#each other Eury. each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cosmicourple · 3 months ago

Note

*drops this and runs* Time loop Ody becoming increasingly more demigod and stockpiling experience and power with each loop which catches the gods’ attention because what the heck. Athena looked away for a couple months and now her ex-champion- ex friend?? is a Demi god. The crew and Eurylochus become very worried, and the second in command can’t help but think, ‘Did the gods do this? Did that wind god do this? Was it the bag?’. Guilt racks him every loop he came to that conclusion. Every loop, they noticed how distant Odysseus is, like a dead man playing with toys just to see what happens. Some loops they grow scared of him and Odysseus pushed down the sparks of guilt in favour of mischievous amusement.

Things sort of are consistent depending on the actions Odysseus takes and some are consistent regardless of his actions. It’s gotten to the point where he can safely predict what’s going to happen next and could only experiment until the day he drop dead for real.

Yet during a loop, something changes. It’s subtle at first; haunted looks, headaches from others, things Odysseus sort of shrugged off but then it becomes a pattern spanning across time. Eurylochus sometimes collapses from horror, unable to look at Odysseus in the eyes. Athena rushes in, frantic and panicked like she saw her champion die. Odysseus would have questioned the changes but he’s too apathetic and more curious than anything to see changes he never created, in the end though it wouldn’t matter. Then Poseidon and Zeus happened and both of them have unreadable expressions on their faces.

Slips of the past flicker in, love, hatred manipulation all unveiling slowly, leaving only the gaps for them to peer in. Odysseus is connected to him, he has to be.

Why else would they sense the titan of time’s power in the fallen king?

OH MY GHUHGFBHUYYHBDWWFHHYHYG I LOVE THIS??????????????????????? YHRFRFEREEE😭😭😭

ohoho— Kronos is a very obvious but still great candidate to be involved w/ all this bullshit haha yessss, get Luke P.J.O-ed King of Ithaca >:]]]].

mmmmmm- u hammered in exactly how I view Odysseus’s current mind-state in this A.U hryyjiijnhg God(s), the crew becoming scared / seeing their cap’ all of a sudden (both in personality and in appearance—) alienate from them, Athena’s confusion & horror at her Champion’s whiplash of a gene! transformation, the Sky n Sea Bro’s (im assuming dis is wha ur talking about idk htgfdd-) previous Loop memories slowly dawning on them & the dull dread of Father the Titan of the Harvest being involved in it all, EURY’S HAVING GULIT ABOUT THE SITUATION BC OF LACK OF CONTEXT⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AUGGGGGG— there’s always so much angst n fucked up character moment potential w/ not only timloop! A.U’s. But w/ this fandom in general QTYIJHDDSNKKIJBGFFFF

ghuuuygf generally, ty SO MUCH 4 the contribution, It means a lot to see ppl wanna interact with my weird A.U! stuff 🥹☺️🫶

88 notes · View notes

pwuppyl0ve · 4 months ago

Text

hit w the feeling of. like. holy shit i feel. so isolated from people. everyone feels so distant and even the ones i’m closest to i’m like . fuck. i feel like i’m separated by a soundproof glass box lmao. and i don’t know how to . i forgot how to make friends. it feels so alien idk how to do it .

#eury yapping #i’m soggy tonight sorry #having A Real One #watching people around me have these. genuine and deep friendships where they trust each other and whatever and i just .#idk if i know what that’s like. even with the few people who are close to me i. am constantly wondering when they’re gna drop me #because they have to. right? no one ever sticks around forever. that’s not real. not for me.

2 notes · View notes

antinousletmehit · 19 days ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 24 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇Druses man handles a woman, and eury and cass are freaky

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The battle was over.

What remained of the camp was wreckage. Tents had been reduced to smoldering husks, supplies lay scattered, blood soaked the dirt. The few surviving Skiaphians had fled into the night, leaving only the dead behind—Greek and Skiaphian alike. The air was thick with the stench of blood and smoke. None of them spoke. There was nothing to say.

One by one, they buried the fallen. Each mound of dirt was another life lost, another comrade gone. Some warriors muttered quiet prayers, some whispered names, others said nothing at all.

Then they got to him.

Florus.

His body had been cleaned of blood, his wounds wrapped, but it did nothing to make him look less gone. He was laid out on a cloak, his face eerily peaceful, as if he were merely sleeping. Acrisios knelt beside him, his hands curled into fists on his thighs. He had stopped speaking hours ago. There was nothing left to say.

Cassander and Eurymachus stood a few feet away, staring at the ground. Their usual bickering was absent. They weren’t even looking at each other. Druses, who had barely flinched throughout the entire battle, stood rigid, his purple eyes dark and unreadable. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even blink.

Antinous stood off to the side, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He wasn’t looking at Florus, he was staring at the sky, expression blank. But the way his fingers gripped his own arms betrayed him.

Telemachus was the one to move first. He stepped forward, kneeling beside the body. He exhaled slowly, placing a hand on Florus’ chest—the closest thing to a farewell he could give.

Then, without a word, he picked up a handful of dirt— And let it fall.

One by one, the others followed.

No prayers. No speeches. Just silence. And when it was over, they stood around the fresh grave, looking at the disturbed earth, at the proof that Florus was gone. Acrisios exhaled shakily. He turned away first. The others followed, one by one, leaving the grave behind. Telemachus lingered for a moment longer, staring at the dirt, at the name they had carved into a simple wooden marker.

Then, finally, he turned and walked away. There was still a war to fight. The camp was silent, save for the crackling remains of burnt-out fires. The scent of blood still clung to the air, and the fresh graves loomed behind them like ghosts. Telemachus stood near what was left of their supply crates, staring at the dirt beneath his boots. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight.

“We’re in trouble,” he said finally, voice low. “Demeter is displeased that her favored mortal is gone.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Florus was our healer. Our farmer. Without him, our food will run out faster, and if anyone gets wounded, we have no one skilled enough to treat them properly.”

Pisistratus, who had been quiet for most of the mourning, snapped his head up. His eyes burned. “That’s all you have to say?” His voice was sharp, furious. “That’s what you care about? The food? The supplies?” He took a step forward, hands clenched into fists. “Florus was our brother, and all you can talk about is what he brought to us?”

Telemachus met his glare with a hard stare of his own. “I know he was our friend,” he said, voice steady. “But I have to think about all of us. We still have a war to fight. We can’t afford to fall apart—”

“Oh, fuck off,” Pisistratus spat. “You’re not upset that he died—you’re upset that you lost someone useful.”

Telemachus’ expression darkened. “Watch your tone, Pisistratus.”

“Or what?” Pisistratus shoved him. “You’ll add me to the dead too?”

That was it. Telemachus lunged, grabbing Pisistratus by the front of his tunic, and shoved him back. Pisistratus barely stumbled before retaliating, grabbing Telemachus by the arm and twisting—

The two crashed into the remains of a tent, knocking over what little supplies they had left. “Enough!” Antinous barked, storming forward. He ripped Telemachus away from Pisistratus and shoved him back.

Druses grabbed Pisistratus before he could lunge again, his grip like iron. “Are you stupid?” he hissed at him. “You think fighting him will bring Florus back?” Cassander and Eurymachus had already moved in, standing between them, tense and watchful.

Pisistratus was breathing heavily, eyes burning with rage, but he didn’t try to break free from Druses’ grip. Telemachus rolled his shoulders, exhaling sharply. He wanted to keep fighting. He wanted to hit something. But the crew was watching. The war wasn’t over. And Florus was still dead.

“Fine,” he muttered, shoving Antinous off him and stepping back. Pisistratus scowled but didn’t say anything else. The crew stood there in tense silence, waiting for someone to speak.

No one did.

Finally, without another word, Telemachus turned on his heel and walked away.

——

The rest of the night was quiet. Too quiet.

Druses had been on edge ever since the ambush. His instincts had been screaming at him that something was off, but now, as he stalked through what remained of the camp, he finally found the source of his unease.

The warprize.

She was creeping toward the outskirts, her steps careful, her breathing shallow. She was running. Druses moved before she could react. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back. She let out a sharp gasp as she stumbled into him, her back hitting his chest. His grip tightened, keeping her in place.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Druses murmured, his voice low and dangerous. The woman trembled against him but didn’t answer.

Druses exhaled through his nose, glancing around. “Trying to run?” He lowered his head to her ear. “Or were you ratting us out?” Her breath hitched.

“Oh, that would be very unfortunate,” Eurymachus’ voice chimed in from the side. Druses turned his head slightly to see Eurymachus and Cassander standing nearby, both watching with lazy amusement.

Eurymachus tilted his head. “She’s been here long enough to know how we deal with traitors.”

Cassander smirked. “Or, better yet… we could remind her why running isn’t worth it.” His eyes flicked over her. “She’s already here. Might as well put her to use.”

The woman stiffened. Druses, still gripping her hair, just sighed. “You two are fucking useless.”

Then—

SMACK. SMACK.

“OW—”

“FUCK—”

Acrisios smacked both Eurymachus and Cassander upside the head before grabbing them by the backs of their tunics and yanking them away. “Will you two shut the fuck up?” he snapped. “I swear to every god above, you’re insufferable.”

Eurymachus rubbed the back of his head, scowling. “Shit, Acrisios—”

Cassander groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Fucking hell, you hit hard—”

He ignored them and turned his attention to Druses. “You done playing with her, or do I have to babysit you too?” Druses rolled his eyes but released his grip on the woman, shoving her forward. She stumbled but didn’t fall. Her wide, fearful eyes darted between them all.

Acrisios crossed his arms. “Put her back where she belongs. And if either of you—” he threw a glare at Eurymachus and Cassander “—touch her before we decide what to do with her, I’ll gut you myself.” Cassander scoffed but didn’t argue. Eurymachus huffed. Druses just sighed and grabbed the woman’s arm, dragging her back toward the cages.

He turned away, muttering under his breath. These idiots were going to be the death of him.

——

The warprize sat stiffly in the corner of Druses’ tent, her arms wrapped around her knees, eyes darting toward the entrance as if she still had a chance of escaping. She didn’t. The moment Acrisios ordered her to be locked up, Druses had personally decided she wasn’t leaving his sight. If she was going to be a problem, she was his problem now.

The tent was dimly lit, the flickering oil lamp casting long shadows along the fabric walls. Outside, the sounds of the ruined camp settling for the night could be heard, low murmurs, the occasional clang of weapons, the distant crackle of fire. Druses, sitting on a stool sharpening his dagger, had been patient at first. Watching. Waiting. Letting the silence weigh down on her.

But his patience ran thin.

In one swift motion, he set his blade down and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her forward. She gasped as she was pulled onto her knees before him, forced to meet his piercing purple gaze.

“Talk,” he ordered. His grip was firm, unyielding. “Who the fuck were you running to? The Skiaphians? Some other survivors?”

She trembled but clenched her jaw, refusing to speak. Druses’ lips curled into something between amusement and irritation. “Nothing? You expect me to believe you just wandered off in the middle of the night?” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “I don’t like liars.”

She flinched but remained silent. Druses exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around her arm. He wasn’t in the mood for this. The battle, the ambush, the loss, his patience was gone.

“Tell me the truth,” he muttered, voice dangerously low, “or I start assuming things.” His free hand came up, gripping her chin and tilting her face toward his. “And trust me, you don’t want me making my own conclusions.”

Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts.

Still, she said nothing.

Druses tilted his head, watching her carefully. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he released her chin, only to grip her throat instead, not squeezing, just enough to make sure she felt the weight of his hand.

“Last chance,” he murmured. “Talk.”

The woman’s breath was shaky, but she lifted her chin, her defiance flickering despite the grip Druses had on her throat. Her lips parted, and for the first time since she was caught, she spoke. “I—” She hesitated, her voice hoarse. Then, with a sharp breath, she steadied herself. “I let myself get captured.”

Druses’ eyes narrowed. His fingers tightened slightly. “What?”

She swallowed, wincing at the pressure on her throat, but forced herself to continue. “I knew you’d take war prizes. I knew I’d be taken.” Her voice wavered, but she pushed through. “They—my people, needed to know where you made camp. So I let you take me.” Druses’ grip stiffened. His whole body tensed with something dark, something livid.

“You fucking mole,” he muttered.bThe ambush. The Skiaphians finding their location so fast. The deaths. Florus. His jaw clenched, rage boiling under his skin. He ripped his hand away from her throat, only to grab her wrist instead and yank her up onto her feet.

She stumbled, trying to resist, but Druses was stronger, his grip iron. “You wanted us to find out?” he growled, dragging her toward the entrance of his tent. “Fine. Let’s make sure you regret it.” He hauled her across the camp, ignoring the few tired gazes from soldiers still awake. His anger burned too hot for anyone to question him.

When he reached Cassander and Eurymachus’ tent, he didn’t bother announcing himself. He threw the flap open, stepped inside, and shoved the woman forward. Cassander and Eurymachus, lounging near their bedrolls, blinked up in surprise.

“The fuck—?” Cassander started.

Druses cut him off, his voice sharp, dripping with venom. “She’s a mole.”

Eurymachus sat up straighter. “What?”

“She let herself get caught on purpose,” Druses spat. “She ratted us out. The ambush? Florus? All of it.” Cassander’s gaze flickered to the woman, his hazel eyes darkening with realization. Druses exhaled sharply, shaking his head before stepping back toward the exit.

“Do what you want with her.” His voice was cold. Detached. “She’s yours.”And with that, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the warprize alone with them. The woman barely had time to regain her footing before Cassander and Eurymachus rose to their feet, their expressions dark with realization.

Eurymachus ran a hand through his blonde hair, green eyes gleaming with something sharp. “A mole,” he echoed, rolling the words over his tongue like he was savoring the sound of it.

Cassander exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. “So that’s why they found us so quickly.” His hazel eyes dragged over her, filled with something calculating.

The woman tensed, her breath coming in short bursts, but she clenched her fists. “You deserved it,” she hissed.

Eurymachus laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “Oh, she talks now.”

Cassander clicked his tongue, stepping closer. “What, no more meek little captive act? Where’d that go?” He tilted his head mockingly. “Or did you drop it the moment you thought you’d won?”

She didn’t respond. Eurymachus sighed dramatically, stretching his arms. “Druses said we could do whatever we want with her.” He smirked. “That’s interesting.”

Cassander grinned, but before he could open his mouth—

SMACK.

A hand slammed against the back of his head. Cassander cursed, stumbling forward, just as Eurymachus yelped from a second smack landing squarely against his skull.

“What the fuck—?!”

Acrisios stood in the entrance, arms crossed, eyes blazing with irritation. “Are you two seriously about to start this shit again?” he snapped.

Cassander rubbed the back of his head, scowling. “Acrisios, come on—”

“I swear,” Acrisios cut him off, “you two act like starving dogs the moment someone throws a scrap your way.” He shot a glare at Eurymachus. “We just buried Florus, and this is your priority?”

Eurymachus scoffed, throwing up his hands. “She’s the reason we had to bury Florus!”

Acrisios sighed, Then, with a sharp exhale, he stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and yanked her toward him. “She’s not yours,” he said simply, ignoring her startled gasp.

Cassander scowled. “Oh, so you get to have her now?”

He shot him a sharp look. “I’m taking her to Telemachus. He’ll decide what’s done with her.”That shut them up. Eurymachus shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. Cassander exhaled through his nose but didn’t argue.

He turned back toward the tent entrance, pulling the woman along with him. She didn’t resist this time—whether from fear or some lingering spark of pride, he couldn’t tell. Either way, she was about to face a far worse fate than anything they could’ve done.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4|frOgg3r @permanently-nothere

@eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan @xo-cuteplosion-xo

@galaxygurIll @pjopinkk @h0ne4bee

@minteaspoon @zendoesstuff @yuvany @i-liketoast

#aphrodites gamble #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #telemachus x reader

57 notes · View notes

toxinoire · 2 months ago

Text

While Polites isn't my fave, he seems very strong willed but very traumatized and Open Arms shows it.

It's the fact that he's a soldier, he's killed people, he's seen the filth of the world.

He chooses to greet the rest of the world's beauty with kindness and open arms, but for a more twisted traumatized reason.

Listening to the song, you hear these specific lines: "I see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart" and "So why not replace it and light up the world? Here's how to start: greet the world with open arms"

It feels enthusiastic, until you recall that Polites is also a soldier.

Come on, "I know that you're tired of the war and bloodshed" so is he. "You can show a person that you trust them when you stop and lower your guard" He wants to trust more people, but ones he knows he can trust. For example: Ody, Eury, the crew. He wants them to have open vulnerability, because they're all traumatized and should, quite frankly, be open with each other.

He should have the same guilt as Odysseus. He has just as much blood on his hands as Odysseus. He does. But he lets go of the guilt, why? Those are the filth of the world, they're not the ones you can embrace with open arms, they're not the amazing parts of life.

Polites is ruthless in his own way. He greets the beautiful things in life with kindness and open arms, yes. But I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to rid of the filth in it. The Lotus Eaters for example: they welcomed them on the island. They hadn't tried to attack, hadn't been on guard. No, they were all "Welcome :D" which is why Polites believed them to be nice, and he was willing to believe that because he literally just got back from killing multiple Trojans.

In the Cyclops Saga, Polites doesn't even protest killing Polyphemus. If he's truly as kind as he appears, he probably would have protested. He'd probably tell Ody that they killed his friend first, try to negotiate more. Maybe he'd be the one to negotiate. But he doesn't, he was also one of those soldiers fighting Polyphemus, but he had died.

But one might say "Oh but in the Underworld his last thoughts-" Yeah true, but when you're on the brink of death, after seeing so much filth in the world, you'll want to see something nice in it.

He wanted to still see the beauty of the world even as he was smashed by a club. Wanted Odysseus to let go of the guilt as Ody is very much a dear friend of his and doesn't want him to suffer, so he tries to convince him to at least see the beauty of the world.

He wasn't intending for Odysseus to try to be merciful or spare his enemies, he just wanted him to see the remaining beauty in an otherwise filthy world.

Polites is actually more layered if you take note that he's a soldier. He wasn't naive and too trusting, he just wanted to see good in an otherwise bad world. That was a trauma response.

#epic the musical #epic the musical polites #polites #epic troy saga #epic cyclops saga #epic underworld saga #epic wisdom saga #epic vengeance saga #epic ithaca saga

56 notes · View notes

jarondont · 6 months ago

Text

Gone

Um ... an angsty Eurylochus x Ctimene oneshot, bc why not

For the best experience, listen to sad Titanic instrumentals in the background

Also, here's a little piano thing I thought of for Ctimene, with Ody's guitar motif and Eury's Luck Runs Out motif

Under a small cliff in a hidden cove just beside the harbor stood a majestic olive tree, similar to the one in the palace courtyard—its roots buried sturdily in the ground; its branches wedged into the rock behind it. Its leaves rustled in the wind, blending with the gentle crash of waves along the shoreline. Sunrise stretched its rosy fingers over the horizon and spread its light over the wine-dark sea, bathing the world in a golden hue.

Two figures sat at the base of the tree, their fingers laced together like the branches above their heads. One, a man, was tall, broad, and sturdily built. The other was just the opposite—a woman, short and lean. Neither of them spoke—they simply sat in each other’s company, savoring every moment, wishing they could stay like this forever.

They couldn’t; they knew that. As they sat, the dozen ships at the harbor were being loaded with food and weapons and supplies, almost ready to set sail for the shores of Ilium. The crew was slowly trickling onto the decks, although no one was present to give them orders. The captain likely was saying goodbye to his own wife. But as soon as he returned, they’d leave. And they’d need their second-in-command.

For now, though, Ctimene just wanted to hold on to her husband for as long as she could.

“Ctimene,” the man mumbled.

“Hm?” came the reply.

“I must go.”

Ctimene hummed again, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. “Not yet.”

A beat passed. “Kit, I really must—”

“Please, Eurylochus, just a little longer.” Her voice cracked slightly from the tears that she held back, forming a lump in her throat.

Eurylochus sighed. Ctimene glanced down at their intertwined fingers as he traced his thumb in circles over the back of her hand. It tickled a little—to anyone else, the caress would seem surprisingly gentle for hands as strong as Eurylochus’s … but Ctimene could feel the tension in his touch. She looked up to meet his eyes, but his gaze was lowered to his lap, dejected.

“How long will it take, do you think?” she asked quietly, part of her not wanting to know the answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Could be … could be anywhere from a year to …” He faltered. “I don’t know.”

Something stung in the corners of Ctimene’s eyes, then made its way down her throat and into her heart until it felt like it was burning. She glanced away, her grip on Eurylochus’s hand tightening slightly, desperately.

“Where will you stay in the meanwhile?” he asked, trying to change the topic. “Will you stay here, or go back to Same?”

She shrugged. “I’ll go back, I guess.” But it won’t be the same without you. She swallowed, blinking away her tears.

A pause, then Eurylochus started, “Kit—”

The bell rang out from the harbor, echoing along the cliffs—one bell, two, three.

Eurylochus’s fingers quickly untangled themselves from Ctimene’s. “The captain’s ready,” he muttered, then began to rise from his seat.

But Ctimene grabbed his wrist, her tears finally spilling. “Don’t. They can wait a few more minutes, can they not?” “No, Kit, I need to go—”

“Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t leave me.”

Sorrow washed over Eurylochus’s face. He knelt down beside her and ran his calloused fingers over her cheek, rubbing away her tears with his thumb. The action only made her cry harder.

“Kit, look at me.” She already was—taking in the slight furrow of his eyebrows; the way the sun reflected off his otherwise deep brown eyes, making them shine like pools of gold; the small dip on his right cheek that she’d often kiss, the dimple deepening as his smile widened. She took in everything, wishing she could somehow imprint this moment into her mind forever.

He held her hands in his and helped her up, his teary gaze trained intently on hers. He began, “Whatever happens in this war—”

“No.” She knew what he was about to say. “No, Eurylochus, no—”

“Whatever happens,” he continued, shaking his head, “promise me one thing.” He took a steadying breath. “Promise me you’ll stay strong. Promise me you won’t lose yourself in longing. Promise me you’ll always hold on to whatever hope is left, Ctimene, because I will, too.”

She was silent.

“Promise me, Kit.”

She exhaled a sob. “I promise.”

A rueful smile danced across his face as he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Wait for me,” he whispered.

“I promise,” she repeated, not breaking his gaze as he slipped his fingers out of hers and began slowly back-stepping to the harbor.

She watched as he turned to keep walking, his sandals kicking up small clouds of sand.

“Eurylochus, wait.”

He stopped in his tracks, spinning around as Ctimene threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She closed her eyes, teardrops escaping their corners and flooding down her cheeks. Eurylochus returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist like an anchor, never wanting to let go. In that moment, it was just the two of them—no war, no ships, no leaving people behind. Just them.

But even the strongest anchors must be drawn eventually.

Ctimene pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. “You will come back, Eurylochus,” she insisted. “You will come back, and then we will have our forever.”

“I—” His golden-hued eyes glinted with tears. “I promise.”

With that, he left.

Ctimene didn’t leave the cove until the bell clanged again and the dozen ships pulled out of the harbor. The men—soldiers—raised their arms as final goodbyes, standing at the rail and waving to the crowd of people at the shore. Be safe, Ctimene wished them, and come back home. We will all be waiting.

Then she caught sight of two figures on the leading vessel—one with a billowing purple cape, still facing toward the crowd of people, waving to someone. And the other—Ctimene bit her lip to keep from crying. He was waving to her, she realized. She waved back, her eyes stinging as she shed a tear. The man nudged the shorter one with the cape next to him, drawing his eyes to where she stood on the beach. She waved to them both, watching their figures shrink smaller and smaller as the ships sailed away.

“I will wait, agapitos,” she whispered. “I promise.”

––––––

One year passed. Then two. Three.

Any word from Ithaca? She’d ask. Are they back yet?

No, they’d reply, not yet.

Another year. Another. And another.

Have they returned?

No. No one has.

Again, the seasons cycled through, marking another year. And another. And one more.

Where are they? Surely the war’s over by now.

It isn’t. Not yet.

How much longer would this war last? How much longer must those soldiers suffer? How much longer must friends, lovers, families stay apart, desperate to see each other again?

How much longer until Eurylochus came home?

All these questions Ctimene pondered as crashing waves of dread slowly eroded away her patience.

But no one ever knew the answer.

The tenth year—the war was over. Achaea had won.

They’re not back yet.

Another year. Two, three, four, five.

Every morning, she’d sit by the shore, her fingers tracing small patterns in the soft sand as she stared out across the wine-dark sea. Maybe it will be today, she hoped. Maybe I will see a black ship on the horizon, finally home from Troy.

She’d occasionally see something, a small fleck somewhere on distant waves. She’d spring up from her seat and squint against the sun, trying to see it better. Sometimes, it would be a ship, and her heart would flutter like a freed dove as she almost dared to hope it was him.

Almost.

Usually, the ship would sail on, not even making a turn for Same. And if it did dock at the shores, it was never his. No, it was always a trading ship, a fishing ship, or some other unknown vessel that would slam its anchor straight onto Ctimene’s heart.

But she still waited. She had made a promise, after all.

The next five years went by all the same. She’d watch, she’d wait, and she’d hope, but that was all she could do.

So, when she finally received some news, her heart was ready to burst out of her chest.

It started as a whisper, winding its way through the ears of people until it eventually reached Ctimene’s.

Odysseus has returned.

They made it … after all this time, they finally made it home!

Immediately, she ordered a ship made ready for her. She was going to Ithaca.

The journey only took a few hours, but it felt like an eternity. The whole time, her mind was consumed by a mixture of excitement, joy, and … fear. Though she tried to suppress it, part of her couldn’t help but wonder—what would Eurylochus be like after all this time? Would she still be able to love him? Would he still love her? Twenty years away from home … had he—had he kept his loyalty? Or had he severed his ties with Ctimene and taken another lover?

His face flashed through her mind’s eye. No. No, he would never—he had promised he’d make it back, and they’d have their forever.

He’d promised.

As soon as her ship docked in the Ithacan harbor, she hurried toward the palace, weaving her way through the streets as quickly as she could. Her heart and mind raced as she imagined everything she’d wanted to say to him for all these years. So many things.

Eurycleia was the first to greet her at the palace. “Ctimene—” she began, then paused. Her cheery grin fell suddenly. “Oh, child …”

“Where is Odysseus?” Ctimene asked, too impatient to notice the nurse’s change in mood.

“In the hall,” Eurycleia replied. “But, Ctimene—”

But she had already taken off.

She found her brother at the foot of his throne, fiddling with his bow. As soon as he looked up, they both froze.

Scars lined his face in places they hadn’t before—the bridge of his nose, his right cheek, his left eyebrow. His eyes had dark circles underneath, as if he hadn’t gotten proper sleep in days. And his shoulders were tense, as if expecting an attack at any moment.

Other than that, he looked like the same Odysseus she remembered.

“Ody,” she breathed, and threw her arms around him, collapsing in tears.

“Kit.” He dropped his bow and returned the embrace, his tears wetting her clothes. “I missed you,” he sobbed, holding her tight.

He was home. He was safe. And he was alive. Ctimene was overjoyed.

But still, something—someone—was missing.

“Brother,” she began, pulling away, “where is Eurylochus?”

Odysseus froze.

“Brother?”

His eyes grew wide and darted in every direction before finally focusing on the ground. He mumbled something under his breath, but Ctimene couldn’t hear it. “What is it, Ody?”

He took a few panicked breaths. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Her eyebrows pressed together. Why was he sorry?

“Odysseus—”

It hit her like a spear, piercing her heart, deeper and deeper, until the only thing she felt was blinding pain. Her breathing hitched as dread engulfed her, swallowing her whole. That … that couldn’t have happened—it couldn’t—

“Odysseus …” She struggled to keep her voice level. “Where is Eurylochus?”

No response.

Her tears were no longer of joy—they streaked her face like rivers of sorrow and horror, burning against her skin. But Odysseus was still silent.

“Where is he?” she demanded, shooting up from her seat. “Where is he?”

Odysseus wouldn’t look at her. “I was going to send you a messenger … Kit, the rest of the crew—” his voice cracked. “I had to. I’m so sorry.”

He “had to”?

“‘Had to’ what, Odysseus?” She could barely even breathe now. “What did you do?!”

But he just squeezed his eyes shut, not speaking anything more.

“SAY SOMETHING!”

“I can’t,” he gasped. “I’m sorry.”

No. No. He was lying—he had to be lying—

Finally, he looked up. “I’m sorry, Kit—”

“Don’t call me that.” She backed away, almost stumbling. “Don’t—don’t—”

She stared him right in the eyes. “You’re a murderer.”

“Ctimene, please—”

She turned around and ran.

She burst out of the palace, tearing through the streets and down to the harbor, desperately yet hopelessly searching for her husband. Maybe he was waiting here. Maybe he was boarding a ship for Same. Maybe he’d surprise her, spin her around and kiss her cheek, chuckling and telling her it was just a trick.

But he never did.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, but more kept falling. “Eurylochus?!” she called out to the sea. “Agapitos?!”

She was only met with the crash of waves and the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

Her chest heaving, she stumbled along the shoreline, yelling out his name until her voice was hoarse. Every passing second added to the searing pain in her heart, scorching her from the inside. She screamed, she cried, and she ran, until she found herself in an area she recognized in a memory from twenty years ago.

A hidden cove, surrounded by tall cliffs, with an olive tree—now half-dead—pressed against the rock.

Promise me you’ll always hold on to whatever hope is left, Ctimene, because I will, too.

Images flashed through her mind—a sunrise, intertwined fingers, and two shimmering pools of gold. She reached out to the visions, desperate to grab them and hold on before—

Gone. It was all gone.

He was gone. Truly gone.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the sand, letting out a strangled cry that sounded almost inhuman. “Eurylochus,” she screamed, “Eurylochus!” His name echoed along the cliffs, surrounding her, as if it was the only word the world knew how to speak. “You promised, Eurylochus, you promised! You promised you’d come back—why didn't you come back—” Her voice failed her, and she clawed her nails into the sand, wishing she could dig her way to the Underworld and bring him back.

“Come back,” she croaked, barely louder than a whisper. “Come back.”

She vaguely felt an arm wrap around her and heard a thump as someone kneeled in the sand next to her. She leaned her head on the man’s shoulder, too tired and miserable to pull away.

“I’m sorry, Kit,” he whispered, and she felt his tears fall on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

But no amount of apologies could ever repair the gaping hole in her heart where he used to be. Nothing could.

“He’s gone, Ody,” she cried, burying her face in his clothes.

“I know,” he choked. “I’m sorry.”

And there they sat, together yet completely alone—a captain who had sacrificed everything for love, and a princess who had lost everything she loved.

#epic the musical #epic: the musical #the odyssey #odysseus #eurylochus #ctimene #eurykit

112 notes · View notes

kidnoodles · 12 days ago

Note

I love the volleyball au so much but I also love Odysseus and Ctimene as twins. Are they twins in the volleyball au as well or just siblings?

And just have to say I adore your art style, it's so pretty!

omg thank u so much!! im so glad u enjoy it hehe

ngl i think they would just be siblings in the volleyball au but only because i did not think that far ahead 😭

the twins idea came about bc for my personal headcanon: ody and mene look so much like each other, they just use this power to prank everyone around them + i am OBSESSED with the thought of eury constantly mixing them up so i just thought instead of just siblings… we Make them Twins…

(also the Angst Potential is soooo much more bc the connection between twins is much stronger than just siblings)

#imagine being separated from ur twin for 20 years bro #eury constantly mixing them up is rly funny bc polites does not have this problem at all #also thank u for the comment about my art style!! :]#and sorry for rambling saur much #odysseus #ctimene #epic the musical #ask flynn?

50 notes · View notes

insomniaruler · 5 months ago

Text

I’m thinking A G A I N

(Someone needs to put me down like a lame horse)

Once Eurylochus got to the gates of the underworld and the all consuming gnawing in the pit of his stomach had subsided he sat down on the barren rock the final 40 members of the crew wailing around him, cursing Odysseus, cursing him, cursing the god of storms himself. They had not been buried, each dying in the roaring blast of heat and pain before darkness. No passage would be granted.

But Eurylochus was silent. All he could see was Odysseus, his friend, captain and brother. All he could hear was Odysseus pleading with the gods themselves, they could not need make him choose between himself or his crew. Eurylochus cradled his trembling hands, thinking back to the last conscious moments before hunger had taken his mind and soul.

Ody was right if Eurylochus had been given the chance to see home again, to see the shores of Ithaca, to taste fresh fruit, to hold his dearest Citmene just once more. Eurylochus would have taken it, anything.

The worst part is that he knew in his heart of hearts where only The goddess of love could see he had been the one to ruin their chance of going home only a year after the war when he was enraptured by the little bag Odysseus so guarded.

It was him who lead them too disaster after disaster. What would Odysseus his own sister about Eury’s death? Would he tell her the truth or refuse to answer, maybe tell her he died like a dog? Realistically Eurylochus knew Odysseus would not lie to his sister, he couldn’t. Citmene would see through it, she too was blessed by The goddess of wisdom and a descendant of the God of Trickery. His eyes grew heavy as the ferryman approached for the souls who’d been properly buried.

Looking down he sighed, translucent. Not whole, he’d never be because he was stuck on the other side. Perhaps this would be best, Eury hoped to avoid Polities for as long as possible, the man who’d once been one of his closest friends would not forgive him any time soon. Thus he let his eyes close, maybe he’d be absorbed into his misery.

He slept for a long time tucked against a wall of the seemingly endless chamber, cradled by the cold hard stone he felt he deserved. Eurylochus woke to whispers surrounding him, “you Eurylochus of Ithaca?” “You’re holding up the boat!” “Come on get up” “who paid your fare!?”.

Blinking Eurylochus shook off the deep sleep and started in the direction the fading hands had pointed him too. There on a rickety old dock sat an even older and rickety trireme which was packed to the walls with souls, some he recognized some he had forgotten.

As soon as he stepped into the boat it set off across the acrid Styx river. Approaching a face he recognized nudged him. “Who paid for us?” Eurylochus whispered. “The Captain did. He’s going home.” Then the soul spat “Don’ matter to me, when he gets down here I’ll show him exactly what lightning does to you.” The soul spat.

Once they reached the other side Eurylochus shuffled through the wailing masses towards what he hoped was rest, he really hoped he hadn’t pissed of the sun god enough to land himself in the pits of Tartarus.

Shuffling through lines of souls Eurylochus muttered a whispered prayer. It was all a blur but somehow Eurylochus avoided the pits and now he was walking through a marble, gold and gemstone lined cavern. Was this..? Elysisum? Someone was going to come to him and banish him to the nothingness.

As he walked he his mind flickered with images of the living world. Carefully he wandered, feeling out of place in this hall of heroes. suddenly the world flipped around and standing above him was a furious Polities, somehow he’d ended up on the floor staring up at the glimmering ceiling.

Then Eurylochus was pinned, a firm fist planted right into his eye. “How DARE you! How dare you.” Polities shouted yanking Eurylochus up by his shirt front. “Polities I-“ Eurylochus whispered as he was getting dragged to a small brazier holding a small fire. For a second he was worried Polities was about to throw him in it. But then he was in a heap on the ground in front of the flame.

In it he saw Odysseus, handing two large bags of coins to a ghostly figure. “He’s paying your passage, to Hermes. All of you. You- you traitors.” Polities whispered, fuming. “I’m sorry-“ Eury whispered. “I don’t need apologies, I knew you as a brother in arms, I’ve fought with you since childhood. Just like Odysseus. You’re a traitor to our oath.” Polities said, his glasses were whole again, Eurylochus had stowed Polities’ shattered wire frames in his breast sachet.

“Is- is Citmene okay?” This had been the one thought plaguing him since he crossed the Styx. “She’s fine, she won’t be when she finds out her husband was killed by The king of the gods himself.” Polities spat, he let Eurylochus up and eventually they found themselves watching as Odysseus smiled for the first time in years as he saw his home on the horizon.

“He’s doing it. He’s made it home.” Polities whispered in awe. “But what of the palace something is wrong.” Eurylochus muttered slipping into his old roll with ease. “Shh Let me bask for a little bit Eury.” Polities shushed him.

Thus they watched their Brother go home. Too where they could never return. Eurylochus saw Citmene sitting near a pillar looking out at the sea, she kissed her ring. Polities had to stop him from leaning so far he’d fall into the fire. “Oh Argos.” Polities muttered as the faithful companion went still. Eurylochus cried when Citimene sobbed openly over his armour, saved from wreckage after wreckage by Odysseus.

#epic the musical #eurylochus #Citmene #odysseus #polities

84 notes · View notes

thequeenofthedisneyverse · 3 months ago

Text

Eury lives au + Eury x Poseidon

Inspired by @anerdyrat Circe! (Not really Circe is still there) Eurylochus au and @caramellcandy villain au!

TW: Mentions of amnesia and isolation

Say, Eurylochus actually survived the lightning blast and Poseidon just takes him in. Mostly to manipulate him into being on his side and go against Odysseus. Turns out, it wasn't all that hard. For the first three days, Eury was in and out of consciousness due to the lightning blast colliding with his head and body three days before.

Poseidon had his maids tend to the new lightning scars and just care for him until he woke up.

When he fully gained consciousness, he was confused as to where he was. At first, he thought he was dead, but he remembered the underworld didn't have ocean themes or dark blue marble floors and walls...gasp! It was fairly hard for Eury to move due to his body still being in aching pain. The farthest he got was outside of his new room where he was met face to face with Poseidon himself.

Eury felt as if he should be scared but...he was unsure why. His memories were a jumbled mess. Poseidon figured this when Eurylochus showed no anger towards him or that much fear. Just uncertain curiosity.

But just to be sure, he asked Eury the last thing he remembered (while seeming like a concerned god). Attempting to remember anything put strain on Eury's head...then he rembered.

Storm, lightning, a man with long brown hair and a beard...pointing at him. Then a sharp stinging ball of light hit...then nothing else. What was that man's name?

Oddy? Esseuss? Odysseus? Oh, gods that name gives him a migraine and makes him anxious. And does he feel...sorrow...when he thinks about it? This person?

So, from Poseidon's perspective...he's someone he can use (or a way to pass the time lol). Bend his memories to make him think EVERYTHING was Ody's fault (it kind of was) and make him seem more like a monster than he is.

They get to know each other for the next seven years, some of Eury's memories come back but not happy one's. Never happy one's. The only good memory or feeling he got was when a certain name came up in his hand when he saw a red curtain.

Polites.

But even that brought a horrible memory of the cyclops and his friend...well...dying. Well, the memory is still choppy, but he can put two and two together.

Of course, when Eury has traumatic memories coming back, Poseidon is there to comfort him. At first, his comfort held no real emotion or care behind it...until he genuinely started to fall for the mortal. Which he hates by the way. How the fuck did that happen?!

For the first three years he tried not to acknowledge it, to keep his distance from the mortal. But those pretty "siren" eyes, genuine curiosity, genuine kindness, personality and care from Eurylochus somehow chipped away at his ruthless and cold heart over time.

The next four years he couldn't help but get closer and be more tender and caring towards Eury. And vice versa for Eurylochus.

Poseidon stops bringing up Odysseus seeing as it only hurts Eury (and he doesn't like talking about him either). He stops bringing up anything that has to do with Eury's passed in general and focus on the present.

Eurylochus isn't at all aware of Poseidon wanting to kill Ody until after he comes back bandaged up. And only weeks after that was, he really told what happened.

Then asked to do the unthinkable

I would like to point out that that their relationship isn't healthy. Eury is entirely dependent on Poseidon because he needs him for everything. Food, shelter, sometimes physical movement and "human" interaction and touch.

Poseidon is aware of this and keeps him inside by telling him how horrible the world is. Why? Well, for one, he's lonely and...that's about it. He grew an attachment to Eury and therefore doesn't want to let him go.

Now, Poseidon isn't like his brother, Zeus. He's not going to force himself onto Eurylochus in any shape or form (the man is already in physical pain most of the time, why in Olympus's name would he do that?). But still, he's keeping Eurylochus isolated.

Eurylochus doesn't really believe Poseidon too much but...he's a god. He may have amnesia but he's aware that he can't go against the will of a god. So, if Poseidon wants him there...he'll stay.

The poor mortal doesn't have that much fight left in him anyway (not physically at least). Plus, Poseidon is nice to him and treats him well.

So, the au is still in development buuut if you have any questions, please send asks (I'm bored)

#eurylochus #eurylochus x poseidon #poseidon x eurylochus #epic the musical #don't worry the areury fankids are coming #but designing takes time #don't rush me #epic eurylochus #epic poseidon #poseidon epic #eurylochus epic #odysseus #polites #eurylochus lives au #odysseus epic #polites epic

46 notes · View notes

kindred-spirit-93 · 4 months ago

Text

600 strike storyboard concept idea thingy

research suggest listening to epic while trying to study is a very bad idea. but that wont stop me because i cant read muehehe.

creative liberties taken so keep that in mind. forgive the awful art lol

aight so starting off with get in the water, poseidons trident to me can control the movement of the water. now poseidon being the personification of the sea itself uses it to streamline his movement but also bc it looks badass. anyway

the trident summons a whirlpool thingy (imagine cool visuals pls)

the currents are unforgiving and the tides are furious, ody is being slapped around, salt in his eyes (ouch). "maybe you could learn to forgive"... a moment of calm (silence before the storm ayy). "nah son"

"die" poseidon spears ody into the water, parting the ocean with the sheer force of the throw, ody is unharmed by the trident lol dont ask me how or why. anyway the pressure difference is quite literally making his head implode he passes out for a lil while

boom trauma trio. more cool visual imagining pls

polites and eury each have a hand on his shoulder, anticlea meanwhile cradles her sons head gently, singing softly into his ear. his men join in calling out to their captain. entire lifetimes of camraderie and love arent ended by death.

heres the kicker; poli and eury look at each other and back to their men, preparing one final attack to aid their captain. thie idea here is sort of reminicent to survive back when they faced polyphemus.

the trio open the wind bag together and the crew takes it from here. anticlea guides ody to the surface while his men form a tsunami that rises and rises, towering over poseidon

all throughout their chorus its just tidal wave after tidal wave. now ofc the water itself isnt dealing damage, theyre just buying their beloved captain time so he can catch his breath and regain his wits. (anticlea pats him on the back while he coughs out the saltwater in his lungs. yk for futher emotional damage) their waves bring them all closer to the shore while keeping good distance between the raft and the god

ody sees the trident and something sinister washes over him, this could either go horribly wrong or horribly wrong. but danger is his friend after all and it was nerf or nothing. ithacas famous coast is in sight and he has an idea. time to make use of those jagged rocks

aight now the ghosts... ghost (sorry i had to) and poseidon whos a little out of breath calls ody out on his stupidity which is funny bc he didnt open the bag AGAIN but this time around its in his favour anyway.

he points his own trident at him (again theres a lot of distance between them and ody here has the upper hand). poseidon realises this and yells wait (pathetic. i love him) a n y w a y

with each strike the waves rise and crash into poseidon and hes like metaphonically impaled on the spiky rocks and idk how godly pain receptors work but im giving him all the agony and hes going to feel it all. this is where he cries out very melodically lmao

"next to my wife". the man the myth the mango master

ur spinach puffs nasty af. it was funny in the moment okay

#the raft has more plot armour than ody lmao #if the worst comes to the worst he could always give poseidon a splinter. that ought to teach him #epic the musical #the vengeance saga #600 strike #storyboard #concept art #but like just barely #decided to spare yall the horror of this in colours lol #my art

58 notes · View notes