#Rottmnt shorts

[daboyau]

8. Drugged or 11. Infection, your choice 👀

Sooo I decided to go with drugged, but maybe not the way you’d expect….

@boots-with-the-fur-club

Donnie’s already in bed when Leo stumbles through his bedroom door. He sighs, very deliberately not looking up from his phone. There’s a very fascinating article on cloning he’s only just found time to actually read, and he’s not particularly interested in indulging any of his brother’s hairbrained shenanigans at the moment. 

“Dee,” Leo says, and that one soft word is all it takes. Donnie’s head snaps up, his heart already in his throat. Leo is smiling, but he’s clutching at the doorframe like it’s all that’s keeping him upright. His scales are a horrible, sickly, washed out color of yellowish green.

“What did you do?” Donnie demands, flipping from his loft. It’s a testament to his worry that he doesn’t stick the landing, stumbling, one knee buckling under him. He doesn’t feel the pain as he scrambles forward, hands already outstretched, prodding at his brother’s face, clutching at his arms, searching for the damage.

“I think I really messed up this time,” Leo says, and his smile is still stretching his cheeks. His eyes are bright and glassy. His pupils blown wide wide wide.

“What did you do, Leo?” 

“Took too many,” he says, and his smile finally wavers, and he turns to the side to vomit on the bedroom floor. 

Adrenaline is coursing through him, making his hands tremble and his heart beat too quick inside his chest. He grabs his brother before he can collapse, helping to guide him slowly to the floor, careful to keep him out of the puddle of sick.

“Leo. What did you take.” His voice is clipped. Harsher than he wants it to be. He can’t help it; the tightness in his throat is too painful to squeeze any other emotion around. Leo doesn’t respond. Donnie gives him a sharp little shake. “Tell me what you took, Leo!”

His brother’s murmurs are low, and so slurred he can’t make anything out other than a soft string of nonsense. 

sorry. accident. promise. sorry sorry sorry.

His hands are shaking as he presses a finger to the pulse point at his throat. Leo mumbles something, head lulling back, eyes fluttering and rolling. His pulse is frighteningly slow. There’s something he can do to help. He knows there is. 

But he can’t think around the panic and the horror at the realization of what Leo’s done that is rising higher and higher, filling every available space inside his mind with nothing but static. He opens his mouth. All the escapes his throat is a rasping, broken sound. He takes a breath. Clears his throat. Tries again. 

“Raph.” His voice is still so small. He can’t tear his eyes away from Leo’s pale face. He feels cold. A sound rips itself from his chest, something unnatural and unpleasant. Leo stirs, head rolling, eyes fighting to open. He stares, and he raises a trembling hand to press against Donnie’s cheek. It is clammy. So, so cold. 

Why does he look so sad?

Donnie holds it tight, keeping it pressed close to his cheek even after it’s gone limp.

“Dad! Raph! Help us!” 

[shittygaypornmagazine]

I have so many questions regarding the mini episode about the rottmnt turtle's socials

Like what the fuck is this. What to do you fucking mean a spicy meme. And why have I been laughing my ass off for five minutes at this point.

[rottmnt-background-screenshots]

what episode was that screenshot of the turtle tots from?

One of the shorts. I'm currently only posting from the shorts just to take a breather before the movie, so anything you see will be from here.

So there ya go!

[divi-138]

me and my brother interaction reminded me of them so I drew it

I'm Leo in this scenerio

[abbeyofcyn]

Part 2

PREV || NEXT

[classy-thief]

First chilly day

🌻 part 1!

I'm making a comic!

this takes place some time after the movie and the boys are finally leaving the lair for some much needed fresh air :D

First | Next

[cupcakeslushie]

MAP PART 3

Prev || …

[beannary]

Donnie has entered his Rapunzel era

This is part 55 of The Little Prince Separated AU

Beginning | Previous | Next

[somerandomdudelmao]

And lil bonus~

Time for the sweet sweet aftermath ahaha

Part 10

Part 1 Next

[raindropsyndrome]

So, no one will headcannon that Donnie would be thrilled to help raise a kid? No? 🤨

Alright then… I’ll do it myself

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[daboyau]

This was the other dialogue prompt idea I got when thinking about @psychologicalwarclaire’s ask. No. 3 from this post here. :) enjoy. (Threat of drowning and peril, lots of injuries, boys generally being stressed and hurt and having a Not Good Time.)

.

The gentle sound of trickling water is a cruel mockery of the grim reality of the situation. Mikey is clutching at him as much as he can when they’re half buried like this, nails digging into the back of Donnie’s hand with the kind of desperation that he hasn’t felt since his little brother was six and they’d found themselves huddled together in front of an illicit late night horror movie marathon. 

If only it were so simple now. 

The water is rising slowly, but not slow enough. Raph and Leo know where they are, but they’re not supposed to get here for another hour, and that’s only if they’re on time for once in their life. By then, the water will be above their heads. If they arrive on time, Donnie will be fine. 

His little brother won’t. 

The rubble doesn’t shift when Donnie reaches his free hand beneath the water once again, pushing against it with a desperation that thrums both hot as fire and cold as ice inside his veins. He does his best not to let it show on his face, but of course Mikey can tell. He’s always been far better at that than Donnie ever has been. 

“Dee?” he says, and even though his voice barely rises above a whisper the sound reverberates through the cramped hole they’ve fallen into. 

Tiny pieces of concrete fall from the ragged edges above them, plunking into the rippling pool. The water comes just a little faster, stirring up sediment and clouding it even more. He can’t see through it, and can’t tell where his best point of leverage might be to try to safely shift the rubble. Blood drips from the gash on his head to dance in the water around them and if not for the way the mere thought of trying to string two coherent thoughts together feels like agony, Donnie could probably have calculated exactly how much time the sound of his name had cost them. 

He forces himself to smile, though he can taste the blood on his teeth and it makes him want to gag. He and Mikey have matching gaps now. They can bond about it later. Right now, all he can focus on is the throbbing of his head and Mikey’s hand in his own, and how the water is tickling against his waist. It’s strangely warm despite the time of year.

Mikey’s hand curls tighter at whatever he sees in Donnie’s expression. It is shaking, hard enough that it sends tiny ripples through the muddy grey water. 

He lifts a finger to his lips, cringing at having the filth that’s clinging to the creases in his palm and lingering beneath his nails so close to his face. Not that it matters. He’ll be swallowing it by the lung full soon, if he can’t come up with a way to get them out of here. It’s a lot of pressure to put on his pounding head, but it has always been his belief that a true genius can work best under pressure. 

(In theory, that is. He refuses to think about how often he’s found himself at a standstill, locked between choices, frozen by uncertainty. It’s not what Mikey needs from him right now. They’ll both be dead if he lets those feelings overwhelm him, this time.)

The water tickles where it laps at the base of his ribs. The silt and debris swirling beneath its surface hurt when they brush against him, and he can feel the grit lodging itself beneath the scales of his legs as he tries to wriggle and drag himself even an inch away from the rubble that’s pinning him down. 

There are broken bones hidden beneath the weight of concrete and rebar. He feels them, and he ignores them, and he hopes that he’ll still be alive in order to complain about them in a few days. Mikey will probably handle being in a cast better. He’ll probably like bossing Leo around. Maybe he’ll even let Raph baby him a little. That would be nice for them. 

Donnie carefully extracts his hand from his little brother’s iron grip, meeting his wide eyed gaze with a steady — if slightly hazy — look of his own. He needs both hands to fiddle with the tech on his wrist again. It’s been useless the last fourteen times he’s checked, but he keeps holding out hope that his inventions won’t fail him this time around. 

The screen is completely shattered. There are no blinking lights or even the softest of sounds emanating from it. It was designed to be waterproof, but not entirely crush proof. It had worked to save his arm, but between his bones and his tech, he really wishes that it had been his tech that had survived the fall. 

He grumbles low in his throat, mostly because he can’t risk screaming all the curses that he wants to right now. Not when the most infinitesimal sound is enough to destabilize the small lip of the hole that keeps the water from rushing inside and drowning them all the sooner. Mikey makes a similar noise, something low and soothing, more of a gentle vibration that Donnie can just barely feel through the water than actually hear. 

When he looks, Mikey is staring back. Eyes wet with tears and full of terror, but with a trembling smile meant only for Donnie. It is a fragile thing, but it is full of hope and faith and trust that his big brother will be able to get them out of this mess.

Donnie’s throat goes painfully tight. His subvocalizations stop with an abruptness that makes Mikey jerk a little bit with worry and confusion. The water sloshes, brushing against the center of his chest plates. He can feel it slide beneath his battleshell, the wetness and the silt trying to wind its way into every inch of his body. It’s going to chafe on the walk home, he’s sure of it. 

Mikey raises a shaking hand, wiggling his fingers to get Donnie’s attention. Blood and water drips down his arm. It’s almost reached the top of his plastron.

Mikey waves, and Donnie’s eyes snap briefly towards his face before they settle on his hand again. 

It’s okay. We’ll get out, he promises, jerking and slow, wincing when the careful finger spelling pulls at the obviously broken bones of his metacarpal. He smiles with gritted teeth, and Donnie smiles back.  Neither of them are very convincing. 

There was a feature he was in the middle of testing. Something he should have already had installed ages ago. It’s supposed to act as a warning system, where if his tech gets damaged to the point where it’s unusable, it will send an alert to Shelldon and to each of his flesh and blood family members. It was supposed to be for catching Leo in the act of playing with things that aren’t his, but…well. This is a perfect example of other ways it can be used. 

There’s a 50/50 chance that the alert will have been triggered when his wrist tech was shattered. Shelldon and Leo and Raph and April might already be on their way, or they might still be lounging in front of the tv back at the lair. He doesn’t like their odds very much. 

The water is warm when it brushes against the scales of his chest. At least when they drown, the water will be warm. That’s…it’s not actually much of a comfort. He’s heard that drowning is a terrible way to go. Turtle biology or not, he’ll need to breathe eventually. It’s going to hurt. 

He turns his eyes to Mikey’s face. His baby brother is tipping his head back, eyes squeezed shut. The water is lapping hungrily at the base of his neck, squeezing like a noose around the delicate hollow of his throat. 

He doesn’t want it to hurt. Not for Mikey. 

He takes a breath and dips beneath the water again, redoubling and then tripling and then quadrupling his efforts, screaming and howling and beating against the concrete that has crushed his legs and kept him pinned. Helpless and useless and he doesn’t want to die, not like this, and god oh fuck, not Mikey, pleasepleasepleasenothisbabybrother pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplea

The rubble shifts, just the tiniest bit, but it shifts wrong. He screams again and tasted the water in the back of his throat as it slides down his calf to settle instead on his knee. He feels the bones grind and crunch as it bends in a way it shouldn’t. He surfaces, heaving and gasping and biting back the sobbing screams that would do nothing but rob Mikey of these final precious seconds of air. 

The water has reaches his neck now, and he breathes deep, trying to slow the racing of his heart so his body doesn’t burn through more oxygen than it needs to. He tries to center himself like dad used to tell them to do when he was pulling out splinters or bandaging a scraped elbow.

The rubble had moved. That was something. He can work with somethings. 

The water kisses Mikey’s jaw. Tears mix with the water on his cheeks, and when he tilts his head to look towards Donnie with wild, horror stricken eyes, it licks at the corner of his mouth, begging entry. Donnie shudders at the sight.

Mikey whimpers, so soft and so broken. He’s pinned worse than Donnie is, all the way up to his thighs, and with only one arm free. That’s okay, though. Donnie can fix this. It’s just going to hurt a whole lot. 

Hey, he signs, and then again, harsher this time to make sure he has Mikey’s full attention. Hey!

He forces a smile, rictus and pained, but he puts every tiny flicker of his belief that he has a chance into it. He raises a finger to his lips again, hushing Mikey’s whimpers, quieting his worries. 

You’re okay, he signs, deliberate and stern, like he can push force the world around them to bend to his will through sheer bullheadedness and love. You’ll be okay. I’m going to fix this.

Mikey meets his gaze. Holds it. Then, he nods. The water reaches over his mouth when he does. Donnie nods back. 

Then, he takes his final breath, and he dives below again. Blood blooms in the water. Mikey’s head goes under. 

He knows he’ll get them out. 

[kathaynesart]

Will I be the only one who knows this stupid reference? Let’s find out. Will I possibly make these designs into shirts just for myself? Also likely.

For those curious my friend reminded me of this gem of a short from 2001 called “Rejected” by the mind-bogglingly talented Don Hertzfeldt. If you are unfamiliar please educate yourself with the dumbest/best Oscar nominee HERE. (Note: pretty sure it’s rated Mature so tread carefully kids). Fun fact he also directed my favorite Simpson couch gag.

[matchstique]

Part 1 of 2

Part 2

[divi-138]

My Favorite Scene of the Fic

Started reading MNMC and BOY ITS GOOD

no pressure to finish the fic but,, PELASE I GOTTA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT @mutantninjamidlifecrisis

Comic layout and f!Leo inspo by @somerandomdudelmao

[abbeyofcyn]

Leo

Donnie

Raph

[sugarpasteltmnt]

"Acolyte" Michelangelo has joined the group chat

THANK U AGAIN TO @anixolt for accepting this commission request!!! Looks like 'Dino'-tello has unexpected company 👀

Hailing from his own alternate reality, "Acolyte" Mikey & his brothers had a very different childhood than the mad Dogs we all know and love. Set in a feudal Japan-esque world, Mikey and his brothers were raised under the Ninja Tribunal in a remote temple as future protectors of humanity...

However, fate was unkind to the lackadaisical Michelangelo who doubted the legend of the foretold 'Krang Invasion'-- let alone it happening much sooner than anticipated.

[link to twitter thread]

More lore below! (but heed the content warnings!!)

CW: implied family death, implied child abuse

Inspired by the 2003 "Acolyte" Arc, Mikey and his brothers were given to the Ninja Tribunal as children to raise as warriors on account of being gifted with mystic abilities; something very rare and unheard of in their universe.

Mikey was the most mystically inclined of his brothers. Because of this, he doesn't take training very seriously. He's also the oldest brother in his universe, but takes that role very, very seriously.

Splinter was their "father"... however, he was the one who gave them to the Ninja Tribunal. And they weren't exactly 'lenient' with children. Not when their purpose was to become warriors to defend the world. Because of this, Mikey hates Splinter. With every fiber in his body.

But despite their upbringing, Mikey was fun and kind.

But homie cannot cook to save his life

However, due to events during the invasion... Mikey is the last man standing. On the whole planet.

And he Snaps

With elevated powers and grief, Mikey traverses the heavens to hunt Krang and their settlements.

He uses dried Krang blood as his mask, having lost his in battle (and Krang blood dries orange when oxidized)

He dots his yellow spots with a drop of Krang blood to mirror Krang eyes. Using mystic abilities, the faux eyes can move and "look" around too. Terrifying.

However, due to classic Hamato shenanigans— 'Acolyte' Mikey may find himself drawn to a very, very different place than a Krang settlement 👀👀👀