The (Incomplete) Injury Log Of The ROTTMNT Movie (SPOILERS AHEAD)

Rise April Challenge: Day 8 Boom

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Ao3 Link: Here

Donnie groaned as he woke up, head pounding. His mind was already moving through the motions of waking up and starting his day (and/or afternoon.) But his train of half thought was derailed by the weight of his battle shell that was still on his back.

He never slept with his battle shell. Leo would have chewed him out for months if he did, Donnie knew better than to challenge him on that front. Which meant that something was very wrong.

Donnie opened his eyes to find himself lying on his side, on a cold concrete floor. The room he was in was huge and empty, a warehouse of some kind. Moonlight was the only source of light, cast in from the small windows high up on the walls. As his eyes squinted, trying to make out the shapes in the dark, he just managed to see that the walls were inscribed with graffiti. Which wouldn’t have been unusual, this was New York, except for the fact it was all the same piece of art. A large explosion with the word ‘BOOM’ splashed across it. Donnie looked out over the room with growing confusion as he saw it repeated over and over on the walls, some clustered so close to each other that they overlapped and covered one another, while in other places there would be yards that were completely bare. What was happening?

Don leaned down and attempted to bring up his comm to try and reach his brothers. But when he did the screen flashed with two words that made the turtle grit his teeth: 'No Signal.' That wasn't something that happened to Don's tech. Which meant one thing, something was jamming his comms.

Donnie sighed, stood up, and took a step forward. Only to feel his toes just brush on something plastic. He froze and leaned over to see the faintest of discoloration of something close to his foot. He bent down and pulled on his goggles to see it better. It was a flat circle, plastic from what he could see. At first Donnie was confused at what he was looking at exactly, and then the horrible, fearful, realization dawned on him.

It was a landmine.

His foot was centimeters away from activating it, if he had longer legs or had leaned forward even a little further it would have exploded under him. His mind ran with images of what would have happened if it was just an inch closer. Donnie thought of taking a slow step back from the thing, when another thought occurred to him. He raised his head slowly and looked out at the rest of the floor and grew even stiffer. The whole floor was covered in mines. Like the graffiti, the small disks were spread out without any order to them, clustered or sparsely scattered all over. And Donnie didn’t have his jetpack shell!

Damit! The only good thing he could see was a door on the opposite wall from him. It wasn't an impossible distance. He just needed to...

Ok. Ok. He could do this. Donnie slid his left foot to the side and took a slow step forward with his right. He scanned the floor and picked it up right to move it to the next safe spot. Easy.

It was slow going, the mines were hard to see in the dark even with his goggles. They were painted the same color as the floor, and it was only using his glass's ability to detect them and put a glowing indicator over them that Donnie was able to move through them. It also didn’t help that he sometimes had to backtrack to avoid a dead end or a section that he could tell that he wouldn’t be able to move through.

Why were these even here? Had someone built them to try and trap him or did they have another use?

Donnie was so close to the door now, only a few feet away. The mines had grown in number, and he had to stretch to reach new safe areas. So close, so close. He had just placed his right foot when his headset let out a loud warning beep and he froze. His weight delicately held in place by one crocked foot while the other just barely touched the floor in front of him. He tipped forward, shifted his weight and yanked himself towards the new safe zone and waited.

Nothing happened.

Donnie let out a deep breath and looked at the alert that just disturbed him. It was a huge number of markers, right in front of where he was standing, huddled close together in a semi-circle around the door. 4 rows, and no space between them to step.

He felt himself start scratching his arm, his short nails leaving thin white lines on his skin. The door was right there, he couldn’t just stay here. He needed to jump for it.

No. No. That was a stupid plan, there was too much risk. Could he even leap that far? And even if he could-

He had to.

Donnie spread his feet as far as he could and squatted. He shook his hands and tried very hard not to think about what he was doing.

He jumped.

He didn’t shut his eyes, he needed to see where he was going.

Donnie’s feet hit hard. There was one split second where he was sure he was going to fall; he could feel his feet twist to keep up with the shifting momentum, and he was almost certain that they were about to slide out from under him.

He didn’t fall.

He had made it. He smiled and faced the door. Whatever trap this maniac had set up had failed. He was home free.

This was too easy.

He pushed the door and smiled at the cold night air.

Snap!

Beep.

Donnie froze and looked down at the trip wire that had been snaped by the door’s swing.

Beep.

He traced it to the wall of the building.

Beep.

He stared at a mass of wires, taped to the side of the warehouse.

Beep.

Shit.

Donnie ran.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

BOOM!

There was no slow, epic, walkaway. No bright orange flashy lights. The boom was set off with waves of compressed air and noises so loud that Donnie’s ears rang. The heat was consuming and the softshell fell forward after the first wave. He scrambled to his feet and kept running.

He could stop, he had to keep moving, because-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Donnie heard the mines inside going off and focused on keeping himself going. He ran and darted down alleyways and around corners. Finally, stopping when the light of the fires could no longer be seen. He leaned against a trash can and tried to slow his breathing.

His comm crackled to life. Raph’s worried and gruff voice barely reaching him through the ringing in his ears.

“Don! Don! Are you there? Donnie, can you hear me?!” Donnie lifted the comm to his mouth and responded.

“I’m here. I’m ok.”

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Ao3 Link: Here

Please check out @zee-rambles who came up with this challenge. And take a look at @rise-april-art-challenge to see other submissions. Please give feedback if I need to work on something.

Not mine, but BEAUTIFUL!

doodled a little Marta while rewatching knives out, definitely one of my desert island movies (all time fav category)

One Part of My Brain: Ah yes, a beautiful piece of art.

The Rest Of My Brain: Baby. Baby. Babies. Yes, they are babies. They are small, and babies.

Turtle tots! 💚

Rise April Challenge 15: Buddy

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Ao3 Link: Here

Buddy really liked his friends. They were fun, and always fixed him up when he got torn up. They were great!

Sometimes they got torn up too. But it was different than when he was ripped. A bit of tape and paper and he was fine, but his friends didn’t work like that.  

They leaked when they got a tare, apparently it was called “bleeding,” and they needed to wait a long time to get better. Thankfully Blue-Friend was very good at fixing human rips and holes, they also were harder to rip them than Buddy.

But there was another thing that was different.

He had been confused when his Orange-Friend made a huge amount of noise as Blue smeared a green cream over his fingers. When the smaller one had yelled as he ripped his hand from the hot pan, Buddy had thought that it was to call the Blue one to help. But even as he was getting fixed, Orange kept yelping and shouting. Why? Blue was already here.  

It had been very confusing.

-

He ended up asking Red-Friend. It was hard since he didn’t know how to say a lot of words, although Purple-One was teaching him more.

“Hey, Buddy. What’s up?” Red asked as he walked into the dojo.

“Buddy!” The paperman said. He found out that his name was also a used to say friend. That was very fun! He waited till he was closer before beginning to piece together his question.

“Why... do... Orange... make noise... when...” Buddy paused, trying to grab the word. “...he touch... hot?” That worked.

Red furrowed his eyes.

“When he got burned?” Burned! That was the word. He’ll try to remember that.  

Buddy nodded.

“Well, it hurt. That’s kinda what you do.”

Hurt. That wasn’t a new word, Buddy had heard it before, but he didn’t know what it meant.

“What... ‘hurt’?”

Red looked shocked, before shaking his head.

“Right, forgot that you don’t know this stuff. Hurt is... uh, like when you feel pain.”

“Pain?” He didn’t know that one.

“It’s like-” Red started but stopped and stared at Buddy. Buddy stared back. “Do you... like feel pain? It’s just that your paper and-” He stopped again, and Buddy just waited. “Pain is like when your body is yelling at you. That something is hurting- uh, that something is wrong. Do you... have that?”

Buddy thought about it. He always knew when something was wrong with his body, but it never yelled at him. (He thinks Red meant that part ‘figuratively’. (Good word, Buddy!)) It was just him knowing that it wasn’t right.  

He eventually shook his head.  

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. Don’t worry about the noises, Buddy. It’s just something we do.”  

Buddy nodded and left to go think.

So, his friends got “hurt” and felt “pain.” That did not sound fun. Buddy thought of other times his friends were hurt. He recalled their scrunched-up faces and the ugly sounds they made. He thought of the way they squirmed, trying to get away from their rips, or how they clenched their teeth. He decided that he didn’t like seeing his friends be hurt.  

But if it was bad for him to see hurt, was it worse to have pain?  

Buddy decided that he was happy he didn’t have pain, and he was also going to make sure that his friends didn’t need to get pain.

Buddy smiled tucked away this line of thought and wondered off to see if anyone wanted to play a game with him.

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Ao3 Link: Here

Please check out @zee-rambles who came up with this challenge and take a look at @rise-april-art-challenge for more submissions from other fans. Feel free to give me feedback if I need to work on anything.

Amazing and needs to be seen by others

The Love of a Clan

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Ao3 Link

Cassandra loved the Foot Clan, so it hurt when she realized that they didn't love her back.

Or, Cassy was in a cult, and we don't talk about that enough.

-

Once the mast-  

Once the Shredder had been defeated, Cassandra had offered to help rebuild the Hamatos’ home, with a complete willingness to do so. It was only right that she attempted to undo the damage she had such a large part in causing.  

She just... hadn’t expected them to take her up on the offer. But the small rat, who appeared to be the Clan Leader, had smiled and accepted her offer, even if the rest of his clan had looked reluctant to allow it. 

So, Cassandra had followed them to the ruins of their old home and helped them pick through the rubble to find the most important parts of their lives, even if the things they found were more often just as destroyed.

Cassy recalled seeing the blue Hamato pulling at an acoustic guitar with a snapped neck out of a pile of rubble, with a weak look of devastation. Then he glanced at Cassy and broke into a cheesy stand-up routine filled with music puns. She ignored any diggs he threw her way after that. 

She had seen the youngest of the Clan staring at a wall with a hole big enough for a car to drive through. It must have once been covered in a huge mural, as she could see oranges and reds leaking out around the edges of the hole. The turtle had just stared, wrapping his arms around himself in something like a hug. Cassy had tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but he had stepped back before she had even touched him. He had flashed her an open, friendly, and unconvincing smile and she had run off looking for another job that needed doing.

The purple turtle had been the worst. She had been with him when he found his room, broken metal and sparking current boards littered the floor. And in the center of it was a small turtle shaped robot, still and unmoving, its chest torn open and wires hanging out, like some twisted surgery gone wrong. It made Cassy feel horrified, even if she hadn’t known what she was looking at.

But the turtle hadn’t reacted. His face was blank and empty. He only said one word to her.

“Leave.”

She had, trying to not drown in horror and guilt.

She helped them relocate to another part of the sewers and had bought plywood and paint with the little money she had. She spent late nights cutting, and hammering, and painting. 

It hadn’t felt like enough.

- 

Cassandra leaned against the entrance tunnel to the Hamatos’ home and glared at the ground.  

The construction of the “lair,” as the Turtles called it, was done for the day. She wasn’t needed anymore and should just be heading home. But...  

Her dad was home tonight, for once, and she isn’t sure she can handle him right now. 

Before, she would have just volunteered for another round of training by the Foot or asked to go on a mission - even another humiliating coffee run. But that wasn’t an option anymore.  

But intruding on the Turtles’ new home any longer was also not an option. She could feel the awkwardness that was always in the air when she was around. It was growing steadily the long she stood there, even if the Hamatos weren’t around. 

She gripped the edge of her sleeve and tugged. There was nothing for it, no way out of this.  

She had to go home. 

The thought filled her with a hopeless dread. 

“Hey, Cass!” 

Cassandra jumped in surprise and swung at the one who dared sneak up on her and invade her personal space.  

The largest Hamato leaned back to avoid her punch and held up his hands in a placating motion. 

“Whoops, Sorry! Raph didn’t mean to startle you,” the red turtle said with a smile. “I was just happy I caught you before you left.”  

Cassy tried to calm her rabbit quick heart and stood up straight to make eye contact with the turtle, who was still far too close for comfort.  

“Your apology is accepted,” she said and forced herself to at least try to ignore how close the snapper was. “Do you require my assistance?” 

The red Hamato, Rapheal if she remembered correctly, shook his head. 

“Um, no not exactly. I was wondering if you would be willing to train with me?” 

“...I’m sorry?” Cassandra asked, confusion clearing her mind. 

“We just finished building the dojo, but my brothers are all tuckered out, so they don’t wanna come train with me.” He glared back down the tunnel in... annoyance? Cassy wasn’t sure, understanding others had never been her strong suite. 

“You... wish to train with me?” she asked, reluctance evident in her voice. Rapheal blinked and nodded. 

“Last time we fought you were able to throw me! Like a wrestler!” he said with an eggar, giddy look in his eyes that made the previous Foot Recruit lean back at the brightness. The red Hamato just kept talking excitedly.  

“The only other one who’s been able to throw me like that is Mikey! And he doesn’t like wrestling, he prefers fighting with his nunchucks. Which is stupid because-” 

“SILENCE!” Cassandra yelled, and then quickly slammed her hand over her mouth. 

Shit. She hadn’t meant to do that. She had just wanted to make him stop talking so she could think. 

She expected the larger turtle to get angry. All the higher ups in the Foot would have, hell, most of the other recruits would too. But the snapper just blinked in surprise, then his eyes widened, and took two steps back. His hands held up and his tail wrapped around his legs. 

“Raph’s so sorry!” He said, and Cassy distantly wondered why he constantly referred to himself in the third person. “My family doesn’t really have a lot of personal space, so we can forget about it sometimes. You don’t have to train with me if you don’t want to.” 

Cassandra cleared her throat and stood as tall as she could. 

“I would be honored to engage in combat with you again, Hamato Raphel. Please, lead the way.” 

Her new sparring partner shifted and blinked. 

“Just Raph is fine. Are you sure?” 

“I am.” She wasn’t lying. Fighting the Hamatos’ was always incredible. And Rapheal- Raph –always threw himself into his battles so completely, something she understood very well. 

Raph smiled and headed towards the dojo, with Cassy following behind. 

- 

Sparing with Rapheal was the best training Cassy ever had.  

The turtle was so strong that every hit felt like a wrecking ball, and the stances he made felt unbreakable.  

It was like fighting against a hurricane or a tidal wave. It would have been terrifying, if Cassy hadn’t happily returned everything the Hamato gave in kind. Raph was impossibly strong, and every blow she was able to land made her feel just as powerful. 

Weapons had been prohibited for today, so they often just ended up tackling each other and ending up grappling on the ground. Raph’s weight may have helped him here, but he wasn’t as flexible as her. They were evenly matched, and that just made Cassy fight harder to gain the upper hand. 

She had the snapper in a choke hold when she felt him tap out on her arm. She released her hold and fell to the floor, gasping for air. The turtle groaned and rolled over. 

“Water break,” he huffed out, and she nodded.  

Rapheal- Raph, be respectful. She reminded herself. -walked over to a beat up old minifridge in the corner and pulled out two bottles, offering one out. Cassy rolled to her feet and took the water. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor; her sparring partner doing the same.  

“You have got to show me how to do that throw you used,” the red Hamato said.  

“I will happily help you learn any move I know,” she responded. “But I must request you do the same, your form is much more advanced than mine.”  

The turtle chuckled. 

“Uh, sure.” Both drank heavily and relaxed against the wall. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you always talk like that? You’re so formal.” 

Cassy tensed. 

“...I could ask you the same. Your habit of referring to yourself with your name is not common either.” 

“Yeah, fair,” the eldest Hamato admitted. There was a moment of long silence, where Rapheal shifted uncomfortably. 

“I was never very good with names.” Cassy looked up at the snapper, who wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I was never good with words in general. It just didn’t make sense in my brain. Why attach sounds to things? I did use them, but it felt real dumb to kid me.”

There was a soft smile on the turtle's face, as he spoke. Seeing it was like feeling a warm fire across a long room. Warm, but distant.  

But then the smile fell away, and the flames burned out.

“But then Donnie wouldn’t talk at all. He didn’t say a word until he was 4. And little me got scared and wondered if he just didn’t know any words, and so I tried to help him.

“I started narrating what I was doing out loud. Like: ‘Raph is building a tower out of blocks’ or ‘Raph is upset that he has to clean up.’”

The snapper let out a low chuckle.

“It was stupid. But it kinda worked. The first thing he said to me was that I talked too much. I was just so relieved that I actually tackled him. But, yeah, I just never got out of the habit of using my name like that. Plus, I think it adds to my charms.”

Cassy sat in stillness for a long time, then she looked down and pulled her knees up.  

“I had hoped that using more formal language would get my superiors in the Foot to respect me.” Cassadra admitted. 

Rapheal whipped to look at her. “

“Oh, dammit! I didn’t mean to bring up- I’m-” 

“If you apologize again, I will beat you to a pulp!” She said and glared, and his mouth clicked shut 

“...you don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to.” He said after a minute.  

“No. I want to.” 

She did, surprisingly. Just that one sentence felt like coming up for air after drowning. Maybe it was just because Raph had shared with her first, maybe it was because he was comfortable enough to train with her, maybe she was just at a breaking point. But Cassy wasn’t sure if she could stop now, even if she wanted to. 

“I... hadn’t realized how much the Foot Clan had changed me until Shredder was defeated.” Her schedule was completely empty without training and missions. All of her “friends” had gone off grid. Even her closet only had clothes in red and black.  

“I- I thought they cared about me. They said they did. Or at least they used to.” 

“I’m sure they cared about you!” Raph said, aghast. “They were your clan!” 

“NO, THEY WEREN’T!” 

Cassy shot to her feet, the crackling anger of betrayal and the hot shame of being fooled finally breaking through.  

“'A Clan will protect and care for every part of itself. It will share its failures and victories. No Clan Member may have any doubt that they are loved.’”  

The words she had learned from the Foot’s scrolls flowed out of her without resistance. How many long nights had she spent reading and memorizing every ancient text the clan had saved? She learned every ritual, knew every rite of passage. Yet, she never seemed to earn those rites or rituals. Always falling short.  

“I used to train for days without rest! I trained until I couldn’t stand anymore!” 

She had pushed past her limits over and over again. She had practiced katas until she passed out from exhaustion. She had fought until she could take down even her instructors. But it hadn’t been enough. 

“I did everything they asked of me! I obeyed every request, no matter how useless! And never said anything! ANYTHING!” 

Cassandra Jones had loved the Foot Clan. She had given up almost everything for them. She had almost killed for them. She would have died for them.  

She loved them. 

“But they NEVER loved me!” 

A silence fell over the room. Cassy met Rapheal’s shocked eyes. They looked up at her with barely held back tears, and she felt her own grow misty with pain.  

“...fuck, they never loved me, did they?” She said, voice quiet and breaking.  

They had pretended to. They always told her that they cared about her, accepted her, and would always support her. They had said that they were her family.  

And that family had been something that Cassy had always wanted, always needed, and so she had fallen for the lie. Hook, line, and sinker. 

“I’m sorry,” the snapper said, voice cracking too. “Can I hug you?” 

Cassy hesitated, just for a moment. But all of her words had withered away, and it had been a long time since she had a hug. She thinks that she might need one. 

It was a very good hug. A long one too. But it was so warm and soft, and Raph’s arms held her in a way that was nothing like sparring.  

She wondered how someone could be so strong and so soft at the same time? 

But Cassy did pull back eventually, her face red from anger and embarrassment. She cleared her throat. 

“Apologizes. I lost control there.”  

The turtle just smiled at her. 

“Don’t worry. I’m glad I was able to help.”  

The turtle paused then sighed. 

“Listen,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but I’m pretty sure Pops is about halfway to adopting you. But I don’t know if it’s the best idea right now, and you probably need some time, so I’ll make sure that he doesn’t bother you with that.” 

Raph looked at her, open and honest, and Cassy wondered if his kind stare could possibly kill her. 

“But please know, if you’re ever ready to join another clan, you will always be welcome with us.” 

Cassy felt a small and half dead hope pulse in her chest. 

“I will remember that.”

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Thank you to my beta reader: @biconic-disaster25 Go read her writing, it's Great!

Beautifully drawn!

I love this game, and you should go play it.

my take on the fellas

i imagine voice of the hero and narrator appearing like shadows, while other voices like or shadows or spirits bc they may be ghosts of previous mcs

and additionally voice of the meek bc i completely forgot about him

A few days ago, I showed my sibling Nimona.

(They are genderfluid.)

While I was getting ready today, I found this:

I am one happy older brother. 🥰

Rise April Art Challenge 14: Spar

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Ao3 Link: Here

Sparing had never been fun for Donnie. It was tiring, and he would much rather be in his lab being a genius than in the dojo being a punching bag. It didn’t help that Donnie could never pull his punches correctly. He was never sure how much force to use, so he would either just barely tap his brothers or leave them with bad bruises that would last weeks. It was frustrating.

So, when Mikey had asked him to spar with him, Donnie had tried to redirect him to Leo or Raph. It wasn’t working.

“Come on, Dee!”

“Mikey, I don’t want to!”

“Just one round, please.”

“No. It’s never just one round!”

“It is this time! I promise!” Mikey’s wide eyes and puffed out lip were wearing down Donnie’s defenses, and the soft shell did not want to have to deal with a grumpy Mikey.

“Fine!” He groaned and walked towards the dojo. Mikey yelped in victory and followed behind.

Donnie picked up a wooden bo and swung it around, trying to adjust his mind into the right patterns for fighting his brother. He turned to face Mikey, only to find him kneeled down and fiddling with a boombox.

“Mikey, what are you doing?” His younger brother turned to him and smiled.

“I know you don’t like sparing, so I thought I could help make more fun.” He hit the play button on the box, and a fast electric song filled the room.

Mikey turned up the volume till it was blasting and nodded to the beat, picking up his nunchakus and lengthening the chain.  

Donnie knew this song. It was heavy on the base, so deep he could feel it in his bones. He felt spikes run up and down his arms, and his legs were tensing and relaxing to the swings of sound that the music used. He could feel the desire to move well up inside of him as the rhythmic, electric spikes pounded into the room.

“Did you go through my playlist?” He asked, but Mikey just swung his hips to the music.  

Right.

Left.  

Mike slid his way onto the mat and took a fighting stance. Donnie slowly followed suit.

The music spiked for a moment and Mikey struck. His chain whipped out, and Don brought up his bo to block it. But the move was different than normal.

Mike had swung with his whole body, spinning completely around causing his weapon to be drawn back. It was an ineffective move, revealing too many openings that Donnie could take advantage of if he wasn’t so confused. The music spiked again then fell, Mikey then swung his nunchakus one way, then the other.

Right  

Left

Another spike. His brother charged Donnie, moving to ensnare his chain around the soft shell's arm. He dogged (Spike) and Mikey swung for the other arm.

Right

Left

Donnie finally attacked back, knocking away his brother's second swing and going stab to the chest. Mike leaned back, (Spike) then leaned forward and spun his weapon. Donnie ducked before he even saw Mike go for his head, and before he even had time to question how he knew, he dropped to ground.

Spike. He swung for the legs.

Mikey jump back into a handstand and (Spike) flipped forward trying to land on Donnie back. Don rolled away and leapt to his feet and struck for Mikey’s shoulders.

Strike, Right

Strike, Left

He was doing it now.  

There was a lull in the music and the two looked at each other. Mikey had a smug and happy smile on his face. While Donnie just looked shocked.

“Why?” He asked, and Mikey shrugged.

“You like dancing. Fighting’s like dancing, all we needed was a beat.”

Donnie smiled and they both fell back in their fighting stances as the music picked up again.

-

“Come on, Dee! I wanna eat!”

“Just one more round, Mikey!”

“Uuuuhhhh. Worst idea ever!”

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Ao3 Link: Here

Please check out @zee-rambles who came up with this challenge and take a look at @rise-april-art-challenge for more submissions from other fans. Feel free to give me some feedback if I should improve on something.

Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed. The scariest movie I have ever seen.

Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed. The scariest movie I have ever seen.