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thedansemacabres · 6 months

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A Modern Understanding of Dionysus Hestios

Photo from a vineyard I worked on.

[ID: A close-up image of a Chardonnay white-wine grapevine with three clusters. The clusters are green with some red. Bright green leaves cover the top of the clusters, while below a black irrigation line is visible. The ground below is covered in woodchips, except for a single plant below the clusters].

HESTIOS IS A FUN YET OBSCURE EPITHET OF DIONYSUS. We can infer some of its context due to Zeus Hestios, that being a protector of the home and hearth. This epithet of Dionysus is a favourite of mine—for my home and hearth, he is a household deity as I am a viticulturist and winemaker. My life and livelihood is partially bound by grapevines as I currently work at an orchard that is establishing a vineyard and my responsibility is to make it happen.

The context of this epithet is little known beyond a passage in Pausanias’ iconic Description of Greece:

Pausanias, Description of Greece 1. 2. 5 (trans. Jones) (Greek travelogue C2nd A.D.) : "From the gate to the Kerameikos [in Athens] there are porticoes . . . containing shrines of gods, and a gymnasium called that of Hermes. In it is the house of Poulytion . . . [which] in my time it was devoted to the worship of Dionysos. This Dionysos they call Melpomenos (Minstrel) [i.e. of Melpomene, the muse of tragedy], on the same principle as they call Apollon Mousegetes (Leader of the Muses) . . . After the precinct of Apollon is a building that contains earthen ware images, Amphiktyon, king of Athens, Dionysos Hestios (Feasting or Of the Hearth) and other gods. Here also is Pegasos of Eleutherai, who introduced the god [Dionysos] to the Athenians. Herein he was helped by the oracle at Delphoi, which called to mind that the god once dwelt in Athens in the days of Ikarios."

Dionysus Hestios is mentioned in Athens, along with his myth of his devotee Pegasos bringing his cult to the city. Other than references to Zeus Hestios, I have not found any more context for this epithet beyond protecting the home/hearth. Therefore, this aspect of him will be a contender for a strong upg basis.

In my times in wine, I’ve gathered my own gnosis of Dionysus Hestios. He is a protector of the hearth, but in my personal experience, the table wine aspect of Dionysus.

TABLE WINE IN THE MODERN WORLD

Table wine is named exactly for what it is, a wine that sits at your dinner table and a key part of a meal. Italy especially is famous for its cheap table wines, many of which I’ve had at my own tables and dinners. Most commercial wines these days are made to be drinkable on their own—while table wines are uncomfortable and harsh on the tongue. With food, they transform, turning these harsh and bitter wines into something truly enjoyable. It also makes the food taste better. For anyone unknowing, that’s why wine and food pairing is a thing. Unfortunately, the table wine market is slowly beginning to crumble—most modern wine drinkers enjoy more of a good tasting drink instead of a complement of one’s meal. If you have the chance, I recommend buying some and trying it in pairings—it’s a dying market, sadly, and one that has an ancient history behind it.

While table wines slowly fade, there is always a place for them in our lives. I myself have fond memories of a terribly bitter wine being served at my family’s table, and while I hated the taste, I’ve come to fall in love with them in recent years. Dionysus Hestios as a god of the home is a god of table wine, the happy smiles and festive memories of people having their Chianti with some steak or pasta. It’s the thrill of a good food pairing, a decanter, and the hundred years history of people making wine for the common folk instead of just for the aristocrats and their “noble” grapes.

Dionysus Hestios, Hearth warmer, master Of your craft, joy becoming Protect our heart and wine, Let us dance and joy, Under your blessings Of the woody grapevine.

References

DIONYSUS CULT 1 - Ancient Greek Religion. (n.d.). https://www.theoi.com/Cult/DionysosCult.html

#dragonis.txt #dionysus deity #dionysos deity #dionysus worship #dionysos worship #dionysus devotee #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheism #hellenic paganism #paganism #witchcraft #witchblr #vinum

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aphroditelovesu · 1 month

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Hi! Love letters are open now and I realised Dionysus doesn't have one yet, if possible could you write one from him? Thank you! 💜

Dear (Y/N),

In the vines of your eyes I find the sweetest fermentation, the divine intoxication that makes me lose myself in ecstasy. Like a passionate winemaker, I taste every trace of your essence, diving into the depths of your being like someone tasting heavenly nectar. As a god of wine and feasting, I am used to being worshiped, but you awaken in me a deeper desire, an insatiable need to have you all to myself.

Oh, how your beauty is like a field of ripe grapes in the sunlight, exuding a divine aroma that intoxicates my soul. Your every gesture is like a sacred dance, every word like a celestial melody that touches the deepest corners of my being.

In your embrace, I find the ecstasy that only the gods can know. Your kisses are like the nectar of the gods, flooding me with a sweetness that transcends the limits of mortality. Your presence is my source of inspiration, my reason to celebrate life in all its fullness.

I promise you lust and devotion, intense emotions that only a god like me can offer. But I also warn you, my beloved, that I will never share you. I will not tolerate challenges to our union. If necessary, I will do everything possible to keep you by my side, even if it means resorting to madness. You have been mine since the moment our eyes met.

My love for you is as vast as the oceans, as eternal as the starry sky. May this letter express just a fraction of what I feel for you, as words cannot capture the magnitude of the love that burns in my chest.

May our journeys intertwine like vines in a vineyard, growing together in harmony and fertility. May each sip of wine be a toast to our love, each laugh a symphony of shared joy. So accept my love, my control, my protection. Be mine and mine alone, and I will lift you to the heavens, give you pleasure beyond the limits of mortality.

With devotion and eternal desire,

Dionysus.

#yandere love letter #love letter #greek gods x reader #greek mythology #yandere greek gods #yandere greek mythology #yandere dionysus #dionysus x reader #yandere dionysus x reader

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vrisbian · 1 year

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You know too many people romanticize Hades and Persephone without any thought on what The Hymn to Demeter was actually about.

While I actually do think about Dionysus and Ariadne a fair bit as a rather romantic story for the Greeks. Of course, many versions of the orders of events, as is natural for such a long spanning mythic story.

But the idea that after Ariadne throws her whole life as a Princess away to guide Theseus through the labyrinth, saving all future sacrifices and allowing the death of her monster half brother, he abandons her on an island to die and Dionysus stumbles on her.

They fall in love, enough so that she ascends to Godhood with him. Enough so that in stories where she dies a mortal death he goes into the afterlife and pulls her back to him. Enough so there are versions where they raise their children on their vineyards. Enough so that every archaeological finding of them, from vases to funeral beds- when they aren’t in their separate stories- is them dining and drinking together and partying happily. Ariadne lost everything and then gained reverly and a full life afterwards.

#now there is a version where dionysus convinces Theseus to leave her so he can swoop in but that isnt in any way definitive #idk like she married a Party God who surely fucks around and she seems rather content in any post marriage depiction #greek mythology #dionysus #theres different depictions of dionysus as he bordered this line between a demigod and a god and then seems to become a god #and so its fun to me like oh he has lost and mourned like a mortal but also he can keep his wife and just enjoy being a drunken theater goer

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nyxvamps · 4 months

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Dionysus Cabin

(this is ignoring what’s mentioned in the books bc i can’t remember if anything was mentioned)

you know how in vineyards there are these buildings that are made of stone and have vines growing all over the walls? and are usually smaller buildings with the red tile roofs? yeah, that’s how the cabin looks likes. and also like a vineyard, most of the building is underground.

the only things in the main room upstairs is a living room, a spare bedroom, and a bathroom.

downstairs (like wine cellars) is where all the bedrooms, another bathroom, and a kitchen is. there’s a store room that does house alcohol but it’s charmed so no one under legal age (and dionysus) can drink anything.

there’s a small library that’s full of favorite books from past siblings and dionysus himself. there’s also manuscripts of favorite plays and musicals and other things that they might want future family to remember.

because there are very little of them, everyone gets there own room and everyone kind of has their own space to escape to within the cabin. maybe it’s that one chair in the library. maybe it’s the old beanbag that’s in the kitchen for some reason. or it’s the main living room upstairs.

this cabin usually has some of the closest familial bonds within camp. there’s so few of them and since they also have their dad right there, it’s easy to connect with each other. (ignoring that technically, Dionysus shouldn’t have direct contact with his children bc of zeus being a big ol meany, let’s say he does anyway bc it’s an easy fuck you to his dad)

the color scheme of most of the interior is usually muted purples and reds. there is a lot of greys and greens. a lot of comfy pillows and cushions and blankets are always within reach.

there is a room specifically used for karaoke and dramatic performances of musical numbers and scenes from plays/musicals/movies/books/etc. god of theatre, guys.

just, usually there is a lot of fun and love within this cabin. that’s it.

#pjo #pjo headcanons #pjo au #pjo headcanon #godly parents #percy jackson #dionysus headcanons #pjo dionysus #dionysus cabin

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sleepnowmychild · 1 month

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Ohhh, fellow hypnos lover, feel free to use this ask as a hypnos infodump if you'd like ! I love talking about the gods and if you have any worship/ tips about him if you wouldnt mind sharing id be very greatfull !

Bless

-valerie

HELLO FELLOW HYPNOSER!!!

Time for tips and info dump ramblings bc I’ll absolutely take the chance.

Tbh he’s kind of the only one I’m a full blown devotee too, I’ve always been weirdly into the entire concept and idea of sleep as a whole (autism moment??? My own history of sleep issues??? Unclear) but I do still respect and honour all the others. And admittedly I have a bit of an intrigue about the whole Zagreus Dionysus connection and it’s history. I grew up on a vineyard so maybe the whole grapes and wine of Dionysus gives me nostalgia haha.

I’m a bit of a lazy worshiper because memory issues be issuing, but my entire night routine is built around good sleep and devotion. I know it’s a common Hypnos tip but good sleep schedules is a top notch way to worship. I also keep a lot of the devotional or personally meaningful things I have on or around my bed. My bed has kind of become like a second altar in a way, a sacred space. My childhood toys, bedding I bought specifically because it reminded me of Hypnos etc. it’s basically an altar you can sleep in lol.

I could ramble for a million years but funny enough, I should go to bed rn.

Get some sleep and sweet dreams fellow Hypnosers.

#hypnos god #hypnos devotee #hypnos deity #greek mythology #hellenic deities #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheism #hellenic worship #hellenism #cthonic gods

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orion-and-the-grapevine · 9 months

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O Dionysus;

Lampter, Euios, Gethosynos

Show me what it means to cast puppet shadows

Your light flashing with drumming heart

And sparkling with laughter

May none who hear it know if the laugh

Comes from my mouth or yours.

O Dionysus;

Boukeros, Manikos, Mainomenos

Gore me with your horns

Let my flesh and blood spill as wine

Feeding your vineyards

So that any foe who feasts upon me

Tastes the serpentine venom

But those in need

Taste ambrosia.

O Dionysus;

Meilichios, Phleon, Lyseus

And once I have bled

Fill me with nectar

and gild the threads that sew me shut

Let the echoes of the songs sung

Ease me to sweet sleep

Until the dawn's golden rays fill my lungs

And I walk without a chain to bind me.

#dionysus worship #dionysus deity #dionysus #dionysos #dionysian #hellenic polythiest #helpol #greek gods #hellenic pagan #paganism #pagan #words from the grapevine

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kendsleyauthor · 7 months

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🌊 Solitude + Discover + Quiver 🌊

Promptober 2023

Demigod Universe (Andreas and Dion)

~1500 words

A prequel to The Vineyard! Here is the exact moment that Dion realizes that his mysterious ex-lover, Andreas, is more than just a pretty face 😉

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Dion hadn’t worked in nearly two weeks. His fellow artists and craftspeople were growing more concerned by the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to the workshop. Couldn’t bring himself to face the inevitable questions of “Where is that handsome model that was tailing after you? What was his name? Andreas?”

With how swiftly Dion was falling behind on his tasks, he was lucky that his last few commissions had paid well. Anytime he sat at his home workbench with the intent of carving an amulet stone, his fingers wouldn’t respond. His mind would drift.

How could Andreas leave so abruptly? So coldly? Why wouldn’t he share what was sending him away?

Worry crowded Dion’s mind day and night. But his fretting was beginning to morph into bitterness. Perhaps Andreas had simply grown bored of him.

He wandered daily. He was pitied at home, and he would be pitied in the workshops, so he secluded himself in the areas that he and Andreas used to escape to. Empty temples and rocky shorelines, mostly. Andreas seemed to favor the Dionysus temple near the beach at the edge of the island.

“Of course it’s my favorite,” Andreas had said. “A temple honoring your namesake? How can I resist?”

That painfully charming smile and voice haunted him like infection in an open wound. He eyed the temple glumly. Although they had never done anything illicit in the temple itself, Dion had still worried they were being disrespectful, stealing away behind it.

“The god of wine and debauchery, offended?” Andreas scoffed. “Don’t you know anything?”

The temple sat lonely this evening. Visitors left offerings during the daytime—he caught glimpses of ripe grapes and bottles of wine. Dion wondered if his namesake ever got sick of being offered the same gifts. There was no one at his side to muse the idea with. Andreas probably would have laughed at the question.

Unable to look at the pillared structure for long, Dion ambled further and made his way along the shore. The waves roared, rushing in and out with more fervor than usual. The din wouldn’t silence his wounded thoughts.

He was being foolish, and he knew it. After all, it made sense that Andreas would leave his life as abruptly as he entered it. Someone as arrogant as him probably couldn’t stand to have only one admirer. He must have seen that Dion was getting too attached.

No matter how he tried to rationalize it, Andreas’ departure stung.

The island had weathered a storm just the other night. Clouds still gathered thickly over the beach, but the worst of it seemed to have passed. Drawing a deep breath, Dion tried to take the weather as a sign: the storm was over, and it was time to move on.

And yet, he swore every time he turned around that he would find Andreas watching him.

The water lapped aggressively at his heels. Perhaps remnants of the storm were still churning the ocean further away, creating an angry high tide. Lightning flashed in the distance, red in the dying light of the day. Too distant to worry about—yet.

A sound came from behind.

A wet dragging sound.

Dion froze and peeked over his shoulder. A choked noise caught in his throat as he staggered all the way around to face the source of the sound.

He couldn’t comprehend exactly what he was seeing.

A grotesque creature was pulling itself from the waves—nearly twice his size. Its upper body was the bluish-green hue of a waterlogged man, but the bottom half seemed to shift between different forms, like it couldn’t decide whether to have the scales of a fish or sleek fur of a seal.

Finally, it consolidated its form into fully humanoid to stand on the shore.

“Gods…” Dion swore, blood draining from his face.

There were more creatures, at least half a dozen, dragging themselves up to stand and locking eyes on him. He shuffled back as they spoke to each other in a strange language he couldn’t comprehend. But as they advanced, their intention was clear: they wanted him.

Telkhines. Shapeshifting creatures from the sea. He had never heard of these creatures on his island before, and he had little clue what he had done to invoke their ire.

He turned on his heel and started running clumsily on the wet sand.

He didn’t make it far before one of the telkhines seized him. Webbed hands locked around his arms, amphibious skin slick but brutal. At once, he fell face fist in the sand. Even one of the towering creatures could overpower him, but before long, three of them were dragging him into the water.

“H-help!” His voice was raw as he coughed on sea water. He let out a guttural scream, but no one was around.

The world shook. It might have been the storm, miraculously approaching from a distance.

Water churned violently around him as the telkhines were torn away. Heaving, Dion scrambled in the rocky water. His eyes stung with salt as he struggled to make sense of the massive new addition to his surroundings.

High overhead, there was a shadow. He suddenly felt so foolish thinking the telkhines were huge. This new figure was perfectly humanoid in shape. Except it must have towered nearly as a high as the temple.

A fresh wave of fear gripped Dion. He clawed his way behind one of the rocks, gasping and coughing.

When he’d screamed for help, he certainly hadn’t expected a giant to answer the call.

It had to be a god or demigod. Perhaps he’d gotten caught in the middle of some altercation. He couldn’t imagine that the giant was intervening with the intent to save him. He peeked out in time to see a pair of monstrously tremendous hands rip apart one of the telkhines. Rather than gore, the unfortunate creature’s corpse rained down as seafoam.

The other monsters fled, diving into the water and rushing straight past Dion without taking notice of him. He ducked anyway, quivering in his hiding place. His fingers dug painfully into the rock as he fought to keep himself grounded against the vicious current.

Other than the lapping water, there was silence.

Leave, Dion willed the giant. Leave me alone.

There was no movement.

Gods and demigods had the ability to vanish into thin air, he had heard. Perhaps the giant had already left. Trembling and breathing shallowly, Dion peeked around the rock. His heart dropped when he saw the giant knelt directly on the other side, leaning closer as though to take a curious look at the cowering mortal.

The giant flinched, apparently just as startled. His eyes were a rich, maddening shade of purple. His skin was sun-bronzed and smooth. His full lips parted with a small intake of air as they regarded each other.

And Dion knew he had gone absolutely crazy, because the giant looked like Andreas.

The giant was Andreas.

For a second, they merely gaped. Then Andreas broke into a familiar, charming smile. His chuckle made Dion shrink away. The smile became tense, uncertain.

“I thought that might be you,” Andreas said, his voice achingly familiar but terrifyingly big.

Dion didn’t answer, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“Alright, I knew it was you,” Andreas admitted.

The water shifted. One of the monstrous hands that had ripped apart the telkhine was fast approaching, filling Dion’s vision.

With what little air he had, Dion released a choked scream and lunged backward. His footing scrambled for purchase on the sharp rocks of the sea floor. He didn’t care if the current pulled him straight into the jaws of Charybdis. He could not allow that hand to touch him.

But true to himself as ever, Andreas got what he wanted.

“Come now, you’d rather drown than see me? That’s rude of you.” Andreas pushed forward, blocking Dion’s escape and locking his fingers around his waist.

“Let go,” Dion croaked out as he was lifted from the water. He squirmed, inspiring Andreas to grip him tighter. His vision swam as his senses were overwhelmed. He fought the urge to black out—vulnerable as he was now, he couldn’t afford to be unconscious around this monster. “Let go!”

“I’d rather not,” Andreas said as he rose to his full height.

Gods, Dion was so far off the ground.

Tearing his eyes away from the deadly fall, he made the mistake of meeting Andreas’ gaze. Even when held at chest level with the giant, Dion had to crane his neck. A frown creased Andreas’ brow as he regarded him. His eyes drifted away to the distance, then lit up as if he had a brilliant idea.

“The temple,” he said in that excited way of his when his words couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. “We’ll go to the temple. It’s a much more pleasant place to talk, I can assure you.”

Dion didn’t have the energy to protest—not that he would have been listened to, anyway. He faded in and out of consciousness as he was whisked away from the beach and carried high above the scraggly field that led up to the temple.

He gave up on fighting and buried his face in his hands, severely regretting the day he had laid eyes on Andreas.

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dioniso-y-cernunnos · 1 year

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A hymn to Dionysus and his beloved satyr Ampelus

We sing of Dionysus, the god of wine and fertility, and his beloved companion, the satyr Ampelus. Together, they roam the vineyards, hand in hand, their love as wild and untamed as the grapes that grow upon the vines.

Dionysus, the lord of madness and inspiration, with his flowing locks and ivy crown, brings life to the land with his powers of fertility. He dances and sings, his laughter ringing through the vineyards, as he blesses the grapes with his divinity.

Ampelus, the satyr of the vineyards, with his horns and goat-like legs, is the embodiment of nature's beauty. He tends to the grapes with gentle care, his touch bringing them to ripeness and fullness. He is the companion of Dionysus, the one who shares in his joys and sorrows, the one who loves him with all his heart.

Together, they make the wine that brings pleasure and joy to all who partake of it. Their love is the source of the wine's magic, the secret that makes it more than just fermented grapes. As they dance and sing, the wine flows freely, and all who drink it are filled with the love and wildness that Dionysus and Ampelus embody.

We honor these lovers of the vineyards, Dionysus and Ampelus, and we call upon them to bless our own love and our own joys. May their love inspire us, and may their wine bring us pleasure and happiness.

#paganismo #paganism #wicca #witchblr #dionisio #jacked #testosterone #male #ampelus #gay #gaymen #hellenism #dionysos #Dionysus #dioniso

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sunshineboiapollo · 2 months

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You said we killed the Gods, that they are dead, but I disagree.

I see them in everything. I feel them around me.

I know Hestia, the first and the last.

I feel Hera in family and Zeus in the storm. I see Posieodon in the seas and the calm waters or running creeks.

I know Hermes is there on the road less traveled or the one we take, the one we know by heart. He's in the goods we purchase for fun or the ones we need to live and stay warm. He's in the dice we roll at the table, the children that play and giggle with laughter.

I see Hephestus in the athimes that lay on our altars. The armor we wear, though symbolic in nature. I see Demeter in the harvest and Persephone in the changing of seasons. I feel Hades in the cemetery where we go to rest and Thanatos in the funeral homes where we honor the dead.

I know Hecate watches over us when we struggle at the crossroads and Nyx in her gentle night holds us while we sleep.

Aphrodite in love that we want to give, in the roses with thorns, in their beauty can hurt. I feel her sting when I get too close, knowing there there. I see Ares in war, all fighting affairs.

I hear Orpheus in poems, in promises made and broken.

I feel Dionysus in the frenzied crowds, singing and cheering in the heat of the moment. I feel him in the exhaustion after a long night out, and in the relief of coming home to rest. I taste him in the wine, feel him in the steady buzz of it working its way through the body. I see him in the vineyards, the ivy that grows along the paths less traveled, overgrown through time. I feel him in madness, in deep contemplation, of life and of death, in blood and rebirth. I feel him in dark times when all feels lost.

I feel Achilles poised with his spear, ready to fight knowing death is near. I see him in rage - in my heart he is dear. I feel him in my emotions, my mourning and passion.

I see Apollo in the Hawks and crows that circle the skies. Feel him in the warmth of the sun. I see him in the healing hands of the herbalists who make our teas and mend our wounds. I see him in the cards pulled one by one, the pause of thought before interpreting their meaning. I smell him I the insence burned in his honor, in the olive oil poured and the bay leaf burned at his altar. I see him in the ruins of the desecrated temples abandoned long ago, lost in time but not forgotten. I hear his wisdom in the art of silence, words unspoken but perfectly understood. In the moment of silence as an archer takes aim of his arrow and the continued silence to watch it hit its mark. I feel him in the rythmic beats of the stereo, in the pounding drums at a concert loud and clear. I feel it in the aftermath when ears are shot, and nothing seems to make it past the awful ringing from loud guitar screams. I see him in the lines before the show, in people gathering and sharing stories, and I see him in the garden with blue and purple hyacinths blanketing the ground, their scent wafting upwards.

I see Hestia in the fires that cook our food. To her, we give thanks, the first and the last.

We might have forgotten the Gods but they are not dead to those who know how to look.

They've answered my prayers and left me signs. Guided me here and gave me a home. Shown me friends and family and given me a teacher who listens and loves. Makes me feel seen and heard, not small, and ignored.

The Gods are not dead. We just forgot how to find them.

#i know ive got spelling errors #i wasnt going to post this but i feel like i should #apollo #deities #dionysus #apollo deity #offering

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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Sacrifice

I realized that while I have “Gods” in my Fandom List, I never really write about them lol. Here’s a little idea, enjoy! :D

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Dionysus x GN!Darling!Reader (However, I did decide on calling them Priestess in this work, though nothing else as indication) Warnings: Yandere, Slight sexual innuendos, Threats, Mention of Death (by accident), Forced Relationship, Power Imbalance

Prompt: Coercion - Subtle application of threat, the brute force of physicality, or could it be someone’s will itself working into their brain? @sintember

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Having a god's favor was always fun—sometimes for the person in favor, sometimes for the god.

There was no denying how valuable you were to your small village now that Dionysus had taken a liking to you. You had always loved going with your family to the small shrine your village built for him to ask for blessings for their vineyards and orchards. Though your community wasn't the most prestigious, you had never wanted to leave it. You loved everything about the family business, the wine-making, and growing up there, you couldn't imagine doing anything else for the rest of your life.

That was until the priestesses showed up unannounced on one foggy morning. It was supposed to be a beautiful day. But when they revealed who they were and why they had come, you were plagued by anxiety as you stood silently next to your mother, who tried her best to encourage you regardless of her own sorrow.

You were chosen.

For better or for worse.

The priestesses—women so much more beautiful than all the girls in the village—announced that there had been a divine prophecy, and you were the pinnacle of it. Never in a million years could you have imagined that a god would call upon you, plain and simple as you were. And you had to admit that sometimes, you thought the gods to be a sham. Just something to put blame and thankfulness onto in given times. But things progressed fast from that moment on.

There was barely enough time to pack a bag of your things. Even when the priestesses assured you, you wouldn't need anything where you were going, you and your mother insisted. And despite your mother's tears, she helped you pack, adding two bottles of wine and a blanket she knitted to your travel weight before releasing you to the noble women that ushered you away hurriedly, on a boat and across the ocean until your feet hit the dirt before Mount Olympus.

Now, you wanted to say something throughout the whole journey. Learn about the where and how and when of this special mission. But no one, not even the grim-looking sailors maneuvering the ship, gave you any information to cling to. You had no idea why it was such a taboo to talk about what was going on. However, it didn't help to soothe your anxiety about the unknown, the fear of what was possibly waiting for you. At your last chance, the foot of Mount Olympus, you turned around once again to ask why you should do the challenging work of climbing this mountain after all this secrecy.

But before you could speak, grapevines shot out of the ground and enveloped you, stealing the sunlight from your sight, and then, you were gone.

Gone for what felt like a long night of dreamless sleep and gone from the Greece you knew. The Greece that laid beneath the clouds surrounding the top of Mount Olympus, or well, in the other dimension different from the one the gods resided in. The one time Dionysus let you gaze at the picturesque life below, you almost fell out of bounds and got softly scolded for almost 'escaping'. Or dying. Pretty sure you'd have died if he hadn't caught you.

Truth be told, you found adjusting… difficult. You learned fairly quickly that the Dionysus, the same god you used to pray to with your family, had picked you as his personal priestess the moment you came of age for reasons you didn't quite understand. He liked to talk in roundabout ways, telling you of your beauty and devotion to him, how he watched you mature from a cute apprentice to a loveable devotee to the thing you both loved most: wine. So much hard work and passion had to be rewarded, and making you a personal priestess to him was the highest position he had to offer.

Your duties, however, were questionable. If not on his lap, you were to always sit close to him, one arm lazily swung around your body while you held his enormous goblet with both hands, always ready for him to drink from. At night you were to stay close, attend to him while drunk and sober. In reality, it was more like being a glorified slave rather than a priestess from what you knew from your home.

There were more like you. Priests, priestesses, young, old, cheerful, somber. They all attended different gods, and though you shared a bond of similarity, you never got to hang out on your own or enjoy the other humans' company. It was strange and different from how you had expected your life to go. You understood your responsibility and the honor given to you, but at the same time, you had only one wish: to go home.

The two bottles of wine you brought barely filled his goblet that night you sat him down. A real challenge since Dionysus was such a busybody, and once he did relax, you never caught him in private, only ever mingling with others. So when you finally had the courage to ask him for privacy, you were surprised at how quickly he agreed. You filled his goblet with your gifts, and he was overjoyed as he watched you pour the dark liquid. Delighted, he drank from it, sighing in pleasure as he pulled the golden goblet from his lips before offering it to you.

Dionysus leaned in close, not taking 'no' when it came to drinking with him. He always shared his drinks with you, one sip for him and one for you. Lifting the oversized goblet from his to your lips, he watched as you swallowed the strong liquid sliding down your throat, licking his own lips as he could see your gaze growing hazy from the alcohol. "Now tell me, Grape, what's on your mind?"

Pulling you on top of his lap, you allowed him to press you against his chest, combing through your hair affectionately. His little, perfect priestess. The gods' appearances were much taller than the humans that trotted after them, with a strength you couldn't match no matter your body build. In a way, it made you feel like the lapdog of a noble, which in and of itself wasn't the wrong impression. But you tried not to mind it. You were his priestess, after all, and as your god, you assumed he had those rights to order and move you around as he pleased.

"I miss home," you confided, the alcohol loosening your tongue. You lowered your gaze at the gold chains adorning his neck, your fingers falling to them, twirling them around. His muscles tensed in clear sight as you voiced your thoughts, but you had no idea why. It felt right to talk to him about this. To reciprocate the trust he put in you by confiding all his - sometimes drunken - thoughts to you. And who, if not your god, was going to hear you out?

"Darling," he purred, and you looked up at him before he had to raise his hand beneath your chin, well-trained as you were. After months by his side, the time passing irregularly, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, you knew what the tone of his voice meant or him calling you certain names.

"Have I not told you this is your home now?"

This time it was you who tensed at his question. Biting your lip, you nodded. "Yes, you did… But I can't help it."

Avoiding your gaze was the wrong move, but it was hard to look into his endless, dark purple eyes, the color swirling about like wine poured into a glass. Resting his arm over his legs and around you, Dionysus leaned back, clearly displeased by his priestess' longing. You were just about to take it back to not displease him when he spoke up before you could.

"Do you remember when I showed you your village down below?" he asked, and you furrowed your brows but nodded. How could you forget the one time you almost fell out of Olympus?

"Was it not lush and green? The vines full of grapes and the trees bowing under the weight of their fruit?"

"Yes," you nodded, remembering seeing everyone in the village working hard to harvest everything with big smiles on their faces. "Yes, it was."

"What do you think will happen if I have to return you to them? I'd be heartbroken to miss you by my side."

For a moment, you felt your expression grow confused as you thought about his words, the connection between him and your village. There was a hint of knowing somewhere shrieking in the back of your mind, but you were in too much disbelief that you could have such tremendous effects on everything to take it seriously. "I… I don't know?" you muttered, laying your head to the side questioningly as you looked at your god.

Dionysus had a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watched you wrap your pretty head around his words, his fingertips finding your body and drawing shapes over your skin. Possessively. Knowing he won a war before it even started. "I do so love to spoil my devotees, my precious grape. But only as long as they please me in return. And that's something only you can do. Without you… I don't know if I had the strength to keep those vineyards rich with grapes and those trees so full of fruits. I'd hate to cause a drought because I am unable to support your village."

Now, it was your turn to gulp.

Of course, something had to go wrong. Your gut feeling from the very beginning had been right as you realized you were trapped. Trapped between your want and your responsibility. Not to your god, but to everyone you loved and cared for. The parents who raised you, the village that taught and supported your passion. Who now prospered because of your… sacrifice?

That's what you were, right? Not a priestess or slave, but a sacrifice to a god whose immortal life demanded temporary partners that suited him.

When Dionysus placed a kiss on top of your head, wandering lower to your neck and shoulder, playing with the strap of your garment, you knew you were correct with your assumption. You wished to defy him, to leave and return to your old life, but you couldn't. Not at the cost of the others, people you loved and who depended on you to play nice with the god that made their life so much easier and prosperous just because he had what he wanted. You shuddered as Dionysus forced you to lean back into his hand, revealing your collarbones to him, his lips dancing over your chest with a grin.

And now that he had you in privacy on your wish, all he wanted was you.

His sacrifice.

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gravevisited · 24 days

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🍇 Dio(nysus) 🍇

DESCRIPTION

HEIGHT 5’10” normally but can be adjusted at will BODY TYPE svelte, swimmer’s build SEX yes (male but can change this at will) EYES wine-dark…as in a literal merlot color HAIR can be changed at a whim but he’s been rocking the silver fox look

NAME dionysus ALIAS dio theoinos, dio, d, uncle d, etc. AGE ageless and immortal, youngest of the olympians ORIENTATION a bisexual disaster PRONOUNS he/him, but often changes them along with his look, depending on the life he’s leading NATIONALITY greek (?), olympian SPECIES olympian (?), god PROFESSION professional entertainer, ranging from director or actor to small business ownership (vineyards, clubs, or similar) STATUS widowed but prefers to say single MYERS-BRIGGS enfp-t FACECLAIM usually alan cumming - though later i may offer dio’s “other” lives :3c

CHARACTER OVERVIEW

His name is Dionysus. Liber, Bromius, Bacchus too, yes, but always Dionysus first and foremost. God of wine, fertility, excess, ecstasy, theatre, release, rebirth, madness, and the wild joys of total liberation. The original uninhibited god, born of mortal Semele and immortal Zeus, twice-born and full of mirth. The dithyramb is beat in his honor; maneads and bacchants dance in the wild wood for his pleasure. Such is the glory of great Dionysus, madcap lord of the midnight revels.

Well. Such was the glory of Dionysus, lord of the torches. It’s Dio nowdays. Dio Theoinos among the mortal crowds, hot-shot producer/director and King of the Great White Way. (Dɪᴏɴysᴜs is awfully stiff and old-timey, don’t you think? Something a little catchier was in order for the new age.) Unseated from Olympus like the rest of his family when new deities came into power, he’s done pretty well for himself since; he has a handful of accidental cults, a few modern maneads, small businesses in popular cities and the like—nothing spectacular, but certainly enough to get by on. A bit of prayer here and there, a few starving artists looking for a bit of luck, and bam!, he’s back in business. Maybe not running at full capacity, but not exactly putzing around on empty.

Dio is about what you’d expect of him; formerly a blinding force of joy and freedom, he still upholds the right to artistic expression and creativity…it just comes a little more tempered at his advanced age and decreased popularity. He is often surly and unamused, feeling usurped, and while quick to offense, he is equally quick to forgive. Dionysus is a fickle god at best. He loves humanity better than much of his family, but he still views mortals as weak and disposable. Sassy, snarky, witty, and sharp-tongued, Dio spends much of his time among the mortal rabble, and has picked up a few of their habits; but being immortal, he tries not to get too attached.

PERSONAL HISTORY

Available upon request but it is a lot.

Formerly found at @winewomenwit .

#the laughing god

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thedansemacabres · 2 months

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A Modern Harvested Look Into Dionysos Nykletios

[ID: A mostly green image with a large, vibrant grape left to the left and blurry brown grape trunk in the background to the off-centre. Next to it is a large, close up image of an unripened verdant grape cluster.]

LITTLE DO MOST PEOPLE KNOW THAT MUCH OF THE MODERN GRAPE HARVEST HAPPENS AT NIGHT, as dedicated winemakers wish to ensure the consistency of their crop—lord Helios’ rays are what ripen the fruit, at the mercy of Dionysus’ influence. Other times harvest does during cool days, but the harvesters are still pressed to ensure the safety of the harvest—hot fruit spells problems for the winemakers, and winemakers are what buy the crop to ferment. And when I was there on the cool afternoon, Helio’s light fading from the horizon, I felt Dionysos there with the whisper of Nyktelios.

THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT

Nykletios (Νυκτελιος “of the night”) is an epithet only directly mentioned perhaps once, kin to Hestios; as such it may be hard to get a direct usage on the meaning of this epithet. Pausanias states:

Pausanias, Description of Greece 1. 40. 6 (trans. Jones) (Greek travelogue C2nd A.D.) : "After the precinct of Zeus [in Megara] . . . you see a temple of Dionysus Nyktelios (Nocturnal), a sanctuary built to Aphrodite Epistrophia (She who turns men to love), an oracle called that of Nyx (Night)."

Riding the Phallus for Dionysus suggests that this epithet may be connected to a larger mystery cult, that of a veiled Dionysus, with rites perhaps similar to the one Plutarch mentioned. Several of Dionysos’ rites occur within darkness—within Agros, his rites were nocturnal, invoking the terror and awe of Nyx’s darkness. His other mysteries likely involved the night as well.

Night is also invoked several times with Dionysos, such as in the Bacchae. One example I associate with Nykletios are these lines from Dionysos and Pentheus:

ΠΕΝΘΕΥΣ τὰ δ ̓ ἱερὰ νύκτωρ ἢ μεθ ̓ ἡμέραν τελεῖς; ΔΙΟΝΥΣΟΣ νύκτωρ τὰ πολλά· σεμνότητ ̓ ἔχει σκότος. Pentheus When you dance these rites, is it at night or during daylight? Dionysus Mainly at night. Shadows confer solemnity.

Even as these rites are no longer practiced, it is almost fitting that modern harvests mostly occur at night—and winemaking during harvest season can easily draw into the dark nights as well, as we work on the grape and yeast’s schedules, not our own.

A MODERN TAKE ON DIONYSUS NYKLETIOS

As epithets can have multiple functions, I place Dionysos Nykletios in both the night harvests of vines, comforting frozen hands as we harvest fruit for the best vintage, along with his endemic nocturnal rites. The modern wine world is both alike and like the ancient one—the wine season is still within winter, with the worst moments for a winemaker being the time before Christmas until next March when the wines are finishing.

If there was a day a hellenic pagan vineyard would exist, I would imagine that a procession would be in store for a religious harvest—though, there would not be any free juices allowed to paint the skin red. When you harvest grapes for wine, you do not want to burst the berries, and I could imagine Dionysos’ laugh when it eventually occurs.

Dionysus Nykletios, May your hands warm us Under eternally Dark Nyx As the vintage is pressed And made into your Fine wine.

References

Csapo, É. (1997). Riding the Phallus for Dionysus: Iconology, Ritual, and Gender-Role De/Construction. Phoenix (Toronto), 51(3/4), 253. https://doi.org/10.2307/1192539

Gilbert Murray, & Ian Johnston. (2015). Euripides Bacchae: A Dual Language Edition. Faenum Publishing Oxford, Ohio.

#dragonis.txt #paganism #witchcraft #pagan #hellenic polytheism #helpol #witchblr #dionysus devotee #dionysos deity #dionysus deity #dionysus worship #hellenic polytheist #hellenic pagan #paganblr #pagans of tumblr #deity worship #vīnum

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castlesrp · 2 months

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The Anderson Family

Dionysus : Vineyard Distillery Dynasty

The legacy of the Anderson family begins on the West Coast, beginning three generations ago with a dream of a vineyard that ended up scaling to a global enterprise that left the Anderson Distilleries as one of the leading wine and alcohol distilleries in North America. First Anderson (83) has since retired as president, handing over the reigns to his eldest and enjoying his golden years with his wife First Anderson (84). First Anderson (58) has taken over the family mantle, taking a very hands-on approach to try and prove himself, all the while grappling with the difficulty of spending his time split between California and New York City. First Anderson (58) has kept herself busy and avoided empty nest syndrome as their six children have moved out, volunteering her time as the President of the New York City Junior League.

First Holloway (55) has always been a bit of a wildfire radical in the family, which was why her father made her the Head of Brand Development and Innovation before his retirement. In this new role, she has worked to elevate the brand of Anderson Distilleries to new heights, including branching out into the new territory of legalized marijuana and partnering with First Holloway (54)’s chain of dispensary stores that have opened since legalization and the aid of First Lancaster (59) as legal counsel; this was met with distrust on both sides, as the Lancaster and Anderson families have had generations of rivalry with one another. They have four children, three of which are adopted, and have always kept an open door policy for their kids and any of their kid’s friends - if they’re going to drink, she’d rather they do it in the house.

A bit more gruff and pulled together than the rest of his siblings, First Anderson (52) has also branched the Anderson name into another venture as the owner and operator of Anderson Brewery in SoHo, happily married to First Anderson (52) with two children of their own. First Gallagher (50) may be the youngest, but she’s quite successful in her own right as the Director of International Expansion for Anderson Distilleries. Very business-focused and ambitious, she and First Gallagher (50) have their perfect nuclear family with one son and one daughter - painting the picture of the idyllic American Dream. Whether or not that's truly the case behind closed doors is another story.

First Anderson: 83 Years Old, Retired President of Anderson Distilleries, Steve Martin, Available + First Anderson: 84 Year Old, Open Occupation, Diane Keaton, Available

First Anderson: 58 Years Old, President of Anderson Distilleries, Ewan McGregor, Available + First Anderson: 58 Years Old, Junior League President, Gillian Anderson, Available ----- First Anderson: 31 Years Old, Open Occupation, Austin Butler, Available ----- First Anderson: 29 Years Old, Open Occupation, Tom Blyth, Available ----- First Anderson: 27 Years Old, Open Occupation, Harry Styles, Available ----- First Anderson: 23 Years Old, Open Occupation, Anya Taylor Joy, Available ----- First Anderson: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Kit Connor 1, Available * ----- First Anderson: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Kit Connor 2, Available * * Note: Anderson (21) and Anderson (21) are identical twins.

First Holloway: 55 Years Old, Head of Brand Development and Innovation of Anderson Distilleries, Kathryn Hahn, Available + First Holloway: 54 Years Old, Dispensary CEO, Jason Sudeikis, Available ----- First Holloway: 30 Years Old, Open Occupation, Simu Liu, Available * ----- First Holloway: 27 Years Old, Open Occupation, Tom Holland, Available ----- First Holloway: 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Lana Condor, Available * ----- First Holloway: 24 Years Old, Open Occupation, Hailee Steinfeld, Available * * Note: Holloway (30), Holloway (25), and Holloway (24) are adopted

First Anderson: 52 Years Old, Owner and Head Brewer of Anderson Brewery, David Harbour, Available + First Anderson: 52 Years Old, Open Occupation, Christina Hendricks, Available ----- First Anderson: 26 Years Old, Open Occupation, Wolfgang Novogratz, Available ----- First Anderson: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Sadie Sink, Available

First Gallagher: 50 Years Old, Director of International Expansion of Anderson Brewery, Rosamund Pike, Available + First Gallagher: 50 Years Old, Open Occupation, John Krasinski, Available ----- First Gallagher: 28 Years Old, Open Occupation, Thomas Doherty, Available ----- First Gallagher: 26 Years Old, Open Occupation, Lili Reinhart, Available

#roleplay #jcink #bio rp #skeleton rp #jcink rp #canons

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