#raph and his temper

[brightlotusmoon]

Isn't it fabulous? I adore their dynamic.

Meanwhile you have Donnie and Mikey getting into shenanigans. Two sides of a coin covered in glitter and coffee and maple syrup

idk man something about the way raph and leo mirror each other

the way raph's vision suit opposite-imitates leo's broken foot outfit which in turn was inspired by when he was brainwashed into the foot clan in the idw comics

the way raph was associated with fire and leo with wind, and wind both feeds flame but can put it out just the same

the way they both go out and do dumb impulsive crap like the moody teenagers they are ie raph quitting 27 times and leo nearly getting himself killed cause he thinks he has to do stuff on his own

like emotionally. it does something to me

[fabuloustrash05]

"When I was a young man, I fell in love with a woman-"

"Oh, hey, is it that late?"

"Sit."

This is such a funny father and son moment between these two, and I love it way too much.

Not only with Raph trying to get out of hearing a story from his dad that he's not interesting in/in the mood to hear, but also immediately wanting out the second he realizes it's about his dad's love life.

[goodlucktai]

I love the way you do Raph’s temper in your RotTMNT stuff. He’s got big brother responsibility in him to his core, and that levels him out a bit, but he’s still hit-headed and irritable at times, and you write him with a temper that just. Sits and festers when it gets set off, and makes it hard for him to think clearly or from other peoples perspectives. Red needs a rattling sometimes to get out of being frustrated! I think it’s a really well done expression of anger, and it follows really well from a Raph that didn’t get in the habit of lashing out with his anger-not when he he had little brothers to protect and be an example to- so it all just gets tangled up in his head instead. Very well done, chef’s kiss.

thank you so much ! i love that raph is still hot-headed and short-tempered in every iteration, even if it manifests in different ways. rise!raph is so much bigger than his siblings, he probably learned very early on that he couldn't get physical when he got ticked off the way 03 and 12 raph tended to. and like you said, he was the oldest, so his little brothers automatically wanted to copy every single thing he did all the time and he had to set an example. i'm also the eldest of my siblings, so i write rise raph (and every other version of leo) with all the love and understanding in my heart

[brightlotusmoon]

January 2024: Someone was asking about my 2012 Raph headcanons.

Mikey was staring at him with a rakish, lopsided grin. His hands were folded, index fingers raised and pointing at his chin. “Feel better?”

Raph nodded. “Calm.”

“Good. Calm is my speciality.”

“Mikey, your speciality is being an annoying little goof.”

“But it brings calm and sanity to the group, doesn’t it.”

Raph found himself grinning. “If by sanity you mean utter confusion.”

“Hey, I never said I resonated with this reality.”

“Mikey, you’re a separate reality on your own.” And Raphael found himself reaching out to give his baby brother a noogie, which was graciously accepted.

-

And then he screamed.

Raphael got to his feet and screamed, and he ran at a wall, and he punched, and he yelled, and he felt emotions flooding through him and crashing over him and he didn’t even know if they were his and it was too dark and he should have controlled his own head, he should have controlled his own mind, why was he so fucked up, he couldn’t even fight a pair of human criminals without losing his mind and his fists were hurting and he kept screaming and his throat was on fire and his head was on fire and then the warm bright light came up from behind him and pulled him into a hug and

Mikey, it was Mikey. He shuddered. “Mikey, you shouldn’t be moving, they broke your--”

“I’m okay, Raph. You’re not okay.”

“Mikey, how many ribs are broken in you?”

There was a pause.

“Mmaybe half? It hurts. It hurts. You hurt more.”

“I do not.” And he punched the wall again, and something in his head punched him back and screamed like a wild animal, so he screamed back at it, and Mikey’s arms let him go and he flung himself at the wall, at the thing in his head, clawing at it, trying to bring it down and wrestle it like the beast it was and it was so huge and red and strong and he yelled and he screamed and it hurt in his head and not even the warm bright light could cover that dark thing coming for him and he hit the wall with his whole body, and again, and again.

-

Feb 2021: Hey, remember when I decided to emotionally torment Raph for multiple oneshots? Because I don't! Part 2

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Raph will never lose his temper at Donny, no matter what. Yes, it’s that meme from SnapCube lol

I did it! I did the comic I said in this anon post, finally…kind of. I never finished it, I hate the sketches, but I thought I’d post it because I have been lacking content as of late because of work and gross student stuff.

-> Commissions | My Kofi/Tip Jar :) <-

(The app I use for drawing didn’t save the first part, even when I asked it to? So it’s lower quality because I managed to salvage a screenshot but nothing more, my bad)

[hotheadedhero]

Daft Pretty Boys

AN: I was going to try and get something Halloween-like out but it's been busy lately. Have some fluffy angst with Raph, instead :D

Raphael x Reader

Warning: kinda angsty, soft-hearted Raph ahead :)

When you blessed the turtles with your bright presence and inevitably befriended them, Raphael didn’t realise just how much of an emotional rollercoaster it would be. As a person, you are amazing. You always make a point to engage with him and his brothers, even for the small things. Other than April, they’ve never felt more welcomed by human company before. The thing is, if he were to put one fault on you, it’s your taste in men. 

You fall fast and hard, and it’s not because of their looks. It’s the ones who have this idea that they know they look good: the confidence they exude, sharp-witted flattery on the end of a hook that you can’t help biting into. You get caught, pulled in, they have their fun, and then you’re chucked back into sea awaiting the next juicy-looking cast of bait. One would think you’d be smart enough to not fall for the same routine tricks over and over again but here we are.

Each time you say, “He’s really sweet,” followed by a “This one is different,” but he never is. You’re always taking that chance, betting on the next guy being Mr Right, only for it to end in heartbreak, and every time Raph’s at your aid when you come crying to him. That isn’t said with any malice for you. He will always be there to pick up the pieces. Maybe broken pieces of these stupid shmucks if he just had five minutes alone with them.

You grasp so desperately to hope. Raph would commend you for your optimistic persistence if it didn’t break him to see you in tears. There’s only so much one heart can take. He doesn’t want you to become some calloused husk of your sweet self, too afraid to take another chance. He doesn’t want you to end up like him. Raphael knows he’s unloveable. Regardless of his appearance, he has a temper - one that he keeps as far away from you as he possibly can. His feelings for you never seem to pass despite how much he tries but he isn’t meant for love. That isn’t how this world works. You, on the other hand, should be cherished and he’ll beat the next sorry sucker who does any less than that.

How? How can someone be so foolish to drop you like these men have? He doesn’t get it. Were it him, he’d spend every waking moment appreciating you, letting it be known just how precious you are and how lucky he is to be the one to call you his. But he isn’t. The same daydream can play as many times as it likes, it’s never going to go in that direction. He needs to keep reminding himself of that.

You just deserve so much more than the cards you keep getting dealt. You’ve probably got to be the sweetest person he’s ever had the luxury of meeting. A little bubble-brained at times but that’s in part what makes you so cute. It’s also why you end up in and out of these short-lived relationships, he reckons. Much like now, for instance. It’s almost routine, weirdly systematic in a way, how you waddle into the lair glassy-eyed and red-faced wearing that grey sweater - the one he calls your breakup sweater - that’s two sizes too big for you. So much for the macho man with the green eyes. Making it to one month is a record, so there’s that at least.

Raphael doesn’t say anything, just holds a hand out whilst the other cradles the back of his neck. By now, he’s learnt that there’s nothing he can say. It’s better to wait on you until you manage to find your words. You slowly trudge towards him and smack your forehead into his chest. All he can do is stand there and stare at the top of your head whilst he battles the urge to pick you up and take you away from all this frivolous bullshit. His arm falls to his side as he watches you, and you just about say what he would expect you to.

“I really thought this one would be different,” you whimper quietly and the hiccup in your throat makes his chest burn. “He seemed so genuine.”

Raphael’s heart clenches. He wants to scream that he’s the one who’s genuine, that he’s the one who’s been here through every heartbreak, every tear. But instead, he swallows his words, feeling the weight of his own unspoken feelings pressing down on his chest.

He pats the top of your head, almost awkwardly, and sighs, “I know.”

A pained laugh muffles against his chest. “I’m the problem, aren’t I?” you ask rhetorically, playing it off as some joke at your own expense but it only angers him further.

“It’s not you,” Raph replies, a hint of a growl edging into his tone. “They’re the ones who don’t know what they’re missin’.”

“But there’s a common denominator here. It feels like it’s me.” You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Like, maybe if I was just different-”

“Stop right there,” he interjects, his brow furrowing. “You are not the problem. They are. Trust me on that.”

You always say the wrong things about yourself: the things he thinks about himself on a daily; if he was different. You are such an honest person and yet you lie so frequently when you talk about yourself. A nasty bi-product of those worthless scumbags treating you the way they do. You want to believe him on his word but you also can’t ignore the facts. It’s always the same song and dance. You stupidly cling to hope, searching for the silver lining that never seems to come, and end up in this sad mess of a person.

Raphael watches as you pull away, the warmth of his body replaced by the chill of reality. It’s painful to see you so vulnerable, so exposed. He wishes he could shake you out of this cycle, snap his fingers and make you see what’s right in front of you. But he can’t. All he can do is stand there, the silent sentinel, while you cry into the fabric of your sweater. The moment lingers, heavy and full of unsaid words. He wants to tell you that you deserve better, that you should never settle for the likes of those clowns who don’t recognize your worth. Yet, the words stick in his throat, tangled with his own fear of inadequacy.

He clears his throat, trying to break the tension. “Tell you what, let’s grab a couple sodas and a slice. Sit up top for a bit, yeah?”

You pull back slightly, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know if I can eat right now, Raph.”

“Doesn’t matter. You need to get outta this gloom. Plus, I’m starving,” he responds with a half-hearted attempt at humor, but the grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Finally, you yield. Begrudgingly, he might add, but food and the fresh night air is what you need right now, especially seeing as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment all day crying. He takes whatever pizza he had leftover - it’s only lasted because Mikey has luckily been out - along with a couple cans and leads you through the sewers. Whilst he’s essentially forcing you outside, he goes at your pace, never pushing you beyond that. Sure, it takes longer than it should but you get to a nice rooftop eventually, and before you know it, he’s already got you venting with a slice in your hand.

“And then he pulls out the classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ shtick,” you say and Raph follows with a quiet “Of course, he does,” before you continue, “and I swear, I could’ve just slapped him.”

“You should have.”

You hum shortly against a bite of pizza and shrug. “Ah, the moment’s long gone, anyway.”

The two of you glance at each other with a small laugh before returning to the view ahead. This feels better. Much better. Once again, your knight in shell-y armour has helped you bounce back from your foreboding. If you had it your way earlier, you would have loved nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch some bad reality TV to cheer you up. Not where Raph is concerned. He’s soft-natured when you need that shoulder to cry on but knows when to crack out a bit of that tough love, too. You’re always thankful for that - him - and you hope he knows just how much of a difference he makes.

"Hey.” He nudges you with his elbow and you look up, noting the light smirk on his face, though the seriousness behind his eyes isn’t something to be ignored. “Next asshole that breaks your heart, you just point me in the right direction.”

"And be an active participant in murder? Not a chance," you laugh and playfully swat him, earning a low chortle. You think you know what he’s getting at and it’s sweet in weird kind of way. With a perma-smile now glued to your face, you rest your head on his arm and speak more gently, "Thanks, though."

He glances down at you and tempts the idea of stroking a hand over your head. His fingers clasp into a fist and he looks ahead again, taking a gentle breath before responding quietly, "Yeah... don't mention it."

[vip3rid]

My mona lisa design. i love her

headcanons:

y’gythgba (mona lisa)

she/her

cis and pansexual

- raph learned how to pronounce y’gythgba’s soon after they met, though she prefers the nickname “mona lisa” because she finds it endearing

- joined the mighty mutanimals

- sibling-like relationship with leatherhead and slash

- frenemies with karai (they tease each other and disagree a lot on planning, though they highly respect each other’s fighting skills)

- besties with april!!!

- ptsd

- has a temper

- sometimes masks sadness with anger

- overthinks

- likes teasing and joking around with others

- very passionate about things she cares for

- likes the color pink

- enjoy playing soccer

- loves learning about astronomy and geoscience, geeks out with donnie

- leo got her into space heroes

- found mikey a bit annoying at first, but eventually warmed up to him and enjoys hearing his jokes

- poor vision (donnie gets her glasses with fun techy features)

- dislikes laziness

[tinyfandomknight]

You Were Always | Raphael Hamato

Pairing: Raphael Hamato x Reader Summary: Your date ended horribly. You walked home alone in the rain, sobbing, with a red mark on your arm and a story to keep from your green best friends (because they brutalize bad people, plus you were just embarrassed of your judgment.) Big Red, however, was tired of being your best friend -- and was waiting to tell you that. Themes & Warnings: protective!Raph, emotional love confessions in the rain, mentions of violence and possible carrying out of violence, swearing, slight fluff, comfort, Raph being angry bc he's always angry.

Having mutant turtle best friends was not how you thought your twenties would go. Not that you weren't thankful.

You just thought you'd be hanging out with your girls, going to bars, meeting dudes and finding your calling while studying in college. You thought it would be full of mini skirts, glitter, vodka and dreams. You were wrong. Completely wrong. Instead, you were walking home drunk from a bar alone, fell down an open manhole cover, and were caught by strong, green arms.

You screamed for a second. Passed out. When you woke up, you were on an old tattered couch with a giant rat staring at you, then looking at the four hulking turtle-human men in disdain.

That was how you met your boys.

It didn't take you long to love them. You loved Leo's courage, his leadership, his perfect advice every time you asked for it. He was more mature than most people you knew, though he hadn't experienced a full life that was similar to yours. You loved Donnie's intelligence, his excitement about his hobbies, how gentle he was, and how eager he was to teach you about things you'd never heard about. You loved Mikey's carefree spirit, the way he could always lift you up when you were feeling down, and his spectacular sense of humor. And most of all, you loved Raph.

You always attracted a bad boy. Always, always. Though it wasn't romantic, it was natural for you to spend the most time with the most rough-around-the-edges motherfucker there was. It was just how your life went. When you met Raph, he was tough to crack at first. He was a little grumpy about a new human joining their lives, adding to the chaos that April O'Neil originally brought -- but he warmed up to you until he was ultimately the closest to you out of the four.

At first, he didn’t speak to you much. Just kind of grunted when you came by. Didn’t laugh at your jokes. Barely made eye contact.

But you noticed the small things. Like how he always checked the tunnels before you left. How he stood between you and the sketchier parts of the lair. How he walked you out even when you said you didn’t need an escort.

You started staying longer when he was around. He started lingering in the doorway when you visited.

Eventually, that turned into regular late-night talks, usually on the couch, or while he bench pressed literal cars in the corner of the dojo. You’d sit with your legs crisscrossed, talking about dumb things: your classes, your horrible job, your wild roommates. He’d grunt or smirk, occasionally tossing in a sarcastic comment that made you snort into your soda. Sometimes he’d say something unexpectedly thoughtful, and it’d stick with you for days.

What no one told you about Raph was that he listened. He remembered everything -- the names of your old pets, the fact that your mom was sick, your weird favorite candy that no one else liked. He noticed when you wore makeup to hide stress, or when your laugh didn’t sound quite right.

When you got sick, he brought you soup and didn’t make eye contact the entire time. When you got dumped, he punched the punching bag until his knuckles bled and didn’t say why. When you succeeded, a passing grade, a new job, a clean day, he acted like it was your world championship.

And you?

You kept him soft.

You gave him space to breathe. Let him be quiet when he needed to be. Made him laugh when he didn’t want to. You saw past the temper and the walls and the scowl and found the stubbornly loyal, deeply sensitive, fiercely protective man underneath.

You made him feel safe.

It was always you and Raph -- shoulder to shoulder, sarcasm for armor, both pretending it wasn’t more.

Even if everyone else already knew it was.

The day you came into the lair talking about some date, Raph surprisingly held his tornado of anger, disgust, and jealousy inward. You never even noticed it. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to hide everything he was feeling -- maybe through the "keep calm" tactics that you'd taught him one day -- but he did it successfully. It wasn't like you'd never gone on a date before. You'd even gone on multiple dates with one chump, calling him your boyfriend before you eventually got tired of him questioning where you went every Friday night (movie night with the boys.)

“He's actually really nice,” you said, sucking the last few drops of a smoothie Mikey had made through a straw noisily. “He does concrete construction or whatever. He helped with the new sidewalk outside my university.”

The boys listened. Donnie sat on a stool, staring down at some little gadget he was working on, making noises of acknowledgement to show he was listening. Mikey did dishes, occasionally stopping to look at you. Leo sat politely, eyes on you.

And Raph? Raph stood next to you, arms crossed solidly, wishing he could run away and beat the shit out of something.

“Well, angelcakes, he sounds like a nice one.” Mikey commented, grinning. “But remember Mikey's rules for date safety! Never--”

You rolled your eyes.

“Never leave your drink uncovered, never--” You attempted to finish.

“--go anywhere alone, and if he orders milk on a first date, run,” Mikey finished, snapping a soapy finger toward you like a coach on game day.

You snorted. “He ordered beer last time, so I think we’re in the clear.”

“Still kinda weird,” Donnie mumbled, not looking up from his work.

“Beer’s weird?” you asked, lifting a brow.

“No,” Donnie said, adjusting a dial, “him.”

That earned a laugh from Mikey and even the smallest twitch of a smile from Leo.

But Raph? Raph didn’t smile. He didn’t speak.

He just stood there beside you, hulking and silent, jaw tight, arms crossed so hard his biceps flexed like steel cables under his skin.

You never noticed the tension, not really. You never noticed how his eyes flicked to your exposed collarbone, still dotted with the leftover shimmer of whatever perfume you wore. You never noticed how he inhaled, just once, like he could smell him on you. How he fought the urge to throw that smoothie cup across the room.

You never noticed because Raph didn’t let it show.

It wasn’t the first time you’d mentioned some dude. You’d brought up a few before. Guys who left you unsatisfied, frustrated, confused. He’d always been there after. Quietly listening. Driving you home. Standing behind you in line at the bodega, just in case the ex showed up and needed reminding. He made a public appearance a lot now, since Donnie had invented the projection watches -- they gave the boys human bodies, human personas for when they had to go up top and not raise hell. For when they needed to be up there for regular, human business.

This time was different.

This guy was new. He was “nice.” He had a job that involved strength. You smiled when you talked about him.

You stopped by again before you went on tonight's date. Your outfit would've made Raph blush if he wasn't so fucking pissed. You had a short, black dress on, just long enough to keep it classy but with enough leg showing to make you look sexy. Your hair was curled and tucked into a bun, ringlets falling in front of your face. Your makeup wasn't dramatic, it accentuated your naturally beautiful face. You wore heels, but they still didn't touch Raphael's height at all. After all, the man was like six foot seven.

You twirled in front of the boys, smiling brightly.

“How do I look? Is there something I'm missing?”

You were standing in front of him, spinning like some perfect little fever dream, the soft lighting of the lair catching the shimmer on your legs and the curve of your smile, asking him -- the guy currently gripping the edge of the counter so hard it might crack -- if you were missing something.

Yeah. You were missing something. Him.

He didn't say it. He couldn’t say it. Not with Leo watching you like a protective big brother. Not with Donnie adjusting his glasses and muttering something about “statistical likelihood of safety.” Not with Mikey wolf-whistling in the background like he was front row at a runway show.

“Daaaamn, baddie,” Mikey grinned, dramatically fanning himself with a pizza box. “You look like heartbreak in heels. Don’t kill the guy. Unless he deserves it.”

“I won’t,” you giggled, smoothing the sides of your dress. “He’s just taking me to dinner. Somewhere nice.”

“Nice how?” Leo asked cautiously.

You shrugged. “Little Italian place near the East River. It’s casual. Wine, candles… pasta, hopefully.”

Donnie didn’t look up. “Call me if anything seems off.”

“You’ll know before I do,” you said, tapping your phone. “I’m sharing my location with you already.”

“Smart girl,” Leo said with a nod.

Then your eyes flicked to Raph, still standing frozen by the fridge, knuckles white where they wrapped around the counter. You smiled at him -- warm and sweet, like you always did -- and tilted your head.

“Well? You didn’t say anything. I look okay?”

His throat was dry. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t look at your legs again, not when you were dressed like that for someone who wasn’t him.

You looked like temptation itself. You looked like his worst mistake waiting to happen. You looked like everything he couldn’t have.

So he gave a grunt. “Yeah. S’fine.”

“Just fine?” you teased.

He forced himself to look at your face. Just your face.

“You look great,” he muttered.

You beamed, completely unaware of the furnace behind his eyes. “Thank you, Raphie.”

Then you stepped close, too close, and reached up to fix the collar of his tank top with that same tenderness you always had. Your perfume hit him like a punch to the gut.

“You’re always honest with me,” you said softly. “That’s what I like about you.”

His jaw ticked. “Don’t like lyin’.”

You smiled. “I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”

Then you turned, heels tapping across the cement floor, and disappeared into the tunnels with a quick wave goodbye.

And Raphael?

Raphael stood there silently, watching the spot where you’d been, breathing slow through his nose like if he didn’t, something in him might snap.

Because it should’ve been him.

Taking you to dinner. Making you laugh over wine and pasta. Driving you home with your heels dangling from your hand, your lips gloss-smeared and smiling just for him.

Instead, he was stuck underground. Fuming. Wishing he'd just said it.

Wishing he’d told you the truth the moment you walked in, all sparkling eyes and lip gloss:

You didn’t look perfect.

You looked like his.

He groaned, wiping his huge hand across his forehead in frustration. Leo watched him carefully, pursing his lips. Donnie said nothing, as usual, and Mikey sensed the tension, tucking himself back into his corner where he was eating his pizza and playing his video games.

“She's your best friend. You should have just been honest,” Leo hummed carefully, as if not to set off the beast. “The truth'll come out one way or another.”

Raphael didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, still leaning against the counter, still seething under the surface like a volcano that had been too quiet for too long.

His hand dropped from his forehead, falling heavy against the edge of the counter with a dull thud. His jaw flexed. Once. Twice.

“Yeah,” he muttered finally, voice low and full of gravel. “Well. Too late now, ain’t it?”

Leo tilted his head, arms crossed, giving him that look. The big brother one. The patient, steady stare that somehow made Raph feel like he was still twelve and throwing punches in the dojo.

“It’s not too late unless you decide it is,” Leo said, voice calm, but firm.

Donnie didn't glance up from the device in his hand, but his voice carried from behind his glasses.

“She trusts you more than anyone. Statistically, emotional vulnerability paired with long-standing companionship has a higher chance of success than new--”

“Donnie, if you don't--” Raph snarled.

Donnie blinked. “Right. Not helping.”

Raph turned away from all of them. Walked a few paces across the lair like he might burn the energy off if he just moved enough. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, and his shell shifted with the tightness of his shoulders.

“She looked happy,” he said finally, bitter. “Talkin’ about him. Smilin’. Gettin’ all dressed up. Like he’s doin’ somethin’ for her that I can’t.”

Leo raised a brow. “Or maybe she was just excited someone finally asked. Doesn’t mean she picked him over you, Raph.”

“She did.”

“No,” Mikey chimed in from his corner without looking up. “She just doesn’t know you’re an option.”

That stopped Raph cold.

He stared across the lair, frozen in place, the words echoing in his skull.

She just doesn’t know you’re an option.

Because he’d never said it. Never given her the chance to choose him. Just stood beside her like a shadow while she cried over losers, complained about red flags, rolled her eyes at controlling texts and kissed cheeks that weren’t his.

He groaned again, dragging a hand down his face.

“What am I s’posed to do, huh? Run outta the shadows and confess like some kinda Hallmark hero? ‘Hey, surprise, I’ve been in love with you for years. Wanna ditch the dude who has fuckin' concrete all over his clothes and smells like Axe body spray?’”

Leo snorted. “Better than sulking in the sewers and letting someone else make her miserable.”

Mikey finally paused his game and looked over, eyes more serious than usual. “She’s not the kind of girl you can replace, bro. You know that.”

And Raphael did know that.

He knew it every time she laughed so hard she wheezed. Every time she fell asleep on the couch beside him, legs draped over his lap. Every time she saw him, really saw him, through the walls and the anger and the scars. She was his best friend. His anchor. The only soft place in a world that never gave him one. And he was gonna lose her to some prick in a hard hat who didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Hours passed. No calls, no texts. But Raph had decided. No matter what happened, he had to tell the truth. He had to come out and say it before he fuckin' exploded.

You finally sent a text, telling them you were going home, the date had gone "fine."

He was going to tell you. Tonight. When you got home from your date. Then, you could tell him whether you wanted the concrete brained little shit -- or whether you wanted someone who'd actually love you. Who loved you. Now. Always. Since he'd let you break into his walls, touch the parts of him that had never had a hand on them.

He threw a hoodie on, grabbing his phone, and moved to leave. Twisting his watch, he became a vision of himself, not quite Raph, but Raph enough.

Still tall. Still hulking with muscle. A buzz cut with a red bandana covering it, tattoos all over his skin, the same intimidating green eyes. He was hot actually, which you'd admitted when you first saw the projection. All of them were. Raph, though.. It truly did him justice.

Although secretly, you'd always thought Raph was hot. Projection or not. It was what originally drew you into him.

Raph heard Leo's voice from the corner of the lair, the dojo.

“Good luck.”

The rain was the first thing he noticed. He welcomed it, letting it pour down onto him in calming waves. He walked to your house, opting not to take the shell-raiser. After all, if things went badly, he'd probably find some dirty criminal to pummel.

He reached your apartment, sitting on your front steps under the overhanging roof. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it, puffing on it slowly as he waited for you to approach.

What would he even say? What would he do if you told him to fuck off? He didn't let the nerves dissuade him. It needed to be said, bad results or not.

It was about five more minutes before he saw your silhouette in the rain. You were small, far smaller than him, of course. He knew it was you by the way you walked. You were walking, walking, walking, he was waiting to see your face through the waves of water. When he finally did, his eyebrows furrowed.

Mascara stained your cheeks. Crying. You were crying.

You walked awkwardly, the closer you got. Your hand clutched your arm.

Then, your e/c eyes lifted. You saw him.

Quickly, you wiped your face with one arm, acting like nothing had ever happened. Then, the hand quickly came back down to cover your arm -- Raph wasn't close enough to see what you were covering. You reached Raph, looking at him in confusion.

“Raph? What are you doing here in the rain--”

He didn’t answer at first.

His eyes were locked on you, all of you. The ruined makeup. The limp in your walk. The tight grip you had on your arm, like you were trying to hold yourself together.

You were hurting. That much was obvious. And trying to hide it from him.

From him.

He stepped forward without thinking, eyes narrowing. His jaw clenched, and his voice dropped low, rough.

“What happened.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the edge in his tone.

“Nothing,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re not fine,” he said, stepping in closer. His eyes dropped to your arm, the one you were still guarding like a shield. “What’s under your hand?”

“Raph, it’s nothing, I swear--”

He was in front of you now, towering over you, not in a way that scared you, never in a way that scared you, but in a way that said he knew. That he wouldn’t let it slide.

“Move your hand.”

You hesitated. Looked up at him.

He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t huffing and puffing, or pacing, or growling with his fists balled up like he usually did when something pissed him off.

No. He was quiet.

And that was worse.

“No. Raph, please, I am perfectly--”

“Move your fuckin' hand, shorty, now.”

“Raph.”

His voice cracked through the rain like thunder.

“You want me to move it?”

It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t violence. It was a promise, for your own good. A promise that you'd heard before. He'd make shit happen.

You flinched, not because you were scared, but because you knew what was coming. You knew once he saw it, really saw it, there’d be no stuffing the rage back into the bottle. You hesitated just a second longer.

And then you moved your hand.

Raph’s eyes dropped immediately.

Silence.

The bruise was ugly. Purple and red, already deepening, shaped like thick fingers curled into the soft skin of your arm. It told a story you hadn’t even finished living yet.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared.

Then his chest rose -- slow, steady, dangerous.

His jaw flexed, his nostrils flared, and his eyes, those sharp green eyes, burned.

“Motherfucker,” he muttered, voice low and venomous.

You reached for him. “Raphael--”

You couldn't quite get him in your grip, just the fabric of his sweatshirt in a small hand. It was wet, soaked with rain, but you managed to keep your grip. He turned towards you, lip almost curled into a snarl. Anger heated the air up -- could've boiled the rain.

“You said the date was fine. Fuckin' fine. Look at your--” he cut himself off, taking a breath and looking up at the sky. “You lied to me. Why would you lie to save that waste of space?” He hissed, turning completely towards you.

You flinched, not from fear, never from him, but from the sheer weight of his rage.

The rain kept falling, soaking through your clothes, matting your hair to your face, but none of it mattered. Not with Raphael standing in front of you like a storm barely restrained, fists clenched, shoulders squared, breathing like he’d just fought ten men and still wasn’t done.

“I wasn’t protecting him,” you said quickly, gripping tighter to his hoodie. “I was protecting you.”

That stopped him.

His jaw twitched. His eyes snapped to yours, sharp as glass and just as fragile beneath the surface.

“I knew what you’d do, Raph,” you whispered, voice trembling. “And I didn’t want to lose you to a cell or a manhunt or -- or something worse. I didn’t want to see you destroy yourself for me.”

He looked at you for a moment.. Then laughed. Bitterly.

“Don't worry about it. Ain't no motherfucker on this earth that's gonna touch you and walk away fine. Whether you feel bad or not,” he said. He towered over you, trying to force his green eyes away from the nasty injury on your arm. “I'd burn this city down for you if ya asked me to. I'm gonna kill this fuckin' guy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Not because you didn’t believe him, no, you absolutely believed him, but because you could feel it. You could feel the truth in his voice, in every clenched muscle, in the way his words shook with restraint.

“Raph--”

“I mean it,” he snapped, stepping closer, close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off his chest. His projection shimmered faintly in the rain, struggling to keep up with the fury boiling just beneath his skin. “I don’t care if I gotta rip the fuckin’ streets up brick by brick, he’s gonna learn.”

You reached for him again, laying your hand gently against the front of his soaked hoodie. His heart was hammering underneath, furious, panicked, wild.

“I’m okay now,” you whispered. “I’m with you.”

He shook his head.

“Not good enough,” he growled. “You should never have to feel scared. Not when you got me. Not when you been right here in front of me this whole time and I’ve been too chickenshit to say what I really feel.”

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”

His jaw flexed again, rain trailing down his face like it was trying to cool him off. He took a breath, deep and shaky, and looked down at you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

“Shoulda been me.”

“W-What?”

He looked down at you still, his hand traveling down to pull your wet strap back up over your shoulder.

“Shoulda been me. Takin' you out, now that we can go up top,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Shoulda been me walkin' you home. Kissin' you at your front door step. Shoulda been me you were gettin' all pretty for.”

You stared, eyes wide and glassy.

“You were walkin’ around in that dress, hair done up all nice…smilin’ about some guy who didn’t even deserve a hello from you,” he muttered, eyes locked on yours, voice just shy of breaking. “And I stood there like a fuckin’ idiot, pretendin’ it didn’t kill me.”

His hand slid up, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb, rainwater tracing the movement.

“I ain’t ever felt more useless than watchin’ you leave tonight, knowin’ I wasn’t the one takin’ you out. Knowin’ I let someone else touch you ‘cause I was too much of a coward to say somethin’. And now,” he hissed, “I gotta kill the stupid fucker. Cuz he laid his hands on the girl I love.”

You didn’t even flinch at the words, the girl I love, but your breath caught like a rope had cinched around your chest and pulled tight.

The rain still fell in steady sheets, soaking you both to the bone, but neither of you noticed. Not really. Not with the confession hanging in the air between you, burning hotter than the storm around you.

“Raph…” your voice was soft. Barely a whisper. “Please.”

His gaze flickered, wild for a second, like he’d just realized he’d said it out loud. Like the truth had broken out of him without permission. But once it was out, he didn’t backpedal. He didn’t retreat.

He stepped in even closer, your bodies almost touching, his massive frame shielding you from the worst of the wind.

“I love you,” he said, voice low and rough, thick with emotion. “I love you. You think I’ve been watchin’ you all this time just to be your backup plan? Some guy you crash on when the rest of the world sucks?”

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head quickly. “No, I never thought that.”

“I been in love with you since the second you looked at me like I wasn’t just a monster. Since you laughed at my dumb jokes, shared your food, yelled at me when I got too hot-headed. You see me, and it scared the shit outta me.”

A warm tear ran down your face. His thumb caught that too.

“You're too good for this world. Too good for me. Too good for him. And even though you ain't mine, I'll happily shit-stomp any man that crosses you.”

You let out a soft, broken sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, as your hand reached up to cup his face, rough jaw and all.

“But I am yours,” you whispered. “I’ve been yours, Raph. This whole time. Was just too stupid to see it.”

His breath hitched, just for a second, and his hands flexed on your waist, like he couldn’t believe he was actually hearing the words. Like maybe the rain had messed with his head, or the universe was playing some cruel joke.

But your eyes were honest. Open. No walls, no filters, no fear. Just you, standing there in the storm, bruised and soaked and choosing him.

“You’re-- you wanna be?” he asked, voice cracking, like a kid afraid to hope.

You nodded, fingers curling at the back of his neck, drawing him closer. “Yes. I was just too scared to ruin us by saying it. I didn't want to lose you, Raphael. You're all I have. The only thing worth it.”

A beat of silence passed, thick, electric, before he pressed his forehead to yours with a low, aching groan.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathed, voice hoarse, reverent. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

And then he kissed you.

Hard. Fierce. Real.

He kissed you like he’d been holding back for years, because he had. His hands tangled in your hair, one arm wrapping around your lower back, lifting you off the pavement like your feet didn’t deserve to be on the same ground as the man who hurt you. His lips were warm despite the cold, pressed firm and sure to yours like he had no plans of letting you forget how long he’d loved you from the sidelines.

When he pulled back, you were both breathless. His voice was low and shaky when he said:

“If you’re mine… then you don’t ever gotta deal with this shit again. No more cheap dates, no more fake shit, no more bruises you try to hide.”

You swallowed, tears welling fresh again.

“Okay.”

“I mean it,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you loved. Proper. The way you always shoulda been.”

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady, thundering beat of his heart under soaked fabric.

“I know,” you whispered.

And he just held you tighter.

Because you were his.

And now, finally, he was yours too.

BONUS:

However, your date, though you thought Raph forgot about him.. did not escape retribution.

A couple nights after the incident, your date, Todd, stood alone. He was sweeping the new concrete, cleaning up after a week of work, headphones dangling from his ears. He hummed a tune, staring down at the pavement, admiring his work.

Didn't even notice the two hulking shadows approaching from behind him -- 'til his headphones were ripped right out.

“What the--”

He turned, startled, just in time to see something big and orange spin toward him. Todd took a full-on roundhouse kick to the chest from Michelangelo and went flying into a pile of sandbags like a cartoon.

“Yikes, bro,” Mikey said, cracking his knuckles. “You can put your hands on women but you can't take a hit yourself? Bummer.”

Raph stepped forward, massive arms crossed, that black hoodie of his soaked from rain and rage. “So you’re Todd, huh?”

Todd wheezed, struggling to sit up. “W-What the hell?! Who the hell are you?!”

Mikey grinned wide. “Let’s just say we’re the after-party to that date you fumbled so bad.”

Todd blinked, confused, then scowled. “This is about that chick? She said it was fine. What, you two her brothers or somethin’?”

Raph’s jaw ticked. “Somethin’.”

Then he grabbed Todd by the collar and lifted him off the ground like a rag doll. “She said it was fine,” he repeated mockingly, eyes narrowing. “Right after she came home cryin’ with a bruise in the exact shape of your grubby little hand. Sound fuckin’ familiar?”

Todd squirmed. “I-I didn’t mean--she was getting mouthy, I just--”

That was all he got out before Raph slammed him into a cement pillar, holding him there like a schoolyard bully from hell.

“I should break every bone in your slimy little body,” Raph growled. “But I promised her I wouldn’t kill you.”

Todd whimpered. “Then what--what are you gonna do?!”

Mikey stepped up beside Raph with a sweet, sunny grin… and a bright pink backpack.

“Oh, we’re gonna teach you, bro.”

Cut to:

Todd, thirty minutes later, is tied up Spider-Man style with neon pink jump rope, suspended upside down from the scaffolding. Mikey had drawn flowers and hearts all over his face in washable marker. His pants were missing (they were now duct-taped to the top of a flagpole nearby), and his shirt had been swapped with a hot-pink crop top that read: “I Cry When Girls Yell.”

A chalk sign was propped up beneath him. It read:

“Hi, I’m Todd. I’m a big, dumb, concrete-throwing jerk who hits girls. My biceps are fake. Don’t be like me. This could happen to you.”

“Next time,” Raph said, crouching down beside him, voice calm but terrifying, “you keep your hands to yourself. Or I’ll let Mikey use the glitter glue.”

Todd whimpered, nodding frantically, tears dripping down his inverted face.

“Glitter. Never comes out,” Mikey added with a wink.

With that, the brothers disappeared into the night, high-fiving as they vanished into the shadows.

Lesson taught. Message delivered.

And Todd? He never went near another woman without a very polite tone -- and two feet of personal space.

You, however, saw it in the news the next day.

The headline read:

“Masked Vigilantes Hijack Construction Site to Publicly Shame Harasser -- Chalk Sign Warns: ‘Don’t Be Like Me. This Could Happen to You.’”

You groaned, rolling your eyes.

“Raphael Hamato! Come here! Now!”

You heard the unmistakable sound of his boots thudding down the stairs before Raph appeared at the entrance to your room, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, baby?” Raph said, leaning against the doorframe, all casual confidence. His smirk widened as he took in your unimpressed expression. “You, uh… saw the news, huh?”

You held up the newspaper, shaking it at him. “This was your idea of ‘handling it quietly’?!”

Raph shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. “Eh, we didn’t kill him. That counts as quiet for me.”

You groaned again, tossing the paper onto the bed. “Raph, you literally left a chalk sign. And Mikey drew on his face.”

“Yeah, and?” Raph flopped onto the bed beside you, stretching out like a smug cat. “Dude’s lucky that’s all we did. You shoulda seen the other ideas Mikey had-- we didn't even use the glitter.”

You shot him a glare, but the corner of your mouth twitched. “You’re impossible.”

Raph grinned, reaching out to tug you closer. “Nah, just thorough.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone that still sent shivers down your spine. “And now everyone knows what happens when some punk puts his hands on you. He ever comes near you again, they ain't gonna find his body.”

You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the warmth spreading in your chest. “...You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Raph agreed, unrepentant. “But I gotta make sure my girl's taken care of.”

You sighed, finally letting yourself smile as you leaned into him. “...Thanks, Raph.”

He squeezed you tighter, pressing another kiss to your bare shoulder, just above the strap of your tanktop. “Anytime, shorty.”

(And if, later that night, you may have doodled a little heart next to the newspaper clipping before tucking it into your desk drawer? Well. That was your business.)

[pumpkinpenguin]

TFA: Turtles in Disguise

New Beginnings: Part One - Part Two (you're here!)

wahoo yippee it's finally done!! sorry if it feels like it gets worse quality as it goes on my hand is still healing from it's confrontation with a cieling fan going at full speed. i also am just getting impatient with myself like... i wanna get to the action already!!!! anyway guys how would u feel about a little timeline explanation? like i said this is post canon for the turtles and they're personalities/actions may be a little different because of that. leo is a lot more tired and blunt, raph is more tempered, mikey is optimistic but his high energy is a little more reigned in. donnie is more unhinged and probably less social because he's been stuck in a lab with asshole human soldiers for over a year LMAO

also so sorry for the inconsistencies in my style atm i am still getting used to drawing robots (i could draw blurr from memory though... guh he is NOT GETTING CUBED IN THIS AU!!!!)

ty for reading ♡ ～('▽^人)

[ryemiffie]

Ughgungukshicnekfjekej.

Why have you done this to me :' (

Okay, okay, so.. Raph is an emotionally volatile teenager with anger problems, grappling with a sense of insufficiency and inferiority. He copes by being overly abrasive to the point that his siblings often avoid him. They love him, but don't like walking on eggshells.

The only one who clings to him regularly and without hesitation is his annoying little brother. Mikey has is own problems with feeling insufficient and inferior, but copes instead by being mindlessly friendly and avoidant of all negativity to the point of unhealthy escapism.

So there's... like... there's this special bond between them. They are by no means each other's therapist, but they have a slight effect in balancing each other out. Raph teases Mikey most, but is also most protective of him out of all his siblings.

And then at the end of season 2, when Raph thinks their father has been killed, he goes into a full fledged rage-filled emotional breakdown to the point that Michelangelo is afraid he'll hurt himself. When Mikey tries to snap him out of it Raph turns on him with his fist upraised, but Michelangelo doesn't even flinch??? He just wraps his arms around his brother's neck and tells him everything will be okay until he calms down and Raph does calm down! he buries his face into his little brother's shoulder and I just-

[forgetful-nerd]

God help 2012! Raph or MM! Raph if they ever had to deal with 2003! Leo because I’m pretty sure, out of all the Leo’s, he would be the least able to take them seriously.

Not because he doesn’t see them as capable fighters.

But because all he sees is cute, miniature versions of his hotheaded brother.

Any insults/temper flares would just be met with a little chuckle and a head pat as 2003! Leo reminisces all the times his Raph’s temper got the better of him.

Also I think 2003! Leo would appreciate having a Raph that’s smaller than him. Especially after 2003! Raph sprouted up after TMNT Fast Forward.

[sweeneydino]

In the weapons of hamato au will the Raph's have a moment like the song "Here comes a thought" from Steven Universe where Rise Raph help 2012 Raph with his temper?

Possibly…

Might have more punching tho, cause that's the raph way--

Ah, emotional repression and outlets.

[milykins]

Dad HCs

This is based on an AU where the guys are all aged up and married with children. I'm a sucker for soft dad moments between them and their little ones.

No warnings necessary, very soft and sweet.

I hope you enjoy!

Mikey:

The one all the kids flock to for snacks. He’ll sneak them treats before dinner too. It drives Leo crazy.

Makes the absolute best pillow forts and organizes cozy movie nights and slumber parties. All the kids sleep in the living room and they love it.

Makes the babies laugh every time without fail.

His own children are little chefs and love helping him around the kitchen. He teaches them all how to cook and bake.

Carries them all effortlessly when they’re small, like a living jungle gym. Children will just suddenly run and jump onto his shell when he’s not looking.

Sings lullabies at bedtime and knows all the best, silly songs to sing for impromptu dance parties. He knows ALL the tiktok dances and loves to make videos with them.

Always wears the feathered boa and the hat for tea parties. When he’s feeling particularly fancy, he’ll put on the best posh British accent that he can do.

Raph:

Tries to be the ‘tough’ uncle and father but ultimately melts whenever they do anything remotely cute or adorable. The littlest one wants to hold his hand and call him ‘uncle waphie’? He’s done.

The little girls have him completely wrapped around his finger and know how to get exactly what they want. If Leo says no, Raph says yes.

The one tossing them into the air and giving the wives (and Leo) a heart attack.

Encourages them to take risks and face their fears. They want to try doing the dangerous thing? He’ll be there to support them and make sure they don’t hurt themselves.

Teaches them martial arts along with Leo but also wrestling and kick-boxing when they’re older.

Teaches the kids (especially his sons) the right way to show their feelings and not to bury their emotions. He’s trying to break the cycle and open healthy lines of communication.

Teaches the kids (especially his daughters) to not take crap from anyone. He teaches them to be tough because the one thing that terrifies him more than anything is something bad happening to his girls because he didn’t prepare them enough.

Sings lullabies to the babies when he thinks no one is watching.

Leo:

The only one who can calm them all down. Mikey’s kids when they’re over-excited and Raph’s hot-tempered ones when they’re angry.

Starts their ninja training from a young age, instilling the values of discipline, honour, speed, and agility. He finds he loves it. The little ones, especially his own, are so eager to learn, and it warms his heart.

Pretends he doesn’t notice when they fall asleep during meditation.

Teaches them how to read and write Japanese. He also teaches Japanese calligraphy to those who wish to learn.

Teaches them how to work through their feelings, adding onto what Raph is doing.

Sometimes feels like he’s the ‘boring’ uncle but the children all gravitate to his calm energy. Sometimes one of children will come over in a huff and sit next to him like a little ball of anger. After a little while they’ll get up and go back to what they were doing noticeably calmer than before.

Sings lullabies in Japanese.

Donnie:

The fun science experiment uncle and father. He’s eager to teach and they’re eager to learn.

The children will all crowd around him with little goggles and lab coats eager to do science with him.

They gravitate to him as well because he’s so quiet and calm, similar to Leo.

Will be hyper-focused on his work and suddenly discover a sleeping child in his lap.

Educates them in the case that they cannot attend school due to their appearance.

Helps them with homework and projects in the case that they can attend school.

Also teaches basic medical first aid when they’re older.

Teaches them that a strong mind is just as important as being outwardly strong.

The go-to for quiet cuddles and hugs.

Loves reading to them at bedtime, sparking an interest and love of reading in many of the children.

Taglist

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

Please ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[imagionationstation]

wh hey no wait a minute STOP IT IS🫵 DONT DO THIS TO ME RN

@craacked-splatters Okay I won’t do this to you…

…I’m putting a line here don’t click the line so it’s not my fault!

If you do click the line it is entirely on you for having no self control also, no, I am not a hypocrite in case anyone is wondering :)

FOR ALL OF YOU WHO CLICKED THE LINE

The whole experience would be kinda nuts for the Canon boys because they now have a feral Donnie but at least the Canon boys would have full comprehension of how and why!

F!Donnie would find himself surrounded by his brothers and maybe he’d have some inclination that something happened to him, but these are his brothers standing in front of him. They look exactly the same and in a few ways their mannerisms are the same so F!Donnie is going to be more confused than anything until someone sits down with him to explain things which the C!Brothers won’t do for a long time because he’s kinda. Well, to them, he’s kinda stupid.

When you find a pet in the yard, you don’t try to communicate with it about what’s going on, you take it home and stick somewhere so it doesn’t get lost until you can find the owners.

He’s not actively ignored but they don’t speak to him like his brothers do. They talk at him, or around him, or they just kinda acknowledge him with awkward smiles and comments. F!Donnie’s Raph, Mikey, and Leo- they talk to him like they talk to anyone else. But the Canon brothers are used to super, intrinsically smart Donnie so F!Donnie is just. A weird copy that they don’t know what to do with.

And if that’s not bad enough, the brothers aren’t the traumatized children who grew up into adults. C!Leo isn’t pulled into himself, C!Raph doesn’t feel the need to latch, and C!Mikey is totally and uterally carefree with zero bounderies. F!Donnie can feel comfortable with that trauma as a fellow traumatized individual.

C!Leo treats F!Donnie like a domesticated animal. He feeds him, pats his head, smiles openly, and is completely comfortable being nervous or silly with his brothers. He doesn’t feel the need to micromanage F!Donnie’s activities, but he is quick to snap his head off if he’s annoyed, while F!Donnie’s brother is always so uptight that he hardly ever scolds or yells at F!Donnie. F!Donnie always knows what’s allowed because his Leo will always make it clear to him.

Despite being needy for attention after years of neglect, F!Donnie adapted to his family because they were always somewhat subdued. But this C!Mikey isn’t worn down from years of keeping his family content with one another, he’s a ball of energy with little to no responsibility on his plate. He’s perfectly happy to tackle him into bear hugs and get into F!Donnie’s personal space with no warning and blast music or the tv at great risk to the speakers.

While F!Donnie’s Mikey had his bouncy moments every now and then, this C!Mikey has bundles of energy that is incredibly overwhelming for F!Donnie to be around. He’s okay with it for a bit but he quickly gets stressed out because he’s not used to high-energy situations unless his life is in immediate danger.

AND RAPH. OH, C!RAPH IS THE WORST.

F!Donnie’s Raph had developed a pattern of losing things (F!Donnie as a toddler and Spike as a child) so all he sees in F!Donnie is a sad little uwu who needs to be taken care of. And he does NOT intend to fail another time which tends to make him more patient and affectionate towards F!Donnie than possibly anyone else.

But C!Raph could not care LESS about F!Donnie since he is not his Donnie and is a complete and utter weirdo. He doesn’t like when F!Donnie follows him around and he doesn’t like it when he enters his bedroom and he refuses to touch him more than necessary. He basically gives F!Donnie the cold shoulder for the majority of their time together and it leads to F!Donnie doing a lot of sulking.

Honestly, the first time that C!Raph loses his temper on F!Donnie would be completely traumatizing. Especially if he’s having a hard time understanding why his brothers aren’t acting right.

But, even if he does understand in some capacity that they aren’t his brothers, it’s still going to severally mess with his head.

After all, that’s Raph. Everything good in Donnie’s life happened after he met his Raph. He’s the one thing that F!Donnie can always depend on- the first thing or person that has ever made F!Donnie feel totally secure. The constant in his universe is that Raph is kind and good and a safe haven. For him to yell ruthlessly at Donnie would destroy the pillars of his entire worldview.

I don’t know if he could ever fully recover from that.

Imagining dropping Feral Donnie into the canon universe because of some kind of… switcheroo shenanigans.

And the ‘lil guy just. Doesn’t understand his brothers anymore

[kraangdroidz]

I really enjoy looking at Donatello's characterisation - especially the 2012 version of Donnie.

I don't know why, but something specifically about the 2012 iteration of our favourite brothers draws me to them. Maybe it's because I think they have the most interesting and unhealthy brother dynamic to explore out of any version of the Turtles. But just to say right off the bat, I don't agree with the statement that Raphael is abusive toward Mikey in this version. I don't think this to be true at all.

But in the 2012 version of Donnie, I think it's the obsessional aspect of his character that I find interesting. People flame him hard for it - which is very valid - the way he treated April was very creepy, and some of the things he did April had no knowledge of, (Like Donnie taking a photo of her and having it as his laptop wallpaper). But I like doing a little more when it comes to characters' less-than-ideal traits. Yeah, what they're doing is bad, creepy, etc. But why exactly might they be acting that way?

For Donnie, I think his problem is how he looks.

In the 2012 iteration, we never really see the turtles have a strong desire to be human. Mikey sometimes doesn't understand that humans will be scared of him, but he never lashes out and has a big moment like, 'I want to be a human so I can make more friends!' We see Mikey wonder what he'd look like as a human in an episode after Donnie creates retromutagen - with Mikey assuming if he used retromutagen on himself he'd turn human and not back into a regular turtle.

It is played as a joke, though, and he doesn't seem genuinely upset by the fact he's stuck as a turtle, as he is seen smiling after saying he wondered what he'd look like.

Interestingly enough, Donnie is the one to be portrayed as having a negative view attached to being a mutant more than any of his brothers.

Outside of being a mutant, it is implied that Donnie already has a fragile self-image anyway.

Remember the episode Turtle Temper? I think it's the third episode of the first season. But at one point, the other turtles are instructed to shoot arrows at Raph, while Raph has to try and avoid the arrows. Splinter makes it clear, however, that Mikey, Leo, and Donnie are allowed to insult Raphael during the exercise.

I've seen another content creator say that the insults they throw at Raphael could be more them self-projecting views they have on themselves rather than them actually thinking these things about their brother. Leo says, 'And you're always whining, poor me, nobody understands me.'

While this is easily applicable to Raph as an insult from Leo - Leo does have his own fair share of moments where he has gone to Splinter complaining that the others aren't listening to him or respecting him, that they don't understand the burden he has to hold as leader.

Mikey tells Raph he moves like a bloated buffalo - which, although never hinted at in the show, could imply that maybe Mikey is insecure about how much he eats. Maybe his brothers have made comments about his greediness.

Donnie says, 'Oh! You can't keep your back straight during Omote kote Gyaku! And you're ugly!'

I think the first part is interesting as Donnie is the tallest out of his brothers - gangly limbs could mean Donnie has more difficulty knowing how to stand, how to sit, so on so forth. A lot of tall people can feel really awkward as a result of their height.

Donnie most likely is sat over a desk all day, and again, being tall, Donnie has more of a slouched posture out of his brothers. I think it was Karai that also insults Donnie in an episode by calling him scrawny, in which he responds, 'And I'm not scrawny! I'm svelte!' Svelte meaning slender and elegant.

Raph has also insulted Donnie's looks before in an episode, and again, it is unclear if this is a common occurrence, but knowing 2012 Raph's character, it's probably happened on more than one occasion.

Donnie : And why do you keep grabbing me by the face? What is wrong with my face?!

Raph: Do you want me to list the reasons alphabetically or in descending order of grossness?

So regardless of being mutated or not, it seems Donnie just has a generalised lack of confidence and some issues surrounding how tall he is.

But to his issues regarding being mutated.

Donnie might've previously not had any issues with being a mutant. Before, it might've been just a general lack of confidence, as I have already said. But in society, looks are always seen as a good trait to possess if you want to have any shot at a love life. You need to fit into the beauty standards and be attractive if you want a partner.

Before April, his brothers would've been the only thing to compare himself to. He lived in a home with only mutants for fifteen years of his life - so had normal teenager issues of going through puberty and insecurities. A lot of people can feel odd/uncomfortable and dislike their growth spurts, which is why Donnie's issues at first might seem like normal things for a teenager to worry about. Donnie's biggest issue would've been how scrawny and lanky he saw himself.

But when they meet April, there is a glaring difference.

Suddenly, there is somebody in his life who isn't a mutant like him. It becomes abundantly clear to Donnie that from somebody else's standpoint, their biggest issue with him wouldn't be his tooth gap or his height, but just the plain fact that he's so different. Inhuman. Out of the ordinary. A mutant.

When he's rambling to Timothy (Mutagen Man at this point) about why April might be on a date with some punk kid (Casey) the conclusion he resorts to is, 'Because he's human, that's why.'

At the end of the episode A Foot Too Big, when Donnie apologises to April, he says, 'I'm just... a mutant.' Again, this shows Donnie jumps to the conclusion that this is why April doesn't want to be with him, not his overbearing nature or the fact that she just genuinely might not be interested. The problem in Donnie's mind is that he's mutated.

The fact that Donnie used the word 'just' implies that being a mutant is all that Donnie has boiled himself down to. He thinks that his other traits aren't worthwhile or good - like him being funny, smart, inventive - because he thinks that nobody would pay attention to those aspects of his personality. At the end of the day, he thinks nobody will be able to see him outside of being a monster.

In Fungus Humungous, the hallucination of April that Donnie experiences calls him an 'ugly mutant freak'. It is unlikely April actually thinks this of Donnie, but it's what Donnie thinks she does because it's his biggest fear. I'd like to split Donnie's hallucination into two parts. April insulting Donnie about being a mutant, and Donnie's hallucination of April kissing Casey.

We see April kissing Casey. I think the fact that this part of the hallucination comes second is meant to represent this fear of rejection and insecurity surrounding being a mutant are two sides of the same coin. His fear of April choosing Casey is a by-product of his main insecurity. We are shown April calling Donnie an 'ugly mutant freak' first. Donnie isn't afraid to lose April as a person to Casey. He's afraid of losing his only hope at feeling confident to Casey.

In the first half of the hallucination, it shows that April uses a sharp tongue like a whip.

This tongue is shown to go through Donnie's heart and subsequently breaks it.

"To have a sharp tongue" means to be quick to criticize, speak harshly, or make cutting remarks; essentially, someone who is often unkind or sarcastic with their words.

I think this represents that, over anything, it is April's words that break his heart more than her actions. It is her disgust at him being a mutant that shatters him. It's what makes him crack in the episode. He starts screaming, runs away, and shouts that he, 'doesn't want to hear anymore.' This is Donnie's breaking point. Her sharp tongue and words, over her actions like kissing Casey, that is Donnie's true biggest fear.

Donnie doesn't want to be with April purely because he loves her. To Donnie, it would be more than April simply making a choice on who to partner up with. It would be confirmation for Donnie that the issue all along was because he's a mutant.

The point I'm trying to make is that Donnie is more obsessed with trying to improve his own self-image than he is obsessed with April as a person.

He wants to use April as a means to prove someone could love him despite appearances because, as I said earlier, looks are important to a lot of people. Gaining a romantic partner would most likely grant Donnie the confidence, the consolidation that he 'isn't ugly after all' because someone managed to fall in love with him. That is why he so desperately chases after April.

He chases after the feeling of confidence.

His character kills me.

[dylniz]

TMNT MUTANT REIGN: DONATELLO

Personality: Somehow as temperamental as Raph, tho less aggressive about it. He has kind of a complex, thinking that his smartness makes him better than most. Extremely emotionally stunted, and not very good with understanding his own feelings. He cares, of course he does, hates expressing it. He finds mentally unchallenging people very boring, which is why he enjoys being around people who can hold a good debate. Also the sassiest out of all the brothers. They bully him for being a shut-in loser. Doesnt care if people don’t take an interest in his science, he takes it as a sign that they’re beneath him.

Clashes the most with Raph, they’re called the temper twins. They’re pretty similar attitude wise, but because they’re so brains vs brawns, when they clash, they clash HARD.

Love-hate relationship with April. On one hand, he doesn’t find her boring, she actually challenges him intellectually, and shes clearly smart. On the other hand she makes him feel inferior at times (his own insecurities speaking), challenges theories he’s confident in and they argue a lot as they’re both stubborn and proud of themselves.

Fighting abilities: Least talented in fighting amongst his brothers, but makes up for it with gadgets and plans. Besides ninjutsu, his preferred form of martial art is Brazilian jiu jitsu. Sneaky fighter, prefers tricking opponents rather than overpowering them.