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trans-axolotl · 2 days

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content note: discussion of suicide.

this next monday will be the six year anniversary of losing one of my friends to suicide.

when he died, my high school barely mentioned his death, even though for other students who died by things like car crashes or illness, there were so many public expressions of grief. they believed that having any memorials for a student who died by suicide would encourage other people to die the same way. in their rush to erase the circumstances of his death, they erased the memory of his life.

there are so many things i am angry at that high school about in terms of how they treated mental health (mandatory reporting and collaborating with cops, their refusal to recognize the ways in which that system led to peer-to-peer crisis support, their refusal to recognize the ways that trying to keep each other alive through trial and error was scary and exhausting, carceral disciplinary policies, etc etc etc). but i think one of the things i am still angriest about is the way they enforced shame around his death. it felt like they were retroactively blaming him for the constellation of circumstances that made suicide an option in his life. it felt like they were blaming those of us who missed him and cared about him and wanted to grieve him. it made those of us still there who were actively suicidal feel even more scared about the reaction if we did reach out for help from one of those mythical safe adults.

as an adult now involved in psych abolition/mad liberation work, it makes me so fucking mad to see the ways in which he was discarded by people in authority positions. and the older i get, the more options i have found in my life for making sense of the world and finding healing and community and support which were never available to him because he died when he was 16 and the only things offered to him were a carceral psychiatric system that blamed him for his own fucking death. it feels so incredibly unfair.

i miss him and i think i always will; i can't remember his laugh or the sound of his voice or his favorite color any more and that aches. this grief is so heavy and it feels harder in a new way each year, when i become older than he will ever be. sometimes meeting new comrades or seeing new anticarceral suicide support models hurts because i wish so fucking bad that we had that back then. i remember how close we came to losing even more people that year and i know it is simple fucking luck that i'm still here when he's not.

i remember another letter (never sent) that i wrote to a friend while they were in an ICU bed after a suicide attempt when i didn't know if they would live or not. i have spent so much time in the past 10 years begging for anything to keep me and my friends alive, but even in that letter i knew that there is so much fucking violence that is hidden beneath psychiatric logics of cure and safety that promise a "solution" to suicide. I knew that institutionalization, coercion, and shame would not have helped build a life more liveable for him or **** or any of the people i've loved and lost since.

there needs to be more fucking options for care and support that aren't so incredibly cruel to suicidal people. i know so many people doing incredible work in alternatives, peer respite, a million different frameworks for healing and liberation. but it makes me so mad every day i have to live in a world where there are still people restrained, locked up in psych wards, having all autonomy and personhood taken away from them. knowing there are dozens of people every day getting blamed for their deaths the same way he was blamed for his.

i miss him. i cared so fucking much for him. and he died by suicide, and all of those things are true. he has been dead for 6 years and he lived before that and the people who loved him want to remember all of him; our celebrations of his life should not require hiding the way that he died.

Image description: [1000 origami cranes in all different colors and patterns that are tied together in strings of 25]

(these were the 1000 cranes we made to give to his parents, in memorial and recognition of how much he meant to us.)

#personal #suicide tw #suicide mention tw #psych abuse tw #psych ward tw #ok to reblog if u want #psych abolition #mad liberation #psych survivor #it's a lot of grief hours over here and will be for a while all week i think #lots of grief so many ways this year for so many people #but this week. his memory . my grief for him #is hitting especially hard. i think partially because of all the transitions in my life. i'm graduating college. he will never become an ad #adult.#i think i might ask my roommates if they will go do something to remember him with me. maybe making origami cranes and sending them off in #the river. or writing things down and burning them #idk. grief is hard #six years in grief is different. but hard

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days

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A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.

Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.

The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.

Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.

“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.

She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. ��He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.

Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.

“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”

“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”

“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”

“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.

“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.

Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.

“You alright?” he asks.

It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”

Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.

“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.

The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.

When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.

Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.

As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.

Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?

Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.

Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?

With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.

“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.

You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.

Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”

“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”

“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.

“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”

“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.

“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”

You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.

“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.

“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.

Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.

After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.

“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.

“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”

“I think that’s the other way around.”

“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”

Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.

Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?

Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.

Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”

You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.

“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.

“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”

“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.

“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.

“Be careful, Tim.”

“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”

“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”

Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.

Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.

“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”

“He’s not,” you agree.

Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.

“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.

“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”

“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.

Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.

Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.

He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.

“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.

Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.

“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.

His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.

“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.

Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”

“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”

“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”

You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.

Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.

As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.

#tim bradford x reader #hanna writes✯#tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader

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ancientcharm · 1 day

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Antinous, the beautiful young man who gave his life for love to emperor

Antinous was favorite and lover of emperor Hadrian.

"Antinous died in Egypt after falling into the Nile, according to what Hadrian wrote or, according to what really happened, because he was offered as a sacrifice. Hadrian was a great enthusiast of all kinds of divinations and enchantments. Thus, Hadrian honored Antinous - because of his love for him or because he would have agreed to die freely - since the voluntary surrender of a life was necessary for to achieve what he intended." (Cassio Dio)

"The reason for this would have been that Hadrian wanted to prolong his life and that upon asking a magician to take his place, everyone backed off but Antinous offered to do so." (Aurelius Victor)

Emperor Hadrian (reign: 117-138)

Born on January 24, 76, he was the nephew of his predecessor, Trajan. He was married to Vibia Sabina, grandniece of Trajan, with whom he had a terrible relationship but curiously he loved his mother-in-law, Salonia Matidia (Trajan's niece) like a mother. He is the third of the so-called "Five Good Emperors", however Hadrian was the only one of the five who was not popular either among the people or in the Senate due to his "revolutionary" decisions.

He was the one who stopped - forever - the expansion of the Empire. This was not welcomed at that time because territorial expansion was the soul of Rome since its founding.

He had an almost obsessive admiration for Hellenism, the Romans did not like this either. He was the first to wear a beard, something that the Romans associated with barbarism and "weird people". Years later, his custom would prevail as a fashion in Rome for a lot of years, but for his contemporaries it must have been shocking.

No one before or after him toured the entire empire as Hadrian did, which is why he is known as "The Traveling Emperor." This situation was not well accepted in Rome and even more so when his endless tours were not exactly campaigns to conquer territories.

He used to have sudden attacks of anger becoming aggressive, and hours later he would lament bitterly and try to repair any damage done. This "bipolarity" was seen as a non-Roman attitude.

And finally, the relationship with Antinous. Not because he was a man but because Antinous was not a slave and Hadrian had him in public concubinage, he was always seen next to the emperor and the entire imperial entourage. If he had been a young lady it would also have been considered inappropriate.

But during his long reign of 21 years there were no conspiracies nor rebellions against him; Because despite everything, he was a good emperor.

Unfortunately there are no historical sources about the life of Antinous but, thanks to his sculptures, it is known that he was a very handsome young man. As a teenager - but let us remember that the notion of adolescence did not exist in the ancient world - he met Hadrian in Bithynia. From that moment until the day of his death, when he was around 20 years old, he did not separate from Hadrian.

What really happened on the Nile

Antinous as Osiris- Vatican Museums.

After listening to a lecture and reading, I discovered that shortly before the death of Antinous, the emperor began to feel ill to the point that he feared an imminent death. But as was his custom, instead of looking for medicine, he looked for "magic spells" in the East.

When he arrived in Egypt with Antinous on October 24, 130, the arrival coincided (and was not so coincidental) with the religious festival that commemorated the death of Osiris, drowned in the Nile and then resurrected by his wife Isis. Goddess Isis was invoked in healing incantations.

Cassius Dion's suspicions are the same as other Roman historians as well as modern ones, because the death of Antinous was "coincidentally" during that religious ritual.

But those same historians agree that it was not Hadrian who asked Antinous to sacrifice himself. As the Roman historian Aurelius Victor wrote, he asked a magician for the sacrifice, but that man and the others backed away, so Antinous voluntarily decided to enter the Nile.

It is very likely that he really believed in those practices, that is, he believed that by doing this, his emperor could heal and live longer. Following the death of Antinous, Hadrian deified him.

#roman emperors #ancient history #roman empire #ancient rome #History

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itsjaywalkers · 2 days

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babe i miss ur rants like crazy so if u have any rant that needs to be indulged this is me indulging u <3333

this actually made me so soft.. i didn't know there was someone who enjoyed my rants so much.. i always feel kinda annoying.. i'm giving u the biggest forehead kiss in the world nonnie YOU'RE THE BEST

this being said . well

lately i've been thinking a lot about this band au i don't know if i'll ever write or if it'll just stay in my head, bc when i first started reading fanfiction i was OBSESSED with band aus and even tho i'm not that into them anymore . they make me feel very nostalgic and happy so i was like u know what . i should come up with my own. AND THAT'S WHAT I DID!!

anyways it's a dual pov, james and lily's!! they used to date, and since james is the lead singer in a very popular band, they were the it couple back then, everyone was fucking obsessed with them, said they were Perfect, peak romance, they wanted what they had etc etc. lily even sang with him sometimes when the band went on tour, bc she has a beautiful voice and all the fans kept pushing for her to join the band and sing all the ballads with james etc

but then . all of a sudden . she disappeared . not literally, you know, she just fucking ran away, without telling a single soul. she didn't even leave a letter to james, or maybe remus, who was one of her best friends. james was devastated, the band was devastated, the whole world was devastated. they went on hiatus for a lil before coming back with a very different vibe and since then . well . no one talks about lily evans . reporters try to bring her up every now and again bc they're nosy fuckers but james goes all stiff and his replies become stilted (even if still perfectly professional)

flashforward to . when the story actually starts . a new band has just debuted and it's rising to fame concernigly quick and james remus sirius and peter are going Crazy bc they feel a bit threatened and also oh would u look at that?? if it isn't sirius' estranged brother in the flesh!! playing the drums for this stupid band who's trying to compete with them!!

and if that wasn't enough !! lily finally returns to their lives............... she's also making a debut but as a soloist.............. and she's very Different from the lily they remember................... her songs are loud and aggressive and filled with resentment and very obviously about james and their relationship and james' friends. she's mean and bold and witty and everyone is Wondering if there was more to her disappearance than what they thought

it'll be jegulus and bartylily <3 and one of the reasons why idk if i'll ever write it it's bc one of the reasons why lily left is that she got pregnant and she didn't want it so she aborted and . we all know how this fandom gets about lily and motherhood lmao

anyways one of the scenes that's been plaguing my mind is this one that happens after lily and barty have started sleeping together and spending more and more time in each other's presence!! they're in barty's flat and barty wakes up at some point in the middle of the night just to discover he's alone in bed. so he wakes up and finds lily sitting at the kitchen table, notebook open, pen in hand and humming under her breath. he hugs her from behind and sees she's writing something new and they talk a lil, bicker some and tease even more, and then barty tells her she should write a song about him and stop dissing that stupid ex bf of hers bc it's getting old. lily laughs and asks him if he wants a cheesy love song and barty cackles and shakes his head and says that he'd rather have one of her dissing songs, bc they're fun and likes it when she gets all mean. besides, the press wouldn't believe her if she wrote something nice or sweet about him bc barty is always getting into scandal after scandal

lily does end up writing a song about barty, dissing him (affectionately except ppl don't know that) and when she first performs it live, she does so while just wearing one of barty's shirts and barty laughs the whole time while sporting the biggest heart eyes known to mankind

#asks #anons #bartylily

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aromantic-diaries · 1 day

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i saw this tiktok the other day, it was about a guy saying that for moths/long periods of time he didnt get crushes/feel romantic atraction, i went to the comments and wrote one of my own ("me my entire life (im aromantic)" or something like that) and in the comments i see tons of people (like more than 150 comments about it with even more likes each) that were commenting things like "me my entire life" or "me always", an im like "maybe you are all aro spec and dont know it yet" but i didnt answer any of these comments with that, it didn't feel like my place to say it? now i kinda regret maybe out there is an aro who hasnt accept themselves or doesnt know the word to describe themselves and that there is a whole community that feels like they feel but i didnt want to assume so i didnt say anything

To be honest I remember one of my online friends telling me "hey i feel like you might be aromantic" when I was ranting about my confusing feelings about romance and at the time I sorta brushed it off cause I was still in that stage where I was ignoring all the very obvious signs, I feel like it's better to let people come to that conclusion at their own time and figure it out themselves. And hey, these people will probably find these terms eventually since they're more readily available than ever, a lot of them might have already found it but haven't put the pieces together yet

#anon #mail time

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terranoctis · 17 hours

Text

I played Hades II a fair bit yesterday during my breaks and free time for Supergiant Games' technical test of the game. Part of me wants to keep playing today, but I got stuff to do and I do want to keep up the excitement for the early access. I wrote a rough, kind of unedited essay about it before I went to sleep last night though below, mostly for me to have record of my memories in written form. Some spoiler-y screenshots and random thoughts/analyses below if you want to read more. I mean it--there are spoilers and the most random long tangents because I like to analyze. (I do recommend playing first if you have a chance to)

First thing I'll say is that the game is pretty phenomenal and so damn fun. The experience reminds me of when I played Hades for the first time in their initial Early Access of the game years ago. Longtime Supergiant Games fan here (since Transistor release)! I remember running into a bug then and reporting it when I froze in-game, but I have not run into any noticeable bugs at all yet for Hades II. I've done some reports for minor bugs, but extremely minor ones that I actually feel bad for even reporting and adding to their list of messages to go through. Supergiant has their QA down, truly. I have so much respect for them and how they've developed the game. Darren Korb did an amazing job on the music again. It has that iconic Hades sound with the strings (that is not a guitar, I forget what it's called) while also being its own distinct soundtrack.

The 4th wall banter moments between Melinoë and Homer (who is revealed as narrator!) have been one of my favorite things about the story/narration execution. Her being cognizant of Homer does make it so there are rather funny moments, but also brings up the question of how that might shape the narrative later on. I'm so curious!

When I first started the game, I had a funny moment where I died almost instantly in the second room because I was testing out Melinoe's skillset and ran out of MP (?) and then got slapped because I wasn't actually doing damage when trying to use her bigger skills, heh. It did take me some time to get used to it, but Mel's skills and cast abilities are so much fun to use when utilized well. Her cast and its ability to hold your enemies for a time is one of the best upgrades to combat, in my opinion. For all I love the first Hades, I remember having to dash like crazy to escape exploding carts coming after me if I didn't have a good boon to mitigate or avoid that. With the cast for Melinoë, it'll change that to placing strategically some casts that can hold quick enemies or enemies that are very dangerous if they get close to you (wailers in this game are one such enemy). In terms of boons, Demeter's, Hestia's, and Apollo's have been some of my favorites. Aphrodite also has a phenomenal one for casts that will gather your enemies into your cast, making it an ideal combination with some devastating other boons that can easily damage groups of enemies all at once. Hephaestus also has a pretty fun one where I think he can explode in a certain proximity with your special or attack, I forget. I do wonder if they'll have to rebalance some of these boons because there are certain ones I can annihilate enemies with--but then again, maybe that is needed for later sections of the game.

The numerous references to the moon in the game are a nice nod to Melinoë's lore in Greek mythology and poetry too. Though she's more associated with being a goddess of ghosts (I find it a nice touch you can salute shades you meet in the Crossroads because of this) and nightmares (I don't think it's a coincidence Hypnos is the only other survivor of Hades' inner sanctum), Melinoë has at some point been referenced as a moon goddess as well of the underworld. Selene is the moon goddess and Artemis has also become known as a goddess of the moon in mythology in addition to being the goddess of the hunt. So that connection between the three and the friendship they share in the game is pretty cool in that regard (Selene calls you the "Silver Sisters.")

Having Artemis become your friend in Hades II, something akin to a friendly rivalry like Thanatos was to Zagreus, is such a fun story--and then you have Selene added into that mix as well. From the few runs I've done, I've gathered that Artemis and Hermes are the first of the Olympus gods who knew of Melinoë's existence in her youth as Hecate's pupil. She helped Hecate hide the truth of Melinoës survival (at least from the Olympus gods)--and when Melinoë was ready, it was only then that Artemis leaked through Apollo that Hades' daughter was coming to fight Chronos and had survived the fall of Hades. So the boons you get are because the twins, Artemis and Apollo, played a role in connecting you to Olympus for the fight against Chronos. There seems to be more in this background that I'm curious to learn about. Just from their banter, it's clear Artemis has spent much time with Melinoë and Selene in some form. I don't know if they have duo boons in this game (or boon-hex? Selene gives you a hex), but I'm curious to see what these two's duo boon(s) would be if they have them.

The game also does that thing the first game did so well of shifting the world as you progress and have changes in the relationships about you. Nemesis is one of the new characters in Hades II who doesn't seem to like you very much initially, but with your dialogue with Odysseus nearby, you get the sense that it wasn't always this way. When you gift her a nectar, Melinoë subtly starts calling her "Nem," and you can tell the two of them are very slowly mending whatever it is they have (Odysseus chuckles nearby probably seeing the progress). You also meet Doom Incarnate (Moros) and have to unlock having him at the Crossroads by invoking him, which is also pretty fun in terms of letting you slowly do more runs and experience the world more in order to gather enough "resources" to call him. It allows a natural progression of characterization and getting to know the people around Melinoë, in my opinion.

Dora's also one of my favorite character already. There's something so funny about Melinoë encouraging Dora as she tries to scare and haunt her as a proper ghost, but then also rather touching that she just accepts that Dora just likes to hang out in her room and not go out much. I love Arachne too, and how she's just chillin' like, I'm bored and alone and just spinning webs, so here Melinoë, have some clothes I made.

This game makes me love it as much as I loved the first one. In some ways, in terms of how they executed establishing background and connections between Melinoë and her companions (Odysseus' calls her a "little goddess" as a child! Hecate plays hide-and-go-seek with her!), I think they've started out much stronger than they did in the first game. And this one already starts with a sort of high-stakes situation from the get-go. Melinoë's entire family has been taken by Chronos and she grew up apart from them. The game does well of letting you step into the world even if you haven't played the first one--and playing on your affection for Hades, Persephone, and Zagreus if you did. After all, considering how hard you worked as Zagreus to bring back together that family in the first game, the second game logically comes back with a vengeance with Melinoë at the loss of such a family and a need for vengeance against Chronos for ruining it. The world feels familiar, yet the cast of characters are so different.

And the designs of all the new gods! And the new designs for the old gods! They're all extremely well-done. I've been a longtime fan of the artists for the characters and the environments. They've done stellar jobs on it again for this one, and there's more touches to icons and designs of the UI I like too. The dialogue log is one of my favorite things too, as someone who might miss a piece of dialogue here and there when I take off my headphones. The voice acting in this game is also a whole notch up from the previous game. Not to knock anyone from the first Hades, since I think they did a great job, but I do feel like the voices have been more professionally recorded this time around. Or something about it is a little more polished. Kudos to Supergiant for another game that's an A+ in my book thus far. Ahh!

I could keep going, but honestly, I think it's best to have people experience the game in Early Access. I mostly just wanted a record for myself to look back on for being a small part of Hades II's journey and share some of my excitement and the random analyses I had. It'll be fun for me to look back on how I read some things and how I felt when the finished version of the game comes out eventually.

#personal #hades 2 #hades ii #hades ii spoilers #readings and ramblings

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failedaethercore · 1 day

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Another chapter

So...I wrote that last mini fic I posted, but had this brewing for a couple weeks in the back of my mind, so...I just wrote it.

Obviously (if you read the last one) this is only my third fic ever. So I apologize for any inconsistencies or poor writing. I'm trying to improve.

Enjoy, and please feel free to let me know if you have any requests, I am willing to try!

Pairing: Rafayel x MC (reader, usage of "y/n")

Content: Some drama, mostly fluffy at the end.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

Rafayel twirled his paintbrush idly in his fingers, he was distracted, lost in deep thought as he remembered your last visit.

He had always put up a strong, flirtatious front. He always winked and smirked, and said something to put you on edge, especially when he could pull a clever innuendo out and make you blush first.

But more often than not, your straightforward and candid remarks, gentle and innocent touches, would drive him wild, causing his ears to turn a deep shade of pink. His blood would boil in his veins, unable to control himself whenever your naiveity showed, while you drove him closer to the boundary between respecting your boundaries, and tipping over the edge into taking what he wanted.

You had forgotten. Again. And that in and of itself was enough to drag his heart into depths of sorrow reserved only for those who lost their soulmates to the deep undercurrents. So when you fell back into his life…heh…more like, he tempted you as subtley as he could. The coral he had ground into paint was no mere coincidence. He knew what he was doing, and had hoped that somehow, in some way, you would be pulled in.

He had heard of your new position as a Hunter, so he had hoped you would be a part of the investigation. When Thomas let him know via text a Hunter had come to investigate his paintings, specifically the one that Raymond had bought before his death, he wanted to sing. But when he discovered it was you yourself, he was ready to dance as if there was a bonfire in the center of his studio. He was selfish to drag you back into his life, but he was done being the silent observer. His heart had grown too impatient, too ravenous.

Too weak.

But he gave in to the temptation, finally. His heart had won, and he was slowly playing this game with you, trying to tempt you to choose him, one more time.

Except…

Every small glance, every tiny smile, your angry face when you argued with him, the way the light reflected in your eyes when you laughed. They made his heart beat faster, his temperature rise, and his eyes darken. It would make sense to him, except you were so innocent now. Your memories would flash in your dreams, but never linger long enough to make him feel comfortable to reveal the truth. When you would mention those dreams…or sometimes, nightmares, his heart ached and growled against his ribcage, begging him to tell you. But you would remain in the dark until the day you remembered on your own.

He couldn't thrust the past sins of both your lives onto you, when you were innocent now. He would wait to let those memories resurface on their own, and let himself enjoy the time he has with you now, before the burdens of history rip you from his arms again.

He got to see you often right now, and you had come to rely on him, even if only a little. His heart sung when you would call him out of the blue, or send him a poke for no reason. You wanted to see him, to hear him, you wanted him to think of you, too. But he never needed a reminder to think of you. His heart would never let him forget you, even when he had wanted to. You were his soul, his devoted follower. His heart of itself.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

But now he was consumed by the thoughts of you, as it had been so long since he last heard from you…your recent silence was driving him slowly mad.

He dropped the paintbrush when the phone rang, his thoughts had dragged him far away into the depths of the ocean to reminisce. At first, his irritation overwhelmed him, but then he held a glimmer of hope. Could it be…?

It was Thomas. He left a voicemail mentioning an upcoming interview for a magazine. He had been really putting the pressure on him lately to be better at his media presence. But he sighed angrily, and threw his phone across the studio. It fell with a thud under the sofa, as he reclined against his elbow, sitting halfway up his ladder and staring at the unfinished painting before him.

The blurred smears of color weren't right yet, and he was already annoyed because of that. But you hadn't called him in two weeks. He knew you were on a mission, but the fact that you hadn't so much as checked in once yet, he was ready to snap. You usually at least sent him a text or something by now, just letting him know you were alive.

He refused to text you first, he wasn't the needy type. He meant it. He wouldn't cave. He wouldn't give in. You were the one being childish. Not him. He would hold out until you came to him first.

But when Thomas called again, and wouldn't leave a voicemail, but kept ringing back again and again until Rafayel picked up… He finally picked the phone up from under the sofa, and sighed as he answered. So when Thomas was saying that his bodyguard had ended up at Akso Hospital in critical condition, he didn't hesitate to drop everything and run. He didn't even bother to remember his phone, let alone change out of his wrinkled and paint-splattered clothes. He drove like a madman, the wheels of his sports car squealing whenever he took a turn too hot, and he didn't even apply the brakes if he could avoid it. Running lights whenever he could, if it weren't for the fact that the roads were quiet, he would have been pulled over and arrested for endangering the public.

He pulled into the emergency vehicle loading zone, parking and dashing in, ignoring the shouts of the understandably frustrated paramedics and drivers who now had to deal with his haphazard parking job. He sprinted to the reception desk, immediately asking for you by name.

"And what is your relationship to y/n l/n?" The gentleman behind the desk was clearly exhausted and overworked, nearing the end of his shift, as he glowered up at Rafayel's handsome face. Rafayel didn't even miss a beat, stating bluntly, as if you had agreed ages ago to this arrangement. "My fiancee, she's just been admitted in critical condition, where is she?" The gentleman takes a moment, before making a quick and quiet call to someone on the phone. After hanging up, his face hardened into indifference, as he looked up at Rafayel and motioned down the hall. "She's already been admitted to room C127. You can wait outside until the nurse is done in there."

Rafayel strides to the room without so much as a nod, and grabs the door handle. Before he can open it, he hears a long, painful groan from inside. Your voice. It sounds like you're in agony. He throws it open, shouting your name before the nurse can shush him for being loud.

Your body is laying on the hospital bed, weak but still very much whole. Scratched and battered, and clearly not doing well, but you are not missing anything that he can see. Maybe some hair got chopped off somehow, but you look beautiful to him regardless. He would love you even if you came back as a sea cucumber in the next life, he didn't care.

So when you locked eyes with him, startled by his shout and the slamming of the door, your blood ran cold. You had dropped your phone at some point, the screen shattered and the special hard case you had gotten completely useless, so the entire mission your mind had nagged at you at how worried he must be. You spent all your time teasing and sometimes flirting, but you hadn't been able to shake this feeling that you needed to tell him something more. Your thoughts had drifted to him frequently while you were out on your mission.

So when things started going wrong, and you mean very wrong, you couldn't let him know to wait for your call, or to assure him you were going to be okay, that your wounds were mostly superficial. His eyes, piercing and intense, bore a hole into your heart as if he was trying to make you pay for your betrayal, as if you had broken a promise from centuries past that you had made with him. You quickly tried to cover yourself in a defensive position, even from the bed.

The nurse immediately began to scold him, but he ignored her, as other staff began to run over at the shout. He was about to be escorted out, when you called his name. "Rafayel…" He stopped struggling against the orderlies in that moment. "Y/n! Tell them! You're my fiancee, are you not?!" You blinked through tears of fear, the repercussions of your actions would be indeed steep. "Yes! He is my fiance! Please, let him stay!"

The staff release him soon after, deciding to let it go. Before he could take a step into the room, he was pushed past by a tall, black-haired doctor. He felt familiar, but he couldn't place him. The door was shut shortly after with a cold, short "please give me a moment, she is my patient." And Rafayel stood there, dumbfounded. And a little embarrassed.

He glanced around as people whispered and stared, until he went to sit down outside the room on the chair, and folded his arms impatiently.

He was tapping his leg in annoyance until the door opened again. He stood and watched as the doctor left. He noted now that he was very handsome, and a pang of jealousy gripped his heart as he watched him solemnly nod to you in the room, and then ignore him on his way out. The nurse left shortly after.

You were laying there, in the room. You looked a little haggard now, as if the doctor's words had drained the energy out of you. He strode in, reaching your side in three long steps, only to grab your unbandaged hand and squeezing it.

You were looking down at your hand, as you tried to brace yourself for the barrage of questions, accusations, and the inevitable fight. But suddenly you felt tears on your hand, as his eyes blankly stared at you, large tears rolling down his gorgeous face. Your eyes locked onto his, and he nearly burst into an argument on the spot.

But you held your other hand up to stop him, before he could vent his anger. "I know. I messed up." His eyes softened as he took your other hand and pressed it to his cheek. "Don't do this to me, y/n…" The tears wouldn't stop, he was so angry. He had stayed home for weeks, absolutely worried sick over you, and the first thing he learns is that you've been injured like this, and you just ignored him instead of letting him know yourself.

Then he saw tears, returning his overwhelming emotions with your own. "I'm sorry…my phone…it got damaged…" You keep your hand clasped in his, the other still gently stroking his face. His eyes softened until he found himself holding you, his face buried in your neck. "Don't you dare ever do this again. Never again. You have to tell me when things happen…you must come back to me. Every time. In one piece." Before you could make another move, he scooched you over so he could sit beside you and hold you close. "This is why I hate your work…why can't you just be my bodyguard, and never leave my side? You're not supposed to be hurt like this, y/n…"

You wrapped your arms around him and held him for a moment. Your partner had kept you mostly safe, as he could handle himself, but you had fallen down a hill because of a misstep, which was the main cause of your obvious injuries. This was the first time in a very long time you had needed so many bandages, you usually just needed a quick patch on your way home. But this time you had messed up. You were such a clutz sometimes. But you would berate yourself later.

This man, this beacon of confidence and light-hearted whimsy, who always came bounding into your days with a smirk and a witty retort, was trembling in your arms, as if his world was shaken to its core. You stroked his back and buried your face in his collarbone, sighing softly in his warmth, as you waited for his quiet sobs to subside.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

He was on top of your treatment plan after that, talking to the nurses, and even Zayne, your primary care physician. They were cold and calculated with eachother, and Zayne seemed especially displeased when he now knew the supposed relationship between you two, but you knew it was because Rafayel had wanted to see you right away, he didn't want to be hindered at the entrance. He didn't love you like that, but you were happy that he cared so deeply, nonetheless.

Zayne took him aside and spoke with him frankly in private, and you couldn't help but overhear some of what was said outside the door, as Rafayel was questioned mercilessly about his intentions, if he was lying, and if he truly even cared for you. When he flat out stated that he loved you and would die for you, your cheeks bloomed red, and you sat frozen to the spot, unable to move ever again.

When a nurse brushed past the two men glaring eachother down outside your hospital room, you were forced to focus on something else, as she mentioned you should be able to leave tomorrow, as your injuries turned out to be almost all superficial in nature. You had been covered in blood, scratches, and some severe bruising when you had arrived, but there was no internal bleeding, no deep gashes, no major bloodloss. Your Hunter partner was elsewhere in the hospital receiving treatment, and she advised you to be more careful from here on out, as she wouldn't be there tomorrow to see you released. The scolding smarted, but when the two men came back in after the nurse left, the room's atmosphere dropped to a point below freezing, as the two of them still hadn't reached an understanding.

"Um…Rafayel, this is Zayne…he's my doctor, and childhood friend…uhh…Zayne…this is Rafayel…he's…" you trail off, unsure what he was to you. Were you just friends with a deep bond? You didn't want to overstep his boundaries, making assumptions on his behalf. "Her lover." He stated flatly, still glaring at Zayne with a firey rage. Zayne maintained his aloof nature, glancing away from Rafayel to look at you. Your bright blush returned as you didn't argue the point in any way, and that seemed to answer the question he had.

"…I see." He nodded curtly to you. "Then I will leave you two to talk… Make sure she gets plenty of rest after this, and don't let her move around too much, she's still wounded." He turns to leave, before you have a chance to say anything to the contrary, and you are left in a storm of emotions, overwhelming and causing your heart to bob in your chest like a buoy at sea. Did he mean that? Did he want that…why would he say that to someone so important to you, without asking you first…you swayed between anger and fear, to warmth and joy at the idea that he wanted you to be in a relationship with him like that.

Before you can speak, he puts a finger to your lips. "Shh. I'm not going to force this, but…I was honest, what I said." Your heart flutters at that. Normally you wouldn't be swayed by his words like this, but his eyes were full of honest determination. He held your hands as he looked into your eyes. "I'm going to let you choose. But know that I want this…" He kisses your knuckles as he continues to stare into your eyes, holding you transfixed.

You gave it a lot of thought before you gave Rafayel an answer, and surprisingly, he didn't push the issue. He did spend a lot more time with you lately, making sure you ate and relaxed. He kept an eye on your bandages while you healed, and kept your mind busy with games and chatter all day when he dropped by. He almost lived at your apartment for a few weeks, so much as to even meet Xavier on his way home from the hospital himself. The two also didn't get along, and you found them outside your door having a silent argument, when you came out to see what was taking him so long to come back with the snacks.

"R-rafayel…this is Xavier…he's my partner. We go on missions together." Rafayel's eye twitches with jealousy at the mention of it. Xavier gives a faint smirk of smugness. "Xavier…this is…Rafayel…h-he's my…l-lover."

And in that instant, Rafayel's heart burst, and his smug smirk outshone even the sun. You had made your decision in that moment, without having any thought behind it. It just felt right. Xavier nodded quietly. "Well…I'm back, we'll talk soon at work…" Xavier turned to leave, and you gave him a smile and a quick "uh huh". Before he had taken even a step, Rafayel was pulling you into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

You let out a scared gasp as he pinned you to the wall beside the door, and looked into your eyes, searching, pleading that it was true. "…are you sure?" You swallow hard, blushing deeply, before you let yourself finally nod silently. He smiles brightly, and takes your face into his hands gently, before placing a soft kiss to your lips. "Good. I was growing impatient."

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

a/n: I wanted something that pulled on some of the lore that really made you think about how Rafayel approached MC in general. I dunno, writing this made me happy. ♡

#love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #xavier #zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #fanfic #fanfiction #rafayel x mc #neer writes

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eightyuh · 4 months

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before i started posting Wick's End stuff on tumblr it was just me and my priv twitter mutuals and i feel like i'm at a point where i can share the hoodie challenge pic i did of glen + my friend's edits w u all

#WICK'S END #glendale goodwyn #glen #oc #i remembered the other day when drawing the genderbend that he has scars on his chest-#as we decided while making this meme #+ hair... he got hairy chest and arms #anyways shoutout to shadow editor zoey who has been freaking out w me over glen since day one #she's the one that wrote the AU fanfic too #WICK'S END FANART

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sisterdivinium · 1 year

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Finding "the meaning" to a show that could have had up to five or seven seasons but was cancelled after the second is somewhat like trying to understand a novel composed of seventy chapters by having read only twenty — there is a whole wealth of information which we do not possess that could alter our reading of any given element or of the entire thing in itself.

Still, there are always patterns that weave a story into a cohesive unit and they can help us to better grope in darkness towards comprehension. One such pattern in Warrior Nun appears to be how the consequences to mistakes, "sins" or evil deeds committed by characters manifest.

Basic storytelling usually requires characters to act on something so that complications or resolutions may arise from their choices and move the plot forwards. In Warrior Nun, many of these actions are quite tragic in nature: Suzanne's arrogance and pride lead to the death of her Mother Superion; Vincent's allegiance to the higher power he believed Adriel to be inspired him to kill Shannon; Ava's flight from the Cat's Cradle ends up damning Lilith as she is mortally wounded and taken away by a tarask... All of these events have negative outcomes and heavy repercussions on all characters directly or indirectly involved. Something changes permanently because of them, be it in the world around them or within the characters themselves.

And yet, it would seem that all of these dark deeds not only move the story forwards but might also have overall positive results. We would have had no protagonist without Ava — and she would arguably never have received the halo to begin with had she not been murdered. What's more, on a personal scale, the horrifying crime she suffers is, in the end, the very thing that allows her a second chance in life, a new life.

An act of outside evil permits Ava to grow and develop, shows her a path she would not otherwise have found. Without her own season in some sort of hell, Lilith would not have been able to advance towards other ways of being and understanding beyond her very strict limitations. Vincent and Suzanne would not have embarked on their own journeys of enlightenment without having caused the pain they are responsible for.

Beatrice might have been paying for someone else's mistakes, but she, too, is given the chance to grow into herself through it. The afflictions that torment these characters advance the overall plot, but they also advance them, as individuals, as long as they are willing to learn and keep going despite the calamities large and small that they are faced with. Beatrice keeps going after parental rejection, Mary keeps going after losing Shannon, Jillian keeps going after losing her son (in part through her own actions, adding insult to injury)... Trouble and the adaptation that follows it, if one is open enough to learn from the experience, motivates the characters, propels them forward, teaches them.

The problem of evil has occupied the minds of many a thinker throughout the ages, given how the very existence of it, evil, might call into question that of God (a good, omniscient, omnipotent one, anyway). A common way of justifying suffering (and also God), then, is by claiming, as Saint Augustine, that "God judged it better to bring good out of evil than not to permit any evil to exist".

Now, it would be rather ridiculous to say of Warrior Nun that it follows in Leibniz's footsteps, also because this philosopher, expanding on the augustinian concept, attempted to defend the goodness of a real God with his "best of all possible worlds" while all we have is... Well, whatever/whoever Reya is.

But there seems to be an inclination towards some sort of optimism as a worldview nonetheless.

Betrayals reveal truth and grant knowledge (Vincent's culminates with the coming of Adriel, which allows us to know of the threat of a "Holy War" and thus prepare for it; Kristian's gives Jillian much needed insight, William's lights up the fuse for the fight to be taken more seriously...), crimes committed willingly or not open the way for Ava (Suzanne's killing of her Mother Superion causes the loss of the halo, which is transferred to Shannon, whose death opens the gates for Ava to walk through after being herself murdered by sister Frances)... The magnitude of these positive outcomes is perhaps not "balanced" when compared to the evil that brings them about, but there is still something to take out of the catastrophe.

However tragic the tones of a given event, the show itself appears to shun the predetermination that makes tragedy as a genre; if everything is connected, here it at least appears to not necessarily drag everyone into their horrible dooms.

What's more is that this lurking "optimism" matches really well with our own protagonist's personality.

And it makes perfect sense that Ava would do the best she could with whatever she is given.

Life for her, in the conditions she experienced after the accident, would have been unbearable without some sort of positive outlook on life. However deadpan, the joking and the "obscene gestures" and whatever other forms of goofing around beside Diego are a way of turning a portion of the situation in her own favour. Proverbial eggs have, after all, already been broken right and left — might as well make an omelette of whatever remains.

Humour is just another way of looking at the bright side of something, or, at the every least, of mitigating the utter horror it might bring. If the show allows for moments of lightness, if it lets us laugh, if it takes us through a perilous voyage which still bears ripe, succulent fruit instead of the rot of pessimism and its necessary contempt for humanity, it is because Ava herself sees things in this way. It isn't gratuitous or naïve in this case, but a true survival strategy, especially as it is confronted with the morbidity of Catholicism.

Here is a religion that soothes its faithful with the promise of reward in the afterlife — how else does one charge into battle against the unknown, risking one's own death along with that of one's sisters, without the balm of believing that we shall all meet again eventually, "in this life or the next"? How else does one come to terms with the ugliness and the pain of this existence if not by looking forward to a paradise perfect enough to make all trials and tribulations here worth it?

True nihilism would have annihilated Ava. Her present perspective is what avoided the abyss.

And there is nothing Panglossian to her attitude or what the show might imply by giving us her view on things. This isn't about "the best of all possible worlds", but of making the best of whatever situation we're in, of taking what we have and doing something with it, something good, something of ourselves. It isn't God making good out of evil, but our choices.

Killing innocent people and feeling no remorse will never be the best someone can aspire to do. Sister Frances, cardinal William, Adriel all learn this the hard way.

Those who do their best find that, somehow, they can move on from whatever it was that paralysed them. Ava, most of all, knows what it is to be stuck, frozen in place; she can never be the character who refuses to grow, even through pain, lest she condemns her spirit to the same fate her body is all too familiarised with. Those around her wise enough to let themselves be touched by her, by the dynamic power she carries, walk forth with her and live.

It says very little about "God" that Warrior Nun should adopt its heroine's views and seem "optimistic" as it progresses — but it speaks volumes about the values it presents for pondering, of the inspiration its protagonists provide, and of the multiple reasons why this is a story unlike most others.

#warrior nun #ava silva #you know it's actually very funny to type this as someone who is very schopenhaurian with hints of nietzsche #but i AM doing the best i can too :)#again i will reiterate that i don't think this apparent optimism has anything to do with the classic theodicy #if anything i see it more as a cry in favour of antitheism -- this is YOUR life fuck god #life is shitty so carve out your own makeshift paradise out of the wreck you are given #and don't make things harder for anyone else in the process if you can avoid it #(but that might just be the luciferian in me speaking lol)#anywho this post is a translation of one i wrote not too long ago in cryptic english and a ton of tags #so if it seems familiar that's why #also i do find it rather telling that whenever i try to delve into how the show structures things i talk about ava #i don't set out to analyse her -- but in analysing the show i must analyse her as well if by the edges #which again points to how finely woven she is to the fabric of the entire thing #remember how i said ava is a representation of free will?#well this whole bringing good out of evil thing also touches upon it #saint augustine maintains that it is precisely free will that allows us to do it -- to choose good #of course he means it in a sense of being free to pursue god rather than evil but you see the parallel still works #(this is the post i mentioned in the last reblog. figured i'd go ahead and throw it in the wild since there are more brewing)#analysis and similar #exercises in observation

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tariah23 · 9 days

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Hm.

#Wasn’t Jordan peele the one who started that list to show support for Israel or something months back…#man it’s really soured my interest in his stuff now tbh #like that was crazy #he wrote that letter to Biden himself right?#rambling #I feel like ppl forgot that especially since MM Is coming out soon 😭#it sucks man #but I can’t even be biased a lot of ppl I adore was posting support for Israel as well and many deleted them but mfs still remember #a lot of ppl were just jumping on the bandwagon without knowing the full context and history of what theyd done to Palestine but it just #shows how stupid a lot of these people really are and were #just blindly following a cause that you don’t know anything about bro…?#just because your agent told you to or because you wanted to look progressive or whatever tf #it’s crazy

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lesbiancarat · 2 years

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i finished watching mr. bad (c-drama) the other day, and it made me really excited for exclusive fairytale to come out 🥺 tbh I'm not a huge fan of modern dramas/realistic fiction in general so i was mostly looking forward to it bc of jun, but watching mr. bad is making me look forward to the story itself if that makes sense ;-;

#its not like ive never enjoyed modern dramas before its just been a hot minute since i watched one i liked #also i highly recommend mr. bad btw!!#premise is that the MC accidentally summons the villain in the novel she wrote and romance ensues #but also the ML isnt actually that villainous hes a bit of an asshole for a few eps and then goes full simp mode #also the side pairing is girlboss ceo who likes extreme sports and her antisocial writer boyfriend who is autistic #they dont say hes autistic but as an autisitc person... he is 100% autistic and i love him #and also NONE of them know how to date but they keep asking each other for dating advice #theyre all dorks and i love them so much #its on viki the first like 5 eps are free and the rest are subscription only 😔#yes i did cave and pay for viki subscription again bc of this drama #i need to remember to cancel it lmao #ANYWAY #melia.txt

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rubberbandballqueen · 2 years

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i remember when i joined this site staff was one of the default blogs you followed (and probably the first blog i ever unfollowed a while later lol), but now that tumblr management has become, like, a force of good and all, it’s actually really interesting to follow their wip/changes blogs bc it truly feels like the vision they have for tumblr is, at its heart, community-oriented and personable.

and it’s nice!!!! it’s cozy!!!!!! everyone’s been saying it for ages as of late, but it feels! like!! a home!!!!

#the fact that we can TALK WITH THE STAFF and they will LISTEN AND RESPOND TO US is still so BEWILDERING to me!!!#i wasn't on the internet in the age of forums stuff like facebook and youtube where it feels like watching other people hang out #--instead of communally chilling online together-- is what i'm used to imagining when it comes to 'social media' and whatnot #we wrote essays in high school for the state and/or district abt how 'modern social media' makes teens feel isolated and whatnot #like the sources they gave for us to read and use were mostly just data-based and didn't really talk abt reasons why #and frankly i feel like we were too young to realize that online communities at one point could feel similarly homey to irl ones #like maybe a few of my friends hung out in forums and whatnot when we were in elementary/middle school #but mostly i remember the way online interaction was focused on places like facebook and stuff by the time i started participating online #which was admittedly later than my peers. i suspect there's at least one of my former classmates who hung out in forums #but i have no idea what he's up to these days and i imagine he's remade his online identity at least a few times by now #i looked up his old online name; it went inactive like 8 years ago which sounds about right! i was also right he was active in mc forums #i'm not gonna put in the effort to track him down that's pointless since after middle school we were footnotes in each others' lives #but yeah everything about this site feels so human and organic. like we the userbase made this site what it is with our own hands #n i'm so in love with that. how can i not be? it feels personal and deliberate. it might not be love put into this site all the time #but there's SOMETHING very human being pissed straight into its electronic veins and i love that as it is #the worm speaks

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sol-draws-sometimes · 9 days

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I’m on ep 91 and everytimeI hear something my literary/flowery is being spoken I black out. So stuff like, a story about you(tho I remember paying attention to that one and enjoying it), a story about them(literally the only thing I know is that a man that’s not short and a man that’s not tall are doing something illegal??), and all the traffics. I did listen to except an excerpt from the book w/ the Man with the tan leather suit with Michelle, so I know people tend to forget about him. Also, there’s the episode where he left and everyone remembered he existed now that he’s gone. Also this is tied to Lusia(the whole train crates thing)and apparently ep 14(it’s been 2 years since I’ve listened to year 1). Anyway, apparently this is now part if the new arc so wish me luck 🫡

You know it’s kinda fitting that I have no recollection of this plot point

#I’m not too worried since this show is eposidic #they’ll fill me in on what I need to know #FUN FACT! This is actually why I dropped Welcome To the Hallowoods!#The language was to flowery for me to understand just aurally(tho I remember liking who he wrote!)#I really liked it but even though it has transcripts I basically need to be reading+listening to process it #and I like to not read when listening to podcasts if possible #anyway maybe I’ll pick up that show again one day #wtnv #sol talks

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mask131 · 4 months

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The truth about Medusa and her rape... Mythology breakdown time!

With the recent release of the Percy Jackson television series, Tumblr is bursting with mythological posts, and the apparition of Medusa the Gorgon has been the object of numerous talks throughout this website… Including more and more spreading of misinformation, and more debates about what is the “true” version of Medusa’s backstory.

Already let us make that clear: the idea that Medusa was actually “blessed” or “gifted” by Athena her petrifying gaze/snake-hair curse is to my knowledge not at all part of the Antique world. I still do not know exactly where this comes from, but I am aware of no Greek or Roman texts that talked about this – so it seems definitively a modern invention. After all, the figure of Medusa and her entire myth has been taken part, reinterpreted and modified by numerous modern women, feminist activist, feminist movements or artists engaged in the topic of women’s life and social conditions – most notably Medusa becoming the “symbol of raped women’ wrath and fury”. It is an interesting reading and a fascinating update of the ancient texts, and it is a worthy take on its own time and context – but today we are not talking about the posterity, reinvention and continuity of Medusa as a myth and a symbol. I want to clarify some points about the ACTUAL myth or legend of Medusa – the original tale, as told by the Greeks and then by the Romans.

Most specifically the question: Was Medusa raped?

Step 1: Yes, but no.

The backstory of Medusa you will find very often today, ranging from mythology manuals (vulgarization manuals of course) to Youtube videos, goes as such: Medusa was a priestess of Athena who got raped by Poseidon while in Athena’s temple, and as a result of this, Athena punished Medusa by turning her into the monstrous Gorgon.

Some will go even further claiming Athena’s “curse” wasn’t a punishment but a “gift” or blessing – and again, I don’t know where this comes from and nobody seems to be able to give me any reliable source for that, so… Let’s put this out of there.

Now this backstory – famous and popular enough to get into Riodan’s book series for example – is partially true. There are some elements here very wrong – and by wrong I do mean wrong.

The story of Medusa being raped and turned into a monster due to being raped does indeed exist, and it is the most famous and widespread of all the Medusa stories, the one people remembered for the longest time and wrote and illustrated the most about. Hence why Medusa became in the 20th century this very important cultural symbol tied to rape and the abuse of women and victim-blaming. HOWEVER – the origin of this story is Ovid’s Metamorphoses, from the first century CE or so. Ovid? A Roman poet writing for Roman people. “Metamorphoses”? One of the two fundamental works of Roman literature and one of the two main texts of Roman mythology, alongside Virgil’s Aeneid. This is a purely Roman story belonging to the Roman culture – and not the Greek one. The story of Medusa’s rape does not have Greek precedents to my knowledge, Ovid introduced the element of rape – which is no surprise given Ovid turned half of the romances of Greek mythology into rapes. Note that, on top of all this, Ovid wasn’t even writing for religious purposes, nor was his text an actual mythological effort – he wrote it with pure literary intentions at heart. It is just a piece of poetry and literature taking inspiration from the legends of the Greek world, not some sort of sacred text.

Second big point: The legend I summarized above? It isn’t even the story Ovid wrote, since there are a lot of elements that do not come from Ovid’s retelling of the story (book fourth of the Metamorphoses). For example Ovid never said Medusa was a priestess of Athena – all he said was that she was raped in the temple of Athena. I shouldn’t even be writing Athena since again, this is a Roman text: we are speaking of Minerva here, and of Neptune, not of Athena or Poseidon. Similarly, Minerva’s curse did not involve the petrifying gaze – rather all Ovid wrote about was that Minerva turned Medusa’s hair into snakes, to “punish” her because her hair were very beautiful, and it was what made her have many suitors (none of which she wanted to marry apparently), and it is also implied it is what made Neptune fall in love (or rather fall in lust) with her. I guess it is from this detail that the reading of “Athena’s curse was a gift” comes from – even though this story also clearly does victim-blaming of rape here.

But what is very fascinating is that… we are not definitively sure Neptune raped Medusa in Ovid’s retelling. For sure, the terms used by Ovid in his fourth book of Metamorphoses are clear: this was an action of violating, sexually assaulting, of soiling and corrupting, we are talking about rape. But Ovid refers several other times to Medusa in his other books, sometimes adding details the fourth-book stories does not have (the sixth book for examples evokes how Neptune turned into a bird to seduce Medusa, which is completely absent from the fourth book’s retelling of Medusa’ curse). And in all those other mentions, the terms to designate the relationship between Medusa and Neptune are more ambiguous, evoking seduction and romance rather than physical or sexual assault. (It does not help that Ovid has an habit of constantly confusing consensual and non-consensual sex in his poems, meaning that a rape in one book can turn into a romance in another, or reversal)

But the latter fact makes more sense when you recall that the rape element was invented and added by Ovid. Before, yes Poseidon and Medusa loved each other, but it was a pure romance, or at least a consensual one-night. Heck, if we go back to the oldest records of the love between Poseidon and Medusa, back in Hesiod’s Theogony, we have descriptions of the two of them laying together in a beautiful, flowery meadow – a stereotypical scene of pastoral romances – with no mention of any brutality or violence of any sort. As a result, it makes sense the original “romantic” story would still “leak” or cast a shadow over Ovid’s reinvented and slightly-confused tale.

Step 2: So… no rape?

Well, if we go by Greek texts, no, apparently Medusa was not raped in Greek mythology, and only became a rape victim through Ovid.

The Ancient Greek texts all record Poseidon and Medusa sleeping with each other and having children, but no mention of rape. And the whole “curse of Athena” thing is not present in the oldest records – no temple of Athena soiling, no angry Athena cursing a poor girl… “No curse?” you say “But then how did Medusa got turned into a Gorgon”? Answer: she did not. She was born like that.

As I said before, the oldest record of Medusa’s romance but also of her family comes from Hesiod’s Theogony (Hesiod being one of the two “founding authors” of Greek mythology, alongside Homer – Homer did wrote several times about Medusa, but only as a disembodied head and as a monster already dead, so we don’t have any information about her life). And what do we learn? That Medusa is part of a set of three sisters known as the Gorgons – because oh yes, Ovid did not mention Medusa’s sister now did he? How did Medusa’s sisters ALSO got snake-hair or petrifying-gaze if only Medusa was cursed for sleeping with Neptune? Ovid does not give us any answer because again, it is an “adaptational plot hole”, and the people that try to adapt Ovid’s story have to deal with the slight problem of Stheno and Euryale needing to share their sister’s curse despite seemingly not being involved in the whole Neptune business. Anyway, back to the Greek text.

So, you have those three Gorgon sisters, and Medusa is said to be mortal while her sisters are not. Why is it such a big deal? Because Medusa wasn’t originally some random human or priestess. Oh no! Who were the Gorgons’ parents? Phorcys and Keto/Ceto, aka two sea-gods. Not just two sea-gods – two sea-gods of the ancient, primordial generation of sea-gods, the one that predated Poseidon, and that were cousins to the Titans, the sea-gods born of Gaia mating with Pontos.

So the Gorgons were “divine” of nature – and this is why Medusa being a mortal was considered to be a MASSIVE problem and handicap for her, an abnormal thing for the daughter of two deities. But let’s dig a bit further… Who were Phorcys and Ceto? Long story short: in Greek mythology, they were considered to be sea-equivalents of Typhon and Gaia. They were the parents of many monsters and many sea-horrors: Keto/Ceto herself had her name attributed and equated with any very large creature (like whales) or any terrifying monster (like dragons) from the sea. The Gorgons themselves was a trio of monsters, but their sisters, that directly act as their double in the myth of Perseus? The Graiai – the monstrous trio of old women sharing one eye and one tooth. Hesiod also drops the fact that Ladon (the dragon that guarded the golden apples of the Hesperids), and Echidna (the snake-woman that mated with Typhon and became known as the “mother of monsters”) were also children of Phorcys and Ceto, while other authors will add other monster-related characters such as Scylla (of Charybdis and Scylla fame), the sirens, or Thoosa (the mother of Polyphemus the cyclop). Medusa herself is technically a “mother of monsters” since she birthed both Pegasus the flying horse and Chrysaor, a giant. So here is something very important to get: Medusa, and the Gorgons, were part of a family of monsters. Couple that with the absence of any mention of curses in these ancient texts, and everything is clear.

Originally Medusa was not a woman cursed to become a monster: she was born a monster, part of a group of monster siblings, birthed by monster-creating deities, and she belonged to the world of the “primordial abominations from the sea”, and the pre-Olympian threats, the remnants of the primordial chaos. It is no surprise that the Gorgons were said to live at the edge of the very known world, in the last patch of land before the end of the universe – in the most inhuman, primitive and liminal area possible. They were full-on monsters!

Now you might ask why Poseidon would sleep with a horrible monster, especially when you recall that the Greeks loved to depict the Gorgons as truly bizarre and grotesque. It wasn’t just snake-hair and petrifying gaze: they had boar tusks, and metallic claws, and bloated eyes, and a long tongue that constantly hanged down their bearded chin, and very large heads – some very old depictions even show her with a female centaur body! In fact, the ancient texts imply that it wasn’t so much the Gorgon’s gaze or eyes that had the power to turn people into stone – but that rather the Gorgon was just so hideous and so terrifying to look at people froze in terror – and then literally turned into stone out of fear and disgust. We are talking Lovecraftian level of eldritch horror here. So why would Poseidon, an Olympian god, sleep with one of these horrors? Well… If you know your Poseidon it wouldn’t surprise you too much because Poseidon had a thing for monsters. As a sort of “dark double” of Zeus, whereas Zeus fell in love with beautiful princesses and noble queens and birthed great gods and brave heroes, Poseidon was more about getting freaky with all sorts of unusual and bizarre goddesses, and giving birth to bandits and monsters. A good chunk of the villains of Greek mythology were born out of Poseidon’s loins: Polyphemus, Antaios, Orion, Charybdis, the Aloads… And even his most benevolent offspring has freaky stuff about it – Proteus the shapeshifter or Triton half-man half-fish… So yes, Poseidon sleeping with an abominable Gorgon is not so much out of character.

Step 3: The missing link

Now that we established what Medusa started out as, and what she ended up as… We need to evoke the evolution from point Hesiod to point Ovid, because while people summarized the Medusa debate as “Sea-born monster VS raped and punished woman”, there is a third element needed to understand this whole situation…

Yes Ovid did invent the rape. But he did not invent the idea that Medusa had been cursed by Athena.

The “gorgoneion” – the visual and artistic motif of the Gorgon’s head – was, as I said, a grotesque and monstrous face used to invoke fright into the enemies or to repel any vile influence or wicked spirit by the principle of “What’s the best way to repel bad stuff? Badder stuff”. Your Gorgon was your gargoyle, with all the hideous traits I described before – represented in front (unlike all the other side-portraits of gods and heroes), with the face being very large and flat, a big tongue out of a tusked-mouth, snake-hair, bulging crazy eyes, sometimes a beard or scales… Pure monster. But then… from the fifth century BCE to the second century BCE we see a slow evolution of the “gorgoneion” in art. Slowly the grotesque elements disappear, and the Gorgon’s face becomes… a regular, human face. Even more: it even becomes a pretty woman’s face! But with snakes instead of hair. As such, the idea that Medusa was a gorgeous woman who just had snakes and cursed-eyes DOES come from Ancient Greece – and existed well before Ovid wrote his rape story.

But what was the reason behind this change?

Well, we have to look at the Roman era again. Ovid’s tale of Medusa being cursed for her rape at the hands of Neptune had to rival with another record collected by a Greek author Apollodorus, or Pseudo-Apollodorus, in his Bibliotheca. In this collection of Greek myths, Apollodorus writes that indeed, Medusa was cursed by Athena to have her beautiful hair that seduced everybody be turned into snakes… But it wasn’t because of any rape or forbidden romance, no. It was just because Medusa was a very vain woman who liked to brag about her beauty and hair – and had the foolish idea of saying her hair looked better than Athena’s. (If you recall tales such as Arachne’s or the Judgement of Paris, you will know that despite Athena being wise and clever, one of her main flaws is her vanity).

“Wait a minute,” you are going to tell me, “The Bibliotheca was created in the second century CE! Well after Greece became part of the Roman Empire, and after Ovid’s Metamorphoses became a huge success! It isn’t a true Greek myth, it is just Ovid’s tale being projected here…” And people did agree for a time… Until it was discovered, in the scholias placed around the texts of Apollonios of Rhodes, that an author of the fifth century BCE named Pherecyde HAD recorded in his time a version of Medusa’s legend where she had been cursed into becoming an ugly monster as punishment for her vanity. We apparently do not have the original text of Pherecyde, but the many scholias referring to this lost piece are very clear about this. This means that the story that Apollodorus recorded isn’t a “novelty”, but rather the latest record of an older tradition going back to the fifth century BCE… THE SAME CENTURY THAT THE GORGONEION STARTED LOSING THEIR GROTESQUE, and that the face of Medusa started becoming more human in art.

[EDIT: I also forgot to add that this evolution of Medusa is also proved by strange literary elements, such as Pindar's mention in a poem of his (around 490 BCE) of "fair-cheeked Medusa". A description which seems strange given how Medusa used to be depicted as the epitome of ugliness... But that makes sense if the "cursed beauty" version of the myth had been going around at the time!]

And thus it is all connected and explained. Ovid did invent the rape yes – but he did not invent the idea of Athena cursing Medusa. It pre-existed as the most “recent” and dominating legend in Ancient Greece, having overshadowed by Ovid’s time the oldest Hesiodic records of Medusa being born a monster. So what Ovid did wasn’t completely create a new story out of nowhere, but twist the Greek traditions of Athena cursing Medusa and Medusa having a relationship with Poseidon, so that the two legends would form one and same story. And this explains in retrospect why Ovid focuses so much on describing Medusa’s beautiful hair, and why Ovid’s Minerva would think turning her hair into snake would be a “punishment fit for the crime”: these are leftovers of the Greek tale where Medusa was punished for her boasting and her vanity.

CONCLUSION

Here is the simplified chronology of how Medusa’s evolution went.

A) Primitive Greek myths, Hesiodic tradition: Born a monster out of a family of sea-monsters and monstrous immortals. Is a grotesque, gargoylesque, eldritch abomination. Athena has only an indirect conflict with her, due to being Perseus’ “fairy godmother”. Has a lovely romance with Poseidon.

B) Slow evolution throughout Classical Greece and further: Medusa becomes a beautiful, human-looking girl that was cursed to have snake for hair and petrifying eyes, instead of being a Lovecraftian horror people could not gaze upon. Her conflict with Athena becomes direct, as it is Athena that cursed her due to being offended by her vain boasting. Her punishment is for her vanity and arrogant comparison to the goddess.

C) Ovid comes in: Medusa’s romance with Poseidon becomes a rape, and she is now punished for having been raped inside Athena’s temple.

[As a final note, I want to insist upon the fact that the story of Medusa being raped is not less "worthy" than any other version of the myth. Due to its enormous popularity, how it shaped the figure of Medusa throughout the centuries, and how it still survives today and echoes current-day problems, to try to deny the valid place of this story in the world of myths and legends would be foolish. HOWEVER it is important to place back things in their context, to recognize that it is not the ONLY tale of Medusa, that it was NOT part of Greek mythology, but rather of Roman legends - and let us all always remember this time Poseidon slept with a Lovecraftian horror because my guy is kinky.]

EDIT:

For illustration, I will place here visuals showing how the Ancient art evolved alongside Medusa's story.

Before the 5th century BCE: Medusa is a full-on monster

From the 5th century to the 2nd century BCE: A slow evolution as Medusa goes from a full-on monster to a human turned into a monster. As a result the two depictions of the grotesque and beautiful gorgoneion coexist.

Post 2nd century BCE: Medusa is now a human with snake hair, and just that

#greek mythology #medusa #gorgon #athena #gorgons #poseidon #neptune #minerva #ovid #rape in mythology #greek monsters #roman mythology

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