#spartan beast

[moonshynecybin]

digging into the little avatars that some riders have.... all of them are so cute and representative of their riders... im only gonna talk about a few here but i might add more later !

vale: cartoony turtle. the first to do this as far as i can tell! originated from a toy turtle (i think a teenage mutant ninja turtle lmao) that his mom gave him as a kid that he mounted on his helmet. classiccccc vale, very ironic and tongue-in-cheek, tattooed on his body in the funniest place possible, and of course the joke relies on the audience knowing that he's the fastest dude in the room ! very in-character choices all

marc: fire ant. he said i am tiny. he said i am SMALL. he said i am fierce and strong for my size... not a classically fierce choice but nonetheless makes a lot of sense to me ! also very funny that the intial design for the ant was made by vale's helmet guy, though i think he's moved towards the sharper design in recent years post-divorce and the legal stuff with its image rights... fun post about marc choosing it as his mascot by @frongsonabike here (also a very deeply catalan choice, according to @babynflames !)

bez: scorpion !!!!! this man is undeniably keyed into astrology lmao. hes a scorpio and he LOVESSSS IT. absolutely fascinating implications for his character on that, considering scorpios are a sign that catches a lot of flack. like. he looked at a list of scorpio traits and said omg me fr i need to convert this into a branding opportunity...

cele. the WAVEEE literally iconic to me. fits him SO well imo. serene. immutable. undeniably and probably unintentionally hilarious when used as punctuation. my favorite of these in the graphic design sense and i love that he changed FUCK ALL about it design-wise when he moved to KTM. also very cute that the 13 on his bike looks like the bottom of a pool!

fabio. el diablo !!! very fun considering i think hes the biggest lover boy on the grid but hes also FASTTT so i get it, its baddass etc. i DO think he would prefer the devil emoji on instagram to be red but that has been cruelly denied from him by apple.

[the-adonis-artist]

Cora, The Menagerie

A Path of The Beast Barbarian raised to be a Spartan soldier, but now runs with the maenads in the Cult of Dionysus. Her madness in combat (rage) and beast-like abilities were a blessing from Dionysus to protect herself and those she held dear.

She is the newest edition to my ever growing collection of characters and will be playing her in the session 1 of our Greek mythology inspired campaign later tonight!

[ocrkings]

Spartan Race Death March Summit Killington #spartan

[quietly-sleeping]

When he first started doing Liu Qingge's hair he didn't expect the other man to be so sensitive. Shen Yuan had carefully pulled out the dripping hair pins, the now stained ribbon, and a guan the man usually refused to wear. He thought at first the shivering was due to the sticky sap that still coated most of Liu Qingge's robes, of which he really needed to get out of.

But it continued after Liu Qingge's bath. His shoulders would tense, flinching slightly as Shen Yuan began to drag the comb through his hair. But as it continued, the shivers would return, his shoulders would drop and he began to sway slightly. Shen Yuan knew he shouldn't mess with his shidi like this, but he couldn't help himself sometimes.

It was fascinating to watch Liu Qingge begin to melt as Shen Yuan worked the hair oil in. As he carefully braided his shidi's hair and pulled him towards his awfully Spartan bed, Shen Yuan wondered when he would be able to do this again.

The answer was: less than a week. The Mud Slinging Toad followed through with its name, leaving Shen Yuan, Liu Qingge, and a less than pleased Mu Qingfang covered.

Mu Qingfang left them quickly, citing a lecture he needed to prepare for while Shen Yuan herded his uncooperative shidi towards the Beast Peak. Shen Yuan was delighted to discover that it took less time to make Liu Qingge melt this time around. The man blinking like a content cat while Shen Yuan worked clumps of mud out of his long hair.

His shidi's sudden infliction of loose limbs lasted until Shen Yuan was clean as well. The other Peak Lord gathering his senses enough to stumble over to the bed and promptly pass out. Which Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded, however, Liu Qingge had laid across most of the bed. Leaving Shen Yuan with the choice of either waking his shidi, not going to happen, or adjusting the man enough for Shen Yuan to fit as well.

Shen Yuan certainly wasn't going to be sleeping else where. He liked his bed far too much for that.

That decision caused an unfortunate amount of activity that morning. With his very pretty shidi, clad in his inner robes and flushed down his neck, storming out of Shen Yuan's modest house with Shen Yuan's outerrobe in hand. If he were more awake Shen Yuan was certain he would have called out for his shidi and taken his outerrobe back. However, he was tired, and his bed was so warm, and it smelled sweet like the soap he'd given his shidi to use last night.

He'd simply get his robe back later, Shen Yuan assured himself, he'd have to return Liu Qingge's anyway.

It was nearly two weeks until Shen Yuan got to put his hands on Liu Qingge's hair again. This time they weren't covered in suspicious substances, and Shen Yuan had taken the chance to return Liu Qingge's outerrobe. Despite his shidi attempting to run out the door again, as he had most of the last two weeks, Shen Yuan had managed to coax the man into a cup of tea.

Shen Yuan had found himself staring at a strand of his shidi's hair for most of their talk, it had escaped the braid that lead most of Liu Qingge's hair back to his ponytail. In fact, his shidi's hair seemed softer today, and Shen Yuan could feel his hand twitching slightly. It was a little amusing to watch the tint of red blossom down Liu Qingge's neck when Shen Yuan asked if he could tidy his hair.

However, it was so much more, in multiple ways to have Liu Qingge loose limbed and blinking slowly while resting his head on Shen Yuan's lap. He wasn't entirely sure how they ended up this way, but he certainly wasn't opposed to it. He followed the curve of Liu Qingge's cheek as it pressed against his leg, tracing a line with his eyes down his relaxed shidi's back.

It was a lovely line, and for a moment Shen Yuan longed for the skill to paint or draw the human form. How pretty a painting it would be, his stiff and tense shidi, pliant and soft, permanently recorded for Shen Yuan to study.

He had long finished combing his shidi's hair, simply stroking down his back and shoulders, the man burrowing closer to Shen Yuan the longer it lasted. It left his pretty shidi so relaxed that only Shen Yuan jumped when the door to his home snapped open.

Fighting the heat in his own cheeks now, Shen Yuan tried to smile at his shixiong in a manner that told him I have an explanation for this. Shen Yuan wasn't sure he succeeded when Shen Qingqiu smiled back at him.

"Well," The smile, paired with sharp brown eyes made a shiver of something Shen Yuan assumed to be fear run down his spine. "This is certainly a sight."

[backstabber128]

Here's the inevitable part 2 of the God of War Ragnarok x Arcane crack AU I had y'all 👍👍

These ideas obliterated me out of nowhere so I definitely went wild with them this time. I fleshed out more of the girls' origins and the drama with Silco who's on a spree for revenge on Vander.

Silco saves little Powder from a pack of monsters and she tries to give him a reason not to finish his quest for vengeance.

Unfortunately, their relationship isn't enough because Silco doesn't believe he can be saved. He uses his mind control power to manipulate Vi's anger + Spartan Rage against herself and Vander. Even so, Powder can't bring herself to kill him after seeing he's not entirely the monster they say he is.

The fight ends with Powder alone with Silco and scarred from the chains of Vi's blades of chaos. And of course Silco banishes Vi into another realm and assumes she would die from her injuries.

(Vander may or may not get revived and come back later stuck in his beast form bc this AU is tragic enough 😭)

I'll leave the rest to interpretation but this was a blast to draw! The Norse mythology theme is still my favorite and drawing the fight scenes and family stuff was the best part.^^

[yandereunsolved]

⚔ Yandere Maximus Decimus Meridius ⚔

cw(s): non-consenual kissing/touching, physical abuse (fighting and being restrained), & manipulation

Death was a promise to any who entered the arena. It is the most sacred form of entertainment. A way for bloodthirsty peasants and aristocrats alike to satiate that primal hunger. It is a calling to those who participate—kill or be killed; no god will save you now. Your sword is your only savior.

Like a siren, it lured you. Long forgotten was the past you had. Slave, free, rich, poor. None were equals in the arena, but for a moment, nothing mattered but your skill with a blade and the talent to entertain. More addictive than opium it is. The cheers of the crowd flowed through your blood and made you nearly invincible. Nearly.

The newcomer. The Spartan.

He invaded your province like the plague. No longer were you the people's chosen, but the one to take a spear into their heart. He won against every adversary they threw at him, until there was none left but you, the champion.

"I hear of you going to Rome next," you offhandedly comment towards the Spaniard, awaiting the time for your mutually ensured demise.

"I hear of your jealousy," he responds. You cannot criticize his tone, for you don't know what to think of it. Snark or Understanding?

"I am a gladiator. My heart belongs in the ring, as does my 'jealousy'."

Your fists curl inward after you speak. You don't move against him. You won't. No. You won't. You aren't stupid enough to tire yourself before your arena time.

"Then I will own both by the end of our fight."

A fist to his face. Your hand will surely bruise. He doesn't strike back. Instead he smirks and places a kiss upon the hand that harmed him.

You should have taken that as the warning it was.

Blood to sand.

Body to body.

Lips to lips.

You aren't the heart to be speared, but the heart protected by the crowd's chosen.

"What the hell, Spaniard," you breathily whisper, re-entering the cell area.

"I told you I would own both." There's an amusement in him that you haven't heard before. It's a blood curdling satisfaction. "And it's Maximus—not Spaniard."

You have half a mind to punch him again, despite being covered in a mixture of bloods and injuries.

"Declaring your 'love' for me in front of thousands? We hardly know each other!" Exasperated you are. Every fiber in your being telling you that you are still in danger, caged in four walls with not a human but a beast: lion.

"That's where you're wrong."

"What?"

"We've met before. Many times."

"Lying doesn't fit you, Spaniard," you spit out like a slur.

The wind is forced out of your already worn lungs. Scarred hands settle around your neck with practiced ease, almost lovingly, if not for the fact you were shoved against imprisoning bars moments prior. Pink lips chapped by the harsh sun meet yours for more moments of stolen intimacy. His lips quickly trail down your neck like trickling blood. His brawny, albeit slightly malnourished, body pinning you feels like loss, like a new sentence the arena has thrust upon you.

"I was once an... an honorable man," he groans out, rutting against you, "—a husband, a father. I had love in my heart, but it was replaced with revenge by a two-faced coward."

He breaks away from your mouth but keeps you in-between him and the bars digging into you. He admires you as you pant, a bruised pair of lips and neck added to your list of injuries. Surely other people must be witness to this, you think. Hear the happening. If they are or can, they don't care enough to stop him... defend you.

"Now all I have is you." He gingerly connects his forehead to yours, noses just barely touching. Your breaths intermingle. "I pity you, for the gods intertwined us. The heavens be damned if I let someone else I care for slip through my fingers."

[christinesficrecs]

Do you remember a story where stiles was Derek’s person it was like role reversal or something it was on a rec list but tumblr lost it to the eather. Ty it’s driving me crazy trying to find it. I need to start screen shotting rec lists so this won’t happen again 🙄

Like bodyswap? There are quite a few but maybe it's one of these.

Your Body’s My Body by  derekstilinski | 10K

Derek and Stiles get body swapped… Interesting things happen.

Fuzzy Logic by  Sparseparsley | 6.5K

Derek and Stiles switch bodies because of wizard reasons and Stiles just wants to know what that awesome scent is.

i feel you in every heartbeat by  warlocks | 4K

The AU in which, on their 22nd birthday, a person will switch bodies with their soulmate and is left to figure out whom they’re temporarily inhabiting, and how to get back to each other. But because Stiles is Stiles, he forgets that it’s his birthday, and the bodyswap takes him by surprise.

Might Not Make It Back by GotTheSilver | 23.3K | Explicit

Witches. Fucking witches. Stiles was never going to get along with them. Never. Whatever spooky powers Deaton kept alleging he had, kept training him to recognise, witches and Stiles were never going to work in combination. They were oil and water, Scott and an AP class, Lydia and a thrift store. Witches and Stiles were just. No Stiles is mouthy and witches don’t like that, apparently. And, yes, okay, the fact that Stiles is now inhabiting Derek’s body because of a witch possibly has something to do with Stiles’ feelings.

But Moses Supposes Erroneously by  blue_fjords | 21.9K

The Beacon Hills Community Players are putting on “Singin’ in the Rain” and everyone’s trying out. It’s… nice, singing and dancing during a lull in the werewolf action. Complications arise, however, when Derek is introduced as the choreographer and a trickster decides to interfere in the Stilinski men’s somewhat strained relationship.

Two Sides of the Same Mirror by  p1013 | 7.7K

Stiles doesn’t like going to the antiques store so much as he recognizes that it’s something he needs to do periodically. Every once in awhile, though, he’ll find something interesting. A Scientific Study of the Metaphysical Properties of Common Herbs was particularly useful, which he’d found tucked behind another copy of The Lord Of The Rings and some Nora Roberts junk.

Right now, he’s thumbing through a brown and cracked copy of The Werwolfe, or, The Baleful Beast.

In Your Shoes by  yodasyoyo | 3.8K

Sure, Derek’s apartment is kind of spartan and lacking in essentials, like nutritious food, and a decent mattress, and primary colors, but the Camaro more than makes up for it.

Trust Fall by Stoney | 144.2K | Explicit

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it’s pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait…does this mean he’s the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.

[agentoli]

Could you draw Wash sitting in Maine's lap?? Like he's just reading or something and Maine's peering over his shoulder to do the same. I think their height difference is hilarious

(I dunno how tall you hc Maine as but honestly?? 7'2 Spartan sized beast being all soft and sweet with Wash's lean 5'8 lookin ass is so cute to me)

this was a really fun one, thanks for the idea!

[libby-for-life]

Hayo! It's me!

Um... If it's not too much trouble, could you do part 6 of "Theirs"? Where Adam is expelled from Eden for being "contaminated" and while Lucifer and Lilith lose their minds because their loved one is "unprotected" and "defenseless" outside, Adam is having the best day of his life having killed two of Adam's ancestors of the bears (which are huge). and all this while having a pregnant belly.

It's just that I find it funny to imagine their reunion. Adam with absolutely long, tangled hair, a spartan beard, covered in the skin of the beasts he killed for food, covered in scars, scrapes and bruises, with a muscular build. A completely wild appearance that is softened by the fanny pack made of animal skin in which she carries her three year old son.

Don't know. I find that funny. Lucifer and Lilith losing their minds with worry and Adam having the time of his life after leaving Eden (he's a wild soul) (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Ooohhhh, I like that! Adam is a wild soul by nature. Read parts 1 through 5 for a better understanding of this mini-series.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Adam crept silently closer through the brush, his eyes trained on the bear before him. He gripped his spear tightly as he surveyed his surroundings. Nothing so far other than danger in front of him. Shifting his weight on, his belly poking out of the makeshift tunic he had made, he charged the bear.

It didn't have any idea what was going on until it was already dead. Being six months pregnant and hunting at the same time was hard but Adam managed it. He grinned at his belly. "You eat a lot for a little twirp." He commented as he dragged the bear up onto his shoulders to carry back to his cave. Finally. These cravings were really starting to wear him thin, but if anyone had asked him, Adam had never felt happier.

This was what he had been missing. He finally felt alive.

Three months ago:

Adam coward at the feet of Lucifer and Lilith as the angels surrounded them. They were trying to protect him as the angles looked at Adam in disgust and he couldn't help but whimper away from them.

"Lucifer, how dare you seduce the first of humanity with your vile ways?" An angel growled. Lucifer stood his ground though and defiantly growled back. "Seduced? We fell in love!" Lucifer yelled. "They love me and I love them!"

His brother, Michael, scoffed. "You come into the Garden, have fornication with the first of our Lord's creation, and you call it love after we told you specifically not to come to the Garden? They were meant for each other. Not for you to force your way in." Lucifer flinched but glared at his twin.

Lilith also held her ground as she said, "I won't let you hurt Adam."

"No? What will you do?" An angel taunted. "I say we banish him from Eden. He's tainted from their sin." Adam could only watch as they nodded and talked to themselves as to what his punishment for getting pregnant would be.

They held Lucifer and Lilith in chains as Adam was dragged out of the Garden. "We'll find you!" Lucifer cried tears in his eyes. Lilith was trying to fight the chains holding her down, but she was furiously crying as well.

Adam felt numb. Lucifer and Lilith were both bound for Hell or maybe somewhere else and he was forced to wander the earth. The last thing he saw was Lilith and Lucifer crying out his name before everything went dark.

Present:

It was so long ago. As conflicted as he was about the whole situation, he couldn't help but feel like he could breathe again. Lucifer and Lilith could be suffocating to be with because they didn't let him do anything. Despite being kicked out of the Garden, he was enjoying the feeling of being independent.

There was a part of him that hoped they were okay. He didn't want them suffering, especially since they looked so scared for him. Adam stretched and smiled as he scratched his growing beard. He was sure they were fine. Lucifer and Lilith were some of the toughest people he knew. He was sure they were thriving in Hell or wherever they were.

XxX

Lucifer and Lilith were panicking up a storm. Adam was all alone out there in the wilderness, alone with a baby, and unable to take care of himself. They had to protect him. But they were stuck somewhere in the wilderness with no way out as well. Adam could be anywhere and as Lucifer had explained to Lilith, Earth was huge. He could very well be on the other side of Earth. He could be on an island, the desert, and even someplace he couldn't leave either. Stuck and unable to help himself.

Lilith felt herself hyperventilate. What if—what if Adam was already—

Her train of thought was cut off as Lucifer came flying down. "I...I couldn't find him in our area. We're going to have to move again." Lucifer had been spreading his angelic power every time they moved to find Adam but it only went so far. Hence why they moved every day, sometimes three times a day before Lucifer collapsed from exhaustion.

Lilith looked over Lucifer and her heart broke seeing him silently cry. Two years. They hadn't seen Adam in two years and they had searching every day without fail. They refused to believe Adam was hurt or de—she refused to go down that line of thought.

She brought Lucifer close and hugged him. "We'll find him. We're close. I can feel it." Empty words. She had no idea where he was. He could have been thousands of miles and they wouldn't have known.

"....yeah. We'll find him." Lucifer said. "I can feel it too."

The next day, Lucifer flew them both in the air. They had been flying for hours. He once again shoved his angelic power as far as it could reach to find Adam. Lilith kept her eyes looking all around, trying in vain to see if she could catch a glimpse of Adam.

Suddenly Lucifer screeched and they almost fell. Lilith yelped and hung on for dear life as Lucifer looked toward the east. "Lucifer?! What happened?!"

"I found him," Lucifer said before flying as fast as he could toward the East. Lilith couldn't hardly believe her ears. "Found him?! You found Adam?!" Lucifer nodded rapidly. "Yes! He's over here!" Adam. Adam had been found! Lucifer was a man on a mission as he flew down and landed in the middle of a vast forest.

"Adam?! Adam, sweetie where are you?!" Lilith yelled as Lucifer did the same. Lucifer guided her toward the direction Adam was in.

They burst through a clearing just in time to see a large mass of muscle tackle a massive bear to the ground. They could only stare as the person took a spear and plunged it into the head of the bear. It collapsed onto the floor and the man laughed as he stood over the beast.

He had wild long brown hair, a ripped body, and a thick beard. But they would recognize him anywhere.

"Adam?" Lucifer said, completely shocked at finding him here. The man looked over at them, his expression conveying shock at seeing them. He slung a makeshift leather sack on his chest as he walked over.

"Lucifer? Lilith?" Adam asked. Lilith still was taller but Adam's slim build was now muscled beyond what she thought capable. It looked good on him.

"I—what are you doing here?" Adam asked. He didn't sound mad or accusatory. Just confused.

"Adam! Oh, Adam! I'm so glad to see you!" Lilith cried out and hugged him. She was crying as Lucifer joined in. "We've been searching this whole time! We didn't give up even once—"

"Hey, sh," Adam said as he hugged them close. "You'll wake him up." They both looked at Adam confused until they realized the bundle around Adam’s chest moved slightly.

"Is that? The baby?" Lucifer asked in awe. Adam smiled proudly and opened the leather sack. Inside, was a beautiful baby boy sleeping peacefully. He had dark brown hair that looked almost black in the shade and pale skin like Lucifer. "He...he has your eyes, Lilith." Adam said with a smile. "A beautiful purple." Lilith blushed a bit at that comment.

"What's his name?" She asked.

"Seth."

[saccharinescorpion]

4 Things You Can Try Now That You’ve Read THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR

(technically 5 things)

Mabel - a podcast by Becca De La Rosa and Maybell Marten.

Anna Limón is a home help worker currently looking after the elderly Sally Martin. When Sally has a bizarre and frightening reaction to a box of letters Anna finds in her attic one day, Anna attempts to seek answers by contacting Sally’s only known living relative: Mabel Martin.

“A podcast about ghosts, family secrets, strange houses, and missed connections,” Mabel is a story that is difficult to describe, but one of the most important points is that the vast majority of it is an epistolary narrative between Anna and Mabel, just like how This Is How You Lose The Time War is an epistolary narrative between Red and Blue. It also has a very distinct writing style- dramatic, flowery, and a little bit intimidating. However, if you loved the writing style of TIHYLTTW, I personally think that Mabel is a perfect match for you.

And I’m not just saying that because Mabel is a story about two extremely overdramatic women who are somehow both frighteningly caustic yet almost adorably useless.

The Honey Month - a book by Amal El-Mohtar 

I certainly hope I don’t have to tell you this, but Amal El-Mohtar is one of the authors of This Is How You Lose The Time War, and The Honey Month is a short book she wrote several years ago.

The Honey Month is almost more of an experiment than a book- in its introduction, a friend of El-Mohtar explains how she sent her several small samples of honey, leading El-Mohtar to use the gift as in a unique way. For one February, every day she used a different vial of honey as inspiration for a small piece of writing.

The Honey Month contains 28 short pieces of writing, poetry, prose, and some things in between. It’s a small book full of things with big impact, and contains the lyrical yet meaty writing I enjoyed from El-Mohtar in TIHYLTTW.

Otherside Picnic (裏世界ピクニック) - A series of novels by Iori Miyazawa (illustrated by Shirakaba)

College sophomore Sorawo Kamikoshi longs to find an escape from other people, and in trying to find it discovers the Otherside, a strangely beautiful yet unfathomably dangerous parallel world inhabited by the-once-fictional creatures she knows from net lore. She also meets Toriko Nishina, another young woman with a knowledge of firearms and a desire to find her missing mentor. Together, these two girls explore the Otherside and find themselves changing little by little, both due to their adventures, but also due to their relationship with each other.

If you know me you probably aren’t surprised at this reccomendation. Otherside Picnic is a truly odd beast- it’s sci-fi, it’s horror, it’s comedy, it’s yuri. It’s about trauma, it’s about Japanese creepypasta, it’s about useless lesbians, and it’s about how the scariest thing of all is being vulnerable with another human being. I think fans of  This Is How You Lose The Time War  will enjoy it- Otherside Picnic’s writing style will likely feel almost spartan compared to TIHYLTTW, but in my opinion there’s a similar level of poetry in it. There’s also a similar level of women who are “badass” yet kind of messes. You’ve heard of “Enemies to Lovers,” get ready for “Accomplices to Lovers”!

(there’s also a manga adaptation by Eita Mizuno, as well as an anime adaptation directed by Takuya Sato)

The Handmaiden (아가씨) - a movie directed by Park Chan-wook (written by Park and Chung Seo-kyung, based on the novel Fingersmith by Sarah Waters)

In Japan-occupied Korea, the pickpocket Sook-hee is recruited by a con-man to aide him in his scam of a Japanese heiress, Lady Hideko. While the con-man poses as “Count Fujiwara” and woos Hideko, Sook-hee will play the part of her maid and subtly push the heiress towards him. But as time passes, Sook-hee begins to realize there are things occuring in the mansion that are even more sinister than her and the Count’s scheme, and there is much, much more to Hideko than meets the eye.

This is a list of recommendations for “people who have finished “This Is How You Lose The Time War,” but I try to recommend The Handmaiden to as many people as I possibly can. I’ve described it in the past as the cinematic equivalent of running a marathon: with a 144 minute runtime full of gorgeous direction and set design, dark machinations, twisted yet romantic writing, often troubling themes, and so, so many plot twists, it’s a movie that nearly feels like too much of a good thing. But for fans of TIHYLTTW, I’m sure what will intrigue you most is the relationship between the two main characters, one so complicated that “Enemies to Lovers” can’t hope to capture the roiling feelings of pity, guilt, hatred, desire, annoyance, sympathy, and everything in between. 

It’s also just really hot.

The Handmaiden is a movie that is best enjoyed going in knowing as little as possible. That said, it is also a story with dark and often upsetting themes that are absolutely crucial to its narrative. If you are concerned about that statement,  I reccomend looking at the movies’ entry on DoesTheDogDie, which I have looked at and found to be a pretty comprehesive list of content warnings that can be examined in a way that doesn’t spoil the twists of the story.

Fingersmith - a novel by Sarah Waters

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I’m going to get around to it!! I can’t technically recommend the book that inspired The Handmaiden since I haven’t read it yet, but I have at least one friend whose opinion I trust who sings its praises, so it’s good enough for me. Besides, if the recent popularity of This Is How You Lose The Time War has showed us anything, it’s that people constantly crave stories about complicated women, so it certainly can’t hurt, right?

[streets-in-paradise]

Feast of Champions

Gladiator (2000) Oneshot

Pairings: Maximus Decimus Meridius/The Spaniard x (Fem) Reader, (flirtatious friendship only) Haken x (Fem)Reader.

Warnings: captive man x kind lady captor (reader is the daughter of proximo), the spaniard speaks spanish despite neither spaniards or spanish existed then, trojan war metaphores and historical mistakes here and there ( specially in the few references to roman food I made with the info of the few legit-sounding recipes I found online.)

Summary: After his great performance, the Spaniard has rejected all the typical rewards for a champion. With the news of an upcoming trip to Rome and his intentions of winning freedom there reaching your ears, you offer to honor him with a small feast celebrating the best champions of the school in order to inspire them for the upcoming challenges.

Aware of your feelings for him, he expects to find you performing to tempt him with the idea of taking you as his wife after being liberted. However, the tensions between his own growing fondness of you and the wounds from his past reinforce his resistance. In a desperate attempt to solve the dichotomy, he hopes to counter strike by trying to bring you closer with someone he himself believes to be in a better position to make you happy.

Tags: @wildsaltair ( I am posting this one only because you wanted to see it )

Notes: Works as a continuation for Field of Practice, because I wanted to do one more oneshot with this concept despite I am not really turning it into a fic series.

Glossary: Puls - name of the fava beans and garlic porridge the gladiators are seen having in the film.

Savillum: ancient rome recipe for cheesecake, made of a ricotta-like cheese.

........................

Exactly as you predicted, the Spaniard became a huge success. A surprise since his very first performance, when nobody expected much of him. On the light of his raising popularity, your father found just one major problem with him and it was the lack of an act. He killed for the sake of it, giving quick deaths delivered with frustrated rage as mere means for survival. Like Achilles butchering the young men of Troy, an unstoppable force of destruction no one seemed capable of containing. Ironically distant from the Pelides, he proceeded with complete neglence for his fame. One man that was worth for an army, yet too occupied with the killing to work on the charm.

Fixable mistake on his part, because you have found his charm away from the arena. In the closed range of your home, from the very first moment he spared you an instant of his attention. Everytime you would remember he had once compared you to Helen of Troy observing the combats from some distant tower behind the great walls, you would fluster yourself with the memory. He didn't flirt with you back then, but knowing that didn't ease the effect it had on you.

He was Achilles in the battlefield and Hector in the city, A mindless butcher for the arena, a noble man offering you a cordial friendship ... the one who showed no interest in your beauty despite openly acknowledging it. The one making your heart beat stronger, because you weren't exactly like the spartan queen in what came to him. You couldn't help yourself from admiring him in ways you never did for other gladiators. What you had with him wasn't like your flirty friendship with Haken, treatment you would give him because his easy-going ways encouraged you for it. When the german would compliment you in return for receiving your praise, that would usually get you chuckling and following the game. Whenever the Spaniard did, you would become a flustered mess regardless of how innocent his comment could be.

If he would say your hair looked nice, you would repeat the hairstyle. If he would notice your soft approach of caregiver for the beasts, you would wander the cages of the beasts talking to those as if they were simple farm animals just to see if it would make him laugh.

There was nothing you wouldn't do to make him happy. Your heart was struck by the arrow of Cupid, causing a strong infatuation, and Proximo avoided to adress it for as long as he could. He quickly became aware of it, but it wasn't untill your behavior began to concern him that he decided to have that sort of talk with you.

Once the gladiator started following his indications, he won more than just the crowd. Your receivement was to embrace the victorious champion kissing both of his cheeks as if you would have conciously restrained yourself from trying his lips. The Spaniard had only smiled as if your enthusiasm was amusing to him, but your father could tell you would have clinged to that man with your whole body if it wasn't for his stoich ways creating a barrier.

Business aside, it was enough to raise concern about your fragile heart of wishfull maiden.

" I will arrange a reward for the Spaniard. " He was casually commenting to you in the intimacy of the prívate sections of the complex, where gladiators couldn't disrupt. " … Don't sneak arround this time if you don't want to stumble with what you shouldn't see."

The implications were clear regarding which kind of prize could be destined to the man, but the warning only got from you a skeptical chuckle making you abandon the focus of your writing practice on the foreign language you were learning to look up at him.

" He won't want a whore … Shall we make a bet? "

The proposal amused him, seeing that finding your correct predictions finantially wrecking some of his acquaintances had got you too confident on that matter.

" You are placing too much hope on that man. It is making you forget he is, after all, … a man."

You deviated the conversation strictly back to what it regarded the performance on the arena.

" He hasn't dissapointed, and let me remind you I was the onlyone who had faith in him from the start. Now that he is becoming famous, you would claim it was your idea to make of him a champion. "

He gave a few steps closer to you, untill being ríght in front of your work surface so you wouldn't avoid him when he would start to call you out.

" That's not what I mean and you know it … I watched you act like if you wanted to feel being his lovely wife welcoming him from war. I am aware of the particular ways you adopt with my men, but this is different. You are not playing to comfort him or yourself, you want to believe the fiction. "

From that point you decided to abandon the excercise, feeling the reproach falling on you with too much acuracy to keep pretending being occupated in something else and escape it.

" The difference doesn't matter, it's good for business and that's all you care about. How I feel about him concerns only myself. "

There was a shade of bitterness on your voice, dubitative search for his emotions of father on the matter beyond the calculative concerns of the slave master.

He gave you what you wanted, but allways in his particular way.

" After knowing where you come from ... Do you still want to fall in love with a gladiator? "

Your mother, he rarely talked about her. On his part, all you got to understand from how it happened was that he didn't experience it as an episode of enforced prostitution because of his fame as a gladiator. She was his lover as much as he was hers, and some form of genuine feeling bonded them despite the odd circunstancies for their passion.

" I am not like her, ... getting rid of the evidence before the husband would come back from war. If the campaigns of good old Marcus Aurelius wouldn't have been so long back in the day ... "

" She loved you as she loved me, if that wouldn't have been the case you wouldn't have end up working the nice farm in the villa of her eldery relatives." He interrumpted you right away, as scarce on details through the reminder as he could be. " You would have been placed where the illegitimate children go, to be picked up by a brothel and become a whore instead of the polite farm maid they ended up handing me."

He was correct: you were offered kindness and it was on base of that fact that your worldviews were so divided.

" ... Or a gladiator school. " You teased him in return. " Female gladiators are a curious oddity and in the moment they would have found out I was the daughter of the greatest gladiator in Rome, they wouldn't have resisted it. I would have been raised in a place like this, to become an amazon. The daugther of Mars on the arena. "

Lovely compliments to the treasured aspects of his complicated past weren't enough for you to get away.

" At least your mother knew my name before risking herself with me."

Remembering that you didn't even knew the name of the man sneaking into your romantic daydreams was quite an uncomfortable truth of the kind your father had no carefulness dealing with.

In a strange sense, his brutal honesty was a display of his affection that you didn't hesitate on returning.

" I am proud of you, as I am proud of our men. What I do for you is not an act. It's precisely because I know I could have been one of you that I want to do better for you all. I was given some light in my life, now it's my time to hold a candle and bringing it to you."

You took one of his hands with both of yours and gave him your sweetest grin, to what his voice became softer in the next advice.

" The Spaniard prefers to habitate in darkness and there is not much you can do about that."

You left your seat with an elegant bearing, feeling in yourself the charming effect of your first fruitfull conversation with the man back when he was even more of a stranger to you than then.

" The day we meet he said I reminded him of Helen of Troy watching the combats, ... he said I was beautifull and all our men find me charming. "

Pridefull as you were from repeating that statement, you still didn't manage to impress him with it.

He could easily guess what kind of first impression you would make for some gladiators, and the learnings of his youth only made the image more precise.

" You are the only woman arround who smells as one, a sip of fresh water in the desert. That doesn't mean you should take any encouragement from it. "

His realistic sight underestimated your patience. Even if you just happened to be the better presented woman of the place, that wasn't something to overlook. From the attention that would bring you, there was hope to build something real with the man you wanted.

" Rome wasn't built in a day, Pa ... And for a kiss of the Spaniard I would wait a lifetime. "

The mischievous energy in your tone and the little smirk at the end was an invitation for complicity, to what your father kept teasing you.

" That is easy to say, his is shorter than yours. "

The mean joke still managed to make you laugh, but you cutted his own chuckles with a hug.

" ... You care for me!!! You are thinking of my heartbreak if he dies!"

No matter how many times you would give him effusive affectionate gestures, it always would get him slightly surprised. You found it adorable, a reminescense of his corporal memory more used to predict attacks than caresses. He would tense for an instant, and you would ease him before squeezing tighter.

Proximo wasn't a man easy to catch giving himself in to softer emotions and with your filial love outbursts he used his cynicism as a shield.

"I am thinking that I don't want to load with the bastard of a gladiator because my own late acknowledged descendant couldn't find a husband before getting pregnant from one."

You released him and playfully patted one of his shoulders.

" Don't say that! The Spaniard is a gentleman, .. he would never do that! "

" I hate to admit it, but you are in the right. It could be worse, ... you could be chasing the german. Have no doubt that he would be responding, he loves the attention from beautifull women."

The disguised compliment was your shot to read between lines glimpses of support. Not for your cause, but for yourself as his contextually excentric-mannered daughter pointing to at least one of your virtues. There was little chance for him to calm your excitement anyways after letting you know that he was going to bring in the Spaniard closer to the intimate lounges in his property, even if it was for a conversation in which you had no place to wander. When the guards guided him in, your eyes followed the gladiator all the way through in hardly hidden adoration.

The Spaniard had strutted the place as if he expected to face more difficulties through the unusual call. Properly groomed and better dressed than he was on his early days at the school, he looked every day more handsome in your eyes. The sleeveless blue garment of common use you would see many other gladiators wearing had a different and somehow more perfect fitting for him, highlighting the blue of his eyes and the light glimpses of tanning in his skin. Despite you did miss a bit the messy beard, his lips looked even more kissable. You would have lied denying you thought of rewarding him with a full mouth kiss after the fight where his frustrated reaction turned him into a new favorite of the people.

You were more than entertained, you were amazed.

Distracted as he was with his own thoughts, he noticed you only an instant before getting inside and dedicated you a fleeting smile. A kind gesture, like a friendly salute that in any other would have been a mere courtesy. After Juba, you were the onlyone he would sometimes smile for. It would happen either as a result of your hard work cheering him up, or to let you know he was alright. No matter how stubborn he was, you were equally as persistent in the task of proving you cared for him and he got sort of used to it. At moments, you would get the rare impression that he would pretend neutrality as an active effort to not grow fond of you and that would only inspire you in the contrary direction. The more he would avoid it, the sweeter your concern displays would become.

When you finally saw him coming out from the talk with your father, you smiled to yourself noticing he was carrying a piece of armor. His claimed reward, you guessed, proving you weren't wrong about him.

" Strange preferences for your compensation, my friend. Most victorious champions would want at least a taste from one of the many pleasures denied for them. "

The teasing made him stop in his tracks and you smiled for him.

" You look like Achilles holding the new armour forged by Vulcan ... Who are you going to avenge with that? "

He knew that you had no idea of just how much accurate the mocking affirmation was, but it got you his attention.

" We will be going to Rome, as you warned me, for what your father wants to guide me and promote me so I would one day stand in front of the Emperor like he once did. "

The clarification was vague and from it you understood that he had decided it was the time to stop fighting for mere survival to focus on winning his freedom. You thought he was no longer self perceiving as a doomed prisoner and perhaps started to envision a future for himself.

Guided by the very little amount of factual knowledge you had about him, it was understandable for you to think he had found hope.

" THAT'S WONDERFULL!!! Take it from me, Spaniard: a man with your skill and charm will have no problem winning the crowd. " You couldn't stop yourself from inmediately encouraging. " Pa says the romans are more demanding because they are used to spectacles of a great magnitude that isn't experienced anywhere else in the empire, ... but you are something out of this world. "

He smiled to the praise and you followed the gesture looking at his lips.

" He is still not entirely convinced of that, but thank you. ... I only hope you remember what I told you about Rome."

" To watch out from the Emperor? Yes, sir! " You repeated, like a happy subordinate following orders from a general. " That would be no big deal, I would be too preoccupied for my champions to socialize during the games. "

He remained a bit skeptical and through his protective reasoning he let you know that he didn't ignore at all your daily activities.

" The scribe has been teaching you greek, the one foreign language that roman elites value. "

Lovely surprise painted in your semblance to that simple acknowledgement of you he revealed and you ended up telling more than what you should, going in details that shouldn't concern him.

" The original language of the Iliad, that I am learning for my own enrichment because now I have the chance." You began to explain yourself. " ... My mother was wealthy, but the people she sent me with weren't going to raise me like one of them. I grew up a fatherless child from an union they wanted to hide, so to them I was more like a freeborn servant they liked as family than a real relative. The owner of the villa taught me to read in latin because he used to say that is what distinguishes the civilized folk from barbarians. I think that is nonsense: Haken and Juba are more polite than many latin speakers and avid readers I meet. "

" Clever, ... you won't let the bright of the city blind you. " He praised you in return. " Your father was once a slave yet you remain the humblest of the family. How is that even possible? "

Whatever he spoke with your father inspiring him into asking further, you were thankfull of. Men rarely asked you about your own story, despite you were there to listen everyone.

"Meeting him changed my life, not just because I became suddenly richer. For me it was as if one day you would find out your father is Hercules and he has finished the twelve labours, so you can follow him for adventures. He is my hero, no matter how different we are, I adore him and I trully wish to make him proud. He didn't abandon me when he found out of me."

You gave a mischievous glance to the guards, indicating them to give you a bit of space to talk comfortably before they would guide him back where he belonged.

They did so, and you confessed yourself in a more mundane aspect of the experience.

" The change of enviroment was brutal ... Can you imagine, going from a farmhouse to a gladiator school? So used to cultivate life and you find yourself surrounded of death. Reading the epics was my way of adjusting to it, of trying to inmerse myself in the fantasy that you all incarnate."

Like it happened a few times before, a sudden yet unexplainable burst of laughter from him shifted the tone of your conversation. It was an odd habit of his that you finally felt in condition to interrogate him about.

" Why do you always laugh harder when I am being serious than when I joke with you?

" Sometimes I hear you speak and feel as if the gods would be pulling a bad phrank on me." He simply stated. " Not thinking your saids are meaningless or I find them a mock, but because we understand each other too well"

Incapable of fully comprehending what he meant, you chuckled and grabbed the piece of armor from his hands. After a quick examination, you smirked in approval and handed it to the guards so they would keep it save for him during an instant. Enough for you to take his hands staring at him with absolute delight.

" May I tempt you with one more reward, Spaniard? Not just for your results on the arena, but for your wise advice and attentive ears. I rarely find a good listener here."

His smile adquired a shade of cheerfull nervousy, as if something in him feared of your proposal despite he trusted in you.

" ... That would depend of which offering the lady of the house is about to make. "

Your chuckling evolved into louder laughter, surprised by the assumption.

" What kind of woman do you think I am? No matter how much they said Helen was a whore, she only slept with her oddly circunstantial husbands during her time in Troy. Men may die in front of me but I don't reward the champions with my beauty. "

He knew you have grown fond of the image he presented you with during the little game you played the day you meet. Seeing the charming effect you had in many of the other gladiators, he had said that in the parody of the heroic times they represented you played the role of the face that launched a thousand ships. From then, you never stopped teasing him about that observation.

" Very well, divine among women, because rejecting you puts me in a very difficult position none of us wants to be in ... What do you have for me? "

His use of the famous ephitet of the epics was a mere mock, a harmless participation of the inside joke he accidentally started, but you were melting for him regardless of how ilogical that was.

" To invite you for dinner, so for once you would be fed like a man and not as a beast. " You proposed, as friendly as you could because you didn't want to give him the impression of romantic hints in the invitation. " ... Besides, it doesn't have to be just you. I would invite Haken, I don't want him to feel displaced by your popularity ... And Juba too! He is your friend, another great champion, and allways so sweet to me. It would be a delight to count with his company. "

You were starting to stumble in your own words and he attempted to help you make it sense from what he interpreted on the petition.

" Let me understand this: you want us to have a feast of champions, ... a banquet like the ones given to the heroes of the trojan war? "

You nodded in agreement, relieved to have found a sensical explanation for what initially was an idea initially born from your wish to present him with new comforts as silent way to express your love.

" A more humble adaptation of the concept. I will even cook for you, because honoring my best gladiators with food made by other slaves is unnaceptable. "

He approved your mindset, coming to notice you had the sort of humble dignity and honor the place often lacked of.

" It sounds fantastic, but I believe your father would find it goes against the rules and you already risked a lot for the scribe."

" I stopped Pa from wasting resources: that slave was useless for fighting, but not worthless. " You defended yourself in the logic of the business. " He payed him incredibly cheaper and I am giving good use to his skills. If he eventually wants to get rid of him, selling him as a teacher to a wealthy family in Rome gives more profit than letting him die on the arena. "

As witness of your interaction with the man, he perfectly knew that wasn't your motivation. You had mercy of him and wrapped your feelings in a language convincing enough to please your father.Maximus was very proud of you for it and acted as your accomplice, never questioning your true reasons because it was a tacit understandment between you.

It was a hopefull relief for him to find in you a person of matching values, specially because you weren't limiting yourself to a quiet lamment for your surroundings but taking action in whatever way you could.

" You saved the life of that man, ... and I would gladly sit by your table If the master allows it. "

Signaling his moment to retire, he kissed the knuckles from both of your hands and you allowed him the permission in between non stop giggling.

It was nothing serious, he was just joking in the light-hearted way you often encouraged with the others, but following his style more inclined to keep proper manners for it. Seeing the kind of jokes you had with Haken made Maximus guess it wouldn't encourage you too much.

He had came to notice that you admired him, not in the way the crowd cheers for a gladiator, but as a lonely woman that fancies a man. It was an understandable reaction in your perspective, given that he had no way of crushing your hopes without revealing his story to you. As long as you knew, he was a lonely man in position of enjoying your company and he had a soft spot for you. Despite nothing you have done has had any explicit intentions of a romantical advance on him, Maximus would see the love in your eyes whenever your glance searched for his.

Remaining for too long near you was like being tempted with the promise of peace hidding underneath the mundanity of never ending combats without a purpose. He needed to be more cautious, but your unspoken complot with Juba to make him cling to life for a little longer was very much effective. While his gladiator friend kindly encouraged him to stay alive, you tried hard to make him enjoy of his cruelly prolonged existence and you often obtained brief success.

He couldn't keep affording it, not when the chance for revenge against Commodus was finally presenting itself. Temporally indulging in the comforting fiction that your innocent ignorance of his personal tragedy encouraged wasn't fair for you either. Precisely because you have made for yourself a little spot in his heart, he had to do better and make you see you deserved more than an infatuation with a doomed man whose ultimate wish was following his murdered family in the afterlife.

A cheerfull man who still had life to give and his whole heart for you was what a woman as lovely as you trully deserved. If he would have been captured as someone with nothing else to mourn for but the loss of his freedom, fighting to get it back knowing you would be waiting for him could have been the perfect deal. It wasn't the case, but you didn't know that and he couldn't be feeding that hope.

It occured to him that the best way to put you in the right path without breaking your heart or revealing his past was finding the right man for you, or at least the most adequate option available. From all the other gladiators, it was clear that you were closer with the german. Juba was becoming another close favorite too, but ever since he told you about his wife and daughters you had respectfully toned down the praise on him. In contrast, Haken seemed to love every instant of your attention and often played to impress you whenever you would catch him during trainings.

Energic and vivacious as his arrogance allowed, he was the onlyone finding some amusement in his enforced role. His crave for freedom didn't imply a complete disdain of being a gladiator. Only he felt comfortable enough in the cruel settling to be pulling jokes all the time and no shadows of the past seemed to be tormenting him. Haken was a man seeking freedom with the intention of living a plenty life, but he never stopped living.

If betting on a freed gladiator was an option you considered, that one was your perfect deal. In his empty life there was plenty of space for someone like you and he had a strong will to live. It was a convenient arrangement for your father as well, given someone so involved in the functioning of the school could be a good heir for his business. Maybe someday after his revenge would be concreted, when he himself probably wouldn't be there to see it, Maximus believed Haken could eventually be able to win his freedom. Considering how his carelessly individualistic attitudes contrasting with your kindness weren't an obstacle in your process of befriending him, he could guess you had better chances with him.

Despite his differences with the german made him suspect you were perhaps too good for him, that man had everything he himself wouldn't be able to give you. Seeing his act of rude bastard crash in pieces when you would softly reprimand him for being unnecessary mean to the weaker men made him suspect you would get something good out of him.

After falling to notice he had inpulsively accepted your strange invitation, Maximus decided he could use that to twist your expectations. He had no doubt that you would be trying to impress him as the maiden that seeks to catch a potential suitor of her wants, but he was one step ahead and would present you with another one instead. Intially, he sincerely thought you wouldn't get away with such insane idea, but he underestimated how much Proximo enjoyed of any reminiscenses to the glorious side of being a champion. For once, one of your weird occurences got him excited and invested. You two resembled a lovely family whenever you would pass by to consult him on the rushed planifications you were working on.

As expected, news about a trip to Rome to fight in the Colosseum and an upcoming previous celebration for the best champions of the school were of great interest for Haken. He looked foward it with increasing excitement, wishfull of the glory an honors. Humble and reserved, Juba initially showed to be disconcerted about being selected to receive a distinction. However, watching his friend work the ego of the german without any explanations for the sudden shift made him suspect he could be making him participant of some joke.

In his role of quiet observant, he eventually figured out the direction of his plan and subtly shared his mind at one particular ocasion in which the Spaniard returned to sit beside him after leaving you in company of his nearest contestant of the arena.

" You like her, but you push her away."

His friend remained in silence, to what he insisted from a more specific approach.

" He has been here for longer than us ... Don't you think that she would have tried it if that was her interest? "

To Juba's complicit chuckling, he found himself cornered to reply.

" What would you do in my place? Mine isn't a life anymore, just surviving and waiting. "

Unlike anyone else, he knew some truths that came from the deeepness of his heart. The longing for his wife and son, his hopeless crave for spiritual rest found only in seeing them again.

The reason why you had no future with him, why he would never be able of giving you back a sparkle of the light you brought to his life.

" You choose how to wait, and you can decide not to do it in agony. " The numidian adviced, with his usual comforting, wise-sounding calm. " She wants you to live again and that wouldn't damage you, ... unless ... "

He stopped himself for an instant, feeling the inquisitive glance of his fellow gladiator.

" ... Unless you don't want to find worthy delayments in the way. "

The Spaniard smiled, then turned his gaze at the scene he created.

" His only wait is the time of fighting that separates him from living free, and look how happy they are. "

They observed how Haken was bending down to hear you better on whatever you were telling him. His response lead to chuckling and after you playfully smacked his shoulder, he grabbed your hand to kiss it.

However, as soon as the interaction ended your eyes were back on the Spaniard. The lovely smile you showed him on your way out still managed to cause a subtle warmth of his stoich semblance.

Juba laughed harder that time, remembering to hold on untill you wouldn't be able to hear him.

It was hard, but Maximus had to admit to himself that he had no idea of what to do with you. He enjoyed your friendship, yet he feared you were expecting something more. Part of him was terrified to start getting accustomed, of reaching a point in which he would be wanting to hear your offer ... To give in, to one day realize he had fallen in love with you.

He desperately needed you to fall for someone else before it would be too late for him. The fate awaiting him in Rome was not of your business, all he would have for you there was a promise of protecting you from Commodus or any of his men. A direct meeting between you and the emperor was less likely than what his obsessive worry would make him suspect, but with a bastard like him he could never be sure of anything. You weren't naive or foolish, but your natural inclination to sweetly intervene in favor of broken men would turn incredibly dangerous in his presence.

If you managed to shake a few certainities on a centered man with a clear mind, his deranged and directionless enemy starved for affection he didn't deserve could find in you exactly what he wanted. Maximus was aware that any connection to him Commodus could find would bring him to you.

After a lifetime of treacherous crave for everything he achieved, the emperor wouldn't resist it. Coming to you with fake softness, like the snake he was, making you doubt of the stranger that told you nothing about himself and crushed your ilusions when your protection stopped being usefull. Pretending he was the one coming to rescue you from his lies, charming you with the acting of well spoken prince so you would make him the new target of your admiration.

For the good of everyone, you needed to arrive in Rome under the effect of another infatuation. He himself wasn't in the position of surrending himself to those feelings again, but the german was free of sentimental attachements and was going to need of a consolation prize once he would have realized the master didn't have the greatest aspirations settled on him anymore.

Once he finally convinced himself to be proceeding under the will to do the right thing, even Proximo seemed to have turned against his intentions with his sudden support. Not of your interest in him, but of his future as a champion, yet there was no doubt that could be potentially encouraging to you. The mere idea of his owner wanting him as a future son in law to teach in the business was amusing, but perhaps not impossible to envision for his enamored daughter.

The night of the party all three guests were adorned with tunics of a neat white after their respective proper baths, like house guests would following roman traditions. Like he did from the very first moment that he saw you, the general turned gladiator got from you once more an accidental sense of returned familiarity with the life he left behind. A taste of the human condition teasing him, inspiring him in what you believed was only about the search for his freedom from the emperor.

At the receivement on the halls of the master there were plenty of wonders to surpass the expectations, but one in particular captured stares ahead of everything else. Patiently awaiting for them at the center of the scene, you looked beautifull to the point of cruelty. With your lose hair perfectly styled, wearing a green dress of a carefully crafted asymetric cut that made the skirt fall slightly shorter in on leg and was leaving one of your shoulders completely exposed. An embroidered mantle protected it untill the excitement of the arrivals made you leave it behind and the rescued scribe right behind you acting like a manservant received it with a quiet smile.

Like never seen before in your modest ways of dressing, the strands of matching craft tied arround your waist to secure the fitting of the dress followed your figure with gentle accuracy. Feminine curves enhaced with decorum, but so easily distracting for the eyes of any man. Small glimpses of nervousy in your lovely face, and evidence of a subtle make up done for the ocassion, completed the confirmation from some of the early guesses the spaniard gladiator had.

At least from your perspective, that was all for him. For his eyes to wander lost and numb his reason like if he could ever be a suitor you would be in condition of catching. Seeing you made him feel flattered, even honored, but unworthy of such adoration. His words the day you meet fell short to the painfully beautifull spectacle you were providing, like a young Helen receving her suitors in Sparta.

Probably enraptured in similar observations, or circunstantially charmed in the surprise, Haken practically pushed him so he would be the one reaching you first. Juba didn't miss the move and limited himself to give a mocking glance to his spaniard friend reminding him on that of his warnings.

" This must be the highest rewarding ludus of the empire! Your looks alone are worth for a hundred more deaths by my hand, dear friend."

His praise made you chuckle, but you didn't delay in returning the gesture.

" And I can still see those huge muscles because we never find anything that fits you the way it should, but after all that is exactly what the crowd wants! We will have to protect you from the lust of the rich roman matrons, my germanic god."

From his seat at the head of the table, Proximo corrected with an autoritative mockery that in that image made him resemble the parody of a cheerfull king in the feast.

" For what? We know he is going to throw himself at the herd of screaming women."

The mischievous smile of the german left the matter dubious, not denying or comfirming anything to him untill directing a cheerfull excuse to you.

" ... You will always be my favorite. "

To a sweet look of yours with your arms stretched up, he catched you for a warm hug as salute and then kept playing with you even after you were released from his strong grip.

" Do a little show off for the invitees, let them see what their suffering pays for." He suggested in friendly mocks, taking your hand in order to guide a slow twirl. " That's a really nice dress."

A brief instant of amusing complicity with the others occured as he shared the sight for them, small truce with the spaniard with the mere object of sharing their impression.

" Very nice. " Juba agreed first, politely unimpressed. " … but I still don't see why all of this was done for three slaves. "

Vigilant through the whole interaction, the eye of the father was a more subtle threat than usual. The little indulgence of his men didn't upset him as much as that comment did.

" You are not simple slaves, you are gladiators. " Proximo corrected, serious as if he had been offended. " If you haven't learn the difference yet, Rome will show it to you. That's why she kindly prepared this exercise for you: those who don't like honors need to get used, and those who enjoy those too much need to keep their minds awake or perish for their blindness. "

Guessing himself as the target of the last attack, the german responded with more mockery.

" Are you giving up on finding her a husband outside the circles of old gamblers that frequent you? Perhaps you would have more luck offering her as prize for the last one standing. "

You were surprised by the daring joke, but your laughter was the facade of your eyes chasing the spaniard for a reaction. His usual silence had been prolonged for too long and you started wondering what he could be thinking of you, of the reward you pulled for him, and of the casually presented hipotetical situation implied in the comment. Whatever your father answered to the provocation of your friend defending his honor, you didn't listen for being entranced on the sight of the spaniard and the intensity of his blue eyes fixated on you.

He remembered his plan, and was still aware of his duty saving you from himself on the quest for justice that was his most intimate priority leaving no space for second thoughts. However, something didn't feel right in the jokes of the german adquiring a shade of truth. It was precisely what he needed, a promising first step for you two getting together so you could find a less disgraced fate for your affections, but giving up to those by himself wasn't as easy as he once thought.

After one more instant of silent contemplation, and careless as you were for the course of the conversation, he told you exactly what he wanted to say.

" Is this the beauty we must pay with blood? How many men have died so we will get here to be gifted with one peek at your fanciest looks? … And yet, now that I see you, I can't say it was all in vain."

Nobody saw it coming, except perhaps his confidant numidian, and it certainly managed to amaze you more than anything you had ever heard from gladiators in the mood of practicing politeness. Reminiscense of your inside joke that sounded too personal to be mere jesting.

Trying to escape the inminent flustered reaction that would leave you in evidence through the blatant contrast on your salute to the gladiator, you turned back for a neutral approach doing a general comment on his.

" The romans will not believe this, Pa. We have a hero of the epic times, he even speaks like one ..."

Wisely cooling you down with his cynicsm, Proximo ruined the moment with his unamused reception of your appreciation.

" Guide Achilles to take his seat and let's begin, finding you doing the cooking was already a feat."

You accompanied everyone stiffling a chuckle, not precisely because of the callout made to you, but to the performance of the spaniard as an angry butcher screaming with brutal honesty to the crowd he despised. While every man took his distributed position, the joke left an aftertought that you couldn't keep to yourself.

"Achilles and Hector must have made a pact in the Underworld because both wanted to reborn in you, Spaniard."

You weren't ready for the lovely smirk the polite praise, aparently directed only to his gladiator persona on the arena, had accidentally caused. Despite way more subtle than your friendly, yet shamelessly playfull teasing with Haken, the intimate understandment going on made it land differently.

"I am amazed you got time to lead the cooking and then work in your looks with such great detail in both tasks. I didn't imagine you as a perfectionist."

Heading in the opposite direction to claim your space in front of them, you responded with pleased mischievousness.

" You are not the onlyone who is full of surprises, ... and I got a great one for you. "

To a sign you gave, the scribe brought you back the mantle and you whispered him to help out pouring the wine from a nearby krater.

" Father wants to test as many uses as we can give of him, and I feel like one of those rich roman ladies with their educated greek manservants. For me this is also a testing exercise for the life in the capital, he will be evaluating my banquet manners." You explained for everyone, then subtly redirected your words to him. " I got you spaniard wine, turns out Pa keeps his storages well supplied. "

A quick look at the table showed how much effort you put on making them feel like free men having dinner in the house of a business associate. Roasted lamb, pork stewed with apples and even honey glazed mushrooms were on sight, among many other foods that wouldn't be normally destined to slaves. Breads of many types, kindly different from the one accustomed to be served with their usual Puls. No more fava beans, what everyone was thankfull of, but plates of cheese or fruit served instead. The small touch of a bowl with garum let Maximus know whoever you used to cook for before had roman tastes. He found a confirmation when you bragged a little bit about the Savillum awaiting them near the end of the meal, dish that you had to explain to the other gladiators.

You soon got them invested in a talk about the foods they remembered from their countries, telling on your part some food related anecdotes from your past in the countryfield villa. Proximo casually critiziced the guardians of your early years, claiming the owner of the place was an intelectual that despised the arena but liked bucolic poetry without having worked his fields for a single day of his life. He sounded very satisfied of having rescued you from them, but the Spaniard identified in his claims more than that arrogant relief of being your savior.

A certain cheer of knowing he would get to spend his old age in company of a daughter that admired him, since those intelectuals he cursed couldn't poison her mind against him. Despite he would never say it out loud, choosing to take you with him wasn't a mere act of rescue happening after he acknowledged your existence. Getting to be a father as an old man must have been a strange, late joy for him.

In his reproaches followed by reluctant indulgences there was proof that you were the only thing Proximo cared about more than riches. For once, the general turned gladiator could relate to his perspective.

As parents they got reversed fates: his master finding a daughter late while he himself had lost his boy too early. In the silly anecdots about you driving him crazy that your father started sharing for those who didn't got to witness many, Maximus found a strange remembrance for what he lost. While Juba felt somewhat encouraged by the context to tell you bits about his daughters, he couldn't speak of his son.

The weight of his memory renewed his strenghts, and he noticed Haken was getting bored at that point of the talk because he was probably the only man there who haven't been a father yet. He certainly mentioned to never have had a wife, and that was an excellent point to start planting seeds between the two of you.

" You are always very vocal about your chances to win the freedom we all chase. If you make it, you must start thinking in one. " He casually commented, a disguised advice. " There is no greater joy for the free man than going back home to find the smile of his lovely wife. No amount of paid company will give you that, the most experienced prostitute won't replicate the passion of a wife giving herself to you out of love."

The recommendation was very unexpected, specially because the german didn't want any kindness from his contestant.

" Who would have thought the Spaniard is a hopeless romantic? " Haken teased him towards you. " Is that why you like him?"

Being midly exposed left you out of options and you decided to escape with a joke.

" He may appear to the crowd as an unstoppable force of destruction, but he is the sweetest. "

Your father limited you on purpose becase he wanted to make a speech and bring back some seriousness to the moment. It was deviating too far of his own interests, which weren't the spread of sentimentalisms or watching you flirt with the Spaniard.

" One obvious reason why my sentimental daughter has convinced me of giving you this early show of what glory can bring you, it's because some of you simply won't make it … Not at least in your current conditions. " He began, airs of greatness coming from his past speaking for him. " Rome is not forgiving of the mistakes you three make surviving the province. In the sand of the Coliseum, magnificent beyond your wildest dreams, even your most trusted strenghts can morph into weaknesses. "

He made a brief pause evaluating the reactions before delivering his strongest conclussion.

" Being the strongest won't save you, going unnoticed is a death sentence from the crowd, and rabid butchering followed of insults won't impress them. You may think I am not to be trusted, but there is wisedom in my words you are invited to take. "

The three gladiators looked at their sides, silently attributing to each other every critic. Seeing that your father was about to scare them, you rephrased the intentionality of his speech.

" If of me depended, the three of you would find freedom in Rome. I watched you fight, mourn and laugh. You all deserve it, maybe more than anyone else here. " You suddenly interrupted, in a ceremonial yet comforting tone. " If I could, I would face the Emperor for you. I would beg the son of Marcus Aurelius to have one more mercy with this family and release my friends, the best gladiators I ever had the honor of meeting in my father's home."

The mere idea raised concern on the Spaniard. He knew that, for him and out of loyalty to everyone else there, you could be able of trying such reckless movement. You would do anything believing to be helping his cause, lovely infatuated as you were.

" I have no doubt that you would, that's why your father will have to keep you well surveiled."

He gave you a mischievously reprehensive look and you hid the reaction giving a sip of wine.

" It's good to know all of us count with your support. " Juba completed, with calm relief. " You said you don't like to play favorites, but the crowd does. "

" We are her favorites, but I got to keep her by my side the longest. " Haken pridefully corrected. " You see, she is like a good luck charm: the men she grows fond of always prosper. "

" There are exceptions, like this greek eunuch " Proximo mocked his superstitious talking by pointing at the scribe. " His only use is to keep her entertained as a companion. "

" He will prove himself to you, just like the Spaniard did." You defended the man, curiously glancing at the gladiator instead. " Blame me for having faith, but he deserves it."

The bright in your eyes left him no space for doubts, he knew you weren't really talking about the scribe. For as long as he was forced to endure more of Proximo's tecnical complains on the perfomances of his men regarding the challening tastes and demmands of romans, your reassuring expressions reacting to each remark eased the situation for him.

For as much as you bragged about the dessert you successfully prepared, or the wine you got in honor of his home, neither of those details were the biggest surprise you had in mind. Certain aspects of your planification escaped even your expressed saids to your father, who would end up as surprised as the guests of your table when you cheerfully announced you would bring entertainment for them.

Near the end of the meal, when everyone was quite saciated from food, drinks and conversation, you pridefully stood up as a follow up from the claim that kept the men struggling to guess what would be your next step.

" This is a home of performers, so tonight it is my wish to perform for your entertainment. " You sweetly informed. " Unfortunately for us, I am not instructed in many arts, but I will offer you the one I believe my finest. "

You looked at your father with a cheerfull smile, easing him and looking for his approbation in the same action.

" I have been told that, in Rome, people are fond of acts that tell stories. Gladiatorial spectacles are sometimes structured as stories that narrate the victories of the past for the glory of it. For this, I am going to enact a little tale for you in my singing. "

The introduction made you sound like you were about to become the master of ceremonies of your own act, to what you proceeded into a detailed narration.

" Going back long before Mars loved the virgin Silvia, when Aeneas was still in Troy, yet not remained there for too long. The ruse of Odysseus to conquer the brightfull city had worked, and the greek warriors awaited inside of the giant wooden horse. Undetected by the citizens they were, untill the doubtfull scheming of one among them put their feat in great risk."

Noticing the mood of the small audience, you saw the gladiators in attentive silence and a smile in your father's face. He looked almost proud, and that would only encouraged you.

" In slow, gallant pace, Helen circled the horse three times calling for the greeks. One by one, in her voice they heard the voices of their distant wifes. The memory of their loved ones torturing them, blessing them, invited them to expose themselves in risk of their own survival. Believing to be reuniting with his wife, one man responding to her and the so longed vengeance would have been ruined. "

Something had changed in the calm semblance of the Spaniard, like a sudden fright imperceptible enough for most. Seeing this shift inspired you to shorten the explanations.

" Far from seeking to torture you, I invite you to relax and find in my voice the call of your merriest thoughts. "

Taking a guess in what you were about to do, your father stepped aside. Curiosity kept him surveiling the scene instead of calling him to stop you because it showed him how much attention you have put listening to his tales, how you looked up to him. Being the master of ceremonies of her own arena, his girl had presented herself to perform like an entertainer.

It was adorable, so he could only allow you the creative freedom taking distance alongside the scribe.

Enacting the scene you had just narrated, you began to pace around the gladiators singing about a young wife waiting for her husband describing him between declarations of love and longing. Slow, but confident were your steps circling the table, and you gave yourself completely to the performance adding little seductive quircks through an acting. Juba, the onlyone you knew to be a married man, took it as your well intentioned try to comfort him and inspire him. Your approach of him was perhaps more modest an innocent for this cause, what he appreciated.

If they would have been the crew of hidden greeks, Haken was perhaps the one closer to sentence everyone else to a certain death falling for your act. He would follow it whenever your attention was back on him, clearly responding with cheerfull enjoyment. If your hand would give a brief caress to his cheek, he would grab it to keep it still for just a bit longer, then tilt his head following your way with a smirk. In direct contrast with him was the Spaniard, biggest challenge on the crowd, precisely the one whose cheer you craved for the most.

Unamusement wasn't the source of his gelid receivement, but pretty much the opposite. Conflicted feelings and the incredible coincidence had frozen him on the spot to contemplate you in awe. You knew nothing about him, but in the choice of an act to get his attention you touched the core of his heart. Like the autentical Odysseus of the scene, he resisted with prudence in awareness that his plan for vengeance would be ruined once he would have given in to you. Like Helen tempting the men with the echoes of their wives, you were offering him a second chance in life if he would just take you. The whole gathering was your subtle proposal to him, showing over and over how much of a great wife you could be once he would have obtained his freedom. With a voice as bewitching as your image, you were determined to charm him in particular. The flirty manners with rest were collateral, part of a performance to appear less obvious.

Trapped between his enjoyment of the dangerously ethereal beauty in the performance and the melancholy for his tragically lost love that you had accidentally evoked, he stayed still as emotions overwhelmed him. Lacking a response must have been frustrating for you, but instead of ruining the act with tears of rejectment released in advance you embraced the role even harder.

The last notes came out as you cuped both of his cheeks, tilting his head slightly upwards teasing a kiss that would never happen. His challenging composure, and the tension building up between you, strangely reminded of the moment you meet him.

Good timing in the humor of your german friend saved everyone.

" ... And they say she can't find a husband because of us! "

The choir of laughter and clapping iniciated eased the situation. With the room cheering for you, only your beloved remained silent.

Ríght after your little thankfull salute, you teased him about it.

" At risk of sounding reiterative, I have to ask … Are you not entertained, Spaniard? "

He smiled as if nothing had happened, trying to fool you and himself equally.

" Not more than you want me to be … I think the german cheered the loudest"

You smirked, then pretended to be offended by the neutral review.

" Even after I played the role you found me? Well, I guess I owe myself to my audience then."

You blew a kiss for Haken and he gave you a cheeky wink.

" My friend! If only I was a free man ... you would be suffering no longer. "

You laughed together, untill he pushed Juba a little bit just to be able to round you against him with one arm.

Proximo respected the artistic liberties, but the disruptive time had ended with your performance and he was ready to reinforce the limits.

" You must be drunk off your ass if you think I would ever give her away to you."

His voice reminded you of his presence and you rushed towards him with excitement.

" Pa!! Aren't you going to talk of my act? I didn't tell you about it so you wouldn't have an evaluation ready. "

Noticing you were awaiting with expectation made him more proclive to allow himself a cheerfull reaction even if his men were nearby.

" And when was I supposed to find out my girl is a songbird with acting skills? " He praised you right away. " I allways suspected that you could be more than the country peasant they raised you as. It runs in your blood … You are an entertainer, just like your father! "

Careless for anything else to his display of pride, you hugged him as he kept cheering out loud.

" We will get filthy rich!! Perfect the act, repeat it in a roman banquet, and you will get a herd of wealthy men bringing gifts. If the rumours spread far enough and your fame grows, maybe one day you may even perform for the young emperor. "

His observations got you in blissfull disbelief, so after releasing him you objected the too grandious ideation.

" I was just playing for my friends! I found my voice singing to entertain myself in the farm. You can't possibly think I can become that good."

Before he would get to reply, and faithfull to his strange compulsion, the Spaniard interrupted.

" Are you thinking of selling your own daughter to Commodus now that you found an exploitable talent of hers? That's low, Proximo. Even for you."

" My darling, he worries for me!! " You commented with delight getting your attention briefly back in him. " Fear not, I will explain him. "

Trying to sound as nice as you could, you revealed the small infidence he once made you.

" You know I don't like to critizice your business associates, so I tried to say nothing for as long as I could. Spaniard heard rumours in the legion … And that man? He is bad as disease. "

The reprobatory nod you gave was funny, but it didn't manage to convince your father.

" Why should we believe in him? He didn't even bother to tell us his name."

It was a plausible answer, but the gladiator had something ready for it.

" You don't have to, but there is wisedom in my words you are invited to take. "

Twisting the very own rethoric used on him earlier granted him a partial victory, and when you smiled for him from afar once more, the passion he only allowed himself to unleash through protectiveness found its correct outlet.

" Eres preciosa, … y no permitiré que ese hijo de puta te mire siquiera. "

Evidently impressed and slightly frightened, the scribe ended up exposing him.

" That's not something very appropiate to say about the Emperor of Rome. "

Making himself an echo of the collective surprise, Juba questioned him with increasing curiousity.

" Is his one of the seven languages? "

" Tell us what he said. " Haken followed. " I don't like his wicked grin, I could swear he is up to something."

The greek was all smiles seeing his skills were suddenly acknowledged.

"Indeed, I understand him … but I owe myself to my lady so you can ask her the full translation later. "

He was having a very particular little vengeance against the one who mocked him the loudest for his desperation at the arrival to the school. Perhaps encouraged by your protection, he mischievously showed off in front of the arrogant though whispering you the answer.

You eyes were open wide to the words he murmured, envisiong the meaning in the intense feeling that the original pronunciation gave you. According to your loyal accomplice, the Spaniard had said that he wouldn't allow the emperor, adressed in heavy curse words, to have even one peek of your beauty.

Shielding him with your lies, you mockfully repeated only the part in which he cursed Commodus so everyone could laugh and forget about it.

Was it merely a strong sense of protectiveness? Preventive jealousy? You couldn't possibly tell and it was driving you crazy. He spent the rest of the night being elusive of you, shielding himself in the extroverted nature of Haken so you could never approach him directly again like you have done before. Even his reserved best friend had became more talkative, or at least not subtly closed to your attempts of interact.

Progress made was completely lost, since he had shutted himself down again. Confused by the overal mistery that the man was, but at least happy for the good time you spent near all the other men, you could still say that your merry gathering was a success. Nice closure for one stage at the gateway for the biggest challenge of your lives: facing the great city. For them? The most brutal, and most glorious arena in the world. For you, it would be feeling small again fearing to stumble with the family of your mother. If she still lived, would you find her on the streets and not recognize her unless your father would be there to tell you? Those were things in which you prefered not to think about, or otherwise you would not be able to follow his excitement about leaving the province.

The success waiting for him, all the luxurious wonders of the capital, and your beloved gladiators proving their quality were merriest thoughts. And however, your wishfull thinking couldn't help going back to the same idea. A freshly freed Spaniard, triumphant despite his personal disdain for the emperor, finding his way in the capital. Carrying you in his arms to cross the threshold of his new home, that would be your home.

In the tangled mess of your fantasies you found at least one root of his strange behavior, and you couldn't believe how you couldn't see it before. The matter couldn't wait untill the next day, but you couldn't discuss it in front of your father, so you proceeded exactly in the way you have mastered.

Sneaking to the cages, even if it was a scandalous hour, so the guards will let you confront him before he would be locked up again. Seeing you arrive didn't surprise him, and having an accusing finger pointed at him even before privacy would allow you to be clear was enough to guess your motive.

" You have been trying to set me up with Haken the entire night … Why?? And don't dare to bring a man that has nothing to be with us into this again. "

He decided to defend himself being completely honest with you, even if that would expose you both to the uncomfortable truths.

" I did what a good friend does, helping you search a prospect seeing you started considering close to be liberted gladiators as a possible marriage strategy."

The callout hitted you strong, but you tried to save your dignity.

" That's absurd! And you clearly don't know him like i do, his jokes mean nothing. Haken won't be looking for a wife anytime soon."

Saying that, to change that, you just had to give him enough time behaving for him in the exact same way you would do for he himself would have been too provoking. It would have angered you, potentially exposing himself as well.

" But you think I will, … ever since you found out i want to win my freedom. You spoiled me so much tonight in order to prove me you could be a good wife. "

" Can you blame me for trying? After all, free men need wives. " You defended yourself. " Besides, you are very different from what one can expect from a champion. You rejected the pleasurable companies offered to you, and that persuasive little speech about the uniqueness of marital lovemaking made me guess you dream with finding a woman you can call your own. "

If there was a moment worthy of being direct, or at least teasing glimpses of his past to help you understand his attitude, it was precisely then. Knowing Rome was near meant for Maximus that, the less you would knew about him, the safest would be for you.

" Following me will keep you chasing ghosts, you are in love with a shadow. How can you be seeking to pursue a future alongside a man you don't know at all?"

His hands were holding your shoulders, more as a caress than a as a pressing grab, and he stared deeply into your eyes as he awaited for an answer.

It made you melt towards him, even if he seemed closer than ever to breaking your heart.

" Because every small discovering of him amazes me a little more, and every single day I wake up more in love than the night before. If I would have found my feelings completely denied, I would have desisted a long time ago. I can tell when I am not wanted, and I respect it, ... but everytime I think you are about to deny me you prove me otherwise. "

Your confused frustration was his fault, a mistake he had to ammend in the kindest way possible.

" Your are so close to make me love you, but I am not meant to have you. I can't afford this, neither it would be fair for you to take the load of treating wounds from my past. The tender flesh is still bleeding from a damage so deep they will never close. The german has only old scars, and sees a bright future ahead for himself."

The confession was stained by the cryptic phrasing surrounding it.

" Spaniard, you claim to be protecting me, but you are obsessed in speculating with other men's desires. You want Haken to fall for me arguing it's for my own good, you have this insane fear that the Emperor himself could want me if we ever meet because he is dangerous… How about you? Have you figured out how you feel for me?"

You took one of his hands and moved it close to your chest, pressing untill he would be able to feel the fastening beatings.

" Can you feel it raise for you? It's yours, even if I have no name for the only man that makes my heart beat like this. "

Intimacy as such was torture for the man in that context. Unable to respond, but craving to do so.

" You will get all the answers soon, I promise. "

The tranquilizing claim managed to make you smile, but it wasn't enough to satisfy your passionate curiosity.

" Can I get a kiss now? "

Your eyes searched for an answer in his face with wondering adoration and even despite the bad ilumination of the enviroment, he still found you lovely.

Gently cuping your cheeks to pull you closer towards him, he granted your wish for a kiss that was exactly as sweet and tender as he had imagined on how you deserved to be kissed.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

NOOOO NOT KONIG AS A SPARTAN/GREEK WARRIOR I CANNOT HAVE THAT IMAGE IN MY BRAIN I STILL NEED TO FUNCTION ON THE DAILY DAMNIT😭😭😭

I am a sucker for the warrior claims his spoils of war trope, the whole achilles/briseis from the troy movie vibes💕😫👌🏻 but with a twist 👀

König, the infamous Germanic warrior and beast of a man who has a unique station as commander in the troops of the romans (or something??? lmao don’t @me my brain rot is not historically accurate) because he possesses the perfect balanced mixture of inhuman strength and a cunning strategic mind. Hacking and slashing his way through battle after battle, some call him Ares, the God of War, because they’re convinced that whatever must be under that helmet and hood can’t be an actual human being. He seems to be living and breathing for war and the shedding of blood. That is until during one of his battles he finds himself in the raided temple of Artemis, face to face with a temple maiden who isn’t raped and pillaged by his men. Whether it’s a curse or a blessing from the Gods, he doesn’t know but he falls, and he falls hard for her. Blood is pumping to his heart, which is about to beat its way through his chest, and racing down to his dick which is even harder than after a successful battle. “An Engel” he mutters to himself, and that’s the first time the God of War takes a spoil of war, his very own temple maiden who from now on will only worship him and him alone.

König would be such a hot Spartan warrior/Greek demigod but PLEASE, you have to listen and listen carefully because… König could easily be a prominent figure in the Roman army! They had auxiliary units, Romans used “foreign” warriors all the time, Gauls and German/ic people and whatever, that’s the whole idea behind their expansion idea: to fatten their army with new recruits to push their campaigns and get more slaves to support their crazy economy etc etc

So König could be situated in say for example Germania Superior/Inferior, Raetia or Noricum auxiliary unit, I don’t know what Romans called Austria back then and if they had a separate aux. unit for them, I need to do some googling, if someone knows more about this please correct me! But *grabs you by your bra straps or shirt or whatever* you need to listen, Romans didn’t send their Auxilia to the troops’ native lands which means König would not be posted in Germania/whatever Austria was called BUT he could fight in basically any other area, and get his captive girl from some other bloody sexy violent awesome campaign!!! (Lol why am I so into this idea of him capturing some poor girl into his tent and having his way with her… I’m sorry I need to straighten my skirt and sit pretty with my knees pressed tightly together, nothing to see here, just sippin’ my tea)

No but srsly, NO, now I have to write this. Brb ->

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Mission Parameters - 1/?

Written in conjuction with @bloodgulchblog's Touchstone way back last December when we both started throwing MillerChief (we can't keep calling it Milf) ideas around. Not quite ready to post in its entirety but I wanted to share a chunk for Potluck2024

To the dozens of you who now care about/ know who Miller is, thank you for playing in this space with us.

-

Spartans aren’t machines.

It’s a truth, a hard one that he’s having a difficult time internalizing. He understands on some level, but John’s never been one to include himself in any sort of kindness. Knowing something is one thing, believing it is harder. Especially when he wasn’t made to believe. He was made into a tool in order to spare others. He was made into a symbol to inspire them, to encourage more sacrifices that he thought they’d be spared from. They believe in him, even though he fails - even though he’s an imperfect paradox. He knows it is his burden to bear. John had not been happy to learn about the generations after him. Another bitter pill to swallow. Another truth; the UNSC, the UEG, and ONI would do everything in their power to maintain and grow their grip on survival and victory. That was a truth he knew and believed. He had had his part in that, in saving humanity he told himself, but now it was looking like that part may be over.

The IIIs surprised him, but they were familiar, having lived the majority of their lives as Spartans. They moved like Spartans, walked and talked like Spartans, were off-kilter amongst civilians like Spartans. The IVs were a different beast altogether- still Spartans, but with all the lived experiences of Helljumpers, SpecOps, and even some civilian types. Prodigies and geniuses. Spartans who chose to become a weapon-and-person. Ones who grew up hearing stories of him and decided they wanted it too- wanted to do their duty, not called upon to serve but vying for a chance to prove themselves or get even with the Covenant. Eager to become a number. Giving anything and everything to hit back.

It rankled some part of him that John tried his best not to listen to. The IIs did what had to be done. Wasn’t it supposed to stop with them? He wouldn’t wish the process on anyone, but the new hands jumped at the opportunity. They were still Spartans, but what did that mean now? Why were they still needed? And what was he supposed to do when he was outnumbered in a sea of the next model? Some of them were born after he’d put on the armor. Most of them had only ever known war, only ever seen humanity pushed to the brink. The ones he worked with were good people, but there was something sinister about the whole thing. They didn’t see him as an equal, he was a benchmark, a standard, and an unreachable one at that. The lucky one despite him hating that word. But the IVs didn’t know. He wasn’t a man or a tool to them. He was the Master Chief, the Spartan, the touchstone of the entire program-turned-branch. Their eyes glazed with propaganda and their words greased with blood. He wasn’t sure whose.

John didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Recent events have had everyone worried about John. His team is worried. Commander Palmer and Captain Lasky are worried. Admiral Hood is worried, but at least John doesn’t have to look him in the eye as often as the others. He and Blue Team have been effectively grounded and put under close watch after disobeying orders. Everyone’s worried about the Master Chief and his insubordination. A handful are worried about John 117, but there’s one person still alive who’s worried about John in the most mundane of ways.

The babysitter. One Spartan Jared Miller. The guy on the radio telling them things they already know. Except that’s not true. Truthfully- again John had to acknowledge the truths staring him in the face- truthfully, having a handler had been… interesting. Blue Team had shared looks when they were told that they were going to test out handlers to see who’d be a good fit for them. The Blue Team, legends in the field who had been in active combat longer than most of their current peers had been alive. Getting a handler for them seemed like blasphemy. But having an eye in the sky watching their backs and giving them real time updates that didn’t cost them breaking cover or silence was…nice. Nice things didn’t happen to Blue Team. Spartans weren’t given support- they were the support. They were the boots on the ground and more often than not, the fodder that threw itself on the wheels to stop the war machine from devouring humanity. Now the tools were supposed to be people and have an entire network of handlers and techs and medical crew to care for and maintain them?

John had woken up to a changed galaxy.

Under orders Kelly-087, Fred-104, Linda-058, and John-117 ran drill after drill, exercise after exercise, and every simulation the War Games AI had with the few Spartan handlers stationed on the Infinity. That’s why John even knows Miller exists; Blue Team running the gamut of exercises with each Spartan mission handler to find the best fit. They don’t need one, never had, but what it meant to be a Spartan had changed while he was away. It’s still changing, growing around and past him. John isn’t entirely sure how he feels about it. Spartans existing and being promoted in the public eye, receiving preferential treatment, being looked after and support more than he’s ever known in his entire career. It was all so uncomfortable. John had thought he’d gotten used to being uncomfortable.

Spartans were evolving and he had to get with the times in order to not be left behind. More than that, John didn’t want to be a liability to his team. He just got them back and didn’t want to lose them again. A small dark part of him wonders if they would be better off without him. An aging Spartan who had run its course and should disappear quietly rather than drag out this misery in some kind of spectacle. John was tired of being an example.

John thought Miller was doing a good job, he just needed the confidence that came with experience. He was a fine handler for Blue Team after John had slipped his leash and gone off on his own, showing some unlikable non-Spartan characteristics. After Biko. Spartan IIs didn’t get grounded, but times had changed and there was a whole branch for them now. No more operating in shadows and being more myth than fact. The brass had been unhappy at the Master Chief going AWOL, Commander Palmer had been unhappy at them going against orders and making a mess for her, and Captain Lasky had been unhappy that John had decided to run away rather than deal with his failures. John was unhappy about that as well and it was why he was here, doing this.

A self-assigned mission, to figure out and help if he could.

Miller had a hard time not getting trapped in his own head. It's something John's seen in a lot of good soldiers over the years. Many good people he’s worked with struggle with shouldering the decisions they’ve made, the things they’ve seen.. John’s no exception. Miller's… just more obvious about it.

Miller pouts, he worries, he frets. It seems like anytime John looks at the man there's some kind of doubt clouding his face. Miller sticks out among the uniform sea of techsuits and buzz cuts because it’s the one un-Spartan thing the UNSC hasn’t seemed to iron out of him yet. He’s visibly nervous all the time. It's why John approached him.

Jared Miller seemed to be the one Spartan on the ship with more obvious problems than him. John wanted to find out why. Miller was a puzzle of anxiety, almost too tightly wound for a Spartan. But then John had seen him work, listened to him deliver intel and direct his own team. Spartan Miller was a fine handler, detail-oriented, mission-focused, and quick to respond to out-of-control scenarios. He just needed confidence both on and off comms, for his own good and the good of the fireteams under his leadership.

And John was going to help him. A handful of people had always told him he needed a hobby. John didn’t know what to do with himself, so he was focusing on someone else. It helped put things into perspective in a way. The IVs confused him, in some ways more than the civilian contractors and scientists that moved easily amongst the Spartans. More than the team of techs who insisted on his care and maintenance rather than letting him do what he’s always done. The entire culture of warships had shifted while he was asleep. John was a remnant of an older age haunting the new hires. There weren’t supposed to be Spartans after his class – his family. They had been called upon to serve-taken, to endure, so that there wouldn’t be a need anymore. So to quell the storm of thoughts he got anytime he left his quarters, John decided to study Miller. Fred said he was going to give the guy complexes, but John had thought about his time since waking up and running. He could learn, and maybe he could teach.

The fact that there were two generations of Spartans after the IIs weighed on John, but it was another thing he was going to have to learn to live with. The fact that there were 300 Spartan milling about on the Infinity was mind-boggling, and he would just have to adjust. With the ship now in drydock, many of the crew were taking the rare chance to stretch their legs and go planet-side. John was not. He was avoiding his team and avoiding the looks he got. He was having a harder time adjusting than he would ever care to admit, or even think. He was finding ways to keep moving even if Blue Team’s wings were clipped. John was entertaining something with the one person who was more anxious than him and who worried about John for the wrong reasons.

He needed to stop lying to himself. They weren’t the wrong reasons, but it was a novel sensation to have someone worry about his well-being in such a mundane way. Blue Team is worried John is going to work himself to death or snap, Command is worried about that too and doing damage control to whatever next mistake he makes. Miller is worried about John’s feelings while they dance around each other in this game of almost flirting and calling bluffs. It’s a game of chicken but with what John thinks are what normal stakes look like.

[ocrkings]

Crossing The Finish Line at Spartan Race Killington #spartanrace #runnin...

[dr-futbol-blog]

Epiphany, Pt. 7

Having ventured out into the sanctuary, Sheppard was about to come across the Jabberwocky, the local boogeyman, the beast that plagues the Paradise. He hears some kind of an animal screeching or bellowing somewhere in the underbush and has his weapon at the ready. While he is concerned, given that this is literally alien terrain and there could be anything waiting out there for him, and the beast sounded pretty big besides, he is prepared to take it on. While there has probably not been a day in his life that John Sheppard has not felt fear, this is not the type of thing that frightens him, not really. This he can deal with.

Sheppard: Well, you're either gonna eat me... or I'm gonna eat you!

Sheppard quips at the beast, and this is a classic case of him using wisecracking in relieving tension. He is not actually saying it to the beast, he is saying it to himself, to boost his confidence. Similarly he does not lick his lips here because his mouth is watering over the image of him eating this tasty animal, it is his self-soothing tick, being a thing that soldiers are wont to do. Tyrteus, writing about the Spartan warriors during the Second Messenian War, described them preparing for battle: "But let everyone stand fast, with legs set well apart and both feet fixed on the ground, biting his lip with his teeth." And obviously he is saying that he is going to eat the thing that is coming at him, he is hungry enough to do just that.

What he says here is interesting in two regards. First, because the beast is actually a psychic manifestation of the sum total of the fears of the people living in the sanctuary, in a sense being "fear itself," Sheppard is essentially saying that either he must conquer his own fears or they will eat him up alive. It is very poetic, and pertinent to his character. But also, because Teer had sent her brother Avrid to meet Sheppard and he was about the spring from the bushes to meet him, Avrid being a man whose companionship Sheppard really seems to yearn for before long, promising to eat Avrid or let Avrid eat him is also fitting. It is innuendo either way. Also, there is a transition from Sheppard saying this to McKay talking about loading supplies, being consumables, meaning that both of them are thinking about eating. But at the same time, it also sort of makes McKay the "you" of the reference here because we see neither the beast nor Avrid yet.

On Atlantis, McKay, Weir and Beckett have changed their t-shirts into fatigues and seem to be on their way to the jumper bay to take off. While later on McKay questions whether it is wise for Weir to accompany them to the other side, it is entirely possible it was McKay's idea to convince Weir to come with them as far as the portal, to translate the Ancient text they had discovered there. Her skills as a diplomat are not really relevant for this mission, so it is her ability to translate Ancient that must be the reason she is even coming along. Unlike McKay and Beckett, she is not wearing a tactical vest, and is probably unarmed too.

McKay: We've loaded weeks of supplies and everything I could think of. Beckett: What are we not thinking of? Weir: Now take a minute, and be certain. If your theory is correct, you won't be able to make many of these trips. McKay: I am painfully aware of that. Weir: I remind you only because from what you've told me, rushing is what got Sheppard into trouble in the first place.

Because McKay's entire brain is on saving Sheppard, he seems to have been going over scenarios that might happen, had tried to load their jumper up with anything at all that they could need to get him out. He feels terrible about what happened and blames it entirely on himself, and for some reason Weir decides to pile it on him some more. And while she may have good intentions--she claims to want to make sure that they have everything necessary because she is so very, very worried about Sheppard--what she is actually doing here is wasting their time. She even mentions taking a "minute" here, which could mean hours for Sheppard (one minute equals around 4 hours in the sanctuary, as per Teyla's calculations).

McKay's response to Weir is the same as it had been for Sheppard in Trinity (S02E06), when he had reminded him that a member of McKay's team was in the morgue: "And I am responsible for his death, yes. I am painfully aware of that. I sent him in there and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life." His voice does not crack here as it did then but he is similarly, if not even more, affected by this, by what he sees as his own hand in things turning out this way. However, let us note that he leaves the latter part of what he said then unsaid here. If we learned something from The Hive (S02E11), it is that McKay does not think that he can live without Sheppard. He would rather give up his life in an attempt at saving him than continue living in a world where there is no Sheppard, and hence his omission here is concerning.

McKay: This was not his fault, it was mine. I should have looked more closely at the video. The clues were there before he even stepped through. Look, all I can hope to do now is fix this within his lifetime. Beckett: His lifetime? McKay: If it takes us a week to ten days to fix this, then it won't matter, because he will probably have died of old age. Weir: Oh my God.

While it is not entirely clear which one of them Weir was blaming for this (or even if he put the responsibility on both of them), it is clear as day whom McKay blames. But even so, he jumps to Sheppard's defense here, tolerating no insinuation that what had happened had in any shape or form been Sheppard's fault. And what people say about someone when they are not around to hear it is important. McKay defends Sheppard when he is not there to defend himself because that is what you do for a partner, for a significant other. And let us note again that McKay takes full responsibility for what he perceives as his mistake, naming the thing that he had done wrong. And yes, McKay probably should have looked more carefully at the video but he was clearly distracted by Sheppard's presence and this is something that gets worse and worse over time, coming to a head just before the events of Sunday (S03E17).

As discussed in connection with Weir and McKay's exchange in The Hive, when McKay was trying to tell Weir about what had happened to Sheppard and Weir was unable to understand what he was saying because he was talking about Ford instead of Sheppard, McKay had tried to tell her through circumlocution what had happened because talking directly about Sheppard seemed to be too painful for him. Here, we see why he generally does that in similar situations: when he says the words "died of old age," his voice does not just crack, his voice trembles like he was about to break out in tears right then and there. That is what he really feels, what he tries to keep from spilling out with all of his considerable ability at concealing his emotions. We see it only briefly, but the look in his eyes has such deep fear and sorrow in them that it makes him look almost childlike.

What he says here is also interesting given later events. McKay says that he is going to do everything in his power to fix this within Sheppard's lifetime. In The Last Man (S04E20), we see him spend his own entire lifetime, all the days of his life, to get Sheppard back from the future even though what had happened then was not even remotely his fault. He spends the rest of his life figuring out how to get Sheppard back to his own time when only seconds have passed for Sheppard, making it almost an inversion of what happens here. Forward, backward, compressed, dilated, submerged, theirs is a love that crosses dimensions and time.

McKay: Yeah, hence the rushing. Now, you ready? You don't look ready. Beckett: I'm ready. Weir: I need to pick up a few of my books to help with the translation. McKay: Well, we'll pick them up on the way, and I hope you've got us a real jumper pilot because I don't trust him and I can't fly the damned thing in a straight line.

It seems as though Beckett and Weir had just as hard a time wrapping their heads around this as Ronon and Teyla did, and it was only McKay painting a picture of what is about to happen that made them understand the full severity of the problem. But even in spite of that Weir wants to get a few more books just to cover her basis, and it seems to have been this book-run that gave Teer the time to enact her plan of seducing Sheppard, which will be discussed in more detail later. Also notable here is McKay's call-back to The Defiant One (S01E12) and Sheppard teaching him how to fly, which just confirms that McKay is thinking about Sheppard like that was in any doubt here, like he doesn't think about Sheppard like it's his job on the regular.

Sheppard had pointed out that McKay cannot fly in a straight line. Neither Sheppard nor McKay can navigate on the ground, meaning that while Sheppard can fly straight, he cannot walk in a straight line to save his life. McKay not flying straight is a metaphor for his sexual orientation. And since this whole episode is basically an ode to Sheppard's bisexuality, it is fitting that we rejoin him as he seems to be utterly adrift on a treeless clearing. He is about to run into Avrid, sent to receive Sheppard by his sister who seems to have known precisely what would happen here and had hence placed her brother purposefully into jeopardy. But all is fair, and all that.

Avrid: Help! Help! Help me, please! Sheppard: Where is it? Avrid: It's there! In the trees.

First of all, the meadows that Sheppard is walking on here resemble the meadows that he and McKay had had their private chat on at Ford's planet in The Lost Boys (S02E10), where he had followed McKay as though he had been a piece of metal towed by a magnet. It would be only natural for Sheppard to be thinking about McKay as he is taking a stroll through the hay here. He does miss McKay something terrible and it is not irrelevant to what takes place then.

Avrid is the first person that Sheppard runs into in what is going to become his home for six months, following probably a week of not having had any human companionship that he had desired to the point of wishing he had a volleyball to talk to. It is understandable that Avrid becomes rather important to him. Avrid gets right into Sheppard's personal space, excused by the fact that he seems very afraid of what ever appears to be chasing him. He is a beautiful man, seems to have the Ancient gene like all of the people in the sanctuary (the folks living here seem to be the closest thing to living Ancients in the galaxy), dressed in flowing white linen. He runs right up to Sheppard in need of him, and let us just take a moment to appreciate the fact that instead of sending herself or an innocent little girl to fetch Sheppard, Teer seemed to know that Sheppard's protective instincts would be triggered best by her brother here.

Sheppard: What is it? Avrid: The Beast! Sheppard: Alright, is there a safe place for us to go? Avrid: No, no, the Cloister is too far. It is upon us! Sheppard: Stay down, and stay behind me. Avrid: You can't fight it! Sheppard: Maybe we can scare it away.

What we see here is an instant rapport. They have a back-and-forth going on and they seem to move as one when Sheppard tells Avrid to duck with him, meaning that there is also a physical resonance there. Sheppard also explicitly tells Avrid to get behind him, and so does something that that we have seen him do with McKay but that has never been verbalized (and we have seen multiple examples of Sheppard not putting his body in harm's way for other people than McKay, so this is not a small thing that happens here). Also, in these few moments he has already asked Avrid more questions than he asked Neera the whole time they were locked up in a cell together. But maybe it is that Sheppard is just bereft of human company. Maybe he hopes that he can employ this man's help in getting out of here. What ever the reason, Sheppard prepares to face any kind of beast for this man and this set-up is undeniably romantic.

We have seen this exact scene play out with a man and a woman countless of times, and it has never not been romantic. Not seeing the same dynamic here when it is so readily available is largely caused by heterosexism, not just refusing to see the romantic undertones but refusing to acknowledge a man in need of and seeking physical protection from another man.

Also, it is ironic that Sheppard's plan is to scare the beast away given how the beast is comprised of the fears of the people living in the sanctuary. But alas, it appears as though this beast cannot be killed using conventional weapons. The beast seems also to be invisible to the naked eye, making it that much more difficult to conquer, and given that we just got a reference to Conan the Barbarian, we would be amiss not to mention the beast's resemblance to the Predator, another classic (unintentionally homoerotic) Arnold Schwarzenegger feature.

Sheppard: Get out of here!

This whole scene seems to be fanservice and needless eroticization of Sheppard. He is flung to the ground by the invisible beast and the way he looks behind him over his ass is a classic gay pin-up pose, and there is not a chance on God's green Earth that the director was not aware of that. Also, the camera lingers on Sheppard's package here again which the cinematographer seems to like zeroing in on. And let us also note the tantalizing stretch of skin shown as his shirt and jacket ride up here, which eroticizes Sheppard in a way few male protagonists are ever eroticized, objectified -- but just like Marty McFly was in Back to the Future, as discussed in connection with Before I Sleep (S01E15), doing the same ass-up pose and everything.

And then there is the invisible rodeo bull that Sheppard rides here with his ass up, conquering what is a rather obvious symbol of male sexuality and virility. It is made even more homoerotic by the fact that the bull is invisible and he is hence shown riding just on top of Avrid. The gay rodeo is actually a pretty interesting phenomenon, harking back to those Reagan-era attitudes toward homosexuality that both Sheppard and McKay had matured under.

The gay rodeo was established at the height of a national crisis in masculinity... A lot of Ronald Reagan’s rhetoric was about manning up after the social and cultural movements of the 1960s and 1970s. The gay rodeo pushed back on the metropolitan chauvinism of queer culture, offering exiled gay people in rural places a new home... in part because the ingrained hypermasculinity of the rodeo countered the notion that gay culture was inherently urban and effeminate.

The scene, that is, presents Sheppard in both effeminate and hypermasculine light at the same time, which is actually rather characteristic for him. He is both these things. And while Sheppard is symbolically wrestling with his fears as he literally wrestles the collective fears of the villagers here, this is also symbolic of sex. We are not shown Sheppard having sex with Avrid (we are not shown him having sex with Teer, either, it is implied), but this rough-and-tumble is definitely sexual. Sheppard uses all of his weapons, each and every one of them phallic ("This is my riffle, this is my gun, one is for fighting, one is for fun..."), in attacking the beast, definitely going at it. It also invites us to wonder what had happened between Sheppard and McKay on the meadows at Ford's planet that made it so very, very difficult for Sheppard to sit for like two episodes straight.

Alas, Sheppard loses the battle and is rendered unconscious, although he does not look unlike someone falling asleep from sheer exhaustion here. The battle took a lot out of him. He is drained. He is out of juice. He is spent. But also, let us put a pin on the fact that his tac vest, jacket and t-shirt were all torn to shreds by the claws of the beast. This will become important later on. His own tight-fitting black t-shirt is done for.

Continued in Pt. 8

[mythtaker]

Shout out to mirage from transformers rise of the beasts for spartan kicking me down the transformers rabbit hole, I'm in deep and I don't know how to get out.