#circe writes

[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.

[circeyoru]

Love Trial = Requested

[Sung Jinwoo x High School Ex-Lover!Reader]

The Requests ― Part 1 (here) ― Part 2

Sung Jinwoo. The Hunter who was praised for his bravery and selflessness, the Hunter who was the embodiment of Cinderella, and the Hunter who was hailed as a hero no matter where he went and how he acted. All because he acted for the good of the people around him, be it former foes or strangers in another country, he protected all. He was humanity’s strongest shield and sword against the dangers of the monsters within the vile Gates.

Yet to you, his shining image was clouded with the shadows that surrounded him. In your memory of him, one stood out more than the rest, more than the good deeds he’s done, more than the joyous memories you made with him.

“I’m sorry. Let’s break up.”

His words pierced your heart and body like no other. The shield you held over your heart was long gone and the walls you built around you long crumbled, all because of the knight in front of you. You can’t say you didn’t expect it, you have and mentally prepared yourself, still… It hurts oh so much.

“I understand. I wish you happiness, Hunter Sung. May your days be nothing of smiles and content.”

And you turned and left to hide your tears. Even knowing that Jinwoo would one day leave you because he was stronger now and would have more and better choices, you craved—clung—to the fantasy that he wouldn’t leave you behind after everything that you’ve done for him. You drank till your body couldn’t handle and your bartender friend called in your reliable friend from back in your college days. You cried in his chest. Why? Why weren’t you a Hunter as well? You could have done more! More for your dearest lover! Maybe then, you wouldn’t be abandoned. 

That night was agonizing to live through. It was the worst day of your life. Perhaps, you were in love with the idea of love. You and Jinwoo did fall for the other over some silly comment and gossip from your classmates, then you started seeing the other differently. You two thought they were right and loved each other like actual lovers. How immature of you. Look what that led you?

It took some time, but you recovered with the help of your college friend. He helped more than you could ever thank him for. If he weren’t such a workaholic or that heated up then maybe your heart could have been swayed. Still, you knew for a fact; that you couldn’t—wouldn’t—be in another relationship any time soon.

When the world appeared to be coming to an end, you stared out your apartment window and sighed. Jinwoo must be saying his final farewells to his loved ones; his mother, his younger sister, that brother of a Hunter Jinho, and his new lover Cha Hae-In. It didn’t ache as much now than before when you thought about their official relationship and Jinwoo moving on so quickly while you took your time recovering. Now, you were fine with the time you had for yourself.

Your phone rang and you picked it up without a thought, a voice spoke from the other end. “World’s ending, thought I should check up on you.”

“How nice of you.” You chuckled from your end and retreated back into your apartment and away from the window, “Aren’t you busy with your guild affairs to call me?”

“I can still rest, can’t I? Here I was being nice and now I’m scolded.” You hummed, knowing the man from the other end heard it loud and clear. There was a pause before he continued, “Any regrets? Might as well say it since the world is ending.”

“Why should I tell you?” You meant it as a tease since you two have been close and shared a lot with each other. Way more that people could have confused you two as lovers at some point.

“Think of it as a goal for your next life. I wish we had our silly friendship and that there were no more beasts to fight off so I could work.”

You remained silent for a while. What would you wish for? What was your regret? You glanced over to a corner, you know it was because of the lighting that there was a shadow, but you couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain someone. Your lips moved while your eyes were glued to the shadow, speaking your mind, “I regret having let down my guard for him. I wish… I never met him.”

Whether it was the heavens taking pity on you or cursing you, you can’t tell. The moment you woke up, you were back home and alive. The only difference was that you have shrunk. No. That’s too light of a term. To be more specific, you have turned back to a child. It made no sense whatsoever that it was a dream. A dream too realistic since you could feel the clothes covering your body and the wind against your skin, even smell the familiar cooking of your parents. Not to mention, eat it!

You accepted it as reality when a week passed and nothing changed. You figured that you were reliving your life due to regrets. Or maybe a lot of people had regrets so everyone is reliving their lives right now. Yet you were the only one who seemed to have remembered anything about Hunters and Gates. Well, the moment you realized that, you shut up and said it was all a dream to anyone you asked, a child’s fantasy is wild after all, so none was the wiser. 

First things first, though, you had to avoid being in the same high school as Jinwoo. Easy enough as you had another school that was much closer to your apartment now. It was so easy for you to change your future since you were the only one that know what would happen. Cha Hae-In is Jinwoo’s fated lover, so at some point, they’d meet each other and fall in love. No surprise, but you want to be away from that drama.

“Dear! Can you get the door for me?” Your mother’s shout brought you out of your musical trance.

“Yes, mom!” You placed your violin down and hopped onto the couch. Your footsteps pitter-patter through the floor. You reached the door and opened it, knowing the metal fence as the outer door was closed to protect you in case of an attempt at breaking and entering. “Who is it—?!”

The bright red hair and the matching red eyes, you recognize them anywhere. The boy in front of his parents smiled with his head bowed to give his greetings. “Hello! I’m Choi Jong-In, your new neighbour. I’ll be studying at XXXX Middle School if you want,” His closed-eyes smile softened as his eyelids opened again to meet your shocked gaze. “We can walk to school together.”

Words seemed to have been sucked out of your mouth as you stared at the boy. Your parents had come to the door and welcomed the boy inside while you were still in a daze. In the past, you had never met Jong-In this early; you met him when you two were in college and Jinwoo in high school. Perhaps because you avoided meeting Jinwoo, now you met Jong-In. Well, you can’t complain. It was a good change.

“What a coincidence! We go to the same school.” You smiled back and introduced yourself. He repeated your name, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. And so started your friendship with your former best friend from your past life.

.

. 

.

As time passed, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years. There were no such things as Gates or Hunters or even mana. Everything was just perfectly normal, just as you pleased. You momentarily looked up from your phone at the cluster of people before you stared up into the sky. Your eyes widened as you caught sight of what appeared to be a Gate in the sky. Even after a few moments, nothing happened, and no Hunters were awakened. You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

You passed by an ice cream shop and wondered if you should grab a cup of ice cream while waiting for your friends. Your attention was taken away when your phone buzzed and you looked down once more to see what the notification was about. Ah, your friend’s here.

You walked away from the shop and entered the crowd, entirely missing the boy who rushed out of his seat from the window table and tried to catch you. You heard your name being called out, and you went in that direction, finding the redhead waving his hands in your direction. You chuckled and went over to him. “Hey.”

“Hey to you too, let’s get out of here. It’s so crowded.” Jong-In placed his arm around your shoulders and led you away from the crowd. 

When you look back up at the sky, nothing happens, and the crowd starts to disperse. As you and Jong-In chatted up a storm, ignoring the chatter around you two, you also didn’t notice how the boy had stared at you longingly with guilt and envy in his eyes while the shadows around him twisted and swirled, reflecting his conflicting emotions. 

.

.

.

“Have you heard? That running star, Sung Jinwoo, is going to this college too!”

“I heard! I also heard he’s still single too!”

“You think I got a chance with him?”

“No way. I heard he’s a heartbreaker! Even Cha Hae-In’s no match for him.”

“Aw… That’s crazy.”

You stood up and moved to another seating area with a deadpan emotion. After finding a good seat, you sat down and returned to whatever you were doing on your phone. Up until now, you had been able to predict what happened since that was the point in time that Jinwoo went to become a Hunter. Basically, since high school, you were on your own. You managed just fine because the moment you weren’t in the same school as Jinwoo, it was the same as you never having to meet each other. Even better as it saved you from heartache and unnecessary emotions.

Still. You were beyond confused as to why Jinwoo wasn’t together with Cha Hae-In when they were so lovey-dovey in your previous life. There’s no way you heard it right. Gossip is just that, gossip. It’s never true, and even if some parts are, the majority of them are twisted to match whatever the listener and speaker want to hear or know. 

The students in the lecture hall suddenly squealed as they all whispered about the newest student who came in. You glanced up and huffed with a smirk, watching with a teasing look at Jong-In, who was called by men and ladies alike. He was popular, after all. He came to your seat and gave you that gentlemanly smile, “Come on, you free to go now?”

“Geez, not sure. I feel like sitting a bit longer.” You taunted shamelessly.

You watched as his eye twitched and his smile widened dangerously. “Don’t be such a tease. You know we’ll be late for lunch.”

“Lunch is a whole few hours long; we can afford to be late for a few… say… 30 minutes or so?”

At your words, Jong-In immediately started packing your belongings for you, strapping your bag over his shoulders, then pulling you out of your seat and dragging you out of the hall. People all cooed in your direction, some even whistled. 

You let him do so until you two were in a more secluded hallway when you spoke up. “You know I was just teasing. Who told you to be so popular?”

“And here I thought having you around me would ward off people…” Jong-In sighed, finally letting you go of your hand. “Sorry for being rough.”

“It’s no big deal.” You shrugged and took back your bag. “So, the confessions are still sky high?”

“Not sky high, but still a number of them.” Jong-In fixed his glasses, raking his hair with his fingers, “Seriously, I just want to focus on my studies and get started on my work!”

You and Jong-In have been close and the best of friends, in the past and current life. In both lives, he was basically married to work, or study at the moment. Jong-In had no want for romance, and you avoided the whole romance thing, so both of you came to the agreement of being a fake couple to ward off other people. Since you two were close enough to do what couples do without feeling romantically attracted to the other, well, nothing like kissing but hand-holding and hugging was acceptable.

Jong-In looked over to you, who was still very much unaffected and chill about everything. The winds seemed to pick up when his words escaped his lips. “What will you do if Sung Jinwoo finds you when I’m not around?”

Your eyes darted to his before you blinked and looked out the window, “I doubt it. Let’s just say I have a strong feeling that he’s making a mistake if he does come to me.” You smiled at Jong-In while your eyes seemed devoid of light. “I’ll just direct him to the right one.” You blinked and, like a switch, returned to normal. “Why the sudden question?”

A finger of his pointed behind you, “Because he’s coming in this direction and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Note: First part out! This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while, sorry it took so long. As you could tell, I had other stories and stuff to do. But it's out! Thoughts, everyone?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

[ghostvibesonly]

THERE ARE OTHER WAYS DID NOT GO WHERE I WAS EXPECTING IT TO OH MY GOD /POS

PENELOPE’S THEME AND INSTRUMENT?? ODYSSEUS BEING QUITE LITERALLY BACKED INTO A CORNER AND HAVING SEEMINGLY NO OTHER WAY TO SAVE HIS MEN BUT STILL NOT BEING ABLE TO BRING HIMSELF TO GO THROUGH WITH THE ACT (EVEN THO IT WOULDN’T BE A TRUE ACT OF BETRAYAL BECAUSE THERE’S NO ACTUAL CONSENT ON HIS SIDE AND IT WAS SOMETHING HE WAS ABOUT TO BE COERCED INTO)??? CIRCE BEING TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF BEFORE AND BELIEVING THAT “BECOMING THE PUPPETEER” IS THE ONLY WAY TO KEEP HERSELF AND HER NYMPHS SAFE SO SHE OFFERS THIS “ACT OF PASSION” TO STILL HAVE A FORM OF CONTROL, AND THEN SEEING ODYSSEUS IS NOT LIKE THOSE BEFORE BECAUSE HE’S SO IN LOVE WITH PENELOPE (WHO HE HASN’T SEEN IN 12 YEARS) THAT HE REFUSES HER OFFER AND PLEADS BECAUSE IT’S NOT WORTH IT EVEN THO THATS THE ONLY OPTION HE’S BEEN GIVEN??? HIM CALLING HIMSELF A PUPPET MAKING HER REALIZE THAT THIS CYCLE OF ABUSE AND CONTROL ISN’T WORTH IT ONLY TO COME TO A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE TRULY IN LOVE AND TO BE HURT, SO SHE OFFERS HIM AN ACT OF KINDNESS INSTEAD???

“Maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road”

[g0blinm0d3]

Hermes was Alexander Hamilton.

Zeus made him mortal as a punishment in the 1700s.

George Washington, son of Athena, was the demigod that claimed his service.

Angelica was a Sally Jackson type that could see thru the mist.

Eliza was a Tristan McLean type that wouldn't have been able to comprehend the truth.

Phillip was a demigod.

Hermes later adopted the pseudonym Lin Manuel Miranda, writing and starring in his own biographical musical as a "fuck you" to Apollo

When Disney announced they were going to produce Percy Jackson's biography he made sure to get himself involved with that

Hermes is also Troy Doherty and voices himself for Epic the Musical

[black-is-beautiful18]

I really hope they hook Leah up in s2 cuz look at the potential!

Art is by sniffanv on Twitter

[cb-writes-stuff]

Therapist: White Guy CEO Hermes isn’t real, he can’t hurt you.

White Guy CEO Hermes:

[thaliasthunder]

odysseus: men with long hair are such sluts. what do u have long hair for? for other men to pull it?

achilles: wha

odysseus: whore.

[madbard]

“Hunger is so heavy.”

I want to take a moment to rant about the role of hunger in Epic - specifically, the way nearly ever single saga is, at its core, a story about hunger and the way it affects us.

Let’s start with the Troy Saga. Odysseus’ men have won the war and are finally headed home when they run out of food. Upon discovering an island, Eurylochus immediately suggests they attack and take what they can. Right off the bat, the story associates hunger with violence. As we all know, Odysseus resists, and travels with Polites to the island of the lotus eaters - a society that has sacrificed their free will to slake their hunger for the glowing lotus fruits. If not for Odysseus recognizing the fruit, the crew could very well have met the same fate. Their hunger would have led to them losing their freedom forever.

Moving onto the Cyclops saga, the events of the Odyssey begin in earnest when Odysseus’ men slaughter Polyphemus’ sheep because they are starving. In response, Polyphemus decides to slaughter the entire crew and eat them instead - suddenly, theirs is not the only hunger that threatens their lives. The only reason they are able to escape is because Odysseus tempts Polyphemus with the “world’s best-tasting wine,” thus defeating the cyclops with his own thirst (I’m not going to differentiate between hunger and thirst here, as they are both intense physical cravings). Here, hunger is both a weakness and a threat. Giving in to hunger can lead to death and destruction, but hunger can also be used as a weapon, if you are clever.

Next up is the Ocean Saga. (This is where I start to seriously bend the definition of “hunger.”) This is the first saga in which food or lack thereof does not play a direct role. Here, Odysseus faces a new form of desire: exhaustion. Going back a bit, I described hunger as an intense physical craving for food. Well, what is exhaustion if not an intense physical craving for sleep? In this saga, Odysseus is given the chance to make it home. All he has to do is keep the storm trapped, and in order to do that, he has to stay awake. Odysseus resists his exhaustion for nine days, fighting off his desperate desire for sleep. But eventually, he relents and drifts off - which is when Eurylochus releases the storm and Poseidon kills all but 43 members of Odysseus’ crew. Once more, yielding to ‘hunger’ leads to tragedy.

Moving on to the Circe Saga, literal hunger plays a role yet again as Circe’s first move is to offer Odysseus’ men “something to eat.” The men soon discover that Circe enchanted their meal; upon eating, they are transformed into pigs - animals infamous for devouring anything in front of them. Here, hunger is portrayed as something animalistic, something which reduces the men from thinking, civilized beings to creatures, little better than livestock. Just a song later, though, Odysseus becomes powerful enough to face Circe when he consumes moly root. Notably, his consumption of this root was based on strategy, not hunger - a small but important distinction as it separates his consumption of the moly from his crew’s consumption of Circe’s meal. Wrapping up the Circe Saga, we have an entirely different kind of hunger as Circe offers to let Odysseus’ men go free if he shows his true colors in “acts of lust.” He refuses the promise of physical satisfaction because of his loyalty to Penelope, and in doing so, he earns Circe’s respect and assistance. Earlier in Epic, we were shown the power of hunger to inspire violence, tragedy and destruction. Here, we see it as an animalistic urge - the distinction between animals and men, then, is their capacity to resist such desires.

Writing this, the Underworld Saga was very frustrating for me because I could not find any significant references to hunger in any of the songs. Thinking back on it though, I wonder if that in itself is significant. The saga that takes place entirely in the world of the dead is the first saga not to heavily involve hunger or other forms of physical desire. Resisting hunger may be what distinguishes men from animals, but feeling hunger is what distinguishes the living from the dead.

Finally, we reach the Thunder Saga. The crew has run out of food for a final time, and in the grips of hunger, Eurylochus closes the cycle begun in the Cyclops saga when he slaughters the sun god’s cattle. At this point in the story, Eurylochus no longer believes they can return home. Eurylochus is exhausted, starving - he cannot bear to suffer any longer. Though Odysseus protests, Eurylochus insists that the crew cannot go on like this. They cannot survive much longer on these seas. His final defense as he slaughters the cattle? “I’m just a man.” The only person begging him to stop renounced his humanity in the Underworld.

Throughout Epic, hunger is a constant force. It inspires violence, steals free will. Submitting to it leads to tragedy, but it can also prove a powerful weapon. To resist it for a time is to be more than an animal. To feel it is to be alive. We cannot escape it forever, can’t fight it forever. In the end, we are bound by the needs of our fragile, ephemeral bodies. In the end, we must give in. And maybe, just maybe, that is what makes us human.

[backpackingspace]

Its really interesting that we've come full circle with odysseus. Like what is the manwhore au except the modern version if everyone post Homer writing odysseus sleeping with everyone? And beyond that from what I've seen (which granted is very little) the manwhore au stories are just a more consensual version of what happened with circe.

[gothamite-rambler]

Circe (annoyed): All these new-fangled spell names. “Oh, I cast nipple twister,” and “Oh, look, I can cast testicular torsion.” Well, I cast “Endometriosis"!

Circe waved her fingers and directed her spell at Zatanna as she shouted the spell name.

Zatanna (suddenly hit with the spell, eyes widening in shock): What—My vagina!

Zatanna toppled to the ground, moaning in pain, causing the other women in the room to back away, hands raised defensively.

Circe (smirking, gesturing dismissively): Yeah, yeah, don’t test me! I researched the disease. Men can get it too! It’s rare, but I will hit you with the spell!

The male heroes exchanged nervous glances and took a cautious step back as well. Zatanna slowly rose to her feet, clearly struggling.

Zatanna (voice strained but determined): Give me like five minutes, and then we’re fighting. Fucking witch bitch.

[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."

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason _ Part 3

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 (here) — Part 4

“Sung Jinwoo is an S-Rank Hunter…”

“Another one…”

“It’s been 2 years since Cha Hae-In too.”

Nowadays, the emergence of an S-Rank Hunter and some A-Rank Hunters was like a demon had crawled out of hell and into the human world to cause destruction. Strong Hunters were seen and painted as a double-edged sword. On one hand, they could bring about peace to normal—non-awakened—individuals by closing gates and raiding dungeons. On the other hand, they could bring about destruction in their wake due to <Outrage> and the innocence would be harmed. 

Protocols like an awakened Hunter must report to the EMI instead of the Hunter Association because they have to keep track of stronger Hunters. Hunters must continuously measure their mana levels in case of a reawakening into a higher rank. It was unavoidable, no matter which country, because they prioritized ordinary people more. 

Perhaps the only place where EMI regulations can’t touch is America. After what Thomas Andre had done, he singlehandedly protected his fellow Hunters and announced to the EMI that they couldn’t have their way with people who worked to protect them from the dangers known as gates and dungeons. There were some Hunters that escaped to America to join Thomas and his stance, there were also some that were unluckily caught by the EMI, and some that didn’t do anything. Such is the sway of a National Level Hunter. 

Unlike Thomas, who had no weaknesses to use against, Jinwoo was different. His family, his mother and younger sister, were dependent on the society and their system. So, against his better judgement, Jinwoo bowed to the whims of the EMI and was taken in as SM-10. 

In the facility, he underwent several tests to draw a profile for him since he was fundamentally different from his E-Rank file. Anyone could see at a glance. Jinwoo kept his cards hidden because the more capable he was, the greater the danger his loved ones would be in. He was doing everything for his family. Upon capture, he was promised that his family would receive financial support so long as he behaved himself. 

A cowardly but effective threat and compromise that he agreed. 

Still, he hated the people who worked in this accursed building. All those labourers who hid behind a mask and voice changer donned uniforms that displayed their station. Throughout his days, he observed a few groups of workers. 

First was the type that he frequently came into contact with: Guard. As their station name, they guarded things, from equipment to rooms and even Hunter cells. They were the ones that handled conflict and violence, even the heavy lifting, if any. Those who were higher ranked were called Warden; however, he only saw them during his testing sessions when they were making his profile. They all wear black masks—Warden’s mask is black with a white scratch mark over the right eyehole—and black soldier uniforms.

Second was the type that constantly changes to the point he doesn’t even keep track of: Supervisor. Contrary to their high-standing title, they do the smallest and most insignificant tasks, like delivering supplies, checking Hunter cells, and being an owl so passing messages. They were low-ranking workers that most wouldn’t bat an eye to if gone. Perhaps that’s why they have a grey uniform and a grey mask. Their code went as high as the hundreds, going to the thousands. 

Third was the type that he hated most: Investigator or Researcher. They were the ones who administered the tests and punishments to the Hunters, and they monitored them inside their cell. Under their glances, a Hunter is reduced to a mere lab rat. They were individuals connected to the EMI but needed to be more important to make a—any—difference in the building. However, they were respected in some sense because some did aim for the betterment of the Hunters staying in the building. They wear a white mask with a mocking grin and a white uniform, complete with a lab coat.

Last was the type that intrigued him the most: Personnel. Though their code suggests they have people in the hundreds, there was actually only a handful of them in the building. The highest number he saw was 12. They were the ones with the most authority and well-respected individuals among the other groups, their work and station varied from individual to individual. They were the ones that stayed in the building the longest, and a new Personnel would only join their ranks if they carried confidential information about the EMI. 

One would notice there doesn’t seem to be a highest position or individual, but the Personnel were the ones who acted as the say of the facility. None had absolute power to keep each other in check, and in case a threat was targeted, if one fell, the other would continue in the other’s place. The smaller the number, the bigger their authority, it seems. 

Personnel 001 was once his observer during the tests, when he could let loose. After all the observation and boredom, Jinwoo accidentally killed them and was quickly restrained. He paid close attention to what happened. Would another observe him? Would there be a new Personnel in their ranks? What would happen?

Turns out, you happened.

Personnel’s clothing is ever-changing. They have free reign over what they want to wear; needless to say, they have no uniform. They only have to wear a lab coat over their usual outfits, and that’s it. One could mistake them for Investigators, but the distinct code would be shown on their coat at the area over their heart. They have a white mask with reflective black glasses covering their eyeholes. 

Yet when you came in, you were void of that mask that hides one’s expression and face. Still, your poker face was impressive. You appeared expressionless and reminded him of a doll. You neither introduced yourself nor showcased your station, different from Personnel 001, who was practically shouting at him that they were the ones in power in this facility. At first glance, he knew you were different from all the rest. 

“You’re hiding your cards. SM-10.” Your words held knowledge and confidence, stating a fact rather than questioning him. Your arm hugged a black clipboard with a small stack of papers clipped while your other hand held a pen. If you weren’t wearing a lab coat, you’d appear like a strict teacher or lab researcher.

He couldn’t help but let a smile spread over his lips, “What makes you think that?”

“You’re holding back.” You turned to the Guards stationed within the cell to leave you alone. Yes, a Personnel has the authority to be alone with a Hunter, but if it were a Supervisor, they must be with at least two to three Guards. “You killed Personnel 001, why? Be honest.”

There was a shine in your eyes that he noticed. He couldn’t tell what it was, though he wanted to be coy. “You’re not the only ones observing. Why not make it mutual?”

That was his first meeting with you. 

With his Shadows, he watched you and your daily activities. You were practically glued to your work; you came to work early but left late. You have a good relationship with the other coworkers, and most respect you, evident by the nodding heads you receive in the hallways. You also seem to care for Hunters in their cells, inspecting the cell quality and making things more bearable for Hunters like him. 

Thanks to him, more and better changes happened after Personnel 001 was removed. By then, he figured out that whether it was a company setting or a guild setting, 001 was the guild master, and you were the vice master. Once 001 was gone, you had more authority and implemented changes, of course, with the agreement of your other Personnel co-workers. 

In that case, that makes you a lot more interesting. You realized his strength and power, you wanted an improved and more sophisticated place for Hunter, different from how the facility was supposed to be, and you have been treating everyone human. 

Jinwoo concluded that he wanted to stay and get closer to you. With you in charge, his family was practically safe as well. He’ll stay and protect your spot at the top. Yet why were you pushing him away? It infuriated him. Still, he was thankful for the other Personnels’ fear over setting an S-Rank loose in public that he could prove to you how wrong you were to fight for his release.

While showing his point, he reduced the Personnel to perhaps 6 remaining—that already includes you. From 12 to 6, he cut off 4, and then there was 001 as well, so one Personnel died through other means. Either way, he made his point.

You were the only Personnel he liked and could resolve his <Outrage>.

That already bound you to him, and none would harm you unless they wanted the country to fall to ruins. 

The two of you share secrets, and slowly, he got you to open up, showing only him a side of you that you hide behind an invisible mask. You’re the only one for him, he’ll make it so that he’s the only one for you. 

He realized that his emotions and feelings for you turned a bit twisted over time. That Guard 149 that stared at you a little too long? Their leg was somehow caught between the double doors, so they can’t work here anymore, right? That Investigator 083 that was standing so close to you that your arms were touching? An experiment backfired and their arms were amputated. Another Guard that is coded 761 was asking you out? They got into a car accident and died. 

Jinwoo was careful. You never pointed fingers at him nor suspected it was him at all. You were very naive and innocent; he loves that about you. You care for your workers, yet at the same time, you also don’t. He got his answer when he finally communicated with the other S-Rank Hunters during the end of the Jeju Raid.

“Personnel 002? Oh, I’d say that person cares about Hunters more.”

“Haha, Personnel 002 has been very accommodating, unlike the other ones.”

“You can’t compare Personnel 002 with the others, it’s not a fair comparison.”

“I always enjoy my time with Personnel 002.”

“You’re lucky SM-10, I wish I could have Personnel 002 come to my place often.”

The other S-Rank Hunters only had good things to say about you. As expected, you were biased against Hunters and silently helped them more. Though, he was more enraptured to hear you giving him special care and attention. In private, his smile grew wide as he chuckled to himself. “Ah… You’ll be the death of me… Personnel 002.”

Note: Ta da! Part 3's out and this is Jinwoo's side of the story, if it wasn't obvious to you!! A bit of boring history, but it's what it is~ Hope you guys liked this one!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@stupendouspizzacomputer @xiannars @skylar896 @forbidden-sunlight @waka-babe @soft-dots @iamapotatoe @hvnweeps @amayakurusu13

[dootznbootz]

You can horny post and thirst for Circe and Calypso without making fun of Odysseus, a victim of both, btw. 👍

[luvrdotcom]

Some quotes I loved from "Circe" by Madeline Miller

“I did not pretend to be a mortal. I showed my lambent, yellow eyes at every turn. None of it made a difference. I was alone and a woman, that was all that mattered.”

“I had once told Daedalus that I would never marry, because my hands were dirty, and I liked my work too much. But this was a man with his own dirty hands.”

“Odysseus, son of Laertes, the great traveler, prince of wiles and tricks and a thousand ways. He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.”

“A dozen times grief had scorched, but its fire had never burned through my skin. My madness in those days rose from a new certainty: that at last, I had met the thing the gods could use against me.”

“Our faces are both lined now, marked with our years. I listen to his breath, warm upon the night air, and somehow I am conforted. This is what it means to swim in the tide, to walk the earth and feel it touch your feet. This is what it means to be alive.”

[squeebh8]

i need to know who at supergiant games thought it was a good idea to not only split odysseus from his family, but also go with the version where he cheated on penelope. i need to know why and how that decision was approved.

[memoryyong]

I am so anti Madeline Miller it is insane

(Sorry if it looks blurry, idk how to fix that)