”

Splinter grips the arms of the chair tightly.

“They’ve all been taken and forced to work under Draxum.”

April’s face pales.

“They’re….no way….Mikey’s the only one left?”

Splinter nods solemnly.

“I’m afraid so. Donatello warned us not to go anywhere obvious. They will look for us at your home. I know somewhere else we can go.”

“And that is?”

“LEMONADE! Todd’s special lemonade for my gue-! Oh no! What happened to you!?” Todd sets the tray with cups and pitcher down on his table and rushes over to Mikey and April.

Mikey sniffles and let’s go of April just to open up his arms to Todd.

Todd whistles and an army of puppies come running to tackle Mikey to the ground. They lick at his face, taking away any tears on it. He moves his head a bit so they don’t lick his scratch.

“Thanks Todd, I really needed this.”

“Of course! Anything for my best friend! But I could help a lot more if I knew what happened!”

Mikey sadly tells the entire story, fully filling everyone present in.

April and Splinter look even more terrified. Neither of them knew exactly how bad it had gotten. Now they’re aware that might be entirely screwed.

“Donnie did that to you….?”

“H-He wouldn’t have done it if he could help it. Even with how hard it was to talk, he wanted me to remember to warn you, April.”

She feels a little choked up that Donnie used some of his last bits of sanity to worry about her. April rejected hanging out with them today in favor of spending some time relaxing with Mayhem. If she had been there, she could have done something.

No, no time to think about that. She’s here now and her pseudo brothers need her.

“We need a plan! We can’t just let Draxum use them like puppets! Splints, what are our options?”

“If this is what I believe it to be….then I am not sure….but I do know where I can get some information. That auction house must have some of my family scrolls since they continue to sell things from my time as Lou Jitsu.”

“Then we go looking! There’s no time to waste!”

“Y-Yeah, let’s go!” Mikey tries to sit up.

April gently pushes him back into the puppy pile.

“Sorry buddy. It’s better for you to be here where they won’t find you. Todd will protect you, right Todd?”

Todd rips off his shirt and shows off a surprisingly good physique.

“Nothing will get to my pal while I’m here!”

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting all that, but my point is proven.”

“But I want to help! Leo and Donnie….they both made sure I wasn’t taken….I have to repay the favor by helping fix them!” Mikey whines.

Splinter kneels down next to him and strokes his non hurt cheek.

“My son, you can repay the favor by staying safe like they wanted. If Draxum gets you as well, it’s truly over.”

Mikey leans into his dad’s hand and sighs.

“Okay….I’ll stay. Both of you be extra careful!”

“You’ve got it. We’ll be back!” April heads into the tank again.

Splinter kisses Mikey’s forehead and follows after her. The tank speeds off quickly.

Mikey sighs.

“Don’t be sad, friend. Let me get you patched up, then you can have some lemonade and we can cook together and play with the puppies! Doesn’t that sound fun?” Todd holds out his hand.

Mikey takes it, smiling softly.

“Yeah….it does. It would just be a lot more fun with my brothers.”

Todd helps him up and leads him to the first aid area of the puppy park.

“You can always come back with them after they’re okay again!”

“You’re right. And they will be okay again!”

“That’s the spirit! Do you want a Dalmatian or Golden Retriever bandaid?”

“Dalmatian please.”

April sits in Donnie’s seat as Splinter once again drives the tank.

“So….you said reaching out to them helps a little?”

“Not enough, but yes. Perhaps if they could stay away from Draxum for longer. It wouldn’t be an easy task.”

April thinks for a second.

“If Draxum wants the guys to rule the world for him or something, Donnie would need more parts. He also can’t work fast if he’s distracted so any place he goes to has to be somewhere he can be alone. I bet he’d go to the Purple Dragon’s lair!”

“Please do not tell me that you want to try to find him there. You have seen what happened to Orange, and he told us what Red did to Blue. They aren’t themselves. He won’t forgive himself if he hurts you either.”

“I won’t give him the chance! Besides, I’ve known the guys for years. They’ve got weaknesses even they don’t know about but I do. If anyone is going to get Donnie back, it’s me.”

Splinter sighs.

“Then you want to split up?”

“Yeah! You drop me off and go head to the auction house. I’ll calm Donnie down enough for you to use whatever you find, then he can help us get the other guys back!”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Of course I am. You know I’d do anything for them.”

“Then let’s save our boys.”

After getting the address from April, Splinter changes course to the hideout.

He hopes he doesn’t regret it.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 66

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

The last thing you see before you lose a hand or as I like to say, this week's chapter art by @aimike17

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

SCREECHING AFTER THE FACT SHOUT-OUT TO @tmntxthings for helping me out with this chapter too! She's a freaking saint when it comes to helping me cook!!!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: gun, robbery, threats of murder, blood, broken bones, bra removal, clit suck, folds, and the typical pregnancy mention

“Tarp.”

“Check.” You patted down the many plastic sheets.

“Mirrors.”

“Big and small.” You tiptoed around a floor length one and over to the table where a handheld one lay.

“Paint.”

“Check.” In a little swivel, you held out a hand in demonstration to the litany of choices.

“Brushes.”

“Check!” You turned your outstretched hand into a pointed finger to the cup sporting many.

“Spot testing for allergic reactions, check. Scheduled time is blocked so we have the entire day. This leaves mess where tarps have been laid out in accordance to my mapping.” Donnie lifted his head from a screen to stare down where plastic sheets disappeared into the bathroom. “Bedroom otherwise prepared, which leaves clean up…”

You nodded in time, itching to get ready.

“Clean up.”

His repeated line brought your attention.

He was in motion toward the bathroom before you could even ask.

There you heard the clatter of the shower curtain as you followed.

“No, no!”

You reached the door frame and looked in where he was holding a bottle of his soap. “What?”

“Colloquially I may say body wash, but this is technically a cleanser!”

“Okay…?”

“Cleanser retains skin’s natural oil!”

Your fingers squeezed the jamb as you waited for him to elaborate.

“It won’t properly clear paint! Water-based or otherwise!”

“Oh…”

He shook the container. “We would need excess which I have not planned for! The new formulation isn’t due for another week!” 

You grimaced sheepishly. 

Donnie sighed and then turned to gripe at you. “While I may have increased my order to account for your utilization, it will not be enough. If you recall, we had the addition of your soap for grimier circumstances. With my wash it would take multiple lathers to scrub away all residue. This would leave us without cleanser before more arrived, id est, we were meant to have purchased a separate and appropriate soap.” 

He hadn’t been shy about his complaints. When you had first moved in, you had your own body wash, but after a while it seemed easier to just use his. While the formula was supposedly made for him alone, it also made your skin feel comfortably supple.  “Uh huh...”

“Y/N, this is a problem!” He brought the bottle over to you.

You took the offering, found it light as described, and turned your head toward the sink. “Okay… We have other soaps… How about the hand soap right here?”

He made a noise of revulsion.

“Or dish soap?” Your head lolled as you looked at him.

His features curled into twisted horror. “You are describing a replacement worse than simply letting the paint dry!”

“If it dries, it just flakes off, doesn't it?”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.” He spoke caustically.

“Donnie, the dish soap is good enough for ducks and oil spills. It’s their whole branding, it can’t be that bad-”

“These are neither oil based paints nor are either of us waterfowl!”

“That’s not what the marketing scheme is trying to-!”

“I refuse!”

You made an annoyed sound and were just shy of stomping your foot. “Donnie, it took forever to get the tarps down according to your plan!”

He folded his arm.

“Donatello!”

His beak rose with a haughty turn of his head.

“So, that’s it!? No body painting because you forgot soap!?”

“Me?” He came down with a fiery gaze. “We made the list together!”

“And you’re Santa Claus checking it twice! You ordered everything!”

“Blame goes both ways. You wound me and therefore I’m even less inclined to continue our activity!” In a flap of his hands, he shooed you.

Irritated, you stepped away only for him to begin to kick up the tarp behind you. “What are you doing!?”

“As you so kindly put it, there will be no body painting today! I am cleaning up!”

“Don, come on!” You blocked him from messing up the ground cover further.

He towered over you.

“We spent all that time testing brushes to make sure they felt right against you! Hell, we spent forever trying to figure out the best way to write on each other. Markers grossed you out and there was so much trial and error for smell and texture and everything! Then, getting the stuff and the time and setup! Please…!”

“We have a process for a reason. This is an undertaking, not to be done on a whim.” His eyes were down, ready to calculate moving you out of the way.

You stepped around his toes to cage him in. “Do you still want to?”

He reared with an annoyed shake. “Have you not been listening!?”

You whacked your hands against his plastron. “Obviously I have! I’m asking if you’re just trying to find an excuse out.”

“Of course not!” He was further offended. “I put forth the effort because I wanted this! We both did!”

“Then why are you giving up so easily!?”

“I’m not! I’m rescheduling. We can attempt another after we have the proper wash.” He found that to be his last word on the situation and moved to get around you.

“I can go to the closest store. There’s a shop two blocks from here and I know they have body wash!”

Donnie stalled, but didn’t look.

“It’s not going to be a great brand, but all soap strips right? As long as it’s for the body, that’s good enough?”

He was clearly processing.

“Please…?”

“Not all.” He glanced. “I have stipulations.”

“Shoot.”

“The product must be free of sulfates, parabens, phthalates, mineral oil, retinyl palmitate, coal tar, hydroquinone, triclosan, triclocarban, formaldehyde and its derivative releasing agents, and even the slightest form of fragrance.”

Your lips parted as you weren’t prepared for such a long list. “You need to send that to me.”

“I will go with you.”

“Yeah!?”

“Calm, this is still your task. I would only rather waste a portion of my time.”

You frowned.

“I don’t care if I ruin the mood.”

You gave one tepid sigh before looking at him with a withered expression. “Your skin care is important.”

“As how it feels and what goes on it.”

“Yes. I’m not making light, I’m just…” You gestured out to how your bedroom was coated in plastic wrap. “We worked so hard. I… no, we were really looking forward to this…” 

“I acknowledge the frustrations.” He dipped in to press his beak to your head.

You lingered only for a moment. “Now?”

“Now.” He agreed and you both moved to leave.

Getting shoes on, you were both out the door and heading to the store. Right where you said it was, the micro grocer was a dingy, but serviceable place. Donnie made his stand outside and only helped you by writing out his request list in an app. With your phone in hand, you entered and only glanced at the shopkeeper. A young guy scrolling on his phone, he ignored you while you headed to where the toiletries were. Several options, you picked up the first to start reading ingredients when the door opened again.

Background noise of another customer, you sneered at one of the banned ingredients and moved for the next bottle. Scanning through that one’s tiny print, you squinted to examine it closer when you heard a huffy voice.

“Hurry up…”

Your head lifting with an odd weight, you leaned just enough to look past the shelf you were at.

At the register, whoever had walked in was clearly robbing the place with a gun shaped figure lifted up through his jacket.

Staring, you saw the man at the counter struggle with the machine. “It won’t open unless you make a purchase. I don’t really know-!”

“Fake one, stupid!” The gunman hissed, jerking his coat.

You looked toward the front window, but couldn’t see Donnie.

“Trying to be a hero!?” You weren’t sure how, but the gunman must have caught a glimpse of you because he spun around.

Donnie had been right next to the front door. 

He would have seen the guy enter. 

He would have heard the commotion, no matter how quiet. 

“Hey, you listening?!”

You didn’t move your pupils, but the guy at the register chanced a shaky hand toward the phone.

“Dipshit!!” The gunman stalked toward you. “You hear what the fuck I’m saying or not!?”

Without moving your head, you looked the man up and down. 

He appeared small.

He was technically taller than you, but you couldn’t help but shrink him in your mind.

He appeared pathetic with his spindly form and terrible stance.

He looked like he’d jumped into this store on a whim to steal a quick buck in the middle of a slow weekend day.

One thing out of place was sending him into a rage. 

You arched a brow. “I’m kind of busy.”

“You’re…?” The flared anger was snuffed out in a confused instant.

“Yeah, my boyfriend is really particular about his body wash.” You shook the bottle in your hands so he could see it better.

“I’m… What the FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?” Doubling down, he yanked the gun out of his jacket pocket to properly point it.

In a way, you were surprised he actually had one. 

You expected someone like him to have just faked it with his hand. 

Your heart rate barely blipped at the matte black object.

In contrast to your steady blood pressure, you saw a very familiar rush of black behind the gunman. 

It was a move imperceptible to anyone else.

When had your senses become so honed?

You guessed it was somewhere along the pipeline of generally dating a mutant and having almost died.

You had seen things the average person couldn’t dream of. 

Guns seemed so archaic in comparison. 

That explained why you weren’t scared.

You’d dealt with enough.

This pathetic trash wasn’t worth your adrenaline.

You had full faith in your mate and yourself. 

“He’s very particular, ya know?” You shrugged.

“Wha…?” The gunman wilted again at your second rebuttal.

“About this…” You looked at the shelf. “About me…” You turned your attention toward the barrel. “He’s waiting for me.”

“If you think your stupid ass sob story is going to-? You know what, fuck you! Empty your pockets, NOW!” The pistol shook and rotated.

“No.”

He blinked.

“I don’t think you understand.” Your head tipped and you could feel the unhinged quality your features took on. “I’m warning you. Put that gun down and walk out or else.”

If the man’s initial anger level was at a one and he doubled it on your first refusal, then his current boiling point broke mercury. “STUPID, FUCKING-!”

Metal crunched so loud it caused the racks of goods to reverberate.

Standing beside you was Donnie.

Extending out from his body were two of his mechanical arms.

One of which was clasped not only around the gun it had just devoured, but the gunman’s hand.

“I tried to tell him.” You gave Donnie a sugar coated look.

Your partner tipped his head toward you in acknowledgement.

Pain delayed, the gunman screeched and the first drops of blood began to trickle out from where his firearm was now part of him.

“You.” The other mech arm blurred as it caught the man by the chest and slammed him into the ground so hard that the floor depressed around him.

You tucked into Donnie’s side and overlooked the crater. “I have an idea.”

“Yes, my love?” Donnie turned to you with faint interest.

The gunman gurgled.

“We’re busy. Let’s have him take himself to the police. He can confess and we won’t have to deal with cover ups or statements.” You touched Donnie’s arm.

Donnie hummed, unconvinced.

The gunman pawed at the mech arm crushing him with his only available hand.

“What do you think?” You looked down at him. “You go or you die?”

“M-my h-hand!” He squawked.

“You point a gun at my mate.” Donnie leaned back with you moving in tandem and the mechanical arm hoisted the gunman up into the air. “Now you ignore their generous offer?”

Reality struck the gunman and he twitched. “I-I-I-I’ll g-go!”

“I’ll know if you take a single step otherwise.” Donnie’s grin split excitement. “I do hope you will.”

“N-no! I-I’ll g-go r-right t-there!!! P-please!!”

Donnie glanced at you with a smoothed out expression.

“Sounds like he gets it.” You rested your chin against him.

Donnie’s lids lowered with affection and the mechanical arms released.

The man hit the floor with another squeak of pain before he scrambled. He smeared blood from his broken hand out in a wet streak before he stumbled on a twisted angle straight towards the door. As if in a movie panning shot, you and Donnie both watched after him and caught sight of the young man at the register. 

His hands were up in surrender.

A phone hung from one of his palms.

“He called the police.” You told Donnie. “ETA?” 

Your boyfriend checked his gauntlet for a tiny screen projection. “Ten minutes.”

“Hey, we really just wanted to buy some soap. Is it cool if we keep looking?” You raised your voice a little to address the shop attendant.

The guy gawked.

Donnie seemed to realize something and in a slow withdrawal, the mechanical arms retreated and morphed back into his battle shell.

As if on cue, the attendant’s hands similarly lowered. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah.” You held up the body wash bottle still in your hand.

“… Whatever, sure!” The attendant slumped in a stool and mumbled about his day.

“Okay, I was almost done with this one.” You walked back to the selection with your eyes glued to the tiny print.

Donnie came with and curled around your back, pressing impatient kisses to your neck.

“Sweet, I gotta focus.”

“Love you.” He husked in your ear.

“Me too.” You spoke distantly. “Ugh dangit, not this one either.”

The moment you reached to put it back on the shelf, Donnie took advantage of the real estate and groped under your lifted arm.

You held back a moan. “D-Don…!”

“Want you.”

“I know, but the paint…” You fumbled the last bottle, but kept it from falling off the shelf.

He churred honey into your ear.

You shuddered as you turned the bottle over to read. “I saw you run up behind the asshole. I’m surprised you waited.”

He released a hot breath from where he was nibbling your ear lobe. “You were stunning. I wouldn’t dare interrupt. That control, incredible.”

“I didn’t do anything…” Your eyes drifted and you leaned to give him better access.

He latched to give you a hickey close to your hairline.

You released a shaky breath.

He gave a final hard suck before moving his lips away only long enough to mumble. “I see sodium palmitate, which falls in a similar group. Try the bar.”

“I-is that on there? Damn…” You put the bottle back and he moved with you as you grabbed said rectangle.

A churr rumbled in your ears as you found the ingredients list scant and to the point.

“This one’s perfect, fuck, this one.”

“Very good.” He pressed a wet kiss below his mark and removed himself from you.

You stumbled a few steps before making it to the register to pay.

“Uh, thank… you…?” The young man mumbled unsure as he rang you up.

“Sure.” You shrugged and caught the soap bar to leave after the transaction.

“You’ll receive payment for the floor.” Donnie tossed casually as he followed you out.

You heard the attendant give another confused thanks.

Your legs pumped with power walking purpose back towards your apartment. Donnie’s longer legs kept him easily in tow and he had a light hearted air as you walked. Reaching your apartment in record time, you both jockeyed at the front door and in doing so a question popped out of you. 

“You going soft?”

He slowed and turned to you with a curious shift of his pupil.

“Hot or not, there was a gun pointed at me. I doubt there’s much what if, but it just feels like usually you would have killed or maimed anyone the second they tried a stunt like that.”

Donnie sugared his gaze before he bent in, nice and slow, to put his face on level with yours. With a lethally cute tip of his head, his gaze simmered. “So what if I am?”

Your stomach somersaulted.

“So what if I am going soft?” He repeated and the tip of his beak took the faintest whiff of the air.  “Maybe I prefer domestication…? Doesn’t smell like a problem.”

You murmured his name and the door felt especially heavy where you were stuck holding it.

“Being kept…” He flicked a low lidded gaze over you. “I was not aware of the advantages. It seemed a noose, but a docile predator has the same bite while no longer having to fight to be fed.”

“It’s about how they use it…” You whispered and ghosted your lips over his before charging inside.

He followed close after and, as you tried to deviate toward the elevator, he hooked your waist. You were launched up several flights of stairs in a way that reminded you of a tender version of your first night together and this time there was no need to fumble at the door. You slipped in first and took a few dancing steps with your purchase obvious in hand.

Donnie leered behind and you deposited the soap bar in the bathroom before meeting him in the bedroom. The kiss there seared intensity, but starkly contrasted the slow way he worked up the bottom of your top. You mewled against his lips, struggling with quick urges and he scolded you with promises of more. You relented and broke apart long enough for him to disrobe you.

Bra as a last hold, you took your turn to steal his sweater away and did so with far less grace. You dragged him with his long arms on a tug and he chuckled his way to wrapping them around you. Both for a hug and then for the greater purpose of unfastening your bottoms, you peppered him with kisses. He lounged in them, slowing as he shimmied fabric down your hips. By the time your bottom hit the floor, he was drunkenly shoving his tongue into your mouth.

Winding and sipping on heat, you melded together. Your bra was soon popped and you tipped your body to let it fall from your shoulders as he did his own fly. Coordination had you both naked and clothes were kicked away toward the living room before you pulled him to the paint selection.

“Mark me as yours.” His voice ghosted your ears.

You both exhaled and sighed dreamy as you picked black for its sharp pigmentation. Selecting one of the soft brushes that he’d designated for his skin, you dunked bristles to pigment before bringing up a darkened tip. He eyed it and then you with trust so full that it threatened to drip the same as your implement. Moving forward with a flexible wrist, you swiped black over his neck. A reclamation of his brand, he handed himself over and the loll back of his head said the sensation felt good. Stroking to enhance and taking care in making a bold collar, streaks dripped and rolled along his musculature. It adorned his painted choker with black pearls that beckoned you to swipe over the plump tips of. 

Donnie surfaced enough to try to watch you as you finger painted from the pool and wrote your name amongst the drip just under his blackened throat.

“If found, please return to…” You teased and kissed his cheek.

He churred lightly. “May I?”

“Of course.” You held the brush out for him and he politely declined.

You followed him to the table. He took a long time selecting his own instruments and in the meantime you cleaned your brush. Capping off the black paint, you set the brush off to dry in a little section of the table that was set up for that. Donnie then approached you, ready, with a carefully turned paint canister in one hand and a medium sized precision brush in the other.

“Stand over here.” He gestured and walked himself toward the middle of the bedroom.

You trailed after and strained to see what color he had.

“Don’t look.” He grinned knowingly. “Eyes on mine. I want to surprise you.”

You adjusted your posture to look at him comfortably. “Won’t I be able to tell from the strokes?”

He hummed with little interest. “Maybe.”

You watched the way his lids fell as he uncapped his paint. His little lashes moved as a brush of their own, protecting the dimensionality of his eyes. You watched every little dip and dart of his pupil as he acquired paint. His focus shifted, all engrossed, as the brush dabbed wet to your arm. First with a blot so he could test the thickness and viscosity of the paint, he swiped and adjusted his brush’s load before he committed to a full stroke.

A swift line that he focused on cleanly finishing off, there was a curl of movement. In an attractive turn of his head, he must have looked at the paint pot to get more on his brush. You were enamored to watch your mate work with this new point of view. So often when you were on the receiving end, he was doing his best to distract you. Now you only had clear attention and with it you could commit all of him to memory. From another swipe to your current arm and then moving to the other, you tracked him the whole way. With his eyes focused on the task, you got to see every emotion pass over them.

You understood the phrase windows to the soul, but the phrase took new meaning when you watched him like this. His dedication flowed out in acts of service and he was a machine ever taking information in. If you were to agree with his domestication comment, you’d only do so because he’d allowed it. He was a wild animal that had judged you in a lengthy trial period before he ever chanced bowing his head to your worth.

It was an honor bestowed as great as knighthood and, as such, Donnie knelt before you. You wished you still had your paints to both lay your decree and also because you could now see you had missed a spot on his collar. With his head down you could see the missing connection clearly and wanted to belt off the green. It would match his villainous color scheme nicely where he’d left his mask on and you hardly noticed him painting your legs until he lifted up with a satisfied smile.

“Done already?”

Donnie grinned and went to put his brushes up. “One moment for the reveal.”

“Yessir.” You tried to parse out the damp skin and what it marked off.

It was clearly each of your limbs, but hadn’t seemed to be a complicated design.

Before you could ponder further, Donnie appeared behind you to lead you over to the mirror. “Eyes.”

You let him move you and followed only his gaze in the reflection.

In a quick shuffling to get you full framed, he then nodded for you to look at yourself.

You did and found the slightest purple on your arms. You turned first to the right, finding two connected blocks on your upper arm, but also revealed two disconnected ones on your legs. Your smile grew as you turned the other way and found more purple pixels, all identical replicas of Donnie’s markings. “Interesting brand.”

“I do appreciate a theme.” He kissed your cheek over your shoulder. “You look ravishing.”

“If it’s a theme, you forgot the green.” You chewed your lip and leaned into him. “I love it. Understated, but you.”

Donnie chuffed. “Skin needs to breathe. A full-body paint job would cover your pores and chance a disruption of the sweating and cooling mechanisms in your body. if we were to test something like that, might as well have a cloaking broach.”

You turned toward him. “What is that? You’ve said it before and I think Shelly has like… alluded to it?”

“It’s a stone that allows one to cloak their appearance.”

“Got that much.” You teased and made it obvious you were returning for the paints.

He followed you to clean his brush. “A mystic item then.”

“Do you have one?” You picked the same pair you had before and gestured him to the bed.

He sat on the crinkling tarp covering and waited for you. “No. I liken my visage.”

Half sitting on the edge, you leaned around him to close the painted collar and then drifted brushstrokes down his front. “I do too.”

He churred affection.

You tried to paint his plastron and frowned at how the different texture streaked the paint. “How does the stone figure out what you should look like? Do you think of an image in your head and it makes it happen?”

“Some thought, but as with most mysticism, it trends illogical. Let’s imagine if you were to don it and you chose to cloak as a turtle mutant.”

You nodded both to him and how you tested various brushing techniques to get the black to lacquer.

“You may not be a softshell.”

That caught your attention and you sent surprise toward him. 

He had latent irritation creasing his features. “Unfortunately there’s a certain luck of the draw. There’s a high chance you may be, considering my DNA…” He reached out and pressed a targeted digit into your pelvis. “… is soaked into yours, but I digress. It isn’t assured.”

You stalled a stroke and kissed him hard.

He held you a metered amount away to protect your paint work.

You tapered off for a few needy presses before reluctantly continuing. “Is that why you chose to disguise yourself with make-up instead? Didn’t like the way the broach changed you?”

He gave a faint chirp of approval at your memory.

You stole another kiss. 

“I feel compelled to clarify: I’ve never used one.” 

“Don’t like the chance of how it’ll change you.” You corrected. 

You chuckled and felt his approving air follow you down onto your knees so you could have better access to painting further down his plastron. 

“Share?”

“I was just thinking this would totally turn into washboard abs.” You gestured to him and layered on extra coats to thicken the lines you’d drawn.

“You’re curious?”

“Not really.” You tried to make a circle, but it wasn’t clean. “You don’t like it, so I’m not really interested.”

“You wouldn’t prefer me human.”

It was a statement and, though he hadn’t asked, you knew he needed reassurance. You sent it up to him by fully stopping and giving him your full attention. “Never.”

He had a wickedness to his gaze. “Monster fucker.”

You splatted your brush right into his beak and he chuffed droplets to clear his nose.

Still, he laughed and you continued your work with a pout.

Criss-crossing lines, you did a few touch ups, before you sat back to look at your work as a whole.

“I could acquire two.”

You moved your attention to his face.

“For science. I appreciate that sort of intrigue.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“It’s not a physiological change. Only cosmetic.”

“And mystic.” You gave a lazy grin.

He sneered.

“Anything with you.” You stood.

He took a deep breath before doing the same. “Shall I see your masterpiece?”

“Please.” You swept your hand in a gesture to the full length mirror.

He moved to his reflection and recognition hit him immediately. “A harness.”

“Yes, my pet.” You pressed to his carapace and kissed his arm. “That’s kept.”

“I never considered…” He tilted his head.

“Wearing one? I doubt that.” You came around to look him over again.

He shook his head. “You didn’t connect the collar.” He pointed at this throat and then down. “I never thought to wear a harness without.”

“Oh…”

“Oh.” He mimicked your interest. “I’ll whip something up.”

“Use the link rings.” You leaned into him.

“Of course.” He kissed your forehead and took your chin. “Make-up gave me an idea.”

“What do you need?” You held up your brush and paint.

“Same purple paint, thin square brush.”

“Got it.” You moved to trade off your equipment and brought his requested materials back.

“Eyes closed.”

Your lids drifted and you tipped your chin up for him.

He startled you by catching your lips first then he moved to paint. Careful around your eyes, you felt him make more rectangles skirting down your cheeks. He then was careful over your lids and brows. He blew lightly to seal his art and then moved you gently over to the mirror. You held firm with closed eyes until he gave the signal and opened them to find he’d done an inspired extension of his markings on your face.

“I look cool…” You admired his work around blinks.

“Very…” He breathed warmth into your ear.

You tipped your head for him and he pressed kisses down the side of your neck.

A distraction, a cool brush dabbed your lower back and you arched with a small gasp.

“You k-know…” You managed as he painted what was clearly another rectangular shape. “I’d figured you go womb tattoo before a tramp stamp.”

He slowed only for a moment before he ducked his head to ensure his design. “Dangerous.”

“How so?”

“I would only need the correctly imbued ink.” He skirted your ass and you twitched with sensitivity.

“What…?” You drunkenly slurred as he exchanged his brush for a hand to squeeze the thick of a cheek.

“With such and the correct branching symbol, my birth control would be rendered useless.”

“Ah!” One of his fingers skirted between your legs.

“Best not to give me that power as of yet.” A finger ghosted your sex before another came around and pressed a thick stroke to your upper mons.

Your voice pitched and your head fell to see he’d smeared red paint across your lower belly. “Wha…?”

“Bed.” He nudged you in the direction, but kept himself out of sight. “I need to mark your inner thighs.”

You nodded and the moment you took a step, he slipped a finger into your folds. Knees weakening, you stumbled towards the bed riding his digit. It tested and teased your entrance and you were left to catch the edge of the mattress. He manipulated you only enough so you were sturdy before he disappeared. It took a moment to catch your breath, but you rotated and sat. He appeared, already on his knees with a brush in hand. With him before you, you spread for him and hiked your legs up against the tarp on the mattress. Your feet slid a few times as you tried to find a foothold and he lost his patience to bury his face into your core with a churr.

You cried out his name as he tasted you. His hands occupied with his brush, he rooted deeper with only his snout and lapped at your essence. Your appendages free in contrast, you fisted his mask and pulled. He clearly resisted and you saw through your delirium to how he was specifically keeping his snout from bumping that red blotch he’d made. An odd adornment hanging above your crotch, he licked up a fat stripe to suckle your clit and you bucked against his face once before he retreated. “Damned I can’t do both!”

You slumped a metered amount. “Can’t both cum in me and eat me out?”

“Yes.” He growled lightly before lifting an arm with a brush. His other appendage dipped to support the first and his perfected posture reminded you of a calligraphy master. You meant to ask if that was a skill of his, but the moment the moistened brush tip touched your thigh, you felt a current rip through your flesh. In expert strokes, the feather light tip wafted over you leaving blocks in its wake. You couldn’t help but compare it to the saliva and slick dripping from you. In contrast, it clung to you thick and wrote out a binding contract.

Property of Donatello down one inner thigh.

A prepared table that was ready to house marks of his ownership was left blank on the other.

You were leaned forward to look them over when he rose up enough to reveal his throbbing erection.

“Oh fuck…” You gasped.

“Shall we begin? See just how much of me you can hold?” He carved out a promise in scalding breath as he lined himself up with your weeping sex.

“D-Donnie, we have time. It’s not a race…”

“It’s not?” He smiled and was slow in bending forward to claim your lips. “I believe it is. Did you honestly think I wasn’t still competing with that inane heat-brained bastard?”

“That’s you-u-u-u!” Your word warbled as he pressed his glans in.

“Me.” He spat and shifted his angle with his hips alone to sink into you.

You moaned and moved to hold him.

He caught your limbs before he gave his body over to you. 

You felt something wet smear higher than anything between your legs.

For a moment, his weight dropped onto you and he gave a needy wriggle as if his cock wasn’t fully stuffed to its usual depths. 

You groaned at the pleasurable weight and felt how his entire body retreated as he pulled a calculated amount out. 

Look down. 

You looked. 

Where there had once been red, there was now purple. 

Looking up, you saw the same purple blotch on the bottom of Donnie’s plastron. 

Only his was rimmed with blue where yours had red. 

He had mixed the colors to create his own on your body right on the spot where you’d balloon with his kid. “Fuck me.”

“My pleasure.”

You wished you could say you lost track, but it was patently untrue as. Donnie, without fail, stopped each time he filled you up to make a tally mark on your inner thigh. He’d then wait, regardless of how far along you were, to ensure the dash would not smear. It was only then he’d return to you with a vigor that seemed to only grow with each symbol. 

By five you were delirious and he broke from sex to spill paint. Moving to abstract, he brought you back through slick digits that slid smoothly over your skin. He forewent brushes and dotted off designs until you were present and returned the favor. Together you tumbled and Donnie marked off zones with reminders of the memories they carried. It was a list of his downfall and you told him so. He churred warmth and between affectionate kisses, you drew lazy lines that covered his scars. The constant slick turned the many paints a neutral brain tone and with it an idea struck you.

Instructing him to get on his belly, you straddled his thighs with several bottles. You mixed outside the canvas of his body before you descended on his carapace with purpose. He was initially unnerved as you filled in the scarred gaps to his shell, but he settled at the firm pressure and reassurances that this is what you did in exchange. For each piece of him that he’d offered over, you patched them carefully to where they were meant to be. You’d never allow him to regret his decision to love you and it was when gnarled skin was filled in did you press your full palm down to the center of his spine.

“Donatello, you have my heart, my word, my everything. Whatever you choose, soft or domestic or otherwise, I’m going to make sure you can do it to your heart’s content.”

You stilled thinking he’d give a mating call or something of the like, but he sat silent.

You stared down at your hand that blended in with the color of his rough shell. 

“Y/N.”

His voice sounded watery and you tried to quell concerns. “Yeah?”

“Let go so I can gather you.”

You hadn’t considered you were holding him back. The moment your hand lifted, he flipped you over and made a thousand vows in return.

💜Follow me, the tag #weakspotfic , or Ao3 for updates! Behind the scenes deep dive for this chapter and others along with in-depth writing discussions, plot bunnies, and more are available for only 1$ over on my patreon~ 💜

What can I say other than I love my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[snappedsky]

ROTTMNT: Retired Leo AU

When Casey gets sick, the boys try to take care of him.

--

Down With The Sickness 2: Another Sickness

Casey blinks awake in his bed with no desire to get up. His eyes are sore; his nose feels stuffed; his throat itches. As he tries to force his heavy body up, he feels a cough and suppresses it into his arm.

“Oh no,” he croaks.

Raph, Leo, Donnie, and Mikey sit in the kitchen, silently eating a breakfast of sugary cereals as they stare at their phones. They don’t even look up when Casey walks in.

“Mornin’, Case,” Leo says.

“Morning,” he mumbles, barely audible as he pours himself a glass of water and downs it in two gulps. Then he pours another.

“You want some cereal, Casey?” Mikey asks, holding up the box.

“No-,” Casey croaks and tries to clear his throat. “N-no, I’m alright, thanks.”

Without another word, he goes into the empty living room and sits on the chair, cradling his glass. Raph stares after him, suspiciously narrowing his eyes.

“You feeling alright, Casey?” he asks, “you look...pale.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles and again clears his throat. Now all of the turtles are looking at him curiously.

“You’re not sick, are you?” Donnie asks accusingly, covering his mouth and nose in the crook of his elbow.

“N-no,” Casey replies quickly.

“It’s probably because we were playing out in the rain the other night,” Leo remarks.

“I-I’m not sick,” Casey insists as he stands up. “I’ll be fine after a hot shower. No big deal.”

The turtles stare after him as he walks away then look at each other.

“Yeesh, defensive much,” Donnie scoffs.

“Yeah, what’s the big deal if he is sick?” Mikey shrugs, “it’s probably just a cold.”

“Eh, it’s Casey so he’ll fine,” Leo points out.

“Still though, we should keep an eye on him,” Raph says, “just in case.”

They all finish breakfast and go into the TV room to hang out. It isn’t until an hour later when they realize they haven’t seen Casey yet.

“He’s not still in the bathroom, is he?” Raph asks, glancing down the hall.

“I think I heard him go into his room,” Donnie replies.

“Maybe we should check on him,” Mikey suggests, “make sure he didn’t pass out or something.”

“Yeah, alright,” Leo agrees.

[virgilisspidey]

Some screenshot inserts of "Aoi" in my new fic "Two Souls"

These lovely inserts are made by Shy_Reiane!! My very good friend!!

Two Souls is basically a crossover fic where 2012 Leo acts like Rise Leo's little imaginary friend, but of course, it has more to it than you think. So go check it out!!

[awkwardlyfangirly]

omg first of all i have to say you are my favorite writer!! could i pls have some donnie angst?? maybe like casey tells him about how reader died in the future and he gets really scared and sad and clingy?? feel free to ignore if this is too weird or anything lol. i appreciate you💖

omgosh had so much fun with this oneeeee >:))

literally are you serious "favorite writer"?? shut up get out of here 😭😭😭😭 I'm like. so flattered.

this one is dedicated to you random anon who told me i was your favorite writer I APPRECIATE YOU

okay SO this isn't *exactly* what you requested but it's what came out when I sat down to write, I hope it's okay :') ~enjoy~

/////////////

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Donatello x female reader ~ tw/cw: um graphic character death, gore, violence, in a flashback. yee

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Casey spins in his chair.

“This is cool,” he hums, happily. “We don’t have… spinny chairs in the future.”

“A shame,” Donnie mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

He continues soldering.

Casey continues spinning.

“By the way,” Donnie says, half-absentmindedly, “you never did tell me more about my future. I’m extremely curious. You said ‘one of the most brilliant scientific minds ever’?”

Casey giggles. “Yep. I sure did.”

“Tell me more,” Donnie coos. “I’m listening. My beautiful brain can listen and work at the same time.”

Casey smiles at him, and picks at his nails awkwardly.

You’re dead. You died. Heroic, beautiful sacrifice. Dead.

“Everyone uses your tech,” he says. “Well, everyone in the resistance. You worked so hard for hours and hours and hours making weapons, and armor, and gadgets, and… and everyone uses them. Your name is kind of a word, actually. If you call someone a ‘real Donatello’ it means that they’re smart, or crafty, or good with machines.”

Donnie breaks into a devious grin.

“Oh, I like that,” he says. “A ‘real Donatello.’ We’re going to tell my brothers about that.”

He falls silent for a moment, and Casey chews on his nail.

Dead, he thinks again, dead dead dead dead dead

“By the way,” Donnie starts, in a voice that’s so so loud and confident Casey immediately recognizes it as his I-am-very-nervous voice (His Donnie had used this voice often), “um, by the way. Not to try to invade her privacy, or her future. I just want to know. Y/n. How do things turn out with me and Y/n? You see, we’re dating, currently, and I do really like her, but I’m scared. Horrendously scared. (That means very scared. You looked confused, right there. Horrendously scared means very scared.) I’m frightened of her and I’m frightened of her caring about me and I’m frightened of the way I care about her. So, um. I’m wondering. Is it worth it? Does it pay off? Will we… you know, end up together? Old and gray? Or will she leave me? Will I get too annoying for her, or does she stop needing me, or --”

“She loves you.”

Donnie pauses, his soldering iron hovering just above his work. “She does?”

“She does. She loves you.”

Casey hears Donnie let out a small subconscious breath of relief, and he curls his fingers around themselves, and continues.

“Do you… do you want to hear more?” he asks, and Donnie nods slightly.

“You get married,” he says. “You’re together for three years and then you get married. Like you said, afraid of love, right? So you would have taken longer than three years, I bet, except that the world has been overrun by Krang overlords, and she almost dies, and then you ask her to marry you. So then you get married. And you’re very very happy together. All the aunties coo about it, ya know? How perfect you two are.” He smiles softly. “Perfect together.”

Donnie is working at his tech, his fingers shaky, and finally he just sets it down and turns to face Casey, pulling off his protective gloves and flipping up his goggles.

“Married,” he says, dreamily, and his cheeks are flushing red. “So she likes me? She really does? And she stays with me.”

“She stays with you.”

“Oh my GALILEO. OH MY --”

Casey can’t help smiling as he watches his uncle fumbling over his words and fumbling over his own body as he tries to figure out what to do with himself. He finally just tumbles off of his chair and shrieks on the floor, giggling, raising all of his limbs to the sky in celebration.

“We get MARRIED,” he announces to the ceiling, letting himself relax against the floor. “Mr. and Mrs. Hamato. That’s my WIFE. Don’t you touch my WIFE. Get your hands off of my WIFE.”

Casey chuckles slightly.

Dead dead dead dead dead you’re both dead you’re both dead dead dead dead dead

“That’s so awesome,” Donnie hums. “Oh my blueberry cream cheese muffins. I feel… bubbly inside. I… I do like her. Very much. I care for her, so much. And I know she cares for me but it’s still… hard to comprehend. Hard to believe. But she marries me. She marries me.”

She dies in your arms.

“She marries you,” Casey repeats, feeling his muscles start to tense.

You’re dead. You’re both dead. You’re all dead.

Donnie stares at the ceiling, limp and happy.

“Maybe I should tell her the extent of my care for her,” he says, slowly. “Maybe I should let myself open up like that. To her. Starting now. Not waiting for years. Not waiting until I’m ‘ready.’ Just telling her now. I know she’s ready for it now. She is.”

Casey picks at his nails some more, his brain fighting with his heart. Donnie deserves to know, one of them argues, and the other screams back. They’re red-hot and furious, warring inside of his body, silent and fuming and destructive.

“Does… does she seem happy? With me?”

“So happy.”

“And she loves me?”

“So much.”

Donnie rests his hands on his chest.

“Casey?” he says, quietly. “I’m sorry. I know, I know, I know that this is the worst possible thing to ask. But, um, you’re from the end of the world. How… how long does she last?”

Casey shushes both his brain and his heart and lets the tongue take over.

“Why do you assume the end of the world means everyone dies?” he huffs. “I’m still here!”

His brain and his heart start yelling at him again.

Donnie props himself up on his elbows.

“Casey. Please. I want to know. I need to know. I don’t know why, I just… I just do. How much time do I have with her? I need to know.”

“You -- you have a good life with her, okay? Why --”

“So she does die,” Donnie says, quietly. “She dies. How? When? How old is she? What happens?”

“Donnie, I don’t think this is a good --”

“Tell me,” Donnie says. “Please. I won’t tell her. I just… I just want to know how long we’ll have.”

Casey lowers himself off of his own chair, and sits cross-legged on the ground in front of Donnie, who’s already pulled himself up into a sitting position. Donnie stares at his hands and picks at his sleeves and rocks, back and forth.

“I’m ready,” he says.

“Donnie, are you --”

“I’m ready,” he says.

Casey inhales. He’s been wanting to tell him this, anyway. About his death. About all of their deaths. He thinks that Donnie deserves to know. He thinks that they all deserve to know.

“She dies from a Krang infection,” he says. As soon as she saw the biogrowth seeping into her body from the bloody, gory gash left in her thigh, she gasped and screamed your name.

You desperately fumbled in your medkit for the antidote. But you’d run out. You’d used it all in the battle.

You looked up at her. She saw it in your eyes.

Kill me, she begged, grabbing your wrists. Please. Kill me.

You refused, your heart pounding, your hands shaking. You wouldn’t kill her. You wouldn’t kill your wife, the love of your life. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. How could you ever face yourself again?

Donnie, she begged. Please. PLEASE.

You shook your head, and she began to mutate. Tentacles rippling along one of her arms, and she shrieked with pain.

DONNIE, she screamed, DONNIE, PLEASE.

And you plunged your dagger into her heart.

Twisted. Pulled. Stabbed again, and again, and again, until her blood streamed hot and red over your hands and the tentacles stilled.

Donnie, she whispered, her mouth beginning to bleed. Donnie.

And she touched your face with one trembling hand.

I love you, she whispered. I love you, Donnie. I love you.

And you didn’t tell her that you loved her back. It haunts you, it haunts you, it haunts you. But her blood was still painting your hands and the sick was swelling in your throat and you didn’t speak and you felt her heart slow and stop, felt the blood stop running.

You turned and vomited until you could not think.

Donnie stares at him, his eyes big.

“A Krang infection,” he whispers.

“It’s very common,” Casey adds. “Sorry, I know that doesn’t make it better at all, just --”

“What about me?” Donnie asks.

“Oh, that I won’t tell you the specifics of,” Casey says.

“But I do die.”

“Yes.” He tightens his fingers around his knees. “Yes, you do die. After her. You get her for her entire life.”

You died in battle. Fiery sacrifice. You didn’t think twice about rushing into danger, anymore. The resistance still needed you, desperately, but you were drowning too deeply in your own grief to pay attention to anyone but yourself.

You sacrificed yourself, and died. Took out quite a few Krang, and an entire armory, but yourself as well. You were sorely missed by your two remaining brothers, and April, and, of course, me.

Donnie stares at his hands, flexing them, turning them over and over.

“You get so much time together,” Casey offers. Like a man extending a dried chicken bone to a starving dog.

Donnie pounds one fist against the side of the nearest desk.

“Stupid Krang!” he shouts. “Taking her from me! Taking our future from us! This is why we need to stop them. To stop this. To stop any of this. So many people lost their families to the Krang, right?? So many! And we need to stop that! So we can have a normal future! So EVERYONE can have a normal future!” He crosses his arms over his chest and hunches over. “I just… I just want a normal future with her. Three kids, a mansion, summers in Venice, fourteen Nobel prizes, complete acceptance into society as a mutant and hybrid mutant-human family. That’s all I want. Heck, I’d take the suburbs! Just for her! And instead I get a dum-dum Krang future with a dum-dum tragic end to our dum-dum happy marriage! No happily ever afters for Donnie, no siree, and none for Y/n especially. Don’t get too comfortable with her, Donnie, she’s going to die anyway. You’re going to die anyway. Ugh.” And he rests his face on his knees.

“But you’re happy?” Casey tries, desperately. His heart is pounding. He feels so, so useless. And bad. Look at Casey, bad bad harbinger Casey, bringing us prophecies of doom that he’s personally seen fulfilled. Why didn’t he just keep his big fat mouth shut?

Donnie lifts his face to look at Casey. There are tears in his eyes, hot angry tears.

“But we die,” he whispers.

“You die anyways.”

“But we die early.”

“But you’re happy. It’s the end of the world, Donnie, and people are dying all around you, and the Krang have taken over everything, and you’re sleeping in caves and eating rats and you and Y/n are together and you’re happy and you’re a little bit of light in each other’s dark, dark apocalyptic world! Don’t you see?? You’re so happy together!! Without each other, you’re so… so BROKEN! When she died, you were so BROKEN! No light inside! No life inside! And then YOU DIED and it was ALL SO BAD but, see, the times when you were together?? THAT’S what mattered! You being together! You were so happy!! So good together!!”

Donnie’s eyes are big.

“I think I need a moment to myself,” he mumbles, and Casey awkwardly stands up and leaves.

[limabeans-babies-forthewin]

New chapter up! All Interaction is appreciated!

[thelastdiamondpiratealchemist]

"Our Baby Sister"

Four teenage mutant turtles who are ninjas, and one single baby. What could go wrong?

Rated. G.

Master Splinter would be gone for an entire week, leaving Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie, and their human sister, Mina, alone in the lair. The old rat had left strict instructions on the fridge in Japanese and English.

“The Training schedule is on the table. The chores rota is on the counter. The emergency contact is April O’Neil. Behave!”

A thrill coursed through Mikey, visions of epic pizza feasts and movie marathons dancing in his head. Ever the pragmatist, Raph grumbled about the extra dishes, while Donnie worried about the integrity of his latest invention without Splinter’s watchful eye. Leo, the ever-responsible leader, plastered a reassuring smile on his face though a flicker of anxiety danced in his eyes. Mina, their twelve-year-old human sister, pumped her fist in excitement.

“I can watch anime and read my Manga all night!” she cheers.

“No. You still have your bedtime.” Raph shakes his head, “Sorry, sis.”

“Aw, come on, Raph! Splinter isn’t even here!” Mina’s cheer deflated faster than a punctured whoopee cushion, “Can we make my bedtime midnight?”

“How about 10?”

“Aw, but my bedtime is 9:30!” she protested. “Can’t I at least stay up an extra hour? Splinter wouldn’t be here to yell at us!”

Raph ruffled his pre-pubescent sister’s hair, giving her a smile as she crossed her thin arms onto her chest.

Later that day, Mikey found an old, dusty item buried underneath Master Splinter’s bed. His eyes widen with his new discovery as he holds the item above his head.

“Oooh! He won’t care if I borrow this for a while.” He grins.

He didn’t know that he had found an item that held ancient power, turning older things young.

He left his discovery on the kitchen counter just moments before Mina walked in, searching for a snack to eat.

Mina’s stomach grumbled a rebellion against the prospect of another hour of drills before dinner. Sneaking past the dojo where her brothers practiced their katanas with a satisfying clang, she tiptoed toward the kitchen. Just as she reached the counter, her eyes landed on a curious object Mikey had left behind.

It was a small, intricately carved wooden turtle, older than anything else in the lair. It pulsed faintly with an otherworldly glow, beckoning Mina closer. Curiosity overcoming her usual caution, she reached out and gingerly picked it up. A warm energy tingled through her fingers, making her hair stand on end.

Suddenly, a blinding light engulfed the kitchen. When it subsided, Mina blinked, her hand instinctively going to her head. Something felt…different. Looking down, she gasped. Her hand was more petite, smoother – a child’s hand. Panic surged through her. Glancing at her reflection in the toaster oven, a scream caught in her throat. Staring back was a chubby-cheeked toddler with wide, frightened eyes. She was a baby!

She cries loudly, her high-pitched squeals entering the dojo.

The dojo door flew open with a bang. The rhythmic clang of katanas meeting ceased abruptly, replaced by a chorus of startled shouts. In the doorway stood their worst nightmare – a tiny Mina, no bigger than a melon, bawling her eyes out and clutching the now-dormant wooden turtle.

Chaos erupted. Raph, ever the protector, was the first to reach her. He scooped up the wailing baby with surprising gentleness, his gruff exterior momentarily forgotten. 

“Woah, woah, little sis,” he mumbled, rocking her back and forth. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s a baby!” Leo exclaimed, his blue mask doing little to hide the panic in his eyes. “Donnie, what happened?”

Donnie, his goggles magnifying his wide eyes, scrambled to the counter, grabbing the wooden turtle.  

“This must be it,” he stammered, examining the intricate carvings. “Some kind of ancient artifact, maybe with age-regression properties.”

Mikey, usually the jokester, looked on the verge of tears himself. 

“I… I found it under Master Splinter’s bed,” he confessed, his voice cracking. “It looked cool, and I just…”  His voice trailed off, drowned out by Mina’s renewed shrieks.

The situation was a disaster. Their human connection, their fierce and independent sister, was now a helpless infant. The weight of responsibility slammed into them, heavier than any Krang invasion. Their dreams of pizza feasts and movie marathons melted away, replaced by the desperate need to care for their tiny charge.

Raph paced the kitchen, bouncing Mina in his arms, a frown on his stoic face. Leo, ever the leader, tried to formulate a plan.

  “We need to keep her calm and ensure she’s safe,” he said, his voice shaky. “Donnie, figure out how to reverse this! Mikey, get some blankets and maybe… a stuffed animal?” he ordered. 

Mikey dashed off, returning moments later with a towering pile of plush toys and a comically oversized teddy bear. He knelt beside Raph, offering the teddy to Mina with a hesitant smile. Miraculously, the sight of the bear seemed to momentarily distract her. She reached for it with a coo, her sobs subsiding into whimpers.

“See, Mikey? You’re a natural!”  He turned to Donnie. “Any progress on reversing the curse?” A glimmer of hope flickered in Leo’s eyes. 

“It’s not a curse, exactly moreIt's more like an energy transfer. The good news is that the energy seems stable. The bad news is that I have no idea how to reverse it.” Donnie shook his head, fiddling with the wooden turtle.  

“Should we contact April?” Mikey asks.

“What does she know about ancient magic?” Donnie scoffs.

“I mean, how to take care of babies!” Mikey throws out his arms, “She had a babysitting bus for a week!”

A collective groan rippled through the tense air. Ever the optimist, Mikey might have just stumbled upon their only hope. While Donnie scoffed at the idea of April’s babysitting expertise being relevant to ancient artifacts, a desperate Leo saw a lifeline.

“It’s worth a shot,” he conceded, exhaustion lacing his voice. He activated the lair’s communicator, the image of April’s concerned face flickering on the screen.

“Guys, is everything alright?” April asked, her brow furrowed. “The security system detected a distress call and-”

Leo cut her off, launching into a frantic explanation. He started with Master Splinter’s absence, then moved on to Mikey’s “discovery,” and finally, the horrifying transformation of their sister. As he spoke, the weight of the situation seemed to press down on him, his voice cracking with every word.

April listened patiently, her initial concern morphing into a mixture of shock and amusement (tempered by Leo’s genuine distress). When he finished, a small smile played on her lips.

“Okay,” she said, her voice firm but reassuring. “First, breathe. Second, don’t worry about the ancient artifact mumbo jumbo. Right now, your priority is taking care of Mina.”

Relief washed over Leo in waves. He hadn’t realized how much he’d clung to the hope of a quick fix. April’s practicality grounded him.

“Alright,” he echoed, taking a deep breath. “How do we deal with a… well, a baby Mina?”

“Leave that to me, fearless leader. Consider this your first official babysitting crash course.” April chuckled.

She arrived in the first 10 minutes.

For the next hour, April, the self-proclaimed babysitting extraordinaire, took charge. Through the computer screen, she guided the turtles through the basics of baby care – making formula (courtesy of Donnie’s lab equipment, much to his initial horror), changing diapers (a process that involved a whole lot of panicked yelps from Raph), and creating a makeshift crib out of pillows and blankets (Mikey’s handiwork, surprisingly sturdy).

By the end of it, the lair resembled a warzone of scattered baby supplies and exhausted teenage mutant ninja turtles. Yet, amidst the chaos, a sense of accomplishment bloomed. Now sporting a full belly and a teddy bear in a death grip, Mina slept soundly in a makeshift bassinet.

“See, guys?” April said, her voice warm with pride. “You’re natural. Just remember, patience is key. And for the love of pepperoni, don’t feed her pizza yet.”

 “Thanks, April. We owe you one.” Leo let out a shaky laugh, running his hand over his head.

30 minutes later:

“Uh…guys?” April called out, seeing an empty bassinet, “Where’s Baby Mina?!”

The air crackled with a tension thicker than mutagen goo. April’s voice, laced with panic, echoed through the lair. Leo whipped his head around, his heart hammering a frantic tattoo against his ribs. The makeshift crib was empty, the oversized teddy bear abandoned like a fallen soldier.

“Mikey! Donnie! Raph!” Leo roared, his voice raw with terror. “Where is she?!”

Chaos erupted once more. Raph, his face a mask of fury, tore through the lair, every nook and cranny echoing with his feet pounding. Mikey, his earlier bravado replaced by a soul-crushing fear, scrambled under furniture, his whimpers counteracting Raph’s rage. Ever the pragmatist, Donnie felt a cold dread pool in his stomach. Logic offered little comfort in the face of their missing sister.

“She couldn’t have gone far, right?” Mikey squeaked, his voice barely a whisper. “The lair’s sealed shut!”

“Don’t tell me what she could and couldn’t have done, Mikey!” Raph snapped, his voice tight. “Maybe she crawled through the ventilation shaft!”

“That’s insane!” Donnie retorted, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his conviction. He glanced April silently pleading with her for any shred of insight.

“There’s only one place she could have gone,” April said, her voice grim. “Master Splinter’s meditation room.”

“She was old enough to crawl?!” Mikey shouted; he looked underneath a table.

She wasn’t there.

“Nooo! She’s not there!” he wines.

Panic surged through Leo once more. Master Splinter’s meditation room was off-limits, not just because it was sacred, but because it housed countless pressure points and booby traps designed to keep out even the most skilled intruders. A baby Mina wouldn’t stand a chance.

“We have to get there before she hurts herself,” Leo yelled, his voice cracking.

Ever the pragmatist in a crisis, Raph grabbed a discarded blanket and fashioned it into a makeshift sling. He scooped up the giant teddy bear, the only comfort object Mina had shown any attachment to. “We need to lure her out,” he grunted, his voice tight with worry.

Tears welling up in his eyes, Mikey sniffled, “But what if the traps…?”

“We can’t take any chances. Here’s the plan: Leo, you’ll scout ahead using your katana to disable any obvious traps. Raph, you’ll follow close behind with Mikey and the teddy bear. If Mina sees it, she might crawl towards it.” Donnie, his brow furrowed in concentration, cut him off. 

Operation Get Baby Mina was a go.

Leo led the way with a determined nod, his katanas flashing through the dimly lit corridors. He expertly disabled tripwires and disarmed pressure plates, his movements practiced yet cautious. Every creak and groan of the aging lair echoed in his ears, heightening his anxiety.

Raph followed close behind, the makeshift sling holding the oversized teddy bear bouncing against his plastron. His scowl deepened with each passing moment, a silent promise to whoever dared harm his baby sister.

Mikey, his lower lip trembling, peeked out from behind Raph, his eyes darting nervously around the unfamiliar territory. Tears welled up again, blurring his vision. “What if we can’t find her?” he whimpered.

“We will, Mikey. We have to.” Raph reached over and squeezed Mikey’s shoulder reassuringly. 

Finally, they reached the entrance to Master Splinter’s meditation room—a heavy oak door adorned with intricate carvings that sent shivers down Leo’s spine. This was it—the forbidden zone.

Taking a deep breath, Leo braced himself and slowly opened the door.

The room was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow from a giant incense burner in the center. The air hung heavy with the musky scent of sandalwood. But there was no sign of Mina.

Leo's disappointment washed over him, quickly followed by a renewed surge of panic. Just as despair threatened to consume him, a soft cooing sound echoed through the room.

It was coming from behind a massive bonsai tree in the corner. Raph gently nudged the tree aside, revealing a sight that terrified and relieved them.

Baby Mina sat nestled amongst the gnarled roots of the bonsai, clutching the glowing wooden turtle in her tiny hands. The faint otherworldly glow from the artifact illuminated her chubby face, a look of innocent curiosity in her wide eyes.

Relief flooded through the turtles. Mikey let out a choked sob, a mixture of fear and joy escaping his lips. Raph carefully reached out, and the giant teddy bear stood before him.

“Hi, Mina!” Raph puppeteers the teddy bear, “It’s me, Mister Bear-Bear! I’d like it if you found your brave, handsome older brother!”

Just as Raph secures Mina with the teddy bear, a hidden pressure plate clicks. The room fills with the whirring of gears and the hiss of compressed air. Darts shoot from the walls, narrowly missing the turtles. 

Panic sets in.

“We need to get out of here!” Leo yells. He uses his katanas to deflect the darts, guiding the others towards the exit. 

Raph shields Mina with his entire body, the makeshift sling proving useful once again. Mikey, surprisingly brave, throws smoke bombs he grabbed from Donnie’s lab, creating a temporary distraction.

The escape sequence can be a thrilling action scene, showcasing each turtle’s skills. Raph’s brute strength protects Mina, Leo’s agility allows him to navigate the traps, and Mikey’s resourcefulness provides unexpected tools.

Then they were finally out. Mina laughed and cooed at her older brothers, unaware of the danger they were all in.

“Gain!” she laughs.

“Gain?” Mikey repeated.

“I think she means ‘again,’” Donnie groans.

“GAIN, GAIN!” Mina laughs.

Exhausted but relieved, the turtles pile onto the living room floor, baby Mina nestled safely in the center. April sat on the couch, observing her friends as they watched the baby like a hawk.

Mina rolls around on her back, putting her foot into her mouth.

Despite the chaos, a heartwarming scene unfolds. Each turtle, in their own way, tries to connect with their baby sister.

Raph, surprisingly gentle, builds a makeshift crib out of pillows and blankets. Mikey, ever the entertainer, performs silly dances and sings nursery rhymes (badly, but with enthusiasm). Leo reads her picture books soothingly, and Donnie looks at the ancient wooden turtle.

“How do I reverse this?!” he spoke through his teeth, Mina attempted to crawl off again, but Leo picked her up. Leo pats Mina’s back, her soft gurgles contrasting the frantic scene moments ago.

“Alright, team,” he says, his voice hoarse but firm. “We need to figure out how to turn Mina back. Donnie, any progress on the artifact?”

Mina crawls onto Leo’s shoulders. Donnie frowns, his brow furrowed in concentration as he examines the wooden turtle. 

“Not yet,” he admits, “but I have some ideas. This inscription here seems like a key. Maybe if we can decipher it…”

Suddenly, Mina grabs the turtle, giggling as it pulsates faintly in her grasp.

“Careful, Mina!” Mikey yelps, lunging forward, but Raph holds him back with a hand.

“It’s okay, Mikey,” Raph says gruffly, but his eyes are worried. “She seems fine.”

Mina lets out a happy gurgle as if on cue and throws the turtle back into Donnie’s lap.

 “See? She trusts you, Donnie.” April chuckles

“Great. Now, where were we…?” Donnie forces a smile and looks at the wooden turtle's stomach.

Donnie squints at the inscription on the turtle’s belly, muttering. Leo pats Mina’s back rhythmically, a comforting rumble that seems to lull her to sleep.

“There has to be a pattern here,” Donnie mutters, tracing the symbols with a finger. “Maybe an activation sequence? Or a reversal code?”

“It looks like some kind of ancient language. Maybe we could find a translation guide…?” April leans in, peering over his shoulder. 

“Great, let’s go to the library and hope they have a ‘For Dummies’ guide to mystical baby-making artifacts.” Raph scoffs.

“We could ask Master Splinter when he gets back! Maybe he’s got some secret ninja scroll about de-aging people with glowing turtles,” Mikey, ever the optimist, adds.

“That’s a week away, Mikey. We can’t wait that long.” Leo sighs.

A tense silence falls over the room, broken only by Mina’s soft snores.

“Wait a minute!” he exclaims, his eyes wide. “I think I see something!” Suddenly, Donnie lets out a gasp. 

He points to a section of the inscription that seems to glow faintly, pulsing in time with Mina’s breaths.

“It reacts to her!” Leo exclaims. “Maybe that’s the key!”

Donnie grabs a nearby marker and starts tracing the glowing symbols onto paper.

“There are seven symbols in total,” he mutters, and the sequence seems to repeat every four breaths. Maybe we can activate them in the right order…”

A flicker of hope ignites in the room.

“So what are we waiting for?” Raph asks, his gruff voice laced with a hint of urgency. “Let’s try it!”

Carefully, Donnie arranges seven small objects he finds scattered around the lair – a pebble, a discarded button from Mikey’s shirt, a broken watch gear, a bottle cap, a dried bean from their snack stash, a stray shoelace, and a loose screw from his latest invention.

He places them in the order of the glowing symbols on the inscription.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Taking a deep breath, he looks at his brothers. 

He touches each object one by one, focusing his energy. The room fills with a soft hum, and the wooden turtle in his hand glows brighter.

They all stare at Mina, waiting with bated breath.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, a tiny wrinkle appears on Mina’s forehead. Her eyes flutter open, a yawn escaping her lips.

Slowly, she starts to grow. Her chubby cheeks slim down, her tiny fingers lengthen. Her gurgle transforms into a surprised gasp.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, her voice back to its average pitch. “What just happened?”

Relief washes over the turtles. Cheers erupt, engulfing their sister in a giant hug (careful not to squeeze too tight).

Mina giggles, a little confused but happy to be back in her body.

“See, guys? I told you you were natural.” April beams, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

 “This thing is powerful,” he mutters, a mix of awe and caution. “We need to figure out where it came from and ensure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.” Donnie carefully picks up the now-dormant wooden turtle.

Leo nods, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 “And maybe,” he grins, “we can use it to teach Mikey a lesson about borrowing Master Splinter’s stuff.”

The lair erupts in laughter once more, the tension broken. They may have faced a chaotic adventure, but they had come out of it more robust, closer, and with a newfound appreciation for their (sometimes annoying) little sister.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

I was gonna save this for when I also posted chapter 2 so y'all could have more to read, but here it is!

The moment you've been waiting for...

Chapter 1 of Until I Found You has been posted on AO3!

It's a pretty short chapter, more of an introduction really... but at least it's there!

@tmntaucompetition

Also just as a note, I know that there were some people who wanted to be notified when the story was posted, but I completely forgot who they were... that being said, if you would like to be directly noted when the chapters are posted, please say so in the comments so I can remember you!

[holymolyineedtherapy]

New Recommendation!!

This is a Crossover between Avatar: The Last Airbender and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! I love both series and ATLA is my favorite show of all time. This takes place right after season one of ATLA and is post-movie for the turtles!

A Tale of Spirits by @unorthodoxx-page

“We do not know of your brothers, Great Spirit,” Zuko answered, stuttering more like it. “I’m sorry we could not be of more service.”

The spirit frowned and stood up. “That’s weird, we were just together.”

There was a shift and Uncle’s head came up. They stared at this strange spirit. It turned its back to them and Zuko was breathless at the show of disregard. Figures a spirit would not consider him a threat. He shouldn’t take it personally, but he’s been dismissed his whole life. He’s tired of it. A hand gripped his trembling one and he takes a breath. There is no use getting upset over the ways of a spirit. They both studied its small form and Zuko was caught by its profile. The spirit’s back held three repeating and somewhat glowing symbols. It curved in a familiar motion.

"A turtle," Uncle whispered.

[meggahamicide]

I realized that I never posted all of these as a set, so here you go! I think they look so good together!

Edit: Link to the fic!