#may Athena watch over you all

[wormisauce]

Do you think Athena cried when Odysseus died

Or do you think she saw her oldest friend pass in his sleep, like he deserved, resting peacefully with the love of his life beside him, and let out a sigh of relief

Do you think she stood beside Telemachus as he discovered his parents in their marriage bed, curled into each other with soft smiles on their faces, and rested a hand on his shoulder offered her presence as comfort because what do you say to a child who just lost his parents. He may be an adult now, but here and now, he is but a boy saying goodbye to his family

Do you think she was there when both Odysseus and Penelope crossed the River Styx hand in hand.

Do you think she appeared to Telemachus and gave a single stoic nod. Do you think she sat with him as he sobbed, knowing his parents were eternally peaceful, that they didn't deserve anything less, and would never ask for anything more

Do you think she watched over Telemachus because Odysseus asked her or because she owed it to all of them

[sunflowerdigs]

Writers generally write plots in order to take a character from point a to point b. For instance, for Buck's bisexual discovery episode, rather than thinking "I'm going to have Buck meet this hot pilot and see what happens", Tim probably thought "I want Buck to come out as bisexual. How do I believably do that?"

People keep saying that if 911 is going to move forward, it needs to start bringing on new blood and integrating it into the cast. Well, this season, Ravi has been spotlighted multiple times. But in order to bring on someone new, someone else has to leave or fall back a bit. Technically, Tim could move one of the younger characters to another shift, but I doubt any of the younger actors want their screentime cut. However, Peter has stated that he's not into doing all the stunts anymore (and he looked super miserable shivering under a towel shooting the cruise line story) and that he might want to spend less time shooting generally. After all, he's getting a nice, fat producer cut now. He could probably shoot part-time and still make the kind of money he wants, and that would free up some budget for another character.

Additionally, unlike all of the other characters, Bobby has options that would keep him within the world of the firefam and would give 911 the opportunity to explore new parts of the first responder world. He is senior enough to run or be nominated for a senior position in LAFD, one that operates more behind the scenes, structuring budgets, communicating with news outlets, creating trainings, etc. That's a whole new world for the show. It keeps Bobby in the mix enough that we could occassionally see him show up at the firehouse for dinner, but creates a much less demanding shooting schedule for Peter.

But Bobby would never go for that. He would have to retire and then get bored. So, the question becomes "How do we take Bobby from gung-ho fire captain to someone who voluntarily gives up his post?" After all, s7 ended with him finding new energy for the job. A near-death experience like the one with the car pile-up wouldn't cut it. Because Bobby has faced those multiple times over the course of the series and hasn't considered giving up. It just wouldn't be believable to the audience and wouldn't be dramatic enough to cause the kind of shake-up that Tim wants to do. So, what would be?

Well. What if Bobby and everyone Bobby loves had to think he was dead for multiple days? What if the audience had to think that? What if viewers and the firefam had to watch Athena and her children (including Clifford) grieve him? If Bobby came back after something like that, absolutely, both the audience and the firefam would buy his wanting to finally retire. Especially if you throw a dream house into the mix? And Bobby suddenly desperately wanting to live as he's dying? Folks may end up messaging Tim on Facebook demanding that Bobby retire RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

So. That's just some food for thought as to why Tim might do a death and resurrection. Additionally, whenever any character has a drawn out near-death experience it gives the writers permission to make big character shifts very quickly as characters process their grief. Characters are allowed to look at their lives, realize tomorrow is not promised, and choose things they may not have before the death. Those changes are even more believable if the audience has to mourn the character who almost dies with the characters experiencing a shift. So. You know. If, say, the show was going to have a character, I don't know, recontextualize his relationship with his best male friend and realize that choosing him would be choosing joy? Or if another character who had never stood up for a leadership position before were to suddenly want to do that? A major death that the audience felt alongside those characters might ease those transitions.

Think about it.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Oh, look, I had to stop writing porn so I could get some 815 feelings out. I got those feelings out the best way I know how: via Tommy Kinard. Here's 1700 words of feelings and sad about how Tommy's dealing (he's not, neither is anyone else, except for maybe Sal?). There's hints of Buck/Tommy because of course there is.

There’s so much leftover food that no one at the 118 will go hungry for weeks. Every single person showed up to the wake with a platter or a dish or a pie tin or something and all the sympathy in the world. Instead of eating, Tommy’s been running after Evan and Athena all day, holding things and handing them tissues and handkerchiefs and water. His shoulder still aches from carrying the casket, he tries to ignore it.

When Sal shows up, his eyes are swollen and red, and all he can do is set down a casserole dish amongst a sea of others, grab Tommy, and cry for a long time. He holds Tommy’s face after, pats it gently with one meaty paw, and kisses him on each cheek. It’s the most aggressively Italian gesture Tommy’s been on the receiving end of since his Nonno passed. It very nearly makes him smile.

“I’m so sorry, Tom,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Tommy nods and squeezes Sal’s arm, unable to actually speak for a moment. When he looks over, Evan is watching the exchange with a blank expression.

“Hey,” Tommy says, looking at Sal. “You want to see his family?”

Sal nods and walks with Tommy, keeping an arm around his shoulder all the way to Athena, May, Harry, Michael, David, and Evan.

“Sarge,” Sal says, letting go of Tommy to grasp Athena’s hands. “I don’t know if you remember—”

“Maurice,” she says, a small smile on her face, and he cracks a smile, nodding. “How the hell am I ever gonna forget something like that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, his expression screwing up just the slightest amount as tears roll down his cheeks. “I am so sorry. He was—he was one of the best men I ever knew. I know you’ve probably been hearing it all day, but I just thought it should be said again. He changed my whole life. I’m a captain now—a good one—because of him.”

“Thank you,” she says, sounding like she means it as she’s squeezing his hands. “You know something? That’s the day I met him.”

Sal gives her a wobbly smile. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she says, looking over at Tommy. “Both of you were there to see it. Look at you now. A captain and a chopper thief.”

“Not my actual job title,” Tommy jokes weakly, and she grins for just a brief, beautiful moment. It slices through him like a knife. “Whatever happened to Maurice?”

“Went to a farm in the valley,” she says, shrugging. “Never heard about him after that. That’s usually a good thing in my line of work. Thank you for coming. Really, it—it’s good to remember that day. Didn’t seem so important at the time, but—”

She cuts herself off, and May and Harry’s arms come around her from either side, already well-practiced at comforting her when the tears come again. Her lips press together, her eyes glittering with tears, and all she can do is nod.

“Nah, you could feel it. The second he handed that damn bird over,” Sal says, bringing her hands up to kiss the backs of them before he releases them. “You ever need anything from the 122, you call. Any day, any time, any shift. If I’m not there, tell them Captain Deluca said to give you whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” she says, and he shakes everyone else’s hands with soft murmured condolences.

When he gets to Evan, he pulls him into a hug and slaps his back.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says before pulling back and giving Evan the same treatment he’d given Tommy, kisses and all. When he steps back, Evan looks a bit surprised.

Evan had seemed to like Sal the few times they’d all hung out, even though he didn’t understand most of his references and clearly thought he was kind of a dick. They’d bonded over being from Pennsylvania and shared recipes like old ladies. They’d never been family, but loss does crazy things for relationships. Tommy hopes it sticks. Sal’s a good guy to have in your corner, and everyone can stand to have more Evan in their lives.

“Same goes for you,” Sal says softly. “The brass tries yanking you and yours around, you come to me. I’ll deal with ‘em.”

“Thanks,” Evan says, his voice a soft rasp. “Sounds kinda like you’ll kill them, though.”

“Eh, depends on the day,” Sal jokes, squeezing the back of his neck and shaking him gently like they’re fucking Scorsese characters. “I’m serious. Get my number from Tommy. Day or night, you call me.”

Evan nods with a tight, watery smile. “Okay.”

Sal finally lets him go and turns to say something to Tommy, but he looks over his shoulder instead. “‘Scuse me.”

He brushes past, and Tommy watches as he approaches Chimney, Maddie, and Jee. Chimney looks surprised for a moment before he yanks Sal into a hug. When he looks back at Evan, Evan’s watching him.

“You want to know something funny?” Evan asks, finally sounding quiet because it’s private and not because he’s barely been able to talk above a whisper all day.

“Hm?” Tommy asks, stepping closer.

“Thought he was competition,” Evan says, nodding toward Sal.

Tommy smiles, just a little. “Nah. He’s basically my brother.”

“Yeah,” Evan says with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

It’s something they’ve been avoiding, even though Tommy has used all of his mandatory leave following Evan like a lost puppy and asking how he can help. But it’s pretty effective, as far as points go.

“Ah,” Tommy realizes, and Evan nods, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Do you need anything? Water?”

Evan shakes his head. “Just be here.”

Tommy can do that. He stands next to Evan and nods to every new person that comes up, quietly thanking them for their condolences. He settles back into feeling like a zombie, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Evan as he does the same.

They’ve had their moments. Evan has cried here and there. He broke every plate in his house one day. Tommy’s nursing a broken toe and a few bruised knuckles from overdoing it with his punching bag the day Evan had found him in a heap on his mats while he stared at the medal hanging in its shadow box on the wall of his garage.

Everything starts to blur, even the people he knows. They’re the last to leave outside the Grant family, laden with dishes of food. Harry and May had crawled onto the bed with Athena after she went and laid down still dressed in her clothes. Tommy had taken her shoes off while Evan settled a glass of water on the nightstand, and they’d told her they’d be back the next day to clean.

“Thanks, boys,” she’d said, sounding brittle for the first time all day. From their places on either side of her, the kids thanked them, and they’d left.

They sit in Tommy’s driveway for a while, since it’s closer to the condo. Eddie and Chris are staying at Evan’s place, and he waits for Evan to text Eddie to not wait up. Then they just sort of stare out the windshield for a long time.

“Okay,” Tommy says eventually, sighing. “Let’s go.”

They heave themselves out, grab everything from the back of the truck cab that they need, and shuffle inside. Tommy watches Evan rearrange the fridge, knowing better than to deter him after getting snapped at. He lifts the lid on one of the containers and sees that it’s some kind of cake with chocolate frosting. Mechanically, he cuts a small square and heaps it onto a plate before poking a fork into it.

It’s some kind of Boston creme-adjacent cake. He chews slowly, the sugar turning sickly sweet in his mouth, but he keeps chewing.

“How is it?” Evan asks.

“How’s that cake taste, Tommy?”

The plate falls from his fingers, shattering on the floor, and Tommy’s frozen in his kitchen, his hands raised like he’s still got a plate and fork in his hands. His vision blurs for a long moment, and he thinks he might pass out, but it’s just tears. It’s just more tears for a man who made him feel like he was part of a family for the first time since he was a kid, who’d remembered everything about him when they reconnected years later over a capsized ship, who’d told him out of the blue that he was proud of him for settling into his own skin.

“How’s that cake taste, Tommy?”

The sugar’s turning to glue in his mouth, and he turns and blindly spits into his sink, resting his forearms on the edge and screaming.

Arms go around him, and he tries to fight them for a second, but Evan’s voice is in his ear, drowning out the echo that’s shot through time to wrap around his heart and try its best to strangle it.

Bobby’s dead, Bobby’s dead, Bobby died.

“I ca—” he gasps, feeling like he can’t breathe.

“I know, I know,” Evan says, hauling him up and turning him around until Evan can hug him. “With me.”

Evan’s breaths are big and exaggerated, pressing against Tommy’s sternum from the outside as a guide so he’ll stop trying to gulp in air. When Tommy pushes air through pursed lips and breathes in deep after, he feels like his head’s being squeezed. Then there’s something at his nose—one of the tissues from the packet he’d given Evan for his pocket—and he takes it, blowing his nose and meeting wide, wet eyes.

“You lost him, too,” Evan says, and Tommy shakes his head, his breath hitching.

But it’s not—he’s not. He’s not Bobby’s son. Evan shouldn’t be saying this to him.

“‘Tommy’s good people,’” Evan says, sniffling. “That’s what he said when I told him about us. ‘He’s good for you.’ H-he cared about you, he liked you. You—you lost him, too. And I am so sorry. You’ve been taking care of me so I can take care of everyone else. He s-said I’d be okay. I’m not. I don’t think ‘m ev-ever gonna be okay again.”

Tommy nods, biting on the small piece of skin behind his lip that he’s worried bloody more than once recently. “I know.”

“But this,” he says, gesturing between them. “It helps. You’re helping. You’re good people. And he knew it. Okay?”

He nods again and feels more tears roll down his cheeks and more snot flow from his nose, and he pulls Evan into a hug, exhaling the tension from his shoulders and feeling Evan slump against him. They’re holding each other up. It’s a load-bearing embrace for both of them.

“What happened?” Evan asks, and Tommy bites back a sob.

“The c-cake,” he admits, his voice broken and hitching. “Wh-when I transferred—was just s-something he s-said.”

Evan rubs his back. “You want a salad instead?”

It startles a laugh out of Tommy, and he squeezes Evan, grateful that he can take it, even more grateful when Evan squeezes back with equal intensity.

“Maybe later,” he says, burying his face in his shoulder. “I should get a broom.”

“In a minute,” Evan says, his voice slightly muffled against Tommy’s neck. “I need this.”

Tommy swallows, the knot in his throat easing a little. “Me, too.”

“Okay.”

He sighs. “Okay.”

[mimiyapshard]

Warrior Penelope stuff cause I've been listening to too many EPIC genderbent covers, and I wanted to give my take on it (also cuz I kinda want to draw it one day)

- Ares as Penelope's patron, absolutely! But Ares didn't have a huge cult in Sparta, although he wasn't hated. So my lore take version thing is that ATHENA wanted to be Penelope's patron (she had already an eye on Ody kinda) but Ares saw his chance, got to it first and became attached to Penelope without wanting to admit it, also because she saw the good and useful in him. Athena still watches over Penelope (especially after her and Ares platonically break up, which she finds really stupid) and is the one who does her best to protect Ithaca while she's gone. She's by Ody's side while he misses his wife and is mostly the reason why the Suitors hadn't taken over yet.

- To get Ares to realize his mistake, Athena tricks him into helping Telemachus defeat Antinous in Little Wolf because free bloodshed, only to end up sensitized by Telemachus because holy shit, my friend's son is here almost dying to this ASSHOLE who thinks he's so much stronger than MY friend the queen and even me like who tf does he think he is. Athena makes Ares fucking rational for once. And maybe even Aphrodite, as well, gets some damn sense in his mind like "they love each other like you and I and my girl is doing her best to get home you're going to apologize rn"

- ctimene holds a claymore double her height with no problems

- penelope is more "cold ruthless" than Odysseus, in a way that she's still poised (until the end or when she's really brought to her knees which is disturbing) while doing merciless stuff. She's emotionless a lot more (just on the surface)

- Ares was the one to give Penelope the idea of going to war instead of Odysseus, for obvious reasons. And Pen is really a mastermind among the Greeks ofc

- Ares and Pen fought in their My Goodbye version because she "held back her power while her friends got devoured" "she didn't even fight Polyphemus, didn't even TRY to kill him" "hid behind her wits to get things done". Because when fighting Polyphemus, she knew that if she tried to kill Polyphemus while he was asleep, they'd be stuck in that cave forever (like in the real Odyssey). And knew that fighting while her friends got killed would slow them down and probably get more people dead. And when they ran away, she didn't go back to kill the Cyclops even if she could've because of yes, mercy, but also because she would've awakened all the other Cyclops and sailing away was faster, better. Ares deemed this cowardice. Crazy thing, since one of the most important things to him is courage.

- Ares overstimates Penelope's power. Like, yes, she's exceptional, but still HUMAN. With her limits. He hasn't dealt with a human personally in years so he doesn't understand this, so his expectations are ridiculously high, which ends up breaking Penelope.

- During 600 strike, Penelope can actually breathe underwater and not hold her breath for such a long time and be fine because she's half naiad (yes, they are fresh water nymphs but still). Also this may make her even stronger around water (to a certain degree, she's still very mortal)

- calypso is pansexual

this is already a lot, ill add more when i think about it lol (also if i realize any of these ideas don't make sense)(check reblogs for more)

[dadvans]

naive melody redux. [bucktommy]

“Your hands are shaking,” Evan says.

Tommy looks down. It’s the slightest tremor. He has no fucking clue how Evan noticed, eyes half swollen shut from crying, tears still flowing freely, mixing with snot every fruitless time he wipes at his face.

“Yeah.” He gulps, swallows. Looks back up at Evan. “I—“

And that’s where the words stop.

Evan nods and folds in on himself again.

The thing is: Tommy is sad, devastated even. Bobby had been the first person in a long time to come along and find that one last fire burning inside him and coax it back to life. Bobby had believed in him, was the guy to give him the chance he’d needed to live the kind of life he never believed he deserved on his own. But he’s long burned out his ability to cry from grief. He hasn’t done that in a long time. Cried when he’s angry? Sure. Cried at Pixar movies? Absolutely, and fuck all the way off if you ask him to watch a movie where the dog dies, because that’s an embarrassingly sure thing. But he doesn’t cry in a meaningful way, ever.

But Tommy looks at Evan and he’s fucking terrified. So, his hands are shaking.

“When they clear us,” he tries again, voice steadier than the rest of him, “let me take you home.”

“Tommy, I, I really don’t think—“ Evan’s voice is gummy, throat thick, and it almost sounds like he wants to laugh or desperately pick a fight that’s already left him. Fair.

“For my peace of mind, please,” Tommy continues, every bit as desperate as he feels, before trying to reel it back in, soft and neutral. “I don’t even have to be there in any real way, I won’t say a word, I’ll sleep on your”—shitty fucking, he does not say—“couch, just. I need to know you made it through the night.”

Evan sniffs and tries to hide another sluggish run of tears by tucking his face into the crook of his arm.

“Maddie’s going to be with Howie in the hospital. Athena—she’s going to be the last one out, and then she has the ugly business no one ever wants to deal with when the person they love the most dies. Maybe you’d rather stay with Hen and Karen, their family, or Ravi. That’s fine. But, Evan. I can’t let you be alone.”

Evan exhales ragged and wet, raw with grief in a way Tommy has been jealous of in the past, because in every other time that mattered, it would have meant Evan seeing all of him. Could have made the difference, maybe, Evan knowing the ugly parts of him early enough. It’s a thought he doesn’t have now, will realize never had broken the thick, in-the-moment surface fear, later.

“Okay,” Evan says, and Tommy feels a part of him steady. “You’re right. Okay.”

x

Getting back to Evan’s is a hassle and a half, between an impounded truck and a stolen helicopter. Tommy lets Evan sign for his keys and pay for the release, but drives them back to Eddie’s old house.

Someone should call Eddie, he thinks, suddenly. He may still have irrational thoughts about Eddie having some purchase on Evan, but he would trust Eddie with Evan’s grief. He knows Eddie has the kind of strength that could keep Evan safe, were Eddie here. That they would have each other, might prefer it even.

He parks in the driveway. The drive was silent, just the sound of the early morning cross-sections of highways and roads in the uneasy, liminal hour where Los Angeles isn’t quite awake but still not quite asleep. He steadies his grip on the lower curve of the steering wheel and concentrates on the leather, parked waiting for Evan to move, say anything, even.

“I don’t know what to do,” Evan says, finally.

“Okay.”

“If you weren’t here— I don’t know what I would do.”

Oh. “Then I’m glad I’m here.”

Evan gets out of the truck. Tommy waits two beats, then joins him. Follows him to the door and hands over the keys so Evan can let them both inside.

Evan flips on the lights in a way he was too careless, too out of his mind—and Tommy stops that train of thought—to do, the last time they both stumbled into this house. The place is a little more put together, a lot more unpacked, but still wanting in the way nothing is fully put away and there are broken down boxes stacked against walls, painters tape half-rolled to line the trim of two walls in anticipation of a fresh coat before being half-heartedly forgotten, the entire roll still attached and laying on the floor with a little dust on top. Tommy does not think of all the other versions of them being here together again, the teasing things he would say to make Evan smile, what he would comment on first in an attempt to make Evan feel known, seen, unconsciously and openly loved.

“You should shower,” he says instead.

“I’m so tired,” Evan replies, just standing there.

The thing is: Evan doesn’t look aimless. He looks like he’s resisting certain directions. I can’t let you be alone, Tommy had said. I don’t know what I would do, Evan had said, and Tommy feels haunted by both.

“Shower, I promise,” Tommy says, trying to navigate them both around it. He guides Evan by the shoulders to where he remembers the bathroom is, both from the times he spent here with Eddie and the last, late night he’d had with Evan, where he’d half-drunk and smugly rolled a condom off his dick in the dark and threw it in the trash and took the longest, happiest piss of his life thinking about the guy threatening him with “round two” ten feet away on a bare mattress.

Evan likes his showers hot, Tommy remembers. Tommy does not. But, he remembers, the rare moments where he has. Those moments overseas in the ugly beginning of the millennium when he first learned how to lose people, the showers when he was deployed were always either boiling hot or ice cold with zero in-between, and he treasured the way both convinced him he could skin himself raw.

He gets Evan in the shower, extra hot. Evan says nothing of the temperature, just stands underneath it like it will bleach him clean, and Tommy hopes Evan never gets to the point where he lets it. He climbs in after. They’re both naked, obviously, and really need the wash, but Tommy can’t think of even a terrible one-night stand with a mutual shower so sexless. He scrubs Evan down thoroughly, then himself. He rinses a washcloth under the spray and then uses it to wipe at Evan’s face, the way his mom used to when he was little, sweeping, clinical motions, right-to-left, left-to-right, Mr. Miyagi wax-on, wax-off style. Right hand sweeping under Evan’s raw nose, left hand pushing back Evan’s wet curls, fingers tracing down the midline of his skull just to make sure he’s still real and alive.

Tommy’s fine with just swapping places for a quick rinse of his own as long as he gets to borrow Evan’s deodorant. He sweeps Evan up in a fresh towel that was thankfully folded away into the built-in shelf after.

“I know you hate going to sleep with wet hair,” he says, a little helpless, brushing down Evan’s shoulder blades with the thing while he, himself, drips an obnoxious amount on the designer bathmat he used to make fun of back when Evan lived at the loft.

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Evan replies. Sleep means you wake up to a new day, the first day when someone is dead the way they weren't the day before, Tommy remembers. He doesn't say anything, works the towel around to Evan's chest, hears his own knees crack crouching to get at Evan’s thighs and calves in a way that doesn’t feel sexual, only too aware of how Evan's always complained when he's soaked through sweats, jeans, blankets—anything, really, that gets damp when he’s too impatient coming out of the shower. “I don’t think I can.”

“That’s okay, too. You want to put on a movie? TV show, podcast? You can relax on your”—awful, nightmare—“couch, too.”

Tommy stands back up, towel with him, wrapping around Evan’s shoulders and sweeping down the meat of his biceps.

“It doesn’t feel like it now, because I know from experience, uh, nothing feels possible in times like these,” he tries, determinedly not staring Evan in the face.

Nearly a year ago Evan had been so wrecked by Bobby’s heart attack, called him the dad I never had. Had let Tommy fuck him for the first time, slow and intimate in a way that had previously sent Tommy running for the hills with other guys, but Evan had said, please, I just need to feel something, something good, and Tommy had wanted to be so badly something good for him. Still does, most days.

His hands shake on Evan's shoulders now, but he keeps talking, says, “But you’re going to crash the second something gives. Put on something clean. Get comfy. Your back will thank you.”

Buck stares up at him, just the slightest amount. Sea-blue eyes, deceptively deep, red-rimmed in a way that makes Tommy’s own hurt.

“Could you hold me? Just my weight, even, it doesn’t have to be— you were right, I’m worried the second I’m left to my own devices, I’ll split into a thousand pieces, whatever that means,” he admits, and then does the unthinkable thing, leaning face first with his forehead resting against Tommy’s wet clavicle, his mouth breathing weak and hitched against Tommy’s chest.

“Of course,” Tommy says. In any way. In every way. Whatever you need. As long as you want.

+ Addtl thoughts:

Before I go crazy and disappear back into the adulthood ether! Was thinking thoughts of Tommy enjoying something as a kid, maybe he had a soft caramel once that he snuck and no one was around, and he was able to savor it, he let it sit in his mouth for a long time and let it melt thick and sweet on his tongue, like a little secret he had with himself. And that's how he thinks of taking care of Buck when they're together, he makes avocado toast, he makes brunch, he LOVES taking care of Buck, it's this self-indulgent stupid thing he does for himself, allowing himself to DOTE and to CARE and to be vulnerable in this way that might come across as maternal that he's prevented himself as acting on for so long. He wants to love Buck so badly! But he also wants to love Buck via AFFECTION, wants to SHOW Buck he's loved, and that's so compatible with meeting Buck's needs of feeling like he's never enough, he's been told plenty of times that he's loved, worthy of love, but he's not important enough to care about or see that love realized.

Think about the one person Buck has ever felt has truly loved him, cared for him, despite everything, the father he's never had, dying and telling him he loved him, then telling him to leave. Buck is always left, in the end, being told he is worthy of love, but is never enough for anyone to stay.

Think about Tommy wanting to be enough for Buck, loving life with Buck so much that Buck realizes he wants to stay. Think about Tommy, for the first time, Buck feel like he's worth it.

[doctorruby]

"This is your grandad, Bobby," Buck coos at the small, wrapped up infant in his arms. The baby coos, wrapping a strong finger around his blanket and babbling.

"Bobby," Buck regards the headstone, "this is Henry."

Buck sniffles, holding Henry tighter to his chest.

"Henry Wade Buckley-Kinard. I told Tommy he's gonna have a hell of a time signing his name."

The graveyard is silent, save for the wind blowing easily through the dead leaves on the branches of the trees watching over Bobby's final resting place. Buck waits, letting enough time pass that a response could have been given.

If Billy Boils can haunt him from the afterlife, Buck likes to imagine Bobby sitting on the other side of the headstone, watching him with pride.

"Robert was already taken, obviously," Buck acknowledges that he would have named his child after this man. He wants Bobby to know that he truly considered it, that if Maddie and Chimney hadn't gotten there first, he would have. "I doubt Robby would want to share a first name with his cousin."

The wind rustles again. Buck smiles.

"I know, I know, I haven't visited in a while. In my defense, I've been busy. The, uh, surrogate- it was a close call for a second there. But we made it, didn't we, Henry?" Buck holds Henry's finger in his hand.

"I kept thinking- when it was pretty touch and go- what you would have said. Something inspirational probably. Something mature. But, God, I was a wreck. Piper, you remember our surrogate, got into a car crash on her way to the hospital. It was a really bad pile up. So baby Henry was delivered at midnight on the side of the highway by Hen. Chim told me that my kid wouldn't be delivered any other way."

The wind settles and quiet takes over the air. Buck sniffles.

"You were right, by the way. Tommy's good for me. He kept me from spiraling. I wish you could have been at the wedding, I know I told you all about it, but it's different having you there. Instead of an empty seat."

Henry starts kicking his legs in the air, letting out a cry, "Okay, big guy, come here." He puts him over his shoulder, patting his back.

"You should see Tommy right now. Got more gray hairs than you did." The joke lands hard on Buck's chest. But the wind kicks up again.

It's a cool Autumn day, Buck reminds himself, it's just windy out.

"Anyways," Buck runs through the list he typically has on these visits, "I'm sure Athena has told you all about May moving to France. Uh, Hen is still captain at the 118. Denny and Mara found a cat in their garbage can and are currently trying to convince Hen to take it in. She's totally gonna cave. Oh! Eddie's finally engaged! He finally popped the question after, like, a year of agonizing over it. I told him, if you don't ask, she will. Jee-Yun's getting so big now. She's in a phase where she wants to call everyone by their first name. So, Robby is the only one who calls me Uncle Buck anymore. Maddie says she's going through her rebellious, pre-teen phase. It reminds me of how Chris used to be, who, by the way, is doing great in college. I mean, he's changed his major about five times by now, but he'll figure it out. If I can settle down, so can he, right?"

The wind blows again, knocking up some of the leaves on the ground. Henry settles.

"Um, Henry's great." Buck sniffles again, feeling tears well up, "But, just between you and me, I feel like- God, I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing," tears pour out against his will, "Like I'm still that stupid 26 year old kid knocking around the firehouse. But now I have this-this tiny thing that relies on me. And a husband. God, if I could go back in time and tell Buck 1.0 that he would have a husband and a baby, he- well, he probably would have found the nearest hookup to drown out how that would have made him feel."

Gravel crunches underneath the tires of Tommy's truck. Buck turns and waves, "He said he went to move the truck but I think he just wanted to give me time alone with you. I don't know what I did to deserve all this," Buck looks to the neatly kept headstone. Athena comes by every week now and cleans it off, tending to the flowers growing around it, lighting candles on anniversaries. She used to come every day but he thinks the raging grief has settled into routine and domesticity.

Tommy slowly approaches, "Hey, baby," he greets the two of them, then turns, "Hi, Bobby."

Buck leans into Tommy's touch, resting his head against Tommy's chin. Tommy's arms come up and encircle the two of them. Henry babbles.

"Do you remember," Buck asks the gravestone, "when I asked you if you thought I was at peace?"

He feels Tommy grin. He mentioned this in his vows.

"I know the answer now."

Tommy kisses his head, then bends down to kiss Henry's.

"Ready?" Tommy asks, rubbing a hand up and down Buck's back. He felt no pressure to rush or leave, but he felt ready as he would ever be. Walking away from Bobby's presence was never easy.

"Yeah," Buck looks down at little Henry, "Alright, buddy, say goodbye to your grandpa." He waves Henry's hand at the grave, who babbles but looks generally pleased. His eyes catch on something in the air and he giggles, flopping his hands around a little more.

He follows his gaze and tries not to feel silly looking at the air, "I love you, Bobby. See you soon."

[ecstxsyy]

SCREW YOU | E. BUCKLEY ❦

Buck overhears a conversation he wishes he hadn’t, but it sparks an idea in his head.

based on this ask.

18+ mdni !

evan buckley x fem reader

warnings: smut, porn with plot, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink.

SORRY I MISSED DAY 1 GUYS I PROMISE I’LL DO TWO FICS IN ONE DAY TO MAKE UP FOR IT 😗

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EVAN BUCKLEY attained some information he wasn't quite sure he was happy he’d had learned, on the rig.

Hen was oversharing how she’d heard that May walked in on Bobby and Athena roleplaying in Bobby’s turnout gear. Everyone had expected Bobby to be the sexy firefighter, but shockingly it was Athena. This painted a picture in Buck’s head that he couldn’t erase of you all dressed up in his gear with nothing else.

The thought plagued his mind for weeks, every time he put on his turnout coat he imagined your naked body hidden away under the heavy material, your skin peeking through the unzipped zipper, his name plastered across your back. The thought practically made him drool.

Buck, stupidly enough, confided with Eddie about this fantasy. He didn't know what else to do, and Eddie, as his best friend, couldn't help but confide in you with this information.

The idea alone made you blush immediately, the thought of it sending a thrill through you. It wasn't something you’d thought about before but now the ideas ran wild through your head.

Fortunately enough, Valentine’s Day was coming up, and what better gift to give Buck than his own real-life wet dream?

You and Eddie had already been planning his surprise for a few days, Eddie was going to take Buck’s turnout coat home after their shift together the night of the 13th. You and Eddie both already knew that Buck had taken off for the 14th to spend the day with you, but, he had no idea of what truly was going to unfold that day.

The morning of Valentine’s Day, you woke with a smirk. You wanted to wait until later in the night to surprise him, but, you just couldn't wait.

You hopped up out of bed, ran to the closet, and dug Buck’s coat out of the back corner of your closet where you hid it the night before. You tried to be as silent as possible, tiptoeing to the bathroom to strip and change into the coat before Buck woke up.

You slipped off all of your clothes and slid the heavy jacket over your shoulders, you weren’t exactly sure how to make it feel sexy seeing as you felt like a child playing dress up, but you could make it work.

Once the coat was on you waited until you began to hear Buck stir in his sleep to open the door and creep over to your bedroom quietly. As you looked through the crack of the door, you saw Buck stand and stretch the sleep out of his muscles.

You waited for him to finish before slowly creeping into the room, watching his face change as his eyes raked up and down your body.

“Oh fuck,” Buck sighed, the blood rushing from his head to his dick in seconds, he swore it made him slightly light-headed. A million thoughts ran through his head at once, he truly could not believe the sight in front of him.

“Eddie told me about your little wet dream,” you teased, sliding the jacket down your shoulders so it hung around you even looser.

“Yeah and I’m definitely gonna kill him at work tomorrow, but for now, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” Buck mumbled as he got closer to you, pulling you into his body heat to press his lips against yours.

He kissed you fervently, your tongues clashing against each other. Buck felt like he was floating, the whole moment felt like a dream.

“So, I guess you like your gift?” You smiled as you pulled away from him.

“Oh, I love it, and I can't wait to enjoy it all day long,” Buck smirked, scooping you up so your legs wrapped around his waist.

He walked you over to the bed slowly, setting you down as he began to kiss you again. You couldn't get enough of him, if you’d known he’d go this crazy for this you would have done it a long time ago.

Buck kissed down your jaw before standing up to look at you in awe, taking in all the details. Your smooth skin looked so pretty, the rough material of the coat made your skin look like silk. He grabbed your leg, rubbing his hands up and down your calf and your legs practically spread on their own, revealing your bare cunt to him, glistening in the light with your wetness.

“All this for me? God, I must be the luckiest man alive, he sighed, kissing down the inside of your leg until he reached your thigh.

Buck licked a long stripe up the inside of your thigh, stopping once he reached your folds. You let out a whine, you wanted his head between your legs so bad.

“Fuck, baby, I’m sorry but I can’t wait to fuck you,” Buck mumbled, pulling down his sweats just enough to let his cock spring free. You couldn't complain, Buck fucked you in a way nobody else ever could.

Before he slid himself inside of you, he flipped you onto all fours, he wanted to see his name plastered across your back while he made you cum until you saw stars.

As his cock slid into you, you shuddered. He was so deep inside of you, hitting every nook and cranny that you didn't even know existed. Buck made you feel so full, his cock stuffing you.

“Oh my God, Buck,” You whined, pushing your hips back to fuck yourself on him. When Buck felt this he grabbed your hips, freezing them in place as he began to pound into you from behind. His sudden thrusts made you cry out in pleasure, your legs already trembling.

“Look at you, already a little mess for me,” Buck chuckled, smacking your ass a few times before grabbing a handful of each ass cheek, using your ass to help drag you back on his cock faster.

Your pussy practically wept for him, your arousal leaking out from around his cock. The sounds coming from between the two of you were crude, they even made Buck blush a bit. Your pussy squelched around him, your grip on the sheets making your knuckles turn a bony white color.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you cried out, your hand moving to rub your clit rapidly.

“Damn, baby, already?” Buck teased. He knew how fast he could make you cum, in fact, it was one of his proudest achievements. He teased you about it constantly.

You ignored his comment and hid your face in the sheets, taking his quick thrusts while you tried to hold off your orgasm for as long as you could. Little did you know, Buck was in the same boat. You in his gear did sinful things to his cock and his mind, his fantasies couldn't nearly compare to the real sight in front of him.

“Can’t wait to give you my last name, fill you up with all my babies,” Buck fantasized out loud, dreaming of the life ahead of the two of you. Those words alone sent you over the edge, your orgasms tearing through your trembling body.

Instead of slowing down, your orgasm made him pick up his pace. Buck plowed into you, his tip bullying your cervix making your vision go white. Before your first orgasm was over, a second one hit you like a train.

You didn't realize a coat would make Buck go this wild, your pussy begged for a break but you greedily wanted more.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna put my babies all inside of you,” Buck moaned, his hips starting to falter.

Before you could respond, Buck shot his load deep inside of you, fucking it into you to make sure it all stays inside. He fully intended to get you pregnant, he couldn't wait to watch your belly swell.

Buck pulled his cock out of you, spreading your folds to watch his cum leak out of you. He used his first two fingers to scoop up the thick fluid before pushing it back inside of you, fingering it all in.

“Look at this pretty pussy, so swollen and sensitive,” Buck teased, slapping your clit lightly to watch the way your body jolts away. You looked so fucked out, the only thing covering you while you lay on the bed being his turnout coat.

Buck grabbed the coat lightly, sliding it off of you and going to grab one of his LAFD shirts. He helped you redress into more of his clothes and laid you back down in the bed, cuddling up next to you.

“Marry me.” Buck blurted out, the words made your eyes bulge out, the saliva in your mouth getting trapped in your throat.

“What?”

“I said marry me,” Buck repeated, confirming that you aren't just crazy and hearing things. “I was gonna do this later and go all out, but, I can’t wait.”

Buck stood off the bed and reached into your bed side table, grabbing the small velvet box that sat inside the drawer. He then dropped down to get on one knee beside the bed.

“Will you marry me?” Buck asked, his smile beaming.

“Of course, Buck,” you giggled, pulling him into a kiss. Buck fully planned on consummating not only his marriage but his engagement as well, no matter how untraditional.

Maybe Buck didn't wanna kill Eddie so much after all.

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cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

[lilislegacy]

Hot take: The original Percy Jackson and the Olympians series is NOT fit for being a TV show. At all. But Heroes of Olympus is.

Why, you may ask? Because although PJO technically takes place over the course of few years, each individual PJO book takes place over a very short period of time—usually only a few days, maybe up to a week (with the exception of parts like Calypso’s island). Nearly all the scenes and events take place back-to-back. But with a TV show, you have to find places to break it up, and there’s a whole week between every single episode. So it’s basically taking us two months to watch an awkwardly fractured series of continuous events that actually take place over the course of a few days. It’s weird. It just feels off. Unless Rick decides to release all the episodes at once (which I don’t think he will), it’s just gonna feel weird asf no matter how much he tries to fix the pacing.

Heroes of Olympus, on the other hand, is MUCH BETTER for a TV show format. It takes place over the course of several months and has a bunch of little time jumps woven throughout. Plus, the characters are older and there are more mature themes, so it caters to older audiences a bit more too. (Don’t even get me started on how Rick is shooting himself in the foot by refusing to acknowledge that most of his fans are older teens and adults now.)

Now, you may be wondering, ‘aren’t the first couple of HOO books only over the course of like a week?’ Yes, which is why they should show the two at the same time. Don’t do one season for each—flash between the two! The first episode opens with the lost trio on the bus and is all about Jason getting to camp, and ends with them finding out some guy named Percy is missing. Then, the next episode opens with Percy barefoot, running in the forest with the wolves, and follows his journey to Camp Jupiter. For the rest of the season, the scenes constantly switch between their two POVs throughout each episode, showing their stories side by side. It would be clear that their timelines are different because it would be freezing winter for Jason’s scenes and summer in Percy’s. Then [input slow motion montage of the Argo II being built over the course of several months] the season finale is when their timelines finally meet up, and the Argo II arrives at Camp Jupiter—just like how Son of Neptune ends.

Then, Mark of Athena has its own season since that takes place over a few weeks. Most events take place on different days, and there’s no exact timeline for most of it. House of Hades and Blood of Olympus probably combine into one season. Percy and Annabeth were only in Tartarus for a few days, so maybe HoH makes up three or four episodes, and Blood of Olympus is five or six. These 3 books work for the same reason that shows like The Walking Dead work. The timeline isn’t always exact, but you know stuff is happening somewhat close together but also not on the same day or even the same week.

And with LONGER episodes. Give me hour long episodes, not freaking 33 minutes like season 1 PJO kept doing.

Anyway, that’s how I would do it. However, for many reasons, most of which I won’t get into, I don’t think there’s much hope for Heroes of Olympus even making it to the screen. But I hope I’m wrong.

[missglaskin]

Yan!HOTD Characters as Greek Gods

I want to thank @aphroditelovesu for giving me the inspiration, also side note do not take the gods canonical relationships literally

Viserys as Hades + God of the Underworld and the Dead

Viserys was a god who stood out from the gloomy darkness of his realm. The seat once shared by his beloved wife is now long dead with all the other souls. No temples were erected in his honor on the earthly soil, for the underworld served as his shrine. Still, Viserys lent many of his powers and crafts to help the other gods defeat their enemies, either it be a monster or a titan. When he needed to see his family, he would emerge to the earth itself. There a moral caught his eye. 

Viserys spent a great deal of time observing your everyday life. He enjoyed catching on to all your little habits and tendencies. The god was prepared to wait until your life's string came to an end. In the mean time, all good things came your way. While he wouldn't be able to stop your death from happening, he can certainly make it as peaceful and painless as possible. Viserys will welcome you with the greatest warmth when you arrive in his realm, and you will be surrounded by servants who will carry out your every wish.

Just as he has done all those other times Viserys will give you the time and space you need to adjust to this new, strange world. Desiring your happiness, Viserys might let you visit Earth but only for a short time. The god can't go too long without you by his side. He detests the idea of using coercion to get what he wants, but Viserys must make sure you never leave him. It is a blessing that you are a mortal, completely unaware of the pomegranate seeds that are given to you.

Daemon as Ares + God of War and Courage 

It was Daemon, out of all the gods, who was most frowned upon, the one with the endless list of foes. Many came to fear him and they had every reason to. For Daemon was a powerful god-quick to anger and raring for a fight regardless of the consequences. A jest spread among the gods was that Daemon's one and only true love was war itself. But what a shock it was to see the mortal in the god's arms. With his remarks and the severe violence he inflicted upon the mortals, Daemon, again and again demonstrated nothing but contempt and superiority over them.

Why you attracted the god of war's attention will forever remain a mystery. Could it be you had a fire inside of you that never went out or you had such a gentle soul that the god saw it as his duty to ruin you, or perhaps he saw you as a fair trade for one of his victories. Truthfully, Daemon himself is not fully sure what drew him to you. Still, the god comes to you, luring you in with lavish gifts and words sweet as honey. And if you aren’t compliant, the god sees no issue picking you up while you struggle to free yourself-screaming and clawing. 

Daemon has no care for what other Olympian deities thought when he kept you near him. They were already not fond of him and he was amused to no end to see their frustration, even having you displayed seated on his lap. Your life with Daemon is strangely not as dull and miserable as one might anticipate. He will always be rough and harsh, but you are shown a rare side of gentleness. You may never know if the god truly loves you, but you can be sure that if someone takes what he views as his, he will go to war a hundred times over it.

Rhaenyra as Athena + Goddess of Wisdom and War

Rhaenyra is a goddess with pride. A great warrior. Rhaenyra does not, however, hold humankind in such low regard as the many gods who came before her. She saw herself as their protector and rewarded those who came to worship in her temple. But it's not as if she isn't dangerous. The goddess is unmerciful in her use of curses. Any offense or insult will result in a terrible fate. And what fate bestows upon you when the goddess herself watches you. Desiring you from the very moment she caught sight of you. 

She is a master of disguise. Every word she spoke enticed you further and further into her grasp. There were the fleeting touches the goddess made to your skin to pique your desire. Her lips were painted with a smile that lowered your guard. You find yourself becoming a puppet as Rhaenyra hovers over you, pulling the strings to speak the words she wants you to hear, to touch her how she wants to be touched, and look at her how she wants to be gazed upon. 

Rhaenyra never wants you to leave her realm. The goddess is ready to gift you whatever your heart desires, but the earth is no longer a place you can call home. Rhaenyra will never lay a hand on you; gentle and soft with you. The only times you no longer see your lover but the goddess of war is if you are foolish enough to believe you can get away from her. She won’t understand. Has she not dedicated herself to you. Has she not given you every ounce of her heart. Whatever the reason is, your place remains by her side and she will make sure you know of this.

Rhaenys as Hecate + Goddess of Magic and the Moon

Rhaenys, the goddess of sorcery and the moon, who her domain also extends to creatures of the night; particularly hounds and ghosts. She’s often seen accompanied by her black hounds, donning a long robe, holding burning torches. Neither was she evil, nor was she wholly benevolent, but she did reveal her nature through actions, rewarding loyalty among her followers. Captivated by your presence in her temple, the goddess of sorcery was drawn to your compassion and innocence. She found herself spending more time just observing you, enchanted by how your features glowed in the gentle embrace of moonlight. 

Rhaenys has always been confident and assertive, when she’s certain that she desires you, she’ll do whatever it takes to have you by her side. However, she’ll stray away from using force. If she’ll seek your companionship, Rhaenys resolutes in waiting it be your choice, to love her the same rather than do it with instilling fear in you. Her introduction was gradual, allowing you to adapt in time to her presence. Much of this is involved in simple conversations, where she enjoys getting to know the little details of your life (even if she already knew most of it). 

Instead of overwhelming you with extravagant gifts, she opted for small trinkets. And adding to the ease of your connection, Rhaenys’s mystical hounds display a fondness for you, allowing you to pet them. Even when you remain in her domain, Rhaenys remains steadfast in not forcing you to love her. She has all the patience as the goddess begins to slowly express her affection more openly with gentle caresses to your face as she presents you with more lavish gifts. Her patience was rewarded seeing how eager you are to spend every moment with her.

Corlys as Poseidon + God of the Sea and Waters

Not only was Corlys the god of the seas but also associated with earthquakes and horses. He stood out as a highly ambitious deity and known for his unwavering loyalty to Mount Olympus. Unlike some deities, Corlys is willing to engage with mortals, after all, they have a dependence on the seas for trade and travel. However, it’s also known that when dealing with the god of the sea, do not try to trick or cross him, for he has demonstrated a vengeful nature when felt insulted. 

It was during your many ventures near the beach, having a profound love and fascination for the sea that you encountered the god of the sea. In your frequent visits, the shores yielded treasures ranging from the most beautiful seashells to even a literal pearl, a gift from the god. Upon making his presence known, Corlys takes matters into his own hands. Taking you to the temple beneath the sea as he cannot rely on chance encounters by the shore and it’ll save him all the trouble of finding you if you choose to never visit again. 

Your place from now on remains with Corly’s temple. He has made promises to make you visit the shore from time to time once he’s confident you won’t attempt an escape. Eager to please, Corlys has an allure of lost treasures within his home, offering you any if you desire. He also takes great care to ensure your comfort, harboring no intention of causing harm or raising his voice. His desire is clear- to have you willingly at his side. 

Laena as Aphrodite + Goddess of Love and Beauty

Laena was more than just being thegoddess of beauty and love; she was one of fertility, pleasure, and eternal youth. Occasionally she presided over marriage. Legends went so far as to attribute her beauty to being the cause of the Trojan War. Despite her being desired and adored by everyone, even capturing the affections of the infamous god of war himself, Laena's heart chose you; a mortal who didn’t seem all that extraordinary. But none of that mattered to the goddess of love, who found herself drawn to you, desiring nothing more than for you to share her boundless love and adoration. 

When Laena first approached you, she displayed no hesitation in expressing her clear intentions of wanting to court you. Doves and sparrows seemed to fly around you. In the vicinity of your home, myrtles and roses bloomed abundantly and Laena took it upon herself to personally hand you the blossoms, alongside the most marvelous seashells. Whenever you expressed gratitude or attempted to deny her gifts out of politeness, Laena would firmly assure you that you deserved nothing but the best. As she would engage in conversations, Laena would hold your gaze, running her fingers on your cheek or shoulder with such tenderness. 

Even after you became hers, Laena never stops showering you with praise and luscious gifts. The dresses she adorned you with were among the most lavish you had ever seen, and men would certainly go to war for the jewelry that adorned your skin. And for her home, which she claims is now your home too, she’s willing more than anything to accommodate any of your demands to make it all the more welcoming. Whether it’s placing all your favorite books or presenting you all your favorite foods. After all, you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with her.  

Otto as Zeus + God of the Sky and Thunder 

Otto stood as the god among gods, the force behind the establishment of order and justice in Olympus. It was his duty as king, to reign and ensure harmony throughout the divine realm. He had a number of children; it counted those that were outside of his marriage. Mortals and gods alike collectively averted their gaze, as the god of thunder desired to maintain an image of a prudent and a pious. And while like any god, he considered himself above mortal beings, he would observe them with keen interest. 

Unfortunate for you, if you happened to catch his eye, resisting him was a futile endeavor. It began with him orchestrating ways to make your life more comfortable — discovering the lushest trees near your home, bearing the most delectable fruits you'd ever savor. An eagle, acting as his messenger, would shower you with all sorts of gifts, from fragrant olive oils to delicate silver coins and ivory trinkets. The weather seemed to dance to his whims, birds serenading under the radiant sun.

It was also his way to signal his presence, a silent acknowledgment a being beyond the mortal realms was watching. And when his presence becomes known, he vows to treasure you for eternity (hinting at what’ll become of your mortal life). It’s difficult to deny him with all the myriad blessings he bestowed upon you. Once you’re brought to his home, he will present you with a luxurious silk robe and servants who dutifully follow your every command. Even if you resist, his determination remains unswayed. As a god, time was his ally and he believed in due course, you would succumb to his temptations.

Alicent as Hera + Goddess of Marriage and Childhood

Alicent stood as the embodiment of matrimony and domestic life, a revered figure to whom women turned in prayer for the blessings of harmonious marriages, the safe return of their husbands, and in hopes of birthing a healthy child. Despite her attempts to project a demure demeanor, the goddess had a silent reputation for her jealousy and occasional vengefulness. Alicent had divine authority, navigating the intricate game of politics and perhaps that was why no one dared to question her decision to bring a mortal being along.  

It was all under the reason of needing a servant though you were not yet married, still, no one dared to voice it. As her supposed servant, you were strangely exempt from menial tasks such as washing clothes or scrubbing the floor; such duties were deemed beneath you. Instead, the majority of your days were spent in the company of the goddess. You found yourself dressing and brushing Alicent’s hair as she shared her grievances about the perceived foolishness surrounding her court. 

Your time was further consumed by tending to Hera’s children and grandchildren, and her strictures extended to where you were not permitted to eat meals with other servants. In truth, the goddess had little need for another servant. But you a mortal, had sought her prayer, coming to her temple wishing for a happy life for the arrangement your parents orchestrated for you. But Alicent had been watching you long before and you have become the object of her desire. She promised to find you a suitor but the intensity of her gaze and the uncanny resemblance between the necklace of hers and the one she gifted you hints at something beyond that. 

Aegon II as Dionysus + God of Wine and Pleasure 

Aegon is known for seemingly lazy nature and rarely being seen sober, he’s notorious for the wild parties and dramatic theaters he orchestrates. The many lovers he has are ones that no one bothers to learn their names, as they typically don’t linger beyond a day. The few bastards he fathered are not accounted for. When the god of wines comes upon you, there was an unmistakable eagerness to have you in his bed. While you and others are at no fault to assume that it was driven solely by lust, you soon find it unraveled beyond that. 

As a mortal, the prospect of rejecting a god was not a reasonable one. His presence was suffocating with a possessive jealousy over your interactions with others and an incessant need for you to be near him. At times, he would pull you into his lap, craving for your affection and praise. Besides his constant need to have you share his bed at every turn, his lingering hands, and wanting your every attention, it’s not as terrible as one initially assumes. 

The god of wine provided you with the sweetest food, accompanied of course by his signature wine. He adorned you in exquisite clothing, though in the privacy of his chambers, they were far more revealing and sheer. While it was somewhat accepted to have fleeting lovers for a day, appearing with you by his side on every occasion garnered disapproval from the other gods. However, Aegon was indifferent; no stranger to being considered a disappointment. You were the one thing he was sure of, even harboring a secret desire to make you immortal, hoping you don’t notice how different your wine tastes.

Helaena as Persephone + Goddess of Seasons and Vegetation

Helaena possessed a kind of gentleness that was unusual among the gods. She carried herself with such grace and consideration. Helaena grew up to be a lovely woman who caught the interest of gods and humans alike. With mortals, the goddess did not look down on them. If anything, Helaena seemed to see the goodness and beauty in them despite all of their flaws. It therefore comes as no great surprise when the goddess seems so enchanted by you-a simple mortal. 

Helaena spent many days watching you. She possessed unending patience. What a fascinating sight you are. Deemed by the goddess to be the most beautiful being to ever walk this earth. Helaena cared nothing more than your happiness hence why you come home to a plethora of gifts and trinkets. It could be the most delicious fruit you've ever eaten or a dress the goddess sewed herself. And wherever you are, you found plants growing all around that never seem to wither-fruits and vegetables you never imagined would ever grow there.

Helaena was content as long as she could see you every day. Even if she couldn't speak or stand before you. All that mattered to her was to see your lovely smile as you open her gifts or to hear your joyful laughter. But shall you wish to meet her. Shall you seem unsatisfied with your life. Helaena will make her presence known. The goddess is nothing but a tender lover. Giving you all the time you need to adjust to her realm. Happy to watch from a distance and just speak with you.

Aemond as Apollo - God of Sun and Art

Aemond was also a god of music, truth, and healing, he was considered wise even at such a relatively young age. He enjoyed writing poems and believed in law and order. Unlike his brother, Aemond was recognized for his numerous contributions, particularly in the realms of medicine and prophecy. Aemond shows intense loyalty to his family and a great love for his mother but also is known for his jealousy and a wrathful nature; particularly when he perceives insults directed at his family or either himself. 

Many of your actions could’ve caught his eye, your visits to his temple, your singing voice echoing through the fields, how you immersed yourself far away from everyone else with the books you read. He doesn’t wish to frighten you,  guided by a gentle approach to engage you in conversations. You can feel his gaze follow you, a silent presence that seems to accompany your every move. In due time, Aemond would express his desire for you to be his lover, to not only give him your body, but your mind and soul. Even if you do not share his feelings, denying him is not advisable, Aemond is not one for rejections. 

Even if you were to deny him, Aemond would still bring you to Mount Olympus, introducing you to the other gods, making sure you understood that your place belonged with him. And while he attempts to give you some space, the god of the sun cannot bring himself to stay away. Aemond sought to spend every moment of the day with you, from sharing the same bed, to waking together to sharing meals. He yearns to hear your every thought from the flowers you liked to your opinion on the poetry he’s dedicated to you.

Criston as Heracles + Demi- God of Strength and Heroes

Criston was born a mortal. Yet even as a child, Criston showed such strength and courage unmatched by any other. He has proven to be a fierce warrior over the years. While he was hailed as a hero, many of his rage-fueled actions beg to differ. It took Criston to die to be reborn as the Demi-god. Taken from the flames to Mount Olympus where he was granted eternal youth and the right to live among the gods. He was offered a goddess, but Criston had his eyes set somewhere else.

Criston believes he must protect you. That you need him far more than he needs you. You are just a mere mortal. One fall can be fatal. Doesn't matter that his involvement could be the very reason your life is at forfeit. Makes no difference the many times you struggle and try to escape him. Criston holds you in his arms, repeating the same mantra over and over. That you have a need for him. That he must shield you from all those who will harm you. He rarely leaves your side, and no amount of begging or insults will convince him to do so.

As your lover, you have a man capable of crushing a village to ruins, capable of winning against an army. You bring out the worst in him, the madness. A madness seen in the mere thought of you being in another’s arms. Criston won't accept the possibility of your death. He was blessed with the gift of immortality and will stop at nothing to grant you the same blessing. A wonderful thought to him, but a nightmare to you. Given the chaos that will be left behind, the gods may grant him his wish.

[jnkgrnde]

— is it a crime?, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — in which, clarisse still wants you even after you break up. based off of is it a crime by sade.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of athena)

authors note — i was listening to this song while i was cleaning n thought it would make a good fic

both you and clarisse were miserable, you were just handling it in different ways.

clarisse had mood swings where one day she wanted to destroy everyone and everything in her path, and the next she isolated herself from everyone.

you sought out the support of your cabin mates, wearing your heart on your sleeve for them to help heal. you consulted with annabeth if you were in the wrong. “maybe i reacted too harsh?” you asked her.

“you acted within reason. we all know how intense she can be, but maybe you should give her one more chance. she’s been miserable without you.” you looked up at her. “should i?” annabeth nodded. “if you can find a way to help her tone it down, you know you and her are good together. it shouldn’t be hard; she visibly relaxes whenever she’s around you.” she laughed.

there was a knock on the cabin door. annabeth stood up before you could, and there was the woman of the hour. “is she there, annabeth?” annabeth crossed her arms, glaring at clarisse a bit. “she is.” “can i come in?” before she moved out of the way, annabeth gave a warning to clarisse. “you may, but if she comes out of here crying-“ “i know, chase. i won’t.” clarisse promised.

you were standing when she walked in and annabeth left. she walked in with a moderate size gash on her forehead and flowers in her hands. “hi.” she greeted nervously.

when was clarisse ever nervous?

“gods, what happened to you?” you instinctively went up to her and cupped her face, inspecting her injury. her cheeks started getting warm at the touch of your hands. “would you believe me if i said i got smacked by a tree branch?” she chuckled. you rolled your eyes with a small smile. “sit down, idiot. i’ll get the med kit.” just hearing your teasing voice brought a smile to her face.

she watched you go the bathroom as she rehearses her apology in her head. her hands were sweaty and she was bouncing her leg up and down. you came out with a red medkit and brought it to your bed, where she was sitting. she watched you take out the essentials and started the process.

for once, she was the one who had trouble keeping eye contact. “‘m sorry.” she mumbled. “what was that?” your voice soft. “i’m sorry. i, um, i- i got you flowers.” she lifted them up gently. you giggled. “thank you, sweet girl.” you took them from her hand and placed them on your nightstand, putting a mental note in your head to get a vase for them later.

she didn’t know what to say.

everything she went over for the past few days evaporated out of her headspace. what she did know, though, was that her hands were itching to hold you some type of way.

“is there a reason why you came all this way, la rue?” she looked at you when you spoke to her. she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “i wanted to apologize.” she finally explained. you hummed, letting her know to keep going.

“i should’ve trusted you- i do trust you. you had every reason to lash out at me, and you have good reason to not want to be with me. i just wanted to clear the air and want to end on a go-“ she was cut off when you pressed your lips to hers. her hands fell to your waist automatically, the itch being satisfied.

it was slow, up until she started fighting for more and you got off her. “one chance,” you told her. “you get one more chance. i won’t come easy.” she grinned wide. you still wanted her, and she wanted you too; she needed you. so she was determined to win you back.

“yes ma’am.”

[hoe4hotchner]

Another idea I have for Hades Hotch & Persephone Reader also has them blending in with humans with Hotch still being the Unit Chief and Reader being a botanist, but this time the rest of the BAU team are also Greek Gods.

Hotch and reader are the only ones who remember being gods, and like to discuss the others and whether they'll remember being gods too, and poke fun at the different relationships the team has compared to their old lives.

The gods I have in mind for each member are:

Reid — Athena

Morgan — Ares

JJ — Hera

Rossi — Zeus

Penelope — Hermes or Aphrodite

Emily — Artemis

You can change them if you think another Greek god fits them

Imposters | [A.H]

Pairing: Hades!Hotch x Persephone!reader | WC: 1.0k | CW: loss and longing, exile and punishment, kind of existential undertones, melancholic tone.

A/N: I changed Reid to Apollo based on a moodboard series that @h0tchnr made a few years ago.

The first time you and Aaron sat down for coffee after another day at the Quantico headquarters, it had been beneath a planter overflowing with marigolds and ivy. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you—bright blooms and creeping vines thriving in the shadow of the lord of the underworld. It was almost poetic, if not a little on the nose.

Mortals might have called it fate, but you knew better. Fate, as the Fates themselves would tell you, was rarely so subtle.

You cradled your mug in your hands, the warmth soothing against your skin, but your mind drifted. The gods may have been scattered, their power diminished, but remnants of their true selves clung stubbornly to their human forms. You saw it in the flash of Penelope’s dazzling smile, in Emily’s ferocity, in the way Derek strode into a room as if it were a battlefield waiting to be won.

“Do you think Morgan’s figured it out yet?” you asked, tearing your gaze from the window, where Derek and Penelope laughed together like soldiers who’d just won a great victory.

Aaron’s dark eyes followed yours, his expression as still and unreadable as the River Styx—oh, how you missed accompanying Charon on his boat occasionally. “Ares?” He took a slow sip of his coffee. “Not likely. He’s too busy trying to win over Aphrodite to notice why he’s so drawn to conflict.”

You couldn’t suppress a grin. “She’s entirely too charming for her own good. Then again, Aphrodite always was.”

“Charm has always been her weapon of choice,” Aaron replied, his voice low, almost reverent.

Your laughter filled the space between you, light and melodic. For a moment, it felt like you were back in another life, in another world. One where your throne was surrounded by endless fields of flowers, and his by the shadowed expanse of his realm. But this was the mortal world, where you were no longer Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, and he was no longer Hades, its ruler.

Still, you both remembered.

“She’s not the only one,” you mused, your gaze shifting to Spencer, who was absorbed in a book across the room. “Reid might piece it together eventually. Apollo’s curiosity will get the better of him. It always does.” Aaron chuckled quietly, a rare sound that felt like it was meant only for you. “Apollo always fancied himself all-knowing, but even he can be blind to the obvious. He’s human now, just like the rest of them.”

That was the cruelest truth of it all. The others didn’t remember. They lived their mortal lives, echoing their divine personalities, oblivious to the power and grandeur they once held. And you and Aaron? You sat in silence, watching it all unfold.

Your eyes drifted to Emily, standing apart from the others with her arms crossed, her gaze sharp and watchful. Artemis, goddess of the hunt, protector of maidens, and champion of independence. She carried herself with the same fierce grace she always had, though she was unaware of it now.

“Do you ever think we should tell them?” you asked softly, your words barely audible.

Aaron didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched the others, his gaze lingering on Rossi—Zeus himself, laughing boisterously as though his thunder still rumbled—and JJ, her poised demeanor a quiet testament to her role as Hera.

“And what would that change?” he asked at last, his voice steady but tinged with the gravity of someone who had borne the weight of a throne. Who knew the issues it would cause. “We were exiled for a reason.”

You nodded, though the ache in your chest remained. Whatever crime led to the gods’ fall, it was severe enough to shatter Olympus and scatter its rulers among mortals. Now you lived among them, stripped of your divine power, haunted by memories of what once was.

Still, in the chaos of this second life, you’d found each other. As always. Aaron’s hand brushed against yours, his touch grounding you. “We have each other. That’s enough,” he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of an oath made long ago.

“For now,” you replied, your smile bittersweet.

But as you watched the others, their mortal facades wearing thin under the weight of their forgotten divinity, you couldn’t help but wonder: How much longer would they remain in the dark? And when they finally remembered, would the mortal world survive the return of the gods and their wrath?

The next time it happened, it was late afternoon. The sun hung low in the sky, casting shadows over the city streets. You and Aaron had taken a detour from your usual route home, walking past the row of shops where the scent of fresh bread mingled with the distant scent of fresh-cut grass.

Then you saw it—just for a split second, a dog running across the sidewalk, its movements eerily familiar. The way it barked and wagged its tail, the way its fur shone in the golden light. You froze.

Aaron noticed your stillness immediately, his eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

You blinked, but the image of that dog remained—its three heads swirling in your mind like a forgotten dream. Cerberus, once your companion, now reduced to this—an ordinary canine in a world where gods had no power.

Your heart sank. “Do you think we’ll ever find him?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling ever so slightly.

Aaron’s brow furrowed as he followed your gaze, the intensity of his thoughts mirrored in his eyes. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your jacket. “I’m working on it,” he said, his voice steady despite the sadness in his gaze. “But a three-headed dog turned into a single-headed one is not so easy to track down. Especially when he doesn’t even know he’s ours anymore.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your chest spreading. “He was always so loyal. To you. To us.” Cerberus had always been more than just a guardian. He had been a symbol of your connection to the Underworld—loyal, protective, and steadfast. He had been your first real friend when you had arrived in the underworld. And now, like everything else, he was lost.

“We’ll find him,” Aaron promised, his voice carrying the weight of the oaths he’d made. “We always do.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded again. Maybe the gods had been cast down, but you and Aaron—Persephone and Hades—would never stop searching for the ones you’d lost.

[lunette-png]

Waves of Ithaca

Prologue

The halls of the Ithaca Palace glimmered under the morning light, with the sun giving warmth to its bricks. A soft echo of laughter fills the open courtyard, belonging to a child- so high and bright. A little girl, no older than three, dashes across the stone floors barefooted. Her hair bouncing wildly as she ran.

"Come here, my little naiad!” Odysseus called out, as he catched her before swooping down to lift his daughter into his arms. She squealed as he spun her around, her small fingers gripping his tunic.

“Father!” she cried between giggles. “Put me down!”. Odysseus only laughed, holding her close. "Not until you promise me you won’t run away from your old father so fast next time.” This only makes her giggle more, as she jokingly pushes her father's face away.

Penelope approached, watching them with a quiet smile. She was young still, her beauty unwearied by time, her gentle hands carrying a wreath of woven olive leaves. “Our daughter is swift as the sea breeze,” she mused. “Perhaps Poseidon himself blessed her feet.”

At those words, Odysseus’ eyes twinkled with mischief. “Shall we ask him?” He carried the child to the courtyard’s sacred spring, where the clear water bubbled up from the earth, a gift from the gods. Kneeling, he placed his daughter’s tiny feet upon the cool stones, letting her toes dip into the water. Her (e/c) eyes looks on in confusion before turning to her father, anticipating what will happen next.

“Lord of the sea,” Odysseus murmured, his voice half-serious, half-playful, “if you have given my daughter the swiftness of the waves, grant her safe passage through life’s storms, that she may never be lost to the tide.”

Soon the wind stirred around them, accompanied by the rustling of the olive trees. The water rippled unnaturally, curling around the child’s feet like an embrace. She looked up, her wide eyes reflecting the golden sky, unafraid.

“Did you see that, Mother?” she whispered, her voice filled with a wonderous curiosity.

Penelope knelt beside them, touching her daughter’s damp foot. “Poseidon listens,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The young princess looks back at her feet beneath the water. She did not know what it meant to be blessed by a god—but she felt something stir in her chest, something powerful.

Odysseus placed a hand over small head. “Do you feel it?” he asked.

She nodded. “It feels like the sea is inside me.”

He smiled. “Good.”

A year has passed since that day. During one evening, Odysseus sat beside his daughter in the megaron, the great hall where the fire burned low. Humming an old sailor's tune, with his daughter humming along. It would soon be broken by a question.

“Father?” she asked sleepily. “Why has Mother’s belly grown round?”

Odysseus chuckled. “Because you’re going to have a little brother, my little naiad.”

The girl’s face lit up with curiosity, the drowsiness she felt has dissipated. “A brother?”

“Yes.” He brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “A small, wailing thing, but we’ll love him all the same.”, he added with a soft chuckle.

She considered this, pursing her lips. “Will he be strong?”

“That will depend on the heart he carries.”

“Will he love the sea like you and I?”

Odysseus smiled. “Perhaps. But he will need someone to teach him—someone swift as the waves, clever as the gulls.”

She sat up proudly. “I’ll teach him.”, she proudly declared with her eyes lit with determination.

Penelope, reclining nearby, watched them with a hand resting on her belly. “Then he shall be lucky indeed,” she murmured, eyes glistening in the firelight.

Telemachus was only weeks old when Odysseus carried him to the sacred grove of Athena, basking in the golden light of late afternoon, the old olive trees swaying gently in the breeze. The scent of earth and sea salt combined, filling the air- the very essence of Ithaca. Odysseus walked ahead, his newborn son cradled in his arms, swaddled in soft linen. Beside him, Penelope held their daughter’s small hand, guiding her carefully over the roots that curled up from the ground.

“Are we really going to meet the goddess?” the little girl whispered, peering up at her mother.

Penelope smiled. “Not quite, my love. But this is her place, and your father wants to introduce your brother to her.”

“She is my guide, my shield in battle, and she will watch over him too.” Odysseus adds, the infant cradled in his arms.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she clutched her mother’s hand a little tighter.

When they reached the heart of the grove, the great olive tree standing tall above them, Athena was there, just as they had known she would be. She was a figure of calm, her presence as natural as the wind, her grey eyes bright with warmth. The goddess looked behind, her composure as stoic and tall as ever, but there was a flicker of softness once her eyes landed on the infant that Odysseus carried.

She smiled softly as Odysseus approached, still holding the swaddled infant close to his chest. No words were spoken, only the sound of rustling leaves and the faint movement of the waves, as she walked closer to the father and son.

The goddess bent down to meet the infant's gaze, her grey eyes softening. Telemachus slowly blinked up at her, and with a delicate movement, his tiny fingers curled around Athena’s outstretched hand. A gentle, almost unnoticeable wave of energy passed between them, a moment of silent understanding shared.

"He's a strong one," Athena said, her voice breaks the silence. “I can see it already.”

Odysseus grinned, ruffling his son's head. “I’m counting on you to guide him when the time comes, just as you’ve guided me.”

Athena chuckled, standing tall once more. “He’ll need more than guidance. He’ll need heart, and that I can see he has. You and Penelope did well.”

Odysseus smiled, pressing a hand to his son’s small chest. “He will be watched over.”

As he bid his farewell to the goddess, his daughter reached out, her tiny fingers brushing against her brother’s. “I will watch over him too,” she vowed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Odysseus looked at her, pride swelling in his chest. He placed a hand on her head, feeling the warmth of her presence, along with the weight of her promise.

“You will, my daughter,” he said. “And he will be all the stronger for it.”

The trees swayed gently, and far above them, the owl of Athena watched.

The harbor of Ithaca was alive with movement—sailors loading supplies, warriors sharpening blades, banners snapping in the wind. Odysseus stood at the bow of his ship, dressed in bronze armor, his sword fastened at his side.

On the shore, Penelope stood tall, her face calm yet the sorrow in her eyes spoke differently. Their daughter clung to the hem of her mother’s robe, her hands curled into fists.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Odysseus knelt before her, his heart aching. “I must, little one. There is a war to fight.”

“But what if you don’t come back?”

"I promise I will, but until then, you have to be strong. Can you do that, my little naiad?", he reassured her.

Tears soon welled in her eyes, but she did not let them fall. She straightened her back, just as he had taught her. “I will be strong,” she promised, her voice though still shaky- is more stern than before.

He smiled. “I know you will." , before he leaned down to leave a kiss on her forehead.

As he stepped onto the ship, he looked back one last time—at his wife, his son in her arms, and his daughter standing beside her, the sea breeze lifting her hair.

And then, with the wind at his back, he sailed away.

AN: i finally locked in for this one. can you spot my daddy and mommy issues? :"DD i still don't know where i am going with this story, and who the love interest will be- but we'll get there eventually. the part where odysseus introduces telemachus is inspired by gigi's animatic!

[achilles-rage]

achilles-rage’s twelve days of christmas

day twelve: have yourself a merry little christmas (ft. evan buckley)

summary: spending christmas eve with your boyfriend, evan buckley.

word count: 1.6k

series masterlist

a/n: so sorry this is late, my grandparents just got here for christmas and i’ve been spending time with them!! and if i’m not online tomorrow, merry christmas!! i love and appreciate you guys so much, you have no idea!! enjoy<3

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

Despite all the disorder and chaos the holidays bring, Buck loves everything about it. He’s often stressed about finding the perfect gifts for his loved ones, but the pure, unfiltered joy it brings him to see his friends and family happy always makes him completely forget about the hunt to find said gifts.

Coming home from work on Christmas Eve this year, however, felt off. His heart felt warm as he left work; feeling the brisk December air, seeing the multicoloured lights, and watching those around him frantically searching for last minute gifts and turkey dinner ingredients. He was only pulled back to his own Christmas Eve when he got to his apartment, remembering that you’re working late tonight, and he won’t be able to spend the night with you.

His face lights up, however, when he opens the door to Christmas music playing, and you standing in the kitchen in an apron, rather than a dark, empty house.

“Merry Christmas Eve, baby.” you say in a sickly-sweet voice, looking up from your mixing bowl to give him a wide grin.

He drops his bag and crosses the apartment to give you a kiss, unable to say anything as he wraps his head around the fact that you’re right here. He could already see his night in his head; all of his friends were spending the nights with their own families, so he’d be sat on the couch, all alone, wishing you were beside him in your matching Christmas pajamas.

“I thought you had to work?” he says when he pulls back from the kiss, one hand finding its home on your hip. 

You drop the spatula in your hand and raise your shoulders, giving him a cheeky smile. 

“I may have wanted to surprise you. My boss told me I could go home early, so I figured I’d keep it a surprise. I thought we could-” you explain, but you’re cut off by his lips on yours again, his shirt most definitely getting covered in flour and sugar as he presses his body against yours.

His kiss is slow and passionate, and it makes your head spin as his cologne invades your every sense. You haphazardly raise your hands to his wrists in a desperate attempt to ground yourself as he holds your face in his hands, and the stubble that scratches along your chin and your cheeks makes you shiver.

“This is the best surprise ever.” he murmurs as he pulls back, looking down at you with a dazed smile. 

He then looks down at the cookie dough on the counter, and smirks as he dips a finger into the bowl and raises a glob of it to his lips. You roll your eyes with a soft laugh, then push him away and take the mixing bowl back into your arm to keep him away from it.

“Hey, stop that! These are for dinner tomorrow.” you tell him sternly, although the smile threatening to make its way onto your face betrays you. You’re going over to Athena and Bobby’s tomorrow for Christmas, and you desperately want to make sure you don’t run out of sweets.

“I don’t think anyone will mind if we’re one cookie short.” he tries to reason, taking a step forward. You step away again, a quiet giggle escaping your lips as he lunges at you and wraps his arms around your plush middle.

“What about 10 cookies short? I know you; you always eat them when they come out of the oven.” you argue, raising your shoulders to protect your neck as he drops his head and begins to press sloppy kisses to your neck, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Quality check.” he mumbles against your skin, and you laugh again, trying to squirm out of his grip.

“Buck, I’m serious.” you get out through breathless laughs, feeling your heart rate increase at the feeling of being wrapped in your boyfriend’s arms.

“And I’m in love with you.” he purrs, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pulling away reluctantly. He looks at the big smile and your face, and his chest swells with pride. He loves being able to make you a giggling and flustered mess with just a few kisses.

“And I love you. Now, please, can you get started on dinner while I finish these?” you ask him sweetly as the oven dings to signal it’s reached the right temperature.

“You’re no fun.” he teases, but complies, making his way to the fridge to pull out ingredients for dinner.

“Hey, I came home from work early for you. And, I bought more cocoa powder at the store so we can make homemade hot chocolate and drink it while we watch Christmas movies in our matching Christmas pajamas, which I also bought for us.” you argue in a teasing tone, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He beams over his shoulder at you, and he has to resist the urge to pull you into him again at the thought of spending Christmas Eve with you on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms with no worries or stress.

“You’re the best.” he tells you with a wink, balancing the food in his arms before dropping it on the kitchen counter.

“Damn right, I am.” you tell him with a smirk.

You both continue to work around each other in the kitchen, falling into a comfortable silence as the soft hum of the Christmas music envelopes you. 

When the cookies are done and cooling on the counter, and your bellies are full from the dinner Buck had made, you go upstairs to change into your pajamas. While Buck’s consist of pajama pants and a t-shirt, yours are shorts with the same pattern, and a long sleeve shirt.

You sit on the counter as Buck makes the hot chocolate, swinging your legs absentmindedly as you talk about your days, and the plan for tomorrow. You sit close enough to the stove that Buck can keep a hand on you when he’s stirring the hot chocolate, at his insistence, of course, letting him run his fingers over the soft flesh of your thighs.

Every now and then, you pull him towards you, distracting him momentarily with a kiss as you wrap your legs around his waist. He melts into the kiss each time, the task at hand slipping his mind as he gets wrapped up in you, but he always pulls away before the hot chocolate burns, and you’re not sure how it hasn’t burnt already.

You bring your hot mugs to the couch once it’s ready, and curl up under lots of blankets, sides pressed together as you rest your head on his shoulder and he extends his arm behind you on the couch. 

“What movie should we watch?” Buck asks as he turns on the TV, beginning to scroll through movies.

“How about It’s a Wonderful Life?” you ask, eyes following the flipping of movie titles passing on screen.

“What?” he says, brows furrowing as he looks down at you. Your brows furrow as well, and you look up at him quizzically, eyes searching his face.

“You’ve never seen It’s a Wonderful Life?” you ask in disbelief, letting your jaw drop as he shakes his head.

“No? Was I supposed to?” You sit up straight, hot chocolate in hand threatening to spill over the edge of the mug as you stare at him, completely dumbfounded.

“It’s a classic, I used to watch it every year growing up. What kind of movies did you watch as a kid?” you ask, turning your body completely to face him. He shrugs sheepishly, then looks down at his lap, feeling a little embarrassed.

“We never really celebrated Christmas much. I mean, there were presents and stuff, but there were never any traditions or anything. My parents got even more upset and distant around holidays, which makes sense now, I guess. But at the time, I just didn’t really see the point in celebrating Christmas if all it did was make my parents sad.” Your eyes soften at his words, and you feel a pang in your chest as you picture a little baby Buck wondering why his house seems to be the only one not filled with joy and laughter.

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.” you whisper, a frown on your face. You move your fingers up to his chin and force his face back up, ducking your head a little until his eyes are back on yours. “We should make some new traditions, give you a real, happy Christmas.”

“Like homemade hot chocolate?” he replies, a small smile coming back onto his face. It’s true, his Christmases were never great, but now, with you, he’s extremely excited about the holidays.

“Yeah, and Christmas movies in matching pajamas.” you reply with a smile, leaning in to kiss him softly.

He hums as he kisses you back, and when your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, he lets out a content sigh. This has got to be the best Christmas ever. He has everything he could ever wish for right here in front of him.

“Sounds perfect. As long as it’s with you.” he tells you sincerely when you both pull away. 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and you bite your lip, as you stare into his eyes, entranced.

“Merry Christmas.” you whisper, then move to face the TV again, settling against him.

“Merry Christmas.” he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his head on top of yours and clicking play on the movie.

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[blessedbyahuntress]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Six: The Storm is Getting on my Nerves

Prev/Next

Warnings: I don't think so

Word Count: 795

Listen to: Storm

You awoke to the sound of waves crashing against wood and floorboards creaking dangerously. If you strained you could hear a voice saying, “brace for a storm.” And then an echoing, “storm.”

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you realized you were below deck of the main ship. Polites sat on a wooden stool beside you, looking rather asleep.

“Polites,” you whispered. “Polites.”

“Huh?” Your friend’s eyes shot open and he stared around in confusion before his gaze landed on you. He blinked fondly at you. “Oh! Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey,” you responded. “Can you get me on deck?”

He raised an eyebrow and pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “You shouldn’t be walking.”

You waved away his concern. “Yeah, I sort of got that from how Eurylochus dramatically carried me out of that cave.” You saw Polites visibly tense at the mention of the second in command, but didn’t think about it.

“I guess I could carry you…” Polites relented. “At least up the stairs.”

You grinned. “Thank you, Polites.”

So he grudgingly helped you to your feet, your toes barely skimming the floorboards before he swept you up, even more gracefully than Eurylochus had yesterday.

Polites was small, much smaller than the other men, but he didn’t struggle to carry you up the stairs; you may be taller than him, but you were leaner and lighter than him.

You heard Odysseus’s voice over the roaring of the sea. “Head toward the island, but avoid the crashing waves.” 

“Thank you,” you murmured to Polites as he set you down, a rosy blush adorning his face at your sweet tone.

“Anytime,” was all he could muster.

“Captain.” your head turned to the familiar voice and you saw Eurylochus cross the ship to Odysseus. “We will capsize with these waves, our fleet will fail.”

“Have them follow our ship, we’ll ensure that we prevail!” You called across to your friends. Their heads whipped toward you, Odysseus looking glad you were alive, and Eurylochus looking horrified.

Polites’s back was turned to you and you unstrapped his sword from his back.

Using the sword as a sort of support, you stumbled over to one sail. 

“Very good,” Hermes said. “But you need help with that.”

“Then help me,” you responded through gritted teeth as you unsheathed the stolen sword.

There was a burst of gold, and then Hermes was hovering in front of you. He wriggled his eyebrows at you. “What’s the magic word?”

“Help me now or we’re all dead. Which means you’re dead, because Athena is still watching over Odysseus and will kill you.” You smirked.

“That’s twenty two words,” Hermes mused, counting on his fingers before shrugging. “Guess they work.”

His caduceus morphed into a dagger, and the god used it to cut through one half of the rope. You took care of the rest, and the sail flew open, untroubled now that the ensnaring rope had been removed.

“We’re taking too much damage to survive!” You heard Eurylochus call. “At this rate we won’t make it out alive!”

You snorted. “Thank you, Hermes,” you said, turning away from your mentor.

A sudden lurch made you slam into the side of the boat. You gasped in pain as wood met your limp leg, and stars danced in your vision.

You blinked, and for a second you thought you were dead. Through the clouds was a silver island shape. You blinked again, yet it was still there.

You weren’t the only one to notice it. Elpenor and Perimedes both pointed to the island. “Captain, look!” They shouted.

You struggled to your feet. “An island in the sky,” you said in unpracticed unison with Eurylochus and Odysseus.

“Eurylochus, grab the harpoons. As many as you can find,” Odysseus ordered.

“What do you have in mind?” The second in command asked.

“We’re gonna shoot for the sky.”

“What?” Eurylochus demanded, incredulous. 

But Odysseus was already turning away to gaze up at the sky island. Eurylochus rolled his eyes slightly and made his way toward you; you were handing out harpoons, having overheard the conversation.

You offered him two, and he took them. His fingers brushed yours for less than a millisecond, but just the touch made his heart flutter. Eurylochus gave you a small nod of thanks, and you smiled. Gods you had to stop smiling at him like that, especially when he’s trying to concentrate.

“Everyone grab a harpoon and raise it high!” Odysseus’s command rang across the ship, and you followed it, ignoring the flare of pain in your leg. “We’re aiming for the island in the sky.”

Harpoons went flying out of hands, but none connected with the island.

“In the sky,” you repeated, shutting your eyes.

Then you threw.

[iheartambss]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!PoseidonCabin!Reader

summary: You and Clarisse have been anonymous pen pals and when identities are revealed it all goes south

warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff, Clarisse is kinda a bitch at first, not proof read

a/n: I hope this is what you wanted! I added a little twist to it, I hope that's ok. I may have self projected just a bit, the request didn't say a specific cabin so l put mine. Yes I'm a cabin 3 girlie. I had to write in the catradora line, it would’ve bothered me if I didn't take the opportunity. Best wing girl award goes to… Amaris! Amaris is in cabin 6 aka Athena btw. I actually had a lot of fun writing Amaris and Y/n's friendship hehe. Also if you’d like to listen to the song while reading there’s a link below :)

Mine by Taylor Swift

You and Clarisse have been anonymous pen pals for a couple months now. You accidentally left a note you had written where you talked about your favorite book which coincidentally was Clarisse's too and ever since you both have been leaving notes for each on the very same spot every day, every few days or even every week. You don't like Clarisse because she bullies other campers and Clarisse doesn't like you because you're one of the only people who have actually stood up to her, at least, that’s what she tells herself.

You watch as Clarisse shoved Percy then proceeded to push him on the floor with a frown. You walk up to Clarisse after you watched the girl walk away from Percy, "Leave the new kid alone princess. Quit being a bitch," You hiss as you cross your arms. Clarisse's brows furrow, "Did you just call me a bitch?" She takes a threatening step towards you, "Why don't you come closer and say that again?" Her tone is challenging.

You stepped closer to the girl and looked up at Clarisse, "Quit being a bitch princess.” You said the word ‘princess’ in the same mocking tone you always did. Clarisse's eyes flash with anger and she lunges forward, grabbing your shirt and pulling you close so your faces are inches apart. You gave her a smug smile before your smile shifted into a smirk and ignored the hammering of your heart, "What? You gonna kiss me or something princess?" You teased.

A scowl settles on Clarisse's features when she feels her cheeks flush and she roughly shoves you away from her, "You're so fucking infuriating" She spits. You give her another smug smile as you shrug, "I try" then you turn around and leave. Clarisse watches you go with a mix of frustration and satisfaction. She turns around, muttering under her breath about you before heading back to her cabin.

-

The next day, you walked around the library and went to grab the note in your favorite book but before you could, Clarisse snatched the book from you. Her eyes are wide and she looks nervous like she’s hiding something. "What are you doing?" Clarisse demands, holding the book against her chest protectively. "Why does it matter Clarisse?" You said, rolling your eyes before reaching out towards the book, "Give me the book."

"No." Clarisse crosses her arms over the book, "You’re just trying to sneak a peek at my notes." She hisses, taking a step closer to you as her eyes narrowed. You looked at the Ares girl with wide eyes like you had just seen a ghost, "Your notes?..." You asked softly. Clarisse finally lets out a small sigh, her eyes still narrowed as she watches you, "Yeah, my notes." She nods, "Why are you so interested in them anyways?" Her brow furrows in confusion.

"Clarisse... I'm the one who’s been writing you," You replied softly, thinking about everything you’ve talked about and how sweet the Ares girl was in contrast to her normal demeanor. Clarisse's eyes widened in surprise, and she took a step back, "What?" She stammers, looking at you like you've grown another head. She glances down at the book in her arms, then back up to you, "You've... been writing me?"

You nod, "I mean if you've been writing notes and leaving them in that book then yes," You point to the book in Clarisse's arms. Clarisse looks at the book then back up to you, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh," She mutters, running her fingers through her hair, seemingly at a loss for words. She looks conflicted about the whole thing before she decides to do what she does best in these type of situations, run. After a moment, Clarisse clears her throat, "I have to go," then she shoves the book in your hands before quickly taking her leave.

-

You tried to find Clarisse to talk to her but you couldn't find the girl anywhere. You’d catch a glimpse of her at times but the minute you’d try to walk over to her, she's gone. After a while of the same dance, you’ve realized she’s been avoiding you and it was driving you crazy. All you can think about is how sweet the girl was to you when you both didn't know who the other was. You always found the Ares girl attractive and had a little crush on her but that little crush grew into something bigger once you realized that she was the one you were writing the whole time.

You’re currently with your best friend, Amaris, laying in her bed as you talk. "Am, I can't stop thinking about her," You sighed. Amaris looks at you, a small smile playing on her lips. "You mean the girl who's been avoiding you for two weeks?" She teases gently. "Well, maybe it's time to confront her then." You look at Amaris with wide eyes, "That's like the worst advice you could give me when it comes to Clarisse," You mumble, "Who knows how she'll react.” Amaris shrugs, propping her chin on her hand. "So you can keep stewing in uncertainty, or you can take the plunge and see what happens. Either way, you're not going to stop thinking about her until you try."

You look at Amaris, still uncertain. "What would I even say to her?" Amaris grins mischievously, "How about ‘I know you’ve been avoiding me for a while, but I can't stop thinking about you.' Something like that should get her attention." You laugh softly, "Yeah that could get her attention I guess. Maybe a fist to the face too if she's generous enough." “Well, you know what they say, 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained'." Amaris winks, clearly enjoying teasing you. "And hey, maybe she'll surprise you. You never know with her." You nod, "I'll try to talk to her tonight at the bonfire."

"Good luck. You're gonna need it," Amaris says playfully. "Don't forget to let me know how it goes." You blew a kiss to Amaris, "Thanks. I will Am," then you hug her before leaving the Athena cabin. With a smile, Amaris watches as you leave. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, knowing that things might get interesting tonight.

-

That night, you muster up all the courage you can and head to the bonfire. The air is filled with laughter and music as campers gather around, enjoying each others company. As you approach the bonfire, you see Amaris chatting with a group of other campers. She notices you and gives you a small wave before turning back to her friends. Taking a deep breath, you make your way over to her. You put your hand on Amaris' shoulder and smile, "Hey Am." Amaris turns to look at you, her face softening into a warm smile. "Hey Y/n," she replies, gesturing for you to join the group.

You smile as you greet Amaris' friends before looking back at her, "Girl, who are you trying to impress today?" You tease, "You look hot." Amaris rolls her eyes, but can't help but smile as she replies, "I always look good babes and you look pretty damn hot yourself." She nudges you gently, a mischievous glint in her eye. You grin, gently nudging the girl back, "Flattery will get you no where Am." Amaris raises an eyebrow at you, clearly enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Well then," she says with a grin, "Maybe I should start thinking about upping the ante."

You look at Amaris, giving her a playful apologetic look. "Sorry babes, my heart belongs to another." Amaris laughs lightly, the sound filling the air. "Ah yes, I remember hearing about that certain someone." She teases. "Have you seen her?" You shake your head, "Not yet. Have you?" Amaris shrugs her shoulders, "I saw her head to the bathroom with some of the Ares kids. I think she went to give the new kid their welcome gift." You frown at that, “You think she’d learn her lesson after Percy.” "You gonna go find your knight in shining armor?" Amaris says with a mischievous grin.

You sigh softly, "Yeah, I might go look for her in a bit." Amaris smiles warmly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well remember, when you do, don’t forget to let me know. l'd love to hear all about it." She takes a sip of her drink and adds casually, "Good luck." You nod, "I know, I know. Thanks Am." Amaris waves her hand dismissively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Always," She says before gently nudging you and gesturing at something, "The princess has arrived." You turn to look at what Amaris gestured to and see Clarisse. Your heart skips a beat as you take in how beautiful the girl looks.

Clarisse wore a red crop top and black cargo pants. You couldn’t help but think the girl looked absolutely breathtaking, she always did. Amaris looks at you with a smug grin, "Careful lovergirl, you might start drooling," She teases. You turn to look at Amaris, blushing softly as you roll your eyes, "Shut up." Amaris bursts out laughing, shaking her head at you playfully. "All right, all right," She chuckles, taking another sip of her drink. "Go talk to your princess then." You look at Amaris, uncertain, "I'm beginning to think this is a bad idea Am. What if she makes fun of me?"

Amaris rolls her eyes, "And how is that different from any other day? Just go talk to her." You nod and take a deep breath, walking over to Clarisse before you can change your mind again, "Hey princess." Despite all the other times you've called her princess, this one came out soft, not mocking like it usually does. Clarisse sighs before looking up at you with a raised eyebrow, "What do you want?" She asks bluntly. "You," You reply casually before blushing when you realize what you said. "I mean you cause I want to talk to you," You stutter out.

Clarisse can't help but smirk at your blush and stuttering. "Well, aren't you sweet?" She says sarcastically. "I don't want to talk to you." You frown, slightly hurt by her words, "Just answer one question and I'll leave you alone. Please." Clarisse narrows her eyes at you, "What's the question?" She asks warily. "Why have you been avoiding me?" You ask softly. Clarisse sighs again, clearly not expecting that question. She shrugs lightly, trying to play it off casually. "I wasn't avoiding you. Just, you know... busy training."

"Bullshit," You reply. "Every time I see you and try to talk to you, you disappear." Clarisse rolls her eyes. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. So just leave me alone." She says firmly, turning away from you. You frown, "Clarisse just tell me the truth.” "The truth? Fine," Clarisse snaps, turning back to face you with fire in her eyes. "I was avoiding you because I'm not interested in some pathetic little crush you have on me," She shouts, the words coming out harsher than she intended. You felt your heart shatter and tears well up in your eyes.

Clarisse's eyes widen and she internally winces at the sight of you trying to hold back tears. For a moment, she feels a pang of guilt, but quickly pushes it aside. You look around, feeling eyes on you before looking back at Clarisse. "Ok… got it. I’ll leave you alone" and with that you walk away from the Ares girl. You kept walking even as you heard Amaris call out for you and left the bonfire. Clarisse's eyes narrow at Amaris, she felt a pang of jealousy course through her which changed to satisfaction as she watched you ignore her and continue walking. Amaris turns to Clarisse and walks over to her, "What the fuck did you say to her?" She said, glaring at the Ares girl.

Clarisse shrugs nonchalantly. "I told her to leave me alone," she explains. "I'm clearly not interested in being friends with her." She takes a sip of her drink, unfazed by Amaris' glare. Amaris rolls her eyes, "Me and you both know that's total bullshit La Rue," she spat before adding, "I've seen the way you look at her, even before you realized she was the one writing you." Clarisse's expression becomes cold and defensive. "What are you talking about?" she asks sharply. "I don't look at her like anything." She steps closer to Amaris, their eyes locked in a fierce stare down.

Amaris looks up at Clarisse, seething at her. "Cut the shit Clarisse. I know you like her, it's so obvious. You stare at her as if you were in love with her." A small spark of irritation flashes in Clarisse's eyes. She's not used to people seeing through her. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "If you must know, yes, I do have feelings for her." "You two are fucking stupid. You don't want to admit you like her, she can't and won't believe you like her no matter how many times I tell her," Amaris adds. "Stop being a fucking jackass and go find her. Y/n is one of the sweetest girls I know and she’s madly in love with you. You'd be fucking dumb as fuck to pass up the opportunity to be with a girl as amazing as her."

Clarisse is taken aback by Amaris' words. She can't deny that she feels something for you but she's not used to expressing her emotions in such a vulnerable way. "You're right," she says, taking a deep breath. Amaris grins, "Of course I'm right, I'm always right. Now get the fuck out of here. Y/n's probably by the river near cabin 3." Nodding, Clarisse heads out towards the river, her heart pounding in anticipation. She's nervous but determined to express her feelings to you. After a brief walk, Clarisse spots you sitting by the river, you head bowed as you dangle your feet in the water. Clarisse approaches cautiously, clearing her throat to get your attention.

You turn around to face Clarisse with a tear stained face, your eyes widening when you realize it's the Ares girl. Clarisse's heart sinks at the sight of you. She knows she's the reason for your pain, and it hurts her deeply. "Y/n," Clarisse says softly, taking a seat next to you on the riverbank. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier." She swallows hard, feeling her cheeks redden a bit. "I... I might have been a bit harsh with you." You look at Clarisse, giving her an unimpressed look. "Oh you think?" You snap sarcastically. Clarisse internally winces at your harsh tone, but she understands your anger. "I guess I deserved that," she says, hanging her head in shame. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that."

You look away from her and towards the river, thinking for a moment before turning back to Clarisse. "Gonna have to come up with something better than that." Clarisse takes a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Y/n, I'm really sorry for how I acted earlier," she says, looking into your eyes earnestly. "I was wrong to treat you that way. You mean a lot to me and I hope you'll give me another chance to make it up to you." "You know it's funny cause Amaris would tell me you liked me back all the time but I never wanted to confess because I knew there was no way l'd ever have a chance with you. I guess I was right," You said as you wiped tears off your face.

Clarisse frowns, Amaris told her this but hearing it from you somehow made it worse. How could you believe you'd never have a chance with her? "But you do have a chance Y/n," she replied, adding, "Don't you get it? I love you. I've always have." You look at Clarisse with wide eyes, "Then why did you avoid me like I was the plague? Why didn't you say that back at the bonfire?" You ask softly, like you’re scared that you might scare the Ares girl away. Clarisse swallows hard as she avoided your gaze. "I-I didn't know how to react back then. All my life, I've hidden my vulnerability just so l wouldn't seem weak to my father...and I know that's obviously no excuse for my behavior but that’s why. I'm so so sorry Y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”

You look away from Clarisse again and think about something before speaking up. "Just promise me you'll try to be more vulnerable with me in the future Clar,” you say softly before turning back to the Ares girl. Clarisse's eyes widened in surprise at your request. She didn't know if she could make such a promise, but she knew she wanted to try for you. "I promise I'll try Y/n." You smile softly in response and stay silent, taking in how beautiful the Ares girl looked under the moonlight. Clarisse gazed back at you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. "You're so beautiful angel," She murmured softly. Your soft smile turned into a grin at the compliment and you could feel butterflies forming in your stomach.

"And you're gorgeous princess," You mumbled just as soft. Clarisse's cheeks flushed at your compliment. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She moved closer to you, unable to resist the urge to be more near you. Your eyes flickered between Clarisse's eyes and her lips. You resisted the urge to lean in, still scared of the possibility of scaring the Ares girl away. Clarisse sensed your hesitation, but she didn't want to push you away. She wanted to be close to you, to feel the warmth of your presence. "Can I kiss you angel?" She asked softly. You nod immediately, leaning in just a bit to meet Clarisse half way.

Clarisse's heart was racing as your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was unlike any kiss she had ever experienced before; filled with tenderness and vulnerability that she had never allowed herself to show. She deepened the kiss, feeling warmth spreading through her body. You return the kiss with a soft smile, feeling like your heart is beating out of your chest. Clarisse's hands moved up to cup your face, her fingers tangling in your hair as she lost herself in the kiss. It was like a spark had ignited inside of her, and she couldn't get enough.

You pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, "Does this mean we're dating now?" You asked softly, trying to hide your hopeful tone of voice. Clarisse rolled her eyes at you but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, "Yes," she replied simply. “We're dating dumbass." She leaned in to kiss you again, but paused, looking into your eyes. "I know it's probably too early for this but I already said it so fuck it... I love you Y/n." You look at Clarisse with adoration in your eyes and grin, "I love you too Clarisse," then you closed the distance and pulled her into another kiss.

[buckleyanddiaz]

Eddie comes back to LA, staying through Bobby's funeral and he sees May keep it together. Everyone is trying to keep it together and everyone has a broken look in their eyes, but May is walking between her brother and her mother holding it together in a way that reminds him of a conversation at Dispatch, so long ago now. There's no pride in grief, but they all hold their heads up and walk the path down, and May doesn't leave Athena's side.

They had selected Bobby's spot on the honor wall together.

Eddie watches over Chim as he exhales through his teeth. he stays within reach of Hen as she clenches her jaw anywhere near Gerrard. his hands ache, ache with am emptiness that he wants to soothe by holding onto Buck's shoulder, wants to feel the pulse of something alive under his thumb in this place that feels so dead at heart.

he sees May by the porch at Hen's house later, hours after they aren't in black anymore and there's only family inside trying to find each other closer.

"How's Chris?" she asks when he comes to sit beside her at the steps. her heels are gone and she's in boots now, a size larger than her own. Karen's maybe. a borrowed comfort.

"He's with Pepa," he rolls his shoulder a little, a faint twinge in them, a kink in the neck somehow, "He's not - funerals are tough."

He doesn't talk about the nightmares and anxiety. It's not about them.

"I've never lost a parent before," she blows out a breath after the words, a dull musing hum before she shakes her head a little, "I had three dads and a mom and somehow - four parents and I just never realized. I've never lost one before."

Maybe it is about them. Kids and parents and nightmares. Standing by the mourning spouse. Holding it together too much and too soon.

He wonders if Chris is sleeping now.

He doesn't tell May that she still has people. He's never lost a parent himself.

He wishes he had hugged Bobby once more. He wonders if Buck wants to be held too.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"He died alone," she says and Eddie - he wishes for so much. He's tired of wishing on second chances.

"I'm sorry," he confesses because that's the only truth he has, he's sorry, he's been sorry since the moment he first saw the mess on the news, "I'm so sorry."

May doesn't look at him but she shifts a little closer and Eddie let's her lean against his arm.

"I'm glad you weren't there," she says after a beat and Eddie hears the child in an adult's voice, "I'm glad it wasn't you too."

Because children lose parents, she doesn't say. It's not fair, she doesn't say.

He agrees though. He's glad he didn't die with Bobby. He's glad May still has parents.

It will never be the same or enough.

She exhales with a shaky breath and they stay there as Eddie watches the sunset with her, both letting the tears be silent for a moment.

There will be people to hold her up later. Eddie will have his own people to hold once he goes inside.

For a moment, he sits beside the girl who lost a father. Mourns a borrowed parent himself.