#greek name bank

[shiranuieditorial]

Light & Airy ✨

Personal name ideas for you, your characters, pets, future kids, or just for the sake of the discussion! All free to use! 🤗

⚠️ Disclaimer: Genders mentioned below are only intended as guidance; not strict rules I’m ordering anyone to follow.

Feminine-leaning given names:

艾咏 Aiyong

Amanda

Anya

April

Brianne

Cherry

Demah

Elara

Essie

Farah

Feriyal

日桜 Hio

Iin

Kaia

和咲 Kazusa

Kirana

Laila

Lorelei

Mehelia

味蕾 Mirai

Pia

Rihanna

流実 Rumi

Sari

文麗 Wenli

Yanti

弓杏 Yua

Zoulah

Gender-neutral & unisex given names:

Aria

亜早 Asa

白赫 Baihe

Dara

Dewey

Efren

Emre

Foxy

芽生 Gao

Hallie

Harper

輝羽 Hwiu

Irama

Lucky

Mahaka

Morning

Noa

Ora

Ovie

Pom

Roya

Salewyn

Sherrel

Tinne

Venera

怡翎 Yiling

Zephyr

茲棋 Ziqi

Masculine-leaning given names:

André

Chaim

Diler

演二 Enji

Hapsara

Helio

Iago

Iriawan

Karim

Kindi

Kopong

Lev

丸応 Maruo

Neo

Nuwa

Owain

René

Riady

Soren

Tasafi

Thamin

Vier

Wayan

希明 Ximing

Yahya

Yansen

Ziko

Zulkifli

Okay, okay, okay... Explanation time!

🌬️ So, these names I’ve compiled sound or feel soft, light, and airy to me, regardless of what their respective etymologies mean.

🎐 It’s all about the vibes with this one! In my head, I’m taking a moment to feel the breeze in my face…

Who says we have to be so serious and formal and academic all the time? 🤷🏽

Let’s try to have some light-hearted fun with this name bank!

⠀

🗺️ There’s a variety of cultures and languages featured here. The Sinitic ones in particular are:

🇨🇳 艾咏 Aiyong — “mugwort chanting; mugwort singing”

🇯🇵 日桜 Hio — “sunny cherry”

🇯🇵 和咲 Kazusa — “harmonious blooming”

🇯🇵 味蕾 Mirai — “taste bud”, lit. “flavour” + “flower bud”

🇯🇵 流実 Rumi — “flowing into reality”

🇨🇳 文麗 Wenli — “prettiness of culture and literature”

🇯🇵 弓杏 Yua — “bow and apricot”

🇯🇵 亜早 Asa — “inferior morning”

🇨🇳 白赫 Baihe — “white radiance; white eminence”

🇯🇵 芽生 Gao — “shooting forth sprouts”

🇰🇷 輝羽 (휘우) Hwiu — “bright splendour feather”

🇨🇳 怡翎 Yiling — “plumes of rejoice”

🇨🇳 茲棋 Ziqi — “this chess”

🇯🇵 演二 Enji — “performance two”

🇯🇵 丸応 Maruo — “round answer”

🇨🇳 希明 Ximing — “hopeful brightness”

⠀

Curious about any other name’s meaning and origin? 🤔

Don’t worry! I had researched everything before putting them in the list. It’s a habit at this point. 👌🏼

Send me an ask or comment below any curiosity and I’ll respond! 👇🏼

⠀

👀 Let me know which of these given names caught your eye? Do you know anyone with any of these names? Do you agree or disagree with my personal interpretation of “light and airy” vibes?

[therinos]

what do u mean Greeks and Latinos have had illegal names for ages...

i mean the incredibly strong nickname culture to the point where you don't actually know your friends' legal names!

for example: my friend whom I've known since we were teenagers, whom everyone calls Sonia. We found out last year that her legal name is Sofia. I've known her for more than a decade! What Do You Mean You Were Christened Sofia?!

But yeah that's a very common experience and from what I've seen & been told by latine friends, it's also common in their cultures to have that whole thing.

[tanadrin]

medieval monks and accountants start using Italian millione ("one thousand" + augmentative suffix) to mean 10^6 by the 1200s; this spreads to other languages

Jehan Adam coins bymillion and trimillion to mean 10^12 and 10^18 in 1475

Nicolas Chuquet extends this scale up to nonyllion (10^54), with every step being another six orders of magnitude (million, byllion, tryllion, quadrillion, quyllion, sixlion, septyllion, ottylion, nonyllion) in 1484. Note that in this period, it was common to put the digit separator every six digits instead of every three.

Guillaume Budé refers to 10^9 as milliart in 1516, in a Latin text

But in 1549, Jacques Pelletier du Mans uses milliard to mean 10^12, citing Budé as a source

In the 1600s, people start putting digit separators every three digits. But some scientists and mathematicians define the numerical scale according to how digits are grouped, rather than the actual order of magnitude: thus, one billion becomes 10^9, one trillion becomes 10^12, etc, creating the short scale.

"Milliard" is eventually added to the long scale, meaning 10^9 (in keeping with Budé's usage); the first published example is from 1676

By 1729, the short-scale meaning of "billion" (10^9) has already crept into American usage

This is in keeping with French usage at the time: in 1762, the Académie Française dictionary cites billion as meaning 10^9.

By the early 19th century, France has almost completely converted to the short scale, and U.S. usage follows France; the long scale is referred to in some sources as "obsolete." But Britain is still using the long scale (and I assume Germany and most other European countries)

Over the course of the 20th century, the long scale begins to become more influential in France, presumably due to the influence of continental usage; while the short scale becomes more influential in Britain, presumably due to the influence of American English. Notably the SI system very specifically uses unique prefixes that are the same across languages, to prevent confusion!

In 1961, the French Government confirms that they're going to officially use the long scale from now on; in 1974, Britain officially switches over to the short scale, and many other English-speaking countries follow.

In 1975, the terms "short scale" and "long scale" are actually coined, by mathematician Geneviève Guitel.

One reason large number names could be so unstable for so long is, of course, that outside specialized usage they are rare, and were even more rare before modern science and large modern monetary amounts became commonplace points of discussion. Wikipedia says "milliard" wasn't common in German until 1923, when bank notes had to be overstamped during Weimar-era hyperinflation.

As it currently stands, English, Indonesian, Hebrew, Russian, Turkish, and most varieties of Arabic use the short scale; continental Europe and most varieties of Spanish outside Europe use the long scale. A few countries use both, usually in different languages, like South African English (short scale) and Afrikaans (long scale) or Canadian English (short scale) and Canadian French (long scale) . Puerto Rico uses the short scale in economic and technical usage, but the long scale in publications aimed at export.

Notably some languages use neither, having their own names for large numbers--South Asian languages have the Indian numbering system, and Bhutan, Cambodia, and various East Asian languages also have their own numbering systems. Greek, exceptionally, uses a native calque of the short scale rather than a borrowing.

[tylermileslockett]

Hey folks, this image of Apollo was done for a private commission. Xoxo

The following text is reposted from my previous Apollo Olympians image.

“Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched lyre, always sings both first and last…And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favor with my song.”  (-Homeric Hymn, translated by H.G. Evelyn white)

APOLLO (uh-PAH-low), God of prophecy, oracles, music, art, protector of and disease of boys and men, and archery. Just as his twin sister Artemis is patron to women and girls, Apollo is both protector, and killer from disease of boys and men. In my Illustration the god holds his bow and arrows behind, while he strums the lyre gifted to him by trickster Hermes. Near the sun flies his ally and divine messenger, a white raven. The column on the right is capped with a cow, representing his sacred animal as a god of herds. The serpent Python sits dead at his feet, killed by Apollo’s arrow so that the god could take over the Delphi temple location. The temple complex sits beneath the god, while on the far right, the Pythia (Apollo’s oracle priestess) sits upon a tripod, breathing the hallucinatory gasses seeping up from the earth to get her prophecies which she bestows upon visitors.

The laurel tree has associations with Apollo because the god, chasing a Naiad (water nymph) named Daphne call out to Gaia (mother earth) for help, who transformed the nymph into a laurel tree, which the god adopted as his sacred tree. In book 1 of the Iliad, Apollo supports the Trojans by raining down a plague on the Greeks, and later helping Paris to kill Achilles. Apollo’s cruelty is shown in Ovid’s mythical lyre contest with the inventor of the flute; a satyr named Marsyas. When Apollo suggested they play their instruments upside down, the satyr lost, and was flayed (skinned) alive as punishment for his hubris. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 11: Hephaestus, God Of Fire]

A/N: Only 1 chapter left!!! 🥰💜

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 5.4k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Here is our final interlude. Do you have the patience?

President Lyndon Baines Johnson has halted all U.S. attacks on North Vietnam: no bombs from the air, no infantry on the ground, no artillery shells launched by destroyers cruising in the South China Sea. The election will determine what happens next. If Nixon wins, military operations will resume until the South Vietnamese are in a sufficiently advantageous position to defend themselves from the communists. If Aemond is the victor, troop withdrawals will begin shortly after he is inaugurated on January 20th.

Regardless, it will not be until almost a full year from now, in October of 1969, that it becomes illegal for employers to reserve positions for men; the common practice of refusing to hire women with preschool-aged children will not be outlawed until 1971. Unmarried people will not be guaranteed access to contraception until 1972. Abortion will not be legalized across all fifty states until 1973. Women will not have a right to their own bank accounts or credit cards until 1974. It will not be illegal to exclude women from juries until 1975. The first female Supreme Court justice, Sandra Day O’Connor, will be appointed in 1981. There will be no female president of the United States, not for at least half a century after our story ends.

Each night on CBS Evening News, Walter Cronkite recaps the latest poll numbers. Nixon appears to have a slight advantage, due in large part to pulling ahead in Florida, Illinois, Ohio, and his home state of California. Aemond has comfortable leads in Texas, Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey. George Wallace will likely sweep the Deep South: Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Arkansas. From their hovels, the racists rejoice. From her grave, Lurleen Wallace rests uneasily, scratching at the lid of her coffin with the bones of her fingers, entombed in dark oblivion like all the rest of the world’s discarded wives.

~~~~~~~~~~

You go for the door, but Aemond is faster; he catches you just as your hand is twisting the handle and the hinges creak. He throws you against the wall so hard the paintings rattle: replicas of Monets and Warhols, Almond Blossoms, The Birth of Venus. You fight, clawing at him, ripping off the eyepatch that Alys must have at last convinced him was no defeat to wear. The hollow, gore-colored abyss of his left eye socket beckons you to fall in and be burned: Hestia’s eternal hearth, the volcanic forge of Hephaestus. He’s fire all the way down, hunger and fury, bones charred black and brittle. You think of the uninhabitable furnace of Jupiter’s moon Io, lethal radiation, poisoned air, lava bubbling up like blood through a bullet wound.

“You can’t hit me,” you gasp. “You need me for photos—”

His knuckles are in your belly, crosshairs made of scar tissue. The air collapses out of your lungs; your vision dims like twilight, like an eclipse. You’re on the floor and trying to crawl away from him. Aemond’s fingers hook into the fabric of your robe; it matches the silk nightgown you wear beneath, a pale anemic pink, something soft and young and desireless, something eternally at others’ mercy, something to be guarded or gutted. He’s dragging you towards him.

He’s going to hit me again, he might even kill me.

“Stop, stop,” you plead, still struggling to breathe. “What if I’m pregnant?!”

You almost certainly can’t be, but Aemond doesn’t know that. Yet his lone eye glints like metal, like coins, no weak mortal compassion. “I would have no way of being sure it was mine.” And then he tries to cover your mouth as you scream for help. You bite at his fingers; your bare feet kick the wall. Your hair, long and loose and wild, flows around you like a bride’s veil.

Too late, Aemond realizes that the door is still open a crack from when you grabbed the handle. There are footsteps and a voice that crescendos as it approaches: “What on earth is going on in here…?” Fosco appears in the threshold, yellow tweed jacket, tight olive green trousers. He stares thunderstruck down at where you and Aemond are entangled on the floor.

You beg: “Fosco, help me.”

“No, no, no,” Fosco says, jolting from his paralysis and holding a hand out towards Aemond. “No, you cannot do this, whatever has happened, you cannot touch her like—”

“She’s not your wife,” Aemond says. She’s not your property. Fosco hesitates; his large dark eyes shifting between the two of you from behind his glasses.

“Aemond, brother, listen to—”

“Get out.” Aemond’s voice is low, searing, malignant.

“Fosco, please don’t leave me,” you whimper. You try to pry Aemond’s fingers off your robe; they dig in deeper, bruising the flesh underneath. “Don’t leave me, don’t let him hurt me.”

Abruptly, Fosco turns and sprints out of the room.

“No!” you shout after him before Aemond grabs your face, his hand like a claw, fingernails leaving half-moon indents in your cheeks, crushing pressure on your jaw.

“You’re trying to sabotage this campaign.”

“I didn’t see the reporters, I swear to God.”

He knocks the back of your skull against the wall so hard that you see momentary flashes like stars, that all the words vanish from your throat, that words cease to exist at all. “You’re a traitor. Do you know the penalty for treason? The U.S. Army would have you executed by firing squad. Zeus would chain you to a rock so your liver could be carved out.”

“You betrayed me first,” you hiss through clenched teeth, your head pounding hot and maroon.

“I have been working for this since before you were born. You can’t take it away from me. I won’t let you.”

“I did everything right and you still couldn’t love me.” You swing at Aemond and he catches your wounded hand, squeezes it, digs his thumb into the spot where the doctors stitched you closed. The pain is excruciating, incapacitating. You wail as scarlet flowers bloom through the white of your bandaged palm.

Now the door flies open again and Aegon collides with Aemond, sends him sprawling, crouches over you. He’s screaming something at Aemond, gripping your shoulder to keep you under him, his too-long hair hanging in his face, black turtleneck sweater, one of Daeron’s frayed army jackets thrown over it, ripped jeans, bare feet. Aemond grabs his brother by the lapel of his army jacket and draws back his fist. His golden wedding ring flashes in the grey November sunlight that streams in through the windows. Aegon doesn’t flinch. He’s taken knuckles to the face before; you remember cleaning blood off his skin under a streetlight in Biloxi, you remember not wanting to wash him away.

“Don’t you see what it will look like?!” Fosco is saying, trying to coax Aemond to relent. “If he is photographed with a busted face after that story comes out? If she has bruises or a black eye? By harming them you are confirming what your enemies have printed, and the voters will believe it is the truth.”

“They already know it’s true!” Aemond snatches the Wall Street Journal off the table and hurls it at Fosco. Then he paces back and forth through the room, glaring at where you are still crumpled on the floor, sobbing, cradling your bleeding hand to your chest. “It’s right there, three goddamn photographs, and that’s all it will take to bring down a lifetime of work!”

Fosco studies the pictures again, shaking his head, one hand covering his mouth. At last he offers weakly: “It could be worse, Aemond.”

“How could it be worse?!”

Aegon scrambles to Fosco to rip the newspaper out of his hands, then returns to you. He hasn’t seen the front-page story yet. He skims it frantically. “This? This is what you’re losing your mind over? It’s dark, it’s blurry, they can’t even see what’s going on!”

“I have one fucking eye and I can see it!”

“So come up with another explanation, this doesn’t prove anything.”

“If she costs me the election—”

“If you lose, it won’t be because of her!” Aegon roars back. “It will be because the Democrats have held the White House for eight years and the world has gone to hell on our watch, it will be because of Kennedy, and Johnson, and Vietnam and the riots and the hippies and the drugs and the assassinations, it will be because Nixon is promising law and order in a time when nobody is safe, it will be because you just weren’t good enough. But she has given more to your cause than anyone. You hit her and you’ll lose your other eye.”

“They were in conversation,” Fosco says, meaning the photos. The four of you know that’s not true; it is a lie for the rest of the world, it is hope for Aemond’s campaign. “On the beach. They were whispering, comforting each other. Because of Mimi. That is all.”

Aemond scoffs, his remaining eye fierce and wrathful as it lands on you again. Aegon grips your shoulder, still crouching over you, still shielding you. “You bitch. I should have left you at that party in Manhattan to be the dope-smoking whore you were when I found you.”

“I shouldn’t have helped save your life in Palm Beach.”

And Aemond blinks at you, not hurt but bewildered, like he doesn’t understand your words, like what you said is impossible. He doesn’t believe you saved him. He believes it was God’s will.

Otto storms into the hotel room and takes in the scene: you and Aegon on the floor, Aemond pacing furiously, Fosco attempting to mediate. “Nobody says anything,” Otto commands, deep booming voice, black suit like he’s going to a funeral. “The Wall Street Journal hates Aemond. Everyone knows that, they’re probably the only national publication that would run the story. Our newspapers are already pushing the counternarrative, that this was a shameful, deceitful, desperate attempt to discredit Aemond right before the election. Our supporters will insist upon an innocent explanation. Nixon’s will use the photos as evidence of our degeneracy, our amorality, us immigrants with our strange faith and our progressive politics. Everyone else in the country will be warring over this headline. We will say nothing. We will conduct business as usual. The best thing we can do now is go out there and keep our schedule as planned.” He looks meaningfully at Aemond. “And your wife must be at your side. Smiling, unscathed, devoted.”

“I lost my composure,” Aemond says to you, more collected now, businesslike. He is smoothing any wrinkles out of his suit jacket. “I was wrong to put my hands on you. I apologize for that. It was beneath me.”

You reply: “Very little is beneath you, I’ve learned.”

“You have been.” A trace of a grin, crooked and cruel. “Plenty of times. And you will be again.”

Aegon is watching is brother, seething but terrified, sheltering you with power that is only illusory, never real. It is a mirage that Aemond or Otto could punch through at any moment. It is glass that would shatter into crystalline dust.

“If I win, you will beg on your knees for forgiveness,” Aemond tells you. “You will beg in private, you will be perfection in public, and I will magnanimously overlook this indiscretion in which you were taken advantage of by my notoriously dissolute brother. There was no affair. There was a fleeting moment of weakness on your part and depravity on Aegon’s. We will put it in the past. I will be the president of the United States and you will be my first lady. You will spend every second of your existence in service of my career, my country, and my legacy. You will give me children. You will obey me entirely. And you and Aegon will never be in a room alone together for the rest of your lives.”

“You can’t keep me away from her,” Aegon says.

“I just did. I make the rules here, I am the heir to this empire. If you wanted that responsibility, you should have seized it. You squandered it, you cursed it. It’s mine now.”

A whisper: “Aemond, it’ll kill me.”

“Then have the dignity to die quietly. It will be the most useful thing you’ve ever done.”

“Aegon must be seen in public too,” Fosco says, trying to sound like he isn’t defending him. “If you appear to be punishing or excluding him, it will be used as evidence of his guilt.”

Aemond nods, then turns to his brother. “As soon as the election is called, whichever way it goes, I want you gone. I don’t care where you go. I don’t care what happens to you once you’re there. You will disappear. We will say it was your choice, and if you comply you can keep your children and receive a modest amount of severance pay to get you started. And as long as you abide by my terms, my wife will not be harmed.”

Aegon doesn’t reply. His large Atlantic-blue eyes glisten, his lips tremble, his hand is still on your shoulder. You think through the throbbing pain of your bleeding palm: Is this the last time he’ll ever touch me?

Otto grabs Aegon, wrenches him away from you, drags him yowling and clawing at the carpet through the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your hand is freshly bandaged, pristine white gauze that people in the crowd jostle to touch like the relic of a saint, to pray over, to kiss. Men tell you how brave you are to bear the pain without weeping. Women give you komboskini, stained not with their husband’s blood but with only the clean, colorless ether of hope, faith, reverence, love.

Fosco and Helaena have been dispatched to accompany the children on a tour of the Franklin Institute, one of the oldest centers of science education in the nation. Aemond is giving a speech in front of the Liberty Bell at Independence Hall. You and the others are arranged around him like a starving crescent moon. You are standing immediately on Aemond’s left side, Aegon placed at his right. He looks drunk, he looks drugged; you aren’t sure if anyone else can tell, but you can. His cheeks are flushed. His eyes are pools of murky, desolate indigo like the night sky between stars. A few attendees give the two of you curious glances, but no mention is made of the accusations in the Wall Street Journal. You get the sense that if someone took it upon themselves to ask a question on the subject, they would be jeered, reviled, banished like President Johnson, who is currently besieged in the White House by the ghosts of Vietnam.

When you look to Aemond, you see his scar, his prosthetic eye, fierce and stoic determination in the lines of his face. He is quoting the inscription on the bell: “Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof…” The bronze metal has a crack in it like one of Zeus’s lightning bolts. The smile on your face is frozen, demure, humble. Aegon’s eyes accidentally catch on yours—a childlike vulnerability, a deep raw woundedness—and then swiftly dart away.

“America is the Land of Opportunity, but some have forgotten that,” Aemond says into the microphone, and vengeance creeps into his voice like a spider up a wall. “Unfortunately, for as long as new communities have arrived at our shores, vile and prejudiced lies have been used to demonize them. Greek immigrants have been crossing the Atlantic for over a century. In 1909, rioters violently expelled them from Omaha, Nebraska. In 1922, an anti-Greek initiative was launched by the Ku Klux Klan. In 1924, Congress drastically restricted my people’s entry in favor of migrants from Northwestern European nations like Britain and Germany. Greeks have been condemned as unintelligent, immoral, and unworthy of the glorious opportunities of this country. We have been barred from jobs and universities, we have been used as cannon fodder in the World Wars. Discrimination against any group is antithetical to the American Dream. I have given an eye for this nation, my wife has bled for it, my brother has—even in the midst of personal tragedy—uprooted his life and the lives of his children to fight alongside me for a better America, and I will not stand by silently as the Targaryen name is tarnished by bigoted falsehoods…”

Now you can no longer hear him over the thunder of the applause, and you remember all the other faces in all those other cities, their eyes illuminated as if by fire, as if by the sun. You imagine devotees of the Greek gods bowing low in temples of white marble and flickering torches, bringing offerings of gold and livestock, grain and blood, murmuring prayers, bargaining for miracles. Did the gods hear them? Do the gods love anyone but themselves?

Alicent and Criston are watching you and Aegon with the same eyes: large, dark, shimmering, a curious combination of horror and profound sympathy. You can feel yourself becoming a ghost, a legend, a myth. One day people will read about you in textbooks and academic journals, in plaques erected at Aemond’s alma mater, Columbia University, and your own, Manhattanville College; and they will know only the fabled version of you. Who you really were will fade into nothingness like Echo, like Icarus into the waves, like Eurydice when her lover Orpheus dared to glimpse back at her.

That night in your penthouse suite at the Ritz-Carlton, you get out of the bathtub—dewy with steam, donning your pink robe—and then go to your side of the king-sized bed and slide open the top drawer of the nightstand. The card Aegon gave you at Mount Sinai isn’t there. Your heartbeat quickens; your stomach lurches.

“What…?”

You get down on your knees to reach into the back of the drawer, to see if the card has snagged somewhere. You hear footsteps and whirl to see Aemond standing in the doorway between the bedroom and the living room. He is holding the card. The cartoon cow beams jubilantly at you. You recall what Aegon wrote inside after crossing out the manufacturer’s message: I thought this was blank…congrats on the new calf! As your eyes widen, Aemond rips the card down the middle.

“Don’t!” you scream, rushing for him. “Please don’t, it’s all I have from—!”

Aemond shoves you back and then, with a grin more like a wolf baring its teeth, tears through the remnants again and again until the card is nothing but shreds. He opens the sliding glass door that leads out onto the balcony and throws them into the cold night wind, where they scatter in a flurry like snowflakes, like bones turned to splinters by cluster bombs in the swamps of Vietnam.

The paper fragments spiral down thirty stories towards the zooming headlights on South Broad Street, and you think about following them. Then Aemond pulls you into his arms as frigid air blows through you and whispers: “You don’t need Aegon anymore. You just need me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Monday, November 4th, and you are walking alongside Ludwika on Broadway in Astoria, Queens, the part of New York City known as Greektown. She chats about the modelling jobs she did here before meeting Otto, her Louis Vuitton stilettos clicking on the sidewalk, her Camel cigarettes smudged with red Yardley lipstick. It is an act of kindness; she is trying to distract you. A few yards away, Fosco is telling Aegon about how he just won $500 by betting on the NASCAR Peach State 200, held at Jefco Speedway in Georgia. Aegon nods along, preoccupied, miserable. He has dark shadows around his eyes and is smoking one of his Lucky Strikes. He is wearing a green knit cap, windblown curls of his blonde hair escaping from underneath. You’re not supposed to stare at Aegon, but sometimes you can’t help it. You miss him. You’re worried about him.

The Targaryens have suites reserved at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan, where the family will stay through Election Day to witness the results as they are tallied on the evening news. The children are there now, enjoying pizza from Little Italy with Helaena and the nannies. But you and the other adults are being photographed by flocks of journalists as you head for lunch at one of the oldest Greek diners in the United States, paying homage to Aemond’s ancestry. The candidate himself is locked in a fraught conversation with Otto and Criston: polls gaining here, polls slipping there, Nixon inching further ahead in Florida, the state you were supposed to help Aemond win.

“What should I order?” Ludwika asks you. “Not spinach pie, oh, horrible, worse than Hitler. Something else. Why can’t we go to a Polish restaurant for once? I will take you sometime. You will see. You will try a pierogi and never look back. We invented bagels, you know.”

“Beagles?” Fosco says. “What an accomplishment! They are so cute!”

“Bagels, stupido.”

“Do not bully me. I am suffering too. I should be back at the hotel eating a prosciutto pizza.”

As you pass an electronics shop with stacks of televisions in the windows, all turned to NBC news, the journalists begin to gasp and chatter excitedly amongst themselves. The flashbulbs strobe madly, shutters clicking and reporters shouting for Aemond to give them a comment. The youngest Targaryen brother has appeared on the screens, bruised and gaunt and missing teeth. He looks twenty years older than he is. His once-golden hair is turning white.

Otto sputters: “What…what the hell is that?!”

“Oh my God, Daeron!” Alicent howls, and then bursts into the shop so she can hear what her lost son is saying. The rest of you hurry after her, locking the front door behind you so the journalists can’t follow. Through the windows, they take photographs until Fosco and Ludwika lower the blinds.

Inside the maze of electronics, three adolescent employees gawk at the presidential candidate and his retinue. “Out,” Otto instructs them, and then, when they are too stunned to immediately vacate the premises: “I said, get out!” The teenagers scurry into the backroom and slam the door.

“Daeron,” Alicent moans in front of a Zenith color television. Tears flow torrentially from her huge, horrified eyes. Criston holds her, arms circling, his cheek pressed to hers, and you are reminded of how Aegon touched you in your hotel room in Houston, in his basement at Asteria, on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean.

Daeron is saying: “The United States has committed war crimes in Vietnam. I am ashamed of the actions my country has taken here. We have burned children with napalm, executed innocent civilians, and interfered in matters that we have no legitimate jurisdiction over…”

“He is reading from a script,” Fosco says. “You can see his eyes following the words.”

“Shh,” Otto snaps.

Daeron continues: “The only honorable course of action now is to immediately withdrawal all American soldiers from Vietnam…”

“I think this will help us, actually,” Otto says. “People will know he’s being forced to make propaganda for the communists, and they will have sympathy for him and the family. They’ll want to rescue him and all the other servicemen too. He’s obviously…under duress.”

Aegon drops to his knees and puts his palm against the screen over Daeron’s face, just like the shadows of your fingers once fell over Ari as he fought for his life in an incubator in Mount Sinai Hospital. “Do you see what they’re doing to him?” He turns to Aemond with tears in his eyes. “What you did to him? You left him there, you abandoned him, and now he’s being tortured.”

Alicent looks to Aemond, puzzled, petrified. “You tried to get him out, didn’t you?” Aemond doesn’t answer. Otto averts his gaze, counting the tiles on the floor.

“Dear lord,” Ludwika mutters, lighting a fresh Camel cigarette and puffing on it anxiously.

“Was it worth it?” Aegon demands. “Selling your soul?”

Aemond is steely, resolved. “It’s almost over.”

“You were all right.” Aegon stands, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his green-striped sweater. “I don’t have what it takes to win the presidency. I couldn’t do something like this. Me, the perennial fuckup. Me, the godless degenerate.”

“Aegon,” Alicent whispers. “Please…please don’t…”

He turns to his mother, insurmountably sad. “Mom, I tried to stop him.” Alicent sobs and covers her face with both hands as Criston embraces her. She can’t even look at Aemond. She can’t believe what he’s become. Her long coppery hair flows like blood.

You reach for Aegon, your fingertips brushing his ruddy cheek, and immediately he folds into you, burying his face in the curve of your neck, breathing in your warmth as you inhale his smoke and rum and pain and terror. “Daeron will be home soon,” you say, not knowing if it’s true. Your bandaged hand aches; your throat burns.

“I should have gone instead. It should have been me.”

“No, Aegon. Your children need you, I need you. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Then Aemond yanks you away, his grip on your wrist like an anchor, like chains.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dad, play us something,” Orion says; and it is the first time you can remember him calling Aegon that. Aegon smiles. He’s sitting on one of the couches in the penthouse suite you share with Aemond, the Gibson guitar he bought back in July lying across his lap as he strums it absentmindedly. The television is on and turned to CBS News. It’s just before midnight on Tuesday, November 5th, Election Day. The children are thrilled. It’s the one night they’re allowed to stay up as late as they’re physically able to. This allowance is not purely altruistic; Aemond wants them awake and ready for photographs as soon as the winner is announced.

“What should I play?”

“Frank Sinatra,” Fosco says. He is beside Aegon on the couch, smoking a cigar and flipping through the Sports section of the New York Times, which he’s not really reading.

“Marvin Gaye,” Ludwika suggests. They are both on your side of the room. Aemond, Otto, Sargent Shriver, and a number of campaign staffers are huddled around the television, transfixed by the ever-updating vote totals. Alicent and Criston are between your factions, murmuring back and forth to each other, flutes of golden champagne in their hands. Helaena is on the floor entertaining Violeta, Daphne, and Neaera with Crayolas and coloring books full of scenes from gardens. You recall how eerily calm Helaena had been the night Aemond was shot in Palm Beach, like she somehow already knew he’d survive. Now she is nervous, looking fretfully around the room, wringing her hands, filling outlines of butterflies with ten different shades of blue.

“The Beatles,” Orion tells Aegon, casting Fosco and Ludwika a judgmental teenage glance.

“Any particular song?”

“You can pick.”

Aegon sips at his rum, ice cubes clinking in the glass. He looks over to the coffee table, where you are embroiled in a game of Battleship with Cosmo. He’s getting better; he’s genuinely sunk your destroyer and submarine so far. Then Aegon’s eyes drop to his guitar strings and he plucks the opening notes of In My Life. His voice is soft and low, almost secretive.

“There are places I’ll remember

All my life, though some have changed

Some forever, not for better

Some have gone and some remain…”

Cosmo turns to watch his father. Orion, Spiro, Thaddeus, and Evangelos are gathered around Aegon’s feet, gazing up at him with admiration, with love.

“All these places had their moments

With lovers and friends, I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life, I’ve loved them all...”

Cheers erupt over by the television; Aemond has just won Michigan. But then tense, indistinct deliberations follow. Florida is still too close to call, a bad omen. You wonder where Alys is as she watches the results come in. There must be some part of her—however small, however smothered—that fears Aemond will win. If he captures the presidency, she could be separated from the man she loves for the better part of a decade. You drink your Pink Squirrel, wishing it was stronger. You think of sea sponge divers down in the depths and imagine what that first gulp of air tastes like when they resurface, when they shed their rubber suits and brass helmets and step back into sunlight, warmth, freedom like Persephone returning from the Underworld each spring.

“But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new…”

You wear a sapphire-colored gown that Aemond chose for you, strings of silver around your wrist and throat, diamond teardrops hanging from your ears. Your hair is up, your fingernails painted a tasteful opalescent shade, the aching of your bandaged hand dulled by booze and Vicodin.

“Though I know I’ll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I’ll often stop and think about them

In my life, I love you more.”

More triumphant shouts and applause across the room by the television: Aemond has won Washington state. From his own suite at the St. Regis Hotel a few blocks south on 5th Avenue, Nixon’s people must be celebrating that he just secured Ohio’s 26 electoral votes. He needs 270 to be the next president of the United States.

Florida, you think. If Nixon can take Florida, I think he’ll win the whole thing.

As Aemond and Otto are distracted, as Fosco and Ludwika watch with pitying, knowing eyes, Aegon sets his guitar aside and walks by you with his rum in hand, taps your shoulder, disappears onto the balcony. You wait a few minutes—Cosmo wins Battleship and goes to color on the floor with Helaena—and then follow Aegon.

Outside the night sky is moonless, starless, thick with clouds. Rain is beginning to fall, soft hushed pattering. Far below taxis and limousines are still rushing and blowing their horns on West 59th Street. You can see the vast forested shadow of Central Park and streetlights like constellations. In apartments and office buildings, windows are illuminated as Americans sit numbing their fears with beer, wine, shots of liquor, smoldering hand-rolled joints.

Aegon is cross-legged at the ledge, one hand on the iron bars of the railing, staring out at the nightscape of Manhattan. His hair lashes in the cold November wind. His nose is pink, his eyes wet and faraway. He passes his Lucky Strike cigarette to you as you join him and says: “I don’t think Aemond can win without Florida.”

“No,” you agree, taking a drag.

Aegon snatches a rattling orange bottle from the pocket of his olive green army jacket, pops it open, and swallows three pills with a swig of straight rum, dark amber poison.

“Don’t do that,” you say, you plead.

“I need it, babe.”

“I want you to still be alive in ten years.”

Aegon smiles and reaches over to pat your cheek twice. “I think that ship might have sailed, little Io.” Can decades of self-destruction be undone, uninflicted, nullified like Heracles becoming immortal? Can the Underworld be escaped? “Come with me. No matter what happens tonight.”

“Aegon, I can’t.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“If I leave, he’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt me worse.”

“It’s not fair,” Aegon says, his voice breaking.

“Nothing is.”

There is an uproar inside the hotel room, screams that could be horror or triumph, realized dreams, breaking bones, bullets through flesh. You and Aegon are on your feet, hauling the balcony door open, stepping through the threshold into the rest of your lives.

Glasses are being toasted until champagne rains down onto the carpet. The telephone is ringing so Nixon can concede. On CBS News, Walter Cronkite is reporting that Aemond has won Florida and thereby accumulated 270 electoral votes. The blue text on the screen reads: Senator Targaryen will be the 37th president of the United States.

[greenwitchcrafts]

January 2024 Witch guide

Full Moon: January 25th

New moon: January 11th

Sabbats: None

January Wolf Moon

Known as: Bear Moon, Chaste Moon, Cold Moon, Disting Moon, Goose Moon, Moon of Little Winter,  Moon of Strong Cold, Quiet Moon, Snow Moon, Stay at Home Moon, Sun Has Not Strength to Thaw Moon & When Snow Blows Like Spirits In The Wind Moon

Element: Air

Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius

Nature spirits: Brownies & Gnomes

Deities: Freya, Hera, Innana & Saraswati

Animals: Coyote & fox

Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant

Trees: Birch & Hazel

Herbs: Cones, holy thistle &marjoram

Flowers: Crocus & Snowdrop

Scents: Mimosa & musk

Stones: Chrysoprase, garnet, hematite, moonstone, onyx & jet

Colors: Black, blue-violet, grey, silver & white

Energy: Adventurous, ambitious, awareness, beauty, beginning & conceiving; business, career, conserving energy, energy below the surface, organization, political matters, potential, protection, recognition, reputation, reversing spells & spirituality

The name for the January full Moon is believed to have originated from Celtic and Old English roots, which European settlers then brought to the New World.

At one point, gray wolves were among the most widespread land mammals on our planet. According to the Wolf Conversation Center, gray wolves “inhabited most of the available land in the Northern Hemisphere.” Habitat destruction and persecution by humans have reduced their range by about a third worldwide and 90 percent in the lower 48 states.

The wolf’s adaptable nature to survive in a wide range of habitats and ability to prey on the largest mammals living in those regions made it widespread. Basically, if there are enough deer, moose, elk, caribou, bison, and musk ox, wolves can survive. Predation of domestic animals caused friction with European settlers and early Americans who aggressively hunted the wolves.

Werewolf myths can be found in ancient Greek and Roman societies, throughout European history and among some Native American tribes. In modern storytelling the transformation from man to wolf has been closely tied to the full Moon in films like “The Wolf Man” and “American Werewolf In London.”

Howl at the Moon means to waste energy pursuing something unattainable. It’s shorthand for doing something crazy. However, howling is hardly a waste of energy among wolf packs. And they aren’t howling at the Moon. The Moon just happens to be shining during times when wolves most often howl.

A wolf’s howl can be heard miles away. The vocalization helps wolves locate separated members and even communicate between packs marking their territories. One study recorded spontaneous howls and responses happen most often between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

The cry of wolves doesn’t play into the Sioux name for the January full Moon, which is known as “The Time When Wolves Run Together.” Wolves do plenty of running to defend territory that can stretch hundreds of square miles to find enough prey to support the pack.

Other Celebrations

• Hogmanay | January 1st: is the Scots word for the last day of the old year and is synonymous with the celebration of the New Year in the Scottish manner. It is normally followed by further celebration on the morning of New Year's Day (1 January) and, in some cases, 2 January—a Scottish bank holiday. In a few contexts, the word Hogmanay is used more loosely to describe the entire period consisting of the last few days of the old year and the first few days of the new year. For instance, not all events held under the banner of Edinburgh's Hogmanay take place on 31 December.

The origins of Hogmanay are unclear, but it may be derived from Norse and Gaelic observances of the winter solstice. Customs vary throughout Scotland and usually include gift-giving and visiting the homes of friends and neighbours, with particular attention given to the first-foot, the first guest of the new year.

• Compitalia/ Feast of Lades | January 3-5: was an annual festival in honor of the Lares Compitales, household deities of the crossroads, to whom sacrifices were offered at the places where two or more ways met.

Dionysius said that Servius Tullius founded the festival, which he describes as it was celebrated in his time. Dionysius relates that the sacrifices consisted of honey-cakes (Ancient Greek: πέλανοι) presented by the inhabitants of each house; and that the people who assisted as ministering servants at the festival were not free men, but slaves, because the Lares took pleasure in the service of slaves. He further adds that the Compitalia were celebrated a few days after the Saturnalia with great splendor, and that the slaves on this occasion had full liberty to do as they pleased.

During the celebration of the festival, each family placed the statue of the underworld goddess Mania at the door of their house. They also hung up at their doors figures of wool representing men and women, accompanying them with humble requests that the Lares and Mania would be contented with those figures, and spare the people of the house

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

[aphroditelovesu]

.navigation

✿.｡Welcome to my blog! My name is Larissa, but feel free to call me Lari or Lady L, which is how you know me. I'm Brazilian 🇧🇷 and I was born on October 15th. English is not my first language. My pronouns are she/her and I am bisexual 💖💜💙. I am Libra ♎️ and INTP.

⤷♡. If you want to support my work or to just tip me, can you buy me a coffee? ☕️

⤷✿.Here I've gathered all my series, masterlists and some additional things to make them easier to find. Enjoy my blog, dear reader.

© aphroditelovesu, 2022. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost my work without my permission. you are free to use my edits, but I only ask that you credit me.

⤷♡.+ disclaimer: some of my works may have nsfw content in addition to the yandere genre. if you are sensitive to these topics, I recommend not reading.

⤷♡.+ genre: yandere/dark!au.

⤷♡.+ Requests are OPEN. Asks and concepts are open.

⤷♡.+ character ai: aphroditelovesu.

⤷♡.+ Rules and Fandoms List;

⤷♡.+ Emoji Prompt List + Prompts List;

⤷♡.+ Wips; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6; 7; 8;

⤷♡.+ Commissions;

‘‘Love you so bad, love you so bad, mold a pretty lie for you.’‘ ˚˖੭ Fake Love, BTS.

⤷♡.+ BTS; 💜

⤷♡.+ BLACKPINK; 🖤

⤷♡.+ ITZY; 🧡

⤷♡.+ Stray Kids; 💙

➷ EXO: Yandere Baekhyun (Romantic), Yandere Suho (Romantic).

➷ TWICE: Imagine as Classmates.

⤷♡.+ Greek Mythology; ⚡

⤷♡.+ Egyptian Mythology; 𓂀

⤷♡.+ Historical Characters; 📜

➷ The Lost Queen | Yandere!Alexander the Great ❝You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn't understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren't safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won't let you go so easily.❞ The Lost Queen Series Masterlist

⤷♡.+ The Vampire Diaries + The Originals; 🧛

⤷♡.+ House of the Dragon; 🐉

⤷♡.+ Game of Thrones; ❄️

⤷♡.+ The Sandman; ⌛

⤷♡.+ Outlander; 🗿

⤷♡.+ Wednesday; 🎻

⤷♡.+ Brooklyn Nine-Nine; 👮‍♂️

⤷♡.+ Bridgerton; 🐝

⤷♡.+ Shadow and Bone; ☠️

⤷♡.+ Outer Banks; 💰

⤷♡.+ K-Dramas; ❤️

⤷♡.+ Reign; 👑

⤷♡.+ The Tudors; 🗡️

⤷♡.+ Hannibal; 🍽

➷ The Bloody Viscount | Yandere!Anthony Bridgerton ❝You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?❞ Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; ➷ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon | Yandere!ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT ❝You have always been an avid reader and your greatest passion was delving into the pages of "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin. You knew every character, every twist and every detail of the Seven Kingdoms as if they were part of your own life. But what you never imagined is that an unexpected encounter with a mysterious antique book seller would change your life forever.❞ The Shadow of the Golden Dragon Masterlist

⤷♡.+ Percy Jackson; 🌊

⤷♡.+ Harry Potter; 🔮

⤷♡.+ A Court of Thorns and Roses; 🌹

⤷♡.+ A Song of Ice and Fire; 🔥

‘‘We were born to be alone but why we still looking for love?’‘ ˚˖੭ Lovesick Girls, BLACKPINK.

⤷♡.+ Attack on Titan; ⚔️

⤷♡.+ Naruto; 🍥

⤷♡.+ Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir; 🐞

⤷♡.+ One Piece; 👒

⤷♡.+ How To Train Your Dragon; 🐲

⤷♡.+ Death Note; 📓

‘‘Don’t you know that you’re toxic?’’ ˚˖੭ Toxic, Britney Spears.

⤷♡.+ Marvel; ۞

‘‘I wish you would love me again, no, I don't want nobody else.’’ ˚˖੭ Love Me Again, V.

⤷♡.+ Love Letters; 💕

⤷♡.+ Love Letters II; 💕

⤷♡.+ Kinktober 2023; 🎃

➷ A Black Rose | Yandere!Ian Daerier ❝A cruel and narcissistic reaper falls in love with the woman he was supposed to take the life of.❞ Oneshot;

[madame-mortician]

Random Evil Dead Fun Facts!

Because I'm hyperfixated on it :P

Originally, Ash was supposed to lose an eye in Army of Darkness, but this was scrapped.

Currently Evil Dead (2013) has the most fake blood used in a film, with 50,000 gallons being used. This isn't that suprising considering that during the final 10 minutes of the film, it is raining blood non-stop.

Freddy Krueger's glove is in the workshed in Evil Dead 2. This is a reference to how in A Nightmare on Elm Street, Nancy watched The Evil Dead. Ironically, that was a nod to how Wes Craven's "The Hills have Eyes" poster was in The Evil Dead. That in turn was a nod to how in The Hills have Eyes a torn Jaws poster is seen on the walls. Very confusing easter egg.

Ironically, Ash actually does say the correct words during the Necronomicon scene in Army of Darkness, but it's hard to hear due to Bruce Campbell coughing his way through it, which sounds like something Ash would do honestly.

Speaking of that scene in Army of Darkness, it is actually established that Ash isn't good at remembering phrases, shown by the scene in The Evil Dead, where Ash tries to recite a greek quote but fucks it up.

Evil Dead Rise confirms that the original trilogy takes place in the same universe as the remake and Evil Dead Rise. For one, they confirm there are three volumes of the Necronomicon, being the ones seen in Army of Darkness. The first Necronomicon, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, was found by Prof. Knowby and read by Ash and his friends. The second book, Naturom Demonto, is the one Mia found in her family cabin and the final one, also named Naturom Demonto, is the one locked in the bank vault in Evil Dead Rise.

Each deadite in Evil Dead Rise has different eyes referencing the older ones. Ellie has unique silver eyes, Bridget and the neighbours have golden yellow eyes (like in the 2013 film) and Danny has pupilless white eyes (like in the original trilogy.)

The character names in Evil Dead (2013) start with letters that spell the word "DEMON" (David, Eric, Mia, Olivia and Natalie.)

Similarly, the building in Evil Dead Rise, the Monde, is an anagram for Demon as well.

A reocurring theme in the Evil Dead films, is a sister getting possessed and tormenting their sibling. This is shown with Cheryl and her brother Ash, Mia and her brother David, Ellie and her sister Beth and Bridget and her siblings Danny and Kassie.

All the characters in Evil Dead Rise are named after actors from the Evil Dead films, which I elaborate on here.

Originally Army of Darkness was named "Medieval Dead."

The original ending of Army of Darkness showed Ash waking up in a post-apocolyptic future, but it was changed to the more optimistic ending. Despite both Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell preferring the original ending, the redone ending was used to continue the story with Ash VS Evil Dead.

The original ending was also supposed to lead into Evil Dead 4, where Ash would've fought deadites in the future with robots and other futuristic tropes, but because the ending was changed this never happened. Ironically, the same thing happened to Ash VS Evil Dead, when Season 3 ended on a cliffhanger so that the next season could be in the post-apocalyptic future, but this too was cancelled.

The German version of Army of Darkness incorporates both endings. It starts with the deleted ending, where Ash incorrectly takes 7 drops instead of 6, but as he sleeps it cuts to black and says Ash began dreaming over the centuries. Then it cuts to the regular ending where Ash is in the supermarket and is hailed as a hero before cutting back to him waking up in the post-apocalyptic future. Ironically this is my favourite ending, but it's not-canon.

Evil Dead (2013) had a bunch of different endings before settling on the, supposedly, canon one. One ending had Mia simply leave and the film ends, another had her go to leave before being jumped by a demon (like in The Evil Dead's ending), another had her collapse on the road and get rescued only to reveal she was still possessed and another had her go to leave but start floating before she exploded. The canon one is likely the theatrical ending where she simply walks away, and since we never see Mia again we have nothing to confirm or deny this.

The Abomination from Evil Dead (2013) is inspired by the poster of The Evil Dead, which depicts a woman being dragged into a grave. The Abomination even does the same pose when it rises.

Speaking of The Evil Dead posters, the promo images for The Evil Dead, showed Bruce Campbell and Bridget Hoffman being attacked by a skeleton prop, and defending themselves with a chainsaw. Despite being in all the promotional images and being on the literal cover, Bridget Hoffman was not in the film, though it's likely she is supposed to be a stand-in for Linda. She also played a cameo role as a sword fighter in Army of Darkness, and the voice of the Lori doll in Ash VS Evil Dead.

In The Evil Dead originally it was written that the characters would be smoking weed whilst listening to the tapes, perhaps as a way to explain why they would willingly play the tape, and as a way to rationalise the characters dumb decisions for the rest of the film. This however, was scrapped when the actors did smoke weed for the shot, but got too high and became uncontrollable.

The opening shot of The Evil Dead was filmed by Sam Raimi who stood on a boat, whilst Bruce Campbell pushed him along.

One of the demon passages in The Evil Dead translates to "Sam and Rob are the hikers on the road" a reference to the fact that the two hitchhikers at the start of the film are literally Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert.

During The Evil Dead, a cameraman slipped and dropped his camera onto Bruce Campbell's face, which caused several of his teeth to fall out.

Apparently during filming for Evil Dead 2, after one of the slapstick scenes Bruce Campbell heard somebody making funny noises above him and thought they were making fun of his performance, only for it to turn out that guy got electrocuted. I say apparently because even though Campbell said this himself, he could've been kidding.

Originally the idea with Evil Dead (2013) was that it would get a sequel, similar to Evil Dead 2 but with Mia, and then Ash's story would get a sequel with Army of Darkness 2, and then a third sequel would be made that would have Mia and Ash's stories merge and have the two characters meet, explaining the random after-credits scene in 2013. For some reason they never made the sequel to Evil Dead (2013) and the sequel to Army of Darkness was scrapped for Ash VS Evil Dead instead. The 2013 sequel was replaced with Evil Dead Rise, and Bruce Campbell has since retired as Ash in live-action.

In Japan, Army of Darkness is called "Captain Supermarket" probably being in reference to how Ash works in retail.

So far Evil Dead Rise is the only Evil Dead film without Ash's yellow delta, though apparently the chainsaw used by Beth is the same exact colour as the delta, being a double-reference.

Speaking of the delta, Ash's car appears in Evil Dead (2013), sitting abandoned in front of the cabin. It is most likely just an easter egg and has no lore implications.

Mia and David are half-siblings with different fathers. Originally it was intended for Mia to be Ash's daughter, but this was changed by Raimi. Ironically Ash did end up getting a daughter in the TV show.

Speaking of, Mia was supposed to appear in Ash VS Evil Dead, but it’s likely she wouldn’t have fit since her movie and experience was way darker than Ash’s, and she wouldn’t fit the tone.

The canonical reason Evil Dead (2013) is so similar to The Evil Dead is because the Necronomicon can cause history to repeat itself and likely lured the 5 friends to the cabin (which could also explain why some of the randoms are even here). This is why the 5 characters play very similar roles to the original film, Eric is Scotty, Natalie is Linda, Olivia is Shelly, and David is Ash whilst Mia is Cheryl. The reason Mia survives instead of David, and becomes more like Ash in the finale is likely that when David saved Mia, which Ash failed to do with Cheryl, the Necronomicon decided David should die and Mia should take Ash's role instead. It's also possible that David took the role of Annie in the finale, with him helping before being killed last second, but this is a bit of a stretch.

Bruce Campbell has two cameos in Evil Dead Rise. First is his voice being heard on the first tape Danny plays, where he plays a priest yelling “It’s called the Book of the Dead for a reason!” The second is simply the biting noises when Ellie bites Gabriel’s eye out, being Bruce Campbell furiously biting an apple.

Lee Cronin (Writer/Director of Evil Dead Rise) stated that Bruce Campbell’s cameo was intended to actually be Ash Williams himself. His reasoning was that Ash has found himself in the wrong time period a lot, and it would make sense for a time-displaced Ash to try and get rid of the Necronomicon in the past, before shit hits the fan.

Chet Kaminski was invited by Ash to go with them to the cabin. He chose not to come because Cheryl was also going and he didn’t want Ash to find out he was dating his sister as he feared it would end their friendship. This ultimately ended up saving his life.

In the Evil Dead films, the only characters to be possessed after they died were Scotty, Eric, David, Danny and the neighbours (Evil Dead Rise).

Shelly is never mentioned ever again after The Evil Dead. Scotty is mentioned once, in Ash VS Evil Dead.

Whilst shooting the recap scenes in Evil Dead 2, originally it was intended to have The Evil Dead be more closely followed, with Scotty, Cheryl and Shelly being there with Ash and not just Linda. Sam Raimi himself was going to play Scotty, but it was scrapped in favour of it being only Linda. It’s this recap that led to many fans and viewers being confused and assuming Evil Dead 2 was a retcon or remake when it was not. They couldn’t simply use footage from The Evil Dead due to licensing issues.

[calisources]

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒) 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. all quotes and sentences were taken from the movie troy (2004). change locations, names and pronouns as you see fit. mentions of war and politics are included in this post.

 I'll tell you a secret. Something they don't teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. 

Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now.

If they ever tell my story let them say that I walked with giants.

Men rise and fall like the winter wheat, but these names will never die. 

Let them say I lived in the time of Hector, tamer of horses. Let them say I lived in the time of Achilles.

You gave me peace in a lifetime of war.

You're still my enemy in the morning.

You're still my enemy tonight. But even enemies can show respect.

I have endured what no one on earth has endured before. I kissed the hands of the man who killed my son.

I know my country better than the Greeks, I think.

 You are a brave man. I could have your head on a spit in the blink of an eye.

 Do you really think death frightens me now? I watched my eldest son die, watched you drag his body behind your chariot.

Give him back to me. He deserves a proper burial, you know that. Give him to me.

How many cousins have you killed? How many sons and fathers and brothers and husbands? How many, brave Achilles?

I knew your father, he died before his time. But he was lucky not to live long enough to see his son fall.

War is young men dying and old men talking. You know this. Ignore the politics.

My brothers of the sword! I would rather fight beside you than any army of thousands! Let no man forget how menacing we are.

Do you know what's waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It's yours!

 I chose nothing. I was born and this is what I am.

Imagine a king who fights his own battles. Wouldn't that be a sight?

Of all the warlords loved by the gods, I hate him the most.

Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity.

You say you're willing to die for love but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!

Go home, prince. Drink some wine, make love to your wife. Tomorrow, we'll have our war.

Perhaps your brother can comfort them. I hear he's good at charming other men's wives.

You speak of war as if it's a game.

But how many wives wait at Troy's gates for husbands they'll never see again?

If you go to Troy, glory will be yours. 

And the world will remember your name. But if you go to Troy, you will never come back... for your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom. And I shall never see you again.

 They say your mother was an immortal godess. They say you can't be killed.

You have your swords. I have my tricks. We play with the toys the gods give us.

All my life I've lived by a code and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman and defend your country.

Troy is mother to us all. Fight for her!

There are no pacts between lions and men.

Aren't you afraid?

 Everyone dies, whether today or fifty years from now.

If I don't, you'll kill more men.

At night I see their faces. All the men I've killed. They're standing there on the far bank of the river Styx. They're waiting for me. They say, 'Welcome, brother'.

Last time you spoke to me like this, you were 10 years old and you'd just stolen Father's horse. What have you done now?

Do you love me, brother? Will you protect me from any enemy?

Well, then your men did. The sun god will have his vengeance.

His priests are dead, and his acolyte's a captive. i think your god is afraid of me.

Afraid? Apollo is master of the sun, he fears nothing.

I know more about the gods than your priests. I've seen them.

You're royalty, aren't you? Spent years talking down to men.

You must be royalty. What's your name? Even the servants of Apollo have names.

 What do you want here in Troy? You didn't come for the Spartan queen.

Why kill you now, Prince of Troy, with no-one here to see you fall?

You should not have come here tonight.

That's what you said last night?

Last night was a mistake.

I have made many mistakes this week.

Of all the kings of Greece, I respect you most. But in this war you're a servant. And I refuse to be a servant any longer.

Sometimes you need to serve in order to lead. I hope you understand that one day.

Prince Hector, is he as good a warrior as they say?

You come here uninvited. Go back to your ships and go home.

The sun was shining when your wife left you.

She's up there, watching, isn't she? Good. I want her to watch you die.

And I've seen the limits of your mercy and I tell you now, no son of Troy will ever submit to a foreign ruler.

Trojan soldiers died protecting you. Perhaps they deserve more than your pity.

Pearls from the sea of Propontus.

Am I still your captive?

I have heard rumors of your beauty. And for once, the gossip is right.

Soldiers of Troy! You men are warriors! To lead you has been my honor!

Hector fights for his country! Achilles fights only for himself!

You were brave to fight them. You have courage.

To fight back when I'm attacked? A dog has that kind of courage.

It's no insult to say a dead man is dead.

I can't ask anyone to fight for me. I'm no longer queen of Sparta.

You're a princess of Troy now. And my brother needs you tonight.

Menelaus was a brave man. He fought for honor. And every day I was with him, I wanted to walk into the sea and drown.

I almost lost this war because of your little romance.

I want to see him grow tall. I want to see all the girls chasing after him.

Well, of course you do, she's a beautiful woman.

Then I'll make it easy for him to find me. I'll walk right up to him and tell him you're mine.

May the gods keep the wolves in the fields and the women in our beds.

[thrashkink-coven]

hey there, would you mind telling me a bit about Lilith and your practice with her? I’ve been trying to do some research on her modern worship, offerings, and signs, but it can be really difficult to find anything that’s serious when there are so many references to her in pop culture :/

Okay so Lilith is extremely, and I mean extremely complicated.

Contrary to popular belief, “Lucifer” isn’t actually a name, but a title. The name Lucifer means “light bringer” in reference to Venus as she appears in the morning, but any “light bringer” can be considered a Lucifer. Prometheus for example, the man who stole fire from the Gods to give light to humanity, is a Lucifer. And so, there are actually many different entities that have taken the role of a Lucifer throughout history and in various different retellings. Eosphorus is the name of the deity that was revered by the Greeks as Venus, but Lucifer is a title that many different figures have taken on depending on the context.

Why do I bring up Lucifer? Because he and Lilith are very similar in that regard. Our earliest mentions of Lilith throughout history paint her not as an individual but as a species of night demon that frequently takes the form of an owl, she was known to bring crib death and miscarriage.

In the myth, Inanna and the Huluppu tree, a huluppu tree (a type of willow) is planted by the banks of the Euphrates River. The tree is tended and nurtured by the goddess Inanna, who plans to use its wood to craft a throne and a bed for herself. However, as the tree grows, it becomes infested with three troublesome creatures:

A serpent that makes its home at the roots of the tree. (What troublesome serpents have been portrayed in another mythology having to do with magical trees? HMM!)

The Anzu bird (sometimes described as a mythical lion-headed eagle) that builds its nest in the branches.

The Lilitu (a female demon or spirit) that makes her lair in the trunk.

Inanna, distressed by these creatures occupying her tree, calls for help from her brother, the sun god Utu (or Shamash). When Utu does not assist her, she turns to the hero Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh comes to her aid and, with his great strength, drives away the serpent, the Anzu bird, and the Lilitu. He uproots the huluppu tree and uses its wood to craft a throne and a bed for Inanna, fulfilling her original intention. Consider that it is a human, not the God of the sun, who helps Inanna with this problem. Interesting.

The inclusion of these three very specific creatures occupying this important tree tended to by the Goddess of love, to her dismay, are very important. Especially when he consider how Inanna’s visual depictions have been syncretized with Lilith. The idea of a serpent (perhaps a Lucifer) , an Anzu bird (described quite similarly to some depictions of abrahamic angels, specifically those like the cherubim) and a Lilith being “driven away” from this mythical tree are notable, especially because these are all symbols associated with Inanna herself.

Inanna, one of the most complex deities in Mesopotamian mythology, embodies aspects of fertility, love, war, and the underworld. Inanna's association with snakes can be seen in her connection to the underworld and her transformative journeys. In her descent into the underworld, Inanna removes one magical garment as she continues into the deathly realm. Just as the snake sheds its skin, Inanna sheds her power and identity as she descends, only to be reborn and restored.

Inanna is frequently depicted with wings, highlighting her divine nature and authority. The Anzu bird in the Huluppu Tree myth, while initially a source of trouble, also connects to the theme of overcoming chaos, which aligns with Inanna's role as a powerful deity who brings order.

Lilith, often depicted as a demoness, represents untamed feminine power, independence, and sometimes chaos. In later Jewish mythology, she is considered a night demon, but her roots trace back to earlier Mesopotamian beliefs. Her inclusion in Jewish mythology is summed up in the verse Isaiah 34:14: "Wildcats shall meet with hyenas, goat-demons shall call to each other; there too Lilith shall repose, and find a place to rest." (Hm… I wonder WHERE she will find a place to rest? Perhaps in a… magical tree?)

In Jewish mysticism, the feminine side of the tree of life is what creates the potential for evil. Even though it is the lightest, brightest, goodest form of feminine energy, for some reason, every time, disobedience pops up no matter what we do. It is an aspect of the feminine itself.

In the Huluppu Tree myth, Lilith (or a Lilitu) makes her home in the tree that Inanna nurtures. This connection reflects Inanna's association with both nurturing and taming wild, untamed aspects of the feminine. Lilith's presence in the tree also highlights the tension between order and chaos, which Inanna must navigate and control.

So what does this all mean?

Each creature in the tree draw direct parallels to the Goddess of Love herself. These can be interpreted as perversions of her divine nature, that she herself cannot be-rid of on her own. Inanna the Goddess of WAR couldn’t get an owl, a big bird, and a snake out of a tree??? Why? Likewise, why did the divinities refuse to help her? Why did she have to seek out a human specifically, to get those unwelcome guests out of her tree? And if it is so that Inanna just doesn’t really like owls and snakes, why is she represented with them (and generally just hanging out with them) so often?

Lilith, the serpent, and the Anzu bird reflect aspects of the divine mother that she herself cannot even tame. Lilith as the night owl also reflects an aspect of knowledge and wisdom, as owls can see in the dark and hunt strategically. Even though she is portrayed as an enemy of Inanna, Inanna never once can or even tries to harm her. Inanna being the Goddess of fertility, and Lilith being the demon that causes miscarriage, show that they are natural opposites, yet still derived from the same divine source, and never combative towards each other.

Similarly, Lucifer’s first ever depiction was as his role as Venus, the same astrological planet as what is associated with Inanna. In Christianity, Lucifer played the role of the serpent who convinced Eve, another archetype of divine femininity, to eat the forbidden fruit of knowledge. Interestingly enough, Lilith is never actually portrayed eating the fruit. Does she posses a divine knowledge that is inherent to her qualities as a night owl, to the point where she didn’t need to eat the fruit to have the wisdom to disobey Adam? Does she possess a knowledge that is inherent to the divine feminine force from which she was created? Is this because she was created from the divine forces of femininity itself and not derived from man, as Eve was? If this is the case, that even though Eve ate the apple, she did not become a Lilith, that stands to imply that there is an inherent quality about being derived from a human man, that repels or deflects that inherent feminine rebellious quality. Instead, being replaced with the the ability to submit.

Knowledge applied with the associations of night and mystery, create a feminine energy that cannot submit, and this is likely Inanna’s fault herself, as she very notably has a big issue with respecting any authority higher than herself, even death herself (as her big sister)

From a symbolic standpoint this tells us a couple things about Venusian energy in general.

1.) Regardless of how hard it tries to behave, it is inherently chaotic

2.) It has many faces, some of which do not jive with eachother, but even so, they continue to coexist, even if not in the same places

3.) It is a creator and a destroyer.

4.) It has a very rough time with the concept of submission.

Okay YAP fest, what’s the point?

Lilith is a great example of how the dark feminine exists within the light feminine as an inevitability. Lilith is not so much associated with war, the strategic enactment of violence., but rather the inherent unpredictability of femininity. Women both create life and snuff it, women can decide to procreate or to have an abortion. Lamashtu and Lilith respectively were invoked for abortive purposes.

And of course, Lilith’s adoption by feminist spaces as a self actualized protector of individuality and feminine rage also invoke heavy associations with Inanna as the Goddess of war. So in my interpretation, Lilith is that part of Inanna that went a little unchecked for a little too long. That combined with the themes of Lucifer’s liberation, paint a very interesting narrative about how femininity as a divine force shows up in obscure ways, perhaps even negative ways, whilst still being just as divine and inherent. To recognize Lilith as the antithesis of all of these things, is to see her as the unwavering aspect of femininity that cannot be tamed, even by femininity herself. The snake, the reborn, will always cause chaos at the root of the feminine energy. The Anzu bird, the angels, are susceptible to that same corruption. And the Lilith herself will always find a home within that feminine energy, unless of course, she is snuffed by the will of a man who doesn’t respect her. Still, she does not die, just searches for another place to rest.

Wow this was really long. SO. Lilith is the entity that embodies our biggest fears about femininity and the inherent knowledge that women posses. Women know how to create life, and women have the ultimate authority in ending it. To honour Lilith as a Goddess rather than a troublesome demon, is to recognize that even the parts of femininity that femininity herself can’t control are divine in nature. The knowledge that she possesses makes women incapable of submission. And the Gods themselves are aware of this, and do not interfere with her, because she is a Goddess herself carrying out an important function, even if it doesn’t adhere to what they might like. Basically, rebellion is an inevitability to any feminine creature that possesses knowledge. It is unavoidable.

It’s incredibly difficult to find anything about the worship of Lilith because for a long time she wasn’t given her flowers as a divinity. Even Inanna herself tried to get her to fuck off. You can honour her quite similarly to the way Artemis and Athena were worshipped, alongside Inanna or Aphrodite of course. As the dark, mysterious, yet inexplicably wise mother of demons, she is the creative force behind destruction. She’s the aspect that exists in all of these Goddesses, that most of us would rather not think about. She is a woman who cannot be held in captivity, if you tell her to procreate, she will cause miscarriage. If you tell her to obey, she will become even more rebellious. The more you repress her, the stronger she becomes. No matter how oppressed women become, no matter how subservient, so long as they have any connection to the divine feminine, they will have a Lilith inside of them.

Lilith’s representation of a succubus expands upon her associations as a woman who does what women do, (men thought women were sex objects for a long time) but not for the sake of cooperation, but for her own means. Lilith is very much a woman, capable of doing what all women and feminine goddesses can do. She simply chooses not to, similarly to how Artemis simply chooses not to procreate. The element of choice, (hello again, Lucifer) always being an option to women is, from a patriarchal standpoint, really scary for men.

So how do you worship her? Worshipping Lilith, like Lucifer, is technically paradoxical. Lucifer wants us to worship ourselves. If he accepts worship it’s because you’re using him as a metaphor for yourself. Lucifer believes in no man submitting to no God, so he won’t take on the role of the usual “authority”. Lilith is quite similar, to worship her is to worship the wise and rebellious spirit that exists in the feminine- yourself. Self honouring acts honour Lilith, just as they honour Lucifer. It’s important to remember that Lilith isn’t just rebellion for the sake of arguing, she isn’t a contrarian. She is self actualization that just happens to not go with the status quo. She does what she wants, if that pisses you off: cope. She’s not inherently against men or procreation, or even women who are submissive. She is the constant exception. The random variable that always pops up whenever we deal with feminine deities. So for me, I honour her as an extension. of every existing goddess. Within Inanna, there is a Lilith, as there is within Aphrodite, Hera, Artemis, Athena, etc etc.

Wow this was long as fuck but I hope it provided a little bit of insight as to why Lilith is so fucking confusing. Regardless of which contexts you feel are the most true, Lilith, like all deities will continue to evolve with time. Just as the narrative around Medusa has gradually changed into her being a victim instead of a monster, Lilith has shifted from being a demon that just kills babies to the ultimate personification of feminine independence. All of these interpretations are correct in the right context, you just have to figure out which context best applies to you.

OKAY if you actually read this far here’s a flower 🌹

[mrsvalbaker]

Okay but Eddie...

Picked up another job this summer, with the summer carnival coming up, a surprise trip to Disney World, our little town freak has plans for his coffin cutie this summer.

He was to be the pool boy for Loch Nora residents, namely The Cunninghams, and our little batty barbie was pissed about it.

She has every right to be, with Chrissy "Captain of the Cheer Squad" Cunningham, parading around in her high cut bikinis with her perfectly toned body spilling iced tea on her cleavage as Eddie scrubs her pool and mows her manicured lawn.

Was she being a little bratty?

Doesn't she realize Eddie has no interest in Chrissy's cookie cutter body when he has his luscious little witch?

Doesn't she understand he is trying to earn more money for her?

She's clouded by jealousy and rage worthy of a Greek goddess right now.

She made a Chrissy voodoo doll but when that didn't help soothe her anger, she decided to play dirty, she decided to spend more time with Steve "The Hair" Harrington, spending this summer in her black, thong bikini's, the most she wears are obscenely little shorts, Indiana summers are humid and sticky after all.

She and Steve have cold sandwich and firecracker pop picnics in the Hawkins' Cemetary, she makes her homemade orange lemonade that tastes like candy and happens to be Eddie's favorite.

She swims in Lover's Lake in that thong bikini with Steve, having her pretend to drown her.

Eddie can't take it any longer when he hears from Henderson that Steve is having his little succubus over at his mansion for nightly dips in his pool (that Eddie cleaned!) and a private horror summer movie themed marathon.

What if his little moth gets too much of a taste of the good life and doesn't want to return to his trailer and smelly van? What if she likes the security of Harrington's life, what if he can be a better protector?

He would do ANYTHING to prevent that, his little bat made him realize something about himself, Eddie isn't as sweet as he thought, he's actually rather selfish and controlling and while he loves making his Morticia the happiest girl in the morgue, he would rather her stay with him and be unhappy then let her have a chance of happiness with anyone else.

He would maim and possibly kill the guy he has considered his new friend, just to keep her.

He was jumped the Harrington's fence, his parents are vacationing in St. Barts right now while his uncle is on a fishing trip, the difference of their families is astonishing. he opens the back slide door of the mansion and bursts in guns blazing, not literally, but his fists were balled and clad in rings that'd be painful to the face.

He was screaming at the both of them, that they were sorely mistaken if they thought he'd allow them to get away with this that he will rip off Steve's dick and put it down the garbage disposal if he touches his girl, and then he wasn't screaming or making threats anymore, his voice was becoming weak, the thought of her no longer being in his life was too much to bear. He felt sick, his nausea swirling in his guts, he felt clammy and tears were pouring down his sweet face as he fell to his knees and clung to his girl's legs begging her to not leave him, he'll go and rob a bank and case houses to make sure she doesn't go without.

And our little horror bimbo felt so rotten, it went too far. She took it too far, she got lost in a jealous rage and then she did have a lot of fun hanging out with Steve, but just hanging, she doesn't find Steve physically attractive at all, his voice doesn't make her melt, and their hugs were so friendly and not making her heat up like her Eddie Teddie.

And every time she hung out with Steve she felt hollow, missing her Eddie, he is her limb after all, he's her Dr. Frankenstein.

Steve could never be Eddie not even close, he doesn't have that Hershey chocolate kiss gaze, those surprisingly strong arms, that warm embrace when they cuddle, the obsessive looks and touches, his constant worshipping, the smell of his Irish green soap and Brut aftershave and red Marlboro cigarette perfume with the undertone of weed. He smells like smoke and herbs and pine and like the lord of the wood, like her own Cernunnos, and oh how she worships HIM.

She missed playing Dungeons and Dragons with him, missed it ending dirty with him seducing her Witch character, missed him getting excited and nerdy over things, they didnt even go to a concert this summer yet!

She missed her Gomez, her Cernunnos, her daddy.

And she was teary eyed as she apologized profusely and they started eating each others tears and licking each others wounds until they were in a passionate embrace in the middle of Steve's living room and he had to leave his own house to let them make up.

[blueiscoool]

Roman Emperor Caligula's 2,000-Year-Old Garden Unearthed Near the Vatican

The gardens overlooking the Tiber river in Italy once belonged to an infamous Roman emperor.

Construction workers in Italy have discovered a 2,000-year-old garden that once belonged to a Roman emperor.

The travertine walls of the garden overlook the banks of the Tiber, a river that cuts through Rome and sits east of Vatican City. The ruins were unearthed as workers constructed a new overpass at Piazza Pia, according to a translated statement from the Italian Ministry of Culture.

As archaeologists removed debris, they found a lead water pipe with the following inscription: "C(ai) Cæsaris Aug(usti) Germanici." Researchers determined that the engraving referred to Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, better known as Caligula (aka "little boot," a childhood nickname given to him by his father's soldiers).

Based on the inscription, researchers think the garden likely belonged to the infamous Roman emperor. Not only was Caligula known for being a tyrannical and ruthless leader, he was also a sadist who humiliated his senate. Caligula assumed the throne in A.D. 37, and in A.D. 41 the Praetorian Guard — the officials who were supposed to protect him — assassinated the emperor.

This conclusion is supported by a passage in the ancient text "On the Embassy to Gaius," penned by Egyptian philosopher Philo of Alexandria. It describes how Caligula had met with a representative of Jews living in Alexandria, Egypt, at a large garden along the Tiber, according to the statement.

At that time, Jewish Alexandrians and the Greek-Alexandrian population were in a "crisis that had manifested itself with violence, brawls and episodes of religious intolerance." However, Caligula rejected the Jews' requests for religious autonomy, instead siding with the Greeks.

Alessio De Cristofaro, an archaeologist at the Special Superintendency for Archaeology, Fine Art and Landscape, a government agency in Rome, said the find is significant because Piazza Pia is in the same area as the "Horti Agrippinae," the garden of Agrippina the Elder, who was Caligula's mother.

The pipe is also similar to another one, found in the early 1900s, that's inscribed with the name Iulia (Julia) Augusta, the second wife of Augustus and the grandmother of Germanicus. Researchers speculate that the property was inherited by Germanicus and later passed down to his wife, Agrippina the Elder, before going to Caligula.

In addition to the pipe, archaeologists found slabs of Roman-era pottery and terra-cotta figures of mythological scenes that would have decorated rooftops.

By Jennifer Nalewicki.

[world-in-a-nook]

Prediction : the tragedy of Amorpheus

Welcome one and all to my theory crafting around the next HSR planet !

For this, we will use Black Swan's lines about Amphoreus and try to analyse and probably theorize on what Amphoreus' story will be about.

I hope that you pardon my english, it isn't my first language.

I- The story of the planet II-The three paths

I- The story of the planet

A- The state of the planet

First of all, we have all the flags abount an antiquity inspired planet : the name of the achievement, the planet's name and so on.

We also know that the planet is only accessible through "the light from the mirror of the Garden of Recollection" and that Akivilli never reached Amphoreus.

So here is my theory : we are going to use the Graden of Recollection's miror to go back in time to when Amphoreus existed/was in better shape.

The keywords from Black Swan are "reached" and that it "only" possible through the Garden of Recollection. We know that the Garden's task is to gather memories to make sure that the universe is remembered after the Destruction. We also know that their members can "freely traverse between worlds, unconstrained by physical limits." (Data bank ; Factions)

We have seen that with Black Swan and the dreamscape : she can freely go from the dreamscape to reality. So that means that they aren't affected by space. But what if they aren't affected by Time either ? Then, only people unaffected by time from the Garden of Recollection could access Amphoreus, and such Akivilli would have never reached Amphoreus.

This would also explain why the Astral Express would never need fuel after that : it would make it a timeless machine, that goes beyond time and space, a paradox. In a more darker turn of events, it could also be the planet's destruction that fuels the Astral Express.

B- The plot

Since the planet must be either destroyed or in a very catastrophic way. I would imagine the story based on the tragedy : the Astral Express will tell the people of Amphoreus that their planet is destroyed, everyone will try so that it doesn't happen but everything has already happened and it will end up destroyed. This mixed in with a "Fall of Rome" kind of context.

Why am I thinking so ?

First, Rome is known for its political history being a mess.

Rome and Ancient Greece are known for their tragedies. Those have usually prophecies that are trying to be escaped but ended up happening anyway. And by the Astral Express coming from the future, they would be the ideal prophetic role.

The japanese name for Amphoreus is Omphalos. And Delphi's was known to be the center of the world, according to the greeks. Delphi is well known for its oracles.

"Eternal Land" isn't used to be literal. Black Swan is a Memokeeper and as such believes that all "world will eventually perish, but they can live on in another way — through Remembrance." (Databank ; factions). And such, Black Swan would be basically using some dramatic irony (mostly used in tragedies) to mock Amphoreus' people. It is how we view Rome's Fall : there were the signs that Rome would fall, yet nobody could stop it.

The planet's destruction would be a political crisis from the three paths (a word of them ahead) with a stellaron at play. My theory would be that one of the paths would want to exploit the stellaron for power linked with the hybris theme (the theme that men always try to be as powerful as gods but end up punished). We could also link it to Cesar's deification signaled by a comet.

Post Scriptum : If the Astral Express aren't the one announcing the planet's destruction, we could have an apparition of the Omen Vanguards, Terminus' followers (since they "They are dedicated to drawing prophecies from Terminus's obscure words.").

II- The three paths

"Human behavior flows from three main sources : desire, emotion and knowledge" - Plato

Erudition - Mourning Actors- Enigmata

Erudition :

For the fact that Ancient Greece had an immense impact on today's intellectual (look at Dr.Ratio's design).

The Genius Society, Nous' followers, are already known to be quite prideful so it would made sense for the hybris theme.

We don't know Nous' creation and ascension to aeonhood. So we could have Nous' followers in that point in time.

"Knowledge comes at the price of suffering." (Fu Xian voiceline Chat : Third Eye) and so, following my idea, it would be the knowledge that the planet will end up destroyed/dead that makes the Trailblazer and the Astral Express suffer.

We need another path for the trailblazer

Mourning Actors :

Their performances are akin to greek tragedies

Like Nous, we do not know when Aha arose to aeonhood.

Despite doing greek tragedies, their philosophy is closer to Pascal's (“Distraction is the only thing that consoles us for miseries and yet it is itself the greatest of our miseries.” ; replace Distraction with Elation and you have it.). And Pascal also has some quotes about truth. I wouldn't be surprise if we see Mourning Actors get inspiration in Amorpheus.

Enigmata :

Purely out of opposition to Erudition, first and formost.

The romans were well-known to copy the greeks (even in their mythology) yet hate them. So Enigmata being opposite to Nous would fit the bill but also Rome could be replaces with Enigmata : taking history and changing it.

There is the sentence of erasing someone from History known in ancient history and it would fit the Enigmata pretty well.

Enigmata has been hinted through Gallagher in Penacony and Hoyo doesn't show us something just for the sack of it.

Enigmata could be seen as an easy antagonist for the arc. (And if we follow my idea, Nous' followers would be the one creating their demise)

Side note : Beauty is a path that I have seen mentioned in theories and could be (since Aeneas, the founder of Rome, is seen as the son of Aphrodite, goddess of love ). Though I have to say that it wouldn't fit with the idea of "balance" because it doesn't have a counterpoint.

Thank you for reading my messy theory ! Have a wonderful day/night ! (It is 2AM when I finish writing this).

[tylermileslockett]

APOLLO

“Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched lyre, always sings both first and last…And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favor with my song.”  (-Homeric Hymn, translated by H.G. Evelyn white)

APOLLO (uh-PAH-low), God of prophecy, oracles, music, art, protector of and disease of boys and men, and archery. Just as his twin sister Artemis is patron to women and girls, Apollo is both protector, and killer from disease of boys and men. In my Illustration the god holds his bow and arrows behind, while he strums the lyre gifted to him by trickster Hermes. Near the sun flies his ally and divine messenger, a white raven. The column on the right is capped with a cow, representing his sacred animal as a god of herds. The serpent Python sits dead at his feet, killed by Apollo’s arrow so that the god could take over the Delphi temple location. The temple complex sits beneath the god, while on the far right, thePythia (Apollo’s oracle priestess) sits upon a tripod, breathing the hallucinatory gasses seeping up from the earth to get her prophecies which she bestows upon visitors.

The laurel tree has associations with Apollo because the god, chasing a Naiad (water nymph) named Daphne call out to Gaia (mother earth) for help, who transformed the nymph into a laurel tree, which the god adopted as his sacred tree. In book 1 of the Iliad, Apollo supports the Trojans by raining down a plague on the Greeks, and later helping Paris to kill Achilles. Apollo’s cruelty is shown in Ovid’s mythical lyre contest with the inventor of the flute; a satyr named Marsyas. When Apollo suggested they play their instruments upside down, the satyr lost, and was flayed (skinned) alive as punishment for his hubris.

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[saintsenara]

One thing that confuses me about the Dursleys is how they're supposed to be a parody of the British middle class, but isn't Vernon like director/chief of a company? Like, he owns a business and it doesn't seem to be a failing one so wouldn't they be more accurately described as upper class? Maybe it's just me who's dumb but it's something that really confuses me lol

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

the dursleys would never be thought of as upper-class, because that implies a certain aristocratic or gentry connection which they evidently don't have.

the most they could be is upper-middle-class - which is one of those fun british class-brackets which has a very specific "look" in the wider cultural imagination, and which defines itself as something vastly different from being middle-middle-class or lower-middle-class in terms of its vibe.

which is to say, this intra-class division isn't really financial [although that is a factor - just not the only one] so much as it's based in performance. how one changes social class [which is possible, these class divisions aren't immutable] isn't by becoming rich, it's by learning how to perform. mundungus fletcher, for example, could be a billionaire, but the way he presents himself to the world would still read as working-class. the teenage voldemort has nothing in his bank account, but he behaves in a way which is indistinguishable from his posh pureblood friends.

the dursleys' class performance - the way they dress and speak, the way they behave, their attitude towards their possessions [such as vernon's pride in his car], the places they want to go on holiday - indicates a bang-in-the-middle vibe, simultaneously aspirational to someone like petunia [who grew up below it] and hilariously unimpressive to someone like james potter [who grew up above it].

the best illustration of this is to compare them to the grangers, who are clearly upper-middle-class. the financial difference is negligible - vernon, as a company director, could feasibly be on a salary which was in the same ballpark [or which potentially even exceeded] what a dentist who only or mainly took private clients [which is the case for many dentists in the uk] could expect to earn - but their performance of class is totally different.

the grangers go skiing and spend their summers in the south of france; the dursleys' ideal holiday destination is majorca - which, while this is very unfair to a lovely bit of spain and the lovely people who live there, is used by jkr because it has that sort of middle-tier association in the british cultural imagination [posher than going to the costa del sol, rougher than staying in a converted farmhouse in cantabria]. the grangers name their daughter "hermione" - which, whether they get it from greek or from shakespeare, is a statement of their class performance - while the dursleys name their son "dudley" - which is the same.

and - of course - the grangers are dentists, which means they went to university. vernon makes drills - but is not an actual builder; which, while a blue collar job which would be understood as working-class, is also understood as something authentic - and clearly did not.

the interesting thing about the dursleys' class-status, though, is that vernon seems to have gone down from a childhood which was upper-middle-class. not in the same way as the grangers - apparently city-based, europhile, undoubtedly voted for tony blair in 1997 - are upper-middle-class, but in a way specifically associated with posh people who live in the country - whose poshness is considered to be more parochial and more politically conservative.

marge dursley - with her tweed and her bulldogs and her brusque manners - is a perfect stereotypical example of this. so too is smeltings, the fee-paying boarding school which both vernon and dudley attend - it wouldn't be unusual within the dursleys' class-bracket for dudley to be privately educated, but it is unusual for this to be at a school with the vibe that smeltings [whose uniform, for example, is so obviously based on that of schools like eton and harrow] has.

it's really interesting to think about why vernon might have ended up shuffling down to the middle of the middle, especially because there are plenty of careers for a man from that country-posh bracket which would retain his class-status without requiring a university education - above all, going into the army. that he doesn't do this - that he becomes a managing director, a job which has financial but not cultural cachet as an upper-middle-class signifier [if you care about these things - which i do not] - has a certain degree of deliberate choice behind it.

and this provides a fascinating comparison with petunia - who was clearly raised working-class and has ascended into the middle through performance, and who then becomes desperate to retain her status by continuing to perform "correctly". vernon also lives behind a mask, which also depends on the correct performance of a class-bracket which he wasn't born into, even if his class journey is one of descent.

vernon and petunia's fear of magic relates to this - they're both terrified that the neighbours will learn, if they discover the existence of magic, that they're not as bang-in-the-middle normal as they claim to be.

and this is fundamentally because magic is something eccentric and strange. and eccentricity [especially in dress and manners - the thing that vernon hates about wizards] is read as either a sign that someone is very posh or a sign that they are very much not.

but not as something in between.

[lovelywetdreamer]

Hi, how are you?

Could you write something about Dick Grayson with a university reader please, how would he be with his university girlfriend, age gap but everything totally legal please

Gotcha and thanks you for giving me a chance to write about my favorite robin.

Dick Grayson is 29 while reader is 21 years old.

💙Dick will carry your lifeless body after you finally get done meeting all your deadlines for university.

💙Dick will make it his mission to wake up before you. He want to make you breakfast in bed with all your favorite such as greek yogurt with fresh strawberry, homemade egg Macmuffin sandwich, and a fresh squeeze orange juice.

💙Dick don't mind when you have to cancel date night because you got homework stacking up on one another. He cancel dates on you in the past due to Harley and Joker robbing a bank. Dick actually help and tutor you for your upcoming psychological exam.

💙Dick will buy all your favorite study snacks and play your guys playlist. You don't have to ask the guy to give you a shoulder massage. He was raised by one the world greatest detective, so it would be an understatement that he couldn't tell when are about to explode from school. He will massage the stress from your shoulders and let you rest for a hour.

💙When you finally passed your first semester of college, Dick cleans his apartment for you. No Alfred to help him. He asked Cyborg to hookup your favorite international shows. Dick actually asked a lot of favor to give you the perfect day to finally rest from college. Beastboy turns into a cat and rest on your lap. Dick knows cat usually calm you down. Raven and Starfire fly you around the city. A guy named after two birds, and he can't fly at all. That is just irony at it finesse.

💙Dick will pour you a cup of wine and massage your body when his team leave his apartment. The boy even saved the last piece of pizza. His girl finally survived the first round of college.

💙He lets you sleep late on his chest. It been ways too long since he can holds you. He was thinking about going to college. You inspired him to get his degree in business.