Tmnt #raphael Novels & Stories

Grey asked again with his brows arched “Hmn, it’s quiet surprising you remember his number. Yes he is the one” she answered “But you realize he is dead right, he was in the last lab that collapsed” Grey reminded her because he didn’t seem to be processing the information too well. He was there the day the lab was crashing down, he saw Roman stuck in the room and heavily inject with anesthetics “He is pretty much alive and…” she paused as she leaned closer to him “He is the key to creating the perfect shape shifting beast”

I mean I had met them all, but it was different to have them all in the same room. It was like the room just exuded power. It was somewhat intimidating. My eyes landed on Raphael and he looked uncomfortable. I noticed that his eyes were almost silver again. He needs to feed. I thought. I also thought he would have bought a pet… I wondered why he didn’t. I then locked eyes with Rowen, giving him a knowing look. He nodded to me.

“What the fuck did you do?” Daniel’s eyes flitted to the hallway just moments ago, two of Rapha’s men stood there like sentinels, while the others, still bloodied and staggering from the earlier ambush, reeled behind him. “She wasn’t yours to protect.” Rapha eyes didn't leave the tablet in his hand, as the screen spilled cold, clean light on his face. His thumb scrolled with infuriating calm like Daniel was just a petulant child throwing a tantrum he’d grown used to tolerating.

Raph: Constantly. My heart did something ridiculous. Me: You make me sound like a problem. Raph: You are. Me: Wow. Raph: A significant one. Me: Raphael! The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared and then appeared again. When the next message finally popped up, it was a solid block of text and it took longer for me to read and understand it. Raph: But you are a problem I fully intend to own. You want proof of how real this is? The typing bubble flashed for a fraction of a second, and then the next text came.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He looked at Raphael. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3" Raphael was standing with that quality of stillness he had developed since the confession, the specific stillness of a being who has set down something heavy and is still feeling the absence of the weight, still adjusting to the new distribution of things in the absence of what had been carried. His form was fully substantial now, the translucence of the healer's nature almost entirely replaced by the warm solidity of a being who had become physical through the process of allowing himself to feel physical things. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

But even teamwork couldn't overcome these odds forever. A massive golden wolf appeared in front of us, easily twice the size of any normal wolf. His eyes were amber, cold and calculating. Raphael. He shifted to human form, standing naked and unashamed, a cruel smile on his face. "Hello, old friend," he said to Lucian. "Lovely night for a massacre, don't you think?"

“I have a feeling he’s not going to appreciate that type of humor.” The display on his screen showed that the phone was ringing, but there was still no answer. “Oh please, Logan,” Kelda rolled her eyes. “I fought alongside Raph when I was on the side of the Divine. That guy had more affairs with Earth women than you can imagine. He even got a few of them pregnant. It was a massive scandal at the time.” “No way.” Rafe sounded goblinressed. “Raph has halflings?” “Halfling?” Logan questioned.

Tellie says to Bella “Sorry Babes,” Bella shows Tellie her empty bowl. Tellie takes her three chips to the front of the tv and sits down. “Okay I think Bella is Leo, Ryan is Michelangelo, I’m Donatello, and Raymond is absolutely Raphael,” Justin says. “I see it,” Ryan agrees. “I am not grumpy and mean,” Raymond protests. “Tellie,” Ryan asks getting her attention. “Who is Mr. Grumpy?” “Ray ray,” Tellie says with a baby giggle.

“Dream on.” He opened the passenger door for me. Raffaele was impossible to ignore—tall, broad-shouldered, commanding. His dark hair was perpetually messy, a sharp contrast to his defined jaw and intense green eyes. A sleeve tattoo wrapped around his left arm, black geometric patterns and ancient symbols etched into his skin like a story of loyalty and war. Cocky smile. Steady presence. Since the day I ran from the Mezzaluna d’Argento Pack, he had been there—helping me rebuild, supporting me, trusting me. Eventually, I became his right hand in the Pietraluna Pack.

I remember thinking, on the drive over, that I would feel sorry for him. Then I saw him. Rafael Belmont at twenty-seven was the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing I'd ever stood in front of. He wore his grief like armor, his face blank, his posture controlled, nothing escaping through the cracks. But the moment his eyes met mine across the room, something happened that I still couldn't name. The world went very quiet. Just for a second.