I think it might be a bit hard to read if so please ask me and I will explain. Thanks :D And yes this is important for the story if you think it's filler XD it's suppose to help you all understand the complexity of Leo/Mikey


Michelangelo's last memory of a childhood was when everything was happy and cherished. When Donatello and Raphael were still with them. Leonardo had never been so rough with him, never so violent when he did something wrong, but loving and always displayed how much he cared about their attempts.

Donatello suddenly vanishing in the night, never saying a word to the eldest, had taken a bit of Leonardo's love away. His eyes dulled and his words turned colder towards his two remaining brothers. Even when they were clinging to his legs crying as the small bruises would appear on their arms from a small mistake of being 'sinful': hugging Leonardo in public.

"Michelangelo," Soft words that nudged with their sound of each syllable didn't even budge the sleeping turtle up but threw Michelangelo's mind in more turmoil.

The memories stung his eyes as he felt something light grip his arm. The slight pressure made his body freeze while his brain drifted to after the time Raphael had left. To when he had been given the necklace. He had been considered for a month as an enemy.

Leonardo, his eldest brother, had visited often as the interrogator. Had come waving the flower across his chest as he began degrading Michelangelo for such words... such sinful words and actions... along other things.

The tears stung harder as they came faster. He struggled to move but the grip on his arm tightened making him feel the pain of what Leonardo did that one time as a child to reprimand him...

"You're pathetic." Leonardo had said only a few days before Michelangelo was cleared from the records. "They had the decency to leave! They had the guts to go where they wanted... YOU just stayed." the glowering look, the heavy panting breathing, the fear and shame Michelangelo felt only sharpened at Leonardo's next word, "Pathetic."

The pain that laced through his arm at the sudden tightened grip the harsh twist of hand on scales in a indian burn then slowly just the feeling of his brother's hands swiftlyg moving to trail from his beak downwards slightly to grip his throat. A thumb reaching up to push into his mouth to hold his tongue down silencing any sounds.

He remembered all of these things that had happened but even as they came to the forefront of his mind they vanished as he opened his eyes looking up into Leonardo's cold blue glowing eyes the small shine of concern there but it faded instantly when Michelangelo identified it.

"Michelangelo?" Michelangelo blushed feeling the hot air of his brothers breath caress his neck and beak. The look of worry and something else flashed across Leonardo's eyes making Michelangelo confused before he pulled back turning his head a look of small confusion on his face, "It is about time you woke up. Training started five minutes ago." The tone turned harsh as Leonardo stood up his hands gripping his cloak as he walked out of the room growling out words for Michelangelo to get dressed and meet him with the other black robes in the training grounds.

Michelangelo pushed himself up onto his feet hissing at the pain that laced through his body, the small bumps and bruises showing against his green skin. He took a deep breath as he stumbled to his folded clothing sat in the center of the table on the other side of the room. His eyes slightly faded in before he closed them feeling with the tip of his fingers the hard smooth edge of the furniture in which his black outfit sat.

A deep breath came as he opened them forcing them to focus on the fabric. In only a week he had been reduced to a whining child weakly trying to stay alive with the other men laughing at him.

"How shameful." Michelangelo said as he stood up on quivering legs pulling the night gown up over his body. He set night clothing aside, artistically folding it before hand, then he grabbed the pants tugging them on slowly over his ass. His brain only focusing on one thing at a time being: Leo will be back, get done soon.

A small noise outside caused him to look over at the door nearly falling down as the blast shook the whole foundation of the camp. He stood up, all his weight put against the table, before he grabbed his shirt, shoes, bracers, and gloves. He walked over to the door, mask slowly stitching itself to his face from his magic. The flower floating from the desk twinned itself, thorns and all, in the tails that flowed out from behind Michelangelo as the orange magic user opened the door allowing the dust to come in covering his body as he coughed.

"GET THEM OUT OF THERE!" Leonardo's voice shouted over the noise of screaming and other things that made almost no sense. "This isn't a break! We are preparing for battle! WORK together as a team!"

He admired his brother so much but at the same time this brother in front of him his eyes wide with the battle edge. Lips pulled smirking and his body littered with rubble clinging into his fabric or his skin.

"Michelangelo!" A black came to his tent grabbing his arm, he barely had time to look up at the man to see that he was a close range fighter, before he was dragged into the fray and saw what was attacking them for training.

Green fighters, their clothing shifting in and out of the forest scenery. He almost wanted to shout that he couldn't go any closer but the man didn't let up as he continued to pull him into the swarm of people. Michelangelo's legs ached as they fell a couple of times before his shoulder was yanked up with a ripping feeling at his joint to keep him walking.

He held back the pain before the hand let go, his breathing was raging in his chest nearly impossible for him to mutter an incantation. His eyes carefully scanned the area before he felt the slither of a spell crossing over his skin. He moved rolling across the ground, under a bush, before his spell hit the tree making him grunt his focus lost working on his own incantation of protection.

"Oh dear!" Michelangelo's eyes lifted up seeing a Green robed frog hopping over to him before it croaked his laughter. "Hello, hello! Welcome!"

The frog was new to this exercise as was Michelangelo for why else would it... Michelangelo's eyes widened as he got up dashing from his spot as another thing, a cat he spotted, fell into the area he was once curled against. He closed his eyes thinking of any spell he knew, protection of his own self was out of the question with how in combat quarters they were 'practicing'.

This wasn't his field! That Black dragged him into the midst of the commotion without even realizing that Michelangelo was a distant fighter. He couldn't-.

Michelangelo opened his eyes shifting his stance smiling, he could fight close combat! How stupid was he? He had watched, felt, each move that the other he took time to watch did.

"Come, Eral of the night, brace my hands with your cold steel. Let me fight, but guard." he whispered as he felt his skin and joints becoming stiff. He watched the two looking at each other before they began running in opposite directions forcing Michelangelo to shift to look at the cat, the most deadliest in his opinion, and he shouted in pain his mind slipping allowing his arms to dull a bit.

"Letting your guard down to a frog!" the frog laughed as Michelangelo fell to the ground as the cat raised his hands.

Michelangelo forced his focus onto his forearms as he raised them over his head. He could feel the pain rushing over him even as the scratches drew blood.

"Whaa..." the frog hopped around, "You should not be able!" the frog said in anger. "You are weak! No fighter! Magic isn't for close-."

"I fight both ways!" Michelangelo spat out flipping onto his shell using a small incantation of wind to turn him causing the air, leaves, and surrounds to form into a cyclone.

"Pull back!" the cat finally spoke his claws digging into the ground as the frog was pulled in not having the luxury. "Get him to stop!"

The sound was like a humming but he still could hear the sound rounding on the wind being pull upwards.

"Michelangelo," It was his brother's voice. "The training is over, release your spell." The presence in his head dulled before going out with a small trace of a fingers against his skin. He sat down back onto his feet eyes closed as he felt his body pulling to be submerged into the dark. He watched as his flower petals slowly fell past his face from his mask as he saw black clothing, not his brothers, grab his arms hauling him up onto his feet.

"Good job, kid." one of them, sounded like the one who dragged him... he wasn't sure truthfully.

His legs were lifted up off the ground before he was flung into the arms of one of the blacks, again not his brother, and they began walking back to their camp. He overheard a few people talking saying it was strange seeing a magical user able to do such a complicated spell. The tone of his brother soon met his ears making him smile as he was praised with a few small words. It was enough to know that he wasn't hated by his brother for how weak he was.

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His arms had been bandaged before wrapped around his chest so that his hands were nearly resting against his chest criss crossed pattern. He could feel the pain beating through him. His head spinning as his eyes came in and out of focus. He knew what was happening because he had seen Leonardo go through this once when he came home. He refused to even accept anyone to come in from his group to check on his condition when Michelangelo had went out saying that he was fearful for how Leonardo was confined to his bed.

To think he'd be forced in that position now only after casting two spells at the least. Yes one was a higher class that was technically forbidden for him to cast, or would have if he was any color other than black to wear. No one would have thought he'd actually cast a suicide spell but he really felt like he had no choice. It could have been from his exhaustion but the doctor had said that he was even past that.

He had even placed his flower into a special healing water because of how the petals continued to fall fluttering before burning. It was only when ones flower began to show sign of turmoil that people knew someone had been pushed past their limits of both sanity and strength. He closed his eyes feeling the sleep waft like a warmth wool blanket being draped over his body. His lids heavy as he felt the black abyss in his mind.

He could hear the laughter of his counterpart, feel the muscles under his skin move as he danced to some unfamiliar beat. Next to him was Leonardo his hands above his head as his eyes were close. His brother looked so peaceful as if he was having fun not pretending to be something other than himself.

He heard his voice say something and a small blush came up to Leo's face as he turned his head looking at Michelangelo before shaking his head smiling as he said something also. Strange... normally he could hear what was being said.

Slowly the music changed as Michelangelo felt the atmosphere also switch as Leo blushed only slightly, but it was HIS face that was on fire. The look that ghosted over Leo's eyes, his mouth slowly falling open, the hands reaching out grabbing his wrists pulling him into his brother's body. The small feel of two three fingered hands gripping below his waist on the outside of his thighs. His face grew hotter as he felt his beak buried in Leo's neck breathing heavily as he began to pant a small throbbing below making Leo chuckle in his ear as he said something that finally came through the murky water feeling, "Do you want me that badly inside you, baby brother?"

The shock of hearing those words spoke so low in Leo's voice, the small feeling as Leo's hands expertly ghosted to the back his finger touching something Michelangelo never really thought existed to feel THAT good. Yet it wasn't as good as Leonardo slowly grinding into him making him moan, his legs weak...

His eyes opened his breathing labored as he looked around trying to figure out where he was. He turned his body, allowing his mind to clear up as the pain laced through him sending him to fall flat on his arms a small groan as tears escaped. He could barely believe what he saw … what he still felt lingering over his skin. The words ghosting over his ear or...

He moaned closing his eyes feeling the feelings return as he wanted that touch, wanted that motion again, he moaned louder as he failed to feel any part of his body. The pain only seemed to add to the pleasure as if someone was touching him, holding him down softly but with such a firm bruising grip- he felt utterly lost.

"Michelangelo?" Leonardo came into the room looking at his brother, "What are you doing on the floor?" his brother was at his side before he even though the turtle brother had moved. His hands gripping Michelangelo's shoulders lifting him up as they slide down taking the crossed arms into his palms for a grip.

The pain exploded making him moan again eyes half opened before looking at Leonardo who froze. Something so small flickered to life under the cold stone gaze of winter and hatred in those shining orbs. Michelangelo watched as his brother licked his lower lip slightly before he returned to lifting Michelangelo up to sit on his legs with a traditional japanese style, yes he knew this from that world... he looked at Leonardo again as his brother looked at him in the eyes.

The look turned ravenous as Leonardo leaned in, Michelangelo's brain stilling on just Leonardo's eyes, his beak inches from Michelangelo's, "Are you okay?" it was husky as he spoke his hand resting on Michelangelo's chest, right where the feeling of heat swelled within Michelangelo's body.

He knew his brother could feel it, knew the look on Leonardo's face was growing too strong for his will to defeat and push back, but that look brought fear into Michelangelo's core. Something Leonardo had did or done before that time... what time?

"Leonardo," Michelangelo whined softly, "This... is a sin..." Leonardo pressed harder against Michelangelo making his head fall back, "You... should not... con-." Leonardo's hand moved and Michelangelo whined. Leonardo looked disgusted suddenly, the rage that Leonardo displayed at a 'sin' shining with sadistic pleasure.

Michelangelo cowered as the fingers gripped his throat squeezing as Leonardo said, so darkly … so much emotions bundled together, "I will not fall into the Dusks!" he spat, "I will not give into anything that will take me away from my PATH!" he had leaned in straddling Michelangelo's legs, "I will not be tempted by something so... foul and you, Michelangelo... stop messing around with my head!" and the pressure eased as Leonardo sat there, fingers grazing his throat, before he stood leaving the room and his baby brother,Michelangelo, crying knowing Leonardo did something horrible as this to him.

He shouldn't have saw that sin, shouldn't have been affected by it... shouldn't have wanted that feeling that his other was probably now feeling at the hands of that Leonardo...

He cried as he moved feeling the pain, no longer pleasure wrapped up into it, to stay awake and away from ever feeling that way again.

The time was unaware to Michelangelo as he moved, methodically, through the weeks. His mind dull as he thought of nothing but the incantations: protection, defence, offense, and the ever so occasional mass homicidal ones. These usually placed him back in his brother's room where he'd smile looking around the room fighting off the much needed sleep, his flower off to the side drowning in the magical suave before he was trapped, always trapped by his pendant, in the world where he felt so much pleasure and so much disgust.

He hated himself but the love of being touched, caressed so hopefully, so passionately...

Today though was different then the times on the camps where he came across his friends from school but none of them even tried to talk to him on their breaks. Not one of them even seemed to want anything to do with a black who had caused such disgust. It was hurtful because they had said nothing would tear them apart, not even color.

Though Michelangelo enjoyed being alone it also hurt him, today was no different. His brother had allowed him to easily move around the camps of the Red district today, they had not fought in a week, and he smiled seeing a few nervous looks.

Yes, fear the black... fear the one who has only done what he was ordered to... fear him because he was one of the elite... FEAR him because he was Michelangelo the cursed brat of the Hamato clan! Of the facts piling against him because of the necklace around his throat along the chain of his brothers pierced through his skin the day he graduated.

Michelangelo paused as someone grabbed his arm. His eyes narrowed as he stated in a tone so similar to Leonardo's, "Release me now, Red, I am in no mood for a brawl."

"Calm down, my friend." A slightly jog on Michelangelo's memories hit him before he turned looking at the one holding his arm in a firm grip. "It's me, Charles... god you look like a Dusk."

That lingo was used often for Black Dawns. Dusks only wore black, their clothes tinted the color of their passion. The darker the color the more their passion grew. Donatello was a near midnight purple... Leonardo had said that once. Raphael was nearly a deep blood red so thick that even black would not hide the color.

He shivered turning to look further at his friend, "And you look like you've been in hell's front gates like an angel for slaughter." the context was out of his usual character that Charles knew for the turtle... but Hell was always a character changer.

"Let me buy you something to drink, okay... you look like you'll need it... I know a great spa in the Red's training camp..." Was Charles just concerned for him or was it something else? Michelangelo had become devoid and dislocated from any groups or conversation. He had isolated himself during his sleep, even after that incident with his brother, so that no one would see the growing feelings in his heart that were stitching themselves into his eyes.

"That.. would be nice." He smiled as he followed after his friend. A few glances were shot his way but the looks at Charles were confusion mixed with such worry. They must respect his friend if they were worried so much about him. Red's were the fighters, second to the Blacks, and they were the most skilled... but their true strength was that they stood together tell the bitter end.

'What about us blacks?' Michelangelo questioned as he turned into a building his eyes low on the ground. He felt the looks, the icy glares. He felt the sheer animosity of the room that he wanted to choke but that wasn't what a proud Black like his brother would do. If he did that... he'd be hurt...

"Is there something you find interesting?" the magic wafted off his body as he turned his eyes, the glow was different around his body as the smile turned demented. The look in his eyes growing with lust, with such sin, but that was a black for you when you threatened their pride. They would become one of the sinful to make you suffer. They would take the sin that would fester in your heart...

The music of the room suddenly filled his ears making the look vanish as he turned looking at the stiff muscles of the men in the room. If the music was making them... Michelangelo's eyes widened as he turned around feeling... oh god what was he feeling pressing down against his body trying to force him to the floor?

The spot, so small, distorted the space of the area in the room. The men stood up, most half naked humans since humans were so prideful with their saying of never leave a person behind, and they rushed behind him almost as if they were seeking refuge behind something, in their eyes, that would protect them.

He might be a black but he was no stronger than they were! His anger grew as he watched a hand reach out grabbing onto the air, Michelangelo saw the distorted space tighten like cloth in the clenched hand. Watched as the hand pulled forward out of the space its body slowly appearing in a deep red, no... blood red... so old the blood it nearly was black... so old that the stains were in the clothing... on its face soaked into the mask. The horns on its head went up past its skull before dropping down to meet only inches from the eyes on either side.

It's eyes were red as its mouth opened taking in a deep breath before the pupils lifted up, flickers of gold mixed in with blood red... oh god... blood, so much blood was a stench on the thing in front of him.

Slowly it fully appeared in the bathhouse, eyes roaming over the naked men with a sly lecherous grin, before on the only black, on Michelangelo.

"I thought I felt something pleasant here." the voice was gruff, the tone teasing, but Michelangelo would never forget the underneath vibrations that lulled him to sleep night after night when he had been punished. The voice of anger that would tease or argue with Leonardo.

"R-Raphael?" he stepped forwards eyes opened wide in shock. This... couldn't be... his brother?

"Oh!" the smile grew as Raphael rushed over wrapping his arms around Michelangelo nuzzling into his neck licking slightly up before pulling back giving his brother a once over, "Black suits you, yes it does." he grinned before looking around at the other men around before back at his brother a small pout on his face, "Were you seriously going to have that much fun!" he whined.

Michelangelo blinked, his mind couldn't process what was happening. Did... Raphael just lick him? Did Raphael just hug him? Did Raphael just say he was going to have … sin … what? He looked up at Raphael who looked at him as if there was no care in the world.

Michelangelo took this time to view his brother, so long missed, and assert what situation this might be. Though he felt Charles behind him growling his flower shifting obviously by the feel in the air. The magic from all the other reds as they realized what was in front of them happily greeting a black like it was normal everyday occurrence.

Michelangelo closed his eyes before opening them swiping his hand so that Raphael dropped his arms to avoid the cut from the metal coating his fingers from the spell he cast in those few short seconds.

The look in Raphael's eyes changed as he stepped back the smile growing as it turned from calm and collective to that of the borderline psychotic all Dusks wore. The looked pained Michelangelo due to the earlier words Charles said, 'You look like a Dusk.' how much those words stung now.

"Raphael!" the words left his mouth like a whipped dog he was, the tears building behind his eyes that fell into the fabric of his mask, "By order of the light, you are to be cleansed." He shifted though... a feeling of chaotic bliss flowed through him.

"Well, I don't want to fight..." Raphael pouted sticking out his hips to the side his pointing finger on his lips as he pouted, "I felt something fun... I only wanted to see what it was..." the look grew more pathetic by the second as he looked his brother over. Though his eyes changed as his body grew weak his arms dangling at his side, "Dear brother."

Michelangelo felt the shiver rollin over his skin, pleasure filling every pore in his body as he began panting but the connection between their eyes could not be broken, "I can't wait to see you again... Can't wait to feel that skin without that clothe protecting it..." the smile grew lustful as slowly his body began to dissolve. "I hope you don't get too … overpowered by the music of that flower."

Michelangelo's eyes grew wide as he only saw Raphael's left eye, snapping out of the trance, before he felt the arms wrapped around his body. his hand outstretched desperately trying to grasp Raphael as he was vanishing. He didn't remember moving, didn't remember the tears flowing down his face, didn't even feel the breath as someone shouted his name... All he could even feel pulsing around the air was his brother... that power...

"Michelangelo!" Charles said lowly, "You must snap out of it! The monster is gone!" Charles arms were fully wrapped around his body his muscles bulging but it wasn't him alone... all the men were holding him back.

The small turn of his eyes showed their horrified expression, not directed at him but directed over their fear of what had appeared inside a protection spell. It would spell a pandemic of fear, thoughts would build... He had to take control of this situation because no one had come in, no one had left and the slithering against his skin like a fire from a pistol while the backlash from whatever spell Raphael had done took effect hit him all at once.

He dropped to his knees coughing as he vomited. Charles dropped to his side fear on his face as Michelangelo said between each hacking cough, "Confine... them all... this is... an order..." A black was to be followed... A black was the law... nothing was above a black but the elders and a black's Leader.

Who better to lead then the devil living in hell?