The father daughter relationship between Raph and Mira in the mutant apocalypse arc gives me such Joel and Ellie from the last of us vibes and it makes me so emotional.
ALSO DONBOT IS THE BEST CHARACTER THIS ARC HES SUCH A CUTIEEEE
to start this off hi I'm Arda but you can call me ceecee or cw idm!
this is my writing blog for a fan fiction I'm working on called TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES: Curse Of The Dullahan, Ceann Tornapa
the story follows Eden an Irish witch who has recently moved to New York with her maternal grandmother Ester, her aunt Margo and her cousin Mairead to aid in the search for a book of shadows that contains an entity that has haunted the women of their bloodline for around 200 years but things get complicated when Eden meets a certain group of quadruplet mutant turtles and their two human friends and allies, Casey Jones and April O'Neil. The group thinks she's a non-fighter. She didn't correct them. Now Eden has to balance school, her mission, her blossoming friendships, her developing feelings for a certain blue masked terrapin and ensuring that the entity doesn't escape.
I wanted to incorporate my country's folklore since I think it's super interesting and I feel like it fits into the world of TMNT very well! the story takes place in the 2012 universe and is in its early stages of development [planning, doing research, formatting etc] I've finished the draft for pre-season one and season one's draft is currently being written!! I'll post bits and pieces on here when I have them.
I'm not sure if this is gonna go anywhere since I tend to get distracted by my other special interests BUT I'm gonna keep going with this for as long as possible I hope you enjoy :3
[ slight NFSW — your attempt to make him all flustered ended up with him dominating you ]
You rolled your shoulders once as you stepped onto the mat, tightening the wraps around your knuckles while the turtles lingered nearby.
“Okay,” Mikey said around a mouthful of chips, “before this starts, I just wanna say I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs.”
Leo sighed from where he leaned against a railing. “Why are you like this?”
“Natural talent.”
Across the room, Raph snorted quietly. That alone almost distracted you. Almost. Because the second he stepped fully into the light of the training area, your focus narrowed dangerously. He was enormous up close. Bigger than any person had a right to be. Broad shoulders wrapped in worn straps, muscles shifting underneath rough green skin scarred from years of fights you probably couldn’t even imagine. Even standing still, he looked dangerous. Like contained violence.
And somehow that only made the tension worse. You had noticed it weeks ago. The staring. The way his hand lingered too long at your waist when helping you over debris during missions. The way your pulse jumped whenever he got in your space. The way Raph suddenly got quieter around you compared to everyone else — except the silence between you never felt awkward.
It felt loaded. Like a wire stretched too tight.
Raph grabbed a pair of sparring gloves and tossed one set toward you. “You sure about this?”
You caught them easily. “What, scared?”
His eyes lifted immediately. There it was again. That look. Dark. Focused. Slow. Not annoyed. Not playful. Just fixed directly onto you in a way that made your stomach tighten before your brain could catch up.
“You asked me not to go easy,” he muttered.
“And I meant it.”
From the side of the room, Donnie looked up from his tablet. “Statistically speaking, this is a terrible idea.”
“Nobody asked, Don.”
“History will remember that I tried.”
You smirked faintly as you stepped onto the mat fully, bouncing lightly on your feet. Raph moved opposite you, cracking his neck once. The movement alone was unfairly attractive. Everything he did somehow looked rough and controlled at the same time.
Leo crossed his arms. “Keep it clean.” Raph looked at him and Leo paused. “…Mostly clean.”
The fight started fast. You lunged first. Raph blocked easily — too easily — your fist hitting his forearm with a dull impact before he twisted sideways and shoved you back just enough to create distance. He was holding back. Obviously. Even now.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Seriously?”
His brow furrowed. “You came at me like a damn squirrel.”
“Bang me properly.”
Mikey choked on a chip somewhere behind you. “OH MY GOD—”
“Not like that,” you snapped. Raph’s mouth twitched. Tiny. Barely there. But you saw it. And that almost annoyed you more.
You rushed him again, faster this time, ducking under his arm before aiming a hit toward his ribs. He caught your wrist before impact. Instantly. Effortlessly. His hand wrapped almost entirely around your forearm.
And everything paused. Not the fight. Not really. But something in the air shifted. Your breathing caught before you could stop it. Raph noticed. You knew he did because his grip tightened just slightly. Not enough to hurt. Enough to feel.
His face was close now. Way too close. You could see tiny scratches over his plastron, the faint rise and fall of his chest, the sharp focus in his eyes as he looked down at you like he was trying very hard to think about literally anything else.
“You’re hesitating,” he said quietly.
You swallowed once. “You wish.”
The next movement happened suddenly. Raph hooked a leg behind yours and sent you crashing onto the mat with a sharp grunt, your back hitting the floor hard enough to knock air from your lungs. Before you could recover, he was already over you, pinning your wrists down instinctively.
The room went silent. Completely silent. Because now everybody else was noticing it too. The tension. The fact neither of you moved immediately.
Raph froze above you. Massive. Warm. Breathing heavier than before. His knees trapped your legs without effort, and the position should have felt ridiculous during training — except it didn’t. Not with the way his eyes locked onto yours afterward.
Your pulse was loud enough to be embarrassing. He leaned closer unconsciously, probably not even realizing he was doing it.
“Still want me not to go soft?” he asked.
His voice came out rougher than usual. You hated how much you liked that.
Your chin lifted slightly despite the heat crawling up your neck. “That all you got?”
Mikey whispered a scandalized, “Oh they wanna kill and kiss each other.”
Leo smacked the back of his head immediately.
Raph finally blinked like he remembered everyone else existed. He released your wrists quickly and stood, offering a hand toward you without speaking. You stared at it for a second. Big hand. Scarred knuckles. Wrapped fingers flexing once impatiently. Then you took it.
Huge mistake.
Because the second he pulled you up, your body collided briefly against his chest from the force, and for one painfully long moment neither of you stepped away. Your hands landed against his plastron automatically. Raph looked down at them. Then at you. The air felt thick. Dangerously thick. And when his thumb brushed against your wrist accidentally — or maybe not accidentally at all — the look he gave you afterward nearly burned straight through you.
“Again,” you said softly.
Raph’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Again.”
The second round started rougher. Not faster. Not louder. Just heavier somehow. Like both of you had stopped pretending this was only about training.
The air in the dojo had changed after that moment on the floor, and everybody knew it. Even Donnie kept glancing up from his tablet every few seconds with visible concern, like he was trying to calculate how long it would take before this turned into either a fistfight or a makeout session.
Probably both.
Raph circled you slowly across the mat, shoulders loose now, eyes fixed directly on you in a way that made it impossible to think straight. He looked almost amused suddenly. Dangerous, but amused. Like he’d finally realized you were pushing him on purpose.
And maybe you were. Your heartbeat still hadn’t recovered from before.
“C’mon,” you muttered, motioning him closer. “Thought you were supposed to be scary.”
“Oh, I am.”
His voice dropped low enough that your stomach flipped instantly. Then he moved. You barely dodged the first grab, twisting away before his arm could catch your waist. The second attempt almost worked — huge hand brushing your side hard enough to make heat spark under your skin — but you ducked under him quickly, using his momentum against him the way Leo had taught you months ago.
Raph hit the mat with a loud thud.
Mikey stood up immediately. “OH SHE GOT HIM—”
“Sit down,” Leo said without taking his eyes off the fight.
You didn’t even fully process what happened until you realized you were on top of him. Actually on top of him. Your knees pinned against either side of his waist, one hand planted on his chest to steady yourself while the other kept his wrist trapped against the mat.
Silence hit the room again. Raph stared up at you. You stared down at him. Neither of you moved.
Honestly, you probably should have gotten off him immediately. That would’ve been the normal thing to do. Smart thing too, considering the fact your thighs were pressed against his sides and his breathing had noticeably changed underneath you.
But then something reckless kicked in. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the fact Raph looked genuinely caught off guard for once.
You smirked slightly, leaning down just enough to stay in his space. “What happened?” you asked softly. “Thought you said you were scary.”
For one glorious second, you genuinely expected him to get flustered. Expected him to look away. Maybe grumble something defensive. Instead, Raph’s expression changed completely. Slowly. That rough little smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. And your confidence immediately became a problem.
“Oh,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly beneath you, “you think you’re real funny now, huh?”
Your pulse jumped. His free hand slid upward suddenly, large palm settling against your thigh like it belonged there. Warm. Heavy. Not moving away.
You sucked in a breath before you could stop yourself. Raph noticed instantly. Of course he did.
“Oh, there it is,” he said quietly, smirk widening.
Mikey made a horrified noise somewhere in the background. “I feel like I’m watching something illegal.”
Donnie adjusted his goggles without looking up. “Biologically speaking, this was inevitable.”
“Can everybody shut up?” Leo muttered.
You ignored them completely because Raph’s hand was still on your thigh. And now your hand was still on his chest. You could feel how solid he was underneath you — the rise and fall of his breathing, the heat radiating off him, the faint flex of muscle every time your weight shifted slightly in his lap.
His lap. God.
You forced yourself to stay cocky anyway. Leaning a little closer, you tilted your head. “You gonna tap out?”
Raph laughed once under his breath. Actually laughed. It was low and rough and unfairly attractive. Then, without warning, both his hands landed on your waist. Your breath caught hard. Because unlike before, this time it wasn’t instinctive sparring contact. This was deliberate.
His fingers spread slowly against your sides, huge enough that he could practically hold your entire waist in place with no effort at all. The grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to make the power difference painfully obvious. And Raph knew exactly what he was doing now.
“You talk a lot when you’re winning,” he murmured.
You swallowed. “You complaining?”
“Nah.” His eyes dragged slowly over your face before settling back on your lips for half a second too long. “Kinda like it.”
That nearly destroyed you on the spot. The tension snapped tighter immediately, both of you frozen there in the middle of the mat while everybody else collectively pretended not to stare.
Raph’s thumbs brushed lightly against your waist. Tiny movement. Tiny. But it felt electric. And when you shifted unconsciously in his lap afterward, his grip tightened for the briefest moment. Not enough to stop you, but enough to make your brain short-circuit.
His eyes darkened instantly.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Leo muttered from somewhere behind you.
Mikey pointed dramatically. “THE CHEMISTRY IS CRAZY.”
“Scientifically undeniable,” Donnie added.
You finally tore your eyes away from Raph long enough to glare at them. “Are you guys done?”
“No,” all three answered immediately.
Raph snorted quietly beneath you, and the vibration of it against your hand almost made things worse. Then his gaze lifted back toward you again. That smirk still there. Completely unashamed now. And before you could recover properly, he leaned up just enough for his mouth to end up dangerously close to your ear.
“You’re real brave sittin’ on my lap like this,” he murmured.
Your entire body went hot. Because the worst part? He sounded calm. Like he was enjoying watching you slowly realize you might not actually be the one in control here anymore.
The problem was that you had underestimated Raph. Badly. Because teasing him when you thought he’d get embarrassed was one thing. Realizing he actually liked having you on his lap was another entirely. And now you were trapped in the consequences of your own confidence.
Your bravado had started slipping the second his hands settled firmly on your waist, but now it was completely gone. Burned away under the weight of his stare and the way he kept looking at you like he could read every thought crossing your mind. Which, judging by the smugness creeping into his expression, maybe he could.
You finally broke eye contact first. That alone felt humiliating somehow. Your face turned away instinctively, suddenly hyperaware of everything — the heat in your cheeks, the position you were in, the fact everybody else had gone unusually quiet because even they could tell the atmosphere had shifted completely.
Raph noticed immediately. Of course he did.
A low sound rumbled in his chest, almost amused, before one of his hands left your waist. Then his fingers curled gently around your chin. Your breath caught. Slowly, firmly, he turned your face back toward him.
“No, no,” he murmured. “Don’t start gettin’ shy now.”
The words hit harder than they should have. Because his voice had changed again. Still low. Still rough. But calmer now. More confident. Like the second he realized your confidence cracked, something in him straightened instinctively into control.
And honestly? It fit him terrifyingly well.
Your pulse hammered while his thumb rested against your jaw, keeping your head tilted toward him no matter how much your instincts screamed to look away again. Raph leaned back slightly underneath you, broad hands settling once more against your waist while he studied your face with open satisfaction.
“There she is,” he said quietly.
You hated how weak your voice sounded afterward. “Shut up.”
That only made him smirk. Not a cocky grin like Mikey’s. Not smug like Leo got when he won arguments. Raph’s smirk always looked heavier than that. Slower. Like he knew exactly the effect he had and enjoyed watching people react to it.
“You were runnin’ your mouth real nice a minute ago,” he muttered.
Your entire body felt too warm now. The worst part was how easily he handled you physically without even trying. One hand still under your chin. The other spread across your side, thumb brushing absentmindedly against your waist while you sat frozen in his lap trying to recover enough dignity to form an actual comeback.
It wasn’t working. And Raph knew it wasn’t working.
The realization seemed to make his eyes darken slightly. Around you, the room stayed dead silent except for the faint music still humming through the speakers. Even Mikey had stopped talking for once, probably because this no longer felt like normal teasing.
This felt intimate. Dangerously intimate.
You shifted slightly again without meaning to, trying to pull back just enough to breathe properly. Huge mistake. Raph’s grip tightened instantly. Not painful. Never painful. Just enough to stop you from moving away. Your eyes snapped back to his immediately. And there it was again — that look. Focused. Heavy. Like every bit of his attention narrowed directly onto you.
“Uh-uh,” he said softly. “You started this.”
Your stomach flipped so hard it was embarrassing. The size difference suddenly felt overwhelming now that your confidence had abandoned you completely. Sitting on his lap earlier had made you feel victorious for exactly ten seconds before Raph turned the situation around effortlessly.
Because underneath you, he looked completely comfortable. Completely in control. Like having you flustered in his arms was the easiest thing in the world.
One of his thumbs brushed slowly along your jawline while he kept your head tilted toward him, forcing you to maintain eye contact no matter how much you wanted to hide your face somewhere.
“You done actin’ tough?” he asked quietly.
You swallowed hard. Raph noticed that too. God, he noticed everything. His expression softened for the briefest second afterward — not less dominant, not less intense, just… warmer underneath it. Like beneath all the teasing and tension, he was still very aware of you. Of how fast your breathing had become. Of the fact your hands had unconsciously curled into the straps over his chest.
And somehow that made it worse. Because now his voice dropped lower again.
“Cute,” he muttered.
Your brain nearly stopped functioning. “Raph,” you warned weakly.
“What?” His smirk widened faintly. “Now you wanna use my name?”
From somewhere behind you, Leo suddenly groaned loudly into his hands. “Oh my god.”
Mikey whispered back, equally horrified and fascinated, “They’re gonna explode.”
Donnie finally looked up from his tablet. “I believe we are witnessing the biological phenomenon known as unresolved attraction reaching critical mass.”
Neither of you paid attention to them. Couldn’t, really. Not when Raph’s hand was still holding your chin carefully but firmly in place, his face inches from yours now while tension stretched so tight between you it almost hurt.
And for the first time since this started, Raph looked just as affected as you. Still controlled. Still dominant. But affected.
His breathing had deepened slightly. His eyes kept flicking briefly toward your lips before returning to your eyes again like he was forcing himself not to push this further in front of his brothers. Which honestly might have been the only thing saving both of you right now.
Then Raph leaned closer one final inch, voice rough enough to send heat straight down your spine. “You gonna keep starin’ at me like that,” he murmured, “or you gonna finish the fight?”
