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starrykaulitz · 10 months

Note

could you write walking in on bill and tom jerking off (separately obviously)💀

$. caught.

☆ synopsis ; you walk in on bill and tom “pleasuring” themselves (SEPARATE SCENARIOS FOR EACH BROTHER!!)

★ pairing ; bill x fem!reader, tom x fem!reader

☆ word count ; 2121

★ warnings ; language, smut (18+), dirty talk?, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation.

a/n – hi so I cannot do headcannons to save myself so here are short lil drabbles of what unrealistically would happen if u walked in on them, hope this is okay :)

☆

BILL :

your face dropped, the bag once gripped within your hand—contents including aldi snacks—plummeted roughly to the floor beside you.

bill’s face mimicked your own, instantly turning a dark scarlet. he couldn’t get a hold of the blanket beside him fast enough as he attempted to cover the erection gripped within his right hand.

the room was filled with silence, not even breathing could be heard between the two of you before bill blinked for the first time in what felt to be hours.

“i-i am so sorry…” the boy stuttered, his voice throaty and sick as he instantly shut the laptop beside him.

“no, no…” you attempted to find the will to speak, to say anything to rid of the rising tension between his crotch and the way you almost began salivating at what you saw.

“its…” you began, though was harshly cut-off at the way you envisioned bill’s mouth hanging open, erotic moans and groans leaving his strong lungs as he watched your head bop up and down on what he once was touching himself.

you swallowed the thought, biting your bottom lip as the invisible restraints within you held you back from pouncing on the man and finishing what he had started.

“it’s my fault…” you finally let out, eyes roaming bill’s suggestive state-- sweat glistened on his fore-head, long-black locks clinging to his neck from the high he had been chasing, the way his shirt was prompted just above his star tattoo, revealing his flexed muscles as he lent against the bed-head—all making you do the rather rash thing in which your body found to be instinctive.

stalking forward, his dark eyes had not left yours once, studying each and every slight movement you made.

you felt the soft bedding beneath your knees as you climbed on top of the dumbfounded boy—god, he looked sexy without makeup.

he watched as your legs encircled his own, straddling him as you removed your jacket and threw it to the floor—he licked his lips, tongue ring present for only moments before he felt your hand at the peak of the sheet covering what you needed in your possession oh so gravely.

you shuffled backward, the blanket gripped in your shivering fingertips following in suit until it revealed his still hard cock. it was large, larger than what your eyes had first tasted.

the way the pre-cum seeped out of its tip was something you had only dreamed off—the position of your tongue licking the base of his cock something that bill had only seen within his heated fantasies.

he seethed as he watched your palm slowly spread your own spit, combined with his pre-cum, up and down his length. bills hand instantly met roughly with the blanket beneath him as he groped harshly at its soft fabric.

you couldn’t wait any longer—you needed to hear the pitiable boy beneath you whine. and as you licked his blossom-pink tip, his sounds did not disappoint. you began drawing circles around it before your throat slowly lowered to the base of his cock. you groaned as his size hit the back of your throat, eyes already beginning to water before you mentally prepared to finish what he’d started.

he cursed under his breath as his manicured hand pulled his shirt up higher on his stomach-- making sure to witness everything you’d been doing to his already close cock—the ironic situation being that he’d been jerking off to exactly what was now a reality.

your pace started unhurried as you could already feel the length twitching within your throat, figuring that he must’ve been close to finishing before you’d rudely barged in.

as your pace quickened, so did his rapid breathing. the way you began to gag on his dick only making him beyond vocal as he slurred on his words, fighting the moans which escaped his raw throat.

“fuck…” he whined again, “im s-so close…” bill’s mouth whining your name only made you accelerate your speed, instantly forcing another moan out of him.

“i-i…” his breath caught in his throat. he attempted to swallow it down with him though could only groan, teeth seething as he felt pure euphoria from your warm throat.

his head shot backward till it lent against the bed-head behind him, your eyes lifting to watch his chest rise and fall whilst your mouth dealt with his shuddering dick.

as you watched bill find the strength to bring his neck upward once-more, instantly locking eyes with your own, his mouth fell agape. the way your mouth engulfed his length so easily, the sound of your sloppy gagging on his cock, he couldn’t handle it.

“i-im coming…” his knuckles became white as he drilled them into the bed, moaning loudly as his long awaited high slammed into him, eyes rolling to the back of his head being followed by a string of curses.

you felt his warm seed hit the back of your throat, the salty taste soon fading as you lifted yourself off his dick hesitantly.

you held the taste on your tongue as your hands met with his chin, forcing his head off the support of the bed-board and drawing his attention to your mouth. you made him watch as his cum, once flattened against your tongue, now travelled down your throat. he panted through an open mouth, watching intently as you licked the excess liquid from your lips.

TOM :

“ill be right back.” you yawned, looking to bill who rested contentedly next to you, his eyes not leaving the TV screen for even a moment.

you were to make sure you were quick—going to the toilet, washing hands, and sprinting back downstairs as to not miss any of the movie—this was your initial plan.

as your feet leapt from one step too another—missing every second plank—you turned down the corridor until reaching the door in which you’d been looking for.

without a second thought, you rushed inside. immediately regretting your hasty choice, you jumped backward at the sight in front of you.

tom, leaning against the tiled wall within the shower, held his erection within his fist. as he heard the door swing open, he lifted his head instantly to the noise and jumped just as you had.

“tom, fuck!” you yelped before turning around and stamping your foot on the floor.

“how in fuck is this my fault!?” he screamed over the running water, “didn’t you hear the shower running?”

come to think of it, no, you hadn’t. you had been in too much of a rush to even realise someone had been inside the room you so desperately needed—your original motive instantly being forgotten after this crude incident.

“fuck, i’m sorry, alright?” you mumbled before making your way back to where you had just been—though suddenly something gripped at your wrist. you were met with wet, soggy fingers pulling you toward them.

tom had his well-known devilish smirk painted across his face, watching your shocked expression as you choked back a yelp once your face met with the warmth of running water.

“tom, fuck off!” it was too late to escape, you were soaked. you turned to face away from his naked body, eyes shut as his grip remained stagnant on your wrist.

the pyjama shorts and crop-top which were once white became only a transparent grey. as you realised this, your arms instantly wrapped around your body—no, they weren’t your arms; they were tom’s.

you felt his heavy, damp dreads fall to your shoulder as his face stopped beside your right ear.

“turn around.” he whispered against the delicate skin of your ear-lobe, your thighs instinctively pressing together as you felt a heat begin budding within you.

you had no choice but to oblige to his demand, and as you did, you were met with first, his naked legs, eyes moving upward until they reached his own brown-ones. his teeth were almost perfectly white, his smirk horribly irresistible as you watched him gradually lean into your neck, beginning to plant feverish kisses to it’s damp surface.

you couldn’t help but extend it for him further, allowing tom to fully take advantage of the space between you and your now soaked shirt—a good day to be bra-less.

you felt as his calloused fingers began roaming your curves, digging into your waist before your own fingers began pulling on his wet dreads—let loose and out of their usual up-do.

your thumb met his jaw, dragging his face out of your neck and toward your lips. instantly, his tongue licked at the corners of your mouth before entering. as they fought for dominance, fought for air, he had won, pushing you against the wall before he launched into groping at your exposed boobs.

he palmed at them, massaging them until his hands lowered to the hem of your shorts. you gasped as you felt his slick digit instantly enter your aching entry—he felt no need in preparing you.

“fuck, tom!” you clung to his back as your chests met one-another, slippery surfaces causing intense friction. his fingers curled inside you, causing you to cry out in pure pleasure as your nails dug into his back. you felt his mouth twist into an upward grin, he appreciated each and every noise leaving your plump lips.

then, another finger had begun pumping into you.

you whined his name against the crook of his neck, beginning to find it difficult to hold yourself upright as his pace only quickened, roughened.

then, he pulled himself away, your bodies parting making you whine as his warmth disappeared and you were hit with the steam of the shower. though as his fingers left you craving his touch, you watched tom kaulitz begin to get on his knees, his fingers swiping a group of dreads behind his ear before his hands gripped at the soft plush of your thighs.

parting them gently, soft lips trailed small kisses until they had reached your aching centre.

his fingers curled around your soaked shorts and pulled them to the floor, eyeing your clean bud before you felt his tongue lap at its folds.

again, you cried out his name amongst the sound of the running water which drummed against the tiles below.

the sensation of his lip-ring against your slick entrance caused your legs to go weak as his experienced tongue lapped up any juices he could. he was hungry, starving, eating you as if you were his prey.

“you taste…” another lick, “so fucking good.” he mumbled against you, causing intense vibrations to be sent straight to your uterus.

“keep going…” you mumbled, you couldn’t help but grip at the lose dread-locks hanging delicately around his jaw as he admired you from below—watching each erotic expression you made which only helped the hand that had begun working at himself.

he had been so desperate to please you for so long-- long enough to make him kneel to you and praise your pussy.

you looked down, watching as the hand working at himself caused his eyes to shut tightly. his free hand began to snake its way to your lower stomach, pressing down gently against it, forcing another whine out of you as you felt yourself nearing closer and closer to your end.

“im so close… please…” you begged as your head hit the fogged tiles behind you—the same tiles in which tom had been leaning on for support only moments ago.

and as his tongue entered you one final time, his enflamed lips rubbing against your sensitive clit, you felt your guts twist and pull until you’d felt your high hit you.

you moaned his name over and over as euphoria layered itself upon your heavy eye-lids, squeezing them shut as you felt tom lick your slick away, before finally his tongue glided over his lips—they were covered your juices.

you looked below, eyes meeting with the white liquid which now lay on tom’s tanned thighs. your breath was heavy, laboured, and your body felt to be on fire as you fought against the shower’s mist.

you noticed that tom had been in a similar state, his position painting him in a completely different light as he slowly lifted himself from his knees to an up-right position—you forgot how tall he was as he towered over your now pathetic, trembling body.

“take off the shirt, I can see everything anyways.”

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x oc #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader

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roguerambles · 1 year

Text

Build up and Climax Part 2

Record of Ragnarok - Raiden x Male!Reader

Warnings - NSFW. 18+Only. Adult Situations

I’m not very happy with this one, but its been sitting in my drafts for ages and Raiden deserves more love, so here is my humble offering.

You were faster than you looked.

Raiden had never been one for games, even sexy ones – he liked to get to the hot and heavy, flesh against flesh, thighs around his hips and nails down his back, his partners screaming his name sooner rather than later. Teasing wasn’t his thing.

Still, he’d be lying if he said this little chase, you with your eyes glinting and smile wicked, your body bare to the world, wasn’t seriously getting his blood pumping. You were like one of those nymphs he’d heard of, leading him deeper into the depths of the arena with lustful promises, of him getting his hands on your gorgeous body, feeling you writhing and panting beneath him—

Fuck, he was so turned on.

You darted through a set of doors, and Raiden recognised the corridor leading to his rooms. Excitement thrummed through his body, and he practically knocked the door off its hinges as he rammed his shoulder into them, sending them flying open.

“You took your time.”

You gave him an amused grin, already lain amongst the pile of pillows and blankets on his bed, naked and ready for him, and for a second Raiden thought he might be salivating.

You were so fucking pretty, all over, and he wanted to explore every inch of you. “Well?” You asked airily, your smile sweeter than sin, your thighs parting slightly, invitingly. “What are you waiting for?”

Fuck, he was in love.

Raiden grabbed his belt, roughly pushing it down, letting it fall around his ankles before kicking it sharply aside. He felt himself spring free, a fire sparking in his belly at the way you audibly gasped as your gaze fell below his waist, the way your eyes darkened with hunger. Raiden grinned and advanced towards you, heat searing through his veins, needing to close the gap between you.

He'd never fucked a god before, and he wanted to change that now.

He leapt into the air, intent on pinning you down and ploughing you until you were hoarse from screaming his name. You flashed a coy grin, and in a sharp movement lifted your arm, your palm slamming into his chest. You twisted around, using his momentum to send him crashing onto his back – a move he could have easily out-manoeuvred, in truth, but the sight of you sliding on top of him, perched on his waist, you thighs around his waist, was the sexiest thing he’d seen in a while, so he let it slide.

He reached for you eagerly, already envisioning how good you’d look riding on top of him, when you flashed him a wicked grin. His arms suddenly stopped short, and Raiden glanced up, puzzled, only to see thin strips of rope coiling slowly around his wrists, tugging his arms over his head.

“…huh?”

He tugged, then yanked, then pulled hard, but his wrists remained bound. He looked back up at you, to your pretty, grinning face, and huffed to himself.

…he wasn’t much for games, but it seemed you were.

Raiden looked good in rope.

His spectacular musculature flexed and contracted with every movement, straining against the confines of the slender knots forming around his wrists. They were enchanted enough that even a God would struggle to break free, although you were beginning to wonder if Raiden was strong enough to break free.

Raiden tilted his head, peering up at you, giving his bindings an experimental tug. He was actually pouting. “Come on, pretty boy.” He groaned miserably, his massive body slumping back on the bed. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind…”

You grinned slightly, lightly trailing your fingertips along the thick, powerful muscle of his thigh. Raiden groaned, his thighs parting, his cock springing eagerly to attention—sweet fucking Eros—

You forced your gaze upwards, meeting Raiden’s eyes with a coy, seductive smile. “Oh?” You caressed his thigh firmly, your gut tightening as Raiden groaned happily, his body arching eagerly into your touch. “And what did you have in mind?”

“Untie me and I’ll show you.”

You pretended to think about it, your fingers dancing across his thigh and coiling around his length, stroking slowly up and down. Raiden hissed, his chest heaving as he thrust his hips upwards. “I don’t know…I think I like you as is.”

“Ooh…ooh…fuck, come on, pretty boy, at least use your mouth or something—”

Your fingers danced over his length quick and clever, and Raiden cursed and bucked his hips, hissing through gritted teeth, his eyes darkening with desire as he grinned ferally up at you.

You smiled innocently. “Say please.”

“I fucking love you—”

“You’re sweet.” You slowly stroked across his leaking tip – Raiden whined, his thighs quivering. “Now say please.”

“Please, please, please let me fuck you—”

“Well, that was fast.” You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You gave up that easy?”

“I know what I want.” Raiden was practically vibrating, the muscles of his arms bulging and straining against his bindings.

“And what…” You leaned over him, letting your body rub softly against his, your lips against his jaw. “…do you want?”

Crack—

The posts snapped, wood splintering, but you didn’t care. Raiden’s hands closed around your waist, his grin practically feral as he yanked your hips down, his length sliding between your thighs—

Heat seared through you, so fierce and hard you cried out, your head snapping backwards as pure sensation flooded your senses in a haze of sweet red. Below you, Raiden groaned and growled, his hips rolling and bucking, sliding deeper and deeper into you.

“Fuck.” He cursed between gritted teeth, his muscles flexing and contracting under your fingers, his hands sliding up and down your hips and thighs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so good—"

His hands guided you up and down, his thick, powerful thighs flexing beneath you, his head thrown back, moaning and grunting, his abdomen clenching with each thrust. You fell forward, palms splayed on his warm chest, bracing yourself as you rocked your hips in a hard rhythm, making him shout and roar with approval. Your own length rubbed furiously against his lower abdomen, fire spilling in your belly.

“Raiden—” You gasped out, rolling your hips hard and fast, the heat building rapidly from deep within.

“Oh, gods, say my name, say it again—”

Raiden’s hand roughly smacked your rear, making you yelp, your hips stuttering, lightning searing through you. He grinned wildly up at you, eyes blown black with lust. You surged down, crushing your lips to his, teeth and tongue clashing as he moaned, fingers digging into your skin as he bucked into you, over and over—

“Raiden—” Your gut felt hot and tight, something inside pulling taunt, threatening to snap. “Raiden—!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes—”

Raiden’s release struck with the force of a tidal wave, a roar spilling from his lips from deep within his chest. Fire collided with fire, searing deep in your belly, and a cry spilled from your lips as you bucked against him, your own pleasure overwhelming you.

You lost count of how many times you came together. You had met Gods with less stamina than Raiden seemed to possess, his body hard and hot and contracting, hips thrusting in a seemingly never ending search for release. You were certain half the arena could hear the noises you were making, but it was impossible to care about anything other than Raiden’s hips slamming into you, his hands roaming your body, his mouth hot against your skin, his groans and growls and shouts of pleasure as he filled you so completely. Your bodies became a hazy, heated frenzy of grasping, writhing limbs, fingers raking over flesh, the sheets tangled in your sweaty bodies. At some point bedside table was knocked over, its contents splashing across the floor along with shattered glass, but you were both far too consumed with each other to care.

You were spent, nerves singing from the aftershocks of your final climax, body quivering as Raiden thrust into you from behind, his hands stroking your hips, his face buried in your neck.

“Ah…ah…gods…oh…”

“Raiden.” You breathed his name, fingers absently stroking his wrists. Raiden hissed and his hips stuttered, a quiet roar rumbling from his throat as his release hit, flooding you with blissful heat. He collapsed beside you on the pillows, a huge arm draping over your waist.

“Fuck…” He murmured against your neck. You chuckled vaguely, boneless from pleasure, and leaned back against his glorious chest. He tugged you close, his lips brushing against your shoulder in a surprisingly tender manner.

You tumbled into sleep, Raiden’s warmth at your back.

“There you are!”

A loud voice shook you roughly from sleep. Raiden grumbled something incoherently under his breath, burying his face in your neck, his arm draped over your side. You blinked blearily, tilting your head upwards, catching the sight of a wry grin and blue skin.

“…Lord Shiva?”

“Fucking the enemy during Ragnarok?” Shiva looked thoroughly amused, his lower set of arms crossed loosely in front of him. “Aphrodite might be proud enough she’ll forget to be mad at you.”

You groaned slightly, flopping back against Raiden’s chest, feeling his arms pull more snugly around you. “I thought you were fighting soon?” You mumbled. “Why are you running errands for my mother?”

“Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed…”

“Actually, I’m on a great side of the bed.” You wriggled slightly against Raiden, feeling him stirring beneath you, and you really wanted to focus on that. “Can you just tell her you couldn’t find me?”

Shiva adopted a thoughtful expression, one set of hands on his hips, the others folding behind his head. “You would have me lie for you?” He shook his head, tsking at you, his face morphing into a grin. “For nothing? Such boldness.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, letting your eyes trail upwards over Shiva’s sculpted abdomen and toned chest, the bulging biceps of his arms – you’d always had a weakness for arms and Shiva had four. “I can make it worth your while.”

“…and your friend there would want that?” Shiva raised an eyebrow questioningly, but you caught the subtle way his eyes slid over you and Raiden both, the unmistakable interest stirring in his gaze. The sight of it send a shiver down your back, the idea of having Raiden and Shiva both at once…

You drove your elbow back into Raiden’s chest, with a little more force than needed. He startled awake with a grunt, his hand gripping your hip. “Hey—! What the fuck…woah—”

He blinked at Shiva a few times, his stupefied expression melting into a lazy grin. “Damn.”

Shiva’s eyebrow arched slightly. “Hello to you too.”

“Does that answer your question?” You stretched out against Raiden, angling your body, the sheets slipping around your hips. “What’s the old saying? Know thy enemy?”

“I don’t think it meant quite like this.” Shiva noted dryly, but his smile told you everything you needed to know. His thumbs hooked around his waistband, tugging until his pants slid down his hips and past his thighs—

“Holy fuck.” Raiden was definitely awake now, his breath quickening and body hardening underneath you, his fingers digging into your hips. “Please say you’re into sharing—”

You laughed, pushing back into Raiden’s chest as Shiva moved onto the bed with cat-like grace, his multiple hands reaching for you and Raiden both as the three of you melted into each other, a tangle of grasping hands and limbs.

“Yes. Very much so.”

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok fanfic #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok x male reader #record of ragnarok raiden x reader #record of ragnarok raiden tameemon x reader #record of ragnarok raiden #record of ragnarok raiden tameemon #ror raiden tameemon #snv raiden x reader #snv raiden #snv raiden tameemon x reader #snv raiden tameemon #snv raiden tameemon x male reader #snv x reader #snv x male reader #ror raiden x reader

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wheresmymilliondollarman · 1 year

Text

aaron warner x ferrars!reader

hcs about being juliette’s sister and aaron being enamoured by you.

(taken place during shatter me /some of unravel me)

a/n: this is a borderline fic, but i used bullet points so i’m labeling it as hcs (LOL). i use the hayden fancast, but feel free to envision aaron as you want. reader and juliette aren’t biologically related but both adopted & grew up together thinking they were related by blood. you’ll likely being seeing me use juliette more than ella bc i prefer it and confuses less. readers powers similar to emmaline, but differs. (heavily took inspo from jean grey & wanda maximoff) timeline changes a bit. also i don’t exactly know/remember how school worked during the book so i’m just going by my own experiences LMAO. lmk if you are interested in a part 2!

word count: 9.6k

warnings: mentions of mental and physical abuse, gun violence, mentions of injuries and blood, some swearing, long backstory, grammar errors and spelling mistakes

you and juliette were the same age; you were younger by a few months. however, due to how close your birthdays were, your “parents” decided you both would be played off as twins to yourselves and everyone else. of course, growing up you did see the differences in appearance between you and juliette, but your parents assured you it was due to being fraternal twins.

you both were very close sisters; you shared a small bedroom in your home. facing the abuse from both your parents brought you even closer. you both shared your thoughts, secrets, feelings, and anything else with each other. anytime your parents shouted at you, hit you, or berated you, juliette was there with open arms to comfort you - telling you it would be okay. even tho she wasn’t sure herself. you returned the favor vice versa.

similar to juliette, you also discovered you had a curse gift at a young age. instead of a lethal touch, however, you were gifted with the ability of mental manipulation. you began to discover the nature of your ability when voices that weren’t your own, were suddenly heard in your head whenever you neared another person. being only 6, you thought you were going insane and tried to confide in your mother. she did not take well to this and scolded you for being a liar and attention seeker. she urged you never to mention this to anyone ever, or else you would be seen as a psycho freak and bring shame to the family.

after that, you were too ashamed to even mention it to juliette, afraid she would react negatively too. eventually, you were able to piece together that the voices were actually the thoughts of others. you hated your gift; it felt like an invasion of other's privacy. you would never want someone to listen to your every thought, so why should you listen to people's. it was even worse, you couldn’t control it to prevent the unwarranted thoughts. you did what you could to try to avoid reading minds, luckily, being an outcast had its advantages because if people remained far enough, you weren’t able to hear their minds. you were cautious around juliette because you would never want to take advantage of the privacy of her mind.

even before the accident that revealed juliette’s gift, you both were never popular among your peers. your shy personalities made most assume you were just weirdos, and as a kid, that’s the worst possible title to have when you wanna make friends. of course, there was a boy named adam kent who was occasionally kind to you both, but you could tell his interest was more focused on juliette. based on a few thoughts of juliette’s you unintentionally listened to - you knew she was forming a small crush on adam.

at one point, you were able to conjure a friend of your own during one recess. you noticed a girl in your grade, sabrina, crying behind the slide on an afternoon, and found out the reason for her distress was a bad grade on a math assignment. while sabrina didn’t tell you directly, you were able to piece together the strictness of her parents based on her thoughts. you felt sympathetic towards her, you knew how harsh parents could be on school grades. it was then you offered to help her with her assignments to prevent her from failing. the girl seemed reluctant at first, and her mind was filled with not-so-nice thoughts on you & juliettes reputation, but finally, she accepted your offer.

sabrina’s thoughts on you were pretty negative the first few times you got together to study, she was embarrassed to be seen hanging with you, and she didn’t want to get a bad reputation among the class too. as you hung out more, you partnership turned into a real friendship. she sat with you for a few minutes at lunch before returning to her own group, and you were invited to her house to hang out on a few occasions. sometimes like juliette, you did your best to turn a blind eye to her thoughts for the sake of her privacy - this was your first official friend, and you didn’t wanna mess it up.

however, you did mess it up in the end. you and sabrina were friends for almost a whole school year, and you truly believed she was your best friend. any negative thoughts she had originally were nowhere to be found and replaced with mundane ones about school, family, hobbies, etc. at this point, you were still struggling to learn the extent of your abilities and having no one to confide in really affected you. you decided you could trust sabrina with your secret, and maybe just maybe, she wouldn’t hate you, and you could grow even closers as best friend.

you were totally, indefinitely, absolutely wrong. when you confessed your mind-reading capabilities to sabrina, she laughed at you, thinking you were joking, however, after you proved her wrong by reciting phrases, word by word, spoken in her mind, she flipped out. she called you every synonym to the word freak she could come up with and ran away from you. to make matters worse she told her friends about your ability, imploring them to stay away too. of course, you were already labeled a weirdo, so why wouldn’t they believe the weirdo is actually weird. it spread to the entirety of the school which caused everyone to distance themselves from you even more. no one could trust a mind reader, much less have them as a friend when they could read your every thought.

juliette was quick to confront you at home, in your shared bedroom, about the rumors that spread. you were quicker to break down and confess the rumors were true, how horrible having this ability has been, and the betrayal of your best friend. you thought juliette would also be disgusted with you and make a demand to our parents that you should be sent away and stay very far from her. the fears you had were shut down the moment juliette hugged you tightly and told you she loved you anyway and that she was here to support you in any way she could.

after you calmed down a bit, you went on to explain your gift, how you found out, and how you felt alone in this whole mess. you were also quick to add on how you did your best to stray from listening in on any thoughts juliette had. your sister assured you she thought no less of you, and it wasn’t your fault you had this gift. she even joked about how she needs to remember to not think about any birthday gifts around you. you let out a soft laugh and were eternally grateful you had such an amazing and understanding sister.

it wasn’t a shock that soon your parents soon became aware of what everyone at school was saying about you - you were sure it had already spread throughout the town. they berated you for causing embarrassment and shame to your family. unlike juliette, they treated you with disgust, making sure you knew how much of a disappointment you were. next thing you knew, you were pulled out of school for a few weeks, being homeschooled instead. if you didn’t have the comfort of juliette in your room, you would’ve been incredibly lonely in your isolation.

it didn't end there however; you were sent to multiple therapists. your parents hoped it could help “cure” you of your “disease,” as they liked to call it. you tried multiple types of therapies, even electroshock, when your parents were especially desperate. it was a complete physical and mental torture and made you resent yourself for your gift even more. you weren’t able to see juliette as often, a few times a month if you were lucky. you wanted nothing more than her warm embrace and reassuring words.

the final straw for your parents was when juliette accidentally killed a young boy with her touch. many believe it was done purposely, even though she was only trying to save that boy. your parents were even more horrified at this point. not only did they have one freak of nature daughter, they now had two.

you and juliette were both taken away and sent to scientists to be studied and tested on from then on. they experimented on you constantly and tied you down to the lab bed to prevent you from moving. you were beginning to prefer the therapies. hearing juliette’s yells of pain from the table next to yours made you want to kill hurt the scientists badly. it was worse when you knew from their thoughts they had no remorse either but were heavily fascinated with both of your guys’ abilities. it hurt you to know your sister was going through the same thing, and it infuriated you how they treated you both like wild animals. neither of you asked to be born with this curse.

eventually, you and your sister were both sent to the asylum quickly after that. while the events that brought you here were poor, you were grateful to share a room and be close to your sister again, even in a hell like that. juliette, however, didn't allow you too near her - afraid she would hurt you as well. you tried to reassure her that she’s never hurt you in any way, and that she’s touched you before the accident, but she didn’t want to risk it. you understood, if you thought there was even just a chance you would hurt and possibly kill juliette, you wouldn’t take it.

nonetheless, you still did your best to comfort each other in the harsh environment. it was still hard to be happy in the asylum; the treatment didn’t differ much from home. still seen as weird freaks by guards. when the morale was low, you did your best to bring up any happy memories the two of you shared, and juliette would let a small smile grow on her face here and there. however, you couldn’t help but grow lonelier and a bit insane as the days passed. you were too distraught with your own thoughts to really listen in on juliettes, but from bits, you heard you were able to piece this place was also affecting her mentally.

it was after 264 days (juliette made sure to keep track of the days they were there) that the guards brought in another prisoner, more specifically, a man. you thought this was a cruel joke from the guards; why would they add someone else to those closed spaces.

while you were against listening to the thoughts of others without their knowledge, you needed to make sure this guy wasn’t going to be a threat to you or juliette. however, you heard nothing. no thoughts, no images, no voice - it was silent. you were stunned; this was the first time you haven’t been able to read someone's mind. you probably would’ve been happy if it weren’t for the fact you actually wanted to know this guy’s thoughts.

adam, you learned your roommate’s name was, was an asshole the first few nights. it started when, without even saying anything, he took over both yours and juliette’s beds for himself, even taking what little blanket and pillows you had. you protested immediately and got up to try and take back your beds, but juliette pulled on your shirt, reeling you back. she insisted the fight wasn’t worth it. you gave in, but still insisted to adam he at least gave you a blanket so you both didn’t freeze to death. he gave you a deep glare but relented anyway.

those nights you and juliette would huddle in a corner to try your best to sleep, using what you could spare of the blanket to separate juliette from touching you directly. you whispered to juliette about how you couldn’t read his mind, and she seemed as stumped as you were.

adam eventually gave you a bed back so you could sleep a bit comfier. you thanked him, even though he shouldn’t have taken it in the first place, but wanted to remain peaceful. juliette insisted you both help him adjust to the routine here to return the favor. he began to try to press on any backstory about you and juliette, and juliette often responded for the both of you, never giving much information. she also was adamant he seemed quite familiar, but she didn’t know why.

the three of you became somewhat friends, and it would’ve been nicer if you all weren’t stuck in a hell hole. still, you and juliette was able to learn more about the current world through adam; things seemed to be darker than they were 3 years ago. you could sense adam and juliette were forming an unspoken attachment, but you never pressed juliette on it. some nights you would try to go to bed early to give them the privacy to talk.

you were startled awake one morning by the sound of yelling and guards entering the cell. you turned to juliette to question her on what was happening, but before she could even form a response, you were both pulled roughly by guards and pushed on the ground. they yelled at you to not move or speak, but you still called out to your sister and tried to reach her - which got you a horrible kick to the ribs. you don’t remember much, only vaguely hearing some yelling from adam. before your vision went black.

the next time you woke up, you were, once again, in what seemed a prison cell. after gaining little strength to sit up, you found juliette next to you - barely waking up herself. you threw each other worried glances, and she mouthed to you it was going to be alright. but you knew from her mind she was already panicking as well.

the door opened behind you, but you were still a little out of it and too focused on juliette to look as quickly as she did. suddenly her face looked like she saw a ghost. you threw a confused glance to, which she ignored, so you followed your line of vision - adam. based on his attire matching the other guards that entered the room, you knew that meant he was working with them. both sisters were heavily confused about what was going on, but adam was quick to demand that the two of you get up, threatening you with the gun in his hand.

you both were led to a dark room that suddenly filled with light after you walked in. before your vision could adjust to the light again, a voice called out to the guards to bring you and juliette closer - this prompt them to shoved you with the butt of their guns.

first thing you noticed was that a man sat before you on a folding chair. the man couldn’t have been that much older than you - he was tall, maybe 6′0 ft, give or take, he had a head full of golden blonde wavy hair, his attire seemed that of a general (decorated with different medallions), and his eyes were a piercing green. he looked straight out of a victorian painting; he was surreal to look at. his presence gave that it demanded respect, and based on the fearful thoughts of the soldiers behind you, he always got it. he was gorgeous intimidating.

you noticed a name tag on his attire - warner, it said.

“ferrars sisters, we meet at last.”

you and juliette remained silent, still not fully understanding what was happening. he leaned closer toward you two, and without even thinking, you stepped in front of your sister. this seemed to intrigue warner, making a crooked smile on his lips.

he continued anyway - going on to explain adam’s role in the asylum. but as soon as you heard the word kent - you put it together and knew juliette had done the same. adam was the same boy from all the years ago - the one juliette constantly thought of to this day. it took everything in you to not turn to adam at that moment. you knew this betrayal was affecting juliette as well.

not waiting for your reactions, warner went on to say he had a proposition for the both of you to join the reestablishment. you then learned he knew about the abilities you both have; he had been studying the two of you for years.

creep, you thought. but after a wide-eyed glance from juliette and a painful kick to the back from the soldier behind you, you realized you had said that aloud. warner gave a stern look your way, but saw a small glint in his eyes. maybe it was just in your head.

warner still went on to say how you could put your abilities to use in the reestablishment, but you knew he meant that juliette could torture people while you could always know what someone was thinking - seek out any traitors.

you were furious with this situation and the fact warner seemed to think you two would want to hurt people willingly just because you had gifts. you spoke before you even realized it, “oh, i’m just dying to join the reestablishment after they’ve isolated juliette and i and studied us like we were animals.”

you were once again kicked, but this time to the ground - juliette even shouted at the guard a bit in protest. warner held up his hand to say it was enough. as you were getting up (agonizingly), you show warner getting up from his chair and walking closer to you.

when he stood a foot or two in front of you, he stared at you intensely. you just wanted to crawl into a corner at that moment, his pale emerald eyes made you feel like he could see through you. you then registered another thing. you couldn’t read his mind either.

juliette decided to speak up this time, “what my sister means, is that we have no interest in joining you.”

warners gaze seemed disappointed at this. he glanced at juliette before looking back at you, “you’re choosing the wrong side here.”

you both were then sent off, adam being the main guard for juliette and another guard for you. (kishimoto you think his name tag said.)

you and juliette were demanded at dinner, and each brought a dress picked out by warner himself. you couldn’t even deny the dress wasn’t gorgeous, it was white, mermaid style, decorated and embroidered with pearls, subtle floral designs going all around it, some type of pendants in the middle with pearl strings draped - it was in simple, ethereal.

now, you knew you shouldn’t accept anything warner offers you - but the little girl in you who dreamed of a dress like this took over. you told yourself you were taking advantage of what was given, it wasn’t going to persuade you.

when it was time for dinner, you and juliette were again side by side, walking toward the dining room. the moment you saw each other, you both gasped and asked “what are you wearing?” you were shocked she was still in her attire from the asylum, and she was shocked you were wearing the dress given.

after you both explained your reasoning, you laughed at how ridiculous you both looked in a side-by-side comparison. you quickly caught her on to the fact you couldn’t read warner mind like adam, she was shocked and urged you to not let him know for your own safety. then you gave each other a comforting look to help brace yourselves for whatever was to come.

warner was displeased at juliette’s outfit, but seemed proud to see you were wearing what he requested. he scanned you up and down, making you shift from foot to foot nervously under his gaze. it didn’t help you notice how he cleaned up as well - crisp white dress shirt, black dress pants with a black belt and a gold buckle, fancy black shoes, and a black tuxedo coat. you also took note of the rings on his hands, but especially a green one on his pinkie, which you think you saw him wear earlier too.

you and juliette sat at dinner, juliette directly across from adam warner next to you. him next to you did not help your nervousness, it increased it tenfold.

the food in front of you looked so delicious you could feel the saliva forming in your mouth. all you wanted to do was dig in, but hearing juliettes thoughts, you knew she was feeling the same but going to protest it regardless. as much as you love food, you loved your sister more, so you weren’t going to feast no matter how much it pained you. and you knew juliette deeply appreciated it.

when warner noticed this, he raised a brow, “are you not going to eat?” you nodded no and juliette responded, saying you both weren’t hungry, which was a lie of course and warner knew this.

juliette was better at pretending than you. you couldn’t help but look at the food longingly every few minutes. you knew it was pathetic but you haven’t eaten in days. the only thing you did give in to was water because if you were gonna starve you, you could at least prevent being dehydrated to death.

from the side of your eye you saw warner holding back a smile, as if this was hilarious to him. suddenly, he picked up your fork and picked up a bit of the (what you assumed) meat from your plate, and you for a second, you thought he was going to eat it. but instead he held it up near your mouth. “eat.”

you face felt flush with heat, you knew you were red all over your face. “what are you doing?” were the only words you could form.

“since you won’t eat willingly, i suppose i’ll have to feed you myself, amor.” his crooked smile was back and even wider. you wanted to die at that moment.

you reluctantly took a bite after he showed no sign of backing down. you were deeply embarrassed feeling the gaze of everyone on you and warner; you couldn’t even look him in the eye. you knew the smug bastard took enjoyment in feeding you.

it didn’t end after that, he did that for the entire meal, despite your many protests that you would do it yourself. even juliette followed suit in eating after a pleading look from adam. you could tell warner was pleased.

when dinner finished, warner had taken the task of walking you both back himself. he asked questions about your abilities, you both responded as vaguely as you could. he then asked you and her to showcase your gifts on him. you both profusely refuse, but he didn’t accept that. so instead, he called one of his soldiers and demanded he removes his gloves - you knew from his thoughts he was terrified but still obeyed the order.

thats when juliette ran off, you following behind before warner grabbed your arm tightly, stopping you. he started ordering his men to get her. it didn’t take long for the soldiers to surround her, trapping you. the soldier ordered from before, jenkins, stood in front of juliette once more and, despite her begging, grabs her.

he’s immediately bent down in pain, screaming in agony. juliette was in what seemed like a trance, and she was having trouble letting go.

you made the haste decision to knee warner in the crotch and run off to juliette. you swiftly wrapped your arms around her and pulled her away with all your strength - making you both fall to the ground. you believed a good percent she wouldn’t hurt you, but was still very relieved when no pain seemed to come.

when you turned to juliette she looked stunned but then passed out in your arms. you didn’t realize your were crying when you shook juliette’s body and repeated her name. or even when you shouted for help for the sake of both your sister and the poor guard nearly dead on the ground.

warner (after recovering from your knee) pulled you away, trying to calm you by rubbing a hand on your back, but it only made you more furious.

you pushed him harshly back, though he barely reacted, and in a second, slapped him across the face. you angrily spewed out how he could do that to both your sister and the guard and called him nefarious names.

when you came down from your fit, you realized what you had just done and gasped, putting a hand over your mouth. while you hated warner at that moment, you knew he could kill you and juliette without a second thought. no one moved for a moment, you thought time was still. warner was looking so dangerously at you, you were starting to think you could die from it.

without looking away, he told kent to tend to juliette, and that the rest of the men to clean up the mess and deal with jenkins. it was eventually just you and him in the hall. you suddenly found the ground very interesting. you were honestly scared.

he grabbed your chin, making you look at him directly, “you were upset and acting rash, so i’ll let you off this once. but the next time you try something like that, it won’t be so easily forgiven, amor.”

you said nothing but gave a slight nod in response. he then walked you to your room, and bid you a good night.

he turned around before leaving, “don’t worry much about juliette, she’ll be alright. oh, and don’t think i’ve forgotten about your gift, i expect a demonstration very soon.” he had another stupid smirk on his face before closing your room door. oh god, you were in trouble.

he made an appearance in your room the next day, commanding asking you to join him on a walk. you knew it wasn’t an actual question, so you got ready to go.

you went outside, still on base grounds, and for a moment, you were shocked - you couldn’t think of how long it had been since you were outside.

“what, never seen a tree before?”

“i’d forgotten what they looked like.”

you could’ve sworn you almost saw pity in his eyes, but it was quickly gone and replaced with his usual neutral face. he didn’t respond and grabbed your arm to guide you on the walk.

he never let you out of his grip, much to your disdain. he went on to say juliette was going to be fine, along with jenkins, the guard.

throughout the walk anytime a soldier passed by, he asked you to tell him what they were thinking. you could’ve lied, but then again, you were honestly bad at lying. so you complied. a lot of it consisted of random thoughts like hunger, complaining about their job, some light gossip, and even a few uncomfortable ones about you. warner looked irritated when you told him the last one, but overall amazed at your gift.

he must’ve thought you have somewhat control over hearing thoughts or not because he then gave you permission to read his thoughts. you didn’t want him to know you couldn’t, so you asked him to see juliette and remove the cameras in both of your rooms before you would do so.

he thought about it for a moment, especially regarding the camera issue, but eventually relented and agreed. he took you straight to her room, walking side with you too.

as soon as you saw her, you gave her a huge hug and asked how she was feeling. she wasn’t used to being to someone close yet, so she tried to back away at first, but then returned the hug.

ignoring warner still standing at the door, you both tried to think of an explanation for being immune to her touch, but couldn’t come up with anything. but you both were mutually glad you could be physically close again without a barrier.

warner interrupted your touching moment with his questions to juliette about the night before, to which she was angry he brought up again. you knew she still thought she killed jenkins, so you cut in to let her know he was fine (mostly). they both went back and forth for a bit before you had to say your goodbyes to juliettes, dragged away by warner to your own room.

after that, he did his other part of the agreement and got your guard, kenji, to do it. while the two of you didn’t interact much, you knew he was better than the other guards assigned to you. he also often had thoughts that made you silently laugh when he wasn’t looking.

you also saw warner quite frequently, more than you thought you would it was becoming annoying to you. he would pop up in your room almost every day - when you were in bed, walking in the room, getting out of the bathroom, etc. there was even a time you had just gotten out of the shower with a towel around you and, low and behold, he was there on your bed, with his arms behind his head looking in your direction.

you shrieked and ran back into the bathroom, yelling at him to get out. he laughed in response, telling you he didn’t mind the view, but let you know he’ll wait outside your room.

when you returned to your bed, you noticed he had left something there, clothes. he even chose the undergarments. he had the audacity to pick out your outfit after coming unannounced. but... you did end up wearing it because, hey, the guy knows how to style.

after noticing you wore what he put out, he made it his mission to pick an outfit for you every day, even if he wasn’t physically there, he would send a guard with the clothes.

it was annoying how good his fashion sense was because you deeply wanted to protest this and wear your own choice, but the clothes were just so pretty it was hard. you never had worn such expensive clothes before it felt nice to be able to now, even though you were basically a prisoner here. and you didn’t need to hear his thoughts to know it made warner even cockier than normal when you wore the clothes.

whenever warner visited you it was barely ever for anything important, mostly stupid questions about yourself as if he didn’t know much of your life story. but when you tried to turn the tables and ask him personal things, he would answer vague or change the subject - even on the topic of his first name.

you saw juliette when you could, kenji was pretty lenient on it whenever you asked him to take you to her.

the two of you discussed warner, the reestablishment, and when the topic of adam came up she admitted he could touch her as well, which was a big surprise. made you a little sad you weren’t the only one special now. she explained how she found out, and also went on to say he hadn’t betrayed you both and was going to help you and her escape. knowing there was a chance for escaping made it easier for you to live there.

however, there were days that really made you hate warner - when he made you and juliette, witness him killing a man in person, showcasing you both like a brand new toy, his ruthless demeanor and unsympathetic nature towards others, etc. but the big one was the day he prepared some type of testing for you and juliette.

both of you wearing a thin tank top and shorts, way more revealing than the two you were used to. the both of you uncomfortable from the stares it got from the guards. juliette was then taken into a different room from yours. you were led to a room; there wasn’t much in it except a two-way mirror several feet in front of you. you assumed warner and others would-be behind there observing whatever they set up.

you didn’t know what was to come until dozens of guards began entering the room. as they came closer to you, you could hear all their different thoughts overlapping, getting louder, and overwhelming you.

you guessed warner wanted to see how’d you react with so many people’s thoughts in the same room - if you were able to stop it altogether, stop some of it, or if it was overwhelming and made your head hurt, like in this moment.

to an outsider, it was silent, but to you it was as if you were in a busy crowd walking by, hearing all the different types of conversations. you made another guess that warner told them prior to your ability, so to make sure they use their thought more than usual.

you tried your best to focus, but it was getting to be too much that you started crouching down and holding your head. you closed your eyes and tried to concentrate on yourself. focus, try to make it stop, you told yourself. you could barely hear your own thought from all the noise of the others. stop. stop. please. be quiet. stop it.

“stop! shut up!” you shot up and yelled out, frustrated. it was quiet; you didn’t hear anything. your relief was short-lived as your eyes went wide when saw everyone in the room was now crouched or kneeling down, holding their heads as they shouted out in pain.

you didn’t understand what happened; all you did was block them out. you did this, you realized you were hurting them.

you looked around at everyone, trying to figure out how to help, but their pleas and begs for you to stop increasingly grew. you again couldn’t think with everyone shouting at you in agony, it was much worse than when you only heard their thoughts.

you tried to talk to them, “i’m sorry! i-i don’t know what happened! i’ll fix this! please, i just need a moment to think!” you were quickly panicking and feeling like you were going to cry, burst, or both. a fire feeling was bubbling up inside of you.

you couldn’t control it, your body took over, and you closed your eyes and let out a loud yell - falling down onto your knees.

instantly, everyone and everything in the room was pushed by an invisible force serval feet back. the mirror separating you from the observers was also broken into hundreds of pieces.

you gasped, both hand covering your mouth as you saw the damage done. did you really do all of this? you didn’t understand how it was possible. you backed against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor and pulling up your knees to hug them.

during your breakdown, warner must’ve come out of the other room because he had come slowly walking toward you. you didn’t want to be near anyone at that moment, much less the man responsible for this experiment. he didn’t get too close before you put a hand out to tell him to stop, but instead, it accidentally sent him flying a foot or two back, resulting in him stumbling on his back to the floor.

you again gasp, horrified. you hadn’t even meant to do that. you felt like an out-of-control monster. unlocking a new ability should’ve been fun, but this was too traumatizing for you.

you buried your head into your knees and started sobbing, begging for this to all be a dream and that you didn’t actually just hurt a ton of people with your powers. you felt like the star of the carrie movie.

during all your crying, warner had gotten up again and kneeled beside you. you would’ve been shocked he wanted to be near you again if you weren’t so disoriented. he pulled you close to him, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you. you were too physically and mentally exhausted to protest his comfort.

it was all a blur when you were taken back to your room and tucked into bed by warner. you had no energy to change, shower, or even try to check on juliette. you blacked out before you knew it.

juliette sought you out the next day; she also looked distressed. before she could even talk, you knew from mental images what had gone down. you held her close and cursed warner up and down for doing that to her. you were also astounded at her newfound ability. she asked about you, and you confided in her what had happened with your testing. similar to you she was bewildered to learn what else you could do.

she brought up the topic of escaping again, and you were happy to jump on that topic. adam then walked into the room; you both greeted each other with a hug - you hadn’t realized how long it had been since you saw or even interacted with each other. you three then divulged into possible ways to leave; the quicker the better. but you were interrupted when an alarm went off in the whole building, commanding all soldiers to gather. juliette urged adam to go to avoid suspicion.

he hesitated, and in that moment, warner barged into your room. he gave juliette and adam questioning glances, “soldier, what are you two doing here, there an alarm.”

adam was quick with an excuse. “we were already here before the alarm went off. i wasn’t sure what to do with them as juliette was under my watch, which also extends to her sister.”

if warner thought he was lying, he didn’t show it. “alright, as you can see, i’ll handle it from here. please escort juliette back to her room before you go.”

adam nodded and lead juliette out the door, not before she could shoot a worried glance to you.

now it was just you and warner. he didn’t say anything for a moment, then he asked what you and juliette were discussing. you were honest but kept it short and responded by saying you were talking about the testing the day before. he went silent again.”

“do you write?”

you were thrown off, huh? “not particularly no.”

“hm. weird because i wandered across this in juliettes room.”

he had brown worn out notebook with fade florals on it. you internally gasped when you noticed it was your old journal.

for context, when you were around 6, you were given a journal to practice writing but ended up keeping it for personal use. you used it over the years - up until you were taken away. juliette must’ve saved it for you because it had left your mind during those 3 years of isolation. you couldn’t barely even remember what you put in it.

“uhm, thats not mine.” you mentally face palmed.

“no? it says your name on the cover of it.”

curse your six year old self.

he came closer, “it’s honestly cute when you try to lie, amor.”

you prayed your cheeks didn’t have hints of pink.

“i’m gonna need that journal back.”

“hm, alright, but i’ll need a favor first.”

“what favor?”

“read my mind.”

you were taken aback, no one had been so desperate to have their mind read as much as warner. in fact you can’t name a single person whose ever asked you. you needed an excuse and quick.

“no, i rather not.” you tried to keep your face neutral.

“why? are you that repulsed to see inside my head, or is there another reason? my bet is on the latter.” oh no.

you were saved from answering when a gun was pointed at warner, and at the one pointing it was your sister. “get away from her.”

you were so proud of juliette in that moment, but then a gun was pressed to your chest.

“i’ll shoot.”

“you’d be an idiot then.”

warner didn’t need to respond because adam came in and hit him hard with the butt of his own gun. however, this caused warner to misfire on the part of your thigh.

you held back a scream; you didn’t want juliette or adam to see and worry - they were preoccupied with warner, handcuffing him to the wall. luckily, you were wearing black pants that day, so the blood wasn’t visible if you weren’t paying close attention.

adam grabbed duffel bags and put them near the window, and then you realized you were going to have to jump, and now you werent sure if you could.

“we need to leave now.”

“you can’t seriously believe you can trust kent, he’s using the both of you.”

you scoffed. “as if you’re any better.”

“i only want you to reach your potential amor.”

juliette cut in with her gun pointed, “shut up and call off your soldiers.”

he let out a humorless laugh, “over my dead body.”

after realizing he will provide no help, you all gathered near the window.

“you’re making a mistake, both of you! don’t tell me you’ve fallen for kent’s romantic notions like your sister.”

“no, but i trust him a whole lot letter than you.”

“we have a connection and you know it.”

“no-” “i can be patient, and you’ll learn to love me-”

“stop!” “no one understands you like me!”

adam shut him up by hitting him again, making warner stagger back.

he returned to the window, “we’ll have to climb then jump off. i’ll go first and catch each of you.”

“you can’t touch her.”

no one answered warner. “wait, amor, can he touch her?”

you ignored him despite his constant repeat of the question.

adam went out the window, and then signaled for you and juliette to go down.

you looked down at your leg; not too severe, but it was painful, and needed attention very soon. warner was also on the verge of breaking free of the handcuff, so it wouldn’t be long before he chased after you all. you decided in that moment you couldn’t hold them back if they wanted to escape.

juliette was climbing down, gesturing for you to follow suit, but you stood still.

“juliette, i’m not going.”

“what? why? don’t tell me warner go to your head.”

“of course not, it’s just...juliette i’m injured.”

she climbed up a bit enough to see your leg, and she gasped. she started asking why you didn’t say anything, but you briskly interrupted that you’ll hold her and adam back, it was best if you didn’t go. no matter how much you wanted to leave this wretched place.

she of course, protested, saying she won’t leave you behind. behind you, you could sense warner breaking free and coming toward you both.you worried you’d have to do plan b.

“i love you, don’t hate me for this.”

“for what-” “adam get ready to catch her!”

warner was next to you in a second, reaching for juliette, but you quickly pushed the rest of the rope in the window out - leaving juliette to fall straight down into adam.

you tackled warner to the ground to prevent him from reaching out to stop the rope. but you noticed the brush of their hands before her fall. he could touch her too.

you didn’t have time to contemplate because the pain in your leg made itself known again, oozing more blood. you noticed some blood had seemed onto warner when you tackled him. crap you forgot too much blood loss = death was a thing for a moment.

you rolled off our warner and ripped off a piece of your dress to try and wrapped it around the wound.

warner recovered and noticed you were hurt, he looked worried and quickly removed his coat to use as a makeshift tourney kit. “what happened?”

“your misfire.”

he frowned, “never meant to actually shoot you amor.”

soldiers were piled in the room in an instant, warner demanded adam and juliette be brought back, and alive.

he carried you to the infirmary and sat next to you as the medics handled your injury.

when the medics left the room, you could tell he was going to start questioning you.

“you’ve been a very bad girl you know, helping your sister and kent escape.”

“is this the part where you torture me for information? i don’t know where they went.”

“oh, i know. but maybe some spanking ought to straight you out.”

you turned to him alarmed, “what? you’re not serious, right.”

he grabbed your chin, “hm, i don’t know, do you promise to be a good girl?”

your face flamed red, “s-shut up!”

he laughed at you, amused, “you’re too cute.”

he eventually went off, assuming to check on how the hunt for juliette and adam was going. you prayed they made it our alright.

your leg was feeling much better, you could now walk in it with a small limp. might’ve just been the painkiller, but regardless it was enough you were released to go off to your room that night.

warner escorted you back, not trusting his soldiers, and preventing a second escape attempt. as you both walked the halls you heard whispers about kishimoto being under investigation, in other words being tortured in a cell right now.

you immediately asked warner about it and he shrugged saying he was friends with adam and was your guard, so he wanted to ensure he had no information concerning the escape. you tried to defend him, saying he wasn’t involved, but warner didn’t yield and that he would be the judge of that.

he helped you into bed, making sure you were comfortable. then he stood by the door, getting ready to leave.

“don’t think your off the hook just yet, i’ll question you tomorrow, especially involving your sister and me being able to touch her.”

oh shit, he noticed. of course he did, he’s a perceptive bastard.

“and, it’s aaron.”

you threw a confused look. “my name, it’s aaron.” and with that he walked out, locking your door securely.

huh. aaron warner. interesting.

when you awoke the next day you were again with aaron warner by your side. he waited for you to get dressed then took you with him wherever he went.

you could sense something was wrong but didn’t want to ask. from a few whispers and thoughts, you were able to find out what happened- kenji kishimoto escaped. you were silently cheering, glad he was no longer being tortured. he was your favorite guard after all. you hoped somehow he was with adam and juliette and they were all safe.

you were proven drastically wrong when hours later, you found out they had been spotted and taken by the soldiers back to the base.

warner was very pleased with the news, he ordered adam to be sent to the dungeons while juliette was to be heavily restrained.

you asked warner to speak to them, but mainly juliette. he obviously declined - he didn’t need to you and them trying to escape again. you didn’t let up and continued asking and begging, saying he could be there to supervise, you just wanted to make sure they were okay.

“please aaron.”

he seemed taken aback by the title and stayed stunned for a moment. he then dragged you away, and you assumed he’d be taking you to juliette. however, instead, you were led to a room, his room, you realized.

his back was turned to you, “i was surprised when i found out juliette’s touch didn’t affect me, probably the same way you were when you discovered the same. i couldn’t conjure an explanation as to why, and still can’t. but then i started thinking about you and your ability.” he turned around to face you, slowly creeping closer. “i thought about all those times i asked you to read me, but you refuse or avoided it. at first, i thought you were doing to in protest, or even because you had no interest in doing so.” you gulped. “ then this new revelation came and it occurred to me, maybe juliette’s not the only one i’m immune to.”

he stood directly in front of you, and you were so nervous you wanted to throw up. “you can’t read my mind or thought, can you amor?”

you went wide-eyed, he knew. you didn’t say anything, still paralyzed.

he caressed your cheek, “that scares you, not knowing what i’m thinking. must make you even a bit mad.” you couldn’t breathe. he was so close, you felt his breath, and the gun in his jacket pocket.

“don’t let that stop you from loving me. my every thought is yours, if you want it, and i so desperately want you to want it.”

he roughly leaned in and pressed your lips together, you couldn’t think for a moment too shocked, but then you remember the gun.

you kissed back in an attempt to get closer to the jacket. you acted as if you were feeling on his chest, and slowly trying to get your hands on the weapon.

he murmured, “we’ll be so good together,” before diving in for another deep kiss. you tried to keep up with his rushed lips to keep him distracted.

aaron was so absorbed into the kiss he didn’t notice the gun pressed against the side of his chest.

you pulled back, his lips following after your before you lightly pushed him away. looking at him directly in the eyes, “i’m sorry it had to come to this.” pow.

his face was full of confusion, horror, pain, and betrayal before he crumpled on the ground.

you wasted no time in running off to find juliette before someone found warner. it didn’t take long after reading a few thoughts and taking some guesses of your own.

you entered to see her on a hospital-like bed with restraints on her arms to legs to keep her immobilized. you were quick to free her and get her back on her feet. once she regained her full consciousness, you both went off to find adam.

you snuck up on a few soldiers and knocked them out with your gun, juliette mainly knocking them out with her strength, and found adam pretty easily. he was in chains hanging by his arms, with his head down. he looked to be heavily injured as well.

you took care of breaking him free while juliette woke him up. he had trouble standing, so you both carried him by his arms and hurried toward the exit. you three quickly came up with a solution to get out; the guards hadn’t noticed warner or the fact the prisoners escaped yet.

you all ran outside, helping juliette carry adam. he was heavy, but you carried on, not knowing when guards would start chasing you three.

you and him were left for a moment while juliette went off and before you knew it you were inside a car “woah, where’d you get this!”

juliette was in the driver seat preparing to leave and turned to you, “long story short, it’s stolen”

“cool. wait you know how to drive?”

“no.”

with adam’s guidance, soon enough, you all were off to your not-sure-where. you were in the back seat while adam and her were in front. juliette had taken the liberty of catching you up on events during the escape, mainly about kenji and james.

adam and juliette discussed where they could be and then found them.

you greeted kenji and introduced yourself to james, he was a very sweet boy and seemed a bit excited by this whole situation. having known a bit about you, he asked you to tell him what number he was thinking, to which you couldn’t help but do it. he beamed excitedly.

juliette was the one to bring up warner, “how’d you escape him, i’m sure you were under heavy surveillance after we left.’

“oh..i uhm... shot him.” after he kissed me.

everyone turned to you, shocked at the revelation, juliette was proud of you for defending yourself, and the rest of them were just struck you even had the chance to do it.

kenji then switched with juliette, leading the drive to this supposed location of people who could help.

you fell asleep, and when you awoke, there was a large facility like building in the middle of nowhere.

you got out of the car, helping carry adam again, and rushed into the building. inside there were numerous of people, more than you ever expected. adam got taken away by, what you assumed were, medics. but juliette had many questions. you were too stunned looking around to form anything. at some point a man had introduced himself to us as castle; he seemed like the head of this place.

you snapped back when you saw juliette hounding kenji, getting dangerously close to him, and then accidentally touching him. it wasn’t enough to kill, but he was still quite injured a bit to be taken away by medics like adam. juliette was then sedated and that’s when your concerns were raised.

it was your turn to ask questions, but not wanting to end up like juliette, you remained calm. castle briefly explained you all were in a place called ‘omega point’ and its purpose was to build a group of gifted individuals to help them understand their gift. it went against the reestablishment was basically a rebellion against them.

overwhelmed by information, you asked to be taken to where you would sleep. castle led you to a room and informed you you’d be rooming with two other girls, along with juliette. your sister was already there, still passed out from whatever they gave her. the two twin sisters, who you found out had healing abilities, introduced themselves as sara & sonya. they seemed nice, and you could tell you’ll easily be friends.

you bid them goodnight after they reassured you adam, kenji, and juliette would all be fine.

after that first day, the days passed by quickly. you were given a suit to wear, a red leather corset-like top, black leather pants, and a long dark red leather coat, accompanied with black fingerless gloves and black boots. it made you feel like a superhero in it.

you practiced with castle to help learn to block out unwanted thoughts, which a major relief to learn. he was also helpful in managing your new telekinetic ability since he had the same. another ability you were slowly practicing was mental manipulation, you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to mind control someone, so it wasn’t focused on much, but still learned from time to time.

you admit, you had a better time adjusting than juliette; she was keeping to herself, having lunch with only you, adam, and occasionally kenji. you couldn’t blame her; the asylum doesn’t exactly help in forming relationships. her relationship with adam was a huge step as it is, and you were proud of her for it.

eventually, you were stable enough to go on outdoor missions. the first time you went was an unforgettable experience. you saw what society was like after all these years, it was horrible the conditions people were living in under the reestablishment.

that day you also saw aaron for the first time in a few weeks. you were glad he was alive because it really hadn’t been your goal to kill him. he was wearing a cast on his left arm, near where you shot him. you wondered if he told anyone what happened or changed the story.

he also saw him human for the first time. when no one was looking, he fed and injured dog, even carrying him for a bit. you found the sight cute. it almost felt like a dream.

it almost got you caught by him; you swore you made .1 second eye contact before you were turned invisible and taken away by kenji. you didn’t know what could’ve happened if he recognized you.

after that, you frequently joined them on the outside missions, aaron was there for almost all of them, which left you wondering why. you even encouraged juliette a few times, and she even ended up following along on the most recent one making friends with winston and brendan.

after the task you got back to your room, juliette made a stop to adam, and it was empty. you took off the clothes given to you to blend in, removing your tattered jacket and replacing it with your red one.

you were folding the coat to put away for next time when something fell out of the pocket, a paper.

you didn’t remember putting anything in, so you figured it was there when it was given to you weeks ago. but then again, you should’ve noticed by now if it was.

curious, you unfolded the piece of paper and looked at it contents.

you gasped out loud, dropping the paper on your bed in the process.

see you soon, amor. -your injured dearest, A.W.

oh, you were fucked.

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voxmortuus · 1 year

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►PAIRING: Tangerine x Fem!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Bullet Train ►WORDS: 1.3k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: Tangerine is constantly traveling for his work. Never really in one place for too long. Never gets attached, the only person he's ever truly loved was his brother. But work brought him back to that place. That place you met. That place you had such a beautiful night together, that one time he let down his walls, and that one night he opened up, and that one night of nothing but raw passion. Standing there, that spot on the beach, the palm trees, and the sounds of the waves crashing sends Tangerine into a trance, and it all comes rushing back to him. That's the night that crosses his mind. It's been a year, and it's as fresh in his mind as the night it happened. ►SONG INSPIRATION: Heat Waves - Glass Animals ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Unguarded "soft" Tangerine | Public Intoxication Tipsy feeling not drunk | Heavy Petting & Making-out | Public Nudity | Sex on the beach | Vaginal Unprotected Penetration | Hints of Internal Ejaculation | Cuddling | Multiple times implied | Tangerine Waking you up to go back to work | Cliff Hanger | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ►NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist

The hot sand mixed with sunscreen and maybe even a hint of coconut, a sweet scent, an enveloping scent, a warm scent that takes over that memory part of the brain, that memory part that taps into the pleasure senses. The gurgling waves were metronomic. The gushing waves were comforting. The humming of the wave song beguiled him. The sea was kindling its own symphony. It was as if it was putting him in a trance. Standing there, the salty breeze kissed his face, his bright gray eyes closed for a moment and that's when it settled in. That memory from that one night a year to this very day.

"Careful! You're going to spill the bottle!" you chuckled watching him as he took a sip. "You're draggin' me Darlin'! Course I'm going to spill the bottle." he chuckled as you both stumbled in the sand. "I don't want you to leave in the morning." you told him. Taking the bottle you place it in the sand after taking a swig from it and you place your arms around him and hold him close. Looking up you gaze into his eyes. "Can't you just... miss... your flight?" you asked him with a small pout on your lips. "Darlin' I wish I could. But I don't think they'd appreciate that very much. They'll come looking for me and then what are we going to do?" He looked over your face and pushed the hair from your face. Leaning in he kissed you sweetly, lovingly, yearning for that connection.

He never got close with people, but there was something about you that just really made him want to be close. Maybe it was your curves, maybe it was the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself. It could have been anything, but it was enough for this workaholic to stop and take notice of you, and to want to spend time with you. Especially like this.

Eventually, both of you find your way to the sitting in the sand, you're straddling his lap, your hands on his shoulders, and they move up to play at his hairline. You lean in and nuzzled into him. You nipped at his lips. Holding him close you run your nose along his jaw taking in his scent. Feeling his hands on your waist, moving up under your shirt.

Your breathing picked up a bit, and your skin was sensitive from the consumption of liquor. But you were of sound mind, you knew exactly what he was doing, what you were doing. Leaning in you kiss him deeply, and your tongue finds its way to dance with his, doing a sensual tango. You feel him getting excited under you, feeling the twitch of excitement. Letting out a jagged breath, you grind your hips against him. His hands find their way to your ass and gripped you and pull you closer to him.

He watches you for a brief moment, and there were no words spoken. He knew what you wanted, and boy did he want it too. He wet his lips slowly running his tongue over his lower lip and he moves his hands to strip the shirt from your figure, removing the bathing suit top with it. He tossed it to the side. Returning the loss of shirt with him as well, he turns both of you over, and the sand, warm from the heat of the sun from earlier that day caresses the curves of your back as you fall upon it.

Moving to stay between your legs, he gets on his knees and looks down at you. He wanted to admire you, he wanted to just look at you. He reaches forward and unties the cover-up skirt and your bikini bottoms opening them up to see all of you. The way the moonlight hits your body, he smiles, taking every curve in, taking each and every ounce of you in. Logging it in his memory bank.

Reaching forward you run your hand over his stomach, playing at his own curves of how his body worked against your fingers you smile into a giggle, and you bite your lip and you sit up, and reach forward and lower his swim trunks and look over him. He was beautiful, you thought of him the same way he thought of you.

Grabbing at his hips you bring him back to you, wanting to feel his weight against you, wanting to feel that warmth against you. You wanted to feel him. When he came to hover over you, he took your hands and placed them on his sides, as he leaned in and planted his lips against yours, kissing you deeply, yearning still. His member pressing against your swollen lower wanting eager lips.

The dewy wetness coated the underside of his hard member as he moved in such a way the tip of his member slipped into your eager hole. Licking his lips, he leaned in and kissed you deeply. As your hands gripped his sides, his forehead rested against yours and he let out a slow groan as you let out a heavy moan. How he felt, it was like you felt each and every vein, each and every groove of his cock against your lips, against your velvet, wet, warm, wanting walls.

As he thrusts you whimper and moan, and as he grunts and groans, the sounds of your bodies colliding was hidden and masked by the crashes of the waves on the shore.

His hands move to yours and he moves them above your head, his motions were loving, passionate, they were personal. This felt more personal than he could fathom. He was lost in this moment with you, his eyes locking with yours, your moans matched his. It was how you both moved.

Moving you both work together to find yourself on top of him. At first, you're laying against him, your hips moving against his member. Your breasts pressed against him, his hands dragging down your sides and after picking up some pace you move to your hands pressed into his chest as you begin to bounce on him, your head falling back as you press him into you, feeling him hit that back wall, that perfect spot found.

Rocking your hips your breasts bouncing, his hands cupping them, both of you let your moans be carried off by the wind. Carried out to sea finding the sirens of the deep as you both let out such a finishing moan you both tremble. The way that finish filled you was one you will never forget. That finish seemed to just come on so strong, and it was the way you moved together. The way your moans played off the waves it was an intoxicating tune of an echo that seemed to play on those waves for many clicks.

You move to lie next to him, your fingers play against his chest, no words exchanged, there were no need for words to be exchanged. But it was like you both couldn't keep your hands off each other. You didn't want to, he didn't want to. It was nothing but raw passion. Genuine and true. You couldn't keep your distance, feeling how he filled you again, and again.

Ring... Ring... He groans and checks his phone, damn near dead, he looks down at you, the sun just now coming up, he moves some hair behind your ear and leans in and kisses your cheek. He didn't want to wake you but he didn't want just leave you.

"Darlin, wake up, I've gotta go..." he whispers against your ear. "Mmm, please no..." you mutter. "I'm sorry... I wish I could stay. I'm sure we'll see each other soon." He says softly.

Shaking his head he came back from the memory and felt this tightness in his chest. Licking his lips he shoved his hands in his pants pocket and looked down at his feet a moment before turning and walking back to the car. He looks back over his shoulder to see what he thought was you, and an almost one-year-old child.... He tilted his head, but it couldn't be. Could it?

"Look at those waves Clementine."

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starstruckkittensweets · 6 months

Text

chapter one

Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Dabi x Reader Words: 6.2k

A/N: The first chapter of my lil Dabi passion project. Partially inspired by "Haunting Adeline" (awesome book but PLEASE heed the warnings in it). The full list of warnings is included in the main masterlist, but individual ones will be posted at the beginning of each chapter. Also this is my first time writing from both Reader and Dabi's perspective, so I hope it's not too bad. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only (minors DNI), explicit language, mentions of arson, mentions of violence, stalking, breaking and entering, working in retail (I'm sorry), Reader lives in a cute lil house in the middle of the woods, Reader also has 3 plushies (that all have names, because I'm a dork)

"Kerosene and Butterflies" Masterlist

It’s raining again, for the fourth day in a row. Barely any light to work with at the little workspace you’ve made for yourself at the kitchen table. So instead you rest your hands on your arms, watching the rain patter against the window panes. Pen and paper pushed away and left forgotten on the surface.

Rain always makes you feel nice. Not happy or sad, just nice. Gives you something to look at, the sound mindless enough to put you at ease. Soft and warm, more often than not lulling you to sleep with its voice. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to make sense in your mind.

Your phone lights up on the table with a text. It’s your mother again, sending her weekly check-in text. Even though you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself and living on your own. But it’s more for her than you; you think it helps her cope with one of her kids living abroad, so far out of her reach.

Well, that’s what enticed you about this house in the first place, but you’ll never tell her that.

With a yawn you grab your phone and send a quick reply. Yes you’re okay, you’re getting enough sleep, you miss her home cooked meals. Call her tomorrow, put her mind at ease. Buy another few days of freedom before the cycle inevitably repeats itself.

When you finish and place your phone back down, you give the paper and pen one last look. Maybe you could try one more time, see if anything comes to mind?

Your chest deflates at the thought. No, the spark is long gone. Try again a different day, get some sleep for now. You need it.

You can almost hear it laughing at you, the uncapped pen lying dangerously close to its blank skin. You’ve been hearing it for the last hour or so, wracking your brain to come up with something, anything. Words, ideas, or even bullet points you can just jot down in your chicken scratch handwriting. Just a sliver of something to get those creative juices flowing.

But your eyelids are already drooping, the rainy weather not helping you one bit. Your brain feels like it’s all dried up, giving you a never-ending headache. Telling you that you’ve already reached your peak; that nothing else you make will ever come close to how you want it to come out.

Oh well. Tomorrow’s another day, right?

But you know damn well you’ll be back to square one tomorrow night, when you get home from work. Staring at that blank page with your head in your hands, praying for the words to come. For the inspiration to strike—to make you feel anything other than this.

At least the paper’s still good, maybe you can use it for a shopping list later in the week. That way it’ll get some good use out of it.

Your job isn’t exactly the flashiest; definitely not what you envisioned yourself doing at twenty-four years old. Working at a dead-end department store in the shady part of town, along with four or five other people—and none of them are close to you in age. But it keeps the bills paid and food in your fridge, so you guess it’s not as bad as it could be. You could do without the annoying entitled customers, though.

At least your shift stretches into the latter half of the day, meaning you only have to deal with them for about four hours, five tops if you end up taking your lunch break late. Then the store closes, the customers are ushered out, and you spend the rest of your time stocking the shelves and getting ready for the next busy day.

Most nights the store’s already empty, with only a handful of customers roaming the aisles. That gives you some extra time to start stocking; you prefer putting stuff back on the shelves rather than ringing on register anyways. Register gets boring and repetitive fast, but working on the floor always gives you something new to do.

“Excuse me, where can I find the laundry detergent?”

“Down the next aisle and to your left, all the way down at number twenty-four.”

“Where’s the soup and all the instant meals?”

“Right over here actually, on the middle shelf.”

“You have any beer?”

“Last aisle down, all the way to the end. You’ll see the freezer straight ahead.”

Every interaction gives you a rush of excitement, as sad as it sounds. In all honesty, your job isn’t the complete worst. Most customers are fine and even pleasant to deal with, and it always makes you feel good when you’re able to help them find something on their lists. Besides, it tests your knowledge of the store, almost like a matching game; after three years of working in the same place, you pretty much know it like the back of your hand.

Tonight seems like one of those lazy nights, with only a couple customers roaming through the aisles, the lone cashier at the registers looking like he’s about to fall asleep. You’re sorting through the grocery bin at the front (either what customers decided they didn’t want, or items found randomly throughout the store). There’s quite a bit today, must’ve been pretty busy earlier in the day.

It doesn’t take long to put the shelf-ready stuff into a cart and trek down to the grocery section. Most of it is candy anyways, which is in the first couple aisles. One item after another, until you start to see the bottom of the cart.

You step back from the shelf, a handful of candy bars clenched between your fingers, when your back suddenly collides into something—or someone, judging by the grunt they let out.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean that, I should really watch where I’m going, I’m really sorry about that—”

The words die right there on your tongue as you glance up at the person. You can barely see his face behind the dark mask over his mouth and his hood pulled over his hair. But something catches your eye—something dark and heavy beneath his eyes.

He’s got some serious bags under his eyes, poor guy must be working himself to death. Must be a college student, you know how it feels.

Wait a minute…bags?

Your head begins to buzz. You don’t think you’ve ever seen bags bad enough to leave the skin so…wrinkled. Almost like they’re—

But he’s already walking away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Head hanging low and shoulders tense as he disappears down the next aisle.

It’s not until another customer asks you where the hand soap is, that you remember to blink—and breathe. It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to give them the right aisle across the store. But then you’re staring off into space once more, thinking about the strange person in the black hoodie and mask.

Dark patches under his eyes… Could it really be…?

No way, stop thinking like that. You know where your mind is going, don’t you dare entertain the thought.

You shake your head. You’re being ridiculous. It’s getting late, anyway. You didn’t get that much sleep last night to begin with, it’s early to bed when you get home later tonight.

You file the last of the candy in its proper home on the shelf before heading down the main path towards the registers. Pet food, paper goods, detergent, body wash… A couple aisles here and there for every department. You should check and see if there’s any chemicals up front that need to go back on the shelf. Probably the easiest department for you to handle, other than food and appliances—

Your jaw drops when you turn the corner and come face-to-face with the dark stranger from earlier. Staring down at you with those dark eyes—no, the patches are dark, his eyes are actually quite bright, and oh my fucking God they’re blue—

There’s something sticking out of his pocket—the red and white label of a box of Band-Aids. And that’s not the only thing in there, judging by the awkward bulges and pointy corners. Maybe some extra medicine or painkillers.

You glance back up at him. Neither of you make any move to leave.

“…I won’t tell if you won’t.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. All you can think about is how this little corner of the store lacks any functioning security cameras, and how it’s probably only a few dollars, it won’t necessarily put the store out of business if he gets away with it. Just this one time. No one has to know, except the two of you.

He’s glaring now, probably curling his lip at you from behind the mask. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, your heart throbbing furiously against your ribcage.

“Can…I get you anything else?”

“Fuck off.”

He shoves his way past you, shoulder nearly knocking you on your ass. Your throat runs dry as his words echo in your ears, his voice sending chills down your spine.

You know him, but from where? You know his voice, his looks—but why can’t you remember him?

You glance over your shoulder but he’s already gone, most likely heading towards the exit. Not like you’re gonna stop him.

Still, you can’t get your little encounter out of your mind, even as you try to busy yourself with your work. Not even ten minutes pass by before you grab another box of bandages and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, mumbling to your coworker, “Store use, I’ll claim it out when I get back,” all the while feigning injury as you cradle your wrist against your chest (where a small pack of cotton balls is pressed between your fingers).

The back of the store leads out to the dumpsters in the back alley. A prime spot for smoke breaks, despite smelling like absolute crap. Chalk marks and spray paint decorating the walls, trash bags spilling out of the dumpsters in the corner. You clutch the supplies to your chest, head swinging wildly in search of the stranger.

But there’s no one out there. He’s gone for good this time—and for some reason, you can’t explain the sudden ache in your chest.

You don’t know what makes you leave the bandages and alcohol in the corner of the alley, hidden by the shadow of the dumpsters. Or why there’s a pang in the pit of your stomach, as you remember how bright his blue eyes looked.

Here’s a tip for any aspiring writers out there: get comfortable with constantly going on the internet. Whether it’s looking for an obscure random fact about Victorian houses in the 1800s or learning just how long it takes to recover from a bullet wound in the shoulder, search engines like Google will become your best friend. It won’t always provide the most accurate information, but it’s a start to get the ball rolling.

But this particular search doesn’t stem from a story in your drafts; all you can see are those mysterious blue eyes from the store, and the dark wrinkled patches beneath them.

It doesn’t take long at all to find your answer: a thread of articles and blurry photos of the infamous League of Villains—the same ones that have been terrorizing the country for the past year or so. Casualties, crimes, and even past victims. Every word brings another wave of goosebumps, but you can’t tear your eyes away.

Of course. That’s where you knew him from. Makes sense now.

There’s a handful of people in the photos, each one more terrifying than the last. A young girl with a feral smile, associated with a string of murders involving severe blood loss. A man capable of decaying anything with just a brush of his fingers. And the same stranger you saw in the store, known for over thirty murders and thousands in property damage, all thanks to those dangerous blue flames.

You slam the laptop shut and suppress a shiver. What were you thinking? Acting so casual with a villain—you knew you recognized those eyes somewhere—and oh my God, were you really going to try to meet him outside at the back?

And for what? Some bandages that he’d clearly already stolen? Hell, you’d let him walk away even when you knew he was planning on stealing them!

Hopefully your boss never finds out about that.

You glance out the window of your living room, pulling the lapels of your jacket closer to your chest. The door’s locked, the windows are latched, and the curtains are closed. Nothing out there but the trees and the moon and the gentle rainfall.

Calm down. Why would he come after you? You didn’t do anything to piss him off, did you? So what makes you think he’d try to figure out where you lived? What would he have to gain from that?

Still, you triple check the lock on the door, before moving backwards towards your bedroom. Also clicking the lock into place once you’re safe inside.

A villain. You can’t believe you came across an actual villain.

Villains were a common presence even back home, and you knew before moving abroad there was a possibility you could encounter some of them. But they always kept to the shadows, staying out of the spotlight for as long as they could. Only showing up in cities far away from your own. You’ve never come face to face with one of them, never been so fucking close to one of them before—

You crawl into bed and throw the covers over your head. Trying to focus on the pitter patter of the rain against the windows.

But you can’t get those images out of your mind. No matter how hard you squeeze your eyes shut, or bury your face into the pillow, you can still see his face. Those horrid wrinkled patches beneath his eyes. The same shade of blue as the flames from his palms. The way he looked at you as though you were nothing but a smear of dirt on the bottom of his boot.

He could’ve burned you right then and there.

You don’t fall asleep easily that night.

Despite your paranoia, the next few days go by without any issue. Work, errands, go back home. Your life continues just as it did before you met that crazy villain—and knowing that, you can breathe a little easier when you rest your head on your pillow for the night.

The little pile of medicine and supplies you’d left in the back alley had disappeared the next morning. Someone else had probably picked them up, who could say no to free medical supplies? There’s a slim chance that villain came back and took them for himself.

You know it’s a long shot. And yet there’s still some part of you that clings to it, wondering if he’s still sticking around this part of town.

Come on, what’s wrong with you? Are you really that eager to put your life in danger like that?

The rational part of your brain says no. But there’s another part, a much more vocal part of your brain, that can’t stop thinking about your little encounter. And what you would’ve done if he’d been in that alley that night.

Probably cry your eyes out. Then get killed like the dumbass you are.

Still, no matter what you do or what you try to focus on instead, he keeps coming back to your mind. And you find yourself visiting those damn websites, those stupid forums night after night when you get home from work, speculating just who he might be beneath those painful scars and bright blue flames.

What kind of life did he lead before joining the League? Does he have any regrets about becoming a villain? Does he actually enjoy being on the run like this?

It’s only when you’re lying wide awake in bed at close to two in the morning, still worn out from a long day at work that the more innocent questions start to plague your mind:

What’s his favorite color? Is it blue, or does he actually hate it? When is his birthday? Does he have any friends, either before he became a villain, or anyone in the League? You wonder, what’s his real name?

“Why am I even thinking about this? Not like I’m ever gonna see him again…” And you should be grateful for that.

But there’s still an ache in your chest, an awkward swirl in your stomach, every time you remind yourself of that simple little fact. And you don’t really know what to make of it.

Another hour passes before you push yourself out of bed and right to your desk in the corner. Grabbing one of the little notebooks you’d bought for story notes and ideas, but haven’t really touched in the last few months. Sliding into the seat with a sigh and clicking open one of the many black pens from the drawer at your side. Flicking on the small desk lamp and squinting against the sudden brightness.

It’s not uncommon for the inspiration to hit at ungodly hours of the morning. Honestly, you do your best writing between midnight and six a.m.; the only drawback is being unable to stay awake at work the next day. But at least you have some damn good writing to show for it.

But that hasn’t happened for months now. Not since you moved and started working nights. Now you have to hit the hay almost as soon as you come home, if you want any chance of a normal sleep schedule.

The pen moves on its own. Every breath brings another word on the page. Ink starts to smudge the side of your hand.

They appear in front of you: all the questions circling around in your mind, begging to be answered. The honest, the childish, even questions you think of on the spot. Anything and everything you would ask him if you were ever given the chance.

What are you doing? You should be in bed trying to sleep. Not doing…whatever this is.

You swallow hard as a single word appears before you: Dabi.

And immediately you start to shiver, your cheeks growing warm beneath the scathing looks of the ink and pages.

You’ve always had a strange complex when it comes to writing out people’s names. They’re much easier to speak out in your mind, or even say verbally. But once you write them out, it becomes almost final. It’s different to actually see those letters right in front of you, rather than just imagining them in your mind. Guess it makes everything seem so much more real that way.

It’s stupid, so fucking stupid.

But you don’t stop, even when your hand begins to cramp. Because this is the first time in almost half a year that you’re actually letting your pen guide you. The first time you truly feel at ease, not even caring about what you’ve written, or even stopping yourself to edit it.

What’s it called, word vomit? It’s therapeutic, but incredibly hard to do sometimes.

It’s not until the sun rises a couple hours later, and you’re half-asleep at your desk. Your arms curled beneath your head, the muscles in your hand throbbing like crazy. But then you see all those words you’ve written, all that ink staining those pristine white pages…

And you can’t help but smile as you drift off to sleep.

The air is stale with the scent of smoke and ash. The city always smells like shit, but it’s usually better on the outskirts. But the burning pile of flesh at the end of the alley begs to differ, and his hands still ache as blue flames lick at his palms.

Another shitty night coming to an end, thank fuck.

Dabi’s been in this damn city for the better part of two weeks now, boss’s orders unfortunately. Scouting for any possible members, new blood they could add to their ranks. But every group is the same; they’re either loud-mouthed fucks with more muscle in their arms than their own damn heads, or they’re practically children, fresh out of school and all set on playing hero. Still thinking this is a fucking game, and that they can stand to take the League out from the inside.

He’s already had one guy try it a couple months back, but he knew better than to go through with it. Can’t say the same for the rest of the dumbasses burning in the alley, though.

Oh, well. No doubt the heroes will find them tomorrow, if they even bother showing up. Not many of them like to venture all the way out here, especially if it means real danger.

He slides a pack of cigs out from his pocket, choosing one and lighting it with the tip of his finger. He’s walked these roads too many times in the last few nights, practically knows them inside and out. And it’s not long before that silly little department store comes into view—the same one that oh-so-generously let him borrow some of their stock last week.

Didn’t even need to use his quirk to make it happen, either.

The double doors slide open, the blaring lights a stark contrast to the shadows of the streets. He barely has time to step back before someone steps out, waving their hand behind them with a smile on their face.

Oh, the same one from that night. He can’t help but smirk at the memory.

It’s a girl—and if her face and height are anything to go by, he’s starting to wonder if she’s even old enough to work at a place like this. Apparently her brain must be impressively small too, with the way she’s walking down the darkened street without a care in the world. One hand fastened on the strap of her purse and the other dangling down at her side, a dark lanyard wrapped around her wrist. She must have a shit-ton of keyrings on them, judging by how hard she swings it back and forth. As if that’s going to protect her if someone tries to jump her.

Fucking dipshit.

He rolls his eyes and takes another long drag of his cigarette. Watching the stupid kid out of the corner of his eye—and nearly dropping the cig altogether when he watches her veer off the sidewalk and head straight for the forest.

What the fuck is she doing? Does she want to get herself killed?

Maybe it’s sheer curiosity—or maybe it’s hoping something out there will pick her off so she’ll learn her lesson—whatever it is, it has his feet moving on their own. Picking up the pace to keep her within his sights, the cigarette barely hanging from his mouth.

Didn’t anyone teach her not to go walking around this late at night? For fuck’s sake it’s nearly one in the morning, does her shift really last that long? What compelled her to take a walk in the goddamn forest of all places? No way she lives all the way out here, she’s probably got a place somewhere in the city. Probably just looking for a cheap thrill so late at night.

Stop it. She’s not your problem to worry about, so quit it already. Just sit back and watch the show.

He follows her down the old trodden path, waiting for her to hit a stray root or trip over a rock and fall flat on her face. But nothing happens, other than a few scuffs of dirt on her ratty old sneakers. Almost like she knows these woods—like the back of her hand.

It’s a struggle to keep his footsteps soft. His boots do nothing to quell the sound of leaves crunching, dirt spraying across the path. Luckily she doesn’t hear, either that or she just doesn’t care.

Where the hell is she heading at this hour?

His answer appears in the form of a house. A pretty shitty-looking one, if he’s being completely honest. Shabby roof, flimsy door, moss creeping over each and every corner. Almost like no one’s bothered to visit the place in the last decade or so—at least.

The girl steps right up to the door, swinging that stupid lanyard at her side. Shuffling around until she finds the right key, before disappearing into the house altogether. A light flickers on in the window, her shadow visible behind the aging curtains.

Fuck him, she does live here.

In the middle of nowhere, secluded from the rest of the world. She’s stupid, isolating herself from all those people in town. Help’s not gonna come if you’re stuck in some random forest, she’s probably better off in the heart of the city. Then again, it must be nice for her. Being able to wake up in the morning without the blaring of sirens in your ears. Tucked away where no one can find you, safe and sound in the comfort of your own quiet home.

He almost envies her. Almost.

The longer he stares at the little mossy house, watching her shadow flit back and forth behind the curtain, the more he starts to wonder what she has inside. Must be stocked on food and medicine; that shit’s hard to come by these days. Might be worth a peek once she’s gone. She’ll probably leave tomorrow night for her shift, right? He’ll slip in then, see if she’s got anything worth his time. Better this random cottage than an apartment in the city, right? From what he can tell there’s not a soul in sight, save for the looming trees and starry sky.

He’s smirking now, slipping back into the shadows of the forest, right beside the old trodden path. She never even sees him.

The house is dark and empty by sundown. The path is easier to walk in the daylight, but he still waits until nightfall before scoping out the house. Just in case she getany bright ideas and decides to return home sooner than she should.

It’s a two-story house, and while the front door’s latched shut, the windows sure aren’t. It slides open with a squeak, like it hasn’t been touched in years. Looks like the kitchen—or a sorry excuse for one, if he’s being honest. A small table with only two chairs, neither of them looking like they’re from the same set. Papers and books and pens litter the surface, with the napkin holder knocked down on its side.

Not that they have a better one back at the base. Hell, they’re lucky enough if they’re able to sit down for most of their meals, if they can get their hands on any.

Which reminds him of his mission, and he’s scanning the room for any possible food. And there, to his left: a crowded counter stacked with boxes of cookies and candy, below a pair of cupboards with even more food stored inside.

Jackpot.

The League’s not picky when it comes to food, anything will do when your stomach’s keeping you up at night. Well, Dabi can’t say the same for himself—he fucking hates fish. He’d much rather deal with an empty stomach rather than scarf down a few meager bites of sushi. Just the thought of it makes him want to puke.

He can’t take too much the first night, that’ll only make her wonder. It’s best to have as little people in this secluded house as possible. So for now he stuffs his pockets with small snacks for the guys back at base…and maybe even a few candy bars for Toga. Last thing that little psycho needs is more sugar in her system, but he’d rather not hear her whine that he didn’t get anything for her when he gets back.

Plus, this girl doesn’t seem to have any pomegranates around (or any fruit or vegetables, for that matter), so candy will have to do.

When both pockets are jammed with food, he takes a step back to survey the rest of the house. At least the inside looks marginally better than the outside, save for the abhorrent dining room. Simple and sweet, even if it’s a little bland in color.

A gray couch with a couple of pillows in bright colorful pillowcases. A side table with one too many remotes on it, along with a paperback that’s definitely seen better days. A kitchen isle with a sink cluttered with dirty dishes, and a single stool resting beneath the opposite end. Not a single house plant in sight, but plenty of photos throughout, some on the wall but most taped on the fridge. Must be friends and family—but so far, he can only see one person living in this house.

How sad, she must be so lonely without anyone else here…

He rolls his eyes and trods up the creaky set of stairs. Might as well take a peek at the rest of the house, right?

The hallways split up into three major bedrooms. One is filled with storage totes and moving boxes, still waiting to be unpacked (though, by the layer of dust on each of them, he’s not thinking any time soon). The other bedroom is filled, and he means filled, with books. Every square inch is either vacated with an old aging shelf or a stack of hardcovers on the floor. It’s messy and cluttered and he slams the door shut as soon as he opens it.

Lives like a fucking slob, doesn’t she?

The final bedroom turns out to be the biggest one of all, and it’s the only one in the house that actually lives up to its name. A dresser, a desk, and surprise, surprise, another fucking bookcase. There’s also a bed with a thousand plushies on the covers, each one more ridiculous than the last. A giraffe, a raccoon, and whatever the fuck that is. Some weird fuzzy brown creature with a large snout and a bitchy expression on its face. Toga probably knows the name of it, but Dabi couldn’t care less.

There’s also a set of double doors that leads out to a little terrace. It looks better than the rest of the house—must be a newer addition—overlooking the forest beyond. Overall it’s a cute little spot to live in.

And still no sign of anyone else living here with her.

He’s smirking now, thinking of all the things he can sneak out of here in the next few nights—when something else catches his eye. A strange outline under the blanket of the bed, in the center of all the damn toys staring back at him.

He has half a mind to burn the little giraffe to a crisp as he reaches in for the mysterious object. And it’s…a book. Fucking shocker.

No, wait—it’s a journal. Only a few pages filled in so far, the ink messy against the bright white pages. It’s the size of his palm, with a black leather cover and a matching black string attached to the spine, probably to act as a bookmark. And sure enough it’s stuck in a certain spot in the book, the entry dated to just a few nights ago.

I want to see him again. I know that sounds wrong, but it’s the truth. I can’t really explain it, no matter how hard I try. Everything that comes out just sounds wrong…but in my head it makes perfect sense.

I know I’m probably screwed in the head for thinking this. For thinking about him like this. Like I could be the one to change him, to be the only one he wouldn’t kill on sight.

No, wait a minute. I was, wasn’t I? We saw each other that night at the store, and he didn’t even try to hurt me.

He can feel his brow inching further up with every word he reads. What the fuck is she talking about? He flips to another random page—

And the answer’s staring him right in the face, in stark black ink.

Dabi

I want to see him again. Ask him so many questions, the same ones that keep rattling away in my head. Why did you become a villain? Where did you come from? What is your favorite color?

Please, just one more time. We don’t even have to talk to each other. I just wanna see him with my own two eyes. Now that I know he’s real, that he’s the villain everyone’s afraid of. And I know I should be too, and I am…but I think I’m more curious of him. Maybe that just makes me stupid.

Yeah, I’m just stupid.

The words are swimming on the pages, blurring together, screaming in his head so loud he wonders if he’s read them out loud. But no, it’s dead silent in this room, in this house. Just him and this little black book, written in the hand of that little weirdo. The same one that chooses to live in a creepy old house in the middle of the forest, the one that works at a sketchy department store well into the night. The same one that didn’t scream once she saw him—but instead offered to let him go, even when she knew he was stealing.

And for some reason, he can’t hold back the smirk that stretches across his face.

Of all the people in this city, in this whole damn country, he thinks he’s found the one that intrigues him the most.

Poor girl, doesn’t even know what she’s caused. Just mindlessly writing her thoughts down in her diary, hoping no one will ever read what she’s written.

As carefully as he can, he tucks the book back in its place under the covers. As tempting as it is to take it with him, he knows that’ll only cause more suspicion. Still, he wants to leave her a love letter of his own—something that lets her know she’s not alone in her fascination.

So he does.

And a few minutes later he’s climbing out the kitchen window and making the trek through the forest, pockets full with snacks and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You hate Saturday nights. Arguably the busiest night of the week, and yet you’re still so short-staffed the cashiers end up taking the full brunt of the work. Ringing register, sorting supplies, stocking shelves—oh wait, we need you back up front to do register. Wait why aren’t you working on that cart I told you to finish? Excuse me, can you unlock this item for me? Can you help me check out, and only me, these lines are too long for my liking. Why can’t you be in two places at once?

Not that you ever find it fun to come to work…but Saturday nights just make it a little less fun. And once it calms down and the store closes up, you have to make the journey back home half-asleep. It’s a miracle you haven’t woken up in the middle of the forest yet.

Tonight is one of those nights, where you stumble your way back home like you’ve just had one hell of a night at the bar. But no amount of rubbing your eyes or chugging the bottle of soda in your hands will keep you upright. Eventually you see your little house in the distance, and your chest starts to feel a little lighter at the promise of sleep.

You fumble with the keys twice before managing to unlock the door. Latching it shut behind you, you don’t even turn on any lights before heading straight to your room. The dishes and laundry can wait till tomorrow. Right now, all you need is some fucking sleep.

The trio of stuffed animals on your bed greet you when you step into the room. Before coming to live here, your mother insisted you bring along some childhood stuffies with you, just so you wouldn’t get too lonely. And you hate to say it, but she was absolutely right. More often than not do you find yourself cuddling up to them, wondering about your family back home.

You kick off your shoes and drape your jacket over the back of the desk chair. Then you flop face first onto the bed, not even bothering to change into pajamas. You know you’ll be out cold within five minutes, so what’s the point?

“Goodnight, Rascal,” you mumble to the little raccoon, “goodnight, A.J.,” you pet the little giraffe, “and goodnight, Maxwell.” The little capybara toy is your favorite, but you’ll never admit it out loud. (Not when the other two can hear you.)

You roll over onto the bed, but something sharp juts into your side. You groan and force your hand beneath the covers to yank it out—oh, that’s right… you forgot you’d left your little notebook in bed with you. Must’ve fallen asleep while writing in it last night.

But there’s something sticking out of it, something that prevents it from closing all the way. You open it up and a scrap of paper falls out; not a loose page from the book, but a folded-up index card. One that’s got a note of its own written messily on the side.

One that makes the exhaustion all but vanish from your body.

You should keep this book in a safer hiding spot. You never know who might be reading all your little love notes, doll.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #kerosene and butterflies #tw: stalking #restricted fics

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don-dake · 1 month

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R I P L E Y (2024)

***Contains SPOILERS***

A review (of sorts, but more a rambling opinion piece that veers off the main subject occasionally).

So I've watched R I P L E Y (2024), all eight episodes of it. One word: Bravissimo!

As someone who loves the Ripliad series of novels by Patricia Highsmith immensely, and having watched all the Ripley film adaptations there are thus far — Plein Soleil aka Purple Noon (1960), The American Friend aka Der Amerikanische Freund (1977), The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999), Ripley's Game (2002), and Ripley Under Ground (2005) — I went into this new series (released on Netflix on April 4th) with expectations…

Not high, for I've learned it's never good to have high expectations or you'll more than likely just be setting yourself up for disappointment…but with expectations all the same!

Thus far, my favourite Ripley film adaptation had been 2002's Ripley's Game starring John Malkovich as an older Ripley. Had been. Until this series that is! I still love Ripley's Game a lot of course! (heh!) And there really should be no comparison given it's two different mediums and the two Ripleys are portrayed from different times of the character's life.

So saying, this new series definitely sets a new standard for a Ripley adaptation! And as someone who love the books a lot, I'm glad this series is very closely adapted from the first book!

The decision to go for a black and white cinematography, I was skeptical about that at first but after looking at the trailers and reading on the director's reasoning for going B & W with this, I can understand why, and generally agree with his decision.

Though at times, especially when looking at the wonderful interior sets, I'll be wishing I could see it in all its colour glory and thinking what a waste it was not to have it in colour, but that is but a minor hitch, for the B & W cinematography is done with superb mastery and skill, and it's hard to find fault with going this route. And it does contribute to getting into the film noir feel from films of yesteryear.

On the actors, I was skeptical on Andrew Scott as Ripley at first, but I'm happy to say he has proven me wrong and his Ripley, while not as young as Ripley should be at the start of the novel series, is one that is characterised the closest, and if Showtime/Netflix has any plans to adapt the rest of the novels, Scott will be perfect as an older Ripley, I think!

Maybe that was/is the plan…that's why Scott was chosen even though age wise, he doesn't quite fit in the beginning…one can hope! (heh!)

Moving on, just a brief rambling on the other main actors/characters because I'm getting tired:

Love Dakota Fanning as Marge Sherwood, she was exactly how I imagined Marge to be as I read the (first) book. A superb performance by Fanning I'd say!

Johnny Flynn as Dickie Greenleaf was underwhelming for me partly because in my eyes, Jude Law was/is the perfect Dickie (even if his — Law's — American accent was/is questionable), but partly also because I find Flynn is lacking charisma (sorry, Flynn fans!), I didn't get the sense of what was so fascinating about this Dickie that Ripley would be so enamoured with him or his lifestyle, enough to kill for it.

Perhaps the fault lies partly with the script too for I felt we the audience didn't get to see more of what drew Ripley to Dickie, besides his obvious wealth and status.

Eliot Sumner as Freddie Miles. Now this was the character that underwent the most drastic change as compared to the book and the 1999 The Talented Mr. Ripley film adaptation. In both the book and the 1999 film, Freddie was described (and portrayed to perfection by Philip Seymour Hoffman in my opinion) as an American with carrot-red hair, stocky, loud and all round obnoxious from miles away sort.

2024 Freddie is slim-built, androgynous looking, with a cherub face and British…he's practically a whole different character except in name.

As such, it's unfair to compare I guess, but having envisioned Freddie as described in the book for so long, helped along by PSH's award-worthy performance, I'll just say this is not the Freddie for me.

But, that doesn't mean Sumner's Freddie was bad. In terms of being almost a foil to Ripley, Sumner's Freddie is still quite effectively annoying.

Special mentions to Maurizio Lombardi and Margherita Buy as Inspector Ravini and Signor(in)a Buffi (Ripley's landlady) respectively! I enjoyed watching these two characters.

Also a special mention to Lucio (Signor(in)a Buffi's cat), who, had it been able to speak, Ripley would certainly have silenced! (heh!)

Last but not least, a special mention to John Malkovich as Reeves Minot.

I was so excited when I first saw Malkovich in the trailer because not only is his casting a nice tribute to his turn as Tom Ripley in Ripley's Game (2002), I thought he would be playing Herbert Greenleaf at first, but he turned out to be playing Reeves Minot! Even better! Gives more hope that new seasons of R I P L E Y (2024) may happen!

Those who have read the books will know that Reeves Minot is a recurring character in the later books — I can't really remember how many exactly, it's been some time since I last read them (and I should again!).

To sum up, I did enjoy this series tremendously and will definitely rewatch many times to come, and I hope we'll get further adaptations of the other books with the same standards as set for this one!

P.S.: I've seen a few people mention “this (R I P L E Y) is like Saltburn!”. I never heard of the film Saltburn before looking at some opinion pieces, but after looking it up, dare I say, Saltburn ripped off the Ripliad stories and its characters (the Ripliad books first came out in the 1950s) and I think it's more appropriate to say “Saltburn is like Ripley”!

#Dake Rambles #Ripley 2024 #Ripley Netflix #Andrew Scott #John Malkovich #Ripley's Game #The Talented Mr Ripley

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merbear25 · 7 days

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Mousefood

If given the choice, would you rather risk everything to save your community or just watch it burn? A horrendous outbreak quickly claimed the lives of many, but you were one of the few who stuck around in hopes of finding a cure. You knew of another, a scientist by the name of Caesar, who chose to stay and even offered his assistance. Although he didn't exactly come across as the trustworthy type, you were in desperate need of his help. However, his intentions weren't what they seemed.

CW: Plague AU, mentions of infections, some gore, death, fem!reader (envisioned to be late 20s+)

a/n: I just really wanted to write something for myself after the last follower event! Of course, it's got to be with Caesar. I'd like to thank @escenariosinfumables and @lady-of-endless for helping aid my obsession with him and @bby-deerling for wanting to be tagged in whatever this is. I poured my heart and soul into this, and it is by far my favorite thing I’ve written.

Curiosity drew many to its flame. However, most were engulfed by the intensity it came with, becoming nothing more than ash. With its light leading the way, the shadows danced upon the holder of the candle, calling out to what lurked in the dark. In spite of the threat of the unknown closing in, it was here that the surface of understanding our world was scratched.

Embracing the threat this reality had to offer was what led to great discoveries, for those mysteries which were just out of reach would eventually be unearthed by those most deserving. When those dark corners drew nearer and nearer, a whetted appetite opened a can of an array of worms ready to burrow into the crevices below.

The deeper they went, the more disarray was left spreading through the soil and infecting the roots of once healthy plants. Although it was a shame to watch such beauty in the world wilt away, success could never be accomplished without noble sacrifices.

There was still so much to uncover in our world, most of which was in plain sight. However, inquisitiveness could be a dangerous trait, especially when paired with an overactive imagination.

It began with a few questions he asked himself, “How much would the human body be able to endure?”, “Is such a rise in temperature enough for the disease to survive?”, “How long could it live on surfaces?”

A new world was flourishing in the petri dish on his desk; aeromonas hydrophila had earned a special place in his heart, as it had the most promising future amongst the others. In spite of the potential for such a calamitous future to unfold, there were countless efforts still to be made: trial and error was always a must no matter how promising something appeared to be.

Ordering one of his many lackeys to fetch something from off of his desk, he should have known they’d be negligent enough to disturb the slumbering plague. An important life lesson was about to go underway: the henchman chose to enter his master’s lab without any protective gear, knowing full well the dangers that came with it.

To make matters worse for himself, he had various hangnails. Other than those stinging for some time, they also left him vulnerable to infection, to which he would only have himself to blame.

While sorting through the scattered papers, he failed to catch a glimpse of the terror waiting to be uncaged, knocking into it ever so slightly. Despite the fact that the lid was on, a small droplet seeped through the crack when his hand collided with it. The splash of strange substance caused him little to no worry, simply brushing it off on his shirt while also spreading it across his open-sore hand.

Shortly after retrieving what Caesar had asked for, the lackey continued his streak of recklessness, unknowingly allowing the bacteria free realestate to other vacant lots on his person: rubbing his eyes, eating with his hands, and picking his nose when he thought no one was looking.

With the bacteria being spoiled for choice, it took full advantage of its new residence, burrowing its way deeper within the tissue, spreading misery to all the corners of the host. It wasn’t long before the worker started complaining: feeling hot and feverish were coupled with beads of sweat over his body. Irritation was left unconcealed as he berated his goon for everything under the sun before begrudgingly letting him go just to rid himself of the constant belly aching.

With annoyance still fresh, he took to sorting out some paperwork. What little decrease in anger was disregarded when faced with many of his notes scattered about his desk. Through the fits of cursing, his hands frantically collected his work. When uncovering the little friend he’d been growing, he was intrigued.

Having a closer look at his workstation, he noticed the lid on the petri dish was slightly ajar. Upon further examination, he saw that the contents within it had been disturbed. Putting two and two together wasn't difficult. It was obvious that the buffoon who'd just left was the cause of this. Despite his persistent irritation, perhaps this was one of life's happy accidents. Instead of hauling that henchman back, he thought it'd be better to see how his modifications played out when given free reign on that lamb―raising it for slaughter.

Putting on his face before leaving the room, the painted smile greeted the acquired host. “How are you feeling?”

His golden eyes scanned the subject, noting the obvious sickly complexion. “Just really hot…like I'm burning alive.” Sweat had been beading on his brow, now trickling down his clammy skin.

“Anything else?”

“No, just nauseous I guess.”

Guessing the disease was spreading much more quickly than originally anticipated, he hummed to himself to portray a sense of thoughtful consideration. “It's such a pity to have to ask this of you and the others, but seeing as supplies are low and there aren't many hands to even gather them, you'll have to journey into town.”

Faith in their master and trust in the process had become second nature to his men, making them malleable to his liking. They hung on each of his words as though they were holy scripture, sacrificing themselves by falling in line with his agenda.

“Now, be sure you don't come back until you've got everything on this list, all right? We can't afford to waste time on nonsensical runs.”

Wishing them luck while they disappeared behind the thick trees, an eye roll queued behind an exasperated groan. “What have I done to be cursed with the presence of such idiocy?”

Stumbling into the town below, the faint glow of the pharmacy’s sign led them there with ease. Upon entry, however, the sight of the ill one was cause for alarm. Gasping at the state of him, they were bombarded with questions, none of which they had the answers to.

“Well, can you at least tell us where you came from?”

“Just up the hill. We were low on supplies and were sent for them.”

“He shouldn't be traveling anywhere. He needs to see a doctor. Come, we'll help you bring him there.”

Laying down on the cot brought no relief to the increasing pain. The doctors who were called to tend to him were baffled when their hypotheses failed again and again.

Since this illness was proving to be unruly, they were left no choice but to quarantine the others, for they too were showing questionable symptoms.

After an agonizing night, the morning fared no better. Rivers of crimson secreted, staining their faces, sweat that soaked through any and all fabric and was hot to the touch: the medical professionals were regrettably repulsed by them.

However, once members of the staff complained about feeling unwell, repulsion shifted into panic. Having sent the unknowing hosts to town, the residents fell victim to their naivety in their master.

It wasn't long before the medicine they had ran out. Even if the treatment only worked to dull the intensity of the pain, it did nothing in terms of curing them.

Patient zero started suffering from convulsions, brain swelling, and eventually organ failure—that was what they told the townsfolk to stifle any more chaos. In reality, his and the others’ bodies were deteriorating, earning the disease the name the Grim Death.

Without so much as a goodbye, those who only bore the title of doctor but lacked the compassion fled to save their own hide.

However, there was one who, against the odds, chose to stay in hopes of curing those suffering. With a sizable amount of knowledge, you persevered, in spite of knowing your own limitations. You needed someone to help you. Asking around, there was talk of a scientist who was thought to be mad.

Not being spoiled for choice, you ventured up the hill to him. Through all the weeds out front and the branches hanging overhead, a sinister aura loomed. Even with suspicions and doubts nagging at you to turn back, you were determined to see this through.

Dropping the heavy door knocker on the wooden surface, the echos sounding from within could be heard from the other side, leaving goosebumps along your skin.

The door suddenly cracked open, leaving a mere sliver for you to meet the man who'd built an unfavorable reputation for himself.

"Who are you?" His tone was flat as he stared you down.

"(Y/n). I'm from town, a doctor just trying to make sense of all this." When he didn't say anything, you continued, "I was told that you may have the resources and expertise to help me put an end to this." With a hopeful look in your eyes, you awaited his confirmation.

Huffing slightly at the inconvenience of you being there, he was still an opportunist; desperation encompassed you, practically offering yourself up on a silver platter. He would be able to ring you dry of all your potential.

"I have my ways." Looking you up and down, as if sizing up your worth, he stated, "Come in, and we can start chipping away at this iceberg of a predicament."

Jarring the door enough for you to slip through, he then promptly slammed it shut. Finding yourself in the center of the front entry, the surroundings lurched out at you: grand staircases on either side, a chandelier with candles that had been waned to near stubs, and vines that crept along the walls, entangling with some fresh cobwebs. It was blatantly obvious that he was living alone and by the looks of it he had been for a long time.

When you turned to face him, his eyes were fixated on you, trying to sort out if that sap story about wanting to save the town was just some ploy.

Being the one to break the silence, you asked what news of what was happening in town managed to reach him. Not wanting to assume he didn't know anything or barely anything, you trusted your question was inviting enough.

Tilting his head up slightly, his gaze followed down his nose, "But of course I know of the happenings shaking up that town. News of such horrors travels quickly as I'm sure you could guess."

Just as your train of thought was leaving the station, he stopped you, "Before you start sharing your experience, why don't we take it to the next room. I'm sure such riveting stories are ones I ought to be sitting down for."

He led you into the parlor, offering you a seat on the sofa near the dying embers in the fireplace. The armchair adjacent to you was occupied by him. "Go on now, my dear." He gestured with a smile upon his pale face.

"Well, if you've heard of the matters, then I'm sure you can understand the severity." He nodded, showing his acknowledgement. "Whatever medicine we had only just hardly helped the symptoms and quickly ran out. I'm sure it's possible to find a cure—in fact I know it is—though I can't create it on my own." Owning up to your own limitations fileted you, displaying all your vulnerabilities to this man you'd just met.

Waving his hand as if to fan off the doubts swarming the room, his voice was gentle, "Rest assured, my dear, for there is no illness out there that can best me."

"S-so does that mean you'll help? Or rather I'll help you?" You instantly humbled yourself, since you could feel you were in the presence of genius.

Grinning at your faux pas, he confirmed, "Yes, it does."

While relief casted itself on your expression, he was quick to clip the wings carrying optimism, "However, there are some rules you must abide by if we're going to be tackling this outbreak together."

When you voiced your compliance, he listed off the rules, "Firstly, whatever work we do must be kept confidential. Secondly, any..." he carefully crafted his next demands, "requests I make must not be met with resistance. Have faith and trust the process. Thirdly, seeing as conditions in town are worsening, I think it's best for you to stay here." Getting up from his chair, he motioned towards the fireplace, the logs wearing a faint glow.

Not wanting to rock the boat, you couldn't exactly let your surprise at the last rule slip, "I hope I don't come across as ungrateful saying this, but would it really be necessary to have me stay here?"

"Hm? So you'd prefer to be surrounded by the sick, risking infection yourself?" Your eyes falling to your hands said it all. "Believe me, dear, you'll be able to do more for them helping me here than you ever would stuck there with them."

Not having much grounds to argue with the conditions, you threw caution to the wind in dreaming of a future for those being affected. "I'm willing to do what it takes to help those in need."

Looking up at him, the sly grin stretching across his wasn't even attempted to be concealed. "Excellent. Such a noble display of self-sacrifice will not go unnoticed, I can assure you."

There was a clear shift in your demeanor; acting quickly, he impaled a pitchfork in your stream of consciousness, giving you the illusion of being able to see beyond all the while still placing you behind bars.

"Please," his voice soft and welcoming, "consider this arrangement as simply temporary and me as your guide to end all of this mess."

Fragmented skepticism was still scattered throughout your mind, yet the glimmers of hope shined through. The shadows of doubt were overlooked by your want to reinstate normalcy, leading you astray from sound judgment. With your confidence in this alliance still shaky, you were given no choice but to put your faith in this man.

Your submission was clear. As he leaned down to your eye level, he cocked his head in interest. "Shall I show you around then?" While being led out of the room, the slight glow from under the wood finally died out.

Listening to him share the history of his home was awe-inspiring. Each story that passed his lips was captivating, and each room appeared to come alive as he spoke about them. There was a question itching at you, though. With him rambling on about how vast and rich everything about this place was, you attempted a polite interruption.

"This is quite an impressive home with an undeniably spellbounding past, but if you don't mind me asking, where exactly do you work?"

“Ah, let me show you.”

Making your way out back and ducking under the overgrown tree limbs, he brought you to the bottom of a cliff. Grinning at your lingering disorientated state from the twists and turns he’d been throwing at you, he patted the tall wall of earth.

“This leads to a world many other scientists and doctors could only dream of.” With a devilish glint in his eyes, he kept them locked on you while the PIN pad appeared. Such a subtlety of awe shown on your gentle face caused a few soft chuckles to escape him. You were, after all, just moments away from laying eyes on the most astounding lab known to man.

The earth parted, allowing the both of you access to a world beyond your wildest dreams. A spiraling staircase led to the cluttered, yet organized workspace. Bookcases lined the tall walls, filled with knowledge ranging from a multitude of scientific subjects to history. With ceilings climbing high, the feeling of being a mere insect was hard to shake.

Throwing his hands in the air, he gave an enthusiastic spin, “This is where all of the world’s greatest mysteries are unveiled.” Leering over his shoulder, he leaned down, his voice husky from the thrill of sharing his brilliance with someone. “The whispers in the dark are brought to light in this very room.”

Shuddering from the overly familiar closeness, his words were laced in a toxin, alluding to the lengths at which he went to obtain such intelligence.

“This, however, is simply my study.” Stretching back to his full height, he offered to show you his lab. “Surely you didn’t come all this way just to see this. Let’s continue the grand tour.”

The elongated corridor gave the illusion of stretching further and further. Once finally reaching the end, he flung open the door. “Ladies first,” he grinned.

When entering, he slapped his open palm against the switch on the wall, causing you to jump as the lights above illuminated the laboratory. A laugh rose from him, which left butterflies swarming in the pit of your stomach.

Brushing past you, he gestured to the vials of various substances, beakers, and the well-sorted notes and binders, all of which kept his brilliance cataloged. “This is where the magic happens, my dear.”

Fidgeting with your loose fabric, assuming that you were granted permission to look around seemed foolish, so instead, you peered around the room from your personal bubble.

Eyeing you, he saw you as a rather curious thing, something for him to pick apart. “Tell me, what do you specialize in?”

“Immunology,” holding your head high and your stare firm.

“Oh? Well, how lucky I am to have such gifted hands to aid me.” Humming at the sight of confidence radiating through you, he questioned further, “And how long have you had to wield such expertise?”

“I’ve only just finished medical school.” Despite knowing how that sounded—a rookie with only the theories but none of the practice—you refused to allow the self-assurance in your capabilities to budge.

“Then what a great learning experience this will be for you.”

Suspecting a mocking tone, deflection came to your defense, “Yes, it’ll look great on my resume.”

What seemed like a spec of genuineness was layered in his laughter. “That’s the spirit!”

A slight tug at the corner of your mouth was shown, giving your nerves a bit of a break. Looking around the room once more, your eagerness to have a glimpse into his mind made it hard to stay still. Risking a glance, your curiosity couldn’t be held back, “May I have a look around?”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked, “Sure, after all we’ll be spending many moons in here together.”

Nodding at his statement, you were mindful of your step and distance from his work, not even daring to breathe on them in the wrong way.

Pride bubbled inside him, while he watched you soaking in many of his past feats. Perhaps your lack of experience wouldn’t hinder you from appreciating some of the finer tastes life had to offer—or rather, he had to offer.

“What condition were the first patients in when you left?”

“Oh, they— ” nightmarish images of their decaying bodies flashed in your mind, “their conditions were critical. Their organs were…deteriorating, as if acid had been poured on them.” Choking back the tears from the horrors you witnessed, you would never be able to forget their pain filled screams for help.

In spite of the fact he was elated at the progress the creature was making in such a short amount of time, such celebration wouldn’t fare well for him in the long run. “How awful! Those poor souls.” Placing a hand on his chest, he signaled his condolences for the terror you must’ve been subjected to.

Seeing the grief on your face made you easy pickings. “Well, don’t you worry, we’ll start our practices first thing in the morning.”

“In the morning? Why not now?” There was a clear sense of urgency in what you’d just told him, so you couldn’t wrap your head around why anyone would choose to wait.

“Now, now, calm yourself. It’s already nightfall and we’ll need our strength if we’re to be of any use to them. Plus, there are a few plants in the area we can test with, and I’m sure you’ll agree that they’ll be much easier to find in broad daylight. Hm?”

His words flowed like cream and his tone felt like velvet, yet there was just something off about him that you just couldn’t put your finger on. However, you were in no position to question his advice. He was, of course, much more experienced than you, but you began to wonder that with experience came a lack of empathy.

“You’re right,” you admitted.

“Oh, darling, of course I am! Don’t get carried away by the excitement.” He moved to your side, his presence exuding every ounce of authority over you. Placing his hand gently on your shoulder, he leaned down, popping your personal bubble. “Trust me when I say you’ll only get burned.”

A deep red burned your ears, when he pulled away. As you hesitantly looked up at him, his unnerving grin and piercing dead eyes aroused a fear in you that hadn’t yet been realized. An involuntary nod was all you could muster in that moment.

Sucking in a sharp inhale, he tilted his head while making a suggestion, “Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick read, though.”

Watching the color reappear on your face gave him more satisfaction than it should have. “Oh, that would be nice! I mean, I just want to feel like I’m doing something,” you reigned back on your joy at him changing his mind.

Sighing at your display, he covered the drop of irritation skillfully, “Completely understandable. And well, you are a doctor, aren’t you?”

Being reminded of all those who were too cowardly to stay and help, you thought it’d be best that you not unleash all of your broodiness. Shaking off the ones who’d failed those folk, you were open to whatever knowledge you may gain from Caesar.

Having followed him back to the library, you observed as his finger traced along the spines. Lightly tapping one, he glanced back at you, “This one. It'll be a good start in finding which plants will be most suitable.”

You gladly took the book he offered you, mesmerized by the delicate pages which showed its age. Mindfully thumbing through the pages, there were a few that called out to you.

The enthusiasm radiating off of you came with warmth he hadn't felt in quite some time. Being surrounded by people who lacked any luster, any spark of light had taken a toll on his own pleasure in what he did. As you combed through each of the pages you bookmarked, he had a hunch you were going to be a rather entertaining guest.

Deciding you had your fill for the night, he guided you to the room you'd be staying in. Wishing you sweet dreams, the comfort of the pillow quickly pulled you into a deep slumber. While you slept heavily and went in and out of dreams that stirred the dread swirling in your heart, you were met with twinges of pain but still you did not awake till morning.

Jolting up in bed, you triggered the room to spin and your head to pound. Looking about the room, you'd hoped the last few days were just nightmares, weaving into what could be mistaken for reality, but to your dismay, you could never wake up from this.

Creaking the door open, you were given a dimly lit view down the corridor. Concentrating on each faint sound in the distance, you cautiously made your way down the stairs. Even though you two spent some time getting to know each other last night, he was still a stranger and you were under his roof, abiding by his rules. Crossing any boundaries would not be taken lightly, that much you could gather from him.

Peeping around the corner, the muffins plated on the kitchen counter caught your eye. With the strong winds of the outbreak pulling you every which way, the last meal you had felt like a distant memory. You drummed your fingers next to the aesthetically pleasing morsels, wishing that he'd come by so you could properly ask permission.

With the minutes ticking away, your thoughts wandered, leaving you to ponder his whereabouts. The muffins taunted you, but your hunger was off set by the discomfort of stuffing your face with treats that may or may not have been for you.

In a slight huff of annoyance, you got up to search for him, but before you could cross the threshold, he appeared at the end of the adjoining hall.

“Have to eat and run?” His playful tone carried over to you.

“N-no, actually, just run I suppose.”

While entering the room, his gaze immediately casted from you to the plated baked goods. “You're allowed to have one. If you'd like of course.”

There was something in the way he offered that churned your stomach, causing you to lose your appetite. “No, thank you. Maybe the current events have affected my hunger.”

Shrugging off your refusal, he added, “Later then. You'll have to eat at some point.”

“It's not that I don't appreciate the offer! It's just…,” you did your best to mask any unease, “I’d feel so much better if we made progress with our research. Could we please get started on it soon?”

Muffled giggles trailed out of him, “I don't mean to laugh, but have they any idea how lucky they are to have someone as determined as you fighting for them?”

The slight shift in your eyes was very telling. “They don't truly appreciate you, do they?” The rhetorical question pierced you deeper than you would've ever guessed.

“I'm willing to bet they never have,” lining his observations with incitement, he inched closer as if inviting you to bear your hatred for them.

“It doesn't matter whether they cared about me or not,” your vocal cords were already swelling from the anticipation of heartache, “What matters is doing the right thing.”

Snorting at your noble display, each moment with you was becoming more glaring that you were going to be tougher to sink his claws into. “Oh, I never tire of selflessness…comradery is truly endearing.” He didn't bother hiding his eye roll and sarcasm.

Disgust at his disinterest in the lives that were being lost boiled within. How can such a person exist?

He was clamping down on a nerve without an ounce of care. However, you couldn't let him get to you. You had to push through these ‘temporary conditions’, then afterwards you'd rid yourself of him.

“I think it'd be best if we focus on the task at hand.” Keeping your eyes locked on his, your perseverance remained unwavering.

Tilting his head from side to side, he hummed in agreement, “What a great idea.”

Gathering the notes the two of you compiled last night, the plants for which you'd forage had been decided on. Venturing outside to collect them, the peace and quiet found in nature could never be matched.

Distancing yourself from Caesar gave you time to reflect; going back to your repulsions, there must be a deeper issue at hand, one of which you were not equipped to deal with. In spite of all this, a shred of pity for the man crawled out from behind the corners of your mind. Being alone for who knew how long must carry a lot of weight. Then posed the question as to why he was alone: by choice or chased away?

Even if there was evil displayed in this world, you held out hope that most people had good in them—including him. When you returned with the ingredients, you challenged yourself to look at him through a new lens and wanted to give him the chance that perhaps many others hadn't.

“Would you care to observe, (y/n)?”

“Yes, I would.” Taking your place next to him, you mentally took note of each movement he made, soaking in the valuable skills he willingly shared with you.

At one point when you needed to make one of your runs to his library to double check something, you caught yourself; you were thoroughly enjoying this time with him, to which shame and guilt were dragged behind. What gull you had to be having fun in the midst of a new plague.

Unbeknownst to you, the aura you carried was thick with self-loathing. Pushing through the tasks at hand, those intrusive thoughts twisted their persistence, whispering in your ear: how wretched you are, how lowly of a doctor you must be to find pleasure in this. Can't you hear their cries? They're voices are being carried to you on the back of the wind that's rustling those leaves.

You caught stray glares here and there. “Pull yourself together,” you scrutinized yourself. The inner monologue, however, was snowballing into a one-sided argument, leaving you in an echo chamber.

Stretching back in his chair, he sighed, “What's happened?”

Rapid blinks and a puzzled look coupled as you stared at him. A faint ‘Hm?’ was all that followed.

His golden eyes squinted at you, observing you just as he was doing with the samples. Pointing out the error you were about to make, he reiterated, this time in an irked tone.

“Nothing.” Your voice was dismissive.

“You know, most people are such dreadful liars and you're no exception.”

Unwilling to hold your tongue, you informed him of the joy you felt in pushing forth towards a discovery.

“So then why are you sulking?”

“Because I can't help but feel bad for enjoying the process of finding a cure.”

Rubbing his eyes, there was little patience he had for your endless amount of compassion. “The world doesn't stop just because there's a new disease. Life goes on, so why let it stop you from enjoying it?”

Crossing your arms at his advice, deep down you knew he was right and you hated it.

“If you became a doctor to save everyone, then you're in for a rude awakening, my dear.”

“I know I can't save everyone!”

“Then stop acting like you can! I mean, you've wasted so much time fretting over how sorry you feel about everything and anything and for what? Hm? Many have died and many more will quickly follow, so stop letting that bleeding heart of yours get in the way of progress.”

A loathing festered inside you towards him but more yourself. Regaining your composure and any shred of dignity, you excused yourself to bury your nose in research.

Cracking open a few books and setting them around you, the urge to wallow in your own self pity was warded off. Despite the vile coating still lingering in your mouth, his view on the world draped over you.

Harsh words gnawing at your conscience, seeping through the newly formed cracks. Self loathing swelled in knowing he was right.

Carrying out further experiments on the plants you'd collected in silence was becoming more and more unpleasant. However, there was nothing you felt like you could say. Keeping your nose to the grindstone would be the simplest way to convey where your heart lay.

As the day drew to a close and the dread from earlier still hanging over you, going to bed without supper was an easy decision. Yet even with the exhaustion of the day weighing you down, rest served as no aid: tossing and turning, whining from pain, eyes that fluttered open but never pulling you awake.

Waking to the dull gray that clouded your room, your rigid form staggered across your host's line of vision.

His legs carried him fast, circling around you like a vulture.

“Despite looking it, I'm not dead,” you croaked.

Chuckling at your spunk, he offered a solution, “I believe I may have something for you.”

Following him into the kitchen, you already assumed what he had planned. “It'd have to be one strong cup of coffee to liven me up.”

“No, no, none of that!” Clanking jars trying to reach for something, an ‘Ah-ha!’ sounded before showing you a small glass bottle with a few stray pills.

Displaying them proudly, he instructed you to take a blue one now and a yellow one before bed. “They'll help keep your mind in check.”

With a searing glare, it shifted from the bottle to him.

“Tsk, you know, you're really going to have to learn to trust me at some point.”

A swirl of guilt stirred in you.

“We are partners, aren’t we?” His grin was crooked while he jostled the pills, nabbing your attention in hopes of taking them.

“Yes…you're right.”

“Ah, those words are music to my ears.”

Huffing a half-hearted laugh, you popped the first pill.

“It shouldn't be long before you feel the effects. But, uh, please tell me when you feel better.” He turned to place some of the other containers up right.

“What's the rush? Are the plants going to disappear soon?”

Humming in slight amusement, he answered, “No, but I managed to come up with our first beta sample for a cure.” He glanced over his shoulder to witness the astonishment that would undoubtedly play on your face, keeping his gaze firm and analytical.

To no surprise, you were rattled with eagerness to put such a thing into action. “Really? That quickly? There's no way!”

“Oh, my dear, you have such little faith, but I can assure you that you're working with one of a kind.”

Stood there in awe, you couldn't believe he'd managed to create the first beta sample as quickly as he did. Your beams of gratitude fueled him in ways you'd only regret.

“Wait, so are you saying we can start testing it?”

“Well, it's not ideal to immediately start testing on patients, yet I'm afraid we have no other options.”

“That's true…they could have severe side effects.” When you hung your head at the thought, you missed his lips twisting into a grin.

He regained his composure before playing on your heart strings. “Oh, now don't you start worrying about that.” Cocking his head to the side, his intonation rose, “Aren't you hungry?”

“Well, no, but—”

“You haven't eaten since you got here. I'm starting to think you're snubbing my cooking,” he teased.

After finishing the meal, it dawned on you how your fatigue had completely disappeared. Clearing your throat caught his attention.

“Thank you very much for the meal, and I just noticed I'm feeling much better now.”

Clasping his hands together, he gave you a warm-hearted response, “That's wonderful! We need you to be in tip top shape if you're going into town.”

The assumption that you'd be the one carrying out the injections was obvious, but you would never protest anyway. Nodding at him, you confidently notified him that you were ready.

Talking through the correct dosage, you set out feeling sure in your abilities.

In spite of the fact it'd only been a day since you left, a few more people had fallen ill, and those you had fallen prior to it were in critical condition—the first unlucky few having already been pronounced dead.

Looking around, you saw a few nurses who'd stuck around, which brought you some relief. Informing the staff that you and Caesar were working to find an end to this, they felt as if they had no other option; they placed their faith in you.

Finding your way over to some cots, you did your best to soothe his cries before allowing him to be the first to test out this substance. You wished you could've done more, though it was morally questionable enough using one person as a guinea pig, let alone a fourth of the town.

Sticking around for an hour was more than long enough: the patient's heart rate spiked and his temperature climbed to life-threatening heights before convulsions ensued. Within the span of five minutes his body gave way, unable to fight any longer.

Even though you knew that the first sample wouldn't be the last, you'd still held out for something better. Trekking back up the hill, you gave Caesar the results.

He leaned back in his chair, mulling over what you'd bestowed on him and was then motivated with a new course of action.

Whatever doubt was circling around you was cleared once you saw that spark ignite. With new flares of motivation coursing through you, your hope remained unwavering.

“Oh, how careless of me. I nearly forgot to ask: do you feel…unwell at all?”

Reflecting on the lack of precautions you took in town, you had yet to feel any sign of illness creeping up. “I feel surprisingly fine, actually.”

He was seemingly pleased by your resilient immune system, leading the two of you to set forth on tweaking the faulty product.

With the moon high and the night still, your dark silhouettes trailed behind as you passed the entry’s threshold. Keeping to Caesar’s instructions, you swallowed the yellow pill before retiring to your room.

A faint ‘sweet dreams’ drifted after you while you were heading towards the staircase. Looking back to return his kindness, you wondered from where exactly he’d called out to you. Placing your hand on the railing, you called back to him but only deafness filled the rooms.

Not being keen on the idea of sticking around until he popped around a corner, you hurriedly got to your room. Laying in bed, praying that the pill he gave you would kick in soon, creaks seemed to sound off downstairs, in the rooms next to yours, at the foot of your bed, yet there was no one there to greet you when you shot up.

With sweat tickling your skin, you talked yourself down from the ledge; paranoia was sinking in, that’s all. There was nothing lurking in the corners of this house that you hadn’t already encountered. Laying your head back down on the pillow, the effects of the drug blanketed you in the warmth of its duvet.

Your eyes didn’t flutter open until the sun peeked from behind the clouds, leading a stray ray of light to cast on your sleeping form. Stirring under the sheets, a twinge of pain pricked at your shoulder. Rubbing it appeared to grace you with some ounce of relief, yet you had just about had it with these sleepless nights.

Thrashing the sheets off of your entangled legs, you found yourself downstairs without any true sense of purpose.

“Where are you off to in such a frenzy?”

Shooting your focus in the direction of the parlor, your host was relaxing on the sofa, wondering if you were showing some new kind of symptom for the plague.

“I don’t know what it is about this place, but I haven’t been able to have a proper night’s sleep since getting here.”

Frowning subtly, he asked, “Did the pill not help?”

“Well, no. I mean, it did but I woke up with this pain in my shoulder and—”

“It just sounds like you slept on it wrong,” he propped his arm against the arm rest to lean his cheek against it, smirking at you with complacency.

It was clear that you were finding it difficult to come up with a retort, which left yourself open to him.

“I think you’re going just a bit mad from everything that’s been happening.” His devilish grin danced upon his pale complexion.

“That’s not true! I just…I think I just need to feel like I’m contributing more? Maybe?”

His lips fell into a mocking pout, queuing an eye roll from you. “Well, if you want to contribute a little more, why don’t you assist me in making more…unconventional changes to the samples.”

The perplexing connotation of what he meant by ‘unconventional’ made you involuntarily shake your head in an attempt to rid of any strife that could follow. “What do you mean by ‘unconventional’?”

“Well, you saw with your own eyes that the plague is still spreading with many dying such horrific deaths, right? If we’re to save as many as possible, risks must be taken.”

Placing your face in your palms, you sought for ways of self-soothing. You couldn’t think of a good enough argument against taking such measures. With that being said, your voice shook with doubt, “I don’t know. We could end up killing more people than if we stick to our current method.”

“Perhaps,” he tilted his head from side to side to rattle your concerns around, “or perhaps not and the risks could save many more lives than originally anticipated.” Leaning forward, his smug smile tore down the assurance you were clinging to, “That’s why they’re called risks, (y/n).”

With fragments of humiliation biting at your cheeks, you felt inclined to agree with him, “F-fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“Excellent! Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Sunlight was now transitioning into dusk and with the day being laid to rest, you had a new version of yesterday’s sample. Being fed words of affirmation on your irreplaceable addition to these experiments, you ventured down into town again with his promises of this being the end of it ringing loudly in your ears.

Finding out many more in town had started falling ill, you regrettably had to pass over some who were beyond saving; there was only so much power you had and repairing organs was not within it.

The effects this time were nearly immediate; the patient’s veins in their arm ran with a deep purple and began bulging through the skin. What was in the injected arm rushed throughout the rest of the body before giving you a chance to process what was unfolding.

Within moments of it spreading, sizzling could be heard emerging from the seizing test subject. As a nurse rushed to support the ill-fated soul, he pulled back in agony. The sweat accumulating at the base of her head was deteriorating the fabric.

What lasted mere moments would forever be etched into your mind, making sure to slash away beliefs you’d become anything more than an assistant in genocide.

Breaking your way into Caesar’s, you were overcome with fits of rage and sorrow. Searching high and low for him, you set your rampage on his lab. Choking out his name in a pained yelp, you marched down the hall to find an empty room. Disbelief clouded your better judgment as you charged into the room.

You jolted out of your skin upon the sound of the slamming door ricocheting against the four walls. Leering down at his prey, he promptly shoved you back in a chair. His grim appearance didn’t falter while his piercing eyes burrowed their way to your core, wrapping your frightened heart with barbed wire and ready to squeeze if necessary.

“I’m assuming everything went as planned?” His gaze was unwavering but the side of his mouth was being tugged at.

“What was the point in all of this? Why did you keep me here?” Tears were stinging you as they swelled up.

“Well, for one, you came here on your own free will and offered to help me. That was simply an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. And, uh, quick question before I continue, did you touch that last patient by chance?”

Scanning each scattered remnant of your mind, you recalled trying to keep them from injuring themselves, remembering the slight dampness on their shirt.

“And that, my dear, would be the main reason. You see, I thought it was strange that despite being in town during the outbreak, you had no symptoms, so I decided to send you there again with the “cure”. When you came back with no complaints, I just had to see this through.”

“How do you know for sure though? That I’m immune. I mean, couldn’t there be other factors th—”

Tilting his head and giving you a sympathetic smile, “I think you know how.”

Streams of panic cascaded down your cheeks. “So, what are you just going to keep me here as some rat?”

“No, of course not! Luckily for you, you’re quite an entertaining guest.” His eyes casted down slightly before finishing his speech, “I will be the kind host I always have been towards you and offer you knowledge you could only dream of, as long as you comply with each and every test I run on you.”

Peering into each other's souls, there were clashing morals and dreams for the future, with which yours was in no shape to fight against. “Fine.” You muttered.

“Oh, come now. Don’t get in such a mood. I wasn’t lying about everything. You do have something unique about you, hence why you won’t be bound to a cage. But remember that only a waning candle sheds its light around, so just make sure that light of yours stays lit.”

Straightening up to his full height again, dismay engulfed you while you awaited his next demands. For once in your life, you wished you’d been selfish and fled with the others.

#x reader #onepiece #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece au #op #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #caesar clown #one piece caesar clown #caesar clown x reader #caesar clown x you #one piece imagine #caesar clown one piece

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ijustliketoreadstuff · 9 months

Text

Who used it?!

The sentimonster topic has always been very interesting to talk about, but recently, as I was conversing with a fellow Miraculer, whom has asked to be referred to as “Sunny D”, something new came to light. As a quick refresher, just as any miraculous, if the peacock miraculous is used when in a broken state, the holder will receive a terrible backlash that will not only make them ill, but inevitably lead to their death. No human medical knowledge can heal the effects from a broken miraculous, because no such human cure or treatment exists to treat such magical side effects.

Now, throughout the series, we have already been subtly hinted of there potentially being numerous sentimonsters in the series, most notably by all the references to feathers, such as the ones we saw in the “Adrien the Fragrance” ad back in ”Gorizilla”, being a clear sign of the various amoks/sentimonsters in the series who were always close to Adrien.

Felix and Adrien were always prime sentimonster suspects for years, but we knew there had to be more, and sure enough, one of the people on that list of potential sentimonsters was narrowed down to Kagami, who not only had a very strict and controlled way of life, but was also among the few with a mom that was close to Gabriel, meaning she to could share in the secret of the peacock miraculous. Confirmation of Kagami being a sentimonster along with Adrien and Felix, was quickly obtained near the end of “Perfection”, when Tomoe revealed that Kagami had an amok in the family ring.

(Tomoe lashed out at Gabriel, after learning he sent a megakuma to Kagami’s ring, if the amok is released, Kagami will disapear. In “Emotion”, Felix further confirmed things, the moment we saw him sense Kagami's amok in her ring.)

But even with knowing now that there were three official sentimonsters in “Emotion” alone, the three being of course, Felix, Adrien and Kagami, we forgot that we don’t actually know the full backstory on how Kagami was created, at least not yet anyway. There is a grim fate to anyone who uses the broken peacock miraculous, so who used it to create Kagami? Tomoe is still alive and healthy, so did someone else create Kagami for Tomoe?

Back in "Riposte", we learn through Adrien’s online search that the Tsurugi's were mainly comprised of a grandfather, Kagami, and Tomoe, but no spouse is talked of. We don’t know much about Tomoe and the rest of the Tsurugi family line just yet, but it wouldn’t be to shocking to know that Tomoe was the last of her families lineage and wanted to have a kid on her own without a spouse. But regardless of what she could have told the public and Kagami to cover up the truth about the peacock miraculous, it feels like there is some darker truth Tomoe has not yet revealed to the audience.

With no one else but a grandfather in her life, Tomoe could have sought the help of her only remaining family to help her by asking him to use the peacock miraculous for her, but considering the circumstances of Kagami’s way of life, Tomoe could have also brought it upon herself to create the “perfect” child she envisioned, a child who would uphold the Tsurugi family name exactly as she wanted. Of course, if Tomoe used the peacock miraculous and is still alive, then there is a possibility she used the peacock miraculous before it was broken.

No matter how far back we trace the peacock miraculous, we know that it was broken when Emelie used it, but we don’t know how it was broken or exactly when. For all we know, the peacock miraculous would have still been completely in tact when it was found along with the butterfly miraculous all those years ago, but was placed into a situation, not long after it was found, which gave it its first crack, and then later forced that small crack to spread, honestly who knows. We know that whoever uses it in its broken state would face the same fate as Emelie, Colt(Felix’s dad), and Nathalie, worst of all, nothing humanly possible could save them once they used its power.

So, if the Tsurugi Grandfather used it to bring Kagami into the world and passed away a few years after that, no one would be suspicious of an elderly man passing on. But if Tomoe was potentially the last person to use the peacock miraculous before it was officially broken, then she must have received some sort of side effect that was not necessarily life threatening, but still very sudden and impactful onto her life none the less, such as loosing her vision. But again, lets just wait and see what the show has to say.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #tales of ladybug and cat noir #thomas astruc #ml s5 spoilers #mlb s5 spoilers #mlb s6 speculation #ml s6 speculation #adrien agreste #ml cat noir #felix graham de vanily #ml argos #Kagami Tsurugi #ml ryuko #gabriel agreste #ml monarch #tomoe tsurugi #ml emotion #ml perfection

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astudyincontrasts · 2 years

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Drabble request:

Not sure why I'm sending this anonymously. You know who this is. Feel free to call me out and tease me mercilessly. Also this was technically your idea, but I demand it (please!) in drabble format.

Sevika loses a bet w/ reader, resulting in Sevika having to don a sexy maid dress while dusting Silco's office (while he's present ofc, because duh!). This may or may not lead to Sevika taking out her anger and embarrassment on reader via sexy times.

Please and thank you! 🖤

I'm dying with joy that I get to do this. Based upon THIS art.

Sevika and reader from @abitohoney 's fic Submit which just updated with Chapter 9 today! (Existing consensual sub/dom relationship, bondage, rough foreplay, spanking)

Sevika x Fem!Reader slightly NSFW

"No."

"Yes!"

"No. Absolutely not. You cheated!" For as long as you'd known her you'd never seen fear touch Sevika's face, never once known those grey eyes of hers to fill with panic like they were in this moment. She was trying to cover it up with her habitual gruffness and rough temper but that façade had slipped and clattered to the floor as those wide pewter eyes flicked from her cards to yours and back again over and over. Willing herself to be having some kind of stroke or delusion.

"Cheated how? I'm naked. You've won every hand. Just not this one." This wasn't exactly the outcome you'd envisioned when you'd suggested the pair of you play strip cards after she'd begrudgingly taught you her favorite game. This was even better.

Sevika stood and for a second you felt sure she was going to kick the chair she'd sat in at the wall. Her panicked rage had you grinning all those perfect, white, Piltover dentistry teeth up at her as you leaned back on the bed, unabashed in all your naked glory, knowing it was just one more twist of the screw. She'd been a single hand of cards away from winning some truly wicked favors from you. And lady luck had instead finally deigned to kiss your cheek instead.

"I am not. I am not doing this." She fumed, staring at you. Delicious, delectable to watch pleading seeping under the bravado of trying to boss her way out of her loss. Like if she couldn't intimidate you out of collecting your due then she might actually be willing to beg. Now that was an interesting notion. Her on her knees for once instead of you. Hm. Nah. You wanted to see this happen. Time to cut your lovely brute down to size a little.

Besides, a touch of humility never hurt anyone. You should know, she'd sure given you a healthy dose or twenty of your own.

"Renegging on a bet?? You know... I heard that's real frowned upon in The Last Drop. I remember the last guy who did that... oh man. What happened to him again? Oh yeah. Lost the use of his left nut. Tch. And now no one will let him in so much as a wager on the weather let alone play cards with him. Given your lack of uh... nuts... and the fact this was a private game I'm sure that the regulars won't try anything drastic. Plus you could take em all anyhow. But. Oh man... Think of the stain on your reputation? Sevika lost fair and square and then she refused to pay up - "

"Enough." Silco's second snapped, throwing up both hands in exasperation. As irritated as ever with your stream of consciousness overflowing its banks. "For the love of Janna, just. Stop talking. I'll do it."

The smile you offered her was sweet as a slice of peach pie as you rocked knees open and closed in a slow butterfly. Just to tease. Then slid to the edge of the bed and began pulling articles of your clothing back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sevika’s boots came to a stop in your line of vision on the floor, the toe of one settling over your discarded pants.

“Getting dressed, duh. You lost sweetheart. Everything. That’s what double or nothing means. Not my fault I didn’t have double the clothes to take off for you. Now.” You gritted teeth and yanked those pants out from under her boot, pitching back on the bed as they finally gave into your hands. “I got a little purchase to make for you.”

The bruiser groaned and dropped back into her seat, elbows upon those thick thighs that you so adored, head in her hands.

For a split second you wanted very badly to take pity on her. To leave off getting dressed and go over, cradle her face up and try, just try to kiss her if she’d let you. Tell her you’d let her slide if she’d only be sweet to you tonight. Nah. You hopped up and into those tight pants, jumping a little for joy and a little to get them over your hips. Pulled on top, grabbed boots, knives and wallet and headed for the door.

“Be back soon!”

She dropped her hands to watch you yank the door open, pause and blow her a kiss. Pale teeth bared in a silent snarl behind those pretty dark lips.

»»————-　♔　————-««

The blessed silence of an uneventful evening had settled over Silco’s office, left him to his work in peace for once. No fires to put out either literal or figurative, no irritating interruptions or minor inconveniences his underlings ought to be able to handle on their own but somehow always needed his attention to resolve.

A forgotten cigar smoldered in the ashtray, nearly an inch and a half of cylindrical ash at the end of it, cherry fitfully ready to extinguish from neglect as the thin wisps of smoke curled upward in pungent incense as his pen scratched away on the paper. The door to the office creaked open and he only cast it a passing glance.

Stopped. Looked up again.

Sevika was edging in the half opened door, acting like she’d use the bulwark of it as a shield for as long as humanly possible before she had to come all the way into the room. It was safe to say in all the time he’d known Sevika - pretty much the entirety of their adult lives at this point - he’d not once, never, known a single moment his second in command had worn a dress.

Let alone one black, exceedingly short, puffy sleeved, frilly with stiff crinoline, cut low in front and...yes. With a little white pinafore apron. Even her dark hair, which he largely suspected she frequently cut herself with a knife slightly too dull to do the job properly, even her hair had been brushed to a high gloss sheen and done back in her habitual half up style with a plush lacy white bow. Muscular legs remarkably handsome in dark stockings with their suspenders peeking out from under crinoline fluff, and the uncomfortable clomp of high heels.

She held a feather duster in one hand with the mien like she’d find a way to make a weapon of it somehow.

Steel grey eyes refused to meet his, trained on the far corner of the room, like she’d just ignore his presence entirely. He knew her better though. And teal eye narrowed as she inevitably snuck a glance at him that quickly flitted away hard and fast. Just enough time to arch one dark brow at her before she shut the door.

His blind reach for the whiskey glass was slow, the kind of unhurried movement one might use in order not to startle a wild animal, and he brought it to his mouth as mismatched gaze tracked her. Noted her resigned sigh before the graceless clomp in those heels toward his chifforobe and bookcases. And she began to dust with that feathered little mop. Dust like she’d prefer to set the whole office on fire instead.

And Silco went silently back to his paperwork. Pen scratching away studiously as she slowly made her way around the room. Dusting. Respectful silence strained to the snapping point until...

“Lost a b-”

“Yes of course I lost a bet.” She cut him off sharply.

Watched his head tilt slightly as he kept eyes on the papers in front of him. Could feel him failing to repress a snide grin she couldn’t see from this angle half behind him. Clomp clomp clomp. The rest of the ‘dusting’ was done in a hateful hurry, practically knocking over a lamp and various other trinkets in her desire to just be done with this humiliation.

To his credit Silco managed to wait until she’d sashayed her clomping way out and shut the door behind her before resting his forehead on fingertips and letting teal eye shut as shoulders lifted in perfectly silent mirth. He had a good inkling exactly who was the winner of this little wager - and good on her. He’d never thought that mouthy little Piltie runt of an assassin would have had in in her... but then again. Well, it was good to know your employees. Have a grasp of their capabilities. He sorted through the pile of books to one side of his desk, pulled a ledger free and flipped it open, made a notation on a page and then flipped it shut. Thought for a second and then opened it again, to a page much closer to the front. Made an entirely different notation on this one and smiled thinly to himself.

Good for her.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Ugh, to have been there! A fly on the wall. That was the only thing you regretted in all this; that you had to satisfy yourself with imagining exactly what was going down in Silco’s office right now. Sevika would never give you the scoop on what went down and you certainly would never ask the boss how he liked having his office cleaned as a result of your little bet.

So you lay back on your bed, hands laced behind your head, one leg propped and bouncing on the bent up knee of the other, grinning like an idiot at the ceiling as you enjoyed each possible scenario that could be happening. Except for the ones where your little prank got Sevika fired. Silco may be a terrifying, violently tempered bastard but you’d seen and heard enough to know the boss also had a rather surprising wicked sense of humor, particularly when it came to the humiliation of others. Besides, Sevika was his right hand and he was no fool. She’d be fine.

Your door opened and slammed shut, jerking you out of your happy reverie with a little jump to find Sevika glowering at you, stance spread, feather duster gripped like a knife, expression black as a thundercloud.

She kicked her heels across the room hard enough they left twin little dents in the wall.

Hands slid from behind your head as you propped yourself up on elbows and offered her your biggest, shit-eatingest grin. She pointed the feather duster at you, sterling eyes narrowed sharply.

“Not one bloody word.”

“How’d it go?” You ignored her command delightedly. Had her snarling and advancing on you.

You scrambled, trying to get off the bed and make a break for it. Yelping as she got hold of your ankle and dragged you back, flipped you on your stomach and pinned you down, one knee to the small of your back.

“How’d it go?” She mimicked you with a high little irritating voice, and you could feel her shifting over you as you struggled, weight pressing you ever harder into the mattress. A second later that white pinafore and its long ribbons were winding around your wrists and then looping them together to the headboard, punishingly tight.

“You have any idea how long it took me to build the reputation I have in this organization? How much shit I have to take on a daily basis? No of course you don’t little brat. All you do is run that mouth of yours and occasionally get real stabby when Silco needs someone killed quick and doesn’t care how messy it is.”

“Hey now-!” Look she could be mad, but you were good at your job too.

Sevika’s mouth was next to your ear in a heartbeat and she had it in her teeth. Crushing the tender shell of it, tugging like she’d bite it off.

“If you’re smart, princess, you’ll shut the hell up. Right now.” She snarled, never once releasing that bite until you whimpered a mute agreement, unable to even nod with the grip her teeth had. They released and you gasped against the flooding fire of delicious pain left behind.

The weight of her knee left the small of your back and you could hear the snap of suspenders as she yanked stockings off, only to use each one to tie round an ankle of yours and lash them to the foot of the bed, spread eagle lower half.

Only then she got up off the bed and shed the rest of that silly maid outfit, had you groaning as she flung it on the floor. She really had looked adorable in it. Just... the kind of adorable of an apex predator in pink bows. Deadly cute. The open flat of her hand caught the curve of your ass a sharp slap. Hard and sudden enough to have you nearly swallow your tongue, and thank fuck it wasn’t her prosthetic hand she’d chosen to spank you with.

You’d elected to await her return in the cheekiest pair of simple black underwear you had and your usual dark shirt. No bra. Comfy. Unfortunately also excellent target practice for that open palm of hers as she took the edge off by absolutely whaling your backside until you were struggling to escape each new slap, skin hot fire gone from pink to hot flush red you could feel. Bottom on absolute fire. Her final slap had tears stinging your eyes as you writhed forward with a keening little strangled noise.

“Don’t go soft on me, princess.” She murmured overhead, hand reaching to take a generous grasp of one burning cheek and kneed the sting of it slowly. Damn you, you lifted into it, trying to peek over a shoulder at her, caught her smiling darkly and knew you were well and truly fucked. Still, unwilling to break that command not to speak. You liked having two ears, thanks.

“You aren’t getting off easy this time.”

The bed dented on either side of you as Sevika settled weight on her knees straddled over you, metallic fist landing in the soft of the mattress beside your face. Had you blinking at the dangerous machinations and soft whirring clockworkings of it even as you felt her other hand slide under you, up under your shirt. And the second she got a cup of one bare breast you shuddered, arched up as best you could, silly thing, to give her more space.

Only to be rewarded with an agonizing twisting pinch of one tender nipple that had your mouth dropping open and a shudder wringing through you from tip to toes. Her rich voice chuckled softly overhead before her mouth pressed between your shoulder blades over the runched up fabric of your shirt. Fingers merciless. Tugging, teasing, the little bite of her thumbnail digging into that singing, sensitive nub. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, hips bucking against the bed, feet kicking against the soft give of the stocking restraints. None of it stilled that delicious torment.

“Hope you had time to rest up while I was out embarrassing myself, princess.” The press of her mouth strayed up to the nape of your neck, breath a wash over skin before she sunk possessive teeth in slow, like she’d scruff you no different than a big cat with prey. “You’ll have no sleep tonight.”

#sevika #drabble #drabble request #crack drabble #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fic #arcane drabble #sevika drabble #sevika crack fic

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