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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 3 years

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New Training - Rudy

Note: I was pretty sure I might come back and flesh these trainings out a little more, but didn't have the ideas at the time, so it's a bit spacey. These happen over about 3 days.

Also just keep in mind that Rudy has a very low pain tolerance.

[Masterlist]

TW: pet whump, kidnapped whumpee, conditioning, muzzle, restraints, conditioned whumpee, dehumanization/animalization, manhandling, light mouth whump (noncon mouthwash and sharp muzzles), implied starvation, mind games, broken whumpee mindset,

When Rudy woke, the first thing he noticed was how much his head hurt. One spot in particular on the right side of his forehead was pounding. The next thing he realized was he was muzzled again. Master hadn’t put him in a muzzle in so long - what did he do wrong?

With a jolt, the memories of yesterday came back and he sat up, nearly choking himself on the chain clipped to his collar. He reached up and felt the little lock, whining in fear as he looked around. Tears sprung to his eyes as he felt around the collar and realized it wasn’t his, the bed wasn’t his, the room wasn’t Masters.

“Now you’re awake, sleepy head.”

Panicked, he tried to scurry back but the chain kept him in place. Casey rounded from the otherside of the room, grinning wildly. The whimpers and whines were so impossibly cute, better than he could have ever imagined. The boy was scared now, but he’d soon love Casey. He was so excited, so ready to get started training.

He reached own the pet the boy’s cheek - a gesture of peace and comfort, but the boy pulled away, hands up to tug at the chain. Casey scowled and slapped him.

“Ugh, you know far better than that, Archimedes.”

“No!” Rudy cried out, tugging at the end of the lead.

“Come on, Archimedes,” Casey groaned, pulling the boy back roughly. “Listen to your owner.”

The sharp tug put him off balance and Rudy tripped to the ground, getting up quickly on knees to relieve pressure from his throat. “N-No! Not, not my name, not my Master!” He glared up at the man, shaking but resolute. He knew who he belonged to.

Casey’s blood boiled.

“Stupid pet, you’ll learn better than to speak back to me like that.”

He grabbed the back of the boys’s collar, dragging him up and down the hall. Rudy tried to struggle and plant his feet, but it ended up only choking him. Casey threw him into the small room against the counter and quickly grabbed a bottle sitting on the self. With a firm grip under his jaw, he pried the boy’s mouth open and forcefully poured some of the liquid in.

“Don’t swallow it - or do, if you want to throw up,” he remarked coldly, pressing a hand against Rudy’s mouth to keep it closed. He watched the boy’s eyes get wide, recompense for his disobedience.

The liquid, whatever it was, tasted horrible and sour. It made him gag when it hit the back of his throat, bound hands coming up to try and pry the man’s away to spit it out. Casey pinned his hands down with a knee and pushed him back farther, sink counter digging painfully into his lower back.

Then it started to burn.

It hurt and burned, like it was starting to eat away at his gums and teeth. Rudy whined loudly, eyes begging Casey to let him go. The man was grinning back at him, the expression like a dagger stabbing straight at his heart. He was, he was enjoying this, enjoying seeing him so scared and in pain.

“Tastes bad, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?" He prompted, shaking him lightly. Rudy panted through his nose and nodded quickly. Please let him spit it out, please. “Bad words get punished, and this is how they’ll be punished. Do you understand, Archimedes?”

Rudy whined, but nodded again. It burned, it hurt his mouth. He wanted it out, out out out.

With a spin, Casey faced him towards the sink before he released him. Rudy quickly spit it out, nearly gagging in the process. Even then, the taste lingered in his mouth. Shaking, he curled over the sink and began to cry again as he felt the man begin to replace the muzzle. His eyes found Casey’s in the mirror for a moment as Rudy considered struggling again. Something about the darkness in his eyes made the pet reconsider.

He didn’t fight as the muzzle was closed, tighter than before. Something sharp sliced against his tongue lightly and he jerked back with a whine. Sharp? A sharp bit?! He could barely even swallow to get rid his mouth of that terrible taste. His eyes pleaded with Casey, who didn’t seem affected by the teary green look.

“There,” said Casey, petting down Rudy’s hair as if nothing happened. “Isn’t that better. Are you going to be a good boy for me now?”

Rudy didn’t know how to answer.

“Hungry, Arch?” Casey asked as he turned from the stove. The boy was at the very end of the lead hanging from the man’s waist, backed up against the wall. The pet shook his head vigorously, hard enough to make the rings on the muzzle chime against each other. Casey huffed a laugh and turned back to his saucepan.

No food then.

Rudy laid in the little dog bed, hands closed away in mittens with a softer muzzle strapped into place. Thankfully, this one didn’t have a bit, but it was still pressure around his face and head. Tears fell, again, and Rudy nuzzled his face into the padding.

He, he still belonged to Master - didn’t he?

He knew he belonged to Master because he was the one who fed him and clothed him and gave him a name and a collar and he stayed in his house. There were other human rules too, that proved he owned him. The chip in his arm and the code on his side and maybe other stuff too - but he didn’t know any of that. He had never had to worry about it.

But now he wasn’t in Master… Mason’s?... he wasn’t in that house, he wasn’t wearing that collar or being taken care of by him. Did, did that mean he belonged to Casey? Was… was it Master Casey? He didn’t know, didn’t know what to think. It was all so confusing.

He wanted to be home so incredibly badly, but didn’t Master Mason say that pets didn’t get wants? They didn’t get to decide what happened to them? They trusted their Master and their Master took care of them. He rolled over to his other side.

But no, because Master Casey (just Casey?) wasn’t following the human rules. Or maybe he was - the pet didn’t know. He couldn’t believe that stealing a pet from the park and shoving them in a trunk counted in human rules, but they weren’t for him to understand. Master Mason had taught him to not question those things and now Master Casey was doing things he didn’t understand and, and....

A sob broke out and the pet pressed farther into the bed, desperate for comfort but not knowing if he was allowed to get it. Or if he was supposed to want it? It hurt to think, everything hurt so much to try and untangle. He wanted someone - anyone - to come along and tell him what to do. To explain it to him, to make the bad feelings go away. That’s what Master Mason had done, he had made the bad feelings go away. Slowly, the pet raised up and peered over the foot of the bed to see Master Casey looking on his phone. He whimpered.

Casey looked up to see the boy absolutely distraught. He let out a sad ‘aww’ and put away his phone to go to him. The pet tired to wipe its eyes with the mittens and sniffled, leaning towards him.

“Here, let’s take these off,” he said, gently releasing the buckles and guiding the mittens away. The pet laid its head on his shoulder and Casey felt his heart lift. He pulled the smaller boy onto the bed with him and held him close. The boy settled into him, obviously accepting as Master and wanting comfort from him.

It was so satisfying.

“There you are, there you are sweetheart. See? I knew you’d figure it out. You’re gonna be such a good boy for me, I just know it. Someday, I’ll find someone to correct your chip and then you’ll really be mine.”

Rudy’s eyes flashed open from where he was nuzzled into the man’s chest. ‘Really’ be his. He wasn’t his. He did belong to Master - Casey was the thief. He tried to keep his breathing slow, to not disturb the man holding him. He need out, he needed to go home, still. Then, he noticed the man starting to breathe slowly, starting to relax. He froze, a dangerous thought growing in his head.

He was falling asleep. Rudy could get away when he was asleep.

It felt like it took so long, but eventually there was a soft snoring coming from above him. Rudy peeked up to see his eyes closed, face slack. Oh so carefully, he pulled away one arm, then another, then eased farther away. He froze again, pulse hammering in his throat, watching to see if the man would stir.

He didn’t.

Holding his breath, Rudy placed both feet on the ground and stood. The floor was mercifully carpet, not producing any noise to get him caught. He took one step, then another, until he was out of the bedroom and into the hall. It was dark, only a forgotten bathroom light to illuminate his path.

As quietly as possible, he crept down until he saw the doors again. He knew from the first time that they were both locked, and that he would have to find another way out.

That’s when he noticed the window above the sink open slightly.

Casey had kept him on a lead the entire time, never letting him get too far away. It had been pure luck he was taken off one that night, and that must have been why he left it open.

Rudy climbed up onto the sink and pushed it open slowly, hoping it wouldn’t be too loud. The fact it wasn’t excited him a bit - until he looked out.

That, that was a long way to the ground.

He gulped and realized he was still wearing the muzzle. With shaky hands, the buckles were eventually worked through and released. He had to take a very deep breath after, never having taken off his own muzzle before. It felt like he was being bad, but it was Casey that put it on him, so he must be allowed.

Laying it down on the counter, Rudy considered the window again. There was grass below, which would be better - right? He looked around for a rope or something to use to lower down, but his anxiety was starting to get the best of him. Casey could wake up at any moment, and he wouldn’t get a chance like that again.

Feeling like his last option, Rudy climbed up onto the counter and put one of his legs through. Breathing hard, he looked one last time to make sure Casey hadn’t woken up.

He put the other leg through and climbed out.

taggg: @whumpingredroses @suspicious-whumping-egg @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee

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heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

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I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

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apricitascosplay · 3 years

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Deputy Casey Reeves

Name: Casey Lawrence Reeves

Age: 27

DOB: May 27th

Gender: Cis Male

Height: 5′8″

Weight: 145lbs

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Eyes: Green

Hair: Dark Brown

Sexuality: Gay

Early Life

Casey was born and raised in Butte Montana to an extremely religious family.

He spent most of his earlier years rebelling against them and their ways, until he finally came out as gay and was ultimately disowned. This eventually led to him running away to live with an older slightly romantic partner. Somewhere down the line Casey became dependant on several vices, drugs, alcohol, sex, etc. After rock bottom and a near death overdose, Casey decided it was time to get his life back on track.

Edens Gate

Casey was not rescued by Dutch from the crash, instead he washed up the shore of the Henbane in Faith's region. This was his first encounter with bliss, it went horribly, as he has actively avoided most of his vices up until then. Faith did her best to console him, in her own way, as well as manipulate him into trusting her and the bliss. Eventually he woke up in the county jail, a few bumps and bruises, a heavy disdain for the bliss, distrust of the water, and a strong motivation to find and save Faith.

Home

Casey lives alone in a 2 bedroom apartment that is slightly too big and too lavish for one person. It's filled with the bare minimum. He owns one pet, a gold fish, named Fish. A pet was recommended by his therapist, though Casey didn't think himself capable of that kind of responsibility, so he settled on a goldfish, something simple that likely wouldn't live long. When the fish didn't immediately die, Casey eventually grew very attached, though having never given it a real name. He arguably takes better care of Fish than himself.

Relationships

Joseph: Casey is terrified of Joseph, deep down he fears that Joseph may be right. Though he struggled internally with being gay and what his family put on him religiously while growing up. He hasn't spent much time with Joseph and from what he has, he is greatly unnerved by him.

John: Unsurprisingly, Casey also dislikes John, greatly. Casey is quick to submit, surrendering without a fight, in exchange for not using bliss bullets on him. He is also quick to 'confess his sins' with John, as again, he has been raised under the belief that being gay is a bad thing. John finds they have some things in common, what with both their addiction addled pasts. Being even remotely compared to the man fills Casey with despair.

Jacob: Casey doesn't feel much for Jacob, of course he dislikes the man, but has had very little interaction with him. Jacob saw him as weak and useless. He did not go through any trials and was quickly assumes wolf/judge food.

Faith: After the initial arrest attempt, Faith was his first actual interaction with the family. He was blissed out of his mind, freaked out, lost, and she was somewhat comforting. He sees a lot of himself in Faith and desperately wants to save her. He's blinded to the poyysytuysibility that she may not actually be as innocent and brainwashed as he thinks.

Parker Cooper (My IRL partner's deputy): upon first meeting Parker, Casey had mild gay panic, which only grew over time. He finds him to be reckless and goofy, but also admires him greatly for being all around good. Parker is only Casey's second ever relationship and the only good one.

Ashe Bell (My IRL partner's deputy as well): Casey isn't particularly close with many women though Ashe is definitely his closest friend. She's hard on Casey and constantly poking fun at him, though they both know it comes from a good place. She is one of the only people he trusts unconditionally, he spends his bad days with her over anyone else.

Whitehorse: Casey see's Whitehorse as somewhat of father figure, especially since his relationship with his actual father is so bad. Whitehorse is a positive role model and influence on his life. He is also considerate of Casey's past.

Nick and Kim: at first Casey had a mild crush on Nick, but quickly moved past it in respect for him and his marriage. He holds both Nick and Kim in very high regards and would do just about anything for them, if needed. Absolutely cried upon meeting baby Carmina.

Sharky and Hurk: Casey doesn't dislike either of the two, though he moreso tolerates them due to their close friendship with Parker. That and he knows that despite the chaos and jackass-ery, they are both genuinely good men.

Grace: He holds a great amount of respect for Grace despite being intimidated by her. Though this doesn't stop him from enjoying her company, he finds they share a comfortable and compatible silence together and appreciates her efficiency with a gun.

Jess: Neither of them spend much time together, as Jess is far too brash for Casey, and he himself, is far too timid for her. There are no hard feelings between the two, they simply aren't compatible.

Adelaide: Adelaide makes Casey rather uncomfortable, what with always speaking her mind and oversharing. He likes to imagine she's what an overly supportive and nosey and somewhat embarrassing aunt would be like if he had one.

Love Life

Casey has been single and avoided intimacy with anyone since becoming sober for personal reasons. He's an expert at turning people down and not responding to advances or any attempts at flirting.

Since starting at the station, Casey quietly crushed on one of the other deputies, Parker Cooper (my irl partner's deputy). He never acted on it, until the events of fighting the cult. They get together shortly after and remain together throughout the events and the collapse.

Other Fun Stuff!

Casey does not cook, he lives mostly off of take out and leftovers. His fridge is very poorly stocked. He drinks entirely too much coffee for someone with permanent bags under their eyes. He sleeps on his couch more often than in his own bed. His apartment is scarcely furnished, having only the bare minimum. Most of his free time is spent binge watching anything and everything on netflix and other streaming sites and occasionally reading anything that looks interesting.

He is very sardonic and all around hard on himself, though he cares very little if others dislike him or mock him. He can come off as very disinterested and possibly even rude to those who don't know him. He's generally pretty easy to get along with once you get past that, though actually getting him to be social and spend time with friends outside of work is difficult.

Casey has one small, relatively crappy tattoo on his inner ankle, though he has long since stubbed many cigarettes out on it in a somewhat successful attempt at ruining it. He has a few other cigarette burn scars, some done on purpose, others from simply being careless (he's fallen asleep smoking multiples times before). He has the faded scars of track marks on both arms, though keeps his uniform sleeves rolled down enough to keep them covered.

If asked, Casey would describe his parents as somewhat akin to the American Gothic painting. He hasn't had communication with them or any other relatives since leaving home. Though he soon finds that his overly religious folks have joined Eden's Gate, seeking safety from the collapse.

Art by Myself, Minilev and Misclae!

#mine #my art #farcry #farcry 5 #far cry 5 #deputy OC #far cry deputy #OC #Original character

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lunarity2013 · 5 years

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OC Details: Lucy Stone

So, I figured it was high time I told you guys about my Hogwarts Mystery OC! I got most of these questions on here from @thewasp1995 (Go check out his OC David, btw, it’s super detailed and so cool!) I really hope you guys enjoy!

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Name: Lucille Maria Stone

DOB: October 16, 1972 (turned 12 during her first year)

Parents: Candace and Sean Stone

Siblings: Nathan Samson Stone (oldest, 9-year age difference, Ravenclaw), Casey Andrew Stone (youngest, 6-year age difference, muggle)

Nationality: Irish

Ancestry: Muggleborn

House: Hufflepuff

Height: as of Year 4, she's 5'1". She doesn't get much taller until after graduation, stopping at about 5’3” by age 25

Eyes: large, round, dark brown

Hair: waist length, light brown, wavy

Sexuality: Demisexual, hetero-leaning

Likes: reading, writing, singing, helping others, cheering her friends on, card games, charms, astronomy, ancient runes, nifflers, cats

Dislikes: being the center of attention, hurting people, fighting, doctor’s offices, spiders, clowns, being betrayed, baking (she’s bad at it)

Friends: Rowan (best friend), Ben (best friend), Penny (surrogate sister), Charlie (competitive best friend), Bill (surrogate brother), Tonks (good friend), Barnaby (crush), Tulip (good friend), Andre (friend)

Enemies: Merula (formerly), Ismelda (thinks her constant threats are a big red flag), Rakepick (evil), Snape (his decision), Nathan (depending on the game's ending)

Neutral: Skye (she helps tutor her), Talbott (more Penny’s friend, but she enjoys seeing him), Merula (after finding Nathan), Liz (Barnaby and Charlie's good friend), Murphy (he's cool)

*Badeea, Jae, Diego, and others to be decided at a later date, after I actually meet them in-game*

Love Interest: Barnaby Lee

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Strengths/Weaknesses/Hobbies:

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What’s their personal philosophy? Do they even have one?

For much of the earlier portion of her life, Lucy’s motto would be “do unto others and you would have them do unto you”. Up until about the time Rakepick shows up, and Ben’s secret-keeping, and just the all-around mess that her life becomes when the Vaults come into question, this is what she lives by. After about Year 4? It shifts a bit, focusing her own values and energy towards protecting her loved ones and innocent people from those who would cause harm, and doing whatever necessary to stop them. And after finding Nathan, she begins to include him in the latter.

How do they feel about their status and reputation as the curse-breaker in the school?

Lucy was never one for the spotlight, even as a little kid. She was content for years to simply look up to her older brother in his successes, and then later to help her parents with her baby brother, showering him with love and attention. Actively searching for the Vaults, and subsequently breaking the curses within, was only part of her plan to try and find some closure as to her brother’s disappearance (something she has convinced herself he was merely a victim of and not an active participant, to save herself grief of her brother not being what she thought). She doesn’t like having so many eyes on her, especially for something she knows is dangerous and putting herself and her friends in harm’s way. But every time she tries to back out and leave it be, she gets dragged back in.

Did they get sorted into the Hogwarts House they expected to? Did the Sorting Hat have any problems sorting them? Or did it not even have to touch their head?

Before Nathan’s disappearance, she would have loved to consider herself lucky enough to be a witch, let alone be sorted into her brother’s house. After his disappearance, however, she had mixed feelings about the idea of sharing his crest and colors, and possibly having more eyes on her than before. Her values lined up differently than his, however, and the Sorting Hat gave her an out in the form of Hufflepuff house. She was still a little disappointed by being so far from her brother’s life there, but years later, she’d swear up and down that being put in the house of fairness, honesty, and loyalty is where she truly belonged.

What’s their personal style?

Lucy wears a lot of early Autumn colors, usually. Lots of oranges, yellows, browns, and olive greens are kind of signature to her style. She typically wears things that make her feel cute and kind of kid-like, so over-large sweaters with skirts or overall shorts and dresses with print tops (floral or stripes, typically). She usually pairs both with comfortable boots and long socks. She wears her hair down most of the time, except when actively exploring the Vaults and when studying for final exams.When it gets cold, she’ll sometimes “borrow” sweaters from her friends to stay warm (usually Bill and Barnaby).

What are their coping strategies for dealing with everything (the Vaults, Jacob, etc.), if they have any?

Lucy has terrible coping mechanisms for her problems, unfortunately. She convinced herself early on that her brother had probably been killed by the Cursed Vaults while trying to help protect others from the curses, and is thus even more broken up when she eventually does find him and sees what kind of person he’s really become. She tries at the start of every year to ignore the signs of another Vault opening, just trying to live a normal, Hogwarts-student life, only to be dragged into it when people have already been attacked or hurt. After the incident with the dragon and Rakepick, she tries to close herself off, thinking it’s because they’re so close to her that her friends keep getting hurt. It doesn’t work, and her friends end up finding her and hugging her as she cries about everything that seems to go wrong with her life.

What electives do they take throughout their time at Hogwarts?

If she could, she would take every class available because it was so hard to choose just a few! In the end, however, she settled on Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Ancient Runes, because Alchemy was only for 7th years, and Arithmancy was “just magic math”. Muggle Studies was almost chosen instead of Divination, but Luc decided she wanted something a little more challenging. (She didn’t realize her patience was what would be tested lol).

Are they in any clubs or extracurricular activities? What about Quidditch?

It’s really hard to find time to do extracurriculars when you’re trying to protect people from being frozen in ice blocks or sleep-walking into an acromantula nest. She did join the Frog Choir after third year, though unfortunately drops out between 5th-6th year to focus on her studies (and the Vaults). She occasionally goes to the music club, though is not an official member. Unfortunately, Lucy may be a decent flyer, but isn’t quite cut out for Quidditch. Besides, she’d rather be in the stands (huddled and warm) while watching her friends play instead. Sometimes she’ll help Madame Pomfrey with healing students in the Hospital Wing, but the smell of the potions and medicines reminds her of the doctor’s office, so she wouldn’t ever do it for a living.

How studious are they? What kind of studying strategies do they use? Do they have any study groups with their friends?

Lucy is a stickler for good note-taking, bringing a bunch of spiral notebooks and colored gel pens and highlighters with her every year to take “proper” notes to share with her friends during their weekly study sessions. She and Rowan usually lead for most classes, though Penny takes charge for Potions, Ben (and Rowan and Bill, sometimes) lead for Charms, and Charlie and Barnaby for Care of Magical Creatures. Lucy, Rowan, and Bill sometimes help some of the younger students set up study groups as well, and often let the younger Weasley siblings and Cedric join their sessions, too. Liz doesn’t always study with them, but will when she needs to, Tulip and Tonks only show up when forced or bribed, and Skye was wrangled into coming once, but got everyone off task getting into a trash-talk showdown with Andre over the Gryffindor v. Ravenclaw game the following day; everyone else either has a different group to study with or refuses to do so entirely.

How willing are they when it comes to breaking school rules?

Lucy hates getting in trouble, since it’s being put under a spotlight in a more negative context for her. The first three years of school, she tries whatever she can to avoid breaking the rules when possible. After the Fear Vault is closed, however, she starts loosening up a little bit. She still doesn’t like to break the rules, but she’ll do it with less coercing, and gets even sneakier to get away with it.

Do they hang out with any of their friends over breaks? If so, which one(s) and what do they do?

Living all the way out in Ireland, just outside of Dublin, it’s a bit harder to get to visit her friends before she heads into London for her school shopping at the end of summer holiday. Charlie and Bill make use of the fireplace to invite her over for dinner a few times during the break, flooing her there and back without much hassle. She makes time to spend with Rowan specifically during the summer, inviting her over to spend a week or so every year, and Rowan inviting her for the same amount at her house right after. She gets an owl (a cooky brown owl that her little brother named Bernard) for her family to send her mail during the year, and uses him herself to keep in touch with the rest of her friends until September rolls around again.

After they graduate, do they fall off the map and keep a low profile? Or do they continue to exist in the public eye?

After deciding very early on that she didn’t much care for being the center of attention, once she had the opportunity to fade into obscurity, she took it. She eventually married Barnaby and moved with him to Romania, where he and Charlie work together with dragons. Lucy decides a little later on to document some of her childhood, but feeling awkward about writing her own life story down, changes the names and some of the details to instead create a fictional book series for kids. It later gets published under a pseudonym and achieves moderate success in both the muggle and magical worlds.

How does their career path differ from what they thought they’d be doing? Or does it differ at all?

It took Lucy her entire life to figure out what she wanted to do. At Hogwarts, when asked what career path she wanted to pursue, she was so shocked that she asked if she could “just go back to bed”. She decided to take whatever classes could be most broadly considered for a number of professions, and even then wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do once she left Hogwarts. She decided to handle her personal life first, cheering her friends on as they found their paths, and then going with Barnaby so he could achieve his dream. It was only later, after beginning to just write things down, that she realized how much she enjoyed doing it.

Do they have any hobbies? What about any talents or aptitudes?

She loves taking some time to just goof off with her friends, playing Gobstones or getting some Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. She’ll spend some gloomy weekends curled up in a big armchair in the library, quietly reading to herself (and later, helping Barnaby with his dyslexia). She’s also a major card shark, winning almost every muggle card game she’s ever played and often tricking her friends into playing with her and losing anything from candy to wizard cards to even money, on occasion. She’s particularly good in Charms class, as well as Astronomy and Ancient Runes.

Do they have any favorite spells?

She likes spells that can used to help others, like Episkey or Protego. She has a certain fondness for Expecto Patronum, of course. She also likes using Lumos, to light up her bed behind the curtains after a bad nightmare.

What’s one thing they did or thought as a child that they later look back and cringe about?

Long after she and Barnaby finally get together, they both end up hearing about the bets their friends placed on their relationship and how lovesick they apparently acted before asking each other out. Tonks and Tulip will sometimes act out their mutual pining at lunch or at the Three Broomsticks, leaving both of them flustered and cringing over just how insufferable they must've been before they realized their feelings were returned. If she could go back and do it over, she might almost be tempted to have just kissed Barnaby at the Celestial Ball and avoided the whole mess. Almost.

If they could travel anywhere at all in the world—money, time, and language not being an issue—where would they go and who would they take with them?

It's a tough choice between some very good options, travelling to historical landmarks across the globe with Rowan, getting tasty food in Paris with Penny, or taking her family for a nice, normal vacation to Disney in the States. But eventually, she'd probably decide on travelling the world looking for various beasts and creatures with Barnaby, and writing about their adventures.

If they’re an Animagus, how easy was becoming one for them? Were they happy with their Animagus form? Or did they want it to be something different?

Lucy studied up on being an animagus with Talbott while at Hogwarts, but couldn't bring herself to actually become one until after graduation. She remains an unregistered sparrow animagus even after Voldemort is finally defeated. She would've liked to be maybe some kind of cat, but can't deny that being so small and being able to fly are some great advantages when the second war rolls around.

Do they like what they see in the mirror?

Had it not been for her magical abilities making themselves known as she grew up, she might've gone through all of primary school unnoticed. As it was, kids often ostracized and ridiculed her for being weird and different until she finally went to Hogwarts. Between that and the guilt she carries for everyone that gets hurt by the Vaults, it takes her a very long time to come to terms with herself and her self-worth.

How good are they at taking compliments?

Lucy is pretty decent at taking compliments, so long as it's not a bunch all at one time; she gets anxious when too many people try and talk to her at once. When Barnaby compliments her, though, she gets flustered and stumbles over her words while blushing really bright, almost blocking out her freckles.

How much do they trust their friends?

Lucy trusts those she keeps close to an almost impossible degree. It can sometimes lead her to trouble, such as leaving her vulnerable to pranks by Tonks or Tulip.

Are they pretty self-reliant? Or do they like to go to their friends for help?

At first, she's much more willing to do things as a group, having her friends' backs as much as they have hers. Later on, however, she begins closing herself off, trying to take on everything herself to avoid her friends getting hurt because of her. It doesn't last very long, however, as they all work better as a team.

Who is their favorite Weasley? Or can they not choose?

Ginny and Ron are just too cute, from what little she's seen of them. Bill is like another older brother, and she loves him dearly. She and Charlie are great friends, but anything and everything becomes a competition with them, starting with a "who knows more about dragons" contest that she actually won in their 2nd year. They could almost have been considered rivals up until later on in Year 4. Percy is alright, she Guesses, but even she thinks he needs to loosen up a bit. And she spends most of her time trying to just keep the twins separated from Tonks and Tulip, if only to avoid the Apocalypse.

What’s the thing they like least about themselves?

She's a little stuffy about rules, she worries too much, her actions and choices keep putting people in danger, and FFS, she faced a DRAGON and still can't kill one measly little spider??

What’s the thing they like most about themselves?

She cares about her friends and family, she would never go out of her way to betray them or to hurt others. She takes pride in the lives she's helped and saved.

How bad is their temper? Do they tend to lash out at others or themselves?

Her temper only gets really out of hand when someone she cares about gets hurt. She can usually handle someone hurting her with nothing more than a few years, but attack the people she cares about? That'll be the last thing you ever do.

What’s their biggest regret in life, if they have any?

She blames herself for far too many things. She wishes Ben hadn't been hurt and controlled by Rakepick, she thinks she could've done more to help and support him. She feels like if she had been more observant as a kid, she might've seen something going on with Nathan and could've stopped his disappearance. She's terrified about how the two of them being so involved in the Cursed Vaults with effect Casey as he grows up, and if he'll end up inheriting their legacy or not, if it might get him killed.

What kind of first impression do they tend to leave on others?

Lucy is sweet, doe-eyed, and a little naïve. A pretty face, very smart, but very open and trusting. Would apologize to you if you poured soup into her lap. Most would either want to protect the sweet, innocent child or absolutely take advantage of her trusting and kind nature.

What is the achievement they’re most proud of?

She once managed to eat an entire tin of her mom's homemade butter cookies without vomiting (her mom isn't a very good cook, and definitely can't bake). But now she's expected to eat at least some every time her mom bakes them when she's home. (Just another advantage to being away at a boarding school most of the year).

Do they like having photos taken of themselves?

She's a little camera shy, depending on who she's with; any groups larger than maybe 5 and she'll try to duck around and take the picture herself instead. But small groups, she can handle it. And she'll take any photo with Tonks, so long as she changes something about her appearance to take the main attention off of her.

What’s one big way that your MC differs from the in-game canon?

Lucy does not like searching for the Vaults. She would have been content with maybe a few of his journals and an official, personal explanation from Dumbledore. Sh didn't need this. She doesn't want to be the one fixing this, but apparently no one else knows how or cares to try, so she feels responsible. She's also not in the same house as her brother.

If they’re an Animagus, why did you choose the form for them that you did?

Lucy becomes an animagus much later than in canon. She becomes one right before the 2nd war, in order to evade detection. She becomes a little sparrow bird, small and common enough to escape notice. I chose it because of its relation to the second Fable game, whose protagonist is named "Sparrow".

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So, I hope ya’ll enjoyed! Let me know if any of you have any more questions!

(Edit: I am so sorry about the picture formatting, I know its hideous, but I have somehow lost the ability to use my mobile app to fix it (no fucking signal, my ass) but I promise I will try again tomorrow, when I am far away from the lack of signal at my house.)

#hphm #hphm mc #hphm oc #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery oc #jacob's sibling #oc details

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undercoverwizardninjaturtle · 5 years

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Golden Boy Part 1: A TMNT 2003 FANFICTION

Summary: Things haven't been easy since Leo left, a once solid brotherhood built on trust and dependency is close to ruin, but can they save it in time? Or is it irrepairable now?

Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2003

Rating: T with mild Violence

Word Count: 2161

a/n I wrote this YEARS ago, so the writing style isn’t up to date, but I wanted to see how it would do on here

Don sat at his computer, he only had few more minutes before his shift started and he already dreaded it. He hated his job; it wasn't exactly a secret, as he tried to hide it. Milky told him many times he should quit his job. But he couldn't, they needed the money. And it was an excuse to stay up late, he didn't need it but it was better than sitting up in a chair and waiting for Raph to come home. And a excuse to drink lots of coffee. Speaking of which, he glanced over from his desk to the kitchen where his heavenous elixir maker sat on the counter. Maybe he could get a cup going before-

ON cue he heard the door slide open, the sound of grunting and groaning followed by a large yawn. The careless cracking of a motorcycle helmet being tossed across concrete floor.

So much for coffee

Now was time for his least favorite part of the night

Donnie quickly turned away from the kitchen to lean back in his seat, even though he didn’t acting like he hadn’t been waiting up till 5 in the morning for his oldest brother. But it helped him feel less ‘motherly, "Hey Raph, where've you been?"

There wasn't an answer, Don turned to see Raph leaning against the fridge with his shoulder and arms crossed and facing Don. If Donnie didn’t know any better, he’d think that Raph was trying to emulate a bad boy from the 50’s. His eyes shifted over to him with barely a care, "Shouldn't the Golden Boy be in bed?"

Ah, Golden Boy. One of the less the affectionate nick-names Raph gave him. It was just one of the many ways Raph chose to show his anger nowadays. Don wished he could say that it was everyone he was treating like this, but it wasn't. Sure Raph wasn't tolerable to Mikey anymore either but it seemed that Raph was going out of his way just to tick Donnie off

Unfortunately, this time had paid off

"I'm getting ready to start my shift. I asked where you've been Raph."

The hiss of carbonation filled the air and a snort that clearly marked his older brother’s amusement. But Don took a deep breath, turning back to his computer to type on the keys, though any numbskull could see his screen was still home the home window. Therefore, his typing was obsolete, “I’m just asking there’s no law against it.”

“Whatever.” The nonrelated response that indicated Raph had not heard a word he had said. But merely knew Donnie HAD been talking but decided his words weren’t worth the energy to listen to. That and the closing of the fridge followed by fading footsteps

Donnie wanted nothing more than to let him go,

But that’s not what Leo had asked of him when he had designated Donnie leader.

He spun out of his seat just as Raph reached the stairs, “Raph, please. You’re worrying everybody. Not even Casey knows where you’ve been going, remember him? Your best friend? “And by the third step he had reached the bottom of his stairs, “Raph come-on, and talk to me. I don’t care where you’ve been going but I don’t’ want you going alone. I’ll go, I can help. Anything is better than staying up till sunrise worried to death about you, -“but his brother had already climbed the stairs, “Come on bro, please?!” he reached the second floor. For such a muscle bounded idiot he was fast (and deploying excellent ignoring abilities). The door to Raph’s room slowly closing after him, Don’s hand shot into the darkness, grabbing a hold of a muscle bound arm-

Pain exploded in the center of Don’s face, and the waves of copper filled his mouth. He stumbled back away from the darkened room as his shell hit the railing that kept the family from falling to the living room (which he was never more grateful for). His arm hooked up over the rail to keep from hitting the floor altogether. His free hand smothering the blood now pouring out of his mouth and the pain radiating from his head- his vision was filled with painful lights that indicated probable damage to his skull-

“DON!” Oh now Raph was concerned. If the sizzling spilled soda running over his feet was anything to go by. A hand grabbed his shoulder, “Shit shit are you ok?! I’m sorry, shit; I didn’t know it was you. Ok so I knew it was you I just reacted-“

‘Just reacted’? Well, Raph’s ‘Just reaction’ left Donnie with an aching head and a hand full of blood. He pulled the hand away from his face long enough to check- oh yup that was a lot of blood.

“Shit, shit shit.” Couldn’t Raph say anything else? “Stay here I’m going to get the first aid kit.” He wanted to tell Raph not to bother, but with the sound of fading running steps he knew there was no point.

And he also knew there was no point in talking.

With his arm still hooked around the railing, he slowly pulled his legs underneath him. Forcing his balance to climb back up to his feet, he leaned over the railing for a moment, struggling with the pounding through his head.

He needed to get to work

One foot in front of the other, the railing only went one way and he knew he’d hit the steps eventually

His shift started in 5 minutes

His family needed that money…

Don’s shoulder bumped into the support beam that marked the end of the railing. Why the hell was he so dizzy? The steps felt like butter beneath his feet, but somehow he managed not to slip down them and wake everyone in the lair. Donnie’s hands gripped the railing for all they were worth (and since he had put them in, he knew what they were worth). His feet finally hit the ground floor. Great, now to get to his desk, the sound of rushing footsteps filled the air from the open hallway again. Sounds like Raph had found the ‘2nd floor’ med kit finally.

“Don?! Donnie where’d you go!?” Don could only roll his eyes, moving toward the back of the stairs, “Oh Dam there you are!” The footsteps hit the stairway. A hand slammed against his shell. But Don’s years of training sent him putting his weight forward and the sound of fingernails barely scraping his shell, “Don,”

“Go ‘way.” Why were his words slurring so hard? He couldn’t work like that, but the alternative was talking to Raph and giving him attention.

He’d prefer to sound like a drunk.

“I have the med kit, just look at me so I can look at your head.”

What was the point? Donnie turned back to the screen his fingers moving with memory to log in his information. 2 minutes before his shift started, and he got penalized if he logged in late. He couldn’t afford that. Winter was coming up, and the lair needed supplies to be prepped for the cold. Especially for Splinter-

A hand gripped his jaw tightly, a slight tug said the ‘medic’ (Donnie wasn’t sure when they had switched roles) wanted his attention, “Dam it Don just look at me so I can fix your head. I brought your inhaler down, do you need it? I know it’s been a while-“

Though it ached his head to do so, he yanked his jaw free and leaned forward. Dam it, why was the screen so blurry-

“D-Dam it Don!” there was that voice again, grating the back of his brain. Adding to the already painful pulse going through it, “Dam it Don, let me help you.”

Help

Help?

A faint laugh escaped lazily and dropped from his lips.

“What’s so funny?!” Donnie wasn’t sure how Raph pulled off ‘angry’ and ‘concerned’ at the same time without rupturing his tiny brain, “I didn’t mean to hit you I just reacted, I was half asleep.” oh really? He wasn’t half asleep when he came in, “Just say something, PLEASE. I’ll listen, I swear’ I will. Just tell me what’s going on, tell me you forgive me. Tell me you’re not mad.”

And there it was.

It was what was always expected of him

Everyone around him expected the same thing

I’m sorry Don

I didn’t mean to break it bro

It was an accident

Can you fix it?

You know I need my PlayStation! Please please! It won’t take long!

I know you’re busy, but I need this fixed before our next practice? It’s important

Common Don please help, please fix it

It’s important! You can spare your ‘precious time for us mortals

Donnie fix it!

I”m sorry Don!

Come ‘on get over it

GET OVER IT DONNIE

GET OVER IT!

“Go Away.” Donnie wasn’t sure when he had even spoken, but a cold silence was cast in the room, the hand that had been trying to yank his head in direction of his ‘ big brother’ slid off slowly. It was replaced by a grip gentler grip to his shoulder. Don could just feel the quiver of his brother’s fingers struggling whether or not to squeeze the muscles. Don knew this ‘Raph’. Torn between his own anger, confused by it to a fault.

Donnie knew how to diffuse him.

But the problem was he didn’t care.

Slowly he turned his head back; looking to the older brother he had so depended on. Donnie could remember the night Leonardo had left. That night he had been so taken by panic, the thought of all the responsibility weighing down on him. The thought of taking on two pivotal roles in the family at the same time, he almost hadn’t’ been surprised that he had an asthma attack. But Raph had been there he had come back from Casey and Aprils just in time. The only one to see him in such a torn state, he had gotten Don’s inhaler and helped him clam down, then had stayed up for hours talking to him. A lot of the night was a blur of oxygen deprivation, breathing into paper bags, and a hand rubbing his shoulder. Most of the words were lost with the expansion of time that followed. But Donnie could remember four words that Raph had spoken that night. Being pulled into a tight brotherly hug, they had stayed with him, every night since then when Raph kept his bitter tone and attitude, when he came home drunk and needed someone to get him to his own bed.

“I’m here for you.”

A hand ran back to his shoulder, a small whisper reaching him in a small act of desperation, “Bro-“

“GO. AWAY.” Donnie’s head swerved back over to his brother, it didn’t help the ache was crawling down his spine and neck. An unbearable throb that was spreading like the bubonic plague in the middle ages.

Amber eyes bore at him; desperation lined their normally angry spark that consumed them every day. They begged for forgiveness, they DEMANDED his forgiveness. They wanted him to say he didn’t care about the about the physical attack on his body, or the blood he still felt running down his face.

But Donnie didn’t care.

Slowly the anguish in his eyes began to fade, a glimmer following consuming them slowly. His lips curling and a small vibrations running across his throat. Blaze consuming his eyes and the sound of popping bones in a fist he had previously dented Donnie’s face. Don’s head turned back to the monitor, picking up the headpiece to put in place as he pressed a button on the side, putting him on duty and back to work. And also indicating the end of their conversation.

Something emerald green shot by his head, one of his monitors exploded into a frenzy of spark and lights underneath an angry growl. A thick voice reaching his ear

“Just go and die already.”

Heavy steps stomped away. Retreating up the stairs and disappearing behind a slamming door.

The Lair descended back into silence and the air lifted up from the missing tension. Don could feel the buttons of his keyboard move ever so gently under shaking fingers. He drew away long enough to rub his scalp, rubbing his mouth on the back of his hand to drain the rest of the blood, but a faint trickle indicated the still fresh flow. His limbs heavy from sudden exhaustion

Maybe he could lay his head down for a moment

Just for a moment

Just to close his eyes.

Just before he started his shift….

Just before life took anything else from him

Just a break from being the “Golden Boy”

Here’s the rest that i’ve updated so far if you want to read the https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10466046/1/Golden-Boy

#Golden Boy #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003 #tmnt 2003 #fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003 #raph #raph 2k3 #hurt

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transtrendhumanity · 6 years

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hello, its roll call time once again. i think today is callon and casey. i (casey) have been at front a lot lately? i guess ive half-usurped nine as our social butterfly, but ze still fronts to talk about fabric & cosplay a lot.

let’s start with hir, since we’re thinking about it. nine is all fluffed up and talking about. nubuck i think. corian is not following very well and also doesn’t care, but is tolerating it admirably. elster seems somewhat more engaged in the topic. oh nine is going off about how secretary birds should not be a person’s first thought for fancy birds, too. ze has Opinions.

ailecent is on the roof in an exceptionally dragonoid form, today. kestrel is keeping aer company. ae’s got Some Thoughts about kaito, but it’s kind of hard to decipher them from here.

nika i think? is in the attic of the main house? ceren and ethan are there too, they’re having some Gay Hours. riley is watching but feeling a bit cautious about participating. nessie is kind of shit-talking the gays to riley, but i dont know that she means it.

haze is still holding a sword.

remm’s door is closed today, but i dont sense any unpleasantness from vir.

instead of heading downstairs, i jump to the treehouse.

yacinthe and kitt are fused in a kind of gem-fusion way, where they still each have a sense of self, but they’re inhabiting one body. a white wolf, shifting between feral and anthro states. it seems like yacinthe enjoys the power of it. we’re not sure if this development means that kitt will be an active part of yacinthe’s new persona, or that kitt is kind of letting go, in general. no i think e’s angry about that idea, so i guess they’ll be equally active, or at least. both active, even if not equally. ce has five eyes, in this form, all of them kind of wild.

nero seems cautious about this development, maybe a bit more nervous than i’d expect, but i guess he does have Trauma. vite and kayden are pretty excited about it. vite literally climbing up yacinthe’s massive furry body and getting playfully thrown down onto the beanbag chairs. kei is watching, maybe more interested than they’d normally let on. honestly, they’ve been super quiet lately and in general, so i wouldn’t be overly surprised if they fold into kayden or someone else, eventually.

it’s sort of strange to think it, but for some reason right now is a good time for system downsizing, even just a little bit. becoming more manageable. not leaving, but folding down a bit.

although, while we say that, cyrren is still back from the dead, hanging out in the kitchen with gabbi. amelia is playing with a like, desk toy, the kind with water and i think, rings that you can propel around? floret is laughing at mer attempts to get it right. perien is chatting with cyrren. gabbi decides to bring fancy little cookies upstairs to the attic. rayn swims in loops until it catches my attention. it seems very pleased when we wave.

nitexx may or may not be around.

echo is sitting on the coffee table, very attentively watching amelia’s game. cilla is stretched out in a sunny spot on the floor near echo’s chair, mostly asleep.

in the side room, vex is drawing. jace is working on something with fancy papers. venic has opened up a closet in the back room, which we had not known existed, and is having a minor existential crisis about what kye actually wants to wear. vaccine, watching, seems pretty unimpressed with the frivolousness of the whole thing.

trysten bursts into gay hours in the attic with a flourish. sier and nika hug and kiss each others cheeks.

downstairs again, raliel comes in as we’re leaving, and pulls up ethan’s chair next to cyrren’s new stool.

in the mansion... kazen is sleeping, sitting against the wall in the upstairs hallway. drohen tells us that they offered him an actual bedroom several times, but he chose to refrain from setting up his own space.

aren is still busy in his workspace, but is paying more attention to overall goings on now.

micah is talking about some manner of blue-collar crime downstairs. darion seems familiar with the topic, which micah is a bit annoyed about, since they expected people to be impressed. tobias is decidedly not impressed with either of them.

jochen is in the library, reading. there’s a second reading nook beside elster’s, which is more in keeping with the overall style of azdien’s mansion. azdien is also in the library, browsing books but also kind of keeping an eye on jochen.

jody.. is also in the dining room, keeping up with the conversation but not divulging much of their own opinions on the matter.

oh, kita either was in the treehouse the whole time or has just recently arrived there. she’s in a small fox form, playing with yacinthe and vite. it seems like they might make quite a mess.

tyto is back in corian’s basement, surprisingly, working on some kind of spell in eir old workspace.

skye checks in with aloe three times, making sure that ae will be ok if fae goes down to main headspace and joins gay hours with nika and the rest.

aloe is a little nervous to see faer go, but only because gail is kind of hovering outside the window. it seems like gail’s basement has been fully installed now, though it might be more accurate to call it a cave than a cellar.

kisoquine is. in xyr room, slicing an apple with xyr claws, and the apple is bleeding. for some reason. little clowny things.

vyrn is pacing in xyr own room, and seems a bit agitated.

i think that’s everyone? oh uhhh since it’s been mostly casey doing the tour. callon actually went to nap beside jace, at some point. good for em.

#[roll call]

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petlover18-blog1 · 6 years

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20 Crazy Details About The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' Bodies

New Post has been published on https://www.petlovers.shovelnews.com/20-crazy-details-about-the-teenage-mutant-ninja-turtles-bodies/

20 Crazy Details About The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' Bodies

by David I Sandhu

– on Aug 17, 2018

in Lists

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles have been a staple of pop culture for over three decades. With 6 movies, 6 TV shows, 6 comic series, over 50 video games, and 2 concert tours to date, the Turtles have been extremely successful and still remain popular to this day.

The history of the Turtles started back in 1984, when Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird where brainstorming while eating pizza and watching television. They came up with a crazy idea of bipedal turtles that were masters of the martial arts.

Taking inspiration from Frank Miller, Eastman and Laird self-published a one-off issue parodying, Daredevil, The New Mutants, Cerberus, and Ronin. Little did they realize that they’re off the cuff creation would go on to become the most significant cultural phenomenon to ever involve turtles.

They began to publish a monthly comic with Mirage Comics, but would eventually move to Image Comics, Archie Comics, and IDW Publishing.

The Archie version of the Turtles would go on to inspire the Turtle‘s first cartoon, which became a major hit in the ’80s and ’90s. This led to 3 movies, as well as a concert and a horrifying Christmas special that has been forgotten by most fans.

With so many different creators taking the time to work on the Turtles, there have been many interpretations. Their history, personalities, and abilities have changed countless times.

However, somethings never changed: Leonardo leads, Donatello does machines (that’s a fact, Jack), Raphael is cool but crude (gimme a break), Michelangelo is a party dude (Party).

With that said, here are the 20 Crazy Details About The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ Bodies.

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20 The Ooze That Created Them May Have Blinded Daredevil

The history of the Turtles has changed over time, and thus the infamous ooze that transformed them into warriors and gave them their powers has also been updated a number of times.

In its original incarnation, the mutagen ooze was created by a benevolent race of aliens known as the Utroms.

In other versions, it was a man-made creation that was developed by various organizations. While occasionally it was purposefully made, other times it was created by accident and was never intended to be used on living creatures.

In any case, the green ooze, in some form or another, came in contact with four baby turtles and transformed them into the mean, green fighting machines.

Taking inspiration from Frank Miller’s Daredevil run, Eastman has alluded to the idea that the ooze that created the Turtles is the same substance that blinded Matt Murdock, the Daredevil.

19 Their Shells are bulletproof

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Some versions of the Turtles have small slim shells that minimize their cumbersome nature, while other versions see the Turtles with shells that are huge and bulky.

In the 2014 Michael Bay produced movie, their shells are perhaps the largest we have seen.

While size of their shells is integral to their new design, they also serve a particular purpose: they are bulletproof.

In the movie, Turtles’ shells are nuch denser and harder than normal shells.

Since they weren’t aware of how tough their shells were, at first the Turtles believed that a shot fired at their backs would end their lives. However, they soon learned, along with their assailants, that their shells were strong enough to withstand even bullets.

18 Leonardo Can Heal Himself And Others

Leonardo was always the most mature Turtle. He took Splinter’s lessons and knowledge more seriously and internalized them in away that the others could not or would not.

Splinter recognized this and saw him as a leader of the group. Because of this, he decided to teach Leo how to heal himself and others through the spiritual powers of Ninjutsu.

This is perhaps the closest thing to a superpower that any of the Turtles possess.

Leo is able to heal himself and others from physical injuries, diseases, and even poison.

While battling the estranged daughter of Splinter, Karai, Leo was poisoned with incurable venom. However, through the power of Ninjutsu, Leo was able to instantly cure himself of her poison and defeat her.

17 Raphael And Donatello Were Once Vampires

In the 2012 series, the gang came across many different challenges. One of the most interesting villains that they faced was Dracula.

In fact, they face off against most of the Universal Monsters. Werewolves, mummies and Frankenstein’s monster all take on the Turtles as Dracula attempts to conquer New York City.

In the course of bringing order to the Big Apple, Donnie and Raph are biten and become vampires.

This brings on a new transformation, as the two Turtles grow fangs and have a thirst for blood.

This is perhaps another example of how the Turtles are perhaps more human than they are turtle, since normal turtles do not have teeth. The Ninja Turtles already had teeth and then grew vampire fangs.

16 They Can Duck Into Their Shells

Turtles have the unique ability of hiding in their shell. Because they walk on all four legsand have a large shell, their skeletal structure is different from most animals.

Their spine runs along the top of the shell, which allows them to have a very long neck that can retract into the body. Their body is set up to support its weight differently than bipedal beings.

The Ninja Turtles have displayed this same ability, demonstrating that they must have a similar skeletal structure.

However, this would make it difficult for them to move, as the weight of their body, at least while standing upright, would not be supported by a curved spine.

This would suggest that they have a far more complex skeletal structure than a human or turtle.

15 Donatello Became Cyborg When His Body Was Destroyed

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In the Image Comic series, Donatello went through some significant changes. After a battle against cyborgs, Donnie was shot and dropped out of a helicopter.

With his body significantly damaged, Donnie’s body merged with one of the cyborgs.

Because of this, there was a risk that Donnie could losing his mind and its control to the CPU in his brain.

After this, there were some changes to his personality, as he became more aggressive. There are several instances in which he has dispatched his enemies without feeling any remorse.

This has also made Donnie one of the more powerful of the Turtles, as he now had permanent armor and blasters that he could use.

14 They are Connected To The Spiritual Plane

On several occasions, the Turtles have had to mediate and connect to the spiritual plane. Whether this was to communicate with Splinter or to face their inner demons, the Turtles have always been able to tap into the other realm.

With the help of Splinter, these rambunctious teens have been able to create a strong connection to the other side.

This i has come in handy when they need guidance but were unable to reach their mentor.

When Splinter was missing, the Turtles stayed at a cabin with April O’Neil and Casey Jones. While there, Leonardo suggested that they mediate for several days in the forest to connect with Splinter and find him.

Thankfully, they were able to successfully connect with him. He then sent them on separate journeys to conquer their own personal challenges and face spiritual enemies.

The Turtles succeed and became stronger both in body and in mind because of this.

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13 They May Be Warm Blooded

While this is more a fan theory, there is a lot of evidence to back it up. If the Turtles were still cold blooded, they would behave differently than what we have seen.

For instance, in numerous settings, we have seen condensed warm air exhaled from the Turtles. This only occurs with warm blooded animals because their internal heat source a lot warmer than the outside temperature.

If they were cold blooded, then their body temperature wouldn’t be much higher than their surroundings.

They use blankets instead of heating beds, they shiver, and they sweat. Sweat can only be formed by warm blooded mammals, which would mean that the turtles physiology is far more complex than we thought.

12 Leonardo Lost A Hand

During the 3rd volume of the comics, TMNT was bought by Image Comics. This 3rd volume is no longer considered canon, however, as it deviated from the previous stories and made significant changes to the main characters.

One of these changes involved Leonardo losing his left hand during a fight with King Komodo, a mutated Komodo dragon.

Although the Turtles have incredible healing abilities, they are incapable of growing new limbs.

However, even with the loss of his hand,and the immense pain he was in, Leonardo was not significantly deterred in battle, demonstrating his high pain tolerance.

For a time, Leo had a prosthetic hand that was given to him by Donatello, but ultimately he decided to stop using it.

Instead, he prefers to use a steal cap with a retractable blade.

11 They Are Red-eared Sliders

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Before the ooze created the most famous green, pizza-eating ninjas, they were just pet turtles.

To be more specific, they were Red-eared Sliders. While the origin of the Turtles has changed a lot over the last few decades, this is one of the only elements that has remained the same in all incarnations of the Ninja Turtles.

Red-eared Sliders are the most popular pet turtles in the U.S., so it would make sense that the Turtles are the same breed, since they were originally pets.

After the’ 90s cartoon, the demand for pet turtles grew.

However, as the popularity of the show diminished, many of the pet turtles where abandoned by their former owners.

In London, many of these pets were left at London Park and, over the years, have grown to be the size of a dinner plate. This caused a major issue since these turtles began to harm the local ducks.

10 They Are Extremely Fast

Turtles are always depicted as being slow creatures. Though most owners of Red-eared Sliders know that theses clunky little reptiles can actually move pretty quickly.

However, the Turtles did not just grow large and maintain their natural abilities when the ooze transformed them – their abilities were enhanced.

This means that the Turtles now became much faster than normal turtles.

For bipedal creatures, they are incredibly fast and agile. This proves helpful in battle and when they must race to get the last slice of pizza.

It is even more impressive when you consider how heavy their shells must be.

They are fast enough to dodge lasers and catch up with moving cars, and thus they certainly dismantle the stereotype of being slow-moving creatures.

Plus, they can dance like no other.

9 They’ve Used Mutastones to transform and become more powerful

In perhaps the strangest iteration of the Turtles, Mutant Turtles: Superman Legend was a short-lived Japanese cartoon that featured the Turtles with new powers.

After being summoned by the spirit of light, Kris Mu, they were given special crystals called Mutastones.

These stones allowed each Turtle to transform into a super Power Ranger-like fighter for three minutes.

They were taller, sleeker, and supposedly more powerful.

However, if they needed more power, they could activate Saint Mutation. This, like a Megazord, combines all four Turtles in to one super turtle called Saint Mutant, a silver and blue like turtle with metallic wings.

The show only lasted for two episodes but they certainly offer Turtle fans a lot of new content. It is the most unique interpretation in the entire Turtle canon.

8 They’ve Turned Into Mutant Beasts

The idea of further mutation has been teased here and there. We have seen little iterations, but it was the classic ’80s/’90s show that tried to explore the second and final stage of the Turtles’ mutation.

While fighting Lord Dregg, an alien overlord created for the cartoon, the Turtles begin to experience a change in their mutation.

At random, they begin turn into giant, beast-like turtles with lighter skin and pointy claws. In fact, they actually resemble the behemoth in Michael Bay’s Ninja Turtles movie.

Their mind remains the same but they become far stronger and clumsier than their normal form.

With Splinter’s help, they are able to tame their inner mutation and bury it away after a few episodes.

7 They Are Masters Of Stealth

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To be a ninja, one needs to be able to blend into their surroundings and become as stealthy as possible.

This has to be difficult for giant green turtles adorned with bright colored bandanas. However, somehow the Turtles can become virtually invisible in ways that would seem impossible.

In The Secret of the Ooze, Raph helps Kato join the Foot Clan at an open try-out in broad daylight. One of the challenges is to remove as many bells as he can in 10 seconds from a mannequin without making any sounds, shrouded in smoke.

While this seems like a difficult task, as soon as the smoke is covering them, Raph is able to sneak into the room, remove every singe bell, deliver it to Kato, and sneak back out.

6 They Can Play The Guitar

In the ’90s, the Ninja Turtles were doing a lot of crazy things. Vanilla Ice showed us that they could dance and the 1994 Christmas Special showed us that they could sing reggae inspired Christmas songs.

However, the craziest thing to come out of the ’90s was the Coming Out of Their Shells Tour, where jean vest-wearing Ninja Turtles sang songs and shredded their guitars for audiences around the country.

Complete with a power ballad sung by a wise and contemplative Splinter, the Turtles rocked the stage.

However, perhaps the strangest part was that the Turtles where able to play guitar at all.

Guitar chords are played with three to four fingers, but the Turtles only have three fingers on each hand.

5 They’re Resistant To Cold

When turtles get cold, their metabolism slows down. Reptiles do not have the ability to regulate their body heat, so their body’s temperature matches the environment that they’re in.

When in freezing temperatures, turtles will slow down and hibernate until it warms up. Turtles can even freeze if they’re in frozen water and thaw out later.

However, the Ninja Turtles have been shown to wear clothing to keep them warm.

When it’s cold, they’re able to run around and fight. None of that is indicative of how a turtle should behave in cooler temperatures.

The mutation has allowed the Turtles to regulate body heat and withstand the cold to prevent them from hibernating.

4 They’re Extremely Agile

The Turtles have a lot of layers, and what stands out to most are their different and distinctive personalities.

However, every single one of them has been practicing and mastering a skill set in the martial arts since they could walk.

The Turtles are highly skilled individuals and are thus masters in their field.

Consequently, their bodies are toned and conditioned well beyond the abilities of an average man or turtle.

Despite their awkward-looking appearance, the Turtles are quite agile and acrobatic, which allows them to be as effective and as mobile as possible in their battles.

3 Half Of Raphael’s Face Was Blown Off

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When Archie Comics took over TMNT in the ’80s, readers got a glimpse into Raph’s future, as they soon noticed that his left eye was missing.

During a time traveling adventure, the Turtles discover that future Raph lost his eye during a fight with Shredder, Verminator X, and Armaggon.

However, it is later revealed that in every possible future, Raph ends up losing his eye.

In the Image Comics run, Raph unfortunately had an even worse fate. While messing with a defeated cyborg, half of Raph’s face was blown off.

For a time, he wore Casey Jones’ mask to cover his disfigurement. However, he later settled on wearing an eye patch.

2 They Can Reproduce

After all the mutations that the Turtles have gone through, it seems most logical that they should not be able to reproduce, as the ooze probably made them infertile.

We’ve also never seen a direct offspring of any of the Turtles.

However, towards the end of TMNT’s Mirage Comics run, Michelangelo becomes romantically involved with Seri, a Styracondon princess.

The Styracodons are Dinosaur-like alien species from the plant Nurgostu.

After their relationship became more intimate, Seri presented Michelangelo with some eggs, claiming that they are their children.

The fate of the eggs and Seri and Michelangelo’s relationship has not been resolved yet, as volume 4 of the series has not been written.

However, if it is revealed that the eggs do hatch and that the children survive, then this will be the first example of the Turtles having any offspring.

1 They Eat A Lot Of Food

It always seems like the Turtles are eating. They are constantly awaiting their next pizza order and munching on various snacks.

On average, a Red-eared Slider can go up to 3 days without food. They do not need a lot of food to survive, but their lives are predominately slow and not very active.

A clear difference between other Red-eared Sliders and the Turtles is that the Turtles are extremely active.

If they are not fighting Shredder or Krang, they are practicing their Ninjutsu.

Considering their size, lifestyle, and the fact that they are teenagers, they require a lot of food to provide them with enough energy to fight.

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Can you think of any other interesting facts about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles‘ bodies? Sound off in the comments!

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