@onceabluemoonwrites / onceabluemoonwrites.tumblr.com
I did two pieces for the Greek Mythology zine that I was a part of (Ancient Stories). The first was in collaboration with OnceABlueMoon on ao3, for the story Odysseus: Oικογένεια. The second was a depiction of Daedalus and Icarus.
You're an incredible artist and a delight to work with!
If I may once again dip my toe into the discourse surrounding Greek Mythology, a lot of people like to rewrite or reframe the story of Medusa, and that’s great! Highly encourage it. But, DON’T YOU DARE GO AND DEMONIZE MY BOY PERSEUS!
Perseus isn’t some vile misogynist who hunts down and murders Medusa for the hell of it. He’s a scared kid who’s trying to save his mom from a forced marriage (whom herself has been a victim of terrible abuse from her father) to a creepy evil king and gets duped by the Gods into cleaning up their mess for them. He’s not the villain, he’s just another pawn. So if I see one more motherfucker trying to make him out to be the “real monster” I will throw hands.
You know what would be way more interesting?! Medusa sees Perseus rolling up to her crib and freaks out cause ‘holy shit this is a fucking kid. a fucking toddler with a sword and shield.’ and they hash it out and then TEAM UP to kill the evil kind trying to force marry Perseus’ mother! Think of the dynamics that you could write! The interactions that could occur. I mean, one of ‘em is gonna have to wear a blindfold but hey, minor problems.
What I’m saying is, gimme a buddy cop movie where Perseus and Medusa team up to fight evil in Ancient Greece.
I’m just picturing Perseus as this fairly well built sixteen year old kid, who looks a little underfed, and he’s like ‘ma’am I’m so sorry, I have to bring your head back to save my mom’ and medusa is like ‘okay, start over. We can work with this’ and compare trauma over some watered wine.
Okay but consider: Perseus regretfully tells Medusa he has to bring back her head to save his mother from a forced marriage and Medusa cocks her head and says “did the bastard say the rest of me couldn’t be attached?” and long story short Perseus rocks up with a Lady-Gaga-esque entourage of men carrying this gigantic silver platter with a giant metal cloche on top of it and announces it to his mother’s tormentor as the head of Medusa, and dude lifts it up and Perseus finishes, “and also the rest of her” and fucker turns to stone.
Medusa and her autistic girlfriend who can't make eye contact. Is that anything
Too bad the prophet Cassandra never met Odysseus
They say if she made a prophecy Nobody would believe her
I’ve gotta say, that is exactly the kind of stupid thing that probably would circumvent a curse.
Cassandra: YOU ARE ALL GOING TO REGRET THIS SO MUCH YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW.
Odysseus: Regret it why?
Cassandra: You won’t believe me if I tell you. If I prophecy, nobody believes me. That is my curse.
Odysseus: … I’m Nobody. Fill me in.
*A couple of months later*
Odysseus: HELLO PENELOPE, I AM HERE PRECISELY ON TIME AND NOT YEARS LATE incidentally I rescued and adopted a Trojan seer while I was away, she’s great, got me home really fast, Cassandra this is your new mother who’s not going to treat you like shit.
Penelope: … I’m going to need more details, but okay, sure.
Cassandra: *in tears* I love you, new family.
Cassandra: Penelope, I’ve had another vision.
Penelope, sighs: Go tell your father.
stop checking on them they don’t miss you
These are the words written on a post-it (a human invention) in Persephone’s bedroom. They’re written in what she fondly calls New English, aka the English that her mother still doesn’t know, even after all these years.
Every morning, when she wakes, she sees this post-it stuck onto the stone wall and makes herself read it out loud.
“Stop checking on him,” she says, arms wrapped tight around her knees. “He doesn’t miss you.” The words bring the familiar sting of pain, the familiar tightness in her chest, the accompanying breathlessness. There’s still a part of her that rebels at the thought, that clings to what he said before and not after.
She thinks she might have been happier loving a mortal, which is so in fashion these days that her mother is gallivanting about Earth like she hadn’t spent centuries chastising Persephone for the same. If she loved a mortal, she could bind them in ways that it’s impossible to bind a god.
She gets up and gets ready for her day. Being an immortal means that she can’t just spend all day in bed. That path leads to centuries of apathy and she’s still young. So very, very young.
“Go back to Olympus. I should have known better than to let a child into my kingdom.”
There was no “letting” about it. She’d been younger still and in chains and in captivity and in love. She’d beguiled and coerced so that he’d take her with him, made him free her.
She’d thought she was shedding her chains, choosing new ones that better suited her, but she didn’t see the way her discarded shackles slipped onto him. She didn’t see what a burden she was, what a burden she would become to him, how limiting, how heavy, how stupid.
It’s been five years now and she’s still counting seasons like she has a chance of being let back in. Summer and winter, summer and winter, summer and winter, ad nauseum. Her mother had said that she’d stick to the cycle, that the Earth actually benefited from winter, but Persephone sees the way the summers are growing longer and hotter, the way the winters are short but so sharp she could cut her teeth on them.
Spring? She stopped that a long time ago. The melting of winter is good enough for mortals and gods alike. They don’t notice and, therefore, they don’t ask.
ok but helen and odysseus have SO much potential as a brotp. his lying/disguise skills + her vocal impression abilities? the chaos would be UNSTOPPABLE
concept: the scene in little iliad where odysseus sneaks into troy to find the palladium and helen recognizes him, but it’s shot exactly like the window reunion scene from doctor who
the little iliad is a lost epic so i’m just going to assume this is what happened :)
Couldn’t not draw this out u///u
Eros and Psyche
My preview for the incredible @greekmythszine! I got the chance to work together with @harorolla and we created something to be proud of! Preorders are now open! You can find order here
We are officially open for preorders! With a team of 47 artists and 15 writers, Ancient Stories delves into the world of Greek mythology, featuring a variety of gods/goddesses, monsters, and heroes.
GIVEAWAY: @faneventshub has been extremely generous and offered to sponsor 2 giveaways—one for the full bundle and one zine-only. To enter, simply (1) follow our social media and (2) reblog this post or retweet our Twitter post (@GreekMythosZine). We will choose 2 random winners. If you’ve already purchased from our store, we will provide a refund. Good luck!
↓ Check below for bundle options ↓
We are so excited to announce that the Greek myths zine, titled Ancient Stories, will be opening preorders on November 10th!
Keep an eye out for that as well as previews of contributor pieces coming soon! All proceeds will be donated to the Human Rights Watch charity.
We are extremely excited to announce the wonderful contributors that will be participating in this project! Please check them out on their social media and give them lots of support. We can’t wait to share what they create for the zine!
↓ Artists and writers below ↓
We are extremely excited to announce the wonderful contributors that will be participating in this project! Please check them out on their social media and give them lots of support. We can’t wait to share what they create for the zine!
↓ Artists and writers below ↓
me, learning about the greek pantheon in elementary: wow, I love athena, so brave and smart
me, after reading about the story of medusa: athena is a spiteful, dumb bitch who can’t direct her anger at the right people! wack ass hoe
Me, after learning than Medusas head was used as a sign of safety and female autonomy in women’s spaces because it was seen as a gift from Athena, to allow Medusa never to be harmed that way again: oh dope, Athenas on our side. Kill a man who dares to look upon you with possession in his heart.
Me, after learning that Athena holds herself to the ‘not like other girls’ standard and usuallys sides with whatever the nearest dick-toting diety says: what the fuck what a fake bitch
Me, after learning that most of the media depicting Greek Gods by the ancient Greeks that survives today was commissioned, designed, and made by men, and therefore does not depict female interpretation or telling of the myths, and is probably extremely biased towards a misogynistic portrayal of a strong woman: the canon Athena was in our hearts all along.
Me, after hearing the myth about Athena cursing Arachne into the first spider because she beat the goddess in a weaving contest: What a bitch ? The Arrogance.
Me, after hearing there are three versions of the myth, and the others have Arachne hang herself in shame so Athena brought her back to life as a spider and the third version having Zeus curse the loser to never touch a spindle wheel and when Arachne lost Athena took pity on her and transformed her so she could weave without breaking her oath: Goddess just wanted this fine artist to weave forever, doing what she loved. she ain’t that bitch
In conclusion: We stan
When you learned of the god of war, you thought he’d be tall and muscular and angry. When you were about to meet him, you braced yourself for the worst.
You weren’t quite expecting the short, scrawny, shy kid you ended up getting instead.
Olive skin, black hair, skinny, dirty face with pale lines where tears had sliced through the ash and dust. A white chiton dress and a threadbare shawl draped over her shoulders.
A pair of wings - huge, black vulture wings, far too large on her tiny body - were the only things that suggested she was divine.
The general shifted his weight from foot to foot. Obviously respect had to be given to gods, but… “Er - I’m sorry, I was invoking Ares? The god of war?”
The child god shrunk in on herself, and pulled the shawl over her shoulders. She muttered something. “Sorry?” the general asked.
“Ares is the god of slaughter,” the child god said in a slightly louder voice. “Not war.”
The general looked at the priest. The priest shrugged, clearly lost at sea. “Well,” the general said, “then maybe Athena? Goddess of tactics in war?”
“Tactics,” the child god repeated. “Not war.”
There was a long, ugly silence, as the huge vulture wings shifted with the whisper of brushing feathers. “My name is - was - Iphigenia. Daughter of Agamemnon, king of Mycenae, commander of the Greeks who stormed the walls of Troy. When my father disgraced Artemis, and the winds of Greece would not blow her battleships to Troy, I was brought to Aulis. For my wedding, I was told. I was-”
She sobbed. Teardrops dribbled off her chin and fell to the temple floor. “I was fourteen. And then I was brought to the highest altar in Aulis, and - and then - and-”
Another sob. “I was fourteen,” she said.
The vulture wings draped over her, and she disappeared under the cloak of black feathers. When they parted, and when the child god looked up at the general, he fell backwards. Those eyes. Eyes he’d seen a thousand times in battle -
“I am the true spirit of war, general,” the child god said. “I am the goddess of bloodshed, of sacrifice, of the slaughter of innocents. I am invoked when men ravage, burn and pillage. I am invoked when mothers cry out, when sons die, when daughters are stolen. I hear it all, general. I have heard it all since the fall of Troy.”
The terrible wings opened up. The child god loomed over the fallen man, twenty, thirty feet tall. Somewhere, the priest was screaming. “How dare you call upon my name.”
Iphigenia
This is gorgeous.
