#happy glinting eyes turtle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-cauldron-witch · 3 months ago

Text

Weapon accessory gifts

Very simple scenario: Each turtle gives reader an accessory gift. That's all!

Tag group: @thelaundrybitch @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @sophiacloud28 @truffle-draws-turtles @iridescentflamingo (If you wish to be added to my tag list, message me!)

Leonardo

You had learned over the years that gift giving wasn’t one of Leo’s strongest love languages, preferring quality time over materialistic items. Sure, when the time called for a gift like a holiday or an anniversary, the gifts he got for you were always either well thought out, planned, and useful or you had been pining after for some time but never got around to buy for yourself. Gifts outside of that weren’t as common, but they did appear, usually as a surprise silently sitting somewhere for you to find easily. Which is why when you walked into your apartment's kitchen, it was a pleasant surprise to see a baby-blue gift box sitting on your table.

The rectangular box had a white ribbon tying the lid to the box, gently keeping the two together. You smiled brightly, reaching down for the box and picking it up to feel the weight. It had a decent heaviness to it, not enough to be a hindrance but enough for it to be noticeable. You didn’t open the box though, instead waiting for a moment longer with a knowing smile.

Just as predicted a pair of hands suddenly appeared around your hips, a warm body pressing against you from behind. Tilting your head to look up you batted your eyelash at Leo, who returned your warm smile. Leaning down just enough to place a kiss on your forehead he gave your hips a gentle squeeze, happy with the content smile plastered on your face.

“What’s the special occasion?” You giggled, leaning your back against his plastron, pressing the back of your head against his chest to feel the thundering of his heart. A rumbling chuckle vibrated through you as Leo looked down to you with softness in his eyes.

“No occasion, just something to keep you safe” He chuckled.

Now rather intrigued by his statement you turned your attention back to the box, pinching the end of the ribbon you pulled at the silk, the slippery fabric easily undoing itself. Separating the lid from the box you paused, staring at the object within. It looked like a solid, black, flat baton or club from the surface.

“It’s called a tessen,” Leo explained from behind you, watching you take the club in hand. “Unfold it”

Turning and inspecting the tessen you paused, wondering what he means by unfolding it. When you noticed the side looked similar to a paper fan you had used many times through-out your life you understood and slid the fan open. Gasping as the gorgeous midnight blue fan spread out in your hand you marveled at the white blossoms and petals dancing in the wind, giving a serene ethereal feeling to its beauty.

“It’s beautiful,” You breathed.

“Just like you” Leo murmured into the crown of your head. Turning the tessen to study the beautiful craftsmanship, the thin iron spokes between the deep stained wood glinting in the light of your kitchen. The white petals and flowers flowing in the breeze gave the sense of serenity and peace.

“You have to be very careful, sweetheart” Leo reached for the ribbon discarded on the table top he took it in both hands, pulling the fabric taught. Bringing the ribbon to the edge of the fan Leo flicked his wrist, bringing the ribbon over the edge and splitting it in half. “The edge of the fan is a blade, you have to be very careful when you unfold it. When it's folded you can use it as a club, the ends are reinforced for blunt force.

Marveling as Leo’s expert hands took the beautiful weapon from your hands you watched as he folded it back together. He turned it over, the wood lacquer glistening and smooth. Holding the handle of the fan to your eye level Leo leaned down, his bright blue eyes scrutinizing the wood in search of something only he knew of. Taking your hand he extended your pointer finger gliding it along the smooth surface until you felt the slightest difference. It felt like a tiny, circular indentation.

“Can you feel that button?” He questioned.

“Yes?” You smiled curiously at him. Putting just enough pressure to the tip of your finger a small click was heard, the end of the fan's handle segmented into a smaller handle. Taking the smaller handle Leo unsheathed a blade, the surface reflecting your surprised expression. It was a tanto, you only knew this because Leo enjoyed talking to you for hours about weaponry, the handle of the blade just big enough for your hand.

“Leo, this is...wow,” Taking the blade in hand, surprised by how light it was compared to the tessen in the other, your own reflection inspecting back at you as you stared. The blade was brand new, not a single nick or scratch to be seen.

“We can practice at the lair with it some time, I can show you how to properly use it” His voice lowered and his eyes crinkled as he looked at the weapons he had bestowed on you, a sense of worry behind his expression. There was more to his statement and you could feel it, when his eyes finally met yours again you remained quiet and waiting.

“I...I’m not always going to be around if there’s trouble. I’ve accepted that...somewhat. I know we’ve trained and I’ve shown you how to defend yourself, but there’s going to be danger and you aren’t as skilled-”

“Baby,” Before he could continue on his tangent and get lost in his rambling you interrupted him nicely, “I love it, it’s beautiful. I know you’re protecting me,”

Placing the gift on the table with care you wasted no time in turning back to Leo, your hands reaching up to cup his cheeks and guide it down to your own for a deep kiss. His lips molded to yours protectively, one hand trailing up your back and the other firmly pressing you to his plastron. He pulled away and looked down at you, smiling with a fondness that filled you with warmth and sent your heart fluttering.

“I’ll always protect you, somehow, someway. Always,” Leo promised you with a kiss to your forehead, his voice thick with sincerity and love like warm honey.

Raphael

“Come on, keep going!” Raph’s voice boomed off the walls as he stood behind the punching bag hanging from the ceiling, bracing the bag as you drilled into the side vigorously. Focusing on keeping your form and making sure your punches landed on their mark Raph’s unusually loud voice didn’t deter you, instead encouraging and fanning the flame within you.

“Keep your feet apart! That’s it, keep it up, just a couple more jabs!” Grinning with pride as you put all your weight into each solid punch you took, Raph admired you with a toothy grin. Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right. The only time your eyes wavered from your target was to catch a glance up at Raph, his bright green eyes raking over you to make sure you kept your form while also admiring every single inch of you. His gaze fueled the fire even more, making you swing harder and with more precision.

“Heh, easy tiger, easy! Stand down,” Raph called out to you with a laugh, grinning at you proudly. Pulling back your fists with a huff you paused, waiting to see what he would instruct you with next. He admired that about you, always willing to listen to him and follow his instructions when you trained with him, knowing full well this was all to make sure you could keep yourself safe and hold your own when you needed to.

“You did good today, doll. Let’s call it a break,” Stepping out from behind the bag Raph slid the towel from his shoulder and handed it to you. It was clean but still held his scent heavily, not that you complained at all. Dabbing the sweat from your brow you watched as Raph strolled across the dojo and to his workout bench. Picking up the dripping water bottle from the condensation ring he tossed the bottle to you, smirking as you fumbled to catch it.

“Mean!” You yelled at him, the cold droplets splattering against your hot skin.

“What? I’m just testin’ ya reflexes” He played innocent, a devilish smirk plastered across his cheeks. An abrupt look of realization washed over him at his own words, his bright green eyes flickering with a memory you had no idea about. “Hang on, wait right here!”

He took off towards his room a second later, disappearing down the hall for a moment without explaining any further. Cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip you waited patiently, rather curious by what exactly in his sentence sparked the memory and what he was grabbing. Rushing back with a childish grin and something shiny in his fist Raph returned. Stopping only a step in front of you he uncurled his fist, a red metal rod the length of a pencil sitting in his palm. One end had indented grips for a handle and a keyring while the other end tapered off into a blunt point.

“What is it?” You questioned, picking up the surprisingly light weapon.

“It’s called a Kubotan. It’s a self defense keychain, if you hold it in your fist it’ll make it so your punches are sturdier and harder,” He reached a hand over and gently curled yours into a fist around the kubotan, the grips molding around your fingers as though it was made to fit like a puzzle piece. “The other end you can use either to stab someone in the pressure or reflex point, break a window in an emergency- or a rib if you stab them hard enough”

Turning the kubotan in your hand you couldn’t help but smile at the shade of red, oddly similar to Raph’s own mask. Of course he would pick something that would remind you of him in every way; blunt, quick, and red in color. It was easy to move in your hands with how light it was, possibly made from steel if you had to guess.

“I love it babe, thank you” Lifting your head to look up at him you smiled brightly, “I’ll make sure I always have it,”

“That’s why there’s a keychain” He teased, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. You couldn’t help but giggle against his mouth at the comment, because of course he would say something smartass like.

Donatello

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Was the first sentence you heard from Donnie as you walked into the lab, putting a bright smile on your face. There was no time for you to greet him back as he was beside you in a second, taking your right arm and guiding your hand outward. You allowed him to fiddle with your wrist, wrapping something silicone snuggly and making sure it is secured.

“I just finished it,” Donnie’s eyes sparkled with pride at the device now attached to your arm. Pulling the device close enough to inspect you recognized it as a sort of smartwatch, the face of the digital watch was bigger than a normal smartwatch was the first thing you noticed. The screen brightened, the word ‘Hello!’ greeting you with an adorable smiley face.

“It’s a type of smartwatch I made for you, I call it the Multi-Tech Watch” He began explaining, pride in every word he spoke as you tapped the screen. The smiling face that had greeted you giggled and changed screens, showing you icons for different functions that Donnie was clearly about to burst at the seams with excitement to explain further.

“You can give it a name, I gave it a cute and simple AI system that can be customized to your preferences. It’s main objective is your safety, so it has plenty of devices”

“When did you start making this?” You questioned as he ushered you further into his lab and into a seat, wheeling his computer chair next to you for more comfortability as he showed you how the device worked. No memories of this invention being mentioned in the past occurred to you as you inspected the new device.

“I was keeping it a secret, I wanted to surprise you...and make sure everything worked as intended,” He gave you a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck, something he always did when he was about to admit something embarrassing to you, “I had to make sure the mace feature worked correctly cause I...might have sprayed myself,”

“Oh my God! You didn’t wear your goggles again, did you?” You chided and suddenly pulled the device far from your face, not wanting the mace function to go off as though on queue. Not wanting to admit further folly Donnie took your hand and guided it back to his front, his large finger somehow able to tap the tiny screen.

Showing you each function for each app Donnie designed himself he explained each of their uses. The app icon with a lightning bolt released a pair of prongs for a taser on the side pointing away from you, the silicone band serving as a barrier from being shocked when in use. A thumb-tack icon was the next app he explained. When pressed the icon gave you three simple options; Send tracker, which launched a sticky button tracker that sent out a signal to the watch and Donnie’s computer. Option two said ‘Track Me’ that would send your immediate location to the pre-programmed contacts Donnie had installed. The last option was a simple GPS, something that would help you get to your destination easier.

A simple flashlight was the next icon, its function rather obvious but came with the simple options. There was a color wheel off to the side, giving you the option to change the color of the light or allow you to rotate through the rainbow or a customized set you could create. There was also a blue-light option, a function he added for when you fell asleep wearing the watch to help soothe you in your sleep.

“For the mace option,” Donnie pointed your wrist directly out in front of you, the watch pointing straight forward to an invisible enemy, “If you press the little spray can icon and hold it for five seconds, the watch will spray a thick cloud of bear mace. You only have a few charges for this, so be careful and try not to waste it. There’s a feature that will let me know when the canister is empty and needs to be refilled,”

“How exactly did you spray yourself again?” You questioned him, interrupting his tangent with a cocky smirk.

“I’ll explain later. Now, for the coup de grace” Dodging your question quickly he took your wrist back, excitedly showing you the icon of a tiny turtle with a helicopter propeller on its shell. It was adorable frankly, but what exactly its function was wasn’t very clear by the icon. Pressing the button the watch opened on a virtually invisible hinge. Tiny whirling propellers began singing as an incredibly small drone popped out, shaped like a tiny turtle with four suction cup shaped feet. A tiny screen attached to the shell turned on, the adorable smile previously on the watch now greeting you on the smallest drone you have ever seen.

“Oh my God it’s adorable!” You practically shrieked with delight at the tiny drone smiling at you, flying around your wrist and head in a figure eight. Grinning proudly Donnie watched for a moment as the tiny drone stopped in front of your face, a small giggle coming from it. Could it speak? You didn’t know just yet, but either way it was precious.

“I didn’t name it, I figured you would want to do that yourself. This little guy is equipped with an AI personality that will grow as the two of you get to know each other, a tiny camera to take pictures and videos, and if you ever get into too much trouble the watch is designed to immediately launch the drone and seek me out for help”

“This is awesome, Donnie,” Cooing at the drone as it slipped itself back into its rightful place in the watch, closing seamlessly and face returning to the watches screen. “I love it, I can’t believe you made this without me knowing. Thank you, I’ll make sure to keep it on me at all times”

“I’m so glad you like it, I’ll upgrade and add stuff to it as I think of them...I just want to make sure you stay safe” Leaning over in your seat you placed a quick kiss to his cheek, more than happy with your gift and eager to pick a name for your new little AI friend.

Michelangelo

The white string of lights gave off a comforting glow within the fort both you and Mikey had made in the middle of your living room. The original plan of a picnic on your apartment roof had been quickly dashed when the roll of thunder echoed in the distance and was quickly closing in. The two of you managed to clamber back into your apartment through your window, sliding the glass shut just as the skies opened up into waves of heavy rain. The gentle tapping of droplets against the window panes and roar of thunder from outside washed a feeling of serenity over the apartment.

Sudden weather change didn’t mean you couldn’t still have a picnic. Mikey didn’t even give you an explanation, simply started grabbing your extra bed sheets and began arranging couch cushions. With little hesitation you began gathering supplies as well, pulling out a box of Christmas lights that had greeted you by falling on your head when you opened one of your closets.

Using broom or mop handles to hold up fitted sheets like canopies, stringing the lights and using chip clips to keep them in the air, and piling the couch cushions and any pillow he could find into a makeshift nest with a special blanket spread out for the food. Mikey beamed with pride at his work before grabbing the food that had been packed originally for a rooftop escapade. You spread out the picnic on the blanket while Mikey turned on the music, using his bluetooth speaker he brought with him.

“This was a great idea, babe,” You praised, smiling warmly as you sat next to him.

“I wasn’t about to let something like a little rain ruin my date with you, Angelcakes!” Mikey beamed with pride, feeling that he had successfully saved the date the two of you had planned some time ago. Scooting himself closer to you he smiled brightly and crossed his legs, reaching a hand behind him slowly. While building the fort he had snuck a present into the cushions while you weren’t looking. He couldn’t wait anymore, he had to give it to you even if he wanted to originally wait until you two ate.

“What’s that smile for?” Giggling at the grin splitting Mikey’s face, you adjusted yourself in your seat, recognizing that ‘I can’t keep it back any longer’ grin and glint in his bright blue eyes. Pulling out the slender and long box from behind his back he handed it to you with a smile that could brighten the darkest room. Taking the gift box with eagerness you held it in your hands, inspecting the cream-orange wrapping paper he had picked to match his mask. Tearing the paper away you opened the white box eagerly and gasped.

A beautifully slender black wooden hair stick with an adorable paper lantern with a tassel dangling at the end sat inside its faceted velvet confines. It was so simple yet so beautiful. Eagerly reaching over Mikey gently took the accessory from its box, rolling it over in his hand to admire the craftsmanship himself yet again. Wrapping an arm around you Mikey hauled you into his lap and held the hair stick in front of you.

“This isn’t just something beautiful, baby girl” Mikey explained softly, his tone low and caring. “If you grab the end with the lantern and the middle, you just need to twist gently like this” Pinching the stick just as he had instructed he gave the stick a gently tweak, you half expected the stick to be broken in half, but instead he pulled out a slender dagger hidden within the stick.

“Oh, wow,” You breathed as you saw your eyes reflecting off the metal, both parts gorgeous and functional. Gently taking the dagger from his hand you inspected its slender form, the paper lantern charm surprisingly very light and posing no difficulty or obstruction as you held the handle. “Mikey, this is beautiful, thank you. Where did you get this?”

“I might have bought it online...with Donnie’s help,” Smiling down at you with a softness that reached his eyes, the bright blue irises brimming with pride at how much you loved the gift. “I wanted to get you something pretty that you’d use daily and could protect you! Just in case I’m not there...and can’t protect you myself,” He looked uncomfortable as he admitted this, the thought of you getting hurt sending a wave of anxiety through him. Placing the accessory in his hand with a gentle, reassuring smile you reached up the under hand to his chin and lifted his head so that he could gaze at you.

“Can you help me put it in?” You requested, wanting to distract him from the thoughts threatening to cloud Mikey’s mood. That bright smile you would shield anything from returned to his face immediately, popping the tip of the hair stick between his lips while his hands began raking gently through your hair when you turned around.

“I looked up a couple of YouTube videos on how to do this,” You could hear and feel the warmth in his voice, closing your eyes and relaxing as Mikey molded your hair to secure the hair stick within.

#TMNT #TMNT scenario #no specific iteration #Leonardo #Donatello #Raphael #Michelangelo #Leo #Raph #Donnie #Mikey #TMNT x reader #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader #mikey x reader

77 notes · View notes

yangoodomens · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere!Rise Leo x GN reader

CW: implied kidnapped

•°•°•°•°•《The beginning of forever》°•°•°•°•°•

I breathed in, trying to keep myself calm. I was going on a date, but not just any date, THE date. I have been friends with the Turtles for years now, and I wouldn't be lying if I said I had feelings for one of them, and he finally asked me on a date.

I looked in the mirror one last time. I looked good, my [outfit of choice] was clean, my hair was neatly done in a [style of choice]. He had mentioned I didn't need to dress up, we weren't going somewhere extremely fancy.

I hear my phone go off, I look over to see Leo's contact, a message displayed on the screen.

💙Blue boy💙 - Hope you're ready, ill be there in 5! Can't wait to see how Pretty/Handsome you are!

🌸Y/N🌸 - I am, im really excited Leo, see you soon!

Almost on cue, I heard a knock on my door. I took one last look at myself before I head down to greet him. Opening the door I see Leo. He wore a casual white collared sweater and jeans. He smiled as he saw me. "You're stunning", he praised, as he hands me a bouquet of light blue flowers, with a small shark plushie in the middle.

A small giggle escaped me as I took the bouquet, "Leo, you didn't have to," I said to him.

He smiles "I wanted to, you deserve it". He extends his hand to me, "ready to go?"

I smiled, "Of course". I took his hand and walked with him. This day was going to be the best.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°《Timeskip》•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

We finally got to the place: a giant aquarium. He guides me in, and we start to walk around, pointing at all the pretty fish and sharks, laughing at the funny animals.

We walk into a underwater glass tunnel, As I walk through the mesmerizing aquarium tunnel, my senses are overwhelmed with the ethereal beauty that surrounds me. The vibrant colors of the coral reefs and the graceful movements of the exotic fish create a visual spectacle that transports me into a different world. The gentle sway of the water and the soft lighting further enhances the surreal atmosphere, casting a calming spell on my soul. The tunnel provides a unique perspective, allowing me to feel like I am swimming alongside these magnificent creatures, witnessing their elegance up close. It is a truly enchanting experience that leaves me in awe of the wonders of the underwater world.

I snap out of my amazed state to point to a turtle looking at lei, "it's you." I smiled stupidly as I joked. I looked at him, being met with him staring at me, "what?" I asked in a joking tone.

"while the beauty of the aquarium tunnel catches the attention of all who pass through, your beauty passes even its amazement. Your vibrancy and grace fill my heart with an awe that no man-made wonder could ever match.", he longingly murmurs.

I look at him, my face flared in a blush, "Leo..." I say, he cups my face, kissing my forehead, as he says, "I hope I make you half as happy as you make me."

We finished our date. As he's walking me home, we chat and joke. I never see the glint in his eyes. We made it to my house. I kissed his cheeks as I said goodbye, starting to walk to my door.

He grabs me, covering my mouth with a damp rag. I cough as he holds it to my face. I am getting dizzy. I hear him whisper in my ear as he pulls out his odachi sword and makes a portal,

"There are plenty of fish in the sea, but you're the one for me. Sleep well, mi tesoro. "

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•《End of story》°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hope you enjoyed

- Jett

#yandere #yandere tmnt #yandere leonardo #yandere rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #yandere x reader #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rise leo #fluff

200 notes · View notes

philliam-writes · 2 years ago

Text

you are in the earth of me [01]

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Content: cot3 +1 (and kipps), canon-typical violence & horror, loss of family member (not just Lockwood), found family, touch starved Lockwood, childhood friends Kipps & Reader, childhood trauma, slow burn, rivals to lovers (if this stays a Lockwood/Reader), mature language (swearing), aged up characters (everybody's in their early 20s; Kipps is mid-20s), fem! Reader though pronouns are used sparingly and no use of y/n

Summary: “Ton—Anfonie ‘Ockwoo’.” You nod, and finally swallow your mouthful of food. “I’ve heard things about you.” Lockwood’s dark eyes slide over to Kipps for a second, glinting like a knife drawn out of its sheath. He gives you a nice, easy smile. “Only good things, I presume?” You feel your face scrunch up at the memory of Kipps’s curses, threats and very imaginative ways of what he’d do with his rapier and a very specific part of Lockwood’s body. “Yeah, uhm … things.”

Notes: [02]

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Words will never suffice how much Lockwood & Co. has carried me through some of the toughest parts of my life. To see it adapted to a show is SO EXCITING, I couldn't help but be a little self-indulgent and plan out a whole ass story for my favourite three (+ Kipps) ghost hunters. So here we go.

This could either stay a Lockwood/fem!Reader or I could easily change it into Locklyle or even freaking poly cot3 x Reader or just Locklyle depending on what people want to read. I'm fine with pretty much everything; I just want my silly little Reader joining 35 Portland Row because I am in DIRE NEED OF FOUND FAMILY AND JUST SELF-INDULGENT GHOST HUNTING

So yeah, I'm totally open to people requesting Locklyle or anything for this one, but it's still gonna be from Reader's POV and focusing on an original story with action and characters studies and personal growth. Also sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my first language and I'd be super happy if someone offered to become my beta-reader for this! Any feedback is super super appreciated!!

01: let the dead hollers hum

when i first saw you, the end was soon to bethlehem it slouched and then it must've caught a good look at you

—hozier: nfwmb

At almost two in the morning the streets should be empty of people and cars, yet you manage to nearly get hit by a night cab turning down Tredegar Road. Its ghastly horn echoes like the wail of a Banshee through the dark, disturbing the peaceful night. Across the street, a kitchen light flickers to life inside a building. A shadow moves behind the white curtains, pausing for a second to look out at the street.

Bracing against the cutting wind, you turn up your maroon trenchcoat’s collar and duck your head like a turtle trying to hide inside its shell. It would have been much colder without your gloves now that the early winter bite is coming, but it’s still very unpleasant to be outside after the sun has set. Today is a clearer night, despite the day of rain; the moon chases stray wisps of cloud across an otherwise unmarked black sky.

London turns in earlier than usual now that the nights grow longer and colder—and more dangerous as well. Just yesterday you heard two more night-watch kids have succumbed to ghost-lock down at the warehouses near Blackfriars when they got distracted trying to warm up from the freezing evening rain that had set in after eleven. They turned into easy pickings for a Drowner lurking beneath the docs—former scoundrels who ended their sorry lives in the water by drowning. They rarely make a pleasant sight with their bloated limbs and skin wrinkled so hard it is peeling off like layers of paint.

It makes you glad to feel the familiar weight of your rapier hanging from your hip holster, to know that just within short reach, everything you need to protect yourself is at your disposal. That and the salt bombs around your belt. It’s hard not to feel safe while carrying around something with ‘bomb’ in its name.

You find the meeting point you’ve been summoned to at the end of the street. The Green Goose is a two-floor building with the restaurant at the bottom and what you can only assume the storage and other facilities upstairs. All sun-blinds on the first floor are drawn shut.

Few London establishments are open during the night, and fewest of all in the dark hours before the dawn. But places like this, catering for agents or night-watch kids, are easily recognised by the additional fortification against possibly unwanted visitors. High up where the first floor meets the second, heavy mistletoe bushes run around the whole building like a gigantic garland. You imagine in summer this would be lavender blooms, plunging the whole street into their thick, sweet scent. The door and windows are laced with iron grilles, and overhung with battered ghost-lamps. A few wooden dining tables and benches remain vacated outside, left to their own until the warmth of spring returns.

After a first glance inside the premise through the grimy windows, you don’t spot your friend. How much easier this would be if you could carry a phone around, just to check if you are at the right place. Now all you have to go on is his cryptic call before your shift started this morning, and a vague sense of the kind of establishments he likes based to his tastes.

Good thing you have known him for almost a decade.

But that doesn’t really give you an idea what exactly Quill Kipps wants from you. Maybe help with a case? Or he has finally realised he has a crush on his co-worker, that lemony-smelling Kat or Kate, and now he needs advice. Not hanging out at the dead of the night would be a preferable start.

Small bells jingle when you push the door open with your shoulder, and a waft of warm air scented with grease and coffee hits your nose, bringing heat back to your face. It looks a lot smaller than from the outside, narrow and with the sitting area stretched in an L-shape around the bar and counter in the middle. Behind that a pair of slightly askew doors lead to the kitchen where you can hear a radio play.

The first row of tables line alongside the window, then disappear further into the back. In the corner, two night-watch kids sit huddled together, quietly snoring and drooling on each other’s shoulders with their meagre food spread before them. A waitress with short black hair and a chubby chin standing behind the counter looks up from a magazine, stares at you, and blows out a baby-blue bubble of gum until it pops loudly.

She raises an eyebrow.

You raise one back at her.

From the other side of the entrance, you hear Kipps calling your name. At that, the waitress gives you a single, polite nod which you answer alike, as though you are two cowboys engaged in a stand-off who don’t want to shoot each other.

Marching down the narrow aisle, you pass an occupied table and accidentally bump into it. Cutlery rattles against an empty plate. You mumble a half-hearted apology and move on, barely listening to the grumbled answer or really looking at the man clad in black sitting there. He gives of a sweet, heavy scent you can’t really place, and quickly move on.

Knowing you’d arrive in a foul mood, Kipps has already ordered your favourite midnight snack after a hard day’s work: coffee and a simple English breakfast with a fried egg, hot and greasy sausages, crispy bacon, tomatoes and mushrooms on the side.

“It better be important, Kippy,” you say in lieu of hello, manoeuvring over his lap to the unoccupied seat by the window, using elbows and knees to execute a complicated dance with him so you can squeeze into the narrow booth. He grunts and makes barely any effort to make you room. His outstretched legs take up a disproportionate amount of real estate. “I got a ten hour shift behind me and I’m desperate for my bed.”

“You certainly smell like after a ten hour shift,” he comments, wrinkling his nose. Of course he looks well kempt and neat as always with not a single ginger curl on his head out of order. But there are dark circles under his eyes as though someone put a charcoal pen to his skin, betraying his tidy appearance. His eyes flit over your face for a second, scanning it for any injuries.

You give him your best shit-eating grin and wolf down on your eggs when someone clears his throat from across the table—and that’s when you realise Kipps isn’t alone.

Nursing a cup of tea, opposite you sits a young man in a black suit, slender and tall, his short, unruly hair swept back elegantly. He watches you with mild interest, his thin lips slightly pursed, like someone would watch a flock of hungry pigeons plunge towards bread crumbs spread by tourists at Hyde Park—nothing out of order. Just another regular sight in the big city on a late afternoon stroll.

You hold his steady, dark eyes when you bite into your egg, feeling the yolk escape at the corners of your mouth and run down your chin. You didn’t even realise how much you were starving.

“Hwo’sh yor fren’, ‘Ippy?” you ask with your mouth full because you have absolutely zero shame.

Kipps swallows a groan.

“Yes, Kippy,” the young man replies with the most soothing, alluring voice you have ever heard, as though he’s eaten silk and honey for breakfast. “Why don’t you introduce us?”

Kipps makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. Annoyance radiates off him stronger than any other-light you have seen on apparitions. “Friend is a bit much,” he says slowly, as though he has to talk around the word ‘friend’ because it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “That’s Lockwood.” You recognise his tone. It sounds a lot as if he’s saying That’s the biggest nuisance of my life.

The effect is pretty much the same.

You nearly choke on your next bite and aim for the coffee to wash it down. When you jerk your head around to stare at Kipps in disbelief, your eyes stretch wider than the dinner plate before you. Kipps must read what’s written on your face: That’s Lockwood? Tony Lockwood you can’t shut up about? Your arch-nemesis?

Kipps rolls his eyes so hard it must give him a spectacular view of his skull. Just humour me, his expression says.

“Ton—Anfonie ‘Ockwoo’.” You nod, and finally swallow your mouthful of food. “I’ve heard things about you.”

Lockwood’s dark eyes slide over to Kipps for a second, glinting like a knife drawn out of its sheath. He gives you a nice, easy smile. “Only good things, I presume?”

You feel your face scrunch up at the memory of Kipps’s curses, threats and very imaginative ways of what he’d do with his rapier and a very specific part of Lockwood’s body. “Yeah, uhm … things.”

Lockwood seems to understand, for he doesn’t inquire further, but his smile seems to freeze a little at the corners. “And you are?”

“Kipps’s friend.” You stuff the rest of your toast into your mouth and give your name. Lockwood blinks and keeps a polite smile, and doesn’t ask even though you’re sure he didn’t understand a word you just said.

“I wasn’t aware Kipps has friends.” Lockwood’s eyes have taken on a taunting glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “Certainly not friends at Rotwell.”

His eyes drop to the crest stitched onto the upper part of your sleeve on your trench-coat: a snarling lion holding a rapier in its front paw—the agency’s symbol—before he gives Kipps a pointed look as though that small detail would have been worth mentioning before they got up to whatever this is.

Kipps ignores him. “I called you because I need your help,” he says, sliding napkins over to you which you promptly ignore. “I need your Talent.”

You halt at that and give him a long, level look. Kipps doesn’t shy away from the weight of your gaze, and suddenly you become painfully aware of the tension surrounding them, thick enough you could cut it with your dull knife.

Slowly, you chew your sausage. “What exactly are we talking about?” you ask, voice quieter, matching Kipps’s. He’s doing that little wiggle in his seat, shifting his weight from left to right he always does when bracing for potential conflict. When he trails his eyes away from you, you follow them to Lockwood who is looking at Kipps as though seeing him for the first time.

From the pockets of his long, black coat, Lockwood pulls out a small wooden box. It would easily fit into the palm of your hand, and from where you sit you can’t see a particular design or anything on the surface. Lockwood slides the box across the table towards you, flips it over with his long, slender fingers, and opens the lid, revealing a small bronze key lying on a cushion surrounded by thin iron plates.

You stare at it for five, six seconds. Then reach out to take another big swig of your coffee. With no sugar, acidly bitter taste explodes on your tongue, just the way you like it.

“It’s a Source,” you say. “You just carry a Source around like that?”

“Exceptional observation skills,” Lockwood says with the mild tone of someone barely holding back his impatience. “I can see why you asked her to join us, Kippy.”

“I can see why Kipps wants to shove his rapier up your—”

“Trust me, I’d be the last one missing out on a chance to ridicule Lockwood,” Kipps interrupts, tapping a finger on the table in front of the box, “but Barnes wants results by tomorrow and I’d like to act like professionals for once, so can we please focus?”

Lockwood and you throw a mirror glare at Kipps that’s something along the lines of You’re one to talk. When you notice each other’s similar expressions, Lockwood quickly schools his features back to a neutral one. “It is secure inside its seal for now, but the Visitor contained in it is not particularly strong. If we’re quick, it won’t have time to come through,” he says.

You shake your head. “You’re mad. And you—” you knock your knee against Kipps’s—“what’s wrong with you for going along with this?”

“There’s just … not enough time,” Kipps says. Exhaustion seeps into his voice, strong enough to peel back layers of caution for he shares a quick glance with Lockwood and what they don’t say screams so loudly that you have to lean back and re-evaluate what you’ve known about their relationship up until now.

It seems that Kipps has missed out on filling you in on some crucial details about the past few weeks he has worked at Kensal Green Cemetery.

“Then why don’t you just tell me what this is about?” you say, looking over at Kipps sharply. “Why does Barnes need you both to work on it? Is it a Fittes job? Did Bobby get his greasy little hands on something and—”

“Actually,” Lockwood chimes in, “it is our case. Lockwood & Co. Kipps is … an associate. And we’re very short on time to solve this case. Let’s just say Kipps has a little favour to repay. We need someone who excels at Touch, and he said you are the best at it. You might be our last chance to find out more about this key.” He has switched from that arrogant drawl to a soft, melodic cadence with that maddeningly smooth voice of his. It has to be intentional—he is trying to play you like a fiddle with that charm he switched on like an industrial bulb.

“What’s there to solve? You got the Source, you sealed it. That’s all there is. This should be on its way to a furnace right now.” You fall back into your seat, eyes raking over Lockwood’s form. He doesn’t even wear a uniform for Christ’s sake. “And you call yourself an agent?”

And just like that the light goes out, the switch flicks off. Lockwood’s face is calm; the only sign of his agitation is a pulse hammering in his throat and a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Kipps shifts in his seat. “We can’t give it to Barnes yet,” he says in a quiet voice, wrenching your eyes away from the glaring contest you have engaged in with Lockwood. Kipps presses his lips into a thin line, and you can see the mental strain it takes on him to agree with something Lockwood said. His handsome face crumples as though he has bitten into a lemon. “We believe the murder of that Visitor is still out there.”

You digest that. Go in for some more food. It takes a lot more effort to swallow your bacon. “Even more reason to just leave it to Inspector Barnes and DEPRAC. Exactly why is this your responsibility?”

“Justice for the dead?” Kipps offers.

“Protecting the living?” Lockwood states nobly.

It sounds like a load of crap, but you are too sleep-deprived to bother figuring out what truly is at stake for them. Maybe another stupid bet, or whatever favour Kipps owes Lockwood from the last.

You run a hand through your hair, bobbing your leg up and down in a frantic rhythm. It isn’t your favourite thing to do, but you have always had a hard time telling Kipps no—and God knows he has done so much for you.

“You owe me,” you tell him. Kipps nods, and visibly relaxes with relief.

“Do you need me to—” he starts, sliding his hand across the seat and offering it to you. From across the table, you hear the seat’s leather creak as Lockwood leans forward to get a better look at what you are doing. It reminds you of a hound scenting blood in the air and going out on the hunt for its prey.

“No, I’m good. I’m not taking my gloves off anyway.” You don’t like using your Talent without anything to ground you, but there is something about the way Lockwood is looking at you two, hungry almost, as though he is categorizing a particular fascinating information to dissect it later and see what use he can draw from it. Best to just ignore him. Besides, without your gloves, you feel naked, vulnerable. This isn’t something for prying eyes—and Lockwood has an awfully piercing, scrutinising pair of unfathomably dark eyes you are not interested at all to get lost in.

You lean back into the seat and get comfortable first. It never works when you go in too tense because it takes more effort to peel away the wards of your consciousness. When Kipps takes the key and plays it into your open palm, you focus on its weight first—akin to a bird bone, you barely feel it through the thick fabric of your glove.

Which doesn’t mean it isn’t heavy. The energy radiating off this thing is like a physical force pushing you back into the backrest of your seat. You close your eyes and focus on the low thrum of energy—feelings and impressions wash over you in torrents, layer after layer. Your chest feels heavy. Your stomach clenches in a hard, tight knot—fear. Fear grips you in a tight, cold grip.

Something is lurking, far far back, something unfathomably dark and abysmal but you can’t get a hold od if through your gloves and as you begin to sift through the chaotic blur of emotions to find the source—so much darkness, so much death; good Lord the things people did to get their hands on—

Excitement. A lingering echo burning so bright it blinds; hope swelling after long periods of dread, like the first spring buds blooming after a cruel, cold winter. Agitation. The adrenaline-inducing last sprint towards your goal knowing there is nothing that stops you from reaching it. The smell of damp soil and coppery hijacks your senses, and then—

Pain explodes in your chest, knocking you back against a cushioned surface. Your knees slam against something hard, sending hot shots of pain up your legs. Your eyes snap open but the world spins when all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs and warmth spreads over your chest, liquid seeps through your fingers—but how? He could not. He would never—someone is screaming, a piercing, blood-churning scream. It takes a moment to realise the scream belongs to you; the wailing is drawn out from your raw throat, but how could anybody blame you; you are dying, shot in the chest by—

Someone is calling your name. Strong hands grab your shoulders and shake you hard as though trying to tear you away from a dream, a nightmare.

“Oh God, help me. He—he shot me—please help.” You gasp, trying to stop the bleeding by pressing your trembling hands against the wound.

“You’re fine. Listen to me, you’re fine. Nobody shot you!” A familiar voice—Kipps’s voice pierces through the wailing terror inside your head. You stare up at his green eyes which are paler than usual, widened in worry. “It’s just a psychic echo. You’re safe here.”

Another forceful inhale expands your lungs. The hot pinpoint pain in your chest subsides slowly with every shaking exhale, and when you look down at your hands, there is no blood sticking to your fingers, only coffee. When you hit your knees against the table, you knocked over your cup. Now the liquid is spreading across the table in a big puddle and dripping down its edges.

Lockwood is busy wiping the table clean with the leftover napkins while wildly gesturing with his free hand to the waitress looming over your table. “Just a long night, nothing serious,” you hear him say in haste. Either she isn’t interested or doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this; she shrugs and drags herself back behind the counter. You look around the establishment, ready to apologise for your outburst, but everybody has left already.

You turn around. When your eyes meet Lockwood’s, he grins, his smile so sudden and jarring as a thunderclap. “I have never seen anyone so sensitive to Touch. That was remarkable.” He beams as though you have performed an exceptional trick at the circus.

Something about the excitement in his voice sets you off—or maybe you are just still very raw from the experience, and the aftershock of such a gruesome echo is driving you up the wall.

“Oh yeah, it is so much fun! Feeling how people get killed every time is so worth it.” You grab your fork and stab your sausage with enough force you send tomatoes flying. On second thought, you are not hungry anymore. “Why don’t I get a gun and shoot you just so you can get an idea—”

“I’ve had my own fair share, thank you,” comes Lockwood’s flippant answer and for a second you imagine leaning over the table and smothering him with his own tie.

“So he was shot.” Kipps quickly steers the conversation back to its topic before you can follow your impulse. You slump against the seat, feeling pressure around your hand. When you look down, Kipps is holding your hand tightly, grounding you. You should have let him from the start. Weakly, you squeeze back. “We knew that already—”

“He … he never expected it to end like this,” you say slowly, gazing outside the window. Only your own reflection stares back at you. “He was shot by someone he knew. There was … genuine surprise. Before the pain, I mean. He couldn’t believe he would be hurt by someone he trusted. It was so absurd, he didn’t even have time to feel betrayed. That’s how unbelievable it was.”

“So it was someone very close to the victim. Who’s someone you’d never expect to betray you?” Kipps thinks aloud.

“Friends,” Lockwood provides.

“Family,” you say, quietly.

“A lover.” Kipps takes your fork and helps himself to some leftover mushrooms from your plate. When you look at the food, your stomach churns. “We should go back to the house tomorrow and see if you missed something, Tony. Wouldn’t surprise me if you managed to gloss over some obvious evidence,” he says to Lockwood.

“Why do you believe I would be the one—”

You shut out their bickering. A fine drizzle has set in outside, leaving small rain drops on the window. The street is a blur of black and faint white light from the ghost-lamps. When you look at your own face in the window’s reflection, your own eyes stare back at you—big, scared and haunted.

It always takes some time to get back after using your talent—to slowly build up the walls and distance yourself from the echoes of someone else’s life and the brutal way it ended. Deaths like these: sudden, violent, painful are always difficult to come back from. Which is why it is so important to have someone to ground you. Kipps has known you for so long, he is well aware how the psychic hangover drags your senses through the shredder and leaves your mind and body bruised and raw like an open nerve.

He had a few years training on how to handle it thanks to your brother.

The thought of Matthew shakes you awake and shoves you into full alertness, as if ice-cold water has been dumped down the back of your neck. You feel a sharp ache in your chest as you shove the ghost of his memory out of your mind, and then raw emptiness, as if a grappling hook has yanked your heart out of your body. It is just the aftershock—the hangover from the psychic connection, you try to reason. This is no time to allow grief back into your body, your mind.

Kipps must have heard the quiet sound you made, like a wounded animal. He falls dead silent mid-sentence and whips his head towards you. An echo of recognition passes his features for a second—there and gone so quickly, you think you imagined it.

“We are done here,” he says, and reaches over to close the box’s lid with a resolute click. You didn’t even notice he has taken the key away from you and returned it inside its seal. Lockwood opens his mouth, as though ready to argue, but whatever expression your face paints, even he recognises that you have reached your limit. Without another word, he swiftly slides the box back into his pocket.

You turn away from them, feeling anger and frustration boil inside you. You don’t want them to think you are weak just because you are a little more sensitive than other agents who can use Touch.

“Want me to drop you off the dormitory?” Kipps asks, his voice intensely neutral. He is digging through his purse to pay for your food, and shoots a glare towards Lockwood to indicate that no, he will not pay for his.

The dormitory for Rotwell agents, commonly known as the Lions Den, are rows of sand-bricked two-room apartments housing most of Rotwell’s younger agents in Chelsea. Half of your monthly salary evaporates just for paying rent, but at least it is a roof over your head and only a few stops away from your workplace. There is also something about pretending to belong to the upper posh class of London, to stroll through the highly-maintained gardens and polished windows glinting like diamonds in the early morning sun. They don’t have to deal with countless sleepless nights, the psychic hangover that makes you feel as if your body is not your own, or the constant fear every shift might be the last.

Sometimes it is that moment of pretending as though you live a different life that makes a difference.

“It’s okay, I’ll just take a cab.” Because for one, Kipps lives on the other side of the city, and two, you need to be alone.

Kipps nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it. Lockwood stays silent and is completely relaxed, a paragon of serenity with alert, dark eyes.

You scoot out of the booth and follow them outside into the cold drizzle. Mist hangs in the dark streets, rendering the area nearly invisible. Kipps and Lockwood share a few quiet words. When they part, Lockwood’s coat end flaps like black wings in the dark. He turns halfway around, gives you a long, considering look over the back of his shoulder. He parts with a single, almost approving nod, then ducks his head against the biting wind and strides down the street, disappearing into the dark night.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kipps buttons the front of your trenchcoat. He is balancing on the back of his heels—an old habit when he feels bad for something and doesn’t quite know how to apologise and it would be easier to just bail from the conflict. “You still look like shit.”

You give him a weak kick to the shin. His shoulders relax. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow about how it went,” he says, jamming his hands inside his pockets. He pulls one out again and shoves a crushed candy into your hand. It’s your favourite brand and for the first time today, you feel something warm spreading in your chest.

“Wait.” Before he can turn away, you quickly catch his sleeve and make him turn around. “About that key…”

“Is there anything else?” Kipps leans forward and you have to bend your neck back to meet his eyes.

You remember when he was much smaller and you were at the same eye level. At 13 years, Kipps used to be smaller than the rest of the boys at Stroud & Co. where you started out your agent career and met. He’s had his share of playing errand boy or punching bag for the older, taller boys, until Matthew came along one day, dunked one of Kipps’s bullies into an overflowing rain barrel and got his nose broken in return.

They became best friends after that, and you in the middle. Matthew, Quill, and you. Lock, Shock, and Barrel.

Now, only two remain.

Kipps claps your shoulder, snapping you out of the memory and dispersing the picture you have conjured in your mind of him young. Today, he stands tall and broad-shouldered before you, twice in size and muscle. Nobody sane would try and mess with him.

“What’s wrong?” Kipps asks. “Where did you go in there?” He taps two fingers against his temple.

“When I was holding the key, the recent death was the strongest echo, but there was more. Like … way, way more.” You sling your arms around yourself. “Like many layers on a painting, and whatever is underneath all that … it feels evil. Really, really evil. There is a lot of death attached to that key.”

Kipps chews on this. He looks down the street to where Lockwood has vanished, his square jaw drawn tense. “I can’t say Lockwood’s stake on this, but I don’t care much about its history. It changed owners, I get it, but who would kill for something like that?”

“I don’t know.” You think back to the smell of blood, to the underlying eagerness to own that key. “But if that key is already that vile,” you say, shuddering, “then what about the thing it opens?”

“Not important to me as long as it’s not our problem.” He yawns, and taps a foot against the hard pavement to stave off the cold. “I bet it got destroyed or lost long ago. There is no way it’s still around.” Kipps runs a hand through his hair. It curls against his temple and neck in the damp mist. “Chances are high we’ll never hear anything about it ever again after this week. Case closed. Thanks for helping us. I’m sure DEPRAC can find the murderer and it’ll be just another case in the books.”

“Yeah, sure. I guess you’re right.” You barely hold back a yawn.

Kipps nudges your elbow. “I’ll catch up with you later, OK? Gotta make sure Lockwood’s the one who messed up the earlier investigation and go back to the crime scene.”

“Doing the Lord’s work,” you joke and give him a mocking salute. For the first time tonight, Kipps grins that lopsided half-grin showing part of his white teeth before he rushes off into the night after Lockwood.

For a moment, you stand still and let the drizzle engulf you. Although you have been almost sixteen hours on your feet, exhaustion has slowly trickled away, and in its stead a bone-deep anxiety has settled. Sleep. You need to sleep this off, and everything will return back to normal by tomorrow.

Heading for the main street to catch a night cab, you don’t turn around, and just like that, you miss out on the shadow unhitching itself from a wall even though the ghost-lamp flickers to life.

A/N: hmu if you want to join the taglist!

#lockwood show #lockwood books #lockwood & co #l&c #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood x y/n #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co #lockwood reader insert #l&c reader insert

432 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 11 months ago

Text

Except for a Mouse

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Gift Fic, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Gender-Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Scurrying around, you help your boyfriend as he tries to rekindle the excitement of the gift giving season.

Also Available on Ao3

A Secret Santa gift for dearest @s-s-ironnie

Didgeridoo you are an endless delight and I'm so happy to have met you! I hope you have a wonderful holiday and enjoy!

The luster of receiving gifts had dulled with age. You tried not to include yourself in that, but it was an unfortunate fact across the board. The whole how to do of the holiday had eclipsed the supposed reason for the season. It was an odd thing; understanding why your elders had been exhausted and spent most of their days lounging while the kids ran around with their new toys. Practicality won out as you got older and with it came a stagnant sense.

“Socks?! Fantastic! Oh, they’re even the boot kind!? That’s great because mine have been wearing on my ankles all season!”

“A new whetstone, this is just what I needed. You even got the right grit. Thanks! I can’t wait to use this with those new tutorial vids I’ve been watching.”

“Can’t have enough floofy soap!”

For Donnie, it was absolute misery. In all the years you had known him, he was a gift giving master. He prided himself on knowing just what to get someone even if it wasn’t something of this world. It was his chance to flex not just his inventions, but seek the validation he so desperately craved. He considered Christmas to be his big sports game and he had enough winning rings to fill a jewelry shop.

Which was why with each consecutive year, as the requests got more mundane and the reactions gentler, he was losing that glint in his eye little by little.

It crushed you.

“A gym membership renewal!?” Donnie pushed his palms into his eye sockets so hard his chair tipped lethally backward. “Nardo wasn’t even joking!”

“Nice to have the expense taken care of…” You mourned beside your partner.

“He has an entire home gym, built by moi, what does he need-!?” Donnie groaned loudly. “The rest are just as bad: ‘that shell wax you make,’ ‘back scratcher,’ ‘gift card to that craft store I like!’” In a swivel, Donnie turned to face you while throttling the arms of his chair. “At least Casey and April chose spirited items! ‘A home defense system to vanquish audacious insects’ and an upgrade to her invisibility cloak. Fine, great, interesting enough, but not inspired! They’ll receive them, but they won’t dazzle! All my intelligence! Wasted!” In another turn that made his seat creak, Donnie threw up dozens of security camera screens filled with footage of his family. “They want not! They came up with objects to appease me!”

“It can be like that…” You dampened now that he was out of sight again.

“What can I do?” He spoke a hopeless rhetorical.

“Spend time with them? Your dad always loves having the kids back home.”

“Something constructive, please.” Donnie griped with a bitterness you knew wasn’t for you.

You finally stood and approached to put a hand on his shoulder.

One of his came up to take it as he continued to glower at the monitors.

“This is what it’s like sometimes.” You leaned in and kissed the side of his head. “The child-like wonder is gone.”

Donnie stayed statuesque and you were about pull away when his grip suddenly seized to a painful degree.

“A-ah!”

“You’re a genius!” In one swift twirl, he was out of his seat and you were up in the air being showered with kisses.

So began operation ‘Help to Make the Season Bright.’ Starting right after October as Halloween was always given its due and with little to do for Thanksgiving as that was Mikey’s territory, Donnie folded you into his plan. You were there to reign him in which you knew to be an integral role.

Never mind the weather, the Hamatos were in for a white Christmas. Donnie had crafted a new-age snow machine after you’d talked him down from one that manipulated the atmosphere. Inspired by a certain famous holiday film, Donnie had acquired gifts from his family's younger days. Having had to talk him down from time travel itself to purchase the items, you then fielded him when it came to decorations. Wanting the lair to take on that magic imbued by children’s eyes, it meant for more decorations than the past.

All counting down to the titular eve, he’d knocked Splinter out with pre-festivity cake and milk and waited for the others to retreat before you were called upon. Together you spent the entire night transforming the space and setting up in a secluded section of the nearby park. Exhausted and without a wink of sleep, you’d roused the group at an agonizing 5am as was past tradition and the day began.

Grouching about the time was quickly overshadowed by wide gleaming eyes. Whispers of how Donnie had done this were brushed past as everyone was whisked outside into a winter wonderland. Donned in coats that exactly replicated ones of their youth, Raph was the first to devolve into water works. The ensuing snowball fight brought out a heat that you hadn’t seen playfully enacted in years and a break with hot chocolate made from a pilfered recipe meant Mikey was the next to weep.

Worn out bodies were pulled inside, where upon getting their actually requested gifts, Leo stubbornly fought sobbing as he opened a mint version of his first and favorite Jupiter Jim action figure. April fell next with a newly sized version of her Hamato-crested top and Casey turned red in the face after being given validation with a combined plate of cookies and brownies.

Donnie, ever shining in his element, rode the high straight through the day until everyone collectively lost their steam. A turtle pile now with the addition of partners formed and Splinter snored loudly as a fond backdrop. Lingering sentiments meant you couldn’t join in and you had just pulled a pan of green bean casserole out of the oven to cool even though it was debatable whether it’d be eaten warm or at all. Shuffling out of the kitchen, you found Donnie leaning and watching the group and telegraphed your approach with heavier footsteps.

Instead of addressing you, he folded back an arm at the ready.

You tucked yourself into his side and he wrapped you up in the appendage. “You did it.”

“I couldn’t have without you.” He gave his family one last wistful look before bringing glowing adoration down to you.

You smiled where your head was sleepily resting against his plastron.

“One last thing…”

Your lips tugged downward. “The dinner was last…” In a slight shuffle against him, you unearthed your phone along with the list. “Yeah… we marked them all off.” You showed him.

“Oh!” He put on airs as he leaned forward to examine your phone with great feigned interest.

“Donnie…” You pursed your lip.

“Seems there was one missing.” With a tap, your list refreshed and a new item appeared.

☐ First Kiss

“When did you…?” Your head shifted back from the addition. “A kiss? Who’s that for?”

Turning confusion to your partner, you watched as an mechanical arm emerged from his battle shell. Tipping to watch it, there was a bit of green with white dotting tied up in a purple ribbon and just like that you were in your early twenties again.

Shy and at your first Hamato Christmas, you and Donnie had a brand new situationship that had started up at nearly the same time the temperatures had dropped. Nerves had him inviting you along with a flurry of worries over what you were about to be thrust into. Naivety meant you wrongly brushed him off and, it was after unknowingly boarding a rollercoaster, you had snuck away for a breather in the hall. Not second guessing your decision to pursue the purple turtle, but instead having so quickly agreed to meeting his family after what hadn’t even been 30 days, you exhaled and prepared to reenter the foray when he met you.

“There you are.” He caught your visage and softened. “You alright?”

“Yeah… just… you were right.” You gave an awkward laugh.

“I’d usually gloat, but it is a holiday.” He teased.

You chuckled as he came in to grab your hand with what looked like an offer on his lips.

“Boom!” Leo exploded a flurry of limbs into the moment causing the pair of you to back up against the wall. The slider slammed his arm between you both causing you to yelp.

“Nardo!” Donnie growled.

“You’ve been hit by!” Leo dodged a swipe from his brother with a pose.

Donnie leapt at him a second time.

“You’ve been struck by!” Leo avoided the attack a second time with finger to the air.

“Enough!” Donnie squared himself and you knew he was about to go for his weapon.

Leo stopped him with a finger pushed right into the genius’ forehead. “A smooth mistletoe!”

Fleeing with a flurry of giggles, Donnie sat a fuming mass staring after where his brother had gone where you had the wherewithal to turn toward the wall Leo had accosted. There, stuck with far too much duct tape was a sprig of mistletoe, obviously coordinated for this brother based on the color of its ribbon. “Uh… Donnie…” You paled.

“Infuriating! He was just loafing around and now he-!” Donnie spun around, saw the dismay on your face, and then the bit of greenery on the wall. “O-oh…”

“It’s a silly tradition!” You squawked. “Y-You were g-going to say something. I think!?”

“That…” He stepped closer, resuming his earlier position by your side. “… we could sneak away… That I know a good Chinese place…”

“T-that sounds good, we should go!” You went to grab his arm and flee when he steadied you by catching your appendage first.

“One… last thing…?” Donnie flicked his gaze to the mistletoe and back to you, beet red. “If you’re… agreeable?”

You gave a jittery nod, your own face a blushing mess.

He leaned in to close the gap just as he was doing now. You melted against him with a coordination you hadn’t had all those years ago and slipped your arms around his neck to deepen the move further. Parting came with a nuzzle of nose to snout and a little giggle from you.

“Next would be getting that peking duck.”

“What a coincidence, my data indicates the group will be asleep for at least 3 more hours.”

“We should go…” You breathed against him, stealing another kiss.

He nodded with an agreement that neither of you bothered making good on.

💜

I plotted two version of this fic based on Digi's preference! I thought it'd be fun the include the other here: In a similar vein, the other fic was Sweet Ironnie where Donnie and Iris go all out to give the kids the best Christmas. Only problem is that they forgot to treat themselves for the holiday so the kids snare them in a mistletoe trap! Thank you @rheawritesforfun for hearing me out!

Also thank you @thepinkpanther83 for being a beta boss!

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #christmas #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

82 notes · View notes

morning-sun-brah · 2 years ago

Text

Here's my entry for the All 4-1 Challenge

Hosted by: @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @nittleboo @tmnt-tychou and @post-apocalyptic-daydream

Warnings; A little NSFW, a lot more angst than I was expecting, and definitely more fluff. Also an ATLA joke thrown in for @ordin-arily

Reader and Leo are in their mid 20's. Minors DNI!!

Hope you all like this! I chose the prompt; Reader continually uses TERRIBLE pick up lines on your choice of turtle, trying to drop the hint.

Rise Leo x Reader

On a Scale from One to America...

Leon going back to his usual charming self after a Kraang invasion had… taken a while.

He’d still been a quippy little fucker, to be sure. But with every new threat it was as though a little piece of his joy had been chipped away. And just because Kraang had been an actual nightmare, it didn’t stop New York from being a hotspot for criminal activity.

By the time he’d turned 17 the streets were full of rats, all under the control of some nutcase who called himself the Rat King, and he’d been almost 19 when that maniac had finally been put away for good. Then he’d spent the next three years dealing with a now adult Baxter Stockboy (who insisted he be called Stockman but like that was ever going to happen), whose mousers had run him and his brothers out of their lair and had almost killed April in the climax of it all.

They’d had only a two month stint of peace after that, and then, on the cusp of 22, some asshole who called himself New Shredder had decided he had a real vendetta against him and his brothers (get in line bud), and he’d once again nearly died trying to save his family. He’d nearly bled out all over the new lair and Donatello and Raph had disappeared for a week while he was healing- only to return with the grim assurance that New Shredder was no longer an issue (and Leo had refused to ask for details, not with the way Donnies eyes had glinted with malice when he’d opened his mouth to do so).

And now Leo is 24 and….

Fuck… had he ever been funny?

Any coping mechanisms he’d gained in childhood had turned quickly into just cope, and one liners were pushed to the side while in constant pursuit to keep his brothers alive. Make it another day. Keep breathing. Keep going.

It’s not about me.

So when he’d met you, it had been… jarring.

“I swear I know you,” you’d told him, standing near the harbor, the lights of Alberto Land flickering in the distance, and Leo had just raised a brow ridge.

“I’m literally out on the streets everyday saving this city’s ass.”

“No, no,” you dismissed him with a wave, “That isn’t it. We’ve definitely met.”

Before Leo can answer, you snap your fingers.

“Oh! I know! You look just like my next boyfriend.”

Leave it to April to make friends with a comedian.

But his brothers had all snickered, flocking to your easy wit and charm, and Leo had been unable to keep you away from them.

And truth be told, Leo was intrigued.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Leo glares.

“If not I’d be happy to-”

“Stop, no. That’s terrible!”

But you’d laughed and shrugged, throwing your arms around Mikey when he’d lifted you off the ground and twirled you about.

“April,” Leo had told her one night on patrol. “Your friend is broken.”

But April looked a little sad when she smiled at him.

“You sure it’s her?”

And yeah, that stung. Leo used to be like this. He used to be like you. Funny. Outgoing.

Happy.

Part of him hated you for being such a stark reminder of all he’d lost.

One night at Run of the Mill, you’d bounded up to him and with all the subtlety of a rock through a window had said, “I forgot my library card!”

“This is a pizza pla-”

“Now I can’t check you out!”

“I’ll fucking murder you.”

But he’d been unable to hide the little smile. When you’d looked victorious, he’d drown the look in a pitcher of beer, face pinched in a tight frown.

With the passing of his 25th birthday, Leo is finding the quiet on the villain front… concerning. He knew that it wasn’t a matter of if the next threat would come, but when it would show itself.

But the lull continued, and in it there was suddenly an abundance of free time. Free time where Mikey cooked nonstop and Donnie invented and Raph took up knitting. Free time where his brothers dragged him to bars and clubs and theme parks. Free time where he was forced to partake in comic cons and wrestling matches and art galleries.

Free time that felt wrong. Where was the next threat? Where was the next villain- if not on the distant horizon?

And through all this free time, all these leisure activities, there you were, like a cold he couldn’t shake. Plaguing his life with unwavering joy that always seemed like a spotlight on what he used to be.

“Pretty sure I’m getting a parking ticket,” you tell him one night in the lair, and when he doesn’t respond, just looks at you with a bored expression, you add, “because you’re so fine.”

Leo snorts. “That was awful.”

“Did it work?”

“It did not.”

Maybe it had worked a little, he decides later, fist tugging over his cock in the silence of his room, the whine of your name escaping his lips.

“You’ve gotta stop bringing her around,” he tells April, looking out at the living room where you sprawl over the couch, bare feet trying to pinch Donatello’s thigh while he growls at you to knock it off.

“Why? She loves you guys!”

Leon’s eyes narrow. “She’s gonna get hurt.”

“How?!” April had exclaimed. “Nothing’s going on!”

If possible, Leo’s frown deepens.

“Now why would you jinx us like that?”

“Leo,” April says with a sigh. “Even if another big bad shows up… she's an adult. She gets to choose if she wants to be in the line of that danger.”

That had done nothing to help Leo’s worry. It was incessant. Nagging. Something was going to happen. Something was bound to happen. They were Mutant Ninja Turtles. They lived a life that was not at all reflected of the peace they seemed to indulge in now.

But the peace stretched.

“Hey Leo, I heard you have a bone to pick with me,” you asked one night, the glow of a movie lighting up the hall from the living room to the kitchen, where you’d found him.

“If this is a pick up line…”

“Oooooohhhh, you’re right! That would have worked! Okay wait!” You flatten your hair and smooth out your smile.

“Hey Leo,” you say again, voice dropping to a sultry tone, cocking your hip. “I heard you have a bone for me.”

Leo shakes his head. “That is actually terrible.”

“No, no, you’re supposed to say; I don’t! Why would you think that? And then I’ll say; Oh then what’s that in your pants?”

It’s the moment he finally breaks.

Leo laughs.

“I hate you,” he says with a smile, and you smile back.

“Look at that, you look so nice when you smile.”

Something that feels like melancholy tugs at his heart.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll have to try it more often.”

And he does.

“You guys are from Tennessee, right?”

Leo shakes his head and presses his lips together.

“No.”

“Cause you’re the only TEN I SEE… Get it? Ten I see, Tennessee?”

“I got it,” Leo says, and he grins.

And he does smile more when you’re around. And he laughs, and he feels a little more at ease, a little less worried.

And his brothers notice.

“Look at you, Leon! I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh like that since we were kids!”

Leave it to Mikey to point it out.

“I laugh!” Leo insists.

Mikey gives what Leo feels is a very placating nod.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry bro, I think she likes you too.”

Leo hates that his baby brother hadn’t even needed to say your name to get his point across. He has to wonder, after that, how much his brothers encourage you, because your pick up lines get progressively more risque.

“Nice pants Leon! Think I can talk you out of them?”

“You look like you’re feeling down, want me to feel you up?”

Halloween makes its appearance, and in line to a horror movie you turn to him and ask, “Are you a haunted house?”

Leo squints at you. “Am I a haunted house? Where is this going?”

“Cause I’d scream if you were in me.”

Leo turns nearly as red as the stripes over his eyes.

“Too far?” you ask, also blushing.

“Keep it up,” he chokes out. “Keep on playing games and you’ll find out.”

“I don’t play games,” you tell him, both of you ignoring the way Raphael titters into his fist- clearly having heard the exchange. “I quit school cause of recess.”

“Oof, that’s rough buddy.”

He’s seeing your face a lot more when he jacks off though, and that is probably not a good thing. It’s there every time he closes his eyes and grips his cock, your name falling from his lips over and over like a chant or a prayer.

Then it’s a cold and snowy winter, and you’ve apparently had time to find more material to use on him.

“Had a doctor's appointment,” you tell him conversationally, flopping next to him on the couch, and he might be fooled if your lips weren’t already twitching.

“Yeah? You need a lobotomy?”

“Nah, Vitamin D deficiency. Think you can help?”

“... Vitamin D…?”

You just look at him, waiting, and finally it clicks.

“Ah. Vitamin D, got it.”

“D like dick,” you clarify.

“It’s less funny if you have to explain it.”

“But it is still funny, right?”

“Mmmhmm, you’re a regular Jimmy Fallon.”

“You take that the fuck back!”

You’re hitting him on the arm, pressing fingers into his skin and making him laugh, and by the time his brothers join you in the living room he’s got you pinned on the couch, tickling your sides and telling you to say uncle.

“Did we interrupt something?” Donnie asks with a smirk.

Leo shoots away from you, yelping “No!” at the same time you say “Yes!”

Leo takes a lot of hot showers that winter.

Spring comes, and it finally happens.

He’s supposed to stop by your apartment and portal you to the comic con, thereby avoiding all the pesky New York traffic from Brooklyn to Midtown.

“Hold on,” you call from your bathroom. “Can’t decide on which Jupiter Jim shirt.”

“Yeah, no rush!”

He looks around, snooping in your fridge for a bottled water and chuckling when he sees you’ve hung up the photo booth pictures from last summer on your fridge. The two of you looked… happy. Leo looked happy. And you looked at him like he was the sun. Like he wasn’t broken or damaged.

You looked at him like you were in love.

From behind him, he hears you clear your throat, and with a glance over his shoulder he sees you standing with hands on hips and a smile.

Something in Leo’s chest tightens. You’re so carefree. You’re so beautiful. You're his age, and you’d never had to worry about keeping your family safe. You didn’t have crows feet and a brow-chasm etched into your face from years of constant worry. Where Leo had spent the last handful of years bulking up so he’s be a veritable tank of a turtle, you were soft, pliant in all the places he was not

And yet…

“Are you thirsty?”

Here you were, about to use some awful, ridiculous pick up line on him.

On him.

“I’m broken.”

He just says it, because he needs you to understand.

Your smile falters a bit, lips tilting into a frown.

“Uh… what?”

“I’m broken. I don’t… I don’t know what you want from me.”

And maybe that had been the issue all along.

There is quiet that surrounds the two of you.

“I don’t think you’re broken.” You say.

You fiddle with the belt loops of your jeans, then add, “You know that we have met, right? Before all this?”

Leo can only shake his head.

“When… when Baxter sent out all those Mousers. You got a few of them off me, grabbed me up, and said- From one to America, how free are you tonight.”

Leo can’t help but make a face.

“Stop. I did not.”

You give him a warbling little laugh.

“Yeah, you did. And… even though it was a stupid little joke… I dunno. I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

You’re just looking at him, and Leo wishes he could remember what you’ve recalled. He’d have been 20, maybe a little younger or a little older, and that tracked. Life had yet to wear him down fully at that point. Of course he’d saved some young, pretty girl, and made some dumb joke before portaling off to play hero.

“So when we met again… and you didn’t look happy… I guess I just wanted to…”

You trail off, and Leo can’t help but ask, “Fix me?”

“No,” you whisper with a shake of your head. “You aren’t broken. But… you’re afraid? I just wanted to make you… happy.”

Leo does not cry. That would be stupid. In fact, he’s pretty sure he has allergies, because that is the best explanation for the way his throat seems to close up.

He does grab you up though. Pulls you to his plastron and holds you there like you’re a life line. Like you’re a buoy in an endless ocean, shelter in a raging storm.

He holds you tight and close, his grip on you firm, and when you rub your hands over the lip of his shell he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from sobbing into your neck like an actual baby.

When he can speak without fear of his voice breaking, he clears his throat and asks, “So, on a scale of one to America-”

Before he can finish you are pulling back, grabbing his cheeks, and standing on tiptoes to press your lips to his.

“Forever, Leo. For you, I’m free forever.”

#TMNT All 4-1 Challenge #TMNT All 4-1 #rottmnt fanfiction #fanfic #rise leo x reader #pwp #rise of the tmnt fanfiction #leonardo x reader

185 notes · View notes

iamnot-crazy · 8 months ago

Text

Trials of the Cloaking Brooch

░ Chapter 2 ░

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

ROTMNT

Summary: On his way to the Run of the Mill pizza, Leo spots out the corner of his eye a glint behind a trash can. He lingers over to investigate only to see a lost clocking brooch. Timidly he picks it up and twirls it in his fingers only to realize that he no longer had 3 green fingers but 5 human skin-toned fingers his eyes glance up at the semi-reflective trashcan to see a human form staring back at him. As he was about to investigate more, a beep from his phone caught his attention. it was a snap from April to the group chat with her and his brothers. He opened it up to see her lying on a desk with the caption "I'm sooooo bored." He glanced back up at the human reflection and an evil glint appeared in his eyes. He stood up shoving his phone back in his pocket and began his walk to April's school.

A/N: This is a book I am almost finished within A03 I wanted to post it here as well here is that link if you prefer to read it there. https://archiveofourown.org/works/41621709

---

April finished her Interview with Alsie, so the two make their way out of the office to find Leo jumping up and down and cheering with one of the other club's officers. April smiled to see him making friends so quickly. Leo was the most social of the turtles the others were fine with being in the sewers away from the outside world she could always tell Leo felt otherwise despite the mask he puts up.

"Leo! let's go," April waved for Leo to follow her. Leo immediately nodded before shaking the hand of everyone and then grabbing the deck he received from Alsie. He then skipped his way over to April.

"LEO! Will you be at our next meeting?!" One of the officers yelled as they left. Leo turned around to see the other officers waiting for his answer and Alsie leaning back in the doorway to the connecting office smiling an approving smile as she awaited his answer. Upon seeing her Leo straightened up with a large smile.

"You can count on it!" He shouted in response before spinning back around and out the door with April.

"You look like you had fun today," April remarked looking at his large smile.

"I didn't realize this nerd game was some much fun!" He exclaimed holding up his new deck of cards.

April laughed at his excitement happy to see him so happy, "so you never told me where you got this brooch?" She questioned looking at the golden star-shaped brooch that hide under his blue jacket.

Leo looks down at it almost forgetting that it was there, "oh I found it by a dumpster." He shrugged before turning his attention back to his deck of cards.

"Weird those things are pretty expensive. I wonder if the person who lost it is looking for it?" April wonders out loud grabbing the brooch to investigate it.

Leo quickly yanked the brooch out of her hand defensively, "well finders keepers!"

April yanks her hand towards her chest and stops walking surprised at his sudden defensive behavior but Leo keeps walking down the street ignoring her confused stares. Out of the corner of his eye, Leo saw something to change the current subject. A smile appeared on his face as he looked inside the human pizza place and sees his human reflection standing in the crowded restaurant waiting in line. Everyone around his reflection was laughing and smiling with their friends and family enjoying pizza while he stood there with them.

"Let's grab a slice for Los hermanos!" He shouted, without even waiting for April he runs into the restaurant and joins the queue. He looks around giddily as no one even glanced in his direction or flinched at his appearance.

April was not far behind him joining him in line, Leo leans over to whisper to her, "can you believe it April no one is looking weirdly at me and I don't have to wear a funky disguise or anything!" His smile beamed, lighting up the room. April smiles letting him enjoy himself as he looks around at everyone.

When they finally reached the counter the tired teenager barely looked up at Leo before asking for his order, Leo cheerfully ordered six pizzas for his brothers, splinter and April. They finally left the restaurant with six pizza boxes as Leo skipped to the nearest entrance to the sewers.

He lifted the manhole for April to begin her climb down before following carefully closing the manhole cover. Once they reach the bottom April started to make her way towards the lair only for Leo to quickly grab her by the shoulder she looked up at Leo who let off a serious tone but his eye held a pled to them "Can you promise not to tell my brothers?" He asked.

April gave a soft smile and responded with a nod after today she can see how happy being a normal human has made him feel. Knowing his brothers they will probably be a little hurt by how much fun he had today being a normal human and not a mutant turtle or they will try and steal the brooch from him.

Leo smiled at her response before taking off the brooch and returning to his turtle form. He looked down at the golden star when shifting it in his hand his reflection changed from his human form to his turtle form, he smiled happily before placing it in his side pouch for safekeeping.

As the two approached the lair Leo immediately shouted, "PIZZA!" and the three brothers came running out of their spaces and into the center space immediately grabbing a pizza box of their own and digging in. Splinter slowly walked out of the living room to join the boys, and April as they all sat on the floor telling each other about their day, everyone but Leo. Donnie looked over at his usually talkative twin smiling as he half listens to Raph's team training ideas and half looked at the pizza thinking about something.

**Next day (Wednesday)**

All four of the brothers were in Donnie's Lab today working on projects, Mikey and Donnie were working together on a project over by Donnie's desk. Raph and Leo were using one of Donnie's whiteboards to plan out some combo moves that will work well with all of their mystic powers and Donnie's tech.

Donnie looked over at Raph and Leo to see they had one and a half boards filled with drawings and figures. But Donnie noticed something off about his twin as he began fidgeting in his seat, his foot tapping like crazy and he kept checking the time. Donnie raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth ready to ask his brother what was wrong when Leo jumped out of his seat and grabbed the expo marker out of Raph's hand. Leo scribbled on the board as he spoke a mile a minute about some kind of combo move. Ralph took a step back in confusion as Leo filled the remaining bit of the board.

Once Leo finished he place the marker down before clapping his hand together, "alrighty well now that that is done I'm going to go get some fresh air!" He announced before disappearing out of the Lab leaving the three brothers confused. Raph shot a look at Donnie almost to ask him I'd he knew what was going on, he shrugged before standing up to follow his twin.

"Wait, Donnie! What if we do this!" Mikey shouted before grabbing at some wires in their open project as soon as he did a small explosion sent him flying out of his seat both Raph and Donnie went running to his side forgetting about the oddity of their other brother's exit.

Leo first ran to his room to grab his magic deck before skipping to the ladder that lead out of the sewer and reaching for the broach in his pouch. He secured it to his chest and then looked down at his ten fingers and glanced down at the sewer water to confirm his human reflection. He smiled and gave himself a wink before climbing out of the sewer.

He made it to the school just in time for the bell to ring and students began filing out of the school as he shuffled past everyone and followed the path April lead him down yesterday to the room MTG was hosted.

He turned the corner of the open door where Alsie and the three other MTG officers were gathered. The redheaded girl looked and smile at Leo, "welcome in Leo!" She greeted, "we are just going over meeting notes from yesterday give me a minute and I'll be right with you." She then diverted her attention back to the officers and their meeting which Left Leo to wander.

Leo made his way over to the back shelf where they kept the extra decks. He looked at the different color decks and grab the white deck with the lion on it. Opening up the deck he looked through the cards and what they do.

Alsie then snuck up behind him and slide her way beside him, her body angled towards him as she stood inches away from him, "I see you're looking at the white deck." She leans onto the counter and tilted her head to be completely in Leo's line of sight. Leo looked at her soft smile and nodded. "Did you want to play a round with the white deck then and I'll play the blue deck", she suggested as she reached for Leo's blue deck that he placed in front of him.

Behind them, the three officers broke into a fit of laughter causing Leo to turn around to look at them. The three boys were whispering to each other and all smiling and laughing while looking in Leo's direction. As soon as they made eye contact with Alsie they immediately stopped laughing and began giggling to themselves.

Alsie rolled her eyes and grabbed Leo's blue deck and two play mats and made her way over to an empty table. She placed the two mats down across from each other and sat down and began shuffling her deck. Leo quickly followed and mimic her shuffling. "Do I need to go over the rules again?" Alsie asked.

"Of course not I got this nerd game in the bag!" Leo says confidently.

Alsie giggles as she finishes her shuffle, "well then let's see what you got!"

"What!? How!?" Leo shouts as he stood up.

Alsie laughed at his frustration, "I told you I wasn't going to let you win this time."

Leo gained his composure back as he straightened himself and fixed his jacket. He shoved his hand in his pockets and leaned back, "pure luck next time I'll beat you!"

Alsie smirked tilting her head, "I look forward to it."

The officers began laughing again gaining Leo's attention once more. He looks over to see the three hovering over a computer making a flyer of some sort. They were making kissy faces at Alsie from behind Leo as soon as they realized Leo was looking at them they stopped and giggled to themselves again.

Alsie was glaring at them a fume of anger surrounded her, as soon as Leo looked back at her the anger dissipated and was replaced with a soft smile. "What's with them?" Leo whispers cupping his hand over his mouth to direct his question to Alsie.

Alsie shot a glare over in the boys' direction, "They are just really annoying!" She snarled. A beeping noise came from Leo's phone gaining his attention. He looked down to see it was now 4:30 and Donnie was asking where he is. Leo rubbed the back of his neck, "Gah it looks like I gotta go."

"Alrighty then," Alsie says as she begins picking up the cards. "Will you be coming back tomorrow?"

Leo brighten up at the invite, "of course so that I can beat you!" He challenges.

Alsie smiles, "Awesome I'll see you then."

Leo grabs both the blue and white deck and walks out of the room. as he leaves he can see from the corner of his eyes the three guys laughing as Alsie takes an empty deck box and pitches it at one of their heads.

**(Thursday)**

Leo thought sneaking out of the sewers would be easier today as all his brothers were in the arcade trying to beat Leo's impossible high score on the Atari Football game. Quietly snuck out of the arcade as his brothers cheered on his youngest brother Mikey as played the game.Leo first went into his room to grab his magic decks before heading to the sewer exit. Once he turn the corner he saw none other than his twin standing guard on the ladder. Leo fumbled trying to hide his decks behind his back. "Leo" Donnie welcome looking up to see his brother approaching.

"Donnie! What's up? My favorite twin!" Leo greets him with a large fake smile receiving a glare from his brothers.

"Alright, Leo what is going on?" Donnie interrogated he crossed his arms and stepped away from the ladder.

"Whatever do you mean?" Leo defended but his body tensed up.

Donnie shook his head and pinch the bridge of his nose, "Leo, you are a terrible liar. Just tell me what's going on."

"Nothing is going on my dear brother." Leo lied as his smile grew to mask his lie.

"Then where are you going?" Donnie pushed.

"Uhh, April's..." Leo lied again his hand clutching the decks which Donnie noticed. One of Donnie's metal arms shot out of his shell and sped to grab the items behind Leo's back before Leo can react it yanked the decks out of his hands.

"Magic the Gathering cards? Where are you playing magic?" Donnie questions while he investigates the decks.

"With April." Leo then makes his way over to Donnie grabbing the decks out of his hands, "April did this interview with the magic club and got into the game and then got me into the game" Leo then walks past Donnie and to the ladder, "so I'm meeting up with April so we can play."

Donnie didn't seem to like the answer but it was clear it was the only answer he was going to get out of his twin. So he watched as his brother climbed the ladder and out of the sewers.

Leo let out a breath of air once he made it to the surface and closed the manhole. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his clocking broach and place it on his chest before making his way to the school.

Leo opened the classroom door to see Alsie sitting on top of a desk next to an unfamiliar guy."That's her Ex-boyfriend." Someone whispered next to Leo causing him to jump. He looked over to see one of the officers Leo known as charlie, he was the youngest out of the group being a freshman to everyone's senior he had brown hair and was as skinny as they come. He was sitting at the desk close to the doorway with his laptop open working on some kind of homework. Leo walks over taking a seat next to him the other two people in the room haven't taken notice of Leo's entrance.

"Where is everyone else?" Leo asked.

Charlie just shrugged, "it's Thursday not everyone hangs out today unless they need to work on something or if you're like me and stuck waiting for your cousin to give you a ride home."

"Alsie is your cousin?" Leo questioned but just received a nod from Charlie as he continues his work.

Leo looks up at the couple on the other end of the room with their back facing him. He wore a football shirt and his arms looked like they were about to tear apart with how big his muscles were. He had a notebook out that he was jotting down notes and Alsie was pointing to things in the book and explaining whatever she was pointing to. Leo tried his best to listen to what they were saying but to no avail.

"What are they talking about?" Leo ask Charlie who looked up for a second to analyze what his cousin was doing.

"Most likely football plays, Alex is the quarterback and there is a game tomorrow. Alsie is good at strategizing so he likes to get her opinion on plays." Charlie replied before returning to his homework.

"Football you say." Leo ponder with a grin before he stood up and started making his way over to the couple.

"Hey, Alsie!" Leo waved as he walked over to them.

Alsie jumped up at her name and turned to see Leo. As soon as she locked eyes with Leo she jumped off the desk and away from her Ex, "Leo you came!" She said happily.

"Of course, I told you I was going to beat you at magic today," Leo responded cheekily. "What are you two up to?"

"Alex is the quarterback and he came by to run some plays by me," Alsie explain and pointed to the notebook with X's and O's and arrows.

"I'm trying to come up with something new because the team we are playing against tomorrow has all our plays memorized," Alex explains as he hits the notebook in frustration.

"Football plays you say," Leo says as he rubs his chin and gives a cheeky grin, "lucky for you I'm just the man to help with that!" He then snatches the notebook out of Alex's hand and began writing. "Just this morning I got a score of 99 to 0 on Atari Football a perfect score, so your looking at the king of awesome football plays!" Leo gloats as he filled the notebook with 4 unique plays before handing it back to Alex.

Alex and Alsie looked over the plays making a few comments about what players would do best with the different plays before Alex snapped the book closed, "wow Leo this may work!" He pats Leo hard on the back, "thanks, my dude!"

Leo flicked his hair and stood proudly, "it's only right of me to share my amazing gifts!"Alex broke out laughing patting Leo's back with every laugh, "you're real funny my dude!" He then grabbed all his stuff, swinging his bag onto his shoulder leaving the second strap hanging, "I gotta go show this to coach but I'll see you at the game right, Leo!"

Leo smiled, "yeah sure!" He then turned to Alsie who grinned at him before jumping into the desk.

"I didn't know you knew football, I thought all you homeschool kids ever did was study and watch TV." She laughs.

"Well my brothers and I have an Atari system and the football game just so happens to be my favorite," Leo explains all of a sudden getting flustered.

"That's so cool, how many brothers do you have?" She asked leaning closer to be more engaged with their conversation.

"Well I have an older brother Raph, my twin Donnie, and my little brother Mikey," Leo stated and counted on his fingers. He quickly had to fix himself as he went to the other hand to count the third brother instead of pointing up three fingers on one hand. He is still not quite used to having five fingers instead of three.

"Oh wow, that's a lot! I bet your parents have a handful," she exclaims.

"How about you do you have any siblings?" Leo asked.

"Nope, it's just me and my pops. What are your brothers like?" She questions diverting the conversation back to Leo.

"Well Raph is big and strong always coming up with the plans, Donnie is super techy, and Mikey is very artistic. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only brother that doesn't have anything going for them." Leo confesses.

"Honestly thought you would be the one making all the plans?"

"Well I do on occasion but since Raph is the oldest everyone listens to him."

"Interesting well if it's anything I think you're super cool and smart, not a lot of people can think up such unique strategies and that makes you super cool." Alsie smiles flirty at him immediately sending making Leo's head explodes as blood flushes to his face.

Leo stamped rubbing the back of his neck thinking of what to say next when he looks slightly out the window to see none other than Donnie flying past the window. Leo froze as he watched all three of his brothers chasing after something in front of the school.

Alsie noticed Leo's gaze and followed it upon seeing the mutant turtles she jumped up in delight and ran to the window. "Oh, mi gosh! It's the mutant turtles!" She shouted excitedly gaining Charlie's attention who ran to the window to join her.

"I uh got to go!" Leo tries to excuse himself.

"Wait! Before you leave I have a question" Alsie demanded, "would you like to..." She rubbed her arm for support, "would you like to go to the football game with me tomorrow?"Leo shot her a wide smile, "yeah, that would be cool." Leo then made his b-line after his brothers.

#writing #rottmnt #rise leo #rise of the tmnt #rise mikey #rise donnie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt oc #rise oc #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise

13 notes · View notes

scarletinkthelibrarian · 8 months ago

Text

OC x Canon Week, Day 2 - "Flirting Behind The Sheets"

Mundane tasks/"Seriously, I mean it. Thank you."

(with Leonardo from TMNT, 2007 movie)

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

<<Seriously, Leo, you don't have to.>>

<<But I want to.>> The turtle replied, carrying the laundry basket and walking ahead of the short blonde toward the washing line outside the cabin. <<And we're used to help whenever we come here, so I'd feel lazy not helping you.>>

<<I could call you a lot of things, but certainly not "lazy", be sure of that. And thank you, anyway, seriously.>>

Leonardo took discreetly a look toward the cabin while they shook the first sheet: April and Casey were out in the near town for grocery shopping, he saw Master Splinter meditating under a tree on the other side and Raph, Donnie and Harper were busy in the garage arguing about the possibility of doing some modifications on the Turtle Van. The only one who's whereabouts he was uncertain was Mikey, but considering last time he saw him his younger brother was carrying with him a folder of the latest "Sandman" comics, so he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be snooping around them.

So, as soon as he got closer to Ginny while they folded the sheet before hanging it, he closed furtherly the space between them. By pressing his lips to hers for the briefest of kisses.

<<Happy to be of assistance.>>

<<Leo!>> She gasped in surprise, instinctively whispering and turning her head toward the wooden house to check if someone had seen them before looking back up at him.

<<What?>> He smirked at seeing her reprimanding expression.

<<Was this an excuse to flirt?>> She questioned him as they secured both ends of the sheet on the line with pegs. Which gave her the chance to grab one of his hands and pull it toward her own lips, her blue eyes glinting with mischief as she placed a kiss on the back of it.

<<Because two can play this game, you know?>>

They did finish hanging the rest of the laundry basket's content, but they also did end up taking longer than it was supposed to.

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

A little bit of context here: Leonardo and my OC, Ginny, had a long story of mutual pining and pushing each other away before actually ending up together. So, when they finally decide to give a romantic relationship a try, they keep it a secret for a while to test the waters between them.

The problem is that they're the Ross and Rachel of the group, so everyone actually already suspects or is sure that they're together and they just pretend not to know to let them test the waters in peace...

While also being shippers.

#tmnt #tmnt 2007 #tmnt leonardo #oc x canon week #oc x canon week day 2 #leonardo x oc #tmnt oc

10 notes · View notes

nightshadesmusings · 9 months ago

Text

Ethanol and Mothballs

Word Count: 2.1k This short story is inspired by the museum collections that I visited during my January paleontology class. All of the pictures used are mine and were taken at the various museums we visited. I'm super excited to share this story with y'all, and hope you love it as much as I do!

The halls of the museum are quiet. The day has ended, night plunging the rooms into eerie darkness. Gone are the copious beams of sunlight flowing through the windows. They now show only the gray haze of the city's night sky, plunging the marble halls into obscurity. It's the end of the hustle and bustle of tourists, of the cheerful shouts and giggles of children, and more subdued conversations of adults. The darkness is broken only by the flashlight beams of security guards working the graveyard shift.

Occasionally, their light settles on the bones of long-dead animals resting peacefully in their wire armatures, casting odd, distorted shadows across the walls. The umbral forms of prehistoric fossils dance with the shadows of the guards, brought halfway to life only briefly by their light.

The silence is broken only by footsteps on carpet, the whirring of the climate systems, and the building's occasional creak and groan. All is still as it should be; quietly resting after the long day. It would seem that the museum dies at night.

I open my eyes, hearing the slosh of fluid around me as I shakily stretch, limbs hitting the hard edges of my tub. I groan, my voice gravelly from disuse. Finally, it's time to wake up. I sit up, my poorly adjusted eyes only seeing the occasional glint of light reflecting off the trails of ethanol crisscrossing the floor. My muscles are cramped; I barely see my pale limbs tremoring in front of me. I shake, struggling to find a grip on the sterile stainless steel until I manage to grab the edge of the tub. Slowly my eyes adjust to the welcoming darkness, a wonderful reprieve from bright fluorescent lights. The air is thick with the smell of ethanol. Always ethanol here, it clings to everything and everyone, a constant reminder of the place where we reside.

As my vision improves, I can make out the shapes of the shelves in the darkness. They stand in a puddle of ethanol, trails and prints radiating in all directions from it. My tremors slowly subside as my body fights the vestiges of the cold sleep.

I watch a snake slither out of its jar, landing in the ethanol puddle with a quiet plash. It's quickly followed by its jar-mates, then the frogs from the jar next door.

The soft sloshes are interrupted by a loud series of splashes and thrashes coming from a large tub on the far side of the wet lab. The smell of ethanol intensifies as the massive alligator snapping turtle inside sends liquid everywhere in his energetic bid for freedom. I climb out of my tub, walking off the stiffness and the last of the tremors before pulling the turtle out by the back of his shell.

“Happy wake-up, Troy,” I say as he starts to wander around the room, leaving behind a broad, messy ethanol trail. He opens his mouth wide, looking straight at me. I’m never sure if that's his version of a smile or a death threat.

The shelves are alive, undocumented insects trundling among their more well-known friends. One jar spews hundreds of tiny snails as they crawl over each other and to the ground, trailing ethanol instead of mucus. I twist off the lid to another snail jar; this one is always particularly stubborn. As I pull off the lid, a giant African land snail creeps out onto my arm.

“Yeah, alright buddy, we can go for a walk. Stretch your, er, foot.”

Snail crawls up my torso and onto my shoulder. I gently pat them between their eyestalks and scratch their shell.

“Just give me a second to let the fish out,” I say, unscrewing the lids of the fish jars and letting them swim out into my large tub, “Have fun, guys. It's not much, but it's better than being stuck like sardines in a can. Or a jar, I guess.”

Troy the snapping turtle shuffles over to watch them schooling.

“You can't eat anymore, remember? None of us can. Don't try it, Troy.”

He opens his mouth, giving me another smile/death threat.

“Thank you.”

I slide Dr. MacMorgan's I.D. out from under a dusty, overlooked jar of rhino beetles on the top shelf. I'm grateful for the museum's leniency in issuing him a second I.D. after this one went missing. He claimed he lost the thing, after all, his eyes “aren't what they used to be,” and his memory “is full of cotton wool these days.” I think the curator also helped to fast-track the process. She definitely didn't ask many questions.

Anyway, I had a garden snail steal the I.D. so that I could walk around collections. What can I say, I got tired of only exploring when the man forgot it in the piles of paperwork on his desk. Feelings and federal laws don’t matter much when you’re dead. Besides, now I can go check out the new research posters they put on the walls. It's nice to know that they're still using us for something.

I swipe the I.D. and step into the hall. The smell of ethanol fades as the door to the wet lab closes. Snail crawls onto my head for a better view as I step into the bathroom and look at our reflection. The light turns on automatically as I walk in, and I wince as my eyes struggle to adjust. I look at myself in the mirror; my cheeks are sallow, cloudy eyes sunk into yellowed skin. A little worse for wear, but not bad, I haven’t aged a day. I examine my arms, running my fingers over the relatively new needle-hole in one of them. It showed up a few months back, but it’ll never heal. Presumably, it was for a tissue sample; I wonder what they’re using it for. I have been dead and pickled in ethanol for a while, it was about time. Snail (who I seem to be wearing as a hat) looks a little better-preserved, but their body still has that yellowish color that all wet lab residents tend to get. My snail hat waves their eyestalks towards the door emphatically.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” I say, stepping back out of the bathroom and into the darkness of the halls. “Where to now?”

They crawl down to my forehead, waving their left eye stalk in front of my eye.

“Alright, fossils it is. I know you like the shark teeth.” They do a move resembling a one-snail wave in appreciation. I smile, heading through the maze of nearly identical corridors. I see the light of a flashlight ahead and duck into an empty office, narrowly avoiding someone. It's probably just a grad student returning from the vending machine with their energy drink. I wait until the light is gone and slip back into the halls.

“Hey look! They extracted my DNA and used it to do some stuff. That explains the needle hole in my arm,” I say, pointing out a poster on the wall. I step close so that Snail can read it. At least, I think they can read. Their eyestalks scan over the lines of text and appear to understand as they pull back.

They settle back on my forehead and I set off once more, finally reaching the thick, heavy door to the fossil collections. I scan the I.D. and the light blinks green, letting me in beyond the large gray door. We are hit with the strong smell of mothballs and the crisp, strictly temperature and humidity-controlled air. The lights turn on automatically, illuminating the rows of open shelves and closed metal cabinets.

I walk down the aisles, waiting for Snail to stop me and gesture to whatever cabinet they find interesting. When they do, I open the door. All of the drawers are labeled “glyptodon,” so I pull out a random one. Snail crawls off of me and onto the cabinet, eye stalks investigating the giant armadillo fossils. Mostly osteoderms, the bony bits right under the skin, but some teeth and small bones. When they’re satisfied, I close the cabinet and open a nearby one.

We proceed in a similar fashion for a while, opening whatever cabinets strike our fancy and stopping to admire the fossils inside. Snail crawls back onto my head and we look at the skulls that rest on the open shelves. There are plenty of mammoths and mastodons, recognizable by their massive teeth. The mammoth teeth are more flat, while mastodons’ are more pointy unless they’ve been worn down a lot.

I run my hand along the glossier fossilized enamel, wondering what the fossils would get up to if they could move around at night. They’re just rock-ified bones (the fancy descriptor is permineralized), so they’d fall apart, assuming that they hadn’t already. The Earth is a blender, or so I hear.

Snail prefers the smaller fossils, so they’re content to stay on my head as I trace the contours of huge tusks, dino bones, and skulls. It’s crazy to think that some of this stuff is still closer in age to spaghetti than to the beginning of life. It sure seems like it’s been fossilized for ages. And then some paleontologist dug it up and encased it in plaster and a volunteer put in thousands of hours to clean it up.

“Having a nice wander?”

I jump, snapping abruptly out of my thoughts. The voice comes from behind me. Snail retreats into their shell, still on top of my head. Act like a normal person. One who hasn’t been dead and preserved in ethanol for fifty years.

“Hi! I uh, have a really bad skincare routine!”

She laughs. I turn around. It’s the museum curator. She’s wearing a headlamp; it’s still turned on. She raises a hand to turn it off since it’s not needed in the automatic lighting of the fossil collections.

“That tends to happen when you’re a wet lab specimen.”

“You know about that?” I ask as Snail peeks out of their shell, eyestalks fixed on her. The curator’s gaze tracks up at them, then back to my cloudy eyes.

“Yes. How do you think MacMorgan got a new I.D. so quickly?” Seeing my look of concern, she adds, “I don’t mind if you leave the wet lab, as long as you don’t make a mess.”

“Uhh… okay…” I say, still trying to process the new turn of events.

“Some people think that this building is haunted. I see why they would say that. I passed you in the hall earlier, you look very sinister,” she says, smiling.

“That was you, with the light? I thought it was a grad student! Dammit, I need to be more careful,” I reply, looking perturbed.

“You could, or you could keep letting the world believe that this building is haunted.” The curator seems to be enjoying this conversation. She reaches out a hand to pet Snail’s shell. After a few moments, she speaks again, “It can be our little secret.”

“You’re not scared by me? I’m literally dead and pickled, how are you fine with this?”

She laughs again. “I used to work in a wet lab, I’m quite accustomed to seeing preserved organisms. And if you want to have a little fun at night, I suppose I can continue to turn a blind eye.”

I nod awkwardly, surprised by her casual demeanor. The curator holds out her phone, the screen showing a clock that reads 4:13 a.m.

“For now, it’s time to go back to bed,” she says as the screen turns off. I stare into my reflection in the black glass.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get back to wet lab,” I say, realizing that I’m starting to feel the sluggish feeling that heralds in the morning.

She smiles, turning her headlamp back on as we leave the fossil collections. The curator walks off, disappearing into the shadows of the halls as Snail and I hurry back home. I swipe the I.D. and duck inside, stopping for a moment as I’m hit with the strong smell of ethanol. I help Troy back into his tub, coax Snail into their jar, and gather up the fish swimming in my tub. We’re all much more sluggish as the morning starts to roll in, seeing the sky start to lighten through the window. At last, I collapse back into my tub, trying not to splash too much as I let the ethanol settle back around me.

I drift off into the long day, holding on to the memories of the night. My cloudy eyes don’t close as my muscles stiffen, ready to stay motionless for the next day in the bright lights of the lab. I could run these halls forever, reveling in the shadows of forgotten, forever preserved lives, permeated in the scent of ethanol and mothballs.

12 notes · View notes