#rottmnt snippet

[nani-nonny]

Hmm… something something I’m writing this because I lost a battle writing something else

(aka Attached future au snippet because I felt defeated and my ego wouldn’t allow myself to remain in a defeated state)

Leo’s hands shake, clinging to the lab’s sliding metal doors.

“Donnie… what did you do?”

The softshell rises from his knees one leg at a time, wincing at the pressure on his injured foot. He balances his weight on the nearby desk, the material groaning lightly at the pressure. By his feet lies a small, unmoving hand, the only thing not obstructed from view by his figure.

Donnie barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge his brother. His gaze looks down at nothing, an emotionless haze over his eyes. He doesn’t say anything to Leo, his acknowledgement stopping to return his gaze to the owner of the small hand on the floor.

“What did you do?” Leo’s voice darkens, his grip tightening on the metal doors the longer he sees the hand remain still.

The softshell doesn’t respond. But his hand begins to shake and brings attention to the syringe it holds.

“Donnie, answer me!”

Donnie’s hand rises, his shoulders straightening at the sight of the syringe. He’s silent for a few seconds, the tension building in the room as he stares at the syringe. He has yet to turn his back from Leo, even as he hears the groaning whine of the doors bending under the slider’s grip.

The softshell sighs.

“I did what I had to, Leo. I warned you.”

Leo’s blood runs cold, starting from the tips of his fingers and up his arms. He can feel it travel into his heart, causing it to beat sporadically against his chest.

“Don, he’s just a kid. He… he trusted you,” Leo seethes, his words slipping through his teeth. He can’t bear to look at Donnie’s back, but all he can see is that small hand lifeless on the ground at his brother’s feet. He pleads inwardly, begging silently as if his gaze alone will make that small hand move even the slightest margin.

This time, Donnie doesn’t respond.

Leo knew Donnie warned him. And he knew Donnie wouldn’t go through with it. He knew Donnie wasn’t the heartless, emotionless robot his twin claimed to be.

But this? This goes beyond what Leo knows. Donnie would never hurt an innocent child. Especially not like this.

Whoever is standing before him—whoever this stranger wearing his brother’s skin is… he can’t let them go.

Leo reaches over his shoulder, hand gripping on the red scabbard of his katana. He’s slow in unsheathing his katana, a silent shing lightly resonating in the lab as the metal doors close behind him.

If this “Donnie” heard Leo, he makes no acknowledgement, except for another defeated sigh. He doesn’t move from his spot, he doesn’t make a single hint of movement. Even when Leo doesn’t bother to hide the sound of his footsteps closing in.

And he remains still with his head held high, in spite of the blade’s light tough on his neck.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Leo.”

[cokoweee]

Srry drawing these guys make me happy atm

[cimmerian1275]

What r they scheming-

Theres only devious thoughts inside that head

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Eat paper clips for a balanced diet!

I finally did another chapter of Too Many Turtles a couple of days ago! In which TOTTMNT Leo dies via bread assault, 1987 Donatello is ready to rip apart the sewer walls in his war against a ferret, and 2003 Raph becomes a father, apparently?

Latest chapter here

-> My Kofi || Tip Jar :) <-

[shardkn1ght]

Quick question for your Hueso raised Leo, if this hasn’t already been answered

What’s Hueso and Jr’s reactions to Leo’s movie sacrifice?

I imagine lots of tears and a long, long lecture

I do want to make a comic for it so I won’t say too much!

But you can have this drawing I did, of them waiting for Leo/Pep to wake up.

[lil-leon]

Anyone want a snippet from my rottmnt fic..?

Yeaaaah, you're getting the first page of my Google Doc under the cut

Raph turned onto his side, his bed creaking with his weight shifting and the mattress dipping. Sleep. He needed sleep. The Krang invasion took a lot out of him physically and mentally. It felt like every movement was a protest against his body. His injuries were still fresh and he could feel a distant stinging buzz behind his blind eye as his pain medication began to wear off. Yet it wasn’t the pains and throbs that kept him up. No, those were recent, his medication had been on high gear when he first got into bed.

It was his nerves. Those fleshy pink aliens had them shot. Raph rolled onto his back for the umpteenth time, gazing up at the ceiling. Softly, he tapped his fingertips against the patch over his eye. His vision was a bit off now but he’d just have to learn to get used to it. He tried to ignore the phantom feelings, the distant buzz everywhere except his plastron and legs. The buzz reminded him of the Krang flesh that had wormed its way into his own. It’d felt bad enough on his own shell, the idea of Donnie having that dig into a soft one made Raph shudder.

The idea of any of his brothers going through, well, everything that happened just a few days ago made him shudder to be honest. When Casey learned Mikey got Leo back using a portal, he explained damn near everything about Mikey’s future self. The idea of Mikey dying, of watching his little brother chip away in an attempt to save the other made Raph’s heart drop. He knew his little bro. Even if he and Donnie hadn’t been there to help and absorb some of the damage being done, Mikey would’ve kept going. 

Raph’s nails dug into his comforter at the thought.

That nagging in his gut, that familiar tug pulled from deep inside him. It was a feeling he’d been getting for years. It started when Splinter got distant, started giving them less time and attention, and started retreating into the living room. Raph didn’t understand what was going on at the time, but he did know he needed to be there for his brothers. It was stressful for a child as young as he had been. Keeping his brothers healthy, fed, and content when their dad was drifting away from them. He had started to get irrationally nervous any time he’d leave them alone. 

He knew Leo might try to get into some kind of trouble for attention, that Mikey was too little to really know how dangerous some things were, and that Donnie was at a higher risk of harm than any of them. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving them alone for longer than a few minutes. Rational fears grew larger while irrational ones bloomed. The idea of one of his brothers choking while eating would somehow turn into the fear of letting them eat anything without supervision at the time. The tossing and turning and stirring he did now was born from those unrealistic thoughts driving into his skull and keeping him from having a restful night. He knew they were fine, he knew they weren’t going to get hurt from staying in the bathtub on their own for a few minutes, from eating by themselves, from spending the night in their own room. But, nocturnal death is rare, not impossible.  He wished he never learned that fact because here he was getting out of bed at two in the morning just to check that his brothers were still breathing. He could’ve sworn he was getting better at not doing things like this, at giving his brothers space to breathe without being what Mikey called a “Helicopter Brother.” But the Krang invasion was a setback and now he was falling into old habits. How could he not? His brothers almost died. He was the reason his brothers almost died. He didn’t even register he had been walking until he was outside of Mikey’s train car, closed hand hovering over the door and poised to knock.

[thatoneleosagific]

to make up for lack of updates ill sporadically post random bits of writing that may or may not be put into the fic (most likely not) Or bits from oneshots i might post !

heres an old bit from a while ago but it still makes me :]

[chiscribbs]

It's been awhile since I last posted some Disconnected AU content on here. Figured it was high time to remedy that.

Lyrics are from "I Can't Lose You" - a song from the Frozen musical (tour version) which pretty much perfectly encapsulates Raph and Donnie's ACT II - ACT III dynamic. Raph just wants his brother back, at any and all costs; Donnie just wants to keep his family safe, even if it means keeping them at a distance.

I still very much love this whole AU concept and have plans to give it a grand reveal (hopefully sometime in the near future), but for now, have this little preview of a Brains-and-Brawn "confrontation" scene from the latter half of ACT II.

[joyfuladorable]

"Wai-Case-Casey!"

The blade stops an inch from his snout. Shakily, Casey slowly lowers the weapon, her feral snarl cracking into teary-eyed disbelief.

"Raph?" Casey whispers, voice hoarse. The bundle in her other arm wriggles with a happy gurgle.

A... Baby??

[nani-nonny]

Prisoner of Fear : Part 1

Masterpost

Enjoy!

He can hardly believe it when the body collapses at his feet, taking his damaged sword with it. He can hardly believe it when his own body remains standing, frozen in place like it couldn’t believe what just happened either.

His hands are still shaking with an intense flow of adrenaline, his heart pounding against his chest in rapid succession. If it weren’t for his intense heartbeat, he would have believed himself to be dead. But he still doesn’t inherently believe that he’s entirely alive either.

It’s all too good to be true.

This has to be some kind of trick. It has to be. It can’t be over this easily, even if it weren’t easy to get to this point. It’s too quiet to be real. There’s no way he has finally found silence in so long. No, he must be dreaming. He must be living out the most realistic dream of all his dreams, tricking him into believing he had done the impossible. It has to be a dream because how else is he still standing?

Unless he’s dead.

He died and the final thing he sees is his one chance at freedom from this hell. Everything that screams in his body is all just a trick created by his deepest wishes. That’s what it is.

He closes his eyes and counts the seconds. A minute’s worth always brings him back to reality. A minute always gave him a brief moment to sit back and think. A minute is all he needs to reset. A minute to open his eyes to find himself dead and staring down at his dead body instead of the one he believed to have slain.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Five…

Six…

Seven…

Eight…

Nine…

Ten…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

Fifty-seven…

Fifty-eight…

Fifty-nine…

Sixty…

Now… open your eyes.

Slowly, he opens his eyes to see the body at his feet again. This time, he sees the neon green liquid surrounding the body from the wound where his blade sticks out of. This time, he comes to reality.

He did it…

He… He finally did it…

It’s possible. It’s actually possible.

There’s no trick, no facade, no fake-out. There’s nothing. Nothing but sweet, sweet relief. And relief had never tasted so… disgusting, coating his tongue and throat with a poison unlike any other.

Now what…?

What does he do now that he achieved the impossible? What had he been fighting for? What was all this for? Why did he fight for this long? What lies beyond the dead body at his feet…?

He swallows nothing nervously, coughing when it brings forth the realization that his throat’s completely dry. Dry? This had never been a problem while fighting. He’s supposed to drink water, right? That’s a function…

He clears his throat, coughing lightly again as he looks left and right.

Floating rocks left and right. Debris from floating pieces of land cloud the further distances. Remnants of where battles lay. Emptiness and silence. Complete nothingness. It’s… it’s good, right? Silence and nothing is good.

He looks down at the body again, watching the liquid pour onto the ground in a steady stream. Is that…? Is that what he fought for? Is this what he needs for his dryness?

He licks his mouth, his flexible beak smacking dryly in the process. Assessing the new feeling, moving his jaw and shifting the thing that touches the thin bone in his mouth. It’s… It’s strange. Had he always had this mouth?

He raises his hands to his mouth, eager to touch, when he notices the sharp tendrils. He knows what these are. Fingers. His fingers are dry and caked in dead skin, long nails chipped and cracked at the tips of his fingers. They don’t look like they belong to him. But they must be his, they’re attached to him, after all.

He closes and opens his fist, watching with a sudden fixation on these phalanges of his that he doesn’t remember having. They crack and move like weapons, honed and ready to attack at any second. One phalange has a strange stiffness to it, so much that he can hardly move it. Another is fixed in place with a bandage wrapping and something far stiffer within the bandage. What reason does his finger need to be still like this?

The thought makes him pause. His. His. His…

That doesn’t sound right. No matter how many times he repeats the word, it still doesn’t feel like his.

Suddenly, the blade clatters on the earth, sending a rattling echo throughout the world around him. The sound bounces off the floating islands and rocks, ricocheting like it was meant to consume the world with its sound. It’s an unnerving sound, one that sounds the sirens in his nerves to steady and be prepared for a fight. Even if the one thing he had been fighting against has finally fallen.

Right. The blade. That’s what his fingers are for. How could he forget?

The blade looks as if it’s bleeding the neon green liquid, coated in the liquid like it was thirsty. Thirst! That’s right, that’s what he was. Thirsty.

He picks up his blade, running his pinched fingers along the edge to remove the excess liquid. With a little flick of the blade, he removes the leftover liquid he missed from it, but it elicits a certain spark he’s not used to.

Instead of the usual blue sparks that served as an extension of himself, they’re green and far more eradicated. The sparks are almost alive–monstrous, as they crack randomly–greedily. The power hums in the palm of his hand, seeping deep into his bones and massaging his muscles.

It’s eager. Hungry. The sparks are restless to ignite a portal into existence. They’ve always done what he wanted, so he must return the favor and do the same. He cuts into the air without hesitation, creating an emerald portal leading to the unknown on the other side. He can feel his blade beg for more of the liquid on the ground, so he kneels to soak the blade in it before returning to the portal that hums low with waves of electricity.

He doesn’t hesitate to step through.

On the other side, it’s blinding. For a second, he almost grows teary-eyed with sweet relief. For a second he thinks this must be what the dead see in their final moments.

It’s bright and warm and welcoming. It’s like a foreign embrace, but still welcoming nonetheless. And he’s grateful that his sword, his companion in hell, had brought him to this warmth. This must be the gateway to the afterlife, an eternal rest.

But when he hears a distant CLANG, his heart stops for a second. And suddenly there are more loud sounds. There are infinite clangs that get louder and softer and louder and louder then softer again. It beats into his heart again and again. This isn’t peace, this isn’t eternal rest. It’s HIM. He hadn’t died, He had run. It’s another trick. No, it mentioned more. There must be more. They always make sound. Sound is bad, sound is Him. Sound is them. It must be them, right? What else could it be?

Whatever it is, he doesn’t want it. He can’t stay. He needs to run. Run to silence, run to hide.

He grips his fist tight around the handle of the blade. His sword couldn’t have meant to frighten him, his companion wouldn’t hurt him like this. And from the feeling of his sword’s hum fading, he knows his sword hadn’t expected this either. So he grips his blade tightly in his palm and runs away from the sound.

He hears voices and high-pitched screams as he runs away, but he doesn’t stop. He needs to run to safety. He needs to run to the silence again. Silence brings peace. Silence is safe.

Leo doesn’t think.

He relies solely on instinct as he runs. Instinct will keep him safe. It always has.

[starrcrossrose]

Sneak Peek from my Notes app

(Full Snippet will be up on my Patreon tomorrow morning)

[hellishgayliath]

Happy National Opossum Day and Mutation Day to my one and only son Pico UwU

He was in the tree tops when he ate an oozesquito that ended up transforming him into this bigger form. The branch supporting him couldn't hold his weight so it snapped off and he fell, hitting his head on a rock below and giving him a nasty head wound. So he's disoriented, scared, hungry, and injured while he makes his way through the woods. Until he's caught digging through the trash by the dog sanctuary by Todd and passes out shortly after.

[dysfunctional-doodle]

A new chapter of Too Many Turtles is out, my TMNT chat fic! In which the mini plastic babies return for war against a ferret (don’t ask), ROTTMNT Raph bites into a tyre and 2012 Mikey discovers you can explode pretty much anything in a microwave

Link to latest chapter!

(Wow I finally stop being lazy and updated this chat fic lol.)

I just wanna say I’m really sorry about the lack of updates on this blog overall, I know I haven’t been drawing on here lately but I have been doing commissions, and all the rest of my time is spent on uni work, driving lessons and trying not to live up to the student stereotype of being broke as shit lol. It’s been…going. It’s hard to muster up the energy to do much else rn but giant talking turtles are going to save me I hope.

I have a redbubble shop for tmnt posters, stickers, badges, etc of my own designs and a Kofi, both are linked in my pinned post!

[theanonymousninja247]

Birds

A small project dedicated to @sophiacloud28 and her story “A Shot in The Dark.” And inspired by this comment I was able to snag from her

I had so many thoughts and feelings working on this project, but the symbolism behind just birds and freedom in particular wouldn’t leave me alone. And you know what they say about a picture is worth a thousand words? Well here’s my attempt of a thousand words. So I present Miss Estrella as the Twite Bird

Flower meanings in Floriography

Iris: Valor, Wisdom, Faith

Ivy: Fidelity and Attachment

Picture progress because without fail, I always like the “before’” the actual final 😆

[bambiraptorx]

For the ask game! Raph and with either Starved or Punishment

Oooo this is gonna be fun.

content warning: disordered eating

---

Raphael 'Ragnarok' Hamato learns many things when he gets tossed back in time, and one of them is that he'd apparently underestimated just how scarce food had gotten during the decade or so that he'd been living in a world dominated by the Krang.

Sure, he'd known there were limits to what he could have--snapping turtles have a nasty habit of growing throughout their lives, after all, and feeding someone who's just going to keep getting bigger and bigger puts a strain on anyone's resources. He's gotten used to a reduced food intake over the years, everyone has.

But he just doesn't quite realize how reduced it really was until being thrown into the past, bruised and battered and more exhausted than he'd ever been before, and somehow ending up in the care of none other than Baron Draxum.

And it's not like he minds the Baron attempting to nurse him back to health--he needs to recuperate somewhere, anyway, and watching Draxum trying to hide his research when Raph already knows full well what's going on is kinda funny--but it involves way more food than it should. Three meals a day, plus snacks in between? It's ridiculous.

At least, that's what he thinks at first.

The weeks pass as he waits for a sign from his brothers, his injuries healing. There's more than he'd thought at first; at least there's more things Draxum considers to be 'injuries' than Raph does. A few cracks in his shell, some thin places where the scutes never fully grew back after taking damage, scars and old wounds galore, not to mention all the actual damage. So what if those are all healing slowly? Not like Raph has anything else to do right now but heal, rest, and pretend to eat all the food he's given.

And it's not like it's even that hard to hide what he doesn't eat. Some of it he squirrels away here and there, just in case. Some of it he pawns off to the gargoyles: all it takes is telling them he doesn't like the texture or the taste, though if he isn't careful with how much he gives them they'll bring him more. Most of it he sneaks back into the kitchen, hiding it away in the back of the fridge or taking the time to stash it in a container.

A few times he's had to take a protein shake (or the weird yokai equivalent of it, anyway) to the bathroom, and pour it down the toilet, cringing internally at the waste of food, but it's fine, really, it's not like he would have eaten it. Some days he hides or stashes or replaces more than he eats, but it's not like he wasn't managing just fine before. He's not even that hungry nowadays.

And maybe it's just all the time he has now, but he seems more tired than he ever was before. Colder, too. Draxum must not have heat in his house or something, that seems like something a mammal who lives with two employees made of rock would forget about.

Not like it matters too much right now, when he's getting himself a glass of water in the middle of the night. Also putting his bowl of rice from earlier back in the fridge. Why did the gargoyles bring him that, anyway? He'd already had his three meals for the day, he doesn't need extra food.

It's just after he puts the bowl away (well, puts the rice away in a different container, he's not leaving an entire untouched bowl in the fridge to be found later) that the kitchen lights flick on. Raph blinks a few times at the sudden brightness as he automatically shifts into a wider stance and lets ninpo bubble up his arms--oh, it's just Draxum. He looks pissed, is he not sleeping well again? Couldn't be Raph, he knows for a fact he's been too quiet to wake someone up.

Draxum glares at him with a ferocity he hasn't witnessed since coming to the past, and even before that hasn't been directed at Raph in years. "I don't understand why you keep doing this."

Raph sets his empty bowl in the sink, gently so it doesn't crack. "...doing what?"

"Don't play innocent, you're getting rid of your food again." Draxum jabs an accusatory finger in his direction. "You've been doing this for weeks and it cannot continue."

"Noooot really sure what you're talking about here." Raph reaches for the cabinet where the glasses are kept. Maybe Draxum's just in one of his moods again. He's a lot crankier in the past, that's for sure.

"You nearly passed out earlier today!" Draxum yells, and okay, Raph does not care for that at midnight.

"Pretty sure that was just exhaustion catching up with me. 'Sides, I don't need that much food anyway." He sets the cup under the faucet and turns the water on.

Draxum's mouth falls open. "You don't--you need more food than what I've been given you for the last few weeks, any simple calculation of your caloric needs could show you that. That's what the food between meals is supposed to be for! Not hiding away! And you'll only need more as your recovery continues and your metabolism jumpstarts again--" he pauses as Raph tilts his head.

"You sure?" It's a genuine question, but it makes Draxum ball his hands into fists so tight they tremble.

"Ragnarok--do you realize the condition you were in when I found you? The injuries that wouldn't heal, the lack of appetite, the constant cold you complain about--those are signs of starvation. You were on the edge of mass organ failure when I found you, and with your continual avoidance of food--" Draxum presses a fist against his temple. "And you're telling me you didn't even know?!"

The water is still running, overflowing the side of the cup. Raph slowly reaches out his hand and turns it off. He blinks, first with his outer eyelids, then the inner membrane.

"No, I didn't."

There are a lot of things that he'd learned before coming to the past, but the signs of starvation weren't among them. That would explain a lot more that he's actually comfortable with it explaining.

---

I don't want this to get too much longer so I won't write the resolution, but I couldn't not tie this into my I'm Not Dead Yet AU.

ask game

[chil-aglia]

𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗜𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 (SNIPPET)

The snippets I post of the new story will not be in order btw!

Also, hooray, you get to see the title of the upcoming fic!

Some of these scenes you see of the snippets are not always guaranteed to actually be published in the actual fic. Or not as accurate to the actual scene when the fic does eventually come out. As this is still somewhat in the editing/rough draft phase!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three didn’t like this. How could he? Watching everyone be so close together was almost making him physically ill.

He watched as the brothers laugh and tease each other over a simple video game. All seated in a line in front of the projector, a racing game it looks like, with Donatello and Leonardo versing each other to get the highest score.

Three watched with bored eyes, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his plastron. He could never understand how someone could be so close to each other. It was a weakness in his eyes, but he also never had that…love while growing up with Draxum.

Not that he needed it. No way.

“Hey Three! Wanna join?” Mikey called out, noticing his older brother who was at the back of the living room. All eyes trained onto Three who briefly gave them a glance over, he then huffs with a stern look and pushes himself off the wall, not saying a word he walks away.

I’m not weak…not like them.