#penelope worship

[wisdom-devotee]

Can we get some info on Odysseus and Penelope??

Sure! I don’t know if this is in reference to this ask game or not, but I’m going to treat it like it is. If you have more specific info you’d like on them rather than my personal experiences, please let me know!

When Odysseus usually shows up for me

I found two main instances where I feel Odysseus’s energy a lot. The first is whenever his family are mentioned (I’ve found this to include Penelope, Telemachus, Ctimene, Laertes, Anticlea and Eurycleia) and the second is whenever I’m being clumsy

When Penelope usually shows up for me

Penelope is the one most likely to show up when I reach out to them both together. I’ve kind of noticed that if I ask to do things with both of them, like tarot, only Penelope will respond? If I ask for Odysseus specifically he’s usually there, but if I ask for both of them, only Penelope shows up. Not sure why but I’m not complaining

What Odysseus is like for me

I most often feel Odysseus as a pressure on my shoulder, almost like his hand? When I feel it I like to pat my shoulder to acknowledge his presence. I always get the feeling that he’s very amused by everything that I do. I reached out to both of them because I have a lot of long-distance friendships who are some of my closest relationships that I have and I’ve found both Penelope and Odysseus to really like them.

What Penelope is like for me

Her energy is really warm, but I haven’t noticed a particular feeling I get with her other than that. She’s very nice to communicate with and I love her. I’ve noticed whenever I’m talking about these two, an online friend messages me, and that actually happened while making this post too. Thanks guys

How much have I bonded with Odysseus

A lot. Mainly getting to know him through reading the Iliad (and when I finish it I will also read the Odyssey). Me and my sister made a joint offering to him and I think he really appreciated that one because it made me feel way closer to him

How much have I bonded with Penelope

I’ve bonded with her through communicating via tarot and it’s been so lovely! I don’t know if I’m as close with Penelope as I am with Odysseus, we’ve communicated more but it’s been smaller interactions if that makes sense? I’m trying to build the relationship up more though! I’m hoping to get thread for Christmas and learn to make friendship bracelets and I want to dedicate that to her. We’ll see how it goes!

The most shocking thing about Odysseus

Like I mentioned before, when I reach out to him and Penelope together, he doesn’t answer. It’s that quietness that’s surprising to me, I think.

The most shocking thing about Penelope

I don’t think there’s anything specific about Penelope herself that’s really surprised me, every experience I’ve had with her Just Makes Sense, but I do find that some of the alternate myths (not written by Homer) are really… interesting. The way some of them just disregard all of her odyssey characterisation? Weird. I do not like them.

The least shocking thing about Odysseus

His closeness with his family. I mean, of course, right? Don’t even really need to elaborate on that.

The least shocking thing about Penelope

How much her nymph genes play into my worship of her I think? I’ve always been really connected to water and I feel very connected to that part of her, so most of the things on her Pinterest board have nymph vibes and that was also the inspiration behind the image I used for her playlist cover!

My opinion about Odysseus

He’s so great. I’m really intimidated by him sometimes but then like whenever I actually feel his energy he’s so nice. I admire both him and Penelope so so much

My opinion about Penelope

Like I said with Odysseus, I really admire them. They’re really inspiring. I find Penelope to be so incredibly calming and I always feel more relaxed after communicating with her.

[starry-polytheism]

I also worship Penelope and Odysseus! I’d love to know what things you associate with them or any experiences you’ve had with them!

- @wisdom-devotee

i need you to know i saw this immediately after answering to your post- so I'll add whatever i forgot to add to yours!

as for associations, penelope is associated to white, blue, and purple while odysseus is associated with black, blue, and yellow for me!

my main devotional act for penelope is friendship bracelets, and i was having a real rough time trying to figure out a pattern i liked for odysseus' bracelet... until i realized im a fool, that odysseus wanted the same matching pattern that penelope has, just in his colors

penelope is quite a motherly presence, odysseus is not quite fatherly but im also much closer to his wife than i am to him, so we'll see on that!

i also really wanna make them a more proper shrine someday, but no luck with that yet :(

[sunnypaganblog]

Nightly reflection in honor of Queen Penelope!! (Since I'm gonna work with her/worship her—)

At the end of the day, nothing on Reddit truly mattered. Who cares if the people on Reddit don't support me? At least I have my friends. They listen when I ramble. They listen when I need to vent. They're here when I need them. I never needed Reddit. Maybe I was never cut out for it ever since I downloaded it. It got me into more trouble than anything else in the world.

I don't care how addicting it is. I'm gonna make it just fine without it. And you know what? That'll be my first act of worship in honor of Queen Penelope. Spending time away from Reddit and doing my own thing. I'm gonna do what brings me peace. No matter what.

[alexandroslocaldevotee]

31 Days Of Helpol: Day Four

Are there any deities you don’t currently worship but want to learn about?

Simple answer: Lady Athena

I already honour King Odysseus and Queen Penelope and I feel like if I were to add another god to my practice it would be her although for now I'm content with the ones I worship.

From everything I read she's a very interesting Goddess and I'd love to learn more about her!

[flwrkid14]

The Reincarnation of Romance

Tim doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in statistics, in probabilities, in cold, hard logic. He believes in data points and patterns and cause and effect.

Danny doesn’t believe in fate either. He believes in choices, in carving your own path, in standing at the precipice of the unknown and stepping forward anyway.

And yet—

There is something undeniably fated about them.

Something in the way Tim’s fingers trail along Danny’s wrist like he’s tracing the life thread of his own existence. Something in the way Danny says Tim’s name like a whispered prayer, like the world could crumble around them and it wouldn’t matter as long as they were together.

Something ancient, something timeless.

Tim doesn’t believe in past lives. And yet, when he looks at Danny, there is a familiarity that stretches beyond reason, beyond explanation. It’s in the way Danny leans into his touch like he’s done it a thousand times before. It’s in the way Tim worships him so openly, so effortlessly, without hesitation.

Like instinct. Like inevitability.

The family doesn’t know what to do with them.

Tim, whose love is all-consuming, who would burn the world to the ground if it ever so much as thought of harming Danny. Danny, who welcomes Tim’s obsession with the amused indulgence of a man who was clearly adored in another lifetime and carries the memory of it in his bones.

Danny sweeps Tim into his arms at a moment’s notice, presses kisses against his wrist with breathless adoration, waxes poetic about Tim’s brilliance, his beauty, his mind.

Tim, for his part, is indulgent. Amused. He watches Danny with dark, knowing eyes, lips quirked in a smile that betrays nothing but quiet satisfaction. He tilts his chin up just slightly when Danny kisses his hand, his wrist, the inside of his palm. A queen granting favor.

They move through the world as though they exist on some other plane, where every touch is sacred and every look is a vow.

They are impossible to be around.

“Mon amour,” Danny gasps the moment Tim steps into the room, eyes alight with an adoration that borders on worship. He strides forward, hands already reaching for Tim’s waist, his arms, anything he can hold.

Tim hums, tilting his head as Danny presses a kiss to the back of his hand. “Darling,” he murmurs, amusement dancing at the edges of his voice.

Jason groans. Steph makes a gagging noise.

“You were apart for five minutes,” Duke says flatly.

“Five minutes too long,” Danny insists, pressing his forehead dramatically against Tim’s shoulder. “The sun is cold without you, my love.”

Tim lifts a delicate brow, but his fingers still come up to tangle in Danny’s hair, slow and methodical. A caress disguised as nothing at all. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet, you adore me.”

A smile, small and sharp, curls at the edges of Tim’s lips. “A tragic truth.”

Cass watches them with knowing and amused eyes. Duke mutters something about how it’s “so much worse in person.” Damian looks between them with deep suspicion but diligently sketches the scene anyway.

And Bruce? Bruce has seen a lot of things in his life. He’s fought gods, stood against the impossible, watched the world bend and break and come back together again.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the reincarnation of Odysseus and Penelope manifesting in his own home.

Tim and Danny don’t care.

Tim is obsessed. Tim is devoted. Tim is utterly, ridiculously in love, and he makes sure Danny knows it every waking moment of his existence.

Danny basks in it.

They have done this before, in another life, in another time, and they will do it again in the next.

Because, for Tim and Danny, love is eternal.

[zarnzarn]

TW: jumping on the manwhore au but aftermath, discussion of S/A, read carefully.

Three weeks pass.

Odysseus is carried through them with ecstasy and joy, reuniting and grieving and laughing and rearranging.

But then everything settles down, and-

It was him who'd ordered it. Ordered owls to be carved into every free inch of Ithaka, coveted shipments of the secretive birds for his personal menagerie, sold trinkets in the market. Made no secret of who favoured them, when he had half the houses painted blue.

But now every step he takes in his own home haunts him.

He cannot so much as look to the side before feeling the urge to flinch away, shame growing inside of him until it chokes him up. Cannot look at any owls. Cannot look at any of his men.

("Well, if our captain can't think his way out of it, at least now we know talking filthy works just as well!" One of the men chortles, unaware of how Odysseus' blood had run cold, standing with his hand raised to knock.)

("This day, you've lost it all, consider this as my goodbye-")

("Come on, she's a beautiful, powerful lady! How bad could it really have been, Captain?")

("Captain?" Eurylochus whispers, as Odysseus wipes the blood off his mouth and reaches for his cloak. The ships are silent, even though the roar of the waves has left. Eyes stare at him from all directions, wide and-

Pitying? Horrified? Odysseus can't really tell.

"Full speed ahead," He says, voice ruined, and keeps his chin high as he hobbles back to his room.)

(When the sirens come, all he sees is Penelope. It is nice, at least, to know that he can discard the intrusive thoughts creeping in about natural reactions and forced pleasures.)

("Please- please don't do this, don't make me choose, I'll do anything-")

("Leave me the fuck alone, both of you. If Penelope does not take me back after all of this, it's her choice. But I have to get all of us off this island and it's better me than you.")

"Ody- Your Majesty!" Odysseus reaches into his robes, pulls out the whittling tool and the wood, busies himself as he walks. It's one of the younger men, the ones who'd barely been boys when they left. "Listen, we were wondering if- if you'd come join us at the festival! The- all of the men, really, we've been- heh- missing you since we now have to share you with the rest of the kingdom. We could- we could sing together? Like we used to?"

Athena's prayers.

"You go ahead," Odysseus murmurs, eyes on the carving. "Next time."

"But you didn't come for the last one either!"

"I have-" He hears his own sharp tone, stops and swallows to soften it. He was terrible to all of them, he knows, those last few days aboard the ship, rude and sharp and brutal like all the other royals, where he never was before. "I have work to do. Have a good day. I've heard the new hound stock is coming in today, you should see if you want a pet."

He ignores whatever is said in response, walking on. He wonders, darkly, what they think of him. Do they still think he enjoyed it? That it was a privilege to be had by gods?

("He won't speak to us!" One of them hiss that night, when the lad comes back sniffling and downcast, like all the others. They'd grown up with Odysseus, almost like younger brothers, and all of the younger ones were taking the sudden frigid silence hard. They all were. Somewhere they had lost their friend, left him behind without noticing, until only their king returned. "He cannot possibly think we think less of him for sacrificing so much, for- the gods are impossible to hold up against, he can't think we blame him for-"

"We don't know what he thinks," Polites says, pulling his head out of his hands and wrapping his arms around himself. "He doesn't even look at us."

The men around the fire are all silent.

"He has to know, right?" Someone whispers. "He has to.")

"What did happen on the trip back?" Penelope says, voice quiet, sitting next to him. He jolts. When did he reach their bedroom? "Something did. You have barely touched me since that first day."

Odysseus opens his mouth, but for the first time, he has nothing to say. What can he? She had known, the first second he had turned his eyes from her in shame, and yanked him back in anyway with eyes blazing like a lion, growling that she didn't care what he had to do to come back, as long as he had.

Odysseus doesn't feel like he has.

Penelope carefully takes the whittling knife away from him, as well as the spear he'd carved. "And you have not prayed, after your return."

(He had tried. Had walked right upto the temple steps when everyone was asleep, and then turned around and thrown up in a bush.)

"Have you heard the story of the high priestess Medusa?" He murmurs, staring at the wall. Watches the shadows dancing across. "Athena used to tell me about her. One of her favourite devotees. I never understood why she cursed her, when it was not her fault."

Penelope puts a hand on his shoulder. Both of them are shaking. She has seen the scars, the ones that glow beautiful and bright, left behind by each god who touched him.

"A gorgon, snake-woman, capable of turning anyone she looked upon to stone, gods and humans alike. No eyes upon her, ever again."

The breeze blows in.

"At the time, I thought it to be a curse." He whispers. Remembers the story of the way she had screamed in the temple bower for Athena's help, insane, at the feeling he knows now is violation of self and celibacy both; Athena's chosen, ripped away from one of their ways of worship by force. "Now I know it was a blessing."

"But-" Penelope swallows. "Perseus-"

"Was a mercy." He looks at the ground. "She was pregnant. She did not wish to be. Athena granted her so."

"The shield is to honor her," Penelope murmurs. "Not a trophy."

He hums.

"I-" Penelope starts, voice thick. "I remember when you asked. When we first got married. If I was fine with not being joined with you in bed often, as long as I was satisfied. Was it-?"

"Only her priestesses can have true celibacy, her devotees less, me lesser. I had a crown to continue, so Athena accepted a more lenient vow, when I became her student." He stares out at the sea, the sky. "But I had vowed. I had sworn." A half-sob escapes him, some delayed noise of grief. It feels far away now, and the scars have all healed, but he cannot move past the violation, the stares, the whispers. The shame of betrayal. "I had an oath, Penelope."

"It was not your fault," Penelope whispers, taking his hand like he will shatter like glass. "Poseidon seems to target all of Athena's people. If anything-"

"We fought," He says, turning his head to press his face to her shoulder, shuddering as he confesses it. Abandoned by his own god. "She left. Maybe this is her punishment, all the eyes, all the time. Paranoid that another Olympian will jump out of the shadows, do it again."

"Or," Penelope says after a long pause. "She does not know. Only one way to truly find out."

Odysseus considers.

"Could you," He swallows, throat clicking. "Could you get me- the things from my shrine?"

-

He does not expect her to actually arrive.

He shakes in front of her, for the first time, feeling small and foolish and broken. Wishes he could go back to being twelve, do it all over correctly. "Lady Athena," He says, as formally as he can. "I beg your forgiveness. Please- please, is there anything I can do to-"

"About time," She interrupts, bored. "Finally willing to concede that I was right?"

Odysseus feels bile rise in his throat. "Yes, goddess. I was- stupid, to ever consider otherwise."

Penelope's hand is clenched tight in his robes, kneeling with him.

"Good," Athena says, pleased. "A war well won, all things considered. Our glory will go down in the history books." A pause. "Why are you on the floor?"

"What?" He chokes out.

"You've never kneeled to me once, even when I've taken you out at the ankles, you impudent brat," She snorts. Odysseus feels his pounding heart freeze in his chest at the- fondness in her voice. Fondness. She is not furious with him, not unforgiving. "What, do you want something else-"

She knocks him on the head, flicking him on the forehead playfully- then freezes as he looks up at her. Goes completely still, and he knows she can see what they did to him.

Penelope's hand reaches out to steady him.

"Only your forgiveness, goddess," His voice breaks. "Only that."

-

After, Penelope holds him, crying silently herself as she wipes at his cheeks. Athena sits with her head in her hands, helmet removed, anger finally under control but completely silent. Just sits there at the edge of their bed, bent over, face buried in her own palms.

Finally, she straightens, inhaling. Turns to look at him. "You may not be alive to see it," She tells him, quiet and furious. "But this is their last transgression, I swear to you. I will find a way to get revenge. They will die."

"I do not-"

"They will die. And no vows have been broken." She hesitates, hand hovering over his ankle. Odysseus crumbles, nodding desperately, and nearly passes out at the relief of the familiar touch, sharp and cleansing, godly and unlike the chaos of all the others. "You need not apologise to me about that."

He sniffs, turning his face into Penelope's shoulder. It feels freeing, some latent relief that Athena finally sees him, understands, forgives. She is not the terrifying goddess so far removed, cold and cruel, that he was starting to think she truly might be; bowed over in grief and horror for him, like a friend- he just wishes this was not the reason why.

Her eyes are gold at the edges. Crying. Nauseated almost, at the fact that- her uncle. Her father.

"Would you-" Odysseus wheezes. His heart hurts still, for their fight, for what happened after, for how hard he knows she will take it. "Can you-"

"Anything, champion," She says softly, strained. Gives him a half-smile. "My friend."

"The wings-" He whispers, feeling stupid, but-

"Slow," Penelope murmurs, reaching out to steady Athena as she climbs in close. Her voice is wrecked. She does not say anything more.

Owl wings fold around him, not white or blue or pink, patterned and brown like the mud; home. Home.

"No one will see you," Athena murmurs, and her voice is wretched, but caring. "No one can see you. Peace."

"Peace," Odysseus repeats, and leans into them both, letting the darkness shroud around them like an embrace. Peace.

Home.

[wingedfoolnearthesun]

okay but have you considered if you would fall in love with me again???? if you knew all i’ve done???? the things i cannot change????? would you????? love me???? all the same??????

[stollssister]

Colin Bridgerton looking at Penelope Featherington as he remembers his trip to Cyprus, the sand bellow his feet as he gazed upon the sea where Aphrodite was birthed , almost expecting to see her as Botticelli's painting rising from the ocean, perfectly balanced on a giant shell, her long titian hair streaming around her.

[plumeriacosmos]

rewatching bridgerton and im going feral just thinking about how polin will be front and center,,,, and all the tension, the dance scenes, THE SEX SCENES, the dialogue that may happen once s3 is out like fndkdkdm

SOMEONE TAKE ME OUT OF MY MISERY

[lionwitch]

I've been listening to EPIC:The Musical on repeat for the last few days, and just so you know, I was this close to making one of my fics into a reincarnation fic (DC x EPIC. Especifically Epic and not The Odyssey because the whole fic revolves around music so it's fitting)

So the fic as it is is Tim being married to a woman named Wren, an OC. Together, they are musicians, they're a duo called Howling At The River, and their identities are hidden because Tim didn't want his parents knowing, so Tim is Wolfhart and Wren is Hummingwave.

They met when they were 5 and went from friends to lovers and ultimately eloped during the Brucequest, so his family doesn't know. It's not that he keeps it a secret, it's just that she's such an important and central part of his life that he thinks they know. They don't. They don't know he makes music either, because their identities are magically hidden and it hasn't been brought up.

It's a slice of life fic that I write in between my other fics to keep the creative juices flowing when I have none. It has no plot beyond the Batfam finding out Tim's married and is a relatively famous musician. Beyond that, it's slice of life and a bit of a ranting space because I gave her my disability so now when I'm in a flare, I write Wren in a flare, and she used to be a dancer but now she can't, because dancing was my dream and now I can't (though she did get training where I didn't get to). That's all there is to this.

I'm only two chapters in, and two drafts. So a lot can still change, so I almost made it a reincarnation fic.

Tim would be Odysseus, Wren would be Penelope. Not quite soulmates, not random people either. The Fates figured they made Odysseus suffer enough and took too much family time away from him, so they decided to reincarnate their souls over and over, but not in every lifetime did they find each other.

It is already stated in the first chapter that their meeting felt right, even if they were only five years old. Their love is beyond just love. It's adoration, worship, devotion. They're each other's whole world.

And then Ra's would take her.

And Tim would go full Odysseus on him. Full man-made monster. It's not a battle, it's a damn massacre, as Tim storms into Ra's base, slaughtering any and all assassins he finds. The rest of the Bats arrive a little late and go after him, following the trail of bodies, the absolute river of blood.

They try to stop him, because they don't kill. They'll get her back, just not like this.

Odysseus Tim is not having it. They took his Penelope Birdie. They're going to die.

And so he aims a bow he took from an assassin to them, to his family.

"Listen, I love you. But I love her more. And I will destroy anyone who stands in my way. So move, or I'll go through you." and he's not bluffing. There's no hesitation in his grip. If they try to stop him, they will get an arrow sent their way, whether it'd hurt them or end them isn't something they want to find out. So they let him through.

Meanwhile, Ra's has Wren tied up, and she's surprisingly unafraid. Maybe she's trusting that Tim will get to her. Or, Ra's thinks, maybe she's just stupid and naive.

He figures she can serve as training. There's a young prodigy, a preteen, son of assassins and raised as one as well. He follows orders, he's a natural at fighting, especially swords and bows. And so Ra's brings him forward and tells him to hurt Wren. Not kill—he wants her alive for now— but inflict pain on her.

The boy nods and unsheathes his sword. And then he looks into her eyes and he can't hurt her. He can't. It's not that he can't hurt people. It's not the fear in her eyes, or the lack of it. It's not the pity and compassion in her face. No, it's none of that. He can't put his finger on it, but he feels an unyielding loyalty towards her. He just met her, but he feels the need to protect her.

"Go on, boy."

But he can't. He can't. Ra's gets impatient, and he reaches for her, meaning to tug her up. The boy swings his sword.

Not to Wren. To Ra's. It makes a cut on his arm, superficial, but it's treason. It's a death sentence. Ra's draws his sword, disarms the boy, grabs him by the collar, and prepares to strike the boy down.

And then Tim storms in, shooting an arrow straight towards Ra's. He has tunnel vision right now, he sees red. He doesn't register the boy yet, he just wants Ra's gone.

The arrow misses him for a few inches, but it makes him flinch back and away from the boy, who immediately picks his sword back up, and instead of running, he fights off the other assassins that try to take Wren, while Tim fights Ra's.

Tim doesn't pull back this time. He stabs Ra's repeatedly (think Poseidon) and eventually cuts off his head. Will his death stick? Probably not. He then turns to kill the rest of the assassins, only to find most of them are already dead or wounded. He deals a final blow to the wounded ones and turns his sights on the remaining three assassins, two fighting one. An arrow to the throat takes one out, and the other's throat is slit by the young assassin.

Tim snarls, not trusting this assassin even though he killed the rest. The boy drops his weapons and raises his hands in surrender. He moves slowly, Tim's arrow aimed at his head the whole time as he leans down to take the keys to Wren's cuffs, telegraphing his moves.

"Why did you help her?"

"I don't know. I couldn't hurt her."

"Free her and run. Try anything and you're good as dead, kid."

"Yes, sir."

With slow moves, the boy gets on his knees before Wren, and his trembling fingers get the key into her cuffs. They fall to the ground, and he goes to open the ones on her ankles. Wren runs a hand through his hair.

And the world stops. For all three of them.

Memories of another life rush in. Of waiting, of fighting, of protecting. A husband, a wife, a child. A father, a mother, a son. Memories of days spent weaving, nights unthreading. Of a son protecting his mother from the suitors, of waiting for his father. Memories of fighting gods and ending lives to get to his family.

This is their son. Their Telemachus. Born on another age and to different parents, probably orphaned by Tim's hand, born halfway across the world, with another name, and only like ten years younger than them (they're 22), but their boy nonetheless.

Tim drops his weapons and they embrace. They're safe. Tim won't let anything happen to his son and wife.

"Telemachus..." Wren whispers, tilting the boy's chin up. The boy nuzzles into her palm.

"Mom..."

When the Bats catch up, Ra's is dead (at least for now) as are many other assassins, Wren is safe, and there's a twelve year old assassin being embraced by Tim and Wren.

"Who's that?"

"My son."

"...??? Tim you're twenty two."

"Hi, I'm Elliot."

"And he's my son, ages be damned."

"Ah, pulling a Bruce, I see you."

With their memories now awakened, Telemachus Elliot and Odysseus Tim are unbeatable. They have literally more than a lifetime of experience fighting, after all. Tim was always good, but now he's unstoppable. And he's the only one who can beat Elliot, though Dick is a tough challenge for the boy (not like he encountered many acrobatic-style fighters in Ithaca, or in the League)

Tim gets bolder with his strategies, no longer shy about them. He steps into Odysseus' leadership.

The boy eventually becomes a wolf themed vigilante. Not a bird because he doesn't answer to Bruce, he's not Batman's bird. He's his father's Little Wolf. Maybe Red Robin eventually changes to an owl themed vigilante (nod to Athena)

Father and son are unstoppable. They work with decades of teamwork, they move fluidly, reading each other's moves in a way no one else can.

And they speak Greek. They do so during patrol so that the enemy can't eavesdrop, or during planning, on instinct. They speak Greek between them when they're just hanging out, and they speak Greek with Wren when they want.

Speaking of Wren, they treat her like a Queen. Tim always has, she's his everything. But Elliot started treating her like royalty as soon as he got his memories. He makes her tea, reads to her aloud, and protects her like a loyal guard.

He's very protective of her when it comes to men. If anyone is even remotely creepy to her, he's going all out on them. Tim does so by ruining their lives and exposing their secrets, because he's better adapted to this lifetime. But Telemachus? The boy who had to listen to his mother's suitors talk about abusing her? The boy who guarded his mother's door with his life because if he didn't, they'd use her? He's not having any of it this time around.

One day, while Tim is at work, Elliot and Wren go to a mall. He insists on carrying her bags, even though she can do it. People assume he's her little brother, because again, she's 22 and he's around 12.

At some point, his gaze lingers on a toy section of a store, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't want to leave his mom or make her wait. Luckily, she doesn't need to be told. She notices his longing gaze and encourages him to go check the toys out and get some if he wants while she checks out some clothes. It takes a little convincing, but eventually he agrees.

When he comes back, an owl plushie cradled in his arms, he sees a man ignoring Wren's boundaries and personal space. She repeats that she's married, asks him to leave her alone. He doesn't listen, and instead he reaches to grab her waist. Telemachus sees red.

The toy drops to the floor as he lunges at the man, landing a solid hit to his jaw. That usually would be enough for him, but this guy harassed his mom (just like them). He keeps hitting the man, and Wren knows it's a matter of time before security is called and they're escorted out, probably getting into trouble if he continues.

"Elliot, stop." he doesn't hear her, bringing down hit after hit "Elliot, that's enough!" but he's zoned in, the man pinned to the floor receiving the beating of his life.

"Telemachus!" she snaps. The boy snaps to attention and hurries to get off the man, getting into a soldier position, his focus on his mother, his Queen. He ignores as the man scrambled to his feet, but snarls in his direction as he hears a "crazy bitch" muttered. Wren leans down and picks up the discarded toy, and hands it to him.

"Thank you for defending me, sweetheart. I appreciate it. Let's just not get arrested, hm? Come on, kid."

When they tell all this to Tim, he high-fives his son. When Jason finds out, he buys him candy.

He's the kind of boy that holds other men accountable. Rape jokes and comments do not fly with him. He has and will punch guys twice his size for making those sorts of comments. "What was she wearing?", "she was asking for it", "shouldn't have been out/drunk/alone", "did she say no?", "playing hard to get" and comments of the sort are all one-way tickets to his shit list and probably the hospital, depending on if you double down or apologize.

Elliot is the kind of boy you'd trust with your drink at a party. The kind that covers them and hunches around them, glaring at anyone who comes close.

Also, from his late teens onwards, he acts as a sort of bodyguard for any girl who might need it. It started with a friend of his sitting next to him and asking if he'd do her a favor.

"So, you're... Intimidating."

"Oh? Oh! I'm sorry. Do I make you feel unsafe? Because I would never hurt you, and if it's something I do, please tell me and I'll-"

"No, a good kind of intimidating. The kind that wards off creepy guys. Look, I just, my little sister has a party she has to go to, and there might be a boy there that won't leave her alone. I was wondering if you could accompany her, make sure she's safe? I'll pay you! I can pay you by the hour, I don't care how much, I just want my sister safe and—"

"Hey, stop. Yes, I'll do it. I'll keep her safe. I charge one origami star per hour though." he jokes, because that specific friend makes origami stars all the time and he likes them.

And he goes to Jason to play up the whole "scary guy" vibes. And at the party, the boy approaches the girl, and Elliot looms behind her, and he leaves her alone.

He doesn't like parties, they overstimulate him, but he goes as a bodyguard to his friends so they can enjoy without creepy men. Sometimes he returns home with blood on his knuckles, and it's not his.

Also, just so you know, these two also kind of adopt Bart (who I made five years younger than Tim because creative liberties) and he and Elliot have a funny relationship because while Bart is older than him, Elliot can sometimes behave like the old soul he is. So they're in an eternal circle of "I'm the older sibling", "No, you're not", so they settled on twins.

Anyway, that was the idea I had. But I highly doubt it'll happen, because those who are reading the fic are there for wholesome interactions, not adventure, and they're there for Tim, not for Odysseus and Penelope. Also, I have never written action and I don't know if I could truly write the whole League of Assassins part the way it should be written.

[theking-mustdie]

plus-size sex scenes are so important in media thank you nicola all hail our queen🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

[wisdom-devotee]

My classics teacher was talking about Penelope in the Odyssey, called her the best woman in all of Greece, and the way I could feel Odysseus’s energy just so much. Couldn’t stop smiling.

[starry-polytheism]

Hear me, Odysseus and Penelope, favored mortals of Athena and clever rulers of Ithaca!

Odysseus, who for twenty years was lost from his home, going through every trial to return to his wife and son, I sing your praises! You, who confronted the witch Circe and survived the siren's song!

Penelope, witty and resourceful queen, highest among the women, I sing your praises! You, who on your own raised Telemachus, and who with her brain kept her suitors at bay!

So, hear me, oh wise King and Queen, help me along my path, and I will continue to sing of you and your tale.

(a little prayer to odysseus and penelope!)

[alexandroslocaldevotee]

Listening to music with Odysseus and Penelope after a long day <3

[blue-lotus333]

Heroine Worship guide (?)/suggestions

(pt 1)

(for hellenic polytheist who want to worship heroines)

Penelope

Heroine of loyalty, commitment, intelligence, weaving, patience & shrewdness. The Queen/patroness of Ithaca, the cunning weaver.

Libations: Tea, water, coffee, milk, wine, olive oil.

Food suggestions: grapes, rice, baked goods, sweets, olives, figs, raisins, cakes, bread, plums, bananas, fish, mulberries, broth, legumes, pears, barley, etc.

Other Offerings: flowers, lamps, candles, incense, poetry, art, weaving offerings, jewelry, oils, images of looms, music, weaving needles, yarn & olive branches.

Devotional acts: helping others, studying, learning how to weave, Literary Tribute, crafting, Journaling, charity.

Crystals (optional): Amethyst, lapis lazuli, garnet, clear quartz, opal, selenite.

Colors: white, gold, purple, blue.

Sacred animals: swan, dogs, duck & spider.

Symbols: crown, the loom, ducks, water, yarn.

Titles: Queen of Ithaca, the weaver, the faithful wife, the soul of loyalty, sensible queen, The prudent woman, heroine of the odyssey.

Other names: Penelopa, Arnacia, Arnaea, Ameirace.

Helen of Sparta

Heroine of beauty, love, charm, desire, marriage & Divine Favor. The Queen/patroness of sparta, the face that launched a thousand ships.

Libations: Tea, water, wine, milk, juice

Food suggestions: apples, cherries, sweets, baked goods, figs, lychees, strawberries, honey cakes, grapes, peaches, honey, barley, broth, pomegranates, etc

Offerings: lamps, candles, incense, poetry, art, makeup, rose water, music, flowers, crown charms, jewelry, gold, mirrors, perfume, oils, & combs.

Devotional acts: self care/love, personal beauty rituals, helping others, dressing up for her, dancing, reflection, & study feminist history and women’s roles in the ancient world.

Crystals (optional): rose quartz, pearl, ruby, moonstone, spinel, Rhodonite.

Colors: Pink, gold, yellow, red.

Sacred animals: Swan, goose, doves, pigeons

Symbols: mirror, swans, the apple, crown.

Titles: Queen of sparta, the most beautiful woman in the world, the face that launched a thousand ships, daughter of Zeus, brilliant among women, mistress of sunlight.

Other names: Helena, Argive, leukolenos, eukomos.

Medea

Heroine of magic, magical practice, reconsideration, poisons & requital. Priestess of Lady Hecate, the Princess/sorceress of Colchis

Libations: Tea, water, coffee, milk, wine, olive oil, gin

Food suggestions: baked goods, sweets, figs, mulberries, blackberries, Blood Oranges, mushrooms, olives, honey, pomegranates, plums, juniper berries, etc.

Other Offerings: flowers, lamps, candles, incense, poetry, art, herbs, bronze, coins, snake imagery, wands, music, dragon imagery, bones, artifacts of witchcraft.

Devotional acts: study & practice magic, Acts of Empowerment, creating spells of justice, Journaling, Meditation.

Crystals (optional): Obsidian, black tourmaline, Labradorite, onyx, bloodstone.

Colors: black, purple, red.

Sacred animals: snakes & dragons

Symbols: Golden Fleece, the chariot of Helios, snakes

Titles: Vengeful Maiden, Priestess of Hecate, She Who Knows All Herbs, Princess of Colchis, Daughter of the Sun and Moon.

Other names: polypharmakos, doloessa, Anguitia, Angitia

Atalanta

Heroine of speed, independence, Athleticism, equality & challenges. Devotee of lady Artemis, the Princess of Arcadia.

Libations: water, milk, wine, olive oil.

Food suggestions: baked goods, sweets, figs, black berries, pork, pears, papaya, mangoes, lime, apples, meat, plums, broth, fish, almonds, vegetables, etc.

Other Offerings: flowers, lamps, candles, incense, poetry, art, boar hide, music, boar charms, plants, laurel, medals, bow & arrow imagery, lion imagery.

Devotional acts: foot-racing, working out, hunting, learning self defense, Personal Challenges, trying out on sports & athleticism.

Crystals (optional): jasper, moss agate, iron, tigers eye, carnelian.

Colors: green, brown, dark blue, orange.

Sacred animals: boar, lion & bear

Symbols: Golden apple, boar, lion, bow & arrow

Titles: Member of the Argonauts, princess of Arcadia, devotee of Artemis, the swift-footed huntress, equal in weight, she who toils greatly.

Other names: N/A

(Btw, like I’ve pointed out many times, these are just suggestions, ofc u can honor them how u want to honor them.)

[wingedfoolnearthesun]

listening to my mother sing “penelope whyyy you know im too shy” on repeat was not something on my 2024 bingo card