#circ’s fics

[circle-with-me]

i’m not saying y’all are going to be getting summer themed blurbs for all of the bomens boys (including matt) but what i am saying is i have four more docs with summer themed names and a brain full of ideas.

p.s. the next one is a bit smutty 🤭

[kettlefire]

Time forgets most (DPxDC)

I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post

°•°•°•°

The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.

Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.

Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.

The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.

Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.

When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.

Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.

As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.

Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.

On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.

Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.

The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.

That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.

The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.

He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.

Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.

Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.

Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.

Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.

Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.

The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.

A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.

The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.

Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.

Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.

It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.

But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.

Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.

He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.

It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.

It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.

Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.

The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.

Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.

A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.

The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.

Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.

Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.

Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.

As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.

Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.

It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.

Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.

It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.

The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.

It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.

After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.

Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.

Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.

Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.

They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.

The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.

At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.

This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.

When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.

A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.

That was until Hal saw him.

Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.

Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.

A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.

The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.

Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.

Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.

Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.

The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.

Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.

Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...

Or...

Or...

He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.

That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.

Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.

Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.

Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.

[lorianbladeoflothric]

Quick and dirty guide for people who want to write the Early Modern English-ish dialogue in their Elden Ring fics and art

Thou - you, the subject “Thou art* here”

Thee - you, the object “I entrust this to thee.”

Thy - your, preceding a consonant “Thy brother”

Thine - your, preceding a vowel “Thine own brother”

(Same goes for my and mine)

* thou conjugates differently. Its never “thou are” or “thou will” its art and wilt and I believe if it ends in a vowel or a consonant that can’t go straight into a t it gets the “-st” ending. Like “thou mayst” or “thou believest” or “thou thinkest”

The “-eth” ending is third person singular so it’s never like “I goeth that way.” It’d be “He/she/they/it goeth that way” But only in present tense. Past tense gets the standard ending.

And as always bc English is a fuck this isn’t standard across all words (a good example is may. I may, thou mayst, he may instead of he mayeth)

[divinehedons]

i won't hurt you.

navigation: masterlist

word count: ~1.9k words

summary: you meet joel in the aftermath of a terrible accident. reeling from the aftermath of the event, there is a looming shadow that complicates your relationship with the southern man you just somehow happened to meet 

warnings: explicit (but not graphic) content–MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! relatively dark(?)-ish joel miller, allusions to smut (not heavily detailed), graphic depictions of injury, some scenes include hospitalization (not in graphic detail), dubious consent, joel miller radiates mansplain / manipulate / malewife energy, men are trash in general wbk

note: oh. my. god. it has been far too long and i’m so so very sorry for just now coming back! i’ve hit a terrible writer’s block alongside very bad mental health and i’m just now recovering :’D thank you so so so much for 800 followers, it’s going to take a while for me to respond to everyone but i’ll be going through them! i love you very very dearly, mwah!

note 2.0: pls pls lower your expectations, 🫣 i am trying to get back into the groove of things!

You remember the screech of tires on frozen asphalt. A flash of headlights. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Your body ignited in pain. Then… darkness.

Darkness that seemed to spread before you for an eternity. Untethered and stuck in limbo, perhaps in another universe, you would call it the most peaceful slumber of your life. The misfortune comes when you wake. Lightning strikes shake you awake from the darkness of your subconsciousness. Electricity trembling in your chest as it shoots through your beaten frame. A light peers through your closed eyes. Brighter, and brighter… bigger and bigger. A ringing in your ears that almost deafens you.

The world shifts around you, and you wake paralyzed, staring at the ceiling in the warm sun that falls on your body lying there. Everything hurts. There is a humming in your head that you cannot seem to shake out of.

The solitude lasts for a beat. Then another. That’s when you see him.

A sleepless, roughened man looking at you with his warm eyes. Through the bleary vision of your own gaze, a shaky breath escapes him. His crinkled eyes looking over your features with a swift once over.

“Oh, Christ, you’re awake.”

And that’s how you met Joel.

–

In the week that followed your complicated recovery, Joel tells you he saw the crash. Tells you the asshole who ran you over was nowhere to be seen. He says most of it with his eyes averted. Yet you hold your gaze.

You will not be weakened by the shame of your misery.

It is two days later when you confess to him; your throat still rasping as the pain in your head boils and toils beneath your skull. You look at him when he arrives, paint-stained shirt providing evidence of a messy day of working. “I don’t want to think about what happened to me anymore, Joel.”

Your tongue grabs at words the way young children do with sticky fruit in the summer. As if language has become foreign to you.

Joel, keys in hand, meets your gaze with a furrowed brow. “Sure, sugar. Whatever you need.”

Maybe your eyes were tricking you, but you could’ve sworn you saw his shoulders relax from some kind of tension leaving his body.

–

Joel doesn’t know what he had gotten himself into. What he does know is that for some reason, he couldn’t bear the idea of staying away from you. You tell him fragments of what little you remember, your concussed consciousness blindly clawing at every last bit of beaten brain matter for some kind of answer. 

You sometimes cry from the effort it takes you to think, but he’s there. The first few times, he held your hand. As the hours bled into days, he held you as you wet his shirt with warm tears. Sometimes, when the nightmares reach him in his own bed a few miles out from the hospital, it feels like you’re bleeding into him.

From the moment he saw you, he had been marked. And no matter how many times he scratched at his own skin, he could never wash away the blood on his hands.

–

He’s the one to take you home to your quiet little apartment, having grown dust in your absence. You apologize, he waves you off. He watches you as you peer out of the window, comprehending a view that had once been so mundane, transformed into some shred of a miracle for you to still be there, witnessing it all. He’s behind you, ten feet away, tilting his head as your hair catches what little sunlight blessed you the day you left the hospital.

He says your name, and you look back at him with a curious smile. “My God,” he followed. “You look just like starlight.” He steps forward, and that’s when you know everything had fallen into place. Without another moment lapsing, he takes your face into his hands, pulling you into a searing kiss.

You apologize so many times. For the hospital smell on your skin. For your trembling knees. For the dizzying sensation of human contact without the involvement of medical processes. For feeling so unclean.

Meanwhile, he apologizes, too. For kissing you. For pulling you to him. For holding you. For carrying you to the forlorn couch grown cold from the absence of human warmth. So many times that there are times that you don’t know what is there to apologize for. You shake your head each and every time.

The tears roll down your cheek just as he pulls away and his eyes immediately soften. You shake your head, pulling him into another kiss as you whine.

There are many things you want to tell him. But you don’t dare tell him this: Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you have been ruined.

“Tell me to stop, honey, and I will,” he murmurs, holding your cheek as you pause between touches. You shake your head immediately. You want many things. You are hungry and untamed. But you do not want him to stop.

You tell him as much. “Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

And he doesn’t. Not when you’re naked and he sees your bruised skin, purple and yellowed in places. He looks to you just as your body tenses. His demeanor softens, kissing along your jaw and your neck with a shaky breath.

“I won’t hurt ya, darlin’.”

He keeps to that promise. Even when your legs are around his waist and he’s caught in your warmth. He says it again and again as you whine into the cool, quiet solitude of your home.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

–

Falling in love with Joel was both so complicated and so simple at once. Whenever you wake beside him, you wake up writhing from the pain of your injuries; sometimes crying from the nightmares that followed every waking moment. You felt marred by shame for putting so much of your perceived burden on his shoulders. He never departs from your side, his strong arms placating you while his lips press against your temple.

It’s all so simple, the way he cares about you. And whether or not you admitted it, you like the feeling of being cared for. Of having someone that cares.

Regardless, you cannot escape the fact that someone did this to you. And whenever the pain shocks your body, everything but rabid rage escapes your body. You curse the stranger, whoever they may be, for that cursed night.

Joel sees glimpses of this. He saw it most that one afternoon when the hospital called, saying you had been taken care of. By who, they didn’t say. Only that the stranger apologized for what happened.

You were on the floor, hands trembling in the fists you held them in. The hospital bill crumpled a few inches away. You do not see him. What you see is all red.

A wail escapes your trembling mouth just as your hands claw at anything they can touch. It is an uncontrollable surge of blinding, mouth-foaming, unbridled rage. He’s there, trying to hold you down before you hurt yourself. Each wail pierces another hole into his aching heart. Each struggle followed by his gentle shushing, trying to assuage you in the crest of your emotion.

“Whoever it was,” you told him then as you sobbed. “They ruined my life.”

“Darlin, darlin’...” He breathes in, cupping your face. “Maybe he’s around and he regrets-”

“No!” You claw at him, just as he holds you tighter against his chest. “If he could find me, then he could say it to my face. He wouldn’t be some coward who left me alone like this after he ruined my life!”

It destroys him. And you can see it in his face. All he can do is hold you as you cry against his chest. All he can do is shut his eyes, letting the waves of grief crest over and over your frame. Letting your sobs tear him open and burn him out.

He tells you nothing lasts forever. That he’ll be there for as close to forever as possible. You shake your head because you know better. He says nothing lasts forever. He doesn’t know he’s just afraid your pain can last longer than he is capable of loving you.

–

Perhaps, to the end of his days, Joel will regret that drunken night. He’ll regret following his bleary gaze through the quiet, sleet-slick roads. He’ll regret the fact that he couldn’t have stopped his truck sooner.

When he steps out into the cold just as he smells the acrid scent of burning tires, he sees your bloodied face in your car. So small. So undeserving. He muttered a string of cusses. The sudden shock of adrenaline washing away the last of his drunkenness. He looks back at his truck, horrifically beaten, his gaze doubling from his last bout of drunkenness.

He bargains that night. Calls up someone high up amongst the police rank to bail him out. He negotiated for ten minutes. Then he hides the truck somewhere off the side of the road for him to come back to and dispose of. And then, only then, did he call for help.

Only then did he reach you in the driver’s seat, blood now caked to your skin as he lay you out amongst the concrete.

You make some sound, and he cusses to himself.

His rough palms cup your cheek, trying to get you to look at him then. But you were too far gone.

He spoke, anyway. Just in case you’ll hear it.

“It’s alright, doll. I won’t hurt you.”

Even now, weeks after he stole your life from you, he holds you and tells you the same thing anyway. The same set of words that manage to calm you down.

He does love you. And it breaks him every day to know he was the one to endanger you.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

[saradika]

can I pretty please ask for Circe inspired dividers and banners. MDNI ones as well as likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. xxx

hi Lu! @lovers-liability 💖 I would love to give this a shot - I looked at some artwork of Circe and the beautiful moodboard you had made to get some ideas for the themes and colors. Hope you like these! And that they are close to what you were looking for!

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[tsartistry]

I absolutely love your Niobe kidnaps Lester au!! In a post you said that Niobe was dating Circe, so I'm just wondering that since Circe is a witch, would she teach Lester some witchcraft? (Other than the ones you have to be born with)

No, at least not at first! Lester's brainwashing is a continuous process. There are times when Circe needs to cull memories that bubble up from time to time. If she teaches Lester how to practice her witchcraft, there's a small risk that he might realize she's been using magic to mess with his memories.

Since Egyptian magic is different from Circe's brand of witchcraft, she and Niobe are a little more comfortable with him learning it.

[elixs-mythology-corner]

GUYS

GUYS

@daonedaonlyskh @unhinged-waterlilly @psychicbluebirdmiracle and @cloud-anon (because you've been claimed by my pinging habits)

I NEED HELP

I NEED A NAME FOR NYMPH THAT WILL LIKELY NEVER BE SEEN EVER AGAIN.

[queenofthedisneyverse]

Story Idea! (Yeah...these are the things I think about when I'm bored)

WHAT IF (and hear me out here) Eurylochus had a lover that was ON the ship. Hence why he cares about the crew so much is because his lover is also on the ship/apart of that crew.

AND BEFORE YOU COME AT ME, I'm aware of Ctimene and I LOVE that ship but I kind of find it odd that he doesn't mention her. So, for story's sake, take this as an au where he and Ctimene aren't married.

First version of this "Au"

Let's call Eury's bf/husband "Evander". Evander grew up alongside Eurylochus, Polites, and Polites. Friends to lover's sort of thing. Let's say Evander and Eury got married shortly after Odypen did.

MLM marriages are accepted in Ithica because I said so.

During the more wholesome moments (Let's say, before Polites' death) both men get on Ody's nerves because both of them are so mushy and lovey dovey while he has to wait to get to his wife.

Yes, Ody would be the micro-hater who says "GET A ROOM" when they just glance at each other.

Evander fought alongside all three of his best friends in war and continued to travel with them. During moments where the crew would sleep, he would be there to comfort Eury (Especially after Polite's death...and the windbag situation.)

The line in Mutiny, "Don't make me fight you brother, you know you would have done the same"

Ody would have been referring to Evander in this situation in roles were switched. And he's not wrong, but Eury would burn the world down for Evvy.

BUT Ody told Eury to light six torches and one of those torches were handed to Evvy. And if Eury didn't think fast enough, Evvy would've actually been killed.

And you know how Eurylochus had his name chanted in the song? What if that was Evvy trying to get his husband's attention? Because all Evvy wanted right at that moment was comfort after watching more men get killed.

Once they reached Helio's cow Island, Eury would've killed a cow for solely him and Evander to share. There are tons of others the rest of the crew can pick but THAT one? It belongs to Evander.

And of course, because of this situation, he dies with Eury.

2. Second version

Everything is basically the same except Eurymene (Eury + Ctimene) and Evander are all married to each other.

(I HC Eury as Demisexual + romantic so he is in love with Ctimene. As far as Evander and Ctimene go, I'm not sure whether to put them in a platonic marriage or a romantic one.)

At first I thought this wouldn't work because I would think both husbands leaving would be a shitty move. Especially if a bunch of assholes would be shooting their shot when both men are gone, which means no one protecting her from sleezbags.

But then I remembered that Evander and Eurylochus both have families and hopefully upstanding men (Uncles, brothers. cousins) who would protect her if need be.

Now, here comes the sad part, what if Evander was given a torch? A torch given to him by Eury no less.

Imagine Eury seeing his lover getting brutally killed and the only thing that's left of him is his sandal.

He just saw a creature take his husband in one bite like it was nothing. Everything was like slow motion for him.

And you know what's worse?

Eury knew what was going on with the torches after two or three men had been eaten and before he could make it to Evvy he was already dead. He only saw his face one last time as they made eye contact.

At that moment, Eury couldn't think. He couldn't move. His breathing was quick as that sight kept flashing before his eyes over and over and over again.

The muscular man, as a final act of mobility, picked up his lover's sandal and fell to his knees. Eury didn't fully register that he was crying. He couldn't fully register anything after what happened.

His sobs, amongst the rest of the crew mates, were heard. Heavy loud ones. That sandal he held was tightly clutched to his chest, more like his heart.

You want to know what's funny? That sandal would always find some way off of Evvy's foot. Either when he walked too fast or ran, it would always find some way to slip off of his foot.

It was laughable back then, Irritating for Evvy, but laughable for everyone else.

But Eury couldn't find it in him to laugh or do much of anything besides cry his heart out.

Odysseus felt sick to his stomach at all the cries he heard, especially Eurylochus's. Tears and sobs from a man that would rarely cry at anything.

So, without even looking, he knew what happened. Some part of him hoped Eurylochus didn't hand Evander the torch. But six sacrifices had to be made, if Evander was one of them then so be it.

It hurt him, all of their cries did, he tried so hard to drown it out, but it wasn't working.

Soon, the men's sobs, Including Eury's, had died down. But that's only because they were all hoarse and exhausted. Ody knew Eury wouldn't have been strong enough to be second in command anymore, so he left him be.

They made it Helio's Island but no cows were eaten, the grass was. But surprisingly, most men didn't even feel like eating at all. They only did to keep whatever strength the had left to get back home.

Eury wouldn't eat at all, hell he couldn't even register Ody's voice when he told him to eat. All he did was stare at his lover's sandal. His death circling Eurylochus' mind to no end.

No one could talk him into eating or doing much of anything. Eury was too far gone and after too many tries, they all began to notice that.

He stayed in the far corner of the ship for the remainder of the trip. No talking, no thinking, just some quiet whimpers here and there and some tears if you looked.

By some miracle, they made it back to Ithica but all men on board were forever changed. The last few men that were on board got off the ship so fast you would've thought they had the gift of super speed.

The only one left was Eurylochus. He didn't know they were in Ithica. He stopped caring about his surroundings a long time ago. Odysseus couldn't bring himself to even attempt to talk to Eury, so the next best thing would be some family members of Eurylochus and Ctimene, his wife.

And oh boy did was that shattering. Eury's family loved Evander; he was a good guy. Ctimene loved him very much too (Like I said before, I can't decide between platonic or romantic love.) Now you mean to tell them he's dead? How on earth is HIS family going to take this.

After some coaxing from his wife and mother, he stood up and very very very slowly walked off the ship to his home. He didn't have the energy or will power to be quick on his feet anymore.

Once they made it home, Ctimene helped him into a bath. She tried to take the sandal, just so it wouldn't get wet, but Eury wouldn't let it go.

Not that she blamed him or was made at him for clutching it so tightly. That was the last thing he had from Evander.

After some good bath and some food Eurylochus was laid to finally rest. But he couldn't sleep. Every time he tried he just saw that creature clasp its mouth of Evander.

Safe to say, Eurylochus barely spoke from then on, and due to certain incident, was often left on su!cide watch. Over time he does open up but the grief and depression is still there.

It takes a lot to make him laugh, hell it takes a lot to even make him smile but it happens if you play your cards rights.

He never stops thinking about Evvy...and never will

-

Should I make a fic out of this, would you guys want to read it?

[extraterrestrial-chihuahua]

more sims shitposts bc I have an essay to write but nah

[circle-with-me]

Tag List Updates!

i’ve seen a few friends doing this and i haven’t updated my tag list completely since i started it several months ago so i figure now is a good time to go ahead and do it!

if you would like to be tagged in my fics, even if you are already being tagged, please fill out this form.

thanks 🤍

[charlottedabookworm]

odysseus!percy (still lacking in memories) when clarisse says theyre going for charybdis instead of scylla “awesome great can’t believe i’m saying this but for some reason i agree with clarisse and i hate that for me”

odysseus!percy ten minutes later when they scoot too close to scylla while dodging charybdis and scylla starts snatching the skeleton crew off of the deck “huh. huh. huh. they aren’t screaming and yet-“

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Of Spells and Sons

Summary:

Hob and his crew are stranded on an island after their ship got damaged from a storm. 

When his crew gets captured in a sorcerer’s palace, Hob follows and negotiates with the sorcerer to free them. 

He only hopes to resist getting ensnared himself.

Word Count: 7,310

Notes (more at the end):

For Dreamling Week Day 1: Indulgence and First Time

Have fun reading!

(Read on AO3)

---

The ivory gates stood tall on the sand, intricate carvings of fantastical creatures adorned every surface.

They looked exactly like how William described them; Hob had found the palace.

The most remarkable thing about the gates was that they were open. Hob would have expected such sturdy fortifications to serve the purpose of keeping people out, and perhaps it would have been better that way, if these gates had been closed and quite troublesome to open.

Perhaps then Hob would have had an excuse to heed William’s words and just leave while they still could.

But even as he pondered it, Hob knew that he would not be able to turn away when his men were still trapped inside. They trusted him as their captain, and he would not abandon them in the hands of a sorcerer.

Hob steeled himself and walked in.

The gates opened up to a garden; the sweet smell of herbs and flowers permeated the air, and birds twittered on a small fountain filled with flowing water. A set of steps led onto a wide porch where shelves of books were carved into the walls, reaching a tall ceiling decorated with a stained glass window which allowed colours to dapple softly onto the floor, the cushioned chairs, and what seemed like a large reading nook in the corner furnished with a round mattress and a few pillows.

At a glance, it looked just like what one would expect of a lord’s house, but the hairs on Hob’s arms stood on end. The air seemed to prickle, like the moment just before a lightning strike, and Hob recalled his conversation with William no more than half an hour ago.

“William?” Hob stood up from inspecting the damage to the ship’s hull. The storm last night had caused them to bash against an outcropping of jagged rocks on the beach, and until the hull was fixed they were left stranded. “Why are you back so soon? Where are the others? And by the gods, what happened to you?”

William’s eyes were wide and his breath came in huffs, sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool weather. Hob half-expected him to say that a wild boar was chasing him.

“A palace… There was a palace, Captain…” William ran a hand through his hair as he panted. “We were scouting the island like you ordered, and we came across a palace. The lord was out in his garden, and he invited us to dine. I hesitated to accept such a sudden offer, and I warned the others of the risks. But they were insistent, and in the end I didn’t stop them from going inside; we’ve had a terrible night dealing with the storm, after all. Still, something didn’t feel right, so I waited outside and kept watch…” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.

“Did the palace get attacked?” Hob asked in concern. He didn’t know anything about the inhabitants of this island, but perhaps the lord had enemies.

William looked back at Hob and shook his head. “There was a burst of light from inside, and I heard what sounded like a commotion. I was about to rush in to help, but I saw Hector running out. He grew a snout, and his screams turned to squeals as he shrunk down and grew a tail…” his hands trembled as he opened his waterskin and drank in large gulps.

There was a rustle behind Hob and he whipped around, a hand gripping the hilt of the sword at his hip.

A raven flew past him and perched on the roof; it seemed to have come from the tree nearby.

Hob let out a breath, forcing his muscles to relax. He would be slow in battle if he were too tense. He continued walking towards the porch, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He glanced up and saw that the raven was still on the roof. It had a spot of snow-white feathers on its breast, and the rest of it was black as night. Its beady eyes trained on him, and he felt a warning in that gaze that made him stop in his tracks.

“We have to go save them,” Hob told his second-in-command.

“No we don’t!” William said adamantly. “We already lost many of our men in the war and the storm last night. Think about the remaining ones before there are none. Let’s repair our hull as soon as we can and sail far away from this island with the rest of the men and Lady Marzana. You promised her safe passage to her home island, did you not? How will you do that if you are lost here?”

“I can’t abandon our men, William,” Hob said somberly. He could still hear the screams of the soldiers as the waves of the storm took them; they called out for him but he couldn’t do anything. He will not lose any more. “You don’t have to go with me, and if I’m not back by dawn tomorrow, prepare to sail away with the others.”

“We are no match against the power of a sorcerer; you don’t have to go either, Captain!”

“I have to try.”

Hob lifted his chin defiantly at the raven. He will not leave this place without first speaking to its lord.

The raven flapped its wings and flew further behind the palace, outside Hob’s line of sight.

Hob walked to the steps of the porch and ascended, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

There was a rustle, and a figure stepped out from behind one of the shelves, looking down at a book in his hands.

Hob stopped as his breath caught in his throat, all fear momentarily wiped from his mind as he took in the vision before him.

The man wore a silk robe that seemed woven from the night sky, its fabric catching the sunlight in such a way that it looked like stars were dancing across it. A cape draped over his shoulders and flowed down to his ankles, clasped at the chest with a crimson ruby. His skin was incredibly fair and yet it did not look pale as to be sickly, but rather as if the moon were lighting him up from within. Pitch-black hair grew untamed on his head, and Hob had the fleeting thought of wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

Brilliant blue eyes glanced up and aimed right at Hob.

“Lord of the palace?” Hob blurted out, if only to stall the sorcerer from attacking.

Those eyes narrowed at him and Hob felt the instinct to reach for his sword, but reminded himself not to do so lest he be seen as an attacker.

He was fortunate that Lady Marzana had been on their ship. She had overheard Hob's conversation with William, and warned him not to appear aggressive.

“What a noble heart you have, Sir Gadling.”

Hob stopped on his way into the forest and turned to face his unexpected companion. “Lady Marzana. I had thought you in the tent that the men had assembled.”

“I could not help but overhear your disagreement with William. Surely you do not intend to barge in the sorcerer's gates and demand your soldiers back?”

“Not barge in, no. Though I'm hoping that he would not be averse to a negotiation of sorts. There must be a compromise we could reach.”

Lady Marzana smiled but it did not reach her eyes. “Unfortunately, the sorcerer Morpheus does not share your inclination to see the good in everyone. You must be prepared.”

Hob frowned. “You know his name?”

He realised that he knew very little about Lady Marzana. She appeared before them after they won the war, as one of the healers in the island, then asked for safe passage aboard their ship to the island of Mercuria. Hob agreed as a show of thanks for her help in tending to their wounded, and it would not be an inconvenience at all because they would pass by that island on their way home to Ithaca.

But now that she revealed knowledge about the sorcerer, Hob remembered the little fortunes they have had since she came aboard their ship. Their nets were almost always bursting with fish after only some time in the ocean; the winds favoured their sails often, and the soldiers weren’t nearly as fatigued as they should be right after a long battle.

“Who are you?” Hob asked cautiously.

“Just a friend who can help you save your men. A foe such as Morpheus is not to be lightly trifled with. If you face him on your own with nothing but your sword, you will be no good to the friends you are attempting to rescue.”

Hob stared at Lady Marzana, gauging to see how much he could trust her. She had never lied to them, and whatever sorcery she did—for Hob was becoming increasingly certain that she was a sorceress herself—only helped and never harmed them. And in the unlikely event that she did intend them harm, there was a far more urgent enemy right now. And his men were waiting for their captain. 

Hob sighed. “What do I have to do?”

Lady Marzana seemed relieved at Hob’s acceptance of her help. “I advise you not to consume anything once you reach the palace, as he has the power to enchant food and drink. He wears a ruby that fuels his powers, and he may have only gotten stronger since we saw each other last. Even I do not know what he is truly capable of.”

“Can you cast a spell to shield me from his magic? I know how you helped us on the ship, surely you are powerful, too.”

“Not so against Morpheus,” Lady Marzana shook her head. “Which is also why I cannot go with you. Without his express permission, I cannot cross the threshold of his domain.” She held out her hand over a cluster of plants at the base of a tree; the ground trembled, and a flower floated into her palm, roots and all. “There lies a power within the root of the moly plant which would protect you from the sorcerer’s magic. You must consume it, and you will be granted immunity from his magic for ten minutes.”

“Only ten minutes? If I eat more than one, would I be protected for longer?”

“I’m afraid moly does not work that way, and it might do more harm than good if you consume any more.”

Hob nodded, feeling a little more confident in his plans. He took the plant and carefully held it in his palms. “Thank you, Lady Marzana.”

“Do not thank me, my friend. It is you who would have to face Morpheus,” Lady Marzana smiled gently.

“How do you know so much about him?” Hob wondered aloud.

“He is my brother.”

Now Hob stood in front of the sorcerer, who seemed nowhere near as friendly as his sister. And Hob had no delusions that he would be as helpful as she was.

“And who might you be… soldier?”

Hob swallowed. Morpheus’ voice was not as he had expected, as was everything else about him. For all of Lady Marzana’s warnings, she didn’t say anything about how utterly beautiful the sorcerer was. Not just in appearance, but with the way he carried himself, and how each word fell gracefully from his lips.

Hob had eaten the moly root before entering the gates, and now he seemed to feel its weight in the pit of his stomach, grounding him. Ten minutes. He had to move quickly.

He straightened his posture. “Captain Robert Gadling, my lord. I apologise for the intrusion, but I had been informed that the scouts I had sent to look through the island had wound up at your gates.”

Morpheus tilted his head. It was a subtle motion, but Hob felt gooseflesh all over his arms.

“You must be tired from being on your feet for so long; it is a long way from the beach. Take a seat, you may rest wherever you like. Allow me to bring you some refreshments.” Morpheus closed the book he was holding and placed it on a shelf.

“No,��� Hob answered immediately. “No, thank you, my lord. I should prefer to know if any soldiers have passed by here, or if I had been misinformed by my friend.”

Morpheus seemed to glide towards Hob, his footsteps barely making a sound as his cape softly billowed behind him. “There is no longer any need to worry. You are here now.”

They were standing close enough to each other that Hob had to look up to hold Morpheus’ gaze. Perhaps he should have felt alarmed that the sorcerer’s eyes were now black pools with pinpricks of light, but all Hob could think of was how much they looked like the night sky on a cloudless evening.

The ruby pulsing with a red glow on Morpheus’ chest eventually caught Hob’s attention, and he felt waves of warmth on his skin.

The sorcerer was attempting to enchant him.

“Quite right, my lord,” Hob managed to force a casual smile onto his face. “Then perhaps you might have a cup of tea to spare? I should like to wait here in case my soldiers pass by again, if it’s all the same to you.”

Morpheus nodded once. “Of course.” Without looking away from Hob, he waved a hand to the side and a cup floated towards them along with a teapot. “Stay as long as you wish.”

Hob took the cup in his hands, and the teapot floated back to a table in the corner.

The sorcerer's face remained impassive as Hob raised the cup to his lips, feeling the warmth of the drink in the steam that rose from it.

His plan was madness; more likely than not it would get him killed and his soldiers would be trapped as pigs for the rest of their lives. But it was the only plan he had. He must make haste and act upon it before the effects of the moly fully wore off.

Hob flung the tea in the sorcerer's face and smashed the cup on the side of his head.

As Morpheus yelled and stumbled backwards in surprise, Hob grabbed hold of the ruby pendant with one hand and pushed the sorcerer away with the other.

The pendant came off; the ruby hissed and smoked in Hob's hand before its glow disappeared, leaving the stone a dull red.

“Impossible.” Morpheus stared at Hob in bewilderment, tea dripping from his cheekbones and ceramic shards in his hair. “How are you unharmed after touching my ruby?”

“As you can see, my lord, magic has no effect on me,” Hob pocketed the ruby—he wouldn't risk the sorcerer getting hold of it again—and took out what remained of the moly plant. “So you might as well tell me where you took my soldiers.”

Morpheus used his sleeve to wipe the tea from his face, and his slender fingers brushed away the shards in his hair. His eyes fixed on Hob, but they were blue once more. “You are lying. No mortal can acquire the moly plant without dire consequence.”

“Then I must be a sorcerer like you,” Hob grinned. “For I dug this up myself with my bare hands and consumed its roots.”

“My sister gave it to you, did she not?” Morpheus narrowed his eyes in realisation.

Oh well. It was worth a try.

Hob pocketed the flower again and cleared his throat. “Regardless, my lord, you and I are now evenly matched. Without your ruby, you cannot cast your spells. Now release my men and we shall leave this place undisturbed,” he said with confidence that he did not feel. After all, he wasn't certain whether the sorcerer's magic was truly only limited by his possession of the ruby.

Morpheus’ lips twitched into what almost looked like a smirk. “Evenly matched? You presume that I would need magic to get rid of one such as you.”

He reached to his hip and drew a sword from a scabbard that was hidden beneath its folds.

Hob blocked the blade with his own just in time before it would have struck his neck.

Morpheus lunged and Hob sidestepped, the sorcerer's sword cutting through the air right next to his ear.

Hob pushed forward with his attacks, but Morpheus moved like a viper; he darted out of the way with refined footwork and struck back faster than Hob could track him.

Hob could feel himself getting tired. He was a seasoned fighter, but he had not gotten much sleep because of the storm last night and the sorcerer was evidently trained in battle as well.

He decided to go for a gamble, stepping inward and risking a closer reach from his opponent.

He gained a cut on his cheek, but he gritted his teeth and struck at the hilt of Morpheus’ sword, locking and twisting his blade before maneuvering it forcefully to the side.

The sorcerer's sword flew out of his grip and clattered on the marble floor.

Hob pointed the tip of his blade under Morpheus’ chin. “You’ve lost.”

He felt sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles ached from the exertion, but he kept his grip steady on his weapon.

Morpheus stared at him, and it made something twinge in Hob's chest when he saw an unexpected vulnerability in that gaze.

“Do you know what happened the last time we had welcomed soldiers like you in our home?” The sorcerer's voice was quiet, but Hob felt the weight behind the question, and he almost feared the answer. “It was a tragedy for all of us; I myself faced a heavy loss which I will never forget. So tell me, Captain, can you blame me for aiming to protect my subjects at any cost?” His eyes shimmered with unshed tears even as he glared defiantly, and there was something so deeply wrong about seeing such a beautiful creature in anguish.

Hob's hold on his sword wavered for a moment, but he tightened his grip. “I'm sorry to hear of that terrible misfortune, my lord, but you have my word that my soldiers are men of honour, and would never harm any innocents.”

“Your word?” Morpheus’ voice had grown deeper and he took a step forward, not giving notice to the blade pointed at his throat. “And what is that worth, the word of a soldier?”

He kept walking forward, and Hob instinctively pulled the blade back in order to not injure him.

“What can you do, Captain Robert Gadling, in order to prove your good intentions?”

Hob didn't realise he had been backing away until his back hit a wall.

Morpheus looked at him through his long eyelashes, and didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed Hob's sword to the side and out of the way. The movement caused him to shrug off his black cape, letting it fall to the floor.

Hob’s sword probably went the same way, though he barely felt it drop out of his hand as he tried and failed not to stare at the pale clavicle that the absence of the cape revealed.

“You have given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.” Morpheus leaned closer, his breath warm against Hob's ear. “But perhaps if you stay longer, we could… come to an agreement?” He ducked his head and the tip of his nose brushed Hob's jawline.

Hob's eyes fell close as his mouth dropped open in a shivering exhale.

He had just enough wits about him to sidestep and scramble away. “Lord Morpheus, I only wish to negotiate for the freedom of my men. Tell me your terms, and maybe I might persuade you to—”

“Persuade me?” Morpheus gracefully walked towards him, and Hob was vaguely aware that he wasn’t moving away nearly as fast as he should. “If you must, then, Captain, show me just how knowledgeable you are in the ways of persuasion.”

Morpheus put a hand on Hob’s chest and pushed.

Hob gasped as he fell backwards on soft cushions; he must have backed away towards the mattress without realising it, fool that he was.

Morpheus easily slipped between Hob’s parted knees and loomed over him with a promising smirk, propping himself up on his arms on either side of Hob’s head.

Merciful gods.

“Do not worry,” Morpheus purred as he lightly traced his fingers down the side of Hob’s neck to his chest. “I’ve got you now.”

Hob couldn’t help the soft groan he made as he arched into Morpheus’ touch, his body craving for more. He found himself placing his hands on the sorcerer’s narrow waist, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. How he wished that they had met in more normal circumstances; he would have liked to welcome this beautiful creature into his home…

His home… Ithaca… Robyn…

“I can’t,” he choked out and pushed the sorcerer off of him.

Hob nearly fell off the bed in his haste to stand up. He stumbled a few feet away and closed his eyes, digging the heels of his palms against his eyelids and taking a deep breath to get himself in order.

“My son is waiting for me back home,” his voice cracked with emotion. He put his hands on his hips and took another steadying breath. He knew it was unwise to keep his back turned on an enemy, but keeping the sorcerer in his sight didn’t do him any good either. “It has been five years since we lost his mother to sickness, I’m all he has. And I have been away at war for more than a year…” He could feel the fatigue and emotion well up in his chest, as if all that time away from home and his son were finally catching up to him.

He turned to face the sorcerer once more and did the only thing he could think of that might give him a chance.

He went down on one knee and bowed. “I beg of you, Lord Morpheus, let me and my soldiers go back home. Grant us mercy and we shall never disturb your island again.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats, and Hob held his breath, expecting to be struck down at any moment.

“Father?” a young man’s voice made Hob look up. “Jessamy said she heard sounds of battle.” He stood in the entryway and looked in concern at the sorcerer, and then cast a wary glance at Hob as he walked in. “Who is this man?”

Morpheus was still looking at Hob, an expression of contemplation on his face. “He was just leaving.” He turned to the young man. “Release the prisoners, and give them the potion to recover. Head to the beach where their ship is stranded. Bring Merv and immediately start on repairs.”

The lad looked like he had more questions, but in the end he just nodded and left the way he came.

“On your feet, Captain.” Morpheus took his cape from the floor and draped it once more across his shoulders. “It’s a long walk to the beach.”

“Wait, you’re helping us?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows as he stood up.

Morpheus sighed as if in resignation. “Yes. Now come along.” He headed for the gates without waiting to see if Hob was following.

Hob’s mind was still catching up to everything that had just happened, but he retrieved his sword and quickly went to walk alongside the sorcerer.

“You expect me to just trust you, after everything?” Hob raised an eyebrow.

“I do not.” Morpheus kept his gaze forward as they walked out of the gates. “I am merely taking you up on your offer to leave my home undisturbed.”

“Why are we going ahead of my soldiers? Can’t we wait for them?”

“Your soldiers would trust me even less after what I did to them. Orpheus has a far more trustworthy disposition. He will lead them back to your ship.”

“Orpheus…” Hob recalled the young lad’s blue eyes and raven hair. “Your son?”

“Yes.”

Things began to make sense; now Hob understood what could have convinced the sorcerer to let them go. It eased his worries a little to know that the help he was getting might be genuine.

“All right. Then, why are you here with me? I know the way back to the beach.” Hob didn’t bother to hide the suspicion in his voice

“I’m here because I’m interested.”

Hob’s eyes widened and his traitorous heart skipped in his chest. “In me?”

“In your experience.”

Hob almost managed to convince himself that he didn’t feel disappointed.

“You said that you are all that your son has. Why leave him to go to war?”

“Ah. I had to.” Hob stared in the distance, remembering that day he had to say goodbye. His tearful son had embraced him and Hob dearly prayed that it wouldn't be the last time. “A neighbouring kingdom was threatening to invade us, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let my little Robyn grow up under invaders. As king, it was my responsibility to lead the army myself.”

Morpheus looked at him in mild surprise. “You are their king?”

Hob chuckled. “Why, do I not look kingly enough for you, my lord?”

Morpheus gave him a curious gaze. “I have known kings who are content to let others die in their battles.”

Hob grimaced; it was always unpleasant to be reminded of his ancestors. “I’ve known them, too. Never did like them. But anyway, the war is won now. And it’s time I make it up to Robyn. He needs a father.”

Morpheus only hummed in acknowledgement. It would probably be wiser to be quiet the rest of the way. No reason to draw more attention from this dangerous sorcerer.

Only, Hob never claimed to be wise. And he always knew he was too curious for his own good.

“Orpheus. Where is his mother? Is she all right with him leading a group of armed soldiers across your island?” Hob recalled how his own mother fussed over him before he left for war.

Morpheus stiffened beside him, and for a moment Hob wondered if he had gone too far.

“She was killed. While protecting our son.”

Hob felt a sense of dread and he suddenly remembered what Morpheus had said when Hob’s sword was at his throat.

“Do you know what happened the last time we had welcomed soldiers like you in our home? It was a tragedy for all of us; I myself faced a heavy loss which I will never forget.”

“Five years ago.” Morpheus’ voice broke through Hob’s thoughts. “The sickness that took your wife was most likely the same one that brought scarcity throughout the kingdoms. Men were too sick to farm, to trade. And resources were dwindling. Soldiers came to this island under the pretence of friendship, then they turned around and betrayed us.” He recalled the events in a distant tone, as if they were things that happened to someone else. “I was not powerful enough then. They were taking whatever they could find, including people to be made slaves. I was shackled, and could do nothing as they took Orpheus as well. Calliope, she… She fought them. And she was killed in front of our son. In front of me.”

There was a silence that Hob didn’t dare break. He felt sick to his stomach. It broke him when Eleanor died, and she had gone peacefully in her sleep. He didn’t know what it would have done to him if she had been killed so tragically in front of him and Robyn.

Morpheus continued in a quieter voice. “I do not recall what happened next. Orpheus tells me that I gave a cry of anguish, and a bright light burst forth. When it dissipated, the soldiers were dead. I vowed then to never let that happen to my people again. To my son.”

The silence grew heavier; no sound could be heard apart from the leaves crunching underneath their footsteps. After a while, Hob managed to find the words.

“Your son, Orpheus. He’s worried about you.”

Morpheus turned to him with a frown. “What?”

“Have you ever talked to him, about your grief?”

“What my son needs is a strong father. I will not burden him.” Morpheus sounded offended.

“Isn’t being shut out by a loved one a burden in itself?” Hob pointed out. “He wishes to care for you as you do for him. You can let him in and still protect him.”

Morpheus’ frown deepened, but it looked more like confusion now. “And this is relevant to you? Why should you care about my relationship with my son?”

Hob shrugged. “Maybe I’m worried about you, too.”

Bewilderment appeared on the sorcerer's fair face. “I tried to kill you.”

“And I’ve killed many soldiers to protect my son. I’ve got no high horse to look down from.”

Morpheus stared at him with an expression that Hob couldn’t quite read. And before he could ask, a voice interrupted them.

“Captain!” William jogged over to them, several yards away from the beach where they could see repairs being done on the ship. “So it’s true, what Lady Marzana said. The sorcerer is our ally now?” He frowned at Morpheus.

“For the time being,” Morpheus said evenly.

“He is, Will,” Hob said. “He would help repair our ship if we promise to leave the island in peace.”

“You couldn’t just say that to us when we first arrived at your palace?” William was still frowning at Morpheus. “I knew my friends were fools to eat at your table.”

“Not you, though. I heard you talk to them, Will. Convincing them to leave. You were smart enough to see through my tricks, and clever enough to call for aid.” Morpheus’ blue eyes regarded William, and the latter seemed caught off-guard.

“I– Of course I was!” William said defensively, though Hob noticed that his face had gone red. And not from anger. “You couldn’t have gotten me to stay even if you tried.”

“Is that so?”

“Will,” Hob cut in. “Go help with the repairs. And make sure everyone gets enough rest and food before we sail.”

“Yes, Captain,” William nodded before going back to the ship.

“Do you talk like that to everyone?” Hob asked Morpheus, who just stared blankly at him.

“Like what?”

Like you’re trying to charm their pants off. Hob shook his head to clear it. Why was he even letting it affect him? “Never mind. Your sister’s tent is nearby, I can take you to her if you want.”

Morpheus nodded. “Lead the way, Captain Gadling.”

“Hob,” he said without thinking. ”If you’re going to call him Will, might as well call me Hob.”

“What?” Morpheus frowned in confusion.

Hob wanted to thwack himself on the head. Gods, but he was so gone for this man. “Uh, Hob. It’s what my friends call me,” he tried for a casual tone as they continued walking.

Morpheus tilted his head curiously. “And you see me as your friend?”

“I’d rather that than my enemy. We’re here,” he gestured to the tent ahead.

Just then, a figure walked out of it and beamed at them. “I thought I heard voices.” Lady Marzana approached. “Brother.”

“Sister.” Morpheus spoke with a mild hint of exasperation.

“I see you’ve met my friend Hob.”

“If he really is your friend then why send him to me? You knew I could have harmed him.”

“But I wanted to believe you wouldn’t. And I am pleased to see I was right.” Her eyes were twinkling as she looked at the two of them. “It is good to see you again, brother.”

Morpheus sighed. “And I you, sister. Despite your penchant for meddling with my life.”

“It always works out in the end, doesn't it?” She glanced at Hob and winked at Morpheus. “Anyway, I heard my nephew's voice. Is he here?”

“He is down at the ship, helping Merv with repairs.”

“Oh lovely! I shall go see him.” She made her way to the beach where they could hear the voices of men conversing.

Morpheus turned to Hob. “How do you know my sister?”

“She was a great help in healing my men after the war. So when she requested passage to Mercuria, we welcomed her to our ship. Though we didn't know she was a sorceress then.”

There it was again, the curious look from Morpheus. “You let a stranger onto your ship with no questions asked?”

“Like I said, she helped heal my men. It seemed only fair to help her in return.”

“A man who talks of fairness right after a war,” Morpheus mused. “You are too trusting, Robert Gadling.”

“Worked out in the end, though, right?” Hob winked, grinning as he repeated Lady Marzana's words.

A smile lifted the corners of Morpheus’ mouth; it was barely noticeable, but even his eyes were alight with mirth, and to Hob it looked like the sun coming out.

There was a loud snap from above, and Hob looked up to see a beehive attached to a broken branch falling right on his head.

Before he could react, a red glow surrounded the beehive, stopping it mere inches from his face.

Hob stared at it with wide eyes, frozen in place. The beehive slowly lifted, and Hob looked to see Morpheus with his hand out, his eyes black as the night sky and dotted with stars. He guided the beehive back into the forest where it disappeared into a thicket of trees far away from them.

“Last night’s storm must have weakened the branches. You must be cautious.” Morpheus’ eyes returned to their blue hue.

Hob gaped at him. “I thought you couldn't do magic without your ruby.”

“Yes. So it is fortunate that I have it now.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the red gem.

Hob looked down and patted his pockets, emptying them to see that he only had the moly plant and nothing else. “How…?” he looked at Morpheus.

“I took it back when you were on my bed.” Morpheus put the ruby back in his sleeve.

Hob’s mind suddenly recalled just what happened on that bed, and the sounds he had made at the barest touch from Morpheus. “Ah.” He cleared his throat and hoped the heat on his face wasn’t noticeable. “Wait, if you had that on you this whole time… You could have killed me.” Hob felt a chill down his spine. It was like being told that an arrow had almost hit him in the neck and he had no idea.

Morpheus arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Did you want me to?”

Hob stared at Morpheus with his mouth open, then he laughed, a proper one that made his shoulders shake. He couldn't help it. The relief of surviving the storm, successfully freeing his men, and now the certainty that he was right to trust this sorcerer. Morpheus. Who loved his son as much as Hob loved his own. Who would go to great lengths to keep his people safe, much like Hob did when he decided to sail off to war.

“Was that a joke, my lord?” Hob said in mock disbelief. “I didn't think you were capable of making one.”

“Crude.” Morpheus’ tone was affronted, but his lips held a smile.

A cheer rose up in the distance where the ship was docked, and they heard the sound of waves as the ship must have been pushed back into the water.

“Orpheus and Marzana do put a livelier spin on things whenever they are together,” Morpheus said fondly, looking in the direction of the sound. He turned to Hob. “It seems like your ship is repaired. Your soldiers would be waiting for you now.”

For the first time since sailing away, Hob felt some hesitation in going back home. He still wanted to, of course, but now… Maybe he could allow himself to want other things, too.

Hob stepped closer to Morpheus. “Can I… I mean, will I be able to… visit, here? Whenever? You're not going to magically make the island invisible after we leave?” He tried to laugh to make light of the question, but it sounded nervous to his own ears.

Morpheus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You wish to come back?”

Hob nodded and fidgeted with his earlobe. “I do.”

“Why?”

“I'm interested?” Hob tried for a charming smile.

Morpheus shook his head lightly in what Hob dared to believe was a gesture of fondness. “I would not conceal the island. You will find this place again if you wish.”

“All right. Good.” Hob shifted on his feet, stepping closer. “Are you sure you don't want to come with me to the ship?” He nodded to the beach.

“Quite sure. Even if Marzana has convinced your soldiers that I am not an enemy, it would be best if you are not seen with me. You cannot risk losing their trust.”

“Right.” Hob said, but somehow he still couldn't get his feet to move. It somehow didn't feel right to just leave.

Morpheus didn't make a move to leave yet either. And for a moment they just stared at each other.

“What you said about Orpheus… About not shutting him out. I will keep it in mind.”

Hob smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. You…” You deserve to be cared for, even if you don’t realise it. “You take care, Lord Morpheus.”

“And you as well, Your Highness,” Morpheus nodded politely. “Leaders deserve their rest after times of adversity. No one should have to put up a facade of strength all of the time.”

“Even you?” Hob teased.

“Even you. Hob.” Morpheus spoke sincerely, looking right into his eyes.

Hob’s breath caught in his throat. That soft, deep voice curled around his name as if it were something precious. It was a breath of a syllable, and yet Hob felt drawn to it. A moth to a flame. 

They were standing so close to each other, and Hob felt his mouth go dry. He instinctively licked his lips, and he noticed Morpheus’ eyes unmistakably track the movement.

Morpheus swallowed, a subtle thing, but Hob was already staring. His gaze lingered on the pale throat, traced up to rose-pink lips, to piercing blue eyes, imprinting each detail in his mind.

Morpheus’ face drew closer, and Hob’s heart was drumming so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t even tell who was leaning in. Maybe it was both of them. Maybe it didn���t matter. What mattered was Morpheus wasn’t pulling away, that they were so close they shared the same air.

Hob looked into the sorcerer’s eyes and saw an uncertainty he had never seen in them before. Morpheus knew what he wanted, but he was waiting, unsure whether Hob wanted the same thing.

Hob decided to remedy that.

He crossed the gap, holding the back of Morpheus’ neck as he pressed their lips together. Morpheus inhaled sharply in surprise, but then Hob felt hands on the small of his back, pulling him closer.

The glide of their lips against each other was soft, sweeter than Hob could have imagined. There was a split-second of irrational worry in the back of his mind; he had never kissed a man before, and he was afraid to be found lacking.

But then Morpheus’ tongue was tracing his bottom lip, and all thoughts fled him. He reached out with his own tongue and heard himself groan as Morpheus met him eagerly.

Hob could not on pain of death tell how much time had passed. It felt like he had always been here, exploring the heat of Morpheus’ mouth, clutching at his midnight hair. After everything he had done as king, as captain, Hob felt that he deserved such indulgence, heedless of how it might slowly be driving him mad. Morpheus held him close, returning the kiss with equal fervour, his arms strong and sure around Hob. 

When they parted, they were both flushed and out of breath. The sight of Morpheus—with his cheeks red and his enraptured eyes focused entirely on Hob—was something Hob knew he would never forget even if he tried. And he certainly wasn’t going to.

“I…” Hob finally remembered how to speak. “I’ll come back, after—”

Morpheus put a finger to Hob’s lips. “No promises, Hob Gadling,” he said softly, before releasing Hob’s lips to caress his cheek. “We have this moment, now, and that is enough. I am… glad. To have met you.”

Hob leaned his forehead against Morpheus’ own, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. “Me too, Morpheus. Me too.”

They finally pulled away from each other, then Hob grabbed Morpheus’ face with both hands and kissed him again, only for a moment, but it was firm and adoring. He took a moment to look at Morpheus’ face, now soft with mild surprise as opposed to the cold stoic one he had first seen.

Hob smiled, nodded, and turned away to quickly head to his ship. He was afraid that if he stayed a second longer, he would find more reasons not to leave.

***

Hob stood at the stern of the ship as they sailed away, watching the island get farther and farther. Behind him, he could hear William shout orders, could hear the soldiers’ footsteps as they manned the sails and secured the rigging. But all of it seemed so distant, as far away as the stars that were beginning to come out.

“Feeling alright, Captain?” Lady Marzana walked up beside him.

Hob smiled politely, but he could feel that it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, my lady. I just need a bit of rest, that’s all.”

Lady Marzana nodded and followed Hob’s gaze on the island. “I hope my brother did not give you too much trouble.”

“No more than I gave him,” Hob said easily, the smile on his lips now genuine. He had a suspicion that it would always be the case, him grinning like a fool at the mere mention of Morpheus.

The look that Lady Marzana gave him was both intrigued and knowing, and Hob averted his gaze as he felt his face warm.  

“Ah, I see.” Lady Marzana chuckled. “It’s good to see that you two got along quite well. Meanwhile, I shall get some rest myself. Captain,” she tipped her head politely.

Hob returned the gesture, and he was left alone once more.

With the winds favouring their sails, the island was now only a small speck of green in the distance. As he watched it get even smaller, Hob made a promise to himself.

What they shared on that island might have been enough for Morpheus, but not for Hob. With the stars as his witness, he will return to Morpheus. And if the gods were merciful, Morpheus would want him still.

He looked up at the sky and felt himself smile, taking a deep breath of the refreshing ocean breeze. Robyn was waiting for him back home. Morpheus—though Hob dared not hope too much that he was waiting—was on an island not too far away. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt excited.

Mornings of laughter with his rambunctious child, warm evenings with his beautiful sorcerer. Some might say that his fantasies were far too banal for a king to have, but Hob didn’t need anything else.

With such a future ahead of him, there was so much to look forward to.

And so much to live for.

---

Notes:

This is the result of two of my hyperfixations combining in my brain. I hope you liked it!

Here are the songs from The Circe Saga that I based this fic on:

Puppeteer

Wouldn't You Like

Done For

There Are Other Ways

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! <3

---

(Dreamling Week 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[powerfulscribbles]

Odyssey AU where Varré plays Circe and offers a magic concoction to Tarnished that turns them into lambkins. That's it send post

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

I was reading Sea of Monsters (again) when I got to the part where the guinea pigs were turned back into men when suddenly I had an original thought!

There were lots of guinea pig pirates, you know.

And uh... Toby Stephens was a pirate, the great and dearly beloved Captain Flint.

So what I'm throwing around is... AU where Captain Flint got cursed to be a guinea pig with his crew or something like that?? Would be hilarious as a crack fic!

Furthermore:

Percy: Dad??? Captain Flint: I beg your pardon? Percy: ... Percy: ... oh wait nevermind-

[divinehedons]

i propose: self-deprecating king joel miller dealing with the fact that he gets to have you, goddess divine and eternal.

we're talking about a man who felt too old taking care of baby ellie despite being the most girl-dad girl-dad there is. we're talking about a man who has spent twenty years of the end of the world keeping to himself and pushing people away because he thinks it would make things better.

so when you came, doe-eyed angel with the libido of the devil, it would have taken no time for him to start thinking why you would be better off with someone else. he's fuckin' ancient, knees always aching, and... things don't work as they used to anymore. he's not the gunslinging knight he once was some age ago. and whether or not you admit it, he's an old man who sleeps in more and more the longer you date.

all that doubt comes seeping out one evening in jackson, when you're both walking home after a night out on the town. "sorry to cut the fun short, doll," he had been saying, arm around you as you huddle closer for warmth. "and for an achin' hip, nonetheless."

you laugh, moving to squeeze his hip with one hand as you shake your head. "are you kidding? my feet are both cold and hurt. i'm glad you suggested it."

a long breath emanates from him, painted by a cloud of fog in the cold night. "just feels like i'm not lettin' you have your fun." you know that tone, that unassuming, almost invisible shadow of self-deprecation you've been hearing more and more nowadays. and, knowing he'd feel worse if you mentioned it, you were momentarily struck by a legible course of action.

and then it comes naturally to you.

you squeeze his hand, planting a warm kiss to his stubble with a chuckle. "you now what sounds good? cuddling in bed while we're waiting for a pot of coffee to brew." you feel his cheeks spread unconsciously, a chuckle escaping him before he could stop it.

you take care of him that evening, telling him to prepare the bed, saying, "i wanna do it, baby, pleaaaase!" you both stay up, reminiscing the memories you shared, your laughter barely muffled, knowing the two of you are entirely isolated in your own little world.

"you know how i knew i was in love with you?" you whisper, snuggling into his side as you both hid under the covers. "when you patiently taught me how to hunt. that, no matter how clumsy i was, you cared enough for me." you kiss him chastely, feeling sleep creep into your skin as your eyes turn heavy. "and i thought to myself: dear god, you deserve the world."

with a final giggle, you succumb to your exhaustion.

"and you always will, joel."

[lorianbladeoflothric]

And if that art made me want to write some edgy bs about Marika’s oldest kids cutting each others’ cursed eyes out will you judge me?

Like, I don’t really like geq Melina but the idea of her willingly partially blinding herself bc she and Messmer want to protect their mother, only to realize years later (after he’s already left to fight a war with no end or purpose) that actually the fire she saw was a good thing and not a curse, and cutting out her eye didn’t stop her from being able to burn the erdtree and cause the godskin apostasy.