#autistic donnie tells

[autistic-donnie-tello]

ao3 PLS dont make me go to wattpad dont make me this desperate

[thatkoiboi]

Sleepovers with April are the best! ...and normally accidental-

omg also i binge read dandy's "i may be invisible, but i still look good" and the reference is random but i needed it cause it was funny in the fic and references are my data collection-

[tmntphantom]

phantom turtle tots...

forgot most of donnie's outer scutes. oops

[dandylovesturtles]

Please tell me something about the Shape of Water AU I'm very curious

this is just the doc title for my "100 Feet and a World Away" AU! I have the lore post linked in my pinned.

tldr: the boys get kidnapped young and raised in a lab by humans who aren't aware they have human level intelligence, and they try to escape.

I posted a bit about Donnie (aka Turtle Four) eating french fries awhile ago but here, have the rest of the scene too:

April unwraps something. The smell assaults his nose - greasy meat, cheese, that red vegetable he’s seen sometimes - and he slips into the water and swims over, popping out just shy of the fence.

“I’m sorry, are you eating during our escape planning meeting?”

“Don’t start with me,” she says, holding up a hand. “I had to work through breakfast to catch up on my homework for my morning classes, then work through lunch to catch up on my homework for my afternoon classes, and then I worked through dinner to catch up on everything else.” She takes a bite, chews, swallows. “This is the first chance I’ve had to eat all day.”

“Huff! Fine. But did you have to bring something with so much…” he flails his hands, “smell?”

“It’s just a burger. What, you never had a burger before?”

He stares at her. She catches his eye, and then lowers her gaze.

“Right. Stupid question.”

“Sometimes the humans bring those. The burgers, you said? They eat them around noon.” He thinks of it with distaste. He can remember exactly which of the humans tend to chew with their mouths open, or talk with food in their mouths. It makes him feel slimy when he watches. 

“We call that “lunch”,” April says. She looks at the burger, then back at Four. It’s with an expression he doesn’t understand, but he’s noticed from her more and more. “Do you want to try it?”

He hesitates. He doesn’t know if he wants to or not. The smell is overwhelming, and he isn’t sure how it will taste. How it will feel, in his mouth.

No one ever offers him food, though.

“...I’m perfectly fine with my nutrition blocks,” he finally says.

“Oh come on, Donnie, that’s not food.”

“It is. It gives me all the vitamins and minerals I need. And…” He stumbles over what he wants to say. He hates when he does that, but he doesn’t know the words for what he’s trying to convey. He wishes he had a bigger vocabulary. He wishes he were allowed to read.

Wishes get him nowhere. He has to focus on the task at hand. Only, April doesn’t seem to want to continue with their escape planning unless he makes a decision about the burger.

“...And?” she prompts, startling him.

“...I don’t know… some food… feels weird,” he finally says.

“Feels weird?”

“In my mouth.”

For a moment she just stares at him. He guesses he must have said something weird. Humans must not care about how food feels in their mouth. Maybe that’s just a turtle thing.

Or maybe his brothers don’t think that way either. Maybe it’s just a Four thing.

But then April’s eyes go a little wider, and she says, ���Ooooh. You have texture issues, huh?”

“Texture?”

“Yeah. How the food feels. Some people get really bothered by it; guess you do, too.”

Oh. So it’s not just a Four thing. There’s a whole name for it. He learned something new! How exciting!

“Yes!” he declares. He feels more confident about it now. “I have texture issues!”

She laughs at that. It’s not a mean laugh. He’s not sure why what he said was funny, though, but before he can ask she’s tearing off a small piece of the meat on the side of the burger she didn’t bite.

“Here. Just try it.” She slips it through the gaps in the chain-link, where he can get to it. “If it feels bad, you can just spit it out. I won’t be mad.”

She’s always telling him that. That she won’t be mad. He doesn’t know why; he’s never seen her get mad, at least not at him. But she always tells him that anyway.

It makes him feel better, somehow, even though that’s illogical.

He takes the meat gingerly in his fingers and looks at it. It doesn’t look particularly appetizing. The smell is a lot, but not so bad now that he’s getting used to it. He likes meat - not that he’s had it much. Maybe it will be fine.

He puts it in his mouth and immediately knows it isn’t. He doesn’t like the way the meat falls apart. He can’t describe it, he just knows it’s wrong.

He spits it out. April said she wouldn’t be mad.

“No good, huh?” she asks. She doesn’t sound mad.

“No. It was bad, actually.”

“Hmm, alright…” She glances around, then grabs the sack and pulls out something else: a small container of something thin and golden brown. “Wanna try a french fry?”

“A french fry?”

“It’s just a fried potato.” She pulls one of the thin stick-things (french fry) out of the container and pokes it through the fence. “Here!”

He takes it, looking it over suspiciously. It has the same greasy smell as the burger, but it’s not meat, it’s “potato,” so it must have a different texture.

He nibbles the end, and oh.

It’s actually good!

He devours the rest of the fry. She laughs again, and when he looks back at her she’s smiling.

“Alright, so the fries are a winner. Here, have some more!”

She slips a few more through the fence, and then a few more. Four happily eats all the fries she passes him. They taste nothing like the nutrition blocks, they taste better than the nutrition blocks, and they don’t feel bad in his mouth, not even a little.

“When I get out of here,” he says, after downing the last one, “I’ll eat like this every day.”

“Maybe not fries every day. They’re pretty unhealthy.” She shrugs. “But there’s all kinds of other things out there for you to try! We’ll figure out all the foods you like to eat.”

[thejadecount]

Shoutout to all the other autistics like me who didn’t actually realize they were autistic until Rise Donnie showed up like the absolute king he is

[angelo-the-doctor-of-feelings]

Hey, uh… sorry if this is rude or personal or something- But can you talk about any experience you’ve had with a panic attack? like a story of you having one or one of your brothers having one? thanks

Donnie had a full-blown panic attack recently.

Donnie allowed me to share this story with you.

Warnings: food issues, disordered eating (?)

It was a typical morning, Donnie was the first to get up & started brewing coffee in our kitchen.

I'm always the second to great the day - it's my unofficial job to make breakfast, then Raph joins later, drawn in by the lovely smell of food & and lastly our night owl, Leon. I actually doubt he gets proper sleep anyway. He's up until the morning hours & then randomly passes out of exhaustion.

I decided to make pancakes for everyone, Donnie insisted to eat his same food, oatmeal - he always sticks to those when he's having a hard time or when he knows it will get stressful OR when the day had been stressful. I have stopped to ask him for a change in his eating habits since pressure won't do anything & I'm happy he eats. You should know that Donnie's relationship with food is complicated & it has been very troublesome in the past.

We started preparing the food & setting the table.

I decided to make some strawberry yogurt to go with the pancakes when I had the dough ready to bake.

"Hey Donald, could I get some of your yogurt?"

"Sure." He passed me the container without giving me a glance & I noticed he was staring at his bowl.

"Is everything alright?" I asked carefully.

He didn't answer.

I shrugged it off & started baking the pancakes & mixing the yogurt with the chopped strawberries.

I was growing a bit concerned by the minutes passing. Usually, Donnie vocally stims (chirping & soft humming) when he's preparing his food, but on this day, it was different. Donnie didn't make a single noise.

When the pancakes were ready, Raph joined us & finished setting the table.

"Yo, Mike, yo Don!"

Donnie remained silent as he placed his bowl of oatmeal at his place. Raph looked at me puzzled, but all I could do was shrug.

After breakfast was ready to consume, I went to wake Leon, who slept in (again).

Before I left the kitchen, Donnie grabbed my bath robe (it's sooo comfy!) with a tight grip.

His face was blank & he seemed very tense. "Yes, Donnie?"

He struggled to find words, I saw it. This is never a good sign. I raised my hands & wiggled my fingers to signal he could do sign language as well.

Donnie let go & started signing.

"I can't eat."

"What do you mean, you can't eat?" I asked carefully.

"It's the oatmeal."

"What about it?"

Donnie fidgeted with his hands, looking away. I touched his shoulder comfortingly. He had eaten it for three years straight, every single day. What could have been wrong with it now?

"Don't worry, Donnie. You don't have to eat. I am going to wake Leon now, alright?"

My purple brother simply nodded & I left the kitchen.

Only to find Donnie absolutely devastated a few minutes later sitting on the kitchen floor, rocking back & forth while crying.

"Oh my gosh, what happened, Raph?" Leon was still very sleepy, but he was quickly awake when he saw Donnie.

"He smelled at his oats & then just started crying & shaking!" Raph answered.

I sat beside Donnie & tried talking to him, but he couldn't communicate verbally, nor with his hands.

He was hyperventilating.

"Shit."

And then our group dynamics changed as they ways do, when something like this happens:

I fixed my glasses (I usually wear contacts) & got up.

Therapist Dr. Feelings became the leader of the team.

I told Raph to pick Donnie up & carry him to his room & I told Leo to gather Donnie's emergency kit for situations like these from his lab.

Donnie has a plan for every possible situation that we both worked out together.

I could cry every time I have to make Raph carry Donnie when he's having a panic attack or a meltdown. Donnie started screaming & hissing at Raph when he tried to pick him up. When Raph had him in his arms, Donnie started hitting him.

But Raphael is strong & he doesn't mind that. He knows Donnie is not able to think clearly & he's in stress & survival mode.

"He can hit Raph. It's cool. Just not himself."

We put him under his weighted blankets & made his room dark & I turned on his infrared lamp for warmth & comfort.

He instantly calmed down a bit & his hand reached out under the mess of blankets & pillows, Leon had put on him.

I took his hand & I stayed with him for five hours until he whispered:

"I lost my favourite same food today, Mikey."

"What happend?"

"It was weird. All of a sudden, I couldn't stand the smell of it. I couldn't even bring myself to eat it. I felt sick & ready to throw up if I had put some of it in my mouth. I'm afraid, Mikey. What if I lose my other foods, too? What if I can't eat anything anymore? I don't want to go down that spiral again."

And I understood why he had panicked.

He lost his safe food, that literally saved him out of his disordered eating spiral. All of a sudden.

No wonder he panicked.

"We will always be there to help you, Donnie. You don't have to battle your mind alone."

He hasn't touched oats, yogurt & pudding since then. I saw that he tried, but he always got nervous & put them back.

Now Donnie only eats rice cakes & peanut butter, but hey, he eats.

Sometimes, I wish I could take all his struggles away.

[invisiblehoodie]

I fucking love this turtle sm

[autitello]

Donatello HCs part 8

or

I watched ROTTMNT again and you have to suffer with me

MORE DONATELLO HEADCANONS - more visual sensory things!

He loves going up to the city at night because of all the lights and colors.

He takes inspiration from it and that’s why his lab and room are decorated with so many LEDs and such. It’s a visual stim for him.

Additionally, he never uses the overhead lights in his lab unless he really needs the extra light and doesn’t have any overhead lights in his room at all.

He gets really upset if someone turns on the lights in his lab without warning. Both because it’s a sensory shock and because he’s usually concentrating and does not want to be interrupted when hyperfocusing on a project.

He likes steady color changing lights in his work spaces. It has multiple settings for different color combos. His favorite is one that shifts between shades of blue, purple, teal, and magenta.

He does like strobing effects and how they look but they’re overstimulating after a few minutes.

He likes concerts with laser effects and will watch them from a distance so it’s not as overwhelming (too many people, too loud, and difficult to leave if he gets overstimmed). Just close enough so he can feel the bass shake whatever he’s sitting on.

He likes bright colors and neon effects in art and Mikey will often make a drawing or mural with that effect for him.

He secretly likes stimboards/moodboards but kinda thinks they’re cringe at the same time.

He draws stars on his arms around his markings because he loves the way they look (also feels nice)

Mikey saw him drawing stars on himself with a pen and got him a brush pen to use instead (looks AND feels better)

This was longer than I expected it to be. I still have more ideas for this ashdhjfkls anyways hope you enjoyed :)

[louloubookworm]

Their non-binary

And autistic

[ratdad29]

Ur daughter (?) Creepy a f jfc

She’s not that creepy. Donatello’s eyes glow red in the dark and when he was 5-12 he’d stand in the middle of the hallway staring at my door waiting for me to come out. Leonardo can predict everything i’m going to say. Raphael is…. Well he’s not scary at all. And Michealangelo has Dr Delicate Touch.

She’s just a bit startling.

[autistic-donnie-tello]

Chapter 3 is live!

[daflangstlairde-art]

lightning in our fingertips today

Work 1 of DFL's Whumptober 2024

Summary:

Donnie and Leo get hit with a wayward body swap spell. You could say it gives Donnie a new perspective on the matters of his dear twin. When was Leo going to tell them that his Ninpō hurts him?

—

Chapter 1

It was an autistic nightmare, sure. While yes, Donnie felt like a god in physical form on good days, on bad days, he barely dealt with his own body. Especially after the Invasion. He shuddered.

And now–

“Duudeee, you seriously have to take this thing off more!” his own voice teased in Leo’s cadence, and the softshell turtle body let out an exaggerated sigh as he put down Donnie’s battle shell. 

Donnie stared at him, as he moved over to take his battle shell. Dang it, it shouldn’t just be put down in the living room, he has a specific place for it.

“Man, this is still totally boggling Raph’s mind,” Raph commented. He hadn’t stopped looking between them and addressing them incorrectly the whole way back from the mission to their Lair. 

“Eh, I’m sure it’s got an easy fix or something,” Leo shrugged with Donnie’s shoulders, unconcerned. 

Donnie stared at him, holding the battle shell close. Fingers flexing with a phantom memory.

“Oooohh, maybe I can magic you up!” Mikey wriggled his fingers in their general direction. 

“No way Mikes, let’s leave this up to Draxum, huh?” Leo countered. 

“Yeah Mikey, your hands are still recovering,” Raph reminded, and Mikey let out a dejected-slash-annoyed grunt.

Oh, perfect opportunity, Donnie cleared his throat. 

“Right, Mikey’s hands,” he started smoothly, and eugh it was weird to hear Leo’s voice from his own mouth– “speaking of, uh, Leo, can we–”

“Oh, truuee!” Leo grins with Donnie’s face, and starts doing carpal tunnel stretches in the middle of their living room. “Now I can finally prevent you from ruining your own!” 

Donnie huffed at yet another change of topic. Was Leo seriously unaware? Or was he doing this on purpose? 

Donnie tried to bring this up several times ever since the Hidden City mission that caused this whole Freaky Friday situation (on a Tuesday, no less). 

Some overly-confident-but-otherwise-clearly-inexperienced wizard with a staff violently going wild. It wasn't even the mage herself that was the culprit; the staff seemed to be firing off on its own. Not really important. They just grabbed the staff from her. 

But not before Leo jumped to block a wayward spell, causing him and Donnie to get the ol’ switcheroo in the middle of the whole thing. And sure, at first, it was jarring! Then, at second, it was kind of fun, actually. Leo laughed and rolled with it, and amidst the action and all, it gave Donnie the thrill to also roll with it. They are twins after all, much as he denies it for The Drama. 

And then... at third... 

Donnie stared at the sight of Leo, in his body, retreating to med bay to inspect for injuries. 

When they got switched, Donnie had been in the middle of a swing with his bō, a Ninpō construct of a hammer at the end. 

When they got switched, Leo continued the arc of the swing, smoothly. This gave Donnie, ever the curious scientist ready to experiment within new circumstances, an idea. 

And he swung Leo’s sword. 

And that is when he felt it. 

Mikey’s hands, hah. Ironic. Donnie flexed his fingers again, shuffling the battle shell to one arm. He looked at his free hand—Leo’s hand. Like there would be any indicatory, enlightening wounds, which of course, there were not. He rubbed the fingertips together, remembering the feeling. It's like it lingered still.

When was Leo going to tell them that his Ninpō hurts him?

—

Well! One positive of this body switch thing: Donnie could be sure Leo would check them both over for injuries, and do it well. Since one was Donnie’s body and the other was, currently, Donnie’s perception. 

As Leo was doing now, in med bay. Standing in front of Donnie, in Donnie’s body. Donnie sat on the gurney, going along with the examination. Leo clicked off the light, and Donnie blinked to clear his vision. 

“No concussion,” Leo commented, and oh, that’s good. His shell—an actual, hard-scute carapace—and his right shoulder were a bit achy, but if Leo found nothing wrong, it was probably regular fight aftermath and would all be gone by tomorrow.

Donnie had never before questioned whether Leo treated himself medically as well as he did with them. But, well. 

Donnie looked back down at his hands—Leo’s hands—rubbing the fingertips together, frowning.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” Leo said, in Donnie’s voice but in his own manner, very odd. The words lilted all the wrong directions, down instead of up. They even spoke with slightly different registers. He patted Donnie on the shell, getting up. 

Donnie had never questioned Leo’s care of himself before, but this situation made a lot of new queries pop up. 

Did Leo’s mystic powers hurt him? Or was this a consequence of Donnie being in his body? Or, if it was a regular thing for Leo—since when? Since always? Since they unlocked their Ninpō? Or was it some sort of recent development?

And, more upsettingly, if it was a regular thing... why did Leo never say anything? How did they never notice? Donnie wracked his memory, but not a single peep about it arose. No complaining, no jokes, no flinch or wince, no stutter when summoning up a portal (except back when his portals were at their most... faulty), nothing. Not a single thing. 

Perhaps– perhaps Donnie really was just making far-fetched assumptions. Classic Donnie overthink! It was most likely just a side effect of the body swap—their Ninpō was a reflection of themselves, it was unfitting and unnatural to use someone else’s, surely. He wasn’t even sure why he’d considered the option! 

(“Casey, when I get to the other side, you close that door–”

Staring upwards, shellshocked. 

Color and light and debris hurling as a portal snaps shut.)

Donnie’s breaths were shallow and perfectly measured, and he–

“Dee?” his own voice questioned, and Donnie blinked, clearing his throat and pushing himself to his feet. He was faced with his own questioning eyebrow arch. Man, that really did look great. What an occasion, to truly witness oneself from an external point of view. Fascinating!

“I’m good, I’m good, no concussion,” he affirmed. 

“You’re spacey,” Leo pointed out, arranging his stuff in med bay. Which was hilarious, considering he left a mess literally everywhere else. But med bay? Always stocked up and organized. 

...Well. Hm. Thinking about it... Leo’s room was... cleaner recently, too. Or perhaps that wasn’t the most precise of descriptors. More... neater. Far less clutter. 

Far less trinkets and colorful posters. Odd.

Anyway. Wow, Donnie’s face was expertly skeptical. 

Donnie rolled his eyes. Leo’s eyes. The eyes that were currently under his temporary ownership, responsibility and control. 

“Yeah, I was... thinking,” he said casually. 

“Uh, yeah, when aren’t you?” Leo joked, his lighthearted grin cracking over Donnie’s face. 

Donnie generously ignored that, because he had questions to dig out answers for. 

“Hey, you kinda used my Ninpō during that fight, right?” he started. 

“Sort of, I guess,” Leo shrugged, closing the cabinet and leaning on it relaxed to face Donnie.

“Did it hurt?” 

“No.”

And then. 

“Yeah, a little, now that I think about it,” Leo tapped his chin, casual, easy. No tells whatsoever. Donnie scrutinized him. Absolutely zero deviation from his regular mannerisms. Heck, he somehow made them sit comfortably even in Donnie’s body.

But. 

But Donnie had caught that. The immediate denial. He narrowed his eyes at his twin.

There were two options: 

Leo had not felt the pain, and it was specific to Donnie using Leo’s mystic ability; 

Or Leo had felt the pain, and his immediate reflex was to lie about it. 

Donnie had absolutely no clue which one was the truth. At his sides, he rubbed his fingers together, reflecting. 

It was sharp. Like a shock. But a... shock from a very tiny blade. But if a small blade could cover the entire surface of his hands. His fingertips and palms, gripping the katana’s hilt. 

“Did you?” Leo asked, approaching and reaching a hand to take Donnie’s current ones, probably to check them over. 

Ack. Welp, can’t really get out of this one. 

“Yes, a little,” Donnie said, offering his—Leo’s—hands for inspection. Oh, wait, this was a perfect opportunity! Leo was actually engaging the conversation instead of deflecting! “Does it usually–”

“‘Course not, imagine that,” Leo laughed, gently rubbing and prodding his fingers and palms. No pain. 

“...Huh, I... guess it must be from the switch,” 

“Oohh yeeaahh yeah yeah yeah!” Leo nodded, “Totally, you’re so right,” 

...Very weird to hear that from Donnie’s mouth, but, okay.

—

All things considered, dinner was pretty normal. Sure, Donnie’s body felt... weird, and their brothers kept getting them confused, prompting a quick mask switch. Donnie also took his goggles and arm brace. 

Seeing Leo’s blue bandana on his own face, and with no additional eyebrows, was incredibly... well. Donnie never quite understood the feeling of “uncanny valley”, but he was now getting a Bachelor's. Maybe he'd experienced something similar when seeing humans for the first time? But he’d been so young, it had been easy for his mind to adapt and roll with it. They're mutants and they engage with all manner of other sapient and non-sapient and of-questionable-sapience beings—he doesn't pick up on facial expressions on all of them equally. 

Not the point.

Point is, he was watching his body, with Leo’s cut mask and Leo’s mannerisms, across the table. But Leo appeared... unbothered, really. Behavior: standard. Which seemed to be putting everyone else at ease. 

Donnie wondered how he looked from the outside. He tried to imagine Leo’s body with his own posture and expressions, and it just felt... uncomfortable. They're twins, so a lot of their attitude often overlaps—to the point where their brothers call it creepy sometimes. But when it differs? It differs. Kind of like when Donnie messed with their brains and accidentally overdosed them with his personal brand of Neurodivergence™, but... in reverse. Mmmmkind of.

But! Right now, they were just eating pizza, with Mikey showing them videos of a new Youtube channel he got into. Uhh something about scrapbooking or journaling?? And Donnie actually felt quite hungry, so he was just... eating.

Everyone was just... sort of alright with the current situation. It's just a thing that is. Draxum will fix it. And if he doesn't, they'd find a way. Compared to the world ending due to an alien invasion, this seemed banal. 

“Hey hey hey, dudes, watch this,” Leo caught their attention, waving his hands and getting up. Then, with Donnie’s voice and way too accurately in Donnie’s style, he leaned back and crossed his arms, saying “Eugh, this pizza has cheese? That is way too much flavor for moi’s precious taste!” 

Oh so that's how it was going to be, huh? 

“That's not how you use moi,” Donnie said dryly. 

“That's not how you use moi,” Leo parroted, in Donnie’s voice, just as dry. With just a toooouchh of mockery in it, and their dual-trademark smirk. Raph and Mikey, the traitors, giggled and cackled.

Donnie leaned back, a hand to his plastron—Leo’s plastron—for The Drama™. 

“Well I, your lea-dur, say it isn't flavorful enough!” he stated with a swooping tone. “Put some kiwi on there! Throw in a couple marshmallows too, for good measure!” he declared, making their other two brothers laugh. 

“I prefer mine with radiation,” Leo said primly, sticking Donnie’s snout up, making Mikey chortle.

“Careful, it may mutate you,” Donnie warned kindly, trying to mimic Leo’s way of speech from memory, “And then you might actually gain a second brain cell,”

It... hm. Yes, they teased each other, yes, it was banter. Raph and Mikey wooped, they started placing bets, and Donnie and Leo did increasingly stupider impressions of each other, and it was fun.

But it didn’t... feel right. Now that Donnie was seeing everything through a new perspective—quite literally—Leo was acting... odd. Unusual, as in, outside of what Donnie grew used to being Leo. He was only noticing it now, when Leo’s face and his voice couldn’t deceive him that it’s still Leo, of course he’s acting like himself.

Leo didn’t escalate it. Not really. He didn’t go for the throat. He didn’t go Full Silly. His entire demeanor felt... dampened, which was really, really weird for their Always Full-Max Silly brother.

...Oooorrr Donnie was just being weirded out by watching his own face and body move externally and out of his control. 

— 

Donnie felt nausea upon going to bed, but that's alright. Stomach upset sounded like a reasonable side effect of being body swapped. The pizza sat heavy. 

His shoulder and shell were still cramping, too, even after he'd done some stretches. Eh. Not like he isn't used to some cramping or whatevs. 

It just... felt like he couldn't get comfortable in his bed. Maybe it was the hard carapace, he'd theorize, but it's not like he hasn't slept in his battle shell before which, sure, wasn't exactly snuggly, but he'd still been able to sleep. 

He tossed. He turned. His eyes—Leo’s eyes—felt a little buzzy, like the melodic hum of electricity all around, so it's not like he wasn't sleepy. And it felt like there was a... some sort of weight on his chest. He couldn't decide whether his blankets were too warm or not warm enough.

Donnie sighed, rubbing his face. Leo’s face. Weiiirddd. 

He turned on his side yet again, to check the time on his epic purple analog clock. 

00:23 p.m. 

Not even that late. And yet it felt like the night was stretching endless. A liminal space. He turned to lay on his plastron. Leo’s plastron. The weight there persisted. Hm. Hopefully Leo wasn't having lung issues. Just in case, Donnie inhaled. Long and deep, feeling the air pass through his nostrils. Until he felt his lungs stretch and strain. 

Nope. That felt like a pleasantly deep inhale. No whistling, no obstruction, nothing. 

Strange thing: Donnie’s room smelled like... him. It smelled like Donnie. Which... shouldn't be surprising. But usually you can't smell your own scent, due to being exposed to it constantly, and therefore being entirely desensitized. 

Donnie couldn't smell Leo’s, right now. Yet he could smell what he could only, logically, deduce was his own scent. Or at least that of his room.

Metals and plastics and other materials. Soldering. Ever so slightly—pen and marker ink. The bed sheets. Something specific he could not quite describe.

It... wasn't a bad smell, he was pleasantly surprised to note. He could see how this smell could be comforting, even. Familiar and homey and secure. He pulled the blanket a little tighter around himself, curling into himself. Yawned. Buried his face—Leo’s face—into his pillow. 

...

Simultaneously, the weight in his chest both loosened, just a little, and ached more. His shoulders—Leo’s shoulders—felt too wide, his thighs too thin, his back... weird. He curled his toes.

Donnie wondered if... there was something he needed. Something the body needed, that he just couldn't analyze and figure out. Water? Food? 

...No, no it didn't feel like any of those, even though he was not an expert on the matter. He’d practically just eaten, too. Maybe it was the ache in his shoulder and his shell that was off-putting? 

...You know what! There could be a simple, obvious solution to this. Donnie grabbed his phone. 

The smarter twin™: I can't sleep and I feel weird

The smarter twin™: Is there something I'm missing for your body

It was immediately seen.

Yapper boy™: lol

Yapper boy™: cmere

The smarter twin™: ???

Yapper boy™: youkl see

The smarter twin™: SIGH

Donnie sighed, for realz, rubbing his eyes. He hated it when–

...Hm. Well, actually. Thinking about it.

Leo hasn't really done the very annoying “not telling them the plan” that he used to do. Not since the Invasion. Only really for silly stuff. 

Huh.

You could say this situation was giving Donnie a new perspective, zing. He was really seeing the world through different eyes, ha! 

He grinned a little, wrapping the blanket around himself. Time to go tell these to Leo and then gloat how he had been the one to think of them first, because he is hilarious. 

Leo immediately opened his arms upon Donnie’s arrival, smirking, and huh.

Huh. 

The press of another’s body helped tremendously with that... weight. With the odd sensation of misplacement. Like everything slotted into place as easily as slotting into an embrace. Literally. 

This wasn't much like Donnie. Sure, it's not that he hated physical contact—was quite the fan of it, really, unless he was actively upset. Or if it was from somebody who wasn't his loved ones. He wondered what brought on this new craving. Leo’s body?

...Strange.

Leo never came to them to snuggle. 

Even though he was a huge cuddle-bug before. But not anymore, evidently.

Donnie, ever-so-discreetly, frowned at that. 

...When did that happen? 

—

When he woke up, the light pain in his right shoulder and that one crick at his shell—Leo’s shell—remained. 

Donnie grunted, rolling sort of on his side, sort of on his back, digging his heels into the mattress and rolling his shoulders. Pushed himself up, smacking his lips, blinking. Rubbed his eyes. Yawned.

Eugh, his breath was rancid. 

“Do you ever brush your teeth,” he muttered, jarred to hear his voice sounding so different. Right, right. Body swap. 

He was a little surprised to hear an off-tone chuckle, and he properly cracked his eyes open. Oh huh, Leo—in his body—was, in fact, still here. He looked to have been awake for a bit. He was scrolling on his phone, but clicked it off and put it to the side now. 

“It's a waste of time, I've got so much leadering to do,” Leo joked, also pushing himself up and stretching. 

Donnie rolled his shoulder, trying to rub it a little to see if that’d relieve the persistent ache. It didn't. He yawned again. 

Leo got up, snatching a hoodie to put on.

“My battle shell is–”

“I know, D,” Leo cut him off. “I’ll go get it in a mo. Your shell just feels weird bare,” he shuddered theatrically. “Like a lizard,” 

“Yeah, well, yours feels like a badly fitting box,” Donnie fired back. “Box boy,” 

Leo gasped. “My curves! You wound me,” he dramaticized himself out the room, and Donnie chuckled. 

That just left him. Still sitting in Leo’s bed, in Leo’s body.

He should get up. Right.

It just. Felt... like... mmm. Not fun? 

He... doesn't usually have this pause before getting up. Usually he's itching to get out of bed and get back to whatever ongoing project he has. 

He stared at Leo’s room, still sitting there on Leo’s bed. 

...Dang. Leo’s room... was cleaner. Hm, well, again, maybe not cleaner. 

...

Emptier. Where did his many posters go...? Now there were only two left. One of Lou Jitsu, and one of Jupiter Jim. 

...Welp, Donnie wasn't going to judge his brother’s turn to the light (tidiness)! 

Now he just had to get up. 

...Except... there was a new weight. Was it Leo’s shell? Was he not used to the weight of a natural, irremovable carapace? Weird. 

That didn't ring very plausible, because the weight wasn't at his back. It was... it was... 

Chest. Legs. Everywhere. Making it difficult to break the position he hunched over in the longer he remained in it, a vicious cycle. 

He just had to get up! Go and brush his teeth so his mouth didn't taste foul. Get water to drink. Coffee, perhaps breakfast, even though he did not feel that hungry. Maybe. He wasn't sure. There was just a prodding in his stomach. 

Ugh.

Thinking about it all made the weight worse. It felt like standing on that rooftop, looking up at the Technodrome. Raph lost. No plan, no direction, no hope. Nothing. And now, no Leo to turn around with a crazy idea that nonetheless inspired some desperate hope within. 

Just weight. Just... dread. Anticipatory exhaustion at the awaiting cardio. 

Why was he feeling like this?

In the end, Mikey called him for breakfast and that aided in kicking his buttocks out of bed. 

—

Donnie didn’t feel much like eating this morning, so, he wasn’t eating much. It wasn’t unusual for him. Mikey knew not to be hurt by it. Donnie was focusing on some fruit. 

Leo was eating normal as ever. He was smiley and fresh as ever. Which were strange observations. Not things you’d pay mind to. But Donnie was. He wasn’t sure why, but he was paying a little more attention to Leon after their switcheroo. 

Leo was hurt after the Invasion, but he’d bounced right back up. In fact, he’d bounced back up faster than any of them. In fact, he’d bettered himself.

Case in point, 

“So when’s Draxum coming by with his magic whatever-there?” Leo said, in Donnie’s voice, slurping on a smoothie. 

Readily asking for Draxum’s presence. Donnie would bet it was for his sake, not due to Leo having a sudden change of heart about the man. 

“A little later!” Mikey answered. “Why, is something bothering you??” 

“Nah, not really,” Leo shrugged. “I just want to go back to feeling happiness looking at the mirror,” he teased, and Donnie rolled his eyes. “Plus I’m sure D can’t be enthused about this,”

“Meh,” Donnie shrugged. “Honestly? It is not as abhorrent as you’d imagine,”

Leo looked at him, just for a second. Over too quickly for Donnie to pay proper attention to it and to then analyze it. 

“Wanna know whose body would be super cool to warp into?” Leo brought up. 

“Oh! Oh!” Mikey waved his hand up like he’s in a school classroom, grinning, “Lou Jitsu?”

“Lou Jitsu, babeeyyy!”

It was half an hour later that Donnie realized just how smoothly Leo had diverted the conversation. 

(And only later would it occur to him it might’ve been intentional.)

That half an hour later just so happened to include Donnie’s alarm blaring.

“Oohh, a crime,” he stated, checking the info to rattle off the relevant code. 

“Alright team, let's roll!” Leo exclaimed easily, his energy immediately bouncing off the rest of the team, everyone going off to grab their weapons. 

...Wait. 

Their... weapons, oh, boy, uh, well Donnie had leagues more experience with a bō, buuut they never tested if they can access their own Ninpō like this, ah, dang–

That question was quickly answered by Leo skidding to his lab. 

“Dude, you would not believe this–”

“You can't access your Ninpō? Yes, me neither,” Donnie agreed, already holding his bō out for Leo to take. “You know how to use it?” 

“...Well if I don't, I'm about to learn real quick,” Leo was grinning with his face, “Portal us in, leader in purple!” he tossed his katanas to Donnie, and Donnie scrambled to catch them by the hilts and not roughly in the middle i.e. where he would catch a bō staff. 

Hoo boy was this about to be an experience. 

At least like this Donnie needn’t relay the location information to his portal-able brother, because now he was the portal-able brother. 

Now all he had to do was make a portal. A proper one, with concentration. 

And with that same shock-burn to his hands. 

Hhhngh. Well! At least getting lightly (or medium-level) electrocuted wasn't a new experience for him! Honestly, Donnie wasn't sure why it was so hhhngh to him. It should be familiar as anything. 

Perhaps he was overthinking it. Classic. But judging by his scanners, they had to get to the scene now. 

So as Mikey and Raph joined in on their huddle, Donnie sucked in a breath and slashed the swords through the air in one of the ways he's seen Leo do. 

“No, you gotta put more juice into it,” Leo commented oh so helpfully upon the nothing that took place. 

“Ah, thank you, such constructive critique,” Donnie deadpanned, hands gripping the hilts. Ugh. He'd already struggled with one set of mystic powers, now he had to figure out another?! 

...Hmm, y'know, that might be a good idea. Donnie thought back to his own arduous mystic journey. 

He never quite managed to get the hang of “just do it”. It didn't come naturally to him, not in the same way it appeared to with his brothers. 

But Donnie focused on the same feeling that helped get his Ninpō thrumming. Acknowledging the facts: that this was something he could do for his family, to help them, to boost them, and he liked helping and boosting them. Even now it pushed this not-unpleasant tightness at his chest that made him want to shake his hands and chuckle a bit. 

In the same rhythm, a glow crawled up the blades. 

“Oh, uh, also you gotta think about exactly where you wanna go,” Leo mentioned, and now that was actually useful guidance. “And where you are and the distance between the two. And, y'know, the size of the hole you're shredding. Ooh, and also the angle and where it's facing, and–” 

“Jeez, do you seriously think about all that when making portals?” Mikey was staring at their– well, their current soft-shelled brother, which, huh. Good point. Now they were all looking at Leo, who shrugged, nonchalant as ever.

“Donnie, portal,” Leo snapped his fingers, and right! Right, crime! 

(Another diversion Donnie only caught later, when he thought back to it.) 

“Right!” he slashed the blades through the air, and then once more with the crackle of mystic energy and–

Donnie yelped as the electricity-like pain bit down on his hands, immediately dropping the swords to the ground. Gah! It was worse the second time around! 

Leo snorted and clapped his back, hopping into the portal that hung before them. And he did need to hop, it wasn't particularly large, oh boy, Donnie sure hoped Raph would be able to fit through.

[personne-reblogs]

AUTISTIC SWEEP

The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise. 

The curtains are closing. 

The lights are dimming. 

The air still feels filled with static, though. 

This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings. 

Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.

He lets out a genuine chuckle. 

Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight. 

“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”

The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it. 

“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles. 

“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”

He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky. 

“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”

Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.” 

“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”

Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought. 

“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”

“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”

Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”

“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”

--------------------------

In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient. 

The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment. 

The crowd is gone. 

The curtains are closed. 

The lights are off. 

For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.

--------------------------

EDIT: there is now a sequel!

YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE

Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol

CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)

@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!

All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU

[jadethebluereblogs]

Ooooooh thank you for the tag ^^ this looks so fun

I haven’t really found anyone I super kin yet and apparently I dont come across on here like I do irl so idk how accurate this will seem hahaha

@strawberrysaucereblogs @poetique823 @truths33k3r4 and anyone else who wants to join ^^

Not me having some kinda type... Who shall I tag? I think I wanna tagggggg... @mybugsmybugsmybugs @mexicangela @lunar-years @biscuitboxpink but no pressure!! I just thought it would be fun!

[torturedblue]

Part 2 of endless Disaster Twin parallels, the not so fun version

Part 1, the fun version

Considering the series shows Donnie coming off as autistic, he’s portrayed that way much more in fan art and fanfics, etc. We often see it in fan portrayals through an aversion to touch or his senses getting overwhelmed, etc. In the show I noticed Leo actually has a consistent aversion to anything with a gross texture too: like in the first episode when they’re all sliding down Draxum’s vines and he’s tripping over himself, the only one bothered by them “I hate this!”

He also starts flailing in a panic after a worm jumps on his face (and do I even need to bring up how the texture of worms ain’t all that enjoyable let alone on your face), recoils when that evil Hidden City massage guy pours hair serum all over his head, and he’s the most visibly repulsed when Raph gets trash all over them in the beginning of Battle Nexus: New York. So on multiple occasions he comes off as pretty texture or germ averse as well

Both also have insecurity issues about their role to the team: “If mystics can do everything I can but better then why would you guys even need me?” “I’m nothing without them!”

Ironically, in Many Unhappy Returns, Splinter thinks Leo doesn’t know what he’s doing and isn’t taking the mission seriously, saying he should’ve brought Purple. But in the same episode during fights with Shredder Donnie’s seen texting on his phone half of the time. Which is also very parallel to Leo making quips in the beginning instead of helping fight like Donnie and the others

In that same fashion, Donnie’s also goofiest when everyone’s acting serious in Insane in the Mama Train, while Leo’s the unserious one in the following episodes. Another role reversal from their norm

The show also portrays these two as feeling the most affected by Splinter’s history of emotionally distant parenting. Donnie constantly talks about his unmet need for parent-aged-adult approval/validation, and Leo shows his struggle in a more Leo-like way, constantly finding father figure connections in other people like Jupiter Jim and The Dunk. He also rejects/roasts Splinter a lot too, which seems more like a form of overcompensation; acting like he doesn’t totally need or crave Splinter’s attention. The exact opposite of Donnie’s methods. “No! I’m not going back to what’s-his-rat.”

“He’s my all-time favorite actor/role model/father figure!”

“That eccentric billionaire, who was kind of a surrogate father figure to me, has shown me a version of myself I don’t like.”

Leo acts like he doesn’t pine for his affection. I’m sure he sees the way Donnie openly, desperately goes after it when it’s offered and then gets crushed even harder with disappointment (ahem Turtle-dega Nights). No way Leo’s opening himself up to that. I mean come on how sad is the moment when Splinter says they should do something together and Mikey is so eager to jump on the opportunity before it gets taken away, only for Donnie to have to pull him aside and remind him it’s usually some kind of trick or he’s likely possessed? Just for Mikey to immediately respond, “You’re right, I always fall for this!” Ouch. Honestly considering Mikey’s empathy and emotional maturity in mind, the reason both he and Raph seem to handle Splinter’s lack of attention so well is probably also because in addition Raph became a second parent himself, and taking on that role like Splinter, he knows from his own experience that even though their dad doesn’t show it in the ways they wish he would, of course he loves them and what he does do to take care of them as a parent proves that

I think the parallels and direct contrasts between how Leo and Donnie show their dissatisfaction in their relationship with Splinter is probably the most developed and interesting one to me 💔

I mean Leo’s the only one who would actually say something like this to Splinter and you can’t tell me there’s not some deep-seated resentment in the way he looks and the way he says it…

So yeah. There’s the sad edition of Disaster Twins parallels. Let’s all cry together 😃

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

↳ summary: you befriend a cat and somehow end up having to save new york in the process. or; a reader insert of season two episode twelve, of rats and men

↳ warnings: some mentions of violence, and one slight sexual innuendo

↳ notes: part two to this tmnt series that i'm doing. reader is autistic and a bitch. again, it can be read as a stand alone, but it's more enjoyable if you read these in order. once again, mainly a reader insert with a slight lean to a budding relationship between donnie & reader. can be with any other turtle if you want

↳ song: turtle power—partners in kryme

part one | next part | masterlist! | commissions! | carrd

"I know they said that pizza was gluten free, but I definitely tasted gluten."

The cold wind of a New York afternoon nipped at your heels as you meandered down the sidewalk, three figures in tow. Rocks and stray bits of litter dotted the crooked sidewalk, occasionally brushing an untied shoestring of yours.

It was the weekend. A time when school was at the back of your mind and pizza in the front. You had been called up by April this morning whilst lounging in bed, a sense of urgency in her voice as she invited you out with her and Casey for lunch. From the sound of it, she had been asked on a not-date-date again and was relying on you to break the ice. And since you were such a good friend, you changed out of your ratty pajamas to catch up, cursing teenage love under your breath all the way.

It was only after pulling up to Antonio's with a blank expression that you'd saw Irma loitering outside at the same time, tossing a limp wave to her as you both headed in to join your collective friends. Predictably, Casey hadn't been very happy to see either of you, and you responded by politely sticking him with the bill.

Now the four of you were walking aimlessly. Not in the direction of anyone's apartment, which was to assume that you knew where Irma lived. Which you didn't. You weren't sure you were on that level of friendship with her; or any level of friendship really.

Caseys bike ached and creaked with age as he pushed it along beside him. Occasionally you'd find yourself looking back at it, as if expecting it to fall to pieces at any moment. You wonder how long he'd had it for; and why he insited on bringing it along with him if he thought this would have been a romantic getaway. Maybe he was hoping to go on a couples ride or something. The thought of it made you smile wryly.

"Thanks for hanging out with us on our date, Irma." Casey cleared his throat, sending a dry look the purple haired girls way. "We really needed a chaperone."

At that last bit he sent a pointed look April's way, who whistled as she pretended to hear nothing.

"Anything I can do to help." Irma responded, nonplussed.

"Who said that was supposed to be a date, Jones?" You questioned whilst playing with your hoodie strings. "Pretty sure I heard April call it a hang out when she asked me to come."

You heard the squeak of his bike hesitate before continuing, most likely taking your words with a grain of salt.

He might have responded to your poking with some of his own, if a sudden shadow hadn't darted out onto the sidewalk, stopping Casey dead in his tracks.

The beady red eyes of a rat stared curiously at you all as the hockey player jumped three feet in the air, immediately pushing his bike out in front of him as a makeshift barrier. It skittered off once deciding you weren't of any use, dissapearing down a sewer drain.

"I can't belive someone as big as you is afraid of a little rat!" Irma smirked. Or smiled. You could never tell with her. Casey just frowned in response, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well I can't belive that rat was afraid of this adorable kitty!" April kneeled to the ground inbetween Casey and Irma's bickering, picking up a mangy tabby that looked like it had seen better days. It yowled a little at her touch, squirming uncomfortably. You hadn't seen the animal before, but now there was no doubt in your mind that that's what the rat was running from.

"Give it here." You held your hand out to April, then hesitated and repeated yourself in a more softer tone. She looked at the cat and then you before shrugging, handing it over.

Immediately after securing your hold, you picked it up by the scruff. It's fussing ceased, and you took the moment to run a hand down it's neck, all the way to the back of it's tail. After a moment or two, it began to purr like a well oiled machine, leaning into you.

"Wow! You're really good with animals." April awed with her hands clasped.

"Not really. Raph tried to kill me when I first met him." You offhandedly mentioned, still running a concentrated hand down the cats back.

"Who's Raph? Is that your dog?"

You stilled as Casey and April exchanged nervous looks. No one answered Irma's question for a second, surely garnering suspicion from the fourth party.

"Uh, sure Irma. My dog."

"Hm." She pushed her glasses up and squinted at you. "What breed is he?"

You blinked. Your hand came down on the cat a bit harsher this time, resulting in a hiss to sound.

"He's a poodle!" April cut in. "Now can we get a move on? It's getting kind of cold." She looked happy to change the subject, even faking a shiver for effect.

"Sure. Your place this time April?" Irma said as she smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles along her skirt.

"Actually, I was hoping me and Red here could head off. You know. Alone." Casey slung an arm around April with a less than genuine gap toothed smile.

"If alone means with me and April, then yeah." You didn't miss the way April tossed you thankful look as you spoke. "We've got to find some place for this cat, and I'm not exactly fond of bringing it home to my parents. They've already got their hands full with, er, Raph."

Irma stared at you all unimpressed. April tossed her a sheepish smile while hopping on the back of Casey's bike; the former looking happy at the premise of her holding his waist. You just rolled your eyes.

"Sure. I'll walk beside you guys. No biggie."

"Hey, did you want to be the one to hold onto Casey's back?"

"Nevermind. Carry on."

The three of you parted from Irma, tossing seperate waves of your own back at the girl as she grew farther away. Her deadpan look never once faded.

"So. We're all thinking of bringing this to the guys, right?"

April and you nodded at Casey, immediately steering towards the closest alleyway as soon as Irma could no longer be seen. The cat stiffened in your arms at the change in scenery. With a gentle whisper to settle down, you scratched behind its ears. A cough was the thing to break you out of the little trance.

"Having fun you two?" Casey said smugly. You glared at him as he parked his bike and leaned it against an alley wall.

"Stuff it, Jones." You flipped him off the best you could with a cat in your arms, starting forward to where April was wrestling with the manhole.

None of you heard the distant scream as you slid the cover open, sliping into total darkness.

You had come to expect an overwhelming greeting anytime you showed up.

Mikey launched himself out of Donnie's lab the second he'd heard your voice. Nevermind that you were talking with Leo, nodding your approval at the showing of Space Heros on TV. You weren't even sure that Mikey registered that. Once he had his sights set on something, he was like a missile. A very loud very playful missile.

No sooner than stepping a foot into the living room, you were tackled with a exhale of air, falling over while somehow managing to keep the cat from clawing your face off. An impressive feat if you do say so yourself.

"You're back!" Mikey screamed your name, hitting his forehead on your chest with a frantic smile. "We thought we'd scared you off!"

After a few weak growls for him to 'get the fuck of of me Michelangelo', you stood up and brushed yourself off. Mikey bounced excitedly all around you, thankfully not touching. You might have kicked him if he did.

"Dont worry bud. It'll take a lot more than just some mushrooms to get rid of me." You eventually answered, looking very unsurprised for someone that had just been tackled by two hundered pounds of turtle.

"Yeah! I bet you eat mushrooms for breakfast!" Mikey struck a very crude ninja pose. Something that almost made you laugh, considering he was an actual ninja.

"That's what humans do, Mikey. They literally eat mushrooms with their breakfast." Leo called from the couch. You couldn't see his face from where you were standing, but you could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice.

"Oh."

"I know what you meant. Don't worry dude." You waved it off. Mikeys smile returned in no time flat, and you could see questions about the cat bubbling in his throat as he moved on. You were quick to start moving, not really up for a tirade of questions at the moment.

The turtle skipped after you as you headed in the direction of Donatello's lab. His door was still ajar from when Mikey had sprung out of it, and you could hear the faint clinking of lab equipment drifting from it.

"Did anyone order a flea infested cat?" You said as you strolled in, ignoring the many warning signs plastered around the room screaming at you to not enter.

You watched as Donnie looked up from whatever he was doing with a glowing green beaker, face breaking out into a smile at the sight of you. For a moment you did your best attempt to smile back, and it seemed to only increase the size of his. At least before his eyes dropped to the animal you were holding.

"Hey hey hey! Don't bring that thing in here!" His arms immediately shot out to cover any of the open substances he was dealing with. You paid no mind to him, just strolling over to the opposite side of his desk and leaning against it.

"What. The cat or Mikey?"

"Both!"

"Hey!" Mikey whined and pouted at you, still evidently hot on your trail. You snickered, continuing your stroking of the cat that had haulted earlier.

Donnie took one more look between you and the stray before sighing. He seemingly gave up before turning back to his work, probably glad you were entertaining Mikey for a bit. It always seemed to go that way when you came down here.

"So Mike." You watched Mikey stick his tounge out at you at the nickname and you mirrored him. "How do you feel about getting a new pet?"

"Seriously!" He gasped. Donnie stiffened from where he was sitting but didn't turn around.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "We found him up top, and he seems to be tame enough. You might want to make sure he gets some shots though. For worms and all."

You knew everything you were saying was going one ear and out the other for Michelangelo as he reached out to pluck the cat from your arms.

"Aww look at you!" He gushed before proceeding to spout ooey gooey nonsense at the animal. You faked vomiting.

"And Donnie?" You yawned as you felt the after effects of lunch taking hold of you, stretching your arms above your head. "Before you ask, yes, April's here."

You didn't even need to turn around to know that the crashing sound was probably Donnie falling out of his chair with a dopey smile.

"So is Casey." You finished with a slight smirk. Looking back, Donnie glared at you as he pulled himself up, cheeks still tinted red.

"You just had to add that part in last didn't you?"

"Save the best for last as they say!" The confident call of Casey came from the doorway. You looked over to see him leaning against it, trying his best to look what he most likey thought was cool as April strolled right past him.

"Hey my dudes!" Mikey popped up from somewhere behind you to wave frantically at them. He was holding ice cream for some reason now. You'd learned not to question his ways a long time ago.

"I see you've already introduced them to the little guy we found on the streets." April smiled. You rolled your eyes as Donatello made heart eyes at her, stuttering something out about how charitable she was.

"Can we keep her Donnie?" An excited Mikey squealed.

"You know, Master Splinter is a rat." The question from his brother seemed to snap some temporary sense into Donatello, turning in place to cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah! What if that cat goes nuts and attacks him? She'll feed off his body for months!"

"Thanks for the visual, Casey." You walked over to flick him on the crown of his head. A few panicked noises and thumps came from behind you, but you were too busy relishing in the look on Casey's face to notice.

"Alright, well you guys have fun. I'm going to raid your fridge." You stuffed your hands in your pockets and rocked on the balls of your feet. Faintly, you noticed Mikey rush out of the room with something in his hands.

"But we just ate?" April tilted her head at you. You smiled at her without any real emotion.

"I never said I was going to eat anything. Just save it for later."

"I guess I'll come with you." Donnie looked at the wall above you, no doubt checking the time. "I could use a break."

"Sure." You shrugged and turned. "You guys going to stick around or—" The last bit was directed at Casey and April, but they just shook their head and began to follow you out. On the way to the kitchen you were all joined by Leo and Raph, eventually reaching the kitchen table.

"Mikey, please for the love of god stop making out with the fridge." You didn't spare anyone a second look before balancing on your tip toes to open a cabinet. Rustling around, you came up with a bag of marshmallows. Letting a celebratory smile loose, you stuffed it in your hoodie pocket for later.

"Master? Are you okay?"

You turned around. True to Leo's question, Splinter was lumbering into the room. And not looking to hot. You noticed he lacked his usual poise. Instead, he was slouching and blinking slowly. He looked groggy, and you wondered for a moment if mutant rats could have nightmares.

"I need ice for my head." He mummbled. "And also. Possibly a cheese-sicle."

"Cheese-sicle?" You asked Casey from the corner of your mouth. He shook his head with a look that told you he knew about as much as you did.

"No sensei! You can't!"

All of you watched as Mikey slammed the freezer door on Splinter. The speed of it took even you by surprise. Either he had become self aware of the cost of electricity, or Mikey'd lost his mind.

"No?" The room seemed to ice over with the amount of coldness in Splinters voice. Your eyes grew big, and you resisted the urge to start snacking on the marshmallows like a bag of popcorn at the movies.

"You tell me no?" Splinter was hissing now. Any joke you would have made flown out the kitchen. Much like Mikey's body as Splinter sent a punch to his plastron.

"Jesus fucking christ!" You scrambled back, your cry getting lost in everyone else's as they yelled with surprise.

Splinter lowered to his arms and legs like a feral animal, and you managed to get a glimpse at his eyes. Normally, they were the exact same color as Donnie's. But now, they were covered in a sharp red film. Much like the rat that had crossed your path not too long ago on the surface.

Everyone scrambled in different directions as Splinter launched himself around the room. You included. You found yourself up on top of the fridge somehow, looking down with eyes as big as saucers at the scene before you. The thought of the tazer you carry with you crossed your mind, but you immediately felt guilty afterward. This was Master Splinter. The one who had made you feel the safest down here after meeting them. And you had just contemplated shocking him.

You didn't have long to feel guilty though. The turtles all eventually wised up and lunged at their master, pinning all four of his limbs to the kitchen table with difficulty. He continued to writhe violently, and a bead of sweat rolled down your neck.

"Would it help if I jumped onto his chest?" You yelled out, trying to find some way to help. You were met with an astounding amount of no's as an answer.

A few more moments of grunting and struggling played out before you. It didn't take long for Splinter, or whatever had taken his place, to gain the upper hand. Kicking everyone away, he sprung up onto his legs again.

"I have got what I came for." A slight echo tinged his voice. "Soon New York, then the world, will be mine!"

It was then he collapsed, and you finally allowed yourself to clamber down from the top of the fridge. Dust littered the bottom of your arms and legs from how you had been clinging onto it.

"Master, are you okay?" Leonardo was the first to approach him. April next, asking the same exact thing. Splinter grunted lowly in response. You waited with baited breath from him to open his eyes.

You let out a sigh when he did. They were back to brown again.

"The Rat King." Splinter uttered somberly. "He has returned."

You noticed everyone but Casey exchange looks with each other, looking very disturbed at this news.

A brief moment of silence. You blinked twice before speaking.

"The rat who?"

The lair's TV screen blared in front of you. Images of giant rats crossed the screen, and your eyes were trained on a very shrewd looking blonde reporter.

You and Casey had been filled in durring the amount of time it took to help Splinter from the kitchen counter to the living room. Tales of mind control, scientists turned into monkeys, and thousands of rats danced around in your head. You looked no worse than Casey at the news, who had done a horrible job at containing his horror when learning about a literal rat army.

You had barely begun to wonder how the news was still on air when a rat launched itself at the reporter. She dropped to the ground with a scream, and the feed cut to static before you were able to see if she was okay.

"Why did it have to be giant rats." Casey moaned as he flopped onto the couch.

"Er, maybe you should sit this one out Casey." April suggested with a wince. Beside you Donatello allowed himself a smile.

"Do you think tazers could take those things down?" You half heartedly asked no one in particular. Raph crossed his arms and shook his head in your peripheral. You slumped from your spot on the floor with a frown. He patted your shoulder hesitantly. Maybe you could kick them to death instead.

"Donnie, are you sure you can't build a giant mouse trap?"

"Please don't subject my intelligence to something so meaningless." Donnie said your name, rolling his eyes as he messed with his t-phone.

"I bet you'd do it if April asked." You spoke into your hand, not caring if he heard. You heard Mikey laugh at that from somewhere in the distance. If he was anywhere near you, you would have offered him a high-five at the backup.

"Alright guys." Leo now was standing in the center of you all with his hands on his hips. He was doing what you called his Captian Ryan pose, and the sight of it made the corner of your lips twitch into a small smile. If you had to bet, he was probably imagining himself as the fictional character right now.

Master Splinter stood off to the side, watching his son. His own mouth was pulled into a tight line, and he looked the most serious you had seen him in a while. You took one more moment to study him before slowly turning back to Leo.

"I have an idea."

If there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that the turtles definitely did not have a driver's license.

A helmet clunked noisily against your head as you raced through downtown New York City. Rain pelted your vision, and you really regretted not asking for a pair of sunglasses ahead of time.

A four person race-cart sat beneath you, the seats filled by you, April, Donnie and Raph. The latter was driving, occasionally making sharp turns that would send you and Donnie clashing against each other respectively. You accidentally nailed him straight in his shell at one point, and now your elbow was throbbing something awful.

Screams floated to you from behind the cart. You knew if you turned your head, you'd see Mikey holding onto a rope and shouting his shell off, skating like his life depended on it. Which, technically, you guess it did.

The final piece de resistance was the giant foam cheese hat strapped to the top of his head. While you got fitted with an orange helmet that smelled faintly of pizza and sweat, he had been wrestled to the ground and forced to wear the yellow abomination. Apparently he was to be the bait for the giant rats, something that you got the feeling happened very often with him. The bait part you mean. Not giant rats. That was only a two time thing.

Casey was biking around somewhere a few blocks off, hitting stray mutants in the snout with his trusty hockey sticks. The only reason you knew he was still alive and kicking was the faint sounds of shrill screams bouncing off surrounding buildings. You might have laughed if you didn't feel like doing the same thing.

Another tight curb sent you face first into Donnie's lap. With a temper as hot as Raph's own, you scrambled up and yelled at the driver to watch it. You didn't even spare a glance at Donnie, skipping over how incredibly red his face had gotten.

"You try steering in this traffic!" Raphael shouted right back at you. You proceeded to make some not so nice gestures with your hands that April frowned at, the rain making you shake slightly in the cold, before falling back into your seat and awaiting part two of the plan. Something you'd named Grab That Turtle.

Mikey eventually got close enough to the bumper where you could grab his hand. With more effort than it would probably take a normal person, you snatched him up and into the cart. The result was a lovely three person dog pile in the back seat; something that you quickly remedied by pinching Mikey in the arms until he got himself and Donnie off of you.

You didn't even stop to yell at them. In exchange for that, you whipped out your tazer to sent a volt of electricity at a rat that had gotten too close, whooping excitedly when it yelped and fell back. It was nothing like what any of the turtles could have done, but that didn't stop you from feeling way too proud of yourself.

Your moment of celebration was cut short only when you noticed that you were no longer in the race-cart.

Cuts formed all along your face and arms as you tumbled out of the cart and to asphalt. You'd never wanted to discover what street tasted like, but you don't think you'd ever be able to forget it now.

Gravel found its way into your mouth and you felt something pop in your back as a slimey paw trodded on you. Before you could even gather enough strength to push yourself onto your hands and knees, a beak that felt too sharp and too precise for a rat closed around your middle.

Preparing for a quick snip and searing pain, you closed your eyes and grit your teeth. When it didn't come, you peaked an eye open. It was with much shock that you realized the rat wasn't attempting you eat you. Rather carry you, it seemed. Granted, it wasn't being the gentlest about it, but neither were you when you zapped it's brother on the neck.

At the thought of your weapon, you squirmed to try and reach it. Your attempts were stopped by the giant bite around you increasing in strength, practically cutting off all circulation in your arms now.

"Jesus! Fine I'll stop!" You snapped. It responded by dropping you and kicking you forward, growling when you hissed at it in pain.

For the second time that day, the world fell out from beneath you. Where the street should have been, a giant hole gaped. In the split second it took for you to fall through it, you recognized it as an entrance into the sewers.

"Urgh." Was all you could manage to say as the giant rat slid down the same hole, landing on you. Something made a loud cracking sound, and it was only after you felt the back of your head that you realized it had been you.

Your hand came back tinted with red. You glared at it before going cross eyed. And then nothing.

You awoke in a cage, next to the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

A spray painted mask stared back at you as you lifted your head up. It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once they did, nausea slapped you in the face.

"God damnit." You groaned and rolled over. You tried not to vomit. Of course Casey had been caught too. Now instead of just him, the turtles had to rescue you too. Way to go.

Before you could say anything else, your mouth was quickly covered. With half a mind to bite him, you growled. Casey just hit you in the head and no so subtly pointed next to you.

When you turned, you were met with the sight of Irma, who looked thoroughly confused.

The place all of you stood suspended above smelled horrible, and looked worse. You were sure you looked right at home with your torn clothes and hair matted with blood. Casey didn't look that good either, but miraculously Irma didn't have a single scratch on her. The only sign she was even witnessing the same thing as you was the telltale quiver of fear in her eyes.

"Irma?" You questioned with a blink. "What are you doing here?"

"Remember how we went out for pizza?" She frowned.

You nodded.

"I got attacked by a giant rat thing after you left. I tried screaming, but no one was around to help."

You resisted the urge to wince at that last part. Yowch. That had totally been you guy's fault. It seemed like she knew it too. You'd have to take her out for a snack after this or something to make up for it.

"Hey, at least most of us are together now." You reasoned, looking over at Casey. "We can probably try to find a way ou—"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never seen the two of you before." Casey grumbled, his voice a much deeper and much faker octave. You looked over at him with a crazed look in your eyes, not up for games. He just stared right back at you, silently gesturing to himself, his mask, and then a confused Irma while you watched.

"Fine. Whatever. Just, fucking, whatever mystery man." You grabbed the cage bars and hit your head against them twice before stopping.

"That won't work." Irma motioned to your head banging and did her signature move of pushing her glasses up. "I've been down here practically all day. Nothing budges these cages."

At the mention of more cages, you looked past your own to the outside. Sure enough, dangling a good ten feet off the ground and even more away from you, hung other people in mesh boxes just as reinforced as yours. Some cried, while most just looked horrified. They all shared that one thing in common, and you were sure they wished they didn't.

"Welcome esteemed guests."

"Oh please don't tell me it's this guy." You frowned.

"There's no need to fear, I will not hurt you. That I promise." A chuckle rang darkly through the room— cavern? it felt more like a cavern —that you were being kept in. You didn't have to think hard to figure out who it belonged to. It already reaked with enoigh pretentiousness.

Sure enough, when the figure stepped out of hiding and into the light, you got a good look at what had been described to you back at the lair. Tall, covered in bandages, and sporting a horrible choice of a trench coat. You barely held yourself back from booing at him, figuring that it probably wasn't the best way to go undetected. Casey didn't seem to share your carefully thought out sentiment.

"Let us out of here you freak!" He said, still donning his modified voice as he shook the bars to the cage. You kicked him in the back of the knee. A universal sign recognized all over the world to shut the hell up.

"All in good time." The Rat King echoed back.

You groaned and massaged your temples. This was really going to give you another tension headache, wasn't it.

You were left wishing for some Tylenol as your captor dove into an explination, calmly explaining how he had come to capture you. Something about rats, mutagen, science, rats, rats, his intelligence, and more rats. Probably. You stopped listening half way through and started feeling around the cage for anything sharp.

Right as you thought your search would turn out to be fruitless, your hand brushed against the bulk of your waistline. Cool metal met your hand, and with a start, you realized that they hadn't taken your tazer.

They hadn't taken your tazer.

Wracking your mind all the way back to after Splinter freaked out, you remembered the turtles telling you something. About how the Rat King used to be normal, before a freak electrical fire left him blind. Only able to see through the eyes of rats.

Your hand tightened around the base of the tazer. The words electrical fire bounced around in your head.

If a shock got him into this, maybe a shock could get him out.

You paid no attention to Irma as she dropped to the floor in a fainting stupor. The adrenaline and lack of food getting to her probably. You only felt somewhat guilty for your flippant attitude toward her well being.

Tapping Casey on his shoulder, you held a finger up to your lips. Even with his mask on, you could feel the confusion coming off of him in waves as you gestured down to your pants.

"Uh. Dude, you know I sort of have a thing with Red right?" He laughed awkwardly, stepping away. You glared at him with the force of a thousand suns before lifting up your hoodie to reveal the head of your tazer. Pointing out at the Rat King, you watched as his eyes widened in realization.

"I know you have something similar in those goalie gloves of yours Casey." You murmered. "When its our turn for whatever he's planning, let the rats drag us. But when it comes time for him to touch us, zap him."

"You think that will work?" Casey shuddered. You could only imagine that he was thinking about being touched by those rats again. And voluntarily this time.

"It better. If not, it might buy us enough time for the others to get here." You cracked your knuckles nervously. The look that Casey gave you made you tilt your head.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just forget how scary you can get when you're not yelling at me." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The guys should really start letting you come on missions with us."

You snorted and went to say something else. Maybe that he was crazy, or that you didn't quite hate the sound of that. Whatever it was going to be, you were cut off by the clashing of metal against metal.

The door to your cage swung open, and a furry paw grabbed you by the face. Struggling to breathe through the must of rat droppings coming from the living restraint around your face, you weren't aware that you were being lifted off the ground and dragged in the nearest direction of the Rat Kings makeshift lab. Somewhere in the shadows, five sets of hidden eyes widened. The other pair began to turn red.

"Here we have our first volunteer for the serum." The point of a needle came into view as the giant mutated rat dropped you. Brown fur stick to the inside of your mouth as you sputtered like a fish out of water.

Many cries for you to watch out came from the surrounding cages, New Yorkers feeling powerless while watching a teenager get stalked by a needle.

You grasped blindly at your waist. For a horrific split second, you could smell the sourness of his breath as he approached you. And then you felt your fingers close down around plastic.

Flipping the switch on your tazer, you sat up and poked him in the eyes with two fingers. Predictably, it did nothing but make him grunt in annoyance. But it was to his detriment. The action gave you enough time to scramble up and point the tazer at his face, rushing forward and sticking it right between his forhead.

"Suck my dick." You said heavily. Not exactly action hero movie material, but there would be plenty of time to worry about it later.

Blue light lit up his head and upper torso in a painful sparkle. Rats from all around screamed and squealed as their master fell to his knees, clawing at his face. Somewhere inbetween all the tiny cries, you thought you heard a much larger one and then a scuffle.

Your chest heaved as you turned on your heel to climb back up over the cage you had just been sitting in. An enraged cry followed your movements, and you were sure thousands of rats were now surging in your direction. Your only hope was that the zap had slowed all of them down, not just the Rat King.

You began to shimmy up the rope keeping Casey and Irma from falling. Old cuts from tumbling on the street earlier opened back up, staining the rope and ends of your sleeves.

Somewhere in the amount of time it took for you to get to the top of the rope, a fight had broken out underneath you. A part of your mind hoped it was Casey holding his own, and the other part really hoped it wasn't. You weren't sure how long his hockey sticks would hold under a tidal wave of sharp teeth and wormy tails.

Sparing a look down, your eyes were assaulted with flashes of green and silver. Surprise over took your features as you watched the guys emerge from the shadows, weapons batting away any adversary that dare to attack.

And was that—?

"Master Splinter?" You choked, and slipped down the rope slightly before scaling back up.

The sensei, sure enough, was in the midst of all the seperate battles. He appeared to battling with himself, clutching the sides of his head as he stumbled around.

A loud call of your name tore your gaze away from him, coming to settle on a struggling Mikey. He was balancing his nunchucks in one hand, and a blob of pink white and brown in the other.

"Mikey!" You yelled back, still hanging on to avoid the swarm of rats approaching. "Is that the cat I gave you? What the hell is going on!"

"We were coming to save you—" He stopped talking as he dodged another wave of rats before popping back up. "—and then sensei just went crazy! He's chasing after the Rat King now!"

You noticed that Mikey purposefully didn't answer your question about the cat, instead just smiling innocently. Filing it away for later, you continued to make frantic conversation.

"Is there anything I can do!?"

"Help get everyone out of these cages! We can't let any of the civilians see us!" Leonardo butted in from somewhere. You couldn't see him, but it sounded like he was wrestling with something. Nonetheless, you nodded, and positioned yourself in preperation to jump off the rope.

It worked. With dificulty, you managed to land on the top of another cage near to Casey and Irma's. It teetered dangerously in the air, and you swung your hands in a windmill like fashion to avoid falling off.

Grabbing at a lone rat that ran over your foot, you held it to the base of the rope. It squirmed in your clutch angrily before latching onto the fibers and chewing. It didn't take long before breaking through it, and you barely managed to grab onto the end of the rope as it seperated itself from the cage.

The cage fell to the ground in a heap. Smiling, you watched the doors lock break on impact and it's captors rush out. They looked back up at you for a second, and you gestured at them to go.

"Help the others if you can!" Was all you had time to say before jumping to another cage.

Rope after rope snapped under your efforts, and cages fell from the sky like rain from heavy clouds. By the time you had reached the last one, you hadn't even noticed that the fighting below had stopped. Now all of the people had fled, and giant rats lay defeated all over the ground.

You dropped from the last rope, chucking the rat you had been using as a makeshift saw into the distance, sincerely hoping that the stupid Rat King felt that.

"I think that's the last of them." Raph spoke. You saw him and his brothers perched on a ledge above you, and waved. Mikey was the only one to wave back, and what you now knew as his cat from earlier copied the movement.

"What about Master Splinter?" Leo worried.

"He can hold his own." You piped up, bringing the rest of their attention down to you. "And I'm pretty sure he's already won. I don't see any more rats scurrying around after all. Either the mental link has been broken, or your dad beat the Rat King."

The boys seemed to consider your words. Leaping down next to you, they all watched as Donatello placed a hand on your head briefly.

"You did a good job helping today." He grinned good naturedly at you as you swiped at his hands, trying desperately to fix your hair. His smile only grew as you stuck your tounge out at him.

"Whatever. Can we leave now? I'm about done with search and rescue missions for today."

Murmurs of agreement rang out, and you all started towards the exit and back to the lair. All you could think about as the turtles bragged on each other about their performance was a nice long nap. Preferably on their couch. Their nice, soft couch.

Master Splinter returned late into the night. His robe was dirty, and paws aching. But his heart lightened at the sight before him; all of his sons curled up in a deep sleep as you yourself snored on the living room floor. April and Casey weren't far off, slumped over in a sitting position as they slept.

Grabbing the remote from Leonardo's limp hand, he turned the TV's volume down. A quiet snort came from you, and Splinter watched as you reached out to grab at something. A soft smile spread agross his face as you latched onto the nearest thing, which just so happened to be Donnie's leg, and began to lean into it.

"Rest well my children." He surveyed you all, eyes shining. "You have done well today."

The door to his dojo swung shut without a sound, and Splinter fell into a deep slumber of his own.