TMNT X Reader Oneshots Part 2

Flickers in the Abyss

The following months tested Y/N and Oroku Saki in ways neither had anticipated. The tenuous balance they’d established teetered on the edge, constantly threatened by external pressures and Saki's internal war. Yet, for every argument and act of cruelty, there were stolen moments of tenderness that rooted Y/N’s presence in the otherwise fractured reality of Saki’s world.

---

Y/N began to learn the rhythms of the fortress, as chaotic as they were. The nights were the worst for both of them, each haunted by the choices that had led them to this point.

Y/N often found themselves wandering the halls, avoiding the gaze of wary soldiers who either feared them as Shredder’s enigma or despised them as a perceived distraction to their leader’s focus.

It was during one of these walks that Y/N stumbled upon Saki alone in the strategy room, his helmet discarded on the table before him. He was deep in thought, his fingers brushing over the edges of a worn photograph that lay between blueprints and dossiers.

Y/N hesitated at the door.

“You never stop moving, do you?” Saki’s voice cut through the silence without him turning to look at them.

“Neither do you,” they replied softly, stepping closer. They stopped when they saw the photograph—a rare candid moment of Tang Shen, smiling with her eyes closed, oblivious to the camera.

“Do you miss her?” Y/N asked.

His grip on the photo tightened before he placed it down gently, as if afraid it might disintegrate under too much pressure. “Every day,” he admitted, though his tone was devoid of vulnerability.

Y/N moved closer, standing on the other side of the table. “And yet, everything you’re doing is destroying the things she loved most about you.”

His head snapped up, his dark eyes piercing into theirs. For a moment, Y/N thought they’d overstepped.

“And you think you know what she would have loved?” His voice was bitter, but there was no venom.

“No,” Y/N said honestly. "But I think you do," Y/N finished, their voice trembling but steady enough to meet his hard gaze. The room fell into a heavy silence as their words lingered in the air, tugging at something buried deep within Oroku Saki's cold, guarded heart.

Saki pushed back his chair abruptly, rising to his full height. He seemed to tower over Y/N, shadowed by the weight of his pain and fury.

"You assume much," he said, his voice low and dangerous, though it wavered slightly at the edges. "You know nothing of loss."

Y/N tilted their head, unfazed by his intensity. "Don't I?"

---

That evening marked a turning point, though not an overtly dramatic one. Their interaction cracked open the protective walls around Saki's grief, allowing for glimpses of vulnerability between him and Y/N. They began to spend more time together, though it was never explicitly acknowledged—long silences as Saki sharpened his blades, conversations under starlit skies that faded into introspection, and fleeting moments when their gazes met across a crowded room.

One night, Y/N found themselves on the rooftop of the fortress, staring at the stars. They knew the celestial planes lay far beyond their reach now, but the sight still filled them with longing.

"You miss it, don't you?" Saki's voice startled them.

Y/N turned to find him standing a few feet away, his figure outlined by the pale glow of moonlight. For once, he wasn’t wearing his helmet, and the soft breeze flowing across his face