#gladiator lady

[loverenaaa]

To this day this has been a commission piece I have been most proud of. This is peak shading and lighting to me.

[fsnowzombie]

Armored Lady Monday

a Triton! im gonna be playing her with some friends, shes a gladiator, ready to take the championship, she even got space on her belt for it

went with an axolotl theme for her cus i thought the pinks looked good, i like drawing tritons with a bit more fish features than what dnd has

hope you like it! full res at my patreon!

[l00k4tm4m45c415]

Erika Andersch

[frogchiro]

Ngl when you mentioned that the lady friends of Lady Jokaste would gush about Lasy-in-Waiting Reader I immediately thought of them silently competing with Gladiator Ghost for your attention :]

Honestly you're not wrong😭

It may be not that obvious and while they may not be as...passionate like Gladiator!Ghost (tbh few people are), they still would gush about poor Lady-in-Waiting😭💕

But can you blame them? They see this pretty young woman with doe eyes and the prettiest smile ever and how can they not go crazy??

They are all older than you but that just means that they have more experience and be much gentler and better with you than those silly noble boys that keep running around you and certainly better than that big brute from the coliseum that once offered you a cut off head :((

[strictauntyart]

„Best choice“

[nuclearpasta]

Joy, gladiator.

[madmanwonder]

Prompt

Crossover AU Original Male AU Slave AU: Gladiator AU

Lady Phenex watches her Slave Gladiator Issei Hyoudou combat female gladiators Mai Shiaranui and Saeko Busajima. All while determining which ones are attracted to her secret lover, and might make for good entertainment. After all, strong gladiators must produce strong children.

"Winner! Issei Hyoudou, Our Esteemed Red Dragon Emperor of Dominance claimed victoty over Mai Shiaranui the Alluring Kunoichi and Saeko Busajima the Sadistic Samurai!"

She heard the roaring cries from the audiences chearing on her secret lover who held up his weapon up in the air as he loomed over the fallen kunoichi and samurai who was semi-naked and looking at Issei with look of disbelief...and look of lust on their face as she could see the pink flush on thier cheeks and the squirming of their battered but still attractive body

"Seem like Issei's going to get himself his first harem member...and I can get to see him procreate with his strong seed." Muttered the Lady of the Phenex Clan as she eyed the fertile body of the gorgerous women who seem like they'll give Issei strong children with their baby-making body.

[russell-crowe]

overjoyed by my local thrift shop find <3

[mostsanescarletspiderfan]

The starman legacy is gigantic.

I always knew that the starman legacy was big but never really sat down to just count it you know? So today I did and holy shit it's fucking infinite, like it's not just a bunch of dudes going by starman and associates.

It's more like starman + phantom lady + star-spangled kid + girl of 1000 gimmicks/gimmic girl/gimmix?? + Manhuter + martian manhunter + brainwave + mist.

Here's the list of superheroes and btw this is by legacy and not family ties:

1) Ted knight - starman I

2) Sylvester Pemberton - star-spangled kid I, skyman I

3) Sandra Knight - phantom lady I

4) Dan Richards - manhunter I

5) Paul Kirk - manhuter II

6) Roh Kar - martian manhunter I

7) Arnold Munro - iron Munro I, gladiator one

8) Pat Dugan - Stripesy I , S.T.R.I.P.E I

9) Merry Pemberton - girl of 1000 gimmicks I

10) Doris Lee - starman II

11) The starman of 1951 - starman III

12) Mikaal Tomas - starman IV

13) Prince Gavyn - starman V

14) Henry King Jr - brainwave jr, brainwave II

15) Mark Shaw - manhuter III

16) Will Payton - starman VI

17) David knight - starman VII

18) Dee Tyler - phantom lady II

19) Jack Knight - starman VIII

20) Chase Lawer - manhunter VI

21) J'onn j'onzz - martian manhunter II

22) Courtney Whitemore - star-spangled kid II, star girl I, starwoman I (IX)

23) Stormy Knight - Phantom lady III

24) Jacqueline Pemberton - Gimmic girl, gimmix

25) Jennifer knight - phantom lady IV

26) Kirk DePaul - manhuter V

27) Kate Spencer - manhuter VI

28) M'gann M'orzz - miss martian, martian manhunter III

29) Jacob Colby - skyman II

30) Mike Dugan - Stripesy II, S.T.R.I.P.E II

31) Sophia Becker - Phantom lady V

32) Patricia Dugan - starwoman II (X)

33) Ramsey Robinson - manhuter VII

34) Kyle knight - mist III

35) Thom Kallor - Starboy - starman XI

36) Farris Knight - starman XII

12 starmans, 7 manhunters, 5 phantom ladies, 3 martian manhunters, 2 gimmic girls, 2 S.T.R.I.P.ES, 2 skymans, 2 star-spangled kids, 1 brainwave, 1 iron Munro and 1 mist.

I say only superheroes because a lot of these people have supervillain relatives, it's also interesting to note that this the oldest super powered lineage in DC because Ramsey Robinson is the great-great-grandson of Hugo Munro the protagonist of the 1930 novel called Gladiator (one of the inspirations for superman) by Philip Wylie.

[cakerapop]

[whumpy-daydreams]

Remember you are a knight

been thinking about rome and gladiators recently so here have gladiator whump about a lady knight

Writing masterlist

CW: lady whump, mild gore, forced to kill

The shouts from the arena were muffled by thick stone walls that kept the air cool. Ylja could picture what was happening by the cheers and screams and groans of the crowd, imagining how blood soaked into sand, bright at first before darkening into an iron-stained brown.

She paced, clenching and flexing her right hand - any way to relieve the rage filled tension building in her muscles.

Rage against being cooped up, rage against the costume she’d been forced into, at the crowd high above her, at the commander she’d failed to kill. The commander who had sent her to die for other people’s entertainment.

You are still a knight, she reminded herself. Remember your dignity.

Noise from outside the cell stilled her agitated pacing. Not the yells of other prisoners, nor the raucous noise from the arena itself, but someone walking, the sound deadened by the sand yet still echoing against the walls. 

One of the overseers stopped before her. Dressed in the simple tunic and leather cuirass that denoted him as one of the lower ranking trainers, he looked her up and down before unlocking the cell door.

“You’re next to fight. Follow me.” He moved back, already turning to walk back down the corridor. The way he seemed so sure she wouldn’t resist almost made Ylja say no. As if sensing her instinct to run he turned to give her a curious look.

With one look back at the safety of the cell, Ylja stepped next to him, silent as they passed rows of cells full of bait for the arena. Every step they took made the din grow louder, chanting and groans joining the cacophony until the first rays of pure sunlight streamed onto the ground through a barred doorway.

Ylja didn’t need to look through to know she’d see bloodshed on the other side. Instead she focused on the passageway she now waited in.

Rows of weapons lined the walls: swords and maces, axes and flails and spears. On the opposite wall were shields and helmets of all shapes and sizes, some still with dried blood half worn off.

“Any preferences?” the overseer asked, sizing her up. Ylja looked over the swords again but they weren’t what she was looking for.

“I want the sword you took from me.” The overseer just laughed. “You asked my preference - if I am to die, I want to be holding my own sword.”

“Then you’ll fight with your fists alone. We do not have your sword. Pick another or die unarmed.”

“Where is it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know - you should ask whoever brought you here. Choose a new sword.”

Biting back an insult Ylja reluctantly pointed to a longsword that looked as though it hadn’t been used in years. It was in the style of swords from the northernmost countries of the continent, the closest thing to her own sword she could see. It had a good weight to it, the leather handle perfectly worn to a soft smooth sheen.

“No shield?” The overseer seemed confused. Ylja wasn’t surprised. The grey tunic she had been given to wear had no protective qualities to speak of other than the thickness of the wool already making her sweat. She glared and he held his hands up.

A roar erupted from the arena as the last fight ended and the overseer pulled her forwards. 

For the first time Ylja could see the crowd. The bodies merged into a writhing mass of colour, protected from the early afternoon sun by billowing fabric sails that threw shadows onto the arena floor itself.

As the bars in the doorway began to move to the side the overseer spoke. “There’s a stake in the sand twenty paces forward. Stop there until the fight is started. There are no… rules, but you gain more favour for fighting fairly.” 

“Why should I need favour? I’m only here to die.” 

“The arena has its own mind. Slaves have become heroes here.”

“I am not a slave.” Ylja adjusted her grip on the sword and stepped into the light.

___

The sun was blinding, the heat bearing down on her like a fist, not the slightest breeze to ease the inferno. Ylja forced the world into focus. Three people stood in the arena with her, separated by a vast expanse of sand.

Each one weighed up the others, trying to determine who would be the easiest to defeat, who would be the victor at the end of the bloodbath. Ylja immediately dismissed the man to her right - a slender man burdened by a shield too large for him. To her left was a woman much burlier than Ylja herself, with an expression that implied a preference for cruelty over skill.

The last, the man directly opposite, was the only opponent Ylja gave a second glance. He was dressed in the uniform of the professional gladiators, the fighters paid to perform the most spectacular battles. If the crowd were betting, and Ylja knew they were, they were betting on him.

Ylja redirected her focus to the stands opposite her. In the centre of the rows of civilians was a large platform, a private gallery for the wealthiest and most important people in the empire. Seated at the front was the Emperor himself; the silk of his robes such a bright gold he could have been the sun itself. At his sides were people Ylja didn’t recognise, with one exception.

The commander stood just beside the Emperor, dressed in clothes that, while fine, would be more suited to a war room than the largest theatre in the world. Even from the other side of the arena Ylja knew he was watching her.

Well, if he wanted her to die in a spectacle she’d give him the performance of a lifetime.

Drums began to beat, the deep sound echoing Ylja’s racing heart, growing louder as the crowd became restless, all eyes on a crimson flag high above the centre of the arena. Ylja raised her sword.

Time slowed as the flag began to fall. The woman to her left braced her feet ready to run. The boy opposite looked ready to run. The gladiator only waited. The Emperor took another sip from his goblet. The commander remained deadly still.

The flag hit the ground like a pool of fresh blood.

The cruel woman was already running to the boy but Ylja turned her attention to the gladiator, who was walking steadily towards her.

He wore simple leather armour, hair cropped close to his scalp, and had forgone a shield in favour of two short swords. Ylja risked a glance back towards the boy and instantly regretted it, his now limp body a mangled mess, blood staining the sand all around him.

He was never going to survive this. 

She met the gladiators blades with the familiar clash of steel against steel, twisting away to disengage and regain the distance between them. They began to circle, each analysing the other’s movements, searching for patterns and weak spots.

The gladiator lunged first, a smooth flurry of movement that had Ylja retreating. Pain blossomed on her arm as a sword bypassed her defence. She retaliated in turn, her sword just an extension of her arms, deadly and beautiful as it danced.

A flail whirled and the pair broke apart, the woman joining the fray with a snarl. The dance became a hurricane of iron, the cheers and shouts of the crowd merging into a steady roar that drowned out the blood rushing in Ylja’s ears.

Sand began to fill the air, stinging Ylja’s skin as she lunged into a roll to avoid a wicked ball of iron. Somewhere in the chaos she met the gladiators eyes and a sense of understanding flickered between them,

The woman’s attention on Ylja, the gladiator moved, fainting to the side as Ylja threw a handful of sand up towards the woman’s face.

She stepped back, blinded, and the gladiator struck, his swords driving through her back until they emerged below her collarbones. Blood sprayed across the ground as he pulled them back. The flail hit the sand before the woman did.

Breathing heavily, Ylja stood, keeping her eyes on the gladiator. Both were tired now, exhausted from the heat. Again they watched each other, that brief understanding turning to the adrenaline filled hope of survival. The crowd erupted in bloodthirsty cries as their swords once again met.

You are a knight. Remember your skill.

The reminder felt futile as Ylja swung again and again, quickly retreating into a panicked frenzy. Steel cut into her hand, blood making the sword grip slick, the sharp cold burn proving what she already knew.

He was better than her. There was no malice in the gladiator’s eyes as he forced her back, only detached determination. Again and again he struck hard and fast, and the next time his sword struck Ylja cried out in pain.

It was only a matter of time. A wrong step and Ylja was on her back, hot sand sticking to her bloody hand, mingling with the deeper wound on her arm, the gritty taste in her mouth and eyes.

You are a knight. Go down fighting.

With a raw scream she forced his next blow aside. He stumbled, thrown off balance, one sword lost to the sand. It was all she needed. Rolling to her feet she kicked out and her foot found its mark in his stomach.

The gladiator hit the ground with a grunt. Before he could recover his breath Ylja was above him, sword poised over his throat. His eyes met hers, a gaze of admiration and sorrow and that same determination. 

Ylja panted. The crowd were screaming, rich and poor alike turned to bloodthirsty savages as they craved the next spilling of blood. Horror dawned on her like the clearest sunrise.

You are a knight. Remember mercy.

Ylja lowered her sword. She wouldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it. The man in front of her was not her enemy. He was just a man. Forced to compete in the same brutal games as penance for some unknown crime.

The gladiator lunged. A flash of steel, a determined look, and Ylja plunged her sword through his heart.

Shock drowned the adrenaline coursing through her. Ylja let the gladiator fall, the sword still stuck in his unmoving chest. She felt sick. For a moment she thought she was going to throw up right there on the sand but before her stomach could betray her the arena grew quiet.

Squinting against the sun, Ylja looked up at the gallery in the stalls. The Emperor had stood, walking to the front so all could see him clearly as someone entered the arena.

Ylja tensed, preparing herself for a new opponent, but the man carried no weapons, only a wooden sword. He beckoned her forwards and reluctantly she complied, wiping her bloody hands on the grey tunic designed to humiliate her.

“The Emperor has gifted you your life, if you choose to take it,” the man said, holding the wooden sword out to her.

Ylja looked up again, past the Emperor, to the commander. She had never seen someone look at her with such hatred, such anger. It had been his command that sent her to the arena. If he thought she would go down without a fight he should have killed her while he had the chance.

“Make your choice, girl.” She looked back to the man offering her life in a wooden sword. The crowd erupted once again as she gripped the handle.

You are not a knight. You are a gladiator.

[libraryleopard]

gladiator ii coming out in november is a devastating blow to the enthusiastic about halloween costumes community

[l00k4tm4m45c415]

Lori Fetrick

[once-in-a-blue-moon-rising]

been feeling sorry for myself and binge watching Gladiators while rotting in my chair today, and my new toxic trait is thinking I could get past both the male and female gladiators in Gauntlet

[madmanwonder]

Ask

Original Male AU Slave AU: Gladiator AU

Slave Gladiator Issei, how do you feel about your relationship worh Lady Phenex?

"I love her and I understand the need of secrecy of our romance. But..." He looked over to the woman he love with the man who was unworthy of her hand with a frown and a subtle glare of anger and longing.

[minthara]

hans isn't even here today it's just the orchestra. i feel cheated