#or have the frogs taken over from the turtles

[hzdtrees]

Against the Light

[rs-hawk]

So Ohio has an Urban Legend called the Loveland frog and it's a giant frog that hangs around the swamps...say a reader got too curious and wanted to learn about it...for science

Ohh yes. I am very familiar with the Loveland Frog. I've never written about anything amphibian like this before so I hope you enjoy this! I did have to do some research though so that’s why this has taken awhile 🙏

You have always been an avid amateur cryptozoologist. It's not like you ever have thought that you would actually find anything, but you have fun, and for the most part it's a harmless hobby. You decide to head to Loveland, Ohio, in search of the supposedly pleasant Loveland Frogman, more affectionately called the “Loveland Frog”.

It’s dark when you creep to the little river he’s said to reside in. To you’re surprise, there’s no one else around. You read conflicting things on the frog, but it seems like the most common is that it’s a man sized frog with human intelligence, or a frog with a man’s body. Either way, it’s weirdly creepy, and almost a bit funny to you. You wander near the river, admiring the sounds of the night and the way the stars reflect off the water.

There’s the sound of splashing behind you, and at first, you pay it no mind. Jumping frogs, little fish, maybe even turtles. It isn’t until you feel something wet and… slimy? grab your arm that you turn around. Towering over you is the Loveland Frog. A hulking creature that you never expected to be real, much less be such an impressive specimen. All kinds of thoughts raced through your mind as you looked over it, it’s hand still curled around your forearm. Most prominent is “How does this thing mate?”

The creature slowly lets go of your arm, looking you over with matched curiosity. It brushes your hair out of your face, softly touching your skin and making croaking sounds at you that you’re unfamiliar with. They’re deep and powerful, vibrating in your chest with how close it is. Then, quite suddenly, it forces one of its slimy fingers inside of your mouth.

You wrinkle your nose at the taste and spit it out, but you’re already feeling the affects. While you can clearly see this thing is a frog, not a toad, the toxins that it must exude from its skin when it so pleases are flooding your brain. There’s a warmth and wetness between your legs that makes you let out an involuntary whimper when you adjust and your pants grind against your core. The creature seems pleased at the sound of your pleasure, causing it to reach out for you again.

You’re so unbalanced on your feet, with your body feeling both too light and too heavy at the same time, that you don’t even care as it leads you to an even more secluded part of the river. You’re back to wondering how something like this could mate. Is there only one? You’re swallowed by darkness as it takes you to a thicket.

The feeling of your clothes being stripped off of you and the cool wind that blows across the river hitting your bare skin makes you hum. The creature lays you down, spreading your legs to gaze at your dripping cunt. That makes you squirm, still present enough of mind to realize that this thing is trying to mate with you, however it does that. Instead of being disgusted though, you can’t help but being curious.

It’s long tongue slides across your clit, making you cry out in pleasure, your button pulsing and throbbing already. It pushes its tongue inside of you, your back arching and whimpering moans escaping your lips as it tongue fucks you to the brink. You’re so close to cumming that when it stops, you start cursing and whining.

That’s when the creature turns you on your back, shoving your face into the dirt. You do little, your body still feeling not like your own. It-he- pushes something thick and long inside of you. You grunt as you’re stretched out, trying to adjust to his size. Then, it starts slowly humping into you, and with each thrust, small objects are deposited into your womb. That’s when you start to squirm and cry out, begging for it to stop. Instead, he curls his hand over your face, forcing his fingers inside of your mouth again.

You’re so high that you slump completely against the ground, now enjoying the feeling of your womb being filled with heavy but squishy eggs. As the creature keeps fucking you into the dirt, you can’t help but clench and cum around his cock multiple times. So many times that you lose count. Finally, he pulls out. You think that it’s over so you let yourself relax, the high making your brain foggy.

However, after a moment, something even larger is stuffed into your used cunt. You moan loudly, grabbing at the grass underneath you. The first frogman walks in front of you, shoving his cock down your throat to feed you the toxin directly as the second creature fucks his cum deeply into you, coating your womb and fertilizing the heavy eggs inside of you.

Your eyes roll back into your head as the toxin makes you even more sensitive, causing you to cum each time the creature inside of you does. You can feel his slick dripping out of you, coating your thighs and the ground under you. Or maybe it’s your own. At this point, you’re not sure.

By sunrise, they both slink off back to the water, leaving you still high and foggy, covered in cum, with a stomach that already looks nine months pregnant.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Taerfleg

Another obvious one this week, but it seems people are having fun with it. Nothing else for me to add right here, I think, so I'll get right into it. If you're confused by what this is, go check out https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting.

And if you want to see the entry people are working from this week, it's here:

Art below in rough chronological order:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) started with the concept of a sea urchin, but decided a face might make it more charismatic. It is a very cute face; I like its vibes a lot. Turning a sea urchin into what appears to be at least a semi-terrestrial creature brings up some interesting etymological stuff also, but we'll get into that at the end of the post. Those tube-like appendages there are an interpretation of the business about "ventilation ducts" in the post -- Silverhart acknowledges that it probably refers to the Taerfleg's nest/burrow/whatever, but that they decided to go this direction instead. The linked post explains that these are breathing tubes the Taerfleg can use when it's submerged in mud, which makes me think of this beast as a frog that's also kind of a stealth caltrop of sorts. Watch your step on those muddy banks.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) expresses that she doesn't have enough time this week to do something elaborate, but has sketched out this very good spiky bug. I like it a lot, actually -- it kind of looks like what you'd get if the Koopas from the Mario games were based on pill bugs instead of turtles. This one's got spines, so you can't jump on it. Probably rolls up into a very dangerous ball. Also, you know, everyone appreciates a good isopod. The design of the head is nice also -- there's something to the widely-spaced eyes and those two long appendages. (Feelers? Mandibles? Either way it's got a good outline I think.)

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has given us an interior view of the Taerfleg's burrow -- over on the right we can see a ventilation duct that's been blocked with some kind of plant matter. Their Taerfleg is a spiny lizard, with long limbs to help them remove the grapes from their spines after collecting them. Notable is the attention to detail -- the grape currently on the Taerfleg's back is a bit squashed from being rolled on. I think the lizard looks really cool -- that tail in particular is very well shaped -- and as often happens, I'm blown away by the amount of detailing CheapSweets is doing with a fountain pen. Also please note the babies over there on the left. For a detailed description of the design process, I highly recommend clicking the linked post.

(Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has again come through with a beautiful medievally-styled piece. These Taerfleg are spiders -- Coolest-capybara notes that "spiders with plant-based diets" and "spiders with spiny carapaces" are both real things, so a type of spider that fits both of those categories isn't out of the realm of possibility. When they're collecting grapes, they wrap them in little spider-silk harnesses, which is neat. I really like the web shown here: we've got a funnel structure, which is what the "ventilation" bit is talking about, and I think the decision to draw it with that kind of knotwork motif is really cool.

(Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@pomrania (link to post here) has taken this in what I can only describe as a delightfully whimsical direction: the spiky armor is artificial. Does the little rodent build these things itself? One must assume. This also explains the ventilation ducts -- they're openings in the little armored vehicle it rolls around in. We can see one covered by a curtain on the left there. It... doesn't look pleased that its armor has been opened. Poor little critter.

@strixcattus (link to post here) has decided to maintain the balance of their bestiaryposting here: last week it was obviously an ant, so they drew a mammal; this week it's obviously a [redacted], so they drew an insect. I think what I like most about this design (besides the fact that it's cute) is that the Taerfleg appears to be doing the dung-beetle rolling thing with that grape. From past experience reading Strixcattus's worldbuilding, I'm guessing that the "attach grapes to its spines" thing is a myth in-universe, and this is its more normal way of gathering grapes. Speaking of which, as usual, it's worth clicking that linked post and seeing the full, more naturalistic interpretation of the Taerfleg that Strixcattus has written.

All right, to the Aberdeen Bestiary:

Yes, so we all know these are hedgehogs, but were you expecting to get this whole scene? I bet not. Check out that very good Stylized Plant. If I were to get a Stylized Plant tattooed on myself (which I'm starting to consider, as this whole thing we're doing has shown me how much I'm delighted by them), this one would be high on my list.

The tiny hedgehogs are very cute, though I think the illustrator didn't keep track of how much space they had in the image, because the scale seems off -- the... grapes? on the hedgehogs' backs are maybe half the size of the ones on the plant. It's like the bottom of the image was compressed.

The thing with the hedgehog using its spines to carry food is all over medieval texts and marginalia, by the way. This was apparently widely believed; I'm pretty sure it is not in fact the case, but Pliny the Elder was certain it was, so you know. Who's to say.

Now, let's talk ✨etymology✨.

So the entry lists the beast as having two names: ericius and echinus. (From my cursory look into it, this is a case of Latin borrowing from Greek: ericius is the Latin for "hedgehog", whereas echinus is the Latinization of the Greek word.) The translation dutifully translates them both, into two different English terms.

The first is of course "hedgehog" -- but that's a fairly recent word, actually. The earliest attestation is at the tail end of the medieval period.

The second is the actual etymological descendant of ericius. Latin ericius became Old French herichon, and after the Normans conquered England that made its way into the English language as hurcheon, which then over the centuries became... urchin.

This is what I meant about Silverhart taking a sea urchin and making it terrestrial being an interesting etymological move. The reason they're called "sea urchins" is because there was already a "land urchin": the hedgehog. They're one of those critters that was named after looking kind of like something on land, and it stuck. Most aquatic organisms whose names start with "sea" are a case of this. (Why do people sometimes say "sea anemone" instead of just "anemone"? Because "anemone" is also a type of flower; the creatures are named after the resemblance.)

It's one of those weird flukes that happens sometimes -- English decided to call the land animal something completely different (I think some dialects still use "urchin", but it isn't common) and the connection became less obvious. In a number of other languages, it's preserved; e.g. in Spanish, "hedgehog" is erizo -- also from ericius -- and "sea urchin" is erizo de mar. Boom, done, the etymology couldn't be more clear.

Incidentally, a weird side note: the Aberdeen Bestiary predates the first attestation of either hedgehog (1450) or urchin (1290). So the creators of this manuscript wouldn't have called them by either of the names we've just discussed, but a secret third option. Before the French loanword became standard, hedgehogs were called ile or igil in English -- cognate with German Igel. (Incidentally, in German a sea urchin is apparently Seeigel, so they also know what it's named after.)

Anyway, it's getting late. Enjoy the lovely art and the unnecessary infodump.

[angelmichelangelo]

Maybe 2012 Mikey being badass? (i've got nothing else lmao)

x

Like most things in his life, being the klutz of his family, he discovers it by entire accident.

Raph and April are out front on the front lawn, training together, a newfound activity that the pair of them have taken to, now that Raph’s number one spar partner was currently unconscious in the tub upstairs.

Mikey’s stomach clinches at the thought. It’s something he often tries to forget these days. Wind whistles past him and he looks up from his spot on the porch, huddling down into his oversized hoodie, he feels some of that unease surrounding his chest start to ebb away. 

At least Raphael was outside, doing something other than just brooding in silence. Casey had even managed to get some dinner down him last night so… maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

With Donnie on constant lookout for Leo, Mikey supposed he was on a similar kind of duty with Raph. The turtle and the girl twirl around each other, unphased by the new year chill that hangs in the air still.

Mikey taps the end of his pencil against the sketchpad. So far it was full of just quick warm up sketches that he’d done through the morning so far. One of the stretch of trees over on the horizon. A frog. One of April standing from afar during her own warm up with Raph.

He taps at the paper, little residuales of pencil shavings bouncing with it when—

“Shit!”

That’s Raph’s voice, sharp and worried that has Mike snapping his head up so fast like rubber.

He’s crouched down beside April who’s now laying in the grass, one leg stretched out, she’s grasping at her ankle, and even from here, Mikey can make out the fresh glimmer of tears she’s stubbornly holding back behind her eyes.

He pushes his sketchpad and pencil aside onto the step as he leaps up, running over to meet them.

“It’s fine,” April tells him straight away before he even has a chance. Raph’s hands are awkwardly hovering over the ankle she’s still grasping at. “Just rolled it funny.”

There’s a little bite to her words that tells him that there was nothing funny about it.

Mikey huffs, crouching down beside her, he offers her a lopsided smile when he tells her.

“Apes, I’ve had a fair share of rolled ankles in my time.” He gently pries her hands away to inspect the damage. “It still hurts like shell.”

It’s swollen already, probably nothing too serious but Raph’s face pales anyway. He never was any good with anything remotely medical. Mikey remembers when they were kids, he couldn’t even watch E.T because of that one particular scene in the med bay tents.

“I’ll go get Don,” is what he tells him, already springing to his feet and making a dash towards the house. 

April sucks in a breath. Now it’s like she’s really trying not to cry and Mikey can’t help but feel bad for her. 

“Here,” he says, gently wrapping his hand around her injured ankle. “I’ve been told I have warm hands. It might help.”

She flinches at first, with the sudden contact, but after a while she relaxes, no longer fisting tight handfuls of grass beneath her palm, even the glossy tears in her eyes seem to sink away.

She blinks. “It.” She says suddenly, stopping short like she lost the thread of her own sentence. “Mike. You’re—”

She’s cut off by the sound of running feet. Two pairs of running feet exactly because Raphael rejoins them with Donnie in tow. He’s got his little med kit with him (that still has the Mikey Do Not Touch sticker that’s slowly starting to peel away on the front) and when he sits beside her, he’s looking breathless and tired.

“Hey,” he says. “Can I look?”

April sniffs. She shakes her head to scoot her bangs from out of her eyes. “It’s not that bad,” she tells him. She inches her leg upwards. “See. I can move it now, really.”

Mikey’s hand stays firmly in place and… and he knew he was being trivial when he said about having warm hands but… but suddenly the skin of his palm that’s touching against hers feels very very hot.

He pulls it away when Raph squeaks in surprise.

Donnie, who was previously rattling about in his box, turns his head and stops short, a frown knitting between his brows. It matches Raph’s current expression almost perfectly.

“I thought you said it was swollen?” Donnie comments, leaning forward to inspect the very not swollen ankle. In fact, it looked in perfect shape. “You said, in your words,” he shoots April a somewhat apologetic look. “Gnarly.”

Raph squeaks again, in disbelief it would appear. 

“It was!” He looks between April and Mikey with quick desperation. “Wasn’t it?”

April gulps and then slowly nods her head. “I… I dunno what happened.” She watches rather gingerly as Don packs his stuff away again. She gives her foot a twirl as if to test it out. “Mike grabbed onto it and… and it got all warm and it was just. Better.”

Donnie and Raph look up at the same time then. Gosh, they really do act like twins sometimes.

“You… grabbed it?” Raph asks, voice pitching upwards slightly. 

Mikey shrugs. His hand no longer feels hot, but he thinks if he had ears right now, they’d probably be burning. “I just held onto it. Thought maybe it’d help.”

Donnie presses all along her joints and bones and once Raph’s pulled her to her feet, she’s able to walk around just fine. No wincing or secret achy bits. It’s like she never hurt it in the first place.

And once Don’s signed her off he retreats back towards the upstairs bathroom again. Raph, Mike and April watch him go when Raph turns to his brother, lifting up one of his hands between his, he says,

“Jeez, bro. You could have maybe unlocked the healing hands any other time for when we needed it other than now. No offense, April.”

But there’s no real bite to his words, not in the way his lips are curling around a knowing smile, or the way April’s bumping his shoulder with his. 

He pulls his hand away with a laugh. “Ha. Leo’s gonna have a field day when he wakes up and finds out I did it on the first try. By accident, too.”

And for an icy moment, Mikey wonders if that when should have been an if. But it all bleeds out, warmth pouring in when Raph barks a laugh and grabs his hand a second time, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Yeah he is,” he tells him, eyes sparkling. Then, his voice goes soft. “And he’ll be proud too.”

And Mikey’s chest aches again, but this time, it feels a little less terrible. And he just can’t wait for his brother to wake up, just so he can tell him all about it. 

[nightshadesmusings]

Ethanol and Mothballs

Word Count: 2.1k This short story is inspired by the museum collections that I visited during my January paleontology class. All of the pictures used are mine and were taken at the various museums we visited. I'm super excited to share this story with y'all, and hope you love it as much as I do!

The halls of the museum are quiet. The day has ended, night plunging the rooms into eerie darkness. Gone are the copious beams of sunlight flowing through the windows. They now show only the gray haze of the city's night sky, plunging the marble halls into obscurity. It's the end of the hustle and bustle of tourists, of the cheerful shouts and giggles of children, and more subdued conversations of adults. The darkness is broken only by the flashlight beams of security guards working the graveyard shift. 

Occasionally, their light settles on the bones of long-dead animals resting peacefully in their wire armatures, casting odd, distorted shadows across the walls. The umbral forms of prehistoric fossils dance with the shadows of the guards, brought halfway to life only briefly by their light. 

The silence is broken only by footsteps on carpet, the whirring of the climate systems, and the building's occasional creak and groan. All is still as it should be; quietly resting after the long day. It would seem that the museum dies at night.

I open my eyes, hearing the slosh of fluid around me as I shakily stretch, limbs hitting the hard edges of my tub. I groan, my voice gravelly from disuse. Finally, it's time to wake up. I sit up, my poorly adjusted eyes only seeing the occasional glint of light reflecting off the trails of ethanol crisscrossing the floor. My muscles are cramped; I barely see my pale limbs tremoring in front of me. I shake, struggling to find a grip on the sterile stainless steel until I manage to grab the edge of the tub. Slowly my eyes adjust to the welcoming darkness, a wonderful reprieve from bright fluorescent lights. The air is thick with the smell of ethanol. Always ethanol here, it clings to everything and everyone, a constant reminder of the place where we reside.

As my vision improves, I can make out the shapes of the shelves in the darkness. They stand in a puddle of ethanol, trails and prints radiating in all directions from it. My tremors slowly subside as my body fights the vestiges of the cold sleep.

I watch a snake slither out of its jar, landing in the ethanol puddle with a quiet plash. It's quickly followed by its jar-mates, then the frogs from the jar next door. 

The soft sloshes are interrupted by a loud series of splashes and thrashes coming from a large tub on the far side of the wet lab. The smell of ethanol intensifies as the massive alligator snapping turtle inside sends liquid everywhere in his energetic bid for freedom. I climb out of my tub, walking off the stiffness and the last of the tremors before pulling the turtle out by the back of his shell.

“Happy wake-up, Troy,” I say as he starts to wander around the room, leaving behind a broad, messy ethanol trail. He opens his mouth wide, looking straight at me. I’m never sure if that's his version of a smile or a death threat.

The shelves are alive, undocumented insects trundling among their more well-known friends. One jar spews hundreds of tiny snails as they crawl over each other and to the ground, trailing ethanol instead of mucus. I twist off the lid to another snail jar; this one is always particularly stubborn. As I pull off the lid, a giant African land snail creeps out onto my arm.

“Yeah, alright buddy, we can go for a walk. Stretch your, er, foot.”

Snail crawls up my torso and onto my shoulder. I gently pat them between their eyestalks and scratch their shell.

“Just give me a second to let the fish out,” I say, unscrewing the lids of the fish jars and letting them swim out into my large tub, “Have fun, guys. It's not much, but it's better than being stuck like sardines in a can. Or a jar, I guess.”

Troy the snapping turtle shuffles over to watch them schooling.

“You can't eat anymore, remember? None of us can. Don't try it, Troy.”

He opens his mouth, giving me another smile/death threat.

“Thank you.”

I slide Dr. MacMorgan's I.D. out from under a dusty, overlooked jar of rhino beetles on the top shelf. I'm grateful for the museum's leniency in issuing him a second I.D. after this one went missing. He claimed he lost the thing, after all, his eyes “aren't what they used to be,” and his memory “is full of cotton wool these days.” I think the curator also helped to fast-track the process. She definitely didn't ask many questions.

Anyway, I had a garden snail steal the I.D. so that I could walk around collections. What can I say, I got tired of only exploring when the man forgot it in the piles of paperwork on his desk. Feelings and federal laws don’t matter much when you’re dead. Besides, now I can go check out the new research posters they put on the walls. It's nice to know that they're still using us for something. 

I swipe the I.D. and step into the hall. The smell of ethanol fades as the door to the wet lab closes. Snail crawls onto my head for a better view as I step into the bathroom and look at our reflection. The light turns on automatically as I walk in, and I wince as my eyes struggle to adjust. I look at myself in the mirror; my cheeks are sallow, cloudy eyes sunk into yellowed skin. A little worse for wear, but not bad, I haven’t aged a day. I examine my arms, running my fingers over the relatively new needle-hole in one of them. It showed up a few months back, but it’ll never heal. Presumably, it was for a tissue sample; I wonder what they’re using it for. I have been dead and pickled in ethanol for a while, it was about time. Snail (who I seem to be wearing as a hat) looks a little better-preserved, but their body still has that yellowish color that all wet lab residents tend to get. My snail hat waves their eyestalks towards the door emphatically. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” I say, stepping back out of the bathroom and into the darkness of the halls. “Where to now?”

They crawl down to my forehead, waving their left eye stalk in front of my eye.

“Alright, fossils it is. I know you like the shark teeth.” They do a move resembling a one-snail wave in appreciation. I smile, heading through the maze of nearly identical corridors. I see the light of a flashlight ahead and duck into an empty office, narrowly avoiding someone. It's probably just a grad student returning from the vending machine with their energy drink. I wait until the light is gone and slip back into the halls.

“Hey look! They extracted my DNA and used it to do some stuff. That explains the needle hole in my arm,” I say, pointing out a poster on the wall. I step close so that Snail can read it. At least, I think they can read. Their eyestalks scan over the lines of text and appear to understand as they pull back. 

They settle back on my forehead and I set off once more, finally reaching the thick, heavy door to the fossil collections. I scan the I.D. and the light blinks green, letting me in beyond the large gray door. We are hit with the strong smell of mothballs and the crisp, strictly temperature and humidity-controlled air. The lights turn on automatically, illuminating the rows of open shelves and closed metal cabinets.

I walk down the aisles, waiting for Snail to stop me and gesture to whatever cabinet they find interesting. When they do, I open the door. All of the drawers are labeled “glyptodon,” so I pull out a random one. Snail crawls off of me and onto the cabinet, eye stalks investigating the giant armadillo fossils. Mostly osteoderms, the bony bits right under the skin, but some teeth and small bones. When they’re satisfied, I close the cabinet and open a nearby one. 

We proceed in a similar fashion for a while, opening whatever cabinets strike our fancy and stopping to admire the fossils inside. Snail crawls back onto my head and we look at the skulls that rest on the open shelves. There are plenty of mammoths and mastodons, recognizable by their massive teeth. The mammoth teeth are more flat, while mastodons’ are more pointy unless they’ve been worn down a lot.

I run my hand along the glossier fossilized enamel, wondering what the fossils would get up to if they could move around at night. They’re just rock-ified bones (the fancy descriptor is permineralized), so they’d fall apart, assuming that they hadn’t already. The Earth is a blender, or so I hear. 

Snail prefers the smaller fossils, so they’re content to stay on my head as I trace the contours of huge tusks, dino bones, and skulls. It’s crazy to think that some of this stuff is still closer in age to spaghetti than to the beginning of life. It sure seems like it’s been fossilized for ages. And then some paleontologist dug it up and encased it in plaster and a volunteer put in thousands of hours to clean it up. 

“Having a nice wander?”

I jump, snapping abruptly out of my thoughts. The voice comes from behind me. Snail retreats into their shell, still on top of my head. Act like a normal person. One who hasn’t been dead and preserved in ethanol for fifty years.

“Hi! I uh, have a really bad skincare routine!”

She laughs. I turn around. It’s the museum curator. She’s wearing a headlamp; it’s still turned on. She raises a hand to turn it off since it’s not needed in the automatic lighting of the fossil collections.

“That tends to happen when you’re a wet lab specimen.”

“You know about that?” I ask as Snail peeks out of their shell, eyestalks fixed on her. The curator’s gaze tracks up at them, then back to my cloudy eyes.

“Yes. How do you think MacMorgan got a new I.D. so quickly?” Seeing my look of concern, she adds, “I don’t mind if you leave the wet lab, as long as you don’t make a mess.”

“Uhh… okay…” I say, still trying to process the new turn of events.

“Some people think that this building is haunted. I see why they would say that. I passed you in the hall earlier, you look very sinister,” she says, smiling.

“That was you, with the light? I thought it was a grad student! Dammit, I need to be more careful,” I reply, looking perturbed.

“You could, or you could keep letting the world believe that this building is haunted.” The curator seems to be enjoying this conversation. She reaches out a hand to pet Snail’s shell. After a few moments, she speaks again, “It can be our little secret.”

“You’re not scared by me? I’m literally dead and pickled, how are you fine with this?”

She laughs again. “I used to work in a wet lab, I’m quite accustomed to seeing preserved organisms. And if you want to have a little fun at night, I suppose I can continue to turn a blind eye.”

I nod awkwardly, surprised by her casual demeanor. The curator holds out her phone, the screen showing a clock that reads 4:13 a.m. 

“For now, it’s time to go back to bed,” she says as the screen turns off. I stare into my reflection in the black glass.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get back to wet lab,” I say, realizing that I’m starting to feel the sluggish feeling that heralds in the morning.

She smiles, turning her headlamp back on as we leave the fossil collections. The curator walks off, disappearing into the shadows of the halls as Snail and I hurry back home. I swipe the I.D. and duck inside, stopping for a moment as I’m hit with the strong smell of ethanol. I help Troy back into his tub, coax Snail into their jar, and gather up the fish swimming in my tub. We’re all much more sluggish as the morning starts to roll in, seeing the sky start to lighten through the window. At last, I collapse back into my tub, trying not to splash too much as I let the ethanol settle back around me.

I drift off into the long day, holding on to the memories of the night. My cloudy eyes don’t close as my muscles stiffen, ready to stay motionless for the next day in the bright lights of the lab. I could run these halls forever, reveling in the shadows of forgotten, forever preserved lives, permeated in the scent of ethanol and mothballs.

[cthulhusstepmom]

Price is so right for chucking soaps freezer meal those things are crimes against humanity also love that gaz is an accessory to the crime 😂

BUT IMMA BE HONEST REPTILE GUY SOAP IS OCCUPYING A NOT INSIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF MY BRAIN!! Do you think hes a snake guy? A lizard guy? Turtle dude maybe? Dude is 1000% in love w crocs and gators tho. Probably what sparked his love of all things scaly when he was younger. What do you wanna bet he was one of the kids chasing frogs and looking for tadpoles throughout childhood? Probably stumbled over a common lizard basking in the sun while glomping thru a park or something and spent the afternoon falling more and more in love.

Consumed any and every morsel of age appropriate reptile info, eventually became a dinosaur kid etc. but also carried that love of them into adulthood. Imma bet he always wanted one as a pet, but bc he enlisted so young he never got the chance. Maybe he gets inspired by the communal tank to start looking into it 👀👀

Anyways i love ur fish lore so much ❤️❤️❤️

You are(as always) right on my wavelength!!

In my head Soap's dad is a reptile person and his mom is an animal person so he definitely gets it from somewhere. When he was young, Soap's parents kept all the herps locked up, both for his safety and the reptiles' God knows Soap was an exuberant and curious kiddo. It's only after they find him in the backyard flat out on his stomach at 4 years old, hand outstretched and a wild little lizard sitting in his palm that they realize just how empathetic he is. After that he gets to play with the reptiles more, always supervised of course. But he grows up surrounded by scaly critters, the equivalent of his childhood dog is a black and white Argentine tegu named Buddy who's turning 23 this year. He spends his days running around and getting into everything, carefully bringing back his catches to take pictures of before running them back to put exactly where he found them.

One day he comes home from primary school with a bloody nose and a black eye, discipline slip clutched in his hand. At recess some of his classmates had been throwing rocks at a little frog that had wandered into the playground and, when Soap had told them to stop, threw a book and ended up killing the little amphibian and little Soap beat the shit out of them with limited success(it was four against one you gotta give the little man credit). Soap's parents show up to the meeting with the headmaster and the parents of the other students with Primrose: a 17 1/2 foot reticulated python. After that meeting they go to the zoo and little Soap declares that one day he's going to have a crocodile that he can feed bullies to.

Having enlisted at such a young a young age Soap doesn't have many animals to his name, just two. A 14 year old ball python he rescued named Martha and a 3 year old bearded dragon named Bowser, both left in the capable care of his parents.

While he doesn't have the facilities to have a reptile on base and, despite popular belief, he does have impulse control....sometimes, he somehow ends up with quite the collection. The thing about soldiers, especially stupid ass new recruits, is that they make a lot of bad decisions (I mean they are soldiers so their track record is already in the negative). And Soap can't bear to see any animal suffer from improper care so he ends up operating a rescue out of his quarters. He's taken in everything from corn snakes to baby asian water monitors and on one very memorable occasion a surprisingly chill sidewinder.

He keeps it all very top secret, the only one he trusts is Laswell she takes care of feeding everybody when he's gone. It's not that he doesn't trust his team but it wouldn't be the first time he'd had a usually rational CO go ballistic. One time when he'd first enlisted and he was missing home, he'd found a little garden snake and was playing with it when his lieutenant at the time had seen, ordered him to attention and shot the poor snake in the head laughing as he did. He's learned the hard way that machismo doesn't mix well with his hobby.

Right now he's lined up a home for a little leopard gecko and a bearded dragon both with pretty bad mbd. A little more difficult to find a place for is the lavender false water cobra he's named Hugo and the 7 foot albino labyrinth burmese python he's calling Wee Man.

With the fish tank he's starting to get comfortable with the idea of bringing the team in on his escapades. But then Ghost shares his trauma with him and it terrifies him. He cannot let Ghost see his snakes, not because he's worried his Lt will hurt them, but because they'll hurt Ghost.

[asheronangel]

This is your sign to yap about your tmnt au

oh wait i wasn't actually expecting this now i don't know what to say- i'm just gonna. snatch the random stuff i rambled about on discord

full disclaimer that it is. not very developed yet! i haven't really figured out the plot, or the turtles entirely, so i'm mostly gonna yap about random details i hope that's okay (usually i avoid posting au's unless i deem them "finished enough" but uh that's never happened. so.)

so. in this au two of the turtles were made purposefully, and the other two accidentally (all four with the same ooze, but two were like,,, prepped for it beforehand, so the mutation sorta "assimilated" better with predetermined traits, while with the other two it ended up being more random)

read more because im yapping

donnie's a northern long/snake-necked turtle, mikey is an eastern box turtle, leo's a flordia softshell, and raph is a common snapper <- (this is also their height order)

they're used to wearing clothes in this au!! idk it just makes sense to me, that since splinter used to be human in this au and still wears clothes, he'd teach that to his sons, to an extent???

they don't mind being clothe-less (they do not bother with swimsuits), at least around family, because they are Turtles with nothing to see, but clothing allows them to express themselves!! and warmth, seeing as donnie's the only warm-blooded one and runs cold anyway

splinter has taken them to the surface since they were young, only after thoroughly scouting for a mostly secluded place, because the books splinter snatched said that children need things like sunshine and fresh air (or as fresh as new york can get, i guess? i don't know what the air is like there sorry guys. my only guess is that it's better than the sewers)

so they are used to being topside, watching the city from afar, but going to the surface alone for the first time ends up being a big deal for them as teens. that's when they end up meeting april!

they've known casey ever since they were all small, and casey definitely sees the turtles and splinter as his second family. he also calls leo a frog, as an inside joke to what tiny casey originally thought leo was

splinter wasn't a great dad when they were young. (he was sort of struggling with suddenly becoming a rat with four children, understandably) he didn't pay attention to them as long as he could find them when he looked. an incident ended up making him come to the reality that he's they're sole caretaker and he needs to step up, so he stole snatched a bunch of books on parenting and turtles and got way more invested in his sons' lives. current day turtles love their dad

age wise, technically nothing is set in stone for them except mikey being the youngest, since besides him the turtles developed too close together for splinter to figure out an age order. (like,, raph was the first to walk, but donnie was the first to talk, and none of them were really ahead of the others)

so oldest is based on the mood. raph was the oldest when they were tots, but that title slid on over to donnie over the years, and while leo can have older sibling energy, he rarely actually gets to Be the Oldest Sibling.

everybody knows raph has a sweet spot for mikey. he Will still carry him around even though mikey is taller.

if you have any specific questions, PLEASE ASK THEM! i probably won't have the answer, but it'll force me to figure the answer out, yknow? think about things i wouldn't have otherwise

have my first attempt at a mikey design as a thank you for sending an ask!!

[nerves-nebula]

The comments you got did say quite a lot already, so it was a little difficult, but I do know just a couple little details.

(This will be the shortest paragraph) 1987 Krang is a singular entity who is on Earth and partners with the Shredder. ('Partners' is more way than one, because their dynamic is reminiscent of an old married couple and they have multiple very gay moments too). Krang makes weird frog-esc croaking sounds while speaking, and controls a suit that looks like Captain Underpants, aka a bald dad bod baby. This version has the ability to enlarge both himself and his suit. The ship that he and the Shredder use is the Technodrome, which is on wheels and shoots lasers that destroy land. They hang out underground. They also have Bebop and Rocksteady as their sort of henchmen. The 1987 Krang constantly talks about how he has legions and armies of superior warriors in Dimension X where he came from, but I'm pretty sure we never really see them.

The Utrom (aka the 2003 Krang) focused on intelligence. They were an interstellar species from galaxies away that can live for eons and arrived on Earth in feudal Japan with their ship, proceeding to get stuck there for the next few centuries as they were too advanced for Earth's tech. They were fairly amicable to the humans there, but they find them disgusting. After being in physical contact with a human, even when in their metal suits (they wear metal suits that look like humans, much like the Krang Shredder's Oroku Saki suit) they go and get decontaminated in their HQ. It can be assumed they are like this to all life, or at least all life deemed below them in intellect, as we were shown their decontamination chambers and such in the modern day. Without their suits, they wear these metal disks that let them however, like the 2012 Krang, and when leaving their ship or metal suits, they tend to wear a glass dome, probably for protection against the Earth's environment. Unlike 2012, every Krang is their own person. The krang do however still have a leader, known as Mortu (they have their own names, but Mortu and The Shredder (Ch'rell) are the only ones we learn). They do not have a Dimension X or any equivalent, and are the only ones to be from this world as well as good guys (though they are assumed to be villains at first, and are misunderstood. They actually worked with Splinter's owner before he died, as this Splinter was the rat of a ninja).

The 2012 Krang are a hivemind, as is well known. However, they still have their own personalities, which usually minorly shines through in certain dialogues. They tend to speak very oddly and literally ('The Krang is the one who will be doing the kicking of the butt to the ones known as the turtles' is something they would say). However, they can still learn to speak normally, as proven by Krang Subprime, Krang Prime and the Utrom. The Utrom in 2012 is the original in that universe, who were taken over by the og Krang (Krang Prime) to become a hivemind which they weren't before. They are now a rebel group, who can all speak English properly and all tend to wear metal suits that look like humans. Bishop in the sort of leader of the Utrom here, unlike 2003 (2k3 Bishop was a villain who hated aliens). His suit is the one that the Krang copied and mass-produced, aka the men with slicked back hair and all black suits throughout 2012. The difference is that he usually wears shades. The krang tried to take over Earth since the dinosaurs were on it, and kept failing everytime. In this universe, they are the cause of humans, having mutated apes into them with prior ooze while trying to turn them into Krang to overtake the planet. This Krang also has a rivalry of sorts with the triceratons, who are triceratop based aliens who love violence. They've had many wars in the past.

I feel like I've went on too much so off I go noww enjoy

no no this is all fantastic, thank you for taking the time to write this up :)

[pencil-urchin]

Doodle of my Mirialan OC, Iria. She's a scholar--Peofessor of Cultural Anthropology/Archaeology, with a minor in Art History: all centered on what she calls "The Culture of Warfare" and how it defines and shapes those cultures which engage in war.

She also put herself through school as an exotic dancer in a not-very-nice place, like you do.

(Hold on because I'm about to word vomit)

***

She has a list of other skills and knowledges, but I don't want anyone crying "Mary Sue!" so a quick note:

All but a handful of her knowledge and abilities are skills I currently have or had at one point, and I promise I am not anyone's idea of a "Mary Sue."

These skills and achievements include:

-Multiple Advanced Degrees (I have an Associate's, a Bachelor's, and 3 Master's degrees)

-Art (I am a professional artist, and although I have a long way to go and a lot of room to improve, I have worked hard to get where I am, and obtained both an MA in Visual Development and an MFA in Concept Art in the process)

-Martial Arts (I stopped one test shy of a black belt when I was 17 because I started college)

-Fencing (I started fencing when I was 21, which is how I met my husband; we were both competitive until and somewhat during grad school, but now we mostly just coach)

-Music (clarinet and vocal primarily, then violin and piano for a short time)

-Writing (creative and academic, my second degree was in Literary Studies)

-Multilingual (I have studied Spanish, French, Latin, and Russian)

-Organization schemes/data analysis and curation (my first Masters was in Library Science, and I was a librarian for over ten years)

-Handling of rare/historic artifacts (I studied special collections, collection management, and rare books in my MLS)

-Cooking (my husband and I love cooking together)

-Fashion (as part of my MLS I worked in a designer and historic fashion archive)

-Metalwork (I have taken metalsmithing classes, worked as a jeweler's apprentice, and even got to try blacksmithing once upon a time)

-First Aid (through my first two years of grad school I was Healthcare Provider certified to offer assistance with CPR, use of a defibrillator, assisting with someone choking, etc)

-Emergency Response (for a while in my late teens, I participated in a program meant to prepare young adults for Firefighter I training, which included a rigorous exercise routine, specialized training in the use of emergency equipment, and learning the most basic foundations of Fire Science)

-Acting (listen I don't think I'm good, but I was in Improv as a kid, love to RP at the game table , and was even a mime once)

-Field Ecology (loved this class, caught so many snakes, frogs, turtles, and lizards: I do not do spiders or insects, and therefore neither do my characters)

Skills I ABSOLUTELY do not have that my OC has:

-social grace (I'm an awkward weirdo)

-physical grace (despite all I have done, I am so clumsy)

-beauty (I am a swamp witch without the swamp)

-confidence (see above)

-dancing (I did dance and drill team when I was in junior high, did swing choir in high school, did the "shimmy" belly dance workout, and took a pole-dance workout class once which was an absolute blast, but JFC I am NOT a dancer, I promise)

***

I'm sure there's more, but you get the idea. A multifaceted character with a collection of experiences that seem disparate isn't different from what we are IRL when we break ourselves down into a list like this. In addition to all the positives, I'm also old (35), neurodivergent and mentally-Ill.

So yeah, not a "Mary Sue."

[maranull]

Hi Mara!

Do you have any thoughts about how Elden Ring characters would be around pets? I had a few ideas for a one-shot fic and I was curious as to what your thoughts on such a topic would be.

Have a nice day!

Hi Bimbom! <3

I didn't but now I do. Normally headcanons are free, but from you I require payment in the form of the fic link when you write it. 🔫

I'm skipping some characters that I don't really care for or enjoy.

~

Blaidd: Very responsible owner. Trains all his pets fully, but he also treats their needs and wants at an equal level to his own, sometimes higher. He prefers shepherd dog breeds.

Yura: Likes birds. There's a small murder of crows that has taken a intense liking to him, and he always shares parts of his meal with them. But he mostly enjoys watching them from afar, caring for them fully is not his style.

Boc: He's that person that you know adores pets with a passion, but is always a bit scared and hesitant getting close. He doesn't have pets of his own, but his room is filled to the brim with various animal plushies.

D: Hates animals.

Diallos Hoslow: Tries his absolute best to seem indifferent and tough but in reality he adores them to death. He has quite the healing touch and is always on the lookout for animals in need, be they pets or wildlife.

Edgar: Begrudgingly accepted a dog in his halls when Irina was a little girl and he ended up being the main carer for it. He says he doesn't like dogs, but the dog also sleeps on his bed now, so...

Fia: Cat-person. Not very affectionate, but if a cat is around her, that cat is getting picked up and gently hugged.

Finlay: Not really an animal person, but she likes cats and has adopted hers. She only lets them decide when it's cuddle time.

General Radahn: Do I even need to say anything about this horsegirl? He's literally the horsegirl stereotype. That's it.

Gideon Ofnir: He likes owls and turtles. Owls hate him to the point of attacking him on sight. Turtles just avoid him like the plague.

Godfrey: Generally indifferent towards animals. Only likes them if they are powerful. He treats his lion decent, but only things of it like a tool of war, not a companion.

Godwyn the Golden: A pretty gentle type towards animals but often forgetful of their needs. He tries them almost like plushies and room decor. He loves them, just not that much.

Gostoc: Hurts any helpless animal he finds. He deserves the guillotine.

Gowry: Thinks pets are good food.

Hyetta: She likes animals, big dogs in particular. She doesn't have a want to own a pet herself, but will sometimes leave some food on the sidewalk for strays.

Iron Fist Alexander: He likes hamsters. Due to his size, he is extremely careful with them, and they like running rounds on his lid.

Latenna: She's politely gentle with most animals but she loves wolfs. She treats them similarly to Blaidd, as equals and often prioritizes her wolf's needs over hers.

Lunar Princess Ranni: She likes wolfs (shocker!). She acts cold and uninterested around people, but when alone with her wolfs they get all the scratches and belly rubs and treats and everything.

Malenia, Blade of Miquella: She likes cats. Their purring calms her down and gives her peace when she is feeling the Rot advancing.

Maliketh: He doesn't like animals, but Marika used to have a poodle that he ended up caring for, and he grew attached to it. He's not at all emotional and rarely pets it, but the poodle and him seem to have their own kind of understanding.

Morgott: He always loved seeing birds from the small windows in the looking outside the sewers. When he go out and earned the Omen King title, he ended up making multiple coops from any bird that passed through Leyndell.

Melina: She quietly loves every animal, but prefers to give them space and have them fend for themselves. Exceptions to that rule are Torrent and domesticated animals. Those she generally checks if they need anything, but she's not big towards petting.

Millicent: She likes frogs. She's generally pretty touchy with them, often resulting in her picking up a frog that she knows will irritate her hands despite of the fact. She likes lifting them close to her face and also does that to the few lands animals she might take interest.

Miquella the Unalloyed: He loves animals, the bigger the better. He can be pretty childish when petting them, but he also has them extremely well trained and cares for them in the best way possible.

Nepheli Loux: She loooooooves dogs of all shapes and sizes. She loves hugging them and when petting then, she often sits down to be as close to their eye level as possible.

Patches: Big fan of spiders. Doesn't really care for any other animal. Just spiders. He keeps a jar with a wolf spider on his luggage and he always takes time off his day to spent some time with her.

Radagon: Doesn't care at all. If he has to take care of a pet, he will give food and water and leave. Doesn't care.

Roderika: She loves small animals of any kind. She has a habit of rolling with the dogs and laying down next to cats while talking to them. She claims she understands them and maybe she do, cause animals tent to be more trusting towards her.

Rogier: He's quite the fan of birds and cats. He's very gentle with his affections towards them and has a lot of patience for bird watching, or waiting for a stray cat to approach him.

Rya: She likes snakes. Other animals scare her easily and she's generally skittish if they approach her.

Seluvis: Hates animals.

Thops: Adores cats and loves it when they jump on his lap when working. He friendly to other animals, but more out of politeness than actually interest.

Iji: A fan of wolves and loves the red big ones the most, since he can pet them properly with his hands. He can be rough with them, unintentionally of course, so he chooses to keep a distance from most animals.

Marika: She got a poodle out of pressure to seem aristocratic, but she doesn't care for land animals. When she was at sea, she loved dolphins and orcas.

Rennala: She adores wolfs and has no qualms of playing with them, despite her status. And while she's not a fan of cats, she has a chonky black cat that she spoils to the point of the poor animals being somewhat overweight.

Rykard: Big fan of snakes and reptilians in general. Goes above and beyond to find the absolute favourite food of every snake in his care.

~

5 hours. It took 5 hours for this. I am not checking spelling. I am not checking if it makes sense. Bimbom you made my brain a mush of pets, hope you're happy.

<3

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober Day 2:

"I'll call out your name, but you won't call back." 

Thermometer | Delirium | "They don't care about you." 

Fandom: ATLA (AU)

Prompt used: Title, Delirium, "they don't care about you."

Alright this ones short cause I rewrote it like three times… anywho, have some light Zuko angst. I'm gearing up for a little more intensity in day three so 😬. Beating up in first paragraph tw!

…

Another punch, right beneath his ribs, has bloody spittle flying from his mouth, choked air being the only sound accompanying the motion. He refuses to give them that satisfaction, to show that weakness here, they can beat him bloody and blue, but Zuko was once a crown prince, he's been through far worse than this.

Fire licks at his ankles, an angry yell filling the air. 

"Why do you protect them? What? It's not like they like you. They don't care about you. Why do you think they haven't come? You offered them an escape and they took it, each and every one of them. You are a Fire Bender Zuko, a Prince- Banished or not- you are alone. Tell me where the Avatar and the traitors went, and your misery can be over." Zhao has a crazed look in his eye, fire sparking across his finger tips. 

Zuko doesn't answer, spitting a glob of blood at the Admirals feet instead. It earns him an angry kick that has him finally falling to his knees, but he grins up anyway like he's won. Zhao can't seem to realize that Zuko knows they won't come. He's not worth it, Zuko knows this, all of what Zhao says. But they're all safe, and that was Zuko's priority. 

Zhao, seemingly fed up with Zuko's silence, waves a dismissive hand and the guard behind him knocks his weapon over Zuko's head, hard. The world fades around him, and he welcomes the momentary peace of the darkness. 

"You know Zuko, the writer of Love Amongst Dragons also wrote my least favorite poem."

His mothers stare is blank, sitting under the shadows of their tree, staring across the pond. Across her cheek is a bruise, uncovered but remnants of makeup still visible. Curled into her side, Azula sleeps, eyebrows furrowed. Zuko makes a noise to indicate his attention, trying not to ruin whatever this moment is.  

"Always pointing out what I lack

I can never tell your aim

It's not just your bags you pack

And I'll never be the same

Life on the rack

I'll call out your name

But you won't call back."

She pauses, but the poem seems to ring out in the following silence. 

"Do you know why it's my least favorite Zuko?" She answers before he can, "I always wanted true love… this poem, written by the same writer of my favorite play, reminds me to find the good." At this, she cups his cheek gently, careful not to disturb his sister, "You two. I hope you two can find love and happiness someday. Promise me, you'll never let anger rule you."

And Zuko, well how could he say anything else,

"I promise."

Zuko wakes with his mothers voice in his ears, and her hand in his hair, Azula's soft breaths filling the gaps. The performing frog and turtle duck are odd, and very dramatic, is that really the voices they'd have?? Zuko can only watch them idly, too tired to truly decipher if the animals before him exist or not. 

"...won't call back!" The turtle duck strikes a dramatic pose, tragically dejected. 

Huh… is… that what Zuko was doing? His mother told him to find happiness, so in his banishment, he'd turned a new leaf. His crew were basically pirates now, and they were actually helping the Avatar. He was doing good, but he supposed it was over now. He'd be taken back to his Father and punished for crimes against the throne, probably never see the light of day again. 

"You shall not reign any longer!" With a weird sun behind the Frog, he goes down with a downward strike of the Turtle Ducks wing. 

The thump of the frog is echoed by a louder thump that moves the surface beneath his cheek. His sight moves up slowly, blurry and doubled- the animals continue out his peripheral- to find a figure doing something at the cell door. They're not in red, rather tones of blue and gray, though he lets his sight fall again when his head throbs. It feels like he has two bad eyes, and the throbbing ache at the back of his skull is doing him no favors. He decides to go back to the animals, its easier.

It's only when feet go through the performance that he's reminded of the whole thing. Something hisses above him, and then theres a delicate touch at his nape,

"Hey buddy, we're gonna get you out of here. Your sister is scaring the guards now, and her friends are clearing a path, and the others are waiting at Oppa to get ya to your ship. Just uh… yeah let's move nice and slow." 

"But da 'urtle du' isnt f'nished yet." 

"... well, they can finish later." 

"M'kay."

[amat3ured1t0r]

this is a remake of the Masterpost for acid :3

Masterpost.

[Apart of @the-forgor-four-rottmnt]

I am The Last Ronin. Call me Ronin. I’m from the year 2045. My New York was taken over by The Foot and Oroku Hiroto and I was transported here. Now, I'm trying to get used to this modern world.

Anything with [this] is out of roleplay.

[WARNING! THIS BLOG CONTAINS SOME SWEARING, CRUDE HUMOR, KILLING, BLOOD, DEATH, ETC. THAT IS NOT SUITED FOR YOUNGER AUDIENCES!! PLEASE DO NOT REPORT ME FOR THIS AS THIS IS JUST A ROLEPLAY BLOG! THIS IS NOT HOW I ACT IRL!!!]

[If you want less swearing, go to one of my other accounts like @donniepedia-the-encyclopedia or my main account @acid-da-monster.]

[OOC: please do not look at old posts from earlier of February 11th 2024 and below. As of February 11th 2024, we have restarted the rp.]

!HOMOPHOBES, ZOOPHILES, RACISTS, T-CEST, P3DOS, ETC. DO NOT INTERACT!

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

-My Nieces & Nephews-

Moja - [Add tag]

Yi - [Add tag]

Uno - [Add tag]

-My brothers-

Raph - [Add tag]

Leo - [Add tag]

Donnie - [Add tag]

-*cough* CRUSH *cough*-

Shaka - [Add tag]

-The Rise universe-

Rise Leonardo- @leontheluxuriousone

Rise Raphael- @raph-reign17

Rise Donatello-

Rise Michelangelo- @mikey-the-mischevious

Rise Karai- @hamato--karai

Rise April- @aprilthefiercequeen

Cassandra- @thecassclan

Casey Jr- @hugzfromcaseyjr

Splinter- @rat-jitsu

-2012 universe-

2012 Leonardo - @captain-ryans-no1-fan

2012 Raphael - @im-a-turtle-with-anger-issues

2012 Donatello - @donniepedia-the-encyclopedia

2012 Michelangelo - @the-party-dude

2012 Karai - @karaiirl

2012 Casey - @goongala-hockey-puck

2012 April - @apriloneilcicierega

2012 Splinter - @a-wise-rat

Mona Lisa - @rokkarokkawaii

-2003 universe-

Leonardo - @leos-katanas

Raphael -

Donatello -

Michelangelo -

April -

Casey -

-Bad future Rise-

Leonardo - @ninjas-greatest-weapon

Raphael - @b1g-raph1e

Donatello - @genius-othello

Michelangelo - @marvelousmichelangelo

-Others-

Vivi - @Mikey-rottmnt

Stella - @stella-kessho-reporting-for-duty

Hiero - @riseleon

Paxxon - @pax-man2010

Usagi - @yokai-nerd

MJ - @traumatisedspider

Rosemary - @rosewater-n-rosemary

Valkyrie Fae - @valkyriefae1

Min - @the-shadow-creature

Noor - @the-light-creature

-Villains-

Oroku Saki- @leader-of-the-foot

Big Mama- @bigmama10fficial

Baron Draxum- @warr1ng-warr1or-sc1ent1st

Repo Mantis- @repo-maniac

Rena- @rena-hoshimi-at-duty

Cerulean- @the-frog-assassin

Kiki- @kikikatherinerosaline

Tiger Claw- @tigerclaw-takeshi

Bishop- @johnbishop03

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

-Secret draw box!!-

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

-Last Ronin 2 re-evolution headcanons-

Odyn

Moja

Uno

Yi

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@last-ronin here you go :3

you might have to redo the tags and colour it tho

but hey! you dont have to write it all-

oh ye remove this part (obviously)

[turtlethon]

"Dirk Savage: Mutant Hunter!”

Season 7, Episode 24 First US Airdate: December 4, 1993

A wealthy businessman starts an anti-mutant campaign that places the Turtles in danger.

Season seven of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles nears its conclusion with "Dirk Savage: Mutant Hunter!" As with most of the episodes during this stretch of the show, David Wise is credited as writer here.

The Turtles are investigating a series of appearances by a pair of mysterious creatures and are seen examining their footprints. Donatello remarks that since Shredder’s use of mutagen in the zoo “years ago”, new mutants have continued to appear in the city. This seems to be a call-back to the events of “Planet of the Turtleoids” that led to the creation of Groundchuck and Dirtbag. As that was in season five it’s true that for us as viewers it was a while back, but I believe this is the first time we’ve ever had in-universe confirmation that the events of the series have taken place over a period of several years.

Our heroes are alerted to a commotion at the nearby Crystal Palace Mall. Inside, a mutant wolf and turtle are terrorising shoppers. This duo will be familiar to anyone who’s seen the second live-action TMNT movie as Rahzar and Tokka respectively, though their characterisation here differs greatly from their movie appearances: rather than being BABIES – or, if you prefer, “stupid infants” - Rahzar is surprisingly eloquent while Tokkka sounds like... Beavis? I’m gonna go with Beavis. The Turtles valiantly take on these two new mutants but are outmatched, with both Leonardo and Michaelangelo going through the windows of one of the mall’s restaurants.

An interesting facet of Rahzar’s portrayal here is that from the outset it’s established he cares deeply for Tokka and considers him to be his only friend. Upon seeing Raphael and Donatello fight Tokka, Rahzar becomes furious, smashing the mall’s supporting pillar. Having left the complex in ruins, the two mutants escape; the Turtles emerge from the crumbling shopping centre but find their new enemies are long gone.

Later, in the Lair, the Turtles watch a broadcast on Channel 6. AJ Howard, an “eccentric billionaire”, is allowed to go into an anti-mutant diatribe in which he blames the many half-human, half-animals who have appeared in the city not only for the recent destruction of the mall, but for hurting the local economy and driving out business. He goes on to mention that the completion of his new skyscraper, the Howard Building, has been postponed until the mutant issue is dealt with. Beyond that, he has launched a full-on anti-mutant campaign, including promotional “down with mutants” wristbands. Announcing the next phase of his program, he introduces Dirk Savage, a burly and heavily armed man with an eyepatch who he declares is a “professional mutant hunter”.  

Savage boasts about his intention to track down “every last one of you freaks”, a vow that understandably rattles the Turtles. The broadcast ends with AJ Howard encouraging citizens to request Savage’s services by way of a special hotline, 555-NO MUTANTS.

The Turtles head to Channel 6 and request April and Irma’s help in learning about Dirk Savage. April isn’t able to find much beyond him being “a professional soldier of fortune... he’s fought for governments all over the world!” Irma provides further details about Savage’s allegiances, noting that he typically fights against “rebels, misfits and other outcasts”. While at the station offices our heroes receive an incoming Turtlecom transmission from Napoleon of the Punk Frogs, who has just arrived in town with Genghis. It only takes a matter of seconds before Genghis manages to get his foot caught in a laser trap. From the bushes emerges Dirk Savage, who swiftly captures both frogs and carries them away.

Our heroes head to the spot where the Punk Frogs were captured, and determine this was indeed Savage’s doing: in a nod to the weariness that viewers may have been feeling after seven seasons of new supporting characters being introduced, Raphael notes that there are “eight zillion mutants in this series and [Savage] captures two of the good ones!” With no clear plan on what to do next, the team head back to the Lair to request Splinter’s advice.

Savage is seen transporting the Punk Frogs in his personalised truck to a special facility, where several mutants can be seen imprisoned in energy cages. The mutant hunter checks in with AJ Howard, who reminds him that the Turtles are still free: Savage assures his boss that capturing them is his top priority.

Splinter tells the Turtles that he senses Dirk Savage may be the key to solving their problem, and that they should focus on convincing him to change his ways by showing him his hatred for mutants is the result of ignorance. Later, while wandering the sewers, the Turtles discuss these words of wisdom. Donatello and Raphael are unconvinced by the idea that Savage can be reasoned with. Michaelangelo is then pulled into the air and captured in an enormous electromagnet, which Donnie helpfully explains has him “by the buckles of his bandoliers!” Before the team can free him, Dirk Savage appears, a gun in each hand and set to capture his enemies, as act one wraps up.

Act two opens with Savage angering the Turtles by calling them “mutant scum”. He attempts to capture all four members of the team, but after restraining Leonardo is pounced upon by Raphael and has a stream of water sprayed on him by Donatello from a nearby pipe. Ultimately the mutant hunter retreats, taking the tied-up Leo and Mikey with him. As he loads the two Turtles into the back of his truck, he makes a point of relieving them of their Turtlecoms, crushing the devices with his bare hands. Donnie and Raph head to the Turtle Van to give chase, but are alerted to further developments from April, who asks that they return to the station as Irma has made a major discovery.

Savage presents Michaelangelo and Leonardo to AJ Howard. The two Turtles are understandably furious and refuse to comply, but the billionaire forces them to don “compliance cuffs” - arm restraints that compel anyone wearing them to do his bidding. Napoleon, Genghis and the other assembled mutants can only look on as Leo and Mikey are brought to their knees. Meanwhile, Irma reveals her discovery to the Turtles: that Howard used to own a genetics lab which was suddenly closed, coinciding with the wealthy businessman’s disappearance for more than a year. (We can only take Irma’s word for this, as the report which appears on-screen contains no relevant information and seems to just be letters of the alphabet in sequence.)

While April and Irma are helping the Turtles, Vernon goes on-air with an editorial segment. Professing his allegiance to AJ Howard, he rails against the “nasty creatures” supposedly taking over the streets, before revealing that more than half of the city’s residents now wear the billionaire’s anti-mutant bracelets. Raphael is keen to give Vernon a piece of his mind, but is convinced to direct his energy elsewhere, as Donatello intends to infiltrate the mutant holding facility. Meanwhile, April and Irma will investigate the site of Howard’s in-construction skyscraper.

Donnie and Raph visit Mondo Gecko, making his first appearance since his debut two years earlier. As per the conclusion of that adventure he appears to still be residing in the sewers as a neighbour of sorts to the Turtles. Upon learning of the activities of Howard and Savage, Mondo agrees to assist, angered by the capture of his good friend Michaelangelo.

Savage places a table of food in an alley, luring Tokka and Rahzar into the open. This turns out to only be partially successful, as he’s able to capture the snapping turtle but not his partner. After escaping, Rahzar can only watch from a nearby rooftop as Tokka is loaded into the back of Savage’s vehicle and transported away; enraged by the loss of his buddy, he vows revenge before howling at the moon. On his way back to the mutant detainment facility Savage also encounters and captures Mondo Gecko. This time Donnie and Raph are ready, and follow the mutant hunter in the Turtle Van.

As April and Irma arrive at the Howard Building, which is covered in an enormous sheet and surrounded by guards, Donnie and Raph watch Savage unload his mutants at the facility. After he leaves again our heroes use a vent to gain entry to the mutant detainment building. Inside, they watch – along with the captive Leo and Mikey, as well as the other jailed mutants – as AJ Howard places his special cuffs on Mondo Gecko and Tokka. After an off-hand remark from Mondo about how the billionaire will never be able to kill destroy the city’s entire population of mutants, Howard reveals that isn’t his intent, and that his captured prey will serve as his own personal army. The assembled mutants are shocked as Howard removes his rubbery face mask to show his true form: that of a half-man, half-slug.

The impact of Howard’s revelation is watered down considerably by the fact that when we return for the concluding act, he’s seen pulling off his mask again, this time spouting new dialogue as he does so about being not only a mutant, but the greatest one of all. He further explains that it was an accident in his genetics lab that led to his current form (hence his year-long disappearance alluded to by Irma earlier). Donnie and Raph emerge to confront Howard, but through his compliance bracelets the slug turns the jailed mutants against them, forcing the two Turtles to retreat to their van. With his true intentions now known, Howard declares that he needs to implement the next phase of his plan immediately and marches off with his new mutant army.

Donatello is beginning to warm up to the idea suggested by Splinter earlier about Dirk Savage acting as a potential ally. From a phone booth, he calls the hunter’s hotline and leaves a message indicating that two mutant turtles have been spotted. Meanwhile April and Irma watch as Howard relays a message to the guards surrounding his building, informing them that as the mutant issue has been dealt with, they can stand down. With the coast clear, the two ladies sneak inside, finding what initially appears to be a relatively innocuous building.

Savage takes the bait, arriving at a fish market to find Donatello and Raphael. Before he can capture them Rahzar intervenes, still livid at the capture of his friend. The Turtles battle the mutant wolf, ultimately using one of Savage’s own restraining weapons to deal with their foe. It’s only after being saved by Donnie and Raph – and subsequently lectured by them about how not all mutants are bad – that Savage learns he was working for a villainous slug-man the entire time.

AJ Howard guides his army to his new skyscraper, revealing that its true name is not the Howard Building but rather the Mutant Building, a towering statue of his true form mounted on its roof. As he pulls away the sheets at ground level, April and Irma have made it to the top, and head inside to find a control room. Donnie and Raph are informed of this discovery and head off with Savage to confront the bad guys.

Michaelangelo and Leonardo are taken to the top floor by Howard with the other mutants, and due to the compliance cuffs are forced against their will to capture April and Irma. Both ladies are made by Howard to wear his “Down with Mutants” cuffs: far from being a mere propaganda tool, the slug reveals these are miniature versions of the restraints worn by his army. Soon, he announces, they’ll be used to bring everyone in the city wearing them under his control. Across town at Channel 6, Vernon is seen gushing about the bracelets to a surprisingly wary Burne Thompson. As the bracelets are powered up April’s rival is seen marching out of the room, his boss furious at the idea of him taking orders from anyone else.

Dirk Savage is also wearing one of Howard’s anti-mutant bracelets, which activates as he flies the Turtle Blimp, accompanied by Donnie and Raph. Despite this setback the team manage to open fire upon Howard’s statue, and the resulting destruction of the control room breaks the control of the bracelets over the humans who had been wearing them. Howard still has sway over the mutants, but only temporarily – it doesn’t take long for Savage to snatch the control unit out of the hands of his old boss and destroy it.

A further complication arises as the building begins to shake. Howard reveals that the explosion which destroyed the control room must have overloaded the building’s power generators. Donatello drops a dizzying number of ropes from the Turtle Blimp, allowing everyone to fly away safely before the entire skyscraper blows up.

Later, Savage makes a brief apology for the way he’s treated the assembled mutants, pledging to try and understand them in the future and offering his help if needed. Michaelangelo suggests this is almost a happy ending, but something is still missing: the Punk Frogs then step in, offering to buy the Turtles a jumbo pizza, and this is enough for Mikey to now be entirely satisfied.

Michaelangelo might be content with this conclusion, but I’m considerably less impressed. For the most part “Dirk Savage: Mutant Hunter!” is an exceptional episode even by the standards of what has been a surprisingly strong season. While the series was set up around the premise that the wider world would be hostile to the Turtles – in this continuity that was established from the outset as the reason Splinter trained them to be ninjas, a means of defending themselves rather than to kill Shredder – only season three’s “Turtles on Trial” explored this idea in depth. In the years that followed, the Turtles became real-world celebrities who spent more time selling cereal, raising awareness of public transportation and going on tour as musicians than they did being depicted as underdogs struggling in a world that didn’t understand them. Arguably this fed back into the series, as the team have spent years wandering around mostly without disguises, meeting little resistance from the residents of the city and often being treated as celebrated heroes. It’s only here – in the seventh season of the show, as the need for the Turtles to serve as real-world pitchmen and role models for hire fades away, that we begin to see a re-alignment take place, freeing the team to become ninjas who reside in the shadows once more. To that end, here we return to the idea of a media-driven narrative turning opinion against the Turtles. These themes felt worryingly prescient when I wrote about them in the Turtlethon entry for “On Trial” a few years back and viewed through the lens of this episode seem just as relevant to our real-world political and cultural climate now. The difference is that while the season three approach to this story resulted in an effective story with an ending that felt all too plausible, this one manages to stumble right before making it over the finish line.

I don’t know what it is about season seven: for some reason the overarching theme for this year seems to have been terrific stories that invariably wind up with half-baked, unsatisfying conclusions. (Baxter’s final appearance is the most obvious example of this.) Whereas Clayton Kellerman’s insistence on continuing to profit by directing hate at the Turtles even after being saved by them felt all too real, here Dirk Savage’s willingness to cast aside his hatred of mutants so readily comes across as entirely inauthentic. Far worse than this, though, is AJ Howard’s fate being omitted from the end of the show completely. Did he feel any remorse for treating the mutants the way he did? Was his perspective changed after being saved from the exploding buildings by the Turtles, or would he simply vow to get revenge? We’ll never know, and it’s one of the great missed opportunities that this villain – part Ross Perot with his pie charts and presumably paid TV broadcasts, part Richard Nixon in voice and general demeanour – didn't get used again. I could easily envision an alternative direction for seasons eight through ten where it’s Howard who becomes the main villain of the series as Shredder and Krang fade into the background, a cartoon counterpart to Null from the Archie TMNT Adventures continuity whose influence and power make life much harder for the Turtles.

Comparisons to “On Trial” notwithstanding, there’s no shortage of other things going on here that are genuinely interesting. The revelation that Shredder’s schemes led to the creation of a variety of unseen mutants is intriguing, but even here there’s a sense that much more could have come of this: we see several mutants in this adventure who are all original designs, but they could so easily have been existing characters from the Archie comics or the toy line. It’s not hard to imagine the likes of Scratch, Panda Khan or Halfcourt receiving cameos here, or even Ace Duck finally getting some proper screen time. At least we get guest appearances from Tokka and Rahzar, albeit years after their debut in The Secret of the Ooze. This is more relevant to Turtlethon entries for the live-action movies – which I still intend to do before this project is over – but the inclusion of this duo in the cartoon after so long feels particularly odd given that they were effectively an unsuccessful attempt to outdo its own Rocksteady and Bebop. Perhaps Playmates were keen to have Tokka and Rahzar incorporated into the show, as both did have a couple of action figures at retail during this period.

Without a doubt this episode is going on the Required Viewing list, but with the caveat that as good as it is, it had the potential to be something far greater than what we ultimately received. We say goodbye to the remaining Punk Frogs and Mondo Gecko here for the last time, with the conclusion of season seven and the classic era of TMNT looming on the horizon. Before then our attention must turn back to the Technodrome Crew for the subject of the next entry, “Invasion of the Krangazoids”.

[magnetiix]

There was a muffled chirp. By now it would be a familiar sound to Blues though in the moment it sounded almost frustrated. It was strained and accompanied with faint shifting of metal through freshly fallen snow.

Still these sounds were so soft that one would have to listen so very carefully to catch them and if that person were to glance in the direction of these chirps they would see a flash of red and faint glimmer of green rising and falling in the snow.

The petit kerog was so small and despite there only being a few inches of snow it still took all he had to push through it. This was only made worse with him dragging something. Using all his strength whenever it got caught in the powdery snow until he eventually reached the street. With one final tug it was pulled free and the sphere like frog was sent bouncing and tumbling with distraught chirps as it gripped the bright red flower it was dragging

The little frog rolled until he eventually struck Blues' foot. Dizzy and forced to recalibrate the stunned robot kicked its little feet, rocking like a turtle caught on his back before he finally righted himself. Recalibration took only a moment more and soon he was back to his excited chirps, very much pleased that he had managed to find the bot he was looking for all while dragging the gift.

A gift that had at one time been a poinsettia. Ruby red and beautiful in full bloom. In passing Shadow had taken a moment to admire the color contrasting against a world blanketed in white. The color reminded him of Blues and for a brief moment that reminder had his core humming out.

It was all a passing thought a passing feeling that he tried to push back. One that he didn't realize was picked up by the lesser unit who had spent the evening chewing away at the stem to liberate it from the rest of the plant long after Shadow had left.

Unfortunately, by this point after being dragged through the snow it had lost most of its petals and the stem was broken in many places. That didnt stop the little frog from proudly hoping in place as if it didn't already have Blues' attention.

It was cold, and dark. Snow had started falling a while ago, and was still falling - not too heavily, but long enough that a decent layer had built up on the streets. The world was quiet and muffled by the blanket of white, and Blues stopped, momentarily, to marvel in the lights that had been strung up around the streetlamps over the past few days as they turned on.

That little, frustrated squeak drew his attention immediately, as it always did. He turned, already feeling an odd tugging in his chest at the noise, one that only increased as his eyes landed on the tiny Kerog dragging a... flower. Blues stilled, not moving as the little one tumbled to a stop at his feet. Slowly, hesitantly, he bent down, scooping the Petit Kerog up in gentle hands, flower in tow.

Though it was crumpled and badly damaged by now, it wasn't hard for him to identify the poinsettia by what few striking red petals remained. A Christmas flower...?

For him?

"...From Shadow?" He asked the unit cradled in his palms. The thought itself brought with it yet another sudden tug at his core. It was stronger this time, strong enough for him to instinctively draw his hands to his chest with a sharp inhale and brace himself for a pain that, much to his surprise, didn't come.

Haltingly, he pulled his hands away, stroking the little one apologetically on the head for unintentionally squeezing it against his body. Just like...

The tugging blossomed into a fluttering warmth, one that left him standing breathless and wide-eyed on the street.

He stared down at the Kerog in his hands for several moments, before carefully raising it to his face and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of its head.

"...Thank you," he whispered to the baby frog.

There was no doubt its Master would learn of this sooner or later.

...That was fine.

[raitrolling]

Decrescendo

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

The main couch in Vallis’ hive was not the most comfortable place for two trolls to sit together on, by virtue of the fact that there was barely any room to begin with. The seadweller cuspblood loved his plush sea creatures, and while they tended to be spread out amongst the residential portions of his hive, many made their home on the very couch that was intended for guests to sit on. It would make sense - and was quite common - for visitors to move the plushies onto the floor so they had space to relax, but throughout the night Celise’s head had been somewhere else. 

The giant isopod digging into their back didn’t bother them, nor did the turtle squashed under their backside, or the blue-ringed octopus that had fallen off the back of the couch and landed on their shoulder, or the clownfish and sea stars that tickled their legs when they moved to put both feet on the couch after Vallis had left the room to feed his aquarium pets - as he had forgotten to before Celise arrived. They kept their feet elevated thanks to the combination of the couch arm and a whale shark, and underneath their legs was a manta ray. A plush lobster was precariously balanced on the back of the couch as well, perhaps the only thing in the room still watching the documentary playing on the television.

Ordinarily, Celise would have also left the couch to follow after the seadweller when he was tending to his pets, watching his every move and taking notes of every last gesture, trying to decipher the meaning behind the sea creatures he collected and what kind of personality that would suggest to the audience if he were a character in their movie plots, the ways in which this setting could be utilised in the horror genre. Tonight, for some reason they were slowly piecing together, they had no desire to watch.

The more they were granted the opportunity to hang out with Vallis in a casual setting, and the more they noticed the shifts in his behaviour that strayed from their previous observations of him, the more they realised it.

They no longer found him interesting. In fact, they don’t think they felt any sort of attraction towards him at all.

Celise didn’t think this revelation was a sudden flip of a switch, more like something that was slowly building up over time. Small things here and there, and not just the strange discrepancies the frog troll had long since given up on tracking. It wasn’t the way they could have sworn his physical appearance had warped over the course of a sweep, the way he smiles a little too wide and glows a little too brightly. And it wasn’t his more unusual behavioural quirks either, not the way he picked up the habit of humming and how Celise always felt a little hazy if they listened too closely. It wasn’t even the incident from about a perigee or so ago, in which they suddenly passed out in his hive and could hardly recall the following nights other than the fact that Tuuya had brought them to a hotel outside of town.

No, it was a fundamental change in his personality that they were certain was only a recent development.

Vallis was… Strange, scatterbrained, and very easily excitable; all traits Celise had noted down, but were definitely not to this extent. He had a hive full of cute plushies, and - apart from the misplaced scalpels scattered around, - nary an indication of his true, darker nature in sight. When he’d taken Celise on a tour around his laboratory there were no signs of mad scientist scribblings, no traces of morally corrupt experiments that he had once explained to them, just… Ink. Ink, and some scattered notes about biomedical engineering. 

He’d given up on everything that Celise thought made him interesting. No more talks about his studies on mutants, no more strange obsessions with some squid he’d found in the Harbour, just small cheery discussions about his current research into helping Epsilo regrow his fins. The passion for science was still very much there, but the topics were just so boring. 

They had spent sweeps picking Vallis’ brain for horror movie inspiration, flagging him down whenever possible, and even using force when necessary. They may be multiple castes below him, but they still could shove him up against the bookshelves of the library and demand his full attention when required. And while it was not for naught because of all the research notes they received off him, the fact that their affections towards him had completely fizzled away just felt so… So… 

Disappointing. Which, to them, was worse than outright hatred or disgust, though it’s not as if they were the type to feel such things.

They shifted position on the couch as they could feel their back starting to ache, knocking a couple plushies off and revealing one that was hidden under a manta ray pillow pet - A purple hyena. 

A plushie that Vallis would have bought because of Epsilo.

Epsilo, Epsilo, Epsilo. Always a name that constantly leaves the scientist’s mouth, to the point where Celise wonders if it’s possible for him to not mention the other seadweller at least once every few sentences. Vallis’ best friend, his research partner, the one who is always visiting and never seems to leave his side. Whenever he’s around, Celise can’t get anywhere near the troll they once loved. 

They reached over to pick up the plushie, staring into its black beaded eyes. Ever since Epsilo showed up, Vallis has been different. They’re certain of it.

Just- What is his problem, anyway? Why did he think Vallis needed to be fixed? He was fine before, when it was just him and Celise, and he’d tell them about all the experiments he’d done. All the ways to butcher trolls. How it feels to slice into the flesh of someone who is still alive. What experiments had been done in the past to test the limits of the troll body, and how his research is perfectly sanctioned in the eyes of the Empire. The blithe disregard for the feelings of others, and a single-minded pursuit towards his goal. Everything sick, everything twisted, everything beautiful about the psychological profile of a horror villain, all coalescing into their perfect muse.

Their grip tightened around the neck of the hyena, nails clawing into its plush polyester fabric. 

Vallis definitely was not as scatterbrained before he met Epsilo. He was eccentric, but he wasn’t this ditzy. He was dangerous. Cruel intentions behind a sweet smile, a passion for the goals driving him down darker and darker paths. But Epsilo had defanged him, turned him away from a path that Celise found too fascinating for words. 

Their fingers twist around the fabric of the plush. They feel their heart start to race, the room feeling hotter, the sound of static in their ears. They want to hurt it. They want to hurt him. He needed to know he ruined the one they loved. They could saw off his edges like what he did to Vallis. Take the axe that feels heavy in their hands but fits perfectly in their grasp and plunge it into his chest over, and over, and over- 

“Celise?!” 

The teal-blue cusp stopped. Vallis was suddenly in the room. When did he get back?

“Ah. That’s my- Why did you do that?” 

The look on the seadweller’s face is one that Celise has never seen on him before. Eyes wide in shock, the slant of his eyebrows suggesting feelings of despair, the corners of his mouth pulling downwards with trembling lips. Even his tiny fins seemed to droop. It was a look of absolute distraught, but why would it be aimed at them? They didn’t say anything to warrant such a reaction, and if they didn’t know he was here, they couldn’t have done anything to him.

They look over at him curiously, studying every minute detail of his expression, the way his hands are awkwardly posed as if he was going to reach out but hesitated, the movement of his mouth to say something but failing to find the words. Then they looked down.

In their hands was the plush. The hyena had been beheaded, and the disembodied head was in their other hand. They screamed, and tossed the two pieces of the plush in Vallis’ direction.

“That- I didn’t do that! I don’t- I don’t know what happened. It was, um- It was in one piece when I picked it up!” 

They were frantic. The room began to feel hotter again. How did it-? They don’t remember tearing the plush apart, they couldn’t have done it! Why would they do that? Their vision was blurring, the room was spinning. They wouldn’t ruin one of Vallis’ plush toys. They wouldn’t hurt anyone. That’s not who they are, so it couldn’t have been them!

Vallis scooped up the broken hyena off the floor, and cradled it in his arms. It was one of his favourite non-cephalopod plushies, because it reminded him so dearly of his friend. He was quite clearly upset, but also very confused by Celise’s reaction, to the point where he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand why his friend acted so violently, it’s not like they ever hated him - did they? He swallowed the desire to sing out the sadness in his heart, as he couldn’t let his eldritch abilities mess with his friend’s mind once again. But still, the room itself seemed to reverberate his emotional state, the air shifting with palpable melancholy. The humming of a nearby aquarium tank’s motor seemed to whisper to the two trolls in the room- What did you do? Why did you hurt him? Who is to blame?

Celise stood up, looking Vallis in the eye with a panicked gaze. The scene was moving too quickly for them, the room was too hot and too loud, they couldn’t recognise the sad creature mourning the broken plush as the troll they knew, everything is wrong, wrong, wrong- 

They shook their head, trying to rid their mind of the questions swirling around their mind, and fled the scene. Their emotions were still running hot for reasons they did not - or would not - understand. The same thoughts circled their mind as they ran through the town, the cold rain pouring overhead not providing them with any reprieve, their footfalls on the cobblestone roads becoming increasingly heavier with each step.

What did they do? They did nothing, they were just holding the stupid plush toy, why would they break it?

Why did they hurt Vallis? They did not, they don’t know why he was so upset. It was just a stupid toy, and- They could never hurt someone, they’re not that strong or violent and they can’t stand seeing blood or holding their strife weapon or anything that betrays their demure appearance. 

Who is to blame? Who else? Who showed up here for no reason, who never leaves Vallis alone whenever he’s around, who thinks they know better than everyone else, who acts so dismissively towards them and makes something threaten to ignite their chest and their hands to itch for the smooth handle of a weapon to hold and swing at them or to force Vallis to return to his senses so that he can go back to being the perfect subject of Celise’s obsessions and-

The heel of one of the cuspblood’s shoes catches between the gaps of two cobblestones, causing their ankle to twist and the rest of their body to crash to the ground, hard. They let out a cry of pain, and immediately moved to pull themselves back onto their feet. Their stockings had torn open and their knees got scraped in the fall, their hair was plastered to their face from the rain, their body was simultaneously aching and tense all over, and their lungs threatened to start hyperventilating from how hard they were breathing. But that was all irrelevant to them, as they only had one thing on their mind.

They needed to find Epsilo.

[corndoggod]

Turtles

Passing this turtle in the hallway whenever I left the apartment was a daily ethical conundrum, Cale said. The turtle in question was housed in a plastic tub of dirty water, choking on its own sewage, in a terrible building Cale used to live in. I helped him move in and we scuttled all his belongings, including his mattress, up and over the sad, helpless turtle, which did not move at all. The turtle belonged to the family across the hall, but no one seemed to feed it.

I could’ve put it in the pond in prospect.

That’s probably where it came from.

Maybe it was more like a lobster and they were waiting for a special occasion.

Celina pointed at me. Remember Ang’s rogue turtle? The one she found on the street.

Yeah didn’t she find someone who specializes in rescuing turtles.

Was it a turtle or a tortoise or a box turtle? Cale interjected.

A box turtle? I said

It was a turtle, Celina insisted.

There’s always the reintegration problem, Cale went on. Do you remember what kind of turtle it was because it matters. **A lot**.

Where was this?

Brooklyn.

If you get out of the city there’s a lot of turtles. Celina pointed at me and said remember that place we couldn’t swim in because humans poisoned it with their deodorant and sunblock? That used to be swarming with turtles.

(I remember the day well. On the drive out, I stopped to buy a twelve pack. It was 11am and the cashier asked me if everything was ok at home. I was taken aback. Was I giving divorced dad spiraling energy? Did I look that rough? But I said yeah, everything is good back home.  Oh good, he said. I know so many people whose homes flooded.)

Have I told you the story of the snapping turtle? Cale asked.

Celina shook her head.

I must’ve told you he said looking at me.

I don’t think so.

You remember the cove at my Dad’s cabin? I didn’t, but Cale visited the cove every day. A bullfrog lived in that cove and Cale heard him call out every morning and every night. He responded to the call and started grooming the bullfrog. Gave him little pets. Set him on his thigh. Spent quality time like that.

I go to show Anthony -- I don’t even like Anthony -- but I went to show him my frog friend anyway. But when we got to the cove, the frog was swimming in a circle like this, Cale said digging at the air with his torso turnt as if blindly rummaging around in a high closet shelf.   And it’s guts we’re just spilling out, he said gripping his spleen. And it was surrounded by these two snapping turtles -- **who I also knew, and hated** -- were pecking at my frog friend.

At the time I always carried a net. You know, like SpongeBob.

Ok Huck Finn, Celina cooed. Celina loved a Huck Finn. All I had to do was roll my jeans up high and walk around bare foot with my chest out and eat a can of worms.

I started stabbing the snapping turtles with my net and then I gently scooped out the frog, guts and all. I took my knife out and cut into one of its organs, and out swam a baby turtle.

An inner turtle, Celina mused.

It wasn’t really an inner turtle, Cale said. It was a dead baby turtle. All gray and stuff.

So it ate one of their babies and that’s why they attacked? I asked.

No it was actually a baby box turtle. That’s what was weird about it.