#Roman bard era

[mothdoesnothing]

SUCCESSION AU WHERE THEY ALL PLAY DND???????????

[summerclementine27]

Sign of The Times 🌹

Summary: Harry Styles is a Roman General who led his legions to many victories. He was favoured by the Emperor and known as an honourable General. Everyone also knows that he loves his wife, Y/N, more than anything, more than victory even, and dreams of seeing her again.

Time and place: Roman Empire sometime between 180 - 192 AD

warnings: bit of smut, breeding, and also old timey vibes due to roman era (so the smut is written in a funky old timey way but i decided to post it anyway).

notes: this is part three of my series of Harry Styles one shots that are inspired by his first album, I’m not doing the stories in order of the tracklist, and I also know that I am changing the meanings of the songs to fit the stories so for instance, sign of the times is about a mother who is dying while giving birth, but I changed it to be about a wife who is urging her husband to come back.

- pics of Harry or AI from Pinterest and the inspiration for this fic is gladiator lol.

The dust of Germania still clung to my skin, mixing with the iron scent of blood that had dried on my tunic. The battlefield had been ours, a victory to be sung by bards and etched into the annals of Rome. But as my men celebrated, raising goblets of wine to their lips, my thoughts wandered far from the camps and the spoils of war.

I could feel the ache in my side where the enemy's blade had found its mark—a shallow wound, they said. Easily mended with time and rest. Yet I craved neither the salves of the medics nor the comforts of the Roman city.

My thoughts were with Y/N, the woman who had waited for me through the years of war, who had kept my heart safe even as my body waded through the carnage of battle. The memory of her letters, the soft parchment that had borne her words across the miles, was a balm to my weary soul.

I cared for nothing as much as I cared for her, for all I prayed for during these years of battle was her safety. “Blessed father, watch over my wife with a ready sword. Whisper to her that I live only to hold her again, for all else is dust and air.” I recited every night, yearning to be in my ethereal wife's embrace once more, where the weight of the world would melt away in the serenity of her seraphic presence.

One of her last letters had arrived not long before the battle. I could still hear her voice in the words she had penned, a voice that had carried me through the darkest nights. I drew the letter from my belt, the parchment worn from too many readings, and let my eyes trace the familiar lines:

“My dearest Harry,” the letter began, “as I write this, I can feel the sun warming my skin, and I think of you, far away in the cold lands of the north. I miss you with every breath I take, and I pray for your safe return each night before I sleep. The fields here are flourishing, the olive trees heavy with fruit, but without you, this bounty feels hollow. The land awaits your return, as do I. I long for the day when you will return to me, when I can hold you in my arms once more, and we can live in peace, away from the horrors of war.”

Her words were sweet, like honeyed nectar upon the lips of a lover, gentle and soothing at first. Yet, as I read on, they grew earnest and urging, the ink heavy with her profound concern. My eyes were drawn irresistibly to the portion of her letter that held the deepest weight for my heart:

“Yet I know, as you read these words, your soul is entrenched in the depths of war, I understand that your mind is consumed with thoughts of victory, that your heart beats with the pulse of battle. But remember, my love, that while you fight for the glory of Rome, Rome shall endure, as she always has. It is you who may not, and it is you I fear to lose.”

Her words were like a gentle whisper, coaxing me back to the world beyond the battlefield. "I beg you, take care of yourself and do not tempt death, for you cannot bribe the door on your way to the sky, you cannot offer coin to the gatekeeper of the heavens, nor sway him with silver as you ascend. You look good down here on this mortal realm anyway. Do not die for Rome, live for her.”

“What shall become of us if we never learn? We have been here before, me tending to the fields of Hispania and you running from the arrows and swords, yet the two of us with the same fate; always caught stuck and running from the bullets. I know what the emperor demands of you, and I know you have led many battles to victory. You hesitate to leave, but you must, my love; you must find your way back to me. Just stop your crying, for this is but a sign of the times.

Stop your weeping, and have the time of your life. Break through the atmosphere of war and bloodshed, things are pretty good from here, Remember, everything will be alright.

Come home to me, my love, come back.”

I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me, a balm for my weary soul. Come home to me, my love. The phrase echoed in my mind, a mantra that had sustained me through the darkest moments of the campaign. It was these words that had driven me to push forward, to fight for Rome but also to fight for my retirement. To earn the rest of my life back and spend it with my divine wife.

As I rode back to the camp, the letter tucked safely away once more, I repeated the words to myself. “Come home to me, my love.” It became a rhythm, a beat that matched the thudding of my heart, the pounding of my horse’s hooves against the ground. Each step brought me closer to her, to the life we had built together, and to the future that awaited us.

The camp was abuzz with the clamour of soldiers and the scent of roasting meat as I entered, my body still bearing the marks of battle and the weight of victory. The Emperor, draped in his imperial regalia, stood amidst his entourage, his presence commanding the respect of every man within sight. I approached with the measured steps of one who has fought hard and earned his rest.

He turned his gaze upon me, his eyes as sharp as the glint of his ornate armor. “General Styles,” he intoned, his voice carrying the authority of the throne, “when was the last time you were home?”

I stood tall, the weight of his question a heavy mantle upon my shoulders. “Two years, two hundred and sixty-four days, and this very morning,” I answered, my tone steady and resolute. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps in surprise or contemplation, as he considered my words.

His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of respect and expectation. “You have led our legions with great skill and valor, General. Rome still has need of such a commander. I urge you to remain in your esteemed position, to continue guiding our armies with the same honor and prowess you have so richly displayed.”

A solemn silence fell over the tent, the air thick with the weight of his request. I took a deep breath, my thoughts drifting back to the letter from my beloved wife, and to the quiet promise of peace that awaited me.

“Your Excellency,” I began, my voice steady but imbued with the gravity of my decision, “I have fought and bled for Rome, and I have served with every ounce of my strength. But my heart and soul yearn for a different path now. I have earned this respite, this time to lay down my sword and return to the life I once knew.”

The Emperor regarded me with a measure of frustration, his fingers drumming upon the armrest of his gilded throne. “You have been a pillar of our military might, General. To leave now, at the zenith of your glory, seems a disservice to the empire that has benefited so greatly from your leadership.”

I met his gaze with unwavering resolve, feeling the echoes of my wife’s words in my heart. “It is not disservice, but rather a fulfillment of a promise I made to myself and to her. I seek not glory nor honor from further battles, but the simple joy of returning to my wife and the life we dream of. My time as a general has been an honor, but it is time for me to embrace a different chapter, one of peace and companionship.”

The Emperor’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding—or perhaps resignation—crossing his features. “Very well, General Styles,” he conceded, his voice carrying a note of reluctant admiration. “If it is your wish to retire and seek solace in the embrace of your beloved, then it shall be granted. Rome’s gratitude will follow you, and your legacy will endure.”

I bowed deeply, the weight of my decision finally lifting from my shoulders. As I walked away, I felt a sense of anticipation and relief wash over me, knowing that soon I would return to the fields of Hispania, to the life and love that awaited me.

"My lord," one of the younger centurions approached me as I prepared to leave camp, a bandage in hand. "We must bind your wound."

I waved him off, though I knew the pain would only worsen on the long ride home. "I'll let my wife take care of me," I said, the words tasting sweet on my tongue, like the promise of harvest in a fertile field.

The journey back to Hispania was slow, each day stretching out like the endless plains we crossed. My thoughts were full of her—Y/N, my beloved, my anchor amidst the storms of war. The land of our villa in Hispania, a sprawling expanse of olive trees and vineyards, awaited me. But it was her presence, her tender touch, that I yearned for with each passing mile.

As my horse’s hooves drummed against the sun-baked earth, I imagined her in the fields, the wind tugging at her hair as she worked, her hands—those skilled, delicate hands—tending to the earth as she did to me. I could see her smile, that secret curve of her lips that had the power to unravel me more than any barbarian’s sword.

Finally, the fields of our home came into view, the golden light of evening casting a warm glow over the land. My heart quickened as I urged my horse forward, a boyish impatience overtaking me.

As I dismounted my horse and set foot on the familiar ground of our estate, I saw her standing there—my beloved, just as I had envisioned, her figure framed by the setting sun, a basket of olives in her arms.

The moment our eyes met, a wave of joy surged through me, overpowering the aches and weariness of battle. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, radiated a warmth and love that I had sorely missed.

Without hesitation, she ran to me, her movements swift and graceful. The air seemed to hum with the electricity of our reunion. As she enveloped me in her embrace, I was struck by the intoxicating scent of her—lavender mingled with the faint, sweet aroma of the earth, a perfume that spoke of home and tranquility. It was as if every hardship and wound I bore dissolved in the presence of her love.

Her arms, tender and gentle, clung to me with a fierce affection. I could feel the softness of her skin against my own, a stark contrast to the roughened textures of my armor and the hardened scars of war. Her touch was both soothing and electric, a balm for my bruised soul.

As our lips met, her kiss was a sweet, fervent promise, a bridge between the years of separation. Yet, as I pressed closer, a sharp twinge from the wound on my side made me wince. She noticed instantly, her eyes filled with concern.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice soft and filled with an anguish that mirrored my own. Her fingers, delicate and gentle, brushed against the tender spot on my side. “You’re hurt…”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper as I drew her even closer. I buried my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of her, the very essence of comfort and love, was a haven amidst the chaos of my return. “Nothing that your touch cannot heal.”

She led me inside, her movements tender and deliberate as if each step was meant to convey her deep affection and concern. The grand hall, though warmly lit by the flickering glow of the hearth, could not compare to the solace I found in her presence. As I sank into a plush chair beside the roaring fire, the heat from the flames did little to ease the persistent ache in my chest that only her touch could truly soothe.

I watched her with a heart full of gratitude as she worked with quiet diligence, her hands gentle yet skilled as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage and began to clean the wound. Her brow furrowed in concentration, each touch and movement imbued with a mixture of love and worry that spoke volumes of her care.

“You should have let the medics tend to you,” she chided softly, her voice a tender reprimand laced with concern rather than anger. The chiding was a balm, soothing and familiar, reminding me of the times we had shared before the endless battles.

“And miss the chance to be in your care?” I replied, my voice hushed but earnest. I reached up, my hand cradling her cheek, my thumb gently caressing the delicate curve. “I’d rather bleed out.”

Her lips curled into a small, affectionate smile despite her worry. She shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, General.”

“For Rome, perhaps,” I said, my thumb brushing tenderly against her skin, “but not for you.”

Once she was satisfied with the bandage, carefully wrapping it with a practiced hand, I drew her into my lap. The firelight danced in her eyes, casting a warm glow that made her seem even more ethereal. Her body fit perfectly against mine, the familiar curves and warmth a reminder of all that I had missed. As our eyes met, the hunger in mine was mirrored by the tender longing in hers.

“I’ve been gone too long,” I whispered, my lips finding their way to her neck. I trailed kisses along her soft skin, savoring the sweetness of her closeness. “I have missed you more than words can convey.”

Her hands wove into my hair, fingers trembling slightly as she tilted her head back, offering me more of herself. “And I you,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that seemed to float between us, a song of longing and love that had played in my dreams during our separation.

I lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in my arms as I carried her towards our bed—the same one we had shared since our wedding night, a sanctuary of our love and devotion. The silks beneath us felt cool and luxurious as I laid her down, the gentle moonlight streaming through the windows, casting a silvery glow that highlighted the exquisite beauty of her form.

As I undressed her with a reverence that bordered on worship, I whispered against her lips, my voice a soft murmur filled with longing and affection. “I have won many battles,” I said, my fingers tracing the curves of her body with a tender touch, as if trying to memorize every line and contour. “But none so sweet as the victory of coming home to you.”

Her hands, delicate yet determined, moved to the laces of my tunic, undoing them with a familiar urgency that made my heart race. “Then claim your victory,” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and anticipation.

I lifted her into my arms, cradling her with a gentleness that belied the strength I had honed on the battlefield. As I carried her to our bed, my heart pounded not from the exertion, but from the overwhelming love I felt for her. The silk sheets, cool beneath us, seemed to whisper promises of solace and intimacy as I laid her down.

The moonlight streaming through the windows cast a soft, silvery glow upon her, making her skin shimmer like alabaster. I gazed at her with a deep, aching adoration, my eyes tracing the graceful lines of her form. Her beauty was both a balm and a flame, soothing the wounds of my soul and igniting a fierce, tender hunger within me.

I began by brushing my lips against hers, savoring the sweetness of her kiss as if it were the nectar of the gods. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and familiarity that made my heart swell. I lingered there, lost in the softness of her lips, my hands gently caressing her face, committing every detail of her to memory.

Slowly, I trailed kisses down her neck, my lips lingering on her pulse point. The sensation of her warm skin beneath my mouth was a caress to my senses, and I felt the urgency of our reunion deepen with every touch. Her breath quickened, mingling with mine, as I moved lower, pressing my lips to the delicate curve of her collarbone.

With trembling fingers, I worked at the laces of her dress, the fabric white and pure, reminiscent of the gown she had worn on our wedding day. As I loosened it, the dress fell away, revealing the soft, flawless skin beneath. My gaze was ravenous yet reverent, taking in every inch of her with a fervor that spoke of my adoration and longing.

I kissed her shoulders with a devotion that made each touch a silent vow. My lips traveled down her arms, leaving a trail of tender kisses that made her shiver with delight. Each kiss was an offering, a testament to the depth of my love for her. As I reached her breasts, I pressed my lips to the soft curves, my tongue exploring with a reverence that bordered on worship.

My kisses continued their journey down her stomach, lingering at the gentle rise and fall of her ribs, tracing the lines of her hips. I marveled at the warmth and softness of her skin, my hands following the path my lips had taken, reverently mapping every contour. The sensation of her skin beneath my touch was a heady mix of comfort and desire.

When I finally reached her most intimate place, I paused, my breath coming in ragged whispers. My heart raced with a powerful mix of longing and adoration. The moment was charged with an intensity I had yearned for during the long years apart, and I could feel the heat of her skin beneath my lips.

With a deep, reverent kiss, I pressed my lips against her, my tongue gently exploring the softness and warmth of her. Her taste was intoxicating, and the sensation made my entire body shiver with pleasure. I heard her gasp, a soft, breathless sound that urged me on.

Her hands gripped the sheets, and I could feel her hips moving subtly, seeking more of the contact she craved. "Harry," she moaned softly, her voice a desperate whisper of desire.

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with devotion and love. "You feel so incredible," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. "I want you to know just how much I adore every part of you."

She responded with a breathless sigh, her body arching instinctively towards me. "Please, don't stop," she pleaded, her voice trembling with anticipation.

My kisses became more fervent, turning into reckless licks, my movements ever so insistent as I reveled in the sweet, warm taste of her. The sounds of our pleasure filled the room, a symphony of soft moans and urgent whispers that only deepened my desire.

I was consumed with a profound longing for her, a desire that had only grown more fervent over the long years apart. Every moment of our separation had amplified my need to show her the depth of my affection, to make her experience the boundless pleasure that only I could bestow. I was keenly aware of the passage of time and wondered if she had discovered any means to reach such ecstatic heights as I would now bring her. The thought of her satisfaction, the notion of her feeling pleasure as intensely as I had imagined, drove me to the brink of my restraint.

With my touch, I sought to awaken her senses, my fingers caressing her with an ever-gentle firmness, the warmth of my hands mingling with her soft skin. My other hand began a tender exploration, slipping slowly, reverently, into her most cherished sanctuary. Each movement was deliberate, intended to elicit the utmost response from her.

“You like that, my dearest?” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion and desire, my breath hot against her ear.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, her voice a melody of pleasure and anticipation, her breath catching in soft gasps.

“I am determined to make you feel nothing but bliss,” I continued, my heart pounding with the intensity of my commitment. “I wish to taste and honor this sacred chamber of Venus, to give you pleasure that will leave you breathless and yearning.”

I leaned closer, my lips finding their way to her most intimate folds. With tender, loving care, I began to explore her, each kiss a testament to my devotion, each touch a silent vow of my love. My goal was to bring her to the pinnacle of delight, to ensure that every sensation was as exquisite and overwhelming as possible, so that she might feel the depth of my longing and the fullness of my return.

In the quiet sanctuary of our shared chamber, a question lingered on my lips, charged with both tenderness and longing. “Did you pleasure yourself while I was gone” I inquired, my voice a gentle murmur.

Her reply came softly, laden with devotion and a hint of wistfulness. “No, my love. I awaited your return.”

Her words stirred something profound within me, an awakening of emotions that had lain dormant through the years of separation. I felt a deep, aching desire to make amends for all the time lost, to bestow upon her the pleasure that had been denied to both of us.

“I yearn for you to find your release, my dearest Y/N,” I said, my voice trembling with fervent intensity. “Release it all, love.”

As her body trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, I could feel the shudder of her release against my tongue. The sweetness of her pleasure was intoxicating, a testament to the depth of our connection. In that moment, I knew that we both craved something more profound, a union that would fulfill the yearning that had grown between us over the years.

With a fervent determination, I slowly withdrew, my breath ragged and my heart pounding with a mix of longing and anticipation. I positioned myself above her, our eyes meeting in a gaze filled with mutual desire and unspoken promises. The need to be fully united with her, to deepen our connection, surged within me.

Her gaze was filled with trust and desire, and I moved with a tenderness that spoke of my deep affection and longing. Slowly, deliberately, I entered her, feeling the warmth and softness envelop me and savoring the way she wrapped around me, the way she sighed my name as if it were a prayer.

“Harry,” she moaned, and I grew concerned, fearing that the unfamiliarity of my touch after so long might be causing her discomfort.

“Are you alright, my love?” I murmured, my voice low and tender, brushing a lock of hair from her face. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of pain and yearning.

“Just... a bit,” she replied, her voice trembling with the effort to contain her emotions.

I continued to move with gentle persistence, my hands exploring her body, seeking to soothe her discomfort. As I found a rhythm, she began to relax, her moans growing more fervent, more eager. The shift from discomfort to pleasure was evident in the way her body responded, and I felt a deep satisfaction in knowing that I was bringing her the release she had longed for.

“Tell me, my love,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers as we moved together, “how does it feel?”

“It feels... so much better,” she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body arched beneath me. “Harry, yes…”

“I want to give you more,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “A family, a future... I want to watch you swell with our child, to retire from the battlefield and spend my days here, with you.”

Her breath hitched at my words, and her eyes shone with a mix of desire and longing. “Yes, Harry… I want that too,” she whispered, her voice a melody of affection and need.

As we continued, I found a rhythm that was both passionate and tender, the connection between us deepening with every movement. I kissed her lips, my hands roaming over her body, savoring the softness and warmth of her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer intimacy of our union.

“I will plant my seed in you,” I vowed, my voice filled with raw emotion. “And you will carry our legacy. Our child will grow strong in your womb, just as our love has grown in this land.”

Her climax hit with a shuddering intensity, her body tightening around me as she cried out my name. The sound was both a release and an invitation, and I followed her over the edge, spilling into her with a groan that echoed my deepest feelings. In that moment, I imagined the life we would create together, the child that would be born of our union.

As we lay entwined in the soft embrace of our bed, the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over our bodies. The silks beneath us were cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the heat of our passionate union. The scent of her, a delicate blend of lavender and the earthiness of our garden, filled the air and enveloped me, mingling with the aroma of our shared pleasure.

Her skin felt like silk against my fingertips as I traced lazy patterns across her shoulders and down her sides. Her breathing was slow and deep, a soft rhythm that matched the steady beat of my heart. Every sigh and murmur from her lips was a melody I’d missed more than I realized during our years apart.

“You look radiant,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion as I gazed at her. Her hair was a tangled cascade of dark curls, spread across the pillow like a halo. Her eyes, still clouded with the remnants of our passion, sparkled with a light that seemed to illuminate the room. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.”

She turned her head slightly to meet my gaze, her lips curved into a smile that was both teasing and tender. “And I’ve waited for it just as long,” she replied, her voice a soft caress. “You’re as wonderful as I remembered, Harry. I’m so proud of you, all you’ve accomplished. And this house—” she gestured vaguely around us, “—it’s been my joy to care for it, to make it a place where you could return and feel at home.”

Her fingers traced a gentle path along my chest, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing across her soft skin, and leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you too, for everything. For holding our home together while I was away, for your strength and your love. It means the world to me.”

Her eyes softened, and she nestled closer, her body pressed against mine in a way that made me acutely aware of the new life we had created together. “And now,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and wonder, “we have something even greater to look forward to. I’m honored to carry our child, Harry.”

I let out a deep, contented sigh, my hands resting on her still-flat belly. “You’re going to be breathtakingly beautiful with our child growing inside you,” I said, my voice husky with anticipation. “I can already imagine the way you’ll glow, the way your body will flourish as you carry our little one. You’ll be radiant, like a goddess.”

Her laughter was soft and musical, a sound that filled me with an overwhelming sense of happiness. “I can’t wait to see you as a father,” she said, her eyes shining with love. “Our child will be so lucky to have you.”

I kissed her again, this time more deeply, my hands roaming over her curves with reverence. “And I can’t wait to watch our family grow,” I said. “I imagine them running through our garden, playing in the sun, filling our home with laughter and joy. We’ll watch them grow, teach them, love them. It will be a new adventure, one that I’m eager to begin.”

Her smile widened, and she traced a finger along my jawline, her touch light and playful. “And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way. Together, we’ll build a life full of love and happiness.”

As we lay there, our bodies intertwined, the weight of the past seemed to lift from our shoulders. The wars, the battles, the bloodshed—they were behind us. What lay ahead was a new journey, one of love and life, and I knew that with her by my side, it was a victory I would cherish for all my days.

[percabeth4life]

I’m sorry if this is a repeat, I have no clue if I sent this in before or not, but what is Aphrodite and Hephaestus’s relationship like, according to the myths and such?

It varies honestly. Like- from a lot of fragments we know he won Aphrodite as a wife by freeing Hera from the trap he made for her (and Aphrodite did agree to wed the one who did so, but supposedly she believed it would be Ares who succeeded).

There's some myths that show them as enjoying time together quite a bit

Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica 1. 850 ff : "Kypris [Aphrodite], the goddess of desire, had done her sweet work in their hearts [and mated the visiting Argonauts with the widowed women of Lemnos]. She wished to please Hephaistos, the great Artificer, and save his isle of Lemnos from ever lacking men again . . . The whole city [of Lemnos] was alive with dance and banquet. The scent of burnt-offerings filled the air; and of all the immortals, it was Hera's glorious son Hephaistos and Kypris [Aphrodite] herself whom their songs and sacrifices were designed to please."

But in contrast she was definitely with Ares

Homer, Odyssey 8. 267 ff (trans. Shewring) (Greek epic C8th B.C.) : "Demodokos [the Phaiakian bard] struck his lyre and began a beguiling song about the loves of Ares and Aphrodite, how first the lay together secretly in the dwelling of Hephaistos. Ares had offered many gifts to the garlanded divinity and covered with shame the marriage bed of Lord Hephaistos. But Helios (the sun-god) had seen them in their dalliance and hastened away to tell Hephaistos; to him the news was bitter as gall, and he made his way towards his smithy, brooding revenge.

And they were shamed for it as "ill deeds never prosper"

I do find it interesting, as a side note, that Poseidon actually advocated strongly to Hephaistos to free Ares, and even offered to pay Ares' debt to Heaphaistos.

Continuing, though there are stories a plenty of their time, an awful lot of what we have actually comes from the Roman era. While these stories are undoubtedly at least partially based in older tellings, we seem to be missing a fair few...

However, in the Odyssey, they actually get divorced.

Homer, Odyssey 8. 267 ff (trans. Shewring) (Greek epic C8th B.C.) : Come, Father Zeus; come, all you blessed immortals with him; see what has happened here . . . You will see the pair of lovers now as they lie embracing in my bed; the sight of them makes me sick at heart. Yet I doubt their desire to rest there longer, fond as they are. They will soon unwish their posture there; but my cunning chains shall hold them both fast till her father Zeus has given me back all the betrothal gifts I bestowed on him for his wanton daughter; beauty she has, but no sense of shame.’"

This line is basically: give me back the betrothal gifts (so we're no longer together).

Notably, in the Iliad Hephaistos is married to Aglaia, rather than Aphrodite.

Pseudo-Apollodorus and Nonnus, Dionysiaca also mention that they divorced. They don't use the words divorce, but they are clearly separated and no longer considered together.

So, they had at least a period of time together, but as Aphrodite loved Ares (whom she'd wanted to marry) they had an affair which ended the marriage with Hephaistos.

Some mythos also mentions that he cursed Harmonia, daughter born of the Aphrodite and Ares affair, but I need to do more research on the origins of this mythos as the sources I've found are both Roman era.

Hope this answers your question!

[natequarter]

a more detailed version of my era shift au:

the captain is a roman soldier. he's the oldest ghost around, and the rest of the ghosts know fuck all about him, including how he got the name captain, or why he's not wearing roman armour, or, you know, how he died...

pat is an anglo-saxon bard who went to the trouble of writing his own poems - but his wife's lover stole it from him, and he's spent the last thousand or so years angry at that rather than fact that he was murdered after getting caught up in a tavern brawl. priorities, man

fanny (originally stephanie, centuries later dubbed fanny by kitty) is a medieval noblewoman married off to (insert title here) george. her cause of death is a mystery lost to history - was it an accident? was it murder? was it a suicide? if they'd just look in a mirror, they would quite literally see the answer staring back at them and yelling at them to wear their hair up properly, disgraceful whores!

thomas thorne is a young nobleman of the 1490s, determined to prove his worth to the lady isabelle in a jousting tournament. too bad that francis clanged him over the head with some heavy metal object. he fell face-forwards and died. convinced that if he just practices enough, he might someday become good at jousting (this is not true)

julian is also a nobleman - a stuart under charles ii this time. it's a bit too early for the time period, but picture the earl of croydon in bill, and you've more or less got the vibe. not actually the owner of button house: he was caught sleeping with the real owner's wife, and beheaded in a fit of rage

mary is a servant from the 1850s. the east wing of button house burnt down after some idiot left a candle burning during the night by accident; nobody else died, because the rest of the household awoke in time to put the fire out, but mary choked on the smoke, and has been very bitter that no one managed to save her ever since

kitty is a stylish young woman of the 1930s. she was invited to a dinner party in the style of an agatha christie murder mystery... unfortunately, this took a far too literal turn when her sister actually did poison her. kitty is half annoyed at being murdered and half kind of vibing with the whole real life murder mystery vibe she has going on, and has been enthusiastically following the attempts to solve the kitty case (as she likes to put it)

humphrey is an ex-soldier and painter who died in the mid-1950s. he was unwillingly drafted into ww2, but managed to survive, go back home, and eventually escape to the countryside and rent out heather button's gatehouse, a welcome break from a post-war world which for a post-war mind was incredibly stressful. he painted and sold landscapes for several years. things were finally looking up! oh, and then he died of carbon monoxide poisoning. absolutely shit way to go after living through two world wars

and finally there's robin, an early 2000s conspiracy theorist who thought gravity wasn't real, tested his hypothesis by jumping out a window, and was very, fatally wrong. his nokia brick is still going strong though

[vacantgodling]

I want to know more about Soprano and Tenor, along with my kings Lath and Ensio <3

henrike!! thank you for asking <3

SOPRANO / TENOR (status: canon!)

soprano and tenor are actually forte (and his sister, melody's) parents! the two of them met when tenor was still a traveling bard, one of the most famous in terrae this era before he retired formally (from traveling at least, you can't take the music out of this man its probably in his bloodstream at this point). it was sort of like a terrae-version of a groupie getting her idol to fall in love with her, though soprano never tried particularly hard for that to happen. his music just enriched her soul and she couldn't help but follow him to every city he held concerts at. one thing led to another, and after they consummated their relationship, she found out she was pregnant with their first child, forte. forte's birth is actually what sparked tenor to retire, though he wasn't upset about it. having a family and getting to settle down in his hometown of bass landing is lovely for him, and who knows? maybe once melody is grown he and soprano will travel around terrae, performing together. soprano actually has a lovely husky voice and the symphonia house was always full of music. they're really gentle lovers and gentle parents and have that sort of toothrotting fluff vibe about them that just makes me Emo.

LATH / ENSIO (status: literally immortal together cannot be separated - qpr territory basically)

god these two i rotate an INSANE amount as you know. idk how much of their backstory i've quite talked about, but tldr they are from the first age of terrae when argos was still standing. lath's parents died when he was young, and ensio's parents who were close with lath's essentially took him under his wing. lath and ensio have always been attached at the hip; if you saw one, you'd always see the other not too far away. while ensio is more outgoing and personable, lath is more standoffish (he hardly blinks and is too intense for the average person) the mesh together really well. they just know each other so well. their fighting together is like a dance. ensio knows where lath keeps his spare daggers and vice versa, and coming into service of the little king mitica together was natural after the day of fissures.

once lath becomes a guardian, MUINENS also grants him ensio as a permanent companion by having him take the form of lath's sword. unlike the other guardians, lath is the one who is Most Likely to have ensio by his side in his human form. think of soul eater, where guardian weapons can take on 2 forms. (the other exception to this is arian) but tbh lath would've never agreed to becoming a guardian if ensio wasn't with him (not that he had a choice, but MUINENS already knew that lath would not take up the mantle alone). lath doesn't view himself as anything that special. he likes to fight and has never experienced terror and he's extremely calculating. his legend definitely softens a lot of his edges, and in many ways has blended he and ensio's personalities together (there's also a statue of lath as a guardian with his sword drawn in the center of the city of lathsbury, which is named after him lol). so its actually really funny in book 2 when some of the characters actually meet lath and they realize... yeah he is actually much stranger and more scary than legend would have us believe. as much as i dislike the roman series that rick riordan wrote cuz of percy character assassination, the cognitive dissonance that the characters experienced meeting percy when he had amnesia and was powerful and intense and kind of aggressive... same vibes when they meet lath lolol. ensio is always the one talking for lath and lath prefers it that way.

in a particular piece i wrote i also spoke about how they're soulmates, and they are in every sense of the word. they're best friends, they're husbands, they're brothers, they're the same person, they're extensions of each other... etc etc. i'm just NOT NORMAL about them.

so here's some required reading (which i know u henrike already read lol) to also become not normal about them:

soulmates

sword of a great hero

also a bad old image of lath, i need to redraw him and his actual ensio-sword (cuz its fancier than this)

[transfemyoungblood]

hello everyone. do you want to hear about my roleslaying with roman time loop au. you will. you will hear about my roleslaying with roman time loop au. (this is a long post, so its under the read more link)

there are three loops. the first two are relatively normal and coherent (although the second one is a bit stranger than the first), but then in the third one, nothing makes sense, and the time-space continuum is falling apart.

the first loop is the canon story-line, as it is.

the second loop is set in a futuristic and highly technological world, drawing inspiration from the early stages of US/EU imperialism and the WW1/ WW2 era. the bard kingdom is a militaristic imperialist empire that has created a sphere of influence worldwide. because this draws on the age of modern warfare, the guards have access to things such as guns, bombs, poisonous gases, and other forms of chemical warfare. the bard college is a gigantic structure located in the middle of a highly futuristic and technologically advanced neon. this is where the fey used to live. the bard king is a lot like imperialist politicians of the 19th and 20th century, meaning that hes very obviously a money-obsessed warmongering prejudiced fuck.

in this loop, youngblood never left the college, and doesn't have any memories from his life before he was enlisted. prior to the events of the plot, he accidentally burned noise (like in canon), but so severely that it killed him. youngblood's guilt over the incident keeps him anchored to the bard college. youngblood is also traumatized by the horrific warfare he had to participate in, and especially by how dire the consequences of modern war technology are. this is inspired by "Dulce et Decorum Est" by Wilfred Owen, a poem written by a former WWI soldier about the traumatic experience of seeing a fellow soldier suffocated by mustard gas. the poem is also very critical of the nationalism that encouraged people to enlist. prior to noise's death, noise was the only thing that kept youngblood from despising the bard college entirely and leaving. noise was completely loyal to the empire, but youngblood loved him anyway.

roman does not remember how or why hes in the bard college, but at the start of the story, its his first day there. he has a vague idea of his family legacy, but doesn't remember his past and has little recollection of his family. still, upholding the legacy motivates many of his decisions. (i have the idea that reston is a mining / steel town, purely because of how important steel and fossil fuels were in the era that i'm drawing inspiration from)

youngblood and roman eventually meet, and have the vague memory of meeting each other before. youngblood is much more volatile and straight-laced. roman's anxiety is much more prominent, and so is his need to be the hero in the situation. roman still wants to be friends with youngblood, and still wants to get to know him better. eventually, roman helps youngblood work through his guilt and shows him that hes worthy of being cared for and that he does not have to suffer through the bard king's abuse, despite the horrible things he's done in the past. eventually, they escape the bard college together. until the loop restarts again…

the third loop is inspired by classic fairytales, drawing from the medieval period and also the neoclassical era, with some inspiration from the renaissance era as well. It also has some inspiration from surrealist art. the third loop is. very strange. incredibly weird. its falling apart, but still running because that's what the loop is supposed to do. the bard college is still built on fey land, but now its an insanely massive superstructure. there are a lot of things in the structure that just don't make sense: windows in the floors and ceilings, doors that lead nowhere, halls that seemingly go on endlessly without any destination, stairs that lead to walls, and unnecessary architectural elements that end abruptly and have no purpose. it's seemingly never-ending, and just expands on and on. everywhere you go, there are flowers sprouting where they shouldn't be. it is impossible to get in or get out without the bard king's guidance, because it is built like a maze. the bard king can also change the entire structure of the bard college at will, making it even more incomprehensible.

there aren't any teachers / authority figures in the school except for the bard king. there also aren't any students / guards other than the known cast of bard characters. there are seemingly other people at the college, but they aren't real, because they're all indistinguishable and faceless.

like in the second loop, youngblood hasn't left the college, and still doesn't have his memories from before he was there. he is much quieter and withdrawn; he presents himself as a perfect prince but has a boiling temper underneath. prior to the events of the plot, youngblood's relationship with noise is extremely rocky. he loved noise during his childhood, but started to resent him over time due to his ignorance of how horrible their situation was, and how unflinchingly loyal he was to the college. eventually he deliberately kills noise out of this resentment. youngblood is incredibly lonely after this and starts to regret his decision. the bard king intentionally fuels his guilt about the situation to manipulate him into being loyal and thinking he deserves to be abused.

roman enters the plot as the perfect image of a knight in shining armor. he doesn't remember anything about how he got to the bard college or why hes there, but like the second loop, the plot starts on his first day there. he has no recollection of his family legacy, but he has a faint, vague, muddled memory of a prince with light hair and dark skin who inspired him to keep living. this memory guides a lot of his actions. he's still the kind and compassionate person that he was in the canon timeline, but his need to be the hero in the situation is very strong, and he does tend to come off as domineering because of this. he's constantly anxious about his lack of memory.

(the prince saving roman's life is supposed to be what is left of his memory of youngblood before this time loop. roman tends to see youngblood as this perfect idealized prince figure, but eventually learns to see youngblood as the nuanced person that he is, and accept him flaws and all)

the end of this loop follows the same structure as the second one. of course, in this loop it would unfold in a different fashion. when roman and youngblood escape the college, there is an attempt to restart the loop again. however, the third loop is falling apart so incomprehensibly that it's nearly impossible for the timeline to be recovered. they're sent to the start of the loop with their memories intact, and their surroundings are practically nonexistent.

[shakespearenews]

Given how he’s become an exalted landmark on the high road of culture, it’s easy to forget that there’s always been a secret smugglers’ path to a more salacious and subversive Shakespeare, one well known and beloved by artists and theater people. The Bard has long been a patron saint to rebel poets and social outcasts, queer nonconformists and punk provocateurs.

...Where the avant-garde led, pop culture followed. Shakespeare’s plays have always lent themselves to all manner of interpretations and they found new life in the postwar era, with landmark works like Basil Dearden’s “All Night Long,” a neo-noir film from 1962, which set “Othello” in a British jazz soiree. Franco Zeffirelli’s “Romeo and Juliet” in 1968 plugged into a different cultural zeitgeist, capturing onscreen the summer of love, while Roman Polanski’s film version of “Macbeth” in 1971 feels like an encomium for the dying utopian dreams of the ’60s.

[subjects-of-the-king]

A New Theory on the Saxon Settlement of England

An original essay of Lucas Del Rio

Note: My previous recent essay had focused on the work of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and to some extent it was a more general historiography. Continuing with a historiographical theme, I had initially intended to follow it with an essay comparing primary accounts of conflict and warfare between Brythonic and Anglo-Saxon kingdoms in the early Middle Ages. During my research, I developed a personal theory that I propose below.

Little is known for sure of the years that immediately follow the withdrawal of the Roman army from Britain sometime around 410. The Latin works that were characteristic of the Roman era almost completely vanish except for a few texts penned by a handful of monks. Literature in Old English does not appear for centuries and is long limited to hymns and poetry, as is virtually everything written in Welsh. Histories written on Britain that discuss this era are mostly from much later in the Middle Ages. The first manuscript of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, a historical text on England commissioned by King Alfred the Great, does not appear until 891. It is sometimes difficult for modern historians to determine when their medieval counterparts recorded the truth versus when they jotted down contemporary legends, especially when they were often writing centuries after the alleged events occurred. Meanwhile, conclusions from archaeological evidence are largely guesswork. 

Several names have been coined for this era, including “Sub-Roman Britain,” “Dark Age Britain,” and “Britain in the Age of Arthur.” Developments that historians do know of are reflected in these terms. Roman Britannia now ceased to exist, and the provinces there which had for centuries been under the central control of Rome had fragmented. The Britons had regained their former autonomy, with the Romans that stayed behind now dwelling in the decaying remains of once prosperous towns. Petty tribal kingdoms reappeared and resumed their old quarrels with one another. Decentralization of national authority meant that there were numerous tiny armies led by local chiefs rather than a massive imperial force that could crush insurgencies. With no organized administration beyond competing warlords, society no longer functioned the way that it had before. Roads ceased to be maintained, aqueducts fell into disuse, bandits opportunistically plundered the countryside, Irish and Norse pirates raided the coasts for loot and slaves, and a barter economy took the place of the discontinued system of Roman coinage.

Not all historians agree that everything about Britain after the Romans left represented a “Dark Age,” however. French writer Jean Markale goes as far as to call the era a “Celtic renaissance.” It is true that the end of Roman administration allowed the Celtic Britons to govern themselves once again, and not always in small chiefdoms. The medieval Welsh clergyman Geoffrey of Monmouth writes of a new Brythonic dynasty emerging in the wake of Roman withdrawal. While Geoffrey of Monmouth is very frequently criticized by scholars, modern historians do recognize that Britain did indeed have some very powerful Celtic kings such as Urien ruling over vast realms like Rheged at the start of the Middle Ages. Some of the wars between these kingdoms were said by contemporary Britons such as the bard Taliesen to have seen massive battles, descriptions of which can still be found in Welsh poetry. Local economies, infrastructure, and security all collapsed, but Celtic culture clung on through these calamities. Christianity fused with traditional pagan elements to form the British Church, which held certain unique beliefs from Rome despite occasional accusations of heresy by popes. Through the efforts of members of this church, especially St. Patrick, the other Celtic nation of Ireland also saw most of her population converted to Christianity. 

Sub-Roman Britain has thus sometimes been romanticized by the Celts of later eras, who do not hold the view that this was truly the Dark Ages. The most immortal hero of the Celtic Britons symbolizes this phenomenon to a greater extent than anyone or anything else that can be said about the period, hence why the term “Age of Arthur” has been used by some scholars and enthusiasts. On one hand, Arthur can be viewed as representing the glory of the Celtic Britons, although he can also be said to be a personification of their downfall as told by their descendants in Wales, Cornwall, and Brittany. By the late Middle Ages, there had been a number of popular “Arthurian romances,” and these novels tended to focus on classic tales such as the sword and the stone, the knights of the round table, and the quest for the holy grail. While some aspects of these stories had roots in Celtic lore, the King Arthur that authors were writing about in the 1400s was far removed from Celtic society. Descriptions of Camelot and his court were actually more representative of that time than the Brythonic era. To the old Britons, however, Arthur was a king intent on preserving the traditional Celtic ways. His earliest appearances in two early medieval chronicles, the 833 work The History of the Britons and the 1136 work The History of the Kings of Britain, portray him as a heroic leader who battled the invading Saxons.

More modern archaeological finds do not indicate there being a sole “King of the Britons,” as Arthur is often called, anytime after the Romans withdrew their armies. Perhaps the Celtic Britons had a system where a single figurehead took charge of the different regional kings during a time of crisis, just as Cassivelaunus had done centuries earlier when the Britons resisted Julius Caesar. Maybe the knights of the round table were an echo of elite Brythonic warriors in the battles that Arthur led. The historicity of Arthur is irrelevant, however. What is more important is that the greatest significance of the most iconic figure of British lore is his involvement in an epic struggle between two peoples laying claim to the land that would become England. Such a narrative dominates much of English historiography. Gildas, the Venerable Bede, Nennius, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Henry of Huntington, and many other early chroniclers highlighted a Saxon invasion that pitted them against the Britons in the southern half of the island. It created England, thus transforming the island of Britain forever. Since medieval times, historians have continued to tell this story.

Like all intellectual disciplines, of course, the study of history evolves. Recent evidence has caused some scholars to challenge the notion that there was a grand war between Britons and Germanic peoples such as the Saxons. They say that the old idea that the Britons were systematically killed off and England was conquered is not supported by the new science of genetics, as the English today still share similar genes with the inhabitants of the region millenia prior to the alleged invasion. The remains found in 1995 of a prehistoric individual in Cheddar Gorge, despite being nine thousand years old, were discovered to be quite genetically related to the locals. A much larger genetic study stretching from 1994 to 2015 concluded that as little as twenty percent of modern English DNA is Germanic. Both of these findings are examples of why these scholars say that the earlier inhabitants of England were never exterminated by the Saxon newcomers and that they merely blended with the indigenous population. D. F. Dale, in his book The History of the Scots, Picts, and Britons: A study of the origins of the Scots, Picts, Britons (and Anglo-Saxons) in Dark Age Britain based on their own legends, tales, and testimonials, even suggests that there may have been a Germanic population in some parts of England even prior to the Roman conquest. Nor can the Britons be considered a homogeneous people, they say, for the same study that was completed in 2015 found great genetic variation between the modern Welsh, Scottish, and Cornish populations. 

All of this new evidence from a rapidly growing scientific field has prompted certain researchers to deny that there was a Saxon invasion at all. Instead, they say, there was a process of gradual settlement. Such a notion completely contradicts primary accounts, however. While medieval chroniclers can certainly be unreliable, they did genuinely understand aspects of their era that we undeniably cannot, and the fact that all of them agreed that there was a Saxon invasion makes it difficult to deny that it happened in some shape or form. Another finding from the aforementioned study could potentially show some degree of ethnic cleansing, for example. People living in Wales today show substantial genetic differences from all other regions of Britain, with the Welsh being more related than everybody else to the original British hunter-gatherers. Wales is a predominantly Celtic region and is notable for the fact that many of the locals still speak Welsh, a Celtic language, unlike Cornwall and Scotland where Cornish and Gaelic, respectively, are spoken only by a small minority of the populace. The Celts, then, can be shown genetically to be either the indigenous population of Britain or at least one who eventually mixed with an older group, and there was likely a great deal of violence in England to cause fewer of their descendants to live there than in Wales.

Considering, however, that all parts of Britain show far greater diversity than mere Germanic descent, it can be concluded that simply more Celtic Britons survived in Wales than in England. This does not mean that there was a genocide against the Britons per se, but rather that ethnic identity in early medieval Britain was closely linked to politics and war. Celts, Saxons, Scandinavians, and the Irish lived in every region, but certain areas were increasingly dominated by clusters of kings from one group or another. The Celts, once the unchallenged masters of the entire island, would go on to rule Wales and Cornwall. Meanwhile, England became the domain of the Saxons, and the Scottish emerged from earlier Celtic, Pictish, Irish, and Scandinavian inhabitants of the north of Britain. English, Welsh, and Scottish kings all had their own armies, of course, each composed primarily yet not not exclusively of their respective nationalities. These armies periodically clashed, and the fact that the kings and nobles belonged to certain ethnicities meant that civilians of other groups were more likely to be victims of violence during wars, even when a kingdom may have been very diverse. Within the various kingdoms in the different regions, one group may have had the privilege of controlling the nobility while another was forced to be under the yoke of serfdom. To put it simply, kings throughout the island had an array of subjects, although the hierarchy of society was still dependent on ethnicity, and the importance of this during wars led to regional stratification. 

To support these arguments, consider the writings of medieval chroniclers. Their stories share both many similarities and differences. All seem to agree that the island had once been the exclusive domain of the Britons, with the Picts and Scots arriving sometime before or during the Roman era. According to the English monk the Venerable Bede, in his 731 work Ecclesiastical History of the English People, states “some Picts from Scythia put to sea in a few longships, and were driven by storms around the coasts of Britain.” Later, “the Picts crossed into Britain, and began to settle in the north of the island.” In describing the origins of the Scots, the Venerable Bede writes “they migrated from Ireland under their chieftain Reuda and by a combination of force and treaty, obtained from the Picts the settlements that they still hold.” He tells both of these stories prior to his description of the arrival of the Romans. Welsh clergyman Geoffrey of Monmouth, in his 1136 book The History of the Kings of Britain, differs in this respect, instead writing of the Picts and Scots appearing at the time of Roman imperial control. Geoffrey of Monmouth writes that “a certain King of the Picts called Sodric came from Scythia with a large fleet and landed in the northern part of Britain which is called Albany.” Next, “Marius thereupon collected his men together and marched to meet Sodric” and “once Sodric was killed and the people who had come with him were beaten, Marius gave them the part of Albany called Caithness to live in.” Regarding the Picts and the Scots, he says that the latter “trace their descent from them, and from the Irish, too.”

These events occurred before the dawn of the Middle Ages and the subsequent coming of the Saxons to Britain, but they demonstrate a similar historical trend of wars based on ethnic control yet not ethnic cleansing. It was a middleground of sorts between genocide and mere settlement because there was indeed violence, although it was to assert political control rather than carry out a campaign of complete extermination. King Sodric of the Picts had the ambition of violently wrestling from the Romans territory that they controlled in Britain, with the Romans then tolerating a local Pictish presence once this hostile foreign king was removed as a threat. Reuda of the Irish would conquer territory that had formerly belonged to the Picts. They must have subjugated the Picts rather than killing them off, however, for the two peoples later mixed to form the Scots. Geoffrey of Monmouth writes that the “five races of people” in Britain were “the Norman-French, the Britons, the Saxons, the Picts, and the Scots.” When he wrote his chronicle, the Normans had conquered England relatively recently, and this shows that they made know attempt to wipe out the Saxons despite stripping them of their power. In his book History of the English, the last edition of which was completed in 1154, Henry of Huntington asserts that the Picts “have entirely disappeared, and their language is extinct.” The Picts thus eventually did die out. Since they survived for as long as they did and the evidence for their decimation was the fact that their language was no longer spoken, it can be concluded that the Picts were gradually assimilated after a long period of Scottish domination.

The appearance of the Picts and Scots in Britain was long before that of the Saxons and the coming of the Normans long after. Medieval accounts show that the newly arrived Saxons were initially quite aggressive towards the local Brythonic inhabitants. At the time that the Saxons emerged on British soil, there were already ongoing political struggles between kings of different ethnic groups. In the most contemporary account, the 540 text On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain, the Romano-British monk Gildas describes how the Britons were to be ruined and conquered while “inviting in among them like wolves into the sheepfold, the fierce and impious Saxons, a race hateful both to God and men, to repel the invasions of the northern nations.” These “northern nations” were presumably the Picts, for the Venerable Bede writes that the Britons “for many years this region suffered attacks from to savage extraneous races, Irish from the northwest, and Picts from the north.” They were vulnerable to attack because the Romans “informed the Britons that they could no longer undertake such troublesome expeditions for their defense.” According to Geoffrey of Monmouth, “about this time there landed in certain parts of Kent three vessels of the type which we call longships” which were “full of armed warriors and there were two brothers named Hengist and Horsa in command of them.”

Apparently, according to The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles commissioned by King Alfred the Great of Wessex centuries later, the reason that the 443 plea for aid was refused was because the Romans were struggling to fight Attila and his horde. With the Britons desperate for any form of help, Hengist and Horsa are said to have earned their trust and then stabbed them in the back. Historians today have no direct evidence for the legitimate existence of Hengist and Horsa other than chronicles written long after the Saxons had established a foothold on the island, yet the story nonetheless reflects a genuine historical timeline. Gildas, for example, claims that the Saxons arrived with full permission from “that proud tyrant Vortigern, the British king.” In The History of the Britons, a work of disputed authorship which may have been penned by the monk Nennius, the Saxon brothers are said to have become friends of Vortigern after their exile from Germany. The Venerable Bede says the result was that the Saxons commanded by Hengist and Horsa fought the Picts on his behalf and “received from the Britons grants of land where they could settle among them on condition that they maintained the peace and security of the island against all enemies in return for regular pay.” These events are early evidence that Britain in this era may have been divided into kingdoms with rulers of particular ethnic groups, but their subjects were a different story. Vortigern was a Britons who presumably was in a power struggle with one or more Pictish kings, although he was willing to both incorporate Saxons into his army and grant them fiefs. Furthermore, his kingdom was structured in a way where society was built around its ethnic makeup. Saxon warriors employed by Vortigern sound as if they earned actual wages, an extremely rare practice in the Middle Ages and even more so in the earliest centuries of the medieval era.

Hengist and Horsa were two Saxons who had the ambitions of being kings of their own. The Venerable Bede writes that “a larger fleet quickly came over with a great body of warriors, which, when joined to the original forces, constituted an invincible army.” It was then that they chose to rise up against the Brythonic leadership, and the fighting did not strictly pit all groups against each other, for he also says “the Angles made an alliance with the Picts.” In these wars, it was the power of a king and not the power of the ethnicity he belonged to that mattered, and he would fight or partner with whoever he had to. Unfortunately for the Britons, they appeared to be cornered on all sides by the newer inhabitants of the island regardless of who fought alongside who at a given time. Gildas records the final and unsuccessful Romano-British plea for help from the imperial forces as including the haunting phrases “the barbarians drive us to the sea” and “thus two modes of death await us.” However, local leadership may still have been deliberately misrepresenting as genocidal persecution of what really just threats to their own power from Picts, Scots, and Saxons. 

Chroniclers in the centuries that followed demonstrate in their writings that the local rulers went many years without letting battlefield setbacks break their resolve. While both Nennius and Geoffrey of Monmouth tell of Vortigern fleeing to a remote hideout and eventually being killed, several of the historians note the victories won by a Romano-British general, or perhaps even king, named Ambrosius Aurelianus or Aurelius Ambrosius. According to the Venerable Bede, he was the last remaining leader in Britain from the Roman era and in 493 led the Britons to win a battle against the Angles for the first time. In one battle that Ambrosius apparently led, Henry of Huntington says that Horsa finally met his death. Geoffrey of Monmouth claims that Ambrosius and his brother Uther Pendragon both were poisoned by Saxon assassins, but the latter was the father of Arthur. Nennius writes of Arthur being chosen by the different Brythonic kingdoms to lead their warriors in twelve victorious battles against the Saxons. He states, however, that this did not cause Saxon leaders in Germany to cease continuing to provide support to those fighting in Britain.

All of these details suggest divisions in Britain between native kings and the Saxons, but none of them demonstrate anything beyond that. Vortigern must have been a highly influential king over large parts of Britain, or else he would not have had the power to have incorporated enough Saxon vassals into his domain for them to gradually muster such enormous military strength. If Vortigern was a king who exercised significant hegemony, it was strategically important for ambitious Saxon war leaders to drive him out of power, but nothing suggests a full-scale deliberate attempt to exterminate the native Britons of his kingdom. The chroniclers all record widespread violence against civilians, but this would have been a tactic of forcing the majority of them into submission. Gildas writes that the Britons “constrained by famine, came and yielded themselves to be slaves forever to their foes.” Class divisions based on ethnicity, often very severe, were emerging in the new kingdoms that were ethnically diverse despite the ethnic divisions in the area of kingship. Mutual oppression unquestionably would have created major animosity and was certainly used by war leaders, such as Ambrosius and Arthur on the side of the Britons, to rally support. Saxons undoubtedly did the same.

In the centuries that followed the arrival of the Saxons, their kings assumed control of more and more of the island. Kingdoms led by Britons persisted in the southwestern regions of Wales and Cornwall, while in the north the Scots settled down and absorbed the Picts. Just as the Britons had historically quarreled, so, too, did the Saxons, who began to be called the “Anglo-Saxons” as they mixed with the Angles. Some of their kings, including Edwin and Oswiu of Northumbria, started to become quite powerful. The Anglo-Saxons found a sense of national unity when they faced a foreign invader of their own, the Vikings, in the 800s, with strong leaders such as Alfred the Great taking charge. During the 900s, the Kingdom of Wessex established the Kingdom of England after uniting all of the Anglo-Saxons and securing a dominant position over Wales and Scotland. A Welsh poem from that century called “Armes Prydein” prophesied that the greatest of the Brythonic leaders from the 500s and 600s would be reincarnated and unite Wales, Cornwall, Brittany, Scotland, and Ireland against the English, yet this has long proven to be wishful thinking on the part of whichever wandering bard wrote its words. Many centuries later, however, the Anglo-Saxons have never fully replaced the indigenous Celts of Britain or her neighbors. Wales still has the Welsh, England still has the Cornish, France still has the Bretons, Scotland still has the Scots, and the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland still have the Irish, even though all but two of these six countries are now a part of the United Kingdom. Britain was diverse then and is diverse now despite the tensions still caused by differences in national identity.

[rhysintherain]

May I ask 8. and 18., please?

8. Do you collect anything?

This is a... Very long answer, so I'll keep it to the very most notable Things.

I collect knives. Have been since I was like 12. I have over 70 of them, ranging from antiques I would never use to ones that live in my pockets for long stretches if time. I have a ww1 kukri my ex bought me one birthday, with a hand-forged steel blade and a rough carved wood hilt. And another, newer but still antique one, probably WW2 era that I know less about the history of. I have a bunch of special forces issue knives I bought new at a slightly shady army surplus store back home. I have a lot of cool little pocket knives engraved with the names of businesses that no longer exist. Probably my favorite is a patterned steel dagger with a triangular blade and a hilt of black, white, and green imitation ivory and stone.

I collect fossils. Mostly I have trilobites, ammonites, sand dollars, mollusks, etc., that I bought at gem shops. I also have a few fish scales and shells I found at a crown land fossil bed when I was a kid.

I collect very aesthetic leatherbound notebooks, not on purpose but because I buy them faster than I fill them up.

I collect outdated books on ancient history, because they say more about the culture that wrote them than the cultures they were written about.

There's more, but these are the most important ones.

18. What historical event would you most want to witness?

I'd like to have seen Boudicca's rebellion, see what actually happened, and if she actually said the things Roman historians claim she did.

I'd like to hear what stories the Celtic bards told about Neolithic stone circles, and what they knew about who built them and why.

I'd like to have seen Gobekli Tepe full of people, and I'd like to have asked them why as they were carefully burying it.

I'd like to have been there when the first boats landed on Haida Gwaii, and asked the people on them what it was like to see a whole new continent for the first time.

That said, a lot of archaeology feels like glimpses of how history unfolded. I can see how a Neanderthal family buried their child, surrounded by flowers and the things they would need to go on alone. I can picture the first people walking north through a rocky, sparse landscape, and their joy when they realised that caribou were coming from the other direction, meaning they weren't walking towards an impassible wall of ice. I can feel the loss early farmers felt for the way they used to live, preserved in an ancient story of a garden paradise humanity can never return to.

So as much as I would like to be there and see for myself as things happened, I think I could still see how the echoes since those events have carried into the present. Everything we know is up to interpretation, but you can still see the shape of past, if you know where to look.

[poemshubs]

What is the Earliest Known Example of Greek Epic Poetry?

Epic poetry, with its vast narratives, profound themes, and larger-than-life characters, holds an essential place in the history of Western literature. Its origins trace back to ancient civilizations, and among these, Greek epic poetry stands as one of the most influential and foundational. Greek epic poetry not only shaped the literary landscape of the ancient world but also laid the groundwork for many subsequent literary traditions. In this article, we will delve into the earliest known examples of Greek epic poetry, explore their cultural significance, and trace the development of this genre over time.

The earliest known examples of Greek epic poetry are generally attributed to two monumental works: The Iliad and The Odyssey, both attributed to the poet Homer. While these two works are often considered the pinnacle of Greek epic literature, they are not the earliest examples of the genre. To understand the full context of early Greek epic poetry, we need to explore the historical and cultural background that gave rise to these works, as well as the oral traditions from which they emerged.

The Beginnings of Greek Epic Poetry: The Oral Tradition

Greek epic poetry, like many other ancient literary traditions, arose from oral storytelling. Before writing systems were developed, storytelling was passed down through generations by word of mouth. In these early societies, bards and poets would recite long stories that conveyed important cultural values, historical events, and religious beliefs. These performances were often accompanied by music, as poets used rhythm and meter to aid in memorization.

The Role of the Bard

Bards or epic poets were highly regarded members of Greek society. They played an important role in preserving the collective memory of their people and transmitting their culture’s mythology, history, and values. In a world where written texts were scarce, oral poetry was essential for the communication of ideas and for educating the public. Bards would perform their epic tales in public spaces like town squares, courts, and festivals. The performances often included the use of epic formulae—repeated phrases or lines that helped the poet recall specific parts of the narrative.

The poems told by these bards were long and intricate, often detailing the lives of gods and heroes, battles, and journeys. The Homeric Hymns—a collection of poems dedicated to various gods—are one of the earliest examples of how the oral tradition served to celebrate divine figures and tell mythological stories.

The Use of Dactylic Hexameter

The earliest Greek epics were composed in dactylic hexameter, a metrical pattern consisting of six metrical feet, each of which could be a dactyl (a long syllable followed by two short syllables) or a spondee (two long syllables). This rhythm, which is both melodic and structured, was well-suited for oral performance. Poets would often improvise within the constraints of the meter, weaving together a rich tapestry of narrative while maintaining the rhythm that their audience expected.

Dactylic hexameter became the hallmark of Greek epic poetry and was adopted by many subsequent epic poets, including those of the Roman era.

The Iliad: The Earliest Surviving Example of Greek Epic Poetry

While it is difficult to pinpoint the exact date of composition for the first Greek epic, The Iliad, attributed to Homer, is one of the earliest surviving examples. Scholars generally place the composition of The Iliad around the 8th century BCE. This work focuses on the events of the Trojan War, particularly the final year of the war and the hero Achilles’ rage against King Agamemnon. With its vast array of gods, warriors, and events, The Iliad provides a window into the values, beliefs, and customs of ancient Greek society.

Plot and Structure

The narrative of The Iliad centers on the conflict between the Greek hero Achilles and the Greek king Agamemnon. Achilles, the greatest of the Greek warriors, becomes enraged when Agamemnon takes his war prize, Briseis. This leads to Achilles withdrawing from the battle, which in turn causes the Greeks to struggle against the Trojans. The gods, who are also major characters in the poem, intervene in human affairs, often aiding or hindering the various heroes.

While the plot revolves around the rage of Achilles, it also explores themes of honor, fate, and the relationship between gods and humans. The poem is filled with detailed depictions of battles, heroism, and the complex relationships between the characters. It is also known for its vivid and sometimes tragic portrayals of the human condition.

Cultural and Religious Significance

The Iliad is not only a historical or military tale; it is also a religious and cultural document. The gods in the poem represent the Greek understanding of fate, power, and the natural world. Their influence on mortal affairs emphasizes the idea that human beings are subject to forces beyond their control. The poem reflects the Greeks’ belief in the importance of honor and reputation, which were often tied to the idea of personal and familial legacy.

The Iliad is considered a cornerstone of Western literature, influencing countless poets, philosophers, and writers in the centuries that followed. It set a precedent for the epic genre, and many of its themes, such as heroism, revenge, and the consequences of war, continue to resonate in literature today.

The Odyssey: The Follow-Up to The Iliad

The Odyssey, also attributed to Homer, is another foundational text in the Greek epic tradition. It is often considered a companion piece to The Iliad, as it deals with the aftermath of the Trojan War and the return of the Greek hero Odysseus to his home in Ithaca. While The Iliad focuses on warfare, The Odyssey delves into the themes of homecoming, adventure, and the challenges of life.

Plot and Structure

The story of The Odyssey follows Odysseus as he attempts to return home after the fall of Troy. His journey takes ten years, during which he faces numerous challenges, including encounters with the Cyclops, the sirens, and the goddess Circe. Odysseus’ resourcefulness and cunning are central to his survival, and the poem emphasizes the importance of perseverance and loyalty.

While The Iliad is more focused on themes of rage, fate, and glory, The Odyssey explores the emotional and spiritual aspects of a hero’s journey. It examines themes of hospitality, loyalty, and the desire to return to a place of comfort and stability. In many ways, The Odyssey complements The Iliad, offering a contrasting view of heroism.

The Influence of The Odyssey

The Odyssey has had an immense influence on Western literature, particularly the genre of the adventure story. Its themes of travel, survival, and the struggle against adversity resonate with readers across time periods and cultures. The character of Odysseus himself, known for his intellect and cunning, has become one of the most enduring figures in classical literature.

The poem also provides insight into Greek religious beliefs, as it contains numerous references to gods and goddesses who guide or hinder Odysseus’ progress. The influence of the gods on human destiny is a central theme that unites both The Iliad and The Odyssey.

Earlier Examples of Greek Epic Poetry

While The Iliad and The Odyssey are the most famous examples of early Greek epic poetry, they are not the only ones. There were other poets and poems that contributed to the development of the epic form before Homer.

The Epic Cycle

The Epic Cycle refers to a series of poems that were part of a larger narrative about the Trojan War and its aftermath. These poems, which were composed before and after The Iliad, were part of the oral tradition that preceded Homer’s works. While most of these poems have been lost to history, fragments of them have survived, and they offer important insight into the development of the Greek epic tradition.

Some of the major poems in the Epic Cycle include:

The Cypria, which tells the story of the events leading up to the Trojan War.

The Aethiopis, which deals with the arrival of the Ethiopian hero Memnon and his death at the hands of Achilles.

The Little Iliad, which covers the events following the death of Hector, including the story of the Trojan Horse.

Though these poems are not as well-known as The Iliad or The Odyssey, they represent an important stage in the evolution of Greek epic poetry. They reflect the same themes of honor, war, and fate that are central to Homer’s works but offer different perspectives on the same mythological events.

The Legacy of Greek Epic Poetry

Greek epic poetry, particularly the works of Homer, continues to have a profound influence on literature and culture. The themes of heroism, fate, and the human condition explored in these ancient texts have remained relevant throughout history, inspiring countless works of literature, from the epics of the Roman poet Virgil to modern novels, films, and even video games.

Greek epic poetry also laid the foundation for the development of Western literary traditions. The structure, style, and themes of the epic genre influenced the way stories were told in the West for centuries. The heroic ideal, the depiction of gods and their relationships with humans, and the exploration of human nature remain key elements of literature today.

Conclusion

The earliest known examples of Greek epic poetry are monumental works that shaped not only ancient Greek culture but also the trajectory of Western literature. While The Iliad and The Odyssey by Homer are the most famous and enduring examples of Greek epic poetry, earlier works, such as those in the Epic Cycle, also played a vital role in the evolution of the genre. These poems, rooted in the oral tradition, reflect the values, beliefs, and myths of ancient Greece and continue to resonate with readers and scholars around the world. Through their exploration of heroism, fate, and the divine, Greek epic poetry remains a timeless and influential part of the literary canon.

[writer59january13]

February 29th, 2024

Alternately titled: 111th leap year since 1582

the year Pope Gregory XIII world leader

(i.e. essentially paterfamilias among Roman Catholic flock)

timely maneuvered around calendrical rock

and hard space implementing viable system tracking years ad hoc

out of sync and lock

step by one day

with astronomical calendar,

slated more'n acceptable tick tock

off kilter around the year of 4818*

after common era making mock

re: regarding mankind organizing and

witnessing global chockablock

Democratic celebratory anniversary party

millenniums after Republican dynastic deadlock

thoroughly walled imponderable gridlock

worse fate than quaffing hemlock

practically snuffing out lock, stock

and barrel constitutional birthrights

thirteen original American

founding fathers ghosts experiencing shock

how initial inalienable rights

activists sacrificing life and limb

united with linkedin armlock

said freedom fighters shackled within crowded jail moldering cinderblock

cold upon hemorrhoid riddle buttock

diehard libertarians unified, pilloried, denounced

legion with repulsion as Shylock

purported, reputed, touted playwright

(William Shakespeare's sited anti semite The Merchant Of Venice) doth mock

Judaism in vogue four hundred plus years ago,

smoldering think white supremacists i.e. skinheads

violently aiming to knock

non Caucasians upside the head courtesy pistol whip,

and/or emptying gunstock

into human flesh disenfranchise scaring up

one after another racial and/or ethnic aftershock

aforementioned celebrated bard unwittingly

strictly opinion of me:silly poet -

despite hashtagged as laughingstock, (plus vitriolic objection taken)

voiced by Shakespearean expert defenders,

yours truly reckons mine thought provoking blurb

regarding storied, lauded, and feted Globe theater

literary King my interpretations not crock Earth's orbit around the Sun (year)

and rotation on its axis (day) where

latter not perfectly in line there

by necessitating

smooth functioning of Gregorian calendar

(also called New Style Calendar)

which did premiere

fifteen eighty two courtesy king's spear.

Ever since 1752, whence

in the modern sense

the first leap year implemented

madding crowds reportedly rioted most likely uttering expletive

than "what nonsense"

reportedly riots erupted

courtesy chaos did arrange,

when England made the change spurring some citizens

demanding immediate compensatory exchange they get their 11 days back home on their range

from the government haint so strange.

To determine whether a year is a leap year, follow these steps without Fanfare

For The Common Man the famous title of Aaron Copland air:

If the year is evenly divisible by 4, go to step 2. Otherwise, go to step 5.

If the year is evenly divisible by 100, go to step 3. Otherwise, go to step 4.

If the year is evenly divisible by 400, go to step 4. Otherwise, go to step 5.

The year is a leap year (it has 366 days).

The year is not a leap year (it has 365 days)

* The Gregorian calendar will have gained a day by the year 4818 CE (2,794 years from now), so at some point there will be a Gregorian leap year specially made not a leap year. The logical thing to do would be to make 3204 CE not a leap year, pushing the calendar from 1/2 day ahead of the solar year to 1/2 day behind the solar year. Making that decision is about 1,000 years in the future. The Gregorian calendar is still slightly too long relative to the mean tropical year (which very slowly gets shorter). At some point in the future, it will be necessary to have fewer leap years (or days), not more. No one has agreed to anything yet, but the 400 year centennial rule could be changed to 500 years, the millennial leap year in 4000 (and some other future dates) could be skipped, various other possibilities, but all require a reduction in leap years, not a double leap year or extra leap years. The first leap year was in 45BC. There were supposed to be 12 leap years from 45BC through 1 BC, but there might have been an extra because the Romans initially botched the implementation of the system. But let’s say there were 12. Then, had the Julian calendar been kept all this time there would have been another 500 leap years from 4AD through 2000AD for a total of 512 leap years by now. But most of us are using the Gregorian calendar. This fact makes the question subject to different interpretations. When switching to the Gregorian calendar countries using it agree to retroactively cancel leap years that the Gregorian calendar would not have recognized if it were in place since the beginning (45 BC). 1BC would still have been a leap year (it corresponds to 0000AD) but of the remaining intervening 20 years ending in 00AD, only 5 of them would have been leap years, meaning, if you accept that interpretation, 512–15 = 497 is the total number of leap years so far.

But there’s another interpretation, that once a leap year is acknowledged in a place in history, there was a leap year then regardless of whether the Gregorian calendar was adopted there at some time later. Since the dates of adoption range from the late 1500’s to the early 1900s that would mean that some places have skipped over only 3 leap years out of the 512 (beginning with 1700) some 2 leap years of the 512, some 1 of the 512, and some haven’t skipped any (those places that kept the Julian calendar until around WWI, such as Russia.) So in this interpretation, depending on the country you’re interested in there have been either 509, 510, 511 or 512 leap years since 45BC.

[laemperatrizmariana]

This OC was almost going to be a Venom parody, except instead of being a beefy hunk (like Eddie Brock) with a slime alien (Venom), he was going to be a "spindly little bard" (some Greco-Roman-coded Twink) with some fungus monster (a cute glowing mushroom who can shape-shift). But I decided against it, not because of cowardice, but because the twink is supposed to be the only "normal human" in the main character group. I could still make him wear the mushroom as power-armor though...

The main character group is basically:

Cyberpunk Era genetically-engineered supersoldier who is a shapeshifter and was sent to what is presumably the past. He craves monastic life, but is also too horny.

Lady who is literally a living cookie. Her blood is so sweet that vampires can get hyperglycemic shock if they try to drink her blood, yet she is still technically a human.

Lady who is a meat puppet for a powerful being that is trapped in a magic space rock. She can control gravity and pick up things with her mind. She likes to sew.

The little bard who denies he's a bard because he never went to a bard college. His family disowned him because he became a Jester and didn't want to marry some rich creep.

[sweetlog]

Punning Through Time: Exploring the Origins and Earliest Documented Puns 🗝️📜🤔

Origins of Puns: A Linguistic Odyssey

Puns, often celebrated as the "lowest form of wit" by some and the "highest form of humor" by others, have a rich and diverse history. The roots of puns can be traced back to the playful nature of language itself. As language evolved, so did the propensity for clever wordplay and double entendre.

1. Ancient Wordplay: Puns in Ancient Civilizations

The earliest inklings of puns can be found in the linguistic traditions of ancient civilizations. In Sumeria, where cuneiform writing flourished, there are examples of puns inscribed on clay tablets. The playful manipulation of sounds and meanings transcended cultures, from Egyptian hieroglyphs to Chinese characters, showcasing the universal appeal of linguistic wit.

2. Punning in Proverbs: Ancient Wisdom with a Twist

As civilizations developed, puns found their way into proverbs and sayings, infusing wisdom with a touch of humor. Ancient cultures, including the Greeks and Romans, incorporated puns into their oral traditions. These linguistic gems served not only as sources of amusement but also as mnemonic devices for passing down cultural knowledge.

3. Shakespearean Wit: Puns in the English Renaissance

The Elizabethan era marked a golden age for puns, with William Shakespeare emerging as a virtuoso of wordplay. In Shakespeare's plays, puns were employed not merely for comedic effect but as nuanced expressions of characters' thoughts and emotions. The Bard's masterful use of double meanings elevated puns to an art form.

4. Print Culture and the First Documented Puns

With the advent of the printing press, puns found a new playground in the realm of printed literature. The first documented puns in English can be traced to the 16th century. Thomas Nashe's work, "Have with You to Saffron-Walden," published in 1596, contains an early instance of punning, revealing how this form of humor seamlessly adapted to the changing landscape of language and communication.

5. Puns in the Modern Era: From Literature to Pop Culture

Puns continued to evolve in the modern era, becoming integral to literary works, advertising, and even everyday conversations. Authors like James Joyce and Lewis Carroll embraced puns in their writings, showcasing the enduring appeal of linguistic playfulness.

[therealvinelle]

I agree that Aro definitely is not straight, but if he is gay and not bi, why window shop for a wife? If he wanted a partner for some reason, why not find a male one? It was a different era, yes, but are vampires really homophobic?

So, for this meta, we’ll have to get historical. Before we do, keep in mind that while I know Ancient Greece better than most, having studied it (introductory level classes only, mind), I don’t know it well enough to be any kind of authority on the matter. History, more than any other discipline I can think of, is not respected as an academic field, and people with poor to no understanding of historical hermeneutics will make very bold assumptions that they then have too poor understanding of history to realize are bullshit. This is a disclaimer because I don’t want to join in on the chorus of authoritative-sounding people on the internet with no verifiable credentials who spout things about history that are then taken to be gospel truth by readers because the author made it sound good.

More, I say this because your question is asking me to explain the morality and social norms surrounding a character from 14th century BC Greece. And this man would not, for the record have been Ancient Greek, he would have been Mycenaean Greek. Very quick history lesson: Mycenaean Greece was a flourishing society that suffered a downfall, Greek civilization fell into its very own dark ages, until around 800 BC when Greeks began forming what would become the Ancient Greece we know and love. This in turn means that I can’t very well read up on the marital and sexual norms of Ancient Greece when I’m researching for Aro, because he was five hundred years old already when Ancient Greece became a thing.

And your question concerns cultural history. And for that we’re going to have to look at how we know the things we know about history. How history is studied.

Historians have two kinds of sources: archeological findings and written records. (I’m aware that oral tradition, like the one carried by the Aborigine people, isn’t technically one of these, but to my understanding it’ll be treated to similar analysis as written records, which leaves us with the two types of sources standing strong.) These sources are analyzed, and we apply various theories and models onto them to make sense of the context they were written in. The more sources we have, the more we can refine or eliminate these theories or models.

More, history is an ever evolving field. There are movements and schools of thought that influence how history is written (marxism in history, that is, history as a class struggle, was heavy in the 60′s and I think until the 80′s), which means that how a certain culture will be perceived today is not the way it was perceived a few decades ago, nor will it be perceived the same way a few decades in the future.

You see why I am daunted by you asking me to give you an answer about sexual and marital norms for a guy who lived 3000 years ago, and I hope you’ll understand why I feel this word vomit is necessary.

Now, the danger with Mycenaean Greece is that it’s a society it’s easy to feel we know a lot about, because it was the precursor to Ancient Greece, and we know a lot about the latter. But, first of, the reason why we know as much as we do about the Ancient Greeks is the Romans. The Greeks wrote about their history, their philosophy, their government, and they wrote plays and told stories. However, that was two thousand years ago and their writings would have been lost to the sands of time if the Romans hadn’t idolized and sought to emulate their society. This meant preserving their written records. This tradition was carried on by the Christians, in part because Hellenistic philosophy was incorporated into Christian philosophy. We have neo-platonism to thank for Christian asceticism, the “mind over matter” cornerstone.

What I’m getting at with all of this is that we know the insane amount about Ancient Greece that we do because of some very unique circumstances, and so we can make very sophisticated theories about what the Hellenistic world was like. It’s still detective work, but not Pepe Silvia type of detective work. This is not the case for Mycenaean Greece. We know a comparative lot about Mycenaean Greece, considering how long ago it was, but there is very much we don’t know.

With Mycenaean Greece, we are dealing with a lot more uncertainty. We haven’t deciphered one of their two writing styles, and a lot of the text we do have is very fragmentary. Coming up with detailed societal models for Mycenaean Greece, and for the 14th century BC specifically, is... well I don’t know enough about what this society left behind to know what historians have to work with, but I imagine they have their work cut out.

More, I haven’t studied this at all, which means that any attempt on my end to research this would be stumbling around in the dark.

One example: the Illiad and the Odyssey, while composed around the 8th century BC, were set in the early 12th century BC, which is nearly Aro’s time period. The Illiad depicts a homoerotic relationship between Patroclus and Achilles, and both works depict a lot of matrimonies, so I wish I could use it as a source. However, not only would this time gap alone make these sources questionable, but there’s also the matter of the Illiad and the Odyssey being transmitted orally, from bard to bard. Changes were made over the years. For example, the technology described in the Illiad is from several eras, as the warriors will be using bronze weaponry in one book and then switch to iron in the next. This game of telephone is what happens when a story is transmitted orally from person to person. So, while it’s tempting to use these works as a sort of reference point, the possibility, likelihood even, that the bards made adjustments to keep the old story entertaining for their contemporary audience is strong.

For this reason, I can’t give you any kind of historically correct analysis on what the marital or sexual mores would have been like in Aro’s time. Even if the knowledge is out there, I don’t have it.

But I can say this, spouses have for the longest time been partners. Men and women got married, even in the gay, gay, Ancient Greece, not just to have children but because they complemented each other, they were partners. Men needs wives, and women needs husbands. And a partner was canonically exactly what Aro was looking for, feelings had nothing to do with it:

After Caius and Marcus had found their romantic attachments, Aro decided to find his own, although rather than finding his other half in another vampire Aro decided to create his own instead. Aro had a certain type of woman in mind and he found what he was looking for in Sulpicia. He successfully courted her and she came to fall in love with him.

As for vampires being homophobic, I think that is for another post about what culture they bring with them into their new life. But to be brief I’ll say that while the individual vampire can be homophobic, there can be no homophobia at an institutional level because vampires have no institutions. And it’s the institutional homophobia that gets ya. It’s what the whole fight for gay rights has been about: secure legislation against discrimination and that protects gay people. (The right to marry and protection from employees firing LGBT employees comes to mind as examples of this.)

So, no one could force Aro to marry a woman. 

And I’d go into a rant here about how the prospect of gay marriage, of even identifying as homosexual (the labels homosexual, bisexual, and heterosexual are very new and, to my recollection, were born off of the Western psychiatric discipline as men who slept with other men were diagnosed with homosexuality. I imagine a man from the Antiquity would be confused at the notion that just because he likes to sleep with dudes he shouldn’t get married to a woman), was unthinkable up until very recently, but I just made this obscenely long rant about how I can’t really make these kinds of guesses, so I’m not gonna.

I think being married to a woman and then banging hot dudes who came along suited Aro just fine.

Also, I can’t believe I’m doing this, but - I’m going to encourage history asks. Because this fandom has a bit of a history problem, as a lot of the characters are from different time periods and many feel unsatisfied with the way Meyer handled that. I am by no means a historian, but I know several of the historical periods the characters of Twilight are from well enough to make educated guesses.

So, hit me with your worst.

[findroleplay]

30+. She/Her. Looking for 18+ (preferably 21+) writing partners for some fandom roleplays. 

I'll list my fandoms and some of my favorite ships from them (with the character in bold and colored, if there is one, the one I'd prefer to write). None of the lists are exhaustive. I'm open to other ships and can write more characters (and might be willing to try new ones) than are listed. So feel free to suggest anything to me. Having said that, though, I'm mainly looking for canon x canon pairings (MxM, MxF, or FxF). I'm willing to listen to OCs you might have but I only want to do MxM ships there. And I like canon/canon divergent plots. No AUs that are way out there.

NSFW/smut isn't necessary for these. I'm definitely open to writing it or of just fading to black or keeping things strictly SFW. I don't have any triggers so I'm fine with doing pretty much anything.

My preferred place to write is Discord but I can work other ways out with you. And I like to stick to Tumblr messages for plotting purposes because I'm more active over here than on Discord. 

Anything with an exclamation point next to it (!) is something I'm very interested in doing, and the fandoms are listed from what I'm most interested in doing stuff with to least interested but I'll still do it. 

Game of Thrones:

Beric x Thoros, Bronn x Jaime, Dany x Jorah!, Dany x Jon, Dany x Sansa, Dany x Margaery!, Jaime x Cersei!, Margaery x Sansa, Margaery x Joffrey, Margaery x Stannis!, Petyr x Sansa, Robb x Theon, Robb x Jon, Roose x Stannis!, Roose x Tywin!, Roose x Sansa!, Sansa x Tyrion, Sansa x Stannis!, Stannis x Davos!, Stannis x Melisandre, Tywin x Aerys, Tywin x Shae

Grand Theft Auto V:

Devin x Steve!, Devin x Michael, Devin x Franklin, Michael x Trevor, Michael x Dave, Michael x Steve, Steve x Dave!, Steve x Trevor, Trevor x Ron

Grand Theft Auto IV:

Dimitri x Niko!, Dimitri x Faustin!, Gerry x Niko!, Gerry x Packie, Faustin x Niko!, Niko x Packie!, Niko x Ray!, Niko x Brucie, Ray x Jimmy, Roman x Bernie  

Saw Franchise:

Hoffman x Strahm!, Hoffman x Amanda, Schenk x Zeke!

Halloween Franchise:

Michael x Loomis!, Michael x Allyson, Michael x Tommy (H6 Tommy ; not HK)

Middle-earth/Tolkien Universe:

Bard x Thranduil!, Bofur x Bilbo, Boromir x Aragorn, Boromir x Faramir, Celeborn x Haldir, Elrond x Glorfindel!, Elrond x Lindir!

Scream Franchise:

Amber x Tara, Amber x Richie, Amber x Mindy, Billy x Stu, Dewey x Gale!, Dewey x Randy!, Dewey x Roman, Jill x Charlie, Jill x Kirby, Mickey x Derek, Mickey x Randy!, Mickey x Tatum, Richie x Sam

The Walking Dead:

Beth x Daryl!, Beth x Rick, Beth x Negan, Gabriel x Negan, Gabriel x Rosita, Gareth x Rick, Merle x Glenn!, Merle x Daryl!, Merle x Milton, Merle x Andrea, Merle x The Governor, Negan x Rick!, Negan x Simon, Jesus x Daryl!, Jesus x Aaron, Shane x Rick!, Shane x Lori, Simon x Gregory!

Supernatural: 

Ketch x Mick!, Ketch x Dean!, Azazel x John, Azazel x Sam, Benny x Dean, Chuck x Sam!, Chuck x Dean, Dean x Lucifer, Dean x Crowley!, Dean x Garth, Dean x Bela, Lucifer x Sam!, Mick x Sam

Harry Potter Universe:

Barty Crouch Jr. x Draco (18+ for his age), Dumbledore x Grindelwald (Fantastic Beasts era only)!, Lockhart x Quirrell!, Snape x Lucius, Snape x Harry (18+ for his age)!, Snape x Lupin, Snape x Lily

If interested, like this post and I'll message you or message me!

I strongly prefer that you message me first because lately, whenever I reach out first, I never hear back from people. If you reach out first, then I know for sure that you're interested in working something out.

-

[bean-na-farraige-agus-foraoise]

Druids ain’t shit and here’s why.

Straight from the Pond- here’s a lesson from your friendly neighborhood historian.

It’s a long post so the history lesson is under the cut. 

Druidic “history” (or pseudohistory rather) actually begins with early renaissance politics. 

Basically Italy is dominating politics and religion by being able to call back to an ancient history that led directly into the formation of the centralized Catholic church. Surprising nobody who's familiar with European history- the German states want in on that action but they don't really have that direct line linking them to antiquity beyond their conquering by Rome- so, like any good 15th century academics, they create that link by just making shit up. 

So they look back at ancient roman writings, and see mention of druids, and also realize that they actually don't know fuck all about them, there's no records of them beyond a few classical authors- and for the record, classical authors are NOTORIOUSLY unreliable, there are entire graduate level seminars dedicated to teaching people how to read through ancient Roman propaganda, almost every druid I have ever met has taken classical authors at face value, anyway I digress, they just start making up a history of the druids, German lands used to be populated by Celts, and they create these mystical druids who serve as the direct precursor to The Church in these areas, like they forge documents and everything so when Italy goes "oh yeah since when?" they have something to hold up as a "gotcha" - they fashion statues and hide them in crypts as further evidence. It’s wild. 

So, France sees that the German states are becoming more politically popular within the HRE (Holy Roman Empire) because of these druid stories, and so they go "Hey Celts used to live in France too... we should have druids"- and they create druid stories. Scotland at the time is very close with France politically and they go "Hey us too, we're still Celts,” and then it spreads to Wales, and then England. Ireland is mostly staying out of druid nonsense- like in this period of the OG pseudohistories Ireland is like "this is disgusting we don't want druids" so like all the writings in Ireland in this period on druids are like "yeah the Church HATES druids"

Things quiet down for a little bit, because the stories are established, the cards have been played, whatever, but then Neo-Classicism and the Enlightenment- and now suddenly it's cool to have ancient history again - but like... Britain has "we got conquered by Rome" or "hey a few centuries ago people were saying we had druids?”; so naturally the more nationalistic go with druids....which is how we get, Iolo Morganweg.  Iolo's real name is Edward Williams but he insisted on going by his "bardic name"- bc druids.  Williams was a Welsh antiquarian- who is in some scholastic circles considered the father of “modern” druidry.  Williams literally named his son Taliesin after the bardic poet behind the Poems of Taliesin which is frequently in association with the Mabinogi in Brythonic texts. To pull from the wiki on this asshole: 

[he made] claims that ancient Druidic tradition had survived the Roman conquest, the conversion of the populace to Christianity, the persecution of bards under King Edward I, and other adversities. His forgeries develop an elaborate mystical philosophy, which he claimed as a direct continuation of ancient Druidic practice. Williams's reportedly heavy use of laudanum may have been a contributing factor

Yeah.... just... yeah. So not only did he forge like hella documents, which today in the 21st century, over 100 years after he was revealed as a fraud, are still more popular than the originals- but he also is the reason that ogham is like that. Williams created a ‘bardic alphabet’ based on combining Scandinavian runes and extant ogham - we are still wading through his bullshit trying to fix ogham. 

And this brings us to the Celtic Twilight...... 

To quote @liminalblessings​, “And a bunch of noodle fuckers decide "hey, we didn't bastardize the Irish enough for the last however long.... We should do more of that."” But for those of you not familiar with the term, it's a nationalistic pan-Celtic movement that wanted to like, make the Celts in vogue again? but like their idea of the Celts as "noble savage” - because the modern era was scary. At this point, Pan-Celtic Nationalism is starting to rise as pushback against British colonialism in Celtic nations. Unfortunately it's heavily reliant on the Druid myth as like.... A foundational shared cultural history between the surviving Celtic nations. The point largely is, though, "look at us. We should all be sticking together because we're the same / cousins / brothers". Which leads to a L O T of Celtic culture from various countries kind of getting.... molded into one singular idea- which is USUALLY what we think of today when we think of Celts. Basically everything gets branded as Irish because the Irish were “pure” and a “separate racial identity” as opposed to the Scots and Welsh. It took that idea of a pan-Celtic singularity, and then went ham with it mostly on Irish pre-Christian stuff, and as it occurred not too long after Williams’ fuckery, it really cemented those forgeries and psuedohistories in the cultural memory. And Williams wasn’t exposed as a fraud until after the Celtic Twilight had died down.

Now... Yeats, we all know Yeats- some people recommend his writings for learning about the fairies. DO NOT LISTEN TO THOSE PEOPLE. Yeats makes up an entire tree calendar, and also files all Scottish fairy lore under the “Irish” tab because he’s part of the Celtic Twilight and didn’t you know that everything Celtic is actually Irish? Fuck this guy. #yeetyeats

Enter... Robert Graves- destroyer of histories and all around fuckwit. Graves maked up an ENTIRE religious notion around a mother goddess and shit. And like, the irony of that is the people he supposedly went to originally were like lol dude you're a fucking idiot none of this is real. But he published it anyways and of course it got taken seriously. And then there's a lot of reverse etymology at this point which is just.... really bad linguistics. And because of Graves’ white goddess + said bad linguistics by others, you get Danu.(Danu is a whole thing, please shoot me an ask if you want a post about all of that nonsense). 

So.... Gerald Gardener.... to quote @liminalblessings​ again- “didn’t have a direct role in druidism, except he kind of did.”  See, Gardner had a good friend who was hella interested in the Celtic twilight. Said friend was hella inspiried by Gardner's "recreation" of old British trad witch traditions... But he didn't jive with the old British trad witch traditions. HE jived with Irish Druidry. So while Gardner's doing HIS thing, his friend's doing the modern Druid thing- heavily drawing from Gardner's own work but "making it more historically Druid" Except, as you may have picked up- there is no such thing as “historically druid” that can be reconstructed. Basically he can only pull from Williams, but because he had issues with with the old 15th century on stuff, up to the Twilight era (despite those being his sources) so he tries to distance himself from the earlier movements and leans hella heavy into Gardner's work as a result. Which is, if you've ever wondered, why Wicca and Druidry have such incredibly similar ritual structures and beliefs.

SO, this guy starts the Druid Order, decides that he’s gonna like pull his teachings from Williams- but he's also gonna say that Williams has nothing to do with his druidry because y'know, Williams has relatively recently been revealed as a fraud. This guy goes through the grueling process of ripping off his best bud gardner founding Druidry, right. So The Druid Order has this rebranding in 1951, that lauds the “history of the druids” as written by Williams but simultaneously rejects Williams saying “yeah we have nothing whatsoever to do with that guy.” Mix into this narrative, Gardener’s “burning times” bullshit, and now not only do we have mythical pseudohistorical druids, but a rewrite of Williams’ “the druids survived conversion” which then turned into - “The druids were heavily persecuted by the church and survived a horrible burning times but despite this there’s a tradition of continuous druidic belief.” Here begins the bullshit known as “vestiges of pagan thought”- which took actual historians not even a decade to disprove, and yet still circulates in pagan circles, because nobody picks up a fucking book.  Theoretical Folkloric archaeology became very popular at this time, which postulates (incorrectly) that all folk traditions and folklore absolutely stems from Pagan times and is 100% the Christianization of pagan practices and thoughts- which is not at all true. (Not-so-friendly reminder that Eostre? DOESN’T FUCKING EXIST. STOP FALLING FOR A JOKE MADE BY A MONK)

Td;lr so far- the druids went from 

the Catholic clergy before the Catholics existed 

to 

a religious group that survived conversion

to

druids survived an intense and violent persecution 

And now? In this our 21st century? 

Well.... druidic organizations today tend to still push these ahistorical narratives, that buy into the pagan persecution complex.... and several of these organizations also have known racists and terfs on their recommended reading lists. And while some organizations have made attempts to become more historically accurate- but the end result is usually.... bad. It tends to result in them using a source from like 1960 that’s been disproven 1000 times since by other historians to go “look a historian agrees with us!” rather than like... keep up with current research trends and academic standards. Druids also tend to be hostile to the syncretism of the Irish church which is just..... so fucking dumb. Don’t worship gaelic deities if you can’t accept that our lore are Christian texts about pagan beliefs. 

So yeah..... druids ain’t shit and I can prove it historically. I am also more than willing to send anyone links to full length books on the history of druids if you want to learn more.