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brother-emperors · 8 months

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HAPUNAN MO ANG AKING KATAWAN

I can't...stop thinking about Sulla dedicating his memoirs to Lucullus.......what the fuck.....

Plutarch, Lucullus (trans. Scott-Kilvert)

Lucullus: A Life, Arthur Keaveney

I will probably redesign Lucullus the next time I draw him, but we are. getting somewhere. I want to give him darker hair, I think. but mostly this comic is because I've been playing U-Know's Reality Show album pretty regularly since it was released and Vuja De is one of those songs that really hits when I think about relationships people had with Sulla (either in the positive, negative, or generally kind of messy). it Inspires, it Compels, and I also just wanted to do a 9-panel grid layout because it's been awhile since I've done one. they're Satisfying

#me reading plutarch's lucullus bio for real this time: oh so you were sulla's other wife #anyway ive spent the last half hour re working my yakuza film-gangster genre retelling of the late republic and lemme tell you #lucullus. ohhhhhhh. he's. he's fun #i have never thanked sulla for anything but i AM thanking him for lucullus. the themes we are unlocking. the fashion decisions #i FINALLY get to indulge in. hell yea #komiks tag #roman republic tag #lucius cornelius sulla felix #Lucius Licinius Lucullus #drawing tag

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spacecasehobbit · 3 months

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It makes me so happy that Emerald Fennell has said outright that Felix was doing something shitty in every scene. He's pretty, he's wealthy, he's charming; he's so spoiled with privilege that he can get away with casual cruelty underlying everything he does and still think of himself as a good person.

The fact that so many people can watch Saltburn and come away thinking that Felix is a nice person is both a testament to the quality of Emerald Fennell's writing, and it is a perfect example of how Oliver himself got drawn in by the facade of kindness that Felix presents.

I want her to write so many more things, and I want to watch all of them.

#saltburn #emerald fennell #felix catton #between saltburn and pyw #i've been really impressed so far with her character writing #and the themes that she chooses to explore #felix WAS doing something shitty in every scene #but i'm not used to characters like that being written as such awful people *on purpose* without also feeling clunky #so kudos to emerald fennell for that

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bastart13 · 1 year

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I might have controversial opinions on the "Faerghus Four." Mostly that it doesn't exist, and at worst, it exists to exclude Dedue.

Yes, Dimitri, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix grew up together, but that was as children. While that history is significant to their relationships, it ignores everything after. With the tragedy of Duscur, Dimitri and Dedue became inseparable while Felix was sickened by them, Ingrid couldn't overlook Dedue's connection to the tragedy, and Sylvain's apathy grew.

Past the age of ~15, you can't ignore how Dedue and the tragedy affects their relationships. I don't see just the four of them as a friend group, especially not without him because he's so important to Dimitri and the themes of Faerghus.

#fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri blaiddyd #dedue molinaro #ingrid galatea #sylvain gautier #felix fraldarius #faerghus four #art #i love fe3h and the blue lions but holy shit i have my issues with how the writers and the fandom treat dedue #eg. why the hell was he replaced by gilbert post timeskip??#dimitri and dedue's relationship is so important to both of their characters #dimitri can't stand people ignoring or insulting dedue #including ingrid or felix #and even though sylvain is the one who respects dedue #then it's dimitri who finds the way he treats women uncomfortable #i love the idea of them all as a group becoming friends after character development #but then that includes dedue because again he's very important to the themes and story surrounding faerghus #he deserves friendship and respect and that's part of what he has to learn so he can live freely

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homosexualmorelikehomiesexual · 5 months

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the pig being spitroasted with the blue plastic eye that looks just like olivers. the person turning the spit wearing a pig mask. oliver confronting farleigh as theyre both framed by the catton players stage, with the camera positioned from the pov of the statue of theseus killing the minotaur, which was lit up red. oliver getting roasted by farleigh. oliver monologuing to elspeth about felixs death. youre just turning the handle to the end of the world. happiness seems like loneliness and loneliness killed my world as oliver sips from the bottle he eventually poisons and gives to felix. felix being olivers world. all the worlds a stage. shakespeares folio, midsummer nights dream themes party. this isnt a dream to me, its my house. its my house i can go where i want. oliver inheriting felixs world but not felix. lining the catton family stones ontop the catton player box that contains everyone but farleigh. the nauseating creaking sound of the catton player puppets thrashing around in the box they can never get out of. the creaking of the gurney outside the window as everyones bathed in red light. the second statue in the maze of just a minotaurs head. the statue of a mans head in the fireplace of olivers bedroom. the statue of a truck sitting on the left of the entrance to saltburn. felix driving oliver to prescott in a truck with a fishing lure hanging from the rearview mirror. the gone fishing sign on olivers family home when nobody had actually left except oliver. oliver hooking his fingers in venetias mouth and her later doing the same when she catches onto what hes done. the story about shelley drowning and then venetia dying in a bathtub with signs of a struggle. the overflowing wineglass. elspeths fear of anything wet. venetia and farleigh looking for felix in the lake. its so hot. icarus tattoo. felix lying in the maze with his wings still on during the hottest summer theyve known. sir, the police keep getting lost in the maze. the minotaur statue holding a pig ripped in half.

#finnposting #saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #farleigh start #sorry but this movie was made for me specifically i love motifs and themes #elspeth catton #venetia catton #finns saltburn tag

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brainrotdotorg · 5 months

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how many tasteless sacrilegious dolores dei-themed stripteases and burlesque shows do you think have been performed in elysium. blonde wigs and all white dresses and golden wreathes and all that. no bra obviously. spotlight shining right on the titties to mimic a lung glow effect. dolores dei drag queen performances lipsyncing to vesper-messinian chants

#dont ask me where this thought came from.#at least one pole dancer had a very short-lived war criminal theme going on for a little bit.#she was described the be supernaturally beautiful and all that after all #thinking about what the real world equivalent of that would be... jesus christ striptease?#i dont know why this. happened #i was listening to felix colgrave's infernum and my mind started to wander in the most fascinating way

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fizzydrink698 · 1 year

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consort anniversary | vi sneak-peek

happy second anniversary to consort! as promised, here is the first 2000(-ish) words of consort vi to celebrate the occasion. i hope you enjoy!

word-count: 2667

warnings: references to sexual content, a smidgeon of felix-related angst, a fluffy menace finally makes her appearance

An uneasy sleep must have reclaimed you in the night, because you awakened to soft morning light streaming through the windows – and chambers entirely devoid of Minho.

You sat up, unsteady, the beginnings of a headache already forming. Your thoughts were scattered, muffled as if wrapped in cotton, barely intelligible under the dull throbbing.

An empty bedchamber. Did that disappoint you? The sheets beside you seemed undisturbed, indicating that he hadn’t joined you at any point in the night, hadn’t risen from the couch he’d been sleeping on last night when –

Embarrassment – hot, ugly flashes of it – flared within you, so violent that you physically shuddered in an effort to suppress it. You refused to be so careless again, to risk something so mortifying and so vulnerable as being caught in a position like that.

A tiny voice in your mind uttered thanks for Minho’s order to keep servants out of his chambers until requested. You didn’t want to imagine having to untangle these awful thoughts in front of an audience waiting to dress you for the morning.

The more you dwelled on the situation, the more you could feel something in your chest twist. Shame, perhaps. You couldn’t help but picture last night again and again, your awful thoughts painting over your memories, imagining Minho’s eyes open instead of closed, imagining the curl of his lip as he watched you in disdain, maybe even in disgust–

No.

You felt your expression harden, breath expelling from you in one sharp burst. You hadn’t realised how much anger you could summon at merely an imagined Minho. Already, even at just the thought of him, you found yourself itching to rebuke him, to challenge the contempt you had imagined yourself.

There was a danger that you would spend the whole day in this bed, imagining all the ways in which you could argue with Minho.

So, instead, you forced yourself out of bed, determined to focus on the rest of your day and leave last night firmly in the past.

It was strange to realise just how quiet these chambers were. They were so far removed from the bustling of the palace’s lower floors that even now, as scores of nobles and servants alike rose from their beds and began their days, you could almost mistake the palace for being empty.

The spring morning air was no longer a shock of cold, but pleasantly mild. Perhaps you should make use of the weather today, you thought. It would be good to get some fresh air.

And then, you came to a sudden halt – as a flash of orange caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.

You turned your head, startled, to find a tabby cat perched on the low table of Minho’s chambers, staring you down.

This was not the pampered sort of housecat you had seen in the houses of your mother’s friends during your youth. While this cat seemed well-fed, there were tell-tale signs of the fights it must have gotten into. There was a pea-sized chunk missing from its left ear, and a faint scar on its little orange snout.

Perhaps this was a kitchen mouser? But how had it wandered so far into the palace, all the way into Minho’s chambers? How had it gotten past those heavy wooden doors, not to mention the guards stationed nearby?

You dared to take a step towards it – to no response. The cat continued to stare. Its tail twitched from one side to the other, slowly, almost lazily.

It didn’t move as you approached, instead continuing to eye you with an expression so distinctly unimpressed for such a tiny face.

Of course, the second you lifted your hand towards it, it jumped away from you in the blink of an eye. There was no panic to its retreat, just a vague sense of disdain as it withdrew from your reach.

For one brief second, you were bizarrely reminded of Minho.

To your own surprise, laughter bubbled up in your chest, slipping out between your lips. It lifted a weight off of your chest, leaving you feeling just a little lighter as you observed the way the cat shot you what could only be described as the feline equivalent of a scowl before it padded over to the bed and disappeared beneath it.

Deciding against following the cat and disturbing its hiding place, you chose to head for the door and request breakfast be served outside.

It seemed only right that the lingering worries of the previous night’s events would disappear in the light of a warm spring day.

There was something so calming about the palace grounds in the morning. At your request, a table and chair had been set up at the base of a hill, just by the long winding steps back up to the palace itself, in perfect position for you to gaze out at the huge expanses of land in front of you.

Morning dew budded on the still blades of grass. Clouds slowly drifted across the sky above, the sun hiding behind them, only reappearing at just the moment the air grew too chilly. In the distance, a light layer of fog lingered amongst the trees of the royal forest, retreating further and further with each moment.

There was nothing but peace and quiet.

You breathed deeply, savouring the morning air, as you reached for the last slice of bread. Beside it, in a tiny porcelain dish, sat a little pat of creamy butter. You scraped the last of it up with your knife to carefully spread onto the bread.

Your plans for the day were the same as always. Studying, mostly. You were eager to crack open the most recent council records you could find, already making plans to note down the stances of each member, the factions that might have formed, anything that might be useful.

How soon would Minho talk to his father? How much time did you have to prepare? You should have pressed for more details.

You could ask him at dinner this evening, you realised. It was still such a strange idea, to think that you and Minho could talk to each other so…often, now.

Because you shared a bedchamber, a voice in your mind – one that sounded suspiciously like your mother – reminded you. You should be doing so much more than just talking.

A mouthful of bread lodged itself in your throat mid-swallow, making you cough and splutter as you reached for your tea.

Not that you were particularly eager for that, of course. Last night had been a brief moment of insanity, a sudden break from rational thought, brought on by returning to the bed that held so many strong memories. It had infected your dreams, and even seeped into your sleep-addled actions in the dead of night, but now you had recovered.

Now, once again, you were just as uninterested as he was. Moving to his chambers was good enough to mend your image as a successful, stable pairing. It didn’t matter what happened behind closed doors, because you had gotten what you wanted.

But before you could make an effort to divert your thoughts back towards the day ahead, the peace of the morning was broken.

You watched as a group of palace guards marched into sight, descending the palace steps – and you stilled when you saw the person they were accompanying.

Her Majesty, the Queen.

You sat up a little straighter, as your eyes met across the wide-open space of the palace lawns. She always seemed so perfectly put together, her long dark hair twisted and braided neatly into a bun, the soft and sweeping fabrics of her dress somehow spotless even when brushing against the ground.

In her fine features, there was so much of Felix. You almost wanted to look away.

Instead, you followed protocol to the letter, rising to your feet and bowing your head at her arrival. “Your Majesty.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she replied, and there was a genuine soft note of surprise to her voice that reinforced her words. “If you’re finished with your meal, would you like to accompany me across the grounds?”

You blinked, lifting your head in shock. You’d barely spoken to this woman in weeks. You’d half-expected her to ignore you. You’d half-given up on the affection the two of you had grown for each other during your childhood.

“Y-yes,” you replied, and cleared your throat. “Yes, I’d love to.”

She gave you a smile – one so deeply familiar that it made your heart ache for just a second – and inclined her head, silently offering you the place by her side.

You moved quickly, almost without thinking, barely retaining the grace expected for a lady of your position, as you tried to join her before she could change her mind.

Before the two of you could start walking, however, she first turned to glance at the guards behind her. With a firm, clear voice of a queen, she told them. “I trust I’m accompanied by guards possessing the respect of allowing two ladies some privacy while they talk. Am I not?”

The nearest guard’s eyes widened slightly in understanding, and he hurried to nod at her. “Yes, Your Majesty. Of course.”

“Delightful to hear. The usual twelve paces behind will suffice,” she said, her voice so casual that the comment could almost be described as offhand, before she finally set off. You had to quicken your steps slightly to catch up with her.

And, sure enough, the guards waited until you were twelve paces ahead before they followed – at the perfect distance to remain out of earshot.

This was the woman you remembered from your childhood. Always polite, always charming, and just a little cleverer than she seemed.

You fell into step beside her, searching for something to say to start the conversation. “I heard a delegation from the Lakelands are on their way.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding with a warm smile. “Most of the delegates only came to their position after I left, but I know a handful. Among them is a prince I last saw as a young boy. I look forward to seeing the man he’s now grown to be.”

“That will be nice,” you remarked, looking for something else to say. Something clever, or funny, or charming. It used to be so much easier to talk to her. “Do you miss the Lakelands?”

“Occasionally. Especially in the winter. I’ve never developed a taste for the cold that sets in here,” she said, but there was no trace of sadness in her voice. Nothing wistful. “But what about you? Are you keeping well?”

“Yes,” you replied – but it felt like a half-truth at best. “As well as can be.”

“I’m sure you’ve had so many pleasantries asked about your marriage,” she said. “That’s usually all people can think to talk about, with women like us.”

Her words struck something in you, hooking something strange and raw and tugging it out into the open.

“That’s usually the topic of conversation, yes.”

Her lips twitched, the briefest flicker of a smile. “Then we’ll speak about something else. Are you still keeping to your studies?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, unable to keep your excitement from rushing out. “Practically every day. Mostly, I’ve been focusing on my histories and geography, but I like to brush up on my languages every so often.”

“You did always love studying your histories,” the Queen nodded, and for the first time in your conversation, you picked up on the slightest hint of sadness in her tone.

It sparked a vaguely familiar feeling. An old desire to cheer her, the feeling so ingrained that it felt like slipping on an old favourite coat.

“My new tutor has helped quite splendidly,” you said, with a smile just a touch forced. “I hadn’t realised how much more I could learn with someone following me in my interests, instead of just telling me what I should be interested in.”

The Queen smiled back at you, and hers seemed entirely genuine. “There seems so much to catch up on. I’ve been meaning to talk to you sooner.”

Her words, as light and carefree as she had offered them, managed to hit something deep within you. Your expression faltered, as you felt the words dig into you, like claws gripping your flesh, piercing you.

You blurted out your only thought. “Why didn’t you?”

The question came out in a rush, an outpouring of emotion that you had tried so hard to keep dammed. You watched the way she paused, caught off-guard by your sudden harsh words.

You swallowed, trying frantically to recover some sense of manners. “I mean, I…it’s just I’ve been…I’ve been so alone since…”

“…I know.”

Her gaze grew so soft, as she watched you sadly. There were moments, occasionally, when her eyes were so expressive, just as Felix’s were.

For a moment, you pictured what it must have been like for her, all those years ago. Newly married to a stranger, not just alone but alone in an entirely different kingdom. A kingdom that her father and her father’s father and his father before that had been at war with. A kingdom with a people who mistrusted her, who still mourned for her husband’s first wife, the beloved wife, the wife she must constantly be compared to in public and in private.

You wondered how long it took her to learn to hide those expressive eyes. You wondered if it saddened her to look upon her son, and see those same bright eyes shining back.

“I missed you,” you confessed. “I miss how it used to be.”

“So do I, sweetling,” she murmured. There were only two people in this world the Queen called ‘sweetling’. One was standing in front of her. The other was half a kingdom away, quiet and aching by the coast. “But that’s precisely why I’ve stayed away.”

“What?” You asked, sharp in your confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“There are whispers at court,” she began, before pausing. You detected the faintest exasperation as she continued. “There always are. Right now, they are centred on you.”

“Me?” You repeated. “I haven’t heard anything.”

“Oh, the subjects never do,” she said, her tone sharpening just a touch. You knew she’d had her fair share of experience with court rumours. “It’s no fun for them if the rumour gets dragged into daylight and exposed for the nonsense that it is. Better to let it flourish in the dark, to whisper in secret, and give their empty brains something to spin from nothing.”

“What are they saying?” You asked. You’d half-expected something like this to happen, but you’d always thought your first reaction would be worry, or fear – and yet, right now, the news filled you with nothing but anger.

“They’re harmless, for now. Idle gossip. But if any fuel is added to them, they could prove dangerous–”

“What are they saying?” You repeated, cutting her off. You needed to hear it. You already had an inkling, but you needed it in words.

She sighed. “…Many things. About you and Felix. I’m afraid my son will always be a subject for scandal in your future.”

Felix.

You turned away, eyes searching for the horizon, for something to fix on in the distance.

You hated that this didn’t surprise you. You hated that your paranoia, your constant insecurity about how you were perceived, about how your issues with Minho were perceived, that constant nagging feeling of your marriage being forced under a magnifying glass, was partially justified.

“Anything in particular?” You finally managed to ask when your voice returned to you.

“The stories change every week. Nothing has truly taken hold, which is a good thing,” the queen reassured you. “But until you and Minho…well, when your marriage seemed on shakier ground, I thought it was wise to keep my distance. I thought it would make things easier for you.”

Easier.

Right.

#stray kids #consort teaser #you have no idea how difficult it was to not include the rest of this scene #we're finally getting into family drama #if there's one theme that sums up consort vi it's that #that and 'oh god we can't avoid talking about felix any longer can we? shit'

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daceydeath · 2 months

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Creatures of Chaos Masterlist

Light in the Dark Pairing: Vampire Chan x Human F Reader Genre: Fantasy AU, Word Count: 33.5K Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Supernatural Themes, Drinking, Suggestive Themes

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Final

Light: (One shot) Pairing: Vampire Chan x Female Reader Genre: Fantasy AU, Smut Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Marking, Explicit Activities

A Cup of Magic: (One shot) Pairing: Cambion Seungmin x Nymph Reader Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff, Angst Word Count: 4.5K Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Themes

You had been best friends for a life time so you were well aware how protective Felix was about you and it had never been an issue until it was one.

(Other members coming soon)

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spacecasehobbit · 2 months

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People who watch the entirety of Saltburn and still insist that it was meant to be class commentary, good or bad, are like if Felix had met Oliver's parents and then spent the drive back to Saltburn insisting that Oliver's mom had really sobered up and moved on from his dead dad to marry a new man really quickly. The movie had a twist ending, and I get that not everyone likes a twist ending when they were invested in the story they originally thought they were getting. Not liking the twist, though, isn't the same as refusing to accept that the twist ending changes the narrative entirely.

Saltburn is not about class commentary. It's about loneliness and obsession and how those things can drive someone into terrible choices that ruin their own and others' lives lives in pursuit of friendship with the wrong people.

Oliver tells himself at the end that he wanted the wealth and power of the Cattons, because that's what he wound up with, but he went into things wanting Felix. He started the movie wanting to fit in and have friends.

Oliver pretends to Felix during the movie that he comes from some exaggerated stereotype of Poverty, because he knows that will garner him more sympathy from Felix than admitting that he has just always been an awkward person who struggles to make friends and doesn't connect well with his perfectly normal family.

It's not class commentary. It's loneliness and obsession and wanting approval from the wrong people because their attention seems positive enough to mask that they're just using you commentary. It's lonely stalker meets callous mediocre rich boy who love bombs desperate loners because he likes being adored and it predictably ends Very Badly For Everyone commentary.

You can get class commentary out of it, because Death of Author and all that, but it's not about class commentary.

#saltburn #oliver quick #felix catton #it's one thing to dislike what the themes of the movie wound up being #because you wanted the movie to have the themes you were expecting at the outset #and it's another thing to have the themes revealed very clearly #and stated outright by the creator #and still insist anyway that the movie just did a bad job #at having the themes you *wanted* it to have had

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