#donatello centric

[innqufocus]

decided to tackle the bad things happen bingo for my ao3 tmnt 2k12 series Another Voice. i try to avoid giving all the cliches to one character, so hopefully this visual reflects that.

key:

🟣 = Donnie

🟦 = Leo

🔴 = Raph

⭐️ = Mikey

[innqufocus]

official sketches of the crew of the Insight are complete, here’s the first three! details below the cut

left: Kinra Shiksa, one of the medical technicians aboard the Caandensaurian vessel the Insight. he’s the kindest, gentlest soul this side of the universe with a natural bedside manner and compassion for all living things. he’s technically the second in command of the doctors and is considered a general practitioner amidst his peers. scales: midnight blue bioluminescence: pale yellow age: 220 Earth years song: Serene, by Tarja Turunen

middle: Giltoth Duri’n, the toughest (and largest) of the Caandensaurian security guards. his dedication and loyalty led to him being volunteered by his peers to be the Ship Master’s personal guard. his strength is only matched by his instinct to protect his people and his compassion for his Ship Master. scales: cool blue-green bioluminescence: orange-yellow age: 201 Earth years song: Beside You, by Marianas Trench

right: Vaftoph Hortha, the current Ship Master (ship captain) of the Insight and democratically elected leader of his people. while he lost the genetic lottery for size, Vaftoph definitely won for his skill and prowess, as well as his incredibly powerful telepathic abilities. he hardly uses them, preferring to solve problems diplomatically rather than with his powers.  scales: warm blue bioluminescence: yellow-green age: 199 Earth years song: Everything I Wanted, by Social Repose

[lunalovecomics]

"I'm proud of you, son, my dear Donatello"

Of course Donnie loved praise. He yearned for it. Those words were likeprecious pieces of uranium. But, that was exactly it, they used to be rare. They once had been something they would obtain once every year, if they were even lucky.

Donatello had tried more than once to gain such favor, even managing to gain the title 'the funny one'. And yet here he stood, analyzing every word in his graph titled 'Praise from father'. The spike had remained consistent, there was more of it in the last 5-6 years... Of course, this might have to do with the fact the turtles almost died in multiple occasions, or even the fact that Splinter went to a therapist in the hidden city (not consistently enough, but hey, something was something).

Donnie should be happy, logically, this was a good thing. Praise=good. Father acting like a dad=good. Father paying attention=good. These were positives, he was well aware. And yet... A sigh escaped his lips as he fiddled with his pen. It felt, off... No, ODD. Not wrong, nor suspicious, just... Confusing.

A once neglectful father, now was being so attentive and caring. The man began to make tea and coffee for them began to show interest and say how proud he was. He took interest in their creative endravors, things that had nothing to do with the ninja lifestyle. There was no more broken promises, to the point that splinter would get mad, even anxious, if one of his son's decided to tell him no or even mention that they wanted Splinter to rest instead of going out (because the man sometimes was tired and they worried he might faint).

Of course Don knew Splinter was feeling guilty and that's why he got mad. after all, the rat was well aware of how many times he lied or broke promises when they were younger and was working on correcting that mistake. But the thing was, at least for Donnie, they were used to this. It was routine, 'dont trust dad when he promises, he won't deliver'. Now, that rule wasn't factual anymore. The pattern didn't fit.

Donnie grit his teeth, frustration bubbling within him. Not knowing, not understanding... FEELINGS. He hated this... Uncertainty. He liked the loving words and praise from his father... But his father had once established a pattern of not being, well... A dad. If Donnie, when younger, made an invention that could help Splinter make his life easier the answer was always 'keep it up' or 'expected from you purple'. Not 'how I ever told you how proud I am of you?', 'youre wonderful Donatello', 'thank you, I love you'.

Donatello's hands moved faster as he drew. Mikey was the colorful artist that made amazing things, but Donatello drww and wrote. His things were done with pens or ink, black and white, just like he liked to see life. Everything in a certain order, with values instead of color theory that would confuse him. His works were private. His works were unseen. Donnie was unsure how comfortable he was about keeping it secret though, the reactions he saw from his father when Mikey made a new art piece, and the beautiful comic books based on Hamato Yoshi's life, had a positive reaction.

Fuck. Now he was envying his little brother. Another illogical emotion to add to the list. Donnie knew he was contradicting himself, he wanted more praise, but unsure that he wanted it at the expense of established routine. Donnie always wanted a caring father from fiction or psychology books, but that was just it, he was comfortable with the fantasy. They weren't supposed to exist... And yet, here his own dad was being one.

He knew Splinter had been neglectful and borderline harsh to them because of trauma. He didn't have much of a parental reference. And Splinter had been thrown into taking care of four infant turtles out of the blue, add to it, the fact that his ex did a bunch of fucked up stuff? Point was, Donnie didn't resent him from being absent. He resented him for multiple times putting them in danger. He resented him, for changing routine, for being less predictable.

But most of all, Donnie resented himself. Because he knew he was being unfair, illogical, and in denial. He knew feelings made no sense. Nothing was perfect, and it shouldn't be. Yet, Donnie still insisted. Why was splinter acting like a father, why now? Why?

He gazed down at the inked illustration he had made. Him and splinter. Father and son, bonding together under a cherry tree. That wouldn't happen, it was fiction. And yet, he knew where to find a cherry tree... He knew he could convince splinter to come and sit with him, tell him stories while he tinkered under it.

The fantasy was posible. And that made him uncomfortable.