#Donatello-centric

[tmnt-fun]

Blossoms of Betrayal: A Tale of Love and Hanahaki

When Donatello learned that he was coughing up petals, he decided to keep them to himself.

There is no reason to tell his siblings when he has everything under control! The petals hurt a little, but slowly things started to go wrong. It started to get worse, and he learned that he has a sickness that will kill him sooner than later.

The fear gets worse when he learns what caused the sickness and how to fix it.

Word count- 11,972

Day Eleven

The petals have been appearing more frequently since the first time I saw them.

After looking through a few, I discovered that they appear to be perfectly normal. If I did not already know that they originated from within me, it would be as though I had plucked them right off the plant. It appears that they are from the Lamprocapnos spectabilis, also referred to as the bleeding-heart flower. They belong to the fumitory subfamily of the poppy family and are a particular kind of flowering plant.

They are stunningly beautiful; be that as it may, their slight toxicity means that they are only beautiful to the eye, not to the touch. They cause a rash and itchiness, which I have been trying to ignore each and every time that I even breathe. That is obviously a difficult task. Water appears to soothe it, albeit temporarily.

It makes me shiver and causes a very annoying restlessness, making it difficult for me to even type this. I believe I have yet to face the most serious problems because I have not consumed them. 

The isoquinoline alkaloids found in this type of flower can poison both animals and humans. When taken in large quantities, it can harm the liver and cause seizures in humans. Contact may cause a rash and mild skin irritation in the vast majority of people.

Because they are inside of me, I believe my esophagus and other throat tissues are suffering as a result.

It is extremely painful and inflamed. Unfortunately, the petals are causing me to have to cough quite a bit to get them out, and the rash and soreness in my throat are making it worse than it should be.

The reason these plants are growing inside of me is a mystery to me.

I have thoroughly tested my body, including my blood, and, frustratingly, everything appears to be in order. I am not sure how much longer I can keep it hidden from my siblings and our father.  Last night, I had to excuse myself from the dinner table to refill S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.'s coolant. Despite what I said earlier! Nobody pays attention to what I say. It only requires changing three times per day. Scoff!

That being said, enough of that.

Before I discuss it with my siblings or attempt to remove them myself, I would like to run a few more tests to see if there is anything else going on. I might try searching online for a few things to see if anything like this has ever been documented before. If that were the case, it would be extremely beneficial.

End of note. I will update if I find anything else out.

When Donatello finished writing, he nodded at the screen, saved it, closed the program, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the glowing screen in his darkened room.

Yes, for the last few days, he has had flowers growing inside his lungs, and he isn’t quite sure what was exactly causing that? This was very strange for him, since he knew that that plant grew in late fall or very early spring. The seeds germinate slowly, and they do require moist stratification, but... still. It seems to be something that someone would come up with rather than something that is truly possible! I mean… flowers growing inside of someone? How could that even happen? 

He sighed slowly as he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. As a result of the movement, the chair creaked slightly. This was ridiculous; having flowers growing like this made no sense! He was completely perplexed and hated it so much, especially since petals kept appearing and it appeared as though they were only getting worse rather than better.

Being the brightest and most brilliant of his brothers, he disliked it greatly when he was unsure about something. He felt stupid! Despite the fact that he was well aware that he wasn't.

Donatello perked up when he heard a ringing sound, so he opened his website and smiled when he realized who was calling him at this hour—it was 2:56 AM. He would have hated it if someone had messaged him at random (and even more so if they had called him), but with this particular person, he would make an exception. An extremely rare exception.

After reaching over and hitting the answer button, he puts his hands together and places his chin on top of them. “Hello, my dearest friend other than April, Y/n, what are you calling me at this hour for?” Speaking to them, he was hoping they would not notice that his voice was a little raspy from coughing so much earlier.

Thank goodness they didn't! Or, after noticing, they chose to remain silent. They laugh at the other than April part and start to talk themselves: “Hey Donnie, hope you weren’t asleep… I called you since I couldn’t sleep myself, and I really didn’t think you would be. Was I right?” 

“Mayhaps. Would you take any action to compensate me if I were? Say, could you please bring me the cookies you made a few weeks ago? And by that, I mean, please remake the cookies and bring some to me because I really liked them the last time you brought them over."

He felt his own lips curl into a tiny smile as he heard them giggling. For whatever reason, he enjoyed hearing them laugh. It had such a lovely sound. He felt that tingling sensation in his chest once more. It was annoying that it would happen now while he was talking to his friend. He reaches for his water bottle, takes a sip, and clears his throat as he listens to Y/n speak. “Yeah, I’ll bring them next time that I come over. You’re a goof, you know that?”

A goof, huh? Normally, you would call someone that to dismiss their intelligence; despite this, he was well aware that Y/n was not really saying it that way. It is more of a cutesy nickname. They seemed to give him many of those, didn’t they? Instead of calling him Donnie, they called him Don, DD, D-Tel, Nato, or even Deenie at times. Which, to be honest, he did not get. Why were they so opposed to using his name? Making nicknames based on a nickname? Funny.

"Yes, you have told me before," he says, clearing his throat into his fist to try to stop that irksome tickle. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?” he decided to question, curious.

“Ughhh! Don’t remind me! I don’t wanna go back to school.” They whined, and their voice got muffled, so they were probably covering their face. The four turtles had met Y/n—a human—a long time ago, though obviously not as long as April. Although a lot of time had passed since then, Donatello remembered that day as if it had happened yesterday.

Leonardo was thrown by the person they were fighting with, and instead of hitting a nearby wall or water, he was thrown through a window and didn’t come back out until they were done fighting. It turned out that Y/n, upon hearing their window get smashed, hit him over the head with a bat. They broke the bat, leaving Leonardo with a severe headache and Donatello with the task of repairing the window.

And all the while, Y/n was apologizing!

They had thought that Leonardo was trying to rob them, and Raphael was also saying he was sorry for them breaking the window. Y/n made it up to Leonardo by giving him the cookies that they were making when he ‘broke in’ and Donatello swiped one or two, and they were pretty good. Nothing to write home about, only good.

Not only did Y/n give gifts to the four boys, but they also often brought the cookies to Leonardo as a reminder of what had happened.

Donatello thought it was sweet—and very amusing. Leonardo liked to call them a headache as a nickname and joke as well.

“Don? D? Deeeeee ?” He blinks a few times upon hearing the voice and shakes his head before responding. “Right, yes, sorry, I was… distracted. Did you say anything?" Apart from the nicknames, of course.

“Eh, nothing really, just saying that I don’t want to go to school because I have some tests and I haven’t studied ... dooooo you think, maaaayybeeee, you could come and help me out a little? Eh? Eh?” Even though he could not see them, he could tell they were wiggling their eyebrows.

Weirdo.

Help them out? With a slight grin, he looks at their profile picture while leaning his head against his fist. He could feel his tail swaying back and forth behind him. “Oh? You want Donatello, the genius, to come and help you study for the tests that you decided to leave for the last minute?”

Their laughter filled his ears, which he would not mind if it was the last sound he ever heard before they told him, amusement lacing their voice. "Yes, please, Mr. Genius Donatello. I would love the help of studying for my tests. There is no one better for me to ask than you."

Oh, yeah, that rubbed his ego just right.

He starts to let out soft churring sounds before he perks up, his eyes widening. Ah, there was a strange, tingling, and painful sensation that suddenly appeared in his chest and throat. He quickly mutes himself on the call and reaches for his trash can, where he starts to hack and cough. Petal after petal fell out like a waterfall, some catching in his throat or dripping with the spit past his sharpened teeth. Most of them, fortunately, fall out from the force of his coughs. He had to hack a few more times before clenching his eyes shut. Ew, ew, ew! That bothered him. He hated this so much.

Reaching up, he pulls out the petals that were lodged in his throat, discarding them along with the others. He then swishes his water from his bottle back and forth in his cheeks before spitting that out as well.

The tingly sharp feeling was already forming in the back of his throat, and he knew that he would be spending the next hour or so coughing and clearing his throat to try to get that out.

Something he knew he wouldn't be able to do.

He sniffles and wipes his snout before leaning back in his chair and re-grabbing his headphones to put them back on. "Donnie? Are you all right? What happened?" The sound of Y/n's voice filled his ears once more; their voice sounded worried.

He hated making them worry. Even more so because they were worried about him .

With a shake of his head, he unmutes himself and replies, "I'm alright. I wanted to spare you the unpleasantness of hearing that something got knocked over. It was… very loud." He really hoped that that sounded like a good lie... even though he hated lying because he sucked at it.

Y/n didn't respond for a few moments before they hummed. "Alright, whatever you say... when would you like to come over? I'll make you those special cookies—a whole batch all for yourself." And even though his throat was burning, his chest hurt, and everything ached... his tail started to wag again, knowing that they would do that for him.

They made plans that he would come by the next day.

With that, he removed his headphones, grabbed his bottle, tossed it into the trash with the rest of the petals, and stood up from his chair to go get himself another bottle of water. He's been drinking a lot more water, which both Michelangelo and Raphael told him that they were proud of since, you know, water was very important.

And just because he doesn't like eating much doesn't mean that he doesn't drink enough water... I mean, he doesn't, except that that's not his fault.

Don't ask whose fault it was.

He didn't have an answer.

Donatello yawns and stretches his arms above his head as he leaves his lab to head to the kitchen. It was exhausting for him to cough so much! And painful.

Normally, he could go a few days without feeling the effect of staying awake for so long.

So the fact that he did feel it already, well, that was pretty disagreeable.

He made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge door, his eyes scanning to look at all of the things that they had. A bowl was covered in a silver sheet, and when he moved it slightly, he saw that it was the pudding. Michelangelo made it for the banana pudding that he was going to make special.

Shockingly, Leonardo hasn't messed with it yet.

After looking for a few moments, he grabbed a bottle of water and opened it, starting to sip from the bottle. The feeling of itchiness deep in his throat was making it hard to drink or eat anything . Water was easy, at least, although anything else was painful, and he already had a hard time eating, so this was very discouraging.

Michelangelo seemed worried that he's been avoiding eating all over again, though he has done that for such a long time now that it shouldn't be that shocking. Sure, now it was for a different reason than him just not wanting to eat… not that his brother would know that.

Admittedly, Donatello would much rather them not finding out about it. Explaining that he didn't want to eat or wasn't hungry was easier than trying to explain that he was in a lot of pain.

It's only been getting worse.

"Dontron!" He heard, causing him to pause, he then sighs after swallowing his water. He looks over his shoulder to see that it was Leonardo!

Of course it was Leonardo, as they were both the ones who had a hard time sleeping in their household. Raphael also did at times, but that was because his kind of turtle normally stayed awake during the night to hunt and slept during the day.

The word for that is nocturnal.

They often went out during the night as well, today they decided to stay in. Donatello would check the cameras later to make sure nothing was going on.

Bad, he meant.

Sometimes he liked to watch the cameras to see stupid people do stupid things. It made him laugh. When people thought that they were alone, they would often do things that they wouldn't normally do. Or, you know, most of the time, they slip on ice. He has seen some drug deals and then police cars driving fast. Other times, he saw people spray painting, sneaking around, or even things worse than that.

He liked it when people slipped.

Leonardo was more than just his brother; he was also his twin. It was something that they decided on when they were much much younger. Did he regret it? No, no, he didn't. Leonardo was his twin, and he loved him... Even if he could be annoying at times. Always times, pretty much.

"What do you want, Nardo? It's late—have you not slept again?" Ugh! His voice was all raspy. He takes a sip from his bottle while looking at Leonardo. You know, it might be making him need to drink more water so the plants would have enough water to grow. Would it be better for him to not water it so it wouldn't be able to grow as well? Would that help at all? That could be a good test for him to run later.

His dearest twin smiles and laughs, putting his hands on his hips as he answers, "Nope! And I know you didn't either. What are you up to?" He turns his head to the side, seeming interested. Leonardo was a red-eared slider, as most people already knew, and he was the younger of the twins.

When they were younger, Donatello won the game.

They played rock, paper, scissors, and Donatello won, so he was given the honor of being the oldest twin of the two.

Because he didn’t think it was fair, Leonardo always complains about it. Donatello thought it was completely fair. Donatello just happened to win the game based on the rules they agreed upon when they were younger. If he had to be completely honest, he didn’t see how that would be unfair.

Anyhow.

His eyes were a brilliant yellow and green, piercingly bright. They had both colors, but yellow on top and green on the bottom, while Donatello’s eyes were one red and one blue. Michelangelo liked to say that they were color palettes! Because the primary colors are blue, yellow, and red. Red, green, and blue are additive color models. Typical RGB input devices are color TVs and video cameras, image scanners, and digital cameras. Raphael laughed when Michelangelo said that, as he thought it was a bit silly.

“I’m not really doing anything; I was planning on heading to bed soon. I’m pretty tired.” The flowers were taking up a lot of his energy, and he wanted to wake up early enough to do some tests on them. Mostly, he wanted to get some of the petals and figure out if they had anything different about them. The last ones didn’t, but these might? Maybe…

Almost certainly not. Sigh .

Leonardo turns his head to the side. “Huh? You’re gonna go to bed earlier? That’s a first.” He laughs and walks over, swinging his arm around Donatello’s shoulders, tugging him closer, and continuing, “Aw, come on, we should hang out! We never hang out one on one anymore.”

Never hang out one-on-one anymore? Well… he guessed that Leonardo was right about that; they hadn’t really had the chance to hang out with just the two of them for a while. He lets out a hum, then nods and mumbles. “We can hang out; what do you want to do?” Leonardo gets a big grin on his face and starts to drag Donatello to his bedroom so they can sit together and do whatever he wants to do.

Maybe paint nails. That is something that they used to do together pretty often.

Oh man…

This was something he was going to have to deal with now, huh? Oh well, this might be interesting and just what he needs to get his mind off the fact that he has flowers growing in his lungs.

Hm…

That sounded really bad.

The twin turtles headed to Leonardo’s room, and he fell back onto the bed, bouncing on it before putting his arms behind his head and shutting his eyes. They both had some bad insomnia, for two different reasons. Donatello sits on the edge and leans back on his hands. 

“So, Don, you said that you weren’t doing anything, right?” When he nodded to show that yes, that’s what he said, Leonardo continued. His eyes were shut. “I don’t remember the last time that you weren’t doing anything… so, tell me the truth: were you really not doing anything or were you doing stuff that you didn’t wanna say?”

Donatello paused at that, his eyes widening slightly, then squinted and reached over to grab one of Leonardo’s, way too many pillows, and smacked him with it. “Shut up! You’re starting to sound like Angelo.” Leonardo yelps, then starts to laugh and covers his face with his arms. “Nooo! Don’t attack me!” Donatello, not listening to his brother's pleas, continued to hit him with the feather-filled pillow.

He hated it whenever people poked holes through whatever he said. He said it, so they should accept what he said! He didn’t want to talk about the other thing right now. It wasn’t bad enough to worry him yet. Sure, it was hard to breathe at times, and he had been coughing more, but he had a feeling he knew how to stop it!

If not, then… he would try other things. He didn’t want to worry his brothers, as he knew that they would worry too much. They would probably panic, and then that would cause more issues than they could ever hope to solve. Plus, you know, the humans would figure it out, and he didn’t want to worry April or Y/n.

April would get mad at him for not telling them earlier, and Y/n… oh Y/n… they would be so worried about him. He could already see the worry in their eyes and the fear in their voice as they asked him why he didn’t tell them.

Luckily, he was knocked out of his thoughts before they got too dark when he felt something soft hit the side of his head. He blinks a few times to see Leonardo sticking his tongue out at him and laughing. “Ha! Sneak attack.” It's not really a sneak attack if you shout sneak attack after it, but he narrows his eyes and leans over, starting to hit him again.

“You are such a brat!” Donatello says this while Leonardo rolls out of the way to not get hit too many times and grabs his own pillow to hit him back.

Thinking of Y/n and April before, it started to cause that tingle in the back of his throat and the tightness in his chest. His throat burned as though he had swallowed burning coal, and he could tell that it was swollen. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t breathe as easily as he used to?

It would explain a lot.

They played like that for a bit until Donatello couldn't anymore. He sets the pillow down, breathing a bit harder than normal, and coughs. "G...Give me a moment." He covers his mouth with his fist, holding up a finger to silently add that. The coughs didn't stop, and luckily no flower petals came up this time.

Leonardo looks at him and frowns. "Huh?" He sets the pillow down and scoots closer, asking, "Dude, are you okay? You sound like you're hacking up a lung." He reaches out and rubs him on the back.

That's what it felt like.

A soreness that shot through his arms, and even his shell felt the ache. It's crazy that a few little flowers could have this bad of an effect on him.

What should he say?

Should he tell the truth?

Should he lie?

Donatello was never the best at lying; that was something everyone knew about him. Donatello was a genius, but Donatello wasn't a very good liar! Pretty much everyone could tell if he was telling the truth or not.

It is such a big part of his character that it has been brought up a few times already.

He darted his tongue out to wet his lips and was about to respond when Leonardo reached out to grab his cheeks and studied him closer, causing his eyes to widen. Panic shot through him for just a moment, then he pulled back harshly, shaking his head fast. "What are you doing?!" He didn't mean to snap!

He really didn't.

Somebody grabbing his face like that? What the hell!? Who wouldn't panic, at least a little?

"You're bleeding..." Leonardo's voice cut through the air faster than any blade could, and it made Donatello's skin chill like he had stepped out into a blizzard.

He was bleeding?

He reaches up and touches his lip, then pulls his hand back to see the redness that was coating his fingers. It was only a little, and that explained the foul taste of iron that tainted his tongue.

His eyes shoot up to see Leonardo looking at him with a frown on his face. He rests his hands down on the bed and asks, unease lacing his words. "Donnie, why are you bleeding? Have you been coughing that bad for a bit? For how long?"

Damn his twin for being the medic. He could probably tell that something was wrong—having said that, probably anyone would be able to tell that something was wrong if the person was coughing so badly as to cause blood, but I digress. 

"Long enough that I have been able to find the issue, and I'm working on fixing it. Don't worry." He told his twin, cursing the way his voice broke on a few words. Damn his raspy, rough voice! It felt so strained and uncomfortable.

Leonardo's eyes would close slightly each time his voice broke. He was flinching without showing it, wasn't he? Man... this was why he didn't want his siblings to figure it out. "Promise?" Leonardo asks, and he simply nods, his eyes darting away. 

Unfortunately, he knew he could not make any such promises.

After that, their joyful mirth had, accidentally, been ruined by him and not too long later, Donatello left to go to his room to get some rest. In the morning, he was planning on running a few tests as well as maybe going to the Hidden City Library, where, on the off chance, he could find something about this sickness.

Learning about it meant he could fix it.

He made Leonardo swear not to tell Raphael or Michelangelo. He knew that telling them would not help them and would actually hurt him and his ability to figure it out on his own.

They would say that they had to come with him to make sure he was safe, and then they would get themselves locked in the kid room.

Again .

When he enters his room, he places his hand on his chest and takes a deep breath, or as deep as he can, before lying back in his bed and closing his eyes to try to relax. He would try to sleep and, in the morning, go before having to go and see Y/n.

Hopefully, he will find something when he goes.

He wanted to find something? Oh, yes, he did find something!

An annoyance !

Michelangelo had already been awake when he got up to go to the Hidden City Library, and he looked over at him before smiling. "Dee! Hey, I was just about to get started on breakfast. Do you want any? I'm making pancakes—your favorite." He sounded excited and hopeful.

It had been a bit since they had pancakes, and yes, they were a good comfort food for the soft-shelled turtle. They almost always turned out the same, and he never had syrup with them.

Honestly, if he got sticky, he would die. "Ah... I'm not hungry. I’m planning on going out for a little while anyway."

"Aww, what? Come on, pretty please Donnie? I'm worried about you. You’ve been avoiding eating again ." Michelangelo told him, a whine in his voice.

Gosh, he had whiny brothers, didn’t he? 

"The physical appearance of the please makes no difference to me." He replies, seeing Michelangelo giving him a look, so he sighs and continues. "I'm fine. When I get home, I will join you for lunch AND dinner." He holds up his hand, resting the other on his chest. "I promise."

Never did he like to promise things like that—he just knew that it would help Michelangelo feel better. 

Once again, the youngest gives him a look before he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, but I'm holding you to that, even if I have to get rope." That was, hopefully, a joke. Donatello always had a hard time telling! Even more so with Michelangelo, because, well, he was strange.

And now he was in the library.

He wanted to do the tests today, as he has stated numerous times already, and he did! He put the petals into the machine to scan them and look for anything strange about them, and then he decided to go and try to find a book about it.

When he walked in, the bat lady squinted and placed her finger to her lips. He looks at her and smiles, raising his hand in a wave and whispering shouts. "Good morning, Ivah. You look amazing as usual." To not get scolded for that slight raise of voice, he hurries off.

It was not even that loud.

He walked through the pathways, having to use his staff as a cane. Walking was becoming unusually difficult, and he was having a hard time breathing without coughing or gagging because of the tingle in his throat.

This was strange and upsetting, so he was really hoping to find out what was causing this before he had to leave to go and spend time with Y/n. They were supposed to be meeting up today at five, and it was already two.

Dufus woke up late.

It was now four, and he has yet to find anything that spoke about his illness. He sighs, sitting at one of the tables and flipping through the pages of the book, his head resting on his fist. This was so annoying.

This book spoke about many different illnesses and the treatments for those illnesses. The title was ‘Whispers of affliction: a chronicle of ailments and cures’

Okay, this one was called 'Harmonic Resonance Disorder,' and it causes people to have an increased sensitivity to certain frequencies of sound. It’s caused by a rare combination of genetic predispositions and prolonged exposure to specific ambient noises. It disrupts the normal auditory processing in the affected individuals, and it causes dizziness, headaches, and difficulty focusing in noisy environments. That didn't help him at all, so he flipped to the next page.

The following page was titled 'Chrono-Phase Misalignment,' and it refers to the disruption of an individual's internal biological clock's synchronization with the natural day-night cycle. The causes are a genetic predisposition as well as irregular sleep patterns, which result in symptoms such as insomnia, fatigue, dizziness, heart palpitations, and cognitive difficulties. The cure is a special liquid made in the light of a full moon. Once again, it was ineffective.

Next page!

‘Quantum Flux Disorientation,’ that is an intriguing term... exposure to an anomalous quantum field causes this strange illness. It causes temporary disorientation in affected individuals, leading to spatial perception shifts, nausea or vomiting, mild hallucinations, and the sensation of existing in multiple places at once. The cause of this is still a mystery, and the cure is time.

Heh, yeah, he's glad that he doesn't have that one.

"Where is the one I am looking for?" he murmurs under his breath as he begins to flip through the pages quickly, squinting at the words he could see. This is so inconvenient! He wanted to find out what was going on with the flowers.

He perks up when he gets to a few certain pages. Oh, huh, one with just flowers and plants... good. He stops at one of the pages and looks at the writing. 'Petalosis Syndrome' this one results from an unusual interaction between a specific set of airborne flower particles and an individual's immune system. Some people develop colorful petal-like patterns on their skin as a result of it. It is a harmless illness that is frequently accompanied by a floral fragrance emanating from the person suffering from it.

Startlingly, there didn’t seem to be a cure for that one.

Then the next page.

This page describes a condition known as "Luminafication," which is caused by a specific flower whose petals release blue pollen. When inhaled, this pollen disrupts the body's energy flow, resulting in the formation of vivid, luminescent patterns on the skin. As the affliction progresses, these patterns spread, causing fatigue and eventually weakening the affected person's life force. The only known treatment is nectar from a different flower that grows only in Japan. He squints at the page and mumbles to himself. "That is not going to help me." That sickness doesn't make sense to Donatello, and he was very happy that he didn't have that one.

It would be problematic to have to go to Japan.

Next page... once more. 

The following one on the page was titled 'Aurora Veil Syndrome.' This illness is caused by the pollen of the rare Aurora Veil flower. Individuals who become infected begin to have vivid dreams in which their emotions manifest as colorful auroras. If these emotional auroras become too intense, they manifest as physical luminescence around the infected. It causes a range of symptoms, from temporary paralysis to uncomfortable bursts of emotion. Ignoring it will cause it to spread and consume so much energy from the infected that they will be unable to get out of bed.

Of course that would then lead to death.

And then the one on the next page caught his eye.

The pulmonary disorder 'Hanahaki Disease' is characterized by abnormal floral growth within the respiratory tract. The condition is usually caused by unrequited romantic affection, which causes an abnormal physiological response. As the emotional distress intensifies, the affected individual experiences coughing episodes expelling botanical matter, such as petals or flowers. 

The longer the feelings go unspoken, the more the flowers grow until they fill the affected person's lungs and cannot be removed due to the roots.

The only known treatment for this disease is 'Floral Extraction Surgery,' in which skilled surgeons use advanced technology to carefully extract the floral growth from the affected person's respiratory system. The surgery aims to restore normal pulmonary function while addressing the emotional roots of the condition. Alternatively, successful reciprocation of romantic feelings acts as a non-invasive remedy, causing the flowers to naturally recede. It's important to note that the surgery will remove the romantic feelings as well as the memories of the affected individual's crush.

Hanahaki Disease? That doesn't make sense to Donatello. He has no way of having a crush on anyone! Even if everything else on the page made sense and was exactly what was going on.

He knew that he didn't have a crush.

He purses his lips and looks at the page, then shakes his head and resumes flipping through the pages. No way, no how! He was going to find something else that made more sense than this! He would have to find something.

Who could he possibly have feelings for? He could not imagine himself dating anyone in his life.

Most of the people that they knew were much older than them, or evil, or both. Maybe one of the Purple Dragon people, but no, he didn't want that.

No matter how exciting it would be... It would be like one of the bad fanfics that his brother always read that he thought nobody knew about. Of course Donatello knew about it! He was the only reason that they had internet access and the ability to see stuff like that in the first place.

Over the next two hours, he continued looking through books to try to find something, anything, but once more, he couldn’t find anything that helped him.

Donatello lets out a groan and drops his head down onto the table. How stupid! It's absurd for a book to try to convince him that he had a crush on someone when, in reality, he knew that he didn't. What sort of person could he possibly be crushing on, anyway? 

A loud ringing echoed throughout the library, making him jump. He quickly picks up his phone, hits the answer button, and gives the bat woman a silent "I'm sorry" gesture before placing the phone to his head and responding. "Hello?" Who could be calling him now? He’s busy!

"Um..." He heard a voice start to speak—a familiar voice. "Hey, Donnie, it's Y/n, hi. I was wondering if you were still planning on coming over? I didn't message you or anything for a while in case you were busy doing something, but I know it would have bugged you if you forgot to tell me you weren't coming by.”

Y/n was calling him? He blinks a few times, confused. What were they talking about? It was still too early, right? He pulls his phone back to look at the time, and his eyes widen. What the hell happened? Where did the time go? He hops up and hurries to replace the book where it was supposed to be. "I lost track of time; I will be coming over right now to help you with your studying. You should get everything set up and ready for me when I get there."

He heard them laugh, and they told him that they would be right on that before they hung up. He looks down at the phone and mumbles, "How did it get so late so fast?" He shakes his head at himself and looks forward. In any case, that book was stupid—a sickness caused by love gone wrong?

Hilarious.

There is no way; if it were, people would talk about it more, wouldn't they?

Unless it was some kind of mutant/yokai thing?

That would account for a few things...

He bites the inside of his cheek at the thought and shakes his head to try to get his mind off that. Yeah, no, he didn't want to even think about that, as he still had no idea who the person was that he had a crush on! He considered April to be a sister, and Y/n...

No.

It could not possibly be them. They were a friend, and only a friend. He knew that they were just friends, and it would be stupid to think otherwise.

With that thought in mind, he started to head to their building so he could help them out. It felt kind of nice to know that they would ask him to help them with something as important as a test! And it's been a bit since they were able to spend time together. The thought of being alone with them caused his heart to flutter, followed by a shooting pain through his chest as if caused by a bullet ripping through him.

He stumbles and falls down onto his knees on top of one of the buildings, starting to cough hard. Petals poured out of his mouth, and he had to continue hacking to try to get them all out.

No matter how many times he coughed, more and more just kept coming. It made him want to vomit, even though he knew he had nothing left in his stomach to spare for it. The only thing that would come up would be bile.

The pain in his throat, which had already been excruciating, worsened, and he gasped for air between each furious expulsion of his lungs. Each convulsion wrenched his chest, making it impossible for him to catch the air that he needed.

Donatello wondered, as the corners of his eyes started to fade to black, what he had done to deserve this? Why was he hurting so badly? To him, it made no sense! Why would he be in such pain because he loves someone? 

The surroundings around him became hazy, with colors shifting into a muted palette and lights that appeared to be swirling. All he had to support himself were his limbs, which felt heavy. The loud noises of sirens and beeping horns grew muted and far away, as though a fog was enveloping him.

Despite the pain he was experiencing, he managed to draw in a breath before slipping into the darkness and using his arm to wipe his mouth in an effort to catch his breath. His muscles screamed at him, his head was hurting, and he had a crazy sensation of tingling going through him.

Sharp shutters were dancing along his spine.

Donatello stared down at the petals on the roof in front of him, noticing the bright red speckles covering them. The same crimson liquid was all over his arm; he was bleeding, and it hurt considerably more this time. He wondered exactly how long this would go before it turned into too much for him, considering that there were also a lot more petals than before.

Even now, he feels so weak.

His eyes burned from the tears that forced their way out while he was coughing, and his hands trembled. This... he had that stupid flower sickness, and if he was right, then he knew the cause of it.

He was in love with Y/n.

He should have realized it by now! How much of an idiot is he, actually? It is, of course, on Y/n! Who else could it possibly be? On top of that, he would be thinking about them each time he coughed. Or, at the very least, the coughing got worse in response to the thoughts of them.

Sitting on his knees, staring down at the bloodied petals, Donatello thought. He liked to think he was the smartest person in his family, and he was, but not when it came to emotions. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Is he supposed to tell them? What would he tell them?

Oh, yes, hello, Y/n, I came to help you with your studies, but I have a crush on you, and if you don't return my feelings, I may die because I am coughing up petals that are blocking my airways. I almost passed out on the way here! Yeah, I’m bleeding a lot.

Yeah, that would be the best idea!

Donatello sniffles and wipes his eyes before taking out his phone and typing a message to Y/n. 'Something came up. I can't come over. If you send me the problems, I will give you the answers amd help you study later' and with that, he slowly got to his feet, stumbled, and started to head home. He needed to figure this out before it got worse.

He's sure that he could figure out a way to stop himself from dying, and nobody has to know what he went through.

At least... that's what he wanted to have happen, but as he made his way back into the area that they knew as their home, his vision, which had been fading in and out, finally went black, and he felt himself fall forward before hitting the ground.

Then he was out.

When Donatello started to come through, everything felt numb. He didn't feel pain anymore, and he had to wonder if maybe he died right there.

Of course not.

It wouldn't be that easy.

Luckily 

His eyes scanned around lazily to see that he was lying in the medical station; a tube was connected to his arm, and he knew that that was probably the strongest thing that they could give him. They were immune to most medicine, so Donatello had to get very good stuff.

Very expensive stuff.

Raphael often asked him how he got it, but he always told the oldest not to worry about that. There was no reason for him to do it. Question it, he meant.

Raphael muttered that that didn't make him feel any better. Yeah, well, sometimes they had to steal some stuff. Not everyone has such an amazing moral compass, dear brother. They would be—pardon his language—fucked if Donatello had one.

Anyway, that makes sense. He probably passed out when he came in, and the others found him and took him in here. They then saw that he was in pain, so they gave him medicine. Troublesome, as he really didn’t want them to know about it.

Once he figured that out, he opened his mouth to try to say something to tell them that hey, he was awake, except that no noise came out.

Well…

Nothing other than a soft croak.

Wrong! He was a turtle, not a frog.

That’s… not what he wanted to have happen. He gulps, feeling a strange sensation in his throat, and he drags his tongue across his lips to wet them before trying again. “G-Guys?” Still not very good, albeit better than before, at least. Now he could talk. 

Geez, his mouth felt so dry.

Leonardo pokes his head in, then looks over his shoulder, shouting, "Guys! He's awake." He rushes into the room and looks at him with a deep frown on his face. "You always gotta be dramatic, huh? You should leave that to me; you're the dancy dancy guy… what happened?" When Donatello only gave him a stare, he sighed, putting his hand on the side of his head with his eyes shut. "Geez..." he mumbles under his breath.

Donatello knew that he could answer that, but also, you know, he was kind of offended? He's known more than just as the dancy dancy guy! He's the plant, smart, dancy guy! Scoff? Just the dancy dancy guy… what the hell, Leonardo?

That's like saying you're just a medic!

Raphael and Michelangelo came into the room, and Raphael looked at him, frowned, then asked, "Donnie, what happened?" his voice held worry and confusion. He was probably the one who had to carry Donatello in here.

Aw… that makes him feel bad.

At the moment, he didn’t feel the weight of his battleshell on his back, so that was probably taken off of him before they laid him down. Man, he hated it whenever he didn’t have that on; it made him feel kind of strange.

Unprotected.

Unsafe.

He breathes out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding and leans back. The bed in here was never that comfortable; it always made him want to move the pillow.

The feathers in it would often poke out through the fabric and poke him. Only enough to annoy him, not enough to cause any real pain. "I... have a type of sickness, a-and it's not the easiest to deal with." As he spoke, his voice was hoarse, and it was hard to get the words out.

Slight spikes of pain appeared too, only to disappear before he could really focus on them. Was it good? He wasn't 100% sure.

"What do you mean by sickness?" Michelangelo questions while Leonardo jumps in by adding, "Is it connected to when you coughed earlier?" Donatello only nods to show that yes, it was connected. At least Leonardo could explain it a little.

His dear twin, in all probability, had no idea what the sickness was, and he didn’t want to tell them that yet. He didn’t want them to know that he was probably dying because of Y/n—not that he would blame them for it.

It would be his own fault if he died from this.

And the idea of that… the idea of that scared him.

Being only 14, Donatello wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready to feel all of the pain these flowers were causing him, and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye or tell Y/n that he liked them! He only found out himself earlier, and now if he didn’t, it might be too late. How is this fair? How is any of this fair ?

Raphael asked what exactly Leonardo was talking about, and he started to explain all of what he knew, which sadly wasn't a lot. Since that was being handled, Donatello shut his eyes, thinking about this. Would it be a good idea for him to tell Y/n? Also, how long has it been since he passed out? Probably an hour, maybe a tiny bit less? He could feel sick from it already—a gross nausea that made him unable to turn his head around too fast.

Telling them would help him feel better, maybe, and hey, maybe he would get a partner? Gosh, the idea of dating them made him feel... good.

Ah, what to do, what to do—the hardest question to answer.

It had to do with 100% emotions, and everyone knew that Donatello was never the best at emotions. They were just chemicals! He should be able to figure it out, then he can't, and he hated it.

Over the next few days, Leonardo kept Donatello in the medical room. He said it was so he could keep an eye on him and his healing process.

When he argued, or at least tried to, Leonardo shook his head and told him. "Dude, you're never gonna get better if you don't let me try to help you. You're gonna need water, and Mikey's making you soup broth to help you a little.” he moved to sit beside the bed while he spoke. “And if I let you out of this room, Raph might just kill me. You should have seen how freaked out he got when he saw you!” He laughs.

Even Donatello could tell that he was nervous, even if he was laughing.

So, to not make his twin worry even more, he agreed to lay in bed and accept the liquid pumping into him as well as the broth that the youngest tried to give him. Raphael changed out the pillows, since he knew that Donatello didn’t like the pillows in this place.

He appreciated that.

What he didn't appreciate, on the other hand, was the fact that he knew they wouldn’t be able to help him with this. The only way he could get better from it was to get the surgery, which he knew he wouldn’t be able to do, or to tell Y/n that he liked them.

Fortunately, he hasn’t coughed up the flowers around them. He knew that April and Y/n knew that he was sick; April had come and seen him already, but so far, Y/n hasn’t. They did send him the cookies that they had promised him.

The ones that he couldn't eat.

They said that they got in trouble for failing the quiz— oops .

Leonardo was checking his vitals with a small frown on his face, humming under his breath. Donatello turns his head to look at him and asks. “Are you guys going to let me get up soon? I have stuff that I want to work on.” Ah, his voice still sounds bad, although not as bad as before. Right now, he was just feeling very weak and tired.

It was an annoying feeling.

“The stuff you want to work on can wait. You’re gonna have to stay here until you feel better… you’re still coughing, and you seem to have a shortness of breath. You said you had chest pain, an aching body, you feel tired, I could tell you have a slight fever, and I can't tell if the loss of appetite is from what you're doing or if you're just you." He had to let out a little laugh after saying that, which made Donatello roll his eyes. "The inside of your throat seems red and inflamed, so I'm going to try to find something to help with that. Your dehydration is being fixed because of this." He taps his pen against the bag that was connected to the tube that was leading to his arm. “And you’d tell me if you feel light-headed or dizzy, right?”

Alright, well, this was awesome. He sighs, shuts his eyes, and rests his head down against the pillow again, his mind wandering with many different thoughts.

The meds were helping him not feel pain anymore, and the soup was helping him out too, but... he felt so tired.

He had been sleeping more than usual, which irritated him. Being able to sleep was nice; it really was. In any case, he wanted to do other things! He wanted to go back to work; he wanted to be able to think about Y/n without coughing. He wanted to feel okay, or at least sick because of his own stupid decision, rather than the fact that he was probably dying.

“Oh! By the way, Y/n's coming over to see you. Aren't you special?" His brother teased him, making his eyes widen. Were they on their way over?  His heartbeat, which the machine was monitoring, began to pick up, and he felt that dreadful tingle appearing in his throat all over again.

Crap, crap, crap.

"When?" he asks quickly, trying hard not to cough. His eyes watered, and his throat was feeling sore again, even through the medicine that he was given.

The reply said maybe 20ish minutes? So Donatello asked him to bring him some honey tea since his throat was starting to feel sore again. Leonardo nodded and went off to ask Raphael to make it... he was better at making that fancy tea than Leonardo was. Oh! Maybe he would ask Raphael to make chamomile tea since Leonardo liked that too and he wanted some. Their dad would likely try to get some too.

Once Leonardo left, Donatello leans over and starts to cough into the trash can near him. This time, however, something felt different.

It was worse.

It felt so much worse .

Each cough made him feel as though he was being stabbed, even with the medicine that he had been given. Petals were coming out, luckily, but there was something else stuck in his throat, so he had to reach up to pull the other parts out.

Alright, now it seemed like he pulled it off the plant 100%. It was more than just petals; it was the full flower in his grip.

He rests his head down against his arm, panting hard to try to catch his breath once all of the flowers have been expelled from inside him. He could feel the soreness and tension, and he knew that he was bleeding all over again. That disgusting taste tainted his tongue and made him want water to gargle. Having said that, he knew better than to try to get up.

One because he had a tube in his arm, and two because he knew that they would get upset with him for getting up rather than asking one of them for help.

They were protective, and it was honestly a bit much at times. Mostly Raphael, as most would expect from him being the oldest.

He understood their worry and fear, though. Donatello was a soft-shelled turtle, which meant his shell was, of course, soft and leather-like. That, plus his ability to not exactly take very good care of himself, would all add up at times. This was, sadly, one of those times.

He remembered that he used to get sick fairly often when he was younger as well. Stupid considering the fact that he was a mutant turtle who was supposed to be immune to most sicknesses.

Not this one, he guessed!

Ugh, stupid Draxum... wait...

Donatello's eyes widened as he sat up slightly. He wouldn't have to tell Y/n! He could ask Draxum for help! He's sure that maybe, just maybe, he would know a cure other than surgery or confession.

Frankly, he didn't think that he was ready for it... confessing ones emotions should be done when they want to, not because they have to. Though he figured some people would wait forever and not be able to confess, no matter what.

And with this, you'd, well, you'd doubtlessly die because of it.

The idea of that made his skin crawl. 

"Okay! Raph's making your tea." Leonardo said as he walked in, then paused, looking at him. "Oh, gross, did you puke? I can empty that." he points at the trash can.

"N-No... it's... it's alright." He replied, letting out a small cough while he spoke. Damn his body for betraying him like this! At least no petals came out? He was expecting Leonardo to take longer.

Getting a wave of the hand back as a silent 'don't worry about it', Leonardo walks over to grab the bag from the trash can so he could throw it out, yet pauses once more. "Huh?" he stares at the petals, then looks at him with confusion clear on his face. "D, what are these? Why are they covered in blood?"

Well, that was... the opposite of what he wanted to have happen, so he shut his mouth in a tight line, staring at his brother. Couldn't call him a liar if he didn't say anything!

What the heck was he supposed to say? The truth? Ha! Hysterical! As if.

Man, Michelangelo would be so disappointed in him if he knew. None of them really spoke about their issues, and he didn't want to be the one to start it.

"Donnie, I know you can talk. Tell me what's going on. Why are there flowers in the trash that have blood on them?" Leonardo raised his voice a little as he spoke. Ah, that's not a good sign. He gulps, feeling his head throbbing with pain that was fading in and out.

One that he knew would be worse if it wasn't for the medications he was given.

Should he say something?

What should he say?

He lets out a shaky breath and starts to talk. "Do you remember t...the sickness that I told you about?" When he got a nod, he continued, letting out a soft wheeze. "Well, this is it. I keep... coughing up the petals, and it's getting worse." guess he was telling the truth after all. "I found out the way to fix it, but... I don't... I don't know." Man, normally he liked to talk, and yet just getting those words out made him tired.

"You found out a way to fix it? Then why aren't you doing it?" Leonardo questions again, holding up his hand. "Do you have any idea how worried I am? You look like these flowers are going to be on your grave or something!" It must be bad if even Leonardo was acting like this. Donatello knew he felt bad, still, did he really look that bad?

Before he could respond to try to calm his brother or make a joke about it to get him to try to calm down, they heard the curtain open, and Raphael pokes his head in. "Hey guys, I'm done with the tea that you asked for." He walks over and sets the little plate down with the tea cup on top of it.

The steam was rising off of the hot liquid, looking like tendrils gracefully dancing with the light shining through it. His eyes shoot over to look at Leonardo, who was frowning, then he looks down and picks up the cup, mumbling a thank you. He looks down at the cup and sips from it with his eyes shut.

It was hot.

He slightly burned his tongue, though he would rather that than have to talk about his issues.

"And Y/n's here; should I tell them to come on in?" Raphael continued, turning his head to the side.

The drinking paused as Donatello heard that. Damn it, why did they have to come? There was too much happening at once! First he felt strange because of the soreness in his throat, then Leonardo found out about the sickness, and now Y/n was here!

The cause of all of this, even if they didn't know.

He breathes out slowly through his nose and reaches over to set the cup down. The warmth helped soothe the soreness in his throat, and he nodded. "They can come in... I would like some alone time with them, please." Leonardo opens his mouth, then shuts it, and sighs out slowly. "Alright." He reaches over to take Raphael's hand, leading him out of the room.

Since Leonardo didn’t make a joke, Donatello knew he was upset and he didn’t blame him at all.

This was going against his plan.

Donatello didn't... like that.

He hated it whenever things went against the plans that he had in his head. In the morning, he woke up and made a plan most of the time. He would work on his creations, check on his plants, then deal with whatever happened the rest of that day, but this? This was going against everything!

Because of the sickness, he has yet to be able to work on his creations, check on his plants, or anything! You know what he had to do? He had to let Michelangelo handle his plants. He hated anyone else messing with them because the plants were his. 

His and only his.

While he was rambling in his head, he heard footsteps, so he lifted his head to see that Y/n came in, brushing the curtain out of the way, and they looked at him.

They exchanged glances for a few moments before Y/n smiled slightly and raised their hand, waving at him, saying, "Hey Donnie... sorry it took me so long to come and see you." They came over and sat beside the bed.

Gosh. They were thoughtful to come and see him, even though he did not particularly want them to. Nothing against them; as you are aware, he really likes them! The PROBLEM is that he really likes them. 

Ugh.

He looks down to avoid looking at them and picks up his tea cup, slowly sipping from it to relieve the tingle in his throat. He didn't think he had any more petals to cough up now, or at least he hoped not. Maybe they would grow back, but he's been coughing a lot lately.

Much more than usual.

The normal amount of coughing should be zero, if he had to be honest. Coughing was so irritating! Something that would give you headaches, a sore back, arm, or anything else like that. “You got in trouble; it isn’t your fault.” When he saw them flinch at his voice, he had to purse his lips. Aw man, it was that bad.

They sat in silence together; the only sounds were the sounds of Donatello sipping from the cup and the machine beeping to show his heartbeat. It was going a bit faster than normal—faster than before too, honestly. Y/n being around made him nervous, which he thought was a bit amusing.

Now that he figured out he enjoyed their company more than a normal person would, he was feeling strangely nervous. Did Y/n have feelings for him? Would they like him? He knew that they were his friend, though being in a relationship is different than being friends.

Y/n turns their head down to mess with their sleeves, then they sigh and look at him with a small frown on their face, and they ask. "Hey Donnie, that message you sent me before—was that when something went wrong? What happened?"

Everyone kept asking him questions that he didn't exactly want to answer, so he sighs out through his nose. It was, strangely, easier to do that than with his mouth.

How much did he want to tell Y/n? Lying in person was even harder than on the computer in voice! He taps his claw against the cup, pursing his lips, before he starts to talk. "I started to cough. It became worse than I first expected, and..." he shakes his head, looking away. "It doesn't matter."

Y/n seems to perk up at that and frowns, moving to rest their hands on his leg that was under the blanket, and they say a bit loudly. "Of course it matters! You're a really important person to me, and if you're hurt, then I want to help you the best that I can. How can you say that it doesn't matter?"

Donatello looks at them with wide eyes, his mouth opening slightly, then shuts it again and gulps. Aw man, there was that feeling again, and so much stronger than before. The sensation of something tickling the back of his throat was awful; he felt like gagging. "T..." he started to try to say, though he couldn't get the words out because the petals kept trying to push their way out. He stands up and holds up his hand in a silent way of saying he would be right back, and hurries over to the bathroom to throw up the petals into the toilet.

Gross.

Coughing like this was something that he should have gotten used to already. He's been coughing so much for 12 days now! But it was getting worse—even worse than just a few minutes ago.

Did he wait too long?

What was going to happen to him? It was strange; he never thought about dying like this before. I mean, sure, he’s thought about it, at any rate he knew that he was strong, so he could handle a lot. It is insane to think that flowers could kill him. The coughs made loud rings spread out in his head, as if there were bells swinging back and forth against each other. Yeah, there were.

Alarm bells!

Were they trying to tell him to stop being such a jerk and tell Y/n how he felt? I mean, the worst that could happen is that they reject him, and if they do that, then he could try to get the surgery or talk to Draxum about it.

The worst that could happen is that Y/n decides he is gross and tells him that they would rather die than date him, then never speaks to him again and even stops speaking to his brothers, which would upset them as well.

Would they blame him for it? No, he knew that his brothers wouldn’t, then again he would still feel strangely guilty.

At the very least, he was aware that Y/n would not do such a thing! If they didn’t return his feelings, they would tell him that, and they would probably go back to normal… at least, that’s what he hoped would happen. They go back to normal, Y/n is still his friend, and everything’s happy.

As he finally finished coughing up the petals and flowers, he looked down and reached up to rub at his throat. God, that is… that is a lot of blood. He heard knocking on the door that he hadn’t heard before because of how hard he had been coughing and convulsing because of the coughs. He turns his head to look at the door, trying to listen through the ringing that was trying to fill his head. Y/n’s voice was cutting through the wood of the door as they were speaking. “Donnie? Donnie, should I get Leo or the others?” Well, at least they didn’t try to open the door. He would have had to shut it so they wouldn’t see anything that they shouldn’t have.

With a breath that he regretted not even a second later, he moved the toilet seat down to hide the blood covered flowers floating in the gross water. “Come in.” his voice shook and crackled like an old TV, which made him groan on the inside.

There was no movement for a moment, then the door slowly creaked open, and Y/n looked at him, then frowned and walked over to crouch beside him. “Aw Donnie...” They reach out and start to gently rub their hands on his shell.

Look, normally, honestly, he wouldn’t let anyone touch his shell when he didn’t have his battleshell on, and he was already feeling bad. Despite everything he said, their hands were warm and soft, so he leaned into them, shutting his eyes.

“Should I go get Leo? I think you need the tube fixed.” They continue; nevertheless, he sighs and shakes his head. Right now, he knew that he needed to do this. 

Yes, Donatello said earlier that he didn’t want to confess because he wasn’t ready, nonetheless he had a feeling that if he didn’t do it now, he would end up getting too sick to do it.

This was it.

“Y/n.” he starts, and he feels them perk up, then hum to show that they heard him. He takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I... I have found that my feelings for you are less than friendly . Of course not in th...the bad way; more in the other. I have learned that I have a... a bit of a crush a-and-” he stops for a moment to catch his breath. “I would like to know if you, mayhaps, would share the feelings.” his eyes shoot up to look at them, then away, waiting for the response.

His heart was pounding, his cheeks flushed, and his body shaking a little. This was crazy, man.

…

……

………

“Years and years have passed since that day—when we learned what that disease was and how dangerous it could be. Now, it is always taught to children and teens of all ages to understand what the disease is, what the cause is, and how to fix it.” an older human was explaining to two younger humans who were sitting on the ground with their legs crossed. One was a boy, and one was a girl!

The boy was a boy known as Casey Jr.! Child of Cassandra and Raphael Hamato!

He was nodding along, holding his hands together in his lap with big eyes. He seemed very interested, while the girl was focusing on other things. Why? Well, because she was a lot younger.

The human laughed and snapped their fingers a few times to get the younger girl's attention, while Casey Jr. asked, "What happened after that?”

The question was about to be answered, though before they could, the human got scooped up in large arms, making them yelp. “They returned my feelings; we ended up getting married a few years later, and I created you two in my lab.” Donatello says, then nuzzles his snout against Y/n’s cheek. Y/n laughed, pushing on his cheek gently to try to get him to lean away while the girl squeals with enjoyment, holding out her little nubby arms. “Dada!”

“Hello to you too, Betto.” He walks closer and picks up the baby too, pecking a kiss on her chubby cheek, which causes her to giggle. She grabbed his visor from in front of his scarred eyes and put them over her own. Of course, Donatello allowed it, not minding too much. As long as she didn’t break it, he didn’t mind not being able to see for a little while.

“I thought that you were going to be taking longer to get home; that’s what I was told by Cass?” Y/n asks, and Donatello shakes his head. He then responded. “No, we finished early and told them that we were going to be home sooner; she most likely told you that so you would be surprised. How kind.” Yes, Y/n and Donatello got married a little while after they got together. It was a sweet moment for them, and Raphael cried.

They got closer, then the Krang appeared, and since then, they’ve stuck together through thick and thin. When Raphael came to Donatello, asking him to create a child for him and Cassandra, Donatello realized that hey, he could make one for himself and Y/n as well! And yes, that’s what he did! A little while after, of course. Taking care of one baby was more than enough.

He was excited for when the Krang were beaten to show Casey Jr. and Betto around and tell them even more stories. It would happen sooner or later, he was sure… and sure, Raphael wouldn’t be with them anymore, but Casey Jr. is here, and they were going to keep them both alive.

No matter what it took.

After all… they were the children of the apocalypse.

[explodingstarlight]

doodling teetles

And here are some close-ups (might put them on their own backgrounds one day, but it's 5 AM and I'm tired so):

[risestarkiss]

On His Own Terms

Rise Ramblings #2

In my post, “This Whole Situation,” I discuss how Donnie doesn’t see himself or his mutation as something that needs to be hidden away. He wears clothes when he's out and about, and that’s about it. However, as turtlemen in the middle of NYC, sometimes they need to actually wear disguises. So, what does Donnie do in those cases?

Old ladies? Well, that’s a choice. And the way Leo phrased the question is interesting as well.

“Why do you always make us dress up as old ladies.”

This means that every time it’s up to Donnie to choose the disguise, it’s not up for discussion. They’re going to be old ladies. Period.

But the most interesting part of this scene is Donatello's answer to Leo's question.

You would think that blending in would be the main goal, but no. Donnie’s main goal with his chosen disguise is: comfort. He’s not willing to sacrifice his own comfort just to make other people comfortable with his presence.

He’ll wear a disguise if he must, but only on his own terms.

And I’m happy that he can set his boundary and stick to it.

Never change, Donnie, never change…

○○○○

…Does anyone else see Leo’s old lady drip?! Where did he get those pearls from? Forget the pearls, where did he get the pantyhose? Did he style his own wig? How long did it take for him to put on his makeup? What color eyeshadow is that? Look at those lashes! Look at those bazongas! He put so much work into his fit, no wonder he received a compliment.

[tmntkiseki]

[vexahlla]

Donnie and Leo as twins, as the middle kids, both developing big egos to overcompensate for what they admire in the other and find lacking in themselves.

Donnie seeing Leo's charisma and natural talent for connection, and wondering why his own social skills are so different, and throwing himself into a more useful, tactile way to help the ones he loves, not realizing that his more straight forward outlook on things is needed in their very chaotic family. Doubles down on being the Smart Guy.

Leo seeing Donnie's smarts and completely disregarding his own because the role of "idea guy" is already filled. This is why he rarely communicates his plans, because he's not book smart (aka "donnie smart") so they don't count, they're just his own personal whims that he doesn't let anyone in on until stressed. To Leo, everyone on the team has something to contribute EXCEPT for him, something useful. Doubles down on being the Cool Guy.

Brotherly competition twisting in on itself because of self worth issues. They're both competitive, especially with each other, but I want to talk about Leo here for a bit. Once he has no control over the situation, it's "not a competition" because he can't stack up. Leo's the leader from the start in every universe but Rise, and in this one he's blind to even considering that's where he fits because of a low self image. He doesn't take things seriously because he doesn't take himself seriously, and this carries over to his leadership role at first because threats are low after he takes over until very suddenly they're not anymore.

[dude-just-why]

Promise next time I’ll work with markers instead of color pencil ☹️💕

[whattraintracks]

22. Puzzling - TMNT 2012

Don't worry, guys, that wasn't supposed to happen.

When the bit of Kraang tech he's examining (read: poking randomly in the hopes that something will happen) explodes, Donatello's not sure if he or Raphael shrieks louder. He thinks it's Raph. Which would be way funnier under different circumstances.

He blinks against sooty particulates. "Huh, well, that wasn't supposed to happen."

He's amid a cloud of unexpectedly thick, slightly pink smoke. Which is on-brand but frankly annoying. He waves at the air in a vain attempt to disperse it. Maybe he can move this operation to the kitchen, work under the exhaust hood. He should probably install one in here. He gives up flailing his arms, and backs away from the desk. Step one to solving any problem is getting some distance. Step two is—oh, that's weird. The cloud doesn't seem to have moved since the initial explosion. What kind of particles are these? He hasn't seen Kraang tech do this before.

The moment he remembers Raph is also the moment he trips over him. With a yelp, he hits the ground. Hard. Raph giggles. Rude. He's going to have at least two bruises tomorrow. And his scream was definitely louder than Raph's, so he's lost any right to make fun.

"Dude," Donnie groans, pushing to his feet. At least he's away from the Kraang smoke, "Why'd you trip me?"

"I don't know," comes the high-pitched reply, "Why're you so big?"

By the time his eyes clear, he's pretty sure it's a genuine question, not an insult about his height. It makes more sense once he looks down, down, down to find Raph miniaturised.

Donnie throws his hands to his head. "That wasn't supposed to happen, either!" Raph just giggles again.

"Leo!"

As far as they can tell, based on Raph's appearance and memories, he's about five. Donnie can't even remember being that young. Which he counts as a good thing because kids are weird. Or maybe that's just mutant turtle kids. He doesn't have experience with normal children to establish a baseline. Leo and Sensei do, though, and they seem unperturbed by Raph's behavior. Even Mikey takes the whole thing in stride. He is, in fact, absolutely thrilled and oscillates between gathering blackmail material and doing whatever Raph asks.

Donnie will admit he's having trouble making sense of it all. First, and he thinks he’s mentioned this, that was not supposed to happen. He can't figure out how a broken Kraang tech part without any detectable energy source could have caused something like this. Which naturally leads to the question of how he's meant to fix it. Raph has no idea what happened, either, so he's no help. Worse, he just might be the most confusing being Donnie has ever met. Take yesterday, for example.

He's not sure what time it is when he stumbles out of the lab for breakfast, so it might not technically be in the range of the day at which it is appropriate to call a meal breakfast. His brain is too full of viscous pink Kraang smoke to care. It must be some mealtime because everyone but Master Splinter is in the kitchen when he arrives. Leo is at the island supervising Raph and Mikey's mess-making by the stove.

Raph perks up, "Hey Donnie! I wanna tell you a question."

"Ask nicely, Raph," Leo reminds, hiding a smile behind the rim of his tea cup.

"Please, I wanna tell you a question." He barrels on, "How do you open your labrador?”

Open his what? Donnie stares at the space above Raph's head, trying to parse the question until a nudge from Leo resets his brain. "Say what?"

"Your labrador!" He flings his arms out, nearly knocking himself to the floor. Mikey catches the lip of his shell just in time.

“What Labrador? Raph, I don't have a—”

“Yeah, you do!” He's angry of a sudden. Of course, he is. But it's weird. It's not the first time Donnie's made him mad since the incident, but he's never gotten in anyone's face or stormed off with a huff. He just screeches until he gets whatever it is that he wants. It's Raph's anger, but it's not. “It’s how you get to the place you do all your smart stuff!"

Mikey swoops in, crouching to squeeze Raph gently, then translates, “He means the door to your lab, bro.”

“The door? Oh. Why would—?" Donnie sighs heavily, sinking into the stool next to Leo. “Raph, that’s the lab door,” he enunciates, “Not a Labrador. A Labrador is a dog breed."

Just like that, Raph's face unscrunches into something thoughtful. “So it’s not a labrador?”

Well, at least the exasperation is familiar. "I literally just said that. It’s a normal door.” Leo clicks at him warningly. Come on, what is he supposed to do here? Seriously, this feels surreal. Maybe this whole dialogue is a dream, and he's hunched over his desk right now. He straightens his shell to test for any worse-than-usual aching.

“Okay," Raph says. Then he turns around. Just like that. As if the entire conversation never happened. Never mind his original question or whatever he was trying to ask. He makes no sense, literally none at all.

But, you know what, fine. Donnie has to eat anyway so he can go back to the "place where he does all his smart stuff" or whatever. So he can figure out how to get his actual brother back, who at least makes sense most of the time.

Leo finishes his tea, returning Raph's enthusiastic wave goodbye, and then there are three. Mikey and Raph finally settle down to eat whatever noxious concoction they've whipped up as Donnie cleans his dishes. Freshly fed, his brain refills with extradimensional smoke and engineering.

"Well, that's boring!"

He fumbles with his mug at the sudden shout. A glance over his shoulder finds Raph, who had been eating quietly, now glaring at him.

“You should name that boring normal door Labrador so we can just call it that anyway," he says firmly.

He's not sure why he tries to ask, “Why would I—”

“Or or!" And it's like a switch again, anger suddenly dissipating. "We could name it something cooler! Like Thundoor from Crognard!”

“Thundarr,” He corrects. It's too late, Mikey's joins in.

“That’s awesome, little dude!" Mikey laughs buoyantly. "We should name all the furniture!”

“Yeah!”

And Donnie is so tired and so lost, and Raph is too much and too little of his brother at the same time it’s not even funny anymore. He doesn't think it ever was.

“Come one, Dee!" Mikey hoists Raph onto his shoulders, naturally content to ignore the messy kitchen. "Help Raphie and I name everything in the lair!”

Donnie tries to shake his head as Raph reaches for him. “Can you! Can you, please? Just for a little bit, please, Donnie, please?” Oh, now he recalls his manners.

"No, Raph." He bangs his mug onto the drying rack, ignoring Mikey's frown. "I don't have time for your nonsense questions and weird games. I'm trying to fix you."

It's not until he slams closed the lab door that the words trailing after his dramatic exit finally click. A puzzled sort of muttering from Raph: "Fix me? But I’m not broken."

So maybe he got a little too worked up, as tired as he was. But he's better now! He's eaten. He's slept five hours. He's determined to sit here until he cracks this thing.

And then someone bangs on the door.

He drops his head with a groan. How is he supposed to heroically solve all of their problems in these conditions? “Who is it, and what do you want," he shouts into the pages of his notebook.

"Once a second!"

One second, he mouths to himself. He listens to Raph struggle with the door for a lot of seconds and hopes he'll give up. He probably won't. Donnie better unlock it before he hurts himself. Or worse, starts screaming. Only because Leo would find some way to blame Donnie for it.

He shoves the door open, not at all irritated. Or vindicated either, when Raph falls on his shell and his sai skitter across the floor. Wait. “I thought Sensei took those out of your—Hey!”

Five-year-old Raph may not be much of a ninja but he is pretty slippery. He scrambles under Donnie's arm and launches into the rolling desk chair.

“Raphael." He glowers, summoning his inner Leo, "You are not allowed in the lab—”

“Without you,” he recites, spinning the chair so Donnie only catches glimpses of his cheeky smile. “But you’re here too! So it’s okay.”

It most definitely is not. Raph has no understanding of lab safety right now, so if Raph stays in here, then Donnie will have to keep an eye on him, and if Donnie has to watch Raph, then he can't focus on his work. He does not want Raph in here, and he says so.

“Donnie, I'll be so so so good. Please!” Oh, Mikey absolutely taught him how to do that with his eyes. Not cool, Mike.

“Raph," Donnie faux whines back. "I need to work. Go play with Leo or Mikey."

"Ugh," Raph flops onto his shell, letting his head and limbs hang. “But Sensei and Leo are medating, and Mikey’s with Red."

“Meditating," he corrects, "And I know you know her name is April.”

“Casey calls her Red.”

“Yeah, well, Casey’s a—” Raph looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. A promise on his face that anything Donnie says will be repeated. "It’s polite to call people by their name."

Raph hums, continuing to spin idly, “But I don't call you Donatello, I call you Donnie. And you call me Raph or sometimes Fai.”

Not a bad point. But what was that second thing? Fai? Oh. His brain retrieves fuzzy, forgotten memories. That's right. When they were both little, that had been his nickname for Raph. Just between the two of them. He can't remember when he stopped using it.

“Right," he says slowly. "But those are nicknames. They're a shorter version of your name.”

“Oh, okay.” Then Raph rolls out of the chair, clunking to the ground shell first, and wanders away to explore the lab.

Donnie retakes the seat, resigning himself to further interruptions. Part of his brain is devoted to thinking up better excuses in case this is one of those conversations Raph returns to without warning. The rest of his awareness is on Raph as he pokes and prods at books and equipment and even poor Timothy. It takes the better part of a half hour for him to realise he's still sitting at his desk not moving a muscle.

He growls, gripping his head. Raph is on him in an instant. "What's wrong? Can I help? Do you need a book? Do you want one of mine? I can get Leo! Or Sensei, or—"

"No," Donnie snaps.

He gapes as Raph's beak trembles and his eyes fill with tears. "You're crying. Why are you crying? Please stop crying." He slides to the floor next to Raph, "I'm sorry? It's just. I'm trying to focus! I need to fix you, but I don't—"

“I don’t want you to fix me!” He shouts, scrubbing his face and hiccupping. “I just want to play! Why won’t you play with me anymore?"

“Raph, I," Donnie looks down at his hands, "I don’t have time,” he finishes lamely.

“Yes, you do! You’re just being mean!” He runs out of the lab. Probably to someone who actually understands him. Someone who tries. Donnie wonders if he’ll ever stop messing things up for Raph.

Because as far as they can tell, this version of Raph went to bed one day, and the family he found upon waking was suddenly different. Of course, Raph is frustrated and confused and probably a little scared. He's not just normal Raph in a smaller body. Donnie might've realised that sooner if he'd spent more time with him instead of causing one mess after the other and then hiding from it all in his lab.

Donnie doesn't remember when he was five, but he's heard Sensei's stories about their childhood. The ones about his younger self hanging on Raph's every word. That one embarrassing retelling of the biggest fight Donnie ever caused by announcing Raph was his favorite brother. His father's memories of them doing everything together, at least until Donnie really got into science. So he steps out of the lab and locks it behind him. His brother, this brother, needs to come first.

He must look contrite enough that Leo only grills him a little before he points to Raph's room. After a single breath of indecision, he sits, shell against the door.

“Hey, Fai?” he starts, tugging at his fingers, “I’m really sorry. I have been pretty mean lately, haven’t I?” It takes a few moments, but a little thud echoes on the other side of the door.

Relieved, he continues, “I’m not as good at this as I used to be. I might need your help. But I’m out of my lab right now, and we can play whatever you want.”

Donnie hits the floor before he realises the door has swung open. Little Raph is looking down at him, eyes still watery but excited. "Really? Anything? Even Space Heroes!"

And Donnie almost can't believe it's that easy. He smiles with Raph's infectious joy. “Space Heroes? Who are you, Leo?”

Raph collapses into him with a laugh that banishes the rest of his tears as Donnie reaches out, tickling him just like he's seen their big brother do. He's still giggling when Donnie staggers to his feet. “Think I could use some bedding to build us the Dauntless?”

Raph cheers. Launching into an explanation of his favorite episodes and characters as he directs them around the lair to collect supplies. If this isn't blackmail material, Donnie doesn't know what is. Raph will never be able to deny that he likes Space Heroes ever again. Once Donnie figures out how to reverse this Kraang-smoke-induced de-aging that is.

He does still have to. They need Raph as he should be: their teammate, their protector, their equal. But if he were here in those roles right now, Donnie knows he would have heard a thousand times over that he needs to sleep, to eat, to take a break for at least five minutes, Don, come on.

So he'll try. He'll take breaks to hang out with his favorite brother. He'll get a lot of experience building sheet spaceships and pillow forts. And by the end of it all, Donnie will realise his little brother really does just want to play and ask silly questions that probably don’t seem so silly to him. He'll decide this little version of Raph isn't a puzzle of confusing emotions. He's the same pieces he's always been, unfiltered and untethered from all the pain and fear of their older selves.

And so, even after Raph returns to 16, whenever the thought creeps up on Donnie that he's not doing enough, that he needs to fix it. He'll lock his lab behind him and say, "Hey, Fai! Wanna play something?"

[tending-the-hearth]

turtle angst au headcanon time: bayverse donnie and rottmnt mikey are the family therapists

bayverse donnie has gotten bored multiple times hiding out in the lair and has no less than two degrees from online universities, one of them being in psychology, and he's become one of the main confidants of the 2012 boys, purely because he's able to talk them through things

same with rottmnt mikey, because he's just able to give them the tough love they sometimes need so that their thought process doesn't get overly self-destructive

[jinxy-minxy]

Chapter two is out!!

1005 words to be exact!

Please tell me what you think!! <3

[donnie-simp-lord]

Everyone count your fucking days for when I eventually write my jonatello WANDAVISION AU

In which Donnie was never the same after losing the love of his life just when they were both in their late 20s. Overcome with so much grief and desperation...and to some unknown higher being bestowed on Donatello, with his grief, he's pulled himself into a false sense of reality where Casey is alive, and the world is at peace, the people treated mutants equally, and with that, they could do the one thing they never got to do when Casey died.

Get married. Drive away to a town within this false reality that Donatello created with his grief. What happens when Casey starts to slowly become self aware that he isn't actually alive?

[canvas-madness-txc]

He's been my favorite for years

[angelmichelangelo]

can we just talk about how easily mikey is able to take on his brothers that are possessed and not holding back at all? he had some serious untapped potential in this show that was so wasted

[freedomaddict]

every time i finish a fic i think "no other fic can destroy me as much as this one"

BUT HAVE Y'ALL READ "Empathy Amplified"????????????

???????????????????????????

guys

i

the feels the emotions the pain the comfort oh my god ohmygod ohmygodohmygodohmygod i cannot. i cannot im gonna cry i cANT no fic has tore my heart so far apart and pieced it back up maybe its cuz im the therapist sibling who never allwos himself to feel emotions that aren't happy or WHAT but god damn that hit all the right angles

[carpdos]

Touch

Tmnt 2012. NO T-CEST. Brotherly love. Donnie centric. Fluff. Autistic Donnie.

Summary: If you weren't close to Donatello you might think he hates physical affection. But thats not quite true. He needs touch just as much as anyone else, he just has some specific requirements for it. Ones that his brothers have grown to understand.

It was safe to assume that most the time Donnie did not want to be touched. He would stand a few feet away from anyone else, moving away if they dared to get closer. He tries his best not to hurt people's feelings with it, but he Isn't the most subtle. It's not hard to know when Donnie doesn't want to be touched. Whats difficult is knowing when he does.

Every now and then Donnie does feel as you would call it "touch starved" but he doesn't really know how to initiate affection. Especially physical affection where he's set up so many boundaries. So usually when he is craving physical affection he'll simply suffer in silence, not knowing what else he could possibly do.

Luckily for him, he grew up with three turtles who've had their whole lives to figure out his silent language. Having only each other for company most of their lives ment the brothers we're of course very close. They would cuddle and play rough almost daily. So it was clear early on that they'd need to be able to tell when Donnie would be okay with being tackled to the ground, lest a real fight break out.

The brother who can best read Donnie is no surprise, Mikey. Mikey is the best at reading any of his brothers really. He knows that while He'll easily share his emotions out loud his brothers rarely will. He knows how to pick up on the subtle cues that Raphs about to blow up, or that Loes feeling sad. Or, in this case, that Donnie is feeling cuddly.

Mikey likes testing the waters, looking for clues that he's not even sure Donnie himself is aware of. Mikey will stand just a bit closer to him, usually the taller turtle will step away, but sometimes He'll keep his place. And on very rare occasion he may even lean against Mikey.

Mikey knows that Donnie will rarely invite a hug or tussle, anything outside a high three really. But on days when he notices Donnie initiating quite a few high threes he can guess what the nerd really wants a hug. And Mikey will give him one, with the excuse of him feeling lonely or wanting to hang out with the brainiac. Neither of which are completely lies.

Most of the time when Donnie seeks physical affection its Mikey to give it to him, but sometimes that isn't an option. The second most equiped turtle would be the fearless leader himself.

Leo is the closest brother to understanding Donnie's distaste for touch. Though he personally doesn't hate uninvited hugs he sees how Donnie might. Leo can sometimes feel completely touch apposed too, though its usually just when he's in a bad mood.

Leo isn't as tuned into Donnie's mannerisms as Mikey so he's a bit more risky when he tests the waters. Though he won't even try unless he suspects Donnie's in a somewhat touchy mood. Leo will pat Donnie's shell, or lean on his arm, a small bit of contact that he knows Donnie can easily get out of. If Donnie is in a particularly uncuddly mood he wont let Leo get close enough to to test his theory. So Leo is never too worried that he's pushing a boundary.

Most often Donnie will keep the contact for a few seconds before leaning out of it. This usually means he didn't hate it, but wasn't particularly craving it. At which point Leo will leave him be. Sometimes Donnie will stay though. In fact he'll seem almost scared to move whatever body part Leo is touching in fear that Leo will stop.

Leo always finds it a bit funny how awkward Donnie is about it, but will eventually offer a hug or cuddles which Donnie is always a little embarrassed to accept.

The remaining brother is the one to struggle a bit. Raph is always a bit overly careful when touching Donnie. In a friendly way at least. Raph doesn't really think of boundaries when he jumps on on his brothers for an angry tussle. But even then, Donnie is the one he fights with least. So when Raph does want to touch Donnie in a friendly way, he's a little lost. Thats not to say he's completely clueless. He still knows better than any stranger, but he's not all that confident in his Donnie reading abilities.

Friendly contact from Raph doesn't usually spell a hug, usually its play fighting, or a firm yet loving punch on the arm. Since he's physical Contact isn't exactly gentle, its especially important that he makes sure Donnie is in a touchy mood, so he doesn't accedently anger him.

This means Raph and Donnie have very limited physical contact. But Donnie has actually started to catch on a bit to when Raph is trying to initiate play with him. He knows Raph cant read him well, and he cant read Raph all that well either. So Donnie starts to drop more obvious hints when he feels like Raph might be trying to play with him.

Donnie will smile, even while rolling his eyes, he'll stand beside Raph, and sometimes he may even be the one to playfully punch Raph's arm. It's a rare sight, and Mikey and Leo have a untold truce to walk away if they see it happen since affection between the two most emotionally constipated brothers is so hard to come by.

Donnie sometimes is willing to push his hate of touch aside if he feels his brothers really need some physical comfort, but usually he has other methods to help. but he makes sure to show affection in other ways to make up for the limited hugs and cuddling. Weather it be giving his brothers gifts, trying to talk them out of their funk, or just being in the same room with them. He knows they all try their best to respect his boundaries and he loves them for it.

(This is my first Fic! Feel free to make a request on something for me to write! I will NOT write T-Cest or Apritello/Leorai)

[blackbunnyblobchara]

Good?

“Your a good sniper”

You complimented without knowing,without even a remote reason why you had to,but shrugged it off as you eyed his shots and at him.

He tilts his head to your direction,yellow acid eyes boring light holes in the side of your turned head like a skeptic response,the only thing you got to know he was still paying attention to you.

“I know”It was blank and dry,an even answer that left no conversation left as he eyed his sniper scope again,didn’t even readjusted his position to get a perfect shot again.Which made you shiver.

As you watch with tentative eyes,you began your observation,and you seem to take a double back on your word.The way he looks at the narrow scope with cold eyes,a look that makes you both shiver and heat up.The way his posture stays still but relaxed,muscle bulge and flex.The way his position doesn’t even change even if he takes shot towards the paper target,over and over and over again,no change no falter.The way he barely flinched from the forcing kick of the gun,like it was nothing more but a slight tap in his skin.The way his aim always stays perfect,shot after shot is always a perfect hit in the bullseye to the point you can’t even see the black dot. The way his hands move gracefully to take another magazine and slid it in,only taking a mere five seconds. The way it was so precisely moved and calculated and executed that it was like an equation to him,just another thing that just proves how insanely smart (Einstein-level-maybe-even-more-kind-of-level) he is.

All of that,it makes you rethink the very four words you just said.

He wasn’t just a good sniper

No

He’s a damn calculated beast with a gun in its claws

[mccoyquialisms]

I’m aware of what Word of God says regarding Donnie and Leo’s ages, but I have decided to remain a Donnie is Older truther for a couple of reasons:

One, I like the idea of steering away from birth order when it comes to appointing the leader. Leo being chosen as leader, not because he’s ~next in line~, but because he’s actually good at it and having that be recognized explicitly! I love that concept! I think having Donnie be Technically Older really reaffirms that. Also, there’s no WAY Leo wouldn’t constantly use Technically Being Older against Donnie. There’s just no way, he’d be so insufferable about it lmao.

Two, the potentially DEVASTATING implications this has for the Bad Timeline. Like yeah, I’m aware that on a meta level Mikey and Leo had to be in the movie for plot reasons, ergo Raph and Donnie had to be dead but HEAR ME OUT

I saw the movie before watching the show and somehow it really sealed it in my brain that Oh Yeah Donnie’s Older. I don’t really know how to phrase this, but the fact that Donnie, not the frontline bruisers like Mikey or April or hell, Todd was the next to die after Raph has me thinking there must have been a VERY compelling reason for him to be in the line of fire like that. and from what I initially saw in the film, Donnie was at his most reckless when trying to protect his little brother (using only his body to shield Mikey from a TRAIN???) which...the implied series of events lord.

Like POV you are Donatello Hamato. You are 20-something years old and the world has ended. You’ve become the de facto head of your clan since your big brother was killed in your defense. Your younger brother is leading an entire resistance and your baby brother is basically turning into Yoda. They are not coping well. Neither are you, but Raph, the rock you all built your lives on, is gone so someone’s gotta step up, might as well be you. You don’t really know how to do that, but hey, you’re the biggest brother now, right? The brother who is biggest? Even if all else fails, if there’s one thing you know, one thing you learned from watching Raph all those years, it’s that big brothers protect their little brothers, no matter the cost. So you do.