#spark gone!mikey

[another-melomanie-blorbo]

Spark Gone AU

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Okay so I already have playlists for this AU well they're in progress and i already have an idea abt what it is and the design (im just not very artsy like that TvT)

ANYWAYSSSS

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Splinter and Draxum take care of the turtles but they're always fighting and the fights have even gotten physical before. All and all its not a very good environment.

As for the boys, they mostly live in the sewers but frequently go to Big Mama's hotel to escape it.

In this AU Mikey is no longer the sunshine character, as much as he would like to he just... isn't. Instead a girl named Vicki (my besties oc) is. She lives with her father and step-mother and has a good environment, however, every other week she goes to stay with her mom and step-dad which is not exactly a good environment.

Donnie is often getting in fights WITH his two dads. He's sick of it but at the same time doesn't care. Still, he gets in between them which hes never ended well. If he doesn't feel like getting in the fight Leo told him not to and he needed to heal he'll lock himself in his lab and work, ignoring it as much as he can.

Leo is still the medic, actually he's really good. That comes from practice though. He would/will patch up his dads and Donnie after their fights. Its would always be so brutal, he was glad they at least were good fighters, at the same time though he wished they wouldn't fight at all. When they start arguing he goes to the med bay and starts to prep wondering if it'll ever end.

Raph is the oldest and is normally taking care of his brothers, making sure they are fed, that the have clean clothes, etc., etc. He protects them, tries to keep them out of trouble. Raph normally stays im his room or with one of his brothers. When his dads start to fight he just tries to ignore it by meditating or training.

Mikey spends most his time out of the lair. In the Hidden City, Big Mama's hotel, New York City roof tops, anywhere that wasn't home. He hated when they fought and hated hearing it. When he's on roof tops he listens to music and sketch's. He used to dance and he was a beautiful dancer at that. When Splints and Draxum fight Mikey leaves the lair, if he can't leave then he goes to Donnie's lab with his headphones and turn the volume all the way up.

Mikey has also thrown away his ballet shoes and no longer dances, only he knows why.

The boys have gone to school before but are now home schooled. They went to April's school thanks to Big Mama giving them cloaking broaches.

VICKI! okay so she has step parents on both sides. She lives with her dad and step-mom which is a pretty good environment. Every other week she goes to her mom and step-dads, which is not. They are always drunk and fighting. When she meets the turtles shes like "okay if i can't fix my family i can try here" she pretty much gives them their spark back.

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OKAY so whadaya thiink~? honestly i kind like this one. IM EXCITED EEEEEEEE i wonder how it will turn out OH WELL :D.

[tsunaso]

"OH MY SWEET SUMMER CHILD"

pairing. (Implied) Omega!Mikey x Alpha?Sanzu x Alpha!male reader

synopsis. when Alpha Sanzu messes with the wrong omega, he learns the hard way that karma never misses. — 1.5k words part two.

warnings. mdni, amab reader, dead dove, drugging, (Implied) bitching, degradation, dubcon (due to altered state), physical restraint, dark omegaverse, humiliation, mentions of death.

alpha Sanzu who is a joke of an alpha. has little to no respect for beta’s nor omega’s, and acts like he can get whoever he wants when he wants. thinks that his looks will let him get away with harassing omegas, but karma always catches up.

alpha Sanzu who messes with the wrong omega one day and lives to regret it for the rest of his pathetic life. the omega who he had almost gone too far with was mated to the gang leader who owned the city!

　　　　　　　　　　　　⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅　　　　　　　　　　　

“What the fuck is going on!?” Sanzu yells practically foaming at the mouth as he struggles against the ropes tying him to a wooden chair. 

“My my… what am I going to do with such a dumb fucking alpha, practically came here willingly, with the way you jumped at the smell of omagan slick.” M/n lowly purred as he strolled into the room. his scent glands work on overdrive as he pumps it out into the bare room. 

Sanzu instinctively starts to pump out his scent to try and dominate M/n’s but for some reason, his scent is a hint sweeter than usual, he makes a face but he doesn’t pay any mind to it.

“You know you're lucky that it was so easy to bring you in,” M/n face drops into a scowl. “Otherwise you would have been shot dead.”

“What are you even talking about?!” he rages, “Once I’m out of these stupid ropes I’m going to fucking gut you.” Sanzu roars with venom as he starts to growl.

M/n ignores whatever nonsense Sanzu is yapping about before sparking a lighter to light his cigar. He takes a puff before finally looking at Sanzu again. “You don’t even know why you're here… do you?” M/n says in mock pity as he lets out a quiet laugh. 

Sanzu finally stops posturing and really takes in the situation. His eyes dart around the room as he notes that he has been kidnapped to an unknown second location and is trapped in a bare room with a chair, mattress, sink, and toilet.

“Where am I?” Sanzu says quietly as he finally stops pulling at his restraints. His bright pink hair falls onto his cheeks as he tilts his head slightly. This action made his eyes contrast with his hair beautifully, you could almost say he looked cute.

M/n looks at him amused by what he is trying to do. “You’re in my-” M/n cuts himself off as he hears the door open. “Actually, hold that thought…”

M/n fully turns around to meet his mate's gaze. “Love! I’m so glad you came!”, he pauses “I know it must’ve been hard for you to come… here,” M/n says in a softer tone.

Sanzu’s eyes widened as he realized who had just entered the room. A relatively short man with long black hair and equally black eyes stared blankly at Sanzu. The man's face cringes before looking away and stepping closer to M/n.

“Is this why you kidnapped me? For some no-name omega?” Sanzu questions, his face mask of disbelief and shock. This was the omega he was messing around with in that club's alleyway!

M/n’s eyes narrow sharply, his scent souring in anger. “Watch your fucking mouth, you're talking to my mate.” M/n rages on, “You put your dirty grubby hands on my mate.” 

M/n clenches his fist, before letting out a quiet sigh when he feels his mate rest his hand on the small of his back. “This was the one that hurt you, yes?” M/n asks, turning to face his mate.

As soon as M/n says those words the tension in the room thickens as Sanzu’s mind races, as he tries to think of just who M/n is… did he really piss off such an important person?

The black-haired omega stiffly nods, a pinched look coming across his face. “I should’ve rocked his shit in that fucking alleyway” the omega lets out a growl, just thinking about the event made him angry.

Omagan pheromone starts flowing into the room like an angry river but, just as soon as it appears, it disappears. “Just.. leave me out of whatever you're about to do.”

Sanzu watches as the small omega struts away, he had never scented anything like that before. With pupils blown wide, he tries to come up with what it smells like but he can’t put it into words.

Why was he perceiving that omega's scent like this? He had scented him before… and he didn’t smell anything great, so why did he smell so different?

“Are you finally feeling the effects of the drugs?” m/n inquires, bending slightly to take in Sanzu’s ever-sweetening scent.

Sanzu blinked slowly, his pupils blown wide as the realization began to settle like poison in his bloodstream. His scent was sweeter. Too sweet. Like ripe fruit on the verge of rotting—cloying, wrong.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” His voice cracked as the first tendrils of fear curled around his throat.

M/n smirked, blowing out a slow stream of smoke that lingered in the air like a noose. "What do you think, Haruchiyo? Or should I say… soon-to-be Harumi?” 

He crouched down to meet Sanzu’s panicked gaze, tilting his head mockingly."That’s a cute nickname, isn’t it? You better start thinking of one because you won’t be the same 'big bad alpha' much longer."

Sanzu thrashed against the ropes again, his muscles straining, but it was futile. His movements felt sluggish now, like his limbs weren’t entirely his to command. The scent swirling off him was intoxicating—too intoxicating, and the disgusting sweetness of it made bile rise in his throat.

"You drugged me?" His voice was shaky, cracking on every syllable. He wanted to sound angry, but even he could hear the fear starting to bleed through.

M/n let out a low, mocking chuckle. “Oh, it’s so much more than a drug. You see…” He leaned in close, letting the embers of his cigar illuminate his smirk. 

“We’ve been working on something special for alphas like you. Arrogant pricks who think they can take whatever they want without consequence. It speeds up the shift—unlocks a side of you you’ve probably felt in your worst nightmares. You’re going to be softer, sweeter, more… submissive than you’ve ever dreamed of being. Just think of it as karma.”

Sanzu’s heart pounded in his chest as his body betrayed him further. The gummy sweetness of his scent thickened, curling around him like a noose. His mouth was dry, his skin too warm, and his thoughts felt like they were swimming in syrup.

“Fucking liar,” Sanzu spat, though it came out weaker than he intended. “You’re bluffing. This isn’t possible.”

“Oh, but it is.” M/n grinned and straightened up, casting a glance toward the door. "I thought about just killing you, you know. But, my mate is merciful, and I figured—what’s worse? Death or living the rest of your pathetic life as what you perceive to be at the bottom of society, as an omega? You’ll be crawling for scraps, begging for mercy, begging for attention.”

The sound of footsteps approaching the room pulled Sanzu from his growing panic. The door creaked open, and in stepped the omega mate once again, his dark eyes locked on Sanzu with unrelenting hatred.

“Still talking, huh?” the omega muttered. He crossed his arms, his posture deceptively casual. But his scent—it sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade. Even drugged, even in his haze, Sanzu felt the command embedded in it.

“M/n,” the omega said, his voice cool and steady, “how long does he have before it starts? The heat, I mean.”

Sanzu froze, his eyes snapping between them. The heat?

M/n looked at the omega with a knowing smile, shrugging casually. “Oh, not long now. A couple of hours, maybe? By then, he’ll be begging someone to knot him. Doesn’t even matter who.”

He exhaled more smoke, his tone darkening. “You’ll finally know what it feels like to be hunted, Haruchiyo. You’ll know what it’s like to be nothing more than a toy for someone stronger than you.”

Sanzu’s breathing turned shallow, panic clawing up his chest. “You’re lying! You can’t… You can’t fucking do this to me!” he snarled, but his voice wavered, and his pheromones betrayed his fear.

“Oh, darling,” M/n purred mockingly, leaning close enough that Sanzu could feel the heat of his breath against his ear. “I already have.”

The omega stepped closer, standing just within Sanzu’s line of sight. He tilted his head, studying him like one might a bug under a microscope. “He’s still posturing,” he said flatly. “Let me stay and watch when it starts.”

M/n arched a brow, smirking. “You’re so cruel, my love.”

The omega’s lip curled in a wicked smile. “I told you before—we should’ve killed him in that alley. But I guess watching him crumble works too.”

Sanzu wanted to snarl, wanted to roar, wanted to say something, anything that would put him back in control. But his body was growing weaker. His scent—the sickly sweetness was almost unbearable now, and the ache in his lower abdomen made his stomach churn.

He was losing.

And for the first time in his life, Haruchiyo Sanzu was terrified.

[goodlucktai]

hold the world to its best (1/?)

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: raph & OC, raph & leo title borrowed from light by sleeping at last part of the archer au

for @soldrawss who wanted the deaged gio arc we've discussed to death in the group chat to finally become canon in some way shape or form 🩶

(next)

x

It takes all of six minutes for a family outing to the Hidden City to go completely off the rails. Raph would be mortified, except that’s not even breaking their record.

He has no idea how Gio got there as quickly as he did. One minute he’s sandwiched between Mikey and April at a stall selling little whimsical glass figurines that moved and changed color, fully prepared to fork over an absurd amount of money for the sizeable stack of them they had picked out so far, and the next he was on the other side of the market, shoving his way between Donnie and the witch that had snuck up behind him.

Raph was already in damage control mode, but now it swiftly shifts gears from the more harmless ‘convince Gio not to spend a cool two hundred dollars at the drop of a hat just because Mikey and April got suckered by some kitschy souvenirs’ and moves into the more immediately imperative ‘stop Gio from breaking someone’s arm for the crime of approaching Donnie with a look on their face that Gio didn’t like.’ 

It’s a task in and of itself to carve through the crowd without bulldozing over the yokai just trying to do their evening shopping. Raph tries to be mindful of his size on a good day, but he has a bad feeling. It doesn’t take much for anxiety to stir in the back of his mind. Every foot between himself and his brothers feels like a mile. 

Whatever happened in Witch Town three years ago, Raph is beginning to think April and Donnie only gave the rest of them the spark notes version, or else why would the witches still be nursing a grudge?

“Hey,” Leo’s voice pipes up at his elbow. Raph looks down into a smiling striped face as Leo hefts the bags of food he’d collected from Hueso’s victoriously. “Got dinner. Where’s the fire?”

“Twelve o’clock,” Raph replies, and decides he’s had enough mincing around. “Hitch a ride, kid.”

Leo whistles low, clearly impressed by the amount of trouble their siblings must have caused to warrant the urgency, but doesn’t hesitate to hop up on Raph’s shell, maneuvering around the spikes with the ease of a lifetime of practice. His leg has healed to the point that he no longer carries the foldable neon blue crutch on outings, but Raph gives him an extra breath to settle anyway. Then he straightens his shoulders and stands up tall and the crowd parts for him like water around a stone. 

The witch is hissing between her teeth, the mane of fur framing her face bristling with resentment, needle-point fangs poking out from beneath her top lip. Gio is meeting her glare with one of his own, the soft expression he’d been wearing not even a full minute ago, watching April ooh and ahh over a tiny crystal shark swimming in midair, a thing of the past. Donnie looks offended and he’s already running his mouth over Gio’s shoulder, because he’s never met a fire he wouldn’t throw gasoline on. 

The next few seconds seem to stretch into hours and also shrink into an instant. The witch lifts her hand and blows something out of her open palm that glitters in the lantern light like broken glass. It hits Gio’s face with the force of a slap and Donnie’s startled yelp is audible to Raph’s ears over every other sound on the street and a thick plume of smoke obscures all three of them. 

Leo’s weight disappears from Raph’s back. When the smoke has cleared and Raph has shoved himself the rest of the way there, Leo has the witch pinned against a storefront wall with his sword to her throat. She is very carefully not moving an inch. Donnie is digging frantically through a pile of loose clothes on the ground. Gio is nowhere to be seen at a glance. 

Raph’s immediate thought is one he’s not proud of later, but in the moment he thinks if Gio’s gone I’ll let Leo kill her. 

“What did you do to my brother?” Leo says with a smile that cuts as easily as any one of his blades ever did. “In ten words or less. Don’t waste my time.” When she only stares at him, quivering like a mouse under the cold, calculative eyes of a bird, he adds pointedly, “My arm’s getting tired.”

“Okay!” she blurts. With a pang, Raph realizes she can’t be that much older than Mikey. “Okay okay! It’s not permanent, it doesn’t even hurt, I’m not allowed to use spells that harm until I pass my A-Levels! I just wanted to ruin his day!”

“What’s going on?” Mikey says, brow furrowed as he and April join them. “Is that Georgie’s scarf?” 

“OKAY NOBODY PANIC,” Donnie interjects in a significantly panicked tone of voice, the scarf in question clutched in his hands. “We’ve found ourselves in a situation that I am very much not equipped to handle, so I am tapping out and tagging Raphael in. That’s your cue, brother dearest.” 

What Donnie could possibly be under-qualified for that Raph isn’t, he has no idea. And he has no idea what he’s going to see when he steps over to Donnie and looks down at what Donnie is hovering uncertainly in front of, what his bulky battle shell has blocked from their siblings’ collective view. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Raph says without thinking. 

“Raphael!” Donnie hisses. “I’m implementing a swear jar and you’ll be receiving my Venmo request imminently.” 

“How the turntables,” Mikey mumbles behind them, kept from crowding close to look by April’s arm thrown out in front of him. Just in case it’s something bad. Something he can’t unsee. 

“Is he okay?” Leo calls over. There’s a thread of tension in his voice that only the people who love him would be able to hear. “Someone tell me if I need to add to my Hidden City arrest record.” 

The witch’s eyes widen, and she looks like she’s about to risk wriggling her way to freedom, sharp sword against her neck be damned. 

“He’s okaaaay,” Donnie says in a not-reassuring way, tone lilting uncertainly at the end. Leo’s body language rockets past worried and straight into alarmed. 

“Stop,” Raph says, putting firmness in his voice but not raising it, hyper-aware of Gio’s eyes tracking his every move. “He’s fine, Leo. We’ll call Barry and get him sorted out. But I think it would make you feel better to come see for yourself, so get your new friend’s contact info and cut her loose.”

Leo scoffs, but sheaths his sword over his shoulder. “Gimme that,” he says without an ounce of charm, pointing at one of the bangles on the witch’s wrist. 

Her yellow fur is sticking straight out at this point, but she works the bangle off and all but shoves it at Leo without a word. Leo doesn’t bother explaining why he wants it, what purpose it will serve. Raph knows that Mikey, an earnest student of mystic arts ever since his arms healed from the invasion, would be able to track the owner of a personal item through hell itself and out the other side. 

The witch doesn’t know that, and doesn’t ask questions. She lingers one second, then two—then, when it’s clear Leo isn’t playing a trick on her, takes off at a dead sprint and disappears into the marketplace crowd. A few yokai have lingered to watch the show, but for the most part business has carried on as usual. Raph loves and hates the Hidden City in equal measure for its quasi-lawlessness and customary chaos. 

Mikey is all but climbing over April at this point, and she has both her arms looped around his middle to bodily haul him back, since no one’s given her the clear to let him go yet. Leo joins the cluster of his big brothers and, to his eternal credit, the state of their eldest sibling only stuns him into stillness for a moment.

Then he smiles the way he’s only ever smiled at Michelangelo and folds his legs underneath himself and says, in a voice so unlike the one he spoke to the witch with that he might as well be a different person, “Hey, you. Do you know who I am?”

A tiny spotted turtle with Hamato Yoshi’s brown eyes looks up at them, absolutely swimming in Giorgio’s dark clothes and gear, the compound crossbow on the ground beside him laughably big in comparison. The bead art ladybug keychain clipped to the bow stock is the only thing that makes sense for this tiny baby to have near his person. He can’t be older than four.

The baby turtle looks surprised that Leo is talking to him. He scoots his arms and legs a little closer to himself, hands curled into fists that he hides in the folds of the coat Gio had let Splinter tuck him into two hours ago. 

Eventually, very carefully, he shakes his head. It must come as a blow. Gio spoils all of his siblings recklessly but he dotes on Leo most of all. 

“Aw, that’s okay,” Raph interjects, talking to them both but looking at Gio. He’s keenly aware of how much bigger he is than this pint-sized version of his only older brother, practically towering over him, and he’s quick to crouch next to the twins. He’s still in damage control mode, even if now it’s taking a tone that reminds him vividly of his childhood of being the de facto babysitter and the one responsible for breaking up screeching fights over the Wii remote and soothing hurt feelings. “Do you see how we’re all turtles like you?” he asks. 

Gio’s nod comes slightly quicker this time. He doesn’t uncoil from his tight little ball, but he doesn’t seem overly fearful. He just watches them with huge dark eyes, absorbing everything. 

“Well, his job is to make sure little turtles aren’t hurt after big falls,” Raph says, patting Leo’s carapace. “Does anything hurt anywhere? Do you feel an ouch?” 

Gio’s face is round and soft and young, with spots he hasn’t grown into yet that crowd for space on his cheeks and forehead—so to see him wearing that serious expression they’re all so familiar with at this young age will be both funny and cute just as soon as Raph is capable of finding anything funny or cute about the situation. 

Mikey, who finally breaches containment and lifts himself over Donnie’s shoulders to see, has no such compunctions and coos audibly. 

“He’s so precious!” 

“Michael,” Donnie says at length. 

“What, are you going to tell me he’s not?”

“Of course not. I’m a man of science, and it’s an indisputable scientific fact that baby turtles are adorable. But it’s not the time or place for selfies so put your phone away.”

Mikey scoffs, but slides his phone back into his pocket. Raph is about to lose what little is left of his cool. While the peanut gallery is sniping back and forth, Leo has inched closer, and Gio is agreeably allowing him to check him over. Aside from a tender spot on his knee that will bruise tomorrow, presumably from his rough landing, he’s perfectly fine. 

Leo still puts an unnecessary Barbie bandaid on the sore knee with a silly amount of fanfare, and then pokes Gio on his spotted cheek playfully, and earns himself a tentative, inching smile. 

They’re holding up traffic, but Donnie and Mikey turned and stared down the one person who dared clear their throat at the inconvenient turtle roadblock until that person got uncomfortable and silently walked around them, and no one else bothered them after that. But Raph still wants to get home sooner rather than later. He feels vulnerable, like his heart or a lung is on display out in the open, where anyone with cruel intentions might step on it or steal it away. 

So he mentions dinner, as if he’s thinking out loud. Leo looks guiltily over his shoulder at where the Run of the Mill takeout is probably laying in a heap on the street, but Mikey is quick to jump in.

“Oh, Georgie, let me make your favorite! Whatever you like to eat! And you can help me cook, how ‘bout that? I bet you’re a good helper!”

“That does sound fun,” Raph says. “What do you say, buddy? Does that sound good?”

Gio nods, the fastest response they’ve gotten yet. Then he surprises the hell out of Raph by lifting his arms, the universal sign of a child that wants to be picked up. It’s not a big, enthusiastic want, it’s more hopeful than anything—two little hands that still know how to reach out, that haven’t been taught otherwise yet. 

It bothers Raph that Gio is so comfortable with strangers. That he hasn’t cried or fussed even though he clearly doesn’t know where he is or what he’s doing here. That he tucks himself into a quiet little ball and just lets things happen, like that’s what he’s used to doing, and there’s no point trying to raise his voice to be heard. 

But Raph had a seventeen year streak of being the oldest brother, and he’ll always be the biggest, so it’s muscle memory to scoop the baby turtle into his arms. The tiny curve of Gio’s black, white-spotted shell is a perfect fit in the crook of his arm. 

The faded friendship bracelet that Raph has never once seen Gio without is comically big on his thin wrist and in danger of falling off at any second. Raph carefully removes the bracelet and pockets it for safekeeping, and Mikey passes over the prized ladybug keychain for Gio to hang onto instead. Donnie and April have Gio’s clothes and gear and bow bundled haphazardly in their arms. Leo is holding a sword down by his side, standing close enough to Raph that Gio probably can’t even see it.

“Do you want to see a magic trick?” Leo asks Gio in a sneaky tone that has, historically, always rallied other turtles into running headlong into mischief and trouble with him. 

Sure enough, Gio nods again, maybe even eagerly this time. 

“Close your eyes,” Leo says. 

Gio obeys, even pressing his little hands over them, ladybug and all. The ground at Raph’s feet glows blue, a disk that spreads wide enough to encompass all six of them. When Gio opens his eyes again, they’ll be home. 

[httpvomitello]

You don't mess with our sister *⁠.⁠✧

Request: Hello! I would be interested in how the turtle brothers and dad Splinter would be. What if their little sister dated an abusive boyfriend?

TW: mentions of toxic relationship, aggression, aggressive boyfriend

The family had noticed the changes in you for weeks. Normally upbeat and quick to laugh, you’d become quieter, more reserved, and you always seemed just a little on edge. The spark that had once been so distinctly you was fading, but whenever anyone asked, you’d wave it off with a tired smile.

The first to catch on was Mikey. You’d always had an easy relationship with him, so when he noticed you flinching or brushing him off whenever he asked about your boyfriend, he knew something was up. He tried gently at first, coming up with plans to take you away from your boyfriend or slyly joking about “that punk boyfriend of yours” to see how you’d respond. But each time, you brushed it off, insisting everything was fine, despite the bruises you always tried to hide and the excuses you’d make for them.

Raph was next. He had a sixth sense for danger, and his anger flared whenever he saw you shrinking away from your own family or flinching at sudden movements. He was relentless, trying to get you to admit what was going on, but you’d grown defensive. “Just stay out of it!” you’d shout, but he wasn’t easily deterred. He knew something was wrong, and he was determined to protect you—whether you wanted his help or not.

Then there was Leo, watching the situation carefully. He’d seen Mikey and Raph struggle to reach you, and it tore him apart seeing his little sister like this. He wanted to help but knew that pressuring you might push you further away. Instead, he tried reaching you through quiet moments, asking if there was anything he could do or gently reminding you that you always had family here for you, no matter what.

And then there was Donnie. He’d been piecing things together in his own way. The tech-savvy genius had taken note of your boyfriend’s patterns, his social media presence, and everything he could find about him. Donnie didn’t push you as hard as the others, but he kept a close watch, knowing that he’d need to act fast if things took a turn for the worse.

Finally, it was Splinter who sat down with you one evening, his voice gentle but his eyes firm with concern. “My child,” he said softly, “I have taught you much, including strength and courage. I know you carry burdens we do not yet understand. But you do not carry them alone.”

As you finally broke down, telling them everything about the abuse, the room changed. Leo’s jaw clenched, Raph’s fists tightened, and even Donnie and Mikey exchanged dark glances.

"I’ll find him," Raph growled, his voice low and deadly. “And he’ll wish he’d never laid eyes on you.”

Mikey’s usual grin was gone, replaced by a steely resolve. “Nobody hurts my little sister and walks away from it,” he muttered, cracking his knuckles. “It’s payback time.”

Leo placed a steadying hand on Raph’s shoulder, but his eyes were as fierce as the rest of them. “We need to be smart about this. We’re not just going to hurt him. We’re going to make sure he never sees (Y/N) again.”

Donnie adjusted his glasses, his voice unusually cold. “Don’t worry. I'll track him down in a sec.”

Splinter, who had been sitting beside you, gave each of his sons a calm but knowing nod. “Remember, my sons—do what you must to protect your family, but do not become the very thing you despise.”

As you watched, they disappeared into the night, slipping out of the lair and into the shadows of the city.

They split up as they approached the boyfriend’s apartment, each taking a position around the building. Leo held up his hand, signaling for silence.

“We go in quietly,” he whispered. “We’ll give him one chance to leave her alone. If he refuses…well, then we make sure he gets the message.”

Mikey grinned, though it was a far cry from his usual warmth. “Oh, he’s gonna get the message, alright.”

With a nod, Raph kicked the door open, sending it crashing against the wall. The guy jumped up from his couch, stumbling as he tried to scramble away, but Donnie was already blocking his path.

“Going somewhere?” Donnie asked, voice low and menacing.

He looked around, his eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of the turtles closing in on him. “What…what are you freaks?” he stammered, backing up until his back hit the wall.

Raph stepped forward, towering over him, his expression dark. “We’re her brothers, and you’re the guy who thought he could put his hands on her.” He cracked his knuckles, leaning closer. “You ever hear of karma?”

“W-Who? Y-You mean... Do you mean (Y/N)? Look, I…I didn’t mean—” the guy started, but Mikey cut him off.

“Save it,” Mikey spat. “You think you can just hurt her and get away with it? Not on our watch.”

Leo held up a hand, signaling for his brothers to stand back for a moment. He looked the guy in the eye, his gaze unwavering. “This is how it’s going to go. You’re going to leave her alone. Forever. If you so much as think about coming near her again, you’ll be dealing with us.”

He gulped, nodding frantically. “Okay…okay, I’ll leave her alone! I swear!”

Donnie raised an eyebrow, not convinced. “Words don’t mean much coming from someone like you. But if you break this promise, we’ll know.”

With a final glare, Leo nodded to his brothers, who turned to leave, but not before Raph leaned in close one last time. “If I hear you’ve have you been texting her or something? I’ll be back. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

As they left, they felt a grim satisfaction, knowing they’d done what was necessary to protect you. They returned home that night, slipping back into the lair, each one’s expression softened as they saw you waiting for them.

Leo said, his voice calm. “He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You ran into his arms, relief flooding over you as Mikey and Raph ruffled your hair. Even Donnie managed a small smile, his voice gentle as he reassured you, “We’re here for you. Always.”

Splinter watched from the sidelines, a hint of pride in his eyes. His pride in his family only grew as he knew he had raised his boys the right way.

[legendweaver]

with no warning, Raph runs up to your group to try and smack Donatello on the head!!! Leo has already given up on trying to stop him, despite that they got here only yesterday lol

.......

......sure hope this doesn't trigger any trauma.....

@tmntaucompetition 2025

← Split →

Donnie POV

Tensions were still running high, no surprise there. They were just as quiet as before as they looked around, just now they were also standing further apart and trying not to look at each other.

Donatello ran his finger down the subtle grooves in the metal of his bo, forcibly unclenching his jaw again. They had been given a wide berth by their counterparts. Probably because the areas they were moving through were much less crowded, but also because they could probably sense the tension coming off the trio.

Logically, he knew that they should talk to try to sort things out. But evidence so far showed that talking just actually made things worse.

Though maybe the tension and distance was only bothering him. Leo's face was a mask of calm determination, holding himself firm and still and Donatello isn't able to read him at all. Mikey just looked ...bored.

Donatello kept having to check on them. Making sure the Leo hadn't quietly marched on without them, or that Mikey hadn't wandered off. And frankly, it was making him more anxious that he had been in the crowds earlier. At least then they had felt like some sort of a team, like Donatello could rely on them. On someone.

Now Donatello was alone again.

His hands tightened on his bo, and his jaw clenched. He tries to push it down into the buried ball deep inside him that has been festering this entire time.

He lost focus for a moment.

The sound of feeding slapping against stone. Moving fast. Something whistling through the air at his head.

Boots nearly slipping on wet concrete. The smell of water, mold, and blood staining the back of his throat. Rain blurred his vision behind the visor. Echoey sounds of his own gasps drowning out all else. Head spun, ribs ached. Leg pulsed in agony, muscles twitching around the knife still jabbed into it. Weak point in the joints. Dumb, stupid, an ambush. Move, try not to slip on the bodies scattered on the ground. The crack of his bo against a skull, sending vibrations through him, aches and pains echoing in response. One half of the broken wooden (stupid stupid stupid stupid) bo slid through numb fingers. Faint rumble beneath his feet, headlights flash by the alley, bright light refracting and bouncing off rain, off puddles stained with growing rivulets of red. A shadow from behind. Broken shard of wood twists in his hand. Someone down had gotten up. Heel, twist. Mind, desperate, blank. The whites of widening eyes and grit teeth, a bat swinging down at his head. He jabs upwards, broken bo piece clenched tight, end jagged. Sharp.

Soft. Slides. 'shktpblt'. Red.

Gone.

Donatello's heart pounds and he is already moving. A quick twitch of his wrist and his bo ratchets to life, segmenting, metal shifting, edges sharpening, and sparking to life. By the time the electrical buzz sinks into his senses, he's already swung, turning instantly with a sweep of his leg and shift of an ankle, hand sliding down the length of the bo with a familiarity etched in stone.

Leo, somehow, is faster.

There's an ear-bleeding shriek of metal on metal, the force of the blow slamming into an unexpected obstacle ricocheting painfully back through his arms as Leonardo's katana intercepts in a streak of silver. The shriek sharpens, discordant tones screaming, sparks flashing as the point of impact shifts as Leo slides to a stop from his sudden dash to intercept, bodily blocking Donatello from his target, his attacker.

Some part of Donnie knows he should stand down as he is met with Leonardo's whited out, steely gaze, unflinching as electricity crackles near his face. But the adrenaline and lingering grip of mind-numbing panic drowns it out. And that rolled-up ball of anger and hurt explodes. He snarls, pushing back against Leonardo, trying to leverage his size against him.

Leonardo is a wall, unmoving and unfaltering. He shifts his katana, twisting Donatello's grip on his bo, using the friction of their locked grip to force his bo down. Donatello is unfocused, not thinking, and the way his grip shifted uncoordinatedly would have had Master Splinter drilling him in katas for weeks. He manages to keep his grip, but is unable to stop Leonardo from planting the tip of his bo into the ground, the flat of his blade trapping it there. Without their weapons between them, Leonardo shifts forward, shoulder ramming into his, head lifting as his lips peel back into a snarl.

"Donatello, enough!"

Donatello struggles, pushing back against him. A flicker of movement, and his eyes flicker upwards, getting a glimpse of his target for the first time.

He froze.

Green.

Green eyes.

Raphael's eyes.

There was a ringing through his head as head as his bo dropped from numb fingers. In his peripheral, he saw Leo's face shift to something more concerned, mouth opening and closing, words lost in the haze.

A face he hadn't seen outside of faded photos in years looked up at him. The hit of fear faded, and an achingly familiar mask of anger and irritation fell into place. Face shifting into a scowl that Donatello had seen a million times before.

he-

he couldn't-

and he'd-

he'd almost-

It wasn't his Raphael. Raphael had been 20, and had never worn, never had the chance to wear, clothes like that at 15. But still, but still- He saw those eyes and...

Donnies leg is broken, his plastron cracked, and he is left in a broken heap in the ground as rubble falls around him. His vision is darkening, despite his every attempt to claw back into consciousness as a roar from the maddened shadowy titan that was the Shredder crashes over him, drowning out the sound of his breaths, his heart, his thoughts. A blurry smear of grey races towards him, as an entire cliffside is dislodged in the great beasts thrashing.

A streak of green and red and Donnie is already relaxing before he is scooped up into strong arms, hiss of pain lost in the rush as Raph leaps, doing his best to cover him as they skid across the ground, dust and bits of rock falling around them. His vision swims and begins to smear away into black and he can barely feel it as Raph drags him behind the relative safety and cover of an outcrop of rocks and trees. Raphaels shadow curls over him, and he can distantly feel him checking him over for any life threatening issue, any sounds or words lost in the shriek of the Shredder as it tore itself and the land around it apart. He is slipping when Raph turns and pulls away, his hand barely lifting, pleas caught in his throat. Raph noticed anyway, turning back. The flash of his teeth in a grin, the burning green of his eyes, and the smear of red of his bandana were the last things to go in Donnies fading visions, his words following him as he spiraled down. "Me and Leo got this, brainiac. Rest up, it'll be over before you wake up."

He never even got the chance to say goodbye.

Donatello is moving again, breaking away from Leo's grip on his shoulder. Pushing through the gathered crowd, he runs. He can hear Leo's shout, footsteps following him. Instinctively, he reaches to his hip back, grabbing two of the marble sized balls inside, throwing them behind them, hearing them burst with a pop, the acrid smell of the smoke tickling his throat. He veers sharply to the left, ducking into an alley as he continues to sprint.

Over the last couple of years he has gotten very good at disappearing.

When he comes fully back to himself, he is curled up in the boarded doorway of a back door in a secluded alley, far away from where he had left his brothers. The only sound is the harsh wheezes from his broken chest, gasps for air and control. He curls up tighter, arms wrapping tighter around his knees, bowing his head into the curl of his body.

His screams are muffled and unheard.

He is alone again.

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

oof. well.

none of these guys are doing well and have been going through it. none of them are innocent for how things are.

Thanks for the ask!

[lizaaardstuff]

Hellebores (shattered)

Hey guys, I’ve decided to try something a little new. This is a fic I’ve been working on for the last month now, and I wanted to share a small snippet of the beginning with you guys since it’ll be a bit longer before I’m able to post it on ao3.

This is a Donnie centric story that will take place after the invasion (like my other fanfic), but the beginning kicks off during the end battle.

⚠️Trigger warning for this fic will include: Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Paralysis, Internalized Ablism, PTSD, Medical Stuff; you know, the works.

Please let me know your thoughts once you’ve read this, I’d love to hear them <3

Word count: 1,845

———

Being apart of the Technodrome was... incredible. Being so wholly welcomed into such vast knowledge and power was thrilling- world changing. He was everything. He was everywhere. Nothing was out of his reach. He could feel the space in his head expand, his senses heightened to new levels, and as long as he ignored the pain in his shell and the prickling in his limbs and the pressure in his head, he would describe this as the best experience of his life. Truly, nothing could ever compare.

And then he was ripped out.

Violently.

Without any care to what it would do to him.

And suddenly the greatest experience of his life had turned into a living nightmare. He had never felt pain like this before, and not a second too soon, he blacks out.

———

"...nie!"

"Donnie, wake up!"

Donnie's eyes blearily crack open, dizzying colors invade his senses, and he fights the urge to close them again. He can hear himself wheezing, struggling to take in a full breath. He feels his head dipping down towards his chest, and he realizes he's being held up. Blinking to try to clear the haze from his vision, he looks around to his brothers, who are all being held up by the same gooey Krang matter. Donnie almost does a double take when he sees Raph, with the Krang's influence gone, but he doesn't even get a second to revel in this new development, because Leo and Mikey are suddenly yelling for him again.

"Donnie, c'mon, you have to fight it!" Leo shouts from across the room. A flash of blue lights up the room, and Donnie can feel the electricity of his brothers ninpō light up in his chest. And now that he's focusing on it, he can feel Raph's ninpō there too, strong and steady. Feeling that spark ignites something within his own kindling, and when Mikey's ninpō joins the mix, that's all the push Donnie needs before a beam of striking purple joins the cacophony.

There's yelling, but Donnie's ears are ringing, and everything sounds like it's happening behind a wall of cotton. He sees everyone's ninpō burning away the Krang matter that was holding them up, and he assumes the same was happening to him, but he could barely feel it.

Donnie drags in a breath, feeling like he was breathing through a straw, and uses all of his strength to lift up his right arm to pull at the Krang gunk that was pulling at his neck. If I could just get a moment to catch my breath...

And then the Krang matter is gone, and he's falling.

Donnie lands hard on his side, pain flaring through the upper part of his spine and echoing out across his chest, and the impact forces a weak cough out of him that takes away the little bit of air he had managed to gain in his lungs.

"Donnie!" he hears from above, but his eyes are slipping shut again, his energy spent.

There's a soft thud next to him, and a gentle hand on the side of his face. "Donnie, open your eyes man, please. C'mon, just open your eyes."

Leo.

Donnie slowly peels open his eyes again, despite how badly he wanted to just let them remain closed. Because Leo asked nicely.

Donnie drags in another breath.

Why is it still so hard to breathe?

"There you are," Leo sighs, a confusing mix of worry and relief painted on his face.

Donnie hears quick footsteps behind him and a soft gasp, "his shell," "oh Donnie," but when he tries to turn his head to see who's talking, Leo's hand that was still on his face presses down lightly to keep his head in place. "Don't move."

Donnie's head is starting to feel light from the lack of oxygen.

"Oh my god, Leo, what do we do." Mikey. That's Mikey. Donnie's fingers twitch against the ground as he tries once again to turn his head to see his baby brother, but Leo's hand remains firm.

"We have to move." Raph. His big brother is here too. Wait...

Donnie's already unsteady breathing halts, his eyes going wide. "Wait," he croaks out, all eyes turning back on him, "if you're all here... the Krang." Donnie's words slur, and his sentence ends in another wheezing breath.

The others share a confused look above him. Leo looks back down to meet Donnie's eyes, gently taking his hand with the one that wasn't securing the softshell's head. But Donnie could barely feel it. Everything felt so disconnected and muffled. Shock, maybe.

"Donnie," Leo says sharply, like he'd been calling his name a few times. Donnie drags his eyes back up to Leo, blinking through another round of haze. "Donnie, you're holding them off. Or, at least I'm assuming it's you. There's a big purple dome around us, and you're glowing, so..."

Huh?

"Leo," Raph says urgently from wherever he is. Donnie still can't see him or Mikey. If only I could just sit up... "We still need to get the Krang through that portal." There's hesitation in his voice, and Donnie wishes he could see his face.

"I know!" Leo snaps, voice trembling and eyes brimming with overwhelmed tears. It felt so unlike him. He'd only seen Leo make that face a few times in their lifetime, and most of what he could count were from the last 24 hours. Donnie focuses solely on flexing his fingers around Leo's hand, and Leo squeezes back automatically, looking back down at him but still talking to Raph. "I know, but- we can't move him like this."

"Leo, we can't stay here," Donnie hears Mikey say from somewhere above him.

Donnie watches as a tear rolls down Leo's cheek, catching the purple lighting of Donnie's ninpō. Then Leo squares his shoulders and his face hardens, eyes glancing up to meet the others above him, and Donnie knows that he's come to a decision.

"Raph, in a few minutes I'm going to need you to pick up Dee. As carefully as you possibly can. I'll portal you down to a safe spot. Donnie actually managed to get the ship pretty close to the portal before the Krang grabbed him and Mikey, so all Mikey and I have to do is push the big guy through. I need you to watch Dee, if you can find anything hard and flat to lay him on once you're down there, that would be best. Make sure he doesn't move." Good, Donnie thinks as he listens to his twin slip back into his leader voice, Leo's got this covered. Donnie can feel his eyes slipping shut again right as Leo's eyes shift back over to him. "Dee, look at me, I need you to focus."

Donnie would have rolled his eyes at the slider if he wasn't feeling so sluggish. Instead, he tries to hum to let him know he's listening, but it turned more into a weak groan.

"Before I have Raph pick you up, I'm going to do a quick check to see how you're doing. I need you to keep the shield up, okay? Can you do that for me? No, don't move your head, I got it," Leo adds quickly, pulling their hands apart to stop Donnie from nodding with both of his hands.

"Okay," Leo says, more to himself, as he finally lets go of Donnie's head, throwing a sharp glare in his direction with one more, "don't move," as he picks up Donnie's wrist to take his pulse.

He frowns, clearly not pleased with what he's feeling, but he moves on anyways, carefully shifting his head to lean against Donnie's chest. It was difficult since Donnie was on his side, and Leo seemed to take extra care in making sure not to jostle him. Leo's frown only deepens. This check up clearly wasn't going well. Damn, there goes my perfect test scores...

Then Leo goes to check his eyes, but without a pen light to use and the lighting around them being so dim, he gives up on that, moving to hold Donnie's hands instead.

"Squeeze my hands," Leo instructs.

Donnie has to dig through his energy reserve moving his fingers, and he notices that his right hand reacts before his left. Huh. But either way, he manages to give Leo's hands a weak, lopsided squeeze, which seemed to be good enough for now because Leo nods approvingly.

"Okay, now wiggle your toes for me." The slider sits up a bit straighter to look at the softshell's feet. Or, where Donnie assumes they must be, because he can't feel anything below his chest. Donnie's never been in shock before, and after this experience, he never wants to again. Though, that's a bit redundant. No one ever wants to go into shock, that would be masochistic. But Donnie definitely would rate this experience a zero out of ten, would not recommend-

"Donnie, focus," Leo says, placing a hand on Donnie's arm, bringing Donnie back to the present. "I need you to wiggle your toes." Was Donnie becoming delusional, or was there a hint of desperation in his brother's tone? Probably both.

So Donnie wiggles his toes like Leo has asked of him, if only to ease his brother's concern.

"Donnie, seriously, man. Move your toes so we can finish this up. I know you're feeling kinda out of it right now but-"

What? "I already did," Donnie mumbles out, immediately wishing he hadn't spoken when such a simple task leaves him breathless and dizzy.

"What? No, dude, you didn't. Try again." Leo's tone sharpens, eyes going wide, despite his casual wording.

Donnie furrows his smudged brows. "What're you talkin about?" Donnie tries to get an arm under him to push himself up, turning his head towards his legs, confused, but the second he tries to move, Leo's on top of him again.

"Stop! Stop moving," Leo shouts hurriedly. Donnie can feel the sharp sting of Leo's panic through their interlinked ninpō, and suddenly there's a shift in the air. Ignoring Leo's frantic pleads and shaking hands, Donnie tilts his head up slowly, painfully, and sees the large purple dome he had accidentally created to surround them shudder. A loud pounding followed by muffled rage filled roars could be heard just outside of the shield, as the Krang leader slams his fists into the structure, clearly becoming impatient.

When the Krang brings his fists down again, the structure glitches.

Donnie gasps, along with his brothers, and by pure instinct he pushes more energy into the shield. The world starts spinning and the corners of his vision go dim as he uses up the last of his reserves, and when Donnie blinks his eyes back open, his head is laying on the ground again. Leo's shouting something to someone, and there's a flash of bright, neon blue, and there's a large arm shifting under him. The last thing he sees is a burst of purple pixels as the dome shatters before his eyes slip shut.

———

Okay so I really have no idea how to format anything on this app, so if it’s hard to read, I’m so sorry 😭

[puzzledcretin]

Mystic Mojo

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @eyesoftheholder)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: (Post ROTMNT movie) An exploration into Mikey’s mystic powers and the possibilities that come with it. Word Count: 2,376

Read On AO3

The sun was still high up in the sky, though it was angled toward the west. In an hour or two, it would be beyond the horizon and out of reach. For now, the golden glow cascaded among the blades of grass. 

It was warm here. Wherever here was. 

Among the tall blades of grass, some just as tall as the young turtle as he sat amongst them, were flowers. Sprinkled in clusters, wild flowers blotted the green all around him. An array of reds that faded into purples that faded into blues. Spread out as far as the eye could see. The flowers stood out, ranging from the smallest buds to the largest petals. None of them seemed to be particularly the same species, all unique, all different. 

Fox tail ferns disrupted the usual monotony around him, along with bushes and clusters of wheat. 

Despite the warmth radiating down on him, it smelled like rain. It smelled fresh, like life itself was bursting forth from the buried roots of the Earth. It flourished through the plants, dancing around in the wind. The wind itself sang a song, calling out to everything that was graced with its presence. Brushing against every surface as a reminder of  “I am here, I am here,”

So was he, wasn’t he? Here in this field. Away from everything that ever bothered him. 

He sucked a deep breath in, taking the wind into his heart. Nothing more than a brief detour, bringing life in just to breathe out a part of himself. It joins the wind, flying away into the sky and melding with the dust and leaves that tumbled along the breeze.

His gaze turns downwards, away from the unyielding rays of the sun. 

Stones and pebbles, clusters of dirt, maybe some bugs that were on their way home from a long day of.. Being bugs. But instead of your usual ground activity, there were glowing orange cracks in the Earth. They shined, almost as bright as the sun itself. And it wasn’t stagnant. It shimmered, it shifted. Much like the wind, it danced along to its own song.

His hands came down to touch it, but as he did, those glowing orange cracks suddenly burst up along his arms. They flared, angry and dangerous. The deep lines buried themselves deep into his flesh. Pain followed, sharp pains as his skin was ripped apart before his very eyes. Flakes broke off from the edges, burning up into ashes as they rose up into the air around him. 

The particles floated around him, they almost looked beautiful. Like thousands of fireflies, they circled his head. His eyes widened. With some effort, the turtle tried to pull his arms away from the ground. The urge to touch these small particles- pieces of himself- was just too much to ignore. But, his hands were gone. Merged into the same energy that burned the ground. 

The embers around him grew brighter and brighter, heat searing his skin. Then, before he could gather his bearings and figure out what was happening, the embers shot out in every direction. Their range was impressive, falling down into the blades of grass to hide from view.

Like sparks among dry brush, there was no way to stop the eruption of flames that occurred in that beautiful field. And the flames weren’t small, they towered up amongst the grass. It tore apart every blade, every petal, every leaf and threw them all up into the air to mix their ashes with the cascade of debris. Thick, dark gray clouds covered the sky. The warmth of the sun was blocked out, replacing everything with the cruel heat of the flames. Smoke filled his lungs in an instant, suffocated him with unrelenting plumes as the flames consumed the wildlife around him. 

“Wait- Wait, stop! Stop it!” 

His words echoed back to him, bouncing around his fiery chamber. They loomed over him, repeating over and over.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

The cracks along his arms crawled higher and higher. He looked down, watching the trenches engulf more and more of his skin. It ate him, throwing up embers. The embers flew through the flames. He didn’t know where they were going. But beyond these walls, he wondered how much of the field survived. 

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Trails tracked along his face, innocent expressions of fear and remorse that stood contrast to the world around him. He choked on the smoke, his body bending forward as the golden glow attacked his shoulders. He coughed, trying to force it back out. 

Slowly, heat built up in his throat. A wretched burn worked its way up to his mouth, it settled on his tongue and ate away at the saliva that accumulated there. 

His lip trembled, the last barrier between him and whatever lies beneath. 

For the first time since he entered this hell, he wished he could go home. He craved the soft, pillowy feeling of being surrounded by his family. Lines ran deep into his body, searing him from the inside out. But he grit his teeth, clamps down.

Silently, he begged for forgiveness. 

The world wouldn’t know, and he believes they would never know, that this was his fault. He was going to burn up and disappear, destroying everything in his wake. 

And yet, and yet. All he could imagine was his brothers. His sister. His fathers. He hoped they were safe, far away from all of this. He could imagine them now, laughing in the lair. They were oblivious, they were having fun. He could imagine what they’d say. 

“I wonder where he is.”

“I wonder if he’s coming home soon.”“I wonder if he’ll bring home pizza.”

A grin cracked at his lips. The stretch of his lips split the flesh. Beneath it, the same orange glow that corrupted the rest of his body. He clamped down with his jaw, breathing through his nose as the cracks started to spread across his face. 

He couldn’t hold on, he wasn’t strong enough.

“I’m sorry..”

The cracks exploded across his body as he finally let go. Flames rushed along the dry grass in order to join their origin once again. He screamed as he gave in, his body pulling apart at the seams. 

Mikey woke up with a choked gasp. He coughed, rolling onto his side in his hammock in an attempt to clear his throat from the spit that attacked him. 

He pushed himself up. Trembles raked through his body, the aftershocks of the earthquake that rocked his very core. His hand moved up to lay against his plastron. With the hard plate between him and his heart, he couldn’t feel his heart racing with his hand. But he could hear the pounding in his ears. 

That dream felt too realistic, phantoms of all the burns prickled around his body. His eyes flickered down to his hands, expecting to see the eerie orange glow. But all he saw were the light colored scars that still haunted him. But that was it, he was safe. 

Mikey fell back into his hammock, looking up at the ceiling of his room. He tracked the bright colors that formed circles and spirals. He let out a slow breath, his lungs deflating in his body. 

He laid there for an hour. His mind was slowly reeling with the memories of a dream that were burned in. Usually, dreams would fade away. No shackles to hold you in a single place, no trap to keep you stuck in bed. But this was fresh and powerful. 

Eventually, Mikey pulled himself up to his feet. 

The young turtle had a lot he wanted to get done today, especially after Leo came back with some new canvases. They were unused, but not completely clean. Spatters and stains along the bright white fabric. It was imperfect, but Mikey could see the inspiration.

So, the teen was set about getting all his other tasks done. He buried himself in what he had to do. He had originally planned on making something small like cereal for breakfast, but it felt too fast. A full meal was in order then, pancakes and bacon and juice and toast and scrambled eggs. 

Then, he took his focus onto the dishes. Donnie had built a dishwasher, he could be using it, but instead he took to hand washing them. And well, it would be rude to just leave them drying on the counter, so he dried them too. Then, since the job was already two thirds of the way done, he put the dishes away too. 

Mikey was on his way back to his room when Raph pulled him aside and asked if he were interested in sparring at all. How could he say no to that? Clearly, he couldn’t. He focused on the fight intently, filling his head on which strike or duck he was going to do next. It was almost a blur, what happened. 

In fact, a lot of it was a blur. 

Yes, Mikey knew he did things. He knew he made breakfast, he knew he had washed and put away all the dishes, he knew he had sparred with Raph. 

And yet, if you had asked him any specifics, he would draw blanks. His mind was busy. 

So, despite his brother's calls to join him in the living room to play games, Mikey found himself walking to the small corridor where he kept most of his art supplies. It used to all be in his room, but when they were cleaning up the lair after the Kraang’s failed invasion, Mikey had moved a lot of it to what he called his studio. 

He had outgrown the space, he had claimed. He was a blossoming artist who needed to spread his wings. 

As he walked into his space, the familiar scent of disinfectant and paint filled his nostrils. The walls had been cleaned recently and his paints were all scattered about. His acrylics, his pastels, and his oils. Mikey moved to sit in the center of the room. He gathered up some nearby supplies and stared down at his blank canvas. 

With a deep breath, he got to work. Recently, he has been working with a lot of abstract concepts. Colors in broad strokes across a canvas, pushing expression into nothing and everything all at the same time. One of his last paintings was a real whirlwind of color. He chose greens, blues, reds, purples, and oranges. All sharp lines, all bouncing along the surface, but aimed down towards the cluster of pink and gray at the bottom. 

Mikey proudly hung that one up on the wall, he had named it To Rise Above. 

This painting, however, was proving to be rather difficult. Mikey let his heart guide his hands, reds and oranges and yellows force themselves onto the page. Sharp angles that erupt from soft curves, contradictions in forms. There was chaos erupting on this canvas, all surrounding a little black blob in the middle with two glowing orange eyes. 

Mikey paused as he took a step back to process what he saw. 

Just like his dream, he was surrounded by fire. 

His hearing tunneled, his eyes unfocused. He dropped his brush to the floor, the orange paint splattered lazily against the concrete. 

“I see,”

Mikey jerked himself back to reality, turning his gaze up behind him to catch Draxum standing behind him. The goat man had his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, eyebrows drawn tight together but his focus was on the canvas. 

“Tell me, Michelangelo, what does this depict.” Draxum asked, using his foot to lightly push Mikey’s paint palette out of the way before slowly sinking to sit criss cross beside him. 

“It..” Mikey’s expression tightened for a moment. His dream  had been a vision of terror, it felt too real to be just a dream. It almost felt like a calling, a promise of what was in store for him. 

A purple clawed hand came to rest on his shoulder, his thumb brushing against the tension that laid beneath the surface. 

“I had a dream last night.. That I did this..” Mikey spoke softly, letting the canvas drop to the ground. His head fell into his hands, smearing colors against his face. “I guess it’s just sticking with me… I remember how it felt and it.. That energy felt a lot like when I used my mystic mojo to open up that portal,”

He shook his head, laughing softly, “But that’s stupid, why would I feel like that? I can make portals, portals shouldn’t make fires like that,”

Draxum hummed in response, “No, they shouldn’t,” He responded, pulling his hands into his lap, “Meditate with me, Michelangelo,”

Mikey looked up at Draxum for a moment, watched as the elder closed his eyes and straightened his posture. The young turtle followed suit, folding his hands over his lap as he felt his eyes close. 

“You have very powerful abilities, Michelangelo. Very unpredictable abilities. I’m sure they scare you, do they not?” Draxum questioned. 

Mikey stayed silent for a long moment, before nodding stiffly, “It hurt.. A lot. Making that portal.” Mikey’s fingers brushed against one of the old scars, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else, not like that. But I don’t know how..” 

Silence grows between them. Mikey wonders if he’s said something wrong. Is there a chance he said something wrong? Surely so. He was a monster for even considering that he would have the ability to hurt someone. He was going to destroy the world-

“I know. Strong abilities are a blessing, but they can only become that with extensive training. With exercises that hone your energy into something productive, not destructive. You have nothing to fear, Michelangelo. You just need a helping hand.” Draxum responded, “I know, I had fears of my own once.”

Draxum’s hand fell back onto Mikey’s shoulder, lightly tugging the turtle to face him. Mikey opened his eyes to find his more recent father figure offering a reassuring smile that looked just.. So out of place. Mikey managed a smile of his own in response.

“You’re going to be extraordinary, Michelangelo. Just have confidence,”

[valentiyne]

𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 ❀ 𝗅𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌

Luke Hemmings x Fem!Reader Summary: Requested! Luke goes M.I.A for the second leg of their world tour, sparking a one sided tear in his relationship Warnings: Sappy Luke & happy ending I promise :-) Word Count: 1.3k (not proofread) Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

Luke Hemmings had a secret.

Not a small one-He didn't eat the last of my leftovers, nor did he use my expensive face wash in the shower. His secret was something his heart couldn't keep any longer. He'd been away on tour for 3 months now, and every night the only updatesI'd recieve about him through the boys.

"Mikey, you gotta tell me what's going on with him", I plead into the phone, biting nervously at my nails.

'Y/n, I have no idea.. I'm sorry." Im met with yet another click and I groan in frustration

I had begged each of them to tell me what's going on, all of them shrugging their shoulders or brushing off my question. I was one phone call away from hopping on the next international flight available and causing a scene at soundcheck.

"Hello?", I crammed my phone into the nook of my neck and shoulder as I heard shuffling on the other line. I stood in front of the coffee table, cleaning up the mess from the cheese and crackers I scarfed down while watching their newest interview. Luke seemed so out of focus- the boys having to nudge him to snap out of it and answer questions thrown his way.

"-oh you know what I mean", I heard a woman giggle from the other side of the phone as well as Luke's wholesome laugh. Pulling my phone away quickly, I scan the screen at the Caller ID to confirm that it indeed was my Luke calling me.

"Luke? Hello?", I try again, ultimately putting the phone on speaker to hear better. I was trying to ignore the uneasiness in my stomach forming, placing the crumby plate back down on the table before I sat down on the couch to steady myself.

"I mean she really has no idea about any of this", he says cooly, his voice speaking a little louder. I heard the woman with him laugh once more before speaking,

"Does she even know you've been in town for a couple weeks now?"

My heart drops, putting the phone on the coffee table in front of me, I bounce my legs up and down before slamming my finger down to end the call. It was one thing for him to be lying to me- but to cheat?

I cross my legs on the couch, ignoring the numerous calls from Luke that started to pour in. I couldn't stop laughing to myself- laughing about the fact I was stupid to think he'd casually be gone three months without contacting me once.

My eyes wander over to the display of rewards that littered the shelves, each one I can name the exact date and album they were granted for. I stood by his side since the release of their very first EP, recorded in his childhood bedroom. I stared at the photographs, a moment in time that was perfectly capturing our happiness. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the walls, not even when the front door swung open and a sweaty Luke stood in the doorway.

"Baby?", his tone is soft and sincere, nothing like the Luke that I overheard on the phone. I don't bat an eye towards him, my jaw clenched as he dropped his bag and moved closer.

"Baby please, look at me?", he steps in front of me now, crouching down to meet my dark eyes. He gives a sheepish smile before putting his large hand against my cheek,

"How much did you hear", sighing as he now pulls his hand to his hair now, waiting for any kind of response from me.

"When did you get back?"

He stares at me for a moment, trying to put on a shocked expression on his face. I stare at him now, my eyes meeting his baby blue ones.

"I got back on the 1st." He replies slowly, almost as if he's catching himself in a lie. Today was now the 13th- of February.

"Were you going to miss Valentine's Day too?", my voice is shaky, mentally beating myself up as I told myself I wasn't going to cry.

He pulls me into a tight hug, inhaling my scent for a moment before hoisting me up and carrying me towards our shared bedroom. The furniture we picked out together, stopping into four different stores before we found the exact materials to make it our home.

"No. Baby listen to me. Im going to make this up to you okay? Tomorrow morning I want you to dress up pretty like you always do and meet me at that resturant you love- the one on 21st street okay?" He whispers into my ear, placing me down on the bed slowly.

"Who is the girl?", I look towards the floor, watching him rub his eyes tiredly with a sigh.

"It'll all make sense tomorrow, okay?"

I give a mere nod before turning away from him and pulling the blankets closer to myself.

-

The resturant appeared closed on the outside, the February air littering my thighs with goosebumps as I look around for any indication that Luke was already here. I spotted what I thought was Michael's Tesla in an alleyway, but I brushed it off thinking it was someone else's. We didn't talk all morning, his side of the bed was empty when I woke and I didn't put up a fight about it this time. He held me all night, not loosing his grip no matter how many times I tried to push him away.

"Are you inside?" My fingers move slowly, having the push harder on the screen to get my cold tips to be detected.

He reads the text, not bothering to respond. I let out a large sigh and push past the revolving doors, spinning around until I'm met with the hostess. She gave me a nervous smile before leading me towards the back of the empty resturant, turning behind her to look me in the eyes numerous times.

The sound of plates clattering and people talking caught my attention, my eyes averting their gaze to the long dinner table. There, sat the boys, their companies and close family friends. I stood in confusion before Michael smacked Luke's arm quickly, causing him to turn around and face me.

"Y/n", He was breathless, staring down at me with a goofy smile on his face before he finally put one foot in front of the other. Reaching down, he grasped my small hand and dragged me to the front of the dinner table, his hands sweaty and body shaking.

"Luke what's going o-"

"Shh, please don't talk or Im going to forget everything I memorized and start crying" He laughs softly and I peer behind him, taking note of the numerous phones pointed towards me. I give his a confused look, my eyebrows raising as he takes my hand again.

"You have the core of my heart beating for you, a love beyond what a metaphor can express. I love you with every fiber of my being", he starts, clearing his throat before fumbling with his pants pocket.

Oh god.

He slowly falls to one knee, keeping one hand in mine as he speaks. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, it felt like we were the only two people on the entire planet.

"You are my rock, my constant source of strength, and my guiding light. I'm sorry for lying to you for so long, I just wanted it all to be perfect just like you. I needed to make sure the ring fit you perfectly and the sales lady was so excited for us. I want nothing more than to spend every day with you for eternity... Y/n", His eyes meet mine, a shaking hand reaching up holding a small box with a diamond ring in it. I gasp almost immediately, hitting his shoulder softly.

'Luke oh my god! Yes", I laugh and shove him again.

He wipes a tear with the back of his sleeve, smiling up at me with glistening eyes "I didn't even get to ask properly yet! Y/n, will you marry me- please?"

[another-melomanie-blorbo]

Master Post

~~~~~~~~~~~

A Shady Past AU

Chapter One

Chapter Two

~~~~~~~~~~~

Spark Gone AU

Introduction

~~~~~~~~~~~

More will be added this is just the start…

>>>>>>>>>>>

tags for my stuff ^^

#spark gone!au - anything related to this au

#a shady past!au - anything related to this au

>>>>>>>>>>>

And i can't believe i have to put this,

TC3$T, PR0$H!P, ETC ETC YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE. >:P

STAY THE FREAK AWAYYYYYYY

[snappedsky]

ROTTMNT: Retired Leo AU

Nothing like that first slice of pizza.

--

First Slice

Raph, Leo, Donnie, Mikey, and Casey poke their heads into the lair and take a quick look around. The TV is playing and Leonardo is stretched out across the chair with Splinter curled up on his stomach. Both of them are fast asleep.

The boys share a nod and dash through the room, silent as ninja. They arrive to the kitchen where they put a large, flat box on the table. They open it, their eyes widening in awe at their prize- an extra large deluxe pizza with extra cheese.

Unbeknownst to them, opening the box released its infatuating aroma, which has drifted out through the living room and into Leonardo’s nostrils.

“Okay,” Raph whispers, “I pulled the longest straw, which means I get the first slice.”

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry,” Leo demands impatiently, “before the old men wake up.”

“I swear, he cheats,” Donnie insists.

Raph licks his drooling chops as he carefully picks a slice to remove from the pie. But as he starts to reach for it, there’s a brief flash of blue sparks, and the piece is gone.

“What!” Raph gasps. The boys all groan and glare at the other end of the room, where Leonardo is standing, munching on the pizza slice.

“Thanks for the ‘za, kiddos,” he chirps.

“Man, you always get the first slice,” Mikey groans.

“Guess you guys just ain’t fast enough,” Leonardo shrugs, walking across the room. As he passes by, the boys see Splinter sitting on his shell, nibbling the second slice, and they sigh with annoyance.

[pez3639]

Help all i can think about is the Berzatto Family and White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes. It’s literally so depressing.

More thoughts below the cut :)

I was following the pack all swaddled in their coats

As the youngest, Carmen was used to just following his family. Sugar in front of him, then Michael, and sometimes Donna. He watched his family from the back of their heads. He watched what they did and tried to follow them the best he could. That was his identity for so long until he became a chef. All he based himself on was his family because he could never truly escape the chaos of them. He didn’t know who he was but he did know that all he had to do was follow them. He wanted to be like Michael until he wasn’t allowed to work with him. Then he trailed off. He went away, trying to piece himself together, but it didn’t work. He was still following Michael. He true passion was, at its heart, making his brother proud. He followed Michael until he was pushed away. In his attempt to find himself, he just cemented his need to make his brother proud. He was alway following them.

With scarves of red tied round their throats; to keep their little heads from falling in the snow

The scarves is what they held closest to themselves. For Donna it was her own self loathing. For Sugar it was her constant anxiety. For Mikey it was his substance abuse. Carmy didn’t have that. He was wide eyed and could be read like a book. His family kept their ways to protect themself while he was bare. He had nothing to shield him from the biting cold of life. Nothing he could use to hide behind. His family used their problems to keep their heads up. They weren’t allowed to show their struggles. Michaels had become so hidden that it took his life from him. His drug addled brain was what kept him warm in Chicago winters. Donna had the fire of hatred. And the boiling pot of fear protected Nat from frostbite. But nothing could stop Carny from struggling in the freezing temperatures of his mind and world.

And I turned round and there you go

Carmen had had enough. He was tired of being submissive and having fingers cold to the touch. He couldn’t stand watching his family march on all while he shivered. So he went the opposite direction and picked up a chefs coat on the way. He never had a clue to where he would end up until he set his sights on the culinary arts. If he couldn’t be someone in the outside world, he could lead a pack inside the kitchen all while being warmed by the fame of a stove. It was here where others began to watch the back of his head. It’s where he ignited his passion but also sparked the same habits of his family. He hated himself. He was constantly in a state of fear. He could always taste birth tobacco at the back of his throat no matter how many Michelin meals he prepared. His family watched him drive away only for him to crash and burn. But Michael and Nat couldn’t save him from the wreck. He pushed them so far that they huddled between themselves without Carmen.

And Michael, you would fall and turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime.

Carmen looked back from the wreckage of his life to only see Donna and Natalie. There was no Michael. There will never be another Michael. He shot himself. Carmen didn’t know what fueled it, but he knew Michael was gone. Not gone like his father, no. Gone for good. He put a big red stain in Carmens brain that can’t be washed away no matter how many hours he spends scrubbing at it. The blotch speed further and further as time went on. He skipped the funeral. He inherited the forsaken restaurant. He found Michael’s note and the hidden money. The blood will continue to spread until it overflows into his soul. He still has Natalie and Donna and sometimes Richie. But there is no more Michael. Only a gunshot and his body becoming covered with the cold Chicago snow.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I’m so sorry i couldn’t get this out of my brain until I wrote it. Please do request anything you’d like to hear. I’m gonna try and start a full length x reader fic for carmy soon. I hope this hurt you as much as it did me. thanks pookies <3

[softshuji]

It's late when Sanzu's call connects.

His voice doesn't burst onto the speaker this time, doesn't ring out with a clear and tinkly laugh that'll have your blood warming on instinct. It's quiet when he says 'hey pretty thing' and you know he's tired, subdued, exhausted even, that the long days in your absence are catching up to him, even if he'll pretend like the opposite is true.

There is a second of silence, his voice hanging in the air, some three thousand miles away, protected and cushioned by the safety of the end to end encrypted call. You wish it weren't the case, that he wasn't flopping onto a hotel bed so far away, the ache of your distance still so fresh, a clean cut across his lungs that has his chest tightening. He tries, you know this, you sense it in his voice sometimes, on days like today, where the scent of you doesn't linger on his pillows in the way he likes, the spill of your hair between his rough fingers, that he's tired, that he's exhausting with trying in general.

You love him for it anyway, all the effort, all the time, commitment that you're not sure he's ever shown to anyone that wasn't Mikey. Does it give you a sense of pride to be so completely devoted to? To say no would be a lie and you can't pretend you don't enjoy the pearly shine of his jadeite eyes when he bends to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, the inside of your ankles when they're over his shoulders, long and slow, sensual bites that trail from your calves to your thighs.

'Hi Baby,' you say, and roll over, taking the sheets with you, to his side of the bed where the indent of his body is pressed to the mattress, as if it remembers him just as much as you do. You put your cheek to the pillow, a strong inhale that settles in your lungs, nicotine and leather, gunpowder and metal and the spark of fire that clings to the fabric as eagerly as it clings to his skin. 'I missed you today.'

'I missed you too Pretty thing,' he says, the phone held between his ear and his shoulder as he uncuffs his sleeves, red turning to brown on the now off-white shirt that he tosses somewhere on the other side of the room. He won't say it, but you detect a yawn somewhere in there, a half-hearted sigh that has his shoulder sagging, the milky white of his tantalising chest that deflates with the fatigue leaking from his bones. 'I thought you'd be asleep by now.'

'Mhm, I was going to but I had something I wanted to talk to you about.'

He stiffens, in a way he can't help, and he hates that the tension creeps so easily into his skin, pinpricks of anxiety that have the breath stolen from his lungs. He knows he can't be there, he knows he's where he should be, but it never helps, that the simple fact is that he misses you and it sickens him, has him writhing in his sheets and reaching for his phone to hear you.

He coughs, a sniff that resonates through the encryption of the call. 'Oh yeah? Everything okay?' The shake of his voice is not lost on you and it aches, your hands twitching with the need to touch, to soothe, to run over the sharp edges of him.

'Mhm, yeah it's okay I just- I have a surprise for you. I was going to wait till you got back but-'

'...but?'

Your mouth is heavy, leaden, and your tongue clings to the roof, your teeth sticky and coated with a thin film of apprehension, anxiety, love and need all rolled together. You take a breath, and it feels like you're starving for air, the thin and cloying scent of him still buried in your lungs, your thighs rubbing together with the memory of the taste of him.

'-but it's your birthday so I thought...'

He blinks and a glance at the clock tells him it's gone 12, the clockface illuminated by the splash of white moonlight falling through the window, the sharp and luminous curls of light kissing at his exposed chest where the purple is now fading to yellow on his ivory skin.

'You're really drawing it out aren't you Princess?'

Despite yourself and the obvious tension, you laugh aloud, the sound muffled by your lips to his pillow, your nose to the duvet where the threads hold the leathery smell of him and his chest tightens with the sound, carefree and buttery, light and warm.

'Sorry- sorry, I'm just teasing you Haru.' You take a breath, your eyes fixed on a stray pink hair curling along the pillow, nestled safely between the mattress and the blanket. Then you're exhaling and the knowledge comes easy when you whisper against the receiver, 'hey haru, I think, you're going to be a dad.'

There is a terse silence that stretches then, a long beat of apprehension, broken only by the sound of his breath, the occasional shuffle of you in the bed, a crackle where the reception cuts and creases.

'H-Haru? Are you there?' you whisper, the heady rush and taste of love spilling into your throat.

His voice cracks, splits halfway down the middle and he clears his throat, forcefully, the ache in his stomach climbing along his chest, a hand seized around his heart and squeezing. 'You- you're pregnant?' he says it slowly, as if testing the words, as if they taste foreign to him, thick and heavy and unusual on his tongue.

'I...y-yeah maybe, I think so. I've only taken the test but- we- we can see a Doctor when you come back,' you say, the fabric bunched in your hands, the knowledge of your secret now crashing between you. 'I didn't want to wait.'

'Oh.' There is a lump forming in his throat, a stone that's turning and growing at the back of his tongue and he thinks and wonders if he'll cry, if the knowledge is too much to bear, more than he deserves, with someone he's hardly worth of in the first place. It's heavy, this impending event, the weight of it is zipping through his chest, along the blood in his veins. It feels like pain, like hurt, like a love that aches in his heart.

'Are...you okay? I'm sorry, maybe I should have just wait-'

'Pretty thing?'

'Yeah?'

'I love you.'

It spills out faster than he's able to stop, and it feels good, a little euphoric, a little painful and soothing at the same time when he senses your lips curve into a smile on the other end, a shy and embarrassed 'I love you too Haru,' that has the ends of his lips curving into the beginnings of a smile. There is fear somewhere here, somewhere in his skin, a gravity that tells him he's made a mistake, that this impending event can only mean pain for either of you. No, he doesn't think he has what it takes to be a Father, and yet, the cold and bleak edge of him is a little warmed by the thought.

'I- I'm- we're having a baby...' he says, out loud, a statement and a question tied together, his pupils heavy and sluggish, his head pulsing with a love so big and beautiful that he thinks it might eat him, might pull him by his legs to drown in.

You laugh, uncertainty, love, warmth that feels like honey to him, like the sun on his skin when you say 'y-yeah, yeah we're having a baby Haru.' He hears you sniffle, the scratchy crackle of you standing to find a tissue and then settling back into bed.

But it hurts a little less, and feels a little better when you say 'Happy Birthday Haru.'

And it is.

reblogs appreciated!

happy birthday favourite pink baby boy <3

[justletmereadmycomics]

Part Two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look, I keep being told I’m doing this hero thing wrong. But I got the key, didn’t I?! I get results. So now we’re doing it my way.” Mikey watched helplessly as Leo stepped through the portal, anxiety eating away at his insides. He could’ve stopped him, couldn’t he? He’s Doctor Feelings, he’s supposed to be an expert on these things! But he just stood there and… let it happen. No, no time to think about that. Gotta focus on the problem at hand. April stepped over to Casey, the key sitting in his hands. “What do we do with this?” She asked, some sort of crackling rose under the conversation that was somehow going unheard by everyone else. The portal was flickering, fizzing and snapping so loudly that somebody should’ve noticed.  Casey sighed. “We can’t just leave it be. The Kraang will find it somehow, and there’s no way we can get far away fast enough. And if they find the key, then they find us.” The crackling was getting louder.

“Guys-”

“Then we should destroy it. Splints and I will figure out something, you guys focus on reaching Leo and saving Raph. Kick some alien butt for me for giving my friends trouble.” The fizzing was starting to drown out Mikey’s thoughts, and he started backing away.

“I think-” Mikey muttered. They weren’t paying attention. “Something- Leo’s portal!!!” He wailed, at last getting the attention of the others. The gateway appeared to be slowly expanding, small bolts of electricity flying off of it and rapidly sparking out. The sizzling was soon accompanied by a sinister whir, the noises growing in tandem as the group finally turned to see the development. It got louder… and louder… and louder… and-

pop.

It was gone. Everything was gone. The portal, the lair, the universe. It just… vanished. Reduced to nothing by haywire magic. ...I wonder where Leo is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

start/prev - next

There you have it... Part two... yay! /gen if this is confusing then shit guess you gotta wait for part three to be un-confused also please ask me questions I am sitting here vibrating with t h i n g s

[colibrie]

So @trilobitepunch had this GORGEOUS art for a crossover between Rottmnt and Star Wars (if you haven't seen it, then what are you reading this for?! Go check it out!). Being two nerds, we got to chatting, and here is a little piece of the results.

RISE OF THE TENNAGE MUTANT NINJA JEDI (working title)

1. Mikey and Leo

Someone was crying, yet everywhere he turned dark walls rose to block his path. Otherworldly shrieks and howls ricochet, pounding a cruel spike ever deeper into his brain until he could not move, see, or speak. Hot iron coated his tounge as the cry came again, as he blindly threw out an arm, reaching and groping in the dark for a faint spark of...

"Leo! Hey. Hey, Leo!"

The smell of paint and moss replaced the fetid oder of sewage and blood, dragging his mind from the mangled remains of its dream into the irritatingly soothing bounds of predawn reality.

"G'way Mikey," he groaned, burying his face in the sleeve of his sleep shirt.

"Nope! Today's the day baby!" His little brother cheered, sunny voice barely contained to a serviceable whisper as his fingers moved to tickle the back of Leo's vulnerable neck. "Get up lazy shell!

"Aren't you the one always after me to get more sleep?" Leo grumbled as he cringed, one baleful eye slitting open to glare at Mikey. Not that his ire seemed to matter to the younger terrapin as he bounced around their shared room, collecting their clothes and belts as well as a handful of Leo's preferred ration bars.

"Aren't you the one always ignoring me? Besides, it didn't look like you were having a particularly good time anyway."

Warm brown eyes peaked over one green shoulder as Leo slowly worked himself upright, softness in the words that followed wrapping carefully around his frayed nerves.

"Same one as usual?"

Leo nodded, keeping his head down as he accepted his shirt and pants.

"Still don't remember what it was about?"

He nodded again.

"Wanna talk about it anyway?"

"There's not much to say Mikey," he sighed, tugging at the hem of his shirt until it sat properly over his shell. "I'll be fine. I always am, right?"

"Yeah... but you know, if you ever do..."

"You'll be the first in line Dr. Feelings," Leo teased, playfully knocking his knuckles against his baby brother plastron before gently pushing him back so he could stand and fasten his pants. "Now what did you do with my jacket?"

"What did you do with dad's holocron?"

"What makes you think I have it?"

"Because I went to steal it before I woke you up and it was gone."

"Gasp! My own brother, a thief! Where could I have gone so wrong!" Leo warbled, hands flying to his face in a poignant display of heartbreak and shock.

The snort Mikey gave in reply, coupled with an eye roll he did not even attempt to hide suggested Leo's performance had once again gone unappreciated.

"Come on Lee, we're wasting time! Cough up the holocron, or no jacket!"

"Ugh. My talents are clearly wasted here," Leo mumbled, petulantly drawing out the moment by fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Leo..."

"Fine, fine. Behold Mr. Grumpy shell."

Leo reached out, deft fingers brushing the joint between Mikey's neck and carapace, a place that never failed to make his sensitive brother squirm and giggle like youngling. By the time Mikey looked again, the holocron sat innocently in Leo's palm, it's serene blue-white glow softly lighting the shadows of their little room.

"How do you do that?!" Mikey gaped, begrudgingly pulling Leo's coat and mask from beneath his bed when Leo simply smirked in reply.

"That, dearest Angelo, oh wise jedi master, is for me to know and you to figure out."

"Show off," Mikey huffed, plucking the cube from Leo's palm. "Finished getting dressed and meet me outside. We have training to do!"

[wingedcupcaketimemachine]

Scattered Remains (TMNT 2012 and Rise! Crossover)

Summary: After April’s enhanced psychic powers destroy Donnie, she attempts to bring him back to life. But, the purple turtle she finds is not her own

Warnings: Spoilers for TMNT 2012 Season 4, Episode 22

A/N: I’m finally done with the first chapter! If this does well, I might create a comic based off of it on my art account!

Fic starts below cut

TMNT 2012 Masterlist

Rise of the TMNT Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Red, is that really you?” Casey asks, as he cautiously approaches April.

“I think so. But Donnie,” she says with teary eyes, “What have I done.”

The group stands still for a moment before Leonardo breaks the tense silence.

“It’s not your fault April. You had no control,” he says.

“But it is!” she gasps, looking up at him through her tears, “It was all me in a way. If only-”

She pauses for a moment, focusing on the broken crystal shards.

“Donnie’s not gone! He wasn’t really destroyed, just molecularly scattered,” she says as she faces the turtles and Casey, “I can bring him back.”

The boys watch in anticipation as April’s powers hone in on Donnie’s energy. If she can bring him back, she can make her family whole again.

She has to bring him back.

The turtles and Casey watch as blue sparks fly through the air, forming the silhouette of a body.

The turtles watch, full of anticipation. Their brother wasn’t gone. He was coming back!

Their excitement quickly turns to horror as they realize the figure in front of them is not Donatello.

Though not their missing brother, April still managed to bring another mutant turtle to the place where Donnie had been vaporized minutes before.

This turtle seemed younger, maybe by a year or so.

Raphael breaks the stunned silence as he holds a sai against the neck of the unfamiliar turtle.

“Who the hell are you? And where’s my brother?”

“Woah, Raph! Chill out dude!” says Michelangelo, pushing his brother out of the way, “He’s just a kid. And he’s scared.”

Michelangelo was right. The mystery turtle was still pale and shaking even as Raphael released him from the ground.

“It's ok mystery dude! We’re not gonna hurt you…anymore,” says Michelangelo, glaring pointedly at his hotheaded brother.

Raph rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“What are you doing Mikey? This is some random mutant that April brought here with her freaky crystal powers. We have no idea what it’s capable of.”

“Mikey’s right,” says Leo after a long stretch of silence, “This turtle is just a lost kid. He was brought here with April’s powers, which means he’s our responsibility. We have to take him back to the lair.”

“Are you crazy Leo? We have to focus on finding Donnie. Our brother is lost somewhere and you're focused on a random mutant we found on the street!”

Before another argument could break out, the mystery turtle interjected.

“Your brother’s name is Donatello?”

The group of teenagers looked over in shock. Michelangelo was the first one to respond.

“Yeah, dude. He disappeared when April got possessed by a freaky alien crystal.”

“The same crystal that brought you here,” says April in shock, “I was trying to find Donnie, but it brought you instead.”

“So that means…you’re Donnie?” asks Casey.

“Yes,” says the other turtle, “Just not your Donnie..”

“We have to get back to the lair and talk to Master Splinter. We’ll come up with a plan to find our Donnie and get this Donnie back home.”

“Seriously Leo?” Says Raph, “You’re gonna believe him just like that? Even if he is a Donnie he’s not our brother. We can’t just take him to the lair.”

“Think about it Raph,” says Casey, “If April accidentally brought the other Donnie here, our Donnie is probably stuck wherever he came from. Trustingthe other Donnie is our best bet.”

Raph huffs, but doesn’t argue any further.

“That’s it then. We’re headed back to the lair,” said Leo, “April, you should probably come with us. Maybe you can help Donnie replicate the research that you and Donnie did on the crystal.”

April and other Donnie both nod in agreement.

“I might be able to use other me’s research to try to replicate a similar

kind of technology that could get me home,” said the alternate Donnie, “If all goes well we should be able to find your brother too.”

The group looks to Raphael, gauging his reaction.

“Fine,” he said after a beat of silence, “But that doesn’t mean we trust you. All we need you for is to get Donnie back.”

The group sits in tense silence as Raphael stalks off towards the Shellraiser.

“Don’t worry about Raph little dude!” says Michelangelo with a small smile,

“He’s just worried about Donnie. He’ll come around.

“Mikey’s right. It’s nothing personal…probably,” says Leo before looking over to the Shellraiser, “We need to get back to the lair and tell Master Splinter what happened.”

“It’s late, I should probably get home,” Casey finally speaks up, “Let me know if you come up with any ideas on finding Donnie.”

The group watches as his figure retreats into the night before following

Leo into the Shellraiser.

[whattraintracks]

9. What's Wrong with Me - TMNT 2012

A follow up to Day 2. Raph gets hugged, held, and loved.

Raph wakes up exhausted. He's waspish without trying, takes offense at every look and touch and tease, and he just knows. He doesn't even bother pretending to meditate before training. He counts his breaths, staring at a candle until his eyes unfocus, and all he can hear is his racing heartbeat.

Sensei pairs him with Mikey for sparring, and he thinks, hopes, maybe this'll help? Maybe he just needs to twist, and kick, and punch the buzzing ache out of his limbs. Maybe it'll be enough.

It's not.

Because Mikey is determined to show him up today, and boy is he in fine form. He can't get a single hit in with sai, fist, or any other part of him. Mikey is completely untouchable as he dodges and flips and taunts and laughs and laughs and laughs.

And for a single terrifying second, Raph really truly wants to maim him.

So he runs.

Casey, for once, doesn't ask stupid questions when Raph shows up unannounced at his window. He tugs on his gear and leads the way to heads that need cracking. Doesn't seem to mind his silent company either, which is pretty cool of him, but apparently not at all what Raph needs.

Sparring with Mikey had sparked this painfully angry feeling between his lungs. The thing sitting tensed in the hollow of his belly all morning tore itself out of Raph's body, uncaring of who got hurt so long as someone did. But at some point between here and the sewers, it curled back into his shell. Now, that's all Raph wants to do.

The thought of fighting punks with Casey, even just being around Casey, is drawing his skin too tight. They haven't said a word, but everything else is too loud. The cars, the street lamps, his thoughts, his skin, and his feet hitting the concrete. The longer he runs beside Casey, saying nothing, the more inches gained against rage give way to something sticky and cold and awful in an entirely different way that he can't explain.

So before his spiraling thoughts can send him tripping off a roof and long before they find anyone to beat up, he ditches his best friend and makes the march of shame back home.

What's wrong with me.

He stops before the turnstiles. The same thought looping in his head since he left Casey.

What is wrong with me.

Training is long over. Two fists against his plastron. The awareness that someone might be in the main room. He doesn't move.

He doesn't want. He can't. He should go to his room. Crawl into bed, then his shell. Sleep for the next week. He hasn't eaten. Spike needs to be fed. He stands at the top of the stairs. He thinks he might be stuck.

What is wrong with me?

Something moves. Someone. Leo. Not Leo, please. He looks at Raph and sees something small and fragile and prone to tears. Something five. Something gone gone gone.

Maybe that's just in his head, too.

What is wrong with me!

"Piss off, Leo." He unsticks. He steps. He stops.

"Raph, wait." Leo shuffles. Nervous. That's wrong.

Viscous oil fills his lungs. A familiar anger reserved for his own wrongness. His big brave brother is nervous worried afraid. Of him.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH

"Do you want a hug?"

He blinks.

Blinks again.

Blinks at Leo, and his brain restarts.

Leo walks closer, and now Raph can see slow, steady purpose in his steps. He's telegraphing and deliberately noising his footfalls. Not with fear or anxiety, not even mischief, as far as he can tell. There's a careful look of concern that speaks to something more. He stops just an outstretched arm's length away, posture open and patient.

It isn't much work at all to stumble into his brother's arms, to let them encircle him with their impressive strength. When Raph starts sinking, Leo drops to the floor with him, never letting up on his fierce hold.

At last, the awful throbbing thing that sometimes takes residence in Raph's chest is soothed.

"I love you, bro," Leo says, quiet and warm and just for him.

Raph hugs back fiercely enough to push a wheezing laugh out of his big brother's lungs.