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#tmnt: beneath these streets
misteria247 · 1 year
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Sometimes your brain wife bitches just a little bit too much so you gotta take extreme measures-
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Ok ok hear me out Four Brothers and One Crush but 2007 TMNT
Pretty Human In Danger (Angst/Cracky)
2007!Turtles x reader
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A/N: This one is not exactly like Four Brothers and One Crush, since the 2007 turtles are quite a bit darker than the 2012 boys, but I hope this was what you wanted💚 Hope you enjoy💚🐢
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Warnings: Attempts of mucking, arguing and fighting brothers.
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Tension boiled just beneath the surface, as the four turtle brothers went out on their first training trip in years. With Leonardo’s return from South America came the old routines they used to have two years ago. Now, each brother had different reactions to this. Leo, who has spent two years trying to become a better leader, was focused. Distant but focused. Almost too focused for his brothers to keep up with him. Raphael was frustrated. He had now enjoyed two years of freedom, running through the nights as the Nightwatcher, not having to take orders from anyone. But with Leo’s return, he now had to step back in line, not that he intended to do so. Michelangelo was joyous, happy to have his oldest brother home once again, and even more happy to have something other to do, than to entertain wild children at birthday parties. Donatello too was happy to have Leo back home, and glad to leave his phone service job behind, even if he found himself mildly irritated by Mikey’s uncentered line of thoughts.
That night Leo had him and his brothers do pull ups on a water tower, wanting to see if they still had any strength left in their arms. And to be honest, Leo got disappointed. Mikey was the first to drop to the roof, complaining about the pain in his arms. Then it was Donnie. Once on the flat roof he laid back on his shell, trying to catch his breath. That left Leo and Raph in a silent competition, both wanting to be the last still doing pull ups on the water tower.
Mikey, who had grown quite bored with his two eldest brother’s competition, moved to the edge of the roof, deciding that staring down into the dark alley would be much more entertaining. And to Mikey’s credit, it was, just not in the way he had hoped for.
Down in the alley he catched a glimpse of a human, running in through the mouth of the alley. She threw scared looks over her shoulder, her fast breathing echoing against the brick walls, along with the shuffle of her running feet against the pavement. But that was not what Mikey noticed. At the sight of her he became blind to any signs of distress, his eyes focusing on the form of her figure. They way her hair fell, the shape of her lips, the curve of her nose, and the pigmented color of her eyes. She was absolutely beautiful.
“Woooow”, Mikey muttered, catching the attention of Donatello.
“What are you ‘wow-ing’ over?”, he asked, walking to Mikey’s crouched position. That was where he saw you, his eyes widening in the same way as Mikey’s had done, somehow not noticing your panicked expression when you realized you had hit a dead end. “Woooow”.
“What are you two dumb nuts ‘wow-ing’ about?”, Raph asked, fighting against the burning sensation in his arms as he pulled himself up one more time.
“There’s a hot chick in the alley”, Mikey said.
“Don’t objectify a woman, Mikey”, Leo said, not showing any signs of strain or tiredness, causing Raph’s frustration to grow.
“I’ll have to agree with Mikey on this one”, Donnie said. “She is quite good looking”.
Raph sighed out loud in annoyance, hanging slack in his arms before he forced himself to do another pull up. “Idiots…”
Four men emerged from the street, yelling out and pointing at you out at the end of the alley. You let out a sound of distress, backing up like an animal scared in the corner of a trap.
“Oh shit!”, Mikey exclaimed.
“Guys! She needs help!”, Donnie called out. Leo reacted fast, just like he had done through his time in the South American jungle, letting go of the water tower, just as Raph’s arms gave out, before making his way to the edge of the roof, katanas ready in both hands. Raph stood up from the roof with a grumble, rubbing his behind as that was what he had landed on, making his way to his brothers and the scene they were staring at.
The four men were slowly narrowing in on you, taunting you as they did, evil smirks plastered all over their faces. Leo had seen those kinds of expressions before in the jungle, remembering the men that had tormented the poor people that just wanted to live in peace.
“I got it”, Leo said, placing his foot on the edge, only to be pulled back by Raphael’s hand on the lip of his shell, as if he hadn’t just destroyed his arms on the water tower a moment ago.
“Hey, hey, hey, nooooo”, Raph said, pulling Leo back onto the flat surface of the roof. “Who says you get to save the pretty human girl?”
“I did”, Leo answered with a deadpan look.
“So?!”, Raph argued. “Maybe some of us know a thing or two about saving humans! Especially pretty ones!”
“You’re all weak and out of training”, Leo said, not noticing the way Mikey and Donnie exchanged glances, both having the same idea in mind.
“Weak?!”, the angry turtle yelled out, not seeing how Mikey and Donnie started pushing and pulling each other out of the way, both of them wanting to be the one to help you out. “Did you not see me up there?! You let go before I did!”
“I only let go because Donnie called for me”, Leo growled.
“For you! As far as I remember, he said ‘guys’!”, Raph roared, his hands moving wildly in the air above his head.
The two oldest of the turtles continued their argument as the two youngest continued their increasingly wild yet silent fight, about who got to be the first to go down there. The fight ended when Mikey bit down on Donnie’s hand, causing the purple clad turtle to let go of his brother in order to scream out in silent pain, jumping on the spot as he held onto his hand.
Mikey jumped off of the roof, landing just behind the four men, the thud causing all of them to turn and look, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the mutant turtle. Mikey smiled brightly at all of you, swinging his nunchucks around.
“Don’t worry, fair lady!”, the happy turtle said, posing like the superheroes in his comic books. “I will save you!” But he got no further in his hero actions before Donatello fell from the sky above, forcing Mikey down on the ground with a foot in his shell, only causing you and the goons to be even more surprised and confused. The men had had their run-ins with the Nightwatcher, but never had they been surprised by two… green… whatever they were.
“No, I was going to!”, Donnie said, making sure his brother couldn’t wiggle out from under his foot.
“Hey!”, it sounded from the top of the roof, where Raph and Leo stared down the people in the alley. Raph, not waiting for his brother’s order, Raph jumped over the ledge and down to the dark alley, followed by an annoyed Leo. It was here that the goons expected all four of the… frogs?... to jump on them, but they didn’t. Instead the red clad one went straight to the two others, a sharp finger pointing at them.
“If anyone gets to save the pretty human, it’s me!”, Raph yelled, poking Donnie so hard in the plastron that he stumbled off of Mikey.
“You?”, Leo exclaimed, turning Raph towards him in a sharp swing. “You’re impatient shell couldn’t save an unmoving rock, even if you tried!”
“You save a few animals in the jungle, and now you think you’re some kind of hero!”, Raph growled. “Step back, honor boy! If anyone gets to save her, it’s me!”
“No you don’t!”, Mikey yelled, now standing on Donnie’s plastron with his bow staff in hand, pretty much making it impossible for the turtle to get up off the ground. “I got down here first! I called it!”
“This is not a game of shotgun, Mikey”, Leo said, just before he heard the sound of a thud and a groan.
The four turtles looked in your direction, just in time to see one of the men fall to the ground, laying among the rest with you standing in the middle. Your stance wide and your fists in a fighting position. The brothers gasped when they realized what had happened when they had argued. While all the men had been distracted by the fighting turtles, you had taken them all down on your own.
“What a saving”, you mumbled, shaking your hand from the slight ache over your knuckles, not knowing how you had made their heart beat fast, heat rising to their cheeks. They knew you were good looking from the moment they saw you, but this caught them off guard.
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zprites · 1 year
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April TMNT All 4-1!
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IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING! I WROTE ABOUT BLUE OMGOMGOMG lol - Honestly had such a hard time with writing this month's prompt, hence why it didn't come out sooner... I kept losing concentration while writing buuuttt I think that's my mental illness talking. Plus the new Dragon Age playthrough I started, shhhh lol.
Apologizes in advance if it's kinda lacking 😭
The Lovely Hosts - @thelaundrybitch, @post-apocalyptic-daydream, @leosgirl82, and @turtle-babe83!
Prompt - “What are you doing in my bed?”
Rise! Leo x GN! Reader and SFW -- Characters are in their 20s! Enjoy!!
Taglist: @turtle-babe83, @manduse, @morning-sun-brah, @crazysarah-98, @pacoholin, @iamdefinitelytheratking
Close Your Eyes, I Got You Now
Close your eyes I got you now Fall into me, and I'll catch you darlin'... Fall Into Me - Forest Blakk
It started off like any other day for you - your alarm blaring after you hit snooze several times too many, tripping over that damned rug in your bathroom you always swore you’d replace if it happened again (which it always did), speeding out the door after hastily pulling yourself together with nothing in your stomach besides a few sips of coffee you’d managed before you cursed at the time. You moved seamlessly through the crowd of New Yorkers as each one made their way to their destinations. The nearby subway station was packed as usual yet you were able to squeeze your way onto the last train that would allow you to make it to your job just in time for your shift. 
After five stops you stepped out of the car and briskly walked toward the stairs leading up to the streets above, taking two at a time. A quick glance at your phone showed that you would make it on time with only seconds to spare. 
However you ended up misjudging the amount of steps left until you reached the landing causing your feet to blunder beneath you. Your hand clamped around the metal railing that was thankfully beside you, allowing you to catch yourself before you got a mouthful of concrete. Unfortunately at the same time the person behind you bumped into your body, their coffee (iced, thankfully) spilling over your form. Instead of apologizing for their lack of attention to the world around them, they shouted obscenities at you for a moment before rushing past you, nose going back into their phone within seconds as they blended into the sea of people.
You arrived at work five minutes late. Your boss took one look at the liquid dripping from your hair and work uniform and ushered you into the bathroom for you to clean yourself up. Thankfully your uniform was dark colored though your hair remained sticky and grimy, the scent of coffee lingering on you throughout the entirety of your shift. Your coworkers did little to help your evergrowing foul mood, one of them being particularly inept for one reason or another, leaving you to deal with the brunt of customer scrutiny. To top it all off, a particular encounter with an elderly woman who wanted to return merchandise they purchased over a year ago with no receipt had you at your absolute limit. 
And it wasn’t even noon.
You were so fucking done with the day…
After clocking out you made the trek back to your apartment, wanting nothing more than to take a nice long shower and enjoy the comfort of your home in solitude. You had nothing planned and you were so, so ready to veg out in your bed with nothing but a glass of wine and the cast of The Office for company. 
You let out a sigh of relief once you stepped through your front door, kicking off your shoes with dramatic flair as you locked the door behind you. A yawn escaped you as your sock-clad feet padded lightly against the wooden flooring as you moseyed over to your bedroom. 
“Sweetie! You’re finally home!”
You stopped dead in your tracks and groaned a bit on the inside when you took in the scene before you. Your boyfriend, who you noticed was wearing only a pair of joggers, was laying on your bed though upon seeing you he instantly sat up, beaming at you as his dark eyes shone with glee. 
While this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, and normally a welcome one at that, today was different. When you didn’t want to deal with anyone for the remainder of the day, you meant it. This included your loving, handsome turtle mutant boyfriend. 
You blinked a few times at him as the frustration that had been building up inside you threatened to boil over. A moment passed as you struggled to say something that wouldn’t come across as completely rude - you didn’t want to take your foul mood out on him. 
“What are you doing in my bed?”
As soon as the words left your mouth you cringed inwardly, slapping a palm to your forehead in your mind at your choice in words. The way you said them wasn’t any better if you were to be honest. Your voice asked the question with a tautness you had hoped wouldn’t upset him. 
It didn’t. Leonardo kept his smile plastered on his face as he began speaking.
“Well after you texted me during your lunch break, I thought it would be nice to surprise you.”
You frowned a bit. Did you text him? You couldn’t remember…
Which only frustrated you further. On top of your evergrowing irritation, you didn’t even realize you had texted your boyfriend to complain about the world that seemingly had it out for you from the moment you woke up.
“- wanted to cheer you up! I just placed an order for take-out from that chinese place you love a few minutes ago and…”
And here he was. 
The overwhelming feeling that you didn’t deserve him hit you like a ton of bricks in that moment.
“- watch whatever you want while I rub your feet… Hey, why are you crying?”
You were crying?
You brought a hand to cheek and felt the saltwater trail from where a single tear had escaped from the moisture that had accumulated in your eyes. A dam broke and you began sobbing in earnest, letting out all of the stress and annoyance that had built up over the day in a matter of seconds. 
“Hey now… C'mere." Leo soothed as he took your hands in his, gently pulling you closer to him. You let him, allowing him to maneuver you so that you were sitting on his lap sideways, head tucked into his neck as your shoulders shook. 
The two of you stayed that way for several minutes until you felt yourself eventually calm down, your eyes no longer producing tears as your crying had seemed to run its course. Leo held you firmly against his plastron, rubbing circles across your back to comfort you. 
“I’m sorry…” You got out past a sniffle. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” He spoke barely above a whisper. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “It’s just - today sucked. I was so happy to be home and have some much needed alone time, to decompress and forget about all the bullshit I had to deal with. I guess when I saw you here, I got even more upset, which is silly because I know you only want to help… I don’t know…” You trailed off. It was true, you felt extremely silly for the way you had reacted. 
“It’s okay, I understand. If I had known you wanted to be alone I wouldn’t have shown up unannounced like this.” 
You felt bad. Now that he was here, the idea of spending your evening with him sounded more favorable than spending it by yourself. You just wish you hadn’t broken down to the extent that you did. 
“I can go, if you still want to be left alone…” Leo offered with a hint of dejection laced in his words that would have been missed by most people. But not to you.
“No no no.” You lifted your head up to meet his gaze. “Stay, please.”
He smiled down at you, bringing a hand to wipe away the streaks on your cheeks. “Alright.”
The evening passed by slowly. Leo catered to your every need, insisting that you relaxed as he drew you a bath after the two of you had eaten. Once in bed he held good on his promise to massage your feet as the two of you laughed over several episodes of The Office. Eventually you started dozing off, your head rested on his shoulder as it became increasingly difficult for your eyes to stay open. You felt his lips press a kiss to your forehead as one final thought passed through your mind before sleep overtook you.
You knew that you could always count on him to turn even your shittiest of days into a good one. 
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raainy-daze · 1 year
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The Snatcher.
chapter one. ➼ [next.]
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rise of the tmnt x gn!reader [PLATONIC], rise!leo x gn!reader
summary: someone keeps stealing everyone’s things. nothing they’ve stolen has any correlation, and it’s anyone’s guess why they’re doing it. as time goes on, the list of crimes grows longer. reader just hopes no one realizes it’s them.
a box of parts has gone missing from donatello’s lab, and needless to say, he’s furious about it. just one heist in, and it’s already quickly turning into everyone’s problem.
word count: 2,868
a/n: guess who’s back with his first multi-chapter fic y’all
i’m gonna have another post regarding my return from hiatus with more details on that and my writing plans around the same time i post this, so please do check that out if you care about this blog!
in regards to the fic: i like to call this one “in which the reader is full-on just kind of an asshole and steals everyone’s stuff for no reason”. so, if you just so happen to be a little shit, congrats! this one’s for you. reader is in a relationship with leo in this, but that’s not really the focus, and it isn’t really even explicitly mentioned in this chapter.
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All was still.
It was well past dark in New York City. Of course, that didn’t mean much - it’s called the city that never sleeps for a reason. Above ground, traffic still raced on, people still yelled in the streets, the hubbub didn’t quit. But in some apartments, families closed their curtains, tucked their children into bed, and tried to ignore the clamor outside their windows.
Below ground was a slightly different story, however. Sounds were muffled by concrete, leaving the rush of cars and footsteps inaudible. Occasionally, you would hear the telltale rattle of the subway, but it was easy enough to ignore once you got used to it. Normally, in this strange home beneath the city, there would still be some sort of noise at this hour, but the Hamato family had retired a bit earlier than usual tonight. Splinter had even remembered to turn off the projector, which was rare enough to be notable. As far as the family was concerned, everyone was tucked into bed and sleeping soundly. Not a creature was stirring.
Except for one.
In contrast to the rest of the lair, the laboratory wasn’t totally quiet, nor was it totally dark. The machines which occupied the room produced soft whirring noises at all times, and had plenty of blinking lights to keep the room just barely illuminated. Most of it was a very dim light, but at the main desk with the most clutter, there was one brighter source. The computer was open to some Wikipedia page, and the light it produced fell softly on the face of a sleeping softshell turtle.
Normally, he would still be awake, working away on his various inventions. But this evening, he’d crashed far earlier than normal. Definitely unusual, but no one would be particularly surprised to hear about it. After all, he had gone without sleep for what? Three days now? It was only logical he would drop at some point, whether it be by his own will or nature taking over. He needed this sleep, everyone (except perhaps himself) would agree. It was a tad unfortunate, however, that he crashed when and where he did. For one thing, the desk littered with empty coffee cups and stray materials couldn’t be a very comfortable pillow, and far more importantly, he hadn’t had time to close anything down for the night. Some things were left running, and their batteries would likely be drained by morning. That was the least of his concerns, however. What he should, and likely would if he was conscious, be worried about was that nothing was locked. The door to the lab, the cabinets of valuable tools, nothing. His precious projects were left completely and utterly vulnerable, as he would find out when the morning came.
It was Friday evening, April 16th. The small clock in the bottom right corner of the computer read 11:24 PM.
That was when the Snatcher struck for the first time.
•°. *࿐
“I suppose you’re all wondering why I called you here today.”
It was Saturday morning, 8:42 AM. It wasn’t unusual for you to meet on a weekend, but it was a bit strange that it was so early in the morning. Saturdays are for sleeping in, after all, but that hadn’t been an option this morning, thanks to Donatello. You’d been woken up bright and early at 7:00 AM by your phone blowing up with notifications, demanding that you get to the lair as soon as possible because Donnie had a “code red emergency that he needs everyone to meet for ASAP”. A quick check with Leonardo, however, revealed that there wasn’t, in fact, a code red (something on fire, someone bleeding, or an alien invasion). According to him, Donnie had woken everyone up banging pots and pans at an absolutely ungodly hour, and was very passive aggressive all throughout breakfast. All of that, and he was refusing to explain why until everyone was present.
So, here you were, sitting in the main room of the lair at this mildly ridiculous hour of the morning with everyone. And when you said everyone, you meant everyone. Yourself, April, and the guys were the usual given, as well as Casey Jr. since he showed up. Cassandra was sitting over on the far right next to Sunita, and even Splinter had been dragged to this meeting, though he appeared to already be drifting off. Upon arrival, you had been informed that Draxum was also invited, but had refused. You supposed Donnie didn’t have the authority to argue there.
“Will you get to the point already?” Leo groaned next to you. “It’s been hours.” Raphael and Michelangelo looked equally annoyed and tired, and you couldn’t blame them, what with the stories you’d heard earlier. You considered regretting taking extra time for breakfast and prolonging their suffering, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to. It was some damn good breakfast, and they ought to be used to this stuff by now.
Standing in front of you all, Donnie sighed. “All right, all right, you guys have no respect for a good monologue.” He grabbed hold of the whiteboard he had rolled out of the lab earlier and dramatically spun it around. You squinted, trying to interpret the scribbles made in dry erase marker, but quickly gave up. He would undoubtedly explain it all to you regardless.
“Last night, sometime between 10:30 PM and 4:00 AM, someone broke into my lab!”
Everyone stared at him blankly.
“Donnie,” April said, “I was just in there. Nothing looked very broken into.”
“Yes, nothing LOOKED amiss, my dear April, but one very crucial detail!” He pointed towards one corner of his whiteboard, at what you now recognized as a diagram of the lab. He circled a drawing of what appeared to be a box he had very subtly labeled “GPS PARTS”. “This box” -he gestured again for extra emphasis- “contained–”
“Let me guess, GPS parts?”
“LET ME SPEAK!” Donnie took a deep breath and returned to his drawing. “Yes, it contained GPS parts, very important GPS parts I just bought to use on my brand new upgrades to the navigational system in the Turtle Tank, more specifically the parts needed for the antenna, but I know you all start yelling when I go on science tangents, so for your sakes, I won’t elaborate.”
“Thanks, it’s much appreciated.”
Donnie made an expression you quickly recognized as the “trying to blow Leo up with his mind” face.
“And what happened to the parts, Donnie?” April asked.
“Why, thank you for asking. Well, this morning when I awoke…” Donnie took an eraser, held it up, and suddenly began erasing the box far more violently than he really needed to. “IT WAS GONE!”
Donnie’s yell woke Splinter up with a start. “Wh-” Sunita leaned over and whispered a quick summary of the situation. “Oh, that is what you are so mad about? You lost your, uh, things?”
“They weren’t lost, Father, they were clearly stolen!” Donnie was becoming more frantic by the moment. “I checked and double checked their exact position several times last night, to be perfectly sure I wouldn’t loose them! And yet, this morning, they were gone! And they had to have been stolen by SOMEONE IN THIS ROOM! Or Draxum.”
He waved an accusatory finger at… well, everyone. “Everyone present in this room was present last night for our Jupiter Jim: Atomic Lass Dies Again 2 viewing, as you all know!”
This was a fact. Yesterday, everyone in your circle had been invited (or dragged, in Draxum’s case) to watch the new JJ movie the second it came out on DVD. It had been fun, but you doubted anyone there expected to be a suspect by the next morning. Well, except for the perpetrator, you supposed.
“Are you sure, Dee?” Casey Jr. actually looked pretty concerned. He always seemed to take these things a bit more seriously, probably because he wasn’t as used to it. “I mean, you really think someone in this room would steal from you?”
“Oh, you sweet summer child, multiple people in this room have stolen from me. In fact, most people in this room have stolen from me. Some more than others.” He gave a pointed glare in Leo and Cassandra’s directions.
“Do you have any proof?” Cassandra glared right back.
“Yes, Cassandra!” Donnie once more slapped the diagram. “The fact that it’s gone! The fact that there is an outline in the shape of a box entirely free of dust! The fact that whichever one of you who did it (probably Leo) is an–”
“Whoa, whoa, are you accusing me? Your own twin brother?” Leo put a hand on his chest, commencing with his usual theatrics. “Dude, I thought we had a bond!”
“Leonardo, this would be far from the first time you’ve stolen my stuff!” Donnie pointed at him in response. “My tools! My clothing! Anything in my lab you thought looked cool! Even Penelope Platypus!”
“Penelope Platypus?”
“Don’t ask. Never ask about Penelope Platypus,” Raph whispered.
“Understood.”
“Okay, okay-” April stood up from her spot and walked over to Donnie. “Everyone, let’s just-”
“I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR PENELOPE PLATYPUS-”
“Donnie, let’s just calm down!” April grabbed Donnie’s arm and lowered it. “Do you not have any security cam footage?”
“No, April, I do not, because as I conveniently told you all yesterday, all my security measures are under maintenance!”
“Fingerprints?”
“Already checked. Whoever it was, they knew exactly what they were looking for and didn’t touch anything else. Believe me, I have been looking since 4. A. M.”
“Okay, what’s all the rest of this on your board?”
Donnie cleared his throat, but not before sending one last nasty glance his brother’s way. “Well, here I have a list of any possible motivation our thief could’ve had. Leonardo, mischief, Cassandra, mischief, Draxum, turning back into an evil supervillain stuff, Mikey, an insane level of dumb luck and obliviousness-”
“Okaaay.” April cut him off before he could go down the whole list, but you could just make out your own name below Mikey’s. Anything else written on the board, however, was pretty much lost to time thanks to Donnie’s illegible handwriting.
April picked up a dry erase marker from the bottom of the board, and began making amendments to Donnie’s notes. “Well, we know it couldn’t have been me or Sunita, since we left while you were still awake.” She crossed out both names. “Mikey also went to bed pretty early, but I guess he could’ve gotten up and come back downstairs.” She placed a question mark next to Mikey’s name. “If our thief did know what they were looking for, then who did you tell about these parts?”
“Well, I told you, of course.” April began making checkmarks as Donnie listed names. “I also told Casey Jr. when I was teaching him how refrigerators work.”
You decided not to ask.
“I mentioned it to Father, but I doubt he was listening, since he clearly doesn’t often.” He paused as he stared at Splinter, who took a full seven and a half seconds to space back into reality and notice.
“Oh, are we done? Wonderful, I’m missing the latest episode of-”
“No, Father, we are not done!”
“Also, we don’t get cable,” Raph pointed out.
“Alright, and that’s everyone?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Alright. So we’ve got ten total suspects, two with a solid alibi, three with inside knowledge, and…” April muttered to herself as she read over Donnie’s guessed motivations. How she managed to read those, you had no clue. “... two with a reasonable motive. Not a lot to go off of.”
“Well then, on to my planned second step; I will now be questioning each of you in order from oldest to youngest.” Uh oh. “Father?”
“Uh- yes, Purple?”
“WHERE WERE YOU THE NIGHT OF APRIL 16TH?”
“... I believe I was here. I also believe that was yesterday.”
You exchanged a look with Leo. This was going nowhere - Donnie was just going to yell a lot, and eventually Cassandra was going to start yelling back, and then everyone would be yelling, and it would just be really loud. You pulled out your phone as discreetly as you could, and began typing.
was it you?
be honest i swear i won’t tell anyone
no!!! i went straight to sleep after you left
i didn’t go anywhere near the lab
i assume you wouldn’t be asking if it was you
well duh
should we tell him raph slipped sleeping meds in his coffee
no, that’ll just make it worse
raph wouldn’t do it anyways, he’s too nice
point taken
so what are we supposed to do
watch it play out?
you read my mind
You looked up from your phone, back at Donnie, who had moved on from Splinter to Cassandra. This would be fun.
“WHY THE HELL WOULD I TAKE IT? I WOULDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!”
“YOU HAVE ONE OF THE TOP MOTIVES, CASSANDRA!”
“AND WHAT KIND OF MOTIVE IS THAT?!”
“TO SPITE ME!”
“TO SPITE– oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”
“SO YOU ADMIT IT!”
“I ADMIT TO NOTHING!”
“Oh my god, they’re going to kill each other.” You sincerely doubted you would see anything as entertaining as this for the rest of the week. It was pettiness at its finest, and you’d acquired quite a number of insults from watching fights this way. You knew it was only a matter of time until someone (Cassandra) threw the first punch, and then it was only a matter of time until someone (Donnie) threw the first explosive. But alas, it would be over too soon for that.
“April, you get Donnie.” Raph sighed as he stood up, and scooped Cassandra up remarkably easy. At the same time, April grabbed Donnie, preventing him from trying to hit Casey Sr.
“Look, Donnie, I can understand why you’re upset, but fighting isn’t really the best way to fix this.”
“But it is a way.”
“Maybe, but–”
“Don, I’ll help you find your parts.” April cut Raph off. She sounded pretty exasperated at this point. “Just stop screaming before everyone’s eardrums explode.”
“I was not screaming-”
“Yes you were. Now come on, I wanna see the crime scene for myself.” April began dragging Donnie off to his lab. Casey stuck her tongue out at him, and you just caught him flipping her off before disappearing into the lab.
Raph set Cassandra back down, and she muttered something that sounded a lot like a very targeted insult.
“Well, that was certainly… something,” Sunita commented.
“Something, indeed.” Mikey nodded.
“Okay.” Raph turned back to the group. “You know I trust all of you…”
“But you’re gonna accuse one of us of stealing some dumb science crap?” Cassandra raised an eyebrow.
“No! No.” Raph smiled sheepishly. “But, if it was any of you… Just, please give it back. He will not let this go, and I don’t know if our sanities will survive it.”
“Hey, hey, April’s on the case now!” Mikey chimed in. “I’m sure she’ll solve it in no time! She’ll catch our… our Snatcher!”
“Our what now?”
“The Snatcher! It’s what I just decided to title our resident thief.”
“We’re naming the thief?”
“Now, now, Casey Jr., every thief needs a good name.” Mikey patted Casey on the shoulder a couple of times, looking very proud of himself.
While everyone else was talking over the new name and what could’ve happened to Donnie’s stuff, you walked over to the whiteboard. You weren’t really interested in the lab diagram; you also weren’t sure what part of this required an entire corner of the board being dedicated to math equations.
You squinted at Donnie’s scrawled handwriting, trying to make out the notes at the bottom of the board. On the motives list, you found your name, which was just barely readable. It took you a few seconds to translate what was written next to it.
Scheming.
That didn’t sound too different from Leo and Cassandra’s “mischief”, but hey, it sounded better, so you weren’t going to complain. You’d have to ask Donnie what he meant by the difference next time you saw him.
You grabbed the marker and wrote down several notes regarding what had occurred last night. You had stayed in Leo’s room for a while before you left, so you could provide alibis for each other in that time frame. You hadn’t seen Cassandra on your way out, nor had you seen anyone else up. You wrote down the rough time you left, as could be verified by Leo, and wrote down that you had seen a light from under Mikey’s door.
Finally, you wrote “The Snatcher Case” at the top of the board, followed by “(y/n) was here :)” in the bottom corner.
You smiled to yourself before going to grab your things and get ready to leave. You were eager to watch this play out.
You couldn’t wait until you enacted phase two of your plan.
It was 9:57 AM, Saturday, April 17th. The Snatcher waltzed right out of the lair, and no one suspected a thing.
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cnwolf-brainrot · 5 months
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I spent WAY too long on this, but I wanted to try drawing in different TMNT styles so here we are; I took Eight from Fallen Renegades and turned him into a TMNT character from a bunch of different versions!
If anyone wants to use this template I posted it here!
Lore dump beneath the cut!
Usual Appearance/TMNT-ified (my style)
This is Eight's usual appearance throughout Fallen Renegades! He's a young burmese cat who was accidentally given pyrotechnic abilities when he escaped the lab he grew up in. He can't entirely control these abilities, especially near the beginning of the series. He's helped out of the lab by a mutant wolf-bat hybrid, Okami, who then takes him under her wing (literally) and becomes a mother figure to him. His story wouldn't change much when TMNT-ified other than the fact that he would inevitably run into the turtles!
1987
If Eight were in the 1987 show, he would probably be a minor character who causes problems for one episode. He started off as a lab intern who got caught in a laboratory fire and turned into a cat mutant. This version of Eight doesn't have any fire powers, he's just a cat mutant that the turtles have to figure out how to un-mutate or something. He and Okami wouldn't interact in this version, though I'd like to think she'd appear at some point.
2003
Eight would be much more of a reoccurring character in 2003. He started out as an alley cat who happened to stumble across some ooze that the Purple Dragons were stealing for Baxter Stockman. He gets mutated and ends up on Stockman's radar, and much of his time in the series is spent fighting against Stockman -- who is convinced that dissecting Eight would give him clues on how the mutagen works and how to replicate it. He also claims ownership over Eight since he wouldn't have been mutated without Stockman's influence. When he's not running from Stockman, Eight tends to stick around the streets of New York, often fighting Purple Dragons. He meets Casey Jones before he meets any of the turtles and ends up taking after him, often carrying a baseball bat as a weapon. This version of Eight doesn't have any natural fire powers, but he's the biggest arson on this list; he always has some sort of lighter on him, and enjoys lighting stuff on fire just for the fun of it. Both Eight and Okami would be introduced separately in this version and make a few appearances on their own throughout season one before they meet at some point during season two. After they meet Okami ends up taking Eight in, and they appear together from then on.
Bayverse
Honestly I don't have a ton of lore for Bayverse. He and Okami were probably both created by Baxter Stockman the same way that Bebop and Rocksteady were. Okami broke them both out and they somehow got involved with the Turtles. I'm not entirely sure story-wise, but design-wise I thought it would be interesting for this version of Eight to lean into a very different Burmese cat pattern, adding to that more realistic and more different look. That was a lot of fun to mess with!
2012
2012 Eight was mutated by the Kraang in an experiment to add useful secondary mutations to their creations. Okami was another part of this experiment, and she and Eight ended up in neighboring containment cells. Okami's experiments focused more on the physical aspects of mutation while Eight's focused more on the internal, and when his pyrotechnic abilities kicked in it was extremely destructive. Okami was able to use the destruction to break them both out, and they were able to catch a portal to Earth. The two of them spend most of their time in the show in Kraang-related conflicts, often aiding the turtles when needed because Eight made friends with Mikey.
Rise
In Rise, Eight starts out as a little alley cat that follows around Okami, who is a world-renowned professional boxer. Okami is a human in this version and sees Eight as more of a pet until they are both bitten by oozequitoes and they become more of a mother-son duo. This version of Eight is a pre-teen who is ready to fight anything that moves. He's feisty, scrappy, and a bit of an annoyance until he starts to mature in season 2. Turns out Okami's actually a distant relative of Splinter's and actually has Hamato blood, and since her DNA was mixed with Eight's when he was mutated he ended up inheriting some of the Hamato ninpo, which grows stronger as he begins to interract with the turtles and other Hamatos. He goes through a stage of hearing the Hamato ghosts -- who are primarily confused and angered by this random, inhuman child tapping into their powers -- and his ninpo ends up taking form in uncontrollable, explosive flames. The turtles help him control it somewhat, but it's still an unstable and artificial form of the Hamato's gift.
Rise Movie (the future version that's not super clear on the template)
Okami is killed in the Krang takeover, and with her last breath she transfers her remaining ninpo over to Eight. This along with the pure necessity of their apocalyptic world help Eight to finally get his abilities under control, and he becomes one of the most powerful mystic warriors in the world -- behind Mikey, of course. He works alongside the turtles to fight with the Resistance. His name "Eight" comes from the legend that cats have nine lives, and after a close call during the initial takeover his friends jokingly start to call him Seven. He has another near-death moment a year or two later, and they go down to Six. This happens a few more times throughout the years, and by the time they get to Four everyone collectively decides to keep it there. The joke has started to get a little bit too close to reality, and no one likes the idea of counting down till a friend's death; he's called Four until he gives his life protecting the Resistance.
Mutant Mayhem
TCRI began working to recreate Stockman's mutagen as soon as they raided his lab. A few of their test subjects included a certain burmese kitten and wolf, which they deemed to be failures. However the tests they ran on Eight ended up sparking other abilities in him -- literally. It was in the midst of the lab fire that Eight sparked that more of TCRI's mutagen prototypes were spilt, and the heat of Eight's flames made them a bit more effective. Okami grabbed him and dragged him out of the lab, and in the process both animals got a second dousing of mutagen that was much more effective than the first. Okami ended up raising Eight and took on a very similar mindset to both Splinter and Superfly; everyone is evil, stay safe and hidden. Eight grew up with a very protective mother figure and some very dangerous powers, but he's still a spunky little guy who is really just excited to have some people to actually talk to when he meets the turtles.
This was so fun to make and I am HIGHLY considering drawing it out with Okami (especially since Okami WAS a TMNT character before Fallen Renegades became a thing) but this also took me like two weeks to draw so lol we'll see.
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taizi · 1 year
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Didn’t want to overwhelm what I’m sure is a very full inbox, since I’ll admit I have submitted a few requests before — but periodically I can’t pass up the chance when you say they’re still open (pending your whim, of course, as it should be). so anyway. I ADORE your tmnt 2003/2012 crossover where the 12s are looking for their sensei, all from 03s POV. And then I ALSO ADORE the 2012/Rise, from 12Mikey’s POV about Little Blue. So — any chance you fancy a 2003/Rise crossover? Perhaps an 03Leo observation of the absolutely terrifying raw power these bitty baby turtles call ninpo? 03Donnie trying to make sense of RiseMikey yeeting a cargo ship? Rise boys pointing out 03Raph’s accent as the only new yorker? that’s a bunch sorry have a lovely day!
x
It happens on an unremarkable Tuesday night, as they’re heading home from a relatively quiet patrol. Raph is grumbling under his breath because he still has energy to burn, and one tussle with the Dragons was about one-tenth of the outlet he was looking for. 
Mikey’s natural state of being is still-has-energy-to-burn and he walks backwards to make a moue of false sympathy in Raph’s direction.  
“Aww, poor Raphie,” the little menace coos. “We’ll find you another head to knock, I promise.”
“Won’t have to look very far, there’s one right here,” the red-banded turtle growls, and dives after him. Mikey shrieks in combination terror-excitement and darts around the other side of Leo. Leo allows himself to be circled, looking as though he’s ready to go straight to bed when he gets home, where at least he won’t have to deal with any annoying little siblings for the next six solid hours. 
“Hey, um,” Donnie says from somewhere behind them. “Umm, Leo? Guys?”
His tone draws Raph up short. He turns with the long tails of Mikey’s mask still caught in his fist, while Mikey continues to squawk and flail. Leo is already moving out from in between the two of them, abandoning the youngest to his fate and approaching Donatello swiftly. 
He doesn’t even need to ask what caught the genius’ eye. Donnie is staring at a bright point of light above the street. It hovers for a moment and then begins to open wider, warm and yellow and glowing. 
As Raph watches, something falls through. Someone. He barely has a second to make out the vaguely human shape of the body before the mask tails in his hand are yanked away and his smallest brother is racing forward across the rooftop like a bullet. 
Leo makes an aborted move to stop him, but there’s no point. Mikey has always been the fastest of the four and he has always, exclusively, only ever done what he wanted to do. Really, Raph shouldn’t even be surprised. 
Mikey catapults off the parapet, collides with the body before it can fall more than a few feet toward the unforgiving asphalt eight stories below, and brings it safely to the roof of an adjacent building, taking the brunt of the fall in a neat barrel roll. 
“Ugh, he’s gonna be bragging about that catch for weeks,” Raph mutters, keeping pace with Leo as they follow him over. 
Donnie is way ahead of them both, easing the body out of Mikey’s arms by the time the eldest turtles catch up. It’s a green-skinned teenager, with the oh-so-familiar built-in armor of a turtle shell. The red stripes on his face, and yellow ones down his arms and legs, are obscured almost entirely by grisly bruises and a not-insignificant amount of blood. Most tellingly, the kid is wearing a bright blue ninja mask. 
“Oh,” Don says, pausing in opening his medkit. He rubs one hand gently over the little mutant’s bruised forehead. “It’s another Leo.”
It says something about their lives that this isn’t the weirdest thing that’s ever happened on a Tuesday. Above them, the portal the kid came through is closing rapidly. The light goes with it, dwindling until it’s gone.
“He’s tiny,” Mikey says, all the joy and irreverence from a few moments ago blown clean out of his expression. Raph doesn’t like to see him look so worried, brow creased beneath his sunny orange mask. “And he’s hurt bad.” 
“What the hell happened to him?” Raph rumbles, arms folded tight across his own plastron. It rankles to see any version of Leonardo injured like this. “And where the hell are his brothers?”
“They can’t be far,” Leo says, because it’s unspoken that where one of them goes, they all go, no matter what backwards dimension they might come from. He kneels next to his younger brothers and looks over his small counterpart with grave eyes. “But there’s no time to wait. He needs stitches at the very least. Donnie, can we move him?”
Donnie finishes packing the sluggishly bleeding gash above the kid’s knee with a temporary bandage and tapes it down, then sets about the rest of his medical examination, brown eyes troubled. 
“There’s a crack in his shell that concerns me,” he says, probing around the kid’s neck with careful fingers. “And he almost definitely sustained some head trauma. I just can’t be certain about a spinal injury. I don’t want to risk permanent damage by manhandling him into the sewers. There’s also—oh.”
Donnie’s hands pause where he’d been feeling down the kid’s right arm. He pulls it out carefully from where it’s sandwiched between the kid’s side and Mikey’s plastron. Raph stoops to get a closer look at whatever got Donnie’s attention and then feels his chest go tight with rage.
They’re chains. Tiny, glowing links of burnished gold, almost translucent, wrapped firmly around the strange mutant’s forearm. And his fist is clenched around what looks like a piece of paper, but the chains are more concerning.
“Hey, uh, what the fuck,” Mikey says loudly. His hands on the kid’s shoulders tighten there protectively. “Can we get those off?”
“Let’s try,” Leo says, his own eyes whited-out and narrowed. He tests the chains with a touch, the way of someone testing the elements on a stove to see if they’re hot. When nothing happens, he grips one of the chain links firmly and begins to pull. 
Raph, Donnie and Mikey all jump at the same time when Leo suddenly yanks his hand away with a hiss.
“What?” Donnie blurts. “What happened? Did it burn you?” 
“No, it—it bit me,” Leo replies, shaking out his hand. 
The golden chains glow a little brighter as the brothers watch, and now there are bright purple sparks trailing warningly up and down the length of them like an electric current. Raph eyes the purple warily. It looks like it bites. 
“Try a knife?” Mikey says, tone upturned at the end because he’s as much out of his depth as the rest of them are. 
Donnie hums, brow wrinkled thoughtfully, and works a kunai out of his belt. He slides the edge under one of the chains without issue, but the moment he starts to apply pressure, the orange glow and purple sparks become limned with red, like some kind of armor. The chains constrict slightly, biting tighter into the kid’s arm. 
Back off, they say, as clearly as anything without a voice ever could. 
“Leave it for now,” Raph says. He won’t say it out loud, aware of how stupid it would sound, but that color combination alone soothes some of the jagged uncertainty he has about this whole situation. “It ain’t like Little Blue’s a prisoner. We can deal with the chains once we’ve dealt with the obviously broken bones.”
Leo nods, on the same page for once. “Can you wake him up, Donnie?” 
“Actually, I have just the thing,” Donnie says, like that’s some big surprise, hauling his satchel around and digging through it for a moment. That thing might as well belong to Mary Poppins, and he proves it nearly every day. Sure enough, Don emerges victorious with a container of tiny capsules. Shaking one out into his palm, he says, “Smelling salts. Sort of. My own spin, anyway. Mike, brace him as best you can, okay?” 
“You got it, Doc,” Mikey says, picking the parts of the kid’s chest and shoulder that look the least beat-to-hell and planting his hands there. 
Donnie snaps the capsule and waves it under Little Blue’s beak. It takes all of three seconds for the kid to give a violent full-body jerk, flailing wildly and going nowhere beneath Mikey’s steady grip. His eyes fly open, a burst of bright gold, and dart around frantically. The left eye is bloodied. Raph can feel his metaphorical hackles going up, because someone obviously beat the shit out of this kid, and he can’t be much older than fifteen. 
“Hey, easy,” Mikey says, in a light, breezy tone, “you’re okay, you’re safe.” 
“Okay, we can knock spinal injuries off the list,” Donnie says. He looks like about a hundred pounds of stress was just lifted off his shoulders. 
Little Blue squints at them, all woozy. When he finally finds Mikey’s face, probably little more than a green and orange blur from his perspective, he relaxes visibly. 
“Dee’s tryin’ to experiment on me again,” he whines. “Make ‘im stop or I’m telling Raph.”
Message delivered, he slumps back into sleep after that—apparently reassured by his present company, looming threat of unwilling experimentation notwithstanding. Donatello looks bewildered, and glances sidelong at Raph. Raph shrugs. Leo huffs out a laugh, sitting back on his heels. 
“I’d know that tone anywhere. If he’s not the youngest, he’s close.”
“He’s just like me for real,” Mikey pipes up, grinning widely. “Home?” 
“Home,” Leo confirms. “Can you carry him?” 
“Uhh, are you kidding? He’s probably about as heavy as a handful of grapes.” 
“We need to be careful with his arm. The, uh, unchained one. It’s broken in a couple of places. And try not to jostle his leg, either. And his shell—”
“Don, we get it,” Raph says, not unkindly. “Fragile, handle with care. Hear that, chucklehead? No razzmatazz.” 
Mikey makes an offended noise and Leo cuts them off at the pass with the grace and finesse of someone who’s been single-handedly dealing with their shit for the better part of twenty years. “Let’s go Mikey. We’ve been out here too long already, and that light-show might have attracted some attention. I’ll call sensei once we start moving and ask him to prepare the infirmary bed for us.”
It’s a group effort to get the kid folded into Mikey’s arms in a manner that doesn’t upset Donnie’s doctoral sensibilities. But he’s such a scrawny stringbean that Mikey carries him with the same level of effort Casey might use to haul around a couple twelve packs of Cherry Coke. 
Little Blue, for his part, only squirms to get comfortable and smushes his cheek against Mikey’s shoulder without waking. He’s clearly used to being hauled around. Raph won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it, but he thinks Leo was probably right. That’s little sibling behavior if Raph’s ever seen it. 
Splinter takes the arrival of a fifth turtle in the lair like a champ. It’ll be a cold day in hell when they manage to surprise their dad for real. His aged brown eyes are gentle as Mikey sets the kid on the cot, and he lingers nearby as Donnie prepares the fiberglass for the arm cast. He’s probably remembering when Fearless was that small. 
Splinter manages to work Blue’s fist free of the paper he was clutching and smooths out the creases. It looks like it might be a photo. Whatever it is, it causes the rat’s eyes to get very old and very sad. He puts it back in the little mutant’s hand and closes his fingers around it again. 
Somehow Little Blue manages to sleep through the stitches and the setting of his broken arm. He doesn’t even stir as he’s tipped onto his side so ointment can be applied to the crack in his shell before the edges are smeared with epoxy and forced back together. 
He could probably use the rest—he looks like he just tumbled out of the end of the world. Donnie isn’t concerned about the prolonged stint of unconsciousness only because the kid was awake for a few minutes and coherent enough to form sentences, as confused as they were. 
The chains have dulled to the barest glow. Every now and then they light up like Christmas, but only for a minute or two. Mikey dubs it “energy-saving mode.” It’s remarkably un-reassuring. 
The whole clan eats dinner in the infirmary in a bunch of mismatched chairs, all of them reluctant to leave the battered child’s side. The second time one of his brothers starts to nod off, Raph makes the executive decision that he’ll take first watch.
Because none of his siblings know how to do anything the easy way, he has to all but run them out at blade-point. 
“I know for a fact that you haven’t slept in three days, Don,” Raph says mercilessly. Donnie withers like a little overwatered plant when sensei’s sharp eyes descend upon him. “And Mikey, you’re barely any better than him. I will gladly throw you under the bus next, try me.”
“And we call Leo the mother hen,” the youngest grumbles, only to squeak and dive behind Leo when Raph advances a single threatening step in his direction.
“C’mon, you two,” Leo says, herding them out. “We can have a sleepover in the den. That way we’ll hear it if Raph calls us.”
It’s an unspoken request for Raph to wake them if anything happens. Raphael salutes him only semi-sarcastically and takes up camp next to the cot. Splinter draws a chair up beside Raph’s, whiskers twitching with amusement as Mikey whines from the living room, “But I won’t even be able to sleep!”
“He’ll be out like a light in twenty,” Raph says dryly.
“Ten, if Donatello puts on “How It’s Made,”” Splinter replies with equal parts exasperation and affection. He puts one clawed hand on Little Blue’s forehead, and goes on, “It was good of you to bring him here.”
Wondering if he’ll ever outgrow the uncomfortable feeling he gets from any sort of praise, Raph spins a sai for something to do with his hands and mutters, “Well, yeah. Us turtles gotta look out for each other. It’s not like the humans are gonna do it.”
Splinter kindly moves on. “The boy’s qi is very bright, for all that something has recently attempted to snuff it out. I can tell he was raised in a home full of love.”
“Someone’s gotta be missin’ him,” Raph agrees. It makes his stomach sink to think of some version of his family missing their Leo. 
Reading Raph’s mind as easily as he always has, the rat transfers his hand to his son’s arm and pats gently. “We will make sure that he finds his way home. Now,” he adds in a brighter tone, “tell me about my two youngest refusing to take proper care of themselves. I need to know how many flips to assign.”
Grinning, Raphael settles in to spend these quiet early morning hours gossiping with his father. 
He must doze off himself at some point, because his senses kick him awake the second before a heavy thud would have. He jumps to his feet, but Splinter raises a hand to calm him.
“Our guest is up,” the rat says mildly. “Collect your brothers.”
Normally, Raph would have something to say about leaving his father alone with a potentially dangerous unknown variable. In this case, he catches sight of two very bright, very frightened gold eyes staring at him from behind the cot, and decides Splinter is probably on the right track. Surprise, surprise. 
So Raphael backs up toward the door, scrutinized every inch of the way. As he’s leaving, he hears the kid say, in a tone that’s aiming for demanding and landing somewhere around plaintive instead, “Who are you? Where’s my dad?” It makes Raph want to hit something. 
His little brothers are fast asleep in a pile on the sofa. Leo is also actually resting for once in his goddamn life in the armchair, curled up with his limbs all folded like a pretzel. The TV is still on, but the volume is turned almost all the way down. Raph makes it a single step into the room before Leo’s eyes slide open, meeting Raph’s unerringly in the low light. 
“He’s up,” Raph says plainly. “And he’s a little freaked out. Kinda got the idea that sensei wants us to make ourselves scarce for a bit.”
Leo nods. With his mask slung around his neck like a bandanna, the worry lines between his eyes are more obvious. 
“Let’s make breakfast,” he decides. “You and I can handle a few omelets.”
Mikey usually takes charge of meals, because the goofball has never really shaken off the idea that he doesn’t contribute as much to the general workings of their family as everyone else does. Which is a fucking joke. They’d probably last all of two days without Michelangelo, and they’d be the most miserable two days known to man. 
So his big brothers make it a point to wrestle control of the kitchen from him every now and then. Meals aren’t as good when anyone else is doing the cooking, but it’s the principle of the thing. 
As Raph is beating a big mixing bowl of eggs together, he blurts, “If you got flung into another dimension, I’d drag your ass back home first thing. You’re not getting out of this shit that easy.”
“Language,” Leo says without looking up from the bell peppers on his cutting board. There’s a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. “And I know you would.”
There’s a thump from the general area of the den—presumably a turtle falling off the sofa—followed by the low tones of Donnie and Mikey arguing sleepily. Raph’s heart does this big warm stretch in his chest as they amble into the kitchen, something he would never in his life admit to out loud. 
Mikey’s mouth is open to protest this shameless coup of his kitchen. Raphael points the whisk at him warningly. 
“One word and I’m tossing onions in here,” he says. “A whole bunch of ‘em.”
It’s as much of a threat as it needs to be. Mikey’s beak wrinkles but he only circles around the table to start the coffee for Don. 
They return to the infirmary armed with plates and drinks. Little Blue is sitting on the edge of the cot, watching them with obvious wariness on his face. When this version of Mikey who isn’t his Mikey approaches him, Blue’s expression does something it hurts to look at. But he musters up a smile anyway and takes the plate and mug he’s offered. 
The plate goes to the side right away. The mug is turned around and around in his hands. It’s a start.
“Um, hi,” he says. His voice is a shock to the system. He sounds like a childhood memory. “I guess introductions would be kind of redundant, huh?” 
Donatello smiles. “That’s right. Do you already have experience with other dimensions?” 
The kid’s hands go white-knuckled around his drink. “Not till recently,” he says woodenly. “And not like this. Donnie loves to talk about the multiverse theory, though. I’m an expert by proxy.”
Raph recognizes it when someone is on the brink of a panic attack and keeping it at bay by the skin of their fucking teeth, and his family sees it, too. He can practically see Leo reshuffling the course of this gentle interrogation, bypassing the obvious next question of “what the hell happened” for something a little safer instead. 
“You were pretty banged up when we found you,” is what he lands on. “Do you feel alright?” 
Leo’s tiny counterpart doesn’t seem to know what to make of him, equal parts awed and troubled. He glances over at Raph quickly, something of a knee-jerk reaction, and his face creases a little when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. His eyes fly to Donnie next, where they only linger for a second before falling to his lap. 
Raph can’t imagine how alone he must feel.
“Think so,” the kid says by way of answer. “I mean, my entire body feels like one big bruise, but I didn’t die. So I’ll take it as a win.” He blinks. “Unless I did die and this is a really weird afterlife. Or my brain is in that pre-death electrical storm and all my cells are depolarizing en masse and this is what it cooked up for me to go out with.” 
Okay, the kid is beginning to sound more like a Donatello than a Leonardo now, but the way his voice is getting tighter and faster is all Mikey when he freaks himself out.
“Hey, hey,” Raph says as he stands, shoving his plate towards Leo blindly and lifting his empty hands. It doubles as a ‘slow down’ gesture, and also as a means to grab Blue if he passes out. “Cool it, kiddo. We’re not a—a brain tsunami or whatever the hell you just said.” 
“That’s probably what a brain tsunami would say,” Blue says faintly. 
Raph takes those few steps to the kid’s side, coming to stand between him and Splinter. He reaches out to tap the bottom of the mug Blue’s strangling. 
“Drink,” he orders. “You’re safe here. If you need someplace to panic, or scream, or throw things, I’ll show you my wreck room. But you’re not allowed to see it at all if you pass out again.”
The kid obediently lifts the mug to his mouth, mumbling a petulant, “Okay, mom.” 
It’s the exact same tone of voice that Raph, Mikey, Donnie and even Casey have used to say those exact same words to Leo. Raph’s shock must show on his face, because Splinter lets out a quiet huff of laughter. Leo’s laugh, somewhere behind them, is louder. 
The miserable expression on Blue’s face clears after the first sip. Leo’s favorite drink when they were little, before he started to abandon childish things and mold himself into the shape of a leader, was strawberry milk. From the way Blue lifts wide gold eyes towards Mikey and holds the mug closer to his center, it’s his favorite, too. And it’s a piece of home he wasn’t expecting to find in this weird place. 
Mikey winks at him and a line of tension in Blue’s shoulders fades away. For the second time since waking up, Blue smiles back. It comes a little easier to him this time. 
Raph isn’t surprised. A Mikey makes everything better. 
“While I can understand why a wave of short-circuiting neurons in your brain might seem like the most logical explanation for this,” Donatello says, which makes goddamn one of them, “I can promise you that this is real. You fell through a portal in Brooklyn.” 
“A portal?” Blue asks. “A yellow one?” 
“Yeah! You remember?” Mikey says brightly. 
“I remember the light,” he replies slowly. He sets his cup down, and his hand drifts over to the crumpled-up photo sitting on the cot beside him. He doesn’t lift it or look at it, he just sets his hand on it, like he’s taking strength from its existence. “It was so dark and cold, and then the sun came out. I think I reached for it. I don’t know how I ended up here.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Leo says firmly. “And those chains, too.”
“Chains?” the kid asks. 
“The ones on your arm,” Donnie says. “You don’t feel them?” 
Little Blue looks down at both his casted and his whole arm, frowning. He lifts the whole one closer, turning it, and Raph catches the faint glimmer of those stubborn chains before they explode into burning gold. Blue yelps in surprise, and Raph’s brothers fly to their feet. 
“Did that hurt?” Mikey says all frantic, flapping his hands. 
It’s a fair question. Little Blue’s eyes are still wide and stunned, but now they’re filling rapidly with tears. He touches the chain the same way Leo had, like he’s testing something. It’s on the tip of Raph’s tongue to warn him not to, but it turns out not to be necessary. 
That aggressive show the lights put on for Raph and his siblings is nonexistent. Those purple sparks circle Blue’s fingers harmlessly. The red glow is a steady, unfaltering warmth. The chains themselves cinch tighter, resolute and unbreakable. 
Donnie’s mind is racing behind his brown eyes. He’s putting together what Raph’s heart had already figured out back on that rooftop. 
Wherever one of them goes, they all go. It didn’t make sense to find any version of Leonardo by himself, because his brothers would never have let him go without a fight. The place he belongs to would fight tooth and nail to keep him. 
Sure enough, Little Blue hugs his arm against his plastron and whispers, “Thanks for holding onto me.”
Then he’s in motion. He knocks back the rest of his strawberry milk like he’s a character in a Western film throwing back a shot of rye, crams the photo into the pouch at his waist, and hops off the cot. He staggers immediately, catching himself on the arm of Splinter’s chair. The whole thing is not giving Raph a whole lot of confidence in whatever this kid is planning, but he gets the feeling that trying to stop him now would be like trying to stop a trainwreck with his bare hands.  
Blue points at the butter knife on Leo’s plate, there because he eats his omelets like an old man. 
“Can I borrow that?” 
“Uh, sure,” Leo says, standing up and passing it over. 
“Thanks,” his young counterpart says with a winning smile, just seconds before it lights up in his hands and changes shape. When the bright blue glare fades, there’s a katana in the kid’s hand where a butter knife used to be. 
“What the fuck?” Raph and Mikey shout at the same time, though Mikey’s is more of a delighted shriek. 
Blue is blinking rapidly, like he’s trying to clear his gaze. He’s swaying where he stands, and Splinter’s brow is folded in concern, but before anyone can stop him, he lifts his shiny new sword in front of him and slashes down through empty air. 
Right away, a small cyan portal opens in front of him. It’s charged and electrified, a playful spinning thing. Raph’s heart is racing, and he puts out a hand to keep Mikey firmly behind him. Similarly, Leo has a solid grip on the leather strap across Don’s plastron, because their little brothers are both the same type of idiot in opposite directions when it comes to sparkly unexplainable things. 
Little Blue, for his part, looks disappointed in his portal and in himself, and it bleeds quickly into frustration. “Come on,” he says, shaking the sword in his hand. He forces the portal open a little wider, gaining a few inches in diameter. It’s still not big enough to be anything like a door, or even a window. 
“Your qi is exhausted,” Splinter says gently. “It will take days yet to build it up into even half of what it should be.”
“I don’t want to wait days,” Blue grits out, hand white-knuckled around the hilt. “I want to go home.”
The chains on his arm begin to unravel, elongating impossibly, becoming bigger and denser. Now they more closely resemble the heavy-duty chains Don uses in the garage to lift engines above his head. Two loops remain around his wrist, and the rest of it goes flying into that portal. 
For a moment, nothing happens.
And then, to put it in scientific terms, the portal fucking explodes. 
What started as the size of a dinner plate is now easily big enough for the Battle Shell to barrel through with plenty of clearance on all sides. It stands almost as tall as the ceiling and just as wide. And it barely has a chance to exist in this state for more than a second before multiple bodies come hurtling through from the other side at break-neck speed. 
“LEO!” three young voices scream, and Little Blue drops his sword to meet the chaos with open arms. 
“Took you long enough,” he says warmly. 
113 notes · View notes
iztarshi · 3 months
Text
Prompt: Killing in self-defense
Fandom: tmnt 1987
Notes: Gun violence. Death, although not character death. Serious injury to a turtle.
-
“The state of the victims makes it look like the work of the Globfather, or another member of his species,” says Leonardo. “And it’s happened to six people so far, which means we can’t afford to wait until nightfall.”
“Uh, fearless leader, you got any plans that don’t get us killed before we even find the Globfather?” Raphael asks.
Leonardo thinks of the half-dead amoeboid husks and glares at him. “Raphael, this is serious.”
Raphael glares back. “You think I’m not?”
“Raphael does have a point,” Donatello adds. “The Globfather’s actions have stirred up the fear of aliens caused by Dregg’s reveal as a criminal to the point it’s spilled over onto mutants again. Something like this will have people ready to riot against anything that isn’t human.”
It’s true. Anti-mutant sentiment fell after Dregg was first revealed, after all he was the one who had been stirring it up. But it never went away, the things people had started to think had stayed at the bottom of their hearts, and now instead of choosing an alien over a mutant they’re ready to destroy aliens and mutants together. “It’s not all of them,” Leonardo says. “Most humans are just trying to get by. The fact that some of them hate us doesn’t mean we can let innocent ones fall to a monster like the Globfather.
Raphael looks away and Leonardo takes that as a win for now.
“We will need disguises, though,” Leonardo continues. “Proper ones, not just ones that work from a distance. Michelangelo, do you know where those halloween masks are? At least then we won’t look like turtles.
“No, we’ll just look like we already got got by an amoeba monster,” Raphael mutters.
Michelangelo pushes past him roughly on the way to the disguise room, “Will you stop complainin’? If we listened to you we’d never do anything for anyone.”
“Why not? No one does anything for us,” Raphael calls after him.
“Dude, you know that’s not true,” Michelangelo turns around, beak to beak with Raphael. “April, Casey, Carter…”
Leonardo hastily gets between them and pushes them both back with a hand on their plastron. “Guys, stop fighting. Michelangelo, just get the masks. Raphael, do you want to stay behind?”
For a moment Leonardo thinks Raphael’s going to say “yes”. He wonders whether it would be a relief if he did. Then Raphael shakes his head. “Might as well go down with the ship,” he says.
“That would be Leonardo. He’s the captain,” Donatello says.
“Come on. Time to get ready,” Leonardo tells them.
None of them really like clothes, although Raphael sometimes enjoys the way they look when he’s in the mood to enjoy anything. Clothes are often scratchy, never tailored for turtles, and they tend to pull over the shell. It’s why they usually throw them off as soon as a fight breaks out, there’s not much point in maintaining a disguise but getting stabbed because you weren’t moving fluidly. The halloween masks are worse, they push the beak inwards and give a turtle a headache after a while.
“Everyone stay in disguise,” Donatello says. “Unless you really have to take something off. Raphael’s right, we’re in danger from everyone up there.”
“We all know that,” Leonardo says, because that’s not what he was arguing with Raphael about. The point isn’t that humanity won’t hurt them, the point is that they have to save people anyway. “Turtles, move out.”
They don’t take the turtle van or the blimp. Donatello is a turtle who is good at many, many things and subtlety is not one of them.
They take the rooftops, despite their disguises it’s still quicker than the streets for now and gives them more of an overview of the city. Raphael grumbles about having disguises on for no reason but when it’s only something like this it’s easy to tune him out.
An ambulance shoots down the steet beneath them, sirens blaring, two police cars following in its wake. It might be nothing, or, not nothing, but not what they’re here for. Still, Leonardo has a feeling.
“Follow that ambulance!” he calls, taking off in pursuit.
The thing being taken into the ambulance looks more like their halloween masks do when empty than like a human being. It’s what they’re looking for and it’s sickening.
“Still want to sit this one out and let humans end up like that, Raphael?” Leonardo asks.
“I nearly ended up like that protecting them and I don’t want to do that again either,” Raphael mutters, but he won’t look at Leonardo.
Leonardo sighs. Raphael’s reluctance never really lasts past seeing someone in danger, but Leonardo’s getting sick of his perpetual bad mood. Especially when it can spread to Donatello who, while less cynical in general, is much more likely to stick with a conclusion he reaches. Those two have split the team before, Leonardo doesn’t want it to happen again.
Right now, though, Donatello is hanging from a windowsill and waving some strange piece of equipment over the scene below. His tongue pokes between the lips of his halloween mask and then he suddenly flips back up to them.
“I’ve got it,” he says. “Now I’ve tuned it, this should track either further victims or the orignal amoeboid. It doesn’t have much range from down here, though, it’s being blocked by the houses.”
“So we’re gonna need the blimp after all?” asks Michelangelo.
“That’s not exactly keeping a low profile,” Raphael says.
“It should be fine,” Donatello says, eyes still on his device. “The government understands we were on their side now, so we aren’t in danger from the army. Civilians aren’t going to be able to shoot down a blimp.”
“There might be some misunderstandings, but no one’s gearing up to shoot us down,” Leonardo says, hastily. Maybe when Dregg’s propoganda was at its worst, yes, but right now they’re just unpopular. Their blimp showing in the sky is likely to cause anxiety and bad feelings among humans, not get them shot down.
“Oh, aren’t they?” Raphael mutters.
“No, dude, they’re not,” Michelangelo retorts. “Yeah, people don’t like us a whole lot right now, but that’s not new. Being mean doesn’t mean they want to hurt us.”
“Yeah? Have you seen the stuff they’re saying on TV now that April doesn’t feel like defending us?”
“Don’t say it like that! April’s not got a job anymore, she can’t just say what she likes. The dudes at the top won’t run it.”
“So she’s avoiding us completely now that stories about us won’t run unless she gets nasty. Guess we’re lucky she hasn’t chosen getting nasty yet.”
“We know the villain is in this area,” Leonardo says loudly, cutting the two of them off. “Donatello’s device might give us an important lead, but we should also search this area. Two of us need to go back for the blimp while the other two go down to street level and start searching.” The question is, how to divide the team for this one? Donatello obviously needs to go back for the blimp. Sending Raphael with him when he’s this mood is out of the question, Donatello’s too likely to agree with him. Sending Michelangelo would be fine, but that would leave Leonardo to stay with Raphael and it’s not fair but he really, really doesn’t want to. As long as it’s not Raphael with Donatello any split is as good as any other, he tells himself, and Leonardo’s the most tactically minded of them so it might be useful for him to see things from above. “Michelangelo, Raphael, you stay here. Take a look around but be careful. If you see any sign of the Globfather, call us.”
Walking through a crowd in disguise is lonely. It’s not the first time Michelangelo has felt that; he likes people and, just ‘cause he’s green and has a shell, a lot of the time people don’t like him. It feels worse when it could be violence, not just rejection, but he really doesn’t think it would be violence. Or maybe he doesn’t want to think it would be violence.
Raphael’s presence only makes him feel lonelier. Raphael takes everything so seriously now and that’s meant to be a good thing, but it just means he’s wound so tight he’s constantly snapping. Michelangelo misses the times when they were the ones who could go with the flow.
Michelangelo looks around and Raphael is gone. For a moment he can’t tell which person in the crowd might be him, then he sees a familiar trench coat and jogs to catch up.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asks.
Raphael shrugs. “You’re the one who was staring into space. We’ll go faster if we split up, anyway.”
“Go where faster? We’re just here in case something happens.” It’s not like poking around at street level is gonna find anything. If the glob dude’s gone, he’s gone, if he comes back they’ll see him.
“So much for getting this over with,” Raphael mutters.
“It’ll be over when the dudes get back, no matter what we did while they were gone. Relax a bit, wouldja?”
“In this city?”
“You use’ta know how to relax.” Michelangelo tugs on Raphael’s arm, trying to pull him over to a junk shop window. Something fun to look at. “I know it feels gnarly right now, but it’s not so different from when we first came above ground…”
“…and an old lady immediately tried to shoot us. Yes, I’m seeing the resemblance.”
“Yeah, some people were rough, and it mondo sucked how willing they were to believe bad stuff about us. But a lotta people just, y’know, even if they didn’t love us, they had better things to do than hate us. Our disguises were, like, sunglasses and they let us be.”
“And now we don’t dare show a hint of green.”
“Ninety percent of ‘em still wouldn’t care,” Michelangelo insists. “We’re being careful, but they’re still just guys doing their stuff. It’s not like the world’s out to get you.
“Us, Michelangelo. The world’s out to get us,” Raphael sing-songs.
“It’s not!” Michelangelo snaps, his voice pitching louder than he means it to.
“Uh-uh. Don’t draw attention. We’re being careful, remember?”
“Forget it, dude.” This time it’s Michelangelo who stomps off and Raphael makes no attempt to follow.
Michelangelo stops to look in a shop window, not even registering what it’s selling this time. All he’s seeing is his own reflection, rounded and slightly hunched in a trenchcoat, a rubbery face with too round, staring eyes. How the heck do these masks make them less scary? The first time he saw one he jumped into Leonardo’s arms and familiarity has not improved them. His reflection is a pretty sad imitation of a human. People seeing this have gotta know something’s up. Maybe even that they’re looking at a mutant and, just like before, they don’t care all that much as long as a turtle doesn’t try to talk to them.
Michelangelo rubs his beak through the rubber and then drops his hand to toy with the edge of the mask at his collar-bone. With sudden decision he pulls the mask off and shoves it in his pocket, putting his hat back on afterwards. Raphael would have a fit but Michelangelo has had it up to here with Raphael’s paranoia.
The giddy, guilty, triumphant feeling of doing something he probably shouldn’t lasts even when a few people do catch sight of him and quickly put their heads down and hurry away. Yeah, people are feeling a bit paranoid of them right now, but they’re feeling a bit paranoid of people so that’s fair. Both sides have to get used to each other again, that’s all. Most people don’t want to hurt anyone.
A stone hits Michelangelo’s shoulder and he retracts his head halfway into his shell while turning around. It’s a big guy standing there, the kind who can probably get somewhere by getting aggressive when he’s scared. Michelangelo holds out his hands placatingly.
“It’s okay, dude, I’m just going.”
“Yeah?” The guy says, swaggering closer. “You the one that hurt that poor guy? On your way to do that to someone else?”
“No way!” Michelangelo says. People are pressing in, now that someone else is in front of them. Most people don’t want to go out of their way to hurt mutants, but aggression spreads fast. They’ve got his shell up against the wall as they form a loose half-circle around him. “Come on, I’m a teenage mutant ninja turtle. You know us.”
“No one really knows mutants.” The rumble of agreement from the crowd feels like approaching thunder.
Michelangelo raises his hands higher, showing he’s unarmed to the people at the back of the gathering crowd. He can’t leave without pushing them aside and if he hurts anyone the thick, ozone feel in the air will come together like a bolt of lightning.
Another stone hits Michelangelo’s shell.
<hr>
Raphael pays no attention to the gathering crowd at first. If they’d found whatever was turning people into skin puddles they’d be running screaming, so it’s probably just a street performer or a fight or something else irrelevent. Then he hears Michelangelo’s voice, sees the green hands raised at the centre. Sees the stones.
Raphael tears his disguise off and throws himself through the crowd, sending humans tumbling in his wake. Sticks and handbags fall on his shell but the trick to keeping his feet under him is moving fast, falling forward into the next step. He skids to a stop with one hand thrown up to avoid hitting the wall, then twists around to face the crowd. He wraps one hand around Michelangelo’s wrist, the other already grabbing a sai from his belt. Michelangelo’s hand wraps around his wrist in turn, linking them together.
He hardly needs to pull them into motion, Michelangelo is already following, running for the path Raphael cut through the crowd. They nearly stumble over a young woman he knocked down before and another, taller and darker, throws herself at him from the side. Only Michelangelo’s grip keeps him upright. She pushes him again, standing between him and her friend with snarling defensive aggression that he matches, showing his teeth and shoving his sai in her face.
Michelangelo jerks him back. “We’re not gonna hurt your friend,” he says, fast and urgent, already trying to push through the crowd a different way. “We’re not gonna hurt any of you! Just let us leave!”
The crowd pushes in around them, from all sides now that there’s not even a wall at their back. How are there so many humans? Raphael can’t get the momentum to bowl through them the way he did before, especially with Michelangelo hesitating, not wanting to knock them over. When Raphael hits out it’s with his sai flipped, spikes lying over his wrist so it’s the hilt he’s lashing out with, but no one seems to care that he’s going easy on them. A middle-aged man with dark hair smacks a piece of drain pipe down over his wrist sending pain vibrating up it like the chime of a bell. Michelangelo kicks someone in the chest and pulls Raphael forward again.
The snap of a shot makes Raphael throw his head up, as if even the sound is painful, cold washing through him from his head to his toes.
“Dude, don’t shoot in a crowd!” Michelangelo yells.
“Y-yeah, it would be terrible if they hit someone who wasn’t us,” Raphael mutters. He’s scanning the crowd frantically, everything seeming to slow down so he can take it in. The old man being helped to his feet by two blond girls. The college kids trying to push their way out, because, yeah, someone shot a gun in a crowd. The guy in a neon safety vest passing out tools from his toolbox, including a really heavy looking spanner. The gleam of light on the muzzle of a gun in the hands of a sandy-haired guy in his thirties.
Raphael lets go of Michelangelo’s wrist, pulling free of Michelangelo’s own grip, and leaps. Landing, he wraps both hands around the gun and wrenches it upwards as it fires again. Humans leap in, trying to prise Raphael’s hands free even though this guy is the idiot who’s shooting. Michelangelo arrives next to him just as Raphael kicks the guy hard in the chest and pulls the gun against his plastron, shielding it from anyone who might try to take it away.
The gun feels solid in his hand. Powerful.
Michelangelo’s hand closes around the back of Raphael’s shell, like there’s somewhere he could drag him.
Raphael points the gun at the crowd. “Move aside.” There’s no need to make an effort to sound hoarse and menacing, his voice comes out as a croak.
No one listens. Instead they close in and try to get the gun away from him again. Do they think they’re heroes, here? Are they trying to die? Or do they know that he’s not… that he won’t… that he doesn’t want to…
He just wants to get out of here alive.
“Why won’t they move?” he whispers.
“They’re scared,” Michelangelo answers, putting himself shell to shell with Raphael so they don’t have anyone behind them. “They’re trying to protect each -”
“They’re not scared enough,” Raphael snaps as Michelangelo’s voice breaks off into a yelp.
The shot he fires is far above the heads of the crowd. He just wants to convince them he’s serious, get them to move. If he’s a monster to them they should stop provoking him!
There’s the answering crack of a rifle from the crowd.
There’s a stinging line on Raphael’s shoulder, a light pain almost like a papercut, and then it burns with a pain that spreads like fire. A space opens at his back as Michelangelo falls, the warmth and wetness of his own blood mingled with his brother’s runs down his arm. When he turns, Michelangelo is on the ground, lying on his plastron, his trenchcoat hiding everything but the tear in it where the bullet exited and a massive, spreading stain. The blood running down Michelangelo’s arm from under his trenchcoat has shards of shell in it, like a smashed egg.
Raphael drops to his knees, touching his hand to Michelangelo’s beak to feel the laboured puff of breath. There’s blood around his nostrils but he’s not dead. Not yet. Raphael lifts his hand to the bloodstain on Michelangelo’s back, fingers hovering before reluctantly dipping down to touch. Under the fabric he feels the sharp edges of broken shell and, worse, a gap, a hole where there should be solid carapace, a void that feels like it could swallow him whole.
A stone hits the back of his head and he looks up, for the first time aware that the crowd is still there, that the world hasn’t stopped. They’re pleased, excited, to see a turtle down. Pressing in like feral dogs around a cat. How could they do this to Michelangelo?
Raphael leans across Michelangelo’s body, tucking that wounded carapace under his own shell. One hand rests on the ground for support, the other lifts the rifle still clutched in it and aims it at the crowd.
“You’re not going to get a chance to finish him off,” Raphael tells them and when the next stone comes anyway he squeezes the trigger.
Someone shoots at him, the bullet pinging against the ground by his foot, so he pulls the trigger a second time. A third. Someone goes down in a spray of blood, but he won’t let himself focus on them. They’re a puppet, a loose shape with long flailing limbs. There are no more bullets in the gun.
Raphael tucks his head into his shell, wraps his arms and legs around Michelangelo, and holds on.
<hr>
“It looks like our villain came back,” Leonardo says grimly.
Donatello smacks the sensor in his hand, ignoring the wail of sirens below him. “He can’t have, I’m not getting any kind of reading.”
“Someone’s dead,” Leonardo tells him.
Donatello leans over the edge of the blimp platform. There’s a body, doll-like from this far away, being dragged towards an ambulance that’s just parked. Beside it is a seething crowd, both angry and panicking.
“Well, that’s not good,” Donatello says. “They can’t take on the Globfather themselves.”
“Then we’d better help!” Leonardo steers the blimp lower, planning to get as close as he can before detaching the glider.
Donatello stares downward, trying to analyse the situation. The glimpse of green at the centre of the crowd suggests it is an alien lifeform they’ve caught, but whatever it is it seems oddly helpless against a pummelling. An amoeboid who spreads by touch ought to be winning. Whatever this is, it’s smaller. More solid. A familiar shade of green.
“Leonardo. It’s them. Our turtles.” The words rip out of him.
“It can’t be.”
“It is, it…” Donatello takes a deep breath. “Don’t detach the glider, if we lose the blimp we’ll just be in the same situation. Drop a ladder, I’ll grab them and we can get out of here.”
The shadow of the blimp scatters the ragged edges of the crowd. People throw their hands over their heads and run for shelter like they expect the turtles to drop bombs. Others yell insults, or become more frenzied in their attack on Raphael and Michelangelo, like the humans are trying to finish them off before Donatello can reach them.
As soon as the ladder is dropped Donatello slides down it, bo already out, hitting the humans like the bomb they were afraid of. If Leonardo was here he would be trying to push them back without hurting them. Donatello is mostly not aiming for the heads.
“Turtle Power!” he yells, smacking a drainpipe out of a teenager’s hand.
Raphael looks up. His face is bloody and tear-stained but his hollow eyes spark with something like life at the sight of Donatello. As soon as Donatello drives people back a little way he’s scrambling to his feet dragging Michelangelo across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry even as Michelangelo’s blood runs down them both.
“What happened?” Donatello demands. “How did you even get into this kind of mess? Where’s your disguise? Where’s Michelangelo’s mask?”
There’s no answer, all of Raphael’s energy is going into climbing the ladder with Michelangelo still slung across his shoulder. As soon as he’s far enough up Donatello grabs a rung himself and yells, “Leonardo, go!”
The blimp rises as Donatello kicks and pokes the grasping hands of the mob away.
It seems to take forever to climb the swaying ladder. Donatello has one hand on the ladder, one on the base of Raphael’s shell to push him upwards. For a moment as Raphael reaches the top the blimp starts drifting, and then Donatello finds Leonardo reaching down to drag him aboard a wing of the glider platform. He balances quickly as Leonardo takes control again and starts them moving for home.
On the opposite wing Raphael is laying Michelangelo down gently. “Donatello?” he calls pleadingly.
Donatello jumps across the middle of the glider to land next to the two injured turtles. When the glider starts to tilt in their direction Raphael hastily scrambles to the side Donatello just vacated.
Michelangelo is a mess. Bloody nose, bloody mouth, broken shell. Should Donatello try to take the trenchcoat off him? It’s probably holding pieces of his shell in place. It’s bad to let fabric get into wounds, but taking it off would make him bleed more and all Donatello’s really sure of is that the blood should stay inside Michelangelo. Donatello’s the turtle that fixes things, that’s his job, that’s what he’s for, but serious injuries are tended by Splinter while the rest of them pace anxiously around the lair.
“We need to get him home,” Donatello says. Then, “Leonardo, hand me our trenchcoats.”
Leonardo does as he’s asked and says, “The blimp’s not fast, but I’m heading home as directly as I can. When we’re close enough, can we risk using the glider?”
“I don’t think it could hurt,” Donatello answers. He folds one trenchcoat into a wad and pushes it under Michelangelo’s plastron. Then he folds the other over the carapace and tries to press hard enough to stop the bleeding but not hard enough to make those bits of shell push inwards. He can feel them grating against each other. Could they pierce a lung? Should he have opened the trenchcoat and pulled them away?
“What happened?” Leonardo asks. “How did Michelangelo get injured?”
“They shot him.” Raphael’s voice is hollow. When Donatello looks over at him he’s curled up, beak pressed against his knees, one arm over his eyes and one hand loosely gripping the glider.
Leonardo takes a deep breath. “Did you shoot them?”
There’s a long silence and then Raphael says, “….did you see?”
“We saw that someone was dead,” Leonardo answers.
“Can you blame him?” asks Donatello. “After what they did to Michelangelo?”
“We can’t shoot people,” Leonardo snaps.
“Not even to protect each other?” says Donatello.
“I didn’t,” Raphael says softly. “I wanted to protect him but… nothing I did helped at all.”
Silence falls over them. Donatello holds his pad of material in place and tries not to cry.
“Hold on, I’m detaching the glider,” Leonardo says. “Raphael. I can’t detach until you hold something properly.”
The glider falls away with a clunk and then a swoop, set free from the slow balloon. Donatello might not be great at first aid, but at least his invention is getting them home fast. He pulls Michelangelo’s head onto his knees, holds his uninjured shoulder down, does everything he can to soften the inevitable jar of landing. He’s still rewarded with blood bubbling from Michelangelo’s nose.
“I’ve got us as close as I can,” Leonardo says.
Donatello nods. “Get the manhole cover up and help me lift him. Don’t let him touch the water in there.” The runoff from New York streets could contain any number of pathogens.
Leonardo puts Michelangelo in a fireman’s carry again to get him down the ladder. It’s not the best idea, but it’s better than any other idea they have.
Donatello looks back and Raphael hasn’t moved from where he sits on the glider.
“Raphael, get over here,” he says.
Raphael shakes his head. “I’m not coming.”
“What do you mean you’re not coming?”
“Master Splinter isn’t going to want me in his house after this.” Raphael’s voice seems to be fading, getting quieter with every sentence.
“Don’t be stupid, you’re his student,” Donatello says. Never mind that they officially graduated from that, they’ll always be Splinter’s students.
“So was Shredder,” Raphael whispers.
“Donatello! I need you!” Leoanardo yells.
“You should go. It’s going to take two of you to carry Michelangelo home and you need to be quick,” Raphael says, voice almost lost beneath Leonardo shouting again.
Michelangelo might be dying down there, they need to get him home safely. Donatello has no choice but to go.
“Just…” he falters, about to ask whether Raphael has his turtle comm, tell him to keep it on so Donatello can call him later, and then fearing that if he mentions it Raphael will immediately discard it. “Just be safe.”
He turns his back on Raphael and jumps down the manhole cover, barely touching the ladder as he slides to the bottom. “I’m here,” he says, taking Michelangelo’s feet. “Let’s go.”
If Raphael keeps his turtle comm then Donatello can track him. If Michelangelo doesn’t bleed out before they get him home then Splinter will heal him. It’s not too late to fix this.
It can’t possibly be too late.
9 notes · View notes
misteria247 · 1 year
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I'm gonna cry omfg
The boys went to watch a movie for a little breaky break cuz they deserve it and they loved it and Raph's like what if we had a movie about us? And Donnie goes-
"Hmm Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. That has a nice ring to it-"
Like boys you have no idea just how big y'all are gonna get later in time.
70 notes · View notes
imagionationstation · 11 months
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Safe - TMNT Drabblish
"Come on, dude! Get your head on the game!"
Once again, the orange-banded warrior darted past, taking out the robotic ninja in front of him before disappearing back into the throes of battle. 
He continued to clutch the wooden pole as he waited for something about this situation to make sense, but the longer he remained motionless, the more he realized that his current predicament had no desire to allow him the information that he sought.
His eyes were drawn to the cracks in the roof underneath him. As if checking to cross a street, he peered left and right. Deeming his life safe from imminent danger, he leaned over, tracing his fingers over the long zig-zag crack in the concrete.
As if this movement had given them permission too, the cracks began to spread around him at a rapid pace. They corrupted the ground as he scrambled upright again, unknowingly taking a step onto a forming crack under his heel.
The concrete beneath his feet gave away. The pole left his hands as he scrambled away from the crumbling roof. He slipped, failing to grapple hold of anything, and fell.
He reflexively popped into his shell, scaring himself further when his body suddenly found itself smushed and surrounded by black.
There was a shout, something loud and echoing that accurately summed up the terror flooding his being. He was tackled, barely able to admit a shout of his own as he was forced against something firm, protective arms shielding him.
Then they were hitting the ground, bouncing to the side and rolling awkwardly as a loud crash exploded around them. They finally came to a stop, and for a time neither of them moved. Then his shell was released and he fell to the ground. He awkwardly squirmed out from his own portable prison, panting as he rose onto shaky limbs. He blinked dumbly, brain ringing slightly.
Oh. A turtle comrade.
…Oh. They were turtles.
Round eyes looked to the rubble that would have crushed him had he not been knocked off course, then to his savior.
The red-banded turtle scowled at the eye contact, a frantic gleam in his fiery gaze.
"What was that!?" 
The turtle was mad, really mad, and he felt himself cringe anxiously at the tone, unable to turn away from the glare. Something deep in his mind understood not to be scared, because there was fear and concern buried beneath the murderous flame.
The message was not shared to his body. His heart pounded, his eyes burned, and he couldn't get the knot in his chest to untie. All understanding of English vocabulary was left under the rubble that almost took his life. 
Apparently not expecting an answer, the turtle pulled himself to his feet and then faced the rubble. He stepped forward with a tense posture, ready for battle, scanning around the decrepit area with a grimance. "This whole place is coming down."
The turtle kicked a snapped board and then turned to the opening above, stating, "We need to get back up there. Come on, Don. Get off your sorry shell and-"
Something changed in the red-banded turtle's expression when he faced him, worry enveloping and mingling with the fire in his gaze. The turtle stepped closer, and he flinched. "What? What's wrong?"
The uncomprehending gaze just blinked as the red-banded turtle cautiously knelt across from him, brows furrowed as he looked him over. "...Donnie?"
Something clicked in his mind then, like a twig in a cog snapping and allowing the gears to spin, some deep understanding from the depths of his being flaring to life as he stared at the turtle across from him. 
Angry. 
Gruff. 
Sarcastic.
Physical. 
Dangerous. 
Protective. 
Caring. 
Safe. 
He threw himself against the turtle before him, desperately needing the new sense of security that came with his presence. He didn’t quite understand who he was, but craved the sense of security and trust. Something convincing said that this turtle- even as angry and kinda scary as he seemed- was exactly what he needed with the chaos surrounding him, and so he clung to him even as the turtle went rigid. 
"Woah, hey, Donnie, what's-"
The red-banded turtle's flustered statement was cut off. A hand touched the top of his skull and he sucked in a breathe at the spike of pain that tried to take a stab at his brain. The touch receded and the shielding arms from before encircled him once more. He relaxed some; his heart finally found its normal beats.
"Well, sewer apples, Don. When did that happen?"
Hmm? When did his skull start hurting? That would be right around the time he woke up to find himself surrounded by deadly ninjas and weapon-carrying mutant turtles. Which, technically, he seemed to be one of.
A contemplation for another day. 
But that word that he kept saying, Donnie, it clearly meant something. Didn't the blue-masked turtle say that to him? Or more accurately, said it at him. Like it was supposed to mean something. 
Like... Like it was a title. 
A name. 
Sweet! He had a name! 
The red-banded turtle pulled away and he met the worried gaze again, tilting his head slightly when he realized they seemed to be gauging his expression, almost like his savior was searching for something. "Don? Who am I?"
He frowned in thought. He probably should know who this turtle was, but then again, did he even know who he was? He supposed he was Donnie, a walking turtle with a missing pole who just fell through a collapsing roof, and he had humanoid turtle companions. 
Not that this made much sense, or actually answered his query.
"Come on!" The angered turtle roughly shook him, and his attention snapped back to him in surprise. "Talk to me, Don! Of all the times I can't get you to shut up, why are you quiet now!?"
Don. This word seemed to be said at him too. Was he mistaken? Was Donnie not his name then? Or perhaps he had more than one first name. How did someone with more than one name even keep them all straight? 
Was he or was he not Donnie? 
Now the turtle looked really worried, so he reached out to place a hand on his plastron, which in turn made the turtle freeze. He smiled nervously, "Safe. You're... Safe."
The turtle stared at him for a moment before releasing his shoulders and sitting back, groaning into his hands. "Oh, crud..." 
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Loyalty And Fraternity
TMNT (2012) Synopsis: Following the aftermath of Splinter's death, the turtles attempt to clean up random mutagen spills in order to both protect the city, and keep their minds away from their grief. However, when one of them is kidnapped by the foot clan and held captive by a brutish Shredder, the others must overcome their situation and themselves in order to save their brother before it's too late.  Warnings: major character injury, violence, kidnapping, blood, puking, torture, manipulation, gore, bugs, other horrific things
Part One
Everyone operates under their own version of autopilot. Little words are spoken as blurs move through the streets of New York City, concealed within the darkness of the cloudy night and the shadows the tall buildings cast. 
Admittedly, everything seemed a lot darker since Splinter’s untimely departure. 
Normally, the silence would at least be broken up with a few, half-hearted jokes thrown out regarding the gloomy scenery or nature of the mission, - said mission being the harvesting of discarded mutagen that’s led to an uproar in cryptid-like, somewhat sentient, and overly hostile mutants to run rampant - but that’s currently absent as well. 
The only thing present is the whirring of the air, and the heavy thumping of weighted footsteps landing on rooftop after rooftop, and the quiet blades of Casey’s skates. 
Though all of them claim to be focused and well enough to operate under the stress of this mission, all of them can tell that there’s a waft of uncertainty beneath each turtle’s surface. A certain, hesitant aura where confidence once resided. 
If the teacher could be killed, what was to be said about the students?
“Guys, there’s a can down there,” Leonardo states, coming to a sudden halt on the top of an apartment suite. His gaze is fixed downwards, towards a curb. Laying in the crevice near a drain is a cracked, spilling can of mutagen. 
“There’s been so many just… discarded,” April responds, face flushed from the running. Strands of hair are stuck to her face due to the sweat, but she looks concerned as she’s braced on the edge of the roof. “This can’t be an accident, can it?” 
Usually, the Krang were a lot more precise when it came to the transportation of mutagen, but since Shredder, and more specifically Baxter have gotten their hands on it, there seemed to suddenly be a surplus amount present within the city. It not only presented itself as a danger to the crime-fighting group, but also to the normal citizens who let curiosity get the better of them, or who just happened to end up slipping and colliding with the substance. 
Feeling sick to her stomach, seeing the semi-liquid spread near the drain reminds her of all of the mutants they’d come across this past month. And how many they’d failed to save. 
“If it gets into the water at all, we’ll have a whole slew of sewer mutants running around,” Donnatello states, glancing at April. He debates putting a comforting hand on her back, but avoids doing so. He feels equally as uneasy about the situation.
Even when diluted, mutagen was nothing to be messed with.
“Besides us, you mean,” Raphael responds, stiff as he hunches over the side of the building. His words, meant to be joking, just serve as a bitter reminder that the same stuff that made them had led to the unfortunate end or suffering of others. It makes them all wince. 
Quickly looking back and forth for people, Leo suddenly braces himself on the edge of the building. “Everybody got your gear?” he asks, referring specifically to extra thick gloves and dense containers Donnie had both gathered and fabricated. It was to prevent the mutagen from touching any parts of their bodies, as well as to successfully contain it. 
With no proper way to wash it up, and not wanting to leave it out for any random being to stumble across, gathering it up was the only way to safely ensure it was dealt with. 
A chorus of affirmation rings out from the other turtles, though Michelangelo tugs on his gloves, uncomfortable. “These are so awkward to wear!” he protests, though it sounds more like dramatic whining. “You couldn’t have lined them with something softer?” He pouts at Donnie, who doesn’t even return his complaining with so much as a scowl. Instead, Mikey’s met with a sigh, and a stern “focus,” before Leo’s speaking again. 
“Casey, April, are you two still okay with being lookouts?” 
It’s more rhetorical than anything; the two were sure that even if they expressed their distaste at being left behind, it’d be ignored, so both of them nod and hurry to opposite sides of the building, each looking over their own banister, making sure no krang, Foot Clan, or any stray mutant sneaks up on them. 
Both addressed parties mutter their own half-hearted words of agreement, before shooting tired glances towards each other, aware of the fact they’ll be spending a lot of boring time together. 
Things have been… surprisingly dead. Sure, there were crowds of people in the day, but at night it was uncharacteristically empty. 
Aside from the occasional mutant caused by the recent mutagen spills, there were no signs of danger anywhere, which would normally be a good thing, but had only been causing the turtles, and by extension April and Casey, more anxiety. Their enemies' silence only meant they were planning something big, and big events were never good. 
It was surprising that Shredder hadn’t launched a large-scale attack immediately after Shredder’s death. 
After all, that was the smartest thing to do. With the turtles’ morale weakened, they’d definitely be off their game. They’d be mentally weak, and physically impaired because of it. 
Leo, who obviously knew that this strategy would be the most effective, was also the most worried as to why Shredder, who’d been smart and brutish enough to kill his father with little remorse, wouldn’t jump at this opportunity. But, he merely shakes his head, pushing his thoughts aside. That wasn’t important right now; what was important was they prevented anyone else from being hurt. 
Looking over at Raph, Leo nods, and then does the same towards Donnie and Mikey. They all nod back at him, and then they’re all leaping off the building in sync. 
All four of them land on the ground silently, before checking around to make sure there are no people nearby, and then rushing towards the mutagen. Before it can reach the sewer drain, Donnie carefully puts his gloved hand near the leaking mutagen, and then begins to push it back, causing it all to form into a larger puddle, as he moves it back towards the shattered glass.
His three brothers watch him intensely, all of them carefully eyeing his gloves. 
Just a drop of mutagen could be dangerous, as almost all of them had experience with. Mikey shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he recalls the horrid bumps that formed on his head as a result of dabbling with mutagen. 
Such a juvenile action seems so silly now. Stupid, even. He has to pinch himself to draw his attention back to the problem at hand. 
“Container?” Donnie prompts, and Leo crouches down next to him, setting the container on the ground and allowing Donnie to slowly scoop the mutagen into it. He scrapes as much as he can up, before Leo unsheathes his katana, using that to then scrape up any mutagen residue that remained on the ground. Donnie takes over holding the tub while Leo does such. Donnie’s contaminated gloves had been dropped into the container already; they were covered in mutagen anyway, and it was the safest place to store them. 
Mikey and Raph glance towards each other. Each of them feel equally useless, though neither of them express such. This was the normal routine.
Really, Raph was only here for horsepower. 
Casey and April’s eyes dart side to side, before they inevitably settle back on the four brothers. Despite the unsavory duty, they both knew how important spotting oncoming danger is. Especially after one loss. Neither of them were sure they could handle another. 
There’s a clatter nearby, and it echoes through the empty streets of New York. Immediately, everyone jumps up, knees bending as they all look around. 
Raph backs up so that his shell is pressed up against Mikey’s, each of them covering the others’ blind spot; Donnie and Leo are doing a similar thing, though they’re covering the sides. 
Clutching the tub of mutagen protectively, Donnie is the only one unarmed, and he’s fully aware of such. Fighting one handed was a skill they’d all learned, but holding extremely important chemicals that could cause extreme damage wasn’t something that should potentially be tossed around willy-nilly because Donnie wanted to spin a stick. 
A stick. That had already proved useless during one of the most important fights of his life; it would be just as useless while sticking up for those in the city. 
His mouth turns up in a scowl. 
There’s silence for a few moments, before a soft “meow” is heard, followed by a stray kitten jumping into view. Relaxing slightly, Mikey immediately whistles, calling the attention of the frail thing. Raph turns to meet his gaze, before lightly slapping his shoulder. 
“Leave the cat alone; we have what we came here for. We don’t have time for distractions,” he states, and Mikey frowns. 
He goes to argue, and potentially keep calling for the cat, only to spot a faint gleam from the dark alley the cat had bounded from. White amidst the black, as if the moon was reflecting from them. Mikey meets the eyes, and then squints, attempting to decipher whether what he was seeing were actually eyes or some other reflective object that required a closer look, but before he can come to a conclusion, he’s grabbed by the wrist. 
“Woah, hey!” he exclaims, yanking his hand away. Leo had been the one to grab him. “You were near the mutagen, dude! Back off!” He’s dramatic in his scolding, but Leo looks unamused. 
“You weren’t listening to us.” He nods towards the side of a large apartment complex, of which Donnie and Raph were already scaling. “We’re leaving.” 
Huffing, Michelangelo glances behind him once more, only to see the light in the alley has disappeared. A cold feeling suddenly runs through his body, and he shivers, shaking himself off afterwards. He had a weird feeling of premonition, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. 
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theelvishscribbler · 10 months
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Something I'm curious about with your sonic crossover with tmnt is the fact that unlike in regular tmnt you already got a bunch of animals walking around so the whole staying hidden so people don't freak out thing would be different can the boys actually just run onto a street without worry I'm so curious on how that changes things cause staying hidden is such a big thing in tmnt
So true about the staying hidden in the shadows being a big thing in TMNT. The mobian to human ratio is maybe... 50/1, so it's not rare to see mobians, but it's still Unusual.
The Turtles grew up on an isolated hidden island, raised to take over guardianship of a hidden power deep beneath the island. They grew up away from society with only each other to interact with; so, they still have the usual "beware of the outside world and remain a secret" upbringing.
The Walking City arrived on their island about 2.5 years before the plot of the story begins. With the city came Shredder seeking out that Important Power that the Turtles and Splinter are protecting. They managed to ground the progression of the city but ended up in a stalemate with no advancement on either side.
So basically, they do have to remain hidden in the shadows, but it is a lot less of a "we are mutants and can't be seen" thing and more of a "those in charge of the city are hunting us" kind of thing.
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twstgabrielle · 2 years
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Warning: This fic contains language, supposed major character death and injuries, inaccurate medical stuff as well as a lot of angst. Also there are some major spoilers for the 2012 Tmnt series. If any of this makes you uncomfortable I highly encourage y'all to check out my other works.
Winter.
It was a season full of wonder and magic. A time where people would gather around with one another and spend time with the ones they loved most in the world. Hiding away within their warm and cozy homes to sit around the fire and have a warm drink with one another, snuggled closely underneath blankets or sweaters and hoodies. Basking within one another's presence. Winter meant cold mornings full of sparkling snow and the air's harsh and biting atmosphere would play at those who were outside within it's elements. Winter was a season where the world would begin to shift into the magical pull of the holidays, where children and adults alike would have their spirits risen by the unexplainable enchantment of the season.
It was a season that the Hamato family had enjoyed quite a bit. Whenever winter would come to greet the busy and noisy streets of the lively City known as New York, the four sons of the family would eagerly sit beneath the drainage openings that lined the sidewalks and manholes, watching the flurry of snowflakes while bundled up tightly within their warm clothes and scarves while their cautious father would warmly watch the four children and their childish wonder filled looks as they enjoyed the season in the only way they could. From the moment they'd been able to walk and take in their surroundings, it'd become a tradition for the family of five. Master Splinter would keep an eye on the weather reports and the world above, awaiting for the first sign of the first snowfall of the season and once he was sure he'd gather his four small children and they'd watch the beautiful scene together, becoming swept within the magical and enchanting atmosphere.
It was one of Raphael's favorite things to do, though the red clad turtle would never admit such a sentimental thing out loud. But whenever winter would start to slowly creep up he'd find himself becoming excited to see that first snowfall of the season through those small little drainage holes that led to the world above them. To sit beside his brothers and watch the stunning sight sitting side by side with them, huddled together in a small little turtle pile with their father close by. As he grew older, he became a bit more embarrassed by these things such as touching and cuddling with his brothers, instead growing a bit defensive whenever it was brought up or when it damaged his pride. And for a good few years he'd remain like that, snapping slightly or being a smart aleck whenever he would become somewhat emotional vulnerable. His brothers of course were undeterred by his tough exterior and would always manage to rope him in with the tradition. And like many teenagers he'd grown to somewhat resent and take these moments for granted, never truly appreciating just how precious they were.
And now Raphael was paying the price. It was cold in the bathroom, the winter's harsh and chilling air biting into his dark scaly skin and causing him to shiver despite the blankets that were wrapped around his frame. Bathrooms weren't exactly the warmest place to be camping out in, especially in the harsh season of winter and within an extremely old farmhouse that was still within the process of being fixed up to be livable in. In fact the smartest thing that the fifteen year old could possibly do would be to head to his bedroom and crawl beneath the blankets that would undoubtedly protect him from the chilling he was experiencing. However this choice never once crossed his mind, never once did it ever make itself known to him. No instead he stayed put within the bathroom, sitting on the old chair that sat beside the bathtub next to him, refusing to leave the room despite how cold he was. Raphael's bright green eyes slowly turned their attention to the bathtub, taking in the figure that laid within its porcelain walls. Not thinking about he the red clad turtle reached over, sticking the tips of his fingers into the water, relieved to feel that it was still somewhat warm. Pulling his fingers out of the water Raphael leaned back on his chair, bringing the blankets that cradled his shoulders even closer to him.
Keeping his gaze on the unconscious form in the bathtub he took in the little details that he never noticed before. He took in the old and new scars that marred the lighter shaded scaly skin, the way the knee was bent in a somewhat weird position to help it heal from the trauma it received, to the cracks that decorated the chest plate healing themselves slowly, to the fading brusies that had painted the base of his throat. Raphael forced himself to look away from the person in the tub, and focused on the other things within the bathroom before he finally landed his sharp gaze onto the clock above the door. The hands of the ancient clock had settled onto the current time making Raphael suck in a somewhat shaky breath.
"11:49 huh....? That gives us about eleven, ten minutes before midnight."
Raphael muttered to himself his eyes slowly turning back to the person next to him.
"And when it's midnight, that means it'll officially be the beginning of Christmas. Ain't that some weird shit Fearless?"
Raphael asked his voice soft and tight, staring at the unconscious form of his older brother Leonardo. The eldest brother didn't respond to the second eldest, instead his eyes remained closed, his body unmoving save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Raphael felt a sharp pain hit him square in his chest as he was greeted with silence save for the gentle dripping sounds of the water from the leaky faucet. It was a sound that Raphael had grown used to, a sound of water and silence and soft breathing. It was a sound that at one time meant nothing, it now meant waiting for his older brother to wake up and end the oppressive and ominous silence that plagued the bathroom for the past few weeks. Throat tightening Raphael couldn't help but think about just how screwed up his life was. Couldn't help but think about how only a few weeks ago he'd been in New York City, living in his home with his father and brothers and April and Casey. Couldn't help but think of how simple and serene and peaceful his life had been only a few weeks ago.
'Where did it go so wrong...? Why did it go so wrong....?'
The questions buzzed about in his head, filling his mind with unwanted memories of that awful and horrific night. Memories of being powerless as he, his brothers, April and Casey were forced to watch as their enemy, the Shredder had murdered Master Splinter before their very eyes. Memories of watching his master, his father's body being tossed into the sewer system and pulled away by the fierce and raging icy waters to his death, of his brothers horrified screams along with April's and his own. Memories of Casey and Michelangelo holding him back from trying to kill the monster who took their father away from them, of Michelangelo begging him to come on and telling him that they needed to find Leonardo. Memories of an apartment living room and receiving the news that Leonardo was still missing, only to have his broken and beaten body thrown through April's window and right at his and his brothers feet. He could see it as clear as day, crystal clear and vivid, could still hear his voice and his brothers horrified shouts as they rushed to their unconscious and fatally injured brother. Donatello's horror filled gasp as he looked Leonardo over, Michelangelo's terrified voice as he saw the cracked shell. All of it on full display like a movie that he couldn't pause for the life of him.
Raphael's hands gripped the edges of his blankets, his knuckles turning nearly white from the strain. He felt his heart pound, the bump-bump loud in his ears as he recalled it all, as he recalled how he had to take the lead, recalled how he and what was left of his family had to retreat and escape from the city before the Kraang or the Shredder got ahold of them. Raphael's throat constricted as he was hit with a wave of anger, frustration, grief and guilt. His eyes burned and he found himself struggling to keep it together, to keep himself above the waves of his emotional turmoil. He should have been there, should have argued with Leonardo about going alone, should had known that something terrible would happen. He should have been there for his brother, should of had his back when he needed him the most. But he hadn't, he hadn't been there for Leonardo, just as he hadn't been there for Master Splinter. He had failed them. Raphael felt himself choke a bit on this knowledge the guilt and grief he felt hot and burning him from the inside out. Raphael felt his memories and emotions hit him at lightening speeds, drowning him and pulling him underneath their currents. Lost within the storm he didn't notice the two figures who had came into the bathroom until he'd felt a familiar embrace around him.
"It's.....it's okay Raphie......it's okay....."
A voice childish and full of tears pulled Raphael from his current position forcing him back to reality. Bright green eyes full of pain and grief met bright baby blues that were swimming with tears. Raphael sucked in a sharp breath as he realized that Michelangelo was the one hugging him tightly. Standing behind the orange clad turtle was Donatello, the tall turtle looking no better than his younger brother.
"Raph.....oh Raph it's okay.....we......we miss them too....."
Donatello said understanding immediately before he too rushed forward to hug their older brother. Raphael stiffened at the contact, enveloped within the arms of his little brothers who just like him were hurting and full of grief and guilt. Raphael found himself letting go of his blankets and wrapping his arms around his little brothers, clinging to them tightly as if he was afraid that they too would end up leaving him behind. The three brothers didn't say anything for a long time, instead just basking in each other's presence and remaining close to their comatose older brother. After what felt like an eternity the three brothers finally separated, their eyes slightly red and puffy. None of them commented on it, instead choosing to not acknowledge it. Donatello turned his attention towards the tub to check on Leonardo, his hands gentle and skillful as he did his checkup on their blue clad brother. Michelangelo sat on the floor by Raphael's legs and had reached into the tub to take hold of Leonardo's hand.
"Hey Leo.....I hope that your nap is going good and that you're getting better. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas bro.....and that we miss you....."
Michelangelo said his tone soft and full of forced cheer, but it was obvious that he was struggling to keep it together. Raphael felt his heart drop at what his little brother said and found his gaze snapping up to the clock again quickly realizing that yes it was now past midnight and that it was officially Christmas. His heart gave a nasty twist within his chest as the knowledge that it was truly Christmas and that Leonardo and Master Splinter weren't there with them, that this Christmas was the first one in their entire lives hit him. Judging by Michelangelo's shaking arm that was currently gripping Leonardo's hand and Donatello's tight frown on his face they were realizing this too.
"Mikey's right......we miss you Leo........please come back home soon....."
Donatello said his voice cracking a bit as he fought with his emotions. Michelangelo reached out with his other hand to give Donatello's arm a comforting squeeze earning a watery look from his older brother. Raphael watched them feeling like the world was crumbling around them.
"We're waiting for you to wake up Leo, so you better do it soon.....Christmas isn't the same without you here."
Raphael said gruffly, his voice wavering. The two younger brothers looked over at their red brother already understanding what he was saying. The trio of turtles went quiet after that, just sitting near their oldest brother in an attempt to reassure themselves that Leonardo was still there with them despite being in a coma, wanting nothing more than to be with him that Christmas morning. While they sat there silently, basking in Leonardo's presence as well as each other's the three turtles suddenly felt a shift within the bathroom and three pairs of eyes snapped towards the doorway. Standing in the doorway was April and Casey. The two human teens were obviously not okay, giving their own pained looks. April looked at the trio, her steel blue eyes full of understanding.
"Do you mind if we join you guys for Christmas?"
The red head asked, her voice soft.
"If not then it's completely fine bro."
Casey piped up his dark brown eyes full of sympathy. The trio of turtles looked at their friends their gazes softening at them.
"April, Casey you're both always welcome to join us."
Donatello said his reddish brown eyes full of exhaustion but sincerity.
"Yeah dudes, you're always welcome to join us and hang, especially on Christmas."
Michelangelo said his voice a little bit more lighter than it had been.
"You're family, both of you. Now get your asses in here we don't want to let anymore cold air in here. Leo needs all the warmth he can get."
Raphael said his tone serious and a bit more put together. April and Casey didn't need any further encouragement, already stepping inside the small bathroom and closing the door behind them. April was quick to sit herself next to Donatello, her blanket quickly extended to him to help warm him up. Donatello was quick to accept the silent offer already going to snuggle up against her. Casey meanwhile went next to Raphael, his own blankets wrapped around himself however he was quick to pass one of them to Michelangelo which the youngest turtle quickly accepted and wrapped himself up in it. Once they were all settled into their warm bundles and they were all somewhat close to their comatose brother, the group of five slowly began to grow sleepy, feeling somewhat relaxed now that all six of them were together. One by one they drifted off till all that remained awake was Raphael and Donatello. The two brothers were silent as they watched their remaining loved ones sleep, looking somewhat peaceful for the first time in the last few weeks. Raphael looked up at Donatello meeting his reddish brown gaze.
"So.....how's he doing?"
Raphael asked his voice soft and blunt. Donatello seemed to take a deep breath his expression exhausted and somewhat grave.
"I.....I don't know. If I'm being honest with the extent of Leo's injuries he.....he may never actually wake up....."
Donatello said giving the most truthful answer. The purple turtle watched as his older brother flinched slightly as if he'd been punched in the face, completely understanding the reaction.
'What a terrible way to find out about this......on Christmas morning of all the things.'
Donatello couldn't help but think his own gut sinking at the knowledge that Leonardo may never wake up. And he knew that Raphael was feeling the same way. Donatello didn't even want to think about Leonardo not waking up, didn't want to think about the possibility of his older brother remaining comatose forever. It was a possibility that should it come to pass Donatello as well as his family would never be able to recover from it.
'We can't lose Leo, we've already lost Master Splinter if we lose Leo too.....'
Donatello felt his throat tighten once more at the dreadful thoughts however he was snapped out of them by Raphael.
"He'll wake up. Leo's the strongest and most stubborn person we know, he's fearless and he's not a quitter. He'll pull through, we just have to wait for him Donnie."
Raphael said his voice strong and full of a belief that made Donatello stare at him in slight surprise. But the more he thought about Leonardo and just how his big brother was the more Donatello believed in what Raphael said.
"You're right. Leo will pull through. He always does in the end."
Donatello said trying to give Raphael a smile however his mouth wobbled slightly as he tried to hold onto hope. Raphael gave Donatello a small smile to help ease him and got himself settled into his chair careful not to wake up Michelangelo or Casey.
"Get some sleep Donnie, we've got a long day ahead of us today."
Raphael said using his best no arguing voice. Donatello yawned and nodded already knowing what his red clad brother was talking about. Snuggling up with April Donatello slowly drifted off as well leaving Raphael alone in the waking world. The oldest brother watched over his family for awhile, content on just being there with them. Raphael found himself gazing around the bathroom once more his eyes landing on the window and he caught sight of snowflakes fluttering in the darkness. He thought about the first snowfall of that year, how he and his family's tradition hadn't happened that year. He thought about how instead of him and his family being within the sewers to watch it they had instead had been in April's apartment and had ended up losing Master Splinter and Leonardo. Raphael felt his heart twist and he forced himself to get a grip, thinking about what he told Donatello. Looking back towards Leonardo, Raphael took in his older brother and his other family members, and how despite their situation they were still together and just how precious it truly was. As the hot headed turtle slowly drifted off he promised himself that as soon as Leonardo was awake and moving once more he'd make sure that he and his family would never have to have another Christmas like this one. He'd rather die than let it happen again.
~~~~~
Raphael Hamato sat within the lair, no longer fifteen years old but now a grown man of eighteen. The red clad turtle was relaxing on the couch enjoying the peaceful moment despite all the people who were currently within his home. Gazing lazily around he caught sight of Michelangelo and his younger doppelganger Mikey chatting away with one another and playing video games. Over by the pinball machines was Raph and Donnie who were cheering for Leo and Donatello who were currently going up against one another in the game, their voices full of excitement and free of the responsibilities that they usually carried. Sitting in the kitchen was April and Casey who were watching the two groups with amusement as they spoke with one another. However there was one person missing from these groups of turtles and humans. Raphael found himself sitting up a bit to try and locate the missing member of his small family however he didn't have to look for long.
"Ya know sitting all by yourself isn't the most healthy thing to do."
A voice crocking and full of teasing amusement came from beside him. Raphael flickered his eyes towards the source of the voice, bright green eyes meeting twinkling dark blue ones. Leonardo had sat himself down next to Raphael a smile on his face. Raphael gave a huff of amusement and sent his older brother a smirk.
"Never said I was going for the healthy way Fearless, plus I like sitting alone. It's peaceful, besides you can't judge me since I've seen you do the exact same thing."
Raphael said tone teasing. The red clad turtle felt his heart lighten up with content satisfaction when he was rewarded Leonardo's laughter. It was a sound that Raphael adored, a sound that wasn't heard too often these days and every time he managed to get a laugh out of him Raphael was filled with pride at having accomplished his mission.
"You got me there Raph. Well if you don't mind I'll just join you in your self assigned peaceful solitude."
Leonardo said with a bright smile. Raphael just snorted and waved him off.
"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. We can enjoy the peaceful solitude together till one of our brothers disrupts it."
Raphael said as he watched Leonardo get settled into the seat next to him on the couch. The second eldest child couldn't help but notice just how relaxed Leonardo was, and just how grown up he was. He took in all the scars and all the nicks in his chest plate and shell, took in just how alive and well Leonardo was and he felt his heart soar with just how lucky he was to have Leonardo there with him and their family.
'After everything we've been through, after all the close calls and sacrifices we've had, we still managed to get through it.'
He thought pleased and happy that he still had his family. That Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, April and Casey were still with him. As Raphael thought about it he couldn't help but think about all the trails they'd faced and all the precious moments that they all shared. As he thought about it a flash of memory hit him, of tiny turtles and their beloved father gathering beneath storm drains as they all watched the first snowfall of the season together. He thought about that precious memory and how he'd nearly lost the chance to have those kinds of moments with all of his brothers and before he realized it he'd opened his mouth and spoke up.
"Do you remember that tradition we all used to do back when.....when Master Splinter was still with us?"
Raphael asked not daring to look at his older brother afraid that he didn't remember.
"Tradition.....you mean the first snowfall one? Of course I remember it how could I forget it??"
Leonardo said his tone filling with a fond nostalgia at it.
"Yeah that one......I was thinking about it and......I think we should do that again this year."
Raphael said his voice getting a bit gruff like as he felt his embarrassment kick in. However his embarrassment didn't last long as he felt a hand pat his shell and was met with a beaming smile.
"That sounds like an amazing plan Raph, we'll do it as soon as the winter season starts."
Leonardo said his tone a bit crackly in his slight enthusiasm. Raphael went to say something before he felt a body tackle him from behind the couch making him lean forward with an oof.
"Dudes are we really gonna do the snowfall tradition?!? It's been ages bros!!!"
Michelangelo said his voice loud in his childish excitement. Raphael growled struggling to get his little brother off of him.
"Mikey get off of me you little-"
He began to growl out in irritation only to be interrupted by another voice coming from Leonardo's direction.
"I can set up the TPhones to keep an eye on the weather forecasts come autumn and I can upgrade my computer to keep a more detailed account for the first snowfall of the winter season."
Donatello said, leaning over the back of the couch as he watched Raphael and Michelangelo bicker somewhat in amusement as he spoke to the trio.
"That's a great idea Don, that'll help us keep better track and be more prepared."
Leonardo said sounding proud of Donatello's thinking. The purple turtle seemed to get flustered and was about to say something when they were all interrupted by another voice chiming in.
"Snowfall tradition? What's that??"
Mikey's voice piped up having followed his older doppelganger to see what was going on. Behind him were his own brothers who were all just as curious as him about what the older turtles were talking about.
"Only the best thing in the world little dude-!! Every year we'd watch the weather and see when the first snowfall would hit New York! Once we figured it out all of us would go to one of the manholes or drainage openings and watch!! It was one of the best things of the whole year!!"
Michelangelo said his baby blues sparkling. Mikey's own light brown hues seemed to catch the sparkle that Michelangelo's had and was quickly filled with just as much excitement as his older counterpart.
"Oh me gosh that sounds so cool!"
Mikey squealed with delight.
"I know right??? Oh dude you and your bros should totally join us it'd be rocking!!!"
Michelangelo squealed right back. The two orange clad turtles had quickly went off the rails in their excitement oblivious to their surroundings.
"Miguel I don't think that's-"
Donnie began to say only to be cut off.
"Is that it's still a bit early for something like that and we should probably wait before we all make any plans like that."
Raph said shooting Donnie a pointed look. The soft shell just gave his older brother an unamused look.
"It honestly sounds hella sick, Lee why didn't you guys say something this is like the most awesome tradition."
Leo piped up leaning on Leonardo who just gave him a bemused look.
"Never really came up."
The older blue clad turtle responded earning a mock offended gasp from his younger counterpart. At this point April and Casey had joined the group of eight, having caught what was being discussed.
"That sounds like a fun time! I think we should give it a shot and do it this year."
April chirped obviously getting a bit ecstatic about the idea. Casey was grinning widely next to her as he leaned on Donatello who gave a grunt but otherwise remained silent.
"Red's right that would be wicked to see."
The hockey player said. Soon the room was filled with voices and excitement at the tradition and plans on how they'd all go about. Raphael at this point had given up trying to get Michelangelo off of him and instead took in the sight of the people around him and realized just how truly lucky he was to have them in his life. He took in the sight of his brothers, of Donatello who was the mind behind them to Michelangelo who was the heart of their family, to April who was the inspiration, to Casey who was the carefree nature, to Leonardo who was the spirit of their family. He took them all in and thought of all the times that he'd nearly lost them, to all the times that they'd faced together, every moment, every fight, every challenge and tragedy and laughter. All of them they'd faced together, all of them they'd made it through. These five people were Raphael's strength and his very reason to keep going and he couldn't imagine life without them by his side.
But they weren't the only ones he was fighting for now.
No he was fighting for their younger counterparts as well.
Raphael had somewhere along the line had began to consider them apart of his group of those who he'd die for and just like his brothers he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.
'I've lost a lot of people within my life, and have nearly lost my brothers more times than I could count. But no matter the odds we'll always be together, because that's what we do.'
Raphael felt a small quirk of a smile on his face, a feeling of contentment filling him. However that smile was completely wiped off and replaced with flustered shock by Michelangelo's next statement.
"Hey we should totally invite Mona! She'd love it, and I bet she'd love snuggling up with Raph-"
Michelangelo began to say before Raphael's bright red face filled his vision.
"Mikey-!!!"
The lair was filled with shouts and laughter and questions after that but if Raphael was being honest he wouldn't have traded it for the world. After all every moment he spent with his loved ones were moments that he'd cherish forever.
Not that he'd ever admit that.
*Writing practice, writing practice wooooo. To be honest I kinda based this off of my one post I'd made the other day as I'd been struck by the horrifying realization that Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo had spent Christmas and New Year's alone without Leonardo and Master Splinter after the Invasion of New York's events. After that I'd decided to just start writing and it led me to this confusing mess lol. I honestly tried my best and lowkey I might end up rewriting this but who the hell knows lol. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*
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thecomicsnexus · 5 months
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Night of the Rogues! - TMNT 1987
“Night of the Rogues” was a fan-favorite episode, showcasing an epic showdown between our heroes and a formidable alliance of their greatest foes. From the streets of New York to the mysterious depths beneath, join us for an unforgettable adventure highlighting the importance of teamwork, resilience, and the unexpected bonds between the Turtles and their human allies.
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kudosmyhero · 1 year
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Batman/TMNT (vol. 2) #1: A Knight in New York, pt. 1
Read Date: October 2, 2022 Cover Date: February 2018 ● Writer: James Tynion IV ● Penciler: Freddie E. Williams II ● Inker: Freddie E. Williams II ● Colorist: Jeremy Colwell ● Letterer: Tom Napolitano ● Editor: Jim Chadwick ◦ Liz Erickson ●
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Synopsis: A man roams the streets of New York City, scared to death. He calls 911 to testify that he'd just met some demonic creatures in the sewers, who told him something scary: "COWABUNGA!".
Back in the Subway Tunnels, thirty seconds earlier, the Ninja Turtles are flying at high speed on experimental machinery that Donatello built.
Meanwhile, on a subway train, the Elite Guard of the Foot Clan are forcing Shredder's daughter (and his rightful successor) to accept them as the new leaders. She refuses, so the head of the Elite Guard kicks her off the train. She's promptly caught by Michelangelo, whom she dismisses harshly: she blames the Turtles for this situation, as they threw Shredder in prison, causing the fight for the succession to happen. Leonardo and Raphael hit the Leader and one of his men out of the train, leaving them to Donatello's wits.
Donatello charges a taser rifle he'd designed the previous night with the power he takes from the rail, but he's outplayed by the ninjas' agility and shurikens, through which they cut out his power source. The other brothers hear the scuffle and rush to aid Donnie. The Leader of the Elite Clan beats Donatello once more, telling him he's no true ninja as he's weak and without skill in combat. He almost manages to stick a spear in Donnie's face, when the other Turtles arrive and manage to defeat the foes. Donatello looks shaken by what happened.
In another reality, in Gotham City, a member of the League of Assassins enters a secret location, where he starts informing his master that the rebellious faction of the League found the Lazarus Pit he'd hidden all these years and want to use it on their new leader. Unfortunately for the assassin, there is no "master" there: only Batman and Robin, who force him to explain everything to them. He further reveals that a faction of the League believes Ra's proved himself weak after he partnered with Shredder and lost. Robin checks Bane's cell in Arkham and they realize it was destroyed from the inside.
Back to the Turtles' Universe, Casey and April are stitching up Donatello and tell the Turtles they'll have to move together at all times, considering the war between factions of the Foot Clan going on and how each faction wants their heads on a pike. Donatello still looks troubled, so he goes ask for council to Master Splinter. The Turtle claims to be inferior to his brothers because his wits cannot compensate for his lesser combat skills. As Splinter reminds him that no-one can master every ability in their lifetime, Donatello recalls meeting a man who did, a few months before, Batman. He resolves to talk to Batman about it, so he excuses himself from Splinter, who looks concerned.
One mile beneath Gotham City, Batman and Robin are reaching the hidden Lazarus Pit, when they are attacked by a Man-Bat Commando.
In New York City, a "disguised" Donatello enters Harold Lillja's hideout, where the multiversal teleportation system is kept. Donnie wants to communicate with Batman, so he tries to trace his genetic signature.
Under Gotham, Robin is pushed down a staircase by one of the Man-Bats, where he finds the mysterious Lazarus Pit. He calls his father to see it, while a maniacal laughter emerges from the water. Donatello is managing to make the machine work, but he's suddenly attacked by a division of the Foot Clan. Batman reaches the Pit, as the Man-Bats fled when they heard Bane's laughter. The villain emerges from the Pit, claiming that he's now truly free thanks to the gift of life everlasting. One of the ninjas of the Foot Clan hits the multiversal machine, which short-circuits swapping Bane and Donatello from each other's realities.
Now, as Donatello explains everything to Batman and Robin, Bane finds himself trapped by the Foot Clan, and ready to "escape" once more.
(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman/Teenage_Mutant_Ninja_Turtles_II_Vol_1_1)
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Fan Art: Batman TMNT Animated Crossover by Red-J
Accompanying Podcast: ● {none}
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cnwolf-brainrot · 4 months
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I did this again!! I drew Eight in a bunch of TMNT styles a little while ago and Eight and Okami's stories are very closely connected so I've had her story kind of sitting in my head for weeks and I couldn't resist any longer!
I posted this template here and the version with Eight is here!
Lore dump beneath the cut!
Usual Appearance/TMNT-ified (my style)
This is Okami's usual appearance throughout Fallen Renegades! She's a mutant wolf/bat hybrid that was used in a dog fighting ring for several years before she escaped, eventually meeting Eight and stepping up as a parental figure for him. Her story wouldn't change much when TMNT-ified other than the fact that she would inevitably run into the turtles!
1987
I hate how this version looks, I don't know what's happening here. Okami would probably be a minor character in like one episode of the show, probably just some random street thug that gets mutated into a wolf with bat wings because of something Krang did to try and make SUPER MUTANTS or something. Idk lol
2003
In 2003, Okami would probably be a reoccurring character. She'd appear some time in season one, probably as an antagonist for the turtles. She was created by some shady government agency as a mutant attack dog and used for years as a weapon, but managed to escape just a short time before meeting the turtles. At first she attacks them, as she's become used to essentially attacking anything that moves for most of her existence, but after she and the turtles have to work together to take down some mutual threat they establish an unsteady alliance. Over time the government agency that created her (maybe Bishop?) pops back up occasionally, and once and a while Okami is driven back to her original state and fights against the turtles. She is usually a helpful ally for them though. Like I mentioned in Eight's version he and Okami would be introduced separately in this version of the show and make their own independent appearances throughout season one, but then they would meet at some point in season two and all of their appearances after would be together!
Bayverse
Like last time I don't have a ton of lore for the Bayverse version of these characters. They were probably created together by Baxter Stockman and then Okami broke both her and Eight out and they kind of chill around the city until they help the turtles with something. I think this is actually my favorite drawing out of this set I'm kind of mad I don't have more story for it.
2012
2012 Okami was mutated by the Kraang in an experiment to add useful secondary mutations to their creations. Eight was another part of this experiment, and he and Okami ended up in neighboring containment cells. Okami's experiments focused more on the physical aspects of mutation while Eight's focused more on the internal, and when his pyrotechnic abilities kicked in it was extremely destructive. Okami was able to use the destruction to break them both out, and they were able to catch a portal to Earth. The two of them spend most of their time in the show in Kraang-related conflicts, often aiding the turtles when needed because Eight made friends with Mikey.
Rise
In Rise, Hamato Tala is a world-renowned professional boxer who fights under the name "Okami". She was a part of the Hamato clan and is a cousin to Hamato Yoshi, but her family was a bit more distant and disconnected from the usual Hamato duty since her father had also tried to defect from the clan. Like Yoshi she ended up turning her back on most tradition to seek fame and glory, though she pursued hers in the boxing ring. She found her fame, but she also found loneliness... until this little alley cat began following her around after her New York matches. She found the scrappy little guy endearing and somewhat took care of him, until one night an oozesquito bit her. She was mutated into a timber wolf/vampire bat hybrid, and (after eating the oozesquito) Eight became more humanoid and also had some of Okami's DNA. Okami basically said "well I guess this child is my responsibility now" and illegally adopted him, though the legality of the situation doesn't really matter because when she tries to go back to her human life it turns out no one recognizes her and if she tries to explain herself most people freak out. So she stops wrestling in the pro rings and instead starts taking jobs at smaller rings that are a whole lot less legal but at least make her money... and let her use her new, animalistic strength. Then of course eventually she and her adopted son run into the turtles and she finds out that, in gaining some of her DNA, Eight now has Hamato ninpo... in a very, very unstable way. Basically now this kid that she picked up on the street hears ghosts and explodes occasionally and this is something Okami is just cursed to deal with now.
Rise Movie (the future version that's not super clear on the template)
Okami dies a year or two after the Krang take over, and with her final breath she transfers the rest of her ninpo over to Eight. This stabilizes Eight's abilities and maybe it would mean that Okami doesn't get a ghost form but I don't really care, I wanted to draw her human form and also let me have some happiness imagining Four (the bas future version of Eight) talking to his ghost mom. Anyway I made a comic about this timeline and Eight's name changing to Four and it shows Okami's death lol
Mutant Mayhem
Okami was raised in a dog fighting ring before she was mutated. In fact, TCRI bought her out of the ring in order to have more test subjects as they were working to recreate Baxter Stockman's mutagen. They ran tests on her right alongside a certain burmese kitten, and for a wile both animals were deemed as failures. Of course, inevitably Eight gained his fire abilities. It was in the midst of the lab fire that Eight sparked that more of TCRI's mutagen prototypes were spilt, and the heat of Eight's flames made them a bit more effective. Okami grabbed him and dragged him out of the lab, and in the process both animals got a second dousing of mutagen that was much more effective than the first. After this Okami ended up raising Eight and took on a very similar mindset to both Splinter and Superfly; everyone is evil, stay safe and hidden. Okami is extremely protective in this version and genuinely believes everyone is out to get them, and she takes on a bit of an antagonistic role until she finally learns to chill out.
Fun fact: Okami was actually originally a TMNT OC long before Fallen Renegades existed, so it was kinda nostalgic designing these <3 she's come a LONG way since I first made her
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turtlethon · 1 year
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“Night of the Rogues” (part 1)
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Season 7, Episode 19 First US Airdate: November 20, 1993
The Turtles are forced to take on a group of their most notorious foes that have been assembled by Shredder.
We continue our journey through the seventh season of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with “Night of the Rogues”. David Wise is the credited writer for this story, which crams in so many notable TMNT characters that one Turtlethon entry isn’t big enough to cover everything! This one will be split into two parts, the second appearing on Saturday.
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We kick off today with the Turtles watching April report from outside of a courtroom, where she interviews the city’s crime commissioner. The un-named official takes credit for the recent reduction in crime, a claim that rubs the Turtles the wrong way. Raphael is particularly resentful, feeling that the work the team has been doing in battling evil goes entirely unappreciated. Splinter steps in to suggest that Raph shouldn’t bear any ill feelings towards humans, and that the the team may need their help soon enough.
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Following her report April alerts the Turtles to a break in at the city’s Hall of Records. The team arrive to find Shredder, Rocksteady, Bebop and Krang (in his bubble walker) rooting through files. A battle follows that quickly spills out into the street, at which point Shredder grumbles some standard guff about the Turtles pushing him too far, and one of the glaring issues with we’ll have to deal with moving forward becomes apparent: as James Avery has now departed from the series, Townsend Coleman will be our substitute Shreds for today and the remainder of the season.
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As Shredder comes out on the losing end of a fight against the Turtles, getting covered in tar in the process, Krang manages to get the documents they came for. He has the villains regroup, leading to their escape via transport module. With the police approaching, the Turtles also retreat. Raphael continues to be bitter, noting that the cops will no doubt take credit for the work carried out by our heroes.
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Shredder is seen wiping off the tar in the Technodrome and declares his intention to defeat the Turtles once and for all. Krang tries to have him maintain focus, pointing out that the Scheme of the Day is already in motion and will be a better use of his time, but Shreds won’t listen. Bebop and Rocksteady are keen to help their boss out, but for the second episode in a row find themselves surplus to requirements: this time they’re sidelined in a far harsher fashion than before, both being dropped through a trap door. Shreds declares that Bebop and Rocksteady have failed him for the last time, abandoning his henchmen to begin plotting his revenge against the Turtles.
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As the Turtles try to piece together what the Technodrome crew were doing in the Hall of Records, Shredder is seen performing repairs on his old robot Chrome Dome before passing through a portal to Dimension X on a recruitment mission. Later, he returns to meet up with Krang, who again scolds him for not concentrating on their mission, a journey to the sewers to begin an excavation project imminent. Shredder is thrilled at the news as this road trip will grant him an opportunity to invite other villains to join his new anti-Turtle faction.
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We briefly check in with The Boys, who remain trapped in the shaft beneath the trap door. Rocksteady worries that they may spend the rest of their lives in this confined area, but Bebop quips it may only be for the rest of the episode. Meanwhile April checks through computer data for the Turtles and finds that the records stolen by Shredder and Krang relate to the layout of the sewers in 1895. Unbeknownst to our heroes, their old foes are already at work underground. Krang informs Shredder that the stolen notes point out an area where the workers were unable to drill down and place a pillar, a sign that whatever lies beneath is impossibly tough. Disinterested, Shredder wanders off to work on building his new gang.
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The Turtles use the details provided by April to approach the area where Krang has set up his excavation project, but encounter Shredder along the way. The masked villain announces that he’s fighting his hated foes for the last time, leading Raph to counter by asking if this means he’s leaving the show (a joke that’s a little on the nose given that Shredder’s voice actor just did). Shreds reveals to the Turtles his new all-star villain team, five of whom are established characters who have appeared in previous episodes alongside two who are new to the show. Let’s look at each of them in the order they’re revealed:
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THE RAT KING (Townsend Coleman): One of the most prominent recurring bad guys outside of the Technodrome crew, the Rat King is a burly fellow who resides in the sewers and commands an army of rodents. Carried over from the Mirage TMNT comics, he first appeared in the ‘87 cartoon in “Enter the Rat King”, which established his desire to capture Splinter and have the ninja master do his bidding. Rat King’s prominence and status declined following the destruction of his hypnotic flute by Splinter in “Were-Rats from Channel 6”, only making two additional appearances in the years that followed.
SLASH (Pat Fraley): Introduced in season four’s “Slash - The Evil Turtle from Dimension X” (which is also how Shredder introduces him here), Slash is a super mutant turtle who began life as Bebop’s secret pet before becoming a deranged villain hell-bent on finding the palm tree from his old pet bowl, which he refers to as his “binky”. His debut episode ended with him being sent into Dimension X in a rocket designed to transport garbage. He would return in season six’s “Donatello Trashes Slash”, having had super intelligence bestowed upon him following an encounter with a group of aliens. After a fall that restored him to his usual dopey self, Slash was sent back into space by the Turtles.
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LEATHERHEAD: A Cajun alligator transformed following the contamination of a Florida swamp, Leatherhead debuted in the season three adventure “Leatherhead: Terror of the Swamp”, an adventure in which the Turtles would travel to the Everglades to aid their old friends the Punk Frogs. After his defeat, he would resurface in New York a few episodes later that year in “Leatherhead Meets the Rat King”, which set up a rivalry between the two villains. Season four saw the two bad guys patch things up to take on the Turtles together in “Splinter Vanishes”. Normally voiced by Jim Cummings, today the role is handled by Townsend Coleman.
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TEMPESTRA (Gaille Heideman): A video game boss brought to life, Tempestra was defeated at the conclusion of the only episode she appeared in – season four’s “Leonardo Versus Tempestra” - having been sucked back into the circuit board of the arcade machine she originally emerged from. Now she’s back... somehow?!
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SCUMBUG (Barry Gordon): A mutant cockroach appearing here for the first time, possibly at the request of Playmates although given that his toy was released in 1990 the retail window for this figure had likely passed by this point. His file card bio explains that he was an exterminator hired to deal with a roach problem in the Technodrome that wound up being mutated. Whether this origin applies to the TV incarnation of the character is anyone’s guess. It’s implied that the Turtles have had prior interactions with Scumbug off-screen that we as viewers never witnessed.
ANTRAX (Pat Fraley): The other new character introduced here, Antrax is an axe-wielding alien ant who is said to be Krang’s executioner from Dimension X. This is consistent with the file card bio for his toy, which like Scumbug’s was a few years old by the time this episode made it to broadcast.
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CHROME DOME (Peter Reneday): A giant robot warrior who was introduced at the conclusion of the prime-time special “Planet of the Turtleoids”. Chrome Dome was swiftly defeated by the Turtles, and hasn’t been seen again in the series until now; while still towering over the other villains, he’s considerably smaller here than he was in his first go-around.
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Shredder’s new strategy involves paying the assembled group of villains to finish off the Turtles for him, presumably with the thinking that if each of them was able to get somewhat close to defeating our heroes individually, then together they can pull it off. He leaves the team to do their thing, and initially this strategy seems effective as the Turtles are forced to fall back. The Rogues – I suppose we can use that as their collective name – pursue the green team, each of them using their own unique skills and powers to put their enemies on the defensive.
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Regrouping, the Turtles are forced to accept Raphael’s original suggestion of retreating, but find themselves backed into a tunnel where the only means of escape is via a steep drop into the sewer’s streams. The group take the plunge, with the villains keen to follow them until Rat King points out there are countless directions that the sewer system could have flushed them down.
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At this point, we get the worst “ah gah-rawn-tee" in the history of the series. I wonder if Townsend Coleman was asked to dutifully fill in for James Avery and Jim Cummings at the last second, because none of the usual energy he brings to the role of Michaelangelo is present in his performances here as Leatherhead or Shredder. Anyway, Tempestra seems to be emerging as the effective leader of The Rogues, and suggests they draw the Turtles out of the sewers by creating chaos above ground.
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The Rogues split into duos, with Chrome Dome and Antrax destroying civil war statues while the Rat King and Slash target a pizzeria. A ceremony is taking place outside “Ye Olde Pizza”, where a man explains to a crowd that the business was the first restaurant built in the city, “over 400 years ago”. Did Walter Raleigh found this fucking enterprise?! Rat King and Slash watch as the building is officially recognised as a historic site – I mean yeah, I guess it really would be – and therefore it’s precious enough to be worth destroying to attract the attention of the Turtles. Rat King apparently has a new flute, either that or David Wise has forgotten that he had the flute destroyed in season four. Waves of rats emerge from the sewers and begin chewing on the building’s foundations.
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Tempestra causes chaos at Channel 6, creating an indoor storm that allows Burne to get a great one-liner in about having “to cancel the news on account of the weather”. Vernon tries to escape but is captured by Leatherhead.
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April uses her Turtlecom to inform the Turtles of the various upheavals being caused by The Rogues. The Turtles pick up on the real intentions of the villains, figuring that if they show their faces, they’ll be doing exactly what they’re expected to. Raphael suggests that this is an indicator they should allow the humans to deal with things on their own, but is outvoted by the others who remind him that they’re “supposed to be heroes”, and reluctantly ends up tagging along.
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Shredder meets up with Krang, whose excavation project is about to hit paydirt. The masked villain suggests that the reason everything seems to be going so well is that Bebop and Rocksteady aren’t around to mess up. Back in the Technodrome, The Boys have been stuck in the trap door shaft for so long that they start wondering if Shredder is okay, and begin looking for a means of escaping in order to help him.
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Leonardo confronts both Chrome Dome and Antrax as they destroy the city’s stock exchange building. Initially Leo puts up a good fight, but it doesn’t take long before he’s captured. Elsewhere, Michaelangelo fittingly steps in to save Ye Old Pizza from Rat King and Leatherhead, but has the entire building dropped on him before being restrained too.
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Scumbug seems to have been tagging along with Tempestra and Leatherhead this entire time, getting no screen time during the whole villainous city rampage bit until now. He winds up cornering the remaining Channel 6 crew of Burne, Irma and April on his own, until Donatello and Raphael step in. The Turtles find themselves defeated as the roach mutant uses his toxic gun to create a hole in the floor; Tempestra then emerges and uses her weather ability to knock her enemies through it. Leatherhead is close by, and together the three villains manage to restrain Donnie and Raph with an energy net.
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Having captured all four of the Turtles between them, the reunited Rogues shove the green teens into a room within the roof-mounted mascot statue of a pest control company. Chrome Dome produces a time-controlled disintegrator that will vaporise anyone and anything in the vicinity when it goes off, and the group leave the Turtles to die as the second act ends.
...Continued in the next Turtlethon entry - see you on Saturday!
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