#it’s because of odysseus’s love for penelope

[dootznbootz]

ngl, I like, kind of don't register and/or take into consideration of the whole "Athena and Odysseus saying goodbye" from Epic because like, that's just in Epic. It's sad but it makes sense for the story Jay wants to tell.

I just don't really think about it since I mostly think about the Odyssey with stuff and I know Athena is looking after Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus until they die. They're her favorite pet mortals and she's never gonna leave them alone. When OdyPen are old and gray, she's getting them senior cat kibble with hairball care. Athena loves these weirdos, you kidding me?

[sprnklersplashes]

five times telemachus sleeps in his parents' bed (ao3)

buy me a coffee!

Telemachus won’t even remember this. He is mere months old, and outside his palace his city is preparing for war. The kitchen table is weighted down by his father’s things, swords and daggers, a travelling cloak and provisions, stacks of paper for the letters he will write home. The air is heavy with grief for what it is to come, but Telemachus knows nothing about this. All he knows is that Father lifted him from his cradle and is taking him down the hall, pulling faces and babbling so that his little laugh fills the palace. He knows that his father loves him more than anything.

“Odysseus,” Penelope sighs. “You need to let him sleep in the crib. The midwife says he should learn to sleep on his own.”

“Let me have this.” He eases himself into the bed, shifting Telemachus from his hip to his stomach. “When I return he may not be in the crib anymore.”

“Odysseus-” 

Telemachus babbles and reaches forward, fascinated by his father’s beard and oblivious to the admission he let slip. Odysseus kisses the boy’s tiny hand, his heart already aching. To think that he’s had so little time with his son, and now has to leave because…

It’s not your place to question, a voice whispers. He can’t tell if it’s himself or Athena.

To his side, the sheets rustle and Penelope’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, her leg slipping between and tangling with his. If he only could, he would stay in this moment forever. His boy on his belly, his love by his side. It’s why he cannot say no; if anyone touched either of them, Odysseus would make the world burn to get them back. There is no bliss like this. 

“You be a good boy for your mama while I’m gone, all right?” he asks him. “And when I return, I’m going to teach you all manner of things. We’re going to go hunting and I’ll teach you to shoot and we’ll go sailing and oh, wait until Athena meets you properly. She will love you. She’s going to train you like she trained me.”

I did not agree to that her voice booms in his head, but for once he waves her off. Telemachus gurgles, kicking his feet with delight as he kisses him and that is all that matters. 

They lie there for some time, sitting in tender silence, until Telemachus’ eyes begin to droop. He blinks and rubs them and sways like a tiny flower caught in the breeze. Odysseus lowers him slowly, so he lies flat against his chest. His heart beats against the tiny body; a special melody to lull him to sleep.

“I almost don’t want him to go sleep,” he whispers. “I don’t want him to close his eyes and wake up without me here.”

“I know.” Penelope runs her feather-light finger up Telemachus’ back. Unlike Odysseus, she doesn’t hide her anger. She might not speak it aloud, because she has common sense, but he can feel it coming from her. And hell has no fury like his wife scorned. 

It is almost enough to make him stay.

Odysseus kisses her head. He doesn’t mention the tears running down her face, nor the ones gathering in his own eyes. Right now, he is here, and he has promised to return.

It will have to be enough.

2

It takes him a while to knock on the door. His cheeks burn, half-hidden behind his hands. Part of him wishes to run back to bed, to hide under the covers and pretend like nothing happened. But the palace is different at night, the corridors are longer and cast in shadow, and the silence is suffocating. Telemachus doesn’t know which steps he should take, if monsters lurk around the corners he passes so freely during the day. 

“Tel? Sweet boy, why aren’t you in bed?”

Telemachus looks up. Mama stands over him, hair messy and eyes heavy. He opens his mouth, only to give nothing but a feeble croak. The words he has learned over the past four years desert him in less than a second.

Luckily, Mama knows. She lowers down until she is his height and in no time sees the soiled nightshirt. Telemachus whimpers, a feeling he can’t yet name gripping him, and before he knows it his face is screwing up and his whole body is hot and tears are running like rivers down his cheeks. 

Mama pulls him close and lets him rest his head on her shoulder.

“It’s all right, sweet boy,” she tells him. “It happens. It happens, it’s all right. Let’s get you cleaned up now, mm?” She pats his back. “It’s all right.”

Telemachus keeps his head buried as they make their way to the washroom. The monsters don’t come after Mama, but he doesn’t want to look up in case one finds him and comes into his room later. 

Fear strikes him, sharp and sudden, and his sobs build.

“It’s all right, Tel. Mama’s got you.”

In the washroom, she doesn’t bother calling for a servant. Instead, it’s her who washes his legs with warm water and soap that smells like honey. It is Mama who places his damp nightclothes in the basket and pulls fresh ones from the cupboard. It is Mama who wipes his tears and kisses his head and braves the monsters to walk back to their chambers. Telemachus wishes he could be like her, he could be brave and strong and walk back to his chambers alone, but he can’t. He doesn’t know how to be brave yet, and part of him worries he will never learn. 

“Now, my boy,” Mama whispers. “Why don’t you sleep in my bed tonight, mm?” She smooths his hair away from his face. “Just in case there’s any more accidents.”

Telemachus nods, and when Mama wraps him in her covers and cuddles him, he forgets about the monsters outside. 

3

Telemachus has never liked storms. Not when he was a child, not when he was a baby according to his mother, and certainly not at 10. The problem is, he is the man of the house until Father comes home, and the man of the house cannot be running away from storms. He cannot be huddled beneath his covers with his hands clamped over his ears because he does not like the thunder.

He should not be shrieking when the covers are pulled from his head by his mother.

“Telemachus,” she sighs. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“I was asleep,” he protests. He doesn’t know why he continues trying to lie to his mother, not when he has been caught out every time, but he does. One day it has to work, doesn’t it?

Mother sighs, sits on the bed, and rubs his back.

“Come and sleep in my room tonight.”

“No,” he says. “I-I’m fine. I can sleep on my own.”

“Tel-”

“I’m not scared,” he insists, just as another thunderclap booms overhead. Telemachus jumps before he can stop himself, and his mother’s reaction is equal parts concern for him and equal parts ‘I told you so’.

In response, Telemachus can just scowl, not even sure who he is angry with. 

“Well, I am scared,” she says. Telemachus shakes his head; he knows Mother is not afraid of anything. “No Tel, I really am. I hate storms.” She shudders and whimpers as she peers outside the window. “And I keep thinking if only I had a big strong man in my rooms to keep me safe.”

“The guards are there,” he responds. But a smile tugs on his lips.

“Oh, them!” she scoffs. “They’re good, but I wish I had a proper hero to keep me safe until the storm passes.” She puffs out her cheeks and fixes Telemachus with her most pleading eyes. He buries his face in his pillow. “But, if I can’t have that, I shall have to return to my rooms.” She gets up. “Alone.” She steps towards the door. “Afraid.” Another step. Telemachus bites his lip to keep the giggles inside. “And sad-”

“Wait!” He jumps from the bed, breathless. “Maybe I should come with you. To keep you safe.”

“Oh Telemachus!” She touches her hand to her chest, eyes brighter than the stars. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course I would.” He strides up to her and takes her hand. “I am the man of the house now.”

Mother squeezes his hand, a slight hitch in her breath.

“Yes you are, my little prince.”

With a newfound energy, Telemachus surges into his mother’s room, wasting no time nestling in the blankets. Mother rolls her eyes as she discards her cloak and climbs in beside him, more grace any all the nymphs put together. She lets Telemachus have the whole other side of the bed and when she settles he grabs her hand, his heart thump-thump-thumping like a canon. 

“Tell me a story. Please.”

“Which one?”

He pretends to think, but there is only ever one answer.

“One of Father’s,” he says. “Oh! Tell me the one about Athena’s magic boar!”

“You’ve heard that one fifty times, Telemachus.”

“Please,” he insists, bordering on whining. Definitely not how the man of the house behaves, but at present he is just a boy in his mother’s bedroom. So he can get away with it.

“All right,” she says. Telemachus grins and wriggles into her lap. Stroking his hair, his mother begins the story, of how his father was out exploring with a patrol when he came across a boar in the woods. His friends wanted to move on, but Father knew something was different about the boar, something in the way the fur glowed…

As Telemachus listens, Mother’s voice drowns out the storm outside. He fights the sleep taking over him until his Father becomes Athena’s warrior of the mind. Mother was right, he has heard this story so many times, but he never gets tired of it. To know his father is one of Athena’s chosen warriors, known throughout Greece. Powerful, clever, courageous. 

Definitely not afraid of some wind.

4

He is fifteen when the suitors start arriving. 

He doesn’t like them, and no, it’s not just because they aren’t his father. It’s not because they call him small, or that they sneer at him when his mother’s back is turned, or that despite him standing at his mother’s side they act like he’s not even there. It’s nothing he hasn’t faced before; he’s spent his life pretending he doesn’t hear the whispers, the constant comparisons to his father and how he is all the things Telemachus isn’t. He can handle it.

It’s the way they look at his mother. It’s the way they move close and closer and that Telemachus’ presence does nothing to deter them. Their hands on hers at dinner, their greedy eyes roaming everywhere except her face. It’s the way their teeth clench, when she tells them she hasn’t made a decision, that she is still weaving her shroud, that she has a duty to her son first. Impatience builds until their palace stinks of it and Telemachus can’t get them out of there fast enough. He watches his mother, his unshakeable, unbreakable mother, shudder whenever they leave. She sobs, silently, whenever she thinks Telemachus can’t see her. He begins to resent the dining hall, the front entrance, each plate and cup that they have touched.

The worst is what he hears when they think he’s not there.

“I’ll take that fucking shroud and strangle the bitch with it.”

“We’ll make her pathetic brat watch.”

“Him! I’ll hang the kid with his own innards if I could. String him up like the flower garland he is.”

“Do you think she’d beg if we did?” One of them asks giddily. “Maybe she’d let us have our way with her if her precious prince was in danger.”

Thankfully, Telemachus has learned not to scream. He forces his fear down, down, down, and by the time he can breathe again, his teeth are stained red.

He doesn’t tell his mother. But when she comes into her room to find him already there, she doesn’t make him leave. All she asks is he puts the sword beneath the bed.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself with it.”

He does, but he keeps the hilt towards him and a smaller dagger strapped to his leg.

If anyone wants to enter his mother’s rooms without permission, they will go through him first.

He can be just as deadly as they are. 

5

The palace is quiet. Telemachus’ mind is anything but. He paces his room, afraid to lie down and close his eyes lest he sees it all again The hallways gushing blood, the tip of Antonius’ blade. Each man falling, one by one, as if torn down by an invisible wind.

Except it wasn’t wind or anything natural; it was his father. The space that sat vacant for twenty years is now filled and it is…. Everything. And incredibly, incredibly loud. 

As minutes and hours go on, Telemachus finds he can’t take it anymore. Voices overlap in his head, the walls of his bedroom are pressing inwards and whether it’s a trick of his mind or something else, he doesn’t want to find out. So he slips out with a blanket around his shoulders, and tiptoes down the now-scrubbed corridors to his parents’ room.

He’s barely knocked on the door before Father answers.

“Son?” 

Telemachus hesitates before slipping inside. The room isn’t as dark as he expected; a single lamp in the corner bathes it in a soft glow. Father is still awake, half propped up against the pillows with Mother asleep on his chest, her arm tight around his waist. Telemachus can’t shake the feeling that he’s interrupted something, even with Father beckoning him in. His eyes hold so much and he can’t help but wonder if he’s up for the same reason Telemachus is. That his thoughts were too loud to let him rest.

“What’s bothering you?”

Telemachus pulls on his sleeve, his breath shallow. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

Father smiles. Despite the heaviness in his eyes, it feels sincere. It’s a steady on his shoulder, a reminder to breathe, a warm embrace to keep him safe. A suggestion that maybe things will be fine.

“Come here,” he says softly. He hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that.

Mother is pulled from sleep as Father shifts to make room for him. There’s a moment where she hasn’t realised the second person yet and she smiles up at Odysseus, completely free of lines and worry as if it’s 20 years ago again.

Telemachus feels blessed to have seen it. 

“Tel?” she mumbles when she notices him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He slides into the space his father left and reaches across to squeeze her shoulder. “I’m all right. I just couldn’t sleep.”

Mother nods, an easy smile gracing her lips. Propped up on her elbow, she leans over and musses Telemachus’ hair, chuckling when he protests. Father laughs too, and Telemachus feels it against his body. Solid, warm, real. Here. Alive.

Mother settles back into the bed, pressing kisses to Father’s bare shoulder as she goes. Father grins and again, it’s like Telemachus is watching a scene from twenty years ago, from a world where nothing bad ever happened and he grew up whole. And maybe it’s the late hour talking, but for the first time, he has hope he can be.

Especially when Father kisses his head. 

“Go to sleep, son,” he whispers. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

“I know,” he murmurs. He presses into his father’s side and sleeps soundly the entire night.  

[three-cheers-for-green-tea]

Y'all... I know we have the Song Of Achilles and it's beautiful and tragic and gay and all the best and worst things that make us feel other things. But here's the deal...

I'm gonna need someone to sit down and write me a whole partner-in-crime-brothers-in-arms-colleagues-to-lovers-nasty-buddy-cop-romance-with-some-comedy-cause-It's-these-two-angst-cause-heist book about Odysseus of Ithaca and Diomedes of Argos. Like... you don't understand how deep these two war criminals have rooted into my brain.

Hardcover and all. Make it poly, get Penelope in there by end. Telenachus now has two dads and an amazing mom. The palace staff, tries their hardest to preserve his mind from the knowledge that OG dad is bottoming in every configuration.

Odysseus as a straight up mischievous, borderline villain, with a wicked silver tongue. Also a brat with amazing thighs, at like...40 years old. (Homer's words, not mine)

Diomedes with his whole "being the baddest of asses but noone gives a shit because of his father." Everyone pretty much treats him like they did in the Illiad. But Odysseus knows.

And Penelope... no notes. She's perfect.

I need this on my shelf..yesterday. I love classic literature, but bitches need their steamy retellings with all of the plot. It's me. I'm bitches. Have a lovely day.

[madbard]

Still thinking about the ISAT party seeing a performance of Epic the Musical and how Dangerous mentioning the North Star would make Siffrin and Loop feel some kinda way...

Imagine in this scenario if that was a line written before the Island got erased, but it was kept in despite many people not quite understanding what it means because something about it just Felt Right...

Oh my goodness, yes! That moment of recognition/realization as they’re watching the musical, that sense of familiarity when it finally clicks…

I love the idea of Epic being written by an islander and then continuing to be performed in Vaugarde even after the island was forgotten. Maybe the name of the island was changed in the scripts to an imaginary setting or a Vaugardian city, and there’s that trace of wrongness for those who saw the original musical whenever the actors will say the new name, because it just doesn’t feel right for some reason.

Epic also becomes such an interesting play in ISAT because certain elements of it just don’t seem to align that well with the Change belief. “Don’t tell me you’re not the same person” stands out here, but there’s also the fact that our main character desperately clings to a single, unchanging purpose regardless of what the universe throws at him, remaining absolutely loyal to Penelope and Telemachus and trying to go home even as everything else is destroyed. For as much as Epic is a story about Odysseus’ transformation, the core of the story lies in the parts of Odysseus that he refuses to ever change - namely, his love for Penelope and identity as a husband and father. His transformation is more of a tragedy than anything - it’s not celebrated, or even really depicted as something natural. This feels less like a story written by someone raised to love and embrace change, and more like a story written by someone raised to believe in an overwhelming Universe that people must painfully navigate, doing all they can to help themselves and their loved ones even as they are dragged down paths they would never have chosen for themselves.

(I’m not saying that a Vaugardian author couldn’t write this story, but there are just so many elements that scream ‘forgotten island’ to me.)

Even better - what if the writer was from the forgotten island, and was living in Vaugarde while working on a script for this musical when the island was forgotten? Imagine them waking up, disoriented, surrounded by half-finished scripts for a story that make their head hurt, and slowly piecing it back together, rewriting it scene by scene until it no longer gives them a migraine, infusing every saga with this deep and inexplicable need to go home. Imagine them at the first performance, watching as Odysseus reunites with his family, and suddenly feeling like something has been ripped from their chest. Like they’ve forgotten something vital. But what?

[superkooku]

I love the animatic for epics would you fall in love with me because a lot of ppl are like “they need to kiss!”

NO.

THEY NEED TO EMBRACE. HUG. SHOW YOUR LOVE THROUGH THE POWER OF HUGGING ‼️‼️

Fr fr. To me, one of the hints that a ship is successful is if they DON'T have to kiss but we still know how much they love each other. The hug is a sign of universal love, of affection and attachment. A kiss can be love but also lust or pure flirtatious attitude. The mature love of Odysseus and Penelope survived a lot more than "not kissing each other"

Besides, I headcannon they sleep in each other's arms for a whole week and then Telemachus rules Ithaca while they just rest together. Because Telemachus is now a man and fit to be a king.

(this fits both Epic and the Odyssey here so I'll just tag this as Greek mythology)

I mean, look at how much more powerful the hug is here :

(me shamelessly adding Howl x Sophie propaganda)

Idk, a kiss isn't bad but a hug is enough

[maidenofcrows]

Fine, fine, I’ll actually write down some of my Penelope headcanons

Aggressive reminder that this is how I personally perceive Penelope, not a rule or a standard or an argument

• Eldest child. The story of Icarius throwing his child to the water bc she wasn’t a son (mentioned in Apollodorus, which isn’t Homeric canon) was absolutely insane to read and feels like some firstborn type of childhood trauma

• Confrontational but knows how to pick her battles (that’s pretty much just canon, I think)

• Yes, she is a deeply comforting person to be around, but she’d also be the one to be like “I bet you can’t fit 20 marshmallows in your mouth” just to see if the other person would do it

• If they’d had dnd in Mycenaean Greece (and I’m aware I’m about to make dnd fans mad), she’d play a water-class sort of Druid, and I think she’d have fun as a rouge, putting most of her stats into things like investigation and deception. Chaotic lawful type alignment thing. I know very little about dnd

• Saying that she’s easily flustered would be a stretch, but she blushes every time Odysseus flirts with her. He’s just as bad and it turns into a competition to see who can get the other more flustered. Penelope wins

• Really wants to be closer with her family, but between her father once trying to kill her, the near-decade age gap between her and the sibling closest in age to her, and being the cousin while she’s closest to two sisters, she tends to feel distanced

• Sees Helen and Clytemnestra as nearly her own sisters before she gained Iphthime. Even after gaining a biological sister of her own, she hardly considers them as anything less

• Very protective of Iphthime. She trusts that her brothers will be alright, but she’s already lived through her father and Helen’s kidnapping, so she worries for her sister

• Has always been a little on the tall side. Not necessarily in a “tall queen Penelope x short king Odysseus” way, though I do find that idea charming. I like to headcanon Penelope and Odysseus as near the same height because I think it’d be a fun physical representation of homoprosyne :)

• Feels genuinely safe and comfortable around three people: Helen, Clytemnestra, and Odysseus. However, she was definitely more secretive around her cousins than she is around Odysseus

• Holds her tongue in public, for the most part, but once she and her husband are alone, he’s getting a play-by-play commentary. A steady stream of all of her impolite inside thoughts. He loves it

• She is so curious. All the time. She wants to know all the things all the time, but has worried on multiple occasions that her curiosity might put her in danger. That part of the Odyssey where Odysseus listens to the sirens for motivations that seem to stem largely from curiosity? Penelope’s the same way

• Setting up the loom to start a new project is her least favorite part of weaving and will procrastinate on it for days. It’s been pointed out to her that she could get someone else to do it but she refuses because that feels like cheating and also her pride won’t allow it

That’s all I’ve got for now

[thishazeleyeddemon]

Speaking as someone who rather likes it I think the biggest issue i have is it doesn't reckon with the Iliad

Like the Odyssey to me is fundamentally in a lot of ways the Sequel To The Iliad. In Epic the war is kinda just a backdrop but in the Odyssey it colors. Essentially everything about who Odysseus is. The Odysseus we see at the start of the Odyssey is off of Ten Whole Years of war. I get doing a like. Theme of ruthlessness with him and everything and I do enjoy it but I keep running up against the fact that Odysseus at the start of his journey has already made the decision to be ruthless. He's literally coming off of Ten years of war. he's already made that choice.

It also doesn't really talk about other interesting parts of his character like his Temper, the question of his identity, and I kinda feel it flattened his relationship with Penelope out

He loves her, he Does, but he also is very much capable of being a Danger to her if he came back and she'd remarried. He's jealous and manipulative and vengeful, they just happen to work together because she is too lol

I do like Epic but there is a lot to be desired in its characterization of him

slowly coming to the realization that the epic fandom has kind of tarnished my love for odysseus as a character

[ghostvibesonly]

THERE ARE OTHER WAYS DID NOT GO WHERE I WAS EXPECTING IT TO OH MY GOD /POS

PENELOPE’S THEME AND INSTRUMENT?? ODYSSEUS BEING QUITE LITERALLY BACKED INTO A CORNER AND HAVING SEEMINGLY NO OTHER WAY TO SAVE HIS MEN BUT STILL NOT BEING ABLE TO BRING HIMSELF TO GO THROUGH WITH THE ACT (EVEN THO IT WOULDN’T BE A TRUE ACT OF BETRAYAL BECAUSE THERE’S NO ACTUAL CONSENT ON HIS SIDE AND IT WAS SOMETHING HE WAS ABOUT TO BE COERCED INTO)??? CIRCE BEING TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF BEFORE AND BELIEVING THAT “BECOMING THE PUPPETEER” IS THE ONLY WAY TO KEEP HERSELF AND HER NYMPHS SAFE SO SHE OFFERS THIS “ACT OF PASSION” TO STILL HAVE A FORM OF CONTROL, AND THEN SEEING ODYSSEUS IS NOT LIKE THOSE BEFORE BECAUSE HE’S SO IN LOVE WITH PENELOPE (WHO HE HASN’T SEEN IN 12 YEARS) THAT HE REFUSES HER OFFER AND PLEADS BECAUSE IT’S NOT WORTH IT EVEN THO THATS THE ONLY OPTION HE’S BEEN GIVEN??? HIM CALLING HIMSELF A PUPPET MAKING HER REALIZE THAT THIS CYCLE OF ABUSE AND CONTROL ISN’T WORTH IT ONLY TO COME TO A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE TRULY IN LOVE AND TO BE HURT, SO SHE OFFERS HIM AN ACT OF KINDNESS INSTEAD???

“Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”

[epicthemusicalstuff]

This is a certified Penelope loving blog. I love her. So much. If you don’t like her… good luck. Anyways, Penelope ❤️!

[undercoverangell]

telemachus as a baby probably would have loved 2 yank on his dads beard and mustache... its usually within reach of his very short arms whenever hes being held. and his dad reacts in a way that is probably very funny 2 him.

[artiquar]

my dear penelope, we've twenty lost years of love to make up for.

[dootznbootz]

I've been seeing some shit on how certain folks apparently think it's like, surprising that Penelope just accepted Odysseus and all the stuff he's done without question and/or disappointment in Would You Fall in Love With Me Again when like... Not only against Odyssey!Penelope but ALSO Epic's. We may have only gotten 2 songs it's still a concept album. THERE'S STILL TIME! of the real Penelope in Epic but like, even then we can see that she's equally as wild

[sprnklersplashes]

I have seen the 'Odysseus is the little spoon' headcanon and I love it but I would like to take it further; Penelope sleeps practically on top of Odysseus, her hand wrapped around his wrist, because if anything wants to take him, it will have to go through her first.

[backpackingspace]

Okay so with the line "the olive tree where we first met" we have two equal hilarious options.

When penelope was sassily like oh I'll marry you if you make a living bed out of this tree right here! Cue penelope stumbling over odysseus very very carefully digging up the tree "because how else is he going to get it to itacha we can't have a wedding bed out in the open in sparta duh"

Or

2. Penelope, knowing that Helen's suitors would soon be arriving to take over her home for a while. Snuck out and went on her own wacky shenanigan filled journey where she scoped out all the major players. Odysseus caught her spying in an olive tree. And when she got back she told Helen she had dibs on the cutie from itacha.

[psychicsamlover]

Everytime I look at Telemachus I feel so much joy in my heart.

Like... He just fought a bunch of men who had been threatening him and his mother for years (and he didn't die! although he was very close to it). He didn't really want to hurt them (but he also chose a weapon that would allow him to fight groups of them at the same time), but he did it anyway because he had to.

He finally met his dad and cared more about not living up to his expectations than about the fact that he just saw someone's head being chopped off right in front of him by his dad (but hey that was a man who threatened to break his hands so that's okay).

And then his dad said "no more bullshit, you are the sweetest joy I've known, you're strong as you are, I love you so much and I can't wait to know you better".

And then he goes to tell his mother good news, they probably hug (as they should) and cry some happy tears before and after Odysseus and Penelope reunite (there's just so much happy crying in that palace).

And he also has a cool bestie goddess who's literally willing to die for him (honestly same) and will probably teach him more cool spear moves.

And look at him. He's so cute and badass at the same time. My favorite type of character. There's so much light and kindness in his eyes, but now we also know that he can "do whatever it takes to keep his *family* safe".

[melodyartist]

I started reading House of Odysseus by Claire North again, which I had dropped a long time ago, since the characters where really annoying and the way it was written bothered me too much, maybe it's the adaptation's fault idk, but you really have to turn off your brain to make it even minimally enjoyable... that's not even true !Because they still find a way to make me hate everyone, there is a big ass problem if I find Antinous less annoying than Helen and she is one of the "protagonists"

I gave it the benefit of the doubt several times but it's really not my cup of tea 😭(I'm halfway through it though...). But I must say that since I'm very biased I wanted to try and draw Menelaus from the book, based on the awful descriptions, that are not even coherent since in the first chapter he is described in such a way that he looks like a Minecraft character with big ass hands and in 10 chapters later he is described having a thin neck, so I took on some creative liberties

We are not gonna talk about the blacksmith comment... And the whole paragraph beneath that is all about his hands and piercing gaze

What can I say... there are parts where I like him for how he is portrayed but it's like 10% of the time. He's loud, arrogant, mean, hot headed and he is trying too hard to get Penelope's favour, a red flag who walks on legs that are thick as logs...sigh I guessed that's fine...

But there are scenes that he is in that have a nice comedic effect especially when he is serious... I think that those are not meant to be funny so that's an other issue