Why do people hate 2012 Splinter? I just found a fanfic that bashed 2012 Splinter so badly I nearly cried. They painted Splinter as a bad father and very homophobic. I don’t understand. They are plenty of episodes where Splinter proved that he was a good father. Yes, there are some episodes where Splinter should have handled the situation a little better, but people make mistakes. That’s what makes him a good character. He makes mistakes. The homophobic part, I don’t understand at all. Splinter is strict, but not that strict. He would be accepting of his children’s decisions. If any of the turtles or their friends came out, he would be proud of them for accepting of who they are.
I even seen another fanfic on Ao3 where the turtles were nothing more than soldiers. Not brothers or even a family. That angered me so badly I just stopped reading TMNT fanfics for a while. Didn’t the author watch the show? There are episodes throughout the seasons until his death where he grounded or forbade the turtles from leaving the lair because he feared for their safety. In the Season 2 finale, Splinter attacked Shredder because he believed that Shredder killed Leo. (From my perspective.) And as for training them? They are mutants. He wanted them to have a way to defend themselves. He knew that he will not always be around to protect them.
Honestly I dont know anon. I genuinely dont understand that either. Like yes Splinter made mistakes but he is not NEARLY as awful as the fandom says he is. He's a good kind loving parent.
And the funny part is that it only seems to be 2012 Splinter who gets this treatment. Especially from Rise fans.
Like they will go on essays and essays defending Rise Splinter to the end of the earth because "he's heavily traumatized"
And then they turn around and VILIFY 2012 Splinter when guess what? HE IS ALSO HEAVILY TRAUMATIZED!
His brother murdered his wife, kidnapped his daughter and burned down his HOME. That is highly traumatizing.
Splinter knows the world is a dangerous place, his entire LIFE got upended all in a single night because of one man. And then the Kraang are actively hunting him and the turtles down in their first months. He HAD to train them in order to defend themselves because he couldnt just keep them underground for their entire lives. (Plus I think a part of it was him trying to keep his culture and the last of his clan alive because the entire Hamato clan almost got WIPED OUT/joined Shredder.)
And the whole thing about him being homophobic? That just feels really racist to me? Like the asian parent would automatically be homophobic. Even though Splinter knows first hand what it feels like to be shunned for something you cannot control.
The fandom can be very tiring sometimes and Im so sick of all the slander these characters get
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Why the fuck does my dad speak to me then INSTANTLY TELLS ME TO BE QUIET bc hes watching something on the tv
I'm not a doll or an object you can talk to when you're bored and then instantly stop talking to when you've said what you've said
I fucking hate men
If my voice is that annoying or my presence or what I have to say WHY SPEAK TO ME THEN??? You don't have to talk to me at all + I am busy doing my own thing why the hell are you bothering me just to instantly cut me off or silence me when I speak back
I'm not a household object I'm a human being that also wants to speak OR I want to just be left alone
You can't just use me because you feel the need to say whatever you're saying then not let me reply
One day they'll be dead I'm sick of them. He just ignores my mom too even though she's severely depressed. I am autistic having to take care of a depressed mentally ill woman bc hes too lazy
'Why don't you have a boyfriend'
Because I end up being the slave to an apathatic asshole
Cat ladies know what's up
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You know that thing where like you’re watching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice and there’s always a little part of you that thinks, maybe this time he’ll save her, maybe this time they’ll get it right?
Yeah, that’s me with Lex and his dad during the tornado in s1 finale/s2 opener. Maybe this time Lex will just leave him to die; maybe this time we’ll get it right.
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I've gotten two letters from my mom since my aunt died last month and they've both been just. So, so aggressively manipulative. Y'all can skip this post. I'm not looking for sympathy likes/replies. I just need a good rant and sometimes it does pay to yell into the Tumblr void.
Still—still!—she insists I have never told her why I refuse to speak to her anymore. She has the receipts on this, going all the way back over a decade ago to my early 20s when I conceded to communicate to her solely through e-mails. That avenue of communication ended with me blocking her pretty much everywhere online after she called me a sociopathic bitch on a public platform family, friends, and coworkers followed me on. Very cool of her, very mature.
(If memory serves she was arrested shortly thereafter. Pity it wasn't for something more serious than, jeez, I can't be assed to remember. Something to do with her driver's license? I know she asked me for a couple grand about it and cussed me out when I told her my baby Airman ass literally did not have the money even if I were inclined to help her.)
Every single letter she sends me includes a brief tangent about how she's been watching YouTube videos about estranged families (both sides! she always includes the both sides!). She always says she wants to understand but she can't because I've never told her why I refuse to talk to her anymore.
How many phonecalls, how many HOURS, have I wasted crying in rage and despair as I try to tell her all the ways she hurt me, physically and emotionally and mentally, before I realized she'd never accept it? That she would always, always try to gaslight me like this? That she'd give me that guileless, wide-eyed and furrowed brow anxious stare and that high, plaintive goddamn voice. That she'd convince me time and time and time and time again that maybe, maybe I'm overreacting?
This most recent letter was a real treat. She went out of her way to say she wasn't trying to guilt trip me, really, but she's JUST lost both her sisters AND her parents in the last year and she's terrified she might die soon next so WHY won't her ONLY DAUGHTER just TALK to her? 😭
So, firstly. I can only speak for myself and my interpretations of what my extended family will feel, but I'm pretty goddamn sure we're all gonna CHEER when she finally fucking kicks the bucket. Ain't nobody gonna miss her when she croaks. Even if her sisters outlived her that'd be the same. My only complaint when she does die is that I'm gonna insist on paying for all of the funerary expenses because she's already leeched too goddamn much from the rest of the family. No way is anyone gonna pay for her bullshit one last time, even if that means paying folks back with interest after I fly back to California. And you can be sure I'm gonna go out of my way to take the cheapest route possible at every opportunity out of spite. This woman doesn't deserve better than the bare minimum. That's all she's ever given everyone else after all.
Secondly, I will concede the fact that yes, she's lost both her sisters in the last year, not even a full year apart from each other. And that sucks! It's extremely fucking sad! My aunts raised me as much as she did, and they both sure as hell paid for more of my childhood needs than she ever did. I was able to afford to go to my younger aunt's funeral last year, but even with the surprise disability backpay I got this year I've been dealing with a lot of owning-a-100+-year-old house expenses (such as replacing the entire goddamn original roof) this year, so I genuinely couldn't make the trip for my older aunt's funeral. Two family members offered to pay for my flight and I just couldn't accept that kindness because I grew up watching my mom take and take and take and take from the family.
THIRDLY HOWEVER.
Her mom, my maternal grandma, died TWENTY YEARS AGO. Her dad, my maternal grandpa, died THIRTY YEARS AGO. And she hated her parents! She fucking loathed them! I spent more of my childhood being her psychologist instead of her goddamn child; ALL I HEARD ABOUT was how much she hated and resented her parents. This is THE first time I've heard her trot them out since I lived with her back in the 00s, and it might damn well be the first halfway-positive mention of them since long before that? This is so transparent an act I can't help but be insulted that she'd think I'd take the bait? Using the LITERAL DEATHS of others to try to goad me into talking to her?
Like. Jesus. Last year at my younger aunt's funeral just about every single member of the California-centric family pulled me aside to ask if my mom was being too much. My aunt's CHILDREN, damn near non-functional with grief, asked if I needed help handling my mom. And there were a couple occasions where I damn near admitted yeah! She's being too much! She won't stop fucking touching me! She won't stop making her sister's death about herself! And here she is, a year later, doing the same goddamn thing again with her other sister's death!
She's a manipulative, gaslighting abuser who refuses to grow up and accept responsibility and/or repercussions for her actions despite being in her late-60s. She gleefully twists the knife into whoever she can get her hands on and acts SO distraught and SO betrayed when people find fault with her actions and behavior. I don't know a single person who knows her to like her anymore once she's shown her true colors, and somehow she's still convinced she isn't the problem.
What a waste. What a fucking waste.
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Whumptober Day 2
Thermometer | Delirium
They don't care about you.
"Stop that!" Grisol sniffled loudly, his clogged sinuses aching. The nurse dabbing his brow flinched.
"My prince, please-"
"Shut up!" he demanded again, face scrunched up in a tight scowl, throat raw like sandpaper. His normally commanding and strong shouts were reduced to crackly cries.
He lashed his arm out and it made contact with the woman's hand, making a sharp smack. She yelped, and his hand stung. Tears pricked in his eyes from the pain. How dare they let him be injured as he lay, sick and weak in bed. He was their prince!
"Your highness, there is no need for such behavior." The nurse's tone was polite, but dry and tired. She'd said that half a dozen times today.
"You aren't doing it right!" The water from the cloth dripped into his eyes when she pressed too hard. His mother's touch was more gentle.
He could remember when he was younger and she sat in his nursery when he was sick, dabbing at his brow, while the Gzar stood by his bedside.
"Please save your strength, Prince." The nurse sighed again, wiping his forehead. Another set of hands poked the thermometer to his mouth, and yet another were tugging at his blanket. Stop touching me!
"Quiet! Where is my father?" His throat stung, his chest ached. He glared around the room, the uniforms and faces of nameless servants blurring together.
"Prince Gristol," a maid spreading smelly herbs around the bed tittered nervously, "his Majesty is very busy. I'm sure he will come visit-" Another maid, older, grabbed her arm to stop her.
"SHUT UP! GET OUT! GET OUT YOU STUPI-" As his voice cracked, his sore throat clenched and gave out, his shrill cry cut short. When his voice disappeared, he threw himself back, kicking and flailing and hissing for everyone to leave, smacking every hand that got close again.
Slowly, the maids stepped back, shuffling out of the room. And the little prince was left alone, his tantrum dying down as he was finally given peace from the poking and prodding and hushed whispers by his bedside.
He curled up under his thick pile of goosefeather blankets. When father came he'd tell him how they'd treated their future Gzar, and they'd all be punished, and from then on only his mother would be trusted to watch over the gem of the country. His father would praise him for putting his foot down on the incompetent servants who dared to... who dared to say...
Hours later, Prince Gristol woke, too sore to move, a wet silk handherchief pressed to his forehead. Water streamed down his head and soaked his hair and eyes. The whispers of servants passed over his head like mosquitos hovering.
"Mother," he groaned, "father." The speaking stopped abruptly, but when he could do nothing else, it continued as if he'd never spoken at all.
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