I'm T-Rae, but you can call me T, or Rae, or gurrrrrrrrl. (But that last one's only for when you're really excited and just have to share somethin' with me 🤭)
I guess I can't say I'm a self taught artist anymore--not after spending nearly 6 years completing a fine arts bachelor's degree--but I've only just started getting back into art. And techinically my art degree isn't really in... art? It's in design (which is art, but not like, drawing and doing graphics and painting). It's more construction trades adjacent than anything.
For years, my sparkle's been... minimal. [Insert sob story here. Womp womp.] But I just started my Tumblr late last year, not expecting it to be this great outlet, but wow! There are so many amazing artists on here! And with similar interests and fixations, too; I had no idea!
- THINK FAST -
~ My favorite color is purple
~ I am a WOMF (that's old school Liza Koshy for woman)
~ I'm unfortunately/fortunately an empath (catch me cryin' at everythin' how bout dat)
~ I rescued a sweet lovin' doggo, she's amazing 🐾
~ I have a kind and gentle hearted hubby
~ I am brand spankin' new to digital art
~ I play a handful of instruments and write music
~ I'm learning how to knit from YouTube! 🧶
~ I knit my first sweater last year!! 🤩
~ I love, and I mean LOVE, to write
~ Hobbies? (Music, writing, knitting, gaming, sewing, painting... the list keeps growing! 🫥)
~ Current obsession should be obvious by now (TMNT, mostly 2k12)
~ Also starting to get sucked into the TADC fandom... 👀
~ Certified yapper 📣
~ Kind of a chronic perfectionist and people pleaser 😩
I also love being anonymous cause I'm really hard on myself and I tend to worry a lot about what people think of me, or rather, how I think they're perceiving me, so this whole anonymous thing is working in my favor. But PLEASE feel free to ask any fandom/art/story related questions. I never shy from a good ask! 🥰
Shoot, is this too long? I dunno how to intro post. 😅
It was another warm night. The farm house was quiet, the only noise being the occasional gust of wind blowing outside. That and Leo's breathing. You were close to drifting, it didn't sound shallow enough for him to be asleep. He was still playing with your hair, that was more than enough to give him away. "You okay?" you asked, raspy and quiet from drowsiness. He felt you squeeze his arm and he reached for your hand. "Can't sleep.." With some willpower you got yourself to sit up and move to rest higher on the pillows. "C'mere," you said, patting your chest. He turned over and wrapped his arms around your frame as he tucked his head underneath yours. You hummed, voice still laced with sleep but he could hear you smiling. He pressed his ear to your sternum, listening to your heartbeat. Your body was radiating warmth and he nuzzled closer. With one arm draped over him, you used your hand to feel the little ridges on his shell. The other hand held his head gently before you let your fingers start to trace up and down the bridge of his snout and between his eyes. He felt a smile creep up on him and break out across his face. He hummed a little. "What're you doing?" he said, soft and lazy. You kissed his temple. "Tryin to put you to sleep," you smiled, whispering close. "Works on dogs n cats, might work for a turtle.." This made him laugh. He scratched your back while your digits ran along his face. "Are you comparing me to a pet?" "Mm," you giggled sleepily, "domesticated n' everything." "Very flattering," he deadpanned, playfully annoyed. You moved to prop your head on your hand, looking down at him. "I can stop if you want," you teased. He grabbed your hand from underneath you and moved it back to his face. "I never said that.." "Yeah," you laughed, resuming your gentle touches, "that's what I thought." The monotonous movements of your fingers running over him was almost meditative, and he took solace in the touch as it gave him something else to focus on other than his own thoughts. "Love you," he mumbled sleepily. You blushed and smiled before leaning down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "I love you too."
I just finished reading your new chapter and AHHHH I LOVE IT, more subject X hehehehe🤤🤤 also I couldn’t help but notice how he said "Dead master slash FATHER, and soon-to-be dead mate." IS READER PREGNANT?!! 😥
Hi, Anon! 🤩
Thank you SO MUCH!! I'm so glad you're loving the Subject X drama with me... >:)
And I am so sorry for the false hope (?), but noooo, the reader is not pregnant. I might've worded that sentence a little wonky... my bad. 😅 I meant it to seem like X was still talking about Master Splinter. Dead master/father, and then the "soon-to-be dead mate" was more of a crass way of saying he plans to unalive the reader character...
I'll be getting into this in the next chapter, too (heehheee), but Subject X is basically a blank slate. He's physically grown, but he has no memories of an upbringing or of having a relationship with the reader. And yet, there is something biological that keeps him from wanting to really hurt her, so he compensates by making these horrible comments to her as if she doesn't really mean anything, but he doesn't understand or maybe hasn't even noticed how possessive he is of her from the moment he met her. And he's read all of their files, so he knows that she and Leo are an item, so referencing her as Leo's "mate" is his way of acknowledging that relationship she has with his counterpart.
I hope I didn't give away too much 🙈 And I hope that helps! Thank you again for your message and for reading my story this far!! 💙
Book 2, Chapter 17: Snippet from "Below the Surface (Leonardo x Reader)
P.S./Warnings: Heavy themes of Angst, Anxiety, Trauma, Blood, Violence. Suggestive (but no smut ever). PG-13 content! Characters are aged up. Reader discretion is advised.
Snippet Word Count: 1,207
It’s late. Or maybe it’s early now. Leo’s lost his sense of time. Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t sleep and headed into the dojo to work out his anxious energy. Last night marked two months since you’ve been missing. He swipes his dual katanas through the air in rapid succession, working through some of the most advanced katas to keep his mind and senses sharp. He’s sweating, which is a new sensation for him, and the rush of air through his movements feels strange as the liquid cools his overheating body.
He’s never been able to self-regulate his body temperature like this before. Donnie hasn’t had much time to look into the newest developments of their mutagenic transition into adulthood–not that Leo would have him split his attention between something so unimportant compared to trying to find you–but it’s something Leo’s kept tabs on to help occupy and organize his thoughts in the meantime. His journal entries are riddled with details, observations of his brother's territorial behaviors finally mellowing out, and notes on their physical developments–anything to distract him from a reality without you.
A frustrated puff of air escapes from Leo’s nostrils as he finishes the final swing of an advanced move, freezing in frame as he catches his breath. Moonlight filters through the grate over the large oak tree behind him, a flash of white catching on the edge of his patterned blade. Despite the hours of training, the hours of attempted meditation and journaling, nothing he does dampens the fear in his heart. He’s not one to lose hope, but with little to no evidence of you in the city, his nightmares are filled with the worst taunts of potential realities. He tilts his blade a fraction, just enough to catch his reflection in them. His white eyes stare sharply back, his blue mask damp with sweat. He used to think the thought of you dying at the hands of a mutated Shredder was the most terrifying. He remembers the countless nights he’d shoot upright in bed, his hand pressed firmly against his plastron as the visual of the Super Shredder’s large hand gripping around your throat, a dagger-mutated fist driven into your ribs, and red running down the black asphalt… Leonardo takes a shaky breath and blinks his white eyes back to blue, remembering the night he walked across the hall to find you perfectly safe across the hall, standing sleepily in your doorway. He remembers your rosy cheeks, how you tiredly rubbed your eye, and the sweet sound of your voice as you asked him what was wrong. His heart throbs. If only he could do that now. Would he ever be able to hear your voice again? His eyes stare back into his storm-ridden soul, restless thoughts flitting past them. In a swift motion, he disengages the stance and skillfully spins his swords to sheath them on his shell.
Leo takes a deep, unsettled breath and walks over to the shrine his late father created for his family. He unstraps his swords and leans them against the small cabinet, staring at the newly added photos on the floating shelves. He finds your beautiful face and traces your features with glossy eyes. “I will find you,” Leo says just above a whisper. He speaks it as a promise, a vow. Something as sure as the breath in his lungs. Tears prick the corners of his eyes, and he closes them, his head bowing slightly. He can’t fall apart now; he isn’t allowed to. Instead, Leo imagines you standing behind him, your arms wrapped tightly around him, palms pressed flat against the front of his plastron. He imagines your warmth enveloping him, and for a moment it actually feels like you’re there.
There isn’t a single room in this lair that doesn’t remind him of you. The dojo, his room, your room, the hallways, the common area, the lab, the kitchen… They all say the same thing: you were here. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, his chest aching, his stomach a twisting mess. He clenches his fists at his sides as the memories of you replace his worried thoughts. This dojo, around the same time of night, was the first time you held his hand. He was just coming back from sneaking out to help Karai and Shinigami, dressed in all black, and you were fighting the turmoil in your soul that the Shredder had placed there, up late practicing your katas. He remembers the countless nights he would come back from patrol to find you bundled up in your patchwork blanket on the couch in the common room, having tried to wait up for his return, but unable to keep your eyes open. And the first time you genuinely smiled at him, and how his heart skipped a beat. All of the evenings he’d find you rushing around the kitchen, busy cooking something amazing for his family. Game nights, movie nights, sitting close enough to each other that he could feel your warmth, but not so close that he’d raise the suspicions of his brothers. He was too afraid of the change then. The what-ifs. How stupid he feels to know he once felt that way about you. If he knew then what he knows now, he would have jumped into the newness of it all with both feet and left behind all of the panicked worry and insecurities behind, just to spend another day with you at his side. Then he remembers the bittersweet feeling after watching you walk out the door with Casey and April to experience a movie theater for the first time, and the spike of jealousy he felt when you returned wearing Casey’s black sweatshirt. He couldn’t stand it! The thought makes him chuckle, a watery, humorless laugh that bursts from his gut before he can stop it. He was so jealous then. But the first time you kissed him? It’s a memory he holds closest to his heart. Standing atop a roof, the sun rising to his left, shadows of blue and gray cast to his right. The familiar scent of your shampoo, and your warm hands caressing the back of his neck, tangling in the tails of his blue mask…
A sharp emotion stabs through Leo’s chest, and he inhales quickly, bracing himself against the wall beside the shrine. Memories of you flood his thoughts, his senses, and he doesn’t dare stop them. Every sensation of you is one he hopes to hold onto for eternity. Even the memories that hurt. The memories where he let you down, where you were injured on patrols, the pain you experienced as your traumatic memories resurfaced, nearly drowning in the lair, all of it. Whether it brings him joy or brings him to his knees, Leo will remember everything about you and keep those thoughts tucked safely into his heart until the day he can make new ones with you again. And if he ever gets the chance to, he won’t take a single moment for granted. Leo swears that he will live in the fullness of all that is you, giving you equal parts his heart and the freedom for whatever life it is you want to choose.
✨A/N: What's this?? An update???? Wow. I guess it is. I am very, sincerely, sorry that it's taken so long to update this story. I've removed the "weekly updates" note from the title, so that I'm not making any more false promises. If you have enjoyed this series so far and want to see it finished, please be friendly and drop a comment here or reach out via my Tumblr! 💙 Thank you, and I appreciate you all!
If you'd like to read the rest of this Fanfic, you can check it out at: Quotev Link Here
Ngl, posting that short story Supernatural fanfic has made me feel like I'm cheating on my TMNT Leo x reader that I haven't updated in a couple of weeks... I'm sorry!! I have almost 6000 words on the chapter update, I'm just really stressin' about Subject X! I want him to come off a certain way, but I've never written for the new character before... And I woke up this morning with this short story in my brain and just started texting it out... It took on a mind of its own, I swear!
Also! If you follow me for TMNT content and don't like Supernatural, please don't unfollow me. Just go to your settings and filter the #supernatural tag. Then it won't pop up for you! 💖
Warnings: Dis is spicccyyy~ Very suggestive (but no smut ever). PG-13 content! Jumping out of my comfort zone with this one... I hope you likeee. No use of (Y/N), only nicknames.
Word Count: 2,907
At first, you and Cas's relationship starts off slow. Cautious. It was new for both of you, and you particularly felt it was important to keep it from your brothers while you figured everything out together. Sam might understand, but you know how close Dean is with Cas, and if he ever found out Cas was dating his baby sister? You shiver just thinking about it. And besides, all of this sneaking around, holding hands when they're not looking, stealing hot kisses in alleys, it's exciting.
Sam and Dean know Cas has feelings for you; you can tell in the way they give him those pitying looks. And Cas has even told you on a few occasions that they've warned him not to get too close to you. They know you're with someone, they know you've been sneaking men in and out of your room, but what they don't know is that it's one man, and that man--or, well, angel--is their honorary brother, Castiel.
Once the awkward newness of your relationship with Cas developed into something stronger, neither of you has been able to stay apart for long. Even when he’s out and can't answer Sam or Dean's prayers, if you call for him, he's there within seconds. You know it's an incredible privilege to have him at your beck and call, and sometimes when he answers, the first words out of his mouth are, "I'm sorry, but I don't have long." And then it takes everything in your willpower not to pounce on him where he stands. Grab him by the top of his tan trench coat, smash your lips to his, throw him on your bed, and keep him from his duties for hours…
You haven't seen him in the last week, and you swear your heart physically hurts with how much you miss him. Sam and Dean have prayed, you've called for him, and he still hasn't shown. Instead, he calls using a phone, answering the not-so-urgent questions your brothers had and then disappearing again. You don't dare talk to him in front of your older brothers like that; you're sure they'd be able to sense something's off.
But Castiel called you last night, after everyone had gone to bed, just to let you know that he was alright, to apologize profusely for not answering your calls, and that he misses you terribly. He explained briefly that he was following up on ‘something important’ and would see you soon, but tonight, you didn't plan on taking ‘see you soon’ for an answer. You know it would only take him seconds to flap his wings and get his butt over to see you, even just for a few minutes, and you knew he wasn't on any life-critical mission because if he were, he would’ve told you. In all honesty, you feel like he’s been avoiding you this past week, and you’re not sure why. Your relationship is the best it’s ever been. You both openly communicate with one another; you spend hours together late at night cuddling, talking, and then there’s the intimacy.
At first, Cas was too nervous, worried he might hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable, so everything was slow. He wanted to make sure everything was done right by you. He was so timid that he would never initiate physical affection. He’d let you come to him first and make sure it was absolutely what you wanted without any persuasion on his part, but now, especially in the last couple of months, it felt like he couldn’t keep his hands off you! Whenever your brothers weren’t paying attention, or they’d round a corner before the two of you did, Cas would still for a second or two, kissing your lips, the back of your neck, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He loves you, and he reminds you every day of how much, so you don’t understand where his standoffish behavior is coming from. You’re determined to find out.
Sitting on a stool at the old-school dining table in the men of letters’ kitchen, you wonder about Castiel. You roll a glass of water, listening to the quiet roll of the rounded edge on the wood table, watching the glass sweat condensation. It isn’t like Castiel to go this long without seeing you, but it isn’t unlike him to avoid. He knows he’s sometimes too direct in conversations and how that can put some people off, but you’re not some people. You’re his girlfriend. And you miss him. Terribly. Your blood runs hot, and your body aches for him. Just the thought of hearing his deep, gravelly voice raises the hair on your neck and fills your stomach with a tingling sensation. You wet your lips and gulp. That angel practically has your knees weak just at the thought of him, and he has the audacity to be away from you?
"Hey, there, Reckless," Dean says, using your childhood nickname.
You startle, sitting up a little straighter in your chair as he passes you to the refrigerator.
“Woah,” Dean says, gesturing at you. “What’s got you so jumpy?"
You shake your head, trying to clear your completely inappropriate thoughts. "Nothing, just… couldn't sleep." You pull your glass of water from the table and sip. The cold condensation drips down your neck and onto the warm skin at your chest, sending a shiver down your spine. You can’t shake the thought of Castiel running his tongue across to catch the cool drops of water…
"Nightmares?" Dean asks, opening the fridge and grabbing a glass bottle.
"I didn't sleep to find out," you say with a small shrug. You clear your throat quietly, begging your mind to focus on something other than that hot, hot angel. "You?"
Dean grunts, popping the cap off his beer using the edge of the countertop. "Smart," he says, taking a swig.
You stare at him from under your brow, giving him a stern, I-know-you're-avoiding-answering-my-question look. He catches it, and a small acknowledging chuckle escapes him.
"Yeah, okay, you got me," he says with a shrug, taking another drink. "I had a nightmare. It's not the end of the world."
"Not right now, it isn't," you grumble, sipping your water.
"Touche." He leans against the countertop, crossing his arms casually. "So, you gonna call on one of your secret men to help you sleep again tonight?" Dean asks teasingly.
You scoff, grabbing the hand towel beside you and throwing it at his face. He laughs, swiping it off and throwing it back at you before pushing off the counter.
"Alright, geeze, take a joke," Dean says, still grinning. He walks toward the hall but stops just long enough to say, "Night, kiddo."
"Night, De," you say, unable to help the smile on your face. No matter how old you get, you think he’ll always call you that.
After a few more minutes, and finishing your glass of water, you only grow more restless. You consider calling for Cas, but you have to consider what you’d say to him. Right now, you don’t know whether it’s the lack of sleep, the stress from your latest hunt, or just the days without seeing him, but you aren’t thinking about talking… You tap your fingers on the old 50s-style dining table, mulling over your options. An idea pops into your head, and you bite your lip to keep your excited grin from taking over your face. You jump up from your seat and rush out of the kitchen, only to run face-first into your giant brother.
Sam laughs, grabs you by the shoulders to steady you, then stretches you back to arm's length. "Geeze, Lex, where's the fire?" He laughs.
You try to fight off the blush that rises in your face, embarrassed that he caught you rushing off, and thankful he can’t read your thoughts. "Nowhere, I just... have to pee..." you lie.
He raises his eyebrows, knowing that you're lying, but releases you, raising his hands defensively as he slides to the side out of your way.
You glance down the left side of the hall, where your room is, and then turn to the right, off towards the bathroom. You have to follow through with it now.
"Night, Lexy," Sam says, using another variation of your nickname.
You can hear the grin in his voice, and if you had something to throw, you'd toss it back at him, too. You stand in the bathroom for a couple of minutes, mess with your hair to pass the time, just long enough to be plausible before sneaking back off to your room.
You try to calm your racing heart and end up reorganizing your room in the process. You make your bed, clean off the top of your dresser, and kick your dirty clothes into their corner, all the while grumbling irritably. “I mean, what is his problem?” You throw your hands up before picking up another article of clothing. “Does he not want to see me? He’s never too busy for me,” you mumble the last part, feeling a tad bit childish, but unable to help your frustration. “I mean… Cas couldn’t possibly be…” You plop down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the edge of the dirty sweatshirt in your hands. “Could he be getting bored with me?” You glance down at your casual pajamas and worry you might not be putting in enough effort to keep the attention of an angel. He’s literally seen other angels, in their purest of forms, and here you are, sitting in a baggy white T-shirt and sweatpants.
Just as you finish your sentence, you hear a brief flutter of angel’s wings from behind you, and your stomach drops.
“I could never be bored with you.”
Castiel’s deep voice rings in your ears, and the hair on the back of your neck stands. You shiver.
“Cas,” you say, breathless from arguing with yourself. You want to turn around, but with the blush creeping over your cheeks, you freeze, pulling at the fabric in your lap.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you this past week,” Cas says, his footsteps nearing your bed. “I didn’t realize you–”
“Where have you been?” You scold, jumping up with new energy and facing him. His blue eyes peer into yours, and his eyebrows pinch together as he pouts.
“I didn’t mean to–”
“I’ve been calling for you, praying for you, and all you’ve given me is a few phone calls in over seven days?” You say, tossing your sweatshirt in the corner vigorously. Castiel starts to open his mouth, but closes it, and you look away. Your masking anger melts away, and you fidget with your wrists and fingers.
Cas walks up to you with slow, sure steps and gently takes your hands in his. “I am sorry, my love,” he says just over a whisper. “I didn’t mean to cause you to worry.”
You squeeze his hands, watching them intertwine for a moment before pulling one from his grasp and lightly punching his chest. “Why have you been avoiding me?” You look up then, right into those cerulean blue eyes of his, and hold his confused gaze sternly.
“I– Why did you hit me?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Answer my question.” You say, landing your finger on his chest. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body, and all you want to do is draw yourself closer, wrap yourself in his coat, and kiss him until the sun rises, but you’re too stubborn for that.
“I haven’t been–”
“Yes, you have,” you say quickly, not allowing him to finish his more-than-likely lame excuse.
He takes a breath in and sighs, nervously shifting his weight and looking off to the side.
You’ve caught him red-handed.
“I was…” Cas starts, but hesitates. “Afraid.”
“Afraid?” You repeat, shocked. You instantly soften, relaxing your hand against his chest. “Afraid of what, Cas?”
“Afraid that I was taking things too quickly, and, well…” He stops again, but this time, a rosy pink rises in his cheeks as he continues. “Too much.”
You cover your mouth as a smile takes over, and bite back a laugh to just a quiet chuckle.
“Why are you laughing at me?” Cas asks in all seriousness. “I am telling you the truth.”
“Did you feel like it was too much, or were you just worried that I thought it was too much?” You ask, smirking even as you remove your hand to place it back on his chest. His hand squeezes your other one, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of yours.
“I thought that you might need some… space.” Cas explains timidly.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because Dean–”
“Stop right there,” you say abruptly, pumping the air with your free hand.
Cas stares at you earnestly, and you swear you can see his whole heart on his sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” you say unbelievingly, “but what is it that De said to you to make you think I wouldn’t want you around?”
“He said that you particularly don’t like to be coddled. And that I needed to back off because you were…” His eyes flick away from yours a moment before realigning, a deep sigh pushing its way past his lips, which draws your attention to them. You watch his mouth as he says. “...seeing somebody.”
“The only person I’m seeing is you,” you say quickly, catching yourself leaning in. You stop, trying your best to hold your ground. You look up at him through lashes, and your hand, against your better judgment, grabs hold of his jacket’s lapel, clinging to it tightly. “I only want you,” you say just above a whisper.
“Oh,” Cas says, blinking as the realization hits him. “Oh, you mean to say that you want–”
Before he can finish spelling your desires out, you pull him to you and press your lips to his. He instantly melts to your touch, his hot breath mingling with yours in a desperate kiss. He lets go of your hand to wrap his arms tightly around you, lifting your feet from the floor and spinning you around, which elicits a giggle from you, and he swears electricity strikes his heart. You pull away just enough to look in his eyes, and he says, “Why didn’t you just ask?”
“I know you’re comfortable with the whole direct communication thing,” you say, keeping your voice hushed, “but I thought you were avoiding me. You didn’t answer my prayers, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You could never bother me,” he says seriously, letting you go slowly so that your body runs down his on your way to the floor.
“Would you do me a favor, Castiel?” You ask sweetly, using his full name.
A shiver runs down his spine, and he hums. “Anything for you.”
“Would you not listen to a word either one of my brothers says about me?” You lean up, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before trailing down his jaw.
“Well, they say a lot of things,” Cas states, swallowing thickly as he feels your warm mouth meet the sensitive skin on his neck. His grip tightens unintentionally at your waist.
“And?” You ask, sliding your hands into his coat and running them from his chest, down his strong abdomen, untucking his white button-down. Your fingers trace the top of his black dress pants, teasing to undo his belt while you trail kisses at his collarbone.
“And I won’t listen to a word they say,” Cas melts, his mind filling with a distracting buzzing energy. He leans into you, lowering his hands to your thighs, his chin briefly resting on your chest before he hoists you up into his arms. He squeezes your legs tight, his grip sliding up to your rear end as he kicks his shoes off. His eyes are glossed over with desire and are locked onto yours as he carefully crawls onto your bed, laying you down beneath him.
“That’s my angel,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his ear, then his jaw, making your way back to his lips.
He hums, and the vibration in his chest rumbles against yours as he presses you into your mattress.
“I love it when you call me that,” he murmurs, his voice low and quiet, only for you to hear.
You smile widely at him, pulling his coat off, to which he quickly shrugs, and begins unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his eyes on you. As his shirt slides off his shoulders, his hands immediately find the hem of your baggy shirt. He slides his warm palms firmly up your sides, grazing the edge of your bra as he draws the fabric over your head, leaving you shivering in the cool air of the bunker before he pulls you close again.
It doesn’t take long before his lips are meeting yours again, but this time with a much more confident, driving passion. His tongue mingles with yours, his hands squeeze your sides, lifting you just enough to slide under the covers with you. He kisses down your neck, and his right hand slides over your arm, taking your hand and drawing it over your head.
“I missed you,” you whisper breathlessly, arching your back into his body.
“And I,” he says in between kisses to your warm skin, “missed you.”
✨A/N: So... how are we feeling? Definitely not my standard content... But I only have like 2 seasons of Supernatural left before I've completed watching it for the first time, and I've discovered something about myself... I am neither a Dean or Sam girly... 👀👉👈 Should this be a mini series...?
Same anon here dw girl listen I kind of know what it’s like with a panic disorder (my GAD has manifested into one) and girly you honestly need to figure out your life FIRST then think about writing the fic
Hi again! 🥹💙
Thank you so much. That's exactly what I'm working on. Stress and anxiety tend to ebb and flow for me, like a pendulum on one of those big old clocks. Somedays/weeks/months it's like I forget I even have anxiety or chronic pain, then somedays/weeks/months it swings the other way, and it's just unbearable. I'm just trying to go with the current right now!
But writing is one of the things I really, really enjoy! So I will be working on the story, and as soon as I can, I'll post a nice big update for you lovely readers. I really appreciate you all! 💙
How are you doing when it comes to the next chapter? Its been 2 weeks and im not trying to sound impatient im just curious
Hi, Anon! 💜
No worries at all! If I were in your shoes, I'd be asking the same thing. I have progress made, just not quite finished with it yet. These last 2 weeks, a lot has happened behind the scenes. My panic disorder has decided to give me a run for my money (yippy-kai-yay). There was a big stressor with family two weeks ago that seeped into last week. And since last week, I've been working from 8 am to 9 pm, though sometimes even as late as 11 pm. Every chance I get to sit down and write, my eyes droop, and I can't even focus on the page because I'm a bit strung out right now...
That being said, I will be removing the "weekly updates" title on my Quotev story, just so there is no longer false promises. I'm unable to keep up at the moment, and of course it's right at the juicy parts that I've been waiting to write for months! I literally dream about the scenes I have coming up next for y'all...
Please hang in there and know I'm working away at it! And in the meantime, I know it's not much, but my ask box will be open! 💙
Y'all, I've been SLACKIN' on these chapter updates. And I swear I feel so guilty, but I have been in a whirlwind of busy (and stress) these last few weeks. I'm right in the middle of a career change, plus my family decided to start actin' up and pullin' me into their nonsensicalness, and I have a collection of doctor's appointments to go to (and that's on✨chronic illnesses✨). Please don't be mad 😭 I promise I'm working on the story! It's just a little slow going right now...
The latest chapter for Below the Surface IS SO AMAZING!! But i have a question, what are your plans for Y/N and Subject X dynamic? Will he have a sick and twisted fondness for Y/N since he’s “just like” my beautiful, amazing, fantastic, ORIGINAL Leonardo 🤔
AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH! 🤗🙈 I'm worried it might be a bit heavy for some readers, but I hope it doesn't scare anyone too much!
Eeehehehehehe~ >:) The reader and Subject X's dynamic has so much potential!! I am very excited to finally be tackling this. I have lots of ideas, so everything is up in the air, buuuut... I do know that I want Subject X to be harsh. He is Leo biologically, but Stockman and Tiger Claw have combined their knowledge to tweak his DNA and chemical makeup just enough to sharpen him around the edges in hopes of creating the perfect, obedient soldier. Our beautiful, amazing, fantastic, ORIGINAL Leonardo is driven strongly by loyalty, and that's the main characteristic that Stockman wanted to try and keep intact... but did he...?
The reader and Subject X's dynamic is going to be a fun one to flesh out. I am considering toying with the idea of a sick/twisted sort of fondness for the reader OR maybe an actual, real fondness for the reader that he doesn't realize is happening. Then he'd have to choose loyalty between his master, Tiger Claw, or the reader...? I don't know, but I'm imagining lots of juicy drama... >:)
And alternatively, I could just make him evil all around. He could be the most twisted, antagonistic, violent version of Leo possible. All of the bad habits of his could be intensified, and couple that with his sharp senses and incredible skills? I wouldn't want to be between him and his prey...
Book 2, Chapter 16: Snippet from "Below the Surface (Leonardo x Reader) - Weekly Updates!"
P.S./Warnings: Heavy themes of Angst, Anxiety, Trauma, Blood, Violence. Suggestive (but no smut ever). PG-13 content! Characters are aged up. Reader discretion is advised.
Snippet Word Count: 1,222
MAJOR CHAPTER SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! >:3
Your morning alarm is going off, trying to wake you from your heavy sleep, and you groan. “Five more minutes,” you mumble, but as you move your jaw, pain radiates up to your ear, and you pull your eyebrows together. Why do I hurt? You wonder, sleep thickly coating your consciousness. Then you realize it’s not your morning alarm, and you’re not lying comfortably in bed. Your body is pressed against rough concrete, your face smushed uncomfortably to the floor, and the alarm blaring through your cell is deafeningly loud.
You squeeze your eyes shut before blinking them open, anxiety instantly soaking your senses. The scene is overwhelming. A deep red light flashes over the walls out of pace with the loud noise. Every hair on your body stands as a sliver of hope rises into your chest. Did they finally find me? You think as your mind threads together the pieces of reality. You inhale a sharp breath at the pain of pushing off the ground. The entire right side of your body is asleep, tingling with painful static as you get into a seated position. There’s yelling, and the unorganized chatter of Footbots hits your ears before you see them rush in through the right-side doorway, past the front of the wall of cells, and down the hallway dead ahead. They disappear down the corner, taking a left. That must be the way out, you think. You have to squint to make out the figures, and you wonder if your vision is blurry from the taste of sleep still lingering on you, or from the beating you took earlier.
“What is going on?” Your cell neighbor asks, her voice cutting through the alarm system.
“I don’t know,” you holler over the noise.
“I will tear those creatures apart if given the chance! Rrrrakka, rakka!” She yells.
“You think it’s a jailbreak?” You ask.
“It must be,” she yells back.
You had turned your head to hear her more clearly, but blurry movement in the hall catches your eye, and you quickly whip your head back to attention. The movement makes your head spin, and you groan. Coupled with the concussive alarm and the flashing red lights, the sensation makes your stomach turn. Something runs into the bars of your cell, and you jolt back, landing on your backside with your hands extended behind. You squint your eyes, trying to make out what kind of creature it is. It’s green, and maybe a little blue? You try to focus, but your head is still spinning. Then, you hear your name. Then again. And again, and you recognize the voice right away.
“Leo?” You ask, hope spreading like wildfire. “Leonardo, is that you?”
The green figure works away at breaking the padlock, silver shining metal brightly reflecting the flashing lights. Your vision dances with multiple people in front of you, and you ground yourself against the concrete, focusing all of your attention until your vision narrows in. You see three, then two, then just one mutant turtle before you. Green skin. Blue bandana. Dual katanas.
“Leo,” You say his name again, tears instantly pricking your eyes. You can’t believe it. Leonardo snaps the padlock off the door to your cell and swings your door open. His eyes are all white, and his brow is pinched down, focused, serious. A shocked sob bursts out of you as he reaches his hand out to you. You take it, and he pulls you to your feet with one easy motion, scooping you up in his arms bridal style.
“Wait, we have to help her, too,” you say, looking over to your neighbor’s cell. A tall teal-green lizard-like mutant stands at the bars, holding onto two of them, and for a moment you feel like you’ve seen her somewhere before. You swear you see her mouth move, but you can’t hear her voice over the noise anymore. Before you can ask her to repeat herself, Leo takes off into a powerful sprint. You gasp, clinging as tightly as you can to his neck, the sudden motion making your head swim again. “Wait!” You yell. “We can’t leave her behind!”
Leo doesn’t respond, and you frown. He runs with you down the hall and takes a sharp right at the end.
“Wait,” you say, “are you sure this is the right way?”
He nods his head. One quick, sharp motion.
You frown again, watching behind him as the hallway grows longer and longer. You look down and notice his katanas neatly strapped on his shell. He’s wearing his old set, the gold-handled, red-wrapped dual katanas that were his trademarked look before his father passed. Your eyebrows knit together. Something doesn’t feel right, and you relax your grip to lean back just enough to see his face. Leo’s eyes are still solid white, narrowed and focused on the path ahead. Not once does he turn to look at you.
“L-Leo?” You ask, your flame of hope growing unsteady.
He slows his pace, gradually coming to a stop. The alarm is still blaring, the red light flashing over the extra-wide hallway, but he’s standing completely still, his face scrunched. Your heart rate spikes, your eyes flicking over his features, trying to figure out what’s wrong. You open your mouth to ask, but before the words can leave your mouth, he speaks up.
“You reek,” he spits out.
You flinch. “W-What?”
“I said… you. Reek.” Leo’s voice is a low growl, and as his white eyes blink, he tilts his head toward you, blinks again, and reveals his stormy eyes accented by black sclera.
You shout and immediately try to push him away, but his grip is strong, and your arms are too weak. You feel a low rumble rise from his plastron, and a deep, sinister laugh emits from behind his teeth. You look up in horror, watching his face contort. His white teeth are sharp, pointed, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.
“What’s the matter?” The creature asks, his voice an echo of your Leo’s, and distorted in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Don’t you still love me?”
“Let me go!” You shout, slamming your hands against his chest as hard as you can.
He huffs, the sharp grin fading from his face. “Okay.”
Without warning, his tight grip releases you, and you fall flat on your back on the concrete. The wind knocks clean out of your lungs, and you wheeze, desperate to gather air back into them.
The creature laughs again. “Alright, cut the lights!” He hollers over the alarm. “And shut that noise off!”
Your pained gasps and moans are suddenly the only sound in the hall, bouncing off the hard surfaces, piercing your ears. You inhale sharply, trying to get off the floor, but your arms shake uncontrollably, and you fall back down. You hear the creature laugh again, a blood-curdling, horrifying sound. “What are you?” You cry, gritting your teeth.
“I’m subject X, or subject 3 if you care for the details,” the creature says casually. “But you can call me Leo.”
“You are not Leo!” You shout with all the strength you have left. You look up just in time to see his smirk turn down.
“I am,” Subject X says, his nostrils flaring. “And I’m better in every way.”
✨A/N: So... how are we feeling about this latest development...? 👀👉👈
If you'd like to read the rest of this Fanfic, you can check it out at: Quotev Link Here
Thinking about your oc that's suppose to be a cousin to casey. I'm thinking about them arguing like cousins who are a lot like siblings because they played a lot as children. Also thinking about the 90s movie. Thinking about how your oc would fit into that and go with casey to help the turtles 🐢
@darkcrowprincess
Oh!! this is a great one and not something I get to talk about a lot! I do have a doodle of them as kids tho.
In the first chapter of Fleeting it describes sort of the dynamic they develop as children, and how that dynamic eventually breaks down into estrangement over the years and as their circumstances and the losses they suffer shape them, and how they deal with that truama, and how that trauma affects them/how they engage with other people, especially the two of them.
When we first encounter Harley in the story, from the outside perspective of Splinter we observe a clearly strained and hostile relationship between Harley and Casey-- that does kindof show itself to be tentatively sibling-like, with some serious hurt feelings not being addressed.
In the 90s movies! The vibe is very different! Because the Jones' don't own the farmhouse, April does!
In that series however-- Harley does not have any other family except for Casey, and so despite maybe not being the most exemplary role model for a ward-- he has sole guardianship of her. It's a little like... the dynamic between Carly and Spencer from iCarly, where the older brother figure seems somewhat irresponsible while the younger sibling appears more mature.
They have a much closer relationship in the 90s iteration since Casey does take the role of 'big brother' and is legally her guardian, even if he isn't always the most reliable 'parent'.
I would think that after the whole ambush at April's shop, Casey would need to stop by his place to pick up a few things and let Harley know he's gonna be out of town for a bit, in which she demands to know where the hell he's going, and April goes in to try and smooth things over and pretend it's like a 'couple's getaway' thing, and Harley is having absolutely none of it.
'The NEWS LADY? HOW? Did he blackmail you? You can do better, I promise.' She's also just kinda nosy and wants to know where he's going and why, and what she's supposed to do while he's gone.
I think it's something like two weeks???
Anyway, through some meddling and Mikey and Donnie also being nosy, they climb the fire escape to eavesdrop on the arguing up in the apartment and Harley catches sight of them and then the turtle's out of the bag at that point. So she tags along.
Her and Mikey end up becoming fast friends??? I suppose it's friends, he enjoys riling her up and she gets riled pretty easily in this iteration and so Mikey makes Harley is personal teasing target as a way to sort of distract himself and vent in the wake of... yknow, everything.
Harley knows he's messing with her, she more or less plays along with it.
I don't think i'd foresee anything romantic with Harley and Leo in this iteration, mostly because I haven't really thought too much about this iteration since I tend to stick to the animated ones~
But she'd get along pretty well with Leonardo in general since she's studious and considerate.
