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#ducks in ancient rome
frc-ambaradan · 2 years
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Last page of "Gli urbani paperi" (2022), art by Emmanuele Baccinelli.
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daisyducklover2021 · 9 months
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Aqueduct water slide
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sikyurame · 1 year
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There he is…there’s my beautiful annoyed son. Yeah, now it’s obvious why I requested this issue ASDFGG
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the-duck-follower · 2 years
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I followed more ducks
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A pigeon is their friend.
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vixnarts · 2 months
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Headcanons for Everlark and others:
Peeta is a massive cuddle bug and loves to hug Katniss while he's sleeping 🥺
Peeta can do Donald Duck's and Mickey Mouse voices, which is Katniss's favorite thing.
Johanna Mason is a lesbian-ace thang
Finnick Odair is a bisexual thang that enjoys fishing on Saturdays. Singing Wellerman by Nathan Evans
Katniss hates highschool drama and popular school girls because they're annoying.
Peeta hates drama.. period..
Katniss's favorite seasons are autumn, spring, and summer. She's okay with winter but isn't a big fan.
Peeta loves Christmas because he gets to bake his favorite things.
Katniss hates Halloween, she isn't a fan of horror.
Peeta loves Halloween but understands completely why Katniss doesn't love or celebrate the holiday.
Finnick loves Greek mythology and Roman mythology (some of it is pretty much the same.. I hate Ancient Rome lol)
Katniss loves painting and Peeta is a very good art teacher.
Gale enjoys the quiet and sitting near a waterfall, feeling the water and cool air hit him. He enjoys this in the summer and late spring.
What are your headcanons of Everlark or everyone else? Feel free to reblog and comment below!
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bradshawsbaby · 1 year
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Si Vis Amari Ama
III. A Gladiator’s Oath
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SERIES MASTERLIST
Pairings: Rooster (Roman Name: Gallus) x Female Reader (Roman Name: Sabina), featuring Hangman (Roman Name: Carnifex) x Phoenix
Summary: A girl whose freedom was stolen to pay her father’s debts. A gladiator enslaved for the entertainment of Rome. A love they never thought possible.
Author’s Note: We finally get to meet the rest of the gladiators! As previously mentioned, all of the TGM characters have been given Latinized names to fit with the time period of the story. Check out A Roman Guide to the Daggers (which is also pinned on the series masterlist) as a cheat sheet if you ever get confused!
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: Slavery in the ancient world, mentions of physical abuse, gladiatorial training/combat, discussion of minor injuries, brief language, tension/pining, alternating point of view.
“Gallus, duck!”
The echoes of harsh grunts and heavy breathing filled the air, the unrelenting thwacks of wood on wood reverberating across the open grounds of the training arena as bruised and battered men sparred with their practice swords.
You couldn’t help but glance up at the sound of his name, your eyes drifting past the other dueling gladiators until they landed on the familiar figure at the center of the main ring. He was in the middle of a heated bout with one of Dominus’ other prized champions, the two of them glaring at each other with an intensity that spoke of a rivalry that ran deeper than just friendly competition.
The advice Gallus had been given had evidently been sound, as the other man was swinging at him with his heavy shield, aiming straight for his head. You could feel your heart in your throat for a moment, but Gallus quickly parried with his sword and jumped backwards out of the reach of his opponent.
“He almost had you. You’ve got to be quicker than that,” the dark-haired man shouted, the one who was standing at the head of the training grounds, feet planted firmly on the ground and muscular arms folded tightly across his chest. He was older, probably around the same age as Titus, and from what you had gathered, he was in charge of training and conditioning the gladiators at the ludus.
Gallus only glared in response, his mouth turning down in irritation as he lunged at his fellow gladiator, the two of them engaging in the brutal power struggle once more.
At the sound of Phoenix clearing her throat beside you, you spun back around to the task before you, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks.
“Enjoying the show?” she teased, smirking knowingly as she wrung out the tunic in her hands with a forceful twist. “There are many in Rome who would envy you, you know. Getting to see all this, up close and personal. And for free, too,” she added with a laugh, blowing a loose strand of dark hair out of her eyes.
Your cheeks were positively burning now as you dropped your gaze to the basin in front of you and reached for another piece of dirty laundry to scrub clean. “Oh, no, I was just—well—I’ve never actually seen a gladiator fight before. I was just a little curious,” you admitted sheepishly, carefully running the bar of salt that was burning your palm over the filthy tunic you’d just lifted from the pile of dirty linens that you and Phoenix had collected earlier.
Phoenix’s hands stilled as she sat up straighter and looked at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked. You weren’t sure you had ever seen Phoenix surprised before in all these months you’d known her.
“Aren’t you Roman by birth?” she questioned, arching a dark brow curiously.
“Yes,” you murmured in response, feeling almost embarrassed of your heritage. Your people—if you could even still call them that—were the ones who had stolen your friend from her homeland and sold her into a life of slavery.
“And you’ve never seen a gladiator match before?” she demanded, as if she simply couldn’t believe something so outlandish could be true.
You sighed, brushing a bead of sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. “Well I was only a child when I—my parents never took me—and neither did any of my masters. I’ve never even stepped foot inside the Colosseum,” you confessed, scrubbing at the laundry until you felt your fingertips would bleed.
“Hm,” Phoenix murmured thoughtfully, shaking her head before getting back to work herself.
“Have you? Ever been to the Colosseum, I mean?” you asked curiously. Though the two of you were around the same age, you felt that Phoenix had a sort of worldliness that you didn’t possess. You trusted her to explain things to you that you’d never experienced yourself, or didn’t understand.
She nodded, sitting back on her heels as she bent over her work. She draped the tunic she’d been wringing out over the edge of her basin as she pressed a fist into her lower back, deftly massaging the ache that throbbed there. “A few times. My last dominus would take his wife and daughters to the games sometimes, so I’d accompany them. And I’ve been there a couple times with Domina,” she added, doing her best to refrain from rolling her eyes at the mention of your mistress. “But we never stay long. She always complains of the heat.”
“I’ve only ever seen it from the outside. Are the games as grand as everyone makes them out to be?” you wondered, sitting back on your heels as well and taking a moment’s respite.
“They can be,” Phoenix nodded, tossing her long braid over her shoulder. “It depends on who’s hosting the games, and how much they’re willing to invest. Those who want to worm their way into Caesar’s good graces usually pay for at least a week’s worth of games, sometimes with exotic animals and chariot races. The crowds go wild. You’ve never seen a place so packed with people in all your life.”
You shuddered slightly, your skin crawling at the mere thought of it. Maybe you wouldn’t like the Colosseum so much after all.
Just as you were about to ask Phoenix to tell you more about the games, however, you heard a familiar voice from behind you.
“Hey, you two, back to work!”
Titus’ jovial face suddenly came into view, the old medicus circling around the two of you until he was planted in front of your wash basins, grinning down at you.
“All we do is work, old man. Our fingers might just fall off soon, and then where would that leave you?” Phoenix joked, lifting yet another wet garment to wring out.
“Hopelessly lost, that’s where,” Titus winked. “They’ve got you on laundry duty, eh? Tough break, my girls. I’ve never met men who stink so badly in my entire life,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he gazed across the training grounds at the pairs upon pairs of fighters.
“We’ve dealt with worse,” Phoenix said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as she glanced over at you.
“Ah, I see,” Titus nodded, eyes twinkling as his focus shifted towards your face. “Is that right, Sabina?”
You looked up and met his kind eyes, those eyes that seemed to look within and know you in a way you didn’t understand. You smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s no trouble,” you answered him, picking up the bar of salt once more.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Titus responded, though there was no judgment or condemnation in his tone. He simply continued to look at you for a moment, a curious tilt to his head, before his smile returned in full force. “But I won’t pry, especially considering how kind you’ve been to help me around here.”
In the past couple weeks since you’d assisted Titus in caring for Gallus, you’d been tasked with more duties around the ludus. You had a feeling it had something to do with a private conversation the medicus had had with Dominus. In addition to your chores around the villa, you were now also responsible for tasks such as cleaning the gladiators’ cells while they were out training, delivering meals to the men, and tending to any injuries—and there were many of them. Occasionally, on days like today when the laundry wasn’t being sent out to the fuller, you and Phoenix were responsible for that as well.
Domina had not been happy when your master had first brought up your new assignment.
“I need her here in the house with me. That Greek slut assists Titus enough as it is. Take one of the other girls if he needs someone else. That fat cow from the kitchens. Oh, what’s her name? Flavia! He can have her,” Aurelia had pouted, tossing her dark blonde locks over her shoulder.
“He asked for Sabina, and Sabina is who he shall have,” Dominus countered evenly, taking a long sip of his wine. He didn’t even look up from his cup as he spoke to his wife.
You stood before your masters with your head lowered and your hands clasped in front of you, trembling slightly. You wished more than anything that they would just dismiss you.
“But I told you—”
“Enough, Aurelia!” Atticus suddenly barked, slamming his hand down on the low dining table.
You and your mistress both jumped.
“There are plenty of slaves in this household who can braid your hair and paint your face,” your master snapped, waving away the slave who approached to refill his cup. “But there are very few who Titus trusts with the care of my gladiators, and so if he says this girl is needed, then she is needed. And that is where she shall go.” Atticus stood suddenly and towered over his wife, who lifted her head to look up at him. “Do not forget who is the head of this household,” he ground out through gritted teeth before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.
Aurelia sat silently on her dining couch for a moment, stunned into a rare state of speechlessness. Dominus rarely spoke to her so harshly, and he rarely refused to give in to her demands, so it was clear she was reeling.
But only for a moment.
When she turned her head to look at you, her dark eyes narrowed sharply. Rising gracefully, as was her way, she adjusted her stola, her bracelets clinking along her slender wrists.
“Look at me,” she demanded coldly, grabbing roughly at your chin until you obeyed and lifted your eyes.
“I don’t know what game you think you’re playing here, but I see right through you. Don’t think I don’t,” she whispered, her voice edged with something dangerous.
“Domina, I’m not—”
Her slap hit you like a clap of thunder, the sound of it bouncing around the room until it rang in your ears. You resisted the urge to step back and cup your face, knowing it would only make her angrier, although you couldn’t stop the tears that sprung to your eyes unbidden.
“I did not ask you to speak!” Aurelia snapped, adjusting her rings as though irritated you had disturbed them. “If my husband commands you to go work in the ludus, then there isn’t much I can do about that. But know this,” she muttered, stepping closer to you and grabbing your wrist so tightly that you almost cried out in pain. “If the day comes when you grow swollen with the bastard of a savage, I will throw you out of this household faster than you can cry for mercy. So I’d keep those legs closed if I were you.”
You did your best to swallow back your tears as you gazed up into the cold eyes of your domina, the pain in your wrist shooting up to your elbow as she twisted cruelly.
She smiled. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Domina,” you nodded meekly, nearly gasping in relief when she finally released you.
“Get out of my sight,” Aurelia dismissed you with a careless flick of her hand, tossing herself back onto her dining couch and calling out to the other slaves to fetch her something to eat.
“She’s a miserable bitch,” Phoenix muttered later, after you had told her what happened. The two of you were sitting alone at the end of the table in the corner of the kitchen, Phoenix carefully examining your bruised wrist.
“Phoenix,” you whispered frantically, gazing over both shoulders. “You shouldn’t say such a thing.”
Your friend waved her hand in the air, a look of defiance flashing across her face. “Oh, what worse can they do to me? And besides, she is.”
“I don’t understand why she’s so upset,” you sighed, tears pricking your eyes once more as you thought of her violent treatment earlier. “And what she said—I have no intention of—”
“Of course you don’t,” Phoenix said in a soothing voice, resting her hands over yours and squeezing gently. “Ignore her. She’s just projecting her own fears onto you.”
You cocked your head in confusion, looking at your friend. “What do you mean?”
Phoenix looked back at you, startled, and then started laughing. “Oh, my sweet friend,” she murmured, lifting your hand and kissing it in a sisterly fashion. “You truly are too good for this awful world. Are you telling me you’ve been in this household for nearly three months and you really don’t know?”
“Know what?” you blinked, beyond perplexed at this point.
Sighing softly, it was now Phoenix’s turn to glance over her shoulders. Satisfied that no one was around to eavesdrop, she leaned in closer. “Aurelia has quite the taste for those savages she supposedly loathes so much,” she whispered, lifting her eyebrows pointedly.
It took a moment for the pieces to connect in your mind, but then your eyes widened. “You mean Domina is—”
Phoenix nodded, covering your mouth with her hand. “She might consider them barbarians, but she certainly can’t get enough of them in her bed. I can only imagine how terrified she is that one of them is finally going to get her with child.”
You blanched at that, your jaw falling open in shock once Phoenix released you. “D-does Dominus know?”
“He’s not a stupid man,” Phoenix shrugged. “Everybody else knows, so why wouldn’t he? But he turns a blind eye. You know how he is. He pretty much lets her have whatever she wants,” she muttered. “Except,” she emphasized, “his Pugiones.”
Pugiones, you had come to learn, was the nickname Atticus used for his champion gladiators—of which Gallus was the foremost. You weren’t sure why, but it suddenly made you feel less sick to think that your mistress hadn’t gotten her claws into him.
“So she hasn’t—?”
Phoenix shook her head. “As far as I know, she only sleeps with the newer recruits, the ones Atticus doesn’t care as much about. He puts all his money and attention into his stars. They’re the only ones that are off limits.”
“How many gladiators does he own?” you asked, realizing you didn’t even know.
She thought about that for a minute. “It’s hard to keep track. We lose some, and then we get some more. But I think at last count, we were up to thirty.”
Your eyes widened at that. You hadn’t realized it was so many. Besides Gallus, you’d really only ever seen a couple others, and only from a distance.
“You’ll get to know them when you start helping me and Titus,” Phoenix said, as if she had read your mind. She hesitated a moment, then added, “Just don’t get too attached. There are many who don’t come back.”
It had only been two weeks, and your friend’s warning had already proven to be true. As you began assisting with the medical care of the men, you spent much of your time among the newer recruits, the men Dominus had only recently acquired, who lacked the skills and training necessary to fight without badly injuring themselves. When they left for their bouts in local arenas or the Colosseum, many of them did not return. But Dominus always refilled the ranks with more, determined to build an elite army of gladiators.
You didn’t see much of the Pugiones. As seasoned as they were, they didn’t injure themselves quite as often, and Titus and Phoenix usually managed any issues that they had. There had been a few instances where you’d felt their eyes on you, but you always kept your gaze averted and avoided them at all costs. You didn’t want any problems with Domina.
Today, however, as you watched them all fight, you realized that you didn’t know much about them at all. You didn’t even know most of their names. Phoenix had said it was often better that way, but it seemed that you should at least know the Pugiones. After all, they were the champions. They always returned.
After speaking to you and Phoenix for a few more moments, Titus turned and began walking around the perimeter of the training arena, watching a few of the men in particular with those careful eyes of his.
That’s when you turned to look at Phoenix, dropping the tunic you’d been scrubbing into the basin. “Would you mind telling me a little bit about them?” you asked, nodding your head in the direction of the stars of the ludus. “I feel like I should know something, especially if they’re the most popular gladiators in Rome,” you added, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Phoenix smirked, standing up slowly and stretching her arms over her head. “Oh, alright. I’ve known those idiots for quite a while, so I suppose I can tell you a little bit about them,” she grinned, taking your hand and pulling you up beside her. “Come, let’s act like we’re going to hang some of these linens up to dry,” she said, handing you an armful of damp clothing.
As the two of you walked, you passed by one gladiator who was practicing sharp thrusts with a long, pointed sword. You’d learned that when it came to simple practice bouts, the men used wooden swords. Perhaps they had become too elite, and Atticus feared arming them in his own home.
“That’s Caius,” Phoenix whispered, glancing briefly in his direction. “He grew up in Egypt. He can’t even remember where he was actually born, but he’s been a slave most of his life. See the long shield he carries? He fights as a Secutor.”
You nodded to show your understanding, trying not to stare too long. He was handsome, now that you could see him up close, with a strong jaw and a focused gaze.
Next up was a tall, lean gladiator with skin like ebony whose size belied the gracefulness of his movements. His shield was similar in shape to Caius’, but slightly smaller.
“Pollux,” Phoenix whispered. “They often call him ‘The African.’ I know you wouldn’t think it to look at him, especially now, but he’s one of the funniest people I know. He’s a Murmillo. Similar to the Secutor, but you can see his shield is a little smaller.” She stopped a moment to adjust the pile of wet tunics in her arms. “Sometimes he gets paired to fight with Felix,” she explained, nodding her head in the direction of the gladiator practicing beside him.
Your eyes landed on the shorter man, with tan skin and a head full of riotous black curls.
“Why doesn’t he fight with a sword like the others?” you asked quietly, noting the trident and net that Felix held in his hands instead of a sword and shield.
“Felix is a Retiarius,” Phoenix told you, keeping her voice low as the two of you continued to walk. “He fights with the trident and net, as you can see, and very little armor. The Retiarius is popular in the arena, but he has to be skilled to survive. Felix is the best there is of his class.”
You and Phoenix stopped short when you came closer to the main ring, where Gallus and his light haired opponent were still battling one another.
“I believe you’re already acquainted with Gallus,” Phoenix murmured with a sideways glance, chuckling under her breath.
Embarrassed, you glanced down at your feet for a moment. Your attention was drawn back upwards, however, at the sound of the men’s loud grunts.
“And who is that?” you questioned quietly, looking intently at the man that Gallus had been pitted against. From what you could see, they were almost evenly matched in skill and ability.
Something flashed briefly in Phoenix’s eyes, but she quickly scoffed and shook her head. “They call him Carnifex. He lives for the attention the crowds shower on him,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “He’s smug and arrogant and hates the fact that the crowds love Gallus just a little bit more than they love him,” she went on. You noticed that she hadn’t taken her eyes off him, even as she complained about him. “He’s a Murmillo, like Pollux. From Gaul originally. They tried to execute him there, but even the hangman could not kill him. That’s how they gave him his name.”
“And their trainer?” You glanced over at the older dark-haired man, the one who was still watching Gallus and Carnifex with the eyes of a hawk.
“Magnus,” Phoenix stated. “He’s a Rudiarius. He used to be a gladiator—one of the best, in fact. So good that he finally earned his freedom. Now Atticus pays him to train his men and make them the best of the best. He does a good job of it, too.”
The two of you stood quietly for a moment, listening to Magnus bark out orders, which Gallus seemed particularly resistant to.
“Magnus fought in the Thracian style,” Phoenix explained, glancing over at you. “It’s the same style Gallus fights in now, so he’s particularly hard on him,” she said, her voice softening slightly as she looked over at her friend.
You glanced between Phoenix and Gallus for a moment, and couldn’t explain the sudden lump that formed in your throat. Unbidden, the memory returned of Gallus demanding to know where Phoenix was when you’d gone with Titus to patch him up.
“You and Gallus—I mean, it’s none of my business, of course, but the two of you seem very close,” you stammered, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. “Are you—?”
“Me and Gallus?” Phoenix asked, throwing her head back with a laugh. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. He’s like a brother to me, nothing more,” she assured you. “He and I have known each other a long time, that’s all. We’re comfortable with each other.” She turned to look at you. “We belonged to the same household before we got sold here, so we look out for each other, you know? The same way I look out for you now,” she smiled, slinging an arm around your shoulders.
You smiled in return, feeling an odd wash of relief.
“He and Carnifex really seem to be going for each other’s throats,” you murmured, your eyes widening as you watched the two of them lunge back and forth, their half naked bodies glistening with sweat in the midmorning sun.
Phoenix sighed, nodding. “Old rivalries don’t really die,” she said under her breath.
You blinked in confusion. “But they’re from the same ludus. Surely they don’t actually fight each other?”
“Not now,” Phoenix agreed, pursing her lips. “But Carnifex didn’t always belong to this ludus. When he and Gallus were first starting out, first making names for themselves, they used to get pitted against each other all the time. I think there’s a part of them that can’t really let that go, even now.”
The both of them seemed to be tiring out now, their breathing growing more labored as their swords and shields clashed. You realized, looking at them and all the many scars that littered their bodies, that these were men who had been pushed long past the point of human endurance. They’d been forced to fight and fight and fight for so long that they didn’t even know how to stop anymore.
Suddenly, however, with a move so swift your eyes nearly missed it, Carnifex knocked the shield from Gallus’ grasp and dropped him to the ground, the larger man grunting as he landed on his scarred shoulder.
“You’re getting slow in your old age, Gallus,” Carnifex smirked, standing above him triumphantly with a smug expression on his admittedly handsome face.
From his spot on the ground, Gallus glared up at him, his dark eyes stormy and filled with barely suppressed rage. Lightning quick, his leg shot out and swiped at Carnifex’s feet, knocking him onto his back.
“And you’re getting complacent in yours,” Gallus shot back coldly, the tip of his wooden sword planted into the sand, mere centimeters from Carnifex’s face, as he pressed his knee into his chest.
“Alright, that’s enough for today, you two,” Magnus called out, lifting his hands up into the air. “That’s enough.”
Gallus and Carnifex both rose from the ground with quiet groans, neither looking at the other as they separated.
Magnus slowly approached Gallus, looking up at the larger man as he began speaking. “Gallus, that was good work out there today, but you need to—”
You watched in surprise as, without even looking at his trainer, Gallus pushed past him with a frown and stomped off to the trough to get some water. Gaze slipping back in Magnus’ direction, expecting him to scold or punish Gallus for his insolence, you were even more surprised to instead see a flash of hurt cross his face before he turned away and began talking to the other gladiators.
“What was that?” you asked Phoenix, your curiosity piqued despite yourself.
“I have no idea,” Phoenix told you, lifting her shoulders as if in surrender. “Something happened there, but no one knows what. They used to get along just fine, and then one day it was as if Gallus couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as Magnus. But he won’t talk about it, and I won’t push.”
You nodded, accepting her response and leaving it at that. If even Phoenix didn’t know what the problem was between Gallus and his trainer, then it certainly wasn’t your business.
“Ladies,” Titus called out to the two of you, approaching quickly. “Finish hanging those things to dry, and then come meet me back here. I need you to tend the Pugiones today while I deal with the other men,” he sighed, rolling his eyes skyward. “Six broken fingers, three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and four teeth knocked out. These new recruits will be the death of me.”
Hurrying off, you and Phoenix made quick work of the laundry and then returned to the training grounds, where all the weapons and shields had already been carefully collected and stored away. Your dominus was nothing if not fastidious in the management of his ludus, and nothing was to be out of place.
The newer recruits, the ones that Titus said he would deal with, were gathered at the far corner of the grounds, some of them lying flat on their backs, while others sat clutching at various injuries. You could hear their moans of pain even from where you stood.
The Pugiones, however, were stoic and silent as they sat upon the low stone wall on the outer edge of the training arena, waiting for you and Phoenix to come tend to their wounds, which were decidedly much less pronounced than those of the younger men.
“None of them got hurt too badly today,” Titus explained, appearing over your shoulder and making you jump slightly. He wasn’t a small man, but he did manage to be stealthy when he needed to be. “Just your usual bumps and bruises. With two of you working, it shouldn’t take long to see to it,” he said, nodding his head once with certainty. He started to walk away, then turned back to look at you. “Oh, Sabina, I would appreciate it if you could check on Gallus’ injury, the one from a couple weeks ago. I removed his stitches just the other day, but he’s being a stubborn mule, as usual.”
The medicus didn’t even give you a chance to reply before he was off again, whistling a jaunty tune as he made his way over to the other gladiators.
“Is he sure he doesn’t need one of us to help him?” you murmured, biting down on your lower lip. You suddenly felt a strange knot developing in the pit of your stomach. “The newer men’s injuries seem so much worse. Surely only one of us needs to tend to the Pugiones.”
“Oh, would you like me to go help Titus and you stay here alone?” Phoenix asked, giggling at the horrified look on your face. “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing,” she smiled, bumping your shoulder with her own. “Titus likes to handle the new recruits on his own as much as possible. He knows how hard it can be when you come to care for someone, and then they don’t come back, so he tries to spare us that as much as possible,” she explained, her smile dimming slightly as she reached for the basket of medical supplies that Titus had left for you. “Come on, let’s go deal with this lot.”
As the two of you approached the men, who somehow seemed even larger and more handsome the closer you came, Carnifex looked up and smirked, releasing a low whistle.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite Grecian goddess, Phoenix,” he called out, a twinkle in his eyes, which you now noticed were a startling shade of green.
Phoenix smirked in return, stopping in front of the Gallic gladiator and dropping her basket at his feet. “Well if it isn’t my least favorite gladiator, Carnifex.”
Pollux, Felix, and Caius snickered at that, which earned Caius, since he was the one sitting beside Carnifex, a sharp elbow to the ribs.
“Ow,” Caius complained, rubbing at his side with a frown. “Come on, you set yourself up for that one.”
“You know Phoenix could probably drop you faster than all the rest of us, right?” Felix jumped in, laughing. You liked his laugh. It was open and easy and quickly made you forget that he was one of the fiercest fighters in the Colosseum.
“And she would, too!” Pollux added, chuckling. He glanced over at you as he said it and smiled. He had a nice smile.
It was funny. You’d been so terrified at the thought of living in a household with these men, but they were so—ordinary. They weren’t monstrous killers. They were just men.
Carnifex grumbled under his breath, his eyes quickly taking in Phoenix’s figure before he looked away.
“Aw, don’t be mad just because Gallus bested you today. He’s bested us all,” Caius grinned, earning him another shove in the ribcage.
Gallus, for his part, just sat quietly on his perch, gazing forward without looking at you or anyone else.
“I’ll have you all know that you’re making an absolutely horrible impression on our new friend here,” Phoenix scolded them, holding up a hand in your direction. “See, Sabina? I told you they were idiots, the whole lot of them.”
“Oh, so this is Sabina,” Pollux smirked knowingly, shooting a glance down the line at where Gallus sat, his spine stiff as he stared straight ahead.
“We’ve heard good things,” Felix nodded. “From Titus, of course,” he added quickly at Pollux’s subtle nudge. “And Phoenix.” He held out his hand towards you. “I’m Felix,” he introduced himself with a grin.
You found yourself smiling as well as you stepped forward and placed your hand in his, shaking it firmly.
“I’ve already told her who all of you are and all the stupid things you do, so don’t think you’ll be impressing her,” Phoenix grinned, reaching into the basket to pull out a vial of acid vinegar and some clean bandages.
“Aw, but you love us, Phoenix. Don’t pretend that you don’t,” Caius pretended to pout, winking playfully in your direction.
Phoenix merely harrumphed in response, ducking her chin to mask her smile.
“Alright, Carnifex, you’re first up,” she said, grabbing his hands and examining the knuckles. “Looks like Gallus really put you through your paces today.”
Carnifex bristled at that, his back straightening. “A cheap trick he pulled at the end. I would have had him otherwise.”
“You would have had him if you weren’t so cocky,” Phoenix shot back evenly, glaring at him.
You couldn’t help but notice the look that passed between them as they stared into each other’s eyes, some subtle challenge, some underlying current of tension. 
Maybe it wasn’t Phoenix’s relationship with Gallus you should have been asking about.
“So,” Pollux cleared his throat, cutting through the sudden strain in the air. “Sabina,” he called out to you as you began lifting Caius’ knuckles and examining the damage. “How long have you been a part of the esteemed household of Atticus Cornelius Juventus?” You didn’t fail to detect the note of sarcasm in his voice as he asked the question.
“Nearly three months now,” you replied, dabbing some acid vinegar onto the fresh cuts you saw littering Caius’ hands and forearms. “My last dominus passed away and his property was auctioned off, so I was sold here.”
“Three months? And this is the first we’re seeing of you?” Felix questioned in surprise, his dark eyebrows rising as he looked over at you.
“I work mainly in the villa, for Domina,” you explained. The tension returned to the air at the mention of Aurelia. “I had never been inside the ludus before, not until a couple weeks ago when Titus asked me to help him.” Care for Gallus, you left unsaid, but when you glanced in his direction, you found that his eyes were suddenly on you.
“Well lucky for us then,” Caius grinned down at you as you carefully wrapped his hands in white linen strips. “You really do have gentle hands.” At the sound of Gallus clearing his throat, he hastened to add, “Unlike Phoenix here. She manhandles us worse than Titus.”
“Mhm, and it’s what you deserve,” Phoenix smirked, finishing her work bandaging a cut on Carnifex’s arm. She pointedly avoided his gaze as she moved down the line to Felix.
“There you are,” you told Caius with a smile, glancing up at him when you were finished.
“Thank you, Sabina,” he smiled in return, flexing his hands carefully.
As you stepped back and started to move towards Pollux, Phoenix suddenly stopped you in your tracks. “Oh, I’ve got Pollux. He and Felix don’t have many injuries today. Why don’t you go check Gallus like Titus asked you to?”
You weren’t sure why it suddenly felt like everyone’s eyes were on you, but you had never wanted to run and hide more than you did in that moment. Knowing you couldn’t do that, however, you simply nodded and offered your friend a tight smile. “Okay,” you said softly.
Heart fluttering uncomfortably inside your chest, rather like the birds Dominus and Domina kept for decoration in the garden, you approached Gallus while staring down at your bare feet. Soon enough, however, the intensity of his gaze drew your eyes upward until they were meeting his dark ones. They were a dark brown, you realized, as the sun hit them. They were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen.
“Hello,” you stuttered, your mind recalling the last time you had truly spoken to him, when he had apologized for his behavior the first time you’d met.
“Hello,” he murmured in response, his voice even deeper than you had remembered it. He sat completely still as you moved closer to him, his eyes never leaving your face even as you ducked your head to gingerly lift his hands and examine his knuckles.
Feeling uncomfortably warm under the heat of his stare, you found yourself entranced by the many scars that traced their way across the backs of his hands. Your thumb lightly brushed against his bruised knuckles, and you couldn’t tell if it was him or you who shivered in the midday heat.
Reaching for the vial with trembling hands, you carefully dabbed at his very minor injuries with the acid vinegar, admiring the way he didn’t even flinch at the sting. You were so focused on wrapping his hands with bandages that you didn’t notice the way he was now staring at your arm.
“What happened?” he asked quietly, reaching out to lightly brush his calloused fingertips against the yellowish bruise that was still marring your wrist.
Startled, you glanced down in embarrassment, your skin feeling hot where he had touched you. “Oh, nothing,” you answered quickly, mortified at the memory of where that mark had come from. “I’m just clumsy, that’s all.”
Gallus wasn’t buying your excuse, not for a second. “That isn’t a mark that comes by accident or chance,” he said, stilling your movements as he raised your wrist up with a surprisingly gentle hand and further examined the bruises—the ones that matched perfectly with the shape of your domina’s fingers. “That’s a mark left by a human hand.” There was something in his voice as he said it, something rough and angry, but you knew it wasn’t an anger directed at you.
“It’s nothing, Gallus,” you murmured sharply, his name slipping off your tongue as you pulled your arm from his grasp. You softened when you saw the way he stiffened. “Please,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly over that one word. “Just leave it alone. I promise I’ll be more careful.”
“You’re not the one who needs to be careful,” he said in a low voice, his eyes narrowing. There was something dangerous in the way he said it, a veiled threat that wasn’t meant for you, but that made you shiver all the same. His eyes softened a fraction when he realized his words had unsettled you. “Forgive me. I’m a brute, as Titus never fails to remind me.” His fingers closed over yours for a moment as you finished bandaging his hand. “I just—I don’t wish to see you hurt.”
“Nor I, you,” you whispered, swallowing past the lump that had lodged itself in your throat once more. You cleared your throat, mindful of the fact that the others were sitting just a few feet away from you, though they seemed lost in their own conversation. “Speaking of Titus, he wished for me to check how your healing is coming along,” you told him, raising a hand towards his chest.
Gallus was silent for a moment, just looking at you, but then he slowly removed the straps attaching his armor to his body, giving you an unrestricted view of his naked chest.
Titus really was a master medicus, for the mark of his stitches was already fading fast, a clean line across Gallus’ chest that would hardly stick out amongst all the other scars marking his body.
Taking a breath, you stepped in between his legs and ran your fingers over the wound, freezing when you felt the way his body tensed under your touch. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” you asked in concern.
“No,” Gallus said stiffly, shaking his head. “It no longer pains me. I’m fine, really. You don’t need to check up on me.”
“Titus said you were being stubborn,” you told him with a small smile, glancing into his eyes as your hands stilled on his chest.
“Titus would know,” Gallus muttered, a tiny smile gracing his own features. “He’s one of the most stubborn men I know.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, and it pleased you to see Gallus’ smile grow wider. He had a lovely smile, made all the lovelier by the fact that he didn’t seem to smile often.
“So will you be around here more often then?” Gallus asked after a moment of silence, watching as you stepped back and began to pack up the remainder of the supplies. “With Phoenix and Titus, I mean.”
“Yes, I think I will,” you nodded. You weren’t sure what possessed you to say it, but you suddenly added, “So I suppose you’ll be seeing more of me.”
Gallus didn’t say anything in response to that, just continued to gaze at you with a thoughtful expression on his face.
Before you could embarrass yourself further, Magnus suddenly appeared in the middle of the training grounds, calling out to the men. “I’d like to speak to you all for a few moments,” he announced, noting that Titus seemed to be almost finished tending to the younger men.
The rest of the Pugiones rose, bidding you and Phoenix farewell, but Gallus remained where he was for a moment, his thoughtful expression turning to a frown.
“Gallus, Magnus is calling for all of you,” Phoenix told him, hefting the basket and resting it on her hip.
“He can wait for a minute,” Gallus snapped, in a tone that was evidently harsher than he intended, considering the apologetic glance he threw Phoenix’s way. Sighing, he slowly rose from the wall and glanced between the two of you. “Thank you, Sabina,” he murmured, lightly touching your arm before he turned and made his way over to where the rest of the gladiators were gathering.
“The two of you seemed cozy,” Phoenix whispered after he had walked away, nudging you with a playful wink as she helped you clean up the rest of the supplies.
“We were just talking,” you insisted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you avoided her gaze.
“Mhm,” Phoenix grinned, resting a hand on her hip. “But there are very few people who Gallus enjoys talking to,” she emphasized, nudging you again with a laugh.
You were saved from further interrogation by the unexpected arrival of Hrodebert, one of Atticus’ chief stewards in the household. You didn’t deal much with the stewards, but you’d come to know him quite well over the past few months because of his close friendship with Phoenix. A quiet and studious man who had been kidnapped from his homeland in Germania when he was a child, Hrodebert had developed an affinity for numbers and figures, which was why he was one of the most trusted members of Dominus’ household, so trusted, in fact, that Atticus had placed him in charge of the accounts related to the ludus.
He squinted in the sun as he approached you and Phoenix, and you felt a stab of sympathy for him. Over the years, Hrodebert had been expected to stay up all night, burning the midnight oil while poring over accounts and ledgers, and it had significantly impacted his eyesight. There were times, you knew, when Phoenix stayed up at night to help him in secret because of how badly his eyes ached.
“Hello, Hrodebert,” Phoenix greeted him, momentarily forgetting about your interaction with Gallus as she approached her old friend. “What brings you over to the ludus?”
“You and Sabina,” Hrodebert replied, his mouth twisting into an apologetic frown as he looked from Phoenix over to you. “Domina is demanding—ahem, asking—for your presence in the villa. According to her, you’ve spent enough time over here with—and I quote— these filthy savages.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “And you’re to clean yourselves up before you enter her presence.” Grimacing, he added, “I’m sorry. Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“It’s not your fault, Hrodebert,” you told him kindly, resting a reassuring hand on his arm. “Thank you for coming to get us.”
Hrodebert smiled, nodding. “Of course. I figured it was better me than someone else.”
“You’re right,” Phoenix nodded as the three of you began walking back towards the villa. “Because another messenger I might just shoot.”
You and Hrodebert couldn’t help but laugh at Phoenix’s indignant tone.
As your two friends began walking ahead of you, chatting about some account that Hrodebert was trying to organize, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder at where the gladiators were currently in the midst of some sort of debriefing with Magnus. And though you knew you shouldn’t be seeking him out, your eyes somehow landed immediately on the tall, broad-shouldered Briton who had quickly become the most challenging puzzle you’d ever encountered.
Your heart skipped several beats when you realized that his gaze was fixed on you as well. Nearly stumbling over your own two feet, you turned hastily and followed after the others.
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He couldn’t explain the ache in his chest as he watched you walk away, being swallowed up by the impenetrable walls of the villa of Atticus Cornelius Juventus, but it persisted all the same.
You had consumed his thoughts these past few weeks, ever since that day when he’d opened his eyes to find you standing above him, your hands as gentle as a dove when you touched him.
It would only grow worse, this ache, now that you were working around the ludus more frequently. He didn’t know if he could stand it.
But he also couldn’t stand the thought of you staying away.
Watching you disappear inside the villa, he felt an unsettling fear snake its way up his spine and squeeze his heart—or what was left of his heart, anyway. Those bruises on your wrist. He couldn’t get the sight of them out of his mind’s eye. And he knew exactly who had put them there, even if you wouldn’t say. That miserable bitch. She took anything that was beautiful and good and crushed it for her own sick amusement.
The thought of her hurting you made him want to burn that villa to the ground.
He had to talk to Phoenix and Hrodebert, had to make sure that they protected you where he couldn’t.
Where he couldn’t? Had he deemed himself your protector now? How could he protect you when he couldn’t even protect himself?
But he would protect you. Of that, he was certain. He didn’t understand the feelings that you had awakened inside him—he didn’t want to understand them—but he knew that he would do what he had to do to keep you safe.
As he and the others began trudging their way back to their cells, exhausted after a long morning of training exercises, he was pulled out of his silent reverie by the conversation happening around him.
“She was sweet,” Felix was saying, running an exhausted hand through his dark curls. “And Phoenix likes her a lot, so clearly we can trust her.”
“Titus likes her, too, so that’s two strikes in her favor. If she can win over that grumpy old man, then there must be something special about her,” Pollux nodded in agreement, rolling his aching shoulders back.
Gallus realized they were talking about you.
“Pretty, too,” Caius added, waggling his eyebrows with a grin. “You think she has a thing for gladiators?”
“Stay away from her,” Gallus said sharply, causing all of their heads to turn in his direction.
Pollux and Felix exchanged a look, while Caius and Carnifex raised curious brows.
“Do you have a thing for the pretty new slave girl, Gallus?” Carnifex asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “And here we thought you were celibate, considering how you never seem to—”
“Just stay away from her,” Gallus said darkly, taking a tense step in Carnifex’s direction. “She’s here to help us, not to warm your beds.”
Carnifex smirked challengingly at Gallus, but the rest of them threw their hands up in surrender.
“We’re not going to bother her, Gallus. You have our word,” Felix promised, looking at him seriously.
Pollux and Caius quickly echoed his sentiments, and even Carnifex finally relented and nodded in agreement.
There were very few people on this earth that Gallus liked, and even fewer that he trusted, but his fellow Pugiones were among them. Even Carnifex, as much as he may have disliked him most of the time. If they gave their word that they wouldn’t bother you, then he knew it was as good as a blood oath.
“We need to look out for her, the same way we look out for Phoenix,” he told them, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the villa. “Don’t let anyone else bother her either, otherwise they’ll answer to me.”
The rest of them nodded, exchanging silent glances once more. They’d never seen Gallus, usually so aloof and cold, like this before.
“Alright, men, let’s get some rest before Magnus drags us out for some new form of torture,” Carnifex announced, stretching his arms over his head.
Letting out tired groans, they nodded and headed off to their own cells. As the champions of the ludus, they were each afforded their own space, which was more than could be said for the newer recruits.
As Gallus trudged into his cell, he pulled off his sandals and dropped down onto his bed, ignoring the fresh pitcher of wine that had been left on his table. His body ached and his joints popped as he rolled over, staring at the wall and trying to get the image of your face out of his mind.
It was no use. As he drifted off into a restless sleep, he could see nothing but the beauty of your smile, hear nothing but the melody of your laughter, feel nothing but the gentleness of your touch.
In all his years risking his life in the arena, fighting for the entertainment of those who had enslaved him, he had never felt as helpless as he did when he thought of how he could do so little to keep you safe.
You held him captive, and for the first time in his life, he found that he didn’t mind.
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transplantedmate · 1 month
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Good Omens Fic (short series): The Road Leads South
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TL;DR: AO3 link for a fluffy Aziracrow series I just posted
Happy Valentine's Day peeps!. Or, if that's not your vibe, happy day after pancake day ❤️🥞 I have it on good authority there will be a chocolate sale tomorrow.
I wrote a series of fics! They're a Valentine's day gift for Foamfollowerisfallen, and they've been kind enough to let me share.
This is a short set of stories -all connected, but can be read standalone as well. They're drenched in happy fluff. In them, Aziraphale & Crowley explore what it's like to settle into their new, post-S3-happy-ending life, culminating with their first night at the South Downs cottage.
The whole series is 7.4k words. The stories have different ratings (G. T and E); please mind them and the tags as always. (Each story's individual blurb and link are below if you prefer that.)
Featured: South Downs Cottage, St. Valentine (the holiday), St. Valentine (the saint), duck pictures, happy tears, so much fluffy love, cameos by Muriel, Nina and Maggie, references to The Little Prince, Ovid's works, Jane Austen, reference to Liszt, softness and cuddles, (bad) sex advice from ancient Rome.
Also infinite thanks to @adverbian for being the beta of my dreams.
Give it a go if you like, it would make my day.
Hope your day goes well, I send you my love.
P.S.: Art is a wee drawing by me. [This was initially an embroidery pattern I made, then I added a few lights/shadows while sipping Malbec.]
Part 1:
Bleeding Hearts Bistro (rating: G, words: 1.8k)
Before the South Downs cottage, there was a coffee date, and a simple request.
Excerpt:
Crowley looked again. Slotted against the bottom right corner of the frame – camouflaging against the deep brown feathers of the mallard – was a key. He looked up, eyebrows raised, and his heartrate sped up to match the pitter-patter of raindrops on the canopy.
“Right, I was… look, I was hoping…” Aziraphale began, but floundered. He paused, steeling his hands around the now empty cup of tea and finding his resolve.
“Crowley, my dearest Crowley. A long time ago you asked, you said… you said that you would like to spend the rest of… well, of whatever we have, together. To go off together.”
Part 2:
Sleep (rating: T, words: 2.8k)
It's been a long day of packing in the bookshop. Crowley takes a nap, and Aziraphale decides he wants to know what sleeping might be like.
Excerpt:
Aziraphale had been surprised in recent times to find that reading was no longer his main priority. It hadn’t been an extreme change; he would still happily spend hours poring through the many manuscripts and tomes he had proudly collected over the centuries. Yet he had gained an irrevocable appreciation for the things that could not be learned from a page alone. In fact, he had found that experience itself was a key component of truly understanding the words he read, allowing him to see familiar works in new light. There was new meaning behind Jane’s words, for example, now that he knew the joy of a fleeting touch or a brush of lips on his own flesh.
He wondered if, perhaps, the same may be true of dreams – or, at least, of sleep.
Part 3:
Insomnia (rating: E, words: 2.8k)
They've made it! It's their first night in the cottage, but sleeping in a new bedroom proves tricky... Will this lead to another type of "first"? Aziraphale's choice of reading material doesn't help (or does it?)
Excerpt:
He gently pushed Crowley into the wall, holding him gingerly right above the hipbones. Crowley nibbled at his lip between kisses, and gasped deliciously when Aziraphale returned the favour.
Ever since he had picked up the habit of actually sleeping – luxuriously entwined in the warmth of Crowley’s long limbs and soft skin – Aziraphale’s desire to try every form of physical affection had only grown stronger. They were no strangers to exchanging kisses and caresses by now, but their intimacy thus far had been tempered by the frequent presence of others in their orbit. Now, in the privacy of their own home…
Aziraphale would concede that some of his curiosity was also fueled by his most recent reading material.
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alektowrites · 1 year
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Hymnus Throni (teaser)
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PAIRING: Foreign duchess! Irene x Princess! Reader _______________ WARNINGS: Light Royalty AU, marriage of convenience, bickering, foreign royalty Irene! Let's pretend Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome didn't beef with one another (Troy oop), S2F2L, somewhat Roman-descent! Y/N, somewhat Russian-descent! Irene, mommy - I mean IRENE HAS A RUSSIAN ACCENT, mentions of war, minor character death, tension, mentions of war, Percy Jackson and The Crown reference, smut in the future scenes so more warnings will come because come on, Irene's the MAIN warning 🥴🥴🥴 _______________ A/N: Hymnus Throni means The Throne's Hymn in Latin.
And I'm sorry this took so long 😭, my circuits were fried while I drafted this one-shot.
This is requested, by the way.
Enjoy <3333
________________ Terminologies:
Moja koroleva - my queen Dorogoj - darling
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"I'm sure you've heard of the Baskovanian Kingdom from the North, where a lord who goes by the name of Alexie Gavriil; saved my life during the war, and in return for saving my life, I grant him one wish." He paused, "What did he wish for?"
Your stomach churns as an answer pops into your mind. You refuse to believe it.
No, no, no.
It can't be true-
"Marriage, between the two families." The guests gasped.
"Today," He declares, "You all will bear witness to a political arrangement between two influential empires!" He gestures a hand in front, and the crowd immediately parts except for the captivating woman. "Between Empress Y/N Valeria and Grand Duchess Irene Gavriil. Bow before your new rulers!"
The resplendent woman, Irene Gavriil, strides toward you like a lioness stalking her prey. Her eyes hid her scrutiny and annoyance well. As she approaches, the guests go down on one knee to bow before your bride. Their heads ducked as she took confident strides toward you and your father.
The emperor steps away from you to join the witnesses, smiling from ear to ear as the grand duchess stops in front of you. Her sapphire-blue eyes swirl with enigma and intelligence before she too, goes down on one knee, her eyes never leaving yours as she takes your right hand, her gloved hands gently holding your hand. You can hear your blood drumming against the back of your ears. How the temperature of your body drops from her intense gaze and how your stomach churns at her proximity. Your knees almost gaze out when her plump, pink lips press a kiss against the back of your palm. She never broke eye contact in doing so, and the crowd squeals as she stands.
And finally, she spoke. Her voice is raspy but sultry and alluring, with a hint of a soft accent that leaves your spine shivering.
"We finally meet," The side of her lip curls to a cold smile, "Moja koroleva."
Her icy gaze pierced through you. You reply with a smile, but your eyes harden, and your face stings with anger, annoyance, and frustration. Your smile drops to a venomous scowl.
Marriage never appealed to you. Even at your age, you never thought of marrying. You saw it as a means of tying someone down to a forced commitment, made to be caged inside a tower and squeeze out heirs.
You don't want this.
You'd rather travel around the world and paint the wonders you've seen than be bound to someone you haven't met.
Political marriages are damned, all of it be damned. Irene moves to the side. You were snapped out of your raging stupor when you felt her lean to your side and snaked her arm around your waist.
Her touch prickles your skin as she pulls you close to her side to face the guest who cheers for you two. You instantly stiffen at her proximity, allowing you to inhale her subtle but sweet scent.
She directs her head to your ear, her eyes never leaving the crowd as she whispers in your ear; her cold breath fans the outer lobe, and her raspy voice fills your ears.
"Smile, dorogoj." She commands with an icy, hushed tone, "If you want to fool them, including your father, I suggest you smile and pretend to be happy with this god-forsaken arrangement."
Begrudgingly, you catch on but you are unable to match the excitement of the guests with the declaration of your union. You cast a side-eyed glance at the foreign grand duchess, her gaze is just as hard and seething as yours.
At least you're not the only one who's not happy with the arrangement. That's what you can both agree on.
You're royally screwed.
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Coming soon!
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jde-kiyoshi · 11 months
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Been a while since I did any Loonatics stuff. And I intend to do more soon. Had this idea of the Loonatics dealing with another time-related incident. Only this time, they actually travel, albeit unintentionally. Also, I created my own original villain! That's rare. Was gonna use Time Skip, but I decided to just create one. His name's Dr. Slick-Tock! Lame, I know :p So, the Loonatics are investigating weird stuff related to time travel and the villain behind it intends to take over the world through time travel. They won't let that happen! While they're fighting Dr. Slick-Tock, the doctor messed around with the magic hourglass and they all get scattered through time, but Rip managed to hold on and now he's having a tug-of-war moment with the doctor. Meanwhile the rest of the team take in the weird surroundings. Here are the time periods they're stuck in: Ace - Feudal Japan (1603-1868) Lexi - Ancient Greece (500 BC–323 BC) Duck - Wild West (1865-1890) Tech - Regency Era (1811-1820) Slam - Ancient Rome (27 BC-476 AD) Rev - The 1980s (1980-1989) Jacques - The Age of Exploration (1558-1603) Tori - The Roaring 20s (1920-1929) Rip - Some Post-Apocalyptic era (????-????) Let's hope the guys actually get to go home and stop Dr. Slick-Tock!
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ancientcharm · 2 years
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Roman mosaics. Different times and places but the same theme.
The cat, the chicken and the 2 ducks: an ancient Roman obsession
1- Central panel of a floor mosaic, mid-1st century BC / Republican era. From the triclinium of a suburban Villa in Cecchignola. (Palazzo Massimo Museum, Rome)
2- From House of the Faun, Pompeii, mid-1st century AD, Roman Empire era. The upper one is a cat grabbing a chicken; the lower one has living ducks, representing everything the Romans loved on their table: two ducks (here with lotus flower buds in their beak), four little birds (tied by the legs), shells and seafood, including fish. (Naples National Archaeological Museum)
3- Opus vermiculatum, Vatican city. Late 4th century AD, Roman Catholic Empire era. (Vatican Museums) 
Public domain pictures via Wikimedia Commons
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mikaharuka · 1 year
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My Dive into Latin Pet Names
So, those of you who've read A Study in Hands probably noticed the Latin pet names. Well. I did quite a bit of research into that, particular to names from ancient Rome (the Poems of Catullus were a notable source alongside other academic studies of letters and graffiti).
(I swear, the hours I've lost to research holes...)
There were expected names, a lot of diminutives, animals, honey-like terms, and other names that made a lot of sense. Here's what I found!
Tagging @mrsmungus, @aislinnstanaka, @udaberriwrites, @lena-hills and @danceswithdarkspawn, since you might be interested.
Note - names are specific to a male subject, where applicable
Carissime - my most dearest Dulcissime - my most sweetest Bellulus - little beauty Mellitus - sweet honey, darling, lovely . Anaticulus - little duck Columba - dove Lepus - hare Palumbulus - little dove Passerculum - little sparrow . (Mi) Amor - my love (Mi) Anime - my soul, my beloved one (Meum) Corculum - (my) little heart, sweetheart (Meae) Deliciae - my darling, my delight, my pleasure Dulcis - Sweetie (Mi) Lepor - my delight, my charm (Mea) Lux - my light Mel - honey Meliculum - little honey Melimelum - honey-apple (Mi) Ocelle - my little eye, apple of my eye (Mea) Rosa - my rose (Meum) Suavium - my sweetheart (Meum) Verculum - my little springtime (Mea) Vita - my life (Mea) Voluptas - my joy, my desire
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frc-ambaradan · 1 year
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Topolino #3489 exclusive variant cover by Marco Gervasio and Mario Perrotta for the XXIX edition of international comic book, animation and gaming convention Romics (Rome, 6th-9th October 2022).
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silly-sirenz · 1 month
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Hi! I was wondering if I could get matched up with a Hazbin character
• My pronouns are she/her
• I am bisexual
• I’m quite reserved and introverted, one to Belen’s into the crowd and not one to stand out, but once you get to know me I can be very open and expressive. An introverted theater kid essentially. I’d also say I’m pretty kind, but can also be sarcastic. I can also be a bit mischievous as I like to do random stuff because I think it’s funny. Despite all this I’m still a more lower energy person and am pretty calm, the mediator and quite mature (I’m told). The therapist friend who also needs a therapist if you will. But that more hyper part of me definitely comes out more intensely if something I like is involved
• My interests are in drawing, writing, engineering, and ESPECIALLY music as I have a very large imagination and am constantly thinking up new scenarios with different characters. I also loves rocks and have a rock collection, and find interest in other small things that I’ll dip my toes into (like abandoned Disney animatronics, mechanics of roller coasters, Ancient Rome history, etc) but I also love media such as anime (Naruto specifically), NATM, Hamilton, Greatest Showman, and more
• I am also an INFJ
• Uh… I have epilepsy (not photosensitive), I get very socially anxious depending on the scenario but am getting better about it, I don’t like fake people, and I have trust issues. I am also in a choir
I hope this is enough information for you! ^^
Hellooooo that's perfect! 🖤
Now hear me out. You have been matched with...
🐤LUCIFER🐤
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● You're not like the other sinners... it intrigues him. You're level headed, calm, and just... Nice.
● One day he found you drawing and the man was in AWE.
● "You drew this? It's AMAZING!! Do you have anything else?"
● He really admires your creativity.
● Slowly but surely, a friendship between you blooms into something more...
● One day, he approaches you, uncharacteristically shy.
● "Hey. I made you something..."
● You look down at what he's holding. It's a duck made from one of your favourite rocks. He's so thoughtful!
● Attatched is a note. It reads:
I love you to the moon and quack. Be Mine?
●It's corny, but you love it, and you gladly accept :)
● When you become official, get is proud to show you off. Constantly telling people how talented and sweet you are.
● He shows Charlie the art you've made. She loves it too!! (And she offers to buy some to brighten up the Hotel.)
● You become each other's muses. Forever inspired, forever in love.
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omniblades-and-stars · 2 months
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WIP Whenever I Don't Care You're Not My Real Dad
I got tagged by @korblez for this. So I'm gonna post something that is 100% absolutely his fault. I haven't written a ton this week, so this is what I have to offer today.
I'm brain dead for real after the week I've had work. So you, if you're reading this, I have tagged you. Yes, you! Go forth, share with us.
Without further ado snippet of the thing I'm working on (sorry, not sorry):
BLOOD & GRENADINE
The pair walked casually to a small table set in a corner. It gave them a good view of the entire ballroom. And the view of the ballroom?
It was like someone watched far too many ancient vids about old Hollywood parties, with the old art deco style with the dark walls and solid line accents to break it up, but instead of stylish gold, they embedded weak cyan lights into the wall. The effect was like looking at old computer chips except it gave you a migraine if you stared at it too long. The lights cast strange shadows.
Across the room on the far side were rows of floor to ceiling windows and glass doors that led to high balconies with large ferns planted in cement planters cast with thick, angled lines to further ape a time long since passed. Those Zaeed couldn't find any faults with. Maybe a drink or two in, he might have been willing to even say that he liked them. Three or four and maybe he'd put on a trilby and start talking like an old school mobster for shits and giggles, schee?
“Too many goddamn windows,” Zaeed muttered.
“We'd be sitting ducks if there was a sniper out there,” said Garrus at the same time.
Negative one.
They sat across from each other and Massani wasted no time in perusing the drink menu. Fancy wines, over-priced liquor, cocktails that cost enough to feed a family for one night. Ah well, when in Rome and all that. He was going to get a drink. Just add it to the tab for Red to reimburse him for.
“Are you really going to drink tonight?”
Zaeed raised his eyes only scooch off of the menu to respond with a wink, “You want people to believe this is a dinner date, or what?” Usually, he just drank his liquor straight, whiskey, bourbon, vodka - shit, it didn't really matter. That burn as it went down was what reminded him that he was still breathing. Taste didn't really matter when you were often scraping the bottom of the galaxy's barrel running hither and yon chasing down assholes for credits. Didn't mean he was a man without taste, he just knew how to turn it off, measure his expectations. “'Sides, one drink isn't gonna do anything to me except cost me enough credits to buy a new scope for the old Mattock.”
Garrus' mandibles fluttered briefly as he considered the wisdom of Zaeed's defense. Or more accurately, considering just how often he'd seen him with a tumbler of some brown liquor or another during the years that they'd been working together now. Given the truly unbelievable number of bottles left over as evidence of Shepard and Zaeed's contest (the number of which could have killed a krogan), it was within the scope of belief that drinking one cocktail wouldn't make a dent in the man's sobriety.
Having decided that Zaeed was correct, Garrus picked up the menu to peruse it himself. The offerings of dextro safe wines and liquors were unsurprisingly small, and included dual-chirality options that were just right out. Those were never good. He'd be better off chugging a bottle of rubbing alcohol based on taste alone.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I'll be your server tonight,” a chipper young woman with curly hair interrupted their ponderance of booze and its variations with a broad smile on rosy cheeks. “Dinner will be served in about fifteen minutes. May I get you something to drink while you wait?” She was a pretty girl, with masses of curly brown hair that were barely wrangled into a braid, and doeish, brown eyes that looked far too happy to be living on Earth post-near-apocalypse.
Zaeed heard a rumble in Garrus' chest, that same one that always came before he made a bad joke. And coupled with the daring glint in those baby blues of his, Zaeed knew that it was on. “Hm, I don't know. Darling, what looks good to you?”
Even.
“For you, love, the Brandy Alexandrus. You have quite a sweet tooth,” Zaeed practically purred without looking up from his menu. Blue was going to have to try a lot harder than that if he wanted the merc to crack. He sat through Shepard's god awful speech before hitting the Collector base without so much as cracking a grin. Besides, he'd definitely been to dinner with a helluva lot worse than the likes of the smug turian across from him. At least he was reasonably certain that Vakarian wouldn't try to kill him by the end of the night.
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twistedtummies2 · 9 months
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AU Tags for My TW Stories
After my previous ask, I decided to take some initiative and went through my Archives to create a Taglist for my AU stories and posts, in particular, for Twisted Wonderland. So far, there are five AUs of note...
sea lion au - The Sea Lion AU is a universe where Leona, Jack, and Ruggie are pirates. Vil is the governor of a pirate city. Originally, Azul and his boys were the owners of a tavern, but I’m thinking of retconning that to something else by popular demand. :P
black dragon au - The Black Dragon AU is a universe inspired by “The Shadow,” and other staples of old-age pulp magazines, radio shows, and comics from the 1930s and 1940s. (Also some sneaky references to Darkwing Duck.) In this universe, the MC is a vigilante known as “The Blackbird,” and Malleus is their arch-nemesis. Leona and Azul are both gangster-type supervillains (think along the lines of Black Mask and the Penguin from Batman). Other characters are still being worked out, and once again, some retcons may be done.
fairest crypt au - This tag refers to my Vampire AU for Vil and the rest of Pomefiore. I called it “fairest crypt au” after the title of the first story, “Fairest From the Crypt.” This is so, if I ever want to create a vampire au for another franchise, I don’t have to have so much confusion. :P not so big ‘n’ bad au - This is a fairy-tale AU with Jack Howl as the “Not So Big and Bad” Wolf. Only one story so far. gladiator au - Couldn’t think of a creative title for this one. :P In this universe, Leona is the executioner of gladiators who are “thrown to the lion” in an AU inspired by the madness of Ancient Rome. Again, only one story so far.
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aboutanancientenquiry · 8 months
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“The meal after the victorious battle of Plataea
According to Herodotus, the historian who described the Greek-Persian wars in detail, when the Spartan Commander-in-Chief Pausanias, after the victorious battle of Plataea, entered the scene of the killed Persian General Mardonius: "... he ordered the bakers and the cooks to prepare the dinner Mardonius usually enjoyed. When Pausanias saw the luxurius daybeds, as well as the gold and silver tables loaded with the majestic dinner, he was surprised. As a joke, he ordered his own servants to prepare a Spartan dinner. The difference was so great that he laughed, called all the Generals of the Greeks and said to them, pointing to the two dinners: "Greeks, I called you here to show you the foolishness of the Median ruler who dines like this everyday and moved against us to steal our poverty." We know today many nutritional details of the above scene, namely that the Greek General's meal did not stand out from the hoplites battling under his command. The ration was based on barley bulgur and unleavened barley bread, olives preserved in brine, onions and cured fish wrapped in fig leaves. In his haversack every soldier had salt and thyme to flavor the food, dried figs and a small spit perhaps, for the rare occasion that he would find meat. The army's logistics provided also goat cheese, fresh fruit (figs and grapes in the case of the Battle of Plataea, which took place in late August) and wine diluted with water to give courage to the fighters. The Persians, who, in their vast and multinational troops, served Greeks, Indians and Ethiopians, were supplied by their Theban allies. They also ate barley bread, along with some goat meat, dried dates and almonds. However, the pyramidal structure of the Persian army required Mardonius and his high rank officers to enjoy roasted ducks and peacocks, pilaf flavored with cardamom, honey dripping sweets, wine made from dates and strong barley beer.”
Source: https://olyrafoods.com/blogs/wisdom-treats-blog/the-meal-after-the-victorious-battle-of-plataea
Olyra is the site of a Greek businessman who makes alimentary products inspired by the ancient Greek diet. The information he provides about the culinary habits of ancient Greeks and Persians when these peoples campaigned seems trustworthy. 
I remind here that the question of the motivation of the Persian attempt to conquer Greece is a complex one in Herodotus. But the story reported here illustrates well the theme of the imperial hybris, i.e., of the desire of empires and elites which have already too much to acquire even more through further conquest and expansion.
 I remind also that this report is not a simplistic illustration by Herodotus of some cliché of “Oriental decadence”, as Mardonius is portrayed in the Histories as aggressive and prideful, but also as competent and brave.
And of course the tragic irony of the same story is that Pausanias, the victor of Plataea and savior of the Greek freedom, the defender of the austere Greek way of life face to the Persian culinary luxury, not only adopted some time later the lavish lifestyle of the Persian nobility, but he was even accused of plotting with Xerxes for the subjugation of Greece and was put to death for this reason by the Spartans - through starvation... 
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Bust of Pausanias, in the Capitoline Museums, Rome.
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