tartarus is here, tartarus is now

The word ‘fury,’ as we use it today, implies chaotic, unfocused frenzy, but the Furies themselves embodied justified anger, stemming from an adamantine moral code. In Homer, they are curses made flesh, released upon those who commit a crime or threaten the natural order. Seneca the Younger calls them 'they who with awful brows investigate men’s crimes and sift out ancient wrongs.’ In Ovid, they are the chthonic guards of souls judged too wicked for paradise. They are fearsome-looking creatures, unsmiling, uncrying (except, Ovid tells us, when Orpheus plays). They bristle with snakes—in their hair, wreathing their limbs, fastening their garments, held in their hands like whips. They dress in black or blood-red. Sometimes they breathe poison. This grotesque image might seem to be at odds with a righteous heart. But for anyone who might not be blameless, anger with reason and purpose and a will of iron is even more frightening than tumultuous, flailing rage.

#class solidarity in the 'western civilization must be protected' books dont make me laugh...

If I am the pawn of the gods, it's because they know me so well, not because they make up my mind for me.

“I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.”

have you ever seen that tiktok screencap of like. "me, an asexual aromantic devotee of athena". definitely potent extended percy jackson fandomism