Chapter Text
Exasperated is probably the closest word (Y/n) can think of to describe the looming dread she feels as another match has ended. She doesn’t even feel compelled to watch the medical team struggle to lift another heavy hitting, muscled brawler onto the long medical bed as the blaring bell sounds. Instead, she leans further into the cushioned throne she’s settled into, letting the heavy beehive ponytail-esque wig hang off the top of the chair’s back support to give her head a well-earned break from holding it up for so long. She tunes out whatever comes from the head-splitting speakers while her brain attempts to reassure her, again, that her friends are more than capable of making it to the final rounds and spare her from all of this.
Despite being separated from them for at least a month and a fortnight, all the people around her couldn’t stop talking about them. It seemed like they were constantly doing something worthwhile around space in their silly little spacecraft with the silly little Technodroid while she rotted away in her silly little space tower. She’s growing oh so sick of her space tower.
‘You won’t miss out on a thing, (Y/n). We’re going to grab that piece and come right back, (Y/n).’ Was all really starting to feel like bullshit encouragement each time she’d attend a briefing and learn of some really cool thing they did in her absence. It’s almost a little unfair they get to do the physical action part of stopping the triceratons and their black hole generator while she had to play political princess to ensure they had extra fighting power. This space princess shit wasn’t nearly as fun as Space Heroes was making it out to be…
Okay, that was kind of a lie. She really enjoys getting to know about where she comes from, even if there’s a lot of strict royal alien stuff to it. She didn’t mind following the customs and building bridges, especially when her older sister was right there to ease her into it with as little stress as possible. Sure, a near constant entourage was extremely annoying and she wasn’t exactly fond of being revered to the point of fear, but the other stuff was interesting to learn about! There was even a tournament being held in her honor for her return that the gang promised to be back in time for!
Except, y’know, it was more of a whole marriage thing…
You’d think she would’ve put that together when words like eligible and bachelorette and marriage were appearing rather frequently, but she assumed she’d be off the planet and a step closer back to New York before it became a her problem. Hell, Mikey and Casey put what was happening together before she did. Sure, they were with everyone else when they saw the advertisement for it, but that was still less information than she’d had in front of her face to realize what was going on.
Luckily, they had made it back to her home planet just in time for them to enter into the tournament on behalf of her honor. Unluckily, April couldn’t compete due to her being classified as (Y/n) lady-in-waiting the last time they’d all been there. Luckily, that gave her an extra companion she actually knew up in the prize corner, as she’d affectionately dubbed the prison they were making her sit in for the entirety of the competition, and Donnie provided her with a communicator so they could feed information to each other. Unluckily, they’d only managed to get one other one working and it’s service was spotty due to the jammed signal in the fighter’s chambers.
April managed to provide as much entertaining commentary as possible, even in any adverse situations that seemed to arise. She was especially helpful when Casey was booted before the end of the first round. He reminded (Y/n) why he’s at the bottom of her friend totem pole and now he’s never copying her physics homework again.
“Ooo, good thing he’s out. That guy is definitely not your type,” She’s even more appreciative of the redhead when she settles in next to her on the large and daunting throne, the weirdly smooth texture of April’s yellow spacesuit wrinkling the sparkly tulle fabric of the space blue gown she’d been shimmied into. She’s pretty sure her friend is mocking the group of court members that have taken up a small part of the prize corner who’d been gossiping since they’d slipped in and taken up space.
There were three in specific, each wearing the brightest version of each primary color. They’re huddled together with thick, matching white fans covering their lower faces enough that she can’t remember what they look like without them. Then again, she’s not sure if she’s ever seen them without their lower faces covered, so they could very well not have anything below the bridges of their snooty noses.
They’re unsure if the trio knows their rumors aren’t smothered by the thick fabrics. It’s useful, even if a little annoying, due to all the information they’d gotten about each contender and they were more than happy to share it with the guys. It doesn’t erase the weird tightness she feels each time they comment about the optics of any of the warriors alongside her.
“The turtle boys are just as exciting as when triceratons come around,” One of the courtiers speaks up with an appreciative undertone. Both girls perk up at the statement, “They’re definitely among the more attractive contenders.”
“Very promising, I’ve never felt more entertained,”
“Here’s one now,” A unanimous hum sounds in eerily perfect harmony from the three at the announcement.
(Y/n) can’t help looking over the banister, craning her neck til it cramps to glance down at the arena from her seat. The adornment on her head causes a swooping noise to follow each action, the tail even hitting April a few times. It’s definitely one of her boys down there. She can’t see much of his face, but she recognizes the blue bandana and the twin katanas he showboats with a flashy swing of his swords as he unsheathes them. The light glistens on the edge of his sword enough to send a blinding glare her way, his unspoken message of reassured encouragement.
From what she can gather, his opponent is another sword user, though not nearly as experienced as her cerulean-eyed friend. The difference is extremely clear in the ring as he fumbles over simple moves and leaves himself vulnerable in relatively novice ways. Despite it, he’s still managing to hold his own in a way that leaves her somewhat flabbergasted. The courtiers next to them call it dumb luck.
She can’t help but find her eyes drawn to the way his muscles bulge with each movement, his wraps seeming to flex alongside each tissue of his arms. Even with how far above the ring she is, she can see the way he confidently smirks each time he backs his opponent into a corner. The clinking and clashing of the metal below is heightened by the sighs of the maidens beside her, their heartbeats ringing in her ears as they continue to gossip about her friends as though she isn’t in the room alongside them.
She doesn’t know when she moved from her seat, but her fingers press into the cold glass of her cage as she watches him fight with baited breath. While she hasn’t physically seen them, seen him, in their time apart, it doesn’t make sense for them—him— to change so much. Maybe she just hadn’t noticed how much taller he’d become or how much his stature had changed within the last few years and needed a little time away for her mind to catch up with her eyes.
Somehow, she can feel his stare even from how far apart they are. She can’t ever accuse him of never taking a fight seriously, especially when he continues on even when she knows his full attention isn’t there. No one else can tell any difference, the courtiers continue to be just as amazed and entertained as they were at the beginning of the bout and most of the words that fill the air go in one ear and directly out into the other as she finds herself mesmerized taking in every new tiny aspect of her friend.
Her (e/c) orbs easily catch his blue pools each time he chances a glance in her direction. Her cheeks burn an angry and hot shade, ever deeper as each glance grows into a longer and longer stare the wearier the other guy grows. She swallows when she catches his wink after a particularly daring backflip off of his opponent’s shoulders and the court beside her all seem to lean into each other in an agonizing swoon.
She’s always found Leonardo relatively attractive, in spite of his reptilian appearance, but it was never enough to make her stop and stare while he beat the shit out of someone on behalf of her honor. She finds her eyes lingering on his matured face, still somehow managing to be the perfect mixture of turtle and human despite his more boyish features growing into something older.
She almost feels angry with how hot she finds him right now, watching him play up the fight for the crowd when she knows he could’ve won and been done at least 5 mins ago. They’ve all been playing it up a bit, something about wanting to stay in the crowd’s good graces in case they manage to get knocked out of the lineup anytime soon. But something about him and the unending comments from the court beside her about how amazing he is wounds an ugly, tight feeling in her chest.
It’s a relatively quick fight, easily ended when Leo finally kicks the other guy out of the ring after showboating it up a little. He’s got enough care to make sure he hits one of the padded walls and moves his attention away from the slumped over body once the paramedics rush in to take him away. She’s unable to tear her eyes away from his overt display of overconfidence, even when he gives an annoying bow like he’d just finished up a play.
He fully turns his body to her direction and, despite the distance, she’s sure she watched his pupils flit over her form. They linger too long on the traditional dress that hugs and drapes to accentuate her shape. She’s almost ashamed at the warmth she feels pool in the pit of her stomach and the way her heart pitter patters against her ribcage in response. When their eyes meet again, he sends her a small, laughably shy wave with his dorky grin spread across his face. She waves back, fighting down the urge to yell out to him.
“At least we know Leo’s definitely making it to the finals,” April finally speaks up once he’s ushered back to the champion chambers, causing (Y/n) to jump a little. She didn’t notice when she’d moved next to her, but she does notice the way her lips are quirked into a knowing smirk and the mischievous glint in her blue eyes, “He’s aiming for the win.~”
“They’re all aiming for the win. That was the plan, remember?” (Y/n) rolls her eyes when April bumps her hip against hers, deciding to turn her back away from the other match just as it begins. Her arms cross as she leans against the cold surface, using the temperature to ground her back to her resting warmth, “Win the tournament, ensure the alliance, finally leave and find the remaining pieces?”
“Yeah, but don’t you want to enjoy it just a little?”
Did she want to enjoy the attention from him, even if she knew it would be temporary? She remembers when they got close while they were in the farmhouse only for them to become even more distanced when they finally got back to New York. She doesn’t want to go through the push and pull of trying to make something work again when he’s going to focus on…
But she should be allowed to enjoy having so much undivided energy, even if she’s playing damsel space princess in distress to his Space Captain Ryan roleplay…
“No.”