#ImagionationStation’s Ficlets

[imagionationstation]

“Can you listen?”

Raph’s world tilts, the same way it always does when he uses that tone of voice. “What?”

“Can you listen? Just, listen?”

He closes the comic immediately. “If I gotta.”

Mikey enters the room and sits. His head rests against the edge of the bed as Raph puts his feet on the floor. His brother stares at the roof, solemn.

“I think it’s my fault,” His voice doesn’t have the Mikey tint to it. It’s burdened and stiff. He hates it. “That no one likes me.”

Raph’s pinches his arm to stop the impulse to open his mouth.

Mikey’s eyes are distant. He’s faraway, stuck in thoughts that he hardly ever has, in a sluggish moment that makes his movements slow and each word pronounced. “I know I care be weird. And loud. And- and I see them. The looks. From.”

He stops, as if he can’t remember if there was more to that statement. Or maybe he doesn’t want there to be.

Mikey’s supposed to be an open book. And yet, sometimes even he can’t bear to flip his own pages.

“We’re different. I know that. Humans won’t like us. Because we’re... Monsters.” Mutants, he wants to correct, in the same way that he does when Donnie whispers the hateful freak to the mirror.

He digs his fingers into the sheets. Why does he have to watch, time and time again, as it spreads like a plague between them? “And- And not ‘cause we are. We just… It’s just that way for us.”

He looks up. Raph nods, a stiff motion. Not talking. Listening. 

“And I can be different. ‘Cause of my head. And my- my-” He waves vaguely to explain what they both already know. “And it’s not bad. But it can be. Bad. Annoying. And it’s okay. Donnie’s-” Another wave. “It’s not bad. It’s just us. But it’s. For me, it’s like.”

He looks at the ground. “I think. I think if you weren’t my family, I’d be alone.”

Don’t say it- “There’s Leatherhead.” DARN IT- 

“Yeah,” Mikey agrees, soft. Raph exhales, relieved. “Leatherhead’s my best friend.” 

There’s so much defeat. Raph bites his tongue. Mikey mutters, “I don’t know.” 

He waits. Mikey says, “Maybe he shouldn’t be.” 

Raph scoots down to the floor. Mikey doesn’t react. “He’s great. I don’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t. I don’t like thinking about it.”

The lost gaze drifts across the roof. “Sometimes I think I’d be better if I wasn’t me. If I was different. And then I want to change, but then Leo gives me the perfect opportunity for a sneak attack, and then he’s glittery and embarrassed and it’s… Fun. I have fun. But it can also be mean. And make people mad. And I don’t want to change. I don’t want to. But maybe I should.”

He leans on Raph’s shoulder, weighed by defeat. “Raph?”

Raph’s awful at this. He knows that. But he has to say something.

“Don’t know anything about should or shouldn’t. I know you’re my little brother. Don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t. You are. That’s all that matters to me. Which means we’re stuck with each other. You don’t want to change? Don’t.”

He hesitates, scanning his face for any hint that his words are having the right impact on him. “Nobody’s the boss of you but you. World sucks. Humans suck. Some people’ll like you for stupid and some people won’t. Leatherhead’s been around this long. Don’t see him running off any time soon.”

Mikey smiles, briefly. It falls.

Raph follows his gaze to the poster.

He mutters, “Thank, Raphie.”

Raph swallows the bubbling worry and says, “Sure, Mike.” 

They stay there until Mikey gains the strength to retreat to his room.

[bringingourrealitys2life]

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[imagionationstation]

Mismatched Twins AU - Take One

There are some things Donnie knows that he’d be better off not knowing. Such as, how the act of flesh coming together is equally as painful as the sensation of it getting torn apart.

It was like the first time Leo did stitches, but magnified by one million and all over his body. His limbs are still flickering as he gasps in the air that he’d momentarily spent an eternity without, fingers clawing into the rock under his fingertips to stop his swaying body from tilting over. His word is a whoozy mess of blacks, grays, and clouds when he tries to look up.

It doesn’t take his genius to conclude that he’s not in New York.

His eyes sting, lightning pains traveling down limbs as the bones form back before his eyes. He wants to pass out. He wants his brothers to appear out of nowhere to catch him when he falls, letting him loosen his grip on consciousness so he doesn’t have to feel or see the way red muscle is covered by green skin. 

But he’s not in New York, which means they won’t be coming.

He can’t let his guard down.

Not until he’s sure his surroundings are safe.

And definitely not until he’s able to find a way home.

It’s what his Sensei would say. It’s what his brothers would do.

Donnie bends down, forehead against the coarse rock.

He gives himself a couple extra minutes to summon his bearings. The trembling calms under the pricking sensation left by the utter agony as it shifts out of existence. It feels like everything is “asleep,” blood flow finding it’s way back through his body, waking up systems that shouldn’t be able to work after getting erased from a reality.

Then he’s as he was before, fine and whole, with the rough surface under his limbs poking into his flesh. Brown pads cover his body and as he cautiously raises himself up, he sees that his straps have returned as well. He checks his belt and finds everything where it should be. He clutches his t-phone even though he has no signal.

Slowly, hesitantly, he touches his face.

His palm does not press against fabric. He lets out his breath, ragged and uncertain, the echo of his own screams taunting him. He can still picture every second, see her demented smirk, hear her apology before she tore him down to nothing. 

She tore him down.

So why would she build him back up? 

The beginnings of a ringing explosion has him unfurling from his safe position, looking up to the sky. He’s been in his fair share, and it sounds like that detonation range is bound to be massive, as well as destructive. His racing heart tells him that he’s glad to be awake, because otherwise he’d probably never wake back up. 

The sky is fully lit, a sphere of colors brightening the gray atmosphere in a way that is both spectacular and obviously highly unnatural for this environment. It’s blinding to stare directly at, so he raises a hand in front of his eyes to cut off some of the glare. 

Donnie can hear the reaching echoes of hard metal cracking under the weight of heat and pressure. The force of it would probably take out all of New York in a single blow. So unless it’s a mechanical sun coming apart, he’s pretty sure that he’s witnessing the blast of some kind of nuclear alien weaponry. It’s absolutely gorgeous and insanely brutal and he lifts his t-phone to snap a picture.

Then he spots the debris shooting away from the centre of the explosion, and decides that he should move.

Evacuation of the landing site, it is. 

He gets to his feet, half expecting his legs to give out underneath him, but they carry him as he sprints. His instincts are good because a large piece of something lands where he’d just been, smoke billowing into the air. 

He reaches a ledge, surface curved in an unnatural- or, maybe completely naturally for this dead habitat- way.  He turns to go back.

Then he sees the ginormous, smoking ball of black headed towards him. Living his number one priority, he pulls his grapple from his belt, aims it at a rock and fires.

He tugs once it catches and then pulls himself up.

He reaches the curve off the top, panting, and looks up. 

“yaAAH-” A spinning projectile appears out of nowhere and tries to take off his skull, but he brings his head into his shell, almost losing his balance as it whooshes over him. 

He watches it, as the blur of silver and blue hits the ground and scrapes away from him. It’s a sword, plain as day with a hilt covered in collected dust. He moves toward it as blue markings glow faintly, reflecting in curious brown eyes, and he makes the choice to grab it for the road. If not for any other reason, then shiny. 

The thunderous crash of matter meeting rock consumes his surroundings, quaking the ground underneath his feet as he spins to face the behemoth of a sphere. It drowns out the vocal roar of fury that reverberates with as much destructive power, warning him to get as far away as possible in a similar frequency.

He looks back, startled as he spots the tall creature throwing out it’s arms, and then faces the wreckage. The rocks crumble and bow back underneath the sphere, and if that is a shell of a radioactive alien bomb, he’d much rather be going in the opposite direction. Between the shadow of a figure over his shoulder and potential alien contamination, he thinks he’s more comfortable facing the anger. 

An easy decision made, he darts for the leen, black figure that’s dotted in bright red. He’ll just go around. Ninja stealth, guy won’t even notice him. 

It stalks towards the rock, lumbering steps swaying the body. It’s mouth doesn’t move but he can hear the bare inflictions of a voice from where he is, fist raised before it’s slammed down. He slows, momentarily, as he wonders why the creature is taunting the rock, before a limp form comes into view. It’s pale green with a plastron that cracks under the force of the blows, not even half the size of its assailant. The blue mask catches his attention and he changes direction without realizing. 

The turtle is unmoving except for violent flinches as the creature unleashes a whiplash of pain, slamming down on the shell and face of the defenseless form over and over and over. 

Donnie doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t think anything is worth that kind of abuse. He tosses the sword, grabs his bo, and reaches in his belt.

“YOU WRETCHED- LITTLE-“

Donnie crosses the distance, tosses his smoke bombs, and swings. 

“PE-!” 

Fists are combined as one and raised in the air, brought down as a smoke bomb slams into his face and shoulder. They explode upon impact and cover the body, sending the creature into a fit of coughs, stumbling back as arms wave to get rid of the purple cloud.

The admittedly intimating creature only seems to get bigger as Donnie gets closer, so he comes to a stop a fair distance away when it bellows, “WHO DARES-!?”

It whirls, locking its gaze on him, and he waves.

Either his presence or his action makes it pause, a blatant confusion on it’s disgusted expression, and Donnie takes in who he’s facing.

Evidently the face where a face should be is for decoration. It’s actually a purplish creature in the chest that’s dawning a metallic suit and beating another life form to its heart’s content. It reminds him of a Kraang with an insane growth spurt and a thirst for violence.

He points to the sky, keeping its attention on him. “That wasn’t either of you, was it? ‘Cause I don’t think that’ll help the environment any.” He looks around, at the endless expanse of rocks. “Not that there’s much hope for this place.” 

The creature looks to the turtle at its feet and then back over to him, as if the notion that there might be two mutant turtles in existence was too much for it to comprehend. He’s in for a big surprise then…

“There are MORE of you?!” It moves, suddenly, slamming a metallic foot onto the turtle’s chest. It pins him against the rock, drawing a weak cry. “HOW!? How did you hide this from ME?! It’s IMPOSSIBLE! I saw his memories- I know EVERYTHING about your PATHETIC FAMI-!”

Donnie moves before he finishes his first line of questioning, launching himself at the metallic leg. He kicks, but that does not budge the grip like he intended, and he bounces back off, flipping onto his hands and then to his feet. The action turns it’s glare on him, snarling, and he laughs nervously, “That… Didn’t work.”

“YOU!” He looks to the explosion, and then back to Donnie. “How did you get here?”

“Um.” Donnie doesn’t know how to answer that. He climbed a ledge? There wasn’t exactly a fence keeping him out. “Like it’s hard?”

The turtle squints at him and the creature looks supremely ticked off. Now if only he could separate them…

Donnie whirls his staff into a defensive position, determined to get the cruel creature away from the poor mutant. “Also. Pretty sure that’s none of your business.” 

“Then I will make it my business.” He tears the points of his feet from the rock- ah, that’s what prevented his momentum from shifting the metal. Duly noted- and he sneers at the turtle that falls onto its plastron, leaning on it forearms, breathing heavily. “Then I’ll come back to deal with you.” 

The turtle doesn’t answer, and Donnie feels the rocks shake as the creature stomps towards him. The surface clearly isn’t stable, something that he makes note of as he puts a few steps between them. This isn’t going to end well.

Already died once today. Why not make it a second time? 

“Now then.” It leers, smirking down at him. “Let’s see your failed attempts at heroics before I teach you true strength.”

“See, I could do that.” He muses because that’s a very likely outcome of how this fight is about to go. He pops his blade. “But I’m not really big on failure or pain, so I’d like to give winning a try. Or at least surviving. What do you say?”

The suit swings and Donnie raises his staff, the pieces coming apart in his hands as it hits his plastron. He stumbles back, yelping when it grabs his leg. It’s a lot faster than he originally anticipated and it hoists him up in the air, very likely about to give him a harsh introduction the ground. “OKAY! THAT’S A NO!” 

Donnie reacts first, face to face with the sneering creature, blade meeting purple flesh.

It squelches upon impact and the mass of yuck screeches in pain, throwing him and allowing him to roll to his feet. 

One of Sensei’s very first surface lessons. 

Don’t fight the armor. Fight the man inside. 

Or, alien, in specific cases. 

He darts away and grabs the sword from the ground, hiding it behind his shell. He glances to the turtle that has risen to his feet, relying heavily on the rock for support, staring at him instead of running like any sane turtle would do in this situation. 

Donnie looks to the furious alien as it places a hand over where the suit’s heart definitely is not and roars, “YOU DARE WOUND ME?!” 

“You… Did try to wound me first.” He points out helpfully.

The creature charges. He throws a smoke bomb as it lurches for him, barely avoiding the claws. He crosses the distance while it swipes blindly at the smoke, overcome by fury as Donnie drops next to the startled turtle. 

“Blue and blue.” He slips the hilt between the fingers not clutching something, and offers, “I’m going to assume this is yours.” 

“You can’t beat him.” The turtle warns, staring at him with wide eyes as he bears his weigh on shaking legs. Donnie exhales in exasperation. Tell me something I don’t know. 

But, if this turtle has a family somewhere in this wasteland, Donnie might as well make sure that he gets home to them. 

The genius stands. “I’m only going to be able to distract him for so long. Get moving, don’t look back.”

He throws a smoke bomb far from the turtle’s position. When the creature looks towards it, Donnie is standing in the mist, smirking with a bravo that he does not feel. “I’m not a big fan of bullies. They’re all bark and no bite.” He points a finger in the air. “Lived with one all my life. I would know.”

“YOU WANT TO SEE BITE?!” 

Donnie feels the blow before he realizes that hunk of metal even moved, an intense momentum brought against his shell in a blast of fire. It sends him flying, tumbling and rolling on the ground, only stopping because the creature appears in front of him, snatching him up to throw him into a tall rock formation.

“That-” His breath quivers, dizzily watching the creature split between one robot and two. “That was not fun. Oooh. Wow. Yep.” 

“You will tell me how you arrived.” The creature snarls, finally only one armor. “Or I will pry the information from your brain myself.”

“Whether or not you do the torturing, information would be pried from me since I don’t particularly want-”

The metal fist swings down and Donnie rolls forward, jabbing into flesh seconds before metal fingers stab into his arm and wrenches it back out. It rips the blade from his hand, crumbling the wood between its fingers, metal bent when it hits the ground. Pain burns up Donnie’s arm and scarlet trickles down skin as the pinprick eyes lock on him, sharp teeth visible as Donnie kicks out, hitting metal chest and failing to get him to release.

“You pests never tire of your weakness. Filth does not deserve to rule with Krang, nor the sweet relief of death.” Donnie freezes, taking in the inflection in the name, watching as a wide grin locks him with deadly intent. “Let us show you how it feels to suffer instead.”

Donnie hits the ground. Once, twice, three times- his shoulder takes the force of the blow, and he’s sure it’s fractured by the time that Krang decides to forcefully return him the ground. His world spins, pain blossoming along his arm, and he knows that he only has one chance for survival. 

“Oh please.” He forces, voice cracking with nerves. Please work. Please work. “Save the big bad routine for someone who cares.”

Krang slams a fist down, hard, and he hears the crack under his carapace. Lightning burns up his chest, igniting agony where metal met protective scutes, and it’s getting a little hard to breathe.

He almost regrets not choosing the alien bomb. Almost.

Donnie summons his inner Raph, rolls his eyes, and croaks, “You hit like a whimp.”

The Krang roars, fists combined and brought down in one brutal blow. Donnie rolls at the last second, the armor slamming the ground beneath him, splitting open the cracks that Donnie’s carapace had already made on the unsteady surface.

His grappling hook comes out and he swings as the ground opens beneath them and gravity drags the Krang down.

It’s deep, and if he goes down, there’s no way either of them are getting back up. He grabs onto a piece of the edge that hasn’t fallen in yet, painstakingly dragging himself up even as fire eats away at his shoulder and blood smears on rocks. 

He cuts his leg but keeps going, dragging himself across the surface, deflating onto a large, cool piece of metal. He keeps his arm around it, grapple in hand, catching his breath and staring into the chasm of the Krang’s own making. 

Something crumbles within it as the Krang roars.

Then, a blur of black is leaping onto the edge of the surface, dust billowing out with him. He lands, walking forward even as the ground crumbles behind him. Donnie scrambles back upright, hand on his shoulder as horror leaps from his racing heart and into his throat.

He retreats as the Kraang covers the space. “You tried to defeat Krang with a hole. How desperate. How utterly, irredeemably, weak.” 

Donnie shakes his head in disbelief as the Kraang grabs the rock tainted in blood and raises it above his head. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” 

“Actually-!” Donnie is tackled, thrown onto the ground as his world flashes blue. He looks up in shock, to a blue mask faced away, grinning with bloodstained teeth.

They’re suddenly several feet away, but the Krang is catching up fast. “Would you look at the time! Places to be!” 

“GET BACK HERE-!”

“Rain check on the brutal death!” The hand trembles as it tightens around the hilt. The turtle’s red stripes glow in tune with the sword, every mark on metal and skin lit with a power that seems to explode outward from the blade. “Adiós!” 

Donnie is swallowed by blue. 

Current Next

[imagionationstation]

{Are you awake?}

Leo looks at the text with burning eyes.

He really shouldn’t be, but he was. So instead of staring blankly at the roof like he’d been doing since being rudely awakened by nothing, he pulls himself out of bed to go track down his younger brother who probably blew something up and is in need of assistance cleaning up the mess. Or hiding it.

Except. He’s not in the lab. Hmm.

Leo heads towards his bedroom, pushing open the door.

Donnie sits prone on his bed, staring at his t-phone.

Leo yawns, “Donnie?”

Donnie looks at him, eyes glassy, tears tracking his face.

Leo’s stomach drops into his chest. Donnie lifts an arm.

The older brother doesn’t hesitate, moving to his side to initiate the hug, letting him sink into it. He does, but with stiff, sluggish movements. His breath hitches against him. His arms hang loose at his sides, t-phone clutched in his trembling hand.

All he says is, “What is wrong with me?”

Leo doesn’t think about it. “Nothing.”

“I can’t do this.” Donnie whispers, “I can’t figure it out.”

Leo hesitates, “Figure what out?”

“Me.” He whimpers. “Something’s wrong. I can’t fix it.”

“Donnie-”

“Don’t. Please.” Moisture taps Leo’s shoulder. “I’m so tired.”

So Leo holds him tighter, if only so the cracks can’t break him.

And Donnie crumbles, safe until he’s ready to try again.

[imagionationstation]

Casted Shine - 2012 Fanfiction

Explanation: Inspiration request from this post.

Photo: Photo belongs to @claaaaaaaaaar!

Story Summary: Mikey needs a lot of things. And his family does his best to provide. But sometimes, he has to work to get what he wants. He doesn’t mind. He’s an expert at it by now. Besides, the cast will come off eventually.

Main Relationship(s): Mikey & Donnie

Character(s): Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie, Icecream Kitty

Words: 1,972

“Hey.”

Mikey keeps his voice soft, but friendly, trying not to spook him while also hoping for a reaction.

Donnie doesn't move. His upper body lies against the island surface. 

He keeps his cheek pressed against his arm, staring at the cast.

Raph and Leo's names are in his view. Mikey's is on the other side, along with a couple doodles, including Splinter and Ice Cream Kitty.

"You hungry?" He asks, because this is the first time that he'd found him in the kitchen. He isn’t sure if that means something or if Donnie is willing to share. It can’t hurt to ask though.

Normally, he's in the pit or his bedroom. Less often, he'll take cover in the dojo. Once they found him in the ShellRaiser. Not going anywhere. Just sitting in the corner, turning a screwdriver over in his hands.

It's been days since he last built anything with his tools.

"Donnie." He insists when his question goes unanswered. "Want me to make something?"

A subtle head shake. Mikey nods in acceptance, pulling out his t-phone. {donnie's in the kitchen}

"Leo thought you were watching TV." {doing what?}

"You sure you don't want a snack?" {nothing}

"Or drink, or somethin'?" {let me know if you need me}

Leo was up all day keeping the nightmares at bay. Mikey will not be doing that.

"That's a great idea." Mikey confirms with himself. "Let's do some pizzas."

Donnie looks up, frowning. He waves the concern away, “Pizzas are totally healthy! And filling! What does Sensei know?”

His older brother’s face deadpans. Mikey winks. “Trust me.”

Then he greets his precious kitty, removing her bowl from the freezer. "Watch her for me."

He sets her in front of Donnie and she immediately takes to sniffing his face, rubbing herself against his beak with a low purr. Mikey takes out the pizzas as Donnie lifts his head to wipe off the icecream from his face. She pushes herself into his lifted hand.

He obliges her as Mikey preheats the oven and watches out of the corner of his eye. His eyes are soft, but the bags under them are heavy. 

He lets them bond until the oven beeps and he can put the pizzas in. Setting the timer, he goes over to them and checks how much ice cream has pooled into liquid. It's a lot faster than usual, but they did spend a while playing earlier that day. She must not have had time to refreeze yet. 

"And now we wait." Mikey announces as he scoops up his kitty to give her a big smooch on the cheek. She mews happily as he licks his lips, "Love you too! Now go eat some icecubes and take a cat nap before you melt."

A happily meow goodbye as Mikey shuts the freezer. He goes over to the counter and picks up the cardboard container.

"Bro-bro." He walks to his other side, taking an island seat in his view. Donnie licks the ice cream from his fingers. "How's the arm. Does it hurt?"

Donnie flexes it and winces. He nods, slumping further in the seat.

"Aw, man." Mikey gets out his t-phone, shooting Raph a text. "Sorry we can’t get you the stronger stuff, dude."

His older brother looks at him. Mikey dumps out the container. "You know what we CAN do?"

Donnie stops a few rolling markers. Mikey flips the yellow one between his fingers before presenting it proudly. "We can make your night a little bit sunnier."

His older brother tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. He can almost hear the snark.

"Great idea." Mikey proclaims as he takes a careful hold of his hand to keep him still. "Bright ol' sun it is!"

Donnie rolls his eyes. Mikey gets right to work, keeping it simple since Raph stole the majority of the artistic talent in the family, and letting his mind wander to every subject that wouldn't stress his brainy brother out.

April getting an A on her test. Not April celebrating by breaking into the base that held him prisoner. Casey's latest skills at his hockey game. Not the way that same stick was used to trash the bots. Raph covering himself in sewage while trying to fill the sewer canon; the look on his face when Mikey managed to get a picture. Not the look in his eyes when he found the list of everything that Stockman was planning on doing to their brother. Leo's frantic search for some missing Space heroes memorabilia. Not the way his hands shook when he announced that they'd make the flyman pay. 

He spills everything that Donnie may not know because he has no voice to ask.

And avoids anything that Donnie doesn’t know because they pretend not to hear.

Donnie watches him. And Donnie smiles. It’s sad, but it’s progress.

And just as Mikey is running out of molehills to make mountains out of, two things happen.

Raph walks into the room, and the timer goes off.

“Raph!” He proclaims, shoving the marker into his hand. “Take over! My pizzas are calling me!”

Raph gives him a tired look and Mikey pretends not to notice the bruise on his shoulder. “You said it was important.”

“It is!” Mikey insists, very importantly. He hurries over to grab an oven mitt. “You’re an artist and you’re not arting! It’s criminal!”

“Uh-huh.” Raph walks over to the island. Donnie brings his arm to his chest, sheepish.

Mikey listens to the sound of markers uncapping, “Give it here.”

The pizzas come out and he sets them on the stove to cool. With a chef’s kiss to the air, he goes over to the fridge to grab a salad. Partly because Donnie isn’t actually going to eat unless he pairs it with something healthy. And partly because salad is a delicious side for pizza. He glances at Donnie’s face every now and then. 

He’s watching Raph draw. Not smiling. Not frowning. Just watching. 

His grumpy brother doesn’t say anything, more comfortable in the silence when he’s working.

Or maybe Raph’s still uncomfortable with the one-sided nature, all these nights later. 

“Where’s my blue cheese?!” Mikey demands, purely because blue cheese ranch is delicious and this destruction of his kitchen is not something he will stand for. “Who did it?!”

Raph and Donnie look at him and then each other. Mikey scowls.

Raph shrugs, “That stuff is disgusting.”

Donnie nods, knowingly.

“You heathens!” He gasps. “It was half full!”

“I didn’t do anything to it.” Raph grumbles. “Just get out the normal ranch.”

Quickly, Donnie lifts his hand to finger spell. “Light.” 

“EVIL!!” Mikey firmly spells back, even as he collects it from the fridge.

Raph looks between them and quickly signs, “Shut up, idiot.”

As Mikey gasps in offense and Donnie snorts, their hothead resumes his work. “You can’t learn the alphabet but you’ll learn all the mean words?!”

Raph responds with a word that has Mikey instinctively checking the doorway. Donnie shakes his head with a breathless laugh, signing, “Mikey knew.”

“Donnie’s right.” Raph adds in confidently. “Can’t know what I said unless you learned the word. And since I know it’s not in the notebook…”

“I was curious.” Mikey huffs. “I wasn’t gonna use it.”

Donnie adds something, but after the S, Mikey doesn’t understand the rest. He looks at Raph but their brother is looking at the cast, not his hands. “All I got was Splinter.” He admits sheepishly. “Sorry, bro.”

Donnie repeats it. Mikey shrugs, “It’s not the speed. Just… Don’t know it.”

The life in his eyes from the conversation fades as he nods reluctantly. Mikey tries, “You want me to get the notebook? Or a paper?”

It’s a long shot, but Donnie only shakes his head. Raph momentarily looks up before he locks his gaze back on the cast. Mikey turns to dump some ranch on the salad, thinking hard. 

Lifting the bowl, he walks over to Raph and roughly bangs it down beside him. His older brother’s head shoots up, startled, as Mikey innocently peeks over his shoulder. “Why a manhole cover?”

“Felt like it.” Raph grumbles, filling the area around the strangely detailed cover with pleasing colors. “Not asking for critiques.”

“Hmm. Okay, stalling’s over!” He brings the salad back to the counter and then goes to collect Donnie. Taking him by the good arm, he earns a surprised look from his taller brother and a frown from the marker-capping brother. “Pizza time!”

Mikey lets him make his own plate. And then he plucks it from his hand.

“Leo?” Donnie signs as Mikey adds pizza to his plate because salad is a side item. Raph leans against the counter, biting into a slice. “Think he’s still sleeping.”

Mikey hands him back his plate. His older brother takes it, avoiding his eyes.

He confidently pulls out his t-phone and dials. Donnie looks at him as it rings, uncertain as he puts it up to his mouth and calls, “Get your pizza before it goes cold!” before hanging up.

Donnie forcefully signs, “Why?!”

Better translated as: “He was sleeping what is wrong with you?!”

“Meal time.” Mikey says cheekily. “Had to let him know.” 

Donnie glares at him. Raph heads into the main room. Mikey goes to get some fun ingredients.

Leo comes in as he heaps them on the counter. He rubs his eye, muttering, “Just in time.”

“Mornin’ sleepyhead!” Mikey grins. “Get some good zzz’s?” 

Donnie awkwardly moves out of Leo’s way as he heads for the pizza. “More or less.”

Leo grabs a slice and Mikey grabs his wrist. His older brother sends him a look. He releases to pass a quickly sign of, “Sad.” before nodding pointedly at their brother. Leo looks to Donnie, who’s staring blankly down at his pizza.

He nods, goes back to loading his plate, and says, “How’s it going, Dee?”

His head shoots up. He looks to Leo and then Mikey. Mikey passes a thumbs up.

He gets a moment to collect himself before Leo turns, doing a flash of motions that Mikey barely catches. Their leader always did like his ninja hand signals.

Donnie responds with an hesitant, “I know.” He looks at his cast before he finger spells, “But…” 

He stops, but Mikey isn’t sure if that means he doesn’t know what to sign or he doesn’t know what to say.

Leo doesn’t let him think on it.

This time, Mikey catches words like “not” and “okay.” 

He really needs to get more practice in. He doesn’t want to ask Leo for the notebook in front of Donnie, because then Leo will ask why he needs it again when he already had it for two nights, and if Mikey admits how frustrating it is to learn, Donnie will feel bad and go back to not talking at all. And then where will they be? Too many steps backward, that’s where.

He’ll just study harder when it’s his turn again.

Donnie shifts, uncomfortable. Mikey tears his gaze from where it strayed to the kitchen cabinet. 

Then, he signs a soft, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Leo smiles and carries the plate over, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes by. “I’ll be in my room.”

Then their eldest is gone and Mikey is free to go wild. He grins smugly at Donnie, shaking the bag of jellybeans. “Wanna help?”

His older brother raises an eye ridge. He tries to make the shakes a little more tantalizing, “It’ll be fuuuun!”

Donnie walks over to the take the bag. Mikey eagerly grabs the mushrooms. 

“Now to make some real pizzas.”

Mikey beams. With a lighthearted eye roll, Donnie smiles back.

It’s a little less sad than before, and it’s all Mikey wants.

[imagionationstation]

“I’m always the bad guy.”

A trashcan topples over, splattering garbage across the pavement.

“Always the jerk. Always the problem.”

The trash is kicked up and caught in wind.

“Just ‘cause I’m mad doesn’t mean I’m stupid! Why do I have to apologize when they started it! I told him and then I was right and somehow I’m still the bad guy! I’m always the bad guy!”

The wind brings dark clouds and goosebumps with it.

“Act like they care and then get huffy with me. You said I could have a say, Leo! You lying, bossy, good-for-nothing LIAR-!”

Lightning streaks and thunder crashes.

“What’s the point?” The trash swirls along the alleyway. “They’re not gonna listen. No one ever listens.”

The t-phone rings. He doesn’t look. He simply throws it.

“You wanna yell at me?! Huh?! Tell me how AWFUL I AM?!” It cracks against the wall. “TOO BAD! SEE HOW IT FEELS!”

Sharp panting is drowned by winds. A furious scream. More wind.

“Why can’t it be someone ELSE’S fault for once? Why me! Bet they’re glad I’m gone. Bet their day’s so much better!”

The rain catches the garbage as it goes up, weighing it to the ground.

“They’d be better off without me! I don’t need them! I don’t need anyone!”

The rain travels down green skin, hiding the previous dampness.

“I don’t need anyone.”

He repeats the statement, one final time, when they find him.

His brother crouches to his level, umbrella over both their heads, and says, “The storm’s only going to get worse.”

He holds out his hand. Raph looks away.

“Raph,” Leo says, their brothers behind him. “Let’s go.”

A flying can knocks into his side. His shoulders slump. He nods.

An umbrella goes to Raph’s extended hand.

He shivers when the wind brushes past. He’s soaked, but shielded.

“We’ll talk at the lair.” Donnie promises.

“When you’re dry.” Mikey chimes in.

“Fine,” Raph mutters, looking to the sky.

Water knocks him in the face. The trash smacks his legs.

Leo gently takes his arm, and Raph lets his brothers lead him home.

[imagionationstation]

[Self-Destruct Initiated.]

The small, innocent device explodes in his hand.

Sharp heat bites at his skin as he glares at the remnants. He drops them carelessly, watching them hit the floor, fingers flicking the rest from his palm.

His brothers stare at him.

He stands, swift, and walks towards the turnstiles.

No one calls after him. He doesn’t miss the exchange of looks.

The bitter, angry, ugly emotion that demanded he blow up the device that took his brother months to build drags him across the city. He doesn’t have a place in mind, but he can’t stand staying in the sight of prying eyes that are likely already plotting an interrogation.

And, if he knows Raph, an intervention.

Leo steps falter, light pants dissipating in frigid air.

He goes to the parapet. He wants to turn away, but he doesn’t.

He stares out to where the full moon graces the sky, and then down to the windows that glow just as bright. He sits on the edge, resigning himself to the new placement.

A car speeds down the street, filled with whooping teens.

Leo scrubs at his eyes, careful with his breathing. He times it, evenly.

He wonders if he’s allowed to cry when he’s the problem.

He hates that he doesn’t know. He knows that it’d be too embarrassing to ask. He thinks it would be easier to pretend that the hurt doesn’t exist anymore, gone with the messages on his t-phone.

The ShellRaiser stops in the street. Turns into the alleyway.

His brothers’ voices filter up to him.

Doesn’t matter anymore, Leo tells himself. There’s no need to run.

Then Raph comes up to the rooftop and his tired voice is carved with a protective edge as he snaps, “What’s Karai doing now?”

The familiar anger swells and dies in a moment, tightening his chest and slumping his shoulders. The knee-jerk notion builds up on his tongue, “It’s not her. It’s me,” as it always does to face the age-old accusation. He looks at the decor in the room across the street.

He doesn’t say anything.

Why doesn’t he say anything?

“Shut up, Raph.” Donnie says, eloquent as ever. He comes to sit by Leo, their heels resting against the wall. He stares directly at him and the eldest waits for him to call him out on the blatant destruction.

“How you doing?”

“Bad,” He decides, voice weaker than intended. Mikey wraps his arms around him from behind, hiding his face in his shoulder. Leo puts a hand on his arm and squeezes, unsure for whose benefit.

“What’d she say to you?”

“Raph,” Donnie hisses. He can feel them glaring at one another.

“I’m not acting like a friend.” Leo says, reminding himself that it doesn’t matter. It’s his fault. It’s his fault. “I’m asking to much of her. The Foot are her priority. I’m ruining her ability to lead.”

“Glad to know what’s important to her highness-”

“I miss her.” Leo interrupts. “I talk to her all the time and I miss her.”

Mikey squeezes tighter. Donnie mutters, “I know.”

He hears Raph sit down. He watches the moon and wonders if she can see it. He glances across the street, where a sword glints innocently in its stand. He can remember her excited grin as she invited him along, and the frown on her face when he denied her.

“She’s not alone anymore.” Donnie admits lowly. “You were there when she needed it. Now, she has other people to lean on. People who won’t say what she doesn’t want to hear.”

“She’s already out the door.” Raph grumbles. “Why are you holding it open?”

“So she’ll come back in.” Leo looks at the moon as it bathes them, pretending his voice doesn’t crack so the tears don’t fall. “Isn’t that what a good friend’s supposed to do?”

Donnie doesn’t answer. Raph stands and returns to pacing the roof.

Mikey holds on when he lets go and tells him that he’ll be okay.

Leo looks at the moon and wonders if she’s crying too.

[imagionationstation]

This is simply my characterisation of 2k12 Hamato Donatello, so feel free to add up your thoughts and opinions :]

This idea just randomly popped out in my head; how stresful it is for Donnie to be still identified as the 'babies of the clan' yet had to bear the title of an older brother. He loves his job, his rensponsibility— ofc, there's no denying that he is absolutely thrilled at being needed/wanted, but there hasn't been much talk of his family dynamic.

First off, I'd like to point out how the show treated both Mikey and Donnie like a complimentary, or an extension to the rivalry between Leonardo and Raphael. They mainly focuses on what the two eldest has going on and had the two youngest thrown into the predicament sometime later. Even so, the show clearly emphasis on how the two eldest had connections— brotherhood only one could wish to have. How if one goes down, the other immediately follow suit.

I imagine the Donnie would be so anxiety-riddled, especially after S1 and so on (or even earlier. That boy been going through some stuff). He has seen how Splinter's death absolutely shattered Leonardo, his oldest brother, who is bound to be the next head of the Hamato clan— just as he witnessed how Raphael has the tendency to drive himself to self-annihilation if anything were to happen to the oldest. He's there. He saw how Leo exhibit textbook signs of psychosis, just as he knew that Raph might as well be suicidal. He knew.

If Leo were to go down, then Raph will go down with him— and Donnie would have to pick up the mantle. He had to be there for Mikey who had, too, lost his father; and with how things are going, his two oldest brothers too. Leaving his younger brother, his only younger brother, would be cruel, no?

I wish the show would also give us content on how Leo and Raph's dynamics affect the two youngest; how many times do you think they stayed up late making sure the two oldests are still there? How do you think they cope with the loss of their father, while simultaneously having to deal with their two oldests?

Do you think that, at one point, Donnie said, "We lost our father too, not just you— and we need our oldest brothers too... I need my oldest brothers too...".

Alright, thank you~

HOLY MOTHER OF MUTATIONS

YOU CANNOT THROW THIS ON ME WHILE I’M LISTENING TO UNSAID EMILY

Silent days, mysteries and mistakes Who’d be the first to break? I guess we’re alike that way…

FREAKING SONG WHY

🤣 Yes, I am blaming you for something completely out of your control because I didn’t pause my music as I opened this. How dare you make me experience emotions and why are these brothers are SO WHOLESOME and YOU DESCRIBE THEM SO WELL LIKE HOW

“I don’t usually feel things, but this one broke through.”

This was absolutely the best thank you

I have many thoughts. Click at your own risk.

I dunno if the idea of being a “baby of the clan” would stress him out as much as the idea of being the head of the clan would. As much as I can argue that he can act as leader in times of trial as the show has proven (see New Girl In Town/Mousers Attack), he’s very much a follower. When he did try a one-man mission (see Operation Break Out), he almost ended up getting himself captured and only escaped because his team tracked him down.

I don’t see Mikey&Donnie as an extension. I see them as their own people, a separate group, their own enthusiastic team.

The reason that they don’t get the spotlight like some people seem to want is because it’s not in their personalities. They don’t have the experience or responsibility of leading/making impromptu decisions like Leo&Raph have. As older brothers in general, giving the final say and having to make the right choices in everything is something you have to learn to adapt to. Mikey&Donnie are used to being led, and that throws off their game when they have to lead themselves.

They are willing and have potential to do so, but that doesn’t mean they can (see Mousers Attack).

One of my favorite thing about the dynamic is how realistic it is. When Mikey&Donnie are worried/scared and need reassurance, they look to Raph&Leo. When something needs judgement, they look to Leo&Raph for the a-okay. When something’s gone wrong and they need an immediate solution, they look to Leo&Raph.

Oftentimes Leo makes the final call, but he’s the eldest and team leader, so it’s his right.

Leo&Raph only look to Donnie if it’s a tech/science problem. If it’s something that they are aware is out of their expertise and don’t know how to handle. Yes, it’s a hard and stressful job, but the reality is that if Donnie messes up, his older brothers will be there to pick up his slack, through fists and plans and retreats.

No eldest sibling is going to lean on the younger ones. Leo only leans on Raph as much as he does because Raph doesn’t give him a choice in the matter. He’s always there- and he’ll always be there- and that’s an unspoken promise that they’re used to. Raph is going to shove himself into Leo’s personal bubble anyway, so Leo lets him in as much as their prides will allow.

One of my favorite parts of the show is that Raph calls Leo, “brother” and Mikey and Donnie, “little brother”. Leo is not his older brother. He is simply his brother, his equal. They are on the same page, and he will not be treated as anything but his equal.

They are the protecters. They can’t lean on their “baby brothers”, so they wholeheartedly lean on each other.

I… Don’t support the psychosis as canon. I will headcanon it the same way I headcanon Leo being unable to use kitchen appliances (despite the fact he has been seen making food in the show), but I don’t see it as canon. It’s a fun idea, but not one I choose to believe.

A favorite thing about the show that I noticed is what happens after Leo gets knocked into a coma. Donnie’s struggle through multiple episodes in the first two seasons to be in charge (questions Leo’s choices, calls Leo out, fights Leo’s decisions, insists his own plans, and even runs off on his own) either softens significantly or disappears completely.

Yk why?

BECAUSE HE BLAMES HIMSELF FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE INVASION AND CARRIES THAT WEIGHT OF ‘KILLING’ HIS FATHER AND BROTHER WITH HIM FOR THREE AGONIZING MONTHS!

The way he sees it: Leo told him what they needed to do to keep everyone safe and he fought him. He got injured, Leo was in a coma, their dad was possibly dead in the sewers, their safe place, and they’d been kicked far from their only home because he insisted upon a robot that failed!

He messed up big time and that traumatized him into submission.

So imagine how terrifying it must be to realize that his family is killable. That there won’t always be a back button. That their father is gone and the chances of Splinter Jr. following his lead and doing something insane, and Raph throwing himself headfirst into the situation in the hopes of getting Leo out, and both of them getting themselves killed permanently isn’t actually all that far-fetched.

And Mikey’s not stupid. He can see the amount of times Leo’s thrown himself into trouble. He knows how far Raph is willing to go to keep Leo safe.

So, YEAH, especially since they know that Leo has no hesitations to solo missions (see Attack of Mega Shredder and Broken Foot) and Raph has a tendency to let his anger guide him towards vengeance, there are so many ways they could lose them. So many reasons that they might blink in the future and find out that it’s just the two of them now.

This would absolutely be something that haunts them at night.

For a while, at least, because I do notice that Leo isn’t quite so Lemme go *off* myself for the good of man in season five. There could be many reasons for this inside canon, but I believe that they did have a conversation about what his actions could do to them.

I believe something happens, maybe they almost lose them and Donnie gets fed up, and a much needed conversation happens.

“That is IT! I’m tired of you two! I’m not going to sit back and watch you kill yourselves! Try thinking about someone else for once! You’re not the only ones who lost him! You’re not the only ones hurting! And your lives are no more expandable than his was!”

“You never think before you act! You could have died! You both almost died! And then what?! You’re gone! You’re gone and we have to bury two more bodies next to Splinter’s! And then we have to live with that! We have to live without you! We have to fight without you! And I CAN’T DO THAT!”

“SHUT UP! You can’t possibly ‘get it’ or you wouldn’t be spending every night taunting death and expecting us to stand by and let it happen! This isn’t a game! This is real life! And NEITHER of you are ANY MORE invincible than we are!”

“I WON’T calm down because YOU’RE NOT GETTING IT! You’re not LISTENING! How would you feel if I threw myself in Kraang fire at every change I got?! Or Mikey?! Yes, Splinter’s gone! Yeah, it hurts and it sucks and maybe this just seems easier to you both because, heck, we’re all just going to die anyway so might as well choose a time and place- I AM MAKING A POINT LET ME TALK!”

“I am being COMPLETELY reasonable! How would you feel if you have to leave the lair every mission wondering if two of us will even come home? I may have wanted to lead once, but I don’t want that anymore! I don’t WANT to take your place anymore than you WANTED to take Splinter’s! Why would I want that?! Why would you make me take that?!”

“You are! Every single mission that you play chicken with death! I can’t take your place- I can’t be sensei! We need you! Maybe more than you need us because clearly you don’t care enough to stick around- but I- we- we don’t want t-to remember heroes or martyrs. We- we just want to keep our brothers. We want- we can’t- I-I can’t-”

“We need you. Why- why can’t that be enough for you to stay?”

Cause the light just keeps leaving my eyes And I don’t know where it goes But the touch from the warmth of your hand And I feel all over again

GOSH DARN IT SAVE ME

THIS PLAYLIST WILL BE MY END

I’M FEELING THINGS AGAIN

All of this is to say- I love your perspective on this. I’m so very grateful to you for sharing because this is one of those things that crosses my mind sometimes, but I don’t give enough consideration too. These new emotions and scenes in my brain are much appreciated. Thank you, anon 💞

[imagionationstation]

Hiya!

You can call me IS or NinjaNeko! Major ninja turtles fan! I adore 2012 turtles, but my interests lie with all the movies and series! LOVED Mutant Mayhem! Can’t wait for more!!

My favorite turtle depends on the brothers in question, but it’s usually between Raph and Donnie! My favorite sibling bond is usually Leo&Donnie, but, again, it depends! Ask whatever you like- I love chatting turtles!

DISCLAIMER: I am TERRIBLE at responding to things, but I love asks! I swear! I promise that every single one is appreciated, and I definitely intend on getting around to it!

I do a lot here nowadays, so let me fill you in!

For common tags to organize posts, check the tags below!

For a better understanding of the categories:

I’m most popular for my analyses. I tend to throw out a few rants/interpretations/descriptions on unnoticed or misunderstood aspects of turtle iterations, mainly for the 2012 gang. These guys are extremely misunderstood creatures (See what I see TMNT).

I also do Incorrect TMNT Quotes for the fandom (incorrect tmnt quotes), Tumblr Turtle story clips (ImagionationStation’s Ficlets), I make Mini Music Videos (IS TMNT MMV), post some 2012 show moments and randomly compile a full episode from a single turtle’s POV (Show Clips), and I intend to document thoughts about other shows when I have the time to watch (Turtle Comparison Notes).

I have a tag for asks (IS Asks) and a tag specifically for AUs that get dropped off in my Ask box (AU Asks). Got an AU idea that you’d like explored? As long as it’s in my comfort zone, let’s do so together!

Speaking of AUs:

Once Upon A 2012Donnie Au: Masterpost

Feral Raphie AU Blog Link: Intro

Other places to find me:

I’m on A03 and Wattpad!

I touch base on YouTube every now and then~

I share a sideblog for AUs and the like: @bringingourrealitys2life

If I see a comic scene that makes my brain explode with emotions, I’m going to want to find it again. I collect them here. Feel free to browse and see if I stumble on any that aren’t wildly popular or have yet to become so: @strictlyturtlecomics

Quick Sidenote!

I understand that the turtles have their flaws. I acknowledge that I have my flaws. I do not need you to yell these facts at me.

I reserve the right to block haters that hate for the sake of hating. If you are not willing to chat negatives without passive aggressive behavior or an open mind, I will block without hesitation.

Thanks for stopping by and have a wonderful turtleful life! 💚💚

[imagionationstation]

Why He Plays - 2012TMNT Drabblish

Leo’s never experienced a slowed moment. Not really.

He’s never witness the seconds inch along in hours. He’s never felt time stretch out in the heat of battle. He’s never even been able to rewatch a horror like it was slowed to a fourth its speed. Every nightmare play-by-play went by in the same blur that spins reality.

Those slowed moments on tv were meant to dramatize. Leo wished it could happen. A single minute stretched out into several so he can analyze every millisecond of a battle?

It sounds amazing.

Instead, he has to move faster than time, using each second even as they fly by at impossible speeds. He doesn’t have a chance to see if the Foot soldier that he just shoved off the edge was human. He can’t spare a thought to wonder if the katana that he threw actually made its mark. The outside world has no effect on him.

Everything in his peripheral is meaningless, blurs of seconds and moments and things that aren’t meant to be documented.

He jumps over the railing, swings from a rafter, and kicks Razhar hard enough to send him screaming off the platform.

Leo doesn’t check to see what happens after the mutant falls. He barely hears the thud as he lands, skidding over metal, almost slipping off the edge himself. He jolts towards the tank. Glowing green liquid shines back at him as he throws his body forwards.

His motion is frantic enough that he almost topples in, but he locks his stance and clasps at the trembling green arms.

He yanks with all the adrenaline coursing through his blood, pulling up the brother whose sweaty grip had slipped. They trip backward when Leo tugs too aggressively, and he hits his carapace, getting his breath as he rolls over on his side, desperate eyes taking in the brother that they almost lost.

Leo won’t be able to clearly recall this string of events in an hour. Everything, from the image of Razhar holding his younger brother over mutagen to the feeling of his brother’s trembling limbs holding on for dear life, will be nothing more than a blur.

There won’t be any single instance to pick apart or dissect in the future. It was all no more important than a blink. A flash of memory that amounts only to a mixed emotion of terror and determination that he deals with every night.

What he will remember- hours, weeks, months later- is how it felt to wrap his arms around the brother who is safe and whole and himself. He will remember the panting voice that wheezes a thanks, and the weight surrendered into his steady embrace. He will remember the way a familiar life breathes in his arms, only because he managed to hear a soft cry in the mist of raging battle.

Time has never given him the luxury of slowing down, so he’s learned to be quicker than it. It’s fast and furious and steals away any chance of thought or recollection in the swiftly approaching future.

Leo doesn’t care. Time has never played fair, so neither has he.

He used to take score, back when the practice runs ended in losses of bruised skin and chipped shells. Now, he plays for something a little different. Something a lot more important.

Leo presses his beak against the side of his head and finally exhales, squeezing lightly enough to be noted, warmth under his fingertips.

And it’s always, in a moment like this, one that he will actually recall with crystal clarity, that Leo remembers why he plays.

“Yeah. Anytime.”

[imagionationstation]

One Last Time - 2012TMNT Drabblish

So I was scrolling through Tumblr and came across a headcanons list that named a sleep-like headcanon for each turtle. Leo’s involved being unable to sleep without a weighted blanket (misses turtle piles, I bet <;/3) and Donnie’s listed something about sleeping well on his own but eventually ending up in Leo’s room when he has nightmares (always manages to sneak back out before Leo wakes up tho. Keep his dignity intact). 

I went look for them again to reread and make sure my memory was holding true, but after scrolling to the point that my device almost crashed and searching #tmntheadcanons with every possible description that I can think off- I gave up the search. 

If you recognize these headcanons as your own- I surrender the ownership to you! I’m just using them for fluff because my brain won’t leave me alone.

Donnie jolts upright with a choked scream. 

He falls back onto the surface below him, something definitely not as concrete as he remembered. Heart pounding, breaths quick, a cold sweat covering every inch of him- he rolls over and grips the sheet over the mattress, fingers digging into the elastic surface in a desperate attempt to ground himself. He’s home. He’s in his room. He’s safe. He’s safe. He safe. 

He can still hear the gravely laugh. It’s only in his head, he knows that, and he repeats this mantra to block the overlapping voices- He’s home he’s safe “Do it now!” He’s safe he’s safe “I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do…” HE’S HOME HE’S SAFE- and squeezes his eyes shut to avoid looking around and risk seeing even the tiniest glint of a blade. 

He’s knows there’s nothing there. He knows he won’t see anything. He knows. He’s safe. He’s safe. He’s safe. 

After what feels like hours, the fears begins to lessen its hold and his fingers loosen over the sheets, dipping into a light doze that eases his heartbeat because he’s home he’s safe he’s safe safe he’s…

“We’re gonna see what makes you TICK!”

He’s on the floor before he realizes that he’s jumped off the bed in a blind panic. He scrambles away from the hotel bed that would bear his crude remains and out the first exit that presents itself, slamming the door shut and scanning the permitter-

This is the lair. He’s in the lair. He turns, trying to regain his breath. That’s his room. He’s home. 

A soft, frustrated whine escapes as he leans his head on the door. He’s exhausted beyond belief and the terror programmed in his brain wouldn’t leave him alone. It had been three days- three days!- and he still can’t bring himself to sleep longer than a few minutes. It takes longer than that to calm himself back down. He can’t calm down. Why can’t he calm down?

It doesn’t make since. There’s something about his bed that isn’t comfortable anymore. Something about lying there that doesn’t feel safe. He’s not safe. 

But he is. He is. He’s safe. He’s home. He’s home so he’s safe. 

His body weighs a million pounds as he digs in the belt he forgot to take off and pulls out his t-phone. He glances at the time. They all settled down barely half an hour ago. Is that even enough time to enter REM sleep twice? Is his sleep-deprived mind hallucinating? 

That’s just what he needs. 

His hand tightens around the phone. This isn’t fair. It’s over. Everything’s fine. He’s safe! 

He just wants to sleep. 

He drags himself off the door and takes hold of the handle. He knows he should head inside and try again, but he’s been trying and it’s not working. It’s flawed and pointless and he’s tired and he doesn’t know what else to do and- and- 

His eyes are burning and watering in a frustrating mix. He lifts a hand to scrub at them, letting loose a weak puff of air, eyes unconsciously trailing to his brother’s door. Instinct kicks in and he’s taken a step before rationality follow suit. 

No! 

No, he swore that was the last time. 

He can’t start this again. He’s too old for this. 

He’s practically an adult! He- he just needs- 

His hand closes around a doorknob, but it’s not his own. He takes a steadying breath. 

Just- just one more time. This is the last one. Last time. This one. 

It’s not a bit deal, right? Leo doesn’t notice. No one knows. He-

“Do it now!”

He wrenches the door open and staggers in, fighting to breath. He refuses to look behind him because he’s not there not there no one is there-

Leo stirs and rolls over. Donnie freezes guiltily, expecting him to sense his presence and check up on the room’s intruder, but he settles, breathing evenly. He knows he should leave. He knows he should just get out and go to his own bed in his own room and stop acting like a spineless whimp- 

He steps forward. Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink- just do it. Do it. Just- 

ALARM. ALARM ALARM ALARM- 

Memory kick in hardcore and Donnie scrambles to unlock his t-phone. He turn on the alarm to wake him at least an hour before Leo normally wakes up, setting it on vibrate to give him plenty of time to sneak out unnoticed. He clutches it in shaky hands, glancing back at his brother. 

Last time- last time- don’t overthink it- don’t think don’t think don’t- 

Donnie doesn’t know how the brother that prides himself on mastering his senses never notices when the distribution of the weighted blankets that he leans on almost every night changes. Yet, he simply doesn’t, and Donnie thanks his lucky stars for this. 

Donnie lays down, but immediately feels like there are eyes on him, boring into the back of his skull. He left the door open. Goosebumps prickle and spread, but he refuses to look back, biting down on his lower lip when a whimper tries to escape.

He gives in, snatching a weighted blanket to drag over himself and then hugging the t-phone to his chest, waiting for his pounding heart to settle. He tries to stay as small as possible to not invade his older brother’s space. It’s shameful. He’s too old for this. Way too old. Why is he even in here? 

He should go.

He doesn’t move. 

The adrenaline rush doesn’t last long as the triumph of being unnoticed sinks in. The silence is only broken by the steady breathing of his older brother and he stares at the back of his shell as his eyes flicker, becoming harder and harder to keep open.

Then Leo rolls over- hardly unexpected, he leans heavily on those blankets- and an arm drops over the blanket on him. Donnie shrinks a bit, worried he’s going to feel the difference and awaken, but a firm grip subconsciously urges him close. 

Donnie can breath again. The cold in his bones is replaced with an impossibly familiar warmth and the even breaths above are so much better than his mantra. He shudders as the rest of the fear oozes out, pressing as close as he dares to the pillar of safety. He rests his forehead on his plastron, feeling each patterned beat of his heart.

When a yawn startles him to reality, he pulls away, settling on the mattress to avoid taking pillow space. The exhaustion is impossible to ignore and he doesn’t have to say what his body and instincts willingly accept. He’s not alone, but that’s okay. That’s perfect.

He’s home. He’s home and he’s here. He’s home and Leo’s here so… so he’s… sss..

Leo sighs. His not-so-sneaky ball of brother is lost within minutes and he stealthily adjusts the blanket so it doesn’t risk coming loose, just in case the shivers that he felt were partly from the cold, even though Leo knows why he’s receiving an afternoon visit. 

“I blew it. I led him right into a trap.”

“Hey. We’re a team and we cover each other’s mistakes. We’ll get them back.”

“Then we better move. Whatever he wants Don and Gecko for, it’s not good…” 

Donnie never did tell them what The Don’s plans where.

Leo’s sure he will in time, but whatever happened before they could get to him is clearly at the forefront of his thoughts. It’s weighing heavily on their brainy bro, preventing him from resting or relaxing, and that’s how Leo knew that this ‘visit’ was coming. It was really only a matter of waiting.

Donnie nuzzles into the bedding beneath him, leaning on the t-phone between his hands and plastron. Leo smiles fondly, fingers curling around his pillow as he watches the admittedly cute subconscious approval of his bed. He doesn’t remember when this started.

Thinking back to their days in turtles piles, Leo wonders if the two of them never really stopped. He rubs the younger turtle’s shell, deeming him asleep enough not to awaken from the movement.

He needs the rest.

Besides, Donnie would be mortified if he knew that Leo knew.

He’d probably stop coming at all, which is exactly why the leader doesn’t say a word. His younger brother prefers to pull away from the rest of them when bad things happen. He gets lost in his head and tries to process things on his own- but even geniuses need help sometimes, and Leo’s alway willing to give whatever help he can. It’s his responsibility.

…And maybe, deep down, he’s a little selfish. He doesn’t know what to call this. A routine? A habit? There has to be a title for it, to describe the reason why he got so worried those first two nights when Donnie didn’t come. Second-guessing if he’d even show up this time. Flicking in and out of sleep as he wonders if maybe the older brother wasn’t needed as much as the leader anymore. 

But he’s here. 

So doesn’t that say something? 

He’s here, right in Leo’s reach, safe and alive and home.

Leo tucks him a bit closer, feeling tension still in his shoulders, and mutters a line as familiar as the secret that the other doesn’t realize they share. “You’re safe, Dee. You’re home. I’m here.”

Donnie presses into Leo’s plastron again, something he often does during these nights, perhaps finding the firm surface calming somehow. He churrs, something distant and content and so very weak, but Leo hears it all the same.

The tight knot of worry falls undone. He’s able to relax then, protectively clutching something so much better than a shaped pile of weighted fabrics.

Donnie will wake up in a few hours and be unaware that Leo watches him leave, satisfied to have chased off the few nightmares that day. Neither brother will say a word as the evening passes and day closes in, wondering if that was the last time.

It’s hard, really, to determine a last time when they can’t recall a first.

[imagionationstation]

No Good Reason - TMNT Drabblish

Can be paired in the same group as This previous Ficlette.

He doesn't know how it happened.

He knew he shouldn't have gotten up without permission, but Leo had said he was free to move about as he pleased. He seemed like he held a higher place in their chain of command, so Donnie took him at his word. He had no reason not to. Every one of them had earned his trust in one way or another. He knew he'd done nothing to deserve theirs, so that made the moment that ceramic slipped from his fingers all the more petrifying. 

The mug broke upon impact and the delicate shattering swallowed reality and drowned out the thump of his carapace against the cabinet. The following silence rang with the taunting echo of his wrongdoing, only interrupted with the sound of ragged breathing.

Then his consequence arrives. 

Leonardo slips through the curtain, their brothers close behind. Leo's gaze finds the brown shards, Mikey's finds him, and Raph's takes in the whole mess in one judgemental scan. Donnie blinks quickly, ridding himself of the liquid terror, willing his body to rise from the corner and accept the coming punishment. 

"Donnie, what-" "Are you-" "Dee, why’d you-"

Mikey is the first to move, and a full-body flinch snaps through the pale frame, arms jerking to his chest as he sinks lower to the ground. His foot presses down and shock jolts up his spine with the aftermath of pain, flooding his mind with the reminder of what comes with mistakes. 

Electricity jarring through flesh- shackles cutting into wrists- high pitch sirens drilling into his brain until he can hear it everywhere-

A half-strangled sob escapes as he pushes as far back from them as he can. They are all tense, clearly uncertain how to approach the pathetic bundle that can’t take his punishment like he should, allowing his broken pleas to hinder the quiet. “Didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to, I swear, I swear, I didn’t, I wasn’t, was good, was trying, was-was-!” 

"Donnie..." 

There's a clipped edge to the leader's tone that confirms that he must be mad. He's in so much trouble, and he knows he deserves whatever retribution comes his way, but he doesn’t want to know what that’s going to be. It was so nice here- so familiar, so confusing, so safe- and now he’s gone ahead and ruined everything in one stupid instance. He only wanted a drink- why couldn’t he just stay put? Why didn’t he trust his gut and simply do as he was told?!

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, am, I am!”

“Woah, hey-”

“Bro, we’re not mad-”

“Yeah, it’s okay!”

Of course, they weren’t mad. That’s why satisfaction came with punishments- ugly, malice tones that chided for disrespectful behavior and insisted that he be good. Good good good- he was! He tried so hard to be! 

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry am am sorry good sorry tried good sorry-!” 

He didn’t want this nice dream of gentle touches and loving words to be tainted with deserved punishments and a buried ache that follows his every step. He doesn’t want to know what kind of horrors they’ll inflict now that he’s crossed a line that was better left avoided- broken something that wasn’t his. 

“Sorry sorry sorry sorRY SORRY SORRY SORRY-”

He doesn’t realize he’s hiding his face until pain is clawing into both his arms. He doesn’t dare look up to see the cause, sobs breaking free as the pain digs deeper into flesh. There’s shouting from everywhere at once, but then a strong grip is trying to pry his arms apart- but he doesn’t want to see- he doesn’t want to know- he doesn’t want this imprinted on his mind, mixed and merging with the other terrors that haunt his sleep. 

“NO NO NONONO- PLEASE PLEASE SORRY GOOD I’LL BE GOOD NO PLEASE SORRY SORRY SORRY-!”

The slam of something hitting the ground snaps his mouth shut. A whine overlaps the muffled voices in his background as the forceful presences recede. He leans further into the corner between cabinets and curls in tighter, shivering and sobbing into the only safety that he can ever find. 

He doesn’t know how much later the new presence arrives, but he’s suddenly aware of a gentle touch brushing along the top of his head. It keeps moving at a repetitive pace, stroking away the sweat that beads down his neck. The stabbing pain against his arms slowly loses it’s intensity until it’s just a faint outline of what was, and he hiccups as he lifts his head, looking to the source of comfort. 

“My son.” His father’s eyes are soft in worry as he removes his hand. “There you are.” 

He whimpers, keeping refuge within his huddle. His father’s head tilts, hands folded on his lap. “Are you with me?”

His eyes dart behind him, to the eyes peeking in through the curtain. They disappear the minute that he spots them. He understands why they don’t dare stick around when punishments are due. A shudder crawls down his spine.

“I saw what happen to my mug. That was you?” The terrified gaze locks back to the calm face as he gasps, “Didn’t mean to- didn’t- sorry sorry-”

“Apology accepted.” 

He blinks and the tears track their predecessors. “Y-you-?”

“I forgive you.” He says it like it’s the simpliest thing in the universe- but Donnie doesn’t understand. “But- but I- b-bad- punish-“ 

“This does not call for a punishment of any sort.” His father interrupts firmly. “Not from me, not from your brothers, and certainly not from yourself.”

“But-“

“Material possessions are replaceable. You are not. Killing your spirit is not worth the weigh of a million intact mugs.”

Donnie still doesn’t understand, but he takes him at his word. His father reaches out to lead his arms away from his chest, gently pulling him upright. Donnie looks at the bloody tears in the skin, and under his nails, slowly putting two and two together. 

They hadn’t hurt him. He had hurt him. 

He searches sympathetic eyes and earns a brief nod. Splinter turns away. “Leonardo, the first aid, please.” 

The curtain is brushed to the side, revealing two forms behind the one entering. Leo collects the requested box and stops near them, copying their father’s kneeling pose and looking between them anxiously. His father stands, leading Donnie to follow his example, and he yelps when his foot touches the ground. His father pauses, and then he has a brother tucking himself under his arm, removing any weight off his foot.

“Think he stepped on a piece.” Raph mutters as he watches Mikey scoot a stool up to the sink. He leads Donnie over, assisting him in sitting down, bringing his arms over the appliance as their father approaches with an open bottle. 

“This will sting. Not because we intend to hurt, or punish, but because we want to help. I will not pour if you request otherwise, but the wound should be cleaned. May I proceed?” 

Donnie looks to the blue-eyed turtles with their attention on the first aid kit, the father who waits patiently for his answer, and the brother who squeezes his hand when he takes the moment of hesitation.

He sniffles. “Okay.” 

He chooses to trust them.

They’ve given no reason for him not too. 

[imagionationstation]

I’ve seen a few AUs now where the baby turtles where like, actual baby turtle sized or at least palm sized, so I wanted to know; how would your ‘12 Leo react to a baby Donnie who could fit in the palm of his hand? (I know the ‘12 turtles were a little closer to actual toddler sized, but just imagine)

*squints at you and wonders how much you know about my “In Which” activities on A03*

Anyway. That- is a very loaded question.

So let’s keep imagining.

Imagine discovering this little turt. Imagine him being scared and confused. Imagine him desperately clinging to your attempts to comfort him, despite him not truly knowing who you are.

Imagine if he was completely untouched by harm, and every time he leaned against you, it was like he was trusting his whole body and soul into your care. Every time he smiled or giggled, it was like that little piece of happiness was reserved for you alone in ways that you could never hope to deserve. Every time that he cries, he looks so helpless and heartbroken that all you can do is frantically search for a way to make it better.

Now.

Imagine if this tiny, precious green gremlin of a creature could fit in a single hand. Imagine watching him getting stuck on his carapace and trying to roll over, only to fail over and over. Imagine realizing just how tiny and dependent he is. Imagine that ever time he shifts in your arms, you remember that if he fell, he’s so small that his shell hitting the ground might crack it. Imagine watching him try to crawl and realizing that anything could very easily crush him.

You’re a powerful ninja that can break his arm simply by holding him too tightly. He’s fragile, so fragile that any everything around you is a potential danger that could hurt him.

Imagine if every instinct in your being is constantly on edge and screaming- protect- protect- PROTECT- PROTECT- PROTECT-

Saying this would disrupt things would be an extreme understatement. Forget any kind of self-care/training/patrols, this kid wouldn’t be able to take his eye of lil’ Dee for a second. It would be almost obsessive, the way he can’t stand the thought of putting him down, much less handing him off to anyone else. As long as lil’ Dee is in reach, he’s safe.

Leo will make sure of it.

“Hey, Leo?”

The brother in question doesn’t look up from where his gaze is trained on the braced form of their tiny brother, who is busy trying to figure out how to eat the teddy bear that is several inches taller than him. The leader holds the toy as he lays propped in the crook of his other arm, and Donnie consents to chewing on the fingerless hand, furry arms clasped in six fingers that don’t quite understand how to release yet.

Mikey steps forward and drops on the other side of the couch, repeating his name for the tenth time. “Earth to Leo!”

With Mikey’s insistent voice next to him and hard to miss, he starts and glances to the side. “What?”

Used to his random space-outs by now, Mikey reaches out a finger to curl around the teddy bear’s arm, putting very little force into prying it from Donnie’s mouth. Donnie kicks his legs and growls, playful and determined, unconsciously locking his jaw as tiny fingers dig into the fur. Leo flinches at the sudden movement, but other than shooting him a wary side-eye, says nothing.

But maybe that’s because Mikey had yet to stop talking. “So we talked about it and April says that she’s cool to help take Donnie tonight. I know you don’t want anyone else messing with him, but it’ll only be a few hours. And he likes me and he likes her and we all talked about it, and Raph and Casey’s going to be doing Vigilante stuff far away from here and I know what you’re thinking, but we-”

“Wait, wait, wait, stop.” Leo mutters as he shakes his head, worn-out gaze moving to train on Mikey. “What’s happening tonight?”

Leaving no room for argument, Mikey raises a finger to the sky and then pokes his plastron. “You. Are sleeping.”

“I… Already sleep.” Leo argues anyway, already disengaging from the conversation to let go of the teddy, returning his attention to the turt. The furry head covers the small plastron, stuffed body in Leo’s lap, and Donnie releases his jaw, looking curiously at it.

“I haven’t seen you sleep once since Donnie got small.” Mikey argues as Leo sets a finger on Donnie’s side, preventing him from being able to roll around when he squirms.

“I never said I did it a lot.” Leo mutters reluctantly.

“How about yesterday? How many hours? Six?”

“Mikey…”

“Five? Four? Three?”

“I know my limits.”

“Tell me you at least got an hour.”

A heavy sigh as his shoulders slump, and he somehow seems more tired than before. “I don’t know, Mikey. It’s not like I’m counting.”

“And that’s going to change as soon as April gets here.” Leo looks up as if just queuing into their plans, and Mikey reiterates. “She’ll take Dee, you’ll set an alarm, and go to sleep. If anything happens, which it won’t, I’ll-”

“No!” Leo snaps, both turtles look equally startled by his proclamation. His eyes harden suddenly. “No, Mikey, I’m fine. Seriously. Leave it alone. I’ve got him.”

“Dude, you’re barely eating and you’re not sleeping.” Mikey argues firmly. “We talked about it and we think-“

“Thank you for making plans for me behind my back, but I’m fine.”

The sharpness of Leo’s tone can slice like his katanas. It only further proves how tired he is, as normally he would understand their concern rather than jump to the conclusion that they were working against him. He’d be annoyed, rather than angry.

Mikey stands his ground. “You’re tired.”

“I’ll survive being tired until Bishop’s team finishes the cure!”

“We don’t know how much longer that’ll take!”

“I don’t see why that matters!”

“That’s because your brain’s mush cause you’re tired!”

Donnie’s face scrunches with uncertainty as he looks between them, and Leo catches onto his unease, taking the forgotten bear and flinging it at his brother. Mikey catches it before it can hit him square in the face and Leo gently cups Donnie in his hand, standing up and stating, “If I wanted to sleep, I would sleep. So back off.”

“Leo-”

Leo’s already leaving. “Not up for debate!”

“Leo!”

Mikey stands up and waves his arms in a vent of frustration at the turned shell, but Leo ignores him, heading for the bedroom and slamming the door behind.

“You’re kidding!”

Mikey’s hushed gasp draws April’s attention from her studies, closing the laptop to set it to the side and joining him in the hallway. She stops by Leo’s door, peeking over his shoulder curiously.

From the light spilling in, she can see Leo curled up on the floor, his side leaning against a pillow to keep him from rolling left. His left arm hangs over it, hand slack over a tiny body like a shield, and Donnie cuddles into the blanket nest underneath him. The only form awake is Chompy, sitting near the nest like a little guard, tail tapping the floor as he blinks sleepily at the both of them.

“Chompy. Really?” Mikey whines, completely aghast. “Chompy?”

“At least he’s sleeping?” April offers off-handedly, trying to pretend she’s not equally as upset to be robbed of a chance to play with the hand-size turtle infant. “That’s something?”

“Yeah.” Mikey admits with a sigh. “Guess he really was tired if we haven’t woken him. And Chompy’s a pretty good alarm system…”

She places a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “We’ll try again another time.”

He groans playfully, and then grabs hold of her hand, tugging her arm back the way she came. “Fiiiine. But we got all evening free and someone’s gotta watch Chris Bradford reruns with me!”

“Mikey.” She laughs as she plants her feet. “I have an essay-”

“Aprriiiiilll!”

“Shhhh!” She glances into the room as Chompy chirps. “Alright, alright. But I’ll have to multitask.”

“Deal!” Mikey hurries into the main room, and April turns to grab the door knob. She watches the tense hand over Donnie’s shell relax again, a sigh leaving his lips as the area quiets, and she wishes them and the watchful alien a soft, “Sweet dreams.”

Chompy settles to sleep as the door shuts, and April heads to the pit.

“So, how many times have you seen this episode?”

“Only seven!”

“Only seven, huh?”

[imagionationstation]

Tell Me What You Want - TMNT Drabblish

POV: A greatest virtue is used against a brother. Trauma is hard. Recovery is harder.

“Wasting time, can’t waste-“ 

“You’ve been resting-“ 

“I’m fine. I can work! I ca- I-I need too-“ 

“No, Donnie, you don’t-“

“Like shell, you’re fine-“ 

“I need to- I need-“ Their panicked brother freezes up, breath caught in his throat as he finally stopped fighting Mikey’s entrapping hug. He sends his older brothers pleading looks, a sheen of tears threatening to fall. “What do I need? What do I do?” 

“No one here’s going to make you do anything-“ 

“Would you get it through your thick skull-“ 

“Not useless! I’m good! I can!” 

“Donnie-”

“Come on, Don!”  

“Please! Please- I’ll listen! I’m listening! I-I can do it! Please-” 

Raph’s patience snaps. “But you’re NOT listening!” 

Donnie clamps his mouth shut in pure horror, and Leo spins towards the brother radiating fury. “Raphael!” 

“But he’s not!” Raph snarls, gesturing roughly at their younger brothers. “He never does!” 

Donnie flinches away from him and clutches Mikey tighter, breaths escaping in sharp gasps. “-Sorrysorrysorrysorry better do better sorry sorry-” 

“Raph. Clear your head.” Raph shoots Leo a dark look and then stomps out of the room, leaving the messed-up argument behind.

Leo turns back to their hyperventilating brother, stepping forward and reaching out a hand, purposely softening his tone, “Donnie…” 

A sob breaks free; the tears make their escape. “-no, pleasepleaseplease- listen, I’ll listen! Better- better, learning- don’t hurt me- I’m sorry-!” 

“Donnie, no one’s going to hurt you.” Mikey swears as he nuzzles against his plastron, trying to keep their hysterical brother grounded in the moment. “We just wanna help.” 

“Help, help- I help. I help.” Donnie begs desperately, voice choked. “I can. I can.” 

“We know.” Leo whispers as he keeps his hands at his sides. “We know, little brother. And we can help too. Like how we helped get you away from those tests, and the ones hurting you. Do you remember that? Do you remember where you are?” 

“I…” His eyes dart over his bedroom. “H-Home?” 

“Yeah.” Leo soothes as he slowly approaches the bed. “You’re home. Because we helped you. Do you know why we did that?” 

Watery eyes scan his. “H-had too?” 

“No.” Leo lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Because we wanted too. We wanted to help you. No one made us. We chose to. You know why we chose to?”

“Be-Because-” Donnie blinks away his tears, looking towards Mikey as he tried to recall the words from the many conversations before this one.

His little brother smiles up at him, and a shaky arm closes protectively over the smaller carapace, unconsciously bracing himself for the nonexistent consequences of a wrong answer. “Because we’re brothers?” 

“Exactly.” Leo’s smile is equally as warm and he squeezes affectionately. “And you don’t have to do anything here. You can do what you want to do, and no one will be mad at you for it.” He pauses, and then quickly adds. “As long as it’s safe. We want you to be safe.”

“You need stuff. I have to-” 

“We need you.” Leo interrupts firmly. “We need you to be safe, and healthy. That’s why we ask you to rest. That’s why when you don’t listen, we get scared, and why we sometimes get upset.” He meets his gaze. “Do you understand why that is?” 

“It’s bad?” Donnie whispers weakly. 

“Because we love you.” Mikey fills in immediately, looking him in the eyes. “And we never, ever want to see you hurt, because it hurts us. Like Raph. He doesn’t mean to yell. He’s just scared.” 

Donnie hesitates. “Scared?” 

“So scared.” Mikey concurs. “He’s not mad at you, and he’d never hurt you for this. He’s just upset because he doesn’t know how to help.” 

Something familiar sparks in brown eyes and he shifts to push Mikey off of him. His younger brother obediently disentangles himself as Leo steps back, in case he needs some breathing room. To both their surprise, he leaps to his feet and sprints out of the room without a single word. 

Startled and slightly panicked, they both follow after, and are throughly shocked to see him plant himself on the couch beside the sulking Raphael. Raph bolts upright, and they stare at one another, one contemplative and the other uncomfortably uncertain, and then Donnie wraps his older brother in a hug. 

“Wha-?!“ 

Raph’s body tenses at the unexpected show of affection and Donnie tightens his grip, leaning his cheek against the top of his head. “It’s okay. I know you’re not mad, and you won’t- h-hurt me. I- But it’s okay. Because we’re brothers. And you’re upset, but not mad.” 

“Donnie, I…” Raph faces away, staring down at the floor, stiff as a board. “Don, you’re not there anymore. You know that. You’re not.” 

“I’m home.” Donnie closes his eyes, relaxing his posture, “I’m home. With my brothers. I’m resting, but I’m okay. It’s okay.” 

“Did Mikey tell you to do this?” Raph grumbles into his shoulder, raising an eye ridge at the youngest as he leans into the hold. Mikey grins and waves his t-phone, brandishing the fact he is absolutely taking pictures. 

“No. I…” He’s quiet a moment. “…Wanted to.” 

“…Oh.” 

Mikey lowers the t-phone in surprise as Leo almost slumps over in relief. Raph finally reacts, circling his arms around his younger brother’s shell, holding on just as tight to the brother that they risk losing every time that he gets lost in past horrors.

“Fine. Only ‘cause you want it.” 

[imagionationstation]

Don’t Talk - 2012TMNT Drabblish

Don’t mind me and my violent experimentation :)

…I don’t know why it helps me hurt other characters if I hurt Donnie first. He’s simply my go-to whumpee every time.

Warnings of blood, implied abuse, and kidnapping.

Oh, and a muzzle.

His little brother is ducked in the very back of the room that barely constitutes a cell, eyes wide with a blinding terror that pierces his heart. The noise that filtered in when the metal door opened had clearly spooking him, but the room is soundless now, an echoing silence that sinks beneath their skin. 

Even though there’s recognition in his gaze, Donnie remains pressed up against the wall, trembling imperceptibly as his older brother takes a cautious step closer. The knife digs further past the indifferent barrier that protects a sensitive heart, and he pauses to collect himself before the pain leads to an anger that could get them all killed. 

Raph wishes that Leo would have come in his stead, but they didn’t know what condition they’d find Donnie in. If he needed to be carried out, they all knew he was the best turtle for the job.

Being a shoulder to cry on?

Not so much. 

He doesn’t know where exactly his brilliant brother’s state of mind is, but the terror remains fixed in place, and he’s bracing himself, waiting for Raph to add to the bruises that litter his body. There are badly healing scratches along his plastron, and his shoulder looks like it was sliced open and left to bleed and scab over. Chains keep him near the back wall, barely allowing enough width for him to stand.

Raph’s sanity flickers as he takes this in, breaths heavy as a bloody red flashes across his vision. 

Donnie whimpers. 

Raph jolts back to the present. He quickly realizes that the recognition is being buried by the terror. He turns his face away to take a minute to collect himself. 

Focus Raphael. Save the anger. Focus.

He turns back.

“Hey, bud.” He says in a tone he’s heard Leo use on occasion, trying to make up for the murderous wrath that Donnie’d no doubt seen consuming him. “It’s me. Raph. Your bro? You know me, right?”

Donnie seems frozen for a long moment, and then he takes a step forward, reaching towards Raph, only for the chains to catch on the wall, preventing him from even lifting his hand halfway. Raph’s getting a full dose of puppy-dog eyes now, and it helps soften the rage. He closes the distance between them, keeping his voice level. “Hey, there, little brother. I’m not going to hurt yah. Just gonna get…” 

Once he’s directly in front of his sadorable brother, he can see the thin marks of dried blood that stain his face like tears. He reaches up, because the next obvious move is to get the muzzle off his intelligent little brother who deserves so much more than to be treated like- like a wild animal.

Then again, no animal deserved to be treated like this.

“Woah!”

He touches the strap, and Donnie jerks away from his hands so fast that his carapace slams into the wall before he crumbles. Tears are streaming now, but he doesn’t even seem to notice, more focused on the fear that commands escape. He scoots as far back as the chains will allow, never taking his gaze off his older brother.

Raph hates seeing his brothers scared, and he feels goosebumps all over when he realizes that Donnie’s scared of him.

Raph crouches, unsure what he’d done. “Don, I only want to-“ 

A halfhearted hiss interrupts his explanation, and Raph realizes that the dried scarlet streams are now fresh, mixing with the tears. The brute wants to leave the cell and demolish everything and everyone in his path, but he remains in place through pure, impossibly mastered willpower. He knows he’s one wrong look away from snapping, but he holds on just the same. 

“Hey. I know it hurts, but you have to let me take it off.”

He reaches again, and Donnie desperately tries to turn his face away, hands kept flat against the wall in an instinctive act of submission. Raph feels the goosebumps crawl as he realizes that he’s acting as if he’s been placed in this position many times before, and he doubts they turned out well.

His concern emerges as a scowl as he practically begs, “You’re making this way harder than it needs to be. It’s me. I’m getting you out of here! Now, just- hold still.”

Donnie’s trembling is visible now, but he doesn’t fight Raph as he touches to the sides of his head that are missing a purple mask, carefully freeing the strap and peeling it off his face. It fits snuggly, and hatred burns in his blood because it could not have been that perfect a fit unless it was intentionally made for him.

There are multiple tiny pricks all over his face, and they bleed faster now that the pressure from the muzzle isn’t preventing their flow. Raph stares for a long moment before he stands up and steps away. With a furious roar, he smashes the spikes into the wall, and several break off, landing at his feet as he pulls out his sai and slices through the leather in several places.

He drops the pieces of muzzle on the ground, and turns back to his younger brother with a new sense of calm.

Donnie’s eyes are impossibly round, but as he looks between Raph and the remains of his torture device, he seems to understand. He opens his mouth to talk, but breaks into a fit of dry coughs instead. Raph drops by his side as he starts choking, wiping away some of the blood that he’s inhaling in his fight to get in air. “It’s okay, Donnie. Just take a minute. Breathe, little brother.”

“Raph.”

It barely counts as a rasp, but Raph hears everything relayed loud and clear. “Yeah, I’m here. Really here. Now, don’t talk. Save your strength.”

Donnie nods once, and Raph waits until his breathing evens out some to ask, “Can you stand?” 

Donnie makes a valiant attempt, but Raph ends up catching him before he faceplants the floor. He whines when their arms touch, and Raph’s eyes narrow as he lowers them down. Donnie clings to him when he goes to push them apart, legs curled closer to himself with his head pressed against his upper plastron. Raph is about to rise from the crouch when he realizes that Donnie is very poorly trying to hide the fact he’s crying. 

Sympathy clogs his throat as Raph dimly notices that he’s probably smearing blood all over him. The thought is ignored, and he wraps his free arm around his scrawny brother in an offering of comfort, staring numbly at the cell wall behind them as his eyes burn. 

He doesn’t know what to say, but he feels like he needs to say something. “Leo and Mike are gonna meet us at the PartyWagon, Don. We’ll get you patched up.”

Donnie doesn’t respond. Raph doesn’t expect him too.

The grip tightens, and Raph tells him that he’s going to be okay. 

He silently notes that they need to go, but he can’t bring himself to move. Donnie’s been going through hell for days. 

He needs a minute. 

He deserves just one minute. 

Raph can’t do much, but he can give him that.

[imagionationstation]

I saw this tiktok video and it fits the 2012 boys so much

Here

Donnie : "me and Raph have two ither brothers, this one *glances at mikey who's clinging to his arm* needs to be touching me at all times, abd if he's nit touching me at all times it's all hell breaks loose

And i have another brother, over there *glances at leo *...

Who's determined to kill himself—"

🤣 This shouldn’t be true, but it is, and I shouldn’t have laughed-

OMGee, though, I just have this scene in my head that basically goes on instant repeat when I see memes/photos about Leo’s concerning martyr habits that’s just-

“For once in your life, stop being so selfish!”

“Selfish?!” Leo goes from annoyed to deadly in the time it takes to blink. “That’s what you think this is? What about risking my life for the planet, to keep you guys safe- is selfish!?”

”The part where you’re just- just gone because you wouldn’t turtle up and stick around! What are we supposed to do then, huh? You’re always saying you’re the leader, that we couldn’t survive five minutes with you- so stay here and lead us!”

”It’s not like I want to die! Sometimes in the only way!”

“Alright.” Donnie steps forward, and that action alone is enough to draw the attention to him. The passive genius prefers to avoid his older brother’s bickering at all costs, but this time, he meets the leader with a leveled stare. “If it’s the only way, then let me do it. Next time, I’ll be the one to take that risk.”

Leo’s heart leaps to his throat. “What? No!”

“Why not?” Donnie’s stare lacks the heat that Raph’s did. It’s almost as if he’s unconcerned by the topic, as if he’s unbothered discussing planned suicide. “It’s a risk someone has to take. Why not me?”

“Because the team needs you!”

”And what team doesn’t need it’s leader?”

“Then I’ll go,” Mikey raises his hand with a helpful smile, and Leo can’t pull in air as he tries to process their youngest being in that kind of danger. “Team won’t fall apart without me, right? I’m no leader or genius.”

“Neither am I. Can’t have you and Leo hogging all the glory.” Raph slings an arm around Mikey’s shoulders, and the fury shifts into a confident smirk. “Me and Mike can take turns. How ‘bout that?”

Donnie nods solemnly, his expression never changing. Leo can’t believe that he’s watching some kind of suicide squad form amongst his ranks. Much less that any of them could actually believe that this is a good idea! “Are you insane?! No!”

“Why not?” Donnie questions a second time, crossing his arms. “It’s perfectly logical. If it has to be done, if there’s no other option, let them do it.”

“I won’t- can’t let you guys make that kind of sacrifice!” Leo’s terrified that this prospect has now lodged itself in their minds, unable to handle considering that they might follow through, that he might actually lose one of them.

“Do whatever it takes to complete the mission, right?” Donnie hums as he taps his bicep. “I don’t see why that can’t fit into those parameters.”

“Maybe because you could die?!”

“So could you.” Mikey points out. “Kinda the whole deal here.”

“It’s decided then.” Donnie claps his hands together importantly. “Mikey takes next end-of-the-world mission and Raph the one after that. Sound good?”

Leo clenches his shaking hands into fists. “No!”

Donnie’s calm stance never faulters. “And why not?”

“Because I could lose them! Or you! All of you!” Leo bursts in the hope of putting a stop to his worst fears. “I don’t care about the world or the mission or- I don’t care! I can’t do that! I can’t lose you!”

Blood pulses in his brain, his heartbeat echoes around him, and his brothers have become blurs. He swallows hard, trying to regain his previous control.

A hand lands on his shoulders.

“What makes you think we can?”

Holy banana pancakes, I didn’t mean for it to get that intense, but I guess it’s just a naturally intense scene in my head. Also- WE NEEDED A SCENE LIKE THIS IN THE SHOW, JUST SAYING, THANK YOU, GOOD DAY-