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mayday396 · 1 year

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Happy Belated Valentine's Day!

So everyone, I'm here to tell you about the Origins of Valentine's Day which uhm both Wholesome and Tragic

Okay there this Saint called Valentine, he was known for being the patron saint of Terni, a province in Italy, and Lesbos, an Island in Greece.

He is mostly identified as being affiliated with people with epilepsy and people who are beekeepers. He was martyred and his body buried on the Via Flaminia, a Roman Road and you can find this place at Carsulae, North of San Gemini, a small comune in the Province of Terni.

(He was also the Patron Saint of Mental Illnesses, Affianced couples and Marriages)

The Valentine's Day we all know today is from the Feast of Saint Valentine, the Origin of that is because he was Canonised as a Saint but however he also has another reason why, so the story for that is that he infiltrated a Roman Prison while simultaneously Preaching the Lord to Persecuted Christians and Gentiles while he was causing chaos in the Prison.

Julia, a Blind Daughter of the Jailer of said Prison, was infatuated by Valentine, or well start Admiring him, no one really knows if Julia was Romantically or Platonically attracted to Valentine, around this time he was captured by Roman Guards and brought to Roman Emperor Claudius II in Person.

Claudius being Impressed by the fact that Valentine managed to Infiltrate an entire Roman Complex, then thought he could sway his heart from the Lord to Roman Paganism, but in a Sassy and Chaotic UNO reverse, Valentine instead turned their conversations into about Christianity.Unable to cope with the fact he got verbally Rekt by Valentine, he orders his Execution.

But before his Execution, he bonded with his Jailer, Asterius, this bond turned into a friendship as Asterius asked for his Daughter to be healed by her BLINDNESS, if you didn't get by now the daughter is Julia, and so he performed a miracle on Julia for her eyes to healed and that she could see.

Okay there is an unknown period of time between that point and the time Valentine got Executed, but I'm sure that it was about more ministering while he and Julia bonded together which would Explain why and how all of sudden Asterius, Julia and the Rest of her Family Members in their Household got Baptized and also would explain what he did on the day he was going to be excecuted.

On the evening before Valentine was to be executed, he wrote on a Piece of Paper which was a Letter to Julia, and signed as "Your Valentine" he probably at this point knew of Julia's Admiration or possible Feelings for him but due to fact that he was going to die and was on a Sigma grindset to the Lord, he probably just wanted to tie up any loose Threads, he gave that letter to Asterius to give to his daughter.

Valentine passed away but Julia would always come to his Burial Site to take care of a pink-blossomed almond tree that she planted beside his Grave.

Today the almond tree is a symbol of Abiding Love and Friendship, the Valentine Cards that people write today is Valentine's letter to Julia and the whole love thing is well about Couple that want to be together but know they aren't destined to be with one another.

Now if you excuse me, I'm going to be emotionally devastated for a few days.

#valentine day #feast of Saint Valentine #saint valentine #julia #asterius #roman priests #Christianity #the feels #i am emotionally devastated #pink-blossomed almond tree #Via Flaminia #Carsulae italy #italy #roman empire #San Gemini italy #province of Terni #umbria region italy #saint of mental illnesses #saint of the day

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stilouniverse · 5 months

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Itinerari di oggi su antiche strade romane: via Flaminia

Proponiamo cinque itinerari per ripercorrere oggi il tracciato dell’antica via Flaminia da Roma a Rimini raccontati dal prof. Giovanni Caselli Percorso vi Flaminia La via Flaminia dal Foro romano a Malborghetto (primo itinerario) La via Flaminia da Malborghetto a Civita Castellana (secondo itinerario) La via Flaminia da Civita Castellana a Carsulae (terzo itinerario) La via Flaminia da…

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#Antiche strade romane #itinerari sulla via Flaminia #ripercorriamo antiche strade romane #Via Flaminia

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storiearcheostorie · 2 years

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ARCHEOLOGIA / A Riano (RM) riemergono due tratti dell'antica via Flaminia

#ARCHEOLOGIA / A #Riano (RM) riemergono due tratti dell'antica via Flaminia #viaflaminia @SoprArcheologia

Due tratti dell’antica via Flaminia. lunghi 27 metri, sono riemersi nell’ambito dei lavori di scavo finalizzati alla messa in opera di una nuova condotta idrica a Riano (RM). L’importante strada consolare fu costruita dal censore Gaio Flaminio per collegare Roma con l’Italia centro- settentrionale e realizzata in soli due anni tra il 220 e il 219 a.C. Due tratti dell’antica via Flaminia sono…

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#antica roma #Antichità #archeologia #età romana #Riano #Roma antica #scavi #scavi archeologici #scoperte #strade romane #via Flaminia

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frenchcurious · 5 months

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Rome, Via Flaminia, début du XXème siècle. Source IMMAGINI RICORDI MEMORIE DEL PASSATO DELLA REGIONE LAZIO.

#rome #italie

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justtellher · 2 months

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Stupidly Lovely Human Traditions (A Good Omens Fanfic)

A/N: Felt like writing something fluffy for our ineffable pair this Valentine’s Day as a little break from my current WIP. So please enjoy this little fluffy one-shot that was loosely inspired by @gleafer’s adorable little comic that delighted my brain and spiraled out into it's own story from there. You can also read on ao3 here.

It’s a stupid holiday, he thinks as he passes by yet another gaudy chocolate-and-heart window display and weaves through the crowded Soho street filled with both shops and people dressed in their Valentine’s Day finest.

Humans had always had a weird sense of logic though for the organization of their holidays: from celebrating the birth of Jesus five months early so as not to lose the opportunity to decorate trees to the strange British tradition of random bank holidays with no assigned meaning. So really, naming a holiday of love for a man who was gruesomely martyred and buried on the Via Flaminia wasn’t that far of a stretch.

He barely manages to swing out of the way in time to avoid taking a dozen roses to the face as a flustered florist bustles by with a frankly ostentatious arrangement balanced precariously in their hands, and Crowley grumbles under his breath as he brushes a few lost petals off of his jacket. Yellow roses, he notes amusedly, denoting jealousy. He hopes the recipient isn’t well versed in the language of flowers.

Few humans were anymore though, a loss of knowledge which greatly entertained Crowley anytime he passed by a stand selling rather confused messages of bouquets. Now, it was simply roses, roses, roses for romancing one’s partner. If you bought into that sort of thing, which Crowley absolutely did not. Why did one need generic gifts given on a randomly appointed day to prove love for their partner? To be fair, he’d spent most of his existence without having (or at least pretending not to have) any romantic feelings of the sort. But even now that he and Aziraphale had finally gotten on the same page post the Second Coming of it all, he still didn’t see the point. It felt cheesy and trite.

Not to mention the utterly ridiculous levels of sappy, corny adverts, gifts, and romantic drivel that seemed to pour out of stores and his favorite television show breaks as soon as New Years ended. Torturous and hellish it was.

Which meant that naturally of course, humans had invented it entirely on their own.

He shifts the bottle of wine he’d just purchased to his other hand and crosses the road at a light jog to avoid the Valentine acapella service currently delivering a pitchy serenade to a young woman seated outside at Marguerite’s. Normally, he wouldn’t leave his flat on February 14th, much preferring to sleep through the nonsense, or he would slink over to the bookshop to badger Aziraphale into letting him lounge idly on the sofa. The latter of which he had been successfully doing until said angel had suggested the possibility of a bottle of wine, the type of which did not exist in the cellar and just had to be procured by Crowley from the local shop.

“Y’know, angel, you can still miracle things,” Crowley had protested when Aziraphale had looked over at him imploringly from his latest binding repair work.

A put-out sigh escaped his partner’s lips, “Well, yes dear, but,” the angel’s lips formed a soft pout as his eyes sparkled at Crowley over the rims of his glasses, “it’s never the same.”

And so off Crowley had gone to the wine shop, cursing his inability to resist Aziraphale’s pleading blue stare.

Speaking of said angel, Crowley belatedly notices him exiting the shop just as he makes it to the door with a huff, unable to stop his brusque forward momentum quickly enough to avoid their small collision. He slams into the angel with a small grunt, Aziraphale’s hands shooting out to grab his waist in an effort to steady them both with a small chuckle,

“Careful, dear,” those troublesome blue eyes glint up at Crowley, and the angel leans up to press a soft kiss to Crowley’s cheek in greeting. “Just stepping out for a quick moment, but you should go ahead inside.”

Crowley feels his cheeks heat slightly. He’s still not quite used to this ease of unguarded affection they’re afforded now. It feels surreal still, being able to love him openly. He slides his own hands around the soft curve of Aziraphale’s waist and returns the greeting with a kiss of his own to the angel's upturned lips. Aziraphale hums contentedly against his mouth, and Crowley’s heart gives a soft skip.

It feels surreal still, that Aziraphale loves him back.

“More miracle-less shopping, angel?” Crowley teases against his lips.

Aziraphale pulls back, face flushed prettily as he smooths his hands up Crowley’s chest to give a gentle tug on his lapels (which absolutely does nothing to the demon’s ability to breathe deeply). “Something like that,” he replies with an unfathomable smirk.

“You do realize that’s almost as infuriating of a response as wait and—” A sharp whack to his back cuts off his retort as another petite florist murmurs, “Terribly sorry!”, and scurries around them carrying a somehow even larger floral arrangement than the last one he’d been accosted with.

Crowley groans, “Ergh, bloody ridiculous holiday this one.” He gestures broadly, “Can’t even walk outside without being assaulted by sodding rose bushes.”

Aziraphale regards him with an amused smile and an affectionate roll of his eyes, “Yes dear, you were very brave to go out at all.”

“Bastard,” Crowley mutters lovingly, and the smirk returns to Aziraphale’s lips as he leans in to press another kiss to the demon’s mouth,

“So I’ve been told,” he whispers lowly against the corner of Crowley’s lips, and dammit that had no right to pulse heatedly through his veins the way it did. He tilts his head slightly to capture Aziraphale’s lips properly again, but finds that the angel is already pulling back and out of his arms. Crowley staggers slightly at the unexpected movement as his partner gives him a gleeful smile,

“I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tale.” And then he’s disappearing around the corner, leaving Crowley to stare after him as his heart rate struggles to even back out at the abrupt change in tone.

The doors to The Dirty Donkey open with a sudden bang, flooding the street momentarily with the blaring notes of “My Heart Will Go On”, as a raucous group spills into the busy street, and Crowley finds his earlier annoyance return to him with a start. Groaning in disgust, he fumbles for the door handle and throws himself across the threshold and into the respite of the bookshop, flinging his glasses off as he steps down the entry stair into the shop and sets them along with the wine bottle down on the nearest table. Sighing in relief, he takes in the familiar setting around him and freezes, mouth parted slightly in shock.

This is not the same bookshop he left earlier.

Tables have been shifted around so that they line the shop entryway more purposefully; Aziraphale’s prized gramophone sits on one next to two stemmed wine glasses, the gentle lyrics to I’ll Be Your Mirror filtering softly through the air from its speaker. Crowley swallows thickly against the sudden lump that’s formed in his throat. He doesn’t remember ever telling Aziraphale that’s one of his favorite songs.

Or that the angel even knew how to find a record he considered “bebop.”

The rest of the tables are covered in vase after vase of flowers. No one had ever actually bought him flowers, he realizes idly, as he moves regard the tables more closely. Pristine cuttings in a riot of colors fill the space, and Crowley struggles to take them all in as his lungs make a valiant attempt to remember to take shallow breaths. Because, oh, these flowers are not just roses; his eyes burn slightly and his chest feels tight as he takes note of the various arrangements.

And unlike most humans, Aziraphale had not forgotten the meaning of flowers.

He trails a tentative hand over a delicate blue hyacinth. Your loveliness charms me. Fragrant apple blossoms–I prefer you before all–fill his senses and compete with the gentle undertones of a nearby bunch of yellow honeysuckle: Devoted affection. Muted surprise catches his breath as he notes a stunning group of red tulips–I declare my love–and he can’t control the embarrassing stutter of his heart as he moves along the series of porcelain holders to admire the pure white bouquets of lilies and daisies. My love for you is pure and true. A selection of elegant dahlias sends a soft shudder through his spine–Eternal commitment–as the shop door opens and shuts softly behind him.

“I do hope it’s not too much,” Aziraphale begins nervously.

Crowley whips around to stare openly at his angelic counterpart, a small “ngk” escaping his mouth which makes the angel smile tenderly. Aziraphale stands before him, evening light catching softly on his white blond curls, velvet vest shimmering slightly in the sunset, blue eyes regarding him with so much overt love and adoration that Crowley finds he temporarily forgets to breathe.

Sometimes it still surprises him. That someone can have that much love for him.

“Just one flower was missing,” Aziraphale continues, crossing the space between them to stand in front of the still wordless demon. The angel chuckles lightly, “Luckily it's still very popular in human traditions.” He reaches out a hand, and Crowley finally looks down and takes note of what the angel had stepped out to buy.

A single, perfect red rose. Ardent love, passion. Love found at first sight. Crowley inhales shakily as he accepts the flower with a trembling hand, and he glances back up to meet his partner’s waiting stare.

“Aziraphale…” he manages to whisper past the torrid of emotions swirling through his chest. He clears his throat thickly, tries to find some combination of words that will appropriately convey the overwhelming affection threatening to burst through his ribs at this unexpected gesture, “I don’t k–”

“I know it’s a silly holiday,” Aziraphale interjects anxiously, tugging at his vest as he glances down at their feet. “It’s just…,” blue eyes look back up to meet Crowley’s with a determined sincerity, “we almost didn’t get this, and I think we deserve to celebrate these little, human moments.” A hand darts out to clasp the demon’s free one with a firm squeeze. “You deserve lovely traditions, and—”

A loving ache tears through Crowley, overriding his overwhelmed thoughts as he leans forward and captures Aziraphale’s lips in a searing kiss. Releasing the angel’s grasp, he brings his hand up to cup Aziraphale’s cheek and deepens the kiss as his partner releases a surprised breath, parting his lips under Crowley’s with a small whimper, and the demon focuses on pouring every feeling of gratitude and love that he can into brush of his lips, the sweep of his tongue. Words were overrated, he decides as Aziraphale clutches at his lapels in response and sinks his teeth gently into Crowley’s bottom lip, sending a flood of liquid heat up the demon’s spine and pulling a low moan from his throat .

Maybe this holiday wasn’t so stupid after all.

Aziraphale breaks the kiss on a shaky breath, pulling back slightly, and Crowley blinks dazedly at him as the angel’s lips quirk into a self-satisfied smile, “So, I take it no need to return everything then? Because I can always throw it all away…” Blue eyes twinkle in mirth, and Crowley chuckles exasperatedly. Bastard.

He’s ridiculously in love with him.

Leaning forward once again, Crowley presses his forehead against Aziraphale’s, “Shut up, angel.” He places a firm kiss on his lips. “S’Perfect.” Another kiss, and then he tips his head back to meet the angel’s now soft gaze once more, “I love it,” he whispers, emotion filling his voice; he smooths a thumb across Aziraphale’s cheek and watches the swirl of gentle emotions the action evokes in it’s owner’s blue eyes, “I love you.”

Aziraphale face alights at his words, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his mouth parts in a radiant smile. “I love you too, my dear,” his voice trembles slightly in a kind of disbelieving wonder that causes Crowley’s heart to thump painfully in his chest.

Maybe it still surprises them both sometimes. That they finally made it here. That they no longer have to pretend not to be a pair.

An idea surfaces in his mind suddenly, and he reaches over to lay the rose on the closest table, giving a small flick of his wrist toward the player to restart the record with barely a skip. Aziraphale’s eyes follow his movements curiously as Crowley takes the angel’s hands in his and pulls him gently toward the center of the floor, “You deserve lovely traditions too, angel.”

Aziraphale blushes lightly as he stares at the demon who places one arm around his waist and raises their other joined hands to shoulder height.

“Dance with me?” Crowley asks earnestly. Aziraphale laughs with a surprised delight and places his free hand gently on Crowley’s shoulder, stepping close to him with an affectionate press,

“I’d love to.”

Crowley smiles openly at him in return and begins to spin them slowly around the room.

“Did you ever meet him?” Aziraphale inquires as they move, “Saint Valentine?”

“Hmmm, don’t think I was actually in Rome at the time, you?”

“No, I believe I was somewhere in China during the 3rd century…”

One song fades into another as they continue to sway in each other’s arms; soft laughter and easy conversation echoing through the shop and filling Crowley with the peaceful, warm fondness that’s been permanently etched into his soul for the many millennia he’s known Aziraphale. A love returned and cherished now. His gaze catches on the myriad of flowers surrounding them, each one a love note, a card written in floral script, and he smiles broadly as Aziraphale says something unintentionally witty before leaning in to meet his grinning lips with his.

They were rather lovely after all, Crowley decides, some of these silly, human traditions.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens fanwork #ineffable husbands fanfic #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #good omens fan fiction #ineffable fanfic #ineffable fic #ineffable fandom #good omens fics #justtellher fanfiction #go fanfic #go fic #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziracrow fanfic #aziracrow fic #good omens fanfic rec #good omens fluff #this little fluffy oneshot just wouldn't leave me alone this evening #so here enjoy my little valentine's brain rot of these two being soft idiots for each other #back to writing my regularly scheduled feels next #chapter 4 of give me peace is almost done #I just needed fluff for vday #I blame everyone's fluffy fanart #especially gleafers who gave me the first wiggle of an idea that then became this fic #I am not an expert on flower language #I just harnessed some well researched articles via google and took my favorite interpretations shamelessly #so don't come at me

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harawata44 · 4 months

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【イタリアあるある】水道管を敷設するために地面を掘り起こしたら…とんでもないモノが出てきたｗｗｗ

以下転載 https://x.com/latina_sama/status/1744681260914802921?s=20

イタリアのリアーノで水道管を敷設するための工事を行っていたら、地表から90㎝下で古代ローマ時代に建設されたフラミニア街道を発見したとのことです。　A Riano emersi due tratti dell'antica via Flaminia - Associazione L'agone Nuovo

#歴史 #スポット #建築

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diceriadelluntore · 1 year

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Innamorati

Una festa è un periodo di tempo dedicato a celebrazioni particolari, a riti e a liturgie ben distinti dalla vita e dal lavoro quotidiani. Le feste scandiscono sia il ciclo dell'anno sia la vita individuale, nel cui ambito rappresentano a volte riti di passaggio da uno status a un altro. È anche l’occasione per rendere santo un giorno particolare, cioè secondo l’accezione etimologica (dal latino sanctus, participio passato di sancīre, sancire una patto), dargli una inviolabilità in quanto protetto da una sanzione: gli ambasciatori, i tribuni della plebe, le mura, le porte; quindi, in genere, tutto ciò che, consacrato da una legge morale o religiosa, è per ciò stesso inviolabile, o ciò che, per comune consenso degli uomini, è religiosamente venerato o è considerato degno di venerazione (Santo, Enciclopedia Treccani).

Oggi è un giorno che la chiesa Santifica ad un santo, San Valentino da Terni. Comunemente, è considerato “patrono degli innamorati”. Secondo una leggenda, infatti, battezzò un giovane romano pagano, Sabino, per sposare la sua amata cristiana, Serapia, nei momenti appena precedenti la morte di lei, improvvisamente ammalatasi di tifo. Secondo la leggenda, la benedizione di Valentino, dette un sonno ristoratore e beato alla coppia, che così potette vivere insieme nell’eternità.

Da un punto di vista più storico, la testimonianza più antica su San Valentino è contenuta nel Martirologio geronimiano scritto nel V secolo, che riporta la memoria del 14 febbraio presso la comunità cristiana di Terni; un secolo dopo la primissima citazione di Valentino del Martirologio, nella Passione di Maris, Marta, Audiface e Abacuc viene raccontata la storia di un prete di Roma che guarisce dalla cecità la figlia del principe Asterio e battezza lei, il padre e tutti i membri della famiglia, trovando la morte il 14 febbraio sulla via Flaminia, durante l’impero di Claudio II, e cioè tra il 268 e il 270. Il martire viene sepolto in quella che diventerà poi la Catacomba di San Valentino, al secondo miglio della Flaminia, sulla quale verranno edificati anche una chiesa e un monastero. La ossa del santo, tuttavia, verranno traslate nel IX secolo nella basilica di Santa Prassede. Il testo più importante riguardo alla vita di san Valentino arriva invece intorno al 725 ed è la Passio Sancti Valentini, che racconta la storia dell’oratore Cratone, il cui figlio soffre di una gravissima malattia alle ossa; un amico gli consiglia di rivolgersi a Valentino, cittadino e vescovo di Terni, che guarisce il ragazzo e converte al cristianesimo Cratone e tutti i suoi allievi, tra i quali figura anche il figlio del prefetto Furio Placido, che fa decapitare il vescovo il 14 febbraio al 68° miglio della via Flaminia. Il corpo viene recuperato da tre discepoli e sepolto in un cimitero fuori le mura di Terni, dove sorgerà poco dopo la basilica a lui intitolata. Dal racconto, tuttavia, è assente sia la data del martirio, sia qualunque riferimento che possa aiutare a collocarla. Per convenzione, si festeggia il giorno di San Valentino, il 14 Febbraio, data in cui si sa che fu martirizzato per decapitazione, anche la festa degli innamorati: tutte e due le cose sono non del tutto certe, ma la seconda lo è di più della prima.

Infatti il binomio San Valentino - Innamorati risale a tempi molto più recenti, cioè al XIV secolo, quando Geoffrey Chaucer, il grande scrittore e drammaturgo inglese, associò il giorno del santo a quello in cui gli uccelli formano le coppie. Ma c’è una distinzione: Chaucer individua il 2 Maggio, giorno di San Valentino patrono di Genova, il primo vescovo dell'arcidiocesi di Genova, carica che mantenne dal 312 alla morte nel 325, ma il culto è relegato solo all’area genovese. Nel 1391 John Clanwowe anticipa la festa degli innamorati al 14 febbraio. La fusione delle date nasce dal fatto che il San Valentino di Terni è molto più importante e venerato di quello di Genova proprio grazie alla sua celebrità.

In verità, tutto nasce da una sovrapposizione di date e di santi: nel 496, papa Gelasio I, 49° Vescovo di Roma, abolì i Lupercalia Romani, dei riti che si tenevano dal 13 al 15 Febbraio, in onore del dio Fauno nella sua accezione di Luperco (in latino Lupercus), protettore del bestiame ovino e caprino dall'attacco dei lupi. Tuttavia non sostituì nessun altra ricorrenza, se non quella storia del martirio di Valentino da Terni, che non aveva nessun legame con gli innamorati.

Ma è altrettanto vero che la fama della prima leggenda si sviluppò moltissimo nel centro e nel Nord Europa, tanto che esistono decine di reliquie del Santo sparse in Italia, Francia, Austria, Germania, Polonia e persino Dublino. Tanto è vero che Ofelia nell’Amleto (1602) dice:

Dimani è il giorno di San Valentino, e fino dal primo lume dell’alba io mi posi alla finestra per divenire la sua fidanzata. Allora egli sorse e indossò i panni e apri la porta della sua stanza e fece entrare la vergine, che tale non si dipartì più dl là.

W. Shakespeare, Amleto, Atto IV, Scena V

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