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lizzylucky · 7 months ago

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Draxum hadn't accounted for the fact that when he gave four hatchling turtles the DNA of a human being in order to give them greater intelligence, he would effectively be making himself a surrogate father to actual children, with wildly different needs.

When he sent his gargoyles to obtain a sample of DNA from Big Mama's prized warrior, the intention was to create his own. They were to be the prototypes for an army of simple creatures with just enough heightened intelligence to learn combat and follow commands, that he might defend Yokai kind with.

Instead, he quickly discovered the integration of human DNA had been a little over successful in allowing his test subjects to learn and think and feel in a civilized manner, going so far as to override some of their natural instincts as turtles that would otherwise allow them to learn to care for themselves. He had to feed them, by hand, with bottles.

Like infants.

They were easily distraught by unfamiliar things, and quickly became dependent on Draxum in every sense of the word. They babbled, they cried, they explored things with their hands, their tails, their mouths.

It was an unplanned adjustment needed to be made, but no matter. If anything, learning to understand the new hybrid emotions of these turtles would allow Draxum greater advantages when they grew enough to safely learn combat. Preferences, likes and dislikes, needs, diet, and so on, all became more complex areas of study.

Even a couple years in, he found himself continually surprised. Brain scans had shown that the turtles were more intelligent, still, than anticipated. They, truly, seemed more human in mind and function than anything else, with only some base instincts and behaviors left to influence their personalities. They retained many reptilian traits, but overall had the bipedal anatomy and function of humans and some Yokai. It had been an infuriating discovery at first, but Draxum had to admit that over time he became fond of it.

Each turtle had developed his own personality. The eldest, for example, had a love of plush toys, and showed a fierce protective instinct over the others. The youngest, Draxum had learned, was contrastedly reckless and excitable, not nearly so reserved or gentle as the first. Additionally, he was, decidedly, to be kept away from any and every writing utensil unless under strict supervision (unfortunately, this was learned a little too late, as was evidenced by the clear markings left in several work benches). Then, of course, were the slider and the softshell, who had the most bizarre relationship. They were constantly fighting with each other, but utterly inseparable, and each showed an incredible and unique curiosity, constantly exploring and watching and studying, with concentration filling their eyes in ways Draxum had never seen in other children so young.

Embarrassingly, it took another couple years before Draxum realized he couldn't simply refer to them by their species' names. It certainly was effective, but they were not the mild, simple creatures he had once expected them to be, and he knew that they never would.

Now, they were vocal, playful, inquisitive... energetic. By the gods, were they energetic. They never stopped moving, never stopped talking, never stopped eating, never stopped wanting or needing.

...This is why Draxum never had children of his own. It took all the time and energy he had to spare, and then some. Although it would be a lie to say he wished they were any other way.

They had so much capacity to learn, and with their emotional propensity could one day come to understand exactly why Draxum was doing this, which he knew would be an edge in their combative styles.

As he introduced them, slowly, to more of the world's culture and knowledge, he felt, in a new way, that their very existences were revolutionary. A perfect, synergistic unity between two entirely different families of genetic material, with numerous enhanced abilities. And they were children. They maintained all the properties of regular children, but had so much more in store! Such grand destinies! They would be, inarguably, the greatest warriors of their time when they were grown. They would be the compassionate, skillful heroes of all Yokai, the first of a new generation of super mutants, and the key to overcoming the evils of the humans who had overtaken the surface and posed such threat to all who lived below.

It was with great reluctance that he allowed himself to accept, however, that not all of mankind was evil. There were many forms of art, beautiful in different ways, there were some rare people filled with kindness, inventions that utilized resources in ways Yokai kind had never thought to. Perhaps he had been a little stubborn in his ways, a bias cementing over time that blinded him to some of the beauty that did yet exist in such a species.

Make no mistake, humans were a threat. Innocent families lived in fear, in hiding, of the governments and ruthless sciences designed to invade, to blaspheme the name of knowledge, with no regard for the safety of this people.

Draxum could live with being an outlaw to the Yokai if his experiments would lead to their salvation. He may be their villain in today's papers, but in history books he would be a hero.

Still, he wished to amend some of his practices. Even if only to his turtles, he would be known for his ability to change and understand. He would be fair, and he would be truthful.

And so it was that he told the turtles the nature of their existence. Perhaps he muted some of the details, to protect their minds until they had more understanding, but he would not lie to them about their DNA. He told them of Lou Jitsu, and their human genetics, and he begrudgingly allowed them access to the culture of the humans. He would let them choose their interests unbiased.

In the process, he came to know of some of the revolutionaries of human history. Though he wasn't particularly inclined to believe there were no evils involved, he was intrigued by the strange moral code that the humans boasted from their different time periods. The turtles, as well, were fascinated by the stories of war heroes and generals, seamstresses and inventors, artists and royalty.

Initially, when it came time to redesignate his turtles, Draxum had been inclined toward the names of those whose legacies persisted in the humans' culture even today- perhaps a president for the slider, a scientist for the softshell, a great general for the snapper, and an artist for the young box turtle. It seemed, somehow, clandestinely right; carefully considered to exemplify each of their personalities.

And although he had begun to get used to the possibility of names like "Monroe" and "Edison", his indecision on the matter seemed to be working against him. He was taking too long, and the boys were growing smarter.

It was a day in August, later that year, that he found his two youngest arguing over a Renaissance book, oddly enough. The elder two took to a game of knocking "secret patterns" on each other's carapaces, which he dismissed before he could allow himself the confusion that came with wondering why a five year old would want to knock on a spiked shell for fun.

After breaking up the fight and confiscating the book (which, as it turned out, the youngest only wanted because it had pictures in it, much to the chagrin of the other, who insisted that reading it was much better than just looking at the pictures), Draxum found himself idly flipping through pages of rustic images and rudimentary ideas, developed by people with strange names.

Maybe he was simply too tired to consider it properly, but, feeling defeated in his endeavor, he chose four names at random and assigned them to the young turtles, deciding it had been long enough.

It took a while to get used to, but soon "Raphael", "Leonardo", "Donatello", and "Michaelangelo" truly fit.

Over time, the boys grew... ravenous. They devoured everything- food, information, technique. They were learning quickly everything Draxum taught them. They practiced with Huginn and Muninn, leapt up, around, over, and through everything in the lab, and took special interest in action-filled films.

And Draxum grew fonder. He wasn't entirely surprised, of course; it's natural to develop some sense of sentimentality when caring for anything this long. Even if they had been the simple minded turtles he expected, he knew this was inevitable, to a degree.

What startled him was the sudden sense of fear that came with watching them train. The alarm that made his heart beat harder when one of them fell from somewhere high or any time they ran simple drills with weapons not blunted and made from wood.

He subtly began to intensify their defensive strategies, taught them where they were most vulnerable so they could protect those spots, insisted on perfecting their abilities to parry, block, and dodge before anything else.

And, over time, he found himself training them less often than before, thinking, "I must preserve their innocence and prolong their childhood experiences". After all, it was an essential part of development, was it not? If it were tarnished too much, they might become unwise or unjust as warriors. And, really, Raphael was only 8 years old, and he was the eldest; they were much too young to be exposed to the harshness of what their combative training was really for.

He told himself that, time and time again. He told them that, making certain they understood that their training was not a game. It wasn't untrue, certainly.

Really, he just wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to admit to what extent he cared about them, because it was too much. It was more than he could ever have been prepared for. It was more than that passion to protect Yokai kind ever was, and if he ever realized that, he might become the compromise to his own purposes, to the very reason these turtles exist this way to begin with, and then what? What was he to tell them, why was he to train them, who did they exist for if not the inhabitants of the Hidden City?

No. He couldn't do that. He simply would not allow it, not when so much was at stake.

And yet...

More and more often he desired simply to watch them. He was growing weary with worry, and with that tight feeling that arose in his chest each time one of his boys so much as frowned.

Raphael loved to carry his brothers on his shoulders. And he prided himself on being the big brother, in every way. He liked repeating instructions Draxum gave to the others, and tended to play caretaker anytime someone was sad, or had a bruised knee. He often played the "bad guy" in their made up games so the younger ones could "win", he was the mediator in big decisions, like what book they should read before bed, and he seemed always ready with an armful of stuffed animals when he wanted to express affection. So strong, incredibly strong, but soft spoken and sweet.

Leonardo adored Raphael. Just as Raphael did Draxum, Leonardo liked to imitate and repeat instructions. He tended to take charge in many of their childish endeavors, and had a propensity for dramatics and heroism, often pretending to rescue his brothers. This seemed to irritate Donatello to no end, unless he was also playing the hero, and often times he was. The two were usually glued to the hip, though Leonardo liked to make a point to tell all his brothers about everything that went on, and would take a movie night with the three of them over a one on one outing with Draxum any day. He was exuberant and joyous, and very driven by the concept of justice.

Donatello, similarly, seemed to care very dearly about maintaining a bond with all three of his brothers, but he was peculiar, often more reserved and enjoying his alone time. That child read and read like he might never get a chance to again, and he absorbed what he read like a sponge. Quite a few times Draxum found him pulling apart whatever he could get his hands on, and though an effort was made, there was no hiding place the boy couldn't discover in his quest for Draxum's tools. In spite of his quizzical, sometimes stoic nature, Donatello was sensitive, and very thoughtful. He would spend hours talking about his books and his ideas- some of which were very clever- and he was expressive in secondary ways- sitting nearer his brothers even without interacting, crafting things out of paper as gifts. Even the little heart-shaped mark on the back of his soft shell seemed a fitting part of him- he wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak, and didn't even realize it.

And Michaelangelo. There was an innocence and joy and goodness about the smallest turtle that had struck Draxum. Even when he was younger he always wore a smile and liked to see the good side of things. And he idolized his brothers. With him had grown his creative inclinations, filling every colouring book, drawing on every wall, and absolutely plastering the other turtles with stickers. They were a pain to wash off, but Draxum couldn't bring himself to mind it, especially given the elder three always loved their baths. Ironically, it seemed Michealangelo did not, enjoying it only under specific circumstances. Heat, bubble bath, and bath toys had quickly become a necessity. So too did bath crayons, the need to express himself coming through even when bathing. Everything about the ornate box turtle was bright and colourful.

Draxum... loved them. Dearly. Every facet of their personalities and growth. Every unique trait and behavior.

It was terrifying. He couldn't afford to love them. He couldn't afford to see any more goodness in the humanity they showed. He couldn't afford to change his goals right now.

So he continued disregarding the feeling, trying to reason that everything he did for them was to nurture their instincts as warriors, as science experiments, as specimen.

But a pained scream one day, different from any of the ones he heard when they were frightened as infants, when one of them tripped and fell, when a spat led to hitting, sent his heart into his throat and had him racing through doorways with more urgency than he had felt for anything before.

He had demanded an explanation, panic translating to perceived anger, and three of his boys looked up with teary eyes. Three, but Donatello remained curled up on the ground, wailing his little heart out without ever looking up, and it was one of the most heart wrenching, painful sounds Draxum'd ever heard.

Raphael sat not far from the smaller boy, looking over his shoulder seemingly at nothing, at Donatello, then up at Draxum and back again. Both Leonardo and Michaelangelo burst into frantic, panicked explanations, none of their words coherent enough to understand through their tears.

When Raphael stood, exposing red-tipped spikes on his shell and pointing frantically to Donatello's, it didn't take long to figure out well enough what had happened.

It became quickly a very long day. All four turtles were distraught, and though Draxum had more than enough first aid knowledge to address the situation, bile had threatened to rise the very moment he pulled out the suture kit.

The cuts were deep, and jagged. And poor Donatello cried the entire time, even after a numbing agent had been applied.

Draxum had never thought that in depth about Donatello's soft shell. Not like that. He chose a softshell for the experiment because it would provide greater flexibility, greater agility. It gave an advantage that the hard-shelled turtles did not have.

Now, here... The soft carapace, spongy and leathery and bloody...

It was an accident. Of course it was, Draxum never doubted that. He had to assure that none of his boys were in trouble, no one was in trouble, no one had done anything wrong.

But for the first time he had to be honest with himself. For the first time he couldn't deny how much he cared about the turtles. His turtles. His boys.

He wouldn't, either. If this was what it was, if this was something that could happen again because he insisted on making them into warriors, into fighters- if this could happen on purpose, if this could happen worse, if this could happen with malice and hatred in mind...

Draxum wasn't unused to physical affection, by now. All four boys adored hugs, although Donatello was usually more reserved about them. Now, Donatello clung like his life depended on it, sniffling and whimpering, having cried so long he had no more tears. Draxum clung back, idly smoothing over the edges of the bandages, holding the frightened, exhausted turtle to his chest, cradling.

He did so until well after Donatello fell asleep. He couldn't bring himself to put him down. He accompanied the others to bed, assuring them once more that things were alright, and then simply stood in the walkway, holding his boy tightly.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through with it. They were children, every bit as innocent and deserving as the Yokai he wished to avenge and protect. He could train them, prepare them to protect themselves, but he could never send them into battle, ask them to put their lives on the line, much less demand it.

How could he?

It took months of processing, of agonizing his way through the healing process with Donatello, of watching the other boys proving their humanity, their curiosity, and their innocence time and time and time again. His mind was constantly at war with itself, his heart constantly in turmoil and distress, worsened by the turtles' confusion at his sudden change in behavior.

What was even worse was that they would.

They would absolutely sacrifice everything they had for his approval, and for what they understood as "right". He could see them, easily, being willing to submit their very lives to a greater cause if he asked it.

But was he "right"? Even if this experiment had gone exactly as planned, was he right for ever considering putting these turtles into the station of a warrior? Even if they had remained turtles in mind, if they never expressed complex emotion, if they could not speak, if they did not have distinct and colourful personalities, would it have been right?

Was what he saw in them now what they would have been at heart, regardless of circumstance?

Or was it the humanity, that he stole from Lou Jitsu?

Perhaps... perhaps it was time to learn. To consider the root of his motivations.

He couldn't do this to them.

How could he?

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #rise leo #rise raph #rise mikey #baron draxum #rise draxum #rottmnt fanfiction #whump #blood mention #rise lou jitsu #lou jitsu #(only mentioned)#to be honest with you I wrote this on a whim and i don't even really know why I felt inclined to #but I really like it #maybe i just needed to get some thoughts and feelings out #and I think this'd make a REALLY cool AU idea #would anyone want to see more?#if there were interest I think this'd be a lot of fun #lou jitsu stayed with big mama in her Battle Nexus and never met Draxum face to face #Draxum kept the turtles and He's A Good Dad Actually By Accident #he slowly learns to love the turtles like a real father and even to appreciate a bit of humanity through them #and when he finally realizes that he starts questioning his beliefs and morivations #he decides not to make the turtles his warriors because they're his KIDS #and the idea moving forward is that he would find Lou Jitsu and learn about humanity #Lou in turn would have developed a hatred for yokai because of his Bad Times as an unwilling warrior #and we get a whole mess of changed roles and bizarre moral conflicts #threw in the Raph Accidentally Hurt Donnie's Soft Shell When They Were Kids trope #that's a good one hehe

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sunsetsandsunshine · 8 months ago

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Knock knock~ Hey I saw how you wanted some tickle requests for rise, how bout something like lee!Mikey and ler!Donnie. Maybe Mikey Is being Mikey and Donnie wrecks him with tickles?

~ 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚟𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎’𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ~

💜🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @rice-cake-teen10 💜🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙹𝚂𝙷𝙳𝚈𝚆𝙹𝚂𝙷 𝙷𝙸 𝙼𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙴 🫶🏾💖💕✨!!! 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍) 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠💔. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 💞˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟷𝟷𝟷

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 (𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢’𝚜) 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝟸𝟺/𝟽! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!! 𝙾𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚢𝚑𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚙𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠—)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice @saturnzskyzz

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @titters-and-tingles @cedarrthefluffylee

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠👍🏾

𝚃𝚆: 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐— 𝚢𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕 🤩🫶🏾

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙿 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙿!!! 𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈 𝚈’𝙰𝙻𝙻!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Donnnnniieeeee!” Mikey whined loudly, bursting into his older brother’s room completelyunannounced, basically breaking off the hinges of the door just to get inside.

The scientist in question fought back the irritated groan that was bubbling in his throat as his brother walked in, continuing to type on his computer as the box turtle inched closer and closer towards him. “Michaeeeelllll.” Donnie replied without looking up from his device, his monotone voice not quitematching the same enthusiasm as his sibling’s when the youngest called his name— but close!

To an extent, anyway.

“What is it that you require, Michael?” The purple loving turtle asked, “I’m quite busy right now.”

The youngest turtle bit back a groan, crossing his arms and raising one of his eye ridges disapprovingly, “Busy doing what? All I see is you typing on your computer like you work a nine to five.”

“Dealing with you is like working a nine to five.”The taller turtle retorted, “But anyways, while you’re here, I would very much appreciate it if you looked over my coding for one of my inventions.” The elder went into a file and as a result, a handful of numbers and signs showed up on the screen.

The box turtle squinted his eyes as if he was nearsighted; looking closer at the codings to try and decipher what the actual hell his brother was expecting him to look for.

“Yes, yes. I know.” The scientist huffed, “It’s very traumatizing to look at. Trust me…I would know, I made the darn thing.”

“It looks like your face. That’s traumatizing enough.” The youngest grinned smugly.

“…I don’t even know why I try…” The second oldest grumbled, “Okay, now off with thee. I have work to do.” Donatello said as he lightly pushed the youngest away from him so he could leave him to his work. But Mikey stood his ground firmly, going up to his older brother and sitting on his lap, making sure that he slouched just the right amount so that Donnie couldn’t see the device screen.

The elder sighed at the behavior, trying his best to get his younger brother off of him but every time he at least attempted to, the youngest would just put more of his body weight onto him. “Audible groan…gehet off of meehee!” Donnie whined in defeat as Mikey grinned triumphantly.

“Nah. Your pretty comfy. It’s like sitting on a sofa.”

“You’re built like a sofa, you goon! Now get off of me!” Donatello huffed, pushing on his little brother’s shell in one last attempt to get this orange life draining leech away from his precious body.

“Ihi aham giving you fihive seconds to gehet off.”

“Ohor whahat? Yohou gonna shohow meehee more coding?”

Donnie raised an amused brow, resting his hands at the youngest’s sides but not quite moving his fingers yet. The art loving teen squeaked in surprise at the new sensation at his sides, immediately hugging his middles protectively, “D-Dohohon’t!”

“One…two…”

Donnie held Mikey’s sides with his hands.

“Three…four…”

He rolled his eyes fondly, pinching the younger’s sides softly as he started to tickle him.

“Five.”

The orange banded teen giggled immediately, squirming in his older brother’s lap ever so slightly, “Stahap ihit!” He squeaked, holding onto his brother’s wrists as the softshell couldn’t help but lightly chuckle at the gesture.

“Do you reallllly want me to stop or are you just saying that?” The elder smirked, “You could’ve gotten out of my lap but you chose not to.”

The artist loving teen blushed slightly at the question, “Dohonnie weehee ahahare nahat doing thihis right nohow!”

“I’m just asking you a simple question, little brother. I don’t understand the difficulty with you failing to answer it…” The purple banded teen hummed as he dug his hands into the other’s underarms, “Yes or no?”

The art loving turtle screamed, kicking his legs in the air and shaking his head back and forth. “YeHES! Freeheeaking *squeak* stahaHAP!”

“Oh, so yes? So you do want me to continue tickling you?” Donatello grinned at his choice of wordplay. The youngest’s laughter raised an octave as he squirmed and tried to slip away from his brother’s tickly grasp and fingers.

The taller turtle quickly typed in his wristwatch, his spider arms coming out of his battle-shell and holding the other’s wrists, pulling his arms away so he couldn’t hug his middles nor squirm away.

Mikey gulped comically, squirming in his brother’s lap still. “N-NAHA— *squeak* noho! JuhUST NOHOHOH!”

“Ohhhhh. I understand now. So you don’t want me to stop tickling you?”

“STAHAP TWIHISTING MYHY WOHORDS!”

“I’m not!” The young genius grinned, “I’m just asking you to clarify!”

The smaller turtle squealed loudly, attempting to pull his wrists free from the spider arms but all his attempts ending in vain as his older brother just continued to tickle him.

“So just clarifying…you want me to continue tickling you?”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!”

“What~? I’m just asking if you want me to tickle you. That you perhaps came in here with the intention of getting tickled by yours truly—“

“STAH— *squeal* *squeak* STAHAP STAHAP STAHAP!!!”

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s frantic giggles, stopping his tickling attack but wiggling his fingers directly above the other turtle’s ribs, causing the younger’s heart to drop in anticipation as he squirmed like he’s never squirmed before.

The softshell poked the smaller turtle’s ribs teasingly a couple times, “You gonna get off of me now~?”

“IHI CAHA— *squeal* IHI CAHAN’T— *squeak*!!!” The younger teen cried out. Michelangelo was completely lost in his own laughter wonderland, still trying to at least get UP from his older brother’s lap. But with the softshell’s spider arms holding his wrists away from him, it made it even harder.

And the fact that he was completely laughing his shell off didn’t help either.

AND the fact that Donnie was making some dumb game out of this wasn’t helping either.

If there was one thing you needed to know about the youngest, it was that Mikey could not take the anticipation. At all.

Like, at. ALL.

And Donnie was just being pure Disney villain evil about it too. Which automatically made absolutely everything ten times worse…

Wait. Hold on a second…

What were even some purple Disney villain’s that Donnie resembled anyway?

Because at the end of the day the second oldest was a villain (no one just has uranium just casually stored in their room…), but Mikey just had to find out which villain.

The Evil queen? Nah. Too princessy.

Ursula? Nope. Too sea witchy.

Maleficent? No. Too emo (even for Donnie).

Dr. Facilier? …yes actually.

Donnie and Dr. Facilier don’t have similar goals per se but they definitely do look similar. And they dance the same to. They boogie down like they’re wet noodles just coming out of a boiling pot.

The box turtle isn’t usually known for throwing people under the bus…but somewhere, somehow, his purple cladded older brother was definitely on the watch list.

Now…what was Mikey doing?

Oh, yeah! Getting absolutely murdered by his older brother. Fantastic.

“Someone’s a little ticklish, huh?” The elder commented as the box turtle’s laughter kept ranging from a squeaky door to a door mouse.

“GYAHAH— *squeak* WAHA— EEEEHEHAHA!!!”

“Don’t worry, take your time.” The scientist giggled back.

“PLEHEASE!! DAHA— *squeak*!!! IHI CAHAN’T MOOHOOHOOVE!”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to get up from my lap?”

Mikey screeched, hitting his brother’s plastron with his shell and carapace, “IHI PHYSICAHALLY CAHAHANNOT MOOHOOVE YOHOU FUHUCKIN—!!!”

“I can give you until the count of ten. I’m adding an extra five seconds just because I’m so nice.”

“YOHOU AHARE NOHOWHERE NEAR NIHICE—“

“One…”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT!!!”

“Two…”

“DOHOH— *squeal* DEEHEE!”

“Three…”

“SHIHIHIT!!!”

“Four…”

“PLEHEHA— *squeal* MYHY GAHAHASH!”

“Five…”

“JUHUST GEHET OHOHON WIHITH IHIHIT!”

“Six…”

“DOHOHONNIE!!”

“Seven…”

“I WIHILL KIHILL YOHOU IN YOHOUR SLEEHEEHEEP!”

“I’d like to see you try. Anyways, eight…”

“EEEEEEE!!!”

“Nine…”

“GOHODDAMIHIT!”

“Ten~!”

Mikey braced himself both physically and mentally as Donnie said that dreadful double digit number. He rested the back of his head on his older brother’s shoulder, closing his eyes and pursing his lips to prepare from the attack.

But as the smaller mutant kept waiting and waiting…the tickles never came. The youngest hesitantly opened one eye as he saw his older brother’s fingers still wiggling right directly over his ribs.

All the while, the elder just smirked evilly. The box turtle grumbled through his stifled giggles, looking up so he could glare fully at his brother.

Dr. Facilier looking ass…

“Here it comes…” The young genius said with anticipation, “Annnnny moment…”

The box turtle broke eye contact, just shutting his eyes tight as he could do absolutely nothing but wait for his brother to do the inevitable. “You must be absolutely dying knowing it’s coming…” Donnie commented as Mikey just about screamed, not being able to hold the dam that was holding his laughs in any longer.

The softshell smiled at the cackles, tracing his fingers on his younger brother’s stomach, “I’m just sointrigued to find out what would happen if I just..” He trailed off, randomly poking right below the art loving turtle’s ribs.

The taller mutant just absolutely loved putting his brother’s on anticipatory rollercoaster’s when tickling them (as you can see).

“I could stay here alllllll day…” The elder mused, “My hands are riiiiiight here, Angleo~!”

“Fuhuhuck yohou…” Mikey giggled through gritted teeth, trying not to give his older brother an ounce of laughter whatsoever…but that ship has already sailed and went to a new ocean by now.

“Oh, wow. Cussing me out now, hm?” The purple banded turtle questioned in disbelief as he landed a couple last pokes to Mikey’s lower ribs, “NONONOHO NOHOHO! OHOMIGAHAHASH IHI’M SAHAHARRY!!!” The youngest immediately gave in and apologized, his laughs raising a higher octave than a flute ever possibly could as he descended into loud cackles.

“Really? Your 'sahaharry?'”

“YEHES *squeal* YEHEHEHES!!!”

The elder hummed in acknowledgment, scribbling his nails all over his baby brother’s ribs. Happy tears appeared in the younger’s eyes as he could really do nothing but just laugh at this point in time.

The youngest could barely even speak anymore, his giggles and squeals nearly drowning out his words, “STAHAH IHI C— *squeal* IHIHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!! DEEHEE COHOME OHOHAHAN!”

“Amused laugh. Angelo, please. I’m barely tickling you.” Donnie said as he now kneaded Mikey’s lowest rib. In result, the younger immediately jolted backwards, catching the older teen completely off guard.

“OMIGOSH!!!” Donnie yelled in panic, his metal and meat fingers both stopping the tickling onslaught towards Mikey as he hugged him fully now. The scientist and the artist both fell down on the tile floor with the chair; the young geniuses battle-shell breaking their fall.

There was a slight pause of silence before both of the brother’s broke into a large fit of laughter. Michelangelo stood, helping his brother up as they both continued to laugh.

“Thahat wahas…oho my gohosh…” The softshell snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he put the chair back to where it originally was. “Yohou lihiterally jumped uhus into tomorrow…” He commented.

Michelangelo panted heavily and let out soft giggles as he tried to catch his breath. The box turtle’s face was burning from how hard he’d been laughing but also because of how flustered he was due to the situation.

Mikey shrugged, “Whahat cahan I say? I’m aha mahahaster ahat acrobatics.”

Donatello raised a brow teasingly, facing his younger brother, “Oho, so you can do acrobatics but you can’t dance?”

“Okahay, now you juhust ruined thehehe moment.”

The purple banded turtle just chuckled, closing his laptop and putting it to charge on the desk. The smaller turtle grinned, going next to Donnie, “Sohoooo! Does thahat mean yohou like meehee mohore thahahan your computer and coding~?”

Donatello shrugged, trying to look uninterested, “Eh. I suppose so.”

“Awe, c’mon. You lohooove me.”

“I tolerate you. To an extent, anyway.”

“Wow. Thanks so much. I feel sooooo special.” Mikey deadpanned, putting a hand to his chest as Donnie hugged him. “As you should.” The elder said, glancing at his wrist-watch. “Hm. We should probably get some snacky-snacks…it’s around 1 p.m.” He stated, trying to walk to the exit/entrance but was stopped due to the result of the youngest still hugging him.

Donatello sighed fondly, peering down to the teen in question, “Your not going to let go of me, are you?”

“Nooope!”

“Figured.” The scientist huffed softly, shaking his head.

“Now let’s go to the kitchen!”Michelangelo beamed, him and Donnie shimmy-ing out of the purple room and into the hallway, on their way to find some 'snacky-snacks' to eat for lunch.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

#Sfw tickle #Sfw tickle blog #Rottmnt tickle #Rottmnt tickle fic #Lee!Mikey #Ler!Donnie #Yo the PB&J duo are COOOOOKIIING 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾✨✨✨#I love these two sm they are my everything #But guys…#GUYS🫠🥲???#This was so embarrassing to write like omllll #Idk if I’m just in a Lee mood but like— the counting..#THE COUNTING⁉️⁉️⁉️#And the fact that Mikes was basically stuck and he could not MOVE⁉️⁉️⁉️#Yeah. No #I would sob 🤺🤺🤺 you guys would never see me—#Being a tickle fic writer can be so freaking funny 😭👍🏾#Rottmnt tickle fanfiction #Oh and I did a lot of Disney references cuz Rice is THE Disney fan 🥰💗💞💖💕#I feel bad I’ve been absolutely KILLING Mikey in these fics #I love him I swear 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾#Plzzz I’m dying I’m such a Switch guys bc like omfg imagine being in Donnie’s position 🥹🤩#SMSBDVDHSKSSK #Yeahhhh this fic got be seeing smells 🫠🫠🫠

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rottmnt-residuum · 2 years ago

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Any other LGBTQ+ Headcannons that are canon is the comic??;)

*patiently awaits Cupioromantic Donnie*

hmm... had to think about this for a while and talk about it with co-author, but here's what we got. we mostly base this stuff on how plausible it is in show/if there's evidence for it. with a dash of personal experience. This only applies to residuum, btw. I have different personal headcanons for these characters outside the comic.

april: lesbian. this is mostly based off of the fact that most aprils get with their caseys & the comment she said to dale. which could be taken as disinterest in dale specifically, but she seemed more concerned with impressing that popular girl earlier and that reads as more... saphic, i suppose. or at the very least homoromantic.

raph: raph is just raph. we look at him and basically just *tv static*. go crazy. all we got is jokes or stuff that has too little evidence to support. so, yeah, he's whatever you want him to be i guess?

leo: trans. already said my reason in the other post. also, gay. if gay were a power source he could power the entirety of the united states for five months straight without a single power outage. failing power grid notwithstanding (< thats the actual word. its supposed to be mushed together like that. wack.).

donnie: as much as i'd like him to be ace/aro spectrum rep, he just doesn't have the evidence in show for us to apply it to him in this comic. it's funny, for being hc as ace so often he sure is the most outwardly romantic/sexual turtle in the show lmao. one! cherry: "you're so cute, but you're so mean! why do i always go for your type?" two! astrogirl?? (whatever her name is) he is very very romantic with her. he has a type y'all. also just look at those two, he's a leg man lmao (bootyyshaker9000 anyone? ha!) anyway. and with the bromance/instant chemistry he had with that one guy in the purple dragons... Pan. or possibly Omni as he does seem to favor... cute brutal femme... Yeah. Omnisexual.

(you have no idea how fucking bad i want this boy to be ace spectrum. hes got the colors y'all!! The Colors!!!!! but alas... i am bound by my canon plausibility creed for this comic)

mikey: ace. possibly ace/aro. he shows interest in literally no-one. we're aware that the common hc is pan but... we know a pan 13 year old, and let me tell you ahahahaha, kids going through puberty are very uncomfortable to be around sometimes, especially around their partners. or crushes. and mikey... well, that boy is ace behavior personified lmao. aces in the back you get what we mean right?? right??? anyway commiting to aroace

#residual asks #rottmnt #i really get a kick out of he/him butch lesbian raph and ghostbear-sexual raph #but i'd never use those seriously. or at least in this comic #co-author says what they get if they really had to choose for raph is ace homoromantic #but otherwise...#he's just raph #like we can't apply any identity to him. and we really mean ANY identity. not even straight or umbrella terms like queer #its a very odd feeling #i also really like trans april but we don't have enough evidence for it #in fact there's actually counter evidence- but don't let that stop your dreams y'all. it just stops ours :P #sorry for stepping on your donnie dreams anon #but honestly i think that label applies more to 2012 donnie imo #i really do personally prefer ace/aro donnie. but i'd make everyone ace if i were able lmao #co-author would also do the same thing ahaah #i just don't like depicting romantic relationships. or attraction ahahaah #with mikey... we get why people hc him as pan... but like its a fandomism stereotype #that literally every fandom applies to optimistic friendly characters. and honestly i really don't like the fandomism stereotypes #i just find them... unenjoyable i guess #cuz like y'alll... your sexuality isn't inherently determined by your personality or vise versa #cuz like i know for sure that in fandom spaces- if i were a character- i'd be stereotyped as pan or a hypersexual cis het #to which i am neither. at all.#and co-author would be stereotyped as the demure femme book lesbian #which they are VERY much not #and i know this because i've been fandomified by people in my life more than once #it is a very uncomfortable experience y'all #whoops rant in the tags #residuum #rottmnt residuum #residuum wb

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