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afictionalwhor3 · 10 months

Text

Speechless

A/N: I fear I may be back in my top gun maverick era. I wanna work on being more consistent but no promises. I'm pretty sure this would be considered smut with plot so enjoy sexies :).

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ minors do not interact), oral m!receiving, unprotected pinv, praise/degradation, dirty talk

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"Y/N!" Bradley yells up the stairs for you checking his watch for the thousandth time. You had so many qualities he admired. How loving you were, your intelligence, your ability to reassure him when he didn't even know he needed it. However, timeliness was not on your tool belts of assets. A trait that drove perfectionist always on time Bradley insane to no extent. And if you took any longer the two of you would officially be late to Coyote's wedding. "If you aren't down here in the next two minutes I am leaving without you!" He yells up the stairs.

"Oh stop it no you're not. Don't get your panties in a bunch it takes a lady a while to look good" You say walking downstairs. At the sound of your heels clicking down the stairs, Bradley looks up to say something smart in reply but the words get lodged in his throat. You looked absolutely enchanting. The color of the dress not only complimented your skin, but it hugged you in all the perfect places like it was made just for you. The slit showed off your perfect legs while the neckline left plenty to the imagination. You walked over to him fixing his tie and brushing off the shoulders of his suit "Cat got your tongue?" You ask with a smirk wrapping your arms around his neck. Finally getting some sense about himself Rooster places his hands on your hips looking at you.

"No sorry I just was not expecting all of this," He says making you smile and kiss his still-shocked face.

"When my date looks this good it's only right I match it." You reply and it's Rooster's turn to smirk. He takes one of your hands in his and makes you do a spin as you laugh softly. He whistles lowly before pulling you in close to his body.

"I say wedding be damned, we stay here tonight and I ravage you." Bradley whispers and you smirk placing a hand on his chest.

"Hold your horses there lieutenant. Weren't you the one just yelling about us being late and leaving me? And if you think I just spent hours getting myself together so we could not go out? You are very very sadly mistaken. Maybe if you play your cards the right way you can get lucky tonight," You wink giving him another kiss before walking away to grab your purse and the gift. "Well come on Bradshaw we are going to be late," You say with a smirk as you start walking outside to the car. Bradley can't do anything besides shake his head before quickly locking the house up and following you.

~ Coyote's wedding ceremony was beautiful. Weddings always made you cry and Rooster wouldn't admit it but seeing some of his closest friends get married invoked some sensitive emotions in himself as well. He spent a large part of the ceremony fidgeting with the ring on your finger waiting, rather impatiently, for the day it's the two of you up there promising your souls to each other for the rest of your lives. Now the two of you resided at the wedding reception which lasted late into the night. Both you and Rooster, as well as the other Top Gun crew, were more than a few drinks in. After Bradley had to help Bob get into an Uber with Phoenix you both decided to call it a night getting an Uber back to your respective hotel suite.

Getting back to your room you open the door heading right for the king-size bed so you could collapse onto it. "Roos can you take my shoes off please? I'm pretty sure I'm going to have bunions after all the dancing I did tonight" You say as Rooster smiles and takes his suit jacket off throwing it on the back of a nearby chair. He gets on his knees in front of you kissing the inside of both your legs before he gets to work on your heels.

"I told you that you should've taken these off a lot sooner than you did. And I offered to carry you multiple times, you know I don't care" He says gently massaging your foot after he manages to get the shoe off. You moan softly at how good it feels.

"Yeah I know but I hate giving you the benefit of being right," You say stubbornly making Bradley smile. After your second foot is taken care of Bradley begins to kiss up your body slowly. When he gets to the beginning of your slit he looks into your eyes his pupils blown from lust. Despite what your head, and pussy, are telling you you push his head away. "I have to go the bathroom," You announce, and before Rooster can say anything else you run into the bathroom. Somewhat stunned Rooster stays there for a few seconds before sighing and standing up assuming you just aren't up for it tonight. He sits on the bed taking his shoes and socks off before he stands up to take off his cuff links and tie. In the process of unbuttoning his shirt, he hears the bathroom door open and turns to look at you and once again he is left speechless.

Before him you stand in a lingerie set he has never seen before. The sheer material of most of it does little to conceal Rooster's favorite parts of you. You walk over to him slowly making sure to sway your hips a little extra. When you finally reach him you take his shirt out of his hands and begin undoing the rest of the buttons. You look at him with a smirk on your face,

"Lieutenant, to have you speechless not once but twice tonight. That has to be a new record for me" You say. When you're done with his shirt you grab him by his belt and guide him until he falls on the bed. Once again trying to gather his bearings Bradley says,

"When you'd g-get this set?" He asks and you can't help but chuckle as you sink to your knees before him.

"Real smooth Bradshaw. Real smooth" You say smiling as you can see Rooster's face start to turn red. You continue your previous actions unbuckling his belt and with his help getting his pants off. Next is rubbing your hand gently over his bulge gauging his reactions. After a while you start to apply more pressure and move a little bit faster before Rooster grabs your wrist, "If you keep going I'm going to bust in my pants like some horny teenager" He says making you smirk.

"So what would you like from me Bradley? My mouth?" You ask kissing over his bulge as Bradley whimpers and nods his head.

"Fuck yes baby please," He says making you smirk. It wasn't often you got Bradley to submit to you like this, always having an incessant need to be in control. So, when you could get him like this it felt awfully good. You take his boxers off exposing his hard and angry length. You kiss his tip making him whimper again,

"Awe it's okay baby. I'm gonna take care of it." You promise before slowly taking his length in your mouth. Rooster throws his head back moaning out for you. You watch as his fists grip the sheets tightly the deeper you go onto his cock. After spending a few minutes bobbing up and down on his cock, you come up for air spitting on his cock and using one hand to stroke it. The other only teased his balls.

"Y/n fuck yes. Fuck you're taking care of my cock baby." He says making you smirk. He sits up on his elbows so he can admire your work and your own mouth waters at his chiseled physique. The man had to have been chiseled by the gods the way you could count each muscle on his body. Bradley noticed you staring and began flexing subtly for you. There was a moment when you were pretty sure you were dripping onto the sheets. You take his cock back into your mouth and at the feeling of how wet your pussy is you sneak a hand down to touch yourself over your panties. "Fuck you look so hot playing with yourself right now. How'd I get so fucking lucky?" He asks in between moans making you smile.

Relaxing your throat to go deep on his cock as your hand takes a more firm grip on his balls massaging them. After only a few seconds Rooster pulls you off him and pulls you up to meet him. "If you kept going with that I would've busted everywhere and I need to cum in your pussy" Rooster says making you smirk. You press your lips to his letting your hands wander over his body while Rooster sits up to take the rest of his shirt off and let his hands roam the familiar planes of your body.

He pulls away from the kiss to lay kisses on your neck and expertly takes your bra off tossing it somewhere in the room. He brings your boob into his mouth swirling his tongue around your nipple and using his free hand to play with the other one before he switches sides. You push him onto his back after a few moments "Let's make tonight about you baby" You say taking your panties off and straddling his length. You give him a few courtesy pumps before lining yourself up and slowly sliding on. Rooster's hands fly to your waist and guide you down. You fall forward bracing yourself against his chest. You bite your lip willing yourself to get adjusted to him. No matter how many times the two of you had sex, every time he entered you it was like the first time all over again. When you were ready Rooster began to guide you up and down on his cock, both your moans mixing with each other. Willing yourself to go faster you whined as it wasn't enough and before you even had to say anything Rooster pulled you into himself and began to fuck up into you.

"Bradley! Oh my god! That's my fucking g-spot. Shit you're fucking pounding it!" You moan loudly while Rooster applies a few slaps to your ass making you moan even louder.

"You're so fucking sexy. Wearing that slutty fucking lingerie for me. Had that on all night knowing we'd come back here and I'd fuck you. Such a perfect slut for me" Rooster says turning your face to kiss his passionately all teeth and tongue.

Before you can process what's happening Rooster is pulling out of you to flip you on your stomach helping you to all fours. Lining himself up once again he pounds right into you this time making you arch over. "Fuck!" You moan loudly. Looking down at you Rooster swears itself enough to make him bust right there. He leans over to kiss your shoulder and snake his hand around your body to play with your clit.

"I need you to cum for me baby cause I'm about to blow a loud so deep in your pussy. Come on be a good girl for me cum on my cock. My good little whore there you go baby" He says and every word that comes out his mouth has your pussy spasming until your basically yelling while you cum harder than you think you ever have. Fucking you through your high the spasms of your pussy finally push Rooster over the edge as he fills your pussy up. His body lays on tops of yours while you try to catch your breath and make sense of what just happened.

After a few minutes pass Rooster slowly and gently pulls out of you making you whine. He goes to get a washcloth out the bathroom running it under warm water before he comes back and cleans you up gently while you whimper at how sensitive your pussy feels. Rooster goes back into the bathroom to clean himself up before he comes back to you helping you onto your back and getting into bed. You immediately snuggle into him while he wraps his strong arms around you. You bury your head in his neck taking in his scent. Rooster traces aimless shapes along your back and hip "I didn't go too hard at the end there right?" He asks while you shake your head and press a kiss to his jaw.

"No it was just right." You say already feeling your body becoming heavy with sleep.

"That's alright baby get your sleep because after I feed you tomorrow morning I have a few things to get you back for. You left me speechless twice tonight which warrants at least four orgasms. At least" He says as your mouth hangs open and he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead as if the filthiest words didn't just come out of his mouth.

"I love you baby. Get some sleep you're definitely going to need it"

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster smut #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x black!reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x black!reader

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booppooo · 1 year

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abby+fem!reader besties but then an accidental kiss happens and things end up with eye contact and reader getting finger fucked <3

Another Level

Abby Anderson x Fem! Reader Headcannons

AN: so well put anon, thank you for this request <3 friends to lovers will always make me froth at the mouth

Warnings: friends to lovers as mentioned, fingering

So, you and Abby are in the infamous library you both deem a second home

You're running your fingers across the spines of books, searching for your favorites and gushing over them to each other

Every time Abby pulls something off the shelf and gets into the groove of practically professing her love for the novel, you can't help but get lost in her

Her eyes darting across the pages, strong fingers flipping through the pages, soft lips tugging into a smile

It gave you ample time to study her freckles and the glint in her eye, as well how expansive her pupils might get if you leaned in a little closer

Honestly, you had no intention of giving off how drawn you were to her, she had made it pretty clear to you her eyes were set on men

But then, your chest accidentally brushed against the top of the book, and Abby's stare shot up to meet your face which had magically gotten closer

She went to apologize - a simple sorry - but the last syllable fell flat as a reddish hue colored her cheeks

You would think with her face on fire, the multicolored masterpiece that were her eyes would flicker around the room to avoid your sturdy stare

Much to your surprise (perhaps fear) she kept her gaze sturdy

Then you realized: of course she wouldn't back down! She was a rock solid solider who stared death in the face day in and out, a little awkward encounter wouldn't make her falter

However, it was more than an awkward encounter, because in the time you used to piece everything together, a dense tension made itself welcome

The book found its home back on the shelf, Abby's eyes narrowed and a faint smirk dared to creep across her lips

Now it was your turn to blush and stammer

The next few seconds were blurry at best, consisting of your eyes almost popping from your head and someone profusely apologizing

However, you didn't miss the fact that Abby's lips were indeed on yours

"Watch it!" Abby barked at the bystander who must've shoved her by accident, he cowered out of her sight and from the library

"Are you alright?" You knew how hot headed she could get

She tsked, crossing her arms and leaning against the shelf before her attention was fully on you again

"Fine." In an instant her tone had gone from stern to...nervous?

Then settled back in that tension, heavy and hot

Abby's quick (but not so sly) eyes flashed down to your lips, then she cleared her throat and took another shot at apologizing

"Oh, no you're fine - I'm sure everyone's kissed their best friend before." You tried to keep the mood lighthearted, but the anxious squeak in your voice betrayed you

The part you forgot to mention was that best friends don't get excited when they kiss each other

And not excited in the caught-off-guard way...but below-the-belt way

You tried to pull your head from the gutter, that was until Abby's legs shifted

This normally would go undetected, however, the shift was all to familiar because you had been in this position with Abby countless times and that squeeze of her thighs was telling

So you weren't imagining it all!

"Uh, you just wanna go back to my room?" Her words rung in your ear like a gun firing in a silent forest

"Sure!" You replied, too enthusiastically

You get back to the room, and she locks the door??!!! Pulls the curtains?!!

"Wanna watch a movie?" You query as she busy's herself with some of her items

"We can, you know where everything's at."

By the time you have the film in the DVD player and plopped yourself on the couch, Abby is comfortably seated beside you

Almost effortlessly her arm drapes behind you and in an instant she has your attention again

This time your eyes are darting down to her lips, bits and pieces of what happened earlier starting to become clearer in your mind

"Y/n, can I do something?" You obliged.

Then her index and thumb pinched your chin, pulling you into her lips where she proceeded to turn your limbs into mush

When her tongue made a slick and speedy appearance, you softly gasped through your nose

She barely pulled away, "Are you okay?"

You hummed affirmatively, too breathless to produce any real words

Then you found yourself even more breathless when her palm found your thigh, she checked in with you again and you could only express your need with another hum

The warmth of her hand slid further along your thigh, reaching where your legs met, her pinky pressed gently against your groin

"Can I do this?" Her face still impossibly close to yours

"Yeah-" you choked out, "Yes." You wish you could express how encouraged this was

With your consent in full, Abby carefully shifted your thighs just how she wanted them - a hefty distance between them

When her steamy palm snaked under your pants and panties, a faint sweat broke out across your brow, Abby stopped to check in with you

"Please, I'm fine, just please-" your waist pressed against her wrist

"Okay then.." she chuckled

By this time a decent amount of slick had accumulated; as if your hot cheeks, kisses, and longing looks weren't telling enough of your desperation for Abby

One of her digits tested your heat, finding the source of your slick and spreading what she could get on her finger toward your clit

When she reached your nerves, you sighed, then whined at her slow pace

"Tell me babe, what do you want me to do?"

'Babe'...a tear ran down your thigh !

"In...inside, please." The words fought to leave your constricting throat

Abby scoffed in surprise, but wouldn't withhold anything from you at this point, so in went one of her fingers

And when it curved to hit that spot that made your thighs clench, a breathy moan escaped your lips

"Mmhmm, sounds good." Abby teased, pecking below your ear

Her thumb resumed a steady pattern on your clit, and before you knew it two fingers were curling inside of you making your entire being useless (moaning and squirming were the exception)

"Beautiful.." Abby hummed, forcing you closer toward the edge by running her tongue across your jaw

By now, the provocative squelch of her knuckles deep inside of you had almost overpowered the movie

Abby had repositioned herself for a better angle and really put her training to work (she mentally noted to pay extra attention to her forearms)

Your eyelids grew droopy, lower abdomen incredibly tense and all your nerves hot

"Like that-" you huffed, stuffing your face into the crook of Abby's neck and nodding against her

She obliged, because if Abby was good at doing one thing, it was following orders, especially if she knew the outcome would be worth it

And seeing your daintier hand clasp onto her forearm, jaw drop and thighs snap shut was so, so worth it

Like the moan that exploded from your mouth, your orgasm exploded on Abby's fingers and rippled up your spine, muscles involuntarily bucking your hips in rhythm with her

"That's right, ride it out.." her words sultry and velvety in your ear

When your climax died down and her motions became too much, you sighed for her to slow to a stop and helped guide her hand from your ruined pants

Her fingers were covered in...well, you, and she didn't skip a beat sticking them in her mouth, swirling her tongue to clean them well

What did your friendship mean now?

#abby anderson #abby anderson fan fiction #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader

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viiiiiiiiiin · 7 months

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Hiiiiii viiiiiiiiin!!!!!!!! Hope your doing just lovely💗💗💗💗❤❤❤❤❤❤. Last fic you wrote for me was so good thank you again your the best.!!!!😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺😭😭💋💋💋💋 I was again wondering if I could please request the same type of reader(fem pls) from last time x red hair pirates again but in a different scenario it could anything from fluff/cute or angst just anything.

Thank you so much 💋💋💋😭😭🥺🥺. Have a super duder amazing day!!!!!❤💗❤❤💗❤💗

~🍮 anon~

Red Haired Pirates x Fem ! Sweet / Naive Reader

Includes: Red Haired Pirates and Female Reader

A / N: Hey Puddin !! I'm glad you're requesting from me again !! I'm always happy to write for the red haired sillies LOL. I hope you have an amazing day as well <33 Also , you can call me Vin or Vix ! Sorry that this is a lot shorter than normal !! I hope you still enjoy <3

It was another casual day on the Red Force. Everyone was either chilling or playing games. You were in the kitchen , swaying your hips to a song you were whistling. You had found another recipe that you wanted to try out. It happened to be a chocolate mousse cake with a smooth exterior.

You hummed some sea shanties as you sprinkled unflavored gelatin powder over a small dish filled with water. While waiting for the gelatin to become gelatinous and clear , you heated a pot of heavy cream just until it started steaming. When the gelatin 'bloomed' , you whisked it into the heavy cream.

While you were whisking , the door to the kitchen was pushed ajar. You didn't bother to look over since you knew they weren't gonna bother you. You checked the mixer to see if the cream came out as stiff peaks , which it did. You smiled while you whipped egg whites along with cream of tartar and sugar to create a fluffy meringue.

From behind you , you heard a gruff voice speak to you. "Are you making some kind of fluffy cake ?" It was the captain of the ship himself , Red Haired Shanks. The two mixes you made were individually folded into the bowl of chocolate you set aside a bit ago. To fold , you used a rubber spatula to gently run it around the mousse and through.

"I'm making a Chocolate Mousse cake !" You responded cheerily. You continued folding the batter around until it was the perfect consistency. You poured it into the cake platter and pushed it into the already preheated oven. You turned to your captain and brought the rubber spatula to his lips. "Here , try it ! It's a new recipe that I wanted to try out." As your words slipped past your lips , his tongue trailed along the utensil.

"Sweetheart , this is delicious !" He laughed heartily and took the spatula from your hand to finish it. "Thank you , Shanks !" His laugh was contagious. Because of that fact , it caused you to laugh along with him.

"Lucky wanted to know if ya needed any help in here , but it don't seem like you need any lil missy." He patted your head , ruffling your (color) locks. Your smile widened as you pulled him into a hug.

"Oh ! When you're done , Beck says he has a surprise for ya." Shanks spoke smoothly , placing his arm around your smaller waist. "Ooh ! I have the timer going , so can I come now ?!" You asked , stars lighting up in your doe like eyes.

"Of course !" He pulled away from your embrace and gently pushed you towards the door. "Hey , Beck ! Lil Missy wants to see her surprise !" Shanks shouted from across the deck to his first mate.

"I'm right here , Shanks. There's no need to shout for me." Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The gray haired man stepped out of the shadows and stood next to you and the captain. Shanks' brown eyes met with Benn's black ones. The one armed man chuckled and stumbled away from you as Benn walked towards you. He handed you a small , black bag.

"Here. We feel bad that we ruined one of your other bathing suits , so we pitched in and got you some new ones. Along with that perfume that you said you liked. Yasopp also got you a necklace with your name engraved on it." As he said that , he showed you the red heart pendant that said 'Sweetheart of the Red Haired Pirates' on the back.

As you read it , you huffed. "Sweetheart of the Red Haired Pirates ??" Cue some laughs erupting from the crew who now surrounded the two of you. Despite your initial embarrassment from the necklace , you looked back at them with tears filling your eyes.

The crew started panicking. You heard variations of 'we didn't mean to hurt you' and stuff like that. You laughed and held the bag close to your chest. "Thank you , everyone. I appreciate it." Your smile could replace the sun , according to them. It was so bright and so sweet that it made them question how you were even a wanted criminal in the first place.

Benn patted your back gently and gave you a soft smile. "Glad you like it , doll." Your face burned a bit , but you just smiled kindly at him. "Why don't we have a party for our little missy ?!" You heard your captain yell. You turned your (color) eyes towards his direction and noticed him slamming down bottles of alcohol. The crew cheered and basically all yelled 'hell yeah !'

---

Though the party raged on , you had to retreat to the kitchen to check on your dish. You combined the layers together and waited for it to cool on the stove. You sat on the counter and huffed. As much as you loved the boys , they could be a bit too rowdy for you sometimes.

Being in the kitchen by yourself gave you the quiet time you needed to rejuvenate. Your eyes turned to the door as you heard it crack open. Your eyes met with playful brown ones. "Oh , hey Yasopp !"

"What up , missy ?" He replied , closing the door behind him. "Whatcha doin' in here ? The party is out there." He walked over to your side and stared down at you , his smirk never leaving his face.

"Oh ! I was finishing up this chocolate mousse cake ! And I needed a bit of quiet time. Hope I didn't upset you guys too much !" As if to make up for it , you kissed his chin. He laughed and slung an arm around your shoulder. "You didn't upset us ! We were worried aboutcha." He shrugged and put his large hand on your smaller head.

"I'm sorry , I didn't mean to worry you guys . ." A hint of sadness coated your voice. This made Yasopp feel horrible. He panicked and smiled nervously. "No , fuck. That's not what I meant. Forget what I said. Did ya make the cake for us ?" He asked in an attempt to change the topic. It worked. It seemed like you had completely forgotten what he said previously.

"Yeah ! I hope I made it big enough. Wanna try a piece ?" You asked as you began cutting slices into it. You pulled a piece off and placed it onto a clean plate. "Only if ya feed it to me !" He laughed and placed his rifle on the table.

You nodded and got a fork from the drawer next to the cabinet. You took a piece off of the cake and placed it towards his lips. "Say ah ~" He opened his mouth and you gently placed the slice on his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the fork and made a noise of satisfaction.

"You're gonna feed him and not me ?? Wow , Sweetheart. I'm - HIC - I'm offended !" You heard from the doorway. Your head snapped over to find the source of the voice , Shanks. He had clearly drunken too much. You swore that he would find any chance he could to drink.

"Oh , come on ya oaf. I'll feed you too." You handed the plate to the blonde , who gratefully accepted the offer. He picked his weapon up from the table and walked outside with a smile on his face.

You cut a piece off for Shanks and fork fed him as well. "And what about us ??" You sighed and shook your head playfully as you noticed the line behind the red haired captain.

---

After cutting off slices and feeding everyone , you were exhausted. You sat against the door of the kitchen and watched everyone play around and sing loudly.

You shifted as you felt someone sit beside you. "Hey , Roux. Did ya enjoy the cake ?" You asked happily. "Is that even a question ? Definitely. You're the baker of the Red Haired Pirates , missy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He took a bite from the meat he had in his left hand and laughed.

"Of course ! I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's a new recipe." You informed , taking a sip from the alcohol you had gotten earlier. "Really ? It was VERY good." He complimented while putting hid large hand on the small of your back.

"Aww !! Thanks !!" Your cheeks lit up a red shade from his compliment. You kissed his cheek and giggled softly. "Heyyy ! I want one too !!" You heard from a drunken crewmate. Another line . . Sigh.

---

After hugging and kissing everyone's chin or cheek , you were more tired. Without knowing , you ended up passing out on the deck.

---

You woke up in the women's quarters , accompanied by Beck and Shanks. You jumped out of bed and stared at them. "What are you two doing here ?"

Benn rolled to his side and yawned. "Mornin' sleepy head. You asked us to stay." You tilted your head at his words. "Yeah , you begged us to stay here with ya , Missy." Came the voice of Shanks from your right. You scratched your cheek from embarrassment.

"Fuck , sorry you two." You kissed both of their foreheads before you were dragged back down by Shanks.

"Now hush up and go back to sleep , Reader." Before you could complain , you heard light snoring from behind you. It was Shanks , of course. He was already out. You couldn't leave either , since both of them had their arms trapping you against the bed.

Eventually , you just let it happen. The smell of smoke , cologne , and alcohol have you a slight headache , but it lulled you back into sleep.

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leafjoon · 9 months

Text

Between the Lines - pt. I

tbhc!alex x reader this chapter is bascially a slow burn, fluffy vibe charged w some sexual tension between the reader who is in college n our beloved alix who becomes her editor. warnings: age gap, alex is 33, reader is in her 20's, cursing, alcohol.

In the heart of the university campus, a quaint café served as a haven for students. Seated at a cozy corner table Y/N and her best friend, Sophie, found comfort in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the hum of hushed conversations.

The soft glow of pendant lights cast a warm ambiance over mismatched wooden furniture, creating a warm atmosphere. Amidst the rustling of students immersed in textbooks and the distant murmur of espresso machines, Y/N and Sophie navigated the labyrinth of academia.

"Ugh, I suck," you groaned, holding your English lit paper in your hands.

"You don't," said Sophia.

"I got a C, Soph."

"Didn’t you do this on three hours of sleep?" she looked at you.

"Yeah," you grumbled.

"You'll do better next time."

"Ugh. I know. It's just such a blow to my confidence," you said, sipping on your ginger tea.

"I know. But this grade doesn't determine your skills. You're great at writing," she said, swirling her spoon in her iced coffee.

"Well. That's debatable," you replied.

She glared at you.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop talking shit about myself," you rolled your eyes.

"Good." She said pleased with your answer.

You scanned the coffee shop and saw students going about their normal routines. Some of them were hurrying to get to their lectures on time. Others were lazing around in their seats, talking to their friends. Chatter filled the room as you let out a stressed out sigh. You sulked, not knowing how you were gonna recover from this grade.

"Anyway, as I was telling you. I asked my dad about Mr. Turner. He said you can give him a call and ask him to check out your novel."

"Oh god,” you groaned. “I mean-thank you so much. I don't wanna seem ungrateful, I just-I don't know. It feels awkward showing someone my short novel. If you can even call it that,” you rambled.

"I get it. I get embarrassed when I show my tutor my paintings. And he always has something to say," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Soph, your paintings are incredible. And your guy is good."

"That's true," she said, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

You smiled at her. You loved your best friend. You met in high school and became close friends senior year. You used to spend hours at each other's places, watching shows and mulling over the characters. She was one of the few people who was there for you through thick and thin and you weren't afraid to show your vulnerable side to her, insecurities and all.

"I'll send you his phone number and you can contact him whenever."

"Okay. Will do." You said, scrunching your face.

"If you don't do it, I will.”

"Ugh, I'll do it, I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

"I can't wait to go out on Friday. I need to get drunk and forget," you groaned.

"Same. We've been too stressed out lately. We need to let loose," Sophie added.

You and Sophie had a tradition. No matter the circumstances you always went out on the weekend. You often drank alcohol at your favorite bar or club and danced until your feet were numb and your hearts were pounding. Then you stumbled to one of your dorms and ate junk food or watched a shitty movie.

Sophie looked down at her phone, her clock reading 1:47 PM.

"Well, I have to run. I have Literary Criticism soon,” she remarked.

"With Mr. spits when he talks?" you replied.

"That's the one," she said, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

You chuckled. "Good luck."

"I’ll see you later," she leaned down, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You, on the other hand, finished your lectures for the day. Your Mondays weren't as rough, consisting of only two lectures in the morning and god, were you thankful for that.

Your eyes darted to your phone screen, after you received a notification from Sophie.

Alexander Turner

+378 09 998 890

Anxiety gnawed at you. You took a deep breath and told yourself It’s fine. He gets paid for this kind of job. He’s probably seen worse writing.

You decided to be brave and text him as there's no way you were calling him.

Hello Mr. Turner. Peter Herring recommended you as an editor. I am currently working on a short novel and I am interested in hiring you. Would you be interested in that? Thank you in advance.

You typed it out, reading it again. You erased the words ‘short novel’ leaving it blank.

"Ugh." You said out loud. You decided to retype it and send it without thinking too much, letting out a sigh of relief.

As you were scrolling on your phone, it suddenly started vibrating and a number appeared. It read Mr. Turner.

Oh god. Why the hell is he calling me? Doesn’t this guy know how to text?

You answered your phone hesitantly, bringing it to your ear.

"Hello?" you said.

"Hi." a low voice spoke.

"Um. Is this Mr. Turner?"

"Yeah. What's your name, love? You didn't introduce yourself," he said in a thick British accent.

"Oh-um, I'm (Y/N)."

"Alright, (Y/N). You're interested in hiring an editor, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Great. How's Wednesday evening work for you? 7pm, my office? We can discuss the details then."

"Um, Wednesday evening? Yeah I'm good with that," you said.

"Alright. I'll send you my address then. Don't forget your novel," he added.

"Yes. Thank you," you sputtered.

And with that he hung up the phone. You stood there bewildered at this phone call. You just agreed to go to this random man's office on a Wednesday. You had no idea he was british. Why didn't Soph tell you he was british?

Well I guess you have an editor now.

In the sanctuary of your dormitory, you and Sophie nestled on your sofa as you found comfort beneath your favorite blanket.

"I had no idea he was british! His accent was so thick Soph. Like, I had never heard it before."

Sophie was laughing at you. "I thought I mentioned it."

"Well you didn't. Nothing could have prepared me for that. He was so swift and straight to the point. Skipped all the usual bullshit."

"Yep, that's Turner for you," she replied.

"How did your dad meet him again?" you inquired.

"Oh, he was his student in college. Mr. Turner lived in London for a few years and then moved here after my dad recommended him for this sort of writing position," she shrugged.

"Huh. That's interesting," you said. "Hey, what does this guy look like?" you asked, your curiosity peaking.

"Hmm. Let me show you his Facebook," she said.

"His Facebook?" you asked, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"What? He doesn't have Instagram. He's in his 30s." she added.

"Right," you nodded. You got up and sat next to her, both of you staring at her phone. She found his Facebook page and clicked on his photos.

"He's kinda cute," you said, breaking the silence. Sophie chuckled at your reaction. "He’s good looking," she shrugged.

He had big brown eyes and medium length hair that went past his ears, down to the nape of his neck. His beard seemed neat and trimmed.

"Don't get any ideas now," she looked at you, teasing. "I'm not. I want to see how he looks like so I'm not completely blind sided when I get there."

"Anyway," you continued. "Do you wanna sleep over tonight? My roomie's not here."

"Oh my gosh, yes. I'll go grab my stuff," she exclaimed. "Okay," you said in a singsong and slumped down on your sofa, stretching out your legs.

You couldn't help but feel jittery for Wednesday. You let your thoughts wander for a little, wondering what he was like.

The week was passing quickly, and it was finally Wednesday. You were preparing to leave and go to Mr. Turner's place. To say you were a little nervous would be an understatement. Your palms were sweaty, and you weren't sure what you were wearing was appropriate.

You questioned if you looked like you were trying too hard as you opted for baggy brown suit pants and a red shirt with long sleeves.

Ugh. I'm sure he doesn't give a rat's ass about what I'm wearing.

As you put on your big leather jacket and wrapped a black scarf around your neck, the words he spoke echoed in your mind. "Don't forget your novel." As you went back to your room, you made sure to grab your novel and quickly stuffed it into your tote bag as well as your dorm keys. You couldn't help but wonder if any of his clients had ever forgotten theirs.

You decided to take the bus to his office and followed the instructions he texted you.

102 Ave Street. Nr. 32. If you have difficulties finding it, call me.

As you strolled around the neighborhood, you spotted a house with the number 32. You walked past his charming little garden and couldn't help but admire how nicely maintained it was.

Now, standing in front of his door, a mix of excitement and nerves crept over you. Unsure of whether to give a knock or press the doorbell, anticipation filled the air. You decided to knock.

As you took a moment to take in your surroundings, the sound of the door being opened reached your ears. Stepping into the view was a figure of a pale man.

"Uh, hello," you said, extending your hand for him to shake. "Good evening," he said, a slight awkward smile on his face. He glanced down at your hand for a few seconds before finally reaching out to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Turner," you said, maintaining the handshake. "Likewise. Please, come inside and feel at home," he invited you.

"Thank you," you quietly replied as you stepped into his house, though a slight feeling of uncertainty lingered. It almost felt like intruding. "This way to my office," he directed, gesturing towards the left.

"Would you like a drink? Coffee or tea?" he asked. "Uh, tea would be fine. Thanks."

As you walked into his office, you settled into one of the inviting chairs positioned near his desk. Your gaze wandered to the oak wood bookcase that adorned the room, its shelves overflowing with a collection of books. Your eyes were drawn to the carefully placed plants that created a warm and inviting atmosphere. You wondered if anyone else lived in this house, although it seemed empty by the looks of it.

"Here you go," he interrupted your thoughts, setting down a mug with hot tea. "I brought you ginger. I don't know if you like it or not," he said with a serious tone. "Oh, that's my favorite actually," you said, smiling awkwardly.

"Great. Careful, it's hot," he looked at you and gave you a half smile. You blushed a little and brought the mug to your mouth, taking a sip. "So, did you bring your novel?" he said, staring at you.

You tried to speak and swallow at the same time and ended up choking on your drink. You coughed for a few minutes as Alex stared at you, his face laced with concern.

"Erm.." he shifted so he could tap your back. "Try to look up. It should help," he said.

You followed his instructions and looked up at the ceiling, coughing. Your throat seemed to calm down.

"S-sorry," you barely managed to say. "No worries. You alright?"

"Yes," you exhaled and took out the novel, handing it to him, trying to move past the awkward situation. "Thank you," he muttered.

He took your novel and opened it, setting it down on the desk. Your legs were only a few centimeters away from each other. You shifted slightly, not wanting to invade his personal space.

You realized he hadn't asked you to send him your novel and wondered if you had made a mistake. Perhaps you should have asked him about it.

"Um... should I have sent a digital copy of it to you?" you questioned. "No, it's quite alright. I prefer reading it in front of my clients," he said, his gaze not leaving the book.

You felt awkward, to say the least. It wasn’t pleasant having someone read your work right in front of you. Especially when you thought editors usually familiarize themselves with your work beforehand.

You fumbled with your fingers, unsure what to do with yourself. Bringing the hot mug to your lips, you took a few sips. Your eyes wandered around the room and settled on Alex. He looked like he was studying your work, wearing a serious expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed.

He looked handsome. When a few strands of hair fell on his face, he tucked them behind his ear. You felt your cheeks heat up and looked away before he could catch you staring.

As you anxiously awaited his response, doubts clouded your mind about whether any of the sentences you wrote were coherent. You nervously retrieved your phone from your bag, feeling the clamminess on your palms. However, before you could reach out to a friend, he abruptly spoke up.

“S’good,” he looked up at you nodding. “Really? But you didn’t read that much.." you weren't sure what to say.

“I don’t need to. I can see that it’s straightforward and has a clear direction. It’s a bit wordy though and needs some work.” He added.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. He noticed you slumped a little and found it endearing. He had to remind himself of your age and sensitivity.

“But don’t fret. It’s nothing we can’t fix,” he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Right,” you smiled politely. You looked at him for a split-second and then glanced down at your hands.

“Well. I need to read the rest of your novel now. I only wanted to give you a clear picture of what we were gonna do in the upcoming weeks and how this works,” you nodded.

“For now we can meet once every two weeks and then see how your work progresses. Does Wednesday work for you, around this time?” “Uh-yes. I can do that.”

“Perfect. I want to recommend two books for you to read that could help you with your writing. Could you grab “On Writing”, by Stephen King from the bookshelf there?” he pointed to a book with a brown hardcover.

You stood up and spotted the book he was talking about. “This one?” you asked. “Yes. And also the “Bird by Bird” on your left.” You looked around but didn’t see the book he was talking about.

He stood up, approaching you, his chest pressing lightly against your back. His hand reached out just above your head, and a tantalizing scent reached your nose. The subtle blend of cigarette smoke and lavender emerged from his clothing.

“That’s your right,” he said behind you, amused. “Oh, right,” you chuckled awkwardly.

He got back to his desk and handed you the book, your fingers grazing his.

“You don’t need to read these in over a week. This isn’t school,” he chuckled. “But they should help you improve and explore different methods of writing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Turner,” you mumbled. “Oh, feel free to call me Alex,” he said. “Okay. Alex,” you replied.

You felt strange saying his name in such a casual manner. It felt like you were talking to a friend your age, not a 30 something year old accomplished editor and god knows what else.

“Oh uh, how do I pay for this?” “My secretary will contact you for that. The first session was meant for us to get acquainted and make sure that we are a good fit."

“Great,” you said. “Alright.” He looked at you. “Right. Then I’ll be going. Thank you, again. It was nice meeting you,” you mumbled.

“It was nice meeting you too,” he smiled and guided you to the door. You waved goodbye, and exited his house, the cold autumn air surrounding you. Well, now you really have an editor.

Alex didn't expect, well, you. He knew you were younger but god, were you a pretty little thing. His usual clients were a lot older and well, half of them were men.

He tried not to get carried away as his mind swirled with different thoughts about you. He didn't want to be creepy and he never wanted to give you that impression. So he tried his best to be professional.

But you were making it so hard. With your pouty lips and your fumbling hands every time you waited for a response from him. You wore these perfectly fitting tops that hugged your body. Occasionally when you moved around, the fabric would subtly reveal a glimpse of your midriff, making it impossible not to gawk at you. He thought you were simply adorable.

"So, how are your classes going? Anyone giving you trouble?" He asked, genuinely interested. "They're going well," you trailed off, sighing.

"It's one of my professors. I don't think he likes me," you murmured. "Who?" he asked.

"Professor Miller," you slumped a little. "Oh. Well I don't think he likes anyone if that makes you feel any better," you laughed. "No but seriously, what’s the problem?" he asked.

"I have the lowest grade in his class," you said, rolling your eyes, a little embarrassed to admit. "Grades aren't everything (Y/N). I've had my fair share of shitty grades too."

"What if I just suck though?" you asked, finding it unbelievable how comfortable you felt talking to him after knowing him only for a few weeks. "Nah. I would have dropped you by now," he teased you.

You gasped. “I’m only joking. You have a lot of potential,” he said, softly gazing into your eyes.

You smiled, feeling at ease.

"If you want I can help you with your assignments. Give you tips and such. Free of charge," he joked.

Both of you couldn't help but notice that your knees were touching but you felt comfortable staying close.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "Yeah. What else am I gonna do with my time?" he said. "Thanks," you said, feeling like this is beginning to border on inappropriate. But you didn't care.

"How about tomorrow, after your classes, you come by and we can see what we can do."

You nodded. "Okay. Sounds great."

You had entranced him. He knew it was inappropriate. He was your editor, after all. And much older than you. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand the idea of any of these college guys having you. You were too good. Too sweet.

He wanted to be the one who owned you. He often imagined what it would be like to graze your delicate skin with his fingers. Make you shiver under his touch. Or how you mouth would feel around his coc-

"I hate writing!" you exclaimed, getting up from his couch and pacing around. You guys had moved from his office to his living room. He wanted you to feel comfortable.

He listened to you intently as you explained what you meant to convey in your latest pages. He could have easily done this over an email, but no, he had to see you. Your low voice, sweet like honey, reached his ears.

You sighed. "I don't know. I feel like I'm losing sight of my story. I have no idea what to do next." You said, biting your lip.

"Maybe you should leave it be," Alex replied.

"Huh?" you questioned.

"Well you've been working really hard at it lately. When was the last time you did something else you were passionate about?"

"I-," you paused, "I don't know," you mumbled, sitting down next to him again.

"See? You need to forget about it for a while. Create some distance."

You mulled over his words. "Is that what you do?"

"Course. Every artist does."

You looked at him like the world hung on his lips.

"Yeah. I can try that," you said, a worried expression on your face.

"No," he laughed. "Don't take this as another assignment. I mean really forget about it. Do something that doesn't make you think about writing."

You thought about it for a while and asked "Like what?"

He hesitated. "Well." Fuck it, he thought. "I have two tickets to the theater tonight," he raised his eyebrows slightly. "One of my friends canceled on me and you can join me if you want.”

His gaze met yours as you registered what he asked you. He looked at you, biting his lip, worrying if he had been too forward.

"What's the play about?" you asked, caving in. He tried to contain his smile and continued "It's ballet. The last swan lake."

"Oh, I've always wanted to see that," you said. "Great. We can meet in front of the theater at 7:30. That alright?" he asked.

"Yeah. Sounds good," you replied, trying to contain your enthusiasm. "I'll see you later then."

As you were getting ready in your small bathroom, you couldn't help but feel nervous about tonight, butterflies swirling in your stomach. We can meet for a drink beforehand, if you want. My treat. He told you a few hours ago, wearing a shy smile.

You had reluctantly agreed. You wanted to spend time with him so badly but you felt like you were doing something wrong. You hadn’t even told Sophie yet.

You got dressed, slipping on your silky tights past your legs. You decided to wear a delicate black dress with long sleeves that exposed your plush thighs. Pairing it with your leather jacket and your red scarf, you slung your small handbag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave.

You decided to take your earphones with you and listen to music to calm your nerves.

When you arrived at the charming bar he had picked, you flung the door open and entered. lThe cozy ambience enveloped you as you stepped inside, a welcoming contrast to the crisp evening air outside.

Alex, already seated at a secluded corner table, looked up from his menu, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he caught sight of you entering.

As you made your way towards him, the gentle flicker of candlelight played on the edges of his features. "You made it," he said, rising from his seat and pulling your chair out for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your cheeks rosy from the cold. You sat down, not knowing what to do with your hands or where to look. This felt strangely intimate.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked you.

“Uh. What are you getting?” you replied.

“Probably a beer.” He said.

“I guess I’ll get a glass of white wine then,” you replied, feeling somewhat awkward. You didn’t expect in a million years to have drinks with your editor.

“You sure? You can get anything you want. Like I said, it’s my treat.” He smiled.

“Thank you. Yeah I’m good,” you replied bashfully.

After the waiter brought your drinks you started delving into conversation.

"So, um, tell me more about yourself," Alex prompted, his gaze lingering on you.

You giggled, sipping your drink. "Well, there's not much to tell. Just a struggling student trying to make it out alive."

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "From what I've seen, there's more than meets the eye."

You met his gaze, and the air shifted, charged with an unspoken tension. "You know, I never expected my editor to be someone who could make me forget about writer's block."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Maybe I'm just that good at my job."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between discussions of literature, shared interests, and personal anecdotes. As the night progressed, the topics ventured into more intimate territories, the subtle dance of words revealing layers beneath the surface.

"You have this way of making the mundane sound interesting," you remarked, now both on your second drink. You could feel your face heat up from the alcohol.

Alex leaned in, his gaze intense yet inviting. "Maybe it's the company that makes it interesting."

The words lingered in the air, a palpable tension settling between you. Unspoken desires sparked beneath the surface.

"Well, I find the company interesting too," you replied.

A hint of a smirk crossed Alex's face as he took a sip of his drink. "Careful now," he said. "Interesting company can be quite... distracting."

A subtle blush crept onto your cheeks. "Distracting can be a good thing." you replied.

"What are you distracting yourself from?" he asked, his gaze lingering on yours.

“I’m not sure. Everyone has problems, I guess,” you looked down at your hands.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t want to bore you,” you chuckled.

“You could never,” he replied, his tender eyes meeting yours. You stared at each other for a few seconds before you cleared your throat and looked at the time. “Oh, I think we should get going,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Alex said and he gestured to the waiter for the bill. You thanked him for the drinks and promised you would return the favor next time you saw him. He agreed but knew he wouldn’t let you pay for anything, especially since you were just a student.

You had an amazing time seeing "Black Swan" at the theater. The ballet was captivating, and the music was incredible. You also noticed Alex glancing at you a few times throughout the show.

After the show, Alex walked you to your cab. Under the streetlights, there was a quiet moment filled with something more than words. You exchanged a look that said it all, a shared understanding between you. As you got into the cab, Alex stood on the sidewalk with a thoughtful smile and waved goodbye.

When you arrived at your dorm, your phone vibrated.

Did you get home safely? - Mr Turner.

Your heart fluttered.

Yes.

Great. Good night.

Night.

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you huddled into your bed and drifted off to sleep, embracing your pillow. The night ushered you into a world of dreams.

#next chapter will be angsty and smutty smut smut i got yall #arctic monkeys #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fic #tbhc #tbhc alex turner #alex turner x y/n #idk if there r any mistakes but fuq it i guess ive been looking at it for so long

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the-ghostly-butterfly · 8 months

Text

Snippet 1.4

The next morning, Henchman sat in the infirmary of Villain's Headquarters, the atmosphere as thick as smoke. Henchman figured Villain let slip to someone what they were planning to do the Henchman as a punishment for what they'd done, or maybe even details of how they'd be tortured or killed, or maybe even thrown out for the heroes to round up like a stray dog, most likely with their tongue cut out and hands broken so they didn't stand a chance at revealing anything they'd learned about Villain

They didn't really know anything useful for the heroes anyway. They knew Villain's favorite color (dark blue), favorite foods (anything with chocolate), allergies (blueberries), their least favorite movie genre (horror) and a couple other things they picked up from being around Villain so much.

They learned why Villain didn't get on well with their parents (they very much had a favorite child and it wasn't Villain) and what'd brought on their anger towards the Hero Agency once Villain brought them into their confidence, sure, but they didn't know much more about plans then the average civilian--that would be Right Hand. Their actual duties consisted of watching over supplies, managing other henchmen and keeping an eye on the overall workings of Headquarters.

Henchman hoped that taking down Hero would make Villain proud of them. Would make them allow Henchman into their inner circle and bring them into their confidence. They'd hoped to get as close to Villain as Right Hand--closer, after bringing down Hero. And instead, they'd suffered two humiliating defeats (and several broken ribs).

It all came to a head when Medic came in to check on Henchman's stitches. in addition to the blunt force trauma of being thrown through a window and into a wall, glass shards stuck into their back and left jagged, stinging wounds that oozed blood well into the night. Henchman sat on their cot, facing away from Medic as their wounds were inspected and re-dressed, and even then they could feel the hesitation Medic's hands, which were usually sure and quick.

Silence hung in the room like a dead man.

"What are they gonna do?" Henchman asked in a croaky voice, just barely above a whisper.

Medic paused. Considered. "What?"

"Villain. What are they gonna do to me?"

Again, they were met with silence. Henchman was sure the stress was worse than any answer Medic could've given until... Medic laughed. They laughed. It wasn't a snort or a scoff, or even a giggle--and they didn't even try to hide it! Medic stepped back for a moment, cackling as Henchman's stomach dropped. Of all the answers they were expecting, that was one they hadn't prepared for in the slightest.

"Oh, God, I needed that. You're hysterical."

"I'm being serious!" Henchman whirled around half way before the agony from the mess that somehow made up their abdomen sent lightning-hot reminders of why that was a horrible idea.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself," Medic scolded lightly, laughter still dancing in their eyes. "Have you really been stressed about that the whole time?"

"YES!" Henchman was near screaming now, though they weren't sure if it was ager or confusion that raised their voice. "Why wouldn't I be? Did you see how furious Villain was before they left? And I haven't seen them since. I left without permission and acted without orders; they have every reason to be upset. And everyone and everything's been so quiet today, it's like I've been handed down a death sentence."

Medic cleared their throat and the last embers of amusement flickered out. "Yeah, well, you're right about that, but you're not the one in danger. Or at least, you weren't when it mattered."

The tone of Medic's voice was dead serious--terrifying--and didn't help the growing pit of anxiety that had hunkered down in Henchman's stomach. They felt like they were going to pass out, woozy and dizzy and like the world was tipping out from under them.

A sharp snap under their nose anchored them a little more steadily to the bed they were sitting on, Medic having circled around the cot to look Henchman in the eyes. "You're fine, relax. The rest of us weren't supposed to tell you because it was bad, even for Villain, but I don't think you're in for anything more than a slap on the wrist, and neither does anyone else."

And they wouldn't understand that even if Henchman wasn't going to be killed, as thankful for that as they were, even a slap on the wrist as Medic said would destroy everything Henchman had been working towards. Everything they'd been hoping for. They should've known going into the fight that they were putting Villain's trust in them on the line, and they had--to a point.

They never expected they would fail as horribly as they did, nor that Villain would react with the kind of quiet fury usually reserved for their rare interactions with heroes or other members of the Agency itself. They hadn't expected to be sent to the infirmary the way that they were, or to be teleported directly to it from an alley just off the main scene of the fight after barely getting away.

And what they really weren't expecting was what hurt most: The fact that Villain had put them here and walked off without another word. They'd spoken in their office, but beyond that, there wasn't even a threatening note, or a warning given through Medic. They'd been effectively put in time out, knowing what might be coming but not having enough confidence to really prepare themselves one way or another.

“Hey, what did I just say?” Medic says, this time with annoyance in their tone. “Even if I don’t know the details, I know you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine, and I don’t think you’re clocking Villain’s feelings towards what you did to Hero as correctly as you think you are, yeah?”

Their assessment was fair, if not a little stinging. They’d never been good at reading people, but they’d hoped Villain was the exception. Even with their monotone voice and often stony demeanor, Henchman knew how tired they were in a glance after a fight; knew when to call for Medic or coffee or let them get straight to their personal rooms and block everyone else from entering–something Right Hand was usually supposed to do.

The entire night, they’d tried not to deliberate too much on Right Hand. They’d tried to ignore the stinging jealousy of the fact that there was already someone that was so close to Villain they could almost read their thoughts. They knew Villain kept a certian amount of professionalism and distance between themselves and Right Hand that didn’t seem to be present between Villain and Henchman, but most liekly because it wasn’t seen as necessary. They weren’t close enough for it to matter in the first place.

“Okay,” Henchman murmured, and one look at Meidc’s face made it clear to even them that they didn’t beleive them for a second. Nevertheless, Medic stepped away.

“Okay,” they echoed, with much more confidence. “You seem to be healing well, all things considered, and I have other patients I need to take care of, so I’m going to leave you here, okay? Try not to freak out too much on me, yeah?”

Henchman gave a weak nod, and an even weaker smile. They were sure that Medic could see them spiraling form the outside, but if they did, they didn’t say anything about it. “Yeah.”

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

#heroes and villains #short story #snippet #villains and heroes #villain #writing snippet #henchman #villain x henchman #supervillian #TW injury #Henchman got their ass beat (again)#This one got a little out of hand #hope it was worth the wait #Will hopefully be posting soon but the last time I said that it was kinda a lie so I won't make any promises #Meant to post this yesterday but my internet was down for some reason #choose your own adventure #SPOILER: hero got their ass beat too

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sweetracha · 1 year

Text

Dollhouse Chapter 2:

It's A Barbie World

Product Details: Psychological Horror, Angst, & Smut (consensual)

Choking Hazard: Kidnapping, Being held against your will, Mental manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, delusional fantasies, Physical harm, abuse, and Minho being the villain.

This story is in collaboration with @goblinracha

Golden light leaked through the slight crack in the rose-colored curtains. You began to appreciate how the room took on a subtle peach tone during sunrise. Han was usually fast asleep in his bed around this time. After learning about what the poor soul has endured, the least you could do was let him sleep. Your eyes followed the grain of the pink carpet until it harshly turned blue, a lovely teal this time of the morning. They kept on their path until you set on the body in the blue starry bed. The pajamas he wore were the silk baby blue ones with white buttons and pants to match. You smiled knowing he slept in comfort, he told you how the cold material soothed his lingering bruises.

He gifted you with this information after your first official play session. You were terrified as Minho entered the room and announced it was time to play. Playing? All you knew about play was what Han told you during your meetings in the haven of the pantry.

“Y/n, please listen to me” Han pushed you off as you tried to kiss him again. You weren’t sure if it was comfort or lust but his hold made you feel some semblance of sanity.

“Han, please, We both know we don’t have much time! He can be back from the store any minute now. Please don’t push me out Han” You weren't sure why you were about to cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure of anything anymore. You just knew you needed him.

“Y/n, just listen” Han held your face to look at him, soft, unlike Minho’s harsh grip. “You need to follow Minho’s rules tomorrow”

“I always do! You know I–”

“No tomorrow is different. We are going to play. Minho loves playtime more than anything in the world, it's why he created us in the first place! But it means he is the most hostile in these moments. One slip up and well…” Han began to choke up. “Please Y/n, I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.”

“Shhhh Han it’s okay. I’ll listen to him, I'll do it for you. Okay, oh please don’t cry, please.” It was your turn to dry his tears. It was terrifying how volatile your emotions are.

“Promise me y/n”

“I promise, Hannie. I Promise.”

The following day you woke up to a weight on your bed. The soft smile of a sweet lover slowly melted off your face when you saw it was Minho. He never woke you up like this, no he always woke Han up first. The schedule always went; Minho woke up his Ken, then as a good boyfriend does Ken wakes up Barbie, Minho is always still present in the room, calling the shots like a little kid playing with their dollies. From there he gets you ready for the day which consists of simple housewife activities like cooking, cleaning, and caring for ‘Ken’. You didn’t like how this morning felt.

“Good morning Barbie, are you going to say good morning to Mommy?” the sickly sweet slime that dripped from his venomous tongue was not going to fool you. He was sugar in your morning tea, but you knew the dangers that he hides at the bottom of his cup.

“Good morning Mommy” The roll of your eyes didn’t go unnoticed by him. All of a sudden nails dug into the soft skin of your cheeks. Cat claws debated on drawing blood.

“Behave Barbie” Cold stone eyes bour deep into yours. “Mommy is not afraid to give you your first punishment Barbie. You’ve been here long enough to know I demand to have a good girl.”

“Yes Mommy” you bowed your head in submission. You promised Han.

“Good girl! That’s mommy’s pretty little Barbie doll. Now go wait in the bathroom, I need to wake up Ken.” He patted your face. The final blow was sharper than the first two, a warning left biting your skin.

You sat in the stylist chair staring into the mirror. Blank is the only way to describe it, you were blank. Your emotions were diluted with water and your face was not your own. Did you always smile that way or did Minho condition that part too? When did you last smile?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Minho entering the room with Han in tow. The former’s hair stuck up at an odd angle, the look of sorrow told you he was probably yanked out of bed. If that didn’t give it away, the way Han was shoved forcefully into the blue parlor chair next to you did. Through the side of your eye and the upturn on your lip, you offered comfort.

“Alright Barbie and Ken” There was always a jingle in his voice when he spoke to you two in the ‘beauty salon’. The bells in his song made it clear this was his favorite activity with you two. “Mommy has an extra special day planned! Today is your first playtime Barbie! Are you excited?” Minho picked up the comb and walked over to you first.

You gave a stiff nod and a plastic expression to his statement. Warning alarms rang through you as you tried to make the right choices today. Obviously, that was the wrong one as the comb harshly pulled your hair back.

“Oops, You had a bit of a knot in your hair Barbie. Mommy asked you a question, doll.”

“Yes Mommy, I am excited about playtime” Your reply seemed to please Minho enough that he softened his technique.

What was playtime anyways? Han didn’t have time to give you enough detail but the way he acted terrified you. Was it sexual? You feel like all this had to be sexual in some way but why wait 6 months? If you were going to kidnap someone for sex this was a long drawn-out plan. But Minho was used to waiting. He played you like an instrument for many months before it got to where you are now.

He seemed to care so much though. Whenever you were Barbie he treated you like a princess. Sometimes he could get out of line sure but he had never hurt you badly. Maybe you were acting out of line? Perhaps you should be grateful for all of this. Minho was standing right in front of your, holding you as if you were going to break, applying your makeup. He even carefully reminded you not to move when he was curling your hair. He said he didn’t want to hurt his Barbie. Sometimes he just had to.

Your eyes followed Minho’s path out of your mirror and into Ken’s. He gave Ken the same kind of treatment he gave you, even kissing the spot he tugged on earlier. Maybe Ken did deserve some minor punishment. Did he not see Mommy was just trying to keep you both safe and cared for? Ken seemed to appreciate it though, then why did he say he didn’t when you two were in the pantry? In the pantry, Ken seemed so sure Mommy was a bad person but that can’t be true! Mommy loved you and Ken. He was wrong, Han was wrong.

Wait, Han was wrong? What are you thinking? Han is not Ken, Ken is not Han. You are not Barbie! Whatever mind games Minho was playing won’t work anymore. Han, Han, Han, you just had to keep that name in your head like a motto. Ken is not real, Mommy is not real, and sure as hell Barbie is not real. Han is real, he is safe. You will never let yourself forget that.

As Minho finished dressing Han up, you got a look at yourself in the mirror. You recognized this outfit anywhere. The one-piece strapless bathing suit was iconic down to its black and white stripes. Even your hair was done to match the classic Beach Barbie doll. Anyone would look at you and think you were a full-time Barbie impersonator. You guess in some ways you are.

Minho ushered you both out of your seats and into the hallways. Instead of taking a left into the main body of the house, however, you take a right. In front of you was a locked room you never dared to try before. Whatever twisted thoughts that were in Minho’s head, lived behind that lock. Of course, Minho had the key.

When he opened it, Han was the first to rush in. Like a kid in a candy store, you had never seen him more excited. Minho offered you a sweet smile as his hand on your lower's back pushed you through. To say you were confused was an understatement. There was sand covering the whole floor. Where the sand met the wall, a fake ocean and sunset sky were painted.

Hand-painted, some of the clouds still seemed wet. There were two beach towels and umbrellas set up in the corner, a tiki bar along the wall, and a section of actual water in a little pink pool. So this was playtime.

Minho took his position on a little black stool in the corner of the room. He gave Han a simple nod and Ken seemed to know what to do. He laid down on the beach towel and looked out over the ‘sunset’. Minho softly spoke to you.

“Barbie, Mommy is going to start playing now. All you have to do is follow Ken’s lead. If Mommy wants to change something, he will speak up. Be a good girl and play nice for Mommy” That last bit was laced with toxic intentions.

You lay down next to Han on the pink beach towel. He took your hand softly and looked deep into your eyes. Han was telling you this was going to be alright, that he was right there. So boldly in front of Minho too. You wanted to embrace him for this kind gesture. He was safe.

“Barbie thank you for spending this day with me. I know I should be watching the sunset but you are too beautiful.”

WAIT WHAT? He was just preparing the scene? He really wasn’t there was he? Han was gone, Minho was gone, and you were all alone with Ken and Mommy

“BARBIE!” you heard a snarling shout from the corner of the room. “Play.” was all his frigid voice said

You looked at Ken, you could do this. You had to do this, for Han.

“Oh Ken” you wanted to vomit on your inflection. “It really was um a fun day and all. I had so much fun ummm on the beach” What were you even meant to say?

“You aren’t a broken doll, yet. Try harder Barbie” Minho quipped before Ken’s next line.

“Oh, Barbie! I’m so glad you had fun riding the waves and taking in the sun! A day at the beach isn’t complete without you Barbie” When did his sweet, almost British accent get replaced by a surfer?

“Ken, thank you. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” what were you doing?

“Really Barbie! That would be like totally rad!”

“Ken and Barbie go swimming” Minho interjected like a director for a low-budget high school play.

“Barbie, you know what's like totally romantic? Swimming during sunset. Let's go take a dip” Ken was able to flip the script like a professional, it scared you honestly.

You didn’t want to go swimming. You didn’t want to play along anymore. It was time for you to go home, actually home. In your real bed, with your real food, and your real closet. You and Han could visit a real beach and swim in the real ocean. You were over it.

Ken lifted you up bridal style and walked you over to the kiddie pool. He slowly began to lower you in but you stopped him.

“NO I’M OVER THIS SHIT MINHO” you yelled so loud you closed your eyes to project it. However, that meant you missed Minho’s boiling red skin.

“What did you just say, you little BRAT” Minho screamed and threw his chair against the wall. He stalked up to you like you were prey.

“I SAID NO MORE! MINHO YOU HAVE FUCKING LOST IT. LET HAN AND I GO! HE WANTS TO LEAVE YOU TOO” Now Minho was face to face with you, the heat that radiated off of him was hot enough to burn.

“Han do you want to leave,” Minho asked like ice once more but his eyes never left yours.

“Mommy, who are you talking to?” Han asked with that sickly sweet sugary tone he greeted you with on day one.

“Exactly, Ken put her in the pool”

“But she said—”

“Ken I will get my boots out if she isn’t in the pool in the next three seconds”

Han so much as dropped you in, your tailbone meeting the floor through the thin plastic. Minho kneed down and took your hair into a fist. He forced you to look at him.

“Should have been a good girl”

Before you knew it your face was being shoved under the water. You fought back as much as possible but Minho’s force kept you under. Your legs kicked violently but were soon held down by who you assumed was Ken. Water quickly filled your lungs as your eyes stung. It felt like razor blades were cutting you up from the inside. The pink bottom was starting to dim and you couldn’t fight it any longer. Your eyes fell shut and your body went limp. Minho had won.

A violent light overtook your vision and overwhelmed all your senses. You could hear everything around you from the wood floors settling to worried shallow breaths. Then you could feel anything touching you. Fuzz, silk, plush, and cold. Your smell is what came next. Immediately you cringed at the smell of mildew setting into drying cotton. However, the smell of clean linens and ginger came to you. Han was nearby. You wanted to vomit on the taste of plastic and blood on your tongue. Sight finally came to you..

You never thought you would appreciate seeing pink and blue, as far as you were aware those colors were dead to you. Then the realization hit you. Pink hearts, pink pillows, pink sheets, and pink carpet. You were in bed, you survived. You survived! You were alive!

Shooting up in bed with a jolt of excitement about your second chance at life. You instantly found the blue sea across from you with a body laying in the middle of it. Hannie was safe, you could finally let out that final breath of worried air. As long as you two were together, you were safe.

The next few months went by in flashes from your memory. You decided it was best to lay low and obey after a session with Han in the pantry. He cried his eyes out to you, more than he had talking about his own past. He urged you to be careful and to just follow Minho’s instructions. He said he had a plan but it was going to take time. The two of you just had to wait, much like Mommy taught you.

Every week Minho put on a different grand opening of a new playset and like a good little dolly you played along. You sat like the princess in your styling chair and walked the makeshift runway once he got you all dressed. Multiple times as he praised you and loved on you, he would repeat Barbie like a mantra. Barbie and Ken, Barbie and Ken, Barbie and Ken, and over and over and over again. Each time followed by a stupid little jingle. It was the warning bells in your head again, it had to be, Han never reacted. Instead, he would slip into his Ken headspace and forget everything. Slowly you began to feel the warm fuzz of Barbie creep into your mind, each playtime she called to you. It was getting stronger but you were adamant you wouldn't let her take you.

There were only a few playtimes that stood out in your memory, for better or for worse. The first of which Minho described as ‘Fashion Editor Barbie”. She came the second week of playtime and you were determined to do everything right. You laughed at the idea of fashion when Minho dressed you in a pink pantsuit up to the shoulder pads. Your ascot felt like it was choking you and you were pretty sure your face was going to meet the ground in those pin heels. That didn’t matter though, you walked around that room like you were the C.E.O., talking on your comically oversized cellphone. Minho seemed happy after this day, he even let you pick out something new to buy at the store. The silk pillows felt nice as you sobbed into them nightly.

The second one of note was a few weeks later, this is when you started to notice a shift in Minho. He got you dressed up in an all-white gown and fake fur coat to match. You were given a glam makeover which included a pair of black cat-eyed sunglasses you liked. Tonight was a movie premiere. All you had to do was walk the red carpet with Ken as Mommy snapped photos of you two. A few questions would be thrown in here or there, but overall it was an easy night. Until Minho asked Ken to step away.

“Barbie is the star, Ken! Get out of her shot!” Minho claimed. “It’s a Barbie World, Not a Ken World”

You could tell by the look on Ken’s face that he despised this. It had been bubbling up for some time. Mommy’s favorite toy was discarded for something newer, shinner, and moldable. Minho was bored of Ken and Ken knew it. Ken hated Barbie for it.

It took many days in the pantry for Han to ease your nerves about Ken. ‘He is all bark no bite’ he would try to tell you. Han slowly kissed every inch of your face to prove to you that he and Ken are not the same. A word sat at the end of his lips but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. That was okay, it was understood loud and clear by you.

However, it seemed to be heard by Minho too. From the way, Han looked at you in the mornings to how his body gravitated in your direction once Ken washed away. Minho did not like the way this all looked. For the first time in a long time, he panicked. He needed a plan.

His plan? Ken visits Doctor Barbie. Originally Minho had planned for Barbie to use plastic children’s tools instead of real ones but where is the fun in that? Barbie was not meant to be a plaything to him, no she was meant to be real. As Ken laid on your hospital bed you slightly cried over him. You saw fear, disgust, animosity, but most of all, absolute unfiltered terror. You wanted to stop, to scream out at Minho, to take whatever punishment Mommy would give you, but you couldn’t. Barbie held your mind close and shushed you. It would have been so easy to let her take control, to never have to remember this day once she leaves. But Ken’s face still had Han’s eyes. You made the cuts as small as possible. You’d kiss the scars tomorrow.

Every day since then you had been making up to Han. Little things to show you cared like fluffing up his pillows and remembering to take off your heels during your little getaways. He always said he doesn’t remember the pain but you could see the welting scars. When you laid your lips on his shoulder, he placed his on your head. His arms wrapped around you for security, but yours wrapped around him for understanding.

Today marked 8 months since you entered pink and blue hell. The energy in the air was different, uncertain. Minho dressed you and Han differently today saying that for this playtime, he wanted things to be private. When Minho walked in with a pink babydoll gown, matching stockings, a guarder belt, and lace panties; you felt like fainting. However, Minho caught you.

“Y/n look. You have been good recently and I want to thank you. I thought some adult pleasure may bring your spirits up. While it is still playtime, I think you deserve to be here, fully here. I’m not a monster, I still believe in consent. Something tells me that you might want this. Not with me but with Han.” His eyes sparkled the same way they did that first meeting at the tea shop. His warm hand on your back reminded you of the way he held you during the rain. You wanted to be inside his mind so bad back then. You’ll never make that mistake again.

“I want Han, not you” You didn’t trust him even if there was a pinch of love for him still in you.

“I know, I respect that. All I demand is that I get to sit back and watch. I won’t lay a hand on you” Were you about to believe the sugar that lay at the bottom of his cup?

“Okay, I accept” You opened your stature up to invite him in. Trust went two ways after all.

When you both entered the playroom you saw it had been changed into a lover’s paradise. A large bed laid in the middle of the room with a mirror built into the overhead. The blankets were plush white with pillows that matched. Silk sheets, just how you and Han liked them, stretched the bed. A simple unassuming white chair sat in the corner. A confused Han stood in the middle.

“Han?” You questioned in a whisper, still afraid of Minho’s tricks.

“Y/n” Han repeated back. You were both there.

“You two play nice with each other, Mommy will be over here in his chair. House rules still stand. Be good like this more often and I might be able to make this a routine.” Minho sat down in his post for the night.

The start was slow and awkward, to say the least. Both of you were still in disbelief that Minho would actually let you play like this. He just sat there watching as you felt each other up. After about 20 minutes the coast seemed clear, and Han took the initiative. His hand that was on your hip slid under the lining of your baby doll. He made his way up cautiously to your chest. FIngertips left goosebumps in their wake.

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight. He may be crazed but he does understand attention to detail” You both slightly giggled at the joke but once Han caught your nipple your giggle turned breathy.

“So sweet doll, Speak up so Mommy can hear you two” Minho chimed in. The least you could do was make it enjoyable for him too, right?

“Han, Please” you whined out as he pinched your hardening bud.

“Yes, y/n? What do you want sweetheart?” He twisted it just the way you liked. Your back arched off the bed. Minho took note of that.

“More, please! Anything!” Han didn’t say anything after that, he just dropped his lips to your neck while moving his hand towards your panties.

“No bruising!” Minho piped up again, Han’s sucking stopped immediately.

While his hand toyed with the edge of your panties, your hand cupped his gray-blue boxers. You massages his clothed cock in your hand and added just a bit of pressure to his balls, just like you knew he liked. When he doubled over in pleasure and tore your panties off, Minho took note.

Before you knew it Han was knuckles deep inside you while sucking on your clit like a man starved. He was determined to make this moment last because he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get it again. When your thighs clamped around his head he thought for a moment about letting you suffocate him, but then you'd be all alone. Han gripped the flesh on your thigh and forced you open while adding another finger. The whole combination of events had you crying out his name as you finished for him. Minho took note.

Before Han could enter you, you flipped the script, literally. Han was now flat on his back as you lowered kisses down his abdomen. When you got to his neatly trimmed happy trail you looked up and gave him a wink. Next thing he knew you were kissing the head of his cock. He bucked up and whined for more but you knew he liked to be teased. Instead, you took just the tip in his mouth and rubbed the rest of the shaft slowly. He arched off the bed and shut his eyes, huffing in desperation. Minho took note.

Once he was on the verge of cumming down your throat, you pulled off. Han could only complain for a little while until you sunk down on his angry red cock. You both moaned out in unison at the extreme pleasure of it all. Penetration like this was rare for you and it had been too long. Han almost came right there. Minho took note.

You rode Han as long as you could, leaving faint little scratches down his torso. Minho didn’t seem to care about Han getting damaged as much as he did for you. It didn’t matter though as both of you were lost in ecstasy. You brought your whole body up until just the tip was nestled inside then you dropped your whole weight down, forcefully fucking yourself on Han’s cock. When he pistoned upwards on the next retreat, you were pleasantly caught off guard. Han took this time to flip your back over. He rammed into you with no real set pattern or pace. Usually, this would turn you off but you were both so sensitive from lack of stimulation, you’d take anything. He grabbed both of your legs and propped them up on his shoulders so he could hit even deeper in you. Once he found what he was looking for, you screamed out in pleasure.

“Fuck y/n, please cum for me. Please! I can’t last much longer, I need you to cum with me” Han all but begged for you. You didn’t need to be told twice as you came so hard you thought you may pass out. Both of you just laid in the bed after, sweaty, disgusting, cum covered messes trying to catch your breath.

“I love you” Han whispered as quietly as humanly possible.

“I love you two” you ghosted back.

Minho got up without a word and left the room, seemingly unaware or unbothered by his boner. Minho took note of that.

@smally97 @lixiesweetbrownie @seo--changbin @lyramundana @j-onedrabbles @hyuniebeez @jisunglyricist @chvngi @hanjisunginc @whatudowhennooneseesyou @felixsramen @koala-wonderland @lookitsjess @camixiez @dutchessskarma @stvrfir3 @mixtape-racha @kaciidubs

Listening to Han’s heartbeat quelled the ache in your own. You were awake another night thinking about Minho. How could you have been so wrong? Maybe he was under the same spell Han was in. Maybe Minho was not Mommy and Mommy was not Minho. Yet Minho seemed to know who Mommy was, and vice versa. But the more you thought about it, you knew about Barbie and she knew about you. So why was Han so different? It was like he couldn’t hear the stupid chime every time your identities were named. He blanked out the world and its noises. You had so many questions and no answers. As you began to fade back into dreamland with Han’s arm securely tucked around you, a faint buzz sounded under your pillow.

Incoming message from

<Mommy>:

<click to read message>.

#{dollhouse au 🏩}#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #minsung #han jisung #lee know #minho

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hanasnx · 8 months

Note

hi i asked abt zena and ani. I js wanted to say that their dynamic is my favorite thing in the world. how he’s so nonchalant abt everything and mysterious and her just wanting to crack him. im in love.

also. “ever shot a porno?” god kill me now. i need more of their banter. just the way they speak to each other is so 🫠

i’d love to see a more personal (wink wink) interview between them both.

thank you indy for blessing this earth with zenakin.

(also could i be 🪐)

this is so crazy cool to me tbh bcos i didnt write them together originally to have crazy sexual tension i just feel like i cant not imbue sexual tension into my writing. i love that you asked me about them and youve picked up on their dynamics. the prompt is a little too vague so i hope im doing it justice. also yes ofc you can be that emoji <3

"Bet you thought you saw the last of me." ZENA DAREN remarks smartly, a haughty curl to her lips at the sight of ANAKIN SKYWALKER sitting before her once again. He takes a sip from his water bottle, and she finds herself staring at the way his Adam's apple bobs from the movement. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and drops the bottle next to his chair leg.

"You are persistent, I'll give you that." he relents, and nods in subtle commendation. "Didn't even realize I had an agent until you relentlessly overwhelmed her with every trick in the book. Can't say I'm not impressed." Zena can't tell if this was another one of his signature dry jokes. Krayt House couldn't be so popular now that he wouldn't notice an entire person signing on to be his personal agent to coordinate events behind the scenes? How many papers has this guy signed to have not kept track of something like that? No, must be a joke. It's still taking considerable effort for her to nail this guy down. Like a Rubik's cube, she can't put it down until it's a clear solve.

Her pen points over the precipice of her clipboard. "You told her you weren't taking interviews anymore." The accusatory tone of voice utilized causes Anakin to raise his brows in mock offense.

"The series is over. Why should I?" he debates, sinking further back into his seat that unconsciously pushes out his hips. Those black pants hug him well, and Zena swallows. Additionally, he crosses his arms over his broad chest, swelling the muscle in a most please way. Cords of tendons lovingly tended to in the gym are on full display. At this point, she knows he's attractive— he has been all this time— but what would she expect from a professional porn star with his kind of experience under his belt? It won't go anywhere if she pursued it, but she's far more fascinated in him as a puzzle to solve.

"You neglected to mention to her that I would be an exception." She shrugs, as if it should be obvious, leaning her back against the chair as a snooty expression adorns her countenance.

He scoffs. "You think after a couple of links that you're an exception?"

"Out of the roster I'd say I'm the most consistent contestant. You agree to be on my show thirty-seven percent more than others on average."

Anakin tilts his head forward to peer at her through his brows curiously, "Oh, so you're keeping tabs on me, huh?" There he goes again, being that charming smooth-talker that can tongue-tie her in seconds. It's frustrating.

Warm color blooms on Zena's cheeks, and she rallies. The stumble is noted by her counter-part, who scans her vulnerable figure in her usual professional attire. Her legs crossed neatly over one another in a pencil skirt and heels is practically smoothed over as if his piercing blue gaze was a large hand. "That's not—"

"I get it." He pinches his shoulder to his neck with a sniff of his nose, swiping at it with his thumb as he glances to the side. "We both know you've got a little thing for me. Look, I was just showing up to do my job. It's not my fault you got the rights to me during the run of the series."

Without thinking, Zena blurts out, "Are you always so self-centered?"

The corner of his lips quirk up. "Only when it helps me get a read on my opponent." Once more, Zena is rendered speechless. She's been trying to decipher this guy since day one and all she's managed to do is grant him insider access to her own mind. Anakin takes advantage of her reticence, gesturing to her camera with an incline of his head and his curls bounce from the motion. "Forgot to turn on the camera." he points out to her. Her gaping mouth cannot be occupied by a single word, and he takes it one step further. "I like your glasses. New pair?"

#ch: zenakin #indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#anon: 🪐#indy: drabbles #anakin x zena #zenakin drabble #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker x oc #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin x oc #anakin imagine #anakin fic #anakin fanfiction #ch: adultfilm!anakin

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obsidiancreates · 2 years

Text

The Algae Is Always Greener On The Other Side (Part 3)

(I try to do age math in the opening. Don't @ me if it's all wrong all that matters is I think by the end of Season 4 the 2012 crew are freshly 19. On AO3 this is split into 2 chapters so if it's too long for you here you can check over there, same title same username)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wait, weren't the episodes we were watching of you also called 'Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?'" Angelo wonders, tapping his chin as he stares at the screen.

"Maybe ours inspired yours," Raph says, slightly proud of the concept. "We're older, aren't we?"

"... Are we?" Mikey asks.

They all go quiet.

"... So we're in 2022 in our world," Donald says. "Nardo and I are sixteen, Raph is eighteen, and Angelo is fifteen."

"You're all different ages? Whoa, trippy..." Mikey looks at them with wide eyes.

"They're also years into the future!" Donnie checks his T-Phone. "Let me see, we- yeah, we're in 2015! You're about seven years ahead of us!"

"So you are older," Leon says slowly.

"I- well, yes, but- for us, we turned 15 in 2012-"

"Wait, so your Mikey wasn't just saying that? You're all quadruplets?" Raphie looks at Raph. "So then who's the-the big brother?"

"Leo," three of the duller colored clan turtles chime in unison.

"Generally we agree, i-in terms of hierarchy if not actual ages, that Leo is oldest, Raph is second oldest, I'm third, and Mikey is youngest." Donnie points to each brother as he goes down the list. "But we're all 17 now, I think maybe closer to 18. I uh, stopped keeping track of our Mutation Days once we started dealing with aliens and crime bosses on the daily."

"You are all nearly 18," Splinter confirms. "I know we have not celebrated in a few years now, but I am still keeping track."

"So... where does that leave us?" April O'Neil asks, looking around. "You guys'd be 25 in our time, but you haven't even left the 2010's yet! I mean, I was like, 11 in 2015!"

"This is hurting my brains, dudes!" Mikey groans, slumped against the couch. "Let's just start the show alreadyyyyyyyyyy!"

There's a general murmur of agreement, and the show begins.

On screen, it opens with a shot of a manhole cover, a song beginning right away.

Rise of theeee- Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

"WHOA!" Mikey scrambles closer to the screen. "DUDES, IS THAT YOUR SHELLRAIZER?!"

"Turtle Tank," Donald corrects, pride practically pouring out of him. "And it has multiple smaller vehicles inside of it."

"I wanna ride in it so bad," Mikey says in a sort of joyful whimper of longing.

"Uh, do those guys have fire on their heads?" Leo points out.

"Oh, yeah. They just do that, don't worry about it," Leon waves off.

Heroes in a half-shell, turtle power!

"Interesting," Donnie says quietly. "I wonder why that lyric is consistent across our shows?"

Rising up against evil, paint the city green! Raph is ready for a fight, Leo's making a scene!

Leo snorts. "Well, if that doesn't lay out our differences perfectly, I don't know what will."

"I don't know, Leo," Raph says. "You sure love making a scene of going solo."

"Yours does it too?" Raphie looks both relieved and horrified.

"Oh yeah. Sometimes Fearless Leader here is more Fearless than Leader."

"Hey!"

Mikey's got mad skills, Donnie rocks machines!

"See? I told y'all I got the squills!" Angelo rocks happily in his spot.

With each other they discover their destiny and rise!

"Destiny?" Leo looks at them. "You guys have a destiny?"

"Had. We kinda handled it already, twice!" Raphie punches his fists together.

"I think we're kinda destined for stuff too, dudes," Mikey says. "Just like, I don't think our destiny is totally sure what it's for, either."

"A wise observation, Michelangelo," Splinter praises. "It could very well be you are destined simply to protect, whatever that may mean."

"Hey, not to cut the philosophy lesson off," Raph says, "But I see a hippo in a suit and a worm with hair in that ball of villains."

"And a... pig in a cook's hat?" April looks over at April O'Neil.

"Oh, you'll see eventually," April O'Neil assures. "I think. If yours started out at your first big life-changing adventure, I think I know where ours is about to kick off."

Cowabunga!

"YOU CAN DO WHAT?!" Raph springs out of his seat! "Holy shell! You- did you just make yourself even bigger?!"

"Can make mystic clones of myself now too." Raphie puffs out his chest. "Just apart of being awesome!"

"Look Leo, other you made a portal with his sword!" Mikey shakes Leo. "Dudes, you're like our M&M games, but real!"

Donnie blinks at the screen and then looks at his counterpart. "Was yours also magic, or just-"

"Incredible tech, and yes, the fire is a custom color created by my custom-made fuel." Donald buffs his nails against his shell. "Appearance, is half the battle. I do use mystic quite a bit nowadays, but I'm never ashamed of using pure tech for so long."

The song ends, and a scene opens on two goons with small dogs strapped to their chests chasing a mystic animal of some kind. Someone knocks over a bunch of small flags on stands, which scatter across the path of the goons. Instead of barreling through them, the goons expertly tiptoe through the flags without knocking over or even brushing against a single one.

"Well, that about sets the tone for your universe, doesn't it?" Donnie sinks into the couch.

"Only about half the time," Donald corrects. "Other times things do get... intense."

"We just don't live in the same constant gloom as you all," Splints says. "We actually get to have some nice times every once and a while."

"I am glad to hear it." Splinter seems genuine in the statement. "The hardships we face are so rarely tempered by fun or rest. I am glad not every version of my sons must endure them so regularly."

On screen, the animal continues fleeing, resulting in a bit of chaos as it runs. It gets cornered by the goons, and suddenly teleports away! The scene shifts to a rooftop at night, with some sort of shady deal going on.

"I don't remember this," Raphie says, scratching his head. "I do remember the goons, though."

The camera pans up, and then closes in on the silhouettes of The Turtles. Bits of their colorful accoutrement are visible in the shadows- well, relative shadows.

"Your world is so bright even at nighttime," Raph grumbles. "How do you ever hide?"

"We don't usually bother," Donald says with a shrug. "I believe I remember this, but it had nothing to do with whatever mob deal was going on down there. I don't think we even knew that was happening."

"What were you doing then?"

"Wait and see, Other Me."

The Screen Turtles all leap down to another ledge on the building. Screen Donald's techbo opens up with a claw, and he fires it at a building across from the group.

Donnie's jaw drops. "You- I- it- how?!"

"SCIENCE!" Donald cackles. Sure, his mystic-charged wooden bo is fine, but he does miss his beautiful techbo more often than not. But like Shelldon, it just feels too soon to make a new one.

The Screen Raphie asks for an All-clear from an unseen (but obviously by voice) April O'Neil. They get it, and they zipline across the cable Donald had shot out just moments before. There's an intense shot of them ziplining at high-speeds, fast and action-ready music playing behind them.

"It looks like Super Robo Mecha Force 5!" Mikey stares at the screen in delight.

"Yeah, our show is totally taking some stylistic inspiration from anime!" Angelo holds up a hand, and his whole family high-three/five with a whoop.

"You mean there's more cartoons like Super Robo Mecha Force 5?" Mikey whispers, awed. "Dudes, I need to visit your universe!"

"We all do!" Leo looks the most excited they've seen him since his own show showed a few clips of Space Heroes. "We've been looking for a good new cartoon!"

Angleo rocks even more, excited! "Oh, baby, do we have choices for you! And if you want some movies too, we've got Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim!"

"Jupiter Jim?"

"Um, only one of the best low-budget sci-fi movie franchises ever!" Leon grins at Leo. "We are so going to find a way to send you guys them, that Space Heroes show makes me know you'll love it!"

Raph groans, but Leo literally squeals in excitement. His family all share fond looks around him. He hasn't really been this excited since... well, it's just nice to hear his geek-out squeal again, even if it doesn't sound quite the same as it used to.

On Screen, the mob boss laughs evilly over his money, it shows the turtles again, and... they zipline straight over him.

"Hey, um. Do you ever find out what that guy is up too?" April checks.

"Never seen him before ever." "I'm already forgetting his face." "I don't think so." "Nuh-uh."

"Right. Just wondering."

Instead, they unhook from the line just over a rooftop pool! They drop one by one, each saying a part of the word "Cowabunga" as they do! They cannonball into the pool, and April O'Neil films it on her phone and whoops, even as she's hit with the entire pool's worth of water at incredible volumes of force. All it does is knock her glasses askew.

"What I wouldn't give for our world to have those physics," April groans.

"Ha! You must be this rad to ride that ride!" "Uh, based on our velocity and entry angle, IIIII concur, we rad!"

The duller colored clan burst out into either laughter, soft giggles, or amused smiles at the face Screen Donald makes.

"Okay, maybe your weird expressions aren't that bad," Raph concedes, chuckling a little. "But they're still stupid."

"Ah, just like your overly-large feet, then."

"You little- no, you know what? I'll give you that one." Raph shrugs. "You probably stub your toes way less often."

April O'Neil praises their stunt, and Raphie praises her for being their 'girl with the plan'. Leon praises her for having the keys to the roof while also stealing said keys off of her. Angelo suggests they go bungie-jumping at a public park next, and April O'Neil agrees, putting down a 'Caution: Wet Floor' sign first, as well as a 'Dry pool' sign.

"Well, that's... thoughtful. I think." April gives her counterpart a small and uncertain grin.

"It's not like it costs nothin'," April O'Neil waves off. "They fill those pools up for free!"

"Well, obviously," Donnie says. "Our world isn't that messed up. Ha-ha, could you imagine a world where water isn't free? How horrible would that be?"

They all pause. They feel like someone is looking straight into a camera somewhere with a tired expression (it's the Author).

Back on the Screen, April O'Neil asks Donald if she can hitch a ride. With a statement of "No probles", which makes Mikey laugh and his brothers groan knowing he'll start using that now, Donald turns around. His purple metal shell opens up with a seat and handlebars, and April O'Neil plops onto it as Donald takes off!

Donnie's eyes are giant and watering in what is also a very anime-fashion. "That is so cool, and so, so unfair."

"I'm sure you'll be able to build tech to my standards someday Other Me, he said completely genuinely and not at all to spare the other Donnie's feelings."

Screen Raphie, as he follows his brothers, looks over at a construction site. He spots the animal that was being chased earlier, all alone, shivering and whimpering. He's so distracted by the cuteness and his heartbreak for the little creature that he slams into a wall very hard. Luckily he recovers almost immediately.

"You don't leave the little guy, do you?" Raph leans forward in his seat.

"Of course not!" Raphie is offended by the mere suggestion. "Mayhem is an important part of our family now!"

Raph visibly relaxes at that.

"He's a big softie for animals," Mikey whispers loudly to the colorful clan. "For some reason they love him."

Raphie tears up now. "They do?"

"Yeah, like, almost every animal we meet instantly adores him."

Raphie starts crying, big streams of water pouring down his face while he sniffles. "Good for you, man."

"Whoa, whoa, what's with the waterworks?" Raph looks concerned. "What'd Mikey say?"

"Hey!"

"Animals don't tend to be very nice to Raph," Angelo explains, giving his older brother a hug. "Even Mayhem still isn't."

"What?!" Raph stands up. "But you're like this, giant spiky teddy bear! If I squeezed you I half expect a squeaky toy noise to come out of you!"

"It might," Leon says. "Actually, sometimes all of us do that. Like how you guys sounds like rubber when you move."

"Point is, there's no reason animals should be afraid of him!"

"I think it's my fear stink," Raphie says sadly. "Or my seeing-cute-animals stink. Maybe my worried-about-rejection stink."

"Well, whatever it is, I'll help you figure it out." Raph says it with a growl and a scowl, like he's vowing revenge instead of vowing to help someone get better with animals.

Raphie sniffs. "You-you mean it?"

"I can't have some version of me wandering around his universe with animals hating him! What if you find your world's Spike and can't even take him home because he won't let you? I won't let that happen!"

Raphie sniffs again, the streams of tears disappearing as he wipes his eye. "Thank you, man."

Raph plops back into his seat. "Yeah yeah, thank me when it works."

Screen Raphie jumps down to try and help Mayhem, startling the poor creature as his incredible mass makes a loud 'boom' upon his landing. He starts cooing at Mayhem while his brothers watch, and then laugh at his attempts. He claims that pets love him, and Mayhem viciously attacks his face and shreds his mask. Mayhem then jumps into April O'Neil's arms and begins showering her in affection.

Raphie sighs sadly again, and April O'Neil pats him on the back. "Hey, he'll come around sometime," she assures with a soft smile.

"Yeah, especially since I can already see where that went wrong." Raph flicks Donnie on the head, and when Donnie yelps and turns around to glare at him, he snatches a notebook and pen out of Donnie's shell. He writes down a few notes, and rips the page out to hand to Raphie. "Try these next time you see the little guy."

"You could have just asked," Donnie seethes.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to steal it off of ya."

"Grrrr!"

"Thanks, Tiny Me," Raphie says, pressing the page close to his chest. "You're not as mean as you pretend to be."

"Um, he just stole from his brother through violence," Len points out, sliding up from behind Raphie with a slidewhistle sound.

"But he did it to help someone!" Raphie grins. "So it's a good foundation!"

"Yeah, tell that to yourself," Donnie mumbles, rubbing the back of his head. It doesn't hurt still, but it's the principle of it.

Back on the Screen, All of the characters wonder what Mayhem is when The Goons show up. The Turtles all, somehow, hide themselves entirely behind April O'Neil at the sight of humans as Raphie says to initiate Plan H. They all pop back out, and Leon begins speaking in a strange meant-to-be-a-stereotypical-nerd way, asking for directions to a sci-fi convention.

"Why don't we just do that?" Mikey demands, pointing at the screen. "Hello, like they said, we even sound like rubber! I could say I'm a mascot!"

"Do you really think any humans in our world would believe that?" Leo asks, raising a not-eyebrow.

"... Alright, fine. But we should still try it someday! If we do get caught."

"Which should be never," Splinter reminds sternly.

Screen Angelo also does a fake-nerd voice, and Donald pops in using his own voice and completely flubbing the lie. Leon tells him to make it to rehearsals.

"How could my own son be so poor at acting?" Splints laments. "I suppose it is on me, for failing to pass down the most important lessons of all..."

"I think the 'teaching how to defeat Shredder' lessons were more important, actually," Donald says.

"Hmm. You just say that because you are embarrassed, Purple. But don't be! We will begin acting lessons alongside ninja lessons as soon as we are home, with other Blue joining us!"

This is met with mixed reception.

"Give to me creature. How you say, ah... pretty please. Or I'll destroy you."

"His name wouldn't happen to be Steranko, would it?" Donnie ventures.

"Oh, these guys ain't actually human," Raphie says. "They're yokai."

"Wait, yokai spirits are real in your world? We pretended to be yokai once, but we've never met any real ones."

"Oh yeah, yeah, we're part yokai," Leon says with a grin. "That's what mutants are for us."

"I wouldn't call yokai spirits, though," Angelo adds. "Just sort of, mystic people animals!"

Back on Screen, Raphie threatens to defend April O'Neil, and April O'Neil threatens to defend her friends if the threats continue to threaten them. It's as long-winded as it sounds, in an amusing way. After making Donald insecure about his voice, the goons transform into their true Yokai forms in a big show of purple lights. Their tiny puppies become hellhound-like creatures, and they carry mighty weapons with them! The Turtles are stunned, until-

"Soooo... you guys from Jersey?"

Leo lets out a single sharp laugh. Mikey reaches out to Leon for a fist-bump.

Screen Angelo is disappointed in Leon's joke, which Screen Leon defends as a coping mechanism. Raphie says it just means they can finally use their weapons, using the word 'ahoy', which prompts Screen Donald to lament that they were saving that for a ship-based adventure.

"So, just making sure I understand this right," Donnie says, "You've never used your weapons before, including during training?"

"Well, we didn't so much as train as uh, watch Lou Jitsu movies and copy the moves," Raphie says with an embarrassed chuckle as he rubs his neck. "And a few online video tutorials."

"You did not train your sons at all?" Splinter aims a narrow gaze at Splints.

"Oh, excuse me for wanting them to be children for a few years," Splints says with a roll of his eyes. "I do regret my repeated absence from their lives, deeply, and for failing to prepare them when they were of the right age, but I never regret raising them as children rather than warriors!"

"They need to be warriors to survive! The world is not a kind place for creatures like them, like us!"

"Exactly! I was already dealing with my ex-lover kidnapping me to be a battle slave, and then being turned into a rat! They were dealing with growing up hidden in the sewers and being strange turtle-human hybrids! I did not want to pile onto that! So action movies were their sensei, and I told myself I would train them properly when the time was right! ... And by the time it was right... the forces against us were much farther ahead."

The room goes quiet.

Silently, privately, everyone wonders if maybe neither Splinter did things right, or wrong. If maybe, there's no true good answer to the problem. Raise them as normal kids, and they'll never make it. Raise them as warriors, and what parts of them do make it may not be the parts they need most.

But no-one voices it aloud.

So the show plays on.

The fight begins, and true to the colorful clan's assurances when watching the duller clan's own first battle, it's a disaster. Donnie's techbo doesn't work as intended, though thankfully Mayhem retrieves it through teleporting, which distracts Screen Donald long enough for him to be hit very painfully. Angelo and Raphie tag-team the one that attacked Donald, while Leon makes a quip to the other about ruining cannonball day and goes for an attack. His katanas are broken instantly.

"Ugh, been there too many times to count," Leo groans. "Sensi must replace our weapons at least twice a month each. More for Donnie."

"It's wood! How am I supposed to keep it in good condition if it's wood?!"

"That wasn't a dig, D, I was just saying!"

"Yeah, bro! You're a statistical outlier."

The duller clan all freeze, eyes wide white discs as they stare at Mikey in shock. He has his eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face.

"How do you know what that is?" Donnie marvels.

"How do you think I keep track of which pizza places are worth ordering from, bro? Most of them are Great to Passable, but there's a real bummer place on that one corner, the one as clipped the streetlamp with the Party Wagon that one time? Total. Statistical. Outlier. I didn't know pizza could be that bad!"

The staring continues for a bit, and then they all wordlessly look back at the TV. Donald gives Mikey a thumbs up form the other side of the couch, which makes Mikey smile.

On Screen, Leon throws his little sword stub at the villain and keeps fighting, dodging hits and claiming he doesn't need weapons to beat them because of his rad skills. As he says it he runs up the side of a cement truck, flips off- and lands on his neck quite painfully, collapsing into a heap of limbs.

The dull clan all scream, and Donnie is up and checking Leon's neck in a second. "How did that not break you neck entirely?! Did you get throat damage, any loss of mobility-"

"Whoa, settle down there mi hermano!" Leon pushes him away. "I'm fine, that kind of thing happens to us all the time! Just another difference in our worlds or something!"

"Oh. Okay, okay. Good, I-I think." Donnie hesitates, and then goes back to his seat. Leo rubs his brother's shell, giving him an understanding look. Throat injuries and Leos... not something Donnie can take lightly.

On Screen it cuts to a shot of Raphie being punched, and then telling Angelo to go 'ninja mode'. They both slink into the shadows of the construction site, and it closeups on the villain... who points them out right away because they did not hide well.

"You guys are better at that now, right?" April checks.

"Way better." Raphie is cringing at seeing his past self try to hide behind the skinny metal beam. "Funny, I didn't realize how much progress we really made in such a short time."

"I'm very proud of you boys," Splints says (which makes Donald sparkle and giggle in utter blissful joy). "Not for this, this is very embarrassing. But for how you have grown from this!"

Screen Raph, meanwhile, is shot at by a beam of mystic energy from the villain's sword. He lets out a funny little yelp and announces plan doube-B, making Angelo whoop and pop into his shell. Raph throws him at the villain, who catches Angelo easily. Angelo pulls out his nunchucks with a grin and starts swinging! And hitting! Himself. As the chucks doinks uselessly off of the villain's arm.

"Hoo, this is worse than I remember," Angelo says, covering his eyes a little. "I guess I get it from storytelling, showing how we start off and all, but this is rough!"

Screen Angelo, covered in bruises and bumps from his accidental self-assault, is then further injured by the villain tossing him away with a mystic bubble then crushing his nunchucks. Raphie tells the villain to 'pick on someone my size' and a bell dings like it's a wrestling match. The villain just snaps his fingers and has his dog attack Raph instead. It bites Raph's head, throws him around, and then tosses him clear across the construction site. To add insult to injury, it vaporizes his sai.

"Um, can we turn this off, actually?" Raphie looks for a remote. "Raph's not enjoying this anymore."

"No, no, this is where I come in again!" April O'Neil beams.

Indeed, on screenshe begins throwing bricks and threatening the villains. They don't say a word, just make a mystic bubble around Mayhem to prevent the poor creature from teleporting away. April O'Neil holds into the bubble as tight as she can, but the villain blasts her away with mystic energy.

"I have the agent, and the vial!"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." April O'Neil rubs her chin and looks down. "I should probably ask Barry what that meant, huh? Because if Mayhem's a secret agent of kind, I need to get him a medal."

But no medal comes for Screen Mayhem. Instead the villains activate some kind of rune and open a portal on a lone out-of-place brick wall, making the turtle all exclaim in awe. A bike riding pizza boy, for some reason, rides through the construction site... and right into the portal. No-one stops him. He falls a long way down the tunnel, and Screen Angelo shouts as Screen Leon makes an "Ooy" sound. The villains run through with Mayhem... and April O'Neil follows them! Raphie tries to jump through after her, but it closes!

"Wow!" April looks at her counterpart. "So you chose to get involved, and I was sort of... thrown into it. How weird."

"But it looks like you dealt with it good!" April O'Neil gestures to the tessen in April's pocket. "You even got a weapon!"

April smiles. "Yeah, well... it helped to have such good friends supporting me through it."

The colorful clan all "Awwww" as the duller clan all blush and Splinter gives her a proud smile.

On screen, Raphie shouts 'April!' as he sits up with a large bump on his head from hitting the wall. Leon says she's probably okay because there's no 'April bits on the ground'-

"Blech!" Mikey shudders at the thought. The colorful clan all see a little thought bubble rise from his head showing a notebook-sketch-like imagining of his own April going through a wall and coming out like paper shreds on the other side, making Mikey whimper at his own imagination. But none of the duller clan react to the disturbing visual, so they either can't see it, or have see such things very often (it's the former).

-and Raphie shouts to ask April O'Neil if her bits are on the other side of the wall. They all wonder where she went, and Angelo looks at the symbol and realizes they know it. The image of the wall fades to show a messy shelf, and Angelo comments about it being 'Splints's do not touch cabinet'.

"Dudes, our Splinter's whole room is a do-not-touch zone!" Mikey wringles his not-nose as the screen shows Splints watching some kind of Japanese game show, but it's not in any sort of negative emotion, just... surprise. "He lets you go in there?"

"This is the living room," Donald corrects. "We'd never go into Splinter's room willingly, but yes, when he's sick we have been in there on occasion."

"Yours gets sick?" Raph's eyes go wide. "I've never even seen our Splinter sneeze!"

Splinter gives a proud chuckle. He's not some fully-infallible being, they all know it, but a lot of human sicknesses don't seem to affect his family at all, and he's mastered the art of silent or imperceptible sneezing- a must for ninjas living in a very dusty New York.

The Screen Turtles start wondering how to get the item from Splints, and Raphie decides to try and get him out of the room. They all slide (literally) in front of the projection of the show, bowing slightly. Raphie asks for the living room in a bright voice, and it cuts to show Splints laying in his chair covered in crumbs and drinking a whole carton of milk with a straw.

"Splints leaps to his feet, standing on the couch. "This show is a outrage! I am not-"

He's stopped by skeptical glares from all of his children, April O'Neil included. He sighs and sinks back down. "Fine. Maybe I do look like that." He looks at his own hands sadly. "... But it is hard to take pride in your body when it is... this."

One the other side of the couch, Donnie watches Splints with sympathy. He knows how that feels.

"We love you, Pops," Raphie assures, bringing his dad into a big group hug. "No matter how many crumbs your robe is full of."

Splints sighs and smiles a little, hugging back the best he can. "Thank you, my sons."

On screen it's... less heartwarming. Splints laughs at them for even asking for the room, claiming he thought 'Purple' is the funny one, which Donald agrees with in a flat tone. Donald then offers to hook it up for Splints to watch in bed, but Splints declines because his butt is asleep in his preferred fashion.

Splints glances over at his other self, expecting a look of intense judgement. But Splinter mostly just looks... curious, possibly trying to figure out how the two ended up so different.

Screen Splints waves the turtles out of the room and laughs at his shows, so Raphie begins forming a new plan. He's interrupted by-

"Leon's got it!"

"You call yourself Leon?" Leo looks at his counterpart. "Why?"

"Why don't you? We can have more than just one nickname, my friend! A little variety, spice up the identity! Better than- what'd your Raph call you? Fearless Leader? Oh, man, that nickname is bad! It just adds pressure!"

"It doesn't add pressure, just annoys."

"Whatever you say, Other Me." Leon leans closer to Donald. "It totally adds pressure, I know it."

"Oh, definitely," Donald whispers back with a nod. "But what's a Leo without an inability to voice lapses in confidence?"

"Don't make me point out your fake confidence, Don."

"It's not fake, I'm astounding."

"So why do you turn into a puddle of happy goo whenever Dad says even the most bare minimum nice thing about your inve-"

"HEY LET'S STOP INTERRUPTING THE SHOW ACTUALLY-"

"I KNEW IT!"

On screen Leon reminds his brothers that their father passes out 'after milk and cake', and it cuts back to the construction site. Raphie holds up the trinket, sticking his tongue out as he tries to figure it out. Donald doesn't help with the comment of "A few hours ago I would've called this foolish and impossible. Now I just call it foolish!"

"Did you think magic didn't exist?" Donnie seems surprised.

'Wait, you did think it exists? But your world doesn't even have mystic powers!"

"No, but we have a spirit realm, and I always figured if that exists-"

"You have a spirit realm? We have spirits too but I don't know if they have a whole world."

"We've been to ours... sort of. We went out into some woods for a few days and fought some spirits once."

"We forged our own new armor and weapons and everything!" Mikey butts in excitedly. "I fought a spirit that looks like Rahzar- do you guy have him? Ugh, he's the worst, dudes! Anyway, we all had to fight different enemies, and I had to learn how to focus, and Donnie had to learn how to uh, trust his strength or something? And Raph had to learn to manage his anger again and Leo had to learn make his leg stop hurting-"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" April O'Neil waves her hands to stop Mikey talking. "Come again? Who told you guys that?"

"I found them from the spirit realm," Splinter says. "I'd been separated from my body, and sought them out to prepare them for their return to New York."

"There's a lot of missing context there, let's all acknowledge that before moving forward," Donald says, "But to me that sounds a little bit like telling Mikey to just stop having ADHD and telling Leo some kind of injury is all in his head instead of letting it heal."

"It's fine, it was all in my head," Leo says firmly. But the way he rubs his knee... begs to differ.

"We'll have words about this later," Angelo says sweetly. But then all of a sudden he is staring at all of them with the most dead-eyed smile as flames rise behind him and he looms over them. "Because remember we'll probably see all of that at some point and any lies or secrets will be exposed."

He smile sweetly again, now once more normal sized and sitting in his seat, and the show continues to play.

On screen, the brothers are discussing the pressure Raphie is under to get this right and clearly making it so much worse as the shots zoom in on Raphie's eyes and a bead of sweat rolls down his face. After demanding they stop talking about his fear stink-

"He retained that from his mutation? Fascinating!"

"Uh, what?"

"You're a snapping turtle, right? Snapping turtles can release a musky odor when they're stressed! We never smelt it from Spike because he just took everything as-is, so I always wondered if it was true or not."

"Oh, it's true." Leon laughs, once again draping himself across his larger brother's shoulders. "He has a lot of stinks, actually, it's like a mood ring but smelly!"

"Stop talkin' about it! You're making Raph self conscious!" Raphie shoves Leon off of him.

Screen Raphie holds the trinket to the wall and tries to make it open, even punching the wall and throwing it at the wall, but it just shoots off, hits Raphie's head, and lands in front of Angelo. Angelo says to let him, the 'artist of the crew' try, and Leon agrees because he can't do any worse. It works for Angelo immedietely, opening up the portal right away!

"Heck yeah!" Angelo pumps his fists in the air. "Magic hands, baby! Oh, if Junior could see this he'd be all over it, that has to be because I'm meant to be a mystic master!"

"Oh-ho, you're so right bro!" Leon fist-bumps Angelo. "Look at that, it was all right in front of us the whole time!"

And with barely a moment of debate, the Screen Turtles cannonball right into the portal, Raphie leading and the other following right behind. They all land horribly painfully except for Leon, who says the words 'Land safely' aloud as he almost loses balance. Clearly he took a lesson from his earlier mishap with the cement truck stunt. It zooms out, showing a huge city with marvelous and strange buildings, creatures, and vehicles!

The duller clan all marvel just as the Screen Turtles do.

"I can smell Raph's amazement stink."

"Smell my amazement stink too, dudes, that's awesome! Please tell me we'll be seeing a lot more of this place!" Mikey looks at them with a wide smile.

The colorful clan all think. Leon tsks. "Um... so..."

"We've only visited there again... once?" Raphie says, rubbing the back of his head.

"Um... twice, if we count when Nardo portalled us out of Tahiti," Donald says. "I think."

"We kind of ended up in jail and broke out, so... I don't know if they love us there." Leon gives a bashful smile and shrugs. "It was all a lot of misunderstandings."

"We've been there," Leo sighs. "I mean, not a mystic city, but someone branding us as criminals or menaces when we aren't."

"On the bright side, more things to relate on!" Angelo smiles too widely, hoping to draw some real ones from the others.

"Kind of an upsetting thing to relate on," Donnie sighs, "But... I guess it's a little comforting knowing we aren't the only one this happens to."

The show pans down for a closer look at the strange city, landing on the still-awestruck Screen Turtles. April whispers to them from behind, and they immedietely surround her in a big group hug.

"Donnie, where are we?"

Donnie groans at the screen. "Yours do that too?!"

"Do... what? Look to me for answers because they're dum-dums?" Donald's statement results in some protesting from his family, not about their dum-dum status, but about how they don't actually seek out his answers most of the time, he just gives them. These protests go ignored.

Donnie throws his hands out to the screen. "Yeah! Wait, it doesn't bother you?"

"Not really. Like I said, they're dum-dums."

"Oh." Donnie suddenly stiffens, and looks at his now glaring family. A 2-D bead of sweat suddenly appears on his forehead with a "bloob" sound, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Um, what I meant by agreeing that' your dums-dums is that, besides April and Sensei-"

"We don't look to you for all the answers," Leo says.

Donnie's 2-D sweat disappears, and he scowls. "Are you kidding me, Leo? You guys expect me to know everything right off the top of my head!"

"That's 'cause you're the smart one, D!" Mikey holds his knees and rocks in place. "You keep acting like we don't know anything, so you gotta!"

"You not knowing to stay out of my lab and Raph not knowing how power conduits work is different!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes it-!"

"Boys!" Splinter rubs the space between his eyes. "Donatello, your brothers rely on your intellect and ability to learn quickly during battle, and in day-to-day life. That is an honor, to be looked up to in such a way."

"But they don't look up to me," Donnie grumps, crossing his arms. "They look down on me for being a nerd."

"It's our burden to carry," Donald says, eyes closed as he nods and slides over to pat Donnie's hand. "We got all of the brains out of the mutation process, clearly."

Donnie laughs a little at that. It eases the tension a bit.

On Screen, Donald gives a scientific explanation to Raphie before April O'Neil corrects him with an entirely different, yet correct, explanation of it being a hidden city under New York.

"Um... wouldn't that collapse?" Mikey tilts his head. "Because like... I thought sinkholes were bad."

"... Huh." April O'Neil thinks about it. "... You know, it's maybe better to just be glad it doesn't seem to matter."

Screen Leon asks where the 'dog thing' is-

"That thing is way more cat than dog," Raph mutters.

-and April O'Neil points them all toward a large and very imposing castle. They enter easily in the very next shot, all exclaiming in wonder again as Donald admires the aesthetic with shining eyes. They come to the edge of the upper entrance platform and find Mayhem and the delivery boy both locked in vine-like mystic cages, but before they can save them a tall, terrifying creatures enters his shadow looming before a shot pans up to reveal his intimidating glare.

Splints laughs. "What a dramatic try-hard!"

"Pops! Remember, we're not holding Barry's past against him anymore!"

"This is not holding it against him! This is making fun of him, behind his back! Completely harmless!"

"Wait, this is the guy who's your other dad now?!" Leo gapes at them.

"Yeah! Draxum made us, so after The Shredder sucked out his life force I helped him get back on his feet! He helped us save the world from Shredder!" Angelo beams.

"Dude, you should meet my friend Leatherhead!" Mikey pulls out his T-Phone and shows Angelo a picture. "He also met us by attacking us and then became our friend!"

"Oooooh, Leatherhead is such a cool name for an alligator!"

"Came up with it myself! See, his head, it looks and feels like leather!"

"So clever!"

On the screen the delivery boy somehow believes this is due to the pizza shop's calamari being made of pig butts, and Draxum dismisses the claim. The gargoyles on his shoulders suddenly move, jumping down seemingly just to scare the human in the cage.

"Where did those guys go, by the way?" Leon looks at his family. "Anyone know?"

"Nope. But I don't think we gotta worry," Raphie says. "They're only bad guys by proxy, really. Without Draxum they're just weird little flying things."

"True."

Draxum grabs a vial off of Mayhem and informs the delivery boy that he's about to be experimented on, which the delivery seems excited about. It briefly cuts back to the turtles and April O'Neil, who all seem much more concerned. But they don't act, and watch on as Draxum pours the vial into a large machine.

"You're just going to let him to this? You need to jump in!" Leo is leaning forward in his seat, staring in disbelief at the TV.

"We're gonna! We just needed a second."

"To do what?!"

"We were a little curious where it was going," Leon admits. "But we stop him! ... More or less..."

Draxum's machine powers up, and April O'Neil and Raphie comment about this is probably a bad thing. The liquid from the vial causes some kind of mass to form at the top of the machine, which strange-looking mosquitoes suck into their bodies. Draxum brings one over to the delivery boy, who asks if it will hurt as his cage changes to suspend him in the air. Draxum confirms it will hurt, happily, and the mosquito bites the human. The ooze inside turns him into some kind of fish-mutant in a painful and disturbing process (though still not quite as horrific as what they saw from Snakeweed) as The Turtles and April watch on in horror.

"You just let that guy mutate?!" Donnie stands up and snarls at the colorful clan. "You just watched! It's your fault that he's stuck like that now! You could have prevented it!"

"Excuse us for being a little slow to act on our first ever villain encounter just after losing all our weapons!" Leon crosses his arms. "You wouldn't have jumped in unarmed either!"

"I'd have to!" Donnie looms over the still-sitting other clan, irises and pupils pinpricks as he seethes. "Do you even understand how serious that is?! How life-destroying being mutated IS for humans?!"

"Do not lecture my sons on such a thing!" Splints leaps in front of Donnie, looking up and jabbing a finger at him. "They understand very well now!"

"They don't seem that sorry!" Donnie spits. "Do you even know how to reverse it?! Have you even tried to develop a retromutagen?!"

"Donnie, calm down." April puts her hands on his shoulders. "It's not the same for them."

"They let someone be mutated! April, they didn't even try to-!"

"Hey." She steps between him and Splints. "My dad is home, and safe," she reminds him in a soft voice. "And we'll find a way to thaw out Timothy. He won't be stuck like that forever."

Splints's own fire fizzles out as they all watch Donnie sag, the anger leaving him entirely and replaced by sorrow and guilt.

"I-I just..."

"I know. We all know." April guides him back to his seat.

"You'll figure it out, bro," Mikey says, tone as soft as April's as he pats his brother's knee. Donnie just sighs.

"... Who exactly is Timothy?" Donald keeps his own voice soft as well. At first he'd figured it was just a friend who got frozen, but now...

"... A human teen who tried to help us." Donnie brings his legs up and hugs himself into a little ball. "It was our fault- my fault, he got doused with mutagen. He... he was just wanting to be like us. Be a hero."

"He got turned into this freaky pile of clear goo with guts and stuff," Mikey says, scooting to press close to his brother's side. "He lived in Donnie's lab for a while, but after a while he lost it and tried to kidnap April and kill us."

"It wasn't his fault." Donnie's voice is small. "The mutagen... he was barely even sentient. And-and now he's frozen, from a tainted batch of retromutagen we used to stop him, and I can't... I can't figure out how to unfreeze him to turn him back. ... He was my friend. And... we ruined his life. His family's life. ... He just wanted to help us."

The room is quiet for a very, very long time.

"I'm... not a chemist," Donald says slowly. "I'm more a machine's man. I know I agreed to unfreeze your friend, but... if it's that complicated, it... may take some time."

"Everything does," Donnie mutters. "... New deal, though. I want a sample of your world's mutagen. I'm going to find a cure for it, and you're going to offer it to every mutant you know."

"Okay." Donald nods.

"We didn't mean to seem insensitive," Angelo says. "We haven't had something like that happen to a friend before. All of our mutated friends still have their minds, and none of them turned into-"

"It's fine." Donnie hugs himself tighter. "I-I'm sorry I blew up at you. You didn't know what would happen to that person. Just... I hope he's okay."

The tension doesn't really lift, just... loosens, a bit.

The show begins again, the new mutant screaming and flopping around comically. Different sections of the screen show the various reactions of the Teens, most reacting with disgust and shock while Donald makes a joke about it being confirmed the crab cakes were indeed imitation crab.

Mikey lets out a little laugh. He's the only one. It's... not the most joke-ready mood.

On Screen, Donald's brothers look at him in disapproval of the joke as the new mutant mourns having to deal with being a fish just after getting used to acne. Donnie curls up even tighter in his seat, eyes a little misty. Mikey and April both press against his sides to comfort him.

On screen the mutant runs out of the lab. Draxum pays it no mind and simply enjoys that the mutation worked "like it did all those years ago".

Splints is the one who sighs sadly now, looking at his hands. Donnie glances over at him, and when their eyes meet, there's an unspoken understanding between them despite the previous fight.

They'd both been coming from the same place with their feelings, after all.

Screen Angelo wonders if they could be part imitation crab, making Screen Donald laugh and then disappointedly realize it Was Not A Joke. Draxum threatens Mayhem once more, spurring April O'Neil to call to action. Leon remind her they're unarmed except for Donald, and Donald brags about his staff being high-grade titanium. Raphie tries to encourage them to fight even without weapons, but April O'Neil reveals that she, somehow, found the weapons room.

"You should be leading their team," April says, her voice still soft as the mood in the room continues to feel soured.

April O'Neil laughs a little. "Lead this team of bozos and juggle college? Nah, I'll leave that to Leo and Raph."

Screen Turtles all fall down a chute, along with April O'Neil. The turtles all land in a heap of limbs while their human friend just bounces off and lands perfectly on her feet. They all marvel once again at the weapons room and begin picking out familiar weapons of katanas and nunchucks- until Raphie points out the glowy ones. With zero hesitation they all grab the clearly magic items, except for Donald. Even at April O'Neil's prompting he refuses and promises his techbo he'll never let it go-

"Ooooh, Dontron broke his promise!"

"Her spirit lives on through the mystic tech I wield, Nardo!"

"You still broke it!"

-and takes some kind of crystal instead.

Fully armed, the Screen Turtles set out to save Mayhem. Mayhem is shown to be being prodded and tormented by the gargoyles-

"If we'd seen that I would have snaped their little wings off," Raphie growls. "Who does that to a dog-thing?!"

"If we visit your world I'll help you hunt them down and snap off their wings." Raph cracks his knuckles.

One again The Screen Turtles tumble out of a chute into a heap, APril being the only one with an okay landing. Raphie begins trying to give a hero speech, when Leon adds a note. Then Donald does, and then Angelo, and Raphie can't seem to deny their notes and just finish his sentence. While they ramble, Draxum stares at them in tearful awe. Raphie tries one more time to make the speech, and finally the bored April O'Neil leaps into action!

"Ugh." Donnie leans away from the screen. "Why are your eyes bugging out like that? It's reminding me of Rockwell."

"I'll be honest, I had no idea they did that in that moment." Donald shrugs. "But as we established, our worlds have a vast different in emotive expression."

WHile the Screen Turtles panic over April O'Neil just running right in, she lands on Mayhem's cage and begins trying to chew through it.

"It is a constant," April laughs. "Ugh, that must have tasted awful."

"Didn't taste anything over the adrenaline. Now that you mention it, I'm pretty glad I didn't manage to bite through. Those gargoyles might've saved me from a nasty experience!"

Draxum uses some kind of mystic vines to attack. The Turtles just run down them, save for Leon, who is very vocal about his hatred of it. Drxum then releases a giant monster, which Leon hates the fact that it looks at him. It destroys the vines and Draxum commands it capture The Turtles as specimens. They all leap up as Raphie cries "Cowabunga!", Leon taking longer just so he can do a fancy little move.

"What was that for?" Leo looks over.

"For flair." Leon flips his mask tails like they're hair. "And the floor was a little slippery, but I saved the moment!"

The mood finally starts lifting in the room again.

Screen Leon slashes right through the monsters leg, and it roars in pain! It throws stone blocks at Raphie and Angelo, and while Raphie gets hit a few times ANgelo leaps through them with ease and laugher! Angelo uses his weapon to throw Raphie forward and-

"What's Hot Soup supposed to be?" Raph looks at his counterpart. "That's like, the second time you've said it."

"It's Pops's catchphrase form his old Lou Jitsu movies!" Raphie picks up Splints. "Say it for them, Pops!"

"Put me down! You cannot force a Hot Soup moment!" Splints waves his arms in protest. "It is not just some catchphrase, it is a warriors battle cry! It is not my fault it also happens to look good on t-shirts and merchandise!"

Screen Raphie slams into the monster's face, knocking it to the ground! Donald jumps in, his battle shell opening to Flight Mode (making Donnie drool over the tech once more). He tries again with the two rockets on the end of his techbo, and this time it works extremely effectively! The monster is completely defeated, and Draxum admires their accidental skills as all of them but Donald lay groaning in pain in the wreckage. Leon takes it as a surrender, but alas... it is not.

"Wait wait wait, what training? You don't train at all?" Leo looks at his counterpart. Leon looks back with a defensive remark right at the tip of his tongue-

But Leo doesn't look judgemental.

He looks concerned. It reminds Leon so much of Raphie's looks that the snark dies before he says it.

"I do now." Leon shrugs. "We weren't really expecting to do any big fighting or heroics back then. Trust me, I learned how important it is."

Leo sits back, relaxing a little. "I'm glad. Maybe we should try training together sometime then. It looks like you end up swapping out those other weapons for ones like ours anyway, we can compare techniques. Learn from each other."

"I don't know, your guys' training session looked way more formal than we do them. We tried it that way once and it got us kidnapped for ransom."

"How did- nevermind. A little informal sparring then?"

"Now that I can get behind."

Draxum uses more mystic balls to add some kind of powerful outer layer to his arms. Their attacks do nearly nothing to him, but while he goes to brag April O'Neil finally gets the one-up on the gargoyles. Draxum uses the moment to trap her in some kind of cocoon, making Mikey launch another attack! But this time-

"IT'S A FIRE FACE!" Mikey jumps up and cheers! "DUDES, THAT'S THE COOLEST MAGIC WEAPON EV-AH!"

"I miss old Fire Face," Angelo says with a content nostalgic sigh.

Screen Angelo, of course, does not have good mastery of his weapon right away, but manages to blow up the ooze mass at the top of the machine and land a hit on Draxum nonetheless. Raphie tries next, flailing his arms and excitedly begging for it to work, and red lightning suddenly envelops his arms! He's betrayed by it, alas, and Leon decides that's a good enough signal to find his out by running right at Draxum and swinging. It... does nothing. For a second. Then it opens up two portals above and below each other, sending him on an endless loop through both.

"I think I'm going to be sick just remembering that feeling," Leon says, gagging a little. "Portal loops are not fun."

"Wait, but, what's Raphie's then?" Donnie asks. "You have portals, Angelo has, uh... fire... demons, he has... electricity?"

"It's actually a sort of energy-body thing. I can make a really big version of me, make really big or long arms, make clones, it's pretty awesome! And it's not actually our weapons, totally, it's our ninpo!"

"Your world is both fascinating and terrifying."

"Thanks! ... I think."

Screen Donald slides up next to Draxum and begins his own attack, being shockingly effective all on his own until Angelo, yanked around by his weapon, knocks into him. Draxum gives a classic 'under me you could be true warriors' speech-

"Kinda surprised Shredder hasn't ever tried that on us, actually," Mikey says.

"I think he knows we'd never go for it." Raph smirks. "Besides, we're already true warriors! I'm not saying you guys aren't by the way. Assuming you get better than this."

Angelo laughs. "So much better, I cannot wait for y'all to see how awesome we are later on!"

-and cocoons all the remaining turtles. Donald realizes the machine behind Draxum is about to blow when April O'Neil says they still need to save Mayhem, but Draxum is so preoccupied with his 'Join me' speech that he doesn't notice until Donald points it out. The explosion squishes Draxum under a rock and frees Mayhem, who's the only reason they all survive as he teleports them out! They get back to New York and celebrate their first successful fight!

"Oooooh, I get it." Leon nods as his Screen Self tries to propose a name other than Mad Dogs. "It's the thing where I almost say the show title, but then I don't! It's a running gag, I've been doing a running gag this whole time guys!"

"Wait, does that mean we're actually a TV show? Like, someone wrote us?" April O'Neil wonders.

"Don't think about it too hard," Mikey advises. "Our cartoons always reflect what's gonna happen or did happen to us most days, but like, we don't talk about that. 'Cause then it's too real."

The onscreen celebrations are ended, however, but thousands of the oozequitos flying out of the portal and into New York city! With the sun rising The Turtles have no choice but to flee back home and leave it for another day. A single oozequito flies right into the screen and squishes... ending the episode.

"Huh, it took us like, a year before something like that happened to us, with the mutagen getting all over the city and stuff! You've got some bad luck, dudes."

"But, also a pretty sick first adventure, right?" Leon nods, smiling widely. "I mean come on, we got magic weapons right off the bat!"

"It certainly makes me interested in seeing more," Splinter says, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Many mysteries were hinted at, and much potential was shown."

"Oh, we live up to that potential, baby!" Angelo winks. "Just you wait and see!"

"Looks like we'll be waiting a while." Donald points at the screen. "We're back to their universe next."

"Awwww, man!" Mikey goes limp with disappointment. "We already know that one! I wanna keep watching you guys!"

"I'm sure we'll get back to us," Angelo assures. "I mean, how long can these shows be, anyway?"

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt #tmnt fic #tmnt fanfiction #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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chickensoup-4-mysoul · 19 days

Text

herculean (drrr x f!reader)

Chapter 10 - Beginning of the End

synopsis: just as you're returning back to normal following the slasher incident, you receive a strange message that knocks you off-kilter

word count: 7,531

warnings: violence, minor blood, minor sexual harassment

"someone, come quickly this place was built for moving out leave behind buildings, the city planners got mapped out,, the execution of all things - rilo kiley

ERIKA Walker replaced Saburo's door. Wanna see?

ME Absolutely.

ERIKA Attachment: 1 Image

You drop your phone from laughing so hard at the picture. It's a selfie, with Walker and Erika posing for the camera in front of the van's door. The door itself is an entirely different color and, more importantly, has a cute anime girl in a maid's costume on it. The funniest part was that both Kyohei and Saburo could be seen in the back, visibly in grief. Oh, poor, poor Saburo!

ME There's no way you guys aren't gonna be recognized with that!

ERIKA That's what Dotachin said!

ERIKA Are you doing okay?

There it was. Erika was always a carefree person, always with a lighthearted air about her. It was rare to see her talk about more serious matters, or at least approach them in a serious way. When she did, it was always in disguise; sandwiched between jokes and fun conversation.

ME Yeah, just tired. I ran an errand this morning. besides that I think I'm gonna have a day in, today.

Said 'errand' was a trip to the hospital to visit Anri, who had her own run-in with the slasher. You kept your cool, however--someone had to because it was only Mikado there after Masaomi ran off. It was only a lot of small cuts, you noticed, easily treated with bandages and disinfectant. She was surprisingly chipper, smiling for the first time in what felt like a while. You grinned, amused as she explains her story of the Headless Rider coming to save her. The grin broadened at the blush on her cheeks. A little crush on Celty, huh? Mikado's got some competition! Mikado was sweet about it, assuring her that he believed her admittedly crazy story. "If you said it, it must be true!"

"Oh, it was. I was attacked by the Slasher, myself. In my own apartment, no less." They both stared at you with wide eyes. Smiling back, you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. "It was actually the Headless Rider who saved me, as well. Not just that, though, but Shizuo Heiwajima, too!"

Mikado's eyes were practically popping out of his head at your story. As he ranted nervously about the two of you having some interesting lives, you made eye contact with Anri, who snuck you a smile. You were just glad she was alright.

ERIKA Cool. Let us know if you need anything. :)

Ah, so it was an 'us'. Your heart flutters as you wonder if the boys were worried as well. They were all so kind to you--it was crazy how lucky you were. Living here was wild, you had to admit that, but the friends made it worth it. It occurred to you that this would only last for a year. What would you do once you left? You could always text and email, sure, but what about the people that weren't texters? What about the people that you weren't necessarily the closest to, but were still consistent in your every day life? What about the shops you liked the most and your favorite hangout spots?

Texting is a fine and dandy form of communication but it's not comparable to seeing them in person. Nothing could compare to the stars in Erika's eyes, Walker's enthusiastic gestures, Saburo's happy tears, Kyohei's exhausted sighs, Shizuo's warm, brown stare, Anri's mousy voice, or Celty's tapping fingers. You wouldn't see any more of that once you left. Sighing, you realize how much you've dampened your spirits. Your phone vibrates with another text and you check it, assuming it's another one of your friends.

Your blood turns to ice in a matter of seconds. You swallow in an attempt to wet your drying mouth, but nothing could relieve the sudden need for water.

FATHER You need to come home. Soon.

Your father was a curt man. What he needed to express, he expressed with actions. Not words, not phone calls, and certainly not texts. Your hands are trembling now. You thought that everything was going fine! What possibly could have happened? Shakily, you type out a message in reply.

ME Why, has something happened?

The sudden appearance of a call startles you and you drop your phone in surprise. Lo and behold, your father's contact appears on the screen. You take a moment to compose yourself before answering the call. There's eery silence.

"H-hello?"

"(Y/N)."

It had been so long since you had heard his voice. On any other occasion, it would have been soothing to you, but there was something about this context, his tone, that sets you on edge. Ignoring your growing dread, you clear your throat and answer him, polishing your out-of-practice English the best that you could.

"Good morning, Father! I-I've missed y-."

"There is a plane coming for you tonight. I expect you to board that flight and be home by midnight."

"What!? Did something happen, are you okay??"

"Do not worry about me. I've simply decided that sending you to Ikebukuro was not the most optimal course of action. You are to return immediately." It was foreign, how he was speaking to you. He had always been a curt man, but your father was always warm and affectionate to you. Now he was so impersonal, commanding.

"Father, you're frightening me a little..."

"You do not intend to disobey me, do you?"

The sudden severity of his tone makes you wince. It seemed that whatever situation this was, it was dire. You meekly reply that no, you would never disobey him and you would see him tonight.

"Good. Do not worry about packing, just come as you are. And one more thing. You are not to speak of this to anyone. Disappear without a trace." At this, you are completely awake. You stand from your position on the bed, surprised by the feeling that had welled up in you so quickly. For the first time, you were feeling outraged towards your beloved father. Disappear? Without a trace?? How could he possibly expect that from you? You had already made so much progress with your studies!! More importantly, what about all of your friends? Just in the past month, you had gotten closer to them than you ever had to anyone! They even seemed to really like you! Some even seemed to…

It’s hard to discern the exact source of the burning sensation in your face, but it spurs you to speak up. However, the moment you open your mouth, there’s a click and the line goes dead.

The sound of the monotone infuriates you. Tears of frustration pool in the corners of your eyes as you throw yourself onto your bed. What on earth was this? A month had gone by without any contact with your father. He had warned you of this, stating that he wanted you to have an independent experience. In spite of that, you had got along fine! You were only knocked out cold by the strongest man in Ikebukuro (possibly the world), invited to join a colorless color gang, shown the dark shadow abyss of a headless woman, and attacked by multiple possessed demon people...but he didn't even know about all of that! What could have possibly changed his mind?

Worse than that, what could you possibly do about it? You had never disobeyed him--you never had a reason to. He had always been so charitable and kind and generous, you practically idolized him. Sighing, you roll over onto your back. You would have to leave your friends, not telling them anything. You could only imagine how worried they'd be if you just disappeared. Did this mean you couldn't contact them afterward? That you would never interact with them ever again?

It wasn't fair. Less fair than losing your memory, less fair than almost being murdered by a red-eyed zombie mob.

...but you just couldn't disobey your father.

...

"So, what happened to a day in?" You smile at Saburo's question. So Erika had been relaying your messages to the rest of the gang after all.

"I thought I'd be sleeping the day away, but after an hour I got so restless, I couldn't even stay laying down! Guess I'm just not the nocturnal type." You were all leaned up against the van, enjoying your lunches. You sat cross-legged between Walker and Erika, while Saburo and Kyohei remained standing. The last thing you wanted to do was sit around all day, dreading the moment you would have to board a plane and leave the life you had made behind. Your friends would know the last time they saw you as the night some possessed man tried to stab you.

A flurry of different sounds reaches your ears. A chime, a short jingle, a deep vibration...a high pitched girl's voice? As your friends all look down at their phones, you realize that it had been their ringtones. A vibration in your pocket alerts you of your own device. Your friends don't miss how you've joined them in checking your phone and, exchanging looks with each other, decide to ignore it in favor of the importance of the message they had all apparently received.

"This guy...he's like--the leader of the Dollars, right?" Walker questions from beside you.

admin@dollars: Seeking information on the Slasher.

It was a simple, short request, but to everyone who saw it, it carried great weight. Whoever the leader, the creator of this entire gang, was, they were seeking out the Slasher. If they did find it, there was bound to be some type of battle. Was there really one person responsible, though? After all, it had been a mob of people last night, and even those people didn't seem to understand what they were doing after their eyes went back to normal. It was almost as if it was some sort of supernatural force, not one sole being--and somehow, that supernatural force was trying to put Shizuo--and you--under its control.

How would it do that, though? All it seemed to be trying to do was slash you both to pieces! That didn't make sense if they wanted you on their side, did it? Now that you thought about it...none of the Slasher's victims died, did they? Mr. Niekawa, the three girls from Raira...they simply came back but possessed. Did the Slasher possess people by attacking them? That wouldn't make sense...you know people, two people in particular who were cut by the Slasher and came out just fine. One of them was basically a superhuman with extraordinary capabilities, and the other... was just a normal little high school girl...

You feel a nudge on your shoulder. Erika, the culprit, has a look in her eye that you can't discern. Realizing that you had zoned out for a bit, you force a smile back onto your face. "Hey, you guys have a bunch of copies of that manga left, right? Super Tragic High School Life?" The intensity of her gaze dissipates in seconds as if it had never been there.

"Oh, yeah! Turns out that store didn't have the special edition. Some guy in Shinjuku got it," she explains. Walker is practically steaming at the ears, his face going red. "What a waste," he murmurs indignantly.

"Any way I could borrow a copy or two? I'm interested in reading it."

"Of course! They're not in the trunk anymore, though. We'd have to go back to my place to get them," Walker says.

"Oh, that's fine. In fact, you can drop them off at my apartment the next time you're in the area. It'll get to me eventually."

You don't notice how Kyohei's eyes narrowed at the odd wording of your statement. The pair are excited by your interest, providing you with some background on the series. They're not very good at avoiding spoilers, but you don't mind. When their explanation ends, you turn your attention to Saburo, asking what his favorite songs from Ruri Hijiribe were.

"Wha- you can't just ask me that and expect an immediate answer! Gimme until tonight to look through her discography and I'll give you an answer by midnight--maybe later."

Your laughter is louder than you usually allow it to be, almost as if you're forcing it. This was a happy, lighthearted moment with your friends, you told yourself. Sighing, you don't realize how your head has fallen onto Walker's shoulder. "I can wait," you muse, grinning.

...

It was odd, being the only one out of the two of you to actually drink the tea in your hands. However, the basically decapitated body in front of you was even odder. Celty sat across from you, hands neatly tucked into her lap. You don't know why you expected some sort of gory mess where her neck and head would be attached, but the simple black stream of mist wafting out was certainly a better sight. The top of her bodysuit is partially unzipped, revealing her ghostly pale skin. Looking at her was a surreal experience itself, yet here you were, having a conversation with her. "So, you live here with Shinra? Are you guys good friends?"

The wriggling of her shoulders as she twiddles her thumbs tells you otherwise. "Actually, he's my fiance. We're partners."

You squeal in excitement. That was so cute!! Celty, the dark, daredevil of a woman was going to marry a friendly, nerdy Shinra. Unconventional pairs had always been your favorite. Heartened by the news, you ask her all sorts of questions. How long had they known each other, how long had they been engaged, did they know when the ceremony was going to be, what were their plans for the wedding? It was against your better judgment to pry so much, but Celty didn't seem perturbed at all, answering all of your questions to the best of her ability.

You're not surprised by her apparent immortality, considering she is a woman walking around without a head. She had known Shinra since he was a young boy. That part was a little odd to you, but she clarified that she hadn't had any sort of interest in him until he was an adult. It seemed as though she hadn't thought much about an actual ceremony, leaving those plans to Shinra. The way she talks about him, it's obvious that he's impossibly whipped for her. You smile into your tea, imagining the calm and collected doctor who you had met long ago blushing and pampering his lovely headless wife. "But hey, whatever it is, how would you feel about being apart of it?"

You almost spit out your tea after reading her message. "R-Really!? You're sure about that?"

"Yeah! You're supposed to include your friends, right? Maybe you can even help me pick out dresses, since you know about that stuff."

You're over the moon, already picturing the event. However big or small it ended up being, it would be an honor to be a part of something so special. Celty would look absolutely stunning in a dark gown--no white, it wouldn't be staying true to her character--with gold accents. Maybe Shinra would be the one in white. Maybe bridesmaids would be in gold dresses? Something that matched her helmet. Celty respectfully listens as you express these thoughts. However, your rant stops abruptly.

"Is something wrong? You stopped kind of suddenly there."

"No, it's nothing! I just remembered that I....um..."

I'm not going to be there for your wedding.

It feels as though every ounce of glee that was in your body had dissipated in a matter of seconds. You wouldn't be there to help Celty with her dress or see her walk down the aisle. You'd be gone, with no one knowing what happened to you. Your fingers tighten their grip on the teacup. It occurs to you that you both have been sitting in silence. "...I'm worried I may forget all of this!! Maybe we should write it down somewhere." Celty leaves her position on the couch, motioning for you to follow her. She leads you to a smaller room with a desk and computer. You stand behind her and she pulls up a notepad window, typing something onto it.

"Good idea. I'm definitely going to need your guidance."

I'll do my best, Celty.

...

Shizuo's bartender uniforms held a great significance to him, that he had made clear from very early on. It was sweet, how he wanted to show his appreciation for his brother's generosity. After all, it would have been a shame for all of those uniform sets to go to waste after he had been fired from that job. But god... you would pay millions to see him wear literally anything else!

"Anything here that catches your eye? Remember, price isn't an issue--it's technically part of my studies, so Father won't mind if I splurge a little bit."

You could really go all out here--put him in a fitted pant, add a fit-ribbed turtle-neck, throw on a nice peacoat--but you worried that if you took it too far out of his comfort zone, it would just collect dust in his closet. Shizuo eyes the displays of clothes surrounding him, haphazardly perusing different racks before moving to the next one. Honestly...he looks lost...but things like this take time. "How about you pick out something? You'd know way more about this than me," he finally says. You take delight in the fact that he trusts you so much. This fact is lost on Shizuo however, who is pretty unsettled by the intense stare you're giving him right now. In reality, you're sizing him up, taking note of his body type and which traits to maximize or minimize. You briefly wonder how someone so strong could still have so lithe of a body.

His unease is worsened by the dangerous smile you give him. "Okay, just remember you asked for this," you chide, already escaping into the depths of the store in search of a perfect ensemble.

As curious as you were to see Shizuo in something soft and flowery, you had to give him something he could wear to work. That meant upping the intimidation factor. Something fitted would definitely emphasize the sturdiness of his frame. If you were to add some layering, you could make him appear bulkier. For the sake of change and novelty, black and white would be a no-no. Some pops of color wouldn't hurt him. You're handing him a set of clothing and ushering him to a dressing room in a matter of five minutes.

"This is one outfit?? You gave me like three shirts," he calls to you.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's a button-up, a sweater, and a jacket--and yes, you do put it on in that order!"

His sigh is audible, but other than that, he puts on the clothes without any other complaints. It takes him longer to put it on than it did for you to find it, but you're patient with the man. After a lot of shuffling, grunting, and cursing, your friend finally emerges. You have to hold back your squeal in the quiet store. Even in the disheveled state that he had put it on, the outfit was already doing wonders for him. "You look so good!! Well, don't just stand there--come here, I want you to see a few things!" You're speaking to him as if drawing a small child from his hiding spot, bringing him over to a mirror. You remove his jacket, temporarily draping it over your arm.

He had tucked in the button up, which was good, you tell him, but the sweater was meant to be tucked too. After he complies, you tug at the material around his waist, loosening the sweater and giving it a little room to billow. "It's very lightweight material, so it won't get too hot or bulky," you explain, tugging at the fabric on his shoulders as well. It was a professional combination that he could easily sport at work, and the fit of it accentuated the broadness of his shoulders, you added. It's lost on you how flustered he is by the bold contact.

"I wanted to show you the effects of the ensemble without the jacket, since it's getting warmer and you won't need it pretty soon. Which is a shame because this..." You hold the jacket open as a gesture for him to put it on. "...is the icing on top of the cake!" The dark violet, velvety corduroy jacket was perhaps your best find ever. It was a more casual aspect of the otherwise professional look, perfect for when he was off the job. Really, you just couldn't resist putting some color on him.

"You really put a lot of thought into this, huh? Didn't take you long either." Shizuo's eyes meet yours through the mirror. Even with his eyes covered, you can't help but feel as though he's thinking about something. You decided not to bother him about his sunglasses tonight, even though they kind of clash with the look but it's fine no worries not a big deal. "Well, yeah, of course! Not like I haven't thought about it before." A second passes before you realize the implications of your statement. "Like, what clothes you would look good in!! Whenever I meet someone, I can't help but dress them up in my head." One of his eyebrows raise. "Not in a weird way!! Of course, not in a weird way....just....do you like it??"

His gaze returns to his own form, scanning up and down the clothing. You watch with bated breath, gauging his reaction. You barely see the beginnings of a smile at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I do." You can hear a stadium of fans in your head, cheering and celebrating. Before he can say anything else, you're practically dragging him to the cashier to pay for it--with him still wearing it. You won't let him even sneak a peek at the receipt, not even after he's put on his normal clothes.

"Are you sure that you're okay with buying me those clothes?" he asks one more time as you leave the store.

"Absolutely sure. I want you to have those, Shizuo." To remember me by. "Consider it my special gift to you!"

He doesn't argue further, only smiling and shaking his head at your persistence. You would definitely miss that smile.

...

"Hey, thanks for waiting , you guys! I know it's been a long school week. You must be tired." You sat next to Mikado and Masaomi at the bar area of Russia's Sushi, waving Denis over. "Get whatever you want. My treat."

Mikado, as expected, is reluctant to mooch off of your funds, still selecting a measly, cheaper dish. Masaomi teases him, encouraging him to truly appreciate your generosity. Despite this, you notice that he chooses one of the cheaper options as well. Guess they're just conditioned that way.

"So, what did you want to meet us for?" Mikado asks as Denis goes off to prepare your order. You hum at him, your brow raising in question. "I mean, you asked us to meet with you, kind of out of the blue. Is something wrong?"

"I can't ask my friends to hang out?" Mikado's cheeks flush, his eyes going wide as he waves his hands in some sort of apologetic gesture.

"WHAT no, I'm not saying that at all! I just figured with your incident last night, you were asking for help with something! Plus, I never thought you'd considered us as friends--not that there's anything wrong with that I'm glad to be your friend and I'm sure that Masaomi is too, I mean the age difference is a little strange but--"

"Mikado, chill out, you're gonna blow a gasket." It's funny how the boys served as such obvious foils to one another. Usually, it was Mikado having to reel Masaomi back in, but it looks like the blonde is capable of returning the favor. You shake your head, twirling your finger around the rim of your water glass. "I just wanted to hang with you guys. I'm sad Anri couldn't be here, but I'm gonna visit her later."

"What incident is Mikado talking about?" Masaomi asks. He sounds nonchalant about the matter, but there's a solemnity in his gaze that surprises you. "Oh yeah, you weren't there when I told Anri and Mikado. I had my own encounter with the Slasher last night. A bunch of them, in fact. I was luckier than Anri, though."

"There was a surge of attacks last night, wasn't there? Not to mention, a bunch of people woke up in certain locations with no memory of how they got there..." Mikado reflected Masaomi's serious demeanor, rubbing his chin in thought. The air is grimmer than you'd like it to be. "But hey, I'm alright now! Looking back on it, it was all pretty cool," you try to lighten the mood, picking up your glass and jovially clinking it against Mikado's, "to living!" Mikado smiles at you halfheartedly, making an obvious effort to cheer up. Masaomi, however, eats it up, raising his glass and sloppily clinking it against yours.

After Denis returns with your food, you all dig in happily. You were quite the hypocrite. Even after changing subjects from the Slasher, you couldn't stop thinking about it yourself. Nor could you stop pondering the mass forum message you had received earlier that day. What would happen if the leader of the Dollars went head to head with the Slasher...?

"Hey, Masaomi, you kind of disappeared this morning. Where'd you run off to...?" you ask, forcing the thoughts away. Masaomi doesn't meet your gaze, toying with the remaining morsels of food on his tray. "Oh, just had to pay a visit to someone, is all."

Was it just you, or were both of these young men being super cryptic for no reason? Maybe it was a thing for teenage boys to brood on a regular basis, puberty and all that. Still, it was out of character for Masaomi to act so...somberly. Even when he was joking around, there was still something so subdued about him. Poor kid, what happened to Anri must have done a number on him.

For the rest of the night, you take it upon yourself to maintain a light atmosphere. You ask them about their studies and classes at school. In a city like this, it's hard to imagine that there were students here who had to carry out a daily schedule and focus on schoolwork. Having them talk about school lifts their spirits, you notice, giving them something mundane and lighthearted to focus on.

It gets even closer to closing, as well as the time of your flight, so you have to say good night to the pair. If you moved fast enough, you could still pay Anri a visit, since she had returned back home from the hospital. You heave a sigh as you watch the boys walk away, trying to will away the apprehension welling up in your chest. "Sighing is sign of sadness. Something wrong?" Simon's voice startles you. Looks like he had returned to his flier distribution post.

"Oh! Hey, Simon! No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking." Your smiling muscles had grown too tired over the course of the day, giving away the falsehood of your greeting. Simon, however, is exerting enough smiling strength for both of you.

"That so? I find myself thinking all the time! So I can tell--just by look on person's face--when their thoughts make them sad."

I can see right through your lies is what he's basically saying. Looking up at Simon, you can't help but think that the man is a walking oxymoron. He was always smiling and friendly, yet his large frame made him intimidating--on the other hand, his presence right now brought you an odd sense of comfort. It was the same way you had felt the first time you met him: like he was the one person who, no matter what, you could definitely go to in your time of need. Could this be one of those times?

"I was thinking about how when I--if I ever had to leave this place...how much I'd miss everything and everybody," you confess. It's freeing, being able to voice your concerns. Technically, you weren't revealing anything that you weren't supposed to. Simon wordlessly opens the door to his restaurant, ushering you back inside. It was only a couple minutes after closing, and Denis was still at the bar, wiping down countertops. Your eyes meet for a moment before he simply nods in acknowledgment and returns to his work. Simon gestures for you to sit at the bar and you comply. He leaves you there, disappearing through the door leading to what you presume to be the kitchen.

After a moment, he returns, holding a cup of steaming hot tea. You recognize it as the same tea you regularly enjoyed with the van gang. The tension in your shoulders seems to wash away as you take a long sip of the steaming liquid. The others always complained about it being painfully hot, but you found the heat to be pleasant. Taking a break from the tea, you watch as Simon hums and taps his chin, obviously pondering something. After a moment, he has a noticeable epiphany, snapping his fingers in a 'eureka' moment. Pointing at you, he excitedly imparts his own words of wisdom.

"Never leave!"

You can only continue to stare at him, your blinking lids suddenly feeling heavier as you process what he had said. Never leave...? Your chuckle sounds more bitter than you intend it to be. "Of course, if it worked that way, I wouldn't ever leave, Simon--but there's going to be a time where I have to."

"Yes, of course, there may be time when you want to leave, but you just wait for that time to come!" You don't know if it's the language barrier or the sheer naivete of the statement, but you are thoroughly confused. You look over at Denis, who returns your gaze. However, he only shrugs and continues cleaning.

"W-Well, that'd be nice if I had the choice but--there are other factors...there are reasons...why I would have to leave." It's very hard to explain without sharing too much. At this point, it was becoming a little too obvious that this situation wasn't entirely hypothetical. Simon's smile suddenly drops. He doesn't look angry or discontented per se, but he talks slowly, his next words carrying a great weight.

"Other factors is correct--but nothing can force you--not if you don't want to."

You have no response to that. No rebuttal or explanation for how that was obviously not the right answer. You could only sit there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He was telling you to disobey your father. Not word for word, but that was the advice he was giving you. To go against Father's wishes--that would be ridiculous. Of course, he couldn't force you, but he never would! He had done so much for you, always holding your best interest at heart.

"Only you know what's best for you." The voice is foreign and you look around the room to find where it came from. You're surprised to find that it was the usually silent Denis. His gaze is the same, stern and tired, but it's trained so intently on you in a way it had never been before. "Others may think they know what's best, or act like they know what's best, but you're the only one who can truly make that decision."

His Japanese was clearer than Simon's. You wonder what time he had to practice, considering he had rarely spoken as far as you knew. Your gaze switched between the two of them, noting how they seemed to have the same opinion on the matter. It was a really headstrong conclusion to make: no one, not even your father, had the right to force you out of something that was good for you. All you had been taught growing up was to be obedient and respectful, namely to your father. When he told you to do something, anything otherwise hadn't even been considered an option. In fact, you don't recall ever receiving any form of punishment.

Maybe...just this once...he would be understanding? He was always so kind to you...he would respect your wishes, wouldn't he? If you explained how much this city meant to you--and you were willing to compromise! Maybe if you left for a brief period and came back, or if you could at least keep in contact with your friends and let them know where you were. You felt as though a physical weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. The whole day, you had felt so hopeless, but there was hope! All you had to do was speak up for yourself a little bit!

When you try to pay for the tea before leaving, Simon refuses the payment, claiming that it was a "Regular's Special" or something. Choosing not to argue, you thank the two men and say your goodbyes. As you walk through the plaza, you can't help but notice how much emptier it is than normal. People must have decided to stay indoors in response to all of the Slasher attacks. Due to the prolonged time spent at Russia's Sushi, you were cutting it a little close between your visit to Anri's and the boarding time for your flight.

If you called him right now, would he let you miss the flight? Would you be able to head to Anri's, tell the whole funny story, and laugh it off? Would you be able to stay here longer? You stare at your phone in your hand, dreading the moment you would have to press that 'call' button. Father had never been angry with you. The way he had spoken this morning was truly the shortest he had ever been. Perhaps he was just in a bad mood at the time. Now that he'd had the whole day to wake up, he'd be more pleasant, like he always was. He would understand. He would understand. He would understand.

"Dr. Brigall speaking."

You had called him without even realizing it. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you raise the phone to your ear.

"F-Father! This is (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," you swear you could hear a sigh, but it could have just been background noise. "Something the matter? The time to board your flight is approaching. On your way to the airport, I presume?"

"N-No, not ye--no, I'm not." Trying to correctly place your words is excruciating and your stuttering all over the place. You had hoped he would've returned to his warmer demeanor, but it was actually making the deed harder.

"Well, why would that be? Punctuality is very important, you wouldn't want to keep everyone on the plane waiting, would you?"

"Father, I've had such a great time here. I've made so many friends and already progressed so much in my studies!"

"That's great to hear. I'm glad you benefited from this in some way before you had to return home." You realize that he's not getting the point; that you would have to state it explicitly.

"Exactly! So...imagine how much I could benefit from staying here the whole year, like we had originally planned!"

"...(Y/N), I hope you're not trying to do what I think you're doing. I thought I made myself very clear this morning. You are going to be on that flight." You can already hear how his tone is starting to shift, mimicking that same strict attitude from this morning.

"I-I understand that you think this is what's best for me, but I think this is what's best for me! Staying here, and building more relationships, and--" Now that you've started, you can't stop. You could convince him, you could make him understand.

"(Y/N), I won't repeat myself--"

"--and developing my studies and--!"

"YOUNG LADY, YOU WILL OBEY ME THIS INSTANT!"

All the breath seems to leave your body. Had your grip on your phone not tightened, you almost would have dropped it. You stand alone, under the illumination of a single streetlight. Father had raised his voice at you. He had gotten angry at you so quickly. The way your throat clenches, it feels as though you're choking on air. Your father is silent, save for the sound of labored breathing. It seems as though neither of you could muster up something to say.

"...(Y/N)?" "Y-yes, sir?" "I'm sorry...head back to the apartment, okay?" Your previously stopped heart begins to beat again as you understand the implications of his statement. The apartment, not the airport. "You've grown up so much, I trust you to make the right choices for yourself."

So immediately after his outburst, the change in tone gave you whiplash. His voice is tender, the way he always speaks to you, but it wasn't anywhere near as comforting. Had it just been a moment of a lost temper? He says 'I love you' and you're still too choked up to answer. After a pause, there's a click and a monotone, signaling that he hung up.

Your hand falls from your ear to your side, keeping a limp grip on the phone. You lean against the stone wall beside you in an attempt to recompose yourself. It had worked, you guess, he had allowed you to stay. That didn't stop your mind from reeling at the sheer animosity that had taken over his voice. It was hostile, almost animalistic how he had yelled.

Scanning your surroundings, you realize that you had strayed far off of your path. The phone call must have distracted you so much, you began to wander aimlessly. You let out a tired sigh, beginning to type your address into your GPS.

"Well, well, well, boys! Looks like we've got a stray kitten here, all alone!"

The voice is masculine, and forcibly so--like that of a high schooler trying to deepen his timbre. You're afraid to look up from your phone. You mentally weighed the possibility of them talking about an actual kitten--or at least just leaving you alone if you ignored them. However, the sound of metal tapping against the wall you were leaning on, inches from your head no less, dispelled every bit of that possibility.

There are three of them, all varying in body shapes. It was almost comedic how drastically they contrasted one another in height, size, and even hair color. One trait that united them, however, were the bright accents of yellow decorating each of their persons. Gang members. The source of the tapping, you notice, was the metal crowbar in the hands of the shortest member. He's sneering at you in a predatory manner that makes you want to go take a shower. The one who had been talking wasn't him, but the lean blonde. He's way older than his voice implies. He couldn't have been that much older than you, but his jagged features and sunken eyes did little to boost his youth.

He stands closest to you, eyes scanning your frame. You say nothing, cautiously awaiting whatever it is that they wanted from you. In response to your silence, the blonde grunts in confusion, his smirk falling. "What, nothing to say? Eh, that's alright. I'll do most of the talking."

You absolutely despised how much he was invading your personal space. The sensation of his breath fanning against your skin had you clenching your fists. You're only half-listening to what he's saying, zeroing in on the two men behind him in hopes of finding a way out.

"...and no need to introduce yourself. I know exactly who you are...I gotta say, Heiwajima's got pretty good taste in women." At that, your focus snaps back to him immediately. What on earth did he mean by that?

"Yo Horada, you sure about this? That dude's gonna be pissed if we fuck with his girl." The tallest of them, a brawny, tan man whispers into 'Horada's' ear. He didn't do that good of a job of keeping his voice down, though. Horada swats the man's face with the back of his hand.

"Ah, shuddup, willya? That's the point. We throw his girl around a little bit, give 'er a couple of scars. Then he and that pansy colorless gang get the message not to fuck with us."

Your ears are ringing at the word 'scars'. Just what did they want to do to you? Did they really think that you were in a relationship with Shizuo? What did this have to do with the Dollars? A calloused hand runs across your cheek and cradles your chin, mockingly affectionate. You hadn't thought it to be possible, but Horada is even closer now, forcing you to turn your head to the side in an attempt to avoid him.

"'Sides, what kind of man leaves his chick all alone like this? Poor baby, maybe you need a real man to protect ya. Damn, I've always wondered what it's like to be with a forei--!"

You had never punched anyone in your life. As malicious as it sounded, after watching people do it on TV and seeing Shizuo in the act numerous times, you always had an itching inclination to try it. The way he was forcing himself closer to you, saying such awful things, sent that inclination boiling over the edge. Despite being out of practice, the clean contact between your knuckles and his face was immensely satisfying.

His head reels to the side at the force, followed by his neck, his shoulders, his upper body...his legs...his feet...there he goes.

You're shocked at the sight of his entire body flying a few inches. His friends are the same, staring at his crumpled body with gaping mouths. Taking their distraction as an opportunity, you start to book it. However, a large, clammy hand grabs your elbow. You're pulled back into a large, bulky body and you know that it's the tan man. Fight or flight taking over, you reel your free arm forward before elbowing him straight in the ribs. It's a foolish attempt, considering how strong he must be. Your elbow comes in contact with his firm, sturdy torso--and you can feel something snap. Your elbow continues to dig, jabbing into him with little resistance. He let's out a deep grunt and curses.

The grip on your arm loosens. Before you make a break for it, however, you're distracted by the man's coughing fit. He stumbles backward, cradling his chest. After one particularly hard cough, a splash of red appears on the pavement beneath him. Was that....blood...?

It was just you and the man with the crowbar, now, both of you staring at the disarmed forms of the two men. The blonde wasn't moving, most likely unconscious, and it seemed that the tan man was on the way there. Did these guys have health problems or something? Why were they so weak to your feeble attacks?

"You bitch!" The remaining member snaps out of it, waving his crowbar at you threateningly. By the time you've pulled yourself from your thoughts, he's lunging at you. Practically teleporting closer to you in flashes. Your body tenses, scrambling for some sort of counter to the attack, but you're thinking too slowly. The crowbar swings closer and closer to your face, headed for a possibly fatal collision.

However painful that would have been, the sound of metal screeching against metal is pretty excruciating too. The crowbar is suspended in the air, mere centimeters from your face. The one thing keeping it from knocking you out was...a blade? The short man's arms trembled, contrasting the calm, steady hand that brandished the knife.

Your knees give out, sending you falling to the ground. The crowbar clatters to the ground in front of you, discarded by its wielder. You watch as he stumbles away, leaving the other incapacitated members of his posse behind.

"Looks like you've made quite the commotion." The low voice is muffled to your ears, like a phone call cutting in and out. You muster up the effort to look at the person standing above you, your strength rapidly depleting.

It was that same off-putting smile he had worn the first time you saw him. Eyes narrowed, focused so obviously on you that you knew he couldn't have been looking at anyone else. Seeing such a mischievous expression up close, you can't help but remember a familiar face.

That young twin with the glasses, the one who had said such outrageous, perverted things, had smiled at you the same way.

"Do you...by any chance... have a sis..." Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, just like the rest of your body. You were suddenly so tired.... Technically, it had been a good 48 hours since you had a normal night of sleep. All you can do is watch as your vision flickers out, trained on the darkly dressed, smiling man above you.

That coat did look even nicer up close.

#durarara #durarara x reader #drrr x reader #shizuo heiwajima #shizuo heiwajima x reader #celty sturluson #herculean #kyohei kadota x reader #walker yumasaki x reader #saburo togusa x reader #izaya orihara

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spotlightstudios · 2 years

Text

"ABNORMAL ENTITY BEHAVIOR" (Part II)

->Word Count: 4,219

->Part 1: Here

->Eclipse × Reader Story (Space/Deep-sea AU)

->Notes: Hope y'all enjoy, and that this makes even the slightest bit of sense! (Also, no proofreading was done here, so if anything doesn't make sense, that's why lmao-)

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There was something so inexplicably incorrect about waking up. You hadn't dreamt, which was extremely strange. You usually dreamt every night. Something in the back of your mind was sure that the peace and quiet, the darkness that you were groggily awaking to, was what awaited you after death. Surely your plan had worked.

Your plan… That was right. The Eel hadn't gotten the chance to eat you, but that other thing? The entity? Yeah. It'd scooped you up in its huge palms and you'd blacked out. It was cold, you'd inhaled so much water by then. It definitely ate you, and you'd successfully gotten rid of all evidence of your existence. Good job, you!

Then you opened your eyes.

Everything was blurry, and you felt trapped. It was worse than anything you'd felt before. Something soft and warm was encasing your entire body, and for a horrifying few moments, the idea crossed your mind that you were still being digested.

In a panic, you shoved yourself upright and gasped for air. You nearly choked. You had to lean to the side, coughing violently as air began to repopulate your lungs. The substance that the air replaced, which you were actively coughing up beside you, had the consistency of jello, and the fluidity of water. Disgusting, to put it mildly.

It only took a minute or so to rid your system of the substance, but it left you trembling, gasping for air and clutching your shirt as you caught your breath.

"Oh…" you muttered wearily, looking down at yourself now. Your diving suit was gone, the whole thing missing. You were left in your body suit, waterproof and form-fitting from your neck to your ankles, and the thin cloth shirt you liked to wear for extra warmth when diving deeper than usual. Your skin was soft, like it'd been soaked in water for too long, fingertips pruned.

It seemed like the substance you'd coughed up wasn't all of it either. Based on how a large amount of it still clung to your legs, back, and hair? Well, you figured you'd probably been completely encased in the substance. You had been the one to free yourself, the remains of a goop-cocoon spilling over an edge you hadn't noticed prior, onto a darkened floor below. Now you could hear the dripping sound it made.

You grimaced. This stuff, while it was a beautiful sunset color, had been inside your lungs just a few minutes ago. It'd probably been the reason you hadn't drowned…

Shit! You were still alive. There were no colonies on the planet, and the only contact you'd had was with your pursuers. Based on the circumstances, you were caught and revived. You were the prisoner now, exactly what you were trying so hard to avoid all this time!

The squelching noises weren't the most pleasant sound you'd ever heard. You winced, shifting your limbs towards the edge.

You'd assessed that you were in a large room, similar to something of a medical study hall. You'd been laid on a medical bed, with all sorts of tools and seats scattered around the edges of the room with counters and shelves.

Now, your priority was to move. It pained you to hear the gross squish as the cocoon splashed to the ground beside you. Your feet touched down merely a second later, and you sprang away from the squishy lump with a yelp, steadying yourself further off from it. The tiles were cold, and you were pretty soggy. Goop still stuck to your hair and clothes, but you weren't worried about it. It wasn't like you hadn't been messy with your work before, after all.

Your work. Right. Focus, focus! You scolded in your head, trying to regain your train of thought. Find a weapon. Escape. That was your genius plan.

It wasn't hard in the dimly lit room. A set of electric lights flickered gently far above your head, so the cold tiles and countertops were illuminated just enough for you to see. You moved over to the nearest counter, scanning contents as you ran your hand along the freezing counter. Everything was so cold here, you were surprised you couldn't see your own breath yet.

You saw all sorts of things. Mostly, they were small, blunt tools. A few of them resembled wrenches or pliers, a few scalpels caught your eye, but you ghosted past them. Scalpels wouldn't pierce the armor of a hardened warrior, they were meant for soft flesh. No good to you right now. You were cursing your luck, coming up on the end of that counter's worth when you glanced back. The second-to-last item was something you were rather familiar with.

As you scooped it up, the weight felt nice in your hand. So did the hum it emitted as you flicked a small switch towards the base of the handle. Jackpot! You thought. The small metal device you'd just acquired? A decent sized soldering iron that still held power to it. This was industrial grade too. If push came to shove, you could pierce armor and stick the people hidden within without doing anything fatal.

The grin that spread to your face wasn't exactly genuine, no, you might die soon still. However, your plan to fight back definitely wouldn't go unnoticed by the task force. Maybe they'd learn not to leave criminals alone in rooms with potential weapons.

You paused, glancing back. That sunset-colored cocoon still lay unmoving on the floor. You'd dropped a few chunks along the way, but none of it had moved on its own. The room itself still felt odd to you. Maybe they thought you'd been dead? (Of course, maybe you had been.) Couldn't read your vitals through the goop, and you doubted you'd been breathing. Had they planned to study the substance you were encased in before they took you in for your crimes? It didn't make much sense.

It didn't matter. Not now, at least. Not while you were still alive and in-tact and they could get proof of what you'd done straight from the source.

You shook your head, another piece of goop sliding off and splatting against the tile below. You ignored it, making your way to the nearest exit, a set of double doors that no doubt led into the rest of the ship. There was a pad to the side, but you just pressed your palm against the doors, hoping beyond all odds that they happened to just be unlocked.

…The universe was humoring your fantasies today, because the door you pushed against gave way without even so much as a creak of the hinges. In a split second, you and your trusty soldering iron were into the hall past the door and setting off for a new, unknown destination.

The first place you came across that wasn't dimly lit seemed to be a room full of, what looked like, samples. Jars, containment pods, domes, all full of components. The room itself was small like a storage closet, and had the same white metal and tile that the halls, and room you awoke in, had contained. It had shelves along the outer walls, and two large ones in the center. There was another door across from you, easy to slip through, but you dipped to the side out of curiosity.

This place looked like it hadn't been touched in months. At least, long enough that your damp feet were leaving footprints in the dusty floor, and the containers were either fogged or dusty as the rest of the shelves. You scanned the contents, looking for anything that might help you.

Poison, poison, poison, seaweeds, poison, fish, creature larvae, algae, shark gills, polyps, another poison… damn. It looked like this vessel really liked collecting poisons. Granted, half the wildlife on the planet was poisonous to the touch, but still! You weren't staying long enough to want to poison someone. C'mon…

You swapped to the other shelf, getting the sinking suspicion that someone might notice you were gone soon. You hadn't exactly covering up your trail after all. Most of the contents were the same. An eyeball in a jar of solution floated beside a few feathers in a thin case, and beside them sat- wait!

You scooped up the thing. It was two little vials, and to anyone else it might've just looked like food coloring. It wasn't just that. It was derived from the smallest squids on the planet, their ink. When it rises to the surface and hits open air, it's like an explosion of colored mist. Not harmful or dangerous, but you remembered the time you'd captured a few and they'd painted the inside of your lab as though it'd been caught in a paintball battle. You swore you were still finding spots that you'd missed, still bathed in color and proudly shining still.

Or, you had. You'd sunk your ship, let it crumble and break in the ocean.

Stop, no. Later. You told yourself. The two vials fit well into the space between your suit and your neck as you gently peeled it away and placed them there. The soldering iron was now glowing with warmth as you held it closer to yourself. You'd been stalling, to make sure your best weapon wasn't going to be entirely useless. Now though, it was all charged up. No more hiding out of the public eye.

You stepped up to the next set of doors, and shoved them open with little regard.

The other side revealed a hallway. It was, unlike the room you just stepped out of, brightly lit. The tiled floors and metal walls seemed a lot cleaner, more tidy and well-kept. Obviously they'd put you in some backroom storage lab. At this point, you were trying to decide whether you really were top priority or not. Who just leaves their criminal in a back room to escape??

Then again, you'd already reasoned that they probably thought you were dead.

The thoughts left your mind as easily as they'd arrived, because you heard fucking voices. Down the hall, to your right, they were approaching quickly.

You could duck back in, or you could make a run for it, or- or- "Fuck this!" You were cursing yourself as you shoved away from the doors and sprinted for the other hall. You really hoped the sound of your feet pattering against the tile wasn't loud enough for them to hear over their own voices.

As you rounded the corner, you realized it was just a long, straight hallway. Nowhere to hide. Unless, of course, you followed your gut.

In a quick movement, you'd pressed yourself into the alcove of a doorway, back flat against the wall. The soldering iron was hidden at your side, carefully shifted away from your leg. Your free hand worked to smother the sounds of your heavy breathing best it could as the sounds of voices got louder and louder.

The good news was, they didn't check on you or notice you missing. The bad news was, they were going to walk right down the hall you were very-badly hidden within.

Your heart jumped up to your throat as two people finally rounded into view. They were each speaking a language you didn't recognize, and you stared wide-eyed as they passed.

The one closer to you looked to be a stone-alien, one of the hundreds of species that existed. Specifically, they might have been made of sandstone or a similar substance. They wore no helmet, and very little armor, though the white metal of their belt gleamed in the bright light, showing off two beam guns perched on their one hip. The further one looked like an aquatic species, though it was harder to be sure because they were fully covered by pristine white armor, besides their fish-like tail. They didn't seem to be carrying a long-ranged weapon.

You realized, with a jolt, that your weapon wouldn't work on the stone alien. They were just very, very fire-resistant. Those guns would be an issue too, if they saw you.

That being said, by some miracle, they entirely missed your presence and continued moving forward down the hall. That conversation must be riveting. You thought to yourself, giving them a final glance as they got a few paces away and turning back to escape the way they'd come from.

It registered a moment too late. Your foot connected with a squishy substance on your second step, you knew in the back of your head that you'd scattered more goop chunks behind you in your initial approach. You stepped on one, and it gave way with a gross squelch. You were moving forward, backwards, you flailed your arms and just barely gripped the wall before your leg gave way and you crashed to the ground, leaning against the wall.

Damn, that hurt. Your hip throbbed, and you guessed that your joints would yell at you for the tumble later. It was lucky you'd avoided burning yourself on the iron, but you didn't avoid the notice of those guards. You were stupid!

Just a glance showed that they'd turned around, and for a moment, the three of you were dumbly staring at each other…

You sprang up, very little hesitation as you scrambled to your feet and around the corner. Their angry shouts rang out a few moments later, and you nearly fell again as it became obvious they were giving chase. The stone one must've started running, because the floor shook with heavy steps. Good God that was terror inducing. You just couldn't get caught. Not again. They'd take you alive, because that was the mandated order, but if you escaped once you doubted they'd let you get the chance again.

The halls felt like a labyrinth. You were keeping well ahead of the stone guard, but the fish was continuously catching up to you. You'd lose them, only for a sharp object to go flying past your head. You swore the only reason they hadn't caught you was because they'd always have to retrieve the object after they threw it. They only had one.

Your legs were burning, along with your lungs, after only a few minutes. You'd made 3 lefts, 4 rights, once or twice passing a sealed off window blocked with steel plating. You just wanted to know what star system you were in now. Plan an escape route once you found the pods? Now though, you still had no clue.

It seemed like you were getting closer to an exit, the halls looking even more put together. Then you saw it.

A large doorway with flaps instead of a real door. Those usually separated hangar controls from the rest of the hangar. If you could get through there, you might find more people, but you also suspected that you'd be able to steal a pod. Maybe, if you were lucky, the ship's automatic threat system would shoot you down and explode that pod. Wouldn't that be ironic for the authorities to manage? Whoops, we blew up our own last lead! Our bad! The idea would've made you grin if you weren't scheming at full power.

You shoved between the flaps of the doorway, only to nearly die. There was a guy with a gun right on the other side.

To be entirely fair, you screamed out of surprise from falling, not from the guy. That goop chose the perfect moment to drip from your leg to the underside of your foot, because your next step turned into a slide, and you practically knocked him over with the sheer force of your momentum. All you could do to not burn yourself was to catch the floor on either side of him and spring back to your feet, immediately clambering off.

He seemed… stunned, almost. You took the short moment to swipe his gun from the floor… and just in time.

The room you were in was big, and you'd holed up on a stairway leading downwards. You were cornered by at least six sizable guards, including the fish who'd caught up with you. Neither side seemed particularly willing to move, seeing as you'd shoot at them if they even moved a step closer or raised their weapons to aim. If they shot, you'd duck down out of reach just in the knick of time. One hand still held tight to the iron, the other was barely balancing the weight of the gun.

You weren't sure why, but that iron felt like your lifeline. It felt better to have something solid for close-quarters fighting. Yeah. That was it.

Regardless, it was a standstill, and you could see more guards were entering the room, joining the crowd.

And then you got shot. At first it felt like a little sting, like a bug bite, but the pain flared through your entire arm a moment later. One stolen glance revealed the glean of armor from below the staircase. "Surrender now! We don't want to hurt you!" One of the guard members shouted from down the stairs. You stared at them, before grimacing. "I bet you don't! Bossman upstairs won't be happy if I get too damaged, will he?" You shouted back, before chucking the gun held in your injured arm down the stairs.

On instinct, the guards shot it mid-air. It exploded into chunks, and the rush of boots from above signaled that this was the moment.

You bit your tongue, using your injured arm to tug one of those vials you'd grabbed out of your suit. The confusion had nearly settled by the time you held it aloft. It returned when you shattered the vial against the step and scrambled upwards.

It felt like you ran with the edge of the red mist as it expanded rapidly up and down the steps. There were shouts of alarm from both levels, and with the slow reactions, upstairs was your best bet of escape. The mist, as planned, traveled to cover quite a lot of space, giving you a wise array of escape options. The doorways and outlines of people were all shadowed as you squinted, and you spun to get towards the one furthest from the pack.

Your escape was flawless. You ducked into the hallway as shouts of confusion and frustration echoed behind you in the open chamber.

The hall on the other side was actually brighter than the others had been. You didn't give yourself any chance to breathe though, charging through it to get away from the mob of guards searching for you. Once again, you were only armed with your iron, and the one last vial of squid ink. You didn't think you could fool them with the same trick twice.

That was why you entered the next big room without a second thought. It was also why you were surprised to hear a voice down the hall. Might've been the reason you froze like a deer in the headlights.

"What do you mean they got out?" A voice asked, though no steps accompanied it. It sounded like you'd walked in on a private conversation. "I'm sorry, sire. Our forces reported that they were seen last leaving the abandoned wings. They shot two of our men." A quieter voice responded, sounding less than confident. Seconds passed in silence. "That's… not good. We need to find them and contain them as soon as we can. I have questions." Ohhhh no. That sounded like the exact opposite of what you wanted.

Footsteps started up again, they sounded like they were moving towards you. You took half a step back, and bit back a scream when cold metal and silicone smothered your face. A large palm was covering your mouth, clamping your jaw shut, while an arm snaked around your waist, holding you tight against a cold metal chestplate. "Don't move, or he'll catch the both of us." A voice hissed in your ear. It sounded metallic, but the tone was weary.

You complied, letting them lift you up, feet dangling off the floor. The unknown person dragged you to the right, and you were engulfed in darkness, slipping into a walkway you knew for a fact hadn't been there a few moments ago. It was the longest few minutes of your life. You knew this wasn't someone looking to kill you or turn you in. If they were, they would've done it. This was something different.

Eventually, you emerged into a room that looked a lot like something you might've seen on your ship. A bedroom outfitted for a guest to stay. Only, you noticed the door was blocked from the inside with furniture, and everything looked and smelled damp. It was run-down and dingy.

You were set down, and you stood entirely still until the cold limbs had left you, and it sounded like your captor had taken a step away.

You spun on your heels, brandishing your iron with your good hand. To your surprise, it was pointed right at the flat faceplate of a robotic being. As it blinked at you, you felt like you'd been hit with an enormous sense of deja-vu. You couldn't place why.

"What do you want with me?" You questioned under your breath, seeing as the robot didn't move to react. His head tilted slightly, before he responded. "You survived. You made it down into the city." He replied, his voice a lot softer than you'd expected. His eyes trailed to look away from you. "You're the first person to do that in years." He said, even a bit softer than before.

It didn't answer your question though. And what city? This was getting worse by the second. "Stop being cryptic, what the hell are you talking about?" You demanded, pushing the iron a bit closer to his face. He retreated slightly, head moving without shifting his body in the slightest.

This was when he entirely disregarded your threat and shifted. He walked a few light steps over to a wall, and slid open a curtain you hadn't noticed before.

Light filtered into the room through the first porthole you'd seen that wasn't covered up. Granted, this porthole was also shattered, shards of glass spilling from the edges like little blades. You… you weren't in space at all. "Look for yourself." He said, and you couldn't resist looking. You stepped up beside his towering form.

You were looking out over an entire city. Skyscrapers and small townhouses populated the ground, you could see at least four main streets from your limited view, and countless intersecting ones running between buildings. People moved around like ants below, and it occurred to you that this wasn't a government vessel. You weren't even imprisoned. Not really. This was a civilization.

Your gaze tore from the streets upwards. It was mesmerizing. The city existed in a bubble of air, and past that, water rippled like it was dancing off the glass dome of a research tank. This city and its inhabitants were entirely submerged. "We're still on-planet?" You muttered, before speaking up. "Has this city been here the whole time?" You glanced back at the robot, and he only gave a small nod of confirmation.

"We've been trapped here for an awfully long time. All our ships were destroyed, and our diving gear is useless." He voiced. It was like he was reciting some sort of story. He must've said it often. "No one makes it in or out. Not past the guardian." You furrowed your brow at this.

He caught sight of it, and hummed in thought, before his gaze shot to the water outside the city. You nearly ducked away as a large shadowed shape skimmed the edge. The water of the dome rippled, and moments later a deep rumble echoed across the open air. "Our guardian doesn't allow travel in or out. He kills anything outside the city." He looked pointedly back at you. "Yet, he saved your life."

Nothing to say came to mind. That huge creature up there… it had to be the same entity that was always around. The same entity that had fought off the Eel. It had saved you?

Your silence was taken in stride by the robot. "My name is Moon. I believe we can help each other, newbie." The words were received by more silence. Then more. Then finally. "You'll get me out of here?" He gave a confident nod in response. It wasn't perfect, not the best situation by any means, but it was a better chance than you'd had before. You weren't caught by authorities, these people didn't know you, and you had a new plan. All you had to do was help Moon.

You nodded in agreement, telling him your name quietly. That was when he grinned. "Welcome to the team, then. Now, hold on tight." His previously calm mature disappeared for a moment. He swiped your iron from your hand before his robotic arms scooped you up by the waste and held you to his chest. You yelped and grappled for a grip with your good arm as he suddenly swung up and out of the broken port, making his way down to ground level with you secure against his chestplate.

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