aikokoko33

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺, 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇I have no motivation to write but I'm doing this for my friend

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓼𝓲𝔁

The palace was quiet under the silver glow of the moon, the halls bathed in shadows as Pandora slipped out of her room, bare feet padding softly against the cool stone floor. She wasn’t doing anything wrong—she was allowed to grab a snack if she wanted.

And right now, she needed one.Her stomach had been grumbling for over an hour, and after tossing and turning in bed, she finally decided to do something about it. Making her way toward the kitchen, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw the leftover bread and honey still sitting on the table.

Perfect.

She sat down, enjoying the peaceful stillness of the night as she took a bite.

Everything was fine.

Everything was—

“Ah—Telemachus—!”Pandora choked on her food.

She froze, ears perking up as another very loud sound echoed through the halls.“Vairya—fuck—”Her spoon dropped.

Oh.

Oh, no.

It was coming from their room. Pandora squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she was imagining it.

Maybe she was dreaming.

Maybe—

“Harder.”

Nope. Nope, she was awake. Very, very awake.Her appetite was dead. Murdered. Brutally slain.She groaned, dropping her head onto the table.

“Why me?” she whispered to no one in particular.

Another particularly enthusiastic moan reached her ears, and that was it.

She was done. Done with the night, done with her snack, done with life.She practically ran back to her room, pulled the blanket over her head, and prayed to every god she could think of to erase her memory.

——

Pandora looked—well.

Dead.

She trudged into the main hall, dark circles under her eyes, her entire body moving like she was a cursed soul wandering the underworld.

She barely noticed when she sat at the breakfast table, barely acknowledged anyone’s greetings.

Then, a voice—his voice—spoke up.“Well, well, well,”

Vairya drawled, smirking over his cup of wine. “Someone looks like they had a rough night.”

Pandora snapped her gaze up, glaring daggers at him. “Don’t.”

Vairya leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “What’s wrong? Did you not sleep well?” His smirk grew, eyes glittering with amusement.

Pandora clenched her jaw. “I hate you."

“Oh? But why?” He feigned innocence, though the laughter in his tone betrayed him.

Telemachus, sipping his drink beside him, glanced between them. “…What’s happening?”

Vairya sighed dramatically. “Poor Pandora had a very unfortunate midnight experience.”

Pandora slammed her head against the table with a groan. “I just wanted a snack.”

Vairya cackled.

“Oh, gods.” Telemachus set his cup down, realization hitting him. “Vairya.”

“What?” Vairya grinned. “It’s not my fault we’re enthusiastic.”

Pandora groaned louder. “I never should’ve left my room.”

Vairya shrugged, smug. “Lesson learned.”

Telemachus rubbed his temples. “Both of you stop.”

Vairya winked. “No promises.”

Pandora, utterly defeated, simply sat there, regretting everything.

୨୧┇tag list : @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺, 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇RARARARARARARARA I LOVE THESE GAYS SM

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓯𝓲𝓿𝓮

The palace had never felt so different. Telemachus had grown up here, trained here, become a man beneath its grand pillars and within its marble halls. Yet now, with the small weight of his daughter in his arms, everything felt new. Every corridor seemed quieter, every candle’s glow a little softer, as if the entire world was holding its breath, watching as he and Vairya learned what it meant to be fathers. Eirene—so small, so fragile—blinked up at him with sleepy eyes, her tiny hand grasping his thumb with a strength that astonished him. Telemachus didn’t know how something so little could hold so much of his heart, but gods, she did.

“You’re holding her like she’s made of glass,” Vairya murmured, stepping up beside him. His voice was teasing, but gentle. “She won’t break, love.”

Telemachus shot him a look, but Vairya was already leaning in, pressing a kiss to Eirene’s soft curls before dropping one onto Telemachus’s temple.

“I just… I still can’t believe she’s here,” Telemachus admitted, his voice hushed in awe. “That she’s ours."

Vairya grinned, reaching out to trace a finger along Eirene’s cheek. “Believe it, because she’s going to make sure we never sleep again.”

As if on cue, Eirene scrunched her face, making a tiny, displeased noise before her wails filled the room.

Telemachus panicked immediately. “What do I do?” he asked, rocking her gently, but she only screamed louder. “Why is she crying? She was fine a second ago!”

Vairya snorted. “Welcome to fatherhood.”

Telemachus shot him a glare before shifting Eirene in his arms, trying different ways to soothe her. He’d seen other parents do this before—it looked so easy. But now, with his daughter in his arms, her cries like tiny daggers to his heart, Telemachus felt utterly unprepared.

Vairya, of course, seemed to find the whole thing amusing. “Here, let me.” He took Eirene effortlessly, settling her against his chest. “She probably just wants to be close.” Eirene squirmed for a moment, then settled, her cries fading into little hiccups.

Telemachus groaned. “How do you do that?”

Vairya smirked. “Natural talent.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the fond smile tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, resting his head against Vairya’s shoulder so he could see their daughter’s tiny face. Eirene, in turn, yawned and stretched, her little hand reaching out to clutch at the fabric of Vairya’s tunic.

“She’s perfect,” Telemachus whispered.

Vairya’s free arm wrapped around Telemachus, pulling him closer. “She is. And so are you.”

Telemachus scoffed. “I just panicked over my own child crying. That’s not exactly ‘perfect.’”

Vairya laughed. “It is, actually. Because it means you care. And that’s what matters most.”

Telemachus sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he leaned into the embrace. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Vairya murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Together.”

Eirene let out a soft coo, her tiny fingers curling into Vairya’s tunic as if she, too, agreed. And in that moment—wrapped in each other’s arms, their daughter safely nestled between them—Telemachus knew that no matter what came next, no matter how much they stumbled or struggled, they would figure it out.

Because this was their family. And they would love her with everything they had.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺, 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇hehehe :3

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻

The streets of Ithaca were quiet under the soft glow of the morning sun as Telemachus and Vairya made their way back to the palace. Wrapped in a bundle of soft fabric, the little girl nestled in Telemachus’s arms let out a tiny sigh, her delicate fingers curled around the edge of his tunic. Vairya walked beside him, glancing down at the infant with an unreadable expression.

He had been silent for most of the journey, but his hand occasionally brushed against Telemachus’s back, a quiet reassurance.“You’re staring,” Telemachus murmured, amusement flickering in his voice.

“She’s small,” Vairya said simply, his voice softer than usual. “And fragile.”

“She’s ours,” Telemachus responded without hesitation.That made Vairya pause for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. She is.”

The palace doors loomed ahead, and as they stepped through, a pair of familiar figures waited for them in the grand hall—Penelope and Odysseus.Penelope was the first to notice the bundle in Telemachus’s arms. She took a step forward, brows furrowed in concern, but as she got closer and saw the sleeping infant, her expression softened into something unreadable.

“Telemachus,” she started, her voice careful. “Who…?”

“We found her,” Telemachus said gently, adjusting his hold on the girl. “She was abandoned. Alone.”Vairya, standing at his side, crossed his arms. “We couldn’t leave her.”Odysseus, who had remained silent, finally moved forward.

His sharp eyes, trained by war and hardship, studied the tiny infant. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, without a word, he reached out.Telemachus hesitated for only a second before carefully placing the girl in his father’s arms.Odysseus held her like he had held Telemachus when he was small—secure, steady, protective.

The baby shifted in her sleep, letting out a tiny yawn before settling against him.The great warrior of Ithaca, the man who had survived gods and monsters alike, stood there, looking utterly undone by the fragile life in his arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Penelope murmured, stepping beside him.

Vairya exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… I suppose this means she’s part of the family now?”

Odysseus chuckled, glancing down at the baby. “Seems that way.”

Penelope looked up at Telemachus, her gaze warm. “You’re sure about this?”Telemachus nodded without hesitation. “She needs a home. And we—” he glanced at Vairya, who gave a small smirk— “we need her, too.”

Penelope reached out, placing a hand on Telemachus’s cheek before moving to Vairya and doing the same.

“Then welcome her home.”Vairya let out a breath, glancing at the baby once more.

“We should give her a name.”Odysseus hummed. “Have you thought of one?”Telemachus and Vairya exchanged glances. They hadn’t spoken about it yet, but as Telemachus looked down at the child, a name whispered in his mind.

Eirene.

Peace.

Something neither he nor Vairya had ever truly known growing up.Vairya seemed to read his thoughts, because he nodded.

“Eirene.”

He let the name settle on his tongue, as if testing it. “Yeah. I like it.”

Odysseus smiled, shifting the now-sleeping Eirene in his arms. “Then welcome to Ithaca, little Eirene.”

And just like that, the family grew a little bigger.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺, 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇MY SHAYLAS I LOVE THEM SM

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the city of Ithaca. The streets were bustling with life, the market stalls filled with merchants selling their wares, and the faint sound of laughter echoed from the taverns. It was a peaceful evening, and Telemachus and Vairya walked side by side through the heart of the city, hands brushing against each other as they shared quiet conversation.

It had been months since they had taken the throne as the new Kings of Ithaca, a decision that had come with its own challenges. The city had embraced them—granted, not without some resistance—but now, the people of Ithaca were beginning to trust their rule. Vairya had become a beloved figure, his wit and sharp mind winning over even the harshest critics, while Telemachus had earned the respect of the people for his steady leadership.

Together, they were an unbreakable force, balancing each other in ways neither of them had imagined. But despite the peace that had settled over the city, there was always a sense of longing in Vairya’s heart—a longing for something more, something to solidify their new family.

As they walked past the familiar stone buildings, their voices drowned out by the hum of the crowd, Telemachus leaned in close to Vairya, his smile soft.

"I can’t believe we’re really doing this," he murmured. "Leading Ithaca... It still feels surreal sometimes."

Vairya smiled back, squeezing Telemachus's hand. "Surreal, maybe. But it’s ours now. We’ve earned this." His voice was filled with pride, but there was something more behind his words—something that weighed heavily on him.

Telemachus noticed the shift in his tone, the way his partner’s brow furrowed slightly, and he slowed his pace, turning to face him. "What’s on your mind?" he asked, his voice tender.

Vairya hesitated, his gaze drifting to the bustling crowd around them, and then back to Telemachus. "I don’t know... I guess I’ve been thinking about the future. About what we want, you know?"

His eyes softened as he looked down at the cobblestones beneath their feet. "Maybe... maybe there’s more for us than just the crown."

Telemachus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?" Before Vairya could answer, a soft cry broke through the noise of the market. It was a small, desperate sound, one that sent a chill down both of their spines.

They turned toward the noise, their eyes scanning the area.Near the edge of the square, nestled in a small alcove between two stone walls, they saw her.A small bundle, wrapped in rags, lay on the ground, the soft cry coming from the tiny infant within.

Her face was streaked with dirt, and she looked so small, so fragile, abandoned in the busy streets.Vairya’s heart clenched at the sight, and before he could stop himself, he was moving toward her. Telemachus followed, his hand gripping Vairya’s wrist as they approached the child.

"Is she...?" Telemachus trailed off, his voice tight with concern as Vairya knelt beside the baby.

Vairya gently lifted the infant into his arms, his fingers trembling as he brushed the dirt from her tiny face. She was so small, so delicate—her eyes were shut tightly, but her breaths were shallow, and her skin felt cold to the touch.

"She’s been abandoned," Vairya said softly, his voice breaking slightly. "Gods, how could anyone leave her here?"Telemachus knelt beside him, his face filled with equal parts anger and sorrow.

He reached out to touch the baby’s tiny hand, his expression softening. "She’s just a baby... What kind of person would do this?"

Vairya’s gaze softened, his eyes meeting Telemachus’s. "We can’t just leave her, Telemachus. She needs us."

Telemachus nodded, his heart heavy as he looked down at the infant. There was a fierce protectiveness rising within him, an urge to take care of her, to make sure she never felt abandoned again.

He looked up at Vairya, his decision made. "We’ll take her. We’ll adopt her. She’ll be part of our family."

A smile broke through Vairya’s usually composed demeanor as he looked at Telemachus, the love and determination in his eyes clear. "You’re sure?"

Telemachus nodded, his hand gently brushing the baby’s cheek. "I’m sure. She deserves a family, and we can give her one."

Vairya looked down at the infant in his arms, her tiny form so fragile, yet so full of potential. His heart swelled with a love he hadn’t expected, and the weight of the decision settled in his chest like a heavy stone.

This was it.

This was the beginning of a new chapter for them, as a family.The sounds of the bustling city around them faded as they stood together, both lost in the moment.

The infant’s cries had stopped, replaced by soft cooing as she nestled into Vairya’s arms, comforted by the warmth and care they offered.

Telemachus smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Vairya’s forehead. "We’ll raise her right. We’ll be the parents she deserves."

Vairya nodded, his gaze never leaving the baby. "And we’ll do it together. Always together."

As they stood in the fading light of the day, the city of Ithaca around them, they knew that their lives had just taken a new turn.

Together, they had found a new purpose—a new reason to love and protect. And with the infant in their arms, they had a new life to shape, a new family to build.

The future was uncertain, but as long as they had each other, they were ready for whatever came next.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇sorry I died for a few days chat 😔

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓽𝔀𝓸

The great hall of the palace was warm with the glow of torches and the soft flicker of the hearth. The scent of roasted lamb, fresh bread, and spiced wine filled the air, and the sounds of the evening feast surrounded them—laughter from the servants, the distant hum of a lyre being played somewhere in the halls.

At the grand wooden table sat the royal family of Ithaca—Penelope, poised and regal, her sharp eyes always watching; Odysseus, newly returned, his presence larger than life, radiating both wisdom and strength; and Telemachus, now a husband, his usual wariness softened by the man sitting beside him.

Vairya.

He had never imagined himself here, sitting at a royal table as an honoured guest—no, as family.

"The food is good," Vairya said, reaching for another cut of lamb. "Your cooks know how to make a meal worthy of a king."

"Flattery won’t save you from my questions," Odysseus said, his voice carrying an edge of amusement. "I know a fighter when I see one, and I know when a man has been trained by gods. Ares, isn’t it?"

Vairya smirked. "You have a sharp eye, my king."

"I’d be dead if I didn’t," Odysseus said simply, taking a sip of his wine. "Ares doesn’t take on students lightly. That tells me you’re dangerous."

"I like to think I’m more charming than dangerous," Vairya said, glancing at Telemachus, whose face twitched with barely restrained exasperation.

"Charming?" Penelope arched an eyebrow. "That’s an… interesting word for it."

Vairya chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Your son seems to think so."

Telemachus nearly choked on his wine. "Vairya."

Odysseus barked a laugh. "Oh, I like him."

"That makes one of us," Penelope muttered, though there was no real bite to it.

Vairya turned his attention back to Odysseus. "If it makes you feel better, I don’t plan on killing your son anytime soon."

"Anytime soon?" Telemachus muttered under his breath.

"Good," Odysseus said with a nod, as if it were a perfectly reasonable statement. "Because I would have to kill you first."

"Fair trade," Vairya agreed, tearing off a piece of bread. "But if it’s any consolation, your son is quite… impressive."

Telemachus shot him a warning look. "Vairya, don’t—"

"Impressive how?" Odysseus asked, clearly entertained.

Vairya’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. "Well, in many ways. But I’d say his stamina is particularly admirable."

There was a brief silence before Penelope sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Must you?"

"Must he?" Telemachus hissed, his ears turning red. "Must you, Vairya? Right here? With my parents?"

Odysseus laughed again, shaking his head. "I definitely like him."

"Glad to have your approval, father," Telemachus muttered, burying his face in his hands.

Penelope, ever the picture of patience, exhaled and took a slow sip of her wine before fixing Vairya with a level stare. "Tell me, Vairya, have you always been this insufferable?"

"Oh, absolutely," Vairya said cheerfully. "It’s part of my charm."

"You keep using that word," Telemachus grumbled. "I do not think it means what you think it means."

Odysseus leaned forward, studying Vairya with the sharp gaze of a man who had spent a lifetime reading others. "Tell me truly—why did you fall for my son?"

The question was unexpected, and for once, Vairya didn’t have a quip ready.His expression softened as he turned to look at Telemachus, who was still recovering from his earlier embarrassment. He was beautiful in the firelight—his strong features, the intelligence in his eyes, the quiet strength that had drawn Vairya to him from the start.

"Because he’s everything I didn’t know I needed," Vairya said simply. "Because he is steady where I am reckless, because he makes me want to be better, because…" His voice dropped slightly. "Because I love him, and I’d rather die than see him hurt." Telemachus, caught off guard by the sincerity, could only stare at him.

Odysseus was silent for a long moment before he finally nodded."Good answer."

Penelope’s expression softened slightly. "You mean it."

"Of course I do," Vairya said. "I don’t do anything halfway."

Odysseus grinned. "Then welcome to the family, son."

Vairya blinked, then let out a breathless laugh. "Well, I wasn’t expecting that."

"Did you think I’d challenge you to a duel first?" Odysseus asked, amused.

"It did cross my mind," Vairya admitted. "I was prepared to fight for your son’s honor, but honestly, I think I already won."He turned to Telemachus and smirked. "More than once, actually."

"Gods, please stop," Telemachus groaned.

"Never," Vairya said, grinning.

Odysseus clapped a hand on Vairya’s shoulder, his grip firm but approving. "You have fire, boy. But more importantly, you have loyalty. My son deserves that."

"And he has it," Vairya said, his voice serious again. "Always."

The moment settled into something warm, something real.

Telemachus glanced at Vairya, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles. Despite the teasing, despite the embarrassment, there was something in his eyes—affection, trust, love.Vairya reached under the table and took his hand, squeezing gently.

The rest of the evening passed with laughter and warmth, the tension melting into something that felt unmistakably like home.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅

୨୧┇i love them sm 😔

The palace of Ithaca was never truly quiet. Even in the early morning, before the suitors filled the halls with their boasting and laughter, there was always movement—servants preparing the day’s meals, guards pacing along the corridors, the distant murmur of Penelope speaking with her handmaidens. And, of course, there were always the sounds of two particular children running through the halls like a pair of restless spirits.

Pandora and Glaphyra were ten, still small enough to slip between the columns and hide behind heavy drapes when they wanted to escape notice, but old enough to know that their brother, Antinous, was not the same as he had been when they were younger.He was twenty now, a man grown. He was no longer simply their brother; he was one of the suitors vying for Queen Penelope’s hand.

That meant he had to act with dignity, with authority. He was expected to stand tall among the others, to demand respect, to show that he was worthy of ruling Ithaca.But that didn’t mean Pandora and Glaphyra made it easy for him.

“Antinous!” Pandora’s voice rang through the hall as she and Glaphyra came barreling toward him, their bare feet slapping against the polished stone floor.

He barely had time to react before Pandora leaped forward, grabbing onto the hem of his fine chiton like a child who had never learned proper manners.Glaphyra, ever the quieter one, trailed just behind, though her dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

Antinous groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What now?” He was already dressed in the fine clothes of a nobleman, a deep red chiton fastened with a golden pin at his shoulder.

His hair was neatly combed, his posture rigid. He was supposed to be on his way to a gathering with the other suitors, but clearly, his sisters had other plans.

“Come play with us!” Pandora demanded, tugging insistently at his arm.

Antinous sighed. “I don’t have time for this. I have important things to do.”

“You always have ‘important things’ to do,” Glaphyra murmured, crossing her arms. “You never spend time with us anymore.”

Antinous hesitated.

He didn’t have an answer for that, not one that would satisfy them. When he had been younger, he would have spent hours with them—teaching them how to climb the olive trees in the courtyard, sneaking them sweets from the kitchens, telling them stories of great warriors and cunning heroes. But things were different now.

He had to be someone greater than just their brother. And yet… the way Pandora looked up at him, her eyes wide with expectation, the way Glaphyra’s fingers nervously twisted in the fabric of her tunic—it made him feel something he didn’t like.

Guilt.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But only for a little while.”

Pandora cheered, grabbing his hand before he could change his mind, and Glaphyra’s lips curled into a pleased smile.

“Come on!” Pandora tugged him along, leading him away from the grand halls where the suitors gathered and into one of the quieter corridors of the palace.

There, behind one of the pillars, they had set up a small space with a collection of pebbles, some roughly carved sticks, and what appeared to be a very lopsided attempt at a doll made of linen scraps.“We’re playing 'Heroes and Monsters'”

Glaphyra explained. “I’m the wise oracle, and Pandora’s the warrior.”

“And what am I supposed to be?” Antinous asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pandora grinned wickedly. “You’re the monster.”

Antinous scoffed. “Oh, wonderful.”

“Come on! You’re supposed to roar and chase us!” Pandora insisted, her excitement bubbling over.

Antinous rolled his eyes, but as he looked down at his sisters, so eager, so full of the kind of joy he hadn’t felt in a long time… he gave in.

With an exaggerated growl, he hunched his shoulders and reached for them. Pandora shrieked, laughing as she bolted down the hallway, and Glaphyra—who was usually far more reserved—let out a delighted giggle as she dashed in the other direction.

For a moment, just a moment, Antinous forgot about the suitors, about Penelope, about the weight of proving himself.

He was just their brother again.

And maybe that was enough.

୨୧┇@antinousletmehit requested this :3

[aikokoko33]

quick question why is your telemachus series posted on x reader if like its really an oc x reader

dont get me wrong its good writing a great series really just like my thoughts

well it was actually inspired by Aphrodite's gamble and the author , Rei used both "y/n" and "Pandora" to describe the reader. I HATE using "y/n" when I'm writing in a series for example. If it's a simple request I will use it. The series I made got me attached to the characters and I will continue using Vairya when refering to male!reader X Telemachus because I just simply like the name. Yes I DO treat Vairya as an oc BUT that doesn't mean it is an oc. It's just like a silly lil thing I thought of :3

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇MY SHAYLASS

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓸𝓷𝓮

The day after their wedding, Ithaca was quiet. The revelry had passed, the music had faded, and the palace—so often filled with tension and duty—felt lighter. It was a rare day of peace, and Vairya planned to make the most of it.Telemachus had barely woken when he noticed Vairya was gone. At first, he thought nothing of it. Vairya was restless, always moving, always finding something to keep himself occupied. But when he got up and found the room empty—no trace of his husband except for the lingering scent of him in the sheets—he frowned.

His confusion only deepened when one of the palace servants approached him with a note, neatly folded and sealed with a smudge of Vairya’s thumbprint instead of wax ."Come to the garden. Wear something nice."

Telemachus huffed a small laugh. He could already picture Vairya grinning to himself as he wrote it.

After dressing and running a hand through his hair, he followed the stone pathways leading to the palace gardens. It was a quiet, hidden place—lined with olive trees and wildflowers, overlooking the sea. He had spent many childhood afternoons here, but when he stepped into the garden now, it was transformed.Soft, golden light streamed through the trees, illuminating a low table covered in dishes.

Vairya sat there, waiting for him, his legs crossed lazily as he twirled a flower between his fingers. But what caught Telemachus’s attention first was his head—adorned with a crown of woven flowers, sitting slightly crooked on his dark hair.

Vairya looked up, a slow, pleased smile spreading across his face. “Ah, there you are.”

Telemachus blinked at him, then at everything around them. “Did you do all this?”

Vairya shrugged as if it were nothing, but there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. “I had time.” The table was filled with food—simple but carefully prepared. Freshly baked bread, slices of fruit, honey-drizzled cheese, roasted fish.

A small amphora of wine sat beside two polished cups. Everything was arranged neatly, but Telemachus could see the imperfections—the slightly lopsided bread, the uneven cuts of fruit. It was far from the refined meals prepared by palace cooks, but somehow, it made it all the more precious.

“You cooked?” Telemachus asked, amused.

Vairya smirked. “I can follow instructions. Mostly.”

Telemachus chuckled, stepping forward. He noticed something else—a second flower crown, carefully woven, sitting on the table.

Vairya picked it up, standing as he reached for Telemachus.

“For you,” he murmured, placing it on Telemachus’s head.

Telemachus let him adjust it, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest. “I didn’t know you knew how to make these.”

Vairya grinned. “I had to redo mine three times before it stopped falling apart. Yours only took two tries.”

Telemachus laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Vairya stepped closer, his fingers brushing against Telemachus’s jaw. “And yet, you married me.”

“I did,” Telemachus murmured, his voice softer now. “And I would again.”Vairya’s smirk faltered just slightly, something more tender replacing it.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Telemachus’s lips before pulling away. “Good. Now sit. Eat.”

They settled on the cushions, their legs brushing under the table. The food was good—not perfect, but good—and Telemachus made sure to compliment every bite just to watch the pleased glint in Vairya’s eyes.

After they ate, they lounged in the garden, drinking wine as the sun began to set. Vairya pulled Telemachus onto the grass, resting his head in his lap.

“This isn’t what I imagined marriage would be like,” Vairya admitted after a moment.

Telemachus raised a brow. “And what did you imagine?”

Vairya smirked. “More arguing. Less flower crowns.”

Telemachus laughed, running his fingers through Vairya’s hair. “You like them.”

“I like you,” Vairya corrected, closing his eyes.Telemachus smiled, looking down at him—his husband, his storm, his home.

And as the sky darkened and the stars began to peek through, he thought:

This is happiness.

This is love.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇MY SHAYLASS I LOVE THEM SM WJSNUWNSUANSH SHSBSYSBSGSBSHSBSH

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂

The first thing Telemachus became aware of was warmth—soft, steady, and unrelenting. It enveloped him, pulled him under like waves lapping against the shore. His mind stirred, drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, but he didn’t want to move. Not yet.His second thought was of Vairya.He felt the steady rise and fall of his husband’s chest beneath his cheek, the firm arm draped lazily across his waist, the fingers tangled loosely in his hair. Telemachus smiled, eyes still closed.

Husband.

The word was still new, still foreign on his tongue, but he liked it.Slowly, he lifted his head, blinking against the soft morning light streaming in through the open windows. The breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the lingering traces of last night—wine, oil lamps, and something distinctly Vairya.He glanced up at the man beside him.

Vairya was still asleep, his face softened in rare tranquility. His dark lashes rested against his cheekbones, his lips slightly parted as he breathed evenly. Gone was the sharp wit, the cocky smirk, the ever-present restlessness. In its place was something quieter, something that Telemachus knew was reserved only for him.

Unable to resist, Telemachus reached up and traced a finger along the sharp line of Vairya’s jaw. He had always been rough around the edges—wild, untamed, a storm in human form—but here, in the golden morning light, he was simply his.

Vairya stirred at the touch, his lips curving into a lazy smirk even before his eyes fluttered open. “Couldn’t resist, could you?” His voice was thick with sleep, deep and husky.

Telemachus rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “You were drooling. I had to check if you were still breathing.”

Vairya huffed a laugh, tightening his grip around Telemachus’s waist and pulling him in closer. “Liar.” He pressed a kiss to Telemachus’s forehead, then to his nose, then lower, to the corner of his lips.

Telemachus hummed, tilting his head just enough to meet Vairya’s mouth in a proper kiss. It was slow, unhurried—different from the desperate, feverish ones they had shared the night before.

This one was softer, like a lingering promise.When they pulled apart, Vairya ran a hand down Telemachus’s back, fingertips tracing lazy patterns against his bare skin. “So… husband,” he murmured, a grin playing at his lips.

Telemachus felt his face heat. “Are you going to keep saying that just to fluster me?”

Vairya smirked. “Yes.”

Telemachus huffed, but he couldn’t hide the way his heart swelled at the word. “I suppose I should get used to it, then.”

Vairya’s smirk softened. “You should.”They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other, neither in any rush to leave the bed.

The celebrations the night before had gone on until the early hours of the morning—dancing, drinking, laughter, and joy. Ithaca had been alive with music and revelry, their wedding a moment of peace in a world that had so often been cruel to them.

And now, it was just them.“Do we have to get up?” Telemachus muttered, nuzzling into the crook of Vairya’s neck.

Vairya chuckled, his fingers brushing through Telemachus’s hair. “No.”

“Good,” Telemachus mumbled. “Because I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”

Vairya let out a satisfied hum. “I did wear you out.”

Telemachus groaned, swatting at his chest. “You ruin everything.”

Vairya only laughed, shifting so that he could roll Telemachus onto his back and hover over him, caging him in with his arms. “Admit it, you love it.”Telemachus tried to glare, but he was too relaxed, too content.

He let out a small sigh before reaching up to cup Vairya’s face. “I do,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over Vairya’s cheek. “I love you.”

Something flickered in Vairya’s eyes—something raw, unguarded. He leaned down, capturing Telemachus’s lips in a slow, lingering kiss.“Say it again,” he murmured against his mouth.

Telemachus smiled, brushing his nose against Vairya’s. “I love you.”Vairya exhaled, as if hearing the words settled something deep inside him.

He rested his forehead against Telemachus’s, his fingers tracing up and down his arm absentmindedly. “I love you too.”The words were quiet, but they carried the weight of everything they had been through—every fight, every stolen moment, every time they had almost lost each other.

They stayed in bed until the sun was high in the sky, wrapped in each other, sharing soft kisses and whispered words. For once, there was no war, no duty, no expectations—just them.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Telemachus thought: This is what happiness feels like.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇MY TUMBLR WAS TWEAKING WITH THE TITLE.

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓮

The air was thick with anticipation as the sun dipped low over Ithaca, casting a warm glow over the wedding ceremony. The vast courtyard of the palace was lined with flowers—pale roses, lilies, and vibrant violets, filling the air with their sweet scent. A soft breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the sound of distant waves.

The guests had gathered, the hall full of laughter and music, the promise of a new life hanging in the air.Vairya stood at the altar, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Telemachus. He could feel the weight of every eye upon him, but his attention was entirely consumed by the figure walking toward him.

Telemachus.

He looked every bit the prince—his regal posture, his eyes bright with excitement, the soft smile he wore just for Vairya. The dark waves of his hair were swept back from his face, and the fine tunic he wore, the intricate silver jewelry around his neck, only highlighted the strength and beauty of the man he had come to love so deeply.

The moment Telemachus reached the altar, Vairya reached for his hand, feeling the warmth of him seep into his skin. They stood side by side, ready to make their vows, the world seemingly quieting around them as they exchanged a quiet look of mutual understanding.

But before the ceremony could proceed any further, a voice rang out—sharp and commanding. "Stop!"

The guests froze.Vairya’s eyes darted toward the source of the voice.

Standing at the entrance to the courtyard were his parents—Antheia and Asklepio.His mother’s eyes were cold, her mouth twisted in disdain as she surveyed the scene before her. His father, a towering figure, stood beside her, arms crossed in a posture that conveyed authority—and danger.

Vairya’s stomach dropped.

He had hoped, prayed that they wouldn’t show up. He had hoped that this day would remain free from their meddling, but deep down, he had known it was only a matter of time.

"What is this?" Antheia’s voice cut through the tense air, full of disgust. "You, my son, marrying this… this boy? She spit the word as if it were venom. "This is not the way we raised you, Vairya. You were meant for more. Not this…” Her eyes flicked to Telemachus with a mixture of disdain and scorn. "Not him."

Asklepio stepped forward, his voice low and menacing. "This is beneath you, son. Your place is not with the likes of him—a boy of lowly birth, a mere prince, a child playing at a king’s life."

Vairya’s hand clenched around Telemachus’s, and he could feel the tension in the air, like the moment before a storm broke. Telemachus squeezed his hand in return, his expression a mixture of hurt and confusion. But Vairya was no longer listening to their words. The anger was boiling inside him, bubbling to the surface like a volcano threatening to erupt.

"Enough." Vairya’s voice was low but firm.

His parents ignored him, continuing their tirade."You have lost your way, Vairya," Antheia spat. "This is not love—it is a foolish mistake, one that will only bring shame to our family. You think this boy will stand beside you, but he’s already proven himself weak."Telemachus’s jaw tightened, and he stepped closer to Vairya, as though trying to protect him.

But Vairya pulled him back, his gaze narrowing as he took a deep, steadying breath."You are wrong," he said quietly, though every syllable carried the weight of his resolve. "I don’t care about your approval. I never have. This is my life, my choice, and I will not let you poison it with your venom."

Antheia’s eyes flashed with fury, her hand rising as if to strike him. "You dare speak to us like that? After everything we’ve given you, you have the audacity—"

But before she could finish, Vairya snapped."You listen to me," he shouted, his voice filled with raw fury. "If you ever speak to me like that again, if you ever try to manipulate or belittle me or Telemachus, I will make your lives a living hell." His words hung in the air, shocking everyone into silence.

The guests stood frozen, watching in stunned silence as Vairya’s anger burned brighter than any fire."I will make sure you regret ever trying to tear us apart," he continued, his voice a low growl. "You are not my gods. You do not control me. And you will not control my love. Not now, not ever." Antheia’s face twisted in fury, her lips curling into a snarl.

Asklepio moved forward, his imposing figure like a shadow in the dimming light. "You are threatening your own blood? You would destroy everything for a boy?"

Vairya didn’t back down. "I will destroy everything for him.

He turned to Telemachus, eyes softening for a moment as he reached out, pulling him into an embrace. "I am not the son you wanted, Mother. I never was. But I am the man who loves him, and I will protect that love with everything I have."

Telemachus, standing there in the face of Vairya’s defiance, felt his heart swell. His own anger was buried under the quiet pride he felt for the man standing beside him. He stood tall, shoulders squared, as if to say: I will not back down either.

But it was when Vairya finally spoke—his voice sharp, yet steady—that the entire room fell silent. “They ripped your scrolls, Odysseus,” Vairya said, turning toward the king of Ithaca. His hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “Your writings, your maps, your letters to Penelope from before you were even married. My father even tried to steal your bow.”The room went still.

Odysseus had been seated, quiet until now, but at Vairya’s words, something in him snapped. His expression darkened, his grip tightening around the cup in his hand until it nearly cracked. And then, without warning, he stood—fast, deliberate—crossing the space between them in just a few strides.Before Asklepio could react, before anyone could stop him, Odysseus’s fist slammed into his face.The sound of the impact echoed through the hall, sharp and brutal. Asklepio staggered back, a stunned gasp leaving his lips as he clutched his now bloodied nose.

Gasps erupted from the gathered guests, some standing in shock, others barely suppressing their satisfaction.

Vairya stood frozen for half a second before a slow, dangerous smirk curled at the edge of his lips.

Odysseus shook out his fist, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with fury. “That,” he said, voice low, controlled, but filled with steel, “was for my wife.”He took a step closer, his presence towering over the man who had dared to desecrate his past. “Try anything again,” he added, voice dropping even lower, “and I’ll make sure you regret ever setting foot in Ithaca.” Asklepio, still holding his nose, looked ready to spit something back, but one glance at Odysseus’s murderous glare had him thinking twice.

He stumbled away, his wife clutching his arm, their presence now nothing more than a stain on an otherwise joyous day.

Vairya exhaled slowly, then turned to Odysseus with something almost like amusement in his eyes. “I was going to handle that myself, but—”

Odysseus clapped a heavy hand on Vairya’s shoulder, cutting him off. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

The tension in the grand hall of Ithaca’s palace still lingered in the air, the murmurs of the guests buzzing like a fading storm after Odysseus had struck Asklepio and thrown both him and Antheia out.

Vairya could still hear the sound of his father stumbling back, the sharp gasp from his mother, but none of it mattered anymore. Because when the doors slammed shut behind them, when Odysseus turned back toward him with a nod of approval, when Penelope gently squeezed his hand in silent support—Vairya knew it was over.

The priest, undeterred by the commotion, cleared his throat and raised his hands. “Now that all has been settled… By the gods above, I declare Telemachus and Vairya husbands.”

A roar of applause erupted as Telemachus took Vairya’s hands, eyes gleaming with something warm, something steady. Love. Vairya barely had time to breathe before Telemachus pulled him in, sealing the declaration with a kiss that sent the room into another round of cheers.

The feast that followed was nothing short of legendary. Wine flowed freely, tables were piled high with roasted meats, fresh bread, and fruits from across the islands. Music filled the hall, lyres and drums setting a lively rhythm as guests took to the floor to dance.

Vairya was everywhere—laughing as he drank with Odysseus, spinning Penelope in a dance (which earned him an amused but stern glare from Telemachus), and dramatically challenging Odysseus to a drinking contest, which ended with him flat on his back, Telemachus standing over him, arms crossed.“You’re my husband now,” Telemachus said dryly, offering him a hand. “Try not to embarrass yourself too much.”

Vairya grinned, taking the hand and yanking Telemachus down into his lap instead. “I thought that was part of the charm.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but didn’t move away.

As the night stretched on, people began to filter out, retreating to their chambers or passing out in corners of the hall. Pandora, grumbling about how loud everything was, left early.

Odysseus and Penelope shared a quiet moment together before retiring, leaving the newlyweds in the flickering glow of the remaining torches.

Vairya barely let the last guest leave before he was on Telemachus.

The doors had barely closed when he pressed Telemachus against them, fingers tangling in his hair, lips finding his with an urgency that had been simmering all night. Telemachus gasped but quickly melted into it, hands gripping at Vairya’s tunic, pulling him impossibly close.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Telemachus murmured against his lips, voice amused but breathless.

“You have no idea.” Vairya kissed him again, slower this time, savoring the warmth of him, the way Telemachus shivered when his hands slid beneath his cloak.They barely made it to their chamber. Vairya pulled him through the halls, lips never leaving his skin—his jaw, his throat, the shell of his ear.

Telemachus shuddered, gripping his shoulders. “At least let me breathe—”

Vairya hummed, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Breathe later. Right now, you’re mine.”

Telemachus laughed, wrapping his arms around him. “I’ve always been yours.”

And with that, Vairya shut the door behind them.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇can't believe we're at chapter 28 chat

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

The evening sun cast golden hues over the palace courtyard, its light filtering through the olive trees, creating a dappled pattern on the stone floor. Vairya stood by one of the carved pillars, watching the waves crash against the Ithacan shore in the distance. It had been a long journey to get here—not just to Ithaca, but to this moment, where he was no longer an outsider, no longer the enemy in the eyes of those who mattered most.

"You're restless," a voice observed behind him.Vairya turned, already recognizing the soft, steady tone. Penelope stood there, her presence as regal as ever, yet without the weight of sorrow that had once dulled the fire in her eyes. Now, with Odysseus home and Telemachus finally happy, she seemed lighter, even as she carried the quiet wisdom of a woman who had endured so much.

Vairya smiled, though it was tinged with something uncertain. "I suppose I am."

Penelope stepped beside him, her gaze following his toward the sea. "Even after all this time, I still find myself watching the horizon, expecting another storm, another battle, another loss." She turned to him, her expression unreadable. "But for once, there is peace."Vairya lowered his head, unsure of what to say.

He had been at the center of that storm, once an unwilling pawn in the schemes of his family, tangled in the fate of Ithaca before he had ever set foot on its shores.

"You love my son," Penelope stated, her voice gentle but firm.

He lifted his head, meeting her gaze without hesitation. "I do. With everything I have."

A small, knowing smile curved her lips. "I see that." She reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out a delicate silver necklace. The chain was thin yet sturdy, and the pendant—a small, intricately crafted owl—gleamed in the fading sunlight.

"This belonged to my grandmother," she explained. "She gave it to me when I married Odysseus. It has always been a symbol of wisdom and devotion in my family." Her fingers brushed over the pendant as if lost in memory. "Telemachus never had an interest in jewelry, but I think it should stay in the family." She held it out to him.

Vairya hesitated, eyes widening slightly. "You want me to have it?"

Penelope nodded. "It’s my way of saying, ‘Welcome to the family.’"

A lump formed in his throat. Of all the things he had expected from this conversation, acceptance—true, unspoken, unconditional acceptance—had not been one of them.

Slowly, he took the necklace from her hands, letting the cool metal rest in his palm before carefully fastening it around his neck. It felt lighter than he expected, yet it carried the weight of something far greater.

He looked at her then, sincerity shining in his violet eyes. "Thank you, Penelope. This means more to me than I can say."

She smiled warmly, placing a hand on his arm. "Just take care of him, Vairya. That’s all I ask."

Vairya placed a hand over hers, nodding. "Always."

And for the first time since he arrived in Ithaca, he truly felt at home.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇PROPOSAL CHAPTER MY SHAYLAS!!

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓼𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷

The argument had started over something small—something stupid, really.

"You always do this!" Telemachus snapped, pacing the length of their chamber, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You make decisions without telling me, without even thinking about how I feel!"

Vairya, standing near the hearth, arms crossed, let out a scoff. "I think plenty, Telemachus. Maybe you’re the one who overthinks everything!"

Telemachus turned sharply, eyes blazing. "Oh, I’m sorry for trying to be careful when the last time I trusted blindly, I got betrayed!"

Vairya flinched at that. He knew Telemachus hadn’t meant it the way it sounded, but the words still cut deep. "That’s what this is about? You still don’t trust me?"

Telemachus let out a breath, rubbing his face before glaring at him again. "That’s not what I said—"

"That’s exactly what you said!" Vairya interrupted, stepping closer. "And after everything, after all this time, you still think I—"

"Gods!" Telemachus threw his hands up. "You are impossible!"

Vairya let out a humorless laugh. "And yet, here you are!" They were close now, breathes shallow, anger crackling between them like a fire about to consume everything in its path.Then, just as suddenly, the fight shifted.

Because Vairya looked at him—really looked at him. And all he could think was, Gods, I love him. Even like this—angry, flushed, stubborn beyond reason—he loved him so much it was unbearable.And before he could stop himself, he reached into his pocket, gripping the small ring he had crafted—the one made from the red and blue stones, forged together in fire. His entire plan for this proposal had been thrown out the window.

But maybe this was exactly how it was meant to happen.

So he pulled the ring out, grabbed Telemachus's hand, and shoved it into his palm.

"What the—?" Telemachus looked down at it, confusion replacing his anger.

"Marry me," Vairya said, voice firm, unshaking.

Telemachus blinked. "What?"

"Marry me," Vairya repeated, his grip on Telemachus's wrist tightening. "You say I never think, that I make reckless decisions? Fine. Here’s one: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to argue with you, laugh with you, fight with you, and fall asleep next to you every damn night." He exhaled sharply. "So, marry me, or tell me to leave and I’ll never bring it up again."

Telemachus just stared at him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. He looked at the ring in his hand—the way the red and blue stone intertwined, a perfect mix of their elements, their souls, their everything.Then, before Vairya could say anything else, Telemachus lunged at him.

Their lips crashed together, fierce, desperate, full of all the words they hadn’t said. Telemachus’s fingers curled into Vairya’s tunic, pulling him close, and Vairya let himself be dragged into the kiss, gripping Telemachus’s waist, grounding himself in the heat of him.

When they finally broke apart, panting, Telemachus looked at him with something unreadable in his eyes. Then, he reached down, took the ring, and slid it onto his finger. "You’re such an ass," he muttered.

Vairya grinned. "Is that a yes?"

Telemachus sighed. "Of course it’s a yes, you idiot."

Vairya laughed, relief flooding through him as he pulled Telemachus in for another kiss.

Maybe it wasn’t the perfect proposal.

But for them, it was exactly right.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇finally happy chapters :3

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓼𝓲𝔁

The night air was cool against Vairya’s skin as he leaned against the marble railing of the palace balcony, staring out at the darkened waves of Ithaca’s coast. The sea stretched endlessly, a vast unknown, much like the future he was trying to shape in his mind.He rolled a small red stone between his fingers, feeling its smooth surface. It was one of the two pieces he had gathered—the other a deep blue—meant to represent him and Telemachus. A ring made of fire and ocean, of their differences and their unity. A perfect idea in theory, but the actual proposal? That was another matter entirely.

How was he supposed to do it? Just hand the ring over and say, Here, wear this? Or should he try to be poetic, something grander, something worthy of the moment?He let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. This was ridiculous. He was Vairya—he had fought, he had endured, he had stood against warriors, gods, and his own family. And yet here he was, hesitating like some lovesick boy.

A voice broke through his thoughts.“...So… you’re gonna marry my son?”

Vairya flinched—actually flinched—and turned sharply to find Odysseus standing at the entrance of the balcony, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face.

The legendary king of Ithaca was as imposing as ever, even in the dim moonlight, his piercing gaze locking onto Vairya like he could see everything—his thoughts, his fears, his love for Telemachus laid bare.

Vairya cleared his throat, quickly masking his brief moment of panic with a smirk. “That’s the plan.”

Odysseus didn’t move at first, simply watching him. Then, with a quiet sigh, he stepped onto the balcony, standing beside Vairya, his own gaze settling on the dark waves below. Vairya stayed quiet, waiting.

“You know, I always wondered what kind of person would end up with him,” Odysseus said finally, his voice thoughtful. “I imagined someone strong, clever, capable.” He glanced at Vairya, lips twitching into something almost resembling amusement. “Didn’t expect you.”

Vairya scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

Odysseus shrugged. “You’re reckless. Stubborn. Arrogant.”

Vairya snorted. “You just described your son."

Odysseus actually laughed at that—short and low, but real. He nodded slightly. “Fair point.”

Silence settled between them again, more comfortable this time. The wind rustled through the olive trees below, the distant sound of the waves filling the space where words might have been.

Vairya exhaled. “Look, if this is the part where you tell me I’m not good enough for him, I already know that.”

Odysseus turned to him, brow slightly raised.

“I’ve done things I can’t undo,” Vairya admitted. “Things that hurt him. And if he ever decided he didn’t want me because of it, I’d let him go. But he chose me. And I’d die before I let anything take him away from me again.”

He turned his head, meeting Odysseus’s gaze without hesitation. “So, if you’re looking for a reason to doubt me, I can’t give you one that Telemachus hasn’t already seen for himself. But if you’re asking whether I love him? Whether I’ll fight for him, stand beside him, spend the rest of my life proving that I deserve to be by his side?”

Vairya set his jaw. “Then yeah. I will.”

Odysseus studied him for a long moment. Then, with a slow nod, he looked away. “You remind me of myself when I was younger,” he said, almost begrudgingly.

Vairya blinked. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m much prettier than you ever were.”

Odysseus sighed, rubbing his temple. “And now I regret coming out here.”

Vairya chuckled, shaking his head. But then, quieter, he said, “I mean it, though. I love him.”

Odysseus glanced at him again, his expression softer now. “I know.”

A pause.

Then, Vairya hesitated before holding up the two stones in his hand—the deep red and the ocean blue. “I was gonna make a ring from these. One for me, one for him. Fire and sea.” He turned them over in his palm. “Still don’t know how I should ask him, though.”

Odysseus hummed in thought before smirking slightly. “Do it after a fight. He likes when you argue.”

Vairya let out a sharp laugh. “You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.”

They stood there for a while longer, watching the waves, the stars, the flickering lights of Ithaca’s harbor below.

And for the first time, the great Odysseus and the wild-hearted Vairya stood side by side—not as enemies, not as rivals, but as something resembling family.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇guys please don't beat me up because of the last chapters...

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓯𝓲𝓿𝓮

The halls of Ithaca’s palace had never felt so empty.Telemachus walked them like a man adrift at sea, untethered, directionless. The air was thick with the lingering scent of blood and burnt offerings, remnants of the battle that had ravaged his home. His father had returned—Odysseus, the great king, the long-lost hero—and together they had slain the suitors who plagued their land.

But the victory was hollow.

Because Vairya was gone.

Killed in the chaos, cut down by a blade meant for Telemachus.He hadn’t seen it happen. He had only found the body, lying in a pool of crimson, his emerald earrings glinting mockingly in the torchlight. The same earrings Telemachus had once toyed with as Vairya smirked at him, whispering something teasing in his ear. The same earrings he had clutched in his trembling hands as he had screamed his grief into the shattered night.That had been days ago. Maybe weeks. Time had blurred into nothing.Pandora had tried to talk to him. Kalliope had stayed by his side longer than she should have. Even his father had rested a firm hand on his shoulder, offering a warrior’s silent comfort. But none of it mattered.Because he was gone.

The palace felt suffocating, so Telemachus wandered the cliffs instead, where the wind was sharp and the waves were merciless. It was there he had first kissed Vairya. It was there he had first heard his laugh, rich and unguarded. And it was there that he whispered his name now, over and over, like a prayer to a god who would never answer.Until one night—one storm-laden, moonless night—someone did.

Footsteps.

Slow, deliberate.

Telemachus turned, expecting a guard, a servant—anyone but him.

And yet.

There he stood.

Vairya.

His face was streaked with dirt and dried blood, his tunic torn, his body gaunt with exhaustion—but he was there.

Telemachus stared, his breath caught between a sob and a gasp, his mind unable to process what his eyes were seeing. “You’re dead.” His voice was hoarse, broken.

Vairya exhaled sharply, tilting his head with that ever-present smirk, though this time it was softer, almost… tired. “Ghosts don’t bleed, love.”

And just like that, Telemachus moved.He crashed into him, gripping his arms, his shoulders, his face, desperate to prove this wasn’t another cruel trick of the gods.

Vairya was warm—real—his skin marred with bruises but alive.“I saw you—”

“I know.” Vairya’s hands came up to hold him just as tightly, his forehead pressing against Telemachus’s. “They left me for dead. I nearly was.” A pause, then a strained chuckle. “Turns out, I’m harder to kill than they thought.”

Telemachus let out a choked laugh, somewhere between joy and hysteria. He pressed his fingers to Vairya’s pulse, needing to feel the proof of life beneath his skin. And there it was—steady, stubborn. Just like him. Then, suddenly, the grief, the rage, the fear of losing him crashed down all at once, and he hit him.

It wasn’t hard, barely more than a shove against his chest, but it was enough to make Vairya blink in surprise. “You left me.” Telemachus’s voice shook. “You died. I thought—I thought I—” His breath hitched, and he hated how raw he sounded, how vulnerable. But he couldn’t stop. “You broke me.”

Vairya’s expression softened. He reached up, fingers brushing over Telemachus’s cheek, tracing the path of an unseen tear. “I know,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry.”

Telemachus inhaled sharply, then grabbed him, pulling him in, pressing their lips together with a desperation he couldn’t contain. It was messy, frantic, too full of everything that had been lost and found again. Vairya kissed him back just as fiercely.

The storm raged around them, the sea crashing against the cliffs, but Telemachus didn’t care.

Because Vairya was alive.

And this time, he wasn’t letting him go.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇my mother's are gonna throw me in the ocean after this...

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓻

The halls of Ithaca’s palace were eerily silent as Telemachus rushed inside, his heart pounding against his ribs. He had returned from his diplomatic mission as soon as he heard whispers of treachery—of the suitors plotting something in his absence. But nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for what he saw when he entered the dimly lit corridor.

Vairya lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, his golden armor slick with blood. A dark crimson pool had spread beneath him, staining the ground. His breath was barely there, shallow and unsteady.Pandora knelt beside him, her hands shaking as she pressed them desperately against his wound.

Her face was pale, streaked with sweat and something dangerously close to panic.The moment Telemachus saw them, the world blurred. His feet carried him forward before he even realized he was moving.“No, no, no—” His voice cracked as he dropped to his knees beside Vairya, his hands hovering helplessly over his lover’s body.

Pandora looked up at him, her eyes wide and stricken. “He’s—he’s slipping away,” she whispered, her voice thick with something like guilt.Telemachus barely heard her.

His trembling hands cupped Vairya’s face, his fingers brushing against clammy, too-cool skin. “Vairya,” he choked out, his throat tightening. “Open your eyes. Please, please.”There was a flicker of movement—barely there—but then Vairya’s eyes fluttered open just the slightest bit.

Telemachus let out a sharp, broken breath. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, thick with unshed tears. He pressed his forehead against Vairya’s, his hands shaking as they cradled the sides of his face. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve never left.”Vairya’s lips parted slightly, as if trying to say something, but no words came. His breathing was growing fainter by the second.

Telemachus clenched his jaw, his own tears falling now. “I wasn’t a good lover. I let my anger cloud my love for you. I let my doubts push me away from you. And now…” His voice faltered. He pulled back just enough to look at Vairya, to take in the sharp yet fading beauty of his face.

“Now I might lose you.”Vairya’s hand twitched, as if trying to reach for him.

Telemachus immediately grasped it, pressing their bloodstained fingers together. “Stay,” Telemachus pleaded. “Fight, please fight.” His voice cracked. “Because I love you, and I can’t—” His breath hitched. “I can’t lose you.”

But Vairya’s eyes, dark and unfocused, were already beginning to close. His grip on Telemachus’s hand loosened.And for the first time in his life, Telemachus felt utterly helpless.

And Vairya... was gone.

The air in the room felt thick with despair. Vairya lay there, blood pooling around him in an ever-expanding circle, his body weak and his vision growing hazy. His heart drummed in his chest, but each beat seemed more distant than the last. His breath was shallow, ragged—like he was being pulled deeper into the darkness, away from the world he had fought so hard to protect.His thoughts were scattered.

His last memory was of Telemachus, the love of his life, rushing out of the room, leaving him behind to go to the one thing that could save Ithaca—the death of the suitors. Vairya’s last hope for survival was now being swallowed up by the silence, the pain.He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His body trembled, fighting against the darkness trying to consume him.And then, in the distance, he heard a voice—one that cut through the fog like a knife.“GET UP.”

It wasn’t a plea.

It wasn’t a question.

It was a command—raw, powerful, unmistakable.

Vairya’s eyes fluttered open, the darkness fighting to pull him back under. But the voice was persistent, sharp. He blinked, his gaze unfocused, and when he could make sense of his surroundings again, he saw him—Ares, the god of war, standing above him like a dark, imposing shadow.

"GET UP, Vairya." Ares’s voice was like thunder, crackling through the room. His gaze was unwavering, his expression serious, like it always was in the heat of battle.

The god of war didn’t know weakness, and he didn’t believe in failure.Vairya could barely lift his head, but the urgency in Ares’s voice, the strength in his presence, was enough to force his body into motion.

He felt the pain, the exhaustion, the sheer weight of his wounds, but Ares’s command made his blood burn, his survival instincts kicking in. Somehow, with a final push of willpower, Vairya dragged himself up, his hands shaking as they pressed against the cold stone floor for support. His body screamed in protest, every inch of him burning, but Ares’s presence filled him with an intense drive, an unshakable focus.

"Why?" Vairya rasped, barely able to speak through the rawness in his throat. "I’m dying... It's too late... I..."

Ares looked down at him, his eyes gleaming with something like admiration, but there was no pity. "You are not done yet, Vairya," he said. "I do not tolerate weakness. You will not let the suitors die by Odysseus’s hand alone. It is your duty, too. Get up, and you will fight."

Vairya’s breath quickened, the adrenaline starting to flood his system. The last remnants of pain seemed to fade under Ares’s unrelenting gaze.

He was still bleeding, his body still bruised and battered, but something within him stirred. He had a purpose—he had a reason to fight.Ares stepped aside, nodding toward the door where shadows flickered, where chaos was waiting.

"The suitors have no idea what’s coming," Ares said, his voice calm but full of menace. "But you... you will be the shadow that ensures their end."Vairya swallowed hard, his body still weak but now filled with an unfamiliar strength.

He rose to his feet, each movement more deliberate, every ounce of pain swallowed by his determination.

"I’m not done," he muttered to himself, more as a reassurance than a statement. "Not yet."

As he steadied himself, Ares’s presence remained behind him like a dark cloud—guiding, watching, waiting.

In the quiet hallways of Ithaca’s castle, Vairya slipped through the shadows, moving with the grace of a predator. His hands were still slick with his own blood, but the world around him seemed to fade into the background. There was only the goal: the suitors would fall.He had always been a warrior, even if his true allegiance had once been torn between duty and love.

Now, as his wounds ached and his vision swam, it didn’t matter. He would help Odysseus, not as a son, not as a lover, but as a force of vengeance.And as he moved through the dark corridors, he saw them—the suitors, clueless and drunk on power, oblivious to the storm that had already arrived.Vairya’s hands found his bow, already strung and ready, and though his arms ached with the weight of it, he moved quickly, efficiently.

He could feel Ares’s presence guiding him, whispering strategies, advising him on which suitor to take out first.In the shadows, his arrows flew with deadly precision, the sound of each one striking its target almost drowned out by the commotion and chaos above. He didn’t need to see the expressions of the men as they fell—he could feel it. The inevitability of their demise was as palpable as his own blood pumping through his veins.The first suitor fell with a strangled gasp, the arrow sinking deep into his chest.

Vairya moved quickly, taking his next shot before anyone could realize what had happened. Another suitor collapsed, a sharp cry echoing through the halls, but the others were too slow to respond.Vairya’s breaths were steady now, his focus locked on his targets. Ares had given him strength beyond the physical—he was unstoppable, a force driven by anger, pain, and necessity.

He would not fail.

Not again.

Not for Telemachus.

Not for Ithaca.

And just as quickly as it had begun, the hall was filled with silence once again, the suitors lying dead around him, victims of his deadly skill.Vairya stood in the shadows, watching as Odysseus made his final move, securing the fate of the last few suitors with his own weapons. But Vairya didn’t need recognition. He didn’t need thanks. He had done what was necessary.

He had fulfilled his duty—his vow.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇I can see Ari approaching my location

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

The halls of Ithaca had never felt so suffocating. Tension crackled in the air like a brewing storm, and Vairya could feel it settling in his bones.The suitors were furious.

After all their arrogance, all their taunts and schemes, they had failed. None of them had managed to string Odysseus’s great bow, let alone fire the arrow through the line of axes as Penelope had decreed.

Antinous had been the worst of them. His rage was palpable, his face twisting into something ugly as he clenched his fists in the great hall.

“This isn’t over.” His voice was low, seething with venom.

"If we cannot take the throne with skill, we will take it with force."

Vairya, who had been lingering in the shadows of the corridor, stilled.

“Telemachus is returning tomorrow,” one of the other suitors muttered. "We should be waiting for him. It will be his blood that seals our victory.

"A slow, cruel smile spread across Antinous’s face. "Let’s make sure he never reaches the palace alive."

The laughter that followed made Vairya’s stomach churn.

He didn’t hesitate.

He turned on his heel, moving swiftly down the corridors. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.Antinous wasn’t going to live to see his plan through.The night had swallowed Ithaca whole by the time Vairya found him.

Antinous was in the gardens, speaking in hushed tones with a few of the remaining suitors, his hands gesturing sharply as he laid out his plan. He had no idea he was being watched.

Vairya gripped the hilt of his dagger, his jaw clenched.This wasn’t about politics. This wasn’t about power. This was about Telemachus. The man Vairya loved.Antinous had tormented him for years. Had made his life hell. Had sought to destroy him at every turn. And now?

Now he was planning to kill him?

No.

No, Vairya wouldn’t let that happen. Silent as death, he moved forward, his dagger poised to strike.

And then—

"Vairya, STOP!" A hand grabbed his wrist.

He turned sharply—only to find Pandora.Her wide, furious eyes bore into him, her grip on his wrist like iron. "You can’t do this!"

"Let go," Vairya growled.

"Killing him won’t change anything!" Pandora hissed.

"If you kill him now, they’ll hunt you down instead!"

"I don’t care!" Vairya snapped, his voice raw.

"I will not let him hurt Telemachus!"

"And you think this is what he’d want?" Pandora’s voice trembled, but she stood her ground.

"You think Telemachus would want you to throw your life away for this?"

Vairya hesitated.

And that hesitation cost him.

A twig snapped behind them.

"What are you doing here?!"Antinous’s voice.

Vairya barely had time to react before he was tackled to the ground. The air was knocked from his lungs as fists rained down on him, rough hands grabbing at his arms, his weapon wrenched from his grasp.

Pandora’s scream cut through the air." Vairya!"

He struggled, twisting beneath the weight of two suitors pinning him down, but a heavy blow to his ribs made him gasp.

"Looks like we found ourselves a spy," Antinous sneered above him. "And here I thought you were just a useless little prince."

Vairya spat blood at his feet. "Go to Tartarus."

Antinous’s expression darkened. "Hold him still."

Vairya barely had time to brace himself before Antinous drove a dagger into his side.The pain was immediate. Searing. Blinding.Vairya gasped, choking on his breath as his body jerked in agony.

The halls of the palace were chaos.

But in the dimly lit corridor where Vairya had fallen, all of that seemed distant, muffled by the pounding of Pandora’s heart.

She knelt beside him, hands trembling as she pressed them against the wound in his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. Blood seeped through her fingers, hot and relentless. “Stay with me,” she breathed, her voice tight with something she refused to name.

She had watched him fall, had seen the way her brother’s blade had torn into him, but she hadn’t expected—hadn’t wanted—to see this.Vairya’s breath came in short, ragged gasps. He tried to speak, but only a choked cough came out, his lips dark with blood.

His normally sharp, cocky eyes were dull now, struggling to focus on her.Pandora gritted her teeth and pressed harder, as if sheer force of will could keep him here, keep him alive.

“You don’t get to die,” she snapped, more at herself than him. “Not like this. Not now.”

Vairya exhaled a weak, breathy laugh, his lips barely curving. “Didn’t think… you cared.”

Her chest tightened. “I don’t,” she lied. “I just—” She swallowed hard. “You’re Telemachus’s. If you die, he—” Her voice faltered. She had been angry, jealous, frustrated with Vairya for taking Telemachus’s time, for changing the balance of things between them. But she hadn’t wanted this.

Vairya’s hand, slick with his own blood, weakly grasped hers. “Tell him…” His breath hitched, his body trembling violently beneath her hands.

Pandora leaned in closer, gripping his hand tightly. “Tell him what?”

Vairya’s lips parted, but the words never came.

His eyes fluttered shut, his grip loosening.“Vairya?” Her voice cracked. “Vairya!”She shook him, desperate, but he was still.

Too still.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover

[aikokoko33]

𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

୨୧┇ATHENA BEST WINGWOMAN 🗣️🗣️

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂-𝓽𝔀𝓸

The waves rocked the ship gently, a stark contrast to the storm raging in Telemachus’s mind. The scent of salt and damp wood filled the air, and the rhythmic creaking of the vessel was the only sound breaking the heavy silence among the crew. They were returning home, back to Ithaca, after his long journey to Sparta in search of his father.And yet, despite the nearing shore, his thoughts were tangled with memories of him.

Vairya.

The name alone brought a mixture of longing and frustration. Everything about him was a contradiction—proud yet vulnerable, reckless yet precise, charming yet utterly infuriating. He had stolen into Telemachus’s life like a force of nature, unpredictable and unstoppable. And even now, Telemachus couldn’t untangle the emotions knotted inside his chest.

He had left Ithaca unsure of where he stood with Vairya.

Could he trust him?

Could he truly believe that what they had was real, not just some elaborate game?

There was too much doubt, too much history between them, and yet, no matter how far he sailed, Telemachus couldn’t shake the way Vairya’s touch had felt, the way his voice lingered in his mind like a song he couldn’t forget.The sun was dipping lower on the horizon, casting streaks of gold across the sky when the air around him shifted.

A presence, ancient and powerful, stirred in the wind.

Telemachus stiffened.

He knew this feeling.

"Athena," he murmured.

A gentle breeze swirled, carrying the scent of olive trees, and when he turned, there she stood.The goddess of wisdom and war, radiant in the fading sunlight, her piercing gray eyes watching him with something close to fondness. She was not clad in armor as she sometimes appeared but instead wore a flowing robe, her presence a quiet force rather than an overwhelming one.

"You have done well, Telemachus," she said, her voice calm, steady. "You have sought wisdom where many would have sought only vengeance. You are not the same boy who feared stepping out from his father’s shadow."

He let out a breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "And yet, I still feel lost."

Athena stepped closer, her gaze searching his. "Because your heart is at war with itself. It has been since you left." He swallowed, not denying it.

"You are conflicted about Vairya," she continued, her voice like the whisper of a blade being drawn. "You wonder if he is truly worthy of your trust. You wonder if his love for you is real. But you do not yet know the lengths he has gone to for you."

Telemachus tensed. "What do you mean?"

Athena studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "You have been gone, searching for your father, but while you were away, Vairya was searching for redemption."She took a step forward, and the air around them seemed to hum with something unseen. "He has fought against the suitors in his own way, working to right the wrongs of his past. He defied his mother, Antheia, when she sought to use him as a pawn to steal your father’s scrolls. He could have walked away, let her continue her schemes, but instead, he stood against her."Telemachus’s breath caught.

Athena’s voice was unwavering. "He risked everything. He fought his own people, betrayed his own family, for you. And when the suitors conspired to ambush you upon your return, he was the one who uncovered their treachery. He alone planned to stop them, even if it meant taking a life to do so."

Telemachus clenched his fists. "Why?"

"Because he loves you."The words struck him harder than any blade could have.

Athena’s expression softened. "Vairya was never meant to love you. He was meant to use you. But somewhere along the way, that changed. You changed him."

Telemachus closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting her words sink in.

He thought of Vairya’s sharp wit, his infuriating smirk, the way his touch had always lingered a second longer than necessary. He thought of the quiet moments between them, the ones where Vairya let his guard down, where his arrogance gave way to something real.

"I didn’t know," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost ashamed. "I doubted him."

Athena placed a hand on his shoulder. "Doubt is natural. But now you must ask yourself, Telemachus—do you believe in him now?"

The question settled deep in his chest.He didn’t have an immediate answer.

But what he did know was that the moment he set foot back in Ithaca, he needed to see Vairya.

He needed to know.And more than anything—he needed to tell him the truth.

୨୧┇tag list: @kefi0502 @ariridley @simpformoonkight @starzundercover