#ancient roman sexuality

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Me talking about sexuality in ancient Rome with normal people: "Both language and gender roles evolve over time, so it may be more useful to discuss normative vs. non-normative sexuality rather than projecting modern labels onto..." [etc]

Me talking about sexuality in ancient Rome with homophobes: Augustus was a twink, Antony was bisexual, Scipio Africanus was gender nonconforming and there's nothing you can do about it

[jeannereames]

A book that should be of interest to quite a few of you. It's not even impossibly expensive in paperback.

[classicschronicles]

Hi lovelies,

Guys. This blog. Is one years old today! Woah. Icl I’m really bad at sticking to things so the fact that we managed to get a post every week for a year is pretty cool, so thank you all :)

As it’s pride month (happy pride!!) I’ve been seeing a lot of things on Twitter celebrating queer figures from classical antiquity, and whilst there were definitely queer figures to be celebrated, I think there is a lot of misconceptions about sexuality in the ancient world (especially Greece and Rome). So today I thought it would be cool to talk about male and female sexuality in the Ancient Greece and Rome. Quick trigger warning, there are mentions of pro5tituti0n, r4pe, and sl4v3ry, so read at your own risk and please stay safe <3

Okay so just some quick things to understand. The term ‘homosexual’ wasn’t coined until the the late 19th century, and the word bisexual until 1892. In regards to Ancient Greece, it was a largely homosocial, if not ‘homosexual’.

So starting off with Ancient Greece. Potential sexual partners for men included other free men (in the realms of pederastic relationships), wives, pro5titut3s, and both male and female slaves. Pederastic relationships were the main form of homosexual relationships and it was basically a socially acceptable, educative and erotic relationship between an adult male (mid-20s to 30s) and a younger male (mid-to-late teens to early-twenties). The older lover was called the erastes (lover) and the younger was called the eromenos (beloved). The erastes had to pursue the eromenos (usually at the gym) and it was his role to provide education for the younger in the areas of politics, philosophy, rhetoric, and social customs (basically how to be a good citizen). In return, the eromenos would provide the erastes with sexual pleasure, but key point it wasn’t penetrative pleasure because (oh no) that would be too gay. Stupid I know, but basically penetrative s3x would, to them, make one of them ‘feminine’ and in a highly highly misogynistic society that just wasn’t the done thing. But there is evidence to suggest that quite a few men ignored this social convention. For example, in Aristophanes Frogs, they mention a politicians called Cliesthenes who has broken this tradition and in Plato’s Symposium, Pausanias and Agathon. Anyways! The erastes was chosen for his beauty, so the more beautiful you were the better erastes, and therefore education, you would receive. It is really important to note that for the erastes, this wasn’t allowed to be his primary sexual relationship, in that it was expected of him to be married and that his primary relationship was for the purpose of childbirth. Another partner for men in Ancient Greece was was pro5titut3s, and there were two levels of this. The first was the pornoi, who were ‘street workers’ and were slaves (male or female) owned by br0th3l owners. The second levels was the hetairai who were highly educated female courtesans, a mix of free women and slaves, and were primarily seen at drinking parties.

There is little that is know about the sexual partners of women in Ancient Greece but its largely agreed that women could only have male/female relations with their husbands, but as long as it didn’t get in the way of having children, they could also engage in relations with other women. Sappho’s works suggest that this was often the case before marriage.

In Ancient Rome, the potential sexual partners for men included their wives, infames (male or female), slaves (male or female) and extra marital affairs. So starting off with infames, this was a person- that because of their profession) had no legal status in Rome (so actors, gladiators etc…). Because of the focus on the active and passive members of the relationships, the free man always had to be the ‘active’ and the infames the ‘passive’. Generally when it came to homosexuality, romans did not have pederasty and if a roman man wanted to have sex with another man they could as long as they weren’t the passive one, because if a freeman was the passive one it would damage his virtus. Again, like in Ancient Greece, this wasn’t a mans primary relationship and he is still expected to have a wife for the purpose of childbirth. Because of this, relations with male slaves became popular and the term ‘puer delicatus’ (delicate boy) was often applied to slave boys brought specifically for this purpose. Similarly to Ancient Greece, it was encouraged for men to have relations with pro5titut3s and exploit household slaves. Adultery was, however, outlawed but the Lex Julia. BUT, this was hugely hugely unpopular and historian Gaius Suetonius described the reaction as ‘open revolt’. This suggests that extramarital affairs were accepted and popular. Ovid literally has a whole book about pursuing married women and succeeding, which tells you all that it needs to.

In regards to women in Ancient rome, there again isn’t a lot that is known. But Ars Amortia book 3 suggests that women did have extramarital affairs and some form of sexual liberty.

In all, heteronormativity wasn’t as enforced in the ancient world because, in all honesty, they cared more about who took on the ‘feminine’ role, and so their sexual liberty didn’t come from acceptance, but straight up misogyny. Also I read this really fascinating thing that basically said that in todays world where we enforce heteronormativity, we can’t assume that everyone who says they’re straight, is in fact straight. In the same way, to the ancient world where (and forgive my use of modern terminology) homosexuality was expected, you can’t assume that everyone who said they were ‘homosexual’ or ‘bisexual’ actually was. Sexuality has, and always will be, flexible and diverse and deeply fascinating and so you can’t enforce labels on the ancient, or indeed modern, world. It’s fluid and whatever you want it to be, but either way, I hope you all found this interesting!

Thanks for sticking with my awful ramblings for the last year, I love you all loads, and I hope you all have a lovely rest of your weekend <33

~Z

[acertainidontknowwhat]

Ovid’s women reflect a society that follows a code of conduct that exists in parallel and in tension with Augustan legislation. There is a significant gap between the law’s desire to control female sexuality and the social realities of women who refused to be labelled as either matrons or prostitutes. Ovid’s Ars revels in this gap.

Law and Love in Ovid: Courting Justice in the Age of Augustus, Ioannis Ziogas

[correctopinionhaver]

[dwellordream]

- David Wheeler-Reed, “NEW TESTAMENT: Conflicting Ideologies of the Family”

[jamesisasimp]

Well if the good omens bartylus brainrot can't be stopped then it must be encouraged

Can you share any interaction or dialogue you can't stop thinking about?

(also, good whatever-time-it-is-in-your-timezone!)

Helloooo Ary, my dear

I hope you know what floodgates you just opened. I'm going to try to make this sound even a little bit concise and not just like a lengthy ramble, but no promises

It's going to be a mix of me gushing over Good Omens and how perfectly bartylus translates to it, so strap in ♡

First of all, Crowley. Barty. Need I say more?

Fanart credit: twosidedstarr on Instagram and Pinterest

Look at them! They're two of the same, swagalicious, out of pocket, impulsive idiots, and, I'm sorry, but Barty as the snake in the Garden of Eden?

In God's universe, Bartemius, now affectionately referred to as Barty, along with the rest of his human name, Crouch Jr. (not to be confused with Crouch Sr., who was also him, just a couple hundred years ago to be realistic), has been dealt a losing, rather shit hand. Course he is a demon, that's sort with the territory, but he was an angel once too. Doesn't really get what all the fuss was about, it was awful up there, all the white and the glass, gave him a headache.

He was never cut out for Heaven, and Hell is just depressing, and in either he's a miserable excuse for a being, either occult or ethereal, and that is why Barty, formerly Bartemius, Crouch Jr., formerly Sr., is so in love with Earth.

And then there's Aziraphale and Regulus, which is, I think, more of a reach but definitely still completely valid

Fanart credit: twosidedstarr on Instagram and Pinterest

It's important to note that Azzie here is softboi core to the bone, and Regulus is absolutely not. While I think they have a lot of the same fundamentals ideologies, like fierce loyalty, they are very different. Aziraphale wants to believe in the good will of angels only to, slowly, over time, realise how corrupt it is, and I think this parallels amazingly with Regulus's experience with Death Eaters and the Dark Side - BUT Regulus is NOT a softboi, I will not reduce him to this

Consider this analogy for further explanation

Aziraphale and Crowley:

Barty and Regulus:

Regulus can't just abandon Armageddon all together. Not because he particularly fancies being at war, but because of the opposite. He's not the coward Barty seems to think he is - he's not the one trying to run away from this. He's the one trying to fucking stop it from happening entirely, if not for his own sake then for all those innocent humans that aren't ready to be judged yet. That never asked for any of this. That are caught in the crossfire just so good and evil, whatever the fuck those even mean anymore, can figure out who's best.

Regulus has to try. If Sirius taught him anything it's that hope is worth the plunge, no matter what's waiting on the other side.

NOW why am I currently obsessed with this, may you ask? Does it have to do with David Tennant's David Tennant-ness? Yes, a lot actually. Because through him and his portrayal of Crowley, I was able to understand a version of Barty that I could see in Crowley, because I actually relate to him. Probably more than one should relate to a demon but that's the whole point of the show!

The glory and freedom, allure of humanity

It's the story of a demon and an angel that have fallen in love with humanity (and each other) and are willing to give everything up to stay together. Because, if they lose humanity, they lose the bridge over which they can be together, and when the end of the world threatens it's destruction what do they do?

Stop the end of the world, obviously

They go against everything they've been taught, everything they've been told is right and wrong and devine and instead of doing what they should they do what they want to do, which I just think is so beautiful. And opens up a lot for Regulus's character. I mean, Barty's a fallen angel soaked in corruption, he's not blind to it and escapes it in humanity, fueled by spite, whereas Regulus wants to believe he's doing the right thing, that's he's on the right side, and has only really a matter of days to understand that he's not - that there is no right side, only a wrong one. And, instead of fighting for the greater good, do you know what he fights for?

Barty. A demon. A demon that was never evil and never cruel to him, a good person deep deep down

It just suits them SO WELL in my mind

But that's not enough for Barty, of course it's not. To him, he's still just a stubborn coward that still believes in God's Plan. To Barty, he's given up on them, and he can't tell him that he'd never do that, not in another six thousand years, not in eternity if they ever even make it there.

I've written out their version of the bandstand breakup, and I WANT more than ANYTHING to write Barty saying the words "you're so clever, how can somebody as clever as you be so stupid" right to Regulus's face (for those of you that haven't seen the show, don't worry, he absolutely deserves it in the moment). I want to write Barty's collapse, his last few hours on Earth, saying goodbye to the life he loves and his best friend, his partner, his Angel, who he'll never get to be with again. His desperation to find an out, to keep his little Regulus shaped slice of heaven that he knows he doesn't deserve

I want to see Barty when he believes Regulus has gone back to heaven, just hours before the end of the world, and that he never even got to say goodbye

Skip to 2:20

Also, come on, Barty driving through hellfire while blasting queen just to make sure he gets to the end of the world in time to stop it from, well... ending

Then of course there's the holy water scene, Regulus breaking the rules to get Barty a thermos of it so he doesn't end up risking own life to get it in less legal ways. Giving him LITERALLY the means of his own destruction, because Regulus is the only one how can

Because, you see, the trouble with loving someone is that, in doing so, you give them a step my step guide on how to destroy you. Not with holy water or hell fire, but deep deep within. You don't even realize it, Barty certainly didn't, at least not until right now.

I also really want to explore their dynamic! Barty shares Crowley's impulsivity and energy, and he's a bit of a gambler in my mind, getting more of a thrill out of just winning for once than the actual game

"It's not like you need human money," Regulus reminds him.

"Nah," he just shrugs, shoving his hands into his British pound lined pockets. "I just enjoy the game, really. It's fun, you should try it sometime."

"Definitely not."

"And the atmosphere. Can't get that kind of an atmosphere anywhere else."

"Think a nightclub might be similar? Perhaps a pub?"

"Eh. Too much lust, not enough greed, and I get enough of that downstairs," Barty corrects and gets out his keys. "Dinner?"

Regulus, on the other hand, is more reserved and to the point. I did come up with this particular distinction between them that, if someone were talking to them and they didn't really want to talk, Regulus would stay and listen though making it clear he wasn't interested, and Barty would just say "yeah, sorry, don't really care" and be on his merry way. I also think Regulus is a bit of a foodie, in that he loves the different types of human meals and flavors and how each reflect a different culture and background. It's just the little things for Regulus, food and books. Books that allow him to travel to different worlds in which God doesn't exist and he can be anything he wants to be, not just an angel bound to the Greater Good

Also Barty is an ABSOLUTE simp

Regulus, much the same and far less likely to admit it, is in love with the fascinating world of humans too. Most particularly the food. Technically they don't need to eat, it's not a requirement, Barty only ever does it when he feels it's neccessary for appearances or when Regulus insists that he just can't go on living without at least trying a bite. Regulus, however, is a connoisseur. When he acquired his townhome in central London back in 1979, his main concern was the size and capabilities of the kitchen. For comparison, Barty doesn't think he's ever once touched the kitchen in his flat, aside from the one time Regulus asked him to store a cake in his refrigerator. He's thinking of having it refinished into another plant room.

His all time favorite is French food, after a particular excursion during the French Revolution filled with temptation, miracles, crepes, and a near mountain of baguettes. He learned quiche, creampuffs, and croque in Paris, fell in love with garlic in Italy. Spain got him hooked on chocolate and olives, and the shrimp came about from one confusing trip to Japan that Barty isn't fully certain actually happened. He also likes waffles, but that's far too American for him to admit.

So Barty takes them to Le Gavroche, which he is aware is secretly Regulus's favorite, not because the food is good, but because the restaurant itself is so flashy and sought after it takes an angelic miracle to secure them a table. He, as a higher, or technically lower being, is not limited by human languages, well versed and able to communicate in any one he chooses, but there is an unspoken agreement in which he allows Regulus to translate the menu into English for him and does not remind him that he, too, knows French.

So, in conclusion, it's not really a concrete thing it's just the entirety of them. The story of Good Omens is so good and through the lense of Barty and Regulus, who are both very different and very similar to Crowley and Aziraphale, would be just *chefs kiss*. They're two idiots choosing each other over a war and how can you not fall on your knees as to how tooth achingly sweet it is?? "Aww, Reg. You were willing to kill the antichrist for me? Little ol' me?" "Shut up."

Ary, this was very long and hardly made any sense, so I apologize, but I had the time of my life writing all of this down for you. Did I actually answer your question? I have no idea! But I definitely did something, so... tada!!

Brainrot successfully encouraged, this going to be all I can think about for the rest of the day...

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Hi op! Do you think that the rumor of Claudius being the only "straight" (ik the term didn't exist at that time but I don't know how to describe it beside maybe heterosexual behaviour (?)) among the first 15 Roman emperors is true?

I don't know much about anybody later than Tiberius, I'm afraid. So I can't really say. Neither of my Tiberius biographies mentioned any same-sex relationships, and the passage in Suetonius alleging otherwise is almost certainly slander, so...maybe he'd also count?

That said...it's pretty much impossible to label any ancient Roman dude as straight or heterosexual, because normative male sexuality was about being the penetrator, and only with people of the appropriate social rank (which could include boys or male slaves sometimes). You had to be Manly™️in the Right Way, that mattered more than who you were attracted to. Claudius could actually make a really interesting case study, in that he was a bookworm with a visible disability, which pretty much disqualified him from being "manly" (in his family's eyes) from the start, and his conquest of Britain was in part meant to dispel the public perception of him as weak.

[komishares]

Museum classifies Roman emperor as trans – but modern labels oversimplify ancient gender identities

[sybaritick]

top who claims this isn't gay bc he's the dominant partner (by like, ancient roman conceptualization of male sexuality) + bottom who claims this isn't gay because he's doing this to attract fujoshi women who love effeminate submissive men

[theoihalioistuff]

ARES IS NOT THE PROTECTOR OF WOMEN IN GREEK MYTHOLOGY.

He is never presented as such in any source, there is no evidence such a role was ever assigned to him in any account, and as far as I'm aware this popular yet unattested assertion is born from the echo-chambers of tumblr. In fact quite the opposite could be argued. TW for sexual assault.

This baffling claim seems to originate from a sort of shallow examination of the way Ares "behaves in myth", and the following arguments are the most frequently presented:

1. Ares protects his daughter Alkippe from assault, and is therefore morally opposed to rape. (Apollodorus 3.180, Pausanias 1.21.4, Suidas "Areios pagos", attributed to Hellanikos)

Curiously this argument is never applied to, among other examples: Apollo for defending his mother Leto from Tytios, Herakles for defending Hera from Porphyrion (or his wife Deianeira from Nessos), or Zeus for defending his sister Demeter from Iasion (in the versions where he attacks her), etc. The multiple accounts of rape of the previously mentioned figures did not conflict with these stories in greek thought: they're defending family members or women otherwise close to them. This sort of mentality is not uncommon even in contemporary times, e.g. a warrior may have no ethical problem killing men, but would not want his own family or loved ones to be killed. The same goes here for sexual assault.

2. There are no surviving accounts of Ares sexually assaulting anybody.

The idea that the ancient greeks pictured that, among all the gods, Ares was the only one who shied away from committing rape is baseless and borders on ridiculous. In this case absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

The majority of surviving records regarding Ares' unions are presented in a genealogical manner, and do not go into details on their nature. This is the case for most works of mythography, where specifics of sexual encounters are to be found elsewhere. However, common motifs present in other accounts of rape also appear in stories concerning Ares' relationships, e.g. tropes like shape-shifting/the use of disguises, the victim being a huntress, secrecy, and the disposal of the concieved child, are to be found in the stories of Phylonome and Astyoche respectively:

Φυλονόμη Νυκτίμου καὶ Ἀρκαδίας θυγάτηρ ἐκυνήγει σὺν τῇ Ἀρτέμιδι: Ἄρης δ᾽ ἐν σχήματι ποιμένος ἔγκυον ἐποίησεν. ἡ δὲ τεκοῦσα διδύμους παῖδας καὶ φοβουμένη τὸν πατέρα ἔρριψεν εἰς τὸν Ἐρύμανθο

"Phylonome, the daughter of Nyktimos and Arkadia, was wont to hunt with Artemis; but Ares, in the guise of a shepherd, got her with child. She gave birth to twin children and, fearing her father, cast them into the [River] Erymanthos." (Pseudo-Plutarch, Greek and Roman Parallel Stories, 36)

οἳ δ᾽ Ἀσπληδόνα ναῖον ἰδ᾽ Ὀρχομενὸν Μινύειον, τῶν ἦρχ᾽ Ἀσκάλαφος καὶ Ἰάλμενος υἷες Ἄρηος οὓς τέκεν Ἀστυόχη δόμῳ Ἄκτορος Ἀζεΐδαο, παρθένος αἰδοίη ὑπερώϊον εἰσαναβᾶσα Ἄρηϊ κρατερῷ: ὃ δέ οἱ παρελέξατο λάθρῃ: τοῖς δὲ τριήκοντα γλαφυραὶ νέες ἐστιχόωντο.

"And they that dwelt in Aspledon and Orchomenus of the Minyae were led by Ascalaphus and Ialmenus, sons of Ares, whom, in the palace of Actor, son of Azeus, Astyoche, the honoured maiden, conceived of mighty Ares, when she had entered into her upper chamber; for he lay with her in secret" (Homer, Iliad 2. 512 ff)

In neither of these cases is a verb explicitly denoting rape used, though it is heavily implied by the context. The focus of the action is on the conception of sons, the nature of the interaction is secondary.

Other examples are found among the daughters of the river Asopos, who where (and here there's no confusion) ravished and kidnapped by different gods to different parts of the greek world, where they found local lines through children borne to their abductors and serve as eponyms. Surviving fragments from Corinna of Tanagra tell us:

"Asopos went to his haunts . . from you halls . . into woe . . Of these [nine] daughters Zeus, giver of good things, took his [Asopos'] child Aigina . . from her father's [house] . . while Korkyra and Salamis and lovely Euboia were stolen by father Poseidon, and Leto's son is in possession of Sinope and Thespia . . [and Tanagra was seized by Hermes] . . But to Asopos no one was able to make the matter clear, until . . [the seer Akraiphen reveals to him] 'And of your daughters father Zeus, king of all, has three; and Poseidon, ruler of the sea, married three; and Phoibos [Apollon] is master of the beds of two of them, and of one Hermes, good son of Maia. For so did the pair Eros and the Kypris persuade them, that they should go in secret to your house and take your nine daughters." (heavily fragmented papyrus. Corinna fr. 654)

"For your [Tanagra's] sake Hermes boxed against Ares." (Corinna fr. 666)

It seems that, similar to the myths of Beroe or Marpessa, the abducted maiden is fought over by two competing "suitors", and though we can infer that the outcome of the story is that Hermes gets to keep Tanagra, apparently by beating Ares in a boxing match, we don't actually know what happened or how it happened. In any case, Ares does mate with another daughter of Asopos, Harpina, who bears him Oinomaos according to some versions (Paus. 5.22.6; Stephanus Byzantium. Ethnica. A125.3; Diodorus Siculus 4. 73. 1). There is little reason to suppose that this encounter wasn't pictured as an abduction like the rest of her sisters.

The blatant statement that each of his affairs was envisioned as consensual is simply not true.

3. He was worshipped under the epithet Gynaikothoinas "feasted by women"

This was a local cult that existed in Tegea, the following reason is given:

"There is also an image of Ares in the marketplace of Tegea. Carved in relief on a slab it is called Gynaecothoenas. At the time of the Laconian war, when Charillus king of Lacedaemon made the first invasion, the women armed themselves and lay in ambush under the hill they call today Phylactris. When the armies met and the men on either side were performing many remarkable exploits, the women, they say, came on the scene and put the Lacedaemonians to flight. Marpessa, surnamed Choera, surpassed, they say, the other women in daring, while Charillus himself was one of the Spartan prisoners. The story goes on to say that he was set free without ransom, swore to the Tegeans that the Lacedaemonians would never again attack Tegea, and then broke his oath; that the women offered to Ares a sacrifice of victory on their own account without the men, and gave to the men no share in the meat of the victim. For this reason Ares got his surname." (Paus. 8.48.4-5)

As emphasised by Georgoudi in To Act, Not Submit: Women’s Attitudes in Situations of War in Ancient Greece (part of the highly recommendable collection of essays Women and War in Antiquity), "it is not necessary to see the operation of an invitation in the bestowal of the epithet Γυναικοθοίνας on Ares". The epithet is ambiguous, and can be translated both as "Host of the banquet of women" or "[He who is] invited to the banquet of women". In any case no act of divine intervention occurs, and the main reason for the women's act of devotion lies principally in recognising their decisive role in the routing of the Lakedaimonians. It's they who preside/participate in the feast of war, the men are excluded.

Also this a local epithet that isn't found anywhere else in Greece. As such it would be worth reminding that not every Ares is Gynaikothoinas, in the same way not every Zeus is Aithiopian, not every Demeter Erinys, and not every Artemis of Ephesos.

4. He was the patron god of the Amazons

He was considered progenitor of the Amazons because of their proverbial warlike nature and love of battle, the same reason he was associated with other "barbaric" tribes, like the Thracians or the Scythians. In this capacity he was also appointed as a suitable father/ancestor for other violent and savage characters who generally function as antagonists (e.g. Kyknos, Diomedes of Thrace, Tereos of Thrace, Oinomaos, Agrios and Oreios, Phlegyas, Lykos etc.). Also he was by no means the only god connected with the Amazons (they were in fact especially linked to Artemis, see Religious Cults Associated With the Amazons by Florence Mary Bennett, if only for the bibliography).

Similarly, Poseidon was considered patron and ancestor of the Phaiakians mainly because of their mastery over the art of seafaring (and was curiously also credited in genealogies as father to monsters and other disreputable figures).

On another note I have found no sources that claim he taught his amazon daughters how to fight, as I've seen often mentioned (though I admit I'd love to be proven wrong on that point).

5. Finally, the last reason Ares could never be portrayed as a protector of women is because of his divine assignation itself

The uncountable references to his love of bloodshed and man-slaying don't just stop short of the battlefield, but continue on to the conclusion and intended purpose of most waged wars in antiquity: the sacking of the city. The title Sacker of Cities as an epithet of Ares (though it is by no means exclusive to him) is encountered numerous times and in different variations (eg. τειχεσιπλήτης or πτολίπορθος), and the meaning behind the epithet is plain. Though it is hard to summarise without being reductionist, the sacking of a city entails the plundering of all its goods, the slaughtering of its men, and the sistematic raping and enslavement of the surviving women (to name only a small few of the literary references see The Iliad, The Trojan Women or The Women of Trachis). There is little need to emphasise that war as concieved of in ancient greece, especifically the brutal aspects of war Ares is most often associated with, directly entailed sexual violence against women as one of it's main concerns. The multiple references to Ares being an unloved or disliked deity are because of this, because war is horrifying (not because his daddy is a big old meany who hates him for no reason, Zeus makes very clear the motive for his contempt in the Iliad (5. 889-891): "Do not sit beside me and whine, you double-faced liar. To me you are most hateful of all gods who hold Olympos. Forever quarreling is dear to your heart, wars and battles.")

Ares was only the protector of women inasmuch as he could be averted or repelled (e.g. surviving apotropaic chants):

"There is no clash of brazen shields but our fight is with the war god, a war god ringed with the cries of men, a savage god who burns us; grant that he turn in racing course backward out of our country’s bounds, to the great palace of Amphitrite or where the waves of the thracian sea deny the stranger safe anchorage. Whatsoever escapes the night at last the light of day revisits; so smite him, Father Zeus, beneath your thunderbolt, for you are the lord of the lightning, the lightning that carries fire." (Shophocles, Oedipus Tyrannos, 190-202)

"And let no murderous havoc come upon the realm to ravage it, by arming Ares—foe to the dance and lute, parent of tears—and the shout of civil strife." (Aeschylus, Suppliant Women 678)

~~~~~

All that being said, this is a post about Ares as conceptualized and attested in ancient sources, made specifically in response to condescending statements about how "uhmmm, actually, in greek mythology Ares was a super-feminist himbo who was worshipped as the protector of women and was hated by his family for no reason, you idiot". It is factually incorrect. HOWEVER, far be it from me to tell anyone how they have to interact with this deity. Be it your retellings, your headcannons or your own personal religious attachments and beliefs towards Ares, those are your own provinces and prerogatives, and not what was being discussed here at all (I personally love art where Ares and Aphrodite goof around, or retellings where he plays with his daughters, or headcannons that showcase his more noble sides, etc.)

~~~~~

I've seen that other people on tumblr have made similar posts, the ones I've seen were by @deathlessathanasia and @en-theos . I have no idea how to link their posts, but they're really good so go check them out on their pages!

[julietsbody]

CALIGULA — luke castellan + reader : luke castellan, in all his reign, has a love for sexual pleasure, more importantly with you. 

tags: mdni, inspired by ancient roman stories, luke is a pervert, dark!luke, p in v sex, jealousy, possessiveness, assistant!reader, captain!luke, luke is an awful man in this sawry

a/n: ive been binge watching the roman empire show

LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR. 

41 AD. 

luke castellan can’t deny how harsh of a captain he was on the princess andromeda. 

he wanted to be the best captain on the sea, wanted to get his revenge on camp halfblood and the gods, wanted to live the lavish life he had always dreamed of. he thought of a life where he would drink red wine out of chalices, be fed grapes from the hands of beautiful women, or men, he wanted to be treated like a god— because in his mind, he would be the best god to ever exist. 

you started out as his assistant, writing papers for him on a simple typewriter that he gave to you, a fucking typewriter. you tried to remind him it was no longer the 1950s, he scoffed like you were stupid. “you know people used them in the 1800s, right?” 

your lips press together, looking at him, then the typewriter, then back to him. you offer a small smile, and he doesn’t return it, he never does, and he never will. luke took things very seriously, maybe too seriously, so he never let himself smile, let alone laugh, a bitter scoff was all you’d get from him at most. 

you were pliant, luke noticed, and he liked that. you did everything he asked, every time he asked. he’d call your name, and hear your heels clicking against the wooden floorboards no less than a second later. speaking of heels, luke was strict about dress codes, too. 

to call him a pervert.. well, you wouldn’t be far off. 

he wanted you to wear things like tight pencil skirts, short or long, thin tights, maybe even solely stockings, stiletto heels that he’d purchased for you the second he saw you show up in mary janes, and a simple shirt or blouse. he liked glasses, too, thin, square framed ones, like bayonetta’s. 

you had to wear dark red lipstick, regardless. 

you hated your boss, more than anything, the way he’d walk into a room and easily command it, the way his body language reeked of cockiness, the way that despite all evilness, he still thought he was doing something for the greater good. 

what you hated the most, is how much you fantasized about him. 

that’s why you always ran to him so quick when he called out for you, why you endured the loud clacking of the typewriter keys even when you had to do a paper at night and he opened your door to yell at you to ‘shut the fuck up or get thrown off the damn boat.’ 

he was never a good man, nor a good boss, but he looked good. 

you liked when he was angry, when he yelled at you, when he held your jaw so tight you were sure he’d shatter it and spit degrading words at you like you were vile. it should be such a shame that you enjoy it, but you don’t pity yourself one bit. he was meaner with you, he always cracked awful jokes with the rest of the crew, drank beers with them, lit their cigarettes, but you, you were the person he took all his anger out on. 

well, at first it was anger. 

then he began to ever so slowly show his desires for sexual connections. he was able to hold it in at first, act like he wasn’t missing having sex, like he wasn’t missing the simple touch of a woman or man. masturbating wasn’t keeping him sane for long, not when he didn’t have anything to masturbate to. then he began to focus his attention onto you. 

you were attractive, and luke couldn’t hold back how his short glances turned to stares. his jaw ticks, lips parting, “i want you to wear shorter skirts.” 

“mini skirts?” you blink at him, he had called you to his office, and his eyes were traveling over your body every second he got. 

“yeah,” he pauses, “and lower cut shirts.” 

before your lips can even part, he dismisses you, and bluntly stares at your ass when you walk away. it was so ironic, luke used to be such a virgin, a complete loser, but now he was nothing short of the opposite. he was cocky, he knew he was handsome, he knew people were attracted to him easily, mostly sexually. 

if luke was lucky, at some stops, he might be able to bring back a few women or men home with him, they always gawked at the ship, told him how cool it is that he has a boat, that he’s a captain, and has a crew, that everyone does everything for him. 

they thought it was hot, so they wanted to do things for him to, he’d take them to his quarters, and provide them with red wine before moaning could be heard all throughout the ship. 

but his boat was in the middle of the sea, and has been for a month or so now, and he felt like he was going insane. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🍷

luke was struggling to sleep, insomnia was getting the best of him, he thought that if he drank more and more wine, he would eventually wind down. he never did. he only got slopper, and aroused. the worst mix on nights like these was the bubbling frustration that he didn’t have anything to fuck, and the fact that he wanted to fuck something so bad. 

his dick strains in his boxers, and his teeth grit together, mentally cursing himself for continuously offering himself one more drink, after the third glass, knowing he’d have a fourth, and a fifth. he’d drank the whole bottle, and he wasn’t even close to tired. 

his body feels warm, so warm. you come to his mind almost immediately, making his his hands draw closer to the hem of his boxers. the way your ass looks in those skirts, the stockings that meet at the middle of your thigh, the sheer shirts that barely showed the color of your bra, the slight cleavage you show when leaning over to place paperwork on his desk. 

he recalls the one time he had came into your room in the dead of night in search of a document, but he was immediately met with the floral of your perfume, and the way your blanket barely covered your naked form. he shouldn’t look, really, he should shy away and close the door, but he swallows thick seeing your breast, the slight parting of your legs, the way your cunt barely peeks out the messily moved blanket. 

he wouldn’t have actually done it, of course, because he’s a respectable man who puts consent above all else— but he wonders what it would look like if he pushed your legs apart, moved the blanket, and spread your pussy open for him. to be sleeping naked, how scandalous. he’d never know that you purposefully put the document in your room when you knew you wanted it, you purposefully slept naked, you purposefully moved the blanket in those ‘messy’ ways. 

he inhales sharply, fingers moving underneath the fabric of his boxers to graze over his cock. it’s so perverted, to think of you like this, to imagine pulling you onto his lap the next time you come into his office, fingers gripping your skin the same way they grip his cock now. you’d probably melt into his touch, so innocent, so pliant, your doe eyes staring at him like he’s the only man who had ever existed, like he’s a god. and that’s what he is, a captain, an emperor, a god. 

he thinks of himself, and is immediately reminded of caligula. 

the roman emperor in 31 AD, he was described by some as a tyrant, but in the beginning, he was one of the best leaders in ancient rome. he was just like luke, addicted to sexual acts, wanting all the finest things in life, and the worst part— luke was just as paranoid as him. 

but that was of no worry now, he was too focused on the pleasure that coursed underneath his flesh, or the simple thought of pushing his dick into your cunt, making your eyes roll back with pleasure you’d only ever dreamed of. luke knew he could make you feel good, and eventually he would. he imagined all the positions he would push you into, on your back, on your stomach with your ass up, having you ride him— gods. 

he wondered if whenever you tried to make excuses for being far too late at typing up a paper in time, he could just simply have you on your knees for him, fucking your mouth so you’d shut up. bruising your lips, ruining your lipstick, making you cry, all of those thoughts sends luke over the edge in no less than a minute or two. 

his skin is sticky with sweat, fingers coated in his own cum, but all he wants is more. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🍷

like mentioned before, luke had a madness problem. 

ever since he had been cast out, he had this odd paranoia problem, he thought the gods would strike him down at any second, that they were watching his every move, or that percy jackson would find his way to his ship and kill him himself for all the damage he’s caused. 

the lack of sex wasn’t the only thing driving luke mad, it was the cage of his own mind. the fact that he’s surrounded by the very thing that the man who’s responsible for percy’s existence owns, the sea. it all makes him sick, often times there will be crashing from his quarters in the late of night, but it always stopped as soon as it started. 

this night was different, it just kept going. first something being pushed over, then the breaking of glass, more crashing, more shatters, yelling, some screaming— it was a nightmare. some of the crew woke up, but you were the only one who dared to take a step out onto the deck that night, let alone approach his quarters. 

knock. knock. knock. 

no response, a deafening silence underneath the crashing waves and the crackling of the candle in your hand. 

knock. knock. 

the lack of response is worrying. he almost always responds, either it’s to tell you to fuck off, or to come in. but now, nothing. he couldn’t have hurt himself, could he? you test the waters, fingers curling around the doorknob and turning it with the expectation for it to be locked as it always is. 

it was unlocked. you push the door open, glancing in to see the mess that he had made of his own room, and him just simply sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. “luke?” 

“captain,” he immediately mumbles out, a correction. 

“captain,” you repeat, taking a step further inside, he has offered nothing against you being inside of his quarters. you are typically never allowed in here. you move to close the door behind you, placing the candle into the nearest holder that wasn’t completely destroyed. 

you turn back to him, his head was raised to look at you, arms now lazily splayed onto his spread legs in his sitting position. he was a chronic manspreader, something you noticed, but seeing him faintly hunched over pathetically like this, tired eyes staring at you, sweat beading at his temple— he was so hot. 

“are you okay?” you offer, voice as sweet as ever. 

“am i okay?” he scoffs, a chuckle following after, he’s never chuckled in front of you before, “am i okay, am i okay—“ he hums, “what do you think, hm? you think i’m okay?” 

his voice is confronting and harsh, like he wants to see you cower down, like he wants to break you like all the other things in his room. your brows furrow together for a second, “no..?” 

“no, no, atta girl— you’re catchin’ on,” he smiles at you for the first time, “why don’t you help me feel better, yeah?” 

you stare at him for a second, wondering if he meant what you thought he meant, “yeah.” 

“yeah.” his voice is hushed, almost mocking, “c’mere.” 

you immediately walk over to him in the ambient lighting, marking out your silhouette, stepping over all the things he’s knocked over. a grin tugs at his lips, cruel and cocky, he loves how easy you do anything he asks. his hand is gentle on your waist, pulling you closer, “so good for me.” 

you nod at him, letting his hand guide you down to your knees, pupils dilated up at him so perfectly. his tongue swipes along the backside of his teeth, moving his hand to hold your jaw, tilting your head to properly look up at him. maybe it was wrong to fuck his assistant, someone working for him, but it just felt so right, all of this felt like it was in the prophecy. 

his thumb swipes along your bottom lip, smearing the red lipstick there, of course you put that on before coming to his room. “so pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, dipping his finger between your lips and into your mouth. your lips curve up ever so slightly, leaning into his touch, lips closing around his flesh. 

he takes it away from your mouth just as quick as it was slotted between your lips, moving to undo his belt, the veins in his hands shifted with each movement of his hands, first it was his belt, then his pants, then his boxers. 

you always thought luke would have a big dick, he just has that certain cockiness that makes you think he couldn’t have a small dick and be acting the way he is, but this felt like it would hardly fit in your mouth.  

you glance up at him, his amused stare which immediately turns to faux concern when you say, “i don’t think it’ll fit—“ 

“it will,” he immediately cuts in, prying your mouth open with his thumb whilst his free hand eases your head closer, “i’ll make it fit.” 

your tongue runs along the vein at the bottom of his dick, already feeling the heaviness of it against the muscle in your mouth. you had sucked a few dicks before, sure, but this one was the biggest, and the cleanest. his hand holds your jaw when you start taking him into your mouth properly, tongue flat against the bottom of his cock, eyes peering up at him through heavy lids. 

his lashes flutter pathetically, mouth falling open with your every movement, the way the saliva from your mouth coats him perfectly— he needed this. it felt like a dream coming right after a nightmare, he was exhausted, sweating from his breakdown, and you were sent to him right when he needed it, an angel on his shoulder. 

but you’re going too slow, and luke’s growing restless from sitting so still. he can feel the ache of your jaw, but he wishes to make it worse somehow, as cruel as it sounds. his hand moves to the back of your head, hips ever so slowly bucking into your mouth, it was barely noticeable at first, until the sound of you sputtering and gagging around him fueled him more. 

his thrusts quickly turned harsh, bruising, merciless. 

he only paused when you slapped at his thigh pathetically, moving off to pant heavily, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. you looked so messy, so pathetic, lipstick smeared, eyes puffy from falling tears. “always wanted this, huh? i notice how you look at me, always running to my office any chance you get, such a slut.” 

you nod at him, and that only makes him want to say more, “do you believe in god?” 

“yes, yes,” the response is immediate. 

“am i your god?” 

you pause at him, processing, what would the best answer be? 

yes, of course, that would be the best answer. in luke’s own mind, all this misery, all this destruction, all this betrayal, it was only the start of his story to reach the top. when caligula was next in line for the throne and his father was on his deathbed, he killed his own father with hardly any hesitation, then became one of the most memorable roman emperors alongside julius caesar. 

luke had been planning the murder of hermes for a long, long time, ever since the first book about caligula he read. killing percy jackson was a failure, all several times, so he had no other choice than to just shoot for the stars. 

luke’s eyes refocus onto the situation at hand rather than being stuck in his own mind, he had you pushed on your stomach with your ass up, the position he always wished to put you in, the position he’s put multiple other women and men in. 

his hands smooth over your ass, memorizing the canvas that he wants to splatter paint over. there’s something so intimate about this whole ordeal, the dim lighting of sole candles in all the destruction around his room, the crashing of waves on the sides of the boat as it moves through the sea, the red wine that luke drinks from the bottle he had just picked up. 

he hums at the taste, rich, perfect. “want some?” 

you shake your head, and he tuts in faux disappointment, “no fun, aren’t you? just want me to fuck you? needy, needy.” 

albeit his degrations, his tip presses to your entrance, lips pressing together when he pushes in— holy fuck, you were tight. luke’s breathing is ragged, he feels as though your pussy is desperately trying to squeeze an orgasm out of him in seconds. it only worsens when you accidentally glench, making his teeth grit together, he coughs out a bitter chuckle, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” 

“no, nono—“ it was too late for the begging for forgiveness, his thrusts were already brutal, slamming into you without a single regard for how much pain it would leave you in, in the morning. caligula was a possessive lover, a harsh fucker, a man ruled by jealousy and madness— luke castellan was born from the same map of caligula. 

his hands grip your hips harshly, punching out sweet moans from your bitten lips with every thrust, “fuck, fuck! luke!” 

luke’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek for a mere second before his hand suddenly moves to the back of your head, harshly tugging your hair back, “captain.” 

another correction. 

as soon as your back hits his chest, his hand moves from your hair to your neck, gripping the delicate skin there tight. he ignores your attempts to get his attention by placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to his jaw, leaving his skin stained with your lipstick. his eyes were too focused on the mirror placed in front of him, of course he had one there, it was cracked, but he was still able to make out the way your skin trembled underneath him, the way his thrusts sent shivers up your spine, the way he easily made you cock drunk. 

it didn’t take long for him to have you cumming on him as well, in which he followed soon after with a gritted out fuck. 

luke’s eyes may be glazed over when he looks back in the mirror, but he doesn’t see himself in his position, he sees caligula. 

[rosemariecawkwell]

Pen & Sword Review: Sex and Sexuality in Ancient Rome, by LJ Trafford

Pen & Sword Review: Sex and Sexuality in Ancient Rome, by LJ Trafford

Imprint: Pen & Sword HistorySeries: Sex and SexualityPages: 224ISBN: 9781526786876Published: 23rd September 2021 Blurb From Emperors and empresses, poets and prostitutes, slaves and plebs, Ancient Rome was a wealth of different experiences and expectations. None more so than around the subject of sex and sexuality. The image of Ancient Rome that has come down to us is one of sexual excess:…

[dwellordream]

- David Wheeler-Reed, “EARLY CHURCH: The Battle Begins”

[catominor]

wait im legit pondering this now...

[rrcraft-and-lore]

In addition to my Monkey Man post from earlier, the always kind & sweet Aparna Verma (author of The Phoenix King, check it out) asked that I do a thread on Hijras, & more of the history around them, South Asia, mythology (because that's my thing), & the positive inclusion of them in Monkey Man which I brought up in my gushing review.

Hijra: They are the transgender, eunuch, or intersex people in India who are officially recognized as the third sex throughout most countries in the Indian subcontinent. The trans community and history in India goes back a long way as being documented and officially recognized - far back as 12th century under the Delhi Sultanate in government records, and further back in our stories in Hinduism. The word itself is a Hindi word that's been roughly translated into English as "eunuch" commonly but it's not exactly accurate.

Hijras have been considered the third sex back in our ancient stories, and by 2014 got official recognition to identify as the third gender (neither male or female) legally. Pakistan, Nepal, Bangladesh, and India have accepted: eunuch, trans, intersex people & granted them the proper identification options on passports and other government official documents.

But let's get into some of the history surrounding the Hijra community (which for the longest time has been nomadic, and a part of India's long, rich, and sometimes, sadly, troubled history of nomadic tribes/people who have suffered a lot over the ages. Hijras and intersex people are mentioned as far back as in the Kama Sutra, as well as in the early writings of Manu Smriti in the 1st century CE (Common Era), specifically said that a third sex can exist if possessing equal male and female seed.

This concept of balancing male/female energies, seed, and halves is seen in two places in South Asian mythos/culture and connected to the Hijra history.

First, we have Aravan/Iravan (romanized) - who is also the patron deity of the transgender community. He is most commonly seen as a minor/village deity and is depicted in the Indian epic Mahabharata. Aravan is portrayed as having a heroic in the story and his self-sacrifice to the goddess Kali earns him a boon.

He requests to be married before his death. But because he is doomed to die so shortly after marriage, no one wants to marry him.

No one except Krishna, who adopts his female form Mohini (one of the legendary temptresses in mythology I've written about before) and marries him. It is through this union of male, and male presenting as female in the female form of Mohini that the seed of the Hijras is said to begun, and why the transgender community often worships Aravan and, another name for the community is Aravani - of/from Aravan.

But that's not the only place where a gender non conforming divine representation can be seen. Ardhanarishvara is the half female form of lord Shiva, the destroyer god.

Shiva combines with his consort Parvarti and creates a form that represents the balancing/union between male/female energies and physically as a perfectly split down the middle half-male half-female being. This duality in nature has long been part of South Asian culture, spiritual and philosophical beliefs, and it must be noted the sexuality/gender has often been displayed as fluid in South Asian epics and the stories. It's nothing new.

Many celestial or cosmic level beings have expressed this, and defied modern western limiting beliefs on the ideas of these themes/possibilities/forms of existence.

Ardhanarishvara signifies "totality that lies beyond duality", "bi-unity of male and female in God" and "the bisexuality and therefore the non-duality" of the Supreme Being.

Back to the Hijra community.

They have a complex and long history. Throughout time, and as commented on in the movie, Monkey Man, the Hijra community has faced ostracization, but also been incorporated into mainstream society there. During the time of the Dehli Sultanate and then later the Mughal Empire, Hijras actually served in the military and as military commanders in some records, they were also servants for wealthy households, manual laborers, political guardians, and it was seen as wise to put women under the protection of Hijras -- they often specifically served as the bodyguards and overseers of harems. A princess might be appointed a Hijra warrior to guard her.

But by the time of British colonialism, anti-Hijra laws began to come in place folded into laws against the many nomadic tribes of India (also shown in part in Monkey Man with Kid (portrayed by Dev Patel) and his family, who are possibly

one of those nomadic tribes that participated in early theater - sadly by caste often treated horribly and relegated to only the performing arts to make money (this is a guess based on the village play they were performing as no other details were given about his family).

Hijras were criminalized in 1861 by the Indian Penal Code enforced by the British and were labeled specifically as "The Hijra Problem" -- leading to an anti-Hijra campaign across the subcontinent with following laws being enacted: punishing the practices of the Hijra community, and outlawing castration (something many Hijra did to themselves). Though, it should be noted many of the laws were rarely enforced by local Indian officials/officers. But, the British made a point to further the laws against them by later adding the Criminal Tribes Act in 1871, which targeted the Hijra community along with the other nomadic Indian tribes - it subjected them to registration, tracking/monitoring, stripping them of children, and their ability to sequester themselves in their nomadic lifestyle away from the British Colonial Rule.

Today, things have changed and Hijras are being seen once again in a more positive light (though not always and this is something Monkey Man balances by what's happened to the community in a few scenes, and the heroic return/scene with Dev and his warriors). All-hijra communities exist and sort of mirror the western concept of "found families" where they are safe haven/welcoming place trans folks and those identifying as intersex.

These communities also have their own secret language known as Hijra Farsi, which is loosely based on Hindi, but consists of a unique vocabulary of at least 1,000 words.

As noted above, in 2014, the trans community received more legal rights.

Specifically: In April 2014, Justice K. S. Radhakrishnan declared transgender to be the third gender in Indian law in National Legal Services Authority v. Union of India.

Hijras, Eunuchs, apart from binary gender, be treated as "third gender" for the purpose of safeguarding their rights under Part III of our Constitution and the laws made by the Parliament and the State Legislature. Transgender persons' right to decide their self-identified gender is also upheld and the Centre and State Governments are directed to grant legal recognition of their gender identity such as male, female or as third gender.

I've included some screenshots of (some, not all, and certainly not the only/definitive reads) books people can check out about SOME of the history. Not all again. This goes back ages and even our celestial beings/creatures have/do display gender non conforming ways.

There are also films that touch on Hijra history and life. But in regards to Monkey Man, which is what started this thread particularly and being asked to comment - it is a film that positively portrayed India's third sex and normalized it in its depiction. Kid the protagonist encounters a found family of Hijras at one point in the story (no spoilers for plot) and his interactions/acceptance, living with them is just normal. There's no explaining, justifying, anything to/for the audience. It simply is. And, it's a beautiful arc of the story of Kid finding himself in their care/company.