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hellenistica1 · 27 days ago

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Playing Favourites

Emperor Geta x Reader

The following work is meant for readers of age 18 or older. Minors DNI

Ao3 Tags: unprotected sex (booo), somewhat dubious consent due to power imbalance (even bigger booo), p in v intercourse, vaginal fingering, boob sucking, afab!reader but no pronouns mentioned, also no use of Y/N

Palatine Hill was perhaps one of the most dangerous places in the entire empire, not just because of the decisions that were being made there, but because of the two men sitting at the very top. The emperors were like feral dogs with the Roman Empire being nothing but a bone that was left on the street. Even the senators, that were supposed to interfere with the amount of damage that the emperors could cause, seemed to tiptoe around them as to not be subjected to their anger.

But the true victims, despite the self-pitying old men believing themselves to have it the worst, were the servants, slaves and concubines. Sometimes they were yelled at, sometimes humiliated. Sometimes they were assaulted with injuries varying from scratches and bruises to deep wounds and missing digits. Sometimes they were even killed in accidents or with the intention of simple entertainment.

Keeping the tempers of the emperors mellow was of utmost importance if you and your fellow serving folk wanted to return to bed unscathed. And by the gods had you made that a craft to be mastered. It was easy for you, really. There wasn't much of an art to it, except for keeping them occupied.

You hadn’t worked as a servant for long, but it also did not take particularly long to figure out that one had to be careful, when serving the emperors. After intently watching for a while, you had concluded that when together, the emperors were much like children. They had to be dazzled and surprised and had their hands to be kept busy with trinkets while simultaneously keeping pointy things far away. Their stomachs had to be full, their thirst quenched and all their senses had to be flooded with sounds, sights, smells and feelings. You intended to take care of exactly that.

Geta was the more mature of them. He was a slightly lesser concern to you, not only because he acted more reasonable but because you had worked much closer to him, feeling like you could estimate his temper better. More than once had you been able to reason with him, when a mistake of a servant had soured his mood. As long as one was devoted and grateful, a small misstep could be forgiven.

Caracalla was slightly different. His anger was much more explosive and irrational, but once it had subsided he wasn’t prone to hold grudges (partially because he had an incredibly hard time, remembering the names and faces of his servants). But his outbursts often came with casualties, which made you focus him more directly.

So, long before the emperors or their senators were awake, you much like the other servants and slaves hurried around to create the perfect environment for two easily bored lunatics. And once that was done, the likelihood of getting injured only sunk slightly. Luckily, you also knew exactly what was to be done once the two of them appeared.

This evening it was a small banquet. Even though the sun was beginning to sink, the august heat was still ruthless and you wiped the sweat of your forehead as you scanned the room to see if anything was missing.

The timing was perfect; just as you mentally gave your stamp of approval, both emperors appeared, basking in the attention that was given to them as they entered. As the guests paid their respects, you moved towards the table to fill their cups. Caracalla's first, as he was more prone to go straight for the food, while Geta most likely would be stopped somewhere along the way.

Today however, the heat made people too sluggish for politics, so as you poured wine, both emperors were already seating themselves. Getas was giving you a puzzled look, as you handed him his cup, but didn't say anything.

The festivities continued without interruptions, though. In addition to the heat, once everybody’s hunger had been satiated, a comatose laziness settled in the room. All the guests lounged about, only really calling for servants to ask for more wine or to have a concubine summoned to them.

Emperor Geta, too was lounging on one of the seats, elbow propped on the armrest to support his head. His other hand gestured with his empty cup towards you. You quickly made your way over, to pour him more wine. But as you meant to leave, he stopped you.

“Do you ever stop moving? Keep me company for a moment.” He sounded annoyed, or maybe bored? Neither was good, so you stayed put, waiting for whatever he wanted you to do next.

For a moment he looked up at you expectantly, before adding in exasperation: “Well, sit. You make it awkward.”

“Of course, my emperor,” you put aside the pitcher of wine you had been carrying and meant to sit beside Geta, but in one swift motion he sat up straight and used the arm, his head was resting on moments ago, to pull you onto his lap.

You were going to say something, you meant to say something. But the heat that crept onto your face felt different from the one that the summer air caused. So instead, only a nervous laugh escaped your mouth.

That at least made Geta grin. He offered his cup to you: “Here, drink. I haven’t seen you drink anything either yet. Aren’t I attentive?”

“Very attentive. Thank you, my emperor,” you assured. The metal of the cup already felt comfortably cold against your skin and as you took a tentative sip, you realized that you were in fact thirsty. The wine tasted sweet and fruity and had that deeply refreshing taste to it all beverages do, when you have craved something to drink for a while. Geta watched you intently and stopped you, when you tried to return the cup to him: “Finish it. I feel generous today.”

You hesitated for a moment, which he tutted at: “Don’t disobey me.”

Once again, he took your wrist and, while spilling some of the wine down your chin, made you drink more. In a few desperate gulps you emptied the cup. Geta took the cup back with a satisfied smile: “Isn’t that better?”

“So much better. Thank you so much, my emperor,” you mumbled and tried to wipe the spilled wine that by now had run from your chin down your neck. Before you could though, Geta ran his tongue up the trail of one of the droplets. From your collarbone all the way to your jaw.

“Do you want more?” It was but a whisper, amused yet expectant. That very expectant tone, alongside the hand that was now rubbing small circles into the fat of your hip, left you wondering, whether Geta was still speaking about wine.

He seemed to bothered by the space still left between the two of you and pulled you even closer, so that you were truly pressed into him, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Hm? Won’t you speak?” Up close, his eyes were even more intense. It felt like he was staring holes into you, waiting for an answer…

And then Dandras climbed up your leg. The sensation made you yelp in shock and Geta winced underneath you. You cradled the monkey in your arms, suddenly remembering where you were. As you got up and looked around, you noticed servants throwing cautious looks into your direction. Much more agitated however, was Geta, who looked as though he was going to skin somebody alive.

“Dandras?” Caracalla called from across the room, still dangling off one of the armchairs. This corner of the room suddenly didn’t feel safe for the little monkey in your arms and you could feel the servants around you growing antsy.

“I’m bringing him to you right away, my emperor!” You called out and turned to get Dandras away as quickly as possible. You felt a tug at the back of your robes, which you assumed was Geta trying to stop you, but you were in too much of a hurry to be sure.

Originally, you had planned to get Dandras back to his owner and then return to Geta. But Caracalla, much like his brother, was in a sociable mood and demanded you to sit with him. Somehow, this lasted a while. Dandras, assumingly aware of the fact, that you saved him from the wrath of Geta, was deeply fond of you, which automatically meant that you were not to leave.

So, you followed Caracalla. For quite a while. You waved a few servants and concubines towards Geta as your hopes of excusing yourself from Caracalla were dwindling. A strange feeling nestled in your stomach as you asked one of the particularly beautiful women to go and look after Geta.

But by now, the festivities had turned the sizzling hot august day into a humid summer night and you were certain that somebody else had taken your spot on Geta. The fact that you already claimed a sense possessiveness over it, in spite of the fact, that you had spent but a moment there, made you sure that it was for the better this way. Besides, you felt at ease. No bloodshed, no frightened slaves, not even an argument that had been blown out of proportion; you felt accomplished if overheated. The hair in the back of your neck was wet with sweat and the fact that Caracalla’s head was resting on your stomach was not helping. He alongside his posse of wine-bearing servants and astonishingly beautiful concubines had sprawled themselves across the marble stairs to the dining hall, where the remnants of today's feast slowly rotted in the humid temperatures.

In spite of the sickly sweet smell of the leftover food and the unbearable heat that emanated from Caracalla, you smiled and played with his hair. He was drunk on wine and giggling as he fed grapes to Dandras, only occasionally acknowledging your existence by readjusting his head on you. Once in a while he hummed pleased, as you ran your hand through his hair.

Caracalla was either about to doze off, leaving you to stay in the position you were in for quite a bit longer, or, which you preferred, would disappear with one or two of the concubines to his chambers. And while you didn't love the idea of spending a few hours on the cold floor with a monkey running around you, there was such an immense feeling of calmness in the room, that you would have accepted it.

The only thing interrupting you from feeling at complete and utter ease was something tugging at your ankle, which was unceremoniously dangling off one of the steps. One of the boys sitting at Caracalla’s feet subtle jerked his chin towards the room. And as you followed his motion with your eyes and found Emperor Geta to look right at you, it dawned on you that your absence was in fact, not quickly forgotten.

Unlike his brother, Geta had chosen to sit on a cushioned seat like normal person with his own gathering of people, who fulfilled his every wish, scattered around. On his lap was the woman you had sent over to him.

He absentmindedly played with her hair, intentionally or unintentionally mirroring what you were doing to his brother. His posture was relaxed but his eyes were wide and watching your every move.

Caracalla, attracting chaos even when he wasn’t intending to, suddenly acknowledged you by holding a grape to your face: “Do you want one?”

A muscle in Geta’s jaw tensed as he watched along. You had to be very careful now. It irked you to look down, as if you were worried that Geta was going to lunge on you like a viper. The calm and almost sweet expression on the face of his brother was such a stark contrast you almost felt bad denying him.

“That is very kind of you, my emperor but...” you looked around desperately searching for a reason you could excuse yourself for. When your mind remained blank you went for the first best thing: “Would you like me to get more grapes for Dandras?”

Caracalla considered and then lifted his head, to release you: “Yes, you shall.”

“Of course, my emperor, I’ll be right back.” And with that your hurried away.

As you walked over, Geta pulled the woman off his lap and stood up abruptly. He wasn’t as harsh as you had feared but the poor unassuming girl did tumble a bit as she tried to stay on her feet. You didn’t have much time to check up on her though. Geta called upon you and it was with great distress that you realized that he knew you by name.

“Follow me.” It was a demand and he did not wait for whether you would obey or not. With your head held low, you tagged behind him, walking past Caracalla and his group of curious bystanders. The confusion on Caracalla’s face grew into a knowing grin, as his eyes travelled from you, only having left moments ago and still grapeless - to his brother, whose face was a mystery to you, as you could only see the back of his head.

“Take your time.” You weren’t sure who Caracalla was talking to but you heard Geta scoff in front of you. No words were spoken as you walked through the silent halls of the palace even though you desperately wanted to ask where exactly he was leading you to.

You had an assumption... but even the thought of uttering it made you feel squeezy. Maybe you had misread the situation. Maybe the emperor was going to throw you into a well or feed you to his own exotic pets, for making him wait for you.

The further you walked the less servants and more guards you encountered until finally Geta walked directly towards a door in front of which two of the tallest men you’ve ever seen stood. With a somewhat impatient wave of Geta’s hand both moved aside.

“Don’t let anybody bother me.” The sound in his voice was surprisingly exasperated. It almost sounded like plea. Neither of the men answered, like you it was just expected of them to comply. Finally, you entered a luxurious bedchamber and found that you had assumed correctly.

You felt a pit in your stomach as Geta slumped onto the silken sheets of his bed, while you stood still in the middle of the room. He gestured you to come closer and you did as you were told.

Once you were within reach, he firmly took you by the waist and pulled you to stand in between his knees at the edge of the bed. His fingers found your hips again and rubbed slow circles into them.

“And you do everything I ask of you?” His voice was low, but when you only nodded your head he became a bit louder: “Speak.”

“Yes, my emperor.” The answer earned you a tug to loosen the rope that gathered your tunic around your waist. Geta laughed at the way your breath hitched.

“Good,” he mused: “Then take your clothes off.”

As if you were in a trance, you pushed your robes off your shoulders and then quickly undid your undergarments. Apart from the fabrics that now gathered around your ankles you were bare and fully exposed to Geta, who was more captivated than you had seen him all evening.

You could feel the metal of his rings on your skin, as he ran his hand up your body. It made the little hairs on your neck stand up. Geta noticed how riled up he got you; his hand rested on your breastbone, where he most likely could feel how fast your heart was pumping.

With him sitting on the edge of the bed and you standing right in front of him, your breasts were somewhat unignorable for Geta. He dropped his hand to pull you closer and -to your surprise gently- ran his tongue over your nipple, while his other hand without much hesitation dipped in between your legs.

You gasped, which Geta took as sign to latch his mouth onto your breast, while simultaneously running his thumb over your clit. As nice of a sensation the tongue of the emperor was, his fingers were what made your body feel hot and aching for more.

Geta started to run his middle finger up and down your entrance and for a moment both of your hands landed in his hair. In spite of it all, it suddenly occured to you that you weren’t certain if you were allowed to actually touch the emperor or whether you were just supposed to stand there. The answer came by itself, as you tried to put your arms back to your sides but were stopped by Geta. The hand that held you in place by the small of your back shot up to place your fingers back in his hair. He groaned as you gave his hair a tug and pushed his finger inside of you.

Your breath became shakier as he started to move his hand in a slow rhythm and you felt the pad of his finger run up and down your walls. You steadied yourself with another tug of his hair as he added his index finger inside you.

The knot in your stomach grew tighter with every circle his thumb drew, very jerk of his fingers and every lap his tongue took of your breast. Eventually you felt it come undone and you came with a pathetic sounding moan. It turned into a whimpering cry, as Geta did not cease his movement and kept fingering you through your orgasm.

With a pop, Geta released your now heaving chest from his mouth and examined his work. Your hands were on his shoulders now. He was still fully dressed, something that agitated him now, as he tore the fabrics of his expensive garments down, until they pooled around his waist.

In a few swift motions he pulled the bottom half of his clothes up and revealed his fully erect cock. The sight of it got you excited though you felt sensitive from your previous high. That was obvious as you gasped just from Geta grabbing you by the waist. He grinned, deeply satisfied with the effect he had on you: “I want you to ride me now.”

For just a second, you considered starting to disobey now, but there was a deep dark hunger in his eyes, that made this thought dangerous. You didn’t have much time to put the thought into action anyway, as Geta pulled you closer and gave you no other choice than to place your knees on either side of him on the mattress. While silk was a lovely fabric, it was slippery and you needed a moment to adjust yourself on top of his lap.

“Come on. Sit.” He was getting impatient and when you finally felt secure enough in your positioning you started to align yourself. A sharp exhale escaped Geta’s mouth as you wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly running his tip through your folds.

You pressed your lips together as you started to push him in, the both of you making sounds of ecstasy. Geta’s eyes were glued to the place where his dick disappeared inside of you inch after inch. His brow furrowed slightly as you stopped to adjust yourself to the feeling of him.

“I said sit. Don’t hover.” With light but persistent force you were pushed all the way down until your pelvises were touching and you gave him a high pitched cry. His hand moved down to your clit again, creating friction, which alongside of feeling way too full was overwhelming. You buried your head in his shoulder, whimpering as you got used to all of him.

“I’ve done a lot of the work up until now, haven’t I?” His voice sounded strained, like he was holding back.

“Yes, emperor Geta.”

“Aren’t I kind?”

“Yes, thank you my emperor.”

“Wouldn’t you agree, that it’s your turn now?” Once again, a demand not a question. You nodded while looking into his dark eyes: “Of course, my emperor.”

“Fantastic.” He let his back drop onto the length of the bed, while reaching for your thighs, motivating you to start moving.

Carefully, you placed your hands on his chest for leverage, before lifting yourself off Geta. A mixture of pain and arousal was running through your body. There was no other way than to exhale loudly, while sinking all the way down to the base of his cock again. As if that would magically make space within you.

A few more times you had to move yourself up and down before falling into a rhythmic bounce. Geta watched you with great interest, eyes growing half-lidded and even darker with lust. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to look; from the way you took his cock, to the way your tits bounced alongside the rest of your body, to the way your face contorted when he hit your most sensitive inner spots. The only thing that bothered him, was the way you squeezed your eyes shut at times: “Look at me. Always. And keep your eyes open.”

You were going to give him another proper response. A Yes, my emperor perhaps. Instead, a pathetic little squeak came out and because you did as you were told and kept your eyes on him, you saw the grin on his face.

At this point, any pain you might have felt from inserting Geta has subsided to pleasure. His tip kept scraping your G-spot and it made you desperate. On top of that, Geta’s hands started wandering. He smacked your ass, when he thought you were losing pace, groped your breasts when he particularly liked the way they moved and finally wrapped one of his hands around your throat. You felt light-headed. His rings pressed into your skin as his fingers were switching between applying pressure and releasing.

You were close to cumming again. And whether it was because you got wetter and wetter around Geta’s dick or because your moans were getting more exasperated, he could tell.

He didn’t remain unaffected either, though. His breathing had grown more ragged and whenever your hips stuttered in their perfect rhythm, his eyes found yours and there was something angry and pathetical insatiable. Like you stopping in your track, would kill him.

Keeping pace was getting increasingly difficult as your body grew warmer and the pit in your lower stomach was forming again. You felt sweat droplets run from your neck downward. You felt a final squeeze on your neck. You felt Geta’s other hand under your ass, trying to keep the pace going. You felt the sting of your exhausted legs, that for odd reasons added to the pleasure. You felt the way his dick dipped into every crevice of your insides. And finally you felt an incredible heat as you came again. You stopped your movements completely, something that made Geta whine.

“No. No. You need to keep going.” His voice was more dispair than anger and his arms made you bounce onto him once, twice more before your hands intuitively grabbed onto him, overstimulated.

Geta, in an act of desperation grabbed onto your hips and as if the world around you hadn’t been shaky already, you were suddenly flipped onto your back. He had switched positions with you and was now hovering over you. You hardly had time to orientate, when Geta was onto you.

The pace at which he was now pounding into you was merciless. You threw your head back with a whimper. It was all too much and you felt tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Geta captured your face and embraced you in a kiss. Or something like a kiss, where teeth clashed and noses almost collided.

Much like the way he was thrusting, it felt carnal. Like a primitive need was being fulfilled. The two of you had become a grunting mess of intertangled limbs. Geta’s pace had become irratic as he pressed into you, his body needing paradoxical things. He needed to be touching every inch of yours but also had to move in order to keep the tension that was building up his upcoming release.

With a final guttural moan into your mouth, Geta came and filled you up. And for a moment you stayed like that. Breath heavy, the sweat and release of both of you running into the sheets while Geta was still nestled deeply into you.

Heavy-limbed he removed himself and plopped onto the mattress next to you. You took the moment to allow your heartbeat and breathing to calm down. With a groan you sat up. You felt sore. Everywhere.

Tentatively, you got up from the bed. It was no surprise that your legs felt wobbly and weak, still you massaged your thighs to get them back to normal a bit quicker. Despite the dread, you walked towards the mirror in the corner of the room to give your reflection a quick check. It was as expected. Your hair was a mess. Your lips and chest were bruised with several marks on your breast that were going to turn into hickeys. With disgust you watched your mirror-self and the white liquid that ran down their leg. Ugh.

You turned back to the bed and your discarded clothes and found that Geta was still on it unmoved, watching you intently. He looked pleases with the way you looked. You cleared your throat: “Would you like me to leave you alone, my emperor?”

“No. I wouldn’t like you to do that,” he said bluntly: “I’d like you to come back here and sleep next to me.”

“It would be an honour, but I promised your brother to bring him...” Geta interrupted you with a groan. He propped himself onto his elbows, and looked up to you with raised eyebrows: “Are you fucking my brother?”

A noise escaped your throat. It was hard to define what kind of noise, but the word escape was fitting and it was not an appropriate reaction to the question of an emperor. Geta did not seem to mind, though: “So no. Do you plan on doing so?”

“What?” This was not at all, what you had expected. You couldn’t even fathom where he might have gotten an idea like that from.

“Then why is he getting special treatment?” Geta sounded agitated, almost childish.

“I’m not sure I understand...” You were once again interrupted by him: “You always serve him first. You always buzz around him. He doesn’t even know your name. What do you gain from doing so?”

There is absolutely no way you can tell the truth. Who knows, how the emperor would react, if he knew that you mainly act as an anti-hissy-fit-force.

“I did not do that intentionally, my emperor. I simply work, where my work is required.” He rolled your eyes at your words: “Well, stop. I’m claiming you as mine.”

“Yours?” You repeated it, a mixture of feelings gathering inside of you. It was a delicate thing, being so close to one of the emperors, but on the other hand... you enjoyed the thought of being summoned to his chambers again.

“All mine. Now come back.” He watched you reach for your tunic: “Keep it off. Please.”

#gladiator #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #geta x reader #emperor geta

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sugar-grigri · 4 months ago

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Pochita, if you can read, why don't you speak ?

Wouldn't it be humane to protect humanity and demonic to protect the underworld? And what if... it was actually the other way around.

The interweaving of questions and answers is exactly what this chapter does.

While Yoru sordidly states that children are nothing more than the property of their parents, the one who can't speak, instead of devouring a human as he did with all those demons, decides to go to the blood drive.

Pochita understood what the sign meant. He knows how to talk. But he'd rather hold up that sign and roar than make any demands.

Worse still, he does not decide to give any orders.

It's not words that symbolise order, it's that raised index finger that already in Roman times expressed command.

In the United States, arms are a constitutional right (as recently reiterated by the Supreme Court, which does not admit of any restrictions), a fundamental freedom but also a means of preserving one's freedom, allowing organised militias to fight and protect the State.

You can see how it's all a construction, the weapons are a technological creation, the State is an administrative and political creation.

And that's where things get interesting. First of all, this chapter is highly symbolic and has a very strong political message (oh my god, political interpretation in a manga, impossible..........)

Yoru has sliced off the index fingers of those who support the right to bear arms in the United States. Or campaign for that freedom. But what Yoru is doing. In fact, it's taking it away from them. How can I shoot without this index finger? You can't do it.

It's by taking weapons away from men that they actually regain their freedom.

But it goes even further than that. Why does Yoru sacrifice these fingers? Because it reinforces the fear of weapons. Let's say I point a gun at you (sorry). You'd be less scared if you were as armed as I am. Especially when you're trained, know how to defend yourself and aren't afraid to shoot.

Yoru makes those who thought they were invincible with weapons vulnerable. She strengthens the Gun Devil's power. She contracts with them through her sacrificed child.

Weapons,

freedom,

deprivation of childhood,

of loved ones,

obsession with a mentor,

To think that a god created them.

Remind you of anyone?

Infanticide is what makes you immortal.

The sacrificed demons become weapons, lost between humanity and the demons. Not being human, nor demon, because they have no parents. Even artificial weapons like Reze and Katana display these characteristics. Isn't loneliness one of the ingredients?

Humanity sacrifices its children. As Fujimoto confirmed, they were prepared to do it for eternal youth.

And now you're going to say to me. NOOOO! Yoru too! Just as Makima wouldn't hesitate to do. The demons are also ready to do it.

Yes, because they are influenced by men.

Yoru speaks, uniting with humanity to say horrible things. Whereas Pochita doesn't speak. Worse still, he has chosen not to speak. Worst of the worst, even worse. He'd rather be a dog than a human. That's his choice.

Pochita fights for those he loves, he doesn't sacrifice them.

The demon of birth, it swallows but can spit out. Suspending existence, giving it new life, denying none of it.

Wasn't Makima devoured by Denji proof of this?

Nayuta is the symbol of this rebirth. A perpetual love that surpasses hate.

Pochita loves demons. He also loves those who mean something to him, like Denji. But he also knows that when we become too human, we can end up sacrificing ourselves out of vanity rather than love.

Pochita has sacrificed himself for love, without expecting anything in return as he waits permanently for Denji's dreams.

He is also Denji's lock, preventing him from fully adapting to men.

That's why killing Black CSM was Denji's wish come true. Because Pochita is preventing Denji from becoming normal.

Because he wants to protect him from humanity. Pochita has never been for humanity.

He is simply the guardian of the underworld, all those demons whose existence he guards, a supreme mother. Humanity must endure in order to continue to be afraid. But if humanity is prepared to overcome the ultimate fear of losing its child, then fear is scorned.

So Pochita tried to wipe out the weapons' existence, to devour them. But they still existed. Why? Because they are already the result of infanticide.

being devoured by the demon of birth, mother of the underworld, actually reinforces their existence.

Being devoured by their mother is the reason for their nature.

Whereas weapons are beings born because their mother has killed them.

Denji is the result of the death of the Supreme Mother.

It's not a weapon.

He's a wall.

Hero of the underworld.

A hero of the underworld who has been fighting from the start for the victory of love, sacrificing himself for those he loves and not sacrificing them. So he asks for blood.

And I'm sorry. If weapons really are born like that, they have to look human, and I think this is the last possessed human.

Someone's been ringing the doorbell.....for 100 chapters… it's time to answer it, isn't it?

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heauxvibez · 5 months ago

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Dipsea

warning: smut (18+)

The cool, freshly laundered sheets clung to your skin as you slipped into bed after a much-needed, steamy shower. The day's stress seemed to evaporate with the rising steam, but now it was truly time to unwind and let go of all the tension that had built up over a long, demanding day. You reached for your earphones, knowing that the only thing more rewarding than this moment of solitude would be indulging in some erotic audio. Like a private hotline tailored just for you, it allowed you to surrender to the sultry, seductive voices of your favorite narrators. They whispered pure, unfiltered filth into your ears, drawing you deeper into a world of pleasure without the need for any awkward human interaction—just you, the intimate soundscape, and the fantasies unfolding in your mind.

Your panties were already pooled around your ankles, your right hand delicately nestled between your thighs, teasing and circling your sensitive pearl as you prepared yourself for an evening of pure release. In your left hand, your phone displayed the app you had come to depend on for these moments. With each swipe, the screen revealed a lineup of male voice actors, their deep tones and sultry narrations making your toes curl. Some of the voices even belonged to celebrities, their allure amplified by the forbidden thrill of hearing them narrate explicit fantasies.

One in particular, Sarunas from Insecure, had become a favorite—his smooth, husky voice bringing his character, Malcolm, the app's most beloved character to life. His words were like honey, you lost count of how many times his verbal seduction had left you trembling with need. His low, rumbling tones reached directly into your mind, conjuring vivid images of the scenarios he described. It felt as though he was speaking just to you, his tongue effortlessly fucking your ear with each erotic monologue, leaving you and countless other fans in a state of delicious delirium.

"Oh my God..." you whispered, halting your endless scrolling as something new caught your eye. The app had just unveiled a new character, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. This was going to be the app's biggest money grab yet, and you knew it.

Introducing Joe, voiced by Roman Reigns.

"No the FUCK they didn’t..." you gasped, your jaw practically hitting the floor. Was this a dream come true? The mere idea of having Roman Reigns' voice—deep, commanding, and intoxicating—whispering in your ear was almost too much to comprehend. He wasn’t your man, but in this moment, with your AirPods snug in your ears, it was close enough to feel real.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you clicked on the tab, and a thrill ran through you as you were taken to a selection of audio stories. There were ten in total, but only one was unlocked—the rest dangled out of reach, locked behind a paywall. The silhouette of Joe’s character dominated the top of the page, a shadowy figure that perfectly outlined the familiar, muscular physique you admired. His broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and chiseled abs were rendered in perfect detail, making your mouth water.

You were tempted, so tempted to splurge and unlock the rest, but you needed to be smart. What if the voice you imagined didn’t live up to the fantasy? The economy was too tight for reckless spending, even for someone like Joe. You needed to know if he could deliver—if his voice would be as commanding and seductive as you hoped. After all, you wouldn’t buy a car without a test drive first, right? Right. You’d sample the free audio, and if it sent shivers down your spine, you’d gladly pay for the rest. But if not... well, better to be cautious than disappointed.

You clicked on the only unlocked audio titled "Watch Part 1 " and quickly scanned the description.

What happens when Joe doesn't want to touch, but simply wants to watch. Click here to find out...

Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, anxiety curled in your belly. With excitement and curiosity, you pressed the small play button, and the screen transformed into a familiar sound display, reminiscent of Spotify or Apple Music. In the center was a cartooned image of Joe, his piercing eyes and chiseled features staring back at you, commanding your attention. Below, the familiar controls—rewind, skip, play, and fast forward—were neatly lined up, ready for you to take control, though you had a feeling Joe would be the one in control tonight.

As the audio began, the first sound that filled your ears was the gentle rustling of sheets, intimate and close, as if he was right there with you. The realism sent a shiver down your spine, making it easy to imagine those same sheets you were currently nestled in being part of the scene. Your eyes fluttered shut, the world around you fading as you became fully immersed in the experience. The gentle movements of your fingers on your clit stilled as you surrendered to the moment, deciding that tonight, you would let Joe guide you. His voice began to weave its magic, and you knew you were in for a night of pure pleasure, letting him tell you exactly what to do.

He took a deep breath through his nose, the sound so close and intimate that you instinctively mirrored the action, inhaling deeply yourself. The connection was immediate, and before you could process it, his voice smooth as silk—filled your ears, weaving its spell around you, nearly hypnotizing you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

"Mmm, glad you could make it. How was your day baby? Exhausting and stressful? Well, I'm here to relieve all that stress for you tonight. Lay back, relax, and allow me to talk you through it."

"Keep those legs open, baby... yeah, just like that. Daddy's going to sit right across from the bed and watch you make yourself cum."

His words were a dark temptation, drawing you deeper into his world. The sheer power in his voice was pulling you under.

"No. I don’t want to touch, I just want to watch."

"I wanna watch you slide those fingers up and down that sweet slit of yours, the same way my tongue does when it slowly glides up and down that clit, chasing after every drop of nectar that might escape and fall onto the sheets,"

"I can almost taste you on my tongue right now, just thinking about it. I could take a sip of you, but I won’t. I'm just here to watch."

Slowly, you slid your finger down as he described, but his voice quickly stopped you in your tracks.

"Not yet, baby. Daddy will tell you when... I promise we'll get there. But first, let me get comfortable."

The sounds of his feet shuffling against the wooden floor reached your ears. You could hear the subtle shift of his clothing as he moved, the soft rustle of fabric making the scene all the more vivid in your mind. The leather of the chair squeaked slightly as he settled in, the noise unmistakable. You could easily imagine him leaning back, relaxed yet in control, one arm draped over the armrest while his right hand lazily stroked through his beard. You were certain of it—he was playing with his beard, the subtle rasp of his fingers combing through the coarse hairs confirming your suspicion. The imagery, paired with his voice, was almost too much to bear.

"I'm drinking every inch of you in right now, that soft melanin skin and the curves of your body are being softly traced by my eyes. Yeah. you are one hell of a sight to see."

"Slip your palms over your breasts, feel those nipples get hard over your fingertips. Yeah, sweetheart. Fuck, just like that. How does that feel? Just like when I caress you, huh? My calloused hands, roaming over those sensitive buds of yours. Remember when I made you cum just from sucking on them? When I had your hands pinned above your head, listening to you whimper, whine and beg me to stop while I sucked and slurped on them? Mmm, I always enjoy how weak you can get for me."

He moaned softly into your ears as you obediently followed his instructions. For a fleeting moment, you considered reaching for your phone to pause the audio, to gather your scattered thoughts and remind yourself that this was just a recording. But the question lingered in your mind—who was this man talking to? How had this app managed to not only secure such an iconic voice but also craft such a sensual, sex-filled script that he delivered with such raw, intimate power?

It was as if he had been in your bedroom for years, learning every secret, every desire, and now he was laying them bare with every word. The way he spoke made it impossible to believe this was just a performance. He was so convincing, so achingly real, that for a moment, you almost believed this was a private call—a direct line from him to you. The fantasy he spun was so vivid, so personal, that it fed into your most delusional thoughts. The line between fantasy and reality blurred, and you found yourself willingly surrendering to the illusion, allowing yourself to believe that he was speaking to you and only you as if he knew exactly what you needed to hear.

"Now trail your hands real slowly from your breast down your belly slowly and draw light circles with your fingers. The same way I do when I want to watch you suffer. There you go baby girl. I know, I know. It's driving you insane to tease yourself so slowly. But I promise, listening to me..you'll cum harder than you ever have,"

"Now go ahead and play with that pussy for me, but take your time. I don't want our fun to end so soon."

Just as you were about to dive deeper into the fantasy, the sound abruptly paused, pulling you out of the seductive trance you had been sinking into. Your eyes snapped open and you quickly turned your head to the side, your gaze darting toward your phone, where the screen glowed faintly in the dim light. A small notification had popped up, breaking the seamless flow of the experience. The sight of it snapped you back to reality,

End of Watch Part 1

Would you like to subscribe to our app to listen to "Watch Part 2"?

-------------------------

Lolololol sorry ya'll, I like to be a tease too! If ya'll like the little audiobook oneshot idea, the next one I can make longer :) Bye!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @wrestlingprincess80 @headoftheetable

@trashbin-nie @tshepisho @saintmagx

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #roman reigns smut #wwe #romanreignsimagine #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns x black reader

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harrysfolklore · 1 year ago

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idk if you’re still taking requests but you should do actress!yn who’s been a long time fan of harry since 1d and a fellow solo harrie and they’re the stars of this movie (maybe a romcom 🤔) and then y/n is so nervous around harry and he teases her?? then they realize they have so much in common and it’s just fluff everywhere 🥲

this is honestly one of my favorite blurbs i’ve ever done and i hope you love it as much as i do! enjoy and thank youuu for the request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram The Bear has been out for a week and you can watch it on Hulu if you haven’t already ok we love u and goodbye!!

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ynfan1 SO SLAY

sza ❤️

ynfan2 ive been here since day one

harryfan1 HARRY LIKED THIS OMG

mtv We stan

harrystyles Amazing show and amazing work from everybody, love it x

↳ harryfan2 HARRY ???

↳harryfan3 his new show obsession now that succession is over

↳ ynfan2 YN IS A LONGTIME 1D FAN LOL I BET SHES CRYING

↳ yourinstagram omg this means a lot, thank you for watching and supporting !

TWITTER

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yourinstagram SEASON FINALE OF THE BEAR AIRS TODAY 🥲 thank you for all the love u all have my heart

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ynfan1 SOBBING

zendaya Congratulations little angel 🤍

ynfan2 SHES THE PEOPLE’S PRINCESS

harryfan1 IS THAT?

↳ harryfan2 IM PRETTY SURE IT IS

mtv Crying over the flowers and note 👀

harrystyles Love, love, love

↳ harryfan3 HARRYYYYY

↳ ynfan3 if this ain’t love then what is

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harryupdates Harry and YN out in London today !

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harryfan1 WEEEEEE

ynfan1 OH

harryfan2 COUPLE ALERT SO DAMN RIGJY

ynfan2 chill i bet they’re just friends

harryfan3 NO WAY

ynfan3 the pipeline from being a one direction fan to hanging out with (maybe dating??) harry i’m so here for it

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theharrytea guysss deuxmoi posted this !! i think it might be about harry omg. thoughts ?

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harryfan1 OOOOHHH

harryfan2 harry in a romcom i could DIE

harryfan3 PERIOD DRAMA YES YES

harryfan4 omg makes sense i hope it’s true we need ROMCOMRRY

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yourinstagram scripts coming in and i’m like:

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ynfan1 YAYYYY

zendaya ❤️

harryfan1 harry liked thisssss

ynfan2 we need a movie now that the bear is over

dualipa LEGEND 🤍

harryfan2 harry what are you doing here

TWITTER

TEXT BETWEEN HARRY AND YN

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yourinstagram first day of filming check !! hiyaaaa costar ⭐️ @harrystyles

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ynfan1 AHHH

jefezoff 🥰

harryfan1 ITS GETTING REAL

ynfan2 imagine going from one direction dan to harry’s co star

harrystyles Hiiiiiiii x

↳ harryfan2 he was giggling and kicking his feet while typing this

↳ ynfan3 they’re in love

gemmachan Love you both ❤️

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harrystyles Which Brings Me to You. Coming Soon.

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harryfan1 AHHHHH

annetwist ❤️

ynfan1 WHY DID HE CHOOSE THIS PIC

harryfan2 y’all it’s joever

alessando_michele 🍒🤍

harryfan3 those saying that they’re dating don’t know what a work relationship and friendship is

yourinstagram 🥹🥹🥹

ynfan2 i soooo ship this

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harryupdates Harry and YN on set of Which Brings Me to You!

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harryfan1 AHHH

ynfan1 i love them so bad

harryfan2 i can’t wait to see this movie GOD

ynfan2 MY FAIRYTALE COUPLE

harryfan3 FAVES

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yourinstagram today is the day !!! world premiere of which brings me to you 🥲🥲 love u all thanks for the support

picture by the costar, awkward pose by meeee

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ynfan1 AHHH GO BESTIE

kaiagerber love you both sm 🤍

harryfan2 HARRY TOOK THIS I CANT

mtv This is my roman empire

ynfan2 no biggie just harry taking pictures of her

harrystyles Amazing photographer, amazing pose x

↳ harryfan2 are we interrupting something?

↳ynfan3 he’s in love

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harrystyles Which Brings Me to You World Premiere. October, 2023.

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harryfan1 BABY

jefezoff 🙌🏻

ynfan1 oh he hot

yourinstagram excuse me u get credits on my pic but i don’t ??

↳ harrystyles Picture by the costar, charming face by my mum x

↳ harryfan1 HARRY 😭

↳ harryfan2 I LOVE HIM SO BAD

INTERVIEWS

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yourinstagram press day ! be ready because tons of content from me and @harrystyles annoying you about our movie is coming sooooooon 🥰

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ynfan1 this is the best day of my life

jefezoff I feel blessed

harryfan1 MY FAVORITE DUO ON EARTH

harrystyles We are charming, aren’t we?

↳ harryfan2 itsg harry has never been more active

annetwist ❤️

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harrystyles We took a Lie Detector Test. The results were pretty interesting. You can watching it in Vanity Fair’s Youtube channel now.

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harryfan1 HEEEELP

harryfan2 WHY DID HE CHOOSE THIS PIC HES SOOOOOO

annetwist ❤️

ynfan1 “have you ever had the hots for a co star before” THEY WEREN’T SNEAKY WITH THAT ONE

yourinstagram liar liar pants on fire

ynfan2 THEY’RE DEFINITELY DATING BYEEEEE

FANS VIA TWITTER

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yourinstagram in words of taylor swift: you’re my lover

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harrystyles

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anyarose011 · 9 months ago

Text

You're a Mean One, Miss Hunham {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Four days into being stuck in an all boy's school for Christmas break, and you're on the brink of insanity. If it's not because of Angus Tully still trying to one up you in history lessons, then it's Teddy Kountze getting a hand on something personal of yours (prick).

Part 2 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, period typical sexism, mentions of pornography, blackmail, minor physical assault, and as always, Teddy Kountze.

You guys don't get to escape being an awkward af teenager just because it's fanfiction, so enjoy! Also, thank you all so much for the love already shown just from the first part alone!

Word Count: 5.0k

youtube

You always knew to put a pillow over your head when you heard your father get up from his bed.

“All right you fetid layabouts, it’s daylight in the swamp!” He smacked two metal basins against each other, waking the boys up if they weren’t already, groaning. “Arise!”

It was funny the first day, but by the fourth, it was unbearable. Still, a part of you was grateful for your father; you never had to get up early and run with the boys in the cold, Massachusetts air. Call it nepotism, call it sexism, you were just glad he didn’t want you to interact with them (physically, that is).

The second day you were there, he called you in during afternoon study hall (leaving you on a minor cliff hanger in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre; forget that it was your third time reading it, it pissed you off). Just like he had done months ago, Paul Hunham hosted a trivia game (whether that was to show you off, or get them to study, you had no idea).

What idea you did have, was beating every single one of them.

For Alex and Ye-Joon, they were babies in your eyes, so you would give them more time to think on their answers whenever they were up. Alex got close on one, but overall, they didn’t do so well.

Oh, the boys your age? Yeah, you didn’t show mercy, even towards Jason.

“When was the last king overthrown?” Your father questioned.

You smacked the desk before Jason could even process the question. “509 B.C.”

“What planets are named after Roman gods?”

“Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.” You recited it perfectly.

Teddy scrunched his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

Your father pursed his lips. “That was the easiest one I have, Mr. Kountze.”

Angus Tully…Angus. Fucking. Tully.

“What emperor temporarily restored peace to Rome and the cost of-?”

Angus hit the desk before your father could finish the question. “-Diocletian.”

“At its peak,” your father eyed you. “how large was the Roman Empi-?”

“2.3 million square miles.” You answered, keeping your eyes trained on Tully.

“Nero had five spouses in total, what was the name of the slave boy he-?”

“-Castrated and married,” you finished for him. “Sporus.”

Back and forth you both went like that, rapid fire at first, and your own levels of exhaustion were catching up to you. After perhaps five minutes of this (maybe ten, twenty, who gives a shit, you were tired), it was one damning question that would haunt you.

“True or false, the Pantheon was built before the Coliseum.”

“True.” You said, slapping the desk with the confidence of a mediocre man.

There was silence in the room, and your father sighed. “False.”

It wasn’t a big deal, it shouldn’t have been a big deal; to literally everyone else but you, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But it was.

Oh, it was.

It was the second time you lost to Angus Tully overall, the first time from an easy question. Still, while Kountze’s grin made you want to rip out his teeth, it was Tully’s outstretched hand that caused you to snap out of it.

“Good job.”

Two of the most hurtful words in academia, whether it meant for it to be or not. Still, swallowing your pride, you shook his hand, and left the room gracefully.

Then started crying as you walked down the darkened hallway.

It wasn’t like you were weeping, you were just frustrated. Thankfully, by the time your friend Elise came to pick you up, you were fine and had a fun day simply walking around town with her.

You bought cigarettes and chocolate at the drug store, then spent the rest of the day at her house, laying on the floor and listening to records in her room while answering her prodding questions.

“Who’s the cutest one?”

“None, they’re men.”

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes, smiling. “I know that, but if you had to choose.”

“Like, ‘if we were the last man and woman on earth’ I had to choose?”

“Sure.”

“A very tall bridge.”

She laughed, shoving you playfully. “I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

“Really.”

Sighing heavily, you thought for a moment, before smiling. “He’s a football player.”

“What?!” She sat herself up. “You and a football player?!”

“Shut up!” You laughed with her, sitting up.

Elise shook her head. “What about the one you went head-to-head with in trivia today?”

“Ew,” was your immediate reaction. “he’s maybe your type, but not mine.”

“So, you don’t want a smart one?” She questioned. “And that’s mean of you.”

“I’m mean to everyone.” You laid back down on the floor. “And yes, of course I want someone who’s smart, but not smarter than me.”

She mirrored you, laying down and leaning her head against yours. “So, he’s out for the count?”

“One hundred percent.”

“If you say so.” Elise reached up onto her nightstand and handed you a letter. “Also, my aunt left something back at the faculty housing and said she found this in you and your dad’s mailbox.”

You looked at your name in the center of it, and then at the stamp: a toy train.

It took everything within you not to sit up in shock. All you did was smile, say thank you, and slip it into your coat pocket.

You gave Tully his chocolates and cigarettes and didn’t have a problem. It was the fourth day when your father had given them just another ounce of freedom outside of the school, allowing them to walk around the wooded area of campus. You still had your books, but you were also feeling lonesome (the only time you really interacted with any of them was during mealtimes, except for Teddy…fuck Teddy), and you had talked about almost every single thing you wanted to talk about with Mary (God bless that women for letting you read to her too).

So, on December 20th, you laced up your boots (not too tightly), pulled on your mittens, and zipped up your jacket to go on a miniature adventure with the five boys.

“I’m gonna teach you how to play football.” Jason teased you as the six of you walked two by two (you and him at the front).

Shaking your head, you smiled more so at the thought of what you’d look like than his obvious flirting (was he even flirting or just being nice? Decades pass, and you still aren’t sure). “Please no.”

“Come on, it’s easy.”

“Roman history is easy.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not; you’re just smart.”

“It’s easy to me. Football is easy to you, see what I’m getting at?”

Jason shrugged. “Suit yourself, Teddy?”

“Say no more.” He responded, brushing past you and running up ahead as Jason threw the football to him and he caught it.

That left you by yourself for just a moment before seeing Angus walk beside you. You turned your head over your shoulder to see Ye-Joon and Alex lagging behind as they talked.

“Boys,” you called them. “try and keep up!”

They responded with a chorus of ‘Yeah’s and ‘Sorry’s.

“So what, you’re like their mother now?” The second most irritating voice belonging to a boy asked.

You looked over at Angus, hands in his pockets as he gazed down at you. “You’re not exactly the nurturing type.”

“You don’t know that.”

Humming, you stepped over a log in the middle of the path. “So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Jason’s here because of his hair, Alex and Ye-Joon’s family are in other continents, I don’t care nor want to know about Teddy, why are you here?”

He didn’t respond right away, before then saying. “I was supposed to go to St. Kitt’s with my mom and stepfather, but then they decided to say it was their honeymoon and ditch me.”

Your gaze turned to him and saw him pick up a stick, dragging it behind him to make a line in the snow. Even just from his profile, you could see the anger withing his eyes; bubbling more violently than a volcano about to erupt.

“That’s despicable.” You stated plainly.

“That’s one way to put it.” He scoffed.

You didn’t know exactly how to follow up such a personal conversation, but you wanted to make him feel better (at this point during the break, only because it was the decent thing to do), so you just said.

“You beat me fair and square both times.”

Angus looked at you. “Did I? At your dad’s bullshit trivia?”

“You did. Well actually, it was just me versus five of you, and I do believe the more I talk to Kountze, the more braincells I lose, so-.”

“-Don’t sell yourself short.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “I know, I was just telling you why I lost to you both times.”

He shrugged. “The first time you had to go against fifteen of us.”

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, genuinely not believing it. “are you suddenly saying that you think I’m smart?”

“I never said you weren’t.” He gave you a look.

“Last time, you looked me in the eye and said you knew more than me.”

That’s what silenced him, and when he nor you said anything after that, you simply walked ahead of him. Hell yeah, you had the last word and made him feel like an asshole (you honestly didn’t know that was possible).

The six of you all caught up with one another, and you spoke with the freshmen boys more about meaningless things (but perhaps that’s what made it so meaningful). Angus, still carrying the stick like he was a child, and it was his favorite toy, said to Jason after talking about if there was anything else to do in Barton.

“What about your car? We could take it, go somewhere, Boston maybe?”

“Nah, we’d get in so much trouble.” He shook his head, nudging you. “Little miss perfect here would snitch on us.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “I would not. Besides, it’d be easier to say you all kidnapped me, and everyone would believe me.”

“Face it,” Jason passed the football back to Teddy. “we’re stuck.”

“If we just had some way to get out of here.” Angus kicked a patch of snow. “Just split.”

Jason pointed towards the quad. “Well, you could put a chopper down right in the quad.”

“A what?” Angus furrowed his brow.

“Helicopter, dumbass.” Teddy mocked. “His old man’s the CEO of Pratt and Whitney.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, he’s go his own bird. He takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our back yard. Pilot’s name is Wild Bill.”

“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon asked, amused.

“Yeah, flew to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me.”

“Flying with presents,” Alex spoke up. “like Santa Claus.”

That was perhaps the first time you smiled out of geniuses that day.

“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”

Jason whistled, and Teddy immediately dashed ahead of him and caught the ball once Jason threw it. The two drifted off playing catch, leaving you and Angus with the freshmen. Alex spoke just as whimsically as he did about Santa.

“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar.”

Ye-Joon smiled. “That sounds really nice.”

You nodded. “During finals week, I helped Mary and the other cooks bake cookies for you guys. I still think that’s one of my favorite smells of all time.”

“You helped out with that?” Angus asked.

Dropping your smile, you said. “Yeah, and if I knew which one you’d have taken I would’ve spat in it.”

Before he could even come up with a response, Teddy ran up to Alex and yanked the glove off his right hand. “Hey!”

“That’s what you get for ratting me out, you little Mormon!” He laughed before throwing it into the river.

You marched up to him immediately. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Like, what the actual fuck?”

Teddy only stuck his tongue out like a child before running back to catch up with Jason. A part of you (somehow) foolishly believed he would’ve berated Teddy for the obviously asshole act; but he didn’t.

Rolling your eyes, you went down to the river with Alex, hopefully trying to find the glove and be able to fish it out. Though, to no avail, you couldn’t find it.

“It’s gone!” He yelled back up to Angus and Ye-Joon. “My glove’s gone!”

“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose!” Angus responded. “Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more.”

Alex looked down at his hands before tugging off the other glove and throwing it into the river as well. You glared at Teddy as he had a fun time, still laughing and throwing the ball with Jason. Sighing, you looked back down at Alex and pulled off your mittens, handing them to him.

“Here.”

He glanced up at you before staring back out at the water, rubbing his nose. “I don’t need them.”

“Your fingers are frailer than mine.” You continued even when he gave you a look. “That’s not an insult, that’s a fact. It’s alright, I have pockets.”

Alex, after a moment of debating, took them from you and slipped them on, smiling. “Thanks.”

The six of you were on your way back to school when you felt someone slip their hand into your coat pocket.

“Now what do we have here?”

You turned on your heel, seeing Teddy’s face light up as he waved the letter in his hand. Your face dropped, along with your voice.

“No!”

Immediately, you began to chase him around the small, snowy clearing as if you were a dog and he was a car.

“Theodore fucking Kountze, give that back!” You commanded.

He ripped open the envelope. “Or what, Hunham? You’re gonna tell your dad on me?”

“Just give her the letter, idiot.” Angus rolled his eyes.

Of course, Kountze ignored him, taking the letter out, and money falling from the paper. That’s when he stopped in his tracks and so did you. For the first time since…a while, you were frozen, and you had no idea why.

The rest of the boys caught up to you two, and Teddy picked up the money that fell from the letter; a twenty, a ten, and a five-dollar bill. After the initial shock wore off, he read the letter aloud to everyone.

“‘My dearest girl, how are you? It’s been a while, and I just want to know what you’ve been up to. Merry Christmas, here’s my gift to you. From, Daniel. P.S. Please send another picture of you if you could.’”

Shame crept in like a shaking animal from the cold, and you couldn’t even look at any of them. Still, that didn’t stop Teddy from taunting you; hell, it probably spurred him on.

“The hell kind of business are you running if you got a someone paying you thirty-five bucks?” He laughed, looking back at the guys. “You think she’s in a skin mag or something?”

“Hey, man, shut up.” Jason rebuked.

“No, I’m serious. They take pictures without showing the face sometimes.” He looked at you now. “Which one is it? Penthouse? Modern Man?”

“Leave it, Kountze.” You hissed, not looking at him.

Teddy laughed. “Don’t tell me it’s Playboy; you?”

“Are you fucking deaf?” Angus asked. “She told you to cut it out.”

“Piss off Tully, you probably saw her tits this morning in study hall.”

You whipped your head around and couldn’t control the face you made; to this day, you still have no idea if it was pure rage, a form of betrayal, or both at once. Still, you watched as how Angus avoided your gaze like he’d done something wrong; he did, but still. Teddy opened his disgusting mouth to speak again.

“Shit, if I were to line up every girl in Barton, you would’ve been the very last one I-.”

“-I’ll let you take the picture.”

All eyes were back on you, and you looked right at Teddy’s; once confident and sly, now widened with surprise. Who knew it would take just six words for him to shut up?

“What?” Was all he responded.

You swallowed thickly, clutching your hands into fists to keep yourself calm (and to not cry). “I’ll let you take the picture of me, but we have to be alone, and you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone else; especially my father.”

This was not what you had envisioned or wanted to happen on your first outing with them away from the adults in your life. You prayed to whatever god above, Christian, Roman, Greek, Buddhist, it didn’t matter, you prayed that Teddy would grow a brain and take the deal.

“Alright.” Was all he said, shrugging with an excited smile on his face that made your skin crawl.

You nodded. “I’ll take my letter and money now.”

He tilted his head, walking closer to you. “Please.”

Taking a deep breath, you said. “Please.”

Teddy’s grin only deepened, then handed you your things. “You know, Hunham, maybe you’re not a total prude after-.”

Your fist met his eye, and the both of you stumbled backwards; him clutching his face, you your hand. Needless to say, you were both cursing. Still, you managed to gather your bearings and push him over.

“Fucking bastard.” You spat before trying to make a run for it.

Teddy grabbed your left foot, causing you to fall into the snow, your teeth sinking into your lip once you hit your chin on impact of the ground. You struggled, then managed to quickly wiggle out of your boot before getting back up and running like a girl (anyone would run like a girl if they were being chased by a man like Teddy Kountze).

You honestly have no idea how he didn’t catch up to you at the time, but you were on the steps of the main building when you turned back. There they were, just five, not-so-little specks that stood out across the valley of pure white snow. It was only when you slowed down did you notice how cold your left foot was. Your sock was dripping wet from the snow, and you then pulled off your other boot, leaving it on the stairs before entering the school.

Taking a deep breath once you closed the door, you wiped your mouth; specks of blood colored your hand, but thankfully, not that much. Sighing, you walked through the halls of the school, trying to make your way back to the infirmary and hoping that your father wasn’t there.

You ran into Mary instead (a fate worse than death).

“Where are your shoes?” Was the first thing she asked once she saw you in the main hall (you got lost; hey, you’d only been there a few times in the past, don’t be too hard on yourself).

You shrugged, smiling. “We were playing a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek tag.” you leaned against the wall, hands in your coat pockets. “First one to get to the school wins, I hid my shoes under a bush, so they thought I was there, and I made a run for it.”

“You take a fall then? Your mouth’s bleeding.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never slipped on ice?” You managed to joke.

She arched her brow, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you know how long I’ve known you?”

It actually took you a few moments to think back on it; it felt like you’ve known her longer, but no. “Since I was nine?”

“And do you think, in the last eight years, I haven’t been able to tell if you’re a bad liar or not?”

“…Well, am I?”

“Did one of those boys put their hands on you?” She asked the question you both knew was coming. “Was it that shitass Kountze?”

Even with it being a serious question, you laughed (both from surprise and discomfort). “Well like, you should see the hands I put on him. Mary, we were just playing, it’s fine.”

The main door opened before she could say anything else, and you saw the same five boys walk in; Ye-Joon holding your boots. You smiled, approaching them as if nothing was wrong, and you took your shoes. “Thank you.”

He nodded, quickly looking away.

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves.” Mary spoke up behind you, and your heart dropped for a moment as well as all of their faces. “I get that you were playing a game, but you don’t need to be so competitive.”

They turned to one another, obviously confused about the whole thing (you were as well). Still, she continued. “Yeah, little miss Hunahm told me everything. Hide and seek, tag, I don’t care what it was, you all need to be just careful with each other. Poor girl over here took a fall, and I see you did too, mister Kountze.”

At his name, Teddy turned away. Angus spoke up. “We’ll be careful next time, miss Lamb.”

“Please, we’re on vacation; just Mary.” She looked at you. “You’re gonna help me with dinner later, right?”

“I will.”

“Good, stay out of trouble.”

“No promises.”

With that, Mary left through one of the doors leading to the teacher’s lounge. The moment she did, Teddy hissed at you.

“What the hell was that?!”

Rolling your eyes you said. “Didn’t you hear? We were playing a stupid game.”

“You mean you punched me in the face.”

“You blackmailed me into doing something I wouldn’t have wanted to do; we can keep going.”

“It’s not my fault you’re a-.”

“-A what?”

He stopped to your surprise, then changed his tone. “I just don’t think your father would be proud of the choices you’ve made.”

On one hand, damn, those words cut deep enough to almost make you bleed; but on the other hand…

“Are you gonna tell him?” You asked, trying not to sound like you gave a shit.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “I mean, unless you’re gonna say sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You laughed. “Beating the shit out of you? You started it. Besides, who’s he going to believe?”

Silence was what you were met with. Even at the sight of his face, you only continued to grin. “Teddy, come on, you start ‘not fights’, we all know. It’s not a hard question, I thought you were smarter than this?”

He sighed. “You.”

“Exactly; you’re my bitch, Kountze.” You walked backwards, a little skip in your step. “Don’t you forget that.”

Turning away, you retreated to the infirmary, grabbing your books and escaping to the library in hopes of not having to see any of them for the rest of the day.

Men…so exhausting.

You managed to disappear into the world of The Yellow Wallpaper (not necessarily lighthearted reading, but it was still interesting) and a chapter of The Two Towers before Mary called you down to help with dinner.

After another strange but not so subtle comment from her (“You know you can be honest with me, right? I am with you.”), it was quiet between the both of you. That’s what you always loved with cooking and baking; the quietness, even if you were with one other person. You both just worked in tandem and it was almost frightening how you would both know to move out of the way of each other without saying a word.

Dinner was uneventful; somehow, your father hadn’t noticed the slight bruising on your lip, or Teddy’s eye (the color would probably start to show as days went on, but that was a future problem for you). Not one of the boys your age talked to you; even then, the freshmen kept to themselves a lot too.

So, it was quite a surprise to you, as there was “supervised leisure time” in the library, when Jason Smith sat across from you at the table.

“Hey.” He said softly.

You looked up from Jane Eyre. “Hello.”

“So…” He almost looked nervous (initially about what, you will never know). “you really gave Teddy shit today.”

Tilting your head to the side, you went. “Yeah? Well…he kind of threatened me.”

“No of course. Just…wow.” He chuckled. “You really held him off.”

Nodding, you honestly had no idea what to think. Was he complementing you? In shock? All you were doing was staying silent at this awkward exchange when he asked. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“Just that, I can’t really read you right now. Did I say something weird?”

“No.” You shook your head, then said. “Well, yes. Sorry, I just…” You tried again. “Thank you, I think? But um…do you want me to be honest?”

“Sure.”

“I’m kind of…no, I am mad none of you stepped in. Maybe not mad but…I don’t know.”

“Well,” he began. “we told him to stop.”

“So did I, but he didn’t.” You wanted to say, but you only knew saying something true would make it worse (this is why you couldn’t be outnumbered by men; it’d make you scared). Instead, you settled on.

“I know, and thanks, but it still would’ve been nice for some help.”

He shrugged. “You seemed to have it handled.”

Six words you thought (and prayed) you’d never hear again; and he said them with a nonchalant shrug. As if, by now, he was already bored and annoyed with a conversation he had started. Perhaps you were reading too much into that last part, perhaps he didn’t mean to come off as callous; but he was still oblivious at the end of the day.

“Look,” he interrupted your overflowing mind when he saw how much it was affecting you. “if it helps, he tried to run after you when you punched him, but Tully and I held him back.”

You took a deep breath as his words sunk in. Then, you chuckled bitterly. “How nice of you to not let him beat me to a pulp.”

He shook his head. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Angry? Pissed off?”

“Irritational.”

Your jaw actually dropped. “What?”

He said your name, shaking his head and lowering his voice as if you both hadn’t been quiet already. “Look, Kountze is a dick, we know that. But come on, he said some horrible stuff, and you punched him. That doesn’t really add up.”

“…He threatened me.”

“You basically invited him to take a picture of you alone. I mean, yeah it was to bate him, but still.”

No further questions, you picked up your book and your jacket. Without another word and ignoring how he tried to call you back with a soft tone of voice as he said your name, you walked out of the library without another thought.

Your father asked you about it of course, but all you said was that Jason spoiled a book you were looking forward to reading. He believed you and wished you goodnight, leaving you to lie in your bed and be stuck in your thoughts until snoring reached your ears.

You waited a few more minutes before you stood up, gathering your blanket to wrap around you. As you walked down the hall, the nagging thought of ‘Do I even feel safe in there?’ invaded your mind when you only realized that you were going to be in a room with both Jason and Teddy. You were outside of the hall for longer than you would imagine, when you heard quiet voices on the other side of the wall.

“…I had an accident.”

“Yeah, you did. Shh, stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”

You had to cover your mouth from the unexpected line. How…strange it was to hear Angus Tully be this comforting. You heard the smaller voice again and heard that it was Ye-Joon.

“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends.” His voice broke at the end, and so did a piece of your heart.

Then, Angus with his words of wisdom, said. “Yeah, well, friends are overrated. I’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right? In the meantime, find a dry spot, and try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you.”

You gave it a few moments, still reeling over the gentleness of it all, before entering into the light of the infirmary room. You knocked lightly on the door frame not to frighten anyone.

Angus turned over his shoulder, and somehow didn’t jump when he saw you.

“Hi.” You greeted.

“Hey.” He responded, trying to act like his common, moody self.

You wanted to acknowledge what you heard; tease him (but not in an unkind way) about him being nice, ask him why, in the dead of night, was he like this and not in the daytime? Still, all you could manage was the basic.

“Is everything alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah, just nightmares, you know.”

“No,” you shook your head, deciding to lighten and grace the room with your sarcasm. “I’ve never had one in my life.”

Angus seemed to catch on, and it surprised you greatly to see him actually smile. “Nobody likes a bragger.”

“So that’s why you don’t have any friends.”

…Too much; too much sarcasm.

Both of your smiles fell, and you wanted nothing more than to shrivel up like a leaf and die in front of him, then have someone sweep out the crumbs of your body and then them on fire in the snow before burying the ashes.

You still can’t believe you came up with that metaphor quicker before you could say. “I’m just gonna…”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

You scurried into the other room and under the covers of the bed. The fear of Teddy and Jason no longer was the thing keeping you up at night in that room; it was the worst possible thing you could’ve said to Angus Tully of all people.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

#angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers #mary lamb #teddy kountze #paul hunham #Youtube

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mania-sama · 16 days ago

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Mondstadt and Its Religious Implications

One thing that I will NEVER get over about Genshin Impact is the iconography used in the designs for Mondstadt and the implications it has. Now, don't get me wrong, as a rule of thumb, Hoyoverse has done a really good job in creating unique environments for Genshin's nations that more or less accurately portray a real-life cultural region. Liyue is based on China, Inazuma on Japan, Sumeru on India and Egypt, Fontaine on France (and Australia, if you squint), and Natlan on African and Native American tribes.

Mondstadt is based on Germany. More specifically, many of the designs and icons seem to resemble the Holy Roman Empire. Now, an important thing to note is that most of Western and Southern Europe was some denomination of Christianity at this time, with some exceptions due to various holy wars that occurred kind of all of the time. Anyway, the point is that the Holy Roman Empire was an established Catholic nation (and Germany still is predominantly Christian in modern-day). One thing about the Catholic denomination is that they proudly display religious symbols anywhere they can or in ways that they can carry with them, usually coming in the form of a rosary or a cross. When it came to specific places of holy worship, they would obviously spend no small amount of effort to completely embellish the place with gold, art, and symbols. Catholic churches are known to be the most extravagant of the denominations for a reason.

When a design team looks at The Holy Roman Empire, they will see this religious imagery everywhere. Namely, they will see the cross, because that is kind of, you know, THE Christian symbol. So it makes complete sense for them to note that down and underline it in red; for a mostly-accurate portrayal of the region they are taking from, a church and crosses HAVE to be included.

Places of worship are obviously not unique to Christianity, nor is the "cross" as a religious symbol even born from Jesus Christ. There are a few cases from different regions in which crosses and cross-like images were used for their gods. HOWEVER, with the specific cross that Mondstadt displays, and with the fact that not only is it based on Germany/Holy Roman Empire but that it is the ONLY Genshin region to use the cross in its designs (along with the usage of distinctly Christian/Catholic roles like nuns)... it is safe to assume that this is representative of the Christian cross.

You can see the issue we are about to have.

The fact that Mondstadt displays crosses as a religious symbol in CHURCHES and on the KNIGHTS' ARMORY (because most knights were historically Christian), that characters like Barbara are seen wearing in their designs, implies two things:

Crucifixation is/was a method of cruel execution in Mondstadt's history.

SOMEBODY of high esteem and worship had to be crucified, and thusly held up as the ultimate symbol of religion...

For the first point, while it IS still crazy to think that Genshin would imply this, I can, indeed, believe it to be true to canon. Why? Well, Mondtadt's history is already rife with the same abuses as Europe's actual history. From slaves to gladiator fights to rebellion to cruel monarchs, Mondstadt has not had a pretty life. Crucifixion honestly fits right in. I can imagine, in failed revolts against the aristocracy, those rebels who survived were later crucified. Other victims may be those who try to falsify gods or improperly worship Barbatos in a manner that the ruler doesn't agree with, those who commit treason, etc. etc..

Is it insane? Perhaps a little. But if we really get into it, Hoyoverse has done some crazy things with their lore so it's not really out of place, no matter how cruel the actual punishment is.

The second point is a little more complicated. Let's first rule off Christianity being a thing in Genshin - while you could consider the most of the nations to be monotheistic because they technically worship one god, the respective one of their nation, they most certainly do not obey/follow one god holistically, nor is there one mortal representative that god, nor is there a specific spirit that lives on in every believer who follows that god. So, there is no Holy Trinity; no Jesus Christ, no Holy Spirit, and there is no God, so to speak. No Christianity.

However.

One thing about Genshin Impact is that it takes from biblical mythology heavily, for some reason (and I say mythology because modern denominations don't consider the demonology stuff canon). For example, Paimon is the name of a demon who was more or less a servant of Lucifer (interpretations may vary). It is well known that the Archons are based on demons from biblical demon mythology. Even in the latest Natlan Archon Quest, Ronova, the Ruler of Death, looks unnervingly like Ophanim, the one everyone draws when they make "biblically accurate angels" or whatever.

Mondstadt accomplishes biblical references in two ways: one, that Barbatos, the demon, had four main kings/knights that rode with him. This can be seen represented in the Four Winds. Two, that these Four Winds can be viewed like how the Catholics would view a saint. Saints were, in simplistic terms, mortals who achieved great things and helped many people, and were then canonized after the death (usually). The church essentially declares them a Saint and worthy of worship. Idols and imagery are produced of these saints and hung like one would a cross or other images of Jesus Christ.

The most clear representation of that in Genshin would be in Venessa, who is a mortal who dies and then ascends to Celestia. She then becomes the Falcon of the West, one of the Four Winds of Mondstadt. So, a saint, essentially. Even though Mondstadt isn’t Christian, it certainly is Catholic.

The reason why I am going over all of this is to say that, well, it may not be necessarily implying that Venti was the one who was crucified. That is the popular opinion when discussing the crosses - that somewhere along the way, Venti was crucified. I am here to say that that really might not be the case. While the Holy Trinity is interpreted by many denominations to all be one and the same as each other, it is still a fact that it was Jesus Christ who was crucified, not God Himself. Jesus is the son, not the God.

Which is to say that it could be anyone, really. The most clear "child" of Barbatos that comes to mind is Venessa, who we could interpret as someone who could have been, at one point, crucified (though she was not). Rulers and people of high esteem also claim her titles and name like monarchs would claim holiness and divine right in Europe. Again, the problem with this is that she was not crucified and lived a very successful life post-rebellion.

The other option that comes to mind is the Unnamed Bard. He also could have been crucified. Even though we know he died in battle, it is not unreasonable that his corpse would have been strung up by pissed-off nobles upon the defeat of Decarabian. But, again, the problem being is that a. the timelines don't match up (Barbatos was not yet the Anemo Archon), and b. they won the rebellion so he still probably wasn't crucified.

So, it could be someone we haven't heard of, or someone deep in Genshin lore that I don't know about. Or, you know, perhaps Venti really was crucified. I don't know.

THIS is what Hoyoverse is implying. AND I DON'T LIKE IT (it's fucking hilarious).

#source: i attended church a few times when i was like 7 #no it was not a catholic church #source: trust me bro #anyway just thought i'd add my two cents #i know people already know and that this game has been out for four years so obviously people have already talked about it at length #but this is just what i think #and i think that it is HILARIOUS #the effort is there from hoyo and i appreciate that #but since i happen to like history and know more about christian historical lore than i do for other religions and cultures #i notice the uh blaring issue with mondstadt's design #genshin impact #genshin impact analysis #barbatos #genshin barbatos #venti #genshin venti

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queer-ragnelle · 2 months ago

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Understand is is a very weird question to get out the blue so no offence taken if this gets left in the inbox, but I was wondering how (if at all) to integrate transgender knights into arthurian retellings/adaptations ect while trying to keep it vaguely true to the medievalisms of the whole thing? I know its easy and liberating to just go 'fuck it everything queer' and its a totally valid way to go about it, but (as a trans person) I like having a narrative examine queerphobia and other structual issues with the setting - gives the whole thing a bit of meat (in my personal tastes). That being said, it feels like its a nightmare to try and have a transmasc knight stay stealth in this place! Everyone feels like theyre getting stipped and tended to after breaking a rib in a joust or merlin shows up and is a dick about pronouns and outs you to get you married to a Roman king. Stuff like that - things that feel a little easier to dodge when its a civillian character, not an ruling class.

Is this a 'kill the cop in your brain' kinda deal? As a queer storyteller yourself do you have any tips or strategies or tools you use to crowbar this kinda stuff a little easier together? Or do you know any stories/retellings/academic texts ect that cover these kinda things (even if its in a 'for the love of god, don't do that' way). Love the work you do for this fandom a lot, regardless of your answer! Hope you have a good day.

Hello anon! This is a great question.

Now let me preface this by saying I’m not transgender and I’m not a medievalist. There are plenty of trans medievalists on tumblr, but I’m not one of ‘em. So my answer is coming from a queer but cis author and enthusiast perspective. I'm going to provide lots of links to read things as well so everyone can draw their own conclusions from the material.

I think a large part of this does come down to “kill the cop in your head.” But at the same time, I’ve been exactly where you are wondering, “How can I make this story feel authentic to its era without torturing the trans characters?” Because you’re right, there’s a lot of nudity and close proximity interaction between knights in the medieval stories and Merlin is totally the type to be a dick about pronouns. I've also searched and struggled to find a medieval-set story that manages to incorporate queerness in a period-appropriate way (so far as we can guess) while balancing the narrative as to not tip into something deeply unpleasant for the target audience to read. (See: the series by Lavinia Collins, which has great queer rep, yay! But tons of horrors previously unseen and still unnecessary, boo!) So where does that leave us?

Well first I’m going to give you an example of how not to handle transness in an Arthurian story....

The book Once & Future and its sequel Sword in the Stars by Amy Rose Capetta and Cory McCarthy went with the phenomenon you already described as, “fuck it, everything queer.” It doesn't take place in the past, but does use the medieval stories as more than reference, it's not as divergent as something like Port Eternity by C. J. Cherryh, the reincarnated characters do interact with the past directly at times, so I'm using it as an example.

Anyway most characters are either gay (umbrella term) or trans. Except the way trans characters are treated sucks majorly (in my opinion). I completely lost faith in book 1 after the introduction of Lamorak, a gender fluid knight who uses they/them pronouns. Merlin misgenders them and gets corrected by Kay, to which Merlin does this whole self flagellation routine about. Lamorak is also disabled, missing their left hand. (Why isn't it Bedwyr? Anyway not the point...) Lamorak gets no dialogue here whatsoever, all agency is completely stripped from them regarding their disability and their gender identity. Double whammy.

This is worsened when Percival gets introduced, as Merlin then makes a point of asking for pronoun clarification in the most obnoxious way possible. To which Percival takes no offense at the weird slight against his sibling and tells Merlin his pronouns.

But what about the sequel? Surely these two queer authors improved with time.....

Is this a joke? Is this the best way they could indicate the inclusive realm of Avalon? Why not just describe the women as they are, all shapes and sizes, and let the reader figure it out? The authorial intent would be so obvious by this point. Instead they say it… like that. Gag.

It only gets worse when Mordred is born. Then they're weird about a literal infant.

What in the bio essentialism? If the characters have been living in a future that’s broken out of the gender binary, the baby’s genitals should be irrelevant. Gwen’s literally saying Mordred is going to fulfill the evil prophecy because he was born with a penis. Even if this is intended to be a teaching moment, I hate how it’s handled. These quotes are in order of appearance in the books, so after the subtextual implications of all that came before, this last part really doesn’t sit right with me. Sorry I find these books completely abhorrent. They've won awards, they’re beloved by many. Maybe it's me. But no thanks.

Honestly, so long as you're not blatantly offensive with your handling of such things, I think you'll be fine. It's important to remember that even if one is part of a demographic they're depicting, it's always a good idea to hire sensitivity readers and take that feedback seriously. Not everyone will love your work, there will be advice you don't utilize, with time you'll be able to weed out the bad faith feedback, (the "all depiction is glorification" crowd) and ignore it. But it's so important to open oneself up to constructive criticism so you can learn and your work can develop into the best possible version of itself.

Now let's get to some ways you can go about researching a way to do this that fits in your story. It’s important to remember that throughout human history, many people lived stealth their whole lives and we don’t know about them for that reason, not because no transgender folks ever lived authentically and happily in medieval times. So it’s never impossible to incorporate a trans character into a story who experiences no direct violence, even if the world they live in isn’t presented as a queer utopia. The other thing is that public opinion regarding queerness, cross dressing, etc have varied a lot over the centuries and were vastly different depending on location. Not every “woman” found in armor would have been treated as poorly as Joan of Arc. So there’s lots of wiggle room for interpretation when you go about writing these narratives. The majority of my examples deal with the ruling class so they address the concerns you mentioned with added scrutiny a noble would face if they were to experiment with gender presentation compared to a commoner. I’ll be spoiling the plots of everything on the list to make clear why I’m suggesting them.

My initial advice would be to read medieval literature with queer themes followed by essays on the subject. The best examples I know of are:

Yde et Olive

Transmasc knight (good ending). 12th century French romance. Yde’s mother Clarisse died giving birth to her & later when Yde reaches maturity, her father makes advances, so she disguises herself as a man & flees. Yde becomes a successful knight & is married to the king’s only daughter, Olive. When it comes time to consummate the marriage, Yde must confess the truth of his identity to Olive, who vows to keep it secret. This is overheard by the king who then attempts to uncover Yde’s identity but is stopped by an angel who chastises the king for harassing such a good vassal. Then Yde is transformed into a man, the king dies, & Yde is able to have a child with Olive. They name him Croissant as if it couldn’t get any more French than it already was. Anyway the story alternates pronouns for Yde given the situation which is pretty neat & in the end he gets to live his best life! Yay!

Le Roman de Silence

Transmasc knight (bad ending). A 13th century French romance about a baby girl named Silence. Silence is raised as a boy because King Eban won’t allow women to inherit property. Like many medieval romances, the hero's adventure is often punctuated with personified emotions (Dame Fortune, Lady Love, etc) but Silence is tormented by Nature & Nurture as he comes into adulthood. He becomes a knight & eventually takes on an "impossible" quest, to capture Merlin, which supposedly can only be done by a woman. Content warning for the ending, it does not go well for Silence. Merlin reveals his backstory, & he’s forced to take a feminized version of his name, live as a woman, & marry the king to keep his lands.

Wigalois by Wirnt von Grafenberg

A 13th century German romance that follows Gawain’s son, Wigalois [Gingalain], but this ain’t about him. There’s a character Marine who fights as a knight. She’s consistently referred to with she/her pronouns, but she’s renowned for her knightly virtues & fights alongside the men in the war. She’s treated very well narratively & dies in battle after apprehending a high-value hostage. Everyone mourns her & there’s a big funeral held in her honor. So even if Marine never presented herself as a man the way Yde or Silence do, she provides an example of a female thriving in a male role. Food for thought.

Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach

Another German banger from the 13th century. This one’s about a cis male knight but Parzival has transmasc vibes. Trust me. Here’s my favorite article about it called The Clothes Make The Man - Parzival Dressed & Undressed by Michael D. Amey that really illustrates what I mean.

After that, you can check out these retellings:

The Story of Silence by Alex Myers

I bought this but haven't read it yet. It’s a retelling about the aforementioned Le Roman de Silence. This book uses neutral they/them pronouns to refer to Silence, which I can say from experience sometimes causes confusion with readers, so it's good to study how this author did it & determine if that method feels right for you. (If you ever decide to do something like that with a character.)

Spear by Nicola Griffith + Spear's Author's Note

I enjoyed this one, beautiful prose. It didn’t feel like the most comprehensive Grail Quest retelling, but Peretur can be interpreted as a butch lesbian or transmasc, it’s ambiguous. She only uses masculine pronouns when stealth, otherwise using she/her, but it has a happy ending! It’s firmly set in the era & felt authentic on that front while letting the queer characters relax. Peretur isn’t alone. (A/G/L enjoyers keep winning + sapphic lady of the lake ftw + the other hotties Peretur pulled.) Definitely worth checking out.

The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman

This book just came out in 2024. Including it here is already a spoiler given the topic but I’m going to spoil fully from this point on so ignore this if that’s a problem. This is the best example I can give for your reading/writing tastes based on the ask; Dinadan is a trans man. His transness isn’t revealed in the main character Collum’s pov, but in Dinadan’s backstory pov, opening in his childhood. He & his twin brother were sent to different schools but young Dinadan would leave the girl’s school to practice knightly skills with the fay, which retroactively explains why he has a fairy sword that Collum was admiring. In exchange for this training, the fay ask that Dinadan slay Merlin. Which he agrees to while never believing he actually can, but the wrath of the fay in the afterlife is worth his ability to live as a knight. I love how it was all handled firstly because Dinadan has a fighting style that works for his smaller frame & because every knight has a different fighting style (Dagonet’s is “If it sucks hit da bricks.”) Dinadan doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb yet his physicality is accounted for. Secondly Dinadan explains the lengths he goes to in order to stay stealth from obvious ones like binding his breasts to pretending to shave his face every couple days & wearing a packer. Later on, Dinadan’s secrets are revealed when he goes swimming in the ocean with Palomides (who evidentially already knew) & Collum joins them. Collum had no idea, which I think brings up an interesting point about all of this which also reminds me of Gawain not recognizing that Beaumains was Gareth—the power of expectation. Just as Gawain expected to find a kitchen boy & would have no reason to assume his brother (who hit puberty since they last saw each other) would be stealth in the kitchens so therefore didn’t recognize him, Collum expects to find men as knights of the Round Table, so when Sir Dinadan is introduced, & Collum had heard of him before, Dinadan’s stature & high voice don’t register to Collum as anything but traits that this guy Dinadan happens to have. Learning Dinadan’s secret in the presence of another knight who already knows & is chill about it also encourages Collum to be accepting too. So giving Dinadan at least one ally in his corner throughout the story went a long way. In the end Merlin, who can only be killed by a man (which is why Nimue had to settle for sealing him away) is stabbed by Dinadan. So it’s like a reverse Silence/Éowyn situation that Dinadan’s gender is affirmed in his ability to kill Merlin. This book also includes the part from Le Morte d’Arthur where Dinadan’s forced to wear a dress, which in this context is very transphobic, but that’s the point. It’s made better when Dinadan gets to go insano style on Merlin so he gets payback. Just a heads up about that.

Some fantasy/scifi that’s not Arthurian but may help, as Arthuriana is largely fantasy to begin with, this may help you determine where on the spectrum your taste/writing falls regarding the bending of reality/history to fit your narrative.

Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf

1928 novel about a character named Orlando living during the reign of Elizabeth I. Orlando is born male, then at some point in his early adulthood, falls into a deep sleep from which he awakens the exact same person, now metamorphosed to be female. Orlando, for her part, adopts this new role immediately & keeps on moving. She lives for 300 years as such & has many adventures, including an instance where she then presents as a man to elude marriage. Transitioned so she could cross dress in the other direction. She would’ve done numbers on tumblr. Ultimately, Orlando does marry… a gnc sea captain! The success of their marriage is attributed to their similarities in gender non-conformity. Even though this book only remains in the late medieval era for the opening, I think it’s a poignant example of a transgender individual living their life in their time & still getting to enjoy themselves without excessive suffering that may provide lots of inspiration.

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin

1970 Hugo & Nebula award winning novel. A fascinating examination of gender from the point of view of a cis man named Genly Ai having to reconcile his interpretation of the gender binary when confronted with a society who operates outside that. His travels with ambisexual Estravan challenges what Ai understands about the universe. His ignorance forms the backbone of the narrative as he grows close to a person from this other society. Even if it’s not a medieval setting, it may help you develop a narrative voice regarding this subject you’re able to bring to your work. Also it’s just really good.

The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner

2007 Locus award winner, Nebula & Gaylactic Spectrum nominee. High fantasy medieval setting. Katherine is a country girl brought to the big city Riverside by her uncle the Duke where she’s offered the opportunity to train as swordsman (ie cross dress) instead of political marriage. She’s unsure of the reasoning behind her uncle’s motivations for doing this, but goes along with it & kicks ass. A preview is available on Google books (linked).

The Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb

This is my favorite series ever. It spans 16 books published between 1995-2017. The fandom on tumblr & ao3 is hugely active. (Avoid tags to dodge major spoilers or check it out for amazing art & many quotes!) The series has many gnc characters in a fantasy medieval setting. First & foremost, The Fool, who’s in all the books & whose gender ambiguity is mentioned book 1, to which he says, “None of your business.” The character ever. Without getting too specific, there are several trans characters including gender fluid characters who will alternate between masc/fem presentation & pronouns. This is my favorite example of gender fluid characters in any fantasy I’ve read, especially since there are several & each feels unique. In The Liveship Traders trilogy, Amber coaches another woman how to hide her period while pretending to be a ship’s boy by using a sock, so if anyone finds the blood on it, she can say she cut her foot. Little things like that really deepened the realism in an otherwise fantastical story for me, because addressing those details answers questions my overly analytical mind would ask & wonder about if unacknowledged.

Lastly I'd like to suggest the article Armour of an Alienating Identity by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. While it doesn't mention Parzival (the text), it does mention Perceval (the character), as well as Gareth Beaumains, Lancelot, Gawain, Yvain, and even Arthur himself. It goes on to reference endless examples to support its thesis including Greek heroes such as Achilles and Odysseus with references to many different medieval stories from Old English Beowulf to the Irish Ulster cycle to the works of Geoffrey Chaucer. Most (if not all) of the texts mentioned in this essay can be found on my blog for cross reference if you desire, although the article already contains many quotes.

Okay I think that’s all I got. I’ve given you a ton to think about and read. Ultimately I don’t think there’s a clean cut answer for this. Nuance, you know? Having hired an editor and many sensitivity readers myself, it really is just a professional a vibe check sometimes. You write what you want to the best of your ability, then other people weigh in, and you keep tweaking it until it’s as good as you can possibly make it. During development, and even in its final form, there will be people who don’t enjoy your story and that’s fine. It isn’t for everyone, it’s for you and your audience. No single experience in this life is the same so each fictional depiction emulating life will also be unique, there’s no “right” answer on how to write this or anything else, only the way you want to.

Hopefully now you have some tools to help you learn how best to express your vision. I know they gave me a lot of insight and ideas I lacked before when writing trans characters in my books. Thank you for trusting me with this question and good luck with your project! Take care! :^)

#arthuriana #arthurian legend #arthurian mythology #arthurian literature #queer #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #trans #transgender #transmasc #transfem #nonbinary #genderfluid #genderqueer #writing #ask #anonymous

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wolfy1298 · 2 years ago

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Don’t you ever wonder what kind of secrets and plot points Venti keeps hidden? He claims to be the weakest amongst the Seven-and that could be true given his whole 500 year slumber and poison and all- but he’s still a god. AND one of the original Seven. You gotta be good at SOMETHING to survive for this long…

He’s also the only archon so far that doesn’t have a second story quest so what is he hiding?! We have accounts of him literally shaping the land with ease from both the Golden Apple Archipelago events and his character stories. We know that he has close relationships with the Hexenzirkel and somehow managed to avoid conflict with them??? And there’s also the fact from the skyward sword series that he was originally a catalyst user before picking up the bow in honor of Amos. He’s pulling a Childe when it comes to weapons he currently uses and the ones he’s proficient in.

And don’t even get me started on his connection with Istharoth and Celestia! Mondstadt already has the Thousands Winds Temple AND the nameless island where both Venti and Istharoth were once worshipped. And from Before Sun and Moon, we know that the Thousand Winds (which Venti IS A PART OF) were once called the Thousand Winds of TIME, all of whom were created and controlled by Istharoth. AND THEN you have Venti suspiciously appearing in the right place at the right time again and again and again. He even self proclaimed knowing every song: past, present, and future. Hell he’s probably one of the only few beings in Teyvat who can naturally bypass Irminsul because of his songs: Nahida already shown it’s possible to save deleted info if rearranged into fiction so the same should work for songs and poetry. And there’s also what the hydro fungus in Nahida’s second story quest said about changing forms. That you need time for growth to occur. And Nahida - an ARCHON- had trouble maintaining her fungus form for even the short period of time. She was even told that to do so for longer, one would need to bypass time itself which is near impossible. AND YET VENTI CHANGED INTO THE FORM OF HIS FRIEND IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING HIS GNOSIS AND HAS YET TO CHANGE BACK OR TIRE FROM FATIGUE (as we know it). HOW STRONG IS HE. Sure, the yokai in Inazuma and Adepti in Liyue can all change into a human form, but we know in game that it takes a long time and steady energy to take on a human shape, and the Adepti all seem to have that ability naturally: there’s no bending the laws of nature if it’s already natural to them. So what’s Venti’s excuse?!

As for Celestia: there’s already written in the statue of Barbatos “the gateway to Celestia” and what not. And Khanreia! In the chasm AND in the Caribert quest, Barbatos and Mondstadt keep getting named dropped. According to Dainself, the city in the chasm is supposedly OLDER than Khanreia and possibly the Seven, yet BARBATOS of all beings is mentioned in the records you find??? And in Caribert, it’s a Mondstadtian woman who that one bloke had a child with. Never mind that Mondstadt is where Kaeya and Albedo - the two characters with confirmed Khanreian origins- end up! There’s also the fact that Khanreia seems to base its gods and names and whatever around Norse mythology….which has strong ties to GERMANIC HISTORY. WHICH MONDSTADT IS BASED OFF OF. And Enkanomiya, which was once ruled by Istaroth, is Greek origin. Suspicious considering all the connections to HERMES Venti keeps portraying. (And then there’s also a connection to all three places with the hexenzerkel with their Chinese names? Like I think I read somewhere that Alice is Aries(?)/Eris(?) and Nicole is actually Nike in the Chinese version? Which are very much based in Roman/Greek origins)

Oh and something I forgot to mention earlier with the whole Istharoth connection. Mondstadt’s saying “seeds of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated through time”. SUSPICIOUS

Anyways, this has been my nonsensical Venti theory rant

And you’re stuck with me @worldsokayestmagicalgirl

#theory rant #seriously this is me typing whatever comes to mind #I have questions and Mihoyo needs to give me answers #this isn’t even everything #mutual lore rant kidnapping #Alyssa and I take turns with the conspiracy boards #genshin impact

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mqrrstarr · 1 month ago

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PART TWO OF THIS REQUEST!!

Christmas with the Emperor (2/2)

Emperor Geta x GN! Reader

how Geta would celebrate the holidays (Saturnalia / Christmas) with you!

go read the caracalla one

Warnings: edited lightly, Saturnalia then Christmas mentioned, half story half headcanons

A/N: @babey-fruit-bat here’s part two for Geta!!

Summary: how Geta spends Saturnalia and Christmas with his SO!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Geta worked almost all the time. His stressed rarely reduced, unless healed by a night with you. Yet when the month of December came around, he was eager to celebrate the good god Saturn. He saw this as a time to celebrate, and to ease off the Senate’s heavy workload he was given.

“Sweetheart, are you ready to leave? I have to recite my speech to the people. I’m a tad bit nervous, but it is my duty.”

He looked a bit sad, but it was true. Unlike Caracalla, Geta had to be the one to present a speech to the Roman citizens. Saturnalia presented an opportunity for people to go around and get goodies and jewels from merchants. The annual ceremony was always lead by an Emperor though.

Caracalla had gone to the sacrificing ceremony, so Geta recited his speech. With your support, all had gone well and you were able to stroll in the markets after. You noticed a specific necklace you liked, and Geta noticed.

“You like that necklace? It’ll suit your neck well. Not as good as my hands of course, but it’ll do.”

He bought the necklace and placed it around you.

“Jewelry fit for a true ruler of Rome.”

He kissed your cheek and you were able to stay late and watch the moon rise above your heads.

“The moon cannot compare to your face, and it lights up your soul. I hope to end my life next to you, and cannot await to be with you forever.”

He said this as you were walking back to the palace, and the both of you fell asleep next to the fireplace in his room.

When it came to Christmas, Geta never really knew what you wanted. Caracalla was already nagging him with the things he got for his S/O, and he was left without ideas. Geta didn’t want to copy Caracalla, so he didn’t really know what to give you.

He decided to ask the Gods for inspiration, and it led to an extremely lavish gift. Something big, like a statue of the both of you, or just one of yourself, a library, an estate. Something big like that’s unexpected.

On Christmas Day, you’d wake up to Geta sitting at a table newly placed in his room, filled with food and your favorite treats. You’d eat, and he’d take you to whatever gift.

(For the sake of writing, I’ll say it’s a new vacation estate.)

“Sweetheart, I would never capture your worth in clothes or luxury. Instead, I see yourself in us. Our life. As the rulers of a grand empire, and hopefully, we can create an heir. Our legacy shall live on, and I cannot wait to grow old as a pair. I love you.”

9 months later, you had an heir and yet another vacation house with a statue of your newly made family.

the end. yippie!!

#gladiator two #gladiator x reader #emperor geta #Geta #joseph quinn #Geta x reader #emperor geta x reader

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pumpkinbxtch · 10 months ago

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a request please, jaosn x reader, how do percy, poseidon, hera and tyson react if jason apologizes to them because the adorable blonde superman dreamed that he kissed the reader without permission (he hasn't confessed yet) and thinks he's a pervert :D

I dreamed about that today, my younger sister was scared because apparently I laughed very hard in my dreams at dawn.

guilty ๑⁠´ blurb

— jason grace x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: practically what is above. Jason being a silly in love

warnings: none, maybe swearing.

a/n: heyy. dessert is served. hope you like it. Jason asking for forgiveness and taking responsibility for everything is the most roman thing. so sweet too. i love him. 😭

—I made a big mistake.

Everyone's expressions changed completely. Coming from Jason, a confession like that couldn't be taken lightly.

“What would he have done to bring two gods?” Percy wondered as he looked at Tyson. And why did he want them to be there too?

Hera cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

—Jason... what are you talking about?

— was not my intention.

His voice sounded shaky and his cheeks struggled not to turn red.

— what wasn't your intention, boy? Should we call my brother? — Poseidon stabbed his trident into the grass and looked askance at Percy for an explanation, but he was just as confused.

Jason's skin crawled and he shook his head.

— I don't want to put my father in disgrace.

Hera touched her chest and encouraged Jason to continue as he took a seat at one of those dining tables at Camp Half-Blood. What would her champion have done so wrong that he sought refuge in her first rather than her father?

— Nept... Poseidon.— Jason bowed before him. Then he bowed to Tyson and Percy too. The brothers saw each other out of the corner of their eyes. Totally confused.—I dreamed of her daughter, desecrating her lips with a kiss.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds, those sounds of nature became more intense in the dining room, but the air was filled with disbelief.

The tension disappeared from the god's shoulders and he looked at Hera confused. She let out a whimper and rested his forehead on the palm of her hand as she shook her head. If he was right in his suspicions, that action indicated an "Oh, not again."

Jason deepened his reverence before the god.

— I beg your forgiveness. Although I know I don't deserve any after committing such an atrocity.

Gods, what?

Poseidon held back the urge to laugh but Percy, his son, didn't help him when he burst into laughter. Tyson imitated his brother without knowing why he did it, but he seemed funny. That's when the sea god let out a laugh, still very polite.

Hera scowled at him but she couldn't deny it, it was a complete joke.

Jason looked at them with his eyebrow slightly raised as the three of them laughed and Hera sagged in embarrassment.

What had he done wrong?

—boy, have you already told my daughter that you like her?

Jason's cheeks flushed, his pale skin not helping him hide it at all.

—No sir. That is why-

— Do it. Stop the nonsense. — He pointed the trident at him and Percy looked cautiously at his father, taking care that he didn't overdo it with his friend — And if you do anything to my baby... you'll die.

—Poseidon! — Hera screeched.

He laughed — No, it's not true. But be careful boy. You almost gave us a... again, what's that phrase?

— A heart attack— Percy said, rolling his eyes.

— Heart attacks are not fun — Tyson muttered and Poseidon agreed.

—They're not fun — he repeated and gave Hera a look. —Your boy has a very tough sense of responsibility.

— He is Roman, Poseidon — Hera said, moving her hands with disdain and giving Jason a longing look. — My champion is in love.

His expression immediately changed to a serious one.

—Jason, I already told you that you don't have to apologize for everything.

—But it's the rig-

— The right thing, yes. But this time it was a dream about kissing Poseidon's daughter. We don't care, even less if you can have other types of dreams... — she raised her eyebrow and Jason felt like he was going to explode at that moment. Even some hairs rose with electricity.

Hera waving her hands to calm him down.

— Ew! She is my sister! — Percy screeched with a disgusted face. Jason smiled.

—Jason is in love with our little sister—Tyson said between giggles.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#jason grace #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #pjo

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tightjeansjavi · 3 months ago

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Et Auream - The Prologue

“The Boy”

A/N: well…🤭 it’s here! I decided to bite the bullet and post the prologue sooner because I am an impulsive Aries after all! This story has taken over my mind body and soul 🫠 just ask @sinsofsummers @penvisions @beardedjoel @corazondebeskar @punkshort & @kenobiwanx (just to name a few moots who have listened to me yap and yap and yap 🥹) it’s an understatement when I say just how I excited I am for this story. I currently have 17 chapters written, and we are only at the halfway point! There is so much more to come 😉

Summary: Marcus Acacius, from a young age was taught to be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate. His mother, Lucia, has kept her son’s true identity hidden from his callous father, Varus. On the eve of Marcus’s 10th birthday, an accident occurs, and when the truth is revealed, Marcus learns firsthand just how cruel the world he was born into could truly be.

word count : 1.6k

Warnings: enslavement, child enslavement, child abuse, domestic abuse, canon typical violence, death of a minor character, language, minors dni! +18

Timeline : Emperor Lucius Septimius Severus - ruled from April 13th 193AD - February 4th 211AD (historical) Succeeded by: Publius Septimius (Geta) born 191AD (birthdate is fictional) & Marcus Aurelius Antonius (Caracalla) born 193AD (birthdate is fictional)

Marcus was born May 17th 193AD (Taurus) 203AD - Marcus is 10 206AD - Marcus is 13 211AD - Marcus is 18 when he meets Geta 216AD - Marcus is 23

Geta was born June 9th 191AD (fictional birthdate, not historical) (Gemini) 203AD - Geta is 12 206AD - Geta is 15 211AD - Geta is 20 when he meets Marcus 216AD - Geta is 25

Caracalla was born October 27th 193AD (fictional birthdate, not historical) (Scorpio) 203AD - Caracalla is 10 206AD - Caracalla is 13 211AD - Caracalla is 18 when he meets Marcus 216AD - Caracalla is 23

Translations : Acacius (Roman, male) - one who is free from evil (innocence) also symbolizes strength, resilience & protection Varus (Roman, male) - bent, crooked Lucia (Roman, female) - light Medicus - physician, doctor Dominus - master

Under the rule of Emperor Septimius Severus May 17th, 193 AD

When Marcus Acacius was born into the world, he did not scream like most babes did. He cooed and babbled, his long lashes opened and revealed the deepest brown eyes, rich in color like the soil that nurtures life. His mother wept as he clung to her breast. She did not shed tears of joy, but tears of sorrow and dread as she had prayed to the gods for a daughter. Not because she wouldn’t have been grateful for a son, but because his father; her Dominus, wanted a daughter, as he already possessed many sons.

She concealed him from the midwives who gave the new mother her much needed privacy after birth. It would only be a matter of time before their Dominus would return home from his travels.

“Marcus.” She whispered, lips gentle and motherly against his soft, fragile forehead. “Marcus Justus Acacius.” She sniffled. “Do you know what your name means, my son? It symbolizes innocence, strength, protection, and resilience. An honorable name for a special boy.” She cradled him close to her chest. “Your father will not love you the way that I will, but you mustn’t let it hurt you, Marcus. You must always be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate.”

Marcus’s true identity was carefully hidden beneath clothing designed for girls, and his hair grew long and lustrous. His mother, Lucia kept him close to her side as she tended to the gardens and helped prepare all the Dominus’s meals. Varus was neither kind nor cold, but he appeared to be pleased with Lucia blessing him with what he believed to be his first daughter. So much so, that he intended to marry her the following year—right before Marcus’s tenth birthday.

Tragedy struck days before the planned wedding date. On the eve of Marcus’s tenth birthday, he suffered an injury falling off of his horse, but that was not the worst of it. While the medicus was examining the injuries Marcus sustained, the truth was discovered that Varus’s daughter was in fact a boy.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Varus booming voice could be heard just outside the cracked doorway of Marcus’s bedroom.

“Sir, I understand that this news is upsetting and the most shocking, but it is true. Your daughter is a fraud, and is in fact a boy.”

“Mother.” Marcus croaked from where he laid with tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I swear, I was being careful! I lost my stirrup and—”

Lucia squeezed her son’s trembling hand firmly and reassuringly. She leaned over, brushing his temple with a soft kiss. “Shh, my son. You have done nothing wrong, Marcus. Accidents happen, and it was only a matter of time before Varus would discover the truth. I am the one who is sorry, my beautiful boy.”

“This is an outrage! My to-be wife has been lying to me all these years?! This is a disgrace, and I will seek to have her severely punished for her crimes of treachery against me!”

“No, mother! You have nothing to be sorry for! You have done everything to protect me, and I am forever grateful. You have taught me to be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate. Remember? It is my fault for being so careless.” He uttered in frustration.

“No, my son. You are but a child. The fault cannot fall on your shoulders. You must continue to be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate. No matter what life throws your way, promise me you will always remain true to your heart and the values I have instilled in you.” She cradled his cheek in her hand, brushing away stray tears and rested her forehead against his. “In this life and the next, you will always be my son.”

The door slammed open to reveal a seething Varus and Marcus never feared for his life more until the man who was half responsible for bringing him into this world looked at him as if he was nothing—not a person with feelings and emotions just like him. No, Varus looked upon his unwanted son as if he were the filth beneath his shoes and the very bane of his existence.

“Varus, please. Let me explain. I beg you to show our son mercy. He is just a boy! A bright, innocent, beautiful, kind boy!” Lucia exclaimed from his bedside, pleading for Varus to be merciful. She stood up quickly from the bedside to try and block Varus from reaching Marcus.

Varus stalked into the room, fury stricken in his irises, and when Lucia dared to place herself in his way, he struck her across the cheek hard enough that she fell against the wall, smacking her head against the stone, falling unconscious from the impact.

Marcus let out a terrified scream, his eyes wide with fear. He yelled his mothers name when Varus reached for the covers and yanked them back from his trembling body.

“She demands I show you mercy, boy.” He said between gritted teeth, malice dripping in his cold tone. He clasped his hand against Marcus’s wounded right shoulder, squeezing it tightly with no remorse.

Marcus let out a pained sound from the back of his throat, clawing desperately at his father’s hand to release him. “Father, please!” He cried, “you’re hurting me!”

“You are no son of mine.” Varus seethed and dragged the young boy from his bed and far away from where his mother laid. Marcus was never given the chance to tell her one last time just how much he loved her, or to say goodbye.

Marcus screamed for his mother till his throat was rubbed raw and he no longer had a voice. The pain in his shoulder weakened him to a state of unconsciousness, and when he woke, he found himself stuffed into an iron cage along the back of a horse-drawn carriage with ten other boys all around his age. His wrists and ankles were shackled in iron, and a collar around his neck signified his ownership to a new Dominus.

Varus had sold Marcus to a slave trader that was well known for training young boys and men to be gladiators for the barbaric games that took place in the Colosseum. Lucia would never see her son again or know of his fate.

To this day, Marcus favors his left side as the injury he sustained to his dominate shoulder never properly healed, and sometimes it still causes him pain, especially after a brutal fight.

Because he was not born with violence in his veins and rage in his heart, Marcus refused to fight even after his new Dominus would beat him, he would not grasp a sword in his palm. This made him an easy target for the other boys to take their rage and frustrations out on. Runt, they would call him. Jabbering at him like squawking crows. Coward. Pathetic. Their insults would ricochet off his body as if he was wearing invisible armor. He remained quiet and reserved till one night he had been pushed to his limits.

“Do you think you’re better than the rest of us, Acacius? Is that why you choose to not fight?” One of the boys questioned him around the dying fire.

“No. I don’t think myself to be better than anyone.” Marcus quietly said under his breath and moved to stand up from where he was sitting, but a hand on his bad shoulder forced him back down.

“Then why don’t you fight, hm? The runt won’t even defend himself!” The boy cackled and his friends joined in.

“Please stop.” Marcus said through gritted teeth.

“I bet your whore of a mother was ashamed that her son turned out to be such a coward! That’s why she sold you off, right? She couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes any longer!” He laughed. “And who could blame her?”

“Don’t you dare speak of my mother as if you knew her!” Marcus roughly brushed the hand from his shoulder and stood up in a fury.

“Your mother was a whore and I bet she died as one too!”

Marcus couldn’t remember the events that transpired moments later. All he could recall was the sound of steel being unsheathed, and seeing red behind his eyes. He was thirteen years of age when he killed for the first time. He plunged his sword so deeply into the boy's gut that it appeared through the other side, dripping in crimson.

Under the new rule of Emperor Publius Septimius (Geta) & Marcus Aurelius Antonius (Caracalla) April, 211 AD

After five years of extensive, unforgiving, and grueling training to become a gladiator, Marcus was taken before the two young emperors who had only just recently succeeded their late father, emperor Septimius Severus, to be observed in training before the next anticipated fight in the Colosseum.

“This one appears promising.” Emperor Geta, twenty years of age, sat alongside his younger brother, Caracalla in his golden throne. “I intend to meet him officially.”

“He is weak. Do you not see the way he favors one side to the other? He is unbalanced, and his opponents will pick their teeth with his bones.” Caracalla said with a jabbing snicker. “He surely won’t survive through a single fight.”

“We shall see.”

When he was approached by the emperors after the training session had wrapped up, Marcus quickly bowed in their regal, commanding presence. He brought his sword to rest against the breastplate of his armor out of respect.

“What do they call you, gladiator?” Geta inquired with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Acacius, sir.”

“And what do you desire most in this life, Acacius?”

Marcus lowered his sword, the edge of the blade dug into the coarse sand below. His emotionless gaze, directed at the eldest emperor, was contrasted by emotionally charged words of a man whose only desire in life was to be free.

“To be a free man.”

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chaotic-multi-fandom · 4 months ago

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WHERE DOES IT START? ARUN, AMADEO, ARMAND

- My personal reflections on Armand's names in Interview with the Vampire (show version)

“Who am I Louis?” Armand asks while staring at a painting of a boy that only he would ever be able to recognize as himself. He stares at what is supposed to be his essence captured forever on a canvas, and yet the kneeling boy is a stranger to him. When he asks Louis this, he is earnest. Armand does not know who he is, and this lack of identity crushes and torments him. Armand seems to constantly define himself by his attachment to other people or things, such as a “servant”, as “the job (he) did not want” or as someone’s “companion” because he has never known anything else, he is never just “Armand;” he does not know who that is.

This is further reflected in his names, and the fact that despite having several none belong to him. First there’s Arun. This is supposedly the name he was born with, but even he is not sure of this due to his memory being clouded as a consequence all the horrors he suffered as a child. This name is not his, it is a name so linked to the abuse he endured that it has become the name of said abuse rather than the name of a person. His use of third person when talking about himself as “Arun” signals both a coping mechanism to distance himself from those experiences as well as the disconnect he feels from the identity attached to the name.

Then, there’s Amadeo. A name given to him by Marius, not only linking him directly with his maker and master but with God and worship, the name meaning “lover of god”. This name is also not his, but rather a projection of what Marius saw or expected in Armand. This is what we see in the painting, an ideal: a submissive, worshipful, whitewashed Armand degraded to kneel at the same level as the dog behind him, “basking in (his) worshipful mercy.” Regardless of how Armand did embody this role of worship and servitude during his time with Marius, that painting is not him, it is the fantasized construct that is Amadeo, who doesn’t really exist. When you think about it, Amadeo being a projection of those around him is not entirely different to “dreamstat” being a projection of Louis. This is of course largely my own interpretation and not fact, but I think anyone can agree that who is being portrayed in that painting is Armand only in name. It is simply another example of his body being used for a purpose, an artistic one in this case, his true essence and even features entirely forgotten and replaced by Amadeo’s. So, that name and the identity attached to it wasn’t entirely Armand’s either. Much like “Arun” being tied to his parents abandon and the brothel, Amadeo is trapped in the painting: just another property to be “sold” or “donated;” what Armand has always been treated as.

Finally, there is the name we call him by now: Armand. A name given to him by the Roman coven before sending him to the Paris coven, a collective that he is now supposed to lead and put before himself as an individual. It is a French name, a place he had no connection to before-hand and that only further distances him from who he might have once been, forcing him to adapt and assimilate into the new role he has been chained to. The name is a role in itself, as it means “soldier.” Furthermore, he is not a simple leader to this coven, he is the somewhat paternal and religious figure through which the coven; his “children,” serve Satan and through him, God. He is part of a “murky trinity” as Lestat calls it, a twisted parody of the holy trinity. So, “Armand” is once again much more than a name; it is another projection the lost and abandoned coven latches onto. Of course, they mostly refer to him as “maitre,” the implications of which I’ve already discussed in a different post. In this case, the dual titles “Armand” and “Maitre” are parallel to “Amadeo,” they both link Armand to the concepts of owner and God, except the roles change from being the owned worshiper to the worshiped owner. It remains someone else’s image, someone else’s name, one that prevents Armand from exploring who he is without it.

Armand does not have a name; how can he know who he is?

Even now he seeks the answer in Louis where he will not find it. There are, however, moments in which this seemed to be challenged. For example, shortly after meeting, Armand asks Louis to address him as such instead of “maitre” as his coven does. It is a moment in which he takes agency over what he wants to be called, a privilege he has never had before. Later, Louis calls him Arun as a way to indicate that he can see the person that lies behind the roles he plays, and that he can be himself around Louis. Yet these moments are still tainted. The name Armand does not reflect who he is, and in the conversation with Louis, Armand falls into his old patterns by addressing Louis as “maitre.” Plus, Louis too will go on to misuse this, but that’s a whole other topic. These instances, though revealing a more loving and honest side to Louis’ and Armand’s relationship in which they allow themselves to be open, they can not give Armand a sense of self. No one but himself can, and yet he doesn’t know how that is. It is a tragic never-ending paradox as immortal as he.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #armand #the vampire armand #arun amadeo armand #anne rice #interview with the vampire show #louis de pointe du lac #loumand #dreamstat #interview with the vampire analysis #armand analysis

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jaebeomsbitch · 2 years ago

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Out Of Control (R.R.)

Summary: After years of working for Roman you're finally fed up by the late night calls and verbal abuse. You put Roman in his rightful place.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, humiliation kink, degradation, verbal abuse, dryhumping,

A/N: The stills of Kieran innocently looking up in the actors on actors really wrote this

You were Roman’s first personal assistant. He usually chose to run by himself whereas his siblings had their assistants two steps behind them. He’d joke that they were corporate slaves and you were lucky to be working under him with that knowing smirk on his face. He had a certain aversion to you, something about your presence rubbed him the wrong way. You couldn’t stand him either, always telling yourself it was only temporary while you paid off your loans. Only a year until you finish, you promised yourself.

Only one more year of being antagonized by Roman. He has this annoying habit of calling you at two or three in the morning, demanding you hand deliver some documents to his penthouse. He threatens to fire you if you don’t comply. Only one more year… twelve more months with that insufferable bastard. You stomp toward the elevator, giving the doorman a nod. He’s all too used to seeing you come in pissed off, steam practically blowing out of your ears. As the door dings open you try to remind yourself to keep calm. Don’t snap at him, he’d probably find pleasure in it.

“God no, they’re soulless. I think every time they're on their phone they’re spilling company secrets. Shut the fuck up, no- No. Let me fucking talk Jesus christ. I don’t fucking– Fuck you!” he hangs up his phone call, startled seeing you at the entrance. He motions for you to come in, doesn’t even bother to greet you. You huff, handing him the documents then turning away, prepared to leave.

“Wait,” He says, hand up in the air. You can’t help but roll your eyes, god even his voice was annoying. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Yes?” You respond, voice a little more aggressively than you liked. You wanted to appear collected in front of Roman. Knowing he’d use your weaknesses against you.

“These are the wrong documents, I asked for 12-15. This– you’re fucking kidding me right?” He scoffs, his anger seeping through the room.

“Okay,” You nod stiffly, he definitely didn’t ask for twelve through fifteen but you knew how he operated. He’d always try to push your buttons, ask for one thing and then demanding the other. You learned to keep a copy of anything that’s relevant to him at the time. You look through your bag, pulling out the new documents.

“I also need the documents for the LA contract,” He says, knowing you won’t have those. He hasn’t dealt with the LA branch in almost a year.

“Right now?” You ask, already knowing how he’s gonna reply.

“No fuckin’ tomorrow, yes right now. I can’t sit around and wait for you,” He sneers, a facial expression you’re all too familiar with.

“Give me an hour, need any other document?” You hold your tongue.

“An hour! What type of assistant are you? Jess would’ve had those documents prepared yesterday. You’re fuckin’ useless, maybe I should fire you,” He taunts, his finger pointed at you.

“You know what, fuck this! I fucking quit asshole,” You yell at him. Finally at your breaking point, the late night calls, the beratings, the sexual remarks all too much. His eyes widen, not expecting you to snap. You’re always so calm and collected it honestly scared him. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, unable to mask his true feelings.

“Yeah good riddance,” He gives you a half wave, not looking at you. He pretends to study the documents you handed him, he tries to keep his fear down. Another person in his life gone.

“No- that’s not how this is gonna work,” You enunciate every word, your anger pushing you forward. The years of holding in your pent up emotions finally spilling out.

“You’re a selfish fucking brat, you call me at three in the fucking morning for documents I know you won’t fucking read because you’ll make me read them for you. You’re a fucking piece of shit Roman– Worse. You’re worse than a piece of shit, I think somewhere deep down inside you know you’re nothing. You’re just the cowardly little boy of a billionaire. If only another fucking sperm won huh? Maybe they’d be more fucking competent than you,” You deride.

He looks at you mouth wide open, he’d only ever been spoken to like this by one other person. However, you were more vile and a whole lot less controlled. He notices the way you shake in anger, shit… why was this kind of hot? He clears his throat, trying to drop the documents in his hand on his lap inconspicuously.

“You’re fired, you can leave,” He tries to say in an even tone but his voice cracks a little. You take your time to study him, “No– I’ve taken and taken verbal abuse from you for fucking years now. The least you can do is the same. I’m fired anyway right? Call your security if you’re so scared,” you mock.

“You are the worst type of human, Roman, for someone who talks about his dick all day he can’t fucking use it. I’ve heard the countless stories of scared little Roman pushing women off of him. If you can’t get hard then maybe stop fucking talking to me about your dick. God even your fucking cock is useless just like you,” You sigh, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.

“You seem a little obsessed with my cock for someone who doesn’t want to hear about it,” He chuckles to himself.

“Do you think I’m stupid or that I haven’t noticed? Take the fucking papers off your lap Roman,” You gibe.

“Is this what you like? Can’t fuck your girlfriends because they don’t tell you how fucking disgusting you are? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man,” You take a few steps closer, hovering above him, your breath coming out in puffs. He sits there dumbfounded, at your confidence. You are right, he’s painfully hard under the papers, precum already spilling in his underwear. You forcefully take the documents out of his hand, throwing them on the table.

“You like being reminded how you mean nothing to the world? If I killed you right now, you wouldn’t even make an ATN headline,” You snarl, pushing his shoulder into the seat. He pants, unable to form sentences, random syllables spilling out, he seems like he's under a spell.

“God, what if someone found out hmm? They figured out how the ‘illusive’ Roman Roy likes to be pushed around in bed? That his little dick gets hard at people degrading him?” You push your fingers into his chest. His eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, breath rushing out.

“Get on the floor,” You command, walking over to sit on his couch. He sits there dumbfounded for a second, blinking in confusion.

“Are you fucking stupid? Get on the floor right now Roman,” you say more forcefully. He slowly climbs out of the seat, sitting on his knees. He looks down, embarrassed but he can’t fight your command, your voice has him under some sorcery. That familiar cadence in your voice brings him something he craved.

“Crawl to me, like the disgusting fucking dog you are,” You order, crossing one leg over the other. There is a certain pleasure in watching your annoying boss crawl to you on all fours. His head unable to look up at you as he crowds your leg. He hangs his head in shame, his humiliation seeping in as his cock presses against the zipper on his slacks. He can’t help but shudder at the feeling.

“Is this what you wanted, hmm?” You say sarcastically.

“You acted like a spoiled fucking brat so I can treat you like this? If you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked, like a big boy. So tell me, is this what you wanted?” You ridicule. He can’t look up at you, the words stuck in his throat. It feels like he has honey in his mouth.

“For someone so chatty you sure are quiet now,” You roll your eyes, uncrossing your legs, and leaning forward. You grab his chin in your hand, forcefully pulling him to look at you. His big hazel eyes are watery, he almost looks innocent, but you remember all those times he’s called you nasty names, all his insults.

“Answer me moron,” You bare your teeth, face centimeters from his.

“Y-yes,” He sighs, finally maintaining eye contact.

“‘Yes’ Yes what?” You mock him.

“Yes, I-I called you here to make you mad,” He admits, his eyebrows furrowing making his face look somehow even more innocent.

“What did you want to happen Romulus?” You use his full-name knowing it’s only reserved for when his father is really mad at him. It feels foreign in your mouth and yet perfect. You feel powerful as he shivers under your piercing gaze.

“I- d’know,” He slurs his words, trying to look away from you. His embarrassment hanging heavy as your prod. He truly didn’t know what he wanted… He just wanted to be dominated. You seemed like the perfect person. You were cool and collected with a sea of rage hiding underneath the surface. He was attracted to you the first time he saw you working for Kendall. Something about stealing his brother’s prized possession felt good.

You slip off your shoe, putting it on his couch not caring if it stains it. You press the bottom of your sole to his chest, pushing him deeper onto his knees until his ass hits the floor.

“God you’re pathetic,” You scoff, looking at his big hazel eyes. You run your foot down his chest, he looks down following your path, you drop it to the bulge in his pants, lightly pressing against it. His breath quickens, eyes closing shut as you start moving your foot back and forth. He tries to ground himself, grabbing onto your calf, his nails digging into your skin.

“Who said disgusting pieces of shit like you are allowed to touch me?” You push his hands away from you, his eyes opening.

“Now, what do you want?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest, your foot stops, giving him a chance to think. His mouth opens and closes.

“I- I– I–” he can’t form a full sentence as you start rubbing him through his slacks again.

“ ‘I- I–’ Look at you, you’re all stupid already. Your underwear must be a mess, huh? Fucking useless pervert,” You smirk, enjoying the huffs of his breath filling the room. His hands twitching at his side, his cock throbbing at your words, he lets out a little sound.

“What’s wrong? Already gonna cum? Gonna ruin your pants before you’ve even got your cock in me?” His hands grip the sides of his pants, his hips following your foot. He mewls when you stop, you drop your foot in between his thighs.

“Be a good pup and get yourself off,” You command. He looks at you a little lost but scoots closer, he takes a tentative buck against your leg. He tilts his head back, eyes shutting at the friction, he can’t help but moan..

“Look at you, what would your dad think? What would think seeing his pathetic son humping his assitant’s leg like a fucking dog,” You say.

“Ye- Yes, be so disappointed,” He moans, he bucks his hips faster, losing himself in the feeling.

“Look at you humping my leg like a bitch in heat. You’re fucking pathetic, you disgust me,” You snarl and it pushes him over the edge. His hips twitch, he bites down on your knee, his cum leaking all over his underwear, as he gasps trying to catch his breath, practically slobbering on your knee and inner thigh.

“C’mon,” You pull him up by his armpit onto the couch. He’s shaking, this all was too much, his feelings overflowing.

“Shh.. it’s okay,” You pull him close, rubbing his back as his emotions crash over him like a wave. He rocks himself back and forth in your arms as you soothe him, you pull him onto your lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent until he’s calmed down. Isn’t this a bitch? You have to calm him down. You’d feel much differently if this was a scene and he was your sub but he decided to take the difficult route.

“You okay?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. He doesn’t know what to say, he needed the release, craved it but now that it’s over he’s left with that hole in his heart again. If only you both were different. If you weren’t his assistant and he wasn’t an asshole.

“Yeah, I’m good. So good,” He scoffs, removing himself from your lap. He doesn’t look at you, walking into his bedroom and changing. After about twenty minutes of waiting you decide to leave, clearly he wasn’t emotionally mature to talk about whatever happened between the two of you.

To your surprise you get a phone call in the morning, “Where the fuck are you, god you’re so incompetent!” Roman grumbles on the line. His words have no bite now that you know how to put him in his place.

#roman roy #succession #roman roy imagine #succession roman #succession hbo #roman roy x reader #roman roy / reader #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader smut #romulus roy #gender neutral reader #roman roy x gender neutral reader #sub and dom #sub and dom dynamics #roman is a sub

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curtwilde · 2 years ago

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Henry vs Julian

I have been thinking about this a lot. While Henry clearly admires and models his scholar self on Julian, their essential difference is in how they perceive the Ancient Greeks.

Julian's interest in the Ancient Greeks is true interest, he admires their high and exalted values. For him, the Greeks were the highest point of human civilization, and the closer he comes to his own time the more his disdain increases - the Roman Catholic Church he holds in contempt but it's still a 'worthy enemy' not as bad as the Presbyterian Church. It isn't mentioned but he must hold modernism and it's philosophy with disdain - modernist moral vacousness being a direct contradiction of the idealist values loyalty, honor, chastity etc. that were so exalted by the Greeks. Which is why he is always cherry picks, sees only what he wants to see, and invents what he can't - both for himself (his ambiguous involvement with the Isrami government) or for his students (encouraging Richard to lie about his life in California). Since he can't time travel back to Greece himself, he must try to live that life as much as he can and believe himself a character in a Greek play. But it comes, not from a place of wanting to escape his current reality, but true admiration of the ancient Greek way of seeing and doing things.

Henry is a true modernist. The monologue about feeling dead is central to his understanding his character:

Maybe it stems from his near death experience but he sees the world as inherently meaningless, God is dead and heaven and hell have been revealed to be man-made constructs, there is no punishment for evil and since there is no moral line. I think he subconsciously realised all of this before coming to Hampden, but to truly accept it would have been soul-crushing. So he tries to escape it by immersing himself in the Greeks, I imagine the absolutist values, vague representational ideas pertaining to each god might have interested him but really, it could have been anything else, the Medieval Age or the Victorians, anything. He just needed something to be obsessed with, to give meaning to his existence which he subconsciously knew to be meaningless. So is his adoration of Julian, he admired and wanted Julian's ability to almost half-live in another time when, in his view, things mattered more (we have divinity in our midst). It also explains the Bacchanal which is otherwise so out of character for him. The appeal was to escape the soul crushing knowledge of meaninglessness - even if for a while. To worship and call on Dinosiyus with the blind belief of the Ancient Greeks, a kind of belief that simply cannot exist anymore in the postmodern, post-Neitzche world. His harebrained plans also came from the same impulse, including the poison plan, and the one way ticket to Argentina.

I suspect that what subconsciously drove him to murder bunny, aside from the obvious fear of getting caught - is the same thing that drove Mersault to murder the Arab - it's the old existentialist question, if good and bad are relative and there is no punishment for evil, how far can one go? Bunny's murder was Henry's existentialist experiment with himself. And, I think in a way it confirmed for him what he already knew, they escaped unscathed and he didn't feel any of the fear or remorse he expected to feel. While it did give him the momentary sense of power, the feeling that he could now do whatever he wanted if he can be clever enough to not get caught, since he won't be punished for it otherwise. While it gave him enough courage to go get the girl he always wanted - it did confirm for him the inherent meaninglessness of the world. Also, conversely, Camilla could have been another experiment - something must matter, was it love? Camilla was the only girl he knew and he was fond of her - he may not even have thought of her romantically before considering he never cared to act on it in all the time he had known her. But either way, Julian's abandonment broke him.

Coming back to Julian, Julian's abandonment omakes perfect sense to me - he was disgusted by the modernist moral vacousness in his students. He himself was a moral man, but his morals operated on his own standards. He based it on the Greek sense of Honour, not the more modern sense of Justice. His basic instinct was the preservation of his own purity - he couldn't possibly keep on as their teacher. But also, to turn them in would be against his sense of honour - he must have very little respect for the police and law enforcement as institutions being the kind of person he is. Not to mention it would mean his having to be in frequent contact with the police and court. From his point of view atleast, leaving is the only thing he could have done, really.

For Henry however, he sees that his obsession with the Greeks as well as his admiration for Julian as the sham that it really was, is disillusioned with the world, shattered. Except for his fondness for Camilla he didn't really have anyone he loved, he saw his friends as pawns, wasn't close to his family, didn't have any goals in life with everything in his reach with his father's money - the only person he had really loved was Julian, and there he was betrayed. His obsession with the ancient Greeks was also thus tainted with Julian's betrayal - since it wasn't true interest at all, only a disguised attempt at escapism - it wavered and fell apart, and he didn't have a reason to live anymore.

Side note : Richard falls between the two. Like Julian, he had a real interest in the ancient Greeks, but he didn't put them on a pedestal like Julian did. He realised that like his own time, and like all other times in history the Greek civilization too had its own good and bad aspects, and he wanted to learn about it for its own sake. But he doesn't make it his life, or use it to escape his own reality - outside of his classes he was very much rooted in his own time.

#the secret history #tsh #donna tartt #henry winter #julian morrow #richard papen #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #francis abernathy #bunny corcoran #tina rambles #lit

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