#personified celestial beings

[theinvitedrider]

[joycrispy]

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

[suzannahnatters]

Last night I remembered another of my favourite Tolkien wifeguy facts.

So in Western mythology we've often personified the Sun as masculine and the Moon as feminine. Off the top of my head: The Sun is associated with purity, reason, scholarship, illumination, constancy, dragons, gold, and masculinity. On the other hand, the Moon is associated with darkness, silver, impurity, flux, change, uncertainty, fickleness, and femininity.

You can see all this imagery being adopted, eg, in the Mozart opera THE MAGIC FLUTE, in which a benevolent scholar wizard (with solar imagery). straight up kidnaps the daughter of the evil, passionate Queen of the Night so that she can be properly educated in Enlightenment rationalism, purged of all those icky feminine night/lunar influences, and turned into a good submissive little wife for the scholar's young disciple. Guys the music slaps but the story is SO gross and misogynistic.

Anyway, what does this have to do with Tolkien? I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

In Middle-Earth, Tolkien does a GENDERSWAPPED Sun and Moon. The Sun is She, the Moon is He. And, like, it's not that he just thought "oh how can I make this mythology Different" - he really thought this through. In THE SILMARILLION, Tolkien tells us that the Sun and Moon are two vessels made from the last flower of Telperion and the last fruit of Laurelin, the Two Trees which once gave light to Valinor. Two Maiar were chosen to pilot these vessels. The pilot of the moon is Tilion, a hunter of Orome, and the pilot of the sun is Arien: "Arien the maiden was mightier than he", a spirit of fire whom I strongly suspect to be an unfallen Balrog.

Now, just as in our world, the Moon in Middle Earth has a reputation for waywardness and unreliability. Because, get this, apparently Tilion falls in love with Arien: "But Tilion was wayward and uncertain in speed, and held not to his appointed path; and he sought to come near to Arien, being drawn by her splendour, though the flame of Arien scorched him, and the island of the Moon was darkened."

And I just. Here's Tolkien, standing up in the face of centuries of unveiled misogynistic symbolism and saying, "oh, we've got two celestial entities, one of which is powerful and bold and glorious, and the other famous for being kind of lame in comparison? SOUNDS TO ME LIKE A SWAGLESS LOVER BOY ABANDONING HIS DUTIES TO WORSHIP HIS GODDESS. I MEAN OBVIOUSLY. WHAT ELSE COULD THE EXPLANATION BE"

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece IV: Revolution

AO3 Part I Part III

“The difference between treason and patriotism is only a matter of dates.��� ― Alexandre Dumas

When it comes to the idea of freedom in One Piece, there are two related yet separate tracts the manga takes. Both are worth looking into, and both have parallels within the broader Romantic movement. The first of these is the idea of personal freedom as exemplified by pirates. The other is the pursuit of systematic freedom by Dragon and the Revolutionary Army. Robin explains the difference between the two in the post-Enies Lobby arc. By raising the flag, pirates label themselves criminals as they go out to sea, but unless they’re the Straw Hats they don’t usually go around picking fights with the World Government. The goal of the Revolutionary Army, on the other hand, is to overthrow the Celestial Dragons, which would in essence end the World Government as it currently exists. 

I’ve seen criticisms thrown at the series that One Piece doesn’t go far enough in its revolutionary politics in that it’s not explicitly anti-monarchy. There are good kings and bad, and whether or not an island is a good place to live or not seems based more on the actions of individual people than the system overall. There are even strange cases like Iceburg who as mayor is in an elected position, but who also holds ridiculous power over the entire island’s economy after turning its biggest industry into a monopoly under his control. In the real world that would be a horrific amount of power for one person to hold, but because Iceburg himself is a good man, it doesn’t matter. 

While this train of thought is worth exploring, I think that many of these arguments miss the forest for the trees. One Piece is not a story told from the Revolutionary’s point of view. It’s a pirate manga that elevates any individual brave enough to dream. It’s through this lens that paragons of virtue like Iceburg are allowed to exist without being hashtag problematic. The Revolutionaries themselves sidestep much of the messiness that tends to follow real-world uprisings by having them portrayed as principled and virtuous to a fault. In chapter 1058 Dragon promises harsh disciplinary action against Sabo if it’s found that he killed King Cobra, when as an allied nation of the World Government, the king of Alabasta should technically be their enemy. 

This lionizing of individuals and specific institutions goes back to Mirriam-Webster’s 4a definition of romanticism, and as a children’s manga whose primary themes aren’t centered around systemic revolution, this simplicity is perfectly fine, although I personally think it would be more interesting if the Revolutionary Army was portrayed as more morally gray within the series. Despite this, there are also deliberate links between the Revolutionary Army and the historical Romantic movement. 

It starts at the very foundation of their concept and character design. Many of the highest ranking Revolutionary commanders have a European steampunk look to them, while Mariejois seems based on the Palace of Versailles. Oda would not have paired a shirtless man in a black feathered coat with a cravat had he not wanted to tap in at least a little into the design language of European historical fashion, and by extension, the French Revolution. This is best seen in the design of Belo Betty, who seems to be explicitly based on Eugune Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People, a French Romantic painting depicting a personified Liberty leading Frenchmen from all walks of life as they strive to overthrow the despotic King Charles X in the July Revolution of 1830.

The term French Revolution is itself wonderfully imprecise, as France has endured several revolutions, uprisings, and revolts. One does not go through two empires and four republics without a history of civil unrest, and to this day one of France’s favorite pastimes is protesting against the government about things they don't like. But for many scholars, the first of these Revolutions in 1789 was one of the major sparks of the Romantic movement, drawing sympathy from and giving inspiration to writers and poets throughout Europe. The Revolution itself was brought on by many factors, including writings of late Enlightenment/early Romantic writer Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose work The Social Contract pushed for for a free populous living under elected governments.

It seemed that all of Europe would follow suit. Portugal, Spain, Belgium, Switzerland, Poland, the German Confederation, and Northern Italy all saw liberal uprisings of some sort during the early 1800s. Some were successful, others weren’t, but all were instrumental in destabilizing the political landscape that had existed for centuries. This followed a process that had already started globally, as the United States, Haiti, and much of Latin America had already become independent of their colonial masters. There’s a push and pull that’s often seen between art and history, with one influencing the other in an eternal tug of war. Romantic artists painted the pursuit of freedom in a positive light, which inspired frustrated men and women to take up arms against governments they felt did not adequately represent them. In turn, these revolutionaries inspired the Romantics to write and paint about the heroic deeds they saw all around them. One of the most famous Romantics of all, Lord Byron, even died in 1824 after joining the Greek war for independence. Although Byron himself had no strong political ideology and thought all governments as equally bad, the mere act of revolution inspired his romantic spirit to take up arms and fight. 

While there is no real-world equivalent to the World Government of One Piece, the greatest atrocities committed within the manga have their basis in real life, including many of the cartoonishly evil acts of the Celestial Dragons. The Atlantic slave trade, genocide of indigenous peoples under colonial rule, and the crushing poverty of the underclasses were all everyday realities, and these were all things people fought against during this time of world-wide revolution.

Again, some of these movements were more effective than others, and not all of them required violence to achieve their goals. 1807 marked the end of the slave trade in England while in 1838 slaves were freed in British colonies across the world, something once thought unthinkable. In 1861 the tsar emancipated some 23 million Russian serfs, while the Romantic era in the United States ended with the American Civil war and its bloody quest to end chattel slavery in the States.

In a twist of irony, the very same political instability brought on by decades of war ensured that the Romantic movement in France developed later than it did elsewhere. By that time, the Reign of Terror and Napoleon’s wars split Romantics abroad, and several quietly distanced themselves from France and its Revolutions. It was in this post-Revolutionary world that Victor Hugo looked at the smoking wreckage left all around him and began writing Les Miserables. In the preface of this book, he writes, 

“So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the midst of civilization, artificially creates a hell on earth…so long as the three problems of the century - the degradation of man by the exploitation of his labour, the ruin of women by starvation and the atrophy of childhood by physical and spiritual night are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible…so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, there should be a need for books such as this.”  

The three problems Hugo described exist now as they did then, and One Piece is in many ways a story of ordinary people with extraordinary dreams rising up above this artificially created hell to make a better world for themselves, and the people they care for. 

Other Romantics, disillusioned by a world that did not change as they would have liked, turned their search inward. For these, systematic change wasn’t the goal; personal freedom was. And it’s this inward, more spiritual journey that exemplifies the ideal pirate within the context of One Piece, as best seen by our main protagonist, Monkey D Luffy. 

[thefandomsfervent]

JayVik x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 21) - Phthalo Emerald (NSFW)

As of last chapter this is a jayvik x reader fic now. It is going to be a JayVik fic. Ft. Viktor being a quiet lover boy and JayVik smut. haven't written MLM +18 before so careful and I'm sorry in advance lol. it'll be marked by a breaker MDNI

Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom.

As much as daily chapters were fun to do, not feasible with my current work schedule. It may move to 2-4 days between releases now. stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3 Sorry it took so long for this update! I was in a wedding that I had to travel for and also holiday burnout. But I'm back with a vengeance.

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It had been a good morning for Viktor, he had awoken rested. Warm. Wrapped in Jayce's arms. This became a more familiar feeling. What was once ephemeral memories of rarely shared naps had turned into cuddling in bed together, warm broad hands rubbing into his legs and back. Jayce cologne settled into his pillows weeks ago. Cold mornings alone now were warm and slow starts to the day. Fleeting kisses and soft touches, drapes of cloth and linen. This morning was like all the others, and there was nothing that either of them would change about it. Aside from you. 

Time had continued to pass as it always did, and their patience began to wane. Admittedly it was Viktor’s own that seemed to dwindle. Jayce seemed content with just having him for now. That didn’t stop Jayce from joining in on the teasing. Now he had both of you in this lab. His golden darling, and you. Who was not his just yet. But he could want you to be. And for now that was enough. Because he saw how you were watching him and Jayce. He saw your lingering glances. Your weighted gaze on where their hands held each other. Something that lit a fire in himself and in Jayce. It resulted in some... testing this morning.  Gauging your reaction to their actions and eyes.  Seeing how beautifully red you could get just from their gentle teasing. It made some primitive part of him imagine what more hands on approaches could do to you. Discussions that he and Jayce indulged in when the wine gifted from Mel would find itself in their glasses. 

That would come later, much later if it needed to. Today all they had were words and time. That shyness that swept across your face when you heard him call Jayce, Zlato. A pink gone crimson when you heard your own endearment. If you had asked why Viktor would have gladly answered. Even if he preferred to keep such close sentiments to himself, he knew your love for imagery. He knew that if he told you why he had picked those words that you would have been putty in his palm. Zlato and Broučku each had their own meanings that he had chosen to share and that he chose to keep private. 

Zlato meant darling, but it also directly translated to gold. Jayce Talis was golden to him. His tan, his energy. Where you drew him as the sun personified, Viktor thought of him as starlight. As a continuous pulsing of energy that ebbed and flowed, lighting the night sky on Viktor’s late nights. Something to look for, to be excited to see. To watch glow and twinkle. That smile so bright as if he was lit from within. Stars he didn't always get to see back in Zaun. The smoke from Zaun and light pollution from Piltover sometimes blocked out those celestial lights. But Jayce was like that to him. Moving and changing, part of history in a way that not everyone quite understood. A gold dusting across space and time. Like gold, he was soft and malleable. Like gold, he was still strong and desired. Like gold, he shone in the sun. Like gold, he deserved to be taken care of. Like gold, Viktor wanted to wear him on his skin. 

And you? There was brouček, which was cuter. Little beetle. But broučku fit you better, he thought. When he imagined you, your always working hands, there was a buzzing behind his neck. Deep and thrumming in his ears. You had wormed your way into his lab. His life. His heart. Had burrowed under his skin. An iridescent sheen in his mind when he thought of you. Something that had truly hit him that morning after you had mixed your paints in the lab. As a scientist he understood your explanation and preference for correct terminology. But your laugh warmed his chest and soothed the mental aches being in the lab brought him. He couldn't help himself. Especially after your note where you kept the silly name, had crossed out your own words just to call back to his misnomer. 

You had become embedded in him without him realizing. Despite there being the closeness that he and Jayce had shared he was certain that you were a part of him. A kind of stability that your presence had offered that he took comfort in. Regardless of if you became entwined in the romance he and Jayce shared, he knew that you would be a sweet constant. 

Viktor sees your mind processing the nicknames, sees how your cheeks are impossibly ruddy, sees the way you fidget with your hands. You had laughed and relaxed. Still, whatever limits you had it seemed that they were about to hit them, so he taps Jayce’s hand and gestures to their table. A silent “Let us work now.” When Jayce turns around he is barely hiding all the affection Viktor knows he holds. It pours from that smile, gleaming in those happy hazel eyes. And it fills Viktor’s chest with his own. He can hear the tense breath you let loose when they both face their table. He can only imagine how your shoulders must relax without their focus on you. Can not help the last look he gives you. His eyes are catching yours. Your own watering from laughter. Viktor almost speaks. But you smile at him and any words catch in his throat. So he offers his own and gets back to work. The soothing sounds of all three of you working plays in the background. 

As the day continues like normal there is a burning that had settled in him. There was a tenderness in today’s teasing, yes. But something in Viktor had been awoken by all that blushing of yours. It means that when you call it an early night he only waits until the door shuts to tug on Jayce’s tie. His golden partner was looking over his shoulder at calculations. Jayce says nothing at the action, simply waits. Having been victim to Viktor’s teasing in almost all its forms he knew better than to react too quickly now. 

“Perhaps we should call it a night too.” is all Jayce needs to hear to lean into Viktor’s back. Eyes closing when he feels Viktor rise to stand. There’s no straightening of notes before they leave. Just a silent walk back to their rooms. Lately they had spent most nights in Viktor’s room, the mattress more comfortable on his leg. Tonight they stop at Jayce’s door. 

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Jayce sat on the bed patiently,  his hand loosely fidgeting with the sheets as Viktor undresses. Jayce himself had already made it down to just his boxers, straining in the fabric just watching. An inaudible hitch in his throat when he sees how Viktor had loosened his tie. Two moles on the right side of his neck unveiling as the collar dipped open. Jayce can feel his own gaze travel down to those beautifully long fingers deftly working at buttons. Watching with a growing hunger. They had been so gentle and teasing this whole time they'd been together.  More so before their talk to make it more. But tonight was different. And so he didn't want to forget a moment. He would catalogue it deep within his brain. Would make sure to remember every little thing he did right. Remember every movement Viktor made. A clearing throat pulls his gaze up. 

Viktor’s small smug smile greeting him. Flushed cheeks. It's all he can do to not pull him down onto that bed right away. To kiss up and down every inch of the man before him. Instead, Jayce opens his arms wide. Asking. Pleading with his eyes, leaning forward without thinking. He tries to ignore the thumping of his heart. Jayce Talis was a lover. He was a man that had been with men and women, needed affection and to give it. Craved it. And with his partner here in his room that one simple fact about himself did not change. Only became exemplified. As soon as Viktor stepped between Jayce’s legs he could feel those tan arms wrap around his back. Feel them slide under the loose button up. Thick fingers splayed along his lower spine. He could feel Jayce’s lips trailing soft kisses, loving and slow up and down his stomach. The press of Jayce’s nose into his abdomen. Viktor wrapped his own arms around Jayce. He trailed his hands until they met with the nape of Jayce's neck. And how could he not chuckle at the sigh he heard in response? At the puff of air he felt in his skin as Jayce leaned into his touch and looked up through loving hazel eyes?

Jayce tries to stay focused, tries to not let the night become a blur of bodies and sensations. Leans into every kiss, committed to every action that has a taste and sound. Everytime his hands wander too low Viktor’s hands pull them away and up. When Viktor himself is only in his boxers he’s sitting in Jayce’s lap. Hands holding Jayce’s above his head, whispering about patience and behavior. Words that he wishes he could focus on. All he knows is that Viktor tastes like coffee today. Like home. Cold hands on his hot skin. Hips moving deep and slow, brushing against each other. 

Viktor isn’t sure how long he’s kept Jayce at this point before he settles further down the bed. Trailing fingers over where Jayce has made a mess in his underwear. Reveling in the gasps Jayce can’t hide. In the way he twitches beneath the wet fabric. It’s deliciously pathetic. Makes him hungry. Lightheaded. When he fully presses his palm down Jayce curses, trying to stay still. A task quickly abandoned as Viktor continues to tease, until he’s panting and whining. 

“Do you need more or could you finish like this?” Viktor’s voice is soft and admiring. A tone that is heavy with demand yet still asking. Jayce only nods, eyes barely open enough to see what Viktor’s doing. Crawling up for messy kisses and that hand never stops. “Vik I can’t, I’ll-” It takes an ear nip and a few well timed praises. A groan that rumbles deep in his chest, loud enough that Viktor can feel it in his own as a wet flood pulses through the fabric of Jayce’s boxers. He keeps moving, focusing on getting every last bit until he hears a whine. 

"Can't wait anymore, let me touch you. Please. Let me make you feel good. " His voice is hoarse. Emotion that could be lust or love. It’s both but that didn't matter as his lips met skin and hands fumbled with the waistband of his underwear. "Wanna taste you. Can I?" Viktor just looked at him. A ring of amber barely visible around the blown pupils. Finally Jayce could feel that sense of pride. Drinking in every second of those mole and freckle covered shoulders heaving up and down.  Loving every minute that he could be touching his partner. "Please V."

Viktor wants to deny him but impatient stuttering hips betray his resolve.  He lifts them and nods, not trusting the voice rising in his throat to stay steady. Not when Jayce looks at him like that. Pouty kiss bitten lips parted to show that endearing tooth gap. He had no time to take in the cool air he’s suddenly exposed to. Jayce’s hands are already on him, pumping his length. All their heavy petting and grinding meant that it didn't take much to get him fully hard. So Jayce wastes no time in pushing him down, leaning forward on his knees. The pillows by his feet getting kicked off the bed as he settles and puts his mouth on Viktor. The hot muscle moving to make room and properly cradle the underside on each slow pass. Viktor could hide his first groan, but not the second. 

Seeing Jayce’s brows furrowed together in concentration, those short thick lashes resting on the swell of Jayce’s cheeks. Especially not when Jayce hums as if he's content to be here of all places. Viktor can feel the back of his partners throat, kissing the head as Jayce tries to swallow around him.  It's too much, too far and he wants to pull away. But Jayce is lifting Viktor’s hips. Pressing himself impossibly close, nose brushing against that patch of hair, taking in shaky breaths. His orgasm is fast. Too fast. Viktor can't warn him, all he can do is let his head lean back as he spasms. He can feel his leg twitch, a heel dogging into Jayce’s back, he can feel himself twitching as he cums. The wet heat of Jayce’s mouth staying there the whole time, slowing down his movements to draw it out as long as possible. When he finally pulls off Viktor is barely there. That bliss of another person warming his whole body. He can barely register the kisses on his inner thigh, just when they stop and he feels Jayce lay his head on a bony hip. Jayce hums when he feels Viktor's hands in his hair. A few strands stuck to his forehead, just getting his breathing together and they both relax. 

“Again?” Viktor can feel Jayce pushing into his hand, head tilting to look up at him. Face so open and vulnerable, and absolutely drunk on the feeling of being there with each other. 

“Incorrigible.” It doesn’t stop him from tightening the grip of his fingers in those dark brown locks. 

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--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 20-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[writers-potion]

It is a well-known fact that there are seven levels in Hell. Similarly, apocalyptic accounts of heaven range from one heaven to ten, but most agree on seven.

As fantasy writers, this is great news. Let's dive.

First Heaven

The physical world. It is ruled by Gabriel, and is home to all the angels connected with the natural phenomena of the universe.

In ancient Mesopotamian religion, the first dome of heaven was made of jasper and was the home of the stars.

Second Heaven

Ruled by Raphael.

It is the home of sinner who are waiting for Judgement Day.

Some of the fallen angels are held her as well. Kinda like the field of asphodel, which make this one sound more like pre-hell, but whatever.

Mesopotamians believed the middle domes (2nd-6th) were made of saggilmut stone and home of lgigi, mythological beings living in heaven.

Third Heaven

Ruled by Baradiel. The southern half of this heaven contains the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life. 300 angels of light stands sentry.

The Northern half of the third heaven contains hell. Not surprisingly, some fallen angels are held here.

Like the seven layers of Hell, the seven domes of Heaven seem to be a more extended version of typical one-story Heaven and therefore houses more creatures beyond angels.

Fourth Heaven

Ruled by Michael. It contains the Holy Temple and the Altar of God.

Mesopotamians equated the seven domes of Heaven surrounding the flat earth with celestial bodies.

The first dome would be Mercury, the second Venus, the third Mars, and so on.

Ordinary mortals wouldn't go go heaven because the heavens were the abode of gods alone.

Fifth Heaven

Ruled by Zadkiel. In ancient Mesopotamia, each visible celestial body was equated with a god.

The planet Venus was believed to be Inanna, the goddess of love, sex an war (would they ever stop being a trio?).

The sun was her brother Utu, the god of justice and the moon was their father Nanna.

Sixth Heaven

Ruled by Zebul at night and Sabath by day. All celestial records are kept here, and choirs of angels endlessly study them.

After a person (a mere mortal) dies, his/her soul would go to Kur which is a dark shadowy underworld located deep below the surface of the earth. Seems like the Mesopotamian gods were hellbent on getting some personal space in the sky …

Seventh Heaven

Archangel Cassiel rules this realm.

The Seraphim, Cherumbim and Thrones live here.

In ancient Mesopotamia (where the seven-heaven theory originated), the last and highest dome of the heavens was made of luludanitu stone and was personified as An, the god of he sky.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 16

RotTMNT x Reader

@2aceofspades had such incredible vision for this week's chapter art! I'm so glad to have been party!

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

Six months.

This had gone on for half a year.

Donnie held his phone up as a pretense. There were things he could look at. He even had feeds he wanted to scroll through, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. In the last 179 days, this was the closest he had been to you. From where he was currently laid out on the couch, he had an arm craned behind his head so he could optimally hear your laughter bubble up below him.

He missed that.

He missed everything.

Waiting was necessary. 

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Time came with perspective and that had been at the forefront.

Mikey needed time.

As a dutiful brother, Donnie showed up like the rest of them. There had been stages. Mikey had gone through multiple routes of expression that bordered on mania to deal with his heartbreak. Donnie, being the most prone to such flights, accepted the phases best. If Mikey said he had to keep painting until he fully captured the illusive sensation in his chest then who was he to tell him to stop to eat?

The others weren’t as understanding, but they had Mikey’s wellbeing in mind.

The care was good natured in that sense, but that hadn’t meant Mikey didn’t occasionally snap. The youngest amongst them also happened to be the most powerful, both in a physical, mystical, and emotional sense, so, in the end, he got his way. If any one of them pressed too hard for Mikey to deviate from how he wanted to process his grief, then they risked life and limb. In all, it had taken three months for Mikey to work out all he needed. It had concluded by the youngest walking into the living room one day and announcing that he was ready for a new hobby. It was Mikey’s way of saying he had exhausted himself on what had come before and was ready to return to his sense of normality in his constant pursuit against boredom. 

Donnie had kept his mouth shut as he wondered if that meant you would join him.

He buried the thought immediately. 

He was supposed to be happy that the youngest had recovered.

He meant to congratulate Mikey with the rest of them even if Mikey didn’t understand what ranks he was joining or what he was being honored for. 

Mikey lived.

Mike came out the other side of heartbreak.

Donnie felt like the one full of shrapnel.

From art to reading to eating to talking, Mikey had done what was necessary to move on.

Where did Donnie start?

He had no basis.

When he examined his connection to you, he found the first flames of attraction at best. You two had only had a few paltry conversations about interests. The only notable facet was that once the two of you started talking, the rest of the world seemingly disappeared. You would enter a vacuum sealed bubble and he liked how he had all your attention. It reminded him of the contact high he got when in the throes of a project. It was a chase he pursued when it came to construction. It percolated in certain video games. It even appeared amongst science texts that explained or laid the foundation for that which others found just as mysterious.

What did he know about you?

He knew he liked you.

He knew little else. 

You had a crane game plushie, but did you collect stuffed animals?

You had movie facts, but did you enjoy watching films?

You had eaten a litany of snacks, but there seemed no commonality for a favorite.

How was he supposed to move on when he knew so little?

How was he supposed to start when everything had ended before it began?

This was his usual tipping point. He only needed the faintest interest in something to kick off a journey to becoming an expert. That first ember was a flame to be fanned and he was always in need of fire. He couldn’t even say he was flighty. When he committed to something, it was with his entire being. He found science at the age of seven and never looked back. Sure, he had projects that he had shelved, but that was because they themselves had run out their use, not their larger purpose.

You were a supernova.

A stunning and luminous explosion. 

No, that was intrigue talking. 

He was fantasizing without coming up with a scenario to run through. 

What he had done was research. Love came in stages and he didn’t need articles to tell him that. He could break down the chemicals released in regards to fondness and spell them forwards and backwards. He knew all the internal mechanics. Those who believed absence made the heart grow fonder were too tied up in theatrics to see the point. 

Being apart was about work.

You either appreciated what you missed about the person or you put in the additional effort necessary to maintain a relationship of distance. It was hard enough to navigate sharing yourself with another when they were right there. When you were separated, all of that was doubled with doubt and unknowns. Honesty was the key and communication was a house of worship. He detested the latter, but knew its barb all too well.

Yet again, none of this related to you.

He had no parts of you to miss because who he had come to know was an acquaintance at best. He had nothing to maintain because you’d never gotten to a point where that was necessary. You’d left him in the kitchen that night with an agreement to see each other again. It wasn’t even a promise. He didn’t even have your contact info. He had resorted to stealing your number from Mikey and putting it in his phone, but he couldn’t actually message you.

That would reveal too much.

He had his duty as a brother.

It didn’t matter that Mikey had actually given him the number without prompting.

It didn’t matter that the younger had asked him once or twice if he knew how you were.

Four times to be precise and it wasn’t because he date stamped any mention of your name in his recordings.

That would be absurd.

Borderline creepy.

He just had so little to go off of.

He needed knowledge.

Mikey needed time to process.

Donnie should have moved on from the crush.

After that three month marker had been announced, Donnie watched the youngest avoid his phone. Not in a sense that he stopped using it, but instead he was painfully aware of its existence. Every time Mikey got a message ping or his phone gave the slightest vibration, he would startle as if he had never seen such technology before. He would then immediately go taut in a way that said all he was fighting feral instinct to check the notification. The odd dichotomy escalated until Mikey bought an alarm clock if only to avoid setting similar ones on his phone. Donnie made it exactly one week before he had enough and took the device away from the youngest. He then threw it back in Mikey’s face and told him to call you.

In a bout of yelling, their father had been forced to step in as he had quite a bit in the passing months.

Donnie needed to make a reminder to bulk up his usual father’s day gifts this year. Splinter had been doing his best to be present. On his own accord, he had fumbled his way through online research and spoke of how the type of love didn’t matter. What was important was happiness and with that he asked if you made Mikey happy. Mikey had hugged their dad long past the point where he should have let go. Their father had held out with minor complaints that were mostly for show.

Donnie was left standing on the other side of the room.

He was the only brother to bear witness. 

He instigated the event. 

Why?

Did you make Donnie happy?

He hadn’t seen you in months. 

By all accounts, you caused him far more misery than joy if he were to weigh the scales. 

He hated the state of his acquaintanceship with you.

He wanted more.

He sulked.

Donnie sulked as you and Mikey started talking once again. 

He sulked as you agreed to meet Mikey for coffee. 

He sulked as you tested the waters of your new friendship. 

He sulked as you realized things were still okay. 

He sulked as you both remembered how you liked to hang out and went back to doing it regularly. 

He hadn’t seen you, but he saw Mikey leave.

He avoided the youngest whenever he returned.

Mikey could take his time dipping his toe into the body of water that Donnie so greedily wished to dive in.

Donnie wasn’t proud of the thought.

He may have prematurely torn up some schematics because of them. 

Mikey could be so altruistic.

Donnie had none of those markers.

Donnie was selfish.

Donnie was possessive.

Donnie was.

He was alone.

He was by himself in heartache and longing and there was nothing he could do about it.

Even work lost its luster. He moved like a hollow shell just to keep busy. Nothing quieted his mind, so he didn’t bother. He moved his hands for the sake of it and creations came at an incredible pace. He got praise for his speed and utility. He wasn’t over embellishing as he usually did. The machines were simple and to the point. The others made remark after positive remark, but Donnie saw the edge. They noticed immediately how he hadn’t lavished in the praise. They put two and two together in relation to what had been made.

They worried.

They knew.

Bickering had revealed his feelings, but there had enough talk.

Long nights with Leo had Donnie coming the closest he ever had to admitting they were twins. Sessions with Raph where little was said until a lot was unloaded. Joining April in reconnaissance even after he blew her cover because he couldn’t stop his mouth from rounding on his misery. Even Mikey, an unintentional catalyst for his current dilemma, had trapped him under the talk of food science and there had been light mentions of what could be done.

They all had one common response: if his feelings persisted then there was a reason.

If there was a reason then it needed to be explored.

Donnie knew that much. That was the basis for all science. The only problem was that he couldn’t and that came with its own cascade. One brother agreed he should stay away, one brother fell neutral, his sister said it was okay as long as he was honest, and the last brother told him to go for it. Paralyzed by the split decision, Donnie had opted to do nothing.

He suffered for it, but at least he owned it.

Until he saw you again.

The first time had been innocuous.

It was around the four month mark and you had come down the lair to drop off some leftovers in their fridge. There had been mention of a secondary location and you hadn’t wanted to let the food go bad. The lair had been close so you both popped in for only a moment. Donnie had been across the room, discussing something with Leo when you walked by. You hadn’t seen him. Mikey yammered on by your side, taking your attention, but Donnie had stopped to look.

He only realized how long when Leo pressed him with an annoying whistle. Donnie really needed to enact vengeance on the bird call situation. Leo had always done it to personally piss him off. Leo’s flimsy excuse of having learned them for signaling was an enormous load of crap. Donnie was translating exactly this when you passed through on the way out and made eye contact.

He watched it in slow motion.

The dip of your lashes.

The small smile that appeared on your face.

The way your lids translated how you felt about him.

How you still felt about him. 

The way Mikey screamed that he’d be back later and tugged you away.

Leo hadn’t even made fun of him the second time. He’d pulled a ‘that’s rough’ and Donnie yanked Leo’s mask down to choke him. Leo had lived because Donnie hadn’t had the time to set up proper manslaughter. Donnie survived on scraps alone.

For two months, he lived on fleeting glances as you passed him by. Both of you were somehow always busy and you were never in the same room long enough to spare more than a few words. Eventually, it was six months from the heartbreak date and Donnie wandered in on you and Mikey hanging out in the living room like it was nothing.

He received no notice, but he hadn’t expected any. In fact, he hadn’t meant to leave his lab as he was deep in the construction of a shuttle, but he had gotten notice that a necessary part was just delivered. Goggles down and only oil free because he’d shucked his coveralls, there you were, sharing the same bean bag with Mikey as if it were a pillow. You were amongst a lively conversation about a mobile game that Donnie vaguely remembered Mikey had been going on and on about.

Donnie walked toward you before he could stop himself.

“Heyo!” Mikey chirped, hammering his thumbs into his device. “Y/N! Look! It’s Donnie!”

“Uh!” You squeaked out, similarly banging your screen. “J-just a sec!”

“Almost got him…” Mikey’s tongue flipped side to side.

“Ah!” You sunk back with relief and some fanfare played from both phones.

“Heck yeah!” Mikey held up a hand.

You high fived it.

Donnie had a wrench.

He wasn’t supposed to be here and he had a wrench in hand.

“Hi.” You didn’t seem to notice his folly as you looked up at him with an eager shine.

Nothing about the rocket was that pressing. “Mikey snared you as well it seems.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “You mean Leo?”

“Ugh!” Mikey grunted and moved something on his screen. “He’s playing in the worst way! He’s not even playing! He paid for a bunch of buffs so he could rush the first region and skipped all the dialog! No story!”

“Y-you have like twenty… seven…? levels on me…” You murmured.

“So?” Mikey squinted at a menu. “You’re playing. You’re trying. You called me to talk about the story last night. Then, you listened to me go on about pulling best boy in my first ten!”

“You were about to have me pull.” You giggled.

“See! That’s different! You care!” Mikey punctuated the last word with a nod.

“Do you play, Donnie?” You sent your gaze over.

You folded him into the conversation.

You cared.  

Maybe he would.

Maybe he would download the game right now.

Maybe he would hack it and make himself the same level as you.

Maybe he would make himself a higher one than Mikey so you’d come to him to play with instead.

“No.” Was what came out of his mouth.

“He gets too upset about the free-to-play thing because he had a bad experience once.” Mikey finally pulled his eyes from the screen and sent Donnie a lethal gaze.

“I almost leveled the city and destroyed you all in the process!” Donnie brought up his hands to complain.

Mikey shrugged. “Whatcya doing out here? Weren’t you building a rocket?”

“You bring up a complaint only to drop it!” Donnie hissed.

“Level the…?” You looked between them in horror. “Rocket…?”

“Those events are unrelated!” Donnie rushed.

“Yeah, he’s making a rocket. Didn’t I mention that?” Mikey tilted his head and returned to tapping on his phone.

“N-no…” You gaped.

“Mikey…” Donnie grouched.

“Huh? What? You still here?” Mikey couldn’t keep a creeping smile off his face. “Y/N, wanna keep going?”

“Um…! Well…!” You sat a little straighter with what Donnie read as a plea in your eyes.

Did you need a break?

Were you having trouble telling Mikey?

You should be able to do as much.

What was the point of your friendship otherwise?

Donnie was left again, unsure, and in stasis.

“I… guess… that’s fine…” Your eyes dropped, sad, to the floor.

A guilt cropped up that Donnie offset.

He couldn’t help you with something so simple.

Rocket.

He could keep working on his rocket.

Donnie moved to leave and saw you perk up in his periphery before you wilted again.

He wouldn’t be some easy out.

“Or did you wanna take a break?” Mikey wondered in a loud way that Donnie knew was for him.

“I was grabbing a package.” Donnie spoke both remembering why he’d come out here and to answer.

“Too bad.” Mikey hummed.

You sank down into the bean bag.

“Why…?” Donnie rounded close to the couch that was beside the two of you.

“You could use a break. I’m not sure, but it’s been what… 9 hours? I can tell from how shrimpy you are.” Mikey fiddled with his phone.

You rose up enough to study Donnie.

He avoided your gaze and bore holes into Mikey as he tried to figure out what his goal was. “My back is fine and it’s been 7 hours and 42 minutes.”

“Back making fried rice.” Mikey snickered.

“Yes, because now I obviously want to rest where I am ridiculed.” Donnie touched one hand to the couch’s arm and threw the other up in gesture. “Sarcasm!”

You were still watching.

“Back curved like a wok.” Mikey’s smile split his face.

Donnie rolled his eyes to leave.

“Y-you could-!” You spoke up.

Mikey stayed quiet save the tacking on his phone.

“Yes?” Donnie watched you openly struggle.

“L-laying down… for your b-back… I mean… It might… help?” You pleaded with him. “The sofa is… um...”

He would not be your scapegoat. “My back is fine.”

“Oh…” You sank beneath your third pitfall of the night.

His stomach was gutted.

He couldn’t take anymore of your guilt.

“I’ve got to get that package. Excuse me.” Donnie left.

Just as he exited he heard a soft curse from you followed by soothing words from Mikey.

It wasn’t for him, Donnie reminded himself.

Maneuvering to the chute that he had installed so dropped packages would be safely stored below ground, Donnie opened the hatch and pulled out an envelope. Holding it and the weight of the part inside, he sighed as he made the return trip. He would have to pass the damn sitting room again on the way and slowed to make the mental preparations.

If he didn’t look at you then he wouldn’t get hung up.

Deciding that was the best strategy, Donnie moved forward with purpose and his head high.

Your voice drifted across the brick.

“L-look at this one…”

“Oh, that’s cute. I have another from that artist! Let me-!”

Donnie just needed to walk by.

Unseen, undetected.

Maybe he should have opted for a sneakier approach.

Mikey was further reclined though his phone was still in his face. “Get your package?”

“Yes.” Donnie rounded the sofa with his guard up.

“D-Donnie?” You called out.

To say he hadn’t seen you would be a lie, but you were being swallowed up by the bean bag as of now.

Pretending not to hear you would be rude. 

“Yes…?” He tried to keep you in his periphery by looking just beside your head.

“We… Um… Well, we’re taking a b-break if you w-wanted to… I know you were b-busy, but…?” You held your phone close to your lips, hiding behind it.

Mikey smiled as he clearly scrolled.

Donnie stared.

There had been some sort of development that he had missed.

He wasn’t sure what.

You had wanted to stop playing, but you hadn’t used him.

Was that because he avoided you?

Why would you ask him to join now?

Mikey elbowed you.

Donnie watched on, feeling that creeping territory that said he shouldn’t be here.

You sank down in further misery.

You looked near tears.

Don’t wipe them.

They weren’t worrisome.

You were safe.

You obviously needed to process.

Mikey bumped you harder.

“I’m t-trying!” You complained.

Mikey had his phone up to show you something and frowned.

You blinked out of your concern. “O-oh… You weren’t trying to e-encourage me…?”

Mikey chuckled. “Where’s your head? I’m showing you the art I told you I was going to.” 

“It’s nice…” You mumbled. “Send it to me?”

Mikey nodded back into his spot. “I’m sticking to the fanart thing. Have fun failing to invite D to hang out.”

You fumbled your device.

Invite him?

He already said he wouldn’t play the game.

Had he not been clear?

Donnie shifted his weight to one hip to think.

You took a deep breath. “T-that’s n-notI…! I w-wanted… to m-make sure you… didn’t f-feel uncomfortable be-because you thought that m-maybe we were e-excluding you…?”

“Excluding me?” Donnie reared with further confusion. “We didn’t have plans.”

You looked like you wanted to disappear into your seat.  

“Okay.” Mikey sighed and let his phone fall onto his plastron. “I know you both too well. Here’s the deal.”

You made a nervous little noise.

Donnie felt the pull to flee again.

“I thought you should take a break. Y/N worried you thought you were intruding, which isn’t wrong. I know that you get all up in your head when… how do you say it? Something like, ‘your attendance isn’t expressly requested?’” Mikey gestured between the lot. “So here’s the invite: if you wanna hang out, we’re all gonna mess around on our phones. That’s like your fourth favorite parallel play. Join us! How’s that?” He turned his head with a rustle towards you.

You gave a nod that appeared to confirm your portion.

Donnie blinked once. “Huh.”

“D-don’t f-feel like y-you have t-to…” You rushed to add.

“Yeah, that too.” Mikey picked his phone back up.

Mikey moved on and you appeared to be the only one waiting for Donnie.

Donnie finally looked at you properly and you jolted.

You noticed he hadn’t been gazing directly and, after the initial shock wore off, your lids lowered with a beckoned question.

He was laying out on the couch and staring up at the ceiling before he realized it.

Pathetic.

It wasn’t even comfortable because of his battle shell.

He’d preferred to be sitting up.

The couch was too old.

“D-Donnie have you seen…?” You were on the floor, but you were almost right next to him.

Technically Mikey was closest, but you were the next.

He turned his head to look at a meme you showed him.

Had he seen it?

Yes.

He asked to see more anyway.

Mikey’s body buckled under a laugh and suddenly there was a flurry of messages being discussed. Donnie’s phone appeared as a safeguard. Conversation continued on about gossip this and breakthrough that. You kept him from being a third wheel. Nine total times you brought Donnie into the conversation. 

Donnie felt oddly settled. By now, Mikey would have forgotten about him. Donnie knew his brother. It wasn’t done out of cruelty, but because they’d known each other their whole lives. Mikey didn’t feel the need to include him. Donnie was often plugged in and half listening in gatherings anyway. 

Did you know that? 

He didn’t care. 

He ate up the attention and if Leo were here, he would have called bullshit on the many lies Donnie told just to keep your attention. Whether Mikey noticed or not, Donnie didn’t care. Mikey could be equally oblivious. On more than one occasion the youngest had feigned innocence on a topic if only to allow another person more room to talk. 

Altruistic.

Donnie felt like a liar in comparison.

He wanted you to include him.

He played dumb so you would keep supposedly helping him.

He was painfully selfish.

The conversation eventually drifted.

Each person was supposedly doing their own thing except Donnie who was staring at a feed he hadn’t touched. He should try, he thought. He had only prompted you through the entire verbal exchange. It was meant to be his turn. A conversation was between two or more parties. That meant he needed to instigate something. He only had to choose a topic.

Which?

Hadn’t he treaded all over the usual ones?

What else was there to say?

This spelled doom.

You had nothing in common.

What a farce.

“Oh… Oh!” Mikey piped up.

You turned lightly to give him your attention.

“Y/N, that night market you wanted to go to finally scheduled another date!” Mikey held out his phone.

“R-really?!” You sounded excited.

Good.

Donnie was happy for you. 

“Yeah, so it’s now on… Oh…” Mikey brought his device back, crestfallen.

“What’s w-wrong?” You moved to rotate your body as your head wasn’t enough.

“It’s the same nights as my Italia fair…” Mikey wilted. “I’m working.”

“O-oh…” You similarly sank.

Donnie needed to beat his passivity and he supposed this was an opportunity. “What sort of night market? There always seems to be one.”

“Y/N wanted to go to the dumpling one!”

“D-dumplings!”

You both tittered at speaking in unison.

It made Donnie feel sick. 

“You said another?” Donnie directed his question toward Mikey.

“Yeah, Y/N and I were gonna go to the last two, but there was… stuff… that came up!” Mikey swiped through his phone to move on.

The period of sadness Mikey went through and the subsequent distance that had been exacted between you both.

Donnie let his phone go to sleep.

That made sense.

He also understood if you weren’t ready to go out on your own in this case. He knew what a sensory nightmare the night market was and it was not an experience he imagined anyone survived alone. Lights, smoke, yelling, and lines, he avoided that sort of thing himself if he could help it. 

He turned his head enough to peek at you.

You had pulled up the night market page on your phone.

You stared sullenly at the date.

You were excited. 

You wanted to go. 

His lips parted, but he froze.

It wasn’t his place.

This was Mikey’s territory.

Mikey probably told you about the event.

Mikey probably knew the vendors.

“When is it?” Donnie spoke in spite of himself.

“Fourteenth and fifteenth.” Mikey bobbed his head to his own beat before he stalled out. “Wait.”

His little brother was like an emotional bloodhound.

Donnie’s eyes shot wide at his error.

He tried to bury it as he watched in horrified slow motion as Mikey spun around with a craning elbow to view him with starry eyes. “You!”

Jostled by the bean bag, you looked up, not comprehending what had transpired.

“Mikey…!” Donnie warned and sat up in preparation.

Mikey dropped right back down into his spot and started scrolling.

That was unusual. 

What was he going for?

With a cold sweat, Donnie remembered their shared family calendar.

His blood pressure plummeted as he switched to trying to get his own app up to revoke Mikey’s access.

“Ha! Perfect! You’re free!” Mikey announced, beating him to it.

Donnie winced against the calendar’s color coding.

“I don’t…?” You wondered.

“Well?” Mikey shot him a look and waggled his brow ridge.

“I was only curious.” Donnie got hold of his tone and forced out neutrality.

Mikey continued to study him.

He could play it cool.

Donnie switched back to the thread he hadn’t read.

He felt his little brother’s eye hover for a few moments longer before he dipped into the bean bag again. “Really? Again? Fine… Whatever!”

You made a little curious sound at having been left in the dark. 

“Nothing, I guess.” Mikey shrugged. “Seems like I’m the only one who knows how to ask questions tonight. I thought someone was going to ask if you two could go together.”

There was a whack and you squeaked.

Both men turned to find you plucking your phone from your face. “D-dropped i-it! S-sorry!”

“Silly.” Mikey hummed affection before shimmying into the bag once more.

“It was an a-accident…” You held your phone tighter to offset your shame.

You both bickered lightly while Donnie was stuck.

You could go together.

Mikey seemed fine with the proposition.

It was weird.

Wasn’t it?

How had Leo put it?

He’d said something about no matter how chill Mikey was, there’d always be an inherent weirdness to you and Donnie doing anything together.

You didn’t do that to family.

Raph had announced his faith.

If Mikey said something then he should be trusted.

Neither brother was wrong.

April had told him to be true to himself. 

Donnie wanted to know you.

He wanted to have his own inside jokes.

His own shared activities.

He wanted to be selfish.

Mikey had given his blessing. 

“You’re… grouchy tonight…” Your voice broke through even though your tone was a quiet one. 

“Am not!” Mikey huffed in return. 

A silence stretched between you and quieted Donnie’s mind. 

“Okay, fine!” Mikey relented. “I just want to keep playing the game and you’re both being ridiculous.” 

“T-that’s not f-fair…” You verbally pursued him. 

“It’s a little fair and you know exactly why.” Mikey had a knowing tone. 

Your mouth audibly clicked shut. 

Mikey hummed in victory.

“Just d-dont… a-assume for… him…” The last part was spoken in near silence. 

Donnie heard Mikey turn toward you. 

Something he couldn’t catch was exchanged and by the time he looked, you were returning Mikey’s gaze. 

“He’s here.” Mikey whispered. “Isn’t that proof enough?” 

“You asked…” You responded and tucked into the bean bag. 

For a moment Mikey gave an affectionate, but hopeless look at you. 

He then trended upward to share that look with Donnie. 

There was an obvious expectation there. 

Donnie had been meant to extrapolate something from the exchange. 

What was it?

He reviewed the facts thus far and tried his best to sweep away the errant thoughts. 

There had been murmurs of a secondary conversation. 

He heard it now and when he went to get the package. 

Mikey had said you failed to ask him to hang out, but that had been a joke. 

Hadn’t it?

Donnie searched Mikey. 

The younger only gave him a knowing smile before his gaze dropped obviously to where you were still hiding. 

Did that mean you wanted to spend time with him?

Donnie was speaking before he could stop himself. “I can’t say I enjoy events like this. I won’t know the chefs. I prefer to critique outdoor food prep as it’s never up to New York code. I won’t conjure a peppy demeanor. The sounds. The sights. I will surely be in a bad mood.” 

That sounded terrible. 

If he was trying to sell himself he was doing the opposite. 

Was he trying to talk you or himself out of going?

You and Mikey were painfully quiet. 

Mikey was right; he was too much in his own head. 

His eyes closed.

“I d-don’t mind any of that…”

Right.

It didn’t matter with who, you just wanted to go. 

He was moronic for letting his little brother convince him otherwise. 

You needed a body and barrier for the crowds. 

It didn’t make sense for you to go alone. 

Donnie didn’t want to be used and yet here he was offering himself up. 

He held off a sigh.

That was his own doing.

“I d-don’t… e-expect you to… be Mikey…” You were firm even in your stammer. 

His pupil trailed off, afraid to search for you.

“You’re… you.” 

Him. 

“As l-long as M-Mikey d-didn’t force you…? Um… I-if you really d-don’t mind going…? I… w-want to go…” Your legs slid out of his vision as you pulled them up close to your body out of fear.

You.

“With you…” You looked straight at him. “I want to go… with you.” 

There was a moment where Donnie could only hear his heart in his tympanum. 

“It’ll be fun.” Mikey interjected casually.

You nodded a little too furiously.

How did you do that?

Donnie thought his heart might escape the cae of his chest. “If you’re that determined and don’t mind my lack of enthusiasm then I suppose it’s settled.”

“D-don’t you want… d-dumplings?” You turned to him with a sort of offense. 

“A dough with a wide ranging definition?” Donnie shared a look he hoped translated some levity.

You took note of it and pouted.

He smiled.

Your features softened and you gave one of your own. “W-we’ll f-find one y-you like.”

Donnie gave an interested hum.

He did like an objective.

“Good for you, Y/N.” Mikey spoke encouragement. “You can finally check something off the mega list.”

Donnie blinked once towards his brother and back to you. “Mega list?”

You flushed and disappeared from his sight. “I-it’s nothing!”

Mikey clucked with laughter. “Y/N is actually a fiend at making lists. I called it the mega one, but it’s like their anxiety bucket list of things they want to do someday.”

“You make lists?” Donnie turned an alluring gaze on you. “Let me see.”

You made lists.

He loved that.

He could barely contain himself.

There was so much he didn’t know.

He wanted more.

He wanted every detail.

He was voracious.

“It’s not…” You started to protest, but moved to flip through your phone before offering a page up. “D-don’t expect m-much… M-Mikey m-made it seem b-big… but it’s just a few things that I’ve n-never been able to… do…”

Donnie took great care in plucking your device out of your grasp and read.

Dumpling Night Market

Planetarium Show

Theater Performance

Amusement Park  

Donnie smiled. “Nice formatting.”

Mikey hummed agreement.

Donnie rolled his eyes and held your phone out.

You took it with a tentative look in your eye.

“It took forever to convince Y/N they were ready for even one list item.” Mikey mentioned to Donnie before looking at you. “I’m really glad you won’t miss it again.”  

You gave an excited nod and held your phone close.

“I will escort you with that in mind.” Donnie told you.

Mikey put a hand on your head. “Now, kids! I better see you back by curfew!”

Mikey was scolded from two sides until he couldn’t contain his laughter.

-

You were late.

You were so late.

Your keychain thumped in tandem with the lightweight bag against your hip as you ran. Plowing forward, you did your best not to bump into anyone. You managed, but still received several dirty looks. Trying to shrug them off as you felt bad enough, you hit a crosswalk buzzing with traffic. Mingling with the others, you checked your phone to find Donnie’s last message was the one confirming he’d meet you there.

You hadn’t meant to be late.

You wanted to meet him beforehand.

You’d wanted to talk to him in a place where you didn’t have to battle against the noise of a crowd. 

You wanted more time.

You were finally going to see him.

There was a blip and pedestrians were given the go ahead. You picked up the pace and moved with the throng as you grew closer to your destination. Only a few streets away from the night market, you jogged as best you could with the thickening crowds. The group was converging on the same place and your heart sank as you realized it would be nearly impossible to find Donnie.

That was until you saw him, lifted above the other heads with his goggles down, and doing an obvious scan of everyone entering.

You moved as obviously toward him as you could and when he spied you, he clicked his goggles up and dropped down from whatever had lifted him. Within a few more steps you were united and he snagged your arm against the pull of the crowd before gesturing behind him. You trailed with him, trying not to linger on the warmth of his touch until he tucked you in beside an open area of fence.

You were with him. 

You were finally together. 

For every terror you had about this event, it was immediately either worth it or forgotten. 

“Let’s see…” Knowing he wouldn’t lose you gave him the confidence to observe you. “Your footwear is sensible. Perfect and what’s this...?”

He turned his hand over in an obvious gesture as he carefully took the Black Bean plush clipped to your bag.

“A good luck charm…” You told him.

He appraised it and you with an appreciative eye before he released. “I find your outfit commendable.”

You looked down at yourself with a smile. “I thought long and hard. I have this bag so it’s easy to get to my stuff without being a pickpocket target. I tested out to make sure the plush wasn’t going anywhere. These are my most comfortable shoes and I picked clothes that didn’t stick out or have loops so I won’t get caught on anything!”

When you brought your gaze up, you found him staring with large eyes.

“U-uh, i-is s-something w-wrong?! I t-thought…” You almost wished you had an errant sleeve to tug on.

“No.” He reached out tenderly and took both of your hands. “Nothing at all.” 

“I-I?!” You squeezed him. “Then w-what is it?”

He shook his head. 

There was something to him. 

The carefree nonchalance said everything was as it should be. 

You believed him. 

“Can I also assume you have a plan of attack?” He asked with a bright gaze. 

You perked up. 

All your planning was not only worthy, but requested. 

You pulled from him immediately to get your phone.

He leaned in and you showed him the map you had drawn up. “I researched the past events and then tiered the vendors based on what we have to get. It’s impossible to eat everything, unfortunately.”

You peeked at him and found that same warmth on his face.

It translated to yours and your lips warbled in not knowing how to ask what was stirring him.

Whatever it was, you hoped it kept up.

You felt indebted to him.

Both because you could finally spend time with him and attend this event.

You wanted to do anything that would make this outing easier for him.

You wanted to do anything for him. 

You liked him.

Overwhelmed by a rush of butterflies, you pointed out a nervous finger. “I-if I h-had gotten h-here earlier, w-we could have g-gotten at line for the m-most popular booth… N-now I doubt it’ll m-matter… They’ll s-sell out…”

“I’ll monitor. I can estimate crowds and chart approximate movement.” His chin bobbed and with a sharp snap his goggles fell into place over his eyes.

You hid your giggle behind your phone.

His observation skills were adorable. 

It was hard to recall the time you dreaded them.

You guessed that was the case for everything in your life as of late. 

“Show me your map once more. I’ll log it.”

You adjusted the size and held it up to him.

His goggles made no sound, but his head eventually moved away with a purpose that said he got all he needed. “Only three people are in line at booth option 104. Let’s move.”

You gave yourself one last mental pep talk as you walked. While you coached yourself, Donnie took the lead position in line. Once there, he appropriately judged the people in front, the vendor, and then finally you as he turned to speak.

His mouth was open when you realized you hadn’t started a single conversation the entire time you’d been with him. 

You hadn’t even told him hello.

You went straight into a stupid spiel about yourself before tending to the one man you wanted to take care of more than anything. Flushed at your sudden mountain of failures, you waffled on options and made a pitched sound. His brow cocked an exaggerated high for you to see and he closed his lips so you could take your turn. 

You had interrupted him on top of everything else. 

You could not be ruining this date anymore.

Date.

Where your cheeks were already hot, they exploded.

That wasn’t what this was.

You were barely friends.

You’d barely seen him in 7 months.

Half a year was the time lost from when you told him you liked him in his own kitchen.

You presumed nothing.

You had gone through this already.

You had no idea if he still liked you.

By all accounts, he seemingly didn’t.

In all the small moments you had seen him since, he hadn’t reacted at all. You’d tried sending your lingering intentions to speak to him with your eyes alone, but none of them had coaxed him. You had worked so hard to be appealing. You didn’t dare consider it flirting, but you had looked up non-verbal techniques from ancient magazines. There was a shifting gaze under your lashes that was supposed to be alluring. You’d practiced it for hours in a mirror until you attempted it on him. He hadn’t even glanced at you for more than a second before he was gone. You did it wrong, you were sure after that, but you tried again and again.

All until Mikey had taken notice and asked why you were giving Donnie the stink eye.

You had nearly burst into tears.

A few talks later and Mikey encouraged to actually talk to Donnie, but that was easier said than done.

You need to get his attention, but catching him felt more like hailing a busy waiter in a restaurant. Walking up to him out of the blue was a moot point. The tenuous steps you would take in his direction would undoubtably match the time necessary to talk yourself out of it. All you could do was wait for his attention. For weeks, then months, you waited with darting eyes and hope he would walk your way, but he did. 

He caught you off guard by appearing on a day when Mikey said he would be busy. Despite failing that conversational tree in every way possible, you still ended up here. All your previous worries were founded as here you were, once again getting ahead of yourself on top of a mounting trash pile of shortcomings. Your lip warbled and you felt your throat tighten around sound, but it was swallowed up by the crowd.

The line moved. 

Donnie took his dutiful step with it. 

You followed after and stared at the ground. 

What were you doing?

You were wallowing.

You rolled on the bottom of your comfortable sneakers.

Their cushions kept your feet safe.

You were safely buried in your own psyche.

It felt like too much was on you.

You needed to lead.

You needed to have a good time.

You needed to make sure Donnie did too.

Feeling mixed up, you screwed your eyes shut.

The only thing you could thank the crowd for was that it blanketed your misery. 

For now you were alone in your cold, dark mind.

The empty void where time wasted away.

A smell wafted up to your nose.

One of many that seemed to come and go, this one lingered.

Cracking an eye, sound rushed you first before you realized a small brown tub holding two dumplings in it was being held at your chest level.

It brought your eyes which you traced up to find Donnie’s arm extending them.

He was on the other side with a casual look on his face and his own boat in his other hand.

Your breath came out stuttered and you looked back to the vendor where you were clearly in the way of the line.

You scrambled a few steps to the side while murmuring a string of apologies. 

Donnie followed after, still trying to get you to take the dish.

You grabbed it with both hands. “I don’t… I didn’t tell you what kind… I’m sorry. You had to pay and-”

“I got the one you marked: traditional vegetable momo, aka the most famous at the stand along with the spicy dipping sauce, which was mistakenly placed in my container.” Since you freed his hand up, he plucked the little plastic cup and placed it into your boat.

“But…?”

“Your list.”

You looked down at the faint steam wafting from your food. 

“Your plan was thorough.” He urged you to go ahead and used a toothpick to scoop up one of his momos. 

You rushed to catch up to him and took an immediate bite. Piping hot to the point it scalded, you blew out a few times before the flavor and juices hit your tongue. You then shot starry eyes in Donnie’s direction which he received with a nod. “There’s this girl-” You were careful in pouring a bit of sauce over your other momo. “-she’s obsessed with any kind of chili oil and makes it look so good, but I’m a little scared it’ll be too much.”

“A girl?” He asked as he chewed.

“Someone I follow on social for food in the area. Her videos are so good and she’s super honest. I can’t go to sleep until I’ve watched one. It’s a good thing she posts daily!” You took your second bite with a bit more care and felt the spice blend mingle into the dish. “So good!”

“Quite.” Donnie tapped his tech gauntlet.

Your mouth was full so you couldn’t ask, but you tilted your head in question at his action.

He extended his arm to show the screen had a list of what he would eat and his ratings. “Michael told me to bring back a full report. He knows not what he’s wrought!”

You giggled as you swallowed. “I like doing that t-too! I can look back and think ‘yes, I did love the veggie one!’”

Donnie made it obvious as he added another table and punctuated it with your name. “How many categories would you like to rank them on?”

You stepped a bit closer to him and took his boat to free up his hands. “I’ll stick with one.”

Donnie had a slight wrinkle to his beak in judgment, so he added notes for item, stall, and then an open blank for review.

You dictated your thoughts to him and he took them down word for word.

You watched him then switch back to his own list where he noted food temperature. 

He wrote until you built up enough steam yourself. “Donnie…?”

“Yes?” He didn’t look up.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He wanted to linger on his review, but he drug his eyes to yours.

You saw a clear expression there.

Had he really not noticed?

He usually noticed when you were upset.

Had you banked on that too much?

This was an easy situation to get over-stimulated in.

Did he just not care?

You had no idea where he stood.

“Y/N.” His head lowered some, closer to your vision.

“Y-yes?”

“For what?” He pressed again and one corner of his lips turned up the slightest amount.

He had known.

You hadn’t overestimated.

He cared.

He just wasn’t making it a big deal.

Because it wasn’t.

Your heart filled and you gave him a watery smile. “I was so excited I forgot to say hello!”

His lips expanded with a bit of bright teeth. “True. You were so tardy that it interfered with our entrance.”

You jolted. “I’m sorry! I s-swear I had packed everything in my bag, but suddenly I couldn’t find my emergency kit and I can’t leave home without it!”

“Emergency kit?” He took back his trash and yours with some amusement.

“It’s…” You looked up the top corner of your vision in an attempt to seek out a way to explain it without making you sound insane. “Not… like a first aid kit, but a kit… to well… Um… Cover anything? It has bandages, burn gel, mint chapstick, a to-go pack of antacids, a fishing line, an emergency blanket, hand sanitizer, a granola bar….”

Donnie eyed you with a growing smile.

“Everything's tiny!” You made a box with your hands no bigger than your fist. “The whole thing is like this! It’s compact!”

“Tell me about the fishing line while we head towards number seven on your list; the line has been moving fast.” He swept a hand, but led toward said stall.

You followed after trying to explain how fishing line could be used for not only its intended purpose, but also as thread for clothing or stitches. You went into far too much detail about its utility for your liking and hadn’t realized until it was too late that you’d launched into a story where you’d once helped a friend with it when her bra strap had broken. He seemed undeterred by your babbling and eventually took his turn in explaining his battle shells. They had a litany of their own emergency provisions and you eventually had soup dumplings in hand. This time you let them cool and you shared that you had misplaced the kit because you’d refreshed its supply of stomach medicine for just this event.

“Worried about adventurous eating?” Donnie gestured to his dish.

You gave a guilty nod.

He pushed no further and switched gears to eating and exchanging notes.

Both from the delicious dumpling and because Donnie had not only indulged, but sympathized with your preparedness, you were warmed. He took extra time writing his review and you watched him unabashedly. Letting affection leak on your face, you only wanted to know more. You wanted to know what he thought about every stall even if you couldn’t eat at them. You wanted to walk with him and learn about every invention he ever made. You wanted more of those not so sly confirmations that he was present when with you.

When he finished and moved to pass you a comment, you hadn’t had time to put the love struck expression away.

You also didn’t bother hiding it.

You watched him take it in before he gave a metered one of his own that held a tinge as if it couldn’t be helped.

“Hi.” You spoke the syllable in a voice that sounded melodic to your ears.

It caught him off guard and his brow bent. “Hello…?”

“I wanted to… thank you for coming with me.” You shifted your weight and tried your best to open you body language. 

You wanted to hug him, but had no idea how to initiate. 

You didn’t like relying on him, but it was all you could do. 

He studied you very closely before he seemed unsure in offering one of his hands. 

You remembered how he’d grabbed you when you’d entered the night market. 

It warmed your cheeks and you slid your fingers past his palm to instead grasp his forearm. 

He allowed it. “Glad to be here.”

You moved your other hand up as a signal. 

“I’ve been pleasantly surprised.” This time he placed his arm into your hand to match the other side. 

You held steady as you ramped yourself up for more. 

“The crowd is otherwise tame.” 

You moved your grip up to his elbows. 

“The food’s been enjoyable.” 

You stepped into his space. 

“I can’t say I mind the company.” He spied you. 

Your shoulders rose, sheepish. 

“I wonder…” His head lowered, but he pointedly looked away as if searching for something else. “You seem to want something.” 

“Y-yeah…?” Your fingers curled around his upper arm. 

“You can’t hide a thing on that face of yours.” 

“My face…?” You tried to look up to him, but he was already there, hunched close. 

You were caught by the teasing in his eyes. 

He chuckled lightly and moved to encase you. 

You were ready to return his affection when you caught a glimpse of someone walking by.

You dipped out of Donnie’s hold and started jogging towards that direction. “Donnie! One is open!! Number one! The number one!”

You couldn’t look back where you’d left him behind. 

This seemed like your only chance. 

He appeared with longer legs to surpass you and snapped up the first spot in line at the stall against several other people trying to do the same. 

You joined him at his hip and sent him the full brunt of your gratitude. 

You didn’t feel great about ducking him, but you hoped he understood. 

You never saw his face as the vendor had his attention. 

“Good timing!” The man at the stall cheered. “I just got a fresh batch ready. Almost ran out, but my son came through!”

“This early?” Donnie had a judgmental tone.

You bumped him lightly as you tried not to dance in place.

“You see…” The man opened a steamer and disappeared in a meat-scented blaze. “I usually have a surplus, but there was a party earlier today and my best staff member is on maternity leave!”

“I see…” Donnie nodded, evaluating.

“Surprise boy! Three weeks early.” He placed three dumplings each in two bags. “You won’t see me close. We shall continue on!”

“Good luck to both of you.” Donnie paid and took the food which he immediately passed off as you couldn’t wait.

The man cheered behind before taking the next customer’s order.

Your hands were warmed and you cradled both crinkling sacks while staring through the steam at Donnie. “I can’t believe you tried to sass number one!”

“I’m allowed judge. You got your results.” He cocked a lazy grin as he pinched his portion free from your hold.

“I didn’t think we’d get these!” Your grin was so wide you felt the wafting mist brush your teeth. “I can’t wait. I’ll deal with the burns tomorrow!”

“The list says bao, but there are a litany of varieties. They need to stop curtailing their naming conventions for Americans… What kind are they…?” Donnie pondered as he searched for something.

You secured a bit of fluffy dough and sank your teeth into the scorching softness. 

This was the stuff famous stalls were known for.

You couldn’t help it.

You tossed your head back and gave a full mouthed moan.

You heard a shutter click and shot to attention.

Donnie lowered his phone from where he’d spun around to take a selfie with your euphoric moment. “Good one.”

“H-hey!” You tried to grab the device.

He pulled it away before showing you the well composed image.

You didn’t look bad.

You looked ecstatic.

You dropped a certain level of your complaint.

“Come on…” He held out a hand and flapped his fingers for you to give him his compliment.

“You should have asked.” You told him as if that was a tip and stuffed the rest of the bun in your mouth.

“Well I never!” He feigned a scandalized gasp.

You hummed the notes of ‘I can’t hear you’ as you chewed.

He took another photo and you chased him. “But those cheeks!”

You swallowed hard. ”Donnie!”

“Cute.” He jeered and led you purposefully to another stall.

You bumped annoyed into his battle shell as you waited behind him.

“This one wasn’t listed…” He spoke with a new cadence as if he hadn’t realized where he’d gone.

“Huh?” Your phone was out as soon as his goggles came down. “How can that be…?”

“It’s not on the vendor map.” Donnie turned and pulled his goggles up in time. “How do you account for a situation like this?”

“Try it!” You pulled eager fists up. “A surprise contender!”

He chuckled and seemed to remember his last purchase which he munched on until it was your turn to order.

He quizzed the stall owner on their admittance to the market and came to learn they had slipped in last minute due to a friend of a friend. Donnie openly criticized the sloppy admission process, but you still came away with a set of gyoza. You listened to him pout as you ate yours and eventually prompted him to try. He was only slightly abated by how tasty they were and you cycled through stall after stall.

Talking all while you walked and ate, you eventually grew fatigued of all the wrapped foods and got a pair of fruit teas in bags. The dark coloring and vague menu meant you hadn’t known they were packed with grass jelly which Donnie choked on with his first sip. Put off from the texture and experience, he dumped his while you sipped more carefully on yours. A drink a little too large, you ruminated over wasting it, but it also weighed heavily in your hand. 

While you switched it to your other palm, Donnie tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to follow him. You trailed after and he brought you to a clear spot against a planter box. He hopped up to sit on one side and you stared at its height. It was something you would have to jump up onto you and you weren’t prepared. Struggling further as your drink wasn’t really made to be put down, Donnie took it. You thanked him abysmally as that wasn’t a solution to your true problem. You didn’t have the best track record with getting up on high seats, but you willed with your entire being for this to work. Lowering your core, you hopped up the best you could. 

You missed and scraped your leg as you slid back down to your feet.

Humiliated and hanging onto the planter for dear life, you waited for the inevitable shutter of Donnie immortalizing your humiliation.

Only the sounds of the market continued to drone on.

Peeking at him, you found him looking ahead where his eye darted lazily as he people watched.

You jumped, but missed yet again.

This was the part where Mikey would swoop in.

This was the part you assumed Donnie would too.

Your failing.

Waiting to be scooped up like the child you were, again nothing happened.

This time checking on Donnie found him reviewing the map.

“You’re… not…?” You murmured even though you hadn’t meant to.

“Not what?” He didn’t give you his eye and flicked his thumb to scroll. “We’re nearing the end of your required targets. When we return, let’s get a sweet bun so our taste buds don’t fatigue as quickly since we had a failing in our… drink debacle.”

“Sure…” You looked down at the brick you clung to.

Was he downplaying again?

If you asked, would he help?

You had several more questions stewing, but for the first time tonight you narrowed your gaze and told them no.

Uncharacteristic of yourself, the negative thoughts shirked away into the recesses.

You were tired of it.

You were tired of missing out when none of the things you’d worried about had once gotten in the way. Tonight was a rousing success and you weren’t even feeling that sense of doom that happiness would inevitably lead to ruin. It felt only like everything was as it should be and with a heave, you hoisted yourself up onto the planter and right next to Donnie’s side.

He gave a light chuff. “Look what Raph just sent me.”

Careful and with a certain distance, he tucked an arm behind your back to stabilize himself as he leaned in to show you the projected screen on his gauntlet. You looked at it and felt yourself sinking into his presence. Everything he did tonight was calculated and non-intrusive. While he helped lead, everything he did was orchestrated from your plan. 

You giggled for many more reasons than just the video he showed you. Donnie hummed a sort of affection and swiped so a related video would come up. It almost seemed like he wanted to hear you laugh again. He wanted you to be happy. He wanted to share his light with you as it was shared with him. You leaned in enough that you could play it off as bumping his shoulder, but you gingerly rested your head against him.

He stilled.

You lifted off and commented something about what you had just seen.

You gave him cover. 

You made a mistake.

You assumed.

Just because one wanted their companion in good spirits didn’t mean they had adjunct feelings.

That was fine. 

You were here with him. 

You were having a great night. 

It was okay that his reply was taking too long. 

You had misjudged his intention. 

You knew your place. 

You wouldn't touch him again. 

That almost hug earlier would have been too much. 

It was a blessing that you had interrupted it. 

You logged the information.

It was fine.

You were fine.

His arm shifted and he gripped the brick on the other side of your hip which tucked you in against him.

From the side of his body to his entire arm, he pressed around you. 

It was your turn to tense.

He didn’t shirk away and brought up another video.

Still waiting for his retreat, you let that one cycle for exactly one minute until you found he hadn’t moved. 

Was that an offer?

You were terrified to find out. 

Yet your head tipped and pressed against him a second time. 

For a millisecond every one of your atoms screamed guilt. 

He squeezed you ever so slightly. 

It dispelled your concerns in an instant. 

He’d been startled just as you had. 

You felt drunk off the moment and laughed a little too loud as a lovebird tossed a toy in a jealous fit.

Scrolling there and onto other videos, you spent so long going back and forth sharing things that you only sot of registered that the crowd was tapering off. Donnie shut his gauntlet down while clearing his throat and said the timeline would need adjusting. You hopped off the planter for a relatively alright landing. He stood next, showing you your drink bag that loosely hung from his wrist and tipped his head toward the trash. You nodded furiously, thankful you had an excuse to get rid of it, and he made the quick trip to dump it.

You followed after him, having made some mental adjustments to the schedule and you shared them with him. He agreed with your calculations and together you rushed one line. There you each got dampfnudel and meant to take it with you to the next stall. The line there appeared to be good cover so you could eat your current faire, but time caught up with you. You were still waiting with empty trays after the German dish was devoured. You hummed nervously as you looked across the walkway to see the final stall on your list, your last must have, looking like they were about to close. 

You bumped Donnie in your anxiety. 

He only had to take one look to see what your concern was. “It would make the most sense to split up.” 

“You’re right…” You nodded, trying not to show how downtrodden you were.

“I’ll be quick.” He brushed by you as he slipped away.

You meant to watch after his form, but he spun around and walked a mechanical backwards toward the stall so he could watch you instead.

You giggled and, at first, covered your mouth before you shifted to cup your lips. “Behind you! Your left!”

Donnie dodged a group of kids who rushed around his feet.

He sent you a thumbs up before he neared the cart and finally turned around.

“Move!” Someone behind you shouted and you scrambled as your line moved.

Heart thudding out of your chest for more than one reason, you only spared Donnie glances where he seemed to be talking to the vendor for a little too long. Knowing that probably meant they were sold out, you resigned yourself to having missed one. The trip was nowhere near a loss, but there was something frustrating about getting so close to a perfect run. Stepping forward one last time, you felt Donnie near you and turned to find him toting one single cup.

You looked over it and then him.

He held it just out of your reach.

“What’s up?”

“The last of the night was sold ten minutes ago.” He looked over his holding.

“Then what is…?” You moved up on the tips of your toes to try and look inside.

“How did you put it? Try something new when there’s a surprise contender?” He finally lowered the object so you could see inside.

You spied a splash of warm looking stew topped with a few springy balls of dough.

“I told him about your conquest and he found it impressive. He made me wait as he showed me his dinner. He said it was Madombi that his sister made. He insisted it fits the dumpling theme and that we take some. He talked up his sister’s cooking and forced me to accept an invitation to his brick and mortar restaurant. He tried to give me an entire pot, but I bargained him down to a sample.” He passed you the dish.

You took it with radiating surprise.

“I hope it's suitable… It was the best I could do.”

“Donnie-!”

“PAY ATTENTION!!!” The guy behind you looked to be one step away from body slamming you.

Donnie rose to his full height and glowered down at the man. “We were in the middle of a conversation.”

The man made a peep very much like a scared chicken.

Turning, Donnie tucked a hand behind your back and led you the few paces forward that had you fallen behind in line.

“You didn’t have to…” You murmured, cradling the warm cup.

“True. I wanted to.” He clarified, his hand not moving.

You snatched a spoon from the closest stall as you hadn’t gotten utensils and worked carefully in creating a perfect little bite.

You felt Donnie watching you and the line.

Once you crafted everything you hoped, you held it up to him. “You s-should get the first bite…”

His face was painted with affection. “It’s for you.”

You didn’t relent and only said, “If you d-don’t want it, that’s one t-thing, but…”

He came down in a snap bend and popped the tip of the spoon in his mouth while maintaining eye contact.

You inhaled sharply and watched intently as he came away from the utensil clean.

He then adjusted his posture and considered the taste.

You came away from the one heart throbbing interaction and went straight into the next as you now saw your spoon as an indirect kiss. There was always the option to get another utensil, but you used the excuse of the line stepping forward to abandon that and got your own bite. When you came up to share your thoughts, Donnie was making notes and had your section ready. You dictated your thoughts for him, but you were cut off when the vendor suddenly asked, “What’ll it be?” 

“O-oh, can we get two…?” You checked the menu and found it to be a sleek one food item and one drink. “… bowls, please?”

The worker thanked you and you took a turn to pay while suddenly feeling terrible that you barely had all night.

Now juggling three containers, you turned them to Donnie where he took one of his own.

The two of you walked out of the way of the grumpy man behind you and you debated cross contamination in finishing both dishes so close together.

“I need to pay you back…” You murmured and ate the last bite of Madombi.

“Hm.” There was an airy dismissiveness to Donnie’s tone.

You shot him a look that he pretended to ignore as he sipped the broth from his cup.

You shook your head at him and worked through your new offering while sharing your thoughts. There was another pit stop at a trash can where you worried over how filled they were and all the trash that had been created by this event. Donnie spoke of future technology to deal with waste and you listened with warm interest as he did a good job in simplifying the technical jargon. When you praised him, he only said he had years of practice with a haunted look.

Knowing the audience he was referring to, you gave him a wrinkled gaze. “Do you want to get them something to-go?”

Donnie’s beak scrunched up.

You giggled.

He waved the thought off, but you could tell you planted the idea.

You didn’t make a big deal out of him bringing back up his list and scrolling back through it to see if any contenders were applicable for transport. You mentioned the bao and he seemed to like the idea. You both then wandered with a belly filled saunter back towards that stall.

Night truly reigned over the market as many of the stalls were no longer lit. People were leaking out of the space and seemed to appear between pockets of light from overhead lamps. You drew close to Donnie and were just lulled enough to consider taking his hand when you reached the bao stall to find it closed.

“Well! That’s too bad!” Donnie seemed pleased until something else occurred to him. “We… did we complete your list?”

“I think so…” You got your phone out to double check and listed the stalls you meant to try.

Donnie filled in each notation with what you’d eaten.

“That’s… all of them…” You slowed and stared at your phone with a growing gooeyness to your gaze.

You’d done it.

You’d managed to do the event.

You’d completed your quest with only minor delay. 

Now it was over.

Watching your screen darken, you felt a tug in your chest. There was no excuse now and it had been a few hours since you met. You and Donnie would go your separate ways. It seemed all too fast and there no longer seemed like enough time. In a small fit of dismay, you turned that worry up to him to find him scanning the market with his own urgency.

A bubble of hope said he felt the same.

“Walk me home…?” You whispered as quiet as you could, fearful of your own boldness.

You watched the question permeate him regardless and he came down at you with metered lids. “Of course.”

You gave a withheld nod, joy flooding where you earned yourself another block of time with him.

You might have been projecting, but he seemed just as happy for it and he gestured for you to lead.

You feigned a courteous bow before doing so and he moved beside you to give you his closing remarks on the whole event. He held nothing back, complaining loudly of disorganization and poor line management. You watched on with an obvious fondness. Even though he pulled eyes with his volume, you liked how honest he was. It was how he always carried himself. It felt as though you never had to worry about bothering him because he was going to abashedly let you know the moment something did.

In your distant periphery, you saw a huge swing of movement.

It was a stark contrast to the people meandering around and you slowed.

Donnie took a few more steps before noticing and you got a clear view across the lot.

Just outside of the market proper, there was a stall set up. Something informal, a man stood before a giant flaming pot. He swung high with some type of squeeze bottle in hand and spiraled out what appeared to be dough in perfect coordination. He had amassed a small crowd and you saw another man behind him scoop golden loops out of the burning pot with a comically large spider. The two moved in perfect harmony and you saw fried spirals fly between them. 

“Jalebi…” You spoke with knowledge you didn’t possess as you hadn’t actually seen the dish crafted.

“Pardon?” Donnie fumbled back to your side while also trying to catch what you were looking at.

“I’ve never seen a jalebi stand for real.” You told him, mesmerized as more dough was spun. “There’s videos of street markets online, but never one here. They have it at restaurants, but you don’t see this part…”

Donnie finally located the stall in question and griped. “That is not legal. An open flame like that? They’re begging to be run off.”

You moved closer to Donnie as his complaint broke your intrigue.

He was right. 

You would stay at this distance.

You could watch safely without culpability.

Even the chance of getting yelled at was something you preferred to avoid.

“Yeah…” You forced it to the ground. “Y-you were s-saying s-something about… um…? Oh! You were upset about the stands closing at different times?”

“Yes.” He waited beside you. “If they’re a coordinated effort then…”

He immediately tapered off.

His silence weighed heavily so you looked up to see what had stopped him.

Instead of elsewhere, his gaze was keenly trained on you. 

“What is it?” His head tilted.

You stuttered your confusion.

“Why did you give up just now?” He appeared to loom.

You shrank. “G-give up?”

“Jalebi!” He gestured behind him. “You couldn’t look away. You clearly wanted some, so what changed your mind? Is it because I lacked interest? Are you simply full? Was it the spectacle?”

His attitude change seemed harsh and you flinched further.

He held his stance.

The weight of his gaze became suffocating. “D-Donnie, I-”

“Be honest.” It was a plea.

It was unlike his body language.

It pulled your eye.

This time you tried to examine him without pretense.

Where you’d read anger, you now read frustration.

His drawn brows said it was less with you and more about what he didn’t understand.

He’d been so good to you this evening.

He’d been watching.

The thought repeated and you stepped a little closer to him.

The sharpness of his eye softened, but he continued to beg you for information.

He’d been trying harder than you even noticed to be supportive.

Now that he was faced with a situation where he didn’t know the best course, he’d piped right up with his honesty.

You moved close enough and lightly touched his arm. “I-I’m worried s-since it’s illegal…”

He chuffed into a smile. “You’ve kept the wrong company.”

You blinked up at his insinuation.

“I am very often on the supposedly incorrect side of the law.” He explained with a cock of his brow that said you should very well know that.

You looked down and remembered clearly how he’d terrorized you.

He’d also been building a rocket.

Among a dozen other little borderline nefarious notes you’d heard.

You tapped him once to illustrate you recalled and a second time to give yourself a moment before you looked at him anew.

“I… d-don’t want to get yelled at.” You tried again.

“You won’t.” His face was set in determination and you thought you should always clarify your responses from now on. “How about this? I’ll keep watch and you get yourself one of whatever that is.”

“M-me-!?” You squeaked out until the rest of your horror at having to order something alone took your tongue.

He seemed ready for it. “What are you worried about? You’ve already made one independent purchase tonight.”

For a moment, you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Then it struck you that you’d been the one to order at that last stall.

You hadn’t even noticed.

You’d been distracted.

You’d been out of your head.

He watched on with a half cocked grin as you came to all those realizations.

You resisted sinking into him and offset the feeling by leaning close. “W-was it a t-trick?”

“No.” He reached up and lightly traced your arm. “It was all you.”

“You…” You fought a million more worries and thought of the strength you could siphon from him. “… don’t want any?”

“I don’t know what it is. I’ll reserve the right to taste if that changes your order. You will surprise me with your decision upon you return successful.” He had a levity to his voice.

He made it a game.

He gave you a challenge.

One that was achievable and had a clear reward.

You turned up watery eyes to him and gave a sharp nod.

He stepped out of your way.

You marched straight toward the stand and held your anxiety by the throat. You weren’t going to let a drop of your resolve slip away and you entered the line. You added one caveat to the contest; you weren’t going to make it harder and instead, you were going to sweeten the pot. You decided you weren’t going to look at Donnie until you had your treat. 

The line stepped forward.

You followed suit.

He was there.

He was watching.

He was your safety net.

You would see him the moment you were successful. 

You could do this on your own.

You didn’t need an obvious guiding light.

It was always hanging there above.

Supposedly cold, but in actuality made of overflowing warmth.

Another step and you were next in line.

The men running the stand laughed between themselves.

You had a sense that they were putting on a display to make the most of their time. 

You decided the laws regarding food carts in this city were silly.

Everyone was just doing their best to make it.

It was your turn.

You ordered two with a punctuated peace sign and the man taking your order beamed you a smile for it. He passed something off to the other guy glazing the dough and you watched as there was a flourish of sugar crystals. You were then passed a folded wad of paper with two sticky treats folded inside. Translating your thanks first with your gaze then your wallet, you turned and felt invincible as you headed toward Donnie.

He had a casual lean to his stance and offered you a slow clap as you approached.

“I did it.” You spoke highly.

“You did.” He agreed with a similar sweetness to what was in your hand. “Now tell me what jalebi is.”

You chuckled and unfurled your pack to walk and talk. You told him what you knew and the travel videos you watched. You admitted your guilty pleasure of having them on in the background along with cooking videos. Donnie related that to you getting along with Mikey and you dispelled the notion. Sharing with him your concerns of inadequacy, you took your first bite and had to stop. It was an intense burst of flavor. Pricked with happy tears, you took a few more bites and skipped to catch up to Donnie.

He almost timidly asked about his portion. You split the two you had and fumbled an apology as you gave him one. He took it by steadying your hand and you felt heated when he pulled away. You buried your flush into fried dough and he probed you about what other street foods you wanted to try. It became a steady back and forth that morphed as you walked. You felt like you had gone a great distance as your current topic of discussion was what TV universe you were each best suited to survive in. 

“Ah, to fight alongside Atomic Lass…” Donnie mooned.

You drank in his cuteness like a fine wine.

“Oh.” He said suddenly and stopped.

You missed the cue and made it a few more steps before turning back. “What?”

“We’re here.” He was looking up at your apartment.

“O-oh…” You hadn’t noticed.

His pupil darted for a moment before he swept it up to you. “I have become a big enough mutant to admit when I am wrong: I was wrong about dumplings. They are truly a wide spanning dish that is worthy of a dedicated market.”

You smiled and shifted side to side in an obvious way that you were eating up his admittance.

“Yes, yes.” He let you have it with an eye roll. “Thank you.”

You shook your head. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yes.” He stepped closer. “You could have.”

Hug.

You were overcome with the desire to hug him. 

You wanted your hug from earlier. 

Was that alright?

You suddenly weren’t sure.

You wanted to wipe your hands.

You knew they weren’t sticky because you’d been careful, but you didn’t want to chance making him uncomfortable.

A handshake.

Was that a normal goodbye?

How did you sum up your gratitude?

“I’m proud of you.” He said.

Your heart could have exploded out of your chest and you would have been none the wiser.

“I hadn’t brought attention to each and every victory as that is not my style of learning, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t give you overall praise. You did wonderfully tonight and your progress is phenomenal. Good job.”

You reached for him at an aching pace. 

You had to touch him. 

You had to. 

He met you with a flowing lift of his arms. 

You used them as obvious leverage as your face drew close to his chest. 

He moved in for the motion of a hug and his arms tucked behind you.

You ghosted up his limbs on a trek for his neck. 

He dipped close ready to slot your bodies together.

You caught your hands behind his head, brushing his mask tails in the process, before you used your locked digits to pull him flush to you.

He came easily and trended toward the side to tuck his cheek beside yours.

You wove your head, interrupting his course, and gave him a single lashed look. 

You perceived desire off him and you leaned in just shy of kissing into him.

His beak wrinkled with a squiggly grin and his lids swung shit as he closed the distance.

In a near instant shift, you deepened the lip lock.

You missed this.

Monumentally so.

His sweetness was enhanced by the treat on his tongue.

You needed more. 

You weren’t going to waste a second. 

You released your hands to instead coil your arms around his neck. 

It bumped you apart where he tugged you back in a needy press. 

Kissing once for each month since your last, you were forced to part only because you required oxygen.

Don’t apologize. “I couldn’t help it…” 

“Good.” He spoke heat.

You kissed one more time to grow on before he shifted his grip.

He hugged you tightly.

He squeezed until it was almost too much before he lifted you off the ground and joy brought him to spin you.

“Finally!” He raved.

You were both giggling as he set you back down and peppered you with an assault of kisses. “Donnie!”

“See me again. Planetarium. Let’s do your list.” He told you with a fire in his eye. “Together.” 

How could you deny that? “And that restaurant?”

“Dinner and a show. That will be our proper date.”

“Because this…?” You flushed off to the side.

“I don’t care for retroactive naming.” He squeezed your attention back. “I’m looking forward. I’m asking you out now, right now.”

“I accept…” You told him. 

“You accept.” He repeated to cement the words.

“Yes.” You kissed his cheek. “Yes!” He hoisted you up and you only made it back inside when the jeers from passersby became too embarrassing.

💛 NEXT 💛

I'm currently on vacation so maybe my poor overworked betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 get a break too

[hotheadedhero]

Hi! I was wondering if I can request bayverse Donatello where he finally manages to have enough courage to ask out reader but because he took to long reader is already dating someone? I want the angstiest angst that you can make 😇 also can it be like a one shot?

AN: Oh, honey, you're singing my tune. Had to consult with my angstiest of demons for this one, so I hope it succeeds 😜 (Love your pfp btw <3)

Consequence of Dilatory Behaviour

Donatello x Reader

Warnings: angst

If anyone were to ask Donatello why he loves you, he wouldn’t know how to answer. At least, his words wouldn’t do him justice. The answer he could try and provide wouldn’t come close to demonstrating those reasons. You just seem to radiate this celestial vibrancy everywhere you go, and his calculative mind sits on pause just long enough for him to bask in this full-body wonder that comes with your presence. Day in, day out, you’re an entity with his heart on hold. 

This is why he commits any energy he has spare to making you happy. He wants you to experience the same joy he gets when you do as little as enter a room. He almost makes it his mission to get a good laugh out of you and when he makes you laugh louder than anyone else, he gets this sense of accomplishment. Either he’s imagining it or you genuinely find him that funny. In hindsight, you do share a similar humour. You share a special bond altogether. It’s how and why you’ve always been regarded as a coordinated duo straight from the get-go. Wash and Zoe. Vision and Wanda. Mulder and Scully. Wall-E and Eve. Much like some of these couplets, he desires to move past friendship and onto something more. He only wishes he had the grit to speak on it.

Donnie can’t even blame the situation on being a thinker. Yes, that’s true but he’s still proven to be a man of action. He was the first of his brothers to dive out of that plane without a chute. He blindly tested mutagen on himself without thinking about its ramifications. There have been so many near-death experiences that he’s willfully jumped into and, yet, this is the one instance that he can’t. Any time he entertains the idea, a nameless force pulls him back into a chokehold.

He’s living up to the stereotype that turtles are slow-moving. Slow and steady wins the race? Seems not. It’s hardly a race because he hasn’t even started running yet. This is a solo song he’s been singing to himself for the last year, which sounds unpleasant - hence why he never attempts to put it into words - but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’ve given him so much without realising it: the gut of a lion, the tranquillity of ocean shores, the ease of being someone he can be around without any worries.

To put it simply, you’re poetry in motion. He’s always been a fan of literature but poetry has become a lot more appealing since you’ve been around. He still can’t quite explain why it is as magnificent as it is, why it feels like there’s something hidden deep beneath it that he hasn’t yet discovered. There are just so many beautiful intricacies to these words and how they paint pictures that illustrate the writer’s feelings. He spends some of his nights trying to put his own verses together, taking this inspiration and running with it in his mind, such as how you’re the comfort of dusk adorning the captivating light of a sunrise. Perhaps it’s best to leave it to the professionals.

One famous poet in particular has caught his attention the most. When he thinks of you, he thinks of a quote by Alfred Lord Tennyson, ‘If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever’. He can’t manifest this into reality and prove it, however, which is why he chose to make a flower out of spare metals. A garden can’t continue for eternity but a flower made out of unperishable materials can at least live close to such; something to personify his endless love for you.

An argument might be made that he’s obsessed and maybe he is. Or, less obsessed and more so enchanted to the point of devotion. Maybe he’s a hopeless romantic at heart. Although, he’s beginning to think it isn’t hopeless after all. As of late, your hand lingers on his arm just a moment longer than it normally would. You laugh with a more elongated chime. When you make eye contact, there’s this lazed glassiness that makes him warm all over.

You seem to be a lot merrier. Donatello has always revered you as a bright spirit but you’re extraordinarily more animated than usual. Whatever it is that has you so additionally elated recently, he’s become gluttonous for it. It feels selfish to be indirectly reaping the benefits of your happiness but he finds himself unable to help it, nor can he stop it. You always enrapture him with everything you do and this brilliant ray of sunshine you emit has him drawn in like a moth to a flame. His rose-tinted glasses have him convinced that it has something to do with him, so naturally he has to fly closer.

That’s right. After months of pining, he’s finally going to shoot his shot. First, he wants to add some final touches to the flower he’s made. It isn’t all that big - probably as tall as the width of his hand. All he’s had at his disposal is whatever he found lying around the sewer, so he’s put the effort into making it look as pretty as possible. Contrary to belief and despite his anatomy, he’s actually incredibly delicate with his touch. He has to be with the kind of work he does. The last little details are proudly set and, like clockwork, you come bounding into the lair and head straight for him. He’s quick to hide it in his pocket before you have a chance to see.

And as you stand opposite one another, you both blurt out, “I’ve got something to tell you,” in unison, Donnie somberly, you energetically.

The two of you laugh at each other and call a jinx before laughing again. Your elasticated smile makes the turtle’s face hurt with one of his own. What could possibly have you so fidgety with positive hysteria? He supposes he’s bubbling with a frenzy himself but he’s intrigued to find out why you’ve come storming into the lair.

“You go first,” he offers.

“Okay, okay, so I didn’t want to say anything just in case it didn’t work out but I’ve been seeing someone,” you ramble ecstatically. You only stop for a dramatic pause, to catch your breath, before excitedly proclaiming, “And now we’re dating!”

Seeing someone. Dating. The words make it to Donatello’s ears but the reality is that he’s now drifting. White noise blares so loudly that everything starts ringing. He can hear every breath that passes through his lungs, every beat of his hurting heart as it plummets to his stomach. His eyes shift out of focus and even you in all your magnificence disappear for the first time since he’s known you.

To be dilatory is to be slow to act. So absorbed in his procrastination, he failed to see this creeping possibility until it unveiled itself to him at the last second - the second he finally gained the courage to speak out. In this same second, he realises the source of your upscaled mood. Of course. That makes so much sense. More sense than him believing it had anything to do with him.

“No need to be so shocked,” he hears your voice again, followed by a laugh. “I’m not that undatable.”

“No, no! It’s not- no, just-” There might as well be an earthquake with how much his lips are trembling. He tries to catch himself before he falls, before you can catch onto the source of his stuttered mumbling. Donnie sucks in a breath along with a laugh in a futile attempt to lighten up. “I’m just surprised you kept it a secret this whole time.”

Your eyes shine up at him with your smile, so brightly that it stings his vision rather than enlightening him as it usually would. “I wasn’t going to take that chance and jinx it.”

“Congrats," he manages to breathe out. "I really am happy for you."

“That means a lot to me, D. Thank you.” Your fingers land on his forearm and he tries to keep it from shaking. Luckily, you pull away before his muscles convulse and wave your hands up. “But that’s enough about me. What was it you wanted to say?”

His hand clenches in his pocket and he can feel the flower’s metal creaking against his tendons. It wouldn’t be fair to say anything now. He could live with risking rejection because you could still be friends. He would have spoken his peace and things would resume as normal. Now? It only stands the chance of making things awkward. There’s no point in trying to dismiss your question either. He’ll only make himself seem suspicious and you’ll badger him for information. You have your ways and, unfortunately, he has a hard time keeping things from you when you get investigative.

Donatello pushes the middle of his glasses closer to his face and discourages your curiosity with a warm, trusty smile. “It’s not nearly as exciting as your news but I found a website for that movie you wanted to watch.”

“That’s great!” It seems you’ve taken the bait. “We can watch it tomorrow?” Your hands clasp together and you blink up at him sweetly. “I just wanted to give the news quickly before my next date tonight.”

“Sure. Have fun, okay?”

You nod intermittently and give him a quick peck on the cheek before darting off. As you take your leave, every step feels like a manifestation of you getting further away from him. It isn't as though you're disappearing from his life but you might as well be. He just can’t seem to get a hold of himself. How did the last couple minutes of conversation beat him down so much? How could he have been so foolish to let you slip through his fingers like this? If he were more straightforward, brazen, or charismatic as his brothers, he wouldn’t have dawdled on the idea. He would have just gone for it. He would have taken action. This could have been different. You could have been his. Or, at least, he could have let his mind be rid of these thoughts.

He takes the small flower out of its hiding place, now misshapen from being cramped up in his pocket and his deathly clutch. It still holds its meaning. His love for you shall remain eternal. The only difference now is that this undying love comes from a broken heart, missing pieces and bent out of place just like the little flower. The idea of throwing it away is marginally tempting but he’d feel too guilty, as if he was trying to throw you away. He couldn’t do that even if he wanted to. Even if would guarantee easing his heavy chest, he still couldn’t do it. You mean too much to him. You always will.

Instead, he gently places it on his desk where it will forever remain to collect dust.  Tennyson comes to mind once again with his arguably most famous quote of all, ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ He would like to take consolation in these words but it isn’t as though he had the proper chance to love you or show such. The rug was swept away from him before he even set foot. 

Donatello slowly descends onto his chair, staring at the flower, and in this moment, he thinks he understands the dark underlays in all of those poems he’s read. He reckons that the layer of mystery he was so fascinated by has finally revealed itself to him. His eyes fall shut and his head rests back, and he allows the silence to swallow him whole as he solely expresses to himself and only himself as he has always done this whole time.

Love breaches the stronghold of man’s chest, but melancholy is the derisive sensation of emptiness that comes with knowing this love has nowhere to go.

[nightsunecilpse]

Now with the mention of Theia, I think it is a good time for theories. I have in the past talked about the Earth and Moon's strange relationship. Luna acts as Earth's white night and Earth treats Luna as a servant. In contrast to the other planets and Moons, they're unique as the other moons need their planet's protection. An argument can be made that Luna is protecting the Earthlings so of course his protectiveness is necessary. To that let me bring up the time Luna left Earth to orbit Mars to make him appreciate him. He only dropped out of the revolution because the death of all Earthlings meant killing Astrodude's family and destroying his friend's proudest achievement. All Luna wanted from the revolution was to be acknowledged and appreciated by his planet, his closest friend. He has built himself to accommodate Earth and is willing to throw himself in danger if it means his friend's safety. So what does the freaking picture have to do with this? Well, I want to expound on how far Luna has taken his defense on behalf of his planet.

The DSOTM was a character I was perplexed about. I thought maybe he was Luna's personified intrusive thoughts or his impulsive thoughts but that can't be it. DSOTM may appear to be Luna's more edgy side but evidence of him showing genuine care for Luna when he was neglected or when he was about to fall into Earth says otherwise. He isn't as edgy as he makes himself out to be and he's potentially as caring as his other side. Luna also does talk to him as if he's a different body and other characters can recognize he's different from Luna, so it's not just Luna's imagination. There's enough evidence to confirm Dark Side and Luna are completely different characters that share a body. Why though? It could be because Luna is tidily locked with Earth and in early formation, it created two sides of the moon. That'd be fine if it wasn't for the fact all the other bigger moons are also tidily locked with their planets and lack a dark side. It could be a creative choice as well but I think there's more to the story. After the collision with Earth and Theia, it left a pretty big mess but it gave the Earth the moon or moons.

The way the moon is thought to have developed was after a collision between two protoplanets 4.5 billion years ago. There were pieces flung from both planets into space and it didn't take long after for the moon to form. But it's thought while the moon was still solidifying another celestial body hit the young moon causing one side to be thinker. Luna was made from a mess and by trying to clear its obit destroyed this previous moon. Luna as a character, might have done this unintentionally or my favorite idea, Luna was just protecting his planet from another impact and used his own body to stop it. They say the moon did form pretty close to the Earth. Perhaps in a metaphorical sense, Luna was immediately attached to his planet and was willing to do anything for him. By the time Earth 2.0 woke up, he'd had only one moon and a lot of space debris around him. As it's implied Earth can't remember anything before the impact and he might have believed Luna came from the junk that floated around him like the other moons. So it's not a far stretch to say Earth didn't see how Luna was truly formed. He might not even know about Luna's dark side as it shows Luna shushing Dark side during his first speaking role or moving away from the planets to talk to him. It is a secret he keeps from his planet. However, if Planet X is the character we all know he is he could be the one to plant the next conflict for the arc after this one.

My prediction is planet x will twist how Luna sees his friendship with Earth. He may expose Luna for being a lunatic when it comes to his planet but it'll happen too fast for anyone to fully process it. Heck, X might pull out everyone's skeletons when it comes to collision. Such as Triton, the former dwarf planet, and the third-degree murder of Neptune's previous moons. This is only a theory though and we can all laugh at this when it's debunked. Whatever happens next, I can't wait.

[talonabraxas]

"There is a powerful being living inside the sun serving the Solar Logos called the Avatar of Synthesis." -Alice A. Bailey Galactic Logos Talon Abraxas In the theosophical teachings of Alice Bailey, there is a powerful being living inside the sun serving the Solar Logos called the Avatar of Synthesis. Its job is to transmit the seven rays from the heart of the sun through the seven spirits before the [solar] throne to all the life waves of the solar system. According to Benjamin Creme, the Avatar of Synthesis is functioning at the 17th level of initiation. In the Ascended Master Teachings, this being is called Ray-O-Light. The Solar Logos itself must be at least several levels beyond the 17th level. The Solar Logos, the Sun God in Theosophy, is personified as the cosmic beings Helios and his twin flame (celestial wife) Vesta, the "God and Goddess of this solar system", in the Ascended Master Teachings. Perhaps several dozen or a couple of hundred of levels above the Solar Logos would be the Galactic Logos. In the Ascended Master Teachings, the Galactic Logos is personified as the cosmic being Averran.

"The ladder of being [i.e., of initiation] extends upward into clouds of light, into which few of us can yet penetrate, and when we ask those who stand higher than we and know infinitely more than we do, all they can say is that it extends beyond their sight also. They know very many more steps of it than we do, but it goes still further, onwards and upward to unimaginable heights of glory, and no one knows its end." -C.W. Leadbeater The number of levels of initiation ultimately would depend on the physical size of the Cosmos, because enough souls would have to climb the ladder to ensoul all the stars with stellar logoi and all the galaxies with galactic logoi, plus provide staffing for their attendant cosmic bureaucracies of angels, archangels, etc., as souls beyond them on the scale of initiation move up the ladder. If Alan Guth's inflation theory, which states that the actual size of the Cosmos is at least fifteen orders of magnitude larger than the observable universe (itself 93,000,000,000 light years in diameter), is correct, then there could be several hundred or even thousands of levels of initiation necessary to staff the large scale structures of the cosmos before reaching the level of the Cosmic Logos. In the Ascended Master Teachings, the Cosmic Logos is personified as the cosmic beings Alpha and Omega. If the concept of the Multiverse is true, then other hierarchies exist in other Universes. It is believed in Theosopy that the concept of the Multiverse is true because Theosophists have stated that the Universal Logos has created many other cosmoses besides our own.

[theinvitedrider]

[maiden-of-the-waters]

Her Backstory

//Not proofread, and I used google translate for the Chinese, please forgive any spelling errors

@tunadunanana I did involve your Birdie at the end, though I tried to keep it vague enough to allow everything to make sense 😁//

The maiden of the waters, Bèiké as she’s been famously nicknamed, simply came into being one day. She does not know When, or Why, or by Who’s Will did she come to be or why she gained consciousness.

But she did and instantly knew that she was the personification of the world’s waters, from the ocean to the lakes, from the streams to the rivers, even the rain being held by the clouds in the Heavens.

Predictably, this force attracted the attention of many a dragon, storm deity and celestial, feeling the power in the world shift. They worried what someone with such power would be capable of if left unattended. And sought the opinion of the great and merciful Jade Emperor and his infinite Wisdom, and His beloved Concubine, the serene and merciful Lady Mazu, who held dominion over the world’s Seas and Oceans.

The Lady Mazu saw that even personified, she was able to command and sooth the water maiden’s fear, and convince her to flow with serenity once more. And seeing as this didn’t affect her role as the Goddess of the Seas, was satisfied. She turned to her royal husband and asked for an unprecedented favor, one that shocked everyone.

(More under the cut to save room)

The Maiden of the waters was beautiful and - when soothed of her anger and fear - serene and tranquil. And seeing that she had no parents, Mazu decided she wanted to be the ultimate mother of the Seas, and asked her Husband to recognize the Maiden as not just her daughter, but their daughter.

The Jade Emperor, in his wisdom and understanding, both saw the opportunity this afforded him as the ruler of the heavens, having the ocean itself as his recognized child, but also the risks it could carry, as the ocean and storms could be unpredictable, and this Maiden was the personification of that. But having her close as a family member allowed the celestials to better keep a watch over her. And at this point, having already learned their lesson of being too lax with a certain Stone Monkey, knew better than to let such a power go unattended.

So he agreed, and the Maiden of the Waters was given the virtuous title; Yín zhēnzhū gōngzhǔ (銀珍珠公主) ((silver pearl princess)) and was officially made his and the Lady Mazu’s Adopted Daughter. Soon after she was given the nickname Bèiké (貝殼) ((Seashell)) by her New mother. And since then, that is what she called herself.

Despite the initial worries and suspicions, Bèiké proved herself to be a filial and attentive daughter. Honoring both her new father and mother with all the affection and respect their titles and status demanded. Both The Jade Emperor and the Lady Mazu were increasingly satisfied with the Princess. She enriched her mother’s palace with all the treasures the waters that the world created and the halls were filled with the serene music of oceans.

If the lady Mazu’s palace was beautiful before, it was absolutely radiant now and the Lady couldn’t be happier.

They also found joy and amusement in their new Daughters romantic heart and her love of love stories, poems, arts and songs. She loved the idea of love and would often surround herself with such things, and passionately collect and listen to stories and plays about star-crossed lovers, gentle tales of two people finding one another, weeping when hearing the tragic love of the Chang-e and her Hou-Yi. Or even her new Half Sister, the Weaver Maiden, Zhinü (织女) and her lover, Niulang (牛郎), and even went out of her way to ensure the Double Seventh Festival, when they are allowed to meet once a year across the Milky Way was never covered by a rain cloud.

She was overjoyed when her new brothers gifted her Love Birds who sang the most beautiful melodies, she was over the moon when her new sisters came to her with books they had somehow obtained of hero’s going and winning the heart of the princess, or brave soldiers saving the damsels in distress who then found their happily ever after. She would often speak with them in the secret of her rooms about their own ideas for love stories and fantasies of handsome and powerful men to come and sweep them away.

She loved love and looked forward to the day when she would find her beloved and have a family of her own. Going so far as to daydream in her royal mother’s presence about how filial her future children would be and how she’d make sure they honored their grandmother and grandfather as well.

However, one thing that both the Jade Emperor and the Lady Mazu didn’t account for was the absolute connection Bèiké had to the worlds water, and this Earth Bound connection drove her to frequently return to the waters of the mortal world to reconnect with her element. They even found it was impossible to force her to stay in heaven, as she would simply dissolve into a mist and rain back onto earth where she would reform. Seemingly without her conscious consent.

This raised another concern within the heart of the Jade Emperor as he remembered his sister; the goddess Yao Ji (瑶姬). And the mother of his infamous nephew, Erlang Shen. Both he and the Lady Mazu were able to have dominion over the oceans and seas by Claiming Bèikè as their daughter. However, if she were to fall in love, and marry, her husband would gain that control as well. And after seeing how his sister acted in the mortal world, combined with the fact there were times The Jade Emperor couldn’t control Bèiké…

And the fact their the Silver Pearl Princess was a known romantic whom many a celestial were already looking towards as a potential bride and wife…that worry only grew.

He brought this Concern to the Lady Mazu, who agreed his worry was valid, and together, they came up with a plan.

————-

Sealing her Heart

————-

When Bèiké returned to her Mother’s side, bringing gifts to honor her mother and father once more, she was brought instead brought to a grand banquet.

At this time, it had been a year since her Adoption, and her royal parents saw it fit to celebrate it as her Birthday, throwing a feast and celebrating her entrance into the royal family. In which everyone was invited to honor the Yín zhēnzhū gōngzhǔ and make merry! It was a beautiful time and it’s said that the oceans and seas glowed that night with magnificent colors. Bèiké, who normally was satisfied with the quiet tranquility that came with being by herself, allowed herself to get swept up in the celebrations that were held in her name. Thanking her royal parents for honoring her in such a prestigious event.

Afterwards, when she normally would’ve retired to her rooms with the attendants she was given as a Royal Princess to wind down from the night and settle her mind, she was surprised to find herself summoned to her fathers rooms. Even more surprised when she arrived to find her mother there as well.

The Jade Emperor bid her to take a seat and celebrate with him as the Lady Mazu in a more private, family celebration. The Jade Emperor has ordered a special tea to be created for his filial daughter as a reward for her loyalty and attentiveness. She bowed and gave her thanks for her father’s efforts to make her such a thoughtful and special gift. She loved the teas of the palace. They helped settle her heart and mind even on the most chaotic of days.

She toasted her parents and drank the tea her Royal father gave to her, feeling even more honored when her mother poured it herself instead of having an attendant pour it.

It was delicious, a flowery aroma with a perfect mixture of a sweet and tart flavor, unlike anything she had tasted before. It was a most refreshing drink. She finished the cup at her mother’s behest and her father smiled and bid her to have another. And so she did.

However, as the second cup was finished, a wave of exhaustion washed over her, the room spun. She voiced her weariness to her royal parents, and they simply soothed her worries. Letting her know it was simply a side effect of the tea.

As she collapsed, she was still aware of what was happening within her body. What that Tea - No, what that… potion, was doing to her.

It traveled through her body and to her heart. Bèiké, for all she was the personification of the world’s waters, had a Human Heart you see. She could Feel Happiness, Sadness, Joy, Anger, Rage, Hatred, Amusement, Jealousy, Sympathy, Empathy, Fear and Love.

No one ever knew how, when, or why the Personified Waters that was the Yín zhēnzhū gōngzhǔ possessed a Human Heart, but she did.

She felt the Potion wrap around her heart and begin to infuse within it, sealing something within her that she wouldn’t fully understand until later.

She awoke the next morning feeling the same, but knowing that something about her had changed on a fundamental level.

She found she had lost all interest in her romantic poems and plays… the stories that once held her undivided attention now barely touched her fascination…

She no longer held in interest in marriage, she no longer held an interest in making a family or finding her forever love… her romantic heart was gone, replaced with the cool and unattached feeling of indifference.

She found she still loved her family, her loyalty and attentiveness to her royal mother and father remained unchanged and attending to them gave her the same feeling of joy and satisfaction as before. She even loved her siblings the same despite the minimal awkwardness that they all usually shared, interacting with her as an adopted sibling.

She still loved the love birds she was gifted, she still enjoyed the passion behind the music that was played… but she no longer felt the urge to go out and obtain that type of love and passion for herself.

That part of her was simply…. Gone…

——————

Coming to Terms

——————

She released the love birds to enjoy the freedom in her gardens, she gifted the poems and stories away, she stopped requesting the plays and musicals. She became quieter as her desire disappeared. Not seeing the need to speak as much. Becoming a listener instead.

She instead focused on her waters and ensured they were tranquil, with the exception of the storms that fertilized the soil. A task she had always found passion and joy in. She returned to earth more often to be amongst the waters of her being. And within the darkest depths of the deep, she allowed herself to be alone with her thoughts.

She knew the tea she drank that night is what caused her passions for love to cool and disappear. She also knew there was no way to reverse what was done. She may be the Maiden of the world’s waters… but it was a potion made by the Jade Emperor, ordered by him to drink and she did so willingly… she couldn’t undo what had been done…

But, as she thought, she came to an understanding as to why her parents had done what they did… the worry they must’ve felt.

What happened to the tragic Yao Ji was no secret… she had been told in a whispered voice when she first had been introduced to her infamous third eyed cousin and witnessed the tenseness and uncomfortable atmosphere his mere presence invited.

The sealing of her romantic heart had gifted her clarity… had she gotten married, her husband would’ve gained control over her. In her love and devotion, she’d do whatever He’d ask, at the risk of the balance of the world…

That couldn’t be. While she was… hurt, by the trick her Adopted Royal Parents had pulled, she grew to understand and accept their reasoning. What they had done to her. How they had changed her.

She found herself grateful they hadn’t taken her heart entirely, she still felt love for her family and the friends she had made… she still felt her joy and her other emotions. They simply stole her desire… which, was something she felt - now - that she could live without.

She increasingly enjoyed the serenity of her waters, the beauty of how the light danced below the surface, the ebb and flow of the tides and currents, the sounds and songs of the sea. She didn’t return to the jade palace for 3 cycles of the moon.

When attendants, heavenly soldiers, and even a dragon king found her and asked her about her lack of visitation in the palace, she simply responded that she would return to her Mother’s eventually, but that she needed to tend to her waters first, she’d been distracted for too long.

—————

Returning to the Palace

—————

When she did eventually return, she returned as she always did. Bringing gifts and taking the time to honor her parents and greet her people.

Bèiké then had a private audience with her mother where they spoke for a long while. What exactly was said in those rooms is known only to them. But in the end, the attendants witnessed as she gave her mother a hug and told her she forgave her. She later did the same with the Jade Emperor.

That day, the relationship between parents and daughter went relatively back to normal. And a few days Later, the Jade emperor made a public announcement that the virtuous Yín zhēnzhū gōngzhǔ would be an eternal Maiden. Never to be married and forever unattached to matters of the heart. He would accept no proposal for her hand and any attempt to wed her behind his back would result in a swift and painful punishment.

After that shocking announcement that took many a celestial by surprise, Life returned relatively to normal. Bèiké tended to the waters, she did her filial duties, and she filled her days with poetry, novels, spending time with her siblings and the palace scholars. Though her voice was heard less often, becoming more of a listener.

———————

The Journey

———————

Eventually, she met the virtuous bodhisattva, QuanYin, on one of her visits to the Jade Palace, who was impressed by Bèiké’s tranquil nature and asked her if she’d be willing to assist the noteable reincarnation of the Golden Cicada, the Buddhist monk, Tang Sanzang, and his journey to get the Tripitaka Scriptures.

Bèiké said she’d be honored, however there was no way she’d be able to stay by their side the whole journey due to her nature as the world’s water. It’d be easier if they could just summon her if they need assistance.

QuanYin nodded and told her that she will give each of them a magic pearl that will always magically return to them, and that when the pilgrims drop the pearl into the water, and call her sacred title bestowed upon her by her Royal Father, asking her to come to them, she will hear them and be able to transport to wherever they need her.

Bèiké agreed and together with Quanyin, blessed each of the pearls with a bit of her essence so they could connect to her.

She was summoned faster than she could’ve predicted… or maybe she lost track of time within the endless beauty of her waters… but either way when she saw them, they were just as surprised to see her.

They were… funny. And she very quickly decided she liked them. They were flawed and disorganized, but they had loyalty to one another and were beautifully mortal at their core… Well, most of them.

That stone monkey, Sun Wukong as he called himself, the self proclaimed ‘Great Sage Equal To Heaven’ confused her. Though, she thought to herself, perhaps she should’ve expected as much. Stones are usually designed to sink, and yet this one learned to fly through the clouds.

Of course her waters would find themselves confused.

She aided them when they needed her and formed careful friendships with all of them, even the Monkey made of Stone.

——————

In the Birdie Au

Though she formed the closest friendship with a phoenix maiden with many colors who reminded her of a combination of her youngest sisters, and how she was before her heart was cooled. The Phoenix Maiden, affectionately Nicknamed ‘Birdie’ by her companions, was beautiful. With long ebony hair, embraced in colors that seemed to be weaved by her sister Zhinü herself, she was a vision of the beauty of the heavens. A rainbow in the sky, a piece of the sun that had broken away as she flew.

Birdie was someone she grew increasingly close with in friendship, and soon, she looked upon and over the Phoenix Maiden as she would her other sisters she felt tenderness and protectiveness over.

——————-

Normally

He closest friend and the person whom she enjoyed the company of most was one, Sha Wujing. The river spirit with brilliant Red Hair that reminded her of flames for all he was a Water Yaoguai. He was a large man who had the physique of a warrior but the temper of a learning Buddhist, More humble than the celestial Swine, More mindful than the Stubborn Monkey king. Bèiké and Wujing seemed to bond well with one another, Bèiké even being able to tell his mood whenever he found himself within the water.

She soon began to call him her Brother, and She was his sister. They spoke of many things at night in camps slightly away from the others, and she confided in him the potion she drank that sealed her heart. How she was hurt, but how she also forgave the ones who tricked her to drink, because despite the trickery and secrecy, Bèiké found herself being the better for it.

When the journey eventually came to an end, she granted them permission to keep her pearls in case they ever wanted to see or speak with her, or if they found themselves in need of Aid. Though she gave Wujing a different, Iridescent Pearl that did the same as the original Pearl, however with the added effect she knew who exactly was summoning her and if they were in distress or not.

———————

Nowadays; during the events of Black Myth

———————

Bèiké is still the eternal maiden, the sacred princess who’s rejected a thousand suitors, the tranquil lady of the waters. she loves her territory and the denizens within the waves. Her highest loyalty is to her royal parents and her friends.

However, she understands that sometimes her father’s actions can be cruel, and if it benefits her or those she cares about, she will keep secrets from him, and even use her powers to help obscure his vision in areas using her storms.

She had made peace with her cousin, Erlang Shen, understanding his mother’s strife and his own anger. She had even assisted him a couple times in his own challenges, summoning storms that blew in his favor. And offering a place in her personal palace in the mortal world to rest and sooth his mind.

She thought all was going well. So when she heard the rumors on the wind of her Cousin and her Sworn brother conspiring to remove his Headband permanently she was thrown for a bit of a loop and then decided that it was within her father’s nature and the court’s to lie about such a think for the sake of maintaining what they believed was balance and control.

She didn’t like it, but she had accepted it. As she understood the desire they both had for freedom. She had confronted the two, admonished them for their stupidity, but then wished them luck and said she would aid them however she could so long as it didn’t give away her involvement.

The fight had been hard, and she had to turn away, finding solace in the deepest parts of the ocean. She had ensured that Wukong’s people were safe - spiriting them away to her seaside palace that rarely had any visitors as it was an earthly palace and not a heavenly one.

Protecting the mountain itself was similarly a small matter. Asking her father in front of the entire court if she could be given the mountain as a birthday gift since that “Troublesome Monkey” was dealt with. The monkey Yaoguai’s had taken to fleeing, there was no great threats there, it was easier for the family to visit, and it was a gorgeous paradise! It was a shame to see it destroyed by her cousin than take it for her own.

Erlang played his part in proving counter arguments so that no one suspect them working together. And Bèiké shamelessly used her position as one of her father’s favorite daughters to obtain his agreement.

When she heard rumors of the Destined One who had re-emerged, she sighed in relief. But stayed away in case she brought too close attention to him as he grew.

At the end, when his memories had returned, she happily returned his mountain to him.

———————

Nowadays (With the Birdie AU)

———————

Most of everything is the same; she’s still an eternal maiden who’s rejected a thousand suitors, she’s still the “tranquil lady” of the waters, she’s still close with her cousin and her sworn brother, the Monkey King.

However, when she had inadvertently overheard his and Wukongs plan to free the Stone Monkey of the Buddha’s tightening headband that was welded to his head, she found herself angered once more.

Because their actions were going to inadvertently hurt the Phoenix Maiden. However by the time she had found Birdie, it was too late, and the fight had already begun. Bèiké found herself forced to stay silent on her knowledge lest she cause her dear friend and sister even more heartbreak.

But she vowed she’d never forgive Erlang and Wukong for the grief they caused that day. Not until the groveled and begged Birdie for forgiveness, and Birdie accepted their apologies…. And maybe even a bit after. She was so angry at both of them.

They didn’t feel the Sobs that wracked Birdie’s body as she held her so tight for fear the woman in her arms would fall apart, they didn’t have to rush to her side as she awoke screaming from the nightmares that plagued her at all hours of the night, they didn’t watch the Phoenix Maiden’s heart break over and over and have to assist in picking up the pieces, and they didn’t have to see her cry so much that her fair cheeks were permanently stained.

Bèiké made sure she was there for it all, and she wanted nothing more than to take her dear sister’s pain away. Knowing she couldn’t was a torture she never could’ve prepared herself for. All she found she could do, was simply be there.

She shielded her friend from the world, made sure storms raged around her palace when her friend had the worst of her crying fits so no one else besides her could hear them, made sure she rehydrated and reminded her to eat.

She even went so far as to invite the citizens of Mount Huaguo to her palace so they could keep the Phoenix Maiden company and help groom her wings. Letting her be surrounded by people who had loved the Monkey King as well, who could share with her the good memories instead of just remembering the bad.

Bèiké made sure that her Palace on the coast became just as much as Birdie’s home as it had been hers. Banishing Erlang from her territory, making sure the rooms Birdie had claimed were off limits to anyone besides the residents of Mount Huaguo, not even her mother on the rare occasions she visited, were allowed in those rooms. She kept all celestials away from the grieving Phoenix Maiden.

She patiently waited for the day that the foolish king made his appearance. Hoping that her dear sister and friend would allow her to slap some sense into his stubborn skull… or if she wanted the pleasure of doing it herself, inviting Bèiké to watch.

So when the monkeys came chattering about some ‘Destine One’ Bèiké grimaced…

It was time….

She asked Birdie if she was sure… did she want to risk her heart again? She was drowning in grief for so long… but ultimately promised that her pearl still works if she ever needs her, and that she would ensure her rooms stay clean and ready for her arrival.

To give this rumored ‘Destined One’ Hell.

Good luck.

Bèiké returned to the waters as her dear sister took to the sky. Allowing the waters to wash away her worries and return to her tranquil state.

And in her serene mindset, simply waited to see what was going to happen next.

[melodiousmonsters]

Right uh more info on the celestials as I'm thinking about them again. I'm going to be basing their appearances between the ages of "baby"and "old" on those two respective appearances with a hint of the cannon adult designs because I'm not the biggest fan of them and already had ideas for how the celestials would mature, thus with the "still teenage but almost adult like 17 or so but in this situation late twenties" loodvigg design there. Also I have seen the adult loodvigg and I do not like it which is unfortunate as it's my favorite celestial.

Also as mentioned a while ago they have names that aren't their species names which i will list the ones of the that have names so far, scaratar is Dwale, and loodvigg is Fhobia, hornacle's full name is Brineapool but they go by Pool, glaishur is MehTeh, blasoom is Woodwart, syncopite is Aventurr, vhamp is Pistin, and galvana is Xolt. I'm planning on giving all of them full full names with a first middle and last name. the way names work in the monster world is that the first and middle name are given to a monster, but the last name is composed of two halves of their parent's names, or if they only have one parent(monsters can reproduce with themselves by summoning two "breeding eggs" which are basically just eggs that can't hatch into anything, and fusing them together in a similar fasion to how the breeding structure works), they get that parent's full last name. So relations to other monsters are determined by sharing a part of the last name. All the celestials will have the suffix -stratous on their last names, which gives them a sibling-like relation to each other, but most of the celestials don't have full last names yet.

There's a phenomenon of celestial bodies personifying as monsters in the monster world, there's multiple cases of this with different celestial bodies doing so so they are blanket termed as "cosmons". The celestials are a type of cosmon that comes from clusters of stars with sapience. They are the most powerful cosmons only rivaled by clouders, sapient nebulas, wich the only one that exists is the Cataliszt for some reason. The celestials happened to all choose the same planet to project their physical bodies onto. With their physical bodies being composed of their respective celestial element, the natural, fire, ethereal, and electric elements.

Because of this they are highly resistant to any damage taken as their damaged body parts simply need to reabsorb the energy that was lost in an injury and then it can rebuild itself in a matter of a few hours. The only exception is if the energy from that body part was absorbed by something else, but the energy making up the celestials is reserved for them and can't be absorbed by anything else unless a part of them gets eaten, and as long as that creature lives and holds onto that energy that part can't regenerate.

In the early stages of the monster world the celestials didn't know eachother existed, starhenge hadn't been built yet, and the main creatures populating the planet were inmature titans. The celesitals found kinship among the titans and were given their names by them. But not a suffix on their last name as it was unknown who they were related to, the first halves of their last names were given. Eventually following a few events that I have planned out but am not sharing they all met eachother and found out their similar origins, thus assuming they must be related as they are all children of stars and chose their last name suffix stratous.

[that-dreaming-dragon]

Animality. Monstrosity

In observance of Therianthropy Day, I moved my originally intended idea to the next day. Think of this as a bit of filler episode.

When discussion of using therian vs otherkind for self identifier, my picking otherkind is due to a number of things. It was the entry point for me, and various sub communities I joined afterwards also are otherkinity first, the community and language surrounding otherkinity is also generally more aligned to my experience. One of the bigger reason, however, is due to my lack of identifying with the core definition of therianthropy -- to identify as a animal. Or, in more detail, it is about feeling the animality. What that mean largely has to do with one being instinct driven, aka being thiriant (definition: dominant and driven by instinct or sensory based thinking, the opposite of sapience, coined by @paracosmic-gt). Some would use the word feral as a descriptor. But you know, it's "being a animal".

This seems something easy to grasp, but hard to describe. Because we as a community largely understand animality.

While I am occasionally instinct driven, and behaves like a cryptid creature, I'm not wholly a animal. I'm barely a animal at best.

I am a monster.

I'd written about this not too long ago, but the gist of it is that I'm using it in a "this is the category of this creature" sense. Like those of youkai, kami, spirit creature, rpg monster, pokemon, etc.

I don't function like an animal. The direct equivalent I would say is Mew, as it is the primary reason why I call Mew a paratrope. Even if I can behave like a animal, but at the end of the day, I don't feel like a animal enough to call myself therian. I will still casually partake in therian topic and answer question that is directed at therian, because I do see it the same as asking question to nonhuman otherkin or fictionkin. I really don't think my answer will skew much of a result. There are a dime a dozen of dragon therian after all.

What is funny is that Beast, who is my rage personified daemon, has the apt name, because it is beastly, and would definitely identify as a therian should it be the one hosting this human vessel. The only other identity that I could put under a animal category, is my three-tailed, kitsune paratype element, mythical creature, linked hearttype enfield.

Side note: beyond monster, the other words I'd use for myself would be celestial, mythic/mystic, a bit of divine, a bit of deific. More specific would be dreamlings (those with identity that is or has association with the concept and element of dreams). Do we need to mention draconic? :p

[quitealotofsodapop]

"The Monkey King and the Infant" details Part 3 - and likely last for now before I go on Spoiler lockdown so I can write:

links to Part 1 and Part 2:

The Jade Emperor sees/is aware of the canon Monkie Kid series. He thinks the whole situation as a big waste of time. So... remove Monkie Kid = no Monkie Kid series, Monkey King stays retired, and less of a headache for the big man up top. Win win.

The Jade Emperor shows Sun Wukong visions of the worst parts on the series inc; LBD's return, the Samadhi fire being reignited, The Jade Emperor's death and the potential breakdown of the universe etc... This is also how SW learns on accident that Macaque is alive again.

Internally SW is very conflicted cus... the universe might end? But more importantly he might actually die? But also consider; Free Son and a return to his beloved.

Other characters occassionally get tormented by visions of canon events/death omens - likely a side effect of the altered timeline, or the Jade Emperor subtly trying to turn them against one another.

Erlang and various other mythos characters show up. Erlang is tasked with ensuring that SW destroyed MK's egg, but is knocked out by Moksha (on command of Guanyin) to give SW a chance to reconsider. In the egg's place, Erlang found a "shell" of obsidian. This isn't enough to convince Erlang... but it's enough to convince the Jade Emperor and the few members of the Celestial Court who knew about the Egg that the task had been completed. Erlang is sussing SW hard for this... but wants to see what the big deal is with the undercooked Stone Monkey before he says anything.

Moksha is acting as Sun Wukong's parole officer as a "Sorry I bonked you" favor to Erlang. Shows up in glamour at Pigsy's as customer to keep an eye on things. Big shipper under her no-crap cop attitude.

Guanyin herself is Very Against the idea of scrambling MK (Mercy personified yo). But she doesn't appear physically, meaning that not even the Jade Emperor knows that she techincally betrayed Heaven.

Nicknames/familial titles MK calls his fam through out the story:

Sun Wukong = "Dad" "Baba" "Baba Wu" Macaque = "Mom" "Bama" "Baba Mihou" "Mama" (when he was really young) Pigsy = "Dadsy" "Pops" "Boss" (at work) Tang = "Papa Tang" "Pama" (verbal slip as a toddler that stuck) Sandy = "Shúshu/Uncle" Mei = "Meimei" " (little sister - techically she's older but the title is also a pun on her name) Nezha = "Tánggē" "Gege" (grew up thinking Nezha was an older cousin)

When it comes to finally training MK when he comes of age; Sun pulls a "Lego Batman and Bruce Wayne" - hoping that by separating the personas, he'll be able to reach MK better as a teacher. And MK 100% falls for it. Cus "The Monkey King" and his dorky "Dad" are two completely different guys! Right?

Macaque meanwhile has a very different style of teaching:

Macaque, in his series outfit, manifesting from the shadows: "MK, we need to talk about-" MK, battlemode: "AH! THE SIX EARED MACAQUE!" Macaque: "I'M LITERALLY YOUR OWN MOTHER! YOU PUT THAT STAFF DOWN THIS INSTANT MISTER!" MK: "yes sir"

This leads to a funny misunderstanding later on when he sees Macaque and The Monkey King interact during training:

MK: "Wait... if my mom is the Six Eared Macaque... and I've got Monkey King's powers..." MK: *"GASP!"* MK: "MOM!? Did you you cheat on Dad with The Monkey King!?" Macaque: "...really???" SW: *laughing his ass off*

Ok imma punch out and try to finish the first chapter. Will probably post a spotify mix soon. Pls tag or reply, or ask if you got any thoughts/questions. I love feedback!

[deviouscrackers]

I realize I don't have a pinned thing so here

Welcome to my blog, I reblog things. I like celestial/space stuff, I like gay stuff, I like personifying things, I like making things gods, i like talking about myself

My least favourite hobbies are art and writing, which means that's what I'm most skilled at.

My asks are open, please only send questions about/directed to me or my AUs

I'll also take drawing requests since that's the only way I'll motivate myself into improving (and also because its fun!)

Also me: @tsbs-au-fessions, @rebloggin-time

And last of all, because I'm nice, have some of my ocs i made with gacha because i can't draw for more than five seconds

PROJECTS/AUS:

Aside from my various WIPs there is:

The Dog, The Wolf, The Lamb (W.I.P)

Aurivorous (#AurivorousAU)

Solar/Sunbleach (#SunbleachAU)

TSAMS Isekai AU

Solar x Garroth AU

God AU (#tsams god au) (subject to change!!)

December Art Challenge 2024 (Masterpost)

DNI IF: You harrass innocent people for no reason whatsoever. I don't care if little Susie is a proshipper or if young George has a very different opinion/take on a character than you prefer, I don't care unless real people are being hurt

!All my tags are down there!