"Sonic-fy" the TMNT's ... As a huge Sonic fan, I find it funny but I also try to imagine what it would look like for our favorite turtles ... I first fell in love with Bay!Raph after all, so not sure I want him to change.
And I'm afraid the OG crew will not return for this one (Alan, Pete, Noel and Jeremy)
But if it's something like Rise of TMNT with Ben Scwartz and the others, I wouldn't mind, I love this verse too !
Edit : Wait, I talk about Bay!TMNT because of the picture but maybe this verse is not even related to this new reboot. I don't know.
I never knew these existed! He does illustrations for kids storybooks! I THINK this is the cover of this book.
He's also accredited for this book as well.
He looks to be accredited for all the TMNT Step Into Reading books, just from a quick google search. This includes multiple books for 2003, 2012, Half-shell Heroes (2012 but chibi) and Rise.
Pairing: Raphael Hamato x Reader
Summary: Your date ended horribly. You walked home alone in the rain, sobbing, with a red mark on your arm and a story to keep from your green best friends (because they brutalize bad people, plus you were just embarrassed of your judgment.) Big Red, however, was tired of being your best friend -- and was waiting to tell you that.
Themes & Warnings: protective!Raph, emotional love confessions in the rain, mentions of violence and possible carrying out of violence, swearing, slight fluff, comfort, Raph being angry bc he's always angry.
Having mutant turtle best friends was not how you thought your twenties would go. Not that you weren't thankful.
You just thought you'd be hanging out with your girls, going to bars, meeting dudes and finding your calling while studying in college. You thought it would be full of mini skirts, glitter, vodka and dreams. You were wrong. Completely wrong. Instead, you were walking home drunk from a bar alone, fell down an open manhole cover, and were caught by strong, green arms.
You screamed for a second. Passed out. When you woke up, you were on an old tattered couch with a giant rat staring at you, then looking at the four hulking turtle-human men in disdain.
That was how you met your boys.
It didn't take you long to love them. You loved Leo's courage, his leadership, his perfect advice every time you asked for it. He was more mature than most people you knew, though he hadn't experienced a full life that was similar to yours. You loved Donnie's intelligence, his excitement about his hobbies, how gentle he was, and how eager he was to teach you about things you'd never heard about. You loved Mikey's carefree spirit, the way he could always lift you up when you were feeling down, and his spectacular sense of humor. And most of all, you loved Raph.
You always attracted a bad boy. Always, always. Though it wasn't romantic, it was natural for you to spend the most time with the most rough-around-the-edges motherfucker there was. It was just how your life went. When you met Raph, he was tough to crack at first. He was a little grumpy about a new human joining their lives, adding to the chaos that April O'Neil originally brought -- but he warmed up to you until he was ultimately the closest to you out of the four.
At first, he didn’t speak to you much. Just kind of grunted when you came by. Didn’t laugh at your jokes. Barely made eye contact.
But you noticed the small things. Like how he always checked the tunnels before you left. How he stood between you and the sketchier parts of the lair. How he walked you out even when you said you didn’t need an escort.
You started staying longer when he was around. He started lingering in the doorway when you visited.
Eventually, that turned into regular late-night talks, usually on the couch, or while he bench pressed literal cars in the corner of the dojo. You’d sit with your legs crisscrossed, talking about dumb things: your classes, your horrible job, your wild roommates. He’d grunt or smirk, occasionally tossing in a sarcastic comment that made you snort into your soda. Sometimes he’d say something unexpectedly thoughtful, and it’d stick with you for days.
What no one told you about Raph was that he listened. He remembered everything -- the names of your old pets, the fact that your mom was sick, your weird favorite candy that no one else liked. He noticed when you wore makeup to hide stress, or when your laugh didn’t sound quite right.
When you got sick, he brought you soup and didn’t make eye contact the entire time. When you got dumped, he punched the punching bag until his knuckles bled and didn’t say why. When you succeeded, a passing grade, a new job, a clean day, he acted like it was your world championship.
And you?
You kept him soft.
You gave him space to breathe. Let him be quiet when he needed to be. Made him laugh when he didn’t want to. You saw past the temper and the walls and the scowl and found the stubbornly loyal, deeply sensitive, fiercely protective man underneath.
You made him feel safe.
It was always you and Raph -- shoulder to shoulder, sarcasm for armor, both pretending it wasn’t more.
Even if everyone else already knew it was.
The day you came into the lair talking about some date, Raph surprisingly held his tornado of anger, disgust, and jealousy inward. You never even noticed it. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to hide everything he was feeling -- maybe through the "keep calm" tactics that you'd taught him one day -- but he did it successfully. It wasn't like you'd never gone on a date before. You'd even gone on multiple dates with one chump, calling him your boyfriend before you eventually got tired of him questioning where you went every Friday night (movie night with the boys.)
“He's actually really nice,” you said, sucking the last few drops of a smoothie Mikey had made through a straw noisily. “He does concrete construction or whatever. He helped with the new sidewalk outside my university.”
The boys listened. Donnie sat on a stool, staring down at some little gadget he was working on, making noises of acknowledgement to show he was listening. Mikey did dishes, occasionally stopping to look at you. Leo sat politely, eyes on you.
And Raph? Raph stood next to you, arms crossed solidly, wishing he could run away and beat the shit out of something.
“Well, angelcakes, he sounds like a nice one.” Mikey commented, grinning. “But remember Mikey's rules for date safety! Never--”
You rolled your eyes.
“Never leave your drink uncovered, never--” You attempted to finish.
“--go anywhere alone, and if he orders milk on a first date, run,” Mikey finished, snapping a soapy finger toward you like a coach on game day.
You snorted. “He ordered beer last time, so I think we’re in the clear.”
“Still kinda weird,” Donnie mumbled, not looking up from his work.
“Beer’s weird?” you asked, lifting a brow.
“No,” Donnie said, adjusting a dial, “him.”
That earned a laugh from Mikey and even the smallest twitch of a smile from Leo.
But Raph? Raph didn’t smile. He didn’t speak.
He just stood there beside you, hulking and silent, jaw tight, arms crossed so hard his biceps flexed like steel cables under his skin.
You never noticed the tension, not really. You never noticed how his eyes flicked to your exposed collarbone, still dotted with the leftover shimmer of whatever perfume you wore. You never noticed how he inhaled, just once, like he could smell him on you. How he fought the urge to throw that smoothie cup across the room.
You never noticed because Raph didn’t let it show.
It wasn’t the first time you’d mentioned some dude. You’d brought up a few before. Guys who left you unsatisfied, frustrated, confused. He’d always been there after. Quietly listening. Driving you home. Standing behind you in line at the bodega, just in case the ex showed up and needed reminding. He made a public appearance a lot now, since Donnie had invented the projection watches -- they gave the boys human bodies, human personas for when they had to go up top and not raise hell. For when they needed to be up there for regular, human business.
This time was different.
This guy was new. He was “nice.” He had a job that involved strength. You smiled when you talked about him.
You stopped by again before you went on tonight's date. Your outfit would've made Raph blush if he wasn't so fucking pissed. You had a short, black dress on, just long enough to keep it classy but with enough leg showing to make you look sexy. Your hair was curled and tucked into a bun, ringlets falling in front of your face. Your makeup wasn't dramatic, it accentuated your naturally beautiful face. You wore heels, but they still didn't touch Raphael's height at all. After all, the man was like six foot seven.
You twirled in front of the boys, smiling brightly.
“How do I look? Is there something I'm missing?”
You were standing in front of him, spinning like some perfect little fever dream, the soft lighting of the lair catching the shimmer on your legs and the curve of your smile, asking him -- the guy currently gripping the edge of the counter so hard it might crack -- if you were missing something.
Yeah. You were missing something.
Him.
He didn't say it. He couldn’t say it. Not with Leo watching you like a protective big brother. Not with Donnie adjusting his glasses and muttering something about “statistical likelihood of safety.” Not with Mikey wolf-whistling in the background like he was front row at a runway show.
“Daaaamn, baddie,” Mikey grinned, dramatically fanning himself with a pizza box. “You look like heartbreak in heels. Don’t kill the guy. Unless he deserves it.”
“I won’t,” you giggled, smoothing the sides of your dress. “He’s just taking me to dinner. Somewhere nice.”
“Nice how?” Leo asked cautiously.
You shrugged. “Little Italian place near the East River. It’s casual. Wine, candles… pasta, hopefully.”
Donnie didn’t look up. “Call me if anything seems off.”
“You’ll know before I do,” you said, tapping your phone. “I’m sharing my location with you already.”
“Smart girl,” Leo said with a nod.
Then your eyes flicked to Raph, still standing frozen by the fridge, knuckles white where they wrapped around the counter. You smiled at him -- warm and sweet, like you always did -- and tilted your head.
“Well? You didn’t say anything. I look okay?”
His throat was dry. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t look at your legs again, not when you were dressed like that for someone who wasn’t him.
You looked like temptation itself. You looked like his worst mistake waiting to happen. You looked like everything he couldn’t have.
So he gave a grunt. “Yeah. S’fine.”
“Just fine?” you teased.
He forced himself to look at your face. Just your face.
“You look great,” he muttered.
You beamed, completely unaware of the furnace behind his eyes. “Thank you, Raphie.”
Then you stepped close, too close, and reached up to fix the collar of his tank top with that same tenderness you always had. Your perfume hit him like a punch to the gut.
“You’re always honest with me,” you said softly. “That’s what I like about you.”
His jaw ticked. “Don’t like lyin’.”
You smiled. “I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”
Then you turned, heels tapping across the cement floor, and disappeared into the tunnels with a quick wave goodbye.
And Raphael?
Raphael stood there silently, watching the spot where you’d been, breathing slow through his nose like if he didn’t, something in him might snap.
Because it should’ve been him.
Taking you to dinner. Making you laugh over wine and pasta. Driving you home with your heels dangling from your hand, your lips gloss-smeared and smiling just for him.
Instead, he was stuck underground. Fuming. Wishing he'd just said it.
Wishing he’d told you the truth the moment you walked in, all sparkling eyes and lip gloss:
You didn’t look perfect.
You looked like his.
He groaned, wiping his huge hand across his forehead in frustration. Leo watched him carefully, pursing his lips. Donnie said nothing, as usual, and Mikey sensed the tension, tucking himself back into his corner where he was eating his pizza and playing his video games.
“She's your best friend. You should have just been honest,” Leo hummed carefully, as if not to set off the beast. “The truth'll come out one way or another.”
Raphael didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, still leaning against the counter, still seething under the surface like a volcano that had been too quiet for too long.
His hand dropped from his forehead, falling heavy against the edge of the counter with a dull thud. His jaw flexed. Once. Twice.
“Yeah,” he muttered finally, voice low and full of gravel. “Well. Too late now, ain’t it?”
Leo tilted his head, arms crossed, giving him that look. The big brother one. The patient, steady stare that somehow made Raph feel like he was still twelve and throwing punches in the dojo.
“It’s not too late unless you decide it is,” Leo said, voice calm, but firm.
Donnie didn't glance up from the device in his hand, but his voice carried from behind his glasses.
“She trusts you more than anyone. Statistically, emotional vulnerability paired with long-standing companionship has a higher chance of success than new--”
“Donnie, if you don't--” Raph snarled.
Donnie blinked. “Right. Not helping.”
Raph turned away from all of them. Walked a few paces across the lair like he might burn the energy off if he just moved enough. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, and his shell shifted with the tightness of his shoulders.
“She looked happy,” he said finally, bitter. “Talkin’ about him. Smilin’. Gettin’ all dressed up. Like he’s doin’ somethin’ for her that I can’t.”
Leo raised a brow. “Or maybe she was just excited someone finally asked. Doesn’t mean she picked him over you, Raph.”
“She did.”
“No,” Mikey chimed in from his corner without looking up. “She just doesn’t know you’re an option.”
That stopped Raph cold.
He stared across the lair, frozen in place, the words echoing in his skull.
She just doesn’t know you’re an option.
Because he’d never said it. Never given her the chance to choose him. Just stood beside her like a shadow while she cried over losers, complained about red flags, rolled her eyes at controlling texts and kissed cheeks that weren’t his.
He groaned again, dragging a hand down his face.
“What am I s’posed to do, huh? Run outta the shadows and confess like some kinda Hallmark hero? ‘Hey, surprise, I’ve been in love with you for years. Wanna ditch the dude who has fuckin' concrete all over his clothes and smells like Axe body spray?’”
Leo snorted. “Better than sulking in the sewers and letting someone else make her miserable.”
Mikey finally paused his game and looked over, eyes more serious than usual. “She’s not the kind of girl you can replace, bro. You know that.”
And Raphael did know that.
He knew it every time she laughed so hard she wheezed. Every time she fell asleep on the couch beside him, legs draped over his lap. Every time she saw him, really saw him, through the walls and the anger and the scars. She was his best friend. His anchor. The only soft place in a world that never gave him one. And he was gonna lose her to some prick in a hard hat who didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.
Hours passed. No calls, no texts. But Raph had decided. No matter what happened, he had to tell the truth. He had to come out and say it before he fuckin' exploded.
You finally sent a text, telling them you were going home, the date had gone "fine."
He was going to tell you. Tonight. When you got home from your date. Then, you could tell him whether you wanted the concrete brained little shit -- or whether you wanted someone who'd actually love you. Who loved you. Now. Always. Since he'd let you break into his walls, touch the parts of him that had never had a hand on them.
He threw a hoodie on, grabbing his phone, and moved to leave. Twisting his watch, he became a vision of himself, not quite Raph, but Raph enough.
Still tall. Still hulking with muscle. A buzz cut with a red bandana covering it, tattoos all over his skin, the same intimidating green eyes. He was hot actually, which you'd admitted when you first saw the projection. All of them were. Raph, though.. It truly did him justice.
Although secretly, you'd always thought Raph was hot. Projection or not. It was what originally drew you into him.
Raph heard Leo's voice from the corner of the lair, the dojo.
“Good luck.”
The rain was the first thing he noticed. He welcomed it, letting it pour down onto him in calming waves. He walked to your house, opting not to take the shell-raiser. After all, if things went badly, he'd probably find some dirty criminal to pummel.
He reached your apartment, sitting on your front steps under the overhanging roof. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it, puffing on it slowly as he waited for you to approach.
What would he even say? What would he do if you told him to fuck off? He didn't let the nerves dissuade him. It needed to be said, bad results or not.
It was about five more minutes before he saw your silhouette in the rain. You were small, far smaller than him, of course. He knew it was you by the way you walked. You were walking, walking, walking, he was waiting to see your face through the waves of water. When he finally did, his eyebrows furrowed.
Mascara stained your cheeks. Crying. You were crying.
You walked awkwardly, the closer you got. Your hand clutched your arm.
Then, your e/c eyes lifted. You saw him.
Quickly, you wiped your face with one arm, acting like nothing had ever happened. Then, the hand quickly came back down to cover your arm -- Raph wasn't close enough to see what you were covering. You reached Raph, looking at him in confusion.
“Raph? What are you doing here in the rain--”
He didn’t answer at first.
His eyes were locked on you, all of you. The ruined makeup. The limp in your walk. The tight grip you had on your arm, like you were trying to hold yourself together.
You were hurting. That much was obvious. And trying to hide it from him.
From him.
He stepped forward without thinking, eyes narrowing. His jaw clenched, and his voice dropped low, rough.
“What happened.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the edge in his tone.
“Nothing,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You’re not fine,” he said, stepping in closer. His eyes dropped to your arm, the one you were still guarding like a shield. “What’s under your hand?”
“Raph, it’s nothing, I swear--”
He was in front of you now, towering over you, not in a way that scared you, never in a way that scared you, but in a way that said he knew. That he wouldn’t let it slide.
“Move your hand.”
You hesitated. Looked up at him.
He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t huffing and puffing, or pacing, or growling with his fists balled up like he usually did when something pissed him off.
No. He was quiet.
And that was worse.
“No. Raph, please, I am perfectly--”
“Move your fuckin' hand, shorty, now.”
“Raph.”
His voice cracked through the rain like thunder.
“You want me to move it?”
It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t violence. It was a promise, for your own good. A promise that you'd heard before. He'd make shit happen.
You flinched, not because you were scared, but because you knew what was coming. You knew once he saw it, really saw it, there’d be no stuffing the rage back into the bottle. You hesitated just a second longer.
And then you moved your hand.
Raph’s eyes dropped immediately.
Silence.
The bruise was ugly. Purple and red, already deepening, shaped like thick fingers curled into the soft skin of your arm. It told a story you hadn’t even finished living yet.
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t blink.
Just stared.
Then his chest rose -- slow, steady, dangerous.
His jaw flexed, his nostrils flared, and his eyes, those sharp green eyes, burned.
“Motherfucker,” he muttered, voice low and venomous.
You reached for him. “Raphael--”
You couldn't quite get him in your grip, just the fabric of his sweatshirt in a small hand. It was wet, soaked with rain, but you managed to keep your grip. He turned towards you, lip almost curled into a snarl. Anger heated the air up -- could've boiled the rain.
“You said the date was fine. Fuckin' fine. Look at your--” he cut himself off, taking a breath and looking up at the sky. “You lied to me. Why would you lie to save that waste of space?” He hissed, turning completely towards you.
You flinched, not from fear, never from him, but from the sheer weight of his rage.
The rain kept falling, soaking through your clothes, matting your hair to your face, but none of it mattered. Not with Raphael standing in front of you like a storm barely restrained, fists clenched, shoulders squared, breathing like he’d just fought ten men and still wasn’t done.
“I wasn’t protecting him,” you said quickly, gripping tighter to his hoodie. “I was protecting you.”
That stopped him.
His jaw twitched. His eyes snapped to yours, sharp as glass and just as fragile beneath the surface.
“I knew what you’d do, Raph,” you whispered, voice trembling. “And I didn’t want to lose you to a cell or a manhunt or -- or something worse. I didn’t want to see you destroy yourself for me.”
He looked at you for a moment.. Then laughed. Bitterly.
“Don't worry about it. Ain't no motherfucker on this earth that's gonna touch you and walk away fine. Whether you feel bad or not,” he said. He towered over you, trying to force his green eyes away from the nasty injury on your arm. “I'd burn this city down for you if ya asked me to. I'm gonna kill this fuckin' guy.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Not because you didn’t believe him, no, you absolutely believed him, but because you could feel it. You could feel the truth in his voice, in every clenched muscle, in the way his words shook with restraint.
“Raph--”
“I mean it,” he snapped, stepping closer, close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off his chest. His projection shimmered faintly in the rain, struggling to keep up with the fury boiling just beneath his skin. “I don’t care if I gotta rip the fuckin’ streets up brick by brick, he’s gonna learn.”
You reached for him again, laying your hand gently against the front of his soaked hoodie. His heart was hammering underneath, furious, panicked, wild.
“I’m okay now,” you whispered. “I’m with you.”
He shook his head.
“Not good enough,” he growled. “You should never have to feel scared. Not when you got me. Not when you been right here in front of me this whole time and I’ve been too chickenshit to say what I really feel.”
You swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”
His jaw flexed again, rain trailing down his face like it was trying to cool him off. He took a breath, deep and shaky, and looked down at you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth.
“Shoulda been me.”
“W-What?”
He looked down at you still, his hand traveling down to pull your wet strap back up over your shoulder.
“Shoulda been me. Takin' you out, now that we can go up top,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Shoulda been me walkin' you home. Kissin' you at your front door step. Shoulda been me you were gettin' all pretty for.”
You stared, eyes wide and glassy.
“You were walkin’ around in that dress, hair done up all nice…smilin’ about some guy who didn’t even deserve a hello from you,” he muttered, eyes locked on yours, voice just shy of breaking. “And I stood there like a fuckin’ idiot, pretendin’ it didn’t kill me.”
His hand slid up, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb, rainwater tracing the movement.
“I ain’t ever felt more useless than watchin’ you leave tonight, knowin’ I wasn’t the one takin’ you out. Knowin’ I let someone else touch you ‘cause I was too much of a coward to say somethin’. And now,” he hissed, “I gotta kill the stupid fucker. Cuz he laid his hands on the girl I love.”
You didn’t even flinch at the words, the girl I love, but your breath caught like a rope had cinched around your chest and pulled tight.
The rain still fell in steady sheets, soaking you both to the bone, but neither of you noticed. Not really. Not with the confession hanging in the air between you, burning hotter than the storm around you.
“Raph…” your voice was soft. Barely a whisper. “Please.”
His gaze flickered, wild for a second, like he’d just realized he’d said it out loud. Like the truth had broken out of him without permission. But once it was out, he didn’t backpedal. He didn’t retreat.
He stepped in even closer, your bodies almost touching, his massive frame shielding you from the worst of the wind.
“I love you,” he said, voice low and rough, thick with emotion. “I love you. You think I’ve been watchin’ you all this time just to be your backup plan? Some guy you crash on when the rest of the world sucks?”
“No,” you breathed, shaking your head quickly. “No, I never thought that.”
“I been in love with you since the second you looked at me like I wasn’t just a monster. Since you laughed at my dumb jokes, shared your food, yelled at me when I got too hot-headed. You see me, and it scared the shit outta me.”
A warm tear ran down your face. His thumb caught that too.
“You're too good for this world. Too good for me. Too good for him. And even though you ain't mine, I'll happily shit-stomp any man that crosses you.”
You let out a soft, broken sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, as your hand reached up to cup his face, rough jaw and all.
“But I am yours,” you whispered. “I’ve been yours, Raph. This whole time. Was just too stupid to see it.”
His breath hitched, just for a second, and his hands flexed on your waist, like he couldn’t believe he was actually hearing the words. Like maybe the rain had messed with his head, or the universe was playing some cruel joke.
But your eyes were honest. Open. No walls, no filters, no fear. Just you, standing there in the storm, bruised and soaked and choosing him.
“You’re-- you wanna be?” he asked, voice cracking, like a kid afraid to hope.
You nodded, fingers curling at the back of his neck, drawing him closer. “Yes. I was just too scared to ruin us by saying it. I didn't want to lose you, Raphael. You're all I have. The only thing worth it.”
A beat of silence passed, thick, electric, before he pressed his forehead to yours with a low, aching groan.
He kissed you like he’d been holding back for years, because he had. His hands tangled in your hair, one arm wrapping around your lower back, lifting you off the pavement like your feet didn’t deserve to be on the same ground as the man who hurt you. His lips were warm despite the cold, pressed firm and sure to yours like he had no plans of letting you forget how long he’d loved you from the sidelines.
When he pulled back, you were both breathless. His voice was low and shaky when he said:
“If you’re mine… then you don’t ever gotta deal with this shit again. No more cheap dates, no more fake shit, no more bruises you try to hide.”
You swallowed, tears welling fresh again.
“Okay.”
“I mean it,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you loved. Proper. The way you always shoulda been.”
You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady, thundering beat of his heart under soaked fabric.
“I know,” you whispered.
And he just held you tighter.
Because you were his.
And now, finally, he was yours too.
BONUS:
However, your date, though you thought Raph forgot about him.. did not escape retribution.
A couple nights after the incident, your date, Todd, stood alone. He was sweeping the new concrete, cleaning up after a week of work, headphones dangling from his ears. He hummed a tune, staring down at the pavement, admiring his work.
Didn't even notice the two hulking shadows approaching from behind him -- 'til his headphones were ripped right out.
“What the--”
He turned, startled, just in time to see something big and orange spin toward him. Todd took a full-on roundhouse kick to the chest from Michelangelo and went flying into a pile of sandbags like a cartoon.
“Yikes, bro,” Mikey said, cracking his knuckles. “You can put your hands on women but you can't take a hit yourself? Bummer.”
Raph stepped forward, massive arms crossed, that black hoodie of his soaked from rain and rage. “So you’re Todd, huh?”
Todd wheezed, struggling to sit up. “W-What the hell?! Who the hell are you?!”
Mikey grinned wide. “Let’s just say we’re the after-party to that date you fumbled so bad.”
Todd blinked, confused, then scowled. “This is about that chick? She said it was fine. What, you two her brothers or somethin’?”
Raph’s jaw ticked. “Somethin’.”
Then he grabbed Todd by the collar and lifted him off the ground like a rag doll. “She said it was fine,” he repeated mockingly, eyes narrowing. “Right after she came home cryin’ with a bruise in the exact shape of your grubby little hand. Sound fuckin’ familiar?”
Todd squirmed. “I-I didn’t mean--she was getting mouthy, I just--”
That was all he got out before Raph slammed him into a cement pillar, holding him there like a schoolyard bully from hell.
“I should break every bone in your slimy little body,” Raph growled. “But I promised her I wouldn’t kill you.”
Todd whimpered. “Then what--what are you gonna do?!”
Mikey stepped up beside Raph with a sweet, sunny grin… and a bright pink backpack.
“Oh, we’re gonna teach you, bro.”
Cut to:
Todd, thirty minutes later, is tied up Spider-Man style with neon pink jump rope, suspended upside down from the scaffolding. Mikey had drawn flowers and hearts all over his face in washable marker. His pants were missing (they were now duct-taped to the top of a flagpole nearby), and his shirt had been swapped with a hot-pink crop top that read: “I Cry When Girls Yell.”
A chalk sign was propped up beneath him. It read:
“Hi, I’m Todd. I’m a big, dumb, concrete-throwing jerk who hits girls. My biceps are fake. Don’t be like me. This could happen to you.”
“Next time,” Raph said, crouching down beside him, voice calm but terrifying, “you keep your hands to yourself. Or I’ll let Mikey use the glitter glue.”
Todd whimpered, nodding frantically, tears dripping down his inverted face.
“Glitter. Never comes out,” Mikey added with a wink.
With that, the brothers disappeared into the night, high-fiving as they vanished into the shadows.
Lesson taught. Message delivered.
And Todd? He never went near another woman without a very polite tone -- and two feet of personal space.
You, however, saw it in the news the next day.
The headline read:
“Masked Vigilantes Hijack Construction Site to Publicly Shame Harasser -- Chalk Sign Warns: ‘Don’t Be Like Me. This Could Happen to You.’”
You groaned, rolling your eyes.
“Raphael Hamato! Come here! Now!”
You heard the unmistakable sound of his boots thudding down the stairs before Raph appeared at the entrance to your room, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, baby?” Raph said, leaning against the doorframe, all casual confidence. His smirk widened as he took in your unimpressed expression. “You, uh… saw the news, huh?”
You held up the newspaper, shaking it at him. “This was your idea of ‘handling it quietly’?!”
Raph shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. “Eh, we didn’t kill him. That counts as quiet for me.”
You groaned again, tossing the paper onto the bed. “Raph, you literally left a chalk sign. And Mikey drew on his face.”
“Yeah, and?” Raph flopped onto the bed beside you, stretching out like a smug cat. “Dude’s lucky that’s all we did. You shoulda seen the other ideas Mikey had-- we didn't even use the glitter.”
You shot him a glare, but the corner of your mouth twitched. “You’re impossible.”
Raph grinned, reaching out to tug you closer. “Nah, just thorough.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone that still sent shivers down your spine. “And now everyone knows what happens when some punk puts his hands on you. He ever comes near you again, they ain't gonna find his body.”
You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the warmth spreading in your chest. “...You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Raph agreed, unrepentant. “But I gotta make sure my girl's taken care of.”
You sighed, finally letting yourself smile as you leaned into him. “...Thanks, Raph.”
He squeezed you tighter, pressing another kiss to your bare shoulder, just above the strap of your tanktop. “Anytime, shorty.”
(And if, later that night, you may have doodled a little heart next to the newspaper clipping before tucking it into your desk drawer? Well. That was your business.)
I felt inspired by @justalotoffanfiction who wrote a Bayverse Raph story based on Mr. Brightside, so I thought I'd try my hand writing something based on a different song, One More Night by Maroon 5.
TW: Angst, Abuse toward Raph, verbal and physical, swearing and mentions of sex.
*Aged up characters
*Bayverse Raph × Reader
*HEA ending guaranteed
Special thanks to @avery73 for beta-reading!
Even the strongest of us can fall victim to this type of treatment. Raphael was no exception.
SLAP!
The sound reverberated off of the paper-thin walls in the tiny apartment. She was hitting him again. She was always angry at him for some reason. Why the hell was he here again? Oh, yeah, because she wanted to fuck him. This was always the reason.
He got a little bit of satisfaction seeing her shake her hand after slapping him, though it did nothing to quell her seemingly burning hatred toward him. If anything, she looked more enraged that his skin was so tough.
“You ASSHOLE! You think you can come and go as you please?! I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” She was screaming at him because his patrol had gone longer than it normally would, and she did not like to be kept waiting.
He knew this, and he should care, but he didn't. This… ‘thing’ they’d had going on had been well-established for months, but any time something went awry or didn’t go according to plan, she exploded. It’s not like she could really hurt him… slapping, hitting, throwing things at him. It didn’t really matter. That’s what he tried to tell himself, to make excuses for her behaviour because, on the other hand, being with her had resulted in some of the hottest sex imaginable. That’s why he kept coming back. That’s why they both kept coming back.
It still made him angry though. Fucking bitch.
“FUCKING FINE! I’ll just fucking GO THEN.” He meant it and whirled around to leave.
“Don’t you take another step Raphael.” She snapped; her voice deadly low. “Get the hell over here.”
He should leave. He should shut this down right now and never come here again. They both knew that this wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t stop coming.
And she knew it.
Moments later he’d spanned the length of the room and had her pressed tightly against the wall, kissing her ravenously, his hand fisted in her hair. She was just as desperate, hands clawing at him, trying to remove his clothes, and throwing his weapons to the ground. As hot as that was, he’d never liked how she had no respect for them or cared about how dangerous they were. All she had cared about was getting what she wanted.
In the aftermath, he laid in her bed staring at the ceiling hating himself. She was deeply asleep beside him blissfully unaware of his conflicting feelings. She’d apologize of course in her moments of clarity, even promise that next time she’d be nicer, gentler. She never kept that promise.
Quietly, as only a ninja could, he dressed, retrieved his weapons, tucking them safely into his belt and left. He felt like such an idiot. He needed to stop fucking doing this. He knew his brothers and their father were worried about him but he shut down anytime anyone tried to ask him about it. The only one who had any idea of what was going on was Casey.
“Dude, she sounds fucking awful, why do you keep going there?”
“Cuz she’s hot and the sex is amazing.”
“No pussy is worth this, man. She’s slapping the shit out of you every time you go.”
“’s fine, it doesn’t really hurt me any.”
“Maybe not physically, but it ain’t great for your head.”
“I’m fine.”
They’d left it at that; but as time went on, he was slowly coming to the realization Casey was right. This wasn’t good for him but he kept going back. He needed to stop; he needed a reason to cut ties with her for good.
You ended up being that reason.
You’d been best friends throughout your teens and had lost touch after the two of you had met your respective partners. Your relationship had ended disastrously with him cheating on you with a ‘friend’ of yours. Immediately, you cut ties and burned those bridges with both of them. Now single, your thoughts had turned back to Raph. You wondered how he was doing and hoped he was happy. You wished the two of you could reconnect and catch up, but you were afraid he’d forgotten all about you.
It's funny how life works sometimes. One Saturday night, you heard glass breaking in the apartment below you. You had just moved in and had groaned when you realized there was probably a loud argumentative couple living below you now. Hearing more noise and muffled yelling prompted you to go to your balcony to see what was going on. You figured you could call the police if it got really bad and you were just a tiny bit nosy.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw and heard.
“You’re fucking crazy! I’m done. WE’RE FUCKING DONE! I ain’t never coming back here!” It was Raph, it was unmistakably his voice. You’d know it anywhere.
Craning your neck over the side of your balcony you looked far as you could and saw him. The poor guy looked like a wreck. There was red liquid and bits of broken glass all down his front. From what you could see, it appeared to be remnants of a glass of wine. You could assume that it had been hurled at him along with the entire bottle it looked like.
“Don’t you fucking walk out on me, Raphael! GET BACK HERE!” The woman who’d thrown those things was screaming at him but he wasn’t turning back.
It was only when you heard the screen door slam shut that you dared call out to him. “Raph?”
He heard you, how could he not? Seconds later, he was swinging himself up to your balcony, whispering your name in surprise and looking ashamed at his appearance. He hurriedly brushed any remaining pieces of glass to the floor. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I just moved here.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached to grab his arm but stopped when you saw him physically tense up. What had happened to him? He used to be so strong in your eyes, and now he looked afraid to have you touch him.
Slowly, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you gently pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but notice that he just looked so angry and… broken.
“Are you okay?” You knew your concern was valid since he was quiet a long moment before answering.
“…I’m fine.” He was lying to you, and he hated himself for doing that. He regretted it the moment those two words left his lips.
Sucking in a breath you gently grabbed those huge biceps of his and met his troubled gaze. God, you’d missed those piercing green eyes of his. “You’re not fine Raph… you’re covered in wine and…” You looked at his face, studying it more. “Does she… hit you?”
He turned away in shame as he tensed. “Doesn’t hurt none…”
You narrowed your gaze, your own anger rising up as you gave those arms a squeeze. “How often is she hitting you, Raph…?” Again, when he doesn’t answer right away your tone and your grip become harder. “How. Often?”
He spoke so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “A lot…” If he’s finally admitting it to someone, it should be you.
A lump was quickly forming in your throat as you realized what had been going on. What kind of relationship he’d been dealing with. Why he was so tense and unsure. How unhealthy it was and why you hadn’t heard from him in so long.
“Raph… that’s… abuse. She’s abusing you.” You whispered these words because it hurt you to say them any louder. You knew Raph would never lay a hand against a woman, but you never expected him to be on the receiving end of this kind of thing.
His first instinct was to argue against that. He bristled as he backed away out of your grasp, walls of defense shooting in place as he tried to deny it. That was ridiculous! Him being abused.
“No it ain’t! I’d know if I was… that’s fucking ridiculous!” He’d curled his hands into large fists, his shoulders hunched and slightly shaking with his denial.
You can feel him practically vibrating with humiliation and uncertainty. You say nothing more as you go to him and start gently rubbing his shell. You’d done this often for him when you both were younger. The action was soothing to him whenever he was angry and upset about something. When you finally felt him relax, you moved around to his front, hugging him tightly. A few tears slip down your cheeks, adding to the wine stains on his red hoodie. You felt absolutely broken for him.
“Please don’t say you’re fine Raph… not to me…” You attempted to swallow the lump and keep your tears at bay. “It’s okay… It’s okay to admit this is happening to you, and it’s okay to leave…” You choked out a sob. “It’s okay… to not be okay. I’m here for you.”
That was it. Finally, finally, the walls fall down as his arms came around you holding you so tight you could barely breathe. He’d been living a lie for so long, spent too many months with this appalling treatment, but seeing you, hearing that was all it took. The dam broke; he buried his face into your shoulder, shaking slightly as he finally allowed himself to break.
He was crying, you realized as he quietly sobbed, his own tears joining yours as you cried together. “It’s okay, big guy…” you choked out. “It’s gonna be okay…” You rubbed his shell as best you could, being an anchor for him in his time of need.
When he finally looked up, you could see his mask was damp, his expression vulnerable and unsure accompanied with shaky breaths. You suddenly had the urge to kiss him. Where had that come from? You two were just friends… right? Plus, this wasn’t the right time… he needed to get his head right and recover. You shook the thought away and took his hand, guiding him to your couch. “Take that off.” You softly ordered. “I’ll wash it.”
Too exhausted to fight or argue, he listened and removed both his red mask and hoodie. Gently, you took them and threw both items into your washing machine with laundry soap and oxyclean. Hopefully, that would be enough to remove the wine stains.
He relaxed into your couch and called for you. “C’mere.” The request was soft yet held a note of urgency. When you approached, he reached for you and pulled you onto his lap. “Jus’ wanna hold you,” he murmured, needing your comfort and closeness, something he’d been severely lacking in for a long time.
It was easy to melt into his embrace and wrap your arms around him in return. “I gotcha big guy…”
He held you quietly for a long time, just breathing in your scent and taking in your soft energy. This was the turning point, the sign he’d needed to make a permanent change in his life and cut that toxic woman out of his life. He hadn’t felt like he had the strength to do it previously, but with your support, now he did.
“Thank you… for bein’ here…”
“I’ll always be here for you Raph…”
True to his word, he’d made good on his decision to completely cut ties with her. There had been even more yelling and items being thrown at him, but he was done. Once he’d made up his mind, that was it. He was one hundred percent DONE. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to come back from it.
You were there waiting for him when he told you the news and were so happy and relieved or him. His brothers, in turn, were also relieved with Mikey even calling to thank you for being there for his big brother.
He visited you regularly, now having a much better reason to go to that same apartment building. The two of you slowly reconnected and started making up for lost time. You were a crucial part of his recovery and ended up being a major element in his support system. The feelings you had toward him from that fateful night had only grown stronger, but you wouldn’t act on them. You couldn’t, not until he was fully healed.
Raph had been realizing how wrong he’d been to let you go and had vowed to make it up to you. It was little things at first, stopping by after patrols with pizza, sending you a random meme that he hoped would make you laugh, and bringing you your favourite latte in the mornings. He was slowly coming to terms with how much he had missed this and how much he had missed you. This is what a healthy relationship looked like, and he felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier.
It was a few months later that it had finally hit him over the head that what he’d needed and what he truly wanted had been right in front of him all along. He saw you, and when he’d nervously confessed his feelings, he’d been absolutely elated when you’d told him you felt the same way.
That first kiss you two shared had been the pinnacle of his journey to healing.
Afterwards, you’d held him close and whispered these words.
A/N: I’ve been wanting to make another songfic for a while now, and I like this song, so I thought; why not? I think it is kinda fun to do it with Danish songs, ngl, hehe. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy❤️
Song: “Eneste” by Joey Moe.
Danish song with English translation provided. The word "eneste" can best be translated to "only one".
Warnings: Break up, stick and poke tattoos.
Rødt lys, alt stoppede bare, da du tog dine ting og du tog væk her fra / Åbenlyst, så sårbar, burde starte forfra men det går bare ikke.
(Red light, all just stopped, when you took your things and you went away from here / Obvious, so vulnerable, should start over but it just doesn’t work).
There was no other way about it. No roundabout explanation Raph could give anyone, in some last effort attempt to lessen what was so obvious. Raph had fucked up. He had done the exact thing he promised you he wouldn’t do and broke your heart. He should probably at least try to move on, but he just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel right. Just the thought of moving on felt useless to Raph. It just wouldn’t work. Nothing seemed to work without you in his life.
It was so dumb. Raph could easily had done better, yet he hadn’t. He had done the wrong things, said the wrong things, and now you were gone. It happened so quickly. You were fighting. You were pointing out what Raph had done - the thing he himself knew he had done but just wouldn’t admit. Instead he lied, and when you called him out, he had yelled at you, calling you all sorts of horrible things. He had been caught, and now he was somehow trying to shift the blame onto you. Raph had never done such a thing before, and so you were taken aback when he let all his anger out, aiming it straight at you with punches in the form of words like bullets.
When silence finally fell, Raph finally realized what he had done. But it was too late. It was done. You had already started packing your things, refusing to look him in the eyes or speak to him. Even as Raph clung to you, begging you not to leave, telling you how sorry he was and how wrong it was of him, with tears threatening to fall from his eyes, you ignored him. And as you left Raph’s room in a hurry, before quickly making your way out the lair, not speaking a word to anyone you passed, fearing you would break down, Raph’s world stopped. He just stood there, in his room, staring after you.
Søvnløs, natten er der foroven, ordene ligger på tungen, men jeg kan kun forstumme / Hul i byen, men jeg kan knap nok gå med et hjerte, der er så tungt.
(Sleepless, the night above, the words are laying on the tongue, but I can only remain silent / Hole in the city, but I can hardly walk with heart, that is so heavy).
That had been several days ago now. And though Raph regretted not following you, and not trying a little harder to make you stay, Raph did not try to go for you now. Instead he would stay in his bed at night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thinking of all the things he wanted to tell you. How he would hold you close, and cry to you, and tell you how sorry he was. Finally take responsibility for what he did and what he said, and prove to you that he had learned. That he was willing to become better for you. Yet Raph found himself unmoving in his room at night.
On the nights where Leo managed to pull Raph out of his room and force him out on patrol, Raph did everything in his power to avoid you home. But should Raph somehow find himself forced to be somewhere close to where you lived, he would stare in the direction he knew he would be able to find you. And should Raph somehow be able to see your window, he would hope and pray in silence that you would look out and see him. Hoping that if you saw him, you would call for him, telling him that you forgave him. But you never did. And Raph remained unmoving, staring at your window, unable to walk until all three of his brothers pulled him away, forcing him to turn his back on your window.
Der ku’ være 1 mili, 2 mili, 3 mili, 4 milliarder derude / men jeg bli’r derhjemme til duften af dig på min pude.
(There could be 1 bil, 2 bil, 3 bil, 4 billion out there / but I’m staying at home to the smell of you on my pillow).
At some point Raph’s brothers started asking him if it wasn’t about time that he went out with them. The NYPD was throwing something together at the headquarters, and maybe he could meet someone new there. Maybe Vern could throw a party together for them, and invite some people that Raph would be interested in. Maybe even April and Casey knew someone. As his brothers told him; “there’s plenty of fish out there. There’s probably someone else waiting out there for you”.
But Raph told them off, grunting dismissively at them and telling them to bucker off. Once he even threw a weight after Mikey, who had kept asking for a little too long, not taking the hint. Raph did not want to meet someone else. He didn’t want to find someone other than you. He did go with them to any of the parties or get-togethers they tried to drag him to. Instead he stayed in his room, with his head against the pillow that still smelled a little bit like you.
Så ta' mig med dig, la' mig vis dig, gi' mig lidt af det der gir' mig, sommerfugl og mave kriller, lær' mig lidt om alle de midler / der får hjertet til at banke, som er dagen lang / Jeg ved godt jeg åbnede Pandoras boks og nu er det slut med os / Men du er den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste for mig.
(So take me with you, let me show you, give me a little of what gives me, butterflies, belly krill, teach me a little about all those remedies / that makes the heart beat, which is all day long / I know I opened Pandora's box and now it’s the end of us / But you are the only, only, only, only one for me).
Raph found himself thinking about you day in and day out, remembering all the good days the two of you had together. How you would give him that beautiful smile, that would cause an explosion of butterflies to erupt within, making him dizzy with happiness. Just having you around would send Raph to cloud nine, his heart beating so hard in his chest, that he was sure everyone around him could hear it. He loved you, and loved all the things your presence did to him.
But all that was gone now. Raph still loved you deeply. He still yearned for you, missing you everyday and every night. He cursed himself every night for what he had done. He caused this. He was the reason why you decided to end things between you. Raph only had himself to blame for causing the only person he had ever loved to leave him. The only person he would ever love. And now you were gone.
Den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste og jeg tænker på om du mon kommer hjem / og hvis nej, om du så har glemt at / At jeg' den eneste, eneste, eneste, stadigvæk, yeah! / Dit navn der står med blæk for evigt yeah! / Dit navn det står på blæk og det er for evigt, yeah!
(The only, only, only, only one and I’m wondering if you might ever come home / and if not, if you then have forgotten that / That I (am) the only, only only, only one still, yeah! Your name that stands with ink forever yeah! / Your name that stands on ink and it’s forever, yeah!)
For a long time, Raph would pass the entrance to the lair, watching it, hoping that you at any moment would walk in, acting as if nothing was wrong. As if nothing had happened and you and Raph were still happy together. But you never entered the lair like Raph had hoped for. And as time passed on, Raph grew fearful. Had you forgotten him? Had you moved on? Had you forgotten all of your good memories together? Had you found someone else already? Had you decided that Raph was no longer the one for you, while he still found himself stuck on you, firmly believing that you were the one.
Raph found himself looking from the entrance to the ink on his wrist. A small heat at the top left of Raph’s left arm. The same kind of heart one would be able to find on your right wrist. Raph could clearly remember the day you sat with him in his room, having brought a needle for a stick and poke, along with a small bottle of black tattoo ink. That night the two of you had been sitting in Raph’s bed for hours, tattooing each other with the small needle. It was dumb and very stupid. Raph knew that his brothers and Splinter would freak out if they knew. One thing was to let Donnie tattoo him, but Donnie knew what he was doing. Heck, Raph could only imagine how your family would react to you coming home with a tattoo, made by your mysterious boyfriend. But you didn’t care. You were in love, giggling and giving each other many sweet kisses as you tattooed each other.
But now, there were no more giggles and no more kisses. Only silence and longing, along with the aching feeling in Raph’s heart whenever he looked at his wrist, at a permanent memory, missing you by his side.
Stadig for let, men du skredet for længst, og mørke tider har i sinde at forlænge / Der er godt plads i vores dobbeltseng, men jeg fylder den ikk' ud alene.
(Still too easy, but you left long ago, and dark times are intending to prolong / There is plenty of room in our double bed, but I (am) not filling it out alone).
It had now been months since you and Raph broke up. Raph still hasn't mustered up the courage to talk to you, and tell you just how much he missed you. How much he still loved you. How much he wanted you back. But it was simply easier not to do it. Raph really wanted to. He really wanted to jump onto your fire escape, knocking on your window onto you would open it for him, pull you into a long lasting hug, crying all his pains and sorrows to you, and apologizing for everything he had done wrong. But Raph was terrified of what you might say. What hard words you might throw his way. The confirmation that you did in fact, not want to get back to him. It was just so much easier not to talk to you, but instead long and dream for you in the darkness of his room.
Even after several months without you, Raph still hadn’t started taking up the full bed when he was sleeping. He still slept with space next to him, where you used to be. It just felt wrong to sleep there, because what if you one day came back to him…
Der ku være 1 mili, 2 mili, 3 mili, 4 milliarder derude / men jeg bli’r derhjemme til duften af dig på min pude / Så ta' mig med dig, la' mig vis dig, gi' mig lidt af det der gir' mig, sommerfugl og mave kriller, lær' mig lidt om alle de midler / der får hjertet til at banke, som dagen lang / Jeg ved godt jeg åbnede pandoras boks og nu er det slut med os.
(There could be 1 bil, 2 bil, 3 bil, 4 billion out there / but I’m staying at home to the smell of you on my pillow / So take me with you, let me show you, give me a little of what gives me, butterflies, belly krill, teach me a little about all those remedies / that makes the heart beat, which is all day long / I know I opened Pandora's box and now it’s the end of us).
At some point Raph’s brothers got tired of his moodiness and anger, and decided it was time to do something about it. At first they tried to talk to you, but that backfired badly, with you yelling and screaming about how Raph was too afraid to talk to you himself. How he still wouldn’t own up to his mistakes, and then expect that his brothers could fix it for him. But even after they explained to you that Raph did in fact not send them, and that they had come to you on their own, you still weren’t budging. Raph had hurt you, and no matter how long he stayed with his face in the pillows, thinking about you, you weren’t coming back. That led the brothers to their last efforts in an attempt to help Raph move on - bringing dates for him to the lair.
Men du er den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste for mig / Den eneste, eneste, eneste, eneste og jeg tænker på om du mon kommer hjem / og hvis nej om du så har glemt at / At jeg' den eneste, eneste, eneste, stadigvæk, yeah! Dit navn der står med blæk for evigt yeah!
(But you are the only, only, only, only one for me / The only, only, only, only one and I’m wondering if you might ever come home / and if not, if you then have forgotten that / That I (am) the only, only only, only one still, yeah! / Your name that stands with ink forever yeah!)
They told Raph when they brought someone over. No, instead they would let Raph wander out of his room, to find a nervous stranger, sitting in the lair trying to make small talk with either Leo, Donnie or Mikey, trying not to seem freaked out by the large mutant turtles they had met just moments ago. But to everyone's surprise, expert Raph, he had no interest in any of them, straight up telling them to get out of the lair before he personally would throw them out. There was no way he would let someone else take your place, even if you seemed to have forgotten that you were the one for him. But though Raph feared that you had forgotten, he would certainly never forget that you were the only for him. But would he ever try to do anything about it, or let the heart on his wrist be a permanent reminder, of how he broke your heart and let the love of his life go?
Dit navn det står på blæk og det er for evigt, yeah! / Stadig for let / Stadig for let.
(Your name that stands on ink and it’s forever, yeah! / Still too easy / Still too easy).
Raph’s brothers started to get impatient with him. A year had passed, and Raph was still as heavy and sad as the day you left him. There had been no progress. Raph had not done anything to move on, nor had he done anything to try and talk to you. Instead he just sat there and stared at the tattoo on his wrist, remembering how concentrated you were when you made it.
“You can’t just sit there and done nothing!”, Leo finally snapped at Raph one day, after Raph once again had thrown a potential date out the door. “If you really loved them, then how can you just sit here and do nothing?! How can you just take the easy route and do absolutely nothing?!”
That conversation didn’t go too well, with Raph and Leo yelling back and forth, with Mikey and Donnie holding them back, keeping them from fighting one another. But when all was said and done, and Raph once again found himself in his room, his head against his pillow, staring at his wrist, he knew Leo was right. And you were right as well. Raph had just taken the easy way, hiding from confrontation and the thought of losing all chances with you. But that was simply the easy option… but love wasn’t love always surpassed to be easy? Up until the day you broke up, Raph had felt like it was easy to love you. It had been easy being around you. As easy as lobe should be… right?
That night Raph finally did something he should have done a year ago, and made his way towards you home, with the intention of finally talking to you. Maybe you would take him back, or maybe you wouldn’t. What mattered was that Raph finally quite taking the easy way through this, and finally told you how he still loved you, and how you would forever be the only one for him. What you did with that information was all up to you. Raph would leave that to your decision.
I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞
The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔
Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊
Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉
https://gofund.me/58268669 🔗
Please help these people, the ongoing war on Gaza is still taking innocent lifes 🙏
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