#museums are temples to muses

[greenthena]

Best part about writing fiction is when a new character appears. When I sat down this morning, I didn't know this guy. But now he's an integral part of the narrative. Always been there, in fact. I just hadn't met him yet.

[siriplaymastery]

The personifications of a Province found in the Temple of Hadrian from the 2nd century CE, now at the Capitoline museums in Rome.

#province #hadrian #roman #temple #empire #archeology #romanhistory #romansculpture #roman #romanart #antique #antiquity #rome #roma #rom #romanempire #ancientromansculpture #ancientsculpture #art #museum #classical #classics #sculptures #museum #artofinstagram #sculpture #sculptureoftheday #history #musée

[the-offside-rule]

Steven Grant (Moonknight) - Quiet

Random stories of my own character and how she came to be avatar of Anubis and Set

Divine Intervention Series

Warnings: mentions of death, manipulation

The noise of London’s busy streets did little to distract Y/N from the constant whispers in her mind. Set, the Egyptian god of chaos and storms, had been relentless since Daniel’s betrayal; the same Daniel who sacrificed her to Set, binding her as his avatar. The irony stung as sharp as the betrayal itself. Daniel, her once-beloved boyfriend, had promised love and protection, only to hand her over to a god as an offering. Now, her mind was a battlefield, and Set’s cruel taunts were a constant reminder. "Even Daniel didn’t want you. He chose to die over you. Be grateful, little one. At least I made something of you." Y/N’s hands balled into fists in her pockets as she crossed the street. “Shut up.” She muttered under her breath. “You’re not helping.”

"Helping? You’d be nothing without me." Set hissed. "Remember that when you're staring into the abyss." And as if the universe had a twisted sense of humor, Anubis, the god of death and funerary rites, had also chosen her to be his host. His voice, though less cruel than Set’s, often spouted philosophical musings about life, death, and the purpose of suffering. Today, it grated on her nerves more than usual. "Death is inevitable, yet it frees us. Perhaps your grief is not meant to be overcome, but embrace." Anubis whispered, his tone always calm but distant. “Oh, that’s just great.” She muttered, shaking her head. “Now I’m getting a life lesson from a talking dog man-”

As the chaos in her mind swirled, Y/N found herself standing in front of the British Museum, the large banners advertising a new exhibition catching her eye: The Gods of Egypt. She paused, her breath catching slightly. Perhaps here, in this collection of ancient artifacts and legends, she could find some understanding of the two gods who had bound themselves to her soul. With a deep breath, she stepped inside. As soon as she entered, she bumped into a man with disheveled brown hair and an innocent, almost awkward smile. His accent was soft, endearing in a way that immediately made her feel a bit more at ease.

“Oh, sorry!” Y/N exclaimed, taking a step back. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” The man smiled kindly, adjusting the tote bag slung over his shoulder. “No worries! Happens all the time around here.” He gave a slight, shy chuckle. “You here for the exhibit?” He asked. “Yeah.” Y/N replied, glancing toward the entrance of the exhibit. “Are you the tour guide?” His face lit up, then dimmed just as quickly. “Oh, no, no, I’m not. I, uh, I’d love to be, though. Really know my stuff when it comes to ancient Egypt, but, you know, my boss… she’s, uh, not too keen on the idea.” Y/N smiled softly, nodding. “Well, maybe one day she’ll come around. I’ll let you get back to it, but if I need any help, maybe I’ll come find you later.” The man, Steven Grant, smiled warmly, nodding. “Sure thing! I’m Steven, by the way. Steven Grant.”

“Y/N.” She replied, before offering a small wave and heading into the exhibit.

As she wandered through the halls, Set’s voice continued to grate at her nerves, criticizing the very essence of her existence, reminding her of Daniel’s betrayal, and insisting that she owed her life to him. Anubis, meanwhile, offered cryptic riddles about sacrifice and the balance of life and death. Her eyes landed on a series of hieroglyphics, their meanings escaping her despite her best efforts to focus. Her fingers traced the carvings, frustration building inside her. “You alright there?” Steven’s voice startled her from her thoughts. Y/N looked over to see him standing a few feet away, a concerned look on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but you seemed a bit lost.” He said, offering her a gentle smile. She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, just… these hieroglyphics. I don’t really understand them.”

Steven’s face lit up again, his enthusiasm palpable. “Oh! I can help with that.” He stepped closer, glancing over the inscriptions. “These talk about Set and Anubis, actually. Pretty fascinating stuff. Set, god of chaos, and Anubis, god of the afterlife. Quite a duo.” Y/N bit her lip, trying not to let the mention of the gods who haunted her daily life show on her face. “Yeah, fascinating.” She muttered. Steven’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “They say Set could be quite manipulative, you know? Always out for power. And Anubis, well, he’s a bit more complex. He wasn’t just about death—he was about guiding souls, helping them find peace.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by how much Steven seemed to understand these ancient gods. In his presence, the oppressive weight of Set’s cruel words seemed to ease, and even Anubis’s constant musings faded into the background. “You seem to know a lot about them.” She said, genuinely curious. Steven blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I’ve always been fascinated by Egyptian mythology. Studied it for years. I suppose it’s my passion, really.” Y/N smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. “Well, it’s nice to meet someone who understands this stuff. Maybe I’ll ask you to help me with more of it.”

Steven’s reflection in a nearby glass display shifted ever so slightly. Behind him, Marc Spector’s face appeared for a moment, a teasing grin on his lips. “Seems like you’ve got a fan.” Marc quipped. Steven blinked, looking away quickly as if trying to avoid the reflection. But then another voice chimed in, more mischievous Jake Lockley. “Let me take over for a bit, güey.” Jake said, his tone dripping with charm. “She is exactly my type.” Steven shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Not a chance.”

Y/N didn’t notice his internal struggle, instead focusing on the relief of having a normal conversation for the first time in what felt like months. She didn’t know yet how much they had in common, or that Steven’s life was just as complicated and chaotic as her own. For now, she simply felt grateful to have found a friend in the darkness. As Steven offered her more insights into the exhibit, Y/N found herself relaxing, the voices of the gods quieting ever so slightly. Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up.

For now, she’d take the peace where she could find it. Even if it was fleeting.

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Drawing the most complicated piece yet for the bugs— and I've got a silly question :3

(Putting a divider because this is too long–)

For those who aren't on the server ^^! The bug manor is this place in the middle of space where all the sentient bugs chill out. It has what a normal manor has.

Now~ what would your bug's role be in this manor? (IE: fighter, spy, cook, therapist, gardener, peacekeeper, healer etc. You can also add other roles! It's not limited to these ^^!)

Some rooms we've decided are canon in the manor because why not are—

-other then the essential rooms (kitchen, bedrooms, etc) we've got:

1. Art museum

2. Greenhouse

3. Training grounds

4. oo many laundry

5. A huge library— one with archives dedicated to each universe.

6. Temples for the muse bugs to recharge in

7. A lost and found in like, every room.

8. Fishing doc and a sun room cuz why not

9. Movie theater to watch the canon events play out and sob

10. A clinic because goodness are some of you reckless.

11. A room full of toys 'n ither stuff for all the baby bugs to hang out in

12. The bug manor is basically like Casita from Encanto! It moves by command 'n all that ^^

13. A planetarium, it can be used for anything really— whether it be stargazing or meetings.

some HCs we've made on the server

-These rooms are for all the bugs, not just a few. Sharing is caring.

-No one knows who's clothes are who's. They all accidentally put their clothes in the same washing machine, and it started from there. Only way you could tell is by the size.

-each bug has their own assigned rooms and portal to their universe. And all the rooms fit the Bug’s personal style, like with styalized four-posters and desks

-Everyone has their own personal snack cabinets

-betray the bugs and you are getting kicked the fuck out

-yes you have actual official therapists that aren't other bugs, that way your bugs can get help. Therapists are— Salma (Lynette's mom) and Amaria

-other stuff idk.

Oh! If you wanna, you can also add other rooms and HCs about the manor ^^

Tags:

@willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @tiefling-chaos @redcated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @itsargyle @not-5-rats @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @megapugman @reefhastoomanyaccs @kaydenskiwi @greaysharkboi @itzscribz @blingzyya @headstrashdump @gatorboys22 @drowziestar @howdyimmaia

Oh and! An WIP of what I got cooking up for the manor :3

'kay that's all-

[anticidic]

ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE

Musings of what becomes of broken-hearted Beast!Chuuya, as told by museum guide!Dazai. 512 words. Minor mentions of blood. And your usual BEAST angst.

A man's eternal madness. A tale of grief and how hateful of a beast it can be, shredding the very soul.

He cleared his throat and fixed his bowtie. A crowd stood before him, waiting with bated breath.

"And this—the last piece—this is a man who knew little tenderness in life. Life can be cruel; bad things happen to good people all the time, but sometimes the cruelest thing is to be left alive, and no one is there to see what remains of you."

Dazai removed his earpiece and stepped back, glancing at the painting from the corner of his eye. Blood drizzled down the canvas. Silvery shining shackles bound the subject to his eternal fate, and here he laid to rest in a museum for others to tilt their heads at and speculate what became of this poor man and how long it would take until his life, too, had been snuffed out like all the ones before.

A story remembered in snapshots by all but the one who suffered through its past, present, and future: steel that was cold to the touch burning on the inside with a mixture of hope and fear. Hope that the cold of the metal pressed against one's temple would bring solace. Fear that, though the heart would stop beating, the soul would continue to suffer. And it did, so the story went. The painting screamed about an attempt into a void that did not respond. Then, silence. There was desperation there—in that silence. A cornered animal looking for a way out. In some kind of strange, semi-catatonic state. What remained of the man glared back at Dazai with a mouthful of blood ready to be spat at the foot.

Remained. Because this man had eaten himself alive after being cast away to a forgotten cell once he grew tired of all the screaming. He screamed for hours, days, from night to dawn, and no one came. He willed away the dread, even as the shadows grew around him and danced in his vision, seeking the last shred of his humanity to lay claim upon and leave behind a wailing ghost of a man who sobbed and knew not why. Just that the pain in his heart would not cease.

Eyes once blue and crystal clear no longer held anyone inside. No one was home in that look.

The subject was a confused young man and a death in the heart eating his mind. There were no stars. There was no light. There would be no future. Only this, frozen in time, where he remained, incessantly, brutally—utterly without redemption or hope.

“Excuse me,” a young woman spoke up, timid, biting her lip, unsure whether to continue gazing at the painting because doing so seemed disrespectful.

“Yes?”

“What became of this man?”

Smiling to himself, Dazai closed his eyes briefly and turned to face the painting. He could withstand the subject’s glorious assault even if it, too, made him ache with an unknown feeling. Silly. He made himself sick over paintings lost to time and it was all just part of the job.

“Love did him in. It was love all along.”

[newyorkshq]

welcome to the monthly schedule! each month, the admins will put together a list of events/activities happening around the city to help you find ways to throw your muses into interactions! we will also be taking event suggestions on the main!

under the cut you will find the monthly schedule for november 2024

feeding america food drive (all month long!) feeding america will be doing a month-long food drive, all donations can be dropped off at libraries throughout the city, as well as the LGBTQ center in Brooklyn. Volunteers needed!

diwali gala @ the moma (november 4th) to celebrate the festival of lights, the hindu temple society of north america is throwing a diwali gala at the moma on november 4th. come eat traditional foods, watch dance and music presentations, and more! all proceeds go to the hindu temple society of north america.

book club @ ink and ivory (november 17) this is a monthly event! ink and ivory host a monthly book club, check the website for the book of the month! this month is a mind spread out on the ground by alicia elliott

the new york marathon (nov 3) put on your running shoes and take part in the worlds largest marathon (or grab a warm drink and cheer the runners on from the sidelines!)

macys thanksgiving day parade (nov 28)The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is an annual parade in New York City presented by the U.S.-based department store chain Macy's. The Parade first took place in 1924, wake up early, grab a coffee and grab your spot, because it will surely get crowded!

ice skating at rockafeller center (all month)Ice skating on The Rink under the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree is one of New York’s quintessential winter activities. The Rink sets the perfect scene for every occasion, from special events to the Après Skate Chalets presented by Balsam Hill. It’s a tradition that has never failed to delight, and you’re always invited to join in on the fun.

broadway under the stars Broadway Under The Stars is a five-week series of FREE indoor Broadway performances. 2024 will mark the 10th year of Broadway and the Shops at Columbus Circle teaming up to host Broadway Under The Stars. The performances will take place on the second floor of the Time Warner Center!

native american heritage month spotlight at the American Museum of Natural History (all month long) while the native American heritage exhibit is up all year long, the AMNH is putting a special spotlight on it this month, with guest speakers and presentations throughout the month.

speed dating at wine about it (nov 15th) it's officially cuddle weather, and if you're still looking for that person to cozy up with, or bring home for the holidays, stop on by to wine about it for the speed dating series! each participant gets one month free for the wine about it wine club as well!

[blueguitar]

“FAME”

or DAVID BOWIE GETS A HEADACHE

          He's in the penthouse suite of a fine Manhattan hotel. Is 1990 palpably different from 1989?  Not at 3 AM, it isn't.  David Bowie wears a deep blue paisley sari, lounges on an enormous bed canopied like a tent in the desert.  He plays atonal minor key riffs on his saxophone while the film, “My Life As A Dog” plays soundlessly on the television. He has an excruciating headache.

     Headaches, these days, are an unusual occurrence for David Bowie.  He has long since kicked his cocaine habit and now only rarely drinks – an occasional well-chilled Stolichnaya.  The last time he smoked a joint, even, was two years ago with the jazz musician, Wayne Shorter, backstage at the Blue Note.  David's new regimen is Tai Chi, meditation, and a near-scrupulous vegetarian diet. (Though he finds it hard to say no to wild Alaskan salmon... )

     He gets up from the bed and walks into a frankly shockingly HUGE bathroom - all mirrors and black marble.  He opens the medicine cabinet and pokes around.  His favorite herbal remedy – some concoction of valerian root and kava-kava is not there to be found. He returns to the bedroom and digs through a leather satchel he always keeps near-by.  Inside, there are undershirts, briefs, some postcards from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, his notebook, an airplane bottle of Stoli, a copy of the I Ching and a slim volume of poems by Emily Dickinson, a broken Movado watch, CD's by Mingus and Coltrane, Lou Reed's latest (“Ehh.”), letters from Iman. And at the bottom of all this, he finds it.  A small blue bottle.  He opens it and shakes the bottle over his open palm, leaving nothing but a fine white dust that reminds him of years ago.  He licks his palm and mutters, “Damn.”

     His head is pounding, pounding, though and prompts a peculiar idea – an aspirin!  Why not?  It's not like he'd make a habit of it. Aspirin. It's for headaches, right?  He goes to the phone and presses “1” for the concierge's desk.  It's answered in two rings and David Bowie asks the concierge if there might be a bottle of aspirin that could be sent to his suite?  And the concierge answers, “I'm sure of it, sir.  Right away!”

     David flops back onto the bed and waits. Less than a minute passes and the phone rings back.  He answers and the concierge is telling him that he is very sorry, but that the hotel appears to be out of aspirin and that usually, he would run to the store just halfway down the block, but at this hour, he's the only man on shift and he can't leave his desk...

     David asks cautiously, “There's a chemist on this block?”

     And the concierge says, “Yes, sir! There's an all-night drugstore only two doors down from the hotel.”

     “Well, thank you, anyway,” Bowie replies and hangs up the phone.

     Well, that's it, then. I'll just go down to the store and buy a bottle of aspirin.  People do that sort of thing all the time, don't they? he muses.  He takes off his sari and puts on a pair of blue jeans and an undershirt.  He thinks of his leather jacket in the walk-in closet, but thinks it's a tad conspicuous. Besides, it's unusually warm in the city tonight.  He grabs this non-descript windbreaker he reserves for these occasions.  Heading for the door, he almost forgets his sunglasses, but he goes back for them.

     In the elevator, he presses “L” and then, his slender fingers to his temples and then, leans back closing his eyes.

     The walk to the store is uneventful.  Even in New York City, there are times when no one else is around.  As he walks into the drug store, he hears, surprisingly, his own song, “Fame” being mutilated by some orchestra on the Muzak.  He chuckles at that.

     He never fails to be amazed by American convenience – so completely unlike his native England.  Even in London, one would be hard-pressed to find an open chemist at 3 in the morning.  And here? They have everything! Food. Envelopes. Magazines. Umbrellas. Teddy bears. David wonders who might buy a Teddy bear at 3 in the morning?  Or a hammer and nails?  Then he wonders, where do you suppose the keep the aspirin...

     He wanders up one aisle, down the next.  In the magazine aisle, again, he has a close call.  A young man catches his eye and looks at him long and hard, the look says “Where do I know you from?” But then he picks up a copy of “Vibe” and heads for the register, without a word.

     There are a second row of aisles in the back he just now notices... and soon,he finds what he wants.  Row upon row upon row of it!  Bowie marvels at the choice! Tylenol, Alleve, Motrin, Nuprin, Orudis. Do they even still make aspirin? But, it's there! Slightly dusty boxes of bottles of Bayer Aspirin. He takes one and heads to the front of the store.

     And on the way there?  He grabs a couple bottles of cranberry juice, a copy of “Vanity Fair”, and a Teddy bear!  He's somewhat startled at first when he pulls it off the shelf, and it begins singing the first few lines of “Are You Lonesome, Tonight?” in a tinny, digital piping.

     He puts his purchases on the counter and says, “I'd like to buy these things.”

     And the girl behind the register, turns to him and says, “Wow! What an amazing accent!  Are you Australian?”

[yell0wsalt]

For the intimacy prompts: Hukki #11 and/or #17?

Hi :) Thanks for the prompt! First time trying Hukki, so this was exciting!

#11. Kisses littered all over the face.

#17. That soft exhalation of adoring laughter leaving Character B’s mouth after kissing Character A

__

At the top of the stone steps on Air Temple Island, Ikki sat with her chin in her hands, and let out a heavy sigh.

A few seconds later, another sigh. This one being longer and heavier than the last.

“Oh my spirits, Ikki!” Off to the side sitting underneath the gazebo, Jinora slammed her book down in huff. “Do you mind? I am trying to read, and your moaning is bothering me!”

Perking up from resting her head in her hands, she turned to face her sister. “Oh you caught that?” Unapologetic as ever. 

Jinora fought to contain her eye roll. She settled for a pointed look of frustration.

“Anyways,” Ikki hopped up from her seat to make her way over to her sister. “Now that I have your attention…” A light hop falling into the cross legged position. “I could use your help.”

Resigned to the fact she won’t be able to continue her book until Ikki gets what she wants, Jinora marked her spot in her book and turned her focus to her sister.

“Fine then, what’s up?”

Ignoring the curt attitude, Ikki pressed on. “I don’t know what the deal is between me and Huan.”

“Deal?”

“Yeah. I mean I have no clue where we’re at. Are we girlfriend, boyfriend? Just friends? Casually dating? We’ve been on plenty of dates now, but nothing’s been made official. I don’t know if he likes me, likes me, if we’re just hanging out just because we’re here, or what?” She threw her arms up in frustration.

“Have you tried bringing this up to him?” 

Ikki looked at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me?! Me ask him? Spirits, that’s not how it goes in the romance books I’ve read, Jinora. Come on, I can’t do that!”

“So? There’s nothing wrong with you asking the guy to be their girlfriend.” 

“But Kai asked you to be his girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s true…” 

“And Huan is a man of few words, except when he’s talking about his art. Although I find it absolutely adorable when he gets lost in what he’s doing like that, I don't know if or when I could get an update on our relationship out of him.”

Jinora cracked a smile. “Yeah, a man of few words indeed,” she mused. “However, need I remind you Mom was the one who confessed to Dad first, so who’s to say you can’t do something similar?”

At that point, Ikki sat back and hummed, mulling over the idea. “You know, you’re right. Maybe I think I could do that. I could take the initiative.” As Ikki considered the idea more and more, the more she was enticed by the idea.

“Exactly, that’s that spirit.”

“Actually, Huan is taking me on a date this afternoon. He’s presenting a big sculpture that he’s been working on and I’m going to stop by and see what it looks like and show support.”

“You haven’t seen it yet?” Jinora raised a brow.

Ikki shook her head. “Nope! I knew he was working on something major, but when I asked to see what it was going to turn out like, he practically hissed at me, saying something along the lines of, ‘the beauty will be in the wait,’” she huffed.

Jinora laughed.

“Anyways,” she continued. “I’ll finally get to see what he has been working on. I’m thinking that sometime during our date, I’ll ask him.” 

Jinora nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds like a plan. Go on ahead and stick your chin out for your hopefully soon to be boyfriend!”

Ikki shuddered, pulling a face of disgust. “Okay, now you’re sounding too much like mom. Need you to stop that as soon as possible. Scary.”

Jinora tutted her tongue. “Whatever, get out of here and let me get back to my book.”

Hand raised in a mock salute. “Whatever you say. Gotta get ready anyways. Bye, sis!”

A silent wave goodbye.

****

Walking up to the Republic City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, Ikki sights were honed in on a familiar figure standing by the entrance and a wide smile grew.

Eyes narrowed, index and forefinger pinched his chin, Huan leaned forward in intense focus on the dual lion turtle stone sculptures at each side of the grand entrance. 

Ikki glided right to his side. “Hey, Huan. Well don’t you look nice.”

Huan stood up for a moment, turning towards the source of the voice. “Hello, Ikki. Come here, what do you think about these sculptures?” he resumed his position in contemplation.

She hummed. What do I think? Her brain started to feel smokey and the gears turned, coming up empty. “I… don’t really know,” she admitted.

Abruptly he stood up to face her once more. “Exactly!” 

“Exactly?” cocking her head to the side in question.

“The designs are uneven, proportions are off, and the sculpting medium doesn’t quite fit with the theme. It’s nothing, it’s everything. It makes no sense, but all the sense at the same time.” He gasped. “Remarkable.”

Ikki let out a dreamy sigh. 

“Are you ready to go in?”

“Hm? Oh- yes, let’s go. I can’t wait to see what you’ve been working on. This will be exciting!”

Going through the exhibit was... Decent. There were plenty of sculptures from other artists they were going through first and while her interest in the arts has grown as she’s gotten older and spent more and more time with Huan, well, those sculptures weren’t his.

With the myriad of sculpture displays and discussions, keeping up was proving to be a challenge but she was trying her best. 

“And finally–” 

Oh spirits, yes!

“This is the one I’ve been working on.”

Coming up to the statue, Ikki’s eyes widened in wonder.

A series of metal ribbons, long and short, wide and narrow, swirled around in an upward spiral. The spiralized ribbons weren’t solely a stiff column. In their own way they curved and flowed. Static and dynamic all the same. 

It made Ikki feel… connected.

“So,” Huan started. “What are you thinking?”

“Huan…” Slowly she turned to face him. “It’s remarkable. I love it.”

“You know..I based this sculpture off of you,” he softly admitted.

“Really?”

A small nod. He slowly reached to tuck loose hair behind her ear. “Your gray eyes, the way the color is captured in the light depending on the angle. Your bending, how beautiful and inspiring it is to see you flow like the breeze, dancing in the skies when you glide. The way your spirit is as bright as the sun. You have that positive effect on people. It’s inspiring.”

Ikki’s heart has never felt so full. “Huan... I guess that partially explains why I resonated so well with your sculpture. I- I don’t know what else to say.” 

“This was why I didn’t let you in on what I was working on for this exhibit. I wanted to surprise you.”

Ikki huffed a laugh. “Well, call me surprised. This is the sweetest thing I could have ever imagined that you’d do for me.” 

“And I- I hoped that once this exhibit was over. That this could be a present I may give to my… girlfriend?”

Time stood still for Ikki, hearing Huan's words. “Girlfriend? You did say girlfriend, right?”

Huan’s face turned a heated red and he nodded. 

A beat later, Ikki leapt into his arms, making Huan need to stagger back as he held her steady in his arms.

“Woah! Okay, Ikki–”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, tears of joy near welling up in her eyes. 

Eagerly she cupped Huan’s cheeks, peppering kisses all over his face. His forehead, eyes, nose, and lips. A tear broke free, dropping on his face.

“Hey!” A stern voice called from the other side of the room, pausing Ikki’s kisses.

The couple turned to find a random older woman glaring at them as though looks could kill. 

“This is a public place!” she scolded. “If the two of you are going to act like a bunch of hooligans, do it somewhere else!”

Ikki bristled, “Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am!”

Huan silently narrowed his eyes at her before muttering a small apology. 

Quickly Ikki turned away from the woman who stormed off in a huff, refocusing her attention to Huan and bearing a cheeky smile.

A singular kiss firmly pressed to Huan’s lips. She pulled away with a breathy laugh.

Huan joined in on her laugh, too.

“But yes. Yes, Huan, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Holding Ikki in his arms, Huan easily relaxed as his heart warmed. He thumbed the tears welling in his girlfriend’s eyes. “I’m so glad.”

__

Prompts here

[aimee-maroux]

It's #NationalBirdDay so I want to talk about birds in mythology. There are many stories from ancient Greece about mythological birds and half-bird creatures.

Birds of Ares

The Birds of Ares (Ornithes Areioi in ancient Greek) were a flock of arrow-feathered birds which the god had set to guard his sacred shrine on the Black Sea island of Dia, also called Ares' Island. It had been built by the Amazons, his daughters. The birds were encountered by the Argonauts in their quest for the Golden Fleece. The heroes raised their shields as a defence against the birds' deadly volleys of arrows and with a clash of shield and spear scared them away.

The Birds of Ares were sometimes identified with the Stymphalian Birds driven off by Herakles (see below).

Griffins

The Griphoi or Griffins is a hybrid creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. They guard a treasure of gold by the border to Hyperborea. Griffins were popular decorations in ancient Greek art, for example the helm of the statue of Athena Piraeus:

Source: Athens, Archaeological Museum of Piraeus © 2014. Photo: Ilya Shurygin.

Harpies

The Harpyiai or Harpies were depicted as winged women, sometimes with ugly faces, or with the lower bodies of birds. They were the spirits of sudden, dangerous gusts of wind and were sent by the gods to snatch up people and things from the dark earth. A missing person was said to have been snatched by the Harpies.

Hippalektryon

The Hippalektryon, literally "horse-cock" or "horse-rooster" (hippos = horse, alektryôn = cock) is a hybrid creature with the head and sometimes forelegs of a horse and the wings, tail and back-legs of a male chicken. @sigeel drew them most beautifully, tended to by Demeter and Persephone.

Phoenix

This bird is still well-known today through the saying "rising like a Phoenix from the ashes". It was said to resemble an eagle, with feathers partly red and partly golden. The Phoenix flies from Arabia to the Temple of the Sun (Ra) in Heliopolis in Egypt every 500 years to bury its father encased in myrrh. And there only is a father because the Phoenix begets itself. The tale of the Phoenix actually rising from its own ashes is related in a 4th century CE Roman text called "The Phoenix":

...the pyre conceives the new life; Nature takes care that the deathless bird perish not, and calls upon the sun, mindful of his promise, to restore its immortal glory to the world. Straightway the life spirit surges through his scattered limbs; the renovated blood floods his veins. The ashes show signs of life; they begin to move though there is none to move them, and feathers clothe the mass of cinders. He who was but now the sire comes forth from the pyre the son and successor; between life and life lay but that brief space wherein the pyre burned. His first delight is to consecrate his father's spirit by the banks of the Nile and to carry to the land of Aegyptus (Egypt) the burned mass from which he was born.

Sirens

The Seirenes or Sirens were depicted as birds with either the heads or entire upper bodies of women. They are well-known from the Odyssey for their enchanting song.

Lovely Terpsichore, one of the Muses, had borne them [the Sirens] to Akheloos, and at one time they had been handmaids to Demeter's gallant Daughter [Persephone], before she was married, and sung to her in chorus. But now, half human and half bird in form, they spent their time watching for ships from a height that overlooked their excellent harbour; and many a traveller, reduced by them to skin and bones, had forfeited the happiness of reaching home. Apollonios Rhodios, Argonautika 4.892

The shape of the Sirens, a bird with a woman's head, was popular as a vessel for perfumes and cosmetics.

Stymphalian Birds

The Stymphalian Birds were a flock of man-eating birds of prey which lived around Lake Stymphalis in Arkadia on the Peloponnese. Herakles had to deal with them for the sixth of his twelve labours:

Herakles was stumped by the problem of driving the birds out of the woods, but Athena got some bronze noise-makers from Hephaistos and gave them to him, and by shaking these from a mountain adjacent to the lake frightened the birds. Not enduring the racket, they flew up in fear, and in this manner Herakles reached them with his arrows. Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 2.92

The Stymphalian Birds were sometimes identified with the arrow-shooting Birds of Ares that were encountered by the Argonauts (see above).

According to Pausanias' Description of Greece there was also an old sanctuary of Stymphalian Artemis in Stymphalos and near the roof of her temple the Stymphalian birds had been carved.

Which is your favourite birb story from mythology?

[transgenderer]

museum (n.)

1610s, "the university building in Alexandria," from Latin museum "library, study," from Greek mouseion "place of study, library or museum, school of art or poetry," originally "a temple or shrine of the Muses," from Mousa "Muse" (see muse (n.)). The earliest use in reference to English institutions was of libraries for scholarly study (1640s); the sense of "building or part of a building set aside as a repository and display place for objects relating to art, literature, or science" is recorded by 1680s.

[lavender--milk]

🌞✨🏛️for the ask game!

Thank you so much for the ask! :D

🌞 - Which deity(ies) are you closest to/do you worship the most often?

I am definitely closest to Apollo! He was the first, and so far only, deity that I have worshipped. He has been a huge impact on my life :)

✨ - Do you believe in patron deities? If so, do you have any that you know of?

I definitely believe in them, but I don't think I have one, at least right now. To be honest, I haven't done a ton of research on the topic yet, and the stuff I have seen hasn't really given me a super direct definition of a patron deity, so I'm really not sure ^^; I think it would be super cool if Apollo was my patron, but I don't know how to tell if that would be the case

🏛️ - Do you have a favorite statue or temple to your deity(ies)? If yes, what is it?

I do! One of my absolute favourites is "Apollo mit dem getöten Python," sculpted by François Gaspard Adam. I just find it so so beautiful and almost ethereal. Also, the pose is really interesting to me. I don't quite know how to put it. I think a lot of the statues that I see of him are in a standing position, and this resting, sitting pose is a nice contrast to that I think

(Photography by Luminous Artefact and Steffen Heilfort respectively)

And also, there's another statue that I love. But it's like, way more of a mystery to me?? I am going to ramble a bit about it

I saw this photo captioned as "Apollo Citharoedus" and immediately fell in love with it.

I looked up the name, but aparrently (i think) "Apollo Citharoedus" is just a term for any statue of Apollo with a lyre. So I decided to reverse-image search it

But when I tried to find the original photographer of this specific image, not only could I not find them, but now I can't figure out if it's actually a statue of Apollo or not. See, some sources claim that it is him, but others say that it's actually a statue of one of the muses, and is part of a set of statues that includes one of Apollo.

But in the virtual tour of the museum where it is, it doesn't seem to be part of a set of anything specific?? Like it looks very individual

And I cannot even find the original name of the piece. The only things I know about it are that it's in a Vatican Museum, and that this statue is a Roman copy of a Greek original.

And also, I might just be really stupid, but to me personally, the statue looks super androgynous, so I can't even tell by trying to figure it out by gender.

I actually have zero idea. But I think it's a gorgeous statue either way <3

If you read this whole thing, you rock btw

[manderson1970060]

art arrives a river to my soul, open me up, cut me open, let my muse live again inside of me, and I exist for lost gods, statues in marble and bronze, a museum of only ancient memories, a living temple where the Earth still prays

[falseandrealultravival]

The etymology of MUSIC and various arts (Essay)

Of course, music in English means "music", but this name somehow reminds me of the muses in Greek mythology, the nine goddesses who are guardians of art. After doing some research, I found the following statement:

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

music

Many people think of music when they think of art. Music is a very familiar word for Japanese people, and its etymology goes back to the muse (musa) of Greek mythology. In other words, the origin of the word is the Greek word mousike, which means "human activities that partake of the grace of the Muses" (music, poetry, etc.).

On the other hand, the word museum, which means 'museum', is also derived from the Greek mouseion, which means 'temple of the Muses'. Also, when we say art museum in English, we think of it as an art museum, and this expression is naturally associated with muse. In other words, the three Japanese words ``music'', ``museum'', and ``art museum'' all have a common etymology when compared with the corresponding English expressions. is clear.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The above description has satisfied my curiosity, but to continue my association a little further, "art" does not necessarily follow "norms of life." Japanese Manga Artist: Osamu Tezuka's "Barbora:ばるぼら", the youngest daughter of a muse appears in front of the main character writer in the form of a homeless person, empowering his artistic creation. But on the other hand, "Barbora" was also a witch. Art has a guardian deity full of contradictions.

These facts are brilliantly explained by Nietzsche with the metaphor of "the Apollonian and the Dionysian". "Apollonian" means positivity, righteousness, strength, health, etc., and "Dionysian" means negativity, unrighteousness, weakness, unhealthy, etc. It is true that Apollo, the sun god, is a model student of the gods who are "unshaded and fair" (Zeus chose a goddess with a long history), but Dionysus is "a grape and a wine made from it." He is the god of wine, and he is a sly god who desires to drink to the point of intoxication, and his father is also Zeus. But mother is a human woman.

Comparing the two representative arts, music and painting, it seems that there are many Apollo-like works and composers in the genre of music. I don't often hear of people composing while drowning in alcohol. (Perhaps Berlioz, who composed the Symphony Fantasie, seems to be a rare example.) On the other hand, in the case of painters, I think there are many Dionysus-like people, including Utrillo, who was an alcoholic. In other words, although it seems that they do not drink in front of the staff paper, I think there are many painters who drink in front of the canvas.

…Nevertheless, the muse will lend strength to both arts (even if the vectors are opposite).

[a-typical]

But the greatest marvel of Alexandria was the library and its associated museum (literally, an institution devoted to the specialties of the Nine Muses). Of that legendary library, the most that survives today is a dank and forgotten cellar of the Serapeum, the library annex, once a temple and later reconsecrated to knowledge. A few moldering shelves may be its only physical remains. Yet this place was once the brain and glory of the greatest city on the planet, the first true research institute in the history of the world. The scholars of the library studied the entire Cosmos. Cosmos is a Greek word for the order of the universe. It is, in a way, the opposite of Chaos. It implies the deep interconnectedness of all things. It conveys awe for the intricate and subtle way in which the universe is put together. Here was a community of scholars, exploring physics, literature, medicine, astronomy, geography, philosophy, mathematics, biology, and engineering. Science and scholarship had come of age. Genius flourished there. The Alexandrian Library is where we humans first collected, seriously and systematically, the knowledge of the world.

Cosmos — Carl Sagan

[shermerclassclown]

@abeautifulmencgerie said: 𝓙𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓵 ー send 📖 for a journal entry my muse wrote about yours. (for steve)

Sheila hummed as she wrote in her journal--she didn't really do much writing since high school. 

Steve Rogers? How can I just describe him? He reminds me of Hercules--the Disney version. Not the Greek mythology version where his mom, Hera, makes him go crazy and he ends up killing his wife and decides to do the 12 Labours as his own form of self-punishment.

 Anywho, Steve--Wonder Boy--he’s this big, clumsy, awkward, hunky, blond dork who happens to have godlike strength. Don’t get me wrong, he’s really handsome and the ideal perfect man--but honestly, I wanna know more about the guy. More about his past--and just everything around it. 

I went to the Captain America museum--the history about him is interesting. I was surprised to see he was just his skinny little guy when he started--and I gotta admit. He was cute before. If I lived in his time, I would’ve talked to him--well, I probably would’ve dressed like Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird back then: overalls and boys’ clothes. 

Anywho--Steve. I’d like to know more about the man behind the shield. Behind all that Star-Spangled attire, who IS Steve Rogers? I’d like to know what movies he liked--like Snow White, movies with Shirley Temple, the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges. Oh! Music! I’d like to know what he liked--my grandparents played a lot of Bing Crosby, but that’s pretty much all I know. Just stuff about him growing up in Brooklyn--what did he like to do. Did he remember this part of history or that? I especially want to know his opinions about women--mainly Rosie the Riveter and all the women who took up jobs while the men went off to war. And what his opinions of women today--women working men’s jobs like in the military. 

Anywho, I am excited to hear it all from the man himself. 

[izairaiman]

I’m my own plug everything I need to succeed is within me a mf can’t say they put me on I put myself on stay woke negus 👁️🫳🏾💰 everything already inside of you fr fr … you want a bag baby 💵🤑you are the bag

You want a house treat yo temple like a home

You want to be an artist baby you the muse and museum

What ever you want to do in life go within first ..

#izairaiman