Behind This Mask

1 - Comics

story concept/idea not originally mine! kinda adopted/stole this from @ devilgirl2006 and saw it was free for people to adapt onto if they wanted, so here i am. ive been itchin to write a rottmnt thingy for ages and this just seemed like the best option to get used to writing them. anywho i hope yall enjoy reading u h buh bye

sorry if this feels rushed agh
read warnings in desc pls!

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  An annoying, high pitched and repetitive noise rung through the soft-shell's room, raising him from his slumber. Donnie let out a groan, burying his head beneath his pillow. When the action resulted in only a slight muffle to his alarm, he stuck an arm out towards his dresser and felt around for the snooze button. After several failed attempts he gave up instead held his hand back, swinging it over his desk and he sent the alarm clock flying across the room. It hit the far wall with a loud crack and Donnie winced. I'm gonna regret that later, he thought as he sat up.
  He got up slowly, dragging his feet across his cold floor. The turtle donned his normal purple attire, contemplating by the entrance to his room as a conversation flowed through the lair outside. Every morning Donnie would jot down what he felt like in the mornings and how he predicted the day would go. It wasn't meant to mean anything, he just got into the habit of doing it. This morning he felt strange when he thought about it. Strange in a way oneself can't quite feel or predict what would happen. Actually, it was like this most days. But something inside the turtle was tugging on his shell, begging him to not leave the lair today. Of course, he pushed the feeling and thoughts away and scribbled down how he felt the day was going to go. The turtle tossed his journal back onto his desk, turning and leaving his room.

  He peeked through the tarp-curtain like entrance to his room, looking around. Seeing no one, he yawned before hopping out and making his way to the kitchen. Donnie passed through the TV room where Splinter was. The rat didn't appear to acknowledge his son, nothing new, Donnie was used to this from his family on occasion. Mostly from Splinter, though. The fat rat was transfixed on his show as the actors danced around on screen, shouting, etc. Just the things Dad liked. Donnie had slowed his pace when walking into and through the room, hoping he'd be noticed by his father/mentor, but to no avail. He sighed, speeding up as he exited.
  Donnie found his way to the kitchen and saw his three brothers, Leo and Raph seemingly fighting over the last slice of leftover pizza. Donnie let his lips turn to a tired smile, looking at his younger brother Mikey who was watching the fiasco. The softshell walked to their cupboard, which was mostly empty except for stale cereal and things like that. He frowned, brow furrowed. "We should really get groceries..." he yawned whilst speaking the sentence quietly, mostly to himself as he reached out to grab an apple from the available contents.

"Hey, mornin' D! Sleep well?" Raph greeted his brother at last, seeming to have won the little dispute. Donnie turned around, chewing a bit off of the green fruit. He shrugged.
  "Fine."

His voice was always monotone. He couldn't help that most of the time. This made him feel like he was doing something wrong, but he never allowed himself to think about it too much. He knew it'd only hurt him more. His brothers also always seemed put off whenever he answered in that tone. The tone of someone who's completely uninterested in speaking, breathing or existing near you. Who's completely ignorant of your life, who's an actor on the stage of life. Donnie hated that. He hated how his brothers didn't even try to hide discomfort or disturbance from his voice.
  Of course, he'd gotten used to it. That was the bad part.
  Donnie shook his head, taking another bite of the apple. He looked at his brothers. Leo was sulking, overreacting entirely. Donnie finished his apple and tossed the core at his brothers head, not staying behind to hear him shout.

The lair was dark for the most part. It reeked of sewer and musk to anyone who was in there for the first time. The turtles got used to it though. This was their home, after all.
That fact didn't stop Donnie wishing it were a little less damp, though.