#2k12 tmnt fic

[soldrawss]

Something something 16yo 2k12 Mikey gets sucked into a portal and sent into the RISE universe and ends up helping raise the RISE kiddos AU

[imagionationstation]

Was ANYONE going to tell me that baby turtles kiss (bump beaks) each other to express love and nuzzling is one turtle’s way to confirm the safety/possession of another turtle???

Like, they NUZZLE to say “I love you are you okay you’re mine” ALL AT ONCE. It’s NOT just some silly little motion. It has MEANING!

The kind of meaning that could TOTALLY translate as “I would kill for you just point at who” in a scared moment LIKE AH

DO YOU KNOW WHAT WRITERS COULD DO WITH THIS KIND OF VALUABLE INFORMATION???

DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH FANFICTION MY BRAIN IS INTERPRETING IN AN ENTIRELY NEW WAY???

[up-the-anti]

saw this tumblr quote and thought of that GODDAMN orange turtle from that GODDAMN fic AGAIN💔

[goodlucktai]

Uhuuh if you don't mind for the injury promo maybe 12 with splinter/lou and his boys, pls?

dialogue prompts

12. “Where are they? Where are they?!”

this one got away from me :') rise/2012 crossover babyyyyyyy

x

Splinter’s counterpart reacted to the news of their sons’ abduction with a level of dramatics that he would never ascribe to his own self. 

“What?” the shorter rat (“Call me Lou,” he had said, and then proceeded not to explain why) squawked at the disheveled humans still trying to collect their breath at the entrance of the lair. “When did this happen? How did this happen? There were TEN of you!”

Casey and April both winced in face of the not-unwarranted scolding. The children had had perhaps too much confidence as they left together earlier that evening. Donatello’s computer had alerted him in the middle of dinner to a new lead on the gang whose activity they had been following for the past weeks. Raphael had smashed his fists together, a wicked grin on his face, and said they should strike while their forces were doubled and make those ‘goons’ regret robbing every pharmacy in Manhattan north of The Battery. 

“Tiny feral Raph is hilarious,” Lou’s Purple had said in a deadpan. “And also alarmingly down to commit atrocities. I want to ride with him.”

And now, not even two full hours later, their human companions returned to report a resounding failure. 

Casey, scowling at the floor, said, “They got the drop on us. The door sealed as soon as we were in and the room started filling up with gas.”

“They said they were chemists,” April added. She couldn’t lift her head enough to look Splinter in the eye, staring hard somewhere near his shoulder instead. “One of their colleagues was mutated about a year ago and they’ve been studying the mutagen ever since. I don’t know what they want with the boys, but they made it sound like the gas was made with the turtle’s physiology in mind. That it would outright kill me and Casey, but shouldn’t harm them.”

Lou was bristling, tail lashing. “‘Shouldn’t’ is the word they used?” he gritted out. 

“Yeah. It hit them hard in seconds. But Blue—uh, your Leo—” Casey said, with an uncomfortable sideways look at Lou, “—he managed to get one of his swords out and portaled me and April away. We waited for like five minutes to see if he’d get anyone else out, but…”

But no one came goes unsaid. 

Splinter tapped his walking stick on the floor once to recall their focus, warm affection filling his chest for these little Hamato adoptees who fell haphazardly into his clan. 

“Lou is correct,” he said. “It is unfortunate that your team was so quickly overwhelmed. We will discuss how to better handle situations like this another time.” 

Both humans stood a little taller when it became clear that that conversation would be tabled for the time being, and April finally found it within herself to meet Splinter’s eyes. 

“For now—” he started, only for Lou to cut him off with a sound not unlike a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” the shorter rat snapped. “I don’t care if they lost within two minutes, let alone two hours. I only meant,” he went on, with a hard look at the teenagers, “that you should have called the instant you were in danger! Why on earth would you run all the way home like this without letting us know what had happened, putting yourselves at unnecessary risk? This organization could have had additional members waiting to pick you off when you were alone! You could have at least made time to send a text!”

Casey and April looked absolutely bewildered. Their respect for Splinter was so deeply ingrained by now that it carried over to this odd likeness of him but they did not seem to know what to do with this manner of reprimand. 

“Uh,” Casey said eloquently. “Splinter doesn’t have a phone.”

“There was the cheese phone,” April interjected. “Sorry, I mean, he had a landline. But the wiring got messed up awhile ago and Donnie never got around to fixing it.”

“You have seven children,” Lou seethed, narrowing his eyes at Splinter, “and you don’t see the importance of having a working phone?”

Splinter frowned. He was taken aback by the number seven, but more so by this hostility that seemed to have sprung up from nowhere. 

“We have gotten along just fine. Donatello’s inclination towards technology was not inherited from me.”

“There’s no time to continue this conversation, and if we do I am liable to start screaming profanities anyway. Jones, O’Neil, take me to my boys.” 

Lou was still bristling with anger, only now that Splinter was looking closer, he saw that the shorter rat was actually bristling. His fur was standing up as though with electric static. 

“If even one scale on their shells has been harmed,” he added darkly, to no one in particular, “there will be hell to pay.”

April led the way to the garage at a sprint, hopping up without breaking stride to grab the keys from their hook on the wall just inside the door. She tossed the keys to Casey and claimed the front passenger seat for herself, leaving the two fathers to pile into the back of the van. 

It wasn’t until she was still that Splinter noticed her fingertips were red and raw from where she had bitten the nails down to the quick. As Casey started the engine, her thumbnail found its way back between her teeth, blue eyes feverish with worry as she stared into the middle distance. 

She was very anxious, for all that she seemed determined to keep it to herself in present company. Her sideways glance at Casey made it clear that she wanted to share her thoughts with him; a flick of her eyes toward the rearview mirror decided her continued silence.

On the bench seat beside him, Splinter watched Lou take out his own phone. It was a thin flat device, held in a protective case that looked like it would probably survive an apocalypse. The caller ID on the screen was a picture of that behemoth snapping turtle in a fuzzy pink hoodie, squeezed cheek-to-cheek with his tiny spotted brother so they both fit into the frame. 

“Red, this is no time to screen my calls!” Lou said when the tinny automated voice encouraged him to leave a message. “Contact me at once or you are grounded for a month! No, two months!”

“They are probably in no position to answer,” Splinter pointed out, Lou’s restlessness leaving him feeling ill-at-ease. “I am sure they are fine. My sons have been in situations like this countless times.”

Lou pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yoshi, I’m going to level with you. I don’t know how to explain that it’s weird you have become desensitized to the news that your children are in danger. My Baby Blue once locked himself inside a prison dimension with an evil killing machine, and less than a year after that he almost cracked his foolish head open on that ridiculous half-pipe mimicking some superstar skater, and my soul left my body in exactly the same manner both times. That never changes. It has never gone away.”

It was disingenuous of Lou to presume that Splinter did not worry after his sons. Of course he did. They were his greatest pride and it was a privilege he did not deserve to have raised them. 

But they were not the clumsy toddlers they once were; at some point, the parent must let go of the bicycle and step back, or the child will never learn to ride it. 

Splinter could not say he had ever taken the time to consider what it might have been like to meet another version of himself—one who had lived a similar life but had made different choices. He almost did not recognize himself at all in the fussy, short-tempered mutant sitting beside him. 

Lou checked his phone no less than eleven more times during the twenty-minute drive. By the time Casey finally announced, “This is it,” Lou was out of the van before it had even begun to slow. 

“The two of you must remain here,” Splinter told the teenagers in the front firmly. He couldn’t help but think of Lou’s scolding from earlier, and added, “If there is any sign of danger, escape at once and go to the Mutanimals. They will help.”

“I texted the group chat earlier and they haven’t seen it yet,” Casey said, flicking through his phone to double-check. 

“We can’t just leave you,” April added with enough stubborn loyalty that she could have been Raphael’s twin sister. 

“You absolutely can leave us, or you will be grounded, too,” Lou interjected from over by the door, his voice taking on that sharp no-nonsense tone Splinter had last heard directed at Blue over breakfast to curb his relentless teasing of Donatello. 

‘It is just how he and Purple show affection to each other,’ Lou had explained to Donatello, whose shoulders had begun to creep up towards his ears the longer Blue carried on. ‘That does not make it any less irritating for the rest of us though!’

‘Skill issue,’ his twins said in unison. 

‘I will cram all three of you into the get-along shirt! Do not test me!’ Lou had snapped in that particular tone that caused his children to grumble and sulk but ultimately obediently subside. 

Similarly, April scowled but did not seem willing to argue any further. Splinter would have expected her to give a Miwa-worthy retort that she was too old to be grounded and not Splinter’s daughter to discipline besides, but she only jerked her chin in a barely passable nod and said nothing more. An equally unhappy but unargumentative Casey turned off the headlights and twirled the steering wheel, backing the van up and parking it by the access road.

Lou had already kicked the reinforced door down by the time Splinter joined him, and he barely had a moment to think My seventeen-year-olds are stealthier than that before he realized Lou had not come with stealth in mind.

He had the first unfortunate human within his line of sight pinned to the ground with a knife in seconds, barking, “Where are they? Where are they?”

The human, caught unawares, coughed at the unforgiving pressure on her windpipe, and managed to wheeze out, “Wh-who do you—”

“You are a scientist, and therefore I know you are not an idiot,” Lou hissed, much like the animal he had been mutated with. “Do not waste my time acting like one.” 

The woman scrabbled at his arms, for what little good it did. Her eyes, behind the clear visor of the gas mask, were wide with fear. To her credit, she steeled herself enough to cling to whatever mission she and her associates seemed to have rallied behind, saying, “So many incredible things could be—be accomplished—if we had a chance to study the mutagen more closely, if we had test subjects with human-like intelligence. It’s closer to magic than science, and we could do so much—”

“You would experiment on children? My children? Turn them into lab rats?” The last he said with a very personal sort of dark anger. The scientist coughed again, and her renewed struggles were a desperate, animalistic thing as she lost the last of her air beneath the unrelenting press of Lou’s hand. “Is that what you think you should be saying to me? Is that what you think will save you—an appeal to the greater good?”

Splinter dispatched the handful of people who streamed into the room in a series of swift strikes. They were unconscious before they hit the ground.

“Lou,” he said, “that is enough. We are here for our sons.”

He was not unsettled by the shorter rat’s capacity for violence. He knew himself better than that. But he did not understand Lou’s hair-trigger temper, his turtle-shaped blind spot. He couldn’t speak for the other’s students, but Splinter’s own were experienced, and tempered, and incredibly skilled. After everything they survived and accomplished together up until now, he found it hard to believe that an organization of regular humans could pose much of a threat to their well-being. 

From the way Lou was acting, it was as if he was any ordinary parent whose ordinary children had been taken in the night. 

Splinter shifted to intervene when the woman Lou had pinned continued to choke. Finally, Lou released her enough that she could heave in desperate breaths. 

“You would not actually kill her,” Splinter chided him, no fan of theatrics. 

“Someone has not been paying attention,” Lou replied shortly. “If my boys are hurt, I will burn this building down with everyone inside it. Honor can go hang itself.”

With that, he removed the woman’s gas mask and informed her that she would lead them to the turtles without making a scene, or she would bleed to death on the floor and they would find the turtles on their own. White-faced, she wisely settled for the first option. 

Leading them toward the back of the building, where rooms that were once offices had since been repurposed into labs and testing areas, the woman said hoarsely, “I didn’t know they were kids.”

Like clockwork, Lou’s fur bristled with offense. “They are wearing matching Sanrio hoodies. They speak in memes. I am sure at least one of them called you a boomer to your face.”

“No, I meant,” she said, touching her bruised throat briefly before dropping her hand, “I meant I didn’t know they were someone’s kids. I’m—I wouldn’t have—sorry. We were trying to do good. I’m sorry.”

“Hmph. I will consider forgiving you in roughly one hundred years as long as my turtles are completely fine. This door here?”

He kicked it down before she could move her head more than one half-inch in a nod. There was a flurry of excitement inside, and then Blue’s voice rang out, “Daddy!”

He sounded ecstatic to see his father, but not at all shocked. His words were a little slurred as he went on, “I told them you’d be here any minute. Our cousins over there wanted to stage a break-out, and I was like. Just nap. You know? Just take five. See, Miguel’s got the right idea.”

“Hush, silly turtle,” Lou said, his tone now a complete departure from how he had sounded for the last half hour. “Come here, let me look at you all. I need to be absolutely certain no one in this building deserves to die before we leave.”

Splinter joined him inside the room in time to take in the sight of the shorter rat attempting to hold all four of his much larger sons in his arms. Orange was deeply asleep in Red’s lap, his smaller stature probably contributing to the higher concentration of the drug in his system. The twins were upright at a forty-five degree angle, and Red himself seemed groggy but alert for the most part. They were smiling as they absorbed their father's fussy attention, leaning into his hands.

Comparatively, Splinter’s own sons were swaying where they sat. Michelangelo’s eyes were open, but his head was resting on Donatello’s shoulder, Donatello’s cheek propped on the crown of his little brother’s head. Raphael was wired, digging fingers into his thighs to keep himself awake, while Leonardo seemed to have been startled out of a meditation by the door crashing down. 

They all lurched with surprise to see Splinter standing there. Leonardo in particular gazed up at him with wide eyes, as if he didn’t know what to do now that the task of rescuing the seven others was no longer his responsibility. As if he had no experience with a burden being lifted away once he had decided it was his to carry. 

For the first time all night, Splinter faltered. 

On the other side of the room, Blue said, “I’m, uh, sorry. I wanted to get us out, but I didn’t have time for more than one door.” 

“Dum-dum,” Purple said succinctly. “O’Neil and Jones would be dead if they were still here.”

“Dee’s right for once, Leon,” Red rumbled, “you made the only call you could.”

“But I should have been able to save everyone, right?” Blue said. “I’m the leader.”

“You,” Lou said sternly, holding Blue’s face in both hands, “are seventeen.” 

That’s right, Splinter found himself thinking, looking down at his eldest son. The brilliant boy he taught to read, the one he taught to fold origami flowers for his mother and sister’s shrine, the one he had stopped holding one day without even realizing it. He is. 

[possumpilled]

They're best friends your honor

[keeryd]

Michelangelo ruins everything he touches, just like always. This time on purpose. It doesn’t matter… They aren’t coming back.

—Chapter 8: Walls Built Up, You Shut Down. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT LOVE MEANS (and it’s killing me) by Writing_In_Denial (link added)

Have I talked enough of this fic? I fucking LOVE it, and chapter 8 is so far my favorite chapter from the series, of course I had to make some art for it. Seriously, if u haven’t read it, you’re missing out.

[delulu-is-da-solulu]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽.:｡+•

⌦ .｡.:*♡Valentine's Day special˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

(tmnt fanfic spin-off fic)

2k12! Donnie x reader

Hurt/fluff

A/N: Before I start this I wanna explain what this fic is. I'm really excited for Valentine's Day, it's my favorite holiday, so I wanted to post a fic in the context of my actual series that doesn't actually follow the story. so if you're okay with that, then let's start. <3

word count- 1600

While in your room scrolling through Tumblr and listening to music, you hear a tap on your window. Scince theres only four people you know that enter homes vian window, you get up to open it. “Hey Don. what are you doing her-” When you looked up from your phone you saw Doonies face, puffy, with strained red eyes.

He comes in, and instantly tumbles onto your bed. You don't need him to tell you what happened, today is Valentine's Day, Donnie has been working on something for weeks, and well… he’s Donnie. “D- did she not like it?”

“No, she did like it. She just didn't like me,” he curls up in a ball, and ruins your freshly made bed. “I- I don't know what I did wrong?”

“Donnie, you didn't do anything wrong she just didn’t like you.” You lay down on your bed next to him, while patting his shell in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Well, why not!” He jerks up, you jump back startled. Donnie’s never been aggressive towards you, he looks more mad than he does sad, and that bothers you beyond extent.

“Hey don't scream at me 'cause you got rejected! She doesn’t like you, get over it!” you push him off your bed, and look down at him irritated. “Donnie, I understand you liked April, but she’s like the only girl you know! your ‘feelings’ for her are just the way you react to seeing a woman.”

“Then what are you, a hermaphrodite?”

You burst out in laughter, “What!?”

“You heard me! If I’m attracted to every woman I see you mustn’t be one, cuz I’m not drooling over you!” He pokes your shoulders over and over again, till you're stating his hands away like flies.

“Well, screw you asshole!” the two of you started laughing together, “w- well my dicks probably way bigger than yours!”

“Wow, you've only been a man for a couple of seconds and you’re already trying to start a dick-measuring contest. I can feel the testosterone radiating off you.”

“Yup!”

 Donnie looks up at you with a somewhat remorseful face. “Hey, uhh… (Y/N), I’m sorry about lashing out at you. I don’t know why I did that.” he lifts himself off the floor of your room and rolls onto your bed. He rests his head down on your lap and cuddles up to your thighs. “Will I ever find love?”

You let out a light chuckle, “Oh woe is you. Donnie, it feels like people get mutated every day, one day someone might get mutanted and you might like them. And the Krang even being a thing proves that aliens exist! Who says you can't get an extraterrestrial baddie?”

“You flatter me, (y/n) if I can’t get a girl as beautiful, smart, and caring as April, what makes you think any other girl will want me?”

“Looking at how pathetic you are now, I have absolutely noooo clue. But you’ll make it work, you always make it work.” you pat the back of his head, much to Donnie's irritation.

“You know how much I hate that.” he pinches you.

“And you know how much I hate you.” you slap the back of his neck, and he jerks back holding neck as it stings, while you chuckle to yourself.

An hour or two later of just rotting in your bed, Donnie perks up with his "I’ve got an idea!" eyes. “Is your mom home, or siblings!?”

“No. why do you ask?" All of a sudden he picks you up by your thighs and he starts to go downstairs with your legs flailing. “Donnie what are you doing, put me down?”

you scream before you’re thrown on the couch, with Donnie sitting next to you. You were gasping for air, “D- dude, what’s your… FUCKING… PROBLEM!?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” he said as if he didn’t just forcibly remove you from your warm comfortable bed.

“So?” you throw a pillow at him, which he catches before it can touch his face.

“What else do two single, hopeless romantics, do on Valentine's Day when neither of them have a valentine?” 

“Cry?”

“Already did that.”

“Watch romance movies?”

“Bingo,” he says with a cheeky smile, "so I’m thinking, of Mamamia, Enchanted, or my personal favorite. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!”

“Every time we watch a movie together, you say Beauty and the Beast.” you chuckle, while his once confident and excited face becomes slightly embarrassed. “What about the princess bride? Ooh, or Labyrinth!”

“You always say Labyrinth! It doesn’t matter how many times you watch it, you won't become Sarah, and get to dance with David Bowie, in an all-white puffy ball gown.”

“Damn, you can’t just let a girl dream?”

“You crushed mine of rewatching Beauty and the Beast for the 85th time, so NO.”

It took about ten minutes for you and Donnie to both decide on a movie, but when you did the two of you were so into it.

“Anastasia.” you sigh, with a hint of whimsy in your voice.

“It never misses,” Donnie took another chocolate out of the box. “I thought you didn’t have a valentine, who got you these chocolates?”

“My dad.” you open the second box, “These ones are way better, I always open the shitty ones first.”

“These chocolates aren’t shitty, I really like them. And that's really nice of your dad to try and make you feel special.” Donnie's smile is truly adorable, even when it’s so obviously forced it can't help but make you grin. I guess people are referring to Don when they say, "a smile is contagious."

“Yeah, his are good, but I like the ones I bought better.”

He looks at you confused, “You bought yourself chocolates? If I knew you wanted some I would’ve gotten it for you. Now I feel bad.”

“No, I got them for someone else. But I decided it’d be best to not give it to them.”

“Wha- why not!?” The look of shock on his face is enough to make you choke on your drink. As you start coughing Donnie starts patting your back, trying to help.

“Hee- ha, hee- ha” As you were wheezing, you glanced back at Donnie and his face was even worse. If you had your phone you’d take a picture and meme it. “Donnie stop!”

“Stop what!?”

“You’re face! It’s killing me please…” After a couple of minutes, you managed to regain yourself. “Okay, okay I'm good now.” you look back at Donnie and he’s just waiting.

“You’re done?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me why a pretty girl, decided to get a guy chocolates on Valentine's Day, and just thinks to herself 'he wouldn’t like me.' and gives up!”

“Donnie-”

“I’m a mutated turtle and I gave it a shot! Did it land? No. it didn’t even hit the target. But I tried! What kind of psycho wouldn’t like you? You’re great to talk to, you're so talented, you’re pretty, you're fun, and it’s impossible not to like you!”

“He already likes a girl. The two of us are friends and he likes a girl that isn’t me. And he’s been obsessed with her for a while, I would have given him the chocolates but- then it would’ve made things weird.”

Donnie was confused and angry, at this mystery guy he’s never met, and now he feels bad for ranting about something he didn’t know shit about. “I- I didn’t mean.” he felt bad for what he said… at least you think he felt bad, you had no clue why he suddenly had a poker face on.

“Donnie, Donnie?” you wave your hand over his face before he looks back at you.

“Why do you like him?”

“What?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious when you like someone. You don’t exactly hide the way you feel about people, so I’m shocked he didn’t pick up on it. I mean if he was that great if a friend, he’d know the way you feel about him, that’s all I’m saying…” 

he started tapping his finger on his knee as we continued to watch the movie. Donnie tapping only occurs when he’s stressed or mad. But why would he be mad at?... then you got a great idea.

“Hey, Donnie.”

“Yeah?” he looked down at your hands.

“Want his chocolates?”

“Wh- for me!?”

“Yeah, you’re a way better guy than Danish anyway. You deserve then Donnie.” you grab his hands and place them in his palms, but not before kissing him on his cheek. “I know I'm not April, but I’m still a girl, so you should start swooning sooner or later.” you chuckled before laying back on the couch.

You took his attention away from the movie, and you had it for the rest of the night. He didn’t eat the chocolates, he put them on the coffee table and said he was gonna eat them when he got home. Instead, he cuddled up to you, in a totally ‘platonic’ way.

“Don, I appreciate the affection but don’t you think this is weird?”

“No, you have socks on. We should watch Atlantis next.”

“I’m always down to watch Atlantis. But you’re getting up to get the remote.”

At 4 am, Donnie you two finish Hunchback of Notre Dame, and you fell asleep on the couch. He cleaned up the living room so your mom wouldn’t get mad, then he picked you up and tucked you into bed.

“Thank you (Y/N)" he places a kiss on your forehead. Then he leaves out the window.”

You wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, but on your way back to your bed you see something on your windowsill. You go over to see what it is and it’s a beautiful parasol, with a sticker on it, a purple turtle.

Thank you sooo much for reading!!! If you liked this please give me some feedback on ur favorite parts so I can get better at writing (cuz I’m really not the best) and I hope u have a good day <3

[idiot-mushroom]

here are my au doodles now please read my through your hollow bones fic!!

[mismatchedtwins]

Mismatched Twins - Take Six

Leon barely has time to blink.

Everything happens in a blur that's overlapped by blazing pain. He barely manages to get his hands on his odachi before he’s looking up and the Guy’s just gone. Dragged into the pitch black.

He can't act. He doesn't have the time to even think. The turtle's gone and he's alone and the vines are coming back for him.

His heart lurches to his throat. He turns and flees, grasping the grapple as it suddenly clicks and whirls. The thrusting vines come inches from his skin before he's launched far out of their reach.

He shoots up and watches as they merge into the black.

As soon as he reaches the top, Leo claws for a hold so he can climb over the edge and onto the flat surface.

He leaves the grapple and his sword, every inch of him trembles as he frantically scrambles away from the opening.

His chest burns where the turtle had fallen on him and his vision sways from the pain. He waits for the vines to follow him up and take him to the same place that they took the turtle. He jumps as a scream echoes from the black void down below and he clamps his hands over his head on instinct, kicking backward into the wall.

The screams continue. They get louder. And then they stop.

All Leon can hear is the sound of his own hysterical breathing.

What did he do? What did he do?

He left someone to die that's what he did.

His knees close against his chest. His hands move to cover his mouth. The guilt throbs like a gong. Or maybe that's his heart.

Leo looks at the opening. No motions. No sounds.

He doesn't know what to do.

The guy saved his life. And he let him walk into a den of death.

That's some way to return the favor.

Hysteria tries to lock in at the thought. A puff of air hits his palms, laughter too strained to be real. It wasn't funny. Nothing about this is funny. His nails bite into his cheeks. Leo let him die.

No. He doesn't know that. He might not be dead. Krang's vines didn't kill them. They held them captive. He could be alive.

Leo has to believe that. Leo has to save him.

He has to get back down there. But how?

Whether the vines were sleeping or using the element of surprise, they won't be this time. They'll sense him before he can even get through the tunnel. Once again, his ninpo sparks with life and he catches it, keeping it safely contained. It sputters in the cage, alive despite everything, offering to keep him safe and strong, like it had with any and every other danger.

He can still feel the burning through his skin back at the ship, an electrifying, powerful sensation that eradicated the vines from his system and surroundings in one swift blaze.

His marks flicker and Leon fiercely shoves the power back in the metal box where it can't extinguish itself. He feels the weakness bear down on him without it, but he drags himself to his feet because sitting around shaking sure isn't saving anybody.

Every breath hurts. He fights past it.

Leon takes out the phone that he'd shoved in his belt and shines it down below. His skin crawls when he sees that some of the vines are still slithering about, tangling underneath the dead ones. Some are retreating through the tunnel, lethargically slow now that there isn't someone to chase.

Right. They're alive. But.

What about the ones that... Aren't?

Leo looks to the vines that he used to get down. They looked- pretty alive? He wasn't really a vine expert. But they hadn't made any moves to attack either of them at any point, so even though all the vines look the same, something about them had to be different.

He could probably use the boring vines to get back down without alerting any of the evil vines. What does he do if they do notice him?

For a long moment, he looks down the drop.

"Yep. This is a terrible idea."

With that decided, he turns and walks in the opposite direction.

If he was smart, he wouldn’t have returned.

But he does. Because the turtle is indubitably alive.

And there's only one way to prove that he's right.

Though, quitting would have been easier.

Instead, he takes a very exhausting hike to grab what he needs.

He breaks to catch his breath and rubs his plastron until the ache is manageable. Then he drags the large sheet metal to the edge and lets it drop. It lands and he winces, waiting for his estimation to be wrong and the vines to react. They do not. He smirks.

He picks up the grapple and his odachi.

And then he starts trimming the walls. After a few handfuls are tossed, he dusts off his hands in satisfaction.

Heading to the familiar vine, he grabs onto it and heads down.

He can't believe he's actually doing this. It must be all that hero talk.

Raph is rubbing off on him in the worst ways lately.

His heart aches when he realizes that he'd never get the chance to tell him. No more sibling shenanigans. No hoarding his highest stack win over Donnie's head. No bite-the-pizza games. No more pizza.

He tries to block the notion. He focuses on deciphering where the dead vines and living vines might be. He reaches the bottom, feet resting on the only safe space, pressed against the cold metal. He takes the phone from his mouth, pausing when he looks forward and realizes that there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

He blinks, "Gram-Gram?"

Karai doesn't respond. The light is a strange orange color. It only reveals the end of the path and the tall stalks in the room. His heart races as a vine slithers right below him.

"If I should not go into the light, some better tell me now.”

The only sound is the soft shuffle of vines.

“Okay." He exhales. "Going into the light it is."

He notices the one that he's currently using as a rope doesn't travel down the tunnel like the others. It inserts into the wall.

He shrugs it off and then gets on his knees. He snatches pieces of boring vines littered over the metal and throws them, noting each time the vines react. They don’t seem to mind the random pieces of dead relatives, merely curling around them passively.

Snatching several for the road, he tucks the slimy things into his belt, shuddering at the feeling against exposed skin, and takes a deep breath. He stretches out, setting his foot on a patch that isn't restless. The vines keep shuffling around like he doesn't exist.

He shifts his weight and then releases the vines to plant both his feet into another assumably dead spot.

He doesn't move. One of the vines pulls back down the tunnel.

They must not think anyone would be crazy enough to return.

Too bad they're dealing with the one and only Leonardo Blue Splinterson. Crazy is basically a part of the Hamato package.

Empowered by his obvious superiority, he heads through the tunnel.

He ends up doing a couple flips and handstands when the distance is too long or the vines get too close to his position. His heart thuds with the adrenaline of success, acting as his own cheering squad under his breath. It almost sounds like breathless static, but he refrains from going any higher.

It could ruin the perfectly dramatic musical soundtrack that must be playing in his background. Then where would he be?

Just doing gymnastics in a silent tunnel. Boring.

He winces as he enters the suspicious light, looking up towards the source. There isn't one. The roof simply seems to be glowing.

A solid thud reverberates through the room and his phone slips from his fingers. He frantically grabs it and smashes it against his chest before it can land. He eyes the vines that are doing their best snake impressions. He'd have to give them an 8 out of 10.

They seem a bit to tentacle-lly for his tastes.

Leo makes his way to the sides of the room and then sets his attention on searching for the missing turtle. All the vines seem very interested in only one of the stalks, swimming and weaving in a highly conspicuous way.

"Yeah, he's totally in there."

He gets out his odachi and begins to make his way across the room. The thud repeats and he watches the large mass that the turtle had been interested in contract and then expand.

Weeiiiiiird.

He stops under the stalk. He has to move fast.

The moment that he touches it; he'll be the next prey.

So he turns to the stalk beside it and climbs to the top. He perches there, hanging from mismatched stitching, and tosses his sword lightly. He takes a breath. It lands in tight fingers.

Leo kicks his body forward, slices through the wiggling life, and then grasps his sword tight as vines shoot for him. He curves away from them, watching as they embed in the stalk behind him.

He uses the one over his head to pull himself up, swinging his weight onto his hilt. He catches his balance and swiftly moves for the new opening in the stalk. He yanks the blade out once he's steady and turns to retrieve the waiting turtle.

Only to pause when he’s faced with his failure.

There are too many vines. They’ve injected themselves into so many places where vines are definitely not supposed to be and there’s a big nasty one in his neck. Leon has no idea how he’s supposed to get them out of him without some serious surgery that he does not know how to do and absolutely should not be doing at any point, especially not in an unsterilized, filthy, deadly prison dimension.

He hesitates too long.

The vines latch onto his legs. He stabs down, only for them to shoot out from beside him and insert into his arm. He cries out at the pain that radiates from the area, swinging the blade as his ninpo flares in panic. He can still feel the vine under his skin, vile and unmoving as he ducks one aimed for his skull. Two more vines pierce, stealing his attention so more can firmly snatch his legs.

The heavy, echoing thud swallows his cry.

The energy pulses across his skin, tiny sparks that dance along the vines and beg for the freedom to act. It spreads comforting heat that flickers a glow over his marks and he knows that he could transport away if he only wants to- think of one place, a single haven, and trust trust trust trust it’ll get him there. A brief burst, a final escape, all he needs to do is want to want to need to leave-

Blue crawls along his body. Fingers dig into the vines. NO-

“-AHHHH!”

He screams as they crawl deeper, hatred and fear buzzing in his chest, before something hits the back of his neck. He falls forward as he's shoved further in, unable to move or think or breathe, catching himself on the suspended turtle's plastron-

His ninpo pops, and the turtle jerks, and energy flares up Leo’s arm to mix with the oh-so-giddy whirl of electricity. Then heat darts across his flesh, sparking outward, and the vines explode.

He gasps in a burst of air as a thrill hits his body and pain becomes meaningless as his ninpo begs- pleads- push back.

So he collects the buzzing energy that’s humming and dancing and His but also Not and hopes that he knows what he’s doing when he focuses on getting it out.

His arms are sparking blue but the turtle’s arms are glowing before it hits his chest and the rest of his body joins the party. His eyes snap open, a blank, burning white with blue barely shimmering underneath, and Leo’s jaw drops as it fires outward, eradicating the vines and the stalk. They free fall and more vines shoot up.

His ninpo swirls and cheers as Leo grabs the lifeless arm and his sword pops into his other hand as he declares, “HOT SOU-!”

FLASH.

Comforting heat surrounds him and energy zips through his veins.

This is right, but something about it feels wrong.

The portal spits them out like old gum.

Leo hits the ground with a gasp. He releases the turtle to scan the perimeter, ready for another threat to rear it’s head. He doesn’t remember where he was thinking of going when they ran.

Apparently, it was about the entrance to their personal death trap.

At least it’s somewhere familiar?

The Krang creature is still limp on the ground where they left it.

Leo looks back down the tunnel, completely ready to be swarmed by vengeful vegetation.

Silence echoes back to him. He blinks, cautious.

Oh man. Oh geez. He’s alive. He’s actually alive!

Leo scoots back until his shell knocks the wall.

His ninpo refuses to acknowledge the new adrenaline drained exhaustion, spinning and buzzing and searching? with a giddy joy that is incredibly inappropriate for the less immediate but still continuing crisis that he’s dealing with.

Additionally frustrating, “YOU HAVE NINPO?!”

The turtle, who is likely still unconscious, does not answer.

So Leo stands shakily, turns on his flashlight, and stomps over to the limp body to kick his leg with a reasonable force.

The turtle doesn’t stir. He kicks him a second time. “Oh-ho, we are going to have a talk when you wake up!”

In retrospect, the threat was probably a bad idea. It would only give him more ammunition to stay under. That’s probably why he spent the next eternity sleeping like a dead person. Yep. Indubitably.

He’s might be playing dead, but it’s not good enough.

His stubborn heartbeat gives away the truth.

Leon stays by his side, staring out into the nothing in the distance. He drums his fingers against his legs, letting himself have the moment to breath through the permanent ache in his chest.

After a couple minutes of literally nothing happening, Leo gives into the prodding of his ninpo. He reaches out a hand, finger tips on the turtles arm. He doesn't know what he expects. Nothing happens.

The turtle remains prone and none of the earlier lights reappear. Yet Leo knows that flakes of his own ninpo now rest inside of this turtle.

He can feel them like Donnie's tech can sense the trackers that he so rudely implanted in his family, only Leo's wasn't intentional and probably didn't work that way. His ninpo pulsates warmth at the connection, but it's not real. It's not bred off love or trust or years of growth and loyalty. If anything, he forced it on him.

This could have repercussions. This could be so bad.

But Leo's ninpo feels stronger now. Not powerful or amazing or godly, but stronger. It beams at the connection, humming with a new energy that it's never felt before. He doesn't feel empty.

Selfishly, he realizes, he doesn't regret it.

He pulls his hand away. His ninpo quiets obediently.

The silence rings when he allows himself to settle, drilling relentlessly into his brain. Since there's no one to talk to, he talks to himself, walking his brain through the lyrics of a song that he can't quite place. His fingers drum the beat against the air.

It's some lovesick break-up song that Donnie hates, which is actually a hard accomplishment, so it's a shame that he let the words slip through his fingers. When did that happen? When did he, Leo, get to busy to remember the top ten ways to annoy Donnie?

He should probably know. He knocks his lower palm into his head.

Oh! He snaps triumphantly. That's it! Before Shredder! He became leader and-

And. He ran out of time to focus on things like that. Annoying Raph became a lot easier to fit in his schedule. Way too easy.

It's not supposed to be that easy.

Leo... Can't remember the lyrics anymore. Man.

He should really be writing this down.

He gets out the notes app on his phone and restarts the process.

Even with the light at its lowest setting, the phone is unreasonably bright. His eyes begin burning after a short while. Rocking turns to pacing turns to sitting turns to catching himself when his body tries to pass out. The roller coaster jolt has him back awake in seconds.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, determined to stay awake and keep watch. He owes the turtle that much.

Man. Leon hates debts.

Once he wakes up, completely and totally fine, they can be even.

He finds his head bowing thrice more. During the fourth, his brain registers that his eyes have been closed for several seconds and he has to forcibly pry them open. He picks up his phone from the ground and gets to his feet, shaking his head to wake himself up.

The turtle hasn't moved. He kneels next to him, checking his heartbeat. It's the same. Is that good or bad?

Movement from the entrance.

Leo looks toward it immediately, scanning for the cause. The silence echoes to him. Everything is as motionless as it always is.

Goosebumps rise along his body. He stays put.

A red glow bathes the area right outside.

Leo's sweaty hand goes for his sword.

A hand drops from over the entrance to the platform. Black. Metallic. Claw-like fingers.

He takes it out of his sheath. He watches them pinch into the flesh of the dead Krang creature. It lifts the body out of sight. He can clearly hear each crunch and squelch of something breaking through bones and mass. Nausea swells and his knees shake, but he doesn't dare move from his stance over the unconscious turtle.

The blue of his ninpo sparks, waiting to be called upon. He can't waste it. Not again. He can't risk using it before he needs to. He'll only have so many shots. Maybe Krang will pass over them.

If he knew Leo was there, they'd already be dead.

He holds his breath when all sounds stop.

Something screeches.

It comes from everywhere at once and swallows all sound to stab into Leo's brain as he hits his knees. His blade falls from his hand so he can clamp both hands over his head, putting pressure down in the desperate attempt to muffle it.

It barely makes a dent in the pain. He squints up, barely holding onto consciousness, and watches as claws tear away at the roof.

Before he can process, the claws have shot through the hole and knocked him onto his back. He hits his carapace and the world blots, pain shooting up in waves, red consuming his vision. Krang lifts the head enough to grant him some clarity. He expects the monstrous fury, but he doesn't even look his way, taking in their surroundings.

"Look at that. Still alive."

His eyes return to Leo. He squirms under the weight, wondering if that's going to be the last thing that he hears before this truth becomes a lie. He thrusts his hand outside the claws, and his sword spawns in his hand. Krang's eyes widen, "How-?"

He doesn't let him finish. He escapes his clutches, transporting a few feet away, arm around his ribs. His heart practically stops, as he realizes that the Krang wasn't directing the first statement to him.

He's lifted the turtle from the ground, shell captured between two fingers. Krang looks from him to the unconscious turtle. The suit shakes him carelessly but the turtle doesn't wake. "Ah. Another menace with more tricks.” A smirk forms, slowly revealing sharp teeth. “And where there's one, there's an army waiting to join Krang."

"Put him down." His spine has a million tiny needles in it, but he remains standing, hands tight over his hilt. "Put him down."

"That's the problem with heroes." The Krang turns the turtle over, like a customer inspecting merchandise. Leo can only look between them in badly contained panic. "So determined to save that you won't do what needs to be done. All your determination to put me here, and yet you let him live. Pathetic."

"How did you find us?" Leo's voice crumbles, weak. Krang didn't even check inside. He knew. "How did you know?"

"I went looking." He tilts the suit's head at him, smug. "My brainless snacks have eyes everywhere. Last thing that it saw was a pest and a tool. So I came to collect."

"What do you want with him?" Leo demands, filling in the blanks even as the question leaves his mouth. Tool. "Leave him alone. He won’t even wake up! He’s useless to you!”

“He’ll wake.” He trails a finger along his skull. “The Krang have ways of getting into the minds of our prey.”

Leo thinks of Raph. His hands shake, and his voice hardens, “Yeah, I noticed. What do you want from him? He’s not anything special. He’s a poser whose shell I literally just had to save.”

Just put him down. Please put him down.

“I want what we both want.” Krang eyes glow. “Freedom.”

A laugh escapes, practiced and baffled. Who else thinks this turtle is capable of the impossible? “Are you kidding? He can’t do that!”

"Of course you'd say that." Krang mocks. "Where would you be without tricks and deception?"

"Not here." Leo points out because duh. "If we could just go back, don't you think we would have already?"

"I suppose you'd believe that's all it takes to persuade me." Krang stands to his full height and Leo steps back. "I have eons of experience under my belt. I know all about the unexplained forces that can tax or fuel a lower life form. I've conquered and defeated mounds of sniveling creatures with impossible abilities."

"And yet this teeny turtle beat you at your own game." Leo's heart pounds hard. He needs to push harder. Say whatever he has to so that Krang puts him down. "He's been unconscious for the last ever. He's not getting you out and you're grasping at straws."

"You got lucky. That is all." He snarls as he bends his knees and Leo's heart races as he leers over him. "And once I return to my Brother and Sister, I will slaughter everyone you love for it. Or better yet, send the rest back here to finish you."

He grins, eyes maniac, and before Leo can get a word in, he leaps.

He springs up and through the hole in the roof. The force knocks Leo off his feet, but panic shoots through his systems. His ninpo assists before he even hits the ground. He lands against rocks, looking up as Krang lands on a floating surface.

"HEY!" He shouts after him. "BRING HIM BACK!"

The Krang ignores him, launching them further away as if he'd never spoken at all. Leo tries to follow but he barely gets a few steps before his legs give out. The fire eats away at his ribs and spine, making it hard to get his breath. He lifts his head, vision splitting, as two Kraang merge into one and then none.

Then, he's gone, taking Leo's only hope of survival with him.

He forces himself to his feet. He can't let this happen. He doesn't care if the turtle's crazy or a liar or a hero or a villain. It doesn't matter if he's mean and rude and snide and sad and hurt. He wants to go home as much as Leo does. He asked for Leo's help and he's failing him again. The Krang took him and now he's gone.

The anger burns hotter than any of his injuries.

It's a familiar injustice. The kind that comes when his dad won't hear his side of the story because Raph already gave his admittedly accurate side. The kind that comes from watching Donnie mock his brilliant puns and Mikey break his things without repercussion because he bit his tongue too often and allowed it.

A fury that reminds that, even if it's partly his fault, he doesn't care.

It's his story, his pun, his jacket with paint now on it.

He glares in their direction, furious and desperate and terrified to be left alone, and his hand shoots out. Ninpo surrounds it in a bright circle as he pushes out and closes his fist. He calls it all back, drawing his hand down to his chest. Every ounce that's his.

Every. Single. Bit.

He feels the tug deep within as the heat finds purchase.

The turtle spawns before him, in a sparkling shower of blue and white, and it shocks Leo enough that he steps away.

He falls onto the rocks and Leo snaps to himself.

He practically tackles him, listening to the booming shout that echoes to them. He cannot believe the idiot is still unconscious after all that, but he grabs his sword, looks towards the sound, and spots Krang as he throws himself towards them.

His eyes burn a flaming red and Leo gives him a haughty salute.

FLASH.

The portal swallows them and dumps them back where they started.

It's only a couple feet deeper than they were before, the chucks of metal from the broken roof lying in front of them. Leo drapes himself over the motionless form, watching as the ground cracks when the Krang lands. He roars, once, enraged, and then he charges out of sight. The ground shakes when he launches himself into the abyss of nothingness. Leo listens to him land and take off again.

"Okay," He wheezes as he clings tightly to the thankless turtle that's speckled with his energy. He remains against his plastron, pain swirling his surroundings and swallowing every inch of senses.

His arm slips to the floor. He can't so much as twitch his finger. Relief floods his system anyway. "Now... We're even."

His vision gives out like the ground crumbling outside.

This time, Leo doesn't bother to fight it.

Previous Current Next Arc8

[d4rk-x-w0lf-17]

rise and 2012 crossover fics where 2012!leo finds rise!leo annoying and obnoxious is so boring. i want crossover fics where rise!leo says the stupidest things ever and 2012!leo is trying his hardest not to laugh. i want fics where 2012!leo is protective of rise!leo cuz he doesn't want rise!leo to grow up like him

@brightlotusmoon i'm looking at you 👁️

[angelmichelangelo]

emmy’s 2024 christmas advent fic!

so it’s getting to that time of year again where i’m kicking off my annual christmas advent fic! for those unfamiliar, for the past seven years i’ve posted my own advent of fanfic, starting from december 1st all through to december 25th! it’s just a fun little thing i like to do as i know sometimes the holiday season can be hard or difficult for some, and if putting a bit of fic magic into the world can brighten someone’s day then i’m more than happy to try!

as per tradition, in order to kick this event off, i’m in need of fic prompts! you can send these my way through my ask box (anonymous or otherwise) and all i ask is that they’re one worded prompts :) i like to give myself a bit of challenge on top of writing 25 fics in time for christmas so for example, you could put: “teddy bear” or ��sick fic” or “birthday” — just as long as they’re one worded(ish) and not a paragraph or a full sentence of prompt, i can add it to my list!

it doesn’t necessarily have to be christmas/holiday/winter themed either! whatever you’d like me to try my hand at, send it my way and i’d be more than willing to try!

i’ll be writing tmnt fic so if there’s a specific iteration you’d like for your prompt, just add it next to the prompt. or, leave it up to my own interpretation! whatever floats your boat! i will write for any and all tmnt verses so everything goes! :)

i look forward to doing this every year, with the added bonus that at the end of it, i will be donating £25, £1 for every fic posted, to a chosen charity. if you have any suggestions as to what that sound be, please do also feel free to send me some links and ideas! (i know that £25 may not feel like a lot but its about as much as i can give and its better than nothing)

you can send me as many prompts as your heart desires! i try to kick this off as early as i can so i can accumulate 25 prompts and then find the time to write them so the more the merrier!

for anyone else that wants to play along, feel free to do so! when i have all the prompts, i would be happy to share them with anyone that’s wanting to have a go also! there’s no obligation to finish all the prompts — just a bit of cheerful fun for what isn’t always a cheerful season for everybody.

so please do send in your prompts to my asks, again, you can be anonymous or not and send in one or a hundred (that’d be impressive if you did lol) i’m super excited to get this started!

[imagionationstation]

I have an idea: what would have happened if Donnie got mind controlled instead of Raph in that one scene in Clash Of The Mutanimals?

“That one scene”

See, my first thought was to do an analysis but then I realized that an analysis on a scene that I could very easily rewrite to answer what is very clearly a prompt (and I will accept it as nothing else) would be less fun. And, I mean, you can’t start in the middle of the story.

You gotta flip back a few pages to get the better picture.

So you get two scenes!!

When Donnie wakes up, his thoughts are sluggish.

Everything blends into one another, hazing his world as he brings a hand to his face. He smashes it against skin, trying to wake up his brain. He’s on his knees. He’s on his knees in a- he opens his eyes, giving the room a lost look- a red room?

“…Where… Am I?” He rubs again, frustrated by the lack of compliance, trying to remember how he got here or why there’s a little fluttering sound from somewhere behind him-

Something thuds, quietly. He drops his hand, looking towards it.

His eyes widen. Shredder puts on his helmet.

“Your new home, mutant.” 

Nope, nope, nope, nope to that-

Donnie scrambles to his feet, turning around-

Tiger Claw is there, blade held up to his plastron.

Donnie’s bo finds its way to his hands, knocking it away as he steps back. It’s a long range weapon, awful in close quarters- but now he’s closer to Shredder.

His eyes immediately go up to scan the room, looking for another exit plan-

“Drop the staff.”

Donnie does. Then he panics, going for it-

“Leave it.”

His muscles lock up. He wants to reach for it but he doesn’t. He can’t move. He can’t get so much of a twitch out of his fingers, hand beginning to shake from the strain. He can’t reach it he can’t pick it up why can’t he reach it-

He can’t reach it and Shredder’s behind him- he’sbehindhim- and goosebumps smear down his skin with his presence- it’s not working- so Donnie aborts.

Donnie abandons his staff and goes for the kunai in his belt, spinning around and going for the neck- 

“Stop.”

Donnie stops. He stops the whole motion, dropping any pretense of continuing so he can step back and gasp, “What did you do to me?”

Shredder looks at Stockman, “None of the others had these results.”

“No.” Stockman agrees. Donnie’s head hurts, a dizzying kind of pain as tries to remember how he got here. Who are these others? Where are his brothers? What happened to his brothers? “We had the psychic within the second command.”

Psychic?! April?!

Shredder looks at him. The intense feeling of vulnerability returns under his stare and his eyes dart to the door across the room.

“Come to me.”

Oh no-

Donnie does, pain blossoming with every step that he fights. So he stops fighting, legs stopping him right in front of the horror of many nightmares, and he whispers, “What did you do to me?”

“I changed your alliance.” He responds cooly. “Your loyalties belong to me now.” 

His heart pulsates. Pinprick eyes narrow. “No.”

“Yes.” He leans closer. “Bow to me.”

His muscles lock again, only this time, it’s his intention. He refuses to get down, refuses to bow before another master- no matter how hot the fire in his brain is, no matter how much it hurts- he won’t make him he can’t make him he’s stronger than-

“Bow.” Shredder booms as his voice darkens. “Now.”

The fire explodes, raining down on everything. He wants to scream.

Silently, swiftly, he falls to his knees, head bowed low.

“Good.” Shredder says. “Look at me.” 

He looks up, eyes a soulless white. 

“Grab your weapon.” Shredder releases the blades of his gauntlet as he stands. “And attack me.”

Leo is all too relieved to find Donnie alive.

When Leatherhead breaks through the gate, his younger brother has positioned himself on one of the statues. He isn’t bothered by the crash, continuing to fire one of Tiger Claw’s weapons at Shredder. Admist them, he throws down a smoke bomb.

It lands under his feet, exploding and sending him into his back.

Donnie pounces with Raph and Mikey’s overjoyed cries, “Woah, Donnie!” “Go Dee!” but Leo notices how he lands on the armor, how a gauntlet blade slices against his ankle and he doesn’t even react.

He’s never seen him that- focused before.

That doesn’t matter now, because Donnie has the gun pointed at the flesh of his face and he’s not firing, “Donnie! Do it! End this!”

Donnie doesn’t move or even react to his voice, and their brothers look to Leo as their leader scans for any other threats, anything that might be holding him back.

Raph bursts, “What is he waiting for?!”

Donnie turns, and he steps off, setting the ray in Shredder’s outstretched hand when he rises.

Shredder laughs.

Leo can’t take his eyes off his little brother. 

“Donatello is mine now to control.”

The gate slams shut behind them. Leo’s heart pounds.

“As are your other mutant friends.” 

The mutanimals come out of their respective places behind the statues. Raph’s worried voice calls, “Slash!” 

Slash looks at Raph and he raises his mace. Leo reaches out a hand to the side, a means of comfort and a warning to stay still, as Tiger Claw preens, “No escape for you, reptiles.”

Shredder holds out the weapon to his second-in-command. Donnie pulls out his staff, unsheathing the blade. 

“Donnie?” Mikey asks, a tremor in his voice.

Donnie doesn’t acknowledge it, moving beside Shredder.

“Now.” Shredder announces. “Let us welcome you properly.” 

Leo doesn’t give him the chance. He bolts to the front of the group, launching himself at the monster that stole his little brother.

Shredder doesn’t move.

Donnie does.

He places himself as a boundary between Leo and Shredder, catching his katanas before they can hit. Leo has no choice but to throw himself away, snapping, “Donnie! Back off!” He reorients himself, hitting the ground. “Shredder’s the enemy!” 

“My allegiance does not lie with you.” He responds simply. “Nor does my loyalty.”

Then Donnie’s crossing the distance, whirling his staff and throwing himself at Leo. Leo goes to meet him halfway, determined to knock him off his feet long enough to get through to him, startled by how different every move is.

There’s no hesitation to each blow, no extra care taken to prevent injury or calculation made to get the best outcome. He reacts every time, practically taking off Leo’s head and limbs more than once, only prevented by his quick reaction time. If he’s being perfectly honest with himself, he’s normally one step ahead, but now he can barely keep up. He’s forced to neglect their surroundings to focus on each blow, hoping that he can trust their brothers to handle their own.

Then his katanas are embedded in Donnie’s staff and Donnie’s knee is coming up to catch his chin. He stumbles, realizing too late that he left his blades behind. 

Donnie tears them out and throws them out of reach.

Leo knows he won’t last two seconds unarmed so he puts distance between them, getting to the top of one of the statues. Donnie doesn’t follow, watching from the ground, and Leo uses the breathing room to reach for his brother. “Donnie! This isn’t you! Think about it! You’ve got to break Shredder’s control!” 

“I am thinking clearly.” His little brother’s voice in unnatural, bland and bored in tone. “And I do not align with you anymore.” 

Leo points at the monster watching, baffled. “I’m your brother! That’s the Shredder!”

“I don’t care what you think.” Donnie plants his staff on the ground. “I do not follow you anymore, Leonardo. Accept it.”

“No.” Leo snarls as he throws one of the weapons embedded in the statue’s head, taking the trident with him. “Never.”

Donnie throws the first away, barely able to stop the trident with his bo. Leo presses down hard. Donnie’s expression changes and his eyes narrow, suddenly dropping the protective stance. 

“Woah!” Leo’s blade almost crashes into his forehead, but he catches it before it scrapes skin. They stare at one another, frozen, and Donnie states, “There. A weakness.”

He brings his staff up, knocking the blade away from his face, and then takes off.

Obviously, Leo follows him, and watches as he throws himself into Leatherhead’s and Slash’s battle. He jumps in the way of the mace and Slash hits him without blinking. He goes flying, and Leo screams, “LEATHERHEAD!”

Leatherhead throws him. He reaches his brother, arms around him, taking the combined blow of them both slamming into the gate. Donnie doesn’t hesitate, spinning around to shove the throwing star in his hand into Leo’s shoulder.

Leo catches his wrist, hissing, “Donnie-” 

Donnie elbows him in the gut and takes off. 

He runs towards Rockwell and Raph as the psychic mutant tries to impale their brother with his own sais. Donnie jumps up as they fly through the air. Leo grabs his legs, dragging them back down before they can impale him. 

Donnie swerves for him, staff coming down on his skull as they hit the ground, but Leo releases and rolls. Then he tackles his younger brother before he can try that idiocy again, trapping both arms against the ground, “Donnie! Stop this madness!”

Donnie grits his teeth, each thrashing movement more intense than the last. “No!” 

“Yes!” He doesn’t let up. “You’re his puppet! Can’t you see that?”

“Let me go!”

“Snap out of it!”

“Leo, please!” He begs. “You’re hurting me!”

Leo’s world tilts the wrong way, panic searing straight from his heart and into his brain, apology on the tip of his tongue. But he swallows it because Donnie’s eyes do not match his tone, cold and hard in a way that can never rule or not define his passionate little brother. 

“Are you-” It hits him. “-are you trying to manipulate me?”

Donnie raises an eye ridge, pausing in his struggle. “What took you so long?” 

Leo’s chest burns. So that’s the play? Really? Fine.

“I can’t believe you.” Leo tears himself away, putting distance between them. He turns back to his brother as he spins his staff. “I can’t believe you would do that!”

Donnie moves a few steps. Leo refuses to follow, “You’ve been with Shredder all of five minutes and this is the monster he turns you into?” 

A pause, “I am no different.” 

“You bet you are.” He growls. “I thought better of you. But I should have known. Of course you can’t stop this! You’re not strong enough! I can’t believe you’d disappoint me like this.” 

His stance falters. “What?”

Leo steps towards him, never breaking their gaze. “You heard me. You’re a disappointment, Donatello.” 

The staff slips from his fingers. He pushes, “You want to stay here? By all means! Stay! I won’t waste any energy stopping you.”

There are tears in blank eyes. Leo turns away.

A final nail in the coffin, he shouts. “Have fun with your new clan. Today, you are no longer my brother!”

Leo runs. Donnie gasps, “Leo, wait-!”

He chokes and Leo spins around in an instant.

He’s by his side as he hits his knees, gagging the brainworm onto the ground. Leo stabs it as it squirms, setting his attention on his little brother, hands on shaking shoulders. “Donnie?”

“I’m sorry,” He whimpers, looking up, face streaked with tears. “I’m sorry I’m sorryI’msorryImsorry-” 

“Nonono-“ Leo hugs him, tight, his little brother’s head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I didn’t mean a single word I said- I swear, I didn’t. 

“I couldn’t-“ His breath hitches. “I couldn’t stop-“

“I know.” He says gently. “I know I know- I went too far. I just wanted to snap you out of it and I wanted to get you back. You’re my brother, you never disappointed me, and I’d never leave without you. I wanted you back. I just wanted you back.”

Donnie pulls away, looking him in the eyes, desperation visible, “Really?”

“I promise.” Leo squeezes his arm. “I swear on my life.”

He swallows, breath hitching, brushing at his face. 

Leo gets to his feet. “GUYS! GET THEM UPSET! FEELING SOMETHING SNAPS THEM OUT OF IT!”

“GOOD!” Raph calls back. “RIGHT UP MY ALLEY!”

Leo looks to Donnie. His younger brother exhales softly, brown eyes lingering uncomfortably on the brainworm.

He holds out his hand. Tired eyes look up.

“He’s not the only one.” Leo jokes, lightly. “Why don’t I make it up to you?”

He pulls his little brother to his feet. 

“Oh yeah?”

He smirks. “Help me take down the Shredder?” 

Determination sparks, lighting up his gaze, strengthening his stance. 

“Let’s bash his face in.” 

Leo’s never felt prouder. 

[stillprocrastinatingsorry]

@debb987

Another one for the boys

From this incredible fic

[bangs-coffee-fandoms-unite]

Hello everyone!

I am so excited to share my first work in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fandom with you! While I am a huge fan of the 2003 iteration, I have chosen to set this story in the 2012 iteration, as it fits best with the storyline I have envisioned. But do not worry—if you enjoy this, I will be posting a story set in the 2003 universe later on, so stay tuned!

This story is a loose adaptation of the City Fall arc from the IDW comics, tailored to fit the 2012 cartoon's setting. Here is the link and summary:

Title: Little Dark Age

Summary: After a devastating defeat by the Shredder during the Kraang invasion, Leonardo is captured and subjected to the dark machinations of the witch Kitsune. Bewitched and scarred, Leonardo is made to believe that the Hamato Clan is the architect of his suffering, convinced they are responsible for years of psychological and physical abuse. When Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo return to New York, they are horrified to find their presumed-dead brother now a vengeful and far more powerful adversary as the chunin of the Foot Clan.

Link 🔗: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57918355/chapters/147434158

[dysfunctional-doodle]

I finally put all the 87 turtles in and it is…getting interesting let me tell you

This is from my fic, Too Many Turtles! I posted a new chapter today so check it out if you want!

[possumpilled]

In this chapter: Blinded by rage, Master Splinter makes his way to the Shredder's hideout. -- Yeah, I code 😎 (figured out how to copy and paste a specific chapter URL to my tumblr).