#ptolemy ic

[moonxsuncelestials]

Aftermath of Ptolemy (Part 2)

Hurts…Oh Gods it hurts so much… Amun sniffled quietly as hot tears ran down his cheeks. He looked over his shoulder as Ptolemy slept while Aloysius’s body continued to go through the process of decomposition.

This was his chance, it was now or never.

Carefully, the dragon climbed out of bed and ran for the mirror hidden within his sister’s quarters. But much to Amun’s horror, the mirror was shattered once he reached the inner sanctum of her chambers.

Just his luck! Now that the easier route was practically littered on the floor in small broken pieces, he had to find another way out of the palace without revealing his identity as a god. Tears ran down his face, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute as his mind tried to figure out another way to the God Realm. He hissed and fell to his knees, scraping them upon the shards, when he felt a nasty twinge in his lower back, more of Ptolemy’s semen dripping down his thigh. 

Gods his ass hurts! He needs to take a bath when he gets home. Scrub himself raw-anything to get Ptolemy’s scent off of him. 

Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the task: GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE. 

That was when he recalled a secret passage within the room. Of course, he can use that to get to the gardens!

But where-

Found it.

He bit his lip to keep himself from crying out as he forced himself to rise, piercing his bottom lip before stumbling towards the secret passageway. It took him a few seconds longer, but he managed to push in the stone that activated the door, and given his current state, he fell into the passageway’s corridor. Here, he took a moment to breathe a small sigh of relief though he knew he was not out of the woods yet. Not when Neos Dinoysus Ptolemy XII was going to wake soon and not find him there, which would spell trouble and if caught, it WILL cost him dearly. 

More tears fell and despite the urge to scream, cry, and curse his twin sister for abandoning him to this fate, none of that was going to do him any good at the moment. Amunet betrayed him, just like everyone else who wasn’t from The Underworld or Hell. Using his anger to give him energy and strength for the moment, he used the wall as an anchor, steadying himself when he heard a voice that he missed for the last two years. 

Starlight, come home. Where are you, Starlight? Please, come home. Please, I can’t find you…

And then. 

“Starfire?! Starfire, where are ya, Baby?! Answer me please!”

“Hope…Beelze.” He whispered. He must get to the gardens and from there? Get himself to the Underworld so that he can heal. I will make all of Rome suffer…I will make this BASTARD FOOL regret ever having laid his eyes on me. 

Pushing himself off the wall, he started to make his way wiping away his tears before returning their call in a soft voice. “I’m coming…Please wait for me.” He swore he saw them further in the darkness, encouraging him to keep moving. 

His strength renewed for now, and Amun followed the passageway to the outside garden. From there, he looked around for another hidden door, the one he and some of the servants used to escape the palace. Then he could get to an alleyway and shift–his legs then wobbled and he knew that he wouldn't be able to run for much longer. His chest burned from the extended physical activity that he hadn’t been able to build the endurance for. 

He may have no choice but to take his dragon’s form and fly once he climbs the wall.

“FIND HIM!”

Gasping upon hearing Ptolemy’s bellow, Amun dashed to the tallest tree in the center of the gardens. Climbing it, he hissed when his lower back gave out just as he reached a decent enough high branch for him to rest on. Now left with no other choice, he took to his dragon form. The pain was excruciating but he dared not make a sound as his smaller body elongated with ease, years of practice and it was now second nature for him, becoming serpentine with his pink hair turning into a deep void of black as his skin became blood red, blending into the black mane, his S-shaped horns that had metallic hued ridges appearing while his tail curled around him. And gods did he pray that his dragon’s form would grant him the camouflage needed right now; Nine Hells, he didn’t care if someone mistook him for Ifrit, the giant serpent that was the enemy to all of Egypt at this point. He honestly wished that Ifrit was here though, because then he’d be safe.

He just wanted to be home in Beelzebub’s arms, surrounded by those he now understood to be more family to him than Egypt. Damn his sister for convincing him to come to Earth! Damn Ptolemy-damn all of Egypt and Rome! I never should have let her talk me into this! 

Footsteps stirred him out of his thoughts and caused him to hold his breath as he watched a guard- it was Aquila, the captain of Ptolemy’s goon squad, enter the gardens.

The dragon tried carefully to shrink into the shadows as Aquila searched behind the bushes. Compared to Ptolemy, Aquila was the second worst human in the world. Yun heard the other’s dark thoughts, making him feel sick. The other didn’t care if he, Amun, became damaged goods and then tossed aside, he’d gladly take his chance to turn the ‘prince’ into his lover and mold him from there.

And every guard under Ptolemy–yes he can’t deny it anymore. Every staff member outside of the children, desired him. Oh, they respected his twin sister, some lusted for her, but it was him that many desired to do exactly what Ptolemy had done to him. 

Just as Neith had predicted, and her cruel words to him showed how he would never know nor have love from their people or any human. Every human will fear him, desire him, and then toss him aside for his sister’s light. 

Earth is just like The Palace. 

He had been played like a fool.

Amunet would be cosseted by everyone else, whereas he would only receive their dirty looks, sneers, and cruel laughter; mocking him for having been fooled by a human. That he got what he deserved. 

A new wave of rage overrode the pain in his back as he watched Aquila make his way around the gardens.

Neith had already said that his soul is pitch black, that he is evil incarnate, the mate to Ifrit–so what is one murder now? Especially since that means one less evil human in the world, and Amun knows he has saved any future victims of the bastard.

Aquila was just below him now, looking around, and just as he looked up, Amun pounced in a surprise attack, not unlike a leopard crushing the guard’s larynx and then silenced Aquila with his jaws around the other’s windpipe. He made damn sure that the other suffocated slowly relishing in this kill. The metallic nectar that his brother and sister needed for survival, what his mother got drunk on when she came to destroy humanity after they had insulted his grandfather; now he understands their talks about its taste. They were right, it’s not unlike the wine and ale he enjoys, just a bit thicker. 

But he mustn’t gorge himself, he needed to send a message. 

The crimson nectar replenished his strength but he sensed he didn’t have much time to waste. Aquila would be noticeably missing, thus he knew he needed to be swift. That was when he remembered the tale of Syrina had done centuries long ago. He waited, biding his time when Aquila’s men came looking for him, and when they did?

Ptolemy entered the gardens hearing a commotion, thinking his men found the prince.

Instead, Ptolemy was met with a horrendous sight. The gardens were stained red from the blood of his soldiers, Aquila leaning against the wall and Amun used their blood to leave his message. Just then, from the tree shot out a dragon, slithering through the air and towards the darkened night sky, as thunder rumbled in the distance. 

In his wake, the ‘Evil’ God of Secrets left a bloody massacre, having succeeded in shaking Ptolemy to his core.

“Death to the Pharaoh and his Whore, Rome.” He read aloud and seeing his best men now dead, the doomed Pharaoh wondered if the people who hated him had indeed conjured up the very Serpent they feared.

[qyburn-in-the-black-cells]

we ask what makes the targaryens genetically pre-disposed to incest when we should be asking why practice brother-sister incest even though it was intensely taboo for everyone else? well why shouldn’t the men on dragonback set themselves above other men by marrying only as a god can? why not try to minimize succession crises when when civil war risks destroying millions of lives and the dragons, their irrefutable claim to god-hood? and if they’re gods, well, who else is more worthy of a god’s love than another god?

[meowww-ffxiv]

Wait hold on trying to make sense of Liios's and Ptolemy's timeline...

They came to Old Sharlayan in their 20s. Barely adults, for their race. This was why most of the good things Liios remembered of his homeland were tinted with nostalgia. (He missed the voice of the forest the most, honestly.)

He received education and settled in Old Sharlayan. Probably for 10 to 15 years -- long enough to earn himself the Archon title, but it was never officiated because of...behavior problems.

The Exodus happened in the year 1562. 1572 was the year of the 7th Calamity -- so 10 years between the Exodus and the Calamity? Then ARR began 5 years later.

Liios was 84 by the time of ARR. Meaning he and Ptolemy were 69 when they left Eorzea (with the Exodus). So they spent 15 years, not 20, in Thavnair.

So from 35 to 69 Liios lived in Eorzea, in what was now Idyllshire. 34 years, he was a professor.

As long as he had lived in Old Sharlayan.

No wonder he loved Eorzea so much.

[starrynightmuse]

Sign of the Times 🏛⏳️ I. Broken Dragonfly Wings

Aemond Targaryen x reader, Library of Alexandria AU

(Title inspired by the Harry Styles song)

Blurb: It's summer in Alexandria, Egypt, and the heat has reached sweltering heights. Children dash toward the banks of the Nile, eager to find relief in the cool waters while ladies fan themselves under the shade of palm trees. Thick mud huts keep families cool under the boiling sun. It would be 1,892 years before the first ice cubes would be invented and nearly two millennia until air conditioning. Even Jesus Christ wouldn’t be born until another 48 years. But you have the teachings of Aristotle and the works of Euclid. You're the first and only female scholar at the Library of Alexandria, the first institute of its kind. All your life has been spent in the pursuit of knowledge — until the arrival of a mysterious young scholar named Aemond. 

Series warnings: period typical misogyny, ancient academia, teacher x student relationship (but they're the same age), violence, fire, sexual content (18+), reader is loosely based off of Hypatia of Alexandria, Targaryens x Ptolemies crossover, character deaths, inaccurate history for the sake of storytelling, accusations of witchcraft, debates on fictional religions, Plato, Daemon being a menace.

Word count: 5,380

Series Masterlist

Your heart was racing, terror coiling in your stomach like a serpent, but you refused to let it show as you looked out at the mob of angry faces around you in the pavilion.

“Traitor!”

“Death to the witch!”

“Kill her!” 

You knew there was no escaping this. This was the end. Yet, even as fear flooded your chest, you refused to let go of your pride. You held your head up high as Prince Daemon approached you where you kneeled. He looked down at you, his cold eyes gleaming in sick satisfaction.

"I'm giving you one last chance, witch," he said, his voice hard and uncompromising. "Renounce your unholy ways and convert to the Faith of the Seven, and you shall walk away unharmed."

You looked up at him, refusing to back down. You hypocrite, you thought. When you spoke, your voice was steady and firm. "I cannot.”

The prince's expression darkened. He stepped closer to you, his lips close to your ear so that no one would overhear.

“There is nothing left for you. It's over. Save yourself and the crown will grant you mercy,” he hissed.

You spat at his face. "If the right to think is treason, then I embrace it proudly. I refuse to remain supplicant to a crown that fears the power of knowledge and labels it treachery."

Daemon's lips formed into a cruel snarl. He stepped back and turned to the crowd, opening his arms in a dramatic display. "The punishment for witchcraft is death!" his voice boomed. The crowd erupted, snarling and roaring like a pack of lions.

Your heart raced as the people closed in with stones in hand, hungry predators circulating their prey. You took a final deep breath, bracing yourself for the onslaught. The first stone hit you, a dull throb of pain that quickly gave way to sharper, intense sensations as more stones followed. You feel your knees collapsing to the hard floor. In reflex, you cover your head with your arms. You shut your eyes, and the last thing you saw was the memory of a single blue eye.

🏛⏳️

6 months earlier.

There's a buzzing in the air, and not just from the hum of people in the atrium outside. Inside your classroom, a large blue dragonfly lazily flies in circles, your students taking turns swatting at it as it zips by. It’s an epaulet skimmer, or an orthetrum chrysostigma, a common dragonfly found around Egypt. Last month, you helped survey them with a fellow scholar who was putting together an account of all the various insects along the Nile River delta. The research project was commissioned by the Princess Helaena Targaryen herself, whom you've heard was quite fond of natural history. 

In the midst of your lecturing, the buzz of the insect feels amplified. In front of you sit nearly fifty pupils, all perched on wooden benches. Most of them are in their teens and early twenties, and all of them were young men with restless energy with wandering minds. While a few showed genuine curiosity, you knew that attendance was merely a formality to half of them, who were only present because their parents were wealthy aristocrats. Yet, you knew it was your duty to broaden their minds and instill some semblance of knowledge into their minds before they go on to graduate and become lords who make decisions that impact hundreds of people.

“Whether you believe in the Seven or the old gods, we accept that the divine has created all that we know,” you say, your voice carrying across the room. “Yet, the mechanisms behind how their creations work are a mystery to us mortals.”

There's a blur of blue near your eye when the dragonfly makes a landing on your nose. You swap it away and continue. 

“For example, what are the gears that drive a drought? Elders of the past have said that a drought is punishment from an angry sun god. Holy men today say it is the repercussion of having vexed the Seven. But how, precisely, do these divine beings bring this drought upon us?” You pause, pacing around the room. “Like observing the work of a craftsman, we can observe the handiwork of the gods. We can observe that volcanic eruptions are one tool that the gods use to give us droughts. Likewise, miasma from a plague, which spews vaporous acid into the atmosphere, can cause rising temperatures and dry up rivers. (Modern Fact check: Miasma does NOT cause plagues. They are caused by infectious bacteria and viruses.)

“Every natural disaster has forces, or causes, behind them. Although perhaps only the gods may know the truth of the workings behind these events, philosophers and believers of science have theorized why certain disasters come to be. Take earthquakes, for example. Compared to droughts, it is much harder for us to determine how earthquakes are created. Aristotle, for one, suggested that it is caused by winds in subterranean caves.”

One of your pupils seated on the front row raises his hand. Ebony curls, dark eyes that remind you of beetles, his robes a deep plum that only money can buy.

“Perhaps Aristotle failed to consider that earthquakes could just be Atticus's mother walking to the market,” he says, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His friend gives him a hearty slap on the back, nearly doubling over with laughter.

You offer a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you, Flavius." 

Some of your students were more mature than others.

Flavius's jolliness is short-lived, however. The dragonfly suddenly decides to dart into his eye and he lets out a startled shriek. He swats at the insect and tumbles forward off the bench. His friend roars even harder with laughter. Meanwhile, the dragonfly falls onto the floor, its delicate blue wings now broken. A couple students in the back crane their necks in curiosity as Flavius stomps his feet on the insect's body, crushing it mercilessly against the tile floor. Tiny blue limbs smear across the tiles, its wings in pieces like shattered glass. A life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

Flavius settles back onto the bench, straightening his toga with an air of nonchalance. "Apologies, miss. Please, continue," he says.

You choose to ignore his interruption, redirecting your attention to the rest of the class. 

“When we attempt to unravel the mysteries behind the divine's creations, we begin to understand the natural world,” you say, thinking about the dead bug in front of you, its blue wings, the blue of the Nile, all the species of flora and fauna that have survived for eons thanks to its life-giving waters. “This is why we study the discipline of science.”

“Beyond these walls, I have heard many who deem it to be blasphemy,” a voice interjects. 

Your gaze shifts to a young man at the rear of the room. You've never seen him before, not in your classroom nor around the Library. If you've seen him, you would know. With his sharp features, nearly white hair cropped close to his head, and a leather eyepatch covering an angry scar on his left eye — his was not a face you would forget. 

“What do they call you?” You ask curiously, piercing blue eye meeting yours. He seemed a bit older than the rest of your students — perhaps in his mid-twenties, around the same age as you. You briefly wondered where he was from. His features stood out in a sea of dark haired Alexandrians.

"I am called Aemond, ma'am," his voice remained composed and respectful. "Just Aemond." There was a refinement in his speech that hinted of a privileged upbringing, yet the absence of a surname intrigued you. Perhaps he was an educated slave, adept at tutoring and managing the finances of the master's household — literate slaves were not uncommon in the Roman Empire.

"And what have you heard, Aemond?" you inquire.

"It is said that scientific inquiry is seen as an offense to the Seven," he responds evenly, referring to the gods. "Questioning their creations is considered sacrilegious." Several students nod in agreement around the room.

You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

“It is true that outside these walls, the belief that science is sacrilegious is held by many people,” you say slowly. “Perhaps even now, some of you are wrestling with the idea, torn between conventional thinking and what you are learning at this institute. If this is the case, I implore you to consider this —” 

You look out at the faces of your pupils. Some are focused and deep in thought, while others are frowning. A lone blue eye is fixed on you.

"—What act of love is greater than seeking to understand the object of your affection? Mathematics, physics, and astronomy are not merely academic pursuits but they are expressions of love. They are avenues through which we seek to comprehend and appreciate the intricate beauty of our world.” You gestured around the room. “I am aware that some of you are followers of the Seven. Some of you are devoted to the old gods. But science does not seek to refute the existence of one God over another, nor does it attempt to debunk the existence of the divine altogether. Science seeks only to understand.” You look in Aemond's direction. He's watching, listening intently. “In attempting to understand the natural world, we may better love the divine and appreciate their creations.”

🏛⏳️

The remainder of the class concluded smoothly, and due to the sweltering heat, you dismissed everyone earlier than usual. Despite the hour not yet reaching midday, the air was thick with humidity, making the classroom feel oppressive. You had no desire to keep your students in the stuffy classroom for longer than necessary.

As the others rush to leave the room, you notice that Aemond was kneeling down and using a handkerchief to clean the dragonfly off the floor.

“Thank you,” you say to him earnestly. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he delicately holds the insect through the thin white cloth. He picks up a broken piece of an iridescent blue wing, the shimmer catching the light.

"It's an epaulet skimmer," you remark softly. But you're not looking at the bug, you're looking at him.

"Orthetrum chrysostigma," Aemond responds, using the scientific name. You regard him with curiosity. 

“My sister has a fondness for insects," Aemond explains. "She is extremely gentle with them. She maintains an extensive collection in her room — beetles, caterpillars, dragonflies, and the like. But she only gathers them once they've passed on. Her heart is too big to confine them before they've lived a full life." He gazes at the broken wing in his hand with a hint of sadness. You suspect that he is thinking of more than the fate of the squashed bug.

“Some cultures believe that dragonflies were once dragons who were tricked by a jackal to change shape into insects,” you say, looking at the wing in fascination. “Once they became a dragonfly, they couldn't transform back. As a result, they represented change and illusion.” 

You notice that Aemond's gaze is now fixed on you, a blue eye that reminds you of iridescent wings and the shimmering surface of the Nile on sunny days. You think of mirages in the desert, blue lapis lazuli on polished gold rings, the holographic shells of scarab beetles. 

“They must've been very grand in their past lives,” he remarks.

There's a short silence as you observe him, unsure of what to make of this strange new addition to your class. As your gaze shifts from his eyepatch to his eye, you notice that he's studying you too. Suddenly, you feel very exposed, as if he was somehow reading your entire life story just by looking at you. 

Breaking the tension, you extend your hand. "I realize I haven't properly introduced myself. It's been a pleasure having you in my class," you say, stating your name. He accepts your gesture, clasping your hand in a firm shake.

“You're the daughter of Theon. Your father is the greatest mathematician in all of Alexandria,” Aemond says. “I know who you are.” 

“Do you study mathematics?” 

“No. History and philosophy,” he replies. “But I've read enough across all the disciplines to know who the greats are.” 

“I don't think I've ever seen you around here before,” you note.

"I just started my studies here," he explains. "I arrived last night."

"Where else have you studied?" 

“Nowhere else. All my education has been from tutors hired by my family at home.”

"If you don't mind my asking, where do you come from?" 

He hesitates. ��I've been around,” he says at last. 

🏛⏳️

That afternoon, you decided to teach your next class in one of the classrooms overlooking the sea. Arriving early, you unlatch the tall, arched windows, hoping to coax a gentle breath of ocean breeze into the room. As the soft light of the late afternoon filtered through, you arrange your teaching materials as the first of your students trickled in.

The class was on Euclidean geometry. As it happens, this was one of your favorite subjects to teach. You loved to move around the room, using various objects — such as a discus, a sphere, and even a pineapple — to illustrate geometric shapes and their properties. It was more than just memorizing formulas; it was about seeing and understanding the spatial relationships and practical applications of mathematics in the physical world.  

Two thousand years from now, Euclidean geometry would be the foundation for computer graphics, radiology, and geographic information systems. Without Euclid, you wouldn't have video games or anime. There would be no x-rays to help doctors treat broken bones. Without Euclid, there would be no Google Maps, nor would you be able to stalk your crush's location on Snapchat. 

Abruptly, you are cut off mid-lecture as a series of bold knocks echo off the door. You excuse yourself and open the door cautiously, finding yourself face-to-face with six armored men adorned in gold cloaks. You step out into the atrium.

"What is your business?" you ask, your gaze sharp and guarded.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen wants to speak to Theon of Alexandria. I'm told you're his daughter,” the guard at front says firmly.

“My father is indisposed. Whatever business you have with him, you can discuss with me.”

A sudden laugh rings out across the atrium. Every movement in the hall comes to a standstill as scholars pause their tracks and turn their heads. In front of you, guards quickly part ways for a tall man with long silver hair. His armor clinks as he strides towards you, his eyes mischievous like those of a jackal, reminding you of the ancient depictions of Anubis on temple walls. Adorning his shoulders is the same golden cloak worn by his men.

It was the unmistakable Prince Daemon Targaryen, brother of King Viserys and the consort of the crown princess Rhaenyra. But to the smallfolk, he is known as the merciless commander of the City Watch. 

Daemon looks at you like you are the scum on his shoes. “I don't have time for games, girl,” he says mockingly. “Where is your father?”

“Like I've said, he is indisposed,” you repeat, meeting him with a steady gaze.

“I have come a long way from the palace,” he says, offering a false honeyed grin. “You will fetch him for me.” 

You give a smile that mirrored his. It was common knowledge that Prince Daemon frequented the company of his mistress in the city more than he did his own wife at the royal palace.

"I speak the truth when I say my father cannot be here right now, and I apologize on his behalf. However, I am willing to assist you,” you assert calmly.

"This does not concern you," Daemon retorts dismissively. "I am here on business concerning your father's governance of this... academic institution."

"I am a professor here and a senior member of the Library of Alexandria," you counter, maintaining your composure. "After my father, you will find no one more knowledgeable about the affairs of this institute than I am."

Daemon scoffs, his tone condescending. "There are matters too serious to discuss with a woman.”

“Then I'm afraid you will have to come back another day, my prince.” 

“Where is your father?”

“He is sick. Unless you have a direct order from the king, I would prefer not to disturb him from his much-needed rest."  

The unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air — the Library is under the protection of the crown, and Daemon, despite his authority, is not the king. The prince's expression darkens, a sneer painting his features as his knuckles grip around the handle of his sword on his waist. You find yourself locked in a tense staring contest, both unwilling to yield. Moments tick by in silence, each waiting for the other to give in. Then —

“Very well,” he concedes, letting go of his grip on the sword. But you knew from his expression that this was far from over. Daemon casts a disdainful glance around the atrium as if the place offended him before turning and walking away from you. His gold cloaks follow him, their armor clanking all the way to the main doors of the library. 

It is only when the last of them exited onto the street that you allow yourself to release the breath you've been holding.

🏛⏳️

“Daemon Targaryen? What was he doing here?” You hear Cregan before you see him.

You're in the far corner of the main reading room, kneeling before a crate with a new shipment of scrolls that came in from Greece. Gently opening the lid, you discover a signed note from the head of the Platonic School of Athens. Ἕν οἶδα ὅτι οὐδὲν οἶδα. Αὕτη ἡ γνῶσις ἐμοῦ ἐστιν, it reads at the end. One thing I know, that I know nothing. This is the source of my wisdom. It is a quote by Socrates.

Cregan emerges from behind a shelf, his gray eyes wide with exasperation.

“I can't say that I haven't expected this,” you say to him, picking up a scroll and lightly dusting it off. “It is no secret that Daemon puts up with us only because of the pharaoh.”

“Well, yes. But to barge in here and demand for the Professor—” he means your father Theon.

“He's been sending us threats for months.”

Cregan paused. “When did this start?”

“Four moons ago, when King Viserys reinstated him as Lord Commander of the City Watch.” 

Daemon had been the commander of the city watch once before, but that had been years ago, and back then he was more interested in dealing with criminals in the worst parts of the city. But after some scandal with the Princess Rhaenyra, Viserys had exiled him to Rome. Now, he was back and had regained both his old post as leader of the city guard and the Princess Rhaenyra, whom he took to wife. However, this time, Daemon was turning his policing to the University of Alexandria, more commonly referred to as simply the Library. Apparently, scholars are the new criminals.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Cregan asked, clearly frustrated.

“I didn't want to burden you with it," you reply honestly. "You've been occupied with your research with Princess Helaena these past four moons.”

Cregan rubs his eyebrows. “What has he been threatening?”

With a sigh, you rise to your feet, making space on the shelf for the new scrolls. Cregan joins you, handing over scrolls from the crate as you arrange them carefully in their designated spots on the shelf. 

“He wants to shut down the Library if we don't — and I quote his words — ‘tone down on the science’,” you explain. "He's pushing for censorship, insisting that everything that is taught and published here must be 'safe' for the public. He claims it's about protecting the moral well-being of Alexandrians."

Cregan snorts derisively. "I wonder what his wife thinks of his moral well-being."

"That's an ad hominem attack, Cregan," you chide gently. But you're smiling.

“We're the best scientific research institution in the Mediterranean,” he says. “And, let's face it, we're probably the best in the entire world. We owe it all to King Jaehaerys's proclamation over 50 years ago, protecting our intellectual freedom. Even Daemon Targaryen can't derail something like that.” 

“Daemon doesn't like anything he can't control,” you say. “Nor does he like taking no for an answer.”

“He's a cunt,” Cregan muttered angrily. “His word isn't law but he sure does want to act like it. Did you hear he's been trying to ban all Northerners from entering Alexandria? Unless they're slaves, that is. It's utterly absurd. He's a Northerner himself. His entire family hails from the north—well, not the North, but north of the Mediterranean. Valyria is a small city-state in Greece. Still, that's north of us. If he wants only true Alexandrians in the city, maybe he should consider leaving as well." The Targaryens, although originally from Greece, had become the longest-reigning dynasty in Egypt, despite their non-Egyptian origin.

"What does Princess Helaena think?"

"Of Daemon?"

"Of the North."

Cregan blushes slightly. "She's mentioned that we should visit there together someday," he admits. “For research purposes, of course,” he adds quickly. 

You grin. Cregan has been your closest friend since childhood, and you swear you've never seen him as happy as he's been the past few months.

"She wants to see the direwolves and the aurora borealis,” says Cregan. “I promised her I'd show her around Winterfell when we go." Winterfell, Cregan's hometown, nestled in a far-off corner of the world where snow and frost dominate most of the year — a large contrast to the sandy dunes of Egypt.

“You like her,” you mused.

“Don't be absurd,” Cregan says, but he's failing miserably in hiding a smile.

There's a rustling among the shelves behind you, and the next thing you know, you're face to face with a single blue eye that reminds you of ocean water and iridescent wings.

"Sorry, I was told that the texts about Plato are in this section?" Aemond asks.

"Oh. Yes. Absolutely," you reply quickly, gesturing around you. "I mean, they're all here. Everything on this wall is Plato. We've just received a new collection of his works from Greece and we just finished cataloging and setting them up. They're on this shelf. Here." Your words stumble out awkwardly, and you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Perfect,” Aemond says, looking at you. Neither of you move. Cregan eyes the two of you with amusement. 

“Well, I was just about to head out,” Cregan says cheerfully, sashaying past you. You turn, widening your eyes and mouthing no to him. Cregan simply grins as he disappears behind the bookshelves, leaving you with Aemond. 

“You read Plato?” you ask.

Aemond nods. “I am an admirer of his work,” he says. “You were one of my first introductions to him, actually. I read your thesis on him, An Exploration Into the Metaphysics of Plato, when I was sixteen.” 

“I can't imagine there would be many copies of that,” you say with amazement. “I wrote it when I was—”

“Sixteen,” Aemond says. You blink. He clears his throat. “I've been a follower of your work,” he adds shyly.  

“Oh. I'm flattered.” You’re blushing.

“Is it true that you started studying at The Academy when you were fourteen?” He means the Platonic School of Athens, founded by Plato himself over 300 years ago. Most scholars called it The Academy. It is the first university to ever open in western civilization.

You nod. “I learned mathematics and astronomy here, but my father wanted me to get a hellenistic education on top of it, so he sent me to Greece. I stayed there for four years before returning to Alexandria.”

“I have a brother who studies there,” Aemond shares, leaning against a bookshelf. “My mother, being an Athenian herself, insisted he be sent there. He writes to me sometimes, telling me about the professors he works with. I had considered studying there myself.”

“What made you choose Alexandria over Athens?”

Aemond smiles. “I'm at the center of the world here. It seemed foolish to want to go anywhere else,” he says, his gaze sweeping the library around him. After a pause, he asks, “What made you want to teach?”

“The fear of oblivion,” you reply. "It's the realization that everything we do, everything we learn, and everything we create could be forgotten someday. Teaching, for me, is a way to combat that inevitability. By sharing knowledge, by shaping young minds, I can hope to leave a lasting impact — a legacy that outlives me."

Aemond nods thoughtfully. "So it's about leaving a mark on the world?"

"In a sense, yes," you affirm. "It's about contributing to something greater than myself, ensuring that knowledge endures beyond individual lives and fleeting moments."

He smiles faintly. "That's a noble pursuit."

"It's what drives me," you conclude. As you look at each other, you feel his gaze tracing over your face with a strange emotion. Awe? Admiration? Before you can decipher his thoughts, a scholar approaches the shelf behind you, prompting you to awkwardly step aside.

"I hope you find the resources on Plato you're looking for," you say to Aemond, refocusing on the moment. You pause. "We're hosting a seminar on Plato's metaphysics tomorrow afternoon in the Rose Hall. You should join us."

Aemond smiles. “I’d be honored to.”

🏛⏳️

Daytime in Alexandrian summers can be hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, but when the chill sets in at night, the city transforms into a completely different land. It is under the cloak of darkness that Alexandria truly comes alive.

You’re wrapped in a headscarf, its tail fluttering in the gentle wind from the Mediterranean as you navigate the narrow streets of the night market. Oil lamps and torches cast a soft, flickering glow as shadows danced across buildings decorated with a mix of hieroglyphs and hellenistic art. On the streets, you hear people speaking in both Greek and Egyptian, but also Persian, Moroccan, and other various African and Asiatic dialects. Various aromas filled the air— spices mingled with the savory scents of grilled meats and the sweet notes of baked pastries and delicacies from the far corners of the world. It was the New York City of the ancient world.

Weaving between stalls adorned with colorful fabrics and gleaming trinkets, you spotted one of the gold cloaks from earlier that day. Upon noticing you, he gave you a brief, curt nod before turning his attention sharply towards a group of rowdy children who were blocking the path of a passing wagon.

You make your way to an apothecary stall, securing the medicine your father needs before turning to leave. Suddenly, a hooded figure trips over a wooden crate and crashes into you, causing both of you to tumble to the ground. You fall flat on the cobblestones, his weight on top of you. Your basket with the apothecary vial shatters on the road.

“Ow!” he yelled. You struggle to push him off and get to your feet, then reach down to help him up, steadying him as he sways unsteadily. His hood falls back, revealing a mess of unruly white curls. 

Prince Aegon Targaryen. You’ve seen him a few times while going around the city. The eldest son of Queen Alicent, known to frequent the streets of Alexandria often. Aside from Daemon, he was the only royal that most of the smallfolk could recognize by appearance.

"Prince Aegon," you say cautiously, helping him steady himself. "Are you alright?"

He blinks a few times, focusing on you with bleary eyes. "Why, hello," he slurs slightly, attempting a lopsided smile. For a prince, he seemed dirtier than Diogenes and his barrel.

"Let me help you," you insist, guiding him away from the scattered shards of glass. You maneuver him towards a nearby bench, ensuring he sits down safely.

"I’m alright, I’m fine," he murmurs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He groaned and vomited on the ground next to him. You pat him on the back awkwardly as he empties his stomach.

“Did my mother send you?” he said abruptly.

“What?”

“My mother. She sent you, didn’t she? I can’t catch a break these days,” he grumbled. “The woman is a menace. She’s become crazier since my brother got exiled. I can’t even drink in peace now. She’s sending her spies everywhere.”

You frowned. “I’m not a spy, my prince.”

Aegon wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sits back heavily on the bench. He tilts his head up at you, scrutinizing you, and then he sighs and hungs his head.

“Forgive me,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m tired of the games. Tired of the scrutiny. I’m tired of the standards that she sets for me, and I’m tired of her disappointment when I fail to meet them. Can’t she see I don’t want any of this? Can’t she just let me be?”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond to the prince's candidness. He was clearly drunk and you’ve only just met him, and you’ve heard unsettling rumors about him. Stories of his frequenting brothels and fighting rings, of fathering illegitimate children and neglecting them. But in this moment, he seemed far from the crooked prince that people whispered about. He seemed like a child in need of comfort.

“Your mother worries about you,” you say gently. “She only wants what’s best for you.”

He scoffs bitterly. “Does she? Tell me, have you ever had a mother who would rather marry you to your own sibling for political gain than let you live your own life?”

You shake your head slowly. “I cannot say I understand fully, but I know you carry a heavy burden.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be free of it.” Aegon leans back, staring up at the night sky with weary resignation. “My brother was lucky. I’d do anything to exchange places with him.”

You recalled hearing news of Queen Alicent’s second son, who had been condemned to work in the mines of Nubia as punishment for the murder of his nephew. The usual penalty for murder was death, and much worse if the victim was a royal, but since the criminal was a prince himself, it changed a few things. The Nubian mines were typically reserved for lesser crimes in Alexandria.

“The one who was exiled to Nubia?” you asked Aegon.

He chuckles bitterly. “My brother didn’t get sent to Nubia. Mother loves him too much for that.”

You stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. You had a feeling that you weren’t supposed to be hearing this piece of information. Yet, Aegon didn’t seem to expect a reply. He’s looking up at the stars, as if he wished to fly off into the heavens and leave his miseries on the ground.

“Thank you,” Aegon finally said, breaking the quiet that had settled between you. Thank you for listening, thank you for not judging, thank you for watching out for my drunken mess. He rose to his feet, a bit unsteady but more composed than before. He took out a pouch of coins. “This is for… what I broke,” he said, gesturing to the remnants of the vial around you, shards of glass glittering under oil lamps. You thought of the broken dragonfly wings from earlier in the day.

You accepted the pouch gingerly. What he gave you was worth much more than the cost of the medicine, but you didn’t want to offend him so you decided not to mention it.

“Should I call the guards to escort you back to the palace?” you asked.

Aegon blinked, his gaze drifting momentarily. “No, no,” he said, waving dismissively. “They’re my uncle’s people. They don’t like me.”

"Will you manage on your own?" you pressed gently.

Aegon straightened his cloak and mustered a tired smile. "I always do," he said. 

With that, the prince turned and started to walk away. You watched as he disappeared into the narrow streets, his figure gradually blending with the shadows.

Chapter II: Coming Soon

[saturnianoracle]

Whole Signs v Placidus - which house system is better?

Ah yes, ye age olde debate... which house system to use?

When first getting into astrology, the majority will use the placidus house system whether or not they know it. Placidus is the default for modern/ pop astrology; every chart generation website automatically uses it. Nowadays, the most common runner up house system to placidus is Whole Signs (often used by traditional/hellenistic astrologers). Yet, there are many house systems...:

➔Whole signs ➔Placidus ➔Koch ➔Equal/ Equal (MC) ➔Porphyry ➔Regiomontanus ➔Morinus ➔Alcabatius ➔Campanus ➔Meridian ➔Vehlow ➔Meridian

In this post, however, I will give my own argument on why I use whole signs and why I disagree with placidus. If you disagree with me thats fine, but I hope to at least educate on how these house systems even work and the deeper meaning behind why using whole signs is improtant.

»»-------¤-------««»»-------¤-------««»»-------¤-------««

First, how does Placidus work?

The ascendant (as well as the dsc, mc, ic) is a mathematical point based on the on the sign on the Eastern horizon. Placidus works by marking the cusps of the houses into two-hour intervals starting from the time of your birth. This is then pushed every 2 hours for the 12th 11th 10th 9th 8th and 7th house cusps ( because by the 7th house cusp it has completed 6/6 of its daily solar arc ) and then mirrored for the houses below (already an...interesting method). It is a quadrant system.

How does Whole Signs (WS) work?

Whole signs is not a time based system like Placidus. Whole signs split the houses into equal 30 degree segments, much like how the zodiac signs are split, so each house is equal in size and all the signs start at 0 degrees. The ascendant point, MC, IC, and DC float within the house instead.

Main issues:

Historical

➥The maths for this was laid out by Ptolemy for the purpose of understanding primary directions, of which most people now believe was actually used to predict lifespan - not for a house system. And then eventually an astrologer called Abraham ibn Ezra interpreted Ptolemy's works as a house system which Placidus then came along and validated. ➥During the 17th century British astrologers took this and ran. The Church did not like Placidus' works and so the astrologers essentially pushed the system as revenge against the Church/a big F you to them, making it the popularised system to use. This sacrified accuracy. Placidus rests on a foudnation not even designed to be a house system in the first place which creates a lot of problems as we will see below. P.S. I would HIGHLY recommend reading this article on the popularisation of placidus for a more indepth, better explanation.

Functional

➥Placidus simply falls apart at extreme latitudes (which people ARE born at). Take this chart for example:

Is everyone born at extreme latiudes suddenly inherently special for having such a chart where the houses are so vastly unequal and inutile in size? How does one go about interpreting the significance of this? Houses are literally swallowed up/duplicated or are massive or tiny. Just because your houses might not change so much in WS or placidus does not mean its still valid - a house system has to work for everybody universally. In WS however:

This works and makes SENSE. It is not an issue of being able to interpret the so-called intercepted house (which placidus has the issue of as the maths for it was never intended to be a house system in the first place) or not, it is about being accurate in how to read a chart. ➥Notice how in the placidus chart it appears the ascendant is in the 12th house. This is another visual issue with placidus, for instance apps like CoStar will even tell you that your ascendant is in the 12th house... Placidus or not though the ascendant is always in or at the first house, the ascendant can never be in any other house - the 1st house is literally YOU. The cusps just looked messed up because of the intercepted houses. And chart generating platforms like CoStar relying on placidus mess up even further...

➥ Intercepted houses mean a sign/s is "swallowed up" and doesn't influence any house cusp, which contradicts the principle that every zodiac sign has a clear role in the chart (every house and sign matters whether or not a house is empty etc). The idea that a sign is somehow blocked or inaccessible is untrue, whether or not you think it relates to you (certain aspects in your chart for explain that feeling when read properly rather than this, either way astrology does not care about how you feel or how you wish your chart was; many people get upset that their sun sign moves from the 5th to 6th house for example in WS).

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Rebutting common arguments for placidus

"Whole signs doesn't take into account the rotation and curvature of the earth!"

���First, as explained above, WS houses remain consistent regardless of the observer's latitude, avoiding the distortions and inaccuracies systems like Placidus introduce, particularly at extreme latitudes. WS houses rely on the zodiac's natural, unchanging divisions, which are independent of the Earth's curvature and geographic location (as explained in this post), providing consistent and straightforward house boundaries. ✣WS matches the universe's system. The signs, and therefore the houses are all about the sun rising from zero (its declination/ going from 0 degrees of whatever sign up till 29 and into the next) as the system follows every 30 degree section of the ecliptic , and correlates with the length of the sign's period. If the ascendant involves the ecliptic meeting the horizon , the ascendant point is a specific coordinate that is located within the first house whose cusp starts at 0 rather than marking the beginning of the cusp. Why should the house system not match what is going on above from which we observe and practise.

"Why not a time-based system if astrology is all about predictive techniques and seems so time sensitive?"

✣ Time doesn't exist in space in the same way it does here, time is just our tool to pinpoint moments against a measurement from which we can organise things (generally speaking). Time is, however, crucial for predictions only in how translate what happens up there to below, less so for diving the sky which is basically already divided for us. ✣ Time-based divisions, like placidus, introduce unnecessary complexity without adding real astrological value, as the essential qualities of the houses are fully captured by the zodiac's natural 30-degree segments in WS anyway as explained above.

"The MC and IC cannot be in houses which are not 10th and 4th!"

✣ Yes they can, this is quite straightforward. In WS, the IC can be in the 2nd-6th house and MC in 8th-12th (extremely rarely it can be in the 1st/7th house too). It is a floating mathematical point (like the asc and dsc) and does not mark the beginning of the 4th house and 10th house cusps like in Placidus. ✣ This is because the MC is the point where the sun culminates at its highest position in the sky at a given location, corresponding to the local meridian. The IC is directly opposite, marking the lowest point below the horizon. The MC and IC are not tied to the zodiac signs but are based on the intersection of the ecliptic (the Sun's apparent path) with the meridian line of the observer's location. This intersection varies based on the time of birth and latitude, and these points can occur at any degree of the zodiac. Because WS houses are aligned with the zodiac signs and the MC/IC are specific points along the ecliptic, the MC and IC can fall at different degrees that don't align with the 10th and 4th house cusps. ✣ This adds more nuance to readings. For instance, if the MC is in the 9th house instead of the 10th, it might indicate that one's career/public life/legacy/how they come off is strongly influenced by 9th house themes like higher education, travel, or philosophy. Thus, they add more information to how 10th and 4th house themes manifest. ✣ Here is a must-read article if you want more information (thorough analysis of MC/IC through the houses) on this topic: Patrick Watson- What To Do When the Midheaven Is Not in the 10th Whole Sign House.

Ending thoughts

People find it difficult to move on from placidus because they think their placidus charts makes complete sense/they resonate deeply with it/ they simply prefer their house placements in placidus to WS. All this is because of, for lack of better wording, a skill issue. You think it makes more sense but thats because you don't actually know how to properly delineate a chart - end of. And that's fine, astrology is complex and interpretation requires a lot of practise and deep study, especially into hellenistic works for a richer understanding of astrology.

Using placidus makes readings and your understanding of astrology unnecessarily complex and undermines the true art of chart intepretation, allowing for pop astrologers to import their own 'psychological' analysis, for instance, onto you via astrology - a deep misuse. Astrology has never been about psychologically explaining yourself - it is a map of your entire life of which you will not always 'relate' to, especially at different points in your life because those energies simply won't be pertinent/obvious when we are 5 vs 50 for example. I have spoken about the problems of using "resonating" to determine the accuracy of your astrological studies in my introductory post already, but it is a point which keeps needing to be re-emphasised.

The Whole Sign system is the oldest of all house systems, used effectively by ancient astrologers for thousands of years. It provides consistent and reliable results, particularly in predictive work, without the unnecessary and inaccurate complications introduced by varying house sizes and interceptions. If you want to use profection charts for instance, or many other traditional techniques, placidus will not work.

Placidus (as well as modern rulerships and the ABC house system which I will make posts on later) will take a while to unlearn - it certainly took me a long time to adjust out of the grips of modern pop culture's inaccurate and misleading yet addictive astrology. This is okay. But at the end of the day, wrong is wrong no matter how you try to justify it.

However, it is your personal choice. Posts like mine can only hope to encourage you to explore the deeper layers of astrology. Things like WS can take a while to accept, or you may never accept it - but as long as you make that decision fully informed. Yours sincerely, an ex-Placidus user xoxo

[majestativa]

Gazing into her ice water as though it were a crystal, Theda told dreamily of her former life as Queen of the Nile and flashed a 2,000-year-old ring given to her by a 110-year-old sheik. “I felt the blood of the Ptolemys coursing through my veins,” sh emoted. “I know that I am a reincarnation of Cleopatra. It is not a mere theory in my mind. I have positive knowledge that such is the case. I live Cleopatra, I breathe Cleopatra, I am Cleopatra!”

— EVE GOLDEN ⚜️ Vamp: The Rise and Fall of Theda Bara, (1998)

[fortjester]

"Ptolemy is accused in Dante’s Inferno with the sin of treachery. His memory is perpetuated as ‘Ptolemaea’, a place in hell designated for traitors against guests in their home. Traitors to their Guests lie supine in the ice while their tears freeze in their eye sockets, sealing them with small visors of crystal – even the comfort of weeping is denied to them."

Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain // Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (ch. John 1:20, John 5:4, and Epilogue)

[inspofromancientworld]

Tattoos of the Near East and Europe

Knowing the full history of tattooing is practically impossible as skin doesn't usually leave a record of itself except in very special circumstances. Despite this, we do know that tattooing goes back quite a long time in human history and span almost every culture in the world. Joann Fletcher, a research fellow at the University of York in the United Kingdom, works with ancient Egyptian mummies, who were once thought to be the first group of people to tattoo because they mummified their dead. However, with the discovery of Ötzi the Iceman, that date was pushed back even farther because he was mummified by the cold, preserving his skin for 5300 years, about 1300 years before the earliest known Egyptian mummy to have one.

Tattoos on the body of Ötzi, the Tyrolean Iceman South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology / EURAC / Samadelli / Staschitz

Ötzi's tattoos lead us to believe that they were for health reasons, to alleviate the pain of strained or degenerating joints. His tattoos were not placed in such a way that would allow for easy display of status, given they were placed over his lower spine and right knee and ankle.

This blue bowl (circa 1300 B.C.E.), housed in the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden, Amsterdam, features a musician tattooed with an image of the household deity Bes on her thigh. Joann Fletcher

Ancient Egyptians had figurines with tattoos as early as 4000 BCE and began representing them in tomb paintings around 1200 BCE and tools dated to around 1450 BCE were found near Gurob in northern Egypt. The vast majority of the people that were tattooed in these figurines and paintings, as well as mummies, were female and the tattoo was placed on their thighs, breasts, and abdomens. Because of the gender of the tattooed person and the archaeologists (largely male), for a long time, they were dismissed as 'dancing girls'. That the mummies were found in Deir el-Bahari, where the upper crust were berried, only managed to move the description to 'probably a royal concubine' (basically 'fancy' sex workers). However, Fletcher is of the opinion that these tattoos may have been a permanent amulet, probably tot aid in pregnancy and birth and possibly against sexually transmitted diseases. She also thinks that it was older women who would tattoo the younger women, perhaps as a way of passing down their own strength and fortitude to them.

This is in contrast to other cultures that used tattoos for decoration, though there is some evidence that there were therapeutic ones within the ones we've found preserved. Ancient Libyans were depicted by the Egyptians around 1300 BCE with male leaders wearing geometrical tattoos on their arms and legs.

Tattoo on the arm of a Pazyryk tribal chief, Altai Mountains, 5th century B.C.E. The Hermitage Museum

The Scythian Pazyryk of the Altai Mountain region of Siberia also used ornate tattoos all over their bodies, including mythical creatures on both a male and female ice people. These mummies date to about 400 BCE. The Greek historian Herodotus wrote about the Scythians and Thracians that their 'tattoos were a mark of nobility, and to not have them was testimony of low birth'. This stood out to him because the Greeks and Romans only really used tattoos to show that someone 'belonged' to either a religious sect or a person, or had been a criminal.

Greek vase (circa 450-440 B.CE.) depicting the death of Orpheus by a tattooed Thracian ArchaiOptix, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Despite these leanings, Ptolemy IV of Egypt (reigning from 221-205 BCE) was tattooed with ivy leaves to symbolize his devotion to Dionysus, who was the patron god of royalty as well as wine at the time. This led to Roman soldiers also getting tattoos, at least until Christianity spread; then they were found again to be disfiguring and banned by Emperor Constantine.

The trend of Christianity spreading at the end of a sword or gun caused a lot of native cultures tattooing practices to be vilified.

(TBC)

[best-nun-tournament]

Round 1

Skystar and Graywing (Warrior Cats) vs Sasuke and Itachi Uchiha (Naruto)

Scar and Mufasa (The Lion King) vs Jude and Taryn Duarte (The Folk of the Air)

Krauss, Eva, Rudolf and Rosa Ushiromiya (Umineko) vs The Princes of Stormhold (Stardust)

Blitzø and Barbie Wire (Helluva Boss) vs Bardas and Gorgas Lordan (The Fencer Trilogy)

Vinsmoke Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji (One Piece) vs Nikolai and Vasily Lantsov (Grishaverse/Shadow and Bone)

The Batsiblings (Batman) vs Rattlesnake and Sirocco (Wings of Fire)

Dee and Dennis Reynolds (It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia) vs Folgers Coffee Siblings (Folgers Coffee commercial)

Ianthe and Coronabeth Tridentarius (The Locked Tomb) vs Therese and Jeanette Voerman (Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines)

Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba (Danganronpa) vs Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary (English history)

Ruby and Aquamarine Hoshino (Oshi no Ko) vs Richard and Helen Gansey (The Raven Cycle)

The Endless (Sandman) vs Lark and Sparrow Oak-Garcia (Dungeons and Daddies)

The Bridgerton siblings (Bridgerton) vs Clary Fairchild and Sebastian Morgenstern (The Shadowhunter Chronicles)

The Sanderson Sisters (Hocus Pocus) vs Velvet and Veneer (Trolls 3)

The Seven Sisters Colleges (Real Life) vs Zeus and Hera (Greek mythology)

Akio Ootori and Anthy Himemiya (Revolutionary Girl Utena) vs Tom and Jake Berenson (Animorphs)

The Hargreeves siblings (Umbrella Academy) vs Ledroptha Curtain (The Mysterious Benedict Society)

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian (MDZS/The Untamed) vs Rei Asaka and Fukiko Ichinomiya (Oniisama E)

Adam and Eve (NieR: Automata) vs Dys and Tangent (I Was A Teenage Exocolonist)

Percy Jackson and Polyphemus (Percy Jackson) vs Mercer and Gage (The Silt Verses)

King Richard and Prince John (Robin Hood/English history) vs Cleopatra VII and Ptolemy XIII (Egyptian history)

Uru Somezuki and Saito Sejima (AI: The Somnium Files) vs Illumi, Killua and Alluka Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Andrew and Ashley Graves (The Coffin of Andy and Leyley) vs Belzedar (The Belgariad)

Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion Lannister (A Song of Ice and Fire) vs Torak (The Belgariad)

Phillip and Caleb Wittebane (Owl House) vs Ogata Hyakunosuke and Hanazawa Yuusaku (Golden Kamuy)

Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston (How To Train Your Dragon) vs Andrew and Aaron Minyard (All for the Game)

Goneril and Regan (King Lear) vs Ruby Rocks and Saccharina Frostwhip (Dimension 20: A Crown of Candy)

The Beagle Boys (Donald Duck universe) vs Catherine and Hindley Earnshaw (Limbus Company)

Sam and Dean Winchester (Supernatural) vs John Wilkes and Edwin Booth (US history)

Anne and Mary Boleyn (English history) vs Rodrick, Greg, and Manny Heffly (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

Anastasia, Drizella, and Cinderella (Cinderella) vs Wolf 40f and Wolf 42f "Cinderella" (Real Life, Druid Peak wolf pack)

Byes: Azula and Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender), Cain and Abel (The Bible)

[tomwambsmilk]

I am now realizing I don't think I've ever really explained my Succession-Inferno analogy but it is something near and dear to my heart so. Buckle up I guess!

The whole thing is premised on the idea that Logan holds a lot of characteristics traditionally ascribed to the devil in literature. He's an excellent liar (far better than anyone else on the show), he goes out of his way to destroy relationships between other people because he can't stand it when people love others more than they love him, he presents himself as "uncle fun" to outsiders, he actively revels in sowing discord and conflict and betrayal whereas everyone else merely tolerates it. At the same time everyone around him treats him like a god. He deserves all their love, he is The Father who has created all they see, reality is manifested by his will and is simply whatever he wants it to be, he is all-knowing and all-powerful. But because their god is actually. you know. evil. the fruit of his continued power (and their continued worship of him) is nothing but misery and lies.

In Dante's Inferno, Dante goes on a journey through Hell, guided by Virgil. Virgil represents two things: the knowledge of morality necessary to understand what's happening in Hell and avoid being taken in by it, and the moral support and courage necessary to complete the journey. Dante journeys through nine circles that are meant to represent sins of increasing moral degradation. The first is limbo, who's actually just people who weren't bad at all but were never baptized and so can't go to heaven. That's where the pagan moral philosophers - including Virgil - are. After that, it's Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, and finally, Treachery. The order is very intentional, and rooted the belief that the early sins (sins of the flesh) are the easiest ones to fall into and ultimately are not as serious as the others - but, they also serve as gateways to the more serious sins. Each circle has sinners being punished in ways that are metaphors for the impacts of their sins. The devil sits in the ninth circle of hell, Treachery, where everyone (including the devil himself) is frozen in ice. The devil has Brutus, Judas, and Cassius in his mouth, and he chews on them for all eternity. Everyone around him betrayed someone they had an obligation to; the worse the betrayal, the closer to the devil they are frozen. The furthest away are those who betrayed their families (Cain); then those who betrayed their countries (Antenor); those who betrayed their guests and those who sheltered in their homes (Ptolemy); and finally, those who betrayed their masters, lords, and benefactors, which includes the three in Satan's mouth.

If Logan is Succession's Satan, then two things follow. First, Waystar becomes a metaphorical Inferno, where climbing the ranks to get closer to Logan requires climbing through the circles of hell and participating in greater and greater moral degradation. I think the character this most applies to, because we actually get to see his corruption arc over the course of the show, is Tom. And his arc, I think, arguably fits with that journey into hell. Season 1 gives us Gluttony and Greed, especially in 1.06 when he takes Greg to the restaurant and gives his spiel about how great it is to be rich. We also get his general obsession with nice things and with stuff, something which the Roys don't have, and something that seems to fade in Tom as his arc progresses. Season two gives us Wrath and Violence (Safe Room etc.), and Fraud (the cruise line scandal coming out). And then finally, at the end of season 3, we get Treachery. And I find it very very interesting that immediately before committing the act of Treachery, Tom asks Greg if he wants to make a deal with devil - something which turns out to mean both a deal with Logan, but also the act of betraying Shiv. Up until this point, you could argue that Greg had been riding along on Tom's coattails on this journey-through-hell - but the line "What am I going to do with a soul anyways?" means that, for the first time, he's actively consenting to what's happening. Sure, he doesn't know what's going on - but the line itself implies that it simply does not matter to him.

The second thing that follows, though, is that while Tom and Greg and the old guard have journeyed down to where Logan is, his children have been there all along. They grew up in a world characterized by Treachery, Fraud, Violence, Wrath, Greed, and Lust. Their arcs aren't about them becoming corrupted; their arcs are about whether they can escape the corruption they've always lived in. Everyone is frozen in that same ice together, but the ways they got here were very different.

Finally, the Virgil character is very important, because he doesn't have a corollary in the Succession half of this analogy, and that highlights what none of these characters have. None of them have a strong moral compass, and even if they did, none of them have the kind of support and moral courage to resist the allure of temptation. This is far more devastating for the Roy kids, though, because they've never had the opportunity to encounter a Virgil, whereas everyone else had to pass through Limbo - where Virgil is - before they could start going through hell. Or, in other words, with Tom et al. at some point there was an active choice to reject the moral compass and reject the moral support, which the Roy kids never had. But once you reject your moral compass it's hard to get it back again, hence why the further you get from Limbo the harder it is to find your way back.

[moonxsuncelestials]

Aftermath of Ptolemy (Part 6)

By the first light of their grandfather’s rays streaking through the inky blackness of the twilight dawn hours, Syrina was now pinning him to the sands while straddling him; just as she had done to her husband centuries ago. Her dual swords created an X to stop him from getting up, successfully pinning him to the sand.  

She had won. 

Jackal couldn’t believe it at first, but he would be the first to admit that he had sorely underestimated his little sister. And then she once again surprised him as she withdrew her swords, sheathing them before she offered her hand to help him up. And when he took them she pulled him into a hug. “I get it, Jackal. More than you may even care to believe. But this is not the way to help both of them heal, and deep down you know it.” She added as he growled a little. “Go and hold our Moonlight, hold her tight, and never let her go. Listen to Amun, listen to his side of the story, Jackal.” 

Jackal found himself soothed despite the last of her orders and his maddening grin and those terrifying cold golden hues returned to being full of warmth and kindness. 

“Shhh...Let’s go back home.” Syrina cooed as she let go only for her to cup his face, forcing him to look at her. She smiled softly and he leaned into her touch. “The dragon twins need their big sweet brother, Inapu. Amun is her shadow but he likely ran to The Underworld so, focus now on her recovery. Love her as only you can.” 

Nodding, they then disappeared back to their sister’s chambers. 

Jackal was later severely punished for his actions. As much as their grandfather understood his rage and reasoning, Jackal had nearly destroyed all order in his rampage. But for Amunet, he would destroy the world and rebuild it so that she wouldn’t be harmed again.

Months had passed and still, Amunet felt great shame for being so foolish. She had allowed a human to manipulate her and now experienced the dark side to humanity. Was this what her twin brother had to listen to daily? 

Ptolemy almost…

She hid her face in her hands as she cried at the flashback of Ptolemy’s cruel laugh when she realized what he was about to do to her. 

And poor Aloysius, he was dead because of her. Because he was loyal to her til his last breath. The elder man had been her friend, a confidant, and while she felt an immense attraction towards him, all they ever had done was share one heated kiss. That was all she could give him, whereas Amun could give his body freely. She chose to remain friends, for the sake of his life.

But that didn’t work out so well. Aloysius may have been a Roman, but he didn’t deserve to die like that. Oh Gods, her brother must have taken his death so hard because Amun was in love with him, at least she thinks so.

Shaking as she soon stood to pace, a clear sign of her stress, Amunet recalled nearly every detail of what had transpired. Perhaps, and this could be wishful thinking or he somehow managed it, Aloysius had possessed one of Ptolemy’s soldiers to defend her and get her to the mirror. 

His final act of defiance against the pharaoh and to get her home. 

Amunet had no idea if Amun had escaped, she hadn’t seen him since early dawn on that day. And try as her parents might, she could hear the rumors from the rest of the family; rumors that spoke of how Amun had set it up to get rid of her. 

Pure. Utter. Nonsense.

Amun loves her, he would never have done this. “He didn’t even want to go in the first place…” She said aloud and dried her tears before heading for her balcony. She wanted to curse Ptolemy, to make him and those who had dared to touch her suffer immensely. Most of all to destroy the very empire that he loved so much-but would mean harming the innocent who have committed no crime against her or a loved one. And that’s a line she refuses to cross, no matter how upset she is.

That was when a vision struck her, causing her to gasp, as she witnessed people screaming whilst she was standing in the middle of a marketplace, many of them running-that was when she saw why. A tidal wave large enough to wipe out–she then realized what she was seeing. Rome was going to drown just as Atlantis had been sunk eons ago! But which God was-

“There you are, Coward.” 

That voice.

Oh Gods she knows how terrifying Amun can be when he’s beyond angry and there is always that tone of voice that sends chills down her spine. A voice so dark and cold, far more so than Ifrit, and older–one that she felt she knew once upon a time. She tried to speak but found her voice came out in only harsh wheezes. What was happening?! 

Is what she is seeing the future?

No matter, she has to stop this! She ran against the throng of the crowds, sensing her twin was the source of the tidal wave. Amun never had this kind of power before, he never had shown mastery over water like her or how Sobek has of the Nile. So how–questions are for later, she has to stop him!

[peppapigvevo]

8, 16 and 21 for the Doll Collector Ask Game!

8. Any dolls with an interesting story (from when/where you got them?)

I feel like my doll collection stories aren't really that interesting lol I dod go to SDCC the year I got Valentine and Whisp which is the furthest ice ever gone for a doll at least

16. Oldest doll? (from when it originally released)

Signature Frankie from wave 1, I got them with Holt a couple of months after they dropped

21. Doll you wish came out? (doesn’t exist/cancelled)

I'm pretty sure we all want the cancelled Seth Ptolemy doll. as for dolls that don't exist I will ALWAYS be pissed that Jackson and Holt were never planned to get a 2 pack

[finitefall]

Imagine reading a medieval fantasy series with magic, dragons, ice zombies and feudal system and think “oh, they're like nazis” about the royal dynasty based off an ancient greek royal dynasty (the greek ptolemaic dynasty of egypt), which WAS worshipped as GODS and practiced incest.

The same people who read a fantasy series with ice zombies who can be defeated by fire and think Daenerys and her dragons are the real threat for humanity.

I don't know if GRRM talked about his inspiration for the Targaryens, but the Ptolemies definitely seem to be an inspiration. What's also interesting is that Cleopatra, last ruling Queen of the Ptolemaic dynasty in Egypt, was the only one from said dynasty to have learned other languages and Daenerys learned to speak Dothraki and was in the books learning Ghiscari as well in Meereen.

[starrynightmuse]

Sign of the Times Masterlist 🏛⏳️

Aemond Targayen x reader, Library of Alexandria AU

(Title inspired by the Harry Styles song)

Blurb: It's summer in Alexandria, Egypt, and the heat has reached sweltering heights. Children dash toward the banks of the Nile, eager to find relief in the cool waters while ladies fan themselves under the shade of palm trees. Thick mud huts keep families cool under the boiling sun. It would be 1,892 years before the first ice cubes would be invented and nearly two millennia until air conditioning. Even Jesus Christ wouldn’t be born until another 48 years. But what you have are the teachings of Aristotle and the works of Euclid. You're the first and only female scholar at the Library of Alexandria, the first institute of its kind. All your life has been spent in the pursuit of knowledge — until the arrival of a mysterious young scholar named Aemond.

Series warnings: period typical misogyny, ancient academia, teacher x student relationship (but they're the same age), violence, fire, sexual content (18+), reader is loosely based off of Hypatia of Alexandria, Targaryens x Ptolemies crossover, character deaths, inaccurate history for the sake of storytelling, accusations of witchcraft, debates on fictional religions, Daemon being a menace.

🏛⏳️

Chapter I: Broken Dragonfly Wings

Chapter II: A Swarm of Locusts - Coming soon.

[esteemdotcom]

📣 submit here!

be sure to indicate if your submission is a gossip or a confession. remember to use those perfectly assigned codenames when referring to muses!

this side interactive feature of the collective is strictly in-character.

muses and codenames :

aarus ji { champagne }

ezekiel hwang { z }

hani bae { honey }

hansol ji { night }

jihwan seo { blade }

jiseok choi { eclipse }

jiyeon choi { aphrodite }

kitae 'lucky' seol { clover }

mina 'emily' park { ice princess }

minjae lee { simon }

minji jo { ptolemy }

miran choe { black swan }

nabi 'stellar' son { black cat }

nari baek { velvet }

noa choi { bobalove }

phoenix lee { baby martini }

sangwon kim { wild card }

seonu choi { ray of light }

sienna im { babydoll }

subin park { valentine }

theodore 'teddy' kim { smileyface }

yejun kim { adonis }

yiho nam { dalnim }

yihyun jang { hierophant }

yohan kim { marble }

[april-pad]

5 Amazing Facts About Uranus That You Didn't Know

There are four planets in our solar system that has rings around them, namely Jupiter, Neptune, Saturn, and Uranus. These planets also form part of a group of planets known as the gas planets and scientists believe that their rings were generated over time. This means that at some point in time, they never existed. One of the most interesting of these giant planets in our Solar System is Uranus. The name Uranus was derived from the Latin form of the popular Greek god Ouranos. Here are 5 interesting facts about this gas planet that you might not know. #1: Uranus Was the First Planet Discovered Using a Telescope

In 1781, the British scientist William Herschel discovered the seventh planet from the sun, classifying it then as a comet. Long before Herschel, scientists dating back to 128 BC were believed to have observed the planet and listed it as a star. However, it was not until April 23, 1781, that the English Royal Society informed Sir William Herschel that Uranus was a planet. #2: Uranus Is the Coldest Planet in The Solar System When Herschel reported his discovery, the size of the Solar System also doubled since Uranus is twice the distance from the sun as Saturn. This also makes it the coldest planet of all recording an estimated minimum temperature of 49 K (−224 °C; −371 °F). According to scientists, the planet 'is a gaseous cyan-coloured ice giant.' This is due to its unique voyage around the sun equaling 84 Earth years. Of these years, 42 of them are made without any form of sunlight. #3: You Can See the Planet with the Naked Eye For years scientists and astronomers have been looking at Uranus without knowing that it was a planet. About 128 BC, the Greek astronomer Hipparchus recognized the planet as a star. Later, Claudius Ptolemy published it as a part of his findings. Other important astrologers and historians have all gazed at the amazing solar body reporting their sightings. In 1690 John Flamsteed observed it about six times calling it 34 Tauri.  Half a century later, in 1750 the French astronomer Pierre Charles Le Monnier observed the planet about twelve times. #4: Uranus Was First Called Neptune!

After Herschel's amazing discovery was confirmed, the scientific community decided to name the planet. The discoverer chose to label it as Georgium Sidus (literally George's Star) in honor of King George III.  However, outside of London, this name was not so popular, and new names were quickly added to the planet. Notably, over ten other names were used including one from the Swedish astronomer Erik Prosperin who proposed calling it Neptune. #5:  Uranus Orbits the Sun on its Side If you have observed a ball rolling in circles then you may understand how Uranus orbits the sun. Scientists have claimed that the planet has a 97.8° tilt, making the planet roll around the sun instead. Another theory about the strange orbit of the gas giant states that it was hit by a large planetoid in it its early history.  This is believed to have created the tilt in its orbital motion. Likewise, Venus may have had a similar accident as it rotates backward. As we gaze at the planet and stars that form our Solar Systems, rest assured that one of those ringed, gas giants is Uranus. Read the full article