The town of Arsameia was decorated with very large stela, all facing south and which probably could be seen from the villages in the valley; this could explain why they were not part of the decoration of buildings or squares. The most important stela has survived to our times; its importance is testified to by the fact that Mithridates I or his son Antiochus I, the kings who are thought to have founded/enlarged the town, dictated a very lengthy inscription on a nearby rock.
The inscription is placed on a rock above a tunnel which probably was used as an escape from the town or for sallies; the inscription is in Greek and it provides a detailed account of the history of the town and its facilities. The relief portrays a meeting between King Mithridates and Hercules; consistent with the Greek iconography of gods and demigods Hercules is naked and he carries a club and a lion’s skin. Handshaking is unusual in Greek iconography, but it is found in the Persian one.
he dress and the arms of the king are very elaborate and they are depicted very accurately; the king wears a crown (atypical of Greece), but also a wreath of leaves, another indication of Commagene being in between two worlds. A question comes to mind; were his trousers (long pants) practical to wear?
its so embarrassing that this – an inside joke with myself – has piqued public interest
he did exist, but the joke is that he’s literally almost impossible to track down in the archaeological record, and he’s extremely scarce in the historical record to boot. an historical cryptid, basically, as @fellowshipofthegay said.
in fact, there’s only one piece of hard material evidence that hephaestion was… real. we conclusively know it is hephaestion because it’s a votive from his hero cult at pella, and it’s inscribed with Ἡφαιστίωνι ἥρωι – to the hero/heroized hephaestion. there’s only one heroized hephaestion.
this is the votive; you can kind of make out the inscription on the bottom:
this is the problem: we only know this is hephaestion because he’s labeled. no other depictions of hephaestion that you see around are actually 100% confirmed to be hephaestion. why aren’t they confirmed to be hephaestion?
look closely. what about that guy is distinctive?
yeah. absolutely nothing.
that’s why we can’t confirm with 100% surety that any other depiction thought to be him is actually him. his reliefs and statues show absolutely no physical traits that distinguish him from any other idealized, generalized ephebe.
so what’s this mean? it means that the people who made these depictions probably never saw him. same goes for any other depictions we think are of him that were made during his lifetime – it’s really doubtful that any sculptor actually knew what hephaestion looked like. otherwise he’d… look like a person. not a blank canvas.
which would be chill and normal if, you know, he wasn’t literally second man in the biggest empire in the known world, and wasn’t given a hero cult that spanned from ecbatana to alexandria to athens to pella and back. so why did no one see him? why didn’t anyone know what the chiliarch looked like?
it might be something coincidental, like he was busy. it might be something nefarious. we’ll never know for sure.
in any case, the fact that nobody knew what he looked like and the fact of his generalized face is problematic in scholarship. out of all the contextless, idealized heads of ephebes that we have, the fact that we don’t know what he looked like means that any of the portraits that we think are him might not be. there was a pretty recent argument that the prado head isn’t hephaestion at all, in fact. conversely, any of the generalized portraits we have could be him, and we’re just not aware.
Wadjet, a powerful and protective deity, and a fascinating icon.
While researching her, I came across information that she was sometimes depicted as a woman with a snake or two snakes for a head, but I can’t seem to find any images of statues or reliefs with this. I’d be curious to see one, but outside of searching her name, searching the location of her temple, and her Greek name, I can’t find anything but modern depictions of as much.
A large bronze statue of a reclining doe, legs tucked under the body, head held up and with ears back; hole to the back for attachment of separate statue. 16.7 kg, 49cm (19 ¼").
The statue may have been a decorative piece for the garden of a villa, as is seen in similar examples from Pompeii, Herculaneum and the surrounding area of Vesuvius. The doe was also sacred to both Diana, goddess of the moon; statues of the goddess accompanied by deer were common, and they were also shown accompanying the cult image of Diana from the temple at Ephesus. The deer was also sacred to Juno Caelestis, consort to the eastern deity Jupiter Dolichenus, and she is shown standing on the back of a deer on votive reliefs and statues, such as that from Corbridge on Hadrian’s Wall.
(I will start by saying that I spent an hour on writing this prompt and then my internet crashed before it could post. My kinks, my puns, my jams. Gone. Enjoy anyway.)
“It’s called what?” “Agalmatophilia. Just something I’ve researched and realised I was interested in.” Jin explains. You smile at him reassuringly, though you don’t know what it means. “So, what would you like me to do?” He breathes a sigh of relief. “You know the statue in the original Blood Sweat and Tears? I want you to bring that in for me. Something about carved marble just really gets me going.” “That’s such a coincidence because my legs get me going.” You run as fast as you can away from him, and though Jin is upset he knows the pain won’t last forever. Statues can’t run away.
“I completely support any decisions you make regarding the way you present your gender, but I do have some questions.” You say, as you walk in on Yoongi wearing a wig and your old school uniform. “You’re a beautiful (gender) Y/N,” Yoongi begins, flicking his hair, “And I’m a beautiful man. But I’m also a sexy woman. You can feel free to leave at any time. All I need is myself, my autogynephilia, and this full length mirror.” “This is a kinkshame, not a kinksame Min Yoongi!” Whatever hater. He loves himself.
You’re sitting together at an out side table at a busy cafe, both enjoying the warm morning. “Ah Y/N, I love the sunlight.” “Yeah, me too Hobi.” “No I mean,” he tilts his head back, exposing himself further to the sun’s bright rays. “I really, really love the sun.” He begins to moan, attracting the attention of the customers around you. Embarrassed, you lean forward to ask him to stop, but he cuts you off by jumping onto the table. “I HAVE ACTIRASTY AND I LOVE THE SUN!” “J-Hope that’s actinasty!” You cry, and run away from him, away into the darkness. You live the rest of your life in the shadows. J-Hope becomes the sun.
It’s a normal night, the two of you cuddling together on the lounge watching television. The show you’re currently immersed in cuts to an ad break, and Namjoon mutes the television, moving to look you in the eyes. “Y/N, we’ve been together for long enough now that we should be able to communicate and trust each other. I want you to know that I would never push you outside of your comfort zone or ask you to do something you don’t want to do, but tonight I was wondering if maybe…” “I will not call you daddy, I will never call you daddy, I refuse to refer to any part of your mind, body, or soul daddy.” “Oh. Okay then.” But you can see the confused squint in his eyes and continue. “BUDDY, CALLING PEOPLE DADDY IS GROSS.” He feels caught out. He realises now that he will have to call himself daddy. He will still enjoy it.
“Jimin, why are we outside so early? I’m freezing!” He breathes in deeply, fog swirling around his head. “This is the good stuff Y/N. I love this choking feeling.” You cough awkwardly. “Jimin that’s really messed up.” He chokes back tears, and fog, and still looks good doing it. “I have nebulophilia! I thought you would be supportive of me.” You shakes your head, teeth chattering. “It’s cold as tits Jimin, come back inside when you’ve repented your kinks.” But he would not repent. He would tongue the fog.
“But what’s wrong with an ear fetish Y/N?” You bring up your hands to hide your ears, conscious of his hungry gaze. “So many things Tae. Almost everything.” He flushes red, and leaves you to find easier lobes to nibble.
“Well, do you like it?” Jungkook smirks, showing off his rabbit costume. “To be honest, when you said you were going to wear something sexy this is not what I had in mind. Are you a furry?” he gasps, shocked. “It’s called autoplushophilia and it’s perfectly normal!” “No, Jungkook…it’s really not.” He turns away, tail bouncing. “Call me Bunkook… or don’t call me at all.” it’s the worst kind of break up. It was necessary.
I hope you're doing good! I was struck last night by an idea and I wonder what you'll make with it ^^ Zan Arbor has captured Obi-Wan (13ish) and in her line of force experiment she wishes to see what a force sensitive pregnancy is like with both parents being force sensitive. So unknown to Obi and Qui-Gon, the former is pregnant when rescued. 9 months later on a mission Qui has to help an in denial pregnant Obi to give birth. Bonus point the baby is Anakin and Obi is of an hermaphrodite specie?
About the prompt I sent for Obi-Wan gets pregant by Zan Arbor design, I
realised it might need a bit more infos if you decide to do it. First
of, there is no sexual encounter for young Obi-Wan, it’s all medical
(that scientist is a bitch) so since he has no idea what was done to him
he’s in pregnancy denial, I figure since the body doesn’t show any
change it’s highly possible the foetus Force presence is hidden in a
way. Otherwise Qui-Qon would have known immediatly.
its alright Obi-Wan, shhh.” Qui-Gon continued to quietly assure,
carrying the squirming fifteen year old. “I know you’re aching
but we’ll be out of here soon.” He promised the other. Four weeks
of capture at the hands of Jenna Zan Abor had left its marks on the
teen and Qui-Gon only wanted to get him away from the station and
labs where she had tortured him.
Inwardly he was
resisting the urge to growl outloud as the light and nude body in his
arms radiated discomfort and pain, Qui-Gon’s robe wrapped around
the others frame.
Obi-Wan rasped out, his second word since Qui-Gon had found him with
the first having been an utterly relieved ‘Master’ when Qui-Gon
had been the one to open the cell that contained Obi-Wan’s
immobilized body in a stasis field.
The comm on
Qui-Gon’s belt crackled before he could respond and he stopped in
the hall, shifting his arms a bit until he could pull the comm up and
the station and locked it down. You shouldn’t encounter any trouble
Qui-Gon on the way to the ship.” Micah offered cheerfully though
Qui-Gon could hear a note of discomfort in the mans voice.
“Good. Zan Abor
cleaned the hard drive, no information on her experiments but I found
Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon answered back.
Quietly he could
hear Micah’s sigh of relief.
That made Qui-Gon
hesitate before looking at his dehydrated and sore looking padawan.
“…Minor injuries from what I can access, we can look deeper into
it once on the ship.”
tenseness was back in Micah’s voice.
was fond of Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon knew that.
As was Tahl come
to think of it.
He wished he had
her with him, Obi-Wan could have used her healing skills.
“How do you feel
Padawan Kenobi?” Mace voice was calm but it bordered on gentle as
Obi-Wan peered at them from Qui-Gon’s side.
with what to say before he seemed to settle on something. “Terrible.
But I’m recovering masters.”
stapled his fingers together, watching him. “What do you remember
of your capture and the time after? Your master has indicated that
for most of your confinement, you were drugged and that your memories
are hazy at best?”
Giving a slow nod,
Obi-Wan settled his hands into his robes to hide the shaking. “As
we know from privious encounters, she has done experiments and
observation on Force sensitive beings. As she had less luck in
containing a master, she figured a younger…prisoner would be easier
to contain.” Obi-Wan shifted and took a deep breath, trying to
release his discomfort into the Force. “And she had a particular
thrill out of the fact that I was Master’s padawan. She carries a
grudge it seems.” He smiled meekly.
“You are not a
weak Padawan Kenobi, so may I ask how she captured you?” Plo
down then quickly up. “I got sloppy. I was about to transmit my
location to master when I sensed others closing in on my position.
Instead of finishing my transmission I decided to investigate what
was coming towards me. It…was my own fault I got captured.”
Obi-Wan’s voice was barely louder then a whisper, blaming himself.
Qui-Gon was going
to need to talk to him later about that, once they were out of the
ears of the council.
“Who found you?”
Plo questioned again.
hired by Zan Abor. She had specific instructions. Older Jedi’s were
to be…taken care of. Anyone with a braid were to be taken alive. I
don’t remember what she did to me Masters, my last clear memory is
from when she placed the Force suppressing collar around my neck and
injected me with the first dose of drugs. After that I have…fuzzy
There was some
shifting among the council, quiet murmurs between each other as
Qui-Gon watched everything.
“…I think I
was on an operating table at one point?” Obi-Wan offered after a
few moments, voice barely louder then a whisper.
the healers found?” Yoda spoke up finally, hands on his cane and
Qui-Gon shook his head. “Nothing lasting, they healed what they
could, what my padawan needs now is rest and relaxation, food and as
much water as he can handle.” He gave the teen a small smile.
Obi-Wan gave a
brittle one back.
They were allowed
to leave after that since Obi-Wan had no information that could be
useful after his capture.
Thus started his
“Its odd, he
sleeps more then usual.” Qui-Gon stuffed cheese into the bread
roll. “But other then that he doesn’t seem different except for
wary at noises.”
“Its to be
expected Qui-Gon, he’s still healing you know that.” Tahl soothed
at the man. “People cope differently and your talk to him about how
his capture wasn’t his fault alone helped.” She smiled at him and
gave him a pat on the arm. “At least he’s no longer in Abor’s
“If she ever
comes close to him again…” Qui-Gon grunted before sighing and
looking at his friend. “Tell me, do you think I should tell him to
go to the Healers?”
suggest him but right now I don’t think we should push him. If he
gets sick then its different but he seems fine right now, sleep is
not the worst thing I could see him doing.” She chuckled softly.
“Just feed him, get some meat on his bones, make sure he drinks tea
and water and does his sparrings, I have faith in him.” She smiled.
“Good thing that
this is my idea of feeding him huh?” Qui-Gon nodded down at the
plate of breadrolls with various filling, chuckling.
She agreed with a
something’s wrong with me Master.” Obi-Wan swallowed heavily,
tucking himself against the wall of the barn they had taken refuge
in. They could still hear the faint noise of bombs falling as the
government tore each other apart over the stupidest of reasons in the
eyes of the Jedi.
Qui-Gon turned to his pale looking padawan who was curling in on
himself, taking one last glance at the world outside before moving to
the teenager. “What’s wrong?”
and back hurts, its been hurting all day… an-and my ankles are
hurting and I just…I don’t know.” He took a sharp breath as
Qui-Gon knelt down in front of his padawan.
your legs Obi-Wan and let me have a look, you may have pulled your
musc-” Whatever he was about to say got lost when Obi-Wan, who had
been in the process of uncurling, suddenly squeaked and pulled his
legs tight to his chest with wide, horrified eyes.
Qui-Gon went, urgent and perhaps a bit sternly, resting his large
hands on the skinny knees. “Wha-” He looked down as wetness
coated his knee and stared at the puddle that had formed around
pulled Obi-Wan’s legs down and placed a hand to the chubby
midsection that was Obi-Wan’s stomach, dread curling in his stomach
as he closed around what he thought had been fat the other finally
had gained throughout the last months after his capture at Abor’s.
Under his hand the
mass moved and both stared at each other, Obi-Wan’s eyes filling
going into labor.”
In a barn, far
from help and in the middle of a planetary war, Obi-Wan burst into
Novice Wardens Explore the Deep Roads The Warden & Alistair’s First Kiss
Pre Relationship, Lymeria and Alistair have been traveling the Deep Roads for weeks trying to find Bronka.
Pairing: Alistair x Warden Rating: SFW Words: 1035
They have been sitting in relative silence for a while. The others had gone to bed a while back, but Alistair and Lymeria stayed awake. She volunteered for first watch, but he seemed to refuse to take his turn to sleep. Instead, he sat across the fire from her, his sandy hair shining brilliantly in the fire light. She steals glances often, careful not to stare. He is just too handsome and it is becoming far more difficult to hide the feelings she’s developed since the first day she met him in Ostagar.
“We’ve been down here for weeks, I’m starting to forget what the sky looks like,” Alistair says. He pushes the tip of his sword through the dirt while he pouts, idly drawing little shapes and lines before kicking his heel through it and starting over again. He’s adorable when he pouts, she thinks.
“I don’t know, it’s not so bad,” she says. “I kind of like it down here.” Lymeria quirks a smile and tosses a pebble across the fire, hitting him in the shoulder. She giggles when he jerks and whines a feigned little hey before connecting his gaze with hers. His pout is quickly replaced with a grin as he rubs his shoulder. Feeling a flush threatening to invade her pale skin, she distracts herself from the spark she sees in his hazel eyes. Pointing at his sword she winks and says, “You’ll dull your blade if you don’t quit that.”
“But it’s so boring down here, I don’t know what else to do.” He dramatically pops out his lower lip and she cannot help but think of what it would be like to kiss it.
Hiding her embarrassment, she flits her eyes away. “How can you be bored when you are surrounded by all this history?” She gestures to the large ruins of columns, statues, and reliefs around them. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and I doubt you have either. You don’t have that much seniority over me in your Grey Warden-ness.” She sticks out her tongue and scrunches her face, quickly rewarded with a rich laugh from the sandy haired man. “These are ancient and long abandoned roads. It’s fascinating!”
Alistair rolls his eyes in jest. “Right, Lymeria. Sure. If you find things-hiding-around-every-corner-waiting-to-eat-you as fascinating.”
She sighs and shakes her head at the handsome whiner. “Well, that’s the Warden, spirit! That’s some victory, vigilance, and sacrifice, right there!” she says. “Listen, I grew up stuck in a Highever. I never thought I’d be a Grey Warden on an expedition in the Deep Roads. I only dreamt of adventures like this! Try to appreciate the magnitude of what we’re doing, and maybe you won’t be so bored.”
She reaches into her bag, grabs two pieces of dried meat, and tosses one over the fire to Alistair. He catches it and begins to gnaw while looking around at the enormous walls surrounding their little camp.
“Besides,” she says through her own chewing, “You better get used to this scenery. Once the blight is over, we’ll be down here a lot more, don’t you think?”
“I suppose you’re right… I do wonder how the ancient dwarves managed to build such halls…” he says thoughtfully. “Why do you think they made the ceilings so high…when they’re so…”
“Eh! No short jokes. I can hear every word yer sayin’ ya dirty nug lovers,” Oghren’s voice calls out in a raspy slur from behind some fallen rubble.
Lymeria giggles and Alistair grins, side-glancing in the dwarf’s direction. “I thought he was passed-out drunk,” he whispers.
She shrugs her shoulders and stands, feeling brazen and empowered for some reason, and walks around the fire to sit beside him. She revels in how big his eyes get while he watches her approach, and how lax his jaw becomes when she plops down close enough that their thighs touch.
“I guess we need to speak softer, huh?” she whispers in his ear. She watches with satisfaction as his Adam’s apple bobs with a quick swallow. It’s charming how flustered he still gets around her after weeks of travel, fighting, and flirting. “Or, since you’re bored,” she continues with a silky voice, “I can think of a couple things we could do to pass the time that require no words at all.”
He swallows again, a light sheen appears on his brow, and his muscles stiffen. There is a slight crack to his voice as he asks, “Oh? Like what?”
She grins and twists her body, popping her hands in the air. “Shadow puppets!” she cheers. They both laugh softly and watch as she forms a monster with her hands that towers on the wall behind them.
Alistair adjusts his posture to join in, creating a gallant figure to battle hers. “For the Grey Wardens!” he whispers excitedly and charges his figure toward hers.
They quietly snicker while making their shadows fight through the flickering amber glow of the fire. And clearly defeated by his champion prowess, Lymeria’s monster dies and withers dramatically down the wall. She grins and mimes a tip of her cap to her victor while Alistair smiles that beautiful smile of his while puffing out his chest victoriously.
“There’s also this,” she whispers and leaning forward, she quickly presses a soft kiss to his lips. She feels him push back against her and a tiny sigh moans in his throat. As she pulls away, he leans forward a little, a drunken, hooded smile following on his face.
“Oh. I. Um. I like that idea better,” he says wistfully. His hand rises to cup her cheek and draw her back to him. With their lips sweetly kissing and grazing each other, a shimmer cascades over Lymeria’s skin. Her heart skips and trips over itself with unadulterated excitement.
Pulling from him once again, she coyly bats her lashes. “See, Alistair, the Deep Roads aren’t so bad.”
He smiles and it’s bewitching. The way the firelight dances in his eyes when he looks at her takes her breath away. “You’re completely right, Lymeria,” he says in a heated whisper. “I think I may grow to love the Deep Roads.” And he takes her lips again.
MORTUARY TEMPLE OF HATSHEPSUT, Deir-el-Bahri, Egypt, 18th Dynasty
Hatshepsut’s temple rises from the valley floor in three colonnaded terraces connected by ramps on the central axis. The complex and all of the statues and reliefs it contains constitutes the first great tribute to a woman’s achievements in the history of art. In the middle colonnade of the second level, for example, painted limestone reliefs commemorated Hatshepsut’s divine birth. She claimed to be the daughter of Amen, who had assumed the form of the pharaoh Thutmose I in order to impregnate her mother, the king’s principal wife.
On this day, 2055 years ago, Augustus married Livia Drusilla Sources agree that he fell in love with her instantly and she attained unprecedented status ruling alongside him. Livia was instrumental in promoting Augustus’s moral reforms and statues/reliefs depicting Livia and Augustus as deities/personified virtues of Augustus’s Rome are prominent in Augustan propaganda. Livia and Augustus presented their harmonious marriage and the imperial household as an ideal for the citizens of Rome to emulate.
Suetonius says that Augustus and Livia “fell in love instantly”, that he “loved and esteemed her to the end without a rival” and that Augustus’s last words were for Livia to remember their marriage forever (he died “amidst the kisses of Livia”- in Livia’s arms)
Other Augustus and Livia anecdotes, in no particular order: • Livia ranked among Augustus’s chief advisors though she also controlled business interests, properties, and clients of her own. • In fact, Ovid commented that Livia was so busy and involved in state affairs that she barely had time to put her makeup on • Livia dedicated a temple to Concordia in honor of her marriage with Augustus • Augustus had to get special permission from the senate to marry Livia as soon as he did, waiving the traditional 10-month waiting period • Roman wives traditionally didn’t go on military campaigns with their husbands, but Livia went with Augustus to Spain and Gaul in 27-26 BC and on many of his other travels. As was often the case, Augustus was sick for at least a year during this expedition - luckily, Livia was present to take devoted care of him. • Augustus had a frail constitution and supposedly Livia cared for him through his various ailments with teas and herbal medicines • Livia’s influence over Augustus and their rushed, almost scandalous marriage was recognized by the senate who were skeptical at the idea of Augustus urging them to ‘guide and command their wives’ • In his will, Augustus granted Livia the title of Augusta, adopting her formally into his family, giving her his own rank, and allowing her to maintain status and power • Augustus, in his conversations with Livia, always read from notecards, “for fear of saying too much or too little if he spoke offhand” • Augustus married Livia when he was young, and they never had any biological children. Despite the fact Augustus needed an heir, he defied Roman custom by remaining married to her for 51 years (until his death) • Augustus wrote to Livia often when they were apart, referring to her as “My Dear Livia” • Livia kept and meticulously organized all the letters Augustus sent to her- In an argument with Tiberius after Augustus’s death, Livia pulled out letters Augustus had written her over 10 years ago where he’d complained about Tiberius. • Even in the smallest ways, Livia worked to continue Augustus’s legacy after his death, for example: Providing aid and encouragement directly to the people and soldiers fighting a fire that had occurred at the temple of Vesta, “as had been [Augustus’s] way when he was alive”
At the core of Egyptian religion is the concept that divine powers take various forms - ḫprw - manifestations. Characteristically this is expressed as a form of inhabitation. The ritual in the temple invokes the deity to inhabit his image. Explicit statements of this inhabitation are few but very clear. However this is the context of the core ritual of the Opening of the Mouth: to vivify a god’s images, by in effect calling on him to inhabit, to manifest himself, in his statues and temple reliefs; at invocation he flies down and inhabits his temple reliefs. The same ritual invokes the dead in his tomb, but also crucially reintegrates the dead as part of his funeral, invoking his reinhabitation of his body. Ritual, cult and prayer invoke the presence of the spirit world, in ways that do not differ greatly in their techniques. The core ritual of Opening the Mouth is to be understood as this invocation of a god, but also in a tomb context invocation of the dead, to become manifest in statue or relief, to accept offerings and interact with the living.
Christopher J. Eyre, “Belief and the Dead in Pharaonic Egypt” in Rethinking Ghosts in World Religions (2009)
Other interpretations of her story focus on Persephone as one aspect of
the Triple-goddess, a powerful feminine archetype where maiden, mother
and crone are seen as one. While the three parts of this trinity are
sometimes seen as Demeter, Kore and Persephone, many modern authors
focus on Demeter and Persephone’s relationship with the moon-goddess,
Hecate. In the Hymn to Demeter, Hecate is the only one, besides the
sun-god, Helios, to hear Persephone’s cries during her abduction. When
Persephone returns from the Underworld, Hecate vows to serve her as her
“chief attendant.” Some scholars, such as Patricia Monaghan, even go so
far as to explain that: “The Greek world was divided into three parts,
in honor of the Threefold goddess,” with Hecate wandering the sky,
Demeter ruling the surface of the earth, and Persephone ruling the world
of the afterlife