#typical turtle behavior | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waitmyturtles · 1 year

Text

Turtles Catches Up With the Essential BLs: Bad Buddy Edition

[The Reasons and Gratitude: While QL has exploded in volume over the last half-decade, I’ve been juggling a career with making and feeding babies. Now that my kids are bigger, I’m catching up on the essential QL dramas. Big ups to @absolutebl’s encyclopedic lists that I use for reference, as well as the recommendations of many dear mutuals. For the Bad Buddy recommendation, I thank my forever darling, @the-nihongo-adventure! Thank you for reading my reviews of shows you’ve already watched! REALLY LONG POST COMING: caveat emptor.]

I’ve been thinking for days on how I should start this review. Bad Buddy has waylaid me with an emotional brutality (in a good way!) that I haven’t been able to shake for weeks. Couple that with a speedy education in the ways of Aof Noppharnach through Moonlight Chicken, and well, my middle-aged heart has taken a lot.

Before I dive in, I’d like to quickly cite the amazing @emotionallychargedtowel, who referenced Murray Bowen’s family systems theory in a post about pursuer-distancer couplings. Family systems theory posits that human behavior is shaped by the structure of the family unit as a complex social system. In other words: through spoken, unspoken, assumed, and expected demands, instincts, boundaries, and pulls/pushes, humans as individuals are conditioned to interact in society vis à vis how they learned to interact with others through their familial upbringings.

Why do I bring this up in regards to Bad Buddy? I haven’t even begun to plummet the sheer depth of analysis about BBS on Tumblr (I’m deeply impressed by the volumes of analysis by my new dear mutual, @telomeke-bbs, whose posts served as wonderful references while I was watching the show), so if I’m repeating popular analysis, I apologize.

But for me, BBS was rooted first and foremost in a study of intergenerational trauma, and how our two UNBELIEVABLE protagonists, Pran and Pat, battled expected roles and boundaries from their families/family systems and friends to end up together.

I know now, through Moonlight Chicken, that Aof is an utter master at layering themes together. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.

And I want to say upfront that while I want to be an objective reviewer of this show, I absolutely cannot be. While I’m thinking about Aof’s mastery of studying intergenerational trauma through the lens of a QL drama, my heart aches, in passionate subjectivity, about how important his work is for young Asians watching it. I only can wish, as a first-generation child of immigrants from South and Southeast Asia, that I had been able to watch these shows when I was growing up. If I had seen Asians making shows about intergenerational trauma through an Asian lens, about very progressive topics like same-sex relationships in Asia -- I would have known that there was a world of support and shared experiences for the kind of intergenerational trauma that I and my friends faced, when we all were growing up, Asian in America and elsewhere.

This was a terribly long introduction to say that while many other themes percolated throughout Bad Buddy (in typical Aof fashion, as I’m now understanding), including school dynamics, Thai queer culture, unrequited love, familial acceptance of same-sex relationships, and more -- that for me, in a very biased way, I HAD to see this show through the lens of intergenerational trauma. This show helped me to have hope that generations of continental and diasporic Asians will be better able to fend off these pressures through the medium of drama art.

So. My thoughts on Bad Buddy are rooted in a lens of intergenerational trauma. But what I also picked up on, vis à vis the boundaries I mentioned earlier emanating out of families as complex social systems -- is that Aof threw in a little (actually a lot) of David Hegel’s thesis-antithesis-synthesis framework as well. This framework allows for the criss-crossing of boundaries to come to a unified resolution -- and good lord, Bad Buddy came to that conclusion so INCREDIBLY well. The Hegelian framework was the means by which, I think, Aof could explore tearing down the deep-rooted effects of intergenerational trauma on the Asian society depicted in BBS.

Throughout the entire show, Pran and Pat danced around boundaries. At least at the start of the show, they never dared to cross the line between the two garbage bins in the front of their houses. These boundaries had been CREATED by Pran’s and Pat’s parents. And the boys were taught from birth -- you cross that line, and bad things will happen. Don’t play with the boy next door. Don’t fall for the kids next door. So: don’t get caught in front of us.

But Pat and Pran crossed the boundaries BEHIND their houses, BEHIND the VERY watchful eyes of their families, starting at a young age, and keeping that boundary-breaking a secret. Pran crossed a significant boundary by saving Pa from drowning.

But then they went to the same university, and new boundaries formed, between their arch-rival faculties. Pat sees that pressure and acts within it, defending his engineering homies against Pran’s architecture friends.

We saw in the first episode that it would be Pat’s family that would be the first to begin breaking those boundaries as adults -- but it wasn’t Pat who began that work. It was Pa.

I’ve always found it interesting that it’s younger siblings who often have the “easiest” time breaking hard-set boundaries and family codes. I know, because I count in that category (and I know this is an overgeneralization, but just roll with me for a sec). Younger siblings see the shit their older counterparts -- parents, sibs, whoever -- create and deal with. And younger sibs then can develop better ways of managing the pressures that come from that shit. Myself included, I’ve often seen younger sibs be the first ones to marry in family units, to have children, to get jobs, to move away from home, etc. Younger siblings often have the ability to say NO more easily than their older family members. It’s, I think, a natural occurrence to take place in a family system of multiple siblings.

So it’s Pa who says to Pat: promise me you won’t hurt Pran. Right off the bat, she asks for a breaking of a boundary that Pat, his parents, and the engineering faculty homies want to uphold. And Pat, being devoted to his sister, agrees to the promise -- and the whole confused dance between him and Pran as adults begins.

I LOVED this. The show needed an immediate impetus to break what could have been a groaning, stereotypical Romeo-and-Romeo paradigm. This wasn’t going to end in mutual suicide -- hell no, not in a Thai BL. This drama needed to go places. As well, for me, I think Pa was set up to be an indirect foil to the pressures that Pran faces later in the series, simply by way of BEING in the form of a younger sibling.

The repeated theme during the first few episodes that I latched onto was Pran saying to Pat, “things don’t end well when I’m close to you.” In episode 1, Pat retorts -- “at least you won’t get transferred this time around.” In episode 4, Pran repeats himself, and guess what happens? He sees Pat with Ink, and experiences the repeated trauma of unintentional rejection at the hands of Pat.

So, Pran feels like he’s learning his lesson, time and time again. He’s thinking -- I like Pat, I can’t help but like Pat. But my parents might be right. Bad things happen when this dude is around. My heart gets broken.

What’s the difference between Pran and Pat here? Pat can exist more carefree, open, instinctual. He can like people more openly. He can be honest with his feelings. WHY? Because he had a family support system while he was growing up that allowed him to take risks -- because he had a sibling, because he was the eldest son -- because he knew, through his family structure, that despite his behavior, that his family would be there for him. He was simply raised differently, in part because his family was slightly bigger, and his family had LESS to lose if they potentially lost Pat to a lifetime of disapproval. Pat can take risks, because he’ll still have Pa, even if he loses his parents.

When I think about Pran, through the lens of intergenerational trauma, I go back to the family systems theory. While I was talking about younger siblings earlier, Pran’s a totally different story. He’s an only child. He IS the BRUNT of the familial pressure to conform to everything his family wants him to be. He was raised that way, and no one can help it, if the family unit is a triad. If Pran disappears from his family because of their disapproval -- not only do they NOT have a son, but Pran HIMSELF doesn’t have a family. He has far more to lose. He feels he can’t take risks.

I am sure there’s reams of analysis about how understandable Pran’s reaction to his first kiss with Pat was. But I took his walk away from Pat to be that recognition. Pran simply could not believe in a future with Pat -- no way. Pran would lose everything he knew.

Hegel’s framework? This is Pran’s thesis: while I love Pat, I can’t have Pat, because if I have Pat, I’m crossing a boundary that should never be crossed. My world will fall apart. I need to walk away and deny that that kiss ever happened.

And what’s the antithesis here? I think, at this moment in the series, the antithesis IS Pat. It’s Pat’s queer revelation, and his ABILITY to just MOVE on his feelings. In just ONE EPISODE, y’all! In episode 5! SO FAST! (Come AWN, Pat, you WINNER, LOVE YOU.) But that’s Pat for you -- Pat, the antithesis of Pran, the guy who can move, because he has less to lose.

(Let me stop for a sec, stop the analyzing. THAT KISS. THE BEST EVER. NANON! OHM! COME AWN! AAAAHHHH!!!!)

So what does Pat do in episodes 6 and 7? He starts the first SYNTHESIS: he crosses that damn boundary and chases after his man. He goes to the zero-waste village, and -- as SO OFTEN happens in Hegelian thesis-based frameworks -- the guys go to the sea, to the water, to cross the water, to kickstart Pran’s antithesis to his life thesis, and to begin their synthesis together, their connection. (Remember Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse and crossing the river, woop woop!)

Like I said before -- not to be a huge fuckin’ nerd or anything, but whoops, too late -- I think the Hegelian framework allowed Aof to WRITE this script and leverage the familial boundary risks for the sake of the show. Because, as I wrote at length in my review of the Cherry Magic movie, taking these risks from the perspective of the Asian family unit is EEEENOOORMOUS. Legit, fam: Asian families WILL dump children. There is disowning. It happens. It’s KNOWN, in the backs of our minds, BAKED UNCONSCIOUSLY into our understanding of who we are as Asian individuals, that our families might give us up, because many of our families have overtly threatened it. Even if there isn’t active disowning, parents can passively judge you and be disappointed in you for the rest of your life, and you damn well know it.

Overgeneralization? Whatever you think. But I’ve experienced it. My friends have experienced it. Kurosawa knew it when he risks disownment to stay with Adachi in the Cherry Magic movie. I severely risked it when I, like, grew up -- when I wanted to date, to get engaged, to get married. I didn’t talk to certain family members for years. My siblings’ relationships were strained. All because I wasn’t falling in line with my family’s expectations for who I needed to be vis à vis THEIR expectations of me -- to stay home and let them dictate how to live my life (literally, not joking).

Instead of doing a typical Romeo-and-Romeo set-up, I think what Aof was doing here, by way of having Pat step out first to begin the boundary-breaking -- and we know now WHY Pat could do that, because of his family system ALLOWING him to be a person to take more risks -- is that he was demonstrating that positive change could happen, the trauma could be stopped, if the guys created family between each other. AOF IS SAYING: I’M GOING TO PROVE THAT THEY CAN STOP THE TRAUMA TOGETHER. I’m crying right now.

And before I get further, another note about Aof’s brilliance. He allowed us to see HOW COMPLICATED Pran is, before the real boundary breaking began. He allowed us to SEE that Pran COULD MAYBE BE OKAY with taking a risk -- vis à vis Pran’s love for music. God, I was SO STRUCK in the scene when Pran is writing the high school song with Pat in episode 5.

I think Pran’s not just talking about love here. I think, indirectly, he’s also talking about the risk of riling his family boundaries up.

(I want to note quickly that both Aof and Jojo Phukhaotong really leverage Nanon’s acting beautifully in these moments -- besides this music scene, there was Pran and Wai in the library talking about relationships and the school play, and in Dirty Laundry, Night meditates on music and love to a sleeping Neon. Nanon really nails this unwinding in his acting.)

I think Aof included these scenes of Pran meditating like this, because Pat couldn’t just hold Pran’s hand at the beach and sweep Pran away. That’s not how the Hegelian framework works. You gotta be ready, to be active, you gotta do the WORK, to reach enlightenment. The entire series shows Pran’s journey to acceptance about himself and about the fate he’ll have with Pat. We, as viewers, needed to see Pran be ready to do that. Sure, he has a forever crush on Pat. But we’ve now established the utterly enormous risks he faced -- more so than Pat ever needed to deal with -- if Pran’s family learned about Pran’s feelings, leanings, and ultimate decision to be with Pat.

We needed to hear, verbally, that Pran’s hesitation was real, that he was balancing in a very complicated way, all the risks he needed to consider. Maybe some people got frustrated at the high level of his complicated feelings, but I think the pace and plot made total sense. And, oh god -- the scene at the beach, where they touch hands and imagine a world where their parents aren’t fighting. Oh my god. AAAAAHHHH. Tears. Synthesis, baby, synthesis.

So then. The boundaries between the guys come down. They start getting kee-yoot. The games in episode 7, the help with the play in episode 8. It’s chef’s kiss, y’all.

But the boundaries come roaring back. The trauma resurfaces. Even while Pran contextualizes to Wai in the library -- “you can’t change the person or the time” when you fall in love -- what also doesn’t change is the world around them. The faculties still hate each other. Pat experiences familial rejection for the first time in his dad’s disappointment about the architecture play. The relationship is revealed. Wai rejects Pran. The seniors reject Pat.

(FAN BREAK: luv you, Aof, that gratuitous shirtlessness at the xylophone, LOVED IT, ::pointing to Aof::, LOVED IT.)

But. Episode 9 kicks in. Korn comes thru, MVP. (Yum, satay.) And I see something in Pran, when he approaches Pat at the bench at lunch.

I see Pran finally, truly, CROSSING HIS OWN LINE. Pran could have PANICKED at the revelation of their relationship to the school. He could have used it as an excuse to chicken out, to back away, again to cite that bad things happen when I get close to you, Pat.

But Pran didn’t do that. He holds Pat down, he steadies Pat. They hold each other down, because -- oh god, my chest is aching here, I’m tearing up -- in that moment, Pran’s recognizing that you need to be there for the family you’ve chosen and made. These are HIS NEW BOUNDARIES -- his new family system and unit. It’s his, and his alone.

Sure, we see in earlier episodes that part of Pran’s love language is nurturing, through cooking for Pat (and sometimes Pa, too, omg so cute), and that he learned that at the hands of his mother. But I saw something different in that simple scene at the lunch bench, after Pat got rejected by his seniors. I saw Pran’s confirmation that he was going to stick the landing of the synthesis, once and for all. That was when he wasn’t going to use any other excuse, ever again, to walk away from Pat, as others had begun to do to Pat.

And then we get the last three brilliant, BRILLIANT episodes of this already brilliant series. Let me set this up, because I think the way Aof did this, as yuzh, was incredible:

Episode 10: There are too many things about episode 10 to list in this already enormous post. I may have to write a separate post about how I think episode 10 was one of the greatest single episodes of a drama I’ve ever watched (the penultimate episode of Extraordinary Attorney Woo also comes to mind).

In any case, the Hegelian framework comes roaring back. We’re nearing the end of the series, and we need to remember as to why we’re here, and how we got to this point. The episode served as a major reminder of Pran’s original thesis -- we learn the reason why the families were at war. We learn that the demands of the separation came from Ming and Dissaya. The boys come out to their folks. The truth of Ming and Dissaya come out.

We learn that Ming himself is a product of MAJOR INTERGENERATIONAL TRAUMA, from his father, so much so that he fucked up a major opportunity for Dissaya. Trauma on trauma on trauma. (Seriously relatable for almost all Asians with pressurized parents.)

And Pran -- PRAN -- TELLS HIS MOTHER, TO HER FACE, that it was HER traumatizing HIM that led HIM to be the way he IS. At the end of this episode, before he rejoins Pat, he finally confronts his mother, and begins his holistic antithesis for the final time.

The boys come back together at the end of the episode, and weep, and embrace. And Pat says: we’re getting the fuck out of here.

(Now’s a good time to link to a meme on intergenerational trauma that my cousins in SE Asia shared with me around the end of 2021 -- interesting timing that this was floating around the WhatsApps and LINEs of that period.)

Episode 11: Leaving. Antithesis. The sea. Crossing boundaries. Living their lives together.

Oh my god, my aching heart. Pat spending most of the episode insisting that they were going to live together, forever, in the village. The antithesis to their lives in Bangkok. Pran knowing better. Pat knowing it, too.

The fact that until the very last minute, the entire episode was spent in the village, meant SO MUCH TO ME. This episode gave the guys TIME to process THEMSELVES, and their decisions. Oh lord, tears on tears.

And: what did the guys do? THEY COMMITTED TO EACH OTHER. CREATING THEIR FAMILY TOGETHER. They were going to do it THEIR WAY -- and, AND, AND -- BREAK THE CHAIN OF TRAUMA that they both faced, as assigned and influenced by their parents, by leveraging their new family unit TOGETHER.

And who helped give them that oomph, that power? Who helped them get context to see that that work was WORTH DOING -- even if it wouldn’t end up changing their families?

Uncle Tong. The boys got to see that through Uncle Tong.

They got to see that one individual, or two individuals together, can’t change the world. The boys learned, indirectly, that they can’t change the world of their parents. But they can improve THEIR OWN WORLD.

Episode 12: SYNTHESIS.

When I was perusing the BBS tags for analysis, something I read piqued my interest: that the boys had to remain closeted to their families and friends.

I wouldn’t call it closeted. Instead, I want to guess what Aof was doing here.

I truly think Aof was showing compassion to the parental generation. It’s not the parents’ faults that they themselves were products of intergenerational trauma (peep the meme from earlier).

For me -- I’m an adult now, but I still carry the scars of my childhood -- I was disappointed not to see a bigger family resolution during my first watch of episode 12. But after a careful rewatch, I think Aof was being majorly realistic in his writing. These families weren’t going to come together in a finale, let alone in a day, let alone after DECADES of fighting.

Intergenerational trauma has to stop somewhere if you’re cognizant of it, and Pran and Pat’s parents weren’t cognizant of it. But: the guys certainly were. As we saw in the shots above, Pran himself CALLED OUT his mom for it in episode 10.

So I think I understand why Aof didn’t make a sparkling, holistically accepting ending out of this, because -- it was unrealistic. Ming and Dissaya still carry THEIR scars, and THEY need time to heal, too.

Their partners -- Pran’s dad and Pat’s mom -- are more ready for that change. They’re getting slightly caught up in the winds of change. Hell, even Pat’s mom says, “We are the adults” in episode 10 to Ming. Like Pa, Pat’s mom is demonstrating a little gentle nudge towards changing HER boundaries of the situation.

And the boys stated their stance at the end:

“Just like Uncle Tong said, we can’t change the world. All we could do was adjust to it, and live happily. We might not be able to change the people around us. BUT THEY COULDN’T CHANGE THE TWO OF US, EITHER.” [emphasis mine, obv]

I want to make one very last point that deeply touched my heart, and, I feel, confirms my theory about the boys making a new family unit together, complete with the boundaries of their choosing, and refusing to carry the trauma of their pasts. @telomeke-bbs wrote a lovely post, in part, about the meaning of Pran’s liquor gift to Ming. I totally agree with the analysis, and just wanted to add some cultural flavor.

Being an in-law in an Asian family structure means you show respect to your in-law elders. It’s just an unspoken, natural part of our being (and it helps if you like your in-laws). I’m married to a Westerner, but in many ways, I treat my Western in-laws with the same kind of respect as I would if they were Asian. So that means, I cook generously (they don’t expect me to do it, don’t worry -- I just like doing it, because it makes me feel like we’re family), and I serve up fine-ass cocktails (hell yeah). It’s fun, but it also makes me feel like I’m nurturing my extended family.

Pran gave the liquor gift to Ming, because....Ming is his family. Hey, Ming? Womp womp. You’ve got a son-in-law -- because Pran is taking on that role, despite your best efforts to reject that reality. And I see you, Ming, slowly, slowly, slowly begin to imagine that reality when you took a sip.

The reality is that when the boys became family to each other, they indirectly adopted each other’s families as their own -- because that’s just what happens in a relationship. And the liquor gift confirmed that. My heart SWELLED when Pran gave the gift to Pat, and I saw the duty-free bags in Pat’s family’s living room. How many times have I seen that scene in my life, when fam came back to visit from overseas -- scores of times. It meant so much. I’m going to bring a piece of overseas back to my family, even if my family, my in-laws, reject me. Maturity, motherfuckas. My man, Pran. Best son-in-law.

Aof took SO MUCH of what Asians expect about how our lives should be lived in this show, and absolutely turned it on its head. His SCRUTINY at what keeps adults back, at how adults raise children -- and about how children can CHANGE PARADIGMS, through love and partnership -- is CRITICAL COMMENTARY for young Asians, and young people around the world.

Oh, man. Do I have any more words? I’m all written out. If you got this far, thank you. This show WILL BE required viewing for my kids when they’re older. I want them to see what intergenerational trauma means to their Asian heritage. I want them to CALL ME and my hubs OUT for it. And I want them to know how they can be so strong, like Pat and Pran, to change the trajectory of their lives for the better.

*Tagging @bengiyo by request. <3

#bad buddy #bad buddy the series #backaof noppharnach #turtles catches up with thai bls #turtles catches up with the essential BLs #nanon korapat #ohm pawat #ohmnanon #intergenerational trauma #intergenerational trauma in asian societies #intergenerational trauma in asian families #david hegel #bad buddy meta #bad buddy the series meta #patpran #pran x pat #pat x pran #pranpat #aof noppharnach

224 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 1 year

Text

Bit rusty on Bayverse, so I apologize if something is wrong. Decided on Raphael for this request. Did a concept as not specified.

Yandere! Raphael (2014) with Teasing! Darling

Short Concept/Reaction

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Obsession, Implications of NSFW but nothing happens.

Darlings don't typically encourage yandere behavior.

However, I'll make an exception for this concept.

Raphael has been sneaking off and stalking you for months.

He normally isn't one for notes, although he finds himself knowing every little thing about you due to his secret past time.

Throughout the months he's watched you he's tried to be sneaky.

He is a ninja, but everyone makes mistakes.

In this concept you catch him on his multiple slip ups.

Instead of being repulsed or scared, you are quite the opposite.

You're intrigued and interested... curious about Raphael and what he sees in you.

So you tease him.

Raphael can be impulsive and rash at times.

Your teasing confuses him.

At least, he assumes that's what you're doing?

He mentally curses himself for allowing you to catch him in the act multiple times.

Although... seeing you tease him ignites a strong desire within him.

Teasing him is like holding meat in front of a beast.

It's a stupid idea.

That doesn't stop your strange new game, however.

You're completely aware of the large turtle staring at you through your window.

Wanting to catch Raphael's eye, you change up your behavior.

You wear looser clothing, you press yourself up against the window.

Hell, you even break out the makeup.

Raphael, of course, notices all of this.

What are you trying to do to him?

You just keep spuring him on... getting the mutant all worked up over your provocative behavior.

He just about loses it when you open your window, peering into the darkness.

"I know you're there... catch me if you can~"

Raphael is just... done.

He can't keep doing this-

He needs you.

Over the next few nights, it's strangely quiet.

No sign of your turtle stalker anywhere....

Then there's a crash through your window one night while you were in the kitchen.

Your heart jumps at the sound of shattering glass, slowly looking around.

What was that-

"Just what were you thinking...."

A deep voice growls towards you.

Before you can see who spoke, you're pushed to the counter, being stared down by a giant mutant turtle.

"Were you trying to get me worked up? Is this proof you feel the same!?"

You can barely talk, focusing on the harsh grip around you.

"I-"

"It better be.... Just know, this little game of yours? Whatever happens now is all your fault."

He then presses closer, sealing you against his large body.

"Now prove to me you really meant it...."

#yandere teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere tmnt #yandere bayverse tmnt #yandere raphael

175 notes · View notes

alwerakoo · 4 months

Text

One aspect of rise!Mikey that I feel like gets often overlooked (and that I love elaborating on in my series) is that he seems to have the type of personality one chooses to develop by themselves.

What I mean by that is that yes - he is the most emotionally mature of his brothers and yes - he's most likely an empath by nature, but there are some moments in the series that would feel 'out of character' for a typical sunshine/heart of the group kind of character.

Probably most memorably in "Pizza Pit", where he goes on full on feral, to the point where Raph as to actively hold him down (noteworthy for this take is that he says "I'm usually a peaceful turtle"). And he does his iconic "evil" laugh. And while Donnie and Leo say: "Should we be worried about him?" "... Probably.", Raph doesn't seem at all bothered by his behavior, which leads me to think that this has happened before, perhaps while Mikey was in a not-so-good mental state, like im this episode.

There's also "Doctor Delicate Touch" and "Doctor Feelings" (both of which I'm going to over interprete because fuck it, I AM making it THAT DEEP). What's interesting about these characters is that, while Doctor Feelings feels like something a kid would come up with to get through his emotionally constipated brothers (and seems to be a relatively new thing, since Donnie didn't recognize him like he does Dr DT), Dr Delicate Touch is more interesting. He's loud and blunt, mean, but all for the sake of accomplishing a certain goal, and as Mikey put it: "he feels nothing". He usually comes up when they run out of other resolutions to a problem, or in deeply frustrating moments. To me, this feels like a way for Mikey to vent out his emotions/resolve a problem in a way he would naturally lean towards, without the outburst impacting his role in the family or the way his brothers view him.

In short words - Dr Delicate Touch is Mikey's natural personality.

All of this leads me to believe that by nature, he leans more towards chaotic neutral rather than the chaotic good usually associated with him, and his personally would reflect that more if he grew up an only child.

To be clear - I don't think actively 'choosing' your personality or reshaping it a certain way makes it any less real, or that he's pretending in any way. This is just something some people do while growing up.

So what I'm saying is that while, for example, Raph seems to have just naturally fall into the role of a leader because of the type of person he is(as basically canonically confirmed), to me Mikey feels like he deliberately choose to be the sort of emotional support/glue to his family on purpose, and reshaped his personality to fit after.

#this is a show for 7 year olds and yes I AM making it THAT DEEP #this post appeals to me and like #maybe one other person that sees his charcater the same way #again this is my opinion but if you have any thoughts please share I love to discuss these little guys #character analysis #tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt michelangelo

26 notes · View notes

lotus-duckies · 7 months

Text

anyway here's a pseudo intellectual analysis of the vision quest outfits because i'm normal

The vision quest is interesting to me because it's an instance of the turtles individuality, especially how that shows in the garments they made for themselves.

Raph

Raph deviates the most from the norm, even changing the shape of his mask which feels representative of his feelings of being outcast and wanting to go off to do his own thing.

Most notably, his outfit has a lot of elements akin to alt, adult, or rebellious images, like his belt now resembling a harness, fishnets and his neck being tied off like a choker. It makes for a compelling statement on his desire to be different, be self expressive and individual, to be seen as an adult who can make his own choices and doesn't need to be coddled.

I think this also shows in how he traded his sai, which are typically not very sharp and used for self defense (though offensive techniques can also used), for flaming shredder blades, which are definitely very dangerous for both whoever he's fighting and himself. The fact he used them without hurting himself implies practice, careful use. Wisdom, perhaps. Tempering the fire for power as Splinter said.

(did i mention i think his head reminds me of a snake with its tongue out. that's very important. he looks like a snake with More Teeth for fighting. absolutely lethal)

Also I will briefly mention the implied sensory experience that was what I wanted this to be about. He has significantly more fabric squeezing and covering him, scratchy fishnets on his arms, almost every part of his face is covered except his mouth. Suggesting a sensory profile that he may enjoy pressure stimming, perhaps that goes hand in hand with the fact he's more aggressive in his sparring and fighting. Something to think about.

Donnie

I'm going to talk about Mikey later but i think it's interesting they both chose to paint themselves and wear some kind of armor to protect themselves.

Donnie's design speaks to me as someone who has so much creative energy buzzing inside him but also wants to hide. He seemed to be the most sensitive about the fact they're mutants, often downtrodden about being told he could never be with April because they're freaks, and this combined with that he Knows he's going to get hurt results in the mask. (also maybe he likes casey and his stupid mask maybe he likes it a lot maybe they're kissing on the mouth idk)

The mask and the paint feel very creative expression,very artist form. The desire to build upon a metaphorical blank canvas to make something Different. Straight up covering his face with a skull-esque image. Changing himself from the monster he was to a creature he wants to be (human, casey, etc.

And his choice to change his bo for an axe feels ever reminiscent of the "I can't fight advanced alien technology with a 7 foot staff" statement. Although his bo staff does have a blade now, he wanted More Blade. Just blade. He's giving serial killer energy. Mad scientist energy, even. The axe requires strength that he needs, and we all know from the vizioso incident that he would kill people on sight and this axe reflects that.

Also, the sensory profile: Potentially implies enjoying covered, being in dim spaces, enjoying having a solid material on his face and tolerating the feeling of paint on his skin.

Leo

Leo's interesting because he's the only one who kept his original weapons, and arguably deviated the least from his normal design. I think this a good example of Leo's autism behavior and his desire to keep things the same, holding onto the comfort of familiarity rather than taking the risk to jump into exploration.

The most notable difference being the bow and the arm garments (the guard and the elbow wrappings, likely to protect his arms from strain and the bow whiplash). I love how Leo adopted the bow to compensate for his knee being crapped out, a logical choice to focus on long distance range but still keeping his swords Just In Case (and probably internally hoping he'd still be able to use them well)

It shows Leo's leadership qualities, knowing when it's time to make sacrifices, adapting to new situations, changing for the better, and at the same time, the fear of the unknown and wanting to stay the same.

The sensory: Unlike Raph and Donnie, Leo's hood is a cowl neck. gee that's so interesting oh golly i wonder if something happened that made him not want something near his neck gee i wonder why

Mikey

And now I talk about Mikey's armor and paint. While I definitely think Mikey would wear armor to help keep himself safe because he gets hunted a lot, it also radiates "oh man do you know what would look SICK" and "Learn to be strong and calm, like the forest" "okay sensei got it ! *covers himself in wood*"

He chose wood pieces that still have branches sticking off of them, and with the way he painted his face and. general mutant turtle vibes. he looks more like a Creetur, shrekish. Mikey embraces the strange, the unheard of, the monsters and repulsive. Not covering himself with things to hide his turtle nature, but adding More to that nature. (perhaps we could interpret the paint and wood as camoflague, better blending in to his surroundings, being a better ninja)

I'm also reminded of the armor worn by samurais. A bold goal if intended, considering Mikey's inattentive and distracted behaviorisms. But perhaps that is what he aims to become, a noble and admired warrior, making logical choices to protect himself and trying to be better, growing up into a responsible and capable man. I will not mention the last ronin mikey i will not mention the last ronin mikey i will not

Enamoured by his choice of weapon as well. Splinter had specifically given nunchaku to Mikey, which makes me think the kusarigama blade attachments were a modification He made, likely to prove something to himself or his brothers, wanting to do more, as nunchaku are typically given to those in training to develop quick hand movements and good posture.

And then he has eliminated the chain entirely to just have a sickle of sorts. Sickles were traditionally used for agriculture and the same could be said for the kusarigama, but now they appear to have an association with assassination, once again bringing back this idea of wanting to be more dangerous, be taken seriously and doing more damage.

anyway

#is this anything #leonardo hamato #raphael hamato #donatello hamato #michelangelo hamato #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #analysis

34 notes · View notes

s0fti3w1tch · 1 year

Text

Headcanons: ROTTMNT Turtles Chirping (and Other Turtle Sounds)🎤🐢✨✨ pt. 1

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: If you're actually taking care of a real turtle, please be mindful of the noises they make! Chirps can come from stress, water temp, respiratory infection, etc. Yes, they can come from non-concerning reasons, but just be sure. IRL turtles don't have vocal chords! And also, several of these traits are taken from very different turtle species than our boys here!

Now that that's said, on to the headcanons!

The turtles can all make turtle sounds! Being half-human mutants (with actual vocal chords, teeth, human saliva, etc.) and isolated from other turtles besides each-other, their range/capabilities of and reasons for using these sounds differ— sometimes greatly—from their IRL turtle species counterparts.

The turtles accidentally created their own sort of pseudo-language that they use to communicate with each other. Chirps, trills, hums, clicks, etc. When words won't come out or they don't feel right to use, when traditional ASL— even their modified TSL (turtle sign language)— wouldn't suffice, it's something they easily fall into. Almost as easy as thinking itself.

Besides unconscious/automatic responses + occasional stimming, they hadn't used their turtle sounds as much as they did as kids. They still use it a couple times a day, typically over the dinner table, during movies, or whenever there was a turtle pile. But after Shredder, and especially after the Kraang's attempted invasion, it's something they've began to do more again.

When the turtles still couldn't form sentences, Splinter had went ham on trying to understand what each means. After guides on pet turtle care didn't do much for him, he was attentive and assumed based off their more humanlike behaviors that accompanied these sounds.

Nowadays, Splinter can't really decipher most of the new noises his sons make. He can still understand some smaller phrases: "Happy," "Sorry," "I want my family," "Stay," "Love you," "Scared," "Yes," "No," and "Hungry!" to name a few.

Raph didn't make many turtle noises when he was a baby, mostly making more humanlike ones. Though he did mew a lot when he was sick or if he had nightmares in his slumber. In addition to that, there's a specific low-frequency hum that only the other turtles could actually hear; typically made during sleepy and/or someone stressful moments. It's both an "I'm right here" and "Come here please" message.

Donnie grunted, though it came off more like a huff as a little one. His chirps sounded more like "cht. cht. cht." When he's thinking hard or feeling a little overwhelmed, he'll also emit a low-frequency hum, one only he could hear— unless he's spending time underwater with Leo, then he could hear it as well. He also hissed a lot. Especially on the days where he's clingy. There's 3 types of Donnie hisses: mildly bothered, "you're pushing it," and "I will actually bite you." How you figure out which is which? For Splinter, trial and error.

Baby Leo really worried Splinter because he kept chirping all the time. He thought that Leo had a respiratory issue and/or was under heavy stress from the sewers' conditions. It really didn't help that Leo got sick the easiest. And when distressed, he'd cry out sounding almost like an upset cat— not really helping with the respiratory infection theory. Turns out, Leo just chirped as a general form of communication, especially when he was feeling excited or happy.

Like Raph, Mikey didn't make a lot of turtle-like noises as a baby— but when he grew into a toddler— he did it a lot. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, and almost every sentence with punctuated with an companying sound. Usually clicks or something similar to a "yep!"/"yp!" sound with his beak.

Leo and Donnie were the most turtle-talkative out of them as babies n' tots. Heck, sometimes, the Disaster Twins™ would sometime just mimic each other's mews and chirps out of boredom (to which Mikey would follow suit, and eventually Raph too).

Splinter, Leo, and Mikey are the only ones who've ever heard Raphael hiss so loud and deep that it turned into a growl.

Raphael is the only one who's ever heard Leo hiss pre-Kraang.

Early on into knowing them, April asked about it. The day after they explained it to her, Donnie and Mikey began working on a "guide" comic together for some of the "basics." It's 40 pages long when they give it to April. As the years passed, she catches on pretty quickly to the various sound cues, and she can have short conversations without them needing to use words.

Casey Junior can understand them pretty well due to being raised around them— when he was small, he would try to mimic those noises (to varying results).

He may or may not have almost cried when he was in the Hamato-family-sleepy-pile and could feel the deep, comforting, low frequency sound reverberating from Raph as he and Leo rested against him— something he hadn't felt since he was just old enough to form memories. And he may have actually cried when Leo sleepily chirped back some sort of unintelligible, but content, response. They were peaceful.

[ Next - coming eventually ]

#rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt thoughts again #rottmnt turtle things!#regular buwan blog #disclaimer at the beginning because #please don't use this as a reference point for turtle communication #take care of your turtle properly #also so people know that I'm aware that this is not accurate to real turtles #this is TMNT you're looking at #please suspend your disbelief #and take care of your turtles properly #this has been in my drafts since October

135 notes · View notes

afreakingdork · 1 day

Text

Weak Spot - Chapter 66

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

The last thing you see before you lose a hand or as I like to say, this week's chapter art by @aimike17

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?

SCREECHING AFTER THE FACT SHOUT-OUT TO @tmntxthings for helping me out with this chapter too! She's a freaking saint when it comes to helping me cook!!!

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: gun, robbery, threats of murder, blood, broken bones, bra removal, clit suck, folds, and the typical pregnancy mention

“Tarp.”

“Check.” You patted down the many plastic sheets.

“Mirrors.”

“Big and small.” You tiptoed around a floor length one and over to the table where a handheld one lay.

“Paint.”

“Check.” In a little swivel, you held out a hand in demonstration to the litany of choices.

“Brushes.”

“Check!” You turned your outstretched hand into a pointed finger to the cup sporting many.

“Spot testing for allergic reactions, check. Scheduled time is blocked so we have the entire day. This leaves mess where tarps have been laid out in accordance to my mapping.” Donnie lifted his head from a screen to stare down where plastic sheets disappeared into the bathroom. “Bedroom otherwise prepared, which leaves clean up…”

You nodded in time, itching to get ready.

“Clean up.”

His repeated line brought your attention.

He was in motion toward the bathroom before you could even ask.

There you heard the clatter of the shower curtain as you followed.

“No, no!”

You reached the door frame and looked in where he was holding a bottle of his soap. “What?”

“Colloquially I may say body wash, but this is technically a cleanser!”

“Okay…?”

“Cleanser retains skin’s natural oil!”

Your fingers squeezed the jamb as you waited for him to elaborate.

“It won’t properly clear paint! Water-based or otherwise!”

“Oh…”

He shook the container. “We would need excess which I have not planned for! The new formulation isn’t due for another week!”

You grimaced sheepishly.

Donnie sighed and then turned to gripe at you. “While I may have increased my order to account for your utilization, it will not be enough. If you recall, we had the addition of your soap for grimier circumstances. With my wash it would take multiple lathers to scrub away all residue. This would leave us without cleanser before more arrived, id est, we were meant to have purchased a separate and appropriate soap.”

He hadn’t been shy about his complaints. When you had first moved in, you had your own body wash, but after a while it seemed easier to just use his. While the formula was supposedly made for him alone, it also made your skin feel comfortably supple. “Uh huh...”

“Y/N, this is a problem!” He brought the bottle over to you.

You took the offering, found it light as described, and turned your head toward the sink. “Okay… We have other soaps… How about the hand soap right here?”

He made a noise of revulsion.

“Or dish soap?” Your head lolled as you looked at him.

His features curled into twisted horror. “You are describing a replacement worse than simply letting the paint dry!”

“If it dries, it just flakes off, doesn't it?”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.” He spoke caustically.

“Donnie, the dish soap is good enough for ducks and oil spills. It’s their whole branding, it can’t be that bad-”

“These are neither oil based paints nor are either of us waterfowl!”

“That’s not what the marketing scheme is trying to-!”

“I refuse!”

You made an annoyed sound and were just shy of stomping your foot. “Donnie, it took forever to get the tarps down according to your plan!”

He folded his arm.

“Donatello!”

His beak rose with a haughty turn of his head.

“So, that’s it!? No body painting because you forgot soap!?”

“Me?” He came down with a fiery gaze. “We made the list together!”

“And you’re Santa Claus checking it twice! You ordered everything!”

“Blame goes both ways. You wound me and therefore I’m even less inclined to continue our activity!” In a flap of his hands, he shooed you.

Irritated, you stepped away only for him to begin to kick up the tarp behind you. “What are you doing!?”

“As you so kindly put it, there will be no body painting today! I am cleaning up!”

“Don, come on!” You blocked him from messing up the ground cover further.

He towered over you.

“We spent all that time testing brushes to make sure they felt right against you! Hell, we spent forever trying to figure out the best way to write on each other. Markers grossed you out and there was so much trial and error for smell and texture and everything! Then, getting the stuff and the time and setup! Please…!”

“We have a process for a reason. This is an undertaking, not to be done on a whim.” His eyes were down, ready to calculate moving you out of the way.

You stepped around his toes to cage him in. “Do you still want to?”

He reared with an annoyed shake. “Have you not been listening!?”

You whacked your hands against his plastron. “Obviously I have! I’m asking if you’re just trying to find an excuse out.”

“Of course not!” He was further offended. “I put forth the effort because I wanted this! We both did!”

“Then why are you giving up so easily!?”

“I’m not! I’m rescheduling. We can attempt another after we have the proper wash.” He found that to be his last word on the situation and moved to get around you.

“I can go to the closest store. There’s a shop two blocks from here and I know they have body wash!”

Donnie stalled, but didn’t look.

“It’s not going to be a great brand, but all soap strips right? As long as it’s for the body, that’s good enough?”

He was clearly processing.

“Please…?”

“Not all.” He glanced. “I have stipulations.”

“Shoot.”

“The product must be free of sulfates, parabens, phthalates, mineral oil, retinyl palmitate, coal tar, hydroquinone, triclosan, triclocarban, formaldehyde and its derivative releasing agents, and even the slightest form of fragrance.”

Your lips parted as you weren’t prepared for such a long list. “You need to send that to me.”

“I will go with you.”

“Yeah!?”

“Calm, this is still your task. I would only rather waste a portion of my time.”

You frowned.

“I don’t care if I ruin the mood.”

You gave one tepid sigh before looking at him with a withered expression. “Your skin care is important.”

“As how it feels and what goes on it.”

“Yes. I’m not making light, I’m just…” You gestured out to how your bedroom was coated in plastic wrap. “We worked so hard. I… no, we were really looking forward to this…”

“I acknowledge the frustrations.” He dipped in to press his beak to your head.

You lingered only for a moment. “Now?”

“Now.” He agreed and you both moved to leave.

Getting shoes on, you were both out the door and heading to the store. Right where you said it was, the micro grocer was a dingy, but serviceable place. Donnie made his stand outside and only helped you by writing out his request list in an app. With your phone in hand, you entered and only glanced at the shopkeeper. A young guy scrolling on his phone, he ignored you while you headed to where the toiletries were. Several options, you picked up the first to start reading ingredients when the door opened again.

Background noise of another customer, you sneered at one of the banned ingredients and moved for the next bottle. Scanning through that one’s tiny print, you squinted to examine it closer when you heard a huffy voice.

“Hurry up…”

Your head lifting with an odd weight, you leaned just enough to look past the shelf you were at.

At the register, whoever had walked in was clearly robbing the place with a gun shaped figure lifted up through his jacket.

Staring, you saw the man at the counter struggle with the machine. “It won’t open unless you make a purchase. I don’t really know-!”

“Fake one, stupid!” The gunman hissed, jerking his coat.

You looked toward the front window, but couldn’t see Donnie.

“Trying to be a hero!?” You weren’t sure how, but the gunman must have caught a glimpse of you because he spun around.

Donnie had been right next to the front door.

He would have seen the guy enter.

He would have heard the commotion, no matter how quiet.

“Hey, you listening?!”

You didn’t move your pupils, but the guy at the register chanced a shaky hand toward the phone.

“Dipshit!!” The gunman stalked toward you. “You hear what the fuck I’m saying or not!?”

Without moving your head, you looked the man up and down.

He appeared small.

He was technically taller than you, but you couldn’t help but shrink him in your mind.

He appeared pathetic with his spindly form and terrible stance.

He looked like he’d jumped into this store on a whim to steal a quick buck in the middle of a slow weekend day.

One thing out of place was sending him into a rage.

You arched a brow. “I’m kind of busy.”

“You’re…?” The flared anger was snuffed out in a confused instant.

“Yeah, my boyfriend is really particular about his body wash.” You shook the bottle in your hands so he could see it better.

“I’m… What the FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?” Doubling down, he yanked the gun out of his jacket pocket to properly point it.

In a way, you were surprised he actually had one.

You expected someone like him to have just faked it with his hand.

Your heart rate barely blipped at the matte black object.

In contrast to your steady blood pressure, you saw a very familiar rush of black behind the gunman.

It was a move imperceptible to anyone else.

When had your senses become so honed?

You guessed it was somewhere along the pipeline of generally dating a mutant and having almost died.

You had seen things the average person couldn’t dream of.

Guns seemed so archaic in comparison.

That explained why you weren’t scared.

You’d dealt with enough.

This pathetic trash wasn’t worth your adrenaline.

You had full faith in your mate and yourself.

“He’s very particular, ya know?” You shrugged.

“Wha…?” The gunman wilted again at your second rebuttal.

“About this…” You looked at the shelf. “About me…” You turned your attention toward the barrel. “He’s waiting for me.”

“If you think your stupid ass sob story is going to-? You know what, fuck you! Empty your pockets, NOW!” The pistol shook and rotated.

“No.”

He blinked.

“I don’t think you understand.” Your head tipped and you could feel the unhinged quality your features took on. “I’m warning you. Put that gun down and walk out or else.”

If the man’s initial anger level was at a one and he doubled it on your first refusal, then his current boiling point broke mercury. “STUPID, FUCKING-!”

Metal crunched so loud it caused the racks of goods to reverberate.

Standing beside you was Donnie.

Extending out from his body were two of his mechanical arms.

One of which was clasped not only around the gun it had just devoured, but the gunman’s hand.

“I tried to tell him.” You gave Donnie a sugar coated look.

Your partner tipped his head toward you in acknowledgement.

Pain delayed, the gunman screeched and the first drops of blood began to trickle out from where his firearm was now part of him.

“You.” The other mech arm blurred as it caught the man by the chest and slammed him into the ground so hard that the floor depressed around him.

You tucked into Donnie’s side and overlooked the crater. “I have an idea.”

“Yes, my love?” Donnie turned to you with faint interest.

The gunman gurgled.

“We’re busy. Let’s have him take himself to the police. He can confess and we won’t have to deal with cover ups or statements.” You touched Donnie’s arm.

Donnie hummed, unconvinced.

The gunman pawed at the mech arm crushing him with his only available hand.

“What do you think?” You looked down at him. “You go or you die?”

“M-my h-hand!” He squawked.

“You point a gun at my mate.” Donnie leaned back with you moving in tandem and the mechanical arm hoisted the gunman up into the air. “Now you ignore their generous offer?”

Reality struck the gunman and he twitched. “I-I-I-I’ll g-go!”

“I’ll know if you take a single step otherwise.” Donnie’s grin split excitement. “I do hope you will.”

“N-no! I-I’ll g-go r-right t-there!!! P-please!!”

Donnie glanced at you with a smoothed out expression.

“Sounds like he gets it.” You rested your chin against him.

Donnie’s lids lowered with affection and the mechanical arms released.

The man hit the floor with another squeak of pain before he scrambled. He smeared blood from his broken hand out in a wet streak before he stumbled on a twisted angle straight towards the door. As if in a movie panning shot, you and Donnie both watched after him and caught sight of the young man at the register.

His hands were up in surrender.

A phone hung from one of his palms.

“He called the police.” You told Donnie. “ETA?”

Your boyfriend checked his gauntlet for a tiny screen projection. “Ten minutes.”

“Hey, we really just wanted to buy some soap. Is it cool if we keep looking?” You raised your voice a little to address the shop attendant.

The guy gawked.

Donnie seemed to realize something and in a slow withdrawal, the mechanical arms retreated and morphed back into his battle shell.

As if on cue, the attendant’s hands similarly lowered. “Seriously?!”

“Yeah.” You held up the body wash bottle still in your hand.

“… Whatever, sure!” The attendant slumped in a stool and mumbled about his day.

“Okay, I was almost done with this one.” You walked back to the selection with your eyes glued to the tiny print.

Donnie came with and curled around your back, pressing impatient kisses to your neck.

“Sweet, I gotta focus.”

“Love you.” He husked in your ear.

“Me too.” You spoke distantly. “Ugh dangit, not this one either.”

The moment you reached to put it back on the shelf, Donnie took advantage of the real estate and groped under your lifted arm.

You held back a moan. “D-Don…!”

“Want you.”

“I know, but the paint…” You fumbled the last bottle, but kept it from falling off the shelf.

He churred honey into your ear.

You shuddered as you turned the bottle over to read. “I saw you run up behind the asshole. I’m surprised you waited.”

He released a hot breath from where he was nibbling your ear lobe. “You were stunning. I wouldn’t dare interrupt. That control, incredible.”

“I didn’t do anything…” Your eyes drifted and you leaned to give him better access.

He latched to give you a hickey close to your hairline.

You released a shaky breath.

He gave a final hard suck before moving his lips away only long enough to mumble. “I see sodium palmitate, which falls in a similar group. Try the bar.”

“I-is that on there? Damn…” You put the bottle back and he moved with you as you grabbed said rectangle.

A churr rumbled in your ears as you found the ingredients list scant and to the point.

“This one’s perfect, fuck, this one.”

“Very good.” He pressed a wet kiss below his mark and removed himself from you.

You stumbled a few steps before making it to the register to pay.

“Uh, thank… you…?” The young man mumbled unsure as he rang you up.

“Sure.” You shrugged and caught the soap bar to leave after the transaction.

“You’ll receive payment for the floor.” Donnie tossed casually as he followed you out.

You heard the attendant give another confused thanks.

Your legs pumped with power walking purpose back towards your apartment. Donnie’s longer legs kept him easily in tow and he had a light hearted air as you walked. Reaching your apartment in record time, you both jockeyed at the front door and in doing so a question popped out of you.

“You going soft?”

He slowed and turned to you with a curious shift of his pupil.

“Hot or not, there was a gun pointed at me. I doubt there’s much what if, but it just feels like usually you would have killed or maimed anyone the second they tried a stunt like that.”

Donnie sugared his gaze before he bent in, nice and slow, to put his face on level with yours. With a lethally cute tip of his head, his gaze simmered. “So what if I am?”

Your stomach somersaulted.

“So what if I am going soft?” He repeated and the tip of his beak took the faintest whiff of the air. “Maybe I prefer domestication…? Doesn’t smell like a problem.”

You murmured his name and the door felt especially heavy where you were stuck holding it.

“Being kept…” He flicked a low lidded gaze over you. “I was not aware of the advantages. It seemed a noose, but a docile predator has the same bite while no longer having to fight to be fed.”

“It’s about how they use it…” You whispered and ghosted your lips over his before charging inside.

He followed close after and, as you tried to deviate toward the elevator, he hooked your waist. You were launched up several flights of stairs in a way that reminded you of a tender version of your first night together and this time there was no need to fumble at the door. You slipped in first and took a few dancing steps with your purchase obvious in hand.

Donnie leered behind and you deposited the soap bar in the bathroom before meeting him in the bedroom. The kiss there seared intensity, but starkly contrasted the slow way he worked up the bottom of your top. You mewled against his lips, struggling with quick urges and he scolded you with promises of more. You relented and broke apart long enough for him to disrobe you.

Bra as a last hold, you took your turn to steal his sweater away and did so with far less grace. You dragged him with his long arms on a tug and he chuckled his way to wrapping them around you. Both for a hug and then for the greater purpose of unfastening your bottoms, you peppered him with kisses. He lounged in them, slowing as he shimmied fabric down your hips. By the time your bottom hit the floor, he was drunkenly shoving his tongue into your mouth.

Winding and sipping on heat, you melded together. Your bra was soon popped and you tipped your body to let it fall from your shoulders as he did his own fly. Coordination had you both naked and clothes were kicked away toward the living room before you pulled him to the paint selection.

“Mark me as yours.” His voice ghosted your ears.

You both exhaled and sighed dreamy as you picked black for its sharp pigmentation. Selecting one of the soft brushes that he’d designated for his skin, you dunked bristles to pigment before bringing up a darkened tip. He eyed it and then you with trust so full that it threatened to drip the same as your implement. Moving forward with a flexible wrist, you swiped black over his neck. A reclamation of his brand, he handed himself over and the loll back of his head said the sensation felt good. Stroking to enhance and taking care in making a bold collar, streaks dripped and rolled along his musculature. It adorned his painted choker with black pearls that beckoned you to swipe over the plump tips of.

Donnie surfaced enough to try to watch you as you finger painted from the pool and wrote your name amongst the drip just under his blackened throat.

“If found, please return to…” You teased and kissed his cheek.

He churred lightly. “May I?”

“Of course.” You held the brush out for him and he politely declined.

You followed him to the table. He took a long time selecting his own instruments and in the meantime you cleaned your brush. Capping off the black paint, you set the brush off to dry in a little section of the table that was set up for that. Donnie then approached you, ready, with a carefully turned paint canister in one hand and a medium sized precision brush in the other.

“Stand over here.” He gestured and walked himself toward the middle of the bedroom.

You trailed after and strained to see what color he had.

“Don’t look.” He grinned knowingly. “Eyes on mine. I want to surprise you.”

You adjusted your posture to look at him comfortably. “Won’t I be able to tell from the strokes?”

He hummed with little interest. “Maybe.”

You watched the way his lids fell as he uncapped his paint. His little lashes moved as a brush of their own, protecting the dimensionality of his eyes. You watched every little dip and dart of his pupil as he acquired paint. His focus shifted, all engrossed, as the brush dabbed wet to your arm. First with a blot so he could test the thickness and viscosity of the paint, he swiped and adjusted his brush’s load before he committed to a full stroke.

A swift line that he focused on cleanly finishing off, there was a curl of movement. In an attractive turn of his head, he must have looked at the paint pot to get more on his brush. You were enamored to watch your mate work with this new point of view. So often when you were on the receiving end, he was doing his best to distract you. Now you only had clear attention and with it you could commit all of him to memory. From another swipe to your current arm and then moving to the other, you tracked him the whole way. With his eyes focused on the task, you got to see every emotion pass over them.

You understood the phrase windows to the soul, but the phrase took new meaning when you watched him like this. His dedication flowed out in acts of service and he was a machine ever taking information in. If you were to agree with his domestication comment, you’d only do so because he’d allowed it. He was a wild animal that had judged you in a lengthy trial period before he ever chanced bowing his head to your worth.

It was an honor bestowed as great as knighthood and, as such, Donnie knelt before you. You wished you still had your paints to both lay your decree and also because you could now see you had missed a spot on his collar. With his head down you could see the missing connection clearly and wanted to belt off the green. It would match his villainous color scheme nicely where he’d left his mask on and you hardly noticed him painting your legs until he lifted up with a satisfied smile.

“Done already?”

Donnie grinned and went to put his brushes up. “One moment for the reveal.”

“Yessir.” You tried to parse out the damp skin and what it marked off.

It was clearly each of your limbs, but hadn’t seemed to be a complicated design.

Before you could ponder further, Donnie appeared behind you to lead you over to the mirror. “Eyes.”

You let him move you and followed only his gaze in the reflection.

In a quick shuffling to get you full framed, he then nodded for you to look at yourself.

You did and found the slightest purple on your arms. You turned first to the right, finding two connected blocks on your upper arm, but also revealed two disconnected ones on your legs. Your smile grew as you turned the other way and found more purple pixels, all identical replicas of Donnie’s markings. “Interesting brand.”

“I do appreciate a theme.” He kissed your cheek over your shoulder. “You look ravishing.”

“If it’s a theme, you forgot the green.” You chewed your lip and leaned into him. “I love it. Understated, but you.”

Donnie chuffed. “Skin needs to breathe. A full-body paint job would cover your pores and chance a disruption of the sweating and cooling mechanisms in your body. if we were to test something like that, might as well have a cloaking broach.”

You turned toward him. “What is that? You’ve said it before and I think Shelly has like… alluded to it?”

“It’s a stone that allows one to cloak their appearance.”

“Got that much.” You teased and made it obvious you were returning for the paints.

He followed you to clean his brush. “A mystic item then.”

“Do you have one?” You picked the same pair you had before and gestured him to the bed.

He sat on the crinkling tarp covering and waited for you. “No. I liken my visage.”

Half sitting on the edge, you leaned around him to close the painted collar and then drifted brushstrokes down his front. “I do too.”

He churred affection.

You tried to paint his plastron and frowned at how the different texture streaked the paint. “How does the stone figure out what you should look like? Do you think of an image in your head and it makes it happen?”

“Some thought, but as with most mysticism, it trends illogical. Let’s imagine if you were to don it and you chose to cloak as a turtle mutant.”

You nodded both to him and how you tested various brushing techniques to get the black to lacquer.

“You may not be a softshell.”

That caught your attention and you sent surprise toward him.

He had latent irritation creasing his features. “Unfortunately there’s a certain luck of the draw. There’s a high chance you may be, considering my DNA…” He reached out and pressed a targeted digit into your pelvis. “… is soaked into yours, but I digress. It isn’t assured.”

You stalled a stroke and kissed him hard.

He held you a metered amount away to protect your paint work.

You tapered off for a few needy presses before reluctantly continuing. “Is that why you chose to disguise yourself with make-up instead? Didn’t like the way the broach changed you?”

He gave a faint chirp of approval at your memory.

You stole another kiss.

“I feel compelled to clarify: I’ve never used one.”

“Don’t like the chance of how it’ll change you.” You corrected.

You chuckled and felt his approving air follow you down onto your knees so you could have better access to painting further down his plastron.

“Share?”

“I was just thinking this would totally turn into washboard abs.” You gestured to him and layered on extra coats to thicken the lines you’d drawn.

“You’re curious?”

“Not really.” You tried to make a circle, but it wasn’t clean. “You don’t like it, so I’m not really interested.”

“You wouldn’t prefer me human.”

It was a statement and, though he hadn’t asked, you knew he needed reassurance. You sent it up to him by fully stopping and giving him your full attention. “Never.”

He had a wickedness to his gaze. “Monster fucker.”

You splatted your brush right into his beak and he chuffed droplets to clear his nose.

Still, he laughed and you continued your work with a pout.

Criss-crossing lines, you did a few touch ups, before you sat back to look at your work as a whole.

“I could acquire two.”

You moved your attention to his face.

“For science. I appreciate that sort of intrigue.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“It’s not a physiological change. Only cosmetic.”

“And mystic.” You gave a lazy grin.

He sneered.

“Anything with you.” You stood.

He took a deep breath before doing the same. “Shall I see your masterpiece?”

“Please.” You swept your hand in a gesture to the full length mirror.

He moved to his reflection and recognition hit him immediately. “A harness.”

“Yes, my pet.” You pressed to his carapace and kissed his arm. “That’s kept.”

“I never considered…” He tilted his head.

“Wearing one? I doubt that.” You came around to look him over again.

He shook his head. “You didn’t connect the collar.” He pointed at this throat and then down. “I never thought to wear a harness without.”

“Oh…”

“Oh.” He mimicked your interest. “I’ll whip something up.”

“Use the link rings.” You leaned into him.

“Of course.” He kissed your forehead and took your chin. “Make-up gave me an idea.”

“What do you need?” You held up your brush and paint.

“Same purple paint, thin square brush.”

“Got it.” You moved to trade off your equipment and brought his requested materials back.

“Eyes closed.”

Your lids drifted and you tipped your chin up for him.

He startled you by catching your lips first then he moved to paint. Careful around your eyes, you felt him make more rectangles skirting down your cheeks. He then was careful over your lids and brows. He blew lightly to seal his art and then moved you gently over to the mirror. You held firm with closed eyes until he gave the signal and opened them to find he’d done an inspired extension of his markings on your face.

“I look cool…” You admired his work around blinks.

“Very…” He breathed warmth into your ear.

You tipped your head for him and he pressed kisses down the side of your neck.

A distraction, a cool brush dabbed your lower back and you arched with a small gasp.

“You k-know…” You managed as he painted what was clearly another rectangular shape. “I’d figured you go womb tattoo before a tramp stamp.”

He slowed only for a moment before he ducked his head to ensure his design. “Dangerous.”

“How so?”

“I would only need the correctly imbued ink.” He skirted your ass and you twitched with sensitivity.

“What…?” You drunkenly slurred as he exchanged his brush for a hand to squeeze the thick of a cheek.

“With such and the correct branching symbol, my birth control would be rendered useless.”

“Ah!” One of his fingers skirted between your legs.

“Best not to give me that power as of yet.” A finger ghosted your sex before another came around and pressed a thick stroke to your upper mons.

Your voice pitched and your head fell to see he’d smeared red paint across your lower belly. “Wha…?”

“Bed.” He nudged you in the direction, but kept himself out of sight. “I need to mark your inner thighs.”

You nodded and the moment you took a step, he slipped a finger into your folds. Knees weakening, you stumbled towards the bed riding his digit. It tested and teased your entrance and you were left to catch the edge of the mattress. He manipulated you only enough so you were sturdy before he disappeared. It took a moment to catch your breath, but you rotated and sat. He appeared, already on his knees with a brush in hand. With him before you, you spread for him and hiked your legs up against the tarp on the mattress. Your feet slid a few times as you tried to find a foothold and he lost his patience to bury his face into your core with a churr.

You cried out his name as he tasted you. His hands occupied with his brush, he rooted deeper with only his snout and lapped at your essence. Your appendages free in contrast, you fisted his mask and pulled. He clearly resisted and you saw through your delirium to how he was specifically keeping his snout from bumping that red blotch he’d made. An odd adornment hanging above your crotch, he licked up a fat stripe to suckle your clit and you bucked against his face once before he retreated. “Damned I can’t do both!”

You slumped a metered amount. “Can’t both cum in me and eat me out?”

“Yes.” He growled lightly before lifting an arm with a brush. His other appendage dipped to support the first and his perfected posture reminded you of a calligraphy master. You meant to ask if that was a skill of his, but the moment the moistened brush tip touched your thigh, you felt a current rip through your flesh. In expert strokes, the feather light tip wafted over you leaving blocks in its wake. You couldn’t help but compare it to the saliva and slick dripping from you. In contrast, it clung to you thick and wrote out a binding contract.

Property of Donatello down one inner thigh.

A prepared table that was ready to house marks of his ownership was left blank on the other.

You were leaned forward to look them over when he rose up enough to reveal his throbbing erection.

“Oh fuck…” You gasped.

“Shall we begin? See just how much of me you can hold?” He carved out a promise in scalding breath as he lined himself up with your weeping sex.

“D-Donnie, we have time. It’s not a race…”

“It’s not?” He smiled and was slow in bending forward to claim your lips. “I believe it is. Did you honestly think I wasn’t still competing with that inane heat-brained bastard?”

“That’s you-u-u-u!” Your word warbled as he pressed his glans in.

“Me.” He spat and shifted his angle with his hips alone to sink into you.

You moaned and moved to hold him.

He caught your limbs before he gave his body over to you.

You felt something wet smear higher than anything between your legs.

For a moment, his weight dropped onto you and he gave a needy wriggle as if his cock wasn’t fully stuffed to its usual depths.

You groaned at the pleasurable weight and felt how his entire body retreated as he pulled a calculated amount out.

Look down.

You looked.

Where there had once been red, there was now purple.

Looking up, you saw the same purple blotch on the bottom of Donnie’s plastron.

Only his was rimmed with blue where yours had red.

He had mixed the colors to create his own on your body right on the spot where you’d balloon with his kid. “Fuck me.”

“My pleasure.”

You wished you could say you lost track, but it was patently untrue as. Donnie, without fail, stopped each time he filled you up to make a tally mark on your inner thigh. He’d then wait, regardless of how far along you were, to ensure the dash would not smear. It was only then he’d return to you with a vigor that seemed to only grow with each symbol.

By five you were delirious and he broke from sex to spill paint. Moving to abstract, he brought you back through slick digits that slid smoothly over your skin. He forewent brushes and dotted off designs until you were present and returned the favor. Together you tumbled and Donnie marked off zones with reminders of the memories they carried. It was a list of his downfall and you told him so. He churred warmth and between affectionate kisses, you drew lazy lines that covered his scars. The constant slick turned the many paints a neutral brain tone and with it an idea struck you.

Instructing him to get on his belly, you straddled his thighs with several bottles. You mixed outside the canvas of his body before you descended on his carapace with purpose. He was initially unnerved as you filled in the scarred gaps to his shell, but he settled at the firm pressure and reassurances that this is what you did in exchange. For each piece of him that he’d offered over, you patched them carefully to where they were meant to be. You’d never allow him to regret his decision to love you and it was when gnarled skin was filled in did you press your full palm down to the center of his spine.

“Donatello, you have my heart, my word, my everything. Whatever you choose, soft or domestic or otherwise, I’m going to make sure you can do it to your heart’s content.”

You stilled thinking he’d give a mating call or something of the like, but he sat silent.

You stared down at your hand that blended in with the color of his rough shell.

“Y/N.”

His voice sounded watery and you tried to quell concerns. “Yeah?”

“Let go so I can gather you.”

You hadn’t considered you were holding him back. The moment your hand lifted, he flipped you over and made a thousand vows in return.

💜Follow me, the tag #weakspotfic , or Ao3 for updates! Behind the scenes deep dive for this chapter and others along with in-depth writing discussions, plot bunnies, and more are available for only 1$ over on my patreon~ 💜

What can I say other than I love my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

#weakspotfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

threestripeslider · 1 year

Photo

okay i got this comment on the new OMO chapter a while ago and i was positively GIDDY at the question since im such a fan of nifty worldbuilding!! idk yet if this will ever come up in the fic in detail so im just gonna smack it on here bc i have several ideas!!

How do Yokai and Mutants differentiate from eachother?

in my mind, i believe yokais have a way easier time when it comes to picking out mutants because there are several factors that they can use to their advantage;

1. Scent Mutants, especially when mixed with some sort of human DNA, tend to smell a lot more human than Yokais. obviously, it gets a little trickier when mutants don’t have any sort of human DNA, which brings us to;

2. Awareness Mutants with no human DNA tend to more animalistic and instinctual, not unlike the mythical creatures in the Hidden City – even if a yokai cant correctly dub them a mutant, they will write them off as a mythical creature, so it’s usually a simple 50/50 on them.

3. Social Behaviors the best and most obvious way to spot a mutant for a yokai is how they behave in a typical yokai social setting – obviously, having been previously human or similar, mutants tend to flounder a lot in their new environment, unfamiliar with specific customs or basic social etiquette in yokai culture. by no means are they malicious, but mutants are pretty clumsy at first, which makes them easy to spot in the crowd.

4. Non-Mystic this one’s a little more unreliable but can be a way to spot a mutant; in general, mutants typically have little to no mystic abilities. i believe most yokais have some sort of mystic ability to different degrees, but mutants do not. however, there can be outliers, such as the turtles, but their mystics is also a point of contention since it isnt really “yokai” mystics but more of a generational human mystics ability. however, it still gets categorized as mystics so they remain the outliers of this, which is why this route of detection isnt always 100% reliable.

on the flipside of it all, the poor mutants arent really that adept at differentiating who’s mutant and who’s not – i think only with time they start to take note of the little differences, but generally speaking it’s a little harder for them to immediately spot a fellow mutant.

Do only Yokai wear Cloaking Devices?

yes and no. generally, cloaking spells and devices are a lot more wide-spread within the yokai community than the mutants, only because it happens to be a yokai invention. that, and they can be rather expensive, depending where you get it from, who made it and the strength of the spell/device. that’s why it’s usually safe to assume 98% of the time the person wearing some mystic cloaking device is a yokai of some kind. mutants arent really aware such things exist until they’ve lived under the yokai for a while and hear about it. and while they arent super accessible, mutants can get their hands on them too if they wish to do so.

Do Yokai view Mutants differently?

that varies from person to person. generally speaking, mutants arent being discriminated against in the Hidden City, however some yokai can be rather distrustful at first since mutants used to be human, especially yokai who initially were born from human effects (eg. curses and other spirits). the non-human mutants tend to be just like their regular creatures so they’re usually seen as a mundane headache when they tip over some poor yokai’s trashcan again. many mutants tend to seek refuge in the Hidden City as they no longer believe they fit in with their human kin Topside, so a good chunk of the Hidden City’s population are mutants – its safe to assume that there are also mutant-yokai offspring popping up.

so yeah!! here are my worldbuilding ideas that i’ve been thinking about!! honestly i cant wait to write about the Hidden City in general bc i just LOVE the concept of it so much OAAAAA

#turtle files: headcanon #omo files: worldbuilding #omo files: behind the scene #odd man out #i fucking love putting in little details in my fics #and whenever asks questions abt them #or points em out im just #HEHEHEHEHE

134 notes · View notes

rainbowsky · 6 months

Note

Hi Rainbow,

I just want to ask you something I've seen several times now since I joined the fandom. Is it true that XZ's big name fans openly call fans to rate other people's work (not just WYB's, because I know that happens a lot) 1 stars on Douban and other sites. I'm asking purely because I want to know the truth, and I'm worried how it'll negatively affect XZ in the industry, not because I want to put that blame on XZ. Please ignore this if this isn't something you want to post on your blog. Thank you

Hi Anon,

What's with all the asks lately about anti/toxic fan behavior? Every turtle who reads my blog should know by now that I think focusing on what those people say and do is pointless, and a very unproductive, negative approach to fandom.

You're all free to do whatever you want, but I hope you can stop bringing these topics to me. It's not what I want to focus on, think about or talk about.

This truly is the last question of this type I'm taking. We should be focusing on GG and DD. When there is a lull like this, and things are slow, now is the perfect time to watch their projects. I highly doubt everyone's seen them all, but if you have then a rewatch is always worthwhile.

GG's movie is coming out early next year, why not also read the story it's based on? The Legend of the Condor Heroes by Jin Yong. FANTASTIC, FANTASTIC story. Absolutely gripping, exceptionally well told. I've been working my way through this series for the past several weeks and I can't recommend it enough.

As for your question, Anon, yes - that type of activity/behavior is a typical part of toxic fan culture, although GG's active fandom solos are known to be especially dedicated to this type of toxic fandom. It's a double-edged sword. On the one hand they are boosting his popularity and clout, and on the other hand they're really messing with his career and harming other fans and artists.

GG and DD's fans are especially horrible to each other and are constantly launching attacks on each other and on each other's idol. Some of the worst attacks against GG and DD were heavily pushed by XFX/MTJJ against each other's idol. The infamous 'desperate illiterate' attack against DD, for example, was largely pushed by XFX, who actually still frequently use it to this day.

My hope is that GG will gradually start to shed this type of fan, and I believe there's some evidence that he's intentionally, carefully shifting his image toward that goal. But in the meantime, this is just where things stand.

A GG solo posted an essay on Weibo a while back that was translated on Twitter, outlining some of their experience in that fandom. It was an interesting read and should give you some insight into how they operate. My thoughts on all of that can be found here and here.

I have also written a lot about similar topics in the past. Just a reminder that if you want to know my thoughts on most past/non-time-sensitive fandom subjects, you can always browse my masterlist post and explore the tags on my posts.*

*Just make sure you're doing so from my actual blog page, because if you access a tag from your timeline or from a reblog you'll get every post from all over Tumblr that has that tag, whereas if you access a tag from my blog you'll only get content from my blog that is tagged that way. You can also do a search on my blog for subjects you're interested in.

#solos belong to moling su sect #it's in the air it's all around #antis go home #ask

25 notes · View notes

wickedsrest-rp · 2 months

Text

It’s time to shake off winter and welcome in Spring. Green grass is poking through the snow, and soon, the town will be covered with blooming flowers that help disguise the blood in the streets. The change in season tends to put people in a good mood, and the township is ready to take advantage of that by putting everyone to work. For the community! This event will last longer and run until June, so there’s plenty of time to enjoy!

Everyone looks forward to the Lions & Lambs Picnic each year. Drawing in thousands from around town – and quite popular with the college students – this isn’t exactly a cozy little picnic you might be used to, but it has the charm! The Common fills with family and friends who are encouraged to bring potluck style food to share with those around them. Maybe you’ll meet someone new or two over some potato salad. Don't worry about missing the picnic, it's there all Spring, waiting for you, watching.

Every year, the town hires several local bands to perform for everyone on the stage set up in the Common. It’s sort of like a battle of the bands, judged purely by the volume of the audience in response to the music at the end of each set. The winning artist will have their choice of two of their songs featured on the local radio station, and the loser with the weakest audience reaction is… often never heard from again, actually. Weird. Probably just too embarrassed!

One of the main events of the picnic is the Running of the Groundhogs - it’s like one of those turtle races, except they’re groundhogs, and they keep chasing each other’s shadows. Place your best on who will meander their way over the finish line first! This is way better than Groundhog Day, and hey, you might even get some cash out of it! Or a groundhog. They’ve been known to chase peoples’ shadows, too, and occasionally devour them. Typical groundhog behavior.

A local spriggan by the name of Buni Easner has discovered the myth of the Easter Bunny and decided to reverse it. She's breaking into people's homes to steal all their eggs. She’s stashing them in a hidden location, but it’s not just regular eggs that she’s filched. Some happen to be from dangerous critters, and they’ll inevitably hatch. Hopefully that stash isn’t near the middle of town, right?

A group of pixies looking to give back to the community are hosting a Spring Fling, but seem to have misunderstood the assignment. They've built a giant slingshot…

It can be hard for a cult to recruit the best people, so a lot of them have taken to setting up booths during the picnic so they can tell you what they’re all about. You can go to them! Learn about the new and the old shrimp gods, how to pray to the mineral abnormality, and why everyone should wear their shirt inside out every Tuesday. Also maybe get indoctrinated into committing homicide.

If you want to pretend to be classy and refined, you can sign up for some wine tasting. Experience a dozen local wines and their unique taste profiles. Swish them around in your long-stemmed glass and make a thoughtful look on your face as you pull descriptive words from the air, like “musty,” “warty,” and “like the contents of my vacuum were distilled into a liquid”. Watch the tannins, they turned someone into a grape. (He made a fine wine.)

Spring is a time of rebirth, and what better way to celebrate that than with a marathon of those awful Twilight movies? There will be a few back-to-back showing of the films at the Midnight Drive-In, so make sure to stop in! You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll rethink your life choices! Buy your tickets at the picnic for a nice discount. They really want to get rid of them.

The town banded together so nicely to clean up all of the goo over the winter, which gave the board of selectmen an idea: what if they could rally everyone to volunteer for other cleanups, too? Sure, some parts of town are kept clean enough, but there is that gigantic mound of garbage in Gatlin Fields. And what about The Old Factory? Whether in small organized groups or as individuals, Resters are doing their part to make the town look nice and clean for the arrival of Spring. But when you leave no stone unturned, you’re going to disrupt what’s underneath.

While the cleanup is a volunteer effort, it’s not without a small bribe. The town is giving out a thank you gift to everyone who pitches in! Send the board of selectmen a ModMail on Discord (traditionally the best way to reach them) and let them know your character is helping out. Disclaimer: All gifts come from The Pile.

Not only are the Good Neighbors keeping the town safe, they’re keeping it clean, too. Most of their volunteers are typical do-gooders who are really trying to spruce up the town and clear out all the junk, but a few are insistent they be the first ones to clean any given area. Some suspect they’ve been pocketing some interesting supernatural finds for themselves.

All of this cleaning action has summoned a demon, Sudso, who is the “demon of the clean”. Not known for being particularly dangerous (and honestly, hardly known at all), Sudso is influencing some stubborn minds and “encouraging” them to hop in on the cleaning efforts, even if they don’t want to. This might seem harmless, but when cleaning becomes more important than preserving one’s life, it can lead victims into dangerous territory. It would be easy to disregard this demon, but the wise may want to come up with a way to scrub him out of town.

The spriggan family that lives in The Pile was initially fascinated by all of the humans buzzing around, but now they’re starting to get annoyed by the intrusion. The humans are supposed to be adding trash, not taking it away! So the spriggans are doing what spriggans do best and sewing mischief about the town, with their biggest plans yet landing right on April Fool’s Day.

Careful what garbage you remove from The Pile. You might just open up a path for Curly Fry. Normally snoozing through nice weather, this beithir could still get confused by the sudden intrusion, and wouldn’t it be so understandable for it to confuse the skyquakes for thunder?

While The Old Factory seems to be perpetually immune to demolition, that doesn’t mean it can’t be spiffed up. But the humans don’t really understand what they might shake out of that place if they start poking around. That might have something to do with the large number of rat kings seen around Worm Row these days. Some people have ended up with them in their attics.

One of the easiest ways to make any place appealing (even those formally encrusted with goo) is to plant some flowers and saplings, letting nature do the rest of the work. Every year, the township’s beautification committee is responsible for introducing some new flora to add that special pop around town. But this year’s shipment of seeds are from the most far-flung of locations, and while they may be beautiful blooms, some are as lethal as they are pretty. Others might make people wish they didn’t stop to smell the roses at all.

A lot of these species have origins with the fae, and those from aos sí may be familiar with them; some are also spellcasting components your local supernatural herbalist can help you out with. While peoples’ reactions vary from fearful to cautiously curious, fae and spellcasters may be delighted by the familiar flora and easy access to rare ingredients.

Deersprings is full of hissing pansies, which are almost serpentine in appearance, and those who put their ear to them should be prepared to hear secrets they may be better off not knowing. It also turns out reindeer are highly allergic to hissing pansies, and those remaining from Winter have fled to faraway lands. Be especially careful of the snapdragons that tend to grow near the pansies. They breathe fire.

Jack’s stalks, which rapidly grow to tree-sized flowers, can grow pretty much anywhere, and the seeds are light enough to be carried even by the most gentle of breezes. These huge flowers are growing in peoples’ yards, out of chimneys, and even inside of homes, knocking the roof off. It’s said that if you climb one to the top, you might find some gold. This is really just pollen and it will make you sneeze and fall.

Fae grass has taken root all over town. Stray sod has been leaving people lost and confused even in their own backyards, and hungry grass growing on soccer fields and in parks has already resulted in some casualties. Some people have put signs up near these patches of dangerous grass, but we all know how good Resters are at ignoring signs warning them of danger.

The flowers are booming! It's not a typo. A field of flowers in Gatlin Fields has achieved limited sentience. Mostly, they're tired of people stepping on them and have an explosive response. This has turned the beautiful field into a minefield. The blasts aren't exactly deadly, but they do leave careless trotters covered in pollen, so allergy sufferers beware!

Beloved for their bright colors, zinnias are a lovely fixture of any garden, and the zinnias in Wicked’s Rest currently come in every color of the rainbow. Each color tends to have a different effect, from the blue ones making you sad, the green ones making you envious, and the red ones making you angry. Speaking of rainbows, they appear over where these flowers grow, and as far as anyone can tell they’re permanent. It’s unknown whether these are due to the flowers, or if maybe there’s some leprechaun nonsense at play. If you look for the ends of the rainbow, you might find a mauling horde instead of a pot of gold. All that glitters is their sharp teeth.

Of course, the pixies and sprites are thriving! Left unchecked, these tiny fae have been claiming entire fields and parks as their own, and some have gotten quite good at weaponizing the supernatural effects of some of the more dangerous flowers. Doing your best to avoid the flowers isn’t going to help if you then walk straight through some sprite territory. Understandably, wardens are on edge and trying to keep humans from wandering where they shouldn’t.

All of these new flowers have created a population explosion of rabbits to eat them. But the rabbits that eat supernatural flowers sometimes become supernatural themselves, and while some may simply grow pastel-colored fur and fun patterns, others take on more menacing traits. Some develop bottomless appetites and extend their diet to objects like trash cans, fences, and plastic lawn flamingos. One rabbit in particular has earned a name for itself. The name is Caerbannog. He lives in a cave in Nightfall Grove surrounded by carnivorous plants and attacks anyone in sight, tearing them apart with huge, pointy teeth a rabbit shouldn’t have.

Spring is in the air! Oh, did we say Spring? We meant bristlecat seeder pheromones. These rare demonic brood parasites lay their eggs around areas of high supernatural activity each Spring, and then immediately abandon them, letting those who stumble upon them do all the hard work. This year, one particular bristlecat chose Wicked’s Rest as their townwide nest.

Bristlecat Seeder: Growing to roughly the size of a minivan and covered in a thick shag of stinging bristles, these relatives of the goggie are imposing in their own right even if they’re not half as large. Bristlecat seeders are rarely seen as adults, and are instead known more often for their brood parasite behavior. Mother bristlecats lay their eggs around supernatural areas, and the eggs give off a strong, musty pheromone that attracts the attention of anyone nearby in a short window of time. When a victim becomes enthralled, they 1) become very stinky and 2) will take care of the egg to their own detriment, and even provide for the young bristlecat seeder when it hatches into a miniature version of the species. Young bristlecats have voracious appetites and will eat people as they rapidly grow, and may even target those who take the host’s attention away from them, but will not bite the hand that feeds. Eventually, when the bristlecat reaches a certain size, they simply wiggle away to live a life of their own, leaving behind a bereft and confused victim.

Naturally, a number of people begin to find the eggs. Maybe they find one while alone, or maybe they happen to run into an egg while with a stranger or even enemy, and it forges an unbreakable bond between an unlikely pair. While host personalities remain intact, protective instincts kick into overdrive; even those with no sense of parental instincts have no choice but to watch over the eggs until they hatch – which can take anywhere from a few days to over a month – and the little guys are big enough to be on their own.

Behavior aside, the smell that lingers on the imprinted guardians is enough to raise some brows. The scent may go undetected to the new “parents'' but those around them find it hard to ignore the musky stink in the air. It becomes even harder to ignore when the young bristlecats go after those close to the host. Nothing will seem out of the ordinary to the guardians, but will those around them be able to figure out what’s going on and break the attachment before the hatchlings grow large enough to become a true danger?

What do bristlecats eat, you might ask? (Don't ask.) They’re not picky. But in order to reach the obscene proportions required, they need to eat the meat – and preferably from something alive.

While there is no “official” way to break the thrall, some dusty old bestiaries might list some folk remedies. Generally, the weirder the suggestion, the more likely it is to work. Good luck sorting through those.

Bristlecats have spent thousands of years fine-tuning their pheromones, and even the undead are not immune to them. Humans, fae, undead, shapeshifters can all find themselves the new parents of these enormous monster caterpillars. However, the pheromones have no effect on non-sentient species.

Most commonly, bristlecats grow to almost their adult size before leaving their guardians. A lot of food is required for them to reach that point, and if they’re not kept fed, they will eat anything and everything around them.

While bristlecat parents no doubt think the world of their little hellspawn, the bristlecats themselves are not much smarter than ordinary caterpillars. They can’t really be trained, but their brood parasite tendencies can come off as intelligence. Anything to endear their guardian to them!

#potw #event #plot of the week

10 notes · View notes