#i was the sargon! hi.

[deepdrownlamentt]

can i please rq braiding passenger's hair ..... handsome unhinged bird UwU

↬ braiding passenger's hair

content warnings: none

note: love this guy ... wish he didn't come home instead of the phantom pot i wanted but love him anyway....... i wanted to do a little drabble instead of hcs this time. i hope you enjoy !! (*ˊᗜˋ*)♡

golden strands slip through your fingers like water, and PASSENGER barely lets out a hum at the feeling. his gaze leaves whatever dossier in his hands to glace slantwise at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiles, ever so slightly.

"a pleasant surprise, love," he says. he glances back down at his work as if nothing had happened, but he no longer threatens to crumple his papers under his grip. he sighs in content as you begin to weave his hair into a braid — one strand tucked into another, then another, then...

"it's a little tangled again," you comment.

"then i'm all the more honoured to have you do this for me," he replies. the words are teasing, but his mouth doesn't so much as twitch.

a small huff of a laugh leaves your lips, and you comb your fingers one more time through his hair to pull his bangs out of his face. the far end is tied off with a small elastic and for a moment you take a step back to admire the river of gold cascading down his back.

your fingers ghost over his neck again, tucking in any stray strands, and you blow a bit of cold air onto his exposed nape.

he jolts, turns around to face you, pulling the braid over one shoulder and out of your reach. "thank you," he says, his lips upturned in the ghost of a smile. "would you care to join me? i fear this work to be far too lonesome otherwise."

[nariwalsh]

A Knight in Cloudwalkers

Olisha stood silently in the hall of of Cloudwalkers’ guild, contemplating the mail that had just reached her hands. Many parchments had passed through her grasp as guild leader, but this particular one was of interest.

"Oh, we have mail?" Arienna's wee voice broke the Teir'Dal from her thoughts. She glanced down at her fae comrade with a nod.

"Yeah, doesn't say who it's from but I'll find out soon enough." Olisha worked at the parchment and broke the wax seal. What she didn't tell her tiny ally was that she recognized said seal's symbol.

She unfolded the parchment within, noting its quality. Whomever sent this meant business. She finally read aloud, "Olisha N'Vasvor. I am requesting a meeting regarding a possible membership to your guild. If permissible, you may find me at The Basilisk's Lair in Freeport on the day of Windday the 3rd. Green cloak and hood, green wooden mask. Regards - gods I can't make this out. Fuck Sathirian. Sargon Val- Var- Varsi- oh shit!"

"What is it?" Arienna's brows knit together in worry, and her wings fluttered with her nervousness.

"Varsiss! Like Athenia and Isella Varsiss! They actually have a brother, but what are the odds this is them?" Olisha poked at the paper. It was no wonder the seal was familiar; The two she had mentioned had been guild members for quite some time, but their third living sibling had been absent from their lives.

"Only one way to find out. Well, perhaps there's multiple ways this time, but I am meaning to say you should ask those two!" Arienna frantically gestured.

Olisha smirked. Fae were so amusing. "I will do exactly that."

~*~

Isella and Athenia sat together on the couch in front of the hall's large hearth. Their expressions ranged from bewilderment to concern looking over the letter.

"This is him, for ccertain." Isella remarked as she held the parchment with her left hand.

"Doessss he… even know we are here?" Athenia's nose twitched as she nervously stared at the object held by her elder sister.

“No,” Isella sighed putting her hands and the letter into her lap, “he would have sssaid sssomething if he did.”

“I’m noticing you two look uh, concerned. Is this bad, him writing us?” Olisha’s gaze fluttered back and forth between theirs.

“Sargon iss… hsss.” Athenia closed her mouth hard. She simply stared into the large fireplace before them.

“The three of us had taken the fall of our community harshly. Sargon hasss had the hardesst time coping," Isella scoffed at her own words, "By Cazic that iss too kind of me to put it! He ssspiralled out of control, and has committed unspeakable actss even by our standardss. It wass to the point we ccceased contact with him.”

Isella frowned, her eyes firmly meeting Olisha’s. The elven guildmaster's gut sank. 

“Well shit. Do you think I’ll be in danger meeting him?" She queried. Not that she couldn't handle danger, but that was obviously something she did not want to invite into their walls.

“He iss requesting a… public meeting. You… should be sssafe there.” Athenia struggled with her common tongue this time around, and drew up one leg on the sofa to put her arms around her folded knee. She was still staring out into the fireplace, visibly uncomfortable with what was taking place.

“Should I mention you two are here? Do you want to come with me?” Olisha offered.

“It would not endanger us to mention our presence. We need not come but - hsss.” A smirk tugged at Isella’s mouth as she brought her thumb to her chin, pondering. “It has been sssome years. Perhaps thisss is a ssign we are ready to reunite or move forward. It will depend on what he has to say and was you assesss of this… ssssituation.”

Olisha shrugged “Fate has a funny way of working out. If this isn’t the time for it, then maybe it’s just the seed that gets planted this time around.”

“Wise wordsss, Miss N’Vasssvor,” Athenia said as if she were trying to find comfort in them, but her twitching tail gave away her still-lingering anxiety.

The Teir'dal laughed and waved a hand at her companions, “Eh, you live this long and you notice a few things about life. Anyway. I’ll go check this out. We’ll see where we go after we meet. If I smell trouble brewing he won’t be let in, simple as that.”

~*~

Windday came, and Olisha had arrived at the Basilisk’s Lair in Freeport. It was a relatively new establishment, forged when the city had sought to eliminate its more run-down areas. It was a popular spot for both Sarnak and Iksar alike, although the city’s non-scaled residents were relatively welcome as long as they did not invite trouble along with them.

Wrapped in her dark grey cloak, the dark elven woman expected the curious looks she received as soon as she entered. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for one belonging to her race to stir trouble at some point. She couldn’t help but smirk at the stares - she seemed like a tiny morsel compared to most of the other customers.

She ignored the attention and looked for the tall stranger clad in green, and she found him rather easily even from the booth tucked towards the back.

Sargon was dressed in a simple off-white shirt but his cloak and wooden mask were just as described. As his siblings had illustrated him, he was built like he took his role as a knight of Thule seriously and Olisha had a good hunch that what was sitting at that table was nothing but muscle, scale, and a whole pile of reptilian-flavoured danger.

She slid herself in a casual manner in the seat across from him like this was any other meeting but perked a brow as soon as she laid eyes on his large, Kunark-sized form up close. She was guessing he had to be at least eight feet tall if not more.

As soon as he had sight of her there, he was completely stiff, his back pressed behind the booth wall behind him. His thick, clawed hands were flattened on the wooden table. Everything about his body language was screaming as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“What, am I that scary?” Olisha smirked with a teasing chuckle. This was an unexpected reaction. “I am Olisha N’Vasvor. You, Sargon Varsiss, requested this meeting.”

She could hear the breath that was let out from behind his mask. Now she was confused, but she wore a calm expression even as a pang of alarm rose in her gut. Considering how deadly his siblings had proven themselves to be, she expected no less from him. She would need to be quick if this was about to turn dark.

His dull-reddish-hued hands slid from the table into his lap and he looked to the side. He paused as if he were confronting all of his life decisions up to that point.

Finally, one hand rose to pull the fabric of his hood back and the other moved to remove the mask covering his features. He finally was revealed in full to her, and now Olisha could see why he was so shocked to have her slide up in front of him.

She audibly gasped. In a volume barely audible above the din of the tavern she squeaked.

“I fucked you!”

~*~

Now Olisha understood why the sizable iksar before her was so startled at her presence. Shock and disbelief crept over her now too, and her cheeks gave her feelings away by turning a bright purple-pink considering everything they’d been up to together during the past several weeks.

“Ssa,” was all that Sargon replied in his deep, husky voice. That was a ‘yes’ in Sathirian; the language he preferred speaking since they’d met. His blue-green eyes still hadn’t met her own as he continued to digest the situation.

“You um, shrunk yourself when we met before,” Olisha stated as plainly as she could even with her voice cracking. She was stupefied, and she was also trying not to laugh at the absurdity of all of this. They were a peculiar partnership to begin with and this only served to heighten the anomalous nature of it all.

Sargon finally turned his aquamarine hues on her. Indeed he had been a good two feet shorter in stature the last time they’d crossed paths. He sighed before speaking in his native tongue. “It is easier to find partners in this city that way.”

“Yeah, fair,” Olisha replied in her usual common language, an exchange that had become regular between the two. She couldn’t control herself for much longer and burst out laughing, holding her stomach until she calmed enough to speak again. She wiped a small tear from her eye as she settled. “So uh, telling each other our names was going to complicate things? Is that how you put it?”

Sargon audibly groaned and rubbed his face. He caught sight of a barmaid and immediately ordered the best ales for the both of them. They would indeed need a drink considering everything taking place.

They sat in the most awkward silence until their drinks were brought to them in steins fitting to their stature, and both consumed a good portion before the conversation continued.

“I notice you’re not bolting for the door,” Olisha remarked after she took a few good swigs of her beverage.

“No. Unfortunately I am being pushed in this direction by powers greater than ourselves. I must see this meeting through.” Sargon’s expression was certainly sour, but he looked resigned to his fate.

“Oh good, because it gets worse!” she looked him dead in the eyes as she burst into laughter again.

Athenia and Isella were both cautious and even troubled about his presence as if he was capable of terrible violence. Olisha, while wholly believing this, had known him in more recent times than they and in ways that could have easily gotten her killed. She was confident that at least this time, her familiarity with him wasn’t going to end in harm to her person.

“Ssa?” Sargon looked pained, but it was as if he was feeling like he was deserving of worse. He took another deep drink of his ale.

Olisha took another swig of her own before dropping her next statement. “Your sisters are in this guild, too.”

Sargon’s massive fist pounded the table as he choked on the amber liquid in his stein. He coughed, he groaned, he set down his ale, and he finally put his horned head in his hands as he took large breaths to calm his rage and horror.

“Do they know of this?!” He finally hissed in Sathirian. Olisha could hear a part of his tail was thunking against the booth in agitation.

Olisha watched his reaction in full before continuing to empty her own drink. “They know of this current meeting taking place. Everything else? They have no idea. That’s absolutely none of their business.”

“The one time I go outside of my kind…” Sargon lifted his head and intensely stared off at the wall beside their booth.

“Well, crazy shit happens. Let’s get back to this guild thing and why you wanted to join us in the first place because you definitely have me curious.” She was happily in a buzz from her drink at this point, and that felt like a good time to get on to guild matters.

Sargon’s expression at present was as if he wanted to scream until his lungs collapsed. He however sat back and sighed, looking like he was getting to that inebriated state himself.

He finished his drink and put it to the end of the table, a gesture silently requesting a refill. He lightly scowled and took a deep breath.

"I angered some of Tunare's followers. I will not delve into details. What followed was some kind of curse. I have been plagued by nightmares full of images of the people I have ‘unjustly’ slaughtered - of what they experienced at their deaths and now I am to… grow or continue this madness every night." He clasped his hands together on the table. 

"Growth as a person, wow." Olisha casually folded her arms and looked up at him. "So what about my guild specifically made you write to me?"

Sargon watched as a barmaid came to refill his drink, and he drank some more before he grumbled in his mother tongue "I have had to think about what ‘growth’ could possibly mean to a follower of that deity, for it is not what Cazic Thule or what those of Kunark would request of me. No, I am certain they mean some kind of atonement for my past actions or similar. Joining forces with others different from myself seemed like the logical first step.”

“What kind of ‘past actions’ are we talking about?” Olisha queried in a more rigid tone. Now she had to ask the serious questions.

“Isella did not tell you of her arm?” Sargon looked surprised at this revelation. Olisha would know that his sister’s right arm had been severed just above the elbow, but she still retained use of her right appendage thanks to ongoing magic that kept the skeletal remains of her own hand and wrist animated.

“Wait, you did that? She said she lost it in a duel!” The bewildered guildmaster lightened her stein more, surprised herself at the admission.

Sargon smirked lightly. How kind of his sibling to put it that way. “It was a duel of sorts, a challenge. Looking back now, it was for my own pride more than anything and I should not have issued it. I pushed too far. While I am happy she was able to find a solution to the damage done to her, it should not have happened in the first place. Not by her kin, her family who should be fighting beside her.”

Olisha studied the way he delivered his answer. A person can say any words they like, it’s how they are said and the actions that follow after that determine how sincere they were. He looked like he was despising the admission of his wrongdoings, but it sounded like he had no choice but to face them now.

“That’s nice for you to admit, so there will be no more of that?" Olisha quirked a brow.

"Absolutely not," Sargon replied sharply. "If I am invited to be a member of the guild, then I have a great deal of mending to do where my siblings are concerned. Perhaps that will be a part of lifting my curse.”

He continued, "With what’s taken place between us, and with Cloudwalkers being the guild they came to, it cannot be coincidence.” He sighed in what was the most depressive way an Iksar of his size possibly could.

"You do realize the guild is a neutral meeting ground, right? People from all walks of life gather here to fight for a common cause." She leaned in and gave him a stern stare.

“Yes, you are modelling yourselves after the New Combine Empire after what took place with Kerafym,” Sargon grumbled. “It seems I will have to be content to ally myself with the lesser races of Norrath.”

The mighty warrior realized his mistake the second it left his mouth. His eyes widened just as he caught the fiery glare that filled Olisha’s own. He held up a hand as he set down his stein on the table as if he were preparing for an onslaught of epic proportions. Not that he had any idea what the woman before him was truly capable of, but it was fairly common knowledge that a Teir’dal was no one you wanted angry with you. He had enough forces displeased with him as-is.

“I-I do not mean to say you are beneath me, pet!” Sargon grasped for the right words to placate his unlikely lover and potential guild leader, “I would be dishonest if I said that I have not enjoyed our time together. If I can appreciate such… activities with someone so different than I, then surely I can raise my sword alongside others in battle.”

Olisha’s tension visibly diffused. She smirked. All right, she’d give him that save. Perhaps it was a taste of how he would be in conflict resolution to come.

“All right, sir. I’ll give you a pass,” she folded her arms with that smirk still on her face, “So you’d be joining us as a warrior of Thule?”

“Correct. I offer my services as a knight in his name. Everything I will do is for him, and for lifting this damned curse. Now you know my motives.” Sargon took a couple more drinks from his stein before sitting back with a sigh as he seemed to be successful in coming the situation. “I can promise you, our encounters had nothing to do with it. Those make all of this awkward.”

“Mmmhm. There will be a definite role reversal here with my leading of the guild,” Olisha leaned back herself. “It’s definitely amusing. Guild business is guild business, and anything beyond that is none of anyone else’s. Although people might catch on if you keep calling me ‘pet’, sir.”

For the first time since the meeting began, the faintest smirk of amusement crossed Sargon’s scaled features as she playfully jabbed at him. That was more of the person she’d gotten to know, or at least a facet of him seeing as they kept much of their lives from one another.

“Sorry if this is forward as fuck, but I know about Rathis and I hear you’ve had the worst time dealing with it. You’ll be bringing your skills as a knight to our guild, but we can have your back, too,” OIisha started, cautiously watching him as he took another drink of ale. “There may be opportunities in Ro’s deserts to help you with your curse, so we could pursue that. But you know, if it means we go get ourselves a room and forget about the world for a bit like we’ve been doing? We could do that, too. Whatever we can do for you. Within reason. I don’t want to get cursed, too.”

Sargon paused his drinking, and set his stein down as a stone-hard gaze found Olisha’s petite form. She wondered if at that moment it was she who had gone too far.

He rested his arms on the table and sighed, his voice was heavy with exhaustion. "That's the first time in eons that I’ve been offered something like that."

"Well, it probably won't be the last. We're all a family by choice here as awfully sappy as that sounds. The world is full of shit and we’re all here to make it a little less so while within our walls.” It was rare she found herself giving such a sentimental pep talk like this, but the situation called for it.

Sargon’s hand completely engulfed hers in an almost comical way. She had to smirk at their true size difference as they gently shook on their new alliance.

“Thank you,” Sargon said after some pause. He still seemed weary, but he was at least calmed with the direction the conversation went.

“Welcome to Cloudwalkers?” Olisha put her hand out for him to shake.

She playfully patted his hand with her free hand and let go. She then gave him one of her more typical grins he'd come to know from her. “Let’s get onto the fun parts. Like guild tours.”

~*~

Sargon and Olisha stood in the guild hall’s lushly-decorated common area, the former taking in everything that she had just walked him through. Throughout the whole tour, she could tell there was still something pulling at him.

“Is all this a bit too much? You look really bothered,” she plainly called him out.

Sargon let out a harsh sigh, “You must think me weak for what happened in Rathis.”

“Pfft, please. I’ve lived over three hundred years and have seen that sometimes shit things happen to people and for no good reason either.” Olisha firmly crossed her arms as she looked up at his large frame.

He seemed to relax somewhat as if she had pulled tension straight from him, loosening some bothersome knot.

However that tension soon resumed as the guild hall doors opened, and a familiar figure soon found herself in the doorway to the commons.

Isella froze as she laid eyes on her brother, and he did as much when he saw her. The air was suddenly thick and heavy with so many years of harsh history there before them.

“Isella…” Sargon started, but he soon stopped as she swiftly closed the distance between them. 

“Welcome home, Sargon.” She said this in Sathirian, offering her hand still clad in her plated Freeport uniform - the exact hand he had severed years ago. She came to him not with malice but with hope that maybe this time they could finally come together as the family they were.

“I am home,” he replied in their native tongue. He couldn’t help but smile faintly as he latched onto what was left of her right wrist, and she in turn latched onto his. All this time had passed and so much had transpired, and Isella still welcomed him back. Emotions swelling, his other hand then clasped onto the other side of her hand he held, and she reciprocated.

“Let the dark parts of our past stay there. So long as you can do that, we can build a better future.” Isella’s words were as firm but gentle. She was still cautious even with the hope that filled her.

“Athenia…" Sargon started, but lost what he was going to say as his thoughts weighed down on him.

"Show her you mean well. She is still afraid of you, but it need not stay that way. We can shift that fear onto those who should fear us in the first place." Isella watched her brother as he soaked in her words. He seemed tired, remorseful. Something in him had definitely shifted since the last time they crossed paths.

"I can leave you two be! Sounds like you have a lot of catching up to do." Olisha offered.

"Has he passsed your judgement, Olisha?" Isella asked in common, smirking as she came away from him.

"He has, he has!" Olisha put her hands up and waved them as she snickered, "We had a nice drink and a chat."

"We have met before," Sargon offered, and as that left his mouth he realized he'd have to explain that.

"Yes! One of the taverns in Freeport. Funny how fate works." Olisha smirked and put her hands on her hips. The large Kunark native was impressed with how seamlessly her lie came to her. He nodded in relief. It seems his open nature may come with drawbacks.

"Then thisss was indeed meant to happen." Isella gave a firm pat to Sargon's shoulder. "We will take thisss one day at a time, hsss?"

Sargon gently nodded once more. Even with all the comedy that had been involved in his meeting with Olisha, standing within the guild's hall with his kin felt right. While he was still uneasy considering their tumultuous past, for once he finally felt that he was where he was supposed to be.

For now, he was home.

[whencyclopedia]

Enheduanna

The Akkadian poet Enheduanna (l. 2285-2250 BCE) is the world's first author known by name and was the daughter of Sargon of Akkad (Sargon the Great, r. 2334-2279 BCE). Whether Enheduanna was, in fact, a blood relative of Sargon's or the title was figurative is not known.

It is clear, however, that Sargon placed enormous trust in Enheduanna in elevating her to the position of high priestess of the most important temple in Sumer (in the city of Ur) and leaving to her the responsibility for melding the Sumerian gods with the Akkadian ones to create the stability his empire needed to thrive.

Further, she is credited with creating the paradigms of poetry, psalms, and prayers used throughout the ancient world which led to the development of the genres recognized in the present day. Scholar Paul Kriwaczek writes:

Her compositions, though only rediscovered in modern times, remained models of petitionary prayer for . Through the Babylonians, they influenced and inspired the prayers and psalms of the Hebrew Bible and the Homeric hymns of Greece. Through them, faint echoes of Enheduanna, the first named literary author in history, can even be heard in the hymnody of the early Christian church. (121)

Her influence during her lifetime was as impressive as her literary legacy. Entrusted by her father with great responsibility, Enheduanna not only exceeded those expectations but changed the entire culture. Through her written works, she altered the very nature of the Mesopotamian gods and the perception the people had of the divine.

Life

Enheduanna's name translates as 'High Priestess of An' (the sky god) or 'En-Priestess, wife of the god Nanna'. She came from the northern city of Akkad and, as Kriwaczek notes, "would have had a Semitic birth name on moving to Ur, the very heartland of Sumerian culture, she took a Sumerian official title: Enheduanna – 'En' (Chief Priest or Priestess); 'hedu' (ornament); 'Ana' (of heaven)" (120).

She organized and presided over the city's temple complex, the heart of the city, and held her own against an attempted coup by a Sumerian rebel named Lugal-Ane who forced her into exile. The Akkadian Empire, for all the wealth and stability it brought to the region, was constantly plagued by uprisings in the various regions under its control. One of Enheduanna's responsibilities in the region of Sumer would have been to keep the populace in check through religion.

In the case of Lugal-Ane, however, she seems to have been bested, at least initially. In her poem The Exaltation of Inanna, she tells the story of being driven from her post as high priestess and cast into exile. She writes a plea for help to the goddess Inanna requesting her to petition the god An for help:

Funeral offerings were brought, as if I had never lived there.

I approached the light, but the light scorched me.

I approached the shade, but I was covered with a storm.

My honeyed mouth became scummed. Tell An about Lugal-Ane and my fate!

May An undo it for me! As soon as you tell An about it, An will release me. (lines 67-76)

Inanna apparently heard her prayer and, through divine intercession, Enheduanna was finally restored to her rightful place in the temple. She seems to have been the first woman to hold this position in Ur and her comportment as high priestess would have served as an exemplary model for those who followed her.

Continue reading...

[darklinsblog]

Flesh & Heart | Lucerys Velaryon Imagine

Summary: Lucerys Velaryon, the future Lord of the Tides would even defy her Majesty, his mother, all for love

Pairing: Lucerys Velaryon x Targaryen!Reader

Part I

Ever since that night on the pleasure house and the following actions on Luke’s chamber, you had barely gone apart. Which was quite disastrous taking into account you were still on accords to marry and Lucerys was betrothed to Rhaena.

For that, he knew he should’ve kept it quiet, to let that night fall onto oblivion, so you could go on with your lives and duties.

But he kept finding himself on bed with you, foolishly enamored and regardless of how hard he tried, his heart was elsewhere and his mother could spot the eyes of love on any distance.

From her perspective, maybe her children were simply being young, discovering even.

Rhaenyra didn’t see this as a sign of a alarm because as far as she was concerned, you both had every intention to follow along the lines of your traced destiny.

But as everything seemed at ease, Lucerys was able to have you every night, to suffice his need of you but even then it did not feel enough.

He was passionately kissing you, holding you with all his need in front of any guards, you were scared this would bring you trouble, but as soon as his body crashed onto yours, everything was forgotten.

There was only him and him alone.

But you knew reality was following along, sneaking upon the bedroom, filling your head with doubt.

As your lover was holding you close, pulling your hair apart to tenderly kiss on your shoulder you could only think of the one thing you had been hiding from Lucerys for over a week now.

“What’s clouding your mind, my dove?” He asked you

“I shall wed to Sargon Baratheon”

The room fell death silent as you spoke the truth. Lucerys seemed to tense up as he cupped your face, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“That is a lie” he muttered as his eyes watered, you shook your head slightly.

“I have chosen in an intent to protect the both of us” you spoke as the voice of reason, but he cared not for reason.

“How will this do us any good?!” He was hurt, mostly definitely, but you couldn’t string along any longer, the pain would only be greater.

Luke stood up, leaving you in the bed, creating distance between the two and in a way, this would be very much like your distance after your marriage.

“Lucerys wake up! You are to be Lord of Driftmark and to take Rhaena as your lady, we cannot fool ourselves, I am to marry a good Lord and that’s the end of it!”

“I am in love with you, Y/N! Does that not count for anything?”

“Love is not above politics, Luke…” you were speaking the mere facts, but it did not made the blow any lighter. “Lord Baratheon is to come to King’s Landing in three days and he shall take me as wife the day after”

“I am to lose you in four days from now and you wish for me to fucking what? Sit back, drink wine and clap happily upon your wedding?!” You looked down, knowing this was anything but fair

The young prince felt absolutely insane he was bubbling with anger, sadness, confusion… All at once.

“Our mother has made the arrangements, it is done, we cannot-“ you choked up in between the tears and now, he realized you were just as distressed as he was so he rushed to get on his knees and cup your face, wiping away with his thumbs your silent tears.

“I wish not to be apart…” you said with a low voice, and his heart skipped a beat

“Say the word Y/N, just a word from you is enough, for me to cross all skies, move every tide and ground there is to this world”

The prince was looking at you intensely, even now you could imagine your life with someone else, but that life would be dull, no matter how great was the man you were wedded to, you didn’t wish to share a life with a man that wasn’t Lucerys Velaryon.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon The Sea Rider, heir of Driftmark, and Princess Y/N Velaryon, princess of Dragonstone”

The doors to the throne room opened widely, revealing you and Lucerys hand in hand.

Your mother Rhaenyra was sitting on the irone throne, many feet up and above you and you couldn’t prevent your knees from trembling. Even then, Luke held you firmly by the waist.

“My sweet boy and my beloved daughter to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We wish to speak to you and our family alone” you managed to say graciously, your mother looked at the both of you, before turning to the Guards and other members who stood there.

“Please leave us” The Queen Regent requested and soon, there was only Jace, Joffrey, your mother, and your step-father Daemon alongside you.

“Feel free to speak your minds” she allowed you.

“Mother we wish for both of our marital agreements are dissolved” Lucerys spoke standing tall and firm, he no longer seemed that 14-year-old frightened and doubtful.

He was a righteous Prince.

“On what accounts?” Rhaenyra asked, even when she could figure what this was all about.

“Love, mother” he spoke simply holding you close. “It was not our intent, but Y/N and I have fallen for each other”

“Your Majesty, I see no other than Luke, if I am to have a content life I wish to share it with him alone” you spoke, your mother staying awfully quiet, thinking, soaking in your words as your family in the room shared expectant glances.

“As touched as I am at heart, this marital agreements must go forward in other to ensure beneficial alliances” she said rather calm yet authoritative.

“If it’s beneficial alliances you seek, Lady Rhaena may marry Corwyn Corbray, his house already has proven a good ally, a marriage would be aligned with the political agenda” Luke offered as it was the easiest decision to make, quite frankly, it was amazing how much sense it truly made.

“You may find a solution to your marriage being dissolved my dear boy, but the truth of the matter it has already been notified to Sir Sargon Baratheon that this marriage is to be celebrated, standing back now will be disastrous beyond proportion” she tried to reason, Y/N’s stomach fell to the floor as well as any hope that she could’ve harvest.

“Mother, I beg you” you said, your mother was torn apart truly, but there was no way out of this, not now. Not when the choice was made.

You shared glances with both Jace and Daemon and they both wished to help, but they couldn’t, your mother’s claim was already standing on a thin line for the fact of being a woman sitting on the Iron Throne.

There were some mistakes that could not be made.

But Lucerys would drop it so easily, not with this and so he held your hand tighter. But no one was expecting what the prince said next.

“If you oppose to this your Majesty, I will be taking Arrax and traveling to Dragonstone to take Y/N as my wife on all accounts” Lucerys deadpanned and as he did everyone held onto their breaths.

This time, your mother looked hurt and deeply offended as she sat up straight and with her tense shoulders.

“You dare to defy the authority of your Queen, Lucerys?” She spoke rather harshly now.

“We are flesh, your Majesty. I am simply stating the fact that there are greater forces than House Targaryen itself. If you do not support us, you’ll give us no choice”

“Brother, be wise” Jace spoke quietly, trying to ease up the tension on the room, while your step-father choked on a smile, half-proud and half-impressed with the kid’s balls.

“I have been, this is the only time I allowed myself to act upon heart rather than mind” it was scary for everyone else to see Luke this defying of our authority, he had never been a rebel boy by any means, but it was stimulating to see the one you love fight for you so fervently.

Daemon stepped closer to Luke, trying to get him to back down, but Lucerys was quick to pull him away.

“I am no longer a boy, father” he spoke furiously, yet trying to kept his composure, as a man, Daemon knew his had no place to interfere now, not with the determination in Lucerys’ eyes.

“I am simply giving you a choice as our mother, the decision is made, you simply have to chose if you want to give us your blessing or not, either way it’ll be done”

“Why are you doing this?” She said, more hurt than anything.

“Why are you opposing this, mother?! YOU of all people should understand!” He roared and a heaviness fell on the room as he did.

Now you took a step forward “We know you loved our father in a unique way, but we knew your heart belonged to Daemon. Do we deserve the same pain you went through?”

“You talk of beneficial agreements. Marry us now and ensure Luke’s claim as righteous heir of The Tides, without the outrageous doubts of his legitimacy”

Rhaenyra let out a sigh now with a mischievous grin, the Queen stood up and walked down, to encounter her children, she kissed both of their foreheads letting out a soft giggle.

“You two, are indeed my flesh and blood” you and Lucerys looked at each other before looking back at your mother. “…and if you’ve taught me something today is that you will make a fine union”

Your eyes opened wide as realization hit, Luke and you shared a look of pure joy before you jumped into his arms, holding onto your future for dear life.

Lucerys looked deep into your eyes before kissing you with a heart full of joy, love, hope and everything in between.

“OI OI! There’s a minor in the room, you two!” Jace half-joked and when you turned you saw your older brother covering Joff’s eyes while the poor boy was squirming to try and get away.

“I’M FIFTEEN! Like I haven’t seen two people go at each other’s tongues like snakes fightin’!” Joff protested as everyone in the room burst out in a joint laughter.

“We’ll talk later with you, boy” Daemon said in a jokingly authoritative voice as he ruffled Joffrey’s hair.

And in that moment, every single thing made sense and it was perfect, it was full of joy.

You couldn’t help but smile thinking maybe, this was just a glimpse of the life ahead of you.

[outerspacedunce]

i love when Spock uses Jim's name casually 🥰 it happens so rarely.

in return to tomorrow, when bones threatens sargon with his phaser, spock says "that is still Jim's body." and he could have just as easily said "The Captain's." but he didn't and i wanna yell about it for days.

[five-rivers]

The next part of my pollfic! You guys got me with a tie last time. I tried my best!

Previous.

(Edited to actually put the poll in, sorry about that.)

.

For a moment, Danny was paralyzed by indecision.  Who should he go to?  Who should he help?  But then he remembered that this wasn’t a combat situation.  He could help both, one at a time.  

There were, perhaps, some negative side effects from spending his formative years as a ghost as a superhero and satisfying his Obsession through combat.  It was very unfortunate.  Useful in combat!  Less so at other times.  

But he should ask the large man first, or else by the time he finished translating for the attendant he might be done.  He inched closer, hovering so he could actually see what the man had spread out on his table.  

His heart sank when he saw clay tablets and papyrus scrolls covered with the tiny, black squiggles of Coptic.  

Danny knew a fair amount of Akkadian cuneiform.  While Pandora tended to focus on the immediately and practically applicable when it came to language lessons, Clockwork had a more chronological method.  As in, he seemed intent on teaching Danny languages in the order of when they were first written down, except for when a certain language was necessary for one of the time field trips he sometimes sent Danny on.  

(He had not, perhaps, revealed the extent of those trips to his parents.  A story for another time.)

Coptic was, sadly, not among those.  

Still.  He was a bit more concerned about the expressions of abject suffering the man was making.  

“Um, excuse me?  Sir?  Are you alright?” asked Danny.  He bobbed in the air, near the man’s shoulder.  “Do you need help?”

The man looked up in clear surprise, eyes flicking over Danny from head to toe.  Not that there was a whole lot of Danny to look over right now.  “Ah,” he said, “I am afraid I have reached beyond my grasp, but unless you have the Coptic and the language of Blessed Sargon both, it is not to be.”

“I know some Akkadian.  I could translate it into English and then you can put it into Coptic?” suggested Danny. 

“Alas, I am going the other way,” said the man, pulling slightly on his curly beard.  “The Coptic, into mine own language, yes?”

“Oh,” said Danny, deflating further.  “Okay.  Sorry.  You just looked, um…”

“Wait,” said Dad.  “He’s from ancient Sumeria?  Ask him what that was like!  He’s got to know so much stuff!”

Danny was not going to ask him that.  That would be rude, considering how hard he was working, and edged just a little too close to asking a stranger about their death for Danny’s peace of mind.  

“That is very dear of you, to come see,” said the large man.  “Perhaps after this, our paths cross again, hm?”

“Maybe,” said Danny.  “Sorry for interrupting you.”

The man waved him off, already refocusing on his tablets.  Danny gathered up his things and hurried to the attendant’s desk only to discover that she had been watching him.  But for how long?

“Hi!” he said, a little nervous from the pressing need of his Obsession.  “I finished this translation, and I was wondering if I could help you out with the others you mentioned?  Or other Elysian ones?”

The attendant stared at him for a long moment, and Danny got the distinct and vaguely embarrassing sense that his Obsession had been correctly clocked.  

Then her face scrunched up into the expression people made when they had seen something indescribably cute.  Ugh.  

“Oh my goodness,” she said, “that’s so lovely and sweet of you to offer!  Like I said, we have a pretty big backlog, so any help you can give us there is greatly appreciated.  But… if you don’t mind doing something that isn’t strictly translation, there’s something else you can help us with that needs Elysian Greek.  Among other things.”“Er, Danno,” said Dad, “why are we doing this?  I thought you just wanted to give us a look around the library?”

[dreadhollow]

I know nobody cares but I am going feral over my own Tav RAHHHH 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥‼️‼️

His name is Sargon and he is a wood elf barbarian and super annoying, like not evil but also needs to shut his mouth because wtf is the matter with him- but I adore him !! Him and Astarion will be falling in love 🏃‍♂️

[frostfire-17]

What is cuneiform?

@ipsomaniac asked if I could explain the cuneiform system, and so I am going to give it a shot. Here goes! (Update: it got long! But there's pictures!)

Part I: What does it look like? How do we work with it?

This is the cuneiform script:

This is a first-millennium BC text of Sargon II, in Akkadian (specifically Neo-Assyrian). My user icon is a much older Sumerian text. In a second we'll see some Hittite. Just like the Latin script is used for English, French, Turkish, and many other languages today, the cuneiform script was used for lots of languages in the ancient world. It changed a bit over three thousand years of constant use, but it remains pretty recognizable because of the wedges. "Cuneiform" is just Latin for "wedge-shaped," because scholars love giving things banal names and then translating them into Latin or Greek so no one can tell.

This is a Hittite tablet:

This particular tablet is part of the royal funerary ritual (which has many many MANY tablets, many of which are way more broken than this one, and/or missing entirely). It's been pieced together from lots of fragments, all excavated separately. (You can see their excavation numbers written on the fragments, e.g. 39/c.) It's written on clay, like most of their texts were. This is a pretty good amount of preservation for a tablet this size - many are more fragmentary. I wish the picture were better, but tablets are not catalogued by how good the pictures are and it would have taken a million years to find a really hi-res one suitable for our purposes.

You can see that each symbol is made up of a bunch of wedges. These were pressed into the clay with a stylus while it was still wet. If you look closely, you can also spot spaces between words (more obvious at the end of a paragraph).

Here's a little slice of our tablet:

And here's a drawing of that same little slice. This is how scholars usually interact with texts on a day-to-day basis, because taking readable photos of tablets is difficult and going to see the tablets is more difficult. Drawings are made by experts in the presence of the tablets and published so that everyone can look at them.

Here the scholar who did this drawing (published in Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazköi vol. 39, text no. 4) was working with only some of the fragments, and so has written in the transliteration of the left half, which they weren't copying. So you can see how each cuneiform sign corresponds to a written syllable, sometimes in lowercase, sometimes in all caps, and sometimes in superscript.

What does all this mean? How does it work? Okay. Cuneiform is a really difficult and frustrating writing system to read, for a few reasons. 1) It grew organically from a time before writing existed, so people were just kind of slowly figuring out how to use pictures to represent words; 2) it lasted for thousands of years, so there were all sorts of innovations tacked on without necessarily jettisoning any of the old stuff; and 3) it was borrowed through quite a few languages, almost none of which were related to one another, so it had to twist around and adapt to totally different sounds and word structures. So it's weird! And hard to learn, especially for us, because we are not native speakers of any of the languages that used it, and also we're not a single person existing in a snapshot of time, where cuneiform had a specific form and iteration - we're looking at its whole span of three thousand years.

THAT SAID. I can explain some stuff about it and how it worked! Here goes!

Part 2: How does it work as a writing system?

We start with a picture. Let's use a star. Like this: 𒀭

Or this:

(this is a student text copying the star sign over and over - ignore the leftmost column. I got it from this excellent thread here)

This is the cuneiform sign for the sky, or for a god. In Sumerian, the language that first used cuneiform, the word for "sky" is AN. The word for "god" is DINGIR. So this sign could be pronounced either AN, and mean sky, or DINGIR, and mean god. This sort of usage is called "logographic" - a sign equals a word. It started as just a picture of a star, and came to mean a couple of things associated with the stars.

Eventually, there reaches a point where it doesn't just only mean the word "sky," it also means the syllable "an." That is, you could use it to represent a part of a word, or a grammatical element, that was pronounced "an." (E.g., ma-ah-ha-an: mahhan, which is a Hittite word that means "when," and which is written with four signs, including our an.) This is called the rebus principle: like a rebus puzzle, a picture of an eye can also mean "I" because they sound the same. This usage supplements the logograms rather than replacing them: you could still use "an" to mean "sky." You know which usage is in play based on context. (Or at this stage, maybe you don't. Sumerian is real hard and we don't understand it perfectly.)

You can also use signs a third way, which is designed to make reading easier: as what's called a "determinative." A determinative tells you what type of thing a word is. So if you use the star symbol as a determinative, it comes before a word and indicates that upcoming is a god's name. It's not pronounced when it's used like that. Other determinatives include: male and female markers, plural markers, markers to indicate what something is made of, what kind of animal it is, etc.

So any sign you see could potentially be a word (logogram), a sound (syllable), or a soundless classifier (determinative). In practice, only some signs take on all three of these functions.

When we transcribe signs now, we write them in Latin script based on which function they're serving. That's why, in the above Hittite texts, some of the signs were written in all-caps (for logograms), some of them in lowercase (for syllables), and some of them in superscript (for determinatives).

So then Akkadian borrows the system. They like to spell words out a lot more than the Sumerians do, so more and more signs are used primarily for their syllables, rather than their meaning. The signs also take on more syllabic meanings, because Akkadian has different words behind the logograms, and also has different sounds than Sumerian. A lot of signs end up doing double, triple or even-more-ple duty (e.g. the sign for "ag" can also be read "ak" or "aq" in an Akkadian text). Once again, you know how to read a sign from context, and in Akkadian you usually actually do know, because Akkadian is a Semitic language rather than an isolate like Sumerian, so we understand it way, way better.

Akkadian keeps using the symbols as logograms, though, too. Sometimes they'll spell out a word, but sometimes they'll just use the logographic symbol for it - like how sometimes we write out "two," and sometimes just write "2". Sometimes there are full Sumerian words or combinations of words that have become logograms: that is, they're not loanwords. They're not pronounced in Sumerian. They're written as a symbol (like 2), and the Akkadian word would be pronounced underneath (like "two.") The Akkadians also keep using determinatives.

At this point, most signs at least have a logographic value and a few syllabic values. Also (to make it extra difficult) plenty of syllables have a couple of different signs that could be used to represent them. In total there's a bit over a thousand cuneiform signs, incidentally, but usually only a few hundred were in use at any given time and place.

Then Hittite borrows it! They actually overall reduce the number of signs used, and the number of signs doing double duty, so it's generally simpler to read. Hittite's sound system is totally different from Akkadian's, though - which is totally different from Sumerian's - so they do some weird stuff with which signs represent which sounds. (The result of this is that our understanding of Hittite phonetics is somewhat imperfect.) They do use a ton of logograms whenever they're talking about physical objects, especially ritual offerings. Ritual texts are A PAIN IN THE ASS to read because they're full up with obscure logograms, and so you pore over a signlist trying to work out what the bonkers twelve-wedge sign you've never seen before is, and then when you finally find it you're like, "oh ANOTHER kind of bread. cool cool."

Part 3: Let's Read Hittite! (This is probably excessive.)

So finally, let's read some together! This is two lines from the Ten-Year Annals of Mursili II, an account of the first ten years of that king's reign. It's mostly conquering, but this bit is calmer.

(ANNOYINGLY, Tumblr will not do superscript, or I cannot make it anyway, so I will put determinatives in parentheses.)

nam-ma (URU)Ha-at-tu-ši ú-wa-nu-un nu (URU)Ha-at-tu-ši

gi-im-ma-an-da-ri-nu-un nu-za EZEN4.HI.A ŠA MU.6.KAM i-ya-nu-un

That's the text rendered sign-by-sign. Everything that is separated by a dash, a period, a space, or a parenthesis is a separate sign. Words are separated with spaces. Here's a more normalized rendition of the words (still with the logograms, though).

namma (URU)Hattusi uwanun nu (URU)Hattusi gimmandarinun nu=za EZEN4.HI.A ŠA MU.6.KAM iyanun

"Then I went to Hattusa, and I spent the winter in Hattusa and performed the festivals of the sixth year."

The ú in uwanun in the first line is written with an accent because there are several signs that can mean "u" and this is the second one. Similar for EZEN4: there's more than one sign for EZEN, and this is the fourth. Scholars always write logograms and determinatives in Sumerian, because that's where the meanings were fixed. URU, used before Hattusa, is both the determinative for "city" and the Sumerian word meaning the same. ŠA in the last line is italicized and capitalized because it's a logogram that comes from Akkadian: "ša" means "of" in Akkadian, and the Hittites used Akkadian words as logograms just like the Akkadians used Sumerian words.

Anyway, that's how cuneiform works! If you made it this far you're a hero! <3

[actualadvocacybruh]

Remember that joke sargon made where he said “wouldn’t even rape you” to someone that was assaulted

Yeah that guy is being supported by rad fems for his anti trans stances

It’s why I could care less that they whine about me making a reference to roofies in a joke

They don’t care about rape or assault they just use it as a shield like Rowling uses her “abuse” (I use quotation marks cause I’ve yet to see proof it happened and authors make up things all the time to make their life seem more interesting or tragic) to deflect criticism or call outs for dogshit holocaust denialism

[marmoladon]

So I have a new Volgirre NPC in the chronicle, his name is Theo, representative of NYC sabbat.

Actor, sculptor, arts patron, serial killer and a "bodybuilder". In his free time enjoys kidnapping kine who lack artistic souls and turning them into art pieces. The NYPD knows him as the red eagle, a name he cares little about but considers somewhat of his Nom de Plume. His three (live) snake tattoos are named Cyrus, Sargon and Menes. They function as his pets, art pieces, adornments and occasionally advisors.

[city-of-ladies]

Queen Naqiʾa/Zakūtu

(Relief depicting Naqiʾa and her son Esarhaddon)

"Naqiʾa (c. 730– 668 BCE), wife of Sennacherib (705– 681), mother of the Neo- Assyrian king Esarhaddon (681– 669) and grandmother of Ashurbanipal (668– 627), is the best documented and in all probability most influential royal woman of the Neo- Assyrian period.

It was often suggested that Naqiʾa was the driving force behind Sennarcherib’s installment of Esarhaddon as crown prince. This was a truly exceptional case, as Esarhaddon was one of Sennacherib’s younger sons and most probably, even as a young man, suffered from an illness that would later kill him. Sickness was often interpreted as a sign of divine wrath in Mesopotamia; therefore, it was a severe obstacle for a claimant to the throne and any sickness of the king could be used to question his status as the darling of the gods. Maybe we will never know what the reasons for Esarhaddon’s promotion were, but we are sure about the results of Sennacherib’s decision.

Sennacherib was assassinated by his other sons and Esarhaddon had to fight his brothers in order to be enthroned. While the rebellion was going on, Naqiʾa explored the future of her son by asking for prophetic messages, something that was usually a privilege of the kings. The answer highlights the role of Ishtar, here called the Lady of Arbela, and the privileged position, of Naqiʾa:

I am the Lady of Arbela! To the king’s mother, since you implored me, saying: “The one on the right and the other on the left you have placed in your lap. My own offspring you expelled to roam the steppe!” No, king, fear not! Yours is the kingdom, yours is the power! By the mouth of Aḫat- abiša, a woman from Arbela.

Seemingly, the prophecy was right: it took Esarhaddon only two months to defeat his brothers and he was enthroned as Assyrian king. In this text Naqiʾa is already designated as queen mother; according to Melville this was “the highest rank a woman could achieve.”

In earlier research Naqiʾa was often seen as the strong woman behind a weak, sick, and superstitious king. Newer research has demonstrated that despite all of his problems, Esarhaddon was a capable ruler, who brought the Neo-Assyrian Empire to its maximal extension and pacified Babylonia, at least for a while. 

During his reign Naqiʾa became really powerful and commissioned her own building inscription. To undertake large building projects and praise them in inscriptions is typical for kings, but extraordinary for a royal woman. The inscription introduces Naqiʾa in a bombastic tone, which is quite typical for inscriptions commissioned by kings:

I, Naqiʾa … wife of Sennacherib, king of the world, king of Assyria, daughter- in- law of Sargon [II], king of the world, king of Assyria, mother of Esarhaddon, king of the world [and] king of Assyria; the gods Aššur, S.n, Šamaš, Nab., and Marduk, Ištar of Niniveh, [and] Ištar of Arbela … He [Essarhaddon] gave to me as my lordly share the inhabitants of conquered foes plundered by his bow. I made them carry hoe [and] basket and they made bricks. I … a cleared tract of land in the citadel of [the city of] Nineveh, behind the temple of the gods Sîn and Šamaš, for a royal residence of Esarhaddon, my beloved son …

We can clearly see that Naqiʾa held an extraordinarily powerful position during the reign of her son and this continued even after Esarhaddon’s death. She was eager to assure the enthronement of her grandson Assurbanipal. The loyalty treaty that was intended to secure his reign is called the treaty of Zakutu, another name of Naqiʾa. Its first lines read:

The treaty of Zakutu, the queen of Sannacherib, king of Assyria, mother of Esarhaddon, king of Assyria, with Šamaš- šumu- ukin, his equal brother, with Šamaš- metu- uballiṭ and the rest of his brothers, with the royal seed, with the magnates and the governors, the bearded and the eunuchs, the royal entourage, with the exempts and all who enter the Palace, with Assyrians high and low: Anyone who (is included) in this treaty which Queen Zakutu has concluded with the whole nation concerning her favorite grandson Assurbanipal […]

That Naqiʾa was able to conclude a treaty with the most powerful persons throughout the empire and to establish her favorite grandson on the throne is clear evidence for her powerful position, even if she simply continued the plans she had made earlier with Esarhaddon. It seems that Naqiʾa died shortly after Assurbanipal was enthroned as king."

Fink Sebastian, “Invisible Mesopotamian royal women?”, in: The Routledge companion to women and monarchy in the ancient mediterranean world

[yanderes-galore]

Would it be okay to ask for a scenario of Hiccup with a Darling that's from modern times? Like due to mysterious ways Darling ended up in Berk and freaks out because of the Sargon's and all?

Sure! That would actually be terrifying now that I think about it as a lot of the dragons are really dangerous- I tried to pace this longer as I was inspired by another writer but I'm not sure how long it'll get but I hope you like my attempt :) This was long but I feel I executed it poorly, you be the judge of that.

You have a dragon and I wish I expanded more on that but I had no ideas :( This is a tame yandere focusing on heavy manipulation more than full on violence.

Not proofread, you get this raw.

Viking Life

Yandere! Hiccup with Modern! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Darling is scared and a bit oblivious, Dubious relationship/companionship, Protective behavior, Implied stockholm syndrome.

You felt your skin bruise when you landed, the sleepiness in your eyes shaking out quickly upon landing. This was not your world, it was one of fiction. One of fantasy, with vikings and dragons.

One moment you were sleeping in your bed for a quick nap. The next you were falling onto the cold ground, eyes darting around your surroundings. This... looked a lot like a series you liked.

You look down at your body, your clothes that you were wearing before were still on but dirty. You try to keep focused and look around your surroundings. Only to freeze when predatory eyes locked on you.

A dragon, straight from the series you enjoy, growls down at you. Adrenaline surges through your body as you quickly scurry backwards. The dragon backs you to a stone rock with a growl.

Great, you just got here by some sort of means unknown to you and you were going to die. Your life was going to end and you would have no idea why. You can't fight a literal dragon.

You make yourself look as small as possible, preparing to roll out of the way of a blow if you could. Before you could you felt the heat of a blast hit the dragon. Said dragon screeches before backing off.

You quickly turn to see another dragon and a rider. On closer look... your mouth shoots open. That's... you know them!

Hiccup and Toothless.

The Night Fury and his rider manage to drive the dragon off with some precise plasma bolts. The heat washes over you and you feel the urge to sweat. You hold your breath when the dragon flies off, but Toothless gaze swaps to you.

"I've never seen you before..." The rider, Hiccup, asks you. His gaze sweeps over your clothes in curiosity. It was nothing compared to his leather armor. "What kind of place wears something like that?"

You can only look at him with the expression of a fearful animal. You can barely breathe with the Night Fury staring you down. This... was reality.

"You don't look like you know how to tame a dragon, either... it's not safe here." Hiccup tells you, getting off of Toothless. "Can I get your name?"

You give the viking your name and he says it back to you. You can tell the name feels foreign to him when he says it but he makes not comment. He looks you over again before introducing himself. The name is familiar to you, of course, as in your world this is all fiction.

"Let's talk more somewhere safer. Last thing we need is a wild dragon attacking you again." He asks for your hand and you hesitantly take it.

Safe to say the first dragon ride on Toothless isn't easy on you.

----

When you were brought to Dragon's Edge you were quickly met with the feeling that your new life wouldn't be easy. When Hiccup mentioned to his friends that he brought someone new there was immediate backlash. Your "warm welcome" was more akin to an interrogation, really.

You couldn't blame them. They were all just as scared as you. But that didn't stop you from cowering behind Hiccup whenever their tones got aggressive.

Hiccup became a big help to you. He helped you give information to their questions without feeling overwhelmed. Answering questions was still difficult even without their aggression, however.

You told them all what you could. You told them your name, your world, and how you woke up. You answered when asked but it appears it didn't get much of anywhere.

You were still an enigma.

The questions they asked often involved your clothes, your knowledge on dragons, and/or your heritage. You answered what you could and tried to tiptoe around the idea of their world being fake where you came from.

You knew everyone's names but you acted as if you didn't to not freak them out. One by one, Hiccup introduced you to his friends. It felt bittersweet, on one hand you liked that you could meet your favorite characters... although...

You wonder if you'll ever go home.

It soon becomes clear that you will need somewhere to go. Since you are not aware of your surroundings you have nowhere to go. When Hiccup brings up allowing you to say in Dragon's Edge there is some hesitancy.

Tension is heavy in the air at the idea of allowing someone they have no idea about staying. Although, you thank Hiccup for helping y0ur case as he manages to convince his fellow vikings enough to allow it. He'd keep an eye on you and make sure you don't try anything.

He doubts your dangerous but anything to make them happy.

This begins your life in this world. A small hut is built for you and you're left to get to know your companions. The idea of adapting to this world is stressful, even with help.

Hiccup becomes your guide on the Edge. He helps you speak to others, he helps you with Astrid pick out clothing more akin to this area, and you are taught about training dragons.

Without Hiccup you doubt you could adapt to your situation. You're happy to have someone like him help you, along with his friends even if you are still uneasy about them. They all make your new life easier.

You still wish you could go home, however....

----

Since you began living at Dragon's Edge you've gotten along with your neighbors. You've spoken to many of the dragon riders and helped tend to their dragons. There's even talk of getting your own dragon. You always decline the offer, fearing that means your stay is permanent.

Part of you felt indebted to Hiccup. He saved you... ever since you've been friends. Even when you feel closed off, Hiccup comes in to help you adapt.

You've learned a lot from him, your friend. He's taught you about countless dragons to prevent how you met from happening a again. He taught you how to fish, he taught you basic combat even if it usually resulted in you falling over.

You and Hiccup seemed to have good chemistry. It wasn't necessarily in the romantic sense, but you two got along well. You felt you could rely on him... and Hiccup always seems so eager to help.

He was never aggressive with you. He always asked you gently about anything, like if you recall anything from before your time here. He's always eager to listen about you.

Hiccup encourages you to take a dragon of your own yet you always tell him no. You still have faith you'll get home someday. You never planned to stay too long.

From what you can tell this doesn't affect Hiccup much. Although it's possible you just don't see the cloudy look in his eyes. All you want is to go home... even if it is nice here.

"It's been months since you came here, it would be safer if you had a dragon." Hiccup had pulled you aside in private one day, flying you to a private part of the island. He was always concerned about your safety due to the Dragon Hunters. It was one of the reasons he rarely left your side too long and always asked to help.

"I've said this time and time again, Hiccup. If I got a dragon, I'll get attached. This isn't my home." You sigh, looking off at the water longingly. This world was beautiful yet home was home.

"I know..." He sighs deeply, looking over at you. "What if you never go home, though? What if I'm not around to protect you until then?"

You give Hiccup a saddened look. Hiccup's stressed expressions softens when he sees this but he looks away. You understand... he's being a good guy, that's all!

"Look... I'm just saying getting you home could be years from now. We have no idea how you got here... we know even less about bringing you back!"

Tears collect in your eyes and you nod. He had a point, even if you hated to agree. You had already gotten to be good friends with every body. A dragon would only prove useful.

At the same time... it feels like it would only chain you to this world.

Hiccup picks up on your silence and shaking body. You pause when he pulls you next to him and holds your face. He scans over your tears and wipes them away with care.

"I understand you want to go home..." He acts like it hurts to say it. "Surely you must understand it's dangerous around here, right? I'll train a dragon for you... just for your protection. Please think of the benefits until we learn how to bring you home?"

You don't have much of a choice. You're left speechless at Hiccup's sudden action to pull you closer and your thoughts jumble together. You look at his eyes and huff.

"... If you say it's what's best for me, I trust your judgment, Hiccup. You are my closest friend, after all."

Hiccup smiles and pulls away. Something feels off but you can't figure out what. You just... weren't expecting such an action from him-

"Great. Let's pick one for you soon... thanks for considering."

His smile is contagious....

"Sure... no problem...."

----

Dragon training isn't easy. Despite this... after little over a year of knowing Hiccup you managed to become close with a Silver Phantom. The dragon was large, fast, yet shy with humans.

They were troubling to train, yet you managed because Hiccup urged you to.

Hiccup urged you to do a lot since you met him.... You felt he was going it because he knew how this world worked. Although now that you had a dragon protecting you... he should back off, right?

Apparently that was not the case. Hiccup still visited you just as often. You adored your Silver Phantom, you adored your now growing hut, and you adored your new friends.... Thoughts of home still lingered in the back of your mind but they slowly faded away as time passed.

You couldn't blame yourself...

You were probably never making it back.

Why would you want to go back now? You had Hiccup, your best friend... and you had your dragon! They were all you really needed now.

Your modern clothes were long since discarded. You had gotten used to viking attire now anyways. Anything that reminded you of your past life was tossed aside.

... was there any point in going home?

It's not like Hiccup brought up any development on it. All he did was stick around you and help you out. You... even began to grow attached the longer you stayed here.

Hiccup had told asked you to not bring up your old home anymore. As he kept saying, who knows when you'll get back? For now... isn't here your home?

Think about it... you've accomplished so much here. You became a dragon rider, you gained so many friends, aren't you thriving here? Plus, leaving would hurt by now wouldn't it?

It's exactly as you feared.

You were in this deep. All thanks to Hiccup's words and comforting advice. You'd think he was doing it all on purpose.

He wouldn't though... right? Hiccup is your best friend. He just wants what's best for you. He... makes you feel comfortable.

He's quickly becoming the one thing that makes you happy in this world...

... maybe you don't want to leave anymore.

----

Hiccup couldn't hide the grin on his face. It took time, but with some well placed manipulation he managed to make you stay. Truthfully, Hiccup didn't know if he could bring you back home.

Yet... why go back? Clearly this was your home now. It was already approaching your second year here and you appear to be thriving.

Hiccup had a huge part in it. He made you a confident viking despite your differences. Your Silver Phantom, Jetstream, had also been a big part in making you stay. Now you didn't want to leave.

Part of Hiccup knows he should feel bad for what he did. He took advantage of you and manipulated your mind into relying on him. Now you clung around him all the time.

You two could possibly even start dating if he pushed a bit farther.

That was an opportunity for another time. All Hiccup really cared about was keeping you here with him at Dragon's Edge. When he first met you... he felt there was something about you.

Maybe it was the mystery that brought him in? He wasn't sure... all he knew was you felt nice to be around. Even when you hid behind him... he felt a strong attachment to you.

Now it's been years. It feels like he's known you for longer. Your past may be foggy to him, but now you're an entirely different person! A person he's had a hand in making.

It felt... nice for you to slowly care for him more than your old home. Again, how wrong of him to say, he can't help it.... He's surprised you never questioned him.

Hiccup will admit he's been obsessive about you since he met you. To the point he follows you sometimes and... watches you when you're unaware. Jetstream catches him at times which causes him to leave, however.

Hiccup prefers to keep you blissfully unaware of his obsession. He's already gotten you to the point you like Dragon's Edge as your home. Far as he knows, from now on, the Edge could be your home forever...

Then you could stay with Hiccup, forever.

Hiccup is... happy that your home is long gone from your mind now. It just means you've accepted the truth, as dark as it sounds.

You're meant to be here, don't you see?

You're meant to be here with him, forever as his.

[i-am-a-reunion-soldier]

dude i saw this hot liberi goth girl at the gamestore right. so being the smooth bastard i was i tapped her on the shoulder and she turns around and hes a him oh my god. anyways i swing both ways so then the conversation goes:

me: *uses a liberi pickup line*

him (verbafuckingtim): Although your praise pleases me greatly, my appearance is oft mistaken for a Liberi - a Banshee Sarkaz, that I am.

me (no idea what a banshee is, confused as fuck and ignoring all the warning bells about the devils): ...shit cool so can I get ur number

and like so i got it but also he's a sarkaz????? like devils aint that common and they're supposed to be bloodthirsty and rude and nasty but oh god he's so pretty and his voice was silky smooth and he was paying for a copy of Burdenbeast Crossing so like?????

he works at that pharmacy company u told me abt. his number was on this business card and everything. idk why he got such a cool gamer tag but like. yeah. hottest sarkaz ive ever seen

I got this ask all the way back when I was stranded in Sargon, and decided to save it for later when I was in a better headspace

well I gotta say I'm currently in the best mindset I've ever been in in years and I still dont know where to even begin with this one

[whencyclopedia]

Kaskians

The Kaska or Kaskians were a tribe of the Pontus, northern Anatolia (today's Turkey), around the Kizil Irmak river mouth, bordering on and constantly harrasing the Hittite empire. That area is mostly mountainous in nature, and there the Kaska occupied simple settlements which presumably formed a loose confederation.

The first recorded appearance of the Kaska in history was during the reign of Hantili I (c. 1590 BCE - 1560 BCE), when they conquered territory including the holy city of Nerik. The city could not be put back under Hittite control until two centuries later.

The Kaska repeatedly penetrated Hittite lands, but never with a permanent occupation, except for the area around Nerik city, which was the gateway between Kaskan and Hittite territories. During Tudhaliya's reign, a major Kaska invasion -maybe concurrently with attacks from other Hittite enemies - led to the brief occupation of the Hittite's capital city, Hattusa, which was burned to the ground (c. 1380 BCE).

The Hittites in turn directed many punitive campaigns against the Kaska territory throughout their history, never being able to subjugate the area. Much of Mursili II's reign (c. 1321 BCE - 1295 BCE), one of the Hittite's greatest kings, was devoted to campaigns against the Kaska. Mursili stated that in his time there was a Kaskan leader called Pihhuniya who acted as king of the Kaska, something never seen before in Kaskan affairs. Occasionally the Hittites and the Kaska chiefs were able to settle treaties of peaceful coexistence, as was the case under Hittite king Arnuwanda I.

The Kaska joined other invaders from afar, the Sea Peoples and the Phrygians, in the final collapse of the Hittie empire c. 1200 BCE. After that, and since Hittite records are our main source about the Kaska, we lose track of them; they fade away as the general political and ethnic landscape in Anatolia changed. They are, however, referenced in the neighbouring Assyrian empire somewhat later, who's king Tiglath-Pileser (c. 1112 BCE - 1072 BCE) fought against Kaskan forces. The last reference to the Kaska comes from the time of the Assyrian king Sargon II around 700 BCE, who also fought them.

Continue reading...

[thescarlettbitch]

Inanna / Ishtar Queer History <3

In my recent masterpost on Inanna, I forgot a major part of her story, and rather than just tack it on as an after thought, I figure I'd make a whole post.

First and foremost, Inanna has always been a feminine goddess, but more than just feminine, she was also seen as the god who could change someone's sex, and wears the armor of a man in most depictions.

Because of this, her cult of followers was predominantly people outside of the binary. She had transgender and "drag" prostitutes working as her priests and priestesses, who often had sex with each other as a ritual to the goddess, regardless of biological sex. Her high priestess would mate with new kings to ensure their fortune, and her other "lesser" priests and priestesses were musicians, singers, and dancers.

Though it is disputed whether or not these prostitutes actually engaged in sex, or if it was symbolic, there were men who started dressing in feminine clothing and using the feminine only dialect, and women assuming the masculine. The "male" would castrate themselves, and were known as Kurgarra, and "female" were known as Galatur. Both were seen as being transformed by the goddess herself, or being created by the god Enki to rescue Inanna from the underworld (see the Descent Of Inanna).

She has always been a young woman, she has never been mythologically depicted as a mother figure or a faithful wife. She has always been true to herself, regardless of how she will be perceived by anyone, especially men.

Despite eventually the ancient civilization succumbing to a patriarchal society, they were not always. Not to say the roles were perfectly equal, or that it was originally a matriarchy, but eventually many female deities turned to male. Inanna managed to withstand this, surviving as the Akkadian Ishtar, the Hittite Suarte, and the Phoenician Astarte. This decline in femininity started with the rule of Hammurabi. Before this, they had significant female deities, and they seemed to have a vast understanding of femininity with the variety of deities, and having one (Inanna) with such a bold personality.

Within her mythology, she is brash, independent, vindictive, impulsive, but also calculating and manipulative. In Inanna and The God of Wisdom, Inanna purposefully goes to Enki with the intention of stealing the Meh, and then purposefully gets him drunk so that he will be compliant, and eventually she becomes Queen. In the Descent of Inanna she has her husband imprisoned in her stead after she finds him with other women when he should've been mourning, and then later decides she misses him, so she forces his sister to take his place for half the year so that she can have him back. Inanna made people want to serve her because of who she was, not what she had to offer, that's why she survived.

She has had multiple lovers throughout mythology, including her husband Dumuzi, but also Sargon of Akkad, and Zababa.

Despite being a highly sexual goddess, her assailant in Inanna and Su-Kale-Tuda is not seen as a lover. In fact, he was regarded as a coward, and her level of consent was never in question. A goddess fell asleep beneath a tree and a human man saw her and assaulted her. And then he hid. He ran away and he hid. And she reigned terror down on the world until she found him and killed him, telling him that he will be forever be remembered as a coward. Not once did anyone say that she was asking for it. Not once did anyone ask what she was wearing. Not once did anyone say that she has sex all the time. It was seen as divine justice for a heinous crime.

[m1male2]

#Curiosities

Naram Sin Stele (2250 BC) Akkadian Period #Mesopotamia.

Made of sandstone, it has a height of 2.02 m and a width of 1.05 m.

It is a narrative relief, it tells of the victory of the Akkadian king Naram Sin against a people of the Zagros Mountains, the Lullabi. The victorious king, of enormous size, wearing a helmet with horns (divine attributes), crushes his enemies with his foot while he kills two others. The divinities Ishtar and Sin are represented at the top of the mountain observing and protecting the king.

The Akkadian empire will extend approx. between 2335 and 2154 BC, a period in which only five kings reigned. Its founder will be Sargon the Great (Sharrum-Kin) (2334-2279 BC), whose birth closely resembles that of Moses. Sargon was the son of a priestess who had to remain a virgin and his father was unknown. To hide the sin, his mother placed him in the river in a basket with such luck that he was picked up by a palace cupbearer who raised him as her own son and learned the trade of gardener. From there to becoming king...

“My mother was a high priestess, I didn't know my father. (…) My mother high priestess conceived me, she secretly gave birth to me. She left me in a reed basket, with bitumen she sealed the lid. She threw me into the river, which rose above me. The river carried me and she carried me to Akki the water bearer. Akki the water bearer took me as his son and raised me. Akki the water bearer appointed me his gardener. Although I was a gardener, Ishtar granted me her love, and for four (…) years I have exercised the monarchy.”

Assyrian text from the 7th c. BC, which presents the autobiography of Sargon of Akkad.

You can see the Stele in the Louvre Museum, Paris.