#when I say this is my roman empire

[theobjectofyourire]

it's been a year and I cannot stop thinking about this frame:

The hall had fallen silent, an absence of sound so severe, so terribly sharp and equal only to the blade that mere moments ago rested uncertainly on the King's belt, yet to be crimsoned by the righteous wrath of an anguished mother.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" The aching plea in her voice seemed to grow with every word, her voice trembling not with fear but with a fervency, a fury she had never before allowed herself to possess.

"And now you take my son's eye," she near wept, "and to even that, you feel entitled." It was with a grief she spoke. A mourning for herself, the girl she once was and the woman she might have become had the gods forged a kinder world. A mourning for her children, who were but pawns in a greater game, as she had been, and so fearfully neglected by their father.

A mourning for her son.

Her gentle boy.

Her dearest Aemond, who had clutched her hand and worried at the blood staining the wrists of her dress even as his skin was being threaded back together. As he was told, in no uncertain terms, that his eye was forever lost, and instead of finding comfort in his sire as any boy ought to, he was met with cold commands, alone.

*******

When the princess had stepped back, a slow stream of scarlet flowing from her arm, and the blade frightfully abandoned on the stone, all eyes remained steadfast on the Queen, surrounded and yet entirely isolated. All awaited the word of Viserys, who stood in outraged shock behind her, but not a sound came. 'Twas silence that ruled the night, and mayhaps would have known a longer reign if not for the soft-spoken words of her son, still painted in his own blood.

"Do not mourn me mother." He stepped forward without a measure of hesitancy, and all the great lords and ladies could not hope to remove their gaze from the boy. His voice, despite all, was steadier than any who had come before. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

Most had looked on with some degree of astonishment, others with the slight flicker of fear, an apprehension of what was undoubtedly to follow in the years to come. Most surprising, mayhaps, was the high regard of an uncle and grandsire. Never had Daemon and Otto so shared, unbeknownst to each other, a look of such pride. Their reasons differed, to be sure, though both could not but admire the boy who had proved himself the true blood of the dragon.

'Twas only one person of note in that hall of many faces who dared not look upon the countenance of the young prince. 'Twas only one who kept his eyes planted firmly at his feet, his head bowed low as though he were not but a servant who feared he was undeserving of such a sight.

In his bones, he knew the fear to be well founded.

Viserys would not look at his son. He could not look at his son, who spoke with a courage and certainty that reminded him so dearly of his brother. He had taken, in no small measure, after his uncle, and it wounded him to see so much of the Rogue Prince, a darkened sort of valiancy in the remaining eye of his child.

It was his fault.

He knew. In his heart of hearts, he knew he had no one but himself to blame. What might the smallest show of care prevented, had he but taken the time to bestow it? How many years had he so desperately prayed for sons, only to treat them with a distanced interest, at best, when the Gods finally saw fit to answer?

At the very least, mightn't he have asked, nay, insisted upon a formal apology from his admittedly beloved grandson, on behalf of his own flesh and blood? For if the injuries had been reversed, had it been Lucerys half-blinded by Aemond...he could not fathom the thought. The truth was far too vile to admit, even unto himself.

"This proceeding is at an end." His voice was firm, unyielding, leaving no room for argument. As he turned, unsteadily limping back to his chambers, he did not spare a glance to his injured son. He could not bare the guilt. He could not shoulder the truth.

The words were those of a King. The actions? Those were of a father, failing, forever unworthy of the title.

*******

[confettay]

rewatching G1 again and I’m obsessed with this scene where they just show multiple angles of starscream sulking for like 20 seconds with absolutely no dialogue from him at all

[dustykneed]

(tsfs feels anyone? fanart below.)

You've been in his head.

But he says, never faltering, the words,

"I choose the danger."

It is in that moment that you understand:

He could never, would never,

Has never hated you.

Now you realize:

this is what humans refer to as love.

[beanghostprincess]

There was NO need to turn this short thing that is barely a fucking page in the manga into a whole scene with Sanji staring at Usopp from a distance with the sunset behind them and going "What is that idiot doing?" but in the softest of voices instead and turning around to smoke while he keeps listening to him. Like. No need to do it. Other than they're in love. Thank you.

[coffinwoodx]

“Just make sure you don't lose him. You'll not find another like him...” why don’t you just kill me instead, huh? kill me. stab me in the chest. shoot me in the head. drive a stake through my heart, why dontcha? cremate me, while you’re at it. i’d rather DIE.

[angelofpearls]

my roman empire is that if Judas waited three days he would’ve been forgiven.

[sakamoto-gays]

Can't stop thinking about Toramaru using gen Z internet slang. I just know she's cronically online and the way she talks makes Mafuyu go crazy.

[sinclarify]

its always 'ily' and never 'iwytltm. yepambm. twnc. yatmipitwtm. aicrstltiilwyb, btnoe, noe, tiwgthf. awglftfowtrm.'

[lucreziaces]

love the implication that there is only one "correct" way to love lucrezia which is to serve her, and anything less just isn't good enough. "you are marrying lucrezia borgia. your sole allegiance is to her now" is something you would say to the woman, not the man in these times. the woman is thought to exist to serve the man, not the other way around--again during these times!! also, this is just reiterating what he said in the episode before to lucrezia when he told her, "he will love you, he will serve you [....]". cesare believes this to be true because it's what he would do because he knows his sister's heart well enough to understand that the only way to hold it in your hand is if you give up any sense of control and just surrender yourself to her as if she is a religion, as if she is god herself. and in an attempt to do the right thing here cesare is basically handing the advice alfonso needs to have any chance at a successful marriage with his sister to him on a silver platter. and yet it seems to fall on deaf ears because alfonso fails to even try and fight for lucrezia's son's place at court. "will your "more" be enough?" and the answer, ladies and gentlemen, is no. it will not. turns out lucrezia is right to say "only a borgia, it seems, can truly love a borgia" because no one else even bothers to take the time to understand her like cesare does. 🙃🙃

[swampthingking]

the thought of cracking the spine of a book makes kevin nauseous. he like opens it just enough to see the words and holds the book at such uncomfortable angles to read— anything to keep the book pristine and intact. he does not let people borrow his books because he is a control freak (as a term of endearment) and does not trust them to take care of them the way he does.

and andrew is the complete opposite, cracking the spine as soon as he opens it. he annotates in pen. he dog ears the pages because who the fuck has time to find a bookmark. he throws books out of anger. he throws them at aaron for fun. he lets them get smashed and torn in his bag. he always keeps them, he just prefers them to look like they’ve been read.

[harmoniouseclipse]

Kaejean..... KAEJEAN!

[skitskatdacat63]

I also think about the Roman Empire every day 🤭

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 16, 2021 12:30 p.m. aeri craft market

[isthataraccoon]

bree and sel repeatedly risking their lives and sacrificing themselves to save the other is quite literally the PEAK of romanticism and also the sweetest thing I’ve ever read

[boimgfrog]

genuinely devastating that sp many of my beloved indie music artists are from overseas with low funds and will probably never tour in the USA...Lil simz...viji....teenage joans.....albatraoz... I am thinking of you always </3

[direwombat]

still trying to piece together the late-roman empire jakesyb au and fl;asdfj it really is just putting my own personal hc for jacob's bisexuality on blast wherein, in this au, he is mostly interested in men (ie, his fellow soldiers/his boytoy staci) but then there's also something inexplicably alluring to him about syb's strong, lithe, barbarian warrior's body