In other news- because tbh this other au holds more meaning in my heart (just cuz of how I relate to Donnie the most out of all of the aus), I genuinely am craving for angst with hurt/comfort for Leo Jr au.
sooo time for THOUGHTS
I really am longing for moments with Leo Jr and Donnie, because...hnk- Donnie actually receiving comfort, care, patient understanding and acceptance instead of being told to suck it up or being ridiculed/treated like a ticking time bomb???? Means the world to me????? Idk- I guess my soul just aches for this version of Donnie who didn't get that safe space Leonardo's Donnie did. (i get the au is mainly Leo-centric, but for some reason this version of Don-tron ya created has somehow wormed his way into my heart and he is truly my favorite iteration in terms of aus???)
When I tell you that I felt my heart break over the silly comic where Leonardo says that Leo Jr and Casey Jr are twins, solely due to what that implies to the overall story. In a sense, Leo Jr gets to have variations of the life he would have if he hadn't been kidnapped (by all technicalities Leo Jr IS a victim of kidnapping no matter how wholesome it turned out to be). He gets to know the joys of having a twin, of being able to goof around and laugh, being understood/accepted, being able to make friends and be a kid! Meanwhile...Donnie (the one who was MEANT to have Leo as his twin) didn't get any of that. It hit hard that, even if it wasn't intentional by any means, Don was "easily replaced." (which idk if it's intentional or not, but that seems to be a reoccurring theme for the spiny softshell in this au).
He'll never really have that close knit bond, not know what it's like, even if Leo Jr and him do grow close during their teenage years. Because in this reality, the "Disaster Twins" exist, Donnie's just not apart of it. Which is just another way that shows how much of a stranger the kid is to everyone who is supposed to be his family; his father, two brothers, and even the one who was at one point meant to be his twin.
That thought is sorta what led me down the rabbit hole of Leo Jr AU! Don brainrot. The kid's reality is one of neglect, extreme isolation, fear and...probably a deep well of self-hatred, loneliness, non existent self-worth, etc. (we saw how he struggled with in Rise Canon, so i can only imagine it is so much worse in this au). I can only imagine that this also impacts his ninpo and mystics later on, which probably is going to make his self-esteem take a nosedive.
Ngl if Leonardo's twin (who I'm gonna call Tello) is actually watching over his past self, it makes me wonder what he's thinking. His pov would be intriguing consider he'd be witnessing how much pain his twin's actions caused. Idk- I just- when I look at everything from this particular au, it makes me hope that Donnie is allowed to feel his big feelings without people trying to rush him. He should be allowed to be terrified, hurt, angry, etc towards Splinter and Leonardo. Neither of them deserve his forgiveness, because shit- both of them fucked up big time. They both caused complex trauma...and like- really need to face consequences. (apart of me sorta hopes Donnie DOESN'T forgive them)
dakjsfsadfas sorry for rambling, not sure if any of that made sense, but I just- I have so many feelings about Donnie in the Leo Jr au, and really want to see more of him!
The sewers were a gross place to live if you asked Junior but Splinter refused to move to the hidden city. Luckily he had his portals meaning he could step into the already cleaned portion they called a home.
“Leo!” Mikey was the first to notice him. Dropping the plates on the table he was setting them vaulting over it, “You came!”
“It’s still Junior,” He reminded for the umpteenth time, “And yeah I said I would,”
Mikey collided into him for a hug. Junior gave a small wave to Raph- or Red, probably Red as the snapper wasn’t meeting his eyes while trying to hide his scowl. Splinter was setting the table in Mikeys stead, making wayyy too much eye contact as he kept staring at Junior. He was placing the plates down carelessly. The one in front of Donnie was placed down with a crack, only Junior caught his flinch.
“Great, he’s here, I saw him,” Donnie pushed away from the table in a frenzied movement, “Can I please leave now,”
“Purple your brother is here, that is more important than some computer,” Splinter snapped. No one took note of the way both Donnie and Junior cringed.
“Nah he’s just tryna get out of showing me his lab since he promised last time,” Junior stepped forward and away from Mikey.
“I did no such thing,” Donnie scowled at him as Junior came around to his side,
“No use backing out now Dee,” Junior grinned, shuffling towards Donnie so the softshell backed away. Kind of like herding a very liable to bite sheep, “I’m expecting the grand tour, don't wait up everyone! “
But dinner…” Junior pretended he didn’t hear Mikey as he walked Donnie towards his room office lab space.
It was empty, with sections obviously organized out to put things there but with not enough actual stuff to do it. Donnie held himself like a tightly drawn string as they walked in. Not looking at Junior as the red slider circled around to the other's bed.
“What did you want to see?” Donnie asked tiredly as Junior came up behind him, “Most of my stuff is at the old place, or the other old place, or-”
Donnie was cut off by the blanket being draped over his head like a tablecloth.
“Nothing much,” Junior shrugged stepping away as Donnie went very still under the blanket, “Just had to get out of there, think I might sit quietly against a wall for the next half hour, not say anything, not do anything, you know how it is,”
Junior slid down the wall. He would have to go back eventually, or the others would break down the door and pull them both back to dinner. He estimated he had about thirty six minutes before that happened and that he could convince them to leave Donnie be. He’d say he asked if the softshell could make something for him. Something big so Donnie would have an excuse to disappear for the next week or so. They tended not to bother the other turtle as much if they thought he was doing stuff for the yokai.
The blanket shuffled, bunching up on the ground as Donnie sat near him. Only just within arms reach. He was covered head to toe, curled up and completely silent. Junior occupied himself trying to come up with a believable project. Maybe a new mask? That way he could wear his old one and the others would never know, it’s not like Splinter ever let them follow Junior to the battle nexus.
The blanket shifted but Donnie didn’t emerge. A hand poked out the bottom, listing up the cloth and bunching it up while still keeping the soft shell hidden. Junior reached his hand out halfway. Donnie couldn't see it but paused when his searching hand brushed up against it. Junior kept still, waiting, not minding one way or the other.
Donnie held his fingers, squeezing lightly. Junior squeezed back, not taking Donnie’s whole hand but meeting him where he was. It was pleasant, it was quiet. The noise from the others blocked off. A little bubble away from everything where they could just be.
Junior thought growing up in the sewers may have not been all bad… if he got to do it with Donnie.
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Super Niki au my absolute beloved.. the more information I get the more crazy I get
(hi sorry this sat in the inbox for like two months anon for some reason i was hoping something more substantial would appear out of thin air. it didn't btw.) regardless of that! fuck yeah anon i'm with you on that
i think a superhero niki story would have to have a real focus on the mundane. like the nitty gritty details of "how do you conceal your identity from people in your superhero costume?" "how do you fit patrols into your week? you can't possibly do them every day." all that! again i think this comes back to me being really attached to the 'everyman' side of c!niki it makes me want to imbue that feeling into everything i write with her. in this au i think she does work at a bakery (good for her) but when the shit starts to hit the fan she disengages from her job, stops taking on the extra duties she usually does at work, stops caring, eventually stops showing up. etc. this is probably related to how she ends up crashing with fundy and hbomb after The Puffychu Divorce (superniki edition)
here are a few other miscellaneous thoughts i've been having:
i've been having more of a think about emerald duo in this au, and i think i know how i picture them being. so phil is wilbur's dad, techno is phil's friend, techno and wilbur define their relationship in vastly different ways, etc etc the standard. oh but they're both supervillains. not for any particular reason they kind of liked mucking around causing mayhem first and then came up with an ideology later. anyway phil's retired and techno Would Like to be retired but he's still looped into the job due to Shenanigans (blood god related mb?). wilbur is fully aware of this and goes to him to be like 🥺 help i need ideas when he decides to go supervillain mode
oh! and wilbur's alter ego name is chekhov ^-^
and so the syndicate in this au is......................... a book club. yes for real
okay look i was thinking about what to do with the syndicate and i didn't really want to have them end up as a Bad Ass Villain Posse because i think niki needs to retire or at least be a superperson part time after everything that happens. so instead, she ends up meeting phil and techno and they help her ease into super semi-retirement ^-^ and ofc phil and techno appreciate having another friend who Gets It around. they are literally just like a book club and a mild support group in this au in a very silly way and i like it
i've spoken a bit about fundy and hbomb in this au... yeah niki lives with them after breaking up with puffy. not 100% sure where jack fits in. maybe he's another low ish level vigilante running around and tries to ally with niki? i can't imagine any allegiances she makes in that mental state (without the history she and jack had as l'manbergians in canon) would last very long. maybe she sees a bit of herself in him. they both call each other out for being emotionally immature idiots and then go and do the exact same thing themself. hypocrites
oh and i think i've mentioned niki making her own costume before!! i imagine as a fire based superhero she buys PPE (like from a tradie joint) and modifies it to be 1. functional and 2. fashionable. this does in fact mean that hi-vis yellow + orange are her colours in this au....
and below the cut is a treat: a snippet i wrote of a scene where after a big fight, wilbur finds himself patching up his wounds in the same safety stash as this city's very own friendly neighbourhood superhero (who wants to beat his ass)......
“Why do you hate me?”
The stubborn rasp in his voice surprises even him. As for the woman on the other side of the room, her shoulders draw tight - like a wild animal arching its back, a show of anger.
The question, then – should Wilbur interpret such a motion as defensiveness, or as a threat?
“What makes you say that?” she asks. Her voice runs high with the question – a quiet sound, like a flute's soft alto, though it rasps slightly through the sound of a voice changer. Idly, Wilbur wonders whether it is worth asking where she got it. Or how she fashioned it, perhaps. God knows he needs one. Chekhov might manage perfectly fine in the midst of faceless reporters and supervillains – the proper kind – who haven't seen the light of city streets in years, but if Wilbur were to cross paths with someone he knew as himself (god forbid, someone like Tommy) his voice would give him away quick as anything.
(His heart aches, briefly, when he thinks of his brother.)
Part of him tries to unpick what her voice would sound like without it. It’s difficult not to fixate on these small things – perhaps because the bigger things provide him with so little in comparison. Her voice is quiet, a little difficult to pick the sounds apart around the staticky rumble of the voice changer, but far from timid. There’s a stubborn timbre to it.
(Something in it is familiar. But that thought is patently ridiculous, and Wilbur is impatient, and so it is dismissed.)
[scene continues]
"Am I," Wilbur pauses, wets his lips – it almost feels as if the fire is still flickering beneath his skin, energising and scorching all at once. "Am I that horrible? Is there something – do you see something so inherently terrible in me that you just have to strike it down? Is that it?"
Her powder-keg silence sparks, ignites, her scowl a torn-open slash even beneath the planes of her mask, embroiled in sudden fury. "Don't flatter yourself - "
"Ah, and there it is!" To her credit, she doesn't stagger back as he lights up – if anything, her affect is unimpressed. "Show us the blaze, firebug! What – what drives you? What lights your fuse?"
"Do you even know what you are?" she retorts. Oh, she's caught on the hook, now. "You know what you are?"
What is Wilbur expecting? Proud, arrogant perhaps – delusional wouldn't be anything new, or any of the crueler words from that stock. Wouldn't be the first time he'd been called some variety of son of a bitch bastard, either. Who is he, to this spectre of flame? He's asking honestly, though he doubts she believes in his integrity.
"You're a liar," she continues, words stubborn and fierce and almost unwieldy. "You – you are so selfish, and so cruel – you take, and you take and you take and you don't think for a second of the people you're taking from. You don't think anything of them. You're a liar," and when she repeats these words, they sound like smoke – "and you know what? I hate liars. I hate them."
The words sink into him like stones. How does she know? he asks himself. How does she know?
He doesn't ask her that. Knowing his patience, he'd be lucky for an answer, anyway - instead he just suggests, "you speak like you're familiar on the subject, then?"
If it's even possible, her scowl drives itself deeper into her face - like tyre tracks driven into mud, an ugly slash of drawn brows and what he can only assume is teeth bared behind that voice changer of hers.
She looks at him like he isn't worth a single thing on this earth.
"Yeah, well," she spits. "I've had my fair share, with bastards like you."
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