#action/adventure family and time travely nonsense :)

[theashemarie]

omg omg omg so i thought i recognized the writing style in the first chapter of aftershocks but i guess i’m blind because it took until JUST NOW for me to realize it was you!! one of my fav fanfic writers!!! PLEASE tell me you’re writing a solo fic because i would lose my marbles for real

omg anon i cannot express how much this asks means to me. i'm super glad you're enjoying aftershocks and that you're stoked for my writing so much ;A;

i am actually working on a turtle fic, though it's gonna be a while until i post anything. here, have a half-finished scene i wrote the other day ;)

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Every morning, Donnie and Leo played rock paper scissors to determine who was the oldest. It was a long-standing tradition that began one day when Splinter got sick of their bickering but accepted that this was a life-or-death issue—who was oldest—and treated it with the gravity it deserved: best of three, with two witnesses, every morning, and the title lasted all day unless willingly traded. They readily passed it back and forth like a baton, allowing each other to claim the coveted second oldest brother whenever they needed, but it was never clear exactly who was the oldest. Splinter had no idea, and it didn’t really matter in the long run.

But it did matter. It mattered a lot.

Donnie wasn’t one to renege on a deal, so that morning, as he had every morning since they were six and a half, he stumbled into the kitchen, exhausted because he’d only managed three hours of sleep, and threw a rock to Leo’s scissors, then a paper to Leo’s scissors, and finally lost with all the grace of a wounded bird when he played paper and Leo hit him with scissors again. Leo crowed, clearly well-rested, Raph muttered that the sound check on Leo’s lungs was complete (they were fine, like always), and Mikey stared blearily at them over a bowl of mushy cereal. Donnie waved his hand and turned to leave, pride hurt, but he was used to this particular loss. Leo didn’t have a strategy when it came to rock paper scissors—something Donnie had learned the hard way—so he played randomly, while Donnie still tried to think around him. It was pure chaos from Leo, and Donnie had no idea why he always tried to bring order.

“Have a good day, little brother!” Leo called after him, goading. Donnie tried not to let it get to him, but he could feel Leo’s voice burrowing under his skin, especially when he followed up with: “That’s three days in a row. I hope you’re used to it!” and laughed that obnoxious laugh of his.

“Actually,” Donnie said, pausing briefly to look over his shoulder, “I’ve won over two hundred more times than you, so you are the one who should be used to it.”

The look on Leo’s face was worth every second of the humiliation Donnie had been under for the last three days. “What?”

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping track. Just 153 more wins and I’ll have been older for an entire year.” Donnie let out a dark chuckle. “Enjoy your winning streak, big brother. Soon, it won’t matter, and I’ll be a whole year older than you…”

“I don’t think that’s how it works…” Mikey piped in, finally awake enough to comprehend what was happening around him.

“Scoff. Oh Michael, stay out of things you don’t understand.”

“I do understand…” Mikey muttered to Raph with wide eyes. Raph groaned.

“Donnie, leave Mikey alone. You’re not going to be a year older than Leo just because you won 365 more times than him.”

“Au contraire mon frère—”

“Poor Don,” Leo cut in, leaning forward on the table. “So desperate that he’s been counting for ten years…”

Leo grinned at him, and Donnie felt his hands fist at his sides. “It’s not desperate if it’s facts—”

“It is. It’s so desperate.”

“Facts are facts.”

“Desperate facts.”

“So you admit it. I’ve been older for longer—”

“I admit that you’re desperate, yeah.”

Donnie took in Leo’s smug expression and felt something click behind his eyes. It was too early for this, and he didn’t have a battle shell, but that didn’t matter. He launched himself at Leo with a yell.

The scuffle was short lived, more for show than anything, though Leo did get a good poke at Donnie’s eye, with flailing limbs and loud, overexaggerated grunts. Donnie shoved Leo’s face away as they wrestled, and Leo smacked his open hand on Donnie’s plastron as he tried to get him into a headlock.

“That’s enough,” Raph sighed as he pulled them apart. He held one brother in each hand at arm’s length, unphased as they squirmed and kicked toward each other, not done with their scrap. He shook them once, sending Donnie’s brain scrambling. “Dee, stop taking everything so personally.” He looked at Leo in turn. “Lee, stop goading him. You know how he gets.”

“Ha!” Leo cried, pointing one strong finger in Donnie’s direction and sticking his tongue out.