(Specifically the Arc where the whole world is convinced the ADA is a criminal organisation - season 4)
Summary: The Agency is on the run after being accused for the hostage situation. Everyone is distraught, but you, moreso than others, seeing as you aren't just running away from the Hunting Dogs, but grappling with the fact that your boyfriend is one of them too....
Trigger Warnings: slight Angst, blood, stabbing, crime, dark themes, mentions of sadism (it's Jouno),
A/n: I hope you enjoy it:)
â â ââ â ââ â ââ â
For the briefest of moments, right when he got the news, his collected and calm facade crumbled
He regained his composure quickly, but the storm of emotions raged on inside him
He was livid
He was out for blood (still undecided if yours or someone else's)
He was mad
He was concerned (deep deep down... Burried under anger and hurt and sadism...)
Above all else, he felt betrayed
He trusted you and now he had to hunt you down. Man is not impressed.
The feeling of betrayal and hurt grows with each passing second.
There is a dissonance between what he expected, wanted to believe about you. And the current reality
The sadistic part of him is thrilled, though
Oh how he craves to hunt you down and take out all the pain you inflicted upon him through your actions...
The sadist in him would immensely enjoy the chase. He can't help it. In that light, the thought of hunting you down is very much appealing
At the same time, he feels the need to protect you. His reason for being in the Hunting dogs is to protect people,
And ever since you started dating, protecting you has been high on his priority list
This just fuels his conflicting emotions though
In his present state, he would not tolerate any whatsoever inquiries into the situation in regards to his relationship with you and how it affects the operation.
If you are brought up, he would be cold and harsh and deliver some crude, off-handed remark, with his unnerving smile
This would be enough to unsettle and shut down anyone who dared to bring up the subject
However, the issue couldn't be avoided indefinitely:
"Isn't your girl one of them?" Tecchou asked nonchalantly, stirring the storm of feelings within Jouno anew.
"Yes... She is" Jouno dragged out. His expression shifted to contemplation, "Do not touch her. I'll deal with her personaly"
The conversation didn't slip the notice of Fukuchi:
"Jouno! Make sure the girl doesn't... Hinder you."
Jouno replied with a calm smile and a slight nod, "Of course not, Captain. She will be dealt with accordingly"
"No personal feelings in the matter" Fukuchi restated, just to cement the idea
"Naturally. I am insulted you'd even consider me to be so easily swayed by such a trivial matter"
Despite what he claims and chooses to believe, the situation has a huge effect on him.
He will delude himself in thinking that he can remain impartial
Before the chase even starts, he'd find a way to contact you and tell you to just... Stay put. That he will handle it:
Your phone rang, gaining you a glare from Kunikida:
"Right now? Really?" He mouthed exasperated
"I have to take it... This could save us" you replied. Maybe... Maybe if you managed to convince your boyfriend of your innocence he would tell the other Hunting Dogs to stop and prove your lack of involvement with the crime. You answered the phone
"Jouno?"
"Y/n" came his curt response
"We didn't do it"
"Of course you didn't" he mused. In your frantic state, you didn't notice the sarcastic undertone "Why don't you stay where you are and I'll deal with everything?"
"You- you believe me?" Was your hopeful response. You were shattered by his next words:
"We're on our way to apprehend you. Stay where you are, y/n. Can you do that?" he responded coldly.
Your heart dropped.
"Alright" you lied. You hoped that the response was short enough to pass under his radar for lying. You hoped the phone would distort your words enough to not make him suspicious. You hoped that he'd chalk up your wavering voice to stress.
You ended the call.
You hated deceiving your boyfriend. But he wouldn't believe you. So your survival instincts had to kick in. You threw your phone into the bush. It is probably already being tracked. Leaving it here would force the Hunting Dogs into a detour and buy you time....
The call is his way of giving you a chance. A chance to fix the mess you created. A chance to make it up to him - a shame you never got the memo.
A shame that in your mind the call was him mocking you. Telling you that he didn't believe you and that you were now on opposite sides....
Obviously he is beyond mad when you did not wait - if you hadn't run, he would have been able to negotiate relative safety for you. He is a valuable member of the hunting dogs, after all...
But now, you were just being problematic on purpose. Running and lying and betraying him like that
You know that they will catch up with you. Still, that doesn't stop you from trying to escape.
You dread the first encounter with him and rightfully so:
The car was going smoothly down the road.
"I know a hideout we can go to, but I'd loathe being there" Yosano spoke up. That gave you hope - if you managed to settle down and think things through - you'd be able to prove your innocence and Jouno wouldn't be mad.
"Really? Where's that?"
"I'm interested too. Please, do tell us about this hiding place" Jouno. And his unnerving smile. Your heart skips a beat.
He's right next to you and he won't even look your way. Won't even acknowledge you. That hurts.
"Jouno?" your voice is pleading, hoping to make him see, understand you situation, "Listen, we didn't-"
He cuts you off with a brusque gesture.
"Save it" his voice is harsh and cold. You shiver.
At this point, he is harsh and curt with you
Treating you as if you were just a common criminal, if not worse (a common criminal wouldn't invoke such deep feelings of betrayal in him, now, would they?)
If you expect him to be more lenient with you because of your relationship... You're partially right... He wouldn't want to harm you too much, but his anger and sadism might cause you a few injuries.
Despite his outward hostility and seeming coldness, he is still protective and cares deeply about you.
He does mask it exceptionally well.
Surrounding a caring gesture with so many sharp and thorny words... That you aren't sure if he is being kind or cruel (it's both - he found a perfect balance):
Tecchou's strike was true and it was aimed at you. It would have hit you head on. Probably targeting something vital. Consequences could be deadly. Lethal. You'd be dead on the spot, if Jouno hadn't swiftly redirected his partner's blade to the right.
It all happened so quick. You saw a flash of silver and already resigned yourself to death. Then a sound of metal clashing against metal and instead of piercing you through the heart, the blade merely caught your side.
It's still hurt as hell. And blood still gushed out of the wound.
Jouno clicked his tongue. Dissatisfied with the outcome.
He turned to Tecchou, dark expression on his face:
"Remember, harm the girl and I'll shove you off a cliff"
Tecchou nodded. Silent understanding.
You didn't hear them. All you saw was them exchanging a few curt replicas and Jouno approach you.
He knelt on one knee next to you. Looking at you on the ground. Blood trickling out. He furrowed his brows. He stretched out his arm for you and there you found a peace of cloth.
"Tie it around your torso. Stop the bleeding. We have no use for you if you die"
His sharp and hurtful words. A contrast to the kindness he just displayed. It left you more confused.
After a while you realise that the strikes towards you are less harmful and are mainly designed to intimidate rather than actually deal damage
You will also realise that your friends are not getting the same treatment
If you end up exploiting that to your advantage, by using your body to shield someone from a lethal strike (forcing Jouno to redirect his otherwise perfect aim to avoid killing you), he will be beyond mad
He will be fuming with rage
He will not show it
Not explicitly
Not to others
But you will know
You will know by the way he cocks his head to the side, and barely audibly utters "That's how you want to play it?"
You know it by the way the next strike is a bit more forceful
You know it because the next strike actually does damage. It comes as a shock. Something unexpected
You have come to rely on the fact that all the previous attacks weren't truly aimed at you....
Your eyes widen in pain and in shock.
A smile stretches on his face. Unperturbed. Calm. As if he wasn't the reason you were clutching your shoulder, desperate to stop the oozing blood.
He approaches you. Calmly. And places his hand on your shoulder, trying to slow the bleeding. His glove getting stained red.
"Do you fancy this better, y/n? I truly don't want to harm you. So why don't you stop interfering, hm? Then, we can... Just go home..."
You notice there is something pleading in his tone. You do not answer and he sees this as a permission to proceed:
"I can even arrange for the charges against you to be dropped on account of coercion" he stops briefly. Letting you speak. You stoically cling to silence, "Let me paint the scene for you: they forced you into cooperation, knowing that you were in a relationship with one of the Hunting Dogs. Coerced you into a crime. And now I came to rescue you. Sounds half good, no? All I need is a bit of cooperation, y/n, is that really so hard?"
He smiled. You flinched at his smile. There was so much care in it. And so much malice at the same time.
And yet you know he loves you. And wants to protect you. And yet you know that you can't accept his protection... Not on such conditions..
You want to give in. But you will not betray the Detective Agency. You can't.
He senses that you made your decision before you even announce it. He is good like that... His smile drops.
"Fine then" his voice is cold again.
You stare at the man you fell in love with. The one who could be so gentle and so caring. You knew of his darker side, of course. He was nothing if not honest with you...
A stray tear rolls down your cheek. You never expected to end up like this. He wipes the tear away. And in this gesture and his softened gaze, you can spot the tenderness and love, burried deep down.
His gaze hardens the next second and his hand drops down. He stands up.
A silent understanding passes between you. For now, until the issue is resolved, one way or another, you are enemies. You are on opposite sides of this. And there won't be no mercy.
â â ââ â ââ â ââ â
A/n: alrightyy, I hope this turned out well:) I have noticed that I may have slipped into some darker themes at times... And this turned out slightly more angsty than I intended...
Let me know if I should write a part 2 or a similar thing for Tecchou (I'm starting to have ideas here)
Oh and before I forget, lemme note, that the characters from Bungo Stray Dogs belong to Kafka Asagiri and yeah, I used a few quotes from the episode
Hello!! I hope you are having a wonderful day/night! I was just wondering if you have any good Levi fanfic recommendations? Preferably x reader and canon-compliant? Ik this is so random lol I just feel like you would have good recommendations!! And in general even if they arenât x reader or canon-compliant. Your writing is so good and I just know you would have good tasteđ„°
Hi, of course, happy to share recs :D Excuse the length of this, but I somehow ended up giving you my 5+ years worth of i-am-once-again-hopelessly-addicted-to-Levi AO3 bookmarks, heh. I tried to categorize them best I can.
These beautiful stories are mostly x Reader, a few x OC. Please heed the tags & if you can, let the authors know that you appreciate their writing (:
LEVI x READER RECS
CANON* LONG-FICS
(*some are pre-canon or post-canon)
Dust, Diamond by maotkitty
Death's Door by SongsOfApollo
Veins of the Citadel by cinnamads
Felines and Canidae by veratrance / @veratrance
Through Peril and Refuge by post_academic
To You, 2,000 Feet Above by PrettyxVenom99 / @prettyxvenom99
His Wounded Heart Beats For One by UrbanDeity / @urbandeity
North Star by sixpennydame / @sixpennydame
Silver Soul by oi_levi / @bibblelevi
First Time Anthology by Levmada / @rivangel
Freedom & Death by killerpillar / @killerpillar
silver underground by tothestrongones / @amywritesthings
One Brushstroke At A Time by missEmpress
AU LONG-FICS
Paychecks with a Side of Intimacy (sugar daddy AU) by Milmie / @leyyvi
A Soul Beyond Salvation (western AU) by ananimegirlhasnoname / @ananimegirlhasnoname
Lessons in Patience (college AU) by almondblossoms1000 / @capricornlevi
As the Sparks Die (zombie AU) by wellitcouldbeworse3
Project Arcane (urban fantasy AU) by missEmpress
The Romance of Reimbursements (modern AU) by taomyou / @taomyou
To Sing a Song of Steel (fantasy AU) by CaptainDegenerate
House of Cards (royalty AU) by darlingheichou / @h0neylevi
Percolate (coffee shop AU) by heichoe / @heich0e
Kintsugi (figure skating AU) by @humanitys-strongest-brat
BOUND BY DUTY (royalty AU) by mrsackxrman / @atruewarrior
dark side of the moon (sci-fi/yakuza AU) by sixpennydame / @sixpennydame
To You, 1000 Years From Now (isekai) by darlingheichou / @h0neylevi
Unspoken Words (modern AU) by chaos_on_main / @chaotic-on-main
ONE-SHOTS/TWO-SHOTS
(AU and canon)
Melt by chimeragarden / @chimera-garden
Mise En Place by gothgril69 / @gothgril69
[watch me fall apart, watch me fall apart] by djmarinizela
the mortal price of crossing twice by heichoe / @heich0e
we're all alone, ride it by alleviate / @alleviate-ao3
Kiss It Better by oi_levi / @bibblelevi
It's a Wrap! by jayteacups / @jayteacups
Thundershower by Levmada / @rivangel
SHADES OF GRAY by mrsackxrman / @atruewarrior
One Step from Hades by silesy
waking reverie by captain-hawks
All Too Familiar by jayteacups / @jayteacups
Your Safe Space by humanitysstrongestbamf / @humanitys-strongest-bamf
Desperation by veratrance / @veratrance
Under the Mistletoe by youre_ackermine / @youre-ackermine
Welcome Home by FlameTrashira / @flametrashira
Tea and Therapy by misspearlmd
For the Living by BreakingGround / @thechaoticarchivist
Last category is a Levi x Erwin x F!Reader story that I always recommend bc it altered my brain chemistry.
this is a story of the sea by shinzouing / @shinzouing
I didn't go into specifics or share fics from Tumblr bc this post would never end but, if you want, check out my rec tag and go give the fics on here all the love they deserve <3
( also, adding to that: the stories mentioned in this post are simply what I've personally read, it is by no means meant to exclude other fics/writers. Truth is, I have not read everything out there as I am just one person, so if anyone has any recs to add, feel free to add and continue to show support for different creators! )
âyou know,â yaga started slowly, side-eyeing the sea of alumini surrounding him. covered in wounds and scratches alike. yet all eyes fix to the scene only a few metres away.
the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, bent and observing every inch of your being. you, his wife. his large hands cupping your face once he's assured no fatal harm has come onto you.
some eyes soften as you're dragged into satoru's strong arms. some hitch their breaths at the look of softness in bright blue eyes that boasted utmost feralness but a moment ago. when your life was on the line. when the sea of opponents thought it a grand idea to target you â the honoured one's beloved.
âif anything happens to that woman," yaga continued, blank, despite the small throat clear.
SUMMARY: before your junior year of uni started, you and your friends decided to go to the club. who would've thought that the guy you hooked up with ended up being your new business management professor.
GENRE: smau, age gap (7 years), forbidden love, strangers to fb to lovers, fluff, angst, crack, SMUT, college setting
CHARACTERS: purple kiss's chaein as yn's faceclaim, enhypen (hyung line is aged up), new jeans' hanni, billie's suyeon, lesserafim's eunchae, boynextdoor's jaehyun, zerobaseone's ricky
WARNINGS: (a lot) of cursing, bad attempt at humour lmao, sexual jokes and suggestive af, smut in some chapters (minors dni)
TAGLIST: @jakef3ver @bxcndd @03sunoos @insommni4 @jjhmk @haevvv @hyinneehoon @wildtigerlili @eyesonlybutterflies @right-person-wrong-time @tkooooop @jooniesbears-blog @baedreamverse @kyshhhhhh @sunhyeswife @sumzysworld (comment on this post or ask in my inbox <3)
UPDATE DAYS: tuesdays, fridays and sundays
a/n: since i'll be finishing about the boy tonight, here is my next smau since it was the one most votes after the riki one on the poll hihi đ€
warnings. sexual assault, slavery, a greek retelling, eventual smut, war/gore, this wonât have a happy ending
pairing. odysseus x fem! reader (inspired by epic:the musical)
in the heart of troy, amidst the towering walls and architecture, the city bustled with the vibrant energy of its people. the market squares were filled with the sounds of merchants haggling and children playing, unaware of the shadow of war creeping ever closer. within the palace, the air was differentâheavier with the scent of incense and the hum of anticipation.
you, a young slave girl with kind eyes and calloused hands, moved silently through the halls. your life was one of routine and quiet obedience, your existence almost invisible among the grandeur of the palace. today, however, was a day of celebration, and even you could not escape the excitement that seemed to permeate the very stones of troy.
the reason for the festivities was the birth of the heir, the firstborn son of prince hector and his beloved wife, andromache. the birth of the child promised new hope and joy, a symbol of strength and continuity. their legacy now secured if the gods favored them so. the celebration was to be grand, with nobles and warriors alike gathering to honor the new prince and his family.
you had been tasked with pouring wine for the guests. it was a simple task, yet it required precision and graceâqualities that had been drilled into you from a young age. you carried a large jug, the cool red liquid sloshing gently inside, as you made your way to the grand hall.
as you entered the hall, you were struck by the sight before you. the room was adorned with rich tapestries and garlands of flowers. the tables were laden with food and drink, and the air was filled with the murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. at the center of it all was prince hector, his tall frame and noble bearing making him easily recognizable. beside him stood andromache, cradling their newborn son, both of them beaming with pride and joy.
you approached the head table with a steady gait, careful not to draw too much attention to yourself. you dipped your head respectfully, eyes fixed on the ground. you could feel the weight of the guests' gazes on you, but you remained focused, constantly reminding yourself to not make a mistake in your mind as you were known to be a bit clumsy.
"wine, my lord?" you asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.
hector turned to you, his expression warm and kind. "yes, thank you," he said, gesturing to the goblet before him.
you carefully poured the wine, the liquid catching the light and sparkling as it filled the goblet. moving down the table, you repeated the process for andromache and the other guests. as you worked, you couldn't help but steal glances at the infant in andromache's arms. the baby boy, unaware of the significance of his birth, slept peacefully, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.
the celebration continued, the sounds of music and laughter filling the hall. you retreated to the edges of the room, task completed only for the moment. you watched the scene unfold, a mixture of longing and contentment in your heart. despite your status, you found joy in the happiness of others, even if it was a distant joy.
the night wore on and you remained vigilant, ready to attend to any needs that might arise. you and everyone else were unaware of the storm brewing beyond the walls of troy, the consequences of paris' actions casting a long shadow over the kingdom that would consume them in darkness in due time. for now, in this moment of peace, the future seemed bright and full of promise.
but you knew, as did everyone in troy, that peace was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the whims of fate. and as you stood in the grand hall, the echoes of the past and the whispers of the future intertwined, creating a tapestry of uncertainty that would shape the destiny of troy and all who lived within its walls.
lingering on the edges of the grand hall, your eyes scanning the room for any sign that you might be needed. the celebration for the birth of hector's son was still going even as night fell, the hall being brought alive with music and laughter.
suddenly, the room seemed to tilt as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you roughly into the light.
you turned to see hector's younger brother, prince deiphobus, his face flushed with wine and his eyes glazed with a drunken haze. he was known for his roguish charm, but tonight, it was more than evident that he had indulged too much.
"well, well, what do we have here?" he slurred, his hand wandering from your shoulder down your arm, lingering in a way that made your skin crawl. "a pretty little dove in the midst of all these hawks."
you stiffened, your pulse quickening as you bit your tongue, swallowing the surge of disgust that rose within you. you were a servantâa slave, and he was a prince. to resist would mean severe punishment, which meant you had no choice but to endure.
"my lord, can i get you some water?" you offered, hoping to distract him, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.
deiphobus laughed, a sound that was more menacing than mirthful. "water? no, i have something else in mind." his hand moved to your waist, drawing you closer as his breath was hot and reeking of alcohol against your ear. "tell me, does a slave like you know how to have fun?"
you forced a smile, the muscles in your face straining with the effort. "i am here to serve, my lord, in whatever way pleases you."
he grinned, his hand sliding lower. "good girl," he murmured, fingers tracing the curve of your hip. "i knew you would understand."
every fiber of your being screamed to pull away, but you remained still, eyes fixed on the ground. you could feel the weight of the guests' gazes on you, some watching with curiosity, others with indifferenceâafter all, your plight meant nothing to them.
"why don't we find a quieter place, hmm?" deiphobus suggested, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.
"deiphobus," helenus called out from next to them, raising his goblet to his lips as he quirked a brow, voice calm but commanding. "leave her be."
deiphobus turned, a drunken sneer on his face. "ah, helenus. always the serious one. why don't you go back to your scrolls and leave the fun to me?"
helenus' eyes narrowed. "surely you can go one night without tainting another servant. find entertainment elsewhere and by the gods, remember that you're a prince, have some decorum."
deiphobus scoffed, but the firmness in helenus's voice gave him pause. he let go of you with a rough shove, making you stumble back. "fine, fine," he muttered, turning away with a dismissive wave. "always spoiling the fun."
helenus watched him go, his expression unchanging until deiphobus disappeared into the crowd. then, he turned to you, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "next time you ought to remember i won't be able to stop him, i suggest you find a way to keep your hands busy."
you nodded with a tug inside your chest. "yes, my lord, thank you."
with that, he looked away, drowning the conversation of the people around him as his own servants served him grapes. you took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you took helenus' advice, moving around the large room to keep yourself occupied and out of the sight of deiphobus.
you felt the fragility of peace hanging in the air, a feeling of knowing that the celebration of new life was shadowed by the impending storm. yet, within the confines of your role, you found a flicker of strength, a resolve to endure whatever fate the gods had in store for you.
authorâs note. comment your thoughts, if this does well Iâll continue it over on here and might put more effort into the account. you can find this story also on my wattpad account. thanks for reading!
ship: odysseus x fem!calypso!reader
warnings: non-explicit
word count: 7.3k (strap up, babes, this is a long one~)
a/n: Y'all forgive me, i have been horrible and abandoned the fandom đđ; i swear it wasn't on purpose, i just haven't been bit by the inspiration bug, but nevertheless, here i am getting inspired, so enjoy my twist on odysseus w/ calypso, no worries there will be a prt.2
The sea spat him out like an unwanted secret. You watched from the cliffs as his body was tossed against the sand, limbs splayed like a broken marionette.
Thunderheads still roared in the distance, but the storm had spent its fury, leaving only the shattered remnants of his ship and the limp figure of its captain.
His first breath on your island was a gasp, harsh and desperate, followed by a violent cough that shook his entire frame.
Water poured from his mouth, a relentless cascade as he heaved, clawing at the sand with shaking fingers. He turned onto his side, retching, purging the sea from his lungs.
Each convulsion seemed to rip through him, leaving him weaker, more drained, until he collapsed back onto the shore, chest heaving, eyes shut tight against the grit and salt.
Above, the clouds began to peel away, the black and bruised sky giving way to a faint glimmer of sun.
The wind, once howling, softened to a mournful sigh, as if the island itself pitied him. Waves lapped at his feet, gentle now, apologetic, as if seeking to soothe the very man they had tried to destroy.
His eyelids fluttered open, the sky above a blur of gray and gold. He groaned, the sound raw and broken, the cry of a man who had seen too much, lost too much.
He lay there, sprawled out on the sand, staring up at the heavens with eyes full of disbelief and despair. His voice, hoarse and cracking, clawed its way out of his throat.
"Why?" he croaked, the single word carried away by the wind. "Why do you forsake me?"
He tried to rise, muscles trembling as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He looked around, taking in the unfamiliar shore, the jagged rocks jutting out like sentinels, the dense forest looming beyond. He was aloneâutterly, helplessly alone.
The Gods had abandoned him here, cast him away like a piece of flotsam.
"Have I not suffered enough!?" he shouted, the words rasping against his parched throat. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. "Is this my reward for years of service, for blood spilled and honor upheld?"
The sky remained silent, indifferent to his plea. He dropped his head back onto the sand, teeth gritted in frustration, the last remnants of strength draining out of him.
The silence that followed was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of his failures.
You could almost feel it, that heavy despair that hung around him like a shroud. A warrior undone, not by the sword or the spear, but by the endless, unrelenting cruelty of fate.
You knew that lookâhad seen it before, in the eyes of those who had washed up on your shores, broken and lost, only to be healed by your touch, only to be bound by your love.
But this one⊠He was different.
His suffering was like a beacon, bright and piercing, pulling at something deep within you, something you had buried long ago.
And so you watched, unseen and silent, as he lay on the shore, a man shattered, calling out to Gods who would not answer.
You wondered who this man was, what sins he must have committed to be cast into your lonely exile. Another soul, shattered and lost, delivered to you by the cruel whim of fate.
Was this the Gods' twisted sense of humor, to send you the broken, the despairing, and then sit back and watch as you tried, again and again, to piece them together, knowing each time that they would eventually leave, taking a piece of you with them?
It had been that way for as long as you could remember. They arrived on your shores, eyes wide with fear or despair, bodies battered by storms both within and without.
And you, like a fool, took them in, healed their wounds, offered them solace. You let them weave themselves into your heart, into your very soul, only for them to tear themselves free when the time came, leaving you bleeding and hollow.
Was he any different, this man with his piercing eyes and voice full of sorrow? Would he be the one to break you completely? You don't know. But as you turned away from the beach, you couldn't help but feel that this time, the Gods had sent you a different kind of suffering.
You moved through the familiar paths, the underbrush parting easily beneath your feet. It was an old routine, gathering the essentialsâjust enough to keep them alive until they could find the will to keep themselves going.
Your hands worked mechanically, filling a small basket with a jug of water, a bit of bread, some fish you'd caught that morning. It was more than they ever needed, really. Most of them wouldn't even look at food when they first arrived, the shock still too raw, too immediate.
As you made your way back, the weight of the basket a comforting presence against your hip, you tried to steel yourself for what you would find. But when you reached the beach again, your breath caught in your throat.
He was sitting up now, his back to you, shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world still pressed down on him. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, empty and unfocused, the eyes of a man who had seen too much.
What remained of his clothes clung to him, tattered and soaked through. His armorâwhat little was left of itâgleamed dully in the fading light. A breastplate, once magnificent, now dented and scarred, a single pauldron hanging by a thread, the gold tarnished and scratched.
The rest had been torn away by the sea, leaving him exposed, vulnerable.
He looked every inch the hero brought low, a man stripped of his glory, left with nothing but his pain and regret. His dark hair clung to his forehead, still damp with seawater, and his hands rested limply on his knees, fingers digging into the sand as if he needed to feel something solid, something real.
You stopped a few paces away, your shadow stretching out before you. He didn't notice. Didn't even flinch. You could see it then, the full extent of his despair, etched into every line of his face, every weary slump of his shoulders.
He was beautiful, in a tragic sort of way, like a statue of a fallen God.
And you knew, as you stood there watching him, that this one would not be easy to heal. This one had a wound that went far deeper than flesh and bone.
You took a step forward, and then another, until you were close enough that your presence cast a shadow over him. He blinked, as if just now realizing you were there, his head turning slowly, eyes lifting to meet yours.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was heavy, laden with the unspoken, the unknown.
You held out the basket, your heart pounding in your chest. "You need to eat," you said softly, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves.
He didn't move, just stared at you with those piercing eyes, eyes that seemed to see right through you.
And for a moment, you thought he might refuse. That he might just turn away, let himself be swallowed by the sea again, and you would be left standing there, holding out something that could never be enough.
But then, slowly, he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took the jug of water from your grasp.
"Thank you," he murmured, the words rough and uncertain, as if he hadnât spoken in a long time. He took a small sip, then another, his eyes never leaving yours.
You watched him, this broken man, and wondered what kind of suffering had brought him to you.
And what kind of suffering he would bring in return.
The days here had a way of slipping through your fingers, soft and warm like the sands on your island. It was easy to lose track of time, lulled by the rhythm of the waves, the steady pulse of the tides.
You had left him to his own devices, giving him the space he needed to come to terms with whatever fate had led him here. Most of them needed thatâtime to break down, to cry, to rage at the Gods.
But not this one.
When you returned the next day, basket in hand, you stopped short at the sight before you.
He was shirtless, skin bronzed and gleaming with sweat, muscles taut as he hammered a spike into the ground with a makeshift wooden-mallet. His remaining clothes and battered armor were piled neatly to the side, along with a few other scavenged materials.
The sound of wood striking stone echoed across the beach, a steady, determined rhythm that spoke of purpose.
There was the frame of a hovel half-built, crude but sturdy, the beginnings of a shelter taking shape where there had been only barren sand.
A small pile of freshly caught fish lay nearby, their scales glinting in the sunlight. You could still see the blood on his hands, fresh from gutting and cleaning them. He worked with an intensity that was almost mesmerizing, every movement precise, controlled.
"Wow," you murmured, stepping closer, setting the basket down at your feet. "I'm impressed."
He stilled at the sound of your voice, shoulders tensing as he glanced over his shoulder. Sweat dripped down his brow, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you, assessing.
You gestured to the hovel, the fish, the evidence of his labor. "Most who arrive here are still crying or lost, not knowing what to do with themselves. You're already building shelter."
His eyes sharpened, his expression shifting from guarded to curious, almost suspicious. He straightened, rolling his shoulders, the muscles in his back shifting under his skin as he set the mallet down. "There have been others?"
You snorted softly, crossing your arms as you looked at him. "Of course, there have been others. Did you think you were the first to be sent here?" The question was almost rhetorical, a simple truth that hung in the air between you.
He frowned, his gaze turning thoughtful, troubled. "Where is here?"
You hesitated for a moment, then took a few steps forward, your eyes flicking to the sword he had tossed carelessly to the side, half-buried in the sand. You reached down, your fingers brushing over the hilt. "This is Ogygia," you said, the name slipping easily from your lips, as familiar to you as your own. "A place of exile, for those the Gods have no more use for."
You were still tracing the hilt of his sword, fingers brushing over the worn leather grip when he spoke again, his voice tight and strained. "Is there a way off this island?"
You stilled, your gaze shifting from the sword to him, catching the desperation in his eyes through your lashes. For a moment, you considered lying, spinning some tale of escape, but youâd seen that look before, and you knew what would follow.
"You can try," you said, your voice calm, almost detached as if you'd had this conversation a thousand times before. "But once you get at least five feet from the shore, the waves will rise and destroy whatever you're floating on to pieces."
The truth of your words hung heavy in the air, a quiet certainty that left no room for hope. His face twisted, the anger and helplessness flaring in his eyes as stared at you.
You could see the way his jaw clenched, muscles ticking beneath the stubble on his cheeks, his fingers flexing and unflexing at his sides as if he wanted to hit something, anything.
He turned away, staring at the horizon as if willing it to yield some answer, some solution.
He was the very picture of a man caught in a trap he couldn't break free from.
"Excuse me," you murmured, pushing yourself up from the sand and brushing off your hands, wanting to give him space to process the reality of his situation.
"Wait!"
The word came out sharp, almost desperate, and you paused, glancing back over your shoulder. He was looking at you, really looking, his eyes piercing, searching for somethingâanythingâthat made sense of all this.
"Who are you?"
You could feel the laugh bubbling up inside youâa tired, almost bitter sound that you suppressed, forcing your expression into something calm, something almost serene.
It was always the same: this question, the disbelief, the desperate need to know why they were here, why you were here.
"Calypso," you said, the name falling from your lips like a sigh. "Daughter of Atlas and Pleione."
He blinked, the words clearly not the answer he had been expecting. He stared at you for a long moment, his brow furrowing as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.
"Calypso," he repeated softly, your name unfamiliar on his tongue. There was a softness to it, a kind of reverence that almost made you want to laugh.
You hummed, a sound low and almost mournful. "Aye, cursed to carry the brunt of my parents' sins."
You saw the way his jaw tightened, the flicker of something like pity in his eyes before he looked away, his gaze shifting to the sand at his feet as if he couldn't bear to look at you.
You wondered what it was he saw, whether he saw you as a jailer or just another prisoner in this place of exile.
He cleared his throat, the sound rough, hesitant. "My name is Eperitus," he said, the words slow, deliberate, like he was testing them out. "From a small village in Thessaly."
You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly as you watched him. The name meant nothing to you, but the way he said itâthe slight hesitation, the almost imperceptible shift in his postureâit was a lie, or at the very least, not the whole truth.
Still, you nodded, as if you believed him, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. "Very well, Eperitus," you said, the name rolling off your tongue with a hint of amusement. "I suppose I will leave you to it."
His eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of suspicion in his gaze, but you didn't give him time to question it. You turned, your bare feet barely making a sound on the sand as you walked away, leaving him there, alone with his thoughts.
You could feel his eyes on your back, the weight of his gaze heavy, but you didn't look back. You had seen this play out too many times beforeâthe hope, the despair, the bargaining with fate.
Each time, it was different, and yet, always the same.
And this man, this Eperitus, whatever name he chose to call himself, was no different.
You just wondered how long it would take him to realize it.
The waterfall cascaded down from the rocks above, the sound a constant, soothing roar that drowned out everything else. The water sparkled in the late afternoon sun, clear and cool as it pooled into the pond below, a hidden sanctuary nestled within the heart of your island.
You stood in the shallow waters, the hem of your white slip floating just above your knees, the fabric clinging to your skin in places where the water lapped gently against you.
The air was sweet with the scent of jasmine and wet earth, the leaves above casting dappled shadows across the surface of the pond.
You hummed softly under your breath, an old song your mother had taught you long ago, a tune that spoke of faraway places and dreams that never seemed to come true.
The melody blended with the sounds of the waterfall, a quiet lullaby that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.
It was peaceful here, a place untouched by the outside world, a place where you could almost forget who you were and why you were here. You dipped your hands into the water, scrubbing at a piece of cloth, the rhythm of the motion almost hypnotic.
Then, a sharp crack echoed through the grove, the sound of a branch snapping underfoot. Your head snapped up, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes scanned the treeline.
It took only a moment for your gaze to settle on him, partially hidden behind the bushes, his body frozen in a half-crouch, as if he had been trying to sneak away unnoticed.
"Eperitus?" you called out softly, your voice carrying easily over the sound of the water. He flinched, his eyes wide, a startled, almost guilty look on his face as he straightened up. He took a step back, his gaze darting around as if he were trying to find an escape.
For a moment, you thought he might run, but then he seemed to gather himself, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stepped forward, pushing through the bushes. "I didn't mean to startle you," he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. His cheeks were flushed, whether from the heat or embarrassment, you couldnât tell.
You offered him a small, reassuring smile, setting the cloth aside as you turned to face him fully. "It's alright," you said gently, wiping your hands on the slip, the water dripping from your fingers. "I wasn't expecting company, that's all."
He nodded, his eyes flicking to the ground, then back to you, a hesitant, almost bashful look on his face. "I just... I was looking for you," he admitted, his voice barely above a murmur. "I thought I'd, well... check in."
You tilted your head slightly, studying him.
It had been a few weeks since your last conversation on the beach, and in that time, you had kept your distance, letting him find his footing, so to speak. He was more self-sufficient than most who ended up here, resourceful and determined in a way that spoke of a man who had spent years fighting to survive.
You had stepped back, observing him from a distance, only intervening when necessary.
You'd seen him sitting on the shore more than once, staring out at the sea with a look in his eyes that made your chest ache. A kind of yearning, a quiet desperation that seemed to pull at something deep inside you.
Other times, you'd found him working tirelessly on his shelter, hammering away at the wooden frame with a focus that bordered on obsession.
You shrugged lightly, the gesture casual, as if it didn't matter to you either way. "You've been doing fine on your own," you said, your tone light, almost teasing. "Didn't think you needed my help."
His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile passing over his face before it faded. He glanced down at his hands, rough and calloused, the fingers still smudged with dirt and sawdust. "I wasn't sure if I was... interrupting," he said awkwardly, his gaze flicking back up to meet yours.
You laughed softly, the sound echoing through the grove. "You've been here long enough to know I'm not that easy to disturb," you said, amusement coloring your words. You glanced at him, taking in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the awkwardness that seemed almost out of place on a man like him.
"Besides," you added, your voice softening slightly, "I've been keeping an eye on you. Just to make sure you didn't do anything foolish."
His eyes widened slightly, and you saw a flash of something in his gazeâsurprise, maybe, or something close to it. "I've been that obvious, have I?"
You shook your head, taking a few steps closer until you were standing just at the edge of the pond, the water swirling around your waist. "You're not the first to end up here, remember?" you said quietly. "I know the signs."
He looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared at the ground, his hands curling into fists at his sides. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to hold himself together by sheer force of will.
"I'm sorry." He glanced back at you, his eyes dark with something you couldn't quite name. "I didn't mean toâ"
"To what?" you interrupted gently, your gaze softening as you looked at him. "You've done nothing wrong, Eperitus."
He flinched slightly at the name, and you saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes before he quickly looked away. It was almost imperceptible, but you caught it, that brief hesitation, that moment of uncertainty.
You hummed softly, waving him off with a light smile. "No worries," you said, your voice easy and warm. You turned away, wading through the cool water to where the last cloth floated lazily on the surface.
The fabric clung to your fingers as you lifted it, squeezing out the excess water, your movements slow and deliberate. Droplets slid down your arms, glistening like tiny jewels in the fading light as you made your way back to the shore.
Setting the damp cloth gently in the woven basket with the other clean clothes, you straightened, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face. "I was meaning to tell you, there's fresh water here. You can come and bathe; clean up a bit." You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you shifted the basket to the side. "Unless you're the type of Greek who doesn't do that."
He let out a short, surprised chuckle at that, the sound rough and genuine, his shoulders relaxing just a little. But then his laughter died away, the words faltering on his lips as he looked at you.
You stepped out of the pond, the water cascading down your legs, the sunlight filtering through the leaves above, casting a soft, golden glow over your skin. Your white slip clung to you like a second skin, the wet fabric almost translucent, outlining the curves of your body in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
His eyes roamed over you, unbidden, as if drawn by some unseen force. Your smooth, sun-kissed skin glistened with droplets of water, each one catching the light, making you look like you were carved from marble, like a statue come to life.
Your hair, damp and wild, was adorned with small pieces of coral and tiny flowersâa crown of nature's bounty that seemed almost otherworldly.
By Aphrodite's graceâŠ
The thought struck him like a blow, and he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from letting the words slip past his lips. He watched you, mesmerized, as you moved with an effortless grace, your bare feet barely making a sound on the moss-covered stones.
Every step, every sway of your hips, seemed to pull him in deeper, into a trance he couldn't escape.
You seemed almost unreal, as if the Gods themselves had sculpted you from the very essence of desire.
His gaze lingered on your lips, soft and full, naturally pouty in a way that made his mouth go dry. He thought to reach out and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers, to trace the line of your jaw, the curve of your neck.
He swallowed hard, his pulse thrumming in his ears, his hands clenched into fists at his sides to keep from losing himself completely.
His breath hitched, his mind spiraling, teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something he shouldn't be thinking, shouldn't be feeling.
He had a wife, a son, a home waiting for him, a life he had fought tooth and nail to return to.
Penelope, with her quiet strength and unwavering loyalty, the woman he loved more than life itself.
And yet, here he was, staring at you like a starving man, drinking in every detail, every inch of your body with a hunger that burned in his veins.
It was wrong, all of it, and yet he couldn't look away, couldn't pull himself free from the spell you had woven around him.
You were beautiful, achingly so, and in that moment, he knew he was treading dangerous ground.
And for the first time in a long, long time, he truly felt afraid.
"Eperitus?"
Your voice, soft and lilting, broke through the haze in his mind, snapping him back to reality. You were looking at him with those wide, doe-like eyes, your gaze gentle, curious, your lips curved into the barest hint of a smile.
He cleared his throat, the sound rough and strangled, his eyes wide as if he'd just snatched Persephone from Hades' very arms. He took a stumbling step back, his hands raising slightly as if in surrender, his gaze darting away from you as if your very presence burned him.
"IâI'm sorry," he stammered, his voice uneven, breaking on the last word. He shook his head, the movement almost frantic, as if he could shake free of whatever spell you had woven around him. "I didn't mean toâI shouldâI should go."
He gestured vaguely toward the forest behind him, his hands trembling ever so slightly. "Fish," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the word itself was a lifeline, something to hold onto in the chaos of his thoughts. "I need toâ I'll go fish. Or forage. Or fix something. Yes, I'llâ I'll go do that."
He took another step back, almost tripping over his own feet; his cheeks flushed a deep, mortified red. His eyes flicked back to you, just for a moment, and then away again before hurrying off like a man fleeing the scene of a crime, the ghost of your beauty chasing him, haunting his every step.
You watched him go, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, its light spilling across the sea in a riot of colorsâgold and crimson bleeding into the darkening blue of the water, the water shimmering like liquid gold beneath the dying light.
You sat with your legs curled up beside you on the cliff's edge, the wind whispering around you, soft and cool, tugging gently at your hair as if trying to coax you closer to the edge.
This was your favorite place on the island, the place where the land met the sea, where you could sit and lose yourself in the endless expanse of water and sky. It was where you had seen him, Eperitusâhis body limp and broken, washed ashore like so many others before him, another lost soul thrown at your feet by the whims of the Gods.
The ocean stretched out before you, vast and endless, its beauty a cruel mockery of the cage that held you.
For as long as you could remember, this had been your only view, the only sight that had remained unchanged through centuries of exile. The sky, the sea, the starsâeternally bound to this lonely rock, this place that was both your sanctuary and your prison.
The water was so close, just a few feet away, and yet it might as well have been a world apart. You could still feel it, the pull of the tides, the longing that thrummed in your veins, the memory of what it was to be one with the sea.
You sighed softly, your gaze following the path of the sun as it dipped lower, the sky turning from brilliant orange to deep purple.
Once, you had swum through these waters as freely as the dolphins, your body slicing through the waves like a silver blade. The ocean had been your domain, your home, every current and tide a part of you.
You were a sea nymph, a daughter of the sea, wild and unbound, but the water no longer sang to youâno longer held the promise of escape.
But that was before.
You closed your eyes, the memories crashing over you like waves, each one more painful than the last.
The Titanomachy. The great war that had torn the heavens and the earth apart, that had pitted brother against brother, father against son.
You had watched from the sidelines, powerless to intervene, to stop the destruction that had swept through your family, your kind. And when the dust had settled, when the victors had claimed their spoils and the losers had been cast down into the darkness, you had been left behind, forgotten.
Or so you had thought.
The punishment had come later, delivered with the cold, indifferent hand of justice.
You, the daughter of Atlas, the child of Pleione, had been deemed unworthy, a threat to the new order of things. And so you had been cast out, not to the depths of Tartarus, but to this island, this paradise-turned-prison, to live out your days in endless solitude.
You had not wept, not then.
You had been too proud, too defiant to show the Gods your pain. But as the years had passed, as one by one, those who washed up on your shores had come and gone, the loneliness had seeped into your bones, a slow, insidious poison that sapped your strength, your will.
You had not been broken by the war, but by the endless, unchanging years that followed. You had stopped counting the days, the years. Time had lost its meaning here, each day bleeding into the next in an endless, monotonous cycle.
You had grown numb, your heart a hollow thing, a fragile shell that you guarded fiercely, lest it shatter completely.
And yet, there were moments like this, rare and fleeting, when the ache became too much to bear, when the weight of your exile pressed down on you like a physical thing, crushing the breath from your lungs.
You missed it⊠the life you had once knownâthe feel of the water around you, the way it had held you, cradled you in its depths.
The life that you would never get back.
Your eyes stung, the salt of unshed tears burning as you blinked furiously, refusing to let them fall. What good would it do? What good had it ever done? The Gods did not care for your tears, your pain.
They had made their judgment, and you were bound to it, bound to this place, this fate.
You glanced back over your shoulder, towards the fire, towards the small, simple home you had made for yourself on this cursed rock. You had tried to build something, to find some small measure of peace, of contentment in the simple thingsâthe warmth of the sun on your skin, the sound of the waves, the smell of the salt air.
But it was never enough. It would never be enough.
A soft, bitter laugh slipped past your lips. How foolish you had been to think you could defy them, to think that you could carve out some semblance of a life here.
A soft "hey" broke through your thoughts, the voice low and tentative. You blinked, your gaze shifting from the horizon to find him standing a few feet behind you, his posture stiff and uncertain. Eperitus looked like he was at war with himself, his eyes dark and troubled as they searched your face.
"Hey," you replied softly, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below.
You studied him for a moment, taking in the subtle changesâthe way his skin looked cleaner, the faint smell of salt and fresh water clinging to him. He must have taken the time to bathe at the spring, washing away the grime of his journey.
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you raised an eyebrow, a teasing lilt in your voice. "I see you took my advice?"
He chuckled, the sound a bit awkward but genuine, as if he were unused to laughing. He took a few hesitant steps closer before lowering himself beside you, his legs dangling off the edge of the cliff.
For a moment, he said nothing, just sitting there with you, watching as the sun dipped lower, its golden light spilling across the water like liquid gold.
You followed his gaze, the sight of the setting sun a familiar comfort, yet tinged with the ever-present ache of longing. "Helios is resting now," you murmured, your eyes softening as the last sliver of the sun slipped beneath the horizon, casting the world into the gentle embrace of twilight. "Even gods need a reprieve from their duties."
His gaze remained on the horizon, the light from the fire behind you casting shadows across his face. He let out a deep, weary sigh, as if the weight of the world had finally caught up to him. He turned to you then, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that made your breath catch.
"Look, CalypsoâŠ" His voice was strained, rough around the edges, as if the words were being dragged out of him. He swallowed hard, his gaze darting away, unable to meet your eyes. "I haven't been truthful with you." He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, his fingers trembling slightly. "My name⊠it's not Eperitus. I'm not some soldier from a village in Thessaly."
He paused, drawing in a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his own lies were too much to bear. "My name is Odysseus," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking it aloud might shatter the fragile peace between you. "I'm a kingâfrom Ithaca."
You watched him, your expression unreadable, your heart beating steadily in your chest as his words settled in the air between you.
Odysseus.
The name hung there, heavy with meaning, with the weight of the legend that preceded him. A name that had been whispered on the lips of sailors and soldiers, spoken with reverence and fear, a name that had traveled farther than the man himself.
He turned his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with something like regret, like guilt. "I gave you a false name because I⊠I wasn't sure if I could trust you. I didn't know if you were friend or foe, if you were another test from the gods, another trial to endure."
He swallowed again, his throat working as he struggled to find the right words, the right way to explain himself. "But your kindness⊠the way you've treated me, even when I didn't deserve itâŠ" He trailed off, his eyes searching yours, pleading for understanding. "I'm sorry, Calypso. I've spent so long fighting, lying, doing whatever it took to survive, that I forgot what it meant to be honest, to trust."
You let out a sharp snort, then burst into a fit of giggles. The sound caught Odysseus off guard, his head snapping over to you, eyes wide with something like panic. He clearly expected anger or disappointment, but you waved him off, your hand covering your mouth as you struggled to stifle your laughter.
"I-I'm sorry," you managed to say between chuckles, your shoulders shaking as you tried to catch your breath. "It's just⊠'Eperitus'? Really?" You let out another peal of laughter, the sound almost musical in its lightness. "I mean, really? 'Man of Strife'? I may have been stuck on this island for eons, but even that sounds fake! You're lucky I'm polite enough not to have called you out on it."
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and before he could stop himself, he was laughing too, a deep, genuine sound that seemed to surprise him as much as it did you. He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head in mock defeat. "I suppose you are the first to see through it so quickly," he admitted, his voice warm with reluctant admiration.
You hummed, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned back on your palms, the firelight casting a soft glow on your face. "Those around you must not have been that bright to believe it," you teased lightly, watching as his laughter grew, the sound carrying out over the darkening sea.
Odysseus chuckled, shaking his head again. "You'd be surprised," he said, his voice warm with shared humor. "Sometimes, people believe what they want to believe. A name is just a name, after all."
You nodded, the laughter slowly fading as a comfortable silence settled between you, the sound of the waves filling the space left behind.
You glanced at him, the firelight casting his face in soft, flickering shadows, highlighting the lines etched into his features, the weariness in his eyes.
You found yourself wanting to know, to understand, what had brought him here, to your shores, so far from his home.
"How did you find yourself here, Odysseus?" you asked quietly, your voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity. "A king of Ithaca, so far from home."
His smile faltered, the light in his eyes dimming as his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. He let out a long, weary sigh, his gaze dropping to his hands, his fingers tracing absent patterns in the sand.
"It's⊠it's a long tale," he murmured, his voice heavy with the weight of too many memories. "One filled with more suffering than I care to remember."
You shifted slightly, turning to face him more fully, your eyes fixed on his as you waited, patient, giving him the space to begin.
He drew in a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and then he spoke, his words slow, deliberate, carrying the weight of years of pain and regret. "It all began with a war," he started, his voice low, almost reverent. "Helen of Troy, they called her. The most beautiful woman in the world, stolen from her husband, Menelaus, by Paris of Troy."
You nodded, familiar with the tale. It was a story that had reached even the shores of your island, carried on the whispers of the waves.
"I was tasked to join the rescue," he continued, his gaze distant, as if he were seeing those events play out before him, the battles, the bloodshed. "I sailed with six hundred men, my loyal soldiers to reclaim her and bring her back to Menelaus. We stormed the beaches of Troy, built walls of bodies and dreams, all for the sake of one woman."
He paused, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words. "We fought for ten years," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "Ten long years of death, of suffering, of lossâŠ" You could see the pain, the regret, etched into every line of his face. "And when we finally breached the walls, when we finally stood victorious, I thought⊠I thought that would be the end of it. I thought I could go homeâŠ"
He laughed then, a bitter, hollow sound. "âŠbut the Gods had other plans."
You watched him, your heart aching with a sympathy you couldn't quite explain, couldn't quite contain. "What happened?"
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to his hands, his fingers twisting together as if he were trying to hold onto something slipping through his grasp. "We set sail for home, but the winds were against us. We were thrown off course, tossed from island to island, each one more cursed than the last." He swallowed, the sound thick and heavy in the stillness. "I made⊠unsavory decisions, angered those who should not be angered," he admitted, his voice cracking just slightly, the words dragged from some dark place deep within him. "I sacrificed my honor, everything, all for the sake of returning to Ithaca."
You listened in silence as he recounted his tale, the trials and tribulations that had followedâthe blinding of the Cyclops, the enchantment of Circe, the deadly song of the Sirens. Each word, each memory, seemed to take a piece of him, leaving him more worn, more broken.
"I lost good men. Friends. BrothersâŠ" he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of his grief. "I lost them all... Every single one of themâŠ"
You were silent for a long moment, studying the way his shoulders were hunched, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, the way his eyes shone with a pain you could almost feel. He was a man broken by war, by loss, by the endless trials the gods had thrown at him.
A man who had forgotten how to be anything but what the world demanded of him.
And here he was, baring his soul to you, offering up his truth like a fragile, precious thing. You would have gave your sorrows, but from what you've known of him, it wouldn't do any good.
A sigh escaped your lips, soft and resigned, as you turned your gaze back to the sea, the waves rolling in gentle, rhythmic swells, the last of the light fading into the deep, dark blue of the coming night. "Odysseus of Ithaca," you murmured, the name tasting strange on your tongue, heavy with the weight of all that it carried. "You're not the first to wash up on my shores, lost and broken," you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the horizon, your voice carrying a sadness that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the endless, unchanging cycle of your existence. "And you won't be the last."
He looked at you then, really looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, the curve of your shoulders, the way the firelight played across your skin.
You could feel his gaze like a physical thing, warm and searching, and for a moment, you almost believed that he could see you, not as the myth, the story, the cursed daughter of Atlas, but as something more, something real.
But you knew better.
"You're right not to trust me, Odysseus," you continued, your voice steady, calm. "I'm bound by my curse, just as you're bound by your fate. We're both prisoners here, in our own way."
He opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but you shook your head, a small, sad smile playing at the corners of your lips. "You don't owe me anything," you said softly, your eyes meeting his, holding his gaze with a quiet intensity. "But thank you, for your honesty. For your truth."
He stared at you, his eyes dark and unreadable, the silence between you heavy with the weight of all that remained unspoken. And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours, the warmth of his skin a tantalizing whisper against your own.
For a moment, you thought he might take your hand, might bridge the distance between you.
But then he hesitated, his fingers curling into a fist, and he drew back, the moment slipping away like sand through your fingers.
You looked away, your heart aching with a familiar, bittersweet pain, your eyes drifting back to the sea, to the endless, unchanging horizon.
And so you sat there, side by side, two souls bound by the whims of the Gods, watching as the last light faded from the sky, as the stars began to bloom overhead, bright and cold and distant.
Together, yet worlds apart.
A/N: ahhh! not me falling in love with this lil one-shot. anywho, had to cut this in half cuz it was getting ridonculusly long... prt 2 shall be here soon tho, also, would you guys be cool if i added smut to it or nah? cuz i feel like the smut between these two will be so angsty cuz deep down odysseus ass still loves penelope, so calypso!reader is really just getting used, ma babieee đđ
SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. Iâm pretty sure you know the rest."
AO3: yenwayne : CHARACTER ART OF MORGAN AND SPIDEY
'what's up danger?"
i. cat's out of the web
ii. spidey going solo
iii. a leap of faith
iv. sexiest vigilante
v. @ nightcrawler_updates
vi. the hunt
vii. crashout
viii. a little death (w mild smut)
Fix me up, lover boy // short fics // they like you and they help fix your appearance // elzer, zhongli, diluc, ayato
Blood Week // HCs // multiple // them on your period
Less than Lovers // mature fic // thoma, diluc // you're more than friends but less than lovers
You were the enemy all along // short // multiple // how they react to you betraying them
I wanna ruin our friendship // mature fic // diluc, kaeya, zhongli, xiao // a little burst of courage is all you need
Outburst // HCs // multiple // when elements reasonate with their emotions
Dragonspine (Playable AU) // fic // diluc + kaeya + klee // your player logs out, leaving the team in dragonspine
D I L U C .
Loyalties 01 // 02 // 03 // mature mini series // you're his lover but he found out you're a fatui spy distributing delusions, now you're chained to his basement (ft. Kaeya) // read more in series m.list
Family Agenda 00 // 01 // 02 // 03 // 04 // 05 // concept series // having more than 8 kids with him // read more in series m.list
Sly Villain 01 // 02 // brainrot+fic // rewrite // you're a harbinger with an obsession
"Hands off! I'm taken!" // fluff fic // in which he gets drunk and you pick him up
Little Star // SAGAU fic // the creator doesn't want diluc, everyone knows this (everyone is wrong)
The painterâs muse // soft fic // where reader comes from a family of painters for the ragnvindr family
Suddenly // mature horror-mystery fic // he's trying to find you (he might be too late)
I love you in every universe // playable reader drabble // diluc never notices you, until your player co-ops with a diluc main
physiologically reactive // brainrot // dendro MC burns every time diluc touches
End game // short // Mondstadt is in ruins but he loves you
diluc gets a new skin // drabble // playable reader
warning: very mild cursing, angsty, mild violence, sfw, witchcraft
category: long-term fic, slow burn, friends to lovers, reader-insert
a/n: this is the rewritten version of young god! my original masterlist is still up, and you can read ahead to those chapters while you wait for these chapters. Please note that I will one day, eventually, take those chapters down and repost them with edits that make sense to the newly edited version.
a series of scenarios that follow a child of hecate reader and her life throughout the percy jackson and olympian series and the heroes of olympus series. all the scenarios boil down to one big quest that will change her life forever.
I: đŁđżđŒđčđŒđŽđđČ
†âSomeone is either having twins or is going to die." alternatively: the twins have arrived
II: đđ'đ đ§đ¶đșđČ
†âI know youâre scared. I am, too, but theyâre growing and getting strong. Itâs time.â alternatively: vincent realizes it's time
III. đđżđŒđđ¶đ»đŽ đŁđźđ¶đ»đ
†"What do we do now?" alternatively, you have a little detour on their way to camp
IV: đđżđČđđ” đ đČđźđ
†"I knew it." alternatively, you and your brother get claimed.
my lobby:Â everything you need is there; masterlists, ask box, wip list, you name it updated: mar 11, 2023
he's never gonna give you up never gonna let you down never gonna let you down never gonna run around and desert you never gonna make you cry never gonna say goodbye never gonna tell a lie and hurt you~
I notice alot of my followers on here skipping these posts just to mess with my lgbt ones, suspiciously the white popular ones.
Heres a not so friendly reminder, as an lgbt metis person, i dont give a single fuck what your blog is themed or if this is too painful for you to look at. Reblog this post. Reblog this post with the sources of the 751 children who were found.
Your compliance and silence as well as the compliance and silence of your ancestors is what allowed these schools to open and kill first nations children. The children of MY people.
Dont follow me if you cant reblog this post or the one with sources to your political blog or your most popular blog. Add trigger warnings if you must but if your political blog is only focused on the harms you personally face like being lgbt then you need to see some bigger pictures and stop being afraid of angering your racist mutural or actually saying some shit about racism. If you can reblog some antifa graphics or add blm to your bio to be a surface level ally, you can reblog some sources on the genocide first nations people faced and still face today.
Iâd like to add this photo I took last night in Victoria of the statue of Captain Cook. Though I myself am not indigenous, I 100% agree that these murderers, kidnappers and rapists shouldnât have huge statues and plaques that decorate them and say how âgreatâ they were.
Hereâs another photo of the legislative assembly from yesterday. Later on there were more items, candles and signs at the memorial, as well as a big poster with 1505 painted on it but I didnât get a picture
People need to see this. Not just quickly glance at the photos and keep on scrolling. They need to see this.
I had seen the first picture of the church, but not the second.
I went to a âCancel Canada Dayâ event and burst into tears - not because I was surprised to learn of the unmarked graves (survivors told us they were there. Our government pushed it aside, and we let them), but because seeing all the people gathered in mourning drove it home: They. Were. Children.
This is my countryâs legacy - and itâs not history. The last schools closed during my lifetime. My Father went to school with students who lived at the local residential school, after it was changed to a boarding house (read: holding centre) for indigenous youth who went to local schools.
They were all children, injured, abused, and killed in my countryâs attempt to erase them. I want the world to see this and hold the state accountable to *active* reconciliation> I mean we could at least truly adopt UNDRIP in action instead of words for godâs sake.
