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livfastdieyoung69 · 1 year

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Jeff Hardy x reader where he finds someone who is extreme just like him

2 EXTREME 4 the EXTREME

The crowd was silent, buzzing with anticipation. Y/N could hear a scream of their name over the barricade, a hand coming out in front of them from the spot on the cold, concrete floor. Their opponent was laid out on the flattened announcers’ table, a referee screaming out to the count of ten from all the way inside the ring. Y/N squeezed their eyes shut, the taste of blood filling their mouth, the thick liquid dripping down from a forehead wound in reminder of the injuries they faced from the past actions of throwing the other person and themselves through the now broken table placed inside one of the ring's corners. The ref was at 7 now. Their eyes shut again, lids crinkling in force.

“Come on. Gotta get up, come on.” Y/N whispered to themselves but their body still refused to move. The plush, red barricade behind them rattled as fans hit against it in a way to show their love. It seemed to be even brighter when they opened their eyes once again, the stadium cheering a little louder while they stumbled to their feet. They looked down at their opponent as the ref counted to 8 before turning to face the ring and lazily diving under the bottom rope and coming back out again, forcing the ref to restart his count.

“ONE!” Y/N fell onto their knees, pulling the fabric on the sides of the ring up, pulling out the only table remaining. The crowd yelled, Y/N’s own adrenaline meshing with theirs.

“TWO!” The ref moved to face the announcers table, now only speaking to one instead of both wrestlers. They pushed the table into the ring, looking back over to their rival who seemed to finally be waking. A sigh left their mouth, moving quickly to set up the flimsy piece of wood, before finally taking a few lung-filling breaths.

“THREE!” They continued in simply breathing, before becoming sick of waiting and turned to their combatant, watching as JR tried bad mouthing them back into the ring.

“Come on!” Their opponents attention was ripped away from JR and now moved to the form standing in the ring. “You fuckin scared now? Come on, get in the goddamn ring!” The ref only reached five before they jumped back into the ring and ran right into a suplex, Y/N throwing their body through the second table.

“ONE, TWO, THREE!” The crowd counted along with the ref and erupted into cheers as Y/N jumped up, celebrating their victory before limping over to the ramp trying not to look too injured. The curtain into the gorilla was pulled back, revealing whoevers match was next and plenty of staff, along with Lita who had been waiting for Y/N’s match to finish. Lita rushed over to the exhausted superstar with an icepack, much more concerned for their well being than they seemed to be.

“Oh my god, I love you so much, Lita.” Y/N let their gratitude be known as they took the ice pack and sat in an uncomfortable steel chair in order to hold it against their back.

“I really don’t know how you do all of this stuff, like I get that its fun to jump around every once in a while, but every single second of every single match? Really, Y/N, I don’t think you’ll be able to bend over by the time you’re thirty!” It was nice to have someone worried, but Y/N wasn’t really listening to Lita as their frustration grew, the chair causing the ice pack to keep sliding down their back. Instead of holding it up, they flopped onto the ground, the icepack perfectly on their lower back.

“Get off the goddamn floor! God, I love you but no wonder why Matt’s always so stressed all the time,” Y/N was new to WWE, recently coming from Big Japan Wrestling, known for their extreme antics that even stuck out in a very extreme company. Now, in a much bigger company with fewer high-flyers and risk takers, it was easy to gain attention from the fans and the love of the only other person in the women's division with a somewhat similar style.

“That boyfriend of yours? What the hells he got to do with me?” Although they got along very well with Lita, Y/N didn’t really talk to very many other people so they weren’t too familiar with the Hardyz.

“You totally act like Jeff! And don’t say you don’t know who that is cause I see you staring at him all the time.”

“That's definitely not true at all.” Before Lita could argue back to the obvious lie, Y/N made her concentrate on something else. “Speaking of, here comes your boy.” Lita rolled her eyes but turned around.

“Lita, I would really appreciate it if you would tell Jeff that there is no need for him to do a Swanton tonight and then another one off a goddamn ladder on Heat.” Matt spoke with a tension filled tone in his voice while he pointed back to the younger man behind him who scoffed at the accusation.

“Jeff, you should not do that.” Lita repeated what he had definitely already heard, Matt turning to face him with an “i-told-you-so” expression.

“Personally, I think that’d be pretty sick.” Y/N spoke, looking up at the brothers from their spot on the floor. Lita looked down with the look a scolding mother would give, Jeff breaking out into a grin at their agreement.

“Why are you on the floor, Y/N?” Matt asked in confusion.

“Cause my back hurts.” They spoke as if it were obvious with a shrug.

“I told you it works.” Jeff spoke from his brother's side, earning a very hard side-eye. “I’m Jeff by the way. I watched your match, it was really great! Y’know, I was thinking, um, we’ve got a pretty similar style, would you maybe wanna bounce some ideas off of each other or something?” Jeff’s grin widened at the sight of Y/N’s as they bashfully took his praise.

“Well, I think I’ve got a concussion right now, but in the future, I think that would be very nice.”

“You weren’t looking at him, huh?” Lita interrupted the pair moment, her eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Shut up, Lita!”

put in the work, put in the hours and take whats ours 💪💪 this took way too long but I’m actually pretty happy with this😁 Jeff’s return def gave me some hope 🙏 mostly gender-neutral but I did make a refrence to Y/N being on the womens roster

in my mind Lita and Matt are extreme but Y/N and Jeff are just battshit crazy also i couldn’t help but make lita and matt in love I just watched the episode where he first kisses her i love them so much

#jeff hardy imagine #jeff hardy x reader #jeff hardy‼️‼️#put in that little heat refrence for rita love u <3 #wwe #wwf #lita #i love her #so much #jeff hardy #wwe smackdown #LIV writes;*!

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sweetandsavageautistic · 24 days

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(CW: Cringe, puzzle pieces, Autism Moms, potential sensory eyesore, ableism possibly, like one sex joke)

Welcome back to me harshly criticizing graphic design choices that people make about autism where I find pictures of shirts and whatnot and I tear into them like a lion tearing into its prey. Let's get into it.

In the words of @rebmasel on TikTok: "Ka-chow."

First up the only appropriate way to do this review is in the style of Dr. Seuss.

I do not like the puzzle piece, for it disturbs my fucking peace.

The color purple is real nice, but the message here I would think twice.

No tacky colors, so that's good. I don't hate it, though I feel I should.

Final Score: 4 out of 10. I'd rather not see this again.

I know the first line's kinda cheating, but I couldn't really think of any other fitting rhyme.

Next up is this:

This is already miles better than most of what I've seen.

The colors aren't tacky, they're actually kinda nice.

You have two wolves inside of you, both of them are gay and autistic. /ref

Autism Acceptance, that's a win.

Infinity symbol instead of puzzle piece, fuck yes.

Only criticism is that it's kind of a cheesy message, but not the worst.

Final Score: 9.5 out of 10. I'd wear it.

And then the quality drops here.

Puzzle piece means you lost points.

"Autism Mom." You can say it's difficult to raise an autistic child, but you're not a goddamn superhero.

How dare you use Rosie the Riveter for this. The disrespect. /hj

The military font is tacky.

I don't like seeing blue associated with autism, but at least it's not an abominable shade of blue.

Final Score: 1 out of 10. Get it out of my sight.

Speaking of lions that I mentioned earlier:

I'm already liking the absence of puzzle pieces.

Autism Acceptance is a yes.

When a lioness has children, she stops making love to the lion. The lion gets jealous, sometimes so jealous he EATS the children. You'd think this would upset the lioness; far from it. They make love again like the children never existed. I find that idea terrifying. /q

Not a fan of the colors, they're too dark for my taste.

The message feels cheesy.

Final Score: 7.5 out of 10. I dunno if I'd wear it, but it's not the worst design I've seen. The effort and care are present.

This feels like a roller coaster because it went downhill again.

"Share your friends." As someone with PDA, to quote Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 3, Line 87; "No." /hj

Autism Awareness. Once again, I am very aware of my existence but sometimes I wish I wasn't; there are days where I'd like to be both perceived and NOT perceived.

The blue isn't tacky, thank God.

I hate the quote because it gives the message that autism is nothing but a burden.

Also there's a bit too much going on with it, all of the decals and shit.

I don't see any puzzle pieces, so thank God.

Final Score: 2 out of 10. I do not recommend.

This is a bit different.

There's just way too much going on in this. Absolute eyesore.

Return of the Tacky Elementary School Colors, except they dragged orange into it this time.

So many puzzle pieces.

Why is everyone trying to fight autism? It's just minding its business.

I'm pretty sure that that's going to be a signal to mean kids to bully your kid. Like, even if there's more understanding of autism, there are still asshole crotch goblins.

I haven't "done" autism, but I am curious as to whether or not autism is good in bed. /j

Final Score: 1 out of 10. No thanks, I'll pass.

Let's end part 2 on a high note.

Simple design, but colorful and pretty easy on the eyes.

And the colors aren't patronizing.

No puzzle pieces.

Acknowledgement of the intersectionality of autism and sexuality.

No cheesy message; just a funky design about autism and gayness. Not all autism shirts have to be serious or UwU or motivating, so it's always a nice change of pace.

Final Score: 11 out of 10. As an asexual biromantic autistic, I'd wear this.

#autism #autistic #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #sweet and savage autistic

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wr0ngwarp · 3 months

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some refs for my jet set radio explorers of death joke au (that sure is a sentence) because i wanted to put them on art fight (..mostly for warehouse leapusverse lore reasons)

beat and yoyo seemed like they needed refs most urgently cuz beat has a bunch of designs on account of being squirtle and yoyo's design was just hard to parse in the pics he appeared in. yeagh

art fight bio under the cut for ppl who don't have an art fight account

based on PMD: Explorers of Death by sparklingdemon, HIGHLY recommended reading to get a grasp on what in the goddamn is going on here oh this is incredibly silly. so basically a while ago there was an in-joke about jsr and eod in a pokepasta discord i'm in, and i have a bad habit of taking jokes too far. so, of course, i took the joke WAY WAY WAY too far! the entire joke is the idea that Corn in Future retconned og JSR Beat as leader/founder of the GGs, so Corn and Beat are the Myras. no it’s not a joke funny enough to justify how many hours i sunk into drawing these. no attempt was made to change the setting, assign most of the other cast, or otherwise make this au hold up to ANY amount of scrutiny.

---- the base concept (aka reskinned eod plot) is that the og JSR timeline was getting, like, temporally retconned into the Future timeline, but Beat (in the role of Squirtle) refused to accept the changeover so he tried to hold onto his own fading timeline, trapping it (and himself) in a state of perpetual decay until he can take back the timeline. basically everybodys a grayscale rotting zombie it's miserable. also if you think "hey, isn't EOD!Beat less justified than Squirtle because the situation WASN'T life or death until he MADE IT that way" you would be right lmao JSRF Corn (as Myra), being the leader of the GGs in Future, shows up (overwriting the preexisting version of Tab ig) to try to put the dying timeline out of its misery so it can actually be reborn into the Future timeline. for some reason his spraypaint can make the zombies pass on. don't question it. he and Beat are kind of trying to take each other down so one timeline can take precedent here. Gum (as Shadow) is kind of torn between the two of them, with two overlapping contradicting sets of memories and also the most disastrous way to possibly combine her JSR and JSRF designs LMAO. her loyalties are kind of torn as a result and also she understandably isnt a big fan of all the murder going on here ... ...also, because this is a joke au that i did not bother to try to make sense, they're in the goddamn Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers for no real reason. i also tend to call Beat and Corn "Meat and Mourn" though i dont have a nickname for Gum :(. and they have some level of meta awareness that they're in a poorly crafted joke AU based on an existing creepypasta, and yet this knowledge of how inane it all is doesn't stop them from riding it out to its horrific conclusion. ...ha ha? also Yoyo is Bidoof he's just here to be the first to die dont worry about him

---- also because there's something profoundly wrong with me i have the main trio + Yoyo in me and my sibling's joke multi-crossover RP. Corn is MIA right now, Gum is in the Garage with the setting's regular version of the GGs (they are confused and concerned. esp normal!Gum)... ...and, uh... Beat and Yoyo are in the Warehouse. (Pauein 9696 is just kind of there too.) they're... friends? i think......???? they are trapped in there and dont know Warehouse Yoyo is actually the goddamn building theyre trapped in

in the warehouse, eod!yoyo is kind of... barely coherent, only aware a fraction of the time, and not really able to do a whole lot since he's in such bad condition. he's just kind of taking anything as it happens at this point bc he can't do anything about it, but internally he's very pessimistic both about the idea that Beat can fix anything OR that there's any chance they'll escape the warehouse. eod!beat is... sort of kind of friends with the Warehouse but it's a very fragile friendship prone to arguments since he is trying VERY hard to leave (esp cuz he has UNFINISHED BUSINESS with killing corn and MAKING THINGS RIGHT) but Warehouse Yoyo is manipulatively trying to keep him without letting on that's what he's doing. both of these guys are fucked in the head tbh. at least nobody's judging each other for being walking corpses with weird metafiction elements.

#jet set radio #creepypasta #pokepasta #explorers of death #jsr #eye horror #gore #body horror #blood #ask to tag #staring at these images is really giving me a Why did I do this. moment LSKDJGLKSDJG #jsr beat #jsr yoyo #beat jsr #yoyo jsr #i feel like this post is halfway to gibberish in its own beautiful way #jsr eod

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headlessjest · 6 months

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what is up !!

uhhh sorry if this clutters up ur ask box but could u draw/write Auditor as a dad to a silly shadowy y/n uhm sorry ,,, if its considered a blank promt

I’ll write this since I’m kinda drawing a lot of my oc ref sheets!

Thank you for the request though!

Ft: Auditor

(All of this is platonic!!)

Hcs:

•Tbh, they weren’t expecting a mini them

•But in all honesty, they like it.

•I mean, a mini version of yourself is sick as hell, and you can teach them crazy shit.

•But fr though, they like taking care of you.

•Also, it is confirmed that the employers are vampires, no joke. So I’m just imaging you biting random agents and Auditor is in the back like: “Lmao, that’s my kid.”

•I also think that they share their drinks with you because you’re technically also an employer? (I have a headcanon that the employers have different taste in drinks n all that. Like how Auditor has a taste in sweeter or more sugary drinks.)

•I also think that you mock them in a way. Like being in their office a lot and typing on the computer, etc. Trying to live up their name.

•But yeah, they love taking care of you and do get a little upset when not having time to be with you.

One shot:

Alright, ever since you got accidentally created, you’ve been kinda a nightmare for the agency. You gnaw at everything you see, scratch at everything, and just be a little shit head in general.

The only way for you to calm down was your dad…

Your dads drinks.

Apparently, sugary drinks help you calm down instead of being a hyper little shit head. That's where you are right now, getting chased down by everyone, including your dad because you won't accept sugary drinks. "(Name)!!" Auditor yelled out over the speaker.

"I swear to God, (Name)! This has been going on for 3 whole hours! How the hell do you have the energy for this shit!?" Auditor yelled once again. You continued to run through the halls as the agents chased you down. As you kept on running, you got trapped in a corner. You turned around to look at the agents who're trying to slowly grab you.

You looked below you and realized a vent was underneath you. The agents also noticed this and one of them lost their control and instantly tried to grab you, forcing you to climb into the vent and close the cover behind you quickly. "Uh, MX.. They're in the vents now.." one of the agents hesitantly stated into the ear piece. "Goddamn it! Alright, everyone, go to every vent in the agency and guard it. We need to get (Name) to calm down as soon as possible!" Auditor command.

All the agents nodded at eachother and all started to spread out to each individual vent in the place. Now here you are, climbing through the vents, trying to find your dad's office. The one place where an agent isnt guarding the vent. Auditor hummed when looking over the camera footage, trying to find out where you are.

Auditor was honestly getting some deja vu rn from the fnaf 2 and 3 vent stuff. Honestly kinda scared them a bit.

Anyways, after 10 minutes of this bs, you finally found your dad's office and giggled to yourself. You were about to jump out of the vent before hearing your dad say this. "You're in here, (Name)!" You jolted from this and tried to crawl away before one of Auditors tendrals grabbed you from the vent and made you drop down and into their hands.

"All agents, (Name) has been found. Go back to your post at once." Auditor commanded. Auditor was now glaring at you with anger. You tried to squirm your way out of their hold but no use. Their grip was strong enough to hold you still and all that.

"(Name), you caused a lot of trouble today! Do you know how much work had to be put aside because of you!?" Auditor scolded. You realized their words and kinda dropped down a bit, your flames/shadows going down. Auditor looks over your state and sighs.

They set you down on the ground and kneel down towards you. "I know that you know we don't get a lot of time together, right?" Auditor questioned. You nodded and looked away a bit in slight shame. "Listen, I'll make a deal, (Name)." This got your attention, making you look back up at them. "Sometime, this week, I'll take a day off and hang out with you. Spend some time together." Auditor swore.

You looked up at them for a bit with sparkles in your eyes(?), before lifting your left hand up and bringing your pinky out. Auditor chuckled a bit from this and brought their left hand out, wrapping their pinky around yours.

Well damn. That was really sweet. I hope you like this, anon!

-Jester

#madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat x child! reader #madcom x child! reader #madness combat & child! reader #madcom & child! reader #auditor x reader #auditor x child! reader #auditor & child! reader #Fluff is fun to write once in awhile #I also speedran thi because I needed something to calm me down #i also got this ask when playing papas freezeria on my computer

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sunbunzie · 9 months

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Hot Take: Hero would not forgive Sunny and Basil. (MAJOR SPOILERS!)

Last warning for spoilers :3 Also longevity warning. This thing is 1118 words total. lmao. Also if you’re expierencing thoughts about suicide, please reach out. (TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide, A POV of depression, Omori stuff man this game makes me want to sob) The truth about Mari is that Mari didn’t take her own life- Sunny pushed her down the stairs accidentally. Witnessing this, a panicked Basil decides to “help” Sunny by framing Mari’s death as suicide, hanging our dearest Mari on a tree bu a jumprope, making everyone believe she committed suicide.

Little, innocent Aubrey thought she committed suicide. Our rau of sunshine Kel thought she committed suicide. And Mari’s dear lover, our Hero, thought she committed suicide.

Lets talk about Hero’s grief for a bit.

-HEROS GRIEF-

As stated by KEL in the game, Hero refused to get out of bed, go to school, eat, and other important things because of Mari’s death. This lasted for about a year.

Kel then continues on to say that he tried to get Hero out of bed one day, saying how everyone misses him and such. Hero responds negatively to this, still stuck in a abyss of depression. The more Kel tried to encourage him, the more and more upset Hero gets, until the point where he snaps at his on brother.

“He suddenly got up and started screaming and yelling at me about a bunch of stuff. Some of it eas pretty hurtful too..”

-KEL

We all know, under any other circumstance, Hero would never say anything mean or hurtful to Kel. Even sibling-to-sibling “bullying” doesn’t apply to these two. They care for each other enough to never say anything mean.

But under this circumstance, Mari is gone. Hero loved Mari. And now she was gone. But Hero was still alive. (/ref lmao.) He became so overcome with grief and sadness that he just unpiled it onto young Kel, who was only trying to help. Luckily, after their parents be literal bitches and ignore Kel crying and comfort Hero, Hero comes to his senses and apologizes to Kel over and over. Hero seems to get better after this.

“Eventually, mom and mom ran to our room and rushed over to hug him to calm him down.

-(cut part because this isnt a kel analysis post. sorry buddy you gotta wait your turn)

“I think that’s when HERO got his senses back, because he ran to me and hugged me right away.

“Just kept apologizing over and over..

”But.. at least HERO got a lot better after that. He started taking care of himself again..”

BUT OF COURSE we know he really didn’t get better. When Hero joins your party, at first he doesn’t want to go to Mari’s grave. Whenever Sunny tried to go there, Hero stops him by saying he isn’t ready yet.

When we do get there however, its then revealed that Hero never realky visited Mari’s grave. Probably because it hurt to think about her. Every day, every waking moment he was reminded of her, and he couldn’t stop her from leaving him. Four yeare, four years he blamed himself for Mari’s suicide, thinking and forcing himself to believe that it was all his fault because he didn’t see the signs to stop her from leaving…

Except there were no signs.

Mari never chose to leave them.

She never chose to take her life.

She didnt take her own life.

Instead, the one who took her life..

Was her brother, Sunny.

-THE TRUTH-

While we have absolutely no idea what happens after the good ending/any of the endings (well we know Sunny moved and left Basil to pick up the scraps 💀 we’ll save that for another post), since this fandom is so goddamn immersed we do have enough to make a theory about each friend.

A lot of people say they would all forgive Sunny and Basil eventually, but I think the case is different with Hero. Which is probably what you’re here for actually, so let’s just set the claim:

Hero will NOT be able to forgive Sunny and Basil, and he might never be able to forgive them.

This is because of Hero’s Grief.

Imagine that you loved someone dearly (could be platonic for all you aromantic besties) and they committed suicide.

Imagine you spent four years blaming yourself, grieving, asking yourself “why” every single day, because there was nothinf you could do to stop them, you didnt see the signs, you thought everything was fine with them, but you were wrong, and you failed them. You’d call yourself the worst lover/best friend to ever exist, beating yourself into a mindset that they never loved you, or if they did, they didnt love you enough to stick around, and that impacted your life so badly that you almost starved yourself and starting saying mean things to your family/those who are trying to help.

Now imagine that..

And then crumple it up and throw it away.

Everything was a lie. You thought they killed themselves, but in the end someone else was responsible for their death. Someone else took their life. Someone else made you believe that they hung themselves and that you failed and that you’re a failure and that you don’t deserve to live while they’re gone.

Sure, the whole thing was an acccident, but either way that grief was all for NOTHING. Ever bad thought, every remark, every meal skipped, every day spent in bed was a waste. You never had anything to blame yourself for. It was never your fault. And the two people reponsible had hidden it for four years.

Hell, screw what I said before about it beibg an accident. The pushing was accidental, but the hanging wasnt. Of course, Basil was a scared kid, but why wasnt the ambulance the first thing in mind? Why did they frame her? Why did Sunny let him do it?

Some people argue that Hero forgave Aubrey for pushing Basil in the lake, but that was different. Yes, they were both impulses of anger, but Basil had time to survive. People were there. You can get water out of people’s lungs. You can’t fix a broken neck.

And also, Aubrey had more witnesses. She wouldn’t have been able to frame it as anything, because the whole town would probably know about it within a few days (Gossiptown fr💀). If Basil died in the lake, there wouldn’t have been a hidden truth. There wouldnt have been lies. No four years of thinking Basil drowned himself. Because they already knew.

Now I’d suspect if Basil did actually die, the forgiveness wouldnt be so quick. (Someone better make a fanfic of that scenario /nf)

AND SO THE TL;DR IS: Hero would not forgive Sunny and Basil, because what it did to him was too mentally draining, and the lies were too much. No matter how much he would think about how it affected them, he would only ever be able to think about his grief and the consequences.

Again, this is my personal theory, but feel free to peacefully argue with me! Or give more details :0

Thanks for reading all of this, if you did! If y’all want to suggest things for me to analyze just use the asks thingy :3 or get me to talk about headcannons. I love headcannons.

#omori #omori game #hero omori #the truth omori #it took me three tries to post this #omori analysis #listening to stay soft by mitski hehe #i kin hero so badly omg #my phones about to die i spent a lot of time writing this #tumblr deleted my original intro so i had to rewrite it. sorry if it’s awkward.

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hotdamnhunnam · 2 years

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Lies

A/N: Hiiiiii you guys 🤗 So I don’t intend to be *back* on tumblr actively the way I used to be, but this mofo Lin is inspiring the shit out of me, I just adoooore him, so of course I have to write a lil fic for him ✨ I’m not tagging my tag list or anything, just dropping this out in the world lol. Much love to you all! ❤️

Pairing: Lin Ford x F!Reader Warnings: smut (p in v, face-fucking), some plot (but no spoilers for book or show), brief ref to blood (not reader’s or Lin’s tho), swearing, smoking, fluffity fluffin’ fluff, and sorry I can’t shake off the old habit of my clownass poet stuff 🤡 Word Count: ~5.2k

“You’ll probably write all this into a great big book someday. Like a love letter to Bombay.”

His blue eyes lift, from where he sits half-naked smoking a half-finished cigarette, out on the balcony of your apartment. Blink once and then lower again as he takes in the words you say.

Four stories down, the city hums to the calm rhythm of late evening: car horns honking just every so often rather than the afternoon constant, the soft croon of love songs, the closing of storefronts, handcarts plodding slowly towards home. The setting sun warms his bare skin as he leans back against the rail, casting in gold the whorls of metalwork that seem to him so frail because they aren’t caging him in and everything he lives and dreams is always relative to that dark place he’s been.

Almost everything at least. The almost is how he convinces himself that he’s free.

Lin cracks a half-smile and quits his cigarette although it isn’t finished yet. Joins you inside, leaves the door open to the balcony—open as you and he both like the door to be. Crosses the tiny room then stops to stand with the back pockets of his jeans pressed up against your desk, facing you where you’re half-reclining in your bed. “What makes you say that?”

Thoughts start drifting then because you’re such a mess. Drifting to how he’s fucked you up against that desk. And in this bed obviously. Out on that balcony, once in the middle of the night for all the stars above to see. So many times he’s fucked you right out of your head and in this moment those blue eyes are fucking you out of your body.

Makes you feel so fucking free.

“It’s something in the eyes,” you answer him, realizing in this instant that it’s how you know he writes. “It’s like… you don’t just look at things, or into them, or through them.”

Lin quirks up his brows and smirks a little bit, biting his bottom lip. “What do I do then?”

“I’m not sure if there’s a word for it. But I bet you would find the word, if it exists.”

“Or fake it if it doesn’t. Because fuck it. That’s half of what writing is.”

“Lies?” you laugh.

“Yeah and not even half—all words are lies, you know? They’re just so small. Words try to capture shit that’s honestly so big and sometimes infinite. The worst thing a writer can do is believe he’s succeeded.”

You wonder for a minute just how permanently stoned he is, from one too many visits with that godfather-philosopher of his. “So I was right—you do write? Even despite thinking you’re doomed to fail?”

His shrug tells you maybe because of it. Maybe failure has found its home deep in his bones and he’s drawn to whatever results in it.

Then he picks up his unbuttoned shirt from the chair where he’d tossed it some hours ago and digs into his pockets. He shows you the notes that he’s scrawled on spare napkins and looseleaf scraps over these past several months, which you both know he’s bound to stitch into a novel. You read them and can’t help but smile, and he looks—looks in that way of his you can’t describe at all. Thinks to himself that smile would burn the goddamn pages if he ever tried to write it in a book.

It almost makes him want to try, but that’s the part of him that’s drawn to what feels wrong. The part he used to think was strong. The part that he’s constantly fighting to deny.

“It’s lovely. All of it, honestly,” you praise his work as you tuck all the papers back into his pockets, relieved to have found that he wrote not so much about people he’d met; rather, these notes are focused on places and concepts. But the finished book is sure to feature characters, so you need him to make you a promise. “Just promise me something?”

You join him where he lies in bed, his sun-gold hair bright even deep in the night, halo upon his heavy head. At the sight it’s easy to forget that the sun past the window has set. He’s becoming your sun and a lot more than that, but you’re not sure if he knows it yet.

Then whisper your request, propping your chin against his chest and searching those infinite eyes for words that won’t ever exist. “Just… promise you won’t write me into it. Please?”

He won’t ask why. Any reply would be a lie.

Just nods, although it’s soft and weak, and it’s a promise that he’ll keep. He won’t write you into a single line, the string of lies that truth-seekers and soul-searchers the world over might someday call a literary masterpiece. You know more deeply than the aching love he makes tonight that he won’t write you into it. Not in words at least.

***************

The first time you lay eyes on Lindsay Ford you know right there and then you’d like to lay a lot more than your eyes on him.

He has wanted man written all over him. Even for a gora, as they call him, he sticks out like a sore thumb. Wanted in far more ways than one. A man worth wanting as a friend, or as a lover—maybe as a business partner or a customer—and then of course for some, a man who’s criminally wanted just in terms of what he’s running from.

On this fine day you catch a glimpse amidst the crowd of sandy hair swept back and gathered in a bun. Slung over one of his broad shoulders is a heavy bag that probably holds his every life possession. Through the pale cloth of his shirt his sweat is visible because no doubt the Bombay heat beats down even more brutally upon someone who’s always on the run.

You’re in no need of that distraction. So you tear your eyes away from him and go about your day. Later that afternoon fate throws his fine ass straight back at you anyway.

Now as you see him ambling absentmindedly along the road the fucker is about to get run over by a car, yet you can’t stop it from this distance—you’re too far. Someone else steps forward that instant, as you stare: a woman dressed in white with ravishing dark hair. Even from here you can just tell that she’s the type who would inspire countless writers to craft characters like her because she’s so much more remarkable than everything you are.

And sure enough this woman makes a mark on Lin; his gaze lights up as if he thinks he’s in the presence of an angel or a fallen fucking star.

Quite clearly smitten and already dreaming up the pretty lines that his poetic heart insists on being written.

So you take one last long look and then head home. You don’t belong in this man’s life because you’re not a fucking poem.

***************

It’s been weeks since that day. Out of sight, out of mind is a thing people say. It’s a lie. He’s inside your mind’s eye.

Your local chai shop is your favorite place to watch neighbors and strangers strolling by. You try to focus on their faces but you keep seeing his traces like the blue of the noon sky, not quite as blue as you might dream his gaze to be, though from the distance that had been in between you and him you couldn’t clearly see. Surely you’re better off that way because to have him anywhere in close proximity you’d probably fucking die.

You shut your eyes just for a second and envelop all your senses in the warm sweet spices wafting from your half-full cup of chai.

And when you open them he suddenly is all that you can see.

All you can hear as he asks if the fully empty seat across from you is free.

He’s standing here so fucking near and really really shouldn’t be.

You smile a silent yes, too stunned out of your wits to fucking speak. Too mesmerized at how his sweat glistens so brightly on the smooth skin of his neck down to the upper part of his half-exposed chest. Sweat has no business glistening like this and making you so weak.

It’s a small shop; of course the seat across from you had been the only open seat. And yet he didn’t have to stop. The chai in any other place would’ve been just as hot and sweet.

The thing is that he didn’t come here for the tea.

Having stared down at yours too long, biting your tongue, you glance up at him nervously.

He clearly sees your nerves but sees them in a way that makes them slowly start to fade. Something about his bay-blue gaze smoothes out the ends where they’re all frayed.

“I’m Lindsay by the way,” he takes the chance to say. “Or Lin for short. And yes I know the Hindi meaning of the word.”

The tongue-in-cheek response that slips off of your lips is far more forward than you’d ever have expected of yourself but so it goes. You wouldn’t say this to a man with a short penis but he’s far from such a man and you don’t doubt it. “Well then I suppose… you ought to know there’s nothing ‘short’ about it.”

Thus your thing with Lin begins.

And from that moment some small part of you already lives in fear of how it ends.

All afternoon the two of you talk over fresh roti and frothy cups of tea. You’re thinking more than half the time of just how good his lin would feel deep in your pussy.

Conversation flows so smoothly till it goes in the direction of a subject that you wouldn’t share so openly in any other circumstance—for several reasons your best practice is to keep this fact about yourself a secret or to lie whenever given half the chance. “My father works for the Australian embassy.”

You don’t tell him just what your father does exactly. Or what you do. But those words just hit him badly. Maybe lying would’ve been the better play for you, yet something when you’re with this man compels you to be just a little bit closer to true.

Even if it costs you the hope of knowing him and the loss burns you fucking brutally.

The ghastly pale shade that just fell across his face somehow still suits him fucking beautifully. Then again anything would; he can’t look anything but good. In any case you don’t ask questions that a wanted man could never answer truthfully. You just muse aloud ruefully. “I guess this means that you’d be better off not having anything to do with me.”

“Yeah, I would,” he says in a nervous half-laugh. Dead serious despite being amused at fate’s cruel joke so that’s what cuts the laugh in half. “I really would be.”

In that moment you can see so fucking clearly that the one thing this man needs most desperately in all the world is to be free. Like, fully free. If any man can ever be. You’re caught up in a life that threatens that for him; you’re bad for him. Look up at him and beg him silently—then just be done with me.

What you don’t know is that he sees the sweetest fucking kind of freedom in your eyes. He’s lost his appetite for chai and so he lies. “The thing is that I’m not done with this tea.”

***************

The first time you lay hands on Lindsay Ford you know right there and then that you’d lay down your life for him.

There’ve been so many cups of tea between the two of you in these past weeks, before you ever touch. A playful punch perhaps against his shirt-clad bicep in the chai shop when he cracks a joke that hits home just a little bit too much. The distant closeness of hello kisses on either cheek, and goodbye hugs and such.

But when your hands meet his bare skin, when he’s standing in front of you here in your room and tells himself he’s finally man enough to let you in… that’s when you know the way you truly feel for Lin.

Your eyes don’t linger on the color of the scars that streak his body since you’ve always been more focused on the wounds deeper within. The wounds that heal a little every day he spends with you and finds new hope of freedom from the prison of his sin.

The problem is he’s been conditioned to consider the escape itself a crime.

With whole truths and half-lies, you’re always finding new and better ways to reassure him otherwise. Tonight you place your palm softly against the skin above his heart as you gaze up into his eyes. “Has it been… a long time?”

Since he’s been with a woman? Since he’s felt anything other than alone?

Either way the answer is the same. It’s been so long. So fucking long.

“No,” he lies. Without shame. Knowing full well his body will tell you the truth even harder than it would have otherwise. Fuck you the better to spite his false tongue.

Yet his tongue sure as fuck doesn’t taste false to you. When you lean in to press your lips to his half-parted, first kiss fully open-hearted… when the kiss deepens and you can feel the wet heat of his tongue upon your own, making you moan as if for all your life till now you’d been alone… it tastes like nothing else you ever fucking knew.

There are no words for how it tastes or what it does to you. But you can tell from this first kiss he won’t let any of his self-hate claw its way through, cast its shadow on the way that he makes love to you.

He lays you down upon your bed, one hand cradling your head, the fingers of the other twined in yours. A soft smile plays about those lips that you just kissed, as if to ask whether a man like him should be allowed to feel such fucking bliss. He asks the universe. It answers, without words. Of fucking course.

Those smiling lips move down your neck and to the skin around your ear; your free hand tangles in the spun gold of his hair to hold him near. And fuck you’ve never smiled so much during sex or during anything. It’s fucking wild how much happiness you get from just the rhythm of his breathing. It’s the only sound you ever want to hear.

You hope those bright blonde bristles on his upper lip and chin will mark you up with rosy little burns across your tender skin. The scrape of them when he’s working his starved mouth on your tits feels like it has to be a sin. He leaves your nipples so damn stiff, that when he shifts, so he can kiss your gasping lips again and then your spit-slick chest rubs against his, you may have come undone already just like this, when the real fucking sex still has yet to begin.

And when it does you’re fucked in far more ways than one. Lin brings a whole other dimension to the meaning of undone.

You want this man to make sweet love to you tonight but also fuck you fucking filthy.

First thing you feel is the length of it when it finally springs free. The girth and weight and fucking strength of it just from the glossy tip pressed up against your pussy lips have seriously knocked you dizzy.

Pretty sure that shit won’t fit. But you’ll split all your insides open till you’re literally nothing but a hole for it.

Lin of course has other ideas though, for just how the night will go. Intense and passionate yet slow. He wants to ravage you for sure, and fuck you like a whore, but only in the ways that make you whole for it.

He doesn’t tell you that in words but still you know. There’s so much freedom in your eyes when he drives home between your thighs, and unlike all the other kinds of freedom built on fucking lies… this one is true and he won’t even have to sell his soul for it.

***************

Whenever you go down on Lin, it’s… it’s the closest thing that you’ve ever experienced to what infinite is.

It’s like the full scale of the universe collapses into mere inches and minutes.

Nothing mere about this though—not here when you’re gaping your throat to take his massive cock as deep as it will go. When your hands grasp onto the firm globes of his ass as if for dear life just to pull him ever closer while you suck and slurp and swallow. When your wide eyes glow with rapture as you thirst after his load until it has to fucking blow. You want this now and every day and night for all your life to follow.

These past days and nights you’ve tasted every inch of him till each became a mile. All the traces of self-hatred in the creases on that perfect fucking face of his that fade a little farther every time you make him smile.

And the sweat that you had seen—glistening on his neck that day when he first met you over chai and mesmerized you with that goddamn gorgeous sheen—you know now it tastes even better than it looks from all the nights you’ve licked him clean. The salt of sweat and tears and all of his regrets through all the years and then the bitter and the sweet of his release when you’re beneath him on your knees feed you so full it feels obscene.

Sometimes he fucks your filthy face because you begged him for it once. He goes all out and pounds your mouth like it’s a sloppy little cunt. He groans and grunts and grabs a firm hold of your skull and plows harder into your hole with every perfect push and pull until he pumps you full of everything your soul could ever want.

Release hits different for a man who’s on the run and it tastes different too. Takes on the taste of what it’s running to. He frees himself a little more, each time he pours himself into his dirty little whore. Tastes fresh as dew and real and true. And the one thing that he is most desperately longing to be free to do… is feel something for you. So long as he remains a prisoner of his own inner war, he can’t be free to feel this deep shit that’s already shaken him down to his core.

Till then he’ll just keep running to it. Maybe this shit ran him over from the day you met before he even knew it. Still he runs because for once he has something worth running for.

***************

“I win because I said it first.”

Lin waggles his adorably disheveled head, hair straggled from the several hours he just spent wrecking the bed, as he declares his little victory and keeps insisting on it while you laugh until it hurts.

You’re set to burst. The motherfucker won’t stop tickling your sides till tears are falling from your eyes.

“But they’re just words! All words are lies…!” you playfully clap back at him and slap one of his thighs.

He finally stops tickling you, settling down snuggled up sweetly in his bed so he can tease you with a cheeky little coo. “That means those words were a lie too. So if that statement was a lie then at least some words must be true.”

“I am not going to philosophize with you.”

At that he laughs and lands a kiss upon the corner of your pout, wagging his head again and sticking his tongue out. “That’s what a sore loser would say.”

This wicked bastard is dead set on getting you to say touché, but you won’t let him win today. “Words are just words. I loved you first. I’ve told you that I fucking loved you from the day your fine ass landed in Bombay.”

“No, you just told me that you saw me and already knew someday you had to have my cock inside of you.”

“So, just a very classy way to say I love you.”

“Oh, so classy…” he lets out another laugh and it’s so free and full of all the stars strung out across the galaxy, flung out much farther than the eye can see. Holds far more fire than the sun rising above you.

I love you.

Sun shines the same regardless of who said it first. Words are just words. And it’s a good thing they were spoken on this day, because tomorrow all the hands of fate at work here in Bombay… are set to do their fucking worst.

***************

His name is Lindsay Ford.

His name is Lin because that’s how you came to know him and to love him though some part of you had known deep down the name was probably fake. Made no mistake. Yet even so it was an instinct you ignored. For after all a name is just another word.

All words are lies.

You shut your eyes. Replay the treachery that your close colleague in the embassy risked his life to record. Of all the words in all the world these were the worst you’d ever heard.

Your father sits across from you and folds his hands, as the recording carries on. That snakelike voice had been his second in command. He knows by now the throat from which it sounds was slit just before dawn.

Not the first snake you’d ever slaughtered.

“The boss doesn’t know that the bastard he’s after—” at this he can’t help but erupt into laughter: “he’s fucking the boss’s daughter.”

The boss clenches his jaw. As if for anyone to fuck you has to be against the law.

“It’s him, I know it’s him. I passed right by him once some months ago when I had business in that shithole Pentridge Prison. It’s the same damn face I saw.”

“We’ll if you’re certain, then we’ll just—”

“No, listen, listen: he’s too… valuable to simply arrest.”

This had been how the conversation went, between the traitor and your trusted friend: the friend who had recorded it, so that he could report it. While the snake spoke he just listened, and replied only enough to act as if he was on board with it. The snake thought he’d convince him in the end.

“This is an advantageous man. He’s an escaped convict with some steep fucking price on him; our boss and everybody at the embassy and the Aussie authorities, okay, and some of the local police, and all the underbelly enemies this motherfucker made here in Bombay, all of them want him—and on top of all of this apparently he’s worth something to Abdel Khader Fucking Khan.”

“So what do you propose we do?”

“If it’s so obvious to me, it should be obvious to you. We do him dirty. And the boss’s pretty little daughter too. They’re valuable to each other, and to others; most importantly he’s worth something to Khader. And the slut is worth a whole lot to her father. We’ll work undercover—boss won’t have a clue that we’re the ones who got her. You know the big fat Bombay racket of ransom and blackmail and threats. We’ll just crack it and win at whatever the fuck we can get.”

Eventually your father has heard enough. If you hadn’t already shown him proof of death he’d be paying a personal visit to this piece of shit to rip his head clean off.

After a few moments of silence, he studies your face to assess how affected you were by the kill. Your heart’s still too young to have gone numb to cold-blooded violence. The murder was righteous and leaves you no guilt, but it’ll be a while longer before you get over the blood that you’ve spilled.

Your father offers you a tissue—though your eyes are dry it’s just a natural habit that he has with you, when you’re working through issues—and pours you a glass of tea. “Did you take care of it yourself so that I’d grant the favor you’re about to ask of me?”

He asks lightheartedly, half-jokingly thanks to how well he knows you, and it is partially true. You know him well too. And you know just what his answer has to be.

Once years ago, he had entreated you to promise him you’d leave this life behind before you ran the risk of falling in too deep. You hadn’t made the promise though; you weren’t sure whether it was one that you could keep. You took the leap, and now you’ve fallen in as deep as you could go. Your father knew the choice was yours but he had never wanted you to be a part of this corrupt embassy caught up in the crime that cuts across this sweeping city where the price is always steep, especially when it feels cheap.

Yet in Bombay this is the only kind of life you’ve ever known, and this infinite living breathing poem of a city is your home. Where you were born and raised and loved and lived a life that’s full and free and all your own. There is no other place on earth you’d rather roam.

You couldn’t make the promise to your father then but now the time has come.

He’ll make a vow, right here and now—against all reason and all sense because he knows you need this desperately—to let the man called Lindsay Ford live and be free, as if the embassy had never learned of his identity.

He’ll make that promise if you make yours. And you will of course. Not in the spirit of some sort of quid pro quo, and not because you feel in any way pressured or forced; it’s just the way shit has to go. The unintelligible order of the universe. Your father loves you and he can’t live with himself if he grants clemency to such a wanted man—a dangerous man, one all the wrong kinds of people would find an advantageous man—knowing that your life is entwined with Lin’s and then… and then another snake happens. Or worse. The blood that’s spilled next time could very well be yours. Love comes with fear and that’s it’s curse.

For all your life from this day forth you’ll live in fear for Lindsay Ford: fear that his past caught up to him at last and got him killed or captured.

On this day, you’ll do your part to make that tragedy less likely, even if only just slightly, once you finally depart Bombay… but you’ll be powerless against whatever comes after.

You won’t be here. You’ll be off someplace faraway with a heart full of love and fear. Far more of each than you’d have thought you could afford.

With a heart full of Lindsay Ford.

***************

You tell him the whole truth because he deserves nothing less, and because he would fuck it right out of you anyway if you had tried. Taste it off of your lips and trace it through the cloth of your dress, through the skin that it sheathes, and through everything deeper beneath. Take the truth from the places he reaches inside. When he makes love to you this last time he knows you never lied.

He can only be free if you free yourself of him. The two of you can’t run away—the promise you had made to your father today isn’t just that you’re leaving Bombay. He had asked you to promise to steer clear of Lin because otherwise you’ll end up dead on account of how fiercely you love him.

In any other circumstances, you would have taken your chances—and your father would have blessed it—it’s your choice after all whom to love and die for. And yet it was your father’s choice whether or not to grant the illegal and potentially lethal favor you’d requested. He granted it only on the condition that your life wouldn’t be more at risk if he did; that was the peace of mind that he rightfully needed, and why wasn’t hard to decipher.

And so… this is just how it goes. Your head fights it a bit though. Your heart somehow knows.

Lin resists it at first; you had figured he would. His head looks like it’s going to burst. Tries to figure out some way to hold onto you for reasons that are honest and good, or at least that aren’t selfish and wrong. But until he met you he had been nothing other than selfish and wrong for so long. So damn long…

He realizes tonight more than ever before, that he isn’t that man anymore. That he’s no longer locked in the prison of his inner war.

For now all you can do, is just love him through one last release, into you, and then maybe he’ll finally have peace, to let you go without losing sight of the love for which his heart still beats that’s still worth running for. And still will be long after you’ve gone out the door.

Even after it closes, the doors to both his heart and yours will be open because of this love and he knows this. Open as you and he both like the door to be. Love set him free.

He lets you go knowing that every time he wakes to the sunrise it’s you he’ll see.

Someday you’ll see his great big book up on a shelf, and smile to yourself. Knowing that he’s alive and well then you’ll no longer be afraid. Before you left you had reminded him to keep the little promise he had made.

He will. Lin isn’t one to make a promise he can only half-fulfill.

But you’ll be there through all the dark and all the light—between and behind and inside every line that he’ll write. The sun itself shines just as bright in day or night. Survives the shifting of the skies. Half the world watches as it dies, the other half watches it rise. The whole of it is fire that no man could ever kill. That was the kind of wholeness he would find when he sought freedom in your eyes. And holds it still. Freedom to love until his heart has had its fill.

He won’t write you into his book, but you’ll be there to see for anyone who dares to really look.

Whether or not all words are lies, no matter what they can still mean things that are true… or fucking try to.

So he tries. And all the while, with a full heart and a whole smile, he writes for you.

***************

Much love and I hope you enjoyed this! 💖

Masterlist

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tmnt-obsessed-ace · 3 months

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We know about how Ghost would react to your SSDF au but what about your original iteration tmnt: solar flare?

Idk if I should answer this since I have barely even TALKED about tmnt: solar glare on this blog. Let alone actually get the turtles ref sheets made. But on the other hand making Ghost suffer is very fun...

So Im doing it anyways

@bluepeachstudios Im borrowing the sad old man again (he's too much fun not too)

Putting it all under a read more because spoilers for a lot of major plot points in solar flare. If you dont wanna be spoiled dont look

You have been warned :)

The first thing Ghost would think is "How the shell are these kids not dead?" Because the turtles are absolute DANGER MAGNETS

These absolute idiots, on their first night being on the surface:

FOUGHT THE GODDAMN SHREDDER

NEARLY GOT KILLED BY THE SHREDDER

Got sent to the Spirit Realm

Got attacked by angry spirits

Accidentally CURSED themselves by messing with something they were absolutely not supposed to mess with

Barely escaped the Spirit Realm, now fully cursed

Accidently UNLEASHED dozens of angry spirits into New York

And to make matters worse they got discovered followed back home by a HUMAN (April)

That was NIGHT ONE

Ghost and his brothers were lucky, they only fought Mousers and the Purple Dragons on their first night

And it only gets worse

That curse I mentioned, it has pros and cons. The pros being that it can turn the boys into literal shadows, enhance their strength and speed, make them near completely invulnerable to attack, actually let them attack the previously untouchable spirits, (let then turn into giant shadow monsters), etc. The CONS on the other hand is that the curse is slowly KILLING THEM. Draining more and more of their energy, breaking their bodies a little more each time. And the more that the cool shadow abilities are used the faster the effects are, the worse they'll get and the longer they'll last. Yeah. Ghost would absolutely not have a good time with that. (And would most definitely devote as much time as he could to trying to create a cure or at least find a way to lessen the side effects)

Anyways then theres the matter of the Spirits running loose, very strong, very angry vengeful spirits. That cant be knocked out or killed, they have to be banished back to the Spirit Realm. Which is not at all an easy task. (And considering that the boys will at one point spend an entire WEEK fighting those ghostly fucks practically nonstop to the point that they dont even go back to the lair until they are literally about to pass out from sheer exhaustion...yeah not fun. Ghost might have to carry them all back home) And there's also the Shredder and his growing army of goons causing trouble. Point is Ghost is gonna have a REALLY hard time keeping the kids from constantly fighting for their lives against incredibly strong enemies instead of actually being kids. Poor Ghost

The constant stress and fear along is definitely straining the boys' relationships with each other.

Especially between Leo and Raph. The two closest siblings of the family. The ones that said they were twins and stood by that for their entire lives.

And now they're arguing practically all the time. Cant even go one mission without at least one argument. Leo making reckless plans thinking they'll work perfectly fine then panicking when things inevitably go south and Raph getting angry at him for "screwing up" only because Raph is absolutely TERRIFIED. And Ghost trying to be the mediator, but its hard when you have two incredibly stubborn sixteen year old boys at each other's throats. (Ghost is reminded of the many many Raph-Leo fights that his own Raphael and Leonardo used to have. Only somehow, these are worse.) It just escalates and escalates further and further until one night.

When Raph and Leo actually FIGHT each other.

And it ends when Raph full on quits the team and leaves. Leaves Leo alone on that rooftop, in the pouring rain. (Ghost will never forget that shocked, borderline horrified look on Leo's face as the reality and the guilt over what just happened sets in)

Raph doesnt come home.

Ghost thought he just needed time to cool off but he still doesnt come home. It gets to the point that he tracks the red clad turtle down.

Only to find him in the Footclan headquarters.

Raph had joined the Footclan because he was so tired of the fighting, the arguing.

(Obviously Ghost would go over there to try and break Raph out by any means necessary, even when Raph refuses to leave. He didnt want to join his family's biggest enemies but he was angry when he said yes and now he thinks he's in too deep to leave, even despite Ghost's attempts to reason with him)

Which leads to Leo to do something really, really, really stupid. Not saying what because major spoilers but it ends with him willingly offering himself up to be taken to another dimension in exchange for his family being spared the same fate.

What would happen to him there? Ghost doesnt know.

But that swirling white portal, his child being handcuffed and pushed through despite how hard everyone, Ghost included, is begging for this not to happen, no matter how hard he fights against his own restraints he cant free himself, it breaks something inside him.

All he can do is watch helplessly as Leo disappears into a portal, just like he did when he was sixteen himself, presumably to never be seen again.

Leo is gone for an entire month.

An entire of Ghost obsessively working on the portal with Donnie, trying so so hard to get it to work so they can find him. A month of trying to keep the family together and comfort his poor children who are falling apart at the seams. (Donnie doesnt sleep much anymore, trying so incredibly hard to get the portal working, even moreso than Ghost. Mikey teetering on the verge of a breakdown, going out with April and Casey to search for any signs of Leo every single night. Raph is consumed with guilt, it had been HIS fault that this whole mess happened, and now the poor boy is trying desperately to help his family while also trying to defect from the Footclan, which isnt easy.) A month of searching for the people that took Leo away, a month of hoping and praying that Leo was alright.

And then Leo comes home, with a white samurai rabbit in tow (Despite everything, Ghost finds it a little amusing that some things never change, even across dimensions)

He's different now. Quieter, not nearly as excited as he used to be. His arms and legs are completely wrapped up in black wrappings, up to the shoulder and upper thighs respectively. And he refuses to take the wrappings off. (He now has a slight limp on his right side, his brothers dont notice it but Ghost absolutely does.) And most importantly he refuses to talk about what happened when they were separated. Always saying "Its nothing." "I dont wanna talk about it." "There's nothing to talk about." "I'm fine."

Ghost is worried about him, obviously something happened. Something bad enough to turn the silly, dorky, hero-wannabe kid into this quiet, reclusive, guarded boy. Usagi knows as well but just says its not his story to tell.

Ghost tries to talk to him but every time he gets brushed off. (He did manage to figure out it somehow involved the Battle Nexus, from the tiny bits of information Leo shared. Though he highly doubts it was the same Battle Nexus he used to know) All he can do is provide comfort whenever Leo seeks him out, usually late at night and usually the result of a nightmare. (Which have become much much more frequent, only adding to Ghost's worry)

And unfortunately Leo is not the only one going through hell.

Because not long after Leo's return and Raph finally leaving the Footclan, Mikey gets captured. It would be bad enough if it was Shredder or the Krang. But it is so much worse and makes Ghost's blood run cold.

Mikey was captured by the EPF.

Ghost vividly remembers how a similar situation happened to him and his own Michelangelo. (How Mikey was almost dissected in front of him, how his own mid was torn apart for all the world to see. Bishop...)

The family hurriedly breaking into the EPF lab, hoping that they'll find Mikey in time.

They didnt.

Mikey wasnt as lucky as Ghost's Michelangelo.

Bishop, that sick twisted bitch, actually cut Mikey open.

Ghost's worst fear had been realized.

(Ghost never wants to see Mikey's bloody plastron and exposed ribcage ever again for as long as he lives. Watching his frantic heart gradually slow the more blood gushed out.)

And it only gets worse

Because Mikey, in a desperate last ditch effort to try and escape, he somehow activated a part of the curse that no one knew they had.

The ability to transform.

He had turned into a massive DRAGON made entirely of shadows (the only reason they knew it was him was because of the bright orange markings on the shadow dragon's body.)

And the dragon went on a rampage, obliterating the EPF lab including majority of the staff. (Unfortunately Bishop survived, which was a shame) and once the lab was destroyed it attacked New York, trying to tear everything apart in blind fear and panic. (Those terrified screeches will haunt Ghost for the rest of his life.)

It nearly killed them all trying to calm Mikey back down enough to get him home and stitched up. (And then clinging to Ghost like a scared koala for a very long time, not like Ghost can blame him.) And the worst part of this whole Dragon affair? Mikey cant CONTROL IT.

So that means the second his emotions get out of control, here comes the terrified dragon that will lash out at anyone perceived as a threat. (Which is anything that moves.)

And each time Mikey is beating himself up with immense guilt and fear that he will hurt the people he loves.

This is only the tip of the Solar Flare trauma train.

There will be more. (Raph and Donnie are gonna get their's too. So will April, Casey, and Splinter)

Other traumatic/weird events include:

Donnie getting kidnapped by Karai, which leads to April and their parents getting kidnapped. Which leads to April getting thrown off a building and Karai losing her entire arm. April is only 13 in this au btw so oh boy Karai better fucking run because once GHOST hears about that she might lose more than an arm.

Leo gets turned into a cat

Raph and Mikey get kidnapped by clowns

The boys get captured by an alien bounty hunter and taken to a completely different galaxy. Poor Ghost is gonna have an absolute heart attack.

The boys bring home a giant sea monster and keep it as a pet in the sewers. (They name it Jeffrey. Ghost left them alone for five minutes HOW DID THEY DO THIS?!?!)

Both RAPH AND LEO get thrown through the window in the Krang invasion. And Raph ends up in a coma (Leo already had his turn in a coma) Ghost having an absolute heart attack reliving this awful moment TWICE.

April's parents find out about the turtles (and later their paternal grandparents find out when the fam go to stay at their farmhouse)

The turtles are gonna be stuck in a timeloop for an entire month. (The entire month leading up to the Krang Invasion. They went from having a month to prevent it to only having a day and a half. Which is why the invasion happens.) Ghost will never forget that look of pure dread on his kids's faces when they looked up at the blood red sky filled with krangships. This is exactly what he didnt want to happen, his kids having to grow up too fast and get into problems far too big for them.

Also bonus: the turtles first meet Casey by literally RUNNING HIM OVER. The kids call Ghost frantically saying that they "accidently murdered someone what do we do?"

Poor Ghost, poor traumatized turtles

Lol

#tmnt ghost in the shell #tmnt: solar flare #borrowing ghost is so fun #put him in fun situations #I really need to talk about Solar Flare more #and get alk the reference sheets drawn ._.#lol

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