Just starting to read The Odyssey and thought of how Andromache's fear for Astyanax's future basically became Telemachus's reality.
In The Iliad, after Hector's death, Andromache imagines the life their son Astyanax will face growing up fatherless.
"Think, even if he escapes the wrenching horrors of war against the Argives, pain and labor will plague him all his days to come. Strangers will mark his lands off, stealing his estates... he hangs his head low, humiliated in every way... his cheeks stain with tears and pressed by hunger the boy goes up to his father's old companions... But then some bully with both his parents living beats him from the banquet, fists and abuses flying: 'You, get out—you've got no father feasting with us here!' And the boy, sobbing, trails home to his widowed mother...'"
- Book 22, Line 572-587
In this society, a child's status comes from their father and family line. Without that protection, they're vulnerable, socially humiliated, and pushed to the side. It's a life where everyday is a survival.
Then look at Telemachus in The Odyssey.
Odysseus has been gone for twenty years, and his son grew up without a father to defend him, Penelope, or their household. The suitors devour his inheritance, mock his authority, and prey on his mother. Ithaca is in the claws of bullies, and the rules of Xenia have been perverted.
Nestor's son, Peisistratus, describes it as such:
"When a father's gone, his son takes much abuse in a house where no one comes to his defense. So with Telemachus now. His father's gone. No men at home will shield him from the worst."
Book 4, Line 181-184
Andromache's nightmare for Astyanax is playing out in another house entirely, specifically one belonging to the man who murdered her son.
War stripped both boys from a childhood that they deserved.
The difference, however, is that in the end, Telemachus does get something Astyanax never will: his father's return.
stop mixing up Odyssey and EPIC. This is not hate on the musical btw, it just the people in there are totally different from their counterparts.
It's like that kid who thought George Washington was the first black president because of Hamilton.
Odysseus and Odysseus are two people with the same name who happened to go through similar events with different outcomes and consequences to their personality.
Same for Telemachus.
And so, so same for Antinous. That's a whole different species, it's like comparing a banana and a carrot.
Chapter warning: !!SMUTTTTTT 18+!! And bloody smex
Overall story tropes: Slow burn, best friends to lovers, eventual and occasional smut/PWP, fluff
Story Synopsis: Found here in chapter 1
The Blood We Shed
Telemachus x reader/you (first person pov)
Type: Slow burn, best friends to lovers, smut, blood as lube
Synopsis: Telema
Only 3 mortals stand tall among 108 bodies.
The palace is silent aside from our challenged breathing and the dripping of blood.
Odysseus takes a last scan over the room. It’s hard to tell if he does this to spot any possible survivors or because he wants to bask in the fruits of his labor a little while longer. Now that he’s sure there’s no remaining threats, his gaze falls on Telemachus.
He gently puts down his weapons while making his way across the room. His face is the polar opposite of what we’d seen. His eyes are still sunken in with dark circles surrounding them…
But they’re soft…genuine.
He lets loose his hood so Telemachus can see his face.
“Son...”
There’s no doubt in his voice, no hesitation. This was the child whom had been fighting off men and monsters for.
He saw his own flesh and blood in the boy's beautiful brown eyes the moment he met them.
In a world where Odysseus didn’t become the man that he is today, he would’ve said his boy is his spitting image–a deadringer, really. But alas… Telemachus is bright… And he’s is not that man anymore…
“Father,” his son says as those brown eyes shine with excitement and pricking tears.
Telemachus half-walks-half-runs to meet him in the middle. He stares in sheer disbelief. He had tried for so long to envision what he might look like, and now he doesn’t have to. He struggles to speak,
“…All my life I’d have died to meet you…” He says with emotion swelling in his voice.
Odyssey’s eyes soften more so.
He’s looking into the grown face of what was once his small child before those 20 long years. Images of the ages he never got to witness flash in his mind.
His first steps, his first words, his first fight…Every birthday he’d missed. He sees all of it fly before him.
Athena is looking in wonder from the sidelines. Ares is bewildered by the violent change in tone. It renders him curious.
To give them their space, the pair vanish from the mortal plane. Athena is warmed by the reunion…She’ll return to them soon enough.
“I’d have given anything to know you...I dreamt for so long what it might be to know you beyond the likes of your name…” Telemachus chokes back tears,
“…And now you’re here…”
Odysseus is rendered completely defenseless. Even if he tried to imagine the feelings he was experiencing right now, he would never be able to.
Telemachus continues,
“I’ve always wondered if we’re like each other…If I have your strength… if you could see yourself in me…”
Odysseus interjects,
“My boy, look how much you’ve grown…” his voice quivers as he tries to find the right words.
“My darling, strong boy… the sweetest joy I’ve ever known…”
His eyes sparkle as he continues to speak,
“I was never around to see you become the man you are today. And for that I will live a lifetime of regrets…” Odysseus says, with a trembling smile.
“The time I suffered away from you has nearly killed me… You’re everything I could possibly imagine and more, my son.”
His voice cracks,
“I can only imagine the things you yourself have suffered… the trials you’ve gone through…”
“Father, how I’ve missed you!” Telemachus exclaims, no longer able to hold back his tears.
“Telemachus…” Odysseus cups his son’s face in his calloused hands. He feels the tears run down his cheeks.
“…I’m finally home.”
Telemachus throws his arms around his father, making him stumble backward with the force of it. Odysseus holds him dearly—tightly enough that no man dead nor alive could unclasp his grip on the boy.
He’s home.
They embrace, heads on each other's shoulders. Telemachus grips his tunic tightly and softly sobs into his father’s shoulder.
I watch from a ways back, feeling my own tears faintly roll.
Unbeknownst to me, Alekos and a guard had come to stand in the doorway to the aftermath.
My friend joins me and puts a hand on my shoulder. He keeps it there as a token of comfort and watches with me.
After some time, they part.
Odysseus finally takes notice of me and his servant.
“Tell my wife I’m home.” He kindly directs Alekos,
“I’ll be there in a moment.”
He watches as he and the guard depart for Penelope’s room. He looks at me, then gives a questioning look to Telemachus.
“Oh—!” Telemachus exclaims, a tad flustered that he’d forgotten my presence in the past couple minutes spent catching up. He stumbles over his words,
“That’s my friend Lyra…I’m sure you saw.. Um,” he rambles. He’s not sure how to navigate his reunion with Odysseus AND the whole word-vomit confession bullshit from earlier.
“...saw her fighting by my side—She made sure mother was safe too! I’d love for you both to meet properly,” he says.
Odysseus nods and gives me a small and genuine smile—the kind that seems to know something.
“I would love to. You two seem… close.”
He shares the same look with Telemachus. He ruffles his hair lightly and goes forth to the bed chambers, leaving us alone in the middle of the large room.
Tlemeachus turns red and looks away, then he takes a moment to really take in the aftermath of it all…
There’s red running out of necks, stomachs; everything. Men filled with holes and gashes litter the palace. His blush from earlier faded quickly as he was reminded of where he is and what carnage there is.
We mutually decided to walk silently through the palace to see what kind of shape we’d left the other rooms.
Some of the men lay on top of one another. In some areas, there are fewer wasted than in others.
In the great hall, you can faintly hear drops of blood slowly hit the floor, echoing throughout, tapping rhythmically. There’s thick puddles of it; and some messy hand prints. Gore has found its way into every corner of the room,
I’m in awe, just taking it all in…. It’s almost… arousing.
What had previously been a boisterous hall of drunken, loudmouth wannabe rapists and killers and is now a sullen and hollowed room.
We stand there close together and mesmerized by the sight in front of us… There’s no longer any kind of threat. And with Odysseus home, I doubt there will be any of the likes again.
The air smells metallic. You can almost taste it. The room is full of a thick and heavy feeling.
I look at Telemachus.
His clothes are entirely ruined with blood—as are mine—His chiton has tears, revealing skin and mild wounds… which I’m sure I’ll be fixing later.
My eyes follow the string of rips in his tunic, taking in the exposed bits of his chest and thighs.
Fucking hell.
His skin is splattered; blood drips from some of his own injuries too.
Thanks to the high from the whole ordeal, he can’t feel the pain at this point even if he wanted to.
I reach out hesitantly to trace one of his wounds through the torn fabric to test how bad it is and get a better feel for it. His body tenses at my touch.
I look at him, worrying about the injury at first— until I see his expression isn’t one contrived of pain.
His pupils are blown and his complexion is completely flushed. His breathing has gotten significantly heavier with the contact.
Fucking hell.
The leftover adrenaline flows heavily in my bloodstream…I feel warmth rushing between my legs; and I feel myself losing my mind.
Telemachus’ hand twitches open—a tell that he’s feeling anxious or antsy—or maybe something else. I don’t think it’s anxiety, but… excitement.
I know that tic is not nerves from the killing.
There it is. There’s that tension in his body.
SMUT WARNING
I quietly look at his tremored hand knowing what’s going through his head is exactly what’s going through mine; and when I look at his face… He’s hardly the same sweet, innocent, sometimes sheepish boy that I know and love. This is someone I hadn’t yet met… But someone I’d love to get to know.
My heartbeat is thumping so loudly in my ears that I wonder if he can hear it... Or feel it in my touch—my hand hasn’t moved from him— it’s planted in place.
The silence between us is deafening.
I take in the way his chest rises and falls prominently… how his eyes are darker, how his lips part.
I can barely hear it, but his breath starts to quiver as he takes in shaky inhales.
Our eyes are locked—both of us are waiting.
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly puts his hand on mine and presses it into his chest.
It’s enough.
I crash my lips into his.
He doesn’t even consider hesitating before he’s kissing me back heavy.
I wrap my arms around his neck and he grabs me by my hips with aggression, moving his lips in perfect tandem with mine.
His kiss is rough. Dripping with lust and need. He backs me into a gore covered pillar—making me groan desperately. My back arches into him as I moan into his mouth. He growls and tightens his grip on me in response.
He pulls the small of my back into him so that our bloody bodies are as pressed together as they can be.
He needs me.
Desperately, he pulls my tunic so that it’s bunched up right below my breasts. He slips his hand into my undergarments, all the while never letting his lips escape mine.
I shutter at the feeling.
“Fuck you’re wet,” he mumbles into my lips as his fingers start to massage my heat. His words are met with a moan as I buck my hips lightly as a means to get more friction.
I’m so turned on that any and every touch is extremely stimulating. Everything Telemachus does to me sends a chill down my spine.
He plays with my clit, trailing his fingers up and down, teasing me with such a slow pace.
I whimper, needing more.
His response is to sharply push me further into the cold pillar to get a better angle. He teases a fingertip into my entrance. Before the frustrated groan could even pass my lips, he shoves two fingers inside me.
“Fu—Fuck!” I cry out.
He buries them deep, twisting and turning roughly, his actions determined to please me. His face is in my neck, leaving wet kisses and love bites.
I squeal in pleasure as he hits my g-spot. His fingers glide in and out of me, pushing in and up, causing the pressure to build.
He presses into my body more, begging to get closer and feel every inch of my soft skin. I shove him off me and grab his tunic before I tear it off. Leaving only his undergarments on him.
“Take this shit off of me,” I demand.
His smile is borderline sinister as he heeds my words. Gods I’ve never seen him this way, it’s so strange… but damned if it doesn't do something terrible to me.
Both of us make quick work of our clothes. Telemachus grabs me with possession as he picks me up and carries me to Antinous’s body.
He lays me down across the man and forces his lips onto mine in a sloppy, hard kiss.
He rips off the last of my small clothes.
Telemachus throws aside his undergarments as well in one fluid motion. I finally get to see him for the first time…
And by the gods…
He’s huge.
In my daydreams of him, he definitely had some length to him… but gods, I didn’t expect that kind of girth.
The way he’s looking at me…
He’s needy… so, so needy.
With my permission, he’d lined himself up now. I bite my lip wondering if I should say anything…
“Do you want this?” He asks, trying to hide the urgency in his voice so I don’t feel any pressure to say yes.
“Tel,” I start breathlessly, “Do you remember that conversation we had about our sex lives…?”
It had been a conversation from maybe a year ago, I forget how it came up. But I do remember how shy he got about it.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he smiles sheepishly, his demeanor faltering.
I whimper at the feeling of him still being so close to fucking me. My body is hardly able to take my arousal,
“…I’m still a virgin.”
He stops for a moment, then his eyes soften.
He’s glad that I’ve taken him as the one to give my innocence to… He’s happy that we get to figure this out together—He’d always hoped his first time would be with me.
“I am too…” he admits a bit embarrassed.
“In all honesty…I was holding out for you… You think there wasn’t a reason I never took my mother’s options for me seriously?” He rests his forehead on mine,
“She’s not the only one who’s good at stalling~”
He says, moving to kiss my neck gently.
I take my hand to where I know he wants it the most and stroke him slowly. I feel him shutter against me.
“You’re a problem,” I chuckle.
“You make me want you too badly.”
Telemachus removes himself from the crook of my neck to look into my eyes.
“Would you like me to stop teasing?”
“Absolutely. But—can we start out slower? Just until I can adjust?”
He places a kiss on my forehead,
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. The last thing I want is to hurt you.” He reassures me and places a single kiss on my lips.
“We can stop entirely if it’s too much.”
“Fuck no– I can take you. I don’t care how long we need to make it happen,” I say, extremely determined.
His expression is soft–which is a stark contrast to our surroundings. One of the hands he’s propped up on is in a pool of Antinous’ blood.
He nods, knowing I’m too stubborn to not try.
He crawls over my body, falling back into the disposition he’d set aside previously. His eyes take in my body like a predator.
For a few strokes, he teases my pussy. Tracing my clit. He wants to make me as wet as possible for a painless entry.
He eases the tip in ever-so-slowly—studying my face for signs of discomfort—so far so good.
My face is flushed and my body is aching. He can see it…he knows I need it.
He pushes in with an inch or two.
I can’t hide my wince as much as I’d like to.
He carefully pushes in another inch. Even with how wet I am, a hiss of pain escapes me.
He stills.
“Hey, hey… look at me,” he whispers, his eyes are more nurturing.
In tracing his thumb on my cheek, he accidentally smears some blood on the spot—he ignores it though as I don’t seem to care.
“I’m gonna play with you a little, see if we can’t get you a little more ready for me, yeah?” He offers with a comforting smile.
I nuzzle my face into his shoulder.
“Please…I want to keep going…”
Switching to his clean hand, he applies light pressure to my clit, rubbing circles with intention on the right spot he’d found effortlessly somehow.
He does this for a while, listening to my whimpers and moans for clues on how he should touch me.
I’m well wet now.
He looks at me to ask if it’s okay.
I respond by putting my hands around his neck as a brace.
He carefully attempts a few inches again. It’s quite a bit easier—But I’m still tensed in anticipation and he realizes this. He kisses me and plays with me to loosen the pressure.
He leans in into my ear, “You’re doing so well~”
I smile, still squirming a little bit as he pulls back and pushes maybe three more inches in. I kiss him and hold him tight; then there’s more pain.
“Breathe, love….” He strokes my hair reassuringly.
He eases another inch or two in and feels my body seize.
“Do you want to stop?” He asks with clear concern.
“NO!” I say quickly, giving him no time to argue.
He knows it hurts…He considers the options…
“Maybe you just need to be more lubricated…” Telemachus trails off.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLOOD KINK stop reading here if it’s too freaky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He takes his hand to the still weeping hole in Antinous’ neck. He holds up two fingers coated in the liquid in front of his face, observing the consistency. He looks at me expectantly.
I stare at his fingers with wide eyes.
He spoons some more into his hand and coats his cock in it—applying some to my pussy— fingering its way inside me and making me groan and shiver.
Under his watchful eyes, my body relaxes, responding well to his touch.
He fingers me with care, getting rougher when he can tell it’s what I want. Once he has 4 fingers deep inside, he knows I’m ready.
“Are you—?”
I nod, eyes fluttered shut,
“Please~”
He gets the first two inches in with ease, no painful reaction from me. In fact, by the way I’m clenching around his dick, he knows I really don’t mind.
He smiles contentedly. He sees the way I’ve begun bucking my hips in a trance of need, clearly the pain has been replaced with full on desire now. He watches as I allow most of his length. “You’re almost full—Do you want me all the way in?”
“Yesss~” I breathe, there’s no pain anymore; pleasure is all I know.
He beams at me, then pulls back, and enters me fully until he hits a wall.
Again he pulls back—almost all the way out before pushing his cock inside of me as far as possible. I moan at the feeling of having my tight pussy filled so completely.
“You like that don’t you?” Telemachus grins,
I bite my lips and close my eyes.
He realizes he can move a little faster. His confidence increases as my continued groans of pleasure escape me.
He growls in my ear with a Cheshire smile,
“You like using all that blood to get yourself nice and wet so you can be stuffed properly?”
His thrusts are growing to be especially hard, knowing I can take it rough.
All I can do is moan in response to his filthy words.
He nips at my ear, breath making me quiver,
“Love feeling me up in your guts?”
“If you don’t fuck me harder I swear to Zeus—~“
He immediately gives me what I want and begins slamming into my body violently.
He pulls out and flips me around, pushing me so that my face is down and my ass is up. He grabs my hips like they’re handles and pulls me into him harshly, exchanging his prior grip for one that pulls my hair. My head is forced up while my back has no choice but to arch against him.
I realize that I’m dripping down my thighs.
He fucks me brutally.
My eyes roll back in ecstasy and I pull myself so my weight is on my hands—which are on either side of the Antinous—making me curve into Telemachus’s chest. He pulls my hair harder so I’m even more bent into him, he leans into my ear and whispers,
“Come on…come on…~”
I growl and nuzzle my face into his from where he’s hunched over and pounding me harder.
My moans turn into pants and huffs,
I make my hips meet his with every move.
“Take it like a good girl~ that’s it~”
He fucks me until I’m completely ruined—my hair is disheveled and my sounds are coming out more primal than anything human—he’s ramming into my cervix.
He grips my chin in his blood stained hand. By now he’s left so many bloody fingerprints on me you can almost see every single spot he’s laid his hands.
“Mmpfh~!!”
My moans have turned into cries with his ruthless pace. The entire hall echoes with the sound of his body hitting mine. My cries and his grunts join in the symphony.
Holy shit that alone has me on the edge.
“Telemachus—fuck—“
“Come on sweetheart~ come on~” He feels himself getting close but he’s determined to make me to cum first.
His movements have to have some sort of divine influence because there’s no way in hades that he can keep going harder and harder like this. I’m just about at my breaking point.
Then I feel his warm breath against my ear.
“Cum for me, love~”
That last word does me in.
I fall apart almost instantaneously, feeling ecstasy I’ve never imagined possible.
I tighten around him and cry out as my orgasm takes a hold of me.
That was all it took for his to hit him.
He pulls out just in time to turn me on my back cum on my quivering stomach.
The warmth of it only adds to the rippling pleasure that’s overtaken me. My moans turn into whimpers as my energy depletes.
Telemachus lays down next to me, not letting his embrace with me fail. We stay like that for a moment, exhausted and satisfied. He turns his head to look at me, still trying to catch his breath, his grin spans his rosey cheeks.
“You seemed to really enjoy that~”
I hardly try to contain my laughter,
“Shut up~” I say as he presses a soft kiss to my mouth
