#Claudius Character Study

[ycungmagick]

Side Muse: Claudius Darkwood

[bloodcursecycle-if]

When a person commits a rather horrendous act against others, a karmic-like phenomenon called a Blood Curse is placed upon them and their bloodline. Terrible events occur every generation until someone is able to right the wrong committed. Your twin sister was the most recent victim of the Curse, being poisoned at her own coronation celebration ball. Now it's up to you to figure out how to break this curse before it claims you as well.

The Blood Curse Cycle is a WIP and new interactive CYOA novel. The focus will mostly be on the plotline, characters, and relationships. It's inspired by many JRPGs/RPGs. It's being written in ChoiceScript. While it will have a more story-based focus, there will be stat-based mechanics as well.

This is the revamped version of my first interactive fiction project, Under the Eyes of Themis. The premise is similar, but a few changes have been made.

You play as the youngest member of the Grasslands' royal family. Your family suffers from something called a Blood Curse, a supernatural karmic-like phenomenon placed onto people and their bloodlines for committing horrendous crimes against others. Sufferers from the curse will experience tragedy after tragedy until the Curse is broken or the bloodline ceases to exist.

Your sister is the most recent victim of the curse, dying from poisoning at her coronation celebration ball. Deciding you would like to not die a tragic and/or painful death, you set out on a journey to figure out exactly what your family did and how to break the curse.

Note: Because this is still a WIP, some names of characters or places may change during development.

Genre: Fantasy Adventure, Romance, Mystery

Rating: 18+

Tracked Tag: #blood curse cycle

Status: On Hiatus

Demo || Romance Options || Side Characters || FAQ || Ask Guidelines || Tag Navigation || World Lore || Dev's Main Blog ||

Create and customize your main character. Select their gender, pronouns, appearance, and personality.

Explore the continent of Runnet and its 8 nations, each with different views, cultures, and hidden secrets.

Join and lead a group of other Blood Curse sufferers to find out how to break your curses.

Romance any of your 5 companions: the Prince from the Woodlands, the Knight from the Dustlands, the Scholar from the Palmlands, the Healer from the Fieldlands, or the Assassin from the Floelands.

Choose to help or hinder your companions in their own quests to break their Curses.

Discover leads, find clues, and dig deep to figure out why your bloodline was cursed and how to break it before time runs out.

Alceste Claudius d'Emeraude (he/him) - The Prince of the Woodlands Kingdom. Flirty and laid-back, he tends to not take anything too seriously... including his Curse.

Larisilla Cornaline (she/her) - The Knight from the Dustlands. Serious and blunt, it takes a bit for her to warm up to people. She is the most vocal about getting rid of her Curse.

Dionys Topaze (he/him) - The Scholar from the Palmlands. Kind and intelligent, his main area of study are Blood Curses, the types and how to break them. He is the closest to breaking his Curse.

Somnia Disthene (she/her) - The Healer from the Fieldlands. Shy and helpful, she specializes in treatments that neutralize a Curse's affects. Just don't ask about her Curse.

Enyo Perle (he/him) OR (she/her) - The Assassin from the Floelands. Loud and outgoing, they are eager to help out the group. Although, it's a bit strange that they've never brought up their Curse.

[hamletthedane]

Hamlet’s Age

Not to bring up an age-old debate that doesn’t even matter, but I have been thinking recently how interesting Hamlet’s age is both in-text and as meta-text.

To summarize a whole lot of discussion, we basically only have the following clues as to Hamlet’s age:

Hamlet and Horatio are both college students at Wittenberg. In Early Modern/Late Renaissance Europe, noble boys typically began their university education at 14 and usually completed at their Bachelor’s degree by 18 or 19. However, they may have been studying for their Master’s degrees, which was typically awarded by age 25 at the latest. For reference, contemporary Kit Marlowe was a pretty late bloomer who received a bachelor’s degree at 20 and a master’s degree at 23.

Hamlet is AGGRESSIVELY described as a “youth” by many different characters - I believe more than any other male shakespeare character (other than 16yo Romeo). While usage could vary, Shakespeare tended to use “youth” to mean a man in his late teens/very early 20s (actually, he mostly uses it to describe beardless ‘men’ who are actually crossdressing women - likely literally played by young men in their late teens)

King Hamlet is old enough to be grey-haired, but Queen Gertrude is young enough to have additional children (or so Hamlet strongly implies)

Hamlet talks about plucking out the hairs of his beard, so he is old enough to at least theoretically have a beard

In the folio version, the gravedigger says he became a gravedigger the day of Hamlet’s birth, and that he’s be “sixteene here, man and boy, thirty years.” However, it’s unclear if “sixteene” means “sixteen” or “sexton” (ie has he worked here for 16 years but is 30 years old, or has he been sexton there for thirty years?)

Hamlet knew Yorick as a young child, and the gravedigger says Yorick was buried 23 years ago. However, the first quarto version version of Hamlet says “dozen years” instead of “three and twenty.” This suggests the line changed over time. (Or that the bad quarto sucks - I really need to make that post about it, huh…)

Yorick is a skull, and according to the gravedigger’s expertise, he has thus been dead for at least 7-8 years - implying Hamlet is at least ~15yo if he remembers Yorick from his childhood

One important thing sometimes overlooked - Claudius takes the throne at King Hamlet’s death, not Prince Hamlet. That is mostly a commentary on English and French monarchist politics at the time, but it is strange within the internal text. A thirty year old Hamlet presumably would have become the new monarch, not the married-in uncle (unless Gertrude is the vehicle through which the crown passes a la Mary I/Phillip II - certainly food for thought)

Honestly, Hamlet is SO aggressively described as being very young that I’m fairly confident the in-text intention is to have him be around 18-23yo. Placing his age at 30yo simply does not make much sense in the context of his descriptors, his narrative role, and his status as a university student.

However, it doesn’t really matter what the “right” answer is, because the confusion itself is what makes the gravedigger scene so interesting and metatextual. We can basically assume one of the following, given the folio text:

Hamlet really is meant to be 30yo, and that was supposed to surprise or imply something to the contemporary audience that is now lost to us

Older actors were playing Hamlet by the time the folio was written down, and the gravedigger’s description was an in-text justification of the seeming disconnect between age of actor and description of “youth”

Older actors were playing Hamlet by the time the folio was set down, and the gravedigger’s description was an in-text JOKE making fun of the fact that a 30-something year old is playing a high-school aged boy. This makes sense, as the gravedigger is a clown and Hamlet is a play that constantly pokes fun at its own tropes and breaks the fourth wall for its audience

The gravedigger cannot count or remember how old he is, and that’s the joke (this is the most common modern interpretation whenever the line isn’t otherwise played straight). If the clown was, for example, particularly old, those lines would be very funny

Any way you look at it, I believe something is echoing there. It seems like this is one of the many moments in Hamlet where you catch a glimpse of some contemporary in-joke about theater and theater culture* that we can only try to parse out from limited context 430 years later. And honestly, that’s so interesting and cool.

*(My other favorite example of this is when Hamlet asks Polonius about what it was like to play Julius Caesar in an exchange that pokes fun of Polonius’ actor a little. This is clearly an inside-joke directed at Globe regulars - the actor who played Polonius must have also played Julius Caesar in Shakespeare’s play, and been very well reviewed. Hamlet’s joke about Brutus also implies the actor who played Brutus is one of the main cast in Hamlet - possibly even the prince himself, depending on how the line is read).

[deadhellenist]

types of tagamemnon posts

- "hey did you know in (ancient greece/rome/gaul/asia minor/etc) people used to do this isn't that hilarious"

- (in response to the previous) "hey op i have a degree in greco roman studies and i'm 99% sure that's something the victorians made up"

- (a joke about worshipping hellenic dieties)

- (a not-joke about worshipping hellenic dieties)

- "please enjoy this incredibly detailed fic i made that's a spin-off of a homeric epic"

- "(character from a homeric epic) was a dilf you like you agree you reblog"

- "soooo (roman generals and or politicians, dealers choice) were definately fucking right? right?"

- (twinkified octavian/augustus)

- (in response to previous) "nooooooo you can't do that!! not to my weirdly idolized big macho man!! what would julius caesar think!!"

- (i, claudius gif)

- (percy jackson)

[beyondmistland]

I read through all your posts about Alysanne Targaryen as Maegor's daughter and am now in a rabbit hole. Thank you. I've been thinking about Maegor's wives and which one of Henry VIII's wives they represent. Ceryse is Cathrine of Aragon and Alys is Anne Boleyn. The others are hard to pin for me since there isn't a lot. What do you think? Would Maegor's reign have been more interesting if his marriages had more similarities to those of Henry VIII?

I think this is where we run into a number of problems regarding the way GRRM wrote Fire & Blood specifically and the way he setup Westeros more generally.

For one, the fairly homogenized nature of southron culture as well as the oversimplification of religious institutions and history means you can't quite get the same dynamism as from real life European history, with its dizzying array of languages, cultures, cuisines, fashions, etc., to mention nothing of the then-ongoing Protestant Reformation. I suppose GRRM could have had Maegor convert to the Old Gods a la Julian (II) the Apostate or the Drowned God (you just know the Ironborn are the one race on the surface of Planetos that would say King Maegor the Good with a completely straight face) or even R'hllor, which would be the best choice in terms of worldbuilding opportunities in my opinion.

Moving on, we run into a handful of problems with Maegor specifically, one of them being the length of his reign. Look, while I can't deny Maegor ruling for 6 years and 66 days is incredibly cheeky, it also isn't anywhere close to Henry VIII's 36 years as king. With so little room timeline-wise, there isn't a lot of flexibility when it comes to telling new stories and fleshing out preexisting ones and all that is before you factor in Maegor himself.

I won't hold back. For all GRRM's talk of moral ambiguity, the human heart in conflict with itself, good men who were bad kings and bad men who were good kings, etc., his Targaryen monarchs are, for the most part, numbingly one-note. Aegon I is a literal enigma, Aenys is weak, Maegor cruel, Viserys I a party animal, Aegon II and Rhaenyra mirror-images of each other in their disqualifying vices, etc. As I've written before with my post reimagining Maegor as more of a Ivan (IV) the Terrible figure there was room to make him a genuinely controversial figure of historiography but instead GRRM doubled down on sensationalism and apathy-inducing slasher porn for lack of a better word. The fact Maegor is also the first and last of Visenya's line just adds more salt to the wound but that's part of GRRM's more general (and for me personally, vexing) habit of keeping family trees incredibly small.

(I do recall another alternative someone once brought up to the late Steven Attewell. Namely, turning Maegor into the Westerosi version of Macbeth by way of Der Untergang.)

This brings me to my semifinal point. GRRM didn't have to write Fire & Blood as Procopius' Secret History on steroids with a dash of Suetonius' Lives of Twelve Caesars and I, Claudius (the entire Saera episode is practically lifted wholesale from the scandal that envelops Augustus' daughter, Julia) but he did, which is doubly disappointing because not only does the final product suck quality-wise as a result but also because there were so many other avenues available to him.

He could have written Fire & Blood as a proper history (with less focus on the sex lives of teenage girls for one) or as a mirror for princes or as a dialogue between two characters or even as a character study. You can even see GRRM struggling with the constraints imposed by his use of Gyldayn in certain sections like the death of Maelor and the entire Hour of the Wolf episode, where you get reams of dialogue and characterization as well as more traditional narrative trappings like build-up, mood setting, etc.

Now, to answer your actual question (lol), I don't think any of Henry VIII's other wives map well onto Maegor's. Tyanna is, more or less, his female counterpart in terms of cruelty and zero redeeming features and entirely a fantasy construct. Elinor and Jeyne are both married to Maegor for only a year (with poor Jeyne dying in childbirth because Jeyne Westerlings, like the Brackens, Peakes, and Florents, cannot catch a break in Westeros) and before said marriage takes place neither appears on the page. As for Rhaena, well, credit where its due, she was a rare (and unexpected) highlight of Fire & Blood.

Thanks for the question, anon

[pascalhowlett]

Ethereal Chapter 4

A/N: HELLO HI VERY IMPORTANT! This chapter has some triggering scenarios when it comes to r!pe and non-consensual relationships between Geta and Cecilia. If that is something that triggers you, I ask you please do not read this chapter!

If you prefer to read on AO3, that can be found here!

Warnings: Mentions of r*pe, implied r*pe, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, smut

Summary: After the Roman Empire takes over Numidia, Cecilia is purchased by Emperor Geta as a pawn in his attempts to take over Rome. What will happen when she meets General Marcus Acacius, the soldier who was responsible for the death of her lover, Atticus Claudius?

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Original Female Character

This is Chapter 4! Find the rest of the chapters on my Tumblr here!

Word Count: 3k

That evening, Cecilia took her place beside Geta at the long dining table. Caracalla sat across from them, his expression a perpetual mask of discontent. The feast laid out before them was almost obscene in its abundance—a spread that could have easily satisfied a dozen soldiers, yet it was prepared for only the three of them. Golden loaves of bread still warm from the oven, succulent porchetta glistening with herbs and juices, bowls of vibrant fruits bursting with color, and pitchers of red wine stood in silent testament to the brothers’ grotesque privilege.

Despite the abundance of Roman delicacies, Cecilia could barely touch the slice of bread resting on her plate. Her stomach churned, not with hunger, but with unease. She knew she had to sing a different tune with Geta now in order to make him believe she had become smitten.

“I cannot believe the General,” Geta suddenly muttered, his voice thick with disdain as he speared a piece of meat. “Running off like a coward and leaving us to fend for ourselves. Taking my wife like she is more important than us”

Caracalla snorted in agreement, his grip tightening on his glass. “The man deserves nothing less than execution for such betrayal. Beheading would be a mercy for General Acacius.”

Cecilia hesitated, her fingers brushing the rim of her cup. She noticed that their words about the General angered her in a way they had not before. “He was shocked, that’s all,” she said softly, willing her voice to remain steady. “I’ll make sure he understands his duty—to protect the both of you—next time.”

“Next time?” Geta shot her a sharp look, his brow furrowing. “Where did he even take you, Cecilia? I pray there will not be a next time.”

“He… he just brought me back to the palace,” she replied, forcing a smile that she hoped seemed genuine as she picked at her food. “I stayed in our room until you both arrived.”

Geta seemed satisfied with her answer, nodding as he resumed eating, though Caracalla’s narrowed eyes lingered on her a moment longer. Cecilia lowered her gaze to her untouched bread, her heartbeat quickening. Lies came easier with practice, but the weight of them never lessened.

She still was shaken up from the news of Atticus. She felt betrayed, like he had been lying to her. What would she have done if Acacius hadn’t told her? She asked herself. 

Breaking the tense silence, she looked to Geta, her voice trembling despite herself. “Geta, my love?”

Her words felt foreign, unnatural, as if they belonged to someone else. She cringed inwardly, but there was no turning back now.

“Speak, little dove,” Geta commanded, putting down his utensils to drink his wine.

“I…I just wanted to apologize for my behavior at the games today,” she swallowed, she felt like her throat was swelling as she forced the words, “I love you, and I shouldn’t speak unless spoken to.”

For a moment, silence once again enveloped the room, broken only by the faint crackle of the torches mounted on the walls and the clinks of dishes as they were passed about the table. Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her with a faint smirk curling his lips.

“Well, well,” he mused, swirling his wine. “I suppose even a bird can learn its place with proper training.” He reached across the table and tilted her chin up with a finger, his grip deceptively gentle. “You’ll remember that next time, won’t you, my dear?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest. “I will, your highness.”

Caracalla snorted softly but said nothing, his eyes flicking between Geta and Cecilia before returning to his plate. Cecilia lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning with humiliation. She fought to steady her breathing, desperate to hold onto the mask she wore.

Beneath it all, her mind churned, replaying the words of General Acacius. Atticus had known of the plans that were made for her. He’d lied. The sting of it was almost unbearable, but now was not the time to unravel. If she crumbled in this room filled with watchful eyes, she would lose more than her pride.

She forced herself to lift her goblet, the wine sloshing slightly as her hands trembled. “To your honor both of you,” she said to the brothers, her voice thin but clear.

Geta raised his cup, his smirk broadening. “To mine.”

As they drank, Cecilia’s thoughts swirled with growing clarity The room buzzed with conversation again, but Cecilia’s mind was already elsewhere, turning over the plans she barely dared to entertain. If she wanted to survive, she would need more than apologies and submission. She would have to give him what he really wanted. 

“Will the games continue tomorrow?” she asked, assuming she could speak.

Geta paused, his goblet midway to his lips. His dark eyes fixed on her, narrowing slightly, as though weighing whether her question warranted his breath. “They will,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “Why do you ask?”

Cecilia hesitated, feeling the weight of Caracalla’s gaze settle on her like a predator studying prey once more. She licked her lips, trying to keep her tone neutral. “I was just curious,” she replied. “The people seemed so lively today. I thought they might want more.”

Caracalla let out a sharp laugh, setting his goblet down with a thud. “The people always want more,” he sneered. “Blood and spectacle—that’s all they understand. That’s all they’re good for. But I must say, I find pleasure in it as well.”

“Enough,” Geta said, raising a hand to silence his brother. He turned his attention back to Cecilia. “If you must know, tomorrow’s games will be grander. More beasts, more gladiators, more death.” A thin smile played on his lips. “I imagine you’ll enjoy it, little dove.”

Cecilia forced a small smile, though her stomach twisted at the thought. She nodded, lowering her eyes to her plate. “Of course, my love,” she said softly, “I am sure whatever you two have planned will be a spectacle.”

“What I have planned, little dove,” Geta corrected her, “Caracalla is no use when executing the games. He does no more than pleasure himself to the sight of the gladiators’ bloodshed.”

Caracalla’s goblet clinked against the table loudly as he set it down with deliberate force. “Careful, brother,” he said, his voice low but dangerous. “Your tongue wags a little too fiercely.”

“Oh, does it?” Geta replied, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Tell me, what exactly do you contribute, Caracalla? Besides criticism and the release of your desires?”

The tension between the brothers thickened, and Cecilia sat frozen, her pulse quickening. The air felt charged, like a storm waiting to break. She did not realize how much they argued, purely to see who was more powerful than the other.

“I contribute more than you could ever hope to understand,” Caracalla shot back, his eyes narrowing. “While you play your games and parade your purchased wife like a pompous fool, I see the bigger picture. The games are nothing without the politics behind them, the alliances they secure. The relationships they create. Perhaps you should pay attention to the matches rather than your trophy of a woman.”

Geta’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, waving a dismissive hand. “Politics,” he scoffed. “You mean the web of lies you so enjoy weaving? Spare me.”

“Enough,” Cecilia interjected softly, surprising even herself with her words. Both men turned to her, their sharp gazes cutting like knives deep into her soul. Her heart pounded, but she kept her voice steady. “Please, this is dinner, not a battlefield.”

For a moment, neither brother spoke. Then Geta chuckled, breaking the silence. “You see, Caracalla? Even my little dove has more sense than you.”

Caracalla’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, reaching for his goblet instead as he shot daggers at Cecilia. She exhaled quietly.  The tension had momentarily diffused, but she knew it was far from gone. The animosity between the brothers was a fire constantly smoldering. She took a sip of her wine. If she could navigate their rivalry, perhaps there was a way to exploit it. If they were too busy fighting each other, they might overlook her. And if they overlooked her, she could crumble the two of them from within.

The conversation moved on without her, Geta and Caracalla discussing the logistics of the games and the political power they wielded through them. Their voices faded into a dull hum in her ears as she stared at the table, her mind elsewhere.

Tomorrow. The games would be bigger, louder, bloodier. She would be expected to sit there, to smile and applaud like a devoted wife. But the thought of it churned her stomach. Tomorrow would come, and with it, more pointless death. But perhaps, it would also bring a chance to tip the scales. 

The only comfort she could find as she tried to prepare herself for the games was the idea of General Acacius. Even if she had to act like she enjoyed the horrid events, she would have the General to guide her, to ground her. Even amidst the looming dread of faux smiles and forced applause, the idea of his presence brought a sense of peace. She thought about his embrace that seemed to pull her in when she felt she was drifting away. The same embrace that kept her sane when her world had changed forever just mere hours ago. In that moment, as her world had tilted and fractured, his touch had grounded her, keeping her from drifting into the darker corners of her mind.

The memory was bittersweet. She thought about his broad stature, the way he exudes a commanding yet understated allure, a quiet confidence that draws the eye without demanding one’s attention. She thought of his bold attributes—sharp cheekbones softened by a well-kept, gray beard. His face carried a weathered charm, as if etched by the passage of time and the weight of countless decisions. His gaze is always one full of thought, one that always peered into his soul. 

There’s a sense of quiet passion about him, an intensity that suggests he loves with the same fierce devotion he brings to his duties. The thought of that overwhelms her, a crimson blush painting her cheeks as she brings herself back to the dinner table. There was comfort in the thought of Acacius, but also an uneasiness that ebbed and flowed along with it. She knew her reliance on him was growing into a…dependence. That scared her, especially after the news of Atticus’ dishonesty.

“Little dove,” Geta said, bringing her back to reality, “are you ready for bed?” 

Her stomach churned, not for sleep, but for the forced implications of laying with the emperor. “Yes, my love,” she stated, standing from the table and bidding goodnight to Caracalla.

Caracalla smirked at the two of them. “You should send her my way sometime, brother,” he nearly laughed, “we always enjoyed each other’s company at the brothel.”

Cecilia froze, Caracalla’s suggestive words hung in the air. Her face burned with humiliation, though she refused to look at Caracalla. She was always disgusted with him, but he was always the highest bidder, of course. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, hidden by the folds of her dress.

Geta’s expression darkened, an arm wrapping around his wife as he spoke. “Watch your tongue, Caracalla,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “She’s mine now, and I don’t share.”

Caracalla chuckled, raising his goblet in mock surrender. “Of course, brother,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” But the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise, a deliberate taunt that left the tension evident. Caracalla was a disgusting man. She knew Caracalla probably did dream of her, her image radiating in his disturbing fantasies. Emperor Caracalla did not care if Cecilia was wed to his brother, he would have her either way.

Cecilia forced herself to move towards her shared bedroom with Geta, her legs stiff as she stepped away from the table. Every step felt like she had bricks tied to her ankles. As she reached the doorway, she dared a glance back to look at her husband. Geta was looking at her hungrily, his eyes full of lust and desire. 

There was no denying that Geta considered Cecilia one of the most beautiful women in Rome. She had heard him boast about her beauty countless times to senators, dignitaries, and even his own brother. But to her, his admiration felt hollow, empty and seated only in expected desire. She wasn’t his equal, nor his partner. She was his possession—a living, breathing trophy he displayed to assert his dominance in comparison to his older brother. 

Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as she tried to collect herself. She had learned long ago how to endure, how to play the role of a pleasured woman. But tonight, as the memory of Caracalla’s taunt echoed in her ears and the weight of her husband’s gaze lingered on her skin, she felt her act begin to diminish.

For now, all she could do was walk forward towards the mountain of sheets, step by agonizing step, toward a night she wished she could escape. As Geta locked the door, he turned to kiss her. She forced herself to stay still, her lips barely responding to him as his lips pressed against her own. When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered on her, searching for something she wasn’t sure she could give. “You’re mine, little dove,” he murmured, “Don’t forget that.”

Cecilia managed a faint nod, her throat tight as if the words she wanted to say were caught there. “Of course, all yours…your highness,” she whispered, the lie slipping from her lips with practiced ease.

Geta smiled, seemingly satisfied, and moved to the edge of the bed, removing his ornate outer garments. Cecilia stood frozen in place for a moment, her hands trembling at her sides as she urged her body to do something…anything. She felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of his high, impractical expectations for her. She moved toward him, her mind racing for ways to endure another night of this charade.

-

Just before the rise of dawn, she met Acacius in the alcove just as they had promised one another the afternoon prior. Acacius had beat her there, and was welcoming as she entered their small hideaway. His broad frame was bathed in the faint glow of the first hints of morning light, his silhouette calm and steady as he leaned against the wall, posed just like the support she needed him to be. When he saw her approach, his face softened, and he straightened. He stepped toward her with a warm smile.

“Cecilia,” he said, his voice low but filled with adoration, “You made it.”

“I couldn’t stay another moment in that room,” she replied, but still managed to smile at his comforting gaze. The tension she had carried all night was still coiled tightly in her chest, but something about Acacius’ presence began to ease it. She started to feel like she could breathe again.

As she stepped fully into their little hideaway, he reached out, his hands brushing her arms in a gesture that was both protective and grounding. “You’re safe here,” he murmured, reminding her gently. “What happened?”

Her throat tightened as she looked up at him. The words threatened to spill out, but she hesitated, unsure of where to begin or how much to say. She did not like speaking about it. She felt she could never truly tell him, as the reminder stirred feelings deep within her that caused terror.  “It’s…it’s nothing new,” she finally managed, “Just more of the same.”

Acacius’ jaw clenched, his hands briefly tightening on her arms before he let out a controlled breath. “You don’t deserve this,” he said, his voice rough with restrained anger. “Any of it.”

Cecilia shook her head, tears pricking at her eyes. “I don’t have a choice, Acacius. Atticus signed me up for this pain, and I must follow through.”

“Atticus wronged you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “But I won’t let you be.”

His words wrapped around her like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her hurt. She let herself lean into him, her forehead resting against his chest. She knew he was right. Atticus had wronged her, and she had needed someone else to tell her that. For a moment, the world outside the alcove faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Acacius wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as though he could shield her from the weight of the world. His touch was firm yet tender, his hands settling on her back with a protective instinct that warred against the fire steadily growing within him. He knew he shouldn’t let himself feel this way about her. She was young, fragile. But she was also forbidden to him, bound to a man unworthy of her. Yet, no matter how fiercely he tried to fight it, his feelings for Cecilia only grew stronger with each stolen moment they shared in the small hideaway. Every glance, every word, every touch chipped away at his resolve, leaving him powerless against the tide of emotions he felt soon he would be no longer able to control.

Acacius closed his eyes, his cheek brushing the top of her head as he tried to bring himself back down to earth. Her presence was intoxicating—a bittersweet ache that made his heart race. He wondered if she could feel his heart rate quicken as he held her. He wanted to fight it, to push her away for both their sakes, but every time she sought him out, every time she looked at him with those pleading, vulnerable eyes, he was a goner.

“Cecilia,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I wish I could take you far away from here. Away from all of this.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. “If only it were that simple,” she whispered.

He reached up, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered, his touch gentle as though she might break under his touch. “One day,” he said quietly, the words more a vow than a hope. “One day, I’ll find a way. You will not live in this reality forever. I promise.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the air. Acacius knew the dangers of this attachment. He knew it could cost them both dearly, but in that moment, with her in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

Okay but as a literature nerd I fucking LOVE that the new Ghost shirt design is a John Everett Millais reference. The pre-Raphaelites were a group of poets and artists we got to discuss and study when we were studying Victorian literature during my second year at uni and I was so fascinated by them that I wrote one of my assignments on the male gaze within Dante Gabriel Rossetti's poems Soul's Beauty and Body's Beauty (and their accompanying paintings).

More than that, though, it also fascinates me as a Shakespeare fan that Ophelia was chosen. Ophelia, who either is driven mad or falls into a deep, inconsolable despair in Hamlet because of the way she is used by the titular character and suffers bc of the political games within the family. I talked about this with someone on discord and we both agreed that this feels very Copia.

Could Ophelia's tragic fate within Hamlet be a hint towards Copia's? Or what about events in the broader play? Will the events that unfold within Ghost lore running up to Copia's departure from the band mirror the events in the play? After all, he's already arguably haunted by his father's ghost, just as Hamlet was. And when he cries out "no" and runs off the stage during Rats, could that not be argued that it's a sign of him beginning to spiral into despair? Will we see him dripping poison (literally) into Saltarian's ear in a plot to kill him? (I say Saltarian bc Imperator would take the role of Hamlet's mother, Gertrude, while Saltarian would be Claudius)

But hey. That's just a theory. Maybe it has no meaning at all and it's just a cool shirt design.

[moonlarked]

one thing that I think should be emphasized in Horatio’s character is the fact that no matter how educated or court-assimilated he is, he will never be treated as anything other than lower because of his birth.

Horatio is smart, he knows court speak and etiquette, and he studied alongside a prince. But the only people who acknowledge his education are Hamlet, his friend, and the guards, who aren’t royal and therefore are probably more comfortable around Horatio. Gertrude and Claudius see him as little more than a servant, despite what he’s accomplished when it comes to schooling. They don’t mention him at all when it comes to Hamlet going back to Wittenberg. Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Osric don’t even acknowledge his presence. He’s a nobody to practically everyone at the court. Despite the face that he studied at Wittenberg along Hamlet, he isn’t seen as anything more than lower.

[keepthisholykiss]

just saw the coolest hamlet production of my LIFE so i am going to tell everyone about it please lend me your ears the following rant will be incoherent and unedited but idc just listen to this shit

Okay so this production was by Patch Productions Theatre and was directed and produced by Atticus Belmonte who also played Gertrude. The cast was 8 people and it was immersive, meaning we could follow specific characters throughout the theatre and see scenes of our choosing depending on who we followed.

Initially my partner and I followed Hamlet, naturally, but soon we found ourselves running up and down spiral staircases, dashing behind the main stage, and hiding in corners of rooms to listen to as much as possible.

This production offered unique scenes featuring all the characters, building off the theory of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead and focusing on what it means to be each character in this story. At times Ophelia could be found singing, sobbing, and popping one too many pills alone in a room. Other times Claudius and Gertrude may be whispering in a corner. Laertes sat alone on a couch playing with a musical doll and reciting advice from Polonius. The play utilized music like that of Regina Spektor and poetry from Sylvia Plath.

We found ourselves gravitating to Ophelia specifically over and over again as this character study and performance was so amazing. Ophelia tragically overdoses while a projection of Dolly Parton’s rendition of I Will Always Love You plays overtop. The song glitches at the moment of Ophelia’s death and returns to a steady video as Gertrude finds her body.

The setting of immersive theatre allows for the feeling of being included in intimate moments and peeks behind the curtain but this particular production took every emotion of Hamlet and forced it in your face all at once. The utilization of drag performance and styling also gave a particularly poignant note to how queerness can exist within this same context.

One of the most amazing moments for me was slipping into a room to watch Ophelia lament over Polonius’ death only to hear Hamlet in the hall behind us giving the “now might I do it” speech. The scenes were rearranged in a perfect adaptation which brought forward so many new ways to enjoy a play I have studied on-end.

None of this summary is cohesive I’m sure as this play absolutely fried my brain. But long story short I loved it and I hope everyone alive can experience a similar Hamlet in their own time. Currently my spouse and I are in a years-long journey to adapt Hamlet in our own way and viewing this production turned my understanding of the play on its nose (for the better!) and I am so excited to keep experiencing Hamlet through the eyes of others.

[lizardrosen]

@glintglimmergleam, @avocado-moon, It's finished!!

Every year at Aubrey Hall, the Bridgerton siblings convene on Boxing Day to mount a Shakespeare play under their acting company, The Viscount’s Men. Every year Eloise gets mad that they wouldn’t choose a gender neutral name, and every year she’s shouted down because it’s a historical reference to Shakespeare’s own troupe, The Lord Chamberlain’s Men. The argument she’s bound to lose is as much of a tradition as the play itself. The audience has always been exclusively their parents and the Aubrey Hall servants, and maybe Lady Danbury if she's visiting for Christmas. In 1814, the play they choose is Hamlet.

Relationships: Hamlet/Ophelia (Hamlet), Claudius/Gertrude (Hamlet), Gertrude/Hamlet Sr. (Hamlet), Edmund Bridgerton/Violet Bridgerton, Henry Granville/Lord Wetherby

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton

Hamlet (Hamlet), Laertes (Hamlet), Polonius (Hamlet), Gertrude (Hamlet), Ophelia (Hamlet), Claudius (Hamlet), Hamlet Sr. (Hamlet), Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Hamlet), Horatio (Hamlet). Fortinbras (Hamlet)

Additional Tags: Theatre, Performance Art, Grief/Mourning, Character Study, Retelling of Hamlet, Anthony Bridgerton Loves His Family, Artist Benedict Bridgerton, Good Sibling Benedict Bridgerton, implied Hamlet/Laertes, Implied Hamlet/Horatio, but Anthony doesn't know he's playing a bisexual character

Word Count: 19,598

[theiinkwiitch]

[Tag dump... Again... Save me.]

[shmreduplication]

Ok i downloaded a full cast audio production of Hamlet to better imagine them wearing the costumes from Seussical and I am still holding p firmly to the idear that Ham was acting wholly logically at least thru not looking behind the curtain

But

This version has a lot more encouragement from the ghost that Ham should kill Claudius than the version I saw. This is unabridged and 3.5 hours long. The version I saw was 2.5 and edited to fit smoothly with R&G Are Dead, which they did in repertory, it was incredible. So it seems like they cut a lot of the ghost's lines and it's reminding me of Dream Ghosts from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. It's a song about how main characters will have revelations from talking to ghosts, often in dreams, and the ghosts say info that the protag will have already known or wanted to believe and generally it's left ambiguous if the ghost was real or not

Basically you can't be sure if the ghost is real unless it tells you factually true & verifiable information that you didn't already suspect. Hamlet thinks he can assume the ghost is real because other people see it first, and that's fair but the ghost only talks to him and says stuff he already suspected so the dialogue from the ghost doesn't pass the test. Sorry Ham, maybe go back to college and retake your ghost studies class

[justforbooks]

The career of the actor Andre Braugher, who has died of lung cancer aged 61, was benchmarked by two performances in police dramas a generation apart. In the groundbreaking drama Homicide: Life on the Street, from 1993 until 1999, he played Detective Frank Pembleton, whose drive immediately made him the anchor of an impressive ensemble cast led by Yaphet Kotto and Ned Beatty. He drew a younger audience with the comedy Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013-21) as Captain Ray Holt, who takes over a chaotic homicide squad and whose intensity again makes him the heart of the show.

Braugher’s deep, resonant voice and seemingly effortless control drew the respect of all he worked with. David Simon, creator of Homicide and The Wire, said: “I’ve worked with a lot of wonderful actors. I’ll never work with one better.” His classical training, at the Juilliard School in New York, made him a regular at the Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park, and indeed his portrayal of Henry V in 1996 won him an Obie (the off-Broadway equivalent of the Tony awards).

He brought the projection of the stage to the small screen. Pembleton was the master of “the Box”, or the interrogation room. He explained to his rookie partner in Homicide (played by Kyle Secor), it was “salesmanship … as silver tongued and thieving as ever moved used cars, Florida swamp land or Bibles. But what I am selling is a long prison sentence.” He dominated those small scenes, but the episode Subway, with Vincent D’Onofrio as a character pushed between subway trains, who will die once the trains are separated, was a two-hander whose intensity might have come from the stage of Beckett, Pinter or Mamet.

In Brooklyn Nine-Nine, as Holt, he played it straight in two senses. The adage of comedy being funniest when played straight gained resonance from Braugher’s ability to show the audience with a gesture or line-reading that he, like you, got the joke. But Holt is also gay. His gayness is never an issue, except as motivation for his progress within the police. It was as if Pembleton were stepping into Kotto’s “Gee” Giardello, a black man with an Italian father who was determined to rise in a white-dominated department.

This drive reflected Braugher’s own background. In the tough neighbourhood of Austin, on Chicago’s West Side, both his parents worked for the government; his father, Floyd, was a heavy equipment operator for the state of Illinois, and his mother, Sally, worked for the US Postal Service. He recalled he might have “pretended I was hard and tough and not square”, but he won scholarships to the Jesuit St Ignatius College prep and then to study mathematics at Stanford University, California. After walking into a student production of Hamlet, and playing Claudius, he decided he wanted to act.

Another scholarship took him to Juilliard. He graduated in 1988 and almost immediately was cast in a TV revival of Kojak, as his assistant. His first film role came in Glory (1989); he was so impressive as the educated Thomas Searles, forced to serve as a private soldier in the all-black regiment commanded by his white friend, that Hollywood came calling, but the parts were standard stereotyical roles. His father had questioned how a black actor would make a living, and Braugher later explained: “I’d rather not work than do a part I’m ashamed of.”

He played the lead in a TV movie, The Court-Martial of Jackie Robinson (1990), playing Robinson, the first African-American player in major league baseball, who earlier in the 1940s, as a US army lieutenant, had refused to ride in the back of a segregated bus; and appeared in another TV film, The Tuskegee Airmen (1995). He was an egotistical actor in Spike Lee’s Get On the Bus (1996), about the Million Man March on Washington DC the year before. In 1998 he won his first Emmy award for playing Pembleton; he was nominated 11 times, and won his second in 2006 for his role in the miniseries Thief.

After Homicide, he starred as a doctor in Gideon’s Crossing (2000-01), as a cop in Hack (2002-04), as a car dealer in the comedy-drama Men of a Certain Age (2009-11) and as the captain of a submarine which goes on the run after he refuses to obey orders to fire nuclear missiles in Last Resort (2012-13). He had another series of remarkable two-handers in a recurring role as Hugh Laurie’s psychiatrist in House, was a defense attorney in episodes of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, and voiced Governor Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz in the animated comedy BoJack Horseman.

He made the most of supporting roles in films such as Primal Fear (as Richard Gere’s investigator), Poseidon (captain of the sinking liner), Salt (as the US secretary of defense) and most notably as a New York Times editor in She Said (2022), covering the Harvey Weinstein scandal. He also starred in 10,000 Black Men Named George (2002), the story of the unionisation of Pullman railway porters, who were always called “George” by passengers.

Braugher admitted that his career “could have been larger, but it would have been at the expense of my own life”. He lived in suburban New Jersey with his wife, the actor Ami Brabson (who played Pembleton’s wife in Homicide). He said he wanted his three sons, Michael, Isaiah and John Wesley, raised in a “true context”, away from being a movie star’s offspring in Hollywood.

He is survived by his wife and sons, his brother, Charles, and his mother.

🔔 Andre Keith Braugher, actor, born 1 July 1962; died 11 December 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[daughterofhecata]

2, 3, 6 and 25 for Hugenay? (And maybe for Milo if you want (cause I'm obsessed 🙈))

[character ask game]

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Victor: On one hand, I'm admittedly a sucker for the whole gentleman thief thing, but on the other hand, I also do love the tension that comes from the original episodes vs the german episodes/translations, because uh. he *does* make people almost crash their cars on more than one occasion. And also, "no violence" or not, he's still manipulative af and I do love that.

Milo: Almost everything??? I love how kind he can be and how appreciative of people (that moment in Time Bomb where he says to Alex "I think you're worth listening to. I always thought so" lives in my heart) and how protective he gets (both of Rick, esp in Murder Book, and also of Alex - that one scene in Survival of the Fittest is A Lot). And honestly, I may have my problems with Kellerman in some regards, but I will always be grateful that he decided some time in the fucking 80's to just. write a crime novel series prominently featuring a queer cop.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Victor: I don't think have a least favourite thing? I'm probably supposed to mention the Brittany thing but, I genuinely think that was pretty fucked up but also very interesting. He can be absolutely awful and I love that.

Milo: that part in Over the Edge, idk if you remember, where he goes on a tangent about murders in the queer community/scene, that shit was uncomfortable as fuck. Also the newer books sometimes have him make weird digs at "PC culture" which. ugh.

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

Victor: Probably nothing. Nothing canonical at least. Fanon/head canon wise an interest in literature, I guess. (And a disinterest in romance, if we're reading that into his interactions with Vivienne in Mord unter Palmen xD)

Milo: Gay? 😄 Also, always make sure to tip at restaurants etc? (even if I can't afford the same level of tips) And *also* interest in literature, he did study it after all.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Victor: Well. I heard Mr Claudius say "Hugenay kann. Der ist so raffiniert, dass er es kann" when I was approximately eight years old and I've been in love with him ever since. I *am* however making an effort to acknowledge his less gentlemanly sides lately.

Milo: Genuinely do not remember my first impression, I picked up one of the later books as a teen on a whim and it initially didn't leave a bigger lasting impression than other crime novels I liked, I didn't really think deeply about it. Nowadays, Milo is absolutely one of the most important fictional characters for me, because I sincerely don't know if there is *anything* like him, a cop in a mostly mid long running crime novel series who just so happens to be gay. 90% of the time it has no bearing on the story really, he just *is* gay. And that means a lot to me.

[ilredeiladri]

I just found this attempt to the task "change an existing story by letting a character appear unexpectedly and ruin the ending" in my drafts. I'd totally forgotten that I ever wrote this but I must admit that I love it 😂

>“This is the final round, Laertes”, Hamlet growls. “Prepare to lose!”

“We will see”, Laertes retorts and raises his rapier.

“Oh, stop it, boys!” a high, very familiar voice rings out from the entrance of the throne room. Both fencers spin around to search for the speaker. As they see the girl, that is standing there soaking wet wearing a white dress and a flower crown, they gasp for air.

“I know, I know”, Ophelia sighs, “you are totally shocked to see me. But guess what? I don’t care. I’m sick to death of your childish behaviour – no pun intended. Hammy, you already killed my dad because of this lunacy, so leave my brother alone. You aren’t much of a fighter after all, are you? So better stick to your books and your little loverboy – yes, I mean you, Horatio. Please take this fool of a prince back to your studies. Whatever you do there... I don’t care. Just leave! And Laelae? Stop bitching around just because you’re frustrated by your trip to France. Guess what, people can survive getting dumped without starting a revolution. Maybe it’s time to grow up and accept that you aren’t as irresistible as you think. Other people can live with that and so will you. Just grow up, big brother! And STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! Both of you!”

As if by command Hamlet and Laertes drop their gazes to the floor. It’s hard to tell which of them looks more ashamed and embarrassed. Nobody in the room, not even the king, says a word.

“Have I made myself clear?!” Ophelia asks and the two boys that were about to kill each other a second before nod in unison.

“Good”, Ophelia smiles pleased. She steps forward and picks the rapier from Laertes’ hand. “Let me take this before someone gets hurt. Do you have anything to say before I leave?”

“I love you”, Hamlet grovels. “I’d drink Eisel for you!”

“I love you more”, Laertes hastens to affirm. “I’d drink Eisel AND eat a crocodile.”

“Oh, don’t be pathetic, you two!” Ophelia snorts rolling her eyes. Then she walks straight up to the golden goblet filled with wine that’s standing next to the king.

“Do your highness mind if I take that?” she asks and grabs the goblet without waiting for an answer. Claudius’ eyes widen as she raises the cup to her lips.

“Don’t drink that, girl! It’s poison!” he shouts in horror.

“Yeah, I should hope so”, Ophelia rejoins with a shrug. “I’m so sick of this stupid world. And after I reckoned that drowning isn’t the best way for suicide when you are an excellent swimmer, this might be a more successful attempt. Cheerio, you losers!” Nobody tries to stop her as she downs the wine in one gulp while starting to walk back towards the double door through that she had stepped in just a few moments ago. The last thing the thunderstruck people she leaves behind see is how she carelessly throws the goblet on the ground and struts out of the door, Laertes’ rapier still in hand.

Minutes tick away until someone dares to move again.

“Wow”, Hamlet whispers. “What a woman.”

“Hands off of my sister!” Laertes mumbles automatically.

“Well, if the king spoke the truth, she may be dead already” Horatio objects "So..." He tellingly arches his eyebrows. Hamlet and Laertes interchange a look before they both break into tears as if they have gotten an invisible signal. Horatio sighs.

“Well… I kind of understand her”, he mutters while patting Hamlet’s back. “You two are actually the biggest dumbheads I ever met.”<

[liviasdrusillas]

Hi! I was wondering if you hav any shows/book recommendations on Livia/her family. After watching Domina I wanted to read/watch more on them!

hi! yes, i'd be glad to give some recommendations!

in terms of shows, there aren't many out there, unfortunately. the only one i can think of is rome hbo and that only really touches on augustus' life before the fall of the republic and his side of the family so if you're interested in learning more about augustus, agrippa and octavia, that would be a good show to watch!

there's also i claudius (which is also a novel) but i really don't recommend it. it's literally just one long character assassination of livia <3

now for books, here's a few i would recommend:

livia: first lady of imperial rome by anthony barrett --> this book does a good job of not only studying livia's life but also explaining some of the takes that ancient writers had about her and some of the rumors/theories that surround different events in her life. this book is a bit old so bear that in mind when reading

dynasty: the rise and fall of the house of caesar by tom holland --> one of my favorites! it does a great job of analyzing the julio-claudians' place in history in a compelling fashion!

domina: the women who made imperial rome: guy de la bedoyere --> one of my favorites! this book goes beyond the scope of livia and her immediate female relatives but the parts discussing livia, octavia and the agrippinas were great! my only complaint is that i wish it had been longer!

The First Ladies of Rome: The Women Behind the Caesars by Annelise Freisenbruch --> Another great book similar in focus to the title above!

Roman Women: The Women Who Influenced the History of Rome by Paul Chrystal --> Okay I really dislike this book but if you want to learn more about the place of women within roman society, this would be a good read! I read it to learn more about influential women in Rome and was disappointed because I wasn't looking for that more generalistic perspective

Hope these recs help <3