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~ 𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚆𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙿 𝚈’𝙰𝙻𝙻 🔥⁉️ 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙸𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝚂𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽— 𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃 𝙰 𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚃𝚃𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙵𝙸𝙲𝚂 𝙱𝙲 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙷 𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟻,𝟽𝟶𝟿

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡 (𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️)

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️ (𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡)

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚃*𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜— 𝚢’𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 <𝟹)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚋𝚌 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝: @tiggleebug @tmnt-th1ngs @creativecutie

@veryblushyswitch @snugglyfluffle @kanene-yaaay

@someone1348 @vxlepop @what-youd-expect

@ziipzeepzop-eez @my-l0v3r-v3rse @skye-minecraftyt-blog

@augonot @soft--dragon @titters-and-tingles

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐— 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚖, 𝚙𝚕𝚣 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 ❤️🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“No.”

“But Raph—”

“No.”

“But Raphie—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I literally just said no, Mikey.”

“But Raaaaaaphhhh, I’m bored!” The youngest groaned, flopping onto the second oldest’s bed dramatically. The second oldest in question raised an unamused brow, looking up from his comic where his little brother laid in front of him. The red banded turtle sighed, going back to reading his novel calmly and ignoring the younger turtle completely. 

Now, if you couldn’t tell by Mikey’s whole demeanor, or the fact that he just stated so…he was bored. VERY bored. EXTREMELY bored. 

TREMENDOUSLY bored if you will.

And if the youngest was bored, you’d best believe you’d hear him complaining all day in and all day out until he found something to occupy himself with. And Raph? Well, the young teen personally did not have the time nor patience to deal with all of that today. 

Or any day really.

“For the millionth time, Mike— I’m busy. Go bother Don or somethin'.” The hot-head grumbled, flipping through the pages of the comic book he was currently reading. The other rolled his eyes, turning his head to his older brother, “Don’t you think I already did that?” Raph chuckled at the statement. “Oh really? And how’d that go?”

“He threw a beaker at me…but I think it had acid in it—“

Raph visibly shuddered, “Okie-dokie then. Another reason for you to get out of my room. Buh-bye. Sayonara. Thanks for stopping by. Adios amigo.” He demanded, pushing Mikey’s face with his foot but the youngest stubbornly stood his ground. He pushed back with his head until the other eventually gave up, throwing his comic book at him in frustration. 

Mikey got up from the bed, annoyingly whining again.

“Just do an activity with me or something…! He huffed, shaking Raph by the shoulders back and forth. “I can show you the way out of my room! That can be an activity we can do together!” The red banded teen smiled with a fake sweet tone, which only caused the other’s frown to deepen. 

“I’ll never ask you for anything ever agaiiiiinnn! Just do something with meeee! Pleeaseee?!” Raph had to bite back a grin when he heard that bargain. In the next 5 minutes, Mikey would probably ask him to do the hokey-pokey or some shit like that. The second oldest let out a long yet playful sigh, rubbing his temples before crossing his arms. “Fine fine…what do you wanna do?” 

The youngest blinked, rubbing the back of his head and looking away for a bit. Well…Raph was surprisingly easy to convince today. It usually took him a solid 2 hours and 30 minutes (he’s counted) until he cracked. Usually 1 hour and 15 minutes on a good day…

“That’s…a very good question…I’ll get back to you on that…” The smaller turtle muttered. Raph tilted his head in complete and utter disbelief. “You came in here harassing me for, like, an hour straight talking about how you wanna spend time with me and now you don’t even know what you wanna do?!”

“I’m thinking, okay?! Don’t get your tits in a twist!” Mikey huffed at his older brother. 

“Don’t get my what in a what???”

The youngest then suddenly snapped his fingers, smiling brightly and turning to the second oldest, “We should play a video game!”

“Like…Fall Guys or something? Dude, I’ve beat you anytime we’ve played two player. Just accept your many MANY losses.” The green eyed mutant teased, laughing at the offended expression Mikey was giving him now.

“I think you might have hit your head a bit too hard when we came from the ooze, my dear friend. Because I clearly remember you losing when we were playing last weekend.” The orange banded teen challenged, sticking his tongue out at Raph who only scoffed in amusement, resting his hand on his hip. 

“I was being a good big brother and let you win.” He retorted. Mikey rolled his eyes, knowing full damn well Raph just sucked absolute ass and didn’t want to admit it. “Yeah yeah, whatever. But, no. I have an even better thing in mind. And it’s a board game.”

A pause.

“…so are you gonna tell me what the board game is?” Raph asked impatiently. 

“I’m pausing for emphasis! I request a drumroll, please.” 

…oh for the love of…

Raph sighed, drumming his hands on his bed for a couple seconds before stopping, waiting for Mikey to tell him the name of this soooo special game that he couldn’t just tell him already.

Because emphasis or whatever.

“Twister!” Mikey smiled, clapping his hands excitedly. “Twister.” Raph repeated, his eye-ridges (is that what they’re called—? Idk…) raising in surprise as he scratched the top of his head confused. “Why Twister of all things? We haven’t played that game since we were, like, 7.”

The blue-eyed mutant shrugged, leaning against his big brother’s beside and lazily checking his nails. “Eh. No reason. Just what first came to mind. What? Afraid you’ll lose, Raphie boy~?” He smirked, looking up at the taller green eyed mutant who only chuckled at his taunt. 

“Oh please. That game is so easy I could play it in my sleep.” He smirked, looking down at Mikey who only had a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

Raph was lying— lying right through his teeth in fact. He wasn’t good at Twister— he wasn’t even semi-good. He didn’t even qualify anywhere near semi-good when it came to Twister. Raph wasn’t the most…flexible turtle of the bunch, which made it hard to do some, if not most of the poses Twister had conjured up for you. 

And usually, he wouldn’t care so much about losing a game. Heck, it was Twister for crying out loud. But Raphael grew up with a family of competitors.

And so, he was competitive. Very competitive.

He didn’t like to lose— in fact, he hated losing. He’d rather beat up Kraang droids all day than lose. 

Well…he’d beat up Kraang droids any day but that’s beside the point! 

Point was, he absolutely sucked at Twister, period. And personally? It wouldn’t be so bad if he was going against Leo, heck— even Casey Goongala Jones himself would be a better opponent than Mikey.

If Mikey won (which he always did), he would make sure you knew all day in and all day out that he beat you. It was annoying as hell and that would only fuel Mikey more into reminding you that you lost against him. 

And like stated before…Raph did not like losing. He didn’t like it one bit. 

The elder straightened up his slouched posture, extending his hand to do a hand shake, which the youngest gladly accepted. “I accept your offer. But don’t be disappointed when I completely annihilate you.”  

“We’ll see about that.” Mikey chirped, grabbing Raph’s arm and almost soaring out of the room with him. 

Aaaaand so that’s where the two were now; spreading the well known dotted mat onto the floor carefully in front of the TV. The two spun a couple times already, the positions that were being requested weren’t hard. At first…just subtle movements here and there. Until Raph had his whole arm underneath Mikey and Mikey had his whole arm under Raph’s…

And by 12 turn’s, they were intertwining each other like a bunch of yarn. Raph, surprisingly, was doing really well. His stance being something along the lines of a downwards dog and a corpse pose— if that makes sense. Which it doesn’t. Because it’s Twister. Twister doesn’t make any sense in the slightest. 

Mikey on the other hand, was not doing so hot. His stance was just basically the Family Guy dead pose but just slightly standing. With every spin of that darn evil plastic wheel, the younger teen seemed to be getting more and more difficult adjustments, while Raph barely had to move a finger. Or…limb in this case. 

The turtle gods were on his big brother’s side today and Mikey was not having it. 

“Doing alright, bro?” The hot-head smugly asked, his voice a little strained due to the odd positing but a teasing grin was on his face nonetheless. “You’re shaking a bit there…” He mused at his little brother, whose limbs were shaking like a bunch of conjoined jello conjoined.

The smaller mutant then fixed his footing, not shaking anymore as he looked up at Raph, smirking smugly right back at him. “Oh I’m fine, big bro. Just. Fine.” The orange banded turtle gritted out.

Now, Mikey wasn’t going to lie, but this whole Twister thing was starting to not seem like such a good idea. His older brother was a complete abomination when it came to Twister! But apparently, he seemed like he was getting every single easy position, and he was doing a pretty decent job at it— and Raph…Raphael has NEVER done decent! 

Mikey, on the other hand, was struggling. He might as well become the actual mascot for the game or something because his arms and legs were getting twisted like actual Twizzlers. It’s probably not even normal for his body to twist like this, but hey! He’s not losing and that’s all that matters, right? 

But he couldn’t keep this act on forever. He was going to fall sooner or later if he didn’t do something fast. 

The younger tried to move to spin the wheel but almost fell in the process; catching himself at the last second. “Yeah…I won’t be able to reach it…” The elder hummed in acknowledgement, also attempting to spin the wheel but ultimately failing as well.

Conveniently, a couple seconds later, the eldest turtle of the four quadruplets walked out of his room, walking into the lounge area where the two were playing Twister. Leo looked the two up and down before sighing, rubbing his face tiredly.

“It’s too early for this…” He grumbled, going to the kitchen to refill his tea cup. Raph and Mikey shared a confused glance with each other, before looking at the other turtle with even more confusion.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon…” The youngest giggled. Leo turned around, glaring at the both of them. And if looks could kill…Mikey would’ve been nothing but a bare shell.

“Yeah. And my statement still stands. It’s too early for this…” The blue banded turtle repeated, taking a sip of a now full tea cup. “Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go read some Captain Ryan x reader fanfiction…” He grumbled with the most deadpanned face and voice ever, but you could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he was genuinely excited.

The young leader was probably too tired to acknowledge what he just said…oh well. More blackmail for Mikey then.

“Leo, wait! We need you to spin the spinny thingie!” The second oldest yelled in impatience. This stance was starting to hurt like shell! And losing is not an option here!

Leo turned around, looking his brother up and down again before sipping his tea again. “Do it yourself.” 

“I can’t, wise guy! The spinny whatchamacallit is all the way over there! If I try to spin it, I’ll lose!” Raph explained which only resulted in Leo blinking once before rolling his eyes.

“Then lose.” And with that, the young leader walked to his room, chuckling a bit to himself as he closed his door. “Smug bastard…” The red banded turtle grumbled under his breath.

After a few moments of thinking, Mikey decided he needed to do something to try and get an advantage in this game. That’s when he reached up with one hand and jabbed Raph in the side lightly.

The elder flinched violently, drawing out a surprised and loud shriek, but stubbornly staying in the same position he was before. The second oldest glared at his younger brother, who had the most innocent smile plastered on his face.

“Michelangelo. Hamato.” He warned, his glare hardening. “Poke me again and see what happens.” He said threateningly, which only caused the younger in question to innocently bat his eyes at him, continuously poking around his side.

“Mihihike— shihihit!” Raph cursed, trying to squirm out of reach of the poking with the little room he had. Mikey continued to tickle him, now moving his fingers to scribble on his stomach, which obviously made Raph shriek louder.

“MIHIHIKEY!” 

“Aw…there’s that smile!” The youngest grinned. And finally, to the smaller turtle’s delight, the older fell down on his shell, officially concluding the game and granting Mikey his 100% hard earned victory. 

“I won!” The menace giggled, doing a small little victory dance on the mat before he made eye contact with Raph— who looked like he was ready to KILL.

Victory dance over. Victory dance WAY WAY over. 

The younger got up almost immediately, quickly backing away as the other turtle scaringly followed right behind him. “W-Wait wahait…dude, bro, my man…we can talk about this! We can talk this out like the civilized mature mutants we are! There’s noho need to doohoo anything drahastic…” He rambled, taking multiple upon multiple steps back as Raph inched closer and closer towards him, game obviously loooong forgotten at this point.

The elder cracked his knuckles, an evil smirk spreading across his face almost like a wildfire. And that, ladies and gentleman, was enough evidence for Mikey to know that he was absolutely in for it.

The youngest bolted for Donnie’s lab, running as fast as his little legs could carry him, only to be hoisted onto his big brother’s shoulder as the red banded turtle walked back to the lounge area.

Nervous giggles escaped Mikey’s mouth as he tried to get out of his older brother’s grip, squirming, pushing, kicking— basically all the things he could do in this oh-so-horrible-situation-that-he-definitely-did-not-plan-out-what-so-ever!

Raph put Mikey on the ground, sitting on his legs. “Mihike, I haven’t even done anything yet...” He commented at the squirmy giggly mess that was his youngest brother. Mikey snickered, a small blush creeping to his face. “Shuhut it!“ He squeaked as he felt three fingers on his sides, not moving but just resting there in anticipation. 

The youngest helplessly held the taller turtle’s wrists, shaking his head back and forth while sputtering out giggly pleases as his eyes were closed shut. “What’s gotten you so giggly?” Raph asked innocently, smirking down at his baby brother who was currently losing his mind.

“Just gehehet it oveheher wihith already!” He giggled desperately. If getting absolutely wrecked wasn’t gonna kill him…then the anticipation definitely would.

“Get whahat over with, Mike? I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about…” The orange banded turtle lightly smacked at Raph’s arm, loving and hating every single second of this. Mikey looked to the side, hiding his head in his shell a tiny bit out of embarrassment. 

“Is there…something specific you’re talking about? Something oh-so embarrassing that you apparently can’t even say it out loud?” Raph grinned, his fingers clamping lightly on his sides as the other giggly whined in annoyance and desperation. 

“Will yohou plehease juhust tihihickle me already???” The smallest turtle squeaked; the last part barely audible to the turtle ear and of course Raph felt the need to comment on it. 

“Hm? What was that~? I couldn’t quite hear you…” He smirked, his fingers twitching against the other’s sides. 

“Rahaph!!”

“You gotta speak louder, bud. I can hardly hear you.”

“Rahahaphie plehease!”

“Well since you asked so nicely…” Raphael smiled, starting to actually tickle Mikey’s sides now.

“You know, you could have just…told me you wanted me to tickle you, instead of doing the whole ‘let’s play Twister’ bullshit.” The taller turtle stated calmly, only causing Mikey’s blush to deepen. 

Was he seriously that easy to read? Well that’s embarrassing…he honestly thought he had his older brother fooled with the whole ‘Let’s play Twister bullshit.’

Random fun fact, one of the best and worst things about being tickled by Raph was that he could just casually say the t-word as if it was an everyday word as you can see.

Well…in retrospect it is an everyday word.

But it’s a very embarrassing everyday word.

A very VERY embarrassing everyday word.

And you best believe he always used it as an advantage to gain the upper hand in every situation. Whether he was tickling one of his brothers or not…you bet he would randomly use it in a sentence.

“Literally what are you talking aboHOUT?” Mikey screeched as Raph prodded and poked his lower ribs. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.” The second oldest smirked. “Playing duhumb is not my forte— thahat was yohou duhuhuring Twister.” Mikey managed to giggle out.

Raph sent daggers to Mikey as he pinned one of his hands to the carpeted floor, digging his free hand into his exposed underarm. 

The blue eyed mutant automatically squawked at the sudden sensation, trying desperately to pull his arm back down. The other let out a satisfied huff from the noise, “You were saying~?”

 “ScREHEHEW YOHOU!” He squawked. Raph flinched slightly at the turtle belle’s sudden yell but chuckled at it nonetheless. Oh this is gonna be so so easy…

Mikey’s feet helplessly kicked behind Raph, his legs going up into the air every so slightly every now and again. “Your gonna break the sound barrier with all that screaming, baby brother...” Raph commented.

“But, you okay? You’re voice raised a bit there…” He asked as he heard Mikey’s laughter spike up suddenly. The youngest wiped a couple happy tears from his eyes, giggling still. “Yeah, yeah…I’m okay…”

Raph nodded at the response, rubbing some of the ghost tickles away before going back to tickling him, now squeezing his hip area.

The freckled turtle’s eyes completely shot out of his sockets as and of course his big brother had to make a smart remark.

“Uh oh…did I happen to find a bad spot?” Raph smirked, raising a brow as the younger shook his head back and forth. “NOHO! NAHAT THEHERE! RAHAPH! PLEHEASE!” The teenager cackled loudly, grabbing the other’s wrists but making no attempt to push them away of course.

“Not there?? Whaddya mean not there~? You mean right…here?” Raph giggled, “Right here? Is this a bad spot, Mike?” He questioned innocently.

“RAHAPH *squeak* PLEHEASE!” Mikey squealed. “Please what? I can’t understand you because of my little brother’s mouse squeaks. Sorry man…” Raph said as he dramatically wiped a tear from his eye, before going back to tickling Mikey’s hip area.

“SHUHU— *squeak* SHUHUT UHUP!”

At times like this, you would not question the fact that Mikey’s Dad is a 6'2 rat mutant. Just listening to his laugh you could hear the resemblance.

“My gahaHAHASH! JuhUST STAHAP!” He whined throughout his laughter as Raph continued to knead his hip bones, causing Mikey’s laughter to rise in volume tremendously now and again.

The youngest arched his back with a loud squeal, pushing on his older brother’s wrists again as he tried to turn himself so his shell was facing upward.

“Now where do you think your goin'?” Raph snickered, now using both his hands to tickle Mikey’s underarms now, instead of just tickling one.

“WAHAHAIT! WAHA— *squeal* WAHAIT! IHIHIT TIHI— *squeak* NAHAHAH!” The youngest stammered through his laughter, his bandana long gone off of his face due to how much he was squirming around.

“It tickles? Ya don’t say.” Raph deadpanned, snickering at the small squeal the turtle below him let out after the comment. “Can Dr. Name-Einstein not take what he dishes out~?” He continued, digging deeper in Mikey’s underarms.

“Tickle tickle tickle~!”

“NoHOH—!”

“Tickle tickle~! Kitchie kitchie coo~!”

“SHUHUT— *squeak* SHUHUT YOUR MOHOUTH!”

“Aww…well, that’s not very nice, now is it?” The green eyed teen fake pouted, continuing to tickle Mikey’s underarms, but slipping his hands out every now and again to poke the other’s neck lightly before going back in.

“Ahh tkltkltkl….ahh tkltkltkl— what? I’m abbreviating it for you because you hate that word soooo much, see? Ahh tkltkltkl…”

“IHI’M GOHONNA MUHUHURDER YOHOU!” The youngest shrieked, banging his heels on the floor in a futile attempt to escape his big brother’s VERY mean comments. “Oh yeah? You and with what hands, little man~?” Raph grinned, grabbing both of Mikey’s wrists to put above his head, scribbling all over his stomach.

Mikey’s hyena cackling only raised in volume after that. Raph evil laughed at the reaction, chuckling to himself as he tickled the younger to pieces.

“Woah. I think I hit the jackpot…what do you think, Mike?”

Mikey squeaked.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Behind all the evil laughing and teasing, Raph took glances at his baby brother’s face every now and again to make sure that he was actually enjoying himself; and that he wasn’t uncomfortable in any way.

…And before you even think of calling him a softie for thinking this, being a softie and being caring are two completely different things.

Don’t get them twisted.

Anyways, even if Raph never openly says so or displays so…he genuinely cares about his brothers, and if he ever hurt them in any way, physically or mentally…just know that he’s taking that with him to the grave. No further questions asked.

Unfortunately for the youngest, this didn’t mean Raph would be merciful while tickling him in any way, shape, or form right now…

But Raph didn’t want his baby brother’s voice disappearing all the way to Timbuktu, so stopping right now would suffice.

The older turtle ceased his tickling onslaught, crossing his arms across his plastron to glance at the flustered and oh-so giggly mess he created.

“Yohou…suhuck…” The maskless turtle giggled, refusing to look at his big brother who just snickered at the purely adorable behavior.

“Yohou okay?” The elder turtle asked, “Like seriously, I didn’t hurt you or anything, right?” He asked genuinely. And now wasn’t that sweet? Asking if someone was okay after almost committing a first degree murder to said person. Yeah. Reeeeaaal sweet alright.

“Mhm…yeah I’m okahay…” He nodded, sitting up slightly to look for his mask that flew over to who knows where.

”I don’t remember your stomach being that ticklish, Mike.” Raph teased, snickering softly at his comment which Mikey only rolled his eyes to. “Whehell, my neck isn’t embarrassingly sehensitive. Especially the bahahack ohof ihihit. I don’t thihink yohou can relate, but I’m juhust putting thahat out there…”

…Remember how I said Raph loved his brother very dearly? Well…forget it. Stopping right now would not suffice. It would do anything but suffice.

The hot-head simply gave his little brother a look that would be known as the look of ‘You are getting your shell HANDED to you.’ Now Leonardo was the turtle who invented this scary yet effective gaze (because of course he did…)

And so naturally, the look got passed down to Raph. Then to Donnie. And even Splinter found a way how to.

The youngest on the other hand, never really had any reason to learn the look, as he had wonderful looks of his own. Obviously.

But now…he was kinda wishing he did, so that the look didn’t look so scary (see what I did there? I’m hilarious, I know)

“I-Ihi’m sohorry?” Mikey giggled out meekly, immediately going to grab Raph’s wrists again for, like, the hundredth time in the past hour.

Sometimes it’s best to keep your comments to yourself…even if you are spitting straight up facts…

“Oho you will be sorry.” The elder effortlessly grabbed his baby brother’s wrists, slowly bringing his head down towards the other’s stomach. Mikey kicked his knees into Raph’s shell, hoping to at least faze him, but all his attempts to stop his brother were in vain as the other took in a deep breath and lowered his head at an agonizingly slow pace to his plastron...

“W-WAHAIT! RAHAH— *squeal* PLEHEASE!!!” However, even if you’re a strong, cool and fast mutant like Mikey himself here, you would never be able to go up against the power of an older sibling in a tickle fight (a very one-sided tickle fight but a tickle fight nonetheless…)

Raph had to stop to chuckle at the wriggly mess that was his baby brother— the dude was wriggling and giggling like he planted some drug in him! And he hasn’t even done anything to him!

Yet, anyway…

“SHUHUT UP! STAHAP LAHAUGHING AHAT MEEHEE!” The youngest screeched as he felt his mind going on an anticipatory rollercoaster, thrashing in his big brother’s hold which he knew he was never getting out of. Well…acceptance is the first step to anything right?

“PLEHEASE! IHI’M— *squeak* SOHORRY!” Mikey cried, now frantically trying to get out of the hold. Screw acceptance. Mikey didn’t want to see heaven’s gates early. And besides, he has a slice of pizza in the fridge that he’s been dying to eat. So dying right here, right now, isn’t an option.

Raph hummed in amusement, “Oho yeheah? Where were all these apologizes when you made me lose in Twister?” Mikey giggled, “Ihit’s nahat MYHY fault YOHOU suhuck at gahames! Ehespecially board games. Ahahand video gahames…dohoo I have to go ohon?”

Raph was shocked as he was impressed. The pure nerve of this teen. Mikey definitely got that attitude from him…that’s for sure. “Okahay that’s it. No more mister nice turtle…”

“Sihince whEHEN were yOHOU NIHICE?”

Instead of making another sassy remark back, Raph tightened the grip of his hands on Mikey’s wrists slightly, lowering his head to his little brother’s stomach and taking a huge breath…

“RAHAPH— nohoHO— WAHAIT! RAHaph dUHUDE PLEHEASE!” Mikey rambled through his laughter, shaking his head back and forth with his eyes shut. Oh…this was gonna tickle so freaking bad. Maybe instead of provoking Raph he should of just tickled himself— because Michelangelo would not come out of the lounge area ALIVE after this. 

With one last evil chuckle, the elder lowered his head to the center of Mikey’s plastron and…well, let’s just say all of New York City presumably heard the high-pitched shriek that ascended out of the youngest’s mouth.

Raph was mean. He was the definition of mean. He might as well be cast as the next Regina George if Mean Girls gets another reboot because this. was. mean.

Because not only was this smug dunderhead blowing raspberries on his stomach without barely taking any breath’s (kinda impressive honestly), but he also was using one hand to squeeze directly on Mikey’s knee.

Evil. Pure evil.

And you would think that it was pretty nice of Raph to let one of his hands go so he could at least attempt to escape, right? Well the youngest’s free hand was too busy happy stimming in order to do said task…so he’s kinda-sorta-maybe-possibly stuck

“I don’t remember you being this sensitive to raspberries when we were little…” The elder teen commented in between his breaths. Because…honestly. Did Donnie make Mikey one of his nerd concoctions to make the youngest embarrassingly ticklish or has he always been like this? Because there’s no way he should be giggling and wriggling this much.

“IHIT’S NAHAT MY FAHAULT!” And it wasn’t! It’s not Mikey’s fault he’s a literal walking talking tickle spot! Besides, you haven’t met walking talking tickle spot until you’ve met Leo.

“It tickles that bad, huh?” Raph laughed at the inhuman screeches coming from the teen below him. “SHUHUT— *squeak* SHUHUT UHUHAHAHA—!” The youngest cackled loudly, still kicking Raph at the back of his shell with his knees.

Now, was kicking Raph in the shell going to do him any favors in the long run? Most likely not. He’s still getting tickled to pieces and no matter how much he bucked, wriggled, writhed, or squirmed from side to side, Raph’s grip would remain the same until he felt like letting go. His hold was scaringingly better than his nunchucks— and that’s saying a LOT. 

The smaller turtle just helplessly kicked behind him, just laying there and laughing his heart out. Raph took a glance at his younger brother and his snarky, evil smirk turned into a fond smile, he shook his head, laughing to himself. 

“Y'know…Leo is just a couple steps away. I’m sure he’d loooove helping me turn you into a more giggly puddle than you already are…”

“NAHAH— *squeal* DAHA— DOHOHON’T—!”

“Or…what if I got Donnie? I bet he has some tools that would help me…”

“NOHOH—!”

“What about Dad? I’m positive he would just record the whole thing and coo you all day long about you’re adorable giggles—”

“RAHAPHIE!!!” Mikey screeched, kicking Raph in the shell extra hard this time which only made the elder huff out a laugh in amusement.

“OW! Okay okahay! No need to shout!” He chuckled, getting off of the other turtle and helping him up. Raph sat down on the couch, soon followed by Michelangelo who dramatically collapsed into his lap.

He giggled tiredly, sitting up and flopping on the other’s plastron. The elder laughed at the theatrical gesture, rubbing his shell comfortingly. “You okay, bud?” 

“Nohoho. I’m lihihiterally dying.” Mikey giggled tiredly. Raph hummed in acknowledgment, resting his chin on Mikey’s left shoulder, causing the youngest to let out a subtle squeak.

The two made eye contact as Raph’s signature smirk spread across his face again.

“Huh. Which reminds me…” The elder turtle mused, wrapping Mikey in a hug with his one arm while the other was free. He shook his head, anticipatory giggles pouring out of his mouth more than ever before. “Raphie— Rahaphie nohoho don’t you dahare!”

Now, you’re probably wondering why Mikey is freaking out so much right now…let me explain.

As you know, Mikey has freckles. A lot of freckles. It was something he’s always been insecure about ever since he was a turtle tot. He used to absolutely loathe his freckles with a burning passion…and he tried to keep that fact a secret.

But sadly, when you live with 3 other brothers and you’re the youngest, there’s no such thing as secrecy.

The brothers had this whole talk about how his freckles made him, well, him. How it signified his uniqueness, adorableness, and blah blah blah sappy stuff. And that talk actually made Mikey love his freckles a lot…which he really needed.

Point being, his older brother’s created this game where they would count and poke how many freckles he had— because he had a whole LOT and they wanted to point out each adorable individual one; his freckles mainly being on his shoulders, face and neck.

But the thing was, the pokes to said spots tickled. A lot. Mikey was able to hide his reactions at first, but then a squeak went to a squeal, and a squeal went to a giggle…if you catch my drift.

And ever since then, it’s been a friendly competition on who could poke and count the most freckles on his face without him squirming out of reach (the highest score was 23 by the one and only Donatello).

“Hm. I forgot how many freckles you have…did you get any more? Seems like you got more…” Raph hummed again.

“NohOH I diHID NAHAT—”

“I think I should check just to make sure…” And with that, the poking and counting began…or as Mikey likes to call it: his complete and utter demise.

Speaking of which, Mikey might be competing with Leo for the Most Ticklish Turtle award because these pokes to his shoulders and face tickled like absolute SHELL. And Raph was barely touching him! Like…barely.

“1…2…3…4–! Mike! Stop moving! You made me lose count!” The older tried to sternly say, but it was really hard due to how much his little brother was laughing his shell off at the slightest of touches to the face and shoulders.

“PLEHEHEASE! RAHA— *squeak*! IHI’M GOHONNA DIHIE!!!”

“You’ve said that, like, 3 times. And you’re still here, aren’t you?” Raph mused, continuing to poke and prod.

“And a seven, and an eight, and a nine— wait. What comes after nine…?” He fake pondered, poking on the exact same freckle on Mikey’s shoulder to keep him a squeaky giggly blob.

“Seriously…I can’t think of the number. What comes after nine?” The hot-head asked again, going after Mikey’s neck now— causing the younger to scrunch his shoulders almost immediately. Though, that maybe wasn’t the best idea because Raph’s fingers were now stuck.

“I honestly think you’re the one with an embarrassingly ticklish neck, little bro.” The elder turtle stated smugly, wriggling his fingers in the crook of Mikey’s neck as the younger laughed even louder (if that’s possible).

Mikey flapped both of his hands, happy tears threatening to fall from his eyes, “RAHAHAPH!!!” He shrieked, his legs kicking the couch as well as the floor.

“Okay! Alright! Okay! No need to shout out me! Heard you loud and clear, giggles.” He drawed his hand away from Mikey’s face and shoulders, resting them on the other’s shell, rubbing it soothingly. The smaller turtle rested the back of his head on Raph’s shoulder, catching his breath slowly but surely.

“Are you done torturing me now?” He giggled tiredly, becoming relaxed and comfy in Raph’s arms due to the shell rubs.

“For now, yeah.” The older winked which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes at. Raph could be such a dork sometimes, but he loves him nonetheless…sometimes anyway.

“Thanks. For, uh…y'know…doing that…” The orange banded turtle mumbled after he calmed down fully, getting his mask that flew up on the couch earlier. “Yeah. No problem.” Raph shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back on the couch before creasing his eyebrows together, looking at Mikey in confusion.

“Wait. Didn’t you tell Leo like a week ago that it was 100% okay to ask for tickles? Why aren’t you taking your own advice?” He asked.

“Wha— you heard that?”

“The sewer walls aren’t that thick, Mike.” The elder explained, rolling his eyes fondly at the new silence he was being wonderfully graced with.

“Freaking hypocrite…” The green-eyed teen sighed, shaking his head and wrapping Mikey in a hug, squeezing him gently. “Again, you didn’t need to come up with an excuse for me to tickle you. You can just ask me.” He smiled softly, making Mikey return the smile tenfold.

“Yeah…I know. But playing Twister made it more fun didn’t it?”

“Pff…yeah. Yeah, I guess it did.”

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

••@hexalianrebel-blackfeathers - I'm thinking #4 (Hide and Seek) with either Miguel or Doc Ock as the ler and our favorite Spider-Gang as lees.••

TickleTober Day 4 - Hide and Seek

~Okay, I’ve been so excited to write this one! I need to show the Ocks some more love, and I absolutely adore these two! This is stupidly long. I have no regrets. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lees: Miles, Pavitr, Gwen, Hobie

Lers: Otto Octavious (Alfred Molina), Olivia Octavious

Summary: When stranded in another alternate dimension, Otto is recruited by an unexpected variant of himself. Things get complicated when the Spider-Gang tries to stop their heist. Finding a heart, Otto offers an ulterior method to win against their young adversaries.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Otto's life had been…well, interesting was a word for it. Just when he thought he was done being tossed from universe to universe, a random portal opened and yoinked him out of the current wrong dimension, leaving him lost once again.

The new world seemed…animated, in a sense. Otto definitely didn't fit the style, what with everyone’s 3D animationesque appearances. There was no way he could get around without being recognized as an anomaly, but he couldn’t very well stay where he was…

Before he could slip further into his thoughts, a small band bounced off his head and fell into an open robotic tentacle; he didn’t know it, but it was a Spider Society day pass. A woman’s voice called from above him, sounding eerily smug and conniving.

“Come with me, Octavious 96283. We have some pests to exterminate.”

-

“So…you built all of this alone? Without funding?” Otto looked around the small lab, wondering how on Earth the woman managed to construct such high-tech equipment by herself. It was in an abandoned office building, sure, but it was still a solid facility.

“Yes. It was a hindrance to use purely damaged technology and scrapped fragments from Alchemax sites, but I think I’ve created an adequate workspace.”

Otto would hardly stop at “adequate” to describe the place. There were monitors, a small dissection area, multiple glass test tubes with various liquids, and a research station; it’s a lab his teenage self would undoubtedly be envious of.

“You mentioned pests?” He tried to steer the conversation in a more manageable direction; maybe she’d help him get home if he fed into her plot.

“I did, yes. There have been more and more of these spider pests popping up since the creation of their little Society. After their mistake ruined my research, I figured I’d refocus my efforts on eliminating them all together, starting with unlocking the mechanics of their interdimensional travel.”

Olivia didn’t stop for a single second, flitting around her lab while she spoke. “I need your help with acquiring a few parts for my newest portal prototype. Just a simple heist, nothing too flashy.”

-

He should’ve known that was bullshit.

I mean, who actually told the truth when they said “just a simple” anything? Running through the bustling, animated city with thousands of dollars of technological advances in his arms. Olivia was a version of him, after all; he never told anyone the entirety of his plans.

Things went from bad to worse when he heard the tell-tale sound of web shooters firing.

“Damn those brats!” Olivia’s hiss put him more on edge than the possibility of being arrested. The spider he was most recently with was quite nice and empathetic, but he wasn’t sure how this universe’s protector carried themselves. Wait…did she say brats, plural?

“Drop the tech, tentacle heads!” A younger-sounding voice called out right before a ball of web fluid came flying at Otto’s face. He used a tentacle to catch it, but the mechanics of the triceps were immediately clogged.

The man got a closer look as the boy – probably, he wasn’t sure – approached: black suit, red details, thin frame, wide eye mask. Yeah, that kid definitely wasn’t old enough to be risking his life like that.

To his surprise, three more costumed teens – again, not a known fact, but they definitely seemed young – backed the black-clad spider up. The varying styles shocked him: ornate reds and blues, black and white with pops of color, and all-out punk outfit with the classic colors beneath. Yeah, they were definitely from different dimensions.

Olivia, on the other hand, sprang into action. She snapped a few lines of web that were shot her way, obviously used to fending off all four of them at once. Otto couldn’t help but wince as the ornate teen was whacked into the brick alley wall by one of her tentacles.

The one in white called out and ran to him – he assumed she was a girl, given her costume and intonation – while the punk charged Olivia. Otto was playing defense against the boy in black and red, trying not to hurt him.

While the man was putting up a pretty good fight, the black-and-red Spider-Man still managed to grab his duffle bag of stolen tech. Olivia started to shout at him to get it back before a small web smacked her in the face, covering her mouth. That enraged the woman to a new extent he hadn’t thought possible.

A lot of things fell into place for the man when Olivia lobbed a steel trash can at the lanky punk; they were fighting children, or at most very young adults.The rage in the woman’s eyes… Yeah, no.

Were the teens trying to arrest them and foil Olivia’s plan? Yes. Did that stop Otto from caring that they were probably minors who definitely shouldn’t be taking that many hard hits? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

Otto reached for the bag, hoping to get it away from the boy so they could just retreat. One of his tentacle claws managed to grab the boy's side, meaning to hold him still; what he hadn’t expected, however, was the boyish squeal that ripped from the black-clad spider’s throat.

In the midst of Otto’s surprise, the teen managed to slip out of the mechanical grip and…disappear? An invisibility power would have been incredibly helpful for the boy – that is, if the duffle he was carrying wasn’t still visible.

God, these kids need some proper training…

Despite his associate’s murderous rage, the punk seemed to have grabbed Olivia’s duffle as well. Behind him, Otto caught a glimpse of the ornate boy and white-clad spiders zipping up to a rooftop. Sensing that they were fighting a losing battle, the other two followed them up, duffles in hand.

“Damn it! I need those parts, or all of this will have been for nothing!” Olivia moved to charge after them, but the man held out a mechanical arm to stop her; her fiery glare was hard to ignore, but he did his best.

“Wait. I know they’ve been pains in the asses, but we can’t… Is there really a reason to truly harm them? You have to know that they’re hardly old enough to even consider doing what they do.” Otto spoke from his heart, hoping at least a fraction of his words would hit something human within the woman.

“What do you suggest we do then? Let them get away with hours of careful preparations and the keys to my plans?”

“I have a better idea. One that involves less…aggressive tactics. You’ll still get your revenge, of course.”

Olivia quirked a brow, eyes still trained on the rooftop the young heroes fled towards. The anger was still burning on her features, but a slight tweak of contemplation tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m listening, 96283. Make it fast.”

-

Welp, Miles was dead. Or rather, he was going to be dead very, very soon.

One Doc Ock was already hard enough to handle, but two? Even with his fellow spiders’ help, the teen doubted they’d be able to do much against the two forces. Retreat was one of their only smart options, but he could hear the thudding of mechanical claws behind him. The duffle bag in his arms seemed to weigh more by the second, burning with the knowledge that they’d be on his tail until he either forked it over or somehow managed to find enough time to portal out.

His friends scattered around him, fanning out in their practiced formation. They’d meet up behind a small bakery before portaling back to the Society. Unfortunately for Miles, that meant he had to find a way there by himself.

As Miles swung by an alley opening, a robotic tentacle shot out at him from the darkness. He managed to keep the duffle bag out of its grip, but the four synthetic claws closed around his chest in its tight grasp.

“GYAH- get off!” Miles’s heart sank as he watched the owner of the tentacle emerge, her cold eyes gleaming behind iridescent green lenses.

“Hello, little spider. I believe you have something of mine~” Olivia grabbed the duffle with her other tentacles, but Miles held strong; he did have super strength, after all.

“Fine. I’ll get that bag one way or another, you pest.”

Before he could wonder what kind of painful torture he’d endure, Miles felt the synthetic claws dig into his stomach. Caught off guard, he couldn’t help the giggly squeak that escaped him.

“GYEEhehe! Wh-whahahat?!” Miles wriggled and squirmed in the tentacle’s grip, the lenses on his mask wide and confused. It was almost cute, though Liv shoved that thought as far back in her mind as it would go; weakness wasn’t going to get her that tech.

“What? It’s pretty obvious: give me the bag, or I make this a lot worse for you. I don’t have anywhere to be, sweetie~” Liv teased him as she worked, trying to tug the bag out of his iron-like grip. She could’ve just ripped the bottom and taken the parts…but where’s the fun in that?

“D-dohohon’t cahall me thahahat!” Beneath his mask, Miles’s cheeks warmed with red. She was just trying to kill him a moment ago; why’d she switch to doing that?! He didn’t really want her trying to kill him either, but it was an insane jump!

“Thihis ihis stuhuhuhupid!”

“On the contrary, Spider-Man, I’d say this is quite informative. I get to learn all of your weak points in just a few minutes; I’d hardly call that stupid.”

As if to prove her point, Olivia dragged two of her free claws up the red marking on his suit, stopping right below his underarms. The shrill squeal the action received was utterly adorable.

Ugh, Otto got to me, didn’t he?

“NOHOHohohooo! Lehemme gohoho!” The teen clamped his arms to his sides, still somehow managing to hold on to the duffle. He was starting to wonder if it was even worth it… No, it was; the parts still needed to be returned, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

“As soon as you let go of my technology, Spider-Brat.” Okay, enough games; Liv wanted that duffle bag. Forcing his arms above his head, she sent two tentacles to claw at his armpits.

Miles was not proud of the sounds he made after that.

“NAHAHAHAHA! NOHOT THEHEHERE!” Miles’s mind nearly went blank from the intense sensations shooting through his nervous system. He released his hold on the duffle bag, trying to slam his arms down.

Olivia snatched up the bag, stopping her assault to securely wrap her tentacles around it. Miles was sort-of gently put down, curling into a ball on the alleyway pavement. What the hell…?

“Was that so hard?” She dangled the bag in front of his face, taunting him. Miles tried to get back up, but he was utterly exhausted; the best he could do was shoot a web, which missed Liv by around two feet.

“As much as I’d love to rub this in, I have places to be. Try to stay out of my way, little spider~” With that, she used her tentacles to scale the side of the alleyway, taking off on the rooftops. She had an annoyingly truthful variant to find.

Miles wanted to go after the woman, but he was spent; it would’ve endangered both himself and his team if he tried fighting in that state. Shakily getting to his feet, Miles made his way to the bakery.

Hopefully the others would fare better than he did.

-

Otto almost felt bad for the spider kid he was holding. It had barely been a minute, but the guy was absolutely losing it, snorting and laughing so loudly that Otto wondered if the one he was trying to bait had gone deaf. Where was that punk?

“Stop it! Let him go, tentacle head!” Gwen shouted and squirmed in the metal tentacle’s grasp, trying to get to Pav. He wasn’t injured when he got thrown, but she still didn’t want him to be getting…tortured? She had no idea what the villain was trying to accomplish, but she wasn’t about to watch her friend struggle without a fight.

“Tentacle head? Really?” Otto smiled slightly, turning his focus on Gwen. Pav was still getting his stomach attacked, of course, but the claw on his neck left to go toy with her. “Here I thought you spiders were supposed to be funny.”

Gwen squirmed as she saw the tentacle coming towards her, but didn’t back down. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Pavitr’s stomach was just stupidly ticklish; she could tough it out until either Miles or Hobie arrived to help. Probably…

“N-NOHOHOHOT HEHER! PLEHEHEASE!” Pav did his best to try and save Gwen from his fate, but it really only made the older man chuckle. The kids were ridiculous; it was kind of adorable.

“Sorry kids, but your friend has something I need. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

With that, the claw began squeezing at Gwen’s sides, her laughter soon joining Pavitr’s in the alley. Otto severely doubted the punk had gone very far; he just needed the boy to take the bait.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“OI! Drop ‘em, ya big sashimi!” Hobie swung into the mix, the second duffle bag hanging securely off his back. He slammed his boots into the tentacle holding Pav, causing it to drop the tired boy onto the ground. He holds up a shaky thumb before being waved away by Hobie.

“You kids and your octopus jokes.” Otto chuckled, watching his hostage stumble to his feet and swing away. The trust the kids had in each other was sweet, albeit a little optimistic.

“H-HOHOHOBIE! WHEHERE’S MIHILES?” Gwen continued to try and escape the tickly tentacle, but it was a lot harder than it looked; those things were strong. Hobie couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. She’s being held hostage, and Miles is the thing she’s worried about?

“Ge’ your priorities straight, Gwendy!” Coming back around, Hobie fired off a barrage of webs, trying to jam the claws grabbing at him. It’s three against one, though; a claw managed to catch him by the wrist, yanking him up and into the air in front of Otto.

Hobie struggled in the tentacle’s grip as Gwen continued to laugh and kick at the one holding her. Otto knew his objective; he was just gonna goof off a bit before completing it.

“Now, I’m gonna need that duffle bag, kid.” Otto sent one of the tentacles out to try and grab the bag off his shoulders, but Hobie kicked at the biotech the moment it was in range. Fine by him; the hard way was so much more fun.

“Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, kiddo.” With that, he stepped forwards, squeezing the boy’s sides. Hobie tried to punch him, but one of his free tentacles came to hold the teen’s other wrist.

Hobue refused to giggle at first, just kicking his feet and trying to escape. When Otto reached his underarms, however, that dam practically exploded.

“GEHEHE’ OHOHOFFA MEHEHE!” Hobie thrashed about in the claws’ hold, his cheeks quickly heating up. Damn it, why’d he have to be so ticklish?!

“Wow. I mean, I wasn’t expecting my plan to fail, but you kids really are ticklish. It’s kinda adorable.” Otto teased them, willing the claw on Gwen’s sides to take things a little easier; he was mainly focused on Hobie.

“Shuhut uhuhup!” Gwen’s squeaky voice rang out beside him as she struggled. While she was grateful for the slight reprieve, Otto was still a villain. She was gonna escape and haul his strangely non-violent ass back to whatever dimension he came from.

It was at that inconvenient moment that Liv found Otto. I mean, it wasn’t hard; the sound of Hobie’s laughter and Gwen’s squeaks could be heard for at least half a mile.

“Seriously, 96283? Just keep him still.” Rolling her eyes, she went behind the squirmy teen and unbuckled the strap on the bag. It easily slipped off his back, falling straight into Liv’s arms. “Don’t mess around for too long. Those little menaces multiply.”

With that, she left Otto to his devices, getting away with the stolen goods. Hobie groaned, struggling against the claws to try and follow her. That struggle quickly changed focus when one of the wiggling claws moved behind his knees. He snorted, nose scrunching as a red hue burned on his face.

Okay, that was embarrassing. For once, he hoped Miles and Pav disregarded team protocol; they could really use some back-up.

Thankfully, those two could almost never listen.

A chunk of rubble slammed into the tentacle holding Gwen, causing it to reel back and drop her. A flash of red and blue scooped her up before she could hit the concrete.

Before Otto can react, a web ball smacks him in the face. He stumbles, the tentacles holding Hobie dropping him in favor of protecting their master. A black streak catches the tall teen, setting him down a safe distance away.

“T-toohok you lohohong enouhuhugh!” Hobie shouted after the other teen, struggling to recover from his rather silly predicament. Miles just stuck his tongue out at him before whirling on Otto.

Once Gwen was set safely aside to recover, Pavitr got back into the fray. He used his bangles and webs to sling-shot himself at the man, catching him in the chest and knocking him off balance. Miles followed suit, weaving around the tentacles to try and get as many shots in as possible.

Otto groaned, staggering as he tried to at least block the kids’ hits. He didn’t want to fight them, but…well, he did need to get back to his dimension.

“WAIT! Just- surrendering! I surrender!” Otto staggered backwards, holding his hands up defensively. Miles went to lunge again, but Pavitr grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Hey, hold on. He’s done.” For safety, the two webbed otto up, restraining his arms–organic and metal–before checking on the others.

Hobie, while winded, was okay; he didn’t seem too happy, though. “Whahat the fuck, Octavious? Seriously? Ticklin’?”

“Would you rather I have fought you by swinging hundred-pound metals at your heads?” Otto just smiled, apparently not that upset that he’d been caught.

“No, but…why?” Gwen walked over as well, still holding her sides; she played it off as crossing her arms. She scanned Otto with her watch, locating his universe; it was the newer, much more humane way they were returning the criminals to their dimensions.

“You’re all children, are you not? I figured it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary.”

All four of them froze at that, sharing one quick “oh shit” look. How did he know? It was literally the first time any of them had seen him; what tipped him off?

“Hey, calm down. I’m ready to go home, not guess at secret identities.” Otto’s tone was strangely paternal, though the group chose to ignore that fact.

“I…whatever. C’mon, guys.” Gwen ushered the villain forward, dissolving the webs right as he stepped through the glowing orange portal.

After a moment of healthy silence to process whatever the hell just happened, Pav broke the silence.

“Well…that was eventful.” He chuckled as Hobie shoved his shoulder, happy to break the tension. Hobie used his watch to make a portal to his universe, tugging the joyful boy in to go watch bad movies and forget about the silly mission.

Miles took a few tentative side-steps towards Gwen, hoping to dissolve some of the awkwardness around her as well.

“Ya know…I don’t need to be home for a good few hours. We could go check out that new record shop in my universe, if you’re up for it…?”

“...alright. Can we get shakes afterwards too?”

“Yeah, no problem. Vinyl and peanut butter fudge await us.”

“Await us?”

“We’re doin’ a Shakespeare analysis, gimme a break!”

-

Oliva set down her duffles of parts, satisfied with how the day went. Sure, her variant was captured and relocated, but she got what she needed out of him. With the tech they’d managed to scrounge up, her plans were perfectly viable.

While getting the pieces organized, Liv couldn’t help but think back on the heist. One of her tentacles had a small glitch; she’d need to run a few diagnostics to see what went wrong.

She also thought about the hellions that tried to ruin her plans yet again. The method Otto implemented to subdue them, while ridiculous, had been surprisingly effective. The supposed teens’ laughter had been rather…well, adorable, for a lack of better words.

When he caught her reflection in the screen, she saw a smile, of all things, greeting her. It was a weakness, finding joy in such frivolous matters. Damn that variant and his infectious ideals!

Still, he was right; it was much easier to tickle them instead of fight.

She’d have to try it again in the future…