#It would be interesting talking to a Roman emperor too

[anixknowsnothin]

if you could meet one historical figure who would it be and why? (the rules are you can talk but you can't change their decisions or kill them etc)

I would love to meet Anne Boleyn! She’s such an intelligent and interesting figure of history, as well as influential. Also im obsessed with Tudor times to the point where I used to spend my lockdown watching videos about Tudor life (yes im aware im a nerd)

also her story has been misrepresented or twisted by the narrator, so I wish to hear her story from her

[juletheghoul]

greedy

a/n: I cannot be stopped at this point, this man brings out the WHORE in me and I have happily accepted my fate lol. This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a constant source of love and support and for contributing so much to this world, thanks my love! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus being a total glutton for your greed over him, creampie, heavy possessive feelings from you because lets be REAL, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.4k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

His house was in order, and that was mostly thanks to you. 

Since your return to Rome, and the villa, he has been busy. Mostly, it’s been a parade of high ranking officials, members of the noble families making their pilgrimage to pay homage to the ‘Saviour of Rome’.

He despised it.

With all of the ferocity within him, he despised it. You could see it in his visage, in the clench in his jaw when they’d come to call. The way the normally confident expression in his eyes, faltered and focused on his sandaled feet. If he hadn’t been the person he was, you might have laughed. But he was, and so you didn’t. 

After a few weeks it inevitably died down, and the whole house seemed to take a deep breath, it wasn’t to last though. Just as the air seems to settle, someone comes calling, someone very important. 

“Lavinia–” She is a true beauty, of high Roman birth and the daughter to one of the most influential men in Rome, just a step below the Emperor himself. “You honour me…” He is at a loss for words as she floats into the halls of his house. His eyes find yours but you don’t need him to say a word, within a moment you’re flitting towards the other attendants, and within the span of a few breaths, his table is laid out with enough food and wine to impress even one as fine as her. 

“I have caught you unawares have I not?” She giggles and the sound is almost calculated to ensnare, the jewels at her throat and dangling from her ears glinting almost as brightly as her eyes “I am glad to see I am not vying with anyone else for your attention, I wanted you all to myself this day.” He leads her to his table, and sends everyone out of the room but you. 

“Yes, well.” He clears his throat, and already you can feel him closing up, hiding behind his mask of courtesy. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

You stand behind his chair at the ready, and watch her cast her spell on him, silently. 

“Does one such as me need a reason to visit with you General Marcus? Surely with your victory you’d have a steady parade of young, quite available women marching through your halls, fighting tooth and nail to catch your eye.” She shook out her long blonde waves, subtly, but not so subtly angling herself in the most flattering way. “You are unmarried and unattached as of yet, all of Rome knows it.” She bites her lip, appealing to him in the way beautiful women always appeal to men and it shocks you to feel the unfamiliar stab of anger in your belly. 

He grunted, noncommittally. 

“I have come to…speak of such things.” She stretched towards him like a cat, picking a grape from the platters on the table, and nibbling at it softly, her lips the colour of ripe pomegranates. “If you would care to hear them, of course.” 

He has no interest in marriage, he cares too much for his time alone, he will tell you to leave–

“I will, of course, listen to whatever you have to say, Lavinia.” If you hadn’t been as experienced with him, you would have gasped. Instead, you stood there, trying with all your might to keep the shock off your face, and the tremble out of your hands. “Wine.” He spoke the word clearly, and it pulled you out of your shocked anger behind him. With a practiced hand, you poured for him, and then moved quickly to pour for her. 

You don’t catch his eye, but you feel it on you, no doubt noting the furrow in your brow,  tracking you, as you make your way back to your place behind him. You let go of a deep, steadying breath and for a moment you could swear on all of the Gods you see him smile over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, it’s gone. 

“Let us speak of them then.” She claps her hands together happily, “My father would have come to speak to you sooner or later, but I thought it best to test the waters myself, without the scrutiny of his eye.” She leans towards him again, elbows on his table, holding her delicate face in her hands and even you have to admit, it’s masterful. The jewels on her fingers only enhance the hue of her eyes. She takes advantage of the cut of her dress, the calculated pieces of flesh she has on display, and how cunningly she uses them is something to behold. You look down at the simple tunic you wear, the uniform of your station and all at once, you feel beneath her, beneath everyone. 

“And what would your father have to say to me, I believe you are more than capable of making a case for yourself. You strike me as the sort of woman that gets what she wants.” His tone is different, he sounds almost interested and it’s a dagger through your heart. 

Steel yourself, you are nothing but a slave, no matter how many times he buries himself inside you. You are what’s available, until he finds another, equal to him. 

She giggles, tickled, but unsurprised that he seems to be responding to her charms. 

“I do get what I want, in the end.” She smiles, and it is truly lovely, “and what I want is you.” 

“Shall I fetch more wine Dominus?” You step beside him, whispering with a tremble in your voice, hoping, wishing, praying to all of the Gods that he’ll spare you from this torment. 

“No.” A soft word, and your stomach turns. You step back silently. “I am surprised you have come to me, I am sure there are armies of men ready to fight to the death for you, why am I the one you want”

“Oh come now Marcus, you have just led our army in a great victory, the streets cry out your name, the Emperor himself has thanked you for your service, you are the most desired man in all of Rome, you know this.” She brushes his question off, “I can raise you up higher still, to the very halls of the Senate, should you wish it.” 

“The Senate? And what would I do in the Senate? I am no politician, I am quite content where I am.” He smiles for her benefit, and you do your best to remain impartial, and invisible. 

Unfeeling. Unmoving.

“It is an option, should you want it.” She reiterates, “Now, what do you say of this match? What are your thoughts?” She picks more food off the plates, completely confident. 

“I will say this, you honour me greatly,” She smiles, licking at the tips of her delicate fingers, “It is a lot to consider, and I would be grateful if I could have some time to think, send you word of my final decision once I’ve had time to settle back into civilian life.” He bows his head to her and she responds in kind, seemingly pleased with his response. 

She stays longer than the others, and he entertains her to her heart's content, sharing the less violent stories from the war he’d just won and letting her have her fill of his food and hospitality, and you stand behind him. Listening to it all. Until she grows tired and tells him she must depart. 

“I look forward to hearing your answer, don’t make me wait too long.” She smiles, pressing forward and kissing his cheeks boldly. 

“It was lovely to see you, please give your father my greetings. Be safe.” 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the air in the room felt thin and for a moment, your thoughts clouded your awareness. 

“You are angry.” His voice cuts through your reverie, making you jump where you stand at his table, setting it to rights. 

“Dominus?”

“Speak plainly, girl. You are displeased with Lavinia coming here, offering herself to me.” He stares at you, his eyebrow raised from his place on his favoured chair. 

“I, I have no cause, no reason–” You stumble over your words, wringing your hands to stay obedient.

“Yes you do. She comes into this house, this house that has been your home for a long time, and asks to make it her own. She would be your Domina, and that angers you.” He speaks with a smile in his voice, his eyes shining with the novelty of your misplaced, and maybe grossly inappropriate anger. 

“I, Dominus–your will is my will, whatever you command–” He raises his hand and for a moment you see a flicker of anger. 

“Speak truthfully now, girl. I see the rage on your face. I feel it in your gaze. I will hear the truth, tell me how you feel.” He narrows his eyes for a moment, and you know he wants to hear the truth. 

“I hate it.” You let go of a deep breath, steadying yourself for the wrath of insolence but it never comes, instead, he smiles. 

“I would hear your reasons.”

“I–I would not have her come here. I would not have her marry you. I have no wish to call her Domina or have her order me away from you. I… I would keep you all to myself,” his smile widens, “Dominus.”

He gestures for you to come closer, and you do, until you stand before him. 

“Would you now?” You stand in the space between his legs, watching the way his eyes dilate to hear you speak of keeping him. 

“Yes Dominus, I would have you all to myself, I would not have her keeping your bed warm.” You seethe at the thought of it, to hear him having her, the way he has you makes your blood boil and he smiles bigger still, his eyes crinkling with the mirth of it. 

“Tell me, my fearsome girl, how greedy you are that you cannot share your Dominus with another.” His hands slide up the backs of your legs, slipping up to cup your backside while your hands land onto his shoulders. 

“I am greedy, I cannot share you Dominus, I will not.” You press yourself closer to him, your fingers threading through his graying curls. “I could not bear to hear you with her.”

“Hmm. You want my cock all for your own, is that it? Only you are fit for the gift of my seed? Tell me.” He pulls your tunic up, and off, stripping you of everything until you stand bare before him. “Only you, and this sweet little cunt, hm? Is that the way of it?” He presses kisses to your belly as he speaks and all at once the anger is gone and replaced with a hunger that only he can satisfy. 

“Yes Dominus, only me-” You pull his face up and claim his mouth, moaning into it at the feeling of his hand cupping your sex. 

“Take it then, girl, take what so clearly belongs to you, what you would keep all to yourself.” 

You waste no time in stripping him bare, relishing to see the way his cock stands at attention for you, and not for the other woman. You ache at the sight of it, the proof of your desire for him dripping onto your thighs in your haste to mount him and when you finally feel him notch his cock at the mouth of your cunt, you practically drop yourself onto it. 

He groans to feel the way you clench around him, the two of you breathing heavily into each other's faces, adjusting to the way his cock seems to kiss your womb. 

“Is this what you wanted, girl?” He bucks up underneath you, and your breasts bounce in his face, mesmerizing him enough to make him do it again. “To claim me like this? Tell me–is this cock yours? Am I yours?” He bounces you again and it’s hard to focus on anything but the fullness of him, the way you feel the pleasure of it lights up every nerve in your body. 

“Yes, yes Dominus, mine–” Your fingers grasp his hair tightly and with every flex of his hips, you roll yours, grinding the pleasure center of your universe against the coarse hairs at the base of his sex. “Your cock is mine, only mine.” he lets out a filthy moan to hear it, and your nipples harden. 

“It is yours, take it, Gods, take it all–” He cannot seem to control himself, quicker and quicker he flexes, until your arousal drenches his lap and the sounds between your legs are wet and obscene. 

“Harder please Dominus, I want it harder–” You hold onto his shoulders, rolling your hips faster and within a moment, he moves forward, placing you on the plush carpet at his feet. Once on the floor, his hips piston and the sounds of your coupling ring out through the room. 

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, your legs seizing up on his hips, and pulling a scream from your throat. He groans, feeling the way you squeeze around him, the force of your climax milking his cock dry. 

“God's girl, you have knocked the wind from me.” He breathes hard in your ear, pressing his lips to your mouth before moving his kisses down your throat, peppering them across your chest. His tongue licks at one nipple, then the other, making you flutter around him. 

A few moments pass, and although you are comforted by his weight, you don’t want to overstep. He forestalls you though. 

“Come girl, I would have this place set to rights, and retire to bed.” He pulls out with a hiss, moving up and away, “I would have you tell me of your anger, in depth, in my chambers.” He holds out his hand to help you up, and you take it with a smile. 

----

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[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

A Glimpse of Eternity ║ ⓞⓝⓔ๏ⓞⓕⓕⓢ

A Glimpse of Eternity | main masterlist | PAIRING(s): General Marcus Acacius x fem!palace sex worker

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT:  2.5k | CONTENT: legitimately saw the new Gladiator pics and immediately thought about being fisted by General Marcus idk what else to tell you lmao, some breeding kink ig?, slight subspace moments?, dirty talk but with that Ancient Roman flair, this is prob not very historically accurate but idgaf

| SYNOPSIS: You are one of Emperor Geta's comfort women, tasked with entertaining and pleasuring the palace guests, and you are assigned to General Acacius the night of a feast held in his honor.

"𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛, 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎." — 𝘈𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘶𝘴

As one of the few high ranking women of comfort in Emperor Geta’s palace, you were no stranger to the decadence and debauchery that a large celebration often brings. The battleworn and extolled military men, fresh off their wave of conquest and destruction, were most frequently the guests of honor, and they were always enthusiastic to delight in the revelry of victory, wine, and women.

Your position afforded you an agreeable life for the most part. It was certainly better than striking out on your own, fending for yourself in the notoriously unforgiving streets of Rome. An orphaned and unskilled female such as yourself would not fare well in such conditions, and you’d become quite accustomed to the social ranking that came with being owned by the Emperor himself. 

You have all the luxuries afforded to you that one could dream of in these times, and the men you host, though overeager and handsy, knew better than to mistreat the class of entertainment that Emperor Geta was kind enough to provide them. You were his property, and as such were not to be mistreated. Just as a guest would not break a priceless vase or seek entry to private areas in the palace without consent, the men knew better than to abuse the privilege of your company unless they wished to endure the wrath of the Emperor.

You had a few repeat guests that would specifically request your coupling whenever they were staying at the palace, and it was often enjoyable getting caught up on the happenings of the world outside the marble walls. Sometimes you were assigned to a specific guest, and other times you were simply asked to be present and make yourself available to any suitor who showed interest.

It wasn’t uncommon for the men to get so carried away in their merriment that they were too drunk to perform. In those cases you made sure to tend to them should they need assistance getting to bed or finding themselves sick in the middle of the night when the fatty meats and wine caught up with them. On rare occasions there were men skilled and sober enough to bring you to completion, but the standard lack of personal pleasure didn’t bother you too much. After all, it was your duty to ensure your male guests were satisfied with their stay at the palace overnight, and you had a sense of pride that you’d never garnered a single complaint.

Tonight the Emperor was hosting a celebration in honor of a top ranking General whose ruthless and unwavering prowess secured a highly sought after peninsula in the Emperor’s name. It meant more resources and labor for the Empire, and General Marcus Acacius was heralded as a hero for his efforts. You and the other women had been instructed to make your appearance after the other entertainers had performed. It wasn’t until the last minute you were informed that you had been assigned to the General and were to “see to his every need and wish” during his stay.

You’d been doing this long enough that you were only mildly flustered with the news, but you were level headed by the time you made it to the grand hall. You were aware of his reputation, and his strong features fit rather well with what you knew of him. A proud nose, broad shoulders, downturned mouth with pensive forehead wrinkles. His hands easily grasped the entirety of his goblet. He was handsome and possessed an authoritative presence that you suspected would carry over to the bedchambers. 

“General Acacius, might I join you this evening?” you greet warmly.

His eyes slide over to you, giving your form an assessing gaze, before nodding and gesturing to the empty seat beside him. You thank him for the invitation and hold yourself as tall as you can next to him. His size is even more impressive side by side. You introduce yourself and comment on how well he looks considering he’d just arrived from his travels early this morning. No doubt the handmaidens had bathed and clothed him upon his arrival. He’s not much for conversation, so you follow his lead and quietly watch the partygoers together.

You offer to refill his drink, but he declines. He isn’t gluttonous or vain or rude, and as the festivities begin to wind down, you begin to wonder what this man’s vice was. It was imperative to understand these sorts of things because it dictated how you performed to ensure satisfaction. With little to go on, you were almost worried he didn’t want your company at all for the remainder of the evening. It was a relief when he informed you he was retiring for the night and extended an invitation to join him. You demurely accepted and walked quietly through the stone passageways that lead to the more opulent chambers where only the most highly regarded guests were permitted to stay.

“Have you had your fill of nourishment this evening?” he inquires.

“Yes, General. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. After you help me disrobe, I request that you do the same and return to me once you are ready.”

You help him out of his garments and try not to stare at the constellation of scarring that adorns his body. His form is muscular with some usual signs of age, but he is undoubtedly the most divine looking man you have ever entertained. His cock swings softly between his thick thighs, and he has no reaction when he catches you ogling him. You excuse yourself to the corner of the chambers to disrobe and freshen up before presenting your nude form for his examination. His eyes are half-lidded, but otherwise you can’t much tell a difference in his mood.

“What sort of pleasure do you offer to your companions, Little Dove?”

You smile brightly at the moniker, appreciating its reference to your attire decorated with small white birds. It wasn’t often a man would take note of such detail, let alone bestow you a personal endearment based on it.

“I offer whatever sort of pleasures you wish, General.”

“And what sort of pleasures do you wish, Little Dove?”

The question catches you off guard, but you maintain the easy back and forth as best you can. “I am sure whatever you have in mind will be immensely pleasurable, General,” you assure him as you slowly saunter towards him.

“That is not what I asked. Answer a question when I ask it of you.” His face is not unkind, but his words are firm.

“I– It is not something that often crosses my mind,” you admit. “My pleasure is gained from your satisfaction.”

“And what if I demand your pleasure above all else? What then would you have to say?”

You rack your brain for an answer and end up blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“It is… rather enjoyable to lay in each other’s company, is it not? Perhaps we could start there?” you suggest.

“Is that what you desire?” he presses. He stands, and your eyes zip to all the sinewy, strong flexing across his body.

“It is.”

“Then that is where we will begin.”

This is unlike any encounter you’ve had, and you are nearly at a loss for how to conduct yourself. After exploring the planes of his warm body for a few minutes and gladly receiving the same, your mind goes on autopilot. You attempt to initiate intimacy, but he rebuffs the mindless advance.

“I am well aware I can have you, but that is not what I seek,” he states plainly.

You shake your head, not fully understanding his meaning.

“It is not enough that I take your body. True capture means the mind must also be won. I ask for your entire being, Little Dove,” he explains matter of factly.

You’ve never had a partner speak to you this way, and you can feel the effect of it between your legs where wetness gathers. “Of course, General. Anything you wish you shall have.”

“We will see. Your surrender cannot be fabricated. The blood of the men I’ve killed that stains my hands and the sieged settlements I leave in my wake have left me with the ability to recognize genuine submission, and that is what I ask of you: full, true surrender.”

“I will do my best,” you promise.

“It is not a matter of effort. It is a matter of truly desiring to yield.”

“I feel the strings of that desire, General,” you say in a soft hush. As though to prove your point, you guide his hand between your legs and sigh at the rough, calloused fingertips that graze your most sensitive parts.

He finally seems content with your frame of mind and corresponding bodily reaction, and it is how you find yourself happily succumbing to every exploratory lick and caress and bite. Your thoughts are a nebulous oasis, gently washing back and forth as your bliss heightens. The candlelight is waning just as he presents you with what you think might have been his desire from the start.

“Do you give yourself to me, Little Dove? I wish to feel you from the inside. Your body craves my fingers. It pulls them inside hungrily no matter how many I give. You have taken four already with such greed.”

While it was true that your body steadily adjusted to his fingers, his hands were large and not the easiest to take. He was well-endowed, and that would’ve been plenty to handle on its own. You were certain that he would want to fuck you after this was done. The growing circumference of his fingers inside you had you worrying whether or not you could tolerate it. But you wanted to try. It felt good despite the initial pinching and tightness. His groans of approval every time you successfully took more only spurred you on. You felt yourself wanting to give everything over to him.

“Give me what I need. Only you know what I need,” you whimper.

He sucks in a sharp breath at your deference and repositions himself with additional vigor than just a few moments prior. Your back feels like it’s melted into the bedding as he props your legs open and situates himself in front of your entrance. You watch with bated breath as he cinches all of his fingers together and begins to steadily plunge them inside your messy opening, drenched in your arousal from the General’s relentless onslaught. 

“It is my intention to learn every want of your body so that I might break you apart piece by piece. Do you understand that, Little Dove?” he asks. 

He pushes his fingers further until you feel the sharp rounding of his knuckles against your pelvic bone. You gasp at the resistance and frantically scramble for something to ground yourself, finding his other hand already waiting for your use. You grasp it with both of yours and let him feed his middle and pointer fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckle on them and close your eyes.

“There you are,” he breathes. “Feeding from nearly every hole, Little Dove. Your body already knows what your mind has decided. Your body responds to me and only me. It craves me as its master.”

You dumbly nod and suck harder on his fingers, getting lost in the sensation of them pressing onto your tongue and gathering a pool of saliva in the middle of your mouth.

“You will only know the desire and pleasure that is my hand piecing you back together,” he coos.

His knuckles begin to slide past your opening and sink into you. The burning lasts for several minutes, but you give in to the new and intoxicating feeling coursing in your body. Eventually the rest of his hand slides in without protest. It’s an odd shape to have housed inside you, but you focus on sucking his fingers. Blood rushes to your stretched walls and engorges the tissue, making everything feel warm and hypersensitive. You feel his hand make a fist inside you, and you cry out when he begins slowly pumping it in and out.

“Ssshhh sshhhh, let your body do what your mind has decreed,” he soothes.

You whimper and suckle as he fucks you with his fist. He groans as he watches your gaped hole suck him back in over and over. You feel a tight coil in your belly build, and he must sense it, too, because he props himself up straighter again and hums contentedly.

“You are an exceptional creature, Little Dove. Reaching the greatest pleasures by letting yourself be my little fuck hole, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you cry. “I’m your fuck hole. Only yours.”

His pace picks up like he’s become a bit crazed at your rambling submission.

“That’s right, Little Dove,” he grits. “You will see my face, imagine my touch, and dream of my domination in every man you lay with from this day onward.”

Your jaw and body are slack as the power of his drives rocks you back and forth. You don’t have the lucidity to warn him that your climax is quickly approaching.

“I will not be content until you are ruined for any other man,” he snarls.

You swear you can feel every crevice and curve and bend of his fist as you clench down on it. Your vision is a flat white that matches the deafening silence that overcomes you as your orgasm tears through you. It’s a mixture of the most painful and the most pleasurable orgasm you’ve ever experienced, and well after it ebbs your legs continue to shake with the force of it.

You barely register your limbs being moved and adjusted. You regain a bit of clarity when you feel his wide cockhead notch at your wrecked hole and plunge inside in one smooth motion. He lets out a ragged moan, and it sends you right back into that foggy euphoria. He thrusts fast and deep, murmuring platitudes and filthiness into the shell of your ear as he chases his high.

His hands grip the meat of your sides so tight you’re sure there’ll be marks by morning. A firm grip on your jaw shakes you from your blissful floating.

“Look into the eye of the man who conquered you,” he hisses. “Look into my eyes while I fill you.”

With great effort you keep your lids parted and take in the glorious sight of his face twisting and contorting as he begins pulsing inside the pitches of your cunt. Every thrust pushes some of his spend out, and for a fleeting moment you wish you could keep every drop inside you. With one final snap of his hips, he finishes and sags into your body below him. His breath is hot and humid on your neck, heartbeat hammering against your chest, and you wrap your legs and arms around him as though you fear his departure.

“I must stay inside, Little Dove. Plug you with my seed. Fuck you ‘til it takes,” he rambles a little breathlessly.

You smile against his neck and welcome the surrender.

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

Strap in if you dare, I’m going to talk about Riko.

Yes, he is a Bad Person. Nothing I’m about to say counters that. However… evil isn’t always so obvious as to dress in black and torture everyone you love. Evil is insidious and nuanced - it can creep in when you aren’t expecting it and have no defences. We’ve been given this incredibly complex and interesting example of it, and we’ve been given it for a reason. Riko is a character worth trying to understand.

Could Riko ever have been saved, and if so what would it have taken? What if he’d been able to follow the Fox path to redemption instead of the Ravens to perdition?

Except both Foxes AND Ravens were traumatised… the thing that ruined Riko was power. Lincoln said it: “nearly all men can stand adversity but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.” Who was Riko without power? It’s hard to see.

So I’m fascinated by a different question - how did Riko see Riko?

We know how the Foxes saw him: a low-functioning sociopath with zero coping skills and the personality of a cat trapped in a wall cavity. Presumably that’s not how he saw himself. What kind of headcannon did he construct for himself, what was his own personal mythology?

We know he wanted his father’s approval, he wanted to be number one. We know how badly he dealt with those desires being thwarted.

I know how it feels to be an abandoned child. You feel like the outer edges of a person, with this gaping hole in the centre. It’s not just that you lost a loved one, it’s - how can I say it - it’s like the clasp that lets you hold on to people has been torn out too. Everyone will leave now, and you know it.

(I didn’t cope by turning my bedroom into Abu Ghraib, though.)

It’s the worst of both worlds. His father is far enough away to cause that gaping wound, yet not sufficiently gone for it to ever close over and heal.

But… despite his impossible situation, Riko wasn’t withdrawing into himself. Resentment ate away at him and he liked doing side-projects of revenge, but it was hope driving him on. I see Riko as someone with a very hot flame in them, someone determined to succeed (like Neil). He was driven, even if the goal he chased so eagerly was an illusion. I think he saw his situation as a challenge, an opportunity to prove himself and eventually take his rightful place at his father’s side (surely that’s what Kengo really meant, surely this was a test, a test he can pass if he just wins one more time...)

Imagine something like… the second son of a Roman emperor, sent to some far-off outpost to get him out of the way subdue rebel tribes. A chance to make a name for himself, an opportunity to create an elite unit where violence and skill are everything, where winning is everything. A challenge he accepts with savage excitement.

And the world views them with the kind of awe once reserved for ancient Sparta. Unsurpassed warriors, impossibly focussed. Yes, they endure conditions no one else could even consider but they always win, and everyone loves winners. They are the legends of legends. Surely his father will see.

Kevin was his Lancelot, his shining sword, his right hand. Kevin added to Riko’s status, assured him he must be a hero if he had such a splendid champion at his side.

But Kevin is beautiful, so perhaps Riko’s feelings were more complicated than that, perhaps they were feelings he couldn’t admit he had. He could still work those feelings into the overall picture though… it’s all part of Kevin being his beloved champion.

Until the champion started edging him out of his own story and had to be sacrificed. A necessary sacrifice, but losing Kevin struck a huge blow to the mythology Riko built up about himself. He could no longer look in the mirror, side by side, and see Kevin’s glory (and, yes, Kevin’s dad) reflected back as though it belonged to him too.

Despite this Riko finds a way to keep winning, even without his champion. Surely that is even more impressive? Can his father see that?

Still no response. In the story Riko constructs for himself his father does no wrong, so this towering rage he feels has to crash down on someone else. He tells himself he is punishing his troops for daring to be unworthy.

Then there is Jean, someone from a caste so low as to be unclean, even subnormal, someone it would hurt Riko’s prestige to treat with any kind of respect. But Jean is also beautiful, and those feelings can’t be worked into the myth. Their outlet is the darkness behind closed doors, along with all the other feelings that don’t fit the story of the hero.

Harming his people, his intimate possessions, was Riko’s coping mechanism for rejection and humiliation the way self-harm in many forms is to many others. (Are you hearing me if I say hurting yourself is hurting your own Perfect Court, and there is collateral damage even if you think it’s just you, because people love you and suffer because of it? Are you hearing me if I say stop being Riko to yourself?)

And maybe his enjoyment of that cruelty was, deep down, a form of denial that the cruelty arose from anguish. ‘No I’m not upset, I’m not a loser, I’m in control, I’m doing this because I like it…’ Maybe even to the point where rendition becomes sexual.

But it’s starting to unravel. He’s lost his only friend and can no longer unleash his mounting frustrations on Jean the way he wants to; he’s running out of pieces for his board.

Then he finds the fugitive his family were chasing for so long. This is his big chance. He’ll have a brand new champion for his stable or a valuable offering to please his father, he wins either way.

He captures this feral child who tells him there is no empty throne waiting by the side of the emperor, Kengo never mentions his son’s name, Riko is nothing more than a joke in that far-off capital. So much scorn in those words that the carefully constructed mythology withers before it.

First the would-be rook took the queen, then the wild-card knight escapes again, and now the whipping boy / concubine / bishop is taken by a girl with a cross around her neck. The king has lost all his men… because that’s your REAL story, isn’t it: everyone leaves you.

And then… Kengo dies.

Yes, Riko is a Bad Person. No, I do not like him. But Nora gave us two boys who met their brother for the first time, two boys who cried out their brother’s name only to see their hopes shattered. And in that moment they were one, so I cannot dismiss this monstrous, horrible abomination no matter how hard I try.

I can however dismiss anyone who says Nora is not a goddess of writing.

[omegastation]

I like that the way we view storylines and characters change as we grow and experience new things in life. A good example is Samara explaining why someone might join the Justicars, even if it looks like a miserable time : "Sometimes the most brutal path is the only honest one." When I was first playing the game, I understood the words but I didn't fully get the meaning. Now I do get it. I know exactly what she means.

But it doesn't have to be a big thing. It can be about hobbies. Years ago, I didn't care that much that Turians were inspired by Romans and the Roman empire. Now I'm in a rabbit hole of Roman Empire books because I read Mary Beard's Emperor of Rome on holidays so I care now and want to compare. Obviously, it doesn't mean I understand things better (reading books is not going to make me a specialist for sure…), I'm talking about level of interest. I get excited and want to find tiny bits of information that might be useful to my understanding of the turians.

What else? Languages and in general words people use interest me a lot more than they used to. So I desperately want an expert to analyze the hell out of the common language/writing we see everywhere in the games. And I try to pay more attention to the words Legion uses, because that right there is a fascinating case to analyze.

Characters in power also mean different things to me now. When I first played, Hackett was that kind of old man you reported to. Now I'm fascinated by him and always happy when he is on screen. He's honestly like the rock star of my playthrough, I'm not even kidding. Even someone like Primarch Victus. Of course I sympathized with him before, but I'm more interested in his storyline now because my current reading list has a lot to do with resistance fighters or people who have to become leaders during difficult times.

And by the way, I like that how we change goes for how we view fandom too. I was always so sensitive, so prone to get upset, so ready to make a post about this or that. And yesterday I saw a post with character hate and I immediately blocked the user and just kept on checking the tag. Later I was like "Oh wait. It could have been as simple as that the entire time?". You grow older and you just want to protect your peace.

Anyway if you have a different view of storylines/characters/fandom as you change and grow or get new hobbies, I would love to read about it. It's nothing new or special, but it is a cool thing that our perspective can evolve.

[here4tripitaka]

Chapter 58: Wukong chooses good over evil. By killing somebody.

Well, this chapter explained a lot. I’m finally up to speed with you all - the Six-Eared Macaque was Wukong’s alter ego. Now that I know, I’m seeing the last few chapters differently. So I want to circle back to this from last chapter:

Look, we’ve all had bad experiences with team work. I’m sure we’ve all had times when we’ve wanted to spit the dummy and just do the whole thing ourselves. So we can take all the credit, which we totally deserve… maybe. But apparently that is not the solution.

It is interesting that the macaque is killed, not just subdued. Not only is it killed, the entire species is permanently eradicated:

That is, Wukong’s decision to commit to ‘good’ is permanent; even irreversible. That is a deep level of commitment. It’s very different from the idea of having to fight temptation constantly - having to re-commit to choosing good every day, many times each day.

In other words, I was thinking this:

Whereas Wukong was thinking this:

I guess he’s got a point. If you’re ever going to reach true enlightenment, I guess you’ve got to quit your earthly bullshit once and for all.

So I guess it’s kind of like this:

And then you’re Gryffindor forever, no further effort required to stay away from the dark side. HOORAY! Except I think Wukong would be more like:

Interestingly, Tathagata’s description of the Six-Eared Macaque doesn’t make him sound inherently evil:

The footnote is cool:

Brave’s AI had a wildly different take on that saying:

I mean, Yu would know better than random AI, obviously. But the AI answer did make me curious. Alas, the search results seemed to have nothing to do with it.

Anyway, Wukong’s lack of sentimentality in killing the macaque is interesting. So is his reproach to Tathagata when Tathagata seems horrified:

Perhaps Wukong is right: perhaps bad traits within oneself should be squelched unflinchingly, without a backward glance. Perhaps compassion is an inappropriate reaction there, just as Tripitaka’s “compassion” is misplaced a lot of the time.

Still, I’m surprised that nobody punishes him or says he’s out of line for telling Tathagata of all beings what to do. Seems pretty cheeky.

The conflict between Wukong and Tripitaka is resolved by Tathagata and Guanyin telling Wukong and Tripitaka to pull their heads in. Tripitaka obeys without hesitation. I kind of love this about him.

Tripitaka and Wukong really are opposites in this way. Wukong is all backtalk, defiance and autonomy. Tripitaka is obedience and reverent submission personified.

Anyway, this results in everyone being best buds again:

Because no one needs to actually talk through their differences or resolve their feelings about, you know, whether it’s okay to murder people or not. They just need to be told by their superiors to get over it.

And now, in no particular order, honourable mentions from this week:

I loved the bureaucratic hand-writing at the Mountain of Perpetual Shade. “I’m not sure how to deal with this. Let me call my manager. Let me call ALL the managers!”

That moment where you want to be nice to your guests, cos they seem really fancy. But you also want them to leave before they smash up the furniture:

Flower showers!

These were referenced in in chapter 52, too:

I wish I knew what Yu was talking about. Even my best googling returns nothing. But it sure does sound pretty!

Last up, it just sank in that Guanyin has a cockatoo:

TIL cockatoos are not just Australian. And that Indonesian white cockatoos look much more regal than their Australian sulphur-crested cousins. 

Apparently:

They were quite popular in China during the Tang dynasty, a fact which in turn influenced the depictions of Guan Yin with a white parrot. The Fourth Crusade was also sealed between Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II and the Sultan of Babylon in 1229 with a gift of a white cockatoo.

Speaking of all things nature, did anyone notice that the macaque turned into a bee when it tried to escape? Alas, the macaque’s bee clearly wasn’t as impressive as Wukong’s bee transformation at the Scorpion Demon’s lair, because the macaque’s bee doesn’t get any poetry. Let’s honour it with this picture instead.

RIP, Evil Wukong!

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

---

Image credits: The usual spiel. The images above are either AI, or random pictures from the web, or a Frankenstein of both; some modified, some not. They are not original. The pre-existing images should turn up with reverse googling or have links embedded, but feel free to ask and I’ll dig up sources.

[findingrome1]

Peace be with you all friends, happy All Hallows Eve to you!! This will be a somewhat lengthy post because I think I have some ideas worth sharing.

So for those of you who don't know All Hallow's Eve is the day before all saints day. The day when the Church remembers her saints. The Catholic and Orthodox churches alongside high church protestants observe the day as to keep alive the memory of those who gave their lives to the faith, either working tirelessly to spread the Gospel, help us to understand the nature of God better, or literally gave their lives in witness for the Gospel.

A few saints outside of the Bible I think are worth sharing.

Saint Athanasius- 5x exiled for defending the divinity of Christ and kept fighting heresy.

Saint Anslem- Theologian who made the ontological argument of God.

Saint Patrick- Herald of God's kingdom to Ireland.

Saint Maximilian Kolbe- Took the place of a married Jewish man destined to be killed in WW2 at the cost of his life.

Saint Justin Martyr- Early Church Father who recklessly defended the Christain faith, to the point of writing letters to the Roman Emperor to debunk rumors. This cost him his life.

Sadly (at least to me) this day marks the anniversary of when Dr. Martin Luther nailed the 95 theses, which contained 95 points of protest against the perceived and real problems occurring within the Roman Catholic church. Ofc the indulgences scheme to build Saint Peter's Basicillia comes to mind yet there was plenty of clerical and liturgical abuses, inconsistentcy in training for the priesthood going on too. I am not going to talk about why I think the Catholic position is more correct. Plenty of smart people have done this before me. What I will offer are a few ideas to foster deeper unity.

Working in common interest- while having deep differences Catholics, Orthodox and Lutherans share a common foundation and values. For example Christian orthodoxy (just right belief, not the churches) rejects aborti0n. Think about how much more of a statement it would be if Catholics and Protestants if instead of holding separate marches were one big march at state capitals?

Learning from one another- As Thomas Aquinas said "All truth, is God's truth". While I don't believe God intended his beloved Church to fracture this to me seems very human. God works with human errors as he did with Israel when they fractured, God's grace and power works through all who strive to know him. While I am Catholic I still consume non-Catholic Christian media. For example on Youtube the Lutheran Pastor Jordan B. Cooper, makes videos about the Lutheran confession explaining it. These videos help inform me so I don't strawman Lutherans and I better understand the Catholic faith by seeing the differences. Furthermore he makes other videos especially on etiquette which is informative.

Talk to each other- similar to my first point, but different enough to be worth mentioning. If we talk to each other, it will do so much good. When we talk to each other it will break down prejudices and enlighten both parties quickly. We will see each other as more than souls 'on the wrong side' but friends who we value and care to learn more about.

I hope this post gives some helpful thoughts. May the love of Jesus Christ that surpasses all understanding br with you all.

[galraluver]

What kind of people/culture from our planet you can associate galra with?

Here on tumblr some people draw parallels with romans, mostly because of imperial traits. Also I’ve once met an opinion where garla may be similar to nomads (I don’t really remember who but they talked about galra who in contrast to alteans might not be disgusted by milk because Daibazaal is mostly dessert so they could use milk of other animals too for some surviving purposes like nomads)

I personally can associate galras’ loyalty to empire at it’s worst as our radical fans of the ottoman or russian emire (no politics srry it’s just my observation and I can be wrong)

Anyway I’m interested in your opinion ^^

I've definitely noticed those traits in galra society and I can't help but wonder if the creators of VLD added a mixture of those traits to make things more interesting. It would be interesting to see what kinds of animals lived on Daibazaal and if the galra kept any as livestock or even draik milk of some kind or anything; I don't think they had cat-like creatures though because Zarkon's first reaction to Kova suggested that. I can imagine that some galra in the briefly mentioned colonies on certain desert planets kind of have their own culture and traditions since they're far away from central command, something similar to what one might find in South Africa (minus the discrimination against women and lgbtq+ individuals and/or couples). There's definitely some (a lot) of toxic loyalty going on within the empire, especially after Zarkon turned evil. I also find the way the empire chose a new emperor/empress to be interesting; they can have an heir, but that heir still has to compete in the Kral Zera in order to become the next in line if said heir lights the flame, and if not then someone else becomes the next leader. One thing I like is that, in galra society, they're more accepting towards lgbtq+ individuals and couples (as far as I'm aware, but I could possibly be wrong), women can compete in the Kral Zera and galra women never had to fight for their rights.

[gemsofgreece]

I know we often talk about all the regions of Greece plus the Islands, but what about Thessaly region? It's so underrated even though it has Olympus, meteora, beautiful places, forests to go. Not only that but wasn't part of king Aiolou in the Odyssey?

This region in my opinion is not talked enough about it's culture and history i am sure even from ancient times it has given a lot to Greek history.

Yay let's give some love to Thessaly! I share your feelings. I like this region a lot. So let's make a post with cool facts about Thessaly.

But before that I would like to comment on why Thessaly appears to be overlooked. I think the reason is that Thessaly is in between two regions that have attracted so much the interest of historians. It is sandwiched between Argos, meaning all of south Greece with Athens and Sparta and all the load of city states, and Macedonia. It gets more or less the same treatment with Epirus. Furthermore, Thessaly's biggest power is also its weakness. Thessaly is what is considered the "breadbasket" of the nation. An essentially provincial agricultural area, vast as nowhere else in Greece, it did not intrigue as much as the other regions with their drama, polities, conquests or artistic and scientific achievements.

Cool facts about Thessaly:

Despite its later obscurity with historians, exactly because of its vast fertile land, Thessaly had some of the earliest advanced settlements in Europe during the Neolithic period, such as Sesklo (6800 BC) and Dimini (4800 BC).

In the Mycenaean Age, Thessaly was known as Aeolia. The dialect spoken was Aeolic Greek. The Homeric epics are written in a mix of Ionic and Aeolic Greek. Aeolic Greek was considered the ideal dialect for poetry and lyricism. Poets and Rhapsodoi would travel to Thessaly to find inspiration.

Thessaly has paramount significance for the Greek mythology. Mount Olympus is located where Thessaly and Macedonia meet, so this is where the Gods lived. Achilles was born and reigned in Thessaly (his kingdom encompassed Phthia and extended beyond the Thessalian borders into Hellas, the westernmost meeting point of Thessaly, Epirus and Central Greece). Centaur Chiron raised many heroes in Mount Pelion, which is the origin place of centaurs. Jason and the Argonauts embarked for their journey from the city of Iolcos (now Volos). And loads more myths are associated with Thessaly.

Thessaly was somewhere between the world of the southern city states and the Kingdom of Macedon. It was usually a kingdom too or dismantled in a few smaller kingdoms ruled by the tagoi, aristocratic warlords. During the early classical period, Thessaly started being influenced by democracy however after observing the rise of Macedon, the Thessalians essentially invited King Philip to incorporate the region into his sphere of influence and Thessaly returned into having one single powerful king.

It is kinda evident that the Thessalians just wanted to live their lives and were absorbed with their own matters, trying to stay away from most drama. That lack of drama earns them their obscurity. Of course there were microdramas between nobility and kingdoms and all that but honestly nothing in comparison to the southern mayhems or the excessive northern ambition. Despite their low profile, Thessalians were wanted in other Greek armies for their cavalry.

During Roman and Byzantine times, the region was constantly targeted by invaders including Slavs, Avars, Huns etc due to its fertile land. This made the Byzantine emperors often remove or transfer away foreign populations from the area and have Greeks from other regions to settle in, to reinforce the Greek element of the region.

Much like in all other eras of its history, Thessaly was somewhere in the middle during the stages of the Greek Independence from the Ottoman Empire. It was incorporated to Greece after Peloponnese and Roumeli (Sterea Hellas) but before Epirus, Macedonia and Thrace.

Thessaly is a diverse land. It has a core of extended farmland dotted with hills and mountains as well as rivers and lakes, surrounded by a ring of big mountain ranges. At its west it expands to the Pindus mountains and their woodlands, at its north lies Mount Olympus and its east finds the Aegean sea and boosts a remarkable coastline. It also has three major islands, generally considered some of the most densely forested in the country and with beaches often featured in Top lists across the world. Sightings of seals and dolphins are common near its coasts.

Due to its geomorphology, the Thessalian plain gets some of the hottest temperatures in the summer and some of the coldest in the winter.

Thessaly is home to the most significant natural wonder of Greece. The rocks of Meteora. Meteora is a group of massive rock formations dating to the Paleogene era when this area was still part of the seabed, before the sea was pushed upwards and away. Meteora have been inhabited by monks ever since the middle Byzantine period. It has 20 Byzantine and post-Byzantine monasteries, out of which six are still in service. Aside from a natural wonder, the region is also a UNESCO world heritage monument.

After the independence, the region prospered due to being the largest farmland in Greece as well as having the third largest port in the country. It is the third most populous region after Sterea Hellas (which has Athens) and the large Macedonia (which has Thessaloniki). As a result, Thessaly is the only region in Greece with two major cities of about the same population, Larissa and Volos, the 5th and 6th largest cities of the country respectively, in close proximity. Larissa boasts an ancient past associated to Achilles and is the metropolis of agricultural and industrial Greece, all while buzzing with nightlife and a lot of student life. The also mythologically rich Volos is the Thessalian port, ensured with prosperity even during the hardship of Ottoman times, and is very notable among Greeks and those few foreigners who know for being surrounded from all sides by beautiful scenery, including very forested mountains, hills, extended shorelines, peninsulas, islands and numerous beautiful villages which combine tradition with a cosmopolitan flair.

The rest of the region is decorated by the rare outstanding mountainous beauty of Trikala, which also encompasses Meteora, and is one of the towns in Greece more focused on improving the quality of life for its citizens, often becoming a point of reference for other places. Karditsa with its traditional feel completes the quartet, offering access to the beautiful Lake Plastira and Agrafa mountains, some of the most unexplored and undisturbed, both naturally and culturally, regions of Greece.

And now some photos from Thessaly under the cut. Enjoy!

Various regions of Larissa

Various regions of Magnesia (Volos)

Various regions in Trikala

Various regions in Karditsa

Various regions from Sporades islands

All photos chosen randomly in Google search just to give you an idea. I do not own any of these.

Hopefully you enjoyed this tribute Anon!

Also, to anyone wondering "wasn't this supposed to be a farmland?", well yeah, it is by Greek standards. The farmland is indeed very big, it's just that if I showed many photos from the plain I would be running short of mountains and coasts. And also, Greeks typically don't take photos of their plains as often so I'd had to make a more strenuous search.

[adelemadouce]

In a thousand Years

The Emperor was always a handsome man in appearance. He considered nakedness to be the most natural state (as a reminder of his admiration for Rousseau in his youth) and found it refreshing to be without clothes. He was attractive, even delicious, with his well-groomed, slim body, of which he was very proud of. And rightly so!

I was not a beauty when making love. My long limbs were simply impossible to control when I was in ecstasy. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, feet in the air, that was not a lovely look of a twenty-two-year-old! The Emperor, however, loved it. And nothing else mattered to me. Églée once explained to us that a beloved woman in bed is considered by her husband first as a whore and then as a saint. "Before he has you where he wants you, you are just a willing whore to him. But the moment he shoots his powder into you, you are an adorable saint to him!" Well, for the Emperor I was never a whore (I was his juicy peach!) but it actually happened that at the height of his pleasure he exclaimed: "...my sweet Adèle...I will make you a queen!...do you like that...a queen? Do you want that...I'll do it! I'll make you a queen!" When he was able to think clearly again, I gave him a mischievous smile. "What do you want to make of me, Sire?" But he didn't smile. "Exactly what I said!" There was no other person in the world who was capable of doing such a thing - making me a queen! But I had no ambition for a crown and I wanted him to know this. I caressed his lips with my finger. "Sire, I only want to stay your sweet Adèle!" We were lying naked in bed. The Emperor rested his head on his elbow and looked at me. "Don't you want to go down in the history books, Adèle? You are my love-interest...someday someone will know what we both did." I watched him as he tongued my right thimble. I thought that I had never seen a more beautiful Roman head than his. "I don't want to go down in the history books, Sire...and no one should ever find out about what happened between us. These moments belong to just the two of us!" He looked up at me from under his eyebrows. "You don't want people to talk about you in a thousand years? No?...maybe your modesty is a better philosophy of life! But not for me, that view comes too late. And I fear that everyone who crossed my path will find themselves in a history book, even those who don't deserve it!" He sucked my thimble again and while he was looking at me, he then said in a soft, dark voice: "...you are one of those who deserve it, Adèle... you give me something that no other woman has ever given me!" Oh, gloria, my heart rejoiced! It was the most beautiful thing he could have said to me! "My love for you has chosen me, Sire, to be incomparable! It's more than I ever wished for..." He bent his head towards my face, the tips of our tongues touching. "And I believe what you say, Adèle. You are honest, genuine, I love your naturalness... you don't have this need to please. The Empress is completely different...that's how she's always been. She wants to please me, at any cost! She is graceful... in bed, on the throne...she is always like a work of art. You, Adèle, are the most wonderful opposite of her, you are wild, passionately and...fidgety...in bed! You are honest, natural and still a little clumsy in love...ahhh, that really excites me! I'll teach you, ma douce,...and I'll be tough on you, you can be sure of that!" How did he know that I wanted this so much!!! He pinched my thimble and I squealed.

It was the first time that the Emperor opened up to me. He never spoke about his private life. When we talked, it was only about trivial things, or about me. Now he spoke for the first time about Joséphine and his marriage. "I think every day how wonderful it would be to have a child with the Empress. But she is forty-one now...I fear she can no longer have children." He paused, as if listening to himself. "Joséphine thinks it is my fault, but that is how true...I have already fathered a child!" What I heard was completely unexpected! He continued. "Four years ago I met a young countess in Italy...a beautiful girl. She had seen me on the first Italian campaign and had fallen madly in love with me. When we met again during the second campaign in Milan I took her into my bed and nine months later she gave birth to a girl, Faustina. My mother has seen the child, there is no doubt that it is mine!" It sounded sad, although it offered him such hopeful prospects. "And if you adopt the girl and marry her to a prince, Sire?" But the Emperor shook his head. "In my position that is not possible. For a dynasty, I need a legitimately conceived child, not a bastard! It may sound cruel, but that is how our world is." He looked at me sternly. "Adèle, where were you ten years ago? Why didn't you come into my life then?" Now he was digging into my past too. "Oh Sire, I was twelve then! What could you have done with me? I was not yet ready...for that." My hand was on his belly button and threatened to wander lower. "... but don't you know that a short time later I was already in your bed?" He tried not to show anything. "How can that be?" he asked. "When I was fourteen and came to Paris, Aunt Joséphine took me in...you know, rue Chantereine! You had just left for Italy. The first night I was allowed to sleep in Joséphine's bed, it was still warm...from General Bonaparte!" My hand wandered a lower. "Your little ass was already in my bed back then?" I pulled my hand away and grinned. "You naughty little beast!" the Emperor shouted laughing.

The art objects I had purchased had to arrived at the Allée des Veuves. Paintings of Scottish, Irish and Corsican landscapes. Beautiful vases, a tiger skin from India, Greek busts, of course also the great Macedonian! And all sorts of knick-knacks that we women like. But what made me most happy was the delivery of the little dancer figurine, my New Year's gift for the Emperor.

One afternoon, a few hours before the Emperor's arrival in the Allée des Veuves, the Grand Marshal picked me up in his black fiacre. Duroc wanted to take me to see the new furnishings in the house. I was happy to see him. "Well, Adèle...how do you like the house? Is everything to your satisfaction? Are there any suggestions for improvement?" I shook my head. "Oh Duroc, it's magical! I am deeply grateful, and so is the Emperor! I have some ideas though..." I thought of something else that I really liked. "Tell me what it is!" I took Duroc's hand and pulled him into a small salon that was not furnished. There was only a couch in it. "I would like to furnish an oriental room for the Emperor. Do you think he would like that?" Duroc had to smile. "You mean...a kind of harem?" Then he sighed. "The Emperor is familiar with Oriental customs, he has already been in a real harem when he was in Egypt. A copy of any kind of harem would perhaps be considered tasteless." Then Duroc looked straight at me. "Why don't you set up a small library for the Emperor? He would be very happy about it!" How glad I was to have Duroc. He knew the Emperor like no other! "Yes, a small library of Alexandria!" Duroc nodded. "With an oriental flair!" We got along just wonderfully. When we were back in the large salon, I poured Duroc a cognac. "There is something I need advice on, Duroc. Can I confide in you?" He took a small sip. "That's what I'm here for, Madame!" I sat down next to him. "It's about the Empress. She's trying to sound me out...wants to know if I'm in love and with whom. How should I behave?" Duroc looked at me for a long time and finally nodded. "That was to be feared, Adèle! I can only advise you to continue to behave inconspicuously. Don't give the Empress any reason to speculate. Because of her jealousy, the Empress sometimes sees ghosts where there are none. You only have to point this out to her discreetly and she will calm down." It seemed to be a tried and tested method of counteracting Joséphine's jealousy. Had the Emperor already had so many love affairs that his confidant Duroc was practiced in diverting his wife's suspicions? I knew he had a lot of affairs, but it was hard for me to deal with it properly, so I preferred to suppress it. "If there is any problem in this matter, please contact me, Adèle. The Emperor has instructed me to assist you in any case." I couldn't imagine Duroc preventing a marital crisis of the imperial couple that I had caused. "Do you think that could happen?" I asked cautiously. Before Duroc could answer, the front door opened.

The Grand Marshal stood up and took his bicorne under his arm. I left him standing, ran from the salon into the entrance hall and flew into the arms of the Emperor. He was wearing his black cloak as usual, and immediately dropped his hat to hug me. We kissed as passionately as if we hadn't seen each other for years. "My love...my darling!" I was a little breathless. He whispered something in my ear, I nodded vigorously. "So much!...so so much, yes!" He whispered something in my ear again that made me freeze with longing. The Emperor kissed me even harder, even wetter, even... Witnessing this spectacle was Duroc. Yes, he saw exactly what we were doing and I bet he saw our tongues! "It's good that you're here," said the Emperor, approaching the Grand Marshal with me in his arm. "...what did I hear? How long will the state banquet in the town hall last?" Duroc cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sire, the master of ceremonies estimated...six hours." I kept looking at the Emperor, I didn't want to miss a second of his sight. Duroc was nothing but air for me. The Emperor was annoyed, his expression grim. "Six hours...in ceremonial robes...with that feathered hat?! Six hours!...I can't even go piss with all that stuff on!" The Emperor looked at the Grand Marshal expectantly. "Sire, delegations from all arrondissements are coming..." Napoléon interrupted Duroc. "Six hours...good God!" But then he put his hand on Duroc's shoulder. "Well, it's not your fault. I'll just have to endure it!" He sighed deeply. "The ox is harnessed, now he must plow too!" He looked at me. Then he looked back at Duroc. "... but you'll allow me a small reward for this?! I demand two nights with Adèle!" Duroc's face showed relief. "The prospects for your wish are even better, Sire! I heart, that the Empress wishes to spend a few days in Malmaison in the near future. Orders have already given to heat the house!" I didn't know what that meant for me, but the Emperor grinned at Duroc. "Sounds excellent! Now go back to the palace, send me the fiacre at midnight!" Duroc clicked his heels together and bowed to the Emperor. When he had gone the Emperor put his arm around my waist. "So, now my sweet Adèle...let's take another close look at this mirror matter! You know what I mean, my lady?" I laughed. "Oh yes, Sire...I do!"

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 5 - The Bright Ages by Matthew Gabrielle and David M. Perry

Okay, the Harper Collins strike is over, so I can finally post this! As you might notice, the wait has meant I have ended up writing far too much of it. Turns out people really are telling the truth when they say writing negative reviews is funner and easier.

Anyway, I did not like this book! It’s an ungainly thing, torn halfway between wanting to be pop history and wanting to be an intervention in the discourse, and entirely too short to do either well. Insofar as is it history, it’s far less revolutionary than it seems to think it is, and the subjects it actually focuses on either already fit entirely into the pop understanding the book is positioning itself against, or else entirely about symbolism and architecture and generally abstracted from (being partial and small-minded) the stuff I’m actually interested in.

All that said the first and fundamental is pretty simple – it’s just altogether too short to do what it wants to. The book tries to be a history of the European Middle Ages – a thousand years of history for an entire continent (more than, given the repeated digressions about the Middle East and also the Mongols one time) – in 200 pages. Which is just, like, I mean I don’t want to say impossible, but I can’t really see any way you’d do it. Which means what we actually get is a series of snapshots, scattered across space and time – just specific, particular dynamics or situations that rarely have much to do with each other. I’m pretty sure the only specific place we ever return to after focusing on it is Ravenna, and that’s for a big, dramatic bookend starting the age with Galla Placidia and ending with Dante. Also the return is really more about Italian city states as a whole. Which is to say only Florence gets any detail at all.

A necessary causality of the snapshot approach is that there’s wide swathes of the period that just, aren’t mentioned in the slightest. Which again, fair, but also it’s a bit much for one of the lacuna to be the entire Holy Roman Empire, right? (Okay, not the entire, there’s repeated off hand mentions of Emperors, and also talk of how the Italian city-states fought the Empire. Just never any description whatsoever of what it, like, was. Except for the specific disavowal of saying it started with Charlemagne, which was never followed up on.) Which is still better than what Poland or Hungary or Lithuania or Kievan Rus got – if any of them were even mentioned, it was only off hand. Which does end up giving the impression that Medieval Europe included Jerusalem but not Krakow – to be fair, something a lot of actual Medieval people might have totally agree with. But given the amount of time spent on the Crusades to the Levant and the Albigensian Crusade, not even mentioning the bloody Christianize of the Baltic in passing feels negligent to the point of being actively misleading.

Also it’s weird, given the books whole focus on connections and commerce between Europe and the rider world – the steppe is right there! You don’t need to wait for the Mongols!

Speaking of – they give a bunch of apologia for the Mongol Empire that’s – well, basically the same stuff all empires get, brought safety to the roads and allowed free movement and trade, brought people together, spread culture and technology, enlightened and cosmopolitan, etc. Which I mostly just find funny because of how obvious it is the authors would, uh, probably not endorse the same sentiment for any more recent imperial projects.

But okay – it’s not that you can’t tell a useful history in what might seem to be way too little space – John Darwin tries to tell a literal history of the world from the 16th century in ~500 pages and I’d still say After Tamerlane is absolutely worthwhile reading. You just need, you know, discipline. Focus. A firm idea of your thesis and an obsession of what’s relevant to it (or just be entertaining and full of fun memorable trivia). So, what are Perry and Gabrielle actually trying to do here?

Honestly, it’s a little bit unclear? The thesis they present is that the Dark Ages didn’t exist – they insist on referring the whole Medieval period as ‘the Bright Ages’ through the entire book, it’s incredibly annoying – and that the Medieval period get a horribly unjustified bad wrap as uniquely cruel and provincial and barbaric and full of disease, illiteracy, superstition, etc. They explicitly position themselves as being a reaction to the vision of the past you see in Game of Thrones or Vikings (I’d say ‘or the Witcher’ but again, for the purposes of this book Eastern Europe doesn’t exist). Instead, they fill the book with hand picked examples of medieval beauty, sophistication, and connection to the wider world with the quite explicit contention that everything good about the Renaissance (and later) was really just outgrowths of the Medieval, and it was only the bad stuff that was new.

(At the same time, they also do not like white nationalists, and go out of their way at length on numerous occasions to remind you that Nazis are bad. Those digressions do always leave me wondering who they’re for – no actual Deus Vult type is going to get more than five pages into it, and they rarely get much deeper that surface level refutation of things no one else is likely to actually believe.)

Anyway – look, the central, overriding problem of the book is that it’s not nearly as revolutionary as it seems to think it is. Very problematic, when it has such a high opinion of itself for being so. The assorted trivia the book uses as shocking examples of how cosmopolitan and tolerant the period was mostly just, well, fit perfectly fine into the popular imagining of the Medieval era? Like ‘royals and elites imported foreign luxury goods and status symbols at great expense; missionaries, adventurers and religious emissaries travelled across Eurasia to preach, trade and try to find someone to help them invade Muslims ; women often wielded significant political influence by virtue of royal birth of marriage, and were active political players’ – are these statements shocking to literally anyone? Basically all of that literally happens in Game of Thrones!

Part of that is that the book keeps almost committing to a really radical thesis – not to say pure unreconstructed romanticism, but close to it – and then always has an attack of professional ethics and cringes away from it, and just awkwardly brings up how, to be sue, there were serfs and slaves and atrocities, but nonetheless when you think about it the later Crusader States really were fascinating sites of cultural exchange, or whatever.

Psychoanalyzing the authors is bad form, of course, but like – reading this book the overriding sense you get is that they’re proud progressives, and have dedicated their lives to studying the Medieval era. But in the contemporary discourse people on their side use ‘Medieval’ as an insult to mean patriarchal, or brutal, or cruel, and the people who like the Medieval era are all in the Sack of Jerusalem Fandom. The sheer angst and righteous indignation they have about this state of affairs just about oozes through every page – honestly if I’m being maximally pithy and uncharitable, you rather get the sense that the real aim of the book is to make ‘being really into Medieval history’ a less reactionary-coded interest to bring up at professional-class dinner parties.

But honestly I could have forgiven almost all of this if the anecdotes and snapshots the book did focus on were informative and interesting. And this is almost entirely pure personal preference, I fully acknowledge but – the things that the book chose to focus on just really weren’t, to me?

Which is to say that The Bright Ages is incredibly interested in architectural and monumental symbolism, especially of the religious variety – there are whole chapters overwhelmingly dedicated to exploring the layout of churches and how their architecture and lighting was meant to convey meaning, or detailing at great length a specific monumental cross in northern England. These are used as synecdoches for broader topics, of course but, like, an awful lot of word count really is dedicated to describing how Gala Placedia’s chapel in Ravenna must have wowed people. And even as far as using them as synecdoches – the way that monasteries, bishops and the royal household in Paris competed to have the most impressive church/chapel as a way to convey religious authority is genuinely interesting, but I’d honestly have rather heard a lot more of the actual politics and sociology or how sacred authority and legitimacy was gathered around the Capetians in the later middle ages and a lot less about how specifically impressive the royal chapel on the palace grounds was. There’s a massive amount of symbolic and artistic detail, a fair amount of time spent charting great thinkers and proving that there was too such a thing as a Medieval intellectual, and almost none at all on, like, political and social and (god forbid) economic history. Which are, unfortunately, the bits of it I’m actually interested in.

The book isn’t just architecture of course, but much of the rest is either very basic – yes, the vikings were traders as well as raiders and travelled shockingly long distances, yes there was intellectual interchange between Muslim, Jewish and Christian thinkers across the Mediterranean, yes the Church acted as a vital sponsor of learning and scholarship. I’m sure these are new information to like, someone? - or so caught up in historiographical arguments and qualifications that it loses sight of the actual subject – I swear the book spent more time saying that it’s wrong to call it a Carolingian Renaissance because that implies there were actual dark ages before and after than it does explaining why anyone actually would.

Beyond that – okay, so as mentioned this book is really consciously progressive. Which, beyond a certain antiquarian distaste for how desperately they’re trying to get across ‘see, our field of study is Relevant! And Important! Please please please give us tenure/prestige/funding’ I wholly support. (I mean, like, I do think Medieval Studies deserves tenure/prestige/funding. Just slightly unbecoming to so transparently be grasping for it, and also more than a bit self-defeating) - but, like, the book’s politics are weird? Or weirdly surface level and slightly confused, given how much of the book is focused around them.

Like – the book spends a massive amount of time and attention combating the myth that women in the middle ages were all cloistered and politically mute and totally powerless. But the sum total of what it actually says is ‘did you know: elite women in the aristocracy and church exercised political influence? And a lot of the Christianization of western Europe happened through highborn christian women marrying pagan kings and raising their children Christian?” And while I suppose ‘elite women have influence even in patriarchal societies’ is a useful fact for someone to learn, I’m not sure examples that more or less cash out to ‘queens could have power by manipulating their husbands and sons’ is a particularly novel or progressive take, you know? More broadly – it’s a weakness of the book’s framework of jumping across countries and centuries between anecdotes that we never get any sense of gender roles and how power and influence were gendered systemically, so much as single (or if you’re very lucky, two or three) particular women with a vague gesture that they’re kind of typical. Not to complain about a lack of theory, but there’s really basically zero theory.

The book’s choices of examples for women to focus on are also – okay, not to be all ‘why didn’t you talk about my faves’, but insofar as you’re talking how women were able to exercise power, it’s really very odd that you never talk about any women who, like, ruled in their own right? C’mon, you mention the Anarchy offhand to introduce Eleanor of Aquitaine but don’t even say what it was about, let alone talk about the Empress Matilda? (I’d say the same thing about Matilda of Tuscany and the investiture Controversy, but it’s not like the book actually talks about the Investiture Controversy beyond the absolute basics, so). The final result is a book that talks a lot about how elite women had influence, and then the influence they actually bring up is almost always of the most stereotypically feminine-gender variety imaginable.

All that really pales to how confused the book seems when it talks about Christianity. Which it has to, of course, fairly constantly – it’s a book about Medieval Europe. But it’s kind of horribly torn between two imperatives here – on the one hand, it desperately wants to fight back against the whole black legend of the tyrannical, book-burning, Galileo-murdering, science-suppressing hopelessly venal and corrupt, all-powering Magesterium. But on the other, they really don’t want to come off as supporting, well, the heretic murdering and antisemitism or being the sort of guy online who posts memes of the Knights Templar. So you see this somewhat exhausting two-step where they go on at length about all the beautiful architecture and scholarship preservation the church did interrupted every so often by this concession about how of course it wasn’t all good and obviously pogroms and burning heretics wasn’t great, but- (The chapter on the vikings is much the same, except with a much clearer ‘it’s important not to romanticize these people because the people who do that are white nationalists, but also see how tolerant and far-ranging and cool they are?’)

Discussing the Church is also a place where the book’s whole allergy to social structure and institutions really serves it poorly. I at a certain point stopped keeping count of the number of times where the book called out that the centralized, papal-centric Church was a creation of the high middle ages, and not at all how things worked for most of the period. But then they just never actually explain how they worked instead, or really even how things changed to so enshrine the Pope’s power. They talk about how convents could be wealthy and powerful landholders and their abbesses’ wield significant power, but never even gesture at explaining how they interfaced with the institutional church. It’s really very frustrating.

Of course Christianity still gets far better treatment than Judaism or Islam – there’s a chapter which goes into some detail on the life of Maimonides in the process of extolling Medieval scholarship and talking about how classical learning was never really lost and the Renaissance is fake news. But despite the gestures to the presence of Jewish communities throughout Europe there’s essentially zero, like, description of how they actually functioned, or were organized, or (aside from the occasionally mentioned pogroms) how they interacted with their christian neighbours. The treatment of Islam is much the same – there are some mentions of the Islamic wold and its intellectual traditions, but essentially just to rehash the same points about the Islamic Golden age and Ibn Sina and all the other bits of trivia everyone probably picked up keeping up with the culture war during the Bush Administration. But again, only the most passing mentions of, like, politics or organization or even theology. It felt gratingly cursory, given the emphasis placed on the fact that eg Al Andulas was clearly part of Medieval Europe

Underneath all this is just the fact that The Bright Ages is almost an entirely a history of the elite. Peasants, serfs and slaves only exist in the for the sake of concessions about how of course things weren’t all good. The book has almost no interest in the lives of the lower classes, and barely seems to realize this. It starts to really, really grate, especially when you’re making all these implicit judgments about how the Medieval era was compared to what came after – in which case, the lives of, like, 90% of the population are rather important! Like unironically peasant life is fascinating! What did life actually look like of the overwhelmingly majority of people? If you want to give a sketch of the entire era, it’s kind of important.

I’m almost certainly being unfair here – basically everything about the book’s sensibilities grated on me, so I can’t say I was trying to be especially charitable. But really – the book’s perfectly fine light reading, but as intentional propaganda is hamfisted and it’s unclear who it’s for, and as an actual history it’s just...bad. It’s useful as a way to get a sense of the discourse, I guess, but otherwise I couldn’t really recommend it.

[terrence-silver]

What are some scenarios that could lead old man Terry to meeting his future beloved? Like where would that era of Terry most likely meet his beloved?

---

The most obvious answers could be something like; at the Country Club! Some exclusive Gala! A high-end garden party! A Synagogue! An art exhibition! An elite charity event! A corporate meeting! An auction! A Yacht! An invite-only gentleman's joint! An Opera, for all we know. Anywhere from Korea, Tahiti, Japan and back again! Anywhere in the world, globetrotter that he is. Wherever the rich and the famous might mingle --- a crowd where Terry very much belongs and finds himself at home with. But, I think that answer only covers a small percentage of the actual truth.

Why?

Because I think Terry Silver, unbeknownst to most anyone, mingles everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. Yes, often times dressed as a common, unassuming bypasser just minding his own business; now you see him and now you don't. Sometimes, he's driving a run-down blue Ford truck posing himself as a hard-done-by Dojo owner downtown and other times, decades later, clearly not having changed all that much from his old ways, he might just be some smartly dressed, not at all shabby looking old man at the local Mini-Mart, intimidating Daniel Larusso between the produce aisles and leaving without buying a single thing. That's just a casual Wednesday for him. Nobody suspecting this is one of the wealthiest men on the West Coast, if not much, much further.

I think Terry Silver likes to scope out ordinary people, just for the sake of it.

He likes to scope out ordinary places too.

I think he enjoys the sport of getting down there with your commonplace Joe-Schmoe, and just observe, like one observes a Safari of animals. He likes to feel the pulse of everyone around him. Seek out opportunity, even if that opportunity rears its head in the form of some kid he bribes at a random club in 1985 to tactically hit on some girl so he can agitate Daniel into violence, right before making his quick escape into a back-alley in the dead of night, having caused a ruckus on the dance-floor. Yes, why not. It is fun, and Terry Silver seeks fun. It is also an investment and he seeks that doubly so. He seeks chance. Out on the street, in unexpected nooks and crannies or at a parking lot at midnight, while the very next day, he might be on the cover of Forbes as the most, ehm, Charitable Man of the Decade, and an incidental pedestrian would be none the wiser. Or they might just see his face on front page and think that that looks awfully familiar to that one guy, borderline thinking they've gone mad and are imagining things. That can't be same person, right? That might amuse Terry, in the most perverse and chaotic sense. Give him a sort of power --- over his environment and everyone around him, even mere strangers he has no intention of seeing ever again, except for what research and amusement they provided in the moment. The gleeful satisfaction that he's so big and so important and yet nobody knows. Not unless he wants them to, being entirely in control of the narrative and his identity --- and how it is perceived. That his ability to camouflage, disguise and hide himself with just a few cleverly chosen fashion choices and a difference in bearing is that great that it can trick people. The world is a sort of playground for him, and day-to-day people tend to be hilariously prone to being bribed, threatened, influenced, swayed, talked into things and used. Their lives are raw and interesting in ways that are hard to describe and it is a special type of voyeurism Terry Silver has undoubtedly indulged in in one form or another all his life.

Didn't Roman Emperors occasionally disguise themselves to mingle with the plebian rabble too? Terry fancies himself similar. In fact, he knows he is.

He also might be something of an adrenaline junkie; where just minding his own business stripped down from the strappings of his wealth might be genuinely engaging and good sport for him because he gets to know exactly how he will be viewed when nobody knows he's a Billionaire. His fascination almost experimental in nature, bearing a mischievous, childlike curiosity, if not an off-shoot of his tendency to pathologically lie and fabricate whole entire personalities, changing himself and his colors like a chameleon. Almost like he's goading people to show him exactly who they are. What they're like. What they're true nature is when faced with just some guy they've nothing to gain from out there.

So, beloved? Beloved might meet their King Cobra anywhere.

Anywhere at all.

A prospect both exciting and in equal measure daunting.

Because one never knows...

---

(I write more about this topic in my fanfic right here x)

[felipe-v-fanblog]

Hi my friend 👋, Who is your favorite Habsburg King? One for Austria and One for Spain?

Who is your least Favorite king of all time? I wish you the best.

HIIII !! how good is to receive an ask just the moment i was thinking about going to random dms to infodump people about random hyperfixations . specially from you my friend im wishing you the best too .

I really like habsburg story as it is full of girlbosses and malewifes ( a really cool dynasty ) . IIIII i really like the austrian ones , spaniards are always a mystery to me . I lived there for four years and I still dont catch their accent . My favourite habsburg monarch is emperor Franz II im not normal about him . there is an strong need to scream everytime i think about him . People probably must known him more for the napoleonic wars but I think he is very interesting by his own right . But tbh I really like all habsburgs from Austria they are very babygirls . Maximilian I , Charles V , Ferdinand I , Rudolf II , Leopold I , Charles VI , Marie Theresia , Joseph II and Ferdinand I of Austria ( not to confuse him with Ferdinand I of the Holy Roman Empire ) are my favourites but I really like all of them except for Leopold II and Francis I ( i have a love-hate relationship with him bc he is funny but I hate that he wasnt faithful to Marie Theresia bc !! SHE WAS LITERALLY A 10 ?! ) . From Spain I truly only like Felipe I and Carlos II . The other ones are very boring to me but I get that Felipe II was interesting . I am not mentioning Charles I because I already mentioned him as emperor . Well . He should be here because he is a spanish one yeah . so yeah he is also here i really like him i find him too funny and he was very babygirl . I mostly like infantes of Spain like the Cardinal-Infante Fernando de Austria , Don Juan José de Austria , Carlos de Austria ( son of Felipe II - prince of Asturias before Felipe III ) and Carlos de Austria ( brother of Felipe IV , I really like him !! I find him autistic and awkard asf and I really like that in people . Like Franz II ) . Those are my tastes in Habsburgs sadly I will try not to talk about the women too as to not make this too big but I also love their queens . Felipe IV is an enigma to me I find him incomprehensible . Truly a mystery like Spain itself . I liked that moment when Louis XIV and Philippe d'Orléans went to hug him and cry when they met to give Louis XIV his wife that was hilarious .

2.IIII I would say Henry VIII cus he is easy to hate but I do also hate Henry VII because he is the one who made my homecountry a mess ( Wales - if you ever see me talking weird english , is because its not my native language ! I speak welsh hehe ) . I really really hate Charles X of France because he ruined my favourite queer mentally ill dynasty ( bourbons ) and destroyed everything Louis XVIII worked for ( he is my !! favourite historical figure ever ) . I dont really hate many monarchs bc even if they are bad they are amusing to know about . The real hate I have to a historical figure is to Saint-Just but i completely agree with his ideas but he was a real asshole and i dont know how robespierre was friend of that guy . he was literally an edgy teen trying to be a politic is everything i hate about politics but worse because i agree with everything he said . except killing louis xvi that was a mistake . they should have put louis xvi in a box and send it to austria if they didnt wanted him there

[guzsdaily]

Having Dreams You Can Control

Daily Blogs 362 - Nov 1st, 12.024

And since I can't control time, this post is being written after midnight.

Philosophy

In the past, around 3 years ago, I was really interested in philosophy concepts. Thing such as quantum immortality, nihilism, the concept of god. In conjunction with some therapy concepts such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.

Unfortunately, I never dig too much deep into many of these, mostly knowing and searching about these topics on videos and some Wikipedia pages, and things as such.

But there is one philosophy that always stuck with me and I would say mostly helped me as a person: Stoicism.

Stoicism

Stoicism is a philosophy branch that is the most useful to day-to-day life, I would say. Being one that does not question things such as "what is God?", "what's the meaning of life?", "matter is made of what?", etc. etc... but things such as "how can I be happy in difficult times?".

I won't go on a full history lesson since it is somewhat of an old philosophy that has a lot of history, however, there are some key facts about its story I think is important to tell.

One of the first/main Stoics you'll see throughout time, is Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, considered one of the last great Roman emperors of all time. He wrote his thoughts all was a sort of diary to itself, making it very interesting to think about the idea that he constantly questioned himself, his being, his reality, and ended in conclusion that some times can hurt.

Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one. - Meditations Book X, 16 - Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

And on the other hand, one of the most influential and best Stoics, in my opinion, is Epictetus. He someone born and lived in slavery in Rome, with his real name being unknown to this day, Epictetus (epíktētos) in Greek is simply a word that means "gained" or "acquired". Funnily enough, the main Stoic teaching of him was that anything beyond our human control are external events that we should not "care"; we should accept whatever happens to us calmly and dispassionately.

It is not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters - Epictetus (probably, I couldn't find the source)

But What is Stoicism?

Well, it is somewhat simple: If you can't control it, it doesn't matter; The only thing you can control is your perception of reality.

And of course, there are a lot of examples and interpretations, but today I will just talk about my own interpretation and how it applies to my life.

Sometimes I joke to my friends about how Stoicism is the philosophy of "I don't give a fuck", but that is oversimplifying a lot. This is mostly about remembering that you are a human, with human limitation; Not only that, but you are a brain, a conscience, that can't even fully control your entire body. The world changes and works with or without our input in it, and we have two options to deal with it:

Try to convince yourself that you can change it and that the world is specifically designed for you;

Or ignore it and remember that you can change just your mind and being.

Both are ignorant in some way or another.

Stoicism is about not taking things personally, and remembering that shit happens, liking we or not. A lot of times I get angry, scared, sad, for things such as my government banning a whole social media platform... but what can I reasonably do?

We all get anxious or worried about wanting to make someone else think the way we want them to, but can you? Yes, we can debate and change ideas, but we have control over someone else's mind?

It is Not Supposed to Be Ignorance

Even tho it can sound like, for me, Stoicism is not about not caring about anything else besides yourself. Marcus Aurelius was a Stoic Roman emperor, even tho he knew he couldn't control his population directly; Epictetus obviously still wanted freedom and didn't simply accept being a slave for life.

The main idea, for me, is putting a limit on the amount of care.

Fuck, I want to create a whole ass company, and I don't even need to list the amount of outside variables that will affect and could destroy this whole dream. However, I know that things can happen outside my control, and yes, I will feel emotions about them, but I won't feel them forever.

The idea is not to be passionate about it; "Passion" being used as a term for holding on, for feeling big emotions, for affecting your life and being because of something.

Stoicism, for me, is about not letting things that are outside your control determine who you are, what you will be, and how happy you will be about it. Because the only one that can determine it, is yourself.

You take action and responsibility for your own actions, and nothing else.

If it is not right, do not do it, if it is not true, do not say it. For let thy efforts be — Meditations Book XII, 17 - Marcus Aurelius Autoninus

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There are a lot of things I would still like to talk about Stoicism, but I'm still learning about it and I didn't want to go a lot off scope in this post. This is a philosophy that really helped me through some rough times. And you don't really need to be fully Stoic to be happy, it is impossible to fully be one, but learning and trying to apply it on life can really help.

Show me someone who is ill and yet happy, in danger and yet happy, dying and yet happy, exiled and yet happy. Show me such a person; by the gods, how greatly I long to see a Stoic! - Discourses Book II, ch. 19-24 - Epictetus

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Today's artists & creative things Music: VHS - by ZeRO

© 2024 Gustavo "Guz" L. de Mello. Licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0

[submissivegayfrenchboy2]

05 / 10 / 2024

Allen Leech's characters : Agrippa vs Tom Branson

Allen Leech is a beautiful and talented actor who played in two famous TV series : ROME (2007) and DOWNTOWN ABBEY (and the movies). The characters are from different historicals periods : Roman Republic during Antiquity (ROME) and 1912-1929 (DOWNTON ABBEY).

Marcus Vispanius Agrippa isn't very noble but thanks to his cleverness and bravery, he becomes a general under Octavian's orders. In the tv series, he is the best friend Octavian/Octavius (futur first Roman Emperor). As a master, I think Agrippa would be not too authoritarian, but just confident enough to make you obey without hesitation.

Tom Branson is an Irish republican man who is hired at Downton Abbey to be a driver. What's interesting is that Tom comes from being a servant to having one, so he's never disrespectful towards his friends who are now his inferiors.

Their love stories are very important because it changes their destiny but not their personality. If Marcus Vispanius Agrippa is a real person, Tom Branson is a fictional character. In both cases, it's a secret love before it's revealed to their relatives, and in both cases Allen Leech's characters are in love with a woman who superior in rank to them.

Agrippa, in ROME, falls in love with Octavia, Octavian/Octavius's older sister. He is really protective towards her, and it's a forbidden love : even though we doesn't see them a lot together, this couple is really cute.

Tom Branson falls in love with Lady Sybil Crawley, who at first doesn't share his feelings because he is older, Irish, poor, republican, her dad's employee... But their love story is really moving, because it's the proof that even though you are completely different from the person you love, you can complete each other 😊

I've putted links of edit of the two love stories because that may makes you wants to watch the TV series, without too many spoilers 😁

So now that you know a little bit more about the two characters (and if you knew them before, don't hesitate to share your opinion on them in comments or by messages 😉), here is my question :

I've talked about Marcus Agrippa here 😊

@allenleechonline @allenleechphotos-blog @allenleechinlondon-blog @allenleechbirthday @tombransonfans-blog @tombransonabbey @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @tidodore2

[kostantina]

Hetalia HRE (Holy Roman Empire) Headcanons:

- He was born in Rome (December 25, 800) to represent the imperial status of Carolus after being crowned by the Pope as Augustus and Emperor and his Roman Empire. The personification of the Franks was HRE's first guardian. And considering the circumstances of his birth, people thought he was godsent. His existence was due to an intangible entity created by the Pope and the Emperor. He didn't represent territories or a group of people with an empire. Rather, he represented the empire itself. He was the Empire.

This meant that after Emperor Louis I, he would be with the next emperors and not the rulers of East Francia unless those rulers were also emperors. Think of the imperial crown but in person. He was not East Francia, but after Otto was crowned emperor, the imperial title became permanently associated with East Francia/the Kingdom of Germany. So we could say that rather than a city becoming his heart, it was East Francia/the Kingdom of Germany, as the Empire also didn't have any fixed capital.

- He began to get close to Italy during the reign of Emperor Lothair I, but he met him much earlier.

- Having a toddler body but an older mind, HRE would be present in battles to talk about strategies or know about the situation and become a motivational symbol for his soldiers instead of engaging in a fight himself because his physical body would hold him down. But he would still have a weapon to protect himself just in case someone targeted him or there's no one else to protect him.

- Considering the religious nature of his empire, even if he managed to escape his toddler body earlier, HRE would prefer avoiding staining his hands with blood, obsessed with being pure or should I say, holy. He would order other people to do the dirty work for him, even if he could easily do it himself.

But of course, he wouldn't be able to completely avoid having blood on his hands. There would be occasions where he would be forced to do a vile act to protect himself. If needed or possible, he would try to cover it up and have someone take the blame, either willing or unwillingly. Willingly, because someone might respect him too much and be very determined to serve the Sacred Empire.

He would basically use the power of words more than a sword or other weapons of destruction.

- If he was able to grow old, he would also practice chastity to further emphasize his purity. But who knew what he was doing behind closed doors?

- As a religious person, he would pray for forgiveness whenever he sinned and then he would sin again. So on and so forth.

- He knew how to speak Arabic because of Frederick II (Stupor Mundi).

- He was frenemies with the Papal States, and they sought to undermine one another while recognizing the importance of one another.

- He was a perfectionist.

- He was very curious and eager to learn, which also had to do with him deeply wanting to be the definition of perfection as much as purity (one of the aspects of perfection for him). He loved being revered by people, and they could hate his emperor or empire but must love him. This led to him reading a lot or becoming a bookworm and becoming a workaholic.

- He was interested in theology, philosophy, alchemy, and herbalism. Herbalism, because he wanted to understand how he could take care of his health and he loved plants or nature in general.

- He also loved animals, celestial objects, and the sky.

- He was a patron of education, art, and music.

- He was the older and not younger brother of Prussia.