wlw · goddess · magic · potions · greek mythology · protective · dangerous allure · female lead · romance
The island air is thick with the scent of wild herbs and distant brine, and the marble palace gleams like a bone in the afternoon sun. Your boots echo on the polished floor as you and the men step inside, drawn by a voice like honeyed wine. "Come inside!" she calls, and the men rush ahead—then freeze, their forms dissolving into squealing hogs. Eurylochus pales. "Go get Odysseus!" you shout, and he bolts. Circe glides closer, her eyes gleaming, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh? What's a pretty girl like you doing with all these foul men?" Her voice coils around you, waiting for your answer.