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kabuki-writes · 3 months ago

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The Laugh of Nero

chapter: 4 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 5

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: General Acacius faces the consequences of his conspiracy, while his daughter unexpectedly meets Emperor Caracalla alone for the first time.

Note: -

word count: 3.6k

Romans loved the story of old philosopher Seneca. He was once the teacher of Emperor Nero almost 200 years ago and although body was dead, his life continued through writings: one of it being the drama 'Octavia'. It was a popular play in the amphitheaters of Ancient Rome and beyond. And it was a favorite of yours.

The plot focused on three days during which the Emperor divorced and exiled his wife Claudia Octavia and married another, his lover Poppaea Sabina. It was indeed a tragedy, that gave the audience a glimpse into the madness of Nero, the wisdom of Seneca and the tragedy of Octavia. Oh how you could relate to Octavia. The divergence between her fear, hatred and sadness against her will to withstand and be wiser than what was thrown against her, it intrigued you. Somehow you felt the same in your current situation. On the one handside you feared the future and displeased the attention of the Emperors on you, yet you wanted to do everything to persevere. In a way, the stoic nature of Seneca's character in this play gave you some kind of guidance too. Stoicism, maybe you needed to stick to that even more as you were not able to control your surroundings as it seemed?

You took your seat in the upper-ranks of the amphitheater, accompanied by two of your closest friends. Cicero was one of the grandsons of senator Gracchus and now served as one of the senate’s transcriptors for as long as he was not old enough to candidate for a political mandate himself. The other one was Lydia, the daughter of General Britannicus, who fought alongside your father countless of times and was now fighting with his legions in the far north of the Empire. "Oh, i hope Scato is going to play Octavia this time! The last time i saw him in the role of Electra - it was just mesmerizing. He is just so handsome", Lydia sighed, as she always seemed to be that actor's number one supporter. You and Cicero laughed in response before you gave your friend a small pat on the shoulder. "I already heard that you approached him after the last play. Beware actors, Lydia. They might be charming, but they're also free spirits," you explained with a smirk on your lips, before Cicero added. "Oh everyone would run, when they hear about her father."

"Come on! Stop it! I am just daydreaming! I know he will never let me spend time with someone that isn't a boring military officer!" Lydia turned her face away because she turned completely red, but as she did, she noticed the black armory of the Praetorian guards, who escorted one of the Emperors to the royal box of the Amphitheater. "y/n, Cicero, look!"

You quickly turned your eyes to the scene and your face went pale in an instant, when you saw the luxurious decorated robe, the blonde-ginger hair and the golden laurel wreath. That profile, the curved nose and the make up... you instantly noticed, which brother was here to witness the play of 'Octavia'.

Nero.

In that very moment, he turned his head in an attempt to take a look at the crowd and you tried your best to keep your head low, while your sight was locked to the stage in front of you.

"Is everything alright, y/n?", Cicero asked irritated, while he tried to make sense of your sudden change of behavior.

"Yes, yes i just... i've never seen Emperor Caracalla here."

"Really? He comes to the theater quite often to watch plays", Lydia managed to say, before the crowd slowly fell silent as the first actor slowly walked on stage. The young woman next to you blushed and you could feel Lydia's hand clinging on your arm as if she needed something to hold on - the actor was indeed Scato and the costume he wore was 'Octavia' - a flowing robe with a long, curled wig and extravagant make-up that captured the sadness of her character perfectly.

But you couldn't really focus. Your eyes went to the royal box, the best place to watch the play in a comfortable isolation from the rest of the spectators. Here he sat, accompanied by an entourage of 'friends' and a little monkey which sat on his lap. Suddenly his eyes went from the stage over the crowd and suddenly, he saw you. Your heart sunk to your feet and you instantly turned back to the stage to witness Scato's monologue. He had seen you... and what you were not able to witness now was how he turned to one of his Praetorian Guards, to which he whispered an order.

You tried to keep calm as you stared at the stage, where Octavia was now accompanied by a chorus, who wept for the terrible treason she had to endure when Nero decided to take another woman as his wife. Meanwhile your fingers clinged into the fabric of your toga-styled dress as you gathered your thoughts. You still recalled the words you'd talked with him at the Collosseum - the way you had his attention. Women would kill for what you were able to get if you just continue - but then you heard the words of your father, you saw his worried eyes in front of you and you knew something was terribly wrong.

You were so encaptured in your own thoughts that Lydia grabbed your arm again, but this time it was not because she was about to fall for the man on stage, but because a Praetorian Guard was standing right at the side of your seats and pointed at you. "You. Follow me," he ordered in a very demanding tone, while your friends looked at you in shock. They didn't know what you'd witnessed before, so you grabbed their hands and just gave them an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about me, we see each other soon, alright?", you whispered before you stood up and followed the guard upstairs to the place where Emperor Caracalla had his seat.

_________________________________

"y/n, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here! Please, take a seat!", you heard the voice of Emperor Caracalla as you stepped into the royal box of the amphitheater and bowed to him.

"Leave us, Go!", he hissed quickly to his entourage, who - without a word - got up from their seats and left as quickly as they could, but not without giving you a two-faced look. It was almost as if they already knew something you didn't, as if they both pitied and envied you at the same time. You hold their glances to not give in to any mockery they might've had in their minds and would speak out to each other when they were gone. Then it was only you and the young Emperor,... and his pet monkey, which was seemingly busy eating grapes from a bowl of fruit.

With slow, careful movements you approached the seats in the front and sat down beside Caracalla, his eyes never leaving you as you did. "A funny coincidence, is it not? I remember that we talked about 'Octavia' and here we are now", he chuckled, while he leaned back and for a moment, he watched the stage, where Seneca approached Nero about the divorce of his first wife.

"A coincidence, indeed", you answered and followed his glance. There he was, the mad Emperor, who complained about the unfair treatment of him through his own mother, which he cursed over and over again. At that point she was already dead - believed to be murdered by an order of Nero himself.

"You haven't fully answered me back then, when i asked why you see yourself as Nero". The question came from your mouth while you still followed the actor's movements in his luxurious decorated robes, a red wig on his head - it somehow reminded you of Caracalla.

"The play is written to portray him as a monster, am i sitting next to one?"

Maybe it was almost too bold to ask that. You already regretted speaking those words out loud, when his view instantly switched to you, his blue eyes digging into you like a sharp blade. Suddenly, he simply burst into a resounding laughter, that made your lose your breath for a moment, as you stared at him with irritation.

"Gods, you're really amusing", Caracalla grinned wide, showing off his gold tooth. Nonetheless he gave you an answer. "It depends..."

He raised his hand and let his little monkey climb on it. When he reached his shoulder, Caracalla took a grape and fed it to the animal, before it started to groom his wild hair. Not caring about it, he continued. "Everyone views Nero as mad for breaking the chains that his mother and his predecessor layed on him. He never loved Octavia, yet he had to marry her. He never wanted to be Emperor, yet he became one. His mother tried to control him, so much so, that he needed to get rid of this old hag." The last words were almost a hissing tone, as if he was speaking of something he could truly relate to.

"Now everyone is plotting against him, the Gods, his damned first wife, his teacher, all of Rome, only because he started to follow his own path and married the woman he loved. A tragedy, truly - not just for Octavia, don't you think?"

He looked straight into your eyes, waiting for your answer and you sensed that this was a key moment, where you could say something wrong. In a way, you could see what he meant, but there was something he didn't see. Nero broke the chains, yes, but he broke them with cruelty, murder and terror.

"Isn't everything in our lives a tragedy?", you asked and it seemed to please Caracalla, as his bright grin returned, before he turned to the stage once more, crawling his pet monkey while he followed the next scene.

Oh how he could relate to those words. No one could understand the tragedy of his own life, always being seen as the underestimated, 'weaker' and younger brother. But he enjoyed this talk more than he was willing to admit. And he was sure that you were able to understand him to a certain degree, the first woman to do so.

Suddenly, his pet jumped over to you, climbing onto your shoulder and taking a strain of hair to look at your curls.

"Dondus, no! Don't hurt the fair lady!" In an instant, Caracalla jumped from his seat, but before he tried to take the monkey again, he noticed your sudden yet beautiful laugh and how you reached out to pat Dondus carefully, softly, with your filigran fingers. How he wished that those fingers would touch him in that very moment, while his hands stiffened.

"It is fine, please - don't worry", you said quickly, since the monkey didn't hurt you in any way - in fact the way he climbed on your shoulders, touched your hair with his tiny fingers and groomed them with interest in his dark eyes, was very cute. And your reaction was honest.

"I think, he likes you", Caracalla mumbled, while he returned to his seat, still watching you how gentle you were with Dondus, one of his only 'real friends'. It was his own pet, his alone and caring for him often calmed his mind. Just as you did in this very moment since no word came from his mouth - he just watched. Why, just why does he have to share you with Geta soon...

Slowly he reached for his cup of wine and poured it down in an attempt to numb his thoughts over this damn fact.

"You said you see yourself in Octavia, but you could be Poppaea", he whispered, his eyes locked on yours.

"I could be," you responded, the focus laying on 'could', while you were still playing with the little monkey. In a way you started to find your path in this game. "Either way my fate would end in death then."

Caracalla laughed boisterous once again in response to your words, while he raised his cup. "And yet you would live in delight instead of agony. Let us toast to the inevitable death of us all". You took your cup and followed his toast.

"To the tragedy of us all." As you drank a first sip of your wine, you still saw how he looked you straight into the eyes. It was clear that he just waited for the next chance to say something and this time he was closer than before, leaning over the armrest of his throne. The Emperor was close enough for you to smell the scent of his perfumes and the wine on him.

"I just know we will have a lot of fun, once we see each other more often," he chuckled. His words hit you, but you tried your best not to drop your mask of neutrality. You'd almost began to enjoy this conversation up to this point. What did he mean by that?

Should you ask? No, it would be terribly impolite to question something like that in the presence of an Emperor. Only your lips parted, while you searched for your next words. Caracalla was the one to grin again, his gold tooth shimmering in the lights that came from the stage of the theater. And his next words rang through your ears like a bell.

"Don't forget to thank your dear father, once you're back home."

_________________________________

Marcus Acacius walked through the hallways of the Imperial Palace, escorted by the Praetorian Guard. He was not in chains, but wore his dark brown leather armor with the wine red whool cloak and his helmet under his arm - the armor of a General. In fact, he didn't really know why he was even here in the first place. It was quite early for a new war campaign, but he stopped to question them long ago anyways. It wouldn't be a surprise, if the Emperors had already found a new target for their obsession. The mere hunger for expansion was enough to never satisfy both Geta and Caracalla, who simply took military like Acacius and moved them on a map as if they were simple toy figures. The glory of Rome was what they promised the people, yet all the older man had seen was death and despair over and over again - even though he always came back with a victory laurel wreath on his head. What an irony.

The fact that everything was like the last times he was called to the palace, made him unobservant to the fact that he was walking straight into a trap. He was sure that his secret was still a secret - that he and the senators were safe in a way. Maybe safe enough to carry out their plan once the time was ready for it. How wrong he was on this...

When he stepped into the throne room, the guards behind him closed the door and he greeted Emperor Geta according to the protocol in situations like these. "My Emperor", he said with his fist on his chest and his eyes locked on the young man, who stood in front of one of the two elaborately designed thrones, which were placed on a platform at the center of the room.

"General Acacius! It is good to see you again. Come forward...," Geta called and his waving hand was a signal for him to move, to come closer. As he did, Marcus noticed that the other twin was missing, but this wasn't a surprise too since Caracalla was often 'occupied' with other things. In reality, he simply hated politics and rather threw himself into diffent forms of pleasure in an attempt to escape the stuffiness.

They were not alone, a couple of Praetorian guards stood at their distinct positions as they always did and therefore the general simply ignored them.

Meanwhile Geta had to force himself to keep a straight face, when the traitor approached him as if nothing happened at all, as if he was not about to put a sword into his neck with those filthy senators - just as Julius Caesar got betrayed by his kin and the senate as well. The young Emperor would not let this happen again.

"Tell me, General, why did i call for you?"

Acacius brows furrowed, while he looked to the map table, which was standing alone in front of the great window. It was untouched.

"I thought you might answer me that, your Grace. The last time we talked, you granted me a pause before i will regroup my legions in Ostia and start the next campaign in Numidia."

Geta's laughter filled the room in response to the General's words and it took him even more strength to not scream at him.

"Oh, don't worry, Acacius. This plan hasn't changed yet."

Yet. A feeling of unease creeped up his body, as he stood still, his eyes locked on the pale, gingerblonde royal, who stood in front of him in a toga of black and gold.

"But let us be honest now, shall we? I question your loyality to me and my brother, to Rome. As i know, you're meeting with members of the senate," Geta called out and even though this was true, Acacius kept a straight face, hiding his fear in trained perfection.

"As you know, my dear wife is the daughter of senator Galba. Is it now regarded as treason to meet with my father-in-law?"

Geta stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Acacius in an instant, while his jaw clenched in anger. His mind was like a volcano, ready to erupt at any second.

"Do you think we're fools!?", he hissed with an even more aggressive undertone that grew louder with each word. Marcus had to tackle the urge to say 'Yes', in fact there was even so much more he wanted to say right now. That they were tyrants, mad, arrogant and overall spoiled little brats, which he cursed at every given second of his life.

"We know what you're up to Acacius - a snake amongst the men we regarded as the most loyal to our father and to us. How dare you turn against us and plot with those maggots from the senate, even though you've seen that they were not able to rule an Empire for yourself! Have you no respect for Emperor Septimius Severus, who gave you all what you're now!?"

It was too late, he obviously knew. And Acacius was not even able to put in words how much he hated himself for not being able to keep it as a secret long enough. It not only put his own life in danger but the rest of his family too, his wife... his daughter. His jaw clenched at the mere thought of the consequences that might errupt in the aftermath of this audience. Yet he couldn't hold back what was laying under his tongue for so long: "You father still holds my greatest respect and loyalty even after his passing... may the gods grant him peace in elysium. But i've seen your shortcomings many, many times. You lack the wisdom and restraint he had, yes maybe even the love he had for Rome and its people. You and your brother are not worthy of the crowns he placed upon your heads."

Geta's eye twitched and he grabbed a dagger, placing it right in front of Acacius' throat. His whole body trembled in pure wrath at the audacity of that General's words.

"I should kill you now Acacius! I should kill you and all those filthy senators for that treason!", he screamed at him, while his opponent only responded with a cold and collected gaze. This look alone made him Geta even more aggressive and hateful towards Marcus, but killing him would only create another problem - so he went with the path he had already planned in his mind.

"My brother was right, you are a Brutus. But we're not Julius Caesar", Geta hissed against Acacius, leaning his head to the side for a moment, as he studied his stern facial expression. Oh how much he hated it that he didn't fear him. The Emperor wanted to change that.

"We should start all over again, shall we? As a hero of Rome, the people won't be pleased with you being crucified publically... But we can still kill your wife... your daughter?", he started and noticed how - even for a second - the corners of Acacius' mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say something against this. Now there was fear, something Acacius tried desperately not to show, but Geta still noticed.

A wide, knowing smile appeared on his face and he nodded in silent agreement. "Ah, now you see the consequences. Yes, i am not above killing you kin and let you watch... but it would be such a shame, such a waste... especially for your beautiful daughter. I wonder how you will explain to her, that you threw her young life away because of your pride"

The blade of his dagger was dangerously close as the tip touched his skin at his neck, while Acacius stood in an almost frozen position.

"I have a proposal for you, Acacius...it is the only option to safe your own life and the ones of those you love the most - wed your daughter to me."

Geta's word hit Marcus like a lightning bolt. His eyes widened in response to the request of the Emperor in front of him. And his heart broke in that very moment.

"I will not sell out my daughter like this", he answered with a firm tone in his voice, but Geta only smirked and leaned forward, whispering in his ear with an amused undertone. He knew that Marcus wasn't able to say 'No' in any way. He loved his daughter too much to watch her die.

"One option, General. She either becomes my wife - and i will make her Empress of Rome. Or she will be crucified alongside your pathetic senators..."

He would always choose her life, but at what cost.

_________________________________

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#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #general acacius #geta x reader #caracalla x reader #joseph quinn #pedro pascal #fred hechinger #gladiator ii fic #kabuki writes

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seoulzie · 8 months ago

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10 things i love about you

WHEREIN: yeonjun is used to having girls swoon over him daily. however, he's set his sights on you, the one person who seems completely uninterested in his charms.

彡 paring: jock!yeonjun x reader 彡 genre: fluff 彡 warnings: none! :)

₊˚🏒 read the whole collection here!

yeonjun was the undisputed king of the campus. with his smile, athletic prowess, and a legion of admirers, he was used to getting what he wanted. however, the one thing he wanted most was the one thing he couldn't seem to have—you.

it all started when he noticed you in the library, quietly reading a book while the world buzzed around you. unlike the other girls who sought his attention, you seemed completely uninterested in him. this intrigued him more than anything.

one afternoon, as he and his friends lounged in the cafeteria, they teased him about his latest crush. "i bet you can't even get her to look at you," one of them jeered. never one to back down from a challenge, yeonjun grinned. "watch me," he declared confidently.

determined to make a connection, yeonjun approached you. you were sitting under a tree, engrossed in a novel, completely oblivious to the commotion around you. gathering his confidence, he strode over and cleared his throat.

"hey there," he began, flashing his signature smile. "whatcha reading?"

you glanced up briefly, your expression unreadable. "a book," you replied curtly before returning your attention to the pages.

yeonjun blinked, slightly taken aback by your indifference. he wasn't used to being brushed off so easily. "mind if i sit?" he asked, undeterred.

you shrugged, not bothering to look up. "it's a free country."

he sat down, trying to think of a way to engage you. "so, do you come here often?" he ventured, inwardly cringing at how cliché it sounded.

you finally looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "is that your best line?" you asked dryly.

yeonjun chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "okay, that was pretty lame. let me try again. i'm yeonjun, by the way."

"yeah, i know who you are," you said, turning back to your book. "everyone does."

there was a long pause as yeonjun searched for something, anything, to keep the conversation going. "what's your name?" he asked, hoping to at least learn something about you.

you sighed, clearly exasperated. "look, yeonjun, i'm sure you're a nice guy, but i'm really not interested in whatever game you're playing."

"it's not a game," he insisted, leaning forward earnestly. "i just... i want to get to know you."

"why?" you asked, your eyes meeting his with a challenge.

"because you're pretty," he said smugly.

for a moment, something flickered in your eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "thanks for the compliment, but i prefer to be alone," you said, closing your book and standing up. "see you around, yeonjun."

as you walked away, yeonjun watched, feeling a mix of frustration and admiration. you were proving to be a tougher nut to crack than he had anticipated, but he wasn't giving up that easily.

"challenge accepted," he muttered to himself, a determined smile playing on his lips.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

the next day, he "accidentally" bumped into you in the hallway, flashing his signature charming smile as he helped you pick up your books. you thanked him politely but remained aloof, much to his frustration. he decided to up his game.

in an attempt to spend more time with you, yeonjun convinced a mutual friend to invite you to a study group.

during the session, yeonjun tried to impress you with his knowledge and wit. he explained a complex theory, using grand gestures and confident tones.

"...and that's why the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell," he concluded, flashing a triumphant smile.

you raised an eyebrow. "actually, that's a bit of an oversimplification. the mitochondria do produce energy, but they also have roles in signaling, and cellular differentiation among other things."

yeonjun blinked, surprised. "oh, uh, right. of course."

"you should really read up more on cellular biology," you added with a hint of a smirk. "it's quite fascinating."

he chuckled, genuinely amused and impressed by your knowledge. "you got me there. i'll make sure to do that."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

one afternoon, you sat together on the quad, books spread out around you. yeonjun was explaining a concept from your history class, but you were only half-listening, distracted by the way his eyes lit up when he spoke.

"you know, you're pretty good at this," you said, interrupting him.

he looked at you, slightly taken aback. "at what?"

"at making things interesting," you replied. "history's never been my favorite subject, but you make it sound... exciting."

yeonjun laughed, a warm, genuine sound. "well, that's a first. most people think i'm just good for sports and parties."

you shook your head, smiling. "you're a lot more than that, yeonjun. i'm glad i got to know you."

he grinned, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "i'm glad i got to know you too. you're... different from anyone i've ever met."

there was a comfortable silence between you, filled with unspoken thoughts and feelings. you realized that you were starting to see yeonjun in a new light. he wasn't just a pretty boy jock; he was someone you genuinely cared about.

but why did you want something more? why did your heart race when he looked at you? why did you feel a pang of longing when he wasn't around?

you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself that you were just friends. yet, deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that you wanted something more, something deeper.

as you looked into yeonjun's eyes, you wondered if he felt the same way.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

a few days later, you were walking through the halls, your mind drifting to thoughts of yeonjun and your recent interactions. you were starting to enjoy his company more and more, and the line between friendship and something more was beginning to blur.

as you turned a corner, you overheard yeonjun and his friends talking. they hadn't noticed you yet, so you paused, curiosity getting the better of you.

"damn, i didn't know you could actually get her to talk to you," one of his friends said, clapping yeonjun on the back.

"yeah, i thought she was a lost cause," another chimed in, laughing.

yeonjun shrugged, a small smile on his lips. "she's different, you know? it just took a bit of effort."

"so, what now?" a third friend asked. "you gonna keep trying or is this just for fun?"

your heart sank at their words. were you just a bet to him? just another challenge for the campus heartthrob to conquer? the thought stung, and you felt a wave of hurt and anger wash over you.

you turned on your heel and walked away quickly, not wanting to hear any more. as you rounded the next corner, tears pricked at your eyes. you had started to trust yeonjun, to let him in, and now it felt like it had all been a lie.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yeonjun noticed immediately that you had become distant. your texts became curt, and you avoided him in the hallways. confused and worried, he decided to confront you after school.

he found you sitting under the tree where you usually read, your expression closed off. "hey," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "you've been avoiding me. did i do something wrong?"

you took a deep breath, your heart aching. "i overheard your friends talking in the hallway," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "they said... they said you were just trying to get me to talk to you as a bet. is that true?"

yeonjun's eyes widened

yeonjun sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "no, it's not true," he said firmly, meeting your gaze with sincerity. "i never saw you as a bet, or a challenge. from the moment i noticed you, i... i wanted to get to know you. i wanted to understand why you were different from everyone else who surrounds me every day."

you studied him for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. his gaze was unwavering, his expression earnest. slowly, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you.

"why didn't you say anything?" you asked softly, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

yeonjun looked down, his shoulders slumping slightly. "i didn't know how," he admitted quietly. "i wanted to prove myself to you, to show you that i'm not just some shallow jock. but i guess i went about it the wrong way."

you felt torn. part of you wanted to believe him, to trust that his feelings were genuine. but another part of you feared getting hurt, feared that this was all just a misunderstanding. you looked away, unsure of what to say next.

"i love the way you get lost in your books," he began, his voice steady despite his nervousness. "i love how you stand up for what you believe in, even if it means standing alone. i love how you make me want to be a better person."

your heart pounding. "did you really mean all of that?" you asked softly.

"every word," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.

"okay," you said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "okay, let's give this a chance."

a relieved smile spread across yeonjun's face, his eyes shining with gratitude and hope. "thank you," he murmured.

in that moment, the distance between you disappeared. yeonjun's lips met yours in a tender kiss, a silent promise of honesty and devotion. it was a kiss that spoke of newfound understanding, of forgiveness given and accepted, of hope for what the future held.

as you rested your head against his shoulder, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. maybe this wasn't the ending you had expected, but it was a beginning. a beginning of something real, something sincere, something that had the potential to grow into so much more.

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bcmbiquinn · 2 months ago

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BURNING FLAMES

Summary: Emperor Geta, known for his cruelty and cunning, rules with an iron fist, determined to leave a legacy of strength and dominance had fallen in love with a young servant, who’d turned his entire world upside down.

Pairing: Emperor Geta | fem!reader

w/c: 2.6k

Content warning: Smut +18, minors dni.

Credits for divider: @fanguro @aquazero

The grand halls of the Palatine Palace were always a hive of activity, filled with the soft rustle of robes, the echo of sandals on marble, and the murmurs of servants carrying out their duties. Emperor Geta, draped in a deep crimson toga, stalked through the corridors like a lion surveying its domain. He thrived on control, on the fear he commanded with a single glance

One afternoon in the marble halls of the palace, Emperor Geta strode through his domain. His eyes dark as obsidian swept over the bowing servants with cold indifference. At twenty three he had already earned a reputation for ruthlessness and cruelty that could make any man shake in fear in just his presence.

As he kept walking, he noticed you.

You stood among the other servants, your head bowed like the rest of them, but something about you caught his attention. Perhaps it was the way your dark curls fell down on your shoulders or how your hands, though roughened by work, moved with unexpected grace fixing your tunic.

Geta found himself slowing his pace, an action that confused his guards. The emperor never slowed for anyone

“You.” He said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. “Look at me”

You raised your eyes and Geta's world seemed to stop, feeling an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. Your eyes were the colour of amber honey, and though fear flickered in their depths, there was something else there, a quiet strength and magic that both intrigued and unsettled him.

“Your name.” he demanded.

“y/n, dominus.” You answered, your voice steady despite your obvious trepidation.

Geta looked down and up at you, wondering what it was you had that had captivated him so deeply. As his heart started racing, he walked away, anger building within, how dare you, a servant, make him feel this way? At the mercy of his most primal desires.

One evening as you were arranging fresh flowers in a golden vase, a guard approached you, the emperor demanded your presence at his chambers. You felt your heart dropped, all possible scenarios running through your mind. Have you done something wrong? Did you forget to pour wine in his goblet? Did you dare to look at him wrongly?

You shake your head trying to appease your thoughts, you look up at the guard and nodded . He turned around and you followed him to the emperor’s chambers.

In the dim flicker of oil lamps, Geta stood rigid at the marble balcony overlooking Rome. His hands gripped the stoned edge tightly, his jaw clenched, as he could crush the feelings threatening to spill forth.

As you walked inside the chamber, Geta turned slightly, the full moon highlighted his strong features.

“You summoned me, dominus?” Your soft voice broke the silence.

He turned, his dark eyes narrowing as they landed on you. You bowed your head, not daring to defy him and look at him. He walked toward you, staring deep into your soul, he looked at how you were dressed in a plain tunic that clung to your slender form, your dark curls falling down your shoulders. You were no noblewoman, no consort of rank yet you stirred something within him that no legion or conquest ever had.

“Yes” he said, his voice sharper than intended. He cleared his throat. “Pour the wine.”

Obediently, you crossed the room, your steps light but deliberate. He watched you, his eyes betraying a hunger he despised in himself. He was Geta, ruler of Rome, a man feared and revered in equal measure. And yet, in your presence, he felt disarmed, weak and out of control. He got close to you, his tall frame hovering over you, his hand gently grabbed your waist and you felt your body tense at his touch, his left hand started caressing you hair as his mouth got close to your ear.

“Do you know?” He began, his tone almost casual. “What would they do if they saw us together like this?”

Your body tensed, your eyes looked at the darkness of a corner. “They would condemn us both, dominus.”

His lips twisted in a bitter smile “Condemn me? No. They would whisper in the shadows plotting my downfall, but none would dare to challenge me. You however” He stepped closer, his hand now resting on your him. His voice dropping. “They would make an example of you. A lesson in obedience and the price of overstepping one’s station.”

You could feel your heart beat fast as if it were to come out of your chest but you couldn’t deny the adrenaline and desire you felt by having Geta so close to you. It was wrong, so incredibly wrong.

Your gaze met his, unwavering “You summoned me, dominus.”

For a moment, the air between you crackled with unspoken tension. Geta closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin upward. You looked at him, directly at his eyes, you could feel fear, desire, shame running through your body but you did not pull away.

“You bewitched me, y/n” he murmured. “And I hate you for it”

In the days that followed, Geta found himself creating reasons to pass through the eastern corridor where you worked. He told himself it was mere curiosity, the same way one might be drawn to examine an unusual butterfly before crushing it.

He watched how you moved among the other servants, quiet and gracefully. You weren’t like the other servants, who scurried away like frightened mice whenever he appeared.

One evening, as the setting sun painted the palace walls in shades of gold and crimson, Geta dismissed his guards and approached you alone.

“Come to my private gardens tonight” He commanded. “After the evening meal.”

It wasn’t a request and you knew it.

Later that evening, after you finished your meal, you walked rather slowly throughout the corridors of the palace. Your hands shaking and your heart racing. Although you felt fear deep in your bones, you couldn’t deny the excitement building up in your heart just by thinking of being alone with Geta, in this very moment as strange as it was, nothing else mattered to you.

The imperial gardens were Geta’s sanctuary, a place he could escape from his role as emperor. As he waited beneath a blooming cherry tree, he questioned his own sanity. He was emperor of Rome, descendant of gods, what was he doing, meeting a servant in secret like a lovesick boy?

When you appeared, in your plain tunic, messy hair from all the work you’ve done during the day, Geta forgot all his doubts, he saw you moving like a spirit through the moonlit garden, how dare you be so beautiful, so breathtaking?

“You came.” He said, surprised by the softness in his own voice.

“You commanded it, dominus.”

“Geta.” He corrected you. “Here in this garden, I am just Geta.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but then nodded. “As you wish…Geta.”

You talked through the night, and Geta discovered a mind as beautiful as your face. You spoke of your childhood in a small village, of your dreams of seeing the great library of Alexandria, of your love for poetry. You asked him questions no one had dared to ask before, about his thoughts, his hopes, his burdens.

For the first time in his life, Geta felt seen not as an emperor, but as a man.

Your secret meetings continued, and with each passing night, Geta felt the walls he had built around his heart crumbling. During the day, he maintained his fearsome reputation, perhaps becoming even more brutal to compensate for the softness he felt in private.

But in the gardens, with you, he was different. He learned to laugh again, to speak of things beyond power and conquest. He shared with you the weight of his position, the constant fear of betrayal, the loneliness of absolute power.

"Sometimes I wonder," he confessed one night, his head in your lap as you stroked his hair, "if I am becoming the monster they all believe me to be."

Your hand stilled. "We all choose who we become, Geta. Even emperors."

Your words haunted him, especially during the day when he sat upon his throne, passing judgment on those who had crossed him. But nothing could be changed, he knew it and that’s why he found such a beautiful freedom with you, freedom that to him borderlines with madness.

One night, you were walking through the corridors of the palace after Geta summoned you again in his chambers, as you walked in you saw him standing at the balcony looking at Rome. You made your way throughout the room towards a small table where his goblet was and you poured some wine. Geta turned and his gaze lingered on you, admiring the way your hair fell in loose waves, the gentle curve of your neck, the quiet strength in your posture. He found himself wanting more of this subtle beauty.

“Leave the wine.” He said finally. “I have other matters to discuss with you.” He waved a hand dismissively at the empty plates and cups. He walked toward you, his movements fluid and purposeful, he close the distance between you, until you stood mere inches apart.

His hand cupped gently your cheek and looked at you with adoringly eyes.

“Tell me, my love what is it that you desire?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as Geta’s touch ignited a fire within you.

“To be free.” You whispered, the words barely audible. “To be free to love you.”

Geta felt his heart filled with a warmth he had never felt before, he pulled you close to him, holding you tight in his strong arms as if you were to disappear in front of him.

“If this is a dream.” He murmured, almost to himself. “I pray the gods grant me the mercy of never waking.”

You closed your arms around tightly, feeling his warmth covering your body, your heart felt full, complete in his arms, you didn’t want to let go of him, ever.

“I have lived so long in the shadows of my own making, convinced that I was destined to walk this path alone. But you… you bring light to the darkest corners of my soul” He confessed.

You looked up at him and gently caressed his cheek, Geta closed his eyes at your touch.

“Geta my love, you are not alone, not anymore, you’ve got me, all of me, my love, my soul.”

“You’re too kind, too good.” He murmurs. “I don’t deserve your love, your compassion. But gods help me, I crave it like a starved man.”

His hands started gently caressing your arms, his right hand reached out to tilt your chin upward and then kissed you, his lips felt soft and warm. He kissed with such gentleness as if you were to break if he dared to kiss you harder.

His hand slipped beneath your tunic, fingers brushing against the smooth skin of your thigh, inching higher towards the heat of your core. You gasped as Geta's fingers grazed the edge of your undergarments, the intimate contact sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your legs trembled, threatening to give way, but he locked his arms around your waist, anchoring you to himself.

“What we’re doing is so wrong, so very wrong…” you said softly against his lips. “But gods above, Geta... I can't resist you. Not when you touch me like this, when your words make me feel like the most desirable woman in the empire."

Geta lifted you in his arms and laid you down on the bed, his fingers danced along the lace trim of your undergarments, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. He reveled in your conflicted responses, the way your body yielded to his, despite your feeble attempts at resistance.

“My dearest, you are the most beautiful creature in this world.” He said and kissed you again.

With a deft motion, he pushed your undergarments aside, exposing your slick, swollen folds to his probing fingers. A strangled moan escaped your lips as Geta's fingers delved into your dripping heat, stroking and curling inside you in a way that made stars burst behind your eyelids. Your head fell back, exposing the column of your throat, as waves of pleasure crashed over you

He got closer to you and undressed you, your tunic fell on the floor and then he took down your subligacalum. He admired the beauty of your naked body, a true daughter of Venus.

Geta's eyes flashed with triumph and lust at you, your complete submission to him a heady aphrodisiac. With a swift movement, he shed his own garments, freeing his rigid manhood from the confines of his robe. He positioned himself between your thighs, the broad head of his member nudging your entrance.

“You shall have all of me, my sweet y/n.”

With a powerful surge, he drove into you, burying himself to the hilt of your tight, wet heat. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him, welcoming him home.

Your scream of pleasure was muffled by Geta's mouth claiming yours in a searing kiss as he filled you to the brim. The intense stretch and fullness sent shockwaves of delight through your quivering form, making your toes curl and your inner muscles flutter around his thick length. You whimpered against his lips, your nails raking down his back in fervent appreciation. You wrapped your long legs around his waist, locking your ankles to keep him buried inside you as he began to move. Each powerful thrust hit your sweet spot, sending sparks of euphoria racing up your spine.

Geta's grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pounded into you with relentless intensity. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the chamber, punctuated by his ragged breathing and your high pitched moans.

Your climax came to you intensely, your body bowed off the bed, a keening wail tearing from your throat as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.Just as your tremors began to subside, Geta's own release barreled into him with the force of a storm. With a hoarse roar, he buried himself to the hilt one last time, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside your spasming channel.

Geta collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His chest heaved against yours, your sweat slicked skin sticking together as he struggled to catch his breath.

“You are exquisite, my love.” He panted, nuzzling his face into the crook of you neck. “So perfect.”

He lifted his head to gaze at you, his usually cold, calculating eyes now soft with satisfaction and a hint of tender affection, he gently kissed your lips, your cheeks, your eyes, pouring all his love onto you.

Geta rolled onto his side, pulling you close and wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you against him.

As you two laid together, in the dim light of the oil lamps of the chamber, you couldn’t stop thinking about what would be of you two. You belonged to him completely now and the thought of letting him go was clouding your mind.

“My love…will they let us be?” You asked, as you grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles.

"I am emperor," he growled, pulling you closer. "I decide what can and cannot be."

And with those words you knew, there was nothing else to fear, if the gods had decided to bring you to him who were you to deny.

#emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x female reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn #joe quinn

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marvelrivalsimagines · 9 days ago

Text

A Blessing From the Gods

Characters: Hela, Moon Knight, Scarlet Witch, Winter soldier

Prompt: “could you do Moon knight, Bucky and any other character of your choice with another avatar of a Greek gods?” - anon request

Author’s note: I tried to keep which God you are the avatar of vague so you can imagine whatever kinds of powers/backstory you’d like. Also I’m not sure if the requester wanted the HCs to be romantic or platonic but I think these can be read either way.

Warnings: None!

When Hela sees you for the first time she is immediately intrigued by your presence, for better or worse. She can tell that you are definitely no god yourself, yet she can sense that you have brushed with divinity frequently. She has had brief, and awkward, conversations with Moon Knight about his connection to Khonsu so she realizes that you must also be an avatar. But an avatar of which god? As much as Hela likes to pretend she’s all knowing and above childish emotions like curiosity, she can’t satiate her burning desire to know more until she finally talks to you for herself.

Hela approaches you with her usual confident smirk and a snide comment about how there appears to be “yet another mortal avatar running about”. As you share your first conversation Hela's face is stoic as she bluntly asks you her burning questions, but if you are observant enough you can see an amused look in her eye. Hela is pleasantly surprised, you are far more interesting to her than Khonsu’s little knight.

As Hela learns more about your relationship with your god she says she finds herself even more thankful for her dominion over death, preferring to rely on her legions of Hel to do her bidding over having some weak and fickle human. A lot of your conversations have this same energy lol. It sometimes feels like the goddess looks down on you, but it’s undeniable that she enjoys your presence simply because she keeps coming back to you.

A lot of the other heroes think that Hela has it out for you with how much she picks on you. It isn’t common for Hela to have good intentions for anybody outside of herself, not even her own brothers. But with all the time you’re starting to spend with the goddess of death, you’re able to pick up on the subtle tone of affection in her voice when she speaks to you. Even if her words are just as demeaning as what she would say to others.

If you have a more adversarial relationship with your God, Hela is always eager to listen to your complaints and she always takes your side on arguments. Hela doesn’t have many good relationships with the other gods but she likes you, so as far as she’s concerned you’re always right. Hela also loves stirring the pot between other gods, so sometimes she’ll give you less violent ways to get back at your god. For example, she’ll tell you stories of something embarrassing that happened to your god centuries ago and then tell you to bring it up to your god whenever they start to bother you.

To be completely honest, the Moon Knight system doesn’t pay you much mind when you first join the fight for the multiverse. The Fist of Khonshu is here to carry out his god’s will so his senses are focused on the mission at hand, not necessarily the people around him. Marc knows you’re there as he’s cautiously aware of all the people around him, but it’s the old bird who brings his attention to you. Khonshu, with his knowledge of the other gods and their avatars, recognizes you and then proceeds to yap about your god in Marc’s head for 5 minutes straight.

How your first interaction with Moon Knight goes depends a lot on what Khonshu has to say about your god. If he speaks positively about your god then Marc is definitely curious about what kind of a person you are. Khonshu historically hasn’t played well with the other gods, so Marc can’t help but wonder what kind of deity you’re wrapped up with if Khonshu can get along with them. If Khonshu doesn’t like your god then Marc may be pressured by Khonshu to confront you in an attempt to settle some 2,000 year old beef between gods. I’ll pray for you if that’s the case

But whether your first encounter is out of Marc’s own curiosity or because of Khonshu’s petty drama, as the two of you inevitably talk Moon Knight feels a small connection starting to grow with you. Marc’s connection to Khonshu has always seemingly alienated him from the other heroes who think he’s plain crazy, but as a fellow avatar you’re both able to share some of your experiences with each other. Whether your relationship with your own god is as turbulent as Marc’s or not, Marc feels a slight weight lifted off his shoulders as he’s able to speak with someone who can truly understand the pressure of constantly being beneath a god’s gaze.

Marc doesn’t let many people into his life, but when people do get close to him the entire Moon Knight system becomes very protective over them. So if you have a bad relationship with your god, or really anything in your life starts to go south, Moon Knight’s first instinct is to seek out some sort of revenge for you. However it’s obviously not possible for him to go against a whole god on your behalf and that fact is really frustrating for Moon Knight. Be careful what you complain about around Moon Knight, he will throw hands for you at a moment's notice lol.

Wanda is unfortunately another one who doesn’t pay too much attention to the people around her, so she might not acknowledge you at first. She’s worried about preserving the very fabric that holds her reality together, so you’re gonna have to do something kind of eye-catching to initially get her attention lol.

As one of the most powerful magic wielding beings and the Sorceress Supreme of her universe, one thing that will definitely make her interested in you is any magical abilities your god may have bestowed upon you. While Wanda is concentrating on controlling her own chaos magic on the battlefield, her mind is still able to recognize a kind of magic she has never seen before. Cue her now being mildly distracted as she low key tries to watch you and fight the enemy team at the same time.

Instantly Wanda has a need to know everything about your abilities, and as soon as the battle is over she’s trying to speak to you. What kind of magic do you wield? How did you get these powers? Are you just a beginner at magic or can you show her some of your advanced spells? Honestly it might kind of feel like when you tell someone you have a skill, like drawing or speaking another language, and someone just immediately puts you on the spot and asks you to do it for them. It’s especially intimidating if you know that she’s the Sorceress Supreme of her universe, like how are you supposed to impress her lol? But don’t worry Wanda means well, she’s just very blunt and is curious about the different kinds of magic people have access to in these new universes <3

Wanda isn’t known for being very social, but whenever there is down time in between missions you two tend to seek each other out now. Whether it’s a conversation about your personal lives over some lunch, or the both of you focusing on honing your magic in complete silence, Wanda is so used to your presence that it starts to feel strange when you’re not around. In her universe she’s constantly holding reality together, constantly fighting off magical threats, constantly trying to gain more control over her powers. But here with you Wanda greatly enjoys feeling more like a ‘normal’ person.

You know, if you’re having a problem with your god you’ve now got a whole Sorceress Supreme on your side, and Wanda isn’t afraid of talking back to gods and higher beings. In her timeline she is constantly trying to stop power hungry gods from collapsing her universe, so if you need someone to just casually intimidate your god into being a bit kinder to you, Wanda has more than enough experience to get the job done. She will ask to speak to the manager for you.

Everything that’s happened in the first few weeks of the time stream entanglement has become a blur for Bucky. Suddenly he’s in another dimension with a new (and tentacle-y?) metal arm and he’s fighting alongside other heroes from different dimensions for the fate of the universe. Alright, cool. This is fine. Before all of this mess started, meeting you and being told that you’re an avatar of a Greek god could have shocked Bucky, but now that fact somehow seems like the most normal thing he’s been told in his life.

As you, Bucky, and the rest of your team head out on your mission Bucky has heard a little bit about your background from Steve, who gave him a brief on all of their strange new teammates. As you clash with the heroes on the other side of the fight Bucky finds his normally focused senses drifting to you. Divine powers tend to be pretty flashy, and a trained soldier like Bucky can immediately see how skilled you are at what you do. As Bucky gets caught off guard by a diving Psylocke, the flash of your abilities is a welcome sight as you help him fend her off. Your reward for helping Bucky? A gruff “Thanks”, before he hones in on another enemy. Isn’t he dreamy <3

After that fight you’ll most likely have to approach Bucky first. Bucky knows he should probably give you a proper thank you for your help, but unfortunately Hydra brainwashing will do a number on your social skills. When you check in on Bucky after the fight is over, you’ll find that he’s slightly more talkative than usual - really just towards you, Steve, or Clint though. He has a lot of questions he'd like to ask you, he’s not as familiar with all these gods and aliens as some of the other heroes are, but he also doesn’t want to accidentally offend you. Bucky knows that he certainly doesn’t have a happy or inspiring story behind how he got his powers, so he doesn’t want to accidentally be too invasive.

As the two of you grow closer you notice that Bucky tends to stick by your side a lot, both in and out of combat. In combat, Bucky sticks by your side as he knows that he can rely on you if things get rough. He also wants to be there in case he needs to return the favor and help get a diver off of your back. But when you both are just relaxing in between missions, Bucky finds comfort in your presence. Consciously or subconsciously, Bucky knows that you’re a person he can let his guard down around, which isn't a very common experience for him. With everything that he’s been through in life, the fact that the former Winter Soldier trusts you means a lot.

Bucky really empathizes with you if you have a bad relationship with the god you serve. He has a lot of experience with being used as a living weapon, being treated like your only worth is what you can do for the person giving you your orders. He can’t stand to see another person live that way, especially not when it’s you. Bucky knows that he can’t go up against a god, and he knows enough about these kinds of power dynamics to understand that trying to stand up for you might actually make your situation worse. So Bucky commits himself to supporting you in whatever way you ask him to.

#marvel rivals #x reader #marvel rivals x reader #hela x reader #moon knight x reader #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader #loomis writes sometimes #LWS hela #LWS moon knight #LWS scarlet witch #LWS winter soldier

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

Note

Reader that's a demon that represents the sin of gluttony, reader can be very rude sometimes and is constantly seen snacking on stuff, reader became a demon after being sacrificed to the devil and ever since, they've called themselves one of the devils valiant soldiers, the characters accidentally end up falling in love with reader after witnessing reader cause mass destruction cuz they were pissed and the characters think reader is some sort of overlord but reader turns out to be super chill about being a demon and only act evil when they wanna make people scared of them or when they wanna prove a point(the annihilation gang and the legion is chasing reader and trying to get reader to join them, reader doesn't want to join the destruction.)

I was thinking Boothill, Aventurine, Blade, Kafka, Acheron, and Jing Yuan, you pick which character u wanna do!

Between Crumbs and Cataclysms

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Kafka x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Demon!Reader, Dark Humor, Unlikely Allies, Chaos, Casual Destruction, Snarky, Found Respect, Morally Grey.

Warnings: Mild language, implied violence, destruction, morally ambiguous themes.

Aventurine stood at the edge of the casino’s grand balcony, the lights of the city sprawling beneath him like a sea of fireflies. The world always seemed like a gamble to him, a constant series of risks and rewards. But tonight, something felt… different.

His eyes narrowed as he observed the chaos unfolding below. The sounds of screams, explosions, and destruction rippled through the air, and in the middle of it all, a figure stood, casually munching on a bag of snacks—each bite taken with the same lackadaisical ease as if the entire galaxy's fate wasn't hanging in the balance.

Aventurine tilted his head, intrigued. He'd heard the rumors—whispers of a demon who devoured everything in sight, a being representing the sin of gluttony, one whose wrath could raze cities and whose casual disregard for destruction had become the stuff of legends. He’d even heard people call you an overlord.

But the image he’d built in his mind was not what he saw before him. You weren’t the terrifying monster that stories made you out to be. You were just… eating chips.

“What a spectacle,” Aventurine muttered under his breath, his usual flair for dramatic commentary giving way to something closer to genuine curiosity. He adjusted his blazer, ensuring his gold-lined roulette imagery caught the moonlight just right. His instincts told him you weren’t simply here for the chaos; there was something deeper to your presence.

He stepped forward with purpose, his polished black shoes clicking against the stone floor. As he approached, your gaze lifted, your eyes barely flicking over to him before you went back to chewing.

“Don't mind me,” you said casually, your voice rich with an uninterested tone. "I'm just having a snack."

Aventurine smirked, unable to hide the gleam of fascination in his eyes. He had seen many things in his life—risks, gambles, grand gestures—but nothing quite like you. You didn’t seem interested in his persona, his theatrics, or even his title as one of the Ten Stonehearts. To you, he was just another person in the chaos of the universe.

“Quite the appetite you have,” he remarked, still studying you as you reached into your snack bag for another handful. “Tell me, is this your idea of a… victory feast?”

You shrugged, not even bothering to look up from your snacks. "Victory? Nah. Just satisfying a craving, y'know? Got a lot of pent-up frustration and hunger. So, I'm making sure I don't go overboard this time."

Aventurine couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. “Pent-up frustration… So, what’s the gamble here? The city? Your snack supply?”

You smirked, a little amusement flickering in your eyes. "Nah. The gamble is whether or not people can learn not to cross me. It’s more fun when they think I’m some overlord trying to destroy everything. It gets the right kind of attention. Besides,” you added with a devil-may-care grin, “it lets me prove a point.”

He watched as you carelessly tossed a half-eaten bag of chips into the air, watching it explode in a cloud of crumbs as it collided with the side of a building. He chuckled softly. You didn’t act like an overlord, you probably were an overlord.

“You know, if you ever considered not throwing tantrums, you could be a dangerous ally,” Aventurine mused, his voice laced with interest. “But, of course, you enjoy keeping them guessing.”

“You bet,” you responded, leaning back casually. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold, don’t I?”

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed. There was more to you than met the eye, but there was something oddly compelling about the way you operated. Something that matched the duality of his own existence. Perhaps it was your unpredictability, or perhaps the fact that you didn’t try to pretend to be anything you weren’t.

His lips curled into a sly smile. “I think I could have some fun with you.”

Aventurine extended his gloved hand toward you, his gaze steady, waiting for you to either accept or dismiss his offer. As you looked at him, unamused, the tension between the two of you simmered.

Finally, you grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. “We’ll see. But only if you don’t expect me to be some kind of ally. I’ve got my own agenda.”

“Understood,” Aventurine replied smoothly. “I don't need another team member, just a… worthy adversary.”

Kafka observed you from the shadows, her sharp eyes studying the scene. Her right hand rested on her chin as she evaluated the chaos you'd unleashed, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Your destruction was swift and savage, like a storm in human form. Yet, your demeanor was as relaxed as someone enjoying a leisurely afternoon snack.

She watched you devour yet another sandwich with unsettling indifference, the residue of the city you’d obliterated already coating your lips. You were everything she had heard about and yet… completely opposite. The infamous demon of gluttony, they said. Yet here you were, casually making yourself at home in the wreckage you’d created.

Kafka’s finger twitched, and her mind spun with possibilities. It wasn’t often she encountered beings like you—those whose true power lay in their ability to confuse and manipulate perception. The rumors had portrayed you as an overlord, a figure of unimaginable wrath, but the reality was something else entirely.

She approached you slowly, her heels clicking softly against the debris.

“So, the great Glutton, in the flesh,” Kafka's voice was cool, her words carefully measured, as though testing the waters. “I must admit, I was expecting… more of a spectacle.”

You paused mid-bite, looking at her with a half-lidded gaze. “Spectacle?” you repeated, as if the word was foreign to you. “What, you think I’m supposed to scream and act all evil to prove a point? Nah, I just blow things up when people piss me off. Sometimes, I just want some peace, but I’m okay with chaos too.”

Kafka tilted her head, studying you further. Your casual air was nothing like the terrifying demon she'd imagined. You were too relaxed, too… human.

“You’re a demon, yes?” Kafka continued, circling you like a predator testing its prey. “But you don’t act like one.”

“Eh, it’s all about the show, isn’t it?” you shrugged nonchalantly, wiping your hands off on your shirt. “People are too quick to label. Besides, who wants to be all angry and ‘evil’ all the time? It’s way more fun letting people think you’re terrifying.”

Kafka chuckled softly, her eyes narrowing. There was something dangerously intriguing about you. Your ability to play with perception, to twist expectations to your advantage—she couldn’t help but admire it.

“But aren’t you a little tired of all the destruction? Of always being hunted by the Annihilation Gang, the Legion, the IPC? You could have power. True power.”

You glanced at her, a raised eyebrow showing the faintest flicker of curiosity. “Power’s overrated. What’s the fun in having all that when you can just snack on a sandwich and watch the world burn?”

Kafka’s lips curled into a smile. “You're more than just a destroyer, aren't you? You have an agenda—just as I do. Perhaps, we could join forces.”

You paused, considering the offer. "I told you. I’m not looking to join any group. I’m just here for the fun and the snacks. But sure, let’s see where this goes."

He had been tracking an unusual disturbance across the galaxy—an entity so powerful that even the IPC couldn't fully comprehend it. Boothill had heard rumors: A demon, said to embody the sin of gluttony, was wreaking havoc wherever they went. Some called them a harbinger of doom, others spoke of their insatiable hunger for power, but Boothill wasn't buying the hype. He'd seen his fair share of destructive forces.

He reached the site of the latest chaos—a once-bustling marketplace now reduced to rubble. The smell of charred food and debris filled the air. Boothill began to scan the wreckage. His eyes narrowed as he observed the scene. And then, there it was—a figure sitting casually on a pile of smoking ruins, munching on an oversized sandwich as if it were any other afternoon snack.

The figure was... relaxed. Too relaxed for someone who was supposed to be an unstoppable force of destruction.

"Well, well," Boothill muttered to himself, aiming his eye at the figure, which had yet to notice him. "A demon, huh? I’ve seen worse."

As Boothill approached, you lazily glanced up, crumbs falling from your mouth as you chewed. "Oh, hey," you said with a smirk, not even remotely phased by the carnage around you. "You look like a guy who might need a snack. Want one?"

Boothill blinked in confusion. This demon, the one who had been tearing through entire cities, was offering him food? The audacity of it. "I’m not here for a picnic," he growled. "I came to see what kind of monster you really are."

You shrugged, taking another bite of your sandwich. "Oh, you know, the usual. I make a mess, people get scared, and then they try to make me join some stupid legion or annihilation gang. Bunch of guys in robes trying to get me to sign on for world destruction, as if I’ve got time for that."

Boothill’s mechanical body hummed in surprise. "Wait, you're not here to destroy the galaxy? You just... do it for fun?"

You chuckled, tossing the sandwich aside. "I mean, yeah. It’s funny, isn’t it? People panic when I start causing chaos, and they always assume I’m some big overlord or something. But honestly, I just wanted to grab a few snacks and scare some people. Kinda like putting on a show. I’m not really into all this 'world-ending' business."

Boothill stood there, dumbfounded. His eyes scanned the scene once more—massive holes in the ground, torn-up roads, fire still smoldering in the distance. This was the work of someone who had no care for life, who thrived on destruction, who... just wanted to be left alone with a snack. It didn't make sense.

"That’s it? All this destruction, and you're just... chilling?" Boothill asked, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

"Yep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a demon," you replied with a lazy yawn. "But I like to keep it casual. If I wanted to join the annihilation gang, I would’ve done it by now. But I’m not looking to end the world, just eat and take a nap. I’ve got better things to do than join some group of crazies."

Boothill was taken aback. Here was a demon who, despite their immense power, had no real desire to take over the world. All they wanted was food, peace, and maybe a little chaos for the fun of it. It was such a bizarre mix of menace and indifference that Boothill couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

"I thought you'd be more... intense," Boothill admitted, taking a cautious step closer. "Aren’t demons supposed to be all evil and hell-bent on destruction?"

You stretched lazily, your eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Nah, that’s just a stereotype. I can be as evil as I want when it suits me. But really? I’d rather just get some rest. So, what about you? You’re not exactly the type to just wander around, are you?"

Boothill narrowed his eyes, still unsure whether to approach the situation as an ally or adversary. "I’m looking for revenge," he said simply. "The IPC destroyed my home, killed my family. I’m not here for petty politics, just destruction. Justice."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "That’s a big mission. I’m more of a 'do what I want, when I want' kind of demon. Sounds like we’re not on the same page, huh?"

"Not really," Boothill agreed. "But... I respect the independence."

For the first time since meeting you, Boothill allowed himself a small smirk. This encounter was strange, but there was something about your carefree attitude that made Boothill pause. Perhaps you weren’t all bad. Maybe you didn’t fit the mold of the typical villain. You were... human in a strange, twisted way.

"So," Boothill asked cautiously, "What happens now?"

You stretched out and popped another snack into your mouth, grinning as you relaxed further into the ruins. "Well, I guess we go our separate ways. You keep chasing down your revenge, and I’ll keep avoiding those idiots who want me to join their death cults. We can always bump into each other again if you feel like a snack or two."

Boothill’s eyes glinted with amusement. "You sure know how to make a mess of things, but you don’t seem so bad after all."

You gave him a lazy wave, then popped another snack into your mouth, smiling with satisfaction. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep things interesting. Take care, cowboy."

As Boothill turned to leave, he couldn’t help but feel an odd respect for you. You might not be what he expected, but in a way, you were just like him—fighting for your own cause, in your own way.

And maybe, just maybe, Boothill found a strange comfort in the chaos you created.

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