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sirthisisa-wendys · 2 years ago

Note

I’m the one who asked about the flashback for Ran! Just sending it back as you asked :) I’m so excited to see what you came up with, I was racking my brain for something and I couldn’t come up with an exact scenario. I just love the way you write his raw emotions and how much he loves the reader, and is tortured by what happened to her, and them suffering through the aftermath even though Mikey’s gone.

I actually found a plot point I missed when reviewing the old parts of the story! FLASHBACK FLASH BACK (you'll get another "flashback" after this one that rounds them out. I'm taking this concept and running with it.)

Hand Her Over (Part 7 - A FLASHBACK): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: calculating...

tw: flashback, angst, drinking

masterlis

Hand Her Over Megapost

The cap to the wine bottle comes undone with a loud pop. Ran tilts the glass just so, intent on catching every single drop left in the almost empty bottle. He's not sure when he started drinking again, but on nights like these, he doesn't give a shit.

No, he knows when he started drinking again. He remembers the exact moment the bottle reappeared in the fridge. That morning, he found you standing in the front yard, letting the freezing breeze and snow into the foyer.

"Sleepwalking," Ran had said at the time, excusing your behavior as a machination of your nightmares. He wasn't sure how long you'd been out there or how many times you'd done something like this. But it startled the shit out of him so bad he had to drink to ease his nerves.

Ran waits for some semblance of the dulling effect to take over. He needed to forget how you stood there, feet covered in snow, cheeks flushed bright red, and shivering. You'd been so cold and--

Ran's grip on the bottle falters. He watches in slow motion as the bottle crashes to the floor, resulting in shards of glass skittering about the wine-slicked tile. Ran feels his head loll, and he stares at the mess, wondering how he'd pick it up now. His feet are bare, too.

You come ambling toward the kitchen moments later, your eyes taking in the scene with alarm. But you don't say anything. Well, save a soft "ow".

"Shit," Ran bites out, finally reacting to the scene, spurred into action due to your injury.

And that's how things started, isn't it?

He knew Mikey was no good. He knew things had gone too far. He knew... he fucking knew and yet... He hadn't done shit about it until you'd gotten hurt.

"Piece of glass in your foot?" Ran wonders, still stuck to his stance in the middle of it. You nod. Ran picks his way around the mess, narrowly avoiding a shard himself, and scoops you into his arms. His senses are slowly dulling, but he had enough time to get you some help before he crashed.

The trip to the bedroom is short, and Ran sits you on the bed, whispering, "Don't move." You don't, and he pads toward the bathroom where the first aid kit awaits him. As he rifles through the box, memories come back to him of you doing the same thing: patching up his scrapes, putting ice packs on his bruises, disinfecting the scabs and gross knife cuts...

When had he ever done that for you?

Never.

He reappears with tweezers and a few large band aids, placing them on the floor before sitting down. He spots the offender almost instantly, though it's not large. Ran takes the tweezers and gently pulls the shard free without much difficulty. You whimper in pain, but it's momentary. Fingers work at patching your wound up with two band-aids and then Ran pats your leg with as much affection as he can muster.

"All better." The statement is punctuated with a gentle kiss against your ankle, and when he rises, he sees the fat tears that have rolled down your face. You wipe them away just as Ran feels the effects of the wine take hold. Things are a little hazy, but he has just enough strength to put you back in bed comfortably.

"I'm going to pay for this for the rest of my life, aren't I?" he whispers to no one, his mind rolling with scenarios as he stumbles into the recliner nearby.

The world is swimming but Ran grips the edges of the recliner before easing himself into it while gritting his teeth. All of his life he'd been the one to watch as someone else handled the messes, handled the delinquents, handled the repercussions of his own actions. Hell, until he raised his gun and fired six bullets into Mikey's chest, he hadn't handled shit for himself. Not really.

Bonten's undoing came as quickly as Ran had told Mikey to fuck himself, to which Mikey's haunted face replied, "You wife would know something about that, wouldn't she?"

The squeezing in Ran's chest started just as soon as he pulled the trigger, clickclickclickclick-ing until the gun itself was empty, and then some more for good measure. By the time Rindou had found him slumped against the desk beside a very dead Mikey, Ran had fired seven blanks and sixteen shots.

Money had changed hands, faces disappeared, people forgot who they were and where they lived and who Ran was, the news ran only one cycle talking about Mikey's death. The rest had been lost to time. And yet, here he is, sitting and stuck in that same spiral he'd allowed himself to get stuck in.

All for you.

Ran's eyes slide to his prize, your face turned towards him and eyes blinking in the dim light of the bedroom. "Hey," he whispers softly, trying for a gentle smile. "I'm alright. Get some sleep." You continue to stare at him and Ran knows instinctively that he's drunker than he ought to be.

"I'll get off the bottle soon," he murmurs, looking away in shame. "Promise."

You turn over to the other side and sigh but Ran can't bring himself to promise you anything else. He'd already brought so much pain into your life, and here he was, doing it again.

The image of you standing in front yard catches him off guard again. Maybe you were trying to get away from him. You'd walked so far--

Ran looks back over at you and feels the black hole in his chest yawn. It stings. The thought of you trying to escape from him burns like hell and he can't--

Ran stifles a gasp for air.

He can't bear the thought of you trying to leave. You had every right - you really did - to run away and find someone who would make you happy. He wouldn't blame you if you did want a divorce and wanted to leave his name. He killed for you, but that meant nothing in the face of your happiness.

It meant--

Ran's mind slips.

He'd count it all up to his payment for so many years of shit and terror and chaos. Surely--

The black hole opens a little wider and the world tilts.

You would be happy.

Ran grips the chair with both of his arms, hearing Mikey's voice in his ears.

"But you don't really love her, do you?"

I do, he wants to shout back at the ghost, challenging it.

The wine... it's the wine that's addling his mind. He's not normally like this - not so insecure, not so needy, but--

She'd be better off without you.

Ran jolts up and hurries out of the bedroom, running his hands through his hair and feeling the panic rush through his veins. There's only one way, one way to alleviate this.

This crushing guilt, the shame, the damn agony he feels at having to do all of this over and over and over again. Reliving his worst nightmare is like driving a stake through his skull, and he can't fucking take it anymore.

The front door swings wide and Ran bursts through it, his body propelling him to run. The urge rages through him, and his breath comes out in bursts of white air. If he had asthma like Rindou, he'd already be winded, but he's got tears freezing against his cheeks, the wind biting at his skin, and--

Ran comes to a stop at the end of the street.

What the hell is he doing?

He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and sees himself through his neighbor's eyes. Here is Ran Haitani, in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, running in the dead of winter with no shoes on. And he laughs.

Ran laughs and laughs and laughs.

He laughs so hard he has to sit down in the snow and hold his sides like a maniac.

Suddenly, he understands Sanzu. He understands the way he copes with things. He can't run; not now. Not when you're at home, needing protection. Ran ambles back up the driveway, still chuckling to himself out of disappointment more than humor.

He couldn't even outrun his own problems. A shame, he thinks, shutting the front door and latching it. What a shame I've turned out to be.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader

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illunicae · 11 months ago

Text

You Can See the Stars

I've wanted to do a part two to When the Lights Go out since I first published it and I finally got around to it. Obviously this will have so much angst, but there is a little fluff mixed in there at the end. Also I might do more stories sent in this timeline so I'm calling the collection There's Always More to Lose. (Also found on Ao3)

Pairing: Rise Donatello x Female Reader

TWs: Semi-graphic description of wounds, Character death, The Kraang apocalypse, Mentions of past character deaths, Blood and injury, Death

The days passing were a hellish blur. You never left your room: there was nothing for you out there. You hardly ate: the soup Mikey had brought you earlier sat abandoned on your bedside table. Your skin was dull: you were withering away. Your eyes never shown with that once familiar youthful spark: what light is left in your life? Tear tracks were a permanent feature on your cheeks, even after your tears stopped falling.

The photo clutched in your hands made your heart twist in a devastating way, yet you couldn’t look away. You were frozen. The picture wasn’t that old, only taken a year ago by a stealthy Michelangelo determined to document the fleeting moments of peace in this world.

A young Lenore sat on her father’s shoulders, the brightest grin on her face as she waved to her mother. Her mother was sporting her own carefree grin as she looked up at her daughter. One of Donnie’s hands was wrapped around Lenore’s ankle to keep her balanced while atop his shoulders; the other was extended toward his wife, where she grasped it in her own hand. The glow of pure admiration in his eyes as he looked at his wife went unnoticed by her in the moment.

The scene was pulled slowly from your hands and you're brought back to your desolate bedroom. Only this time you're not alone. Your eyes rose to meet Leo’s worried gaze. In his large hand he held the photo like a delicate flower petal, his gaze only flickered to it momentarily and his heart broke more.

Leo and Mikey were extremely worried for you, hell the whole resistance was worried for their commander. The blue branded leader understood your grief, but only to a limited extent. When they lost Donnie, he was there with you while you grieved for a husband and he for a brother. But now you lost a daughter, a child. He knew he could never truly grasp a mother’s grief. Leo wanted to fix things. He wanted to take away your pain, your grief.

He wanted to carry it for you, but that was an impossibility. All he could do was make sure you didn’t fall apart.

The bed dipped as he sat next to you. You hardly moved. Leo thumbed the delicate photo before he sighed.

“You need to eat.” When he didn’t get any indication of a response he continued. “I know it’s hard. I’m not going to sit here and say I understand, because I don’t. I could never understand the type of grief that hurts you. But I do know that neither of them would want you to waste away like this. Hidden from the people who are here to help. So please, (Y/n). Eat something, just a single spoonful.” Leo’s voice trailed off, a slight desperate edge to it as he gestured to the warm bowl of soup Mikey brought in, though you never noticed.

You shakily exhaled. Your stomach twisted into an ugly knot both repulsed by the idea of food and craving it. How long had it been since you ate?

Eyes unseeing, you looked at the bowl.

“Just one bite, for her.” Leo spoke, softly urging you to take it.

Shaking hands reached for the bowl. Leo felt relief wash over him as you brought it back to your lap and lifted the spoon with a shuddering hand. Your lips touched the edge of the spoon and the small amount of soup disappeared. Once again you exhaled shakily.

“Thank you.” Leo whispered with relief. It was a start, so he let you return the bowl to your bedside table. He wasn’t going to let his best friend fall apart.

“Leo.” Your voice was scratchy from disuse, raw from nights of long sobbing, and soft from fear of disrupting the small bout of silence. Leo almost didn’t hear it. He wouldn’t have if he wasn’t paying such close attention to you.

“I’m here, (Y/n).” He looked at the side of your face as you were still facing the far wall, not looking at anything in particular.

Tears you thought had long since dried up began bubbling at the lip of your lids. “I failed.” You uttered, soft, raw, and scratchy.

“What?” Leo held the photo a little tighter.

“I failed!” A gasp burst from your lungs as a few tears rolled down your cheek. You turned to look Leo in the eye and he could see the pain, despair, and grief swirling around. “I promised him I’d protect her. I promised HIM!” You sobbed.

Leo understood then.

He had made a similar promise.

Your body shook with forceful sobs as you fell forward. Leo lurched to catch you. Your head hit against his plastron, but you didn’t seem to care. His arms came up to wrap around you as you cried.

“She was supposed to be safe with me. I was supposed to keep her safe.” Tears poured more freely down your cheeks as you repeated your phrases and sobbed. Leo held still, offering himself up for whatever comfort he could provide. His flesh hand rubbed circles onto your back as your tears wet his chest.

“It’s not your fault.” He whispered. “You did what you could.”

You pulled away enough to look him in the eyes but not leave the embrace. You shook your head. Leo cupped your cheek with his hand and wiped a tear with his thumb. You grabbed his wrist with one of your hands, the other rested atop the photo Leo was still holding.

“Who am I if I couldn’t protect her?”

✧*

The pair of you had stayed like that long into the night. Leo didn’t want to leave you alone, and you didn’t have the strength to insist you wanted solitude. When you finally decided to leave your room, Leo helped you when your legs refused to hold your weight.

“One step.” Leo had instructed softly. “Take it one step at a time.”

You sighed and after a moment you were able to walk on your own, but Leo still kept close to your side as you wandered out into the hall. The few resistant members you passed whispered to each other, but you didn’t hear it. You didn’t want to hear it. You had seen it all before, when you lost Donnie and everyone treated you like you were delicate glassware. You supposed you looked even more fragile now without your little light by your side.

Few of the members held a bit of hope in their eyes seeing you up and about again. They didn’t say anything, but their silence spoke plenty. You didn’t spare anyone a glance, you were determined to get to the mess hall where Leo insisted he get you some proper, warm food.

Unfortunately your path took you past the memory wall.

Seeing it out of the corner of you eye, you froze. Leo stiffened beside you. He knew they had put up new photos for everyone they lost in the battle four days prior. He could see the photo they put up for Lenore from where he stood in the hall.

You were looking into the room, your eyes unfocused.

“You don’t have to go in there. Don’t force yourself. We can just walk away.” Leo reassured with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You took a deep breath and stepped toward the wall; you had to face the wall at one point or another, you couldn’t hide from it forever. And while Leo had said not to push yourself, something was calling you. There would never be closure, not truly, but you had to start somewhere.

You’ll start with the photos on the wall.

Leo trailed after you slightly worried, but he did not stop you.

Looming ominously, lit up with a dozen candles, the wall towered over your form. It seemed to stretch on for miles, but you knew that was impossible, deep down you still had hope to believe you hadn’t lost enough people to fill miles of walls with photos though your grief surely felt limitless.

It’s a well worn arc, your eyes drift across the wall. You looked at it countless of times. Your eyes first landed on the pair of expertly crafted sais to your right perched on a small shelf with a red ribbon and four candles. Your gaze traveled up the wall slightly to the various photos pined. Raph was smiling brightly in the first pic, his grin sharp and his eyes warm: he’s younger there, not as worn down with scars and still filled with inextinguishable hope. The next photo was of Casey: in typical Jones fashion, her grin was a little crazed as she wielded a titanium hockey stick high above her head. A second, smaller picture was pinned right under it of a tired Casey holding a small bundle in her hands. You couldn’t look at that photo for long and quickly avert your gaze to a very familiar object.

The violet battleshell was hung up on the wall, unused.

Breath catching in your lungs like every time, you could only stare at the shell. Sometimes your fingertips would brush the smooth surface, but this hour your hand was heavy at your side. You could still feel the heavy clasps on your shoulders, a phantom weight that followed you constantly. Tensing your shoulders got rid of the feeling momentarily as you moved your gaze on. You could feel the sting as you looked at the photo of Donnie, he’s half asleep with a makeshift mug in his hand, maybe there’s coffee in the mug, you don’t actually remember. Coffee was a delicacy in the resistance.

The next few photos are new.

Pain pricked your eyes. You brought yourself there, you had to look. A soft exhale passed your lips as you lifted your gaze to look at the new photos. The first photo nearly pushed the tears over the lids of your eyes. Lenore bore a bright smile while sat at the edge of a roof. The desolate landscape stretched behind her, you could almost make out what remained of central park: a sad sight really, but the way the sun was setting made it glow almost ethereally and Lenore herself was haloed with golden light. She was so happy in that photo, almost carefree.

What life would she have had? In a world not ruled by grief and terror, would she have gone to school? Make lots of friends? Sneak out of the house to go to parties?

You blinked, there was no use worrying about questions with no answers. Twisting painfully, your heart thudded against your ribs as you saw the next photo, smaller than the first and nestled next to the battle shell.

Lenore wore a lab coat, like her father. Both had goggles perched on their heads as they leaned over a piece of tech. Not just any tech, a battle shell–to fit a smaller shell, to fit Lenore. Lenore was biting her lip excitedly as she helped move tech into place. A proud smirk rested on Donnie’s lips as he watched his daughter work. Neither seemed to notice the camera. The photo was taken only a day before Donnie’s death. It’s the last photo you have of the two of them together.

A tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at that photo, you hadn’t even realized you were crying again.

They never finished the battle shell.

A strangled gasp broke the silence as you could do nothing more than stare. Leo’s warm hand came down to rest on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there. You leaned into the small bit of comfort.

“How am I supposed to go on?” You asked, your voice soft and distant and broken.

Leo swallowed, “You take the future one day at a time. One hour, one second if you need to. You keep moving forward, one step at a time. And know that everyone here will help you.”

✧*

You were in the lab. It wasn’t the first time you'd been in there and you hoped it won’t be the last. You had spent a lot of time in here after the death of Donnie, but you kept moving forward, for your daughter. Now you sat alone in the dim lab.

The unfinished battle shell still laid out on the table where Donnie and Lenore where once working on it. Lenore couldn’t stand the thought of finishing it without her father, even if it meant she would have been still standing here next to you. A thin layer of dust had collected on the tools left exactly where the pair had put them down when you had come to fetch them for dinner. None of you knew in that moment that it would be the last night you spent as a whole family.

If you looked hard enough you could still see your husband and daughter sitting around the table, muttering technical terms back and forth.

Your thumb brushed over the cold metal, clearing some dust from the small engraved logo on the shoulder of the small battle shell. It’s been about a year since you lost Lenore, and a little over since you lost Donnie. Four short months was all it took for you to lose both the love of your life and your precious little light.

“For you, my little light.” You mumbled softly. You looked around at the various screens and tech piled in the lab. “For you, my love.” Squaring your shoulders, you turned and left the lab, pausing briefly at the doorway to look over the empty space.

Taking a deep breath you turned, letting the doors close and lock behind you. You'll be back. That’s what you kept telling yourself, but deep down you knew. Tomorrow is your last stand against the Kraang.

You’ll either win or lose.

You don’t believe you’ll return to that lab again, but you’ll go into battle with determination. You will give it everything. If that’s not enough, then you'll see your husband and daughter again.

Muscle memory brought you to the rooftop exit of the base. It’s not a very tall building you've holed up in, but the roof still provided a half decent view. You didn’t care much for the horizon though, your eyes were always on the sky. Looking for the stars you so loved.

But the world was too broken. The stars were hidden away. Though some nights when you couldn’t sleep or the eve of battle, you liked to pretend that you could still see them when you sat up there on the roof of the base. Usually you sat alone, wishing for something different: for a world not torn apart by a war, a world where your daughter could just be a kid, a world free from this pain.

On a rare few occasions, Donnie would join you and you'd lay on your backs just staring at the red sky trying to catch a glimpse of the beauty beyond. Your hands would interlock and you would think back to that night you first showed Donnie the stars.

You were 14. You were young and the world hadn’t been destroyed yet. You both had no idea what was waiting for you in the future, but it didn’t matter because all you cared about was there and then. You didn’t even know how much you mattered to each other yet. Your hands sat only an inch apart as you laid on your backs staring at the sky. Both of you wanted to slide your hand across to bridge the gap. Both of you were too afraid to do it. How little this moment would matter in the coming future. How many times you would return to this night.

You exhaled softly, you mind peaceful as you admired the sky above you. The glittering stars illuminating the field you found yourselves in. The city noise was only a distant hum.

“You know why I like it out here?” You asked softly. Donnie hummed and turned his head to glance at you. You were still watching the sky and he could see the stars reflected in your eyes. He could see your smile as you explained. “When all the lights go out you can see the stars.”

✧*

“Commander (Y/n), you’re hurt!” CJ shouted worriedly.

The slash across your shoulder and above your heart throbbed painfully. Blood was gushing from the wound, staining your cloak a dark maroon color. You waved the boy off. “I’ll be okay.”

You weren’t sure how much of that was the truth. You and Leo shared glances, and you took notice of the blood pouring through the fingers of his prosthetic from a wound in his side.

The howl of a kraang hound broke the two of you from your small stare off. You reacted quickest and sliced the hound deep with your sword, leaving the beast as a twitching pile of gore at your feet.

“Come on. We gotta move.” Leo instructed, and you all began sprinting up the hill.

Leo stumbled, but CJ was right there to throw an arm over his shoulder and help Leo. You kept your palm on your own wound as you kept pace with the boys.

All around them death and destruction ruled. You tried to keep focus as you sprinted. Briefly your mind wondered where April ended up. Oh you hoped she’s okay. Your head spun, the blood from your shoulder seemed like a river. Stay awake. Stay awake.

You made it to the top of the hill. But you were far from done. You stumbled as did Leo and CJ in front of you. You could hear the kraang hounds behind you all. You all flinched, bracing for pain that never came, instead a familiar voice shouted.

“Bad doggies!” With relief you looked and saw familiar glowing golden chains protecting you all.

“Impecable timing little brother. Very dramatic.” Leo appraised. You could only dryly chuckle in relief as you let your head fall back against the red dirt ground.

A few feet away the boys were talking, but you couldn’t hear any of it over the sound of ringing in your head. Until Leo uttered the words you grew to fear: “That’s it. The Kraang won. The resistance failed.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. So that's it? Was it all for nothing?

You whimpered in pain as you sat up, across the way you made eye contact with Leo. The two of you seemed to speak with only your eyes. There was still a dim glimmer of hope. An impossibility really. One final shot.

When he spoke up there was resolution in his voice. “It isn’t over. We still have a ninja’s greatest weapon: hope.” Leo turned toward his younger brother. A smile on his face despite the circumstances. “That and a badass mystic warrior. Mikey we need a time gateway.” Leo requested, falling serious and somber once again.

Mikey’s eyes widened slightly at the request. “It’ll take everything I have.”

“I know, but this is our last chance. It’s our only chance.” Leo stated. You three adults all shared glances, each weighing the request in your own minds.

Mikey didn’t ponder the request for long before he nodded with determination and flew over toward an open spot to summon the gateway.

“Wait, what’s going on? Where’s he going?” Casey asked as you all watched Mikey.

“CJ you have to listen to us.” You said as you rose to kneel next to CJ and Leo. “The Kraang first came to our planet through a mystic doorway.” You explained.

Leo placed the picture of his family he was looking at earlier face-down on the ground and picked up a charred stone. “The key to open the doorway looked like this.” Leo sketched the image on the picture before picking it up and handing it to CJ.

“Why are you telling me this?” CJ asked, a worried edge cutting his voice.

“Because Mikey’s about to send you back in time to the day that the key was stolen.” Leo stated.

“Wait, he’s gonna what!?” Casey exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes were wide with thought of the impossibility.

You placed your non-bloodied hand on CJ’s shoulder, he’s young and this is a lot to put on the shoulders of someone his age, but it’s your only shot of giving another timeline a chance. “The people who stole the Key opened the doorway for the Kraang. You have to find it before that happens.” You said softly, that day all those years ago flashing memories in your mind.

“Find the Key. Stop the Kraang.” Leo’s voice was stern as he looked at the young teen.

CJ pocketed the picture with a frown, “But sensei–”

Leo cut the boy off with a hand to CJ’s shoulder. “Say it!”

“Find the key.” CJ repeated solemnly. “Stop the Kraang.” Both of you gave the boy a soft smile as you leaned back. CJ looked to be on the verge of tears as he looked between the two of you. CJ clutched the wrist of Leo’s prosthetic arm desperately. “I don’t want to lose you.” He mumbled.

With a soft sigh, Leo shook his head, “Casey, it’s not about me–”

The sentiment was cut off as a bright red light flashed down upon you like a spotlight from hell. Three large Kraang mechs loomed over you injured rebels. CJ jumped to his feet, revving his chainsaw hockey stick. You and Leo followed suit, but at a slower pace due to your wounds.

“They found us!” CJ shouted as he got ready to fight off the army. You could feel your heart shattering. You were out of options.

Another light shone down on you from a mech crawling over the mountain of debris you were just using as cover. You were surrounded. This wasn’t a fight you could win. Realizing this Leo looked toward his brother, “Mikey.”

The situation was daunting, Mikey only spared a glance at his arms cracking apart with golden light. With a shout, he willed more power to the portal.

Noticing what was happening, CJ shouted. “Master Michelangelo, no! You're gonna—” He reached his hand out as Mikey glanced over his shoulder. Mikey winked with a smile before throwing the last of his strength into the gateway. The light was blinding. Your heart ached for you friend who was there one moment and gone the next in an explosion of brilliant golden flakes. The specks of light drifted past you remaining as you all stared in varying levels of grief.

Stark against the desolate landscape, a golden mystic portal beckoned you closer. It flashed and pulsed with Mikey’s magic. You took a deep breath. This was it.

“When you’re done saving the world, do us a favor.” Leo set a heavy hand on CJ’s shoulder. “Grab a slice!” He shouted and threw the teen toward the portal. CJ stared wide eyed as he watched the two of you get farther from him. You and Leo offered one last reassuring smile before turning your backs to the portal.

“For them.” Leo stated with a tight grip on his sword.

“For all of them.” You repeated and you two dashed in opposite directions to protect the portal so no Kraang followed CJ to the past. Your wound screamed at you, blood pouring free of obstruction. But you didn’t back down. This world may be done for, but thanks to CJ another timeline may have a shot.

You choked on air as something slammed into your back. Leo had looked over with wide eyes full of horror and grief. Glancing down revealed the sharp claws of a kraang mech jutting from your stomach. You tried to take a breath but couldn’t. You couldn’t feel the scream that ripped from your throat as the kraang threw you across the battle field, blood spilling in an arc following your trajectory.

When you finally stopped rolling, you looked up just in time to see the portal blink closed. You did it.

Your eyes locked with Leo’s before a blinding red light descended on both of you. You expected pain, but there was nothing. When you opened your eyes you felt nothing. Your body didn’t feel heavy.

You could rest now.

You looked up at the sky. You laughed without breath as you took in the beautiful sight. The battle field fell away, replaced with ribbons of color dancing and weaving through the sky. You sat in a thin layer of water. Was this the after life? It didn’t matter.

“Mama!” A familiar voice shouted.

Your eyes flew wide as you turned to look, standing there was Lenore. She was glowing as she smiled, actually glowing as her ninpo surrounded her like a thin aura. You immediately jumped to your feet and ran toward your daughter. Lenore giggled excitedly as she too sprinted toward you, water splashing with each step she took.

The two of you collided roughly, but there was no pain, only relief and you hugged your daughter tightly. “My little light. My lovely Lenore.” You murmured as you cried and held your daughter close.

“I’m here mama. I’m here.” Lenore hugged back just as tightly.

You sobbed with relief as you couldn’t say anything more than a few inaudible murmurs. Lenore was the first to pull away, much to your dislike, but when Lenore gestured to the figure standing nearby your heart leapt into your throat.

“Don?” Your voice whispered.

He smirked, a familiar sight. “Hello, love.”

You ran to him, heart soaring. He caught you as you leapt through the air. His arms caged you to his chest as he spun you around. “I love you.” You sobbed into his shoulder as you stopped and just stood in your embrace.

“I love you to darling.” He responds, running a hand up and down your back in a soothing manor.

You peeked to the side and pulled away just enough to reach your arm out and pull Lenore into the hug as well. “I missed you. I missed you both so much.” You said as you held your family close.

“We missed you too mama.” Lenore squeezed both you tightly.

“We’ll never have to be apart now.” Donnie stated as he pulled away slightly to cup your cheek and wipe away your tears. Lenore removed herself from the hug to smile at you both before rushing over to greet her uncles. You stayed glued to Donnie’s side as you saw Leo and Mikey surrounded by Raph, Splinter, April, and Casey.

With a soft grin on your face, you looked back at your husband. He was already staring at you with a look full of admiration. His thumb rubbed idly across your cheek as he smiled.

“You know why I like it here?” Donnie asked softly. You raised a brow in question. He just grinned. “When the lights goes out,” the dancing lights faded from the sky as Donnie lifted your chin slowly to get you to look at the sky. Your eyes widened as the lights were replaced by thousands of stars all glittering and twinkling. “You can see the stars.”

#There's always more to lose #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #my writing #rottmnt angst #x reader #reader insert #rottmnt oc

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ashlingiswriting · 2 years ago

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do i know you? chapter four

[ 5k words ] [ prev chapters: one, two, three ] [ masterlist ] "he's actually asking you the question—you, of all people. it’s so funny, it could break your heart." richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn warning: vague conversation about assault (no actual assault happened against any canon character), organized crime activities, mild claustrophobia

when you push open the door, you expect to find richie tucked away safe from the harsh wind, leaning against the wall in his usual spot. instead, he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of your building, his ass on the curb and his feet on the asphalt, like he’s daring the cars to run over his toes. he doesn’t look like he’s waiting for somebody, he looks abandoned.

you tuck away your latest story—egyptian history is clearly not meant for tonight—and walk over to him. what’s up?

he says nothing.

all right, then. you sigh and you drop into a squat beside him, both feet flat, knees under your upper arms, and arms loosely crossed.

i can do this all night, you say.

his eyes don’t so much as flicker. his big black leather jacket has always looked ridiculous, oversized, like he’s playing dress up in his dad’s clothes, but there’s a touch of pathos to the slouch of it now. there’s a weariness that has soaked into him because he’s been marinating in it over the months. there’s pain, too, so much that you can’t help but think of michael.

it’s eva, he finally says.

the richie bad news thing? you say. it’s a wild guess but better than nothing. you have to say something, anchor him before he drifts off again.

he shakes his head. she said this man at school, he, uh. he really freaked her out today. i don’t know.

your stomach drops. nausea sets in immediately, but you push past it. step one is to protect her, and everything else can be dealt with later. you’re horrified to discover that after all that painstaking care you spent making sure he’s never cross-contaminated with your business, now there’s no choice. now there’s a threat. whatever the cost of the method, the threat has to end.

uncrossing your arms, you reach out and put your hand on richie’s arm, grip him firm through the leather jacket, and look at him squarely.

he blinks, looks down at your hand—you’ve never touched him before—and then up at your face.

slow, steady, marshaling every word of your command to pierce through the fog he’s in, you say: don’t do anything. i know a guy.

at that, his eyes sharpen and narrow, baffled. what are you talking about? he says. ow, jesus.

you search his face hard and clutch his arm even harder, like you can wring the truth out of him by the strength of your fingers alone.

she’s okay? you say.

she’s okay.

oh. pause. when the relief hits, it hits so hard, it’s nearly grief and it’s far too late. your mouth has gone bitter and your heartbeat is like a jackhammer to cement, reverberating through your body loud and fast and unstoppable. you let go of him.

richie’s face wrinkles with confusion, and he figures it out entire minutes too late. why would you think—

because it’s always some dirty old man, there’s always—you have to stop. your voice has gone transparent and you’re helpless to fix it. swallowing hard doesn’t help. standing up so fast that you’re lightheaded, that helps a little, though you don’t like the useless swing of your arms at your sides.

finally, you manage to say, i’m not crazy, these things fucking happen.

these things happen, but eva’s okay. nothing’s happened to her. richie says it with a terrible gentleness you can imagine him bestowing on a car crash survivor or a starved stray dog. his hand closes over your ankle through your jeans, the touch a shockwave that goes right through you. hey, i’m sorry, he says.

between leftover nausea and fresh embarrassment, you can’t even look at him, so stare far over his head and say, don’t.

he lets go. you wish he didn’t.

after a while, he says, you’ve never even met her.

she’s yours, though.

and there it is. the truth. you don’t know when this happened, but somewhere along the way, your care has stopped being richie’s inheritance from michael. now you care simply because it’s richie. it’s a surprise to find that there is someone left alive you’d kill for, but it also feels completely natural. if you’re dropped in water, you will swim. if you’re hit, you’ll hit back. if eva ever does get in trouble, you’ll do what you have to do. and that’s it.

the thought becomes so real you could touch it like a photograph in your back pocket. there’s someone left that you’d kill for. good to know.

you turn away from him, using the wind as an excuse, sheltering your cigarette and lighting it up again. richie stays sitting right where he is, as though you haven’t confessed anything. there really is a merciful streak in him about five miles wide.

the nausea abates, after a little while. the thought occurs to you that you can’t just get lost in your head again. he’s still sitting there, he still needs you.

so what’d this guy say. you keep your voice as casual as you can. the man at the school. what freaked her out so bad?

never mind, richie says. it’s okay.

i swear to god, richie, after all that, you better tell me about it.

okay, he says, every bit as exhausted and miserable as before, but at least no longer fully bogged down in his own head. you wanna sit down?

no.

he nods. into the fraught silence, his words come slower now. he speaks like he’s groping in the dark for the shape of his thoughts, fitting his hand to each individual word, mindful of sharp edges.

a poet visited her school today. he’d written something for them about the class caterpillar that died last week. i don’t know whose genius idea that was, but anyway. he pauses. now she’s asking me about things dying. people dying, you know. her mom. me.

after a second, you say, fucking poets, with real sympathy.

he nods wearily. somebody shot at the beef today too. we’re fine, nobody got hurt, it’s nothing, it’s. he rubs his forehead with his hand. it was a nice poem.

yeah? you say.

whole city’s just fucking…

he gestures once, gives up, and lets his hand dangle from his knee.

after a second, you sit down next to him, cross-legged and companionable.

what was it like? you say. the poem.

i can’t remember the words, he says. the general idea was, like. all a caterpillar needs to do is be what it is. eat everything, dream of flying. that’s what it’s meant to do. he looks over. you know what we’re meant to do?

he's actually asking you the question—you, of all people. it’s so funny, it could break your heart. you shake your head.

me neither. when he looks back out at the street, his eyes rest on the shadows in a way that makes the shadows seem that much more desolate. i mean, i’ve done things, but not. he doesn’t finish the thought aloud.

finally, he says, what would a poet even do with me?

a dark suspicion tries to grab onto, but it’s so ludicrous and so extreme that you bat it away. you just made the mistake of falling prey to a baseless, sick fear once. twice in one night, that’s too much.

what would a poet do with either of us? you say. but you’re not gonna die.

i might.

the worst thing about it is how quiet richie says it. it's not an argument. it's just a fact.

you’re not, you say fiercely.

richie turns his head and looks at you, his blue eyes fraught and unwavering.

how do you know?

ping!

fuck. your phone shouldn’t go off now, of all times. you haven’t had to deal with so much as a simple flesh wound since little caruso got shipped to the hospital, and now is the moment you get called in? if you ignore this text while you’re supposed to be on call, you could get fired or worse.

you ignore the text. back to the question: how do you know richie’s not gonna die? because he can’t. because you won’t allow it.

you say, if you’re not around, who’s gonna explain to your daughter that poets are all a bunch of shitheads?

ping! ping! ping!

fuck me, you mutter, putting your phone on vibrate.

it’s all right, never mind, richie says. he looks faintly sick, or maybe that’s just the cold and the time of night.

it’s not all right, but you open your phone anyway. as you start reading the texts, your heart rate goes into overdrive and the eerie calm of crisis descends on you.

i’m sorry, you say, meaning it. i’m really sorry. but you gotta get out of here.

as if to drive home your point, your phone vibrates in your hand with two more texts.

at first richie doesn’t move, and you’re afraid he’ll argue, or protest, or do anything that will force your hand to choose cruelty so you can get rid of him fast. but instead, he finally hauls himself to his feet.

you know a guy, huh, he says.

you don’t want to acknowledge the insinuation with any kind of an answer, which as it turns out is a mistake.

it’s all right, he says. i’m kind of a diy guy myself.

you look up. don’t be.

the wind is tearing at your hair, and at that angle, in shadow, his eyes look unusually dark, not one hint of blue.

i can’t track the fucking joke with you sometimes, richie says.

i’m not joking.

your phone vibrates once again.

fuck. you have no choice. you stand up, look at him as kindly as you know how, and say, get out of here. please.

and he does.

the texts come from an anonymous number, just like always.

> 28 ppl carbon monoxide poisoning

> 2 dead already

> no hospital

> beth can’t come

> 3 dead

> be there soon

the answer is obvious. if the poisoning has gotten so advanced that some of the victims are already dying, then only in-hospital treatment can save them. even a quick google could’ve come up with this answer, and yet it feels like it’s taking you twice as long to reason it out when half your brain is helplessly looping over and over on you’re not gonna die and i might.

when a black corolla pulls up next to you only a minute later, you yank open the passenger’s side door only to find the seat already occupied.

holy shit.

jack? you say, stunned. i thought you were in prison.

he’s big, round-shouldered and full-bearded, and he looks even bigger squashed into this small car. he’s also sweating like a motherfucker.

i was. get in.

you hurl yourself into the backseat and the driver takes off before you’ve even managed to get your hand on the seatbelt. the sudden violence sets you back on track. who cares how the oldest caruso kid got free? what matters are your patients.

listen, if we don’t do a hospital drop, these people are all dead, you say.

why?

you’re so grateful it’s jack. he’s brutally competent and efficient, not a word or a breath wasted, and he’s the only caruso kid who ever actually listens to you.

if carbon monoxide poisoning is this bad, we can’t just slap a bunch of oxygen masks on them and call it a day. that’s not enough, it won’t work fast enough. not with three dead already.

what do we need?

your skin is practically humming. hyperbaric chamber. lay them in an airtight container built specially for the purpose, fill it with pure oxygen, crank up the pressure. this is the kind of equipment that costs hundreds of thousands of dollars, so they probably don’t even have them at a place like saint anthony’s. these people need a level care of care that only northwestern-level money can buy, okay? or maybe uic. i don’t even think they’ll have enough chambers for all of them in one building, we might have to do two separate dumps, or—

no hospitals, jack says. we have orders.

now you remember why he’s the worst of the caruso kids too. he’s the smartest, which means he should fucking know better.

how much do these people know? you say. when that gets you nowhere, you drop subtlety and go straight for the jugular. are you really willing to kill twenty-five people just to please your fucking dad?

i’d kill you if i got orders, he says. don’t waste time.

it’s a breathtaking thing to hear, and yet, on some level, you were expecting it. after a second, you say, they’re dead, then. but tell me what we got.

no hospital raids, not around here. dad says it might fuck things up for little if a theft cranks up hospital security. but you’ve got as many oxygen canisters as you want down at the blackbird processing plant.

and that’s where we’re headed?

yeah.

okay, you say, and it sounds like a question. but then, five minutes later, you say okay like it’s the answer too.

jack fully turns around in his seat to look at you. he’s going prematurely gray at the temples, and in the dark, his eyes look bottomless.

what do you need? he says.

and for once, you know. what you need, what you are, and what you’re meant to do. so you tell him.

when you arrive, there are only a few lights on inside the factory. you and jack get on an indoor vehicle, a little white golf cart, and speed through a looming, shadowy forest of metallic machinery.

your patients are waiting for you, all of them unconscious and laid out neatly like logs in two rows on the ground. their faces and clothes look sickeningly similar to each other, so you glance at jack and mentally add human trafficking to the long list of his family’s crimes.

there’s also around two dozen men who all came to attention when jack stepped off the golf cart, standing silent and expectant. one of them is different from the others, a short man with the distinctive, overwhelmed expression of a civilian who just got drafted. that must be roberto, the floor manager that you talked to earlier on the phone.

sedatives? you say, and one of the men hands you a big plastic bin full of smaller boxes. you pick one up and squint at the tiny print on the white and orange label. fuck me.

the sedative they managed to get on short notice? it’s dormosedan. which is mean to be used on fucking horses. horses. jesus christ. yeah no, you’re not giving that to your patients.

we’ve got ahold of ten oxygen masks, says jack. eta twenty minutes.

you shake your head. you can see everything in viciously crisp color, time has slowed to syrup, and you can clock even the far-off horn of a distant train. oxygen masks aren’t enough.

turning to roberto, you gesture at the massive section of piping in front of you. is that it?

i don’t think it’ll work, he says, this close to shaking.

you speak past him to the assembled men. load them.

beside you, jack nods. with that, the men begin picking up your patients and carrying them to the wide-open hatch in the huge pipe, getting down on hands and knees, crawling, and pulling the unconscious people after them.

you can’t do this, roberto says. we have to call the cops, we can’t just—

jack reaches for the gun tucked into his jeans and you close your hand over his wrist just in time to stop him from pulling it out. if he gives this guy a heart attack, that’s just one more casualty for you to deal with.

roberto, this is fucking happening, you say. you let go of jack’s wrist, go over, and lean in close to him, ignoring his flinch. you lower your voice. please don’t make me deal with another casualty, we’ve got enough of those already.

after a second, roberto walks away and put his password into the control pad.

when the hatch closes, there are two bodies left lying on the floor, people who are already dead and thus not worth loading. how many patients left living does that make? twenty-four? twenty-three? you’ve lost count.

flood it with oxygen and then increase the pressure, you say to roberto.

how high do you want the pressure?

double whatever the psi is right now.

you can actually see the movement of roberto’s adam’s apple as he swallows.

hey, you say warningly.

after a second, he types in the command. you can hear the humming of the machine as the pressure increases.

you want me to pause it in intervals so the pressure doesn’t increase too fast? he says.

you have no fucking idea. no, you say. just do it.

you take out your phone and start a timer. you don’t even know how long these people should be in for, or how long the canisters will last, but you sit there with your pencil and paper, gather what you know, and get to work.

they can’t stay in for too long, because you’re terrified of one of them improving enough to wake up trapped in the dark. they’d die of a fucking heart attack, breaking into the list of the world’s top ten most miserable deaths. on the other hand, they have to stay in as long as it takes to oxygenate them, or they’ll be dead for certain. and a third consideration? if they’re in for too long, there is such a thing as oxygen poisoning. which. fucking hell.

you write out your calculations so hurriedly that you can barely read your own figures. god only knows if they’re correct. you finally come up with a number of minutes, and once that time has passed, you tell roberto to lower the pressure. in intervals this time, with pauses in between. after all this maniac effort, you’re not gonna lose anyone to the bends like they’re fucking scuba divers. no, no. you’ve entered the stage when everything is hopeful with zero basis in fact. they’re all gonna make it. every last one of them.

this is the worst part. the part when all the decisions have been made, and all you can do is stand there and wait. you abandon your paper and pencil on the floor and begin to pace like a maniac, not caring who sees you.

jack is texting to somebody on his phone, mountainous and intent, but when you pass by him, he says, homemade hyperbaric chamber.

are you supposed to feel fucking encouraged by that?

if they all die, you’re gonna have to kill me too, you mutter in a venomous undertone.

don’t make threats.

the oxygen masks arrive. turns out that only eight of them work, but at least they come with appropriately sized canisters. you instruct jack’s men on how to use the masks on the patients once they emerge from the pipe. if more than eight patients end up making it, they’ll have to rotate the masks between the patients in fifteen-minute intervals. somehow, you don’t think that will be a problem.

you can hear roberto praying quietly in the background.

time disappears, and the one thing you want most in the world is a smoke, though you can’t have it, not with all these gas canisters around. just one cigarette, that would save you. not a menthol, a sapphire. or maybe just standing partly sheltered from the wind in a spot that smells of those cigarettes, drinking half a smile over a stupid joke, you want it to be over already, you want to go home—

finally, the pipe has been completely depressurized and the patients are taken out one by one and laid out once again in their two rows. you dart forward, accidentally bashing your shoulder against an unexpected bit of machinery in the dark, and kneel beside the first one you see.

the woman is weathered and broad shouldered, somewhere in her forties, and looking as peaceful as if she’s just taking a nap. there are strands of gray in her dark hair and laugh lines in the corners of her eyes. you don’t want to check her pulse, but you do.

she’s alive.

all around you, there are footsteps padding by you, quiet words being exchanged. survivors are being laid out, men are fixing the oxygen masks on them, and somewhere in the background, roberto is trying to argue with jack, his voice pitching ever higher with every denial he’s dealt. some of the machines are being turned on in preparation for the morning’s work, great dark monsters humming and growling at each other in the dark.

this is not over. there is so much left to do. and yet, for a moment, you close your eyes and feel her pulse murmuring it into your fingertips: still here, still here.

when you were first charged with the care of these people, twenty-five of them were alive. by the time they’re carried away from the factory and you’re forced to go home, only nineteen of them are still breathing.

it’s nineteen more than you thought you could save. it’s still not enough.

when the car drops you off at your building, your eyes go to the spot where richie should be standing, but of course he’s not there. it’s morning, not his hour. why you were expecting him, you don’t know.

you want to tell him about this night more than anything, but you know you never can and you never will.

you find him laid out neatly like a log, gone cold and facing up. no blood, no wound, nobody else. at least this time they let you come and see him.

the sun comes up over the bridge and stains the cityscape as gold as good. oh, michael.

you kneel without a prayer, run your fingertips across his sweater, soft and slow as though you could still wake him up. your knuckles knock against metal, so you stop short, look down, and there it is: the gun, your gun, the ready death you try to pull from out of his fingers.

baby, let it go.

his grip goes tight, his blue eyes open slow.

the sound of your evening alarm tears you out of your dreams. you find yourself clutching at empty air so tightly that your nails leave red half-moons in your palms, and at first, you remember nothing but the feeling.

it all comes back in bits and pieces jumbled together: the little white golf cart speeding through the factory floor, the sunrise over the bridge, closed eyes above oxygen masks, the rows of bodies, richie’s eyes. you’re not gonna die and i might.

you sit up fast, fully awake. a chest-crushing certainty takes hold. all the old excuses are carried away from you like paper in the wind.

he says shit that would scare anyone into wondering if he’s okay, but then he turns around and jokes like nothing’s wrong. he has people he loves dearly, but he still comes to you for comfort that you are hardly able to provide. he has access to a gun. this time, it’ll be his own. other than that, it’s all the same as last time.

the fact that you’ve noticed the pattern is no comfort to you at all. by now, you know richie right down to the ground, from his peculiar little habits to his pet baseball peeves to his customary jewelry to the shape his mouth makes when he doesn’t want to admit that you’re funny. you know him so well.

and you’ve only ever been able to save people if they’re total strangers.

by the time richie strolls up to your building, it’s occurred to you that somewhere in the haze of grief and touch starvation and whatever words a shrink would use to describe the feeling of twenty-five lives depending on you, maybe, just maybe, you’ve gone a little fucking crazy yourself.

jack won’t return your texts or calls, so you have no idea how your patients are doing, and that is so deeply fucking upsetting that you swerve right back to richie.

maybe richie’s not deeply depressed. maybe it’s like the time—literally yesterday—when you assumed eva got hurt and psyched yourself up to request permission from old caruso for a full-on murder.

also, and this cannot be emphasized enough: you only slept for two hours.

so, mustering the last bit of mental strength left at your disposal, you head downstairs early and decide not to bring up your batshit theory unless you’ve got actual evidence that you’re right.

richie seems a surprised to find you waiting for him, and he approaches a little awkwardly, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. the sight of him alone is enough to calm you a little, the reality of his stained shirt and haggard face.

hey, you say, in your very best imitation of a normal person.

yo, he says. last night was.

yeah, you say. then, as casual as you can, you good?

he shrugs. i am if you are?

you nod. in the silence, you can feel the awkwardness draining away, so you give it a little while before you finally say say, so what’s the story, morning glory?

his nose is running a little and he’s as tired as ever, but the smile is real. you wanna see something crazy?

always.

he gets his phone out of his pocket and flips through a blur of emoji-studded texts to find the thing he’s looking for.

my buddy tim got video of this crazy fight on the l this morning. looks exactly like that one with the nerd. like, same fucking thing, i swear to god.

he turns to you and catches you watching him close, soaking him up. he’s stubble-cheeked and grinning, he’s standing solid, he’s completely fucking fine. he has to be.

what one with the nerd, you say, a little too late. noticeably too late, so you add an explanation. i didn’t get much sleep last night.

yeah, i wasn’t gonna say, but. he raises his eyebrows, tilts the words playful enough so they’re not a threat. secret agent?

you hum a bit of the james bond theme song, then point at his phone. you’re gonna have to show me the nerd one first, cause i don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

you’re gonna love this, he says.

you shake your head as you get out your pack and your lighter. you have no idea what it’s gonna be, but you’re smiling already. am i actually gonna love this, or is—

no, you’re actually gonna love it, he says.

cause you remember the one with the fuckin poacher trying—

well, maybe my tastes are a little too eclectic for you, a little too avant fucking garde, but—

avant—you burst out laughing. you bruce springsteen motherfucker, don’t talk to me about avant garde.

bruce springsteen is the man, was that supposed to be an insult? before you can say a thing in your defense, he interrupts. shh, it’s starting.

you lean against the wall and watch. you’re not gonna cry, but there’s something in the way his body protects you a little extra from the wind. he’s okay. he’s okay, so you must be too.

the video turns out to be exactly the opposite of what you expected, because the nerd wins. in detail, a meathead picks a fight with a skinny little twentysomething redhead, and the redhead retaliates so fast and dirty that even the meathead’s friends seem impressed when they arrive on the scene drag the redhead off him.

right? richie says, when the video ends, supremely satisfied. it’s so funny to you that he loves that video, because between meathead and nerd, you wouldn’t have guessed him as identifying with the nerd. rather than ask him about it, you settle for a childish little poke. you’re too exhausted to do anything else.

that’s a nerd to you? you say.

he’s wearing fucking glasses, what else do you want.

everyone wears glasses, numbskull. you flick the screen with a finger. that’s not a nerd.

richie splutters. and he’s short!

everyone’s short to you.

richie half turns to you and leans a little into your personal space, looming in a way that makes him occupy your whole field of vision. you stand your ground on instinct.

yeah, you’re short to me all right, he says.

well, you’re fucking…

he’s so tall, and that’s terrible, and yet you kind of wish he was even taller so his face wouldn’t be so close to your face. there’s really nothing you can think of to say. you’ve well and truly lost the plot.

richie bursts out laughing.

…a pain in my ass, is what you are, you say. rick.

so you got no sleep last night, he says, still laughing but moving back a fraction, letting up.

you shake your head ruefully. like none.

then what are you doing vertical?

good question. technically, it’s against the rules for you to sleep while you’re on call, but at this point you’re pretty done with the carusos and their fucking rules and you really only got out of bed this morning so you could see richie.

you shrug and raise your cigarette, half hoping he gets it and half hoping he doesn’t.

he does, of course. you can tell by the way he says, go, then. go take a nap.

you should be grateful that you’ve gotten through the conversation without making an utter fool of yourself with your little conspiracy theory, but being with him right now feels so easy, you don’t want to leave it behind.

you good? you say.

i’m fucking golden, baby.

so you leave. as you wait for the elevator to come down and get you, you look back at him one last time through the glass of the apartment building’s doors. he’s standing there watching one of his videos, totally engrossed, totally delighted, his fist pressed to his mouth.

sleep should be safe for you now, right? sleep should be safe for you now.

[ chapter five ] [ masterlist ]

@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1, @eternallyvenus, @cerial-junkie — if anyone else wants a tag, let me know.

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #mine #readerfic #do i know you?#the bear imagine #this chapter kicked my ass lmao. but i fought back #thank you everyone who said anything it all really fueled me <333 #diky

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terrahlee-cup · 7 months ago

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My hand slipped there’s more now @mousermayhem. This poor kid needs some damn soup and a hug. That is in no way my fault.

Splinter hummed softly, gently running his hand over their guest's scales. He'd walked in to find the turtle thrashing in his sleep and every protective instinct told him to calm the child down. He was glad his sons had, for the most part, stayed wary of the larger turtle. For him, though… he couldn't stop seeing an injured teenager that had been created only to fight.

The turtle's own brothers had been willing to harm him to the point of almost killing him. Had the child ever been treated gently? Had any of them? He was so young, inexperienced and vulnerable in ways Splinter's own children wouldn't be able to understand. It disgusted him that any adult would do things this way. Copied memories were not a true substitute for living. Knowing how to fight in theory did not give these children the muscle memory, the practice, that had been so important for his sons' safety.

A soft whine and a bang brought Splinter out of his thoughts to murmer soothing words to the injured teen. When the turtle's tail stopped whipping against the bedframe, Splinter looked to the notes Donatello had written out earlier that day. The times listed on the paper confirmed Splinter's suspicions that the pain medication was wearing off and leading to the increased distress.

He wasn't surprised to see his son step into the room shortly after his look at the notes. "Oh, hi dad. I didn't expect you to be in here?"

"I unfortunately cannot keep myself from watching over injured teenagers. I have too much experience with them pushing themselves too quickly." Donatello grinned,

"You mean Raph pushing himself too quickly."

"He may be the worst of you four, but you have all done it." His son stuck his tongue out before turning to administer the pain medication.

"I try not to, but I have so much stuff I want to work on! I can't just sit in bed all day. By the way, this stuff isn't going to keep him asleep, so he might wake up soon. Just… so you don't get bit or something."

"I will keep that in mind, thank you."

As it turned out, the child would sleep for another hour. Splinter took the chance to read while he waited. When the turtle did eventually start to stir he stood to fill a glass of water— far enough to avoid any initial panic, but close enough to help if necessary. Thankfully it seemed they needn't have worried, the teen simply yawning and carefully pushing himself into a sitting position. Catching sight of Splinter he tilted his head and blinked, "You're… their dad. Right."

Splinter smiled gently and nodded, "Yes. Now here, have something to drink, I'm sure you're dehydrated after everything that's happened." The turtle took the cup without complaint and Splinter returned to his seat. "May I ask why you chose to come here specifically?"

The teen opened his mouth to reply, only for his head to snap around to watch the door. Splinter raised an eyebrow. Did the child have enhanced hearing? Mikey skid to a stop just outside the door, grinning as he entered the room. "Hey, you're awake! Feeling better?" The other turtle gave a hesitant nod, tail curling around his ankle. Leonardo's entrance was far less happy-go-lucky.

"Mikey we don't know if he's safe-!"

"I can confirm that everything is fine, Leonardo, you have nothing to stress over. Come, sit." Seeing Mikey safe, Leonardo's shoulders sagged in relief as he moved to sit in a chair near his father. Mikey meanwhile began chattering to a mildly alarmed Dark Raph, who seemed unsure of if he should be responding to what was being said. Donatello joined them moments later, checking the computer before he spoke.

"How are you feeling? Any pain? The meds shouldn't be wearing off yet, but we already have a boosted metabolism so I'm not sure about you…" The other teen shrugged,

"I feel fine." After a moment of hesitation, tongue darting out to lick his lips, he continued, "My hip is a bit sore still."

"Yeah that's pretty much to be expected, but I can have one of the bots scan it just in case."

"The-" Seeing the bot pop up next to him had the turtle jerking back in surprise, eyes warily tracking the machine as it started its scan. Donatello didn't seem to notice, eyes still on the computer as he looked over the images. Mikey, however, whipped out a sketchbook and nudged the other teen until he was looking at art instead of what was happening.

"Everything looks fine, but if you want to walk around at all you should probably wear a brace for now. That way you won't have to worry about anything popping back out of place." Still distracted by Mikey's sketchbook, the other turtle only hummed in reply.

Donatello's deadpan look had Splinter smiling in amusement and shaking his head. "I can make sure he actually heard you later, my son." His son huffed, but rolled the computer chair over to sit with him and Leonardo.

"Oh yeah! Guys, we need to give him a nickname! We can't just keep calling him Dark Raph or whatever if he's sticking around." Mikey seemed excited by the idea, but the other turtle frowned, eyes narrowed.

"You… want me to stay."

"Yeah of course we do! Right, guys?"

"Mikey if he has somewhere to go we can't keep him here. Wait, do you have somewhere to go?" At Leonardo's question the teen eyes skittered away to glare at a the wall.

"No, I don't." Donatello raised an eyeridge,

"Well I'd prefer you stay until you're healed at least. I mean, we can't just let you wander around the apartment, but… yeah."

"Yeah, what Donnie said! C'mon you should stay. Pleaseeee." Dark Raph immediately looked away from Mikey's puppydog eyes, still frowning.

"I- what's the catch. You want me to fight my brothers or some shit?" When all of his sons froze, confusion written across their faces, Splinter stepped in.

"There is no catch. We would not ask you to fight your brothers. If you really feel like you must give us something for letting you stay, any information you have on Darius Dunn's plans would be helpful. However, we are not going to force you to do anything." The teen was still visibly suspicious of their intentions, but he did seem to consider his options. Splinter waited in silence for the turtle's answer. It did not matter how much they wanted to help; if the child felt like a captive they would only be able to do so much.

By the time the teen spoke Mikey was bouncing in place, quickly running low on patience. "I'll… stay. For now." Mikey cheered at the answer,

"Yes! I'm making a celebration dinner bye!" His son was halfway out the door before he'd even finished his sentence.

"He forgot about the nickname thing, didn't he?"

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt au #Left Behind B Side #I wanted to get to the nickname in this part and then realized I could do the funniest thing #If I have to suffer so do you #writing :D

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truths33k3r4 · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER 21 - Lost Control

The silence of the hallway did nothing to relent the growing noise in Raph’s head. Over and over, he replayed the past 5 minutes of his fight with Leo.

‘ He’s never done this before.. It’s always “ You should’ve known better! “ or “ WISE UP, RAPH!”... And what the heck did he ask me.. AGH! STUPID BRAIN- Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. ‘

However deep he scraped into his mind, Leo’s words to him still remained hidden.

And it was driving Raphael mad.

‘ A question.. He had his brows up… It was a question- Ok what would he ask??....

Uh maybe “ Can I look at your arm? “... ‘

Raph’s cheeks softly warmed at the reminder of the pitiful squeak that escaped his face when Leo grabbed his sore arm. Despite the embarrassment of the memory, Raph let out a small smile. Even though Leo had been so angry with him, as soon as he knew Raph’s arm was in pain, he relinquished his tight grip. And then later switched to Raph’s left arm.

‘... Even when he’s as angry as me… He’s still above me. ‘

The times his oldest brother’s temper made an appearance were far and few between. Even when they were kids, when Sensei’s patience was on its last breath trying to recall the names of his four sons, he resorted to calling them “ Shizukana “( Tranquil ), “ Kisho “ (Temper), “No” ( Brain ), and “ Hanten” ( Spots).

Sensei knew what he was doing when he called Leonardo “ Tranquil”.

For as long as he’d kept watch over Leo, the little mutant always carried a soothing calmness to the chaos of the family. Whenever the brothers got into their usual tussles, Leo would quietly waltz into the room, pause and listen to both sides of the argument, process and discern who was in the right, and going by his judgment, grab and pull the instigator into a separate room to Sensei.

Somehow at a very young age, Leo carried a maturity only a senior person could hold.

And then…

.. there was Raph: The one who instigated the most.

The one who could never control the burning fire flickering in his heart…

… The one who hurt his brothers.

“ Mmmmnghhhh… “

Raph jolted at the sound of Lotus’ quivering voice. He looked down at her, cradled helplessly in his arms. He had forgotten he was even carrying her… It only felt like he was carrying Sensei’s thicker robe, or maybe a 8 year old Mikey.

He was somewhat used to the sensation from years of carrying his brothers.

There were times growing up that training became far more draining, leaving Raph carrying a very exhausted Mikey to bed, or a sore Don to his beanbag chair. But Leo never allowed someone to carry him. Even Sensei. No matter how physically spent he felt, he’d much rather drag his heavy feet and aching limbs to his bedroom on his own, than risk such humiliation. He was the oldest, and therefore he had to be the strongest.

‘ “Weakness isn’t a trait a leader should possess. NOT EVER.” ‘

Raph found it ironic when Leo stepped up as Team Medic at the age of 15. How the heck can someone be so good at carin’ for others when he’s so bad at carin’ for HIMSELF??? Leo was always the one to come running when one of the brothers scraped their knee, or twisted their ankle, or whatever. The brothers would joke that he slept with the first aid kit under his pillow.

.. How can that same brother get caught with blood all over his hands alone in the dead of night?

How can that same brother be found with an ice pack over his dislocated shoulder?

How can that same brother ask Raph to never tell his family about any of it?

‘.. At least I know when to ask for help..Sort of..’

Raph looked down, escaping from his memories, to study Lotus.

Her breathing had finally slowed down to a normal pace, and her eyelids fluttered and winced.

Now that he was holding her, he got to really see all the scars and bruises plaguing her body up close. Her skin was so pale. And the insides of her arms were bruised with black and blue. He could feel her bones nearly poking through her thin skin.

‘ This girl’s really gone through heck and back..’

Raph walked slower through the hallway, flattening his feet to make less movement so as to not disturb Lotus. With all the bruises and cuts, he knew to be more careful with his jostling movements.

He also realized, while focusing so hard to not move Lotus too much, that he was now squeezing her limp body up to his plastron. He could feel the small breaths rise up in her chest and then extinguish with a faint sigh.

They were way too short.

Normally a deep breath would last about two seconds.

Her's weren’t even lasting one.

‘ Gotta make sure to tell Leo about that..

Ughh… After.. I apologize, that is….’

As Raph arrived back at the brother’s bedroom, he noticed his youngest brother in bed laying on a pile of dirty clothes reading comics. Mikey gave his brother a small look, but then shot up when he saw who Raph was carrying.

“ Awwwww Raph, you’re a big softieeeee~” Mikey cooed as he reached to grab his phone.

Without skipping a beat, Raph immediately grabbed his lone sai left on the ground and chucked it full-force about 3 inches away from Mikey’s snout. Mikey let out a startled gasp, covering his nose with his other hand, and looked back at Raph with his eyes bugging out.

“ I WILL END YOU. “ Raph mouthed with the fierceness of a lion as he shone his sharp fangs to Mikey. “ PUT THE PHONE DOWN. “

Mikey paused for just a moment, contemplating if it would be worth it to retaliate.. But the look of barely- contained seething anger in Raph’s eyes made him rethink his choices.

But consequences have never stopped Mikey.

SOMEHOW- AGAIN- In the span of a FLIPPIN’ MILLISECOND- Mikey swiped up his phone, tapped the screen, slid down the ladder from his bunk, and zipped out the door.

Raph stood there, still holding Lotus, with his mouth gaping open and his head flipping from Mikey’s bunk to the door.

‘ ………….. I always thought three brothers were too many. ‘

With a low growl, Raph braced his core and bent his knees as he carefully placed Lotus onto the mattress. Thoughts pushed into his head as he pulled the covers over her, tucking her in as best he could. But this time, since he wasn’t in the annoying presence of his brothers, Raph allowed such thoughts to gain the front of his mind.

Normally, he would push against things that would pull unwanted emotions to the surface of his rough exterior. However much Mikey encouraged him to “ not ignore his feelings”, Raph knew better than to listen. Feelings lead to emotions. Emotions lead to hugs and tears; Something so awkward and… VULNERABLE for everyone involved. So, yeah, no thanks. Not his thing. He’ll leave that to Mikey.

However..

If there ever WERE times he would allow such things to cloud his mind and judgment, they would be felt BEHIND DOORS. NO ONE present.

Raph scoped out the room. It was only him and.. his unconscious roommate.

‘ …. Guess it’s safe enough to… ugh… feeeeeel. ‘

His eye brows lowered as he watched Lotus from the edge of the bed. Theories of the causes of her various cuts and bruises flew through his mind. He’s seen all kinds of injuries, (mostly by being the older brother of Mikey), bruises included. He also understood that they weren’t made by any trip or fall. The ones wrapped around her wrists seemed to be spread over a sizable dent imprinted into her skin.

Raph’s pupils constricted as he remembered the cuffs that had been strapped down on his own body. The jerks at that lab made sure to make them way too tight. He remembered how simply clenching his fists would squeeze a painful pressure into his wrists and upper arm.

He absentmindedly rubbed his right wrist as he shook his head to bring his mind back to the present.

‘ NO! I’m HOME. I’m SAFE. I’m OK. ‘

He thanked God that the shaking didn’t start again. He hated when things were out of his control. ESPECIALLY if it’s his own dang body.

That thought brought more to Raph’s mind. He laid his hand down next to Lotus’ on the edge of the bed.

‘ Looks like you’ve never been in control of anything in your own life…What the heck were you doin’ at that lab? What did they want with you… ‘

Raph jolted by a faint groan and a small voice.

“.... Th- thank you…Raph… “

He turned his head to look at Lotus, whom was now fighting to stay awake. Her eyelids hung low as she spoke looking up at him.

Raph allowed a subtle smirk on his face as he plopped down on the floor next to her. His eyes stayed glued to the ground as he patted the top of the covers where Lotus’ hand was peeking through.

“... No problem. “

Just as Raph began to lift his hand, the feeling of something quickly wrapping around it shocked his senses. His eyes shot up to see his hand clutched between Lotus’.

Everything went silent including Raph’s brain.

That's it for this chapter! :) This one was one of my easiest to write by far. ( Probably helps that Raph is the focus.)

Hope you enjoyed!

To God be the glory!

Masterpost <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#tmnt #my version of tmnt!!#the strength in weakness #SIW Raph #SIW Lotus #SIW Mikey #angst #angst/comfort #Raph the softie #Mikey's gonna die if he doesn't learn

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dandylovesturtles · 2 years ago

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Rise Dad Simulator: Part 1.9

Readers chose: [Encouragement] That sounds like a good idea.

Orange knows his limits; Splinter trusts him not to do anything that is too taxing. And he did tell him that sometimes a little pain is worth the gain...

Besides, his older brothers will make sure he's taken care of.

"That sounds like a good idea. I'm sure they'll be happy to help you with this."

"Yeah!" Orange's legs stretch off the hammock, and he swings them back and forth in excitement, sending the entire thing swinging. "And if we can make my hands steady, then I can do art! And cook! And play ball... and arcade games... and do handstands... oh, oh, and-"

"That all sounds wonderful, Orange," says Splinter from where he is now wrapped desperately around the hammock, "but if you keep swinging you are going to launch me across the room!"

"Oops! Heh heh..." Orange stops swinging, though his feet still kick at the ankles. "Sorry Pops."

Splinter shakily lets go, sliding off the hammock and onto the crate he used to climb up onto it initially. "You have gotten so strong! What have we been feeding you?"

"Pizza and fruit roll-ups mostly." Orange is still grinning, but it starts to fall. "Hey, Dad? I'm worried about Raph."

"About Red?"

"Yeah. I mean... I guess I'm worried about Leo too..." His little kicks turn slower and more forlorn. "But Raph... He just looked... really upset."

"Upset about the fight?"

Mikey chews on his bottom lip. "Yeah... I think so. Can you go talk to him, too?"

#rise dad simulator #rise dad simulator update #rottmnt #rise michelangelo #rise splinter #this is one of those times I wish 3 days polls were an option

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brightlotusmoon · 5 days ago

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Snippet from "Shattered Light"

When his little brother woke up screaming behind clenched teeth, Raphael was ready. He paused the TV and with one hand he stroked Mikey's forehead while cupping his cheek with the other.

“It's okay, Mikey,” he murmured. “It's okay, it's just a dream. Come on, wake up.” He gently tapped Mikey's face.

Mikey gasped and his upper body spasmed. His eyes shot open and the glassy look faded. “Raphie?”

“Yeah, it's me.” Raph let himself smile. “You're safe. You're home.”

Mikey’s eyes immediately softened, shining. “Home. Yeah. Mm. Where’d Leo go?”

“Don's lab. Ya fell asleep to his Big Brother Reiki again.”

“Oh,” and Mikey began to sit up, “Sorry.”

“Nah, no need to apologize. Yer healing.” Raph carefully helped him, mindful of the long thick scars crossing the skin between Mikey's plastron and carapace.

Mikey shuffled, lightly grunting in pain, until he was settled next to his brother, shoulder to shoulder. “Are you watching Supernatural?”

Raph shrugged. “Thought ya might like it when ya woke up.”

Mikey blinked at him. “Did you watch a bunch of episodes just in case I woke up during them?”

“Yup.”

Mikey smiled shakily. “Thanks, bro.”

Raph smiled back, putting an arm around him. “Yup.”

“Let's watch more episodes,” Mikey said.

“Sure,” Raph's smile grew. “We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, those words come with a warning,” came Donnie's teasing voice. He sat on Mikey's other side while Leo sat next to Raph.

Mikey looked at Donnie fondly. “Yeah they do.” He held out his fist. Donnie bumped it with a delighted look in his eyes.

Raph watched Mikey watch several more episodes, blue eyes wide and slightly distant. On the screen, a massive explosion filled the screen and Mikey's entire body flinched. Raph felt himself wince in sympathy. Donnie wrapped an arm around Mikey, rubbing his shoulder.

“It was on fire because of me,” Mikey whispered.

Leo barely moved, then was crouching in front of him, taking both his hands. “If it hurts too much, you don't have to remember.”

Raph held his breath.

“I can, though.” Mikey leaned into Leo. “I want to. I'm glad it happened.”

Raph exhaled quietly. He began to massage Mikey’s thigh, the right one with one of the biggest scars. He remembered when that was still an open wound, spilling between Leo's fingers as Donnie drove staples into it, and Mikey barely reacted, the way he had barely flinched when Raph put his dislocated ankle back in place on the same leg.

The trembling had started up as soon as the wounds were secure. And Raph had lifted him bridal style, and Mikey in his delirium had flung his right arm, the less damaged arm, around Raph's shoulders and pushed his head against Raph's collarbone, and it meant he was still there.

Raph honestly couldn't remember what happened next, but he knew he'd been stopped by Casey, somewhere outside the burning warehouse. And Casey had lifted Mikey from him and used his taller longer body to settle into the back of the van, resting Mikey on a stretcher.

Mikey had made a deep wounded animal noise that had made Raph’s entire body tense up. There had been April's voice, soothing, promising, loving. Donnie had been crouched above Mike, cleaning reopened wounds. Leo had appeared at his shoulder, and Mikey had leaned into his touch, breathing beginning to slow down.

Now, it felt familiar, as Mikey's breathing softened.

“It got better when you guys showed up,” Mikey said, and Raph continued the massage.

“I sensed it,” Leo said. “Our minds were still connected. You were in so much pain. But you smiled.”

“I was happy to see you. The doctor would have kept going.”

“He's dead,” Leo said.

The corner of Mikey's mouth lifted. “Maybe.”

“There was something so familiar about him,” Donnie said.

Mikey tensed up, staring at the TV screen. “He couldn't hide it.“

Raph eyed him, a chill already rippling through him.

“Hide what?” Leo asked.

Mikey sighed. “He was a Bishop clone.”

“Well, fuck,” Raph exhaled.

“Oh,” Donnie said in a tiny voice.

Leo worked his jaw, eyes narrowed. “He might not be dead.”

“Yeah,” Mikey whispered.

#tmnt fanfiction #tmnt 2003 angst needed more closure #tmnt mikey 2003 #big brother Raph #agent bishop

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hearvticle · 8 months ago

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my favourite pete wentz petekey livejournal entries

Q: peter, would you ever date someone 13 years younger then you? or at least be friends with them? p.s you are hot and i love you

A: i don’t want to go to jail. im little and i think i would get passed around like a pack of cigarettes. but thank you that is really sweet. i don’t really want to do pushups in a drag…

that one isn't really related to petekey and it's not a lj entry but it's funny and makes me feel less devastated and depresed about the whole petekey thing

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Amazing new mexico sunset. I’m hanging on a bridge with my friend mikey way from my chem. Its all orange and pink above us. We went to another waterpark again. I love high fives again. Totally back in love. Saw the most amazing movie… I think its called spirited away. Watch it.

Peterpan

obviously this is one of my top favs everytime i see the word "mexico", "sunset" or the mention of mikey way i immediately think of this one lj entry

July 19, 2005

wrote you a goodbye note (you just wrote me off) on your arm when you passed out. bestfriends, exfriends- better off as lovers not the other way around. racing through the city in the back of yellow checkered cars. the takeoffs are the worst but the skin from your shoulder to your ear makes it all worth it. and im sorry the way my moods flicker on and off like old light on your porch, but i know you wouldn’t have it any other way. sneaking in your window instead of out. the way you hold a cigarette cause you don’t know what to do with your hands when we are sitting this close. the way the waists of pants feel better at the ankles. the way you always were my best excuse for calling in sick on everyone else. i miss you.

petey

SO HEARTBREAKING also i lovelovelove bang the doldrums even though it makes me super sad

July 26, 2005

lately i’ve been into believing fictional stories like the ones about me and you being happy. they’ve gotta be science fiction cause how else can you have a monster fall in love with a boy with no heart? actually i’m pretty sure you have a heart, but i’m just as certain it’ll never be mine. i can tell you’re willing to be loved somewhere on the inside but that doesn’t do me any good when i’m still seeing things through thick curtains over windows and padlocked doors on the outside. bitter regrets, predictable forfeits. we lit a fire that was nothing but smoke and hot air. ashes. my hands are empty and you hold all the cards, kind of funny how you don’t even want them/me. the final nail in my coffin stabbed me in the heart - from my back. you once made my heart skip a beat, now you make it want to skip this. you’ve got salty mails ripping my wounds open that you’re telling me to let heal. love is a mirage, you only think it’s there for so long..til you either wise up or die of hydration. love is the way to blow your brains out minus the gun, i swear. it’s the stupidest form of suicide cause you don’t die. and whatever doesn’t kill you only laughs at you for coming close enough to. sorry, it’s just the bitterness talking. ignore it/me. i’m just loose words hanging on the ends of your lips, even looser when i’m anywhere near your hips. poetry written from blistered fingertips and sleep deprived eyes that was better before the ink dried. he said, "i should have stayed with her,” and i should have stayed away. held together by paperclips and lies, a part of me is still trying to pretend i was (mis)hearing things but even the voices in my head aren’t that mean to me. and them “i’m sorry,” too late, i’m a better (re)actor than the one you’re being to convince me. i’m just convinced that telemarketers are the only people with more hangups than me. you called this before you knew the number, and hung up before you got a responce. tell me any of this will get me somewhere worth being without being left behind. i tried, i gave it/you my all, but all i can do is give up. i don’t tell you my insecurities so you can use them against me, but help me get over them. instead you said and did the worst thing you could do. worse than cheating to me, i hope you know. but whatever i don’t even know, i guess sometimes it takes losing what you had to see what you didn’t.

the parts in italics r my fav this one truly is the most heartbreaking one out of all of pete's petekey entries it's so poetic emotional I CANT DESCRIBE ITTT

next one isn't an entry i js really like it

December 2nd, 2005

[…]

i love how i thought this was all over and i have to face the same two months replayed for the rest of my life.

my head and heart are beating the shit out of me trying to see what hurts worse.

kinda like us.

yep.

summer wasn’t hot enough but i had hope winter was gonna be the coolest.

i obviously thought wrong.

you and me are the last hot day in summer. we’re just fading before the fall.

if you listen really closely to whatever's around you you can hear me crying. again, italics r my fav

November 23rd, 2005

[…]

i wrote you a letter a few hours ago that i never intended to give you in the first place and then ripped it up and threw it away cause it’s much too personal to say on paper. even over a phone. the words i said in it i need to say to you in person. i guess it felt better to write it all out. it’s easy to say “i only need 5 seconds with you than a lifetime with someone else” than it is to live it. to be honest, i’m dying from it. “kiss me electric” vs “kiss me at all.” and when you do it’s just a kiss off.

this isn't the full entry its js that this half had more emotional impact on me

friends that lay together

forgive me for not showing more remorse

apologies were never really my thing- outside of feeling sorry for myself. the last nail in your coffin got stuck in the mail. youre gonna have to wait. until then focus on love below the waist. they say your head can be a prison- consider this a conjugal visit.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Stick around long enough and everyone becomes parody of themselves (see also: if it could happen to the egyptians if could happen to you).

[…]

you dont hate me, you hate the part of you that is like me. i cant sit here and ride my flaws until the end because the truth is i live the charmed life because of you and them. we are a gang. maybe its time to disband. im not sure i am thinking clearly but i just want you to know that i waited on you guys calls all night- they never came. i just wanted to say i miss you or im sorry or you know something that would have meant something to you. i would have made it poetic and memorable or at least something you could laugh at while drifting off to sleep. always trying to relive the glory days.

i dont care how poorly these sentences were constructed or how in the light of day i will wish i had not written them- right now i can only curse the fucking light off of this stupid western city because it wont ever get dark enough for sleep but otherwise how could you guide your way back here?

my head always feels warm right before i pass out, i always worry that there is something wrong and i wont wake up or you know i will. promise me that you wont take anything i ever say too seriously.

***

Friday, July 07, 2006

im so sorry, but not really. ('straighten up and die right’)

i said i want to be rebuilt like a frank lloyd wright only without all of the water damage. or painted over like a monet only less blurry. she said “no, youre something different”. like what? “something better”. it gave me the rush of warm blood like you see in cartoon dogs right before their eyes pop out and all of the bells go off. my head is spinning like a car off of an icy guardrail. show me what you are made of. your eyes were always rolling but youd tilt your head so they were somehow always still stuck on me (have your cake and eat it too). i feel safe but not like a bet more like the way mothers feel when the lock the car doors in bad neighborhoods. i am blue waves across the red rootlike veins in the bodies drawn flat in medical books. i wonder at the way that someone can write thousands and thousands of pages about my insides. when i met you i gave you a name- not your own- but in my head so i wouldnt ever mix you up with anyone so ordinary- i cant tell you- but to me it meant salvation. you only wanted reaction. but i cant be bothered. not anymore. ill see you in the spring. first pew on the left. wear your white veil and dont forget the words. warped tour. sun drenched days. bestfriends. new roads. so long salvation. dont worry your pretty little heads. i am sleeping safe tonight.

okay tbh this is js a bunch of petekey stuff thatre my favs but i put the title heading thing as livejournal entries cause it's more aesthetic 😞

these next ones r js tweets

ALSOOO HE GREEN TEA KITKATS OETE THING IS SO CUTE ITS MY 2ND FAV NEXT TO THE NEW MEXICO SUNSET ONE and that's all i think

#Spotify

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timelesstoclafane · 2 years ago

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A Changing Shoe Sizes Tale

(This is not mine, it was a story I loved back in the day and I just found a version of it but couldn’t share it, so I copy/pasted it)

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR MIKE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!” My friends sang to me as I blew out my candles on my birthday cake. I immediately went to go open my presents while my parents cut the cake and started handing out pieces to everyone.

I unwrapped a rectangular shaped box and to my surprise I got the special branded SUPRA shoes that they only made probably a handful of them. What makes these shoes so special, is there is no actual size on these babies, but they have a special dial along the side that makes the shoe shrink and grow, as well as whoever wears them. The catch is though is the shoe registers itself to the user who wore them last, so try not to let anyone mess with them as long as you were the last wearer.

I immediately slipped the things on and turned them up one shoe size, going from an 11 to a 12, and immediately felt myself grow a good two inches and swell in size a bit. “Thanks Mom and Dad! You guys are the best!”

“No Problem, Sweetie. Now why don’t you go up stairs and put them away for now.

After I put my shoes away I really needed to go use the restroom. As I made my way there, my friend Andrew was coming out from using it himself. “Damn, Mikey, I would love to have a pair of those shoes!” I hated being called Mikey, and I haven’t been called that since my growth spurt at 14. Now 21 and legal, people better call me Mike!

“Maybe you can try the shoes out sometime Andrew,” He also hated being called by his name as well. He liked to be called Andy, and because he stopped growing at 14 as well and was stuck at 5′2″ in size 5s, I had to give him a hard time with it.

“Yeah that would be cool,” he said.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer as I pushed my way past him and entered the restroom. I whipped my cock out and began to take a long, hard piss into the bowl.

Moments later a dizzy spell hit me and i grabbed onto the wall for support. “What the fuck?!” I steadied myself as my hand began to slide down the wall and my body slowly began to compact inward on itself. The bowl beginning to look closer and closer as my body slowly began to shrink smaller and smaller.

I stopped pissing and ran up the stairs, tripping over my shrinking feet and legs. “Why is this happening?! my voice changing a pitch as I try to pull myself up the stairs to my bedroom. I know someone must be messing with the shoes, it was the only way I could be shrinking and so fast. As I finally reached the top of the stairs I was a good 5′6″ 140 lbs… By the time I reached my door handle I was easily 5′4″ 120… And by the time the door was open, I gazed at my friend, Andrew, wearing my Supras…. now size 5′s… and I looked dead on at him, we were eye to eye.

“Dude, how could you do this to me?!” I was hurt.

“You said I could try them, thought now was a good time,” he just gave me a smirk.

“Take them off now!” I walked towards him and as I got closer, my shorts got caught around my ankles and I tripped, I landed right between his legs, my hands on each side of his body. What I didn’t realize though until it was too late is one hand hit the dial on the shoe, and brought it to as far as it could go… Size 18s…”

“Oh Fuck!” I watched his feet push outward as they grew to the size of my forearms. His calves becoming thicker by the second, I tried to grab on to them and steady myself as they grew more denser by the second.

Next thing I saw was his thighs and ass as they filled out his shorts, his cock growing in them too as it slid down and stuck tight to the material. His entire body growing proportionately to his now massive feet size. His legs grew longer like trees planted in the ground and my eyes had to travel upward as I saw his shirt becoming tighter and tighter by the second.

Not only was the shirt becoming tighter, it literally bunched themselves up onto his expanding pecs and biceps, exposing a washboard hard 8 pack and a perfect V taper leading down to his prized growing meat in his uncomfortably tight shorts.

Soon I wasn’t even able to see his face as his pecs had grown so immense, and in my position, completely overshadowed anything above them. I began to hear some tearing sounds from his clothing as the shorts began to explode off of him, his semi hard phallus appeared monstrous to me. Next came the shirt and with a quick flex, tore right down the back and up the arm sleeves.

In one last moan, my nightmare came true… the sound of tearing cloth and leather as his feet began to tear through the Supras, “NO!!!!” I shouted, watching his toes push through the front ends. I guess there was only so much material a growing pair of shoes can actually contain in them.

Andrew slowly bent down, his cock brushing over my body, until he was once again eye to eye with me. “Happy Birthday, Mikey…”

Changing Shoe Sizes - The Locker Room

(Again, not mine, but a sequel that I wanted to share)

“Come on man, let me try on your shoes!” I asked Chad. The lucky bastard won one of the new prototype’s from Adidas new shows that can change the wearers size of their feet with a quick turn of a knob on the shoe. The original model was by Supra, but people went a bit to far in terms of seeing how big they could grow, causing the shoes to literally burst off of peoples feet. Some guy decided to sue them and made a huge profit, even though getting a chance to get one out of a hundred pairs of them that were invented and being a now 8 foot god shouldn’t have been payment enough.

“No way Arthur! These are my Adidas. You can get a pair when they launch in a few months.” He practically laughed under his breath. He knows I can’t afford a pair of those shoes, they are already retailing for pre-order for $2500. I watched as he twisted the knob, growing to a nice 6′8″ before getting dressed in his workout clothes to go hit the basketball court. He took off his shoes and put on an impressive pair of size 15 Nike’s on before leaving the locker room, tossing his Adidas in his locker and slamming it shut. “Catch you on the court dude, he walked off and left me alone to get dressed.

I sighed to myself, Pulling off my shirt, shorts, and boxers. I gave a tug on my 6 inch cock before pulling my jock strap out of my gym back and slipping it on. I readjusted my package before picking up my shorts that I had dropped on the floor to put back on.

To my surprise, I noticed the locker that Chad was using never actually closed all the way. It has been a while since he has been gone. I made a quick look around the room before pulling the door open and grabbing the shoes. “Fuck yes…” I whispered to myself, bringing the shoes up to my nose and taking a whiff from the inside of them. He must have not broke them in yet, they still smell new…

I myself wasn’t really a small guy. I stood about 5′6″ and weighed around 180lbs… But I needed to be bigger.

My hands shaking, cock throbbing in my jock, I placed my hand on the knob and turned it till it was at a size 8… I watched in amazement as the shoes shrank and then heard a Wallop of noise from outside, as I heard the noise of shoes screeching against the polished basketball court. It’s all true… He must of just shrunk, maybe doing a layup… or trying to dribble… he probably just fell on his ass and made a full out of himself.

I quickly pulled the shoes on my feet. I know at any moment, Chad would be coming through those doors, wondering what just happened. I stood up, bent down, and twisted the damn things till it hit Size 18…

“Oh FUCK!” I moaned as a wave of pleasure hit me, my body firing up a few inches. My muscles expanding to keep up in proportion. Then another wave fired through my body. My jock filling up more and more as it grew to epic sizes in the thin material used to just keep my junk in place as I worked out. Another… And another….

I watched the doors swing open, and in walks Chad. Still bent over, feeling the euphoric bliss wash over me as I hit 7′6″ and over 350lbs of muscle.

“Those are my shoes!” He had to hold up his clothes as he ran towards me. “Take them off!” I watched as he tripped, falling over his gym shorts and much larger shoes that he still tried to wear back into the locker room. He fell face first right between my legs as I watched his hand make contact with the knob, and send it flying towards 25…

I grinned, feeling the power begin to wash over me again… My cock already stuffed to the max in this tiny g-string of a jock… I hope it explodes with this next wave…

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coffee-n-some-cream · 2 years ago

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recipe book

The thunder and patter of rain against the window turned their little hotel room into a muffled cocoon of warmth. The yellow lighting of the bedside lamp and the quiet mutter of the TV lulled Casey as he sat and watched the storm clouds grow darker with nightfall.

He turned and looked at Raph. The turtle was sitting on the bed, his shell against the headboard, thumbing through the book he had salvaged from the abandoned lair. Casey watched him for a moment. His face, unmasked, was soft in the shadow of the lamp. But Casey could see the dread behind those tired eyes, the tight coil of worry that was pulling at his brow. Even when Raph’s face was calm, Casey could tell that he was upset from the ever-so-small wrinkle that formed on his brow.

Earlier, in the dim and mildewed remains of his old home, Casey practically had to guilt Raph into going back topside. He reminded the turtle that while Raph might be able to handle the oncoming torrents of rainwater, Casey wasn’t that strong of a swimmer. Raph had quickly shoved some things into his trench coat pockets and allowed Casey to drag him out of there. By the time they were climbing toward the manhole cover, the water reached past Raph’s chest.

When they got back to their hotel room, Raph was out of it, his eyes far away and glassy. So Casey got them both into the shower. He let steaming hot water pour over their tired muscles and scrubbed the sewer grime from Raph’s shell. Raph had let him, not saying a word.

Now, even though he was clean and dry, he still looked so far away. Casey went and sat on the bed in front of him, reaching out and gripping his ankle. “We’ll go back tomorrow when the storm dies down.” Raph’s eyes glanced up to meet his, and he offered a reassuring smile. “One of them had to think of it. Of you going back to find them one day. They must have left a clue somewhere. Directions. Something.”

Raph looked back down at the book and ran his thumb down the edge of the page. “If they had time to do that, why would they leave this behind?”

Casey looked at the book too. It had some water damage on the bottom half, causing the paper to wrinkle and the ink to smear, but he could tell it was pages and pages of handwritten instructions. As he tried to read the upside down writing, he realized that it was mostly written by one person, but that someone else had gone through and added little notes here and there. And the words themselves were a recipe.

“A family cookbook?” he guessed.

Raph nodded. “Even Don wouldn’t have left this behind. It was something from Dad that we actually used.” He flipped the page, and the next recipe had a little drawing on the side. He smiled briefly when he saw it. “When we were kids, Dad didn’t exactly have a lot of options for what to feed us. He was mostly picking through trash, stealing, scavenging. We didn’t know what we were missing, but he remembered what real, good food tasted like. So he did his best to do something with the stuff he found. Made these–” he gestured to the book “–shitty little recipes.”

Casey tugged on the book, and Raph let him turn it to get a better look. The ingredients had things like canned vegetables and beans, fast food remnants, wild mushrooms and flowers, even insects. A chunky, swirling hand made notes in the margins and added drawings for extra clarity.

“Even when we got older and started being able to get real food, real ingredients, we still craved this stuff. Just ‘cause, yanno, we ate it when we were toddlers.” He gestured at the added markings. “After Dad died, Mikey went through and made everything again. Added stuff as he went.”

With careful fingers, Casey flipped a few crinkling pages, his eyes scanning the careful penmanship and faded, yellowed paper. “Which one was your favorite?”

The corner of Raph’s mouth twitched up. He turned the pages back toward the beginning of the book until he landed on a four-ingredient recipe that was titled “Crunchy Stir Fry.” A note in red marker proclaimed the recipe “Raphie’s Fav!!!” As Casey read the instructions, he realized that it was basically diced cockroaches and seaweed fried in a pan.

He gave Raph a wide-eyed look, and the turtle laughed.

“Cockroaches?” Casey gestured to the book, incredulous. “You hate cockroaches!”

“Yeah, that’s the point. Eating them felt like a total power trip.” Raph’s smile was wide, and it warmed Casey’s chest. It had been a while since he had smiled. “Even though Dad was the one who caught and killed them.”

“And you guys still ate this? Even after you didn’t have to?”

“Yeah, when we were in the mood for it. Seaweed and cockroaches taste pretty good when you salt them and fry them in sesame oil.”

Casey gave him a scrunched up face just to hear him laugh again. They looked over the book for a while longer, Raph telling him stories about the first times they ate certain foods or when Mikey messed up the recipes while teaching himself to cook.

By the time the rain had tapered off and the sky had turned to a deep, inky black, Raph was curled on his side under the covers, fast asleep. Casey sat by the window again with the book in his lap, his thumb moving over the dips and rounds of the warped pages. He glanced at Raph’s sleeping form, then stood and pulled his hoodie on. He slung his golf bag around his shoulders and tucked the hockey mask into it just in case. Then he carefully slipped through the hotel window onto the fire escape and headed out into the rain-slicked New York streets.

The next morning, Raphael woke up to a strange but familiar scent filling the hotel room. He sniffed, trying to identify it, before blinking his eyes open and rolling over to see Casey standing in front of the kitchenette. He had pulled out the portable induction burner and was frying something in a pan.

“What are you doing?” Raph asked, his voice still thick and gravelly from sleep, his eyes squinting. The morning sky was dreary with clouds, but the light over the kitchenette was bright and warm.

“Uhh…” Casey said as his arm moved back and forth, pushing something around the pan. “Making you breakfast? I think?”

Raph blinked slowly. “What?” He rolled himself out of the bed, keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders to stave off the morning chill, and walked over to Casey. “Since when do you make me breakfast? You never…” His voice trailed off when he saw what was in the pan.

Casey looked at him, then at the food, then back at him. “Is it supposed to look like that?”

Raph nodded slowly, his eyes trained on the browning mixture of seaweed and chopped insects. “Uh, yeah. That’s what it looks like.”

“Okay, well. Your dad’s recipe didn’t say when it was done cooking, so. I think it’s done.” Casey flipped the burner off and lifted the pan, carefully guiding the food into two paper bowls. He stuck a spoon in each and lifted them, handing one to Raph. “Soups on.”

Raph slowly reached out to take the bowl. “Did you go out last night and forage seaweed and cockroaches?”

“Yeah,” Casey answered. “I got the oil and salt from a store, though.”

“So that you could make me Crunchy Stir Fry.”

“Yeah.” He poked at the food with his spoon. “I was kinda surprised that the seaweed was easier to find than the cockroaches, but… seaweed can’t run away from you, yanno?”

Raph’s eyes were wide and glowing from the kitchenette light. He stared at Casey like he was seeing him for the first time, and he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. Unbelievable. Casey Jones was literally unbelievable. He finally got it when people said they fell in love all over again.

Casey was looking between Raph and the food again, his face twisting nervously. “Are you gonna eat it, or…?”

Raph blinked, then took a large spoonful and shoved it in his mouth. It didn’t matter how it tasted. It could taste like actual shit for all he cared, he would tell Casey it was the best fucking thing he had ever eaten. But he didn’t need to. The moment the food was in his mouth, he was a little kid again, leaning against his dad’s leg as he ate out of a repurposed hubcap with his fingers. He was safe, he was full. And nothing could get him, not even the cockroaches. Because Dad had killed them.

Casey grinned as he watched Raph sigh and lean back against the counter, chewing slow and savoring the flavors. Then he swallowed and opened his eyes. “This is so good.”

“Tastes right?” he asked, delighted.

Raph pointed the spoon at him. “You are insane for doing this, by the way.” He took another bite.

When Casey did nothing but watch him with a dopey smile on his face, he paused and gave him a pointed look. Casey blinked at him. Raph looked at the bowl in Casey’s hands, then back up at Casey, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Daring him.

“Oh.” Casey looked down at his own portion. Why had he given himself a portion again? “Yeah.” No biggie, he thought to himself. He went out and caught these cockroaches, chopped them up, fried them, now he could damn well eat them. He was Casey fucking Jones.

Raph watched as Casey lifted his spoon and took a bite of the stir fry. The crunch of insect bodies and crispy seaweed between Casey’s teeth was the only sound in the room. He chewed, face completely and carefully blank. Then, he swallowed. And without a single change in facial expression, he said, “It’s good.”

Raph couldn’t hold in the snort of laughter. “You’re such a fucking liar.”

“No, it’s, uh.” Casey carefully tipped his bowl toward Raph’s so the stir fry began to fall out and into Raph’s portion. “It’s so fucking good and not gross as shit, babe. Your taste buds are not fucked up at all.”

Raph’s entire frame shook with laughter, and he pulled the bowl from Casey’s hands to set them both on the small countertop. Then he reached up, took Casey’s face in his hands, and kissed him. “Thanks, Case,” he murmured against his lips.

Casey wrapped long arms around Raph, pulling him closer and ignoring the taste of fried cockroach on his mouth. He kissed him once, twice, then pulled back to look at him. Raph’s eyes were affectionate, warm, a small smile still tugging at his lips. There was a slight pinch in his brow. Casey ran his thumb over it, trying to smooth it out.

“We’ll find them.” Casey’s breath puffed over Raph’s skin as he spoke. “I promised I’d bring you home, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Raph gripped handfuls of Casey’s hoodie and burrowed closer against him, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. Neither of them had been home since they were kids. Casey had dipped when he was sixteen, packing a duffel bag and refusing to spend one more night with his drunk of a dad. Raph had been taken, ripped from his family by people who treated him like an animal, like a monster. They were both untethered, lost.

People like that, Raph thought, had to find home where they could get it.

Backstory: Casey was part of a vigilante group busting mutants out of trafficking rings, and Raph was one of the mutants he busted out. They bond, fall in love, etc. Casey helps him get away from there and back to New York to find his family. But when they arrive, they find the lair run down, abandoned, and flooded.

AO3

this was written for the September writing prompts found here

#my writing #fandom writings #fanfiction #fanfic #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #raph #raphael #casey jones #rasey #angst

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foxsoulart · 1 year ago

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Tmnt February day 3! Prompt 'training'

Some writing this time instead of drawing, enjoy!

Leo had overdid it in training. Again.

Donnie was grumbling as he bound his brother's now sprained ankle. "Stupid- Should know better - reckless - unbelievable - thought you were smarter."

Leo winced as he tied the last bit, tightening it. Donnie glared up at him. "Serves you right. No training until this is healed up, and restrict movement until I say so. Got it?"

Leo nodded moving to stand up. "Whatever you say Don. You're the expert."

Donnie firmly grabbed his ankle, stopping him from moving. "I mean it Leo. If you overdue it while still injured, you could have permanent damage. And if you do, I will strap you to your bed and you will be stuck there until you die. Have I made myself clear?"

Leo nodded, silenced by his brother's intensity.

"Good. Mikey and Raph will help you with anything you need, I'm going back to my lab."

It had been about two weeks. Leo was bored, bored, bored; he needed to move. He had been tempted to sneak off, but his brothers were taking their job seriously and keeping him here, immobile. Raph and Mikey had each taken turns playing games with him and keeping him company. But he had been antsy for a few days now.

"Just light stretching? That can't hurt can it? Please?"

"No, Donnie was very clear in his instructions. And he hasn't cleared you yet."

"Uuuuuggggh." Leo flopped backwards. Expressing his frustration. Raph patted him sympathetically. "I know it sucks, but maybe now you won't overdue it again."

'Ouch, that was a poorly disguised jab at his self destructive behavior' Leo thought 'he's right though, I put myself here. Self care is not my forte'

"I know, I'll try not to."

Aaaand that's it! Thanks for reading, have a blessed day/night!

#tmnt #tmnt february #writing prompt #tmnt fic #leo tmnt #donnie tmnt #raph tmnt #mikey tmnt #leo overdoes it again #dude trains too hard #i like turtles mkay #mutant turtles

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ninjaneonleon · 2 years ago

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Honestly, Leo was in awe of all the other versions of his family scattered around the large arena. He was pretty sure he’d seen some of them that looked human—he wasn’t sure how that was a thing—he’d seen a few that looked to be different species of turtle, and somewhere across the arena he had seen a version of himself covered in bandages with a dead look in his eye. That guy scared him. He hoped they didn’t come face to face. Even so, this whole competition was so cool!

Donnie had ridden his robot horse in the last heat, and of course it had exploded right at the finish line. The Leo he’d been riding against apparently had fallen off just before the finish line, meaning the two turtles crossed the line together without their horses. Leo had suspected the other Leo had been a little ahead of his Donnie but it was decided to be a tie. He wasn’t sure what that would mean for his team but Leo was more than happy to keep mingling while he waited to find out.

He spotted the duo watching the heat from the other stand. An older Leo and an older Mikey. They weren’t the only two older versions around but for some reason, they stood out to Leo. Maybe because they had been cheering on their little Leo with so much enthusiasm.

Being the analyst he was, Leo decided to see what he could figure out about them. First thing to note: malnutrition. They hadn’t been eating well for a long while. It made them seem older than they first appeared, especially the older Mikey with his white tufts of hair sticking out a little crazily out the side of this head. Without the malnutrition factors, Leo would place them to be in their fourties.

Big Leo kept glancing around and Big Mikey was tense, his hands twitching and his body ready. Huh. Anxiety maybe? Or wait, no, PTSD of some description. They were used to being in high-stress environments and this inter dimensional silliness was setting them on edge.

That trauma idea was further backed up when Leo realized that Big Leo had a stump for an arm and that one of Big Mikey’s legs was a prosthetic. It was weird though. Leo hadn’t been able to tell it was fake.

Wait, he just saw the toes on the prosthetic wiggle when Big Mikey stretched.

No. Way.

Leo’s body reacted before he realized what he was doing. He zapped closer to the duo, waving his arms to get their attention so he didn’t spook them. “Hey! Hi! Can I talk to you guys for a sec?”

Big Leo blinked then shrugged, hopping easily down from the stands. Big Mikey just floated down easily. Leo knew that his Mikey would manage to get that kinda thing, being able to float, under control eventually.

“Hey, uh, Leo? How can we help?” Big Leo asked.

“Hi! I think your team is against my team,” Leo started, flapping his hands to try and keep his energy in check. “I just have a weird question. Can I see your prosthetic?” He looked at Big Mikey, eyes wide and excited.

The box turtle looked stunned for a second before shifting and showing off the metal leg. It seemed to be connected directly to the stump somehow and Leo noted how the ankle joint definitely wouldn’t move like that without input. Oh Pizza Supreme, it was just as he thought!

“This is amazing! Is it controlled by your muscular structure or your nervous system? Is it heavy? It can clearly take some abuse. It’s been through a lot but it’s still running so smoothly. Oh, is it powered through kinetics or does it have an internal power system?”

Leo’s questions were cut off by a small snort. “Since when can any Leo speak technobabble?” Big Mikey joked. Then he took a breath. “Let’s start at the beginning. I’m Angelo, he’s Leon. We’re from a Kraang timeline. That’s how we lost our limbs.”

“What’s a Kraang?” Leo asked with a frown. He didn’t miss how the older turtles’ eyes widened but that wasn’t important right now. “Tell me later. I just need to know how you guys did it! That level of integration with your prosthesis isn’t going to be viable for decades! Maybe even a century! It’s so smooth and behaving like a normal limb.”

“Well, our Donnie—”

“Oh, shoot, right. Hold that thought.” Leo turned and picked out where his Donnie, covered with soot and somewhat bruised, was standing. “Fizzy!” Leo called before zapping over, grabbing Donnie, and zapping back. “Sorry, I know my twin will want to hear this too. Please continue.”

“Nardo, what are you doing? I was waiting for the resul— Oh. Is that—”

“A fully integrated prosthesis with a full range of natural motion, seemingly controlled by a nervous system? Yes, I believe it is,” Leo said as cut Donnie off with a grin. “That’s why I brought you over here. Angelo and Leon were about to explain.”

“You have my interest. Please continue.” Donnie gestured to the two older turtles, leaning against Leo. There was a pause as Leon and Angleo studied him and his twin. Angleo opened his mouth to say something when a bell cut him off.

“Attention, please. All ties will now be resolved by the tied teams teaming up! The next round is karaoke so everyone rest your voices!”

“Guess that means we’re a team now.” Leon chuckled. “C’mon. Let me grab our Leo and his bros and you can grab your brothers, then we can all get some food while Angelo explains the prosthetic.”

Leo lit up. “Awesome! C’mon, Fizz, let’s go!”

———————

So this has my and @geniusbuilttm version of Leo and Donnie meeting @newellthedragon ‘s future Leo and mikey. Go check out her stuff, it’s super cool!

Vote for Surp-rise! And An Arm and a Leg in @tmntausummit !

#rottmnt #rottmnt competition #propaganda #fic writing #tmntausummit #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #surp rise!#an arm and a leg

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princesspuresarahk · 2 years ago

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ROTTMNT FanFic Lost and Found

by Bug and Queenie

Chapter 2:Hiking and a Boat ride!

There were lots of trees and so many things to see like different animals and plants and all types of new things they never saw before. Raph and Mikey were pointing at stuff, Leo was wandering away, Donnie was fiddling with his phone, not paying attention to nature, while the adults stayed in the back. Splinter was slowly chugging along, still yawning meanwhile Baron was looking at a map that April gave him. “Fascinating.” Baron said to himself. “Everybody stay together!!” April called back to everyone. “Especially you Leo!” "yeah I hear ya April I'm ri.." Leo muttered before bumping his head against a branch wild moss falling on his head as Muninn and Huginn giggled at the scene as Leo consciously backed away startled rubbing his poor nose that got bumped from the branch "ow! That hurt!"

He grumbled as the others couldn't help but laugh a little "especially when things happen like that" April commented "Plus you can get lost out here and it may look peaceful but there's dangerous out here that got to be cautious of, like that.." pointing to at what looked like a little log in the water that's suddenly blinked “Please! I’m not afraid I literally control it!” Baron said rolling his eyes as he made a single vein sprout out of the ground. “Umm did that log just blink?” Mikey said as he hid behind Raph. “Come oonnn… we'er the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! We literally took out the Shredder and the Krang! We can take on anything!” Leo said confidently as he stepped on the log’s head. “It’s probably just a dumb log anyway!” Suddenly they heard a low bellow coming from the log and from the looks of it it sounded irritated as it slowly rose its head giving Donnie and Leo the stink eye annoyed that it seemed to interrupt their nap as the juvenile alligator gave them another low bellow from its belly as if a warning.

“Uh oh…” Leo said as he started sweating. Then in a second the alligator started snapping at him, trying to bite off Leo’s ankle. “WOAH WOAH!!” Leo said as he jumping around trying to dodge the alligator’s bites. He immediately hopped onto land away from the beast then it sank back underwater. The brothers couldn’t help at Leo, he did put on quite a show. “Hey quit laughing at me!” Leo said blushing. “I thought we can ‘anything’~” Donnie said sarcastically with a smug smirk on his face. “Ay! That was VERY FEROCIOUS alligator! It NEARLY bit my legs OFF!” Leo yelled. He had to kick his leg to make sure it was still there. And yet to make his point using its tail flapped it in the air with a big splash soaking Leo and Donnie completely wet and causing Donnie's tech to go out shocking the purple band turtle. And yet the alligator wanted to make his point clear using its tail it flapped it in the air with a big splash soaking Leo and Donnie completely wet and causing Donnie's tech to go out shocking the purple band turtle“HEY!!” Both Leo and Donnie shouted at the alligator while Mikey and Raph laughed, at least they didn’t get wet or electrocuted. “I’m gonna make that bastard pay for destroying my phone!” Donnie said angrily, ready to fight the animal. “Donatello please don’t waste your breath on that thing,” Baron said rolling his eyes. “Yeah besides we don’t have our weapons.” Leo shrugged. “I TOTALLy would’ve shredded him I did!” He huffed, wishing he has his sword but left it at the house. come on you too let the gator be." April called out "we're almost to the surprise I have for y'all let's get going!" Continuing to walk as Mikey handed his brothers some beach towels from his bag to dry off "here you go Bros." To which they really appreciate as even though it's spring the water was still a bit cold as they drive themselves off with the warm rays of the sun warm up their skin and feel good against them.

Soon it wasn't long until April let them down a trail leading to a dock and on that dock where tour boats

“We here!” April called out the others. This is was just as beautiful as remembered. “Woah cool!” Three of the brothers said. “What? You…. Brought us here to fish?” Donnie asked as he raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t too impressed. “I agree. I thought there would be… more.” Baron added, he wasn’t impressed either. “That’s because we ain’t started the tour yet duh! Everyone get on the boat.” April said as she headed over to one.

Stepping on the green boat she called out "All aboard watch your step!" Walking over to the engine and controls. All of the others stepped on a boat. It started to rock when Raph and Baron got on cus of their massive weights and heights. “Ummm… you sure this boat can hold all of us?” Raph asked nervously as he looked down from the boat at the murky water.

"This boat's pretty strong and it held lot of big guys my uncle was one of them actually he ran this boat tour so we're pretty good."

“Oh sweet!” Raph said. Now he feels at ease and has nothing to worry about. “Come on! Let’s start the tour!” Splinter said eagerly and impatiently. After helping undocking the boat and April starting up the engine and controls they made out their way into the water as everyone either stood or that comfortably on the boat watching the scenery around them Mikey was taking pictures with his camera photographing everything and everyone "OHMeGosh it's so gorgeous out oh another gator! 'snap' ooh a wood stork! 'snap' Ooh look a red-cockaded woodpecker!'snap'" “Indeed. This trip is very… how do you say it? ‘Relaxing?’” Baron Draxum added. He feels very relaxed and calm with nature since he literally controls it and is in tune with it. “This is very relaxing. Aaah~ I could get used to this.” Master Splinter sighed as he relaxed on a lawn chair that was on a boat. Onward a slowly moved across the water enjoying the sites Huginn and Muninn noticed a tree covered in beautiful pink and white flowers quickly they fly to over to pick some sniffing them as they went back to the boat Huginn giving one to April "for you miss April!" Handing her the pretty flower 🪷 "Oh it's a magnolia how thoughtful Huginn thank you." She awwed giving the little gargoyle a kiss on the cheek while putting the flower in her hair causing Huginn to blush bashfully a little. “Heey!! I want some flowers too! 🥺” Mikey said with a quivering lip to the gargoyles. Meanwhile the other brothers were taking pictures of the beautiful tree and the beautiful scenery.

Splinter was napping and Baron Draxum was simply relaxing and admiring nature’s beauty. As Huginn quickly got some magnolias for everyone foliage and fauna became thicker and thicker as they charge deeper as the scenery became more wild and unfamiliar with which was secretly beginning to concern April surely this was one of the trails uncle gone on the tours though been a couple of years since she's been out here can change a lot out here Raph seem to notice it "hey y'all is it just me or just it seem to be getting a little darker with these trees?" Noticing the shadows becoming darker with the tree line aboveEveryone else agreed and noticed things started to look a lot more spookier and more unsettling. What happened to the beautiful scenery that were at just a second ago? “Ummm April? You sure going the right way?” Donatello asked. “What happened to all the color?! ” Mikey shouted. Even in the sky clouds seem to be coming in and the scent of rain was in the air "I truly don't know Donnie this place is really unfamiliar it's like running really old part of the swamp.?" Baron could agree he could tell that these plants and trees had some ancient life in them and that unknown history happened in them, suddenly he felt a raindrop hit his nose causing it to twitch instantly another one came and another then it was starting to sprinkle.

“Aaah! It’s raining! Everyone take cover!” Mikey shouted as everyone ran underneath the hood of the boat to stay dry. Suddenly Master Splinter was abruptly awakened by the rain. “Hey! Where did the sun go?” Splinter said as he ran to where everyone else was to stay dry.

"looks like we better head out" pro commented heading to the controls to turn on the boat but when she tried turning the key the engine wouldn't start so as it made sounds of struggle "what the..?" She asked turning the key again trying to encourage it to start "ah come on baby come on don't fail me now?" But for some odd reason the motor wouldn't budge suddenly a flash of sparks came from the engine a pop popping sound came within soon smoke emerged from the engine as it suddenly went dead on them and not also that the rain was causing the boat to drift deeper into the bayou "oh you got to be kidding me?" April groans worry in her voice "my uncle told me she was working just fine must be something got loose, maybe it's the oil?" Rubbing her temples she turned to the others "bad news guys it seems the engine and motor went kaput! She won't start up."

“Uh oh! Looks like the boat went kapluey!” Mikey said. “So what? We stuck now? In the rain?!” Leo shouted. “‘Fraid not, my dear brothers. Step aside April I’ll fix this baby and we’ll be out in no time.” Donnie said as she lightly pushes April out of the way and opened up the engine to fix it. Luckily he bought some of his gadgets along with the trip and his trusty techy battle shell. He don’t go anywhere without it.

"Man talk about cowa-bummer." Raph grumbled as did the rest . While Donnie went to work fixing the engine with April, the turtles Splinter, Baron and the little gargoyles try to keep themselves busy for the next couple of hours Splinter decided to go back to sleep in Dreamland with Huginn and Muninn joining him, Baron did some meditation while looking out into the swamp once in awhile as the begins to set Leo Mikey and Raph try to pass the time playing goldfish making interesting by betting on their snacks they brought along "alright I'll beat you this time Mikey for sure to win I'm betting on my gold fishy crackers and chocolate cream puff pies to prove it!" Raph challenge putting bags of golden fish crackers and chocolate mini pies on a pile of two bags of cookies granola bars, potato chips, bottles of water and three soda pops.

“Oh yeah? Well I’m going all in too!” Leo added as he pushed all of his snacks forward, he putting everything on the table and betting all of it. “Mikey! You go better all in too!” Leo pointed to him. “And don’t be a wuss! ” He added. “Fine fine!” Mikey shrugged off. He didn’t want to but he’ll go all in too. All the chips were down, who will come out on top?! A little loud pop came from the engine as they turn to look to see Don giving a small grin "I think I got her going if we go very slow we should be able to get back according to my calculation." He tried to make it sound positive but it still had April concerned "I hope you're right Donnie, all right I hope this works like Donnie said we're going to take it nice and slow." Gently turning on the engine it let out a soft purr “That’s totally fine! We got all the time in the world!” Raph said with a wide smile. “Not me! I’m booored! When will something exciting finally happen?!” Leo whined as he laid back on his shell looking up at the sky. “Have patience my young grasshopper. Good things will come to those who wait… and nap.” Master Splinter said before immediately falling back to sleep.

Draxum got up to stretch after meditating as he looked around he noticed a large branch and after measuring it he believed it could come in handy in case the motor died on them.

Using his tremendous strength he tore the old branch off and carefully testing into the water it seemed to hold as he called out to April "April I will assist in the back of the boat in case we get stuck again I found some wood that can be of use for a raft to help get us through."

April is grateful for that "thanks Barry that will come in handy I should have thought of that before." Soon the boat was slowly moving through the water trying to get through the big trees and tangled fauna through the swamp Baron pushed the back and swiped the vines away, Huginn and Muninn who woken up from their nap later on help their boss with the un-tanglement "man I never seen so much this it's so wild and thicc." Huginn commented as he help in untangled a branch that was stuck on the roof of the boat "we must be somewhere deep in the wilder areas and to be honest I never seen this part of the storm before I don't recognize any familiar markings or areas."April replied it was really beginning to concern for her now getting lost in the swamp was dangerous they can be hard to find your way out of it if you don't know you're going. Plus out here in the dark it was even creepier then in the daytime it was darkness that they were not used to back in New York. As they continue going through the water the surroundings before them seem to get darker by the thickness of the trees above causing Leo and Mikey to slightly shiver in creepiness.

“Guys… is it me or is the forest getting even creepier?” Mikey shivered and trembled in place as he held Leo close. He wasn’t a big fan of scary places. “Relaaax! It’s just tiny little forest! What’s the worst that can happen?” Leo said confidently. Usually things go wrong whenever he says that. A sudden bat screech echoed out from the darkness making both turtles jump "light I need light someone turn on the light!" Mikey pleaded as Raph lit up some more lanterns by that time Splinter, Huginn and Muninn jumped in fright of the strange noise while Draxum looked stoically out into the darkness dark orange eyes glowing a deep ember from the lantern light

"What! what was that!?"Leo Called out looking around cautiously his senses on high alert.

“I don’t know but everyone stay on your toes!” Raph as he hovered around the others. As big brother and the leader, it’s his role to protect his team and family so he gets in front of everyone so they can take cover behind him. As everyone kept their guard up April began to notice something just out of reach from the lights distance but it was hard to tell due to the shadows in the darkness especially as they got closer her big eyes widen in curiosity and confusion was that.. was that an old building?

End of Chapter:2

stay tuned for Chapter:3 Dark Discovery and Secrets

credit to the beautiful Queenie aka https://www.tumblr.com/celestialcreativity for being a part of this Fanfic

#rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #tmnt au #tmnt oc

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