hi remrose! as an amateur writer currently trying to write a longfic for the first time, i'm really curious to know about your writing process for fics! your fics always seem so detailed, well-researched and well-planned.
are there any apps you use to help you out with planning? what do you even use to research???? google scholar??? friends??? textbooks???
i would love to learn more about your whole fic writing process, going from initial inception to a fully formed work, because i'm really, really struggling with planning, especially with the level of detail needed to craft a compelling piece with solid worldbuilding and plot :')
tysm!
hallo friend :)
unfortunately, the answer to this question is not usually one that is fun to hear as an amateur. which is that i have been writing for 15 years and have written 4 million words of fiction in that time
so my process comes from practice practice practice that has led to skill and intuition. i wrote my first long piece back in 2010, a 50k novel that is truly unrecognizable from the level of writing i have today but still an absolutely imperative step for the journey i've been on.
i have always written solely because i enjoy the art of story-telling. i haven't shared most of it. disclaimer here, i'm autistic and writing is my special interest, i am an outlier that should not be counted etc and this may not be applicable to anyone else but me lol
so for my first piece of advice: never ever write anything with the thought that it is going to be shared. write it as if you are being given the pleasure of creating a story that you want to read. if it is shared later, so be it. but create your self indulgent bullshit for you and no one else and that will fuel you so much better than external pressures ever will.
secondly, you can plan until you're blue in the face and i promise by 5000 words you will have to revamp everything you've come up with so far. get started first then go back and plug holes and insert the new ideas you only got when you were actually physically writing words. huge plans only intimidate you into not writing them.
third, for research, i use wikipedia and their linked sources. i spent an hour on twenty different wiki pages on induction heating for the two-second conversation donnie has with leo in firefight about how his little stove works. AND make sure to double check things you THINK are true. a fun example being: base logic would assume if someone is cold, to put them in a hot bath. but actually if someone is hypothermically cold, putting them in a hot bath can actually kill them!
fourth, my own process. the planning app i use is the notes app on my phone with bullet points. i spend a while just walking around adding tiny pieces of the story before sitting down and trying to nail down a solid concept. as stated, i don't want everything perfect before i start actually writing. what i need is these three things:
a hook. eg donnie follows leo into the prison dimension. and all the fun things will follow that naturally
a theme. important parts of the story for me is an overall theme. i don't want to tone-shift away from this theme by contradicting myself, so it keeps my scenes in check.
the ending. i have to know what i'm working towards, even if i don't know all the parts in the middle. are they going to survive, what lesson are they going to learn, what is the takeaway that i will be presenting, both in-story and outside the meta?
then i build the story based off all the little plot points in my checklist. sometimes i organize them into a timeline, but then that often gets moved or changed or ignored. keep in mind this rule of thumb: every scene needs to accomplish communicating something about the theme, the plot, and/or the character. the scenes need to make up a whole, and HOPEFULLY build towards both the theme and ending with every step forward.
which is why i said this is hard to hear as a beginner, because i learn how to juggle all these things simply by writing stories over and over and over again until it's not really something i'm thinking too consciously about. gotta practice your brushstrokes, your basketball hoops, gotta put the work in.
fun fact is i actually hate worldbuilding and laugh whenever i get complimented on it. i worldbuild by doing the least amount of it possible and focus on show-not-tell. don't be afraid to troubleshoot your own works, and don't publish something directly after you write it bc then you can't fix later in the story when you want the characters to actually be able to fly etc lol
oh and one last shoutout to consistency over inspiration! set a small writing goal for everyday and develop a streak you don't want to break. if you wait for motivation, you will always be sorely disappointed at your progress versus just get shit on a page every day. remember, self indulgence bullshit is your friend. do it for you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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*slides into your inbox with a rose between my teeth* hii. i'm asking you to consider: scarian, but one of them is some kind of a fucked up creature and the other is Just Some Guy learning many new things about themselves (*cough*monsterfucker*coughcough*). can be either people-eating vex Scar or biblically accurate Grian, both are fun in their own ways :3c
(don't feel obliged to write anything if it's not your thing, im just sharing my brainworms with u)
tripped and fell and wrote 3.5k. and there's probably gonna be more. whoops.
welcome to rem and szad's monsterfucker au. i told myself the whole time i was writing this that it wasn't going to be called that. here we are.
[]
Grian was never great at running.
He didn't have any shoes. His feet slipped, hands scraping the ground while his heart punched his chest in earnest. He just needed to be fast enough to get away, it didn't matter where, everywhere was better than here. He couldn't take the Watchers anymore, he couldn't take--
The heavy shackle on his ankle suddenly yanked taunt, and it was too late. He was pinned, dragged, and despite his struggles and screams brought back into the very place he was trying to escape.
"Traitors don’t get to leave.” The Watcher holding him said, serene.
Grian spit in their face.
It didn't seem to even faze them. “We tried so hard to rehabilitate you.”
Grian recognized where they were going and his heart dropped like a dead weight. Instead of continuing to struggle, he clamped his mouth shut and breathed heavily through his nose. If he screamed the whole way down, the monster would know he was coming.
This seemed to amuse the Watcher, who pulled Grian by his bound wrists and brought him to the pit. It was covered in cross-hatched metal, a small latch to drop the food down.
Grian was the food.
"Please." Grian said, a terrified whisper. "Don't."
"Will you cooperate now?"
“No.”
“Then you are no use to us.”
Fear pounded louder than his heart and against all sense he tried to flee one last time. Only to be wrenched immediately when the Watcher yanked the chain on his ankle, swinging him down with a stomach-swoop of momentum into the pit.
Grian landed face first into the dirt, teeth splitting his lip. A broken cry, curling around his bound hands that cut into his stomach. The latch shut with a resounding clang of metal, echoing in a haunting repetition. The Watcher mercilessly strode away and left Grian to his fate.
Silence. All Grian could hear was the pounding of his own heart and his ragged breath. Somewhere within the dark was the Vex. They kept him to dispose of any bodies, but there hadn't been any for a while. Here was his next meal, dribbling blood into the dirt.
Grian was so fucked. He pushed up on his aching hands, raising his head. No visible signs. Just dirt and the geometric squares cut from the only light source above. He dragged himself to the nearest wall, for the fallacy of protection, pulling his knees up and burying his face in his knees and waited for death.
Shivering. Quiet. Death didn't come. The pain and ache of leftover adrenaline. Grian raised his head, looking into the darkness of the pit. There was nothing.
He trembled, struggling for air, and his heart skipped a beat, then redoubled in fervour. On the opposite side of the pit, in the shroud of darkness, a pair of white eyes stared at him.
"I'm sorry to disturb you." Grian said, delirious, terrified. "Please don't eat me. I promise I'm not tasty."
A piercing white stare, not even so much as a blink. The hairs on the back of Grian's neck stood up.
"I'll just stay over here, and you'll stay over there, and we won't bother each other. Okay?" Grian said, slow, voice fabricating calm.
The eerie glowing eyes didn't move.
"Great." Grian hid his face back in his knees.
The silence almost seemed to reverberate around him, motionless airwaves prickling and pushing against his skin. There was a flood of blood down his chin from his lip, stinging with the dirt from his fall. Even if Grian wanted to do something about it, his hands were bound and there was a fucking Vex watching him from the other side of the pit.
The reminder restarted his panic. Grian looked up again and the eyes were gone. That was somehow worse. He frantically looked around but didn't see anything.
"Where did you go?" Grian put a voice to his panic, because he talked when he was nervous. It was a terrible habit and it was imminently going to get him killed.
Then white eyes appeared, directly across from him in the darkness. Grian swallowed a cry, and said, "Hey, you're not going to eat me, right?"
The heavy silence remained. Then, slow and purposeful, the white eyes blinked.
Grian had never heard the Watchers refer to the Vex as anything but a mindless monster. However, Grian found that he did not agree with them on most things. Maybe this was just another thing.
"They suck, huh?" Grian said, bravely, pointed up through the metal grate. "They treated me like shit too. I'm sorry they've locked you in this pit, it's not very nice."
The white eyes didn't blink again. But Grian was on a roll, and he pretty much always figured he'd die running his mouth anyway.
He continued, "I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but they want you to kill me. So if you hate them like I do, I'd suggest not killing me. Then maybe we can see if there's a way to break out of here instead. Sound like a plan?"
That horrible, compressing silence. Grian bore it with as much grace as he could muster, pretending to be a lot more confident than he was. After an eon, the white eyes blinked again.
"Brilliant." Grian smiled, wobbly. "My name's Grian, what's yours?"
The white eyes vanished. Grian's heart dropped, but he didn't react, licking his lips and tasting pennies. Feeling cold from the drain of adrenaline, heart stuck in an uneven cadence.
A whisper beside him. Grian jumped, despite trying to keep his cool, and almost fell over in surprise.
The Vex was big. He was almost spectral, translucent, an ephemeral electric blue except for his white eyes, a heavy collar around his neck, and off-coloured scars intersecting over his form. His shape was mostly vague, with claws sharp like knives and more teeth than a mouth should fit.
"Hello." Grian said, tight, terror woven into his bones. "You're awfully close. I like my personal space."
The Vex hovered a moment, then moved back just a touch.
Hope sparked in Grian's chest. That meant something. He said, "Thank you, I appreciate it."
The Vex raised a giant hand and pointed to a large noticeable scar on his own face.
Grian stared at him, the point of his claw, mind not quite keeping up. He was still focused on the 'not being eaten' thing.
Then the Vex mouthed a word. No sound, but the faint attempt of showing a spectral tongue on the roof of his mouth. It could've been 'name'. Then he pointed to the scar again.
Everything about the situation became rapidly very different than what Grian had been thinking. He was not dealing with a mindless monster. He was dealing with someone who had a name, and that name was Scar.
"Your name is Scar." Grian said, with a touch of wonder.
Both white eyes shut. It took Grian a moment to realize the Vex was attempting a smile.
"Hello Scar." Grian said. "You understand me?"
A careful nod. Keeping a safe distance away.
"Can you speak?"
Scar shook his head. Those huge claws touched the collar around his throat.
"Oh no, that's awful." Grian leaned forward on his bound hands to look closer in the darkness. "What have they done to you?"
A visible hesitation, then that razor sharp claw reached towards him, half-curled, and pointed at Grian lip.
"Oh." Grian tried to wipe away the blood on his chin, using his wrist since his hands were still bound. "I pissed them off. I was trying to get away. Didn't work, obviously."
The Vex made a breathy noise and turned away. He floated along, disappearing into the darkness, but a moment later the white eyes flashed in waiting. That same breathy noise, like a summon.
Grian figured he had little to lose at this point. He struggled to his feet, the chain on his ankle dragging on the ground as he limped forward. He followed the Vex into the darkness, where his eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. In the corner the pit was more like a cave, with a running source of water pooling and draining out into the small cracks in the rock.
But it was running water. Grian knelt beside it and drank, throat dry and coated in copper. Then he tried to wash off all the blood from his face and clean his lip. It hurt like hell, stinging, and his bound hands didn't make it easy.
He had an audience of one, the two pricks of white watching him. He tried to shake his self-consciousness, reminding himself over and over that he had to stay calm. He had been given no reason to be afraid.
Scar came closer, and it was hard to stand beside the Vex because his presence was much larger, even when not solid. Grian felt his breath clog his throat, the ephemeral shape of a hand reaching towards his.
"What's up?" Grian asked, as the claws touched his wrist, pulling just a little. "Oh, okay."
He held his bound wrists out. Scar barely twitched his sharp claw and the ropes shredded, the bits falling to the floor.
Grian rubbed his red-ringed skin and looked at the destroyed rope, a little ill and intimidated. The Vex was that powerful, claws that sharp.
"Thank you." Grian said, carefully. "Do you want me to see if I can get your collar off?"
Scar didn't reply, but didn't move away either. Grian carefully reached up to pull on the metal, finding no visible seam. He frowned and muttered, "They must've got it on somehow."
Scar made a motion, like turning a key in a lock. Grian found the keyhole on the back of his neck and sighed.
"Sorry, I can't be more help." Grian said. "If only I had tools. I'm a great lockpick."
A low sound that Grian couldn't determine was good or bad. He stepped back from his inspection of the collar and gave Scar space, instead kneeling to inspect the chain around his own ankle. There was little they could do for that either, and Grian suspected it had tracking magic imbued in it -- the only reason he could think that they caught him leaving so quickly. If they were to attempt an escape a second time, he'd need it off first, just like they needed Scar's collar off.
"Let me think." Grian announced, and began to pace. He inspected the corners of the pit, looking at the narrow corners, the only exit being the overhead heavy metal grate. He stood underneath and stared up, heart drumming his carotid artery as he considered how fucking ridiculous the situation was. Then he walked to the other side, where Scar had been watching him initially. There was a corner, shadowed in darkness. And the dirt and rock were covered in discarded clothes -- blood stained and ripped.
Grian knew that they were from bodies Scar would've consumed and he chose to ignore that for his own sanity at the moment. Since it was the only other thing inside the pit, he began to rifle through the nest, picking up the socks and jackets to see if they had anything helpful in the pockets.
Scar appeared at his side again, a small growl.
Grian had a death wish, apparently. He held both hands up and said, "Sorry, should've asked before I just started going through your stuff. I'm just looking for anything that can help us escape. I want both of us to get out of here, okay?"
The sharpness in the white eyes backed off a little. Scar turned his head away, huffing.
"I appreciate it." Grian told him. Then returned to his task.
There was nothing useful in the pockets, they were mostly shredded beyond usefulness. He almost gave up before he found a jacket that had its sleeve held together by pins.
"Perfect." Grian breathed, a light of hope in his chest.
Grian separated the pins and kinked the metal into a more useful shape. He stuck a couple extras in his mouth and said around them, "I can try and get that off for you."
Scar didn't move. Grian climbed out of the nest and approached, the chain on his ankle dragging as he moved.
"I'm not sure if it'll work." Grian told him, holding up the pins, spitting the rest from his mouth into his hand to show. "But I'm reasonably confident I can try. Okay?"
White eyes stared. Grian had no idea what the Vex was thinking -- if this would be the moment he'd decide to turn on him, or if it was just a lack of trust. That was understandable, he didn't know Grian.
But he could pick a lock better than anyone. He waved the pins, raising an eyebrow, offering. Scar finally turned around and let Grian access the back of his collar.
It wasn't an easy lock. It was tiny, and Scar was tall so he had to reach up to work on it.
"Could you get lower for me?" Grian said, when he couldn't get the angle he needed.
Scar cast a look at him over his shoulder, glowing white, a long contemplative pause. Then his spectral figure knelt on the floor.
It was very helpful. Grian had a much better approach to the lock, and with three different pins jabbed into the collar as he worked the tumblers, he managed to pick it open. There was a hissed release, the metal thudding against the dirt.
"Yes!" Grian cheered, stomach flipping with success. He said, "Is that better?"
The Vex was still kneeling. A long, clawed finger reached out to touch the collar split on the floor. A breathy sound, almost like a laugh. Then the light surrounding him faded, and his figure solidified.
Grian's throat caught in surprise, taking a step back. The shaped glow softened into tattered wings on his back, becoming a tall man with bluish grey skin and hair. Eyes still snow-white, but now fanned with lashes and eye crinkles. Pointed ears, teeth still sharp, nails pointed to claws, but otherwise Scar had a real form, one might mistake for a person if you were dumb enough to ignore all the signs that he was incredibly dangerous.
Still on his knees, Scar raised his chin to Grian and said in a very unused rasp, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Grian replied, dumbfounded. He hadn't been expecting that. He watched the long whip tail flicker. The same scars crossing his face in the spectral form carried over to the flesh one.
"You should get that off too." Scar said, pointing to the shackle on Grian's ankle.
"Yeah, right. Of course." Grian gathered up all the pins he'd dropped, forgetting entirely that Scar wasn't the only one trapped. "You were stuck like that?"
"Mhm." Scar stood, stretching with a long pull, like a very big dangerous cat. The tattered wings expanded to their full wingspan and it just about took Grian's breath away.
"How long?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Longer than I'd like to admit." Scar said, and turned to give Grian a smile with his many teeth. "You're an angel."
"Pleasure." Grian replied, throat dry. Oh no, he had a deathly good charm. He ducked his reddening face to focus on trying to accomplish the same feat for himself.
Scar stalked the length of the pit while Grian worked. He stood underneath the grate and stared up into the light, a frown on his face, tail flicking irritably behind him.
"Are they going to come back for you?" Scar asked.
"They were hoping you'd kill me." Grian reminded him.
"They usually just drop dead bodies in here. And I eat them because it's not like they're getting any deader. But I wasn't going to attack you if you weren't a threat." Scar told him, cavalier.
"They think you're a monster so they will assume I'm dead."
"I am a monster." Scar smiled, all his horrible teeth on display. "But not the kind they want. What did they do to you?"
Grian thought about the cell he'd been locked in, the problems he'd caused himself, the disciplines and punishments and gaslighting over long periods. The chilled smiles and bruises around his wrist. He said, "What didn't they do?"
"I'll kill them for you." Scar offered.
Grian dropped the pin he was trying to hold. He said, "I don't need you to do that. I just want to get out of here."
"We can do that." Scar said.
It was stupid, but Grian's hands were shaking and he couldn't manage to get his own shackle off. He exhaled, mind running a mile ahead of him, and placed the pins on the floor for a minute to calm down.
"Am I scaring you?" Scar asked.
"No. Yes. I'm just having a very long day." Grian rubbed his bruised wrists, feeling every beat of his heart throughout his whole body, but especially his split lip. It was bleeding again, sluggish and slow, and he kept sucking the swollen thing and making it worse.
"Grian, you said your name was?" Scar stopped roving the length of the pit and came to sit beside him. Legs tucked underneath him. He had an old dusty coat and tight pants but no shirt and no shoes. Even with the bluish grey hue, he had a very nice chest. It was currently eye level and Grian made an effort to lift his chin and look Scar in the eye. A ringed white iris pinned back at him, searching his face.
Grian swallowed, "Yeah. Was I right? Scar?"
"That's me." Scar smiled, a little crooked, a peak of fangs, and it was hopelessly endearing.
Grian felt his heart beat harder, and this time the fear entangled with something else incredibly complicated. His mouth was dry. His sense was left somewhere else.
"How'd you end up here?" Scar inquired, picking up the pins off the floor and offering them to Grian, urging him to continue trying to free himself.
Trembling fingers took the pins and he ducked over his leg as he worked, hair covering his face. He said, annoyed, "They took me from my home. I don't know how long ago it was now. They were trying to get me to become one of them. It didn't take. What about you?"
"Wrong place, wrong time, I guess. I was overconfident that I couldn't be caught. They had more power than I considered." Scar said, shooting an annoyed look at the collar discarded on the ground.
"They're annoyingly resourceful." Grian agreed. The pin he was working with broke and he swore. He took a minute to dislodge the broken piece and manipulate a new pin into the right shape. Scar watched him work, eyes tracking, contemplative. Then Grian managed to get that satisfying click and eagerly shook the shackle off.
"But you are more resourceful than them." Scar praised.
Grian helplessly flashed a smile, shaky, and bent over his knee to breathe. He said, "Can I just have a bit to rest before we go? I'm so tired."
Scar shrugged, tattered wings flexing behind his shoulders. "Won't make a difference either way. They think you're dead and they don't visit me."
Grian nodded dazedly and moved to sit in the horrible nest of dead people's clothes, back against the wall and trying to breathe. He hadn't realized how much a weight the shackle was until it was gone, the binding magic disappearing into the air. They couldn't track him anymore. They couldn't contain Scar. A couple metal pins from the people the Watcher's had killed would be the same thing that freed them.
Rest wouldn't be easy with all the jittering adrenaline. He eyed the grate, with the light going pale with the growing night. He said, "They don't visit?"
"They do not." Scar agreed, moving and kicking the shackle idly as he passed, coming to sit beside Grian. "But if today is the day that changes, I will be awake to alert you."
Grian swallowed. He was drained and heavy. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, if he should've just pushed through.
Scar sensed his hesitation and tipped his head towards him. "Grian, you have given me back my voice and my physical form. I will protect you with my life."
That was a solemn vow, a painful one, a dangerous one. To have the favour of a monster.
"Soon we will have our freedom too. But it has been a very long day for you, and you need your strength. Rest and I will keep an eye out for anyone who seeks to harm you." Scar promised, shifting and lifting a leathery wing in offer.
Grian stared at him, unsure, but emboldened by his words. He carefully leaned into Scar's side and let the wing shield him, wrapping him in warmth.
He shut his eyes, body hyperaware, tense and waiting for something. Nothing came. He breathed carefully in and out, as the warmth seeped into his skin, as Scar's watchful eye protected him, and sleep felt like he was giving away something. Something vulnerable and coveted. He would never use the word trust, not after what he'd been through. But there wasn't a better word coming to mind.
Sleep was spotty and uneven, and came with a very distinct feeling of being chased, even if the images didn’t solidify into such. But everytime his mind came to the surface, the secure wrap of the wing around him bathed his mind in reassurance.
...
if/when i finish part 2, i may just post the whole thing to ao3. spirit willing.
10 with Leo and Raph would be so interesting. (Thought I can't really picture either of them saying somthing that mean to eachother, so maybe mystics are involved?)
I hope you have a nice day!
great minds think alike y'all. thanks @bluemoonsymphonies and anon for the prompt! i hope u both enjoy....
wordcount 1k, pre-movie
10. "Please... what am I doing wrong?" "What aren't you doing wrong?!"
Leo’s throat hurt.
Just add it to the list of bullshit that Raph was doing to him. Because there was absolutely no reason that Raph had to come and interrupt him while he was snoozing on the bean bag. Like, this lecture could’ve totally waited until later. Maybe after Leo had gotten some fucking sleep.
“You’re not taking this seriously!” Raph said.
“You could not be more of a broken record if you tried, Rapha.” Leo hadn’t gotten up from the bean bag and suffocated a yawn into his fist. He was tired of the grating arguments and he was tired, just bone tired of the fighting for no reason. And tired in general. Because his head was so loud and when he laid down to sleep there was just… screaming there too.
“That’s because you’re not listening to me.” Raph poked him right between the eyes. “I gotta drill it in that empty head somehow.”
Leo twitched. That was a bit harsh, especially since it wasn’t a gentle poke. He was feeling a little ganged up on and crawled out of the bean bag to stand his ground, crossing his arms. “Yeesh, tell me how you really feel.”
“I think you’re lazy and unmotivated.” Raph scoffed. “We’ve got so much we could be doing and you’re sleeping in the middle of the day.”
Leo… paused. Stared at his brother with a bit of hurt shock. He was really coming at him, no holds barred. He held up his hands in surrender and said, “And wow, I think you’re a huge jerk. What the hell, dude? For your information, I barely slept last night, so get off me.”
Something flickered in Raph’s eyes. But it didn’t stay. He scoffed again, louder and more derogatory, raising up his lip to sneer with his snaggletooth. “You’re not even trying.”
“Wow.” Leo repeated. Hands still raised, skin goosebumping, a chill from the undisguised scorn. This was different from the usual annoyed arguing. This was … mean. “Okay. Please, let's hear it. What am I doing wrong, then?”
“What aren't you doing wrong?” Raph spat back, chest heaving. Genuine anger sung hot and heavy.
Leo stared. This sounded a lot like the inside of his own head. Which didn't make sense, because that wasn't Raph. He pushed and he pushed but he was never like this. Not his Raph. Not his lovable big lug of a brother who truly only wanted the best for all of them.
“Nothing to say?” Raph tilted his head to the side. His eyes were rather blank, now that Leo was making painful eye contact with him.
“Are you feeling okay?” Leo prompted.
Raph blinked rapidly, surprised, then shook his head. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who's a problem here."
"Yeah, something is definitely wrong." Leo stepped forward, cataloguing other symptoms as he went. "You give me a hard time, you piss me off, and you nag me. But you're never, ever mean. So what gives?"
Raph was sweating. Not any of his usual sweat, not a scent Leo could pinpoint with scary accuracy. Something unheard of. When Leo got closer, he could see the pin-pricked pupil and too-quick breathing. He practically growled at Leo as he got close.
"Relax." Leo smiled, charming, getting another step closer to the lion's den. Flickering his gaze over Raph to try and find some kind of clue. "I get you, I know you want me to try, etc etc. But you wouldn't just brush past me telling you I hadn't slept, because you know I hate being honest about that. You'd be beating my ass with a pillow to go to bed then and try again in the morning. So either you've been possessed by a demon or cursed. Which is it?"
"I'm not –" Raph lurched forward.
But Leo had already spotted it. He pinched the little bug between his thumb and forefinger and pulled – a parasitic scarab bit down into the skin of his neck. The moment it left Raph's body, the little pincers wiggled agitatedly in the air, and Leo surveyed the bug with a distasteful eye.
Raph inhaled sharply, hand flying to his neck, and took two staggering steps backwards. He breathed, "What the fuck."
Leo waved the evil little beetle at him. "Did you piss off someone? Maybe walk through a magical rainforest?"
"I – I – " Raph's face morphs into one of pure horror. "I'm so sorry."
"Aw, buddy." Leo opened a portal and flicked the beetle through it, sending the fucker to the moon. Then he waved it away and opened his hands in offer. "It's okay. I know you better than that."
Raph scooped him up in a hug so tight it took his breath away. He squeezed and squeezed and Leo bore it with the patience of someone who'd been a teddy bear for this man many a time.
"It's okay." Leo mumbled to him.
"Not really." Raph replied, miserable.
"You didn't mean it." Leo shrugged.
The arms around him tightened. Raph shuddered a breath.
"Okay, maybe you meant it a little bit." Leo amended, because it wasn't like this conversation was new. Just the vitriol at which he spat it. "But bud, I know you're not coming at me to hurt me. I'd never think that. You're literally doing this because you want me to be my best. I'm not stupid. I'm just really, really good at acting like it."
Raph pulled back enough to show his red eyes. "Then why won't you work with me here?"
Leo couldn't say, because I'm scared my best isn't good enough. Instead he pat his big brother's arm and said, "Let's get you checked out and make sure that beetle didn't cause any lasting effects, hey?"
"Leo–" Raph growled.
Too late. Leo eeled out of his grip and danced away, waving over his shoulder. "Come on, chop chop, I don't have all day you know."
I'm reading firefight right now, and every time nyan cat is mentioned it plays in my head repeatedly, and every time it stops there is another mention and it starts again. You're a monster ❤️
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The rest of his brothers had rather blunt objects, not including the rather dangerous end to Mikey's kusari-fundo. But Leo carried with himself, every minute of the day, not one but two sharp katanas. He didn't think much of it when they were younger.
But he sure was thinking a lot about it now.
Not like. On purpose. His brain was just a god damn mess after… well. Everything. All his failures lined up in a neat little row. The invasion. All the things that seemed to quite cleanly show everyone he cared about exactly what Hamato Leonardo was made of.
It wasn't a pretty show. No encore.
The swords were always at his side. The glint of the blade in sunlight and the cold lick of metal at night. He'd begun to trace the sharp length with the pads of his fingers, feeling the crisp edge. Idly, without much thought, almost meditative. Not even with enough pressure to prick his fingers.
The promise was enough, just to feel, like stroking the teeth of a beast. There was a bite underneath, if provoked. There was potential. Locked jaw, latched into place, never letting go.
Leo wasn't going to do anything. That would be stupid. He was supposed to be trying to be better, not worse. His weapons were the manifestation of his love for his family. How fucked up would it be to hurt himself with that?
… how fitting ...
Not that Leo was going to do that. He was merely curious the amount of weight and pressure required to truly injure someone with his weapon. It was an important thing to know, since he was carrying the things around all the time.
When it was six AM in the morning and he hadn't slept a wink, laying awake and pressing his fingertips on the blade over and over and over and over, just to listen to the promise, just to feel the sing of metal through the small bones of his hand – somewhere in the lack of sleep and the late-turned-early haze, it seemed like a good idea. He pressed that sharp edge braced between both hands against the usually hidden top of his thigh, and pushed.
Not hard. It made a very thin line. A phantom sting, the appetizer of pain, not even enough to register beyond paper-cut levels. The perfect line looked… well. Like it had been there all along, and Leo was just revealing where it was supposed to be.
The second attempt was no longer curiosity. He couldn't pretend, when the angle and the pressure spoke of only one thing. Leo wanted to make it hurt.
And it hurt. It bled. He swore, a headrush of sudden understanding, that pain existed right under his skin, he just had to dig it out.
Leo dug it out. He dug it out. He dug it out.
Maybe there was penance, in the blood seeping from his skin, if he could bleed away sins and replenish into something new. Maybe there was a pledge, in each attempt, like this time it might fix something about him that everyone knew was broken. Maybe there was punishment, because it hurt.
There was a rush, each time, a chasing feeling. But it did not negate the pain, or the momentary fear replaced by hope, terrible hope. Maybe this time it was too much. How awful and wonderful that would be?
Leo hated the swords, almost rusting with how often he had to run alcohol wipes along the surface to clean them. How impractical they were, when he ran out of surface area to reach without being caught on his legs and had to switch to his arms underneath his wrist guards. Trying to balance the long edge of a sword one-handed and give enough pressure to hurt like it was really meant to was such an incredibly hassle. But it was all part of the lie Leo was telling himself, that this sword, the proof of his connection to his family, had always been a blade because it was meant to hurt himself. To carve him into something better. If only he pushed hard enough.
Which led to here. Hiding in the bathroom on the floor, trying to find a way to balance his sword for three minutes of release before he returned to the world where he was a fuck-up and a failure, where Raph's eye and Donnie's shell and Mikey's hands were far, far worse off than a few little cuts. Penance. Pledge. Punishment. He breathed shakily, anticipating and anxious for it. Hating that it had turned to carving, like he should be allowed to want. But unable to stop. Perfectly sharp blade humming, the manifestation of his family's love. How apt, how real, how true. Leo set his wrist against the braved edge and prepared to draw across the surface like the graceful bow of a violin.
"What are you doing?" A soft voice said.
Leo stopped. No, delayed. He flicked his eyes up, body taunt, and saw…
Little legs swinging back and forth. A curious young face leaning over to see better, eyes round underneath red stripes too big for his face. Cheeks still with baby fat, fingers gripping the counter he was sitting on. Hamato Leonardo, or at least, a memory of what he used to be. A child.
"Go away." Leo told the hallucination, and turned his back. He pulled the blade and the pain sung so loud.
The child gasped. "Ow!"
Blood. Leo flexed his fingers to activate the muscles in his arm. A dizzy feeling prickled hot waves from the top of his head downwards. Momentary perfection. Then reality soaked back in, and he readied the blade again.
"No! Hey!" The young Leo hopped down from the counter and inserted himself in front of his senior, visage hazy but upset. "Stop that!"
Leo grit his teeth. His hand shook. He said, more pointed, "Leave."
"No!" Little Leo stomped his foot, bottom lip wobbling. "I won't! You have to stop! Why are you doing this?"
Leo laughed, cold. The answer to that question would hurt more than what he was about to do. So he sliced again, slow and purposeful.
And Little Leo … wailed. Put tiny hands over his face and sobbed. "That hurts! It hurts!"
Blinking rapidly, Leo watched the new blood appear. Almost dripped on the bathmat before he dabbed with paper towel. There was a burning behind his eyes. Faraway emotions, looking in through a foggy window, pointing out strangers in a crowd.
His skin prickled. Lightheaded. Heart picking up the pace, tripping over itself, sta-sta-stammering. Almost dazed, desperate for another moment of clarity and release, to chase and chase and chase, dog after its own tail, the blade of love and torment against his skin, and –
"No!" Little Leo scrambled closer, face twisted with ugly tears, pleading, "Please stop hurting me. Please. Please stop."
Leo's hand shook. His breath caught.
"It hurts." The child told him, hiccuping on uncontrollable sobs. "Please, it hurts. Stop. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please."
His grip trembled. The blood welled and the crisp edge promised its pretty lies.
"Please stop hurting me." Little Leo whispered. Young and sweet and innocent and right here. Right here. Never went anywhere.
The katana was set down with care. Leo drew his bleeding arm to his chest and heaved for air. He grabbed his supplies but wrapped them with far more care than he ever had before. Shushing quietly between gasps for air, promising, "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. You're okay."
The small space was quiet. The bathmat spotted with flecks of blood. Leo clutched his arm and rocked back and forth, soothing. Self-soothing. He hummed a lullaby, and shut his eyes, waiting for the after-image to fade.
thank you my beloved @bluesgras for the prompt!!! big hugs mate hope you like it :D
wordcount 1.1k, pre-series
16. "You were calling out, in your sleep. You said my name."
The scream cut off as soon as Mikey realized it was coming from his own throat, choking on the sound, hands pushing back against the touch that was shaking him awake. Immediately the touch disengaged, and it was Donnie's voice that said, "You are safe, Angelo. You are having a nightmare."
That made a lot more sense. Pulling ragged breaths through a sore throat, Mikey blinked the stars out of his eyes and hunched over. After a moment, Donnie shuffled and turned the lamp on. The light helped the pulsing terror that sat heavy on his chest. It brought the silhouette of his big brother into the light, the frayed long-sleeve sleep shirt that said 'I identify as a problem' and bare feet against the carpet. No goggles or even mask, looking like he'd just woken up moments ago.
"I'm sorry." Mikey rasped, swallowing hard. The panic was living inside him, making it hard to think, but he knew that Donnie didn't like to be disturbed. "Did I wake you up?"
Donnie hesitated. Pulling at the end of his sleeve, thumbing the holes there. He said, "You were calling out, in your sleep."
Mikey winced. "Sorry. Thanks for waking me up. You can go back to bed now."
Donnie didn't. He stood there, then said, "You said my name."
Oh. Mikey's stomach dropped hard and fast as he remembered his dream, and he bit his lip. All the denials fell short before forming, because… he was really glad that Donnie was here right now, actually.
Donnie gestured awkwardly to the bed. "Do you want me to join you?"
"You don't have to." Mikey said immediately.
"If I didn't want to, then I wouldn't offer." Donnie said, promptly.
That was true. Mikey shuffled over to give him room, tugging the blankets along to keep them separate. Except that Donnie ignored that, reaching over to flap the rumpled blankets over both of their legs. Then he perfectly arranged the pillows to sit up, turning to look at Mikey in the lamp-light. He said, "I don't like the thought that something about me would upset you that much. Tell me what the issue is, and I will fix it."
Mikey gave him a laugh, a little wet, and swiped at his eyes. "You don't upset me, D. Don't worry about it."
Donnie fixed him with a look that would work a lot better with his painted-on brows, but luckily Mikey knew him well enough to fill in the arched incredulity even without them. "Michelangelo, you are my only little brother. I reserve exclusive right to worry about you every minute of the day if I so please. And especially if you are roused in the middle of night with screaming nightmares."
Mikey sniffed miserably, giving his eyes another futile swipe. He wasn't crying so much as all stuffed up and uncomfortable, like he was bloated with unwelcome emotions. "Just because someone's younger doesn't mean they can't worry about their older siblings."
Donnie leaned forward so he was in Mikey's line of sight, and gave a crooked smile. "Heavens, don't you dare be worried about me."
"I can if I want." Mikey insisted, jutting up his chin, but then hesitating. "That wasn't… that wasn't why, though."
"Oh?" Donnie stayed persistently in his line of sight, even ducking his head to keep his gaze when Mikey tipped it downwards. "Do tell."
Mikey struggled with keeping it inside, mouth wobbling, but he'd never been good at holding back. Not when there was always so many sets of hands were right there, waiting to give him whatever he wanted. Safety and security and –
"It was dark." Mikey began, because he hated the dark. Everyone knew that. "And – and I couldn't find my way home. There were monsters and – and they were chasing me – and I … I wanted you to come save me."
Donnie eyes went wide, jaw going slack, and he said, surprised, "Me?"
Mikey nodded, tears welling and irritably swiping at his cheeks again to stop them from falling. He sniffed and said, "I was scared. And I wanted you. And then I woke up and you're here, so I feel better."
"Me?" Donnie said again, weaker. "Not Raph? Not Leo? Not Dad? Me?"
"You're my big brother too." Mikey said, soft. "You just said that."
"Yeah, but there's no way I'm better than –" Donnie cut himself off and shook his head. "Of course I'm an amazing big brother, but for like – fixing your things and reading stories and hiding with you when everyone else is being stupid. Not the one you want when the monster is chasing you."
Mikey headbutted him, somewhere between playful and hard enough to hurt. "Except you are. Are you saying you wouldn't help me if a monster was chasing me?"
"Of course I would." Donnie rubbed his forehead, frowning. "I would absolutely anything I could to protect you. But I am not the most optimal choice for this situation."
Mikey shrugged. "I don't know. My subconscious wanted you."
Donnie bit his lip, looking a little emotional himself. He opened his arms, and Mikey crawled into them without any hesitation. All tight limbs around his big brother, who made him feel so safe, so secure, so loved.
His grip was strong, and Donnie pressed their heads together. He mumbled in Mikey's ear, "I suppose subconscious knows that you are my precious baby brother and if you call for me, I will come. And I will do everything I can, even if I need to destroy everyone and everything to keep you safe."
"Leo said you're not allowed to do villain monologues past midnight anymore." Mikey said, muffled by Donnie's shirt.
Donnie's laugh was just a little evil. "Oh, darling Michelangelo. Your faith in me will never be mislaid. I would burn cities and salt the earth for you. I would tear apart the laws of the universe and rewrite new ones at your bidding. I would – stop laughing!"
Mikey couldn't help it, giggling helplessly, clutching the fabric and pressing close for the comfort it provided. His heart swelled with care, that incredibly special kind of care that only Donnie could provide. He said, the tears nearly gone from his voice, all his fears wiped away like chalk off a blackboard, "I love you so so much."
"Mmmm." Donnie hummed against the top of his head, rocking them back and forth slightly, like he was cradling Mikey. It lit something young and safe inside him. "I love you for every single star in the universe."
"How many is that?" Mikey whispered.
"At least two hundred billion-trillion." Donnie replied, instant and smug.
"Well I love you three hundred billion-trillion." Mikey said.
Donnie gasped, mock-affronted. "Gasp! How could I be so foolish!"
Mikey giggled again, boneless against his big brother, the gentle rock back and forth, the warm blankets, and he was so, so glad he called for Donnie.
for the writing ask meme: disaster twins bc i am nothing if not predictable aaaaand ur pick of 8, 22, 29 or 42 if u would like :3
thank you my dearest russothy @rbtlvr for the prompt! this got away from me and also went in so many different directions lmao... snugs hope you like it :D
wordcount 2.7k, pre-series
22. "...you knew?"
29. "Tell me the truth."
"I've definitely got a unicorn horn." Leo said, holding up the puzzle piece.
"Which one?" Donnie propped up the box lid.
The two inspected, comparing the angle with the reference, covered in a multitude of unicorns.
"Hard to tell." Leo set the piece aside, with his other collection of possible key points. They'd only just finished the border, spread out the bedroom floor. They were twelve years old. They were both grounded. They were absolutely and intolerably bored.
No TV. No phones. No lab time for Donnie, no skateboarding time for Leo. No amount of pleading with Raph or Mikey to smuggle them entertainment worked because they weren't happy either.
So it was the unicorn puzzle. And any other way they could pass the time.
"It's your turn." Donnie said, flipping over a few middle pieces and sorting them into piles by colour.
"Sure. Truth or dare." Leo plucked another horn-like piece with a pleased noise and tried to slot it with his first. It didn't fit.
"Truth." Donnie said, after a moment.
"Wimp."
"I stand by my answer."
"Fine." Leo sighed, annoyed. "You're no fun. What is the last thing you looked up on the internet?"
"Pssh. Something absolutely genius, I'm sure." Donnie said. "But alas, we will never know, as I do not have my phone on me."
"Hogwash." Leo said, mimicking his voice, "As if your eidetic memory doesn't know. I'm insulted on your own behalf that you would insinuate such a thing."
Donnie mentally ran back through his most recent searches and struggled not to cringe. A victorious smile spread over Leo's face, before he'd even said a word.
"How'd you know it was going to be something stupid?" Donnie complained, ducking his head to pretend to sort his pieces more intently.
Leo tapped his lip, milking his success. "Come on. You've got a thousand bookmarks on your computer for all your nerd stuff and overflowing shelves of paper books and manuals. If you need to Google something, then it's the bottom of the barrel questions."
Donnie mumbled under his breath.
"What's that?" Leo leaned forward over the puzzle, grin growing to shit-eating.
"You heard me." Donnie's face flushed.
"I'm not sure I did, because I'm pretty sure my genius prodigy Donatello knows exactly how many millimetres are in a centimetre."
"I was just making sure!" Donnie complained loudly, snapping a hand out to push at Leo's face and shove him back to his side of the puzzle. "It's my turn now, shut up. Truth or dare?"
"Dare." Leo answered, because he always said dare.
"Shocker." Donnie deadpanned. "Fine. Eat a puzzle piece."
"Okay." Leo picked up the unicorn horn. Before Donnie could stop him, he placed the piece on his tongue, swallowed, and showed a decidedly empty mouth.
"Oh my stars, Leon, I didn't think you'd actually do it." Donnie said, stunned with the heights of his idiocy.
"You dared me." Leo shrugged. "What did you expect?"
"We needed that!"
"You cannot pretend this is my fault. You literally just told me to eat it."
"I hate you. Alright, Curious George, it's your turn."
Leo barked a laugh. He rearranged his collection of unicorn horn pieces, forever missing one now, and said, "Truth or dare?"
"Dare." Donnie wasn't a wimp.
"Bet." Leo hopped up and immediately began digging in a drawer. "Close your eyes. Don't open them until I say so."
Instant regret. So much instant regret. Donnie didn't obey, tense all over, watching Leo with wariness.
Leo found whatever he was looking for, keeping it behind his back when he turned around, and said, challenging, "Are you switching?"
If Donnie switched to truth, Leo would ask something really awful, and he'd have no choice but to answer as penalty. So Donnie scoffed, like that was a ridiculous question, and shut his eyes.
Leo’s footsteps got closer and he sat in front of Donnie. He said, calm and mischievous, “I’m going to touch your face.”
With the warning, he didn’t flinch when Leo carefully removed his mask, placing it in Donnie’s hand. Then there was the sound of an uncapped pen, and a whiff of marker.
“Hold still.” Leo said, fingers bracing Donnie’s head and setting the marker tip to his face, waiting a moment for him to adjust, then began to draw.
“Urgh.” Donnie said, holding still beyond his fingers fidgeting in his lap with the mask, eyes closed but recognizing the movement of the pen in two arcs over either eye.
“There.” Leo said, removing the pen. “We match.”
Donnie opened his eyes to see Leo directly in front of him, something warm and fond before it eased back into gremlin mischief. “Feel beautiful?”
Donnie got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Dark red marker stripes were drawn carefully over his eyes, matching at the face grinning behind him.
He rolled his eyes. He stomped over to the same drawer and said, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Leo said, already taking off his mask.
Donnie found the black marker. “Close your eyes.”
Obediently, Leo shut his eyes, grinning too hard that it caused his forehead to wrinkle while Donnie moved his head around to get the perfect sharp and thick eyebrows. He put genuine effort into making them look good, because Leo had too.
“Done.” Donnie said, releasing his hostage of Leo’s head.
Leo leapt up to the mirror and gave a wolf whistle. “Damn! That’s not bad.”
“I didn’t come here to fuck around.” Donnie replied. Looking at both of them in the mirror he wished he had his phone so he could get a picture. He flashed a peace sign anyway, like they were taking a selfie, and Leo automatically mimicked it. For a moment, he forgot the situation and grinned back at his twin through the mirror.
Then he remembered why they were stuck in a room doing puzzles and dropped the peace sign, shuffling down to sort through the stacks. Leo watched him, the small frown made quite more serious by his impressive brows, then hopped over the half assembled puzzle to his side. “My turn?”
It was an invitation to stop, if Donnie wasn’t feeling it anymore. But it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. “Truth.”
"Do you regret it?"
Donnie glared at him.
Leo stared back at him, completely serious.
"I'm switching. Dare." Donnie said. Whatever horrible thing Leo could concoct would be better than answering that. Even if it meant he had to do it, no matter what.
"Fine." Leo shrugged. "I dare you to tell me the truth."
"That's cheating." Donnie lifted his lip in a sneer.
"Is it?" Leo challenged. There wasn't a specific rule against it.
Donnie didn't answer him, turning to try and poke his various pieces together. Neither of them spoke for a while. The tense atmosphere reigned.
"I regret that I got caught." Donnie said, eventually. "Which probably isn't what I'm supposed to feel."
"So you'd do it again, if you felt you couldn't get caught?" Leo prompted, knuckles white in his lap.
"Only one question. Your turn. Truth or dare."
"Dare."
"I dare you to answer a truth." Donnie said, sharp.
Leo's eyes narrowed. He couldn't claim it was cheating without being a hypocrite and he knew it. He rolled out a slow, "Fine. Ask."
"Why'd you take the fall with me?" Donnie was been dying to ask. Leo hadn't even known what Donnie was up to, and yet he stood in front of Dad and swore he'd been helping.
Leo said, "Pssh, I thought you were gonna ask something hard. So you weren't grounded alone, obviously. And it'd be so boring if I couldn't hang out with you anyway. And so I could bug you about what the hell you were thinking. So. Truth or dare?"
Donnie would eat every piece of this puzzle if he didn't have to answer another truth. "Dare."
"Wimp." Leo said, shark-grin.
"Your standards for cowardice seem to change from moment to moment." Donnie said, mouth dry.
Leo could easily pull the same move and insist he answer a truth, but with the tit-for-tat complete, to abuse the power would break the game. "It's fine. This one'll be real easy," his gaze hardened, "especially since it's what you should've been doing all along. I dare you to take me with you next time."
Donnie exhaled slowly through his nose, swallowing. He avoided Leo's eye, pretending he was super interested in placing his puzzle pieces. "Fine."
"Promise?"
"Yeah, whatever."
He could feel Leo staring at the top of his head. He irritatedly poked a piece in place, the leg of a unicorn, and asked, "Truth or dare?"
"I'll do truth if you do." Leo bargained.
A rare offer. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't help but take the bait. "Deal."
"Perfect. Hit me."
Donnie could tell Leo was already formulating his next question. Unfortunately for him, Donnie got to ask first. "Tell me something you've never told anyone."
Leo grimaced. He didn’t answer for a long minute, eyes visibly ticking back and forth as he thought. Then laughed, a little nervous, and said, "Alright. Okay."
The nerves were interesting. Donnie poked, almost fascinated, "Scared?"
"No, I just –" Leo bit his lip and glanced up, fidgeting with a bunch of sky pieces. He was definitely nervous, breath quickening. "I've wanted to say, actually. So this seems as good a moment as any."
Oh, this was actually serious. Weird. Made weirder by the drawn-on brows. Donnie waited for more information before assuming anything. Leo delayed longer, killing time, and only to falter at Donnie's expression.
"It's uh, not a big deal, but. I figured I should … tell you. That. I'm gay." Leo held his breath at the end of the sentence.
"Right." Donnie nodded.
Leo blinked at him like an owl. "... you knew?"
"I… figured." Donnie evaluated the situation and determined a different reaction was needed, judging by the clear anxiety of Leo's face. This hadn't been what Donnie was expecting, because why would Leo be nervous about his reaction. "I did not consider it worth a second thought. You are my twin. There is nothing about you that I wouldn't accept without question."
"Oh. Okay." Leo inhaled shakily then let it out slowly. "Cool. That's cool. Don't tell anyone else yet, okay?"
"Like you even have to ask." Donnie scoffed. There was a code about these sorts of things, after all, twelve years in the making. He wasn't about to break their sacred bond now. "Do you need a hug?"
Leo crawled directly over the puzzle to climb into Donnie's arms. He squeezed so hard it squashed the air out of his lungs. He mumbled in Donnie's ear, "Thanks."
"I love you. If anyone has a problem with it, send them directly to me." Donnie's grip tightened to the point of Leo letting out an 'oof' too.
"Love you too." Leo gave another squish then pulled back, a puzzle piece stuck to his bare leg. "Your turn."
"Now?" Donnie complained. "After we just had a moment?"
"And we're about to have another moment, bucko." Leo was close enough to poke Donnie directly in the plastron, pretending to be stern even as he was still a little shaky. "Your turn."
"Truth." Donnie sighed, fulfilling his end of the bargain.
"Why'd you do it?" Leo asked, immediate. All young indignation, eyes shining with left-behind hurt, and a more incandescent worry that was mirrored in all the annoyed glares outside their door.
“Scoff.” Donnie avoided his eye. “Surely you do not need to hold me at metaphorical gunpoint to ask that question when you already know the answer. I wanted uranium.”
"That's not why you did it." Leo said, expression all the more severe by the painted brows. He insistently poked Donnie in the middle of his plastron again. "I know you didn't want uranium just to have. There's always a purpose, a plan. Why?"
"Multiple uses." Donnie said, tightly, through clenched teeth. "It doesn't matter. No one wants me to have it because they think I'll give myself radiation poisoning. Because it'll put me on a watch list. Because when I tried to sneak out and meet up with a seller I got caught. So it doesn't matter, because obviously no one here is going to let me."
"You're right about that, because you will give yourself radiation poisoning and sneaking off when you're a twelve-year-old mutant to meet up with some sketchy seller was a terrible idea. That's still not what I'm asking. Why?" Leo said, because despite pretending for everyone else that he was in on it the whole time, he was actually just as opposed as the rest of them at his failed scheme.
Donnie physically pushed Leo away, since he was still so close. "It doesn't matter! Okay! I can't do it, so it doesn't matter!"
"It matters to me. Because I'm asking." Leo insisted, hands braced backwards onto the puzzle and separating out the few pieces they'd gotten together. "It's truth, you have to answer."
"I could switch to dare." Donnie said, annoyed.
"Then I'd dare you to tell me the truth."
"That's cheap and you know it."
Leo just stared at him, still leaning back and waiting. Completely dead set and expectant that Donnie would crack.
"There's nothing more to say." Donnie said, swallowing and feeling how his throat was sore. "I have projects that only a radioactive isotope can satisfy."
"Okay?" Leo prompted. Waiting for the expected info-dump.
"Why do you care?" Donnie snapped. "Weapons. Big, powerful weapons, that would obliterate anyone who dared mess with our family. And – a-and unlimited power. And heat. For our home. Okay? Are you happy? Because we don't to have those things anyway, so it doesn't matter."
Grim triumph washed over Leo's expression, and he leaned forward to ask, "Do you think we'd want that at the expense of your life?"
"I wasn't going to die!" Donnie exclaimed. "And if I have the power to make our lives better, safer, more efficient, shouldn't I take it? Shouldn't I push the laws of the universe to give us everything we deserve when we're trapped underground like rats?"
"That stuff is pretty important, but it's not more important than you." Leo said, slowly.
Donnie smacked his hand against the floor and blurted, "That's what I'm good for, so yeah, it is!"
Leo's expression flashed and he gave a low growl. He lunged forward and caught Donnie in a roll, sending the two of them tussling into the dresser. A loud thud made the wall shake. Donnie kicked Leo in the shins. Leo elbowed Donnie in the solar plexus.
"Boys!" Splinter knocked loudly on the door. "No killing each other!"
"Yes Dad!" Donnie and Leo recited together, stalled mid-fight, waiting for the footsteps to disappear before struggling apart.
"What was that for?" Donnie rubbed his plastron, scowling.
"For basing your self worth on what you provide for this family." Leo straight up threw puzzle pieces at him, scattering unicorn bits all over the carpet. "Don't be ridiculous. You're so much smarter than that. If we only let people in because they're useful then I woulda been kicked out years ago."
"That's not true." Donnie protested.
"That's not the point." Leo rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter who's useful or not. You're one of us forever. No take backs. You don't have to superfit the lair with big weapons and make us completely self-sustaining or whatever. Dad only let you start doing upgrades because you were having fun. If you're doing it to earn your place here then I'll burn your lab down."
"It's fun." Donnie said, quickly, because Leo had an affection for fire that should not be tempted. "Fine. I hear you. I will be satisfied with projects that bring me joy and not radiation poisoning. Can we finish this puzzle or did you actually swallow that piece?"
Leo's severe expression melted, and he reached behind Donnie's non-existent ear and revealed the unicorn horn piece flipping over his knuckles. "Looks like you had it rattling around in your big head this whole time."
"Hah. Caught you." Donnie grinned. "If you cheated on that dare now you gotta do one that's twice as bad."
