#mikey is a Once Piece fan.

[theblorboscalledtheturtles]

This post got me thinking about how'd they manage their giant shirt collars.

single pic version and text under the cut

Raph: does not care Donnie: Resizes collar and puts in proper pleats (he is using a sewing machine) Leo: Just a simple gather at the nape (he is hand sewing) Mikey: Uses any fastener as a quick fix which inevitably falls off the moment he moves too much. (In the picture it's a chip clip)

[stellaspectral]

Could I request headcannons on how the rise! and 2012turtles would react to artist reader, who draws them for fun, is embarassed to admit it though but they catch a glimps of a drawing of them which they made? :)

A/N: Sure! 💖

Rise & 2012 Turts React to Artist!Reader

💚 ROTTMNT & 2012 Turtles/Gender Neutral Reader 💚

CWs: None. All characters are aged-up.

Rise!Leo

He’d spot your art with a smirk. “Well, well, well, what artistic endeavor are we hiding here?”

Once he realizes the artwork is of them, and especially him (hopefully in a dynamic, cool pose): “Oh ho ho! You’ve captured my good side! And my other good side!”

Finds it immediately hilarious and endearing. Like, “Aw, you’ve been drawing my perfect face this whole time?” 100% teases you about it but never in a mean way.

He’d absolutely lap up the attention, even if it’s accidental. He’d tease you good-naturedly about your “secret fan art.”

“Don’t be embarrassed! Clearly, you have excellent taste in subjects. Especially this handsome devil.” *finger guns*

Might start posing more dramatically around you “just in case” you want to draw him again. “You know, I am your muse now. That’s canon.”

Like he’ll dramatically fling himself onto the couch, “Oh, woe is me, struck by the sudden urge to be artistically rendered in a moment of heroic contemplation!” He’ll then wink.

Lowkey keeps checking your sketchbook when you’re not looking. Not to snoop—just in case you drew him again.

Rise!Raph

At first, upon seeing your art, he’d be like, “Huh? Whatcha got there?”

Once he sees it, especially if it’s a cool action shot of him looking heroic: “WHOA! Is that ME?! That looks SO COOL!”

He’d be genuinely impressed and flattered, not really understanding why you’re embarrassed. “Why hide this? It’s awesome!”

Raph will pretend he’s not paying attention, but he’ll definitely be flexing a bit more or holding his “cool big brother” stance a little longer if he thinks you might be drawing him.

Raph wouldn’t request, but if you drew a really good action sequence of him protecting his brothers, he’d stare at it for a long time with a big smile.

Gets all flustered but proud. Keeps sneaking peeks at your sketchbook like he doesn’t want to be caught doing it.

Sometimes acts nonchalant, but if you show him a drawing you’re proud of, he gets super shy.

If you ever draw him looking soft or happy, he’ll stare at it longer than he means to. Those are the ones he secretly likes most.

Rise!Donnie

He’d approach your art with scientific curiosity. “An unauthorized artistic rendering? Intriguing.”

He’d analyze the style, the accuracy of his tech and the anatomical proportions. “Hmm, the depiction of my battle shell’s articulation is surprisingly accurate. Did you have reference material, or is this from memory?”

He’d be genuinely impressed by the skill, even if his compliments sound a bit clinical. He might subtly suggest improvements for “technical accuracy” next time.

Probably starts asking technical questions about your process before realizing you’re blushing like mad. “Wait, you’re embarrassed? But you … nailed my jaw structure.”

Donnie might “casually” start working on a particularly intricate piece of tech nearby, angling it so you get a “good view of its complex inner workings, should you choose to document it.”

Donnie might offer to 3D print little maquettes of them for you to use as reference. “It would improve anatomical accuracy by at least 15%, though your current observational skills are, frankly, quite impressive.” He’d also be fascinated if you drew their mystic powers, analyzing how you interpret non-physical energy.

Starts leaving small upgrades for your drawing supplies—new pens, sketchpads, even a custom-built stylus if you’re digital.

Might ask if he can scan your sketches into his files for “data preservation.” (It’s 100% just because he wants to look at them.)

Rise!Mikey

Pure, unadulterated excitement upon seeing your art. “O! M! G! Is that US?! You DREW us?!”

He’d be bouncing off the walls, absolutely thrilled. “This is the COOLEST THING EVER! Look at me, I look so dynamic! And the colors!”

He’d be the most understanding of your shyness but also the most enthusiastic about getting you to share. “Aww, don’t hide it! This is amazing!”

Would probably hug you and the drawing (if you let him).

Mikey is your hype-man. He’d also try to “collaborate” by adding his own doodles or stickers to your sketchbook page if you let him (and sometimes if you don’t).

Wants to see every single page. Will not drop it even if you’re begging him not to look.

Might tape one of the sketches to the wall in the lair, claiming it’s “museum-worthy.”

Starts calling himself your “muse supreme” or “artspiration.”

2012!Leo

Sees the sketch accidentally while helping you pick up something. His leader instincts would kick in. “What’s this?”

Once he sees it’s them: a moment of surprise, then a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You … you drew us?”

He’d be quite touched. “This is … very good. You’re very talented.”

He’d be gentle about your embarrassment. “There’s no need to be ashamed. It’s clear you put a lot of effort into this.”

He’d appreciate the gesture deeply, seeing it as a sign of your trust and friendship, but might subtly ask if you’ve shown anyone else.

Leo might “coincidentally” practice his katana forms where you have a good vantage point, holding poses slightly longer. If you look up and catch his eye, he’d offer a small, encouraging nod before resuming.

“You drew me … with my swords out. That’s … really cool. And kinda flattering.” He’s a little shy about it but tells you he likes it. Probably doesn’t mention it again unless you bring it up, but will treasure the mental image. Secretly hopes there’s more.

Also secretly keeps a folded version of your sketch in a book or drawer. Doesn’t talk about it much, but it clearly means a lot. He’ll defend your art fiercely if anyone downplays it.

2012!Raph

“Hey, what are you hidin’?” Gruff as usual when he spots your art, but still curious.

Sees the drawing. Eyebrow ridge raises. A beat of silence. “… Is that supposed to be me?”

At first, he might joke a little to hide how touched he is. “Could’ve made me buffer, but okay.” Gets a little red in the ears. “Thanks … for drawin’ me, I guess.”

If you made him look tough and cool, a tiny, almost invisible smirk might appear. He’d scoff at your embarrassment. “What, you think it’s bad or somethin’? It’s … not terrible.” (Which is high praise from him).

Might try to act like it’s not a big deal, but he keeps checking if you’ve drawn him again.

If you catch him staring at a drawing for too long, he’ll grumble, “It’s not like I asked you to draw me lookin’ cool …”

You notice he starts sticking around longer when you sketch, trying to act casual. And he might leave little “suggestions” like: “If you’re gonna draw me again, maybe this pose would be cool. Just sayin’.”

Once, after a hard mission, you gave him a sketch of him looking strong and protective. He kept that one.

2012!Donnie

His initial reaction is genuine curiosity. “Oh, what have you got there?”

His eyes would widen slightly upon seeing the drawing. “Fascinating! Is that … us? Your grasp of our unique physiology is quite impressive! Did you use references? This foreshortening is impressive.”

He’d be technically complimentary. But then he looks up and sees you looking like you’re about to evaporate and realizes—oh. You were keeping that private.

He’d be understanding of your embarrassment. “Oh, please don’t feel self-conscious! It’s a wonderful piece of art. Perhaps you could even help me design some new tech interfaces with your artistic eye?”

He’d probably ask if he could scan it to “analyze the artistic rendering techniques for his database.”

Donnie might start explaining the mechanics of his latest invention to you in more detail, “hoping you can visualize it.” A subtle hint for you to draw it.

Donnie would scan them at high resolution and keep them in a password-protected folder on his T-Phone, possibly analyzing your evolving style over time.

He’d love a drawing of you and him working on tech together. He might even frame it in his lab.

2012!Mikey

Upon seeing your art: “What’s that?! Ooh, a drawing!” Then his jaw would drop. “NO WAY! YOU DREW US?! THAT’S AWESOME-SAUCE!”

He’d be incredibly hyped, grabbing the drawing (gently!) to get a closer look.

You’re dying inside but he’s already flipping through your sketchbook. “Why didn’t you show me sooner?! We could’ve been an artist team! I model, you draw—BOOM.”

He’d be completely oblivious to why you’re embarrassed, or rather, he’d try to overwhelm your embarrassment with pure enthusiasm.

Would immediately start posing and asking you to draw him right now.

Mikey would have a “super-secret awesome art stash” hidden somewhere only he (and maybe Ice Cream Kitty) knows about.

Wants to hang the art in his room. Constantly asks when the next “issue” of “Mikey Art” is coming out.

If you ever get insecure about your art, he’ll hug you tight. “Dude. You made me look awesome. That’s, like, peak talent.”

[4evermutated]

bayverse! April headcanons

because i hate the way megan fox was sexualised in the movies i wanna give her more personality than just being hot and smart 😭 i heart u bayverse April

- she thrifts! not just expensive 'real vintage' designer labels but everything, she also finds clothes than can be easily upcycled and tweaked for the boys. Her signature color is yellow so you KNOW she has rare and whimsical pieces she collects in her wardrobe

- speaking of which; she sews! Mikey often rips or breaks his stuff (like shoes and shirts) and hes always giving her bits and pieces to fix up. As much as Donnie is a tech wiz, Aprils expertise lies in the art of DIY! shes tried to teach Don how to sew but ironically its one of the few things he cant crack

- shes a stem nut, OBVIOUSLY! her and Don bond the most over new technology and the advancement of science and digital technology. her and Don made her a pc from scratch and its one of her most precious memories

- April has a really bad sweet tooth, when the guys get pizza for the rare nights in, she's reaching for Mikeys candy stash for sure (she makes sure to replenish it with all their shared faves)

- her favourite candy is anything sour! but actually sour, we're talking throat numbingly sour to the point where at the end of the bag all you taste is blood 💀 it freaks everyone out lmao

- she has a masters in journalism and a degree social sciences, its so important to her to give visibility to the stories rarely talked about. Shes very dedicated to her profession and genuinely gets mad that all vern cares about is attention from fans and the camera

- April is also very passionate about nutrition and fitness! she goes total big sister mode when the turtles neglect their protein intake especially with how big and physically demanding their jobs are. a few times she's tried to teach Leo how to cook for his brothers and hes just about learned how to not burn eggs on toast but shell be damned if she starts cooking for 4 6ft men 😭 respectfully not her job!

- she's incredibly protective of her friends, whoever they may be, even Vern. she doesn't take lightly to disrespect and she WILL trash talk you to silence if you make anyone she cares about feel less than

- when she was younger she wanted to be a zoologist or anthropologist. Like her dad, she's always had a love for science and research, but she loved animals so much as a kid and it crushed her when she realised her father was experimenting on animals

- she feels personally responsible for the turtles and Splinter, she visits them atleast once a night, whether on face time or in person. the fact that they feel theyll never be accepted in society weighs heavy on her heart. she wishes things were different

- she knows Mikey has a crush on her, but she doesn't know how to let him down gently and honestly doesn't wanna open that can of worms, so she just pretends she doesn't notice his very desperate flirting

- sleeper build april. SLEEPER BUILD APRIL. people treat her like shes fragile just because she's beautiful but shes also incredibly strong with amazing endurance. i mean hello?! SHE CAN RUN IN HEELS. thats badass

- she loves game nights w the turtles and Casey, she loves playing MK and her go-to character is ofc Mileena (goated and no im not biased)

- she may or may not have a dedicated collection of disguises for super sleuthing and recon. shes very proud of it and will give a tour if asked

- she wants to learn ninjitsu, just doesn't know if she should ask or wait to be asked. she feels awkward and sometimes wonders if its not her place, even though in reality Splinter would be happy to train someone so dedicated to justice.

- her favourite drink is banana protein smoothie!! the lair has a blender just for her 😭 they have to hide it from Mikey before he gets back into his liquid pizza phase again

- she likes hero comics/shows (like 2012 leo!). Naruto was her childhood and its kinda beautifully ironic that she's like a ninja by proxy now

thats all for now! its been like 5 years since ive written headcanons so sorry if the format is boring, lmk if you want more headcanons! ok bai

[comet-forgot-you]

Hii girlie, I wanted to thank you for feeding us every day🙏🙏 your fics are so good and I really appreciate that you make effort to post everyday(but don't overwork yourself!). I'd also like to ask if you could write anything for Sam Carpenter?? Thank you bb, ur awesome!!💖💖

hurry

sam carpenter x reader

summary: the drummer of your brother's band is hot.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, thigh grinding, mentions of previous events, fingering, marking, biting (just like once), almost caught but def not, i think thats all lmk if theres more. 

a/n: HEY GUYS DID U MISS ME??? enjoy this one in a million occasion of me writing for someone other than a mikey madison character😱😱 this is my first time writing for sam dont bully me im just a girl. do not repost for any reason.

your brother and his stupid band. the same one that gathered in the garage every saturday and played the same music every time. you usually never minded the music, but you were frustrated. the house was hot, the air conditioner was being worked on and the heat was really starting to get to you.

you were laid on the couch in the living room, stripped down to your sportsbra and shorts hours ago, trying your best to cool yourself down. the glass doors leading to your backyard were wide open, a small breeze flowing in. you didn't understand how they did it. how they practiced in the small, hot garage. it was much hotter in there than it was in the house, opening the garage door hardly helped cool it down.

the sound of the music stopped and a few minutes passed before the door leading to the garage opens and your brother walks out. you sit up slightly, looking over at him as he grabs his keys.

"where you goin'?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"to get a fan, it's hot as fuck in that garage," you brother mumbles, walking back to the garage. "why, need somethin'?" you shake your head, falling back onto the couch. the door closes and you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet house.

the sound of drums interrupt the silence and you can’t help the giddy feeling that washes over you. sam was still here, of course she was. you pull yourself off of the couch and walked towards the garage, eyes landing on her the second you opened the door.

fuck.

she was hot, you knew it, she knew it, but right now? with the way sweat coated her body, her arms on display due to the sleeveless shirt she wore? it forced a wave of heat to pulse through you. her muscles flexed with every beat of the drum, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she looks up at you, slowly coming to a stop. she pries a headphone out, nodding up at you. "hey," she says loudly. she cringes at the volume of her voice, “sorry, what’s up?”

a smile tugs at your lips. "hey, sam. didn't want to go with my brother?" you ask, stepping into the garage. sam shakes her head, grabbing the almost empty bottle of water sat next to the bass drum.

"nah, already hot as it is, didn't want to sit shoulder to shoulder in his small ass car with all of em'." she pulls her headphone case out, taking her other headphone out before stuffing it back into her pocket. you could feels sam’s eyes on you as you move to stand next to her, head tilting slightly as you look over the drums.

"want me to teach you how to play?" she asks. you down at her, biting the inside of your lip.

"sure," you mumble, taking the sticks she offered you. you stood awkwardly next to her, waiting for her to get up, but her hands find their way around your hips, pulling you to sit down on her lap. she holds onto the backs of your hands, moving them to beat against the drums softly.

her breath is hot against your neck as she whispers instructions. you try to listen, you really do, but the way her hands hold onto you, the way you can feel her chest flush against your back, it was so fucking distracting.

sam shows you how to play a small piece before she lets go of your hands completely. you miss it almost immediately. she bounces her leg slightly in an attempt to get you to repeat the motions she had just showed you, but the feeling of her thigh pressing into your clothed cunt has you surpressing a whine. you shakily reach out to beat against the drums, repeating what sam had just showed you.

"yeah, just like that," she mumbles. she holds onto your hips, the feeling driving you insane. her leg bounces against your cunt so nicely with every beat against the bass drum. you're overwhelmed, the feeling of her pressed against you, the way she unknowingly pressed into your cunt so perfectly, it was all so much and so so fucking good.

"fuck," you let out a quiet whine as sam's leg grinds against your cunt again. you lean back against the girl, drum sticks gripped tightly in your hands, your head resting on her shoulder. sam's arms move to wrap around your waist, a fake look of worry plastered on her face.

"you okay?" she asks.

you roll your hips against her thigh. "don't act innocent, sammy," you whine. sam traces her fingers across the exposed skin of your stomach. “you know what you’re doin’," you mumble. sam smiles, finger dipping into your waistband before pulling it back to let it smack against your skin. you arch into her touch, drumsticks falling to the ground.

“can’t help it, you look so pretty.” you pry her hands from around your waist before turning in her lap. a small smile paints her lips as she looks up at you, eyes blown with lust. her hands find their place on your hips again, yours holding her shoulders for support.

seconds pass before your lips are pressed against each other, sam guiding your hips to grind down on her thigh. quiet moans fall from your lips and sam’s quick to take advantage, pushing her tongue into your mouth. your hands tangle into her hair, tugging lightly to separate the two of you.

“need y’so bad, sam,” you mumble against the skin of her jaw. sam’s grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly when you suck a deep mark in her neck.

“your brothers gonna see that,” she mumbles in, pushing her hand into your shorts. “he probably saw the last ones, too,” you groan, memories of sam’s head buried between your thighs flashing through your head.

“shut up,” you whine, pulling away from her ever so slightly. “living room, need you so bad, please?” sam lets out a quiet groan, nodding her head. you smile, taking her hand into yours as you pull her into the cooler house.

you can barely make it to the couch, sam’s hands wandering all over your body. you push the brunette onto the couch, straddling her lap almost immediately. sam’s lips trails up and down your neck, pausing every once in a while to suck marks into your skin. she pushes a hand into your shorts and you quick to grind down against it, needy moans falling from your lips.

sam rubs your clothed clit, “just fuck me already, sammy, need it.” sam pulls your underwear to the side, swiping a finger through your soaked folds.

“fuck,” she groans. her hand holding your hip moving to wrap around your waist. “so wet, all for me?” you nod frantically, needy moans falling from your lips when sam prods your entrance with her fingers.

“yeah, all for you, promise. js’,” you pause for a moment, bucking your hips into her hand, “please.”

sam sinks two fingers into your cunt, curling them slowly, before pulling out completely, spreading your wetness to your clit. you let out quiet whimpers at the stimulation, her fingers gently teasing your pulsing clit. you call her name in a quiet whisper. its a plead you can’t help but let out. her actions send waves of heat surging throughout your body.

“hmm?” she hums against the skin of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her as her fingers sink back into your cunt. she’s gentle despite the aggression she took out on her drums mere minutes before.

she thrusts her fingers into you rhythmically, curling them to hit the spot that has you biting your lip to suppress the noises that threaten to slip out. sam’s free hand moves to cradle your haw, thumb tugging at your lip. she tsks, “none of that, you wanted me, let me hear you.” the demanding tone in her voice draws a whine from you. sam’s thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk at the feeling.

its not long before you’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm, sam’s thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit, finger’s pumping in and out of your dripping cunt so deliciously. the sound of your brother’s car has you whining against her neck, “better hurry up before they come in. wouldn’t want them seein’, hmm?” you let out a loud moan, biting her shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. sam lets out a hiss at the feeling. “unless thats what you wanted. wanted em’ to see you all slutted out for me.”

“no! no, please, fuck, no don’t want em’,” your sentence is cut off when sam’s fingers curl into you.

“come on then, cum for me,” she mumbles. your orgasm hits you seconds later, loud moans muffled in her neck. same pulls out of you, bring her fingers up to her mouth and licking them clean. the motion has you stifling a moan that threatens to escape. the sound of the large garage door opening has you pushing yourself off of sam’s lap, still struggling to catch your breath.

“go,” you mumble, cheeks warm from your previous activities. sam doesn’t move, her lips twitched up into a teasing smirk.

“why? don’t want em’ to see how much of a slut you are for me?” you roll your eyes, heat building in your core.

“shut up, sam. go.” sam smiles, pushing herself off of the couch.

“same time next week?” she jokes, walking back to the garage. you roll your eyes at her, a soft smile etching its way onto your lips.

“idiot,” you mumble beneath your breath.

reblogs much appreciated :D

[baby-tini]

Street Racer Mikey fucking a fan...

(BTW I AM SO IN LOVE WITH YOUR WORKS ❤️🤭😩)

You've always admired Manjiro Sano, you've been his biggest fan for months and he's all you thought about since you first saw him on the television, you'd always watch the races amd now you were finally able too go when your friend took you. Now, you've always liked motorcycles, found them too be fun and you always thought that they had this... appeal to them. That's why you were so honored too be in such a situation, that being, under Manjiro Sano himself. You didn't really think too much about approaching him, all you wanted was an autograph anyway, and he was more then happy too give you one. He was so sweet to you, he was like.. a sweet-talker, and you were just enamoured with this man. His black eyes were soft as he signed the autograph, a picture of himself and he was just so sweet and charming, chatting you up even after his autographs were over with. He had offered drinks back at his house and you were more then eager too go with him. Flying through the streets with him, on his prized CB250T, the loud engine roaring as he sped through the streets, the sharp wind causing your hair too whirl around through out the midnight air. His place was nice from the outside, but even more beautiful from the inside when you guys had gotten their, but his bed had been even more luxurious as he had laid you on the satin sheets. It smelled nice, quite a strong scent of a citrusy, yuzu and grapefruit with earthy tones of bamboo leaf and cypress, you knew he'd smell nice but it was just overwhelming in the best of ways as he placed sloppy kisses all over your neck, strings of saliva connecting from his tongue to your neck as he left pretty crimson and violet colored bruises on the once un-touched skin. The coordination was sloppy as you pulled and tugged at the others clothes, pieces of them ripping on both sides from the slight struggle. His hips were against yours before you could blink, pleading in your ear for you too let him in, please let him fuck you. He sounded do needy, not something you would've ever used too describe a man that looked like this, but the look in his almost pitch black eyes screamed, begged and gave you non-verbal pleas as you spread your legs for him, his eyes drifting down between your legs in an instant. He didn't give you time too breathe as he pushed inside, the rough skin of his hands enclosing around your waist as he held onto it tightly, attempting too ground himself. Your cunt tighten on him like a vice as he struggled too calm his racing heart from the soft velvet of your cunt, your slick gushing down the base of his cock in waves. The stickiness keeping him tightly enclosed from the narrow hug of your cunt.

"I guess you weren't lying about being my biggest fan, huh?... tightest too."

[mikeysonly]

In His Shadow - Manjiro Sano

♡ synopsis: enemies to lovers - mikey isn’t a fan of you returning to Toman for protection.

♡ content warnings: blood/violence, death/loss, angst

♡ note: I was listening to Take A Chance With Me - NIKI the entire time. I’m such a messssssss. ♡ note 2: dude this one is so long I’m so sorry I’m just going through it lol. also idk what timeline this is i just went off on my own. enjoy

The warehouse smelled like rust. Y/N stood in the shadows, leaning against the cold metal wall as the echoes of rowdy voices filled the space. The Tokyo Manji Gang hadn’t changed much, just bigger, louder, and far more dangerous than when she’d walked away a year ago.

And at the center of it all stood him.

Manjiro Sano, better known as Mikey, perched on a wooden crate like a king surveying his kingdom. His black hair caught the dim light, his face unreadable. The warmth she used to associate with him was long gone, replaced by a chill that made the air feel heavier.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Mikey said, his voice cutting through the noise. The gang fell silent.

Y/N stepped forward, ignoring the weight of what felt like a million stares. “I didn’t come here for you.”

“Then leave,” Mikey snapped, his tone cold. He didn’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not here to fight you. I need your help.”

At that, Mikey’s eyes finally flicked up to meet hers, and Y/N felt the familiar sting of his gaze. Black and unrelenting, like a storm she couldn’t outrun. “You need my help?” He mocked. “After you left? After everything?”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat but refused to back down. “Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I had another choice.”

Mikey slid off the crate and walked toward her slowly, each step deliberate. The gang watched in tense silence. When he stopped a foot away, Y/N could see the hardness in his features, the shadows under his eyes.

“You made your choice a long time ago,” he said quietly, his voice laced with bitterness. “You don’t belong here anymore.”

“I didn’t come to belong, Mikey. I came because there’s a threat bigger than your grudge against me. So put it aside for once.”

Mikey tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cruel semblance of a smile. “You think you can just waltz back in here and lecture me about threats? You don’t get to do that.”

Y/N felt the heat rising to her face but forced herself to stay calm. “This isn’t about me, Mikey. It’s about the gang.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, mock sincerity dripping from his words, “were you worried about us? Or was it guilt eating you alive, making you think you could play savior?”

The room felt smaller, the gang’s eyes on her. Y/N clenched her fists, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “Believe whatever you want, but if you don’t listen, people are going to get hurt.”

He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. “People have already gotten hurt, Y/N.” His voice dropped lower, sharp enough to cut. “And some of them didn’t survive. You think I don’t know that? You think I need you to tell me?”

Her breath hitched at the venom in his tone, but she refused to look away. “No,” she said softly. “But you’re acting like you’re the only one who lost something. Like you’re the only one who’s allowed to grieve.”

Mikey flinched, barely noticeable, but Y/N caught it. For a brief moment, the mask slipped, and she saw the boy she used to know.

But just as quickly, the wall was back up. Mikey turned his back to her, his voice clipped. “If you’re here to cry about the past, save it. We don’t need you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, but she stood her ground. “Fine,” she said, her tone sharper now. “You don’t need me. But when this blows up in your face and you’re left picking up the pieces again don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She turned on her heel, the gang parting silently to let her through. The tension in the air was palpable, but no one dared to stop her.

“Y/N,” Mikey’s voice called out, halting her in her tracks.

For a fleeting second, she thought she heard something softer in his tone, something close to the boy she used to know. But when she turned to face him, his expression was as cold as ever.

“I don’t want to see you back here.” he said, and the weight of his words hit harder than she expected.

Y/N didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She just walked out, her heart heavier than when she arrived.

—

That night, Y/N sat in her small apartment, staring at the faded photo of some of her favorite Toman members tucked into the edge of her mirror. Mikey stood in the center, a bright grin on his face, flanked by Draken and Takemitchy. Y/N was in the corner, laughing at something off-camera with Emma and Hinata.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. A single message lit up the screen:

Unknown Number: We know who you are.

Y/N’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t told anyone outside of Toman about her visit to the gang. But the message made one thing clear, someone was watching her.

And if they knew about her connection to Toman, then they knew exactly how to hurt her.

—

Y/N’s hand trembled as she gripped her phone, rereading the cryptic message over and over. The implication was clear: whoever sent it knew more than she wanted them to, and it wasn’t just a warning. No, it was a threat. She had walked away from Toman to avoid being dragged into the chaos, but it seemed chaos had found her anyway.

The weight of it pressed heavily on her chest. Mikey wouldn’t take this seriously unless it was in his face. He never did. The Mikey she used to know would have been the first to protect her, but this Mikey? The one who lashed out at anyone who tried to get close? She couldn’t be sure.

Still, she couldn’t just sit back and wait for something to happen. Her thoughts swirled, landing on a decision she didn’t want to make but knew she had to.

—

The Tokyo Manji Gang’s hideout was loud, alive with laughter and shouts, but Mikey barely registered any of it. He leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression blank.

He’d spent years perfecting the art of detachment. Coldness was easier than pain, easier than pretending he could save everyone. He was supposed to be their leader, their “Invincible Mikey,” but that title had started to feel like a joke.

Y/N’s voice echoed in his head, sharp and unyielding.

“You’re acting like you’re the only one who lost something.”

It pissed him off that her words got under his skin. It pissed him off even more that a part of him knew she was right.

“Mikey,” Draken’s voice broke through the haze, snapping him back to reality. Draken always seemed to know when Mikey was spiraling, even if he never said it outright. “You good?”

Mikey shrugged, pushing off the wall. “I’m fine.”

Draken didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “Y/N. What’s her deal?”

Mikey tensed, his jaw tightening. “Nothing. She doesn’t matter.”

Draken raised an eyebrow. “You sure? She seemed pretty serious about whatever she came here for.”

“She shouldn’t have come,” Mikey said curtly, his tone final. “It’s not our problem anymore.”

Draken frowned, crossing his arms. “You know she’s not gonna back off just because you told her to, right?. She’s never been like that.”

Mikey didn’t respond, turning away instead.

—

The next day, Y/N found herself walking through the busy streets of Shibuya, scanning her surroundings more carefully than usual. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, but every time she turned, there was nothing.

When she finally reached the convenience store on the corner, she grabbed a drink and headed to the counter. The clerk handed her the change with a small smile, but as she turned to leave, a piece of paper slipped into her bag caught her attention.

“You should’ve stayed gone.”

The blood drained from her face as she crumpled the note in her hand. Her heart raced, the warning a confirmation that whoever this was, they were close.

—-

That evening, Draken confronted Mikey in the Toman hideout. “We’ve got a problem.”

Mikey barely looked up. “What now?”

“Y/N.”

Mikey’s gaze snapped to Draken, a flicker of something passing through his eyes. Was it concern, maybe? But it was gone before Draken could name it. “What about her?”

“She’s being targeted. Someone slipped her a warning.”

Mikey’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“She shouldn’t have come back,” Mikey muttered, more to himself than Draken.

Draken leaned closer, his voice low but firm. “But she did. And now she’s in danger. Are you really gonna let her deal with it on her own?”

Mikey closed his eyes, his mind warring with itself. He didn’t want to care. Caring led to loss, and he’d already lost too much.

He exhaled slowly, his voice cold but determined. “Find out who’s behind it.”

Draken smirked slightly, stepping back. “Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” Mikey shot back, but even he didn’t believe it.

—

Y/N spent the rest of the night staring at the note, her mind racing. Whoever was after her wasn’t bluffing. The memory of the clerk’s blank smile as he handed her the bag made her skin crawl. She considered going to the police, but that was laughable. This wasn’t a world the police could touch, it was Toman’s world, Mikey’s world.

Her pride told her not to go back to him, she had already alerted Draken. But logic whispered that she might not have a choice.

By morning, Y/N found herself walking through the city toward the Toman hideout. Her steps were hesitant, each one feeling heavier than the last. When she reached the building, she hesitated outside the door, steeling herself for the cold reception she knew awaited her.

The sound of laughter and shouting greeted her as she entered. Conversations died down as she stepped into view, and the gang members exchanged wary glances.

Draken was the first to notice her. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow. “Back so soon?”

“I need to talk to Mikey,” Y/N said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Draken’s expression softened just a fraction. “Wait here.”

—

Mikey was in the back room, absentmindedly tinkering with his CB250T. The steady clink of metal against metal was soothing, almost meditative. But when Draken appeared in the doorway, Mikey knew it wouldn’t last.

“She’s here,” Draken said simply.

Mikey didn’t look up. “Tell her to leave.”

Draken didn’t move. “She brought the note. I told you, someone’s after her.”

Mikey’s hand froze mid-movement. He set the wrench down carefully, the sharp clang of metal on metal the only sound in the room. Without a word, he stood and walked past Draken, his expression unreadable.

When Mikey stepped into the main room, Y/N’s eyes locked onto his. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

“You’ve got five minutes,” Mikey said coldly, his voice cutting through the silence.

Y/N squared her shoulders, holding his gaze. “I got this last night.” She pulled the crumpled note from her pocket and handed it to him.

Mikey’s eyes scanned the paper, his expression unchanging, but Y/N could see the way his grip tightened. He folded the note neatly and slipped it into his pocket.

“Who else knows about this?” he asked.

“You and Draken,” Y/N replied. “I came straight here.”

“Good.” Mikey’s voice was clipped, his tone all business. He turned to Draken. “Double security at the usual spots. If anyone sees anything suspicious, I want to know.”

Draken nodded, already pulling out his phone to start making calls.

Mikey turned back to Y/N. “I told you, you shouldn’t have come back.”

Y/N bristled. “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“And you’re making it impossible to talk to you!” Y/N shot back, her frustration boiling over. “I didn’t ask for this, Mikey.”

For a moment, Mikey just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re staying here until we figure this out.”

“What?” Y/N blinked, caught off guard.

“You’re a target now,” Mikey said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If you leave, you’re on your own. And if something happens to you…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. There was something in his voice, something almost vulnerable that made her pause.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “But this doesn’t mean I trust you, I just need your help.”

“Good,” Mikey replied, turning away. “I don’t trust you either.”

—

Later that night, Mikey sat alone in the dimly lit room he used as an office. The crumpled note lay on the table in front of him, the words staring back at him like a taunt.

He hated this. Hated how easily Y/N had gotten under his skin again.

He told himself he didn’t care. Told himself that keeping her here was just practical, that he was protecting her because it was the right thing to do.

Y/N’s return had stirred something in him, something he thought he’d buried long ago. Memories of a time when things were simpler, when Toman wasn’t a burden and he didn’t feel like he was drowning in his own guilt.

But those days were gone, and he couldn’t let himself fall back into that softness.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Draken stepped inside, his expression serious.

“We’ve got a lead,” Draken said.

Mikey stood, shoving his thoughts aside. “Let’s go.”

—

Y/N paced the small room Mikey had assigned to her in the hideout. The walls were bare, the single window overlooking nothing but an alley. She felt like a caged animal, and the fact that Mikey was the one who put her here didn’t help.

A knock on the door made her pause. Draken’s voice called through the wood. “You’ve got company.”

The door opened before she could respond, and Mikey stepped inside, his expression as blank as ever. Draken leaned against the frame, smirking slightly before disappearing down the hall, leaving the two of them alone.

“Can’t wait for you to explain why I’m being held hostage,” Y/N said, crossing her arms.

Mikey ignored her jab, leaning casually against the wall. “This isn’t a game, Y/N. If you leave, they’ll find you.”

“I know that,” she snapped.

“It’s safer this way,” Mikey said simply, his tone devoid of emotion.

“For who?” she shot back. “Me, or your ego?”

Mikey’s eyes darkened, his gaze sharp enough to make her falter. But instead of snapping back, he pushed off the wall and stepped closer. The space between them shrank until Y/N was forced to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

“You think this is about me?” he asked quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I want to deal with any of this?”

Y/N opened her mouth, but no words came out. The intensity in his eyes stole whatever argument she had.

“I’m doing this because I don’t want you to get hurt,” he continued, his voice softening just a fraction. “Not because I care what you think about me.”

That last line stung more than it should have, and Y/N hated how it made her heart ache.

“Fine,” she muttered, looking away. “But don’t expect me to sit here quietly. I hate being locked up like this.”

Mikey stepped back, the coldness returning to his face. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

—

Later that evening, Y/N sat by the window, staring out at the faint glow of the streetlights yet her mind kept drifting to Mikey.

She hated how much he’d changed. The boy who used to laugh with her, who used to share his dreams of a better future, was gone. And in his place was someone colder, someone harder to reach.

But then there were moments.. fleeting, fragile moments, where she saw glimpses of the old Mikey. The way his voice softened when he talked about protecting her. The way his hands clenched when he read that note.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re still awake.”

She turned to see Mikey standing in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said simply, turning back to the window. “What do you want?”

He stepped inside, his footsteps soft. “You’re making people nervous. They think you’re gonna bolt.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “I might, just to spite you.”

Mikey didn’t laugh. Instead, he moved closer, leaning against the wall across from her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy but not uncomfortable.

“You used to like this view,” Mikey said suddenly, his voice quiet.

Y/N glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected comment. “You remember that?”

He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “It’s hard to forget when you don’t shut the hell up about it.”

There was a softness in his tone that caught her off guard. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind her of the boy she used to know.

“What happened to you, Mikey?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He froze, his expression hardening instantly. “Don’t.”

“Mikey—”

“I said don’t,” he snapped, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it.

“You can’t keep running from it forever, Mikey. Whatever you’re holding onto, it’s eating you alive,” Y/N said, her voice steady but soft.

Mikey’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged, standing now, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think I don’t see it? The way you push everyone away, the way you act like carrying all this weight by yourself is some kind of punishment you deserve?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Mikey bit out, his tone icy.

“I know enough,” she shot back. “I know you’re not the same person you used to be. And maybe that’s my fault, maybe it’s Toman’s fault, but Mikey, you don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t feel anything. You’re not invincible, no matter how much you want everyone to believe it.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to respond.

Mikey took a step closer, his eyes boring into hers. For a moment, she thought he was going to lash out, but instead, he said something she didn’t expect.

“And what about you?” he asked quietly, his voice low and cutting. “You think you’re any better? You walked away. Left all of us behind.”

The accusation hit hard, and Y/N felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I left because I couldn’t handle it. But I’m here now, and I’m trying to fix things.”

Mikey flinched, the words striking a nerve. His expression shifted, the cold mask slipping just slightly, revealing the pain underneath.

“Fix things?” he echoed bitterly. “You can’t fix what’s already broken.”

“Maybe not,” Y/N said softly. “But you don’t have to break with it.”

The room fell silent, the tension between them palpable. Mikey turned away, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, he looked tired, the weight of his burdens visible in the slump of his shoulders.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone. She wanted to reach out, to tell him he didn’t have to carry everything alone. But she knew better than to push him too far.

“I know,” she said gently. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Mikey. You’ve still got people who care about you, whether you believe it or not.”

He glanced at her then, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite name. Anger, pain, maybe even a flicker of hope. But just as quickly, the walls went back up.

“Get some sleep,” he said abruptly, walking toward the door.

“Mikey—”

“Just… stay out of trouble,” he muttered before slipping out of the room, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

—

Mikey didn’t go far. He leaned against the wall just outside Y/N’s room, staring at the floor as her words replayed in his head.

“You don’t have to break with it.”

He wanted to scoff, to dismiss her as naive, but the truth was, she wasn’t wrong. He’d been breaking for years, piece by piece, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Letting her back in was dangerous. It stirred up memories he’d tried to bury. Good ones.

But it also reminded him of what he’d lost.

Mikey closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He told himself he didn’t care about Y/N, that her safety was just another problem to solve. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple.

He’d pushed her away to protect her, to keep her from getting hurt. But now that she was back, he couldn’t shake the fear that she’d become another name on the list of people he’d failed to save.

“You’ve still got people who care about you.”

Mikey straightened, pushing the thoughts aside. There was no room for weakness, no room for feelings. He couldn’t afford it.

As he walked away, he couldn’t help but glance back at the door. But he didn’t turn around.

—

The next morning, Y/N emerged from her room to find Mikey sitting in the common area, leaning back in a chair with his arms crossed. He looked as unbothered as ever, but there was an edge to his expression that set her on edge.

“Sleep well?” he asked without looking at her, his voice dripping with indifference.

Y/N rolled her eyes, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Don’t pretend like you care.”

“I don’t,” Mikey replied flatly. “But you’re still my responsibility until this is over.”

That word responsibility stung. It made her feel like a burden, like she was just another problem for him to deal with.

Y/N spun around to face him, her temper flaring. “I’m not some helpless little girl you have to babysit, Mikey.”

He finally looked up at her, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re the one who came running to Toman for help.”

“That’s because I don’t have an army of delinquents at my beck and call!” she shot back, her voice rising. “And maybe I wouldn’t have to if you and your gang weren’t the reason I’m being targeted in the first place!”

The room went deadly silent.

Mikey stood, his movements slow and deliberate. Despite his smaller stature, the intensity in his eyes made him seem large. He stepped closer, his voice quiet but laced with steel. “You think this is my fault?”

Y/N refused to back down, even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Yes, Mikey. Your world dragged me into this. Your decisions. Your mess.”

Mikey’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t know anything about my decisions. You don’t know what I’ve had to do to keep everyone alive.”

“And whose fault is that?” she countered, her voice shaking with emotion. “You shut everyone out, Mikey. You act like you’re the only one who’s ever lost anything, the only one who’s ever had to make sacrifices. But newsflash: you’re not!”

His eyes flared with something dangerous. For a moment, she thought he was going to lash out. Instead, he took a step back, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck off,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he snapped, his voice rising for the first time. “I don’t need this right now. Go back to your room and stay there.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move. “No. You don’t get to tell me to fuck off just because you can’t handle the truth.”

Mikey’s eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she saw the storm raging inside him. Anger, pain, guilt, it was all there, barely contained.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said, his voice shaking with barely suppressed emotion. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, her own emotions threatening to spill over. “And AGAIN, whose fault is that, Mikey? Who keeps pushing everyone away? Who makes it impossible for anyone to stay?”

His breath hitched, the words cutting deeper than she realized. For a split second, the mask slipped, and she saw the boy he used to be, the one who laughed with her, who dreamed of a better future.

But then the walls went back up as they always did. 

“Fine,” Mikey said coldly. “You want to blame me for everything? Go ahead I don’t care.”

Y/N’s voice softened, a crack in her defiance. “You do care, Mikey. That’s the problem. You care so much it’s killing you.”

He froze, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. But instead of responding, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with tears threatening to spill.

—

Mikey didn’t stop walking until he was outside, the cold air making him flinch. He leaned against his bike, his hands trembling as he tried to steady his breathing.

Her words replayed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

For years, he’d told himself that shutting people out was the only way to protect them. But he wasn’t protecting anyone. He was just running away.

—

The following days were an uneasy truce at best. Mikey avoided Y/N whenever possible, retreating into his responsibilities as Toman’s leader. She, in turn, kept her distance, spending her time pacing the hideout or glaring out the window, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

But the tension between them was impossible to ignore. Every glance, every exchange, was charged, as though they were waiting for the next explosion.

—

Y/N was in the middle of the main room, sparring with Mitsuya. Draken had suggested it as a way to keep her busy, but Mikey wasn’t thrilled about it. He watched from the corner, arms crossed, his jaw clenched as Y/N blocked a punch and landed one of her own.

Mitsuya stumbled back, clutching his side. “Damn, Y/N,” he muttered with a sheepish grin. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”

Y/N smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. “You said you wanted me to try.”

The room erupted into laughter, and for a moment, the mood was light. But Mikey’s eyes stayed locked on Y/N, a storm brewing behind them.

When the sparring match ended, Mikey pushed off the wall and walked toward her.

“You’re done,” he said curtly.

Y/N turned to him, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re done,” Mikey repeated, his voice cold. “This isn’t a playground. You’re not here to prove anything.”

She bristled at his tone, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t proving anything. I was trying to be useful.”

“You want to be useful?” Mikey snapped. “Stay out of the way.”

The room went silent, everyone watching the confrontation unfold.

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she refused to back down. “You really are unbelievable, you know that? All I’ve done is try to help!”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “Help? By making yourself an even bigger target? By getting involved in things you don’t understand?”

“I understand more than you think, Mikey,” she shot back, her voice rising. “I understand that you’re so used to being in control that you can’t handle the idea of someone else stepping in. God forbid anyone actually cares enough to try!”

“Care?” Mikey scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t care about me. You just feel guilty because you walked away.”

The words hit like a slap, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, the pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

“And what about you?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. “You act like I abandoned you, but you never gave me a reason to stay. You pushed me away, Mikey. You made it impossible.”

Mikey froze, the accusation striking a nerve he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Y/N stepped closer, her voice dropping. “You think I wanted to leave? You think it didn’t kill me to walk away? I didn’t have a choice, Mikey. You made sure of that.”

The room was suffocatingly silent, the tension so thick it was hard to breathe.

Mikey’s fists clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged. “Or are you just too scared to admit that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one who’s been running this whole time?”

—

Mikey turned and stormed out, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Y/N watched him go, her chest heaving with the weight of their argument.

Draken approached her cautiously, his expression unreadable. “You sure know how to piss him off.”

“He’s the one who keeps pushing me,” she muttered, puffing her cheeks and crossing her arms. But even as she said it, the guilt gnawed at her.

Draken sighed, glancing toward the door Mikey had disappeared through. “He’s not as cold as he wants you to think, you know. He’s just… complicated.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Y/N muttered.

Draken gave her a pointed look. “He’s been through more than most people could survive. You should keep that in mind before you rip into him.”

Y/N frowned, guilt settling deeper in her chest. “I didn’t mean to..-”

“I know,” Draken said, cutting her off. “But he’s not the only one who needs to figure things out. You’ve got your own shit to deal with.”

—

Mikey paced outside, the cold air doing little to calm the storm raging inside him.

He hated that she could see right through him, even when he tried so hard to keep everyone at arm’s length.

“Why does she care so much?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

Because she always had. That was the truth he didn’t want to face. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much he pushed her away, Y/N had always been the one person who refused to give up on him.

And that terrified him more than anything.

—

The night was silent, the hideout bathed in shadows as Mikey sat alone in the dimly lit back room. His motorcycle keys dangled from his fingers, the faint jingling the only sound breaking the stillness.

He’d come here to escape, to get away from the noise, the people, and most of all, from her. 

Mikey clenched his teeth, tossing the keys onto the table. They clattered against the surface, the sound sharp.

She was wrong. She had to be.

Was he running?

No, he wasn’t running. He was surviving.

But then why did it feel like he was suffocating?

Mikey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands trembled slightly, but he clenched them into fists, forcing the weakness away. He couldn’t afford to feel. Not now. Not ever.

Feelings made you vulnerable. Feelings got people killed.

And yet, no matter how hard he tried to bury them, they always found a way to surface. Memories of Emma’s smile, of Baji’s laugh, of the warmth of the family they used to be.

Of Y/N’s voice, challenging him, grounding him, refusing to let him disappear.

Mikey exhaled shakily, pressing his palms against his eyes. He hated himself for the part of him that still cared, the part that still wanted to believe there was a way out of this.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

There wasn’t.

Not for him.

—

Y/N couldn’t sleep. The argument with Mikey had left her restless, her mind spinning with everything they’d said.

She wandered the halls of the hideout, her footsteps soft against the floor. It wasn’t until she passed the back room that she heard it, the faint clatter of something hitting the table.

Curiosity, or maybe concern, got the better of her. She pushed the door open slightly, peering inside.

Mikey sat in the corner, his head bowed, his hands clenched into fists. He looked smaller somehow, the weight of his burdens pressing down on him.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him again, especially not like this. But something about the way he sat there, so utterly alone, pulled at her.

“Mikey?” she called softly, stepping into the room.

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he glared at her. “What do you want?”

Y/N flinched at the coldness in his tone but didn’t back down. “I couldn’t sleep. I heard something and thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to.”

“I don’t,” he said sharply, his voice like ice. “Go back to your room.”

She ignored him, crossing her arms as she stepped closer. “Too bad. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

Mikey stood abruptly, the sudden movement startling her. His eyes were dark, void of the warmth they once held.

“What’s going on?” he repeated bitterly, his voice low and dangerous. “You want to know what’s going on, Y/N? Fine. I’m trying to figure out how to keep you alive, I’m trying to keep this gang together while everyone I’ve ever cared about is either dead or gone. And I’m trying not to lose my goddamn mind in the process.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen Mikey angry before, but this was different. This was raw.

“Mikey…” she began, her voice soft.

“Don’t,” he snapped, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, his anger palpable. “Don’t stand there and act like you understand. You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve lost.”

“Then tell me,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let me in, Mikey. Let me help you.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “Help? You can’t help me. No one can. This is who I am, Y/N.”

“That’s not true,” she said firmly, stepping closer despite the fear twisting in her chest. “You’re still in there, Mikey. I see it. I see you.”

“You don’t see anything,” he growled, his voice breaking. “You’re just too stubborn to let go. But you should. You should walk away, Y/N. Before it’s too late.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to look away. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Mikey’s breath hitched, his composure cracking. For a moment, he looked at her like he was drowning, like he was desperate for someone to pull him out of the darkness.

But then the mask fell back into place, and he stepped back, his expression cold once more.

“Go to bed, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice void of emotion.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn’t just pushing her away, he was trying to protect her.

Without another word, Y/N turned and left, her heart heavy with the weight of what she’d seen.

As the door closed behind her, Mikey sank back into the chair, his head in his hands.

For the first time in years, he let the tears fall.

He hated her for caring. Hated her for not giving up on him.

But most of all, he hated himself for needing her.

Y/N paused in the doorway, her hand still on the handle, her mind racing. Mikey’s words stung, but more than that, the emptiness in his eyes… it wasn’t something she could walk away from. The door was still cracked, and she could hear his uneven breathing. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, but she couldn’t leave him like this.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she turned around and walked back into the room, her footsteps quiet but determined. Mikey didn’t hear her approach until she stopped right in front of him. He looked up sharply, his face a mask of indifference, but there was something raw behind his eyes. It was a fragility he hadn’t allowed anyone to see in a long time.

“Y/N,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, as if just speaking the words took effort. “I told you to leave.”

But Y/N wasn’t going anywhere. She crouched in front of him, her gaze softening, and reached out to place a hand on his. For a moment, Mikey tensed, his body stiffening as though he expected her to pull away at the slightest sign of weakness. But she didn’t.

“Mikey…” she whispered, her voice soft. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself.”

Mikey’s jaw clenched, and his breath hitched. He wanted to pull away, to shut her out like he always did, but something inside him, something that he’d buried deep for so long, urged him to listen.

“You think I’m weak, don’t you?” he muttered bitterly, the words almost like a confession. “That’s what this is about. You think I can’t handle it.. handle this… this thing inside me.”

Y/N shook her head, her thumb gently brushing over his hand as she leaned in closer. “No, Mikey. I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re trying to be strong in a way that’s breaking you.”

He exhaled sharply, as though the weight of her words hit him all at once. Mikey pulled his hand away from hers, running it through his messy hair in frustration. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. To watch the people you love die because you couldn’t protect them.”

Her voice was steady when she responded, her eyes unwavering as she watched him struggle. “You’re not the only one who lost Baji and Emma, Mikey. We all did...”

Mikey’s expression darkened, a flicker of the familiar coldness returning to his features. “You don’t get it,” he spat, the venom in his words laced with pain. “You think you can fix me? You think you can just waltz in and tell me it’ll be okay? It won’t be.”

Y/N’s heart ached as the walls Mikey had built around himself started to crack. But instead of backing away, she closed the distance between them, her voice a whisper now, fragile and unyielding.

“I’m not trying to fix you, Mikey,” she said softly. “I’m just trying to be here. Because I care. Because you don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

For the first time since she’d entered the room, Mikey’s defenses seemed to falter. His lips parted, but no words came out, his throat constricting as though the weight of everything was finally too much to bear.

Y/N watched him, her heart breaking as she saw the layers of exhaustion, anger, and sorrow etched into his face. Mikey wasn’t just fighting the world around him; he was fighting himself. And it was killing him.

He stood abruptly, his hands shaking as he paced the room. “You don’t understand. If I stop… if I let anyone in, it’ll all come crashing down. Toman, everything I’ve built.. it’ll all fall apart.”

Y/N stood slowly, her eyes fixed on him as she took a step forward. “You think it’s all on you? You think you have to carry the weight of Toman and everyone’s lives on your own? Mikey, that’s not the way it works. That’s not the way we work.”

He froze, the words hanging in the air. His chest heaved with each breath, his shoulders tense as though every muscle in his body was fighting against her.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispered, his voice almost cracking. “Everything and everyone. I can’t do it again. I can’t…”

Y/N closed the remaining distance between them, her hand gently reaching out to touch his arm. “Then let me be here, Mikey. Let me help you carry it… even if it’s just for a little while. You don’t have to be alone.”

The air between them thickened, and for a moment, Mikey felt like he was drowning. The years of pain, the guilt, the loneliness, everything collided in that single moment. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to shut down, to push her away as he’d done with everyone else.

But the warmth of her touch, the steadiness in her eyes; it reached him in a way he couldn’t explain. He felt a pull, a desperate need to reach out, even if it scared him.

And then, finally, Mikey spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” he admitted, his eyes clouded with vulnerability.

Y/N’s heart softened, and she reached up, cupping his face with both hands. “You don’t have to know. We can figure it out together.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers, looking for any sign that this wasn’t a mistake. That maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

And in that moment, for the first time in what felt like forever, Mikey let himself believe it.

The silence in the room was heavy, but this time it wasn’t oppressive. It wasn’t suffocating. It was fragile, the kind that came before something important.

Mikey stood still, his breath ragged and uneven as Y/N’s words echoed in his mind. “We can figure it out together.”

Those words had broken through the walls he’d spent years constructing, the cold, unfeeling fortress that had kept everyone at arm’s length. In that moment, with her standing before him, her eyes filled with a quiet compassion he’d never allowed himself to fully accept, something inside him shifted.

He was always used to being the one who held it all together. The one who pushed forward, even when the weight of the world threatened to crush him. But the truth was, he was tired. He was so goddamn tired of pretending he could do it alone.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to anymore.

Y/N didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She just stepped closer to him, her gaze unwavering, and without thinking, Mikey found himself pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her as if the simple act could somehow erase the burden that had been dragging him down for so long.

At first, Y/N tensed, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. But then she relaxed into his embrace, resting her cheek against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her ear. It wasn’t just the physical contact, it was the unspoken understanding between them that nothing had to be said.

Mikey’s hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as if grounding himself in her. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint, but there was something vulnerable beneath the surface.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The silence between them wasn’t empty, it was filled with everything they hadn’t been able to say before, the things that had been left unsaid for too long.

But slowly, Mikey’s grip on her tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost too soft to hear.

“I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N,” he whispered, his words barely more than a breath. “I’ve never known how.”

Y/N’s hand found its way to his back, her fingers tracing gentle circles against the fabric of his jacket. She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his, searching for something in the depths of his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere, Mikey.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and before he could stop himself, his lips were on hers. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, not at first, it was slow, tentative, a silent plea for connection. It was a kiss of surrender, of finally giving in to the vulnerability they’d both been avoiding for so long.

Y/N kissed him back gently, feeling the weight of his emotions, the depth of his struggles, all of it pouring into the simple act. Mikey’s lips were trembling, as if this moment was too fragile to hold onto, but she kissed him harder, trying to remind him that this they were real.

When they pulled apart, Mikey’s forehead rested against hers, and he exhaled shakily. “I don’t deserve this,” he muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Y/N smiled softly, her hands still resting on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart steadying. “No one deserves to carry everything alone, Mikey. Not you. Not anyone.” She lifted her chin, looking up at him with unwavering trust in her eyes. “Whatever comes next… we’ll face it together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

He wasn’t sure how it would all work out. He wasn’t sure if they were ready for what came next. He looked down at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Together, huh?” he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Together,” she affirmed, her hands resting over his heart.

—

The days after Mikey and Y/N’s moment of vulnerability were different—quieter, but also more strained. They had both crossed a line, a boundary neither of them thought they’d ever approach. But with the faintest spark of hope, Mikey seemed… changed. He didn’t push her away as much, but there was a darkness that still lingered in his eyes, one that reminded her that the past hadn’t been fully laid to rest.

Mikey didn’t talk about it. He never did. But his moods shifted unpredictably, and Y/N found herself walking on eggshells, wondering when the next storm would hit. It was hard for her not to feel the weight of the silence between them, but she’d made her choice. She wasn’t going anywhere.

—

The first sign of trouble came in the form of a sudden, urgent meeting. Mikey didn’t say much as he gathered his inner circle, his eyes scanning the room coldly, but there was something in his demeanor that suggested this wasn’t just another Toman routine.

“Listen up,” Mikey said, his voice low and sharp. “We’ve got a problem. There’s a new group moving in on our turf. They’ve been making waves, trying to claim territory—spreading rumors about Toman’s decline.” His eyes flicked to Chifuyu, who was sitting nearby, his expression tight with concern.

“Who are they?” Chifuyu asked, already knowing this wasn’t something that would resolve itself without a fight.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mikey snapped, his usual nonchalance replaced by something colder. His eyes snapped to Y/N, which was a sure tell these were the people after her. All eyes were on Y/N now.

“They’re fucking with the wrong people. We deal with this, and we do it fast. No hesitation.”

Y/N, standing at the back of the room, exchanged a glance with Takemichi. She could see the tension in his posture, and his nervousness mirrored her own. Takemichi had been through too much to remain unaffected by this, even though he tried to mask it. But she could feel Mikey’s coldness, a sharp edge that was more familiar to her than she wanted to admit.

“We can’t just rush into this, Mikey,” Takemichi spoke up, the words coming out more forcefully than he probably intended. “We need a plan. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “The only plan is to take them down. If you’re scared, Takemichi, I can handle this without you.”

The words stung, a reminder of the difference between them. Mikey was always in control. Always. He never needed anyone, and he certainly never needed anyone to question him.

Y/N stepped forward before Takemichi could respond. “Mikey, this isn’t just about us anymore. If this group is challenging us, we need to be smart about it.”

Mikey’s gaze flicked to her, the icy edge returning. “And what the fuck do you think you know about it?” His voice was colder than ever. “Stay out of it, Y/N. It might be your fault but this isn’t your fight.”

The words hit her like a slap in the face. She was used to Mikey’s coldness, but there was something cruel in his tone this time, something sharper, as if he was intentionally pushing her away.

“You can’t keep me out of it,” she shot back, meeting his gaze. “I’m in this as much as you are.”

Mikey clenched his fists, his jaw twitching with restrained anger. “You think I care about what you think? Keep pushing, and you’ll regret it.”

There was a brief silence before Chifuyu broke it with a sigh. “Mikey, this isn’t the time for that.” He shot Mikey a look that, even if subtle, held a weight of years of friendship. “We’ll deal with it, but we need to think this through. We can’t go in blind.”

Mikey finally exhaled, his shoulders dropping slightly in what seemed like a reluctant concession. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone still icy. “We’ll make a plan. But we’re moving fast. No room for mistakes.”

—

The next few days were a blur of preparation. They gathered intel, planned their moves, and prepared for an inevitable confrontation. Toman’s name was on the line, and Mikey wasn’t about to let anyone tarnish the legacy they’d fought so hard to build, certainly not for Y/N.

—

It was late one night when the inevitable happened. A member of the rival gang ambushed one of Toman’s scouts. Mikey was livid.

“You’re all fucking dead,” he snarled to his closest circle. “Get ready. We’ll show them what happens when you mess with Toman.”

The group suited up, preparing for battle. Y/N could feel the tension in the air, the weight of the approaching fight settling over her like a shroud. She was used to danger, but something about this felt different. Mikey was different.

And she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was about to happen would change everything between them.

—

The night air was thick with tension as Toman’s forces clashed with the rival gang. It was chaotic. Fists, metal, and shouting filled the streets as the two sides collided in a brutal act of violence. Mikey was at the center of it all, his movements precise and deadly, a testament to the years of bloodshed and loss he’d endured. But there was something almost frenzied in his attacks, as if the anger he’d been holding back had finally spilled over, and now there was nothing left to control it.

Y/N wasn’t far behind, her instincts kicking in as she fought beside Takemichi and Chifuyu, each of them trying to keep pace with the ruthless violence around them. She could feel Mikey’s presence in the midst of it all. Cold, lethal, and completely in control. But this time, it wasn’t the same. There was something darker in the way he fought, something that made her stomach churn.

When she found him amidst the chaos, his face was painted with rage. His movements were brutal, calculated, and unyielding. He was a force of nature. And yet, Y/N could see the strain behind his eyes, something she hadn’t seen before. Mikey was always the one to hold everything together, but in this moment, she saw the cracks.

She moved toward him, her voice barely audible over the sounds of his deadly punches and kicks. “Mikey stop!”

He didn’t hear her. Or if he did, he didn’t care. His rage had consumed him completely.

“Mikey!” she shouted again, her voice sharp and urgent.

This time, he turned to face her, his eyes wild and filled with something dangerous. “Stay out of it!” he yelled, his voice strained. “You left this to me. This isn’t your fight anymore.”

But she didn’t back down. “It’s always been my fight, Mikey. I’m not leaving you to do this alone.”

For a moment, it seemed like his resolve cracked. But then, just as quickly, the darkness in his eyes hardened, and he shoved her back, his face twisting in anger.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he snarled, his voice laced with venom.

Y/N blinked, hurt flashing in her chest, but she refused to let it show. She clenched her fists and stood tall. “I’m not afraid of you, Mikey.”

For a heartbeat, the chaos around them stopped. The air seemed to crackle with the tension between them. But it was fleeting. Mikey turned back, ignoring her once more, his attention focused solely on the destruction around him.

The night was tense, the air thick with the violence and the smell of blood. Toman’s usual recklessness had been tempered by Mikey’s controlled rage, his mind locked into the rhythm of the fight. This wasn’t just about territory or power anymore, it was personal. It was about Y/N and he knew it. 

Y/N had been right there by Mikey’s side. It wasn’t that she felt invincible; it was that she’d learned long ago not to flinch when blood was spilled. But she was in the middle of the chaos, her focus split between keeping her own footing and watching Mikey’s back.

The fight got out of control fast.

In the confusion, a man from the rival gang found his opportunity. He lunged at Y/N from behind, delivering a brutal punch to her ribs that sent her crashing to the ground, pain shooting through her side like a knife. She gasped, scrambling to push herself up, but the pressure in her chest was unbearable. Her vision swam, and the air in her lungs felt trapped.

Mikey was caught up in the fight, unaware of her. She opened her mouth to call his name, but no sound came out as her body gave way, collapsing to the ground.

Her head hit the pavement with a thud, pain spreading through her like fire.

“Mikey…” she whispered, her voice weak. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her. The pain was unbearable. Her ribs were broken, each breath more painful than the last. 

Just then, a shadow fell over her. She blinked, the figure above her coming into focus. It was Draken. His face hard with determination.

“Shit, Y/N!” Draken’s voice was low, but there was no mistaking the urgency in it.

Y/N tried to speak, but her chest was too tight. She barely managed to shake her head. “Mikey… I need him…”

Draken glanced over at the chaos unfolding and saw Mikey still absorbed in the battle, completely unaware of what had just happened to her. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re not waiting on him,” Draken said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He wasn’t here for sentiment; he was here to make sure she wasn’t going to get herself killed. “Come on, we’re getting you out of here.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with that. The pain in her side was searing, and Draken’s grip was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. She let him guide her away from the immediate danger, her head still spinning, but as they moved further from the chaos, her thoughts swirled back to Mikey.

Draken helped her find a place to sit against a wall, his movements quick and efficient, but he didn’t linger. He was simply doing his job, ensuring she was okay while Mikey was still caught up in the fight.

“Just rest here. Try not to fall asleep, you understand me?” The urgency apparent in Draken’s voice.

Y/N’s heart still raced as she tried to steady her breathing. She hated the weakness she felt. How far from the action she had been forced to retreat. How much Mikey probably didn’t even care.

Mikey had been too focused on the fight to notice the shift in the air. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of Draken helping Y/N to safety that a knot of panic twisted in his gut.

It was an odd feeling, one he’d never quite allowed himself to dwell on before. He could hear his own pulse in his ears as he watched her, her face pale, her body fragile in Draken’s hold.

He pushed through the remaining chaos, slicing through the mess of bodies, his focus solely on her. When he reached them, he found Draken helping Y/N to sit against the wall, her expression dazed. Draken stepped back immediately, glancing at Mikey, but saying nothing. He’d done his part.

“What the hell happened?” Mikey demanded, his voice low, sharp.

“She got hit hard,” Draken replied quickly. “Her ribs….”

Mikey’s fists clenched, and without another word, he turned toward Y/N, his gaze cold. His eyes flicked over her injuries, and he noticed how pale she was, the blood seeping through her clothes.

“Mikey…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just…”

“Stay the fuck down,” Mikey snapped, his tone harsh, but his eyes betrayed something else. He was furious at the situation, at her.

Y/N, still struggling to keep her composure, finally spoke again, her voice hoarse. “I’m sorry… I just wanted to help. I didn’t want to be a liability…”

Mikey stood over her, fighting to keep his own emotions in check. Liability? He was the one who had let her come here, and yet, she was here, injured. The anger surged within him, and he forced himself to look away.

“Get her patched up,” Mikey growled at Draken, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m not here to babysit.”

Without waiting for a response, Mikey turned and walked off, disappearing back into the fight. But his mind wasn’t on the battle. It was on her—on the way he had failed to protect her, on the way her voice had sounded so small and broken.

—

The fight had escalated beyond anything the members of Toman had expected. The rival gang was more organized, more ruthless, and seemed hell-bent on pushing Toman to their breaking point. Mikey, ever the calm center amidst the storm, was no longer just a symbol of power; he was a brutal force on the battlefield. His fists moved like lightning, dispatching enemies with cold precision, his thoughts a blur of strategy as he led Toman forward.

Chifuyu’s eyes never left Mikey. They had fought together countless times, but tonight felt different. Something was off. The rival gang was adapting to their tactics, and it was clear they weren’t just after a win, they wanted to break Toman. Chifuyu had seen it before, and he knew that desperation could be as dangerous as any weapon.

“Watch your back!” Chifuyu yelled to Takemichi, pulling him out of the way as a rival gang member lunged with a knife. Takemichi’s eyes were wide, his usual uncertainty a liability in the chaos, but Chifuyu’s quick reaction saved him from a nasty cut.

“Thanks, Chifuyu,” Takemichi gasped, eyes wide with fear. His hands trembled but he didn’t have time to process it. He wasn’t about to let Toman fall apart, not while they still had a chance.

“No time for thanks, idiot!” Chifuyu shot back with a smirk, although his face was hard with focus. “Stay sharp.”

Hakkai and Nahoya were causing havoc on the frontlines, the two of them working in perfect sync, though their styles were worlds apart. Nahoya’s punches were wild, unpredictable, each one more vicious than the last, while Hakkai was fluid, precise, dismantling the opposition with a quiet ferocity that was nearly as dangerous as Nahoya’s chaos.

“You’ve got a problem, man!” Nahoya yelled, cracking one of the rival gang members with a sharp right hook. “You think you can take us down so easily?”

“You’re not doing this alone, dumbass,” Hakkai shot back, his voice steady even as he knocked another opponent off balance. “Focus.”

The ground beneath them shook with the force of fists meeting flesh, the noise of the clash deafening. Souya had found his rhythm, taking down one rival after another with cold detachment. His style was brutal, no frills—just raw, unrelenting power. He wasn’t there for show; he was there to win.

“Fuckers don’t know who they’re messing with,” Souya muttered under his breath, taking out an opponent with a clean jab to the throat.

Meanwhile, Draken,  was pushing forward, his eyes scanning for the weak spots in the rival gang’s formation. His broad frame cut through the chaos like a battering ram, every blow landing with the kind of intensity that shook the ground.

“Fall back, Mikey’s giving the signal!” Draken barked at a group of younger Toman members, pulling them out of harm’s way as Mikey advanced. The sound of Draken’s voice was like a rope, pulling them back from the edge of the madness.

Mitsuya moved with the grace of a dancer, but there was nothing graceful about the violence of his strikes. His focus was unshakable, his movements perfect. His eyes scanned the lot, quickly analyzing the shifting tactics of the rival gang and adjusting accordingly.

“Don’t let them get too close!” Mitsuya called out, pushing back a group of attackers with ease, his face a mask of determination. “They’re getting desperate, and that’s when they’ll make mistakes.”

Takemichi, still shaken but now pushing through his fear, turned to face the battle with resolve. The chaos around him was overwhelming, but there was no turning back. He’d promised to help Mikey and the others, and he wasn’t about to falter now. He clenched his fists and rushed toward the thick of the fight.

“Chifuyu! I’m with you!” Takemichi shouted, his voice trembling but clear.

Chifuyu glanced over at Takemichi, the briefest flicker of a smile crossing his face. “Good. We’ll clear the path for Mikey.”

As the fight dragged on, the tension grew palpable. Mikey’s frustration was apparent. The rival gang was relentless, but he could see the cracks in their formation. They were fighting for more than just territory, they were fighting with a hatred that felt personal.

And Mikey wasn’t about to let that kind of hatred win.

“Push forward!” Mikey yelled, his voice cutting through the noise. “Take them down!”

His words were like a rallying cry, a signal to every Toman member to dig deeper, to fight harder. The group of Toman fighters, tired and bloodied, surged forward as one, a united force breaking through the rival gang’s defense line.

Draken’s voice echoed across the battlefield, low and commanding, “Keep the pressure on! We’re not letting up.”

But as Mikey moved into the thick of the fight, his eyes flicked to the side, and for just a brief moment, his attention faltered. In that split second, an opponent lunged at him, but Draken’s fist connected with the rival gang member’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.

Mikey’s gaze locked onto Draken’s for a brief second, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. No words were needed. Draken had done his part. And Mikey knew he couldn’t afford to lose focus. He’d take it from here.

Mitsuya, Hakkai, and the others were right behind him, and together, they stormed through the remaining rival gang members. There was no stopping them now.

The rival gang had underestimated Toman. And now, they would learn just how dangerous it was to cross them.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood. The battle had raged on for what felt like hours, but now it was coming to a head. The rival gang was falling apart, their forces thinning as Toman pushed forward with relentless force. Mikey’s focus had never been sharper. His eyes, usually playful and light, were now a cold steel—deadly and unwavering. This was it. The moment where Toman either stood victorious or faltered.

“Keep going!” Mikey shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos. “We finish this now!”

Toman surged forward, responding to Mikey’s command with undeniable loyalty. The enemy had been worn down, but there was one final obstacle standing in their way. The leader of the rival gang, a tall, imposing figure with a dangerous air about him. His eyes locked onto Mikey, his lips curling into a sneer as he stood amidst the wreckage of his defeated men.

“Manjiro Sano,” the rival gang leader growled, his voice low and venomous. “You really think you can take everything from me? You’re nothing but a cocky little brat playing king in a ruined kingdom.”

Mikey’s expression remained unreadable, the flames of battle still flickering in his gaze.

The rival gang leader Kuroda. He stepped forward, drawing a blade from his side. “Let’s see how long you last, you little shit.”

Before Mikey could respond, a gunshot rang out, followed by a sharp scream. Y/N’s voice cut through the chaos.

Mikey’s heart jolted, but he didn’t flinch. The fight wasn’t over, and he couldn’t lose focus. Across from him, Kuroda’s gaze shifted toward the sound, a sinister smirk spreading across his face.

“There she is,” Kuroda said coldly. “Mine all mine.”

Y/N was cornered, struggling to hold her ground, but Kuroda’s attention was locked on her. 

Mikey’s jaw clenched. He didn’t have time to hesitate. This needed to end, and it needed to end now.

“You’re not touching her,” Mikey growled, stepping forward. His voice, so sharp and controlled, sent a ripple through the remaining fighters on both sides. “You want to fight me? Fine. But Y/N stays out of this.”

Kuroda scoffed, a wicked laugh escaping him. “You think I care about your rules, little king? You’ve already lost, Sano. She’s mine.”

Mikey’s lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes hardening. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

In an instant, Mikey closed the distance between them. He moved with the kind of speed that was almost inhuman, his foot snapping out in a deadly arc as he landed a crushing, bone shattering kick straight into Kuroda’s chest. The impact was like a thunderclap, the force sending the rival gang leader flying backward, his body crashing into a nearby wall. 

The battlefield seemed to freeze for a moment, the noise of the fight dying down as everyone turned to witness the devastating blow.

Mikey stood tall, his foot still raised from the powerful kick, his breath steady but his eyes burning with fury. He wasn’t done yet.

“Get up,” Mikey spat, his voice laced with venom. “I’m not finished with you.”

Kuroda groaned from the ground, blood dripping from his mouth as he struggled to push himself up. His eyes burned with rage, but there was fear now, too. Mikey had shattered his confidence with one strike. The man had underestimated the leader of Toman, and now he was paying the price.

Mikey closed the distance once more, his steps deliberate, his body moving with deadly intent. “You’re weak. You’ll regret ever coming after her.”

Kuroda, desperate, lunged forward, trying to swing the knife he had drawn earlier. But Mikey was already a step ahead. With a smooth, fluid motion, Mikey sidestepped the attack, grabbing Kuroda’s wrist with an iron grip. His other hand came up in a flash, delivering a brutal punch to Kuroda’s temple.

The rival gang leader crumpled to the ground, his knife clattering away uselessly. Mikey stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion but his face cold as ice.

“You’re finished,” Mikey said, his voice low, dangerous. “Get the fuck out of here, I don’t wanna see your face ever again.”

Kuroda didn’t respond. His eyes were unfocused, his body broken, and he couldn’t even lift his head. Mikey’s deadly kick had left him no choice but to surrender. With a final glance at Y/N, who stood frozen at the edge of the fight, Mikey turned his back on the defeated leader and faced his crew.

“Toman’s the strongest,” Mikey declared, his voice ringing with finality. “Toman wins.”

The rival gang members, seeing their leader defeated, began to retreat, realizing there was no point in continuing the fight. One by one, they scattered, their morale shattered by Mikey’s brutal display of power.

The Toman crew stood victorious, battered but unbroken. Chifuyu, Hakkai, Nahoya, and the others, though bloodied and exhausted, couldn’t help but share a look of relief. It was over. Toman had won.

Draken, wiping blood from his lip, walked over to Mikey. “Nice work, boss,” he said, a hint of respect in his voice. “You did it again.”

Mikey didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Y/N, who was slowly limping, making her way over to him. Her gaze met his, and for a brief moment, all the noise, all the chaos of the fight faded away. It was just the two of them, standing in the aftermath.

“You alright?” Mikey asked, his voice softer now, a flicker of something more tender underneath the hardened exterior.

Y/N nodded, her body aching from the fight, but her eyes were clear. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

Mikey didn’t smile, but there was a shift in his posture, something less rigid about him. He glanced down at his hands, still tense from the battle, and then back at Y/N. Despite everything, despite the war and the bloodshed, there was something in him that had softened in her presence.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mikey muttered, almost to himself, though the words were meant for her. “Not while I’m still breathing.”

Y/N gave him a small, tired smile. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

—

The battlefield was eerily silent now. The last of the rival gang had fled, and Toman stood victorious, but the cost was apparent in the bruises and bloodied faces of its members. Mikey surveyed the aftermath, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, still holding onto the adrenaline of the fight. His crew was gathering, checking on each other, and making sure no one was left behind.

His gaze shifted to Y/N, leaning on a wall off to the side, looking smaller than usual in the aftermath of the chaos. She was wiping the blood from her own skin, eyes glazed with exhaustion, but there was something about her, something in the way she looked at him. Mikey knew it wasn’t just relief or gratitude. It was something deeper. And it made his chest tighten.

“Hey… Can you stand?” Mikey’s voice broke the silence, though it wasn’t the usual teasing tone he would use. There was a softness in his words, the kind of softness he didn’t often show anyone. Not even his closest friends.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up to meet his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt heavier now, laden with all the unspoken words and emotions that had been building up for days.

“Yeah,” she said softly, though there was a distant quality to her voice. “It hurts though.”

Mikey nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he stepped closer, the space between them narrowing. “You should rest. You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

She chuckled quietly, though it held no humor. “I think we all have.” Her eyes dropped to the ground for a moment before returning to Mikey. “You… you were amazing out there. You’ve always been. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”

Mikey felt a strange knot tighten in his chest. He could tell she wasn’t just talking about the fight, she was talking about him. The way he had handled everything. The way he led. He hated that he wasn’t sure how to respond to her praise.

“I do what I have to do,” he replied, his tone deliberately indifferent. Mikey wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. He hated how the compliment made him feel exposed. He was supposed to be strong. Untouchable. A leader who never let anything slip through his guard. But with her… it was different.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked, her voice soft, her eyes searching his face. “You’ve been pushing yourself so hard lately. You’ve been so cold… I know something’s been bothering you. It’s not just the fight, Mikey.”

Mikey’s heart skipped at the mention of his coldness. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to turn away, to block it all out. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not when she was this close.

“Cold?” Mikey repeated with a quiet laugh, but it wasn’t genuine. His lips twisted into a tight, strained smile. “I’m just doing what needs to be done. What everyone expects.”

Y/N stepped forward, her brows furrowing slightly. “I’m not talking about the fight. I’m talking about… you. You’ve been shutting everyone out. Including me.”

The truth stung, but he couldn’t deny it. Mikey had built walls around himself so high that even he had trouble seeing past them sometimes. But she… Y/N… was one of the few who managed to break through. And that terrified him.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Mikey muttered, his voice low, his eyes sliding away from hers. The coldness in his tone was still there, but it wavered, like a fragile mask about to crack. “I didn’t ask to… care about anyone. I didn’t ask for this to happen.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the pain that he was trying to bury. She had seen it before, but now, it was raw, exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

“I already told you… You don’t have to do this alone, Mikey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to shut me out. You don’t have to push everyone away.”

Mikey met her gaze then, his expression unreadable for a moment. But then the walls finally began to crack, just slightly. His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He was fighting something inside him, something he wasn’t sure how to explain.

“I…-” Mikey started, his voice thick, but he cut himself off. It was as if admitting it out loud would make everything real, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that. It was all too much.

But Y/N didn’t look away. She didn’t step back. She stood there, waiting, silently urging him to say what he needed to say.

“I’ve been pushing everyone away because I thought… I thought I’d lose everything if I let anyone close. Especially you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. She stepped closer, so close now that Mikey could feel her warmth, the strength in her presence. He couldn’t run from it. Not anymore.

“We’ve both been through too much for me to just walk away now.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Mikey let his guard down. His shoulders slumped, the fight leaving him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. His breath caught as he reached for her, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped her cheek. The gesture was tentative, hesitant, but it was enough.

“Mikey…” Y/N whispered, her voice soft as her hand found its way to his, holding it there. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to.

Mikey closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the quiet of the moment, the tenderness in her touch. He had always been so sure of everything. His power, his strength, his control. But with Y/N, it felt like he had to unlearn everything he knew. He had to let go of the fear of losing himself. The fear that if he let her in, it would break him.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Mikey admitted, his voice barely audible, but it was the truth. It was always the truth.

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. “You won’t. I’m with you, Mikey. Whatever happens.”

Without another word, Mikey leaned down, his lips finding hers in a kiss. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t clean, but it was real. 

When they finally pulled away, Mikey looked at her, his eyes softer now, but still guarded in that way only he could manage. “You’re really not leaving me?” he asked.

Y/N smiled, her fingers brushing his jaw. “I’m right here. Always.”

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Do you think the bayverse turtles ever get stuck on the back of their shells???

I cackled at this mental image XD

-A bayverse adorer and a huge fan of your work❤️❤️

Turtle Spinning Tops

A/N: Thank you so much, it means a lot😘💚🐢 The short answer is no, I don’t think so. But if one were to keep them on their shell and spin them around… hehehehe. I also decided to write a whole piece on this, because I have no chill💙❤️💜🧡

----------

Warnings: Spelling and mental imagery of back spinning Bayverse turtles.

----------

On one really knew when it started. It had just always been a thing they did to each other, especially as children. If one were to slip and fall, and land on their shell (which wasn’t too nice already), it wasn’t uncommon for that poor turtle’s brothers to jump into action, force them down while one to a hold of their ankles before spinning them around like a spinning top. Or as Mikey called it, a Turtle Blade, finding it similar to a Beyblade.

None of the turtles were a big fan of being a turtle spinning top, but they couldn’t deny how hilarious it was to watch their brothers spin helplessly on the floor. Besides, they had done it to him, so why shouldn't he also do it to them? It was only fair!

With that being said, a turtle spinning on their shell did cause a lot of distress. Especially when they were younger. Regular turtles aren’t meant to be upside down for a long period of time, so for a mutant baby turtle, their survival instinct would kick in. But as they grew older, it became less distressing and just more annoying. Once they hit their late teens, it became more and more rare for them to do it. If Raphael was watching television, and Donnie accidentally slipped on his way from the kitchen, Raph couldn’t be bothered enough to call in Leo and Mikey to help him. Instead he would just look over and ask, “shell’s good?”, which it usually was.

If you were to ask Master Splinter, he’ll tell you this started around the time they started walking. One would fall onto their back, either because their legs gave out, or because they took a misstep, and in no time the others would be upon the poor fellow. Back then it was almost a terror for them to be stuck on their shell, and Splinter had to step to comfort them.

But as scary as it was for them as toddlers, they almost found it fun once they hit their early twenties. After two to three years of not doing it, because it was “child-like and so not cool”, they started doing it again. But now it had suddenly turned into a way of celebrating. Instead of holding their brother above their heads and praising him around like many humans did, they get them on their backs as fast as possible. Leo finally mastered that technique he had practiced for months, maybe even years? Get him on his shell, now! Mikey finally had the world record in some obscure game none of them had ever heard of before? Turtle Blade! Donnie had finally cracked the code on something, or he finished that thing, he had been working on day and night in his lab? Spin and jump, so his legs don't kick you out! Raph set a new weight record, just like he had been trying to for months now? Spin! Spin! Spin!

God forbid if any of them ever got married. People will be asked to move from the dance floor, so they can give their brother a proper spinning. They only spin that could rival that, was if any of them had children. Their partner would quickly learn to keep a space open, if they ever had to tell his brothers any big news.

[yanomiki]

“Power doesn’t always scream. Sometimes, it wears silk and speaks in riddles.”

Headcanons!~Emma

Sano Emma: First Princess / Cultural Icon

A beloved public figure who reshaped the court’s aesthetics and social circles. While she doesn’t wield a sword or spell, her influence through fashion, art, and politics is just as sharp.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

1. The Empire’s Living Portrait:

Emma’s face has been painted more than any other royal. Portraits of her hang in academies, tea salons, and fashion guilds—not by order, but by adoration. She represents a standard of grace, balance, and poise.

2. Redefined Royal Dress Codes:

She rewrote the court’s style rulebook—blending ornate kimonos with European corsetry and high collars. Her hybrid fashion sparked trends from commoners to foreign diplomats, leading to the "E-Silhouette" craze.

3. Knows Every Court Secret—But Spills None:

Though she doesn’t engage in swordplay, Emma is unmatched in courtly strategy. She knows who’s sleeping with whom, who’s skimming gold off taxes, and who’s forging alliances in the dark. Her weapon is silence—and the implication that she might speak.

4. Never Wears the Same Headdress Twice:

Each elaborate hairstyle and crown has a purpose—coded meanings only those in high society understand. A peony pin may mean mourning. A black ribbon means disapproval. The empire watches her choices like scripture.

5. Master of the “Backhanded Compliment”:

Emma’s court language is polished, polite—and lethal. She can reduce a baroness to tears using only four elegantly spoken words and a polite smile.

6. The Emperor’s Favorite, but Not His Pawn:

The Emperor dotes on her as his jewel—but she plays a long game. She subtly redirects his decisions, shields Mikey from consequences, and quietly arranges policies to protect the poor and marginalized.

7. Hostess of the Velvet Salon:

Once a week, Emma opens a private evening salon—no men allowed—where poets, seamstresses, healers, and noblewomen gather to speak freely. No guards. No masks. It’s said more policy is shaped there than in the war room.

8. Highly Trained in the Art of the Fan:

Emma’s fan movements aren’t just graceful—they’re encoded language. She can signal allies, insult enemies, or even give orders with a flick. Mikey is one of the few who can interpret it fully.

9. Suffers in Silence from Chronic Illness:

Few know Emma has a condition that weakens her lungs. On bad days, she stays hidden behind sheer silk screens, dictating letters while coughing into embroidered cloths. She sees illness not as weakness—but proof she can lead with pain.

10. Once Talked a Foreign Prince Out of War:

A visiting prince challenged the empire’s honor. Rather than let the court escalate, Emma danced with him at a gala and whispered truths in his ear. He left the empire the next morning—and never spoke of it again.

11. Keeps a Hidden Garden on the Palace Roof:

Among vines and cherry trees, Emma tends to rare blue lilies she cultivated herself. Only Mikey and one maid know of it. It’s where she prays, thinks, and weeps when the weight becomes too much.

12. Gave Mikey His First Ribbon:

When they were children, Emma tied a piece of her hair ribbon around Mikey’s wrist after a brutal training session. “To remind you you’re still human.” He wore it under his armor for years—until it frayed to nothing.

13. Writes Anonymous Editorials in the Court Gazette:

Under a false name, Emma submits sharp critiques of noble excess, imperial waste, and war policies. The public loves the author. The court wants them unmasked. Emma smiles whenever the topic comes up.

14. Keeps Every Letter From Her Mother:

Their mother died young, but Emma still has every ink-stained letter she ever received. She rereads them on lonely nights and copies the handwriting in her own journals, just to keep it alive.

15. Doesn’t Want the Throne, But Refuses to See It Rot:

Emma will never claim the imperial seat, but she’ll fight tooth and nail to keep it from falling into unworthy hands. Her loyalty is not to the throne itself—but to the people it’s supposed to protect.

16. Taught Herself to Dance in Foreign Styles:

She practiced French and Spanish dances in secret by candlelight, then stunned the court at the spring equinox gala by outshining the foreign envoys at their own traditions.

17. Wears Perfume That’s Impossible to Replicate:

It’s said her scent is a blend of peony, sandalwood, and something no one can place. Rumor says it was created by a blind apothecary she once saved from execution.

18. Feared More Than the War Council:

Generals may shout and duel—but when Emma raises an eyebrow at your proposal, your career is already dead. Mikey once said, “The blade cuts once. Emma cuts forever.”

19. “The Mirror Queen” of Court:

Emma is called The Mirror Queen in hushed tones—not just for her beauty, but because she reflects people’s true nature back at them. A smile to a cruel noble reveals their insecurity. A pause after a compliment exposes their guilt.

20. Keeps Her Enemies Close—At Her Table:

She invites her most dangerous political rivals to her salons and banquets, seats them closest, and treats them with warm familiarity. They leave flattered, never realizing she’s mapped their every ambition by dessert.

21. Learned to Speak Five Languages for Diplomacy:

Emma speaks not only in court Japanese and English, but also Latin, French, Korean, and Mandarin. She does this not to boast—but to avoid ever relying on male translators in key negotiations.

22. Doesn’t Trust the Church:

Emma is respectful during ceremonies, but never leads prayer. She believes the clergy wields too much power under the guise of purity. She funds the arts and sciences instead of temples—quietly redirecting influence.

23. Her Dresses Tell Stories:

Every outfit Emma wears is layered with narrative. A phoenix embroidery when the empire is in crisis. A storm-gray obi on days she challenges the council. Her most scandalous gown was stitched with a subtle ouroboros—eternity consuming itself.

24. Once Saved a Servant’s Life by Breaking Protocol:

A young servant falsely accused of theft was about to be executed. Emma stepped barefoot into the judgment hall, broke a fan in protest, and forced a public retrial. Her act stunned the empire—and spared the servant.

25. Has a Collection of Masks, Literally and Figuratively:

In a secret chamber behind her dressing quarters, Emma keeps over two dozen ceremonial masks. Kabuki, opera, funeral, festival. She stares at them when preparing for major decisions. “Every role must be worn well,” she whispers.

26. Refuses to Marry for Power:

Emma has turned down over 40 suitors—princes, generals, and merchants alike. The court believes she’s celibate, but Emma simply refuses to be purchased. Her heart is her own, and that threatens men more than a blade.

27. Has Eyes and Ears in Every Noble House:

From former maids to forgotten daughters, Emma has quietly built a web of loyal informants—those whom the empire ignored, she empowered. In return, they whisper secrets into her silken veil.

28. Sometimes Sings Alone at the Observatory:

At the top of the palace’s watchtower, where stars are studied, Emma sings lullabies in her mother’s voice. Only the wind hears. Some guards say the tower is haunted by a sorrowful spirit in silver.

29. The Only One Mikey Listens To Without Question:

Even as a feared general, Mikey softens in Emma’s presence. She can calm his rage with a glance. Their bond is deep, quiet, and sacred—not because she controls him, but because he sees her as the last true piece of their childhood.

30. Once Challenged the Chancellor Over Tea:

During a public tea ceremony, the empire’s chancellor insulted a female scholar. Emma calmly overturned her tea bowl—a massive break in protocol—then recited the scholar’s thesis from memory. The room went silent.

31. Keeps a Silver Dagger in Her Vanity Drawer:

A gift from Mikey. She’s never used it, but sharpens it regularly. She says it reminds her that her power isn’t just symbolic.

32. Has a Hidden Room of Banned Art:

Emma collects artwork deemed “too provocative” or “politically dangerous.” Nude sculptures, rebellion paintings, even love poems between women. She hides them in a locked room, protecting beauty from ignorance.

33. Once Wrote a Children’s Book Under a Pseudonym:

Titled The Thread of Starlight, it follows a princess who teaches a sleeping empire to dream again. It became a folk classic. Only Mikey and the Empress Dowager know she wrote it.

34. Dislikes Mirrors Despite Her Reputation:

Despite being the empire’s beauty icon, Emma avoids her reflection. She says, “I don’t want to mistake the mask for the face underneath.”

35. Hates the Sound of Applause:

It reminds her of funerals—forced, loud, and hollow. She prefers silence, or the rustle of paper. True approval, to her, is in what people choose to remember.

36. Wears a Poison Ring—Not to Kill, but to Signal:

Emma has a discreet ring with a hidden compartment. It contains not poison, but a slow-acting dye that stains tea. If she ever suspects someone plans to poison her, she slips it in her own cup first—forcing a public test of loyalty.

37. Her Quill is Mightier than the Throne:

Behind the scenes, Emma ghostwrites political speeches for other nobles—carefully shaping imperial discourse through other voices. Entire reforms have passed without anyone realizing she was the one who seeded them.

38. Keeps an Alias in the Underground Fashion Market:

She’s known as Lady Thread in the black-market fashion scene. She sells “illegal” hybrid garments—Japanese-European fusion designs considered improper by conservatives. It’s her form of rebellion through fabric.

39. Practices Political Theater:

Emma often stages “fainting” or “emotional outbursts” in court—not because she’s weak, but because men lower their guard when they think a woman is fragile. She lets them underestimate her—then bleeds them dry with policy.

40. Secretly Teaches Court Girls Self-Defense:

Once a week, she gathers maids, concubines, and noble daughters under the guise of poetry readings—but they’re taught how to wield fans as daggers, stilettos hidden in hairpins, and chokeholds disguised as dance steps.

41. The People See Her as Their True Leader:

While the emperor rules in name, many peasants and artisans quietly consider Emma their sovereign. Street murals show her wrapped in vines, holding a scale. Children say, “Princess Emma hears even the whispers.”

42. Hides Her Rage in Poetry:

She writes scathing verses under a pseudonym published in underground zines. One poem criticized the emperor directly. No one knew it was her, but when she read it aloud in a salon—her voice shook, and Mikey didn’t blink.

43. Has a Fractured Relationship with the Emperor:

She refers to him as “The Crown” rather than “Brother.” They haven’t spoken directly in years. Emma believes he squandered the nation’s soul. He fears her influence more than any sword.

44. Plans Her Own Succession—but Not as Empress:

Emma doesn’t want the throne. She wants to choose who rises next. She’s grooming a young orphaned noble girl, turning her into a symbol of a better future—one Emma will build from the shadows.

45. Collects Last Words:

Emma keeps a handwritten book filled with people’s final statements—generals, traitors, artists, commoners. It’s a record of empire’s truth told only at death. She reads it during storms.

46. Does Not Cry Publicly—Ever:

It’s said the last time Emma cried in public was when she was ten. She has since trained her face into a calm mask. But those closest to her know—if Emma touches her necklace mid-sentence, she’s holding back grief.

47. Can Curse Like a Sailor—But Only in Latin:

In moments of genuine anger, she swears fluently in Latin. Few understand her, but Mikey does—and when he hears it, he knows to prepare for war.

48. Keeps a Blood-Stained Handkerchief in Her Journal:

It belonged to her mother, who died under mysterious circumstances. Emma believes the court covered it up. Her entire career is partially fueled by uncovering the truth—piece by piece.

49. Has Been Proposed to by Foreign Princes She’s Never Met:

Several suitors sent her locks of their hair, paintings, and even rare animals—none received a reply. Emma simply donated the gifts to orphanages, saying, “Let children gain what love never gave me.”

50. Keeps a Map of the Empire—But Her Version Has No Borders:

It’s hand-drawn, without color-coded kingdoms. On it, Emma has written phrases in every language she knows: Hope is borderless. Justice is unspoken. Love is forbidden but never dead.

~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~

Good news, my writers block is gone and I've been hyperfixiating again! Bad news is that it's for 3 different fandoms. Monster high,Welcome to demon school iruma-kun and Twisted wonderland, I'm planning on posting my twst in ao3, So stay tuned.

[le01zk00l]

WHAT R UR FAVORITE HEADCANONS FOR THE TURTLESSS

OHMYGOD im gonna be yapping 1.-Autistic Raph : I rlly like this headcanon, it might not be as popular as the donnie/Leo autism headcanons, but I like it! since autism it's a whole spectrum and donnie is the one with that types of headcanon's specifically , in 2012 for example, I feel like raph would be a strangely raw and nice representation (IM NOT AUTISTIC! don't take my word as someone who has gone through it) like, he doesn't like his space being invaded, he get's mad at people crossing his boundaries, and it's overall nice! tottmnt raph makes the autism headcanon more seen and I LOVE IT 2.-Trans masc Rise Leo: im not a huge Rise Leo fan , but I sure do like these head canons >_< 3.- tottmnt donnie's gacha life phase : I SAW THIS ONE AT ONE OF MY MUTUAL'S REBLOGS AND UGHHHH I LOVE IT (Raph voice acting the alpha wolfs is so real) 4.- raph being artistically gifted is so real (Except 2018 probably..) 5.-LEO (2012) SNEAKS OUT AND STAR GAZES ..IT'S REAL PLS TRUST ME 6.- Mikey forgetting he's allergic to things and eating them anyway 7.- the turtles all chose their own birthdays! no matter the iteration, they all tried getting a special day for themselves besides the mutation day 8.- DONNIE AND RAPH ARE TWINS!!! I feel like they give off this middle child energy that cause chaos and destruction, raph does the actions, donnie the planning 9.-back 2 don n Raph, since they r twins, I feel like they share their birthday day, like..Donnie's "birthday" is the whole morning till 2 PM and Raph's birthday starts from 2 PM till night, they split their day so they both can celebrate separately (my personal headcanon!!) 10.-Mikey likes having background noise ALL THE TIME, from white noise, to some random YouTube video, like kitchen nightmares or something 11.- mikey is the only one legally allowed to touch the oven 12.- 2012 Raph takes commissions on the interned to give his brother's money n get them gifts (the amount of furry/art commission's he's gotten is insane, and he's proud of that fact) 13.-Leo say's the name of every single brother, BUT the one he's actually trying to talk to/yell to 14.-Donnie calls the X-treme straps "Gay bacon" 15.- which are actually Mikey's favortie candy.. 16.-they do the turtle pile at least once a month, just cuz..why not? 17.- Raph is a BIG fa of anything art related, show him an animation/art piece/ song, and he will overanalyze it as if he was the ultimate art master!

18.- they all wake up to play Minecraft in the middle of the night 19.- Raph listens to scenemo music, Leo likes Dana del Rey/more chill music, donnie listens to some underground artist OR 0 music at all, mikey likes pop/hip hop music! 20.- they r always fighting and changing the music whenever they go on the turtle van/whatever the cars called...first mikey puts something on..Leo changes it, raph changes it again out of spite for Leo, and donnie just sits there, asking why he was obligated to go through such tortures

thank u so much for the ask anon!!!!!

[uncannyalien]

Hey! I'm going around during round one and giving out good luck charms to all the competitors! I found them at the mall, and they're dnd themed, but that's close enough, right? Anyways, everyone from your party can take one charm. I've got loads of these babies, in case you were worried I'd run out

Michelangelo from my fan-iteration, Teenage Mutant kunoichi turtles, brings gifts! (She's 3'4", I'm assuming she's looking up at the answeres, lol)

"Woah, charms? Those are so cool, thanks lil lady! Or, uh, big lady!" Raph smiles and awkwardly chuckles, recalling how his Mikey doesn't like being called little.

The alligator snapping turtle hunches over to look through the selection, his tail swishing against the ground as he ponders. What to get for each member of his family? He's only heard the term 'D&D' before in passing, usually from April, but once he heard there was math and numbers involved he checked out.

His blue eyes landed on a set of charms designed after the various classes of the roleplaying game, and a smile came to his beak. Colors and symbols he can work with!

The first to catch his attention was an orange teardrop shape with a flame symbol at the center. The cord was nice and small and could easily fit around his youngest brother's wrist!

Others would be more difficult. A purple pendant would be perfect for Donnie, except the symbol was of a weird-looking eye and spikes, like something you'd see in the Hidden City. Definitely not his brother's vibe. But there was a necklace with a gear. Perfect!

This was getting tricky. The two blue-themed charms were of a hand casing magic or a solid fist. The magic one might work for Leo given its royal blue tone, but there was a third piece of a dagger with the familiar shape of Leo's mask. Bingo.

Although April wasn't with them, the choker with a large hammer or club-looking thing would do the trick. The snapper snickered at how it reminded him of his sister's bat.

Jade would be more difficult. The Hamatos hadn't figured out what kind of weapons Jade preferred, if any. But a green sickle with leaves couldn't hurt, right? Green's not their color but she is a plant-based alien. But given her streak with gifts, they'd appreciate it all the same.

That just left himself.

The red battleaxe was the perfect tone to match his mask, tail bow, and markings, but the blue fist from earlier was closer to how he liked to fight... ah to hell with it, red axe it is!

Raph picks up the six pieces of jewelry and thanks this alternate Michelangelo(whom he'd be reminded goes by Micah). He reaches a finger below his belt and pulls out a green piece of paper and places the currency into the kunoichi's hand. Then after a quick glance around, he leans down to the turtle half his size.

"If you ever need to get a vantage point, feel free to find Raph, okay? It looks like I'm taller than most here. Or you can ask Jade, they've really come to enjoy giving piggyback rides and they're even taller than me! Thanks again for the charms! I hope you win your fight!"

Raph waved as he walked away to his family, weaving through the crowd and leaving the turtle to continue selling her wares.

-----

Thanks so much for the ask, I hope you like written responses! The charms were a massive hit with these kiddos. Mikey and Raph wear theirs as bracelets, Leo and Donnie go for longer necklaces, April keeps hers a choker, and Jade excitedly ties the jewelry around her right horn!

You can find more about the Teenage Mutant Kunoichi Turtles here!

Interested in Remember Forever? Here's the masterpost! You can vote for Remember Forever here!

@tmntaucompetition

[thatrandomlemononyourcounter1]

headcannons req for Leo :D

Girlllll

hang on lemme just

lock IN

Raging insomniac (canon in my head)

When he can't sleep he likes to go on reddit and post the craziest AITAH posts ever just to see how people react

When he does sleep, it’s in the most obscure positions known to human (turtle?) kind. Like...genuinely don't think his shell should be able to bend like that

Once he mastered his portalling, he took advantage of it and travelled for awhile, exploring different places. 

He took a little trinket from everywhere he went (Fitz Vacker Core)

Even though he comes off as the friendliest, he’s the most suspicious of people and prides himself on his intuition. 

Will light the entire kitchen on fire attempting to make a piece of toast. he is BANNED from the kitchen

Sometimes he goes to Central Park, and tries to find turtles in the ponds and lakes

Really loves magic tricks and hates when people (cough Donnie cough) ruin them for him

A RAGING mean girls fan

But he claims he's not a theater kid

Loves weighted blankets with a passion, but if he falls asleep under one he'll wake up not knowing what year it is

Allergic to strawberries (loser /affectionate)

The type of guy to have a rock collection (canon in my brain)

Struggled learning how to read when he was younger

Is the medic on the team, yet has the worst bedside manner out of all four of the guys

Cries every time he watches The Land Before Time or any dog movie (twin)

I headcanon him to have adhd (twin)

Spinny chairs are both his blessing and his curse (He crashes into walls)

Is a dog person over a cat person but he still ends up with a pet cat instead

He lets Mikey paint on his shell sometimes when he's stressed

THE END :D

[desceros]

is Leo a ass or boobs guy (very important question)

you come to the holy house of the hand kink and ask me this question

i think it depends, and i can see it either way, but i'm going to make the following arguments for some good ol' shits n' giggles, with a lil' bit of spice so heads up if that's not your cuppa:

rise!leo: boobs

i can see this clown having the TIME of his LIFE coming up and just grabbing your tits because he knows he's allowed. and like, everyone around him is all bro. we get it. y'all are fuckin now. and he's like. yeah. ok. but do you see that i'm allowed to do this

(briefly you rescind permission bc he's so annoying about it, but he goes into the most dramatic pouting session in the world, draping himself over the couch, so you reinstate tit-grabbing privileges shortly thereafter)

he also really loves lying on top of you and just burying his face in your chest. they're so soft. his favorite pillow. and when you're on the couch watching something, he lies to lie down with your back against his plastron, his hands just holding your tits. not even in a sexy way, just in a 'i love this part of you' kind of way. (though often times it turns into a sexy way bc he remembers oh, yeah, tits, and then gets way too feisty for the living room)

bayverse!leo: ass

it's something he learns about himself on accident, coming over to your apartment while you're cleaning on a laundry day. you've been putting it off, so you're down to the tiniest shorts that you never wear bc they're a little, uh, cheeky for public viewing. he comes on through to your balcony all ninja-like, then proceeds to walk straight into the glass door bc you're on your hands and knees fishing the dust bunnies from under the couch and he goes dizzy from the sight of your ass in the air so fast he thinks he might be dying.

(genuinely, as he explains to donnie later what happened and then has to sit there, burning, wishing he was dying, as donnie laughs for like, ten whole minutes.)

he likes to come and stand next to you, putting his hand on your back while you're talking, and then sloooooowly sliding his hand into your back pocket on your opposite hip, using it to press you close. the little hitch in your breath, like it takes you by surprise every time no matter how many times he does it, drives him insane.

he's also a huge fan of how it looks when you're naked and he grabs it, watching how his fingers sink into your flesh and your skin just gives for him, because there's not a piece of you that he can't have.

IDW!leo: hands actually the nape ok fine boobs

i was tempted to say ass, because then he could stare without you knowing and get away with it, but i kind of think he'd find that almost disrespectful, like... giving you the opportunity to be able to catch him is the price he needs to pay to stare. plus i think he really, really, really likes seeing you smile, and that plus the sight of you in a low-cut shirt might actually kill him.

he's very soft with his touches, in a way that you misunderstood in the beginning to think he was shy, or tentative. but it's not that at all; it's more that he likes to watch the goosebumps rise on your skin when he just barely touches you, likes to see how much he can make you react from as little as possible. he likes to test you, push the both of you, see how much it takes to drive himself mad, see how little you need before you're begging for it

(what? idw leo likes edging? yes and you can't change my mind)

he likes it when you wear really thin shirts so he can see the outline of you, his fingers tracing along the strap of your bra in a little promise of what he's going to tell you to do when you're alone, later, once raph's out with casey for the night, mikey's off to get pizza from rupert's, donnie's got his hands in the security system, and his dad is watching his soaps and won't be able to catch the wet sounds of his son's tongue on your skin.

[thdorkmagnet]

RIP Leo (Turtle Tots: Before the Rise)

@flufftober 2024 Day 1- Alt Prompt 6: Gravestone

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Chapter Summary: Alass Leo, we knew him well.

A/N: Already behind it seems. I ended up getting Covid and spent all last week sick in bed so it's thrown off a lot of my schedule, haha. That was also gonna be my prep week so I could build a bigger backlog sooooo yeah. *shrugs*

I do have a small backlog built up but it's probably going to be a bit erratic when I manage to finish and post these. I'm not stressing too much about it though, since I'd much rather make good chapters than rushed ones anyways. Anyways hope you enjoy!!

The sound of shattering glass made all three turtles jump. Leo, Donnie, and Mikey all looked down at the broken remains of plate scattered about the floor, the once pristine image of Lou Jitsu now cracked into a thousand indecipherable pieces. 

After a moment of wide-eyed staring, the attention shifted to a sweating Leo, who just stared guiltily at the ground. 

“You broke dad's plate,” Mikey whispered in horror. 

“No!” Leo shouted, pointing an accusing finger at his twin. “It was Donnie's fault! He pushed me!!”

“Offended gasp!” Donnie huffed, giving Leo the stink eye. “Excuse me! You pushed me first! And it was your dumb idea to play in here in the first place!” 

“Nobody forced you to!” Leo whined, making a pouty face as he twiddled his thumbs around and around and around. 

“Dad’s gonna be so mad,” Mikey continued in a soft whisper, as if that would cover up the crime right in front of them.

“I concur.” Donnie nodded his head in agreement. His eyebrow raised as he asked, “How do you plan on getting out of this one, Nardo?”

“Uhhh,” Leo’s brain stuttered for an idea. “M-Maybe he won’t notice,” he weakly tried, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot as his fingers continued their endless spin. 

“Our father- the biggest Lou Jitsu fan on the planet- isn't going to notice his priceless, one-of-a-kind Lou Jitsu ceramic plate and the pride of his collection is missing,” Donnie deadpanned, he and Mikey giving their sibling a disbelieving look. The softshell rolled his eyes and added in his most condescending monotone, “Yes I’m sure that will happen and that there is absolutely nothing flawed in your logic whatsoever.” 

“Um, but didn’t you just say he would,” Mikey piped up, cutely pulling at the sleeve of his big brother’s hoodie. 

“That was sarcasm, Michael. He is most definitely going to notice.”

“We could buy him a new one,” Leo suggested, staring at the shattered bits like they might light on fire. 

“Does the term ‘one-of-a-kind’ mean nothing to you, Nardo?” Leo shot Donnie an annoyed glare which was met with a smirk from his twin. 

Leo crossed his arms with a pout, huffing dramatically. “Well why don’t you come up with an idea then, Tello!”

“Well since you will be dead meat when father finds out, I suppose I could get to work on your gravestone,” Donnie replied, rubbing his chin as if seriously considering it. 

Leo just stuck his tongue out at his twin. 

“Don’t worry Leo, I bet Donnie’s got a science-y thing that can make the plate fixed all good for you,” Mikey encouraged, hugging his blue sibling around the middle.  

“I do, it’s called glue.” There was no bite in his tone like there was with Leo, little brother privileges and all that. As he glanced back down at the mess of broken shards he seemed to be calculating something. “Though I doubt that will do much.” 

“I gotta try something!” Leo declared, eyes flashing with determination, pumping a fist heroically into the air like he’d seen Lou Jitsu do a hundred times before. To his little brother he said, “Mikey go get the glue.” 

The little box turtle nodded and skipped off to go get said glue. Leo carefully started sorting through the pieces, trying to figure out which fit where, tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth as he worked. Donnie came over and crouched next to him. “I still think you’re dead.” 

“Just shut up and start sorting, Tello,” Leo snapped. 

“Well I am better at puzzles than you,” Donnie muttered, joining his brother in picking through shards. 

Ten minutes and a whole bottle of glue later,  the plate was fixed… kind of. 

It was in one piece at least? 

Okay no that was a stretch-

It was more to say that it now closely resembled what was once a plate but was still obviously an assorted jumble of broken glass haphazardly glued back together. Glue dripped from the cracks and there were small gaps of space where they had lost pieces, not to mention the once smiling face of Lou Jitsu was replaced with a distorted, lumpy thing that vaguely resembled a human if you squinted hard enough. 

So basically…

It wasn’t fixed at all. 

“Okay, that looks, um-” Leo grimaced as he took a step back to get a better look at their ‘creation’. After a moment of floundering for a good description his twin supplied his own.

“Horrible,” Donnie snarked, resting his chin in his hands. “And nothing like Lou Jitsu.” 

“It looks like mushed play-doh,” Mikey commented, picking dried glue off his fingertips.

Donnie snorted. “Or a poor Picasso imitation.”

“Or-”

“Okay I get it!” Leo snapped, pouting to hide his blush. “But, come on, it's dad!” He threw his arms in the air for emphasis. “There's no way he's gonna notice!” 

His siblings didn't argue any further so that must have been enough to convince them. Leo let out a little huff of relief and bent down to carefully scoop up the plate. “Now hurry up and help me get it back on the shelf before dad sees.”

“Wait, Leo, the glue hasn't finished-” Donnie’s warning came a second too late as the plate crumbled in Leo’s hands, chipped bits of glass swimming in sticky glue pooling on the floor. 

“-drying,” Donnie finished lamely before going silent. 

The three turtles stared for a beat, their hard work reset to zero. Or maybe less than zero since they now also had a puddle of glue to clean on top of everything else.

Finally, Donnie turned to Leo. “I'll go start on your tombstone,” he said, voice perfectly deadpanned even as his teasing smirk slipped through the act. 

That snapped Leo out of his stupor, bitterly retorting, “Ha ha, very funny.”

“Oh, I'll help!” Mikey offered, bright smile returning to freckled cheeks as he scooted closer to Donnie. “Imma paint a unicorn!”

Donnie nodded in approval, putting a hand on his little bro’s shoulder. “Good idea, Michael, I'm sure Leo would have wanted it that way.” He looked up at the ceiling as if reminiscing. 

“I'm not dead, you jerks!” Leo shouted, folding his arms in front of him and looking cross. 

“Ah, sometimes it's like I can still hear his voice.” Donnie continued, moving so he and Leo were shoulder to shoulder, a dramatic hand to his forehead. 

“Ugh, you guys are the worst!” Leo grouched, shoving his twin away. 

“Hey I think I can hear him, too!” Mikey said before covering his mouth to hide the giggle. 

“It's almost like he's still in the room with us.” Donnie was going pure thespian now, pretending to wipe away an invisible tear.  

“Can you stop making jokes and just help me already!” Leo hissed, slapping his hands against the ground in annoyance. 

“Boys! What’s going on in there?!” Splinter’s voice rang through the lair as if summoned by the loud commotion, footfalls getting steadily closer. 

“Nothing!” Leo yelled back, trying desperately to cover the mess on the floor with his hands. 

“RIP Leo, gone before his time,” Donnie mumbled before Leo lightly kicked him in the side.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Hello, I'm a humble fanfiction reader from the ancient times, when there was only a fanfiction.net, and I just came by to tell you, how much I adore your One Piece Stories. They really help me to calm down before sleeping and make me smile when my little world is crumbling. ❤️ I saw your post about the voices telling you lies and I would like to help, or at least distract you. 😉 So, here are my silly questions for you:

1. If you were a pizza, what kind of pizza would you be?

2. If you could choose a new color for the sky, what color would you choose and why?

3. If the One Piece was a cookie, do you think Luffy would eat it? 🤔

4. Captain Kid vs. Magneto, who would win?

5. Why are planets round-ish? Only wrong answers please.

6. What is your take on fake-pockets on pants?

7. If you could talk to people for the rest of your life in only one way, what would you choose:

a) rap-batteling

b) Musical singing

c) binary code

d) R2D2 beep-bops?

8. If you were a pirate, what would you call your crew?

9. Kiss-Marry-Kill: Freddy Kruger, Michael Myers, Pennywise? (I know, that's a hard one.)

10. Bite Shanks in the buttcheek or suck on Mihawks toe?

Ok, that's it for now. I hope it helps, Love. Stay strong, I'm rooting for you! ❤️

HELLO FELLOW FANFIC VETERAN ♥️♥️♥️ I still have an account on fanfiction.net. Not active in the least bit, but it's there, with earlier iterations of some of my fanfics here, from when I was in my mid-teens. Sometimes I like to go read them and have a little cringe for old times' sake.

I'm always so glad to hear that any of my work offers comfort in anyway. I write partly as a comfort to myself, and it's the same reason I started sharing it here after being inactive in the fan fiction community for over a decade. Was still writing, I just figured out over time that I garnered more enjoyment out of writing for myself than for an audience, and only started posting again once I learned that I can write for myself and still share it with others.

The asshole voices significantly settled down after I put my metal playlist on full blast and laid down with my headphones on. There's just a lot going on right now and my brain was being way too loud about it. I actually finished a chapter last night but it was just...ugh. Couldn't focus enough to edit or type my author notes.

1. New York style pepperoni, no question. I love pizza in all its forms, but being from New York (originally, and I want to go back so bad I curse my family for ever moving to this hell-state) the classics win out.

2. Green. Because planet Namek.

3. He would not hesitate for even a SECOND. And to be totally fair neither would I.

4. Magneto, particularly Ian McKellan's Magneto. You do not F around with super-villain-Gandalf, I do not care who you are.

5. The round shape of planets is a natural defense mechanism against black holes, which are far less likely to swallow spherical planets because they prefer...a square meal AHAHAHAHAAA okay sorry that was fcking awful i'll stop now

6. Fake pockets are the root of all evil. Especially fake pockets that are just deep enough for me to catch them on my kitchen cabinet/drawer handles.

7. Definitely beep-boops, no contest.

8. I am a pirate though okay, like that's my crew's jolly roger there above my masterlist, I'm just not the captain or a crew officer or anyone important, probably a janitor or something, anyway yeah Hurricane Pirates

9. Kiss Pennywise (1990 It was my first ever horror movie ♥️), Marry Freddie (he's hilarious and I love him), kill Mikey (it's not that I DON'T enjoy the Halloween movies, just not as much as other 80s slashers)

10. I cannot handle feet, but I will more than happily bite Shanks on the ass, and I somehow doubt he would complain.

This has been delightful thank you so much, I was even able to develop a gods-awful planet joke out of it that I will be subjecting absolutely everyone to ♥️ ❤️

[cobaltperun]

The new EF chapter?? hello??

i want to go on a rant again and maybe I'll probably do that , so again if you don't like it just tell me and I'll stop cause this is just a jumble of feelings that i felt after reading this.

The whole unscripted kiss? i am still fucking reeling from it cause jenna felt a tender moment between them and went straight for it😂

the whole feelings regarding the kiss was amazing too.loved it. Imagine them doing an interview in the future and just going , "Yeah , our first kiss was actually an unscripted one and it never made it in the movie💀" and their fans going absolutely crazy over it.

Reader having insecurities?? At this point i am ready to read a fic abt Reader × reader😂😂 doesn't even makes sense, but you write your Y/Ns totally amazing and badass and i know in the EF Universe, almost everyone is in love with her .

Barbara has officially won me over and i fucking love her. To sum up my entire feelings for her in a single line - I WISH WE ALL HAD A BARBARA IN OUR LIFE.

The whole event thing after that? that had my mind racing as fuck. i read up until that part and had to leave cause my lunch ended. My mind was filled up with thousands of different theories. it went from reader having a girlfriend to reader going to do drugs to reader having a child and god i don't even know what i cooked up in the span of 4 hours😭😭😭

Jenna stopping her from going to the said event? Just the bond that they have formed over the span of 2 months and being so comfortable and in sync with each other is absolutety beautiful to read and i need you to know that your writing is absolutely amazing like i am lacking the necessary words to describe it.

The whole balcony scene that you changed from the originals🥺 Mikey teasing the absolute shit out of reader and jenna😂😭 loved that as well..

I think you elaborated on the scene where jenna falls asleep on reader during filming cause i know in the original EF there was a line regarding the same so i can definitely say i am all here for the extended version!!

And reader going to underground fights?!? You weren't lying when you emphasized on the giving reader unrelentless trauma😭😭 I can't wait to see how she navigates through it.

This turned out to be way too fucking long and you can absolutely ignore it. i would not blame you. Seriously.

Anyways, hope you are having an amazing day!

Please take care of yourself and drink enough water!! ❤️

Love you❤️

-👾

If I don't like it? Way too long? My friend, I feel confident saying you are every writer's dream come true! I LOVE THIS! I LOVE YOU! 😁😁💙💙

This could be the very last interaction I get for EF and it would be enough to keep me writing this story until I get it done, that's how much I fucking loved reading this! I swear, if your next ask was you requesting me to write an x reader story for a character I knew nothing about my question would be: Where do I learn about this character? I would not hesitate to jump into a story the size of One Piece!

If I ever ignore or get bothered by an ask/reply/message/anything like this know I have either gone crazy or that isn't me.

And you're still not back at full health! And... and... I love you, I 100% love you. How are you, by the way? Any better?

Now, guess I should actually respond to this. Jenna absolutely did just go for it, hell, she nearly went for it again 🤣🤣 what can I say, she's got it bad. Speaking of fans, should I, once say Wednesday comes out, start including fans in the story? Because yeah, I imagine they would be going crazy over that information.

Stop! Reader x reader would be so damn funny? How would that even work? 🤣🤣 like, at that point I'm just writing a second point view original book 🤣🤣

Yeah, we all need a Barbara. I'm really happy with how she is turning out and you can bet you'll be seeing more of her in the future, especially between projects.

Look, I have never paid much attention to Mikey's interviews, but somehow I feel like she would tease them. And it feels funny considering the roles they play 🤣

Yeah, that scene was mentioned in EF originally, and considering what happened in this chapter I felt like that was needed, for more than one reason.

And finally, the trauma, oh, my dear 👾, you didn't see anything yet, that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Once again THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU!!! 💙💙💙

Edit: I did not just miss answering two whole paragraphs 😅🤣 that's what I get for doing it on my phone. Yeah, having to stop at that point where Reader goes: "I'm in" is unfortunate but you really went wild with the theories. A child? Damn 🤣🤣🤣

Jenna stopping her scene went through so many versions in my head, but I'm happy with the one I wrote, and from the looks of it you love it, so thanks! 😁💙💙

[dandylovesturtles]

🌻🚦🎁 (sending u so much creative energy)

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

Oh all the time. idc if this makes me conceited, I write fics because I want to read them lol

I go through cycles sometimes where there are fics I feel embarrassed about (because it didn't turn out how I wanted or I'm really aware of a mistake or whatever), so I don't read those much, but then I usually get over it and start reading them again.

🚦What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

It's almost always happy endings (I would call them "happily for now" lol, maybe they'll have troubles in the future but for now they are happy). I used to write tragedies or hurt/no comfort more often as a teenager but ultimately I'm not super into writing this kind of thing.

It's kind of funny because I actually am a tragedy fan for original fiction, there's a lot of things I really enjoy that don't have what most people would consider a happy ending, but usually for fanfiction I'm being more self-indulgent so I want all my special little blorbos to come out alright in the end.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Yeah why not:

“Leo?” Mikey asked hesitantly after a moment. “Are you mad at me?”

Leo took a breath and let it out. Was he mad? No, not really. He was far more scared than he was angry. For a split second, he’d thought it was a lot worse than a few cuts and bruises.

“Nah, Mikester, I’m not mad,” he said. “I was just worried about you, is all. I’m glad you weren’t hurt worse.”

“O-oh.” Mikey looked even more miserable now, somehow. He looked down at his lap, lips pursed like he was going to start crying any moment.

Well, that wouldn’t do. “Hey, hey, come on, bud! I’m sorry I yelled, okay? We’ll finish getting you fixed up at home.”

Mikey flinched, which was a weird reaction. Maybe Leo wasn’t managing to be as cheery as he thought. “…Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Leo got to his feet, holding out his hand for Mikey to take. He could hear Donnie and Raph coming back now, hopefully with good news.

“Love ya, Mikey,” he said once his little brother was standing. Mikey still looked so tense, and Leo didn’t know what to make of it. Had he hit his head after all? “Mikey?”

“Uh, yeah. S-sure.” Mikey gave him a wan smile. “Love you too, Leo.”

(for a bad things happen bingo that I will hopefully finish sometimes soon)

Thanks for the ask!