#like so long as he was appreciative and whatever

[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

[morganakang444]

𝑑𝘰𝑛‘𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 || 𝑙𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝑝𝘵 2) ౨ৎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི lee heeseung x fem!reader

☆゙ ↳ main masterlist

☆゙ ↳ prev | next

☆゙ ↳ synopsis: you don‘t want me? fine. the two of us can play that game.

the heartthrob of the campus had finally set his eyes on y/n. she was going to be his next victim, to fall for him and assume she can fix him moments before she finds herself ghosted. but y/n knew all too well…too bad she only captures heeseung‘s heart after beating him at his own game. that’s when she learns: don’t hate the player. hate the game.

☆゙ ↳ wc: 3828

☆゙ ↳ genre/warnings: a lil smutty again (y/n touches herself lol), cursing, maybe a bit rushed (?), y/n is still a virgin and heeseung is turning into a simp lwk, drinking, partying, mentions of sex, if i missed anything lmk!!

☆゙ ↳ an: i‘m super nervous to post this because i‘m rlly hoping it lives up to part one!! (i am scared that is my peak if u can‘t tell.) i‘ve had most of this written already so this is why it came so fast. part three will be taking a little while lol also i had to mention the nostalgic jackson wang party!!

in the car, karina basically dragged y/n into the passenger seat, a concerned look on her face. "are you okay?? hee didn’t give me any time to ask what happ—"

y/n waved her hand, signaling karina to stop talking. "i‘m fine. i was just getting harassed by some guy and heeseung helped me out." she placed her hand down, a smirk forming on y/n‘s face. "but your plan worked quicker than i thought it would—heeseung admitted to wanting me. and it was a real, raw, just—genuine thing that came from his mouth." y/n chuckled. "pretty soon i‘ll have to leave him hanging." she smiled, satisfied.

karina‘s mouth was agape in disbelief, blinking at y/n‘s words. "this fast? i knew playing hard to get was the best shot," karina snickered, nudging y/n‘s shoulder before starting up her car.

and as they started driving y/n remembered who karina was with before coming here; yunjin.

"how‘s it going with yunjin?" y/n noticed karina‘s grip on the steering wheel tighten.

"i don’t even know if there is anything going on with yunnie. we‘re together and we fuck and talk or go to sleep a little together before one of us has to leave." she frowns.

"so…a situationship with your ex, hm?" y/n asks sympathetically.

karina only nods. "but i‘ll be over it soon. i‘ll meet another cute girl or maybe a nice, manly guy and i‘ll probably forget all about her."

but y/n knew karina too well—she could never forget about her girlfriend since junior year of high school. she placed her manicured hand on karina’s round shoulder.

"you love her, huh?"

karina gave y/n a saddened smile. "i think you know that answer…"

"let’s go shopping and get your mind off this, hm? we can go home after and order takeout and watch a movie, yeah?"

karina nods, grinning appreciatively at y/n.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

sitting in their small dorm room, y/n‘s ipad was setup against a pillow on karina‘s bed. with blankets and pillows under them, on them, and all around them, karina and y/n sat against y/n‘s bed, a low, long, tv tray over their laps, snacks and food all over it, the girls picking up and eating whatever like it was a buffet—sushi, cheeseburger sliders, jellies, puddings, fried rice, mac n cheese, sodas, and pizza rolls on plates in front of them as their eyes were glued to '10 things i hate about you' playing on the tiny screen in front of them.

y/n was slurping down a jello cup when karina‘s phone pinged. she licked burger grease off her fingers before she wiped it on her old, oversized pajama shirt and picked up her phone.

"it‘s sunoo…he wants to know if you and i wanna come to jackson wang‘s party tomorrow night." karina says as she reads sunoo‘s message.

y/n thinks. "isn’t jackson the president of the frat he‘s in? is it going to be in the frat house?" she blinks.

karina nods. "yeah, it will be. i know you don’t like parties so we d—"

"let’s go." y/n smiles. "i never go out. and i don’t want you to stay home because of me."

karina raises a surprised brow. "you sure?"

y/n nods, sounding assured of her decision. "yeah. i wanna."

"okay, i‘ll tell sunoo.." karina smirks, happy her best friend was finally expanding her horizons.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

all through that next day, y/n rushed through her classes, not paying much attention to anything at all—except for the wonders filling her mind about her first real party.

it was ridiculous—y/n felt like a high schooler all over again.

however, that whole day y/n hadn’t bumped into heeseung once. she felt a strange sense of disappointment swell up inside of her…but she didn’t know why. and as she shook that feeling off as her last class of the day ended, she darted home to get ready with karina tonight.

"pink…pink…or…pink! 'kay…" karina sighed, helping y/n choose an outfit for later tonight.

"what‘s wrong with pink, hm?" y/n teased, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"pink isn’t sexy…" karina pulls out a silk, baby pink mini dress with a thin, white trim around the end and around the v-neck cleavage. she narrowed her eyes, analyzing the article of clothing deeply.

"this can make due…" she speaks, fingers running the material of the slit on the dress intently.

"with what?" y/n tilts her head.

"those little white heels you have—the kitten heels that are open toed. anddd…" karina trails off, grabbing y/n‘s little jewelry holder hanging in her closet. "these little pearl earrings, and your thin little pearl necklace." karina holds up a matching set of tiny dangly pearl earrings and a necklace. she lays it out on y/n‘s bed, shoes going underneath on the floor.

"and we‘ll curl the ends of your hair…and keep the makeup light, but add some glitter, hm?" karina came close to y/n, touching all over her hair, fingers running through and eyes scanning over the girl‘s soft locks.

"yes ma‘am." y/n salutes with a playful smirk before standing up. karina gives y/n‘s ass a little smack, earning a small squeal from the girl who was soon laughing.

"now go shower, you stink." karina teased.

y/n playfully scoffed before grabbing her stuff and going to the dorm showers.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

and even in the shower, y/n could only think of all the fun she was about to have as she stood under the warm water, feeling the warmness cascade down her body.

all the possibilities ran through her head—who would she dance with? would she get black out drunk and make out with someone? what if she slept with someone and lost her v card at a frat party?

y/n sighed, her mind trailing off to what it‘d feel like to finally have sex for the first time. how it‘d feel to have a man hold her close and slide in and out of her tight heat as he moaned her name with each thrust. how a man would leave a trail of hickeys down her neck and breasts as he fingered her, curling his digits inside of her warm, wet pussy, hitting the sweet spot inside of her that made her see stars.

y/n sighed in frustration, leaning her head back against the cold shower tile wall, one of the rare moments of arousal taking over her system, flowing through her veins so sweetly, making her pussy start to drip.

swallowing in defeat, y/n‘s hand traveled down, inching closer and closer to her core, the soft pads of her fingers finding her aching clit, rubbing it in tight little circles, her mouth forming an 'o' shape as her back arched off the tile wall in pleasure. y/n‘s eyes fluttered shut as small sighs left her lips, her fingers moving in a faster rhythm, her mind swarmed with thoughts of being fucked…the feeling of a hand wrapped around her throat as she was pounded into—y/n was never thinking of a specific person, to be honest. in her imagination, the man fucking her didn’t exactly have a face, (but did have a banging bod.) until her hands were moving faster and rougher over her clit, rubbing the swollen nub as she got closer and closer to her peak, her breathy moans echoing off the shower walls…and in her mind there was finally a face. one so unexpected she suddenly pulled back her hand, ripping her orgasm away from herself as her eyes flew open in shock.

why the fuck did lee heeseung‘s face appear in her mind??

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

after her shower, y/n could only stare into her own eyes through the bathroom mirror, a mix of disgust and confusion welling up inside of her.

she combed her wet hair before putting it up in a clawclip, slipping her white towel off her freshly washed and shaved body. she sighed, shuffling her playlist as she applied her skincare to her baby soft face.

all she could think about as she rubbed in her expensive serums and moisturisers was why? why did she have to think about heeseung of all people?

she wasn’t even attracted to him like that—but all y/n could do was brush it off as the fact that it was a mere flashback to the night two weeks ago that left heeseung hanging. she wouldn‘t cave in now. but heeseung was right about one thing.

y/n‘s hands were not doing the job right.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"y/n! are you ready?" karina called from right outside their shared dorm room, coming back from the bathroom down the hall.

"yeah…" y/n reluctantly spoke, not too sure if she liked her appearance or not. she was standing in front of her full length mirror propped against her bed, looking at her body from all angles.

karina slowly walked inside, a dramatic gasp leaving her lips as she covered her mouth, staring at y/n.

"you look so hot, y/nnie!!" she squealed, coming up behind her best friend, hugging her from behind and resting her chin on the crook of y/n‘s smooth shoulder.

"you‘re so beautiful." karina smiles affectionately, her tiny purple dress touching y/n‘s. and y/n did look beautiful. her curves were perfectly accentuated by her little pink dress, her soft shoulders on full display thanks to the thin spaghetti straps. her white kitten heels showed off her freshly painted pink toenails, her moisturised skin glowing naturally.

y/n smiled softly, locking eyes with karina. "you really think so?"

karina nods. "the most."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

it was a short drive to the s.a.e frat house which was already crowded by 11pm. y/n nervously stepped out of karina‘s car, a shaky sigh exiting her glossed lips. taking note of y/n‘s nervousness, karina reached her hand out and took y/n‘s, giving her a reassuring squeeze and a matching smile.

"don’t be scared. this‘ll be fun!" karina pulled y/n inside the huge house, the blaring music growing louder once they stepped closer and closer inside.

upon entry in the dimly lit house, it seemed like everyone from uni was there. the only lighting was shitty leds that could barely illuminate anything, and there were people making out or grinding on each other to the music in every corner of at least four rooms. y/n adverted her gaze, not wanting to feel like she was watching a live action porno about to unfold.

following karina through the crowd, y/n kept her head low, not exactly wanting to draw any attention to herself. this wasn’t really the first party moment she was imagining.

"wanna take a shot?" karina asks, now in the kitchen where the liquor was stored. y/n shakes her head. "one of us has to drive." she laughs dryly, earning a shrug from her best friend. "and that will be you," karina says in a lively manner before downing a shot. she slammed the tiny glass down on the white counter, her face contorting into disgust and eyes squeezing shut.

"fuck, that’s strong…" karina exhales, her matte lips forming an 'o' shape. y/n could smell the alcohol on karina‘s breath, making y/n slightly nauseas.

karina opened her eyes, and looked around. just then, her dark brown eyes landed on a familiar figure with shoulder length red hair and a tiny black dress. karina could tell right away it was the love of her life, huh yunjin.

"there she is, y/n…" karina holds y/n‘s arm, making her look towards yunjin‘s direction, her slender, black polished finger pointed directly to the redhead.

"call her over," spoke y/n encouragingly, trying to calm down the dark haired girl.

"what if she doesn’t want to? what if she doesn’t want to see me in public? what if s—"

y/n rolled her eyes, cutting off karina‘s nervous string of rambles, hollering yunjin‘s name, making her look at the pair. karina shyly hid behind y/n as if the girl were her shield. and as y/n motioned for yunjin to come over, karina lightly smacked y/n‘s bare arm. "what are you doing?" karina whisper yelled, unaware her ex girlfriend was making her way over to them right now.

without a word, y/n dragged karina out from behind her frame. karina stumbled, practically getting shoved into yunjin.

"umm…hi…" karina shyly spoke, adverting eye contact in contrast to her confident ex who stood in front of her.

"oh don’t act like you don’t know me…" yunjin teased, sipping out of her red solo cup as she tucked a strand of karina‘s long, curled hair behind her earring plated ear.

"wanna hang with us? we‘ve both missed you. i know she‘s seen a lot of you lately," y/n started, touching karina‘s shoulder, "but i haven’t." she playfully pouted.

yunjin smirks, softly chuckling.

"yeah, i don’t have anyone else to see." she came closer to karina, a look of enjoyment on her face at making the younger girl nervous.

y/n smiled at karina, knowing her little scheme has worked.

karina grabbed another shot, downing it quickly to subdue her nerves.

"um…wanna dance?" karina asks, her gaze falling on and off of yunjin.

"sure. i‘m always down to dance with you, rina." yunjin grabbed karina‘s hand. "you coming y/n?"

y/n shook her head. "i‘m okay, i‘ll join later—you two should get your time alone."

and with that, yunjin took karina to some other room, leaving y/n alone in the kitchen.

y/n made her rounds, talked to some people from her classes and danced a little with some guy…but she grew bored and craved time with her best friend.

"karina!" y/n called out, walking around the party. moving past people, mumbling 'sorry' and 'excuse me' a few times, her pale eyes darted around, in search for karina or at least yunjin.

but to no avail, y/n grew worried once she reached upstairs and walked in every bedroom, six out of nine containing people having sex—and karina nor yunjin were in none of them.

with an exasperated sigh, y/n pulled out her phone, looking for someone—anyone to call. and her eyes fell on one contact. heeseung.

y/n could call anyone else—annie from history class was here, her friend robin, even joshua would have come to help her. but for some reason, she really wanted to call heeseung…

pressing the contact name, she hit the call option, sighing shakily as she put her phone up to her ear, leaning up against an upstairs wall.

"hello?" y/n heard heeseung‘s voice through the line after a few rings, and faint music in the back. the same music as the party—was he here? probably. everyone else was.

"heeseung? it’s y/n…i need you…" she said with a defeated tone, laced with desperation.

"ahh, finally come to your senses, huh? but i wanna take you out first. i don’t want you to be just a hook u—"

"no, heeseung! not like that!" y/n placed her hand on her head, growing irritated. "i lost karina and yunjin. i‘m upstairs…can you help me out?"

heeseung chuckled. "on my way."

y/n hung up, placing her hands on her face as she crouched against a wall, waiting for her knight and shining armor.

within a few minutes, a hand tapped y/n‘s shoulder, and she looked up to see the person she needed most right now. she flashed a smile of relief, taking heeseung‘s extended hand and pulled herself up.

"thank you, heeseung…" she mumbled, fixing her dress.

heeseung‘s eyes trailed y/n‘s figure up and down…but not with the usual lust in his heart and eyes like he felt with other girls. there was warmth spreading through him like a flower slowly blossoming. something more of affection coursed through his veins. he could only think of her as beautiful—alluring, even instead of sexy. in this moment he would rather have held her in his arms and stroked her hair as she fell asleep instead of fucking her. and that was unusual for him.

"yeah, yeah…come on. i‘ll take you home. you sober?"

y/n nodded. "i was supposed to take the girls home."

heeseung led the girl downstairs and past the crowd, out to his car.

"i‘m glad you chose to call me…" he smiles, opening the passenger door for y/n.

y/n looked down bashfully as she got in, waiting for heeseung to get in the driver‘s seat before replying.

"i guess i figured i could count on you." she replied, putting on her seatbelt.

heeseung looked at y/n affectionately. "that means a lot to hear, you know."

and in that moment of vulnerability, both of them could have seen the truth hidden behind their eyes. the deep meaning sodden with verity. even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

but y/n only looked away. she nodded slowly, biting the inside of her lip to hold back a small smile that was about to form on her lips.

heeseung could only smirk a bit at her shy reaction, not used to her being such a timid little thing.

and with that he drove, both of his hands on the wheel. glancing towards y/n, he saw her delicate hand resting on the console between them, her attention looking out the window towards the night lit sky, and the city around them illuminated by a cascade of lights.

but heeseung was bold. when he looked at y/n, he no longer saw some girl he was chasing. he no longer saw a target to be shot at and claimed. but he didn‘t know why. he didn‘t know what this feeling he held for her exactly was…love? a twisted type of lust?

he carefully brushed his big hand against her own, giving her a chance to pull away if she didn’t want this. when she didn’t, heeseung intertwined his fingers with hers, caressing her knuckle with his thumb.

heeseung didn‘t know why he wanted to hold y/n‘s hand. he could only tell himself this was the next step to getting y/n in his bed. but as heeseung‘s gaze flickered over to the h/c girl beside him, he couldn’t shake the feeling he wanted more than a quick fuck with her. in this moment, he would rather stay like this with her, her tinier hand enveloped in his warm one, her tired frame gazing out the window towards the stars in front of them.

but heeseung could never admit to real feelings for a woman. especially one who left him so humiliated those couple of weeks ago in his dorm room.

the rest of the car ride was of pure silence—the comfortable one, though. the feeling of heeseung‘s calloused thumb contrasting y/n‘s smooth hand set aside her nerves until they got back to her dorm.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"you know…i meant what i said over the phone.." heeseung said as the pair approached y/n‘s dorm room, looking down towards his feet before his gaze met y/n‘s.

y/n leaned against her dormitory door, her eyes squinting slightly in confusion. "what did you say..?"

heeseung smirked slightly, leaning his arm against the metal doorframe, towering over y/n. "when i said i wanted to take you out." his smirk turned into a smile of tenderness, letting her feel just how much he meant it.

"oh really?" y/n teased. "i thought you didn’t do dating.." she licked her lips, holding back a satisfied smile.

"nah..i don’t. but there’s something about you that makes me want to." heeseung tucked a strand of hair behind y/n‘s ear. "and i‘d like to figure out why.."

"okay." y/n shrugged. "then take me out. surprise me." she smiled a bit, leaning forward.

heeseung‘s hand traveled up to cup y/n‘s soft, unblemished cheek as he nodded, running the pad of his thumb over her skin.

"whatever you want, my girl.." his words were soft, and his eyes looked around y/n‘s face, his head coming closer to hers. "can..can i.." his words trailed off, but the intention was hung in the air.

y/n didn’t answer, instead she pressed her fingers to the boy‘s lips as he leaned in, biting her lip slightly, her smirk teasing as ever. as much as she was starting to like heeseung, as much as she would love to brush her lips against his in a fiery blaze if passion, she didn‘t. she needed to stay true to herself and her bet with karina. where was the fun in giving in now?

"nuh uh uh…" y/n taunted, tapping his lips with her manicured finger in rhythm with her coos. "i don’t kiss before a first date, heeseung." y/n licked her glossed lips, looking heeseung up and down in satisfaction, knowing she had him right where she wanted him as he let out a frustrated sigh onto her fingers.

"you‘re not slick if you think taking me on a date will help you get into my pants…" y/n tutted, crossing her arms.

heeseung only snickered, leaning slightly back from y/n.

"fine. i‘ll take you out, and i won’t fuck you. how about that? i‘ll show you just how serious i am okay?" heeseung smiled almost cockily, hiding the desperation behind his voice, wanting her to accept his plea.

y/n bit her lip ever so slightly, looking heeseung up and down provokingly. she shrugged. "sure. i‘ll go out with you." she spoke nonchalantly, a small smile of pride forming on her face as heeseung‘s ego deflated, and he let out a small "yes!" whisper, quickly clearing his throat and regaining his composure. "uh, okay, yeah. cool. can’t wait to see you y/n…" heeseung grinned. "how does this saturday sound?" heeseung swallowed, revealing the anticipation building up inside of him.

"sounds perfect," said y/n confidently, nudging heeseung away from her.

"now if you excuse me, i’m sleepy." y/n yawned, grabbing her keys from her mini purse and starting to unlock her door. "goodnight, heeseung…" she smiled sleepily.

"goodnight, pretty girl.." heeseung whispered. "i‘ll call you tomorrow." he planted a chaste kiss to y/n‘s smooth unblemished cheek before sauntering off down the hall.

as y/n entered her dorm and got herself unready as she shuffled her main playlist. she could only sigh every so often, wondering what heeseung’s true intent behind this date was. she couldn’t figure out why it mattered so much to her if she was being played right back—was it her ego being too big, not wanting to be toyed with the same way she was toying him? or was it because she thought she was seeing through some sort of act with his excitement and affection. but the deeper y/n thought about it, she didn’t sense any deception on heeseung‘s end. everything about him was so…genuine in a sense. but y/n has dealt with boys like this in the past, who thought they could hit and quit her—and when she rejected their advances she was met with a blocked number the next morning. however the difference between those boys in high school and lee heeseung is that he doesn’t give up that easy.

and for y/n, the real game was just about to start.

｡𖦹°‧ taglist:

@tsukikourito

@lannadray

@mheretoreadff

@yohanabanana

@cloud-lyy

@heeheelee

@girlwholovekpop

@invsomnixa1

(if ur tags are not working pls lmk ᝰ.ᐟ)

[mzenins]

❛ far from a couple (of besties) ! ❜ ✶ ࣪˖࿐ * satoru gojo

꒰ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ──── contents: sfw, gn reader, friends to potential lovers, reader is a teacher at jujutsu tech, banter, black cat x golden retriever combo with a small side of yearning

“how come you never want to hold my hand in public?”

you take a long sip of your lemonade refresher, feeling your thirst automatically quenched by the cold drink. the ice cubes clinked against the glass and the warm spring breeze gently whistles, filling the small momentary silence.

as you reach the end of your drink, you prolong the activity as long as possible by intentionally slurping on the straw rather slowly and swishing around the remainder of the drink in your mouth before gulping down.

the glass hits the table with a light thud, “not this again.” you sigh, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed over your chest.

“yes this again!” satoru exclaims with a small whine in his tone. he leans forward on the patio table, his hands flat on the surface.

grabbing lunch with satoru had its ups and downs. while you appreciated his generosity of inviting you out to eat with him —even offering to pay for the joint meals— and his vast knowledge of different cuisines and restaurants, moments like these damper the mood.

his knack for constantly talking about anything and everything instead of enjoying the meal and your company in silence soured the activity for you.

the days where he personally ventured out for you after his lessons with his students were arguably the worse; looking high and low in different locations of the establishment just to link arms with you and drag you away from whatever you were occupied with at the moment.

today was one of those days.

he shifts idly in his seat, “i just don’t get it— i mean, it’s not like a little hand holding is gonna hurt anyone~” a small grin tugs at the corners of his mouth due to the scowl that was present on your face.

you scoff, “i don’t even hold your hand in private why would i hold it in public?” you lean in forward against the table coming face to face with satoru as he sat across from you. you try to flick his forehead but he puts up his infinity before you get the chance, making your planned attack useless.

satoru has been pretty adamant on this oddly specific subject. saying how if you two were to “platonically hold hands” it’ll strengthen your friendship with each other. even going on about how him, shoko and nanami did it and now they’re the closest they’ve ever been.

however, you inquired to shoko about the accuracy of this statement and she looked at you dumbfounded which told you everything you already knew.

he evades your question and gasps. “don’t tell you’re afraid of physical touch, that might be a problem for future partner,” he quips.

he takes a small slip at his water and hums, “don’t you just love h2o. it’s the best, right?”

you can feel a vein in your forehead become more prominent as the scowl on your face deepens,“sure. i’m a big fan,” you deadpanned.

you tilt your head and raise a brow, “how does my love life correlate to me not wanting to hold your hand?” you can see him attempt and fail to contain his piqued interest. you’re finally asking him the right questions.

“i’m so glad you asked!” he stabs his fork into his desert, a strawberry covered cheesecake, and silently notions the fork towards you, offering a bite. you decline by shaking your head and he shrugs, taking the bite instead.

“if you can’t even hold hands with a friend how do you expect to get all touchy with your significant other, hm?”

he stumps you a bit with the question. there’s a thin line between a friend and a romantic partner, but with having a significant other also comes with a gained friendship. while you’re not touchy with most of your friends, you still hold respect for them and put enough effort to maintain those bonds.

physical touch has never been a problem for you. it’s something you don’t really mind but would pick another love language over it in a heartbeat, if given the opportunity.

before you could answer him, he speaks up. “all i’m saying is that i would make good practice so when your knight in shining amour comes around, you already know what to do.” he’s lowers his head as he peeks at you from above the small cracks of his sunglasses.

the gears shift rapidly in your head, noticing inconsistency. you narrow your eyes at him, “but wait, i thought you said us holding hands would “strengthen our bond?” where’s all this other stuff coming from?”

satoru freezes his movements. fork in mid air nearing his opened mouth. he slowly takes a bite and swallows nervously, he clears his throat, “..let’s just say we’d be killing two birds with one stone.”

“sureee..” suspicious laced in your voice, “but that won’t be necessary. we’re adults, practicing stuff like that, like we’re middle schoolers, is strange to say the least.”

satoru frowns at your words. “you’re never too young or old to learn and practice new things.”

“true but holding hands isn’t a new concept to me, satoru.”

the waitress soon comes into view at your table and asks if you’d like to close your tab. before satoru can answer with an expected ‘no’, you interject, asking for a takeout container for his cheesecake and the bill.

you let out an agitated huff while gathering your items, “we’re running late for training again. almost every time we eat out, we spend way longer than expected.” he snickers and takes out his wallet from his pocket, “yet you don’t show too much resistance when i bring you out.” he smugly bites at his lip.

“that’s because you force me out, i don’t have much of a choice.” you kick his foot under the table in annoyance and your blow presumably lands as you hear a small grunt from him.

“oh please, you would’ve been eating away at those stale donuts in the staff room everyday if it weren’t for me.” he pays for both of your meals and the two of you venture back to the school.

the walk back is surprisingly silent. something you longed for the whole day, however, it became unnerving after a few long minutes. you speak up, breaking the silence first. “by the way, i’m choosing the restaurant next time.”

satoru chuckles sarcastically, “oh? there’ll be a next time? lucky me i guess. and here i thought you didn’t enjoy my company.”

“oh my gosh will you shut the hell up.” you roll your eyes biting the inside of your cheek to hide away a forming smile.

© mzenins, all rights reserved … reblogs & feedback is welcomed.

[phyrestartr]

Sacrosanct | Adrian Tepes x M!Reader | (PT.1)

W/C: 3.8k C/W: mentions of emotional abuse, blood and gore, canon-typical violence, religion, religious abuse, religious themes, death, mentions of death, depression, alcohol abuse Tags: PLOT!, SFW, eventual NSFW/sexual themes, drama, repressed romantic feelings, slow-ish burn, childhood friends, starts s4 (eventually moving into nocturne), mutual pining, angst and drama, hurt/comfort, reader is kind of an ass lol

Note: soz if there are any spelling/grammar errors---I have been tweaking this so much and I'm so tired of it so I'm just posting the first part to get over it lol o(--( hope it's fun to read!!

1. A Man Amongst the Ghosts

Isolation was an unkind thing. Whispered secrets, foul howls and the like plagued the afflicted's everyday, wrenching away all hope of peace. The dolls, ones made in fits of lonely mania, kept Alucard some sort of company until those humans wandered through, filling in the emptiness that Trevor and Sypha once filled themselves; Taka and Sumi never could replace a Speaker and a Belmont, but the attempt was appreciated. 

Until their humanity showed. Their hatred of vampires, their distrust of anyone beyond themselves, their desperation—all reflected in dark, stone eyes as they loomed above him like the grim reaper, ready to take their pound of flesh from the bloodline that'd evaded Hell for so long. Yet what the two did not know, and what Death had always known, was that Alucard decided to live. 

But what's the point? That disease of a question never was to be answered. His mother would no doubt remind him of how precious and sacred life was, how he simply needed to seek out a spark of inspiration to once again find meaning, but how was one supposed to see meaning in the meaningless? Alucard didn't have an answer. Adrian didn't, either. 

Maybe I just need to wait for a surprise, he lamented. Another world-ending threat, or something. Maybe I could start one myself. I've nothing better to do, anyway. 

The dhampir sighed as he walked up the steps. Then, in the mouth of the great building, he paused; before him stood a figure, cloaked and still, facing the castle stairs. 

“Oh, God,” he breathed, rubbing his eyes, “not another one.” Surely, there was a way to cleanse the castle. Surely, there was a way to remove the spirits of his past, the ones who came and went as they pleased while Alucard watched on and suffocated. Surely, everyday life didn't need to be so—

His trance snapped at a sound. The castle made noises, but it didn’t scuff leather soles against stone, nor did it kick rubble out of its way to make room for hollow, echoing footsteps. Any noise the place made was slow and languid, like it was straining with each and every attempt to haunt its inhabitant; however, those footfalls were brisk and quick and so much like his mother's when she was in a rush. 

But that wasn't Lisa Tepes. It was an intruder—a real one. A man amongst ghosts.

A distant door closed, and Alucard exploded into movement.

Magic fuelled his steps, hurtling him forth in smears of vibrant crimson as he pursued the whisper of a heart beating. Whoever had tried their luck sounded calm, unbothered. Alucard was eager to change that.

The dhampir burst into the lab. A sharp yelp harmonized with the slamming of the door. Another shout was cut short the moment Alucard grabbed the stranger by the throat and pinned them to the wall with a resounding thud.

“Do you have a death wish?” He growled over whatever the stranger tried to say. 

A pause. Then, the threat was answered with a laugh, something sardonic and bitter. 

“A death wish?” They—he—scoffed, clawing at the gloved hand keeping him pinned. “Is that meant to intimidate me, you stupid, blood-sucking beast?” 

Alucard squeezed harder, earning a sharp whimper from the intruder. “It should scare you very much, yes.” 

“Wait,” he squawked. 

“Why should I?” Alucard snapped. “If I don't, you'll take from this place, won't you?” 

The stranger’s pawing turned into thrashing. 

Alucard continued, “If I don't, you’ll return and attempt to kill me. Worse, you could kill me the second I—”

“Adrian.” 

His grip weakened. 

The stranger gasped in lungfuls of air before hastily pulling back his hood. His face—your face—illuminated in the gentle morning light. 

Your gazes held for a long, long moment, one that might have gone on forever, one that might have only been a delusional second, but it was…familiar. Secretive and special, like when you lifted sweets from town and shared them underneath a table in the library.

“Don’t tell Miss Lisa,” you whispered, eyes glimmering with mirth despite your serious disposition. 

Adrian huffed and took a sweet roll from the basket. “I wouldn’t dream of it. She’ll be completely cross if she finds out.”

You nodded, and the pact was formed. “We must make sure we wash our hands afterwards,” you added as you ripped a roll in half and nibbled on the frayed edge. “I, too, will be cross if we get sugar on the books.” 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

You turned your nose away like a pompous brat, and Adrian laughed.

His grip loosened more, and your pulse started to slow against his gloved fingertips. 

“You,” Alucard said slowly, sluggishly. “Why?”

“I’ve come to do the work your worthless self has refused to do, you brute,” you sneered.

Alucard released you and watched you collapse. You rubbed your throat, hand shaking.

“I forgot how much of an asshole you were, alchemist.”

You glared up at him through tear-coated lashes. 

“I've never forgotten how much of a spoiled brat you were, Adrian.” 

“Alucard,” the dhampir corrected. 

“What?”

The blonde turned away and wandered to where he'd seen you puttering. “They call me ‘Alucard,’ now.”

You scoffed. “The opposite of Dracula, yes, of course, how very dramatic of you.” He heard you drag yourself back up to your feet. “It's a stupid name.”

“So is ‘(Name)’.” 

“Oh, fuck off. If you're going to insult me, at least make it worthwhile.” 

You stepped up beside him, straightening out your clothes and fixing your disheveled hair. Alucard glimpsed flashes of light-coloured markings against your skin before they vanished beneath your clothes. He had no mind to wonder what they meant, but he did find them pretty.

“What are you doing here?” He sighed, suddenly so, so defeated. “This isn't your home.”

You sucked your teeth. “It was, once.”

“Not anymore.”

“Your mother said I'd always be welcome.” You picked books off the floor and set them on the cracked desk. “‘Always’ hasn't ended just because she's passed.” 

Alucard's face twisted. “Don't speak of her. You have no right.”

“She was my mentor,” you said offhandedly. You threw a few more books onto the table. “I mourn her, too.”

“Yet you weren’t there when—”

“Neither were you.” 

The cold left Alucard's veins, exposing his raw nerves to the needling truths he had shunned in favour of shutting down, disappearing into the numbness of winter. What right did you have to remind him? What right did you have to reappear and give him grief? 

Thorns punctured the backs of his eyes. Alucard held his head and staggered back. He needed wine, and badly. 

“Just—don't touch anything,” he grumbled as he turned away, ignoring whatever it was you hissed back at him. The man didn't have the energy to start a losing war with you.

—

Time passed. Alucard ignored you. He even forgot you resided under the same roof as him unless he stumbled upon you in the kitchen or engine room. You kept to yourself for the most part, and he kept to himself. It wasn't horrible. 

You were horrible, however. You were nothing short of an entitled menace to society and, more personally, to Alucard himself. Still, somehow, Lisa had liked you enough to give you a room, and Dracula had found you promising enough to let you stay in that room, much to their only child's chagrin.

“‘He has nowhere else to go,’” Alucard muttered aloud, echoing the words his mother spoke back then. “‘He's alone.’” He stared up at the cellar's ceiling before taking a long drink of wine. “‘I'm sure he'll be your friend.’”

He thought of Sumi and Taka. He thought of Trevor and Sypha. He thought of empty shadows. And when he couldn't stand the thoughts any longer, he drank, and decided the castle was too small for all those ghosts and two living men, that it wasn’t allowed to be anything but cold and painful and lonely. Bonds, people, just made life agony. 

Alucard rubbed his eyes. His shoulders trembled from a heavy inhale. 

He needs to leave.

Resolve sobered him. Alucard stormed out of the cellar like he was about to face his father again, like his life was on the line along with humanity’s fate. In a way, it was; if he didn't deal with the nightmarish imp sullying his home, he'd be no use to humanity, he'd be in no position to be sober enough to ever do anything besides mourn and cry, and that couldn't last forever. 

The lab doors came into view with the quiet shuffling of odds and ends before he threw the doors open, and stepped inside with purpose. 

“You,” Alucard commanded. “You're to get out of my castle immediately lest I—”

He slowed to a halt and took the space in; the lab was warmly lit, and it no longer reeked of blood, sweat and magic, but instead of herbs and wood; a majority of the room was cleaned, or at least straightened out, and many of the books and equipment had been returned to their rightful places; what was left of the floors, walls and furniture were free of most filth, too. It almost seemed to masquerade as a home again.

You were even on the second floor, staring out the largest window with a cup of tea in your hand—a calming sight Alucard had taken in plenty of times in the past.

“You're cleaning,” Alucard said as he approached you. 

“Astute observation, vampire.” You sipped your tea as you stared out at the vast sea of green cedar. “I'm surprised you live.” 

“Tch. Not even Dracula could kill me,” Alucard huffed. “Wine doesn't stand a chance.” 

“I'm not so sure. That horrible stench coming off of you suggests you're already a walking corpse.” 

“So you came back to play the part of maid?” Alucard asked instead of biting back. 

Your nose twitched with the threat of a snarl. “Someone has to clean up this fucking mess and it's surely not going to be you.” 

“Well, I—”

“No, shut up.” You collapsed into a nearby armchair with a sigh. “You don't get to defend yourself.”

Alucard scoffed and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “I was going to sort things out.” 

“Before or after you drank yourself to near-death?” 

“You're still as miserable as I remember.”

“Oh, on the contrary, I think I'm much more miserable now.” Your gaze dropped. “This house is a mess.” 

Alucard scoffed, hackles rising. “Of course, it's the house you worry about.” 

You frowned. “Someone has to.” 

“Are you ever going to learn how to be pleasant?”

“I wasn't made to be pleasant; I was made to be exceptional.”

The dhampir laughed, earning a hot glare. “You mean by those mad heretics that attempted to open the gates of Hell over and over? Is that meant to be ‘exceptional’?” 

The muscles of your jaw tensed, and Alucard thought he heard the grind of teeth. Your family, whoever they were, were a weak spot for you. He knew that well.

“Fuck you,” you uttered like a pagan curse. “You've no idea what I've endured, what my makers were like.”

“My father is Dracula,” Alucard said, “he tried to kill me, killed thousands of humans, tried to end the world—”

“Yet you still live, and the world is still in-fucking-tact, isn't it? Maybe not your world, but the one that matters most.” You glowered out the window as you stood. “As far as I see it, you're rather lucky.” 

“Lucky?” He repeated, an edge of hysteria lifting his voice. “Really, you'd call this lucky?”

“It could have been a lot fucking worse.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“You wish.” 

You turned sharply and abandoned him. Alucard listened to your brisk footfalls disappear behind a collage of distant bookcases, some broken, some intact. The rifling and shuffling of wood and paper took over not too long after he lost sight of you. You'd so easily gone back to work. 

He's always been that way, Alucard remembered. Would rather putter about instead of dealing with people. His mother had never been anti-social. His father was, however. Maybe your shared distaste and skepticism about humans was what bonded you. Maybe humans made you so jaded, too. Maybe, in another world, they'd have made Alucard the same. 

He wandered after you, following phantom footsteps until the dull clapping of book covers became clear. You were mumbling under your breath, exasperated and annoyed as always with the one-sided argument you engaged in. It was another common sight; Alucard recalled finding you bickering with the air far too often in your shared younger days. Lisa never had an explanation for her son, but she had words of comfort to explain your quirk. 

I thought you didn’t remember your parents, Alucard wanted to say, but that look on your face, the one that stirred something in his chest and ate everything in his veins, snuffed out whatever flame of confidence he thought to face you with. 

–

Alucard let you be for a long while. He didn't know how long, per se, but at least…a while. Some time. Maybe a week or two. A month? Hard to tell.

When did I kill those two? He wondered dryly as he wandered back from yet another trip to the river. Feels like centuries ago…maybe longer. Is this what Father felt in that long, miserable life of his, until he met Mother? He didn't want to dwell on it long.

Instead, he dwelled on the man standing before the skewered warnings at the castle's front door. 

He could see your foot tapping and shifting to and fro—toe, heel, toe, heel—the same way you had as a younger teen. Alucard hated it, especially when your hard leather soles clacked against the hardwood like a woodpecker knocking on a tree. 

Alucard snorted. Woodpecker. That summed you up nicely.

“What are you smiling about, vampire?” You snapped. Alucard thought venom might shoot from your eyes or flame might spew from your mouth.

“Why are you staring at…those?” He asked instead. 

Your expression weakened into something a bit more innoxious. “I'm wondering why you needed them,” you said, turning to the gruesome display. “And if I should summon them again to kill them myself for whatever they've done.” 

Alucard couldn't look away from you. “‘For what they’ve done,’” he echoed, voice weak. “What makes you think they’ve done anything at all?”

“Adrian Tepes would not skewer someone if they weren't as damnable as the fucking night beasts staked in their company,” you decided, pointed words acrid with something intense.

A weak warmth spread across Alucard’s skin. The feeling tried to go deeper, back to somewhere long forgotten, but he didn’t allow it. How could he, after so many had taken that sacred place for granted?

“Oh.” The dhampir cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “I see.”

Your eyes flicked to him and pinned him in place. Yet, a moment later, your brows lost their creased tension while your stare abandoned its edge in favour of something kinder—or perhaps less lethal—as you gave him a quick once-over before your stare ultimately landed on the bare skin peeking out from beneath his jacket. 

Your eyebrows raised a little, smoothing out your chronic resting bitch face, and your eyes lidded so slightly. Alucard fought the urge to pull his jacket closed while at the same time resisting the impulse to throw his jacket off. You still did strange things to him.

“Where is your shirt?” You asked. 

Alucard cleared his throat. “I, ah. It's…complicated.” 

One of your brows quirked as you turned to face him, arms crossed. “I highly doubt that.”

Alucard could not find it in himself to admit his melancholy stopped him from doing anything—merely speaking such a thing into the world would be too much to bear.

“Fine,” you scoffed. “Then what's that scar?” 

“My father,” he said. “He—well. We had a disagreement, you could say.” 

You winced. “Dracula must have been far gone to hurt you.”

Alucard flickered a smile. “He was.”

Your lips parted, then sealed again, but you didn't look away. Alucard saw sparks of the you he used to find comfort in with the way you beheld him; you wore that thoughtful, gentle look whenever Adrian found himself in trouble or in pain. It warmed him to know you might not have changed much in that way.

Before your old friend could admire you much more, you turned and straightened out your cuffs with a neat, crisp flourish. “Well, that’s a shame. I quite liked your father.”

“I know.” 

Alucard couldn't find anything more to say. Yet you still stayed put as though you held out hope for him to say something more. But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t, and you were not known for having the patience of a saint.

Helpless, Alucard watched you disappear into the gaping mouth of the castle doorway. It was strange, he thought, how your silhouette seemed to meld with the shadows as soon as you stepped out of the sun. Then again, he was slightly out of his mind. 

Instead of following after you, he braved a glance at the rotting faces of Taka and Sumi. “He’s been here much longer than you two,” he murmured, eyes casting back to the ground. “And he hasn’t tried to trick me, kill me, or fuck me. Maybe this is how bonds are meant to forge.” A long, heavy sigh left him. “I don’t know.” 

Eventually, he found himself wandering the halls, his sad, half-filled pail sloshing beside him and occasionally spilling onto the hardwood. You'd yell at him for it, probably spew something about ruining the already battle-ruined floors, but the punishment didn’t seem too harrowing; at least he'd have company.

Then, he heard a noise, and followed it like a fool following a premonition. However, his quest actually had a prize at the end: you, messing about with pipes in the boiler room set beside the engine room. Your hands were speckled and smeared with grease and other shiny residue, yet your clothes were as clean as they could be with your shirt tucked properly and sleeves rolled up to reveal a stretch of skin marked with faint, blue sigils.

He stepped forward when you tried to twist a piece of pipe free with just your fingertips. Gently, he brushed your hand aside before gripping the measure of pipe and yanking it free with a single, easy motion. 

“You could have asked,” Alucard said, holding the pipe out for you. “Instead of ominously vanishing into the castle, I mean.”

Your nose scrunched as you took the piece with a dirtied rag and set it aside. “You seemed too busy wandering around, looking like a dejected donkey holding a bucket, and, last I checked, mules don't make for great conversation.”

Alucard set the bucket to the side. “Well, I'd rather champion the removal of pipes so you may keep your delicate, frail hands clean. Seems better than being a sad donkey, at the very least.” 

“Hm. You already need a dozen baths, I suppose, so this can't be too uncouth for you,” you said, leaning away from him and looking over some schematics. 

“Oh, well perhaps I should go bathe rather than help you, then.” 

“Ah-ah,” you scolded. “Your fate is sealed. Remove the next two pieces, vampire.” 

Alucard rolled his eyes but did as he was told, much to his chagrin; he'd rather have running, hot water again than constantly wandering to the river day by day, of course, but he'd have to survive a short stint of servitude under your cruel, critical rule for that to happen. It wouldn't have been worth it if he hadn’t been hoping for petty banter and a chance to ask questions. 

“Those markings,” he said, “I've been wondering about them.” 

“Hm.” 

“Care to explain?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Will you?”

You turned away, and Alucard stifled a sigh. Wonderful first attempt at an actual conversation. Almost as tactful as Belmont. He grimaced. God, please make me into anything but Belmont.

“Alchemical sigils,” you said, striking through Alucard’s thoughts. 

The dhampir's mind whirled for a snap. “Really,” he said. “I suppose I should have recognized them.” 

You hummed in maybe annoyance or agreement before turning back to the machine. “They're lesser-known. Most present-day alchemists are forgemasters, besides. They've little need for incantations when they've their chosen tools.”

Alucard leaned down to peer over your shoulder at whatever you were scrutinizing in the boiler. “Hm. Then your markings are a tool of sorts?” He wondered.

You frowned. “A curse may be more accurate.” 

Alucard glanced at you again, then to the back of your neck when another symbol—a familiar thing, one that looked like a star of sorts—caught his attention, and sparked a machination of curiosity and alarms in his mind. “A curse.”

Your hand clapped over the mark, and you turned to him, sharp and quick like you were expecting to parry.

Alucard raised a hand to surrender. “I didn't mean to—”

“Quiet,” you snapped. The word twisted strangely, like a distortion rippling in water before calming again. “Do not expect more from me than that which I give you. Do you understand?” Alucard nodded, and you seemed to calm. “Good. Now, just shut up and do as I say, yes? No more questions.” 

No more questions. Your demand only piqued his curiosity.

After helping you with what would become a lengthy, gruelling project, Alucard found his way to the rickety Belmont vault and wandered through aisles upon aisles of books. A worried sickness curled in his stomach and chest; last time he'd been down there, he'd brought two others with him.

He shook his head. Focus. You need a book about alchemy. Old alchemy, no less. 

There were plenty of books to choose from, but Alucard was quick to realize alchemy was not the core of your mystery, but the root; it was something related to it, something that used alchemical symbols and other sigils born from similar knowledge. 

And finding a hexagram etched into the crumbling spine of an old, leather book gave him a solid start. 

“Hm. Ars Goetia,” Alucard said aloud, tongue thoughtful with every syllable.

As though something answered him, the air hummed. It buzzed with life, reverberating with something kinetic and physical, like the bone-rattling depth of a choir. Books shuddered, earth shifted, debris fluttered from the roof—then, it all receded, drifting away like a midnight yawn and leaving nothing but a dissonant, distant ring in its wake. 

“Well,” Alucard exhaled, “that was interesting.” He sat himself in a mostly-intact chair, and opened the book. “I wonder if that was meant to ward me away. I suppose time will tell.”

---

Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment your thoughts or if you'd like to be tagged for the next part :'D

[imagine-notnatural]

More Task force 141 x Janitor Reader

It starts when you offer a neck massage to Rodriguez. They’d just returned from some mission, and all she and the rest of group did was complain about how sore they were. As shes a close friend with Michael, and a good friend of yours too, you decided to offer her relief. A quick massage, just while you had time between tasks and she had her own downtime.

You once done it absentmindedly when you stood behind Michael at a meeting. He sat on the bench in front of you, so you just simply rested your hands on his shoulders. Nothing over the top. However as the meeting progressed, he’d started feeling your hands gently squeeze his shoulders. Michael didn’t react, he didn’t move or give any indication that he felt what was going on; figuring you might stop the pleasant movements of your hands. This continued for another twenty minutes, by the time the meeting ended you’d thoroughly worked out all the kinks in his neck and shoulders, had gently run your hands through his hair enough times where his eyes had to fight to stay open, and left him in a daze.

Ever since, any time he’d feel your hands on his shoulders he’d still, hoping that you were entranced enough with whatever it was Bill(your boss) was talking about that you’d do it again.

“You can say no, Im just offering a service, you don’t have to tell me yes if you’re uncomfortable. Genuinely, I only offer because you seem like you need it” you say, awkwardly turning away from her as she seemed on the fence.

“Marisol, trust me, it’s good. You’ll probably get put to sleep. I call (Name) NyQuil behind their back because they nearly put me to sleep once-“

“Mikey what the fuck-“

Rodríguez laughed, “Sounds good, Thanks (Name) I really appreciate it.” Once she gave you the go ahead, you rounded behind her.

“You still good?”

She gave you a nod.

You started gently kneading the muscles at the base of her neck and worked down from there. The way the three of you were positioned was that Mikey (and you previously) had your backs facing the recreational rooms’ tv, and now you were able to face the tv with Marisol. Some reality tv show had caught your attention, and with time, the sounds from the screen and the show itself distracted you.

By the last comercial break, when you looked down you found Rodriguez was chin-to-chest. Her head rolling over to allow you to gently trace the base of her neck with your nails.

“You still okay?” You asked, chuckling when she grunted happily as her answer.

Just then, more of her squad came bounding in..

“Rodriguez we’ve been looking for you what are- Hey what’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” You respond, noting that Marisol had yet to lift her head and her eyes remained shut.

“Aw dude- Me next! My fucking back has been killing me!” Someone from outside the door said, when you turned to look it was another member of their squad.

“You want one? Twenty dollars for however long real housewives of Dubai is on-“ Mikey instantly sat up from the old couch, his arm outstretched and hand open. You instantly shot Michael a glare, while the others looked at him in disbelief.

“Man what-“

“Mikey I didn’t-“

“It’s worth it” Marisol said, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. She placed a hand over your hand own and gave you a quick thank you. She got up from the folding chair she’d been sat at and riled her shoulders. “It’s fucking worth it. Watch this,”

She made a show of rolling her shoulders and neck.

“Im gonna sleep like a fucking baby tonight. Ten out ten, will recommend ” She smiled and gave you another thank you. You were distracted by her smile, and didn’t hear what Mikey said next.

“So? You heard her, and you know Rodriguez doesn’t lie for shit- what do you say?” Michael smirked, hand still outstretched.The two men looked at each other before they looked back at you.

Still distracted by Rodriguez’s smile, you didn’t notice when the men pulled out their wallets.

“You got change for a fifty?”

“I do”

You turned to see the men exchange bills in front of you before offering you twenty each.

“Im not- I mean- uh-“

You sighed as they gave you a pleading look.

I mean you’re a college student paying out of state tuition fees AND the majority of check went into rent and bills… Having a bit of extra cash is like totally in your best interests…

“Who’s going first?”

And that’s how you became a part time masseuse.

It was a well kept secret. Michael had taking to managing the operation, his payment being on demand head scratches. He’d made it so only people vouched by someone you’d already worked on or by you or Michael personally, would you even consider. It was all kept on the down low so that you wouldn’t end up in some sort of trouble, you accepted payment in cash, goods, and trades of services. And everyone was kept in check by some sort of code of honor they’d established amongst themselves.

Marisol and Michael and taken it up to personally warn (threaten) everyone that if you got caught and didn’t give massages anymore they wouldn’t take it lightly. (Blah blah blah breaking knee caps blah blah blah Marisol is so creative!)

And sure there were physical therapists on base, but for whatever reason you seemed to excel in relaxing people to the point of sleep. That’s what people really came to you for.

One night when you were on graveyard shift, you recieved a text from Michael.

TMNT: Hey, just fyi sgt MacTavish and Garrick r gonna head over to you soon

You: ??

TMNT: The ones w the thiq thighs n fat asses

You: be more specific this is yam city we’re in partner

TMNT: SCOTLAND FOREVAA n the guy w the cap from the 141

You: yOU MEAN KYLE?! ur lYING!! HOW?!

You: who couched ?!

You: vouched*

TMNT: Marisol

You: Ah :o

TMNT: Yeah ;)

You: (ToT)

You: Bye then

TMNT : toodlelu~

You waited nervously for the two sergeants in the rec room. You eased your nerves by scrolling through the streaming services on the TV. Just as you had finally settled on a series, there was a knock of the opened door.

“So yur’ NyQuil?” The Scotsman was the first to enter, an inquisitive eye as he looked over your humble single chair set up. His resting smile, made your stomach do flips as you watched him look you over

“ a wee bit jumpy no?” Soap smiled, getting side eye from his fellow sergeant who was still outside the door.

“Fucking Michael- Yes but no, don’t call me that. It’s (Name), the dipshit trying to get the name to stick is my friend…” you fought to maintain eye contact with those bright blue eyes of his

The Englishmen made his appearance soon after,

“ So it is you! What? Threatenin’ us to keep clean wasn’t enough for you, you’d to start knocking people out?” Kyle walked in with a grin.

“Well, you’re some big hotshot guy so when I couldn’t get to you I had to find an outlet.” You chuckled,

“So Marisol let y’all in on the operation. What’s going on fellas?”

“Near dam dislocated my shoulder when training last week and haven’t been able to sleep it off,” Johnny answered, tentatively rolling said shoulder. You nodded then turned to Kyle,

“Well, truth is I’ve just been tired.” You nodded again,

“Alright then gentlemen, I’ll get started with-“

“Call me John, Bonnie”

“Okay, I start with John and I’ll get to you after.” You gesture for Johnny to sit in the folding chair beside you, “there’s snacks- well the layout is almost the same as your own personal rec. room so you’ll know where snacks are. Kick back on the couch, watch the movie and n’” you turn slightly to see how much more of the movie remained… an hour and forty five minutes.

“Like 45 minutes I’ll have y’all switch.”

The two men looked at each other briefly before stepping to their spots. Gaz on the couch and soap in the chair.

“Oh can I actually get you turned the other way?” You ask, Johnny quickly stands to turn around and sit as you positioned him.

“Okay, now, just let me know if anything hurts in the not good way, okay? I’m going to get started on your neck and then work from there. Sound good?” You asked, placing a bit of scentless lotion on your hands.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” Kyle couldn’t help but turn away from the screen to see you get started on Johnny. As you couldn’t see his face, Johnny scoffed lightly and gave Kyle a small smile at your words. Chin restringing on his arms, Johnny began speaking

“Nah, I’m sure’ve had worse, ‘think I can handle-“

Kyle had the pleasure of seeing his teammate’s face freeze and contort into something between pained and relieved-

“Jesús, Mary, n’ Joseph, the grip on you-“ Johnny grunted, hiding his face in his arms. From his angle, Kyle could see the way your thumbs dug into the base of his neck.

Gaz laughed, “What mate? You good?”

“If it hurts I’ll stop, just say the word,” You said, seemingly unfazed,

“Don’t you bloody dare-“ He muttered, leaning his weight into your hold. He began muttering phrases under his breath, some unfamiliar to you and other indiscernible.

“That good huh?” Kyle smirked,

Johnny, who’s face was buried in his arms only grunted at muttered “-bile your heid” or at least that’s what you managed to understand.

“It’s alright, it’s a compliment to me, yeah?”

Johnny made a noise of agreement

The three of you laughed it off, continuing with light conversation, soon enough you got into your rhythm.

See? nothing to be afraid of! Just passing the time and getting some of that green!

“So how did you find you had this talent of your’s, (Name)?”

“It was just something I did since I was younger. I’d usually only do it for my family but I haven’t..” you paused, thinking of how to continue.

“Ay, dinae stop I paid good money for dis’” Johnny joked sleepily, his breath had begun to steady and his voice sounded more muffled, like his mouth wasn’t moving at all. You chuckled and carried on.

“Relax sergeant, I’m not stopping.” You moved back from his broad shoulders to the base of his neck. You could’ve sworn he’d began purring as your fingers began raking through his hair and working at the junction between his neck and skull.

“But yeah, just something I’ve always done.”

Kyle nodded, taking note of your hesitation but not commenting. You all remained in a comfortable silence afterwards, the movie playing in the background.

Before you knew it, the forty five minutes were up. Your phone buzzed on the counter and you lifted your hands though no without immediate protest.

“Timers’ rigged-“

“No sir. Go ahead and get up, I’ve got to do your friend next before I head out for my actual work. “

“Get out the chair bruv- it’s my turn.”

He only grunted.

Johnny groaned but rose this time, he tentively lifted his arm and rolled it in its socket,

“Braw Job la-“

“Move!”

“Cannae you see I’m going ya jobbie?!”

You laughed, not entirely sure what the Scot was saying but understanding the fact he was pleased with the results. Johnny grumbled annoyed as he laid back on the coach,

“N’ I was falling asleep too!” He complained halfheartedly, placing his feet in the arm of the couch.

“Ay mate but you were cutting into my time.”

“Ah Git Awa’ and Bile Yer Heid,” John huffed, watching as Kyle took his seat in your chair. “Alright same rules, let me know when something’s not working for you or hurts in a bad way, ‘Kay Garrick?”

“Garrick? What happened to Kyle? You cross with me?”

He’d turned his head back slightly, his expression ameused.

“This is a professional setting Mr. Garrick, I’ve got to be professional.” A smug smile pulled at your lips. You placed your hands on his shoulders to begin.

“So this is where you two disappeared to.”

You turned around to trace the source of the unfamiliar voice. You were lead to the doorway- oh hey it’s the grim reaper

“ AH!”

By now both men in the room, had begun stifling their snickers.

“We have to stop meeting like this!I mean you no offense but you’re one scary S-O-B you know that” You swalllowed, raising your head from beside Kyle.

He didn’t respond, but telling from his eyes and the minuscule movement where his mouth would be, you figured he was amused.

“Stalking us’ Lt.? And here we thought yee couldn’ stand us,”

He giant of the group of giants found his place in the corner of the room, he leaned against the counter and allowed for Johnny to yap away.

Meanwhile you’d restarted your timer hesitantly, starting again and hoping that the sound of John’s voice and the tv kept your voice out of earshot.

You leaned over slightly, just enough for Kyle to hear you. ( And for a tingle down his spine n heat reach the tip of his ears)

“He won’t kill me right? He looks the like kinda of guy that could kill me.”

“I mean he could, but he won’t….‘Least I hope…”

“Fuck right off then Garrick, if it wasn’t for the money you paid me I’d leave right now.”

“So you’re telling me you’re only here for money? I thought you liked me?”

“Just because you’re hot doesn’t mean you can’t be insufferable, sergeant. I’ve gotta keep the bills paid somehow.”

“You think I’m hot?” He smirked,

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “- and insufferable, don’t forget that part. It’s key that you understand that’s more important .”

The two of you continued to bicker, not noticing that the Lieutenant and other sergeant had been watching the two of you interact.

“Lively one ye?” Soap turned slightly to get a look at Ghost’s expression. Despite being hiding under that skull themed baklava of his, Johnny felt he’d seen enough and been through enough with the man to get a general feel for him.

Ghost took a moment to take in the scene.

Kyle trying to rile you up while being forced multiple times to keep his head facing forward. A broad smile on his face and the sound of his laugh just slightly louder than the television.

You, who eventually forced him to plant his face into his arms so that the whole ordeal would be over with. A smile tugging on your own lips no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

He then turned back to Johnny, who watched the two of you as well. The look on his face seeming content, his eyes following the way Kyle’s eyes lit up and switching off to the way your lips moved when you smiled and spit back another comeback. There was a heat to it all but.. The whole scene was so… domestic. Ghost quickly turned away, instead focusing on how you decided to torture Gaz, completely giving up on the relaxation part of the massage and instead aiming for as many weak spots as you could find.

Lively indeed.

[letsyapthenightaway]

Nico Hischier x plus size!reader

Not grammar or spell checked.

I still feel like I can't get Nico right but I wanted to post him.

Nico Hischier seems like he gives amazing cuddles. He just looks so sweet and cozy! I'm adding him to the list of players I think would like a plus size woman. I feel like he would admire you so much! He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars even before dating.

He wouldn't be touchy like Jack but he itches for it. Taps his fingers on whatever he can so they stay off of you, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. Looks at you a couple times almost like he is reading you, trying to figure you out. If he notices you are leaning into him a lot he would take the chance to wrap his arm around you. I feel like he wouldn't be much of a squeezer, only occasionally squeezing your plush hips.

I feel like he would be right in the middle of how I describe the two Hughes devils. Not as blunt and outgoing as Jack but definitely not as shy as Luke. Definitely one of those situations when everyone knows he likes you except you.

The first date would probably be at a bakery or something similar. Maybe even a small activity together as long as it screams cozy because he just gives me that vibe. I'm torn here, I wanna say he is a calm at home guy but I also feel like he'd try to rope you up in some outdoor activities. If you aren't an athletic person he'd forget that you can't keep up with him. Or just can't do things because of being bigger. I feel like he would forget you are plus size, he doesn't see you for your size.

If you feel insecure he wouldn't sugar coat anything. Would reassure you by telling you how he sees you in his eyes but won't downplay what you think or feel. Of course he doesn't want you to feel insecure, he thinks your fucking gorgeous! But he can see why you feel like that, people aren't nice. He just makes sure to love and appreciate you more openly.

I feel like he doesn't notice when he speaks in his first language. He is so comfortable with you he will just start talking away. It's not until he sees your face that he's like, oh. Especially when sleepy and cuddling, he gives me big spoon vibes. His head would be in your shoulder, eyes closed, and mumbling away. He'd be so happy when he sees you actually understanding him or responding to him. Even if it's just a couple words he is celebrating them.

The team's favorite past time is teasing you both.

I feel like a fan would make a "Mama y Papa" TikTok.

[txttletale]

Are you enjoying Wrath of the Rightous companions? I have a soft spot for Seelah, Lann and Nenio.

i like seelah a lot pathfinder wotr first crpg ever to have a paladin character who is actually likeable and not an obnoxious fascist. ive never met lann in my life though i immediately threw him in the garbage to hang out with my cool friend wenduag who is my favourite companion by a long shot. nenio is okay, she feels like kind of a gimmick character but maybe completing her quest will flesh her out some. i like ember even if her personality is comically at odds with the gameplay (everyone can be redeemed, Smile. Casts fireball and burns 10 guys skins off)

i also actually really like daeran which is shocking to me bc he's an archetype i generally loathe (vampire-coded angsty rude sadboy). i really appreciate the little interparty interactions when you camp, the feeling of these characters having distinct relationships with each other as well as the pc really goes a long way to making them all pretty endearing. but yea overall the character writing is definitely what's keeping me in this for the long haul. i like all the companions i've met and kept in my party except sosiel (boring) and camellia (boring and also whatever her twist is its so staggeringly telegraphed that it stretches suspension of disbelief belief nobody in the party has said 'so youre obviously an evil sicko' yet)

(rejected from my party: lann. sorry lann you're nto goiing to compare to a cute evi lgirl with spider legs. And regill for showing up and being like Hi im regill i love war crimes)

[procyonloser]

(this was inspired by me watching got scenes)

Lucifer could feel the cold biting into his skin, until it hit his bones, but there was little reprieve from it - no comfort in between warm layers of silk and cloth. Just the vastness of the Great Hall, and roaring fires that did little but remind him of what he didn't have. When he was young, a boy playing between pillars and hiding behind statues to listen to his father speak and rule, he'd not felt it then.

It'd been hours of council meetings, of paperwork, and of hearing from his people, their problems and worries. The winter had been long, food was running slim, and their coffers were beginning to dry up. Lucifer had a beloved wine that had not touched his lips since the beginning of summer, and he missed it greatly, though at the very least his stomach was still full.

There was a sudden commotion as one of his commanders marched into the room, followed by lines of soldiers, all with flowing red capes that depicted his sigil on the back. Lucifer barely recognized most of them, he'd grown too old to know every single one of his soldiers.

"My Lord, raiders attempted to attack the most northern district of Pentagram. Unfortunately for them, one of our garrisons were making a routine patrol through the neighboring village. They were able to respond, and kill many of those that were part of the attack. We were able, however, to capture a man who seems to be their king." His commander spoke, after a deep bow before his king. Lucifer felt his eyebrows raise; it'd been a long few months of raiders stealing grain, weapons, lives, women.

"The raiders have no king, only distinct leaders of different factions." Carmilla spoke from her seat alongside Lucifer's council. "You can stop one, but another will arise. Don't mistake one success as a war now won."

Lucifer appreciated her words and experience in the matter, but it didn't change the success they had attained. He nodded his head at the woman, before turning to the commander.

"We will celebrate your success, but the Lady Carmine speaks truth - we shall not grow complacent, make certain to continue patrols in the area. It's possible that his men that fled or survived will want revenge."

At that, the commander made a queer expression, uneasy by something Lucifer said.

"Do you take issue with your king?" Lucifer asked after a moment, amusement on his tongue. He was used to being questioned, not the inspiring figure that his lady wife had once been. They saw him as weak.

"No, my Lord. It's... All but their king, their leader, whatever we may call him... They're all maidens."

Silence spread around the busy room.

"The raiders are... women?" Lucifer asked slowly, making certain he understood what was being said. The commander nodded briefly, and suddenly there was a flurry of whispers and gossip throughout the Lords and Ladies in the hall, and even amongst his council they seemed stunned. What monster would force young girls to fight their wars?

"Bring in their leader," Lucifer ordered.

The commanders dragged in a man in chains, and they needed more than one to do so. The man was tall, but not thin like those who struggled to find even corn on which to eat. There was no gauntness to his face, just a few bruises. He had brown hair, and wore a mix of furs and clothing that had most certainly been stolen from someone of higher standing. He'd woven fine royal purple fabric around his waist as what Lucifer could only interpret as an insult.

But, he was handsome, in his own way. Lucifer had taken many men to bed who were far less attractive, and they were all too eager to please their king. They were simple, easy things that filled a gap since his wife had passed. But, they weren't interesting, they weren't fun.

"I don't bow," the man said with a cocky grin as he reached the throne. The commander responded by kicking his knees out from under him, until the man fell. The look he sent the man promised a violent and bloody death, as though the raider wasn't the one in chains.

"That's enough," Lucifer said tiredly, gazing down at the man. "What is your name and title?"

"Adam, the First Man." He said instantly, to giggles in the crowd.

"Curious, I seem to be older than you - how exactly did you come by that title?" Lucifer asked with some humor, which got him a sharp grin in return.

"Cus none of you are real fuckin' men. You don't fight, you don't fuck, you just live in pretty castles. Look at you, a small man in all your fancy things. Pathetic. I bet you couldn't kill a hart, let alone a man." Adam jeered at him, and the crowds began to murmur.

"And yet you steal these pretty things, you rape, you kill." Lucifer shot back, getting to his feet, though it did little but demonstrate their height difference. "It seems to me as though you desire life of the gentleman, while you behave as a beast, first man."

Adam spit at his feet. "I don't rape, that's your soldiers."

Lucifer prickled at the implication. "You kidnap women and force them to fight for you."

"I do no such thing, they are offered the chance to live a more fulfilling life, and they come to me willing." Adam answered with a cocky smile. "You know, don't you? Little king? Since your dead wife was the one this nation truly feared, and you're just a placeholder."

Lucifer stared at him, before looking at his commander. "Remove his bindings. Don't question me. Remove them, and hand him your sword."

The room slowed to a stop, faces turning pale, confused. His council began to speak up, though those who knew him best kept quiet.

"If I best you, you will be my pet, you will no longer be a man. You will live out your days here, in the castle." Lucifer spoke easily, pulling his own sword from the hilt. Adam looked amused, eager, a bloodlust in his eyes. "If you kill me, well... You've killed the king. You'll be a legend, a hero, and everyone will know your name until the end of days."

"Deal." Adam breathed out, grabbing the sword eagerly. His stance was untrained, but strong. Proof he was a strong fighter.

But, Lucifer had been underestimated his entire life.

And he'd killed many men much larger.

He'd enjoy keeping Adam around.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 blanket fort : harry potter

▰▰ pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

harry's stressed while staying at grimmauld place, y/n tries to distract him by planning a cozy sleepover night.

author: this is me begging for more harry appreciation like actually please

He's stressed. She knows. He has been in a bad mood the whole week, snapping at people, storming out of dinner and staying in his room most of the time to avoid everyone.

The thing is, she can't really blame him. Grimmauld place seems to have that effect on people, the place is dusty and dark, full of tension because of the war. This has taken a toll on everyone, but mostly on Harry.

She's seen Harry going against powerful wizards and defy death multiple times, but watching him crumble under the weight of the upcoming war breaks her heart. She knows that if anyone deserves a break, it's Harry. And she's determined to give it to him.

It's certainly difficult, it's not like she can wave her wand and make his problems disappear. She would if she could, but it's simply not possible. But maybe she can provide a distraction, something simple to get him to forget about his problems at least one night.

She's eating her dinner in between an order meeting, Sirius and Molly screaming at eachother for whatever reason, when the idea comes in. Her face lights up, and she practically wolfs down her food just so she can excuse herself from the table.

Harry didn’t have the easiest or happiest childhood, she knows that. And, as his best friend, she always makes sure to provide fun moments were she can make amends for everything he lacked for in his childhood. She's sure a blanket fort is a perfect way to keep doing that.

It takes her a long time because she hasn't build a blanket fort in forever, but after maybe an hour, she finally has a perfect fort that she knows for sure won't fall down because she begged George to use his magic to help her since she can't use her wand outside of Hogwarts.

She raids the house for pillows to have inside her fort, and she even ends up finding fairy lights, which is a total shocker to find on that gloomy house but at least it helps her to bring a comforting vibe to the fort. Then, after arguing with Kreacher for at least ten minutes, she was able to find some snacks and make some hot cocoa.

It's late in the night and everybody else has gone to sleep when she finally knocks on Harry's door, not even waiting for him to answer before she cracks the door open, slightly peeking inside. "Harry? come with me for a second, please"

She knows he's not asleep yet, so it isn't surprising when he replies. "y/n i'm not really in the mood for.."

He's not able to finish his sentence before she interrupts him. "Come on, humor me for just five minutes, I promise you'll like it. If you hate it, I'll let you sulk in peace, deal?"

Harry huffs, but he's immediately standing up from his bed. In the past few days, she's the only one he hasn't snapped at. Harry can't help it, she is far too sweet even when she's being pushy.

Before he knows it, she's already taking his hand and pulling him with her through the dark, guiding him up the creaky stairs. When they reach the room she has been staying in, Harry almost expects a half lecture about talking about his feelings just like the one Hermione gave him.

Instead, when the door cracks open and she pulls him inside, he stops short once he sees what she's made of her room. His eyes immediately fall on the fort, blankets dropped over chairs and tugged into corners, glowing fairy lights hanging from the edges, pillows piled in the middle making it look like some cozy nest.

"What is this?" Harry asks quietly, taking a tentative step towards it while y/n closes the door.

"a blanket fort, obviously." She replies with a grin. "we're having a no-war-allowed sleepover, the only rule is that we are not able to mention war at least just for tonight."

Harry looks at her, his face a mix between confusion and surprise. He wants to tell her that this is ridiculous and go back to being alone in his room, but then he sees her smile and his heart skips a beat. She worked so hard for this, only for him, so he doesn’t find it in himself to be the one ruining it.

"This is just ridiculous" he mutters, but he still steps inside and sinks into the pillows.

"You're smiling." she points out, feeling her chest swell with pride once she's able to see the first smile from him in weeks.

"I'm not." He says even though his smile only gets bigger when she settles down beside him.

He doesn’t even know how, but she pulls two mugs from behind the blankets and offers him one. The mug is still warm when he takes it, and he gives her a little appreciative smile when he sips and the taste of hot cocoa fills his mouth.

They fall silent for just a moment until Harry talks again. "Can you tell me what the order discussed today at dinner? Did they-"

"Ah-ah" y/n interrupts, holding up a finger with mock sternness. "What did I say? No war talk tonight, it's a rule."

Harry huffs, but he doesn’t try to push it, because he knows how determined she can be when she wants to. "So what are we supposed to talk about, then? quidditch? school?"

She wrinkles her nose playfully. "No. How about this? We're making stories about the people in the order. You know, the lives they would have if they were... normal people."

Harry stares at her, amusement flashing across his face. "Are you serious?" He asks, even though he's one hundred percent sure she is.

"No! Sirius is asleep." She jokes, this is obviously a joke she picked up from Sirius himself. "Come on, It'll be fun! i'll go first." her face lights up as she hugs a pillow against her chest. "I think professor Lupin would totally own a bookstore. A cozy bookstore pilled with all kinds of books, and he would have a cat or two."

He rolls his eyes, laughing when she falls silent and gives him a pointed look. "Okay, I'll try. Let's see... Molly would own a bakery." He begins. "She would spend hours trying crazy recipes and she would most likely end up burning some things around, but people end up loving everything she bakes. She doesn't let anyone go without a free treat."

y/n seems delighted as she claps her hands together. "Yes! that's totally spot on, see? I knew you could do it!" It's her turn now, so she pauses for a second before smiling again. "If Sirius wasn't stuck here, he would be some kind of rockstar. He would travel around, throwing crazy shows and even crazier parties. And you know he would totally own a motorcycle, too."

"He would." Harry laughs for a moment until he falls silent. She thinks it's only him trying to come up with some other story, but then she's able to see the moment his face falls, smile disappearing. "You know, if things were normal, my parents..."

He doesn’t have the strenght to keep going, but he doesn’t have to. She knows. If Voldemort didn’t exist- if the order were just normal people, Harry's parents would still be alive. He wouldn't be the chosen one. He wouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She wants to tell him something, anything to try and make everything hurt a little less, but she knows no amount of words could ever do that. Instead, she scoots closer and wraps her arms around him in a hug. At first, Harry being Harry, he stiffens but after a long second, he melts into her.

"I'm sorry." She whispers once his forehead falls on her shoulder. He knows she's not apologizing for anything she's done, but rather for everything he's endured.

For a while, they sit there, silently embracing eachother. She rubs soothing circles on his back, her heart breaking at the thought of not being able to do anything to ease the pain.

She should talk. Tell him something, but she knows Harry, he won't want to open up about his emotions. At least not yet. The last thing he needs now is more sorrow, he just needs a way out of it, if only for a couple of hours.

"You know" she starts, her voice light. She knows she has to do this for him. "Maybe in another life, Snape runs a hair oil empire. He's definitely the type to use that rubbish on himself. That's why his hair's so slimy."

Harry seems caught off guard at first as he pulls back to look at her, but then a laugh escapes his lips. "His slogan would be something like 'Smooth as silk, greasy as a cauldron bottom.' and he has the ad campaigns nailed down."

y/n laughs so hard that she has to cover her mouth, fearing that Kreacher would hear and appear just to scold them. "If Snape hears you say that, he'll make sure to leave you bald."

"Better bald than greasy." He jokes, and she's just glad to see him happy again.

And just like that, the fort is filled with laughter again, the heaviness retreating a little while longer as they share stories and joke about members of the order, allowing themselves to forget about the upcoming war for just a while.

Harry had forgotten how easy it is to talk to y/n, she's always able to see right through him and ease his pain. No matter what he's going through, she's always able to get a laugh out of him. Around her, Harry can just be himself- not the chosen one, just Harry.

She's laughing about some kind of childhood story she's sharing with him, and he just can't help but stare at her for a little too long.

"What?" She ask in between giggles when she caughts him staring.

He shakes his head, a soft smile grazing his lips. "Nothing. Just... Thank you."

She tilts her head a little. "Why?"

"For this. I didn’t realize how much I needed this." he admits, feeling lighter than he has felt in weeks. "you just- you have a way of making everything feel better."

"You deserve it, Harry. You deserve more than this." She smiles, taking his hand to give it a soft squeeze.

"You're amazing, you know that?" The way she looks at him when the words leave his lips, the shine in her eyes, it makes his heart race.

And he knows it then. He loves her. Always has, like it was something so natural for him to do that he didn’t even realize it until he has to sit there and watch the blush creeping on her face. He loves her.

"I mean, I'm pretty proud of this fort—" She starts, but her words are cut off when his lips meet hers.

It's unexpected, the feelings of his lips takes her breath away for a long second until she's suddenly leaning into the kiss. Time seems to stand still for Harry once he allows himself to get lost in that exact moment, in the way her lips feel so soft, sweet against his. So comforting.

It's in that moment that he realizes, this isn't just a distraction. It isn't just a fleeting moment to forget about war. It's more than that. She is more than that.

She's his anchor. When the world feels like it's falling apart, when the weight of it all feels unbearable, she's always there— steady, unwavering, like some kind of safety net. Always waiting for Harry to fall into the comfort of her arms.

When he pulls apart, y/n is ready for him to start panicking, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he lets himself lean into the comfort she offers. He presses his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and relaxing to the sounds of her slow breathing.

"Stay." He says suddenly, and she's not sure if he's asking for her to stay tonight or just forever.

But anyways, she replies. "I wasn't planning on leaving."

And for the first time in his life, Harry believes it's okay to share the weight with someone.

[sirhamburrger]

UNRAVEL (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (detective x detective, for day two of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which you grow to love your case partner in all his unconventionality. ━☆ wc: 1272 || tags/cw: gn!reader, bachira is off the walla crazy, lover boy x no. 1 hater || event m.list ━☆ i'm lowkey very proud of this!! bit long but whatever

you absolutely hated meguru bachira. 

he had risen through the ranks of the organisation, making detective in just under five years. you, however, did not have as easy a time, so everything about him ended up grating on your nerves; his too-loud laugh, his tendency to skip over vital steps in the investigation process, and his penchant for inappropriate jokes at even more inappropriate timings, just to name a few.

you’ve always been serious about your job, focused, meticulous. and he was... well, a walking distraction. the way he’d spin around in his stupid swivel chair, mutter nonsense about "feeling the rhythm of the case," and throw out stupidly outlandish theories at task force meetings? it did nothing but made your blood boil.

but you’re stuck with him as your case partner now, and there’s nothing you can really do about it.

"hey, what do you think about this case? i'm sensing some kinda weird vibe here," bachira says mysteriously, a grin plastered across his face as he expertly spins his pen between his fingers. "maybe the suspect’s hiding in plain sight, right? you know, like a ninja!"

you stare at him, simultaneously annoyed and baffled. "a… a ninja? seriously?"

he tilts his head, the usual playful glint present in his eyes. "hey, don't knock it 'til you try it! you gotta think outside the box." he pauses, looking over at you with a grin that’s somehow both mischievous and... genuine? "you've got the serious part down, but if we don't play around a little, we're never gonna crack this."

you roll your eyes, but part of you can’t help but be intrigued. no one else on the team has been willing to entertain his unconventional methods, but somehow, his outlandish thoughts feel intuitive. right, almost. 

and despite how chaotic he is, things start to come together. as the days pass, you find yourself drawn to the rhythm of his mind. he’s got this way of looking at things from every angle, as though solving a case is a game he’s not willing to lose. you can’t deny that his unorthodox approach is starting to make sense, especially when the results speak for themselves. it’s like his chaos brings clarity to your logic.

it all comes pouring out one night, when you find yourself alone in the office with him after hours, when everyone else has already gone home. he’s unusually silent, like he knows you need the silence for clarity of mind. you thank him - in your head, of course, because you’d rather die than admit you appreciate him.

"you know," you say finally, breaking the silence, "i thought you'd be the death of me when we started this case."

he looks up, and a knowing smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"but now you’re kinda starting to like me, huh? and that scares you?"

you make a face, refusing to admit it to him, but you both know the truth. it’s obvious you’ve warmed up to him, grown to appreciate his bizarre brilliance. because there’s something almost beautiful about the way he sees the world, and you think you might be seeing it, too.

"maybe," you say quietly, and though you don’t dare to say it aloud, a small part of you is slowly beginning to fall for him - not just for his methods, but for who you now know him to be. 

bachira grins toothily. "knew it."

“not the part about me being scared, though.” you glare at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. but there’s a warmth in your chest now, one that you think might have been missing before.

finally, after weeks of hard work, it all clicks. bachira’s wild theories, your steady persistence, and a little bit of luck - together, you had cracked the code and closed the case. it wasn’t the suspect’s usual behavior that had given them away, but something subtle, something hiding in plain sight, just as bachira had suggested from the beginning. a small detail, overlooked by everyone else, had been staring you in the face the whole time.

"told you," bachira says, flashing his signature confident grin as you both stare at the final piece of evidence, relief washing over you like a gentle coastal wave. "sometimes you just gotta let your natural instincts do the work."

you can’t suppress your smile even if you try. he’s right, irrevocably so. it hadn’t been about following the rules, or sticking to the traditional methods - it had been about seeing things differently. and, somehow, in the process, you’d come to appreciate his way of thinking. even if you didn’t fully identify with or understand it.

he plops down in the chair across from you when you get back from ego's office, completely unbothered by the chaos still lingering in the room. he looks over at you, a serious expression replacing his usual playfulness. you stare back, curious. 

"hey," he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual. "ego called me into his office today."

“oh? what did he tell you?”

“he told me about your application.”

oh, crap.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter. the feeling of his rejection stings just as much as the tears welling up in your eyes. “i shouldn’t have sent it in without asking you first.”

“i mean…” his voice trails off, and he looks at you almost tenderly. “i didn’t know you wanted me as your permanent investigation partner. it’s honestly a huge compliment.”

you let out a watery chuckle. “are you serious? rin itoshi wants to partner up with you. rin freaking itoshi.”

“but you’re the best,” he insists.

you swipe at your eyes quickly. “way to let me down easy, i guess. thanks for being nice about it, though.”

“who said i was declining?”

“wait - really?” you perk up, eyes widening. “you want to be my investigation partner?”

he nods silently, and you notice his hand is almost brushing yours. he hesitates, reaching out to take your hand. in a decision that horrifies you, you don’t stop him.

“i want to be a lot more than that.”

and you think you might just swoon with how undeniably serious he looks in this moment, and maybe laugh a little too. you raise an eyebrow in mock surprise, feigning ignorance. "whatever do you mean?"

he leans in a little closer, clearly amused. "how about dinner? jist you and me. i think it’s time i take you out - somewhere nice, y’know. somewhere with no crime scenes, no paperwork, just... us."

you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. he’s for real, isn’t he? and despite all your stubbornness, your initial reluctance to admit any kind of admiration for him, you realized you want this. you want him.

"bachira," you murmur, your voice a little softer than even you expected, "is this you asking me out on a date?"

he gasps dramatically, clutching his chest as though he’s been wounded. "what? i’m heartbroken! i thought we were already dating!"

you roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. 

"fine, meguru. take me out to dinner. but only because you solved the case, genius."

he grins triumphantly, "yes!" and then, with a gleam in his eyes, he adds, "it’s a date then, detective. i’ll be on my very best behavior. maybe."

as you both stand, gathering your things, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your heart at what is to come. tonight, and in the days ahead. maybe things aren’t as black-and-white as you once thought. and maybe, just maybe, you’ve discovered something between the two of you - worth more than solving any case.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[mybworlds]

Part of your world

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: use of you, you’re a mermaid, I won't give any details except for nice long legs and very long hair, nudity, violence (a little?), use of both pov. If I missed smt please let me know.

Summary: Marcus Acacius and you meet. You immediately catch his attention, including Geta's.

Masterlist

A/N Thank you so much for the amount of love and support, it means a lot. It's a very long chapter, sorry, guys so take your time 🙏🏼 Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Taglist @harriedandharassed; @orcasoul; @blazeflays; @ijustlovemensm; @duck-duck-goose2; @blacksnape123

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

That night Marcus lies on his side with one hand under his cheek, staring out of his bedroom window at the star-filled sky. He didn't sleep a wink. He tossed and turned in bed several times, but the god of sleep wasn't on his side that night.

Tired of not being able to sleep, at the first light of dawn, Marcus puts on his tunic again and sneaks off to the beach. Luckily none of his servants are awake yet or else at least a couple would have run to his side preventing him from being alone for a while.

The sand is still cold at that hour, the wind barely ruffles his hair and dress, the sea is barely choppy. It's a picture of heaven and Marcus needs something like this to help him relax and keep the anxiety and fear in the pit of his stomach at bay.

The man thinks back to the previous evening. It went well, but inevitably he and Lucilla discussed their future union. She accepts it, but with rules. She wants to be able to continue being who she is, she wants to enjoy her birth privileges and she wants to be able to defend her ideas, whatever they may be. She knows that theirs is only a political union and that there will certainly never be any kind of emotional involvement between them and that they will probably not see each other except during the first night of their wedding, then everyone will do their part certainly, but without any other type of obligation. Marcus then told her that the two emperors suspect she is conspiring against them, but he did so with the intent of warning her not to expose herself too much. The woman maintained a composed calm, telling him that she would do everything discreetly and that he had no reason to fear for her or for himself as her husband.

Marcus can't help but feel forced to endure all of this. The truth is that he doesn't care about politics, marriage and all that. He just wants to be free and fight for his ideals of freedom and justice, but no one seems to care about these values. Everyone seems to have forgotten them and this always makes him feel out of place.

He sighs sadly when something, or rather someone, catches his attention: it's a girl, she's lying on her side, her hair falls partly on her face, on her shoulders, along her back covering her nakedness. She is still partly hidden among the waves of the sea that wet her exposed skin and make some locks of her hair wave. He quickly approaches, lifting her into his arms and carrying her a little further from the shore.

When they are far enough away, he sits on his knees in the wet sand, brushes her hair away from her face, and recognizes you. Anyone could have understood his astonishment at seeing the same girl from Sicily, the girl he himself had tried in vain to find when he was still there, the young woman who had saved him from the fury of the sea and then disappeared, now close to his home.

“Hey,” He shakes you gently before placing his cloak over your body “can you hear me? Wake up,” he asks brushing your hair away from your face and taking a long moment to gaze at you as if bewitched by your beauty.

You open and close your eyes over and over again, finally managing to keep them open and almost jump when you realize you're in his arms. You look scared.

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay,” Acacius tells you, holding you against him “How did you find me? Did you... Did you follow me or something?” he asks you, then reminds you that you don’t understand him. “Oh, yeah, sorry, you and I don’t understand each other. Um, maybe I can try asking one of my servants if he can make himself understood by you or…”

“It's not necessary,” you mutter and Acacius frowns even more. So, you pretended not to understand? Why?

You sit down, moving slightly away from him and with your gaze you search for something, it's an old vial full of encrusted algae and with a strange liquid inside. You immediately grab it, holding it in your hands as if it were a precious treasure.

“So, can you talk?” he asks you using a surprised and suspicious tone. You nod, “Why didn’t you talk to me when we first met?” he asks you.

You look down for a moment, then look up again, “I was scared.” You whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. Don't be.” You and him remain silent for a while, he doesn't mind staying in your company even if it's silent, then he remembers that you're naked and that you're probably freezing “Oh, forgive me. I'm such a fool. Come inside. I'll have you draw a hot bath and then you'll tell me how you got here." he adds, standing up and offering you his hand to help you to get up. You grab his hand, but after a few moments you pull it back and look at him scared, “What is it?” he asks you.

“N — nothing.” he sees you swallow and then look into his eyes, you seem worried and agitated by who knows what. Maybe you don't want to tell him how you found him or you don't trust him enough to do so.

“If you don't want to tell me how you got here, that's fine. Don't worry. I'll listen to you whenever you want. Okay?” You nod, relaxing your shoulders and he also finds himself nodding his head and then make your way to his villa.

He sees you squeeze the bottle, who knows what it is! Maybe when you feel more at ease you'll tell him about it.

As you get closer to his villa, you do nothing but walk with your chin up, your eyes wide open and a big smile on your lips. It's Marcus who invites you to be careful where you put your feet, to climb this step now or not to put your feet in the ground when you are in the peristylium. It seems like you've never seen anything because you keep running from one corner of the house to another, touching the marble columns, jumping when you set your feet on the tiles.

“You have a beautiful house.” you tell him turning around and observing the splendid inlays and busts on the sides “Why do you have heads in the garden?” you ask him, frowning.

Marcus smiles, “They’re busts of my ancestors. They’re statues, they’re not real,” he explains.

“Oh,” you say in a whisper. You look into his eyes and your gaze seems to almost want to read him inside. He, who has seen so much, met and crossed so many glances, can barely stand yours.

“Have you never seen one?” he asks, his gaze wandering from you to a bust of a distant ancestor of his.

You shake your head, “I saw some drawings though,” you say, running a finger along the outline of the sculpture.

Marcus starts walking again and you follow him, turning your head from one side to the other as if you don't want to miss even a single detail of what you see.

“Are you hungry?” he asks you. “After your bath I’ll have a big meal prepared for you, if you wish.”

You don't answer him, you're a few steps behind and you're as if enraptured by what you see. You seem incredulous and so absorbed, you have such a beautiful and unique look that you almost seem like a creature from another world.

“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching out to you and moving his gaze in the direction your gaze is directed. The man immediately understands what has intrigued you and perhaps even scared you a little: it’s a statue of him.

He doesn't like it at all. He doesn't recognize himself in that representation, too pompous and proud. If it had been up to him, he would have let it sink into the abyss, but it's a gift from the emperors and doing so would mean causing them a grave offence, so Marcus keeps it there in his villa.

“I don’t like it. That’s not me,” Acacius confesses to you with a sad sigh.

“Instead, it’s beautiful. I mean, you are beautiful, not the statue. The statue is an object. You are here and you are real.” You tell him, catching his attention and making him smile slightly. You are sincere and this is a rare and unique quality.

“Thank you for your words. It means a lot to me.” he tells you, making to take your hand in a completely spontaneous gesture, but you pull away almost scared and so he desists, clearing his throat “Sorry.”

You shake slowly, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be rude, but...” you say, tightening your cloak.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call my servant now who will help you take a hot bath, help you dry off, and then help you find a dress that fits you,” the man informs you.

“Maybe I can do it myself,” you suggest as the man starts walking again. “I don’t want to disturb you or anyone else.”

Marcus smiles. Again.

“It’s a joy to help you and even if I don’t agree, slaves are there for this, to do what we don’t do.”

“If you don’t share, why don’t you free them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you pause in the hallway.

“It’s complicated. Wait here. I’ll send someone to help you.” He says, giving you one last look. “See you later.”

You didn't think that potion would hurt you so much, your throat felt like it was closing up, you almost felt like you were suffocating, then your legs started to shake, you did everything you could to resist and not give in, in the end the pain got the better of you and you fainted.

Finding Marcus, the man for whom you did all this, fills you with joy when you wake up, even if you haven't been able to express it as you would have liked.

You immediately felt overwhelmed by a myriad of emotions, enthusiasm and fear at the same time, his hands are so warm, calloused, big, you can feel them full of cuts, who knows if they were inflicted in battle... just as you are thinking this, a terrifying image appears before your eyes, he’s covered in blood, there’s a large cut right next to one eyebrow from which blood is gushing, he has in his hands a sword also stained with blood. He’s lying on the ground on what looks like sand, you see him breathing heavily and then that terrible scene disappears as it appeared. The General looks at you perplexed, while you are shaken by the shivers and fear of what you have just seen.

He’s so kind, so hospitable, it seems impossible to reconcile his sweetness with the violent image that has just appeared before your eyes or those you have seen previously.

His servants are very polite and curious, they insistently ask you where you are from as your accent is unknown to them. You procrastinate, asking now about this, now about that. As they explain to you the various things that surround you and their usefulness, you realize that what you have read or your aunt's words have not fully conveyed what you are seeing and feeling. It's all much more.

A maid insists on braiding your hair into a high bun, but you protest so much and avoid that thing she calls a comb that in the end you give up and leave it loose. She also wanted to make you wear a dress that was the color of the sea, but instead you were struck by another one that was white like sea foam.

When you're finally alone, you walk over to your bed and sink into it. Oh, it's so soft and warm. Your bed at home was a giant oyster, it was nice and cozy, but this on earth is much better!

You open and close your eyes several times, you feel exhausted, but happy. You are under his roof, you have spoken to him, he knows you exist. These are already steps forward. You smile, sighing and relaxing completely, when you open your eyes again the light coming from the candles is very dim, you have fallen into a deep sleep.

You've never slept so much, you wonder if this isn't also an effect of your aunt Mira's potion. You sit down placing your hands on your thighs and then your knees, you have no pain and this is also a sign that the potion is working. Not that you doubted it, but it all still seems so incredible to you!

You look out of one of the many windows in your room, you pull aside the delicate curtain and observe the moon and the many stars that surround it, you are as if enraptured by it, at least until you realize that your room looks out onto the gardens of General Acacius' villa where the statue dedicated to him dominates.

You turn and look at the vial prepared by your aunt and drink a few drops of the potion, as per her instructions, then you decide to hide the vial under the bed in a hidden corner between the wall and the bed so that no one can find it.

Once this is done, you decide to go out and let yourself be caressed by the light wind of that evening, you feel light and yet your heart is heavy as if gripped by a strange sensation. Probably the images that first appeared before your eyes just disturbed you a lot.

You hear footsteps, fast, a very small child with blond curls crying runs in your direction, immediately behind him you see what you imagine is his mother followed by three other women behind them still Acacius.

“Hi,” you greet the red-faced, crying-eyed boy. He stops and looks at you, and you kneel down in front of him, “you’re beautiful, you know? What’s your name?”

“Fas - us,” the little one barks.

You raise your head towards the woman behind the little boy, the woman must be a few years older than you. She has brown hair tied in a braid and the clothes of someone who works in the kitchen judging by the stains, “My lady,” she says to you softly, “his name is Faustus, he's small and cannot yet say it clearly.”

You nod and then smile at the little one, “You really have a beautiful name. Why are you crying?”

“My lady,” the woman intervenes again, “he misses his father.”

“Oh.” you say in a sad whisper “Come here,” you say to the little one, gently holding his little body to yours, “you know, when I was little, I didn't have a dad either. I only had my mother, then when I grew up he came back.” you tell him, while the little one rubs his eyes “Do you want to hear a little song my mother always sang to me when I was little?”

He nods.

You smile and the sweet words, full of hope, love, happiness of your mother's song float in the air enchanting the little one for about a couple of minutes, when you look up, you notice how everyone was fascinated and speechless when they heard that melody. Acacius has a strange light in his eyes, but you don't feel danger or threat, but rather dying to know you, curiosity. His lips then curve upwards and you smile sweetly back.

Little Faustus unexpectedly throws his arms around your neck and for a moment you are paralyzed before returning his sweet embrace.

“My lady,” the woman says, “forgive him, he’s not usually this open with strangers.” She apologizes.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. He's beautiful,” you say, placing a hand on the baby’s little back and closing your eyes, relaxing against his little body.

After a few minutes the baby's breathing normalizes until he moves away from you, you dry a couple of tears that are still wetting his little face and smile at him, he smiles back showing you his tiny teeth making your smile wider.

“My lady, thank you for what you have done,” the woman says, placing her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Faustus, say thank you.”

“Tk you.” he says making you smile.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” you say getting up, while the mother takes the little one by the hand and they walk away followed by the other two women.

You followed them with your gaze, turning in their direction, then you heard a sad sigh behind you and Marcus' slow footsteps approaching you.

“It's a sad story about Faustus and his mother,” the man reveals to you, appearing at your side and keeping his gaze towards the corridor where the group has headed.

“What story?” you ask, your gaze wandering from the man to the hallway.

He hums sadly and then turns his gaze to you, observes your face for a few seconds and then with a serious look he answers you, “I don’t want to disturb your first night, um… You didn’t tell me your name yet.”

You tell him and he repeats it with such sweetness that it seems like music to your ears. You smile at each other.

“Do you want something to eat? Not knowing what you like, I had you prepare meat, fish, fruit, wine... in short, I hope you'll like something.” he tells you, slightly raising his shoulders as if he felt uncomfortable.

You nod, slightly raising the corners of your mouth upwards.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, pointing to a door behind him with his open palm in a gesture as if to say ladies first.

Marcus can't help but look at your face, your curious eyes zigzagging from one corner to another of the many rooms you pass through until you reach the triclinium, your hands caress and touch everything around you with curiosity. Your eyes seem to see so many things only now for the first time and your beauty touches the divine.

Where do you come from?

Such is your beauty that Marcus can't help but think that you are as beautiful, perfect and unattainable as the gods.

Yes, you must be a goddess sent there by him to enchant and conquer him and he's very happy to be enchanted by your beauty, your voice and the sweetness that shines through in your ways and gestures, as sweet as they are innocent.

“You have a beautiful voice, I've never heard anyone sing like that,” Marcus tells you, as you turn an apple over in your hands curiously, then smell it and smile “It’s an apple,” he adds as if wanting to help you.

You smile sweetly at him, placing the apple back in the basket you took it from, “I know, but I’ve never smelled it before.”

He hums, “I know nothing about you.” The man begins, sitting down on the triclinium “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you say and from the look on your face and your suddenly downcast eyes, Acacius can tell that you really don’t know what to say to him. You are not lying or stalling for time on how to answer him.

“You told the little one first that you grew up with your mother and then your father came back, is that a true story?” he asks you looking at your face and when you look up he sees them full of a veiled sadness.

“No, or rather that’s how I would have liked it to be. I mean, my mother died when I was about six of your age…” Acacius frowns “I meant six years, I’m tired, sorry.” He nods although he remains perplexed by your statement.

Is it possible that you really are what he saw: a sea creature? He has read about the existence of such creatures, but... No, that's impossible!

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of this absurd thought, “I'm sorry. What about your father?”

You tsk, you shake your head, “He was and still is an overprotective father. He has prevented me from doing so many things in my life.” you say in a bitter tone, then you frown and he follows your gaze, you are looking almost with disgust or perhaps sadness at the prawns or blue fish placed in beautiful ceramic bowls garnished with spices.

“What is it?” he asks you, not understanding your expression.

"Why are you doing this?"

Acacius is perplexed, “Do what?”

“Kill fish, they are defenseless creatures. They did not harm you.” you reply looking him in the eye with disappointment.

“Um, we have to feed ourselves. We would die.” he answers you in a matter-of-fact tone “We don’t do it for fun. Well, some people kill deer or other animals for fun, but mostly to survive.”

You look down, pressing your lips into a straight line, for a few minutes you don't speak, then you speak again, “I’m sorry, I overreacted. Um, you’re… very kind and… it’s so hard for me to reconcile this sweet version of you with the General I saw a while back.”

Marcus sighs, “I don't always like being the General, but I am. And I have duties to perform, sometimes I do things I'm not proud of at all. You know, sometimes it really costs me to be that way.” he confides in you, lowering his head and putting aside the armor he has always used to shield himself during all these years of his life. When he raises his head, he sees you sit down next to him and, in such a sweet and spontaneous gesture, rest your head on his shoulder.

No one had ever done it. No one had ever dared to be so close to him, everyone - he knows it well - fears him, not as much as they fear the Emperors, but he knows that his often hard gaze and his piercing eyes tend to keep everyone away.

“You’re such a sweet creature.” The words come from his heart. Marcus turns his head, “You know, I never get around anyone more than necessary.” he confesses to you by sticking his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent which - perhaps it's just his suggestion - smells of iodine and other perfumes he's never smelled before.

“It’s because you’re a contradictory human,” you reply. “You want someone by your side, but at the same time you keep everyone away.” you just move away from him “You’re scared. Even if you hide it well.”

The man misses a beat when he hears those words and in front of your gaze that seems to read him so deeply, almost scaring him, he who has faced armies and peoples with courage, he who stands up to Emperors albeit politely, is afraid. He doesn't know if it's you or what you were able to bring to light in a few hours, revealing it to his own eyes and intuiting it while spending such a short time with him.

“You are… um, amazing. Yes, I think that’s the right word,” he says, smiling slowly at you. “No one has ever spoken to me like that. Not even my own subordinates.”

“Well, I’m not your subordinate, Marcus,” you reply, smiling at him.

“Do I seem bold to you, if... well, if I tell you that you are beautiful?” your expression changes, but you don't lose your smile, you shake your head slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like you.” You lower your gaze in a split section. “Intuitive, sweet, captivating.” Acacius sighs, “You must be starving, while I look like… well, I want to hit on you.”

You frown, “Hit on me? What does that mean?”

The man smiles as if touched by your innocence, “You don't know anything at all, do you?”

After eating and saying a few words here and there about what this or what that thing is, Marcus — not at all tired or annoyed by your presence, on the contrary more and more curious by your originality — offers you a walk along the seashore.

The sun's rays are getting weaker, the sand is cool at your feet and Marcus for the first time in years and years indulges himself in the luxury of being able to take off that armor that he always wore it with pride, but which from time to time weighs like a millstone. He tells you about himself like he never did before, he even finds himself confiding in you about episodes of his childhood and early adolescence and you smile at him, in that light your eyes seem to shine with pure magic.

Being with you makes him feel lighter. And he likes it. Until then, being with others had been limited to when someone gave him orders or when he himself ordered others to carry out what had been planned for the conquest of this or that land. You're not asking him for anything, you don't want anything. He still hasn't understood why you're there and why with someone like him, but for the first time he chooses not to ask questions, but to accept your mysterious presence as a gift.

You answer a few more of his questions, not because he doesn't have any, but because after so much time he can finally speak freely and not about politics, not about interests, not about the Empire, but about himself and Rome never gives space to all this. You do it and you're a breath of fresh air in his life.

“Marcus?” you say. “Can I ask you something?”

If you look at him that way, you can ask for anything and he will give it to you.

“Tell me.”

“What’s the story of Faustus?” you ask him.

He sighs sadly, “As I told you before, his is a sad story. His mother, Iulia, and her mother were slaves and served the Emperor Septimius Severus. He also treated them well all in all, Iulia grew up knowing what her role was and therefore she learned to stay in her place. In short, she’s a slave and then women... have no freedom of speech or thought.”

“Why?” you ask him and he looks at you.

You are not really a creature of this world!

“Unfortunately, this is how our society works. Men are in charge.”

“And you agree?” you ask him.

He watches the ripples of the sea, “Come let's sit here.” he says to you, stopping not far from the entrance of his villa and sitting on the now completely cold sand. Marcus watches the light summer wind caress your long hair and move it slightly, he then watches the now dark horizon “No. I don't agree at all. You women are everything to this society, you make such an important contribution and not only for the most obvious reason, but you are intelligent, charismatic, and sometimes gifted with an unrivaled wit.”

Marcus really thinks it, he's not just saying it, he really believes it.

“Returning to Iulia, well.. her mother died shortly after the death of the Emperor, he was succeeded by the current Emperors Caracalla and Geta.” Marcus takes a break “They reign according to their own rules and according to their own personal enjoyment, as to this last aspect, well the young Iulia became the object of desire of the young Caracalla and one evening...” Marcus feels his throat tighten as he tells this story out loud, but you asked what the story of the boy you just met is and so he decides to tell you the whole story “he raped her and she got pregnant.” he hears you holding your breath “His brother Geta covered up what his brother had done and so he entrusted young Iulia to me, taking her away from his brother.”

“And the boy?” you ask him. “Does he know that...?”

“Of course not! His mother told him that his father is away and will return one day, but of course that will never happen.” he explains it to you again and then takes a long, very long break.

“Don’t you like them?” you ask him naively.

“Quiet, sweet girl!” he admonishes you looking around with a worried expression and you imitate his looking around and then find yourself eye to eye with him again “Never, and I mean never, speak ill of them.”

You frown, “What would happen?”

He holds his breath, “You’d die. Whoever opposes them, dies. One way or another.” he replies and your eyes widen in disbelief or probably scared to learn this “I serve them whether I want to or not. I have no say in the matter.” You frown without taking your eyes off his contrite face “Did you think it was different for men?”

“I thought that since you were a General you could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted,” you admit with a shrug.

He smiles, “It's not that simple,” he's about to take your hand, but then thinks better of it, he doesn't know if you'd like such a touch from him “We men, although we are certainly freer than you women, are still part of Rome and Rome sometimes sucks you in, eats you alive day after day and then spits you out if you are no longer useful.” he sees you swallow and slowly bring your legs closer to your chest “Sometimes I feel like that. Eaten up and then spat out like I don't even have a heart or feelings.” he adds in a murmur.

“Marcus, oh Marcus.” you say and he turns around looking at your saddened face “Why don’t you go away?”

He chuckles, but it's not a happy chuckle, on the contrary. “You know,” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “with you I'm breathing again after a long, long time and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reminding me that I am a person before a General.” you smile at him, but he senses that it's an embarrassed smile from this contact so he moves his hand away and places it on his lap “This is who I am. I can neither fight it nor escape from this role.”

You nod and then fearfully place a hand on his, “I wish I could do more for you,” you say, your breath shaking. It's like you're afraid to touch him... why?

“You do, you're already doing it, you know?”

“Really?”

Marcus nods, “You really are the sweetest creature in the world.” He pauses. “I wonder why you chose me, why you're here.” The man sees your skin crease. “Are you cold?”

You shake your head, moving your hand away from him and placing it on your thigh with your head down.

“There's something you're not telling me, right?” You look up and stare into his dark eyes for a long moment before slowly nodding “I already knew that.” You swallow “But, whatever it is,” Marcus gently strokes your arm, “it’s fine with me. You make me human.” your smile widens as if you find what he just said funny “Seriously,” the man insists, “and thank you for listening to me. Your sweetness warms my heart for the first time. You know,” he starts staring at the now completely dark horizon again “the Emperors want me to get married.” he confides in you “I’m not afraid, but I’m forced to do what I don’t want. That’s why, as I told you, you are never completely free even though you are a man.”

You, unexpectedly again, rest your head on his shoulder and this time make an extra gesture that on one hand stops him for a moment, but on the other hand it makes his heart beat so fast, you reach out a hand towards his and squeeze it, intertwining your fingers with his.

If Marcus could, he would marry you.

The next day, you are awakened by the cawing of seagulls and a soft light that filters through the thin curtains that flutter in the summer wind.

You stretch with a smile, sitting in the center of the bed, placing a hand on your legs in a gesture as if to check that they are still there and that you are not dreaming of having them.

So, you wake up humming to yourself ready to live this new day. You don't know what to expect or if Marcus will be there by your side.

Marcus... you think about how sad and lonely his life has been, he has glory and power, but he’s completely alone. No one really rejoices with him, no one talks to him.

For him to confide in you, who have been in his life for less than a day, means that he desperately needed to talk and be heard by someone, anyone, you.

There's a knock at the door, you turn around to see the door open and Iulia enters the room, “Oh, my lady, are you already up?!” she exclaims surprise holding in her hands a tray full of fruit and bread with a strange semi-shiny substance spread on it.

“Iulia?” you call her.

“My lady?”

“Don’t call me that, it makes me uncomfortable,” you tell her, shrugging and revealing your name. She looks at you sympathetically as she places the tray on a table in the center of your room.

“I’m not allowed to do that. The General was very clear,” she replies softly.

You nod, “He treats you well.” It's not a question, it's a statement, she looks at you almost scared “Don't be afraid.” You reassure her by moving closer to her and placing a hand on her shoulder as a sign of understanding and affection and at that moment a series of violent images appear before your eyes: it's Iulia, she's younger, she cries, she's the victim of increasingly cruel pranks by two blond boys, then another cruel and terrifying image appears before your eyes, she’s held tightly by the wrists and then you see a young man with blond curly hair leaning over her, she screams, then the image disappears and another image appears before your eyes of one of the two young blond boys rudely handing over Iulia to a younger Acacius.

You jump, “Are you all right, my lady?” Iulia asks you, noticing your shocked expression. “Do you want a hot bath? You're shaking.” she adds worriedly.

“No. No. I'm fine. Thank you.” You reply, shaking your head as if to erase those images. You don't dare to imagine what it was like to actually live those scenes.

Poor Iulia...

“Come, I'll help you undress, my lady.” Iulia insists, walking towards your bed. You let her take off your nightgown, “You have beautiful skin, if I can dare, my lady.” You smile, but you don’t know what to say to her.

You think about how much she suffered in undergoing what she experienced, but above all in having to also raise a child who is kid out of...

You sigh, maybe your father is right about one thing: humans are strange creatures and some are truly dangerous.

“My lady, did you rest well?” she asks you again kindly.

You give a small smile, “Yes, thank you. I don't think I've ever slept so soundly.”

Iulia helps you clean up before getting ready for the bath. The water smells wonderful, “What is that smell?” you ask curiously.

“It’s lavender, my lady. Do you like it?” she asks as she helps you not to slip while getting into the tub.

“Yes,” you hum closing your eyes.

“Today is a beautiful day. The sun is high in the sky, thanking the god Apollo.” she claims moving away just enough to give you some privacy, but remaining in the same room as you.

In this sudden pleasant silence that envelops you and the woman, you hear a sudden hubbub under your window, then horses in the distance and finally Marcus' deep voice echoing in the peristylium.

Iulia is the first to slowly approach the window, you hear her footsteps and then you almost feel her holding her breath. You turn in her direction and notice the paleness on her face, “Are you okay, Iulia?” you ask her worriedly.

“Oh, yes,” she says hastily. “Come on, I’ll help you.” she adds, offering her hands to help you get out without any problems. She wraps you in a soft towel and pats you dry, “Let me do it.” she adds again when you do the same to dry your skin from the water.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she gently massages away the excess water. “Why has your skin turned so white?” you ask her still not understanding what happened.

“Nothing, my lady.” she says, but from the tone of her voice you understand that something that is troubling her must have happened, even if you don't know what it is yet “Come, I'll help you get dressed.” she adds in a sad whisper. She helps you cover your breasts and womanhood with some bands, then she makes you wear a dress as thin as seaweed, light as you and your sisters and all the mermaids and newts when you swim down there in the depths of the sea.

“You are enchanting, my lady.” She adds again with a small smile that curves her lips upwards, but it’s not a happy smile, her head is still lost in who knows what thought. She combs your hair and then lets it fall loose over your shoulders and down your back, “Why don’t you eat something before you go to the General?” she suggests.

“I’m not hungry,” you reply, shrugging.

“But my lady, you need to eat a little.” She insists, holding out the tray and looking at you with hopeful eyes that you will listen to her.

“You're a good person, Iulia. Thank you. I'll eat later.” You insist, sticking to your opinion about wanting to reach the man and let this new day begin.

You put on some strange shoes that are very comfortable, then you head towards the door, opening it and going out. The air is quite warm that day and you feel it too even though your body temperature is not the same as humans, but it doesn't matter.

As you pass by, you notice other servants busy doing their household chores, stopping to half bow and say my lady. You feel uncomfortable, no one, not even at the bottom of the sea, has ever shown you such respect. And yet, your father is the king of the sea!

Who knows if he has found out where you are and what he is doing, who knows if your sisters are thinking of you and wondering why you made this decision! You miss them, but you don't regret your choice.

When you reach the room that Marcus called triclinium, you hear two voices talking animatedly. One is the General, the other you don't know who belongs to. You hide behind a thick marble column and listen to what they say. You lean forward just enough to give a face to the second voice as well and you immediately recognize the face you saw when you touched Iulia: it's one of the two Emperors, the one who entrusted the young slave to Acacius. His features are not unpleasant, but there is something in his gaze and a glint in his eyes that unsettles you to the core, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I know that Augusta Lucilla was your guest recently,” says the Emperor.

“Yes, that’s right,” Acacius confirms, his tone extremely cold and controlled, so different from the one he used with you just a few hours earlier.

“So? Have you discussed the terms of your union?”

Acacius swallows and his dark eyes seem to grow even darker like the stormy sea, “Yes.”

“And?” asks the young man again, sitting on one of the triclinia with an impatient air to know who knows what details of the matter.

“We will be husband and wife, with this union everything will be under control.” Marcus answers hastily keeping his head down as if feeling uncomfortable with all these questions.

“Good.” the boy comments again, then adds “There's someone spying on us!” You hide behind a column feeling caught red-handed “I don't like people who spy on me.” he adds again, but his tone of voice seems amused, then silence follows and finally you are surrounded on one side by Marcus who looks at you surprised and also a little annoyed and on the other side there is the Emperor who lets his gaze wander from your face then along your figure and then states “You have a new slave, Acacius! She’s beautiful.”

You swallow, seeking Marcus's eyes, who gives you a silent look before answering the ruler, “She’s my guest. She is not a slave.”

“Oh, right! She's too beautiful to be a slave." he notes with a little grimace "So, why did you keep her from me? She could have joined us. If nothing else, she would have been much more pleasant to look at than you!” he exclaims with a smirk. “Where does this beautiful creature come from?” he asks, looking at you, but waiting for an answer from the General.

You hope with all your heart that the man would lie about how you met, you are not sure that the boy in front of you can accept an answer as the truth that you came from the sea.

“From the East.” Acacius lies. You look into his eyes again, feeling relieved by this lie.

“Oh, I see.” he comments “That's why you're delaying the wedding, now I got it!” he exclaims smiling mischievously “It was worth it, I hope” he adds without taking his eyes off you “I'd like to hang out with her too.” He chuckles, hinting at who knows what.

Acacius is now visibly tense. His features are hard, his expression is cold and tense, his jaw clenched and his chest puffed out. You didn't quite understand what the Emperor was referring to, but Marcus did and he must not have liked it.

“Are you doubting my honor and integrity?” Marcus asks, clenching his jaw tighter.

“Oh no, come on General, I don't think it's appropriate to react like this!” exclaims the emperor smiling at him, but Marcus doesn't smile back, “Oh, you’re so boring!” he adds, huffing, then smiling at you.

“I beg your pardon, the gods gave you and your brother the wisdom to know when it is time to be serious or not.” Marcus replies through his teeth with a sarcastic smile.

You try to hold back your emotions by masking them by looking down at your feet. Then you look up again, observing Marcus' features that have become so hard and cold and the softer ones of the Emperor who has lost his smile upon hearing the General's words.

“I hope your guest is at least more inclined to smile.” You look at the man’s dark eyes. “And I hope your beautiful guest has a name, too.”

“She is…” Marcus is about to answer for you, but the Emperor silences him.

“I want to hear her voice. She can speak, right?”

You have to say something since the two men's eyes are fixed on you, you nod, “Of course.”

The boy clenches his jaw slightly, lifting his chin slightly upwards, “Your voice is enchanting and your beauty overshadows your insolence.” he smiles “I am Geta. One of the two emperors of Rome.” he finally introduces himself “I'm sure we'll get along great, um.. what's your name, my lady?”

You respond by telling him your name and he repeats it before licking his lower lip in a slow motion as if he were about to taste the most succulent of dishes. This man — Geta — makes you feel uncomfortable just with a look, it seems like a curious and innocent look, but deep down you feel that he’s not as innocent as he wants you to believe.

“I'd be happy to have a word with your guest, General. If that's okay with you.” He wants to sound sweet and hospitable, but the light in his eyes seems anything but innocent.

Marcus gives you the look of someone who wants to say something, but can't do anything.

“Oh, and General Acacius have wine and food brought for your beautiful guest too so she can celebrate your union with Augusta Lucilla. Has our beloved General told you about his impending wedding?” he asks, looking at your eyes as if wanting to notice any reactions of displeasure on your part.

You just nod with a hint of a smile, “Yeah, I was just surprised to hear that marriage isn’t based on love.” Geta gives you a surprised and intrigued look. “So, isn’t marriage based on this?” you ask, your gaze wandering from the Emperor’s curious face to the General’s much more tense one.

"Yours is a very interesting guest." comments the first "To answer your question, no. Not always. Mostly unions are unions of interest, politics. And the wedding of our brave General is one of them.” he concludes by patting Marcus on the shoulder who shrugs his shoulders assuming an expression so hard that it almost scares you, but it doesn't discourage or inspire fear in the Emperor who instead seems amused by this reaction "I must leave you now, I have other matters to attend to. I await further communication from you, General. Once this matter is settled, Rome will need to expand further. I want everything to be perfectly under control.”

Acacius clenches his jaw and simply places his fist at chest height and bows his head in respect and greeting towards the young man who, after giving him one last look, turns to you taking your hand and you jump when at that moment some images appear to you in which the Emperor has a lot of make-up on his eyes, he shouts something towards a noisy audience and there, in the middle of what looks like an arena, Acacius, bleeding and wounded, prepares to face some heavily armed men, then another image where Geta is among men dressed in white sitting on chairs, he speaks with great passion of betrayal, then in a last vision there is you, you are in what seems to be a prison and you are wearing a half-torn white dress, you are scared, you can feel your own fear and pain, you are turning into a mermaid again.

You pull your hand away in fear, “I apologize, I don’t feel well. Um, I’m going to my rooms,” you announce, leaving both men behind, who are surely still watching you.

When you are sure that Geta is gone, you leave your rooms and head to a cliff behind the villa. The wind has become stronger and the smell of the sea more intense. You wonder if the images you saw are real or if it is your own fear that others might discover the truth that is showing them to you so vividly.

“You’re here.” You hear Marcus’ warm, husky voice. “I thought you were asleep.”

You shake your head without turning in his direction, “No.”

He reaches you and comes alongside, for a while neither you nor he say anything, there is the incessant sound of the sea in the background. You think back to the fate that awaits the General, a union without love.. then you think back to when you saw him bloodied and fighting so ferociously just to survive.

“I’m sorry if the emperor upset you. He’s… that’s the way he is. He enjoys upsetting others, he takes this strange pleasure.”

You nod, “Your world is quite complicated. I thought you were exaggerating, but…” a shiver runs down your spine “The Emperor, Geta, has something in his gaze that has horrified me to the core.” you confide “He is so superficial, so devoid of humanity and he hides it behind that seraphic appearance that the gods have given him.” you add in a barely audible whisper to Acacius.

You feel something covering your shoulders and you almost jump, it's just Marcus placing his cloak on your shoulders. You look at him with a grateful but also sad look, “Why does he want you to marry at all costs? What does he gain from it?”

Marcus lifts one corner of his mouth in a small smirk, “He... well, um no I have to tell you everything from the start.” You listen to every word the man says and the more you listen the more the emperor seems absolutely crazy, you roll your eyes several times and you find yourself opening your mouth in shock.

When he finishes you look down and clutch his cloak, “I’m sorry I upset you. Again.” he says in a sorry and bitter tone, “But all that glitters is not gold.”

You shake your head slowly, “No, I’m glad you confided in me.” You look at him, “You’re a wonderful person, Marcus.” This time it’s his turn to lower his head. How you wish you could lift him out of all this, you wish he was happy! “How I wish your life was simple and happy!” you tell him and this time he looks up exchanging a knowing smile with you.

“Tonight, do you want to come with me to Rome? I want you to see more than just my life. I can’t guarantee that you’ll like everything you see, but you’ll certainly have a broader vision.”

“If I’m with you, that’s fine,” you reply.

He gives you such a sweet smile that warms your heart and makes it beat.

The magnificence of Rome envelops, conquers and scares every time. Marcus can't help but observe the amazement in your eyes, the smile that appears when you notice something special or extravagant.

You are in front of him, your hands on the cart to hold yourself up. He is right behind you, holding the reins of the horse. Every now and then you look up at him and ask him what this or that is and he answers your ear giving a name to everything you see as you pass by.

When the chariot stops, he gets out first, then gives you his hands to get out, you get out with a little hop, observing first the man and then what is around you.

The people have prepared huge bonfires around which they prepare food, some dance and others sing hymns to Hades so that he can help them always have food and with the hope that one day they or their descendants will enjoy some of the wealth enjoyed by the upper classes.

Acacius has always participated in these events, he tried to do everything he could for the people by sharing that little bit of wealth that he himself enjoyed and for this he’s much loved by all the people. In fact, he's one of the few men who is not frowned upon or thrown rotten food as he passes by; rather, they bless him and thank him. This evening is no exception.

Marcus immediately receives a glass of wine which he offers to you as a sign of gallantry, then takes another. You both drink, smiling at each other, and in the firelight your eyes and your smile bewitch him. Your joy, your dance, your laughter, your dragging him into those dances envelop him and ensnare him until he forgets, at least for those hours, his role and the burden that weighs on his shoulders.

You brought so much joy and lightness into his heart, you brought serenity and enthusiasm into a difficult and heavy life like his, you brought the love that was missing in his life.

[cryptonymdc]

Can you write Prefrences for Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, and John Stewart x Robot reader, maybe Angst to Fluff. So the reader is a robot who like works for the justice league, but there not sentient and can't feel emotions, they don't even look human either. But Clark, Bruce, and John can't help but fall deeply in love with Android reader despite them not being alive, the angst!!!!

My god the pinning, and longing stares that everyone else can see but the reader, because they have never felt what it means to be longed for. But I want this to have a happy ending so by some miracle or magic or whatever the reader ends up becoming sentient( not human). Just that they have the ability to feel real things afterwards

Love how creative this is! I hope I delivered. Here you go! Thank you for being the first requester.

Superman | Clark Kent 

T. O. Marrow is not a scientist concerned with humanity. He does create androids to mimic humanity, nor to better them. They are all created to serve and complete a purpose. Infiltrate the Justice League, steal this or that, protect him, etc. But rarely is a creator ever able to fully control its creation. T. O. Marrow was not able to remain in control of Red Tornado and Tomorrow Woman, he was not able to remain in control of Y - N. 

Y - N was created to serve and protect T. O. Marrow during his research and wherever he went. A glorified maid with a few subroutines in combat. Y - N too grew beyond what their creator imagined. A care for caring for things, a feeling they did not understand, something that did not fit their programing. Y - N began to care more about maintaining the cleanliness of the lab rather than the life that worked there. 

Red Tornado, ever curious about his creation and humanity overall, strove to find T. O. Marrow. He was the first to find and confront Y - N. He was able to talk them through rerouting their circuitry to form free will and free thought. They chose to pursue their first directive, to preserve a space. The Justice League offered Y - N the Watchtower, and they agreed. 

Y - N has free thought and free will, they can choose their purpose. But that does not translate to emotional awareness, nor understanding. Even Red Tornado still struggles to comprehend, to feel human emotions no matter what his fellow heroes tell him. Y - N is much the same. That does not stop others from feeling for them. 

Superman, despite his alien biology, is perhaps the most human of the Justice League. It is important to him in a way it isn’t to others. Either they aren’t human and don’t care, or are human and don’t question it in the same way he does. He’s always had to struggle with wondering if he is or isn’t human, despite being raised human from near birth. 

He sympathized with the plight of T. O. Marrow’s creations on a very real level. So he cares, like one does, and makes an effort to spend time with Y - N and help them explore life outside of purpose. That there is more than a reason, than a drive, to live. There is just existence, something you can bask in. A day in the sun, as it were. 

This reaches Y - N in an unexpected way. They strive to preserve a space, as is their purpose, and while not understanding it, learn to enjoy those spaces in some way. So while in a digitally projected human disguise, Y - N walks alongside Clark Kent through human spaces, and appreciates them in a way most humans don’t. 

They see a space as the sum of its parts. A building by man, the earth but nature, the river by time. And they appreciate it. They appreciate that something was built, that something is here, that time has passed. It’s a space, and it is here with intention in some way, like them. 

This is what begins to change Y - N, starts to imbue a need to choose in them. They too can build their own space, and can have intentions. They too could be something that they choose. 

The entire time this tour of humankind is happening, Clark can’t help but admire Y - N’s perspective. They lack context for so many things, that it is easy for them to view something with no bias. It makes Clark look around and see things he didn’t before. The little marks of humanity, the way every brick and stone was placed was a choice by someone. 

It makes him appreciate his own humanity, to realise that he really is human at heart. This is his world, his planet, because everything does have context to him, does have a meaning, and a reason. In turn this turns his appreciating gaze to Y - N. They can learn to be human, to appreciate humanity, and they care. They choose to care, to be human. 

It’s hard to know when you’re in love. Sometimes it’s an obvious feeling, sometimes it’s a red herring, sometimes it’s a slow realization that someone in your life is your priority above all else. Clark realizes he loves Y - N slowly, as he slowly starts to make more of an unconscious effort to introduce them to the world more and more. Flying them around the world to explore more spaces. 

Clark doesn’t believe that love is possible at first, as theirs the question of what he would be loving. As an alien himself he’s not going to count Y - N physical appearance as unlovable or unlovable, as that purely depends on the person one would say. But what, or rather who is Y - N? Are they a person to love? Or a character that was created by a Roboticst. Is it right or wrong isn’t really the question, more is it or is it not possible? 

But that question seems to answer itself, as Clark does fall in love with Y - N. He falls in love with the way they care about the little things. The things that don’t make a space messy, something outside their purpose, to place a plant pot a certain way because that’s what felt right to them. He falls in love with the way Y - N is curious to see the rest of the world, that sense of exploration and excitement that Y - N can’t see in themselves, but Clark can. He falls in love with the way Y - N in awe of the world, how they appreciate it. It’s a passion Clark can’t help but love. 

And that’s the kicker, in the end. When he overhears other league members talking with Y - N, asking them questions. Assessing how much human sentience that they’ve grown to have, and through Y - N’s own answers, Clark learns he sees more in them than they see in themselves. Y - N doesn’t think themselves human, but Clark absolutely does. 

And that moves him to start to try and help Y - N recognise their own humanity. This is where everyone else starts to notice, to notice how much Superman has fallen in love with Y - N. They see how Clark spends every lunch hovering beside Y - N as they pick up dishes, offering to help and carrying an ever growing pile of trays. They notice how Clark makes an effort to include Y - N in everyday conversations, asking for their opinion. They notice when Clark asks other members about their thoughts on Y - N more often, just probing to see if anyone else has noticed the changes. 

And the truth is, they do. They notice how Y - N offers comments more often, mostly just about interior design to maximise utility, but slowly the utility reasons lesson, and they just offer their opinion on what would look best. Y - N starts to ask questions, to ask league members their thoughts on the architecture and natural parks of the world, the environments, the sights they see. Y - N starts to go out on their own, just taking walks to see the world. It's hard to tell if Y - N also has growing feelings for Clark, but it’s not hard to see how they are growing more human. 

Y - N can feel, they can think, and they are. So not all hope is lost, and perhaps the League's only son of Krypton has a chance. They hope he does. 

Batman | Bruce Wayne 

Lonnie Machin, first known as Moneyspider, but better known as the first Anarky was a brilliant but shortsighted inventor. He first invented the S_O bots, a collection of small robots that could work as a collective hive mind to hack into tech companies to steal their bank details. But not only did his S_O bots lack some critical firewalls to protect them, they were slow and easily reprogrammed by the Batman to reveal Lonnie’s location. 

With his plan thwarted, Lonnie never cared to think about his S_O bots again. Just another failed scheme. Batman on the other hand, had more concerns about the S_O bots. They were a fairly comprehensive prototype, which in the wrong hands could grow into a more dangerous and capable adversary. 

So Batman kept the S_O bots in the Batcave in a glass container to study, and also just to keep them out of the wrong hands. While the S_O bots failed at retrieving information rapidly from digital sources, their observational skills of the physical world were greater than first thought. 

For months they watched Batman and Agent A walk around the Batcave, and slowly learned what the human form looked like. They would use their collective bodies to hold onto each other, and slowly build a humanoid form. Batman noticed of course, and became concerned. But there neither seemed a way to shut it off, nor did it seem to be antagonistic, and so despite his paranoia, he let it be. 

But that is not where the S_O bots stopped learning. They also overheard Batman and Agent A talk, as well as the many hours of security footage they combed over together. Through this, the S_O bots learned to talk, and while at first they only repeated what they heard, much like a parrot, they slowly learned to create sentences, and then full thoughts. They mostly asked questions. 

Batman mostly refused to answer, growing concerned with the rabid change of the S_O bots, until one fateful case. The Calculator was raising terror as an information broker, and Batman was scrambling to find his next target before the Calculator enacted his plan. 

S_O bots helpfully, although without any intentions, offered some of the information they had. As it so happened, Noah Kuttler AKA the Calculator was the man whose servers they had been tested on before being let loose by Anarky to hunt for information. S_O bots still had their comprehensive file on the Calculator, and thus had all of the blackmail that the Calculator had. Batman was able to turn the right people into the police, and protect others from being swindled by Kuttler at the same time. 

It did not change Bruce’s opinion on the S_O bots immediately, but it started to make Bruce realise that the S_O bots were more than their creator. In fact, they were possibly entirely separate. This caused Bruce to start actually talking with the S_O bots. 

At first the S_O bots were just asking questions on things they had heard, and depending on the severity of the case changed how much Bruce would share, but little by little, share he did. Agent A, or Alfred as the S_O bots learned, would turn on music in the cave in the absence of either Bruce or himself. The S_O bots learned much more rapidly from that, and not only asked endless questions on the songs, but also began to request certain music. 

It was a fateful day when the S_O bots, for the first time, offered an opinion instead of just a question or a fact. The S_O bots noticed that Bruce was tired, and said that they thought he should sleep. It was unprecedented before this point, as using the information they had was not part of their original programming. Just take in information, not use it. But use it they had. 

That woke Bruce, not just in the moment, but also for the future. This hivemind of a robot could learn, and could go beyond their original programming. 

Batman began to engage with the S_O bots as an exercise, presenting thought experiments, and turning on more than music, but documentaries as well. Together, they worked towards a goal. He taught the S_O bots actual human anatomy, as well as a database of many things to choose from, and allowed the S_O bots to choose what they looked like. And with that human shape, he took them out of their container, and to the watchtower. 

S_O bots, now with their new understanding of sentience and information, took in a new space for the first time. They took in the view of space, the plants in the tower, and suddenly grew a hunger for knowledge not just as a binary stream of facts, but as experience. To take in information and choose how to interpret it. 

When they returned to the Batcave, the S_O bots expressed their desire to experience things to Bruce Wayne. 

Having been there to witness the S_O bots' entire journey to this point, Batman felt some sort of responsibility, as well as a wish to see where this goes. So he offered the S_O bots an identity, and a place in the mansion as staff. They would work as a secretary for him at Wayne Tech, and could retreat to the mansion, and live, so long as they checked in. 

The  S_O bots readily explored Gotham, and did indeed choose to do what they wanted with their information. Having learned from the Calculator case, they began to help Batman as an extension of his computer and comms system. The Oracle before Oracle, as it were. 

Alfred had noticed Bruce’s intense attention that was given to the S_O bots, and at first wondered if it was healthy to care so much about a machine's existence. But he too watched the S_O bots gain humanity, watched them become a person. He endeavored to aid in this, sharing media with the S_O bots beyond that of factual inquiry. The fiction of the world, the concepts that are not taught but experienced. 

He watched as Bruce’s attention became more infatuation, and he watched as Bruce set the S_O bots free. Yes, he still kept constant vigil to make sure there was no influence in them from Anarky, but Alfred watched as Bruce grew to trust a machine. 

Perhaps it was healthy, for it was clear at this point that the S_O bots were no mere machines, but a thinking creature all on their own. It was best that they be free, so that Bruce and them could have a relationship on an equal level. 

Alfred was not worried about Bruce’s infatuation with the S_O bots. 

Green Lantern | John Stewart 

John Stewart is a Green Lantern with incredible conviction to his own principles, and thus no matter how strange, he will not turn down a mission from Oa. The Lantern Corps had accepted a new member, one they did not know how to handle. A ring had chosen a robot. And they needed a mentor. 

L_N1 was an engineer robot. Built by and to help the sole living alien on a desert planet. One of many robots built to help the alien do a multitude of tasks on the homestead to survive. L_N1’s purpose was to build structures that could withstand the sandstorms of the planet's surface, and many other things. They didn’t do the heavy lifting per se, but more so the strategic designing of it. Quite the computer. 

The alien passed naturally of old age, and the robots of the planet were left without instruction. Save L_N1. Their directive still stood, to build things that would endure. And so they took charge, directing the other robots to continue their duties and continue to build. And build they did, lasting decades past the death of their creator. 

So great was the will of L_N1, that when a Green Lantern landed in their homestead and died despite the best efforts of the nurse robots, L_N1 inherited the ring. It’s will was beyond its programming, and luckily is programmed to be creative as well as follow orders. When the ring directed it to go to Oa, L_N1 did. 

Now Oa and the Guardians were responsible for this machine, and this machine is now responsible for its ring. The guardians deemed it a full Green Lantern, and tasked Green Lantern John Stewart of Earth in guiding them in their new role. So guide them he did. 

In the early days of their partnership it was mostly John Stewart ordering them and L_N1 following, which was not really changing them anything. They were outside their original purpose and directive, and so did little without orders. They had to be told when to fight the bad guys, when to let someone go, etc. John Stewart really struggled to guide them. 

That was until both were deployed to help a small community of Aliens living in a floating city on a crowded planet facing annihilation from unnatural weather phenomena. While John went to discover the origin of the unnatural weather, L_N1 took initiative to follow their directive, and build a shelter that would endure. They worked with the local alien population to design and build protection for the floating city. When John failed to stop the weather, the alien community survived thanks to the actions of L_N1. 

This was where John started to see what the Guardians saw in L_N1, someone willing to help no matter what. John changed how he was trying to guide L_N1 after that, explaining things to them in a way they started to understand. 

First, appealing to their programming. Fitting the situation to fit their directive. Then Second, slowly expanding their directive to focus more on helping people endure rather than just structure. After that, L_N1 was able to learn on their own. L_N1 found their creative thought began to translate into personal thought, opinionated thought. 

Opinions they would share unprompted at any and all parts of their journey with John. Sometimes this annoyed him, as the middle of a galactic diplomacy meeting between two very volatile sides was not the time to learn that L_N1 thought green was a pretty color. But most of the time, it more often endeared L_N1 to him. As their little thoughts they shared brightened their flights through the cosmos. 

It was then that his fellow Corpsman started to notice John’s feelings for L_N1, well before he recognised them himself. Guy noticed how John made an effort to invite L_N1 to bar nights, and engaged them in conversation when no one else would. Hal noticed how John would defend L_N1’s slow acclimation to the duties of being a Lantern to their more juvenile comrades. Hal thought about teasing John, but then John might recognise his feelings, and that’s half the entertainment, so Hal kept his mouth shut. Kyle noticed how well John worked with L_N1 in the field. While he certainly followed orders, John usually had little patience for theatrics. But no matter how complex or strange L_N1’s plans or constructs, John made an effort to follow their lead or patiently help them. 

John himself didn’t notice his feelings until L_N1’s first trip to earth. He felt nervous for the first time, but also giddy to share a part of himself. And when he realised he had never felt this before, and wanted to impress L_N1 with Earth, he realised he had feelings for them. 

The question was, did L_N1 have feelings for him? 

[sennenpharaoh]

And there's that pout he loves to see. He saw it earlier, but now that things have settled down he can really enjoy it.

"Aww, come on. Don't be pouty~" He reached over the table, giving a boop on Roy's nose before going back to his meal. "You're too adorable when you're pouty." So was he, but he wasn't about to let his Colonel get the better of him this time. Besides, a little pointless banter between the two was needed, considering the...

Hmm?

Huh, could have sworn there was an uneasy feeling he's been having the whole week and now... there's nothing. Or rather... he's been having too much fun to think about it. Well, whatever it was it'll have to wait because for once in a good long while Atem felt like he could lean back and just smile. Very rarely this happens, and he's glad it's with his Colonel.

"Well I do appreciate it, and everything tonight." Honestly he could have the date end right here with them just going back to the apartment and he'd feel like he had the best night in ages. He was that happy.

Roy chuckled as he listened to Atem speak. He was happy he had planned all of this. He had a feeling tonight would turn out good and the fact is that they were enjoying each other’s company and eating a delicious meal. He knew Atem needed this, they both did.

“Yes, I know for a fact Edward would enjoy this. He’s into things like this and I’m sure Yugi would be too.” He laughs about the Tristan and Kaiba comment. “It would definitely be a fun night, that’s for sure.” The thought of spending time with their group of friends and each other was nice for one afternoon everyone’s schedule is open.

He was just glad he got to spend one on one time with Atem and got to do this together first. "Me too, I am glad I heard about this place from someone else I worked with. They were talking about going there for the first time to enjoy some fishing with a friend and when I heard about it I looked into it more and thought that it sounded really fun. I remembered you had said something about wanting to try fishing someday, so I think this was something up your alley." He takes another bite of his fish before groaning at the joke.

"I'll never rid that monster even if I try." He hates even thinking about paperwork right now.

[favroitecrime]

god send the flood they’re on twitter and tiktok calling people pleasing harmful manipulation and comparing icing in a cake to sexual assault. and they’ve got licensed therapists agreeing with them. no no, they’ve got licensed therapists making these analogies for them. i hope that man chokes on the next cake he bites into.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

king magnus skin real cute and lovely but it loses points on the account that i cant see his ass anymore

[ahalliance]

qétoiles n qbagz’ convo about his code arm + fun banter from last sunday :] english subs + transcript below da cut

[Video transcript:

Etoiles: But yesterday when he [Forever] talked to me, he was so frightened, basically he was like, ‘But one day won’t you lose your shit and want to kill the Eggs with the Code, and everything?’ Though I was telling him, ‘But the fact is, I know the Code very well’—

Baghera: Oh, so you told him you joined—?

Etoiles: No, no, no, not at all. It’s just that he has these assumptions that I’m really allied to the Code because—

Baghera: I think it’s due to your Code tattoo, also, it gives off the impression you’re in the process of transforming into a Code, Etoiles, let’s not lie.

Etoiles: That’s it, that’s it. But, basically I told him that I’ve had it since—

Baghera: But you don’t give a shit? You’re taking it well?

Etoiles: Well, yeah, I don’t give a shit because I know he’ll never beat me. Basically I—

Baghera: But you don’t give a shit about the code literally popping up over your body?

Etoiles: Well, yeah, because it’s a part of me now. It’s normal.

Baghera: How?

Etoiles: Well, after— after fighting someone 17 times, you start— you start creating links. But those links—

Baghera: But— you know that’s not how things work. Like— look, we cross paths. Right now we’re crossing paths. You see? We’re crossing paths. I kick your ass. Like, for free. You see? I see you, I’m like, ‘Bro, I don’t like his face,’ so I kick your ass.

Etoiles: But no! Because if you tell me ‘Good fight’ at the end—

Baghera: I see you again— wait, I’m not finished. I see you again like 12 times, and I tell myself, ‘Hey, I’ll do it again,’ I kick your ass again. After a while, Rayou, I won’t get diabetes!

Etoiles: Well, maybe you will, huh.

Baghera: Yes, but it’s not— it doesn’t work, like— there’s no correlation, you see!

Etoiles: You know you won’t have Langerhans cells anymore, you know, it’s possible.

Baghera: But— no— what I mean is— Etoiles! That’s now how it works! It’s worrisome! It’s normal for us to worry!

Etoiles: Well, yeah, but, uhhh. Basically, you’re all used to talking with me on the island. And you understand very well that there’s nothing able to corrupt me.

Baghera: That we don’t know, Etoiles! Because— if it’s— I know that your morality, and your enormous brain, and your big body, won’t get corrupted. But if there’s suddenly— well, what I mean is that we don’t know what all the possible systems of manipulation on the island are.

Etoiles: It’s true. No, it’s true. But for the moment I’m doing well.

Baghera: Yeah, well, so much the better. But—

Etoiles: For the moment I’m doing well!

Baghera: If you feel any change, Etoiles, mention it, okay?

Etoiles: Oh, I’ll talk about it. But for the time being I’m doing very well.

Baghera: So I can understand peoples’ fear upon seeing you LITERALLY transform into a Code and who tell themselves, ‘Oh, strange, maybe there’s a thing with the Codes.’

Etoiles: It’s true but who can better know the dangers of the Code than someone who’s confronted it his whole life? Instead of someone who—

Baghera: I’m well aware.

Etoiles: No but it’s— it’s— it’s for that reason that I told Forever. I totally understand the fear and everything, it’s normal. You see a dude turning into a Code, you ask yourself, ‘What’s the guy who sent him doing?’

Baghera: Well, yeah, there you go.

Etoiles: Like, ‘Who sent him?’

Baghera: But you don’t feel any different? Nothing?

Etoiles: Absolutely not, no. Everything is going well. I still hate the Code whenever I see him, I still want to kick his ass. Everything’s fine. Even if right now I want him—

Baghera: But you join up with them when he suggests it, yeah. Well, it’s to get the shield back.

Etoiles: It was just for the shield, believe me. Believe me, if I run into them again- if I run into them again and they don’t offer me things to save the Eggs and everything, it’s goodbye. And considering what I’ve prepared— considering what I’ve prepared, I objectively think that 5 Codes won’t be enough to kill me. There’ll need to be 10 of them.

Baghera: They might bring 10, huh.

Etoiles: Yeah, well, then again, we have time.

Baghera: Well, in any case, they don’t want to kill you anymore since you’re working with them.

Etoiles: Well, in fact, we’re not really— actually— I don’t really know what he’s thinking. Because the last time we talked I told them, ‘But if you lay even a finger on the Eggs, I’ll kick your fucking asses, you sacks of shit.’ And they left, and they didn’t answer me.

Baghera: Then again, they’re a bit cryptic, the Codes, you know.

Etoiles: Yeah, but normally they— I managed to talk with them a bit, so— so I don’t know. Personally, I’m telling you—

Baghera: Okay, no, what I mean is that I understand why when people see you they think, ‘Maybe it’s possible he’s getting a little bit corrupted by the Codes.’

Etoiles: No but yeah, yeah, I totally get it. But honestly, never. Never in a million years.

Baghera: I believe you! I trust you. But if there’s— if once you feel any difference or something of the sort, you mention it, okay? To whomever you want, but you mention it.

Etoiles: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (10000x)

Baghera: You know you’re not very reassuring when you say that, as an answer.

Etoiles: That’s true. But I’m telling you there’s no problem. And— actually. The moment I start feeling strange, I’ll put numbers. And so you’ll have to come get me.

Baghera: Okay, okay. I’ll remember that.

Etoiles: Just that. But I— I— yeah. I whisper in the Code’s ear.

Baghera: The day you start talking to me in binary, there’ll be an issue, basically.

Etoiles: The day I say, ‘10001’, that’s it. But actually, I’m telling you, I could never be corrupted because I have AVAST, my wool block which blocks viruses.

Baghera: That’s real, that’s real.

end video transcript.]