#this is how i ask for fics now hahahaha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dandylovesturtles · 6 months ago

Note

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

#rottmnt #rise leo #agent bishop #cw: psychological torture #dandy fanfiction #I want it to be clear that any time Leo is hearing “Mind Raph”#that's just his own inner voice manifesting #please don't be mad at Raph himself lol

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chaos-in-deepspace · 5 months ago

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L&DS Xavier: Entertain Me | 18+

Hahahaha so I was posting in a server all the NSFW fics I had for individual characters and I just...babes i only got like two for Xavie Baby (not to mention the drabble that I'll be releasing maybe later today). So anyway, here's our favorite bunny.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Xavier x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Cum Shots, Teasing, Fingering, AFAB Anatomy, Slight Bratting, Top Xavier, Grinding ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: It was one of your beautiful days off as you cuddled with Xavier, however sadly you were bored and needed something to entertain you...thankfully you had a rather attractive man right underneath you already. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 2.3k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Entertain Me

You look over at Xavier, letting out a small yawn as you shake your head. It was an overly lazy day at the house, both you and Xavier had the day off and you had nothing to do. Which normally wouldn’t be so bad but you were currently dying from boredom despite your current position.

You were lying on top of your beloved boyfriend, Xavier, relaxing into his touch as you scrolled through your phone. He had a book out and if you turned to lay on your back rather than your side, you could’ve joined him in reading it. Still, that wasn't what you wanted as you shifted, laying on him so you were now chest to chest with him. Your breath fanning over his neck as you wondered what you could do to entertain yourself…that was until an idea sprung into your mind.

Your crotch was positioned directly on top of his in your new position, making you smirk. Xavier had barely moved since you shifted, only adjusting slightly to make it more comfortable. You let out a content yawn and wiggled your hips, happy that you could somehow still feel the outline of his cock through his sweatpants and underwear. He wasn’t hard, but he did have a big dick and you were always more than happy to get a feel of it.

The motion had Xavier looking down at you curiously, not knowing if you were doing this on purpose or if it was an accident, “Are you comfortable?” his soft voice came out and you let out a hum, tilting your head.

“Ya…but,” you finally murmured, taking his cheek in one of your hands and scooching a bit closer. Your lips connected with his in a soft kiss, one that you couldn’t help but smile into. How Xavier’s lips were always so soft was a question of the century, but you would never be upset about it.

Xavier reacted immediately to your kiss, placing the book he was reading onto the side table behind him, his hand going to your waist to hold you in place. He melted into it, your lips working in tandem and he sighed when you parted, pressing his forehead against your own, “Did you need attention then?” he asked and you chuckled in response.

Your hand begins trailing down his chest, wishing you could feel more of him. As it was, his hoodie was thick and got in the way. It didn’t stop you though, moving your hands to hook underneath the offending fabrics so your cool hand was pressed directly against his abs. You watched Xavier’s breath hitch as he looked at you, finally realizing exactly what you were after, “You know, if you keep that up then I’ll have to take action,” it was a warning.

You let out a small whine, trying your best to give him puppy dog eyes, “Xavie, I’m bored,” you said, a small pout on your lips as you tried convincing him to provide you with what you wanted. Your hand trailed up and over his pecs, brushing against his nipple as he leaned forward into your touch.

Xavier shook his head, the gentle smile on his face turning a little more cocky as he grabbed you by the back of your head, dragging you in for another kiss. This time instead of the gentle brushing of mouths, his tongue darted out and played with your bottom lip, coaxing you to open and let him in. You groaned, savoring the taste of his lips on your own as you closed your eyes, melting into him more.

When he finally parted, panting against your mouth, he raised an eyebrow, “If you’re bored, perhaps you should find something to entertain you,” he suggested, making you frown.

“I have found something to entertain me,” your hand was gently grazing his chest, “You,” your mouth went to press kisses along the expanse of his neck now, nipping on occasion as you could hear a small groan coming from the back of his throat. You were intent on leaving a mark on him, working on a pretty purple piece right under his jawline. Once you were content with your mark, your lips unlatched with a satisfying ‘pop’ and you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

You could see Xavier’s eyes were closed as his breaths came out a little more ragged than normal. He opened his eyes to look at you, frowning a bit that you had stopped. Then you felt it; his cock twitching underneath you and you couldn’t help but grind down on the hard length.

Xavier lets out a groan as you speak, “So, are you going to entertain me?” you said, your voice a little too confident. It was something Xavier picked up on, his eyes narrowing as you attempted to take complete control of the situation.

“Are you trying to rile me up?” he said, his voice didn’t give way to any irritation behind it. It was a simple question, one that could’ve reminded you of someone asking what the weather outside was supposed to be.

You couldn’t help but stick out your tongue, letting defiance overrun you, “Isn’t that obvious?” you responded with a smirk. Xavier huffed, looking you up and down before he finally sat up, making sure to hold you in place so you didn’t fall off his lap.

You gasped at the sudden change, but what came next was what had turned into a moan. Xavier didn’t waste a single second, moving your flimsy shorts and underwear to the side as he pressed against your already slick entrance.

You could hear how wet you were, and if you had an inkling of shame you might’ve been embarrassed, “How long have you been like this?” again with a calm and collected voice.

“For a while now…you smell good and you’re warm, not to mention I’ve been able to feel your dick underneath me this entire time we were cuddling,” you explained; a gentle sigh being coaxed from you as his finger pressed against your clit with a featherlight feel.

“And you’re just now speaking up?” it was almost like Xavier was scolding you, but before you could say anything you let out another breathy moan, feeling one of his fingers going inside your sopping core. Your hops moved on their own, trying to get him deeper inside of you. You were soaking, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Xavier as he easily slid a second finger in.

You began riding his fingers, loving how he curled them just right to hit your sweet spot, “Xavier…” you whined, out, wanting to be filled with something bigger than just his fingers. You watched him tilt his head, those cerulean eyes looking at you with a teasing glint in them.

“Something you need?” he asked, holding your hips in place with his free hand so you couldn’t grind on him anymore. Another small keen came from your throat as he began plunging his fingers in quickly, his thumb now pressing against your clit. Your eyes widened in surprise, then your head tilted back as you let out a loud, gasping moan.

“W-wanna-fuck Xav, need your dick…please,” you said between small gasps, loving how fast this man was able to drag you towards completion. Still, you’d rather be gushing on his cock right now, not on his fingers. Xavier didn’t seem to let up, instead, he pressed a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands finding his shoulders.

“I don’t know if you deserve that,” he began, curling his fingers just right, “You were being very demanding earlier,” a small sigh from his as he listened to the symphony of the wet squelching noises as he finger fucked you on his lap.

“Mn, X-Xav, please,” you whimpered out, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock buried in you to the hilt.

“I might consider it if you cum like this,” he teased, and gods if that wasn’t a turn-on. YOu were already so close, the coiling in your stomach ready to snap. You then felt his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned in, “I know you can do it, starlight, cum on my fingers,” that was all it took to drive you over the edge.

Your cunt clenched around his fingers as pathetic little whimpers escaped your throat. Your body tingled as he finally allowed you to move your hips, bucking them into his hands. Xavier seemed to soak up all your noises, his fingers never letting up as he let you ride through the bliss. When your hips finally stopped you stared at him, a small pout.

“That was unfair,” you murmured as he took his fingers out of you. Your pussy contracted as though protesting the loss. You then felt his fingers, still wet with your release, pressing against your lips. You pressed his fingers in your mouth, sucking your release from them.

“I let you cum, didn’t I?” he said with a head tilt, frowning at you as he pressed his fingers on your tongue, “Are you going to insist on acting like a spoiled brat even when you got your release,” your eyes widened at his words. You? Being a brat? Unheard of.

“I…I am not,” you finally got out after taking his fingers out of your mouth; you were scandalized by his accusation. He smirked, pressing your hips down until you could feel his throbbing length pressing against your over-sensitive mound. You let out a little moan, looking at him, “H-hey…” you mumbled.

“I think you are…if you really want to feel my dick then I’d get moving,” he said, and you perked up. Was he finally going to let you have what you wanted? Your hand trailed to his waistband before he caught your wrist in his hand, holding it in place.

“I never said you could feel it directly,” he said, his voice steady but his face was saying something else. You swallowed thickly, realizing that he wasn't playing around with you. You opened your mouth to protest but instead whimpered as he bucked his hips against you. Damn it shouldn’t have felt that good right after coming, and you could feel your slick forcing your underwear and shorts to stick to you in an almost uncomfortable fashion.

You were pouting and shot him a small glare, “Fine…” you muttered, rolling your hips. You closed your eyes right away, savoring the feeling. Even between all these layers, he felt heavenly. Your cunt throbbed at the mental image of him being buried to the hilt inside of you. Your hips now move on their own as you press kisses along the column of his neck.

Xavier hummed, both hands now back on your hips as he helped your movements, allowing you to hump his cock. After a few moments though you let out a whine, “Xavier, it’s not enough,” you said, panting slightly as you looked at him. Maybe he would have pity?

“Is it not?” he asked, “You were the one who was begging to feel it, and now that you get to grind on my dick it’s suddenly not enough?” God he was using your own words against you.

“X-Xav mhn!” you were cut off as he ground his hips up into you roughly. The sensation felt good especially as he managed to get the clothed head of his cock brushing against your clit now. He did this motion a few more times before speaking, “You can cum like this, can’t you?”

His cock was twitching in his pants and you nodded, biting your lip, “Y-ya, I c-ah-can,” you got out, your own hips now pressing down as you chased your own release. It was almost embarrassing with how fast you were getting already, the tension building. Xavier didn’t let up either, chasing his own release using your clothed pussy.

Your hips worked together, savoring every grind on one another as it sent jolts of electric pleasure through your body, “F-fuc-k, I’m clo-hng-close Xav,” your whimpering voice wavered as you felt your cunt pulsating.

“Go on, starlight, cum again for me. Wanna feel you gushing over my pants,” he said, he was also panting and his face was now flush, a thin layer of sweat on his brow bone as he was clearly close to his own end.

His soothing voice once again sent you over the edge, your vision blurring as you let out a cacophony of whimpers and sighs, coming and leaving a decent-sized wet spot over his pants as you had soaked through your underwear and shorts. Xavier let out a groan, letting you ride your high before he moved you down a little.

You were about to ask why he did that, but you watched as he took his cock out. It was hot and heavy looking in his hands, the tip glistening with pre cum as he worked his hand over his length. He closed his eyes, jerking his cock until ropes of cum shot out, painting the front of your shorts with his release. He looked so damn good like this, coming over you and you let out another, needy whine.

After he seemed to finish, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that you melted into. Your body felt like jelly, nice and pliable as you leaned into his chest. His lips brushed your own as he spoke, “We should get cleaned up,” he mumbled.

“Probably…” you sighed, not wanting to leave but knowing you had to.

“Are you at least entertained now?” his words made you flush as you pressed another quick kiss to his lips.

“Yes…but perhaps you could entertain me some more?” despite coming twice, you still wanted to feel him inside of you. Xavier huffed, looking at you from this close angle.

His hands hooked under your thighs, “Hold on then, starlight,” he said, waiting for your arms to wrap around his shoulders before standing up, “I might give you what you want…but first I want to make sure you’ve cleaned up properly,” you watched him lick his lips and your eyes widened at the implication. Perhaps this day off was going to turn into a cardio kind of day.

I was really lazy when it came to checking for typos and ran this through grammarly (free version) so we going off hopes and prayers that I didn't make any serious typos

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Xavier Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Xavier #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #xavier x reader #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader #rabid rabbit hours

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scarletwinterxx · 2 months ago

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god bless your dad's genetics - choi seungcheol imagine

do you ever think daddy when you see Cheol or are you normal... hahahaha no but seriously this man this man he is THE MAN. my playlist of all Seungcheol coded songs are getting longer and longer🤣 and you already know Juno by Sabrina Carpenter is there THAT IS SO HIS SONG

anywayssss hope you like it!

if anyone want to be mutuals on X, i'm using the same un there😊

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"See you next dinner! Hopefully you got the baby carrier next time!"

"Okay, auntie bye!"

Your smile fades the moment the front door closes, Seungcheol chuckling at your expression. You feel him give your hand a squeeze, leading you down the road to where he parked his car

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into this" you grumble as you walk beside him

"Because they're family, it was nice to see your mom" he tells you, trying to simmer your irritation. He knows it's not meant for him but for the nosy relatives you try so hard to avoid.

It took a while before you introduced him to your extended family for this exact reason, every family reunion they would pester you about finding a boyfriend or a husband and you just always reply with a smile. When you did finally get a boyfriend you didn't even think about taking him to your chaotic family dinners.

But Seungcheol, god bless his heart, just wanted to be the best boyfriend so when your mom asked if he wanted to come of course he couldn't say no.

He already knew your mom so when you got to her place, she welcomes the two of you then goes around dragging Seungcheol by the arm to introduce him to the rest of the family.

It's cute to see your mom boasting your boyfriend, you would too.

The entire night went on like the usual then when it was time to say goodbye of course some of your aunties will make sure to say something.

You're glad it's over though. It really drained all your energy, thankful you now have someone with you. The two of you get in the car, he waits before you're buckled in before he starts driving back to the city.

"It was, but god the rest of them are nosy" you say

He laughs at your words, nodding his head "Your mom showed me all the baby pictures" he tells you

"Is that where you disappeared to? Oh god please tell me she didn't show everything"

"She showed me everything" he beams, if not for his big smile you would've been more annoyed but seeing Seungcheol happy makes you happy. If it's at the expense of your embarrassing baby pics then so be it.

"You were so cute, what are you worrying for" he asks, his hand finding your thigh like it always does whenever you're sitting on his passenger seat

"I'm very well aware I was a cute baby, you know when I see those pics I can't help but wish my daughter would look just like me"

Seungcheol looks over at you quickly, seeing you looking out the window. He can't help but smile at that, his mind already imagining a little in his arms with your nose and eyes and cheeks.

"Me too" he mumbles "One of you is cute but two though..." he trails off

That makes you look over at him, the two of you have talked about the future but not much about the details. You don't see a future without him and so does he.

He's very sure the two of you would end up on the aisle saying vows to each other, no matter how far that is down the road.

"You want kids?"

"Yea, in the future when we're ready. How ever many you want" he answers so casually but in reality his heart is hammering against his chest. He's a tough guy, he likes to think. But when it comes to you, even the little things you do can get him down on his knees.

"Really?" he can hear the smile on your voice, he gives your thigh a squeeze before taking your hand to give the back of it a kiss

"Really really, a little girl who looks just like you? I would love that more than anything. Have you seen you, babe? I bet you'll look good pregnant" he smirks, earning a light hit on his arm from you

You blush at his words, your mind and heart racing at the thought of having his babies.

"Fuck around and you'll find out" you say

"Oh don't worry, I'm planning to"

You laugh outloud but you just know there's truth to his words. Having Seungcheol as your lover will never leave you unsatisfied in all ways. He knows just how to treat your right.

"But how about you, do you think I'll be a good dad?" he asks, giving you a quick look

"What are you talking about? You'll be on fight mode everyday if we have a daughter and I'll love you even more for it. I just know she'll be in good hands" you say

"You're so daddy material" you jokingly add

"Okay back up, let's not go there yet. I'm driving" he chuckles

He was quiet for a few moments, thinking about a few things he wanted to ask "Did you have a hard time? going back between your mom and dad?"

"No, they were very good parents. I was always the first priority and I knew that. You know my dad told me it's easy to find a husband but it's hard to find a father for your kids. Him and my mom might not have been a good couple but they are great parents"

"I can see that" he says with a quiet voice. He knew about your parent's separation when you were a kid. How you spent your holidays in two households, how you celebrate everything twice.

'It's double the love' you once told him.

He can see that even though you were raised in an unconventional household, it didn't stop you from having a positive outlook on love and having a family of your own. And for that, he's thankful.

When the two of you arrive at his place where you now mostly stay, he gets out first and opens the door for you. The two of you walk hand in hand towards his front door but he stops you midway

"I'm glad to hear you're happy. I promise that even if it might not be like that everyday, I'll never walk away when it isn't"

You look up at him, committing this moment to your memory "Me too"

"And I'll work even harder to be a good father"

Walking towards him, you throw your arms around his neck so now you're face to face

"I know you will be"

"I love you" he tells you because there's so much to say but that's all he can think of right now. Looking right into your eyes then down your lips then to your eyes again, he swears he's falling in love all over again. He swears he can hear his heart beating because fuck he's so so so in love with you.

It's taking every bit of his self control not to kneel down on one knee and ask for your hand in marriage right now.

You lean towards him, everything in his mind goes quiet and all he heard before you kiss him were the words "I love you, too"

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haruchi-slit · 6 months ago

Note

hiii this is my first request ever so i dont know how this works HAHAHAHA

can i request a smutty sukuna fic or one shot whichever fits better about reader getting their nails done with sukunas tattoos and him getting all horny and shit ?

i saw this tik tok and i went feral about it

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMT14S6g/

my gosh I'm in awe with how gorgeous those nails look awhw this is such good idea, i hope i don't disappoint you with this ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ chi-list

minors dni, 18+ readers only! | sukuna is not in his true form + unprotected sex + cock bulge + doggy style + missionary + modern au uncle kuna and aunt reader! + not proof read

you woke up extra early to meet with your nailtech, nobara. you've been her client since she was not famous because your niece, yuuji introduced her to you, a few years ago. the reason you were at her studio at the first place because you were planning on surprising your boyfriend, sukuna with your nails matching his tattoos knowing how much he loved his tattoos and how they seemed to hold a special power over him- upon arriving on nobara's studio she greets you with a smile,

"hey, wifeyy what are we up to?" nobara giggles welcoming you in before she sat on her nail station, with her face resting on her hands.

"sooo i was thinking of surprising sukuna" you'd snicker as nobara nods profusely, "uh-huh" she murmurs, "and i was thinking of y'know getting my nails done like his tattoos" you giggled as a light shade of pink spreads across your cheeks, "ohh i see you girl, so what color are you gonna get?" nobara asked sheepishly, "so i want this specific color of pink" you chimed, picking up a nail polish displayed on nobara's table "and also I'd like to add some designs?" you added ulocking your phone and showing nobara sukuna's tattoos, "oh gosh i love your idea, shit we should start now"

.... after gossiping and giggling with nobara as she does your nail you were finally good to go,

you stretched out your fingers, admiring the intricate designs delicately painted on your nails. they were reminiscent of sukuna's tattoos, with swirling patterns, bold in black.

"shiiit i love you nobs they're so beautiful" you gagged in awe as you stared at your nails,

"well it is made by me, of course it'll be gorgeous!" nobara bantered, "i'm gonna give you a huge tip nobs, shit it's so beautiful" you swore you almost cried with how beautiful they look, after paying nobara you bid your goodbyes and you drove home eager to show them to your beloved boyfriend, once you reached your shared apartment your heart was beating so fast, as you open the door, you hobbled down to the living room seeing sukuna sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone, he was quick to notice you presence as you entered the room, sukuna watched you as you pattered from across the room, "where have you been, woman?" he asks placing his phone on the coffee table, you giggled " well i went out, i got my nails donee, i left you a text didn't i and i also told you yesterday!" you uttered,

"i suppose you did, i forgot and, i haven't checked my messages my bad" he rolls his eyes, "you're getting old as fuck" you jested, "what's me being old have to do with that, and why's your hands behind you back? are going to shoot me or something?" he jokes back laughing, "fuck no? as if i could the fuckkk, anyways look at themm!" you chuckled as you showcased your newly painted nails to him, spreading them out on the air, "aren't they beautiful?"

"They look good." he murmurs, "we're matching now, yeyyy!" you yelped, "do you know what's the catch?" you add making sukuna knit his brows in confusion, "so y'know i hand picked the color of my nails to match your tip" you giggled, "m-my tip? what do you mean?" sukuna stuttered, "don't play with me, sukuna..." you coed into his ear, your hot breath sending shivers down to his spine,

"I love them," he replied before standing up from the couch with his breath hitching- he quickly latched on to your lips giving you a passionate kiss, you can feel your stomach being filled with butterflies while your heart beats uncontrollably like it was going to explode. sukuna deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands wandered down to your hips. He couldn't help but feel turned on by the way your nails looked like his tattoos. It reminded him of his power, his dominance.

Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, sukuna's hands ripping off your clothes. sukuna's fingers traced over your newly painted nails, sending sparks of pleasure through you, you groaned as he nibbled on your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin leaving red hickeys on your neck, like decorations. he could feel your pulse racing under his lips, making him even more aroused, with a swift movement, sukuna had bent you over a nearby table, your nails scratching against the surface. sukuna couldn't wait any longer, his desire for your sweet cunt was consuming him. before even registrating in to you he thrust into you hard, causing you to gasp for air and arch your back.

you couldn't help but moan loudly, the sensation of sukuna's tattooed arms rubbing against your skin driving you wild. you could feel him ram his hard dick in your sopped cunt, "s'kuna ngh-" you pant, gripping on the table hard, leaving deep scratches on it,

hi"y'know i- wasn't -fuck! expecting you to get my tattoos printed on your nails" he grunts in your ear nibbling on it slightly while he thrusts in you hard that you could feel his cock bulging on your abdomen, hitting every weak spot of yours, "you got me so worked up girl.."

he'd keen, placing a hand on your back as he watched your cunt suck him in with every thurst he makes.

he flipped you around before he thrusted mercilessly in your pussy, making you mewl in pleasure, getting closer and closer to the edge, your body was trembling with pleasure.

sukuna's pace quickened, his hands gripping your plush thighs tightly with his callused palms as he pounded into you, your bare your painted nails on his back making crescent wounds, scratching his bare back as he could feel your walls clenching around him, signaling your release. with one final thrust, the both of you reached your climaxes, crying out each other's names.

you both catch your breath, as sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against your ear. "you look so cute when you're a pretty mess," he whispered, sending chills down your spine.

you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. "so did you liked my surprise?" you asked, your voice breathless.

sukuna chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, grateful " i f'king love them" he mumurs before kissing you once more.

a/n: sorry it took so long huhu i was distracted in playing roblox and other video games but, i hope you guys liked it! -REQUESTS OPEN-

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allnightstay · 1 month ago

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Day 17 - Raspberry 🌬️

Summary: Geto decides to be a menace to you for no reason... but you're not complaining.

Lee: Reader

Ler: Geto

A/N: This is for the anon that asked about a Geto x Reader fic!! I hope you enjoyy ~

It was one of those rare, blissful afternoons when everything felt still. No missions, no cursed spirits, and no obligations demanding your attention. Geto laid stretched across the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, the picture of ease. His long, dark hair fanned across the cushion, catching the late afternoon light.

You sat cross-legged on the floor beside him, flipping through a book, but your mind wandered as you peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He looked way too smug, like he had a secret you weren’t in on.

“You’re fidgeting,” Geto murmured without moving, his voice smooth and low, with just a hint of amusement.

“I’m not fidgeting,” you said defensively, shifting your legs.

His lips curled into a small, lazy smirk. “You are.” His golden eyes slid open, sharp and observant, and you knew immediately... you were doomed.

“What’s that look for?” you asked, suddenly wary.

“Oh, nothing,” he replied innocently, the smirk never leaving his face. “You just seem... bored.” He pushed himself upright with a stretch, muscles shifting beneath his loose shirt. "And I think you’re about five seconds away from regretting that.”

You blinked. “What-"

Before you could finish, Geto pounced with the precision of someone who knew exactly how to take you apart. His hands shot to your sides, his fingers fluttering across your ribs.

“HAHA-WAIT! Getoho!” you burst out, twisting wildly under his touch, but there was no escape. His hands were merciless, digging into every ticklish spot they could find.

“You’ve made a mistake,” Geto said in a soft, almost sing-song voice, his smile widening as your laughter grew louder. “And now I have to fix it.”

“Gehehet-hahaha! Stohohop!!” you gasped, trying to shove his hands away, but he was quick, dodging your frantic attempts with ease.

“Stop?” he repeated, feigning innocence as his hands skittered down to your waist. "You’re laughing too much to mean that.”

“I mehehehean it!! Hahaha! I SWEHEHEAR!!"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. His hands slowed, just enough to give you hope, and then he leaned in, pressing his lips right to your ribs.

"Wait NOHOHO-"

The raspberry was loud and obnoxious, sending a shockwave of tingling vibrations through your skin. Your laughter exploded uncontrollably.

“HAHAHAHA! GEHEHEHETOHOHO!” you shrieked, thrashing beneath him, but he only grinned wider.

“Look at you,” he teased, blowing another raspberry just beneath your ribs. “I didn’t know you were this ticklish.”

“YOU-NAHAHA-ARE THE WORST!”

“Oh?” His voice was light, playful, but his hands were relentless. His long fingers danced along your belly, then dipped into the space between your ribs. Another raspberry followed, this time against your stomach.

“NAHAHAH OKAHAHAHAY, OKAY!!” you pleaded between gasps of laughter, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t breheheheathe!”

Geto chuckled, clearly having too much fun to stop. “You should’ve thought of that before,” he murmured, blowing a smaller raspberry on the soft spot near your collarbone.

You practically howled. “I HATE YOU! Hahaha! I-stop, I mean it!"

“No, you don’t,” he said with a soft laugh, his voice velvety and smug. “Admit it, you’re having fun.”

You tried your best to glare at him through your laughter, but it was impossible to keep a straight face when he was still attacking your ribs.

“Okay-hahaha-MERCY!” you finally cried, flailing helplessly beneath him.

For a moment, Geto pretended to consider it, tilting his head with an exaggerated look of thought. Then, with one last smirk, he blew a final raspberry right at the crook of your neck.

“HAHAHA! NO MORE!” you yelped, slamming your hands against the floor in surrender.

At last, Geto relented, leaning back and giving you a moment to catch your breath. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, still panting.

“You’re the one who couldn’t stop laughing,” Geto pointed out with a smug grin.

You shot him a half-hearted glare, though it was hard to stay mad when his rare, genuine smile was lighting up his entire face. He looked way too pleased with himself, and you knew this wasn’t over.

“Next time,” you warned, still catching your breath, “you’re the one getting raspberries. And I’m not going easy on you.”

Geto chuckled softly. “You’re welcome to try,” he said, his voice low and challenging, a promise wrapped in silk.

He gave you a teasing wink, ruffling your hair as he stood up and stretched. “Better luck next time.”

You sat there, still grinning despite yourself, already plotting your revenge. One thing was certain: the next time Geto let his guard down, he was going to be the one laughing.

And you weren’t planning on showing any mercy.

#tickle fic #anime tickle fic #augtickletober2024 #tickletober 2024 #anime tickle #anime tickling #jjk tickle #jjk tickle fic #jujutsu kaisen tickle fic #jujutsu kaisen tickle #ticklish reader #lee!reader #ler!geto #ler!suguru #geto tickle fic

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, death.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh boy, look how far we have come? This has been such an insane ride, so just remember how much you love me... hahahaha. This chapter has been sitting with me since I started writing this fic months ago, so at least the vision stayed the same! We still got 6 more chapters to go... I sense some therapy invoices coming. Anyway... enjoy <3

Chapter 104: Star Fruit and Sacrifices

Sleep evaded you that evening as you laid in his arms.

The storm outside the Red Keep quietly raged on, and the chambers were lit intermittently with the bright flashes of lightning, your heart jumping in your chest each time as it illuminated a small figure at the end of the room.

Lucerys no longer whispered, but instead stared at you.

Watched you.

Waited.

Always the same, and you were sure, would always be forever more. Dripping wet as he had been the day he was taken, on a storm very much like the one outside.

But war was coming, and there was no possibility of escaping that now.

And what was more; you were caught.

Caught in the decision that you knew you would have to make. Caught in the knowing that it would come too soon. Caught in the knowing that it would change everything forever.

Change you forever.

You loved him.

That much was true.

But you also loved them.

And there was no way that any of you would come out of this unscathed.

Unmarked.

Unscarred.

And Aemond would keep you locked away in these chambers as you would lose more of yourself and your family at his hands.

Aemond would kill them all.

Or they would kill him.

But you loved him.

Despite all, you loved Aemond Targaryen.

And oh, how he had changed. How he had grown. How he had become his own man, held his own, made his own moves, and all because of you. All because you pushed him to. All because you made him believe he could.

And he could.

And he did.

And now he was King, and you his Queen.

You shifted in his arms, looking up at his face.

He had never looked so at peace. Lost to his dreams, his eye shut, the other sapphire, forgotten to be taken out, shining down at you. His lips were slightly parted as he breathed, hands wrapped tightly around you protectively, possessively, and legs intertwined with your own. Your stomach warmed.

Long, white eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as you wriggled out of his hold, moving to straddle him, your body atop his, chemise thrown over you at his insistence before you slept. ‘You will catch cold’ he had said, and you had let him dress you, as he pulled on a pair of loose breeches and dragged you back to bed to sleep.

You sat atop his body and watched as he slowly came to wake, those long white lashes flicking open, pupil dilating as he focused on you and how you sat atop him, not unlike the many times before in the throws of your lovemaking.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered to him in the dark, voice as quiet as the storm outside moved with every passing moment.

Aemond wet his lips with his tongue, clearing the sleep from his throat as his hands came to rest atop your hips, “You are more beautiful than any other in the realm.” He whispered back.

Tears prick at your eyes, and one slowly rolled down your cheek, your uncles brows twitching.

“My husband,” You cooed, “My King.”

Another tear fell.

The hands on your hips tightened, “What has happened?” He asked, concern nipping at you with each word, “Did you have a night terror?”

“I would move the heavens for you if I could.” You breathed, a hand coming to brush against his jaw, the subtle roughness of his shaved facial hair prickling your palm, “I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. I will always be yours.”

Aemond wiped away a tear that fell from your cheek. You grabbed that hand, bringing it down to press against your stomach, intertwining your fingers together, his hand dwarfing your own as you held him against you.

“This is us. Ours. Your child grows inside of me each day. And I cannot wait to meet him. I know he will be just as lovely as you.” You smiled at him, and Aemond smiled back softly, grabbing your other hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

You swallowed thickly, feeling the presence of the memory of your brother behind you getting closer.

Dracarys.

Tear after tear fell down your cheeks, running down your face to land on Aemond’s bare chest below. You swallowed, that great lump in the back of your throat again as your hands shook, heart beating against your chest like a drum.

“But you have broken me.” You whispered, gnawing at your lip painfully.

The hand on your stomach twitched as he looked up at you, smile dropping from his face as the other palm moved to grasp your hip again, fingers flexing against your skin.

“You have scarred me, Aem. My body is covered in them. My mind faces the same fate. You raped me, Aemond. And left me to Aegon.” At the mention of his name, Aemond shifted beneath you, hands on your stomach and hip flexing, “I was miserable here, gone to grief, wishing to be dead, and you did little to save me.”

The man below you’s lips parted, a lungful of air being sucked into his chest as he moved to rebuke your accusations, “I am not that man any longer.”

You shook your head, “No. You’re not, and I am so proud of the man you have become. Of the man you were always destined to be. We were meant to burn together, you see? Destined by the Gods.”

Aemond’s face held remorse, but poured love towards you, “I know I can never atone for what I did, for what I have done to you. Taken from you. But I make no apologies, just as you would not do the same. We are changed, now. One.” The hand from your stomach slid to cup your cheek, “We will start anew. You have always been mine, and I have always been yours. Zālagon hēnkirī.”

Burn together.

"Always." A sob flew from your lips, and so you leant down to capture his with yours, holding his face in your hands as you poured love and adoration into him.

You loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. It felt as though with every beat of your heart, a knife was twisted further and further into your chest.

Doomed from the beginning.

Doomed by the Gods.

Doomed by fate and the path they had laid out for you.

You pulled away, hovering above him as you looked at his face, his eye, his eyelashes, his lips that you loved to kiss, his hair which was soft and flowing, and it made you sob harder.

“I know. Zālagon hēnkirī. Lanta hen keskydoso,” Two of the same, You repeated Helaena’s prophesy to him, watching as his eye lit up in recognition, "Vējes ondoso se Jaes'.” Fated by the Gods, “Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Hubon hen kasta, hubon hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.”

Two great dragon flames, together as one.

Spool of green, spool of black.

A great fall to tie two threads.

Fated to burn together.

A smile worked its way back onto Aemond’s lips, and you continued, “I would never be whole without you. You have carved yourself into my every being, Aemond. We were always meant to burn together, the Gods made it so when they fated us since birth. I know this now. I know this now more than I know myself. You have shown me my future. Our future.”

You knew what it meant.

You understood it all now.

You kissed him, and he kissed you, and you held his face in your hands as you uttered the words you know he had been craving to hear, needed to hear once more, “I love you, Aemond. Stars above, I love you. You are mine. And you will always be mine.”

Aemond’s smile widened, teeth showing as he held onto you, another tear falling from your eyes, “Avy jorrāelan, zaldrītsos.” I love you, little dragon.

Your lips sought his, eyes wet and heart beating in your chest. The cool of the sheet rolled beneath your hand as you slid it beside his head. Aemond gripped your hips tightly, slowly beginning to roll you against his hardening length.

Fingertips sought what they seeked, and your lips parted as you breathed into the kiss.

Aemond jerked beneath you, and your face pulled back. His fingers dug their nails into your hips painfully as another sob fell loudly into the chambers.

The blade in your palm was cold.

Such a beautiful blade.

The same blade that he had gifted you, with two dragons dancing around each other on the hilt.

Green and Black.

You and Him.

You held it tightly, knuckles white and hand shaking as it was imbedded in his neck, in a place where you had once tried to pierce with a shard of mirror before and missed, just above the scar of the old wound, but this time was final.

This time, it had met its mark.

Aemond’s hand flew to your wrist as you held the dagger in his flesh, blood spurting from the wound, spraying across the white of your chemise, and pooling into the sheets below. His brows were drawn in pain as he looked at you in disbelief, in betrayal, and you sobbed louder, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you hurt them. I can’t let you kill them. I can’t.” You sucked in a large sob, pulling the blade from his neck in shock, in horror, and dropped it against the pillow, forgotten.

But then regret settled in your chest, like that knife that twisted against your ribs, making its way to your heart.

Your hand flew to the wound, pressing against it as his blood spilled over, pulsing through your fingers. Aemond’s eye widened, and his hand pressed yours against his neck, trying to stem the bleeding.

But it was no use.

The thick crimson life flowed from him steadily with each beat of his heart, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall with it. Your stomach twisted in knots, and all you could do was cry atop him as his eye fluttered.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn't let you. I couldn't let you become a monster again." You sobbed down at him, watching as his brow softened, a small trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth as it opened, his hand skating up your hip to cup your cheek, palm covered in blood.

But it was not enough.

It would never be enough.

Hands shaking, you leant down to kiss him one final time, tasting copper on your tongue as blood had begun to fill his mouth. Aemond kissed you back weakly, hand still cupping your face.

In love.

Denial.

Shock.

Betrayal.

You sobbed into his lips, pulling back as you looked at him, his mouth opened again, and another trickle of blood leaked down his chin, meeting the rest of the crimson that seeped onto his neck and chest.

“I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. What have I done? Oh Gods, what have I done?” You cried, watching his lips part over and over, the love of your life attempting to speak, attempting to breathe, as he drowned in his own blood.

But no words could have passed his lips. And the soft fluttering of his eye slowed, and became hooded, his face growing paler than the pearl-like skin he already had. The pink flush of life beginning to fade.

The hand that cupped your cheek, the hand that had loved you, the hand that had held you, that had hurt you, slipped from your cheek and back onto the bed limply.

Blood still pulsed from the side of his neck, though weaker now, soaking thickly into the sheets as you sat atop him. Its thick essence soaked into the white of your chemise at your knees and hips, and where the initial arterial spray had dashed across you.

Those long white eyelashes blinked at you slowly, opening once more as he looked at you, teeth coated in his own blood. The side of his lip twitched, and you prayed to the Gods that it would pull into that smirk you both despised and adored. That he would grin at you and laugh, sit up and pull you into his arms.

That he would whisper into your ear that he was fine, that it was nothing that the Maester could not fix, that he would call to him now and have the maids fetch fresh sheets for you both, and bring a hot bath to soak into and wash your sin away.

That you could take him once more inside you, feel the joy he could give your body, kiss his lips, and his cheeks, his neck, all of him. That perhaps this would be a tale that you could tell your children of later, laugh heartily at how silly you had been, how awfully in love the two of you were, and watch each other grow old and grey and withered by time, your heir eventually sitting the throne after him.

But then the hand atop yours at his neck slipped away, and the violet eye that had seen so much of you became unfocused.

An ache spread across your chest as you sobbed atop him.

And his seeing eye, saw no longer.

Another eye had closed.

Aemond’s chest stopped rising and falling, no more stuttering or shaking of his limbs, his thighs and core no longer tensed or twitched, and the blood that spilled from his wound had stopped its pulsing.

He was gone.

“I’m sorry.” You cried, your hands shook as you cupped his face, his lifeless head rolling in your hands, eye open to the ceiling, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh Gods, what have I done? What have I done?”

You looked down at your hands.

They were stained with the oozing coppery liquid, the smell of iron curling around you thickly.

Your stomach rolled.

And then, denial.

Your hands frantically tried to press against his neck, blood causing him to slip out of your grip, the open wound brushing against the scar of your palm, the scar you had given yourself, the scar he had given you, and the scar that now, ultimately would never heal.

“What have I done? What have I done? Aemond? Please, Gods. Oh, Aemy. Please, wake up. Curse me, strike me, anything! Please, please don’t leave me here without you.”

The death of Aemond Targaryen broke you completely.

Burnt pages and crisp beginnings, marred by blood and choices that no young woman should be forced to make. The night moved slowly, and you would not move from his side.

Curled up against it, laid in his blood, you held his body against yours, clutching him to you as you sobbed and cried, begging for forgiveness, apologising over, and over until your throat became raw, and your voice rasped barely above a whisper.

Your chemise was soaked red, clinging to your body, and your silver hair became stained as you tucked your head beneath his, feeling the warmth of his body slowly fade away. His eye, untrained on the ceiling, and yours brimming with tears.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

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moongeonight · 10 months ago

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Crazy employees

Summary: Alastor feels the need to bother Lucifer for his own satisfaction, he decides that Niffty will do the dirty work.

A/N: I beat writer's block! For now... Tell me if you want a second part of this! (This is a tickle fic!)

(update) here part 2 👉🏼 Crazy employees part 2

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It was a normal day at the hotel, Lucifer had decided to stay at Charlie's hotel for a few days to see how everything worked, with the misfortune of having to live with Alastor.

Let's say that Alastor... hated him, And he hated him too, every time they crossed paths for some reason, they exchanged murderous looks.

But it was Alastor who wanted to take the first step in this silent war, since he accidentally saw a scene of Charlie and his dad, he discovered quite valuable information.

he saw that niffty was killing cockroaches and his smile grew wider.

"niffty! Come here!"

The little demon quickly rushed to hear what the radio demon had to say and she replied without hesitation.

"Yes, alastor! What is it? Do you need me to kill more cockroaches?" Niffty said with her usual crazed smile.

"Not this time, I need you to do a job for me, it has to do with Lucifer"

Niffty’s face lights up in excitement, she is easily enticed by the mere mention of Lucifer as she asks with a crazy grin.

“What do you need me to do?”

"Oh, it's something very simple..." Alastor said whispering to her what his little plan was to annoy to that damn of Lucifer...

Niffty’s face lit up again when she heard the plan, She giggled with delight and grabbed her feather duster and said with excitement.

"Alright then! I’m on it!"

Niffty dashed off to get in position to catch Lucifer off-guard, giggling with anticipation for the upcoming caos.

Alastor just laughed as he disappeared into the shadows with a sadistic smile waiting to appreciate the spectacle from afar.

....

Lucifer was currently resting in a small armchair trying to ignore the annoyance that Alastor had been these days.

Him being annoying was nothing new but he seemed to have upped his assholery in recent days… it was really getting on lucifer’s nerves.

But while he was still in his thoughts, he suddenly feel a little demon snuck up from behind, giggling like a maniac, who gave Lucifer a slight tap on his side using a feather duster.

Lucifer jumps up in a bit of a panic, spinning round to see who was there.

“WHAT IN THE- Oh it’s just you um... Niffty right?….” He seemed to calm down as he sat back down in the chair, resting his head on his fist.

"W-what are you doing here?"

Niffty giggled with mischief, her excitement growing stronger as she spoke, her grin stretched across her face as she replied.

“I was just tidying the room and thought I should say hello!” She replied as if it were obvious, yet the mischievous twinkling in her eye was evident that she had other intentions at hand.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, staring at Niffty with suspicion as he spoke slowly.

“Niffty… What are you really doing with that feather duster? Because... well it doesn’t look like you’ve done any cleaning at all” He said looking around the room in general.

She smiled in amusement at Lucifer’s suspicions, as he was quite obviously onto her.

“Well, maybe I might have other intentions with this feather duster, maybe something more nefarious!

As she speaks, she gives Lucifer a small little tickle on his side with the feather duster, It wasn’t too strong, but enough to catch him off guard.

Lucifer gasped and laughed as he was tickled. "Hehehey...! N-Niffty what are you-" He was cut off as Niffty continued to tickle him causing him to laugh more.

"Niffty! stohohop...! hehe... Hahahaha! p-plus I don’t think that feather duster is meant to be used on people… hahaha! plehehease put it down!” Lucifer sounded genuinely concerned at the moment.

Niffty couldn’t help but smirk and giggle at Lucifer’s reaction as his attempts to convince her to stop only made her giggle even more.

With him laughing so much, Niffty decided to take advantage of the situation and climb up onto his couch and cling to him with her arms wrapped around him.

“Hmm no no no!, we can’t have you being ticklish! We have to fix that!” She giggled as she began to tickle him even more, using both hands this time on his sides, making sure not to stop.

“WAIT! How is thihihihs supposed to hehehelp me?! Niffty! nononohoho! please st-stop! Hahaha! I’m too ticklish haha! O-oh god… that’s too much! Hehehe please… gasp stop! Hehehehe!”

Lucifer was really trying his best to free himself from niffty’s grasp but when he finally was able to grab her and throw her to the ground, she would just simply go back to climbing on him and continuing to tickle him.

He could feel himself being exhausted from the constant laughter as his breath became heavy.

“N-Niffty… plehehease! Hehe… st-stop! Hahaha! you’re gonna… hehe make… me hahahaha! p-pass out…!”

Niffty didn’t pay any mind as she saw his struggles, she only saw it as part of the fun.

“so ticklish, so much fun!” She giggled as she didn’t let up on the tickling. “Hehe, you’re not getting rid of me just yet!”

She used her now free hand and began to tickl under his arms, adding on to his many spots of ticklishness.

Lucifer let out a giggle of pure desperation as Niffty continued to tickle him until he began to feel his sides becoming sore as he began to squirm more violently.

“Niffty…! oh god HAHAHA!… PLEASE…! HAHAHA! I-I beg you n-not... t-the armpits hehehe…HAHAHAHA! NOT MY ARMPITS!” Lucifer began to laugh hysterically.

The demon simply giggled as she heard Lucifer’s pleas, she found it quite funny how desperate he was.

“Oh oh oh, ticklish armpits are we? Hehe how interesting!” Niffty giggled before wrapping her legs around Lucifer’s side as well, Now with both of his sides tickled mercilessly, his desperate laughs only fueled her excitement.

Lucifer had completely exhausted his voice at this point as Niffty was still doing her usual teasing, His muscles were tense and sore and his breathing heavy as Niffty had continued to tickle and hold onto him.

At this point Lucifer was just asking for help from Charlie or whoever would listen to him so they would take the crazy maid away from him.

Lucifer made a small and desperate squeak of embarrassment as he looked around desperately hoping someone could come and save him from niffty.

"CHAHAHARLIE! HAHAHA! Somebody...!! Plehehease take her off me!!"

suddenly lucifer heard footsteps approaching including slow applause.

"You did well niffty!" It was Alastor with his typical sadistic smile while Niffty smiled back at him and got off Lucifer to go with Alastor.

Lucifer was completely breathless as he took a second to calm himself before looking at alastor, his eyes narrowed as he looked at him.

So niffty was with alastor? ...Oh he was the one who told her to tickle me! That damn son of a bitch!

Lucifer was very obviously annoyed by alastor’s actions and wasn’t letting it slide, He was just about to yell at alastor for what he and niffty did but he was interrupted by niffty happily skipping along by alastor side before waving goodbye

Lucifer looked as niffty waved at him with a cheeky smirk before alastor dragged her away with him laughing the whole way.

"nice laugh your highness"

Lucifer sighed and put a hand to his forehead as he looked at the floor with anger in his eyes, he sat in his armchair in the hotel room just thinking about everything that had happened and was still fuming, he was still so angry at alastor for what he had put him through.

He wasn’t going to just let this slide, he was going to get payback and that’s final.

#tickling #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel #lee!lucifer #ler!niffty #alastor #lucifer #thank you hazbin hotel for giving me back the desire to write #lucifer morningstar #tickle fanfiction #tickles #geowrites!

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dyingturn · 1 year ago

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Time travel au where at chapter 2, shin gets voted at the main game and wakes up in his highschool body. And he does everything he can to avoid sou to not get involved with the death game.

Alright, to be honest all I know is that shin met sou at his highschool, thought he was student, realized he wasn't. But they somehow became friends, (or he saw midori as a brother figure?).

I just think it would be funny how shin would react just from going back to class, seeing these people he forgot the names of, and studying... again. Of course he wasn't paying attention to that at all, he's confused, he was literally just fighting for his life to make the Joe ai work before he dies and now he's here?? What if this wasn't even real.

Anyways, he walks down to the hallway, and he sees it. A familiar green rat tailed hair, who's just smiling at him. No- he's dead. But...

Sou approaches him with that eerie smile of his and tries to have a small talk. Instead of answering he just ignores him, and when he pesters him long enough he just glares at him, before running off.

I'm thinking this would probably intrigue sou because shin isn't really acting like his past self and is wondering what event led to this drastic personality change and behaviour. And observes him even more. (Imagine if one day, sou actually transfers to the school just to do that, I know he can't but just imagine--)

(Because if he does, he would be able to pry more information from shin and shin would sometimes slip up when agitated/over confident like what happened at the main game, and sou was able to put together that shin either a) knows about asunaro therefore him b) pretty far fetched but time travel or something similar like false memories c) knows about the death game )

I have no clue how to end this, I'm not thinking of this au as a ship but more of a trying to avoid death flag kind of thing. Maybe he achieves avoiding sou and now lives a pretty normal life, hears about the news of Alice going to prison, not his problem but it Is concerning. And then wakes up at the death game, and was like "not again", but surprisingly, his percentage is different now.

Or maybe y'know, he meets or sees the other participants. The whiplash he gets when he sees keiji without his piss hair, sees q-taro in the television, passing by a delinquent looking mishima or something, I have no clue.

That's basically it. I'm sleeping early today, yeyy.

#yttd #your turn to die #aus #just some thoughts #again if you guys know any fics like this #i would love to read it #please tell me #i really cant write #this is how i ask for fics now hahahaha #im not really thinking of this as a ship #i just really like isekai or time travel fics #which yttd fics kind of lacks #or maybe i just havent found it #pls tell me some if you guys know some ^^#just realized this is like a typical isekai mc moment #avoiding someone because they lead to their impending doom or something

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polarisbibliotheque · 6 months ago

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Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

youtube

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

#devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #dmc #dmc imagine #vergil x reader #vergil imagine #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfiction #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #devil may music #song fic requests #cirice #cirice ghost #there aaaaare a few references to other things sprinkled here and there #the nostalgia and haziness from secular haze and ghuleh/zombie queen #but the whole Eva thing was the zombie queen nostalgia #never let go? that's from Titanic #the two thundering noises being the thundering drums from the song #the holding hands from the video from the scene that killed me in Matrix and my drawing when I was 15 y/o #seriously it's a recurring imagery in my life and I'm always ??? so it's in here too #I won't suffer alone #for some reason I sometimes sing 'I can see through the stars inside you'#and that's where the reader's 'I can see beyond your glimmer and I don't fear the dark' comes from #and that silly little ending at the shop was just a thing to tie it all together #OH! THE HELL PIRANHAS! Totally inspired by those shadow piranhas from the library planet episode in Doctor Who #the whole concept of those things just creeps me out #if some lost soul from the Ghost fandom fell here by chance or mistake do apologize #I need to tag things properly in this blog to update my masterlist forgotten in the abyss so finding it by cirice will be easier #Youtube

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