#i know the name of mikey’s weapon

[thegreateggbandit]

*Me trying to convince my brother to watch ROTTMNT*

Me: So Leo gets a portal sword, Mikey gets this fire ball-on-chain-thingy,

Brother: Uh huh, makes sense I guess.

Me: Donnie keeps his tech-bo and Raph gets—

Brother: Therapy?

Me: … *ten minutes laughing hard*

Me: heheh nope!

[solannn]

Hi!! Can I request a male! reader x boten Where the reader is a waiter at their favorite restraint for gangs/mafia whatever and Mikey takes a liking to him but they find out he’s only doing the job because he’s a single father, and they want to keep him (not super good with translating my ideas sorry)- 🦇 anon

ᥫ᭡ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⤷ male reader and single father of a child named “Myrei”, she is kind, and love her father.

[Name] saw a potentially dangerous man enter the bar, with his gang members, he assumed. It was the first time they had visited the large and incredibly beautiful bar where he had worked here for several years. The boy's men probably hide a weapon in their pockets if there's a problem, most of the gangs do this, and sometimes it's just that he has a shootout because of a quarrel started by a drunk man who ends up dead. the end. [Name] thought their boss was the man with short white hair, he was short but his appearance could be deceiving, but they could also be wrong about him being a boss.

The waiter tried to concentrate on his customers, but the imposing aura of the armed men scared him. He was used to this kind of situation, but he felt like he'd seen it somewhere on his television late at night. After wondering their name its suddenly came to mind, Bonten, something like that. They were one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan, inviting prostitutes and killing them after having pleasuring time them, cruelty towards others human being, and much more. For them it was like a hobby that entertained them, but [Name] hated that kind of person. So, to protect his life he decided not to say too much that could cause a general fight.

He wanted to avoid them at all costs before his manager told him that these men were men who deserved lust and merit to flatter their immense egos, so he asked him to serve them drinks, food, and everything what they wished they had. [Name] was flattered that his presence was lustful, but he was also uncomfortable talking to them but his manager comforted him by putting his hand on his shoulder telling him. "I know how you feel, but unfortunately you are the only one qualified to talk to people at such levels." [Name] sighed, he puffed out his chest a little and thanked his comrade who had just comforted him. He walked towards the table of men, they were all different from each other, one seemed drugged to the point of stupidity, one depressed, one who was probably arrogant, one with a neutral expression and others.

“Hello gentlemen, what can we offer you today.” He asked them and made his famous smile known by his comrades or the customers who came each time. He tried to appear friendly, and pretended to be pure and innocent, he wanted them to have pity for him but they probably didn't have any, but he still tried to seduce them. He waited for their answers for a few seconds before a man with long, white hair asked him. “what is boeuf bourgignon?” he pronounced the word wrong, but with a smile [Name] answered him. "boeuf bourguignon is a dish of beef braised in red wine, and served with a garnish of pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon. It is one of the most popular dishes in France made by a French-Japanese chef." he replied, detailing the appearance of the meat and its garnish. the man nodded and said "I'll take that then." he grinned back, [Name] noted as he took out a paper and a style from his pocket to wrote it.

“I would like a dorayaki.” No, it wasn't a request but an order, he could tell the difference between that. It was simple to distinguish, he kept a smile and wrote his order. After taking their orders one added. “Get me some wine, one of the best from here.” [Name] scratched his neck, and nodded. “of course sir, everything will be in order.” he addressed them before leaving towards the restaurant counter. "Hey Boss, I'm not feeling this place. I'm not having fun." He stretched while taking another drug, to relax. "Their boss didn't say anything, he was just hungry. He glanced to his left, and saw the waiter talking on the phone with someone. He had a smile soft, and not forced when in front of him.

“Kokonoi.” He called one of his members coldly. The boy became tense, he looked at his boss and said. “Yes, sir?” Who is this waiter we saw a few minutes ago? "mhm, I think his name is [Name] Bonavich, he is 27 years old, he has been working in a bar, restaurant for a few years so that his daughter has a good education and other things. He is a single father we will say." he tells Mikey, his boss, the boy's information. Before coming here, he looked for data on the people working in this popular place.

the waiter came towards them again after about thirty minutes of discussion with their meal in hand. Their dish was quite heavy to bear but he pretended it wasn't and placed their meal on the table. “Enjoy your appetite, sir.” He smiled but before leaving, the person who wanted to avoid everything grabbed his arm to say something to him. Their members were surprised by Mikey's sudden gesture, maybe he had a deal with him and was going to kill him. [Name] stressed a little, praying that he wouldn't ask anything strange like being his prostitute or something. “Yes?” he cleared his throat at the same time.

“after i eat you will come in my car, you will be my own waiter for bonten only.” The boy with dark circles under his eyes ordered him shut, without any expression on his face. "oh! ohm..of course." His day was ruined, his daughter was probably waiting for him at home and maybe she wanted to play before going to sleep. He walked towards the bar counter and went into the break room where his friends and his manager were. "people! I'm a dead man!" He whispered, carrying his voice a little so he could hear it. “ehh why.” a girl with extravagant makeup that stood out from the criteria of the Japanese beauty standard stated it was gyaru makeup. She dyed her hair red, to stand out even more. "what are you doing darling? probably isn’t someone as coolish as me ihh" she spoke mockingly not taking the situation to heart. “Shut up Ameyru! Let him talk.” An androgynous boy told her to shut up, she did but she rolled her eyes. "you see the Bonten, they are here and their boss asked me to become their personal waiter--" Ameyru laughed.

"lol! wait what! kyaaaa... these guys are creepy if you don't do your right job you're ekkkkk" at the end of her sentence she made the zombie noise, and with her thumb she pretended to slit her throat. The manager was shocked at the revelation and didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it," he felt unable to say another word. The androgynous boy next to him put his hand on his shoulder. "Kyoru.." he whispered, making him smile a little. Ameryu stopped laughing and took it seriously. "I'm sorry too, yikes! they are the most horrendous human ya know.." she said, knowing that if he left, she would miss him immensely. "wahhh!!! it's horrible.!" she said running towards her friend and grabbed him with a hug

"I'm sad, super. Hey Ryuba you will console me right." the haired boy nodded. "I'll try if you don't break my mind," he sighed and rushed to hug his friend, Kyoru joined them too. "mhh, and to think that you've been here for 9 years, we could have reached 10 years of anniversary of you working here.. “awhh guys." [Name] was touched by their words almost having tears in his eyes. when he was released from the hug, he greeted them, perhaps for the last time and left. "Ameyru is depressed.." tears ran down her puffy cheek "ugh.."

When he returned to the room where the gang was he saw blood on the floor. Someone was eliminated, but he had not heard the sound of a gun, perhaps a knife murder. The man was a customer who was probably drunk, he walked over and noticed that Bonten had finished eating. Mikey waited patiently for the boy, he walked towards the leader without saying a word.

He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.

He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.

It was a long trip, and [name] was worried because he recognized the road he was driving on his way home. The driver stopped in front of his destination, his apartment building. His heart stopped and his eyes widened as he wondered what would happen to his child. One of the members got out of the car and went to the apartment. [Name] started to speak, but a man put a gun to his head. "He said, "If you dare say anything, I'll shoot you in the face.”He threatened to shoot him, but he quickly shut up. In the back of his mind, he sighed so as not to draw attention to himself. The minutes were long, very long, he felt as if they had stopped an hour ago. He looked out the window to his left, watching the people passing by, afraid of the car. Probably wondering if they were going to die too.

A few minutes passed and the tension grew. When one of the members returned, he had a sleeping child in his arms. He walked around the car to the left door, opened it, and handed [name] his child. He took her under his shoulders and put her on his lap. He rested his head on her chest, but a question lingered in the back of his mind: did he kill the babysitter he'd hired years ago, or was he showing compassion? Preferring not to answer, he stroked his child's head with a faint smile.

His child was sleeping peacefully, as if someone had rocked him to sleep. This made [Name] happy, but he didn't want to show it to a gang, so he decided to save his smile for his daughter. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the dejected look on the boss's face, so he quickly looked away, not wanting to see his expression. The gang began to talk among themselves, fed up with the tension caused by Mikey's pressure. The little man said nothing, remaining completely silent.

He felt a sudden urge to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy with each blink, and he put his hand over his mouth and yawned. He told himself it was late, 23 in his opinion. At 11 p.m., the lights went out in the small town and he could see people enjoying themselves with their friends. He sighed one last time, clutched his child, and fell asleep, unable to help himself.

──────

He woke up suddenly, his eyes wide open. "Is this a nightmare?" he asked himself, but no. The place he was in wasn't his home; it was too big for a one-person room. The room was almost as big as his apartment. "They're filthy rich...after all, they're a mafia..." he muttered and looked around, not seeing his child. He stood up and rushed to the door. He opened it abruptly and left the room, nothing as he stepped out onto a wide red carpeted staircase. He also had a view of the living room. "..." he didn't know what to say, amazed at the size of this mansion. He heard a child's playful cry at the bottom of the stairs. Running up and down the stairs as if his life depended on it, he looked to his left and saw Myrei, her child playing with one of the members? He wasn't sure if it was a babysitter, but it had a remarkable tattoo. He walked towards them, his daughter smiling as she saw him approach. "Daddy!!!" She couldn't help but scream.

She was so overly excited that she gave her trust to the person in front of him. A man with black hair and a huge scar on his face, [Name], glared at him while carrying his child. "I assure you, I'm not here to hurt anyone on behalf of the boss." He was admitting the truth, their boss? No, he wasn't dreaming, and he didn't seem to be lying. [Name] sighed and let go of Myrei. "Oh dad, no need to worry, he's super super nice the Mr.!!! The others were cool with their shots too!!!" Myrei was only 6 years old, she didn't know what she was saying, she was just a child and she was being manipulated. Negative thoughts invaded his mind and lowered his impressions of the Mafia, even if they were already low enough.

After a brief discussion between the two adults, [Name] felt an icy hand on his shoulder and arched his back at the sensation. He was about to say something insulting, but he stopped himself and turned his head to see Mikey, the boy with short white hair. "I put your clothes that were at home in the closet and the uniform is on your bed, if you've seen it." He said his coldly, showing no mercy, but deep inside he was interested in him without realizing it. “Oh okay.. I’ll prepare myself than.”

──────

After getting ready in the bedroom, the boss waited patiently outside his door. He gasped slightly and bowed in respect. Mikey told him there was no point in bowing and asked him to follow him to his office. He followed with a fake smile on his lips. When they entered the room, Mikey sat down on a rather large and comfortable chair. While [Name] sat on a chair probably made of rusty metal because it creaked. Mikey handed him a piece of paper that showed how much he would be charged. [Name] looked at it for a moment before taking it and reading it. He was shocked, the amount was huge, he could live luxuriously on it every month. The man in the black t-shirt and pants didn't know what to say, but he appreciated [Name]'s smile, it reminded him of someone so close to him. He pushed his memories away, trying not to connect the past with the present.

"I like your genuine smile." Mikey stated it bluntly. [Name] stopped celebrating the money in his head and tilted his head, surprised by the remark. Had he been smiling? He hadn't even noticed. "Oh, thank you!" He smiled even more, a pink blush appearing on his cheek, he didn't know why he was blushing because he should be used to this kind of compliment, but coming from him, it felt strange.

[iridescentflamingo]

TMNT Head cannons

Bayverse Turtles. Just ideas that kind of poured out tonight. (Aged up turtles, you can pick but I want them 30-ish. ~NSFW)

🧡🐢🎇🧡

The easiest turtle to win over is Mikey. He practically throws himself at you. When you give him positive attention back, he just ramps up his flirting. He has pet names for you for days. Eventually, he'll settle on one or two good ones and use them instead of your name almost always. You are going to have to confirm that you have feelings for him before he takes it to the next level. Due to the fact that he is so very straight forward and right out the gates with his cat calling, you have to confirm that you are not just being nice and playing along. He's a flirt, not a creep. (Maturity has found him, it just took him a few more years than his brothers)

Once you do, your fate is sealed. Mikey is definitely a very handsy, flirty, hiding no feelings and having practically no shame kinda dude. He doesn't care if anyone sees, hears, smells etc. his flirting and most of his physical romancing. Telling you how hard you make him a bit louder than he should, toughie tough. Making out on the couch in front of everyone, he doesn't care. Getting caught with his hand down your pants in the kitchen, oh well.

What he does keep secret and quiet is when he vents. Always expected to be the fun and sunshine brother, you become his confidant when he's got heavy feels things to unload. To make sure that it doesn't bog you down, he tries his hardest to end with something more positive and turn it back into good-vibes.

The other thing he'll keep more on the down-low is when the two of you are trying new fetishes or engaging in kinky play for the first time. He doesn't want to be interrupted or for you to get embarrassed and then never want to try again, so that stuff stays in his room, when he knows it's private and he won't be bothered. After y'all get comfortable with it, maybe then he's less cautious.

💙🐢🌊💙

Leo is tough to know. He's dead set on his duties to the point that it's most of his personality, until you get to know him better, and that only happens if he lets you. It'll be slow. He will start by sharing random tidbits of himself that don't have to do with ninjutsu, weapons, or his leadership responsibilities. In the beginning they're bland, basic facts; which pizza toppings he prefers, his favorite type of TV show, his preferred genre of book. They're things you could gleam from just being around him for more than a few days. He's stupid cautious.

His next step would be to ask if you want to do some training with him. He sticks to simple things, testing your abilities and skills. It's really more to learn about you, but it's a start. He takes it easy on you, mostly dodging until you get frustrated, and then maybe he humbles you with a sneaky move like knocking you off your feet. He doesn't ask you if you want to practice again, he waits for you to ask.

Over time, the training becomes more physical and he shares actual details about himself, but you have to be giving info in return. Knowing what his favorite movie is probably would never be information that The Foot uses against him, but you never know. You have got to meet him, tit for tat, and offer your own truths. If he catches you lying, you're not just back to zero, you're in the negative.

Eventually, if you've managed to gain his trust and build a strong connection with him, Leo will open up properly. He will joke, play, swat, and treat you like one of his brothers, with a more gentle approach because you're not a 200lb+ muscled turtle.

If romance blooms, expect another slow trudge full of trust building and honesty before you get any proper boyfriend-esque attention. Once past the awkward "we shouldn't, it's too dangerous, how would this work?, I'm not human, will you really be happy here?" Swamp of despair, it should be smooth sailing. Be honest and he's all yours.

All that time spent building that relationship will return ten-fold from Leo with whatever type of affection you ask for. He wants to please, he wants you happy, and he will make it so if possible.

❤️🐢🥊❤️

Raph is going to keep his feelings secret for as long as he can. He hides his insecurities by trying to be the biggest, heaviest hitter, and a tank for his brothers. And those are just his viewed shortcomings compared to his three brothers. When looking at you, he compares himself against all men. He has little hope. In the mirror he sees a big, green face with sharp features and a scowling, RBF. He may act like hot shit in front of his brothers, but it's a front. Besides his appearance and size, his temper can flare, and he's come a long way since he was a teen, but it can still explode from him, which is terrifying to see, especially up close. He's very aware and is afraid that if you see him in that state, it will only reinforce the fact that he's a monster.

You will see glimpses of how sweet he can be from time to time, but they won't come often. When you're around, his guard is up doing double time; keeping up appearances and keeping his feelings in check. Over time his facade will falter occasionally. He'll be laughing at your jokes, ribbing you when you get frustrated over video games, checking to see if you've eaten, and maybe even leaning against you as he nods off on the couch. When you smile at his playfulness and kindness, he'll smile back until he catches himself and suddenly remembers that he has something to do. It will probably be going to their home gym.

If you can manage to get him to accept that you honestly and truly think he is not a monster, and that you want to be around him, and miss him when you're not with him, you're going to get someone who can be a huge teddy bear cuddler, but also someone who likes to get physical and more rough in the bedroom. This is going to take a lot of repeating yourself and him asking, not always subtly, if you really mean it. If you're sure you wouldn't be happier with some other guy. If your eyes work. If he's really not too big. If if if... You will learn that kisses can usually stop him from spiraling.

Sometimes Raph wants to cuddle and be soft and tender. Despite his size he is careful. He handles you like you're a porcelain figurine in the beginning. With the practiced ability to knit, his large hands can be surprisingly dexterous and delicate. He is not a bull in a china shop unless he chooses to. Quiet times together have him completely wrapped around you, holding you carefully close and seeking your body warmth. You are careful not to laugh the first time he slips and churrs when he begins to doze off in your arms. He won't do it again if you embarrass him.

Over time, he allows himself to be a bit more rough with you. At first it is just careful roughhousing, perhaps some near choreographed play tackles or even picking you up and pretending to slam you on the bed, setting you down carefully with sound effects instead of actual violence (Raph may have loved watching WWE growing up). After a bout of rougher hands-on play, he notices that you're turned on. This changes things immediately. Taking advantage of the situation, the play shifts from silly to sexual in an instant.

You both end up having the most amazing sex you've ever had thus far. The next day you talk about it as you ice bruises and he apologizes as you hobble around when you first get up from bed. As a couple, you set limits and it becomes a more regular thing. You enjoy this rougher type of sex and he enjoys being able to be less careful. Being rough is in his nature and you loving it and getting off to it just helps strengthen your bond.

💜🐢⚛️💜

(Saved the best for last~)

Donnie is guarded, but secretly hopeful about the possibility of a relationship. This busy, brainy, tech wizard of a brother is a master of design and invention, but he still has his own hang ups. Instead of fighting off insecurities, he fights anxiety, boredom, and possibly depression. Instead of working out or training, he buries himself in his work. Keeping busy keeps his mind from wandering into darker thoughts. It also leads him to pass out and sleep dreamless sleep. He knows that it isn't healthy, but the other thoughts aren't good for him either.

When he notices that you've taken an interest in what he is working on, he eagerly shares to the point of info-dumping. If he catches himself, he apologizes out of reflex. You have to dismiss it or he will assume that, like his brothers, you do not have time to hear him ramble. Asking him questions, especially if you do not understand what he is talking about, will spur him on to explain. He's patient and wants to share his knowledge. If you pretend to know, he can tell, and won't say anything, but will take note that you're just trying to be nice in order to placate him and get him to stop.

Always watching and analyzing everything, he'll take notice who you talk to when you arrive, who you spend the most time with, how you react to his other brothers antics and conversations, who you decide to sit next to, how much physical contact you give and to who... He sees it all and makes mental notes. He will also overthink things. Were you just laughing at Mikey's jokes, or was that flirting? Were you smiling at Leo because he was kind, or was that something more? Was that shove you attempted to give Raph just for fun, or were you trying to spur him to touch you? If you don't give him equal or more attention, he will notice and make pessimistic predictions.

If you give him the most attention out of his brothers and are genuinely interested in his projects and research, he will take note and begin to test you a little. While handing him a screwdriver, he notes how you react when his fingers linger on yours a little longer than they should have. As he explains the wiring on a smaller machine, he stealthily monitors your pulse rate when he moves close enough for your arms to press against one another. After some motor oil droplets splash on your cheek, he watches your face for any signs as he gently wipes the dark spots away with his thumb. Every action is inconspicuous and easily dismissed, but a treasure trove of valuable information before he makes any kind of decision as to what to do.

If he is completely positive that you harbor a crush on him, he meticulously plans his own confession. A true romantic, he wants this to be perfect. The two of you will be alone, most likely in his lab space where he is most comfortable. His brothers will either be out or busy. You won't have any idea that this is a special evening and will be under the guise that you're coming over to help him out with a project, as you often did. He'll let the evening start out with that project, but will end up shifting your attention to something else he's made. The secret project will be something impressive that has you in awe, asking how long he's been working on it. That's when he makes his move.

His answers have been rehearsed in his mind over and over, but his nerves still cause him to shake and some of his answers carry a hint of nervousness, but his face is confident and sure. He reports his data to you and details how he's noticed your affection. Still monitoring you, he is careful and has a backup plan readied in case he has to abort his admission. If everything goes as planned, you end up with his hand on your cheek and a gentle first kiss upon your lips.

Donatello is almost clingy with his affection. You receive messages when you are not around him and when you are at the lair, he is close to you or at least nearby. He seeks physical contact often but in more discrete ways when around others. At the dinner table, he'll move his leg so that his calf is leaning against yours. During movie night, he is hip to hip with you on the couch, encouraging you to lean against him once the flick starts. It's not completely hidden, but its modest.

Away from prying eyes, it is a completely different story. Hands end up under and in clothing as kisses turn from soft and sweet to hungry and demanding in seconds. All you have to do is say the right words. Donnie proves time and time again that he is a quick learner and has your body figured out within a couple of weeks. You find it difficult, at first, for him to properly let go and let you take the wheel, but in time the trust is built and he allows you to give without also receiving. He turns out to be a versatile switch after deviating from his original, more dominant, tenancies.

His favorite thing to do is make you climax. His second favorite thing is to climax together. His third is using toys...

~Ɛ>------------------------------------<3~

@thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @sophiacloud28 @thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @tmntngl @avery73 @tmntngl

(lmk if I missed anyone's tags)

[airbendertendou]

you are in love! ♥︎

synopsis : various best friend!characters realizing they like you a lil more when they should  [including bonten!sanzu, draken, senju, izana, aiura, saiki, satan, leon kennedy, and tamaki suoh.]

no pronouns used / gender neutral ; [name] used in place of y/n ; reader makes filipino food in izanas, im not from the philippines so pls don’t expect it to b accurate ; friends w benefits situation in satans ; reader dresses as sophie in tamakis but w pants and a shirt instead of a dress

song inspo ; you are in love by taylor swift 

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. 

——♥︎——

SANZU ♥︎

“big, scary bonten man,” you mumble to yourself. sanzu peaks at you over his shoulder as he cleans his gun, eyes narrowing at your tone. “never mean around me though, hm?”

he pauses, head tilting and pink hair following with it. you scoot further up the bed, laying against his pillows as he thinks. “i’m nice to mikey.”

“…that’s your boss.”

sanzu makes a show of rolling his eyes as he clicks his gun back together, satisfied with its new shine. “do you want me to be mean to you or somethin’?”

“why not?” you speak with a grin. the edge of the bed lifts as he stands, putting all his weapons away. sanzu pauses at your words, scrunching his nose in confusion. “definitely don’t look so mean ‘nd scary.”

huffing, he settles back on the bed, still sitting on the edge but a little closer this time. “i kill people, [name]. that’s pretty scary.”

you shrug, sitting up. your feet knock against his knees at the movement. “c’mon, haru,” you tilt your head back so that your neck is fully accessible, “do your worst.”

the room stills and you’re afraid you’ve pushed too far — afraid he might actually take you up on the offer. but something soft is pressed to the left side of your neck within the next second, lifting and latching onto different spots.

you gulp, feeling his responding grin against the middle of your throat.

the right side is given attention now, multiple kisses being scattered randomly. sanzu lifts his lips once more and places them on the base of your neck, his tongue and teeth making an appearance—

“ow, fucker!” you pull away from his touch with a scowl, your hand covering the new bite mark you’ve been gifted with. haru is grinning widely, teeth flashing in the light — you’re surprised you don’t see blood hanging on them. “didn’t have to bite me, haru.”

he shrugs, “wasn’t even my worst.”

you eye him, slowly dropping your hand from your sore and pulsating neck. “i feel sorry for your one night stands, then.”

sanzu hums, his right hand sliding closer to your hip and his body following until you’re face to face. it makes your cheeks heat ; makes you focus on the movement of his lips as he grins. “they won’t matter much anymore, anyways. have someone new i’m seeing.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah,” his lips brush against your neck once more. sanzu tugs at your waist, bringing you closer to him as his voice softens into a whisper and settles against your ear. “if you’ll have me.”

DRAKEN ♥︎

a towel is handed to you, followed by a hoodie you know isn’t yours. draken’s cheeks flush, “in case you get cold.”

with an awkward wave, he leaves you alone. the shower you take is needed, warming you up and calming you down at the same time. no matter how long you’d known him, it was still the first time you’d be with draken all night.

the rainstorm appeared suddenly and disappeared as abruptly. it’d drenched you just as you and draken left the cafe you met at. his place was closer, he’d said, and he asked so quietly for you not to say anything. 

it was weird until you got to his place — a brothel.

“alright in there, cutie?” you’d just stepped out of the shower when the voice followed you through the walls. “ken asked me to check on you.”

they were sweet, the women that surrounded draken. they made sure you weren’t hungry ; didn’t need any refreshments or anything as they led you to draken’s room. “have a nice night!” they leave with a giggle.

draken eyes the smile you’re wearing as you tug his hoodie comfortably around your neck. “somethin’ happen?”

“they’re nice,” is all you say in response. his cheeks heat up once more as he turns away from you, body stiffening. “are you ready for bed?”

“oh—“ he clears his throat and shuffles where he stands. “you can take the bed. i’ll have the floor.”

you shake your head, pulling the blanket back and patting the bed. “i don’t mind sharing. right or left side?”

that’s how you end up face to face with draken, staring absently into the dark as your combined body heat warms the comforter. you can feel and hear him let out a sigh, “you okay? all comfy?”

“yeah,” your voice is embarrassingly breathy. he lets out another huff before an arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “oh— that’’s better, actually.”

draken lets out a laugh, “m’glad. goodnight, [name].” 

SENJU ♥︎

“on the count of three!” senju jumps out of the dressing room adjacent to yours. she pauses, wobbling where she stands before straightening up. her head tilts, “it’s... something, alright!”

you pause, “you hate it.”

“...a little.” senju struts off, grabbing two of everything that catches her eye. she looks over the cloth she’s picked out, nodding in approval. “here,” she stuffs the fabric into your arms, “try this instead.”

you take a bit to figure out what she’d even brought to you — figuring which was the top and which the bottom — struggling to squeeze yourself in. once situated and comfortable, you gaze into the mirror.

it’s cute, watch senju told you to wear. the color is nice and balances your skin out, brightening it and making it glow. the bottoms fit your legs nicely, shaping and enlongating them. you hum in satisfaction, peeking out of the dressing room to see if senju’s done.

“[name]! let me see your outfit!” senju spots you right away. she gestures for you to join her enthusiastically. you open the door fully, scooting out until you’re face to face with her.

you hold out your arms nonchalantly, “ta-da.”

her eyes widen, mouth falling open ever so slightly. snapping it closed, she gulps, looking away before her cheeks turned color. you tilt your head, “senju?”

“yeah,” her voice cracks. the outfit she’s wearing is the same as yours — a matching moment, she went with. senju giggles nervously, “yeah. you look... pretty.”

prettier than she’d ever tell you.

IZANA ♥︎

the smell of lumpia and fried chicken coats the room around you. ran had just rinsed the rice, moving to mix together the rice noodles and shrimp for the palabok. kakucho is to his left, slicing boiled eggs so they could go on top.

you let out a sigh, nodding your head at the impressive menu you’d whiped together. filipino food was a little out of your comfort zone, an unkown taste to you. however, today was an important day — a special one. the oven dings, indicating the cake you’d made was finished. 

fresh out of the oven, the simplistic chocolate cake looks and smells delicious. you slap your hands together, “jus’ needs to cool down and we’re ready to go!”

the front door opens suddenly, rindou’s voice calling out a warning as he enters. shion is right behind him, pink-faced and sheepish as izana steps in, hands crossed over his chest. he raises and eyebrow, “what’s this?” 

“uh—“ kakucho adjusts the apron he’s wearing. it matches the one you’re wearing — ran refused one. he looks around, “surprise?”

“rindou! you were supposed to keep him busy!”

the blond shrugs, “he got bored.”

you sigh, closing your eyes as the food you’ve made is thoroughly examined. izana meets your gaze and raises his eyebrow in question once again. “it was supposed to be a birthday surprise.”

“...it’s filipino food.”

“yeah,” you wring your hands nervously. “you haven’t had it in a while, so i thought i’d try making it.”

izana looks over the food again, stealing a bite here and there as he goes. his eyes close ; his chest expanding with the comfort the familiar dishes bring. when his eyes open, they’re brighter ; more tender than what you’re used to seeing. 

your left hand is raised, a kiss being placed on your knuckles as izana pulls you close. “thank you, [name]. this means a lot.”

you grin, “happy birthday, z.”

AIURA ♥︎

in the morning, right after she does her makeup and before her uniform is on, aiura looks to her crystal ball for guidance. just a way to know things will be okay ; the day won’t be weird.

through the crystalline sphere, she sees her hand clasped in someone else’s. giddy, aiura believes this means she’s found her chosen one. the one made for her ; the one who will love her endlessly.

“—has to be the one!” she’s ranting to an unlistening saiki, rambling about her peek into the future. kaidou slips from leaning against her desk at her words. aiura sighs happily, “i can’t wait to meet them.”

a faceless classmate interupts the moment. “some idiots are fighting outside.”

you go to look — aiura can’t even remember when you came into the room. you rub your eyes tiredly before they widen dramatically. “that’s our idiot! aren’s out there!”

people flood outside, pouring out to help their beaten and bruised classmate. aiura is frozen in her seat — how did she not see this? how did a fight just miraculously break out?

a touch breaks her out of her thoughts. you’re holding her hand — frowning and ranting as you lead her outside. aiura’s face heats — you’re her chosen one? her one and only happiness? 

she gulps as she looks up to your face. this changes things. 

SAIKI ♥︎

the day starts normally. kaidou tells saiki he’d spent the night fighting agianst the dark reunion — he was studying all night. kuboyasu fought the urge to threaten an older boy in the school — just barely. nendou had already asked to eat ramen — they’d just gotten to school. 

saiki let out a sigh, eyes staring at the board in front of him. aiura had bought a new perfume that was clouding his nose, his thoughts — everything. she leans her head to the right so that she could meet his gaze. “what do you think, saiki?”

she’s met with silence. the chair behind him creaks as you sit down, a small laugh being let out as you do. aiura pouts your way, “[name], saiki’s ignoring me!”

you tap saiki’s shoulder lightly, just a brush of a touch, before turning to the blond. “don’t take it personal, aiura. you can just ask me what you want.”

“an angel,” she beams at you. aiura turns to face you fully, scrunching her nose at saiki as she goes. “i got some new perfume and nail polish recently,” she flashes her fingers at you. “cute, right?” 

you lean in closer, chin barely brushing against saiki’s shoulder as you go. you let out a small oooh! at the sigh of her glitzed up nails. “super cute, actually!”

she squints, leaning in a little closer as she does. “you’re wearing a new eyeshadow, aren’t you?”

“i am!” you close your eyes completely, relaxing your face so she can see the color. “like it?”

“looks... familiar for some reason.”

saiki peers at you sneakily from over his shoulder, only looking at you from the corner of his eye. he whips his head around before anyone can see. it is familiar — it’s his exact eye color. it takes everything in saiki to not light up in flames at the thought.

SATAN ♥︎

you had been an acquaintance of satan for months now. he’d come to you when he felt upset ; when the only feeling he could name was rage. when the world was burning and erupting inside of him, boiling and spilling out of his seams. he often took his anger out on you — with your consent, of course. he’s bruise you, scratch you and leave his mark lingering in any way he could.

today, though… today was the opposite. there was an emptiness inside of him ; a devoid and barren system that left him feeling nothing.

satan came to you, straggling and stone-faced as he locked his fingers into yours. you’d gotten close during your times together ; he knew every sigh you made and every face you held. you did the same to him ; made him feel comfort and freedom in ways he couldn’t around his brothers. that’s why he usually came to you when any feeling hit — you didn’t feel suffocating the way the house of lamentation always did.

“you okay?” you’re on his lap somehow, thighs sandwiching his own as his fingers dig into your hips. you brush his hair out of his eyes, “satan?”

he lets out a hum. you jostle slightly, hips meeting his torso — satan let’s out a small groan and let’s his forehead fall to your shoulder. “need me to help you relax?”

it starts off slow, your kissing. the usual upkeep is messy ; tangled and rushed as your clothes are ripped away and your bodies pressed tightly. this time, satan is careful to turn your head the way he wants it to, his hands on your cheekbones and guiding your head left and right.

you’ve just unbuttoned his shirt when you feel it. tears, dripping down your own cheeks. you pause, pulling away and letting your hands lift from his shoulders and settle on his cheeks. you tilt your head, “satan?”

his fingertips welted into your back, molding themselves onto either side of your spine like a pair of faded wings. satan breathes in, his chest stuttering with the feeling. he sniffs, nose and eyebrows curving in confusion as he pulls further away from you. “what’s going on?”

“you’re crying.” you wipe underneath his eyes gently, frown on your kissed, puffy lips. “why are you crying? what’s wrong?”

“i… i’m not sure,” his lower lip trembles. satan falls deeper into your hold, his arms looping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. “feeling too much.”

his fingers dip underneath your shirt, and pull it up until you’re bare and exposed. satan smiles tenderly and you grin back, your own hands crawling up his exposed chest. “sure you’re okay?”

“good with you,” it’s murmured against your neck. satan sniffs again before nipping at your throat, opened mouth kisses trailing down to your sternum. “always good with you.”

LEON S. KENNEDY ♥︎

the bar you’ve found yourself at is starting to get boring. you leave after waving eagerly to your friends, shuffling on the sidewalk as you awkwardly pull your phone from its safe spot. a text from leon catches your eye — a mere thumbs up to the long paragraphs you’d sent his way. you scowl only to realize you’re closer to his apartment than you thought.

he wasn’t asleep — he never slept well — but he wasn’t fully awake either. hearing a tap on his door was strange, but leon let it be, assuming his neighbors had hit the wall on their way in.

until a long, drawn out whine of his name flew through the room.

swaying in his doorway was you ; eyes half-lided and your shirt falling down your shoulder. you grin his way, “hi, lee!”

“[name]. why’re you here?” he sounds gruff ; annoyed with the way you seem to always show up at his door. you know he isn’t, though, used to the tone his voice holds. leon holds his door open as you stagger inside, “been drinkin’ again?”

“mm,” you flop onto his couch, “birthday party. got bored. remembered you jus’ came home.”

leon quietly places your shoes by the door and grabs a blanket while you yawn. “missed me then?”

you let out another hum, pulling the blanket he’d given you further up your shoulders. slowly, your eyes peel open and you smile at him softly. “always miss you when you’re gone, lee. like when you’re home.”

home wasn’t something leon remembers. he moved around a lot now, going from city to city for his government affiliated job. home meant the presence of care ; of warmth. leon’s bare, empty apartment held nothing like that. crystal eyes fell to you when you let out a small hiccup, sagging to the right until your head fell on his shoulder.

“m’home for now, [name].”

TAMAKI ♥︎

haruhi adjusts the hat you’re wearing, making sure the blue blouse you’re wearing is tucked in properly. you shuffle in your spot nervously, fingers picking at your cuticles as she nods to herself. her eyes meet yours, “you’ll do fine, [name].”

“says you,” you frown. you stretch the neck of your blouse and clear your throat. “you guys are used to this stuff.”

haruhi swats your hands away, grabbing them in her own. “you will do fine. c’mon, it’s time to start.”

“welcome!”

tamaki doesn’t have time to speak to you ; doesn’t have time to admire the outfit you’re wearing before they’re greeting guests. his eyes stray to you again and again, his attention on you and not the guests who surround him. you go to every table, dropping off sweet treats and teacups as you go.

“—lly cute.” a girl is saying to him. tamaki blinks back into reality as his shoulder is touched. “right, tamaki?”

“could you repeat that, princess?”

her cheeks flare a bright pink as she straightens up in her seat. “i said you and [name] match. howl and sophie, right? it’s really cute.”

tamaki’s eyes find you again as you drop slices of cake off at the twins’ table. they giggle with you, tugging on your hat playfully before you leave. “we do match, don’t we?”

orchid eyes stay focused on you for the rest of the day. even after the club’s activities are over, and you’re helping clean up — he still stares. you finally look back, placing your hat on a table as you go. “yes, tamaki? you’ve been staring.”

“we’re sophie and howl,” his voice is light, faraway as he speaks. “did you notice?”

“only after i saw you.” you smile gently, watching kyoya tally up any and every cost. “a nice surprise for us both, i suppose.”

tamaki stares at your reflection in the window in front of him, eyeing the way you portray your chosen characters. his cheeks barely heat, but he still feels like it’s obvious to everyone. haruhi meets his flustered gaze and grins.

——♥︎—— i know nothing abt cooking n even less abt filipino food so i hope izanas was okay </3 hope they were all okay tbh

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[spooky-bunnys]

So I'm bad with this thing, but I wanted to request a bonten where their husband is an omega only different from the others, as he is not sensitive and he orders bonten to obey (imagine him ordering him around in a meeting and random leaders are outraged by an omega ruling bonten) sorry for my english, i'm not of the english language

Title: I am Bonten

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Bonten x O!Male Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Weapons, and Sexist Assholes.

Bonten was tired of this meeting already. The only thing going through most of their heads. They left their gorgeous Omega in their bed, for this meeting? It was all they could think about. It was only a matter of time before two things happen.

Either Mikey gets tired of the meeting and snaps, or (Name) comes in. The excutives didn't care which happened. They were just ready for the meeting to end. All they wanted to do was eat (Name)'s delicious food and finish the multiple piles of paperwork that was waiting on the Omega's desk.

Since their Omega was their assistant after many fails. They had their mate become their assistant and its made Bonten's work easier for them. Which made their lives easier if they were being honest. Since they finally had an assistant that wasn't just trying to sleep their way to the top. But also wasn't afraid to put them in their place.

As the company leader in front of them cleared his throat, probably to get their attention since it looked like almost nobody was paying attention. The door to the meeting room was kicked open. While Bonten didn't jump, knowing who it is and very used to the action. Their guest was not expecting the interruption.

Which lead to (Name) almost getting shot, if he hadn't already started making his way over to Bonten. But from what the excutives could tell, someone messed up. Most we're willing to bet it was one of the three idiots. "OI! Haruchiyo!" Said male perked up only to have the collar of his shirt grabbed. (Name) yanked Sanzu from his seat and glared at him.

The other members quietly laughed at his facial expression. Very quietly so they wouldn't get on their Omega's bad side again. "Why was in when I came into work expecting finished paperwork on my desk, I see the others have finished some paperwork. But nothing from you? As Bonten's second your supposed to set an example. Not FUCKING GOOF OFF!"

As (Name) shook Sanzu violently. The other watched like this was an everyday thing. Which is probably was true with how much Sanzu avoids his paperwork. Before (Name) knew it he was forcibly removed from Sanzu and thrown to the ground. The excutives jumped up to help but Mikey raised his hand.

Mikey of all people knew what happened if someone puts their hands on (Name). As someone who knew (Name) from his childhood, he knew how (Name) was raised. (Name) was an Omega not to be tried with. He'd learned the hard way how different he was from other Omega's.

(Name) glared at the towering figure and slowly got up. "Excuse you. But what the hell do you think you're doing putting your hands on me?" The air in the room immediately grew cold. The company chuckled. "You're excused Omega. Now leave so we can continue this meeting." (Name)'s glare hardened. "No. Get out."

The company leader busted out in laughter. "An Omega like you can't make us leave!" (Name) practically snarled. As he tried stepping closer to the peader only for the same male from earlier to get in his way. Making (Name) snap.

Bonten watched with smirks as (Name) threw the guard to the ground. They loved when (Name) got like this. It reminded them why they loved him so much. (Name) quickly took care of the other guards. After the last guard was down, (Name) stalked towards the leader. The Company leader looked furious as (Name) got into his face.

"I told you to get out. That was me being nice. Now," (Name) pulled out a gun and held it under the leader chin. "Either you leave and take your guys with you, or I blow your brains on the wall and your guys go to the basement." He pressed the gun harder. "You're choice bitch."

Mikey motioned the guys forward. Sanzu carefully wrapped his arms around (Name)'s waist while whispering something into his ear and kissed his neck. While making direct eye contact with the leader. (Name) huffed and pulled the gun away and growled. "Fine. Get this asshole out of my building."

The leader scoffed while ribbing his chin. "Your building?! This building belongs to Bonten!" (Name) with a straight face pulled down the collar of his turtle neck. Showing not only a bite mark, but in the middle of the bite was a tattoo. Bonten's tattoo to be exact. "I AM Bonten. Now leave while I'm still in a good mood."

Sanzu nodded to the others who got the guests to leave. Once they were gone, Sanzu turned (Name) around and gave him a sweet kiss. "Do you know how much we love you?" (Name) stares at him. "A lot. Do you know how much paperwork you need to do?" Sanzu stared. "Is it a lot?" (Name) nodded and Sanzu groaned. Laying his head on (Name)'s shoulder.

[nesting-dreams]

I know people obsess with Raphael knitting, but fun fact: He has other hobbies like mechanics, sculpting wood statues and making weapons to name a few in different universes. He’s just as creative as Mikey, but gets zero attention for it.

[neverheroes]

Here’s a bunch of stuff in the MM Tales of the TMNT comic-con sneak-peek I thought about too much!

They’ve cared so much about showing how differently they each react to and process the same situation.

Through the scene Raph is excited to tear things up and true to every iteration ever tries things his way until it doesn’t work, Don’s flight response pings into analyst mode and you just know he’s figuring out how to break stuff, Mike is thriving in team-mode and keeping them all on track, and Leo flails around like a giant ball of chronic anxiety before figuring out a plan. They’re original formula with gently new toppings and I’m ready for this slice.

Raphael

This guy! We get so much. He’s rearing to do some fighting that isn’t sparring and be free to do some actual damage. So we know he’s bored fighting is brothers and wants a challenge. He can’t handle this one and in figuring that out is “open to suggestions” which is quite the overlooked Raph quality, he’ll listen he just has to work through that impulsive reactive streak first. He’s strong and knows it, and that robot gets a harder fight. The Raph highlight for me was taking time while fighting to honour the time-old tradition of making fun of Michelangelo. <Sobs in last ronin.>

Donatello

This kid, man! It’s a long standing opinion of mine that everyone should be more scared of Donatello. His interest in understanding the threat overrides most of his fear. Cerebral af. This is his face most of the time while a robot programmed to obliterate him is directly behind him. On the surface it looks like he’s running away a lot, but he can’t exactly press pause on it to figure out how they work. His gentle heart characterisation is well intact, apologising to the robot when he damages it having already personified the thing. I honestly believe he would take it home like he’d found a new pet if that were an option.

Michelangelo

What a show of Mikey magic. He’s got the comedy relief on a casual setting with subtle jokes and unintentionally antagonistic observation style. Mike has a tiny attention span but is 100% in every moment and they draw a lot of attention to his speed and agility. He shines doing what Mikey is known so well for; keeping the family together. It was awesome to see him effectively orienting his brothers into the situation, and see them listen to him so readily. He still calls to Leo for guidance when he feels out of control, but we might be in for a more surprising personal arc than ~nobody takes me seriously~ this time around.

Leonardo

This is a blessing for Leo fans because MM Tales Leo sucks /srs. Not in the way Raph fans say it on Instagram posts, in the way that his flaws are so disparate from other versions that a mastery arc is screaming his nervous muppet name. The giftedness is still sewn in; even flailing around he has more advanced weapon control, is observant enough to be the right level of stressed when a threat shows up, and jumps into strategy finding a vantage point to make a plan like a good little Leo, but instead of our usual Leo trauma ball we (at least for now) get to watch a Leo with the confidence of a processed cheese slice be terrible at things because he’s just some kid…

Pfffffffahahhhahhahba

The Mutant Mayhem kids are the most realistically green (and by that I mean inexperienced) we've ever seen them and it's continued into Tales. With detaching from source origin and establishing a much more grounded reflection of teen life in the current world, the growth arcs over Tales and the next MM movie have such immense unburdened potential that it really could lead anywhere and I don’t know what to expect.

(Tales of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will air in August 9th 2024 on Paramount+)

[shantechni]

Aight, so this is something I intended to make a post about eons ago before making a bunch of posts related to it, but some things happened. Anyways-

The night Leo meets Karai, or rather is ambushed by her, he's thrown for a loop by her unprecedented decision to leave before she could easily finish him off. He's almost instantly putting an unreasonable amount of trust in her after that single interaction, and you can't entirely blame the guy since she was making no attempt to kill him while exuding her mischievous nature and taunting him like they've been buddies for years. Her behavior loosened him up in a way he normally couldn't be because of his duties as a leader. Of course, the situation greatly escalates from there as one thing leads to another, and the turtles are faced with the moral dilemma of accepting Karai for their familial connection with her or shunning her like any other enemy they know as she takes almost any chance she could get to hold a tantō to their necks.

Although none were more expressive with their distrust of her than Raph, there is something interesting to take note of.

Raph is the first to find out about Karai's existence and the evidently one-sided "friendship" Leo has with her, but rather than immediately go on the offensive with Karai (extremely surprising considering she had Leo pinned to the roof right when he arrived) or accuse Leo of any wrongdoing, he simply demands an explanation from his brother. Raph observed the situation with a level head and didn't judge Leo for anything other than seeming too blasé about Karai being a Foot clan member, or for saying she wasn't intent on killing him when she threw a weapon at his head. Other than that, he kept the matter between him and Leo since it didn't seem to be a pressing issue at the moment. His trouble with Karai only really began in the next episode when he witnesses Leo needlessly showing off in front of her and even going out of his way to hide her from Splinter, Donnie, and Mikey.

Nothing's stopping Raph from telling everyone, and he certainly doesn't trust Karai enough to leave things as they are, but he puts his faith in Leo and nudges him to come clean about his new found friend twice to their brothers at least. Soon after being told that Karai was 'taken care of' (something he called total BS on), he reaches his boiling point once he discovers her following them, and his frustrations are worsened by Leo going out of his way to defend Karai when she's spelling trouble for them. As to be expected, Leo is forced to confess after she lands them in hot water and leaves them for dead while running off with a Kraang bot, but once Splinter gives him a much needed lecture, Raph forgives him and seemingly stays out of his face about the ordeal. At least until Karai approaches them with a proposition to combine their forces and fight the Kraang, something he surely would've put up more of a fight to shoot down had the others, namely Leo, not agreed to her offer after she helped them fight the Kraang stealth ship.

All of those instances, when combed through for the little things, are some of the first details the writers gave us to show a major distinction between Leo and Raph.

Raph's temper is so front and center throughout the series that the amount of patience he exercises in response to Leo's asinine decisions and trains of thought (especially early on) has a tendency of being overshadowed. He constantly, and openly, shunned the idea of Karai ever siding with them since he couldn't find it in himself to readily trust her like everyone else could, and even after learning who her real father is, he continued to question the possibility of Karai ever turning out to be good when considering her upbringing. But he still went along with Leo's wishes to help and go so far to befriend her because he knew his brother was simply trying to help someone out of the kindess of his heart at the end of the day, and Leo's only further spurred by her being their sister.

This isn't exclusive to their development with Karai, because we see later on that Raph exercised a far greater amount of that patience when Slash made his theatrical return to the team midway through S3.

One could make the argument that the writers should've had the midseason two parter focus the slightest bit more on Raph's POV since Slash used to be his pet and Leo was the only one unwilling to believe he'd changed since their last encounter, but I'd say with certainty that the minuscule amount of input we received from him is just the right amount of focus we needed. Raph doesn't blow up at Leo for his treatment of Slash because he knows his suspicions aren't baseless, and he doesn't go out of his way to prove Slash's innocence to Leo (Mikey kind of does that for him lol); he only decided to step in when the two couldn't decide on what plan to proceed with. He plainly moves aside and allows Slash to prove Leo wrong through his own efforts, all while undoubtedly believing since their last encounter that Slash isn't bad anymore and that Leo would eventually come around to make that same conclusion.

The complete opposite of Leo's stubborn behavior when it came to Karai.

Look at Leo's face, he's so silly, a goofy goober if you will

Even though she went on to turn her back on Shredder, and essentially prove that Leo was right, Raph wasn't wrong to take so much time to see Karai as a trustworthy ally. He recognized that it wasn't enough for her to just be borderline friendly and fight on the same side as them; legitimate effort needed to be put forth for them to warm up to someone like her, and her track record didn't exactly suggest that she'd readily put in that effort. Leo's fixation with turning the tables on Shredder and making things right with Splinter practically blinded him from that simple little truth though. Of course, he learned the error of his ways and clearly followed in Raph's footsteps when confronting Slash and anyone else they'd cross paths with that posed a potential threat, sometimes tending to go too deep into that mindset when he was upset with Fugitoid and Usagi.

They both learned a little bit of something from each other along the way, but the difference in how Leo and Raph grow to perceive the matter of trusting someone is so fascinating to me.

[phecdasolar]

Tumblr I need your help I am in dire need of feral/unhinged Disaster Twins fics pleaseeee (and maybe Mikey as a bonus) I’m just in love with the idea of Raph being the impulse control for once with this iteration, and just the second he’s out of commission the other three go insane.

Weapons of War, Bioengineered Killing Machines, Manufactured Supersoldiers Rottmnt turtles my BELOVEDS

And maybe just like,,, set Leo and Donnie loose on one of the other dimensions and have them absolutely horrifically annihilate their counterparts’ villains while they watch on in horror

(B.E.A.S.T. was SUCH a good fic you guys oh my GOSH go read it I’m begging you-)

I NEED to have it addressed in fic form that the Rise turtles are fundamentally different than all their other counterparts, because their counterparts? They were accidents. Just a couple of turtles splashed with mutagen and oh look now they’re people but Green. (Huge oversimplification I’m aware but hear me out okay-)

But the Rise boys were created. They were specifically designed to be weapons of mass destruction. They were built with the intent to cause harm which means they were bioengineered to be stronger, smarter(?), faster, to heal quicker, to have the capacity to take hard hits while dishing out even harder ones, they were literally forged with a purpose to kill.

Add on their mystic powers? Then their unlocked Ninpo? You can’t honestly tell me that these four aren’t the strongest and potentially deadliest version of themselves out there.

Yes they still had to learn things, as did the other iterations, they weren’t immediately good (that much is obvious, like c’mon it’s IN the name) but I don’t think the other iterations possess the same instincts as these guys do. They’re just so. Unhinged. They’ve all had their moments in the show I think where it’s obvious they’re not really,,, stable. I love them.

In a plain fists only, maybe weapons, no powers fight, I do think some of the other iterations would win, but purely because they have way more experience than these guys do. (If I did any crossovers I’d say 2003 and 2012 are definitely older than these guys, especially if we’re basing this at the end of their shows) But put them against each other when they’re still at the same level? Rise is whooping butt, I know where I’m placing my bets. It’s called RISE of the TMNT for a reasonnnnnn they’re not there yet but they WILL BE, and as of the end of s2 and the movie I say they’re finally THERE.

I have no idea how this turned into a headcanon rant this was just supposed to be me asking for fic recs hsgdjdjdk it’s almost 3 am tho so whatever sorry if none or only some of this is incoherent o7 o/

Editing this with a list of fics I have been graciously recommended below the cut:

Firefight by remrose [43/43 chapters 222k words] (edit: JUST FINISHED READING ch38-42 WATCH ME BAWL MY EYES OUT I was rotating them in my brain all morning at work) less on the feral side, more on the gut-wrenching angst side, still Disaster Twins and still super good

In Which Donnie and Leo Make Themselves Everyone Else's Problem in an NYC That Isn't Even Their Own by YukiSkyes [7/? chapters, 18k words] the CLASSIC “the Disaster Twins are unapologetically causing chaos” fic, always a delight to read

The Lemon Leak by TurtleSoupSwimmer [27/37 chapters, 143k words] I’m being told it’s very true to the theme here, and it’s very angsty, a suspenseful psychological thriller, and will make you scream at your phone. I for one am very intrigued

Eschatology by aenor_llelo, Alderous, ConcoctionsFromHell, izziel_galaxy, Jaybird314, Otakuforlife19, and Rocket999 [17/17 chapters, 344k words] “HEAVY on the boys being biologically engineered to destroy the world, it also delves into so much character building and worldbuilding that we never got in canon, and it gives even super minor characters the chance to shine” Sounds intriguing, AND it’s a BNHA crossover which I am a big fan of :D

The Hunter’s Bible also by TurtleSoupSwimmer [2/2 chapters, 15k words] Rated Mature, contains themes of SA and c@nnibalism so PLEASE keep that in mind!! Not a fic for the faint of heart this is a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! The SA is only attempted, and never shown, only implied, and it’s only in ch 1, but the other stuff is fairly descriptive and takes place in ch 2. All that being said, flipping UNHINGED, just about lost my mind in ch 2, it was entertaining in a surreal kinda way if you get what I mean. Funky little feral creatures

[theamazingaxleyax]

OMFG MY BRAAIIIIIINNNNN!!!!

I have an idea. (This is incredibly garbled and probably incoherent, but I need to get this out now)

So basically, ROTTMNT separated AU right?

Splinter was only able to save Raph and Mikey from the lab explosion, but only narrowly. Some rubble cut him off from the twins, and baby Raph got a little banged up as well. After the whole wreckage, Draxum assumes that half of his creations are dead based on the small puddle of blood near a large pile of debris. Lou had taken the other two.

Splinter raises Raph and Mikey the same he does in canon EXCEPT when Raph is 16, he asks about the large scar on his arm. Splinter who has been dreading this question for years carefully explains the story. (At least... some of it). He's silently believed that the other two have been living in the hidden city all these years. They have his DNA, they won't die easily. Mikey almost instantly decides he wants to see the hidden city, so after some scrounging around and paying a visit to a certain goat yokai running a candy/mystic item shop who had a terrible password (wink? seriously?). He managed to get a gateway opener.

Fast forward a couple of years. The boys and April have been visiting the Hidden City for a while. They met a rabbit yokai named Yuichi Usagi a while back, and Mikey has been dragging him around ever since.

Now let's say something happens and Raph and Mikey encounter a problem that they can't razz-ma-tazz or punch their way out of. Usagi offers some advice. Two of the most well known characters in The Hidden city's underground network. One is a mercenary, and is well known for having a VERY strict moral compass when it comes to jobs (What that moral compass is exactly is anybodies guess.) and the other is a rarely seen arms dealer, well known for their incredible mystic technology. The two are known to be exceptional strategists, and could help solve this problem

This is where we meet Vio and Indie. (Placeholder names). Raph, Mikey, Usagi, an April enter a small sketchy looking building, COVERED in mystic flora. Weapons line each wall, and at the counter in the back, there are various jars of poisons and medicines. Then a yokai catches their attention.

A turtle yokai.

He's wearing a cross between a robe and a cloak, a mask covering the lower half of his face, but that does very little to hide the smug grin on his face. He throws a couple of flirtatious remarks at Usagi, before introducing himself a Indigo, or Indie to the three who don't know him. Raph and April are reasonably shook, and struggle to find the words they need, so Mikey introduces himself and his family before discussing the problem. Indie almost instantly starts acting buddy-buddy with him saying he "Likes his vibes" and asks a couple clarifying questions when a second yokai walks in.

He looks.... bad. Half of his torso has pretty nasty burn scars, and he has a prosthetic arm and eye. (No wonder he was rarely seen). He has a bit of an absent look on his face, and Indie quickly excuses himself, introducing the other as his brother, Violet, or Vio, and starts to nudge him back towards the curtain door he came through (the house section of the building). He explains that Vio had a bad run-in with a certain spider when they were younger and a very poor deal was made. Everything had been solved at this point, but it left Vio with lasting damage (mentally and physically) and today was a "Foggy Day"

So, fast forward a bit (again) and the random threat is dealt with by now, but Mikey still enjoys visiting the twins (even if they are sketchy af). Vio is pretty chatty when he's not "Foggy" and Indie knows some really good jokes and one liners. Eventually Mikey spills the beans about Draxum (this whole situation has taken place over the course of season one) and that reawakens some buried memories from the other two. One Vio mandated DNA test later, and Indie is practically squealing over his relation to not only the greatest martial arts movie star EVER, but also the Ex-Battle Nexus Champion!

Insert awkward reunion here, blah blah blah, I haven't got this far in my idea yet. Idek if I'll even continue this little thought experiment. (It started out as a simple 'Okay, Disaster Twins, but like.... Anti-Hero')

[puppetmaster13u]

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

[fairy-writes]

hello there i hope you have a great day today, can i request an albert x reader. the reader is holmes younger sister (could be an age gap but if you uncomfortable you can make the reader sherlock older sister). im kinda interested that the reader and albert is ike in a fake engagement but slowly they fall for each other. im sorry if its a lott or confusing 😖😖😖😖

FAKE… OR IS IT?

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Albert James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Fake Engagement, Reader is short

Notes: I wrote this with the reader being the Holmes’s middle child. So, in between Mycroft and Sherlock :)

Here are their ages!

Mycroft: 31 | Reader: 27 | Sherlock: 24

__________________________________________________________________________

“Sit up straight, Sister.” Mycroft chastises, and you roll your eyes, propping your heeled feet up on the coffee table, much to his chagrin. You can tell he’s less than pleased with the mud on the table by the tightness around his eyes. 

“Bugger off, Mikey.” You grumble and slouch even more in your seat. His frown deepens, but he knows better than to try and get you to obey. If anything, it would make you rebel even more. 

You had never been one for proper manners if you could help it. You had always been a rough-and-tumble type of woman, playing in the dirt with the neighborhood kids while Mycroft and Sherlock dealt with their studies. Sure, you also had studies of your own. But overall, you tended to ignore whatever your governess taught you in favor of learning how to handle weapons from your father. Mycroft sits back in his seat and sighs, 

“At least sit properly when the company gets here.” He mutters under his breath. 

That gets you to sit up straight.

“Company?! Since when?!” You choke and hurriedly set down your teacup before you can spill it down your front. Your elder brother had summoned you to his office that morning with a telegram. But he hadn’t explained why you were there, even with your pestering. Mycroft glares at you pointedly and is about to answer when there’s a firm knock on the door. 

“Come in.” He calls, his voice booming and loud in the quiet room. 

A tall young man, perhaps your age, enters the room. He’s attractive, almost devilishly so. With slicked-back brown hair and piercing green eyes, he’s dressed in the typical uniform of all soldiers. 

You recognize this man. 

Your younger brother wouldn’t shut up about his family. 

Lieutenant Colonel Albert James Moriarty. 

You glare at Mycroft, who ignores your look in favor of standing up and shaking Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty’s hand. Brushing off the front of your dress, you stand as Mycroft gestures to you. 

“This is my younger sister,” He says. Your name follows soon after. You plaster a bright smile on your face and extend your own hand. Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty bows slightly and introduces himself before you turn to look at your brother. 

“I assume this is where I take my leave?” You ask, and he raises an eyebrow, 

“On the contrary, dearest sister, you’ll be taking part in this meeting.” Your face betrays your shock before you can school it into a facade of perfect calm. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty notices but doesn’t comment. 

Mycroft gestures for you to take your seats before his desk, and you do so, perching on the edge of the seat like a bird ready to take flight. In contrast, Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty sits back, relaxed in his chair, setting his hat in his lap and steepling his hands together. 

“So, mind telling me what this ‘important mission’ is about?” He says politely, and you look at him from the corner of your eye.

Important mission? 

Just what was your elder brother planning? 

Mycroft leaned his hands on his desk and then leaned his weight on his hands. It seemed he wasn’t taking a seat quite yet. 

That meant things were serious. 

“There’s a mission I am entrusting to the both of you. It’s of the utmost importance and must be handled immediately.” 

Wait…

“You’re what?!” You blurt just as Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty opens his mouth to speak. You don’t give him the chance to talk. You stand and jab a finger at Mycroft, the other hand clenched in the fabric of your dress skirt. 

You weren’t about to be a pawn in your brother’s game. You weren’t even an MI6 agent or soldier of his! 

“Absolutely not! This can’t possibly be legal! I’m just a civilian!” You stand and jab a finger at Mycroft, the other hand clenched in the fabric of your dress skirt. Mycroft stares down at you. He had always been the tallest of the three Holmes siblings. You were saddled with the hefty burden of being the shortest. 

“You know this as well as anyone that MI6 operates outside the law,” Mycroft says simply, and you grind your teeth. He had a point. But still… 

“What about Miss Moneypenny?” You ask, and Mycroft shrugs, 

“She’s on another mission with Colonel Moran. You two are the only ones I trust with this.” He says, turning his intense stare onto you and Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty. 

You flinch at that. Mycroft never openly said he trusted you. It was sometimes implied, but he knew how fickle you could be! Was this mission really that important?

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty stands and accepts the papers Mycroft hands him. He then extends a hand for you to take. Begrudgingly, you take it and allow him to help you to your feet. 

At least your ‘mission partner’ was a gentleman. 

You accept Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty’s offer to take you back to the Holmes London estate and sit across from him in the carriage. He opens the papers Mycroft gave him and begins to read. 

“Oh dear…” He mumbles, and you look over from where you had been watching the scenery go by. He has a frown pulling at his lips and creasing his brows. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, and he turns the papers around so you can read them. 

“It seems we’ll need to be engaged for this mission to work.”

Your engagement was announced within the next week. 

You had even commissioned an artist for an engagement photo of sorts. Granted, it was just for show, but still! You had to stand still for hours in a dress your mother picked out and that you loathed all for one portrait. 

You never understood how royalty could do it. 

Speaking of your parents… 

Part of the facade was to make sure everyone was in on it. Maybe ‘in on it’ wasn’t the right word. Because this was a top-secret mission, after all. So you couldn’t exactly tell your parents that this engagement was fake. But you did have to tell them you were getting engaged lest you incur the wrath of your mother. 

Wanda Holmes was a proper woman. She was everything you weren’t. Prim, proper, ladylike. The only thing you got from her was her height and her temper. She hated that you weren’t the little lady she dreamt of having. But there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. 

In contrast, Timothy Holmes was a bit of a rule breaker. He fostered your love for weaponry and often challenged you to a shoot-off to see if you let your skills rust over. You inherited his knack for getting under people’s skins, and it was a wonder that he was still married to your mother after thirty years. 

Telling them was an… interesting adventure, to say the least. As your carriage rumbled up to the country estate where they resided, they met you outside. Your mother had her hands clasped together, a newspaper crunched in her grasp. Her face was dark with disappointment. 

Like the light side of the moon, your father all but bounded up as you stepped out of the carriage. 

“Dearest daughter!” He bellowed, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Dearest father!” You tease right back and step forward into his embrace. He squeezes you tight and lifts you up into a spin. You shriek with laughter and cling to him to make sure you don’t fall when he sets you back down. 

“Darling, at least let her get into the house before you bother her.” Your mother says, and you roll your eyes but don’t say anything. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty steps out of the carriage, and your father’s demeanor changes. His smile is still there, but it no longer reaches his eyes. He extends a hand, and when Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty takes it, you can tell he’s holding back a wince from how hard your father squeezes it. 

“Timothy Holmes. It’s a pleasure.” Your father says curtly, and you can tell Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty can tell he’s being judged. But he offers a polite smile nonetheless,

“Albert James Moriarty. The pleasure is mine, Mr. Holmes.” He says, and it’s then that your mother approaches. Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty shakes her hand,

“You must be the infamous Wanda Holmes. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Your mother’s face smoothes over, and she looks at you,

“At least you’re marrying someone with manners.” This is her only comment, and you can see that the newspaper in her free hand is the one announcing your engagement. 

Perhaps you should’ve informed them by telegram instead of coming to visit for dinner… 

No… That would’ve made her even angrier than she already was. 

She soon ushers you into the little cottage that served as your parents' retirement home. The minimal staff on site has already prepared and served dinner, but you don’t eat just yet because your father catches your shoulder. He has a knowing gleam in his eye, and you can’t help but get a giddy smile on your face. 

Of course, he wouldn’t forget. 

Your mother notices, and her face sours. 

“Can’t this wait until after dinner?” She asks, and now your father scoffs,

“Of course not, my love! It’s tradition!” He crows, and you can see Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty start to ask, but you’re taken out back before anything can be asked. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty follows you out, and by then, your father is setting up targets with you, assembling the two pistols you always used for this little exercise. You brush off your hands on your dress and hand your father the revolver. You take your own and pocket it in the holster strapped to your waist. He does the same and looks to Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty. 

“Mind giving us a signal?” He asks, his tone much more friendly yet still a bit frosty at the same time. 

Your ‘fiancé’ seems to pick up on what’s happening quickly and nods. He allows both of you to take a stance before calling out a signal. 

The game takes less than twenty seconds. 

You whip out your gun and unleash all six bullets in the cylinder and barrel. Your father does the same, and before you know it, both of your guns are empty, and your ears are ringing. Holstering the weapon, you wait for your father to do the same before approaching the targets. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty is called forward to inspect the targets as well. 

“I believe your daughter is the winner.” He tells your father, and you grin proudly. 

“Guess I haven’t lost my touch, Father Dearest.” You tease, and your father slaps his thigh in defeat,

“And I guess I’m losing mine!” He chirps, and your mother calls from the doorway.

“And it’s time for dinner!”

The carriage ride back is quiet. 

“Where did you learn to shoot like that? I’ve never seen someone so accurate in a quick draw.” Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty says, and you jolt lightly. The food you had eaten was sending you into a food coma, and you had been dozing until he spoke. 

“My father. He was known as “Dead-Eye” for a long time until he retired from the military.” You said, and he nodded in appreciation. 

“He taught you well.” 

You smiled and played with your fingers. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty.” You say genuinely, and he arches an eyebrow, 

“You should call me Albert. We are engaged, after all, my dear fiancée.” His tone is borderline teasing. But you can tell he’s being genuine.

And for whatever reason, it makes your heart race. 

The mission is kicked into gear three months after announcing your ‘engagement.’ 

The gala you are attending is only for married or engaged couples. Everyone was investigated to ensure no one single was sneaking in. Why they wanted to keep single folks out was a mystery to you. But you relented and accepted the invitation as the ‘Future Mrs. Moriarty’ with as much grace as you could muster. 

You produced the invitation from your handbag and handed it to the man checking said invitation. Your free hand was looped through Albert’s arm, resting in the crook of his elbow. He chatted amicably with the doorman until you were announced as a couple and ushered inside. 

The air was already alive with the sounds of music and dancing couples. The two of you make some rounds around the sides of the dance hall, looking for your target. Hell, you even danced the waltz to a few songs! All those lessons you thought were useless were sure coming in handy now… Perhaps you should thank your mother for forcing you to listen to your governess as a child. 

Albert leans down to whisper in your ear as he brings you in from a gentle spin. 

“He’s at the top of the stairs.” He murmured, looking for all the world like he was whispering sweet nothings to his fiancée. But instead, he was walking you through the next phase of the plan. Seeing as your job was to kill your target, he was instructing you on how to get to his office, where he would meet you and find the documents he was looking for. 

Albert was to find the incriminating evidence. You were to kill the target if he tried to resist. 

The office was warmed by a crackling fire. There’s a large mahogany desk in front of the fireplace with documents and papers scattered across the surface. You clutch your purse closer to your chest, feeling the sturdy weight of the revolver inside. It was comforting. 

You had one job, so you would do it, and you would do it well. 

The doorknob turned, and you jumped, sneaking a hand inside your handbag to draw the revolver. The door opens, and the target spots you in front of the dying light of the fireplace. 

“Who are you?!” He bellows, but you know no one would be able to hear him over the sounds of music and talking. 

He doesn’t hear the door shut behind him until Albert slides the lock into place. He whirls and tries to push past your fiancé, but it’s like trying to move a stone wall. 

“What are you going to do to me?!” The target demands, and Albert smiles a terrifying smile. It was nothing like the kind and even tender smiles he had been giving you as of late. This smile darkened his eyes. 

It was almost… Cruel…

“Nothing if you cooperate.” He says darkly and pushes the man to sit in the chair before his desk. You walk behind him and press the muzzle of your revolver to the back of his balding head. He freezes, a drop of sweat traveling down his temple. 

Albert rifles through the desk, and no one says a word for what seems like forever. 

At least… Until the target tries to run. 

The chair has a low back. It’s almost more of a stool, so he throws his head back and cracks it into your nose. You stumble back and fall, tripping over the hem of your dress. The only thing keeping you from firing your gun is the fact that your father had engrained it into you to not keep your finger on the trigger until you were ready to fire.

Albert freezes and reaches into his suit jacket coat, but you’re faster. 

Before the target can even make it two paces, you fire your revolver, and the bullet sinks into his skull. Brain matter and blood spatter across the carpet. The pain sets in as Albert helps you to your feet and hands you a handkerchief for your bleeding nose. 

There’s no way you could go back out into public like this…

And as always, it seems Albert reads your mind. 

“We’ll escape out the window.” He says and pockets a few documents. 

“Did you get what you need?” You ask, and he nods, his smile tender and warm again.

It makes your heart flutter. 

The two of you escape out the window like Albert had said. Luckily, the carriage was already waiting outside, so you were able to retreat without being seen. 

Mission accomplished. 

You scowl at Mycroft as he reads through your very first report from MI6. 

“It’s a bit lackluster, but everything went according to plan?” He asked, and you huffed. 

“Except for the part where I broke my nose.” You say, your voice slightly garbled from the bandages on your nose. Mycroft simply nods, 

“These things are expected to happen. Be glad it wasn’t anything more serious.” He says, tangles his fingers together, and leans his chin on them. “If you’d like, we can feed the newspapers a story about your and Lieutenant Colonel’s parting of ways. You don’t have to be engaged to him anymore.” He continues, and you freeze. 

Not be engaged anymore? 

“What about Mother and Father? They’ll be furious.” You say absentmindedly, and he cocks his head to the side. 

“Since when have you ever cared what they think?” He says, confusion coloring his tone. You avert your gaze. 

“I’m just saying… I don’t mind taking more missions from you from now on…” You mumble and stare at the carpet. But you can hear the smile in his tone when he speaks next. 

“If that’s what you desire, sister dearest. I’ll let Lieutenant Colonel know of your decision.”

[iridescentflamingo]

Silly stupid idea

You've known the turtles for less than a year and they told you that there's a few weeks in spring they have intense training and cannot have guests. You accept this and ask no questions about it. You're hanging out, playing cards after dinner and chilling. The few weeks are coming soon and you're trying to get more hang time with them.

Splinter enters the kitchen. He watches the five of you play for a bit before getting something out of the cupboards and glancing at the calendar. "Ah, is it already March? Have you boys warned Y/N about those upcoming weeks?"

Leonardo looks up and over to his father, "Yes, we told her about the intense spring training we'll be doing. She knows we'll call her when we're finished."

You glance up and see the brothers exchange looks that are subtle, but you've been getting better at picking up their body language.

Splinter makes a huff in his throat. "Ah, spring training, yes." He comes closer to the table, eyeing Leo's cards. "Training your wrists and testing my patience."

Michelangelo spits soda out of his nose and Donatello chokes on the snacks he was eating. You look around confused. Leo scrambles and quickly adds, "Yeah, Sensei, the weapons training can get pretty serious." He stares his father down, his face trying to remain neutral, but you can see his eyes twitch just slightly.

Splinter makes that huff noise again. It almost sounds like a scoff. "Weapons training, yes." He reaches across the table for a handful of pretzels as Mikey wipes the soda off his cards and Raph pats Donnie's chest.

Splinter munches one as the table gets uncomfortably quiet. He looks over to you. "You know, Raphael and Leonardo almost killed each other one year. I will never forget. It was the beginning of the season and we had just watched a movie. What was it? It had that one actress in it."

Mikey, not thinking, answers, "The Terminator."

"Yes, The Terminator. The action movie about robots with that muscle hero man from Europe. I thought it would be safe, you know, but Leonardo and Raphael got into this huge argument about the actress. Oh, her name was Hampton, something Hampton."

"Linda Hamilton." Mikey corrects. Raph reaches over and socks him in the arm. "Hey!"

"Yes! Linda Hamilton. They got in this huge fight about her and they started to yell and then it turned into a wrestling match and then they started to bellow at each other. Do you remember that, boys?" Splinter chuckled.

Leo and Raph looked mortified, but Mikey was laughing. "Yeah, Don and I had to pry them apart, there was blood everywhere."

"We were fifteen," Leo said through practically gritted teeth, "That was a long time ago, Sensei. We don't do that anymore. Spring training is a lot easier now. We don't get as competitive."

Splinter chuckled again. "Those first seasons were so rough. You boys were all over the place, so angry, so intense, and the smell. Ugh. I am so glad that you are more controlled these days."

"We're not teens anymore, Dad. We know how t' train without fighting about it." Raphael said, adding emphasis on the word train.

Splinter nodded his head, biting into another pretzel, a pensive look on his face. "This is true. You are all grown now, and I only grow older." He patted you on the shoulder as he made his move to depart. "Maybe next year one of you will invite Ms. Y/N to your spring training so that I will enjoy some grand-kids before I die, hmmm?"

As he made his way from the table, you turned and blinked, utterly confused and seeing mortified faces on all four turtles.

@thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @sophiacloud28 @thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch

@tmntngl @avery73 @milykins @adebauchedsloth

@justalotoffanfiction @truffle-reblogs

[kokoch4n3l]

'•.¸♡BUY ME THE MOON࿐ྂ SANO "MIKEY" MANJIRO x f!READER

TWO — ribbons in my hair

chapter summary: your world collides with Manjiro's in the shadows of your father's mansion in the woods, where 'innocence' meets cruelty in a dangerous dance

chapter warnings: dark content 18+, inaccurate depiction of politics and political climate, unreliable narrator(reader), corruption, objectification, threatening, loneliness, isolation, gang violence, use of weapons(guns), murder, blood and gore, slight infantilization, kissing, making out, cheating, fingering(f), mentions of masturbation

word count: 9842

masterlist | previous | chapter 3

His voice, deep and gravelly, sends shivers down your spine as it reverberates through the silence of the night. The way he says "princess" makes your heart skip a beat, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You're acutely aware of the heat emanating from his body, the scent of his cologne mingling with the smoke from the bonfire below. It's intoxicating and overwhelming, and you find yourself utterly captivated by this enigmatic man standing before you.

But even as desire flares within you, a voice in the back of your mind whispers a warning. This man, Sano Manjiro, is dangerous. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the aura of power and authority that surrounds him like a cloak. He's not someone to be trifled with, not someone you should be getting involved with. And yet, there's a part of you that's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. But as a cool breeze card through your hair you realize that you've been caught, not just observing the scene below, but also caught off guard by this unexpected intrusion into your secluded world. You try to summon some semblance of composure, but your heart is racing, and your mind is racing even faster, trying to come up with some explanation for why you were spying on the bonfire. "Who are you?" you manage to squeak out, your voice barely above a whisper, even though you know exactly who this man is

Sano Manjiro doesn't answer, just continues to stare at you with those intense eyes of his, as if trying to read your thoughts. You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical presence pressing down on you. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. "What are you doing out here, princess?" Manjiro asks, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.

You bristle at the condescending nickname, but you force yourself to maintain your composure. "I could ask you the same thing," you retort, trying to inject some semblance of authority into your voice.

He smirks, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Touché" he says, his grip on you loosening slightly. 

You take the opportunity to straighten up, pushing away from the railing and crossing your arms defensively across your chest. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on down there?" you ask, nodding towards the bonfire below. "Or am I just supposed to guess?"

He chuckles, the sound sending a strange fluttering sensation through your chest. "Let's just say it's a little... business venture" he replies cryptically, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Business venture, huh? Looks more like a midnight ritual to me," you quip, unable to resist a bit of sass.

He laughs a deep, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Well, you're not entirely wrong," he admits, his smirk widening into a grin. "But I'm afraid that's all you're going to get out of me, princess. Some secrets are better left untold."

You straighten your shoulders, watching as his eyes scan you. He does so quickly as if to not let you know he was checking you out but you catch him anyway. "You didn't tell me what your name is and uh... How do you know today's my birthday...?"

Manjiro walks back inside, scanning the inside of your room. "I have all eyes on Japan, [y/n]. Of course, I know who you are" He picks up your Miffy plushie off your bed "I'm Sano Manjiro..."

His voice trails off as he lifts the plushie, examining it with a faint smirk playing on his lips. You watch him warily, unsure of what to make of this enigmatic man who's suddenly invaded your secluded world. His presence is both intoxicating and intimidating, a dangerous combination that sends your heart racing and your mind spinning. "Sano Manjiro" you repeat, the name rolling off your tongue, feigning disbelief 

You know him obviously but earlier you just had to pretend not to know who he was just by glancing at his face. Everyone in Japan knows him. He was the leader of Bonten, the most powerful gang in the country, a man feared and respected in equal measure. And now, he's standing in your bedroom, holding your plushie like it's the most natural thing in the world. You shake your head slightly, trying to shake off the surrealness of the situation. "What do you want?" you ask, your voice coming out sharper than you intended. 

You're not used to feeling so out of control, so vulnerable. But with Manjiro, it's like he's stripped away all your defences, leaving you exposed and powerless. Feeling like that is something you do not like because money can't fix it. Manjiro's gaze flickers up to meet yours, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I want to talk," he says simply, his voice low and gravelly. "I want to know why the president's daughter is spying on my men."

You bristle at the accusation, feeling a surge of indignation rise within you. "I wasn't spying," you protest, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I was just... curious."

Manjiro raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Curious, huh?" he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, you certainly have a strange way of satisfying your curiosity, princess."

You flush even deeper, feeling a surge of frustration at his patronizing tone. "I'm not a child," you snap, your voice coming out sharper than you intended. "And I don't appreciate being talked down to."

Manjiro's smirk widens, a hint of challenge flashing in his eyes. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Well, forgive me for assuming. After all, you are the president's little secret, aren't you?"

You bristle at the mention of your status as the president's hidden daughter, feeling a surge of anger bubbling up inside you. "That's none of your business," you snap, your voice tinged with defiance. "And neither is what I do in my own home."

Manjiro's gaze darkens, his expression unreadable. "Everything that happens in Japan is my business," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Including what goes on in the president's secret mansion."

You swallow hard, feeling a surge of fear coursing through your veins. You know you're outmatched, outgunned. But you refuse to let Manjiro intimidate you. You may be the president's secret daughter, but you're no pushover. Fuck, Sano Manjiro isn't supposed to know who you are. Nobody is. It's the first time in your life that someone knows who you are and it's damn scary. You don't like this at all no matter how hot Sano Manjiro is. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "But I have nothing to say to you."

Manjiro's smirk widens into a full-blown grin, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "We'll see about that," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "We'll see."

You watch as he tugs at the ears of your plushie. "You're not supposed to know who I am..." you say after a moment of silence

It's right then that his smile fades. His demeanour turns cold. Manjiro carelessly throws your plushie back on the bed and steps closer to you once again. He's close, too close in your personal space. "Your father is president now, [y/n]."

His words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the dangerous game being played. Your pulse quickens, fear and anger warring within you. "What does that have to do with me?" you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manjiro's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing through you. "It means you're a valuable asset," he replies, his tone icy. "And in my world, valuable assets are either protected or exploited."

You feel a chill run down your spine at his words. The reality of your situation crashes down on you, the weight of your father's position and the danger it brings now painfully clear. It's only about 12:35 am, 35 minutes since your father became president and this hot motherfucker is already threatening you. "are you threatening me?" you ask him

Perhaps the rush of emotions you had earlier quickly faded after realizing that this situation is something that you shouldn't be in no matter how much you fantasize about it— no matter how much you've romanticized Sano Manjiro. Earlier when he had you pressed against the dark railing of your balcony, you were no better than those girls online fantasizing about Bonten and the rest of its top executives. But perhaps you were the lucky one to be able to see Sano Manjiro's face in person since there is not one picture of him online. Manjiro's gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. "Call it what you will," he says, his voice cold and indifferent. "But remember this, [y/n]. You may be the president's secret daughter, but you're not untouchable. You're not invincible. And if you think you can hide away in your little mansion and pretend the world doesn't exist, you're sorely mistaken."

His words cut through you like a knife, a harsh reminder of the harsh reality you've been trying so hard to ignore. You may have grown up sheltered and pampered, but you're not naive. You know the world is a cruel and unforgiving place, especially for someone like you, someone caught in the crosshairs of power and politics. "I've invested a lot of money in your father," he says "I know you're so clearly Saimori's favourite which is why he'll probably continue to let you off the hook but now that's he's president I don't want any kind of slip-ups from you. Stay hidden just like you have before"

"I know that already" You mutter

You're infuriated by him. You don't like the way Manjiro is treating you. It's not the usual admiration or jealousy you're used to by your peers at university. You don't like that he's not kissing the damn ground you're walking on or that he's not seething in jealousy at your perfect appearance. You hate it and you want Sano Manjiro so fucking bad but he's not reacting to you in the way you want him to or in the ways you're used to. Why the hell is he treating you the same way as Kaya?

Like a stain?

A mistake.

You completely change your tone. "You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Sano," You say formally and cross your arms over your chest 

Manjiro's expression remains impassive, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "Is that so, princess?" he says, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism.

You nod, trying to keep your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Yes," you reply, your tone firm and unwavering. "I assure you, I have no intention of causing any trouble for you or your... business ventures."

Manjiro studies you for a long moment, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of your words. Finally, he nods, a hint of approval flickering in his eyes. "Good," he says, his tone softer now, almost... gentle. "Because if you did, well..." He trails off, leaving the threat unspoken but hanging heavy in the air between you.

You swallow hard, feeling a knot of fear tightening in your chest. You may have put on a brave front, but deep down, you know you're no match for someone like Sano Manjiro. He's dangerous, powerful, and utterly unpredictable. And now, you're caught in his web, trapped between your father's position and Manjiro's influence, with no way out. But despite the fear and uncertainty swirling inside you, there's also a strange sense of... excitement. You may not like the way Manjiro is treating you, but there's no denying the magnetic pull he exerts, the intoxicating allure of danger and power. You may be sheltered and naive, but you're not blind. You can see the appeal of someone like Sano Manjiro, someone who defies convention and rules with an iron fist. And deep down, beneath the layers of fear and anger, there's a part of you that's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the pull of his dark charisma.

But for now, you push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. "If there's nothing else, Mr. Sano, I think it's best if you leave," you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.

Manjiro nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns and heads for the door. "Until next time, princess," he says, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine.

And with that, he's gone, leaving you alone in the darkness of your room, your heart still racing and your mind spinning with a thousand questions. What does Manjiro want from you? And more importantly, what are you going to do about it?

One thing is for sure though, another item has just been added to your shopping cart. 

When you woke up the next morning the living room is filled with multiple gift boxes no doubt sent by your father. But it's one that catches your eye. The rest of the boxes are all wrapped in pink wrapping paper with bows but one small box is wrapped in black wrapping paper. You pick that one up first and unwrap it. It's a Vivienne Westwood box. You open the box and find the exact necklace you had been looking at last night, the same that lays idly in your cart because you didn't have enough energy to get up last night and get your father's credit card. It's the Valentina Orb pendant with gold hardware. The red gem in the center glimmers back at you. There is a note in the box too. You unfold it and read:

Happy Birthday Princess —SM

Sano Manjiro's initials are at the end of the note. A surge of conflicting emotions washes over you as you hold the necklace in your hands, the glint of the red gem catching the light. You're both touched and infuriated by the gesture. On one hand, it's a beautiful gift, something you've been eyeing for weeks now. On the other hand, it feels like a reminder of last night, of the encounter with Sano Manjiro that left you feeling shaken and vulnerable.

You toss the note aside, unable to bear the sight of Manjiro's initials staring back at you. Instead, you focus on the necklace, running your fingers over the smooth metal and admiring the intricate design. It's exquisite, a perfect reflection of your Manjiro's wealth and your own desire for luxury.

But as you slip the necklace around your neck, fastening the clasp with trembling fingers, you can't shake the feeling of unease that lingers in the pit of your stomach. What does this gift mean? Is it a peace offering from Manjiro, a way to smooth over the tension between you? Or is it something more sinister,?

You push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the present moment. You have enough on your plate as it is, what with your father's newfound presidency and the looming threat of Manjiro's influence. You can't afford to dwell on what-ifs and maybes, not when there are more pressing matters at hand. With a sigh, you turn your attention to the other gifts scattered around the room. There are designer handbags, expensive perfumes, and even a few pieces of jewelry, all carefully selected by your father to celebrate your birthday. But despite the extravagance of the gifts, there's a hollow emptiness that lingers in the air, a reminder of the loneliness that pervades your secluded existence.

You're celebrating your birthday all alone while your father is out their celebrating his win. 

It's fine though. 

You just turned 20, it's no big deal— not as big as a deal of becoming president. 

It's fine that you're alone. You were an introvert anyway and you liked being by yourself. As you survey the lavish gifts spread out before you, a sense of resignation washes over you. It's not the first time you've spent your birthday alone, and it likely won't be the last. You've grown accustomed to the solitude, to the emptiness that pervades your secluded existence.

But even as you try to convince yourself that you're fine with being alone, a small part of you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. Birthdays are supposed to be a time for celebration, a time to be surrounded by loved ones and showered with affection. Yet here you are, surrounded by material possessions but devoid of any real connection.

You shake your head, banishing those thoughts from your mind. You refuse to let yourself dwell on the loneliness, not when there are more important things to focus on. With a sigh, you begin to tidy up the gifts, carefully placing each one back into its respective box. You may be alone on your birthday, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the gifts your father has bestowed upon you. After all, you deserve to treat yourself every now and then, even if it's just to fill the void left by the absence of genuine companionship.

But there was no time for self-pity right now. The next time your dad came to see you, you had to talk to him about Sano Manjiro and why the hell he knows you exist. He's not supposed to know. No one is. Your father would no doubt be too busy to answer the phone so all you can do is wait.

It was okay though. Nothing would happen to you. Your father won't let that happen and you know it. 

For now, you smile to yourself as you plan your weekly getaway.

You were about 13 the first time you left the mansion for a purpose that wasn't to go to school. The guards, although fucking huge and strong, were stupid as hell and didn't notice you leaving on your bicycle. You live there and know the locations of all the cameras and the blindspots, of course, you know how to get away undetected.  

Every Saturday night, you'd slip out through the back garden, where the dense foliage provided perfect cover, and make your way to the small town beyond the mansion's sprawling grounds.

Today was no different. You pull on a black hoodie, baggy blue jean shorts, and white Nike Air Force 1s, the casual attire starkly contrasting to the designer outfits and silk pyjamas that filled your wardrobe. With your phone and some cash tucked into your pocket, you head for the garden. The cool nighttime breeze fills your lungs as you navigate the familiar path, your heart beating with the thrill of escape. The road to the town from the mansion is empty. No one has any reason to come down that way. Both sides of the road are filled with dense forest with the occasional street light. You have your own little light on the front of your bike too so you're not too afraid of the dark. You were grown up and the dark was the last thing you had to fear. 

As you ride your bike, the wind whips through your hair and you smile. You've been doing this for years and it was fun(sometimes you wonder how much more fun these bike rides would be if you had a few friends with you like in those coming-of-age movies). The thought of friends joining you on these clandestine escapades lingers in your mind as you pedal harder, the landscape blurring past. It's a fantasy you've entertained more than once, imagining a group of friends laughing and riding alongside you, sharing stories and secrets under the cover of night. But for now, the solitude of your solitary journey brings a strange sense of freedom and peace.

Tonight for some odd reason, the town seems... empty. Of course, it usually was empty anyway considering there was nothing else ahead for miles except for forestry but, it was a little odd. It was never this quiet all the years you had been coming here. Oh well, you shrug and get off your bike, locking it into the bike rack you usually do. You push the odd sense of emptiness from your mind and continue towards your destination—a small, noodle place that stays open late. It's your usual spot, a place where you can blend in with the locals and enjoy a moment of normalcy away from the confines of the mansion. As you walk down the familiar streets, the quietness feels almost eerie, but you convince yourself it's just your imagination playing tricks on you.

You approach the noodle place, the warm, savoury scent wafting out as you push open the door. The small bell above the entrance chimes, a familiar sound that always makes you feel welcomed. Despite the unusual quietness outside, the inside of the noodle shop feels just as cozy as always. You slide into your usual booth by the window, glancing around to see only a few patrons scattered throughout the restaurant. As you wait for your order, you watch the steam rise from the bowls of ramen being served to other customers, the sound of quiet chatter and clinking utensils creating a comforting ambiance. You pull out your phone, absentmindedly scrolling through social media while your mind drifts back to the events of the previous night. Manjiro's unexpected presence, his cryptic warnings, and that beautiful necklace that sits on your clavicle all swirl in your thoughts.

It's about at that time the door chimes again and this time a bigger group enters. You pull the hood of your hoodie over your head and slouch a little in the booth just in case it is some of your father's men. You don't turn around to look at the group nor do you make it seem you're out of place. You simply sit there silently. It wasn't like they'd recognize you without your fancy pyjamas or clothing anyway. The group behind you laughs loudly, acting rowdy as all men do. 

A bowl of hot ramen is placed in front of you, snapping you back to the present. You thank the server and dig in, savouring the rich flavours and the simple pleasure of a meal enjoyed in peace. The warmth of the broth and the familiarity of the routine help ease some of the tension that's been building up inside you.

As you finish eating it is then you hear a familiar voice that makes the whole group shut up. "his first daughter is a snake, the illegitimate one is nothing more than a spoiled puppy"

Oh. 

Oh shit.

It wasn't your father's stupid 2-brain-celled men. It was Sano-fucking-Manjiro and his men. That should be nothing to worry about but there is this voice deep in your head telling you that you couldn't get caught by him— that it would prove to be fatal. You pull out a black medical mask you always kept in your pocket for emergencies and put it on then tug your hood further down. You had to be careful and be quick. "ready for the bill, dear?" the owner asks as you walk over with the empty bowl

You nod as the elderly woman takes the bowl and sets it aside for the men washing the dishes. You silently pull out the wad of cash in your pocket flick through it for the amount and hand it over to her. Just as she's about put it in the register, yelling from Sano Manjiro's group starts and you hear a click, that makes the entire group and noodle shop go silent. Hesitantly, you turn your head in the direction of the sound and that's when you see a gun pressed to Sano Manjiro's temple. 

Your breath catches in your throat, and you instinctively shrink back, trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. The tension in the room is palpable, the air heavy with the threat of violence. Your heart races as you watch the scene unfold, your mind whirring with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Manjiro's reaction is unsettlingly calm. His expression remains neutral, his eyes cold and calculating as he stares down the barrel of the gun. The man holding the weapon is clearly nervous, his hand trembling slightly as he tries to maintain his composure. 

At that moment, a fight breaks out. The owner grabs you by the arm and pulls you behind the counter, shielding you with her frail body. You try to protest but she just hushes you and holds you tighter. The man washing the dishes also ducks as the first bullet goes off. You're shaking and ears are ringing at the loud bangs. You huddle behind the counter, your heart pounding in your chest as the chaos unfolds around you. The sound of gunfire reverberates through the small noodle shop, mingling with the shouts and screams of the patrons. You can feel the elderly woman's grip tighten on your arm. Peeking out from behind the counter, you see Manjiro moving with a predatory grace, effortlessly disarming his attackers and turning the gun on them. The man who had dared to threaten him is now at his mercy, barely alive on the floor as Manjiro towers over him, his expression as cold and unyielding as ever. "Pathetic," Manjiro spits, his voice low and menacing. "You think you can challenge me and live to tell the tale?"

The man's response is a choked sob, his bravado completely shattered. The shop has blood splattered on the walls and multiple men either dead or barely alive. The other paterons in the shop are under tables, trembling, fearing for their lives. The atmosphere in the noodle shop is charged with fear and tension. You remain crouched behind the counter, the elderly woman still clutching your arm, her frail body shielding you from the violence erupting around you. Your mind races, grappling with the sudden turn of events and the realization that you are in the presence of Sano Manjiro, a man far more dangerous than you had ever imagined.

Manjiro's men quickly subdue the rest of the attackers, efficiently neutralizing the threat. The sound of gunfire ceases, replaced by the heavy breathing and muffled cries of the wounded. You feel a surge of relief as the immediate danger passes, but it is quickly replaced by a new wave of anxiety. You know you need to escape before Manjiro notices you, but the fear of drawing attention to yourself keeps you rooted to the spot. "alright boys, round up the witnesses" A smooth deep voice says

You put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from letting out a sound. shit. "oh c'mon stop crying" Another voice says "we ain't gon' kill ya'. Just gonna have a nice talk"

Your heart races as you hear the voices of Manjiro's men, their footsteps approaching the counter where you're hiding. The elderly woman holding you trembles, her grip tightening as she whispers, "Stay still, dear. Don't move."

Panic surges through you, but you force yourself to stay calm. You can hear the men moving through the shop, pulling out the other patrons from their hiding spots. Your mind races, trying to think of a way out. The door to the kitchen is just a few feet away—if you can make it there, you might have a chance to slip out the back and escape. Just as you're about to make your move, the counter above you is abruptly yanked away, and you're staring up into the cold, dark eyes of one of Manjiro's men. He grabs your arm, yanking you to your feet and pulling you out from behind the counter. The elderly woman cries out in protest, but she's quickly silenced by a sharp glare. "Look what we have here," the man holding you says, a smirk playing on his lips. "A little mouse hiding in the shadows."

You struggle against his grip, but it's no use. He's too strong, and your attempts to break free only make him tighten his hold. The man has slightly feminine feautres downturned droopy lilac eyes and his hair is fashioned in a striped pattern dyed in the colors of purple and blond tied back in a ponytail. He tugs at the medical mask and rips it off your face. "huh. Everyone else here is old except you" The man murmurs then calls out "Mikey, what do we do with the depressed university student"

Manjiro was probably behind you. He hasn't seen your face yet. Maybe you had a chance to get out of this without him seeing you. "Wakasa, that's my depressed university student" Manjiro says in a nonchalant tone

Or not...

You freeze at the sound of Manjiro's voice, your heart pounding in your chest as you slowly turn to face him. His gaze pierces through you, cold and calculating, as if he can see right through the facade you've carefully constructed. Panic surges through you, but you force yourself to maintain a calm exterior, refusing to let him see how rattled you truly are. Wakasa releases his grip on you, allowing you to step away from him. You keep your eyes trained on the floor, avoiding Manjiro's penetrating gaze as you silently curse yourself for getting caught in this mess. You should have been more careful, more vigilant. Oh you shouldn't have even come here tonight, birthday or not. Shit shit shit. Manjiro grabs the front of your hoodie and you stumble forward, a choked gasp leaving your lips. "you guys finish up here" Manjiro says to his men and literally drags you out the shop by the front of your hoodie

Your heart races as Manjiro pulls you out of the shop, his grip firm and unyielding. You stumble forward, struggling to keep up with his long strides as he leads you away from the chaos behind you. The cool night air hits you like a slap in the face, a sharp contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside the noodle shop. You can feel Manjiro's eyes boring into you, his gaze burning into your skin as he assesses you with a scrutiny that sends shivers down your spine.

You're acutely aware of the danger you're in, the precariousness of your situation now that you're alone with Manjiro. But even as fear courses through your veins, there's also a strange sense of exhilaration, a rush of adrenaline that heightens your senses and sharpens your awareness. You know you should be terrified of him, should be doing everything in your power to escape his grasp. And yet, there's a part of you that's drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. As Manjiro leads you further away from the noodle shop, you can't help but wonder what he plans to do with you. Is he going to interrogate you, threaten you, or worse? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more terrifying than the last. But as you steal a glance at his profile, you can't help but notice the faintest hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips, as if he's enjoying the thrill of the chase.

You push those thoughts aside, forcing yourself to focus on the present moment. You need to stay alert, stay composed, if you have any hope of getting out of this alive. With a steadying breath, you square your shoulders and meet Manjiro's gaze head-on, refusing to show any sign of weakness. He leads you to a sleek black car parked just down the street, opening the door and gesturing for you to get in. You hesitate for a moment, the instinct to run screaming at the back of your mind. But you know there's no escaping Manjiro, not now. With a resigned sigh, you slide into the backseat of the car, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as Manjiro settles in beside you. "what are you wearing?" Manjiro asks after a moment of silence

There's no one else in car. Just the both of them. The windows are tinted so no one can look in. "clothes" you manage to say, sucking in uneven breaths as your heart refuses to calm itself

Honestly speaking, it made sense for Manjiro to be asking that question. Manjiro leans over and pulls your hood off your head. "[y/n]" he murmurs your name, the look on his face cold "what the hell are you doing out here?"

"I... I just needed some fresh air," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't cause any trouble... I was having noodles"

Manjiro's eyes bore into yours, his expression unreadable. "Do you think I believe that?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous. "You know the risks, and yet you still choose to sneak out in the dead of night."

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breathing so you don't lash out at him. Sano Manjiro is not one of your father's guards so you can't yell at him as you please. "I do this every week... I... Nothing has ever happened and it's literally a 20-minute bike ride away from the mansion!"

Manjiro's gaze does not soften at all neither does his grip get any looser. "Your father's position makes you a target," he says, his tone still commanding, making you feel sick "Do you have any idea what could happen to you if the wrong people find out who you are?"

"I know," you admit, your voice barely a whisper. "But no one has. Not here. I've been coming here since I was 13!"

Manjiro releases your arm and leans back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Freedom comes with a price," he says after a moment of silence "And right now, you can't afford it."

You feel a surge of frustration and defiance rising within you. "What about you?" you retort, your voice gaining strength. "You talk about risks and dangers, but you live your life on your own terms. Why can't I?"

Manjiro's expression hardens again, a flicker of something dark and intense passing through his eyes. "Because I'm not the president's daughter and I am supposed to exist unlike you"

The silence that follows is heavy and oppressive, the weight of his words settling over you like a shroud. ow ow ow. Your chest hurts. You don't like the way he's talking to you or the way he's looking at you. It's not fucking fair that he's being like this when you couldn't stop thinking about him all day. Why is he being so mean? Suddenly you're 5 years old again at your mother's funeral, silently listening to 10-year-old Kaya spew bullshit to you, saying things like "You should've died with her", "Daddy would have been happier if you were gone too", "my mommy says you're a mistake... not supposed to exist"

You look right at Manjiro with eyes full of anger. "You don't get to talk to me like that"

Manjiro's eyes narrow at your defiant words, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. The car's confined space feels even smaller as you both lock eyes, each refusing to back down. He lets out a low, humourless chuckle, leaning in closer until his face is just inches from yours. "Oh, I don't?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then who does? Your father? Those guards who barely pay attention to what you're doing? You think you're invincible because you've gotten away with it so far. But you're playing a dangerous game, [Y/N]."

You're about to open your mouth to say something but he cuts you off once again. "I know more about the world you live in than you ever will. Your father's position, the enemies he has, the threats you face—none of it is a game. You think sneaking out and playing at being normal is harmless, but it's not. It's reckless. And if someone were to figure out just who you are, do you have any idea the chaos it would cause?" Manjiro hisses angrily "All of my fucking money, all my years of hard work down to fucking waste

You bristle at his words, the unfairness of your situation crashing down on you. All Sano Manjiro cares about is his stupid ass money— the money he invested into the election. Nothing else. You still have no idea just why your father would even tell this man the location of the mansion and why he became 'business partners' with him when there were so many other rich men in Japan. Your father was a very charismatic man so he wouldn't have any trouble getting investors. So why the hell did it have to be Sano-fucking-Manjiro? Oh man did you have a bone to pick with your father. "So what am I supposed to do?" you snap. "Stay locked up in that mansion forever? Pretend like I don't exist? Is that what you want?"

Without missing a beat he responds "Yes"

Your heart aches even more. The word hangs heavy in the air, its simplicity carrying the weight of your predicament. You clench your fists, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes but refusing to let them fall. You won't give Manjiro the satisfaction of seeing you break. "Why are you even here?" you demand, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. "Why do you care what I do? You said it yourself, I'm just a spoiled puppy."

Manjiro's expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something almost imperceptible passing through his eyes before his steely mask is back in place. He leans back in the seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. "I care because your father and I have an understanding," he says finally, his voice calmer but no less authoritative. "Your safety is part of that understanding. If anything happens to you or people find out you exist, it creates problems neither of us can afford."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "So it's all just business to you," you mutter, more to yourself than to him. "Just another transaction."

"Everything in our world is a transaction," Manjiro replies coldly. "But don't mistake that for a lack of concern. Your father's enemies would use you against him in a heartbeat. Keeping you safe isn't just about protecting his interests—it's about protecting and hiding you from becoming a pawn in a much larger game."

Your chest tightens with the weight of Manjiro's words. You want to scream at him, to tell him how unfair this all is, but deep down, you know he's right. The reality of your situation, the fragility of your existence, is something you can't ignore. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "Fine," you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll stay out of trouble. Just take me back home."

Manjiro studies you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if assessing your sincerity. You expect him to call one of his men over to drive but instead, he says "You're upset..."

"I'm not" You deny, just wanting this to be over already

You press yourself against the door, wanting to make some space between you and Manjiro and look out the window. You don't like how this night turned out. Moving your gaze from the window to your sneakers, your eye twitches at the sight of blood splattered on the white material, probably from stepping in a puddle of it inside the shop. If you weren't annoyed and irritated before you sure are now. You look back outside the window. As the car remains still, the quiet between you and Manjiro grows tense. He lets out a sigh, perhaps sensing your genuine frustration and sorrow. His demeanour shifts slightly, the hard edges of his persona softening just a touch. He moves in closer, sitting on the center seat. "hey, look at me" Manjiro doesn't give you much of a choice as he grabs your chin and makes you face him and his grip, while firm, isn't as rough as before. 

You find yourself staring into his eyes, those dark pools that hold so many secrets and dangers. His expression is softer now, almost gentle, and for a brief moment, you glimpse the boy behind the ruthless facade. His dark eyes trail down your face to your neck and settle on the piece of jewelry you're wearing. Very briefly, a look of surprise flashes over his face. It was like he hadn't expected you to wear the necklace he gifted. There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of confusion or perhaps curiosity before his features once again settle into their usual mask of composure. You feel a surge of self-consciousness under his scrutiny. "I didn't mean to make you so upset, sweet girl" He murmurs and suddenly he's too close

Manjiro's hand slides up from your chin to your cheek, cradling it in the way you've been wanting him to from the beginning. Finally, finally, he's looking at you the way you want and not the way Kaya and her mother look at you. Oh, fucking god did it feel good. It felt so good you were tearing up. Tears blur your vision, and you hate how vulnerable you feel in this moment. But there's something in Manjiro's touch, something almost tender that makes it impossible to pull away. His thumb gently brushes away a stray tear, his touch surprisingly soothing. "so how'd you get all the way here, hm?" Manjiro asks, his voice low but no longer sounding cold

Your hands tremble in your lap. Finally, Manjiro is talking to you the way you wanted him to. "I-I rode my bike..." you say and Manjiro smiles

"oh you did?" he murmurs as his thumb rubs against your cheekbone "The mansion is far from here. How long did it take you?"

"20 minutes"

He's speaking to you in this oddly condescending tone but for some reason, it sounds nice. You like it. It's 100 times better than the way he was speaking to you earlier. "20 minutes? oh poor baby, hm. You rode your little bike this far just to get away from that house..." Manjiro whispers and now you can feel his breath against your cheek

Your lips quiver. He's close, really close. "were you lonely?" He asks softly "You didn't want to spend your birthday locked away, did you?"

Your lips quiver. He's close, really close. "Were you lonely?" he asks softly. "You didn't want to spend your birthday locked away, did you?"

The words sting because they're true. You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "No... I didn't," you admit, your voice barely a whisper.

Manjiro's hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair. "You should've told me," he says, his breath warm against your skin. "I would have come to get you."

You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. "I don't have your number" 

He chuckles and the sound makes your stomach drop in the same way it would when a rollercoaster goes down. "I put my number on the back of the note, sweet girl. You didn't see it?"

Your eyes widen in realization. The note—how had you missed it? You shake your head, feeling foolish and more vulnerable than ever. "I-I didn't... I didn't see it," you stammer, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Manjiro's chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, as he continues to cradle your head in his hand. "Well, now you know," he says, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "Next time, you can just call me."

The promise in his words, the implication of a next time, fills you with a strange mix of relief and anticipation. You nod, unable to find the words to respond. Manjiro's touch, his presence, is overwhelming in the best way possible. He's no longer being mean, no longer talking to you in the same way Kaya and your stepmother do and you feel so much better. "I'm sorry for getting mad at you, sweet girl... I had no reason to talk to you like that. You just came here to eat" Manjiro whispers, his voice sounding so soft it tugs at your heart "Instead you saw some... unsavoury things... I'm sorry"

He was talking about the people that died in the shop. You hadn't even paid attention or even remembered what just happened in the shop. You had been too focused on him after all. "let me make it up to you, hm" And before you know it, his lips are on yours

You've been kissed before— many times actually. Mostly in middle and high school though. A very memorable kiss was in 10th grade when you kissed the crush of a girl that was trying to spread rumours about you. The kiss itself hadn't been memorable but the look on the girl's face after you pulled away from her crush was priceless. This kiss, however, is memorable. The way Manjiro cradles your face like you're something precious, how his lips lock with yours— so memorable. 

The kiss is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire in your veins. It's a slow burn, filled with a tenderness you hadn't expected from someone like Sano Manjiro. His lips move against yours with a skill that speaks of experience, but there's something gentle and tentative about the way he kisses you as if he's afraid of breaking you. You respond eagerly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours, the world outside the car fading into insignificance. All that matters is this moment. It feels like a lifetime since you've felt this close to someone, this seen and understood. And as the kiss deepens, the heat between you building with each passing second, you realize that you never want it to end.

With absolute ease, Manjiro slides his tongue into your mouth and you think your head might explode or already did. His tongue slides against your and you practically fall slack against the car door you were leaning up against. Manjiro tilted his head and deepened the kiss further, licking into your mouth, groaning in satisfaction.

Manjiro's mouth captured your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before his teeth sunk into the bruised pink flesh. The sting of the bite drew out a delicious whimper from you but Manjrio wasn't satisfied with stopping there. He pressed on immediately, licking into your mouth with filthy flicks of his tongue, devouring any stray sound that escaped. So caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, you hadn't even realized Manjiro had unbuttoned your jean shorts and was already slipping his hand instead after undoing the zipper. Due to your shorts being a bit baggy, he has a lot more room to move his hand around than expected. You don't even realize that Manjir's got his hand down your shorts till his fingers brush against your pubic bone. "h-hm?" your eyes fly open and he pulls away slightly from you

"shhh~" Manjiro simply hushes, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and his middle finger brushes against your clit making your hips jolt "Lemme make it up to you baby"

His fingers dip lower to your already wet hole and you feel his lips stretch into a smile against your cheek. Oh, this was slightly embarrassing you had gotten wet from simply making out with him. His finger dips slightly into your entrance before coming back up to your clit and coating the sensitive bud in your slick. You whimper weakly, eyes falling shut as he rubs little figure 8s on your little nub. "w-wait Manjiro" you choke out weakly

"yeah, baby?" He asks, lips still pressed against your cheek

A single finger dips inside your hole and you gasp at the feeling, hand scrambling to hold onto something— anything. It's right when your hands grasp at his biceps you remember "I-I'm a virgin"

To your surprise, Manjiro laughs softly. "Hmm? No wonder you got wet so easy baby"

A second finger slides in and your eyes fall shut again. You're gasping, whimpering and moaning out his name and Manjiro just watches all your expressions intently as his fingers work in your hole and on your clit. You've never felt this way before. Yes, you have touched yourself but it has never felt as good as this. When you touch yourself your simple goal is getting off and having that release you need. Manjiro on the other hand, was going slow compared to your fast needy movements when you're on your own. His fingers feel different too. They're thicker and longer than yours and for some reason, the roughness of his skin feels so good too. "Ma-Manjiro" you whine softly

Oh, you wanted to beg him to go faster but you have a feeling he wouldn't even if you did. "feels s'good doesn't it?" Manjiro murmurs as you open your eyes, meeting his

You nod frantically, crushing the material of his suit jacket in your hands. "f-feels g-good" 

He's stroking your clit so slowly it's almost torturous but it feels so good that your eyes roll back. "Oh it does feel good" Manjiro croons, his fingers inside you curling upwards and your hips jolt again

You're breathing heavily, muscles tensing and relaxing constantly as he's slowly bringing you over to the edge. "Manjiro~" you whimper out again, unable to stay still

Your head tips back against the glass and Manjiro takes that chance to press kisses along the column of your throat. You sigh, whimpering out his name over and over like a prayer. You've never been touched like this before and you sure as hell haven't touched yourself in the same way he is right now. A coil tightens in your lower belly as after what feels like hours you're brought to the edge. "'Jiro... 'm gon' cum" You whine, thighs trembling and eyes shutting tight

"go ahead, sweet girl," Manjiro says "Come for me"

Your back arches against the door of the car and a choked sob leaves your lips. Your vision turns a blinding white as his fingers keep stroking your clit, drawing out your orgasm till you're gasping and whimpering from the slight pricks of pain that start. Manjiro is murmuring encouraging words into your ears, guiding you through the fog in your head as you come down from your orgasm. "there we go... felt good, didn't it?"

You don't answer as he slides his hand out of your shorts. You're breathing shaky and heavy as he's zipping your shorts back up and buttoning it up again. He pulls away from you and reaches over to the front and gets a tissue, wiping off his fingers. You're still shaking, thighs twitching. First time in your life you've come so damn hard. "hey, you 'kay?" Manjiro asks as he fixes your hair

It feels like your skin is overheating now that you've come down from the afterglow of your orgasm. You nod weakly, unable to really get your words out. His hands come up to run through your hair, fixes the messy strands before they come down to the end of your hoodie. "let's get this off" he says "you're burning up"

You shake your head no. "'m not wearing anything under it"

Manjiro's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Is that so?" he says, his voice low and teasing. "Well, isn't that interesting?"

Heat rushes to your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission, but the look in Manjiro's eyes makes it hard to feel anything but anticipation. There's a playful glint in his gaze, a hint of something more that sends a shiver down your spine. You feel even hotter now. "don't worry, sweet girl, we'll turn on the air conditioner and take you home... It's been a long night"

You exhale, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment at his words. Manjiro's hands remain steady at the hem of your hoodie, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "You sure you don't want to take it off?" he murmurs, his voice still carrying that playful tone.

You shake your head again, feeling a strange blend of shyness and defiance. "Not here," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Manjiro chuckles softly, his fingers gently trailing up your sides, sending a shiver through your body. "Alright, alright," he concedes, his touch lingering for a moment longer before he finally pulls away. "We'll save that for another time, then."

He tugs you into his side and then pulls out his phone. You don't see who he texts but as soon as he does, the car doors unlock and two men enter, both sitting in the front seats. Instinctively you press yourself into his side, wanting to hide away from them. "Sanzu turn the air conditioner on" Manjiro's voice turns back to a cold tone as the pink-haired man in the driver seat starts the car

"will do boss, little princess probably needs it" The man, Sanzu, says and your face heats up even more

Manjiro's arm tightens around you protectively, a silent assurance that you're safe with him. The car's engine hums to life, and soon the cool air of the air conditioner washes over you, providing a much-needed relief from the heat that had built up in the cramped backseat. You glance up at Manjiro, his expression now a mask of calm and control as he gives instructions to the men in the front. His demeanour has shifted, the playful teasing replaced by a serious, almost authoritative air. It's a reminder of the world he operates in, a world you're only just beginning to understand.

You feel exhausted, so sleepy after Manjiro touched you like that. Your eyes fall shut and before you know it, you fall asleep.

There are a lot of things you want to ask Manjiro, a lot of which you know you will get no answers to. However, there is one thing you have figured out just from his obvious distaste of your outfit.

He likes you better with ribbons in your hair.

[END SCENE]

"she doesn't know..." Kakucho says lowly as he looks back at your sleeping form in Manjiro's arms in the back seat

Manjiro furrows his brows. "about what?"

"About you and Kaya being engaged," Kakucho continues, his voice quiet but firm. 

He glances at Manjiro, the weight of the words hanging heavily in the air. Manjiro's expression hardens for a moment, his jaw tightening. He looks down at you, peaceful and oblivious in your sleep, nestled against him. The contrast between the tenderness he feels for you and the cold reality of his arranged engagement to Kaya is stark. He hadn't wanted to think about it, hadn't wanted to acknowledge the complications that come with his world, but now it's staring him in the face. "She doesn't need to know," Manjiro says finally, his voice monotonous as usual "Not yet, anyway."

"and here I thought you couldn't get any worse" Sanzu says with a grin as he turns onto the secluded road up to the mansion "You're engaged to her step sister and you just got frisky with her in the backseat"

Manjiro’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t respond immediately to Sanzu’s taunt. Instead, he gently strokes your hair, his expression a look of contemplation. "It's complicated," he finally mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Complicated?" Sanzu snorts, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "That's one way to put it."

Kakucho sighs, adjusting his seat to get a better view of both Manjiro and you. "are you using her to get a better hold on Saimori?" He asks

"that would make sense if you were" Sanzu continues Kakucho's words "fuck around with his favourite daughter. It's pretty obvious why he got you engaged to Kaya and not... this spoiled puppy"

Manjiro's grip on you tightens momentarily, his jaw clenched as he listens to Sanzu's words. The accusation hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world is pressing down on him. He knows the truth behind his engagement to Kaya, the political motivations, the alliances it's meant to secure. "Partially" Manjiro confirms "It's partially that"

Sanzu lets out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, ain't that just peachy," he mutters, his tone laced with sarcasm "My mass murderer childhood friend with the country under his boot likes a spoiled puppy"

Manjiro's gaze flickers with a hint of irritation at Sanzu's words, but he remains composed, his focus shifting back to the road ahead. "Watch your mouth, Sanzu," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "You know what happens to those who disrespect me."

Sanzu chuckles, unfazed by the threat. "Relax, boss," he says, his tone light despite the tension in the air. "I'm just calling it like I see it."

Kakucho leans forward, his expression serious. "Mikey, you know this can't end well," he says, his voice a low murmur.

Manjiro simply holds you tighter to his side. "We're playing a bigger game now. We've got the president under our thumb and she's just extra precaution. A safety net. If Shinichi Saimori tries something, things will fall on his daughter that isn't supposed to exist"

Manjiro's words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the ruthless world he navigates. The implications of his actions, the weight of his choices, are a burden he carries with a stoic resolve. As the car winds its way up the secluded road to the mansion, the silence between them is thick with unspoken tension. Kakucho watches Manjiro closely, concern etched into his features. "You're playing a dangerous game, Mikey," he says, his voice filled with a mix of caution and apprehension. "Bringing her into this... it could end badly."

Manjiro's jaw tightens, his gaze fixed ahead as he steels himself against the doubts that threaten to surface. "I know what I'm doing, Kakucho," he replies, his tone clipped and unwavering. "I can handle it."

Of course, they believe him. It's been years. They know Manjiro could handle it.

You, he knows what to do with, he's still yet to decide how to handle his hoe of a fiancé.

notes: oof well... I hope this chapter was better than the first. I was fighting for my life writing that sad excuse of a smut scene 😭

I hope you enjoyed tho.

check here for progress on the next chapter. Also if the content warnings for the next chapter are already up on the series masterlist, that means that chapter has already been written. Dates that I plan to post chapters are on the series masterlist as well.

likes, asks, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

taglist: @m-ilkiee @reiners-milkbiddies @short-cxke @brisssaaa009 @tenjikusstuff4

@asirensrage @merrymerrykiss @fushiquro @iwasei @kiwixpi @mysouleaten @luminouslaybyrinth @maraya-007 @dolfiins-art @yuyu12mm @kodzubaby @zantetsuwu @hayatisyourlife @bachiraslvr @bontensbabygirl

[umbrella-show]

Solo Mission

Platonic Yan Rottmnt x Sibling Reader

“No. And that’s final.” Raph sternly determined, looking down at you with crossed arms and a frown. “I barely let Mikey go out on his own mission. But you? Not in a million years.” “Why?!” You outrageously exclaimed, obviously upset by the stubbornness of your older brother. “I know how to take care of myself!-” “No. You don’t.” Raph interrupted you, “you don’t know how to fight. You don’t know how to defend yourself-” “Yes I do!” You took out your own weapons, your kunai knives. Small sharp throwing knives you used to defend yourself. Your brothers begrudgingly gave you a weapon to defend yourself, after you begged for one, making the compelling argument of possibly needing something to defend yourself with when they weren’t around.

“I helped you guys with Meat Sweats, Hypno, Big Mama, AND Draxum. I can handle a solo mission!” “What’s going on over here?” You and Raph looked over to see Leo, leaning on the wall and looking over at you and Raph in puzzlement. “Lunch is also ready by the way. Mikey made lasagna.” At the mention of his name, Mikey’s head peeked over from the next room where the kitchen was. “Food’s ready!” Raph let out a huff from his nose, looking back at you with narrowed eyes, his decision unwavering. “No solo missions. Not until you’re ready.” You scoffed, watching as he walked away to the kitchen, Leo shortly following after him giving you one last curious glance. You already knew he would ask Raph about your argument while you weren’t there, which made you even more irritated. You weren't a defenseless child. You knew how to use your weapons. You could totally complete a solo mission all by yourself, without your brother’s help. It enraged you how many times you had brought up the possibility of a solo mission to any of your brothers, and they all shot it down with the only argument being ‘you’re not ready.’

“You alright?” You looked up at Mikey, your cranky mood slipping as your face softened towards him. You let out a sigh, feeling the anger lingering. “I’m gonna eat lunch in my room.” You muttered, walking past him without another word. You went to the kitchen, wordlessly grabbing a plate from the cabinets. Raph and Leo were there as well, and you shivered as you felt them glance at you. You heard fragments of their conversation, quiet whispers from mostly Leo. You sent them a glare while they weren’t looking. You knew they were talking about you, and your previous anger sparked up again. You made sure to be extra loud, closing the cabinets with a thud and quickly scooping a portion of Mikey’s homemade lasagna on your plate before storming to your room. Your feet slightly stomped against the floor, speed walking to your place of comfort.

You threw the curtains, which acted as the door to your safe space, closed once you entered. You sat on your bed with your head laying in your palm. You honestly weren’t even hungry at the moment, Raph’s words annoyingly repeating itself like a broken record in your mind. He would never let you go on your own mission in a million, he had said, you weren’t ready. You put the plate of food on your bedside table, afraid you might somehow break it out of anger if you held it any longer. Today, you would prove your brothers wrong, you decided. You would go on your own solo mission and come back, unscathed. ‘But what would the mission even be?’ you thought, looking around your room and hoping to gain some kind of idea as to what you could do.

Your eyes landed on a framed photo on your desk, your whole family, including you, smiling at the camera happily. That picture was taken before New York was filled with dangerous mutants. Before your brother’s forbid you to go outside of the lair alone. Your eyes landed on your father, suddenly gaining an idea as to what you could do on your solo mission. You bolted out of your room, running through the kitchen and ignoring all the confused glances from your brothers as you sprinted to your dad’s room.

“Dad!” You suddenly yelled, starting him and almost making him drop his snack. “Green! You almost made me drop my hot soup!” “Sorry, dad.” You apologized quietly, glancing back at the door connecting the room to the kitchen and making sure your brothers couldn’t hear you. You scratched the back of your neck. “I was wondering if you needed me to run any errands for you on the surface.” “Errands?” Your father suspiciously questioned, and you prayed he wouldn’t be as protective as your brothers. “Yeah! Like, do you need me to pick up any snacks or food for the kitchen.” Splinter hummed, scratching his chin. “Well, I could go for some cake right now. And I’m on my last slice at the moment.” “I can get you a fresh one from the bakery! I-It’s not far from here.” “Hm. I suppose it would be nice. Thank you, Green.” “Your welcome, dad!” You hastily yelled, speeding out of the living room and the kitchen.

Your excitement from finally leaving the lair to complete your first solo mission was through the roof. Before you knew it, you had already pushed off the manhole that led into your home, with a bit of struggle. Once you made it outside, you put it back into place, running to the streets. You had dressed for the occasion, of course. You wore a baggy hoodie and some baggy pants that hid you hoped hid you well enough.

Your pace slowed as you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around at your surroundings in amazement. It was all the same as when you would go out with your brothers. The same bright lights. The same small amount of people still walking around at such a late time. The same cars that rode through mostly empty streets. But at the same time, it felt so different. It all came with an overwhelming sense of exhilaration and freedom, like you could do whatever you wanted. With that, you happily skipped through the sidewalk, ready to get your dad some fresh cake from the bakery and complete your first ever solo mission.

God, you were going to love rubbing this in your brother's faces.

[one-green-frog]

Hello I have seen your work and I'm quite intrigued with your work its wholesome

By any chance can I request a sano older brother reader that's act like a butler that's always come prepared with stuff that the siblings need like he just pulled out a dorayaki for mikey when he sees him being all gloomy in bonten meetings and just being a good brother he is and taking care of mikey after his other siblings die and also just constantly nag the other bonten members if they did something that's almost caught them

You can ignore this request hope you have a great day and good luck with your other stuff

Unyielding Duty

Platonic Mikey x brother!reader

The Sano household was chaos personified. Shinichiro sat hunched over the dining table, covered in motor grease, tinkering with an old engine part that probably wasn’t worth the effort. Across the room, Emma was locked in a heated argument with Mikey over which cartoon to watch, battling for the remote.

The moment (Y/N) walked in he froze for a moment, scanning the room. His sharp eyes caught the grease streaking the walls, the crumpled wrappers on the floor, and Mikey holding the remote like it was a weapon.

“Mikey,” (Y/N) said, tone sharp enough to slice through the noise. The boy immediately turned, startled by the interruption. Without a word, (Y/N) reached into his pocket and tossed him a wrapped dorayaki. “Eat that and stop arguing. You’ll break the remote, and we don’t have the money to replace it.”

Mikey blinked, then caught the snack midair, a grin spreading across his face. “Thanks, (Y/N)!” he said, his earlier scowl forgotten.

“Not fair!” Emma’s voice shot through the calm. She crossed her arms, glaring at (Y/N). “Why does he get a snack?!”

(Y/N) shifted, setting the tray down and placing a glass of juice in front of her. “Because you, Emma, need this more. Arguing over cartoons won’t get you anywhere.” His tone left no room for negotiation. “Drink up.”

Emma grabbed the glass, muttering under her breath but drinking all the same.

(Y/N) turned to the eldest, who was furiously twisting a bolt into place. “Shinichiro,” he called, the name laced with pointed disapproval. “You’re forcing it. Hand it over before you break something. God knows where you get the strength to destroy everything"

Shinichiro let out a defeated sigh but complied, handing the wrench over. “You’re too bossy, you know that?”

Ignoring him, (Y/N) crouched down, loosening and realigning the bolt in a few smooth movements. “Done. Now stop wrecking things just because you’re impatient. Use your brain.”

“You make it look so easy,” Shinichiro muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“That’s because it is.” Standing up, (Y/N) scanned the room one more time. Mikey was on the couch now, munching on his dorayaki. Emma flipped through her book, and Shinichiro returned to tinkering—but with noticeably more care. The house was finally at peace, at least for the moment.

Shinichiro glanced at him with a crooked grin. “You’re really good at this, you know? You could probably run a company or something.”

(Y/N) snorted quietly. “Someone has to keep this house standing. Now, wash your hands before you spread grease all over the place, dinner is almost ready."

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

The low growl of engines echoed through the empty parking lot. Under the flickering streetlight stood (Y/N), his hands occupied with a thermos and a blanket, his posture as composed as ever. He’d been standing there for some time, but he didn’t so much as shuffle his feet. Waiting wasn’t a problem—it rarely was for him.

Mikey’s bike roared into view first, skidding to a halt just in front of him. The boy swung off with practiced ease, his normally impassive face betraying the faintest hint of exhaustion. Behind him, the rest of Toman parked their bikes haphazardly, their rowdy laughter dying down as they spotted (Y/N).

“Mikey,” (Y/N) greeted, stepping forward. He held the thermos out. “Drink.”

Mikey’s brow furrowed, but he took it anyway, unscrewing the lid. “Hot chocolate?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) said simply. “You’ll sleep better.”

Mikey took a long sip, his stiff shoulders easing slightly. “You didn’t have to come out here.”

(Y/N) ignored the comment, draping a blanket over his shoulders with practiced precision. “You’re running yourself ragged. Rest.”

Behind them, Draken nudged Mitsuya with a grin. “See? He’s not just Mikey’s brother; he’s his babysitter.”

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped to Draken, his sharp gaze cutting through the playful atmosphere. “Draken,” he said coolly. “you want to repeat that?”

Draken froze. “Uh, no.”

(Y/N) gave a curt nod before turning his attention back to Mikey, who was now nibbling on a leftover piece of dorayaki he’d apparently stashed in his pocket. “You’ve done enough for today,” (Y/N) said quietly. “Go home. Sleep.”

Mikey’s lips twitched upward, just slightly. “You’re bossier than Shinichiro ever was.”

“And you’re just as stubborn,” (Y/N) replied, his tone softer now. “Come on.”

As the night wound down, Mikey stayed close to (Y/N), his exhaustion finally catching up to him. “You’re always ready for anything,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

(Y/N) glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “Someone has to be.”

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

Here’s a more balanced rewrite of the Bonten section. It softens (Y/N)’s tone, adds interactions with the other Bonten members, and makes him less gloomy while still maintaining his sharp and composed nature.

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

The Bonten boardroom was unusually quiet for once, save for the faint rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Mikey sat at the head of the table, his usual calm exterior giving away little of what was on his mind. The other executives glanced at each other now and then, unsure if they should speak or wait.

The sound of the door opening snapped everyone’s attention toward (Y/N) as he stepped inside. His composed demeanor, immaculate suit, and steady presence commanded immediate respect. He carried a leather-bound folder tucked under one arm and a tray in his other hand.

“Good afternoon,” (Y/N) said smoothly, his voice cutting through the tension like a warm knife. He set the tray down at the center of the table, revealing a sleek silver teapot and several cups. “I thought the meeting might benefit from some refreshment. None of you seem to remember the value of staying hydrated. Or value anything that would benefit zour health"

The executives exchanged glances, unsure how to react, but Kakucho gave a small nod of thanks as (Y/N) poured the first cup and slid it toward him. “Much appreciated,” he said.

(Y/N) moved systematically around the table, pouring tea for each member. When he reached Ran, the man smirked. “Didn’t know you were our butler too, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, his tone light but firm. “If I were your butler, Ran, you’d have better manners by now.”

Rindou stifled a laugh, earning a glare from his brother, but (Y/N) moved on without missing a beat. Once everyone had a cup, he turned his attention to Mikey.

“Mikey,” (Y/N) addressed him directly, sliding the last cup across the table. “It’s been hours since you’ve said a word. I assume that means everything’s under control?”

Mikey’s eyes flicked up briefly, meeting (Y/N)’s. “It’s fine,” he said flatly.

“Good,” (Y/N) replied, straightening. “Then there’s no need to linger. This meeting is adjourned.”

The executives exchanged hesitant looks, unsure if they should move before Mikey gave the word. But when Mikey gave a small nod, they began gathering their things and filing out of the room.

As they passed by, (Y/N) paused Kakucho with a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been limping again,” he said quietly. “Let me look at it later. You’ve likely aggravated the injury from last month.”

Kakucho hesitated, then gave a sheepish nod. “I’ll stop by your office later.”

(Y/N)’s gaze shifted to Sanzu, who had been lingering by the door, his usual manic grin plastered across his face. “And you,” (Y/N) said, his tone sharper. “I saw the dent in your car this morning. You’re not getting away with reckless driving again.”

Sanzu chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Caught me. I’ll fix it.”

“You’d better,” (Y/N) replied, his tone softening slightly. “I’m not replacing your bumper again."

Once the others were gone, (Y/N) turned back to Mikey, who had yet to move from his seat. His expression remained impassive, but (Y/N) knew better than to be fooled by Mikey’s stoicism. He walked to the head of the table and stood across from him, hands clasped behind his back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” (Y/N) asked.

Mikey shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

(Y/N) nodded, not pushing further. “Very well. But you should at least take a break. Sitting here all day won’t accomplish anything.”

Mikey let out a sigh but didn’t argue. Instead, he stood and gestured for (Y/N) to follow him as they left the boardroom. The walk to Mikey’s office was quiet, but not uncomfortable.

When they arrived, (Y/N) pulled a chair up to Mikey’s desk and began organizing the scattered papers without being asked. “You should delegate more,” he said casually. “That’s what the others are here for. You don’t need to carry everything alone. I think they have proven themselves long ago.”

Mikey watched him for a moment before sitting down on the couch, resting his head against the frame. “They’re not as reliable as you.”

(Y/N) smirked faintly. “You’re too kind.” He leaned back, his tone lightening. “But if you keep letting me clean up after you, they’ll never get the chance to prove themselves.”

Mikey’s lips twitched upward ever so slightly, and for a brief moment, the weight in his gaze seemed to lift. “I guess you have a point.”

(Y/N) gave a small nod, satisfied. “Good. Now, let’s go through what’s left, and then you’re going home early. No arguments.”

Mikey rolled his eyes but didn’t protest, sitting up straighter.

Though the weight of Bonten’s world loomed large, (Y/N)’s steady presence made it bearable, even if just for a moment. And while he wasn’t one to express sentimentality, (Y/N) knew the truth deep down: keeping everyone in line, Mikey especially wasn’t just his duty. It was what made him feel like he still had a purpose in their chaotic, fractured world.