vega-theythem

Latest Posts by vega-theythem

dont eat cake batter guys dont do it idc if you used an egg substitute just dont do it ok

If we are mutuals, you are welcome to: 

tag me in starters 

answer my open starters

spam my inbox with memes

ask me to spam you with memes

scream at me in ims at all ungodly hours

randomly drop a plot idea on me whenever you want 

never be scared that you’re bothering me in any way bc, if i followed you, i love your blog and I am always down for interacting with you!  <3  <3  <3

Hahahahhahaha short comic because this was silly (interaction from rp blog @chemicallydisinclinedd and @senku-ishigami-official )

you guys HAVE to take “is dumb” off the end of your username. you have to take “my shit rambles” out of your talking tag. you have to stop apologizing for existing. I get so sad for every url I see like “[name]’s-stupid-reblogs” and every blog I open with a title like “pointless posts” and every opinion post I see tagged something derogatory by op!! speaking as someone whose post tag used to be “makes bad posts.” stop actively putting up roadblocks for yourself!! why do we always say bullying is bad but never when we’re bullying ourselves

Tsukasa headcanon :

I was thinking about how could he be this well literated, if he spent most of his time to train for getting stronger in aim to earn money.

I think he had a partial schooling, the rest of the time he visited his sister and trained until late every night. When he went home the only show at TV were some about politics, wars or history. He watched it while eats some "low coast already ready meal" he bought on the way home.

Watching TV was a way to forget about his life, his sister state, but turned out to makes him very antigovernment.

HOLY

SSHIT

ANNA

Love love your writing. If it is possible (I feel bad asking this), could you do something on characters of your choice reacting if their S/O died? Thanks very much 😀

Don't mind me sobbing in the corner over this anyway have Senku dealing with the death of his love

He'd fully check out

I mean mentally

For at least a whole day

He's lost so many people already

His birth parents, his adoptive father, and now you?

Safe to say he doesn't take it well.

Doesn't sleep for a long time because you're not in bed with him anymore

Hyperfocuses on work and literally nothing else

Has to be checked in on daily by his friends

Doesn't cry until about a week after you're buried/cremated

When he does, he's standing alone in what used to be the home you shared with him

The only light shining is from the moon outside

He looks out the window at the night sky

And just drops.

It's the most he's ever cried, he thinks.

If you were there, you'd hold him

You'd rake your fingers through his hair and rub his back

You'd tell him that everything was going to be okay

But you aren't.

You're gone.

And he's never been more alone in his life.

Something I wrote for university about Penelope waiting for Odysseus

@vega-theythem @defenestratehumanity

“Word came today, of Troy.” 

Penelope halts in her movements, head turning just enough to show she was fully listening to the girl at her side. 

“The city has been sacked, and the men are returning. Our King is on his way home.”

The queen lets out a long breath, chest a contradicting mix of tight and loose at the same time. Odysseus would be home within days, surely, and then he would be at her side again. Telemachus would finally have his father to show him how to live and breathe like the man the boy so desperately already wants to be. And yet, this news of his return left an ominous taste to the air, drying her tongue. 

“We must begin preparations for my husband,” She says in a low voice. “We shall be ready for when he lands on our shores.” 

The palace is a rush of movement. Grapes are plucked and made into wine, fresh bread baked, and meat readied for feasting. A great storm blows over the ocean, one that leaves the air tasting salty and metallic. Godlike, and spiteful. Days passed, becoming weeks, then months, then a year, and beyond. People whispered, palace slaves shared silent glances, and Telemachus waited daily by the doors for his absent father while other boys and men started to drift into the halls, the people of Ithaca murmuring about the sure death of their king.

“He will come today,” Telemachus speaks aloud, a mere thirteen years old. 

Penelope doesn’t respond to his pitiful hopefulness. While she, too, hopes for his return, fear stirs in her heart. That storm, the day Odysseus was sure to return, left an irremovable bad taste in her throat. The Gods had been angry that day. Posideon had been angry that day. For what reason, she surely could not know, but it was more than likely the old God had taken Odysseus, her husband, king, and dearest friend, and spirited him away, perhaps even to the Underworld. 

But Telemachus was too young, still, to understand, though one day he will. 

“You should attend your lessons, boy,” She tells him. He huffs and pouts, stomping his feet as he leaves her to her work.

The thread of the shroud rubs her fingertips nearly raw, as she rakes her hands through, destroying most of the work she had done on it just the day before. She had to leave some progress, so that no one got too suspicious, but this would not fool the men and boys taking up more and more space in her home much longer. It was a miracle it had worked for this long as it was, but soon enough, someone would catch on that she had no intention of finishing this project, not any time soon. 

She just had to hold on until Telemachus was old enough, then she would have him marry, and take his father’s place on the throne, where he belonged. She would not rob him of his birthright before he even had the chance to make a grab for it. She would protect him, no matter the cost, until he was ready. That was her duty, not just as queen, but his mother. 

Tears burn her eyes, but not from the stinging pain in her sore hands. Her heart aches. She hates to think these things, to have to make such underhanded plots. Odysseus was the tricky one, he was the one who could both talk his way into, and out of, all kinds of trouble. All with a wicked grin, no doubt inherited from his godly great grandfather. 

Penelope was clever, sure, but she wasn’t fit for tricks and lies, and there were plenty that knew that. 

“I can help with that, wife of my blood.”

The voice startles her, her hands pulling away from the shroud so quickly she hits herself hard in the chest. She stands and turns, searching for the man who had just spoken, who had entered her private rooms unbidden.

He flits about her space curiously, feet lifted from the ground as if he’d never once even touched grass or stone with his heels. He looks over her bed, built by Odysseus to be a part of the olive tree that grew beautifully there. She watches him dance through the air, taking in every bit of her personal space as he could before deigning to give her his proper attention. 

He drops himself onto her bed, pulling his petasos from his head and letting it hang on one of the low branches of the tree before raking a hand lazily through his curled dark hair. And for a moment, a real, firm moment, Penelope was sure she was looking at her husband, and it’s now that she sees just where he inherited his beauty. 

The God Hermes smiles at her, waiting patiently for her to be able to breathe. 

She gasps, lungs burning, falling to her knees in awe of him. He snickers at her, grinning Odysseus’ grin and watching her with swirling golden eyes, flecks of red and green making his irises sparkle even more. Looking at him is almost painful, his resemblance to her husband making her feel ill, and she wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, if his image is a mere projection in order to move her heart, and listen to what he has to say.

“I can help,” He repeats, his voice strange, accented with every voice, every language, his words feeling oddly out of Time, as if he’d pulled his vocabulary from the men who had come before, and would come after. “If you want.” 

“H-help?” She asks, silently cursing how her voice trembles in the wake of this seemingly benevolent God. 

“Mm. Ody’s mine, through and through, so it’s right that I keep you all taken care of, yeah? You ‘n the little guy.” 

The tears that had been threatening her lashes finally start to fall, soaking her cheeks in a matter of seconds. The Gods had not given up on them, they weren’t being abandoned just yet. 

“Please,” She sobs. “Please tell me what to do.”

Hermes grins, eyes sharp and mischievous.

“You’ll have to be strong,” He says, standing tall, dark hair glittering with the same gold as his wild eyes. “Stronger than you ever have been before.”

-

“Mother!” Telemachus’ voice rattles her, though she doesn’t dare to show it. The boy looks and sounds more and more like his father every day, so much so that sometimes she can’t bear to even look at him. 

“I’m here,” She says from her spot resting on her bed, though she knows he’s already storming closer, his footfalls loud enough to shake the walls. 

“Are you sending notes to the suitors downstairs?” He asks, voice shaky with anger and pain. 

“They’re guests, my love. We must show them good hospitality,” She says softly, already bracing for his anger. 

“They’re trying to take you away! They’re eating us out of house, home, and wealth! And you’re encouraging it!” 

“Telemachus, please!” She lurches to her feet, moving to stand in front of him and take his soft, scarless face between her hands. “When you’re grown, you’ll understand better.”

He scoffs at her. At eighteen, he’s well grown enough, at least in his eyes. But without a father figure of any kind without Odysseus, he doesn’t truly know what he believes he does. Penelope sighs, eyes red and swollen from hours of crying, though if anyone looked closer, they’d see that she looked more calm than distressed, face too smooth for how many tears she’s shed. 

“My son, my precious prince, your father is most likely dead and those men down there know this. You must know this by now. You should start looking for a wife. You know your father and I were married by your age-”

Her son’s face goes red with rage and embarrassment, and he snaps at her to shut up, before shoving her away, turning on his heels, and nearly running out of the room. His words and tone wound her in a way that she’s not sure she’ll ever truly recover from, but she swallows her pain like she hopes one day he will swallow his. She forces herself to think of good memories, on days long past but never forgotten.

Odysseus had always been beautiful, just like the son they made.

They had been fifteen when he first approached her, all those years ago. He’d had the same strong nose and firm brow as Telemachus. His skin had been kissed by sunlight, and he blushed redder than any fruit or flower when he tripped over his own feet in front of her. 

In her mind, he was always glowing. He had the favor of Athena, and carried in him the blood of Hermes. The Gods loved him, and everyone knew it. 

And he loved her. 

He had bright eyes and a wide grin, and he always challenged her to word puzzles. He liked that she was so clever, that she could not only keep up with him, but in some cases even beat him. They spent their early days attached at the hip. Wherever she went, he followed, pattering after her like a duckling, quacking his questions and ideas. 

He’d gotten on his knees and begged her father to let him marry her. He’d given gifts, made grand gestures, and swore an oath to never even glance at anyone else. He needn't do any of it, as her father had loved him from the moment he saw how Odysseus looked at her, so it had been an easy decision. 

They married the same day, her good husband too excited to wait for propriety. It had been a secret, a quiet wedding with just them, and the Gods. They’d had a “real” wedding not long after, but they both considered that first night their true anniversary.

“Oh Aphrodite,” Penelope whispers into the wind. “Let my son find happiness in love, one day. He deserves at least that much for all his hardships.”

-

Penelope couldn’t bear to think of Eurycleia as truly traitorous, but even still. She had let her son, her soft-hearted boy board a ship and sail into the sea without any consideration for how such news could affect her. The woman had looked after Telemachus for such a long time, and was well trusted in the palace, and yet she had betrayed her mistress, the woman who had allowed her to hold and love Telemachus as a second mother. 

She had betrayed her, then told her not to cry lest she spoil her beauty. As if that was truly worth anything when there was now an even higher chance for her to lose everything she’s spent all these past years fighting to cling to. The woman should consider herself lucky if she ends up merely sold somewhere else, rather than beheaded should Telemachus not return.

The Gods had given her good dreams that night, wishing for Penelope to find peace and calm, yet she woke to find her heart was still filled with stormy anger and wretched pain. Her husband was already lost at sea, what was she to do if sweet Telemachus also didn’t return? Did he even realize what kind of situation he had put his mother in? 

If Telemachus dies, she no longer has any kind of protection from the men haunting the hallways, waiting for their chance to snatch her. If he’d only listened, if he’d cared to think, to look past himself for just a breath…

The sound of a bowstring snapping makes her jump, a gasp mixing with a yelp as she freezes her panicked pacing and whirls around, fearfully searching for the mysterious assailant. Who she finds is beautifully familiar and unknown all at once, feet unburdened by the ground.

“Great Hermes,” She wheezes, finding it a miracle in itself that she can even bring herself to speak to him after he’d startled her so thoroughly. “Telemachus is now also gone to the seas. He vanished days ago”

“Yeah, I know.” He says, completely unbothered. He plucks the great bow he’d been toying with off the wall and weighs it in his hands, his feet folding into a criss cross under him, his feathered sandals flittering to keep him afloat. His uncaring tone makes her chest fill with ache and pain, more wretched tears dripping from her eyes without permission.

“Ah, no, don’t do that,” He makes an audible tsk sound, turning and wagging his finger at her like a parent scolding a child. “I worked hard to keep you from ruining your face by giving you false tears, don’t screw it all up now by crying for real.”

His words dry her tears, as if he’d cast some kind of spell over her. Her breaths come calmer, and her shoulders lose some of their stiffness. His voice is warm and thick like honey, soothing her burning heart. He stretches his legs back out and moves closer, somehow growing even taller. He looms over her, though his face remains friendly. He bends at the waist, lowering himself to look her in the eye, shining, godly golden irises mixed with green and red, meeting her more human brown.

“Both my husband and son have left, vanished into the horizon and I don’t know if either will return,” She says softly, hypnotized by his gaze.

“Tele is with Athena, he’s fine.” There is so little care in his words, as if what he says is mere fact that Penelope should have already known. 

“And what of Odysseus, who has been gone for so long now? Have the other Gods truly abandoned him for fresher flesh?”

“Things aren’t that simple, pretty Penelope. Odysseus has a price he must pay before he can return. Damages he must remedy, fathers he must seek forgiveness from. Nothing I can do ‘bout it.”

His words make her dizzy, his language both familiar and strange. In and out of Time.

“So he is alive?” She asks. She can’t stop herself from grabbing her godly visitor by the shoulders, nails digging into surprisingly soft skin. He smiles at her, entirely unbothered by her actions, but he doesn’t answer her question.

“Please, good Hermes, I am begging you. Bring him home. I cannot handle all this alone, anymore. I need him. Telemachus needs him.” She says, voice warbling as tears once again threaten her lashes. Hermes tilts his head slightly, looking horribly, beautifully like Odysseus. He finally lets his feet plant themselves on the cool stone floor. She stares up in awe as he stands so tall the tops of his hair brush the ceiling of her rooms. His face curls, twisting in a mischievous expression.

“Let’s play a game.” He says, grinning like a cat staring down at his prey.

“A…a game?”

“Mmmhmm. I can’t just go giving you all the answers, that wouldn’t be much fun. If you want to know what I do, you gotta win.”

Penelope gapes up at him, eyes wide and unsure. Just what exactly did he mean by game? Surely it wasn’t going to be anything simple, and she doubted she’d get a real answer either way. But even still, if he was offering, she had no choice but to accept. 

“Very well, I will play,” She says, hoping to put on a brave face. 

“Atta girl, very nice!” Hermes is clearly pleased. “The rules are simple, solve all of my riddles, then I’ll spill the beans. Sound good?” 

She can’t help the way her lips turn upward, perhaps a bit over confidently. Odysseus loved riddles, loved playing word games with her. She could do this, she had to. 

“Alright, I’m ready.”

The God hums, eyes glittering with amusement and wickedness all at once. 

“Tell me, what can you miss only when you’re away?” He asks. Odysseus had told her this one before, surely Hermes must know that?

“Home.”

“Good, good. Now…what pushes men to strive for the top spot?” 

He’s jesting, he had to be.

“A…competition?” 

Hermes beams at her, nodding a bit too enthusiastically, before his face takes on that wicked look once again. He leans forward, lowering his voice so far that Penelope also has to lean in to hear his final question.

“A cunning king with a wandering heart, who braves the seas, a hero apart. Who am I?” 

It takes her but a moment, a small gasp escaping her at the revelation. She looks up at him, at Odysseus’ face, borrowed by Hermes for a painfully short moment-gone again when she dares to blink. She starts to answer, but the beautiful God straightens his spine, holding up a hand to silence her. He knew she knew, and no longer wished to hear what she had to say. Instead, with a wave of his hand, the great unused bow flies to meet him. 

As perfectly carved wood meets godly flesh, an unexpected bout of lightning shatters the silence.

Pressing the bow into her hands, his lips part to speak, but another unnatural rumble and cracking from the sky drowns out whatever he means to say. Rain starts dropping outside the windows, and the God of Travel, Thieves, and Trickery pats Penelope on the head like a father would his daughter, and is gone in a flash of angry lightning. She stares blankly at the space he once occupied, lips slightly parted as her mind comprehends what little bit of his words she understood.

“You have everything you need.”

Without its string, the bow couldn’t be drawn or fired, but even then, it had been gifted by Eurytus, the grandson of Apollo. No man living other than her husband should be able to handle the incredible draw strength. Her fingers tighten around the bow, her hand and mind steady as she comes to a decision. 

“Ares, grant me the courage to do what I must,” She whispers aloud.

“My lady,” The voice in her doorway makes her jump. “Will you join the men in their feasting downstairs tonight?”

“I shall,” She says. “But before I do, I need someone to gather some things for me.” 

“Of course, tell me what you need and I shall have it fetched for you.” 

“String. I need bowstring, and axes. Twelve of them should do.” 

“What will you do with it all?” 

“It’s time we rid ourselves of those who have long overstayed their welcome. I have decided to propose a contest. A test of strength and wills, that only a true king may complete.”

The Good Place (2016-2020)

HOW DID I BARELY SEE THIS

Manokasa ❤💜 shsbsyab

let's all frolic in the meadows together! manokasa picnic date. that's all

Yes. All of this.

They go together on a rare quiet day for the Kingdom of Science

There's a nice field where they can lay out a blanket and sit together for hours

Manny plays the guitar

Tsukasa listens, falling more and more in love

They talk about many things

Family, the future, the past.

Tsukasa kisses Manny's hands and face

Whispering soft promises of forever that he intends to keep

They make me sick, I love them so much.

@tulipisagarden @annarobszombies

tag game!

put a hear me out with no explanation and tag 2 others

npts!

@toooster @canisusmajor @soft-likethesunset @pennydew @urmumsfan @ev-enhotterthanyou @love-is-5ever @daystarpoet @glxsyymads @viqwxcs @litrlymine777

if you have time, could you do some Tsukasa x reader hurt/comfort where the reader is injured while working? totally not thinking about a certain friend's oc... no.... i would never do that...

Oh, yeah, totally. Totally not thinking about the same oc I am absolutely not

😏

This is so bad I'm so sorry I don't know where my brain went does this even count as hurt/comfort-

Tsukasa x gn!Reader

It had been an accident. The knife you’d been holding had slipped and sliced into the meat of your other hand. You hissed out curses, trying to press a clean cloth against your hand to stop the bleeding before it got too bad. But the cut was deep, and you were definitely going to need stitched together. 

You’re in the middle of the simple procedure when Tsukasa comes barreling into the room. 

“Hey! Careful!” Yuzuriha scolds him, but her words go ignored as he rushes towards you, hands reaching for your face. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, breathless. He must have run all the way from the training field once he got the news. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” You say, pressing your cheek into his hand on instinct, seeking his warmth. Tsukasa lets out a relieved sigh, his shoulders relaxing immediately. 

“Thank goodness. All I’d heard was that you were hurt, but no one told me what happened,” He says. 

“Can I finish working on my patient please?” Yuzuriha huffs, though you don’t think she’s actually that mad. If anything, she looked more amused than anything. “I still need to wrap their hand up.”

“I can do that,” Tsukasa says, turning and holding out his palm for the necessary supplies. Yuzuriha sighs, and hands them over before quickly and quietly slipping out of the room with a sneaky little grin on her face. Almost like this was planned. 

Your friends were getting less and less sneaky about what they were trying to do. 

Tsukasa takes a seat in front of you, pulling your hand into his lap so that he can inspect the careful stitching with a frown. His eyes always held a kind of intensity, but his gaze almost felt like it was burning. It made you more than a little anxious. He was always telling you to be more careful, and here you were getting hurt doing something mundane. 

“I’m sorry,” You blurt suddenly, unable to hold it in. Tsukasa looks up at you, soft eyes flitting across your anxiety filled expression. 

“What for?” He asks.

“Getting hurt. Again.”

“It happens to the best of us,” He says. “I’m more worried about how this is going to affect your ability to do the things you enjoy.” 

“Oh…” You hadn’t had time to think about that. With an injured hand, you wouldn’t be able to write, play music, or even help with basic tasks until you were healed. There was no way Senku would let you risk an infection. 

So, what were you supposed to do now? Nothing? But how could you just sit here and do nothing all day? The Kingdom of Science needed every available hand in order to keep things moving, yours included.

What a burden you’d become. Not only were you hurt, but now you were useless too. 

“Hey, hey,” Tsukasa’s hand touches your face again. You blink, a little startled at his touch and worried tone. 

“Huh? Oh, sorry, were you saying something?” You ask, a little embarrassed to have to even ask. You should have been paying attention already-

“No, it’s alright. You just…looked lost for a minute,” He says softly, fingers brushing across your cheek before dropping. 

“Oh…” 

Silence falls between you, neither knowing really what to say next. Tsukasa grabs the supplies he was given- some ointment and bandages- and gets to work on your hand. The ointment stings a bit, but not too seriously. Just enough to know it was working. 

As he works, you take a moment to focus on his hands, hoping the small distraction was enough to shake some of this anxiety you were building. 

They’re bigger than yours, though to be fair Tsukasa was a bit taller. And they were warm. Very warm. You always liked that about him, his warmth always giving you a strange feeling of security and comfort. 

God you liked him so much. You just wished you’d stop embarrassing yourself in front of him every time you were together. You always said or did something that made you wish a hole would swallow you up so that you could perish in peace. But no matter what, he never stopped finding and spending time with you. It made you dare to think that maybe he liked you too. 

“There we go,” Tsukasa murmurs once the bandage is firmly in place. “You’ll have to change this pretty often, but I can help you with that if you need it. I know you don’t handle pain very well.” 

Your face flushes, but he just gives you a warm smile, sending your heart beating a million miles a second. 

“I-I can do it on my own just fine!” You say with a huff, making him chuckle a little. 

“Of course,” he says. “My mistake.” 

There’s another moment of quiet, though this one is filled with a different kind of tension. The kind that told you Tsukasa was measuring his next words, planning them extremely carefully before speaking. 

“I was worried,” He says softly. 

“I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize, I know accidents happen. But when I was told you’d been hurt, I couldn’t help but feel anxious,” He sighs, holding your bandaged hand in his gentle palm. “I think you’re the first person other than my sister to so thoroughly scare me like that.” 

Great. Fantastic. Now you felt even more terrible about the whole thing. Way to go, you! 

“I’ll be more careful, I swear,” You say, praying your voice isn’t shaking given your sudden need to cry. 

“Good. Because if something serious happened to you, I don’t know how I’d ever recover,” He murmurs. You’re still processing his words when he lifts your hand, and presses your bandaged palm against his lips. 

It’s such a small and quick action, but the kiss has your whole body heating up, your face bright red and your heart hammering somehow even harder. You needed to calm down, and fast, before you passed out. That was the last thing either of you needed after this whole ordeal. 

“I-I’ll be extra careful,” You repeat. “Cross my heart! You won’t have to keep taking care of me like this!”

Tsukasa chuckles, a warm smile on his own slightly flushed face.

“What if I said I didn’t mind taking care of you?” He asks, standing and pulling you to your feet with him.

“I’d say you shouldn’t waste your time,” You say. 

“It’s not a waste. Not if it’s you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

New Secret Knots comic: "Cryptid".

Reblog if you're not homophobic

Every url that reblog’s will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad. 

did you know you can do anythingh with your ocs and no one can stop you.. did you know you can make aus of your ocs. you should make aus of your ocs

are people Aware that they can give their ocs illnesses that arent just depression & anxiety . u can just give ur ocs endometriosis . nobody cannstop u from doing this & if they try to then kill them Badly & with Hammers

Rainy day in Kyoto

OCs are so fun and I think its awesome that even people who don't plan to publish a story or draw that well will have them. Its just good for you to have toys in your brain to play with.

caught up on bobs burgers and i miss my family

Beginner’s Guide to Hellenic Polytheism

I KNOW this is a really long post but my intention was to just note down everything that I think is important for beginners and that’s A LOT. It took me forever to learn some of these things but they’re so important, so buckle in. I hope this helps some people.

If I’ve missed anything, please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to add. I’ve been working on this for two days, so if there are typos, I’m so sorry.

The sections I cover here are key terms, mythic literalism, deity work vs deity worship, FAQs and General Advice.

Some Key Terms

Hellenic Polytheism: Hellenic means Greek, and Polytheism means worshipping multiple gods. So, Hellenic Polytheism is the worship of the Greek Pantheon which is also referred to as the Theoi. The people who practice could be referred to as Hellenic Polytheists. Some also call themselves Hellenic Pagans, but not all people who practice Hellenic Polytheism consider themselves pagan.

Hellenistic: you may see the term ‘Hellenistic Polytheism’, but this is my PSA to ask people not to use that, as it’s incorrect. Hellenistic refers to a specific period of Andient Greece, from 323-32 BC, and your worship is almost definitely not specifically focused on that period. Additionally, here is a post by a Greek person on why ‘Hellenism’ and ‘hellenismos’ are disrespectful.

Ouranic: this is the term for the heavenly gods. Be aware that there is some overlap between Ouranic and Chthonic deities. Whether a deity is Ouranic or Chthonic will effect things like prayer position (palms up for Ouranic) and whether offerings can be eaten or drank (yes for Ouranic)

Chthonic: this is the term for the underworld gods. Be aware that there is some overlap between Ouranic and Chthonic deities. Whether a deity is Ouranic or Chthonic will effect things like prayer position (palms down for Chthonic) and whether offerings can be eaten or drank (no for Chthonic) side note - when it comes to hero worship, I personally treat them as if they’re chthonic.

Kharis: this means reciprocity, and also refers to the relationship formed between us and the gods. Arguably the most important aspect of Hellenic Polytheism is that when you ask something of a deity, you must give an offering in return. Size of what you’re asking for should correspond to size of the offering, or if you’ve given many little offerings without asking for anything you can use that as why you should be given the Big Thing.

Xenia: guest-friendship, hospitality. The idea that any stranger could be a God in disguise, so treat everyone respectfully. It’s an Ancient Greek social custom that a lot of Hellenic Polytheists see as important today. Simply put, in modern times this most often just means being kind to strangers. There’s a lot more to it than that though, so look here. Know that Xenia is a two-way thing, so you have to be generous to your guests but they must also respect your home.

Eusebeia: basically, piety. Respecting the Gods. This is really the only ‘rule’ of Hellenic polytheism. There’ll be different ideas of what is considered respectful, but as long as you have good intentions and don’t do anything you KNOW would be offensive, you’re okay. Don’t insult the gods (any of them), don’t ask for anything without offering something else, and don’t treat yourself as equal to or higher than the theoi.

Hubris: excessive pride or dangerous overconfidence, often the fatal flaw of a lot of Greek heroes in mythology. Specifically, this is when you act better than or equal to the gods. You are not.

Libations: a type of offering, in the form of a liquid. Usually poured on the ground but can be drank (unless it’s to a chthonic deity) if you’re a closeted Hellenic polytheist who can’t just pour some liquid on the floor every time you want to offer it. My advice for food offerings/libations to chthonic deities if you’re not openly a hellenist is to offer leftovers, rotting food, or something you otherwise know will go to waste.

Altar: traditionally a place used to put physical offerings and food offerings for deities. Some people have an altar to each deity, some people have one altar for all their deities. These can be as big or as small as you want. People may use shelves, drawers, boxes, windowsills, etc, and I don’t even use mine for food offerings, only for physical ones because I usually eat the food offering (I don’t like the idea of wasting food). My altars also just serve as a dedicated space for that deity in my life.

Hero worship: this is the worship of ‘heroes’ in Greek mythology, which includes literally any mortal. For example, I worship Odysseus of Ithaca, Penelope of Ithaca, Helen of Sparta, and Tiresias of Thebes. I’ve been asked a lot about how hero worship differs from deity worship, and you can find that answer here.

Devotee: there is a lot of disagreement on what the difference between a devotee and worshipper is, but for me, I’m devoted to Athena as I feel I have the closest bond with Her of all my deities and I honour Her the most. This partly comes from my feeling that She has been with me for much longer than I’ve been aware of Her presence, and that also so much of who I am and what I value comes under Her domains.

Patron: this basically means that if part of your identity comes under the domain of a deity, then that deity is your patron. There can be occupational patrons (like Hermes is the patron of merchants) or to do with things like gender (Hera is a patron for women. Yes this includes trans women, transphobes are not welcome here.) You can have more than one patron, and you don’t need to worship all of the deities who would be considered your patron.

Epithets: these are titles given to deities. There are two types - cult epithets, which describe the aspect of a deity you’re focusing on (like Athena Ageleia, meaning ‘Protector of the People’) since they have a lot of domains and it’s important in prayers to specify what you want. Then there’s poetic epithets, which are adjectives, often used to compliment a deity. I like using these to make my prayers seem more sophisticated to be honest (example: white-armed Hera)

Unverified Personal Gnosis: gnosis is spiritual knowledge. If it’s unverified, that means that it has no basis in historical sources as far as the person is aware, and they don’t know anybody else who has the same experience. You will often see this abbreviated as UPG. Personally, I think UPG is really valid, considering a lot of things are unknown to us due to the loss of sources overtime.

Shared Personal Gnosis: gnosis is spiritual knowledge. Like UPG, Shared Personal Gnosis (often abbreviated as SPG) doesn’t have any historical backing as far as the people who believe it are aware, but it is shared by multiple different people and therefore seen by some as more valid than UPG (though I’d argue that all SPG is UPG before you know that other people agree)

Verified Personal Gnosis: gnosis is spiritual knowledge. It being verified means that there are historical sources to back up the belief, and this is commonly abbreviated to VPG. You are more likely to come across the terms UPG than SPG or VPG, and most of what Helpol people on tumblr discuss is UPG, even if they don’t state that directly.

Reconstructionist: these are people who try to ‘reconstruct’ the ancient religion, recreating ancient rituals as best they can and doing things as close as they can get to how the ancient Greeks did based on our historical sources. An important note here is that we will never be able to do this perfectly and that’s okay. When it comes to things like animal sacrifices, most of us outside of agricultural areas almost definitely don’t have the means to be doing that properly, but you can use symbolism in place of a real animal, an example an anon gave me is cutting bread into animal shapes

Revivalist: these are people who try to recreate the ‘spirit’ of the religion, though not with the exact practices that the Ancient Greeks used. Revivalists are more concerned with the values and beliefs of the ancient religion than they necessarily are with how it was practiced. I personally feel like I fall somewhere between the two, but I also think both are really valid!

Mythic Literalism

Mythic Literalism is the debate in modern Hellenic Polytheism about whether or not the myths should be taken literally — and it’s common in Helpol spades online to say that the answer is ‘no, they’re metaphorical’. But I’d actually argue that they are.

Think of the Epics like the Iliad and the Odyssey — these begin with invoking the muses, goddess of inspiration said to have perfect memory. These goddesses know every event that has ever happened and are believed to guide and speak through the poets as they recite the myths, which means that they would be reciting history. That suggests the myths happened.

This isn’t ignoring the fact there are cultural reasons behind the myths and that parts of exist to them fulfil specific functions of that god or have parts of the world that they’re trying to explain.

For example, the myth of Hades kidnapping Persephone fulfils an aspect of Hades and has a cultural aspect about marriage in Ancient Greek society. First, it’s one of the myths we have of a youth being taken too soon by death (think Apollo and Hyacinthus, Zeus and Ganymedes, Thetis and Achilles, maybe even Castor and Pollux) and the grief that causes, Hades role being of the underworld. But also in terms of Greek society it was reflective of mothers losing their daughters to marriage, too. Both these things coexist in the ‘meaning’ of the myth; but just because it has metaphors, doesn’t mean it wasn’t believed to have happened. The Greeks did view their myths as having happened.

Zeus has so many children and so many affairs and rape myths, not because it’s just a metaphor and he didn’t actually do any of that, but because he’s a male fertility god, and he’s the god of kinds, and kings do abuse their power.

The Greek gods exist as how the world is, not how we want it to be or how it should be. Take Hera, for example — she doesn’t align with the passive and idealised wives described in things like Xenophon’s Economics, but is instead how women are. Real women get angry when their husbands are awful to them, so Hera, Goddess of Women, can be angry.

It’s good to learn the ways in which these deities were understood and what their domains can represent. Myths also help us to feel more familiar with our deities. Additionally the myths tell us not to be hubristic, and things like the Iliad tell us about Oaths and Offerings and Xenia. These are important parts of helpol.

I understand the want to disregard some of the more distasteful myths that depict things not only distasteful now but that would’ve even been viewed as wrong IN antiquity. But the Greek gods are not supposed to be perfect by human standards of morals. They have good and bad aspects based on their domains.

Deity Work vs Deity Worship

I’m going to preface this section by saying that I worship deities, I don’t work with them, so even though I’m doing research on this please take everything I say about deity work with a grain of salt and note that the rest of this post might apply more to worship, because that’s what I’m familiar with. Lastly, my intention here is not to place a value judgement on either type, I just want to try and make a full explanation for anyone out there looking for one, since I’ve found it to be kind of difficult to find.

From my understanding, deity work is common among witches, and usually involves asking a deity to help with your spells or other forms of magick. When you work with a deity, you are asking them to mentor you in a sense, and there’s often a specific goal in mind that they’re hoping to achieve with help of the deity. Additionally, because of that goal-oriented relationship, deity work has deadlines(?). Like, once you’ve achieved the goal you had, the deity will stop working with you

There are similarities, as both seem to involve reciprocity and offerings, and both involve cultivating a relationship with deities, even if the nature of that relationship and the reason for offering is different.

Deity worship doesn’t have a set end-goal. You CAN stop actively worshipping a deity, but this doesn’t usually come after a specific goal is achieved because there isn’t a goal in mind. Worship is more about honouring the deity. Khakis is built out of admiration, respect and love for the deity. This is why we pray, make offerings, etc. it’s all to honour the gods. We do ask for things in deity worship, but that’s not the entire point like it is for deity work.

FAQs

Do I need to be called to worship/work with a deity?

Nope! You are 100% allowed to reach out first. You can do that by praying or making an offering. Remember to research the deity first, so you know what epithets to use, know what symbols they’re associated with, have ideas for offerings, etc. Also, if a deity calls to you, you are not obligated to worship them. Acknowledge them and move on if you don’t have time, energy, or interest in worshipping them at that time.

Where can I find information on deities?

The main site that I think everyone uses is theoi.com, which has really in-depth pages on a lot of deities, with their myths, lists of epithets, family trees, etc. it’s a really useful resource!

Do I need an altar?

No. They’re nice to have but you don’t need one straight away. It took me two years of worshipping to get any altars, and even now I don’t really use them how you’re ‘supposed’ to.

Are there any sins in Hellenic Polytheism?

No, just don’t disrespect a god (don’t disrespect any of them, even the ones you don’t worship should be respected). Also don’t show hubris.

Deity X and Deity Y don’t get along, but I want to worship both, what do I do?

Disregard mythic literalism and remember this is a polytheistic religion. The gods know they are not the only god you will be worshipping, and they are chill with that. If you really want, you can separate their altars if you have an altar per deity, but it’s up to you completely.

Other General Advices

This post is a starting point, nothing here is very in-depth. Do more research if anything on here is still confusing to you. Feel free to ask people here on tumblr, I’m sure most of us would be happy to help.

Don’t believe everything you see on tiktok/tumblr. We’re all still learning, a lot of us are wrong about stuff. Do other research and let yourself form your own beliefs. As I’ve said, even parts of this post should be taken with a grain of salt. I’m no expert, I just want to try to help.

If you’re going to make your own posts about helpol stuff, advice I’ve seen before that really stuck with me is ‘keep some things scared’. You don’t have to post everything. I, at the moment, don’t post my prayers or photos of my altars. Those things are what I keep scared, you should have your own things. They don’t have to be the same as mine.

You have nothing to be afraid of. The gods can be intimidating when you’re starting out, but they know we don’t have as much readily available information about this stuff as the ancient greeks did. They also know you’re new, and they will be patient with you. Don’t be scared.

You can offer anything. Digital offerings are as valid as physical offerings. Devotional acts are valid too.

Know that you will never be done learning. Accept this and commit to trying to learn anyway.

Know how to tell signs from the gods apart from just General Happenings of the world. Here is a good post on that. I have a series on my blog tagged #signs from deities, to show the kinds of things I personally recognise to be signs and to show how frequently/infrequently those can occur. I would suggest keeping your own record of those, whether or not you share it is up to you. The reason is to reflect on your journey and, if you ever doubt your gods, you can look at those lists to remind yourself of how they’ve been there for you previously.

Doubt is healthy, it’s okay to doubt things. Don’t feel bad for this, the gods understand. Let yourself question everything you feel the need to question.

Similarly, anger is healthy. It’s okay to be angry at the gods, but don’t disrespect them because you’re upset. Handle your anger well. You won’t get punished for being upset.

The Hellenic Gods aren’t generally believed to be all-knowing, however it is believed that they can hear us when we call their names, which is why prayers start with invocation of a deity’s name and an epithet.

Thank you so muchh

You pinged most of the people i wouldve posted soooo

@putcreativenamehere @annarobszombies @vidrissaponem @kisuke-1

@lesbiantaurus @pukicho @elvis-official

❤️🌷SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING 🌷❤️💕

tagging my favs : @ver-lecstappen @ellieisque @adutchlover @lestappen-on-top @starrwrrld @randomwordsonpaper @morecomplicatedthancarbon @sharlsbandana @caprifiles @yappielestappie @chock-and-bates @f1writingbyme

obsessed with this

SCROLL BACK UP THIS IS A PAINTING

🐊🐊🐊🐊🐊

Tumblr usernames are so funny, "the ghost of jason todd started following you" okay well can he stop

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.

I was once talking to my friend (was 10) and his brothers thought we liked eachother so they were throwin rocks at him, none hit him, one hit me in my forehead, still have the scar

I also use glasses

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore