#Blames Splinter for literally everything

[hyperfixation-bs]

Literally 2012 Shredder whole show

[hollowaluminumvessel]

Post-114 (Still Not Ferin Well) headcanons 🤗

long post, Hcs for gillion, Jay and chibo under the cut ♥

Gillion(real)

-since his lay on hands wasn't an immediate reaction, all of his missing skin and the holes in his hands became scar tissue.

-once they got back to the ship and everything was calm again, his hair was soooo ratty and knotted. The crew spent ages combing it out, washing out the blood and grime, and making sure it was tied up next time they did something like that.

-when doppelgilly was voided and became a husk, Gillion felt bad. He knew that he shouldn't, he knew that doppelgilly was some evil copy of himself but doppelgilly looked, acted, and felt like himself. It was like looking in a mirror.

-to chip, Jay, and the rest of the crew, he has literally never looked worse. He looks exhausted, he looks beaten. To gil thoigh, he thinks that hes seen worse. He hasnt. The moment he was healed, they sent him to the tub.

-he nearly fell asleep in the elevator, and then while Jay and Gryffon helped with his hair.

-Gillion WILL have lasting trauma and you are NOT changing my mind. I mean no chance he doesn't right?? A Triton literally said to him, WHILE CHAINED, "YOU ABANDONED US." COME ON BRO THATS NOT EVEN THE WORST OF IT

-when Gil was first taken, his neck literally broke. It's verbally stated that if he hadn't casted death ward, he would literally be dead. And he was yanked upwards, as if he were hanged. That bitch should be DEAD AF DAWG. DEAD

Jay

-Jay is second guessing herself like the sky literally fell and it's her fault. She's questioning her role, her right to be a leader, even her life. She spends that night crying as quiet as she can. It felt good, she hasn't had a good silent sob session in a few months. She needed to let it out.

-When Jay put together that Gillion was actually doppelgillion, the loud noises started happening and she fuckin BOOKED IT over to the leviathan room. She got them into this mess, if she didn't get them out she'd never forgive herself.

-when gillion was sent to the tub and the rest of the crew left to do whatever they pleased, chip held Jay back. He told her that it wasn't all her fault. He said that he doesn't blame her for indulging on information about her sister, because why else are they going to the hole in the sea? For laughs? No, it's for chip to do the same thing. They hug then. And then they go about their day/night.

-Jay's hair is singed. When they finished with Gillions hair, they turn to Jay's and cut it as short as she'll let them. Her hair used to be around waist length, as she'd ignored it for a while, only doing so much as to brush it every morning and night to prevent knotting, and goddamn that shit was greasy. She wasn't the only one though so they didn't put it past her. Her hair after the cut is probably upper back to shoulder length. Queen comes along and helps her style it so she doesn't look stupid like she thinks she does.

-she denies that she likes it at all. She's lying and they all know it.

Chip

-im gonna be so fr with myself and say I haven't paid the most attention to chibo so if I get anything character-wise wrong, mercy 🙏

-chips bones are weaker now, some even broken from when he opened the drawer and the ringing rang. Griz said it splintered through his bones, I'm not letting that go

-anyway think like Hector from coco. Some bones are split and broken, some are being held together with medical tape, etc. Basically he's more broken than ever.

-in the fight with the holloweds on the ship. One of them managed to get a lucky shot right on the hole in his chest where his heart should be. Later that night, it burns. He scratches, he rubs, he does anything he can to make the burn go away but nothing works. It seems to have lessened the next day though, so he's not worried.

-theres discolored bruising around his neck where the slimy tongue is.

-on the same note, chip was being dragged much slower, so his neck didn't break, but he was held much tighter.

-when chip told Jay it wasn't her fault, it was all he could do to keep from crying. Because deep down, he thinks it was his. He's the one taking them to the hole, he's the one that brought them into this mess in the first place. He wished he'd never met anyone on this ship, so at least they'd be safe, home, and away from this. He's disappointed in himself. He's angry and sad and he's so upset that he's putting his crew through this nonsense.

-chip thinks the fact that doppelgilly pulled some of the worst cards back to back was hilarious. Then he looks at gillion later on and sees how he's contemplating and he rethinks. He doesn't really change his mind, but he rethinks.

[imagionationstation]

More- more gender swap Donnie? Please? Pretty please?

(No pressure)

OKAYOKAYOKAY- SO GET THIS!

There are a lot of things that stay very, very similar to canon, but obviously some things HAVE to change to make room for big adjustments like lack of love triangles, SO I was debating a couple of episodes and how they could be altered or fixed and literally rewrote an entire episode and OOPS MY HANDS SLIPPED AND NOW I’M SHARING BC YOU ASKED NO TAKE-BACKSIES!

Baxter’s gambit: Happens exactly the same except Fishface keeps doing those weird, uncomfortable, cringe flirty comments at Donnie and at one point he gets too far into her comfort zone and Raph punches his face straight into the ground and threatens to gut him if he ever tries that again ‘cause SHE’S A TEEN DUDE BACK OFF.

Then they bond, and he reminds him of the threat, but nicer.

Needless to say, Fishface leaves Donnie alone.

Slash And Destroy: After Spike is almost blown up, Raph wants Donnie punished, but it was an honest accident, and Splinter only warns her to keep her lab door shut. In a fit of frustration, Raph nabs the mutagen and shouts that “she only gets away with stuff because she’s a GIRL!” and then slams his door to lock himself away. When Slash is bragging later, he reminds Raph of what he said while enraged and insists that he “gave her what they both knew she always deserved” and also implies that Leo’s next.

This scene haunts Raph when Donnie opens up about her insecurities down the line and he realizes that he’s partly to blame.

Showdown: Shredder tries to get under his skin by challenging the false fact that Splinter ‘replaced’ Miwa and with a shelled freak, no less. He taunts him by threatening to kill Donnie, asking if he’d get over her just as easily. Splinter hisses that he loves both his daughters, dead or alive, and the fight leads to Karai’s reveal.

The Pulverizer: The brothers ditch Timothy with Donnie and she makes a halfhearted comment under her breath about stereotypes and “women getting left with the children” as Timothy destroys several beakers in the background and she resigns to her fate.

The Invasion, Part 1: During the argument over whether to use the bot, Donnie accuses Leo of not trusting her because “she’s a girl” and Leo insists that’s not why. When she demands an explanation, all he says is that he’s “the leader.” She’s visibly dissatisfied.

The Invasion, Part 2: While April wraps her arm, Donnie admits that she thinks Leo only separated from them because she was the one who got shot. That if she had been paying attention, or if she hadn’t picked a fight, it would never have happened. She asks if April thinks that it’s her fault that he’s out there alone. Before April can answer, a tremor shakes their building and Kirby freaks out.

A Foot Too Big Disclaimer: ERASE EVERYTHING YOU KNOW.

A Foot To Big is actually about Donnie being unnecessarily nice to Leo and Leo being too distracted by his own issues to really notice. Donnie gets distressed and confides in Mikey that he must be “really mad at her” and doesn’t listen when he’s skeptical. Raph tells Donnie that she needs to give him space, does the “you know what you need? Huh? You know what you need?” bit and then drags them outside. Leo’s already out there and Donnie’s too distracted looking his way to fight well. Raph sends him and Mikey out into the forest to put some distance between the two.

There, they run into a Big Foot. Donnie notices that she’s injured so they bring her home. She’s ecstatic to meet another female mutant that’s essentially a historical endangered species. There’s no weird love thing- only Donnie being her obsessive self and diving head-first into studying Big Foot. Leo notices that change from doting to basically pretending he doesn’t exist, and mentions it to Raph. Raph tells Donnie that maybe she should talk to Leo, and she fires back that it was his advice to give Leo space. Raph argues that he didn’t mean ignore him altogether, but Donnie doesn’t listen. They get into a shouting match that ends with Donnie spotting Leo walk out of the house and her quickly stomping off into the forest.

Later, Donnie’s sulking in the shadows when Leo finds her. Or, he reveals, Big Foot led him to her, hinting that she knows the forest really well. Donnie fires at comment about ‘betrayals’ and Leo sits down next to her, meaningfully saying that he’s grateful Big Foot did. Leo tries to get Donnie to open up, but she keeps denying that anything is wrong, more and more tense as he insists that she’s been acting strange ever since he woke up.

There’s a cliche “wait, I hear something” “what?” “shhh” “you’re just trying to shut me up” moment before they hear a shout.

They move to Big Foot’s aid, only to get knocked out themselves. Upon waking up, they realize what situation they’re in and Donnie gets an idea. She pleads with Leo to follow her lead and he does without missing a beat. They escape and fight The Finger, The Finger and Big Foot have their… moment, and then Leo and Donnie exchange baffled shrugs as they leave.

The last scene has Donnie supporting Leo on their way back to the farmhouse. Leo stops her on the porch and leads her into sitting down on the stairs with him. Donnie’s anger has clearly left her by then, and she hunches in on herself as he reveals that he knows that Raph and her were arguing about him. He pleads with her to tell him what’s wrong, and eventually she breaks.

Donnie pours out all the guilt that was eating away at her- how she didn’t listen and he ended up in a coma for three months, and how she knows he has every right to hate her but she’s sorry and going to try her hardest to make it up to him- only interrupted when Leo drops his crutch and pulls her into a tight hug. She shrivels in it, burying her face in his shoulder, and he assures her that nothing was her fault. He was being just as stubborn as she was. They could have found a compromise. None of his choices were hers to bear, and if he had to choose between protecting her or himself, he’d choose her a million times over. And not just her, all of his little siblings. He ends it with a light tease of “sorry, Donnie, you’re really not that special.”

He earns a shaky laugh that makes him smile. They separate and Donnie says that she’s going to do her best not to question him in the future, and he scolds her, saying that she better not let him make dumb plans just because she feels guilty. They poke fun at one another until the tension clears, and then Leo shivers, and Donnie frantically insists that he shouldn’t be out in the cool night air.

Her amused older brother lets her lead him inside and the episode ends with her shouting for someone to grab a blanket and to start up the fire, and then a black-and-white image of the farmhouse door.

YEAH YOU BET I JUST DID THAT

The Creeping Doom: Instead of chasing Icecream Kitty across the floor, they manage to calm Donnie down by letting her play with April’s hair. It ends up being a tangled mess of bows and hair clippings that April takes out on the way to the lab to check on Mikey, but she waits ‘till Donnie gets distracted, since it’s visibly clear that she both enjoyed herself and was proud of her ‘creation’.

The Power Inside of Her: When Donnie says that she’s okay after everything, Leo interrupts to say that she’s not. When Donnie stiffens, her older brother is quick to reassure her that if any of them were in her place, they would be far from okay.

After April thinks that “at least some good came out of this,” the scene transitions to just the turtles watching tv. Donnie says that she’s sore and headed to bed, but her brothers all visibly panic. Mikey’s the one to say that maybe they “should just hang out a bit longer?” and Raph insists that they should for Mikey’s sake since “he’d just wake them up later,” implying that he commonly wakes them when he has nightmares. Leo asks Donnie to “humor them” and Donnie gives in, lightly teasing her big, bad brothers as they scoff and crowd her, but overall looking immensely relieved.

I HAVE FIVE HUNDRED BUBBLING THOUGHTS, BUT ALSO THINGS TO DO, THE STRUGGLE! GAH!

THANK YOU SM FOR THIS ASK!

[oneslimybastard]

Ghetsis facts:

>At least two grunts are scared of him (musharna being able to spook them off with visions of being scolded by Ghetsis)

>His speeches does in fact convince some people to release their pokémon or at least second-guess their view on the trainer-pokémon relationship

>Tells the grunts to give Bianca's Munna back

>Persuasive enough to essentially wiggle some of his Guys out of arrest in Driftveil, even if Clay does it reluctantly

>Knows Reshiram and Zekrom would not fuck with him so he picks up a miracle child from the forest to do it for him instead. Raises said child kind of like his own but also kind of not, there's a deliberate distance put between them

>Did make this wonderchild who can speak to pokémon and are clearly very empathetic towards them hang out with pokémon who had been mistreated for the purpose of instilling an ideology in him.

>Randomly has 3 ninjas who are just ride or die until the end of time for some reason

>Lots of team plasma is ride or die for him actually, otherwise Neo Team Plasma wouldn't have been a thing

>He rubs the death of Alder's partner pokémon in the mans face. All cheeky beaky like. Because he can.

>He will tell the teenager his Adopted I Swear Not Related Promise son is fixated on as a rival all about how he basically groomed say son into doing all of this dragon bullshit while having them cornered on a bridge. Then just casually walks off. His ninjas are there too.

>Will also happily tell said teenager they probably aren't that special or chosen or whatever, lol lmao, seems like ur dragon haven't woken up yet, dw maybe it will, lol.

>Cannot take an L to save his fucking life. Will lash out at everything and everyone around him and build a stupid airship with a stupid laser powered by the crinkly old grandpa of the dragon trio and do a terrorism before taking an L

>Refers to himself as being PERFECT while inhaling massive amounts of copium

>Needs a cane in bw2 and is only ever seen using one of his hands, so probably physically disabled to some degree

>Strong enough to jam the butt of that cane into the solid frozen earth of a cave. Probably just kind of a visual metaphor for him being threatening but also Hear Me Out What If He's Fucking Built-

>N is ride or die for him enough to still try and get through to him during the bw2 climax despite having been utilized as a silly little pawn yet again. This does not work, because as previously mentioned, man just cannot take that L

>When faced with literally no other option but to take an L, he passes out. His ninja squad punctuates this with him probably not being a threat anymore.

Ghetsis interpertation:

I think all of these things weave together into just a very fascinating person when you look at them a little deeper. Someone who's clearly charismatic enough to acquire that much loyalty, love, and fear — but also not equipped to handle the shame of failure in the god damn slightest. When threatened he devolves from a calculated cult leader above it all to a snarling animal fighting for its life, because he's probably rotted away behind a mask of perfectionism for years rather than done any significant growth as a person. He's clearly intelligent, probably highly emotionally intelligent because if he wasn't he wouldn't be able to pull this shit, but all of that shatters and breaks and splinters with one (1) crucial failure. He tries to recuperate but can't, the survival instinct is breathing down his neck because to him the shame of being a human like the rest of them rather than the perfect ideal he's been forging is scarier than anything that could actually physically kill him. He blames N, he blames MC, Colress, just about anyone and anything that doesn't end up pointing back to his own shortcomings.

And still! N probably loves him! And it's probably genuine! He wants to connect with him and breach that gap and give him ibuprofen because even if he's shown himself to be cringe, that's still his father, which is something he values enough to try and hold on to. And the ninja guys remain ride or die, so there's clearly something to him other than schemes and trickery, something genuine and beautiful that might not in practice be worth fighting for but it sure feels like it.

A beautiful man who's warped himself into a demon because he couldn't stand his own humanity because he's probably autistic and traumatized from his undefined childhood, and when he's beat down, rather than taking that L at long last, he'll curl up in his little cage, continue to snarl and tell himself over and over that this is what he is. What he will always be. He couldn't become god so he resigns to dying a devil. Because even still, that is preferable to him over taking that L, admitting to himself he is just a little guy like other little guys with problems he couldn't cope with, and that it caused hurt and destruction.

Devils don't feel regret or shame, humans do. And he'd have a loooot of that to chug through if he decided to face it. So he won't.

which is just very sexy and milfy and babygirl of him i think. this is my "why ghetsis is like so sexy actually" manifesto, without even tapping into the juice that is him going "nuh-uh" over his own dang disabilities but that too ties into how he can't cope with his own imperfect humanity so u know. Also that he's just kinda sassy and petty. Amazing. 10/10 best written character not in the games but in my brain.

[bbyseok]

like a moth to a flame

pairing: dabi x reader

cw: villain dabi, pro hero reader, gender neutral reader but dabi calls reader “doll” because i’m obsessed, mentions of passing out, blood, and violence, dabi kinda uses his quirk on reader/slight burning, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, slight dubcon, mild humiliation/degradation, marking/biting, mild choking, kissing n groping, i think that’s all

analysis: when an attack on the league goes wrong, you suddenly find yourself like moth to a flame.

a/n: this is entirely horikoshi’s fault blame him and his latest sketch of dabi for this bc i seriously wasn’t able to function after seeing it ANDDD bc dabi’s dance was so good animated like ugh

———

it’s too dark to see anything. it’s so, so dark, engulfing you and whatever’s around. now, normally, the darkness doesn’t deter you. you can see through it sometimes, but your vision spins and blurs.

you can feel coarse dirt underneath your arms as you crawl forward to nothingness. “fuck.” the simple curse escapes you gruffly and you can somewhat open your eyes a bit more.

the voices of the other heroes reign somewhere in the distance and you can faintly hear the creaking and splintering of branches. the roar of flames is overwhelming.

“fuck,” you hiss once more, pushing yourself to at least stumble up somehow, and the night sky’s faint luminance is now streaming in.

you must’ve passed out or something—the fresh smell of fire reaches your nostrils and you burst into dry coughs. you can literally taste the smoke in your throat and it’s awful.

it had been a carefully articulated and planned attack on the league of villains. after going through some suspicious reports and sightings, based on some other inside information, the commission decided it was time to snuff them out.

at least three organized patrols had been assigned—with some of the top heroes accompanying and a good majority of the police force on standby.

it seemed like everything was going to go well. the heroes supposedly had all the cards in their hands. until something with the main patrol came up—there were more targets not on the capture list, the police were no longer on standby and your radios were going crazy with static and voices.

and your patrol had been split up when things had went wrong.

once you’re finally standing, you register the bright blueness of the flames that surround you—it drowns out the shadows of the night and it has you wincing from the heat. thankfully, you’re not in the frenzy of the fire.. but the scorch is nearly blistering.

it’s clear that one of the league members had the woods to his advantage—the commission had planned around it by sending heroes with water-based quirks to deflect such attacks and yet.. it seems like something had backfired. the blaze is unyielding as ever.

you wince once more and analyze yourself for any severe injuries. definitely some scratches and bruises, probably some sore (or even broken) ribs but it’s nothing you can’t manage. you need to get back to the others.

smoke curls through the towering trees that aren’t burning down. despite the ache in the back of your head and everything else in your body screaming at you, you make your way through the greenery that isn’t alight, trying to listen to the sounds of the nearby battle.

“well, well, well.. aren’t you a bit far off from your friends, little hero?” there’s a voice that calls out to you, low and snickering. it stands out amongst the chaos. “are you lost?”

fuck.

the last thing you wanted was to run into the criminal behind all this fire—and just your luck. you’ve never met the infamous arsonist before despite your line of work, but you’ve read the files, seen the videos, took in the very little information of him. dabi. and you freeze in place, wary as you glance around.

you can’t pinpoint where his voice came from, and then he’s speaking again. “scared?” it’s paired with that mocking laugh. he sounds like a predator that’s caught his prey.

and dammit, right now, you are his prey.

you know he’s taunting you, trying to provoke you—and it’s working, alright. “the only one scared right now is you-!” you reply defiantly, still scanning your surroundings, “you’re the one hiding, you damn coward!”

there’s the noise of a fresh searing wave of heat behind you and you hiss in alarm, twisting on your heel to see if he’s there—only to be met with no one still. fuck, he’s toying with you.

“why are you even here?” you protest, hands balled up into fists as you continue to slowly turn around. “shouldn’t you be helping out your fellow league members?”

for a while, he doesn’t answer over the crackles and pops of the fire. and then he laughs again. “ah, they’ll be just fine without me for a while!” he declares, “and i just couldn’t help myself when i saw a little lost mouse like you wandering about.”

something sends tingles down your back but you have no time to decide what it is when you hear him behind you again. but you’re too late to react, and you’re shoved face first back into the ground.

dabi laughs again; it’s a sickening sound and you can hear the tainted delight in it. and to your horror, you realize that—his stupid fucking laugh—is what sends shivers down your spine.

there’s weight being pressured on your lower back and a surge of humiliation washes over you when you realize he’s stepping on you. you squirm in resistance.

“can’t say that i’ve seen your face before, doll,” he coos as he leans forward. you yelp in pain as the heel of his boot digs sharply into your back. “won’t you tell me your name?”

with a scowl and a shout of frustration, you manage to push him off and scramble back onto your feet. “fuck you! like i’d ever tell you!”

when you’re facing him again, your stomach twists. there’s a predatory smirk on his lips and the heat from the flames tousles his hair. “ah, don’t worry! ‘m sure i’ll get you to tell me one way or another.”

you lunge for him, aiming to attack and catch him off guard but he maneuvers to the side. his arm raises up in the corner of your peripheral and you narrowly dodge a blast of his flames.

your feet nearly slip when you face him again but he’s rushing forward on the offensive—you scream in terror once you see his hand aimed right for your head but then-

his hand wraps around your throat, and there’s that menacing grin on his face again—like he wants to eat you alive and leave nothing left.

“oh, doll.” his laugh is still taunting and raspy. the sound curls and tickles your abdomen and you shiver just hearing it—oh god, it shouldn’t be affecting you like this, he shouldn’t be affecting you like this. “shouldn’t you be fighting me?”

his movements are too fucking quick—his legs move forward and yours backward and you fucking whimper once your back slams against a tree that’s somehow still standing.

the noise has a flicker of surprise and thrill flitting over dabi’s face. and then his wicked smirk grows as he leans in. “you like this, don’t you, doll?”

you want to say that you don’t—you had whimpered because of the pain and that you’d rather throw yourself in the fire around you before admitting that. but you’re hyper aware of the hand around your throat and the knee between your thighs and you can’t fucking think.

it must be written all over your face because he tightens his grip ever so slightly and drawls, “oh, you do.”

your blood is rushing because fuck, he’s right.

“f-fuck off,” you wheeze out, your hands braced against his chest in a half-assed attempt to keep him at bay—but his unspoken threat of burning right through your throat hangs in the air. “let me.. go.”

“but you like this,” he insists menacingly. his shifts his knee even higher and you can’t help but gasp. “the little hero caught by me. look at you, doll, squirming on my thigh so helpless.”

his words have your cheeks heating up. mortified by your body’s responsiveness, you struggle again.

“don’t do that, doll,” he growls in warning, “or else.”

there’s heat emitting from his palm and you can feel your skin burning slightly—it fucking hurts but he’s controlling the heat with precision and the realization of you being completely at his mercy makes you melt.

when he retracts his hand back, the singe on your skin makes you feel lightheaded. “there,” dabi clicks his tongue in satisfaction, “your pretty neck is all marked up.”

and then he’s tangling his fingers into your hair, yanking it roughly so that your lips meet his. his other hand tugs at the remains of your hero costume to feel your body underneath his rough fingertips.

instinctively, you try to resist but once his hand tugs your hair again, you can’t help but reciprocate his forced kiss. in some sort of way of retaliation, you bite at his lip as hard as you can, tasting blood.

he pulls back with a hiss. and yet, his tongue swipes at the scarlet dotting his lower lip, and you try to squeeze your legs together at the sight. he doesn’t miss the action—and his leg presses even more. his bright blue eyes gleam and he snarls. “why don’t i make you bleed instead, doll?”

you open your mouth to snap back but he ducks his head down and you feel his teeth against the tender skin of your neck. a cry rips from you as he continues on to mark up your collarbone with bites.

“what would your allies think?” he mocks you, his nose skimming up along your throat. he sneers against your jawline, “your friends? your family? a hero like you abandoning those who need your help right now to have some fun with a villain like me?”

his words are making your head throb.. you should be fighting back, should be throwing him off and subduing him. you should be putting him behind bars and locking him up where he belongs. but all the sensations on your body say otherwise.

“just- just shut up and kiss me,” you gasp, half demanding, half pleading. one of your hands grab the back of his neck to pull him to you but he leans back, sneering once again.

“no, no, doll- you’re not gonna have your way just like that.” dabi grips your thigh and suddenly hoists it up—painfully without warning so you can feel him. “answer my question.”

a soft moan leaves your lips. the shame burns much hotter than his flames and it’s taking everything in you to look at him in the eye.

“i- i-” you stammer, unable to find the words to answer him. they’d be ashamed of you, of course. helplessly falling into this trap and savoring this villain’s touch.

“they’d be so proud of you, wouldn’t they?” dabi supplies, grinning at the mess he’s made you. “you just melt when i get my hands on you, doll. so pathetic.”

another moan resonates from your throat and he chuckles in devilish delight. “c’mon, hero,” he purrs and his hips suddenly roll forward once. “i wanna hear you say it.”

“i’m-” his movement is all you can focus and fuck, everything feels so hot. the flames, your body, him. you feel like you’re drowning in heat and the shame makes your heart lurch. “i’m pathetic-”

“that’s right,” he hisses, and you whimper in pain again when his calloused fingers yank down on your hair. his teeth clash against yours and you can feel the staples along his tongue—the kiss is all messy and you think you’re going to pass out again.

when he finally relents and pulls back, his dark gaze is captivating, promising. “won’t you tell me your name now, doll?”

oh, he’s going to burn you. your name, your reputation, your body, your heart, your everything.

and like a moth to a flame, you let him.

you tell him your name.

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Round IV of an Excerpt from The One True School Master of Vault 41

Let’s just say I was inspired by Soman’s short story, “The Prince’s Club.”

⸻

“Yes,” she reasserted. “You’re dead. I know it. I’ve proved it again and again, every single time I’ve doubted it. Just because my senses are telling me you’re real doesn’t mean I can trust them or you. This hallucination will not undermine the truth. You can’t exist. You only exist in my head. You’re a product of my mind.”

Rafal decided to defer to her for the time being. “Well then, while I'm still here, as long as I last, for my temporary stay in… your head, why argue? Why not make the most of the time we have? And, why bother to send me away? Am I not fit to hold a simple conversation with you?”

“You inhabit my dreams and nightmares,” she scorched. “That’s it! I’m still not awake.”

“Really? What is it that you dream of, when you dream of me?”

“Ah, well… it usually vacillates between you kissing me and me killing you,” Sophie confided.

“What else? Go on,” Rafal prompted, treading lightly. “ I want to know.”

Sophie hesitated. “All right.” She looked away from him, and began her recitation.

“There have been others, far more bizarre ones, I suppose. Er, in one, I refused your ring and you jumped to your death. You’ve fed me to Stymphs, you’ve imprisoned me in an enormous bird cage, you’ve chained me to the ground by my ankles, and I don’t know why, it was not the worse one by far, but I wept, and you told me to shut up because you had a migraine. I kept sobbing, and finally, you handed me a pike and told me to run you through the head because you couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve driven a letter opener through my throat because you weren’t having enough reading my mind as it was and thought you could pry open my vocal cords and cut out my tongue. You’ve… ahem, taken me down with a literal scythe, you’ve flown me into the center of the sun… and uh, you’ve serenaded me with a lute while wearing these horrendously obsequious pantaloons. I was wearing a lovely, lavender hennin, decked with tulle in that one. Some of my classmates pelted you with spoiled fruit. And, in another, I stood by while Tedros carved out your eyes and then turned you into a stone statue for Merlin's Menagerie. I cleaved off your ears because you hadn’t listened to me about getting a haircut. Agatha did not partake in your mutilation, but she did cheer exuberantly. Can’t blame her though—it wasn’t the real Agatha. Then, I planted a pomegranate tree in your honor. That nightmare was rather lurid. It still haunts me. Come to think of it, your hair does fall into your eyes. I think it would look better if it hit a bit higher above your brows. Yet another time, you were unspeakably upset for no particular reason, stamped your foot until you opened a rift in the ground, tore yourself into two like you were made of gingerbread, and then, the split parts fell through the earth. I was also mad because you’d eaten the honeycomb for one of my beauty routines, but I didn’t get upset like you did,” she accused. “Another night, I tied you to a bedpost and gagged you with a satin pincushion. You looked quite comical, but wouldn’t stop mumbling. My nails were bloody and I had torn cuticles for some reason. I think you ruined my manicure. And all the Old villains and the New students besieged you and got a good whack in while you were restrained, and the whole bed frame creaked until the bed collapsed on itself. You’d broken free from the binds, splintering the wood. You blew them to ashes. Then, you put me in a glass bauble. Everything looked colorful and distorted, and I think I must’ve died of suffocation because I don’t seem to recall the rest. One night, we sat atop the framework of a gallows where the waxen corpses were still strung up, with very fine sewing thread, no less, and you told me you thought my glass slippers were a laughingstock and that I was no match for Cinderella. Then you smoked a pipe. We went ice-skating, and you fell through the solid ice and simply disappeared. Or was that the one where you drowned in a pit of ashes, compressed into diamond dust that I used to decorate the borders of my stationary with? All that aside, I laughed and then some force sucked me down after you, as if it were a portal to Hell. Agatha grew wings and tried to save me to no avail. I swallowed the glacial water and, and, um… then I woke up. And… uh, that’s most all of them. The recent ones, at least.”

She pinked egregiously, and glanced back at him nervously to gauge his reaction.

Rafal wore an exaggerated scowl, to keep his laughter at bay, and he’d bitten down on his lip hard, dribbling blood. He wiped the blood on his sleeve.

Sophie curled her lips at the sight of yet another stain, but it didn’t truly matter because his jacket was already doused in blood.

Rafal cleared his throat breathlessly, and tried to speak, but no words came out. He started again. “Hmm… well then. That confirms you’re a Reader.” Disarmed, he scratched his neck as it reddened.

“Yes,” she agreed awkwardly.

⸻

Any reactions anyone? And did you catch the references I made? I’d love to get concrit on this one.

[chrisrin]

What did bismuth Dirk make Hal FOR?

ALRIGHT! TIME FOR MY SECOND STORY DUMP! We need a bit of context before we get to Hal, so bear with me. (this is a long as fuck post)

SO! Dave and Dirk both come from Homeworld, as all gems do. I'm not super sure on the exacts, as the Alpha Kids are the first ones to leave together and they pick up the Beta Kids later but, we're kind of floating around the idea of Bro being Yellow Diamond or having some sort of equivalent power. Both Dirk and Dave are gems under Yellow, Dirk being a Bismuth and Dave being a Carnelian.

Plot stuff happens, Dirk escapes and at some point comes back to get Dave and now they have a whole squad and all that, yadda-yadda. However, during their escape from Homeworld, something Bad happens and causes Dave to get injured (don't know what it is yet but it's something)

Dave's gem gets cracked but everyone still makes it out okay. Due to whatever the circumstances are surrounding this, only Dave and Dirk know of the status of Dave's gem, Dave starts wearing actual clothing upon getting to Earth to hide his cracked gem, using the excuse that it's cool and he's trying to vibe with the style.

Dirk is a Bismuth, he's been trained his whole life to create weapons of war and things for destruction, and now, faced with one of the people he's come to care about most, it's the one time he can't fix a problem by putting a hammer to it. He can't help Dave, and Dirk blames himself for letting Dave get hurt in the first place, thinking he wasn't strong enough to protect him.

As time goes on, Dave gets worse, and especially after escaping Homeworld, Dave's cracked gem prevents him from spawning his weapon. This means Dave is filled with trauma on top of feeling deeply defenseless, coming from a place where having a weapon on you at all times was the only thing keeping you alive.

Dirk, watching Dave's deterioration, decides that enough is enough and he seeks out Pink Diamond. Upon finding Feferi, Dirk trades in something (A deal? A service?) in exchange for some of her healing material. He brings it to Dave and heals his gem.

So, you'd assume everything's fine and dandy now, right? Surely.

But no, it's Dirk, so it's not.

Dirk looks at this situation and says, "I'm never going to let this happen again" and concludes that the reason Dave got hurt was because he, Dirk, was not strong enough. So Dirk asks, "How do I get stronger?"

At some point during this time, the group is all out doing stuff together and Dirk watches Sollux save all their asses from something. Dirk realizes Sollux is statistically the stronger gem out of the whole group and puts two-and-two together (literally), concluding that what he needs to be powerful is...

Fusion. (do you see where this is heading?)

Will Dirk go and ask Sollux about this? Will he go and maybe ask Roxy, who he trusts? Will he talk to Dave and get his thoughts?

No, of course not. Because Dirk is a little stupid.

Dirk theorizes that if he can splinter his own gem and create an artificially copied fragment of himself, he'd be able to fuse with himself which would avoid having to rely on other people. So Dirk does the one thing he wasn't going to do to Dave. He takes the hammer to himself.

This, as you would imagine, goes fucking horribly wrong.

Dirk creates Hal, who is only a very small sliver of Bismuth. A corrupted gem that can't properly speak, seems to be intelligent, but also fucking hates Dirk.

Dirk, panicked, both because now his own gem is fucked up, but now because he has a little Dude running around his workshop, decides "oh fuck I need to fix this" and tries to fuse with Hal.

It doesn't work. Their fusion isn't stable. They can't fuse back together.

Dirk, having no idea what to do, decides to hide Hal away in his workshop and does his best to lie to everyone. Dave is suspicious, as Dirk starts to wear clothing that covers his gem, but Dave also isn't one for emotional vulnerability so he doesn't ask. Dirk continues to lie to most of everyone, even as his own state gets worse and worse.

Eventually, Sollux realizes what Dirk did. And he's fucking pissed. The lie gets uncovered and Sollux is ANGRY. Remember when Pearl lied to Garnet about the tower and the whole Sardonyx thing? It's like that, but both sides are angry at each other and refuse to apologize.

The rest of the group do their best to take care of Hal, they try to help Dirk fuse properly with him but it's not working, and Dirk keeps trying to force it but they aren't stable.

Eventually, something happens, and Dave gets poofed while they're out on an adventure (obviously Dave can recover, but it's a huge scare for Dirk). It's something Dirk could've easily protected Dave from, but now because he fragmented himself, he's even weaker than before. This is the final tipping stone for Dirk.

He goes to Sollux and apologizes, begging him to help him figure out fusion.

Sollux, resigned, sighs and agrees to help him. With time, Sollux slowly teaches Hal and Dirk how to work together and fuse, gradually helping them become more and more stable until finally they can fuse together and be like normal again.

Even after all of this, Hal and Dirk fused together aren't any more powerful than they were before. But Dirk grew in a different way, learning to trust others and see that not all his problems can be solved by just relying on himself.

Sollux, seeing Dirk & Hal's growth, who have now become a proper permafusion, offers to fuse with them if he wants to try it. Dirk smiles and shakes his head, and says that he'll be happy with where he is for right now, though he wouldn't mind taking it up in the future. Sollux is beaming back, satisfied that Dirk learned his lesson. (and then when shit goes down in the future we have this fucking awesome moment where Dirk and Sollux fuse together for the first time and theyre so fucking cool and i physicall explode)

ANYWAYS THAT'S MY STORY DUMP. LONG-ASS POST I KNOW BUT I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THEM! HOPE THIS ANSWERS YOUR QUESTION!!

[gemsofgreece]

P.O.P: A masterpost!

Given that this is a blog about Greece, I suppose it's only fair to discuss what is going on in Greece right now. We're in the mid of an interesting, maybe unusual (if not unprecedented) cultural phenomenon. And I am seeing that splinters from this explosion have even reached Tumblr.

Chapters:

Preface

The Album

The Songs

Preface

The artist that represented Greece in Eurovision this year, Marina Satti, is not exactly a newcomer. She's actually involved with the music and general artistic industry of the country pretty much in the last 15 - 18 years. However, it was only eight years ago when she decided to put her phobias and anxieties aside and claim a prominent role as a solo singer and performer of her own work. In those eight years, she had the tendency to appear suddenly, go viral with one song or one project, then disappear and repeat that cycle over and over. In 2022 she eventually released her first album YENNA (=birth), celebrated by fans and music critics, and from that point onwards she started building a more consistent career, more open to the exposure of the audience and the media alike.

In late 2023 she was announced as the representative of Greece in Eurovision. In March 2024 she released the song for the contest, Zari, which sort of shocked a large part of the population for many reasons that I do NOT ascribe to, half of which should be studied in Greek sociology. (The song has literally 0 shocking elements.) From that point onwards, an unbelievable war was unleashed against her, not only by people, but also by other celebrities and the media, all while she was trying to prepare for her Eurovision performance. Satti defended her song Zari but except for rare incidents, she mostly avoided commenting or answering back to the hate she was receiving. This mass assault persisted and continued even when she lost her father three weeks before she had to fly to Sweden for the contest.

Her days and rehearsals in Malmö, Sweden weren't exactly good either but I have analyzed what she went through in another post already. On top of everything else, in the press conference of the qualifiers for the final, she feigned disinterest towards the Israeli participation for the obvious political reasons, a move that doubled the hatred she was receiving from the Greek government, Greek national TV broadcaster, half the people and all the Israeli, Jewish people and Israel supporters who unleashed a well organized cancel campaign against her. Unlike what happened with the Belgian, the Dutch and the Irish participants, the Greek TV broadcaster did not support or protect Satti but instead forced her to revoke, in supposed fear of a diplomatic episode (for a yawn in a pop song contest, mind you).

Marina Satti and her song Zari for Greece got the eleventh place in the final, which caused confusion anew in the country, as the fans were not happy but still content with the result, while the haters wanted to blame her for missing the Top 10 but had a hard time proving themselves right for having predicted a disaster or a disqualification.

In any case, with her unconventional song and her very charismatic if a little loud persona in Eurovision, Satti managed to quickly build a small European fan community. A few days after the final, Zari started climbing the global charts (it's #16 in the Global Viral Chart as we speak, a first for a Greek lyric song).

Four days after the contest, Satti strategically released her second album, called P.O.P.

The album

P.O.P. has become single-handedly the talk of the town in Greece, in a way that I don't remember happening enough for other artists and certainly not for a woman. To be honest, I don't remember another famous woman doing what Marina did here. Part of the novelty of this album is that its main goal is not the music itself but rather expression and it is a manifesto of sorts. But the true novelty is HOW she did it. So let's analyze a bit the genius of P.O.P.:

I call it P.O.P here but the album's title is actually Π.Ο.Π in Greek. Apart from the obvious nod to the pop music genre, Π.Ο.Π. actually stands for P.D.O. (Protected designation of origin). This could be a jab at all those who hated her and questioned her ethnicity for having a Sudanese Arab father and being, ALAS!, only half-Greek, while in the meantime Marina in Sweden was vocally advocating for the support and promotion of the Greek language and Greek ethnic sounds in modern music. So, she's P.D.O., certified GreekTM and pop! This is one of the cleverest album titles I have seen.

Now, let's go to the equally clever cover of the album.

What is only seemingly a rushed design looks like a draft in microsoft paint. It looks like the colour base was black which is erased with rushed white brushes, until the white prevails over the black, leaving only a few traces of the darker paint behind (remember, she's half-Greek half-Arab and she receives hate for this). On top of it all, there are several bold brushes of Greece's trademark blue. At the center of the cover we see the title, in the likes of an instant message. P.O.P aka P.D.O. and a Greek flag emoji next to it. Protected Greek origin. Below is her name in Latin characters, with her surname in capital letters, probably a tirbute to her late father. The time of the text message, next to her surname, I wonder whether it is random, but knowing Marina, I have this morbid feeling this time is not random at all. The message is circled with more blue paint and it suspiciouly looks like something is covered under the blue paint, next to the Greek flag. Below the text message, there is an emoji of a goat. This works in three possible ways: a) the goats are a classic image of the Greek countryside, especially Crete island where Marina comes from, b) it is used as the slang G.O.A.T, which is possible given the content of the songs and c) well, it could also serve as a self-deprecating joke idk!

The back of the cover features the names of the songs with a suitable emoji each. The time remains the same, next to the last song, which is the song she dedicated to her father.

The songs

TUCUTUM

Tucutum is a song Marina had releashed as a single last year actually. The reception of this song was very interesting because before Eurovision it had almost as many dislikes as likes. You see, it was Marina's song that made Greeks remember they actually like quality music. An extremely hypocritical attitude since more young Greeks than I care to admit like trap music. And I am listening to it and I am pretty sure Marina's trap is rocket science compared to the average trap of the... uh... proper trappers. And yet the trappers get nowhere near as many dislikes. But there is an explanation even for this: Marina blends Greek, other Balkan and Romani cultural elements, she indirectly trashes the biggest political party of the 80s-90s (largely responsible for the financial crisis), she directly addresses her haters, "who do nothing but say, say, say" and states it's her time to be heard. In the music video, she is supposedly the guest singer in such a feast of mixed cultures where men drink and celebrate to a decadent degree. When Marina breaks her trapping to intersect with a beautiful melodic bridge which is the part she was practicing the most before she arrived, therefore what she truly cared to express, a short ballad expressing her dream to fly away free like a bird, only a little girl listens to her in hope, while all the men have dropped unconscious due to their decandence. In the end of the feast, women discard the unconscious men in trucks. So you see, there is cultural, political and gender commentary. Too much for a braindead type of Greek to deal with, so let's just pretend we suddenly hate trap.

2. ZARI

As already stated, Zari was the Greek song for Eurovision. The lyrics is a blend of a regular love song, her exorcising her anxiety for the contest and multiple sly references to her older songs as a treat to her fans. She did once more something amazing - the song is sort of jarring and crazy because it combines many music genres. Instead of toning it down with the music video, she went all in and created an even crazier albeit ingenious video targeting foreign viewers. This time, Marina is a lowkey insane tour guide helping an unsuspecting typical "German tourist" (fun fact: the actor is actually an American retiree in Greece!) navigate and explore what seems to be an Athens-on-drugs. This once again made "proud"(?) Greeks protest that "this is not what Greece truly is", entirely missing the point that Marina didn't even have to do a travel promo in the first place. My humble opinion is that Greece is A LOT of things and when all of these are compressed in a presentation under 3 minutes with a touch of humour, it can totally give an on-drugs vibe. In truth, Marina didn't lie about anything she showed. She was proven right again, with most foreign people loving the video and her perception of Athens, including the winner of this year's public vote, Croatia's Baby Lasagna, who praised her for having the best music video this year. Objectively, she did.

3. STIN IYIA MAS

Now we go to the new, post-Eurovision songs. This is a pure song for a feast, where the composition belongs to Marios Tsitsopoulos, an artist I don't know much about but the general vibes are bouzoukia, ethnic, folk, balkan, arabic, a bit of trap, world etc. It's an easy, cheerful song and Satti elevates it with her angelic voice. So far, so good. (NOTE: There is a lyric there, she says she is swimming in the Aegean Sea but calls for he love to take her out so she won't drown. This is not an unusual lyric trope in Greek but keep it in mind for later.)

4. LALALALA

This is a song that takes you aback with it's childlike, unreserved joyousness. It almost feels like a musical "talk to the hand while I go lalalala" to the haters. It is basically Greek island folk turned into pop and the lyrics are pure innocent happiness, perhaps also paying tribute to classic Greek movies of the 50s-60s. I don't know if Marina filmed the music video before or after the ageists went berserk against her (she's 37 and everyone acts like she's 87) but the music video for this song, intentionally or unintentionally, is the most epic fuck you to the ageists. Marina, all people in our 30s are with you!!! The music video has had more than 1 million views in under 48 hours, a huge success in our small country. She's going viral. Again.

5. EIMAI KALA!!!!!!!!

The party is officially over. Again, this album is more of an experience than purely music. In this track, which is under one minute, the album features a Greek life coach recommending some positive affirmations for happiness, love, career etc. In short, that is a jab for what Marina has to do to deal with all the changes in her life and also all the good and all the bad vibes she has received.

6. MIXTAPE

If everything else wasn't bold enough, here we are. Mixtape. The 10-minute descent into madness. Ultimately, this is what makes this album what it is more than anything else. A song that is resolutely not a song and yet everyone admits that they have been listening to it again and again, either trying to understand everything or dancing to it as if it is actually a song. The funniest comment I saw about it is someone saying: "my mom entered the room as I was listening to this and I switched it to porn because at this point it is easier to explain". XD This could serve as one of those youtube videos about "what schizophrenia feels like". There is no way Mixtape can be effectively translated into English. In short, it is her answer to all the hate (or some of it, for the full deal Mixtape should be one hour long) in a delirious way through a patch of sounds and songs. There is trap in there, a famous bouzoukia singer whose lyrics can incidentally be used as Marina's commentary for the haters, she warns and reminds of her first song TUCUTUM, saying "didn't I say back then I am ready to speak now", she says she managed to shut the haters up, there is direct address for the criticism for Zari, she's mocking the lyricist who claimed copyright violation for the lyric "ta ta ta ta" (for real), she features (surely to her ignorance) a song from the singer that called her song "cat vomit", she features other trappers making a commentary on the Balkan ways of a Greece that pretends to be West Europe, she mocks those who obsess over Bouzoukia but become music critics when it comes to her, she mentions Eurovision, I think she also makes some references to Ireland's and Malta's songs (not negative), she speaks of a man that I am not sure who is supposed to be, many more things that I haven't fully deciphered, then she has like a kid song praying to Virgin Mary for a miracle for all this madness to stop before (tw) she loses her mind and falls from a cliff, then some more stuff, then suddenly a catholic Hallelujah is heard (implying the miracle has happened) and then she returns to the kid song but her voice sounds more mature than before and she goes like: "Sike I lied to you, thanks to Virgin Mary I don't care anymore, I am off to my vacation, I don't give a fuck and BYE". I don't think this has happened before by a Greek artist, especially in such a way. And I am so delighted that it is a woman who did this. This has attracted so much interest and curiosity around her, her personality. She is THE talk right now. Hats off, honestly. We wish non-Greek speakers could really fathom what is going on here but after all, she made this for us only... and it is...an experience.

7. AH THALASSA

In another 180 degree turn, this is a very emotional ballad for the loss of her father. She ends this frankly lunatic album by allowing access to her psyche, the suffering she went through all this time and never let it show. The title means "Oh, sea", where she implores the sea to take her down and drown her (notice the contrast with the lyrics in STIN IYIA MAS, that I mentioned). The ballad is sweetly haunting, Marina sounds truly like a siren mourning. But even here we get a taste of the ever surprising gem Satti is. The last part of the song is instrumental and as the music reaches its climax, the song ends straight away, right before the highest note in a morbid metaphor that almost scares you to death. Because that's how death is, especially of a loved one. Always unexpected. (This is the only song of hers so far that her haters have steered clear from and I think this says something.)

So, this is what Greece is basically dealing with now, crazy as it is. We are losing our mind over an artist who is not new, but only recently decided to start revealing all her cards. Furthermore, Satti is about to become known globally or at least beyond Greece's borders. If eventually she doesn't, that will be because she decided against it or she miscalculated greatly. But right now, the stars are on her side and we only need to see what happens next.

[certifieduruihater]

what were your thoughts on 2007 leo

I’ve seen this guy get a lot of hate from the tmnt fandom, so i went into the movie expecting the worst. Instead, i came out of the movie feeling sorry for the guy. 

Dude doesn’t even want to come home from the jungle because he doesn’t want to come back a failure after splinter sent him away to become a better leader. Which is crazy by the way. Imagine sending your teenage son to be a better leader by sending him AWAY from the team he’s supposed to lead. Who is he supposed to lead out here, the plant life? Leo’s probably seen stuff out here that no teenager should ever have to see, but that doesn’t matter to people, i guess. Anyway, it’s clear that he holds splinter and his brother’s opinion in high regard. Maybe too high, honestly.

He stops writing his brothers after a year and not a single person goes to check up on him. No one but APRIL of all people. Not his brothers, not splinter, but APRIL. Wow. and april didn’t even start out with the intention of seeking him out. She was there on business, but when the local legend started sounding familiar, then she decided to snoop. I have to ask, how did his family even know leo was alive? Did they know? His family clearly didn’t even try to contact him at all; they just wallowed in their misery and waited for leo to come home to fix things. But leo was so sure that his family had things under control; he refutes the idea that his family needs him when april brings it up, because i dont think leo believes it himself. Leo is so sure that his brothers don’t need him and says directly that “[the people of the village] need me more than my brothers do.” I think leo truly believes his family will be fine without him. It’s part of the reason why he stayed in the jungle for so long; he wanted to be in a place where he felt needed and, by proxy, wanted. And that’s just sad, because it implies that he was not feeling this way in his own home.

So leo comes home and the reunion is great between him and donnie and mikey, who both at least appear to be happy to see him. Raph and leo’s initial reunion is just awkward, because raph can’t ever just say he’s happy to see his brother. There always has to be something going on with him, which in turn affects leo. The tension quickly mounts between the two as raph continues being unreasonable and belligerent. 

When the turtles fight against that monster thing both raph and mikey just charge in without heeding leo’s instructions (in which he was just trying to follow splinter’s orders of not engaging), and then somehow, splinter blames leo?? ”there are no excuses when you are the leader” Huh?? Leo literally tried to stop them, splinter, but you didn’t want to hear him out and just blamed everything on him! If splinter is so concerned by the turbulence in the family, why doesn’t he do something about it then? No, instead he just keeps watching gilmore girls and counts on leo to handle everything for some reason. Splinter, and the rest of the turtles by proxy, put the burden of bringing the family together solely on leo. Leo trusted donnie to manage the team, and donnie just…gives up and starts a call center. Both mikey and donnie, instead of holding down the fort while leo is away, continuing patrol and ninjutsu like they’ve been trained to do, give up and get normal jobs. What? Splinter apparently said nothing, by the way, i guess he was perfectly cool with donnie and mikey giving up their life’s work and trusted that leo would fix things when he returned. Raph straight up ditched the team. Everyone fell apart without leo there to wrangle them. This dependency on one sole family member, one who’s presumably the same age as the other turtles and is by no means their parent, just does not sit right with me and makes me feel even worse for the guy. So leo has to just keep going, while getting no familial or any sort of support from anyone. No, leo just has to do better i guess. Meanwhile, raph’s got a great friend in casey, who takes the time to listen to poor raph’s woes. And what does raph do in turn when casey needs someone to lend him an ear? Falls asleep and ignores all of what casey says. Awesome. 

After their failure of a fight, raph makes it clear the next morning that the person he blames is leo and leo alone. It could never be his own fault for charging in recklessly without a plan and ignoring splinter’s orders, oh no, let’s blame leo, our convenient scapegoat. Apparently in the prequel comics leo and raph have always had somewhat of a turbulent relationship, so that’s rough. 

Really minor, but I also felt bad for leo when raph, semi-conscious from the dart, told leo to go back the jungle. I’m used to these sorts of drugs lowering inhibition in their targets in fiction, making them reveal things they’d normally never say, but are their true feelings. Apparently raph’s true feeling . . . is that he wants leo to leave. ouch.

It was so sad seeing leo go from fighting the nightwatcher to fighting raph. When he was fighting the nightwatcher, he was taking him down so easily. But when he’s fighting raph, it’s clear that he can’t bring himself to go all out, even when raph isn’t pulling his punches. Leo says he was training to be a better leader, and that he was training to be better for raph, and point blank asks why raph hates him for that, confirming my suspicion that yes, leo does think raph hates him. Raph, meanwhile, is trying to convince himself, the audience, and leo that he never needed leo because he’s still jealous or whatever. He fixates on the idea that he doesnt want to be led, and that THAT is his main issue. Okay buddy. I see right through him, but i don’t know if leo does. I don’t blame leo for thinking that raph hates him, because i myself have a hard time believing that raph cares about leo.

Maybe leo gets a lot of flack for saying that he’s better than raph, but honestly, i was cheering for him. Go off king. I don’t know why people act as if raph had any semblance of a point at any time during this movie. I don’t know why people act as though LEO was the one in the wrong here. Leo said nothing but the truth.

Leo: You aren't ready. You're impatient and hot-tempered. And more importantly, I'm better than you.

And he’s right. Throughout the whole movie, raph has been nothing BUT impatient and hot tempered. Raph has been unreliable as ever this whole movie, being reckless and endangering both himself and his family as the nightwatcher. Bro is making headlines. Did raph ever stop to think of what would happen if something happened out there and he had no backup? Did he stop to think what would happen if he was ever followed home? Or exposed? If raph’s identity is exposed, they’re all exposed because they’re all mutant turtles, and their names and mask colors aren’t going to make much difference to the public.

How exactly is leo wrong here? Or should i be scolding him for being so mean to poor raphie? Why, especially when raph has done nothing but be hostile to this dude for no reason the whole movie.

raph breaks leo’s swords and nearly impales leo?? What?? Leo nearly gets KILLED by his own brother. What a welcoming reunion. Seriously, with family like this, who needs enemies?  I can’t imagine how terrifying it would be to be put in that position by your own sibling, but Leo doesn’t even look scared as he’s staring up at raph. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t yelling. He was just resigned. Did he truly believe raph would have killed him in that moment? I don’t know, but leo’s mindset cannot be healthy. If this was mikey that raph had pinned to the ground, the tmnt fandom would have been up in arms. But because it’s leo, it’s fine because “he can handle it,” i guess. 

And raph’s stupidity gets leo captured. Instead of owning up to his actions, that yes, you very nearly DID just kill your own brother, he abandons leo and leaves him defenseless on the rooftop, where of course, he gets captured. He lets out a loud yell as he’s getting captured, probably to let raph know he needs help because bro is the only one around. Either way, that’s another sort of terrifying, to have to rely on the person who nearly killed you, but leo doesn’t have a choice. Not that raph even succeeds in getting leo back in that moment. Leo’s knocked out for most of the next part, raph supposedly gets character development and resolves his conflict with leo by . . . not talking to him and saving him from captivity. Hooray, raph cares for his brother’s life? But this doesn’t solve anything, because for all leo knows, raph still despises him as a person. They didn’t talk through ANYTHING, so how is leo supposed to know what raph is thinking? 

I kind of wish leo could just go back to the jungle and continue being the ghost of the jungle. I know he’d be without his family (and honestly i’d say good riddance), but at least there, he was actually respected. Leo didn’t want to get too involved with the residents there, and they respected his wishes and didn’t bother him, but were clearly respectful and appreciative of what he’d done for them. Unfortunately, i can’t say the same for his family. 

Anyway, sorry for this huge rant, anon, but thank you for the ask! Gave me an excuse to ramble about this film.

[trickstarbrave]

WIP WHENEVER

HIIIIIIIIII im very excited to share this wip. im so mad i wrote this out of order bc i wanna post it immediately. im looking forward tho to finally being able to edit and post it on ao3 normally

i got tagged by @caliblorn and @your-talos-is-problematic and im taggingggggg @woundjob, @thescrolls-haveforetold, @wellthebardsdead and my roommate @soundwavefucker69

here is smth for moon and star. lots of lorkhan talk. some chim. some trauma. even some dagoth ur

literally i was like "oh yeah. its all coming together" writing this also its long im sorry

also here is my god!nerevar sketch. can be interpreted also as just how lorkhan appears to neht and the ppl around him

Malacath’s hand touched his chest and pain wracked his body. Nerevar could feel the blade cutting away his skin—cutting through the bone of his sternum and splintering it. It ripped apart and opened his ribcage, before that damn hand was then inside his chest. His anxiety spiked as he could feel phantom touches on his heart, a hand gripping it, long claws digging into the muscle as it continued to beat loud and sturdy. His whole body had gone rigid, nostrils flared and his breathing coming in quick pants desperate to get more air in his lungs. 

He was terrified. More than terrified, in fact. It was like being killed in the heart chamber but all the more worse somehow. He was choking now, gagging on blood—thick, black blood that was pouring from his chest, bubbling up in his throat.

And then Nerevar was overcome with the urge to laugh. To laugh besides the terror coursing through him, to laugh even though he was gagging and choking on his own blood. He knew he would die; it had been a part of his plan all along. He hadn’t known what death would be like, but he had anticipated it, at least on his own terms. And yet here Trinimac was, killing him himself. Ripping his heart from his chest. 

He had intended the first death to be slow and simple. A fading ember rather than a bright, all encompassing flame that destroyed everything with it. He had intended to bear the burden as the cause of the first death in their reality where death did not yet exist—was merely a theory. But here Trinimac was, unknowingly mantling that sin himself. A cruel irony he would be the one to blame for this. It was not his fault, but it would be his responsibility and duty.

He’d collapsed at some point, gasping, crying, and choking on blood as Voryn held him close. Voryn shouldn’t see him like this—not his beloved, sobbing and begging. He couldn’t hear his voice over the drumming of his own heart but he tried to speak despite all the gagging he was doing. His gorgeous, sweet lover, his beautiful hawk shouldn’t have to watch him die like this. Not when Nerevar knew this was coming, deep down. Not when he had doomed them both, sacrificed Voryn’s life on the altar just as much as his own. He was regretting it now, if only because he couldn’t apologize; how could he speak when Trinimac had already ripped out his heart? How could he explain he never wanted to hurt Voryn in truth? How would his beloved hawk even react to his death? Oh the fury he could bring down, how he could drown the world in blood and tears if he was pushed to the brink…

And what of Azura, his sister? His poor, vain, vindictive sister… She hadn’t agreed to help him, but he knew she would be in a rage over his death. And even the man killing him was sobbing and crying, apologizing despite his lord—Nerevar’s own brother—ordering his execution. How could he apologize to this man? To tell him he knew he didn’t mean for it, that Nerevar was the villain all along in this story? Would that soothe his grief? Trinimac, Kyne, Azura, all of the others… How would they fair without him? Tears were now spilling from his eyes not from pain but sorrow that he wouldn’t be there to comfort and love them. Ah, if only he could kiss his hawk one last time…

“Nerevar!” Voryn’s voice finally cut through, and a disconnect happened in the vision. He was untethered now, the sensation of falling back into his own body hitting him, and his ears were ringing loudly, a dizziness washing over him. There were no more feathers on Voryn’s face or on his cloak—why would there be? Voryn wasn’t… Voryn wasn’t a hawk, why would he call him that so fondly? There weren’t even tears streaming down his face like he had seen before, but his face was in a grimace, pained watching him writhe and flail choking on imaginary blood.

His hand came up to his chest as he felt around, but there was no gaping wound like he’d expected. Why had he felt it so clearly then? His whole body was still shaking from the terror and pain, unable to calm the trembling. 

“Do you remember now, Lorkhan?” Malacath asked, still standing over him. Vivec and Sil were currently being held back by the numerous orcs, though they were swearing up a storm and desperately trying to fight their way closer to defend him. Even Voryn had a spell prepared as he cradled Nerevar close to his chest, posed with the ferocity of a wild animal protecting its young.

“I-I’m not…” Nerevar began, though it felt like a lie on his tongue. He could still taste the metallic black in his mouth, the unnatural blood he was choking on. His body felt hot now, his mouth dry making the metallic taste all the more nauseating. “Lorkhan is dead!” He shouted definitively. Lorkhan was a dead god—long dead before Nerevar had ever been born as a lowly half blooded chimer in that ebony mine. 

“And yet, here you are, alive and in the flesh.” Malacath responded, his expression unwavering. “I would know that heartbeat anywhere. I would know how you battle more than anyone else.”

“Stop it!” Nerevar shouted, covering his ears, still shaking. 

“Why you deny it is my only question for you.” 

“I’m not Lorkhan!” Nerevar growled, teeth bared. His whole body felt like it was burning, just like in the heart chamber. That supernatural chanting from his dream came back too, at the edges of his senses, as he fought back the urge to vomit. “I’m not Lorkhan, just shut up, shut up, shut up!!” 

The next thing he knew, everything went black, the last thing he heard being his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and Voryn calling his name. 

--

Nerevar’s eyes snapped open. His hands frantically touched at his chest, once again checking for the wound, only to find nothing. Still, the unmistakable ache was there, however faint. 

“Where…?” He found himself someplace… Bizarre. There was stone architecture, that much he knew, but it seemed… Foreign, though they were in a state of disarray. It looked like some kind of abandoned tower, the roof having long since caved in, vines growing over stone. In the middle, where Nerevar was laying was soft grass and a few wildflowers. He sat up, looking around even further, confused. 

“Damn Trinimac, causing problems again…” Someone behind him muttered, and Nerevar quickly turned to see--

Himself? 

He jumped, panicked. No, no he could tell it wasn’t himself. He looked a lot like Nerevar, and sounded a lot like Nerevar, but there was something off about his appearance. He was taller than Nerevar--around Voryn’s height maybe? His hair was much longer too, not to mention he was wearing long robes Nerevar would never wear given how complicated and annoying they looked. Not to mention the longer he looked at him the more his appearance seemed to change--subtle ripples you had to focus on to know. His eyes subtly changed shape, along with his other features, sort of at random in moments where if you blinked you’d miss them. 

“Apologies for that.” The man said, walking over and plopping down to sit next to Nerevar. “I never expected his followers to summon him, nor that he’d do something like that…”

“Who are you?” Nerevar asked, his heart still racing in his chest. The other simply plopped his chin in his hand, staring back at Nerevar, amused.

“You and your lover--both just asking questions instead of even trying to figure it out for yourselves…” He tsk-tsked with a soft click of his tongue and a shake of his head. 

“How the hell am I supposed to know who you are?” Nerevar snapped. “I don’t even know where I am!” 

“Easy, no need to raise your voice.” He still looked amused, despite Nerevar’s anger. 

“Why in Oblivion do you look like me?” Nerevar demanded an answer now; he was in no mood to play games at the moment. He felt his heart being ripped out by that damn orc god and now he had someone playing mind games with him. 

The other sighed.

“I am Lorkhan.” Nerevar’s blood ran cold. 

“What…?” Nerevar stared in confusion and shock. “But Lorkhan is--”

“Dead?” He asked with a smirk and a quirk of his brow. “Don’t I know it.” Lorkhan then laughed heartily. “But when did that stop the dead from interfering with the living from time to time?”

“Why are you here?” Nerevar asked, leaning away from him. 

“I thought it would be only fair to show myself to you after that stunt Trinimac pulled.” He explained. “Though I imagine the fact you were stabbed through the chest once before only made it that much harder for you.”

Nerevar was trying to figure out the situation he was in, putting the pieces together the best he could. Several daedra called him Lorkhan, and here was Lorkhan looking remarkably similar to Nerevar. Was it possible people were mixing them up based on appearance? That didn’t seem quite right; it would make sense for Malacath and potentially Dagon, but Dagon didn’t call him Lorkhan initially, and not to mention it wouldn’t explain the nords. He doubted the elf hating people of Skyrim would so readily accept an elven appearance for their chief deity. Nor did it explain the strange, supernatural beating of his heart that drove him to accomplish strange feats out of sheer willpower alone. 

“... Why do you look like me?” Nerevar repeated his question again.

“Come now, I thought you’d be smart enough to figure that out.” Lorkhan laughed again. 

“Answer me.” 

“Well,” Lorkhan’s grin looked mischievous now. “It’s only fitting I look like you because I am you, don’t you think?”

This time a numbing tingle followed the chill in his blood. “Y… You…”

“Or well, I suppose it might be easier to understand if I say you’re a part of me.” Lorkhan continued. “You wouldn’t be the first mortal to be a fragment of me, anyways.”

“I’m not you!” Nerevar snapped, gritting his teeth. He did what he was best at: lashing out when he was truly scared and confused--when problems became too difficult to ignore or solve on his own. “I’m not you! I’m not Lorkhan!!”

Silence followed, the faint sound of birds chirping having vanished, the sky turning a stormy gray. He was panting from his outburst of yelling, but the screaming hadn’t really solved anything. Lorkhan was still sitting in front of him, looking at him with a serious expression, unphased. He was still in this crumbling tower, sitting in the grass. 

How long could he run from this? Daedric princes called him Lorkhan. The nords called him Shor. The strange visions he received that only made sense if they were Lorkhan’s memories, not to mention his heart--

Nerevar curled up, hands moving up as he felt a pain in his chest, clutching his shirt tightly. 

He was scared. He was scared and he didn’t know what was going on. He was terrified because ultimately, he didn’t know what this meant. He didn’t know what this made him.

Gingerly, two arms wrapped around him, pulling him up from the fetal position he curled himself into and into a warm embrace.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lorkhan whispered, “Just let it out.” As soon as he said that, tears were flowing out of Nerevar’s eyes as he openly sobbing into his shoulder, holding onto him. Nerevar never really had a father--as the Nerevarine he was an orphan who didn’t really know who his parents were and as Nerevar his father was hunted down before the two of them ever met. But at that moment Nerevar couldn’t deny there was something paternal in the way Lorkhan held him gently, letting him cry and sob with arms that felt so much stronger than Nerevar could imagine. As alien as it was, he felt safe in his arms, the pain in his chest fading though he was still distraught and crying. 

Eventually though, his tears died down to soft whimpers rather than open sobs, Lorkhan stroking his hair all the while. 

“It’s alright.” He repeated, trying to reassure Nerevar.

“It’s not alright.” Nerevar countered. “If I’m just you that means I don’t really exist!” It was the truth; if he was just some shard of Lorkhan then he had no real identity of his own. He was just a piece of a larger whole, delusional in that it thought itself independent and separate. “No one really knows me. No one really loves me.” The person Voryn loved wasn’t even real, just a false identity of someone who denied who they truly were. Was the person Voryn actually loved just the pieces of Lorkhan that made up Nerevar? Lorkhan said there were other mortals like him--what if Voryn left him for someone who was a larger, better part of Lorkhan? “I’m just a part of you, an extension of you. I don’t have any thoughts or feelings of my own!”

“Hey now, that’s not true.” Lorkhan interjected. “If you had no thoughts or feelings of your own, how could you deny being me?” 

“But--”

“You have thoughts and feelings and emotions of your own.” Lorkhan reiterated. “You have your own identity, your own history, your own relationships.” Lorkhan gently dried the tears on his cheeks, careful of the sharp nails on his hands. “You don’t have all the same traits as me, and likewise, how you act on things is entirely up to you.” 

“But then how am I you?” Nerevar asked, apprehensive. 

“Hm… How to explain this…” Lorkhan began, humming softly, trying to gather his thoughts. “... Do you know that sometimes people take cuttings from plants to make a new one?”

Nerevar did know that, though he’d never done so himself. He was bad at growing plants, but he’d heard of it a few times. 

“When they take a cutting from a tree for instance, it was once a part of that tree.” Lorkhan continued. “One of the many, smaller branches of it. But with care and cultivation, it grows roots of its own, and then spreads itself deep into the soil as a little sapling, before finally growing into a tree itself.” Lorkhan then smiled at him. “You’re like a cutting made from me that grew into its own tree. We might be made up of the same things and bear the same fruit, but you might have different branches than me and grow in different ways.” 

“... But what if someone only loves that tree because of its fruit?” Nerevar asked. 

What if Voryn only loved him for the parts of him that were Lorkhan? What if, when Voryn found out, he became disillusioned? Why would he bother with having Nerevar as a lover if he was just a part of a larger whole? What if there was a better piece of Lorkhan out there to love, or he could simply worship the dead god in earnest to get closer to the source?

Lorkhan responded by pinching his cheek playfully, pulling Nerevar from his mental spiral.

“Then someone doesn’t really love that tree specifically, now do they?” 

“But--”

“Trees are much more than the fruit they bear.” Lorkhan continued, cutting him off. “They provide shade in the sun, and shelter in the rain. They are homes for birds, and the wind whistles through the branches to make music, or even children play in the branches and leaves.” Lorkhan was still smiling at him warmly. “Even if they love the fruit it makes too, not just any fruit tree can be their tree. And if they only love the fruit, wouldn’t you prefer someone who really loved the tree to take care of it rather than someone who only cared about what the tree produced?” 

Ah, Nerevar saw what he was getting at here. If Voryn only loved the parts of him that were Lorkhan and didn’t care about him otherwise, that meant he didn’t really love Nerevar. Nerevar’s hand reached over to caress the scar on his left shoulder gently, unable to really feel it through his shirt and armor, but comforted by the knowledge it was there nonetheless. 

Would Voryn have really asked Nerevar to carve his name into him if he didn’t love Nerevar? Perhaps the rest of Lorkhan didn’t appeal to Voryn. Perhaps the other traits other mortals shared with Lorkhan weren’t the same as how Nerevar was. Nerevar wanted to trust Voryn with his heart and make this work--he shouldn’t be assuming once again that Voryn would be quick to leave him and replace him with someone else. Voryn committed to Nerevar.

“There we go.” Lorkhan smiled, seeing his stormy expression fade. 

“... But I don’t know what any of this means.” Nerevar continued. “Why am I a part of you? What does any of this mean?” How was he supposed to move forward like this? How many other daedra would challenge him calling him Lorkhan? “How can I tell what’s my thoughts and abilities and what’s just yours? How can I tell if I’m even real?” 

That was the part Nerevar was still grappling with. If he was called Lorkhan and acted like Lorkhan and did what Lorkhan was supposed to do… Didn’t that just make him Lorkhan? When he was the Nerevarine he slowly just assumed Nerevar’s memories, thoughts, and identity after he was sent back in time--or was going back in time not real either. “The future--what about my memories of the future? Are those fake too or--”

Lorkhan smiled softly, almost knowingly. 

“Oh little star,” Lorkhan chuckled as though he was recounting something funny. “None of your memories of the future are real.”

“... Huh?” They weren’t… Real? “But Dagoth Ur--the Tribunal--” Didn’t Vivec have a vision of Nerevar being killed as king? That was in the future Nerevar saw as well.

“None of it was real.” Lorkhan was still smiling, but Nerevar was sent spiraling again. 

It was all so real. Nerevar could feel it. He felt Vivec’s spear ramming through him. He could hear the hurt and betrayal in Dagoth Ur’s voice, along with the cold anger as he revealed he would never be able to trust Nerevar even if Nerevar had agreed to join him. Almalexia had attempted to kill him a second time as the Nerevarine, and he remembered fighting her after discovering Sotha Sil’s mangled corpse. 

Panic set in then. If none of that was real then… Why did he not remember his past? Why had he dreamed up such a strange turn of events? Why--

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Lorkhan leaned in close, a devilish smirk on his face now. “I’m not real either.”

Nerevar blinked in shock, only to find Lorkhan was gone. In fact, everything was gone now, leaving Nerevar floating in an inky, black void. 

Nerevar’s panic rose at that. It could have been Lorkhan just telling him he was a figment of Nerevar’s imagination and not actually the ghost of a dead god but… Nerevar knew that wasn’t the case. He could feel it, deep in the pit of his stomach, and the revelation was not a comforting one. He was left entirely untethered in this void, and looking down at his hands, he saw himself flickering in and out. 

If Nerevar was Lorkhan, and Lorkhan didn’t exist, then that meant that he didn’t exist either. Really didn’t exist. It was so much more comfortable to imagine himself as a shard of Lorkhan, living and moving on its own, ignorant to the fact it was part of a larger whole. 

A clawed hand touched his back and a sickening chill overtook him as he found himself in the heart chamber of Red Mountain once again. He was trembling as he continued to flicker in and out of existence. The heart’s rhythm was equally unsteady, stopping and starting at random, the sounds a disjointed mess. 

If the heart of the world was not stable--was not real--then what did that make the world?

What did that make his friends? The people he loved? 

What did that make Voryn?

A familiar voice called out to him, large, clawed hands gripping him tightly and pulling him in close.

“I told you once before,” Dagoth Ur began, “We are bound to the dreamsleeve together.” Nerevar knew that wasn’t right, but he didn’t know how to counter it either. 

“I am the dreamer,” Dagoth Ur continued, “And this is all my dream, my sweet Nerevar.” Nerevar didn’t like the fondness in his tone. This was a twisted version of Voryn, corrupted and maddened, fully delusional. He preferred Voryn sane and warm, affectionate and protective. He didn’t want the delirious, maddened version of him that was Dagoth Ur.

Then, the two had changed locations. Instead of the heart chamber with the unsteady heartbeat echoing around them, they were in what seemed to be a rainbow colored river, all the different colors flowing in strange, glowing patterns. They moved up and down, left and right, forwards and backwards, swirls of color that flowed like incoherent water simultaneously both much thicker and almost syrupy than pure water, and also like it was barely there as they caressed his legs. Each movement came with a strange, fragmented thought, emotion, or memory. 

“You are simply a part of my dream.” Dagoth Ur’s hands moved to the front of him now, caressing at his chest. “My most glorious, beautiful creation…” 

Nerevar knew that wasn’t true either though. It was an instinctive knowledge, perhaps, but he could tell that was simply not the case. If there was a dreamer, it certainly wasn’t Dagoth Ur. 

And then Nerevar looked to his hands to see he was a dunmer again, grey skin and all to match the equally grey hands on his chest. One of Nerevar’s hands moved to caress the scar left from corprus he got as a Nerevarine when he was forcibly attacked to infect him with it, sending him further in his quest, ironically. The scar was an ugly, messy thing--a gross mess of scar tissue trying in vain to form over an injury that wasn’t truly there, growing more mangled and grotesque by the day. Before he couldn’t remember where the attack was from Gares, as his memories of the Third Era faded more and more with his time in Resdayn like a hazy dream, leaving him unsure if it was on his chest, his stomach, his thigh, or his arm. But now he remembered it was--

All of them. He had been hit by the attack in all of those places, in different moments in time, in different versions of the same event. And in that way, it wasn’t one moment specifically but simply an event that could have played out differently, in a way bending and contorting around the flow of fate. And just as he realized it, the scar itself faded entirely. 

“Nerevar, stop this.” Dagoth Ur warned, his voice concerned. Almost frightened if Nerevar was being honest, though he knew the other wouldn’t admit to it. 

“It… Didn’t happen.” 

“Yes, it did.” Dagoth ur stressed, but Nerevar stepped away from his hands, walking along the multicolored river. “Do you doubt your own memories? My own memories?” Dagoth Ur insisted. “Just as that was my dream, this too is my dream. A dream where we get to be together.” His voice took on a facsimile of warmth and affection. “A dream where nothing can keep us apart--”

“No,” Nerevar countered, his voice soft. “It happened and… It didn’t. Just how this… None of this is real either.” The thought wasn’t as scary as it was the first time around. In fact, the revelation seemed to almost bring some relief. He dipped his hand into the liquid that pooled around his thighs, running his fingers through it in what seemed to be an arbitrary pattern, relishing in the feelings that washed over him. Like this, he could make them seem coherent. Like this he could move them until he could faintly hear a song--

“Nerevar Mora, return to my side at once.” Dagoth Ur’s tone was threatening again. It seemed that Nerevar had gotten under his skin. 

“You are not a god. I’m not a figment of your dream…” Nerevar could insist if anything he might be the one dreaming all of this up but… He knew that wasn’t quite right either. Lorkhan didn’t exist. Nerevar didn’t exist, so he couldn’t be the one dreaming. But he knew he wasn’t a figment of Dagoth Ur’s imagination, that was for certain. “... And you’re not a figment of mine.”

Dagoth Ur was in front of him again, clawed hands gripping his arms tightly while his teeth audibly grit from behind the gold mask. “If I am not the dreamer then you’re saying I don’t exist! Do you even understand what you’re saying?!” His hands gripped Nerevar’s arms even tighter, but Nerevar himself was unphased. “I exist because I say I exist. You exist because I allow you to exist.”

“Or have you forgotten your nightmares? The memories of me?” Dagoth ur changed gears now that he saw it wasn’t persuading Nerevar. “Have you forgotten the way you shuddered at my touch? Or the way I could make such sweet, passionate love to you that you forgot everything else?” Nerevar had to admit he did in fact enjoy those moments with Voryn; Nerevar loved nothing more than losing himself completely in Voryn’s body, of being unable to think about nothing else but how wonderful Voryn could make him feel. But Nerevar knew he couldn’t forget this whole mess even happened and fall readily back into Voryn’s arms, trying to delude himself that it was real. He knew he’d go mad even trying, unable to take joy from it as he tried to deny the reality he was confronted with before. 

“Do not make me rip you asunder and remake you.” Dagoth Ur threatened, venom dripping off his tongue. But at the threat, Nerevar reached his hands out, cupping the golden mask in them, before throwing the mask off entirely. 

His face looked like Voryn’s but so much older and more tired. His eyes were dead, glazed over and foggy, with only the third eye on his forehead seemingly capable of sight. His complexion was equally dead--ashen even for a dunmer. A dead sleeper who dreamed he was still alive, just as that wise woman said so long ago. 

Nerevar leaned up, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. He didn’t like this maddened version of Voryn, but he knew he still loved him. He loved Dagoth Ur and mourned for him. As horrible as it was, it was a mercy for Nerevar to slay him as the Nerevarine. It was a mercy for things to return to the past so they could have a better future, one where Nerevar wouldn’t hurt him as cruelly as he did the first time around. 

Then, just as the gentle kiss started, Nerevar pulled away, whispering softly. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he even realized it, but the truth spoken in them was more real than anything else he had seen. 

“I already unmade you.” 

Dagoth Ur stared down at him in shock, before, like ash in the wind, he faded. And Nerevar was left standing alone in the dreamsleeve. 

Yet, something was gnawing at his psyche. If Dagoth Ur was not the dreamer and didn’t allow him to exist, then what was his purpose? If this was all a dream, then who was dreaming? 

Dread washed over Nerevar again, overwhelming him as he felt like someone or something was watching him. Like he was a tiny insect crawling where he shouldn’t have, about to be crushed by the figure that finally realized he existed. 

Yet, part of Dagoth Ur’s words made sense. He wasn’t real. None of this was real. Nerevar could either stand there and accept it and fade into the liquid around him and dissolve into nothingness…

Or he could insist he did exist. That he wanted to exist. That he wanted to continue on, in spite of how nonsensical it was. 

“... I exist because I will it.” Nerevar knew he wasn’t the dreamer, but he existed in spite of it. He refused to vanish and become nothing more than a disjointed collective of memories free floating around him. 

“Well done.” Lorkhan’s voice echoed, and Nerevar found himself once more in the black, inky void, outside of the dreamsleeve. “I was a bit afraid you might not be able to handle it,” He chuckled softly, “But I can see it was silly of me to worry. You already remade the world, you’d be ready to handle the revelation of the tower.” 

“Was that… You?” Nerevar questioned, wondering if Lorkhan took on the appearance of Dagoth Ur just to help him along. 

“No. What was in fact a remnant of Dagoth Ur, based on your memories.”

“My memories?” Nerevar raised a brow, as the crumbling tower and soft grass slowly came back into focus around him, real and present once more. It was more comfortable than just free floating anyways. 

“Things can’t exist if nothing remembers them.” Lorkhan explained. “But you remembered him, so he continued hiding and lurking…”

“Would he…” Nerevar began, apprehensively. “Would Voryn have become him again…?”

“No.” Lorkhan’s voice was firm and confident, making Nerevar relieved. “Your beloved has already rejected that path.”

“Then how could he exist?”

“He existed outside of Voryn. A part of him and also not. Perhaps in a way also part of you?” It was a confusing explanation, but Nerevar supposed that was in line with everything else so far. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t exist anymore--not as he did just now.” Lorkhan hummed softly again. “Now he’s merely a memory, returned to water once more.” 

“I… Don’t understand.” Once again, Lorkhan reached over to pinch Nerevar’s cheek.

“Yes you do, don’t lie to me about that.” 

“I mean I get that he’s no longer a problem since I just saw him vanish but I don’t… Know how I did that.” 

“He was mostly tied to you. It would have been very easy for anyone in those circumstances to cut him off.” Lorkhan clicked his tongue. “Then again, I suppose not everyone can be connected to the dreamsleeve and confront not existing as well as you did.”

“So I don’t exist?” It was a question, but not asking for an answer more so a confirmation that he was understanding it correctly. 

“You don’t. And yet, you do.” Lorkhan confirmed, before elaborating. “All of us exist in that state. But I made Nirn in the first place because I realized it was impossible to move beyond that revelation and actually do something about it without real growth--growth that can only come from trial.”

“... What?” Now he was losing Nerevar. Go beyond the revelation of not existing? How would you even move past something like that? 

“Dagoth Ur had a few things correct I’ll admit.” Lorkhan continued, almost rambling now given how little it made sense to Nerevar. “The trial of flesh is needed to overcome the dream…”

“Again, I don’t really understand.” Nerevar interjected, before Lorkhan sighed.

“Ah… Right. I’m getting ahead of myself.” He then reached over, pulling Nerevar into a hug once more. “We don’t have all day, unfortunately. Linear time still exists.” He gave Nerevar’s back a firm pat. “I would explain if I could but… Well, we’d be here for some time. I think your beloved is calling you.” A ringing was in Nerevar’s ears now, the rest of the dream getting fuzzier and fuzzier. 

“Voryn…?” Nerevar asked, before his eyes cracked open. 

He wasn’t in the grass, but laying on Voryn’s cot, blinking up in a confused daze. It was night, that he could tell from how dark it was in the tent. Beside him, he heard a gasp, as Voryn looked to him frantically. 

“Oh thank gods,” Voryn looked close to tears. “Nerevar, do you have any idea how worried I was?” He cupped Nerevar’s cheek, his hand warm and familiar. It felt like Nerevar had been away for ages and also hardly any time at all. “I thought I almost lost you again…”

“I’m alright,” Nerevar sat up slowly, but his arms felt weak. “How long was I out for…?”

“More than a day.” Voryn explained, before helping support Nerevar’s upper body, settling Nerevar to lean against him. “Nothing we did could wake you up. We wanted to raze that damn orc camp to the ground,” He could hear the anger in Voryn’s voice. “But Malacath said his people would assist us and that you would wake up in time.” 

Nerevar could tell Voryn hadn’t believed the prince--not after what seemed like an attack on Nerevar. 

“I’m fine now.” Nerevar insisted, stroking Voryn’s face. “I’m--”

“Is he awake?” Vivec asked from outside the tent, and Voryn stiffened under Nerevar’s weight.

“He just woke up--” Voryn began, “Give him a few minutes to regain his senses before you shake him down for answers.”

Vivec entered the tent now, his brow furrowed. “You swore I could ask my questions when he awoke.” 

“At least give him until the morning.” Voryn pleaded. Vivec looked between the two of them, and it seemed that Nerevar looked haggard enough for Vivec to relent, though he was unhappy about doing so. 

“Fine,” Vivec scowled, leaving the tent once more. “In the morning I want answers.”

[unclejezzzy]

Dazzling Starlet, Bardot Reincarnate

It’s 1990. Eddie Munson did Steve Harrington the favour of being his first male sexual encounter and is filled with deep regret when Steve Harrington shows up at his apartment needing his help months later.

OR: Steve’s parents find magazines under his bed and Eddie begrudgingly lets him stay at his apartment and hates every second even though hes secretly a sweetie with a soft spot

"I cannot fucking believe it." Eddie grumbled, arm leaning against the surface of the bar as he glared over the rim of his glass.

"What?" Robin asked, immediately averting her gaze to Eddie's line of sight.

"Oh, you're talking about Steve again. Shocking." Robin sang, tone tainted in sarcasm.

It had been three months since Eddie had kicked Steve out of his apartment the morning after their surprising, yet oddly exhilarating sexual excursion.

He'd done Steve a favour, Eddie got laid. Quid pro quo. All's fair in sex and war.

Eddie was of the assumption that he was free of him, that life would go back to normal after Steve Harrington. Like plucking a blood sucking leech from your skin knee deep in a shallow river or finally digging out that splinter in your finger with a pair of tweezers.

But no.

Because Steve Harrington was everywhere.

All of the time.

Dancing, flirting, kissing.

He'd become a regular at Eddie's most sacred place. His Nirvana, his church. Valhalla, Abraham's bosom, whatever you wanted to call it.

Thursday to Saturday, as soon as those club doors opened at 9pm, there he was. He'd even made friends with the bouncers so he could skip the queue each time. The guy had a fucking membership card and every single person in there knew who he was.

Eddie shrugged it off at first. He's young, he's finding himself. He deserves to blow off some steam and have a little fun. The sex was pretty much the only joy of being gay so he couldn't blame him too much.

Eddie would watch him saunter up to past, present - and what he was hoping were future - flings without a care in the world. He cut his T-shirts up into crop tops to show off his abs, he started wearing eyeliner, he would tease and flirt with anyone who so much as looked in his direction.

He had a posse of men around him at all times with their hands all over him.

And Eddie was forced to bear witness to all of it.

Eddie whips around to face Robin behind the bar, slamming his glass down on the surface.

"I used to be the best fucking ride in here. Then he comes along acting like he owns the place and everyone flocks to him like Jesus' disciples after he waltzed out of his cave." Eddie seethed through gritted teeth.

"They're just a bunch of cock starved hedonists. Y'know I thought we had a little humility about us. Evidently fucking not."

Robin rolled her eyes, drying a glass with a dish towel.

"He's just the hot new thing, you know how this place goes. Some other poor unsuspecting twink will come along in a week and everyone will forget about him."

"I literally taught him everything he knows."

"Well - at least you don't have to deal with him anymore. You did him a solid and now he's - giving everyone else a solid." Robin snickered.

Eddie downed his drink, sliding the empty glass across the bar.

"Makes me sick." He spat.

"You're not jealous are you?" Robin smiled slyly as she poured a single measurement full of Eddie's favourite whiskey.

Jim Beam. Old reliable, Jim. That was the one man who couldn't piss Eddie off even if he tried.

"No, no - I'm not fucking jealous."

"Sounds like you're jealous." Robin thinned her lips and widened her eyes cautiously as she handed Eddie his drink.

"Screw you, man. I just think it's a bit rich coming from the guy who didn't even know how to finger himself three months ago." Robin grimaced as Eddie took a hefty sip.

"Like, how good can he be really? He's a bottom, all he does is lay there. I was the one doing all the work! Me!" He exclaimed as Robin continued to stare at him.

"What?"

"It just sounds like you're a bit upset that after your steamy night of passion, he seems to have forgotten all about you."

"That doesn't upset me." Eddie sneered.

"Its preferable he forgets all about me. I like it that way."

"Sure." Robin said, lowering her gaze to bite back a smile she was desperately trying hard to hide from Eddie.

"Are you forgetting that I could have had him again? I'm the one who sent him packing the next morning. I didn't get down on my knees and beg him to stay. I wanted him gone."

"Well, there you go then. I don't know what you're so uptight about!" Robin declared, slapping her hands against her thighs in defeat.

Eddie turned around, realising he wasn't going to be getting the validation from Robin anytime soon. Ever the pacifist.

Eddie watched as Steve raked a hand through his hair - his already cropped shirt lifting even higher as Eddie's eyes unwillingly glazed over the scope of his body.

God.

Steve gleamed at Eddie, making his way over to the bar.

"Oh my fucking God there's no escape is there." Eddie muttered.

"Hey." Steve called out breathlessly, smiling at Eddie.

"Hi." Eddie grumbled, leaning back against the bar and crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

"You look like you're having fun."

"I would say the same for you, but - looks a bit dry over here." He retaliated, directing his attention to Robin and offering her a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Could I get a vodka lime and soda please, Robin?"

"Sure thing!" Robin responded.

A little too politely for Eddie's liking.

"Vodka lime and soda? What are you a forty year old woman watching her figure?" Eddie mocked, peering at Steve in his peripheral.

"Well - I was gonna offer to buy you a drink"-

"No thanks. I don't take handouts." He interjected, hurriedly.

"So testy." Steve acknowledged - folding his arms against the bar, elbow knocking against Eddie's as he situated himself mere inches against his face.

"And for your information - It's the opposite of dry, thank you very much. We're having a blast."

"Yeah, it's a real hoot and a half over here." Robin deadpanned, topping Steve's drink off with soda water.

"Coulda fooled me." Steve shrugged.

"Not going out there?" He asked, cocking his head over to the main floor filled with bustling bodies.

"Nah, just observing tonight. I'm not interested in chasing around a bunch of fucked out crystal queens with blown out pupils right now."

"Y'know - I've seen you a couple times - you haven't left with anybody in a while." Steve acknowledged.

"So?"

"So - could the great Eddie Munson be past his prime?"

Oh, this kid had a death wish.

Continue reading on ao3

[ilikekidsshows]

I’d say something like “I can’t believe this action cartoon from the early 2000s treats trauma victims with more respect than a more contemporary show where a main topic is dealing with your emotions,” but, at this point it’s just cruel to keep kicking a show that’s already so down low that its most recent, victim blame-y, finale is apparently the second lowest-rated episode of the entire series so far, only being beaten out by a literal recap episode. I think we can all see that this show is just better at everything it sets out to do.

Like, the way the Turtles put Leatherhead’s emotional well-being above all other concerns is so well done. While they acknowledge that Leatherhead’s strength and trauma response makes approaching him a risk, this is merely voiced as a way for Splinter to warn his sons about how to approach him, not as a way to paint Leatherhead as a “danger” to the Turtles. The only people who see Leatherbead as a beast as he himself, as part of his trauma, and the hunter literally dehumanizing all the characters in the episode equally. There was a point this episode was making with the way the guy talked about a gun having a personality while treating a speaking, feeling creature that was in obvious emotional turmoil as little more than an object.

Even the solution to the issue placed Leatherhead’s concerns over the Turtles’ own wants. They wanted to keep Leatherhead living him them, because they like his company and want to do things with him, but the episode made them realize that Leatherhead can’t handle being crowded like that right now. He’s traumatized and stressed out, and having a bunch of people demanding for his time and attention would only stress him out more. So, the Turtles get him a place of his own, where he can get his own space. But the place is only a few minutes’ walk away to make sure they can still keep being a family for each other and support Leatherhead.

[atalante241]

Welcome to my merged tmnt AU that’s very weird and doesn’t make sense

So, the premise is that somehow the 2k3, 2k12 and rottmnt universes are merged together.

The three Hamato Yoshi’s are related to each other. How? You may ask. I don’t know but I do know that they’re brothers with an age gap I don’t know the length of and that 03 Yoshi got separated at one point and ended up on the streets and taken in by the Ancient One and the story goes as usual.

So, I basically remember nothing about the clan situation with 12 Yoshi. Only that Saki rebuilt the Foot Clan after incel angsting or something. But maybe the Hamato clan had some mystic branch or whatever and Lou got to know about the Demon Shredder (separate dude from Tengu Shredder (also just now realized that this would mean that somebody decided to name Saki after the dude that got possessed (also a complete separate dude from the dude possessed by the Tengu Shredder))) if that’s how he knew about that I do not remember.

But basically everything goes as usually, but only with 12 Yoshi and Lou awkwardly sometimes going “hey bro” because they’re very distant (don’t even know each others fav colors)

Then the reasons for going to New York happen. But when 12 Splinter mutates, the man of course spends some time on the streets, and during that time he tries to get in contact with Lou but it doesn’t rly work bc he doesn’t have his actual number and Lou’s agent or whatever shoots him off. So some time goes by, eventually a bit over 7 (the 12 turtles are 8) years. And one day while scavenging 12 Splinter comes across semi-newly mutated Lou and the 4 baby turtles, there some pointing and confusion (and panic) but they calm down. 12 shows Lou to his place where the 4 8yr olds spend their time immersed in studying the babies or whatevs. During that time 12 & Lou talk and somehow realize who both of them are.

As for the 03 side. Oh boy are you in for a treat. Bc— hold on I have to re-do math bc the rise turtles have actual ages.

Oh boy are you in for a treat, bc when 12 turns 9, the 2003 show starts off. And by that I mean everything. The alien invasion, mutant outbreak (Donnie possibly getting blasted on every TV in the world (maybe it was just the UN, who knows)), the turtles getting blamed for kidnapping the president. The literal apocalypse in s5.

Imagine being 12 Splinter and Lou during that time, lol. Trying to huddle with the kids by the TV watching 5 dragons have a battle over the city. By the end of the 03 series I’d like to think 5 years have gone by, that’s includes the FF time skip. So the 12 turtles would be 14yrs old.

The 12 series would start off when they’re 15, 03 21yrs and rise being 10, 9 & 8

After this I have no idea. But all the turtles would meet at some point. No idea how or when but at some point. I can’t get the idea of how 03 Splinter is technically 12 and Lou’s nephew and the turtle their grand-nephews out of my head.

Here’s a graph that doesn’t have 0 as a time indicator bc fuck that.

Also this whole thing was born from me loving the idea of 03 Splinter being 12 and Lou’s nephew and the turtles their grand-nephews

Also I have no clue abt the whole Oroku Saki situation— wait no. I do. 03 is using the fake name bc of the (tengu) story/rumor. 12 is just named that and I surprised by the famous business man 03 Oroku Saki having the same name as him. And rise is dead.

Also it’s now 6 am and I have not slept, curse you great tmnt crossover fanfiction!

[classpectingcaxy]

So, I was wondering if you could figure out Rocky's Classpect? As promised, here's some rambling about him.

On the outside, Rocky appears like an optimist. No matter the situation, he always has that huge smile on his face, makes wise cracking comments, and keeps his chin up. It seems like even death itself can not scare him, if anything he sees everything as beautiful and can make a poem or song out of even his worst days. In a way he comes off sort of ethereal, untouchable and unreal in his cartoonish responses.

Yet, underneath that is something darker. For one, Rocky is fully capable of holding a vendetta, as shown by how he takes his vengeance on the big farmers for what they did and uses dynamite against the Marigold crew. He didn't take it to the point of murder, but he didn't really hold back either. When Rocky has enemies, he goes all out. And he makes it look like he's too childish to consider the consequences of his actions, but when that façade cracks, it becomes oh so clear he is more lucid than anyone would have ever thought, but he does it anyway.

Secondly, there's the sadder, softer side of those cracks in his façade. Simply put, Rocky is tired. He's worked himself to the bone to try to save the Lackadaisy, yet nothing he does is working. Instead, he's gotten people hurt, himself, Freckle, and Mitzi included, though the latter were more emotional than Rocky whose literally put his body and soul on the line.

What ultimately drives Rocky is the desperate need for love, rarely ever receiving it and constantly being rejected. From now to his past with an unexplained "family tragedy" Rocky was blamed for, he has been the embodiment of isolation. And so, he feels like a failure.

FHFFHHF sorry for rambling but you asked me for a rant and so you got one!

This one was TOUGH! But I think I've got it.

I think Rocky Rickaby just might be a

Prince of Heart

Analysis below the cut.

Prince

Princes are an active destroyer class. They destroy their aspect, or destroy by using their aspect. They are often plagued by their aspect in some way, and struggle with it immensely. This is shown with Eridan, who was obsessed with science and, despite his immense hope that there might be more to the world, couldn't let go of his obsession well enough to fully utilize his powers, as well as being shown with Dirk who had such a struggle with his self, his identity, that he splintered himself several times over and invented individuals to treat as family just so he wouldn't have to be with himself so much.

Princes also often put in a mask, they pretend to be something they aren't, often the opposite of their true self. Eridan, as hopeful and as gullible as he was, put on an air of science and fact and cold logic, pretending to be far smarter, far more mechanical in mind than he was. Dirk pretended to be aloof and uncaring, feeling it better to put on a mask of "whatever" rather than reveal how deeply he cared about those around him.

And lastly, Princes seem to have a critical misunderstanding of their Aspect's importance to themselves. Eridan completely disregarded Hope and it's concepts as important, and even outright destroyed the (at the time) one chance his species had to thrive, showing a complete misunderstanding of the importance of hope, both to others and to himself. Dirk was more than willing to die as many times as needed for his loved ones, even if that death was pointless, as he couldn't care less about himself, his soul, his Heart.

Altogether, this makes Princes inherently self-sacrificial, though what they sacrifice is dependent entirely on Aspect: Eridan was very selfish and focused solely on his survival and empowerment, thereby sacrificing his own chance at redemption and sacrificing his own hopes of ever having what he dreamed of, while Dirk was ready and, almost, eager to die for those around him, sacrificing himself and his own identity multiple times for others.

It also makes them very powerful, as they fully recognize the potential they bear, they simply see more of it in others, and feel it's wasted on them in some way or another.

Heart

Heart is the Aspect of identity, soul, and the self. Heart players are often self-absorbed, but not necessarily in a bad way. They can be anywhere from simply interested in figuring themselves out all the way to absolutely obsessed with themselves in every way. But in all cases, Heart players have a deep interest in themselves, in the sense that they desire to know themselves and manage themselves according to the story they want their life to be.

Heart players are also more likely to have identity issues or quirks, as their identities are usually more complicated than that of others. This can manifest as alters, identity disorders, mood disorders, or even "other selves" in a metaphorical sense, such as versions of themselves in other people's ideas of who they are, or even something as tangible as a version of themselves in a game or story.

Heart players also have an interest in certain emotions such as passion, love, and platonic relationships. This can present in several ways, from a mild interest in interpersonal dynamics all the way to an obsession with platonic, romantic, and every kind of relationship in between. They may find themselves having difficulty in understanding why others struggle with these concepts, or why others aren't interested, but are also the most likely to be understanding of their reasons when made aware, even if they disagree with them.

Overall, Heart players make for excellent emotional supports and even relationship counselors of all kinds, but are also often much more sensitive than they let on, and if their advice is rejected or turned away, or their understanding is called into question or doubt, they will likely be hurt by it long-term, be it for days or even weeks depending on the severity. This leads to many putting on a mask, something they believe will be more "socially acceptable", which often leads to them seeming aloof or distant despite being heavily invested in the lives of those around them, as well as their own.

Prince of Heart

A Prince of Heart is one who Destroys Heart or Destroys by using Heart. They turn the Self, Identity, into a destructive power when done literally, and when metaphorically, they destroy Self and Identity.

It's incredibly common for a Heart player to have an intense and overzealous personality, whatever that personality may be. One may be intensely, passionately stoic, while another may be infuriatingly solemn and reserved. Whatever their personality, Heart players rest on extremes.

Princes, on the other hand, actively mask their personality with a veneer of disregard or aloofness.

I believe Rocky fits these perfectly: His mask is the visage of one unbothered by circumstance and life. His mask is the appearance of carelessness, of carefree living, of endless joy and ceaseless artistry in the face of all things.

His personality, intense and overzealous, bleeds through in the form of just how strong that mask is. His darkness becomes abyss, his spark becomes sunlight, and so on, but he masks every ounce of his inner self, his fear and his exhaustion and his self-loathing, behind the false positivity that he's honed into a weapon through his experience with the true positivity he's felt at times.

He Destroys the gloom and misery around him by using Heart, the identity he's crafted for himself to use around others, and he Destroys his own Heart, his own identity, by suppressing it behind walls upon walls of energy, positivity, excitement, and love for life that he's long since felt draining out of him.

If this doesn't feel like the best fit, by all means let me know and I'll give it another go!

[artzzyb00-27]

{🧡Opposite Ends🧡}

Wassup fuckers, back again with a Mikey oneshots. I'm working on a Haikyuu story that is becoming a huge project of mine so I would appreciate if when it comes out y'all could go give it support.(these are copy pasted from Wattpad cause it's easier. Would yall want the Haikyuu story too? Can't promise quick updates, I'm still in highschool level of education)

Reader and the turtles have been best friends since they were little. When they were thirteen Splinter took reader in after her building burned down. She was mute so when she was confronted with teenage mutant turtles sneaking out of their home to get snacks, there wasn't much of a reaction.

After moving in they became close. The physical differences weren't a problem, and neither was the language barrier. They made it work, because that's what family does. They adjust to ones needs, mentally or emotionally. Even physically. Becoming the sister of Leo, Donnie, Raph, and Mikey had definitely been an adventure. A way of describing it was that every day was a party.

Every night was a rollercoaster. Ups and downs, twists and unpredictable moments where everything flipped upside down and it seemed like it wouldn't go back right up. These moments were when Leo and Raph argued about literally anything. Or whenever one of the brothers poked fun at reader and Leo intervened like the big brother he was to her.

Sometimes it was overwhelming, and she would get mad at him. While it was nice for him to come to her defense so quickly, it wasn't needed all the time. Like whenever Mikey flirted with her. It wasn't like he actually meant it. And Leo would always say that it wasn't appropriate, or that he shouldn't be joking around like that.

A part of her agreed with Leo, Mikey shouldn't be joking. Because otherwise it was definitely sending mixed to reader about how he really felt. She gained a small crush on the orange turtle about a year after moving into the lair. Then after the incident with Shredder and the Kraang, she began to accept the fact that though she had feelings for him, they would most likely never happen. For multiple reasons, the main one being she wasn't as pretty as the other girls he would fawn over. The other was she couldn't talk, she was worried that if anything did happen between them, he grow bored of her being quiet and break things off.

She didn't want that. For herself and everyone else around her. So when Casey and April came over and Mikey had begun his flirting spree with her, she simply smiled and walked away to her room. Headphones on and blasting music so she could calm down.

Leo glared at the little brother and just walked into the dojo to meditate about whatever he need to think about. Raph rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his little brothers shoulder.

"Ignore Leo, you've got a strong chance." Mikey smiled at his brother, appreciating the support from at least one sibling. Donnie had always just kept his distance in these situations and ignored everything. But it was obvious he didn't agree with Leo's stand on the topic either.

"What was that? Does Leo have a crush on reader too or something?" Casey asked making Mikey overthink some very traumatizing scenarios. Raph threw a look at the older man who regretted opening his mouth.

"Nice going Case'" The red turtle mumbled audible enough for everyone in the living room to hear.

"I'm just saying, jeez. Besides, real talk, don't worry 'bout it Mike. I'm sure she likes you too. Should've seen her worried after you guys went to Brazil and we were stuck in holding." That made the young turtle optimistic, but it was shut down by his brain saying that she was probably just worried about them as a whole. He wouldn't blame her, they had been exposed to the police at the time.

"I don't know. Sometimes,.. I think I take it too far. Like Leo's right, I don't know boundaries like he does."

"Did he say that to ya'?" Raph asked shocked that golden boy would be mean to the youngest of the ninja. Thankfully Mikey shook his head but it still left the question. "So why do you think that?"

The orange clad mutant just shrugged and walked into his room and started drawing in the giant sketchbook Splinter had snagged for him during Christmas a couple years ago. After ten minutes of sketching, a knock on his door was heard.

"Come in!" The door opened to reveal Casey. He walked in while closing the door and sat down next to Mikey.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, totally! Why'd ya ask?" Casey gave a look. Not a normal one. Not one that showed simple emotion. One that showed a sign of knowing. Or that let Mikey know, 'Don't lie to me.'

"Real smooth earlier Romeo." Mikey sighed while closing his sketchbook while looking away embarrassed. Of all people to razz on him on wooing someone. Casey was definitely the one he'd least expect.

"Do you think Leo's right?" Mikey turned his head to look at Casey again. A raised eyebrow was what he got. "About,... you know,... accepting," he gestured to his body. "All this?" Casey shrugged and looked down.

"I wouldn't know. At least not like that." This time it was Mikey's turn to look confused. The older male sighed and continued, "When I was in school, someone used to make fun of me because of my accent. My family is Mexican. So my English used to come out really iffy."

"Does April know?" The turtle asked. He knew stuff like this happened. One of the things about topside he didn't like. Casey shook his head.

"She only knows that I faced backlash due to my situation. I told her when I asked her to be my girlfriend. Felt like she needed to know. Or maybe I needed her to know. About both things." There was a pause to see if Mikey understood what he was saying. It looked like he did, because the orange-clad turtle smiled mildly but he continued to cement the idea. "Want my advice? I say do what makes you happy. Not Leo. Not some dumb unwritten rule about relationships. It's your life. Something I'll talk yo Leo for ya'."

Mikey smiled and swooped Casey up into a hug. Now standing up, Casey realized how big the youngest mutant was. He smiled and hugged back patting his shell. Something his dad used to do before.

He watched Mikey walk out of his room and head to where reader was. He saw from the open door, Mikey talking to reader. With what seemed like a nervous smile. Then it turned solemn. Then reader jumped onto Mikey and kissed his cheek. Mikey then hugged back and lightly spun them around.

Casey caught sight of Leo walking out of the dojo and basically ran over to him. Raph, who was chatting with Donnie on the couches, watched the small man run to the eldest brother and practically tug him to Splinter's meditation room.

Whatever was discussed in that room, made Leo not say anything about reader or Mikey's relationship. After a while, he even became more and more happy for them. Reader specifically, guess that older brother energy never truly does go away.

[girl-loves-nerds]

Thoughts about Bay!Donnie

I know it seems like this blog is completely dedicated to Rise!Donnie, but NO, it's not, I love Donnies of absolutely all verses, I just don't know them as well as Rise yet. But I've watched the movies well, so yeah, Bay!Donnie. How does anyone have the right to be so wonderful? I mean, he's the most beautiful creature on earth and that's a fact. He fascinates me with his every action, being both sweet and smooth and cool as ice. It seems that he has problems, but no, he has everything under control, he will deal with it at the last second, because this is Donatello, he is the best. I can't take my eyes off him, you can literally take apart moments with him for a second and feel adoration for this smart turtle on each one. The way he licks his lips, his little sounds when he spins on a chair playing ping pong, how he seeks approval from Raphael in a scene with a snowy mountain, how he always recognizes Leonardo's leadership and almost never contradicts him. God, do you remember how cool he was when he jumped off the plane? Literally, "bye, bros, I'm off," while they weren't even looking at him while putting on their parachutes. And what is he doing with bo staff? God, the way he fights is a separate art form. Am I the only one who thinks that in almost every scene where he fights, something like slow motion turns on? Or is it a cliched slowdown when you see your crush? That might explain why everything is pink in my eyes. Like, do you remember Splinter's memories of the turtles' childhood? How did Donnie hit Mikey with a retractable staff? He continues to do this, coolly electrocuting Mikey when he's annoying. He's the kind of nerdy bully that I adore. In general, yes, I love Bay!Donnie with all my heart and maybe I'll start posting my pencil sketches with him here, because it's a little difficult for me to draw him in digital.

By the way, you can blame @blackmoonowl for my bubble. This is a wonderful person, write to them about it, because I'm shy.