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sun-snatcher · 2 months ago

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May i have a blurb of Haytham Kenway… a taste… pretty please…

( all credits to @giffedit for this incredible gifset! )

✠ | insufferable ; haytham kenway

summ. Bickerings oft lead to equally heated conclusions. a/n. A TASTE you say? Here’s 1k of an angry, enemies-to-questionable-allies makeout. No actual smut, but NSFW themes, ofc.

YOU CAN’T RECALL how you got here.

Here, by way of meaning:

Pinned against Templar Grandmaster Haytham Kenway’s paper-strewn work desk, inkpot spilled over and staining the cuffs of your sleeves, with his hands roving down your sides and your hips pressed hard against his.

“You,” he rasps, bordering a growl. “Are an insufferable woman.”

The proximity, the heat of your panting mingling with his— it’s blistering. Feverish. You want to kiss him. You want to punch him.

You tighten the bracket of your thighs around his waist, tip the tricorn hat off his head with a defiant scowl. “You should’ve never inducted me into your Order, then, Master Kenway.”

Right. Yes. You vaguely remember now. It’d been yet another typical heated argument; another disagreement and row borne from dredging up old wounds of your ex-Assassin history, of Haytham’s present and obvious distaste of it, despite the fact you’ve proven yourself worthy to the Templars more than once alongside Shay.

Earlier, you’d barely finished your tirade (“You and your dastardly cloak make me so—!”), hands thrown in the air when the ironclad grip of Haytham abruptly circled your wrist.

The others had known better than to interfere when you’d practically been yanked into the Grandmaster’s study for an upbraiding.

Or, well, what they thought would be an upbraiding.

“Then let us be free of this months-long tension,” Haytham had hissed, instead. “More productively.”

So here you are. Rough-housed and man-handled. You hitch at the bumps and the scolding nips he makes, try to return the same wanton fervor to his jaw and his Adam’s apple, but to no avail. Haytham is a looming shadow, greater than you not just by rank and experience but by sheer, dizzying strength—

The vicious kisses he bullies against the bitten-red of your lips are charged and ardent. Meant to force you into some semblance of submission; to be docile. Has you gasping for air and resisting him the satisfaction of a moan when he gropes at the flesh of your thighs.

“Master Kenway,” you choke, nuzzling into the slope of his neck, unable to stop yourself from indulging the heady, masculine, salt of it with an eager tongue.

He groans at the high and tight way you address, call, plead for him, sounding like prey at the mercy of an untamed, starved beast.

It makes you grin when you realise. Coy as a fox and full of guile. Haytham can feel it curl across his cheek, in your slow languorous tease as you snark, “And here I thought you hated me.”

“Hate is an inadequate term,” he censures, mouthing hot and humid against your skin. “There are no words in any bloody language that can encompass just how— you make me feel.”

It’s a raw confession, as mean and as bitten out as it is. A honeyed, double-edged sword. You make a mental note of it anyway, and try not to contemplate the fact that you have this much power over the Grandmaster Templar, nor let it get to your head— whatever he means by his words.

“And what, exactly, do you feel?” Your hand expertly wanders past his belt. The innocent petal-touch strikes a lightning bolt of want surging through him. Makes him twitch. “This?”

Haytham doesn’t deign to give you an answer, unsurprisingly. He hates not being in control, after all, and so he makes quick work to put you back in your place: below rank, through yet another savage kiss, a guttural warning nosed on the scant space just below your ear that leaves you subconsciously keening closer.

It does poorly to satiate him. The dangerous yen for something more brutal still burns molten in his stomach; something that tastes warmer. There’s still the bitter anger and bruised pride he holds from the arguments before, and for the ones that’ll surely come after. The blatant disrespect you show whenever you bare your teeth at him, as if he isn’t your superior.

He wants— no, needs— to sink into you, to see you shut up and aching to be ruined with the thick of him—

“I’ll make you wear nothing but this ‘dastardly’ cloak of mine one day,” Haytham grinds out, voice rough-hewn from his wet and growing appetite. “And then spread you out and take my time with you.”

He greedily licks a stripe up your throat as he says it, carves the whine that escapes you into his memory.

“One day?” Your scoff is breathless and stilted. The feel of his teeth grazing your jugular is intoxicating. “I reckon you’ll— hah— hardly deliver now, Master Kenway, to— warrant another chance after this.”

(Regardless, you entertain the idea. Have entertained, to be more specific. You’ve imagined what it’s like on lonelier nights.

To have him hike your legs up his broad shoulders, tangle your fingers through his perfectly kempt hair. Catch the flash of his wry, canine-sharp smile, rare as they are; face soaked and telling over his nose and down his lips from where you’d have shut him up by forcefully burying him between your thighs and cushioning into your—)

You expect the usual blaze of anger. A challenging snarl. Instead:

“Oh?” Haytham laughs.

Laughs.

And Christ alive— that dark, daring and depraved rumble huffed at your sweat-slicked nape shouldn’t have made you more pliant; more eager for him, but it does. It feels like the damning prelude of an already losing war, now, the way he’s forced your full weight down with such frightening ease onto the desk to look up at him.

There’s an ominous calm before a storm, brewing frostily in his dilated eyes. He’s conceding, you realise.

And then—

“Tell me to stop,” Haytham breathes.

It’s the least insulting tone he’d taken with you yet since you’d first begun arguing. A fragile moment of clarity.

In uncharacteristic tenderness, you feel him thumb gently at your cheek. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, “You have my word.”

Something soft unfurls deep in your ribcage. Takes flight.

“Don’t,” you whisper, trying not to shudder at the English gentlemanly-ness he so likes to wholly fashion himself with to hide his wild, beastly nature— that you’ve so liked to repeatedly claim you found irksome. You tighten your grip reflexively.

(Darling, dearest, dove. You never admit it, but the classy posturing has always been an attractive feat of his. Something about wolves in sheep’s clothing, you think. Something about being rabidly taken for his own animalistic pleasure—)

“Don’t you dare, Kenway.”

And so the delicate moment passes. Haytham surges his head forward to steal a kiss from you again, inhales a lungful of your cloying scent that’s mixed with the sea-winds from the weeks of sailing aboard the Morrigan.

“Mh,” he hums in assent, nosing his way from your hairline down to the juncture of your neck; letting his calloused hand mould wide around the thin, bare skin of it to feel your bated breath and rapid pulse. He could snuff you out like a light in an instant. (And he supposes you like the thrill of that as much as he does.)

“Then I believe I ought to teach you a lesson or two about respect, dear.”

Haytham pulls away and cocks his head. As if thinking. As if he hadn’t imagined this a hundred times over since he’d met you, in the darkest hour of every restless night when he’s alone with nothing but his fist jerking between his legs.

“How about we put that smart mouth of yours to good use first?”

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vigilante24ish · 6 months ago

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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Words: 1699

Chapter 3

The sun had almost set by the time you found yourself in Westview, the paper with Agatha's adress tucked into your pants' pocket.

You walked the empty road, feeling eyes on you behind pulled curtains. The neighbours were uneasy, having chosen to lock themselves into their houses; but you could not blame them.

If what Agatha said was true and had managed to gather a coven, those poor people must have seen a few odd figures heading the same way as you.

Witches could not help it. They always had this aura, making them easier to stand out. Sometimes, their energy was enough to make someone have this uneasy feeling deep within their guts; though being as ignorant to the supernatural, they could never truly understand why.

At last, you reached the house that seemed to belong to Agatha.

The first thing you noticed was the lack of a door, but you speculated that some unfriendly visitor had found Agatha earlier that day. It would explain this sudden and urgent need to go down the Road in such short notice.

Stepping inside, you could hear voices in the background; indicating that you might be the last one to arrive. Your eyes barely glanced at the rather odd decoration of the house. None of it was screaming Agatha; you knew cause you had lived with her even for a short amount of times.

"Wait," you heard the voice of the teenage boy calling, putting a pause at the overlapping voices of the other witches. "We are one witch short," he pointed out, clearly talking about you.

You decided to make yourself present by letting your steps sound a little harder against the wooden floor, earning different pair of eyes on your form.

"No, you are not," you corrected him, one hand in your pocket.

You quickly scanned the room, sensing the different magical signatures while quickly studying them as well.

They were very different from one another, from their ages to their outfits and, of course, their magic affinity.

Yet again, it was often needed for a coven to be diverse. Though you could not help but wonder if such intense diversity would actually work, the tension between the witches and Agatha was thick enough to almost be visible.

"Sugar," Agatha greeted with a small smirk, not caring that she used your nickname in public.

She never hesitated to do it before, even though you had tried to argue a lot of times. You preferred privacy, and such nicknames, in your opinion, should exist behind close rooms and during intimate moments between two people.

Of course, Agatha never truly took into consideration your opinion and continued. There was something powerful, possessive even when she was the only one to call you such a name. Not to mention, it showed others that in a way, you were hers; some sort of invisible claim that warned others not to test their luck.

Agatha had not changed ever since, at least with that part. Despite the years you two had spent away, despite the rather unknown nature of your relationship; she still kept claiming you, often impressing even herself with ways she could find.

She studied you for a moment as your eyes connected and took notice of your outfit. While other witches chose dresses, skirts, or hippie pants; you went to the other side of the spectrum.

You had chosen a white professional shirt whose shade was bright enough to draw attention from afar. However, that was the only white thing on you.

Your buttoned up vest had white lines, but the base was black, a matching shade with your well tailored pants. Even your tie was at the colour of black, giving you a more unisex and professional look.

Needles to say you had impressed her, since for centuries you were a big fan of simple white clothing. You barely chose any other colour to wear, always having a strong connection to the bright shade.

Yet here you were now, the dark on you, almost fully covering you; the darkness of your solitude and hurt past casting a shadow to your once brighter and naive self.

It tempted Agatha, curious for a moment to test your reaction by having her hand drag across your body; testing if you would stop her when she would try unbutton your vest and take off your tie...oh, and what she could do to you with that tie.

The intense staring and sudden silence had drawn curious looks on you, some wondering what your connection to the dark Witch that had gathered them all.

The moment was interrupted by Lilia, who had been watching between the two of you until her mind and gaze trailed off.

"Two of swords!" She gasped, earning everyone's attention on her.

She did not say anything else, as if she was not conscious she had said anything or not. That alone quickly made you realize which role she played in this coven, a divination witch that was always needed in almost every mission; especially one as dangerous as the one you all had chosen to participate in.

Before any more questions or comments could be thrown, Agatha clapped her hands once.

"Well, gang's all here. Let's hit The Road." She said, trying to change the topic.

However, Jen was not done yet. "Wait," she exclaimed, and Agatha immediately knew this was not going to be good. "Where's our Green Witch?"

"Oh, do we really need one of those?"

"Of course we do." Jen argued and then looked at you. "Unless you are a Green Witch, though you definitely don't look like one," She continued, her tone judging you as did their eyes; going up and down your form.

"I am not," you corrected her, unfazed by her gaze.

You had this passive expression on your face, a cold mask that nothing could truly penetrate. Your aura was calm but hid danger behind it, like a dark peaceful sea whose waters were far deeper than they looked; dangerous creatures lurking within, waiting.

Your answer only fueled the argument between Jen and Agatha, one insisting on the importance of a Green Witch and the other arguing there was no need.

Eventually, Teen joined by referring to one member they had not invited from the list; a black heart.

This made you arch an eyebrow and look at Agatha, who at that moment did the mistake of looking at you as well.

Once again, you quickly saw right through her facade and saw both the fear and annoyance she tried so hard to hide. Whoever this black heart meant to represent was a deep scar from Agatha's past; one she did not wish to bring up.

In the end, Agatha left; excusing herself she was going to bring back the last member so they could all start the ritual and open the door to the Road.

The moment she left, the main attention fell on you; each individual in the room had different thoughts, but you were part of all of them.

In the end, it was the boy who chose to speak up. "Wait, I am confused." he even lifted his hand, like a student asking permission from the teacher to voice his question. "Jen is Potions, Lilia is Divination, Alice is Protection... what are you?"

Jen nodded her head. "The boy is right. What are you?"

That judging look once again.

It made you wonder if she looked at others the same or she felt both offended but also threatened by your presence.

It would not be the first time a witch had reacted negatively against you, especially once they realised your affiliation. Your type was not often welcomed, the duality of your nature often a wildcard that no one wished to possess.

"Backup," you explained, choosing to remain vague with your answer.

There was no need to go into detail, at least not now. You barely knew one another, and it was evident there was no trust between any of you. A common goal brought you forward, but it was not kindness or the need to find a coven.

It was selfish, and you knew that too well. Even your reasons for joining could be considered selfish.

After all, no one else chose to walk the Road unless they had a deep selfish goal in mind. Ironically, this one was what was tested the most during the trials that awaited down the Wicked Path.

You turned to the boy, realizing he was still confused by your presence. Sure, your name was on the list, but you did not seem to be part of the main four needed; according to both the Ballad and Agatha.

"To walk down the Road, you need four basic witch paths to help you and also unlock the door. Anything else is extra help, " you explained, your tone slightly softer

You could not help it. Just by seeing into his dark, innocent eyes, your defences dropped. He was a young boy, too young to choose such a path, and it made you wonder what he truly needed to take such a decision.

Jen opened her mouth to argue when Agatha walked into the room, dragging with her an older woman.

You could immediately tell she was a human woman, no drop of magic within her, and something told you the others realised that too.

Looking at Agatha, you saw her silently asking you to remain quiet on the topic, and you obeyed. Though deep down, you could not help but wonder how this would truly work.

A green witch would be needed for the trial, and only after it was passed, she would no longer be of need.

You did wonder how this would work out, but your trail of thoughts was interrupted by the faint sound of a wold howling. Your head immediately snapped to the side, eyes distantly gazing out the window as the darkness of the night covered the sky.

Agatha must have realised it, too, for she clapped her hands yet again. "No time to waste, vamos!" She said and started to walk towards the stairs leading to her basement, leaving you all no choice but to follow.

Chapter 4

#agatha harkness #agatha spoilers #agatha all along #agatha x reader #agatha fanfictiom #feedback is greatly appreciated #let me know if you like it and that I have not butchered any character #will definitely write more chapters later #do not ask me when #scedule unclear #never stable #moon phases fanfic

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nyssasatelier · 4 months ago

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Two things:

1. YOU ARE GORGEOUS 😍

2. YOUR POSEIDON IS ALSO GORGEOUS THAT I WOULD GIVE HIM EVEN MYSELF AS OFFER

Bonus:

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago

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Do you like my art? Do you wish I would draw something specific? Great news!

~COMMISSIONS ARE NOW OPEN!~

If you are interested in commissioning me, please fill out the google form and I'll reach out to you as slots become available!

[Ko-fi - Google Form Link]

#Commission info #PLEASE NOTE ONCE AGAIN: These prices are not USD - these are cheaper than you may think.#I have put a ton of work into this and I am so thankful to everyone who helped me out!#There are still probably bumps I need to iron out as I go but I will try my best. Feedback is very welcome!#If there are a lot of people interested I may have a waitlist but I doubt I'll have that many offers. I'm still pretty new here!#The money I make from this is honestly mostly going to go back into funding this art hobby of mine. Ink is expensive!#Thank you also for all the love and support for my comics. Without it I'd never have the confidence to do commissions.#Even if you can't afford it right now - know I really appreciate it all. From the lurker to the frequent commenter: thank you <3 #Don't worry about the horse by the way. She's just here to keep watch.

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cybersodas · 1 month ago

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Intererest Check…

Hiya RGU fandom!!! So after the post for my revolutionary girl chuchutena art blew up, I wanted to check in and see how you guys might feel if I made this into a sticker sheet 👀

It’s not really something I can order samples on, since it has a pretty big minimum order quota, so the options are I order a bunch of them and out them up for sale, or I open up preorders and fund production with the sales profits like usual!! Would anybody be interested in buying if I did either of these things? I would probably price them at $10.00… Please vote below!!

Your feedback is super appreciated, and as always, thanks for stopping by the Cyberpop Shop! ✨

(Reblogs heavily appreciated 🙏)

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #sku #shoujo kakumei utena #utenanthy #cyberpop shop #im doing an interest check bc lately my product drops havent been doing very well OTL #and I’d like to receive some feedback to figure out what direction I should procede in!!#like i said your feedback is HEAVILY appreciated

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soullessseraphim · 1 year ago

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May I present to you...

My take on a potential Valdemar bath scene

because I am one thirsty slu-

I was standing at the edge of the pool, waiting for them. They contemplated the water for a moment, as I did, listening to its soft ripples. I then started to undress. They did too, but much more slowly. I entered the warm water with a satisfied sigh, looking up at them with a playful smile. The process of unbuttoning their lab-coat seemed tedious, but to them, it was natural. I had never seen them in anything different, so it was already quite strange to watch them take of those long leather gloves of theirs. But it was even more surprising to me to see they weren't wearing anything underneath other than bandages.

They weren't fully wrapped in them, like a mummy would. I think I would've found it even stranger. bits of their green skin appeared here and there, the areas most covered and invisible being mainly their torso. The bandages were more sparse around their elbows and knees, leaving their arms and thighs half covered and their forearms and calves bare. They stepped in the water with me, and I looked at them, still smiling.

It wasn't the typical bathing attire, but it suited them. I was about to speak up, but it didn't look like they wanted to discuss yet, therefore I closed my mouth, tilting my head slightly, in a mix of concern and confusion. They looked right at me, with those red irises that always pierce so easily into my soul. I didn't mind. I got used to sustaining their gaze... But there was something I could see, this time. I couldn't fathom what, but there was an emotion there, other than their usual excitement and morbid curiosity, or the spark that usually accompanies their sinister grin.

They walked one or two steps away from me, pushing a floating flower aside with surprising gentleness before turning to face me. I was about to ask again if anything was wrong, but then... They loosened the bandages, letting them delicately fall off their shoulders and hips and into the bath's water.

I had a feeling they just made me a most precious gift... A sight that few, if any, had seen before. I couldn't help my jaw from going slack and my chest from growing warm as I looked ; delicate droplets of water glided down their skin, nestling near their collarbones.

I looked back up at their eyes, which gauged my reaction. They had not spoken yet. The silence went on for a while as I stared at them, a mixture of feelings flowing through my veins. But overall, I could only say I was moved : they'd trusted me enough to show themselves to me... I found them beautiful. All of them.

"Thank you."

It was all I could say while looking back in their eyes, full of gratitude.

They relaxed ever so slightly, as if they'd been anticipating a more intense reaction on my part. And then they smiled. Not one of their usual unsettling grins, no... A soft smile. A rare instance where the tiny bit of humanity left in them resurfaced. It was another gift in itself. I felt as if I could cry in joy.

They invited me to sit comfortably in a corner of the pool, our bodies half sunken in the water. They let me wrap my arms around their waist and rest my head against their shoulder as we looked at the sun go down behind the horizon. We did nothing but bask in its warmth and let our precious moment sink in.

I knew they wouldn't offer me anything else, and I was perfectly content with that, for I didn't need anything more.

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leafsfromthevine · 1 year ago

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are we about to kiss rn? (based on that one photo... you know the one)

#get so nervous posting art like hahahahahahaha what am i doing #even though art is not my medium i will keep trying. and i will keep practicing <3 #so you are all allowed to point and laugh it is permitted and welcomed and any feedback is appreciated mwah #i just had to put this into the world #anyways!!!#zukka #zukka art #zuko x sokka #zukka fanart #2024 is the year of creating with no shame right

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carrots-bear · 4 months ago

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Fire and Rain, written by Bear(aka me)

A rottmnt au where Donnie is the last survivor of the Kraang-pocalypse and is sent back in time. (More or less the peepaw leo aus, except it's donnie.)

Prologue

A tall, green figure crashed into another green figure with a large, clonky, prosthetic, knocking him out of the way of a Kraang laser. (This second figure was also shorter than the first one.)

“Leonardo, I swear, if it were not for us, then you would have died already,” the first figure said, tears forming in his eyes. He had just watched his little brother disintegrate, giving all of himself to send Casey Junior back in time, so that there might be a future that his stupid, selfless sensei doesn’t lose an arm, that April could have lived longer, that Raphael could have lived longer, that Donatello could still see out of his right eye, have somewhat adequate hearing without an aid, have his lower leg, and actually have his ninpo. I mean is that really so much to ask for? thought the Donnie, as he fought off Kraang dogs and tried to find shelter for them. Well, apparently the universe said yes, yes it is.

He was yanked back to the present when Leo said, “Heh, yeah. But you know that that’s just as true for you, Donald.” He was wearing the dumbest smirk— and bleeding an extremely concerning amount alright alright…alright.

Donatello scanned the area with his mono-ggle¹, and when he found somewhere sufficient, he dragged his brother over, going unnoticed by any enemies, I hope… He laid Leonardo down in the rubble gently, making sure that no stray pieces of metal could further injure him. ”Hold tight, Leo. I am going to get you all fixed up.” But then he looked closely at the wound, and his face tightened in a sort of grimace.

“That bad, ay?”, Leo said, still sporting that same old, dum-dum smirk. He winced when Donnie put pressure on the wound. “Okay, yeah. It’s that bad.”

“Of course it is, you dum-dum! Those Kraang hounds banged you up; it’s a miracle you’re still alive…”, Donnie said as he shook his head.

“How will I ever survive?”, Leonardo said, throwing his head back dramatically and putting his hand up to his forehead.

Donnie’s jaw clenched and he froze a moment, then resumed his work, saying, “Without proper medical attention… you might not.” He grimly whispered the last part, as if doing so would make it less true.

Leo put his hand down and faced towards his twin, though his eyes were looking down at his wound. “I know. But I know that you’ll be with me when it happens, and that was one of my ‘the-Great-Master-Leonardo-is-dying!’ requirements. So yay! You accidentally met one of my requirements, Dee!” He said it with a smile on his face, and Donatello didn’t know how.

“There, that should do,” Donnie said, wiping the crimson liquid on his hand onto a piece of rusty metal nearby. “And don’t joke about that,” he snapped coldly.

“Out of curiosity and boredom though—“

“Boredom?”

Donnie glared and sat down more comfortably beside his twin as he continued. “Yes, boredom; listen to my small talk question. Deep inhale and sigh. What are slash² were your other ‘re-qui-re-ments’?” (In case you were wondering, yes, air-quotes were heavily implied.)

“Well…”, and the brothers talked together for a good long time. Donatello checked how secure their shelter was so that he could sleep and ‘Nardo take watch. Yes, both realized how risky that was, putting the person who was slowly bleeding out on watch, but Donnie made Leo promise to wake him up if anything was happening.

• * • * Two weeks later * • * •

The brothers were on the run from the Kraang. Both were completely unsurprised; this was the Kraang-pocalypse, as some liked to call it, after all. At the moment, Donnie’s heated compression sock for his real foot had stopped working— again, so that’s working out great form him, slowing their pace.

Leo coughed, the running not being very good for his current state. “Donnie, I have a plan, but you might not like it.” He stumbled as he coughed again.

It didn’t take long for Donnie to know what Leo was thinking. ”Oh no, uh-uh, nope, not gonna happen. I don’t know exactly what you’re planning, but I do know it’s gonna be that load of self-sacrificing dirt again.”

As he spoke, Donnie pressed a button on his wrist-tech to activate a cloaking device. They got ahead of the Kraang long enough for Donnie to locate a safe place and get there unnoticed. Donnie eased Leo down. He could tell by what his mono-ggle was telling him, Leo was… Donnie was going to lose… Donnie was going to be an only ‘child’ very soon. His eyes wanted to tear up, but Donnie didn’t want to cry, so he forced them back.

Leo was having trouble breathing as it was, so it didn’t help the situation that he was about to give a speech to his twin. “Donnie, I know you know I’m dying. It’s okay! I have a plan remember?”

“Is that plan you dying, the Kraang killing everything, and sparing me to make my life miserable?”

“Well, I mean, I would prefer it if I could live too. If there was another way, I’d take it, but there’s not. I want you to see the good timeline, so you can tell me about it once you die, probably sitting in a rocking chair and solving the ancient puzzle of— The Rubix Cube. You have to promise me that you’ll come back to us when you die, alright? Not a bunch of Master and Uncle wanna-be’s.”

There was that smirk again. Oh, that smirk. Donnie was going to miss it. Welp, here come the water-works. You couldn’t even hold it in for his— “Wait, why didn’t I point this out before? What do you mean? You can’t actually be planing to send me to the same timeline as Casey Junior. You can barely use you ninpo in this state. That killed Mikey, it’s going to kill you too. I didn’t want to watch my family die before, and I still definitely don’t want to now. Please don’t do this, Leo.” Yup, the water-works have arrived everyone! Aw man, why?! Donatello felt his purple mask absorb the tears. They were coming in an onslaught; it would soon look like he just dipped the lower half of his mask in water. He sniffed and looked away from his brother. Donnie was holding his twin’s hand, just to make sure he was still there; he squeezed it, craving any sort of comfort, yet still unsure how to ask for it.

“Aw, Dee. C’mere.” Leo opened his free arm for a hug, and Donnie gladly took the opportunity, knowing it would likely be the last time for him to do so. They stayed like that for a bit, hugging and crying. Then Leonardo pulled back, slightly reluctantly, and said, “If you want, you can take my mask and katanas…”

Dee looked at his twin’s face for a moment before reaching up to untie the blue mask. He wrapped it around his right hand like a fingerless glove, just above a black choker on his wrist. Then he reached for the strap for the blue-hilted twin katanas.

“Does this mean you’re on board with my plan?”

“I know you’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t go along,” Donnie said grimly as he strapped on the sheath.

“Heh, you—“, Leo was interrupted by another fit of coughs before he could continue. “You got that right, is what I was going to say.” Donatello finished getting his belongings together and thought, My twin is actually insane. I mean, this could work, since Leo does have portaling abilities, and Mikey did it, so I suppose it’s feasible… “You ready, Don?”, Leo asked, interrupting Donnie’s thoughts.

“Yeah, just a few things first. One:” Donnie leaned forwards and hugged his leader again; he hugged back. Donnie pulled back and said, “Two: I know I don’t say it a lot, because, well, y’know, but I hope you know that I do love you, ‘Nardo.”

“Aw, I love you too, Don-Tron.” His tone was playful, but his words and undertone were loaded, so that helped Donnie a lot with suppressing his tears for number three.

“And three….I don’t blame you for this ‘Nardo. Any of this. I never have. The world was resting in the hands of an egotistical child who didn’t even know what was at stake, not to mention you weren’t the one who wanted to open the portal in the first place. We can definitely blame this one on the Foot. I’ll say this one more time, though, because you don’t look like you believe me.” Donatello rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder and said, “I don’t blame you.”

Leo’s eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down his cheek as he said, “I…Thank you, Donnie. I really needed to hear that.”

“I know,” Donnie stated matter-of-factly as he leaned forwards and touched his own forehead to his brother’s as a last goodbye. “Okay,” Donnie sighed. “Now I’m ready.”

Leo nodded and concentrated hard on his ninpo. He summoned all his strength before there was a burst of light, and a crackling, swooshing, blue portal appeared, though it was small at this stage. Well, at least for a seven-foot three-inch tall mutant who had a few extra weapons that he probably didn’t need on him. Leo let out one last battle cry before he disappeared, disintegrating into thin air. Another tear left Donatello’s eye as he watched the portal grow. He put his bō staff in its sleeve and took out the twin katanas, then looked around at the demolished place he had called home all his life. “Good-bye New York of twenty-forty-four. Sigh.” As he stepped into the portal he murmured, “New York, what a town,” and disappeared into— not next week, but roughly one-thousand-one-hundred and forty-four weeks previous³.

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Prologue is out!!!🥳 I have not told the internet about this au, barely at all, yet. I've already written a few chapters, but I'm saving those for a bit.

So, a few things I'd like to note:

Everything is platonic/familial unless otherwise stated.

It is probably going to be extremely hurt-comfort/comfort/fluffy despite it being Donatello-centric, and the main characters being reptiles;) [ho-ho, ha-ha, he-he, I am the Queen of Daughter Dad-Jokes]

I know nearly nothing medical; mostly stuff I hear my dad(a doctor) talk about, stuff in media/books, and the science I do in school

The numbers that you see by the text(e.g. Hello¹) are what I will use as footnotes, more or less

-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-

Footnotes:

Donnie’s goggles meet a monocle

This is Donnie; I made sure the number of weeks were accurate

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Edit: Prologue | Chapter 1

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