something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.
it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.
and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.
on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.
edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.
Perseus, Daniel Ogden
Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet
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Wei Wuxian licks his lips and leans forward slightly, walking his fingers across the countertop aimlessly toward Lan Zhan. “You know, Lan Zhan,” he drawls, “A-Yuan says we’re both in the book.”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan responds, tracking the path of his fingers intently, “I am apparently Hanguang-jun, the moral upstanding hero.”
“And I’m the devious Yiling Loazu, who led you astray,” he smirks, peering at Lan Zhan through his lashes.
Lan Zhan meets his stare, head-on, lit from within like molten sunshine. “No,” he corrects, “not astray, Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian tilts his head, waiting for him to continue. His fingers stop their dancing, resting just inches away from Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan shifts his own hand, bringing them even closer, their fingertips almost brushing.
“The Yiling Loazu did not lead Hanguang-jun astray,” he says, eyes piercing as they flicker between Wei Wuxian’s. “They were partners, and…”
“Ah,” Wei Wuxian breathes, “the decent romance?”
Lan Zhan doesn’t answer, watching him closely. The pupils of his eyes have grown so large there’s only the tiniest ring of gold around the edge. He can see himself reflected in the black. He thinks he likes the version of himself that lives in Lan Zhan’s eyes.
They’re standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the other to take a step forward, bracing for a fall.
It should be terrifying, this sudden drop into something completely new, something entirely unknown yet so familiar. But Wei Wuxian is filled with conviction that no matter what, Lan Zhan will catch him.
It's as electrifying as it is calming, this certainty that here, with Lan Zhan, he is safe.
Wei Wuxian tilts his head to the side in a way he knows sets the unmarked skin of his neck on display. “I’m sure it was more than just decent, with a handsome hero like Hanguang-jun.”
Lan Zhan quirks an eyebrow, his gaze resting on the curve of Wei Wuxian’s neck, just as he’d hoped. "Handsome?"
“Well,” Wei Wuxian responds, tapping his index finger so it brushes against Lan Zhan’s fingertips. His skin is soft and perfect, just like the rest of him. “He isn’t wrong. You’re very handsome, Lan Zhan.”
“Really, Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan says, voice quiet and deep.
“Yep, definitely worthy of being compared to the beautiful Second Jade of Lan.”
“Is that so?” Lan Zhan shifts closer, the smell of him filling up Wei Wuxian. He smells so familiar, like something he knows intimately. Sandalwood, Wei Wuxian realizes, with sudden clarity.
Lan Zhan continues, “I would love to hear more about your opinion on my beauty and prestige, Wei Ying.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Lan Zhan. Why would you care what I think?”
Lan Zhan tilts his head, only just. “Do I need to? To want to know how your brain works?”
I commissioned this lovely artwork by the wonderful @lotuslate of a scene from my fic, once upon a time, 很久很久以前 where the entire cultivation world is cursed to live in the modern world without their memories and abilities, but of course wangxian find a way to fall in love all over again.
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