#carus

[mon-nid]

Wrrose • El mito de Sísifo

[9to5buzzcom]

On Nov 20, 284 AD, Roman soldier Diocletian was appointed the new Roman Emperor after Roman Emperor Carus's death.

[ultra-francesca-mercury]

august 2, 1921

Italian operatic tenor Enrico Caruso dies of peritonitis at age 48. Son Enrico Caruso Jr. attributes his father's downward health spiral to an onstage injury, having being struck by a falling pillar during a production of Samson and Delilah the year before.

[twofielder]

Coin of the Day #335 (4/4/2025)

Not late, shut up…

Roman Empire

BI Antoninianus - 23mm 4.13g

Carus 282-283 AD

Tripolis Mint

Obverse IMP C M AVR CARVS P F AVG

Bust of Carus right, radiate, draped, cuirassed

Reverse VIRTVS AVGG

Carus standing right, holding sceptre and receiving globe from Jupiter/Carinus standing left, holding sceptre, TR between, XXI below

RIC V 128

[aschenblumen]

Lunes 7 de mayo. Era herir innecesariamente a una mujer muy enamorada informarla de la escasa fiebre que inspiraba la existencia de su cuerpo. No sé.

—Pascal Quignard, Carus (cap. IV). Traducción de Ignacio Vidal-Folch.

[railagainstflinch]

There is stuff to say. Were you clear?

Were you kind? Wish you yapped.

Imagine Icarus satisfied. With the burnt wax smearing his father's eyes, only to remind him mid flight that one should not offer the rest of life to the people lost.

This, a detached firefly; a nod to the cave, the feathers we hid in the attic, behind the window pane which stretched the image of a field unending.

[aschenblumen]

Ella mostraba una paciencia y una reserva bastante seca, poco tierna, extremadamente pudorosa, que me parecen señales convincentes de amor. Hondura de un amor que, para tranquilizar a los demás, afecta indiferencia, y que en su frialdad designa un intenso dolor estupefacto que E. rehúsa manifestar.

—Pascal Quignard, Carus (cap. 1). Traducción de Ignacio Vidal-Folch.

[whumpurr]

Carus part 4

cw: pet whump, intimate/creepy whumper, piercing, stockholm syndrome, male whumpee, male whumper, age difference (both adults)

masterlist

--

Carus was usually such an obedient pet. He did everything his master told him to, and he delighted in it. He loved the feeling of his master’s desires corrupting him wholly. There had only been one other time that he had grievously misbehaved as he just had. 

It must have been months and months ago by now. The memory was foggy in Carus’ head as he recalled it. He was fearful, he was new. Mr. Christopher’s affections overwhelmed him, and he’d shoved him away and tried to run, only to trip on his weak legs and fall.

Mr. Christopher had caught him quickly. He was silent, and terrifying. The punishment didn’t come for a few days after that, until a cheap, dangerous piercing kit arrived on the doorstep of Mr. Christopher’s home. It was poorly made and Mr. Christopher didn’t even bother looking up instructions before piercing Carus’ earlobes himself. Carus cried and whimpered the whole time, but he did not scream.

Mr. Christopher threatened then that the next spot would be more painful.

“S-Sir-” Carus hiccupped. Mr. Christopher did not take him on, and moved to his dresser where he pulled out one of the drawers and returned with the dreaded piercing kit. Carus hoped that the drugs were still strong enough in his system to prevent whatever pain was about to come.

“Take your shirt off.” Mr. Christopher put the piercing kit on the nightstand and waiting, standing over Carus while the pet squirmed and wriggled out of his tanktop, trying his best to make sense of his useless limbs.

“You’re lucky that you haven’t fucked up more.” Mr. Christopher sighed, crouching down and man handling Carus to sit up against the side of the bed. “I expected your body to be full of metal by now. I would’ve had to start branding you.”

He takes the needle out of the kit and wipes it on his shirt. With little fanfare, Mr. Christopher shoved the needle through Carus’ left nipple. The drugs were no longer powerful enough to stop the pain from blossoming through his chest, Carus wanting nothing more than to scrabble and run away. 

Mr. Christopher hardly gave him a second before immediately piercing the other nipple. Thin lines of blood ran down Carus’ chest, to the waistband of his pants. He hiccupped and whimpered, the sharp pain tapering off as the seconds trudged by. His tears and blood were still hot on his skin.

“Oh, shh, shh,” Mr. Christopher gently stroked his hair, “I know it hurts, but you know why I have to do this, right? You could’ve really gotten hurt pulling a trick like that.” He kneeled down properly in front of Carus.

Carus flinched away, head thumping softly against the edge of the mattress behind it. His breath was fighting its way into his chest so he could pant and whimper like a scorned beast. His world was crumbling in his head. The facility he was purchased from made sure that his body was clean and unscarred. Mr. Christopher had even paid extra for such an untarnished body, and now it was getting ruined.

“Don’t be like that,” Mr. Christopher sighed. He opened his arms, “Come here.”

Carus couldn’t help himself but tremble and crawl into his owner’s lap. His strong arms embraced him. Carus’ chest felt warm. He didn’t feel safe, but he was loved. That mattered more, he realized. That love and care mattered more than anything as temporary as his body. He’d offer it up as many times as he had to in order to keep Mr. Christopher with him, cradling him, consuming him. He’d rather be left dead in a gutter somewhere than be peeled away from his one real love. The only thing that mattered.

“You’re such a sweet pet,” Mr. Christopher soothed, continuing to stroke Carus’ hair. The pain was far from his mind now. “Can you tell me why you did what you did?”

“Josephine-” Carus said without a second thought. “You- I thought you’d r… replaced me.” He had to pause and catch his breath while he spoke. He was still fighting off the effects of whatever was in his food that made it hard to breathe.

A dark look passed over his master’s face for a moment, before thankfully submerging itself once again beneath Mr. Christopher’s usual sternness. It was almost enough to pull Carus out of the slack, loving state he was in. Almost.

“Poor thing,” Mr. Christopher sighed, warm chest rising and falling against Carus’ face, “I would never, ever replace you.” A silence stretched out, punctuated by the gentle sound of their breathing between one another. 

--

Carus baffled Christopher sometimes. It was a wonder how he could spend so much on a pet only for it to be so stubborn, making assumptions and jumping to conclusions every which way. He had even paid extra to get a pet that was unmarred, but maybe that was the explanation for Carus’ lack of training. 

Christopher did not want to have to train his pet himself. He had a company to run, and while he had enough people under him that he delegated most of his work, he still had to be in his office for the majority of the day. He simply did not have time to break the pet himself.

It really was a shame. After all the time and effort he put into this pet, he would’ve expected him to know his place a bit better. Money was no object to Christopher, but he didn’t want to just up and buy a new pet. He stroked Carus’ hair while he thought of potential solutions, only one springing to mind. Christopher lived in a well-to-do part of town, and many people nearby owned pets as well (though he never let those other pets interact with his own, the other pets were surely too ill behaved and filthy.)...

Surely there must be a pet trainer nearby.