#took me ages to figure out why Leo wasn’t wearing glasses and then drawing this i was like oh shell his mask is gone

[skylarmoon71]

Donatello x Reader- Fanfiction Oneshot. (TMNT 2014-2016)

"Guys look what I invented!" Raph sighed when he saw you walking on the ceiling with your newest invention.

"She's at it again." he spoke, drawing in the attention of his other brothers. Donatello's eyes widened in amazement. "No way, you made gravity defying boots. "

You grinned from your upside down position, showing him a thumbs up. The beeping on your shoes made your smile drop. "Uh oh." the light changed from blue to red and you were now falling head first. 

"AHHHH!!!" 

Donatello rushed over, doing a flip and catching you mid air. His feet landed on the ground with a harsh thud, and you released a breath, holding unto him. "A-Are you alright!" he was surveying your body. All in all you seemed fine. You stared at him, admiring the beauty of his green eyes.

"I-I'm okay." your reply was said a bit shakily. Whether from the fall, or your slowly increasing heart beat, you couldn't tell. Donatello placed you on your feet, and Leonardo walked over, already preparing a speech. You knew that look on his face, he was about to scold you for your recklessness.

"(Y/N), you need to be careful. You could have gotten really hurt. What if we hadn't come in." You knew he was just concerned. Your head lowered. "I'm sorry Leo, I'll be careful next time." He raised his hand, patting you on the head softly. "It is pretty cool though." you looked up with a wide smile, fist pumping. Michelangelo was at your side in seconds, ready with an onslaught of questions. One of which probably included if he could borrow your boots.

Meeting the turtles was the best thing that happened to you. It was a real eye opener, that was for sure. You were an inventor at heart, testing out one of your creations. At the time you were just studying constellations and solar patterns. One night your panels picked up something strange. Whatever it was had a major energy source because it shorted your computer, as well as Donatello's equipment.

They'd been out on patrol while you were on the roof. And just ended up running into you. If your stuff hadn't overloaded Donnie's, they probably wouldn't have stopped to investigate. That was the first time you'd ever seen something so incredible. Of course when you saw them you fainted, from what you heard April had a similar reaction. But after that, when you came to, your curiosity got the better of you.

The fact that four huge mutant turtles were standing right in front of you seemed like the last thing you cared about. You just started asking questions. Like a scientist, you were inquisitive by nature. It wasn't long after that, you became quick friends with the turtles.

You and Donatello were especially close. He was just like you, always building and altering gear and technology, utilizing it to its maximum capacity. You were always helping him upgrade his inventions, and he'd give you ideas to create others to help the turtles protect the city. 

Being able to explore your interest with someone who loved technology just as much as you did was all you could really ask for. So whenever you weren't working, you were down in the lair, testing out your machinery. Your boots were something you'd been working on for weeks. Unfortunately it still needed a bit of tweaking, because the battery didn't retain as much power as you hoped.

"As soon as I get it up to speed I'll lend it to you Mikey." That was all he needed to hear.

"Boyah!! I got first dibs guys!" he was already running off cheering. You pulled the boots off, studying it. "I may have to alter the size as well."

"So how was patrol?" You asked surveying your equipment.

"Nothing we couldn't handle." Raph said boastful, biting down on the toothpick at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure. Well while you guys were gone I ordered pizza." That was all you needed to say because pretty soon they were all headed to the other room to devour their favorite food. You laughed at how quickly the room cleared. Splinter walked out, his tail swishing slowly behind him.

"(Y/N), it's always nice to have you with us. However I'd advised against indulging my sons in that unhealthy food." He probably regretted ever introducing them to it, because it seemed like that was all they ever ate.

"Even if I didn't you know they'll still get their hands on some." he sighed.

"I suppose you're right." He looked at you like there was something else he needed to say.

"Is there something wrong?" He shook his head, a smile gracing his lips.

"I'm just very grateful for you." the statement caught you by surprise.

"T-Thank you Master Splinter." It really did mean a lot to you that he thought so.

"I should be the one thanking you. Not many people are willing to accept my sons. They are extraordinary, but society has a very focused view on what is right and wrong. This world could use more people like you and Ms. O' Neil." you could understand where he was coming from.

"I know what you mean. Growing up I dealt with my fair share of ridicule. I guess to the other kids I was always just weird. " At a young age you'd seen things different. While kids were playing on slides and swings, you were solving mind puzzles and complex math sums. Technology was easier for you to figure out that people.

You glanced at the turtles eating happily from the other room talking among themselves. Your gaze lingered on the purple clad one maybe a little longer than necessary. When you realized you turned back to Splinter, who was wearing a suspicious smile.

"I'll leave you to it then." and with that he was walking away, hands behind his back.

"Hmmm?" 

Sometimes you wished you could read his mind.

"Hey (Y/N), come and get a slice before they devour all." Donatello's words made you run over.

"Save some for me!" You spent a while wrestling to get a slice. Dropping down next to Donatello. her persisted to tell you some of the upgrades he was thinking of making in the lair. His computer set up was pretty impressive already, but just because something worked didn't mean it couldn't be further modified. Donnie was always thinking ahead.

"Just imagine if we made four of those boots of yours!" he sounded excited, letting out a laugh and a cute little snort. You paused for a second, and he pushed up his glasses, a little embarrassed at the sound that left him. You watched him with glowing red cheeks.

"OH MY GOODNESS WHY IS HE SO CUTE!!!"

If you hadn't already swallowed your pizza you would have probably choked on it.  Who knew the nerdy little turtle would have such an effect on you.

~~~~

Mikey was patting his stomach, clearly content. You smiled, gathering the empty boxes of pizza to carry to the trash. Donatello caught you struggling with about seven boxes, still trying to stack more. "Let me help you." you nodded, and he took a couple from your hand, following you out the room. You walked with him, a comfortable silence gathering.

"What were you and Sensei talking about earlier, it looked pretty serious." His question caused you to slow down a little.

"Umm, not much. He was just saying he's glad I'm around. He also said I should stop buying so much pizza for you guys." you gestured to the boxes in your hand, causing a shy smile to rise on Donnie's face.

Upon reaching the trash area, you dumped the boxes in the bin. Donnie did the same.

"Well I am glad you're here." you looked over at Donnie, who suddenly seemed a bit flustered. 

"I-I mean we're all glad you're here." he corrected, fidgeting. You watched him fiddle, your heart giving a slow flutter. Donnie really was the cutest. Maybe it was the glasses, but every time he looked at you, your chest would constrict in the most pleasant way. Hearing him say he enjoyed having you around was another plus. It did give you slight hope. Maybe he reciprocated your feelings. "I'm glad too." you replied, skipping back to the lair. Donnie's eyes followed as you moved through the sewer, a content feeling settling in his chest.

~~~

"Hey Raph, Leo." you waved at both brothers entering. Raph looked up from tying the bandages around his hand, greeting you. "Hey what's up."

"Not much, I just needed to borrow some material for a something I'm thinking about. Where is Donnie?" At the mention of his name, Raph moved closer, dropping a hand on your shoulder as he leaned in. "You know, you always run to Donnie's room whenever you get here. I'm starting to wonder if ya have a little thing for him." you sputtered, backpedaling.

"W-What No! That's No!" you shouted. Your yells earned a look from Leo, who was now very curious.

"If you're looking for Donnie he's in the training room with Mikey." Leo said almost on instinct. Did he know as well that you always gravitated to Donnie. How could you be so obvious? And here you thought you were covering your little crush well. You frowned at the smug look Raph sent you, putting his toothpick back in his mouth as you basically sprinted out the room, cheeks quickly turning red.

"Stupid Raph."

If he figured it out, maybe Donnie did too. What if he knew the entire time and just didn't say anything. 

"That's crazy, stop it stupid brain!" you tried to rid the thoughts. You did like Donnie, but if he found out and things got awkward, you wouldn't be able to deal with that.

When you got to the training room, you froze at the door, just staring. Mikey and Donnie were sparring. You stood watching every move, flip, punch that Donnie delivered. Sometimes you forgot that he wasn't just smart, but also a very skilled fighter. The way he attacked so efficiently, carefully calculating every hit, retaliating with his bo staff. Your heart was definitely pounding now.

"He's incredible."

You weren't sure how long they had been going at it, but after a few more minutes they stopped. Donnie had successfully knocked Mikey off his feet. "I win." Donnie said with a cute little grin.

He held out his hand, and Mikey took it, standing to his feet. They high fived and that's when their focus was drawn to you.

"(Y/N)?" Donnie called in question. You were still standing there gawking. You blinked a couple times, then cleared your throat.

"N-Nice moves." you commended. Mikey puffed out his chest. "Well you know, what can I say, gotta impress the ladies. " At this point he was flexing every muscle on his body, yet all you could see was the thin layer of sweat Donnie was wiping off his forehead. The action made his biceps bulge. A short breath left you. You licked your lips, enjoying the sight of his very muscular body. You swallowed, hoping you weren't being too obvious. Because right now you couldn't help it. Someone so adorably hot shouldn't be allowed to live on the planet.

"This should be a crime."

Somehow Donnie had moved without you realizing, because he was directly in front of you, adjusting his glasses to check your vitals. "(Y/N) do you have a fever!" He sounded worried.

"Your heart rate is elevated as well as your temperature. Not to mention how red your cheeks are. You need to lie down. " he didn't give you a chance to argue, picking you up and carrying you to his room.

When he stepped in he laid you on the bed gently, before turning and searching around his room for medicine. He picked up a packet of tablets, as well as a bottle of water, dropping it on the desk, moving back to get a piece of cloth. When he got back to you he was unscrewing the cork of the bottle to wet the cloth. 

"Just lay down and I'll-" because he'd been bouncing around so quickly you weren't able to stop him. Now that he was sitting right next to you, you took his hand, halting his actions.

"Donnie, I'm fine. I don't have a fever." His head tilted to the side. He pulled back down the goggles to scan you again. When he raised it, he looked confused. "I-It's back to normal. But you were just really warm. How did it go down so quickly. " he put down the bottle, still sitting on the ground before you. He reached over, placing his hand to your neck. He really was a sweetheart.

"The reason I was so warm wasn't because I have a fever."

"Then why?" he asked.

"It's..because of you Donnie.." you breathed.

"Because of me?" As smart as he was, he probably wouldn't figure out what you were trying to say. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed. With you sitting upright, and Donnie on the floor, you were right about his height from your position. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you leaned forward, hands smoothening over his shoulders. Donnie just sat there, clearly alarmed at how close you were getting. You closed the space between you, eyes shut tightly as you pressed your lips to his. You didn't stay connected long. After a few seconds you pulled back to gauge his reaction. Truth is you weren't sure what type of reaction he would have, but you were tired of hiding how you felt.

"I love you Donatello."

"I said it!"

Donnie was still silent, you sort of expected as much. He just stared at you. When he finally did speak, it came out hesitantly. "Y-You...love me..?" you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I do." you confessed. He was quiet again, and you wished you could read what his eyes were telling you, because it was lost on you. 

Despite that, you reached up slowly, taking off his glasses so you could get a better look at his gorgeous eyes. You placed them on the bed next to you, moving over to sit right between his legs. Now that you had a clearer view of Donnie's eyes, you noticed that they were dilated. That fact just made your heart pick up. You leaned in again, wrapping your hand around his shoulders this time as you kissed him.

This kiss was slower, passionate. You were conveying everything he made you feel since you'd met him. Every time he made your heart beat spike, pulse quicken, breath hitch.

All your emotions combined in one, just for him. When his muscled arms moved around your body, you swooned. You could tell he was cautious, because with his strength he could easily hurt you. Donnie held you softly, earning an appreciative sound from your throat. He finally started to respond, eyes closing, pulling you as close as you could get. Pretty soon you were gripping at his body, kisses hot and heavy.

All your pent up energy was coming out. You were shocked you were able to go so long without oxygen. The way you were kissing him made him lightheaded. It was if he were the air you needed to breathe. Your tongue darted out, hands moving to the back of his head to keep him right where you wanted him. 

You were moaning softly, brows furrowing as you tasted him. So sweet, just like his adorable personality. Your hands ventured over his plastron, and this time Donnie moaned. The sound caused your stomach to coil in anticipation. When you finally pulled away, you were gasping in mouthfuls of air. Donnie did the same, chest heaving in equal pace to yours. As you tried to catch your breath, your eyes stayed trained on his soft lips. Partially wet with saliva from your most recent session.

"I...had no idea that you.." his sentence was incomplete, due to his panting, but you could put the words together. He obviously wasn't aware of your feelings. This entire time he'd been pining after you, and you'd felt the same way. Donnie scolded himself for not saying something earlier. All along he could have been kissing your deliciously plump lips.

"I'm sorry it took so long." you spoke. Now that your breathing returned to normal. You could think a bit clearer. He shook his head.

"It's okay.I-I just thought that because I'm a mutant and you're..you're.." he didn't finish the sentence, eyes moving to the floor.

"I never saw the need to try.." he lamented. His broken tone really made you want to cry. Of course he was insecure. He was a mutant turtle. You guessed he just expected everyone to judge him for what he was. You reached over, lifting his eyes to you.

"I don't care what you are Donnie. In my eyes, you're just.." you paused, looking for the right words. There were way too many to describe him. So you just settled for the first ones to pop into your head.

"Incredibly hot." you whispered. He gulped, obviously noticing the growing need in your eyes. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Intelligent." you pressed another kiss, this time a bit lower. 

"Caring," a kiss to his neck. "Sexy." you were trailing kisses down his neck, and Donnie was having a very difficult time keeping his heart rate under control. Your head lifted, and this time you kissed him firmly on the lips. "Mine." you thought.

You stayed there, safe in his arms, exchanging long overdue kisses. People in this society would probably never accept what he was, but you'd love him, no matter what. And at the moment, that's all he could really care about.

#donatello #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #leonardo #raphael #michelangelo #newyork #reader insert #techreader #donniexreader #cuteness #love #nerds #mutants #ninjaturtles #teenage #kiss

[mattzerella-sticks]

Timing, a Dean/Cas coda to 15x07 “Last Call”

Sam has Eileen, and Dean has...

He has books, right now. After putting it off Dean finally enters the game again. Does research while his brother continues to enjoy the honeymoon he found himself in after bringing his almost-maybe back from the dead. Although in the company of books for quite some time, someone else joins him.

Sam has Eileen and Dean has... he has Cas. Or does he? If he wants to keep his angel then he'll need to be better than who he was before. Will the growth he experienced in Texas be enough to carry him over the divide, to make things like they were? Or can they never go back to the past?

Dean’s eyes droop, words on the page blurring considerably. Neat lines become scribbles and those grow infinitely larger the closer his head dips towards the book. He catches himself seconds before he completely presses his face against the book. Drags rough and bruising hands over his face, attempting to claw the tiredness off like its a cheap face mask. Most of the suds wipe away. A few linger, stuck in the creases and lines of age. Having been there for far longer than he likes thinking about, Dean leaves them and returns to reading.

Half a page later and he hears footsteps. They grow louder with each passing beat until the figure rounds the corner. Dean stiffens when Cas comes into view, relaxing only when the other man sees him.

Cas freezes under the entryway, a bottle of beer in his hand. Squinting, he studies Dean. “You’re still up?”

Dean nods, snatching the book and wiggling it slightly. “Chuck isn’t gonna kill himself… as much as that would make our lives easier.”

Huffing in agreement, Cas slowly shuffles over to where Dean sits. Trails gentle fingers across the page closest to Dean’s hand while the other brings the neck of the bottle towards his lips. Dean watches the other man sip his beer. Thirst tugging at his own heart. Cas senses his heavy gaze and turns to him, Dean slinking back in shame with cherry-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he says, “do you want me to get you one -”

“No, no,” he waves the offer off. Clearing his throat, Dean attempts to climb out of the turtle shell he hid in. No such luck. Dean continues talking to his lap. “I’ve drank enough beer for a lifetime.”

Cas scoffs, twisting Dean’s nerves. “Really? Shocking words to hear from you, Dean.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, “I’ve decided I need to make some changes. Starting… small.”

“Not drinking small?”

“Something like that.”

Drinking is one thing. Changing his clothes was another. After leaving the infirmary Dean dragged his duffel to his room and shoved it into a corner. Then Dean stripped until he wore nothing. Throwing on a random shirt and pants he detoured towards the incinerator to drop his clothes in. Undershirt, blood-stained jeans, even his boxers and both socks. And especially the red shirt. Dean waited until the button-down sparked alight and left it for the War Room. Took up his brother’s station while he recovered. “Making up for lost time,” he calls it.

“I see…”

Dean stretches under the table, crossing his feet at the ankle. Tries on an air of casualness like an ill-fitting suit. “What about you?” he asks, “Anything change since you left”

Silence rolls in like the tide, drenching them in its awkwardness. In its wake Dean curses his mouth for bringing up that horrible memory. As if he didn’t already relive it every night when he stares at his ceiling hoping for sleep. Cas’s face burned in the darkness between each blink, the last he ever thought he would see of him.

Chuck’s return has its blessings.

Cas tips the bottle towards him, scowling. “Do you really care?”

Ice claws plunge into his chest, puncturing his heart. “What -”

“Look,” He interrupts, moving away, “you don’t have to ‘play nice’ with me. Sam’s with Eileen… you can return to your research. I’ll… I don’t know, I’ll see if there’s anything good on Netflix.”

Dean jumps from his chair, grabbing the other man’s wrist and holding tight. “No!” he says, voice soft and shaking. Clearing his throat, he drains some of the panic from his tone. “No… you don’t have to leave. You can… you can stay.”

A wry chuckle breezes past his lips. His brows scrunch in confusion while sick delight flickers across Cas’s face. “Really?” he asks, “You want me here?”

“...Why wouldn’t I?”

“A loaded question,” Cas tells him, “but… why would you want me here when it means the risk of things going wrong .”

Dean’s shoulders sag from the weight of his past anger, the toxic from that moment sapping his strength. “That’s, that’s not true -”

“I mean I arrive and the first thing that happens is I almost kill Sam,” he scoffs, “If I didn’t have Eileen or Bobby on hand I doubt things would have ended much differently.” Cas squints, trembling with the force of a hurricane trapped in his being. “You were probably preparing yourself to come home to a funeral pyre -”

“That’s not true, Cas,” Dean says. “That’s… that’s not…” His grip loosens, enough for Casto tug free. Cas stays rooted to the floor. “You want to know what I was thinking on my drive home?”

Cas folds his arms over his chest, shifting into a state of disinterest. “Might as well get on with it,” he says, “it’s not like you’d listen if I said no.”

His lips thin in a tight line, Dean debating whether or not he should bother. Nothing about the other man’s body language expresses any interest. But the lessons he learned in Texas drive him forward. To carry on even when the situation looks hopeless.

He closes his eyes and imagines a softer Cas from the past, and it flows easily. Dean begins with the case, giving a basic overview. How his investigation led him to a friend he hadn’t seen in the longest time. Stumbles through the wild night they shared, embarrassed to admit how he enjoyed himself while Cas rushed around trying to save Sam. Peeking slightly Dean sees Cas wearing a guarded expression, head skewed to the side. Reserving judgment until the end, thankfully.

Good times shift into bad when Dean comes to the part where Leo betrayed him. He struggles to explain the darkness that leeched all the goodness and hope from his former friend, leaving him a husk with no moral code. “Leo turned into a monster,” Dean says, “Convinced himself that all the lives he took were worth it because they were owed to him. All because life dealt him a shitty hand.”

“If that were the case,” Cas says, “then we’re owed a genocide for our happiness.”

“He tried to convince me that was the case,” Dean shrugs, “that doing what we do isn’t worth it because, in the end, no one cares. Except sitting there with my blood dripped into the monster’s cage like a damned hamster’s water bottle… I considered letting it have me. Better food than fodder for Chuck. But if I died then no one would be able to stop Leo. I couldn’t sit and wait for death… that isn’t me. If I’m going out it’s by doing what I do best. Because even if no one else cares… I do.” Dean shudders at the admission, mind bringing forth the scene at Swayze’s. Leo inches from him, bleeding, pool cue piercing him. “I wasn’t like him… I couldn’t be. No matter how hard I try to turn my damn feelings off… choking on food or drowning in booze, it doesn’t work. Hasn’t in a long time. Leo might’ve been able to cut out his heart but mine’s too damn big. And that isn’t a weakness… it’s a strength. Should start treating it like one…”

A weight unsettles from his chest after. Chains that wrapped around his soul breaking and clattering to the ground. Not fully free, but more than it was before.

Something brushes his temple and Dean’s eyes fly wide open.

Cas inched closer during his speech, their gazes locked like nothing had changed between them. His fingers hover over Dean’s wound. Sparks of grace crackling at the ready, his steady blue pulsing with a faint glow.

“What?” Dean asks, rasping, “What are you doing?”

“I finally noticed your wound,” he tells him. “Figured after all you went through I might offer some assistance.”

Dean quickly glances at his lips, too brief to give anything away. “You don’t need to, Cas. S’just a cut. It’ll heal… I’m fine. ”

The scorching heat fades to a more familiar warmth while Cas’s eyes return to a dimmer setting. His fingers remain, however. Skimming closer to trace the glass scratches. Dean hitches a breath at the contact.

“I applaud you for your realizations,” he says, drawing Dean’s soul back down, “Your ability and prowess at caring about others far surpasses that of a regular person’s.” Cas’s thumb tenderly strokes Dean’s eyebrow, palm glued to his head. “It is one of your strengths… but your blessings can be curses. In a heart so big, people can easily be lost. Whether they’re given the bare minimum of your attention… or forgotten, pushed out and left to waste without notice.”

Cas applies pressure to the wound, Dean hissing. In the next moment he retreats, hiding behind his beer bottle.

Dean deserved that.

“That wasn’t all I got from my trip,” he says, powering ahead, “Leo said something off-hand but it… it stuck. How being a best friend doesn’t mean you can’t be awful… s’not mutually exclusive. And there’s a lot I’ve done that could win my worst friend of the decade . Yet you stuck by my side until my crap was just too much to wade through. You did the right thing, walking away. Now it’s my turn…”

“I…” The words bunch in his throat, so he breathes and ushers each one slowly through his lips. “I’m sorry. For being awful to you. Not being there when you needed me when you always came, whenever I called. For taking my pain, starting from mom’s death and everything after, and dumping it all on you. To make you feel as bad as I did. You didn’t deserve any of it… and I hope you can forgive me. Because I meant what I said about making changes in my life. Chuck can go screw himself, at the top of my list is being a good friend to you.”

His confidence shakes, and Dean scratches at his neck. “So what do you say?” he asks, chuckling, “Can we start fresh? Put all this mess behind us and go from here?”

Seconds tick by without answer. The longer Cas doesn’t speak the worse Dean feels. After five days cycle through three minutes, Dean chances a look at the other man.

Cas’s glare smites with no help from his power. He resembles every bit of the soldier from their first meeting, as if taking Dean’s request too seriously. But behind the tough facade of a soldier he sees the truth in how Cas’s lips tremble and the unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

“How,” he growls, voice rich and thick, “How could you ask me such a thing?”

Nothing he thinks of seems good enough to answer. Fear strangled his throat, afraid he will only stoke Cas’s anger.

“You want my forgiveness?” Cas asks, shoving the bottle into his chest so forcefully it adds to the series of bruises littering his body. “You think a few words will fix the fallout you caused?”

“No,” he says, “that’s why - that’s why I’m willing to prove it. It could take years, hell - I could be bald, grey, and with barely a sense of who I am anymore and I would never stop being the friend you deserve. I’ll go as long as it takes.”

He breaks. Cas’s mask of anger cracks into a more terrifying, manic glee. His laugh sends chills through Dean’s spine.

“I… I can’t,” he gasps through chuckles, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Dean stumbles. “What?”

“We’re going round in circles, chasing after different things we cannot achieve,” Cas says, “Dean… you could be the best friend in the history of the world and that wouldn’t be enough. Because friendship isn’t enough for me anymore.”

His world tilts so suddenly Dean is thrown into space. Left to drift in an unknown void. Cas’s plaintive cry echoes inside, casting him far into his memories.

Of high schools where an assigned tutor would lean too close when helping Dean catch up, and the smell of his deodorant would distract him from the lesson. Cruising bars for the easy marks - men who craved the attention of boys so desperately they wouldn’t notice missing wallets until too late. John always watching to make sure it never went too far, his glare on Dean’s back a reminder that an act was better than the truth. Of meeting Leo and being too caught up in trying to impress the other man to handle the case. Happy when he didn’t realize how Dean truly felt when they first met.

Men were friends. Brothers. Nothing more. “Unnatural,” John scoffed, sipping at his flask while a rerun of Will & Grace played in the background, “Makes me wonder if there’s anything worth saving. If it weren’t for ol’ Yellow Eyes…”

Dean let him rant, watching the TV screen carefully while Will tenderly embraced Vince. Wondering how it might feel to be wrapped up in someone’s arms. Specifically another man’s.

Curiosity drove him to taste. And the sweetness made him crave more.

Never openly out like Will. Hidden hookups in bar bathrooms instead of casual dinners in restaurants. Deflecting, joking, and denying that part of himself when the spotlight overhead grew to hot. In the safety of darkness he gave into those desires. Too scared of how much life would change if he spoke truth to power.

Except change swept through his life without Dean’s approval. When Dean began his journey with Sam, he was a child. As an adult he knows better. Not everything, but enough. To start tearing at the walls he built so long ago. Let people in certain areas he thought would never see the light of day. Have them sweep up the cobwebs and make a home.

Dean’s heart was big, but the important people have their special place. The difficulty of fitting Cas lay in how he couldn’t allow the angel-wearing-a-man to sit in one place no man was allowed.

Compared to losing Cas, did that rule make any sense?

“Dean?” Cas sighs, “If that’s all… I think my time is better spent elsewhere.”

Pure dread rips into his soul. “No!” Dean says again, “Cas…” His voice cracks into nothingness.

Cas pauses, the slightest drop of concern slipping through his carefully constructed shield. “Dean?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue. A confirmation that what Cas needs is something he’s finally willing to give. That the shadows cast from so long ago have no power now that Dean sees the light. Screw small changes, Dean readies to make the biggest change so his angel will know their story isn’t a tragedy.

Except what defines a story isn’t the characters, the plot, or the author. It’s timing.

Timing is an uncontrollable, unforgiving bitch .

“Dean? Cas? What are you still doing up?”

Sam shuffles into view, yawning. Running fingers through his sweat-matted hair. Dean deflates, creating a canyon between him and the angel with how far he slips back.

Cas’s feelings shutter, too. He finishes his beer, leaving the empty bottle on the table. “We were talking, Sam.”

“About what?”

“Dean?” Cas turns to him, challenges him. “What was it we were talking about?”

Bile rises in his throat while he looks between his brother and Cas. The desire to vomit the pitiful gas station food fights with the confession rattling in his chest. He swallows both, muttering weakly, “Research…”

“Research?”

“Yes, Sam,” Cas sighs, “Research. Although I am all researched out. If you’ll excuse me.” He strides from the room, a hole in Dean’s chest and a piece of his heart smashed under his shoe.

Dean collapses onto his chair, scrubbing his hand across his mouth. Sourness remains despite the fierce attack.

Sam joins him, grabbing a book and opening it. “You get far?”

“Far into what?”

“Research,” Sam asks, smirking, “Look, I know it’s been awhile but you weren’t wallowing for so long you forgot how to do it, right?”

He rolls his eyes, flipping a page on his forgotten book and stares at it. “I’m far in it, Sam,” Dean says, “far in nothing .” Dean casts a wry glance at his brother. “You sure you should be up and about? Your nurse didn’t strap you in?”

Sam’s face brightens at Eileen’s mention, and Dean regrets doing so. “She’s asleep on the cot,” he explains, “after you two left, she and I…” Launching into a story about what adorable, nineties will-they-won’t-they dynamics they got into, Dean rubs at his cheek with his knuckle.

Halfway into Sam demonstrating the different signs Eileen taught him earlier, Dean interrupts. “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

He pinches his lips and mimes dragging them from one point to the other. “ Zip it .”

#supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #Supernatural fanfiction #Spn fanfic #Dean Winchester #Castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #15x07 Last Call #Leo Webb #Supernatural Coda

[ftaramintas]

            hi  friends  !  i’m  koa  and  every  time  you  see  miss  jennie  kim  on  your  dash  ,  then  you’ll  be  greeted  with  the  strong  presence  that  is  araminta  park  !  you  are  absolutely  correct  if  you  know  i  got  her  name  from  the  beautiful  araminta  lee  from  crazy  rich  asians  ,  and  that’s  that  on  that  .  

            i  use  emojis  way  too  much  in  conversations  ,  specifically  my  favorites  exhibit  a.  🥺  ,  b.  🥴  ,  c.  🤠  ,  and  d.  🤪  .  i  talk  too  much  sometimes  and  i  don’t  find  that  to  be  a  bad  thing  ,  but  right  now  i’m  listening  to  itzy’s  new  album  on  loop  ,  so  make  sure  you’re  streaming  wannabe  or  we’re  gonna  fight  !  i’m  just  kidding  ,  but  without  further  ado  ,  here’s  everything  you  need  to  know  about  araminta  !

statistics  .

FULL  NAME  :  araminta  josephine  park  .

NICKNAME(S)  :  ari  ,  minta  ,  and  minnie  (  by  her  parents  only  )  .

BIRTHDATE  /  AGE  :  july  25th  ,  1997  /  23  .

ZODIAC  :  leo  .

HOMETOWN  :  manhattan  ,  new  york  .

GENDER  :  cis  female  .

NATIONALITY  :  korean - american  .

ETHNICITY  :  korean  .

HEIGHT  :  5′4″  .

LABEL(S)  :  the  queen  bee  ,  the  studious  ,  and  the  opulent  .

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION  :  biromantic  .

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION  :  bisexual  .

OCCUPATION  :  architecture  student  at  steinhardt  university  .

HOUSING  :  perry  hall  .

LANGUAGES  SPOKEN  :  korean  ,  english  ,  french  ,  and  learning  portuguese  .

POSITIVES  :  bewitching  ,  regiment  ,  decorous  ,  methodical  ,  and  distinguished  .

NEGATIVES  :  unvarnished  ,  zealous  ,  cavalier  ,  hard - hearted  ,  and  priggish  .

background  .

            araminta’s  story  begins  with  the  fateful  meeting  of  her  parents  ,  kim  seo - yeon  and  park  dong - wook  ,  on  a  cold  winter’s  day  .  they  found  themselves  at  the  tender  ages  of  20  and  22  ,  attending  a  boring  christmas  gala  with  their  parents  when  they  would  have  preferred  to  do  anything  else  in  the  world  .  seo - yeon  was  a  women  who  knew  what  she  wanted  the  moment  her  eyes  landed  upon  it  ,  so  when  she  made  brief  eye  contact  with  dong - wook  ,  she  purposefully  spilled  a  glass  of  champagne  onto  his  expensive  tom  ford  suit  and  made  a  big  deal  of  it  .  this  sparked  their  whirlwind  romance  ,  and  six  months  later  they  found  themselves  announcing  their  engagement  to  korean  media  outlets  .

            despite  how  quickly  they  were  engaged  ,  their  parents  saw  this  as  mutually  beneficial  .  seo - yeon  is  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  wealthy  kim  family  ,  owners  of  the  kq  group  conglomerate  that  was  worth  billions  in  its  own  right  .  dong - wook  was  the  only  child  of  his  parents  ,  and  came  from  park  family  lineage  where  their  hotels  and  resorts  were  the  cause  of  their  fortune  .  the  families  were  soon  to  be  one  ,  and  the  couple  was  the  chaebol  heirs  that  others  envied  .  following  their  lavish  wedding  ,  seo - yeon  and  dong - wook  decided  that  they  were  going  to  head  off  to  manhattan  to  make  a  life  for  themselves  .  so  ,  they  transferred  to  columbia  university  ,  finished  their  schooling  ,  and  shortly  after  seo - yeon’s  graduation  from  the  financial  economics  program  ,  the  couple  discovered  that  they  were  expecting  .

           it  was  a  sticky  summer  day  when  seo - yeon  unexpectedly  gave  birth  to  their  daughter  ,  who  decided  not  to  allow  her  parents  time  to  get  to  the  hospital  .  araminta  was  born  in  the  bathtub  of  her  parents’  luxury  bathroom  ,  and  right  into  the  arms  of  her  slightly  panicked  but  overjoyed  father  .  from  the  time  that  she  was  a  toddler  ,  araminta  was  a  very  precocious  child  ,  picking  up  on  skills  quite  quickly  and  speaking  in  few  short  sentences  by  the  time  she  was  eleven  months  old  .  as  she  grew  older  ,  araminta’s  parents  remained  hands  on  despite  their  busy  schedules  ,  and  decided  that  they  would  see  what  their  daughter  would  have  the  most  interest  in  .  when  she  was  four  ,  her  parents  began  piano  lessons  ,  and  it  was  evident  that  she  had  a  natural  gift  for  the  instrument  .

           years  continued  to  pass  ,  and  araminta  was  always  a  top  student  in  both  academics  and  her  extracurriculars  .  as  she  attended  the  very  best  schools  in  new  york  city  ,  araminta  was  usually  the  first  to  answer  questions  ,  the  first  to  sign  up  ,  and  the  first  to  complete  her  tests  .  she  was  the  recipient  of  various  awards  throughout  the  years  ,  whether  it  be  honor  roll  or  due  to  her  participation  in  various  student  organizations  .  by  the  time  she  reaches  high  school  ,  araminta  is  on  the  fast  track  to  attending  the  college  of  her  choice  .  this  is  also  the  time  where  she  discovers  her  love  for  both  dance  and  volleyball  .  honestly  ,  she  tried  out  for  the  dance  team  at  her  high  school  on  a  whim  ,  and  immediately  fell  in  love  with  it  .  volleyball  is  her  main  love  ,  and  she  keeps  up  with  dance  because  she  gets  to  have  fun  and  it  helps  to  keep  her  in  shape  .

           araminta  was  accepted  into  steinhardt  university  during  her  junior  year  because  she  was  absolutely  the  girl  who  took  her  sat  during  sophomore  year  because  she  wanted  to  get  it  out  of  the  way  !  so  ,  she  went  through  her  last  two  years  of  high  school  not  stressing  over  college  (  and  honestly  i  think  about  that  scene  from  mean  girls  where  everyone’s  freaking  out  because  of  the  burn  book  and  regina  is  just  standing  there  JNFDFHD  )  .  during  the  first  semester  of  college  at  steinhardt  ,  though  ,  araminta  was  dealt  a  heavy  blow  when  she  discovered  that  her  parents  were  separating  .

            they  weren’t  arguing  a  lot  or  anything  ,  but  they  simply  didn’t  want  to  be  married  anymore  /  the  relationship  lost  its  spark  ,  so  they  figured  it’d  be  best  to  end  their  relationship  .  during  that  time  ,  it  was  really  hard  for  araminta  to  understand  because  she  didn’t  want  her  family  to  be  broken  ,  but  as  the  years  passed  ,  she  began  to  understand  why  they  decided  to  end  their  relationship  .  at  steinhardt  ,  araminta  is  an  architecture  major  and  it’s  entirely  due  to  the  fact  that  she  wants  to  someday  take  over  her  father’s  position  as  ceo  of  the  hotel  /  resort  company  that  his  family  owns  .  she’s  the  captain  of  the  dance  team  and  the  right  side  hitter  on  the  volleyball  team  !

headcanons  .

definitely  plans  on  going  to  graduate  school  once  she’s  graduated  ,  and  more  than  likely  will  get  a  degree  in  business  !

as  mentioned  ,  she  currently  resides  in  perry  hall  .  when  it  comes  to  the  decor  of  her  room  ,  i’d  say  it’s  pretty  minimal  with  muted  tones  ,  but  there’s  definitely  some  soft  pinks  scattered  about  !  really  likes  having  gold  as  an  accent  color  (  cannot  stand  the  marble  trend  )  and  everything  has  a  place  !

she  never  leaves  her  dorm  without  making  the  bed  or  putting  away  dishes  from  breakfast  /  lunch  .  it’s  mostly  because  she  usually  gets  back  home  really  late  so  the  last  thing  she  wants  to  do  is  have  to  clean  before  bed  .

studies  a  lot  ,  studies  late  ,  and  studies  hard  .  if  she  were  to  have  a  studygram  (  yes  ,  that’s  absolutely  a  thing  )  it  would  be  the  most  aesthetically  pleasing  instagram  on  the  planet  .  probably  only  uses  these  heavy  gold  pens  modeled  after  the  ones  her  father  uses  with  her  name  engraved  on  it  .

araminta  is  full  on  the  girl  who  does  not  show  up  to  class  in  sweatpants  and  a  hoodie  .  i  draw  a  lot  of  her  style  inspiration  from  itsyuyan  on  instagram  and  jennie’s  own  style  .  the  only  time  she’ll  ever  be  casual  is  during  those  trips  to  the  library  or  when  she’s  lounging  at  home  ,  and  even  then  she’s  probably  wearing  jeans  and  a  tee /  sweater  or  a  coordinated  pajama  set  .

i  know  jennie  has  since  cut  her  hair  ,  but  araminta’s  hair  is  long  !  specifically  ,  her  hair  is  waist  length  .  she  drives  a  white  mercedes  glc  where  she’s  usually  taking  selfies  lmao  but  her  parents  got  her  that  car  because  it’s  #safe  and  honestly  she  barely  even  drives  the  thing  unless  she’s  going  grocery  shopping  or  making  the  trip  back  home  .

personality  .

oh  boys  ,  where  do  i  even  begin  with  this  brat  !

to  quote  that  tik  tok  song  :  i’m  a  bitch  ,  i’m  a  boss  .  araminta  works  very  hard  despite  misconceptions  that  she  has  everything  handed  to  her  because  of  her  family’s  wealth  .  she  can  be  very  prideful  of  all  of  her  accomplishments  at  times  ,  but  definitely  will  let  them  do  the  talking  instead  of  being  the  type  to  bring  them  up  in  every  conversation  .

she’s  nice  to  who  she  wants  to  be  nice  to  ,  and  sometimes  she’ll  be  the  very  opposite  of  nice  .  she  can  complain  a  lot  sometimes  ,  especially  when  she’s  doing  something  that  she  wasn’t  want  to  .  

will  respond  to  attitudes  with  the  same  energy  and  she  will  take  no  prisoners  .

she  is  and  will  remain  as  #1  in  her  program  (  valedictorian  )  and  will  do  whatever  it  takes  to remain  in  such  spot  .  she’s  wildly  ambitious  mostly  stemming  from  her  father  being  the  same  way  ,  so  she’ll  step  on  toes  and  sink  her  nails  in  in  order  to  get  what  she  believes  is  hers  .

crazy  charming  ,  and  usually  it  only  takes  her  flashing  a  smile  in  order  to  get  what  she  wants  .  however  since  she’s  pretty  full  of  herself  that  can  be  a  real  turn  off  to  others  who  don’t  care  about  the  luxuries  that  can  afford  .    

desired  relations  .

i  would  love  to  have  almost  any  and  everything  .  first  ,  some  basics  that  i’d  love  to  have  are  as  follows  :  former  roommates  ,  best  friends  ,  academic  rivals  ,  friends  with  benefits  ,  confidant(s)  ,  frenemies  ,  good  /  bad  influence  ,  one  night  stand(s)  ,  flirtationship  ,  enemies  with  benefits  ,  and  a  current  or  ex  fling  !

i’ve  been  drinking  my  women  loving  women  juice  recently  and  i’d  love  for  her  to  have  an  ex  gf  ?  i  really  feel  that  they  ended  on  good  terms  like  they  might  have  simply  drifted  apart  ,  but  they  remain  really  good  friends  ?  there’s  probably  even  a  sprinkle  of  them  being  confidants  to  one  another  ,  but  give  me  this  or  give  me  death  .  

i  would  die  for  literally  any  form  of  angst  that  you  could  possibly  think  of  ?  angsty  friends  ,  angsty  exes  ,  angsty  anything  .  i  love  to  put  myself  through  misery  so  honestly  ...  bury  me  six  feet  under  and  i  will  literally  thank  you  .

all  aboard  the  heartbreak  train  !  this  ties  back  into  my  love  for  angst  ,  but  some  form  of  an  ex  or  maybe  even  someone  who  she  go  close  to  but  it  didn’t  really  work  out  ?  maybe  even  a  will  they  won’t  they  ?  but  essentially  ,  clearly  these  two  have  feelings  but  for  some  reason  things  didn’t  work  out  for  them  and  now  they’re  probably  in  a  limbo  or  trying  to  determine  where  they’re  headed  but  they  absolutely  refuse  to  talk  about  it  !  all  of  their  friends  notice  but  they  blow  them  off  and  ok  let  me  relax  and  actually  allow  us  to  plot  ,  but  just  some  potential  ideas  !

i  will  have  a  desired  relations  tag  that  i’ll  be  updating  as  frequently  as  i  can  ,  but  if  none  of  these  work  for  you  or  if  you  have  something  you  see  araminta  filling  ,  then  please  let  me  know  !  we  can  totally  brainstorm  or  if  you  want  ,  then  we  can  work  on  chemistry  !

#steinhardt:intro #this is really long even without her bio i'm CRYING

[spectrumscribe]

... how about season one Donnie meeting season 5 Donnie. While season 5 Donnie knows that messing with the timelines is a terrible idea. He's just lost so much. His brothers have drifted so far apart. His father's dead. So, hes left with the choice of ruining his timeline for a possible better one. (You can choose what he does and the consquences if your want to do this dabble)

Anon this took a long time to answer, but trust me I have been thinking about it frequently ever since you sent this ask.

Donatello appears in Donnie’s lab with a burst of light; theair pressure popping in his ear canals and the smell of something singedfilling his nose.

Donnie stares, unable to articulate what’s just happened.His other self stares back, panting and looking like he’s just been throughhell.

A long silver cloak obscures most of his body, only his headuncovered. Donnie’s mirror self holds a demented looking staff in his hands,the rod leading up to a giant red hand clutching an hour glass.

“-what’s the date?” His other self gasps out.

Donnie looks closer, and distantly realizes that no, thisturtle isn’t his mirror self. The other Donatello is taller, has lines to hisface Donnie knows he doesn’t have. He’s carrying an air of someone on the edge,and looking ready to shove anyone near him over it.

“What’s the date?”His other self demands sharply.

Donnie startles, and blurts out the information requested onreflex. The other Donatello sags against his bizarre staff, and looks sorelieved it probably hurts.

“Oh good,” He says, smiling in a broken way. “I was worriedI’d overshoot or something.”

And then he nearly falls onto the floor, and Donnie rushesto catch him.

–/–

It takes only a few moments for the other him to catch hisbreath. In those moments, Donnie sees what he can only assume is a collectionof hot-sharp desperate emotions be shoved under the surface. It looks painful;to cover up so much all in one go.

“Who are you?” Iswhat he asks soon as he’s able. Except with a lot more confusion and swearinginvolved.

“I’m you,” is theweary and partially humorous answer. The other Donatello smiles as he saysthat, drawing at stress lines that make him look older by decades. “Well, I’myou, except nearly five years older and a hell of a lot more traumatized. Ha.”

Donnie thinks he looks too old to be just twenty.

The explanation is curt, to the point. Donatello- as Donnieis calling him, because two Donnie’s is just confusing even inside his head- explainswho he is, where he’s come from, and how he’s gotten into Donnie’s lab in theearly hours of the night.

“The time sceptre,” Donatello says, holding up the creepystaff as he does. “I stole it from someone we used to think of as a friend. Thecloak, too.” He smiles, but it’s a bitter expression. A lot of things aboutDonatello seem bitter. “It’ll hide my presence from the time mistresses, longenough I can get everything I need to done.”

“Uh,” Donnie says. “that explains so very little of what thehell is going on. Time mistresses?”

“They’re from the seventy-ninth dimension,” Donatello says,which doesn’t clarify anything but doesconfirm the multiverse theory. Hooray? “There’s a whole collection of them, asociety, even, and while we used to be friends with an apprentice of theirs, Isort of. Well. Burned that bridge to the ground when I broke into theirheadquarters and stole one, the most powerful time scepter they have, and two,one of their stealth cloaks. So long as I wear it, they can’t track mymovements through time. Just the ripples I leave in it.”

Donnie puts his fingers to his temples, trying to catcheverything all at once and make sense of it. “Okay, time travel and alternatedimensions are confirmed scientifically possible, great. Why are you doing allthis?”

Donatello’s expression hardens and goes cold. “To preventthe future I came from.”

Oh god. It’s worse than Donnie imagined. This is everyhorrible sci-fi thriller ever and he’s livingit.

“…and what sort of future is that?” He’s so afraid to ask.

Donatello remains cold, but takes on a bone deep exhaustion.“Well… for starters, our father died.”

Donnie was right to be afraid, and his heart goes colderthan Donatello’s expression.

“No,” He whispers, air knocked out of him. “No, that’s impossible.”

“He’s just as mortal as any of us, I’m afraid,” Donatellosays. His hands tighten around the scepter. “Shredder kills him three yearsdown the road from here, but not before a lot of really, really bad stuffhappens because of him. Because of both of them. I’m here to stop it.”

Donnie’s head is spinning. His father dies.  Died.It’s not even something he can properly imagine; the rat that’s always beenuntouchable in a fight, even with all four of him and his siblings ganging upon him. He died and Donnie sent himself back in time to prevent that. But-

“How?” Donnie asks, even though a part of him is alreadyarriving at multiple answers, including-

“Simple,” Donatello says. “I’ll kill Shredder before he cankill anyone else.”

He takes out a folded piece of paper; crumpled blueprint seton the table next to them and smoothed out. Donnie only has to glance at it toknow what’s drawn on its surface.

“And, you’re going to help me.”

–/–

Donnie already has all the materials needed, scattered throughouthis lab and in the garage. He’s horrified, and confused, and yet not.

He always knew he had the potential to build scarier things,deadlier things. He just didn’t, because it seemed so… terrible. Even in theface of everything he’s been through the last few months, it wasn’t ever a linehe wanted to cross.

Now, he has motivation. Both in the tried and true one ofwanting to protect his family, and in the intimidating figure his older selfpresents.

Between the two of them, they have everything nearly set upalready, despite only beginning a few hours ago. Donnie is hesitant now andagain, but Donatello works with machinelike pace and precision. There are nomistakes or pauses as he works across the table from Donnie; only focus andunrelenting concentration.

Donnie darts glances at his other self, examining thedifferences between them more closely.

Donatello had laid out his reasoning and motivations todestroy his own future. Most of it had been to do with what effect theirfather’s death had had on their family, but also… what had happened betweenthem all afterwards, and even before that.

Maybe Raph was always a little more physical and short-fusedthan needed. Maybe Leo got on their cases a lot and sometimes was a littleharsher than he should be. Maybe Splinter had always been a little bitstandoffish towards Donnie and Mikey’s interests and skillsets. That didn’tmean they were abusive, right?

A lot can change in half a decade, it seemed.

The accusations Donatello had told Donnie sat heavy in hischest; painful to think on and slimy feeling to imagine.

Donatello had looked so tired when he told Donnie thosethings. Exhausted and regretful. It’s notentirely their fault, he’d said, weall got dealt bad hands and they dealt with it worse than any of us. I canstill save them from that. We both can.

Save Leo, Raph, and Splinter from themselves and the peoplethey could become. Save Mikey from becoming detached and brittle smiling, madesharp and weary by war and devolving home life. Save April from becomingsomeone who burned too bright and carried too much anger and pain to handle.Save Casey.

“Who’s that?” Donnie had asked.

Donatello had paused for a moment, and then smiled in a wrymanner.

“Someone who helped me get back here,” He’d said. Then, withwarmth, “and some idiot you’ll learn to trust with your life.”

Then he’d paused, and sagged a little around his shoulders.Tired, grieving.

“He didn’t make it through the portal with me.”

Donatello went quiet after that.

Donnie still sees those things in Donatello’s posture, evenas they work quickly to assemble what they need. There are scars and lines toDonatello’s body and face that add to the exhausted air; making him look somuch older than twenty.

Donnie is quietly scared of those things. The age and thewear and the blank resignation, of what Donatello’s told him, and of theexplosives they have piled all around them.

He wants to go find his brothers. His father. He wants tograb them all and look them in the eye, and begthem to chase away any doubts he has about them, or their family, or theirlove. He wants to be a kid who can run to his family and have them explain awayeverything that’s horrible in the world. He wants them all to promise theywouldn’t ever become those people, and that he wouldn’t become Donatello.

But, Donatello is short of time. He’d said that even withthe cloak he still wears, eventually the time mistresses he stole from willfind him. The sceptre is too powerful to hide for long, and…

Donnie agrees, despite how everything is spiraling out ofhis control and feeling exactly like a black hole. He agrees that for theirfamily…

Well, he’s willing to do anything for them. Anything to keepthem whole, healthy, and happy. Even kill for them.

–/–

Donnie’s pulse races as they scale the building; terrifiedthat someone will somehow see them, despite all the precautions they’ve taken,and terrified because he has bombs onhis shell.

He’s designed plans for bombs over the years. Thought aboutchemicals and devices that could create the biggest boom. He’s never actually considered bringing those thoughts intoreality. Too dangerous, too extreme.

His other self still doesn’t seem to have any reluctance forthose sorts of things; carrying his half of the bombs without hesitance as theyclimb.

Donnie pulls out the first bomb he’s supposed to place, ashe reaches a nook of the church’s outside. The thing isn’t much bigger than hishand, but it weighs.

It feels like a precipice he’s about to topple from.

Donnie bites his lip, and reminds himself this is for thesake of his family. Even if it feels… wrong.

He places the bomb, locking it to the stone and activatingit. The little green light comes to life, and Donnie has to swallow bile as hehas to keep going.

How has no one caught them yet? How have they totallyescaped the notice of one of the most powerful crime lords in the world?Donnie’s hindbrain insists that their luck can’t hold, that even though hisother self said he knew the patrol patterns perfectly, they’re going to becaught and then everyone will die-

A shape falls past Donnie and his heart jumps out of hischest.

He whips his head to follow the shape, ready to detach his handfrom the metal grips around his palms and grab the first kunai he can-

-and he sees the black clad form of a guardsmen, metal mesheyes staring upwards, just before he hits the ground with a cracking thud.

Donnie stares, uncomprehendingly, at the corpse below him.

It’s in the shadows of the alley, and looks just like therest of the trash bags scattered along the ground. It looks like just anotherlump in the dark. Something no one would ever glance twice at.

He feels like throwing up.

Donnie slowly looks upwards, breath difficult to find.

His other self meets his eyes, blank and undisturbed. Andthen turns away as he disappears onto the roof.

Donatello had said they wouldn’t meet any guards. Thatthey’d get all the bombs in place without even having to worry about them. Allof Donnie’s observations of the church had said that was impossible, but he’daccepted the insistences anyways. Because he didn’t want to think of the truth.

Donatello lied to him. It somehow doesn’t feel like asurprise.

An aged mirror of his face reappears above him.

“Hurry up,”Donatello whispers over the ledge of the church. “I don’t have much time left.”

So he keeps saying, at least.

Donnie feels the weight of the bombs on his shell, slungcarefully inside a large duffle bag like they are. The sound of the thud playsover and over in his head.

He reminds himself that this is for his family, theirfuture, and that everyone inside this building is going to be dead very soonanyways. What’s one death sooner than that?

Donnie feels detached from himself as he keeps climbing. Hevaguely wonders if he’ll ever sleep again, after tonight.

–/–

“Are you sure?” Donnie asks one last time, staring at thebuilding they’ve wired to blow.

“I spent half a year examining every single day of ourlives, dating from April’s appearance to- to our father’s death,” His otherself says, bent double over the thicker, sturdier laptop from the Shellraiser.He’s letting Donnie look at it, but clearly needs no assistance as he hacks thecameras inside the church a second time. “I’ve crunched numbers andpossibilities and alternate options into oblivion, trust me,” Donatello looksstone-faced determined, so much so it’s making Donnie uncomfortable. “There isno other way. I’m sorry.”

He’s been saying that all night. Donnie’s starting to feellike it means more than just ‘sorry’.

Donatello’s typing slows, and he stops completely. Staringat the screen with intensity.

Donnie sees what he’s staring at, and swallows.

The Shredder.

Sat on his throne, discussing something the video feed won’tpick up. Foot soldiers stationed along the walls of the room, no sign of hissecond in commands or of Karai. Donatello said she was out at the moment, thatshe wouldn’t make it back in time.

Donnie, feeling dizzy, wonders why they weren’t killing heras well.

He turns his eyes back to the tips of the church. Two blocksaway, they have a perfect view of the top roof of the building. All the sharptowers, the piercing arches aimed at the sky.

Donnie is about to watch it all be destroyed, and have theknowledge he helped orchestrate it.

He can’t feel his legs. Reality feels like it’s sliding.

For his family. It was all for his family. He needed toremember that.

“Text Leo,” Donatello says, clipped and low. Donnie doesn’tlook at him. “Tell him to tell Karai… she should get back to her base soon, orshe’ll miss the show.”

Donnie stutters internally. “What? Why would- he’s with her? Right now?”

“Yes,” Donatello says; no hint of a lie. “Where did youthink he disappeared all the time?”

Donnie reels, implications about his brother gettingfriendly with one of the deadliest threats in their lives making his head spin.“Oh my god- he’s been- and he didn’t tellus?”

Donatello scoffs, the sound almost a bitter laugh. “Thisisn’t even the worst stupid stunt he pulls. Just text him, they’ll get heresoon enough.”

“Why? Why do weeven want her to see this?” It seems… overkill, making her watch her own fatherdie, as terrible as the both of them are.

“She doesn’t need to see it,” Donatello says. “I just needto tell her something before we go. Better she comes now than me having to huntfor her later. It’ll save time.”

Donnie doesn’t want to know. He does not want to know whathis other self wants to tell Karai; not with the dull, bitter tone to hiswords.

He texts Leo anyways. He puts away his phone before hestarts getting replies back.

“Ready?” Donatello asks, holding a finger over the key thatwill activate the countdown sequence.

Donnie wants to scream no.

“Yes,” He says, and it comes out strangled. “As I’ll everbe.”

Donatello nods, and turns back to the screen perched on hiscrossed legs. He presses the key, starting the thirty second countdown.

Donnie tears his eyes from the changing numbers, to glanceat Donatello’s expression.

He doesn’t look like he’s feeling anything at all.

“I’m sorry,” Donatello says suddenly, the flashing screenlighting his face strangely. “You shouldn’t have had to see this. Do any ofthis.”

Twenty-five seconds.

“Then why are you making me?” Donnie asks, because he hasto. “You could’ve done this on your own. I know you could have.”

Twenty seconds.

“Because,” Donatello says. He doesn’t take his eyes off thefigure of Shredder or the countdown. “you have to learn, whether you or I wantyou to.”

Fifteen seconds.

“Learn what?”

“How to do what needs doing, so we don’t lose anyone everagain.”

Ten seconds.

Donnie can’t find anything to say to that.

Donatello doesn’t look at him. Only staring at the Shredder,with cold hate slowly creeping into his expression.

Five seconds.

Donnie looks away, but he counts the seconds anyways.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Donnie shuts his eyes.

The explosion goes off, shuddering through the air.

(Continued on AO3, since it’s going to get a fair bit longer.)

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #Donatello #and.... donatello? #donatello x2 #Request Night #My writing #go read the rest i'm p proud of it so far #lmao this is the war-weary donnie i was talking about the other day #bc i loved writing this #and i'll keep loving it as i go along #i'd say in the AO3 one i'm.... 40% done? #just some more hard emotional things #and then i wrap things up with a bittersweet ending #Time Traveling Donatello AU #<tag name right there for this AU