#rottmnt mystic weapons

[sweeneydino]

Intrusive thoughts

[lynnfactordesigns]

I've been drawing an AU where the guys get bending powers from their mystic weapons and I'm so excited to share it with you!

Waterbender Leo stickers are available on my redbubble now. Should I pin him, too? Let me know what you think!

[sariphantom]

Rise August 2024 Day 4: (Mystic) Weapons

Instead of drawing the turtles with their mystic weapons I decided to draw the mystic weapons THEMSELVES to save time.

[explodingstarlight]

i did it. i drew edgy Mikey. my sacred duty as a MCR listener is complete <3

[see the OG edit and post link below!]

behold, the OG post and the edit link: X

gives immaculate chaotic vibes, he had to be drawn

[possumsarenice]

I’ve seen some people make some “What if the 2012 and 2018 turtles switched and grew up in the others’ world” AUs, but imagine if you will “2012 or 2018 Splinter has eight sons instead of four” aka, Splinter bought the 2012 AND 2018 turtles in the pet store or in 2018 Barron Draxum added 4 more turtles to his roster. In either universe the eight grow up as siblings. That is some chaos I’d love to see

[skillzissue]

Babies first staples <3

-Picture by April o’ Neil

[matthiashamato]

Fun facts about my scythe!

I’ve nicknamed it Jeremy

I use it more often to sit on than fight with

It is still surprisingly sharp despite how many times I’ve dug it into the ground

I don’t know how to use it. Like almost at all. When we got our new mystic weapons everyone else got something at least slightly similar to what they were using. How the fuck am I supposed to go from rope + bo-kunai to a scythe?????

I love Jeremy anyways

[donn-draws]

Why I Think Not Giving Donnie A Mystic Weapon Was A Good Choice

There are many practices in the ROTMNT fandom, and one of the many arguments is over the mystic weapon offered to Donatello in the very first episode. Of course, he doesn’t take it and its never brought up again, seeming to just be a little gag. But I believe this moment tells us a lot about Donnie’s ninpo.

Unlike his brothers, Donnie doesn’t have a clear ability throughout most of the show. He mainly does things through his tech, afraid of what would happen if it was forgotten about and replaced with magic. He eventually integrates mystics into his work. Eventually his ability is revealed to be just this: being able to effortlessly combine magic and tech.

My theory is that he’s always been able to do this. That his powers appeared years before his brothers. And that he didn’t take the conduit for his powers because he already built one himself.

Haven’t you noticed how Donnie’s tech always appeared advanced and even supernatural? Yes, this could be explained by a natural genius and a special interest in machines that bred hard work and creativity, spawning these amazing contraptions. But its so specifically made to fit the magic of his brothers and enemies that I believe this was caused by an early hatching of his ninpo. And haven’t you noticed the purple glow coming from many of these creations? Maybe the reason that he never needed the weapon offered to him to conduit his power because his bō was working fine.

The reason I am going out and saying this is because people are claiming that Donnie has the least amount or weakest magic from all of his brothers. The fact is that, according to my theory, he has magic even equatable to Mikey’s, the actual mystical lord of the family.

Anyway, thank you for reading my essay, and I do hope you have a great day.

[extrasfromthevoid]

Draxum's Accidental Child Acquisition (part 1/?)

@tmntbestsibscompetiton

Summary: How Milo (though that's not yet her name) found her way into the Hidden City and into the care of the one and only Baron Draxum

OR Draxum's adventures in parenting.

----

In an innermost back alley of New York City, there is a very bored girl.

The plain red ball she’d been given—or found, she doesn’t remember—is nice, but she’s running out of games she can play on her own with it and there’s no one around to play with her.

She picks up the ball once again as it rolls back to her feet from where she kicked it against the brick wall.

The city around her thrums with activity, but the late hour means that there’s no one around.

How did this lone child end up in the depths of New York City alone? Well, even she doesn’t know that. It doesn’t matter to her anyway as the sole thought at the forefront of her mind is that she is incredibly bored.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a curious flicker of light in the corner of her eye. Looking up, a curious orb of light zips over her head.

Mesmerized, the rubber ball drops from her hands as she reaches up for the light. It weaves gracefully through her fingers before darting away, its pale blue light pulsing cheerfully. Without hesitation, she chases after it, heedless of the rubber ball bouncing away behind her, quickly abandoned.

The orb zips around the corner into a nearby alley and—strangely—through the wall behind a dumpster. She—being two and a half by generous estimates—didn’t even notice as she crossed a threshold from the surface city, to the hidden one. — She loses sight of the fun orb pretty quickly, but new wonders catch her attention pretty quickly as what once seemed to her to be a quiet city now explodes with light, life, and color. The toddler twirls around with wide eyes, trying to take in as much of her new environment as possible.

And boy is it a change from before. The surface city was quiet in its own way, save for the sounds of traffic and the occasional dog. She didn’t know, but it was late enough that it was now early, and while the City That Never Sleeps certainly lives up to its name, its comparatively sleepy early morning state can’t hold a candle to the sensory explosion of the underground city.

Giggling, she starts to run down the streets, weaving between the fascinating people walking around. She’s never seen such a fun place before! People walk around with extra sets of arms, horns, tails, wings, and all manner of skin colors and textures, and so much more!

The air smells of hot, spiced food, carts zoom through the air, pulled by creatures she can’t identify. Everything around her hums with life and energy.

It's exciting!

She pushes past two people to reach a balcony over looking a glittering city that follows the curves of the cavern and shining with all the colors of the rainbow.

She stands on the base of the railing though her chin only barely makes it over the top.

“Uh...who’s kid is that…?”

“Dunno. Do you see any panicked parent-looking types around?”

“Nah. Should we bother doing something?”

“Eh…it’ll work itself out. Long as they don’t bug me…”

Heedless, the toddler steps away from the balcony’s railing and continues to wander deeper into this fascinating new environment. — Baron Draxum is all around having a fairly rotten day. The Council of Heads has once again dismissed his concerns about the human threat and Big Mama has once again refused to release Lou Jitsu into his custody. Nothing seems to be going Draxum’s way today and it has left him in a foul mood.

So he’s going to indulge in a little of his favorite vendor food to help soothe his fraying nerves.

Just as he’s about to partake, something thumps into his legs harshly enough for him to stumble, nearly dropping his delectable indulgence and with it, the last shreds of his sanity.

He whips around, teeth bared in a menacing sneer at whoever was foolish enough to run into him. “Watch where you—“

Draxum's rage stutters as his eyes turn down towards the culprit. Sprawled on their back at his hooves is a toddler with two messy buns and a pair of overalls. A human toddler. Draxum wrinkles his nose in disgust as the wretched spawn blinks up at him with wide, dark eyes.

Draxum reaches down and picks the toddler up by the back of their clothes. They weigh very little. “How did you get in here, spawn?” He asks.

To his surprise—and annoyance—the spawn doesn’t answer. Instead, it lets out a shrieking laugh as it dangles from Draxum’s hand, feet kicking out wildly in the open air. It seems to enjoy being held like this, strangely enough.

Curious, Draxum glances around the mulling crowd. Various yokai go about their business, casting occasional curious glances in the direction of him and the human spawn, but none seem eager to claim it for themselves. From where he stands, Draxum spies no other humans in the crowd, and certainly no one that looks frantic enough to have misplaced this little creature.

Did it wander in her all on its own somehow? Draxum wonders.

An idea percolates in Draxum’s mind as he takes a bite of his food, looking over the tiny giggling human in his grasp. Perhaps, this could be an opportunity. After all, how often would Draxum be able to examine and study human behaviors from the outset of their infancy?

And more importantly, shape them. If some disgusting human couldn’t be bothered to keep a better eye on their own spawn, then perhaps it was better off with Draxum anyway.

Curiously, the spawn seems unperturbed by neither Draxum’s appearance nor the general sight of the Hidden City. It continues reaching for Draxum with pudgy hands, repeating the syllable “ba” over and over.

Draxum hums, mind made up. He takes a bite of his treat and then tucks the still giggling human-ling under his arm and walks off in the direction of his home and lab.

Perhaps if he’s lucky, this creature will become an excellent soldier. And wouldn’t it be ironic if the one to lead Draxum’s army to take back the surface world from those disgusting humans was human themself? He smiles a little at the thought. Yes, this may work out nicely.

——— As it turns out, raising a human spawn is harder than Draxum thought. Namely, the specimen—that Draxum has taken to simply calling Spawn—is the most disagreeable and stubborn creature humanity has ever produced. He has determined that Spawn is approximately two and a half years old and biologically of the female variety, but that is about all he was able to discern as Spawn refused to stay still for any further examination and forced Draxum to chase her through the lab, giggling the whole way as if they were playing a game. She may not be very fast on those unsteady legs of hers, but the clutter in Draxum’s lab makes catching her a chore whenever she darts through openings Draxum can’t pass through. Especially since the little creature seems to find Draxum’s frustration with her antics highly amusing.

On top of this, the Spawn refuses to stay in her containment cell during rest hours, either wailing until Draxum comes to quiet her or breaking out herself. Most often the latter.

Spawn spends most of the night crying. Draxum has stayed to observe Spawn as she sleeps to see what exactly causes her such violent distress. So far, he has observed no external stimulus that could be responsible for Spawn’s late night outbursts. His best hypothesis from his observations is that Spawn suffers from nightmares and seeks comfort from him in their aftermath.

Further complicating matters, Spawn is not at point in her development where she is capable of workable speech. The most she is capable of is repeatedly shouting “ba” at him and babbling incoherently as she tries to mimic what Draxum says himself.

Draxum sighs heavily, holding the squirming, giggly human ahead of him from under her arms. “It seems teaching you to speak will have to be our first priority,” he says.

“Prabababe,” she echoes, lightly slapping her hand against Draxum's wrist with her meager baby strength for emphasis.

“That’s right, little Spawn. Priority,” he says, repeating the proper pronunciation of the word the child is mimicking.

“Prabababe!” She cheers loudly.

He sets her down and pats her on her head as he turns to look for a notepad. He’ll have to make a trip to the library and start putting together a lesson plan. Perhaps he should pick up some books on child-rearing while he’s there. Raising a human spawn can’t be much different than raising a young yokai, right? Not that Draxum has experience with either, however.

And then suddenly, there's a cacophonous crash behind him, followed by the piercing sound of crying.

Draxum whips around so fast that his neck muscles cramp painfully. Spawn sits amid a pile of toppled weapons, a rather nasty cut on her right forearm, likely from a wayward blade. Tears leak from her face at an impressive rate as blood wells in the wound and dribbles down her arm, splattering across the floor and soaking into her clothes.

“Ah nuts!” He shouts, diving for the sobbing child.

She curls in on herself, pulling her injured arm close to her chest, further staining her outfit with the blood seeping from the wound, and burying her face into Draxum’s kimono as she wails. Draxum shudders involuntarily as he feels Spawn’s face fluids soak into his clothes.

“Spawn, cease this and let me inspect your injury,” he orders, prying her arm out so he can examine it.

The bad news is that it’s a fairly deep wound. The good news is that it’s also a clean one. While it speaks to the quality of the blade that caused it, it’s deep enough that this will doubtlessly require stitches.

Looks like I’ll need to put those somewhere she can’t reach, Draxum thinks as he digs through a drawer for his medical kit. A little difficult with a child in his arm, but not impossible.

He finds it tucked all the way in the back, of course. Regardless, Draxum retrieves the supplies and sets to work, all while cursing his past self for leaving him so ill-prepared.

Spawn continues to squirm and wail and cry, but Draxum doesn’t let her yank her injured arm away as he expertly stitches the long wound on her forearm closed and wraps it securely with sterile bandages. Fortunately, once Draxum completes the stitches, Spawn’s squirming lessens and her cries quiet down to blissful silence, though one punctuated by an occasional hiccuping sob. Still, it's a great deal better than the shrill wailing Spawn had committed herself to just moments ago.

His work completed and his subject thoroughly exhausted from her emotional display, Draxum sits back in his chair, staring indifferently at the mess of bandages and cleansing solution strewn over his lab table. As if sensing the opening in Draxum's defenses, Spawn wastes no time scooting herself off of the table and plopping gracelessly into Draxum’s lap.

“Hey!” He exclaims indignantly.

Predictably, the little creature pays no heed to Draxum’s protests as she curls up against his chest, gripping his robes with her tiny hands and tucking her wounded arm carefully against her own chest. And she soon falls asleep.

Draxum sighs lightly. “At least she’s finally quiet…” — Draxum swiftly returns a thoroughly exhausted Spawn to her containment cell. Detangling her is a bit of a challenge as her tiny hands are deceptively strong and grip his robes so tightly he’d momentarily feared they’d rip as he dislodged her. Tear tracks dry on her cheeks as she dozes against the pillows, the bandages covering her injury standing out starkly against the dark bedding. Even through the bandages, a faint light shines through, tracing the length of the injury.

The wound has a mystic quality to it that, Draxum concludes. He finds it odd, seeing as the chances of this random human toddler having mystic potential it laughably small. Most likely, that mystic quality came from whatever Spawn cut herself on.

“Still,” he muses quietly to himself. “It may be worth a look. Just in case.”

Packing away his medical supplies, Draxum turns his attention back to the pile of weapons he will need to find a new home for. Preferably out of a certain nosy—and fragile—human’s reach.

Over the course of his long life, Draxum has become steward of many interesting mystic weapons. Some owners return for their stowed weapons, but many never do for one reason or another. Usually it’s because they no longer need it or forget about it, but some are items of terrible power that are better off tucked away and hopefully forgotten by the inevitable march of time. Draxum can only hope that Spawn didn’t cut herself on one such weapon.

Finding the weapon doesn’t take long, as it’s the only one in the pile with bright red blood glistening along its edge.

“Hm. The odachi…,” Draxum muses, picking up the sword in one hand and reaching for the rag with another. “Not the worst possible outcome.”

He’ll have to keep an eye on Spawn for any adverse effects. The blade of this particular odachi is capable of cutting the fabric of space just as easily as it cuts flesh. Draxum can’t rightly say what might happen in this case, if anything at all. It’s doubtful--though not impossible under the right circumstances--that Spawn will gain powers like the odachi’s or lose parts of herself suddenly, but Draxum admittedly hasn’t cleaned the blade in some time, so it is a much greater possibility that Spawn could contract an infection rather than powers.

He’ll have to monitor the wound carefully as it heals. Both for infection and any...peculiarities.

Draxum wipes the blade clean and sets about gathering the weapons around his lab. He rather quickly finds himself eyeing the loose, breakable beakers of caustic chemicals littering the surfaces within reach for the heedless spawn now in his care.

Part of him now regrets his impulsive decision to take in such a small, fragile creature, but…hopefully the results will be worth the present headache.

(Next)

[hyperfixatinator]

So, it's come to my attention that the Season 2 finale fight wasn't the only moment his eyes had purple glowy mystic streaks coming from them.

The first time we can see this is actually during the FIRST episode of Season 1, during the Mad Dogz' FIRST real fight, right before he launches his very FIRST ATTACK IN THE SERIES!

[purplecatghostposts]

Tell me I’m WRONG. I will not take criticism. Mikey is the only one who would use it RIGHT, the other three would be too murderous or panic at the wrong times and make things worse.

[samatheia229]

Spirit Weapons AU

Soul Eater meets Miraculous Ladybug meets TMNT.

Summary:

In an alternate reality where the Resistance fails very early on, the other leaders decide to seal the turtles' souls in their weapons and send them back in time to guide their younger selves. However, in her haste, Renet severely miscalculates.

In another world, when Hamato Yoshi escapes following the battle between him and Oroku Saki, he takes with him a photo of his family and four soul-possessed mystic weapons that have been passed down the clan for generations.

==

Takes place in S1 EP1 of TMNT 12, this AU is a What-If scenario in which the Rise turtles' souls are bounded to their weapons and sent across space and time, resulting in the 2012 turtles having both mystic abilities and four new chaotic mentors that happen to be older alternate versions of themselves from an apocalyptic future.

Longer Description Below

An AU where the Resistance fails very early on and Future Rise souls are transferred into their weapons in hopes of guiding their past selves to prevent the apocalypse. Instead of Mikey, the Rise version of Renet sends them back in time but miscalculates, sending them to Feudal Japan of the 2012 universe.

The weapons are enchanted to respond to only the turtles' souls (but unbeknownst to anyone, any version of the turtles), and so their souls and mystic abilities have remained dormant for generations. The weapons end up in the hands of a man whose descendant would later found the ninja clan Hamato, and the weapons became priceless heirlooms passed down the family from generation to generation.

Following the battle with Oroku Saki, Hamato Yoshi escapes with a photo of his family and the set of weapons that are considered the pride of the Hamato Clan. Several years later, a mutated Splinter allows his teenage sons to wield the weapons as a test of worth before he lets them go to the surface. He expects his sons to prove themselves as Hamato ninjas, not a multi-coloured light show, the bursts of powerful magic and the reveal that his clan's heirlooms have hosted the souls of his sons from another universe.

[namiikilo]

goes insane thinking about mystic power implications in the case of portals!! leo is creation and mikey is destruction.

leo creates doorways from scratch, makes links between his swords to that connects the doorways together. where there wasn't an entry point, there now is one because he builds it with his own mystic energy, his swords acting as the paths between them when he specifically uses them to teleport. even in his motions, creating a circle or slicing the air, actively creates a new window for him to pass through, he makes uniform openings for mikey's portals, the two we've seen, are made from ripping apart what's already there, tearing what's not meant to be torn. there's no path being created really, just the wall of reality being torn apart to expose the reality beneath it. his movements, especially in the beginning of the movie, look like he's literally ripping apart the fabric of time and space, the portals form like a torn hole, unlike leo's clean ovals, mikey's portals are jagged and take energy to make bigger and become more ripped and in turn rip him apart as well

i could make better thoughts but!!

[khlegacynexus]

Well this is Late as all Sin the concept art for the Sacred Guard and the Council

[explodingstarlight]

hey :)

what if I said...things happened.

A sketch dump + some pose practice/studies (i say studies cuz i meant to do that but then didn't actually pull any references so 💀)

✨ close-ups: ✨

[fandomsandfanfictionsgalore]

Anyone hear me out! I haven't seen anyone do this,but... Magical girl au of the rottmnt boys!!!

I haven't seen one before tbh so just read the tags. If y'all have idea on some stuff for it,I'd like to see them!!!