#Industrial Automaton

[sw5w]

Artoo-Detoo

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:03:07

[ericmicael]

While I'm a fan of the theory that "Frozen 3" will address the Industrial Revolution, I'm not a big fan of it here:

The automatons featured in the "Frozen Podcast".

This is a topic that I was saving for my post focused on the topic, but I felt it necessary to talk about it first since I only intend to create this post after all the episodes have been released.

Before that, technology in the franchise was much more linked to Oaken's inventions, a super engine for a sled, and a train. Nothing too exaggerated and now we have automatons: we skipped a few steps.

My idea of ​​the Industrial Revolution in "Frozen 3" was always much more linked to the threat of its arrival than to something steampunk or dieselpunk (I discovered this term recently and found it interesting). Literally never wanted: Elsa vs robots.

This could just be a take on the topic and not literally the rule of the topic, this podcast could mean nothing and "Frozen 3" could be Elsa fighting people with elemental based powers to decide who is the most powerful elemental magician.

I really want this theme to be in “Frozen 3”: people starting to frown or envy the magic of the spirits that inhabit the Enchanted Forest, and thus start to use technology as a weapon against them; Anna being pressured to modernize her kingdom and coming into conflict with Elsa; ideas like that.

But I'm not really in favor of "Frozen 3" being similar to "Hellboy 2: The Golden Army".

While I'm against the thought of replacing swords with firearms in the franchise, I'm not against a character revealing that he has a gun, but rather the character's last resort actually being a surprise. That's my idea: specific things to make it clear that the franchise is set in the 19th century and not in the medieval period.

[my-sleepy-head]

If customers could stop harassing the robot at work I’d appreciate it…

[fotibrit]

A conspiracy theory starts circulating that Spider-Man is an automaton made by Stark Industries. People make youtube compilations of Spideys quips compared to Tony’s snark, and how Iron Man and Spider-Man tend to “work together” on lots of projects. and that the mechanics of the spider-suit seem a similar style to Tony’s.

Ned brings it up around Peter to tease him so much that people at school start thinking Ned wholeheartedly believes the theory.

[anghraine]

It's interesting (if often frustrating) to see the renewed Orc Discourse after the last few episodes of ROP. I've seen arguments that orcs have to be personifications of evil rather than people as such or else the ethics of our heroes' approach to them becomes much more fraught. Tolkien's work, as written, seems an odd choice to me for not wrangling with difficult questions, and of course, more diehard fans are going to immediately bring up Shagrat and Gorbag.

If you haven't read LOTR recently, Shagrat and Gorbag are two orcs who briefly have a conversation about how they're being screwed over by Sauron but have no other real options, about their opinions of mistakes that have been made, that they think Sauron himself has made one, but it's not safe to discuss because Sauron has spies in their own ranks. They reminisce about better times when they had more freedom and fantasize about a future when they can go elsewhere and set up a small-scale banditry operation rather than being involved in this huge-scale war. Eventually, however, they end up turning on each other.

Basically any time that someone brings up the "humanity" of this conversation, someone else will point out that they're still bad people. They're not at all guilty about what they're part of. They just resent the dangers to themselves, the pressure from above, failures of competence, the surveillance they're under, and their lack of realistic alternative options. The dream of another life mentioned in the conversation is still one of preying on innocent people, just on a much smaller and more immediate scale, etc.

I think this misses the reason it keeps getting brought up, though. The point is not that Shagrat and Gorbag are good people. The point is that they are people.

There's something very normal and recognizable about their resentment of their superiors, their fears of reprisal and betrayal that ultimately are realized, their dislike of this kind of industrial war machine that erases their individual work and contributions, the tinge of wistfulness in their hope of escape into a different kind of life. Their dialect is deliberately "common"—and there's a lot more to say about that and the fact that it's another commoner, Sam, who outwits them—but one of the main effects is to make them sound familiar and ordinary. And it's interesting that one of the points they specifically raise is that they're not going to get better treatment from "the good guys" so they can't defect, either.

This is self-interested, yes, but it's not the self-interest of some mystical being or spirit or whatnot, but of people.

Tolkien's later remarks tend to back this up. He said that female orcs do exist, but are rarely seen in the story because the characters only interact with the all-male warrior class of orcs. Whatever female orcs "do," it isn't going to war. Maybe they do a lot of the agricultural work that is apparently happening in distant parts of Mordor, maybe they are chiefly responsible for young orcs, maybe both and/or something else, we don't know. But we know they're out there and we know that they reproduce sexually and we know that they're not part of the orcish warrior class.

Regardless of all the problems with this, the idea that orcs have a gender-restricted warrior class at all and we're just not seeing any of their other classes because of where the story is set doesn't sound like automatons of evil. It sounds like an actual culture of people that we only see along the fringes.

And this whole matter of "but if they're people, we have to think about ethics, so they can't be people" is a weird circular argument that cannot account for what's in LOTR or for much of what Tolkien said afterwards. Yes, he struggled with The Problem of Orcs and how to reconcile it with his world building and his ethical system, but "maybe they're not people" is ultimately not a workable solution as far as LOTR goes and can't even account for much of the later evolution of his ideas, including explicit statements in his letters.

And in the end, the real response that comes to mind to that circular argument is "maybe you should think about ethics more."

[focsle]

I never did a long thing about scrimshaw, so it’s time! At 1 am, apparently.

I think scrimshaw is one of the most fascinating material goods to emerge from the history of the American whaling industry (which is the context I’m discussing here, though of course the artform exists across numerous eras and cultures outside this brief blip of nautical history).

It’s one way to see amatuer art that usually doesn’t often survive in other forms. To see the art project of an ordinary man who was bored and needed something to do with his hands. Others were highly skilled craftsman, creating intricate engravings or mechanically expert tools. The most common scrimshaw was images etched on sperm whale teeth. Sometimes those images came from the maker’s own imagination and sometimes they were copied illustrations. Ships & whaling scenes, women, mythical figures, and patriotic symbols make up the bulk of the visual language in those pieces that survive.

But alongside the teeth were all a manner of carved items: canes, candle holders, pie crimpers, children’s toys, sewing boxes, yarn swifts, corset busks. So much bone fashioned into quiet little homegoods. And it’s that contradiction within scrimshaw that fascinates me. The brutality of the industry, this ivory from an animal that frankly died terribly, that’s then softened into a little domestic item. An object that could have hours to years of work put into it. Some were made to be sold but many were made as gifts. In the long stretches of boredom at sea, in the lull between back-breaking work and life-threatening terror, scrimshaw gives a window into where the minds of these men continually turned. It shows where their hearts were and what they were holding on to over all the years they spent adrift in saltwater and blood and oil. That’s the poetry I see in scrimshaw. Pain and love and longing and creativity and playfulness all bound together in these complicated little pieces that found their way out of the hands of their anonymous makers to preserve a small part of their story.

Some scrimshanders names are known. Frederick Myrick is one of the most well known American whalers, not so much for the scope of his life (of which little is known) but for his scrimshaw. Born in Nantucket in 1808, he first went whaling in 1825 on the Columbus and then again on the Susan 1826-29. In the last few months aboard the Susan, Myrick engraved over 30 sperm whale teeth, all depicting the ship he was on (though there are a handful that depict other vessels). He signed and dated nearly each one. These pieces are often referred to as ‘Susan’s Teeth’ now, and when one comes up at auction it’s not unusual for it to sell for six figures.

Many of the teeth Myrick scrimshawed included an inscribed couplet of his devising: A dark wish for luck that succinctly gets at the violent and unstable heart of American whaling.

“Death to the living, long life to the killers Success to sailor’s wives, and greasy luck to whalers”

Sometimes large scenes were etched on panbones as well.

Moving from scrimshaw on teeth and jawbones, pie crimpers are some of the more common sculptural items. Popular motifs included animals (dogs, snakes, and unicorns/hippocampus are big), body parts (mostly clenched fists or lady’s legs), and geometric designs.

Others were more mechanically complicated, such as automatons and children’s toys with moving parts and gears. Here’s one of a small rocking sailboat, perhaps made for someone’s child or younger sibling.

Sometimes a particular creative fellow created something more eccentric, like this wild writing desk kit fashioned out of a carved panbone and sperm whale teeth.

Another frequently scrimshawed object was a corset busk that would be slid into the front of the garment in order to maintain the posture. A rather private item compared to others. And one with a very on-the-nose message of wearing close to one’s heart the memory of someone who’d be gone for 3-4 years, who might never come home again. On some level, so many of these daily objects whispered ‘forget me not’, ‘think of me while I’m gone’. 

There’s something tender to all the various domestic items that were fashioned on the job so long and far from home, but it’s the yarn swifts that really captivate me. They were one of the most complicated pieces of scrimshaw to make, with over one hundred different pieces that would have to be carved. It could take someone the length of the voyage (2-4 years) to complete a single one. Unlike teeth which were comparatively very quick to make and were frequently intended to be sold, it’s very unlikely that a swift was made with the aim of selling it because of the significant labor that went into it. They were almost certainly all gifts, and very special ones at that. Every time I see one I can just feel the love towards its intended recipient radiating off of it.

Scrimshaw captures a specific snapshot of a moment in time. On a broader scale it’s a surviving reminder of a bloody industry that flared up and winked out, preserved in the form of a long-lost ship and the spout of a long-dead whale inked on a yellowing tooth. But that snapshot also reveals the emotional world of the men who were caught up in such an industry: what they valued, what they thought about, what they missed, and what they wanted to be remembered of them.

[lesbiansforboromir]

Hey you all know Tolkien's orcs did not invent modern industry right? It's important to me that you know this, the orcs within Tolkien's books are either enslaved or soulless automatons depending on which origin you read about them. All industry that occurs within mordor and isengard comes from the minds of Sauron, Saruman and any number of 'evil' human servants, plans which are then monotonously enacted by the orcs but without understanding or control. The Last Ringbearer is a cool fanfic but it does not represent the reality of the orcs as presented in-world, they are explicitly a so called 'tribal' and 'barbaric' 'creature' that supposedly invents nothing of worth and cannot survive without raiding other so called 'good' races. The much-mentioned conversation between the two orcs in Cirith Ungol about their discontent (whilst noteworthy) does still involve their plans to become bandits together, the only possible path for them. Many orcs are so dependant upon the control of Sauron that they kill themselves upon his defeat. Like I love the effort to excavate orcs from their grim origin, but you do not have to attempt to pretend Tolkien was being less racist than he was to do that. He may have been extremely against modernity, but the theme of modernity's hubris in his books is one exclusive to the powerful, enlightened and 'fallen' humans and maia. And orcs are a race presented as so 'base' and without merit that there is nowhere for them to fall from, hubris is simply not a part of their canon narrative.

[girlkisser13]

hephaestus cabin headcanons

children of hephaestus

• OIL, SOOT, and GREASE STAINS EVERYWHERE.

• the have the most intense games of hide-and-seek in bunker 9.

• a lot of them lose limbs, become disabled in some way, or are born that way, and they often use it as a reason to build themselves cool robot prostheses and other tools to help them get around.

• along with the athena cabin, they come up with weapons and armory specifically for disabled demigods.

• they build advanced prosthetics for campers who have lost limbs in battle.

• they’re warmer than most demigods, even if they don’t have fire powers.

• they always know when someone is in need of a weapon and they just create it without thinking about it. like they just know when someone needs a weapon before they ask for it.

• they're the only ones who can pick out stuff from hephaestus's junkyard without getting hurt.

• everything, the cabin, the forge, the bunker, is 100% handicap accessible.

• they worked with the athena and hecate cabins to upgrade bunker 9 to allow better lighting, safer rooms, new areas to test weapons, etc. they wanted it to feel like an underground space station.

• they name each of their tools and inventions.

• on birthdays, they give each other personalized gadgets that solve everyday problems, like a self-tying shoelace or a self-stirring spoon.

• they design and wear fireproof clothing.

• they actually have numerous secret hideouts and mini-workshops hidden around camp half-blood (bunker 9 is the only one we know about).

• they keep detailed journals filled with sketches, ideas, and notes about their inventions, passing them down through generations of hephaestus kids.

• they build small, mechanical pets or companions that help them with tasks around the forge, each one with a unique personality programmed in.

• they all have a set of personalized tools that they've crafted themselves, often with special engravings or modifications to suit their style.

• they have made so many modifications to their cabin over the years that none of the original material is still there, and there’s a constant debate at camp as to weather it’s still the same cabin.

cabin exterior

• the cabin has an industrial look, with a mix of metals like iron, copper, and steel. rivets, bolts, and exposed beams are prominent features.

• life-sized metal automatons, resembling ancient greek warriors and mythical creatures, stand guard at the entrance.

• they have created intricate metal sculptures that decorate the cabin’s exterior. these range from small, detailed pieces to larger, more abstract art.

• the entrance has large, reinforced double doors, that are automated.

• these doors swing open smoothly despite their weight.

• they have a pulley system for lifting heavy materials, a retractable awning for shade, and a mechanical clock tower that chimes periodically.

cabin interior

• the floor is covered in spare parts and tools that never get picked up (unless somebody wants to use them for something).

• they have underground bunkers for bedrooms.

• the walls are adorned with gears, cogs, and blueprints of various inventions. some of the gears are part of intricate mechanisms that move or serve as storage spaces.

• their cabin has several fire extinguishers and a state-of-the-art ventilation system to manage the smoke and fumes from the forges.

• emergency buttons are strategically placed around the cabin to shut down all machinery in case of accidents.

cabin traditions

• every month they hold a competition to see who can make a device that fits a certain theme.

• they’re judged by a panel of five consisting of the head counselors of hephaestus, athena, hecate, and a volunteer counselor, as well as chiron.

• each judge judges something different on a scale of 1-5: safety and usefulness, ease of use and functionality, utilization of magic, presentation/looks, and on-theme-ness. chiron calculates and delivers the final score, which is the total points given by the counselors.

• the winner receives a medal and bragging rights (until the next competition), as well as first pick when it comes to tools each morning.

• anyone in camp is allowed to participate (though it’s mostly just the hephaestus and athena kids) and contestants have a week to create their contraptions, during which they have access to all the tools and spare materials in the hephaestus workshop (and later bunker 9) that nobody has yet claimed (whether for the competition or not).

• the event is taken very seriously by everyone involved, and even athena and hephaestus have been known to show up from time to time to watch from the shadows, but they always watch from olympus.

divider by @anitalenia

[metanoias-substack]

Modern capitalism needs men who cooperate smoothly and in large numbers; who want to consume more and more; and whose tastes are standardized and can be easily influenced and anticipated. It needs men who feel free and independent, not subject to any authority or principle or conscience — yet willing to be commanded, to do what is expected of them, to fit into the social machine without friction; who can be guided without force, led without leaders, prompted without aim — except the one to make good, to be on the move, to function, to go ahead.

What is the outcome? Modern man is alienated from himself, from his fellow men, and from nature. He has been transformed into a commodity, experiences his life forces as an investment which must bring him the maximum profit obtainable under existing market conditions. Human relations are those of alienated automatons, each basing his security on staying close to the herd, and not being different in thought, feeling or action. While everybody tries to be as close as possible to the rest, everybody remains utterly alone, pervaded by the deep sense of insecurity, anxiety and guilt which always results when human separateness cannot be overcome.

Our civilization offers many palliatives which help people to be consciously unaware of this aloneness: first of all the strict routine of bureaucratized, mechanical work, which helps people to remain unaware of their most fundamental human desires, of the longing for transcendence and unity. Inasmuch the routine alone does not succeed in this, man overcomes his unconscious despair by the routine of amusement, the passive consumption of sounds and sights offered by the amusement industry; furthermore by the satisfaction of buying ever new things, and soon exchanging them for others.

Modern man is actually close to the picture Huxley describes in his Brave New World: well fed, well clad, satisfied sexually, yet without self, without any except the most superficial contact with his fellow man […].

Man's happiness today consists in "having fun". Having fun lies in the satisfaction of consuming and "taking in" commodities, sights, food, drinks, cigarettes, people, lectures, books, movies — all are consumed, swallowed. The world is one great object for our appetite, a big apple, a big bottle, a big breast; we are the sucklers, the eternally expectant ones, the hopeful ones — and the eternally disappointed ones. Our character is geared to exchange and to receive, to barter and to consume; everything, spiritual as well as material objects, becomes an object of exchange and of consumption.

— Erich Fromm, The Art of Loving (1956)

[sw5w]

Sabé and Her Soldiers Join the Fight

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:47:42

[seat-safety-switch]

Ever since Joey Tomassino got put into reconstructive surgery by an errant pepperoni chub, I've been nothing but deeply respectful of the power of pizza. While the incident happened in childhood, it's those formative memories that have a way of sticking with you forever, etched into your very being. For years, my wife would ask why my hair stood on end every time we drove past a Pizza Hut.

In a time long past, pizza delivery was a common teenage job. You'd have a cheap car, cheap gas, cheap insurance, and copious free time to spend shipping baked dough around your suburban neighbourhood. If the occasional accident happened, that's okay, they don't have that much experience driving and they have to make that 30-minutes-or-it's-free guarantee.

Sadly, the era of the cheap car, cheap gas, and cheap insurance has faded, and pizza delivery is now done by a faceless series of automatons that summon a precariously-employed worker from a white-goods industrial kitchen wedged between two Amazon drone-delivery warehouses. Give them five stars, they earned it. They're taking a risk with their own lives, and let me explain why.

When I go pick up my own pizza from the local joint, I always take precautions. Nobody is getting mad at me if I take too long, except for perhaps the hungry folks waiting for it (I can always blame the teenager working the counter.) You might think it's silly to be as careful as I am, buckling up the pizza with its own little seatbelt and wedging a bunch of crap against it.

Have you ever had anything slide off your seat or fly into your windshield from aggressive braking? What if that were dinner? You can't take any chances with it. I must make sure that any hard cornering or sharp acceleration won't redistribute the toppings unfairly. It feels like I still could have done more, like I am taking a gamble on the survival of my family dinner every time I rip the handbrake in the middle of a playground zone.

I am just one person, though, and even the President has been thus incapable of dealing with the spate of third-degree hot cheese burns littering hospitals across this once-great nation-state. Write your representative. Get some action started on making sure that every car has a little thing to put pizza into. For the Joeys of the world.

[khaire-traveler]

🗡️ Subtle Talos Worship 🪨

Collect rocks/crystals you like

Bask in the sunlight (Cretan)

Take a walk/hike on a sunny day (Cretan)

Light a bonfire; sit in front of it; focus on the warmth and life it provides

Collect bronze colored items; wear bronze colored jewelry

Assert your personal boundaries; make it clear when someone has done something that made you uncomfortable

Get a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Make something with your hands; work hard on a project or item you're creating (Cretan)

Stand up for yourself and others; stand up for those you love

Assert your boundaries; make others aware when they upset you or make you uncomfy

Set boundaries for yourself; I'll only give this much support to that person, I won't stay on my phone for hours before bed, I won't engage with this media that always upsets me, etc.

Have a stuffed animal of a creature that you associate with protection, defense, strength, or the sun (sun = Cretan)

Have imagery of bronze robots/automatons, swords, shields, large rocks/boulders, the island of Krete (Crete), the sun (Cretan), Volcanoes (Cretan), or light (Cretan) around

Learn self-defense; carry weapons on you (pepper spray, pocket knife, etc.)

Learn how to properly use a weapon of your choice; sword, bow and arrow, short sword, spear, pocket knife, etc.

Listen to yourself, especially regarding situations/people that your gut tells you are unsafe; your GUT, not your ANXIETY

Get to know yourself better; know that you know yourself better than others

Disregard unconstructive criticism; work on not taking hate personally (easier said than done, I know)

Fall asleep/meditate to the sound of island ocean waves

Try to eat healthy; fruits, veggies, protein, etc.; take care of your physical body

Grow your own produce or herbs (Cretan)

Support local farms; buy their produce (Cretan)

Support farming/food (Cretan) or humanitarian organizations; support homeless shelters

Volunteer at a food bank, soup kitchen, or farm (Cretan)

Take regular breaks from screens; make sure to go outside for some fresh air (Cretan)

Make sure to wear sunscreen on sunny day (Cretan)

Go cloud-watching (Cretan)

Exercise; get movement throughout your day, even just stretching

Visit the beach or nearby body of water; stick your feet into the shallows; try to ground yourself there

Ground yourself regularly; check in with yourself and your body frequently

Own a sword - it'd be so cool if you did

Play a fighting-based video game; choose a supportive/defensive character

On a tough day, be gentle with yourself; eat/drink something comforting, take a shower, get cozy under a blanket, watch a comfort movie, etc.

Stick affirmational/encouraging notes in places you'll see them throughout the day

Make a list of your personal strengths and weaknesses; try to healthily reflect on ways you can better yourself

Drink fruit or vegetable juices (Cretan)

Paint or draw an island; purchase art of an island from an artist

Support local businesses

Get involved with local communities; support groups, gamer groups, neighborhoods, etc.

Leave good tips for those working in the service industry; delivery drivers, waiters, hospitality workers, etc.

Treat service workers with compassion and empathy; they've got it rough

Build a sand castle; give it some cool defenses

Support the less fortunate in your community

Volunteer at a homeless shelter; volunteer within your community

Donate supplies to homeless shelters; hygiene kits are always needed

-

This is my list of discreet ways to worship Talos. There are two versions of him most commonly worshipped - that of mainland Greece and that of the island of Krete itself. Both vary vastly; Krete saw him as a bronze automaton Sun god that fathered Hephaestus, while mainland Greece saw him as a giant bronze automaton assigned to protect Krete by Zeus. I gave suggestions for both versions. I hope y'all find this helpful, and take care! 💚

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[steambot-shenanigans]

The incredible Inky Becile!

She may have been created as a copycat, but that’s not his fault!

Learn more about Becile Industries’ newest hydropower automaton!

Powerful purpose!

Created in 2011 by Becile Industries as a response to Steam Powered Giraffe getting a gig at the San Diego Zoo, Inky was designed to play music at the Birch Aquarium in La Jolla California! We couldn’t let our “friends” at Walter Robotics have all the fun! He was programmed with a love for music and all the creatures of the sea!

Magnificent Magnetism!

His chassis makes good use of electromagnetism and is fully covered in Ferro Fluid, that can be shaped how she wants by changing the strength of the current through certain parts of her plating! His favorite thing to do is shape her arms and head to look more like an octopus or squid! She can form a mouth on her face, but he doesn’t have a jaw, just speakers, so he usually just doesn’t appear to have a mouth at all. The only feature that never changes is a pair of big glowing green photoreceptors that are the cutest and most expressive part of her.

Hydropower!

Due to the magnetization of the ferro fluid decreasing the more the temperature of the paramagnetic material increases, he cannot be powered by steam or coal, due to the heat it generates, so his genius inventor rigged a system to use the green matter to cause water to move and flow perpetually in his core, spinning a rotor to generate the electricity she needs to function! Environmentally friendly AND practical!

Clever Clothing!

Inky knows herself to be of two genders, and as such, uses the pronouns he and she! His only adornment—due to the discomfort of wearing clothes overtop of the gelatin-like ferro fluid—is a snazzy green bow. Masculine bow tie or feminine hair bow? The article can serve both purposes as this bot can maneuver it with ease to where it needs to be using his expertly manipulated ferro fluid coating!

Rocking Repertoire!

Inky the automaton can play and sing a wide variety of songs, all things that have to do with the water and the creatures that live in it! She has a combined programming of covers and songs he wrote himself with his very own composition software! You could find her rocking out on her pretty purple electric guitar, serenely strumming a ukulele, or even striking the keys of a keyboard.

But this tale is a tragic one!

Our innocent little Inky was laid off from his place of employment at the aquarium because of her appearance, which the staff described as “creepy” and “like if venom and kuthulu had a small robot child”, which we here at Becile industries think is very unfair to the poor kid. Everyone who’s gotten a chance to know her has said she is polite, friendly, and energetic! He may not be perfect, but what 13 year old boy/girl is?

You can help!

If you want to help our robot, look for him when he busks around the San Diego area, or if you aren’t local, you can support her and her robot siblings at Becileindustries.com, or check out https://tinyurl.com/InkyInfo-BecileIndustries for more information! And finally, if you just want our correspondent to pass on a message her way, you can message the blog that sent this informational post, and our crew will tell him what you wanted him to hear!

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

(More) Goon of Gotham

The Plant Monster

A hulking behemoth made up of floral matter, the plant monsters were creatures created by Poison Ivy to both do her bidding as an eco-terrorist as well as facilitate her ruse as reformed and little more than an innocent housewife.  Ivy created the monsters genetic material from her former psychiatrist, Dr. Steven Carlyle, mixing it with her botanical science to create an animated plant golem obedient to her will.

Possessing a shortened lifespan, the plant monster appears as a young child in its nascent phase, quickly growing into it more mature form where it appears an exact replica of Dr. Carlyle.  In its final phase, the creature expands into an enormous brute possessing incredible strength and durability.  It can last in this final stage for only a short while before the creature wilts and dies off.  

Ivy grew a number of these creatures.  The saplings pretending to be Carlyle’s two young sons from a previous marriage whom Ivy cared for.  The mature version of the creature posed as Carlyle himself (the real Dr. Carlyle was kept in suspended stasis in a pod-like plant in home’s back yard).  While the lumbering final version of the creature did Ivy’s bidding, destroying polluting industrial facilities and attacking individuals Ivy deemed as responsible for ecological offenses.  

Batman and Robin were initially fooled by these creatures.  The crimes bore all the hallmarks of Poison Ivy.  And yet the Dynamic Duo believed the Carlyle duplicate to be the real thing, thus offering Ivy a rock solid alibi.  It was only after Robin recalled that Dr. Carlyle had two daughters from his past marriage rather than two sons that Batman was able to deduce Ivy must have somehow created her family.  

Utilizing a specialized pesticide spray, Batman and Robin were able to destroy the various Plant Creatures and rescued Dr. Carlyle.  Poison Ivy fled, leaving behind a plant golem in her own form whom the Dynamic Due attempted to apprehend before it too deteriorated into a floral soup. 

Although she had gotten away, Poison Ivy was hugely saddened by the loss of her created family and the peace and tranquility it had offered her.  Having perfected her ability to create floral golems, however, it would not be long before she would return with new sinister schemes to forward her agenda.  

Actors Peter Strauss and Jim Cummings voiced Dr. Carlyle and the Plant Monster respectively.  The creature appeared in the first episode of the second season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘House and Garden.'    

Cynthia

The android known as Cynthia was a ‘synthoid,’ a sophisticated automaton specifically designed to pass as human.  She was customer-designed and ordered by high school student Howard Groote who wanted to use her as a means of earning the attention of the popular girls in his class.  Cynthia was crafted to be a stunningly beautiful young woman, entirely devoted to Howard.  

The plan initially worked and when Howard’s classmates saw that he had such a desirable and dedicated girlfriend it caused many of them to reconsider their attitudes toward him.  Unfortunately, Cynthia’s programming proved quite rigid and she became fiercely jealous toward the girls who paid Howard attention.   

Synthoid’s possessed greatly enhanced strength and durability and Cynthia’s jealous rampage caused a great deal of destruction and put many people at risk.  Batman (Terry McGinnis) interceded and was able to protect those who were in harm.  In the end, Cynthia’s rage toward Howard became so extreme that it caused her central processors to overload and she exploded.   

Actress Shiri Appleby provided the voice for Cythia, with the tragic and possessive sainthood featuring in the thirteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Terry's Friend Dates a Robot.’  

Farmer Brown & Emmylou

Doctor Enoch Brown was a microbiologist and agriculturalist who had developed a way to cause mutagenic growth in animals, which he tried to market as a means to end world hunger.  He presented a ginormous sheep at an agricultural expo which became irritated and ran amuck, resulting in a great deal of property damage.  Brown was arrested and fined a huge fee; furthermore he was court ordered to desist all mutagenic experimentations on livestock.  

An enraged Brown disappeared for several years and eventually reemerged with a plan to gain vengeance and make himself rich.  Aided by his daughter, Emmylou, Farmer Brown created numerous monstrous beasts, including giant cows, pterodactyl-like mutant chickens and enormous mantis-like insects.  He set these animals loose on the streets of Gotham, causing a great deal of chaos.  He then threatened to send even more such monstrosities if the city did not agree to pay him an exorbitant ransom.     

When the Gotham Police Department failed to send the ransom, Brown and his daughter planned on sending a rocket that would deposit hundreds of mutated locusts into the heart of downtown. Gotham  Fortunately the plot was thwarted by the efforts of Batman, Batgirl and Robin.  Farmer Brown and Emmylou were arrested and the animals they had created were sent to a specialized nature reserve.

Actor Peter Breck provided Brown’s drawl with actress Dina Sherman voicing his daughter, Emmylou.  The villainous pair appeared in the second episode of the second season of The New Batman Adventures, ‘Critters.’   

Terminal 

By all outward appearances, Carter Wilson seemed a model student at Hamilton High School.  He had excellent grades, was a star athlete, class president and was quite popular among his peers.  All of his scholastic success, however, was fueled by a cold and overbearing mother that demanded that he be nothing but the best.  

Young Carter cracked under the pressure.  At night he would don a frightening costume and began running with the Jokerz Street Gang.  As a part of the gang, Carter took on the alias of ‘Terminal.’  With his intellect, it was not long before Terminal was leading a gang of his own, a group of Joker goons willing to obey his every whim.   

Carter learned that his classmate, Maxine Gibson, had outperformed him on a standardized test and was likely to beat him out for class valedictorian. Desperate to ensure this would not happen, he used his role as Terminal to put a stop to it.  After failed attempts to alter school records, Terminal planned for his gang to attack Maxine and make it so she could not continue on at school by any means necessary.  

The plot was thwarted by Batman (Terry McGinnis) and Terminal was ultimately unmasked as Carter.  The once promising young man was arrested and sent away for psychiatric care.  Although Batman had succeeded in foiling Terminal’s plan and saving Maxine, the whole ordeal resulted in Maxine being able to successfully surmise Terry’s alter ego as the new Batman.  Fortunately, Max would come to use this information to help the Tomorrow Night and Max would go on to become one of Batman’s most valuable allies.  

Actor Michael Rosenbaum provided the voice for Terminal, with the villain appearing in the eighteenth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Hidden Agenda.’ 

Deputy Commissioner Gil Mason

Dashing Gil Mason was a rising star within the Gotham City Police Department, promoted to deputy commissioner serving under Jim Gordon.  And yet Mason’s success was due to his secretly being an agent of the villainous mob boss known as Harvey ‘Two-Face’ Dent.  Two Face fed Mason information about rival gangs, taking out his competition while augmenting Mason’s reputation in the police department.  

Mason then planted evidence implicating Commissioner Gordon as corrupt and in the pocket of the mobster Rupert Thorne.  Gordon ended up arrested while Mason was named the new commissioner.  

Aided by Barbara Gordon, Batman was able to exonerate Jim Gordon and out Mason as Two-Face’s mole.  Jim Gordon was freed and returned to his post as commissioner whereas Gil Mason perished in a boat explosion while trying to escape.   

Actor Tim Matheson provided the voice for Gil Mason with the corrupt cop first appearing in the first episode of the second season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Shadow of The Bat Part One.’

Payback

A brutal vigilante whop sought out to avenge neglected, mistreated children, Payback terrorized Gotham with little regard to the collateral damage and harm to innocent bystanders his campaign incurred.  Batman set out to take the vigilante and his investigation uncovered that all of the targets had a connection to the Gotham Youth Counseling Center.  

Using Bruce Wayne as bait, Batman was able to draw Payback out and eventually defeated the villain. Payback’s identity was revealed to be young Kenny Stanton, the son of the counseling center’s chief resident.  Kenny had used a bionic suit to appear to be an adult, lashing out toward negligent parents in that he also felt neglected by his own father.  

Actor Adam Wylie provided the voice for Kenny (with Bill Fagerbakke provided the voice of Payback).  The troubled villain appeared in the twenty-fourth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Payback.’  

Baron Waclaw Josek

A smooth talking confidence man, Waclaw Josek presented himself as ‘The Baron,’ posing as a nobleman from somewhere in Eastern Europe.  Fool by his erroneous credentials, relief aid organizations such as the Gotham Foreign-Aid Society would invite him to hold talks over high-priced dinner engagements.  

Batman was aware Josek possessed multiple felony convictions in Europe and that he was a known associate of Josiah Wormwood.  Wormwood had recently stolen a cache of bearer bonds and was planning on selling them to a foreign agent.  Batman intimidated Josek into leaving town and then used his mastery of disguise to pose as Josek as part of plan to coerce Wormwood into giving up the bearer bonds as well as the name of the agent he was contracted to sell them to.   

Actor John Rhys-Davies provided the voice for both Waclaw Josek as well as Bataman whilst impersonating Josek.  The cad appeared in the thirty-first episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘The Cape and Cowl Conspiracy.’

Ratboy

Patrick was born with an unusual appearance. He looked like a rat, which prompted unfriendly kids to call him Ratboy. Tired of being teased, Patrick moved to the sewers, looking for seclusion. There he encountered  a horde of giant man-eating rats.  Strangely, Patrick was taken in by these rats and they would do his bidding.  

Patrick abducted Dana Tan desiring a girlfriend to keep him company. Batman descended into the sewers to rescue Dana and ended up having to battle Patrick and his killer rats.  The fight resulted in an explosion that claimed Patrick’s life although fortunately Batman and Dana were able to escape unharmed.  

Actor Taran Noah Smith provided the voice for Ratboy with the tragic villain featuring in the ninths episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Rats.’  

The Jazzman

James ‘Jimmy’ Peake was a violent mobster who came to Gotham to try to make a name for himself.  With his proclivity to pepper his speech with all manner of musical terms, Peake came to be known as ‘The Jazzman.’

Following a series of brazen and violent capers, Commissioner James Gordon made a point of taking down and arresting Peake.  A sting was sat up but things went awry and a gunfight broke out.  The Batman arrived in time to capture Peake, but in the ensuing chaos an errant bullet had struck Commissioner Gordon.  

Gordon was rushed to emergency surgery whilst Peake was transported to a holding cell as Stonegate Penitentiary.  Peake was certain that Gordon's death would cement him as a major player in the Gotham criminal underworld.  He somehow managed to escape Stonegate and made his way top the hospital to finish Gordon off.

Fortunately, Batman was able to intercept Peake and the cad was returned to jail.  Gordon pulled through and was back on duty after a short recovery.  Peake meanwhile was given a life sentence and spent the remainder of his days incarcerated at Stonegate.  

Actor Brian George provided the voice for Jimmy The Jazzman Peake, with the crook appearing in the thirty-fourth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘I Am The Night.'   

Pierce Chapman

A Gotham socialite and gadfly, Pierce Chapman was close friends with Veronica Vreeland and tended to ride her coattails into the upper crust of high society.  When Veronica fretted over ways of being the talk of the town, Pierce recalled the time a party he had attended had been robbed by The Joker.  The whole affair was ever so exciting and he and Veronica cooked up a scheme to get the recently paroled Penguin to come to their next shindig.  

The Penguin had always wanted to be embraced by high society and he was gleefully excited by Veronica’s interest in him.  Veronica’s friend, Bruce Wayne, warned her that she was playing a dangerous game and that treating The Penguin in this fashion was cruel and reckless.  Yet Pierce disregarded Bruce’s boring advice, noting that the Penguin was ‘not of our kind’ and thus undeserving of such concern.  

Naturally this whole scheme backfired and when The Penguin found out that he was merely being used.  He kidnapped Veronica and demanded that Piece deliver the ransom.  The Penguin had planned to kill both Veronica and Pierce, but the two were saved by the timely arrival of Batman.     

Whether or not Pierce came to learn his lesson remains unknown.  He and Veronica appeared to drift apart and he was not seen at any of her subsequent events and parties.  

Actor Sam McMurray provided the voice for Pierce Chapman, with the snobbish goon appearing in the forty-seventh episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Birds of A Feather.’

[muzzleroars]

Thinking about it...

The humans in ultrakill wouldn't have had a personal home microwave, or at least in the way that we know it because that was invented in the 1950s to humanely heat hamsters.

They probably wouldn't even have had industrial microwaves used in large commerical kitchens, since the food-heating properties of microwaves wasn't realised until the 1940s, somewhere around the end of WW2, by someone who was working on one of the brand new military radars (and dealing with unshielded microwaves) when he realised a food bar he had in his back pocket was melted.

I highly doubt when you're in the middle of a bloody and horrid war, that when you're working on an unshielded radar dish and you realise that your snack has melted, you will stop the work you're doing and go run off and make a microwave oven.

Or maybe you would, idk, it's 5am and I'm tired but not enough to sleep.

NO IT'S AN INTERESTING POINT!! i love thinking about the alternative history here, how different technology is and what humans must have prioritized in comparison to us. like i mentioned, i almost wonder if their industrial revolution was based around automatons and how, since ww1, they never had any peace time to repurpose many of the things developed for the war. plus, they're living under constant duress and so i doubt they had many luxuries or conveniences. every now and then it could be that technology trickled through to the public sector (whatever that looked like throughout the war) and was worked into home life, but it's likely, especially later into the war, that most people were bound up with it. i would think medical technology went a pretty long way, to help preserve people's ability to work (my idea of v1's creators includes a lot of protective gear and advanced gas/o2 masks, considering their environment), but it's all skewed toward a destroyed earth....and for less savory applications (i mean. the gutterman's fuel source is pretty incredible despite how macabre it is) but on the flipside is stuff like this!!! did they have microwaves?? tvs???? what did their entertainment look like, and did it stop being produced at some point??? were there personal computers?? likely there was great communication devices like cell phones, but was there internet available to the public??? it really makes you wonder what their lives looked like and how consumed they were with war

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 57

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

What lies underneath in this week’s chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

LAST WARNING FOR THE 🍋 UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader References/Warnings: many snake attribute mentions, asphyxiation play, strapped to a table and examined scientifically, light cutting, bra, boob tugging, knife play, and talk about murder and mutilation

In only a matter of a few days, your apartment had been turned into a command center. With boards that didn’t exist in the real world, you often walked through the floating diorama of the Hidden City whenever you had to go to the kitchen. It had players you had never heard of placed on it for demonstration and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was over nearly every single day to help work out a plan for Donnie to leave his villainous holdings behind. The automaton raised an arsenal of his own screens and it was the first time you got to see the manifestations side by side.

They had the slightest tint change between them and the way they were set up was distinctly them.

You loved your boys dearly.

Not left out of the loop, but unable to actually help, you mostly moved around them as they worked. Unlike other projects, this one had no time limit and needed to be done right. They’d entered a strategy session for the long haul and you were a bystander as they talked about industries that both existed here and were things that sounded like fairy tales.

You didn’t bother asking questions, but S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. often folded you in for the sake of it. He told tall tales of a city he retreated to once a year when Donnie got sick. It brought up the fact that Donnie had yet to catch something this year and came with teasing if Donnie so much as blinked funny. He chided right back, haughty about his health, and held you close as he pinned things to a board that grew by the day.

You picked up the slack where you could. Donnie was doing triple duty between his work from home villainy, his lab duties, and now planning the toppling of his own empire. With only so many hours in the day, it encroached on your time with him and you could see the guilt in him each time you passed. You always affectionately played it off and whispered of things yet to come when he was being particularly stubborn. You had easy fodder what with the baby conversation on top of his mistaken declaration of love. It meant a proposal was technically on the table though you knew he still wanted to announce his love properly.

Each little reassurance pulled eager churrs from him and seemed to reignite his passion in this project. In his element in a similar, but different way, he planned with a meticulousness that you thought must be done for those building detonations in urban areas. Not a single mistake could be made when the tiniest error meant an adjacent building would be caught in the crossfire. With time, he would be able to eradicate everything in a moment with only smoke in its wake and you standing unscathed.

It was that level of care that kept this from being a fixating period for him. As much as he wanted to free himself of his evil binds, it was those same shackles that gave him perspective. If the life he wanted was a simplified one with you then he needed to do this right. You didn’t believe there was only one shot and Donnie hadn’t spoken of it that way, but there was a sort of knowledge base that would be kicked off. He’d mentioned before something about information being key and, as such, if word got out early of his plans to evacuate, there would be plotting from various factions.

Words were tossed out like ‘power vacuum’ and you’d edged closer to him not out of fear, but of uncertainty. With each passing moment it was becoming more and more apparent just how downplayed you’d considered his villainy. Even if he’d been vague for your safety, he’d be upfront. No matter how  persistent he’d been in how bad he was, it had all been nothing but words without context. Now seeing the reach of his empire and knowing this was the paltry version where he’d already taken a backseat role made you feel especially ignorant.

Illegal mining rights, arms dealing, illicit substances, territory control, businesses squeezed, exchanges with other players, unlawful animal trade, mystic counterfeiting, and the movement of more unsanctioned goods then you could keep track of, Donnie had been right that he was a new type of creature. His tendrils slid and rooted themselves in nearly every edge of the Hidden City with only Big Mama as a true competitor.

“You built this in a decade.” You were perched on the back of the couch with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. sat on the ground between your legs.

Donnie paused where he was moving a digital page on the board. “I consider them by industry. I built up the weaponry sect in only a couple years and have maintained that position since.”

“I guess that’s the power of young blood?” You glanced at a color coded screen that showed Donnie’s holding at about a quarter of the city.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. lazily tugged your legs so your calves dangled over his chest. “Who’s the old blood?” 

“I’m not riding on your shoulders! The ceiling is too short.” You knocked on his metal head.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. pouted loudly and turned his head up. “No fun!”

“Yeah, hitting my head isn’t fun.” You continued to rap him with your knuckles.

“Are you referring to Big Mama?” Donnie turned and sent a warning look at his son.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. winked at it with a little flourishing star in his display

“Yeah. Sounds like she’s Splinter’s age, right?”

The other two parties stilled and, since S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was closer, you tugged on his triangular head.

“What?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. glanced away and back. “Estimates have Big Mama at… thousands of years old.”

You blinked once before slowly turning up to Donnie for confirmation.

Your boyfriend gave a tight nod.

“You said she was getting old.”

“She acts like it. Compared to her legends.” Donnie rotated and you could tell he was looking hard at an image of her on the board.

It was the first time you had seen her and she looked like a relatively innocuous if not posh older woman. “Donnie?”

“Yes?” He refused to give you his eye.

He could sense it coming. “How old is Draxum?”

Donnie was quiet and you looked down to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

“He’s vague, but based on the events he’s described, I would guess several hundred years.” Your son stared up at you and you loosened the death grip you had on him.

“Is that… old?”

“He’s probably middle aged.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. stared up openly.

“I guess… I guess that makes sense. They’re considered timeless creatures. Stuff from legends don’t have human life spans… You said that Empyrean probably gave yokai powers and that is the stuff that made the mutagen work…”

Donnie stepped closer to the board and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. squirmed at the change in air beneath you.

“What… Donnie, what is your life expectancy?”

Donnie stood still until an anxious bounce of his leg brought him around. “What can we compare it to? The other mutants affected seem to be aging at regular rates, but they weren’t mutated like I was. I was entrenched in a vat. I was patient zero. The injected or bitten versions don’t appear to have the same results. Even that… that… rat wasn’t mutated in the same way. He-!”

Caught between data and rage, Donnie did a rounding pivot and took a few steps to cool down.

“He’s still growing.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. spoke softly.

You looked down at him in question. “Who?”

“Dad.”

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.” Donnie threw a bitter gaze from across the room.

This time you took S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s head in a gentle way to show him that this was you overriding Donnie’s threat. “Shelly, what are you saying?”

“That dad hit puberty at a typical human age, but then continued to grow throughout his 20s and still now.”

You looked up only in time for Donnie to look away. “You’ll… get taller? How is that…?”

“They all are.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. added. “It seems to have slowed though. Projections say a few more inches are probable.”

“Donnie, how long will you live?” You felt S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. reach up and hold your wrist reassuringly.

“I was submerged in an Empyrean mixture!” Donnie turned his head only enough where you saw a glint of his teeth as he bit down on the shout.

Since he was in your hands, you felt the moment S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. looked over to Donnie to assess. “A couple hundred years at least.”

Your fingers twitched away from the automaton.

“It won’t matter.” Donnie turned and approached with terror ripped across his features.

Your expression broke and before you could question how, he stood in front of you.

“It won’t.” Your mate stared into your eyes before dropping his gaze to his son. “It won’t…”

You followed to see the exchange to find S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. returning a sad and sympathetic gaze.

“Shelly…” You gave a light pressure to coax him up.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. looked at you similarly withheld. “Yeah?”

“You’ll outlive us, won’t you?”

The automaton shifted his gaze. “I guess you could say I’m still growing too. My programming is adaptive and with the way tech is going, I haven’t like, calculated a point I can’t reach.”

“Don-”

Donnie gave his mating call and while it was still echoing in your ears he threaded himself through S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to cradle your head.

He wanted your full attention.

“I have considered many options. All which you would despise. I-!” He gave a shaky breath.

You touched Donnie’s pectoral scutes at nearly the same time S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. laid a reassuring hand on his father’s leg.

Donnie wilted under the combined support and hung his head to a degree. “Don’t ask me. I beg you. Under no circumstance. I won’t be able to deny you. Don’t ask.”

For you to be mutated or for him to carry on after you’re gone?

 The answer seemed to be any, all, and in-between.

“Please.” He choked.

You signaled to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. with a twitch of your leg that you were going to get up and Donnie came away miserable at your failure to respond. You stood only for a moment, before dropping down beside S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and catching Donnie’s hand. You pulled your partner down with you where he came stumbling and sat between the pair before wrangling them both in with arms around their necks. They both had to accommodate your height, but you soon had both of your boys pulled close. They settled into the position, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. more so since he didn’t have a resistant musculature to contend with, and you had one man to each cheek. “We’re us. I don’t want that any other way. No changing for one another. We’re us first and foremost.”

You felt the weight lift off Donnie’s shoulders because the heft of his body hit you.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. alternatively stiffened. “Uh…”

You let Donnie’s head fall to your shoulder so you could turn toward the automaton. “What’s up?”  

“I already changed for you…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. grew pixel tears in the edges of his large eyes.

You looked at him with some mirth. “Did you change for me or did you think of a new way you wanted for yourself after meeting me?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. made his blinks bright and obvious.

You tilted your head so it laid on top of Donnie’s.

Your partner gave off a certain smug aura as he knew what you were getting at.

“Stop.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s gaze lit up hot. “You didn’t! Did you…? Dude, you dad’ed me! You hypno’ed me! That effect of people seeing themselves as more after you talk to them! What?!”

Flooded with excitement, he shot from your arms and had to bounce.

“Dad! Dad! Did you see?!”

“According to Mikey, I might have Leo’ed you too.” You added confidently.

Donnie’s head shot up so he could bore a hard gaze into you.

“What’d you do to him?” In a whirl of electronics, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. came to approximately kneel in front of you.

“I don’t actually know…” You glanced out of the corner of your eye to hopefully fend off your boyfriend. “Mikey only said he’s been really introspective since I yelled at him at the gym that one day.”

“You wrecked him! How do you do that!?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. leaned forward into your space with bright eyes.

You put a hand on his head to both calm him and stroke his enthusiasm. “I’m not doing anything. All of you are doing the work. I mean look at you. You were terrified of Donnie when I met you.”

“And… I stood up to him…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s vision flicked to his dad.

“You’ve done well.” Donnie remarked.

You watched S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s systems freeze before an actual spark shot out of the side of his head.

You tugged your hand away and, in a whoosh of air, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shot upward and into the air.

“DON’T!!!” Donnie roared beside you, but it was too late.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. came down from several feet and cracked right through the floor. “Oh shi-!”

“I take it back!” Donnie growled, flew to his feet, and hoisted S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. straight up out of his hole in case it further caved in. “You never think for even a moment! Your programming is wasted! You irritating little-!” 

 “Am I getting picked up right now?!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. quacked and threw his arms out. “Y/N!!”

“This is not fun!” Donnie flung S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. sideways with the intent to put him down away from the damage.

Upon soaring through the air, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. tittered with so much excitement that he left his body.

With an empty metal husk in his arms, Donnie turned to snarl at his system. “Get back here!”

A zip of magenta through the many digital screens, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. returned to his frame and used Donnie’s darting eye to escape towards the door.

“GET BACK HERE!!!” Donnie gave chase.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hit the hallway with Donnie hot on his heels.

You reached up and dragged your hands down your cheeks. “Forgot his disguise.”

Standing and looking at the crater that didn’t quite reach the apartment below, you shook your head knowing they’d both realize it as soon as they hit the street.

Sure enough, both parties returned in dampened but similar states within a few minutes. You sat waiting by the hole with your arms folded and Donnie relented first with a sigh. A saw attachment appeared out of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s back which he used to cut the hole clean and Donnie ordered some supplies to fix the cavity before end of day.

Calming down in various states, you all didn’t necessarily drop the age subject, but it hung up easily on the emotional wall as something to keep in mind. Peace to be had with it, there was eventually a return to the board and task at hand. Some more information dispersed and scenarios run, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. took the delivered materials and fixed the floor himself before sitting back and pretended to wipe his brow where the floor looked like it had never been damaged.

You had to squat down to study it.

“Monday, I’ll have whittled down the list and we can begin to examine my replacement candidates thoroughly.” Donnie spoke with still some very latent bitterness to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

“Sounds good. Surveillance is ready to be tapped. Did you see the new one I pushed to the top of the pile?”

“The salamander?” Donnie cocked his head.

“Yeah.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. rose and pretended to stretch out his arms.

“We’ll see.” Donnie turned up his beak.

“He dismisses young ones.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. told you as if you had any idea what was going on in the conversation.

Donnie looked over his son coolly.

“When he was one?” You shared a look with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. before giving Donnie one of your fetching ones.

He didn’t relent and only lowered his lids. “It’s not about youth; it’s about holding. I shall see when I review the file.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hummed snarkily.

“Think you can squeeze in a movie tomorrow? I wanted to show you that one… “ You dropped off where S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was making an obvious grimace. “What?”

“I have plans. There’s a convention in town and I want to see what it’s like to walk around without my disguise. I’m gonna totally win the cosplay contest!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. grinned with an arm behind his head. “That’s why we said Monday.”

“Cheating.” You tutted and bumped him affectionately. “Have fun.”

“I deserve it.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. puffed up and then walked backwards toward the door with thrown out pointed fingers as if he were leaving the stage from a successful concert. “See y’all lates!”

Donnie gave him a parting nod and you waved him off down the hall before closing up the door. “So…”

From where he was over by his desk, Donnie shifted his posture to evaluate you.

“Just you and me tomorrow?”

“You, I, files, and chores.” He smirked.

“True romance.” You approached and held out your hands in a show.

He took you into a hug and pressed his beak to your hairline. “I won’t let time keep us apart.”

“I knew you were still thinking of that.” You mumbled into him.

“Hard pressed to forget, but I will attempt to take your words to heart.” He leaned away enough to show you his open expression.

You leaned up on the tips of your toes to give him a soft peck.

He smiled against your lips and you moved together to make dinner.

Going through the evening and into the next day, everything was the new business as usual. Donnie had many tasks that he worked through at a certain leisure. You had his attention when you wanted and with the same offered in return, you both went about your day. Just before lunch you headed out to Old Lady Nagami’s to pick up dry cleaning.  While you’d forced Donnie to relent on most of your clothes, he refused to let even a single of his items go anywhere else but into her hands. It meant weekly or so trips which you attended when you could.

You weren’t sure if Donnie liked you coming or not, but the trips usually panned out in the same way. Old Lady Nagami’s nephew manned the front counter, but as soon as you entered she would tear through the shop to yell at him until he left. Then she’d coo over you and how you needed to whip Donnie more into shape because you were already doing a good job. Donnie took everything in stride and as the nephew got his clothes, Donnie and Old Lady Nagami would talk tangential shop. You always listened to their coded messages and sometimes Donnie would decipher them afterwards. Today though, you slipped in the shop with the usual bell only to find the lady already sitting at the front desk with narrowed eyes.

Donnie didn’t slow, but took in an irritated aura as he approached. “What do you know?”

Nagami glanced at you and back. “There will be repercussions.”

Donnie’s posture flared threateningly, but you long knew that didn’t work on the old woman. “I asked you a question.”

She ignored him and beckoned you with a finger.

You approached slowly and kept just behind Donnie.

“I still do not know your name.” She told you with an unreadable gaze.

“And you never will.” Donnie was just short of growling.

“How much of him have you come to know?” Her head didn’t tilt, but there was an obvious shift in the shape of her pupil.

“That is not pertinent-!” Your boyfriend’s hand came down to slap the counter.

“Tell me!” She bit through the air, just loud enough to beat the slam and give him some form of attention. “You are pathetic! Obvious! Do you think I would not see your destination? Boring! You give everything up for the first pretty person to turn your way!”

“I don’t pay you to-!”

“Pay me!” She leaned up and forward. It gave you a sense that her true height was something much larger than her current form and, in opening her mouth, you saw her canines lengthen. “Othello, it has been decades! Drop the act for once and listen as you should!!!”

His nostrils flared with fury and you put a hand to his arm.

He only snapped his wrathful gaze down at you.

You stared back up evenly.

In a slight squint of his gaze, he passed the conversation to you.

“Lady Nagami…” You started.

She lowered herself and turned to wait for you.

“What do you know?” In contrast to Donnie’s accusation, you went for open curiosity.

With a shift in the air, you felt a sort of bubble encase the room. Glancing around as it wasn’t anything visual that changed, you turned back to the old woman.

She appraised you and folded her arms on the counter. “I know that my contact at the auction house was bragging about pulling one over on theirs. I know this to be Othello as he was the one who set up the connection.”

Donnie glanced away and stewed.

“I know many a man has been lured away by love. Not one was successful.” She didn’t look at Donnie, but she squinted through her lenses in a way that said she was talking to him. “Sloppy. They rush. They think themselves safe.”

“He knows he won’t be.” You didn’t argue, but commented.

“Does he?” She raised a brow. “Don’t they all?”

You let the comment sit before rounding your partner and placed your hands in a show of fealty on the counter. “What do you recommend?”

She smiled with a sage’s whip and looked over you affectionately. “I have always liked this one.”

You nodded a form of thanks.

“You’ll use your plans.” She finally looked at Donnie. “You’re making them now?”

Donnie gave a curt nod.

“I know by coincidence, but by tide, the information has not reached the heads, either council or underground.”

He took the information with closed eyes.

You read it as something soothing.

“Will you keep me?” She tilted her head and her glasses chain sparkled.

Donnie swept his gaze to her and hesitated his distaste on crinkled lips. “You have… held up your side of the agreement.”

“You’ve kept my pockets lined, sent me business, and kept my dealings appropriately quiet.”

“Your little gang has dwindled.” Instead of looking down his beak at her, he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“Kids.” She curled her lips. “They do not want old business. Too hungry. Know no stability. Sound familiar?”

“I detest how you laud your age over me.” He finally turned toward her with a glint of his teeth.

“What am I, if not wise in years?” She returned it with one of her own and you saw her teeth were now long and snake-like fangs.

“Yet you can’t keep your own family in line.” He shifted his body, resisting to throw an open threat.

“I force them! Why? So I can watch what I have built crumble? I rather it die with me.” She shrugged openly.

Donnie watched dully. “What do you want?”

“I want to see you be the first.”

Not surprise, but something similar, he only showed it with the faintest shift in his lids.

“To… successfully get away with love?” You stepped in, wary of both parties.

Donnie’s shoulders rose with displeasure and Nagami’s grin split much wider than any human’s should.

“I have often wished you were my son. You would have brought our family great power.” Nagami spoke casually, but it appeared to be something revealing as Donnie’s gaze shot away.

“Too alone. Your downfall. Mystery and by my hand you have lived this long.” Her head rolled one way then another in a snake’s display of attentive interest. “I hate to see my work go to waste if I can help it.”

You tapped the counter where you were still holding it. “You’ve… dismissed your own family, but think you can help… Othello?”

“Yes.” She slid a hand forward and covered yours with hers. “If not this moment, soon. He will see the advantage.”

Donnie scoffed softly.

“Who else will clean your clothes?” She tilted her head, amused.

That brought Donnie’s eye.

“My demands are simple. No change here.” She lifted a free hand and pointed a digit down into the counter. “You pay, I supply. Clothes, medical, the same.”

“What else?” He eyed her.

“You do not let this one die.” She squeezed your hand and glared at Donnie with growing disdain.

“Don’t act as if I would think otherwise!” He frothed.

“You have never considered anyone other than yourself! You only grow on me because I did not scrape you off the side of my shoe!”

“You are the one kept!” Donnie pressed flat against your back to snarl at the woman. “You said so yourself! I nearly collapsed your pathetic gang overnight when you tried to blackmail me or does your ancient memory fail you!?”

She coolly flicked her eyes over him. “You will not succeed. Too hot under the collar. Shame.”

“Manipulation? Still?” Donnie lips parted for a bitter breath. “You are nothing.”

She turned and walked back, grabbing a tied bunch of Donnie’s clothes where they sat in plastic and hangers. She then brought them over and hung them on a bar. “$187.59.”

You looked between them in dismay as Donnie paid.

He grabbed the wad of hangers and turned to leave.

You hung behind and looked over the old woman helplessly.

Her face otherwise neutral, one of her eyebrows cocked the faintest amount.

Donnie cleared his throat by the door.

You studied her and turned to follow.

If not this moment, soon.

She was planting seeds.

It felt like an echo of the Donnie you had originally met.

He was one that had to come to decisions on his own.

Exiting into the alley and walking out to where the car was parked, you trailed behind him and wondered if he knew that was her plan.

They had a long standing business relationship so you had a sense he probably did.

The door to the vehicle opened as soon as it came into sight. You slipped into the back first and Donnie followed, hanging his clothes on a hook just for them. He closed the door and the car took off with a slow lurch.

You waited a few blocks before quietly addressing him. “You okay?”

“Never reached a point where someone didn’t look down at me…”

Lightly running a thumb over a nail, you gave a half-hearted smile. “Don’t think anyone does.”

Donnie breathed a sort of bitter agreement.

Your gaze softened. “When you say it like that it sounds like your life is over.”

“One is.” He stared hard out the window.

“I disagree.” You turn to study his profile.

He gave an obvious shrug for you to see.

You prodded a fold of his jacket breaching the gap between you.

“Say it.”

“Think she’s right?”

One large blink said that wasn’t the question he expected and he turned to look at you. “No.”

You leaned your head against the headrest to watch him.

“No.” He affirmed harder.

“What was her gang like?”

Another misdirect he couldn’t calculate, he studied you.

“Like typical drug kingpin or…?”

“Medical.”

Your gaze darted around the cabin. “How…?”

Donnie settled, but kept examining you. “Disgraced in the Hidden City, she moved her family over in the 80s and took advantage of a wave of Eastern medicine. Using botched mysticism, she both healed and poisoned masses with her clinic as seemingly the only respite.”

“Oh…”

Donnie nodded lightly. “The younger generations that grew up here took to doctorates and found the actual rigging of the US medical system to be more advantageous.”

“The nephew?”

“The only one that didn’t make it through school.” Donnie gave a sort of smile.

“Are you letting her in on the plan?”

You watched relief pour over your partner as that was the question he’d been waiting for. “I’ll hold out until my next drop off.”

“You think she can help?”

“I think she chose her words too well and is targeting my weak spot.”

“You don’t want to chance what she said coming true.”

He sharpened his gaze to translate you’d gotten it right.

“Most of the villain’s I’ve met have been pretty nice to me. I have no idea what to think…” You shook your head. “I trust you.”

He hummed and reached out to lay his hand besides yours.

You touched your pinky to his thumb.

A faint churr rolled out of him.

“This time… What you’re doing I mean, it feels… different. Like how you’re taking your time. You’re usually so sure and jump as soon as you are, but now…?”

Donnie nodded. “No mistakes. No obsession. No rush. Done right.”

“Is this still what you want?” You look toward him under your lashes and raised them up to catch honesty.

He watched the move with affection. “Very much so. Every time I look at you.”

You snagged his fingers.

He squeezed your hand and you sat in a comfortable silence on the way home. Dropped off outside the apartment, Donnie slung his dry cleaning over his shoulder and followed you as you led up to the apartment. Out on your floor and inside, you could tell his mind was kicking into gear now that Nagami was in the mix. You offered to take his laundry and he pecked you gratefully on the cheek before heading to translate the new information to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

Pinning the canopy of the bed back, you laid out the many bags and went through the soothing process of taking the covers off the dry cleaning. You carefully removed the plastic and took each item off its sticky hanger one by one. Laying them out at first, you then set aside the different piles and took to folding what was necessary and hanging the rest on their proper hangers.

Humming not a tune, but a tone as you hoisted up a folded pile for the dresser, you walked over to it and jimmied a drawer open with a full load. The top sweater slipping, you shifted down to a knee to correct the load and set the stack on top of your thigh to adjust. Getting the pile upright, you trailed up to the correct drawer with a finger lining the way and tucked your fingers under the handle. Pulling it out, you went back to the load, teetering in your strange pose. It brought a hand down to the ground to stabilize and you heard an audible click.

Blinking, you stared over the dresser and didn’t see anything so figured a button or something must have gotten stuck in Donnie’s clothes. You’d look for it in a moment, but putting the clean laundry was the priority. A few swipes had them placed and you inched backwards on your knees to close the drawer and look. The immediate area showed little and you placed a flat hand against the dresser to stabilize yourself as you bent over to look underneath the furniture.

As soon as you did, a purple light emanated from there.

Staring dully at how the dresser now resembled a spaceship, you scooted further away and watched as a panel drop flush with the ground. Retreating on instinct, it at first looked like another drawer until it began to push itself outward. Nearly silent through the whole process, you were eventually presented with a case.

A metal container, the side facing you had a fake wood panel to match the dresser. Following along the edge, you found a hinge running all the way around, but no opening closure. From the many layers of protection around it, you squinted against the wood part and whispered.

“Darling Protocol Open.”

The wood shifted and you wished you had touched it before because it clearly wasn’t the material you thought it was. In a reconfiguration, it manifested a handle much like the ones on the dresser and you grabbed hold of it. Also metal, though cleverly painted, you lifted up and the case opened. Lined with a soft purple glow that reminded you of a UV light, inside was a black mass and little fixtures. Digging into the fabric you bumped something large and flat placed over the surface and got a hold of that first. Lifting it where it had been laid upside-down, you found it to be Donnie’s villain costume mask.

Your eyes widened at it before you scoured into the fabric with a tug to reveal a purple pinstripe that you knew went down the front of his suit.

You sat back on your haunches and held the mask loosely in your hand.

It seemed weirdly apropos for you to find it now.

Looking over the mask while you were still dumbfounded, you studied the shape of it. You had once wondered how it fit his beak and seeing it now, up close, it made even less sense. It was barely concave in nature and looked more like a dinner plate with large protrusions for those glowing goggles.  Holding it up to your own face, there was no room for your nose and you dropped the piece down to your lap while thinking.

You weren’t sure now was the time for this.

Even if you had come upon his costume’s location by some sort of kismet accident, Donnie was in a transitional phase and something about it seemed wrong to ask him about. Sort of like picking a healing scab, you figured talking to him about it later might be better and went to put the mask back. Finding the placement of it was so the case could close, you shut the thing, and pushed it back towards the dresser.

It was the slightest bit ajar and no longer fit underneath.

You chided yourself silly and shook your head. “Sorry, Darling Protocol Close.”

The case did nothing.

You pushed down harder on it, sure you’d put everything pretty much back in place.

“Close.”

You tilted your body to the side and saw the hinge line where it was no longer laying flush with itself. Pouting, you tugged the thing back open and fluffed the contents before smashing them back down. They again seemed flat and you closed the case a second time only to still find the same crack.

“Shut. Bolt. Lock. Disengage. I don’t know!” You hissed a sharp whisper to the object and stared at the handle still sitting there.

You tapped the object, remembering how there hadn’t been a handle before you asked for it.

“You…” You narrowed your gaze at the offensive jut of metal. “Go away. Dematerialize. Stop.”

It stayed just as it was and you hung your head over the case in dismay.

The forces at be really wanted you to discuss this then.

Sighing, you opened the case back up and plucked the mask. Two birds, one stone, you carried the object with you over to where Donnie was in front of the big digital bulletin board. A little S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. icon was moving around the screen and writing data where Donnie was clearly absorbed reading and responding.

“Uh… Hey, Don…?” You felt bashful and shifted the mask between nervous fingers.

“Hm?” He didn’t look and moved an image as it popped up.

“I… sort of found something… and I can’t… put it away…” You held up the mask, goggles facing him, at the ready.

“Dry clean-?” He turned casually to address you when his expression plummeted. “How…?”

“I don’t know…” You lifted the mask to hide your shame. “I was just putting your sweaters away and… was there like some sort of code? On the dresser…?”

“Yes…” He eyed you carefully before taking the mask.

You watched him look it over with a sharp gaze.

Just as quickly as he scrutinized, it fell to neutral and then shifted to a sort of smile where he shook his head. “If anyone would find it…” 

“My thoughts exactly…” You chuckled. “I’m sorry…”

“No…” He gave a metered sigh. “Quite alright. I’ll shut it.”

“S-sure!” You bobbed to attention.

He gave you a bored glance at your obvious hesitation and waited.

“I just… always wondered.” You held your hand up like a muzzle. “How does it… it makes your snout disappear?”

He dropped out his dry gaze for one of affection. “You need only ask.”

You grinned at him feeling settled.

He looked you over appropriately before turning his head in demonstration. “By design, it’s meant for anonymity.” He held the mask up to his face and you watched it adjust, almost reaching for him. He placed it on and it shifted for a bowed curve instead of over his beak distinctly.

You touched his arm to lean in close and could see him looking out the corner of his goggles at you. “Huh…”

He turned to face you and you saw his face looked only like a black abyss with two round holes.

“How does it do that?” You reached up and touched to find the mask was indeed there even if you couldn’t see it.

“It’s the paint. It absorbs all light.”

“Wow…” You smiled and ran your fingers to the edge. “With the hood it works really well.”

Donnie nodded. “There’s lights in the hood to further shroud me.”

“There are?” You perked up. “I only remember the eyes.”

“A prominent feature.”

You looked down momentarily nervous before sending your desire up to him. “Would you show me?”

He stared down at you evenly before his lids creased. “Of course.”

You chewed your lip as he rounded you and you followed. “Is this… weird? With you leaving it behind and all?”

“I’m not sure.” He spoke honestly and approached the case you’d left open.

“I’ve always been interested.” You admitted, following the trend.

He crouched enough to grab the jumpsuit and stood straighter, studying the fabric. “I know you have…”

You drew close and he looked you over.

You imagined he probably wanted something similar, but you only gawked at his head.

“It really just hangs off your face.”

He chuckled and reached up to remove it with one big hand. “Try it on.”

“I held it up before and nothing happened…”

He shook the jumpsuit out and unzipped it to step in. “Try now.”

“Since you know?” You held the mask up to your face.

“It could be voice activated.”

“Then why couldn’t I close the case?!” You huffed and felt the tech in the mask shift as it got close to your skin. Nerves high, you brought it until it brushed your nose and it gently reconfigured. Something akin to a soft brush, it molded itself to your skin and bowed around your nose giving you room to breath. You also felt it shrink down where it exceeded your facial structure to fit you like a glove. You let go marveling at Donnie through the goggles and felt how the mask just barely clung to your skin in a comfortable hold. “This is wild…”

He had the jumpsuit around his waist and was slinging an arm into one side. “Look at you.”

“Turn the lights on.” You cheered lightly.

“Absolutely not.” He shrugged into the sleeves.

You stepped into his space and did the zipper for him. “Rude.”

“Rather not be blinded.”

“You’ve blinded me a few times.” You grouched and set the neckline.

He clucked amused and caught your wrists.

“What?” You frowned even though he couldn’t see it.

“I actually…” He removed your hands and unzipped a few inches before hoisting the hood up from where it was tucked. He then brought the zipper up the rest of the way so the hood was secured inside it.

“Oh, oops…” You removed the mask and passed it to him.

He hummed disinterest and applied it to himself.

You stared at him, hands hovering close and pushed forward to touch his plastron.

He appraised you easily. “Ready?”

You nodded.

You watched as he blinked and the hood lights turned on. A soft purple neon glow from around his head, you immediately reached up into the fabric to feel it. It encroached his face in pure darkness as he described and you felt a plastic sort of quality to the inside of the hood where the light technology was pasted.

“Does it get hot?”

“No.” One of his hands hovered by your waist.

You glanced down at it. “You’re missing the gloves and boots.”  

“Am I?” He turned his hand over and you watched as from the tech gauntlet underneath, a glove manifested as it had the night the other turtle’s ambushed you. Without the same sharpened claws, they instead looked like bulky rubber gloves and you skimmed them to feel their metal coating.

His fingers parted under your touch and, in a shift, you checked his other hand. “Missing one.”

“Got me there.” He leaned with you to look at the case.

Inside there was a compartment for his boots and another tech gauntlet.

You stepped away from him and gathered the former to pass to him.

He applied it to his free wrist and stretched out his arm as the other glove moved into place.

Raking your eyes over him, you gave a coy smile which he took with head tilting interest.

“Oh no…!” You feigned a hand over your mouth in horror. “Furious Fuchsia?! What am I going to do?” 

He turned the lights off so you could watch his lids drop in judgment.

“I know, I know. I’m supposed to be scared…” You trended towards him and traced a strap on his chest. “I never have been though. Maybe the bug eyed thing freaked me out at the time, but it was because there were two scary headlights in an empty alley. If I had seen this, I don’t know… while I was out at night and you were… robbing a bank and I saw you, half lit, without knowing you, I think my first thought would be… cool. How mysterious…”

Tracing a clip that was an obvious Donatello ‘D,’ your partner was silent so you looked up to see why.

Nearly the size of his goggles, he was staring down at you in astonishment.

You took him in with your own form before lowering your lids.

“You know I’m telling the truth, don’t you?”

He gave a slow nod before his gaze shifted to an appreciative one.

“What are you imagining?” You leaned into him sweetly.

“Meeting you like that, a true villain and my first prey to not immediately run. You glimpsed me in the act, you think I would let you go?” His shoulders squared and you could sense his preparation.

 “You could easily take me out…” You pressed your hands flat against his pectoral scutes.

“No.” His voice shifted to that deeper pitch he used to disguise his own. “Consider yourself captured.”

“But you don’t capture…” You felt him take your waist. “No victims left alive.”

“True…” He leaned into you and you had no choice, but to bend back in his hold. “You though… What you know… Your knowledge intrigues me…”

You were nearly being dipped as his hold shifted supportive. “Me? I’m just some citizen…”

“You’re no mere resident.” He openly scanned you.

You squirmed a little in his grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Shall we see?”

“See what?”

“If that’s true. If you’re not after more.” This time he did dip you and leaned his mask right into your face. “A trade.”

“Trade?” You felt giddy as he brought you back up with him in a salsa-like maneuver.

“My identity for yours…?” Leading you over to the wall, he trapped you there.

Pushing back hard against the wood, you stared up at him unable to hide your excitement. “My identity…? I would think yours is more important…”

“There it is again.” He leaned into your space. “Your interest in my person.”

“Guess you could call me a fan…” You wished you could kiss him.

“Guess we’ll see if that holds true?” He tipped his head with a question.

You gave a single eager nod.

His gaze dipped and he leaned down as if to kiss you.

Compelled, you pressed your lips to the flat of his mask and heard an explosion of churning metal.

Fluttering your lids open, you found the shoulder pads he’d been missing were now in place along with his cinching metal belt. All parts you now placed as part of his battle shell, the pièce de résistance were the four enormous mechanical arms lazily hooked around you. One atop the dresser and another craning curious around the partition to the living room, the last two settled against the ground, ready to lift Donnie if need be.

You gasped lightly at the sight and Donnie moved.

“Let us reveal then. Bit…” Encased by him, instead of ushering you out of the space, you felt the claw above you slide down the wall’s frame towards yours. There, it inched, testing, around your ankle and you caught his jumpsuit to articulate it was okay for him to proceed. “…by…” The arm wound, gentle, but probing between your legs and continued to spiral upwards. “…bit.”

This was the decadent version compared to the nightmarish one the night of the chase.

This was what you should have done then.

This was a reclamation.

You were so glad you found that case.

Mewling as the arm fastened just under your butt, you lifted off the ground as it coiled around your waist. A comforting constriction, Donnie backward away for more space and the arm from the dresser trailed over to help. It snaked into your grasp, urging you to let go of him and you held onto it as it curled around you. Slithering up your arm and leaving trails of goosebumps behind with the revolving metal texture, it felt like soft scales streaming across your skin.

You breathed in heavy gasps and heat as it wormed up towards your face and the claws extended. Purple poisoned tips, the three sharp fingers extended and touched your cheek. Exceedingly gentle in the comparison to how sharp, they spun slowly in a trace over your lips. All you could think was how they were him. Just as you had confirmed during the last night of his hacking troubles, this was his caress. 

Pushing down on the plump of your bottom lip, your lips parted and you moved your head careful to suck on the claw there.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Donnie’s pupils shift through a layer of glass with wild excitement.

This was completely uncharted territory for him.

You were going to make it beyond worth his while.

Extracting from the claw with a wet pop, you licked your lip. “Bit by bit, huh?”

He tried to roll his churr into an interested noise.

“Then where’s…?” You reached up from the elbow since your biceps were strapped down and cradled the mechanical arm. “… my give?”

“Think you deserve one already?” He stepped in and the other arm coiled a final twist around your neck.

“Do you have me or have I let you?” You smirked down at him and pulled the claw along to give it a delicate kiss.

It switched grip and a single digit lifted your chin. “What a being you are, calling shots in this position. I was right to keep you alive.”

You had another haughty retort on your lips but the tethers restricted. Slow and careful, they tested your windpipe and just barely cut off your oxygen. You writhed looking down at him and saw his gaze was laser focused to catch even the slightest discomfort. It brought a little smile to your lips which you parted as soon as your need to breathe started to become pressing.

The arms loosened and curled around you affectionately. The one in your grasp wriggled as you stroked it down. You were soon lowered to Donnie’s eye level where he judged you with an open cascading of his gaze.

“What do you see?”

“A specimen.” He spoke instantly and reached out to tread a gloved hand across your waist. “You?”

“A new type of creature.”

He stopped and looked at you with waning intent.

A little worried, you dropped the act. “Was that wrong? You okay?”

He shook his head slowly and reached out in time that you were brought into his face. “I adore you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

You reached for him and the arms shot away to give you the full freedom to move. Now swathed around the waist and up toward your back, you took his head careful and coaxed him close. There you kissed into the abyss and landed with your lips against the flat mask. “I quite like you as well Furious Fuchsia.”

Caught, his gaze narrowed and you felt the arm near your neck shifted to pinch curiously at your top. “Give?”

“What did I take?” You kept your hold on him.

“My attention.”

“I’d have said heart.” You looked at him cheekily.

With one curled claw, he shredded a line down the back of your shirt. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You pouted openly and slumped your limbs so the shirt would fall.

One of the claws from the ground came up to toss the fabric away in a fluid motion. “Specimen.”

He had repeated himself with a new tenor.

You searched him curiously before you dropped.

Shifted and turned, you were soon laying horizontally while strapped down to a table made from a bunched coiling of the mechanical arms. Donnie loomed over you, turning his head back and forth to show where his gaze trailed. One of his hands rose, gloves turning into claws and he traced the pinprick edge over the expanse of your exposed torso.

“What pretty skin.”

You tested your binds in a squirm.

Flexing his fingers out, he dug lightly into your side and tested the way your skin relented. “So clean, so soft…”

You made a high pitched sound, tense with the sensation teetering on ticklish.

In a flick as if picking some hardened piece of food off a table, he snapped a digit in and you felt it scrape you.

Your hips lifted lightly with the sting.

He dipped down, looking at that obviously and then flicking his gaze back to yours.

You forced a smile.

His eyes said he returned it and he again spread his claws, this time dragging them with purpose. “I’d like to leave my mark.”

“You don’t leave evidence…” Your body arched as he made disappearing lines over the plain of your stomach.

“Again, how you know me and my work.” He cooed and in a snap, he made a small incision to your arm.

You squeaked at the papercut-like pain and sent a betrayed expression to him.

“Won’t scar, not deep, barely bleeding.” He spoke in his usual tone before turning to the pitched one. “You bleed like the rest.”

“I’m human.”

“I’m not.” He reached for the arm he wounded and pulled it to him. The binding didn’t release, but simply came along with, so he could examine the cut close.

It also showed you that it was exactly how he described with only a single drop of red formed off it.

He wiped it up and it disappeared in the dark color of his glove.

It appeared to be logged because with a roll of his neck, he shifted to ready himself over the project of your body and went to work. Metal palming warm from his skin, he dug and prodded you until you were a writhing mess. He trekked across places exposable in a public sense while pressing pain centers and breaking the skin only enough for surface level scarring. Marring you for him, he moved to snap the fabric of your bra when you least expected it.

Nearly snarling at him incensed, he propped a hand on either side of your head and the table moved so he could lean over you. “You seem upset?”

“F-fuck…” You managed.

“You’ve done well.”

You winced rhythmically as the air stung all the little grazes.

“Want help? Your first give?”

“B-both?” Your heart rate was finally coming down.

He nodded a single time.

“Y-yes…”

Reaching up obviously, he removed his mask.

You tried  to stop him and the binds let you get a certain distance.

He slowed, the cover only partially removed from his face. “Problem?”

“Your… identity…”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I wanted… I wanted you…”

He hitched where you could only see one of his eyes. “I…” His voice warped out of his villainous one. “I don’t know how to proceed. I want to taste you, but this does not shrink in a way that would allow it.”

“Can you black out the goggles?” You moved to sit up and were allowed.

It came with needle pricks from your wounds, but you ignored them to support his arm.

He seemed appreciative and lowered the mask with a strained expression.

“Why impede my vision? This is only meant for me.”

You hummed unsure.

He tapped the cover, thinking, until he flipped it over and studied the goggles. “There are different modes…”

“Yeah?”

“Night vision, UV, mystic energy tracker…”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He chirped an affection and nuzzled close. “I think I’ve got it.”

“I didn’t help at all.”

“You always help.” He tapped a flat finger to your forehead and pushed.

You took the message and laid back down.

He adjusted himself with a flip of his head and put the mask back in its half position along with his voice. “How thoughtful.”

You smile slightly and, in a flash, he put the mask on you.

Blinking at the sudden adjustment, you saw mostly dark blobs until you turned to view him. He sat a radiating hot red form under heat vision. “Oh!”

“Now.” The table righted and he dropped down.

Immediately getting his mouth on you, his tongue was a scathing balm on your wounds. You cried for him, only just barely keeping the sounds generic and not his actual name. He licked flat stripes, catching the braised skin and soothing it where he roved. Less titillating and more clinical, you squirmed under him trying to catch more when you saw two claws lift ominously. A cooler, green refinement, there was just enough definition from their generated heat that you could see the claws as they spun at threatening ready. Not sure where they were going and with Donnie sucking lightly at the cut on your arm, they shot forward and locked onto your breasts.

Cold in comparison, the metal dug into the mounds and, with a rolling press, hard palmed your nipples. The million little joints rolled over the bud and created a wholly new sensation that had you tensing and squeaking out unsure sounds. Donnie slowed, pressing kisses to your belly as he watched his tech push and pull your breasts. Coming away taut with the claws pinching your nipples tight, they tugged hard and pushed the elasticity of your chest to its very limits. It burned with the stretch of skin and then melded it hard back into your torso where the nano pieces rippled a strange sort of lick that had your pitch soaring.

With a final squeezing claw to each breast at large, you imagined it left a pair of three daggered punctures in its wake. The arms then released and were replaced by Donnie’s tongue. A sexual good cop bad cop that was all him, he soothed the pain and held only tenderness as he lapped carefully at the abused buds. Swirling for a suck to clean your wounds, you whimpered for him and strained on the table where the binds were again taut. He traced your arm down to one, tucking a finger in that sharpened to press threateningly at your pulse.

“T-too much!” The phrase popped out and his hand disappeared as soon as it did.

“Apologies.” He whispered softly.

“It’s okay. Choking is one thing, but that was…”

“Right.” His form seemed to nod understandingly.

You relaxed with a twitch.

He came up a glowing blob and peeled back your mask to kiss your cheek. “I would never harm you.”

“I know…” You ghosted up, your hand melded with his shape and felt around until you could squeeze his shoulder through the jumpsuit fabric.

He caught your hand and kissed it as well. “We’ll switch back in a moment for your sake.”

“Done tasting me already?” You chided, feeling calmer.

He lightly bit your digits. “Never enough, but in this case, I want you to watch. No repeats.”

“Repeat of what?” He extracted himself, placed the mask back on you, and appeared to slide over you as if you were a piano.

“That night. I’m going to fuck you with the arms.”

Your body wound with excitement.

The way he pet your stomach said he appreciated the turn. He shifted to a clawed finger and skirted it down your jeans. “Gathering more of you, piece by piece.”

“Pound of flesh.” You hissed lightly as he curved inward between your legs.

“How’s the sight deprivation?”

“Hot.” You smirked even though he couldn’t see it.

“Scoff, puns are the lowest bar of comedy.”

You giggled.

“Hm?” The dagger pushed right into the apex between your legs and, on instinct, you tried to pull away.

The bed of arms raised as a block for your shoulders.

“Something amusing?” He dug it in deeper and you felt the sharp curve of the blade through the thick fabric of your pants.

You gave a breathy whine, unable to form a word.

In a little wiggle, you felt the moment he breached your bottoms as the claw became a sharper shape with only the thin cotton of your underwear as a barrier. “I was haphazard above. I think when I have you next, I will carve you with purpose. Section you off like meat.”

“Are you a villain or serial killer?” His pause gave you a moment to breathe.

“Murdering three or more in a month as separate events…?” He mouthed with curiosity. “I suppose the label fits, but not for pleasure… Well… not in the case it supposes.”

You made a nervous fist and you watched his blob move to catch it.

“Y/N?”

“Have…” You shifted. “Sorry to stop so soon, mask, please.”

He appeared in your vision clearly within the next second. “No apologies. What’s wrong?”

You pushed to sit up and came away easily.

You watched him searching you in a wild darting of his head.

You touched his plastron to catch his focus.

He came and sent it toward your gaze.

“Pleasure…?”

All at once, his face fell into a light hearted one. “Pleasure for the villainy, not for death. Retribution. For cruelty. Not mutilation.”

“You…” Feeling a little too bare up top, you tried to fold your arms, but mechanical ones crept up as soon as you did. You watched them as they slowly formed a sort of tube top and you smiled at them, then Donnie. “You said that thing about picking Mikey apart… when you caved his face in.”

Donnie lips parted with a sort of guilt. “Again, not about death, but that would be mutilation… It’s difficult to explain. In certain states of mania, I derived pleasure from it as a science. I believe I also explained that with the orange oaf I thought I may find what made him tick in the process. I… wanted to understand finally, why…”

You pressed a little harder for support. “I’m ruining the moment.”

“No.” He caught your hand and then shoved his face into yours. “No.”

You couldn’t help pecking the tip of his beak.

“Does that help?”

“Yes, the way you were talking… I had to know… for sure if you had…”

“I’ve killed many, but not in such a way. No saved bodies. No Frakensteinian amalgamations. Not my particular brand of science. I prefer to deal in living.”

In a slow slide and breaking from his grasp, you moved to touch the scute he’d removed for his vivisection.

His expression shifted to a pained one and this time he covered your hand. “May I share what titillated me? Why I shifted to that line of speech?”

“Of course. Finally I get to tell you how silly it is to ask.” You prodded his cheek with your other hand.

He leaned into the digit. “I thought of writing on you. Painting your skin with a brush. Leaving marks as such. Writing my name in the tender flesh of your thigh.”

You squirmed at the thought and your mind’s eye supplied a flurry of images. “I… We need to do that.”

Donnie nodded.

“Tally marks of misdeeds…” You chewed your lip and bounced. “Tenderly filling in the gaps on your carapace…”

He kissed you sweetly.

You melted against him and made out languidly until you nudged him with your nose. “Keep going…”

He nodded once before the mask fell back in place and he repositioned himself just as he had been with the claw against your underwear. 

“There’ll be a next time…?” You added a little too much breath to the statement.

In return, Donnie’s growl sounded a little too playful as he hooked the digit into your right pant leg’s inseam and began to tear downward. Claw dragging your skin the whole way, you felt him scratch a long line until he severed the fabric at the ankle. The peel back felt like a burst casing and he moved to do the same down your left leg. By the end of it you were shifting with need and a seasoning of pain. “Another take, therefore…”

You heard but didn’t comprehend.

The mask lifted from you and bubbling worries came with clarity. “Ah-!”

Only your head could lift and, in doing so, you found the mask was already back with its rightful owner where said villain had a grip on the zipper at his chin.

“Oh…”

His head quirked with what you bet was a smile and he was torturously slow as he dragged it down. Caught by his battle shell, he tugged the fabric hard to reveal until it was trapped by the belt at his waist. “Ah, the downsides of a good suit.”

You listened to his lament with a curling of your toes.

He glanced at the movement and then back to you. “A moment, if you will?”

Not waiting for an answer, he ducked his body and came straight out of his battle shell. In a quick shuffle, he got the top of his jumpsuit off and left it hanging gorgeously at his hips before he stepped back into the straps on his equipment. Locked back in place, it painted him an overheated mechanic still hard at work on a project.

“Suffice?”

“No.”

“No?” He struggled a moment to keep his pitch.

“No more games. I want my due.”

“Your first poor showing.” He tutted with three ticks and the table began to warble.

You steeled yourself and it disintegrated into snakes, weaving and wriggling across your nearly nude frame. Setting your skin aflame where almost every inch of you was licked with metal, he loomed attentive and smug. You panted heavily, getting over stimulated everywhere, but one he knew all too well. Your legs were welded shut as the creeping limbs squeezed your hips and each roll found new flesh to test. Flexing control with circulation cutting restrictions, he assessed every inch of your body until bringing you in close.

“Will you demand anything else?”

You babbled nothing coherent.

“Very good.” A claw caught your throat with two digits and the third pricked your chin. “I’ve seen most of you, but am no closer to your identity.”

You tried to catch a sentence, but you gaped like a fish.

“Huh?” He turned his head for you. “What was that?”

You inhaled with a chance of speaking only for the claws to tighten and cut you off.

He hummed a pity and traced a digit straight down your sternum, over bumps of metal, until he reached your underwear.

You squeaked the barest sound you could manage, head getting light.

“Few more seconds and I’ll reward you…” He studied closely, a sharp digit sliding into your waistband.

Tears leaked and your eyes became more difficult to keep open.

He released.

You gasped greedily and, as you did so, he shredded the last of your clothing in a clean swipe.

Feeling the air on your mons and not your boiling sex you choked. “I-I’ll t-tell you…”

He perked with interest and tested a claw just above your slit. “Not so broken after all, that’s better.”

“No more games and I’ll talk.”

From the way his eyes curved, you knew a smile was splitting his face. “Very good. Very, very good. That’s my intrigue. Push me. Level the playing field.”

“Lonely at the top?”

“Frustratingly so.” He brought your face to his. “You are the first being to ever capture my interest.”

“I’ll be the last.” You put on your best maniac grin.

Even though you could only see two slivers of his face, you watched him short circuit in real time.

“How’d you say it…?” With your arms pinned you could only stroke the mechanical arms within reach by the tips of your fingers. “Very…” You leaned hard against the restraints to get the tiniest bit closer. “Very…” You sucked in a breath and offered your open mouth for him to see. “Good…” You puffed out plumpness with the final word.

Your legs were scissored apart and something feral in your brain had you cackling in an unhinged way.

“Finally, there he is! The villain! My villain!”

The coil around your throat tugged you into his face as he ground his clothed hips into your core. “Yours?!”

“That’s the big secret.” Your cheeks hurt from pressure.

He reached up and you watched his glove retract so he could fiercely grab your head with his bare palm. “What?! Who are you!?”

“Haven’t you realized?” You shifted the frenzy straight into a controlled cuteness with a purse of your lip and a flutter of your lashes. “I’m yours.”

You had little comprehension for what happened next.

The wrap around your throat suctioned tight so fast your vision whited out. Whirling metal swallowed your arms and dragged, pinching every single hair as you were constricted everywhere, but between your legs. Those still split wide wide open, you felt your ankles tug shut behind Donnie’s back and his cock swiped slick over you in three tests before you were skewered.

You were given air just as you were blacking out.

Mouth to mouth, he forced your lungs open to accept him and plowed you in a countercurrent that tried to shove the oxygen back out.

Wheezing on the ebb and flow, he forced pulse after pulse of air in until you animated like a blowup doll. He then retreated to stare a bobbing form in your delirious vision as he refused to stop fucking into you. A pressure crushing deep inside, a metal coiling around your waist tightened to a painful degree until you were able to put together with your rattling brain that it was the only thing moving you. Held as a stroker, you were being pumped up and down his cock and you were the next thing to contract.

A vice on him, he roared possessively and sank his teeth into your mating mark. Renewing your brand, you heard him snort wet as he drank in your life blood. Claws out, he dragged them wanton across your back and he chomped down a second time for a bite that rivaled one from his heat. Crying out in pain and pleasure, you came suddenly and shook violently into it. He ignored it, plowing through the further constriction and unhinging his jaw only to drag bloody lips across your skin. He melded them to your mouth, a contrasting tender to the brutality and you tasted your existence on him. All him, you whimpered, senses blown out, and he shoved his tongue further in as if to gag you there as well.

Releasing suddenly, he tossed himself back and you registered that his mask was long gone. Not knowing when he’d removed it, you seared this face into your memory and watched him doing the same to you. A mental lock on of your fate, you both committed to these versions of yourself and you etched exactly how his beak twitched and brows came together as signals he was close.

The metal arms sped up and you lost sight of him as everything blurred. The needle graphing your orgasm in real time swung wildly back and forth with no true start or end as sensors were mistakenly strapped to your partner. Each pock marked and closest to his veins, they drew the line of his own violation and stroke of his cock. A grinding pump of little thrusts as he grew too large to move, he swelled and the pen snapped the moment he came.

The sudden stop came with vertigo that continued to bob his pinched features until he centered for a falling relief. A method of molding, he stamped his mark into you with semen and scorched his place in your soul. You quaked, feeling strung out and still bound until his legs gave out. No fall thanks to the mechanical arms, they loosened only to hit the ground in a lock and he lurched further against you.

The crush of his pelvis to yours, you made the faintest sound of distress where he was now using you as a podium to keep himself upright.

You imagined he’d give a fine speech as he came up wobbly and feeble.

Eyes unfocused like he was the one just bouncing on what was ten times that of a mechanical bull, you studied him and watched as he drew back into his shell as much as he could.

He surfaced with a type writer’s side to side of his pupil before his brows knit concern.

Twisting with surprise, he tracked over your body with little dashes and you read the code to be the many cuts he’d inflicted.

Moving faster by the second, he lifted higher for a wider camera angle and found the nicks were paired with bruises which trailed to the thick oozing blood from your bite.

Fear shaking his breath, his lips quivered and his pupils looked a similar scribbled mess.

“Don…? Don! What’s happening??” You went to tug at the metal but it shirked away from you as if scared. “Donnie!”

“Too far. I went…!” He was about to stumble away, but you caught the shoulder pads of his battle shell.

“Hey! Are you okay!?”

“W-water! Ban-bandages! I need to-! I need to care! I need-!”

You tugged hard and mistakenly slammed your forehead into his. “Donatello!!!”

“H-huh?” He searched for you in a haze even though you were right in front of him.

“Are you…? I don’t know what’s wrong. You’re crashing...”

“I’m…?” He reached up and touching the skin of your arms made his entire body shiver.

“Woah…”

“Fuck…” He hissed. “It’s… I know… It’s… called…”

You loosened your grip and made a slow show of moving to his shoulders.

Your touch scalded and grounded him at the same time.

“What is it, Sweet?”

“Dom… drop…”

“Drop…?” You metered your pressure and found one that caused his muscles to loosen.

“Too vulnerable…”

“Is this helping? The battle shell?”

He shook his head. “Out. I need out.”

You looked to the ground and as soon as you did, you were lowered to it. “Where are my interface ear pieces?”

“D-desk… You’re not ready…!”

“I don’t care. Hang tight.” Taking the first step was perilous, but motion had you stumbling the few feet to your destination. You found the box on the tidy desk surface and tore it open to get the pieces out. You slid them over your ears and then tapped them a few times in frustration before they came to life. Pivoting and nearly collapsing from the effort, you returned to Donnie and caught hold of his extra tech gauntlet where it had shrunk back down to his wrist.

He could barely turn his limb over before you ripped it off of him and applied it to yourself.

Summoning rage straight from your core, you screamed with all your intention for your mate to be freed. Fingers flexing until veins pushed against your skin and your joints popped, you felt your jaw lock. Your will centered, you stopped breathing and with a final shove, Donnie’s belt snapped open. He fell loose, but you shoved your body as a jack to hold him up at the same time the shoulder pads disengaged with a hiss. The battle shell arms then teetered weak without their usual host and you fumed at them to back off.

They wobbled in complete discoordination, but took a few steps back before you released with what felt like all your energy and they collapsed into a metallic heap.

You panted against Donnie and the force made your brain pulse with pressured pain.

“I got you…” You reassured him though you were in shambles.

He gave a wounded chirp and you looked toward the bed.

“Come on… Almost there… Left foot first…” Having to tell him which to move when, it took an aggravating amount of time to get you to the mattress.

You both collapsed into it, but Donnie immediately curled up into a fetal ball.

You tested his skin lightly and found he could take the pressure before lying on top of him. “I’m here. You did so good. I promise you, my love. Amazing, really. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

 A little protesting whine came from him.

You shushed him. “I’m not lying. It really was. We did it. We fixed that night. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Not…” His head emerged with a shaky breath. “Not like that… please…”

“Let’s say it was the scenario. How about that?” You rubbed his carapace with a heavy spread weight.

He shook his head and hid away again.

“I’m not hurt. I’m okay…”

“That…” His volume rose to free itself from the muffling constraints of his body. “That was the old me. Not me. Not now… That wasn’t…!”

You dug down into his arms to cradle his head, but didn’t force him out. “Was it? Think of all the times you dropped the villain voice. That was you. Every time you checked in. Every time we discussed something. You… You are not meant to be feared. He’s part of you, but that’s not you alone. You’re made of so much more. Not even you of the past was just that. I trust all of you. I want all of you.”

You felt him quiver before he lifted his head enough to peek at you.

You smiled through your exhaustion. “Hi.”

He couldn’t manage the ‘hey’ and instead gave a similar sounding chirp.

You gave him one back.

It unfurled him a bit more where he took a breath that was mostly stable.

“We’re okay…”

He gave one tired nod. “The drop… I got… I am… disoriented.”

“That was real and happened, but I didn’t think it was indicative of some other you…”

He peeped a quiet question.

You stroked his cheek. “I… When I first found the case, I thought something like ‘this isn’t a good time for this,’ but when we started to get into talking about it, all I could think was ‘finally, Donnie can reclaim this part of himself on his terms.’”

The sentence first sat on him before it drew into him like dry soil and the first few drops of rain. It animated the leaves of his green body and he was compelled to search for your sunlight with growing warmth on his features. “On my terms?”

“Mhm.” You nodded in time.

He gave a puffy chuff. “Me?”

“You.”

“When I… want to retire this infuriating purple alliterative?”

“Do it. It was never yours anyway because you didn’t name it.”

Another liquid on his parched soul, this time he caught your face as mirth turned to outright joy. “I never…! I never realized-! You!”

“M-me?” You couldn’t help but return his smile.

“I’m inclined to drop a portion of my genius title. You simply surprise me too often for me to truly retain it.”

“You’re being ridiculous-!” He cut you off by smashing his lips to yours.

A spindly complaint morphed into a little moan as he deepened the maneuver.

“Y/N.” He pulled back and his eyes glistened.

“Yes?” There was something about his gaze that quieted all complaints from your body.

“I love you.”

First your fingers lifted from him then your entire body floated as all of you rose around the real declaration.

“I love you more than anything. You are my heart, my mate, my desire, my everything. I love you.”

You bobbed twice as a revving engine before you tackled him.

It knocked you both over where you giggled too close to the edge of the bed.

Momentum took you over and the thump to the ground only pulled more laughter.

“Wait, wait!” You fought the tangle of limbs to find his face. “Again! Again!”

“Y/N…”

You caught his hand against your cheek and sent him your best pleading eyes.

“I sense a danger…” He spoke hopelessly.

“Well?”

“I love you.” He sighed with pure affection. 

You kissed him and promptly spent the rest of the night asking him to repeat the phrase over and over just to be sure.

NEXT

Never enough love for @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83