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#but a cracked rib would be a cracked plastron
iztarshi · 1 year
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This is so nitpicky. But.
Turtles do not have ribs, the ribs are what fuses together to make the shell. Even mutant turtles should not have ribs unless they somehow have matroyshka skeletons.
Can these guys please stop getting rib injuries every other fic?
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bossidiotart · 3 months
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Me: man, I wish rottmnt fanfic writers would write in a cat sleeping next to Leo when he’s healing from his wounds after the movie :/
Also me: wait….I’m a rottmnt fic writer…..
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Leo did not want to be awake. Awake meant pain, it meant uncomfortable bandages, stiff joints and muscles. It meant a groggy mind from painkillers that should be saved for those who need them most. Yet here he is, pain dully throbbing almost everywhere on him, his eyes dry, body achy and stiff. Not to mention the chill that told him he’s definitely in the med bay. One thing, however, that he didn’t expect was a soft, hot patch snuggled between his left arm and side.
He cracked his eyes open and moved his head as much as he could, blinking a few times to register what’s there. A soft smile spread on his sore face. The unmistakable black and white came into focus, a little pink nose standing out from it. Leo lifted his right arm as best he could and stroked its head.
“Hey, Snuffy,” he cooed in a hoarse whisper.
Mr. Snuffles stirred and stretched his legs. He twisted a bit while leaning into Leo’s bandaged fingers. Leo huffed and flinched when his ribs protested.
“You keeping me from getting up, buddy?” A low rumble emitted from Snuffy’s body. He’ll take that as a yes. “Clever kitty.”
He gently pushed the cat’s head closer to him as he bent his head down to plant a smooch on his head. The purring grew louder. Snuffles tilted his head up, and Leo took advantage to scratch under his chin.
“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he croaked. “I shouldn’t be moving this much.” Mr. Snuffles doesn’t care. He’s getting attention and that’s all that matters. Leo winced as his body protested the movements and kept petting him. “Worth it.”
Mr. Snuffles stood and arched his back. His body trembled from it.
“Big stretch,” Leo instinctually commented. Mr. Snuffles turned around and flopped onto his shoulder. He licked Leo’s cheek, his rough tongue scratching his skin. “Aww, thanks, bud. I love you, too.”
Snuffy dropped his head and snuggled into his neck. Leo smiled, gently dropping his own head onto the cat’s and closed his eyes. He breathed in a sore breath; he slowly let it out through his mouth while focusing on Mr. Snuffles’ purring. They stayed like that for a whole three seconds before Snuffles moved his head to lick his fur.
“Come on, man, you’re ruining my focus.” The feline, of course, did not care. He just went on cleaning himself. Leo chuckled; a cough shook his frame, and he turned his head away as more ripped out of him. Mr. Snuffles let out a concerned meow, stood and pressed his body against Leo’s head. His purring amped up some as he licked at Leo’s sweating head.
“Snuffy—“ Leo’s voice strained between coughs. “Gross!” He took in deep breaths as the coughing died down. His ribs hurt worse now. His body’s uncomfortably hot. Damn it…that’s the last thing he needs after waking up. A goddamn infection.
A wall of black and white fur obscured his vision and got in his mouth. Leo pulled his head back and spat out the fur.
“Snoofle, please, I’m trying to cough my lungs out.” The cat paid no mind as he settled himself on Leo’s chest. He loafed himself and closed his eyes. A gentle purr vibrated through Leo’s bandaged plastron. He rested a hand on Mr. Snuffles’ back and laid his head back against the pillow.
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airheartz · 6 months
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Leo's injuries in my fic I'm making
Over 35 injuries (my boy's going through it 😞)
*All recovery times will be less than stated, due to Leo’s mutant healing factor. 
Ruptured eardrum. Will heal within 3 - 6 weeks. Take antibiotics + ear drops.
2. Scrapes on feet.
3. Bruising on tailbone + lower back. Recovery time: 4 - 6 weeks.
4. Skidded knees.
5. Bloody nose.
6. Bruised face.
7. Scratched arms, legs, hand, knees, and plastron.
8. Scraped Shell + Arms.
9. Broken Ankle (Lateral malleolus fracture). This is the most common type of ankle fracture. It is a break of the lateral malleolus, the knobby bump on the outside of the ankle (in the lower portion of the fibula). Recovery time: 8 weeks. Boot for the last 5.
10. Cuts and scrapes on the left side of the body, bruising from around there.
11. Broken ribs on his left. Recovery time: 6+ weeks.
12. Bruising surrounding said ribs.
13. Mild bruising and scratching on shoulder.
14. Black eye.
15. Dented top-middle shell. 
16. Concussion from whiplash.
17. Shell punctures from claws and surrounding cracks.
18. Broken shell. Recovery time: 1+ yrs. Drill small screws into the shell on either side of the fracture and then wrap wire around the screws, tightening the shell down almost like opposing tissue during suturing. Apply fiberglass patch and resin. Wrap with sterile gauze to help stabilize any broken shell pieces that may be present. 
19. Fractured clavicle (collarbone). Recovery time: 6 - 8 weeks. Sling. 
20. Fractured temporal skull. Recovery time: 5 - 7 weeks.
21. Broken femur (thighbone). Recovery time: 4 - 6 months.
22. Punctured lung. Recovery time: 6 - 8 weeks. 
23. Neck bruising.
24. VERY skinned knees and lower legs.
25. Back of arms + shell got cut by claws.
26. Broken humerus (upper arm bone). Recovery time: 4+ months. Needs  temporary splint extending from the shoulder to the forearm and holding the elbow bent at 90 degrees.
27. Broken scapula (shoulder blade). Recovery time: 6-12 weeks. Needs short-term immobilization along with motion exercises to prevent adhesive capsulitis, also called frozen shoulder.
28. Fractured vertebrae. Recovery time: 3+ months. Would need a brace, but with his shell, it won't happen.
29. Fractured orbital bone (eye socket). Recovery time: 3+ weeks. 
30. Pneumothorax (collapsed lung). Recovery time: 1 - 3 weeks. Needs chest tube (but how will THAT work?).
31. Bruised liver (minor). Recovery time: 1 - 2 weeks.
32. Stomach bleed. Will lead to vomiting blood, yay.
33. Fractured sternum (breast bone). Recovery time: 6 weeks. Sternal injuries can usually be treated conservatively involving rest, restrictions of activities and painkillers, or occasionally through some form of intervention including targeted physical therapy.
34. Mild brain bleed. Recovery time: 6+ months. Surgery needed to drain blood from the brain Draining the fluid that surrounds the brain creates room for the hematoma to expand without damaging brain cells. Drugs are used to control blood pressure, seizures or headaches. Burr hole surgery is the main treatment for subdural hematomas that develop a few days or weeks after a minor head injury (chronic subdural hematomas). During the procedure, one or more small holes (the size of dimes) are drilled in the skull and a flexible rubber tube is inserted to drain the hematoma. Will drain within 2 - 3 days.
35. Second degree burns on his front. Recovery time: 1 - 3 weeks. Treat with antibiotic cream and wrap if the skin is raw, if the blisters open, or if there is risk of infection.
Homeboy will also deal with some other stuff, see my other post about it.
Credit to bellflowering and her ROTTMNT injuries masterpost!
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soniclozdplove · 1 year
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Inspired by @toothlesshat Future Leo au
Warning: brief summary of injuries that may be considered somewhat explicit, nothing particularly gory tho
Raph held his brother's close, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs of relief. It's over, the Krang is gone! Leo is alive and he's here in his arms, safe! He felt Mikey sagging against him, exhausted form the damn near miraculous feat he had pulled. The snapper brought his arm around the youngest, pulling him closer and ignoring the criss cross of fresh burns up his arm. He wasn't sure how Mikey did what he did or what happened to let him and Donnie share the burden with him... but he wasn't going to worry about it. Not when it gave them Leo back and the slider was resting, curled up in the crook of his arms.
Glancing down, Raph had to suppress a growl as he took in his brother's injuries. That thing had been cruel on the short time that Leo was trapped there with it, and he unconsciously snapped his beak at the though of the monster that did this to his brother.
Leo's shell was cracked, almost shattered really, and many lines criss crossed and chipped along his plastron and carapace, barely avoiding his vertebrae. His shallow breathing rattled and there were no doubt several broken bones, many of them ribs, that would need tending to along with lacerations, particularly along the leg the Krang had managed to grab before Donnie had come in clutch with that mystic drill. His lime scales were starting to discolor to an ugly purple and yellow at a rapid pace as bruising set in, particularly on his brother's face which has a swollen eye and what looked to be a broken jaw. That's just what Raph could see from the outside, never mind the myriad of internal injuries his brother probably has, not to mention mental scars from being beaten to the brink of death!
He had passed out shortly after his joke about being in Staten Island, and Raph couldn't blame him at all as he sounded so weak even as he complained about the infamous city. Donnie was sitting in the outskirts of the family hug, not comfortable with affection but determined to join in for the sake of his twin, before he suddenly let out an actual gasp and jumped up.
"We need to call Aprir, Papa, and Casey! They... they don't know..." Donnie trailed off, glancing down at Leo's sleeping face before finishing in a softer tone, "They don't know he's safe."
Right, Dad probably... probably wasn't in a good place right now. Not if he heard what Leo said over the com and saw what happened to the alien spaceship. Raph cleared his throat.
"R-right. Donnie can... can you call them? Mike isn't in any state to use his phone and-" He paused, the words 'don't want to let Leo or Mikey go in fear that they'll disappear the moment he did' remained unsaid. In an uncharacteristic show of empathy, Donnie nodded and stepped away to make the call, staying in sight of the snapper but allowing him the privacy to gather himself. His brother's need him to be strong right now, they're all injured and someone has to be the big brother and protect them until Dad and April get here. The call was brief, Donnie explaining that Mikey had gotten Leo back but in critical condition and that they were in Staten Island before handing up the call and returning to the hug.
None of them spoke a word until ten minutes later the screeching of tires reached them and a jeep that the others had acquired somewhere, likely from some poor sap, skidded to a stop in front of them. April opened the driver's side, eyes wild as she unhooked herself and all nut flew to her brothers' sides, gasping at the sight of them. CJ was quick to join them, having been picked up along the way and clinging to one of Leo's katana like a lifeline,
"Sensei! Is... is he...?"
"He's okay, kid." Raph choked out, voice heavy with emotion, "Michael got him, but..."
He cut himself off, unable to voice it. Instead he shifted, showing the boy the precious life in his hands. CJ sucked in breathe, eyes darting over the injuries of the unconcious turtle before hardening into a familiar look of determination, one Raph has seen on Leo's face many times. He opened one of his many pouches and pulled out a scratched and banged up medkit, a familiar image to Raph even with the obvious wear and tear on it. Leo had that exact same one in near mint condition, bought just a few months beforehand when his old one was destroyed in the fight against Shredder. CJ must have inherited it from the Leo he had known.
"Raphael, I need you to support his head while I look at his injuries." CJ's tone was serious, directing the turtle with ease and sounding very much like Leo did whenever he treated their injuries, "Is there anything like a tarp or something we can lay out so he doesn't have to directly touch the ground?"
Raph instinctively jumped to follow CJ's command, years of experience with Leo telling him that hesitation was not and option. The kid had clearly learned more than just ninjitsu from his younger brother. Donnie found an old tent in the trunk of the jeep that they could lay out, Raph silently apologizing to whoever the owner was. With Raph helping CJ, Splinter got to work tending to Mikey's hands and April pulled Donnie aside to look at his shell. The two were clearly looking for a distraction and neither turtle was going to argue the fact with Leo as injured as he is.
Once he was stable, Raph prepared to move him to the jeep before he heard Mikey, who had gone to the edge of the island to look over the damage to the city across the way, let out of shout,
"What the shell!? Uh... guys!? I... I think there's a guy drowning down there! He's not moving!"
Raph grimaced, with Donnie'a shell a bloody mess, Leo unconcious, and Mikey jot being the strongest swimmer that left thin at the only turtle capable of doing an aquatic based rescue. He didn't want to have to let Leo go so soon, but if someone was frowning he had to help. Glancing at Donnie helplessly, the softshell let out an exaggerated sigh and held out his arms, gently taking his twin and holding hin close in a manner that told the eldes their loner of a brother wasn't nearly as bothered about holding on to Leo as he pretended to be. Trusting that Donnie would bite someone's hands off before letting anyone near Leo, Raph and CJ went to where Mikey was staring in horror over the edge. The moment they looked to see this "drowning person" however, Raph's heart skipped a beat and CJ let out a choked cry.
The person was clinging to the rocks with a mechanical prosthetic, presumably unconcious although Raph couldn't see his face. One thing was certain, however, that was no human. He looked to be about the same size as Raph, although distance made perspective hard to tell, and he had a darker tone to his lime colored scales with familiar markings along his flesh arm, what little Raph could see of it over the long blue scarf and mask tails drifting in the water, and a shell with a very familiar pattern on his back. He was a turtle, and based on what he can see that person could only be...
"M-Master... Leonardo!?"
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peach-jelly-lemon · 2 years
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Assuming the ‘Leo is the medic’ thing, after the movie Donnie would have to do most of the healing because now he has the a) steadiest and b) smallest hands of the rest of them. Except that Donnie is also the most squeamish around blood/injuries. 
Description of everyones injuries and also some hcs I included in this under the keep reading cut
Mikey: The lacerations up to his shoulders from the mystic portal, and some random cuts and bruises from being knocked around. 
Problems: Shaky and painful arms, so can’t cook/draw/lift much, etc. Physically will heal in about 2 weeks but Im not even gonna try to figure out mystic injuries. The shakiness, if it doesn’t go away, will eventually be mitigated enough that he can draw again.
Donnie: Lacerations from helping Mikey up to the middle of his right forearm, heavier bruising from being knocked around, and lots of small cuts/holes in his shell from where the krang computer entered. 
Problems: Pretty much everything would heal in about 2 weeks, but if the shell gets infected that will be very dangerous. Also he is taking care of himself last.
Raph: Injured/black eye, hole in shell from protecting Leo, bruises and cuts all on the right side where the krang infested.
Problems: Bruises and cuts heal after 3 weeks or so, but there’s a permanent hole in his shell. If either the eye or shell get infected, that’s really dangerous as well.
Leo: Broken right ankle, broken hip, broken right forearm, cracked shell, three broken ribs which they figured out by the bruised plastron, general neck injury, random cuts and bruises, black eye. 
Problems: Somehow not much unless the shell gets infected or he exacerbates other things by trying to move around. Biggest issue is nobody can do anything about the broken ribs because casting makes them worse, so he has to just lay still for 6 weeks and hope they form right. 
HCs: Raph is 17 in the movie, so after it, he starts the last growth spurt and gets mystic spots. Donnie and Leo are just starting to get theirs and it’s very faint. Also, I give the turtles tails.
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[Mikey's breath hitches. Once, twice, three times in a row, and he chokes on the air in his lungs.]
[He stares unbelievingly at the explosion of color in the sky, and in any other situation would have thought it pretty. Every colour he can think of pluming out in every direction, a wave of wind and energy so powerful he even gets a hint of it all the way out here. The official end of the fight for their planet, the definitive sign that New York was saved, the cause for cheers filling the streets and what should have been hope for their future flooding his chest.]
[Instead something he didn't even realize was there is gone, leaving a gaping, aching cavity behind, and space for his heart to drop into the pit of his stomach. The tangy, energized, emboldened, and comforting presence he had been connected to as long as he could remember...]
[He hears Raph drop to his knees, Donnie turn around and sniffle. And there's a pang in his chest so strong it physically hurts, sending shocks down his arms and spine.]
[Casey said he was a mystic warrior. Casey said he could create portals.]
[He clenches his fists, then sticks out his hands, straining with everything he can muster. He reaches, stretches, digs around in that familiar well of power, his ninpo, searching for the broken tether, begging, pleading, whimpering, crying-]
"Mikey. It's over," [Raph says.]
[Somehow, Raph's words only fuel him on, conviction gripping his heart. He shakes his head and looks dead ahead, visualizing that broken tether and- and what Leo feels like, what Leo means to him, what Leo should be there for tomorrow, and the next day, and for years to come.]
"Leo never gave up on us. I'm not giving up on him."
[And there's a spark. Fire igniting in his chest, determination steeling his gaze even through the tears, and magic surging through his veins, from his very core into his ribs, up his shoulders, down his arms, buzzing restlessly in his fingers out to his fingertips and then-]
[BURSTING gold light crackles in the air only a few feet in front of him, ripping through a barrier he wasn't aware was there. Space and reality condense in the very fibers of his being as he wrenches them aside, and he can feel them, tense and slippery, hard to grasp, fighting against his control. It's unlike anything he's ever felt, powerful and grander than he will ever be able to comprehend as he literally bypasses the impassible to get to his brother.]
[And then there's searing pain. Power no one should truly have over something bigger than anyone can ever be, breaking out and stealing away at him. Light spilling between cracks that race up his arms, which flake away to give way to more light.]
[For some reason, he knows what happens next. His shoulders tense in preparation for the hands coming to rest there, the familiar comforts of his older brothers coming to be his stabilizers, to relieve him of some of the ravenous power burning away his life, to help him hold onto control over those slippery, dangerous, prodigiously huge things keeping them from their missing piece.]
[They never come.]
[Mikey glances left and right, confused, and sees nothing but a dark, empty landscape. Concentration broken, his mystic grip slips.]
[The portal collapses on itself, disappearing with a zap just as Mikey thought he caught a glimpse of Leo on the other side.]
[There's a snap in his chest as that connection is severed all over again, and it hurts worse the second time. He collapses, clawing at his plastron and choking like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He cries out as the action agitates the horrible, burning lines drawn up his arms, and watches with despair as little flakes of gold flutter to the ground in front of him.]
"No. No, no, no, no, NO-"
[It's too late.]
~~~
[Mikey gasps sharply and pushes himself up, as though bursting through the surface of water. He swallows down lungful after lungful of air, not quite able to get enough.]
[He's shaking, cold, sweaty. Mouth dry, throat tickling, bones aching. His- his arms hurt, his fingers burn, and he rubs at them with an exaggerated shudder.]
[It takes him a moment but he realizes all at once that he's in Leo's room, and the air is still.]
[It was a dream.]
[A nightmare.]
[He takes a deep, relieved breath, coughing, a little raggedly, as he exhales.]
[For a minute, he just watches Leo, beside him. Watches him breath. He's alive. He's there, with him, right there. But something about the way Leo looks... unsettles him, and he isn't sure why. Unconsciously, he finds himself feeling around with his ninpo-]
[What?]
[-until he recognizes and latches onto Leo's. He doesn't know what to do once he does, so he just sits and familiarizes himself with it, finding it a little bit off as well.]
[Vaguely he wonders if he should go check on Raph, Toby, and Donnie. And maybe Dad, just to be safe.]
[...but ultimately he knows he's just being paranoid, and it's a little extra cold compared to usual outside his brother's arms, he thinks.]
[After some time, he lays back down, curling his arms up against his chest between him and Leo, and falls back asleep.]
[The rest of his slumber is eerily dreamless.]
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skylerskyhigh · 1 year
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Sneak Peek Chapter 5 of "Your Identity"
(I'm still dealing with some stuff but here's a little sneak peak of the next chapter)
Running.
He's running fast.
His steps are light and silent but occasionally he would stumble and fall. 
His hand reached out to grab the rough surface of- of something. A vibrant wall. A piece of broken scorched rubble. Grey debris in a monochrome cold wasteland. 
He pushes himself off, stumbling as his knees threatened to crumble. Too small. Too big. His body feels wrong.
Run. He needs to run. They'll find him. They'll catch him. They'll kill him.
He needs to keep running. Stumbling. He's running with too numb yet pained legs. His vision sways as he takes too big or small steps and nearly loses his balance multiple times. He uses his limbs but they feel too short/long. 
Pushing himself up, he stumbles at the forceful push against a body too small for the amount of energy he used. Still, he balanced himself and ran. His eyes squinted against the darkness as he runs. It's so dark. Dark and cold.
His heart is beating so loud against his chest, knocking against his plastron. 
His breaths came in rapid gasps as he sprints on aching legs. His knee twinge painfully with pain that feels like it should be debilitating. Like his knee has been snapped out of place. The flesh had been ripped apart into a mess of tattered muscles and blood. But it isn't, though it feels that way. Like a pain that isn't actually there. There but not. An invisible pain. A phantom pain.
Everywhere on his body hurts like that. Everywhere hurts with various pains that feel like they should be there but are not. 
His carapace hurts like it had been broken. He could feel a spiderweb of cracks running across his shell starting from the middle. A crack that is dangerously close to breaking his spine. 
His neck and shoulder burn and he could almost feel some kind of warm liquid pouring down from his throat. Like the flesh had been torn apart and his throat had been crushed. He would choke if he focused too much on that phantom pain. Like he couldn't properly breathe as his throat is crushed.
His plastron is the same, coupled with the phantom pain of broken ribs. The pain nearly tricks him into believing each shaking breath he took would cause pain. That his chest has been caved in and pieces of his ribs are broken and pointed into his organs. That one wrong breath would stab the bones and puncture his lungs. If he thought about it too much he could almost feel his insides burn. 
His right shoulder burns like a fire scorching through the flesh down to the bone. Everything past his shoulder is frighteningly cold and numb. Like there's nothing there. He couldn't feel his arm. But every time he looks down, he can see his arm. But the numbness is so profound and deep that he would think he has no right arm. 
Choking on his own blood. 
His arms. His legs. His chest. His head. Everywhere is just a mess of pains overlapping each other. Some feel fresh while others feel old. But they're not real. 
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n30n-le0n · 10 months
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💔
💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely
"gAH. SHIT FFFFF--"
Even a month or so after the Krang invasion, Leo was still on...well. Loosely defined bed rest. The cracks in his shell and plastron would need time to heal, and the broken ribs needed time to knit back together, and the broken bones needed to stay set before he did any strenuous activities. He knew that, deep down, as the team's medic. He wasn't about to start pushing it.
So why did the very act of even slightly moving around have to hurt so much? Why did it have to sting at some deep part of him whenever he took a breath that was a little too deep, or moved his limbs a little too fast?
And why couldn't he just be with his brothers, instead of being subjected to the whims of his stupid, broken body?
He could hear his brothers, dancing around and having fun, who had recovered from their injuries so much faster than he had. Could hear them fighting over the TV remote from the other room, try as they might to be quiet for his sake. And before he knew it, Leo found tears springing to his eyes the longer he sat there and forced himself to listen.
That could have been him with them right now. Having fun. Enjoying himself. Instead he was some hurt, broken, pitiful thing right now. All because he'd fucked up badly enough to think throwing himself into the ring with a monster was the only way to fix things. All because he'd caused this entire situation in the first place. All because he had nobody but himself to blame.
Leo rolled back over as gingerly as possible then, curling up into a ball while trying to stifle the sounds of his quiet sobs into one hand.
His brothers were just in the other room, and yet he'd never felt so alone.
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Aftermath [One-shot] [Featuring my OCs] [RotTMNT Movie]
So, I know I should wait til I’ve done all the Rise series, or at least the movie, but I just cann’t help it! 
The Rise Movie is still giving me brain-rot, so here we go! 
In case you are new, I made a bio for my OCs, Asami and Lupa Hamato! If you have questions, the bio should answer them, but if not, feel free to ask! :)
I would like to take a moment and tag @fluidfoxwritting123​ since they have been super supportive of my girls! 
I hope this isn’t too confusing! ^.^’ 
Again, please let me know if you guys have questions! *thumbs up*
Last thing I’m going to say is, if you like my writing, please consider buying me a ko-fi, or if you want, you can continuously support me writing stories by joining my Patreon!
(P.S: ‘Ane’ is Japanese for big or older sister. Asami likes using just a little Japanese after finding out her human DNA is Japanese. The others like making her happy so they use it like a nickname.)
God Bless and Good Day! 
~The Lupine Sojourner
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It’s hard, staying awake after such an intense few days, but I don’t have a choice. 
My brother and future self need my help. I have to monitor Big Me’s ribs and shoulder, plus Leo’s shell came this close to cracking all the way through from whatever the Kraang did to him in that prison realm. 
Understandably, neither of them wanted to talk about their time in that other realm, the memories too fresh. 
From what I’m seeing, though, I know whatever was done to them was meant not only to hurt, but also to kill, and kill slowly. The Kraang wanted to draw out killing them, to make them suffer until the end.
Of course, I didn’t dare say that out loud. Because that would make it too real. 
So I bandage their gashes, stitch Big Me’s shoulder again, set a few ribs and patch Leo’s plastron as best I could, and then I sit and monitor them quietly. They were unconscious, unable to stay awake even the short time it took to get back to the Lair. I had looked them over for signs of concussion and hadn’t seen any, so I let them sleep. They’d need a lot of rest to recover for this... 
The others come drifting in and out to get their surprisingly few and minor injuries looked at. 
There was no sign of Mikey’s mystic strain except a small tremor in his hands and a feverish warmth to his skin. If either of those symptoms would go away was anyone’s guess, but for now, I wrapped his hands to stabilize them, had him drink some ice water, and gave him a big hug. 
Lupa, who'd stayed with April, Casey, and Dad, had been smacked around pretty good, so she needed some pain meds and a few minor bandages, but all in all she got off easy. 
Donnie, fortunately, did not have any marks or lasting effects from his time connected to the Kraang Technodrome, but he nearly refused to let me touch his shell, flinching away, eyes wide in fear, before his brain registered that it was me and he calmed down. All I needed was a few small touches to ensure there were no signs of damage before I cleared him. There weren’t any serious injuries on him, thank God.
Casey, thanks to his armor, had little to nothing physically wrong with him, but he kept asking about Leo and Big Me, which wasn’t helping anything. I told him again and again they would be ok, that they just needed to rest, but it seemed like this poor kid expected them to…you know. 
I eventually convinced him by letting him listen to Leo’s strong heartbeat with a stethoscope. He sat there for what felt like a long time, just listening, before he quietly asked to do the same for Big Me. I let him, and it was another few minutes before he stood and slowly walked out, casting several glances over his shoulder.
Raph’s eye showed no damage from the strange mutation he had endured. Not physically, anyway, but I could tell by the way he hesitated to touch anything, to look his brothers in the eye or scoop them up in a hug like he normally would, that the experience had not left him unscathed. 
This whole situation had been even worse than the Shredder. 
When Leo and Big Me were in the prison realm…it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I’d begged Leo to portal us up, to do anything but what he was about to do, but he only asked Casey again to close the portal, begging the poor kid to finish the fight. And just like that, Casey grabbed the Key and the Technodrome was no more. 
It was gone, but the victory felt worse than fighting the Kraang.
I thought for sure I’d lost them for nearly 25 agonizing minutes until Mikey pulled that miraculous mystic stunt to get them back. 
My heart stopped when I saw those yellow cracks on his hands, and it started to shatter when I saw the pain in his eyes at the new sensation. Holding back tears, I’d instantly run to him, right alongside Raph and Donnie. We all shared the burden of creating such a portal, and it worked…somehow. 
Somehow, we had defied all odds and rescued our siblings without re-releasing the Kraang. I still can’t believe how well this whole thing went, all things considered. 
This very easily could’ve devolved into history being made worse with Raph’s capture and the Technodrome being brought in from the prison realm, but somehow we still clung to any scrap of hope we could find and kept fighting and that led to…this. 
This moment, watching my future self and my little brother breathing. Maybe not breathing easy, but the point is they’re here and they’re alive. That in and of itself is a miracle. 
I don’t realize my eyes are closed until the heart monitor for Big Me started beeping just a little faster and I had to open my eyes to check on her. 
Her eyes are open. “H-hey.” Her voice is small and strained. 
I smile at her. “Hey.” I murmur, trying not to wake Leo. 
“Everyone else ok?” She asks, thankfully not trying to sit up, which is probably more a testament to her pain than her self control. 
“G-guys…I don’t think…I don’t think Leo and I can walk right now…” She’d said as we stayed in our family hug for longer than we probably should have, considering their condition. 
Now…it was clear she was hiding her pain. I’ll give her a bit more morphine…if we have any left. 
But for now, I gently move hair from her face and nod. “Yeah, they’re alright…thanks to you. You and Leo…” I swallow. “I hate that it came to that.” I suddenly can’t speak past a lump in my throat. “I thought…” I manage to force out, but can't get further.
“I know. In our defense, Leo didn’t bet on losing his swords. We planned on portaling down as soon as we had the Kraang in position and Casey could grab the Key, but…” She grimaces and draws in a slow breath. “That’s not how things turned out.” 
I hold back an angry, hurt tirade about how stupid their stunt was and how scared I had been, and end up just sighing, tears pricking my eyes. 
“Leo’s just lucky Casey found them.” I try for humor, but there’s none in my voice. The poor kid thought the swords were all that was left of his mentor and Leo…
“Yeah, he’s a lifesaver.” Big Me smiles fondly, then glances over at Leo. “I hate that he did that, too, you know. S’why I went with him.” 
I nod through tears soaking my mask. I move it up and let them flow. “I know.” And I did, cus I felt the same way. I felt the same sadness and small bit of shame that my poor little brother had to shoulder that burden at only 16 years old. 
16…way too young to understand real sacrifice, to understand what responsibility is. 
What if Raph and I had taught him that being a hero means sacrificing yourself? That responsibility means putting everything on yourself? 
I'll have to talk to him…
“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”
I exhale to rid myself of sarcastic retorts or angry words I’d regret later. 
“What happened over there?” I ask instead. 
Maybe, if I knew exactly what they endured, I’d be less angry, I’d see that they’d been punished enough for their poor choice. 
“Oh, the usual villain thing; Kraang wanted to take his anger out on us, get his revenge, yada yada.” 
I wince. “I see.” Yeah…they’d definitely been punished enough. I knew that from the moment Big Me said she and Leo couldn’t walk. 
But somehow it took til now to really start to forgive them for scaring us like that.
“It’s not your fault.” Big Me says and I can’t help a sob. 
“If I’d managed to stop the Kraang from sending us off the technodrome--” 
“Then what?” Big Me interrupts gently. “We all might have gone to the prison realm, or the fight would have dragged on, and we all might have gotten this badly hurt. Bringing you back up wasn’t worth that risk. I just…I just hate that Leo chose to make that sacrifice. I wanted so bad to be the one to save him this time…” 
I grimace. Big Me had mentioned that Leo sent her back here, but nothing other than that…
“I’m sorry.” 
“You wanna know what happens to your brothers in the future? They all die fighting the Kraang!” Casey had said that to Leo in that hole in the rubble, no idea what damage those words did to Leo. Or to me…
“It’s ok. At least…I’m here now, in this time. And I know we won’t end up like them…but I can’t help missing them.” She takes a breath. “I’m sorry. I...I don’t know how much Casey told you and Leo…but--” 
“He told us they all died. I don’t want to know how.” I interject, hand on her good shoulder. “Like you said, you’re here now. You can honor them, grieve them, and eventually find peace here…or at least, I hope you can.” I sigh. “This whole…situation is kinda messed up, but…I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad Casey is here, too.” 
Big Me chuckles a little, but stops with a barely contained wince. “Y-you know, you’re supposed to come to me for wisdom like that.”  
“We’re the same person.” I quip in a deadpan voice Donnie would be proud of. 
Big Me laughs, but stops quickly with another subtle wince. “Stop making me laugh, kid!” She tries to poke me, but can’t quite reach. 
“Never.” I reply.
Silence falls over the lab and suddenly my eyes are heavy again. 
“Do me a favor?” Big Me asks. 
“Yeah?” I take a long blink before looking at her.
“Go take a picture of everyone for me, then come back, ok?” 
I grab my phone. “You got it.” 
I find them all in a pile in the living room, pillows and blankets haphazardly strewn about them. 
They haven’t done this since Shredder…
I smile, grabbing a blanket and settling it over Mikey, who hums a little but doesn’t stir from Raph's chest. 
As the blanket settled over him, Donnie flinches subtly at Raph's left side, but he stills just as quickly, scooting subconsciously closer to Raph, who has his arms out, complete with pillows for his siblings. 
Good. At least he isn’t scared to touch them any more… 
Lupa is curled into a ball against Raph’s other side, one hand clutching his belt like she’d never let go. I’m almost glad to cover that hand with a blanket. 
Mikey is flopped on Raph’s chest, snoring lightly as I tuck a larger blanket around him and Raph.
It takes me a minute to find Casey, and when I did, I nearly wished I hadn’t. 
He’s stationed himself like a guard by the door to the lab, curled up against the wall as tight as he could go, with only a blanket covering him. His mask is down over his face and he’s still wearing his armor. 
I grab a spare pillow from the pile and stealthily lift Casey’s head, slipping the mask off and the pillow under his head in one movement. 
Years of being a big sister had paid off. 
That is, until I notice Casey’s eyes are half-open. I ease the hair off his face and shush him. “Sleep, Casey…” I murmur softly and his eyes drift close. 
Once I was sure Casey was asleep, I take a quick picture of the pile of mutants and Casey and make my way back to the med bay. 
“Give you one guess where they are right now.” I chuckle as I resume my seat next to Big Me. 
“The living room, right?” 
I nod and show her the picture. “Where else would they be?” I shake my head, amused. 
“And Casey?” The humor fizzles a bit. 
“Outside the lab. I had to get him a pillow. Poor kid…” I sigh. “You know, I almost wish they wouldn’t do the pile any more…”
“Yeah...They only do it after they’ve been through something like this.” 
"I guess I'm just glad they're getting sleep. They've been through so much lately…" I muse. 
“You’ve been through a lot, too, you know.” Big Me points out softly. 
“Not as much as--”
“No. You went through the same hell they did and deserve a break.” Big Me pats the space beside her. 
Whatever protest I might have come up with can’t make it past my throat, so I just take off my mask and lay down, my arm automatically going over Big Me’s hip when she gently puts my arm back. “Huh?” I can’t help but ask. 
“Turn over.” She instructs. 
I blink stupidly at her, but in the end, I do turn over, feeling distinctly childish. Even more so when her arm, pulling the covers up in a fluid move I’d done a thousand times myself, settles on my hip. 
“You're not, um, sleeping on your bad arm, right?” 
“Sleep.” 
I smile, cheeks warm. “I feel a little childish.”
“Sleep.” Big Me insists firmly.
I sigh. Maybe, just for tonight, I can let myself relax. 
Just for tonight, it’s ok to share a bed with my future self, to have her hold me like I held the kids all those years after a nightmare. 
And so, my heavy eyes finally close with no cause to open them again, blessed sleep coming swiftly.
If I had stayed awake, however, I would have seen Leo briefly wake up, notice my sleeping situation, carefully get out of bed to snap a picture, then lay back down, staring at the picture for a while before he sets his phone down and falls asleep. 
But I knew none of that til the next morning at breakfast.
=#=#=#=#=
I slowly start to come awake and realize I don’t hear the monitors any more. 
Instantly, adrenaline rushes into my veins and I leap up, scanning the room frantically for the patients that should be in bed. 
But they aren’t! 
I grab my mask and tie it on as I rush out of the med bay into the lab, but they’re not there. 
I make it to the living room, but no one is there! 
What the--?! 
“--had pancakes?! Oh, booyyy am I about to blow your mind!” 
Mikey! The kitchen! 
I sprint over, ignoring some overworked muscles protesting my rapid movement, to find my family in the kitchen, getting coffee and waiting for Mikey, who was pouring batter on the griddle like he was being timed, eager to show off his cooking skills. 
Before anyone sees me, I march into the room. 
“Hey!” I bark, pointing at my renegade patients, who were sitting at the table, thankfully. “You two! Back to bed!” 
Everyone goes silent and still.
“Morning, mis hermana!” Leo chirps, pointedly not showing any pain he’s feeling as he waves. 
“Donchu ‘mis hermana’ me, boy! Bed! Now!” I protest hotly. 
“Little me, it’s ok, I promise. Remember, I’m the team medic, too. I’m watching him for you. You go get ready for the day. We’ll still be sitting here when you get back.” 
I hate that Big Me knows me so well, but I guess she’s just speaking from experience… 
“...” I turn and walk off, not trusting anything that might come out of my mouth. 
I grumble to myself about how stupid it is that those two are out of bed with their injuries while I brush my teeth and grab some fresh clothes, though. 
But then it hits me. 
Leo and Big Me, they looked so…relaxed and happy being around the others. They probably needed the company…
I feel like such a jerk as I walk back to the kitchen. 
“...I’m sorry.” I mumble, fiddling with my fingers. 
Big Me smiles patiently at me. “Come sit. We’re having pancakes.” 
I nod mutely and sit, accepting the mug of coffee Donnie presses into my hands. 
“You guys feeling better today?” I ask automatically, sipping at the warm coffee. 
“Other than stiff from sleeping on the floor…nothing has changed.” Donnie reports, smiling a bit at me as he sits across from me, knee brushing mine under the table. 
“Good. Raph?” 
“All good, hoss.” Raph replies, and I notice Lupa in his lap, scrolling on her phone. 
I smile. “Excellent. Hey, chef, you feeling ok?” I call. 
“A-ok! Oh! I left something on the table there!” 
He’d drawn a picture. 
Our new family group, posing for battle with the words Mad Dogz: 1 Kraang: 0 as the headline. It was clearly done hastily to test how steady his hands are, but I still snap a picture on my phone.
“Fantastic, Angelo.” 
I take a breath. Things are…fairly normal for a change. It felt really nice just sitting here enjoying breakfast, so I drink coffee. 
The only warning I have of the coming embarrassment is a split second of mischief in Leo’s eyes as he grabs his phone, then I hear Lupa’s phone vibrate in her hands. 
Seconds later…
“Awww that’s so cute!” She squeals, eagerly showing Raph, who visibly melts, eyes shining with happiness. 
“D’awww! Show Don!” 
I raise a brow. “What’s going- -”
“Ohmigosh that's adorable!” Donnie chuckles. “Didn’t know you two were cuddlers!” 
My heart skips a beat. “What're you- -Leo!” Lupa thrusts her phone in my face, revealing a picture of Big Me and…me, asleep, Big Me’s arm still around me, but I’d turned to face her, one hand against her stomach as if I needed her touch. 
Maybe I did…
Despite the embarrassed warmth in my cheeks and ears, I smile. 
“I won’t apologize. It was a good night’s sleep.” I sniff haughtily, as if daring anyone to try to tease me, but no one does. 
Evidently, they all knew I’d needed the sleep and the comfort. 
“Nor should you apologize.” Big Me nods like the matter is settled. “Now, how’re those pancakes coming, Mikey?” She asks and for the first time I notice her eyes…they’re shiny with tears. I can’t tell if they’re sad tears or glad tears, so I don’t call attention to it, just smile at her and shake my head to say ‘what’re we gonna do with them?’. 
She smiles back, shrugging, and I realize they’re happy tears. She most certainly needed the company…she’s been suffering so long…
“Coming along great! Oooh Raph! Can you get some bacon going? Maybe some of those sausage patties, too! After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!” Mikey is back to his bubbly, hyperactive self, which brings me no small sense of relief.
“Really?” I hadn’t even noticed Casey in a corner of the room closest to us, as if he wasn’t sure where he should be. 
I notice beside me is a free seat, so I gesture. “Yup! C’mon, don’t be a stranger!” I call, patting the seat beside me. 
“But you know me.” Casey replies, confused. 
“Sit’own, kid.” Big Me chimes in. “Breakfast is supposed to be a social affair.” 
“I guess…” The kid reluctantly sits down and I notice he doesn’t have the armor on, or the mask, and I find I like seeing more of him. 
I then get an idea and grab my phone and text Leo the picture I took of the pile.
“You guys did a pile without me?!” Leo snaps, looking at his siblings in betrayal as he slams his phone down on the table. 
“You can be part of the next one, soon as your plastron is healed.” I sip more coffee as Leo crosses his arms (careful not to hurt his plastron) in outrage. 
“No way! I should’ve been there! I never miss a pile!” He whines. 
“Sorry, Leo, but our injuries made a pile not possible. We’ll have one the night we’re cleared, right little me?” Big Me glances at me, knowing I’d back her up.
I nod. “Sounds like a plan!” 
“...What’s a ‘pile’?” Casey asks timidly. I show him the picture, noticing everyone’s phone chiming. Leo must’ve texted them all the picture. 
“The kids like to sleep all together after…something like this.” 
“I wondered why no one was going to their rooms…” Casey murmurs. 
“We all have coping strategies.” I shrug, putting my phone down as Mikey brings over the first big plate of pancakes. 
Of course, he splurged and put chocolate chips in them, but I let it slide. This was definitely worth the chocolate chips (which were a bit hard to come by lately). 
“I’m just glad I didn’t roll over on you guys.” Raph quips as he puts the bacon on a frying pan, another one heating up for the sausage patties. 
After all, some of us had dietary needs to meet. Namely, Lupa and I, but Donnie and Raph as well. 
I grab a few pancakes and snicker. “Remember that time Mikey had a cold and climbed into your bed? He elbowed you to the edge before you could say ‘cowabunga’!” 
“That little tike almost had me on the floor!��� Raph huffs, but his smirk betrays his amusement. 
“You know I need room to move, Raphie-boy!” Mikey retorts, winking at Raph, who just rolls his eyes. 
“Yeah yeah.” He grabs a pancake and eats half in one bite. “Great job on the pancakes, little- -I mean big man!” Raph rubs Mikey's head as if he were ruffling hair.
Mikey beams at Raph, happy Raph's recovered enough to touch him. “Thanks!” Mikey pats Raph on the arm and I don’t see Raph flinch, so hopefully all this means he’s starting to trust himself again. 
That mutation…we still don’t know what part of Raph was conscious of what he was doing, or if it was all a blank. 
I kinda hope it’s a blank…
I then shake myself. “Anyone got the syrup handy?” I ask the table, grabbing a few pancakes and stacking them on my plate. 
"Here, Ane!” Leo calls sliding it over without moving his chest too much. 
“Thanks, mis hermano.” I pour it on and sigh contentedly as I look around me. 
Everyone was here, everyone was safe and recovering.
That’s what matters here.
0 notes
boneswriteswords · 3 years
Text
Just A Little Longer - Michelangelo
A/N: Here is my self indulgent Mikey goodtime lime. Let me live. (It isn’t a lime. Its a lemon. But lime rhymes with time.)
Unbeta’d because no one has the time for editing.
Also I have no idea if any of it makes sense so.....
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~~~~~~
The bright neon LED lights of the alarm clock on your nightstand stood guard over you as you blinked awake. 2:04am. Awareness came slowly, your eyes dripping sleep even as the rest of you came online. You shifted, extending your body into a stretch, grinning when a muffled groan erupted from behind you.
A thick leg forced its way between yours. A heavy arm landed across your abdomen. A hard chest molded into your back.
Beyond your apartment walls, sounds of the city rage on. Waves of muted color trickle through the crack in your black-out curtains. Lines of yellow light bleed over the room. There are police sirens passing by as the house party three doors down blasts the newest Ariana Grande album. Someone honks their car horn in vicious repetition. If you strain, you can hear an muffled fighting and the shuffling of clothes as it turns physical.
All the noises harmonize and fade into nothing as you flip over, encouraging the limbs of your bed partner to stay entangled with yours. You’ve lived in the city long enough that the noises and the people and the lights don’t register much to you unless you focus on them. You know the sounds of danger from the sounds of the loud and that’s all you really need to know. Rainbow noise guided you, filtering through all the memories that you have access to you, and anything less has no space in your life.
Quiet nights are eerie after years of noise and you are more than happy having Mikey hold you in bed while the world keeps going around you.
REM does not return after closing your eyes again and you concede to being awake. It isn’t awful, not with the way Mikey clutches onto you as he shuffles - head nuzzling into whatever crevice he can reach. You can tell he is waking.
He can never remain asleep if he feels you are awake. He struggles to remain in a plan of existence where you aren’t. He fights himself awake and you never know if you need to be concerned or flattered by it.
You watch the lights as they bounce off objects in your room before looking back at him. Blurry lines. Soft shapes. Calming motions as they dance back and forth. They are beautiful but you’d much rather look at Mikey.
He has an arm curled loosely over your side while the other is resting under the pillow you both were using. You both liked long thick pillows that went from one side of the bed to the other. A small commonality made sweeter by your domesticity. His hand is curled limply and you remember that he had been stroking your head when you had fallen asleep earlier.
The muted light makes his green skin lighter. Shadows dip into the crevices of his skin and scars, revealing texture you usually only can feel. There is a darkness under his jaw and around his eyebrow ridge. You find yourself tracing the lines of shadow and light with your eyes, hurling the idea that anything could be more captivating out of the window. His breath is steady but his eyes are twitching behind his eyelids.
You see his eyes open. Three blinks and he is awake. You are jealous of how easy it is for him to go from one state of being to the next. He falls asleep quickly and he awakens even quicker. Deep blue eyes find yours and he smiles, moving his arm to drag you the tiniest bit closer. His lips twitch as he draws slow circles in the space between your shoulder blades.
There is an ache in your body, a reminder of the way he had rushed into your apartment as soon as the sun was down. The impact into the wall. Manic energy. Breathless laughter as pent-up passion bubbled over.
Your fingers trace down the side of his face, dipping down from the line of his throat to the pools of his collarbones below his plastron. He churrs the tiniest bit in response and it sounds a lot like the noise he makes when you tease the skin of his neck between your teeth.
You can’t leave marks on him. His skin just doesn’t color the ways a human’s might. Its thicker. Denser. Darker. Scalier. You can’t leave scratches either. It was a bit disappointing to find this out but knowing that he’d enjoy your marks if he was able to have them seizes you in ways you have never experienced. You imagine lining little rouge starbursts down his next and across the broadness of his shoulders and the way he would walk around with them proudly. Red lines connecting red flowers like vines.
His eyes scan over you. He is visual.
Its not always like this. You and him alone. Some nights its you and Mikey and the ghosts that follow you both. There are eyes in the shadows and they have many names and you never know who you are speaking to. They lurk while he cleans his weapons in the living room. They boldly take a seat next to you while you watch a movie tucked under his arm. Some nights, you pull up a seat at the table and serve them as Mikey makes a joke about something that happened during your day.
They exist and they try to make their home in your spaces and they take a toll on the nights when you are too weary to kick them out. A mix-match of traumas that spiral and float and smother and linger.
Mikey doesn’t just wear his heart on his sleeve. He rips open his chest and holds the organ up into the light directly. Makes you watch as it beats and pulses and moves his lifeblood through his body. There are no questions about what he does, how he feels. He is on display by choice, flitting about vulnerable as if there are no monsters in the world he lives in.
But there are days where he wraps himself up behind a glass wall to separate himself from the rest of the world. Deep-rooted hopelessness drains his light, his strength a house of cards edging towards collapse. His voice cracks and wavers. Its never his fault. No one asks for trauma. No one asks to be too late. No one asks for the life he’s lived.
Only recently has a door appeared in the glass. He always tells you where the key is so you can open it. You make sure to crack open the door and wait for him to invite you in further. If he does, you sit inside with him. If he doesn’t, you sit outside and wait for the wall to come down.
And then there are the days where you are translucent. You look down at your body and see through it, faintly incorporeal. A ghost. Light bleeds through you as you walk under the sun. Intangible and lost. You don’t feel real even as your ribs ache and the steady stream of your heartbeat remains. All that exists is quiet breathing.
All your worst nightmares are of you reaching out to hold Mikey’s hand but it goes through him. You can’t grip onto him and he walks away because he can’t see you.
Mikey tells you that he sees you. He grips your hand and squeezes and pulls you in close on the off chance that you feel like your floating away. He won’t let you but he doesn’t begrudge your fear. No one asks for the life you’ve lived.
Jeers erupt from outside but neither of you flinch. You just lean closer into each other. Mikey runs his hand up and down your spine, eyes wet, and you are astounded once more how stubbornly he loves you. How intensely he feels for you. How he believes so much that you both are it. The endgame.
You wish you could take the shadows that live behind his eyes and demand they leave. “You can’t have him,” you imagine you’d say, “He is mine. And I’m not scared of you. I love him too much.” If that meant pulling a seat up for them in the living room and offering them a whiskey laced with intention, you’d do it.
Mikey’s hand slips under your night shirt, his palm flat against the skin of your back and you melt against him. You have studied those hands and all the ways they make you feel things and you exhale harshly and slowly so as to not disturb the rays of muted light.
“You doing okay?” Mikey asks, voice dripping with drowsiness despite the awareness present in his baby blues. “Its late. Or early. Whatever. Was it a nightmare?”
“No baby,” you respond, pressing your mouth against his beak, “No nightmares tonight.”
“Good.”
You press another kiss to his beak before ducking down a little and pressing another one to the side of his mouth. The arm under the blanket shifts. His fingers stroke your head.
There is a lull.
“I love you.”
Its comes out unexpectedly but you aren’t ashamed of it. He already knows. That relationship milestone has long since passed. Even so, the words are splintered, cracked around the edges and easy to be drowned out by the sounds of screeching tires on the road and idiots on the street.
But the impact is till the same. The look he gives you is blue fire and he guides you closer for a kiss. It starts off light, gentle, a nudge against your mouth but his fingers cradled the back of your head as he deepens it. “Love you too. So much” is mumbled as he presses further into you.
Arousal simmers on the back-burner as an afterthought. You had fucked hard earlier - a frenzy, a reconnection after a week of only facetime calls and voice memos that left you worked up and over. You know you will fuck again when the sun is up because Mikey loves starting the days off right when you are both in the same place.
Right now is the time to relearn the shape of his mouth as he kisses you lazily. You pull back slowly. You stare at him and he stares at you, movements slow.  
A beat.
Two.
Three.
“You remember the talks we had?” you whisper before you could stop, brushing your nose over his, “when we had just met? The ones that lasted days at time?”
“Yeah,” he responds, his voice low, “That was a long time ago but I do. I don’t think I could ever forget.” There are flashes of light behind his eyes and you know he remembers each call. Each text thread that was either memes or philosophical questions that had you trying to unearth the truth of the universe. Each conversation that spanned days because real life creates lulls between responses.
“I fell in love with you there,” you whisper back, “Somewhere in those calls, I turned over to look into the phone and realized that you were mine and there would never be anyone else for me.”
“Yeah?” its a soft question that, from the look on his face, doesn’t require an answer, “You too?” You nod anyway. He deserves to see it.
He grins.
“I’m glad that we took our time,” you continue, wiggling as his hand scratches at your back the tiniest bit, “I like that we are friends. I like that I can say “Mikey is my best friend” when they ask me about my boyfriend. I’m glad that I got the chance to like you.”
“I like you too angel,” he whispers, his voice getting softer, warmth bleeding in the spaces between words. Heat singes around his eyes, “I like you so much.”
You hold him tighter, “no one knows my soul like you do.”
Mikey surges forward to kiss you again, his hand running down from your back to the side of your thigh. He rolls you both so he is half on top of you, maneuvering a thigh between your legs and pressing your chests touch as he slips his tongue between your waiting lips. You arms reach up to rest along the broadness of his shoulders, fingers dancing along the lip of his shell.
When he pulls back, his breathing is harsh, “you know mine angel.”
There is a sense of peace with knowing that all your exposed parts are being kept safe. The storms pass. Smoke is cleared. Petrichor sweetens the air. The dead are laid to rest so flowers can grow on their remains. The sun is bright.
Between you, pleasure kindles slowly. Hands roam and tug and cup. Kisses are scattered like constellations. There are murmurs of praise and whispers of awe. Time blurs as you sink down into it.
Mikey brushes his lips along the side of your face as he glances as the clock, the sun peeking its head above the skyline from the window, “Do you want me now?”
“Now.” You punctuate the word with a roll of your hips against his thigh. “I want to feel you.”
He sighs under his breath, hands shifting you until you are where he wants you. Your night clothes are removed and dropped by the side of your bed. His shorts follow, landing right on top of yours. He nestles firmly between your open thighs. “Okay angel. You can have me. You can have everything.”
The vulnerability in his voice shakes you. The slide of his cock into you has you gripping onto him. He draws it out, indulgent in the way you stutter and writhe against him. Its a seamless fit, despite his size. You are still prepped from earlier, wet and accommodating, and he drips like a faucet.
Mikey had never known sex could be like this. He always expected that sex would be purely physically, a thing that couples did to feel good and sate any hormonal urges. No one ever told him about how it feels when hands grip onto him, leaving trails of sparks and comets and tingles across his body that linger for days. No one ever told him that his lovers moans could vibrate along his vertebrate and resonate in the parts of his unknown. The void in his chest fills with liquid gold when he hears his named sobbed against his skin.
You hadn’t known either.
And even though you both do now, even though you crave each other more fiercely than you crave air, it always feels new when you collide. Every sensation has been redefined. Vulnerability has never felt so powerful.
You cry as you feel his cock pulse inside of you as he bottoms out and grinds forward. He grunts, his arms keeping your hips flush against his.
“How do you always feel so good?” Words emphasized with deep thrusts. Hard, slow, tapering into a grind before pulling back out. ”Always so good for me. Meant for me. Made for me to love. Made to take me.”
“Yes,” you hiss back, breath hot against his neck. Mikey adjusts, one of his hands remaining on your hip while the other slides to grip your arms behind your back. He presses you flush against his plastron, back arched off the bed and supported by the strength in his arms as he holds you. “Meant for you. And you found me.”
The casual, effortless show of strength spreads a warm haziness across your mind. You lean into it.
“Fuck - Mi...I-” There are tears in your eyes as you gasp and shudder as Mikey picks up the pace. Without warning, your mouth is covered by his and you can feel his smile against yours. A laugh bubbles up from somewhere and tapers off as the kiss turns hungry.
“Shh I have you,” he gasps between his own pleasured noises, “I have you. You are safe here. What do you need?” His hand strokes along your face as he rocks into you. His voice is breathless but full of intent. “Tell me what you want.”
“Everything,” you babble as he grind right up against your good spot, “I want everything with you.”
He groans, breathing deep as the colors blur into shapes. He tucks his arm back under you, grinding harder, your clit catching along the hardness of his plastron. Your legs tremble around his hips. Mikey kisses you again before he ducks down to your neck and shoulder, his mouth hungry and burning. Ravenous.
Something about romance ignites a wildfire inside of Mikey. You exploit it as often as you can and he lets you because you both know that nothing is said without intent, without meaning. Honesty burns under your skin and shines through your eyes every time you press words of love into his skin like galaxies in a telescope. He basks in the attention. He worships under it.
In return, Mikey spills filth into your ears. The kind that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is but god does he know what you need to hear.
(”You feel perfect, hot and tight.”/ “I’m yours.”/ “I can feel you. You are real.”/ “I know, angel, I know. You’ve been wanting me so much. You need me. I need you too.”/ “I’m going to show you I love you. You’ll never doubt it. You’ll never doubt that I love you.”/ “Angel I’m not scared of your ghosts. They are scared of me.”/)
Mikey’s voice is serrated in ways no one but you have heard. Raw and carnal and deeper than most would expect, flashing dark around the edges the more passionate he gets, the more he reaches down inside of you to pull out the parts of you only he sees. 
You fall apart from the inside and can do nothing as the bottom drops out. You aren’t scared, not with the way Mikey holds you and chases away anything that could ruin this. His “I loves yous” bleed into your skin and you take hold of his pain and strangle it. There is no room for the grief and emptiness as violent tremors rack your bodies and hands cradle exposed hearts. The lights flash and dance as the decrescendo halts everything around you.
Heavy breathing fill the room. Whispered praise is soft and there is shuffling. You wipe each other down as best you can with the wet wipes you keep by the bed before pulling each other closer. The morning light is higher, peeking between the blinds and under the edges of the curtains. 
Eventually you’ll get out of bed. Clean up properly. Make food and spend time together with your clothes on. Relax in the knowledge that the day is a good one with no dark figures hanging in the corners, waiting to come in. But, thats for later.
For now, you lay close, breathing each other in. Hands are still roaming. No one has faded and there is no cold glass protecting warm skin. Mikey murmurs something and you smile. Your smile meets his smile and laughter joins in, glimmering in the light. You peck at his mouth and his fingers dig into the skin of your flesh before he grabs the comforter and hides you both underneath it.
Everything can wait. Just for a little longer. 
~~~~~
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imagine-turtles · 3 years
Note
Hi. I love this ask.
What would happen if the turtle's (bayverse) s/o (like enstabilished relationship) walked up to him, made him sit down like on the bed or on the couch, completely dead serious, face void of all emotions and then!! Started peppering his face with super affectionate kisses with the biggest smile ever?
But i would love to see the opposite as the boys do that to their s/o. Please and thanks you.
Glad you liked it!  For everyone just joining us, catch the first part HERE!!
Leonardo's significant other probably wouldn’t be a stranger to an unreadable  invitation to a more private location, and even his brothers find it hard to tell if he’s trying to get some alone time or if he’s about to spark a disagreement.  His partner, on the other hand, witnesses the switch from inscrutable to tender the second he gets them alone.
Particularly in the beginning, Leonardo is careful to not push for more than what he’s given.  How could he, when he’s already been given so much?  His hands linger awkwardly, fiddling with his so’s knuckles, and his kisses are feather-light.  It’s only after a great deal of acclimation that he gets bold enough to initiate contact, but even then they would have to gently pull him towards anything more heated.
When he finally caves to his own wants, Leonardo kisses with an unparalleled intensity.  He kisses like a dying man, as if he hasn’t seen them in months, as if he’ll never see them again.  His preferred places are his partner’s temples, the nape of their neck, and square on their lips.
~~~
It doesn’t even cross Raphael’s mind that his partner might think he’s about to break up with them when he, deadpan, pulls them aside to “talk”.  Why would he dump the only person (in his mind) willing to put up with him?  No, he just wants a little lovin’, and there’s no way he’s letting his brothers see how badly he’s addicted.  It’s not that he’ll deny his significant other’s affections around them--he leaves plenty of opportunities--he’ll just pretend he’s being charitable, that it’s all to keep them happy.
Because if Raphael’s not getting enough affection, what else is there to do but take matters into his own hands?  Like Leonardo, it takes a lot of patience to get him asking for cuddles, but the payoff is more than worth it.  He tends to keep his s/o above him to minimize the risk of hurting them, but silently begs for as much contact as possible; the minute he hits the bed he’s nosing at their collarbone, tucking his snout squarely under their jaw, running his hands from waist to thigh as if to make sure it’s all still there.
And if he happens to tear up when his partner confesses their love for the hundredth time, well, no one’s the wiser.  His favorite places are his partner’s wrists, neck, and right over their heart.
~~~
Donatello’s significant other may already be accustomed to their veritable mountain of a turtle herding them off to a more private setting with little to no preamble or explanation.  It might be nerve-wracking to a particularly anxious partner, but the instant the door closes behind them, he makes his intentions very clear.
Naturally, Donnie’s personal chair is a favorite, solely because he’s spent so much time making it the most comfortable, ergonomic piece of furniture in the lair.  Regardless of the dynamic between he and his s/o, the chair situation tends to remain the same: his ass goes in the chair, their ass goes in his lap.  Preferably chest to plastron to maximize contact, alternating between slow kisses and burying his face in the crook of their neck.  He insists the fascination with his partner’s scent is merely a healthy appreciation of pleasant smells due to a life in the sewers, but it’s really got nothing to do with missed life experiences or turtle biology.  He’s just like that.
His favored places to kiss are his s/o’s inner thigh, along their clavicle, and the palms of their hands.
~~~
While Michelangelo enjoys a good joke, he only keeps a straight face for about ten seconds before he starts in with the kisses.  It’s not that he couldn’t go for longer if he really wanted to--he just doesn’t want to give his significant other time to actually start freaking out before surprising them.  Nothing kills a good prank like a healthy dose of emotional whiplash, and Mikey knows full well if he were in the same situation, he’d start getting nervous.  If his s/o could spoof his emotional radar in the first place, that is.
But when Michelangelo cracks and starts in with the fluff, he doesn’t restrict himself to just their face.  Everywhere he’s allowed access to is fair game for little nips, kisses, and tickles.  Location be damned.  If his brothers don’t want to see his mostly-appropriate fun, maybe they should let him move the good couch to his room.  Vern would probably get them another couch if they asked.
Mikey’s favorite places to kiss are the ribs, stomach, and any other ticklish spots he can find.  Not that he’d turn down a french sesh, mind you.
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sylvain-writes · 3 years
Text
Unbroken (Mikey x Reader)
Rated: T Gender Neutral Reader, pre-relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, Mikey whump, brothers not coping well with stress/fear, victim blaming, affection, love confessions, friendship/love
Mikey's been injured beyond anything his family has experienced before, leaving his brothers terrified. While Donatello, Raphael, and Leonardo struggle with their own guilt and fear, you take over your dearest friend's medical care. for @brightlotusmoon
Tension pours from the Lair into the tunnels. You move quickly. 
Something had told you to bring your delivery of medical supplies early, but what you had chocked up to a gut-feeling now feels much more likely to have been a call from the energies that connect you to Michelangelo and his Father. That psychic pull flares as you draw near and there's no longer room for doubt.
Your messenger bag slips down your arm as you increase your pace. It catches on your elbow awkwardly as you carry the heavy cooler of sundry medicine vials, but you don’t let that slow you down. There’s panic in the air - anger and fear. Casey’s and Raphael’s voices echo through the space - another call for your attention. 
Casey urges Raphael to stop raving before he says something he’s going to regret. But his pleas are ignored. 
Raphael shouts over Casey’s shoulder from the tunnel into the infirmary. He spits accusations and threats at someone unseen. 
In plain clothes, but with all the authority of a Detective, Casey gives Raphael a final warning before pushing past his raging friend and stepping up to you.  He grabs the cooler and leads you into the infirmary, thanking god for your arrival.
“Donnie will be so glad you’re here.”
You would have come sooner had someone sent word. You’re about to say as much when Casey steps out of the way and the sight of Mikey laid up on a hospital bed leaves you speechless. Frozen. Donnie gives you a frightened look before his eyes drift to his quarreling brothers, then draws the curtain to block them out.
Raphael’s bellows behind your back, shocking you out of your stupor. “Ya shoulda been there!” 
Your heart leaps, thundering against your ribs. You turn around, breath caught in your throat wondering how on earth you could have prevented such a thing. But Raphael is rounding on Leo, not you, shoving his older brother square in the chest as he brings his face too close. 
“Ya shouldn’ta sent him away!"
Tension ripples up Raph's arms from his fists to his shoulders as he crowds Leo into a corner. "This is on you, Leo. If he don’t wake up- If he don’t... “ 
When words fail him, Raphael launches himself at his brother with a growl. 
Casey’s face twists into horror as Leo, outwardly stoic and calm, takes his brother on. 
In a quick series of grabs, Leo has Raphael twisted and pinned against the wall in seconds. Leo eyes him with a look of impatience and disappointment. “Walk it off, Raph.”
“Try’na get rid of me too, huh?” With his face pressed against the cement, Raphael grinds out his words through clenched teeth. 
Leo turns to Casey, as if he doesn’t have time for such an inconvenience as this. “Get him out of here. He’s making Don nervous." His grip on Raph lets up as he turns to face the curtain once more. "We’ve been hurt before. We heal. Everything is going to be fine.”
You've only caught a glimpse of Mikey's condition. But you've never seen Donatello so scared. You wonder who Leo is trying to convince.
Raphael seethes as Casey takes him by the arm, but he isn't forced out of the room. "Ain't been this bad. Never this fuckin' bad."  Raph's voice is hoarse from shouting and crying, but his words don’t seem directed at Leo anymore. As his disbelief turns from swears to prayers, you think you hear him making deals with god and the devil.
“Swear to god, bro,” Raph says, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, “if you don’t wake up, man…” With his elbows on his knees, Raphael buries his face in his hands. 
Casey lays a hand on his friend's shoulder before the radio at his belt urges him topside. "I'm sorry," he says to the room. "I gotta..."
Raphael's head hangs lower, but he nods. 
Leo stands stoic - arms resting at his sides, ignoring Casey's words of departure, watching the drawn curtain. Blinking but not seeing. His breath is even enough for him to be attempting some form of meditation, and you think that’s for the best. But you wonder how long the quiet will last.
Casey tips his head toward the hospital bed. A small jerky movement that grabs your attention. You look at him, head spinning. “You gonna be OK with this?”
You glance over your shoulder to where the curtain hides Donnie and Mikey from view.  Slowly, you nod. Even before med school you were proficient at compartmentalizing. You can help Mikey without becoming overwhelmed by seeing your best friend in whatever condition he’s in. You just need to get in there, see what you’re working with.
“I’ll be alright,” you tell Casey and remind yourself.
You wave him off, draw back the curtain, and take a fortifying breath. 
At the head of the hospital bed, Donnie moves as if on autopilot. He's set a PICC line just under Mikey's shoulder and is starting a transfusion. He's talking himself through the steps, laying out his plans for what to do next. Even as you approach, he remains completely focused on his tasks.
His hands shake as he lifts a fresh bag of fluids to the IV stand. Careful as he tries to be, the bag slips from the hook and lands with a wet slap on the floor. 
You crouch down to help and lay a hand on his arm as he apologizes for this little hiccup in Mikey's care. 
Unshed tears cloud his vision.  He looks almost as pale as his brother lying on the bed. It's obvious he's doing the best he can, and you couldn't ask for more.
Donnie watches you easily hang the bag and open the line. He holds his breath as you properly take in the scene. “He shouldn’t have been out there alone,” he says quietly. It sounds like another apology.
From the edge of the curtained area, Leo parrots the same words. The way he says them, however, sounds like an accusation. 
“He knows better,” Leo continues, coming closer to Mikey's bedside. The more Leo speaks, the more life returns to his eyes. Fire heats Leo’s words. You suppose anger is easier to feel than fear. “What was he thinking?” 
From the floor, Raphael chokes on a sob. “You knew better. The fuck were you thinkin’, huh?” 
Leo widens his stance and rolls his shoulders back, ignoring his younger brother's latest outburst.
The monitor at Mikey’s bedside beeps, Mikey starts to convulse, and it’s easy to tune out everything else.
You and Leo struggle to hold Mikey still as Donnie checks the equipment.
Donnie adjusts the speed of the morphine drip, scanning Mikey's body and the monitor displays. His mouth is set in a hard line. His jaw ticks with how hard he's clenching his teeth to keep his lip from trembling. 
He wipes his eyes on the back of his wrist and pretends he's not close to tears seeing his only little brother injured beyond what any of them have ever faced. 
Even as their eldest brother works to restrain Mikey from further aggravating his injuries, Leo asks if it's really a good idea to increase the narcotics. "We don't want him dependent on that stuff." 
It was the last straw for Donatello. His resolve falters. He faces Leo with color high on his cheeks and opens his mouth to argue. But he sputters and fails to string together an explanation fit for Leo’s approval. Too much of his energy has been depleted by Mikey's care for Donnie to dumb down his course of treatment into terms Leo can understand. 
You place a hand on Donnie's shoulder and offer him a knowing look. 
"One thing at a time," you tell Leo with the calm authority of your medical expertise. "We get Mikey through this, first. We'll titrate him off the meds when he no longer needs them." 
Exhausted and exasperated, Donnie ducks his head and steps aside to let you take over. He watches you assess the work he's done. He holds his breath as you review the scans and x-rays he provides. 
There’s nothing for him to be ashamed of. His stitches are hasty, but they'll hold. The broken bones have been set properly. 
There's a pain in your chest as your brain switches the images in front of you from patient to Mikey to patient again. You know that unbiased detachment will serve you best in your decision making tonight, but the crease between your eyebrows twitches as you spend a second too long watching Mikey's eyelids flutter, hoping for them to open.
Mikey is barely conscious, groaning with every squirming movement but seemingly unable to keep still. 
The file Donnie's prepared lists a concussion on top of deep tissue bruising, stab wounds, broken bones, a dislocated knee, and a cracked plastron. Mikey's head is wrapped. Thick gauze pads the left side of his skull and dark bruises color his swollen face. With each injury your interest in the case, in the patient before you, grows more clinical. 
You mutter, more to yourself than to Donnie or anyone else, your review of what's been done and what still needs doing. Donatello nods along, keeping up and eager to learn even in the midst of the crisis. Perhaps especially due to the nature of this one. 
And after a few more minutes of tweaking the medications, your dear patient eases more deeply into sedation. 
You smooth your hand over the gauze above Mikey’s ear and allow yourself a breath of relief. His glassy eyes blink up at you, unfocused until you run the back of your fingers down the side of his face. 
Memories of all the times he’s called you ‘Angel’, the times it felt less like a place holder for ‘Dude’ and more like a pet name chosen specifically for you, poke and prod the edges of your mind until one memory rushes through.
You and Mikey sitting on the rooftops together. His feet dangling over the edge of the building, kicking out a rhythm as he percusses with his hands upon his thighs. You rocking forward and back as he listens with rapt attention to you talking about Med school: your residency, your hopes and dreams for advancing the field of neurobiology, and the sundry inbetween stuff that never feels like tangents when you're speaking with him. 
You’re lost in the memory of the night, of you and Mikey and endless possibilities, when Donatello gives your shoulder three taps and pulls you back to the present.
The hairs on your arms rise when Master Splinter arrives to check on Mikey's progress. You wish you could say it was his raw psionic power that gives you chills, or his virtuous presence that tears your attention from your patient. There's no compassion or concern flowing from him right now. And it's neither respect nor admiration you feel for him in this moment. 
Though Splinter approaches the bed, his energies remain rather distant. Cool. Complacent. He reaches out to Mikey through their psychic bond and nods in approval. "He will learn from this,” Sprinter says, voice a low, monotonous hum. “Grow stronger." He turns from his youngest with a clipped, "Humph," and moves to the corner of the room without offering a word of comfort to any of his sons. He sits to meditate, unperturbed by the scene.
As if taking a cue from their father's indifference, Leo and Raphael start up their squabble again. 
It's too loud. Too much. Reading Splinter's energy and watching Mikey's shrink from it like a kitten being scolded for mistaking wicker furniture for their scratch post tests your nerve, grates on your mind, and burrows under your skin. 
A year into your residency, and twice as long helping the Hamatos, you think you'd be able to handle anything. But you begin to get shaky. How Donatello worked so long with his brothers looking over his shoulder and arguing behind his back, you'll never know. 
Every now and then Splinter comments on the strength of Mikey's chi. He seems oblivious to the fact that his son was literally writhing in pain on this hospital bed moments ago. The harder Splinter insists on Mikey’s resilience and tenacity, the more you feel Mikey pulling in on himself, frightened to show his Father the truth of his condition. Protecting his family from his frailty and pain even as he lay nearly unconscious.
Meanwhile, Leonardo insists that this all could have been avoided if Mikey would have exercised some patience and common sense by not going up to the surface alone. 
“Where were you, anyway, Raph?" The unending feud cycles around and around. "You’re supposed to look out for him.”
When Leo starts apologizing on behalf of Raph's and Donnie's negligence, you think his younger brothers are going to snap. You make the call to get them all out, so you can focus on Mikey without worrying about playing referee.
Leo catches Splinter on the way out, making plans to meditate together through the night.
Before Donatello leaves, he pops by for a goodnight. “Get well quick, little bro,” he pleads, squeezing his arm and dropping a kiss upon the crown of his brother’s head.
Raphael does similarly, adding that they’re bedroom won't be the same tonight. Without Mikey's headphones hanging off the side of the bed, still playing music while his snores somehow ride the beat of each song, Raph won't get a wink of sleep. “Won’t sleep til you’re there buggin’ me again.”
Mikey responds with quiet murmurs that his brothers all but ignore. They're more accustomed to and comfortable with hearing their own voices than listening to their brother's pain.
With the room clear, it’s easier to hear Mikey’s mutterings for what they are. Though speaking through a fog of pain and anaesthetic, he’s not incoherent. 
Your heart sinks to realize he understands what's happening to him, that he’s likely heard everything that’s been said in the room. The shouting, the crying. The selfish demands on his suffering body. The detached sureness of his Father. 
So confident that all will be fine, Splinter hadn’t even laid a hand on Mikey or spared a shred of empathy before he had gone. 
You pay close attention to Mikey’s words, letting them inform your care. 
Mikey’s eyes peek through heavy lids, trying to follow you around the room. But when you’re at his side again, and your hand strokes his face, his eyes close.  He leans into your palm despite his bruised and fractured jaw. 
For a few minutes you remain just like this - cradling his face in your hands, watching him drift in the haze of sedation, feeling his energies ebb and flow from their hiding place in their search for the safety he’s always found with you.
“I’m here,” you assure him gently. “It’s only me.”
Your promise is enough for his energies to move free. 
Hushed sounds and quiet clicks of your tongue fill the space between you as you put Mikey’s mind at ease. Your fingers pitter-patter over his cheek bones and down the sides of his neck as you palpate for further injuries. They pass over his clavicle and shoulders as Mikey stutters a breath.  
A sling traps his arm against his chest, where his fingers tap the scute over his heart. It’s a small movement, perhaps one of the only movements he can safely make in his condition, and even then, it must be a challenge. For someone you’ve only seen lying this still during his most depressive episodes, you think being incapacitated thusly must be torture.
His bandaged hand is heavy as you lift it. His fingers are cool under the press of your lips. They curl reflexively around yours and you kiss his hand again. 
“My best days are the ones I spend with you,” you whisper. It hurts to be burdening him with such a thing right now, but you also think it’s a truth he should hear sooner rather than later. 
Mikey’s chest rises and falls with staggered, labored breaths as you pet his chest. You talk and Mikey lets your voice wash over him. He leans his head back, relaxed and floaty, feeling like he's in a dream. And as he has so many times before, in dreams, Mikey tells you he loves you.
You bite your lips together as tears fill your eyes. For the first time tonight you think they’ll truly spill over. “Love you, too,” you say, and it doesn’t matter to you whether he means it romantically or as friends because the relationship you share and the love you’ve fostered for each other doesn’t need labels or constraints. 
When Mikey seems to be falling asleep you try to give him some space, but he doesn’t want you gone. His mind is quieter when you’re at his side. 
You rub his leg as you stand by his bed. Though your back is aching and your feet protest the constant bustle, you still haven’t been able to sit. 
“Tell me if you need anything,” you say in earnest. 
Despite your efforts to keep Mikey hydrated, his words are but a croak. “Just you.”
“Hm?” 
“You here. Could you-” Mikey’s eyes close and his hand turns palm up on the bed. Though he can’t muster the strength to lift his arm, his fingers curl and release inviting you back. You slide your hand into his and give it a light squeeze. 
“Stay,” he whispers weakly.
Sleepy, and still in pain despite the heavy opiate cocktail you and Donatello created for him, Mikey gives a weak tug on your hand and whimpers, begging you to understand what he needs.
You climb up, thankful for the extra wide bed, and rest against his wrapped plastron carefully. He buries his face into the top of your head. He nuzzles the hand you’ve raised to cup his cheek. The soft, sleepy sounds he makes drift in and out, sometimes words and sometimes just a hum. 
“...M no good,” Mikey mumbles into your hair, and you feel his breath hitch. “Not good enough.”
“Oh… no, baby,” you say, bracing yourself on the mattress and pushing up to look him in the eye. You stroke the lines of his brow ridge above his eyes, left and right, until his eyes flutter open. They shine with tears threatening to fall. “You’re always enough. Always been enough.”
He gives the slightest turn of his head, but his eyes stay locked on yours as if desperate to believe your words. His lip trembles. His tears slide down his cheeks.
“You’re perfect, sweetheart.” You continue to pet his face, but you let his tears fall freely, letting him know it’s alright to cry.
“For you?” Mikey asks, bordering on inaudible. But you hear him. The question rises from the depths of his being, calling out to you, and you answer the call with the truth of your soul.
“Always. Perfect for me. Forever perfect for me.”
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Whumptober: I’ve Got Red In My Ledger
Leonardo spun forward, slicing his blades down on anything that came near him in a deadly dance. Behind him, he could hear Raphael doing almost the same, anything that dared attack violently killed. He was enjoying himself, too.
Donatello and Michelangelo were definitely doing just fine, too, used to these enemies. Leonardo was pleased, glad to see them finally independent in battle.
Above them, Karai provided support, suddenly taking down an enemy that was getting a bit too close with a throwing sword or kunai, lunging down and stabbing one in the head before returning to her previous position, keeping herself both helpful and available.
Their enemies, the Kraang, were cleared out quickly with an ethic like that, nothing but metallic corpses left around, still and unmoving.
"Was that it?" Raphael called, sounding vaguely disappointed.
"It should be," Donatello chirped back as he picked around one of the bodies.
"I hope it was," Leonardo looked his swords over. Darn, he really needed to get back into the care routine he had before the space thing that happened, however he was supposed to explain that. One of the blades was chipped.
Michelangelo engaged in a game of catch with Karai, using a head as a ball while the rest of them poked around for anything useful, shouting taunts to get her off guard.
A pillar moved.
Leonardo would have brushed it off as a trick of the light, but, being as paranoid as he was, he found himself moving towards it instead.
He could have sworn he saw it move, in the far corner of the room, even if it was just a slight shift to the right-
It moved again, the cracks between plates that seemed like an artistic trend in anything made by Kraang widening.
"Guys?" Leonardo called, the panic in his voice showing as he took a few very large steps back.
The pillar was definitely moving now, slowly expanding as plates moved to reveal bunched up limbs that grabbed at whatever solid support was near to move itself upward.
Oh.
Well. That sucked.
The creature that stood before him reminded him of that one robot samurai they had to fight that one time. (He never remembered the names of the things they had to fight, but he was fairly certain that one’s name was Chrome Dome or something like that).
Behind him, banter and play stopped, everyone bracing for… Whatever Michelangelo planned on naming it.
Then it lunged.
And God was it fast. It moved fast enough to force them to try and keep up, struggling more and more by the second as they had already been coming down from their previous battle. Their mistake. Weapons bounced off its metal plating unless you were specifically aiming for the gaps between its main body and its limbs. Even then, that was risky, close range, and not likely to work. After an especially rough blow to the plastron that he was sure broke his ribs, Leonardo was not too eager to try that again.
Still, they had to have put an emergency shut-down in there somewhere, just in case it went haywire. The Kraang were probably just as hesitant about fighting as they were, right?
Shifting to a more evasive fighting style, Leonardo began to keep an eye out for something they could use as a weak spot, anything that would help them take it down. Already, he was hurting, and he could see that the others were too, blood dripping from various injuries caused by an arsenal of weapons.
It always had a weak spot, there was no way that this one didn’t have one too.
There, on its shoulder, and of course it was somewhere that it could reach.
Leonardo considered, for a moment, that he was getting too old for this, even though he was only just getting into his 20s.
But Karai was in a good spot to hit it, it would really only take one hit, and it would all be over.
“There’s a shut-down on its right shoulder,” he pointed out, getting a couple glances from the others, “Try to grab it if you can!”
With that pointed out to the others, he glanced up to Karai, looking to her for assistance.
And she, noting that he needed her help, catching his glance, paused to look the battle over, then smirked and back out, taking their entry to get out.
Freaking he-
Leonardo ducked down and snaked backwards to avoid getting hit, and heard Raphael yell something after Karai that he didn’t catch. It probably wasn’t that important anyway. What was important though, was actually paying attention to the task at hand.
Gliding over to Michelangelo, Leonardo nudged him, signaling from his chains to the robot (had Michelangelo named it already? There hadn’t been a lot of commentary this time around). It seemed to click almost immediately, and Leonardo stepped back to avoid getting in the way as Michelangelo threw the weapon in a curve, then darted around to grab it and wrap it around the metallic soldier.
Going round and round until he had it secured, Michelangelo bounced back to Leonardo, struggling to hold it and silently requesting assistance. While the oldest and youngest grappled the chains, fighting to hold it still, a sai went flying over their heads and into the hand of Donatello, who promptly adjusted his grip on the weapon and went clambering up the enemy’s back, sai raised to-
It- It collapsed.
The chains slackened as it crumpled to the ground, unmoving, and Donatello hopped off to avoid falling. For a long moment, everyone was silent.
“Did- Did you get it?” Michelangelo asked tentatively.
“No-” Donatello almost shrieked, looking it over.
“So it just shut down on its own?” Raphael eyed the body suspiciously, as if it might get up and start moving at any second.
“I don’t know Raph, it just suddenly fell, I didn’t do anything to it!”
They all paused, still watching, still waiting, just in case it got back up. Leonardo tightened his grip on the chains and pulled back slightly to tighten them. That way, if it did try again, they would already have it down. He’s restrained large creatures before, it wasn’t like he couldn’t do it again.
Seconds turned to minutes without any sign of life, and slowly, they relaxed, gathering up weapons and turning to leave. It wasn’t up anymore, and they had finished up everything else they needed to do, so there really wasn’t much point in staying anymore. After all, they were injured, too, they needed to take care of those. Donatello could only work so fast in the middle of a fight, so any stitches he had to give while they were out of sight were hastily done.
On their way down to the sewers, Raphael rambled about the stunt Karai pulled, clearly angry at her. Leonardo silently lamented as he still didn’t trust their sister as he talked, bracing for raised voices and insults.
“Raph,” he began, trying to keep his voice soft, “calm down. You’re getting worked up over nothing.”
“I’m getting worked up over nothing ?!” Raphael whirled on his heel, snarling at Leo, “She left us in the middle of a fight, Leo! I’m not going to calm down! You brought her here, this is  your fault!”
“It was probably a misunderstanding, Raph. She’s been on our side for a long time now. Please just lower your voice, at least.”
Raphael was still wound up from the battle, Leonardo could see it in his face and in his posture. Tense, squared up, jumpy. His adrenaline was still going, and it probably wasn’t the best idea to agitate him further.
And he was staring, he was silent. Raphael wasn’t usually silent when he was angry, what was going on-?
Leonardo reeled back when Raphael lashed out at him, but not fast enough. There was a sharp crack, and he realized that there was blood dripping from his beak long before the pain actually registered. There was blood on the hothead’s knuckles, too, but he looked like something had suddenly clicked and he was definitely regretting what he did.
Leonardo, however, could not find the energy in himself to really care.
Raphael almost immediately began feverishly apologizing while Donatello tried to peer past Leonardo’s hand at his beak, scolding Raphael for striking out like that. Michelangelo yelled something along the lines of “that was uncalled for”.
“Leo, move your hand,” Donatello ordered, and Leonardo obeyed, pulling his hand away and seeing red. Oh, great.
“Well,” The resident doctor announced after a long moment, “I’m pretty sure it’s broken, but we’ll find out once we get home. Raph, when this is over, we are going to have a very long talk.”
Leonardo “hmm”ed softly as they started walking again, wiping blood off his face. The pain was, in the moment, actually manageable. It wasn’t too terrible, he really didn’t understand what the big deal was. Faces were easy to break anyway, he was fine as long as it didn’t really affect anything.
%%%
Once home, Donatello approached Leonardo with the first aid kit, clearly wanting to go to him first since he possibly had his beak broken.
But one glance over Donatello, and Leonardo knew that he should probably get some care first.
“Don, take a look at yourself, first. If you’re bleeding all over the place you can’t take care of anybody else.”
The purple-clad opened his mouth like he wanted to argue with him over that, before realizing that no, it was not an argument he was going to win. He lingered for a long moment, then turned away to deal with the others first. Leonardo smirked, knowing he had won, and turned his attention to cleaning his katanas and figuring out the best way to repair the chip in the blade.
Eventually, when Donatello returned, bandaged and looking a little more than annoyed, he grabbed Leonardo’s face and made him look at the genius before slowly bandaging his beak. Leonardo said nothing, although the movements jostled whatever was broken and made it sting, he refused to wince or hiss over something so small. While Donatello went on to cleaning and bandaging the other injuries, he confirmed his earlier suspicion.
“It is broken.”
Raphael flinched, like that was the worst thing in the world (Leonardo knew it was guilt, but didn’t say anything about that).
“Oh,” he said, mulling it over. Like he said, it wasn’t too bad, it was only his beak.
“What do you mean oh?” Donatello’s voice raised slightly, almost into a screech.
“I mean, it's not really that bad, right? It's not gonna, y’know, affect anything, it just hurts.”
Everybody blinked, astonished, before it clicked that of course Leonardo would be so unbothered by it, he was just Leonardo, he didn’t really have the energy, nor the will to care about things like that anymore.
Donatello scowled and Raphael still apologized anyway, Michelangelo was silent across the room, staring at Leonardo.
Leonardo had to cut Raphael off. It was fine, he was angry too, he knew that they still didn’t fully trust Karai, it was fine, it was fine.
He could still tell that Raphael was beating himself up about it, though. It was always clear, the hothead was like an open book.
%%%
It was two in the morning.
It was two in the morning.
It was two in the morning.
Raphael groaned and rolled over to slap the hand shaking him, presuming that it could only be Michelangelo.
Instead, the hand he grabbed was far more callused from endless hours of training, scarred from brutal battles that were long past.
He paused, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to get his head working. They had to fight blind plenty of times, they all learned to recognize each other just by the feel of their scales and hands. There was only one person who trained enough to get his hands that rough, free of childish innocence and soft skin.
“Leo?” Raphael mumbled, slowly sitting up and yawning, “What is it?”
“I need you to come with me, we’re supposed to meet up with Karai,” Leonardo whispered in the dark, still invisible to Raphael. They were-
“What?”
“Mhm. She texted me like, an hour ago. She wants to explain to the two of us. You, because you were so upset and me because, y’know.”
“Oh.”
Raphael blinked a few more times. His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and he could see a burning gaze fixated on him. It was almost creepy. After all, Leonardo always managed to be the stealthiest of them, so it was like those horror movies, just seeing a shadow, then bright eyes reflecting dim light and just. Staring.
He grunted and kicked out weakly to move the older of the two before he crawled out of bed, yawning again and stretching. “Alright, alright, let's go.” He didn’t even have his mask on yet, but this was clearly something that Leonardo wanted to get to quickly, and considering that Raphael planned on getting back to sleep immediately, he wasn’t too eager about getting his gear on for this event.
As they got going, he kept his eye on the bandages over his brother’s beak. Frick- He did that? Why? What was even his point? Instead of asking if Leonardo was angry, what came out was:
“Why'd she only want us to come?”
“Me and her are closer and you're more distrustful. Don and Mikey are just neutral towards her, she assumed they’d be less angry about it.”
“Oh.”
“Oh is right. Move faster, we'll be late at this rate.”
“It's the middle of the day for humans, Leo.”
“And? She will leave if we take too long.”
They neared what Raphael could only assume was the meeting spot, the roar of water getting louder until it was almost deafening. By the waterfall, Karai was leaned up against the wall, and Raphael’s rage flared up. That little-
He paused for just a second, trying to take deep breaths and soothe his anger. Something bad had already come out of it, he didn’t need anymore guilt on his mind.
Still, she smiled at them like nothing had happened, and didn’t even move to stand up straight. He wanted to wring her neck because of it. No apology? Nothing? No “sorry for abandoning you when you needed help”?
“What’s up?” she greeted casually, like nothing happened.
“You know what’s up,” he snarled, unable to help himself from snarking at her.
"Raph," Leonardo whisper-hissed, "Don't yell at her." After a moment to compose himself, the eldest met Karai's gaze evenly. "Still, we do want to know: Why?"
"Yeah, about that," Karai began, rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't really, y'know mean anything by it. I just knew an easier way to take it down quickly, and well, it'd be faster to do that, too, so…"
As she trailed off, Raphael shrank where he stood.
Oh. It really was a misunderstanding.
Leonardo nodded as if he understood what she had done and why she had done it. He probably did, too.
"Sorry, it uh, it probably looked like I was just leaving, huh? And uh, you're all definitely worse for wear."
Leonardo thanked her for apologizing, and Raph felt nothing as his brother did. that was not what he needed to make his night better.
Before he realized it, Leonardo was poking him, telling him Karai left a bit ago, he was waiting for Raphael to process, and they needed to go. Raphael nodded stiffly and walked in a daze, head down.
"You were right," Raphael mumbled at some point, getting a look and a "hm?". "It was just a misunderstanding. Sorry about- Y'know, about hitting you."
Leonardo stared for a long minute, leaving Raphael in uncomfortable silence for a bit before smiling, "It's alright, I already told you that, Raph.”
And there he went, just accepting the apology like it was nothing, because he was Leonardo.
Raphael turned on the TV when they got back, switching the channel to the news before settling down, unable to sleep. Leonardo, apparently, had the same idea, sitting down next to him. This time, silence was far more cozy. When they fell asleep there, nobody said a word about it in the morning.
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aurora-the-kunoichi · 5 years
Text
A Year Without - Part Two
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Warnings: Mention of alleged killings and rape
The back of your skull was throbbing as you slowly became aware of your surroundings. Your hands immobile outstretched and your feet anchored to the floor. By the soft tug of rope against your wrists you had been tied not shackled. A small silver lining to the shit show that was no doubt about to happen. The light was turned down low thankfully, you didn’t know if you could handle anything brighter then what the lights were set at right now.
Testing the strength of your bonds you found them cinch tighter as you struggled. If you worked them too much they would cut off the circulation to your hands and feet, not good. Your mind began to catch up with the rest of your body and the last moments you remembered were blurry at best. Karai had talked about her fun and a reunion. Then like a bolt of lightning it hit you, the green skin and enormous physique of the blurry mass converging on you. It couldn’t be Leonardo, he wouldn’t be helping the foot, wouldn’t be serving Karai. You had to have been hallucinating from the tranquilizer dart you were dosed with.
After what seemed like hours the lights in the room finally snapped on illuminating your prison. The walls were stark white, with one obvious large two way mirror near the door to your left.A hefty arm less grey upholstered chair sat in the far left corner of the room and a large metal table in the center, fucking cozy. The size of the room was rather large, maybe twenty feet by twenty feet and the smell reminded you of a hospital, sterile but sour.
“It’s rude to leave your guest waiting!” you hollered dryly to your captures eyeing the window with contempt. It was true, you had been sitting in this awful room for at least two hours unattended, let’s get this show on the road.
The sound of the handle turning gave way to your host as she sauntered into the space like she was the queen of fucking England. Her hips swung with gusto and her smile was honey sweet. No longer in her kunoichi garb Karai was dressed in dark sapphire skirt that hit just below her knees with a slit on the side that rode up nearly to her cunt. Her white quarter sleeve blouse was partially unbuttoned leaving her small yet perky breasts visible from the low V. The long black tresses of her hair were tied loosely up above her head while the black high heels that adorned her feet clicked sinfully on the cement floor as she made her way over to you. The cherry on top that completed her arrogant demeanor was a blue lollipop stuck playfully in her mouth and a large tablet in her right hand.
“Calm down my sweet, I wanted you fully awake for this next part.” Karai cooed stepping up to you her breasts pressing up against yours. Her breath was sweet from her treat and she leaned in close, “I have something I want you to watch.” Her wet sugary tongue darted out and took a quick lick of your cheek and jumped back as you tried to head butt the offending woman.
“Don’t you fucking touch me.”
“Tsk, tsk, what a dirty mouth you have. I have a gift for you Y/N, a gift of knowledge that only I can give you. Knowledge you’ve been searching for, for a year’s time.”
Your defiance slammed to a halt as Karai’s wicked smile grew to a terrifying level. Popping the treat make in her mouth her slender fingers drummed on the tablet as she leaned in again her lips brushing up against your ear. “Have you been searching for someone, someone special? Someone who went missing abruptly a year ago today?”
Your blood ran cold, she was talking about Leonardo. The foot has had Leo all this time. Anger bubbled quickly to the surface your limbs trembling as it consumed you. You were going to rip her fucking face off. “Where is he?! Where are you keeping Leonardo?!”  
“How long did you look for him?” she ignored your question stepping back turning on the tablet. Her fingers flew over the smooth surface searching for something. “How far did you search, the island of Manhattan, New Jersey perhaps? Maine? Either way it wasn’t going to be far enough, after we subdued him, which took quite a few of my men I might add. God he is strong and talented, by the gods is he talented.” You didn’t like the dreamy look in her eyes. “We didn’t keep him here, oh no, we didn’t want you to find him, what fun would that have been? So, the first thing we did was sedate big bad Leonardo and tossed him on a plane to Japan. He was sent to a very special facility where we house some of our most exceptional doctors and people we have acquired over the years with special gifts, gifts of persuasion if you know what I mean? Let me tell you, he was a hard nut to crack. But we knew this from the start so a process had to be started and it began with sociological warfare when poor ol Leo came too.”
Karai flipped the tablet to show you what she had been searching for, a security tape and the main focal point was Leonardo. His battered green body was shackled to the wall covered in blood. You could see the damage they had done to him on the roof. Cuts and gouges littered his once lustrous green skin making your rage boil hotter.  His person was stripped of all his belongings except his boxer briefs leaving him unprotected and vulnerable. He was obviously sans his mask with a long deep cut that ran up the back of his skull. He struggled yanking at his metal restraints demanding to know where he was being held and to be released but he was going nowhere.
A man in a grey suit slowly approached the leader in blue and held out a picture. You watched Leo’s eyes widen in shock and shake his head vigorously, “No!” he bellowed. “You’re lying!”
“They’re all dead Leonardo. When they came to save you they were slaughtered by Karai’s men one by one. The orange one, Michelangelo I believe his name was, fell first, he was the easiest to kill, a dagger to the throat was his end. I heard he begged for his life before Karai stomped on his neck effectively finishing him off. The purple, Donatello, was second; a katana between his shell angled up through his ribs did him in. A painful way to go if you ask me drowning in his own blood. Oh how I would have loved to have gotten a hold of his brilliant mind for study. Raphael the red brute was the most difficult to kill, took nearly 20 men to get him to the ground where they slit his throat. You should have heard him gurgle and grunt as he struggled to take his last breath. Your father was the easiest to find once we hacked Donatello’s computer system. It gave us a map right to his location and was slaughtered right in his bed.”
You couldn’t be 100% sure of what the man in grey was showing Leonardo but you were pretty sure it was a photo shopped picture of his dead brothers and father. But you knew it was a lie; all three of his brothers including Splinter were alive and well no doubt oblivious to your disappearance. But the photo must have been convincing enough, even through the poor video feed you could see the tears well up in his blue eyes. You wanted to call out to him, to tell him not to listen but that would be stupid and useless,  just like you were feeling right now.
Leo shook his head angrily blinking away the tears the threatened to spill. “No, you couldn’t have. My brothers are well trained and able to defeat your inadequate soldiers. Always have and always will.”
The doctor smiled and flipped another photo forward and the look on Leo’s face made your heart wretch inside your chest. “Your girlfriend was next, of course not before the men had some fun with her. You know when she cums she made the most beautiful sounds, like an angel. She cried out for you of course, but you weren’t there to save her. What a hero you turned out to be, couldn’t save your brothers or your love. Her end was swift if that pleases you, you can tell by the angle of her neck, quick and painless yet effective. Now you’re alone in this facility with no family and no lover. No one to save you, no one who cares.”  
Karai’s finger came up and paused the video with Leo mid scream, his face contorted in horror and fury in the last frame.
“Luckily we have a very good photo shop artist on hand that created several rather convincing death photos of all of you. It took a few days but as his body weakened from the lack of food and water he gave in to the plausible story. He was inconsolable for over a month hanging listless from his confines. We let that sink in before we started in on the physical torture.” Karai turned the tablet back around ignoring the horrified look on your face. “He cried out your name for several days after that. It was heart wrenching really, and I took pleasure in each agonizing syllable he cried out.” Her green eyes rose to meet yours and her free hand reached out wiping away the tears that were staining your cheeks.  
“I’m going to kill you.” You whispered with venom uncaring that the wretched woman had her hands on you. At this point you didn’t care; you had already killed her three times in your head.
“Oh I would love to see you try my dear.” Karai giggled returning her attention back to the tablet. A few more finger swipes and she turned it back around pressing play once again. The date on the time stamp said it was a month after his abduction, his eyes hollow and uncaring still hanging from his shackles. You could tell he had lost weight, in mass and in muscle. They must not been feeding him much.
Three men came into view all holding tazer sticks, their smiles wild with amusement. The first touched the hot end to the exposed side of Leo’s body between his plastron and carapace but Leo only shifted in his shackles groaning softly. Angered by the lack of his response, the other two men followed suit going in tandem shocking different parts of his skin. This time Leo arched crying out in pain. Over and over they attacked him all at once, Leo’s howls of anguish echoing in the empty room.
You wished the video didn’t have sound; the unnatural bellow of his agony would haunt you for however long they allowed you to live. The sight of his body recoiling from the current made you sick to your stomach. He had been here for a year enduring this torture, day in and day out. You weren’t there to help him, none of you were. He suffered alone with these animals, these heartless demons.
Again Karai stopped the feed and dropped the tablet back to her side and chomped down on the lollipop in her mouth finishing it off quickly. “You get the idea right? We put him through hell and broke him; we broke the legendary Leonardo; the man with the plan, the untouchable mutant. He was ours to mold, to retrain as we sought fit. It took longer than we expected, he was strong willed but no one can resist the charm of Dr. Langston for long. But Leo does hold the record for withstanding his treatments the longest. Dr. Langston was impressed to say the least.” The kunoichi laughed swinging away from you to walk back over to the door and knock twice. “He’s an obedient foot soldier now, and my favorite if I might add. But I’ll let you be the judge of that.” As the last words fell from her cherry red lips the door opened slowly.
Out of the darkened doorway he came, each step he took was of power and arrogance. Gone was his usual wear, replaced with jet black pants and specially made foot wear. Wide black leather wraps encompassed his thick forearms traveling up to intertwine with his three fingered hands. His blue katanas given to him by his father were absent replaced by two loosely hung red twin katana tied to his hip. Each shoulder had metal plates over them stamped with the Foot’s emblem and to complete the sinister look a black mask was worn where the blue once laid.
“Leonardo please don’t be rude, please go greet our new guest.”
As he closed in you saw his once brilliant cerulean blue eyes dulled to a grayish blue, the life once aflame in his stare was gone. There was no honor in his gaze as he looked you over like a piece of meat. No empathy and certainly no love for you. What had they done to him?
The last video you were forced to endure Leo looked frail and broken but that look was long gone. His muscle mass had returned leaving him looking toned and threatening. With each move of his body the muscle flexed and pulsed under his scaled skin making your body start to ache. If you had seen him in any other circumstance you would have though he looked good, good enough to eat.
“Leo?” you called tentatively tugging slightly on your bonds. Would he remember you at all?
As he neared you could tell the change in his smell. The hint of tea and incense was long gone overpowered by the stench of death and steel. His dull eyes narrowed in on you getting too close for comfort. His hand reached up cupping your chin tilting your head to and fro examining your face before his lips parted gifting you with the first sweet sound of his voice in a year.
“What a pretty little toy you’ve got Karai. Is she one of the reasons I was summoned to this country?”
The sound of Karai’s heals echoed throughout the room as she crossed over to the both of you. Her hands ran seductively down the dense muscles in his arms and pressed her lips to the tattoo there.
“Yes my love, she is a gift to you from me. This sweet little creature stole the other three of your kind from our master brainwashing them. And if she knows what’s good for her, she will tell us where they hide. But first I think it would be prudent to play with your gift. After all what good is a toy if you can’t play with it?”
“What do you think we should do first?” Leo clipped sinisterly squeezing your chin painfully tight in his massive grasp.
Karai’s ivory hand snaked up and around his thick neck tilting his head towards hers, “This one will lie and tell you that you once loved her, but let’s show her who you really belong too.” Her fingers twirled around the tails of his black mask and Leo leaned into her, his mouth slanted enthusiastically over hers. She immediately opened her mouth giving his tongue access making a show of it leaving you helpless to watch the love of your life kiss another woman.
Part One
@southernblossoms @blossom-skies @imthegreenfairy88
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brightlotusmoon · 5 years
Text
Another TMNT 2016 ficlet featuring my self as a character
Note: I have neat psychic powers and I study neuropsychology, but beyond that, hi!
***
The ringing in my ears faded and I became aware of a muscular arm holding me against a torso covered in hard keratin. Ah, right. Fire. Mikey. Falling out a window with Mikey to escape a burning building, my telekinesis utterly failing as I passed out. 
"Hnn...shhiiit.. Ah." My eloquence knew no bounds. I could feel bruises all over my body. Oh, the chronic pain issues will love that. 
I somehow lifted my head, and quickly shoved myself upward, flinging off the heavy arm draped over me. Oh, fuck, this was bad. 
"Mikey. Mikey. No, no, no, no… Mikey, you need to wake up, Mikey!"
I didn't want to shake him. His face was smeared with blood, his upper plastron very visibly bruised and cracked near the ribs with blood seeping through the scutes. I put my hands on his face and lowered my head to his mouth. 
Breathing, yes, he was breathing, but wheezy and thick… I swept my hands down his torso and looked at his legs. More blood. Fuck. Deep slices in his thighs. I glanced back at his head and saw the diagonal cut across his forehead. 
Okay. Where was my phone? Where was his phone? There, the long strap of my little shoulder bag, following it with my shaking hand led me to the smaller zipper section where my phone was. I pulled up my contacts and scrolled, and as if I wasn't the only psychic, the phone rang with Donatello's name. I inhaled and hit answer. 
"Donnie," I breathed. 
"Annie? Annie, are you okay? Is Mikey okay? I couldn't track his phone!" Donnie sounded frantic and panicked. 
"I… we jumped out a south window," I coughed. "Mikey...took the brunt when my teek shield failed. He's bleeding. It's bad, Donnie. He's unresponsive and his breathing is shallow."
There was a beautiful ding noise and Donnie whooped. "I'm tracking you now, Annie, hold on! We're coming!"
I clutched the phone and leaned against Mikey, not caring about the blood. "Not going anywhere. Love you all."
"Tell us that when we're all home," Donnie laughed breathlessly. 
I heard the deep scream of heavy tires and managed to press my lips to Mikey's face. Moments later I sensed three beloved minds, then bodies. Leo scooped me into his arms and nuzzled my head shakily, and I watched Raph cradle Michelangelo like a bird as Donnie assessed and injected. Mutagen. It would hopefully keep him stable if not start the healing process. I let myself sink into Leo's arms, the world growing fuzzy. I slid into a familiar astral plane and floated. 
Sometime later, I opened my eyes and found myself in Leonardo's bed. It was too quiet. My whole body ached. I was used to it, but not used to the quiet. I reached out with my mind and-
Mikey was still there. Deep, deep in the darkness. Somewhere. I let out a sob, and fell back to sleep. 
A soft image of someone else's thought floated in the distance: "...are you okay, Annie?" And my unconscious mind smiled. 
***
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tatorumaunten · 4 years
Text
@jenniika​ said  “I’m here- I’m here, now” || for 2k 1 6 Leo!! ||
Kidnapped and Tortured
{~⚔  Everything was a blur, he isn’t sure how, why or where he was, all he knew was that they were set out to prod him like a wild animal, see how much his threshold for pain was and just how hard it was before a bone would break. The days were melding together and he’s not sure exactly how much time has passed.
Now they were keeping him in a cell with no windows, it was cold and damp and his body ached more when every time he shudders. Breathing was excruciating, he’s absolutely sure that some of his ribs were broken, from where they repeatedly hit him on the vulnerable part, between the plastron and his carapace. A hug crack ran down his shell from were intense pressure was applied, he was’t aware of just how much that would hurt...until it happened. 
There was nowhere he could lay that was comfortable, but his right side hurt less. Chains were cuffed on both wrists, each ankle and around his neck. The only reprieve he got was when he lost consciousness.
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He isn’t a person to them, he’s not a living being that feels, just a thing...an animal to be experimented with. There was question on if there were more like him, but he never said, he never spoke a word about his brothers, or his friends. He kept them a secret, to protect them. Leo knew they would be looking for him, they would have found his last known location...his swords. 
A part of him hoped they would find him, but a deeper part hoped they wouldn’t. He didn’t want to risk them getting caught...or use him to subdue them. He was scared, he didn’t want to die but there was a possibility that he might, until, rousing to a familiar voice. 
Calm steady, but shaky. 
Shuddering breaths leave him as he cracks open his eyes to try and peer in the dark..a silhouette...familiar. 
“J-jennika?”  ⚔~} 
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