#Odysseus: he can handle it he’s from sparta

[iwritelmao]

Shovel Talk?

(there’s one suitor left in the the palace, but he’s not there for the Queen of Ithaca)

Penelope had long since fallen asleep as Telemachus sat silently outside her door, not quite able to break the habit yet. Odysseus had crept out of the room as soon as his wife had fallen asleep despite his intense want to stay near her. Still, he had to make sure the palace had been cleansed of the suitors.

Suddenly he heard heavy breathing coming from Telemachus’s chambers. Telemachus’s chambers that were supposed to be empty. He tightly gripped his sword and threw the door open, watching as an unfamiliar young man stumbled back, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Are you a suitor?” Odysseus asked flatly, adjusting his hold on the sword.

“Yes,” the young man said. “But it’s not what you think, I’m not-”

“Stop.” He said. “What’s your name?”

The young man sputtered a bit before finally saying, “Nausicaas.”

“Nausicaas… you should have lied.”

“No…” Nausicaas took a few steps back as the king walked towards him with a raised sword. “No, it’s- it’s not what you think! I’m here for Telemachus!”

“You idiot…” Odysseus shook his head. “Did you see what happened to the rest of the suitors who tried to hurt my son?” He pressed the sword against the young man’s neck. “This is where it ends. With your death, my family is safe. Do you understand that?”

His eyes widened as he stared right into the king’s burning red eyes, alight. In what Nausicaas assumed would be his last moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and yelled, “Sir, I’m in love with your son!”

There was no pain, no sharpness of the blade, but the feeling of it against his neck didn’t leave. Nausicaas didn’t dare open his eyes.

“What?”

He opened one eye, catching sight of Odysseus’s confusion. “I am a suitor… for your son. I- I arrived here this morning to… to ask the Queen for her blessing to marry the prince… a-and now that you’re here I can, well… would it be okay if I proposed to your son?”

Odysseus stepped back, letting his sword fall to his side. He looked like he was sizing the young man up. “Where did you come from?”

“Sparta, sir. The Queen’s family in Sparta is close friends with my own.”

The king seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “You say you love my son?” Nausicaas nodded eagerly. It was almost endearing. “How much?”

The young man’s expression finally hardened into something a lot more Spartan than it had looked before. “I would end worlds for him, sir. I would renounce my name, my rank, my home—I would be of Ithaca only, Sparta be damned.” His eyes suddenly wandered to a spot over Odysseus’s shoulder, softening as a smile tugged his lips.

The king turned around to see his son in the doorway. “Telemachus.”

“Mother woke up,” he said, his voice distracted. “She had a fit when you weren’t next to her.”

Odysseus smiled, then turned back to look at Nausicaas. He held his arms out, warm and inviting, and enveloped the young man. “Thank you,” Nausicaas uttered, returning the hug as if it were a handshake, strong and unwavering.

“Be true.” Odysseus said, then lowered his voice. “And if you even think about hurting my family, I will dismember you and feed what’s left of you to what little sirens managed to escape my crew and I.” The boy tensed up in his arms and Odysseus smiled. “That is, if Penelope doesn’t get to you first.”

He felt the young man nod and let go, stepping back. The king stood in wait. Nausicaas’s lips formed a small “oh,” then walked past him to face Telemachus. “Telemachus, Prince of Ithaca…”

“Nausicaas,” the prince said, grabbing the young warrior’s hand and pulling him closer with a grin Odysseus recognized from his days trying his hardest to win Penelope’s attention. “Why so formal?”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Because this is important. I love you, Telemachus. I will always love you. If there is a life after this one, I will love you in that one too. Would you join me in declaring this love to the gods?"

Telemachus smiled and leaned forward to kiss Nausicass. "It only took you three years to ask."

"Is..." He said tentatively, "Is that a yes?"

Odysseus shook his head and made for the doorway, patting Nausicaas on the back before leaving. "Welcome to the family."

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Yea so Ody is finally home and he’s with his wife and son. It’s all cool and fun. But hold on. Can you imagine how HORRIFYING Odysseus and his family must be to other Royals now?

Here is a king that fought monsters, witches, slaughtered most of the male Nobles in his kingdom. FOUGHT POSEIDON AND MADE HIM BEG FOR MERCY!

And worst of all, he is crazy smart. So negotiating or trying to make deals with Odysseus must be the most horrifying thing in existence at the time. You can’t threaten him, you can’t negotiate a better position than him, you can only just sit there and smile as you pray you don’t accidentally offend him.

Oh and that’s not all, If Penelope also dislikes you, you’re f***ed. Because Odysseus fought a war for 10 years over an oath. Imagine what he would do if someone tried something with his wife… OH WAIT, we don’t have to. He SLAUGHTERED them! And she might not even need him to.

She is from Sparta and by Odysseus own words JUST AS SMART AS HIM. The main reason she didn’t go out and fight those nobles/kick them out is because of the laws of hospitality (which are enforced by Zeus). But with her god piercer husband, she doesn’t need to be so polite anymore. And she held the kingdom together for 20 years! She knows how to handle business. So yea, don’t mess with her either.

And his kid? He’s a warrior of the mind now! Who has the favor of ATHENA! WHO in a very short time learned how to fight. Going from losing a fist fight, to fighting dozens of men who only overwhelmed him because he got TIRED of kicking their asses! He has ATHENA on his side as his best friend. Dont even try

Point is The Ithaca royal family is a f***ing nightmare to deal with now.

[catcas22]

Maedros in Troy AU

Long, long post about my very niche obsession. Original AU by @sweetteaanddragons can be found here.

Every so often when I'm listening to EPIC, my mind will play six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon and I'll end up back at this AU. This particular addition was inspired by my remembering that Achilles was a redhead (Or maybe strawberry-blonde, idk enough about the Greek language to say for sure. His son was a redhead, and he once went by the alias of "the redheaded girl.")

The morning after the sack of Troy is a somber affair, even, surprisingly, amongst the victors. The surviving Achaean princes limp their way back to the feet of the horse, finally able to take a headcount. Odysseus and Ajax the Lesser are missing, Neoptolemus is nursing a nasty leg-wound, and less concerning but equally inconvenient, Menelaus and Helen have absconded to Sparta to start their second honeymoon.

Neoptolemus, in particular, has been having a day. First he got paired with Odysseus, which he has come to learn means he's going to be acting as the muscle while the Ithacan takes the credit. Then Odysseus was granted the honor of ending Hector's bloodline, and Neo couldn't even say anything because the order came directly from the mouth of Zeus. (Odysseus already took his father's armor. Could Neo not at least be allowed his vengeance?) Then Hector's woman took a swipe at him with a dagger, which Neo handled quite easily, then a madman burst out of the crypts and nearly cut his leg off, which presented a bit more of a challenge.

The princes compare notes, slowly piecing together a picture of The Stranger who carved a bloody swath through their armies and then disappeared as quickly as he materialized. Finally, Eurylochus says what everyone else has been thinking (fearing). Towering in stature, redhaired, wearing armor that turned their blades and wielding a sword that pierced through bronze like soft clay? They all know who that sounds like.

Yes, the others reluctantly admit, The Stranger is most definitely the ghost of Achilles, returned from the grave to once again punish them all for the sake of some personal slight. (Neo can't stop thinking about the look in the man's eyes, that look of pity or maybe disappointment before he left the youth bleeding on the steps of Hector's tomb).

Diomedes is the only one to object. Aside from Neo, he was the only one to get a good look at The Stranger and live to tell about it. That wasn't Achilles. In fact, he made the man bleed, so he wasn't a ghost either. No one else seems convinced.

Neo confirms that Odysseus went into Hector's tomb alone, and only The Stranger emerged. Sage nods are exchanged amongst the other princes -- Achilles must have returned to avenge his old comrade, Greater Ajax. But then why would he kill so many Achaeans after presumably taking his vengeance on Odysseus? (Agamemnon scoffs. As if Achilles ever needed a reason to be a pain.)

Then a messenger arrives, breathlessly announcing that Ajax the Lesser has been found. Specifically, he has been found dead by a blow from The Stranger's magic sword, lying at the feet of a toppled statue of Athena.

Now that's clearly an omen of some sort, though no one can agree on what message to take from it. Athena is Odysseus's patron, but is the toppled statue a sign of judgement or of disrespect? Does this have anything to do with The Lesser's cousin The Greater? Nestor suggests consulting the Trojan oracle Helenus. They left the boy tied up on Agamemnon's ship after Odysseus finished with him, and he was still alive the last time they checked. Perhaps he can interpret the omen.

This plan only makes it as far as the beach, where the gang discovers that both the oracle and Agamemnon's flagship have been stolen.

Suddenly it all makes perfect sense. Diomedes explodes -- yet again, Achilles is punishing them all for the sake of his feud with Agamemnon. The High King sputters out a denial -- he and Achilles were square when the man died. His conscience is perfectly clean. He still looks as if he is actively having a heart attack.

Nestor attempts to intervene. Diomedes shouldn't jump to conclusions... But if Agamemnon knows of anything that might have brought a vengeful Achilles back from the grave, he really should tell them. They promise they won't be mad.

Agamemnon has the horrible, sinking feeling that this might be about the fact that he took a leak on the ashes of Achille's funeral pyre. But he's certainly not going to admit to that. Wounded or no, Neo has a good couple of inches on him, and the kid is built like he strangles oxen for a hobby. He has that same twitchy look in his eye that his father always had.

This man cannot have been Achilles, he insists, and Agamemnon is going to bring back his head to prove it! (No one else is willing to set sail while the son of a Nereid might be after their heads, and Agamemnon is quite sure that they're one more bad omen away from sacrificing him to appease Achilles. It's what he would do, were he in their position.) Eurylochus and his crew quickly get pressed into service -- they need a captain, and Agamemnon needs a boat. And don't they want to avenge their fallen king?

Neo insists on coming along, much to Agamemnon's horror.

Maedhros isn't ready to panic just yet. Disorienting as that first night was, he's now fairly certain that he knows where he is. He's on the eastern side of the Sea of Rhûn. This is an inland sea, and the climate and general look of the people suggest that he's somewhere south and east of Dorwinion. He's a long way from home, to be sure, but at least he knows how to get back. He takes a moment to privately curse that storm Maia for dragging him so far out of his way.

He's fairly certain that the woman he rescued is the baby's mother. At least, she seemed very relieved to have him back. So if he recalls the storm Maia's threats correctly, that would make her the prince's widow. The others seem to tentatively consider her to be in charge, and she's at least attempted to communicate with him. Maybe she can help him get his bearings.

Unfortunately, she doesn't speak any of the Easterling tongues he learned from Bór. That's not terribly surprising. Rhûn is a land of many nations, and this particular clan must be rather isolated if they're still casting weapons out of bronze. That's fine. He might not invent new languages on a whim as his father did, but he does enjoy learning them.

The golden-haired girl hasn't stopped watching him. She looks away with a pained expression every time he catches her at it, but even now he can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. He saw eyes like that once before -- the first time he saw a mirror after Thangorodrim.

The others give her a wide berth, though she does nothing apart from sit curled under the mast, arms around her knees. During their flight, she broke from her stupor long enough to lead them to this ship -- the same ship where they found the prisoner who Maedhros assumes to be her twin brother. It almost seemed as if she knew where...

But that would be ridiculous. She couldn't have known. Maedhros rather forcibly shrugs the notion off. They're twins. He's seen Amrod and Amras do far stranger.

On his first night, Maedhros was too preoccupied to look up. Even had he chanced to look at the sky, the smoke of the city's burning would have blotted out the stars. He spends the following day tending to the wounded, despite having nothing but torn clothing and seawater, and offering what comfort he can, despite speaking not a word of their language. When the sun sets, he forces himself to stay awake. One look at the stars will give him his heading, and from there he can plan the route home...

Oh. Maedhros doesn't know those stars.

Maedhros is beginning to suspect that he isn't in Rhûn.

More coming soon, by request of @sweetteaanddragons !

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 14 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇note: angsty angsty chapter also pegging is mentioned, don’t ask why

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Y/N slipped silently into Telemachus’s room, the thrill of sneaking around outweighing any sense of propriety. She had no real purpose for being there, just the usual urge to mess with his stuff and uncover whatever embarrassing little secrets he might be hiding.

She rifled through the scrolls on his desk, smirking at his newly neat handwriting and the occasional crossed out phrase. She nudged open a chest by the corner, finding nothing but spare tunics and an overly folded blanket. Boring. Then her eyes landed on a parchment pinned beneath a smooth stone on the desk. Unlike the others, this one was different, a map with lines drawn across it, accompanied by hastily written notes in the margins.

Her brow furrowed as she leaned closer, reading the annotations. “Pylos—seek out Nestor. Sparta—Menelaus might have news. Depart under cover of night.”

Her heart sank. Plans to sail?

Before she could process the revelation, the door creaked open, and she whirled around, clutching the map in her hand. Telemachus froze in the doorway, his face shifting from surprise to alarm. “Y/N?” he said, stepping forward. “What are you doing in here?”

She didn’t answer, too caught up in her own panic. “You’re sailing?” she demanded, shaking the map at him. “You’re planning to go to Pylos? And Sparta? Without telling me?” Telemachus shut the door quickly, his expression darkening. “How did you—”

“Don’t you dare try to deflect!” She snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “You’re just going to sneak away in the night? Do you even understand how dangerous this is? There are suitors in this palace who would kill you if they knew!”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell anyone!” Telemachus shot back, stepping closer. “You’re not supposed to know about this! And you have no right to be snooping around in my room!” She glared at him, her grip on the map tightening. “I wouldn’t have had to snoop if you’d just trusted me enough to tell me! You think I wouldn’t care? That I’d just sit here while you run off to get yourself killed?”

“This isn’t your decision to make,” Telemachus countered, his tone firm. “I have to do this, Y/N. My father’s been gone for years, and no one else is going to help me find him!”

“And what if you die trying?” she yelled, her voice cracking slightly. “What if you’re captured, or worse? You think the gods will just keep you safe because you’re Telemachus, the son of Odysseus? You’re not invincible!”

“Neither was my father,” he said quietly.

She faltered, the weight of his words hitting her like a blow. She stared at him, her anger simmering down to something raw and unspoken. “You still should’ve told me,” she muttered, her tone softer now.

“I didn’t want to drag you into this,” Telemachus said, taking the map from her hand. “It’s bad enough that I have to go. I didn’t want you worrying about me, too.” She stopped abruptly, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Telemachus, her eyes blazing. “You’re an idiot if you think this is going to end well! Look at what happened to your father. He was gone for twenty years, Telemachus! Twenty years! And you think you’ll be any different?”

“That’s why I have to go,” he snapped, his voice growing louder. “To make sure he’s still alive! To bring him back if I can!”

“And what if you don’t come back?” She shot back, stepping closer. “What if you suffer the same fate, or worse? You’re not some mighty hero, Telemachus! You’re weak—too weak to handle whatever’s out there! Stay here, where you’re safe. Stay with me.” Her voice softened slightly at the end, but her words stung.

Telemachus flinched as if he’d been slapped, his face darkening with a mix of anger and humiliation. “Safe? You think I should just stay here and abandon my father? Sit around while the suitors destroy my home, steal from us, and insult my mother?”

“Yes, because this is your life now!” she shouted, throwing her arms out. “You can’t change what’s happened! You’re just a boy playing at being a man, pretending you have what it takes to fix this mess. You’ll just get yourself killed!”

“Better than living like a coward!” he yelled back.

“Better than dying like a fool!”

Telemachus clenched his fists, his chest heaving. “You’re impossible, Y/N. You don’t get it, do you? You never could. You’re too busy acting like a brute, always picking fights and pretending you’re better than everyone else.” Her face twisted in anger. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he growled, stepping closer, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re just like a man. Crude, loud, and violent. No wonder the suitors tolerate you—you’re practically one of them.” Her eyes widened slightly, but before she could respond, he sneered, his tone cutting. Her eyes widened slightly, but before she could respond, he sneered, his tone cutting. “And you’re a bitch, Y/N. A selfish, mean spirited bitch who can’t let anyone be happy because you’re too busy dragging them down to your level.”

The words hung in the air like a physical blow. Y/N’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. Her face burned with a mix of fury and something deeper—hurt. Telemachus stood his ground, his face flushed with anger as he glared at her. “You know what? If you’re so upset about me leaving, maybe you should stop pretending you care about me at all,” he spat, his voice cold and sharp. “Why don’t you just go back to your brother and be his little lapdog? That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it? Following Antinous around like a shadow, doing whatever he says, no questions asked.”

Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and fury flashing across her face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hissed, stepping closer to him, her fists trembling at her sides. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Telemachus shot back, his voice rising. “You’re so busy playing the loyal sister, the one who’s always at his side, you don’t even realize how pathetic it looks. Do you even have a thought of your own, Y/N? Or is your entire personality just being Antinous’s little attack dog?”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a tight line. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and dangerous, trembling with restrained anger. “How dare you.” Telemachus sneered, refusing to back down. “Oh, I dare. You’re always so quick to judge me, to tell me what I can and can’t do. Maybe take a look at yourself, Y/N. You’re just like him. Cruel, controlling, and arrogant.”

Her fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, Telemachus,” she snapped, her voice breaking slightly. “You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through, what I’ve had to do to survive.”

“And I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?” he scoffed. “You’ve done nothing but make my life harder since you walked into it. If this is what survival looks like, maybe you and Antinous deserve each other.”

Her jaw tightened, her entire body trembling with barely contained rage. “You’re a coward,” she whispered, her voice low and venomous. “A scared little boy who’s too afraid to face the real world. You don’t deserve to leave this place. You don’t deserve to find your father.”

Telemachus’s chest heaved, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Maybe you’re right,” he said bitterly. “But at least I’m trying to do something. You? You just cling to your brother because you’re too scared to stand on your own.” The words struck like a blow, and for a moment, she looked as though she might hit him. Telemachus realized the weight of what he’d just said, but he didn’t back down.

She stood there for a long moment, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook as her nails dug into her palms, her breath catching as she fought to keep herself together. Finally, she let out a shaky exhale, her gaze hardening. “Fine,” she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling with restrained anger. “Go ahead, Telemachus. Be the Icarus that you’re so desperate to become. See where it gets you.” And with that, she stormed out of the room, tears brimming in her eyes leaving his words to echo painfully in her mind.

“Ah shit….I think I fucked up…” Telemachus mumbled, realizing he let his anger get the best of him.

Meanwhile, a few hours earlier

In the dimly lit banquet hall, Antinous sat slouched in a chair, swirling a goblet of wine while Eurymachus lounged across from him, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. The other suitors were scattered around, caught up in drinking and gambling, but Antinous had only one thing on his mind, and he was fuming about it.

“She’s acting weird,” Antinous grumbled, slamming the goblet onto the table. Eurymachus raised an eyebrow, leaning back lazily. “Who’s acting weird?”

“Y/N, who else?” Antinous snapped. “She’s been blushing at everything. I asked her if she wanted to spar earlier, and she just turned red and started muttering. And then later, I found her staring off into the courtyard like some lovesick fool!” He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “It’s driving me insane. What’s gotten into her?”

Eurymachus’s smirk widened, and he propped his chin on his hand, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he said smoothly, his tone infuriatingly casual. “She’s probably just…distracted.” Antinous glared at him, not missing the glint in Eurymachus’s eyes. “Distracted by what?”

Eurymachus chuckled, taking a long sip from his goblet. “By who, you mean.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Antinous growled, sitting up straighter.

Eurymachus shrugged, his grin practically splitting his face now. “Oh, I think you know. Or maybe you don’t.” He paused for effect, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Let’s just say Y/N might have a certain… suitor of her own.” Antinous froze, his brow furrowing deeply. “What are you talking about? Y/N doesn’t care about any of you idiots.”

“True,” Eurymachus said with a shrug. “But who said it was one of us?” Antinous’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’re talking in riddles, and it’s pissing me off. If you know something, spit it out.” Eurymachus leaned in, clearly relishing the moment. “Oh, I could tell you, but where’s the fun in that?” he teased. “I’ll give you a hint, though. Your dear sister might not be as unattached as you think.”

Antinous’s face darkened, his temper flaring. “You’re messing with me,” he said, his voice low and threatening. Eurymachus smirked even wider. “Am I?” Antinous slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the hall. “That’s it! Enough of your smug nonsense. If you don’t tell me what you’re insinuating, I’ll break your arm.”

Eurymachus laughed, clearly unfazed. “I’d like to see you try, champ.”

With a growl, Antinous shoved the table aside and stood up. Eurymachus followed suit, rolling up his sleeves. The other suitors began to notice, gathering around as the two squared off at a nearby table. “Fine,” Antinous said, his voice dripping with venom as he slammed his elbow on the table, challenging Eurymachus to an arm wrestle. “If I win, you’ll tell me exactly what you mean about Y/N.”

“And if I win?” Eurymachus asked with a sly grin, clasping Antinous’s hand.

“You won’t,” Antinous snapped.

The room filled with cheers and jeers as the two locked hands, their muscles straining as they pushed against each other with all their might. Antinous’s jaw was clenched tight, his face set in determination, while Eurymachus’s smug grin only made him push harder. The struggle lasted longer than either of them anticipated, but in the end, Antinous slammed Eurymachus’s hand down with a triumphant roar.

“Now talk,” Antinous demanded, standing over Eurymachus with a fierce glare. Eurymachus rubbed his arm, still grinning despite his loss. “Alright, alright,” he said, standing up. “You never said when to tell you, so I’ll leave it up to when I feel like saying it. I’m just oh so very overwhelmed by the amount of pressure on the great Eurymachus.”

Antinous’s face twisted into a snarl, but before he could respond, Eurymachus had already skipped away, his laughter echoing through the hall.

Antinous continued to give him a dirty glare as he sauntered away in laughs. “Did one of the bitches he slept with peg his ass too hard? Thalia right? What is up with everyone today.” He said sighing and sitting back down, goblet still in hand.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress @f3r4lfr0gg3r @eyuunho @permanently-nothere

@xo-cuteplosion-xo

[streets-in-paradise]

do you still write stories? i just downloaded this app and read some of your stories, they just so gooddd.

if you do, can you please write something about Patroclus x f!reader, like headcannons or a fic.

If you need inspo for a plot, Patroclus could fall in love with Odysseus’s daughter as they meet when the Greeks celebrate peace with trojans and they reach together Troy (because yn is the princess of ithaca) or she just waits for him to come back.

Thank you so muchhh

Hi!!

Welcome to Tumblr, and to my blog :)

Thank you so much for your kindness on my writing 💕

I am still writing fics and my requests for Troy are permanently open because there are only 3 writers in the site currently still writing for that movie: my mutuals @alysinwonderland-at-tea ( writes for all lead men), @ethereal--muse (only writes for Achilles) and me.

I write for all characters and i love cute Patroclus fics. This idea sounds so cute, thank you for sending it in!!

Actually, your idea for the plot is fantastic cause in mythology Odysseus did lead a peace mission in Troy demmanding Helen diplomatically before the war started. I can either use the Sparta settling of the movie's first peace mission or take that plot from the source and start from there.

Now that i think about it, Odysseus going like " You know what? Let me handle this" in Sparta would have made a lot of sense. It's not said in the film, but Helen and Penelope are relatives (cousins), so it would make even more sense for him to be there as mediator between trojans and spartans. Knowing his trickery, he may just go like "menelaus! i came with my family for a reunion because my wife wanted to visit yours. Ohh, you have a peace mission? I had no idea! Well, I guess I'm part of it now" * Captain Kirk pretending to be surprised meme*

This is a great start, thank you so much i'm gonna have so much fun writing this.

[telemakhosofithake]

Τηλέμαχος Ἰθάκης ( “Telemachus of Ithaca” )

ODYSSEY!Telemachus RP blog, no. This isn’t your friendly EPIC!Telemachus. Though sometimes, EPIC will be quoted.

“Hear me, for I am Telemachus, son of the great Odysseus and the noble Penelope. For twenty long years, my father has been lost to the winds and waves, far from his home. Yet now, I stand ready—no longer the helpless boy, but a man forged in the fires of longing and wrath. Never again shall mercy find a place within me.”

“Twenty years have passed—yes, at last, my father has returned to our shores. But still, the blood of the suitors stains my hands, a mark that will never fade. Do I regret it, all that has been done?”

“No.”

“I’m not sure if he is my father.”

"Now, of course. You want to hear about me, my struggles, no doubt. How I've been tossed about by the gods, and how, if you do not cease this invasion of my space— I swear, I'll not stand idly by any lo-”

Sigh. Alright, let’s start.

Appearance: Sloanslone’s design. And here… Plus this. were not done here. ANNNDDD finally Though with a scar on his lip. 6 foot.

Species: 60% human with others being 25% naiad, 9.4% pure Hermes, and 6.25% Bear. (Bear.. complicated.)

Personality: He seems calm, though sometimes rage builds up inside him, he’s able to hold it in… most of the time. Other than that, he’s sometimes insane and irrational when he gets angered greatly, but mostly he’s mature, and seems to handle things quickly… and swiftly. BLUNT AS FUCK

Bisexual…

Champion of Athena.

Legacy of Hermes and Zeus…

Nephew of Helen and Menelaus of Sparta, Great Grandson of Perseus and Andromeda.

Weapons: Spear and sword.

Powers: He has powers.. he hasn’t found them out yet.

Voiceclaim: Here!

Headcanons Here.

Rules:

• NO NSFW

• Telemachus can have different partners! Though it will be set in different universes for no drama.

• If I don’t like you. I won’t interact.

Add more later…

People he knows:

N/A

Blogs Free to Interact: The Odyssey RP blogs, EPIC rp blogs, PJO/HOO/TOA/etc RP blogs.

okay so basically this is just a more insane @ithacas-prince… my friend runs the blog so think of it as that. Same person, different personalities. YAY!!!

[sgannaoui-blog]

The Odyssey- 2019 Film Adaptation

"'When your crew have taken you past these Sirens, I cannot give you coherent directions as to which of two courses you are to take; I will lay the two alternatives before you, and you must consider them for yourself. Homer’s great literary work, The Odyssey, is coming to the big screen in 2019. With background information on the film, we are interviewing Sound Designer Sophia Gannaoui. We have a list of songs featured in the film with descriptions of why they were chosen by Gannaoui herself.

*Note: This film is Rated R because of strong references to alcohol and the inclusion of mild curse words.

1. The Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSg-eHng52E

Book 1 in The Odyssey holds an introductory discussion about the fate of Odysseus- the king of Ithaca. The instrumental of this song at the beginning represents sadness and mystery which is reflected upon the whereabouts of Odysseus himself. When the song transitions into having lyrics, the lyrics contain a very resigned mood starting off by saying, “So long to all my friends, every one of them met tragic ends.” For Odysseus’ son, Telemachus, he has given up all hope of reuniting with his father by saying “‘My father is dead and gone,’" answered Telemachus, ‘and even if some rumour reaches me I put no more faith in it now. My mother does indeed sometimes send for a soothsayer and question him, but I give his prophecyings no heed.’” Odysseus is the friend of Telemachus and the possible death of Odysseus is the “tragic end” that is mentioned in the song.

2. Pachelbel's Canon in D Major

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NlprozGcs80

Love is in the air in Books 3 and 4 filled with great elegance. Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major is a classic song played at weddings and is enjoyed by many. It already emotes romanticism through its legato playing. The celebration of the marriages of the children of the King and Queen of Sparta was a grand event, “For his only son he had found a bride from Sparta, daughter of Alector. This son, Megapenthes, was born to him of a bondwoman, for heaven vouchsafed Helen no more children after she had borne Hermione, who was fair as golden Venus herself. So the neighbours and kinsmen of Menelaus were feasting and making merry in his house. There was a bard also to sing to them and play his lyre, while two tumblers went about performing in the midst of them when the man struck up with his tune.] “

Weddings bring people together in great unity and the ones in the story were what brought Odysseus closer to the royalty that took him in and discussed the Trojan War altogether.

3. Aaron Burr, Sir from Hamilton the Musical (Karaoke)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLgo9drgZ6g

This song contains many breaks for dialogue to speak over which is needed for scenes in Book 7 because of the main conversation going on between Ulysses and Alcinous. The original song contained comedic lines of reasoning and logic about drinking and reaching an elite level of political control. When “Ulysses said: ‘Pray, Alcinous, do not take any such notion into your head. I have nothing of the immortal about me, neither in body nor mind, and most resemble those among you who are the most afflicted,’” we had our actors saying this in a teasing way for the idea of immortality to be such an absurdity to Ulysses.

4. Troy Song from Phineas and Ferb

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIOjFkcWT5g

In Book 8, “the muse inspired Demodocus to sing the feats of heroes, and more especially a matter that was then in the mouths of all men, to wit, the quarrel between Ulysses and Achilles, and the fierce words that they heaped on one another as they sat together at a banquet... Thus sang the bard, but Ulysses drew his purple mantle over his head and covered his face, for he was ashamed to let the Phaeacians see that he was weeping.” The Troy Song tells the story of the Trojan War in an upbeat matter. It is a positive song about defeat and victory which would give a reason for Odysseus to cover his face while crying. If the song was meant to be sad, Odysseus could freely express his sadness and memory of the war through tears but because it is a celebratory song, it gives him the purpose of hiding his true emotions.

5. I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) by Sleeping at Last

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vU81DihqD0c

When Odysseus reveals who he is in Book 9, he describes his experience in fighting throughout the time of the Trojan War. When telling of the victory his soldiers faced, Odysseus said, “‘Thence we sailed onward with sorrow in our hearts, but glad to have escaped death though we had lost our comrades, nor did we leave till we had thrice invoked each one of the poor fellows who had perished by the hands of the Cicons.’” This represents sadness and struggle after the war and I imagine each soldier to have had the mission and duty to work as hard as walking the “500 miles” somberly sung in the song. The song does represent the hope of reuniting with loved ones saying “when I wake up, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man that wakes up next to you.” Soldiers waking up each day in hopes of being a day closer to being at home with their family in comfort, a fantasy that could not be lived by other members of their party.

6. Sail by Awolnation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CaypEojjKQ

As the men accompanying Odysseus on the ship believe him to be hoarding gold and silver in Book 10, their distrust corrupted their minds “‘Thus they talked and evil counsels prevailed. They loosed the sack, whereupon the wind flew howling forth and raised a storm that carried us weeping out to sea and away from our own country.’” The “ooh’s” in the song represent the strong howling noise caused by the wind escaping from the sack that was irresponsibly opened. In addition, the fragmented beats of the song represent the quick jumping of conclusions that led Odysseus’ men to open the sack.

7. Coming Home by Diddy featuring Skylar Grey

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-ImCpNqbJw

In Book 12, Circe warns Odysseus, "'When your crew have taken you past these Sirens, I cannot give you coherent directions as to which of two courses you are to take; I will lay the two alternatives before you, and you must consider them for yourself.” This line marks the true life or death matter in the journey back to Ithaca. Circe gives the choices of safety or risk to Odysseus and the beginning of the song’s slow tempo and somber tone represents this sad moment of decision making and risk taking. When the song transitions into rap, this follows the build-up of anticipation and danger in what Odysseus would have to face on his journey back home.

8. Thrift Shop by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis Featuring Wanz

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QK8mJJJvaes

This song represents a complete wardrobe change based on a lower budget on clothing spending in thrift shops. Minerva transformed Odysseus into a man that looked older and dirtier than what he was in Book 13 and “As she spoke Minerva touched him with her wand and covered him with wrinkles, took away all his yellow hair, and withered the flesh over his whole body; she bleared his eyes, which were naturally very fine ones; she changed his clothes and threw an old rag of a wrap about him, and a tunic, tattered, filthy, and begrimed with smoke; she also gave him an undressed deer skin as an outer garment, and furnished him with a staff and a wallet all in holes, with a twisted thong for him to sling it over his shoulder.” The complete transformation of Odysseus’ looks is something new for him to experience and the increasing pace in the song is empowerment and motivation to make this change worth the sacrifice in order to take his kingdom back.

9. Jealous by Nick Jonas

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQw2qIl838Q

In Book 18, Odysseus gets into a fight with a beggar named Arneaus (also called Irus). Irus challenges Odysseus in fighting for the hand in marriage of Penelope by saying, “I have a good mind to lay both hands about you, and knock your teeth out of your head like so many boar's tusks. Get ready, therefore, and let these people here stand by and look on. You will never be able to fight one who is so much younger than yourself." As the song says, “I turn my cheek, music up, and I’m puffing my chest, I’m getting ready to face you,” Odysseus is indeed getting mentally prepared to fight off Irus to become the suitor of his own wife Penelope. This is the moment where Odysseus goes into his mind for a moment to gain strength and realize his fight from the Trojan War is not over until he is reunited completely with his family.

10. Thousand Years by Christina Perri

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrM-Bkm4c_I

In Book 19, Odysseus talks with Penelope, still in disguise, about how he will return to her soon. Penelope has waited for so long for him to come home but there would be civil unrest if she waited any longer to find a suitor. She comes up with a solution to the public that would delay time for her marriage in order for Odysseus to come home before then which “Ulysses answered, ‘Madam wife of Ulysses, you need not defer your tournament, for Ulysses will return ere ever they can string the bow, handle it how they will, and send their arrows through the iron.’” Thousand Years reflects the undying love Penelope has for Odysseus as she truly does not want to find a new partner. She has waited for a long time for Odysseus to come home which can hyperbolically be compared to waiting a thousand years.

11. Shut Up and Drive by Rihanna (Karaoke)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPVo9MnoiEc

In Book 22, Eurymachus encourages Odysseus to fight every man fighting for Penelope by announcing, “‘My friends, this man will give us no quarter. He will stand where he is and shoot us down till he has killed every man among us. Let us then show fight; draw your swords, and hold up the tables to shield you from his arrows. Let us have at him with a rush, to drive him from the pavement and doorway: we can then get through into the town, and raise such an alarm as shall soon stay his shooting.’" The fighting montage that ensues after this proclamation has the karaoke track of Shut Up and Drive playing underneath it because it is as fast paced as the action taking place.

12. i love you by Billie Eilish

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UXfh63M5yLo

In Book 23, Penelope struggles with believing that the man who claims to be Odysseus really is him. Euryclea reasons "‘My dear child," answered Euryclea, "I am not mocking you. It is quite true as I tell you that Ulysses is come home again. He was the stranger whom they all kept on treating so badly in the cloister. Telemachus knew all the time that he was come back, but kept his father's secret that he might have his revenge on all these wicked people.’” The back and forth tempo increase and decrease in the song represent the fluctuating belief of Penelope that Odysseus is with her.

To listen to all of these songs incorporated within the storytelling of Odysseus’ journey home, watch The Odyssey in theaters- coming in the summer of 2019.

[whitesilverandmercury]

So you remember that bit towards the beginning of the Odyssey where Telemachus decides to go look for his dad and heads off to Pylos to see Nestor, with Athena doing her cross-dressing act? And there's that whole "“let Telemachus, king Odysseus' son, sleep at the palace now, on a corded bed inside the echoing colonnade, with Prince Pisistratus close beside him there” intimate friends thing and then they go to Sparta? Something with that? Any fandom you like. Please and thank-you.

fic prompts ☆ fuck me up here

disclaimers: don’town, don’t ownrating: ehhh T? nothing explicit, sort of fluffypairing: kh, akurokua/n: for @paraklausithyro – ancient Greek AU // Let Telemachus,king Odysseus’ son, sleep at the palace now, on a corded bed inside the echoingcolonnade, with Prince Pisistratus close beside him there. // so liketimeline is definitely not 100% accurate and there are plenty creativeliberties but you get the point lmao

peaches and cream. 

i.

Roxas does not remember his father, or the start of the war,whenever it was the war actually started. What he remembers is a house that toosoon did not feel empty anymore, cool floors and shuttered windows threadingthe light, the humming of the waves on the crags at night like the humming ofhis mother as she strokes his hair to put him to sleep, curled up in her bedwith his back against her warm, shifting bosom. Sweet smell of sun on earth.Purple shadow of Mt. Neion. What he does remember is visitors who were notafter his mother’s hand in remarriage — visitors, now and again, to the rockycountry-man island, and one of these visitors a younger son of a lord alsostolen away by the fighting at Troy.

It was before news of the war’s end had reached them, andRoxas cannot remember why they came,up, all the way up from Messenia, but he remembers the son — the strongshoulders for a boy, maybe five years older than himself. Tall, too, with thesun-kissed skin of the Messenian coast but the clear, sharp cat eyes and deepred hair of Thrace. Roxas will not know the strangeness of this until he isolder. What he remembers is watching wide-eyed and wondering from around hismother’s leg, fingers curled in the fine fall of her clothes, as the boy andhis brothers rough housed in the outer courtyard, their laughter and squeakingshouts bouncing off marble and dust. What he remembers is the flash of clear,cool green eyes, fast and piercing as a strike to the earth from gloriouslightning-bringing Zeus. Hovering on him. Noticing him after he’d snuck awayfrom his mother’s knee, to peek out from the faded colonnade along the yard.Shooting away again, to an older brother who wrestles him to the ground in aburst of limbs and strangled half-laughter.

ii.

Axel remembers being excited to go north again, to therugged backwater island. There is a widow there, and two of his brothers are atcontest of who can win her hand. The estate is good; never mind the location.As Axel remembers, the woman is beautiful, blonde and blue-eyed, and she onlyhas one son, an easy opponent for his brothers considering he is still a child.

Yes, she has a son, and he is also blond and blue-eyed, witha heart-shaped face and uncertain mouth, a dance of freckles across his cheeksfrom the sun, kisses from Helios, eyes like a stormy sky. Axel remembers himfrom the first trip, lonely prince of this isolated island; he remembers himfrom this trip, and the way the shadows of the colonnade fall over him inribbons as he made his way with a shoddy play bow and hip-quiver of arrows, agraduation from childhood slingshot, Axel supposed. Axel hid behind one of themarble columns and just as the country prince was passing, he jumped out with shouldersdrawn and hands in claws, like a mountain beast ready to pounce.

“Ah!” he cries, aiming not to scare, only to startle theboy, playful like a kitten.

The boy doesn’t rear back but he does stop short, eyeswidening just a bit, flutter of lashes as he blinks as if to clear his visionof a double take. “What?” he mumbles.

Axel wilts, but laughs nonetheless. “The Nemean lion,” he says.He reaches out and tousles the boy’s mess of dirty blond hair as if they arefriends.

“Right.” The boy takes the touch a moment, before leaningaway like a cat highly selective of love. Still, he looks up at Axel with thosebig, wondering eyes like he is used to being friends with people who don’t askif he wishes to be friends. “Because of Herakles. Your father knew him.”

“Yes,” Axel says. “And my grandfather brought hisvengeance.”  

The boy — Roxas, Axel remembers finally remembering the name— stares at him a moment, before he stirs with a little breath and anotherflicker of the eyes and he says shyly, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Axel bristles, heat flooding his face like falling asleepoutside in the warm noontime. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. “Becauseyou’re beautiful,” he says after a moment, not quite sure how else to explainit. “And I want to protect it. I think you should be mine.”

Roxas’ brow dimples; his nose wrinkles like he’s tastedsomething sour. “Your what?”

“My boy,” Axel replies resolutely, inclining his chin.Roxas’ chin lifts, too, as he laughs and laughs, and the sound is as pleasingas the dance of rain on the soft earth.

“You’re not old enough to say that to me yet!” he giggles,and Axel softens in a warm grin, a smile with teeth, because the light onRoxas’ face makes his heart swell.

iii.

Roxas remembers a few years later the way the red-haired boystartled him on the upper balcony, where he’d thought himself skillfully hiddento spy on the men at court trying so very hard to win over his mother’s favor.

“You look heartbroken,” the red-haired boy said, cat-eyedprince of Pylos, son of the Gerenian horseman, leaning against the wall withone hip cocked and ankles crossed at a pedestal foot. Lovely but slightly dustychiton, hand embroidery, scarlet wool that paled in comparison to hisdark-rooted hair — which he’d been combing through with his fingers, as ifirritated by its stubborn cowlicks. He is less a boy now than that intermediarynot-man, his shoulders just slightly broader, no longer spindly but lean,marble-smooth muscles and curves.  

Roxas remembers how flustered he’d been, blushing andstuttering. Not to be caught peeking, but because he’d been very excited to seethe boy again. He remembers wanting to mumble something along the lines of,“And who are you to come into my father’s house remarking on the suitors whothink he’s dead?” But he doesn’t, because he cannot speak; his tongue failshim, and his eyes hang on the older boy’s lips, mesmerized by their shape andtheir softness. The way his knuckles have hardened. The cut of his thighmuscles into his knee. And he remembers the boy saying he wanted to be his suitor, and Roxas thinks, if the boywants to kiss him, he’d let him, but there’s still not enough age between themfor it to count as something other than a childhood curiosity —

The boy’s green eyes have deepened and sharpened, eyes likea lion, he the grandson of the man who brought the vengeance of the Lion-Slayerhimself. And as the silence spins on between them, those green cat eyes prompt,Go on. Say something. But Roxasdoesn’t, so the boy does.

“Peaches and cream,” he murmurs.

Roxas’ brow knots. “What?”

“Peaches and cream.” The boy shrugs. “This is what thepirates said to twice-born Dionysus, his skin is like peaches and cream,unburnt by the sun and pale from hunting.”

Roxas is tense, on edge, a breath snared on his lower lip. Peaches and cream. Is this what he makesthe boy think of? Shy, flattered fire burns in his cheeks; he is embarrassed byhow much stock he places in the boy’s attention, cowed by how much it means tohim to be noticed. The boy seems just as embarrassed by his own interest,confused as to why it is still there. Words hang between them unspoken likemorning dew on a hyacinth —

“And the pirates tried to force themselves on him, did theynot?” Roxas finally mumbles.

The boy nods slowly. “They did.”

“But you wouldn’t,” Roxas says flatly, and it is both astatement and a question. The boy’s eyes burn into him, sear straight to hisbones. Roxas clears his throat. “Are you waiting for me?” he murmurs after amoment. He asks two questions. He asks: Areyou wanting to waste time together today? He asks: Do you still think I’m beautiful?

The boy says nothing. They stare at each other, a frictionbetween them tightening, tightening like a string on a lyre, a note ready to beplucked.

Roxas remembers a man calling from below then: “Axel!” Tutor,perhaps. Attendant. Weary of babysitting. The red-haired boy heaved a grandsigh and disappeared around the corner, following his name.

Axel, Roxasmouthed, letting the feel of the name settle on his tongue so he can swallow it.

iv.

Axel — his name is Axel, a prince of Pylos, grandson of aman who brought the vengeance of the Lion-Slayer, son of a great man who foughtat Troy, and six years later he is still bronzed by the sun in the softest,heat-sweet of ways, hair braided loosely over his shoulder and a chillinglyperceptive side-glancing air about him that must have gone hard against thegrain in his boyhood training at Sparta. He is quiet as on the shore blackbulls are sacrificed to Poseidon, as at a cool and colorful court his fatherpasses the honeyed wine for libations to the small party of unexpected guests.The smoke of the sacrifice is hearty; the two-handled cup glints gold inlamplight like the fires outside; Roxas, young only son of Ithaca’s lord, thewar general whose name is already legendary, sits with all the expected gracethough there is something about it that is all his own. All the years that havepassed since Axel last saw him have distilled into a crystal coldness that isnot emotionless, merely a quiet edge like ice — beautiful, and fragile, and atonce dangerous. Lithe and languid as a nymph is he, slim but not spindly, withivory skin and hair gold in the low light, honey in the sun, his eyes still astormy blue. He seemed spectacular and beautiful like a bastard of Zeus whenAxel first met him years ago. He seems now to be just as special, and Axelcannot bring himself to stop looking at him. It quickens his blood. Causes hisheart to stutter. He does not know why. He thinks, I was a child then. He thinks, Heis so beautiful. He thinks, I cannotbelieve I still want him and he knows it is a foolish fantasy, but —

Grey-haired and grey-eyed, Axel’s father, King of Pylos,Argonaut, urges graciously, “Please, let the prince sleep at the palacetonight, share the room with my son as is only fitting for such a guest, son ofIthaca’s king.”  

Axel looks up with a flicker of the eyes, up and away fromthe knife with which he fiddles in his lap, a tiny little thing, precious tohim, pulled from the leather strap at his hip. He waits for his father’s eyes;his father doesn’t meet them. What does he mean, in offering as much? That heexpects something of Axel — that he has caught the way Axel has been sneakinglooks at Roxas this entire time, that his father wants to guide them to eachother like this is some embarrassing version of an arranged marriage, reputationsat stake for Axel’s unmarried negligence —

Axel’s gaze slides over to the little grouping of guests.Finally, Roxas is looking at him, big blue eyes hovering in that keen andwondering way of his.

v.

The room is a cramped but lovely corner within a greatercolonnade, and feels pretentious for its obvious mere practicality — Ioniccolumns and paint blue as the summer sky, marble floors faded but soft fromyears of whispering footsteps. The walls, colored by scenes of godly greatness;the scent of frankincense and bay laurel lingers, lamp oil, something sharp andmetallic. It is a balmy night but there is a lovely breeze, and the shuttereddoors are wide open for it, drapes hanging heavy but parted for moonlight topool on the floors.

They don’t really talk. They are men now. The corded bedshifts as they retire, and they fall asleep with backs turned.

Roxas dreams of his mother and when he stirs a bit in thequietest hours of the night, they are facing each other, and his fingers havecurled on the naked skin of Axel’s chest. He blushes; he is afraid to move fora moment, afraid to breathe, lest he wake the lion and be caught nestled upinto him. But even if he weren’t afraid, he wouldn’t move, because he is lostin the lines and the shapes of Axel’s face, gawking up at him through theshadows of sleepy eyes. The moonlight falls across Axel’s face; his hairtickles Roxas’ nose. His chest rises and falls slowly, steadily, below curledfingers. You’re beautiful. I want to protect you. Are you waiting for me? And Roxasshifts; their legs are somehow tangled, too. He cranes, slowly, and he cantaste his heart in his throat as his breath dusts Axel’s mouth. He hesitates.The smell of Axel’s hair and skin fills his head. He parts his lips, hoping toat least brush against the other pair, taste wine, perhaps, taste his skin,feel the petal softness —

Axel tips his chin just so, catching Roxas’ mouth in his,and it is deliberate, and it is conscious, and Axel’s eyes flicker open halfwayfor one of those piercing, cat-eyed glances as the short, soft kiss fades awayagain into the simple dusting of skin. He was awake, Roxas realizes. He chokeson a breath. He wants to say, It was adream. He wants to say, Didn’t meanto. What he does say is, “Did you wait for me?”

Axel looks startled for a moment, guilty, flustered — andthen he curls in a smile, softened at the edges by a warmth for which Roxasfeels responsible, for which he is embarrassed in a lovely way, for which hesmiles stupidly himself and wishes he could hide the joy he takes in it.

The happy smile on Roxas’ face crumbles into happy,breathless laughter as Axel kisses up his face to his ear and his fingers crawldown Roxas’ sides to graze the small of his back, graze his hips, follow his thigh,body arched to the touch. There is something easy about it — Eros knows norules but to join men like them with the lovely ease of brotherhood. The happybreathless laughter stutters into a string of happy breathless sighs, and Axelwhispers, “Peaches and cream.”  

 end.