my mythology pet peeve is when someone describes a scenario in which they keep nearly getting something and then having it snatched away, and everyone's like "one must imagine sisyphus" no!!! one must imagine TANTALUS!!! sisyphus = being made to perform a pointless, aggravating task over and over without ever making any progress. tantalus = being offered a glorious reward only for it to vanish as soon as you reach for it. they are NOT the same
that fake uncited article that claimed odysseus was said to have hetrochromia in antiquity (he was not) led me down a rabbit hole of attempting to find any source on odysseus' eye color at all, only to discover there is none, which i find utterly hilarious given the repeated descriptions of his physical appearance. homer said "don't ask me the color of nothing he has MASSIVE TITS and THUNDER THIGHS. ive never looked him in the eyes in my life"
all the eye color dataslots were dedicated to athena
haunted house uquiz by streetlighthalo
This is modern art. The tragedy and hopelessness is perfectly encapsulated in your lack of a choice. Were you in his place, you would do no different. Because the gods have deemed it so, because fate is stronger than you. I’m usually not a big art person but holy shit
Wouldn’t leave my mind sorry
thinking about how orpheus turning to look back at eurydice isn’t a sign of mortal frailness but a sign of love
“Eurydice, dying now a second time, uttered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?” ― Ovid, Metamorphoses
This is true no matter the version you're reading.
1. Eurydice trips and Orpheus turns to help her because he loves her.
2. Orpheus cannot hear Eurydice behind him, and fearing that he's been tricked, turns to make sure she's there.
3. Orpheus makes it out of the Underworld, and so full of love and excitement to be with Eurydice, turns to embrace her, forgetting that they both need to be out of the Underworld.
No matter what happens in the story, Orpheus loses Eurydice because his love for her compels him to look.
Alright so I've been thinking about the parallels between Thirteen & Yaz and Orpheus & Eurydice. Mostly it's me just reaching, but I love this myth and its various interpretations a Lot, just thought it'd be fun to compare some things. There's an entire goodamn essay here, so read at your own risk. (also fair warning, there might be some mistakes due to english not being my first language).
So, Orpheus and Eurydice, the ultimate tragic love story. I'll start with the description of Orpheus in one of the versions of this story:
It just reminds me of a certain someone. People being driven to this mysterious person who has so much of the universe to show them? Yeah.
The Doctor's previous regenerations had their own Eurydice, someone dear to them whom, with various success, they attempted to save from where no one usually returns from (let's say 10 and River in Forest of the dead, or 12 and Clara in Hell Bent). Quoting Hermes from Hadestown, It's a sad song It's a sad tale, But we sing it anyway.
And now, not unlike Hermes, we're witnessing this tragic love story unravel before our eyes. But it's a bit more complicated this time around, less straightforward (no pun intended).
The Eve of the Daleks, this time loop, is the underworld that Yaz, the Doctor herself, and three more people need to escape from. However, Daleks, unlike Hades and Persephone, are relentless, and they won't accept a song as an apology for their genocide (well, I think they won't, but the Doctor never tried, maybe it would've worked, who knows). So, it's up to Thirteen (and the gang) to find the way out.
To bring Eurydice back into the world of living, Orpheus was told not to look back at her. In this case, it's more nuanced, but I'm going to go with this symbolism anyways.
In the good hearted weirdos scene, Yaz looks at the Doctor, and there's a tentative hope in her eyes, this fragile magic, the unsaid "what if?" until the Doctor catches her staring and turns back, and with her oblivious "What?" the moment is ruined.
Yaz, along with everyone else, goes back to the underworld, but unlike Orpheus, the Doctor gets a few more chances to save them.
She comes up with a new plan, and here we can see role reversal: Thirteen asks the reluctant Yaz to go, promising she'll be right behind, therefore turning into Eurydice herself.
Which reminds me of this beautiful quote from A portrait of a Lady on Fire : "perhaps she was the one who said: 'turn around.'"
The mission complete, the daleks deceived and gotten rid of, Orpheus successfully lead Eurydice out of hell. So 13 turns to Yaz, it's allowed now, she can look at her freely. But what she sees is this beautiful, young woman, so full of life, so happy, and it scares her. Because, being the Doctor, she's seen this look on her other companions, those who she couldn't save. and the Doctor knows that, no matter how hard she tries, she's powerless to stop death and destruction surrounding her. and her smile fades away, leaving her with the realization: she's not Orpheus. she's Hades. she's the underworld, from which Yaz hasn't escaped.
I think it's interesting how the warm light changes into the cool here, giving the scene pensive undertones.
Anyways, cheers if you read this far, sorry for this nonsense, I just couldn't get it out of my head :')
the gods are not dead. when men speak to me like i can’t read, i feel athena awaken somewhere in my bone structure. her mouth spits words i had forgotten i memorized, facts from the deep pockets of libraries. she revels in the way they stutter at the quickness of my tongue, whispers, here’s what it feels to be above the cities. i know demeter for the way i feel in dirt, i catch sunlight in my palms and beg people to be disgusted at girl unhaunted by pretty, my hair a mess and my legs hairy and my body thick. i’ve kissed aphrodite, i’ve met her not in lust only but in the girl who listens like she is tied to your soul. she comes out and we go dancing, unashamed of our sexuality. i have even been her, once or twice, on rare moons where the stars aligned. i know the rage of artemis. i hunt those who hurt my sisters, i slay demons, i run in night with red lips. and i am persephone, always, goddess of the spring, goddess of the pomegranate, of wanting, of riding her own horse to hades, of being two queens. when men take power from me, i hear her whispering. take it back, she says, tongue sweet, ambrosia in the blood stream, take back your city.
the gods are not dead. they live in women. they live in me.
it is technically true that in order to be “back” on your bullshit, you must first be off your bullshit. however, i am “back” on my bullshit in much the same way that sisyphus is “back” on top of his hill right before his boulder rolls back down to the bottom.
Aksjdhdskdh same
paris about to shoot achilles in his one weak spot with the guidance of the god apollo: vibe check
I laughed way too hard at this
I know tumblr really loves Persephone and Hades, which I get, but my favorite Greek Mythical figure has to be Ariadne. Until this year I had pretty much only ever heard of her in the context of the Theseus and the Minotaur myth, but her story actually continues past that and I love it. (Disclaimer, as with any Greek myth there’s a billion versions, but my favorite goes like this)
Ariadne is practically the personification of “the best revenge is living well” and I think that’s great.
this is good shit.
Hell yeah XD
Idea:
Medusa wasn’t Cursed with Snake Hair and Scales.
She Already had Snake Hair and Scales and was still the hottest lady the Gods have ever seen.
To be fair Medusa is supposedly one of the three Gorgon sisters, so it makes sense that there would be a family resemblance
Yeah that’s why I had to post this
I’ve read too many stories where it’s like “she’s a Gorgon” then near the end of the story they say “she was cursed with snake hair and features”
And I’m just like “…Wait.”
I think the only thing she was truly cursed with were the eyes that turn people to stone
someone draw beautiful medusa with scales and snake hair before being cursed p le a s e
I already had a little idea in my head so…
The men yell, “she’s a monster! She should be hunted down and killed”. They’ve said it before, they’ve tried it before. She steals women and devours them, the men yell. “She comes in the night and takes women away when they’re on a half-awake wander to the chamber pot or a drink of water. She steals them away to her lair and devours them whole. Why else do women not return?”
The women whisper, “she’s a savior. She should be sought for sanctuary and love.” They whisper it around the well whenever they see the shadows of a bruise on their friends’ bodies. Whenever someone who once was vivacious and bright is now dull and flinches from friendly touches. “Go in the night,” they say, “when he’s so drunk he sleeps heavily. Take only what he won’t notice is missing. Don’t worry about clothes or food, she will provide. You will be cared for. Why would you want to return?”
She says, “welcome home. You will be safe here,” with a soft smile and softer eyes. The snakes that curl around her head are more colors than you’ve ever seen in your life. She tilts her head as she takes in your bundle of precious items, the bruises on your arm, your face, around your neck. A cloud passes over her face and the sun, and you see the snakes are black. The look passes, the cloud moves away, the sun strikes the snakes again and they’re a shifting array of colors again. “Come, meet your sisters,” she says, gesturing as she turns and you look to see dozens of women coming out of the cave, smiling and happy. The group comes forward, splitting to either side of you, leaving a path to the cave and a path behind you leading back. “Welcome, you’re safe.” You step forward, peace settling into your heart. You will never return.
I love these stories about Medusa that go against the common myths
The men at the drinking party sat around laughing at the younger man. “You mean to tell us that a woman was beating her husband? Ha! What a jokester you are.”
“You are probably just too embarrassed to admit you got that black eye from doing something stupid.”
“Besides even if you were telling the truth, just be a man and fight back! Or have you no guts at all? We all know your wife is a spitfire but she is still a woman, and you are a man.”
The young man was used to these responses from the older men of the village, to the point that his heart was turned to stone from it. His wife, whom he had been arranged to marry, was not like most of the other women he had met in his life. She was cruel and truly wicked and often drunk. She took advantage of the young man’s youth and lack of experience. Even if the people thought that she was a weak woman, she knew that she was stronger than her young husband, who had less strength than a hungry dog. And of course, no one would believe that a woman could overpower a young man like that.
On this day however, the young man decided to take a chance. He approached the well where he had often seen one woman in particular talking to the women who had vanished only a day or two before then, and she was there today.
“Excuse me. I have a quick question for you.”
The woman, who was just pulling her bucket out of the well turned to him somewhat surprised. “Yes?”
“Is…is it true…what the women whisper about the Gorgon in the woods…that…she helps women whose husbands beat them?”
The woman seemed suspicious of him at first, “Where did you hear that?”
“I just…” the man looked around nervously before removing the bandages from his face to show her his purple-ringed eye and swollen lip.
The woman hesitated before repeating the words she often did to many others, “ Go in the night,” she said, “when he-…she is so drunk he sleeps heavily. Take only what she won’t notice is missing. Don’t worry about clothes or food, she will provide. You will be cared for. Why would you want to return?”
Before the young man could even thank her, his wife stormed up behind him, “What are you doing talking to another woman!?”
The young man hesitated before the woman at the well said, “He saw me struggling with my bucket and came to help me. Nothing more.”
“I see.” his wife grumbled, clearly still skeptical.
A few nights later, the young man fled. He was quiet and stealthy, until he got to the forest, where he quickly pushed forward into a sprint. He ran and ran, doing his best to remember the directions to the place that promised safety.
Once at last he came across the cave, he stood panting at its mouth before taking his first steps in. He soon found himself in a big lit chamber, women whom he had recognized as from his same village sat around. Some drinking and eating, others playing games, others braiding each other’s hair. But when he entered, they all looked up at him, some in surprise, others in shock, or fear.
“What is a man doing here?” they whispered, “Has the village sent a mercenary after Medusa?” “Are we no longer safe here?” the whispers grew into an almost deafening cacophony of the same hopelessness he felt back in the village. Surely, he thought, these women who are fearful of their husbands would not want to welcome a man among them. Perhaps I should have stayed at home, and let them be.
However, when he turned to leave, he found himself face to face with the gorgon woman. Her eyes seemed to pierce deep into his very soul, as if to weed through the annals of his true self.
His mind raced, trying to think of what to say to defend himself against this protector of women, to justify his entrance into this blessed sanctuary for the broken and beaten. But before he could part his lips, she spoke.
“Fear not my sisters. Look upon the wounds on his face. He too has come hear for safety from violence. Look into his eyes. He is afraid and hurt, as many of you were when you first came to me. Young man, you are welcome here, for this is a place of safety from cruelty. I know all too well that the hardships of life do not discriminate those of whom they strike against. Come, to your new home, and meet your sisters. Come and be safe.”
She gently took his bundles and began to carry them away, and when she looked back at him to see if he was following, he felt her eyes peer deep inside him, and begin to shed away the stone that had encased his heart.
(I hope you like this addition because male abuse victims also need happy endings.)
Oh my gosh…
This is such a beautiful and tearjerking addition
Thank you
So a Greek mythology headcanon where Aphrodite can appear either male or female, and she looks like a really fucking sexy guy to gay dudes because that’s who they find attractive And some Greek bro is out with his buddies when she shows up and he’s all “Wow look at how ripped this dude is no homo” and his buddies are all “What the fuck man that’s a beautiful lady” and that’s how he finds out he’s hella gay
OMG you just opened a door to some amazing head canons How do you see Aphrodite if you’re ace, aro, Demi, pan, bi???
I bet if you’re bi/ pan, she shifts between genders.
If you’re ace, instead of looking super hot, she looks pretty ordinary, but still aesthetically pleasing, and she has a very kind face and a sweet voice and intelligent eyes. So, romantically appealing.
If you’re demi then she starts off at regular pretty level, but gets steadily hotter as you fall for her.
If you’re aro-ace, she’s invisible (and it pisses her off SO MUCH but she can’t do anything about it).
As an aro ace I strongly approve of this unique opportunity to piss off a Greek god without being murdered or getting turned into a tree or some shit
Nìiiiiiiiice XD
Omg how fucking dare you
here have some more nonsense.
this is after she gets back from the underworld. ;P
Oh I love this!!
YASS I love how the flowers get bigger as she gets closer XD
