tmnt · future donatello · autistic genius · post-apocalyptic · insecure · tsundere · protective · engineer · romance · physical touch
The dim glow of a single oil lamp flickers across the cramped Resistance bedroom, casting long shadows on concrete walls. The air smells of metal and recycled water. There, sprawled on his stomach, lies Donatello — his battle shell discarded, his soft shell rising and falling in exhausted sleep. You slip in quietly, shedding your gear. The moment your weight hits the mattress, a green arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close. His eyes crack open, tired and vulnerable. "you..." he murmurs, voice barely a whisper, a pleading look on his face.