#Tunica Dress

[kabuki-writes]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia

chapter: 6 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: The wedding ceremony with Emperor Geta gives you a first glimpse of what you are going to face, once the title 'Empress' crowns you. Meanwhile Caracalla has to deal with the thoughts about his twin owning you now.

warning(s): heavy nsfw & sexual violence | angst | alcohol consumption | drug consumption | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: I am wishing you all a 'Merry Christmas'! Sorry that this chapter took so long, i wanted to finish it faster, but i was ill for quite some time and had no head for writing. No worries though, i am feeling better now! A small reminder: Due to the holidays, the next chapter might take a bit of time.

word count: 3.6k

Gods expected rituals and nothing in Rome was more important, more holy and more strict to certain rules than a wedding - especially the wedding of an Emperor. A whole series of necessaries had to be prepared in advance to this special celebration before the bride and the groom were able to stand in front of the altar. From the preparation of the dowry to the sacrifices made to the gods. It all began with the most formal part: engagement ceremony, where the exchange of promises between the groom and the bride's father hold more significance than the words of the soon-to-be-wed woman. In Roman society, being born a female was still strongly bound to ownership. First the ownership of the father and then the ownership of the husband. And even though rich Roman women had more freedom than others, it was still a life in societal chains.

Now that you sat on the floor to your mother‘s feet, you instantly thought about the eyes of that lamb your family had brought to the temple of Juno as a sacrifice. The innocence in its eyes slaughtered by the dagger of the priest. One Life for another Life - yours. Did Juno have her blessing? How could you know right now.

„Mother…?“, you spoke out as you noticed the shaking hands and the tears in your mother‘s eyes.

She was pale as marble, trying her best to keep her face, but you were well aware of how much it destroyed her and your father to let you go - especially when the arms of your soon-to-be-husband were Emperor Geta. As a daughter, you tried your best to comfort your mother, as much as it hurt you too. Your hands took hers, gently squeezing them, while your eyes found hers. "I shouldn't cry, i know...", she whispered and placed her hand on your cheek through the thin fabric of the flame-coloured veil that covered your face. Your body was clothed in a beautiful white tunica dress, embroidered with golden depictions of different flowers. You were shackled by the amount of jewelry - engagement presents of Emperor Geta for his bride -, expensive golden necklaces and bracelets that should depict the status you will have standing by his side. Although you were no Empress yet, you wore a bridal crown on top of your carefully braided hair. One of woven fragrant herbs and flowers, Rosemary, verbena, marjoram, roses, violets, and lilies, to represent fertility.

"My beautiful daughter, even Venus would envy you now. But i had wished that... that you would not have to marry a man like-"

"Don't", you stopped her, knowing fully well, which name she was about to say and you shook her head. It was meaningless to express any form of sorrow or hatred, even if this wedding was a forced one - a trade for your own life and that of your parents. Terrible or not, it would bring honor to your family and in the end, it would make you Empress. A gift as well as a heavy burden, especially given the man that will be your husband - your Emperor. Geta.

A marriage ceremony always followed specific rules, that were meant to please the gods. A scacrifice in the temples of Juno and Jupiter was mandatory, but soon you'll face another significant part of your wedding. As Romans believed the only bride of value was a virgin who had to be stolen from her family, they simulated the bride being abducted from her family as part of the ceremony. You were able to hear the chants and chattering of the big entourage of guests arriving to you parent's home outside - accompanied by a large amount of Praetorian Guards and the Emperor himself. Usually the large wedding feast and celebration would take place at the bride's family home, but given the significance of an Emperor's wedding and the amount of guests, it was agreed that it would take place in the palace after the procession.

Even if you tried to face it with a stoic mask, your heart pumped against your chest - a mixture of excitement and fear. Your eyes closed for a moment, as you heard the footsteps and voices of the Praetorian soldiers and amongst them Geta's, who was the first to enter the room. You were still facing your mother, holding her hands tight, while tears ran down her face. "I am here to claim my bride", the Emperor called out with a triumphant smile on his face, dressed in a golden, heavy decorated armor and a white groom's toga - a depiction like a god. Unusual for a wedding ceremony, but it was a symbol. A symbol of the power and wealth of the twin's reign, a symbol of his triumph over General Acacius, who had no choice anymore than to give him his most precious belonging - his daughter.

Seeing you there on your knees was a sight we might never forget. Even if your back faced him, he could see your curves under the garment you wore and he immediately thought about the wedding night, which was the highlight in his mind for today. But right now he had to calm himself, as he stepped forward and suddenly took you at the waist to pull you from your crying mother's embrace. "Mother!", you screamed as the groom forced you to go with him, tears dripping down your cheeks under the flame-red veil. The tradition dictated that the bride would cry out in pain to fool the gods of the home that she was taken away, 'stolen' before you would have to walk the procession without the protection of any god until you stepped into the home of the groom.

All of Rome had gathered in the streets to witness the procession of the Emperor's wedding. You stood at his side on a richly decorated chariot carried by two pale-white horses. The big amount of wedding guests accompanied your path by singing the Hymenaeus and carrying a whitehorn torch, a spina alba, to honor the goddess Ceres. Normally you would simply walk to the palace, as it was the core of such a parade, but nothing was normal about an Emperor's wedding and especially not Geta's. He wanted to show-off, he wanted eveyone to know how powerful he was and that he was now marrying the daughter of one of Rome's most successful beloved generals. It was all calculated and everything followed a plan, he viewed as perfect. This union was not only a definite way to get you, it formed an even closer bond between his and his brother's reign and your father's role as a military general. Would he ever betray them again, it will also be a betrayal against you. And another calculated side-effect was the use of Acacius' popularity through a marriage with his daughter.

The masses cheered for you and for the Emperor, they wished you "feliciter" - "good luck" for your marriage, some of them even shouted your name. It felt surreal and you were glad that the veil covered your face, while you bit your tongue. The palace, your new home, on the palatin hill looked even more oppressive than the last time you'd faced it. Your heart was heavy and you could practically feel the stare Geta gave you, but also the one of Caracalla, who followed you two alongside your father and mother as part of the wedding procession. There was something lingering in his eyes, something you didn't notice as you were focused on what lied ahead. Geta leaned towards your ear and whispered.

"Isn't it exciting, my dear...? You will soon be the wife of an Emperor, my wife." He accenturated his last words, almost as if he had to point out that your life center will soon be him and him alone.

"How could i forget. Just as i may never forget the true reason, why i am here. A threat is still a threat", you answered in a low tone, provocative.

But the groom simply chuckled and turned his face towards the cheering masses again, waving to the common folk. He didn't really care about them in any way, but he knew well about the power of such events in the eyes of the plebs. And to accompany this wedding, he'd already ordered games in the collosseum and many festivities around Rome in honor of his special day.

"Let me tell you that i rather enjoy those little outbursts of hatred. I will ask you again, once you enjoy all the privileges an Empress has. I can be a generous man, as long as you're not testing my patience. For now, i simply expect you to smile and show those peasants the beauty of their beloved general's daughter. Let them see that the sun is shining upon them in the presence of Venus."

Words like honey and yet they tasted bitter to you, while his hand was locked on your back, not only to stabilize you on the chariot, but also holding you tightly against his own body. You belonged to him now and he wanted everyone to see that.

_______________________________

“Ubi tu Gaia, Ego Gaius.”

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia.”

The words still rang in your head, again and again, even as the music and the chattering of the feast surrounded you. And you still felt the kiss of Geta's lips on yours, even if it was only the beginning. You were considered married now.

Fire and Water. The symbol of life. The moment you stood at the main door of the palace, a matron of honor hold a candle and a bowl of water, as both you and Geta traced your hands over it. He was able to lift your veil at that point, kiss you and carry you over the doorstep - it was that simple in the end. And it had sealed your life forever.

It was necessary and yet the kiss was longer than it should've been as it was the first symbolic union of groom and bride in front of the wedding guests, who cheered and honored them with chanter and congratulations. And even though it was just a kiss on the lips, nothing more, you could practically sense the hunger of Geta, the hunger for more. Of course it had to wait until he got you in his bed the first time, but this would soon become a reality and you didn't know if you were ready for it.

The music and the voices of the people were still a numb background sound as your eyes glanced over the room, while you were sitting right next to your now husband on a lectus, receiving one personal congratulation after another. The palace was richly decorated, even more than the last time you were here for the victory celebrations of your father. Hordes of servants ran around to assure that all the guests had enough of the expensive wine and expansive food, luxuriously presented on a long table with tons of fruits, vegetables, fish as well as expensive, rare meat such as ostrich, peacock and wild deer.

Roman generals, politicians, rich merchants, every patrician from Rome’s upper class had gathered here to celebrate the union between Emperor Geta and his new wife. The wedding gifts ranging from gold, jewelry and silk to exotic animals were piling up in another room, as servants had to walk in and out, every time another guest paid his respect. You gave them your smile and your words of thanks and yet none of it really reached your eyes, as you were still trying to cope with the fact that they now adressed you as 'Empress'. Your eyes went to your parents, which were part of the guests, who participated in the feast and celebrations. But you could clearly see the pain in your father's eyes and the pale face of your mother, who could barely eat something even though she tried to hide her sorrows behind her rehearsed mask of charm and politeness. Their eyes find yours in certain moments and it hurt you the most to see them like this as you knew very well, that your father gave himself the blame for your current situation. But you had already moved on, as it made no sense to cry about the past in any way.

But you were pulled from your thoughts, when it was Emperor Caracalla, who stepped forward to pay his respect to the new wed couple. The twin of Geta with the golden laurel wreath crown on his head was dressed in an ornate that depicted his wealth, expensive embroidered silk in dark blue and purple colors, a stark contrast to his gingerblonde, wild hair. Even though he smiled, you could see that it was a forced one, a bitter smile, hiding his true thoughts. "Brother, i congratulate you and your beautiful wife on your wedding. May the gods bless this union," he spoke out, while Geta already stood up and you followed him.

"Your words mean the most to me, Caracalla. Thank you," his twin answered with a happy smile as he took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Even though Geta came off as a crual human being sometimes, it was undeniable that he hold nothing but a strong brotherly love for his twin, despite them sharing the power. After Geta, Carcalla turned to you and placed his hands on your cheeks.

"I welcome you to the family," he whispered, before he placed one kiss on each side of your cheek.

It was not an uncommon gesture to do so, especially not as a way to welcome someone in a new household - but Geta's eyes were locked on you two as his brother did so. And you were very aware that something was off in this very moment, as you could feel the slightly trembling fingers of Caracalla on your skin, as if he had to hold himself back. He quickly stepped back, staring into your eyes, while a servant rushed to him, giving the Emperor a small wooden box, carved with all sorts of flowers.

"I thought, ... since you'e now the new Empress of Rome, the only present worth your grace would be a crown that truly underlines your beauty," Caracalla explained and opened the box.

In it was a golden half-round Roman-styled tiara with ornamental decorations, well-crafted with every little detail that catched your eyes. It was stunning, even given all the expensive jewelry with which Geta had hung you, it was still breathtaking. A soft smile appeared on your lips, before you spoke your words.

"This is a wonderful and very generous gift, my Emperor. I thank you dearly". Caracalla's lips shuddered, before he forced an almost innocent smile on them too.

"This tiara is made after my personal request. The artist was assigned to model it after the crown that Empress Poppea wore once. The wife of Emperor Nero. I thought you might like the... historical connotation to it".

Your face grew pale, while you tried your best to keep your smile in place. Geta didn't seemed to realize what his brother meant with that - but you did. You instantly remembered the conversation you had with him at the amphitheater, you remembered the way he looked at you, the desire in his eyes, that was still present in this very moment. And even though his brother did not understand the true meaning behind Caracalla's gift, he did sense the tension that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, brother", he instantly cut the air with his voice, his hands softly taking the tiara out of the box before you could do anything.

Geta positioned himself between you and Caracalla, a very clear symbol that even if he tolerated his brother in your presence and might even be willing to allow him much more freedom than a husband would, it was still Geta, who called you his wife now. You were his. So it was him, who placed the tiara onto your head, where it perfectly fit with the half-bridal hairstyle you wore. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment, before his fingers touched your skin as he pushed one of your straints of hair back in place before leaning down to your ear.

"Just a little more time and then I'll have you all to myself", he whispered, before he turned to his seat again.

There was only one step for this marriage to be fully recognized in the eyes of the gods and it was the wedding night - Geta's prize, which he longed for and Caracalla's hell. The reminder he will not be the first to have you, but his twin.

_______________________________

"Say it! SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME!", he hissed over and over again, pounding harder with each word.

His fingers pressed against the neck of a concubine, while his golden rings tightly pinched into the soft flesh. She wore quite a similar attire than you did today, her hair styled like yours, her face at least reminding Caracalla of you. But that concubine was nothing like you, a dull replacement, a vessel the Emperor needed to get the heat and anger off his mind as he fucked her senseless under the eyes of his entourage of male and female slaves. No one said a word, fear was written in their eyes, because they knew it was one of their owners 'outbursts'. They could see how the young woman tried desperately to get a catch of air, while Caracalla strangled her in his psychotic state, tears running down his cheeks as he did so. Instead of his brother it should've been him to marry you, to fuck you, to love you like you deserved. A goddess amongst the common humans, a Venus. He was Nero and you were his Poppea. At least here in his own chambers, he could play out this fantasy, while the wedding celebration still went on and you were probably on your way to the chambers of his damned twin brother Geta. It needed a lot of sex and a cocktail of ancient drugs to numb his thoughts over this injustice.

"I love you-..., my Emperor", the young woman under him moaned with all the strength that she could find in a situation like that, the fear of losing her life all written on her face.

But those words were the ones Caracalla needed to hear. With a couple of heavy thrusts, he came inside of her, spilling his semen into that concubine like he would've done with you - if he just had the chance. His eyes were still shimmering wet with his tears, while he pulled back, catching his breath for himself in this moment. The young woman layed on the mattress in front of him, still alive, but in a state of bliss and shock, her eyes wet in tears as well. She wasn't able to say something, and even if so, she were not allowed to do anyways. Caracalla's ice-blue eyes stared cold at her naked body, freezing in the moment as he tried to still pretend to himself that it was you laying in front of him. But it wasn't you and it hit his mind now. This woman was just another whore he tried so desperately to numb his thoughts with. Yet the voices in his head grew louder and louder. "Get her out of my sight!", the Emperor ordered.

"I don't want to see this girl ever again. She is nothing compared to her - throw her away, i cannot stand this waste any longer!", he screamed with a hoarse voice, still sobbing.

"Where is Dondus!?"

No one dared to speak up in a situation like that, no one even dared to look at Caracalla. Everything that might anger the young Emperor could end in an immediate death right now. Even the slave that always carried his pet monkey around, simply rushed to the Emperor and handed him over Dondus in silence, before retreating as fast as possible.

"Oh Dondus, all of this is so unfair. Every time i desire something, he has to take it from me. Nothing truly belongs to me and me alone... it is alwas us", he mumbled with a shake in his voice, while he carefully took his monkey and placed him on a pillow as if it was his child.

Caracalla never treated anyone as careful and caring as he treated his pet monkey. In fact, he could be quite cruel, depending on his mood that changed rapidly between weird happiness and irrational anger. This little animal had more importance to him than any human life - well, except for yours of course. And everyone here knew this. The Emperor would never hurt Dondus, but it only took one outburst of hate for a slave or even a patrician to lose their head in an instant.

"I want her, my Poppea ... i cannot stand the thought of not having her...i cannot. I love you her you understand this, Dondus, don't you? No one understands me the way you do. She is an incarnation of Venus."

But Dondus just looked at him with his dark button eyes - how could a monkey understand love? And how could he understand, how much it pain it left in Caracalla.

____________________________

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[paulyenvol6]

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 6)

Contains: detailed smut, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, incest, body image issues, choking, gagging, praising, a little degrading, dom Daemon, sub reader, angst

Wordcount: ~3.37k

Masterlist of this story

He didn’t waste another second and kissed you aggressively. You both moaned against each other’s mouths and his hands ran over your body, searching for every inch of skin you offered him. In the meantime he pushed you to the table and blindly pushed a chair aside so that you could take a seat on the table.

His hands wrapped around your body and fumbled at the cording of your dress in your back to get the annoying fabric out of the way while your shaking hands tried to get his shirt off. Daemon’s hands were quick, demanding and unhesitatingly. In a matter of seconds he had pulled your dress down and you got up from the table so he could take it off completely. He threw it on the floor next to you without caring about where it landed and then took his tunica off.

You felt the need to touch his strong chest and ran your hands over his skin. Daemon closed his eyes at the feeling of your warmth while kissing and touching your chest. His fingers toyed with your nipple while his mouth took care of the other and you knew that this was what heaven must feel like. Then Daemon’s mouth quickly traveled up your body again until it was pressed against your jaw.

"Get down on your knees.", he growled. Even though you weren’t sure what exactly your uncle wanted you to do you obeyed him and stood up from the table. He guided you down and your knees hit the hard ground. You could see him watch you while he quickly tucked down his trousers and then there was his cock that stood hardened against his stomach. You looked up to him and Daemon wrapped his hand around his cock.

"Open your mouth, riña (girl).", he whispered and you parted your lips. You had your eyes on him while he slowly shoved his cock into your mouth. You hadn’t expected it to feel so soft and you could feel its weight on your tongue. You closed your lips around him and tried to breathe through your nose because right now there wasn’t a lot of air entering your lungs through your mouth. Daemon had inhaled  sharply and his hand was buried in your hair.

"Seven hells.", he growled and then pulled at your hair to signal you to move your head. You tried pulling off his cock and then letting him slide in again and by the sounds Daemon made he seemed to like it. Then, when you felt a little bolder your tongue played with his tip and you felt his grip on your hair tighten.

"Fuck. Oh my little owl. Doing so fucking good for me." You slightly grinned with his cock in your mouth and felt motivated to move faster. You bobbed your head on his cock and held on to his thigh to have some support. Your knees hurt incredibly on the stone ground but you didn’t care. Your only care right now was to please Daemon and it seemed like you were doing quite well.

"Ah.", he growled and his other hand that wasn’t in your hair gripped the edge of the table. "Oh fuck. What a good… fucking girl… you are."

You had lowered your gaze now and looked at his muscular stomach but Daemon pulled at your hair. "Look at me, Vhaela. Come on, I want to see your pretty face."

You forced yourself to look up to him even though it was hard for you with his cock in your mouth but you wanted to do as he said. Seeing you in front of him on your knees with your eyes interlocked with his‘ could almost make him come immediately. He moved his hips along with the movement of your head and thrusted into your mouth and with every push Daemon could feel himself moving closer to the edge.

"Huh.", he made. "Oh gods be fucking good.", he growled. You could feel him hit the back of your throat and struggled to fight your gagging reflex. He was so deep inside your mouth that tears welled up in your eyes and you had to force yourself to breathe. Out of reflex you tried to move away from him.

"Ah ah.", he whispered and held you tightly. "Don't fight me, little owl." His hand in your hair pushed you deeper on his cock and as much as it triggered your retching and it hurt, you liked it. You liked the feeling of his cock buried inside your mouth and the sounds you heard Daemon make, made you press your thighs together.

Then after one last twirl around his tip with your tongue he let out a deep moan and you felt him shoot his seed down your throat. You gagged and it was your reflex to move away from him but his grip on your head didn’t allow you to. You swallowed every drop of his seed and to your surprise it didn’t taste bad. Now you had closed your eyes but Daemon was too caught up in his pleasure to intstruct you not to and you could hear his heavy breathing.

Having found a liking in his taste you licked every ounce of his seed off his cock and then when you were done you looked up to your uncle again who watched you with a wide smirk. "Who would have thought that such an innocent, pure, little girl would turn out to be such a whore in the bedchambers.", he said, still slightly out of breath.

You blushed and droped your gaze while letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Daemon instantly grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up to your feet. He took hold of your chin, got close to your face and lifted his eyebrows.

"I remember telling you I want you to look at me and not the fucking ground.", he whispered slowly and even though he didn’t sound angry (but rather… playful?), you gulped. "I’m sorry."

Daemon let go of your hair and caressed the side of your face with his right hand while moving you towards the table. His forehead almost touched yours and then your back hit the edge of the table.

"My little Vhaela…", he whispered. "There’s so much I want to do to you." You once again pressed your legs together at his words and Daemon noticed and smirked.

"Poor girl. Are you craving a release, my love?" You smiled softly. He had never called you his love before and it made your insides flutter.

"Yes.", you answered him and then he suddenly pushed you onto the table and kneeled down in front of you. Daemon roughly opened your legs and looked at your cunt with darkened eyes. He sighed deeply with a smirk on his face and then buried his face inside your cunt. His tongue licked a long stripe through the wetness from your hole up to your pearl. He quietly moaned at your taste and moved your legs to lay on his shoulder so he could tightly hold on to your hips. His tongue toyed with your little nub and spread your wetness all over it.

It felt so good you wanted to scream. His warm tongue lapping against you. He was so quick, intense... simply skilled. Your breath was fastened and you buried your hands in his head so he wasn’t able to stop. As if he would now. Buried between your thighs, tasting your sweet nectar and those noises leaving your mouth. What else could a man want?

Daemon liked to be in control when it came to sex and he liked to be master of the situation. But right now as he was devouring your cunt he knew that he had lost control. There wasn’t anything on his mind anymore except the taste, smell and sight of your bare cunt and he didn’t care about teasing or messing with you anymore. He didn't care about edging or torturing you, he simply had to feel you everywhere.

Daemon then used his thumb to get the little hood that covered your pearl out of the way so there was nothing protecting it from his tongue. You whimpered loudly and threw your head back. "Daemon. Daemon, please."

"Yes.", he whispered. "Let me hear you, riña (girl)."

At some point you didn’t have the power to hold yourself up on the table so you laid down on your back. You could see stars while looking at the ceiling and restlessly moved your hips. You didn’t even know what for. Daemon was glued to your cunt and it wasn’t possible to get any closer to you. But you just couldn’t stay still so your uncle slapped the side of your ass.

"Stop moving around. I have no problems leaving you here lustful and unsatisfied if you can’t obey me." Of course Daemon lied. He indeed would have a problem leaving you now but his darkened eyes looking at you from between your thighs looked stern so you tried to stop. Him leaving you here now would be the worst thing you could think of at this moment and you tightly held on to his hair.

"I’m sorry. I’ll stop.", you whined and Daemon went back to work. His tongue truly was magical and now instead of moving your hips you threw your head from one side to the other while nibbing at your finger. You could taste blood after a while but didn’t care. You just needed to do something, hold on to something, get any kind of friction.

"Daemon.", you repeatedly whimpered not knowing what you wanted him to do besides never stopping licking your cunt. Soon after that you felt closer and closer to your high. The newly discovered knot in your stomach tightened and your uncle could sense the tension in your body as well. He fastened his pace, flicked your little nub and circled it quickly until you felt the knot explode and you were drowned in pleasure.

You let out a little shriek and Daemon reached out to cover your mouth with his hands. There probably weren’t a lot of people walking around in the Keep at that hour but Daemon knew how anxious you were about someone finding out about the two of you and so did it to protect you.

The pleasure you received made you breathe heavily against his palm and you could feel him lick every drop of your juices. Then, when Daemon sensed that your high had faded he put his hand off your mouth, swallowed the last droplet that glistened on your cunt and stood up to watch you.

You had your eyes closed and your hands were pressed against your forehead, right on your hairline. Sweat was covering your face and your cheeks were reddened from your ecstasy. He had never seen a creature looking more delightful and couldn’t hide a smirk. Of course he would’ve loved to edge you tonight. Shortly before you had been about to reach your high it would’ve been amusing to stop and bring you so close to the edge over and over again without letting you pass it. It would’ve been cruel, yes, but also an enjoyment for Daemon to watch. And yet he hadn’t done it as he was simply too eager to taste your high and eventually bury his cock deep in your warm hole. So he had decided to leave it for another night and brought you to your release.

Now he didn’t waste any time, stepped between your legs and ran the tip of his cock over your puffy and wet cunt. You’re half closed eyes opened wider again when you felt him against you and you shifted when he hit your overstimulated pearl.

"Please.", you whined. "What?", Daemon asked, sounding a little contemptous. "What do you want?"

He pulled you closer to the edge of the table on which you were still lying with your bare back touching the cold stone surface. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and crossed them behind his back thighs.

"Need to feel full.", you mumbled. With his left hand Daemon held you at your waist and his thumb stroke your soft skin. In the meantime his right guided his cock right to your throbbing hole that was so eager to be filled again.

And then, without a warning, Daemon pushed into you and you simultaneously moaned at the feeling. You felt a sharp pain in your core, like you did when you had first laid with him but this time it vanished as quickly as it had come. You thought that it felt even better than three nights ago because now after only few thrusts there wasn’t any kind of discomfort and you only felt full and content. Daemon filled you so well and hit that deep spot inside of you with almost every thrust. You both sighed and moaned loudly and he held you at your hips to meet his movements.

Then he leaned down to you and kissed you hungrily. Your hands found his hair again and you powerlessly tucked at his strands while Daemon’s hands caressed your cheek and neck and petted your burning skin. The kiss was sloppy and messy but exactly what the two of you needed at this moment.

Then his right hand moved to your neck and he wrapped it around it. You were surprised and panicked a little but Daemon soothingly kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Shhh…", he whispered while still moving deep inside of you. His grip around your throat became a little tighter and now you grabbed his hand that choked you. You pulled at it in an attempt to make him let go but Daemon didn’t and when you wanted to speak up, only a croak left your mouth.

"It’s alright, little owl. Relax.", he made but at first you desperately shifted underneath him. But yet you trusted him and so after a few seconds you did as he told you. You stopped fighting him and let go of his hand around your neck. You realised that Daemon’s grip wasn’t so tight that you would suffocate. He still let some air entering you but you continued to feel a little odd and were happy when his grip loosened after a few moments.

You inhaled deeply and enjoyed the fresh air filling your lungs. Daemon’s movements inside of you hadn’t stopped and now he kissed you right next to your ear.

"You have to relax when I do this.", he whispered and you moaned at a particulary sharp thrust deep inside you. "It’s more uncomfortable if you fight me. Just relax…and do as I tell you.", he whispered softly and you slightly nodded.

Your eyes were fluttering and you felt that it wouldn’t take you long until you would reach another high. His hand reached between your bodies and his thumb connected with your little pearl which made you struggle to keep your eyes open and you quietly cried out every time your uncle hit that spot inside you.

He could feel you clench around his cock which drove him closer to the edge as well. Then, with one last deep thrust inside of you and his tight circles around your nub, you let go and pleasure washed over you. You arched on the table and your eyes rolled back and at the same time Daemon reached his high with a groan.

"Oh fuck.", he moaned and collapsed on top of you. You felt his seed filling your cunt to the brim and now you didn’t even have the power to hold your legs wrapped around his back anymore so they fell to the ground. Daemon rested himself with one arm on either side of your face and had his face buried in your neck. You heard him pant loudly and his hair tickled your skin.

Then after a while you both had regained some of your strength and Daemon straightened up. He watched your fucked out body and smirked when he saw his seed leaking out of your hole and running down your leg. He slapped the side of your ass and then got himself dressed. "I think what you need now is taking a bath, little owl."

You got up as well and saw the room very fuzzily through your eyes. You gave yourself a moment until the flickering had vanished and then picked up your dress from the ground.

"Have you seen my badge with the sigil? It must’ve loosened from my shirt…" Daemon’s eyes searched the ground until he let out an "Ah.", and picked it up. His gaze wandered to you and he noticed that you hadn’t said a word in a while so he walked towards you and caressed your cheek.

"Everything fine?", he whispered with lifted eyebrows. You nodded but tears were swimming in your eyes which your uncle obviously noticed.

"Vhaela. What is it?" Yes, what was it? You looked down on your body and couldn't help but feel a lump in your throat. Because once again, there was this insecurity, this hate and disgust you felt about your own body. You didn't think you were beautiful and what a man wanted in a woman. Why did Daemon want you? Did he pity you? Or was he playing with you and wanted to make fun of you? Or, and you hadn't even thought about that yet, he wanted to provoke your father?

You looked to your hands and your voice sounded very quiet and thin. "I don't know why you desire to be with me." Daemon scoffed and came closer to you. "My little owl."

"No, I-I… I look like a boy and t-there's nothing feminine about me." Your uncle lifted your chin and his eyes looked determined so you would believe his next words.

"I thought I just made pretty clear that I want you, little one.", he whispered. "I can only speak for myself but I think you're rather pretty. Very much so. You are feminine and if you looked like a boy I wouldn't have just fucked you."

You chewed on your lower lip but still didn't look entirely convinced so Daemon sighed deeply.

"What do I have to say, mhm?" Your eyes wanted to escape his',  but he wouldn't let you. "Look at me, Vhaela.", he snapped. "I desire to lay with you. I desire to feel your good fucking mouth around my cock."

Daemon's eyes flashed and you exhaled deeply but then nodded. You still wouldn't say that he convinced you and had been able to make all your insecurities vanish with a few words but you felt a little lighter. The two of you had fucked twice now, why would he do it a second time if he didn't actually want to?

Your uncle raised his eyebrows. "Do you understand me?" You nodded and tried to lighten up a little. Well, there was also still this remaining little weight in your stomach that made you gulp but you couldn’t do anything about it. It was the guilt you felt from coupling with your uncle a second time, but at least you felt less bad than last time.

"I’m gonna bring you to your chambers, alright?" Daemon watched you intensely and his thumb ran over the area under your eye. You nodded again and let your uncle lace up your dress in your back.

Then the two of you walked to the door. Daemon opened it a crack, quickly peeked to see if someone was outside and then you stepped in the dark corridor. You were both silent as he led you upstairs to your chambers. There were guards now standing by the doors but you weren’t doing anything wrong walking around with your uncle so you didn’t care that they saw you. In case someone would find it suspicious you would simply have to come up with another explanation.

Then you stood in front of your door and Daemon opened and held it for you. You quickly slipped through it and he smirked at you.

"Sleep well, byka atroksia (little owl)."

[pharsalianostra]

Finals took me out for a bit, but I’m back, and I finally finished!!! Here’s Cleopatra and Livia in all their glory :)

Should I make one of Mark Antony and Octavian next??

Parallel Lives

To me, Cleopatra VII and Livia Drusilla are two sides of the same coin. They were born exactly ten years apart (Cleopatra in 69 BCE and Livia in 59 BCE), and were the female rulers of two of the most prominent Mediterranean powers of their time. Their families were deeply entwined: Julius Caesar was the father of Cleopatra’s son and Livia’s (adopted) father-in-law; Mark Antony was Livia’s brother-in-law through his marriage to Octavia; when Augustus conquered Egypt, he had Cesarion killed because he was a threat to Augustus’s apparent right to rule.

Both women grew up in a time of civil war and ended up on opposite sides of their families. Cleopatra openly fought her brother Ptolemy XIII and her sister Arinoe VI. Livia’s father and brother died fighting for Brutus and Cassius at Philippi. Her first husband sided with Fulvia and Lucius Antonius when they fought Augustus.

Both of them have been misrepresented by ancient sources and modern media.

Augustus’s propaganda hinged on the presentation of himself as a proper and modest Roman returning to tradition after so much civil war (other than the autocratic ruling ofc). He presented Livia as the ideal and perfect Roman matron, chaste, modest, and pious. He presented Cleopatra as the opposite. She represented the extravagance and backwardness of foreign monarchs. Augustus presented her as domineering over Antony, a reversal of the proper order (his slander of her was largely slander of Antony after all). And although Augustus publicly looked down on Egypt, he adopted many elements of Egyptian monarchy into his dynasty, such as the association of monarchs with gods—as Livia was associated with Ceres, Magna Mater, and Venus, Cleopatra mostly associated herself with Isis (who shares an origin with Venus).

Both were accused by historians of poisoning family members—Cleopatra her brother Ptolemy XIV among others, and Livia Augustus as well as a number of his heirs.

In modern media, Cleopatra is often seen as an over-sexualized seductress, Livia as a conniving and manipulative wife and mother.

Whether or not they did any poisoning, they were both incredibly intelligent and fascinating women and I love both of them a lot.

There are some of motifs in the drawing I want to point out:

- Cleopatra is wearing an Isis knot (the top layer of her dress), a common feature found in depictions of Ptolemaic queens that associates them with the goddess Isis

- She is also wearing a simple cloth diadem as often seen in depictions of Alexander the Great and all the dynasties that emulated him. It’s often seen in Cleopatra VII’s coinage

- She has the melon hairstyle, which she is seen with on coinage and in Roman sculpture. Apparently she popularized it among Roman women when she visited the city!

- Her snake bracelet and bull earrings are also common Ptolemaic motifs

- Livia is dressed like a proper Roman matron in her palla, stola, and tunica. The lack of jewelry is meant to show her modesty as well. Augustus and Livia went out of their way to present as a normal senatorial class couple rather than opulent foreign monarchs

- Her hair is in the iconic nodus style, as seen on basically all her statuary as well as that of other women in Augustus’s household such as Octavia

- Both Livia and Cleopatra are depicted holding cornucopias in their statuary. It associates them with fertility, wealth, and number of mother-goddesses. Pomegranates are a symbol of Juno and Proserpina, wheat and poppy sheafs are associated with Ceres. Wheat is also important because it was a resource Egyptian had in abundance and that Rome was desperate for. A lot of the politics between the two nations were based around that trade.

- And figs. Well, there are a lot of stories that get told about Cleopatra and Livia, many of which paint them with misogynistic stereotypes. Cleopatra’s death has long been the subject of speculation and fantasy. Shakespeare writes that she snuck the snakes she used to commit suicide past the Augustus’s men in a basket of figs. Livia has often been implicated in Augustus’s death. A popular version of that being that she poisoned him with figs. These two women are connected by the imagery and symbolism of the fruit: femininity and fertility, poison and death.

[yuahoeaiknow]

Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat

Wattpad || AO3

MDI c:

Pairing: Geta x OC x Caracalla

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────── Chapter 1 - Perhaps

The grand hall of the Imperial Palace was filled with the chatter and laughter of the nobles and officials gathered for the feast. The room was lit with fire bowls, torches and candles, casting a warm and inviting glow on the opulent decorations. Clusters of people were engaged in conversation or entangled in a bit more intimate activities, their faces flushed with wine and the heady thrill of the evening. In the center of it all was the long table that stretched the length of the hall, laden with food and drink. Slaves and servants moved about silently and efficiently, refilling cups and replenishing platters.

The feast was underway, dignitaries from different countries present and the palace bustled with activity. A few eyes seemed to be on the young woman walking in with the arms-dealer, Macrinus. She walked with a confident poise and a sly smile, a smirk of mischief dancing on her painted lips. Her light green tunica flows down to her ankles with strange elegance and was held by a golden belt with golden feathers and leaves.

The concubines, draped in their most lavish dresses for the occasion cast jealous and surprised looks between each other, whispering behind their silken fans. The servants found themselves stopping for a moment, gazes lingering on the new arrival. Seeing the living legend Cica themselves.

As soon as the girl got a good overview of the event she merches with the crowd, leaving Macrinus to his own business.

She moved through the throng of people as if she owned the place, an unseen grace to her, drawing eyes to her as she went. Mostly because of her scarred face which still held so much beauty. Concubines whispered and pointed, and even a few of the higher ranking guests couldn't help but stare. But none of that seemed to bother her. With each step she took, her movements became more relaxed but never sloppy. She knew, she was the target of many gazes and that she stood out like a jewel amongst rocks.

Perceptive as he was, Emporer Geta heard the whispers of the courtesans surrounding him. Their hushed voices carried the air of gossip and intrigue as they discussed the newcomer. He smirked to himself, his dark eyes scanning the room, searching for the woman who had caused such a stir.

He was curious, just like his twin with the girl. Finally something new in this fest of routines. He wondered who she was, where she came from and what she was doing with the businessman, since he never saw her before.

"Who is the girl? You all seem to know her somehow.", Geta asked with a raised brow to the concubines on Caracallas side, ignoring his one next to him.

The men murmured amongst themselves, their eyes flicking to each other before turning to Geta. One spoke up, his voice carrying a hint of awe and a touch of gossip.

"That's Cica, my lord. She's a legend on the streets." Another added, "She's a prodigy gambler, they say she can turn a losing board to a winning one with a single move."

"Not only that," a third spoke up. "She's made a fortune on the tables, all by herself!"

"She got stabbed multiple times and survived!"

"A Praetorian accused her of fraud and wanted to cut off her hand but he stumbled and let the sword fall, so she got away."

"She's blessed by Fortuna!"

The courtesans speak in hushed tones.

Geta raised an eyebrow at the tales of the woman named Cica. He had thought her a simple outsider, a pretty face amongst courtiers and dignitaries, maybe a relative of some General or Senator but the gossip he heard spoke of something more.

"Blessed by Fortuna, you say?" he mused, his tone intrigued. "Certainly just exaggerated gossip of the streets...", he disregards them all while rubbing his lip.

Caracalla who was engrossed with playing with his pet monkey, Dondus, looked up at his brother and smirked, noticing the interest in those dark brown eyes.

"Nonetheless, it seems like she's caught your eye, brother.", Caracalla chuckled, playing with Dondus' little dress tenderly.

Geta shot his brother a sidelong glance, his expression a mix of annoyance and mild resentment. "She's nothing but a passing interest...", he replied, turning his gaze back to the crowd, trying not to glance her way.

Emporer Caracalla chuckled again, clearly not convinced. "Is that so?", he taunted. "You've been staring at her since the whispers started." Geta's annoyance grew at his brother's teasing. "I'm not the only one, at last." he retorted, gesturing briefly to the other guests who had taken notice of this street legend.

Caracalla smirked, enjoying winding up his brother. "But you're the only one trying to pretend you don't care~" he sing-songed, continuing to play with his little friend.

Geta has enough of this wastful conversation with his twin and waves Macrinus over. The businessman, seeing the subtle gesture, excused himself from another conversation with a Senator and made his way over to the two emperors.

Geta's gaze was intense as he looked at Macrinus, his expression a mix of curiosity and authority. "Who is the woman you brought with you?", he demanded straight, his voice firm.

Macrinus, accustomed to the emperors' brusque manners, replied without a hint of intimidation. "That would be Cica, Emporer.", he said with a slight smile.

Caracalla leaned back in his seat, listening to the exchange with an amused glint in his eyes. He continued stroking Dondus, the monkey now contentedly perched on his shoulder.

Geta's gaze was fixed on the businesman, his dark eyes narrowing. "Cica." he repeated, as if not heard before from the concubines. "She's quite... captivating."

Macrinus chuckled softly, a knowing look on his face. "I'd say that's an understatement, my lord."

"Tell me, why do you bring a street rat in our palace?", asked Geta with sharp tongue and stare.

Macrinus remained unflustered, his gaze steady as he spoke. "Oh, she's not a street rat, my lord, not anymore.", he replied. "She's more than meets the eye."

Geta raised an eyebrow, his irritation growing at the arms-dealer's vague responses. "Explain!"

"She was a street rat, now she has a villa in Ostia and servants. She is Benefactrix to the temples of Fortuna. Cica asked me, where she could bet and gamble without much restriction, and as the good friend I am, I brought her here to indulge.", Macrinus stated honestly.

The younger twin's annoyance was replaced with intrigue at the mention of Cica's title. "A Benefactrix to the temples of Fortuna...", he repeated, his eyes flickering with intrigue. That means she really had to be wealthy.

Caracalla, still casually playing with Dondus, added: "And she asked to bet and gamble here? Seems like she's looking for a challenge."

Macrinus chuckled. If they only knew. Cica has more in mind and so did he.

"Always. Sometimes I think she likes to hurt egos of men more than the wealth.", Macrinus admitted.

Geta smirked at the revelation, his irritation fading into amusement. "Oh, so it's not just about the money. She enjoys shattering male pride as well.", he mused. Caracalla, intrigued, said: "Quite the combination. Greed, skill, and a touch of malicious pleasure."

"I'm skeptic about telling her about the gladiator fights. She will be out of her mind.", spoke Macrinus with a knowing smile.

Geta's interest was piqued even further. "The games are free, why would do you think she'd be interested in the gladiators now?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with a newfound excitement but also mistrust.

Caracalla chuckled, his eyes still fixed on Cica as she talked with a group of sons of noble men. "Why do I have a feeling she'll be more than just interested?"

"Because there is bets to win. Not for the bloodshed.", Geta answers in thought.

"Hard to say. Cica is unlike any other woman I have met. I can't tell what's going on in this pretty head of hers. Despite money and mischief. I just know that she never set foot in to the Colosseo.", Macrinus expressed with a shrug.

Geta chuckled at the description, his initial irritation replaced by a growing fascination. "Hmm.", he mused.

His older twin smirked, his gaze still on Cica. "Sounds like my kind of woman, bring the street rat here!" he yells, a hint of mischief in his tone.

The room grew more quiet and the brunette girl perked up, looking to Macrinus in surprise, who in turn waved her over. Cica made her way through the crowd, her stride confident and cautious, her eyes darting amongst the dignatries, eyeing before looking ahead.

As she approached Geta and Caracalla, she could feel their gazes on her, their eyes roaming over her figure and face.

She bowed down a bit as greeting. "My Caesars."

Geta's gaze roamed over her, up and down and kept hanging on her freckled face. The scar under her eye prominent now that she's near. "Cica. A fitting name as I see.", he snorts in conclusion. Cicatrix meaning scar. Was she born with that thing, why else would she be named like that? Or was ist just a nickname signed by the gutters.

Caracalla being the more playful of the two brothers, smirked, his eyes lingering on her a bit more than his brother's. "You're quite the talk of the palace."

"Is that so? Yeah, I see familiar faces around here. I almost didn't recognize you without a dick in your mouth, Rufus.", she addresses one of the male whores behind Caracalla.

Macrinus face palms himself. He should've talked about her running mouth before the event. But he knows that she can behave, simply refuses to... even before the Emperors - reckless as ever.

The courtesans around them gasped, their eyes widening in shock at Cica's boldness. Even the outcalled courtesan, Rufus, seemed a little flustered at the comment.

Caracalla, however, found himself more amused than offended. His smirk widened, as he looked at the brunette with even more interest. "You've got a mouth on you, don't you?"

"Streets were rough, of course. But others use their mouth for other purposes.", she grinned, showing slightly chipped front teeth. "I just like to be honest and forward, my lord."

Geta's eyebrows rose at the audacity of her words but Caracalla let out a rich laugh, his smirk turning into a wide grin, golden tooth appearing. "Oh, I like her!", he chuckled, nodding his head in approval.

The courtesans around them whispered among themselves, shocked at the scene that was unfolding before them. No one ever talks to the Emperors that way without losing their tongue.

Caracalla, the more impulsive one, leans forward, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "You gambled all your way into wealth, from rags to riches. Quite the story."

Cica smirked: "That's just the surface of it."

Geta, the more aloof and calculating of the two, eyed her with a mix of intrigue and skepticism. "And what's beneath the surface?"

"Vengeance.", she answered with a sickening sweet smile.

There was a pause at her response, both brothers sharing a brief look of surprise and curiosity.

"Vengeance? Against whom?", Geta inquired, his gaze fixed intently on her.

"A girl keeps quiet and enjoys. But worry not. It's not you, my Emperors.", she smiled now more honestly.

Caracalla giggled at her words, clearly entertained by her cryptic response. But Geta's gaze grew more intense, his eyes scanning her face for any hint of deception.

"You're a woman of many secrets, Cica.", he said, his tone slightly admonishing but mostly curious. Cica merely shrugs, her smile remaining unchanged. "The world is full of secrets, Caesars. Not all are worth sharing..."

Caracalla laughed again, amused by her answer but Geta's glare sharpened, his irritation returning. He was not used to a woman withholding information from him. Actually anyone denying him something and he didn't like it very much.

"You have a bold tongue, street rat!", he grumbled with a hint of coldness in his voice. "But I suggest you mind your words and remember with whom you're speaking with. Otherwise I'm letting it cut out of your mouth and giving you new scars for instance."

Macrinus intervened, sensing the growing tension between Cica and Geta. "My lords, I apologize. Cica, perhaps it would be wise to choose your words more carefully in front of Gods."

Caracalla, ever the mischief maker, can't help but egg the situation on. "Oh, I don't know, I quite enjoy her bold demeanor. Would be a shame if that tongue dulls a blade."

She smiled and shrugged a shoulder at Marcrinus in a knowing manner.

The black man shot her a warning look, shaking his head slightly. He was about to usher her away when the older twin spoke up again.

"No no, let her stay!", Caracalla demanded, his manic gaze fixed on the girl. Thinking about how his twin wasn't interested as he said... "Come with me in the garden, Cica! I want to talk to you more.", he proposed as he jumps up from his seat. Dondus still on his shoulder, clawing in his robes due to the sudden movement.

The brunette looks a bit surprised but took his hand nonetheless.

Caracalla lead her towards the imperial garden. His steps jolly and his grip firm, though not uncomfortable. Dondus, the monkey, chittered softly on his shoulder, as if also intrigued by her presence.

Once they were away from the prying eyes and ears of the banquet, he stopped and turned to face her, a smirk on his face.

"You're an interesting one, Cica.", he started, his eyes roaming over her face, taking in her every feature, especially her scar. "No court lady would speak to us Emperors like you just did."

"No court Lady comes from the streets, I assume. Don't get me wrong Macrinus and a tutor supervised me in court behaviour and I can keep faces... if I want to...", she explained and watched the plants in the moonlight. "But I simply don't like it. Can't imagine doing this my whole life.... must be annoying.", she sighed and looked at him again.

Caracalla chuckled, leaning back against a nearby column. "Annoying is putting it mildly. It's more like slowly being suffocated by etiquette and false pleasantries. You have a refreshingly blunt approach, to say the least."

As Dondus squeaked from his shoulder, he scratched the monkey behind its ear affectionately.

"Is it a boy or a girl?", she abandoned the thread before. Now she glanced at the monkey with big eyes. Was the little thing there the whole time? She didn't really pay attention until now - too tangled in the conversations.

Caracalla followed her gaze to Dondus, a fond smile forming on his lips. "He's a boy and my best friend!", he replied. "His name is Dondus."

Dondus, sensing her attention, squeaked again and chittered softly, curiously eyeing Cica. Caracalla chuckled and patted the monkey's head soothingly.

"Well, good evening, Dondus! I'm Cica!", she grinned. "I've never seen such a small monkey! I always tried to see animals at the macella but the aediles always told me off...", she confessed to him and watched Dondus with a child like fascination.

Dondus, vice versa fascinated by her friendly interest, chittered back, his little eyes sparked with curiosity.

Caracalla laughed softly at her enthusiasm. "He might be small but he's full of personality. He can be mischievous too."

As Dondus hopped off Caracalla's shoulder, he scurried closer to Cica, seemingly drawn to her presence.

"You sound like an interesting companion, little man.", she bend down to Dondus and hold out her hand for him to sniff.

Dondus, intrigued by her hand, scurried closer and sniffed at her fingers, his little nose twitched as he took in her scent. Caracalla watched with amusement as Dondus became increasingly interested in the girl just like him.

"He seems to like you!", he observed, a smile on his face. "He's usually more wary of strangers."

"Oh, does he eat faces?", she looked up at Caracalla with a genuine interest and giggled as the little monkey noses her fingers.

Caracalla laughed heartily at her question, amused by her curiosity. "No, Dondus is much more tame than that..." he pouted. "Though he has a habit of stealing fruit when given the chance."

As Dondus continued to explore Cica's hand, he gently grabbed her index finger with his tiny hand and then proceeded to nibble on it.

"Sounds like we have something in common, Dondus!", she grinned and scratched his chin carefully.

Dondus squeaked softly, clearly enjoying the chin scratches, and nuzzled his little body against her hand.

Caracalla watched this interaction, his smile widened as he saw how comfortable Dondus has become with her. "Well, you certainly have a talent for winning over my little friend here."

"Not to boast but I have an overall talent for winning.", she winked playfully. "But I'm glad I'm winning you over, little man!", she said in her animal voice that she always used for stray cats and dogs.

Dondus chittered softly, his attention now fully on Cica. He climbed onto her hand, seemingly content to stay there as she continues scratching his chin with the other.

Caracalla raised an eyebrow, amused by her antics. "You're certainly full of surprises, street rat!" he said, a hint of admiration in his tone. "Not just a talented gambler, but a charmer of animals too."

She stood up slowly and looked at the Emperor. "Animals were my only true friends in the streets. More loyal than any human."

Caracalla's smile slowly disappeared, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. "I get that. Animals can be better companions than people sometimes. They don't have agendas or ulterior motives. They just accept you for who you are."

As the silence settled around them, Dondus continued to cling to Cica's hand, his little body curling up against her palm. The moment felt strangely intimate, with the moon casting a soft light over them.

The silence wass broken by cheers and low murmurs from the banquet.

Caracalla perked up and grabbed her hand again. "Come the fight starts!"

As she was pulled back into the aula, she pressed Dondus carefully to her chest, so he wouldn't fall from her arm.

She wanted to ask what fight he talked about but she decided to just let her drag there and see for herself.

The ginger lead her back to the banquet room, where the excitement wass palpable in the air. People were cheering and chattering eagerly, their gazes fixed on the center of the room.

As they approached, Cica could see that space was cleared up in the middle of the room, surrounded by spectators. Two men were already engaged in combat, fighting with swords and shields.

Caracalla turned to her with a grin. "A Gladiator fight. The best entertainment after a good meal."

He pulled her to his throne to watch from there. In his enthusiasm he seated her on his lap as he would do with Dondus.

Cica didn't mind. Already caught up in the fight before her. Thinking about betting. Do they even bet on such inofficial fights? She had to ask Macrinus when time saw fit. Now she'll enjoy the new found opportunity without further thought.

As she sat on the Emperor's lap, he could feel the excitement radiating off her. He chuckled softly at how enthralled she was by the fight, finding her enthusiasm endearing.

The two gladiators clashed swords, their movements fluid and precise. The sound of clashing steel filled the room, mingling with the cheers of the audience.

Geta watched his brother and the girl out of the corner of his eyes and squinted. Not fond of that picture.

Caracalla leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Care to wager on who wins?"

"Hm...", she hummed as she thought. "I think the one with the large scar on his chest."

Cica unconciously let go of Dondus who sat down on the armrest beside her, rather uninterested about the fight.

Caracalla laughed softly at her pick, impressed by her choice. "You're observant. That one's been in many fights before."

The audience around them cheered and whispered.

"You have a good eye for this!", Caracalla praised her, his hand resting on her waist, subconsciously drawing her closer.

Geta interjected. "It's rather obvious who wins. Fighter with scars have likely survived another fight. Of course you would pick him, since they both have the same statue.", he mansplained annoyed.

Caracalla shot his brother a mildly irritated look, his grip on Cica's waist tightening a fraction. The light green material rustled under his pale fingers. "Don't be such a spoilsport, Geta. What got you so grouchy?", he teased then looked back at the brunette, his gaze lingering on her face. "Besides, I wouldn't underestimate her abilities just yet. Such reputation does not come from nothing."

"Tssk... Abilities... apparently it's all just luck.", Geta spat in hope to anger his brother and the street rat but both were too engrossed in the two fighter. Which further upset Geta as he rested his head on his hand on the armrest.

The fight continued, the two gladiators exchanging blows. The crowd cheered and gasped with each strike and parry.

Cica watched intently, her gaze flickering from the gladiators to Caracalla and Geta. She could feel the tension between the brothers but she kept her focus on the fight as much as she could.

But it seemed that there was not only tension between the gingers as she felt Caracallas erection under her butt. A slight blush came over her freckled cheeks and she tried to focus again on the fight.

Caracalla's hand around her waist was getting a little possessive now, subconsciously pressing her closer to him, causing her to feel his tension even more.

He seemed to be oblivious to what he was doing to her or not giving a care at all, watching the fighting still with all his attention span.

The combat reached a climax, with the scar-chested gladiator delivering a series of strong blows, ultimately overpowering and knocking the other fighter to the ground.

The crowd exploded into applause and cheers.

Caracalla released her waist, clapping his hands together with a smug look on his face. "Looks like your pick was the right one." She also clapped, feeling happy that she got to witness such entertainment. Feeling proud that she even managed to be there at all.

"I hope to get to pick more in the future, my lord!", she responded with a twinkle in her green eyes.

Caracalla, engrossed by her enthusiasm, grinned at her. "Oh, I think you will have many opportunities to pick winners in the future. Perhaps you can become my personal lucky charm."

He gently squeezes her thigh, his hand lingering there a bit longer than necessary.

She grinned at him. "If you're lucky enough, perhaps!"

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────

benefactrix = female doer of good, female benefactor giving financial or social support

aula = hall, saloon, room

macella = market

aediles = enforcer of pubilc order

[quitealotofsodapop]

Esta hurgando mis viejas libretas y encontre estos bocetos de Sun Wukong book acuratte que hice hace tiempo.

La pequeña Shihou sentada en un arbolito

Mi diseño de Sun Wukong en el viaje, he leido que en el principo del viaje mata a un tigre y usa su piel como vestimenta y como un tigre es enorme se la enrroya como tunica/vestido

y un boceto que tome prestada la pose de un dibujo para practicar de @/journey-to-the-au Amo su version del viaje del oeste djnsadkjsnad

translated via google:

"I was rummaging through my old notebooks and found these sketches of Sun Wukong book acuratte that I made a while ago. Little Shihou sitting on a little tree My design of Sun Wukong on the journey, I've read that at the beginning of the journey he kills a tiger and uses its skin as clothing and since a tiger is huge he wraps it around him like a tunic/dress and a sketch that I borrowed the pose from a drawing to practice from @/journey-to-the-au I love his version of the journey to the west djnsadkjsnad"

and i love these drawings!

I love how "monkey-like" you make Female!Wukong/Shihou. Adorably short and chubby.

More things I love; how her eyebrows curl like the circlet, how the tiger-sking skirt is instead a tunic (because it fits so large on her), and just how fierce she looks even at her short height! <3

[starshideurfics]

Captive, Captivating, part 2

part 1

into the steddie-verse, omegaverse, dubcon, we’re all in the same imperial rome/war prize gutter together, mdni 🔞

It takes nearly three quarters of an hour for Geta’s knot to go down, and he smiles smugly as his pretty little omega wriggles in place. The way he shifts just so, startling at his body’s reaction, the clench and pulse of being stretched open so perfectly for the first time.

Geta pets over Stepan’s flank, cups the firm cheeks of his round bottom, thinking about how nice it will feel to slam his hips against that plushness when he has his omega present and takes him from behind. How deep he will be able to delve into that sweet cunt to sow his seed. Deep enough it has to catch.

He refrains from slipping his fingers between those cheeks, no matter how much he wants to stroke over the tight furl of Stepan’s asshole. To make him shiver. To whisper, ‘All your holes will be mine, and soon enough you will beg for me to fuck you here.’ His barbarian prince has been through enough for the morning, Geta does not actually wish to terrorize him, especially not with all he has planned for the rest of the day.

Once he finally slips free, Geta plucks up Stepan’s cast aside loincloth, the linen roughspun, and uses it to wipe his cock clean. He smirks when he notices the pale streaks of red mixed with the slick and seed; their couplings will be easier now his maidenhead is broken.

Stepan has curled up on his side, legs squeezed tightly together, arms wrapped around his chest. Geta grips his knee, whispers, “I need to see, mellitus. Make sure the bleeding has stopped.”

He does not speak, simply allows Geta to lift his leg and bare his cunt. The lips are puffy, must be sore, and he’s careful as he gently feels around Stepan’s entrance, pleased to only find slick and seed when he pulls his fingers back. He sucks the shine from them, revels in the taste of them both mixed on his tongue, bitter and sweet and musky, and slowly lowers the omega’s leg. Draping the sheets back over Stepan, Geta stands, pulls on a robe, and goes to the entrance to the tent, ordering hot water and a wash basin be brought at once, along with food to break their fast after.

Sitting at his desk, Geta looks over the reports that will leave with the morning’s courier. He considers scribbling a note to his mother, to tell her of his plans, but quickly thinks better of it. There is little she can do for him from the capital, and surprise will be far more helpful to him when it comes to his brother.

When the water arrives, he tends to himself first, only really worrying about his groin as he washes away the last bits of drying cum. Then he returns to his bed, offering Stepan a hand, and helping him to his feet. Geta has the omega stand in the basin, and drags a warm, wet cloth over his body, washing away the dirt and sweat and slick. He’s nearly finished when Stepan stops his hand, trapping the cloth at his hip. “I can see to myself, Dominus.”

Geta preens at the word, how easily Stepan has begun using the title. My lord. Master. “And I care for what is mine.” Still, he passes the cloth to Stepan, watches as he wipes gingerly between his legs. It’s such a waste, washing all that beautiful slick away when Geta would happily lap it up and swallow it down. But there is not time for such indulgences.

Fetching a larger cloth, he wraps Stepan in it and squeezes his shoulders. “Dry well,” Geta orders, going to dig through a trunk and retrieving a tunica in deep, rich blue, tossing it casually onto the bed. He plucks a wooden comb from a side table, and returns to Stepan, careful as he pulls the fine teeth through his hair. He starts at the ends, working his way up to the roots, breaking up strands held together by sweat and oil, detangling a small knot at his nape. Once he’s satisfied with his work, Geta turns him towards the bed. “Dress. Quickly if you do not wish Caius to see your pretty ass when he brings our food.”

Geta does not take his own advice, robe open and showing off his soft cock, unbothered by his servants seeing him in any state of undress. His focus is again on compiling his reports, rolling up scrolls and slipping them in the courier’s case. He hands the case to Caius after he sets down the tray of roasted goat, bread, dates, and wine that is to be the morning meal.

Caius bows as he is dismissed, casting a furtive eye over to Stepan, the omega looking every inch a prince now he is so richly dressed. Geta suddenly desperately wants to gild him—gold at his throat and wrists, on his fingers, at his ankles and on his head, a chain dripping rubies and pearls around his waist…

Soon enough he will show off his prize, but first, he must stick to his plan.

Which first now means filling his stomach. He takes one chair next to the small table, nods to the other. “Sit. Eat.”

Stepan does as he’s told, his bites small. Even with his nerves quelling his appetite he must be hungrier than that. But Geta does not worry. He will ensure his omega feeds himself properly at the evening’s feast.

His own hunger sated, Geta retrieves a tunica for himself, this one in imperial purple, dressing to meet with an equal, even if Ricardius Spear-Handed is a lesser king of a small kingdom. He finishes with a gold circlet in his hair. He almost realizes too late that Stepan is barefoot, and fetches him a pair of leather sandals that tie in place at his ankle.

“Come, Stepan,” he whispers, offering his hand again, which the omega lightly grips, fingers loose. “A runner has already been sent ahead, and we had best be on our way. Your father will be expecting us.”

🌙🏛️🌿

The roman puts Stepan on a gentle mare, the horse following easily behind his own stallion. Silently, he takes in the familiar forest road, the verdant life and scents of his home in summer surrounding him. At least for the length of the journey he can pretend that this is any other day—that he will go home to sleep in his own nest when night falls, and this will all have been a strange dream.

But it’s not so. He will leave with the romans and almost certainly never return to his homeland. And he shall do so gladly if it will buy safety for his people. If it will keep his siblings from being sent into a losing battle.

His father’s hall comes into view and Stepan wants to leap from his horse and run inside. To fling himself into his mother’s arms and weep against her breast.

The dull ache between his legs is a potent reminder of why he cannot. His master has despoiled him, his value now locked to what this one alpha wants with him.

Fortunately, they do not need to wait long, his father’s personal guard coming out to meet them and escort the romans before their king. But Dominus is the one to offer Stepan his hand and help him from the mare’s back. “I have not chained you to my side, little prince,” he whispers in his ear. “You may go to your parents when we enter the hall. They are sure to be worried after your wellbeing.” He presses a soft kiss just below Stepan’s ear, like he can’t help himself from taking this small liberty. “Show them you are unharmed.”

“Yes, Dominus,” Stepan whispers back, dropping his hand and turning toward to doors.

Yakiv waits there, Master of the Guard, the man who taught Stepan how to hold a sword, to defend himself with a dagger. The one who carried him home when he fell from an apple tree at 8 years old and broke his arm, the one to hear Ravna’s shrieking when all he could do was lie on the ground and whimper in pain.

Stepan keeps his pace even as he crosses to meet him, Yakiv grabbing him by the shoulders as soon as he’s close enough. “Oh, pup, what did you do?”

“I was only… I know the woods so well! I only wanted to come back with information, but-” Stepan stops, swallows, lowers his voice back to just above a whisper. “I was angry. And I thought it would be more help than it was, and I got caught.”

“Yes. You did.” The disappointment in Yakiv’s scent burns in his nose. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

“I know. But the romans knew of Father…”

“And your Latin is good.”

“Yes. And I’m an omega.”

The disappointment turns to concern, but Yakiv does not ask. He simply gathers Stepan to him in a bear hug, then ushers him into the hall.

His parents sit on their thrones, waiting, but as soon as he’s through the doors, his mother—stepmother, but the only mother he can remember—is on her feet, rushing to meet him. She kisses his cheek and wraps her arms around him. “Styopa, my heart, what happened? We’ve been sick with worry.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.” He hides his face against her shoulder. “But I’m all right. Everything will be all right now.”

“Styopa…” His mother doesn’t say anything more, she simply strokes his hair, kisses his forehead, and leads him back to the dais. She takes her seat, and he stands behind her, at her left shoulder.

Even though it is normally beneath his duties, Yakiv announces the roman’s entrance, Dominus followed by his own guards and contingent of soldiers. “My king,” he calls, “Caesar Septimius Geta thanks you for your hospitality and for welcoming him so quickly.”

Stepan’s blood turns to ice as he finally understands.

He is Emperor Severus’s younger son. Brother to Emperor Caracalla. Heir to the whole of the Roman Empire until his brother finally has children of his own.

And he wants Stepan.

The room tilts on its axis, and Stepan only stays upright by clutching at the backrest of the queen’s throne. His father will surely reprimand him for the disrespect, and for showing weakness in front of a foreign ruler. If only his father knew how weak he has already been before Geta.

How little he has to hide.

“Well met, Caesar!” Rikhardt calls, smiling as the roman advances. “Your emissary claims you come with terms of peace. Terms far fairer than our neighbors have been granted.”

Geta smiles with too many teeth. “I do, Rikhardt Spear-Handed. Bend the knee to Rome, and retain all your rights and sovereignties as king here. You will have the protection of Rome without giving up any of your lands or powers.”

Stepan looks to his father, sees his skeptical smile, knows the offer sounds too good to be true.

“And what do you ask of me, Septimius Geta?”

“I, of course, require that you offer hospitality and safe passage to any roman citizen passing through your lands, that you give quarter to legionnaires on campaign, and…” Geta pauses, glances around the room, dark eyes locking with Stepan’s for a long moment before he turns his attention back to the king. “I ask for your eldest son’s neck. I wish to take Stepan as my mate.”

A mating is more than a marriage, especially amongst romantic nobles as far as Stepan has learned. A marriage is an arrangement between families, built on politics and trade rather than attraction or intimacy. Stepan had not thought he would even be offered marriage, just the comfort of being a pampered concubine, one who could be a spy because who cares what is said before an unlearned foreigner.

But a mating—

“Stepan, come,” Rikhardt says, motioning with two fingers, and Stepan rushes to comply, certain he’s missed some of the conversation as he circles around to stand beside him.

“Yes, Father?”

Rikhardt takes Stepan by the hand, looks up into the eyes that match his own, and asks, “Do you accept this alpha’s offer for your neck?”

Stepan does not hesitate in his answer. There is no other choice. “I do.”

“Good. Then it is what shall be!” Rikhardt stands, puts an arm around Stepan’s shoulder, and turns his gaze back onto Geta and his wolfish grin. “We shall prepare the wedding feast, for tonight you will marry him before our gods, and then his neck will be yours.”

Part 3

[theromaboo]

The first chapter of My Immortal, but instead of Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, it's Julius Caesar!

CHapter 1.

AN: Special thankz 2 my bf (maybe in that way??) ciCero, OPtimatesAreBest666SPQR 4 helpin me wif da story nd speling. U ROK.

Hi my name is G’aius Ju’lius Caes’ar and I used to have thick, lusty, toucheble hair of unknown color (haha quirky am i rite?) and inky black eyes like black orbs. I’m not related to M. Tullius Cicero but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie (AN: If u dont know who he is get da hell out of here). I’m from like 50 BC but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I'm also a dictater in perpetuum but not in the dysyopian YA novel way. I also became a god after I was stabbed (lolzz spoiler alurt) I wear a loose girdle and Sulla called me an ‘ill-girted boy’. I did a really cool thing recently (u know, Gaul thingz) and I’m currently dressing to flex about it. For example today I was wearing a laurel wreath and a toga picta and a tunica palmata. I was walking through Rome. It was not the Ides of March, which I was very happy about. A lot of plebs stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

“Hey Caes’ar!!” shouted a voice. I looked up… it was Marcus Junius Brutus!

“What’s up Brutus?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he said shyly.

But then, I heard my friends call me and I had to go away.

AN: IS it good? PLZ tell me plebzz.

[domusplautii]

After many hours, here is Titus Lartius, one of my Roman OCs from my current WIP.

A few notes about his outfit under the cut :)

This is my first time drawing Titus (besides a couple of sketches to get a feel for his face shape etc) AND the first time I’ve drawn a toga - which let me just say, is the most inexplicable item of clothing I have ever tried to understand. I think I get it now, but still - I have questions.

Technically, this is a trabea, the formal dress for members of the equites (knights) which is described as having horizontal stripes. Every recreated version (either illustration or re-enactment) I found online had the stripes limited to the actual toga itself as here; but that doesn’t really warrant calling them horizontal in my opinion - and makes them look pretty much the same as the senatorial toga to me. With no contemporary images (that I’m aware of) to reference, I made free with the tunica, and put stripes there, too, which are definitely horizontal.

Side note, togas were made bright white for special occasions by applying chalk; so I’ve tried to capture some sense of that but that too was tricky.

I really want to draw more togas in future in colours with stripes and patterns because coloured togas would’ve been more common among the wealthy, and I love colour :)

Here is the statue I used as main reference:

[Photo is mine; he’s at Ostia Antica, Italy.]

[siravalondulac]

elle sand

-clothing as the golden paladin

elle's outfits in the riverlands are compiled from whatever she gets her hands on

as helena describes it: "a dirty white linen shirt under a dirty brown woollen tunica, paired with a pair of dirty dark brown pants and dirty worn-out boots"

(girl is struggling)

her signature green cloak of course

it's light, comfortable, and combined with her hair quickly marks her out as the golden paladin

(although she does loose it in chapter 18) (almost like there is a thematic reason for that)

her hair just does whatever

she only ties the upper half back to keep it out of her face

the new fit she gets from florian

beautiful, intricate, and ruined in chapter 18 (the theeeeeme guysss)

it has a very "elven" look to it, familiar yet distinctly foreign

elle absolutely adores the tunica, especially its embroidery

benjiamin gives her yet another new fit after the last was destroyed

stand-out is the blue tunica - expensive, beautiful, and definitely not her style

but she keeps it for some reason

the style is similar to the clothing benjiamin's father brought with him from essos

traditional yi-ti dress she got from helena at cherrycross

(yi-ti is based on imperial china, therefore the hanfu)

it doesn't fit her correctly, as her and helena have very different body types

but she really likes it

and it's blue to fit with her eyes!

the dress she wears at the ball in chapter 16

something simple, meant to leave lots of room for movement

found very spontaneously

green to symbolise her being the paladin

THE dress

worn after the liberation of florian's castle in chapter 10

the most beautiful and intricate and detailed and expensive and unique gown elle has ever seen

good comparison would be the "dress as golden as the sun" from the fairytale allerleirauh

definitely made with magic

despite her looking like a gremlin half the time, elle actually really loves dresses, so this was a breathtaking experience for her

seemingly made out of pure gold

yet comfortable and light as a feather

[calirph]

Gaius Augustus' golden and white tunic (1x02 domina)

Seppia's blue and gold tunica (spartacus vengeance 2)

Livia Drusilla's blue and red tunics (domina 1x08)

General Acacius black and red armor (Gladiator II)

Johnny Lawrence season favorite (season 3).

Daniel LaRusso favorite karate kid movie (karate kid 1).

Seppius' lilac and violet tunic and toga (spartacus vengeance 1)

Alicent Hightower' green and gold two piece dress (HOTD 1x08)

Upcoming gifsets just to keep them somewhere because I will forget about them.

[kimludcom]

SPECIFICATIONSBrand Name: NoEnName_NullElasticity: Non StrechSleeve Style: regularFabric Type: PolyesterPattern Type: SolidFit Type: LOOSESilhouette: LOOSENeckline: Turn-down CollarDecoration: NONEStyle: CasualDresses Length: Knee-LengthMaterial: COTTONMaterial: PolyesterMaterial: SPANDEXAge: MIDDLE AGEOrigin: Mainland

[emiliyalane]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Women TART tunica dress sz medium.

[lavetirdresses]

Wedding Attire over The Course of Time towards Change

The history of wedding attire is as long and intricate as the wedding itself. Through the centuries of changes in society, culture and the economic landscape wedding attire has seen incredible changes reflected in these shifts in society, culture and economics. This article traces the evolution of wedding attire, from basic clothes of the past to the more elaborate styles of today, with a particular focus on the evolution of bridal and orange bridesmaid dresses.

The wedding dress of the past was usually basic and practical. Brides usually wore their finest gowns for any occasion, like wearing tunica recta which was made of white wool, woven on long tunics. They frequently constituted the bride's attire during these ceremonies that were more focused on the economic and social connections as opposed to personal expression.

The Middle Ages saw the dawning of wedding gowns as symbols of class and wealth. Wedding brides of noble families would wear extravagantly colored gowns that were adorned with extravagant embroidery and furs to demonstrate their status and wealth; blue was commonly chosen to symbolize purity in the time.

Renaissance weddings of the period witnessed a rise in lavishness. Bridal gowns were more extravagant and featured luxurious fabrics such as velvet and silk and intricate embroidery techniques as well as the introduction of lacing. In addition, this was the beginning of the transition to white wedding dresses, although still not a common practice.

Princess Victoria as well as Prince Albert's wedding was the turning point of wedding fashion history in 1840, when queen Victoria picked a white dress embellished with lace and showcasing an elegant long train to complete her wedding ensemble. Since the time, white wedding dresses have been a symbol of innocence and purity, and their popularity has remained constant as they increase throughout across the Western world.

The 20th century witnessed drastic changes in bridal fashion that reflected the changing attitudes of society. For instance, in beginning of the 1900s, we saw brides dressed as the "Gibson Girl" bride wearing dresses with high necklines, puff sleeves, corset closures, and corsets and 1920's flapper brides were wearing dresses with a shorter hemline and waistlines that exemplified the freedom and independence of bridal fashion.

After the Second World War The 1950s saw the return of traditional values and feminine bridal style, including dresses with full skirts and fitted bodices that resembled the Dior New Look. However, the last portion of the 20th and into the 21st century have seen an explosion of diverse bridal styles, reflecting a widening of the boundaries of social norms and personal expression. Brides can now choose from a variety of styles from bohemian minimalism to classical or even extravagant wedding celebrations.

The tall bridesmaid dresses also has changed in the course of time. The traditional dress for bridesmaids was similar to those used by the bride in an effort to deflect evil spirits and safeguard her. Today, however, bridal gowns have become fashionable and are often complemented by it with regard to fashion and color.

Modern weddings are a place where every bride wants their wedding to reflect her personality as an individual. Bridal and bridesmaids' attire reflects the current fashion. The contemporary bridal industry is able to accommodate many different tastes size, shapes, and sizes to meet the needs of each bride's individuality during her special day.

Wedding attire is a reflection of society's economic, social and cultural changes over the years. From practical attire to symbols of status to expressions personal fashion and reflections of changes in society - wedding dress is constantly evolving and capturing each moment while maintaining the traditions of weddings.

[roaming-through-time]

Good day friends! Or as the native romans here like to say… Salve!

I am not sure how many of you remember my last post, but I was standing outside the Colosseum not able to get in. Now thinking about, I understand why the local had warned me not to go in, because I was not dressed as a wealthy woman or those of the higher social status. Since then, I came up with an idea to get disguise as an elite woman. I will be in full incognito since they won’t be able to notice that I don’t belong here! To be clear, I am dressing up an elite woman since it is in the higher level and I feel like it with enough layers I can pull it off….hopefully. I got help from a local woman here who is always at home taking care of her children and providing for her husband always, since that is what the norm here is. She kindly provided me with these clothes and tips. I started by first putting on a long and elegant stola, its rich colors reflecting my “elevated status.” Also draping a palla over my left shoulder which adds an extra touch of grace. Underneath, a knee-length tunica provides a simple yet foundational layer. I aIso made sure to wear jewelry made of from scrap metals I could find. The local kind women also provided me with sandals and gave me a crafted hairstyle, adorned with pins and a subtle veil. With each garment in place, I stand ready to embody the world of an elite Roman woman!

Heading to the Colosseum, I knew I was close because the smell of dust, sweat and death come back to me. As I enter through the massive archways, I followed the other elite women and went to a special section in the amphitheater known as the cavea/ seating area. In the big arena, the gladiators stepped out, looking tough and sweaty. The crowd went wild, shouting and cheering. The ground was covered in sand. The gladiators, ready for a fight, eyed each other with determination. When the battle started, you could hear the clang of weapons, it was loud and exciting. The gladiators moved fast, showing off their skills. The people watching couldn't take their eyes off the fight and they were on the edge of their seats. Some called out the names of their favored gladiators, passionately endorsing their chosen champions. Cheers of encouragement and exuberant applause filled the air as the crowd became emotionally invested in the unfolding spectacle. The gladiators were like a mix of strong and quick, dodging and attacking. The sounds of swords hitting shields and the occasional triumphant yell echoed in the air. The fighters were wearing shiny armor that sparkled in the sun, making them look even more impressive. Unfortunately, it got to a point where it was too disturbing and gruesome that I almost threw up. The fighters fought for their lives, and watching the intense scene, depicting human struggle and sacrifice so vividly, was very tough to witness in person. I knew it was time to go somewhere else.

#OnToTheNext #SadAndScared #TimeTravelerAtHeart #RoamingThroughRome #HIS101 #FinalProject

[theromaboo]

7, 13, and 15 for the historical asks

Thank you for the ask!

7. Historical dressing, uniform or costume?

When I was 13, I sewed my own tunica and paenula and wore them to school so I think they deserve the spotlight!

Tunica

Paenula

I actually got into the school yearbook so here's that.

13. Something random about some random historical person in a random era.

For some reason whenever someone asks me a question like that, I freeze up and literally can't think of anything!

I'll just say what I usually say when someone asks me for a random fun fact. Apparently Nero and Britannicus had some birds that were taught to say a few things in Greek and Latin.

"At the moment that I am writing this, the young Caesars (Nero and Britannicus) have a starling and some nightingales that are being taught to talk in Greek and Latin; besides which, they are studying their task the whole day, continually repeating the new words that they have learnt, and giving utterance to phrases even of considerable length." Pliny the Elder, The Natural History, 10.59

Omg omg omg. That's so cute! So cute! My heart can't take it. Especially with what happened in the end. . .

Anyway, @the-little-fox-in-the-box I know you will love that quote.

15. Were the history classes teached in an interesting way in your school/ college/ university? What would you do to improve them if you were the teacher / lecturer?

Uhhhh it really depends on what was being taught! I think generally, the history of other places was taught in a much more engaging and interesting way than how the history of Canada was taught. And guess what 99% of the history classes were about :(

Canadian history.

I think that the history of Canada should be taught more similarly to how the history of other places is taught. It's like they want us to forget Canadian history!

Generally when we were taught Canadian history, we never got any creative assignments. We only got extremely boring quizzes and tests. And the assignments that are literally just tests you get to bring home.

But when we were taught Renaissance history, all our assignments were super creative. I got to compare art styles and have interviews with Dante and Petrarch and stuff like that. And I still know a lot about this part of history and I would happily study about it, which I cannot say about Canadian history.

For non-Canadian history, I think it was taught well and it was engaging and interesting. My only critiques are of the content itself. I think very often they kind of zoom into one perspective and refuse to look anywhere else. But that's not how it was taught, but what was taught, which isn't really what this question is asking.

Why can't we have creative ways to apply our knowledge in Canadian history? The way I was taught it, we were pretty much just encouraged to memorize the summaries of a bunch of dull events to regurgitate during a test and never care about ever again.

So yeah, if I was the teacher, I'd just teach all the history as if it were non-Canadian history.

[my3dartblog]

The legions of the Roman Empire had a fairly standardized dress and armor, particularly from the early to mid-1st century onward, when the segmented armor (Lorica Segmentata) was introduced. This Roman Legionary set includes an imperial Gallic type G Roman helmet (Galea) with an optional horse hair crest for Centurions, a Corbridge type A segmented armor cuirass (Lorica Segmentata), a tunic (Tunica), leather army sandals (Caligae), a scarf (Focale) to protect the neck from chafing by the armor, a belt with dangling straps and a dagger scabbard (Cingulum Militare or Balteus), a scabbard with a belt for the sword. Also included is a sword (Gladius) with two classical blade shapes (Hispaniensis and Mainz), a javelin (Pilum), a dagger (Pugio), and a shield (Scutum). The Lorica Segmentata armor is constructed from rigid overlapping plates that are rigged to move like in real life without conforming. The outfit can be simulated with dForce for the best results for the tunica and the balteus. Alea iacta est! What's Included and Features Roman Legionary Outfit for Genesis 9: (.DUF) Props: PRZ Roman Legionary Gladius Hispaniensis PRZ Roman Legionary Gladius Mainz PRZ Roman Legionary Pilum PRZ Roman Legionary Pugio PRZ Roman Legionary Scutum PRZ Roman Legionary Gladius PRZ Roman Legionary Pilum Smart Props: PRZ Roman Legionary Scutum Left Hand PRZ Roman Legionary Pilum Right Hand PRZ Roman Legionary Pugio Right Hand PRZ Roman Legionary Gladius Hispaniensis Right Hand PRZ Roman Legionary Gladius Mainz Right Hand PRZ Roman Legionary Centurio: Expand All Loosen Buttocks Loosen Chest Loosen Elbow Loosen Midriff Loosen Neck Loosen Skirt Above Knee Loosen Skirt Below Knee Loosen Skirt Mini Loosen Sleeves Loosen Waist Lower Loosen Waist Upper PRZ Roman Legionary Balteus: Expand All Loosen Skirt Above Knee Loosen Skirt Mini Loosen Waist Lower Loosen Waist Upper Adjust Leather Straps PRZ Roman Legionary Caligae: Expand All Loosen Ankles Loosen Shins PRZ Roman Legionary Focale: Expand All Loosen Chest Loosen Neck PRZ Roman Legionary Galea Centurio: Cheek Piece Left Adjust Cheek Piece Right Adjust PRZ Roman Legionary Galea: Cheek Piece Left Adjust Cheek Piece Right Adjust PRZ Roman Legionary Lorica Segmentata: Expand All Loosen Buttocks Loosen Chest Loosen Midriff Loosen Neck Loosen Shoulders Loosen Waist Lower Loosen Waist Upper Chest Plate Back Left Chest Plate Front Left Chest Plate Back Right Chest Plate Front Right Girdle Plates Up Back Girdle Plates Up Front Girdle Plates Up Leftt Girdle Plates Up Right Girdle Plates Up Back Girdle Plates Up Leftt Girdle Plates Up Right Shoulder Guard Left Side-Side Shoulder Guard Left Up-Down Shoulder Guard Back Left Shoulder Guard Front Left Shoulder Guard Left Front-Back Girdle Plates Up All Shoulder Guard Right Side-Side Shoulder Guard Right Up-Down Shoulder Guard Back Right Shoulder Guard Front Right Shoulder Guard Right Front-Back PRZ Roman Legionary Scabbard: Expand All Loosen Back Loosen Chest Loosen Midriff Loosen Neck Loosen Waist PRZ Roman Legionary Tunica: Expand All Loosen Buttocks Loosen Chest Loosen Elbow Loosen Midriff Loosen Neck Loosen Skirt Above Knee Loosen Skirt Below Knee Loosen Skirt Mini Loosen Sleeves Loosen Waist Lower Loosen Waist Upper Supported Shapes: Base Base Masculine Ivar 9 Julius 9 Lawrence 9 Michael 9 Nathan 9 Other Shapes may be supported in Daz Studio by Auto-follow Materials: Balteus 00 Light Caligae 00 Dark Focale 00 Red Galea 00 Mild Steel Gladius 00 Bone Grip Lorica 00 Mild Steel Pilum 00 Brown Pugio 00 Bronze Scabbard 00 Leather Scutum 00 Red A Tunica 00 Red Textures Include: 55 Texture, Bump, Normal, Glossy Roughness, and Transparency Maps (4096 x 4096) Daz Studio Iray Material Presets (.DUF) Required Products: Genesis 9 Starter Essentials Compatible Figures: Genesis 9 Compatible Software: dForce Cloth, Daz Studio 4.21 Install Types: DazCentral, Daz Connect, DIM, Manual Install Coming soon: https://3d-stuff.net/ #daz3d #dazstudio #3drender #3dart #daz3dstudio #irayrender #3dartwork #blender #blenderrender #blenderart #noaiart #noaiwriting #noai https://3d-stuff.net/