#what to see in eastern italy

[wanderlustphotosblog]

Top 30 Things to See in Italy: Your Ultimate Travel Guide

Italy is a captivating destination that offers an abundance of incredible sights for visitors to discover. In this article, I outline the top 30 things that to see that have made Italy a truly captivating destination for travelers from around the world.

Italy is a captivating country that offers a wealth of incredible sights and experiences for visitors to enjoy. From the iconic landmarks of Rome to the picturesque coastal towns of the Amalfi Coast, there is no shortage of must-see things to see in Italy. From the ancient wonders of Rome to the raw beauty of the Dolomite Mountain range, this spectacular country never disappoints travelers. One…

[dvesinthewind]

Heartbeat | Demetri Volturi

In which, you've never believed in superstitions or folktales, but a particular encounter leaves you convinced otherwise.

A/N: I, for one, have never been to Italy so excuse any misconceptions or misinformation. This is my first piece in what feels like forever, as well as my first ever smut. Please enjoy, and I may publish a second part. WC 3.6K

Warnings: 18+, f!reader, smut, language, mentions of blood, mentions of death/murder, smoking, alcohol, Demetri is mentioned to be taller than the reader, sex in public

The city of Volterra is a unique one-- full of ancient architecture, a versatile climate, and a few believers of creatures with fangs and an appetite for human blood. Nevertheless, it became home relatively quickly. Naively, you assumed most of the irrational folklores and legends were left behind lingering in the United States while you remained overseas. This was far from the case, however. Abroad, you met Germans who spoke fearfully of Krampus, and Eastern Europeans who drunkenly confessed their acknowledgement of vampires. As a young visitor in the European city, you were aware of the culture, but you were simultaneously aware of the stories, rumors-- men with crimson irises and women who never showed up to class the next day. To you, it was ridiculous. Another excuse to keep women in check, or inside for that matter. You had to see it to believe it. Yet, as unserious as it seemed to yourself, your roommate was far from a skeptic.

Suspiciously quiet inside her own bedroom, you decided to knock carefully. Your clothed feet tapped onto the wooden floors impatiently, feeling the chill of the floorboards only slightly through the fabric with each rhythmic thump. A soft voice echoed, and you twisted the knob mindfully. Her window was open, allowing sweet spring air to filter the muted room. Her back facing you, she eyed you curiously through her vanity mirror. Curtains danced gently along to the breeze, washing in and out similarly to fresh waves amongst a sanded shore. "Is something wrong?" Maria asked. You shook your head, stepping further into the girl's bedroom. A pair of black heels rested beside her wardrobe, that was cracked open barely enough to peer into. Fuzzy, black cat ears laid innocently on the duvet clad on her mattress, next to a small cocktail dress. Watching your curious gaze, Maria spoke up. “Boring, right? If only I gave myself more time to plan something much... more creative.” A frown etched along her lips, and suddenly you remember your initial concern.

"To be honest, I'm really surprised you're going out at all." You shifted your weight onto one foot, crossing your arms like a concerned parent. A true Italian Catholic, Maria was familiar firsthand with the ghost stories, as well as the guilt. In addition to the generational anxieties, she was taking a course on The Origins of Myths, Monsters, and Vampires, making her excessively paranoid. Weeks had gone by where her flashy clothes collected dust in her wooden wardrobe, and her gaudy jewelry remained unpolished in it's casing, seemingly losing it's initial shine. So, as she clasped a golden bracelet around her wrist, bewilderment nested between your brows.

"It's Halloween," she states simply. "Though," Maria inhales sharply, dropping the makeup brush onto the vanity desk with an audible crash. "I can't help but to think about her--"

"Maria, she--"

"Was found torn apart!" She sobs, tears swelling at her waterline and threatening to ruin her existing foundation. The brunette drops her head into her manicured hands.

Your touch finds her back, caressing where her silk nightgown meets her curled hair. It seemed preposterous-- something subhuman feeding on women you knew personally, something monstrous lingering in alleyways just blocks from an ancient church. Her fears had to be irrational, but as you glanced at her brown eyes and the terror imbedded in them, you wondered if there was a semblance of truth. Just weeks ago, a student was reported missing after a night out. She was familiar to the both of you, yet her remains exhibited anything but. Found with multiple bite marks indented into her tanned skin, she sported a gash so deep within her torso that she could've been split into two. The young woman was nearly unrecognizable. An open-toe heel absent from her manicured foot, she was noticeably brutalized. Her skin was cruelly decorated in maroon hand prints, as if one had skillfully painted them on her mutilated corpse. "You don't have to go out tonight, honey."

Maria tosses her hand up dismissively, then softly dabbed a tissue at her tear-stained cheeks. "I promised Giada, besides, I cannot hide forever," she mumbled. Your roommate returns to her beautification, only to pause and point the edge of her brush at you. "Come with me." Head already shaking, Maria disregards your protest. "It would make me feel better having someone, you know?"

“Must I draw on whiskers too?” You jest.

Maria scoffs, “there will only be one sexy pussy in the club tonight. Find your own costume.”

Singing loudly in the backseat of the taxi, Maria's mood was much brighter. As she moved vigorously to the music, her body continuously knocked into yours, making it difficult to light the cigarette in your hand. Your legs were crossed before you, a small purse resting in your bare lap. Your red cape was tucked behind your sitting frame, and you mentally hoped your costume was easily guessable. Giada was beside Maria, stretching over the console to speak to the driver. You didn’t particularly loathe her, but she was certainly not your favorite of her friends. The blonde was unpredictable, slightly problematic, and was quick to get with any guy Maria showed interest in.

The nightclub exhibited a stone staircase, leading guests down a strenuous journey with a singular railing to trust your balance with. Candles were upholstered against the elongated walls, mirroring something medieval. The wax dried trickling against the chipped paint. Cursing the constructor of the ancient steps, Maria looped her arm around your own. The bass shook the ground beneath you, vibrating against your heels. Amongst the sea of people, remained a variety of costumes and glasses with miscellaneous alcoholic potions, yet under the LEDs, it all appeared the same. Giada swiftly dragged Maria to the dance floor, as Maria gave a pitiful look, and you found yourself residing at the bar counter.

That's when you noticed him. A man with indescribable features remained idly across the bar. His hair could've been blonde, or white, but the lighting only allowed so much to be revealed. You eyed him curiously as he nursed a glass of his own, dark irises staring back at you. Goosebumps rise carefully along your spine, allowing you to feel the tightness of your dress around your torso. Strobe lights flash in, and the mysterious man flashes out-- nowhere to be found once it lights the room again. Trying to shake the image of his gaze, you bring your glass along your lips and force some of the liquor down. It should bother you, shouldn't it? Had he not been strikingly appealing, warmth would not be burning below your waist and teasing along your underwear. You had to be practical, and perhaps there was no man at all. So as a quick hand found it's way along the dip of your waist, you reacted swiftly. "Jesus, Maria!" You hissed, softening as soon as she sat beside you. Eyeing the chilled glass resting before you, the girl smiles. As she reaches out, you watch while the condensation melts into the palm of her warm hand, dripping down her chin as she brings the crystal to her lips. “I would’ve bought you your own,” you scoffed.

Maria hums, taking one last gulp before gesturing to the bartender. She wipes the remaining drops from her mouth, and watches the bartender take away the lipstick-stained glass. “Giada disappeared.” Your eyebrows furrow.

“Disappeared where?”

The brunette audibly shrugs. Seemingly not her first drink of the night, she smiles graciously at the pristine glasses set down before the two of you. Leisurely wrapping her long fingers along the clear cup, her brows shoot up. “With a very large man.” Maria paused, gears visibly turning as she chewed the inside of her cheek. “You know, I promised I’d teach you Italian.”

Any semblance of relaxation had vanished once again. You hated babysitting. You wondered how many drinks Maria had scored whilst you sat longingly on the bar stool. It’s peculiar, her mood now—sitting at the bar, watching as the liquid in her hand swished around the ice cube. “You’re not worried?”

“About Italy?”

“No, Maria, not about Italy. About Giada.”

The woman is unfazed. Perhaps she hadn’t heard you, or perhaps she was apathetic to Giada’s whereabouts. Regardless, you hated repeating yourself— especially when competing with the vigorous bass ricocheting off the warm bodies beside you. Allowing the cold liquid to escape down to the pit of your stomach, you glanced towards the other end of the counter. The same man from earlier was standing confidently once again, except he was no longer alone. His counterpart was nearly a head larger than he, staring over the crowd like a lighthouse would the ocean. His lights surveyed towards your position, and the same chills struck against your spine. This man was easier to make out, with pitch black eyes and tusks of curled hair that pressed against his forehead. It was noticeably tousled, and had you not been staring so long, you wouldn’t notice his shorter companion glance back at you. Maria’s phone begins vibrating on the wooden countertop, dragging your attention away from the attractive duo. “Are you going to get that?”

Maria slowly flips her phone over, revealing Giada’s contact reflecting back at you. Your shoulders lose the built up tension. She's alive at least, you say to yourself. Your roommate mumbles something of needing to meet her in the restroom, and again you search for the man across the bar.

Several drinks later, and you’re stumbling through the stoned streets of Volterra. Thin stiletto heels facing difficulty traveling on the crooked roads, you’re left balancing on the walls beside you. It’s a cruel similarity to the staircase in the night club, only this time there’s no railing to trust your life with. The streets are not always this barren, and for once you’re unappreciative of the lack of the typical chaotic symphony of voices vibrating against the ancient homes you’re sandwiched between. There is no aroma that’s thick of freshly baked bread, or the occasional clang of currency clashing against each other and into the palms of the merchants. There is no chatter of shoppers as they mesh into the bustling market streets. The stalls are devastatingly empty, and as your buzz begins to fade into paranoia, you yearn for someone to guide you home.

A clatter rings behind you, raising the small hairs along the back of your neck. If you could only walk a little faster. You can see the university from where you stood, proud and tall from behind the strip of buildings ahead of you. It’s mighty, and for a second you feel like a devout Catholic approaching the Vatican. Yet, your heart thumps inside your chest, and you find your muscles straining with each quicker step. The organ vibrates louder inside your ear drums, and footsteps are nearing behind you. This is it, you think. I am going to be found with one less stiletto, and bite marks along my corpse. Turning quickly, you’re expecting to meet your fate, but it’s something unexpected. A furrow meets along your brows, and the man raises his hands defensively. “A young woman should never walk home alone, especially not one with your beauty.”

Heart skipping a beat, you internally curse at your nervousness partially calming at the sight of him. A stranger. A man who stared longingly at you from across the club, following in your shadows as you lead him to your residence. And somehow, you’re pleased to see him. Perhaps because he didn’t sport fangs, a massive collar, and a long cape that trailed behind him. Seeing him under the yellow hue of the street lights, only now can you see him perfectly. Nevertheless, you reply, “do you always follow women home?”

The stranger chuckles, and takes yet another step towards you. He is undeniably attractive with a jawline so prominent and a porcelain complexion. His eyes seem peculiarly dark, and then you notice it. An audible hitch in your breath is heard. The man eyes your attire, dragging his crimson irises from your forehead down to your heeled feet. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?”

Perhaps it’s the alcohol lingering somewhere in your system, but his accent sends heat directly where it shouldn’t. You peer up at him, angling your head to get the full visual. “Little red riding hood,” you all but choked. The man smirks down at your frame. “I saw you in the bar.”

“Did you, little one?”

“I think I’d recall,” you hum, somewhat trapped beneath him. You’re engulfed by his cologne, as if he could possibly be anymore enchanting. His maroon eyes still strike bewilderment in you. If he was in costume, did he stop at the contacts? Your curiosity gets the best of you. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“My name is Demetri, and you are?” Demetri brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against it. Only then do you notice how cool his touch is. The man is clad in a black dress shirt, along with black dress pants. On a warm European night like this one, you doubt he's running cold. Unfortunately, your desire gets the best of you.

“What cold hands you have.” You tease. “Maybe I can help with that.”

Demetri wastes no time in swiftly bringing you into a nearby alleyway. Your back is pressed against the hard wall, as he kisses along the skin of your neck, stopping at the ridge of your collarbone. Demetri audibly inhales, the action bringing chills along your exposed skin. Your heartbeat thumps gently against his cool lips and the man lingers for a moment longer. "You're intoxicating." He whispers. A strong hand grabs along your clothed waist, and Demetri's lips finally find your own. You moan into his mouth, arching your back to press your body into his. Your fingertips toy with the material of his dress shirt, fumbling teasingly with his belt before they explore underneath. The man hisses as your manicured nails scratch mindfully along his hardened abdomen. The man is strangely cold to the touch, but as his hand travels below your waist, grasping at the exposed skin where he's pushed up your skirt, any concern is washed away mindlessly.

Whilst pulling at the dirty-blonde hair on his skull, you watch Demetri skillfully unveil your bare breasts. A moan trips over your stained lips, and chilled fingertips toy at your hardened buds. "I wanted you from the moment I saw you across the crowded room." He admits. "Now you're writhing beneath me. You want me to touch you, darling?" His hand cups your warm cheek. The temperature difference makes you lean into his touch. You nod, and the man clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Tell me, or I will not go further."

"Please." But, it isn't enough. The man holds your waist and part of you feels he's holding your entire weight off the ground. Your knees have grown weak, and yet he hasn't touched you where it's truly aching. "Please, Demetri. Touch me."

A man of his word, Demetri expertly swipes a finger inside your underwear. His fingertip borders your entrance, and you watch as he smirks at the readiness of your sex. "So ready for me, I should just fuck you now." His vulgarity prompts your impatience, wanting to just force his fingers inside of you now. "How attached are you to this particular pair?" You wished your mind was clear enough to remember exactly which pair he was speaking of.

"I mean, why do you ask?" You ask flirtatiously.

"Because I am going to rip them off of you." Desire is imbedded in Demetri's eyes, and yet he's still searching for permission in yours.

"Could always buy me another pair."

The man chuckles, tugging at the soaked, lacy fabric and with seemingly no effort, it is audibly torn off of your body and discarded. You gasp, and Demetri catches it with his own mouth. His gentle digits sink into your entrance, collecting the moisture as he pumps in and out intentionally. Heat floods and flushes across your cheeks, and you bury your face into his chest. The euphoria is unlike any other. You wonder where he had been when you truly needed him. Your sex swallows his fingers generously, pulsating around him like a blood pressure monitor. Demetri brings his thumb to simultaneously toy with your swollen clit, prompting a moan to echo in the empty street. "You take my fingers so well, my love. I can't wait to have you around me." Your companion doesn't stop until your face pinches, that familiar warmth explodes in your abdomen. Your knees buckle, and you feel a strong arm bring you in closer to prevent you from collapsing. As your toes uncurl within your heels, you stand carefully. Weak, standing similarly to a newborn doe, you waste no time in grabbing at Demetri's belt. He stands tall before you, and watches as you loosen it. Seemingly amused, the permanent smirk on his face is wiped into pleasure. Your warm hand frees his length, stroking leisurely. Demetri growls as you unwrap your grip from his throbbing erection. Your knees hit the ground in record pace, and you carefully bring his member to your plump lips. "Gods." The man groans, thrusting subconsciously inside the warmth of your mouth. The street is rough on your bare skin, rocking back and forth with every forward push in your throat. The act is loud inside the alleyway. The clash of suction and his own grunts are pleasantly displayed from your position on the ground. As he stands above you, the throb tenses against your clit. He sounds heavenly. Had you known he tasted this delectable, you would've approached him much sooner. Demetri clears his throat. "As much as I would love to spread my seed down your throat, I would much prefer for it to be inside of you." The man brings you to face him again, his jaw visibly strained with pleasure.

Bringing him down to meet your lips, the kiss you share is far too domestic for strangers. You can't say the experience was expected, but part of you wishes it would never end. The attraction you feel towards him is intoxicating, and as he lifts your leg and positions himself at your entrance, you pray he lasts for hours.

Demetri's length slides into you with little struggle, prompting an immediate pulsation from your vaginal walls. He groans into the crevice of your neck and shoulder, placing his teeth gently along the exposed skin. Part of you wishes he would bite down, but he never does. Instead, he swallows your moans with his lips, thrusting into you with such precision you feel him entirely. The size of him seems almost made for you, as he fills and stretches your entrance expertly. "You take me so well, darling. Who knew a little human would be made for me?"

Little human? You're so drunk off of his length, each stroke leaves you thoughtless. "God, I can't even-"

Demetri hushes you, using his strength to rock your hips into his. His attention finds your nipples once again. This time, he brings his mouth down to suckle carefully. The new sensation brings goosebumps scattered along your chest, and your nipples harden against his tongue instantly. "Such a good girl for me." Your body reacts so well to his touch, melting with every gesture he makes. You feel somewhat like a puppet, with Demetri pulling all of your strings. Yet, the interaction is so rewarding. With him inside of you, his length seems to hit an overwhelmingly sweet spot each time. Your weight is once again supported completely and entirely by the man you met less than an hour ago. The hardness of his biceps only ignites the flame more aggressively.

He shudders faintly, and you feel his length twitch inside of you. "I will have you walking home with my cum dripping down your thighs, little one." You moan at the thought, embracing Demetri's strong frame as he finishes inside of your sex. The secretion slightly frozen inside of you, you hiss at it's attempt to seep out. The contrasting temperature from the warmth of your pussy is intriguing. It leaves you somewhat displeased, yearning for another round. Having him inside of you was so fulfilling, feeling him pull out prompted an audible groan of disapproval. To this, Demetri chuckled. As if he could read your mind, he assured you. "Soon enough, darling. We should get you home."

The entire walk home was a blur. Your sobered mind thought of Maria. Demetri pressed his lips against yours at the university gate, promising to see you again soon, and disappearing as soon as your back turned to face him. You wondered what Maria would say if she caught you in such a position. A man-- undoubtably inhuman, fucking you senseless against a residential building. A man, whose skin was frozen to the touch, kissing you passionately before your residential gates. It's almost comical, until you think of the murdered girl. His cool touch, and eyes uncannily crimson, could this be the creature you heard violent murmurs of? Surely, it could not be the same man that handled you so gently. Had he wanted to feast upon your flesh and blood, he would've done so much earlier on, right? The thought of him sinking his teeth into your neck was no longer as appealing, and it somewhat brought nerves to your stomach. Had you encountered the very folklore you protested the existence of?

As you nestled further into your sheets, your mind wandered to Demetri. Had you slept with the enemy?

[fdelopera]

Jewish joy is receiving a message through Ancestry.com from a distant cousin who has managed to trace a branch of your family tree.

they have old photos from the 1800s and everything!

and before this, your knowledge of the family began and ended with the great-grandparents, in America. you could never trace them across the sea.

and here they are, in 1880s black and white, in diaspora in Lithuania, near the border with Poland. just a decade or so before they escaped to England, and then America, because the antisemitism there wasn't as dangerous as what was growing in Eastern Europe.

and their surname ties them to a Jewish diaspora town in Germany.

in the 1300s, the Holy Roman Empire murdered nearly all the Jews in that town because Christians made up conspiracy theories about the Jews spreading the bubonic plague.

but a few Jews survived. including your ancestors.

their surname also ties them to Jews living in Italy in the early Middle Ages. and through genealogy and studying Jewish forced migrations, you can trace them to Jews who were brought as captives to Italy from Jerusalem. and it turns out there is a whole genetic genealogy project on that branch of your family tree.

you see, your ancestors were among the Jews who *gave* that town in Germany its name. your ancestors named that town.

and ... and that town in Germany, it still exists. the town that your Jewish ancestors gave their surname to. in the 1940s, the Nazis murdered the Jews who remained there.

only one single Jew in that town survived the Holocaust.

after WWII, the Germans wanted to pave over the old synagogue and put in a parking lot. (you can't make this shit up!!)

but now, there is a tiny community of Jews who have moved there. there is a new Synagogue. a new mikvah. they have restored the Jewish cemetery there.

and yet for how long? how long before all the Jews in that German town are murdered again? how long before the Jewish cemetery is desecrated again? how long before the synagogue is burned down?

Jewish joy is always mixed with Jewish sadness.

when we find our people, we also find tragedy.

and yet. we have to keep looking for the joy.

because we are Jewish. because we love who we are. because being Jewish means learning to laugh through tears.

because being Jewish brings us joy.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Timezones in One Piece World

I am back with a physics post! Well, more meteorology/geography post!

I was inspired to create a timezone map after reading the newest chapter of Doflamingo's Marine by @moonbaby26 where a timezone difference was mentioned, which was a great detail! I remember thinking about timezones in OP world but never got around to it but I did now. So it made me wonder just what timezone is Dressrosa (my fav island 🤗) in, what timezone are the other islands in?

SO!

I pulled a grid of irl timezones, simplified it, and put it over the One Piece World Map! (You can see some parts where I was like, no keep it simple, simplify it).

HERE IT IS!

UTC is coordinated universal time, aka time in the center of the world. Anyway, here are the islands + locations and I'll put some ANs for some cus some are interesting.

Paradise:

Reverse Mountain [UTC -1]

Red Line Center [UTC -1]

Twin Cape [UTC 0] Greenwhich Mean Time,

📍Iceland

I find it PERFECT the exit from Reverse Mountain into Grand Line are the ones in the center of the One Piece World, not the Red Line Itself.

Cactus Island [UTC 0] Western European Time (WET)

📍irl ex: Reykyavik, Iceland

Little Garden [UTC +1] Central European Time (CET)

📍 Italy, Spain

Drum Island [UTC +2] Eastern European Summer Time (EEST)

Alabasta [UTC +3] irl ex:

📍

Jaya [UTC +4]

Skypiea [UTC +4]

Long Ring Rong Island [UTC +5]

Water 7 [UTC +6]

Amazon Lily [UTC +7]

Enies Lobby [UTC +6]

Florian Triangle [UTC +9] Japan Standard Time

Sabaody Archipelago [UTC +10]

Impel Down [UTC +8]

Marineford [UTC +9] Japan Standard Time (JST)

Holy Land of Mariejois [UTC +9] New Zealand Standard Time

Fishman Island [UTC +10]

New World

New Marineford [UTC -8] Baker Island Time (BIT)

Punk Hazard [UTC -8] Samoa Standard Time (SST)

Dressrosa [UTC -7] Pacific Daylight Time

📍 Los Angeles

It used to be in Hawaii, it fit so much, whyyyy 😭😭

Totto Land [UTC -5] Eastern Standard Time

📍irl ex: Florida, U.S.

Wano Country [UTC -4]

📍irl ex:

Uf, I think that's all the big locations. I recommend using just the UTC and then you go minus or plus just so you don't have to go converting everything. The One Piece world most likely just says "Universal Time + (number)" or sth.

So, for example, if it's 17:00 (5 pm) in Marineford (UTC +9) on a Monday, it will then be 1 am on Monday in Dressrosa.

17 - 9 (to get UTC 0) = 8 am Monday (UTC 0)

Then another -7 hours, you get Monday 1 am (UTC -7) in Dressrosa. So Dressrosa is 16 HOURS behind Original Marineford.

Interesting how Doflamingo settled in Dressrosa, which is the entire 22 hours behind Holy Land by time, symbolising how his family abandoned the privileges of Celestial Dragons. Nice.

Also, for the Blues, regarding seasons:

North Blue & East Blue = North Hemisphere such as Europe & U.S. (winter months - December, January, February)

West Blue & South Blue - South Hemisphere (like Australia & New Zealand) so the winter months are June, July, August.

The seasons are interchangable in the Grand Line depending on the islands!

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

[fangirlofallthefanthings]

heard you have headcanons on ody and dio meeting again after he returns. how does that go? how does penelope feel?

Ooooo!!! Boy, do I have ideas [insert shakey turtle of excitement here]

So, it's a little bit complicated, and I don't want to give too much away since it relates to what I'm currently working on, BUT!

I GOT YOU, FAM!

Basically: after Diomedes gets kicked out of Argos (it's very sad, the poor man), he realizes he has nowhere else to go except literally anywhere but the Eastern Mediterranean. So, he sets off for Hesperia (aka modern Italy) to start a new life there. But in this time of heartbreak, he's missing Odysseus even more (they had a sad goodbye on Crete; it's a long story), and he decides to stop at Ithaca on the way to get some supplies and maybe visit Ody. But when he gets there, he finds that Ody is MIA and Penelope is running things. So he hangs out for a while and gets to know Pen and Telemachus (who is about 11 or 12 by this point), and quickly figures out why Ody would talk about her literally any chance he got. She's beautiful, yes, but she's also just as cunning and wise as Odysseus is... The same qualities Dio fell in love with. And Pen is curious about Dio, too. She's heard many stories and news about her husband's schemes with Dio, and she starts falling for him a bit, too. But Diomedes doesn't want to dishonor the Bro Code by getting with Penelope. Ody loves Penelope! Dio could never hurt Ody like that. So... He leaves. He says goodbye to Pen and Telemachus and heads off to Hesperia. He and Penelope wonder what could have been since they believe they will never see each other again.

BUT THEN ODY RETURNS TO ITHACA!!! YIPPEE!!! Diomedes hears this news, but he has his new city to run, so he doesn't return immediately. After a few years, though, he gets usurped and kicked out again, so he's like, "Welp. I have nowhere else to go," and he goes back to Ithaca. He and Ody reunite and there's hugs all around and it's really sweet. Dio soon finds that OdyPen had another kid, a daughter (I haven't figured out a name for her yet, but she's two when Dio shows up). This part of the story is very loose, but I do know they all put two and two together about all their feelings eventually (Odysseus is very happy about this as you can imagine lmao!) It's little slice of life stuff from there. A little hc I have about the three of them is that Dio teaches OdyPen's daughter how to box because she's a little firecracker and needs to get rid of excess energy somehow, but she can't stay still long enough to weave (plus she's really little and doesn't have the fine motor skills for that yet). Dio and Ody also work together to hone Telemachus's and Diodotus's skills (who Diodotus is... you'll know soon enough lmao). I also hc that Pen frequently tricks OdyDio into wrestling each other so she can watch for her own entertainment. She's just sitting to the side, eating her bowl of table grapes, enjoying the show okasdfhsdugif- I also hc that... Once OdyPen passes on, Diomedes leaves again. The kids don't want him to go, but he can't stay. He wants to honor Ody's wish for Tele to be king. If he stays, people will think he wants to take over. He doesn't want a war among Ody's people so... he leaves. He establishes one last city in Hesperia and feels his life coming to a close. He climbs a nearby cliff by the sea to enjoy the view, looking east. Then Athena shows up, and he accepts immortality. Sorry... Got sort of sad toward the end there, but that's a few things! I have a lot of thoughts, but I'm very scattered rn. If you have more specific questions, feel free to ask! I don't bite, I promise! :D

[leroibobo]

some notes on specifically "middle eastern" (mashriqi + iran, caucuses, and turkey) jewish communities/history:

something to keep in mind: judaism isn't "universalist" like christianity or islam - it's easier to marry into it than to convert on your own. conversions historically happened, but not in the same way they did for european and caucasian christians/non-arab muslims.

that being said, a majority of middle eastern jews descend from jewish population who remained in palestine or immigrated/were forced (as is the case with "kurdish" jews) from palestine to other areas and mixed with locals/others who came later (which at some point stopped). pretty much everywhere in the middle east and north africa (me/na) has/had a jewish population like this.

with european jews (as in all of them), the "mixing" was almost entirely during roman times with romans/greeks, and much less later if they left modern-day greece/italy.

(none of this means jewish people are or aren't "indigenous" to palestine, because that's not what that word means.)

like with every other jewish diaspora, middle eastern jewish cultures were heavily influenced by wherever they ended up. on a surface level you can see this in things like food and music.

after the expulsion of jews from spain and portugal, sephardim moved to several places around the world; many across me/na, mostly to the latter. most of the ones who ended up in the former went to present-day egypt, palestine, lebanon, syria, and turkey. a minority ended up in iraq (such as the sassoons' ancestors). like with all formerly-ottoman territories, there was some degree of back and forth between countries and continents.

some sephardim intermarried with local communities, some didn't. some still spoke ladino, some didn't. there was sometimes a wealth gap between musta'arabim and sephardim, and/or they mostly didn't even live in the same places, like in palestine and tunisia. it really depends on the area you're looking at.

regardless, almost all the jewish populations in the area went through "sephardic blending" - a blending of local and sephardic customs - to varying degrees. it's sort of like the cultural blending that came with spanish/portugese colonization in central and south america (except without the colonization).

how they were treated also really depends where/when you're looking. some were consistently dealt a raw hand (like "kurdish" and yemenite jews) while some managed to do fairly well, all things considered (like baghdadi and georgian jews). most where somewhere in between. the big difference between me/na + some balkan and non-byzantine european treatment of jews is due to geography - attitudes in law regarding jews in those areas tended to fall into different patterns.

long story short: most european governments didn't consider anyone who wasn't "christian" a citizen (sometimes even if they'd converted, like roma; it was a cultural/ethnic thing as well), and persecuted them accordingly; justifying this using "race science" when religion became less important there after the enlightenment.

most me/na and the byzantine governments considered jews (and later, christians) citizens, but allowed them certain legal/social opportunities while limiting/banning/imposing others. the extent of both depend on where/when you're looking but it was never universally "equal".

in specifically turkey, egypt, palestine, and the caucuses, there were also ashkenazi communities, who came mainly because living as a jew in non-ottoman europe at the time sucked more than in those places. ottoman territories in the balkans were also a common destination for this sort of migration.

in the case of palestine, there were often religious motivations to go as well, as there were for some other jews who immigrated. several hasidic dynasites more or less came in their entirety, such as the lithuanian/polish/hungarian ones which precede today's neutrei karta.

ashkenazi migration didn't really happen until jewish emancipation in europe for obvious reasons. it also predates zionism - an initially secular movement based on contemporaneous european nationalist ideologies - by some centuries.

most ashkenazi jews today reside in the us, while most sephardic or "mizrahi" jews are in occupied palestine. there, the latter outnumber the former. you're more likely to find certain groups (like "kurds" and yemenites) in occupied palestine than others (like persians and algerians) - usually ones without a western power that backed them from reactionary antisemitic persecution and/or who came from poorer communities. (and no, this doesn't "justify" the occupation).

(not to say there were none who immigrated willingly/"wanted" to go, or that none/all are zionist/anti-zionist. (ben-gvir is of "kuridsh" descent, for example.) i'm not here to parse motivations.)

this, along with a history of racism/chauvinism from the largely-ashkenazi "left", are why many mizrahim vote farther "right".

(in some places, significant numbers of the jewish community stayed, like turkey, tunisia, and iran. in some others, there's evidence of double/single-digit and sometimes crypto-jewish communities.)

worldwide, the former outnumber the latter. this is thought to be because of either a medieval ashkenazi population boom due to decreased population density (not talking about the "khazar theory", which has been proven to be bullshit, btw) or a later, general european one in the 18th/19th centuries due to increased quality of life.

the term "mizrahi" ("oriental", though it doesn't have the same connotation as in english) in its current form comes from the zionist movement in the 1940s/50s to describe me/na jewish settlers/refugees.

(i personally don't find it useful outside of israeli jewish socio-politics and use it on my blog only because it's a term everyone's familiar with.)

about specifically palestinian jews:

the israeli term for palestinian jews is "old yishuv". yishuv means settlement. this is in contrast to the "new yishuv", or settlers from the initial zionist settlement period in 1881-1948. these terms are usually used in the sense of describing historical groups of people (similar to how you would describe "south yemenis" or "czechoslovaks").

palestinian jews were absorbed into the israeli jewish population and have "settler privilege" on account of their being jewish. descendants make up something like 8% of the israeli jewish population and a handful (including, bafflingly, netanyahu and smoltrich) are in the current government.

they usually got to keep their property unless it was in an "arab area". there's none living in gaza/the west bank right now unless they're settlers.

their individual views on zionism vary as much as any general population's views vary on anything.

(my "palestinian jews" series isn't intended to posit that they all think the same way i do, but to show a side of history not many people know about. any "bias" only comes from the fact that i have a "bias" too. this is a tumblr blog, not an encyclopedia.)

during the initial zionist settlement period, there were palestinian/"old yishuv" jews who were both for zionism and against it. the former have been a part of the occupation and its government for pretty much its entire history.

some immigrated abroad before 1948 and may refer to themselves as "syrian jews". ("syria" was the name given to syria/lebanon/palestine/some parts of iraq during ottoman times. many lebanese and palestinian christians emigrated at around the same time and may refer to themselves as "syrian" for this reason too.)

ones who stayed or immigrated after for whatever reason mostly refer to themselves as "israeli".

in israeli jewish society, "palestinian" usually implies muslims and christians who are considered "arab" under israeli law. you may get differing degrees of revulsion/understanding of what exactly "palestine"/"palestinians" means but the apartheid means that palestinian =/= jewish.

because of this, usage of "palestinian" as a self-descriptor varies. your likelihood of finding someone descendent from/with ancestry from the "old yishuv" calling themselves a "palestinian jew" in the same way an israeli jew with ancestry in morocco would call themselves a "moroccan jew" is low.

(i use it on here because i'm assuming everyone knows what i mean.)

samaritans aren't 'jewish', they're their own thing, though they count as jewish under israeli law.

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Black Obsidian

Black Obsidian (The Regal Warrior of Stones)

Color: Black, Dark Brown

Hardness: 5-5.5 (softer than quartz)

Rarity: Easy to Acquire

Type: Igneous Rock (Comes from a Volcano)

Chakra Association: Root

Angel: Uriel

Deities: Pele, Tezcatlipoca, Itzpapalotl and Sekhmet

Element: Fire, Earth

Astrological Signs: Sagittarius, Scorpio, Aries

Planet: Saturn, Pluto

Origin: Anywhere with Volcanic Activity

Powers: Protection, Grounding, Clarity, Releasing Blockage, Drawing out Stress, Creativity, Divination and Scrying, Negativity Banishment, Transformation and Absorption

Crystals It Works Well With: Howlite, Malachite

How is it Created: Obsidian is a black volcanic glass, formed when molten lava hits cold water or air and solidifies. It is composed of silicon dioxide (quartz) and many impurities which allows it to take different shapes and colors. Black obsidian gets it coloring from iron and magnesium.

History: The earliest obsidian tools can be dated back to the Oldowan, at the dawn of the Paleolithic/Stone Age (2.6 million- 10,000 BCE). Different origins of this rock can be found in Britain, Italy, Mexico, and the USA. In Egypt, obsidian knives were used in ceremonial circumcisions, as well as making mirrors (scrying mirrors for most) and other decorations in tombs. The word “Obsidian” was first used by a Roman explorer, Obsius, who “discovered” it in Ethiopia. In the Americas, Obsidian was used as a symbol of Tezcatlipoca, the chief god of the Aztec religion. Tezcatlipoca means “smoking mirror” which is why a lot of the Mayan priest used the glass rock for scrying mirrors like the Egyptians did. On the Eastern Islands, obsidian was used to make the eyes of the Moai statues before they were lost. The indigenous tribes of North America used pieces of obsidian to make arrowheads, spears and even knives by using an antler in order to carefully form different shapes.

What It Can Do:

Grounds the soul and spiritual forces into the physical plane, making it possible to manifest more spiritual energy

Increases one’s self control

Forces you to face your true self

Brings imbalance and shadow qualities to the surface to release them

Repels negativity and disperses self-hating thoughts

Powerful meditation aid

Great for scrying and divination as the glass allows you to look to see the “clear truth”

Can heal you after a spiritual or mental attack

Was used in the past during ritual for healing physical disorders

How to Charge:

Sit with the stone in the palm of your hand and enter a light meditation. Use your thoughts to charge the stones with desires of protection and make sure the thoughts are clear and concise.

Use high vibration to amplify the crystal

Use a singing bowl to send sound energy into it

Place it in a bed of Himalayan salt and let it sit for 48 hours

If you work with a sun or moon deity, I have noticed charging it in the sun or moonlight with the idea of protection helps to charge it as well

How to Cleanse:

Run under water (not hot just lukewarm) for a minute

Create a saltwater solution and submerge it for up to 24 hours

Burn herbs or incense over the obsidian with the intention of cleansing (I personally use sandalwood incense for this)

Leave your stone under the full moon to cleanse and retrieve in the morning

Bury your obsidian in your garden for 48 hours

How to Get the Best Out of It:

Wear a black obsidian bracelet. The wrist area is a highly energetic zone because it has nearly direct access to the bloodstream. This (in my opinion) is the best place to have obsidian to create a powerful shield and help with manifestation.

For lighter dosage, use an obsidian ring.

Crystal Grid:

Letting Go (Triangle Grid)

Mantra: “I release everything that no longer serves me”

Center Stone: Smokey Quartz Tower

Secondary Stones: Obsidian, Malachite, Rhodonite, Citrine

Best Moon Phase: Waning or Dark Moon

Best Day: Saturday

Sources

[spacelazarwolf]

lmao k we’re gonna talk abt ashkenormativity and the weird hostility some of y’all have toward non ashki jews.

so yesterday i was trying to have a discussion on this post, and the person responded with this:

and then promptly blocked me.

after which they posted a bunch of bullshit that i am now going to tear to shreds.

regarding the above screenshot:

- if you’re defining yiddish culture as “ashkenazi jews who speak yiddish” you are still erasing multiple communities of ashkenazi jews. italian ashkenazi jews migrated or fled to northern italy during the middle ages, long before the establishment of the pale of settlement, and have a culture that is distinctly influenced by italian culture, not eastern european culture.

- sounds like you’re outright excluding any group of ashkenazi jews who don’t speak yiddish or live in central or eastern europe. which is literally the reason i started the dialogue in the first place.

- talking down to me as if i don’t know what the difference between ashkenazi and sephardi is.

- immediately followed by incorrectly defining ashkenazi. ashkenazim are a group of diaspora jews who originally settled in the ashkenaz. there are many different diaspora languages that ashkenazi jews spoke, including judeo-french, judeo-provençal, judeo-czech, and different dialects of judeo-italian.

- kinda sounds like ur saying eastern european jews who speak yiddish are the only “true” ashkenazi jews????????

- yeah there’s lots of issues surrounding the way eastern european jews were viewed, but that’s not what the conversation was about?????

- it’s not really up to you to have or not have an issue with who identifies as ashkenazi.

- there are many ashkenazi groups that have ties in eastern europe. there are also plenty who don’t. there’s overarching similarities between a lot of different diaspora groups, but that doesn’t make them the same. and that’s ok.

- kinda weird how you say “this is a conversation for the jewish community, infuriating how people disagree with us about our own culture” as if i’m not also jewish?? do you not consider me jewish enough to talk about jewish culture or history?

- it’s clear you’ve researched a lot about eastern european jews. it’s also clear that’s the only group you know anything about.

- this conversation had nothing to do with zionism?????? very fucking weird for u to say this??????? especially when i was literally trying to express that ashkenazi jews are incredibly diverse and can’t just be boiled down to “basically eastern european”??????????

- also again homogenizing all ashkenazi jews under “yiddish culture” when you’ve defined yiddish culture as being distinctly eastern european. which. again. not all ashkenazi jews are.

- didn’t try to correct u on ur own culture bud! tried to get u to see that ur own culture is not actually The Only One.

- “because only a non ashkenazi jew can ever accurately represent ashkenazi culture right?” you’ve got some weird aggression toward non ashki jews you should prob unpack.

- again trying to make this abt zionism when i was literally arguing the opposite.

- also i don’t have a “giant blog” lmfao.

- this is funny to me bc u r literally the one who misdefined ashkenazi?????? and attempted to homogenize all ashkenazim under the label of eastern european????? hello?????????

- “irredeemable zionists” yikes bro.

- literally just me when i can’t read and have no critical thinking skills.

- this to me reads like someone who is trying to invert the concept of ashkenormativity and position themself as a victim of non ashki jews. which is absolutely fucking bizarre.

- you’re claiming i’m “denying yiddish culture” while many of your posts actively erase multiple ashkenazi groups from this culture while simultaneously lumping them all in underneath one umbrella eastern european label. like idk how you managed to be so ashkenormative that you managed to erase other ashkenazi jews but it’s almost impressive.

- gee i wonder what it’s like to have ur culture denied surely as a member of a tiny diaspora group that makes up 0.4% of the global jewish population i have no idea what that’s like!

- you are not advocating for diasporism. you are advocating for your culture and your culture only.

anyway, on to my other rant.

if i want to know how to recite a prayer in the ashkenazi rite, i google it. if i want to learn how to speak yiddish, i download duolingo. it’s easy to find these things because people have worked hard to preserve them. and also because ashkenazi jews make up over 60% of the global jewish population and over 70% of the us jewish population.

italian jews, however, including italian ashkenazim, make up 0.4% of the global jewish population. and i couldn’t even find a number for how many of us there are in the us bc there are that few. if i want to know how a certain prayer is chanted in the italian rite, i have to find 70 year old recordings of italian cantors and rabbis singing them for a musicologist who dedicated his life to keeping the italian rite and italki culture alive after it was devastated by the holocaust, bc the only synagogues that still follow the italian rite are in rome and israel. if i want to know how to speak the language my ancestors would have spoken, i have to take a zoom class at oxford at 6am where we study manuscripts from hundreds of years ago. in 1900, there were 20,000 native speakers of judeo-italian dialects. in 2023 there are almost none.

in order to participate in any sort of jewish life where i live, i have to know ashkenazi culture. i have to know the prayers and the songs and the customs. i have to know the food and the language and history.

but y’all don’t have to know mine.

and every time i try to infuse my own heritage into my practice i’m reminded of that. when i make italian jewish food, people don’t see it as “jewish food.” people hear my last name and assume i’m not jewish because it’s not a “jewish name.” when i use italki hebrew, people try to correct me. i frequently encounter other jews who don’t even know italkim exist. so yeah. it is infuriating when i experience constant pressure to assimilate into the dominant jewish culture of where i live only to be a excluded from discussions about that culture because i’m not part of it. i am part of it. i have to be.

ashkenazi culture is beautiful and diverse and i do genuinely enjoy taking part in it. but it is painful to get constant reminders that i don’t really have a choice. it is painful to have people in your own community see your knowledge of their culture as a given but their knowledge of your culture as optional or doing you a favor.

so basically,

you are not being erased by the reminder that jews who are not like you exist.

[bedlamsbard]

Ok I am genuinely and independently curious about your opinions on the fall of Rome, but I do understand it not being the time, so answer this how you best see fit to not cause fuckshit

see, the thing is that I am immune to discourse about the fall of Rome because 99% of online comparisons to ~the fall of the Roman Empire just have a very culturally osmosed idea of Edward Gibbon's decline and fall and no idea what actually happened in the late 5th/early 6th centuries, and the thing I do professionally is The End of the Western Roman Empire. that is not an exaggeration. that's what my doctoral dissertation is on. (actually, technically it's about failures of Roman identity in specific regions of the (former) Western Roman Empire, but basically the End of the Western Roman Empire.) I have spent the bulk of the past ten years thinking extensively about the End of the Western Roman Empire. It is a safe bet that I know every major argument of scholarly discourse on the End of the Western Roman Empire. I have also read the original sources in the original languages. this is just to say that like. I have a lot of opinions about the end of the Western Roman Empire, and they digress pretty significantly even from common scholarly view, let alone popular opinion. (but I can back them up! I'm not sourcing stuff here, but I can.)

the traditional end date for the end of the Western Roman Empire is 476 CE, the year the emperor Romulus Augustulus was removed from the throne by a so-called barbarian usurper named Odoacer. after that, there were no other Western Roman Emperors and Italy was ruled by barbarian kings until the foundation of the Exarchate as a result of the Eastern Roman Emperor Justinian's invasion. Odoacer was, by the way, a Roman military officer and a citizen. Romulus Augustulus was fourteen years old and had been on the throne the year previously but his father and uncle, both of whom Odoacer killed. oh, by the way, the preceding emperor? yeah, Romulus Augustulus's dad didn't actually kill him. his name was Julius Nepos, and he did get chased out of Italy. he went to his native Dalmatia (modern Croatia) and wrote angry but pleading letters to his relative by marriage, the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Emperor Zeno, who was a little busy at the time because he had just been chased out of Constantinople by a usurper named Basiliscus. By the time Zeno succeeded in retaking Constantinople and knocking Basiliscus off, Odoacer was safely seated in Ravenna (the city of Rome had ceased to be the imperial capital some time earlier) and had 14-year-old Romulus Augustulus and the Roman Senate (still in the city of Rome) writing letters to Zeno on his behalf. Romulus and the Senate both said, essentially, hey, why don't YOU (Zeno) be the first emperor to control both halves of the empire for the first time in centuries and Odoacer can just be king in Italy, basically a governor, but it's YOUR empire.

(by the way, Romulus Augustulus was fine. he was quietly retired to a villa in Campania with his mother, we actually have letters to him from years later.)

the Italian legation seems to have arrived in Constantinople at the same time as the Julius Nepos's Dalmatian legation, which said, "hey, cousin, congrats on getting the throne back, funny story! I have the same problem. could you maybe help me out here?"

the problem is that Zeno, having just finished fighting a major civil war that almost succeeded, did not have any resources to help Nepos, and also everyone in the Eastern Roman Empire hated him (Zeno) a lot. so much. what he ends up doing is writing a strongly-worded letter to Odoacer thanking him for the offer but reminding him that he HAS a Western Roman Emperor already! right now! don't forget!

so true, bestie, Odoacer says to Zeno, and then proceeds to ignore Nepos for the next four years -- except. he continues to put Nepos on his coins. he continues to put Zeno on his coins. as far as the Roman senate and the population of Italy is concerned, they are still part of the Roman res publica. they are very clear on this fact. so are our Eastern Roman writers, interestingly, though the situation with the West is kind of tense, but Zeno is busy with like. six other civil wars. (because everyone hates him). so he can't actually do anything about the Odoacer and Nepos situation. Nepos dies in 480 (assassinated by his own nobles) and even though Odoacer springs up all "I WILL AVENGE YOUR DEATH, MY BELOVED EMPEROR" and conquers Dalmatia, this actually just makes the situation with the East worse because now there's not even the illusion of a Western Roman Emperor, but Zeno is busy having his five hundredth civil war so he can't do anything about it. (it's actually not his fault, there were numerous factors going on in the East, only some of which were that everyone hated Zeno for being essentially an outsider. his mother-in-law and his wife also hated him.)

eventually, however, Zeno manages to kill all of his problem noblemen and attempted usurpers except one guy and goes, huh, you know what. I would like you to get out of the Eastern Roman Empire but you're actually very competent so I can't beat you militarily. also would you please stop marching on Constantinople, that would be great.

that one guy is Theoderic the Great, King of the Ostrogoths. he was also a Roman citizen (Flavius Theodericus), a patrician, Zeno's son-in-arms (we're not actually sure what this entails), and a former consul, THE most prestigious office in both sides of the empire, with a host of Roman civil and military honors. he'd been raised in the court at Constantinople as a political hostage, which meant he knew the imperial system inside and out, and upon being released immediately went back to the Ostrogoths, raised an army, and started conquering things, both for and against the Eastern Romans. he had been on Zeno's side, he had been fighting Zeno, he had been on Zeno's side again, he had been fighting Zeno again, he was NOT responsible for the death of the other Gothic Theoderic, Theoderic Strabo (who once called him out for being too Roman), who died accidentally, but he was probably responsible for the death of Strabo's heir, which resulted in all of Strabo's Goths joining Theoderic's Goths. he marched on the walls of Constantinople. peak frienemy.

it's unclear if sending Theoderic and the Ostrogoths to Italy was Zeno's idea or Theoderic's, since sources differ, but one way or another Theoderic gathered up all of the Ostrogoths (men, women, and children) and set out on an overland trek to Italy, picking up various other barbarian peoples along the way, and arrived in Italy in 489, where he immediately set about making Odoacer's life a nightmare by conquering everything in Italy except Ravenna, where Odoacer holes up with his family. in 493 the bishop of Ravenna negotiates a truce between Theoderic and Odoacer, the two of them agreeing to rule Italy between them, and then Theoderic personally kills Odoacer and also has the rest of his family killed, leaving him as king of Italy -- rex Italiae.

or...what? we do know for sure that Theoderic used the title rex Italiae. he also used the titles princeps, imperator, and dominus. we even have one stone inscription, set up by a Roman senator (who ought to know) calling him augustus (emperor). what we don't know -- and scholarly ideas differ here -- is what Theoderic's actual legal relationship vis a vis the Eastern Roman Empire was because to all intents and purposes, for the next thirty years, Theoderic acted like, was treated like, and performed as the Western Roman Emperor, without ever explicitly claiming that title. but everything about his reign was centered around performing Romanness perfectly and about restoring territory to the WRE that had been lost decades earlier. which he did. he brought portions of Gaul and Spain and the Balkans under Italian rule again. he bragged about seating Gallic senators in the Roman senate for the first time in decades. every letter to he sent to the East was "okay, you're emperor, but I'm as good as you and don't you forget it, we're still the other republic (utraeque res publicae)." he went on what was essentially a triumph in Rome itself. he did the whole bread and circuses shindig. (literally, he reinstituted the annona, the grain dole, and held gladiatorial games even though he personally didn't like them.) most of the popes liked him and were happy to work with him (because they hated the patriarch in Constantinople and the various Eastern Roman Emperors). (I say most of because he definitely interfered with a couple of papal elections and may have had one pope killed.)

now, he wasn't a perfect Roman, because he was still a barbarian (non-Roman) king. there were legal distinctions between Romans and Ostrogoths in Italy. Theoderic made marriage alliances with most of his surrounding barbarian neighbors (who also all ruled former Roman territory); he wasn't a Nicene (Catholic) Christian, he was an Arian (Homoian) Christian. but he acted as a Roman emperor and seems to have been perceived as one by the bulk of the inhabitants of Italy. (yes, of course he had political enemies, yes I know about Boethius and Symmachus). also sometimes he did fight the Eastern Roman Empire but considering how many civil wars Rome had had that's basically one of the most Roman things he could do.

he dies in 525, without an adult male heir, and his grandson Athalaric becomes king under the regency of his mother, Theoderic's daughter Amalasuintha, who was essentially too Roman for most of the Ostrogothic nobility but made the Roman senate really happy. she was apparently pretty close to being a political genius, she was just unfortunately a woman. an unmarried woman. (Athalaric's father had died at some indeterminate point before Theoderic's death, we don't know when.) when Athalaric died before gaining his majority, Amalasuintha briefly reigned as sole ruler, then realized that that wasn't going to work with the Ostrogoths, and named her cousin Theodahad her co-ruler. (she did not marry him, anyone who tells you she married him is wrong. Theodahad was already married.) this backfired very badly. Theodahad had her arrested, imprisoned, and murdered.

this was a huge mistake, because Theodahad was actually incredibly incompetent, and the Eastern Roman Empire was out the lookout for blood since the Emperor Justinian was on his high horse about ~reconquering the Roman West.

and this is when the "the Roman Empire fell in 476" narrative enters the picture. it comes from an Eastern Roman Latin writer names Marcellinus comes, writing during Justinian's reign, and he is the very first person who points to that date, to the usurpation of Romulus Augustulus (who was never acknowledged by Zeno), and to Odoacer as a big, BIG change in the Roman world. previously there is no evidence that anyone in either West or East looked at 476 and thought "something fundamental has changed here." (I mean, maybe they did, but they didn't write it down or if they did it didn't survive.) in fact, Odoacer's and Theoderic's reigns were the most stable period Italy had had in decades; they'd gone through five emperors in ten years. Procopius, writing the Wars, also identifies Romulus Augustulus as the last emperor and Odoacer and Theoderic as illegitimate rulers, but the man is very much writing propaganda. (just because the Secret History hates women and also Justinian does not mean the Wars is not propaganda.) the East has a vested reason for identifying 476 and Romulus as a sea change: they want a legitimate reason to invade the West, and "avenging Amalasuintha" and "reclaiming Rome from the barbarians" are good excuses.

(Procopius really struggles with how to identify Theoderic, because he has to identify Theoderic as a usurper and a tyrant (in the technical ancient sense, not the modern one) for his propaganda to work, but even to him Theoderic is a good ruler, who could have been an emperor but never claimed the title, who held all these Roman honors, etc. there's even a big debate about Theoderic's legal status vis a vis the Eastern Roman Empire in the Wars, so it's clear that it was unclear.)

Theodahad fucks everything up, is murdered by the Goths, and the Goths name a man called Witigis as king. to legitimize this, Witigis (apparently forcibly) marries Amalasuintha's daughter (Theoderic's granddaughter) Matasuintha. too late, the Eastern Roman Empire has already invaded and they aren't stopping for shit. in 535, Ravenna falls, and the remains of the Ostrogothic court (which include a lot of Italo-Roman civil officials) are transported to Constantinople.

THAT'S the end of the Western Roman Empire, the fall of the Ostrogothic Amal dynasty.

the Gothic Wars continue for another twenty years, the Eastern Romans fuck up Italy almost irreparably (there are arguments that the repercussions were still echoing in the 20th century), and then the Lombards invade and make everything worse, but at that point there's no more Western Roman Empire, even if the Roman Senate's still around (and they are until what seems to be the early 7th century).

so basically, I feel very strongly that if anyone says they know anything about the fall of Rome, they almost certainly do not. it's not actually an equivalent situation to the modern U.S. or tbh anyone else. the 476 year is nice, it's convenient, you get the romance of Romulus Augustulus's name ("little augustus," named after the legendary founder of Rome Romulus), but it was not for more than fifty years that anyone actually decided that year was important. the situation was way, way more complicated.

[patemi-pk]

I don't want to bother too much the userbase, but, I have something to ask my fellow northern, central and eastern europeans (basically everyone from a country were Disney is published by an Egmont subsidiary... plus Greece).

What's the deal with Mickey Mystery (Mickey Mysterier/Ein Fall für Micky/Dekkari-Mikki/Mikke krim/Musses mysterier/Μίκυ Μυστήριο)? What was this projects about? A handful of stories were published here in Italy too, on Topomistery, but the title mostly published italian (or Gottfredson) reprints. I can see that a lot of stories were produced, outlasting every eponimous title. Were the stories good?

[kas-e]

The greatest canvas is the one just outside. The world is mad, frustrated, fighting, at war, but I essentially bowed out of the mainstream years ago. Since then I've been living in a little city in a strange region tucked in the valley beside a beautiful mountain range. It's been years now, and my life in America has all but faded from the rearview, all that remains is this tiny dot on the horizon that if I squint hard enough I might be able to make out what it is - but honestly, I don't care enough to strain my eyes.

The so-called friends and family gave up communications around a year ago. It's always been a flimsy connection anyway, so at least I saw that coming. At least my mother still responds sometimes. I'm not looking for pity, it's just the way it is. Reality.

When I was 19 years old I was involved in a horrible tragedy, at which time every person in my life turned their backs on me. Every last one. For a year I heard from nobody, I was hung up on, ignored, and just flat out told to fuck off. I was trying to get myself clean, and there were some months where I was institutionalized. The white walls still haunt me sometimes... but I remember trying to wrap my head around what was going on. The memory is vivid and piercing. Like it was yesterday, despite the fact that it was 25 years ago. It was the greatest lesson of my life.

It was when I realized that I was indeed alone in this life. Every man, and I would imagine plenty of women, come to this conclusion at some point in their life. Some of us are lucky enough to have family, friends, even love. But ultimately, we are alone. When tragedy strikes, this is revealed. The fair-weather friends disappear, and sometimes the family does too. But this doesn't make me sad anymore. It's just a black and white fact of life. Instead it gives me a sense of peace, because with the acceptance of this, I've grown and nurtured a love for myself that is now substantial enough to weather many heavy storms. Furthermore, now, when I do have love, or simply people in my life, I am very grateful for their presence, and it's easier to love and appreciate them back. Now, it's effortlessly reciprocal, whereas before sometimes it was one-sided.

My point of writing all of this is just to remind you, again, that the greatest canvas is just outside. The visions that nature gives us, for free, every day, are mere steps away. This is why I'm a photographer. This is why I shoot incessantly, and have for the past two decades. I'm trying to grab those fleeting moments of beauty and glory, one by one, and present them to whoever wants to see them.

I hope that you enjoy my work as much as I love creating it. Someone once told me that the sun sets and rises every single day, it's our choice if we want to be there for it. Ever since hearing that, I make it a point to be there every chance I have.

Next trip is southern Italy in a few weeks. Can't wait to get out there, and get some good sessions in before the cold grey winter of Eastern Europe sets in for the season.

Peace & Prosperity.

[gemsofgreece]

https://x.com/archeohistories/status/1803838446672449797

Αρχίσανε επιτέλους να μιλάνε για αυτά; Καιρός ήτανε.

- REPLY / COMMENTARY TO THE SUBMISSION -

Adding commentary in English because the tweet in the link is also in English. So, I searched a bit about the author, it turns out the study is not even as new as the tweeter account states (yeah I will probably never start calling it x, old habits die hard, let alone that it was a horrible name change to begin with, anyway!). The link refers to a book actually written in 2004 by historian Robert C. Davis,  “Christian Slaves, Muslim Masters: White Slavery in the Mediterranean, the Barbary Coast, and Italy, 1500–1800″. The book is legit and was well received  amongst readers and peer review alike. I had to search all that up in order to be sure what I am posting here, obviously.

Of course, when you’re from any place in the North Mediterranean and have the most basic knowledge of history, you don’t need this book to tell you first that there were massive practices of slavery commited by Asian and African muslims against Southern and Eastern Europeans, ever since the Late Middle Ages, especially and usually through piracy, but not only. It’s a well known fact. I was dumbfounded when I read in the tweet that the previous estimations in the American academic circles were on the tens of thousands. This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. By studying the Modern Greek history alone, literally just early 19th century Greek history - a span of 30 years tops - there were hundreds of thousands of Greeks sold as slaves by the Ottomans. Now calculate this happening in all the north Mediterranean coast - spanning from Greece to Spain - for over 4 centuries. Obviously the reasons or the perpetrators weren’t always the same - it could be Ottomans, Arabs, Barbery pirates, mixed, it could be a market, it could be a war tactic, it could be retaliation, it could be a lot of things. Byzantine and Ottoman Greece was regularly mauled by pirates. In fact, there were also Ottoman Greek pirates, i.e in Mani. My point anyway is that estimating that number to the tens of thousands is ridiculous when that was even too little for a span of 30 years in Greece alone. Then again, I see that this book didn’t examine at all slavery in Greece and the Ottoman Empire. It is more about southwestern Europe. But still the old American estimations seemed - uhm - “diplomatically discreet”. The new book raises the number close to a million in the southwest alone.

I did well to look it up because I read that this book got almost exploited by far right groups who tried to create the rhetoric of an “eye for an eye”, suggesting the West Europeans and Americans were responding with slavery to the Barbery and Ottoman and other muslim slave traders (no, West Europeans and Americans would not go to such lengths for the sake of South Europeans, let’s put it like that, so the whole “white vengeance” argument is beyond stupid, let alone that it remains problematic). I must thus add that: the writer rejected such arguments openly, saying  "Two such enormous wrongs don’t make anything right.“

This is what I hate the most. People end up behaving the exact same way. Abusing history and the objectivity with which it must always be studied in order to serve their political rhetorics and ideologies. We will never learn from past mistakes, it seems as if we are incapable of doing it. You will NEVER see the topics of European / White / Christian people getting sold in multiple hundreds of thousands as slaves by non-Christian - POC (as Americans like to call them) being big in America. Or at least ackowledged and examined beyond academic circles. But this is exactly also what the far right groups attempted; to minimize the horrific, well studied Atlantic slave trade or “excuse” it! The level of bias and all these groups accusing each other of the very things they themselves commit…!

At some point, in one of my posts about Ottoman Greek history where I added some of the living conditions for a Christian far from the cosmopolitan areas of the Ottoman Empire (AKA lowkey almost any place besides Constantinople) - historically fact checked - at some point I got an impressively vile reply from a self-identifying “activist” who cursed at me and long story short they said I was a despicable liar. Of course, by “activist” we mean a muslim person who said their family history was affected by the western colonization, which I respect, but they could not equally respect that people of the same faith as them (not even the same nation!) could be capable of vile acts as well and their activism was limited only to people who had the exact same experience as they did. Everyone else was a despicable liar.  Anyway, needless to say, I wasn’t lying.

And before someone says “oH YoU taLK abOUt BIas buT ALExandER-”. Of course. We have said this a thousand times over. Ancient Greece practiced slavery, not even just to foreigners or POC but also Greeks enslaving other Greeks, like, top THAT. But so did the Sumerians, the Hebrews, the Hittites, the Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Romans and the Persians at least after the Achaemenid dynasty. You know?

But this is exactly the point and this is ultimately the reason I am personally publishing and commenting to this submission; to make a point that who is an oppressor, a slave trader, a wrongdoer of any sort has NOTHING to do with skin, religion, geography and I can’t believe there are people living in 2024 in advanced societies truly believing this. It is not some genetical trait of white people to be slave traders. The only thing it takes is power imbalance and a little touch of convenient propaganda for any human to commit and normalize the most horrendous deed. If they are morally weak, of course, which is also not a genetical trait and unfortunately it is not rare at all, anywhere in the world.

[spnfanficpond]

Weekly Pond Newsletter

While a good portion of the SPN fandom heads to Austin next weekend for the Creation convention in the boys' hometown, we here at the Pond will be holding down the fort on the fanfic front. Just like every other day. We're not jealous at all. (But seriously, if you're going, have fun!)

Old Business:

Angel Fish Awards - The post for July is up! Click here for a list of awesome fics!

SPN Rewatch: FanFic Edition - We had a great chat yesterday about 2.19 Folsom Prison Blues and 2.20 What Is and What Should Never Be. All of the ideas discussed have been entered into the episode docs in The Archive. Check it out if you're looking for inspiration! Have some ideas you'd like to add? Go right ahead! The docs are in suggestion mode so nothing gets accidentally deleted, but all additions will be approved.

New Manta Ray - Welcome Manta Ray Laili to our ranks! Here on Tumblr, she lives over at @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes, where she reblogs just a TON of fic. She also writes a bunch, too! If you happen to see her around, be sure to say hi!

Last week's #TweetFicTues prompts -

New Business:

Competitive Writing Sprints - Manta Ray Arthur will be hosting a session of sprints later on today! (2pm EDT) Add words to your WIP and win fabulous prizes! Click here for all the details!

Manta Ray in the Discord server - Manta Ray Arthur will be hanging out in the Discord server on Tuesday at 1pm EDT! This is your chance to talk about writing, ask about Italy, practice your Italian or German, or talk about anything else! Be there or be square!

Fishing For Treasures - Next weekend is FFT weekend here at the Pond, and this month we're celebrating fics with Original Characters! Submit any fics, yours or someone else's, that you would like to see reblogged here on our blog. You can submit links via the blog, or drop links in the #fishing-for-treasures channel in the Discord server! The deadline for submission is Friday at midnight, EDT.

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @heavenssexiestangel, and @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

[tsubakkyy]

Twisted Wonderland Arknights!AU HCs Part 1: Savanaclaw

Commemorating my return to this blog after 1212391813 years (rl has been overwhelming), I'd like to write myself a self-indulgent HC of a crossover between two of my current gacha game hyperfixations.

Some weeks ago, thanks to my insomnia, I made a thread on twitter to make myself sleepy. It's about TWST characters with visible physical characteristics that may pass as Arknights characters which includes their possible race as well but I can only post pictures without explanations. So now, I'd like to do the similar thing but I'm gonna break down the ideas.

Explanations including the description and lore of the races, a quick highlight of what I thought as interesting parallels in settings, stories, or characters, and simple wild guess about what specific animal species they could be since Arknights is pretty specific with the animal species' they referenced in this game.

Disclaimer:

English is not my first language and this post is so self-indulgent I don't even think much about the grammar or such so bear with me and my messy writings.

Pardon any lore inaccuracies of both games. Feel free to correct me if you find any.

Introduction to non-Arknights players and those who are not familiar with the game: Arknights is an RPG tower defense mobile gacha game made by Chinese developer 'Hypergryph'. The story of Arknights took place in a dystopian, post-apocalyptic planet called Terra. The 'humans' who inhabited Terra got kemomimi and anthropomorphic features of animals and mythological creatures, which then divides them into several races based on the animal they're referenced from.

Leona Kingscholar | Race: Aslan/Feline

Aslan is a race in Arknights which is based on lions, they're somewhat a sub-race of the Felines which is based on common cats and big cats. They originated from desert area of a country called Sargon, though many of them migrated to a country called Victoria, the Arknights equivalent of the United Kingdom. This race is known to bring the blood of royalty and prominent figures in politics.

The only aslan character in-game so far is Siege, the leader of a street gang called the Glasgow Gang and the last heir of Victorian royalty. Personally I like how Siege's rough vibe as a gang leader as well as her royalty background kinda matches well with Leona. Even I've seen some fan-artists draw crossover fanarts of them and boy do I need more of them.

Since Leona was twisted from the Lion King, I believe that his referenced species is Panthera leo melanochaita, a sub-species of African lion mainly inhabiting Southern and Eastern Africa where many assumed was the setting where the Lion King take place.

Ruggie Bucchi | Race: Reproba/Rebbah

Reprobas in Arknights are based on hyenas and the can be recognized through traits such as pricked ears and tails with tufts of hair, spots, or stripes. Just like the aslans, they originated from desert area of Sargon as well though many of them ended up spreading everywhere across Terra. They're known to possess knowledge in wilderness survival which is also why many of them are working as mercenaries, biologist, geology researchers, and such.

Since he's twisted from the hyenas of the Lion King, undoubtedly his referenced species would be the spotted hyena (Crocuta crocuta).

Jack Howl | Race: Lupo

Lupo is a race based on wolves. Their traits can be noticed by their pricked ears and bushy tails. In Arknights, lupos often live in a mafia-like community. They originated and mostly found in a country called Siracusa which is Arknights' equivalent of Italy.

Now, there are no wolf character in the Lion King and from Jack's unique magic we can see that his wolf form definitely doesn't seem like any African wolves (not to mention that unlike Ruggie and Leona who came from Sunset Savannah, Jack came from Shaftsland). His fur is white and seems thick, indicating that he's most likely a part of wolf species that lives in colder climate. With that in mind, I think the best referenced species for Jack is the Eurasian wolf or common wolf (Canis lupus lupus).

· ✦ ·* . • · •. ✶˚ . ·✧ ˚ · . ·* . ✵. ✵ .· ✵ ✫˚ · · . ·✦ ˚ · . ⊹ · . * .. . °

And that's all for Savanaclaw. I made this as a stress-reliever but if there are anybody who read this post I really appreciate you for your time and I hope this could entertain you🥰 .

Nobody's asking but, yes, I'm gonna continue making the 2nd part of this. Hint:

Images & information sources:

https://arknights.fandom.com

https://arknights.wiki.gg/

https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/

https://www.wikipedia.org/

[wordsmithic]

Why as a Greek keep saying "Westerners" "The West says about us" "The Western opinion" YOU ARE LITERALLY WESTERN?????????

Hey anon, you may have seen this meme:

The reason is that those countries - which are Western to Greeks and we do call them Westerners! - have stuff in common. They are colonial powers (yes, the US too! It was/is meddling with Greek governments too) with a centuries-long attitude of pillaging, exoticizing, and looking down upon nations like the Greeks. The latter is for our appearance (dark, hairy, not-too-dark, etc), our attitudes, foods, religion, customs, music, etc.

This attitude has translated into pillaging from the Greeks regularly, seeing themselves as the inheritors of Greek heritage instead of us, projecting on us the archetypes of noble savage and the white-savior at the same time, ignoring our existence completely - including the ancient, medieval, and modern ideas of Greeks on Greek texts.

Studying classics in Athens is completely different than studying Classics somewhere in the US, for example. Westerners often study the classics mainly in relation to themselves in the current age. Their resources ignore Greeks and scholars from other regions. They will build on bias after bias, with a scope stemming from 19th-century rich dudes, and translate our antiquity with their own cultural lens. (This happens with our ancient music, for example. They envision it 19th century Germanic, not what it sounded based on the instruments we've found) .

Based on how you approach ancient Greek works, I can tell if you live West of Italy. Hence the "Western" works.

I'm not saying that Greeks have no biases. However, studies from Greeks often take into account our history and customs as they are. They don't transform them into a western country ideal, like many westerners characteristically do. In addition, many customs and attitudes have remained from ancient years (how we view our ancient gods, turns of phrases, how to respect one's elders, what is direct and what is not). We are more likely to understand what older Greek elements mean than someone who has never encountered them organically - and yet confidently guess what those elements mean without asking the locals.

Western Classic Academia has issues that people inside it have identified already. One of those issues is trying to divorce anything Greek from the perspective of Greek culture - yes, even the ancient one. Ignoring Greek voices and perspectives happens regularly with Western students of Classics. Western authors with degrees in Classics write books very inaccurate to how the ancient texts themselves tell us, and they get praised by other westerners for how "insightful" they are.

Meanwhile, Greeks and other Eastern peoples have already discussed those themes and situations to death. Those - mainly Anglophone - modern white-knight depictions of us are very sanitized and hyperbolic. They have this attitude at large, not to look at other countries, only to theirs, for answers.

You have every right to consider us Western if you live east of us, and I won't tell you how to identify other countries. If we are Western to you, then that's fine. Our alliances are also mostly Western (but so are Turkey's (NATO and EE), and many other "Eastern" countries have Western alliances.) And we have alliances with Eastern countries, too. But if we are Western to you, then that's okay.

Please, consider, however, that the world is not clear-cut between "West" and "East" and everything is relative. Perhaps you have in mind a division based on Western European and N. American ideas. But if you examine the Greek culture you will see it's a sister culture of Lebanon, Egypt, Turkey, Iran, Palestine etc. Many Greeks literally hail from Minor Asia where our presence dates back thousands of years, and only ended with the 1922 Greek genocide. We will have more in common with someone from Syria culture-wise than we will have with a German. That's why Greeks cluster with Arabs and other N. Africans, Persians, Turks, East and South Slavs when we are abroad.

The crusades and the Catholics pillaging Constantinople solidified those differences to the point Greeks of the 15th century said "Κάλλιο σαρίκι τούρκικο παρά τιάρα παπική" ("better have upon us a Turkish head-piece than the Papal tiara)". Greeks were part of "The East" for thousands of years. Westerners changed their tune very recently on how they see us. They recently "allowed" us to be White, to be part of their "civilised world". From the time of Charlemagne they saw us as "the other", closer to the East than the West, full of debauchery and bad behavior. We, on the other hand, called most of the Westerners "Franks", and I supposed we had our own biases against them (can't recall some now).

You may say that things like philosophy, politics, theaters, mathematics etc are of Greek origin to a large degree (not entirely), therefore what Western Civilization is, is largely Greek. But those are not cultural elements, they are merely scientific methods. One's use of them will be directed by their own culture. Going to the theatre or studying Physics doesn't bring you closer to Greek culture. You'll have more success doing that by eating a souvlaki. And, let's note that there is not "one and only" Greek culture. Greek culture has had many facets and phases over the span of 3.000+ years.

As with any other nation, Greece is a mix of the countries that surround it. You cannot put us into a solid box, especially since we are a blend of "western" and "eastern" elements - elements as defined by the powerful countries of the West. Greeks categorize the nations west of them as "Western" and pinpointed differences with them.

If you think the Greek culture is the pinnacle of "Western Civilization" (which is bs as a concept, by the way because the Dannish would wrinkle their noses if asked to live their lives like Greeks) you may have a lot to research and reconsider. I encourage you to search our trad. clothing, our food, our music, our dancing, our interactions with other nations over the ages, and see for yourself. I will be happy to discuss more on this matter if you have more questions.

Leaving you with some of my fave Greek images.

[frodothefair]

Modern Eothiriel! The Rancher and the Model

The plot bunnies are multiplying, aren't they? Today, I got an idea for a modern AU. I don't know if I'll ever actually write this -- and my personal opinion is that a modern AU may as well be an original fiction nine times out of ten -- but here goes. My favorite thing about modern fiction is that I can easily draw on personal experience.

Lothíriel is a young fashion model who lives and works between Italy, France, and occasionally New York. On the surface, she has a glamorous, fast-paced lifestyle, but originally, she is from a mid-sized city in an Eastern European country, and her family is various levels of problematized, so she helps them financially whenever she can. (For instance, her father, Imrahil, is elderly and disabled -- and also a patriarch who runs the family with an iron fist; her brother Amrothos is an on and off unemployed alcoholic, Erchirion is a put-upon small business owner, and Elphir is a doctor, but institutional medicine in that country is notoriously underpaid, so he spends his time juggling his work at the hospital with private-pay clients, as well as pulling strings to get his brother into treatment).

Éomer and Éowyn are siblings who run a horse farm in the upper Midwest (a region of the United States), raising horses for show and for racing. Their uncle Theoden, who bequeathed them the farm, passed away in a tragic accident some years ago, and Éomer and Éowyn are finally taking a vacation, for the first time since his passing. They rent a property in the South of France, in a picturesque historic beach town called Eze, and they aim to stay and soak up the sun for at least a week or two.

Little do they know that the picturesque location is the site of a modeling shoot, and that's how Éomer meets Lothíriel. (The idiot probably wanders into the modeling shoot by accident, because he's too overawed by the scenery, and his head is all but literally in the clouds).

Their connection is instant, and they continue to meet at local restaurants and cafes, and explore the coast and nearby Nice on her days off. When they part ways, they continue to talk online, and over the coming months and years, they make time to meet between their respective commitments, in a different European city every time, where they spend their days lounging around rented lofts talking and making love, with occasional forays out into the world to attend cultural venues and find sustenance and libations.

But in the end, every long distance relationship is fated to end -- either by calling it quits or becoming short-distance. As a model, Lothiriel's days are numbered: most models do not stay in the industry past their mid-twenties, and modeling is increasingly less of a career, and more of a way to pay for whatever will happen next.

As such, eventually Lothíriel and Éomer do get married, and have a beautiful wedding that transcends time and space, celebrating by turns in her home country, then in one of Lothiriel's erstwhile "home bases" (Paris or Milan), and then on the horse farm. But after the dust settles and reality sets in... what then?

Inevitably, a life on a horse ranch is less glamorous when it's a day to day endeavor rather than a getaway. What is spiritually healing, relaxing, and exotic for a week or two can become spectacularly dull, especially when one's husband is often gone, the business side of running the farm is hopelessly opaque, and the nearest city with an airport and any modicum of "culture" as Lothíriel understands it is a two hour drive away. To make matters worse, the nearby small town, beneath its quaint veneer, has a drug and unemployment problem, and the local women of her social class are seemingly from another planet: they enjoy hearing her stories but see her an outsider, and their predominant interests are gardening, church potlucks, and perhaps bookclubs where they consume more wine than words.

Fairly soon, Lothíriel is at loose ends and even depressed, wondering if she has made a mistake, and if she and her husband have anything in common. After all, it's one thing to live jet setting lifestyle, meeting only from time to time, but quite another to live together when one is used to rising early and the other is a confirmed night owl.

Can Lothíriel find a place for herself in middle America? Can she find a way to be useful and bring her experience to bear? And most importantly, can she be a support and a partner to her husband as opposed to a listless and unhappy weight? Only one way to find out!

What do you think? @emmanuellececchi @konartiste @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @celeluwhenfics