#this just in Donatello is a MENACE

[halogalopaghost]

While the turtles are staying with April in season one, she has a somewhat hard time keeping food in the fridge. Four mutant turtle teens are no joke as far as appetite is concerned, and the novelty of having 100% new and fresh foods in the fridge at all times is not lost on them. They have to be encouraged a couple times to help themselves, and when they finally do it's like an apocalypse on her fridge.

She also enjoys introducing them to new things during this time. She brings home one of those TUBS of pillsbury cookie dough to make them fresh chocolate chip cookies. Before they're in the oven, Mikey finds her and she lets him have some of the dough.

And then Donnie comes into the kitchen and freezes when he sees them. He looks at the dough. He looks at Mikey. He looks at April.

"Did you let Mikey have chocolate?"

April looks at him. Looks at Mikey. "...Yes?"

Don FREAKS out and smacks the spoon out of Mikey's hand. "We can't have chocolate, we're severely allergic!"

April PANICS. "What?? I didn't know, I'm so sorry!"

"What do you mean you didn't know?" Don asks, clutching his baby brother to his chest like he's about to perish. Mikey looks confused. "You wouldn't give chocolate to a dog, would you?"

April's freaking out escalates. Dogs aren't supposed to have chocolate! She knows that much. "What do I do? Should we—uh—go to the ER?"

"Are you insane?" Don has Mikey practically in a headlock and Mikey is—crying? Choking? "We need a VET, April!"

Splinter, whose dad-sense is tingling so hard that his fur is standing on end, enters the kitchen ominously. "Boys. I hope you're behaving and being kind to our host."

April is like, five seconds away from just dying of sheer embarrassment and worry. She looks at Splinter with huge eyes, about to admit she's POISONED his son, and then Don dissolves into giggles.

She stares at him, open mouthed in shock. He releases Mikey, who as it turns out, is also giggling. The chokehold was doing little to suppress it. Splinter puts his head in his hand.

"I'm just kidding April. We eat chocolate just fine."

She has to take another long moment to process the shock and calm her heart down. Don's laughing so hard he's tearing up.

April has never had little siblings before. She used to wonder what it would be like, and there was a time in her life where she had even wanted a little brother or sister to tease and love.

She did not know the true nature of little siblings. Which is evil, naturally.

She chases Don out of the kitchen with the biggest wooden spoon she has, and Splinter HOPES she catches him.

[lemonandtheart]

Donnie got a little too carried away with his experiment...

[lotus-duckies]

and uhhhhh lavender menace donnie edits

[kinun]

Leo's portals have so much potential

(I posted this on tiktok to the "doggo on roofo" sound yesterday btw)

[dancingdonatello]

ello,, Can i see a donnie x reader where reader has some (concerning) self worth issues 💀

basically a fic where reader gets badly injured trying to save donnie, and when they wake up Donnie’s like “bro why would you do that” and reader is like “donnie, you have an actual life ahead of you. you’re great, you, you are everything! but i, i am nothing. I’m useless, and I’m no worth to you guys. but you’re so amazing-“ and Donnie’s just watching like 😨

donatello x gn reader

Waking up to angry dark brown eyes boring into yours was honestly pretty scary.

But having a sharp pain travel through your body when you jolted in shock was even scarier.

“Ow—What?” You melted onto the soft bed you were on, confused. You looked around, finding yourself in Donnie’s bed. There was a white towel under you, stained with blood but protecting his sheets from it. “Huh?”

“Sorry I couldn’t take you to a hospital,” he said dryly, “I don’t think they’d take too kindly to see a giant turtle drop off a half alive human.”

He seemed angry. You shrank back into the mattress, staring at him warily.

What could have happened to make him this mad? You thought quickly, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“Um…”

And then you remembered.

Oh. That was why. You shrunk further into the mattres, even going as far as to grab a pillow to shield yourself from him. He ripped it out of your grasp and threw it behind him.

You grabbed another. He threw it again. This happened one more time before you ran out of pillows.

“Well? Anything to say for yourself?” He crossed his arms and you winced.

“Look—” You tried to sit up but he pushed you back down onto your back.

“Don’t. Lay there.”

Even when you nodded meekly, his hand didn’t leave you. Instead, it travelled to your arm and held it.

“Now. Explain yourself.”

“Well… I mean, if you were… taken down, then who would fight? I’m not a good fighter. But since I took your place, you could still fight!”

“But you got hurt.” His shoulders tensed. You could hear his foot tapping the ground.

“I would’ve got hurt if you got hurt, too. I’d be next after they got done with you. It was the right thing to do.”

“You could’ve ran.”

You sighed. “Don, think of it logically…”

His eyes flashed. “I don’t think logically when it comes to you.” His hold tightened on you before he let go of you and folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t think logically when it comes to you.”

You stared at him, a little bit in awe, as he looked off to the side as the skin on his face darkened.

You slowly opened your arms and he grabbed you again, pressing himself into every spot of yours that didn’t hurt. “Don’t you ever do that again!” he growled into your ear, but it didn’t sound as menacing as before. Especially with how he kissed you afterwards. Softy.

[oozedninjas]

Blame the Chemicals in the Mind

Summary: Mad scientist!Donnie discovers he has developed twisted, unwanted feelings toward his best experimentation specimen.

A/N: General verses, but I placed something about each version of Donnie, let's see if you can find it! Also, I heavily kept in mind 2012verse and Bayverse for some reason? Anyway, this will have multiple parts but it can be read as a one-chapter thing too :)

Please do not spam like. Reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Warnings: NSFW / DARK CONTENT/ smut/fem!Reader/ after the kraang apocalypse/Donatello and reader are both mid to late twenties /dub-con/eventual Yandere topics/experimentation/torture/blood and violence/trauma bonding/Stockholm syndrome/blood extraction/panic attack (reader's)/twisted hurt-comfort/between-the-lines humiliation/ mentions of the use of a feeding probe/sensorial overstimulation and deprivation/ Regarding smut: humping/creampie/DUB-CON/ dead dove do not eat

This is 18+ dark content. If you click on keep reading you have agreed you want to read this content.

His ever-present gaze penetrated the tank's glass, fixating on your orbs. It was a constant company, greeting you upon waking— whether immersed in the computer's screen a few paces ahead or absorbed in a stress ball he kept in hand to stimulate his thoughts. He consistently stared, as if that alone could propel him closer to a cure for the three monstrous things that so closely resembled him. 

Donatello observed them through the fortified cells he constructed, initially intended as a security measure. He sighed deeply. The laboratory never felt as desolate as it did now, as if hopelessness swept through, resonating through his body. Gradually, despair eroded small fragments of his sanity, leaving nothing more than a faint echo of who he used to be.

He needed to find a cure soon. And so he pinched, tugged, injected, and inflicted upon your body a distinct form of torment every day. Each one an inch closer. However, despite your best judgment, you lacked the strength to keep on resenting him.

Exhausted from enduring numerous stings and side effects, your brain, perhaps as a survival mechanism, clung to words of reaffirmation. Praise. Approbation. Plaudits. They seemed to breathe sanity back into your inner self, preventing your poor state of mind from sinking deeper into the dark.

Such an exquisite test subject!

So remarkably compliant and subdued, aren't you?

I'll create an antidote, and they'll be back, and it'll be thanks to you.

You seem unwell today.

His voice was distant from under the water but he sounded somehow concerned. "Let's take the day off. You can't die just yet. Finding others like you is proving increasingly challenging."

You didn't want him to ignore you for the rest of the day. You wished he wouldn't. You could endure a slight pinch if it meant feeling something. Lately, the increasing sensory isolation was becoming more and more nerve-wracking. You must have wished too fervently, for just as he had not entirely turned away, the power abruptly ran out.

Donatello gasped. The blue light of your tank framed his face. A menace, yet fixable. The hitch: replacing the lab's battery required using the one in your tank. Both were designed with separate energies after an incident— an unfortunate electrocution during a short-circuit caused by an electric storm. Test subject 83q1q didn’t make it.

The wisest course of action was to empty the tank, replace the battery, and secure you elsewhere until he could find a new one. Your body throbbed with tickles of anxiety and anticipation upon noticing his intent.

As it drained, you descended to the bottom of it. He opened its side, causing all the tubes to tilt down. Donatello pulled them off. You inhaled as soon as he unplugged them from your throat. A coughing fit almost broke your rib cage right after a sharp, reckless gasp for air.

An overwhelming sensation hovered over you. Abruptly, everything was too much. Too much air, too rough floor, too much pressure on your skull, too loud— You can't breathe. You're choking. Your ears are beeping. Someone's screaming. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can’t— He's touching you. You tensed. Would he return you to the tank? Where's the needle? The last time he touched you, there was a needle, or something sharp, and it hurt. You brace yourself. 

Donatello began making even circles over your bare back.

"Deep breaths," he said. His voice sounded different. Steadier, warmer. "Follow my own, here," he pressed your hand to his plastron. His inhalations were even, soothing.

"That's right, you're doing well—maintain your focus right here."

Your view briefly smeared your palm over his chest before properly adjusting. Your head pulsed as if your skull rejected your brain. Your mind was a jumble of many things barely held together. But you’re breathing, you’re alive, nothing hurts.

"Well done. Now, tell me five things about yourself," he asked.

The piercing cold scraped your bones like long-stirred claws. Nothing hurts, not quite much.

"My name is Donatello,” he began to set an example. “I am a scientist. I aim to fix the Kraang predicament. I like purple,” he paused, realizing there was nothing more about him worth mentioning. Then, against logical reasoning, he added: “I miss my brothers.”

Squatting, embracing your naked, soaked silhouette in a failed attempt to stop shivering, you listened; forcing yourself to clutch onto his voice, scarcely discerning his words but making the effort. On the verge of giving up on obtaining an answer, Donatello motioned back. Your nails dug into his plastron just then. He tensed.

“My name is—” your voice quivered, mind spinning, searching. You told him. “Chest… hurts. Head, hurts. I’m cold.” Your weakling tone disturbed you, hoarse, broken, reduced to a raspy mutter. “I’m… alone.”

You were unexpectedly a jarring mirror he reflected in. Donatello tilted his head, musing.

"Well done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he articulated, displacing your hand. "Now come here, you ought to wait inside the cell until the battery is efficiently substituted and operational—I still need to find another to power the tank, though.” he added between his teeth, more to himself than to you. “Anyway, be glad, you'll rest," he finished, offering you a towel.

You took it, hesitantly. Soft, cold fingers brushing with rough, calloused ones. Donatello retracted his hand upon the brief contact. For half a second, he seemed misplaced. Something shifted thereafter. As if the lab’s loneliness somehow extinguished just by having another breath residing there. As days elapsed, he worked diligently to replace the burnt pieces and connect the battery. This task, which would have taken only a few hours with all the needed resources, was now hindered by the aftermath of the world nearly ending. 

You braced yourself every time he approached your space, yet, pain never came with him. Instead, there was something, something more, something close to a kindle glimpse of a strange fascination. Donatello couldn't grasp why, but he started bringing you food instead of using the feeding probe.

“I help bring them back,” you said one fine day, after long contemplating the scattered photographs of four turtles attired in different colors, enjoying life before the apocalypse.

The sound of the welder stopped, as did the sparks that created different patterns of light around. He looked at you, understanding that it was not a reiteration of your role; it was an express wish, a genuine interest, as if you actually had a saying on the matter. It was, in a way, touching.

“Yes, you will,” he paused briefly, contemplating for the first time going slightly out of his way to give you something. But what? Perhaps something to wear? No, keeping you naked meant you wouldn't dare to set foot outside. It had to be something else, something more.

Donatello pondered for half a heartbeat before pulling the protective lenses up.  “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how cold would you rate your cell?”

***

The day came when he finished fixing the lights. The sudden brightness forced a hiss out of you, too sharp. He adjusted it, toning it down to a level you could bare. He found an extra battery as well, which meant you would return to the tank. You would hurt again, but it’s fine; he gave you purpose. He fed and warmed you, and listened to you. He gave you gentle head pats— 

He’s good. 

He doesn’t care if he hurts you.

It’s alright. He gave you purpose. 

He doesn’t care if you cry.

He keeps you warm.

Donatello took some blood samples, followed by platelets, in between a couple more tests. You felt dizzy jumping off the chair, narrowly holding on to the edge of the table so as not to slam against the floor. The tank light loomed over you. Bit by bit, you gestured towards the two-meter cylindrical vessel, your heart rate suddenly plummeting. The dreadful prospect of sensory deprivation gnawed at your insides. Your breaths became erratic, resonating loudly in your ears, and the sensation of blood swirling in the pit of your stomach heightened. You won't feel, you won't eat, you will hurt. You can't breathe. You gasp for air. It’s alright, it’s alright-

"I was thinking..." Donatello's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere, and you clung to the sound as if it were a lifeline. "Since you've behaved— what if I don't send you back in the tank? What if you stay here a bit longer?"

You turned, your eyes widening in astonishment. 

"Would you like that?" he asked, not facing you, an awkwardness in his demeanor, as if it were the first time in his life he had asked for company.

"Yes," you gasped.

***

You couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but it didn't matter. You lay on his lap, resting as he worked, your body bare, absorbing the warmth of the room he had carefully heated for you. You cherished the rare moments he allowed you this close to him, savoring the seconds of feeling human once again through simple acts like cuddling. It made the aching in your body subside a smidgen.

The embrace elicited subtle signs of contentment, slowly fading into gasps, later morphing into moaning. His breath hitched upon hearing them. Donatello wasn't the best at navigating feelings. But these sensations were not exactly that. They couldn’t be. No, it was more like a palpitation triggering a primal response to your scent, your warmth, and the gentle quiver in your voice.

He scoffed. Deep thought on the matter didn’t change that his cock throbbed with each breath rolling off your mouth. He tried to shake the heat of his head, but why? Why should he resist? There was no purpose for not indulging. In fact, it could be beneficial.

He let his hand travel across your back. His touch made you shudder. He puffed, a nerdy sound he hadn’t heard himself make since the first time he watched a porn video. 

“Come,” he said, tugging you to sit upright.

You raised your head from the crook on his neck to face him. “To the operating room?”

“No, just here,” he muttered.

Donatello adjusted you over the lower half of his plastron before reclining the chair back. Your nude pussy pressed upon its wetness. He groaned. Warm fingertips clung to the upper sides of his shell, seeking balance. He stroked your hair. You waited. Nothing hurt.

Donatello placed both hands over your love handles, moving you back and forth so your cunt rubbed over his needy slit. It throbbed, his hard cock soon to emerge from it. He whimpered, breath hitching when you followed his lead, hypnotized by the exquisite friction over your clit. A few more humps and it came out, pulling a deep growl from him. You looked in astonishment as it rose against your abdomen. tick, long and glistening in a creamy transparent liquid. Your inner thighs soon soaked in it. Nothing hurts, no…, in fact- it’s good. Fuck, so good. You sighed, unable to stop grinding over his newly released member, absolutely thriving in the delicious way it numbed everything into bliss. 

Donatello’s head fell backward. His mouth curved slightly at the corners in a somewhat twisted smile of enjoyment. His earnest, soft moaning mingled with yours feverishly. 

“That’s so hot— I want more, I want to be in you, I know you’re so warm inside,” his voice was desperate, drunken-like. 

In one motion, Donatello pulled you up. Your back hit the cold desk. You sensed the keyboard under your head. It hurt. You snap back, eyes open wide. He grabbed your waist. Six strong fingers kept you in place as he lined with you. You puff, suddenly tensing.

"You want it too, right? In theory, it should feel good. You're too wet for it not to, don't worry, you've been good. It won't hurt." 

The question lingered. You don't know. You don't want to hurt. Would he be angry if you forced him to stop? Could you do that? Would he put you back in the tank? You're dizzy. 

He moved the tip of his cock along your soaked cunt, focusing on your soft nub, making circles over it. Your legs opened wider in response. His voice quivered as he whimpered, yours followed. You clenched around nothing. 

"You're not saying no, are you?" he panted. "So I assume you must want to, right?" 

Your hole stretches with his size sliding in. You groan, dragging your nails over the desk. 

"Ah— it hurts! It hurts!" you blurt out. 

"Bear it. The ache isn't supposed to- last too long. It'll feel good once you get used to it. You're good, you can bear it, you ca-nm,"

His body steamed, and his mind burnt with it, slowly melting the last drops of rational thinking. "You're so tight," he thrust once, twice, and thrice. 

You reached for him, clinging to his quivering voice, his praise, his— fuck he's so deep in you. his pace knocks your breath out. It hurts. It fills you so well. It hurts. Feels hot. His moves are steady, building heat in your belly. Pain's giving out. You clench around him, sucking him deeper. 

Donatello jerked forward, mouth gaping, eyes shutting. Both forearms held him up over the desk. He was now close enough for you to embrace him, so you clamped one hand to his shell and the other to his shoulder. Both legs hugged him near. With each new thrust your clit rubbed to his plastron sending waves of volts through your veins. 

"Yes," you breathed, barely above your own moaning.

Donatello grinned, "I knew you liked it,”

“Yeah—ah, faster, harder,” you pleaded, head thrown back as he fucked you.

He granted. Making his pace even crueler. His content smile never faded. 

“Your little cunt loves this so much! I can feel you squeezing me so tight, fuck, such a good testing subject, about to be my favorite cumdump.” 

Your muscles tensed in anticipation, the heat in your core about to burst. The sound of wet skin slapping reached your ears as your toes curled. 

His breath staggered as he spoke. "Ah- I can't stop. I'm coming, fuck, yes, yes-mnn," 

The hot loads filled you all the way to your womb. You embraced him, his ragged breath right in your ear. He enjoyed it, you did good, all feels right, more, more— You came with a loud moan, sweet pulsations carried the bliss from your belly through your temples, melting you.

He stayed still for a while, holding you in his arms, absorbing the warmth from your body. You both descended from the high together. Your scent mingled with his own, and for a fleeting moment, something tingled within him—the creeping onset of a feeling. He scoffed. It meant nothing. What are feelings if not chemicals in the mind, fueling instincts? 

"Go clean yourself up," he instructed, letting off your legs. "We still have some tests for the day."

[captainofthedauntless]

When Life Gives You Lemons

Rise Donatello x Reader imagine

Info + Warnings: Reader's at the Lair to help Mikey in the kitchen. Mikey's caught up in something else. Donatello gives Reader a way to pass the time. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. Vague not-friends to might-be-friends with feelings. Set a few years post movie.

Commentary: He's much harder to write for than a certain blue menace. IDK if this even sounds like him.

It's easy to think Donatello doesn't care.

Well... that's not true. You've seen him unveil his latest and greatest inventions- he cares so much it's impressive.

But it is easy to think he's extremely (impressively) neutral on you.

It's a kind of intense neutral that you haven't seen anywhere else.

He's polite. Or his version of polite, anyway. It's not like he avoids you, he just is neutral in a way that somehow pulls on your attention.

You can't explain how or why.

You're just aware of it the same way you're aware of his family's fondness for you. His near-apathy has the same volume as Leo's jokes and Raph's warm support and Mikey's excited integration of you into their schedules.

You call it Hamato Intensity, in the privacy of your own mind, the way they all are. It's shapeless and beyond definition, and you really shouldn't think too hard on it because it simply is the way that gravity just is, but you almost can't help yourself.

They just have a presence.

Maybe it has something to do with that Ninpō thing Mikey and April tried to explain to you. It's like magic, but it's not magic, but it's kinda magic? But then Donnie had cut in to explain that it was absolutely not magic and he had a whole PowerPoint and everything got very derailed very very quickly.

You were more confused at the end than you were when the conversation had started.

So you try not to think about it too much. You get that they're glowy and dangerous, and it has something to do with ancestral connections, and you think April's haunted, and that's just going to have to be enough.

It's a lot like how you don't quite get Donnie.

You're pretty sure he doesn't dislike you. Over the few months you've known the family, you've seen him dislike several people, and it is always extremely clear. It's sharp and hazardous and can be a little (lot) intimidating- and he's never been like that with you. He's just dry. A little reserved.

The weird part is that it isn't really... awkward?

Like, it should be. It so should be. Right now, with you sitting at their kitchen table waiting for Mikey to get home so you can help him with his latest culinary adventure (per his request) and Donnie silently brewing coffee and typing away at his gauntlet, it should be awkward.

It isn't.

It's comfortable, in a strange way.

The realization is a surprise- one only trumped by the surprise of him speaking.

He says your name in way of greeting, and your head whips around like he'd screamed.

"Yeah?" You say, confused.

You think it might be the first time he's said it to you.

He stares at you for a beat like he's studying you, just long enough for you to start to feel out of place. "Still waiting for Michael, I presume?"

"Yeah," You repeat, no less confused. More confused, you think. "He's grabbing ingredients. Apparently Leo ate the end of something and Mike's making him portal them around to replace it," You explain (over explain? You can't tell) with a fond amusement. "Said they couldn't find it at the first place they tried, so they're making extra stops."

Something dings on his wrist, and he drops his eyes to type something into his gauntlet again. "Excellent," He says neutrally, still typing. "That leaves you free to assist me."

You blink at him, confusion growing. Again.

He seems to notice, his hand stilling on his keyboard for an almost imperceptible moment. "If... you are not otherwise occupied, obviously."

"Um, no. Nah, I'm free," You respond, finding your footing again and deciding that much stranger things have happened, really. "What's up?"

"I require an extra set of hands in the lab, to hold a circuit board in place while neither crushing nor breaking it, which- despite his best efforts and gentle demeanor- makes Raphael a less-than-ideal candidate," He explains, his typing hand coming up to twirl once in midair in a very Donnie motion of simultaneous acknowledgment and dismissal.

It occurs to you that this is the same lab that may-or-may-not have some sort of nuke tucked away in it, depending on who you listen to.

The thought is brushed away by the realization that your curiosity outweighs your caution (again).

You slip out of your chair, nodding at him. "Sounds... uncharacteristically simple," You say, testing the waters with a gentle joke at his expense.

It seems to pay off as he nods. "I assure you, the end goal is extremely characteristic," He says, and it takes you a second to realize he's- it's not joking, but it has a self-aware, playful edge to it. It's subtle, but it's there, and it catches you off-guard as two robotic arms reach out and pour a mug of coffee without him looking.

"Then lead the way."

He turns without a word, retracting one metal arm as the other brings the mug to his hands before disappearing into his shell.

You follow him to his lab, hesitating just outside as he slips right back into his element.

You've been in the lab before, but it's rare, and usually with the company of his entire family. Here, you have no cues to follow.

He glances back at you and raises a brow.

"Do I... need to take off my shoes or anything?" You ask over the synth and bass filling the room, only half joking. It feels like walking into an operating room, like you need to sterilize your entire being before you breathe on any of the impressive technology.

"No," He says simply, turning back to his workbench, "The floor is cleaned bi-daily by SHELLDON. Bi-daily, in this case, being twice-per-day- not every other."

You nod at his back. Of course it is.

You walk towards him, not quite able to resist the urge to look around. You settle for keeping it subtle.

"Here," He says, pulling your attention from an organized mess of cables and metal hanging on the wall like technologically-advanced macrame. "Hold this over here, at roughly a 59.6 degree angle."

Taking the circuit board- a foot square and heavier than you expect- you nod again, trying not to laugh as you step to his side and lift it up to rest against yet another unintelligible pile of technology. "Right. 59.6 degrees."

"Roughly," He amends, the start of a smile visible in your peripheral. He reaches out- into your space- and nudges the board into a sharper tilt, presumably finding that approximate angle for you as his metal arms grab things from the tool chest behind him.

"Like this?" You ask, trying to hold still as he pulls away.

Oddly, you almost miss his space in your own.

"Roughly," He repeats dryly.

That's alright. You aren't striving for perfection.

Roughly is fine.

You feel compelled to strive for perfection.

You swallow the urge.

He's back, hands full of drill and screws and metal hands holding more metal pieces that you can't quite see around his battle shell as he crouches slightly to look at the underside of the board in your hands.

"Slide it to the left- your left, not mine."

You nudge it gently.

"More."

You nudge it again.

"More- too much, back the other way."

You cock a brow at him- or more accurately, at his red-and-blue goggles, which show you your own reflection. You can't see his eyes, but he must see you, because he mimics your expression.

You nudge it back the other way.

"Adequate," He says in something close to approval.

It's nicer to hear than it probably should be.

"This will be an unpleasant sound. It will jostle the board. If it slides out of alignment, we'll have to reset you."

"Alright."

He's correct- as per usual. It's a very unpleasant sound, metal on metal combined with the whir of the drill, followed by clanging as his battle arms hand him extra pieces and parts.

He ends up entirely beneath the metal monstrosity, supported by the two metal arms as he leans back to look up at the machine's underbelly.

You end up in a long-abandoned rolling chair. You tell yourself it's just because Mikey isn't home yet.

Eventually, Donatello calls your name.

"Yeah?"

"Four-point-five millimeter hex key."

You glance over at the little work table he'd rolled over earlier, and spot a tray of neatly organized hex keys. A closer look reveals perfectly placed labels.

One reads 4.5, so you slip it out of its slot and roll forwards to pass it to him.

"Thank you."

You hum a little acknowledgment, and kick your chair back slightly.

"-and for some insane reason, he decided to catapult himself-" You wave an arm out in emphasis, mid-story as Donnie meticulously wires together the plates you had installed, and a third metal arm darts out to gently catch your wrist.

You stop speaking, and you stare at each other.

"Hotplate," He says after a beat.

You glance over your shoulder, and your hand is being held just shy of a metal platform on the desk behind you. There's a little red light on the front, and a bright purple sign plastered neatly below it, warning Hot. Do Not Touch. Do Not Use As Microwave.

"Thanks," You says softly. You can feel heat wafting off it now, enough to give you the impression that had he not interceded, you'd be nursing a nasty burn.

He hums and retracts the hand, tucking it neatly into his battleshell. "You were reminding me of Nardo's foolhardy ways?" He prompts, attention already returning to the project in front of him.

Eventually, you hear Mikey holler from outside the lab, calling you.

"I guess that's my cue," You say.

Donatello does not look up. "Agreed. I appreciate your assistance."

"Any time," You say casually.

As you turn to leave, you're absolutely dumbfounded to realize you actually mean it.

You've enjoyed your stint as his lab assistant.

"How was the lab?" Mikey asks, a little too playful for your tastes.

"Hazardous," You quip dryly, replaying the hotplate incident. "No wonder he's so protective of it."

You miss Mikey's response, mentally counting metal hands.

Donatello's battleshell has more than two.

You're pretty sure you've seen him with five before.

...So why did he need help?

"Hello?" Mikey asks gently, an innocent- too innocent- smile on his face.

"Sorry, flashbacks to my near-death experience." It's not quite a lie.

He doesn't quite buy it.

"I said if he asks you to test fit a helmet, say no," Mikey repeats.

You nod slowly. "Speaking from experience?"

"Don't worry about it," He chirps, slipping an apron over his head. "Speaking of experiences, are you ready for Angelo's All-You-Can-Beat Eggstravaganza?"

"Absolutely," You grin, happy for the change of subject.

And excited for lemon bars.

Win-win.

"You're telling me-"

"Nardo, don't-"

"I teleported all over New York and the Hidden City-"

"You are in the way-"

"So that you could get your wrenches passed to you?" Leo exclaims, the picture of incredulity as he stands between Donnie and the equipment you'd helped with. "That was your grand plan?"

"I had no grand plan," Donnie responds, stubbornly sidestepping his twin. "Michelangelo had a grand plan. I was a victim, dear brother, same as you."

"Oh, of course, of course," He says, hands coming up in dramatic surrender. "Because spending time with someone you have the hots for-"

Donnie taps at his gauntlet, turning his music up over his brother while sliding back beneath his newest baby.

"-Is exactly the same as stopping in thirteen stores-" Leo continues louder, undeterred- "for a niche lemon species you eventually start to think Mikey made up!"

"And did he?"

"He might as well have, for how deep into Witch Town we ended up!"

Donatello rolls his eyes sharply, adjusting bolts above himself.

They don't need adjusting.

"If you don't come out to try their lemon bars- and sing their fucking praises- I will come in here and haul you out myself," Leonardo proclaims, ducking into Donnie's space. Persistent, unyielding, obstinate. "And I will tell everyone- everyone, you heard me- about last month and the rollerskates-"

"You are a monster."

"And I will do so in detail," Leo finishes, a smug grin on his face.

Donnie glares at him.

"We're not kids anymore, hermano," He says matter-of-factly. "You've taken on supervillains, aliens, ancient mystic entities, and all of NASA's cybersecurity-"

"Allegedly."

"-You can handle a direct conversation without hiding behind your tech."

Donatello does not respond.

Leo pats the metal chassis they're hunched beneath in lieu of touching Donatello himself and takes his leave.

The kitchen is loud when you and Mikey present a tray of perfectly sliced, perfectly proportioned lemon bars, each presented in an adorable white paper liner and covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar.

It's loud and happy and sounds like love, and you find yourself marveling at that Hamato Intensity again as Raph and Casey bicker about the wrestling match they both watched the night before and Casey Jr excitedly asks Mikey all about the bars and April and Leo and Splinter sneak in closer to the tray, only freezing when Mikey fixes them with a dangerous glare over Junior's shoulder.

It's a lot. They're a lot.

It smells like citrus and sugar and coffee.

The coffee reminds you of the smell of steel, which reminds you of the clanging of metal, which reminds you of whirring drills and gentle nudges and self-assured sass from beneath a machine you still don't understand.

And then you're jolted from the surprisingly warm memory by Mikey sliding a lemon bar just under your nose, happily saying something about chef privileges, and the bars taste every bit as good as they smell and he's grinning broadly and your heart feels warm all over again at the happy sounds from the group you love so much.

Metal claws dip into your vision, dangling your keys in front of your face like a worm in front of a fish. "Missing something?" Donatello asks dryly, quietly, from behind you.

"Where were these?" You ask, cupping your hands beneath them and catching as the metal claw releases.

"Workbench," He says simply, his claw- and another- darting forwards and grabbing two bars by their liners. He drops one in your hands and takes the other, tucking his metal extensions away. "How did these turn out?"

"Why don't you try it and find out?"

"I like to know what I'm getting into."

"I'm biased," You shoot back, your voices similarly amused. "As a man of science, you recognize the issue here, no?"

"Touché." He takes a bite, chewing slowly, thoughtfully.

"...So?"

"It appears you are more-than-adequate in the kitchen as well," He says, and it feels like a compliment.

It feels like a big one.

You nod, playfully smug. "I'm happy to hear it."

You are.

The realization makes you feel a little brave. "If you find yourself needing an assistant again..."

"I'd have to be able to steal you away from Mikey."

"I think he can share."

"In that case," Donnie says, amusement in his voice as he speaks beneath the noise of his family, just to you, "I will keep you in mind."

It doesn't sound half bad, really.

[yanteetle]

Could I request Donatello taking extreme measures to makes sure his love doesn't run away from him?

oh poor y/n, captured at the very last second.. they were so close to freedom too! It’s a shame Donnie had been working on another oozequito trap and finally found the perfect test subject...

Thank you for the patience! I took waay too long for this cuz I stayed up until 2am finishing this. Aside from that, I struggled quite abit with the perspective but I think it came out decent enough to show his more menacing and condescending side - I always did imagine Donnie to be a very cruel yandere after all. When I recalled the bug trapper in the show, I couldn’t help myself but repurpose it for this! Donnie stepping on the bug trap is just the cherry on top of it all, I personally think it fits, knowing how maniacal he can be :) Overall, I had fun with this and I hope you enjoy this treat! I have a couple more Donnie drawings to get done, but after that I’ll finally draw Yan!Raph! (He’s my favourite I love him) so please expect more content soon! I hope my little tangent about this piece wasn’t too annoying, I just love gushing about what I draw sometimes :)

-yanteetle

[allyheart707]

Are you still taking art prompts?

I had an idea! It would be fun to see a little crossover between your fic and your comic!

Ex: Due to some cosmic glitch, Leo connects with LS Donnie instead of EDHPMW (tricky acronym lol) Donnie. Confusion ensues.

Leo: Where's Donnie..?

LS Donnie: I'll do you one better, WHO is Donnie?

Anyway, no pressure. Love to see your updates!

- Later, in a different universe -

Donatello. It was a name that felt as if it had been stuck on the tip of his tongue the second Carol had brought up naming them. He wasn’t sure why it felt so right, or where the warm feeling came from- like a dream long forgotten, but it was the perfect name. Raph, the snapping turtle, had insisted that he was their brother and this name was the second piece of evidence that pointed towards that possibility. The first one, of course, was him being a mutant turtle. 

He still wasn’t sure he could trust the two strangers- especially the other one… Heishi. He had been nothing but a menace since he arrived. It seemed he was trying to get them in trouble. Currently, the slider was desperately trying to convince his brother- Michelangelo- to further break their bed. 

“If we pull this part off here I bet I could use it to make a weapon! Now that would be a distraction!” He pushed Mikey, who looked to his brother for the answers. 

Donnie shook his head- that would almost certainly get them in way more trouble than it was worth. Plus, they just wanted to go outside, not to hurt anyone. Mikey frowned, but turned back to Heishi and shook his head.

“Nu-uh, mm sorry, but they would get really mad if we broke our bed.” Mikey answered, making Heishi groan.

“Hmmm, welllll… what if I promise to show you all my cool warrior moves?” Donnie knew exactly how this would turn out, and groaned as his brother let out an excited squeal.

“REALLY?” He gasped, and Heishi gave him a big grin.

It did not take much to break his little brother, who thought on the new deal for only a second before giving in and nodding.

“Okay! But only if you do it on my bro’s bed- er… Dee’s bed! He likes his bed cuz the cameras can’t see it!” He whispered the last part as he pointed to the bottom bunk where Donatello currently sat, staring at the both of them in disappointment.

“You're going to get us all in trouble, you know.” He offered, but Heishi was already yanking on the middle rung to their bunk, attempting to pull it from the bed.

“Yeah! An’ what if they put those handcuffs on you again?! Or worse?” Raph added, making Donnie nod- at least someone had some sense.

Of course, his brother and Heishi were not listening- both now on his bed, pulling against the rung until there was a resounding C R A C K and they both tumbled backwards- the wooden rung now in their hands. Ugh.

“AH-HA! Now this is a plan!” Heishi shouted triumphantly, holding up the splintered remains of their bunk as if it was something spectacular.

Donnie turned and flopped against his pillow- refusing to see the end of this. ‘Will they fix our bunk?’ He wasn’t sure. When the light broke a few weeks ago- they fixed that but… him and his brother have never broken anything on purpose before. ‘They took away our books… would they take away their papers next? Or their bunk? That is what they broke so what if-’ Donnie shook his head, burrowing it further into his pillow- 

‘no, Carol wouldn’t let them take their bunk. Plus, how would they fit it through the door? It wouldn’t fit!’

‘... wait… how did it get into the room? … was it always here?’ Donnie lost himself to his thoughts as he watched the large snapping turtle pace back and forth at the door and attempted to ignore the delighted chattering between his brother and Heishi.

“Master Draxum says I'm too ‘small and weak’ for big weapons… but he does let me use a wooden sword sometimes! I’m really good with it too!” His words were followed by whooshing sounds and Donnie's bed bobbing up and down with each thrust of Heishi’s “sword”- making Mikey gasp in excitement. Even Raph seemed to be a little impressed, stopping his pacing to watch, big eyes wide in a mixture of nervousness and awe. That only fueled the fire in Heishi. Ughhhh. Curiosity got the best of Donnie and he finally decided to turn his head to watch the ‘greatest warrior’ swing his ‘sword’ around.

He couldn’t stand on the bed without hitting his head, so instead he was moving around on his knees- despite that rather awkward position, he was keeping himself upright which was already a little impressive. He moved with surprising speed, twisting his arms and slashing the sword about as if fighting some imaginary enemy. Every time Donnie thought he would hit the wall or one of the bedposts he would pull away just in time and begin another set of random exercises. 

It was… a little … cool.

Then, as Donnie tried his best to cool his expressions and Heishi swung upwards for what looked like a finishing blow, that the sword exploded in blue light. Heishi screamed, throwing the sword and hitting his shell against the wall as they all stared wide eyed at the bright blue that danced over the sharp wooden stick.

-Meanwhile-

-To Be Continued- (??? If people are interested.)

I thought it would be fun that, for the crossover, they switched media! My comic being written, and my fic being in comic format! :DD

I was so nervous to post this and kinda went blind re-reading it over and over again soooo there are probably grammar/spelling errors I missed. Sorry about that- I might go through and edit them later?

[ghostytoad]

* Fun n' Games *

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Leo-esque reader who enjoys drama, making jokes, and being overall awesome

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for the smug, but genuine, fun-loving reader despite their egocentric habits

Headcanons for: Mikey

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff || Words: 1.8k

Raph | Donnie | Leo | Bonus!!

Mikey:

this boy will not hesitate to call dibs on being y/n's best friend the moment they meet; not only are they super cool and confident, they're pretty funny too!

he genuinely admires everything about y/n, from their charismatic and funny nature to the way they seem to keep their cool under pressure

mikey likes to refer to them as the "color bomb of our family portrait" (whatever that means) and will insist they are the splash of color the group's been missing this whole time

nicknames!! he will literally call y/n everything under the sun as a show of affection; some of his favorites include "leo 2.0" and "rainbow"

mikey will take every chance he gets to cling onto y/n like a koala bear or use them as his personal lap pillow; he is the most physically affectionate of the brothers, so expect lots of tackle hugs and cuddles too

insists that it's completely platonic though! cuddling doesn't always have to be romantic or just for couples or anything! if he's not holding onto y/n's hand, he's at the very least hovering in their space at all times

he just happens to enjoy how warm y/n is and they don't seem too bothered by the touching so it just makes sense that y/n is the first one mikey calls when he's in major need of hugs

y/n has a big ego, but mikey doesn't exactly help that fact with his endless praise and compliments; it's like he has stars in his eyes every time he sees them do anything mildly exciting. if anything, y/n is TOO HUMBLE in his eyes

he constantly brags to his brothers about how great y/n is (and how lame the boys are compared to them) to the point where it's painfully obvious to evevryone how lovestruck he is; every conversation somehow loops back to y/n and if no one's around for him to gush about them to? he'll just channel that affection into his art!

every time he invents a new dish, y/n is the first person to taste test his new creation. and if they say they like it? he will make it his new specialty dish for the next few weeks. y/n gets to name it too! a special privilege for only the greatest of greats in his eyes

every time y/n comes over to the lair, he immediately stops whatever he's doing to greet them and show them around like it's their first time ever being in the lair. it's basically a tradition at this point.

no joke, he will literally take them on a tour of the place like it's a new bachelor pad or something

"welcome to our humble little abode~ please feel free to relax on any of our luxury beanbags or "sacco" as the italians call it! to our left, we have the most advanced in genius technology, created by our very own donatello hamato!" "mikey, this is the third time this week they've been here. please for the love of plato, get out of my lab and let me work."

it's also just a fun little way for him to show off his new art without looking too braggy and he can't pass up a chance to pester his brothers; truly a silly little menace

if he's drawing, he usually has y/n pose for his practice sketches; they're just so photogenic and fun to draw, the perfect muse! and they don't complain as much as leo does when he has to model for mikey

he also keeps a special sketchbook meant just for y/n and him; they hand off the sketchbook back and forth every other week to fill with sketches and doodles of anything and everything. mikey thinks it's the purest form of bonding and gives every one of his doodles some meaning that ties back to y/n

the one-liners aren't exactly his style, but he still finds y/n to be incredibly funny, especially when it comes to their pranks. he will not hesitate to join in on their latest scheme (he's terrible at keeping secrets tho so they don't always work out)

is genuinely considering starting an improv troupe or a comedy duo with y/n; he thinks they could make it big if they just had the right venue! or maybe they could start their own cooking vlog together?

"c'mon, just one open mic nite! i promise it'll be fun and you're gonna kill it on stage! and i'll be front row cheering you on!"

y/n has their own little spot in the projector room right by mikey for movie nights; complete with a secret snack stash he's hidden in their beanbag for the two of them to share (he will eat most of it tho if y/n doesn't stop him)

he's not too keen on the idea of dragging them along on dangerous missions, but he will not hesitate to take them for a trip to the hidden city. after all, what better way to introduce y/n to yokai/mutant culture and the untamed world of mysticism than by exploring the mystic metropolis itself?

takes y/n to all of his favorite restaurants and parks when they're out, he enjoys being able to share his safe space(s) with someone special to him! and of course, he wants y/n to have fun too so he won't say no to visiting some of their favorite places!

unlike donnie and leo, mikey's pretty good at keeping y/n's more impulsive nature in check; he might be the wild card, but he's also very aware of the fact that Y/N is a human and as such, should be handled with care! (ironically, he gets upset when raph does the same to him)

don't get him wrong, he doesn't baby y/n, no no. he is simply trying to be a caring, considerate, and responsible friend. he's sure y/n can handle themselves, but the yokai world is new to them! mikey just wants to take it slow is all!

it's not until papa splinter decides to bring up the dreaded topic of grandchildren that mikey is confronted with his own feelings

"All I know is that you boys are only getting older and with each passing day, my hope for grandchildren is getting smaller and smaller."

"DAD, WE AREN'T EVEN ADULTS YET! At least give us a chance to vote for the first time before you start yapping on about kids!"

"It is not the timing I am worried about. It is the sheer lack of game you three seem to have with the ladies. You have to BE a player to start the game." Splinter muttered the last part as if he were talking to himself. A bewildered trio of turtles sat before him in their usual "begging circle" before his favorite chair, unsure of how this conversation went so wrong. All they wanted to do was borrow their dad's iconic Lou Jitsu suit. And he was lecturing them about romance and grandchildren?!

Y/N and Mikey had no idea just what they were walking into when they sauntered into the projector room together, bags of snacks in hand for another movie marathon. Splinter let out a fond chuckle as Y/N greeted the rat with a bright smile and a wave.

"You see, I do not worry about Orange. Clearly he is the only one to receive my dashing looks and irresistable charm! How else would he have caught Y/N's sleek eye?" The old man threw a wink Mikey's way as the turtle stopped in his tracks to glance back and forth between his brothers and father.

"What… did I just walk in on?" his confusion translated into a sharp grimace, the corner of his frown quivering.

"Dad here's bugging us about dating." Leo couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Wha- I thought he was gettin' on our case about grandkids or somethin'?"

"No, no. He was clearly implying that we have no social, relationship, or emotional skills to speak of and therefore have no chance at prospective mates with which we might eventually settle down with and have offspring of our own." Donnie's pout was apparent as he recapped the conversation, unsure if what his father said was a positive or negative sentiment.

Mikey and Y/N exchanged equally horrified glances, dropping the bags of goodies.

"WH-WHAT?!" they cried out in unison.

Y/N could barely get a breath in between their screeching tirade of 'NO NO NO' and Michelangelo's "STOP STOP STOP", both of them making a show of flailing about in humiliation and shaking their heads. Y/N and Mikey? Settling down?! KIDS??!!

"I feel as though I may have missed something…" Splinter watched the spectacle of shame with a quirked brow, stroking his greying beard and shrugging to himself.

The young mutant stopped his panic long enough grab Y/N by the shoulders and sharply turn them to face Splinter, pointing his finger into their cheek as if he were presenting them.

"DAD, WE are FRIENDS. FRIENDS! FFFRIEEEENDSS!" he hissed between clenched teeth, motioning between himself and the human that stood beside him. Behind him, his brothers quietly chuckled and snorted amongst themselves, but he chose to ignore them as he continued.

"WE are NOT getting married any time soon!" he gave Y/N a gentle pat on the shoulder and shot them a soft smile, "No offense."

"N-No, none taken!" Y/N nodded, eyes still wide with shock.

"WE are NOT having kids ANYTIME SOON!" With each word, Mikey's face loomed closer to his father, the man's amused grin unwavering.

"And if anything, I sincerely doubt someone as amazing, sweet, and funny as Y/N would ever wanna have kids with someone like me considering THIS whole situation!"

His hands waved over his body frantically to refer to his mutant form, oblivious to the now-offended scoff Y/N gave.

"Y/N and I were just here to-"

"You don't think I'd be with someone like you just because you're a mutant?" Y/N couldn't keep their irritation from seething off of them as their arms crossed tightly on their chest and their foot tapped impatiently against the cold floor. They were not happy. Mikey shrunk in on himself at the display and waited for them to continue, the entire room now listening intently.

"I'm sorry, is it just me or did you drink a big ol' mug of DENSE juice?" Their finger aggressively poked against the young turtle's plastron, "I happen to LIKE everything about your 'whole situation' and I happen to think YOU are just as amazing and funny, Michelangelo Hamato!" Despite the sincerity of their words, each syllable was spat from their downturned lips as their glare became fatal with angst. Neither of them paid any mind to the others, mouths gaping and eyes rounded with surprise. The box turtle's green cheeks burned a dark red at their words, his heart pounding wildly against his chest and his muscles tense with excitement.

"Does… does this mean I can hold your hand now? Like romantically...?" he squeaked, barely able to contain his glee. Y/N sheepishly nodded as they took his hand in theirs and pulled him into a gentle embrace. From behind him, a chorus of groans and sighs sounded from his brothers. All he could think of now was that Y/N liked him back. Maybe even loved him. Not even his brothers could ruin a perfect moment like this.

[milkartonn]

GUYS HOLY SHIT DONNIE WON THE WHEEL OF DOOM/!/1/!?

(Tap for better quality)

Can’t wait for him to get absolutely trounced in the finals this is great.

Just a quick thing I whipped up in celebration of Donnie’s win, so glad he ended up getting to participate in the finals lmao this is a win for every autistic person ever. Please ignore the horrible cropping of the tbh creature at the top i. Didn’t want to draw the whole thing💔 Anyway keep your peepers open and alert for when @autismswagsummit holds the finals!! Pretty sure they’ll be up for a week so that’s nice. Uh stick around i might be able to pump out one more piece of propaganda art before my midterms (emphasis on might)

*cough. @autismswagreblogs

Photo ID under the cut as per usual

[Photo ID: The drawing is of Donatello from ROTTMNT, taking a menacing stance with one hand holding his tech bō. He is standing in front of a purple and cyan fire, with the Wheel of Doom from autism summit 2023 in the fire’s centre. The other contestants on the Wheel of Doom are all grey and barely distinguishable. End ID]

[enb-y]

↬ ROTTMNT BOYS FINDING OUT THAT READER OWNS A KITTEN

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles.

request: ❝ hello, can i request headcanons where the rise turtles react to the reader having a pet kitten? platonic or romantic, i don't mind, and gender neutral pronouns please ^^ ❞ — anonymous.

warnings: mentions of ticks, deworming, ringworm, fleas, mild swearing, unedited. could be read as platonic or romantic.

characters: raphael, leonardo, donatello, michelangelo.

writers note: cats, my all time favorite menace. I actually have one— well, that felon is my sisters, but I take care of her like she’s my damn cat. (sigh, I miss my cat 😔)

readers pronouns are not mentioned nor included.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆RAPHAEL.

✶ raphael, the one who adores animals of all creatures. although, some of them don’t even like him half the time. most likely do to fear, or simply he’s not their kind of guy. raph is quite the scary and intimidating guy, yet he’s a major softy inside that scary shell. so, the first thing he does is try to smother the kitten, okay not too literally. however, in a more mature manner, he does try to help you with the kitten, especially if you just got it.

✶ raph will help you bathe the kitten if you find it off the streets. he highly recommends you to take it to the vet to see if it has any major issues, and he’ll definitely help you find the siblings and mother, that’s only if it’s not abandoned.

✶ he's really gentle with the kitten, especially knowing his size and strength. the kitten is smaller than his damn hands. he loves animals, he thinks he’s some kind of animal whisperer, snow white headass. let’s not forget to de-flea it, he will not help you pluck you out the ticks. he’s afraid of doing something wrong and the bug's head getting stuck inside the poor animal's skin.

✶ he’s fine with helping you remove the flea’s from its fur and putting medicine on it, but he will never pluck goddamn ticks from it. he does not fuck with them. and knowing that they also suck on anything that has blood? he’s good, he’ll have nightmares though.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆LEONARDO.

✶ leonardo thinks kittens are cute. but he’ll only like them if they feel the same way about him. he’ll most likely back off if he sees or hears a cat hissing. he does not fuck with grumpy ass felines, sure they’re cute, but he does not care. leo likes kittens and he would like to have one, yet he can’t, because all the kittens and cats that he and brother brought home all tried to have their dad as their meal. which, of course, got them gradually kicked out of the sewers.

✶ leonardo definitely tries to help you with your animal, especially if it’s a stray. he’s had his fair shares of beef with stray animals and he’s won every single battle. (no he didn’t, he ran away.) he highly recommends you to get the animal checked for any worms and other issues that it may have. not only that, he’s cautions and he doesn’t want you nor himself catching ringworm.

✶ he probably steals cat food for you, since he can’t be seen by humans and all that junk. but if you’ve bought the kitten from someone, he’s definitely smothering the kitten. he’ll think of it as his child, the single child that he’s always wanted. leo likes animals, to a certain extent, and he’s aware of the responsibility of taking care of an animal, especially a kitten.

✶ leo is more than willing to help you out with it, just ring him up and he’s there in a flash, literally. leonardo thinks that cats are cute and fluffy. he likes their purring and how they swipe toys around with their paws.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆DONATELLO.

✶ honestly, I see donatello as a cat person. he likes their independence and quietness. although he’s aware of how loud they can get and would literally knock just about anything off your desk. but other than that, he likes cats. when he heard that you had just gotten a kitten. he wants to immediately know if that kitten is healthy and to see a vet if it’s a stray. it isn’t surprising that he’s awfully gentle with said kitten.

✶ he’s there with you when you’re picking it up and he wants to hold it the moment you get it, because he said so. this guy absolutely loves cats, he thinks they’re cutest shits on the planet.

✶ he tells you which brand of food is good for the kitten and what litter you should use and what type of litter box you should also get for it.. which some of them are quite expensive. not too worry, he’ll find a way to get you those nice things for your little kitten who will grow up to be spoiled.

✶ he gets toys for the kitten and would love it if the kitten laid on his lap as he pets it. the only thing he doesn’t like is shedding, he doesn’t like things sticking to his clothes that he decides to wear during that day.

*◌ೃ࿔ ┆MICHELANGELO.

✶ he’s also someone who loves animals. he watches enough videos about animals and non-domesticated cats, which he does not like watching all the time, for good reasons too. he literally would help you take care of it, because he wants to and he likes to spend time with the little kitten. he doesn’t care where you gotten it from he just thinks it’s cute to watch over, especially since it’s small and playful.

✶ he’s definitely been scratched and bitten by it. he forgave it because it’s just a baby and they almost always acted out during those ages. if it’s a baby where it still needs a bottle and it’s been abandoned or the mother isn’t around anymore, he’ll take care of it for you if you can’t do it on those days when you’re busy.

✶ he doesn’t really care too much about the shedding that cats do, he keeps those sticky rollers around to take off the fur before he returns home from spending time with you and the kitten.

✶ this guy squealed when he saw the kitten laying on its bed. his first instinct was to hold it. mikey loves animals, so whatever you bring home, he’s the first one, other than his brother raph to hold it and pet it, because he said so. he also adopted it along with you and helps you with feeding and treatments, that’s only if the little one has any, and bought it treats and whatnot.

end - I finally did it. I’ve finally finished this. this has been sitting in the drafts for, not too long, I think. but I’m just glad to have this done, but I’m sorry you had to wait a while for me to finish this. it’s 5:23am so ima try to go to sleep, gm everyone.

[tmnt-tychou]

For your ask game, can I be really basic and please ask for my favourite turtle Donatello? X)

Looks like we all basic bitches for Donnie. Let's get to it. This one I want to emphasize that this is just my opinion. If you rate Donnie's differently that I do, we can still totally be friends.

A Tier:

2003 Donnie: He is just *chef kiss*. He is such a good Donatello. Speak softly and carry a big stick. No Fear Only Science. Mr. Steal Yo Girl. Cute face, capable of unspeakable horrors. Love him. Original TMNT 90's movie: (I feel like all three moves gave us different Donnies, so I'll be ranking them separately.) Love this Donnie. Mouthy skateboarder, wisecracking fighter. Puts up with Casey's shit and gives it back.

Secret of the Ooze Donnie: Loved the different voice actor. Soft spoken, hopeful, curious.

Rise Donnie: Loved this new direction his character took. Hard core menace to both enemies and family. Weird, enthusiastic, funny. He is always a joy to watch. B Tier:

80's Cartoon Donnie: Makes wacky shit. Has a good sense of humor. Is always part of the shenanigans.

Bayverse Donnie: Soft spoken, but fearless. (Except that first time he had to fight guns.) Tall boi, cute as hell. Next Mutation Donnie: Certified Turtle-fied. Played by the great Jason Grey Stanford, great casting choice. His arguments with Venus about magic vs tech is in character and he's a fine, solid Donnie.

IDW: Typical Donnie. Solid. He actually gets some story arcs. C Tier: Turtles in Time Donnie: When they got Corey Feldman back to play him in the third 90's movie, I feel like they promised him a certain amount of lines or something. But the lines weren't great. He's a little too mouthy where it feels off for the character. Many of his lines should have gone to some of the others. Or not at all.

D Tier: 2012 Donnie: This one might get me the most hate. Once again, this is just my opinion. If this Donnie is your fave that is COMPLETELY okay with me. I adore his character design, but I feel like the writing did him dirty. He is the reason Leo began creeping up as my favorite turtle. Not a fan of the voice acting choice. Not a fan of a lot of choices that were made for this character. Though honestly, I haven't seen the show since it aired. Maybe if I watch it again I may change my mind. Mutant Mayhem Donnie: Look, he is cute as hell but...where's his shtick? He likes anime? That's his whole thing? I hope we see more of the brainiac side of him in the cartoon.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 52

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

He's supposed to be dunking on someone else, but I feel like we're all affected by this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Mikey had been texting you non-stop.

No matter how innocuous it was, it troubled you just how flagrant you were being. In the week since the first, you hadn’t had a single flare up. There should have been anger. There was a rage that should have been parboiled like his damn chains on your skin. Instead, you’d simply stared when you’d received the first message after having just arrived at work. The surprised exclamation about Donnie also liking cooking had only given you pause. It wasn’t even a white flag. It was a blob on an otherwise empty message board. A single blip that you could pocket and forget; it was the second text that caused you to respond.

It was an image of Splinter screaming with a hand up as he tried to fend off the phone.

With only a few words and an image, you put it all together. The aging starlet had continued his streak of being the worst communicator. Based on the fact that Splinter was in his favorite chair, you set the scene of Mikey spending time with his father. Maybe catching up as adults with busy lives did, Splinter, many months after the fact, would have tossed an off-the-cuff comment about how you’d told him Donnie cooked, for better or worse. Mikey then incensed by the claim, rushed for confirmation and, against his father’s wishes, took a photo to validate his utterance.

The strange understanding of someone you barely knew had you crafting a response.

You: He went through an intense science related phase is all.

That single watering was enough to grow a field.

What followed that day was Mikey info dumping about some chef who dabbled in the same. He went on and on about how said man made cooking easy before outpouring an explanation of the years long hiatus between parts of his show. There had been a cookbook made in the interim that seemed to solidify network choices and you were soon on the receiving more pictures, now of Mikey with his signed copy.

Then another, where a starry eyed Mikey who maybe looked a few years younger was photographed with the man you could now attach a face to.

You’d meant to leave it.

In all the time he’d been sharing this story, you hadn’t responded once.

From his end, all he received were read receipts and yet he kept going.

Each time you took a break there was a new rolling number of messages and you caught up on them like reading the paper.

Sipping tea to warm yourself in the late afternoon, you were at the very least entertained. Part of you clung steadfast to the brick he’d tried to hit you with, but there was a disconnect from that menace and this voice. He was now a newsletter to be read at your leisure and you imagined this would be the last. A single blip on the radar that was Michelangelo, you’d have one better memory of him to hold onto.

Going back for your last work stretch until clock out, you wondered how that chef had reacted when he found out about his mutant devotee. You imagined he’d accepted Mikey’s looks then he’d probably followed it up with some guilt about animals and autonomy. Thinking of cow mutants and their stand to eat more chicken, you were soon off and gave your phone a final once over before heading out.

Your preview message wished you a nice night and you read backwards to catch up.

Mikey: Alright!

Mikey: That’s enough of that!

Mikey: Thank you for tuning into DJ Dr Delicate Touch CPAs radio hour

Mikey: We hope you had a good time listeners

Mikey: Okay wait who even listens to the radio anymore?

Mikey: I gotta do this like a podcast and thank my sponsor

Mikey: ShipStation, it’s better than the post office probably

Mikey: Fr tho

Mikey: Thanks for your time

Mikey: Have a nice night! 😁

Odd.

It was strange.

Putting your phone away, you should have been mad.

No matter how much you tried you couldn’t summon it.

The entire trip home, you tried to think about what you were missing.

The best you could come up with was that his words of leaving you be during the kidnapping had been ones you used more than once in your daily life. A level statement from one with otherwise untethered shoulders, it spoke of some kind of maturity. Besides Leo, the other two each had it in their own flavors. Mikey’s made the least sense as he flittered like a confused butterfly, while Raph seemed like the only one with a touch of reality.

You shouldn’t indulge this.

It was in reaching for your door knob that you were struck with an odd thought.

You weren’t.

Why worry?

Feeling like you had wasted your ride home, you left your concerns at the door as you stepped into the space with your partner.

A pleasant evening followed and the next day arrived without a similar hitch.

The following morning rolled out in a relaxed state that found you at your desk. It was sometime around 10am that you got another message.

Mikey: You ever wonder why eggs don’t taste like chicken?

Stupid.

That had been your first thought.

Of course they didn’t; they were embryos, but a second thought had you typing.

You: If you can’t taste then how do you know that’s still true?

It was mean.

You couldn’t even convince yourself that you hadn’t mean it that way.

Part of you did.

Part of you also felt like shit for poking fun at an obvious disability.

What did you even know about it?

You knew he couldn’t smell cum on you like his brothers.

That had to correlate with taste and yet you were the tasteless one.

It’d show him, you decided.

There had to be a barrier.

You weren’t familial.

You weren’t friends.

You were whatever you had with Leo at best.

Two photos thrown into the ether and an open line in case of emergencies.

The silence said you’d put the matter to bed.

Your phone should do the same.

You had work.

Moving to set your device down, you spied a percolation of bubbles before a giant image spawned.

Raising your phone on sheer instinct, you stared down at a meme.

An image of a turtle with its mouth open as if it had just been burdened with the reality of its existence.

Mind blown.

Mikey: TREE FALLS IN THE FOREST WHO!?

Mikey: THATS SO GOOD

Mikey: IM THROWING THAT BACK IN LEOS FACE RN

Mikey: REACTION IN COMING

Mikey: HERE WE GO

Mikey: HES EATING GOLDEN GRAHAMS GOT HIM

Your lips parted as you stared.

Mikey: aw man wtf 😩

Mikey: It didn’t land!!! 😩😩😩

Mikey: I did wait like an hour before responding

Mikey: He said it first btw

Mikey: Credit where its due

Mikey: Though wait hold up

Mikey: I take it back

Mikey: He totally got it from a video

Mikey: OH I KNOW

Mikey: Give me another! Hurry!

Scrambling for an unknown reason, you started to type out one before erasing it in exchange for another.

You: Does a straw have one hole or two?

You stared at the blank screen with an odd impatience until again there was a snap of bubbles and several images jockeyed for screen time.

They were a series of different images all conveying that his mind was blown.

Then another bout of silence.

Your cubicle felt way too large.

You were a tiny speck amongst moveable walls.

Mikey: GOT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

A series of party gifs appeared in rapid escalation.

Mikey: He stuttered and everything

Mikey: Leo: one- no two… wait…?

Mikey: THE LOOK ON HIS FACE

Mikey: I’m running now btw

Mikey: He’s totally chasing me

Mikey: Dropped his cereal!

Mikey: LOSER IN THE BATTLE OF THE MINDS

An image of a chef loading penne into a gun had you slamming your phone down.

Hand over your mouth, you tried to contain your laughter until you stumbled away.

Far from the too big walls of your office and into the bathroom where you released your giggles.

You could see it.

You could see Leo turning to brotherly rage after being beaten by a quip from his younger brother.

The playful nature of chasing after him, bowl in hand.

Then the fateful spill where Mikey left him to clean up the mess.

Sputtering and washing your hands only to feel the cool water, you attempted to reign yourself in when you felt a similar bubble and pop as Mikey’s messages gave.

You’d mistakenly activated something.

Something you’d be stuck with. 

It was too late in a non-lethal sense.

That something was a week of near non-stop messages from the orange turtle.

Or rather the Ornate Box variety, which was one of many things you’d mistakenly waded into knowing about the man.

He had an awe inspiring bit of knowledge from over a dozen fields, though he wasn’t an expert in any of them.

He had ADHD which he spoke of as some shitty roommate he was forced to deal with.

He had over a thousand reaction images all sorted by mood.

More than one of which he’d created and you realized you were vaguely aware of them as they’d gone viral.

He had no idea anyone else used his pictures.

He both had a huge and non-existent social media presence.

A handful of accounts with millions of followers, he was a ghost of a bygone era that some people still whispered about.

He had completely forgotten. 

He’d logged off one day after deciding that it wasn’t good for his health and never looked back.

He didn’t even seem to have realized he had that number of followers in the first place.

He was authentically him.

That made him dangerous.

You understood now why younger Donnie had shunned him. Someone that open was terrifying. His power was too great for one single soul to hold, even with his faults. Those came mostly in the form of his attention span which made you almost wonder if he was struck with his attention disorder if only to restrain his power. The odd balance of the universe that Mikey himself had explained to you one night, he was as he needed to be.

He was infectious.

The clear baby of the family, he also appeared to be the other men’s favorite. Setting aside how they were loudly ranking one another, it was how Mikey conducted himself that had sucked you in. Even when he was plowing, bullheaded, into something without a care for the repercussions, it was difficult to fault him. It was comedic in a sense, but in a larger one it was more.

He was devastatingly earnest.

Not once had pretext revealed.

It had been on your way back to your desk after refilling your water bottle on the third day that you realized he could have an ulterior motive. You guarded yourself then. Reading back to see if you had let something slip and keeping an eye out moving forward. 

Only, he’d smashed the thought.

Unlike Leo, he never seemed to lead anywhere. 

In fact, he hadn’t brought up Donnie once since that first message. In the time since, you’d mostly placed that surprise as one he related to cuisine itself. Cooking for Mikey was elevated to an art form and he respected it with the worship of a clergyman.

In that way, he seemingly understood Donnie better than you.

From the way Mikey talked about food, it was nearly the same as Donnie talked about his passions. They both had the brash exterior of a scientist with a careful consideration of blasphemy in case their faith was infringed upon. Things were meant to be done a certain way, whether it be handed down by their field’s forbearers, and to deviate was a cardinal sin. 

Mikey was a little more self aware. 

Though he hadn’t brought it up, you eventually placed that original conversation hadn’t been about some chef, but about Mikey himself. 

That was why he’d thanked you.

He was explaining away his own confusion.

A learned habit you imagined came from a family where actions were rarely done with obvious intention, he was definitely the type to beat a point to death.

It only acted to enhance his innocence.

He could only be a mastermind far beyonds the likes of Donnie if he intended anything else. 

Your conversations were nothing more than two people casually getting to know each other. 

He was a regular guy with a love of life in spite of its hardships.

Even after the long day he’d had yesterday where everything had gone wrong and a villain had made off with a little old lady’s retirement check. Mikey’s resolve hadn’t been shaken. He’d taken the woman to go get groceries even while she made comment after comment about his species. He spoke of it all with a sense of levity and how, when he’d carried her things back to her apartment, she’d berated him outside of it in case he thought to rob her later. All taken with a grain of salt that he dismissed as he didn’t know the life she lived, he then explained the art he’d seen.

On the way home, beaten in a mental sense and, not doubting, but worn on humanity he’d sworn to protect, he described a mural.

Graffiti that he refused to take a picture of as that would muddy its message, he wove poetry about its lines. Colors warm like a sunset, he’d gone and traced the paint against the brick. He described the bubbling of the layers and how he could see which direction the artist took the cans in vivid detail.

He hadn’t even needed to say it renewed his faith.

There was no ending message that said he was reminded of why he chose to do this.

He only explained the mural before switching subjects as if that life affirming event meant as much as asking about a TV show you’d been watching the night before.

Donnie had taken notice.

You knew that right away, the first time you responded to a message in his periphery.

You texted your friends regularly, but this was new.

That excitement of getting to know someone in a flurried catch up.

He’d never seen you like this.

He also didn’t mention it.

You were thankful.

You hadn’t figured out how to explain it.

Donnie respected you.

You loved him.

It probably wouldn’t have been an issue had it not interrupted on the fifth night.

You and Donnie had been making love. You languished in calling it vanilla because that was the world’s most expensive and coveted spice. Never a dull moment with your partner, it was a casual renewal of your bond that had been interrupted by your phone vibrating loudly on the nightstand.

Kissing Donnie away from the distraction, the sudden flood of messages meant that for you the sound became a backdrop. It had taken less than a minute before he'd abandoned your lips to glower down at you.

“We’re not discussing this while I’m inside you.”

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

He knew you were talking to one of the other turtles.

He might even know which.

You would to drill him on the how after.

“Gonna be hard…” You feigned trailing off and nudged from beneath him.

He took the bait with a wary lowering of his lids.

“Considering there’s always some piece of you inside…”

He’d growled and under the cover of fucking you for your insolence, your phone had somehow been thrown safely across the apartment.

When you found it after, you ran through the messages accrued. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” He responded without pause.

“How’d you know?”

“Yesterday morning you asked me to grab your phone.”

You looked over where he was folding some freshly cleaned sheets.

“I don’t usually inspect your electronics. You received a message as I was passing it off.”

“Why… aren’t you mad?”

“Are you under duress?”

“No.”

“Blackmail?”

You snorted. “Not even.”

“That one is…” Donnie’s lip curled with silent fury.

You felt guilt. “He’s a lot.”

“Incessant.” Your boyfriend looked right at you.

“He’s something… I don’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

“I mean, it is.”

“No.”

“Donnie.”

“Who you speak to is not.” He snapped a top cover. “I trust your judgment.” He turned to construct a stack and moved away.

It wasn’t a blessing, but in an abstract way you understood where Donnie was coming from.

“Now if it was the blue one…” Donnie murmured from beyond your sight.

You had rolled your eyes and kept talking to Mikey.

Around the tenth day, it had become part of your routine. He wasn’t the type to necessarily wait or care for a response. He’d blow up your phone at any and all hours and as the newness of him wore off and settled into what seemed like a long term thing, you now responded to him at specific times. Usually catching up in the morning and at lunch, his late night messages were slowly forgotten as you had a series of new year hangouts with friends. Donnie’s attendance had been relegated to only one event where he devastated his social battery through one droning charcuterie board.

Resolutions to enact now that would surely be forgotten by February, your schedule was filled. It was after one such lengthy dinner that you’d come home, greeted Donnie, buried yourself in sheets, and realized you hadn’t heard from Mikey all day.Unearthing your phone as you cuddled up against your drowsy partner, you found no messages in your inbox and your brow came down with concern.

Mikey always messaged you.

The quick worry was doused just as fast as you reminded yourself how busy you were. He surely was as well, especially with all his hobbies, and also you barely knew the man’s real schedule. Your conversations with random ones, usually dictated by whatever topic of the hour interested him. It had been so easy to rely on him leading that it was sort of eye opening to find he hadn’t been the one to reach out. It made you scroll back through your messages where you quickly found that not once had you ever instigated.

Is this why he checked out from reality?

That flippant part of him, his supposed failing.

People were so quick to attach themselves to him, did he have to hold everyone else at arm’s length?

He made it simple, but was that his intention?

He never had ulterior motives.

Even when he was setting up for a punchline, he’d mistakenly jump the gun without waiting for the lead up because he was so excited.

He was good natured.

Leaning your head further against Donnie’s carapace, you wondered if there was something beyond.

If this was how he treated everyone around him, then there must have been an inner layer.

The true self he protected, was it a worried one?

Did he break?

Did he cry?

Was his heart always on his sleeve?

A bleeding one.

You felt Donnie rouse.

Stilling, you felt bad for having woken him.

“You okay?” He asked without bothering to look over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you go back to sleep.” You nudged him with your nose.

There was a long bout of silence that stretched and made you think he had done just that.

You sat amongst versions of Mikey guarded.

A series of clay soldiers, each modeled to protect their host.

All fragile in their own ways.

“It’s about him.” Donnie spoke softly, carrying little in his tone.

You nodded.

“We can…” He hesitated before unintentionally clicking his tongue with parted lips and an exhale. “In truth, I would rather never speak of this, but it concerns me. I don’t want you to feel that you cannot speak to me about something.”

You gave a small understanding huff.

He gave the gentlest shove backward to alert you that he was going to roll over.

You moved out of his way.

He got situated on his opposite side and stared you down. “A lengthy way to say: speak to me. About anything. Regardless. Even the blue one.”

“I feel guilty.” You blinked up at him. “That’s not why I’m upset right now, but I feel guilty about talking to him after what he did to you.”

“That is not your fight.” He brushed your cheek.

“We’re one. You’ve said that before. I should hate him. That would be doing right by you and-”

A finger pressed to your lips cutting you off. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”

You pursed your lips against his digit.

“How to explain…?” He asked the air. “Our union is to share burden. To ease the other. Do I seem perturbed?”

You looked around the top half of your vision and hoped to indicate that certain messages received had interrupted one union in particular which garnered his ire.

He pinched your lips down against his thumb.

You giggled.

“My quarrel with them has not been put to rest, but it is as good as dead. With the rat’s deal and our current trajectory a lifelong one, I can’t see a way in which that would change. That does not mean I am not cautious, only that they are bound by duty to you as am I.”

Your eyes widened.

He came in to rest his lips against your forehead as he spoke. “You have unintentionally settled a life long grievance. I am content in knowing I hardly have to think of them.”

You touched your pads to Donnie’s plastron.

He took it as you wanted to see him and backed up enough for you to.

“You’re okay? You promise?”

“I will inform you if I do not care about a conversation’s contents. If you give me fodder otherwise then I have grounds to take up the sword as I have always wished.” In the dark he especially glinted with malice.

“Are you using me?”

“Not explicitly.” He caught a playful kiss.

You pushed him away. “Terrible.”

He hummed an agreement.

“I’m worried is all.” You had to stop and locate your phone. “He went from messaging every day and then today nada.”

“Did he have plans?”

“He’s always doing something…” Your brow furrowed.

Donnie looked up and away with a sort of satisfaction.

“I’m hoping he’s not dead.” You retorted, dryly.

“Your loss.” Donnie responded with another wicked smile.

“It’s too soon to ask. I guess part of me is worried he’s already-” You cut yourself off.

Since when had you become attached?

Sure he was fun to talk to, but you knew loads of fun people.

Mikey was something all his own, but there were millions of people on the planet.

He, in particular, had a specific glaring failure of his person.

One that manifested across from you.

It was also the tether of which the two of you had met.

The odd dichotomy of it all felt abysmal.

What did you want?

It’s not like you’d thought Donnie would join their little family.

The dynamic would never be a solid one.

He had his own support system now.

At the same time, you felt a strange attachment to these beings.

The ones you could not help, but were inadvertently stuck with all the same.

You had always wondered what happened to Leo after the gym incident.

Had he reconsidered his position?

You hadn’t dared ask Mikey.

That wasn’t the youngest’s business.

Mikey had his own life to live.

They all did.

What bound them to you?

What bound them to each other?

You softened.

What binds anyone to anything?

You looked at Donnie anew.

Your partner shifted against his pillow watching you go through the motions.

“I thought we were becoming friends and I’m kind of sad in case he changed his mind.”

If surprise struck him in any way, Donnie betrayed none of it.

He only reached out and fixed a flyaway hair on your head.

“If he has, then he is a bigger fool than even I conceived.”

You buried yourself into your mate’s chest.

He rumbled a soothing churr and you let your eyes drift shut.

You would have made it to dreamland if a sharper nagging vibration hadn’t interrupted your journey. 

“With age, they say.” You felt Donnie pick up your phone from where it had once again been forgotten.

“It’s him?”

“Yes.” He passed you the device.

“Thank you.”

He only hummed a response before rolling over. “Wake me if you receive good intel.”

“Uh huh!” You snarked, rolling onto your back to check the message.

Mikey: Oh man group was wild today!

You: Group?

Mikey: Yeah! We ran a lemonade stand to raise funds and as an exercise and there was only one fire!

Mikey: New record!

An image of a cartoon penguin cheering came next.

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about

Mikey: Group! You know!

You: I really don’t

Mikey: Did I not…?

Mikey: Dang it! Why didn’t you say anything?

You sent an image you’d gotten from him of a cartoon character from your youth raising a judgmental brow.

He responded with a picture of a tanuki snickering.

You imagined he’d get along well with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

Mikey: Me and another mutant named Todd run a villain rehabilitation therapy group

Mikey: My other dad, Draxum, once put together a league of bad guys to try and crush or turn us or whatever he was doing at the time

Mikey: I forget

Mikey: Anyway Todd was a member (long story) but one day years ago when we were doing our yearly camping trip (longer story) I brought up how he was actually good and he said all the guys were good!

Mikey: I kinda…

You watched him struggle to respond for the first time.

Your gaze flicked to Donnie.

Mikey: Not to make it weird but have a personal tie to that

Mikey: You know

Mikey: You get it

Mikey: Anyway not to make you uncomfortable

Mikey: We decided to start a group with an open invitation coffee donuts the whole thing you see in movies in case anyone wanted to talk it out and learn why and whats of good and bad and if that’s really a thing cause I don’t think it is

Mikey: We all just got stuff

Mikey: Sometimes that stuff sucks

Mikey: You never know whats really going on with someone else

Mikey: Yeah!

Mikey: Wow that was long

Mikey: Is it hot?

Mikey: Are you feeling hot?

Mikey: Heat wave in January!

Mikey: Global warming!!

He sent a comic about people being hot tied to the concept.

You: You’ve been running this group for years?

Mikey: Yep! We just had our… I don’t know… like 4 year anniversary

Mikey: We’re gonna do something big for 5

Mikey: Four was like a pizza party

Mikey: tbf one two and three were also pizza parties

Mikey: Who hates pizza?

Mikey: It’s pizza!

Tapping your screen, you took a breath before sending your next message.

You: Are you doing it in hopes someone will come?

Mikey: …

You watched as Mikey stopped responding.

Was that too much?

He’d just skirted the topic for your sake.

Mikey: In the beginning yeah

Mikey: Like a small part of me

Mikey: Even when the rest of me gave up

Mikey: Always hoped…

Mikey: I don’t know

Mikey: It’s sappy

Mikey: The others call me dumb

Mikey: I thought I had a track record

Mikey: Good old Mikey he can convert the best of them with good intentions!

Mikey: The therapist of the family!

Mikey: All you have to do is talk it out!

Mikey: You know the wild thing about group?

He waited.

You: What?

Mikey: It taught me the exact opposite.

The period there really caught you.

Mikey: That even coming in with the best intentions doesn’t mean anything

Mikey: You can’t control other people’s reactions

Mikey: Only your own

Mikey: That good and evil is a stupid depiction

Mikey: No one is really one or the other

Mikey: I’m not better than anyone else

Mikey: I’ve done some stuff

Mikey: I’ll tell you

Mikey: That doesn’t read write in text…

Mikey: I won’t literally tell you

Mikey: Even though I could

Mikey: Man actually I might!

Mikey: Not the point though what I’m trying to say is there is so much out in this world and healing is a wild journey and there’s so many ways to take it and la dee da this is usually where people start to think I’m a crazy hippie man flower child born in the wrong decade!

Mikey: Point is

Mikey: I stopped doing it for him or anything else

Mikey: I do it for me now

Mikey: I love therapy and if someone else gets something out of it then I’m STOKED

Mikey: And not cause I did it

Mikey: Its getting to see them do it?

Mikey: Them break through their trauma

Mikey: To see themselves as something more than what they were told or what they were forced to be

Mikey: Whatever

Mikey: It’s great

Mikey: How was your day?

You smiled and clutched your phone to your chest for a long moment before returning to the text chain.

You: How often do you do it?

Mikey: Every Wednesday!

Mikey: Wait

Mikey: OH ME GOSH DO YOU WANT TO GO!?

Mikey: YOU SHOULD TOTALLY COME 🤩

Mikey: Wait not because I want you know who to come you get that right?

Mikey: Oh gosh you don’t think that that’s what I’ve wanted all along right?

Mikey: The weight of my actions is suddenly a bus!!!

Mikey: Y/N!!!

You: I don’t! Stop! You’re spiraling!

Mikey: Fweh

Mikey: Really?

You: Yes! Stop!

Mikey: FWEH

Mikey: Bullet dodged!

You watched a Matrix gif appear

Mikey: Fr tho I think everyone should come

Mikey: Dad came by once!

Mikey: Leo won’t!

Mikey: Jerk! He needs it most!

Mikey: Raph comes when he can but everyone always ends up attacking him its funny

Mikey: Drax is always there tho

Mikey: YOU CAN MEET HIM!!!

Mikey: …

Mikey: I should be honest about something

You: ?

Mikey: Not the first messages but like after

Mikey: How I kept messaging you wasn’t totally innocent

You squeezed your phone.

Mikey: You… I don’t know what you did but like obviously you reached Donnie but you super did something to Leo

Your head fluffed your pillow.

Mikey: Like seriously hes been different

Mikey: Softer

Mikey: Kinda thoughtful?

Mikey: He was peak mad before so its a really noticeable change

Mikey: Like hes finally thinking about things instead of just holding his usual grudges

Mikey: I had to see what the big deal was about you

Mikey: Were you stepping on my therapist territory?

Knowing he would keep going on, you penned out a message.

You: What did you find out?

Mikey: That you’re just a person

Mikey: Just like everyone else

Mikey: I should have known

You watched a gif appear where a random cartoon character asked how many times they had to teach an old man a lesson.

Mikey: That’s a beauty of life

Mikey: You just keep learning!

-

Standing outside a community center, you thought about what you were about to do. 

You were going to attend this week’s group therapy session with Mikey. 

He hadn’t been intrusive when you dodged responding to his offer, but in the last few days, you had asked question after question. He accommodated them like some kind of monk and when you finally requested the address, he unleashed a barrage of memes that had momentarily slowed your phone to a crawl.

Berating him for it, you’d gotten the information and ended up here after work.

A few people trickled in around you, human and otherwise, and from your last text with Mikey, he was here somewhere to set up the dreaded chairs he had told you so much about.

Shooting off one last message to Donnie and having already promised to take him out this Friday as pittance, you heard a gasp to your left.

You were slow to turn and then forced to look up.

“Y/N!”

“Hypno!” You went straight over to the hippo who cordially took your hands.

“Small world! What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to…” You glanced center then back. “Are you…?”

Hypno lit up. “Could you believe? I found these meetings after our little soiree!”

“The group? Wait, I’m glad you’re okay! I’m sorry we got separated-!”

Hypno blew a raspberry and rolled it into a sound. “Pssha! I’m quite alright. Knew I would be! Knew you would be too! I like to imagine I cleared the way for your escape! Not my first shindig ruined by those infernal turtles!”

 You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Still…”

Hypno nodded furiously before gesturing for you both to move. He then offered his arm and you took it with him covering your hand comfortably with his own. “Yes, well, you inspired me that night.”

“Me?” You craned your neck.

“Why yes!” He huffed, holding his head high. “Softening the great Donatello! Weren’t you something? You were!”

“I’m just…” Mikey’s text rang in your ears. “…a person.”

“It only takes one to change your entire trajectory.” Hypno told you thoughtfully as some random man held the door. “Thanks, mate!”

The man responded in kind and even scrambled to get the second double door. More pleasantries were exchanged and you entered a gymnasium where a bunch of fold out chairs were formed into a circle.

“Where was I…? Oh, yes!” Hypno squeezed you in a move to steer you towards the refreshment table. “Our little talk sat with me, you know? Give yourself more credit. You got through to this old hippo’s heart! You made me think, ‘Hypno, old boy, do you like the villainy or do you like the captive audience?’ That was you!” He released and you stared at a table covered in a cheap cloth with donuts and drinks dotting its surface. “Do try Todd’s lemonade. It is absurdly delicious.”

“Mikey said.” You eyed the sweating pitcher and Hypno poured you a glass.

“Michelangelo!?” He crooned, passing you the first and pouring his own. “That’s new! You weren’t too keen on him last I saw!”

“Last I saw he was attacking you…” You grimaced and tried to cover your nerves with a sip. Hit with a  sudden burst of sunshine flavor, you had to set your glass down and exchange it for the entire pitcher. “What is in this!?”

“Right!?” Hypno downed a cup that was too small for him and you poured him a second. “This is Todd’s true evil.”

“I’m hearing a lot about this guy…” Things were moving too fast. 

You’d meant for this to be some casual peek into Mikey’s life. 

Everything felt like it was suddenly happening so fast. 

You didn’t mind the company. 

You’d thought of Hypno off and on since you last saw him. 

Reconnecting with him was a great bonus, but there was something unsettling about how unconcerned you felt. 

“You’ll meet him! He’s…” Hypno scanned the room. “Not here yet or in the back, but he’ll introduce the affair.”

You nodded, sipping more of that citrusy drink.

“Bother! I keep getting distracted. It’s been too long!” Hypno gave an animalistic snort which caused his ears to wiggle. “As I was saying, again, I found this advertisement stuck to my shoe one day and chanced upon this lot. They enforced what I was thinking. There’s more to me than what I do. Some may use it to excuse themselves, but they’re missing the greater message!”

You watched on with wide eyes.

“And bollocks to our partners!” Hypno threw his head high. “We’re our own people who make our own choices, isn’t that right?”

“Well, yeah, b-but…” You hadn’t even bothered asking Donnie to attend.

“Warren can be a bit hardheaded…!” Hypno’s gaze narrowed before he wilted in a fond sigh.

“Love…” You patted Hypno’s arm sympathetically.

“Y/N!” Mikey’s voice cut through the room with an echo.

Suddenly surrounded, he was swamped with a dull murmur of greetings that he desperately tried to dodge. Everyone wanted something from him and he ended up outright screaming in someone’s face that he was busy. It split the crowd like a tide and allowed him to charge over without further interruption.

“See what I mean?” Hypno giggled a whisper to you. “If that’s not a form of so-called ‘evil’ I don’t know what is!”

You tidied up your laughter as Mikey reached you. 

“I did not think about how to say hi!” He announced and wiped his hand as if he was going to offer it to you before thinking better.

“Eh, it’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You know, Ron!?” Mikey sprouted, dispelling the strangeness.

“Hypno, please!” The hippo groaned.

“Mikey, please!” Mikey mocked back.

“I’m sensing a thing…” You gestured with your cup.

“It totally is.” Mikey stared listlessly at you before something over your shoulder caught his eye.

He animated with immense joy and blew right past you.

“Nice to be on good terms with your parents.” Hypno mentioned without malice.

“I think you turned out pretty good without them.” You told him as you turned to see where Mikey had gone.

You heard Hypno babble something emotional that didn’t connect to real words, but all reality seemed to close in at the menacing sight of an enormous fuchsia colored goat man. As if waiting for his spotlight,  the man then belted out a long burst of maniacal laughter. If it weren’t for the fact that Mikey was literally hanging off his arm, you might have been more worried about what you’d actually walked into.

“You finally got that darned pot working?!” Hypno cupped around his mouth to shout. 

“Yes!” The goat turned, revealing a coffee pot in hand by lifting it up high. “No more shall we suffer under wretchedly incorrect brew times!”

“Y/N!” Mikey called and, with a flip like a gymnast on a bar, snatched the pot from the man’s hands.

The goat turned his attention from Hypno to you as if you were some grotesque bug on the hippo’s lapel.

“Seems like you caught the Baron’s eye.” Hypno nudged your side.

“Baron?” You asked and were assaulted with a comment you’d heard before.

What I do know is I came into possession of a yokai known as Baron Draxum.

Hooves beat the wooden gym floor and you were now the Baron’s clear target.

You bumped Hypno who fussed and steadied you, unintentionally blocking your escape.

In a hop and a skip, Mikey reached you first and chirped happily. “Y/N! Draxum! Draxum, Y/N! This is my other dad!”

“Nice to… uh…” You stared up at Draxum as he glared down his nose at you.

“You don’t look like much…” Draxum spoke with a gruff voice.

“I’m really not…” You wilted.

Draxum craned a brow. “Hard to imagine someone so meek would tame one of my more successful creations.”

“Barry.” Mikey put on a bit of heat.

Draxum sighed. “It is nice to meet you. I await picking apart your psyche.”

Mikey shoved him. “He means chat! He can’t wait to chat!” He clucked nervously before continuing to push a stiff Draxum over to the chairs. “When are you going to remember that words mean things!? Different things!”

“My speech is impeccable.” Draxum huffed, allowing himself to be pushed as if he were on a dolly.

“If that’s worn you out then you’re in for quite the night.” Hypno tittered.

“This is…” You blinked at the magician and back to the crowd starting to form.

“A lot and it only gets weirder!” Hypno cheered and started to join while beckoning you to come with.

Staying close to what you mentally dubbed your accountability buddy, you both took seats. Mikey got Draxum in one of his own and shared with him a few stern words before he leapt away to plug the coffee pot in. Draxum folded one leg over the other and stared casual daggers at you while Hypno fed you gossip about the members.

“Hello, friends!” A small mutant appeared on the stage holding a puppy and though there was no one to operate that sort of thing, a spotlight shined upon him. Dressed in a preppy outfit stolen for a 1980’s catalog and with a puppy tucked under one arm, he commanded a silence that fell over the group.

“Look upon him.” Hypno joked in your ear. “You are in the presence of the Spine-Breaking Bandit.”

Your head flew to Hypno’s in complete disbelief.

“Did everyone get some lemonade? It’s a fresh batch!” The furry mutant easily leapt off the stage. ”I got service puppies for everyone tonight! Pet them to your heart’s content! They love that! And to whoever gets Steve, remember to scratch behind the little fellas ears because he just loves that doesn’t he?! Doesn't he!?” Dropping to a baby voice, the so-called Spine Breaker pet the puppy in hand before a dozen more poured out from the stage.

Everyone getting one as described, you soon had a mutt in your lap and Hypno was cooing with one snuggled up in each arm.

“Oh! Everyone!” The mutant clapped on approach. “I’m happy to report we raised $123 dollars for Repo’s surgery! Good job!”

“Enough for a single Tylenol.” Draxum clicked his tongue loudly. “The medical system you humans endure is more tragic than anything I could have concocted. Though I suppose you did survive those plagues….”  

“Yeah, I’ll take you experimenting on me again any day!” A strange hybridized mutant with rabbit ears slapped a monkey arm to his dog-like backwards knee and gave a bright bout of crowing laughter.

“Now, now. Every bit helps.” Mikey approached.

“Sure does!” The bandit chirped.

“Not to put you in the spotlight, Todd’s going to do that anyway, but we have a special guest tonight.” Mikey turned to address you.

Your eyes lost focus at the middle bit of Mikey’s sentence.

Todd.

The man standing next to Mikey was Todd.

The man with the puppies.

The man who made the sunshine lemonade.

The man he went camping with on a yearly basis.

Who ran the Cuddly Cakes Puppy Rescue.

Who founded his own scout troop that regularly won awards. 

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit.

You turned to catch Hypno’s sleeve in a death grip.

Behind you Mikey was still going through his introduction.

“Tell me you were joking!?” You shouted at the magician. 

Hypno blinked. “Which part?”

“That is not a Spine-Breaking Bandit!” You threw an accusatory finger at Todd.

Todd put a hand to his chest.

“That’s a-that’s a-!” You stuttered, not knowing what kind of mutant he was.

He was a fuzzy one.

He was a soft one.

“Capybara.” Todd offered.

“Capybara! Capybara?!” You turned to stare at him. “That’s the most friend shaped one!”

Todd giggled. “Aw shucks!” 

“I thought you were honest with me!”

Draxum gave a single chuckle that he tried to cover up under a hardened exterior.

Poser.

“I was…” Hypno urged you to calm down.

“Yup!” Todd offered, walking over. “He’s not wrong, ya know!” 

You gave an unhinged stare.

“It’s part of why I’m here today, silly!” Todd reached you and held out a hand. “I know better than anyone about the darkness that can grow inside of your heart!”

You shook his little claws.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things; I killed a lot of people.”

It seemed impossible staring down at this jolly fellow.

“I also decided that wasn’t what I wanted anymore…” Todd released you and you could tell he was addressing the room. “Physically, by mutating, I was given a new lease on life. I didn’t have to run from the police anymore. I could start fresh. I had a choice! So it happened after I broke into the zoo to snap the spine of that worker who’d made fun of my teeth earlier that day, sometimes it happens! Chances come when you least expect them!”

You gawked, stepping back to give him the floor.

“Friend!” Todd looked up at you. “Capybaras have quite the sweet reputation. Who’da thought? Not me! But it was through these fellas and myself that I realized nothing was permanent!” He rounded and everyone’s spirits seemed to raise. “You’ve all heard the story enough. I won’t bother y’all with the details again, you all know! The morals are the same!”

“Yeah!”

“We’re not just evil!”

“They’re just words!” 

Todd smiled. “What I’ve done qualifies me to help. I know what it’s like. I saw what I was capable of. I learned I could choose to be kind, to be happy. To spread joy! How else could I stand before all of you?” He did a turn with his arms spread. “To understand is to have been there or learn by proxy…” With a glance, Todd nodded to Mikey who shot back a grin. “Which brings me to you…”

You tensed.

Your proxy wasn’t one who wanted a spotlight.

In fact, your proxy wasn’t supposed to be affiliated with any of this.

Your proxy wasn’t here. 

“It’s all because of you…”

Could you stop him?

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit. 

There had been something he’d clearly left out of his transformation.

It very much sounded like he had still killed that zoo attendant.

“… that Hypno joined us!”

You paled before color struck you with a slap.

It seemed so obvious.

Not everything was about Donnie. 

Wasn’t that why you were here?

Hypno chortled, bashful. “Oh, stop!”

You trailed after Todd as he approached the magician. “You know they also say Hippo’s are the deadliest land mammals!”

“What do they know!”

“Hypno would never!”

Hypno smiled at Todd and then you. “Thank you.”

“I really… didn’t… do…” You watched the faces look upon you with warm welcomes. “… anything.”

“No?” Todd spun around to give you his attention. “I don’t think that’s true, friend, but why don’t we listen and see!?”

“It all started when I was a boy…!” Hypno began and everyone took their seats. Watching the meeting, each person took their turn amongst the attentive group. Between short shares, Todd or Mikey would speak up and reaffirm or point out a note in someone’s story. Of the humans there were ex-cons or those wronged by the system. From the mutants they were either deemed evil by existence or had turned to crime out of necessity.

Even Draxum, who had served as a lunch person for several decades now, took a moment to share a moment where he had not killed someone who bumped into him at the grocery store.

They acknowledged kindness in that and you couldn’t help but think that there was.

You didn’t know, but it seemed clear Draxum was working through some long bred hatred.

It made you wonder how old he was. 

What with his plague comment and all. 

It was also painfully obvious that he was only there for Mikey.

His son meant the world to him. 

It made you think that if he had succeeded in his ridiculous plan to raise warriors then it would have never panned out the way he thought.

Parenthood would have softened him more than it already had.

Nothing was so obvious.

As the group came to a close with words to work on, you mused over your partner.

Like Leo, you couldn’t imagine Donnie attending, but that didn’t mean either party was lost.

Each person handled themselves differently.

You were all trying to survive.

There was sure to be some actual darkness out there, but none of it seemed to be around you.

People were standing and you moved with the group for the sake of it.

Hypno ushered you with quick words saying he had to go as Warren was waiting, but he took the time to exchange numbers with you in a blur. Happy with the exchange, you shared a quick hug and the room soon emptied out. Todd was wrangling puppies and Mikey dismissed him saying he had clean-up. Thanks were passed for another week and a few slips were signed until it was just you, Mikey, and Draxum left.

“This would be done instantly with my vines.” Draxum complained, carrying a row of folded chairs.

“And I’m not in the mood to explain to the center why we busted the floor for a ninth time.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

You moved to close up a few chairs on instinct.

“You don’t have to do that!” Mikey called out. “What’dya think?”

You shut the single chair you had and held it to you. “Did you know what I’d get out of this?”

“No?” Mikey stopped with a too large stack that quaked as he thought the point over as if it was new to him. 

Before he could come to a conclusion, there was a domino affect chair slide that took Mikey out with it. 

Draxum folded a hand on his hip as if that proved a point.

“Fine!” Mikey bellowed before bringing up his hands. Within a blink his eyes swam in a sea of orange and you stumbled a bit as basal fear caught you. In an instant, chains shot out around the room and you scrambled back with a little noise. Not necessarily captured, you were encased in a n amalgamation of a laser grid. 

Different than anything you’d seen, they moved in a sort of coordination and you settled realizing the chains were hooking through all the chairs. In a taut pull, they all folded up via gravity and then in a flick, they traveled in a cohesive clicking system until they were placed in a rack on the far side of the room.

“Happy?” Mikey’s power tapered off and he glared at his dad.

Draxum gave a satisfied nod and approached the snack table to grab some coffee from the newly fixed machine.

You stared after him as Mikey watched over.

“He’s impressed by you.”

“Doubt that.” You glanced at Mikey.

Mikey shrugged. “He is! Probably from you calling Todd out. He likes when humans don’t follow what he calls norms. Something about ones with fight in them.”

“I didn’t mean…” You shirked. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Mikey held his hands up with a sarcastic purse of his lip. “Please, telling someone they aren’t what they are at therapy? Totally cool and normal.”

You put your face in your hands.

“What did you get out of it?” Mikey asked, unwilling to pass forgiveness.

That seemed so very like him. “Something I was feeling about you all.”

“Us?... Wait, me?!”

You nodded out of your hold and let your arms fall to your sides. “You know when I first met you all I thought you were the villains.”

Draxum snorted into his mug.

Mikey shot him a dirty look before returning to you. “Cause Donnie lied to you!”  

You smiled. “Just like your first text. You use his nickname.”

Mikey flushed on contact. “N-nickname? N-no! That-!”

“It’s okay.” You tapped his shoulder. “Well, it’s not. Even I wasn’t allowed to use it when I first met him, but I’m just saying, I get it.”

“In…” Mikey took a deep breath. “In almost every way I’ve accepted it. We’ll never be family. We aren’t.”

You nodded.

“But we are.” Mikey had a hollow finality to his voice that he sent to the empty room. “I’d never say it to his face.”

You gave a little upturn of your lips in understanding.

“You’re dodging my question.” He folded his arms.

“The one about you being villains or about what I thought of tonight?”

Mikey had to study you. “Both!”

“To the first, perspective, to the second… perspective. Same thing in different ways. It’s all about it, I hear.”

Mikey unfurled to give his own quirked grin. “Ain’t that something?”

“Quite.” Draxum walked up, leaving an empty refreshment table in his wake.

Not sure where the trash had gone and questioning if him being a goat meant he’d eaten everything and the tablecloth, you gawked at the man.

“Shall we add a guest to dinner?” Draxum made a show of bending his body to examine Mikey like he was below him.

The folded hands behind his back were rubbed with faint nerves.

Draxum was still trying.

He probably always would be.

“Yeah!” Mikey seemed none the wiser. “Y/N, wanna come eat with us? We do this after every meeting!”

“Um…”

Draxum rose back up and reviewed you benevolently.

“I think… I want to get back home to Donnie, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure!” Mikey acted as if he was waving you off, but at the last second, swung his body in so he could  pretend to whisper secret information in your ear. “Good choice, foods never as good here. Now brunch, brunch is the meal ticket you want to get on.”

“Brunch is not available to you as of yet.” Draxum made a decree.

Mikey nodded in a solemn way that said he already knew. “It’s a whole thing.”

“You must prove worthy.” Draxum cracked his neck with a wicked smile.

“I’ll… try to get on the brunch ballot sometime then…” You glanced between the odd pair as Mikey bounced away.  

“Text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” You nodded. “It was nice… meeting you like this. In a less kidnappy way.”

“Yeah!” The turtle chirped.

“You too.” You looked over Draxum with a grin of your own. “Minus the last part, obviously.”

Draxum only gave you a single nod.

“He likes you!” Mikey sang.

Draxum punted Mikey clean across the room with a single strike.  

Mikey’s ring laughter at the act was the only thing that soothed you. 

You also took it as your cue to leave. 

You were never going to get used to that casual super-powered violence. 

It spoke of family, but their strength meant it pushed dangerous limits. 

It must have come with the territory. 

What with them created to be living weapons. 

Donnie was so easily tender you sometimes forgot what he was capable of. 

He also wasn’t raised with brothers. 

It was so strange to think that the cruelest amongst them was the softest. 

You very much wanted to curl up in his arms. 

Heading out into the dark night air, you decided it would be the first thing you’d do before unloading upon him this hell of a night.

NEXT

Always shouting praise to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[imagionationstation]

Hi. I’m back. I keep thinking of separated au ideas. It’s a problem lol

Uhh…idea - Donnie is the only turtle separated but he’s raised in the streets instead of by someone.

He’s lowkey a menace lol - he doesn’t build as often id think…he had next to nothing to learn from. I do think he learned to repair things though. I like to imagine he skates around everywhere (roller skate/blade idk) cause it’s funny.

I think they’d find out he’s alive when they

One. See a turtle mutant roaming the streets when they first go up. Too bad they don’t know it too well cause they lose him kinda fast

And two. When Mikey’s looking at some art on a building (that was vandalized by said art) and it’s signed “Donatello” the name of there presumably dead brother.

Idk. This is a silly self-indulgent au. You can answer if ya want - no pressure!

— ♊️

“Raised in the streets”

Boi’s about to teach his brothers a thing or two about the surface world. He cannot stop being the smartest creature, can he?

I definitely think that he’s spent more time surviving than building. Maybe he plays with stuff sometimes, but he’s never spent time in one place long enough to establish a living space. He loved to tinker with things, but he’s not about to weigh himself down with inventions. He does love breaking into libraries, though, because he can learn as much as he wants and then put the books back in a place that he can easily retrieve them.

Roller skating Donnie. Let’s goooo 🤝

He is proven to have artistic skill in the show so WHY NOT. Why shouldn’t the mutant boy vandalize a few things?

The police hate him, but kids like Casey idolize him.

Donnie had buried the few memories of his childhood as he learned how to survive. When he notices the mutant turtles that pop up, it prickles sensations and begins an ache that he doesn’t understand.

He hangs back for a while, and for every episode before he introduces himself, it’s hinted that he’s watching them at one moment or another. He doesn’t really know what to make of them or the fact that when Mikey catches him working on his latest mural, his first instinct is to whip out his nunchucks and track him down.

Like, um, okay, no. Donnie’s not stupid. People have been chasing him off and on for years. He has too many bad memories of nets and guns. So if someone’s going to shout and charge, then his first impulse is always to run first and ask questions later.

I think that Donnie would need SOME help with survival and I pose Murakami for the job. That man has been providing food/supplies for a nightly visitor for quite a few years, but other than a few, brief conversations, they don’t interact much. The brothers officially meet Donnie on the same night that Murakami gets kidnapped and they bond while fighting to get him back.

Growing up on the streets means that Donnie doesn’t really trust people though, and it takes a while for him to warm up to them. He only helps them fight the Foot because he’s mad that they targeted a blind old man. He might be a loner, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about other living beings. He feels obligated to assist.

Give him a season or two, and he eventually moves in and learns to trust/rely on his fam. He just has some issues to work out first.

[paytato435]

Snapper and Stinkpot Character Ref: Bad Future Donatello

Donatello Hamato - 33-39, he/him

A lot has changed since Donatello’s brother accidentally caused the apocalypse. He can’t drink coffee, he’s carrying the research and development team of the resistance on his back, and he rarely ever gets a day of peace and quiet… until he suddenly find himself with far too much quiet.

After coming up with a proposal that could help save hundreds of human lives from the looming Krang menace, Donatello suddenly finds himself estranged and alienated from the family he would do anything to protect. Maybe they just can’t understand his vision?

My design for future Donatello comes from his ever growing feeling of loneliness and overwhelming drive to fix things. Passionately trying to make up for his missteps, Donatello throws himself into his work and art 24/7. Does it work? We may never know. I love the idea that Donatello finds meaning in life through the things he can make and design for others- it’s all he knows how to do. He won’t admit it, but he’s a huge people pleaser and he needs to help them in order to feel loved. This Donatello is broken; his drive to help others has backfired and hurt the people closest to him, and Casey Junior is especially reluctant to forget it.

In lighter news, Donatello’s outfit on the far right is inspired in part by Casey Junior’s outfit in the movie. My thought while looking at him was: “where did that fur come from?” I’d like to think that while Donatello did design his clothes, Casey refused to let the fashionista anywhere near his ensemble. Simply put, Donatello wears it all much better.

Really kid, please take better care of your clothes. Wear colors that don’t make me think of barf. 🤢

(PNG version)

Also, consider this propaganda for the @obscure-au-comp ! Votes for Snapper and Stinkpot are votes for more comics made around/ of my fanfic!

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