#amnt

i’ve claimed it yes.

Donnie.

Explain 'soupalad' to me, quickly. Answer for your crimes.

AmNT: Giggles

(Adult Mutant Ninja Turtles) Warning! This content is for audiences 18+, written about characters 18+ I do not condone such behaviors in any context outside of fiction writing. This is written only for entertainment purposes. If you or someone you care about find yourselves experiencing a situation like this or one where you don't feel safe, please find help! Don't sit through it, thinking it will get better or that you can fix them. Take care of yourselves! With that being said, warnings here for, but not limited to:

Dub to non-consensual situations such as touching, kissing, groping, and sex

Kidnapping

Extended false imprisonment

Breeding

Dependence Issues

Obsession

Jealousy

Violence

Less Than Heroic Raphael (Just look at the title, darlings)

Now! If you're still here, I thank you for reading. This one is dedicated to @8pmblackcoffee who I'm sure I will find waiting for me in a dark alley with a bat, for my crimes, one day~

It wasn't the thunder rolling across the city that woke me. Or the patter of rain against the arched windows to either side of my bed. No, what woke me was the massive presence sitting at the foot of my bed. It was easy to recognize the splatter of red in the darkness of my room and I sucked in a breath.

Raph hadn't spoken to me for a month, after I'd sat him down for a serious talk about boundaries. His straying touches and lingering stares hadn't gone unnoticed.

I was flattered, of course. A true-blue New York City hero with a little crush on me? And it was Raph... We'd been friends for almost a year now, after he'd saved my ass from being a bystander in a gang war.

But there were so many reasons it couldn't work. For one thing, he was massive. Easily breaching the seven foot mark and too wide to fit through a regular doorway. He had to turn at an angle to get through my windows, without damaging them. And then there was the fact that he was... Well, he was an entirely different species and I didn't want to dwell on the moral implications of that. He hadn't even started as a human, from what I understood.

And now here he was. Sitting on the edge of my bed, his shell turned towards me. I could see the battle-worn carapace in the occasional flashes of lightning, still bearing a fresh painting, likely at Mikey's hand. Today was another kanji that I couldn't understand.

That wasn't where my focus should dwell though, I knew that.

Regardless of whether it was Raph or not, there was a man in my bedroom, in the middle of the night, ominously quiet and apparently lost in thought.

I opened my mouth, prepared to ask him what he was doing here when I spotted the scrapes lacing his shoulders and elbows. I couldn't see them, but I'd be willing to bet they decorated his knuckles too. When Raph fought, he did so with a wild edge that was difficult to comprehend. His rage was often amazing, terrifying, all-consuming. I'd seen it in action a few times, and now...

"Raph?"

His head twitched to the side and I was given a preview of his profile. Once again, I was reminded that if there weren't a million practical reasons to not be with him... The year had left me plenty of room to recognize that he was... Handsome. In his own strange way. More than a little rough around the edges, but attractive. Which was wrong. It was wrong to find him attractive because there were too many problems with being with him, too many obstacles, too many...

I gathered my comforter over my chest as I sat up, careful of modesty around him. I didn't want to lead him on, not at all, no matter how the more whimsical part of me might feel.

He shifted, pulling a leg up on the edge of the bed as he turned slightly. One long arm reached out, fisting in the blankets and tugging, ruthlessly. I hitched in a sharp breath when it pulled taut between them, pulling back. It was a fruitless attempt at a tug-o-war, one that he won far too quickly with a vicious snatch of his arm.

I yelped, curling my legs up, folding my arms myself and hissed at him.

"The hell do you think you're doing! Raph, you- Go- Go home!"

"Naw," he said, reaching for my ankle next and I scrambled away, towards the brick wall and the tapestry hung from it. If I could get something wrapped around myself, I'd feel infinitely better, but-

I was dragged back, with a little screech, by the ankle.

And then I was under him and panic lodged itself in my throat. Oh god. His massive chest took up the entirety of my sight before he shifted back, his weight on his knees and the hand pinned into the bed, by my head. The other hand curled around my throat. There was no squeeze, no pressure, just a hold, to keep me there as he stared down at me. Not at my body, but the alternative was almost worse. He stared at my face, the mottled gold of his gaze fixed on my wide eyes as I tried to regulate my breathing. This was Raph. Raph would never hurt me. Not this big red teddy bear-

"See," he started, slow and measured, "Way I figure it, I ain't got any guarantees on a long life, the way me 'n my brothers live it, and that limits my chances at findin' someone like you again."

What?

I scrambled at his hand, trying to pry his thick fingers away from his grip and I followed with a sharp knee to the plates of his abdominals. It only served to bruise me. He didn't even grunt in exasperation, it was like trying to put up a fight against a brick wall.

"Raph, please-!"

"'S right, Princess. You're gonna be sayin' a lot of that, but not yet."

I lost sight of his eyes when his heavy brows furrowed into a tight knot and he tipped his head forward, casting the entirety of his face in shadow. And then he put pressure on the sides of my neck. Oh no. No, no, no.

I tried again, desperately clawing at his chest as terror pulsed though my veins, alongside the realization that I had, perhaps, fed the wrong stray, in giving Raph the time of day, as far as friendship.

Raph had moved me several times over the course of the past few days. First had been an abandoned apartment building where he'd paced, in a manic fit, assured that something terrible would happen if he left me there... As if he hadn't just kidnapped me.

Then he'd tried the junkyard, but that too had been fraught with "potential dangers".

There'd been more places before he'd settled on something that I still didn't know how he managed. A trailer in an abandoned trailer park, on the very outskirts of the city. It was scarcely furnished, surprisingly clean, and relatively fortified. From the outside, it looked like any of the other mobile homes left there, covered in growth and dust, the windows boarded up. We hadn't even been able to go in through the doors, he'd shoved me under the trailer and up through a hatch in the floor.

He hadn't said much when he'd secured me on the threadbare couch and prowled around the house, double-checking windows and the front and back doors. Neither had I, but mostly because my throat was bruised, on the exterior where he'd repeatedly put me in a one-handed sleeper hold. Dried tear tracks made my skin feel taut, countering the general grossness of several days gone unbathed. My hair was greasy, my skin unpleasant to exist in, my clothes beyond rustled and... Gross.

He'd bundled the knot of a kerchief in my mouth and tied the ends behind my head, effectively muffling my cries of distress. And rage. Because I was beyond angry with him. The fucking audacity.

The minute he settled enough to peer at me, I threw a fucking fit. He wrinkled his nose,watching as I kicked and flailed and snarled behind the gag and he set his fists on his hips.

"Keep it up, I won't show ya how good the hot water heater is."

The idea that there was power at all, out here, was astonishing, much less that there was running water and a hot water tank. Regardless, such bribery wouldn't work when he was the one responsible for my current state of being. When he stepped closer, I kicked. A useless endeavor, we both knew it, but I still made the effort and he caught my ankle and lifted me, indignantly. I'd been in my sleep tank and panties for days and I hated him for it. I really did. Angry tears welled again and I wondered how there was anything left to cry. He'd given me water and food, sure, but it'd been scarce while he was trying to find a place to stow me away.

"You're only lucky I don't got chains already set up," he muttered and I shrieked, in the back of my throat, hauling the other foot around in a wild flail of motion. He caught and carried me, by both ankles, towards one end of the trailer, to what I could only assume was the master bedroom. It was almost entirely full of mattresses, piled one after the other. King-sized mattresses in two shoved-together stacks to make for one extra long bed that he'd adorned with blankets and pillows and sheets galore.

Jesus, it looked like a...

No. No, that would be too much. The turtle was nesting.

And he'd brought me to his nest, which only meant... No. No, no. No, we'd had this talk, we did, and we were fine, and sure, he hadn't talked to me for awhile, but that felt normal enough, given what he just went through and-

He hauled me into the bathroom, a surprisingly nice one with a caddy corner garden tub, the shelves of which were decorated with crawling ivy that had found its way to the wall and up, over the ceiling. He'd ripped the old carpet out, left in just the bare plywood underflooring, but there were rugs sprawled around to accommodate that. He turned instead towards the enclosed shower, manhandling me carefully, into a more upright position, until he could set me on my feet where I wobbled.

Oh god. This was happening. How could this happen? He reached past me to turn on the water as he glowered down at me, in the darkness of the bathroom, "You're gonna scrub yerself. You try to run? I get the chains to keep you where I want you. Just- This is- It's better than ya think." His once comforting accent now brought a well of rage and fear, to the pit of my stomach.

The most frightening angle of it all was the way the wrath slipped from him, slowly, replaced by compassion and adoration as he cupped my chin.

I completely forgot!!

I posted this all to my twitter, but I started my own tmnt au just for funsies!!

I wrote up an entire google doc for it as well lmao. I drew Shredder and Bishop on a stream, I had a lot of fun with all this! Its still not finished, got plenty of other character to draw

Which story are we talking about here friend? If this is in reference to @thebirbiest and my ‘A Much-Needed Talk’ (AMNT) thread and its secondary installment of ‘The Festival of Spoops’ (TFoS) then while it is currently on an extended hiatus I can say that neither Birby or I have lost our love or interest in the possibility of continuing it, it simply comes down to things aligning correctly. 

That said, if you are looking for fresh content following that line of canon- divergence, might I recommend Birby’s personal post-Volume 3 Rwby-rewrite Fic Trust Love which should feed all your desires if you’ve enjoyed our threads together (Really anything they’ve written is amazing so I hope you enjoy it!). 

but “amn’t” is a good contraction

i used to use it all the time when I was a kid and so did everyone in my elementary school

and I don’t usually use it anymore but sometimes catch myself writing it in characters dialogue when it feels right (then I back up and erase it because I have no clue if it’s actually that common)