#project battle shell

[nerves-nebula]

Hi, it's the battle shell anon again. I officially made my blogs, which I'll be working on updating tomorrow (as I have a bit of a backlog from working on my battle shell very rough prototype to figure out sizing, shapes, curvatures, etc).

My new main blog is @dynami-tello and my blog dedicated to my adventure making the battle shell is @dynami-tello-battle-shell. Thanks for the encouragement in this projects and to make the blogs and best of luck with your own projects! I hope you feel well/not horrible soon

FADSFHIAFHASD WOOOO WOWOWOOWOWOOWOWO if anyones interested in someone building a real life battle shell you NOW KNOW where to go AGUHAUGH Im so HAPPY HAHHGn

[dynami-tello]

Another night to hyperfixate on working on the Battle Shell prototype. I'm making a SUPER rough prototype of the plating system right now and I've roughly have the measurements and placements figured out for the top half of the battle shell. I'll make a post later officially updating it on the side blog with pictures, but right now I'm doing tests on positioning and sizes of the plates, and places for the connection points.

Currently I need to adjust my plans for the shoulder pieces. On the prototype it's too weak and causing issues, and the bend isn't holding up to the movement tests. And yeah the prototype is REALLY sad to behold but it's for size measurements and will be destroyed once Project Battle Shell is done. I'm trying to keep the shoulders down to two connection pieces, but it might have to be three? I'm going to reinforce the prototype's shoulders so it can be tested better, and I need to adjust the spine because right now it's completely disconnected from first row side plates.

Plus I gotta figure out the sides for lower back plates and how they'll overlap. They need to be a lot thinner than the top back pieces but the angles will be awkward. Also getting the length right, but I'll get to that when I get to it lol

[cat-sithe]

TW: depictions of autistic burnout

burnout sucks balls

currently Going Through It™ and i started thinking about how burnout could affect donnie. personally, the tiniest thing going wrong feels so much worse than it actually is. knowing he struggles with equating his self worth to his tech i can see this being a source of frustration for him during these periods.

p.s. please ignore the updated outfit + old lab combo, i was being silly :P

take care of yourself guys

[dynami-tello-battle-shell]

PROJECT BATTLE SHELL: EXPLANATION (MATERIALS)

Here's my thoughts on possible materials for this project! My goal is to make the battle shell in the most cost effective way, so I'm not going to be going out and buying custom shaped stainless steel parts, even if it would be super cool to do so.

Here's a rough overview of what this post contains, and below will have all the details.

Materials: For the flexible bits I'm planning on going with a mesh. The prototype I'll make, if it uses a mesh base will be made out of an old recycled shirt, but for the official build I want to use a tougher mesh. I'll probably go to a second hand store to find a piece of material that will work for this, as it needs to be stronger than the average shirt.

And metal vs no-metal. A big debate is picking between including metal in the Battle Shell or leaving it metal-less. I've done research into both, though I'll be going into more specific studies and balance the thoughts more.

Breakdown below

OKAY so the metal vs no-metal debate.

I'm tempted to go with metal purely because of the strength metal provides. Will it be harder to get metal for this project? Absolutely! Would it be super cool? Hell yeah!

Realistically my ideas for including metal falls more under implemented weaved metal wires into the framing of the Battle Shell rather than making it out of metal (and while I know where to get scrap metal, I don't have a sound proof area for forging and re-shaping it. Although it would be so fun to do that).

Weaved metal wires would provide a knit-like binding pattern that would help support and strengthen the individual parts of the shell. Metal could also be used for any screws, etc implemented into the build. While I do have screwdrivers of various sizes in my possession (including ones small enough to work on watches) getting the parts for that would be more difficult.

For example, in the plating system I could make each plate out of wires weaved into the correct shape, and layer two or three identical pieces together. Then wrapped in another layer of material, this would theoretically provide some of the durability of metal while still staying as flat as possible.

For the hexagonal pattern I could cut and shape groups of hexagon structures together out of weaved wire, with interwoven wire in the centre of the hexagons to boost strength. However that would take... quite a while. Unfortunately, and I'd have to buy wire to maintain size consistency.

The alternative is to go without metal! My main issue here is that unless I'm patching things together (which I'll likely still have to do in the more polished build) it will require making moulds. I've been doing research into metal alternatives, while also eliminating some from my choices.

I won't use wood or clay (or any clay-like materials). The material left that's available to me without too much hassle is plastic. However I am.. not a huge fan of plastic, and would prefer not to create more.

But that doesn't leave me without any options! I've been doing research into plastic alternatives [1][2] and have come up with a few that I'll consider for the Battle Shell.

First is, as you could likely guess, biodegradable thermoplastic. This plastic-like substances is different than the stereotypical "true plastic," the plastic made from oil, aka synthetic plastics. These are made out of materials that allow the plastic to wear down over a period of time, typically reactive to heat, while maintaining most of the same core properties as plastic.

You may wonder, how will I get these? I'd make my own plastic of course!

There's a few different approaches to making DIY "plastics". There's the more recycling-aligned strategy of melting down plastic yourself, there's a method of melting down grocery bags in heated oil and re-shaping it.

Other ways of making DIY "plastics":

Making casein "plastic" out of milk and vinegar. This method only requires heating up milk, adding vinegar, and straining and removing the casein at the end. It must be shaped/moulded before it cools, and takes over 24 hours to fully harden, depending on how thick it is. The issue with Casein "plastic" is that it's rather weak and prone to crumbling/fracturing, and therefore wouldn't work well as a battle shell (however historically it's quite good at being used for replacement buttons!). It can be strengthened with a clay additive (I believe it was "Montmorillonite" I was reading about). I need to do more research into the creation process, as it does involve curdling the milk which leaves much milk waste.

Making "plastic" out of Liquid Wood. This is an interesting option I've been researching into, and while it is a fascinating topic it's likely an option I won't pick. Liquid wood is made primarily out of honey and sap, and is biodegradable and eco-friendly. You can also buy liquid wood in stores, however it's decently expensive. Must be considered further.

Making Aliphatic Polyesters. Polyesters aren't typically known for being biodegradable, or even semi-decent for the environment in the first place. Additionally the processes of making the different types of Aliphatic Polyesters are beyond my scope, although again an interesting rabbit hole to research into.

Making "plastic" from starch. There's multiple types of starches you can use to make this bio-plastic, it can even be made out of gelatin too. Typically made with vinegar, replacements can be made to the recipe. However it's more difficult to find a balance between brittleness and durability with this bioplastic and runs the risk of creating entirely un-usable batches of plastic if the measurements are off or the heating isn't done correctly.

There's other methods too that I'm researching currently, so expect another post detailing my adventures into possible materials in the future.

If you want to read a bit about plastic alternatives here's some sites to help!

1 https://science.howstuffworks.com/environmental/green-tech/sustainable/5-plastic-substitutes.htm#pt6

2 https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2666893921000189

3 https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1359836822004085

As a side note, do be careful when researching such topics, as I -by complete accident I must add- found many articles about creating homemade explosives. As to avoid any possible suspicious internet traffic I avoided these articles, but the presence of them alone surprised me greatly. I'm unsure if this is simply a "me" thing, as I accidentally found multiple websites for cults while researching mathematics in my grade 10 math class once as well, even when no one else seemed to be able to find such results.

[cedarmoonzz]

between the bars •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

followed by: once more to see you and slow like honey

fandom: gravity falls

ship: ford pines x reader

warnings: brief mention of boners, making out, angst

summary:

being engaged to the world’s smartest idiot feels like navigating a storm while he’s engrossed in his portal research. you wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him.

Three months.

Ninety-one sleepless, tormented days. 

That’s how long you’ve watched Ford, once so full of life, become a shell of himself.

Each day seems to blend into the next, weighed down by the crushing demands of his portal. His bright eyes have lost their spark, replaced by a weary, distant look that suggests he is fighting a constant battle with exhaustion. He’s always buried in his research, disappearing into a maze of endless calculations and theories, only coming up to ask for coffee, food, or help with his measurements. Each interaction is a reminder of the distance that has grown between you, making you ache for the vibrant person he is beneath all the work. It allows you to realize something.

Stanford is an incredibly stubborn man.

You count your breaths, letting the full force of Ford’s distance fill you. Once a day, only in the evening, you allow yourself to feel abandoned, lost, and alone—but only here, only in the evening, before Stanford trudges upstairs for his third pot of coffee. Afterwards, you must set these feelings aside, for there is still so much work to be done, so much still at stake.

Stanford lets you handle all the paper calculations and complex math for the portal, trusting you with the intricate details crucial to his project. Yet, despite your role, he keeps you from seeing the fruits of your labor. You are barred from the basement, the place where the results of your hard work come to life. This exclusion only deepens your sense of isolation and frustration, as you toil endlessly without ever truly understanding the impact of your efforts. The distance between what you contribute and what you’re allowed to see only reinforces the feeling of being a cog in a machine, valued for your skills but denied any real connection to the end result.

Beyond the kitchen door, you can hear your lab mates arguing. The last light of day was leaking through the fissures of the window shutters, changing shape as they paced outside, their shadows stretching to where you sit, hidden, not yet prepared to face them. Though you could not make out their words, you could detect the urgency in their voices. You pressed your palms against your eyes and sighed, then rolled up the loose sleeves of Stanford’s (now your) sweater.

With a harsh, abrupt grunt, akin to the percussive crack of a twig beneath a boot, your fiancé wrenched the splintered door open, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. You were jolted from your thoughts, having been lost in your own reverie as the unexpected noise shattered your concentration. As he stood there, his face etched with a mixture of anger and exhaustion, you could see the deep lines of fatigue and frustration carved into his features. He muttered a stream of incoherent curses under his breath, his visible irritation and weariness painting a stark picture of his emotional state.

Softly, you encouraged him. “Ford, what is it?”

He didn’t answer; he only stood, looking at you as if he might scream.

“It’s Fiddleford!” Stanford growled. “He’s speaking nonsense! Trying to propose that only bad can come from the portal we spent months on! Your calculations, my handiwork and experience? All down the drain because McGucket is scared? It’s ridiculous! I should’ve never trusted him. It seems I can trust no one with my work these days!”

His words caught you between places: you stare down at the ring that graced your finger, the tea kettle whistling, trails of steam emitting behind you, leaving you in between your selves.

“No one?” you repeat, but did not elaborate further. You did not want to be cruel to him, but now that he had insulted you (now, of all times, when you were working so hard to understand him), it was difficult to resist lashing out at him.

Ford paused, words caught between his teeth as you stood in silence. “[Y/n]… my love.” Regret crept into his voice, daring to color his words with a warmth you were sure was genuine—but rather than comfort, it only wounded you. “Of course I can trust you. This portal… It wouldn’t be possible without your work.”

It broke you—or broke what feeble grip you had on yourself, the reserves of strength you used to keep your grief and despair in check all spent.

“My work,” you spat out, almost hissing the words through clenched teeth. You threw the kettle off the stove and pivoted to confront him, closing the distance between you with two broad, angry strides. Pointing a finger at him, you seethed, “Is that all the trust you have? Just your precious portal? Ford, when was the last time you actually talked to me? I can't deal with this anymore! I followed you all the way to Gravity Falls, to the middle of nowhere, and you barely let me see the full scope of my work. Always holed up in the basement.”

Your palm remains red from the heat of the kettle’s handle, but that does not burn as bad as the heat of your fiancé’s abandonment. And still, stupidly, in spite of it all, you wanted to trust Ford. To believe that there was a reason, an explanation for all the half-truths and deceptions. You want to protect him. You want your answers. You want to see him: not a passing nod of acknowledgment, or a pat on the back as you walk past him, or a fragment of him in a dream, but his skin in the flesh, and you loathe yourself for how badly you want it… but you turn that loathing outward, funneling it through the anger, and set the air around you crackling with fury.

As you glared at him, a profound sense of abandonment and worthlessness enveloped you like a shroud. It felt as though you had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified calculator in Ford’s eyes—a mere instrument, a cog in the vast machinery of his ambitions, used and discarded with no regard for your own significance. The weight of your perceived insignificance bore down on you, each moment in his shadow a reminder of how fleeting and unimportant your role had become. The very essence of your being seemed to diminish with every unacknowledged contribution, leaving you to wrestle with the crushing realization that your efforts and sacrifices had been eclipsed by his relentless pursuit, barely noted and even less appreciated.

Stanford’s eyes met yours, narrowing ever so slightly as he took in the gravity of the moment. He measured the tension between you, a flicker of regret crossing his features as he struggled to comprehend the full extent of your pain. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken remorse, before he finally cleared his throat, his voice betraying a hint of sorrow for the hurt he had caused and the realization of how far he had let things go.

“I'm sorry, [Y/n].” Stanford reached out to hold your waist—and did you imagine it, or did you lean into that touch, pressing your body to the warmth of his open palms? You swallowed. Softly, he asked you, “Do you want me to go?”

You shook your head, more as an excuse to look away from him than anything—now that you had reprimanded him, you realized just how close he was, and your hair fell in front of your eyes, offering you a moment of reprieve. It was difficult having him so near; when your rage subsided, you were left with a profound sense of abandonment and a wounded heart. In a voice tinged with desperation and hurt, you asked, “Why can’t you just let me help you, Ford?”

As the words left your lips, you found yourself instinctively moving closer, your breath mingling with his. The proximity heightened the tension between you, the unspoken emotions crackling in the air. Your lips nearly brushed his as you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice blending with an undeniable, charged intimacy.

“[Y/n],” he begs, but he keeps his hands around your waist. “It’s dangerous…” But even as he speaks, his head is falling towards yours, his mouth ajar and questing, breath ragged.

You lift your hand from the collar of Stanford’s lab coat to hold his face, running your thumb tenderly over the stubble that graced his sharp jawline.

“I’m just as capable as Fiddleford,” you whisper, only inches between you now, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck as you speak the words. “Let me prove myself to you.”

Ford shudders. When his eyes meet yours again, they read something within them—perhaps some hidden fate or doom—and then, he remains. He holds you in his eyes like he is weighing you, or trying to carry a piece of you away with him. With a weary sigh, he lifts his hands to frame your face instead, tracing your cheek with his thumb. He leans forward—you dare not breathe—and presses his lips to your brow, just below the line of your hair. You can feel the soft warmth of his breath against the top of your head. Your eyes sting with tears; you will your body not to shake.

“I know you’re incredibly intelligent, but what Fiddleford saw in that portal… it ruined him. I don’t want the same fate for you.” He pleads, raising a hand of his own as if to pry yours from his face, but it trembles instead, then covers yours, holding the warmth of your palm to his cheek. “It is not that simple.”

“It can be,” you insist, as you lower your other hand to rest above his frantic, pounding heart. “It is.”

The space between the two of you is shrinking before you know whether you or Ford had moved first. Then your palm was carding through the tangled brown hair at the back of his head, drawing him closer as you kiss. When your mouths first met, Ford flinched, as though he might retreat… but he parted his lips for you, and your knees weaken at the taste of his tongue. You clutched his lab coat; his hands danced across your waist to the small of your back and held you against him. His heat rose against you; you could feel him through his slacks, insistent against your thigh—

“I’m sorry,” Stanford whispers, his lips brushing against yours before he pulls away. He turns abruptly and exits the room. Without another word, he heads straight for the basement, leaving you standing there, your heart aching with the weight of unsaid confessions and unfulfilled desires. The intensity of the moment lingers in the air, a palpable reminder of the emotional distance that remains between you.

The way he looked at you was too much; so much unspoken between the two of you, so much you wish to tell him, confess to him: how he always makes you feel safe. That this whole research project, the calculations and all, had only ever been bearable because he had let you be by his side. That his presence is more valuable to you than anything; that you had treasured every moment spent with him. That you’re worried for him.

That you felt like he was in danger, and you were running out of time.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 3!!!

Now that Leo and Raph are done, it's Donnie's turn for character analysis as a writing reference. So without further ado,

Donnie Character Notes

Language Habits:

Straight up talks like a redditor who hasn't touched enough grass (affectionate)

Oscillates between very scientific paper polished, sometimes adding a dazzle of shakespearean for dramatics, or abbreviations/a shorter version of a word with a more fun connotation (i.e. "brekkie" instead of breakfast)

Uses food as surprised exclamations or curses, "oh my peaches and cream", "banana pancakes!"

Emphasizes each syllable of a long word when he's excited or trying to make a point. Conquered becomes con-qu-ered

Either exaggerates his speech or speaks in deadpan

The science terms he uses as battle cries aren't chosen at random, but rather are related to the action/subject at hand, i.e. yelling "fibonacci" when throwing his spinning tech-bo

Will overly describe an item or a situation, and often gets caught up in these observations before processing what just happened

Will repeatedly yell "help!" when he's distressed and/or outnumbered

Refers to Mikey as "Michael"

Refers to his brothers as "brethren" or "gentlemen"

Refers to splinter as either "father", "papa", or "dad" depending on the weight of the situation

Refers to his tech as his "babies"

Answers the phone with, "You're conversing with Donatello"

Uses "gesundheit" instead of bless you

Personality:

The fixer, he supplies the family with tech and resources. He always has a trinket made for the situation at hand and/or offers his knowledge/data collected. He's always prepared to help. Even with outside resources, he likes to feel useful in solving their problems (i.e., building Todd that dog park)

The theater kid, in a similar vein to leo, Donnie has his own style of dramatics. He often uses shakespeare-like language, is mentioned to regularly recite the jupiter jim musical soundtrack, and has a music mode for his battle shell. He belongs on a stage, or at least thinks he does

Not good at lying, despite the glamour he can put on in the spotlight. This may be due to the side of himself that over explains his thoughts

An over-thinker, who really tends to over-complicate things. His first theory or idea will always be the most extreme buck-wild concept. After some filtering, he still word vomits

A dreamer/big idea guy. He does have big ideas and goals. A lot of these he's able to put into place, although some go a little haywire (see Albearto). He doesn't do things in halves, and puts everything into a project

Meticulous, someone who's very detail oriented. As mentioned before he tends to over-complicates things. This may be impacted by his love for data and collecting information (he does record Everything for a reason)

Always on the edge of violence, which is surprising. Donnie's not known as being the angry archetype of tmnt, but he can get a little violent in his fighting style and does often cite his desire to use lethal force

Low empathy, which is mainly due to his issues processing and recognizing emotions. He's been pegged as unemotional, but in canon he's rather emotional and expressionate, just lacking the skills to process such emotion (he's just like me fr)

Praise motivated, as seen with his interactions with Splinter. Also desires the praise of his brothers, who he doesn't feel understand him with all the teasing that's sent towards his direction. This also pushes him to seek validation and acceptance in other groups (i.e. the purple dragons), to feel a sense of security or belonging

Ignores his own mistakes, and will often pretend like they didn't exist or ever happen. This most likely has to do with his desire for praise, so he feels bad when he fails. If he never made a mistake, he never has to feel bad

Miscellaneous:

Fourth to unlock mystic powers

Uses "Bootyyyshaker9000" as most of his usernames and passwords, with his alt. username being "Alpha-Bootyyyshaker9000"

Has a fear of bees, spiders, and of course beach balls

Breaks the fourth wall the most

Loves the smell of pineapple, hates the texture

Has a hobby of rooting around in the junkyard and dumpster diving

Uses cheat codes in video games

Mikey's next of course :)

[blueiscoool]

A Blue Painted Shrine is the Latest Discovery in Pompeii ‘Treasure Chest’

Archaeologists have unearthed an intricately decorated blue room, interpreted as an ancient Roman shrine known as a sacrarium, during recent excavations in central Pompeii in Italy.

The Italian Minister of Culture, Gennaro Sangiuliano, visited the site on Tuesday, describing the ancient city as “a treasure chest that is still partly unexplored.”

The blue color found in this new discovery is rare, with the culture ministry outlining that it is generally associated with environments of great decorative importance.

An in-depth analysis of the room, according to the ministry, found that the space could be interpreted as a sacrarium or a space dedicated to ritual activities and the conservation of sacred objects.

The walls of the room feature female figures that are said to depict the four seasons of the year, as well as allegories of agriculture and shepherding.

The new discovery came amid excavations in the Regio IX area of central Pompeii, a residential area that is currently one of the most active excavation sites for new findings.

The excavations are part of a broader project to secure a perimeter between the excavated and non-excavated areas of the archaeological park, which currently has more than 13,000 excavated rooms.

The project aims to improve the structure of the area, making the “protection of the vast Pompeiian heritage… more effective and sustainable,” the culture ministry said.

Other recent findings in the area include furnishings belonging to a house, a bronze kit with two jugs and two lamps, building materials used in renovations, and the shells of oysters that had been consumed.

Last week, it was reported that archaeologists in Pompeii had uncovered children’s sketches depicting violent scenes of gladiators and hunters battling animals.

The drawings, thought to be made by children between the ages of five and seven sometime before Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD, were found on the walls of a back room in the residential sector of the archaeological park.

They showed that even children in ancient times were exposed to extreme violence.

By Antonia Mortensen and Jessie Gretener.

[angelpuns]

Here's the official Lil Hater Donnie ref!

I opted for a pretty simple design for him, while thinking a lot about how his recovery post-krang went. He has a bit of nerve damage and is working to accommodate for that as it continues to develop. He didn't have too many issues immediately following the invasion, except for the scarring and sensitivity on his shell, but a lot of the issues have shown up later. He didn't upgrade his tech a ton because using his ninpo has become a lot more commonplace and he's even better with it than before. However, for his cane he has recreated his tech bo.

For the most part he just uses the cane function, though if he really needs to he can also whip out the tech bo. He can also use his ninpo to make a cane if he really, really needs to, but for the most part he keeps it on him. He only really uses it currently when having to walk long distances or stand for a while, but Leo (who is still the team medic atp) has projected him maybe having to use it more in the future as things progress. They are trying to prevent that, but there's only so much they can do :/

He did not have as difficult of a time accepting the cane as Leo did with his crutches/wheelchair, but that was mostly due to already having to accommodate for his shell - especially post invasion when he couldn't wear his battle shell for a while.

Speaking of his battle shell, he has used mostly the same design, but has made it a bit more flexible as well as a lot lighter and not nearly as strong/heavy as previous shells. He has also optimized comfort on the inside and made it adjustable like Leo's in order to accommodate for his sensitivity and damaged shell. His shell is completely healed, but it is still very sensitive from time to time and he does have a bit of nerve damage in some areas that has extended a bit to his legs.

Donnie currently is working with both Big Mama/The Hidden City AND New York on security measures. There's a bit of tension between the Hidden City and the surface of New York post-invasion, so he's playing for both teams in a sense. Mostly for fun, but also they pay decently :)

If you have any questions please send em! I'll answer as best as I can! I also will gladly accept feedback or suggestions, especially regarding his nerve damage and his cane, whether that's design or usage or what-have-you, because I am still doing research :)

Closeups under the cut!

[severeturttism]

[SFW] rottmnt! raphael, leonardo, donatello, michelangelo | who fell first vs who fell harder & romance troupes

raphael "raph" hamato you fell first but he fell harder - the friends to lovers slowburn.

you guys had known each other for years and were close since you were in the awkward croaky teen stages; and it's a slow burn of sorts - you realise you love him really early on (because, really, who couldn't love this sweetheart?), but it takes our wonderful raph a lot longer to catch onto his own adoration for you. with the constant pressure mounting upon him, i truly feel that he only recognises how much he's loved you after leo gets dubbed as the new leader of the 'mad dogz'. now you're his and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

leonardo "leo" hamato you fell first but he fell harder - fake relationship turned mutual crushing, sprinkled with some good ol' fashioned angsty 2nd act.

being friends for many years, when leo asked you to play into this "fake relationship" in order to prove to his brothers that he was, in fact, the better hamato, you agreed readily. why not? he's your friend and you'd love to help him- oh shit, you love him. the realisation is sudden and frightening, any any attempt you make to have your feelings known is shut down (unintentionally or otherwise) by leo. you give up and go no-contact to let the feelings simmer away. leo realises how much he misses you, realises he's in love with you, and hunts you down so he can apologise and profess his love for you (bonus points for the way he presses his forehead to yours afterwards). happily ever after~

donatello "donnie" hamato you fall at the same time, and you might as well crash with how hard you both fall - similarities attract, your romance is not conventional or societally normal, but that's what makes it yours.

you were both menaces together, whether it be through the everyday lab explosion or borderline biological warfare in a vial. you never spoke of your relationship, but you both know when the shift occurred. when wearing his battle-shell in your presence turned into taking it off when you were around. when standing an inch apart turned into you draping yourself over his shell as he worked. when writing reports at opposite ends of the desk turned into him sitting on your lap, tapping away on his tablet behind your head as you typed away on your laptop. love was a convenient word, you both decided - what you had was so much better.

michelangelo "mikey" hamato he fell first but you fell harder - sunshine/storm-cloud dynamic where sunshine helps storm-cloud see life through their eyes, tooth-rotting fluff ensues.

also plays into love at first sight and unresolved trauma troupes. he loved you when he met you, because he could see through that grouchy outer-layer you projected. every disgruntled frown was another reason to make you smile, and every disappointed huff was another reason to make you laugh. he learns quickly you've got things to work through, and he's ever so patient with confronting those big feelings, but he'll show you how good the world can be in the meantime - and good it is, with him, you realise. slowly, you find yourself seeking him out more often... god, you fell so hard you might as well run into a brick wall. he's there through the tough, and you'll be there through the tough for him too.

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 1

A/N: New fic? New fic! This man has me in a chokehold, I'm not even going to lie. I will try to actually finish this one. promise. English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: not much in this chapter. hostage holding, mentions of being a lab rat, violence, swearing, soldier boy (yes, this man should be considered a warning). possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Solitude. Besides the regular visits from the scientists, you hadn’t seen a single person in over thirty years. Or was it forty? In all honesty, you had lost count after the first ten.

The bright light flickered as you leaned against the cold, metal wall of your cell, memories swirling like ghosts in your mind. Once, you had been a soldier. A person with a voice. But all that was ripped away when Vought was done. When they handed you to the Russians. When they completely stripped you of your identity and ripped you from your life as a hero.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a loud clamp, the creaking of a metal door, followed by heavy footsteps. There was no access to time in your cell, but it wasn't hard to recognize patterns and count the hours you were up for the next experiment.

And now was not that time.

As the door creaked open, a shadow fell across your cell. You squinted against the harsh light to focus on the figure standing there, face illuminated by the LED lights above him. Your heart rate picked up slightly, and you unwillingly tugged against the restraints keeping you chained to the floor.

Memories flooded back — laughter shared in the trenches, the camaraderie of battle, the promise of loyalty. But that was before Vought twisted everything into a nightmare. Before he got rid of all that was between you.

As Soldier Boy stepped closer, you realized it was only a shell of the man you once knew. His eyes, once filled with the tiniest bit of kindness towards you, were now clouded with confusion.

With force, you tried to speak up, but quickly realised you hadn't truly uttered anything except screams in a while.

“Well, if it isn't the man who got away.”

Ben looked around before he approached your cell, the glass door the only separation between you. You took the opportunity to look at him properly. This certainly was the man you had once fought alongside, but even if he had been held captive for decades, his features hadn't changed much. His auburn hair was now slightly longer, and a neatly trimmed beard covered the lower half of his face.

“Who the hell are you?” His words stung like a knife, and for a second, you felt like he might as well have hit you with his heavy shield.

“Right. They made you forget,” you murmured as you tore your gaze away from him, head leaning back against the cold wall. “Typical Vought.”

“I’m asking you one more time, lady,” he shot you a daring glance, as if trying to project his dominance despite the fact you were literally locked up. “Who the hell are you? Are you Vought’s newest lab rat?”

“Don’t call me a damn lab rat.” You spat shortly, pointing at nobody in particular.

Ben furrowed his brow, his confusion deepening as he studied you, the spark of recognition failing to ignite in his eyes. The man you had once known—had once fought beside—was buried beneath decades of manipulation, both of your bodies now broken artefacts in Vought's collection.

“They told me you got out, you know,” you started as you realised he wasn't going to speak up first. “Hell, they let me feel that you escaped the labs.”

Ben's face twisted, the sharp edge of suspicion cutting through his once-confident demeanour. He narrowed his eyes as if searching your face for something he should remember but couldn't grasp.

“I don’t care who they told,” he took another step forward, his boots echoing in the empty hallway. The only view you’ve had for decades. “Especially not if they told some rogue kid.”

“Read my fucking sign, Ben. My date of birth is literally there.” You spat, emphasising on his name. Of course, he wasn’t aware you knew of that. Nobody did. Except for his team. Except for you.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Before you could even answer, another set of heavy boots entered the room.

“Oi.”

Ben's eyes darted to the newcomer, who emerged from the shadows at the doorway. The figure was stocky and imposing, his gruff voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The bearded man couldn't resist looking at the sign, whereas Ben chose to ignore it. “Fury,” he stated matter-of-factly as he took his place next to Soldier Boy. “They told everyone you died, you know? But then again, Vought is very good at convincing.”

The name felt foreign to you now, like a relic from another life. Fury—back when you had a purpose. When you weren’t just an experiment trapped in this cold prison of time. But the name still held power. It connected you to a past they had tried to erase, a past Ben was now seemingly detached from.

You studied the newcomer. His presence exuded dominance in a way that Soldier Boy’s arrogance couldn’t touch. Where Ben was brash and impulsive, this man seemed calculating, like he could snap you in half with a flick of his wrist but would choose not to—for now.

"Who are you?" you rasped, your voice a broken shadow of what it once was. You didn't recognize him, but there was something about him that made you wary.

"Name's Butcher," he replied, his gaze not leaving you. “And we’re here to retrieve you.

Butcher’s cold stare seemed to cut right through you, his posture rigid and alert as if he expected you to lash out at any moment. The way he carried himself was different from anyone else you had seen in these halls. He wasn’t afraid of Vought—or of you.

After the words had left Butcher’s lips, Soldier Boy seemed to snap, and he was not afraid to show it. The way he grabbed the collar of the man next to him made you flinch. It wasn't like you've never seen Ben lash out before, but it never failed to make you tense just the tiniest bit. Being brought back to the time when you were on the receiving end.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Butcher?”

Butcher didn’t flinch as Soldier Boy grabbed him, his face betraying nothing but a cold, calculating smirk. He met Ben’s glare head-on, the tension between the two men growing thicker with each passing second.

“Easy there, mate,” Butcher said, his voice as casual as if they were discussing the weather. “You’re all pent up, I get it. But this ain’t the time for a bloody tantrum.”

Ben’s grip tightened, his nostrils flaring as he leaned in closer, his breath hot with barely restrained rage. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Butcher, but I’m not here for your shit. What the hell do you mean ‘retrieve her’? We were here to retrieve information on how to take down Vought.”

Butcher’s eyes flickered toward you, and he spoke as if you weren’t still bound in chains, trapped behind glass. “Vought’s been keeping her under wraps for a long time. You want to take down Vought? There’s your information. And now we’re here to pull her out. Simple as that.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your restraints, your wrists raw from years of confinement. "What do you want?" you asked, your voice low but steady, trying to hold onto whatever strength you had left.

Butcher’s lip curled slightly, his eyes narrowing as soldier boy set a couple of steps back reluctantly.

"What do I want?" he echoed as if amused by the question. "I want the same thing you do. To watch Vought burn to the ground.”

“What’s in it for you?” you only dared to ask. Butcher chuckled darkly, his gaze sharpening as he locked eyes with you.

"What's in it for me? Oh, love, let's just say I've got a personal stake in seeing Vought crumble into dust. But I ain't here for a heart-to-heart. I'm here because you and him, Fury, might be the key to blowing this whole bloody operation wide open."

His words hung in the cold air of the cell, heavy with promise and menace. He wasn’t just some random mercenary or someone acting out of charity—this was personal for him. Soldier Boy, still tense and bristling beside him, seemed less convinced.

“You’re saying she’s got intel on Vought? Enough to take them down?” Soldier Boy’s voice had a sceptical edge to it as if he didn’t quite believe this was worth the trouble.

Butcher shot him a sidelong glance. "More than intel. You and her are living proof of what Vought’s done in secret for decades. And Fury here—she's one of their finest projects."

The way he said “projects” made your skin crawl, reminding you of the years spent under Vought’s control, your abilities twisted, and exploited. But you pushed the feeling down, focusing instead on the conversation.

Butcher leaned in closer to the glass, his voice dropping low. "Vought’s been running a program, a little something they like to keep off the books. Soldiers, supers, experiments—the whole works. They’ve been breeding killers, Fury. And you—you’ve been in the belly of the beast long enough to know exactly what they’ve been up to."

You clenched your jaw, old anger bubbling to the surface. “They don't tell me anything.” you admitted, your voice rough. You didn't want this. You didn't want to be back with him.

But most of all, you just wanted out. You didn't care who you had to betray to make that work.

“But I picked up enough.” It was a simple lie you had told. Of course, you knew what Vought had been up to. You and Ben had been living proof of it. But you knew better than to turn against the people who experimented on you in the first place. You just wanted revenge on the reason you were here.

Butcher’s smile turned vicious. “That’s all I need to hear. You tell us what you know, and we’ll make sure Vought pays for every bloody thing they’ve done to you. To all of us.”

Soldier Boy crossed his arms, clearly still on edge. “And what makes you think she’s gonna play along? She’s been locked up here for god knows how long. Might be more Vought’s weapon than you think.”

“So were you, mate.”

You locked eyes with Ben, a flood of bitter memories surging up as you spoke. "You really don't remember, do you?" The weight of your words hung heavy between you.

Butcher interrupted, his voice cold and calculating. "Whether you like it or not, we could use ‘er. You might not remember, but I reckon she’s got more to offer than just bein’ another lab rat."

"Shut the fuck up," Ben snapped, his voice wavering with frustration. "If I don’t know her, I don’t care. End of story."

But it wasn't the end for you.

It would never be the end for you.

You took a deep breath. "Let me out," you demanded, the last ounce of your strength fueling your voice. "And we take down Vought, together."

Ben shot you a look, his expression hardening. "Why should I trust you?"

You met his gaze, unflinching. "Because, like it or not, I’m the only one who remembers who we really are."

A tense silence filled the room as the weight of your words settled in. Butcher crossed his arms, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Well, then. What’s it gonna be, Soldier Boy?"

“I don’t fucking care. Figure it out.”

His words were sharp. Short. And not a single ounce of caring outlined the roughness of them.

With that, he straightened his back, tightened his grip on his shield, and left the room.

“So,” Butcher said, his voice cutting through the lingering tension. “How about we get you out of those bloody chains, and you tell us what Vought’s been hiding all this time?”

You didn't dare to have hope. But you dared to feel the slightest bit of fury.

A/N: i know she's short. and i know this might probably not make a whole lot of sense?? but i try. it's been so long that i've written that it still feels kinda foreign, so feedback is greatly appreciated!

thanks for reading <3

[daflangstlairde-art]

lightning in our fingertips today

Work 1 of DFL's Whumptober 2024

Summary:

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

—

Chapter 1

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

And now–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, perfect opportunity, Donnie cleared his throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then... at third... 

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

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

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

And he swung Leo’s sword. 

And that is when he felt it. 

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Staring upwards, shellshocked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Far less trinkets and colorful posters. Odd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did it hurt?” 

“No.”

And then. 

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

But. 

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

There were two options: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

Not the point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

00:23 p.m. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was immediately seen.

Yapper boy™: lol

Yapper boy™: cmere

The smarter twin™: ???

Yapper boy™: youkl see

The smarter twin™: SIGH

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

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

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

Huh.

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

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

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

Huh. 

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

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

...Strange.

Leo never came to them to snuggle. 

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

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

...When did that happen? 

—

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

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

Eugh, his breath was rancid. 

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

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

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

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

Leo got up, snatching a hoodie to put on.

“My battle shell is–”

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

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

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

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

He should get up. Right.

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

Now he just had to get up. 

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

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

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

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

Ugh.

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

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

Why was he feeling like this?

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

—

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

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

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

Case in point, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

��Lou Jitsu, babeeyyy!”

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

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

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

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

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

...Wait. 

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

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

“Dude, you would not believe this–”

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

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

Hoo boy was this about to be an experience. 

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

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

And with that same shock-burn to his hands. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Boyfriend! Jinwoo x Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 030 ✦ ┆・

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Let Me Pluck Out The Stars For You, Sunshine ] ¡! ❞

You don't know how you did it, but somehow the infamous Sung Jinwoo who is reveled in your grade level for his exceptional looks— Is your boyfriend. You were about to go home since the last bell of the school day rang in the distance. As you get up, you feel someone's chin rest on top of your hair. "Wanna walk home together, again?" Jinwoo asks with his calm and deep voice, his tone holding a sweet edge to it. "Hm?"

The pressure on top of your head had successfully snapped you out of your daze. Jinwoo removes himself from being nestled on your hair and looks down on your lovely face with the sweetest smiles on his face.

You shy away from his gaze, nodding your head slowly.

“Hm,” Jinwoo nods his head, leaning in to kiss the top of your head before stretching his large hand out to you— Offering it.

As soon as your palm touches his, Jinwoo lightly intertwines your fingers together as he leads you down the stairs.

He knew for a fact that you’re probably upset and not in the mood to talk about it. He wasn’t the type of boyfriend who would probe at his lover to get them to talk.

No.

Jinwoo was the type of person who is silent when he is upset, he’d rather be on his bed and dead asleep— Away from the world. He was often in his room whenever he wasn’t in the mood.

And today in particular, his beloved must be going through those emotions seeing how dejected and sluggish they are moving.

He shakes his head, gently tugging you to the alleyway and placing a finger on your lips to keep you from asking.

“It’s alright,” Jinwoo says. “How about we go on a makeshift date? It’s not a school day tomorrow so let’s spend the night away”

You didn’t protest, and in an instant, Jinwoo wrapped his arms around your waist, holding your waist as close as possible while the darkness beneath your feet hummed and whirled— As if it was rising. You then feel yourself getting lifted off of the ground and you panic. 

“Sarang, it’s okay” Jinwoo chuckles, kissing your cheek as the shadows rose beneath the both of you and formed into a dragon made of misty shadows. “It’s all mine, so don’t be afraid”

As you both rose above the city lights, your eyes would then sweep towards the brilliant lights of the cityscape as Jinwoo flies both of you above it on the dragon’s back.

While your eyes are busily distracted on the cityscape, Jinwoo leans towards your ear— Kissing the shell sweetly to get your attention. 

“How come you’re already this distracted, hm? I haven’t even started yet?” Jinwoo gently says as he commands his shadow to traverse over the expansive ocean glistening beneath the bright moonlight.

Fast as everything was, Jinwoo was unconsciously doing it because he felt like he would run out of time. After all, he wasn’t able to spend time with you like this before he had resetted time after defeating all the monarchs. He wanted to do so many things at once.

He spent years in the abyssal world murdering the monarchs all over again and levelling up. The stress of it all put him into a trance-like state where he feels just so lost in a complete daze of battle and bathing in blood as he leaves a river of bodies at his wake.

But either way, it isn’t about him tonight. 

It’s about you.

The you who needs him at this moment. He doesn’t know what has frustrated you to this point. It could be the piling homeworks, the anxiety of your grades, the stress over preparing for the upcoming exams. Projects had been piling left and right with each subject becoming harder and harder.

Everything had just been stressful for you and he knew that you craved isolation more than anything else and you needed something to just take your mind off of anywhere.

And thank god it was working as he had taken you to an isolated island not yet soiled by human hands.

He loves the way your dreamy eyes would twinkle as you both traversed in the vast woods of the weird place. It was all just greenery and lovely fireflies fluttering about, illuminating the little path you were both exploring. Of course, Jinwoo summons a little flame on his hand so that you could see the plants you are stepping on. 

Jinwoo loves that expression more than anything. Your pretty little face beaming with joy as it observes all the wonderful things this lone island had to bring. Tall, ancient old trees that had a comforting scent to them. The gentle rustles of the leaves as if it were singing melodies for you, the sounds of distant owls hooting were making you jump from spook and wonder, everything in here was just making you squeal like a child opening a christmas gift.

And behind you was your boyfriend, a gentle smile on his lips as he lovingly watched you prance around the fallen leaves and branches.

“Feeling better?” Jinwo asks sweetly, his arm finding itself instinctively wrapped around your waist. 

You nod your head, and he rewards you again with another kiss.

You really can’t tell how many times he had kissed your forehead for the whole day at this point, he just kept giving you pecks left and right. As if he was making sure every pore on your face isn’t untouched by him. He would bring up your hand to his lips, kissing every knuckle on it,  silently making promises.

“Baby…” He purrs softly, nuzzling the side of your head with his nose, inhaling in your scent. “If there’s anything that bothers you, tell me, tell me and I’ll bring you somewhere far away to take your mind off of it. You just need to ask me, and I will do it. Don’t hide yourself from me”

Please,...

Don’t be like him, don’t be like him who needed to bottle up everything in his heart because he had a duty as a monarch. You shouldn’t be hiding away the pain you have inside your chest, you shouldn’t be in any sort of pain.

Jinwoo had resetted time for everyone’s sake, yes, but mostly it was because of you. He wanted to make up the lost time he had with you ever since he became a player. He felt awfully guilty for not having taken you out on dates. Sure, he did a few times when he was an S-ranked but most of the time he is drowned in work and you are left in your devices. The person who had supported him throughout all of his suffering.

He is doing this all to ask for forgiveness, each kiss is a silent sorry for the many seconds he had spent away from you. 

So please,

Don’t let your heart be burdened with worries.

Don’t ever let your pretty face be crinkled with anxiety.

Let him do the heavy-lifting. Let him have the burden. Let him receive all the woe that is meant to befall on your pretty, pretty little face. 

Like the stars above your heads, twinkling from millions of lightyears away, his love for you— Will always and continue to be endless as they are blanketing the dark night sky.

A/N: Sorry, this fic is very messy aaa... I'll make it up to you guys with another fic coming out soon. But I may need to recover my creative juices for a bit and just let myself charge uueee.. I'll probably recreate this fic again with an alternative route

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[dynami-tello]

Welcome to my corner of the internet. (it/its, they/them if you must. Autstic and neurodivergent, I tend to come across more formally than intended. Please note that's just my autism swag and nothing more)

I'm a (new but) big ROTTMNT fan and and currently working on a Battle Shell project (@dynami-tello-battle-shell). Other stuff I'll post will be stuff I find interesting, but mostly ROTTMNT stuff!

Bewarned: I will infodump. I find knowledge interesting and love learning more. Topics I might post about in an info-dumpy way: Psychology, Programming, Science-related stuff, Animals, etc (I'll update this later.)

If you want an essay written about something feel free to contact me. I rather enjoy writing essays and love researching. In general my asks are open to everyone, submit whatever you wish, I enjoy the interaction!

Note: I will not disclose my precise age, however I am officially now technically over 18. I'm not like, into my 20s at all yet though so you can probably guess my age anyways. I won't post anything with a sexual nature, however I may reblog or post things with sensitive mental health subjects (I'll state this here just in case).

[techmagos-binary]

Realised I hadn’t posted any shots of the completed Diorama.

“Scavengers” A Kroot warband scavenging the wreck of a damaged and abandoned Rogal Dorn battle tank.

This was a really fun project that had been sat in my head for nearly 2 years. It was a challenge learning all the military modelling techniques that I needed to get the tank looking like it had been burnt out by shell fire, then abandoned by the crew during a beach landing. Lots of inspiration from the Sherman’s abandoned on Saipan beach.

This was also my first proper resin pour so i decided to use a deep poor 72hr cure resin so I didn’t have to colour match the layers! The waves were then carved into the top using a grinding bit in my dremmel. Then some snow terrain paste to represent the breaking waves and a coat of gloss varnish.

I’m really happy with how this turned out and it’s taught me a lot I can use on future dioramas

[dynami-tello-battle-shell]

PROJECT BATTLE SHELL: AN EXPLANATION

OKAY SO! Here is my more in-depth thoughts on the project. These are my earliest thoughts and ideas for it, and I'll explain more about them in future posts.

First off. Why am I not just buying a back protector? Answer: That’s boring, why would I do that if I could do this instead? Yes, I fully acknowledge that it would be easier to buy a back protector and simply modify it.

Second, what makes me qualified to take on this project? Answer: What makes me unqualified? I’ve taught myself enough semi-related skills and can teach myself further skills SO. PLUS I have the power of hyperfixation on my side and enjoy making stuff, so that’s probably all the qualifications I need. ...probably, we'll see!

Below is all the more technical speak, thanks for the interest!

NOW lets get into the nitty gritty.

I have a few plans for how to approach this project, so the skills I’ll be using and materials I’ll require will be impacted by which approach I choose. Although I have many ideas for separate little bits of how the project will come together, I have two main ideas on how to approach the base structure. Plus ideas for add-ons, fun features, etc, but that all comes later and relies on the base structure.

What I'll be referring to as the Base Structure is the structure that will hold the battle shell together. Think of it as the core, the body, or the skeleton of the shell. Everything else will be planned and built around this "skeleton", so it's important to choose a base structure that can support the rest of the build.

Structurally, regardless of which base structure I chose I have a few main features for the battle armour.

First is that I’m planning to have a mesh layer that will help hold everything together. Instead of relying solely on a solid frame to hold the battle shell together, I’ll have a mesh that has key connection points that attaches directly to the battle shell. This, hopefully, will additional support and flexibility to the shell.

Second is how to wear it. I am creating this battle shell to be as discreet as possible. I want to be able to wear it under a sweater or a jacket without anyone really noticing. Below you can see my rough sketches on how it will connect to the user’s body and be held in place while also flexing with the user’s movements.

(apologies for my messy writing. All of it is similar to what I'll be talking to here. My note style is rather disorganized, as most of my thoughts and ideas are still within my brain and not yet on paper.)

With the main connections points being around the shoulders, chest, and lower back/waist I believe I’ll be able to have the shell connect close enough to the user’s body that it won’t stick out in awkward ways while wearing it. Though adjustments will be made once this can actually be tested. Best seen in the lowest left sketch, although future sketches will elaborate on the system.

ONTO THE BASE STRUCTURE OPTIONS

I have two main ideas for the base structure. These are based on two different construction points. Both focus on finding a balance between flexibility vs durability, something future me will likely have to consider further when it comes to finding materials. The structure needs to have enough strength that it can protect and absorb force, but cannot be too stiff as that can make it more fragile when bending forces are applied, and more obvious when wearing.

The first base structure I'm considering is a plate system. Akin to a fusion between a turtle shell and scales, the plate system will be dependent on connection points between the plates. The plates will be in different sizes depending on where on the back it is situated, and would need solid attachment to the material mesh for flexibility.

(here's the most recent sketch based on calculations I've been making for conceptualizing the plating system. Please ignore the ancient sudoku book, I am definitely not a time traveller).

Downside of this approach is the complexity. Each piece will have to sit perfectly in position, which means each piece will have to be 100% custom made and perfectly mirrored. There's also issues with the plates wearing against each other, the overlap points being particularly uncomfortable, and the plates jutting out.

Upsides of this approach is the customizability and testability. The most important point will be making the connection points between the shells, however once those are created making new plates, adjusting pre-existing plates, and more will be far easier. Additionally it'll be easier to test the plating system because I'll be able to adjust it and create new plates based on data collected.

I'll have another post explaining the plate system more later. That post will go into my ideas for material choices, which will be interesting <- lots of experiment and research.

The second base structure Idea I have is created a shaped (but still flexible) one piece structure. It would be formed out of small hexagons (similar to a beehive construct). Most similar to commercial back pieces, I believe that the beehive structure would allow for a durable material that can also take some flex and bend.

Downside of this approach is actually creating it. In a perfect world I'd have a 3D printer or a full on lap and materials that I could make a mathematically perfect mould for this, however that's not the case. Any changes in angles between the hexagonal pieces will take re-creating those pieces and possibly any they connect to, as well as many edge pieces. There's also the size factor for the individual hexagons, and how that would impact the actual strength of the project.

Upside of this approach is how solid it would be. Because it wouldn't rely on connection points (the entire piece would be connected to itself, so to speak) it would lose many of the weak spots that the plate system has. It also wouldn't have the overlap issue.

I'll make another post covering my thought process on the materials to use for this project, and soon I'll post an update on my physical progress. Thank you for reading.

[oleander-nin]

The Coldest Heart(Yandere Future Rise Donatello x Reader)

A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Apocalypse, kidnapping, freezing, dark themes, yandere themes.

Words: 1291

Summary: Donnie cuts off the heat

Winters were always frigid in the apocalypse, the broken terrain and weather making the places that have never seen a snowflake now completely frozen over. The “snow” that covered the barren wasteland outside the base’s doors was a poisonous brown, bubbling when it touched the ground instead of sticking. It may be frozen, but it was nothing like the fluffy white snow you held dear in your memories. You shiver under the blankets you were given, your body curled up in a weak attempt to preserve the heat trapped under the blankets with you. You were exhausted, sleep pulling at your eyes and trying to coax you under, but the cold biting at your fingers and toes was unrelenting. Your ears and nose burned, keeping you alert as you try to keep out the frigid air. The small amount of heat Donnie allowed in his lab was gone, the furnace broken and vents turned off. Cold had seeped into every crack and was now trying its best to choke you out as well.

You turn your head towards Donnie as he types onto a monitor projected by his ninpo, sticking your face into the bitter cold. His outfit amazed you, the mutant only being dressed in a thin sweater made to stretch over his battle shell and sweats that were a size too small. You look at him in envy, not understanding how he could withstand the freezing temperature in the thin clothing he had. Donnie turns his head at the feeling of your boring gaze, his eyes meeting yours and his tridactyl hands leaving his keyboard which causes it to falter, then disappear. For the first time in the months since he had stuck you in his lab in claims of protecting you, you don’t break your gaze. Whether it was from exhaustion or the cold, you no longer cared about such a simple thing as keeping your eyes off the man you hated most. If he was truly upset with your staring, he could come and close your eyes himself.

“You’re shivering.” Donnie muses, his voice teasing and airy as if the frostbite creeping over your nose was a mere tasteless joke. You scowl, burying yourself back into the plethora of blankets that covered the cot Donnie had you share with him. You hear him chuckle at your childish display, driving in the belittled feeling he had sunk into your heart.

“Fix the heat then.” You grumble at your captor, not caring for niceties. You can hear his chair shift and you look back at him through a crack in the blankets, seeing his eyes averted downwards as he chews on his cheek. His knuckles are now digging into his teeth, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he seems to be debating himself over something. His shoulders are more hunched, like he was a little kid who got caught stealing cookies late at night.

“You know I can’t.” Donnie says, like he was trying to be firm but his voice falters. He still refuses to meet your eyes, only staring at the floor as he chews on his knuckles. Your eyes narrow, your knees pulled closer to your chest as another cold burst breaks through the blanket barrier.

“You’ve already fixed it.” You accuse, the chattering of your teeth breaking up the sentence and making it sound more pathetic than you hoped. Donnie finally pulls his fist away from his mouth as he stares back at you, crossing his arms and protesting with a loud, “indignant scoff.” If you could feel your feet, you would run over there and strangle him.

“If you’re cold,” Donnie starts, his voice tight as he dodges your accusation to try and quell your thoughts, but ends up confirming it instead. “You can grab a blanket and come sit with me. I’ll keep you warm.”

You sneer, diving back under the blanket den you had created around yourself. Even if you wanted to cuddle up to the person who was holding you hostage in the name of ‘safety’, you couldn’t. Your feet were so frozen you couldn’t feel them more than a dull pain, and your fingers couldn’t close around the thin material of the blankets anymore. Silence stretches through the lab, and you’re sure Donnie had given up and turned back around.

A quick padding of socked feet breaks the silence and two arms wrap around your covered self, lifting you from the cot and into Donnie’s arms. He mumbles a swift apology as you flail and curse, quickly moving back to his chair and depositing you in his lap. He shifts the blankets around, helping you pop your head out so you could see. Donnie cups your cheek with one hand, the other still firm around your lower back so you couldn’t squirm away from him and escape. The feeling of his hand on your face is one you always hated, but the burning head of his warmth makes you hiss in pain rather than disgust. He was an oven, his hand slowly heating your cheeks and bringing color back to your face. You melt into him after a minute, nearly crying when his warm hand leaves your cheek to cup your ears.

“You are cold.” He mutters, mostly to himself. He continues to try and warm you himself for a small while, attempting to bring your body temperature up from the dangerous levels it had fallen to. He eventually signs and gives up, summoning a projected screen with numerous switches and buttons. He clicks a few things before closing the screen and pulling you closer, easing open the blankets you clung to so he could pull your whole body against him and try to warm you up.

You hear the vents above slowly whirr to life, the room slowly being filled with a strong heat that makes your head spin. You blink at Donnie, your limbs unstiffening as you try not to cry.

“You fixed it…” You mumble, letting your head hit the dull point of his plastron. Donnie nods, rubbing your back beneath the blankets. Anger pools in your chest for only a moment, the relief of the heat taking over and the exhaustion pushing through once more.

“I fixed it within minutes of its breaking. I wasn’t going to let the base freeze.” Donnie pulls you closer, kissing your temple with a smug smile. “You, however, weren’t letting me touch you, so I turned off the heat to try and convince you to let me touch you more, but that seems to have backfired.”

You scowl, hitting his shoulder with your forehead. You wanted to scream, to bite him, to do anything to make him suffer like he had you for the past few days, but you don’t. You were terrified he would turn the heat back off. His lab was obviously able to be isolated from the other parts of the base, which horrified you. For all you knew, he could leave and seal the doors before shutting the oxygen off for a couple minutes, just to let you suffer.

Donnie continues to rub your back, his quiet humming not showing any bit of remorse for the torment he had put you through. He seemed happy with the outcome, and you figured he was. Here you were in his arms, just as he wanted. Maybe once you could feel your fingers again, you’d try and fight him, but for now, you had given up. The heat was too much of a reward for you to risk losing it now. Even Donnie’s arms were a price you were willing to pay to not freeze. His plan had worked, and now nothing would stop him from doing it again.