#vs the stuff that’s just me vibe-checking Dionysos

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

hello hello beautiful people of the internet, i’m feeling Some Sort of Way tonight and would like to wax poetic about my views on Dionysos’ appearance:

i think of Him only as a Him because it subverts the image of the god i used to worship. gone is the He/Him who thinks of me as a disgrace, as something to be changed, as something to be hated. in its stead is the He/Him who takes my hands and truly claims me as His own, just as i am.

also He’s a He/Him as in He has top surgery and phalloplasty scars in gold, and a He/Him like a butch lesbian in the 1950s using those pronouns so His femme wife Ariadne can have a semblance of a “normal” life, and a He/Him like some super feminine gay guy, and a He/Him like you’d call a particularly friendly cow/cat/snake/other wild creature.

He’s got long, dark hair that falls down His back, and always seems to have just come undone. His skin is dark, and seems to change colors as though He were perpetually sitting under a sunlit tree - lighter to darker, darker to lighter. He smells of frankincense, but somehow it’s not the kind you get in churches. His body is soft, and seems to pose no threat - appearances are nothing when you have power. He is painted with red paints depicting fearsome animals, but also vineyard scenes.

Dionysos is constantly wearing crowns of something. He’s wearing crowns of ivy, or of vibrant flowers and foliage that Ariadne makes for Him. two bull horns sprout from His head; they are decked out in brilliant golden rings and chains - there is irony in this, and He knows it.

He wears clothing (sometimes), but what that clothing is is never certain. it is soft and warm, but smooth and cool at the same time. it is something that is fitting of a King, but can be worn to run wild in the woods. usually it’s a dress, sometimes it’s simply a fawnskin draped over His shoulders.

His voice is something loud and chaotic, but only a few are blessed enough to ever truly hear it. it strikes fear into the heart, but is followed by intense peace. He never speaks alone - the retinue that follows Him does plenty of speaking as well.

And, finally, He brings with Him a beautiful joy. it’s a joy that is felt in a gently weighted hand while praying, it’s that joy that comes from fruits given by strangers, it’s that first rush of tipsiness in a bottle of wine, it’s the feeling of wildflowers and grasses brushing against your ankles, it’s the first breath of warm air in the spring and the first breath of cool air in the fall. sunny days and starry nights are celebrated equally joyfully under Him, and He holds His followers through every day.