#message from Athena

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: Career Guidance from Pallas Athena

Top Left (Pile 1) , Top Right(Pile 2) Bottom Left (Pile 3) ,Bottom Right (Pile 4)

Pile 1: Current Challenges and Obstacles

The Tower: This card suggests that significant changes or disruptions may be occurring in your career path right now. Pallas Athena's message here is to embrace these changes as opportunities for growth and transformation. Trust in your wisdom and strategic thinking to navigate through any obstacles that arise.

Five of Pentacles: This card represents financial challenges or feelings of lack. Pallas Athena reminds you to tap into your resourcefulness and inner strength during difficult times. Remember that setbacks are temporary, and with perseverance and strategic planning, you can overcome any financial obstacles in your career.

Channeled Key words:Resilience and Adaptability

Action Steps to consider:

Embrace change and consider exploring new career paths or industries that align with your skills and interests.

Seek opportunities for financial stability through budgeting, saving, or exploring alternative sources of income.

Focus on building resilience and adapting to changes in the workplace environment.

Consider seeking support from mentors or career coaches to overcome obstacles and navigate challenges effectively.

.....................................................*****************************************

Pile 2: Guidance and Wisdom from Pallas Athena

The High Priestess: Pallas Athena's message here is to trust your intuition and inner wisdom when making career decisions. Quiet your mind and listen to the subtle guidance from within. Your intuition is a powerful tool that can lead you toward the right path in your career journey.

Ace of Swords: This card represents clarity of thought and new opportunities. Pallas Athena encourages you to approach your career with clear intentions and a strategic mindset. Stay focused on your goals, and be open to seizing new opportunities that come your way. Trust in your ability to manifest success through your intellect and determination.

Channeled Key Words:Networking and Relationship Building

Action Steps to consider:

Explore careers that involve intuition, spirituality, or working in fields such as counseling, coaching, or holistic healing.

Consider opportunities in education, research, or intellectual pursuits that allow you to leverage your analytical skills and strategic thinking.

Pursue roles that involve clear communication, writing, or public speaking, where you can share your insights and wisdom with others.

Embrace leadership opportunities where you can use your intuition and intellect to inspire and guide others toward success.

..............................................*********************************************

Pile 3: Opportunities and Potential

The Empress: This card symbolizes abundance, creativity, and nurturing energy. Pallas Athena's message here is that there are abundant opportunities for growth and success in your career. Embrace your creativity and tap into your nurturing instincts to cultivate a fulfilling and prosperous career path.

Ten of Cups: This card represents emotional fulfillment and harmony in your career life. Pallas Athena reminds you to prioritize your emotional well-being and seek fulfillment in your work. Follow your heart's desires and pursue career paths that align with your values and bring you joy and satisfaction.

Channeled Key Words: Continuous Learning and Skill Development

Action Steps to Consider:

Explore creative industries such as arts, design, fashion, or entertainment where you can express your artistic talents and creativity.

Consider careers in fields related to nurturing and caregiving, such as healthcare, counseling, or social work, where you can make a positive impact on others' lives.

Look for opportunities to create a harmonious work environment or start your own business venture where you can cultivate abundance and prosperity.

Pursue roles that prioritize work-life balance and prioritize emotional well-being, such as remote work, flexible scheduling, or positions with supportive company cultures.

...................................................*****************************************

Pile 4: Pursuit and Manifestation

The Magician: This card represents manifestation and taking action to create your desired reality. Pallas Athena's message here is to harness your innate talents and skills to manifest your career goals. Believe in your abilities and take decisive action toward your ambitions. With focus, determination, and strategic planning, you have the power to manifest success in your career endeavors.

Six of Wands: This card symbolizes victory, recognition, and achievement. Pallas Athena encourages you to celebrate your successes and accomplishments in your career journey. Be proud of how far you've come, and continue to strive for excellence with confidence and grace. Your strategic thinking and perseverance will lead you to even greater heights of success in your career.

Channeled Key Words: Self-Reflection and Exploration

Action Steps to Consider:

Take proactive steps to pursue your career goals, such as networking, furthering your education, or acquiring new skills relevant to your desired field.

Consider entrepreneurial ventures or freelance opportunities where you can take control of your career path and leverage your unique talents and abilities.

Set clear intentions and goals for your career and take consistent action toward manifesting your aspirations.

Seek opportunities for recognition and advancement in your current career path or explore avenues for professional growth and development that align with your long-term objectives.

[ochiody]

i think after odysseus leaves calypsos island athena should try to reach out to him and get hit with seven years worth of praying begging pleading screams cries sobs etc

[hermesmoly]

what are the famous cases of gods saving their loved ones from rape?

Well I think the most famous case is Ares killing Halirrhothius, Poseidon's son, for the assault on his daughter Alcippe. There's also Apollo and/or Artemis killing the giant Tityos for their mother Leto, Heracles with the aid of Zeus killing Porphyrion when he tried to violate Hera on the battlefield, and in one version Zeus killing Eurymedon for Hera who assaulted her when she was young and before they were married. (Zeus also kills Iasion in a version where Iasion and Demeter's relationship was not consensual and in one version kills Tityos for his former lover Leto)

Athena and Artemis also have cases of protecting their favorite maidens from rape by metamorphosis: Athena transformed Nyctimene into her owl familiar, the daughter of Coroneus into a crow after being pursued by Poseidon, and by Artemis Arethusa was turned into a holy spring after being chased by the river god Alpheios. There's also Britomartis who straight up was immortalized by Artemis after being pursued by King Minos and the fisherman Andromedes.

[bassguitarinablackt-shirt]

every song from epic the musical the troy saga is stuck in my brain. simultaneously. help me.

[gcthamqueen]

but we're running out of time

oh, all the echoes in my mind cry

there's blood on your lies

the sky's open wide

there is nowhere for you to hide

the hunter's moon is shining

i'm running with the wolves tonight

[stellaelillac]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　@trckstaer asked: " i have something to show you ,  if you have a moment . " – Phobos to Athena ! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

True be told, the goddess of wisdom and war didn’t have much time. Her father has requested her abilities in strategy ; the desk is full of big maps and scrolls, and Athena has one in her hands while she reads it. Not breaking concentration not even when the other god entered her office. When he spoke, stormy grey eyes finally lift up from the scroll but the goddess didn’t move from where she is. “ i do not have time, Phobos. ” Athena tells him. “ whatever it is— it better be important. ”

[tillytimeblog]

the back half of sea of monsters is super cute and full of percabeth moments, especially from annabeth’s perspective (aka the emotionally aware perspective)

-percy holds annabeth through her breakdown after the sirens in a bubble underwater, and talks her through it afterward

-percy falls asleep on a sleeping annabeth and the golden fleece as they’re riding back to miami, since the story is from percy’s pov we don’t know what happens while he’s asleep but it’s safe to say annabeth wakes up at some point and is happy to let percy lie on (cuddle with?) her until they reach the shore since no one wakes percy up until the hipocampi stop moving

-she doesn’t say it out loud but she totally is doubly impressed by two things percy does in like a 30 minute span once they get ashore: trust clarisse to fly home alone with the fleece, and sneakily iris message dionysus and trick luke into clearing chiron’s name to dionysus and the camp. annabeth says percy is ‘too nice’ to let clarisse leave with the fleece which i think is her admitting it’s a good idea she wouldn’t have thought of herself since trusting people who don’t treat her well doesn’t work out for her (see: chase, frederick), and percy tricking luke with the sword and monolouge to distract him from the iris message behind him is totally a plan worthy of athena

it’s no wonder she kisses him (on the cheek) after they win the chariot race

[lnlightning81]

Positive P2 [LN4]

Summary : Surprising Lando after a race with the results to your pregnancy test

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count:

Warning/s: Pregnancy, Talk of not being able to have kids

Watching Lando with kids has always been a beautiful sight. However, watching Lando with Mila and Athena was a totally different experience. There was a different connection watching the two of them. Normally, kids cried when they saw Lando because their hero was right in front of them, but with Mila and Athena, he was just ‘Lala’ and not Lando Norris. 

The video of Lando playing with Mila when she was just a little baby throwing his phone about the place had started to circulate your social media; it only made your baby fever start to grow.

You were due to meet Lando at the paddock as he had gone a little early for the media and you just wanted to lie in but it wasn’t until you felt ill that you messaged Lando asking if he had time to quickly come back to the hotel after stopping at the shop for something. To which he replied obviously still in that state of life where you could ask him to murder someone, and he would. 

There was very little chance you could actually be pregnant with not only you and Lando being extremely careful but with you being told that there was little chance of you ever getting pregnant throughout your life but with your baby fever and how you were feeling everything pointed towards that actually maybe coming true. 

Lando had wanted to wait and see the results but you knew that he couldn’t or he’d get fined so you forced him out of the hotel room telling him that he’d be the first person to know. Except he wouldn’t be. If the test came back positive, you had the perfect way to tell him. 

But when you saw that positive result that’s when you panicked, you never thought you’d actually see the day when that test actually came back positive after many years of being told it would never happen. 

Now, standing in the Mclaren motorhome, you still hadn't told Lando the results. You didn’t want to stress him out before a race. Never mind a race when he was starting on the front row with the chance of winning but you did tell Zak knowing the perfect way to tell him after a good or bad race and hopefully he’d be happy with the news. 

Lando finished P2 just as he started. No one was getting past Max Verstappen any time soon, so it was basically a win for him, and you knew he’d say that when asked about it. Zak waved you over, and you walked over to the pit wall standing behind him as he placed his headphones over your ears and pressed the radio button for Lando’s car. Nodding to you with a smile 

“Hey baby. That’s a positive P2” You hummed, hoping he’d catch on to what you were saying without Sky or F1TV or any other showings catching it. 

“Positive?” He asked with a frown. You could hear the frown on his face

“Wait? What are you doing on the radio?” Now very confused as to everything 

“Yep. Positive P2” You smiled

“Zak let me tell you your position for the day” You looked at Zak, who was smiling at you 

“Oh my god, Y/N. This is brilliant. I love you so much!” He exclaimed 

“I’ll see you at the podium baby” You gave Zak his headphones back 

“Got a podium to get to. Let’s go” He smiled, and you walked with him. Zak’s more than just the CEO to you and Lando. He was always a phone call away if anything went wrong or if you didn’t travel out to a race and couldn’t get a hold of Lando the next best person to call was Zak because he’d always answer. 

Zak would invite you, Lando, Oscar, and Lily out for food whenever he got the chance or would send you little gifts during Christmas or your birthday. He was kinda like a father figure to you both. Standing watching the podium next to Zak, you could see how big the smile on Lando’s face was compared to normal. 

Meeting Lando back in his driving room, you were instantly wrapped in a hug with his hands landing on your stomach as he kissed your neck from behind 

“I can’t believe it, baby. You’re serious, right? We’re going to have a baby? I got the message, right?” He asked, and you nodded 

“I’m very serious. We're going to have a baby. I’m so glad you got that message, though. I was a little worried you wouldn’t understand what I was saying” You smiled, turning in his arms as he kissed you properly this time. 

“Oh my god, a little baby. Oh love you’re parent’s. They’re gonna be so happy they’re getting a grandbaby” Lando was very excited as he basically jumped around the room like a little kid in a sweet shop. 

“If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to tell anyone for a few months” you whispered, sitting down on the couch in his driver's room. Lando looked over at you

“Whatever you want” He smiled, and you nodded 

“After being told I probably would never have kids, I don’t want to tell people. There’s a risk that everything might go wrong and I don’t want to tell everyone we’re having a kid to be reminded that actually we aren’t” You explained quietly and he wrapped you in a hug 

“Whatever you want to do we will do darling but I do know that I love you very much and whatever happens will never change my mind but we’ll do it together” He smiled kissing you around your face causing you to giggle from his stubble tickling your skin 

Tag List

@bearryyy

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

[rcmclachlan]

Return of the Mack

For @alchemistc. Hope you feel better soon!

At the fire academy, three things are beaten out of every trainee: fear, a normal sleep schedule, and the social influences that prevent one from intervening in the event of an emergency. Some have jokingly called the third one the Anti-Bystander Effect, because if someone needs assistance—whether it's to stop an assault, run into a burning building, or help a little old lady find a quarter she dropped—a firefighter will immediately rush in to save the day. It's a special brand of classical conditioning that instills an elevated sense of responsibility in every trainee, and it's paid in full by the state of California.

Which is why it's so odd for there to be three capable firefighters standing around doing nothing while there's an old man clearly in need of dire assistance. If the LAFD higher-ups knew they were actively choosing to watch the carnage unfold instead of lifting a finger to help, they'd all be shitcanned. 

Luckily, there's a fourth firefighter on the scene doing the absolute most. 

"I thought we made a pact to keep him from using his powers for evil," Eddie says, taking a dispassionate sip of his coffee. 

"Is it evil if he's actually using them in service of a greater good?" Hen's attention is half on what's going down and half on the Notes app on her phone, where she's typing out the week's grocery list. "You know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

Draped over the railing like his bones have melted, Chimney gives a sage nod. "He's like a one-man Suicide Squad." 

In the apparatus bay, they watch as Vincent Gerrard uses the distraction of B Shift heading home to duck behind one of the engines, most likely to regroup after being thoroughly ambushed the second he stepped into the station five minutes ago. He slumps back and breathes. The moment of weakness costs him: a grinning demon rounds the corner and makes a bee-line for him as though he can taste blood in the air.

"So, which one of you said 'spreadsheet' three times in a mirror?" Ravi sidles up next to Chimney and unwraps a breakfast burrito from Delia's. 

Chimney gives him the stink-eye. "I hope you brought enough for the whole class."

"Nope," Ravi says, taking a cheerful bite.

"None of us summoned him," Eddie says. He leans down to try and catch the conversation being had, but he's too high up. For a second, he thinks he hears the words 'crack whore' but it's probably a trick of the bay's acoustics. "He's everywhere, always, just watching and waiting for you to slip up. Like God."

"Or the Devil," Hen says in agreement.

"Or Santa," Chimney adds.

Ravi chews thoughtfully. "I thought we threw out all the clipboards. Who gave him that one?"

"Tommy," Eddie, Hen, and Chimney say through a simultaneous, long-suffering sigh. 

It's not just any clipboard. It's the king of clipboards. It's the only clipboard that has ever fucked. The thing is a navy blue polycarbonate beast with "Buckley 118" embossed in fire engine red on the back, and the clip looks like it was forged in the fires of Staples HQ. 

At the bi-weekly Beer and Bitch Night last Friday at Golden Road Pub, Tommy had pulled it out of a bag and presented it on one knee like he was proposing, or bestowing a sword to a king. The entire brewery was then given front-row seats to an intense game of tonsil hockey that nearly went into overtime until Eddie threatened to call Athena because Bobby looked like he was seriously reconsidering sobriety.

"Does he know what he's unleashed?" Ravi sounds genuinely curious. 

As if on cue, Chimney's, Eddie's, and Hen's phones chime with three incoming messages. 

T.K. 07:26am: Has it started? T.K. 07:26am: Remember: you promised one of you would film it T.K. 07:27am: I'm offering 3 nights of free babysitting to the first person who delivers

That last one is followed by a gif of J. Jonah Jameson shouting "Bring me Spiderman!"

Hen frowns down at her phone. "Who the hell is that?"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Chimney mutters.

H.W. 07:28am: Why are you so desperate for video?  E.D. 07:28am: What 40-something year old still pinky swears? H.H. 07:28am: Clipboard Buck better not be a weird sex thing for you, Kinard

Tommy's typing indicator appears, then disappears. Then appears and disappears again. Then appears—

"Yeah, no." Chimney hastily pockets his phone. "Those two were made in a lab for each other, I swear to god."

Down in the bay, Gerrard has moved to stand almost directly underneath them. While they can't hear what Gerrard says to Melanie Wu, an electrician so talented she could probably take down the entire grid with her eyes closed, that puts such a dour expression on her face, they can hear it when Buck, popping up behind Gerrard like an insane Jack-in-the-box, says, "Don't worry, Melanie! This is something to bring up during Thursday's workplace conflict seminar."

"What seminar?!"

Buck isn't cowed. He taps his clipboard and says, "The one I scheduled with Chief Alonso. You know, the mandatory one we all need to do in order to keep our certification—well, we'll keep it as long as nothing comes up during the seminar that might call into question our ability to do the job."

There's a charged moment where it almost looks like Gerrard might take a swing at Buck, but then he notices the audience hanging above him like a Greek chorus and shouts, "Someone'd better top off the fuel and DEF or—"

"Already done, Cap." Buck makes a show of turning to the second page on his clipboard and lists off, "All fuel, DEF, oil, and coolant are set. Tires have been aired up. Hoses have been drained and cleaned, and re-rolled. Engines were all waxed yesterday, all medical supplies have been inventoried and stocked, and I've made a list of the harnesses and cutting torches that need replacing. Just need you to sign off on everything. Sir."

The ingratiating smile on Buck's face would fool even the wiliest of senior officers, and Gerrard himself looks like even he's not sure if what just happened was disrespectful, but they know better. 

"Diabolical," Ravi whispers, awed. 

Hissing through his teeth, Gerrard spins on his heel and storms away in the direction of the little office in the administrative section of the firehouse where he's taken to holing up like a miserable groundhog until they get a call that forces him back out. If he sees his shadow on the firehouse wall, it's six more hours of bullshit.

As soon as he's gone, all the firefighters that had stopped to watch the show burst into laughter and applause, and Buck cracks up, taking sweeping bows and blowing kisses to his adoring fans. 

Chimney rolls his eyes and looks to see what Hen's expression is doing, because no one gives good face like she does, but she's holding her phone in a way that clearly means—

"You're filming this?" Chimney demands, betrayed.

She gives an unrepentant shrug. "Three nights of free babysitting? I'm not proud."

"You do know this means Buck's going to get laid and be absolutely insufferable about it, right?"

"Three nights," Hen bites out through very audible regret.

Buck looks up, flashes a grin, and the second he clocks the phone he salutes it with the clipboard. Then he struts after Gerrard, calling almost lazily, "Cap, wait up! I wanted to talk about setting up a mock exam for everyone who's planning on taking the TCFP D/O!"

They all watch him go. Silently, Hen sends off the video with the air of someone about to make a drug drop. 

"So, when does Taylor Kelly's exposé come out again?" Eddie makes a dubious face in the direction of the administrative offices. "Because I don't know that Gerrard won't off himself before it does."

"We win either way," Chimney points out. 

"It comes out next Monday," Hen says, slipping her phone into her pocket and elbowing Chimney in the arm on her way to the stairs. "Karen and I are hosting a watch party that night and you're all invited."

Ravi beams. "Thanks, Hen. I'll definitely be there."

"And you'll be bringing dinner from Taco Azteca—for everybody. Make sure you get enough carne," Chimney calls over his shoulder as he follows Hen. 

"I'm not a probie anymore," Ravi whines. "You can't haze me like this."

Snickering, Eddie pats him on the shoulder and says, "You do this and I'll make sure you're not sitting anywhere near Buck and Tommy when Taylor drops the bomb about Gerrard and Ortiz."

"Extra al pastor and buche it is!"

[peppermintquartz]

Tommy must have been staring at his phone for far too long, because Donato pounces on him (metaphorically) in the dining area.

"I go on leave for a week and you flew a chopper into a hurricane?" Donato exclaims, punching him in the bicep.

"Ow," Tommy says out of habit. "The hurricane was mostly over by then, actually."

Donato huffs. "The things you get up to without my calming influence, Kinard."

Putting down his phone, Tommy levels a stare at his friend. "Last I remember, you're the one who scaled a cliff sans harness to get to a scared kid."

"And got chewed up for it after," Donato says brightly, holding up a finger. Her voice drops. "Seriously though. What's the brass gonna do about you guys?"

"Hopefully? Nothing. There's enough positive publicity that's got Simpson off our asses, so I'm hoping it'll blow over."

"Melton says you might be grounded for some time."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Tommy sighs and leans back in his chair. "As long as I'm not fired, I'm ok with the consequences." His lips twitch into a smile. "You'd have liked it though. I got to land the bird on an upside down cruise ship, in a storm."

"Oh fuck you, Kinard, you lucky bastard." Donato grins, her blonde bob bouncing as she jumps to her feet. "You're buying me lunch, by the way."

"Why?"

"Because you love me," she says, laughing as she jogs off to bother someone else. "Mentaiko bowl, you know the one!"

Tommy shakes his head fondly. He didn't know what about him had attracted Lucy Donato's friendship, but her effervescent energy always brightens up his day.

Which still doesn't help with Tommy's dilemma, which is one leggy firefighter named Evan Buckley. His sunny demeanor and inexplicably funny chatter in the middle of a helicopter heist and dangerous rescue had helped Tommy stay focused on the task. Afterwards, on the return journey, Tommy, Howie, Hen, Athena and Bobby caught up with one another, and both Eddie and Evan had been there, joining in the conversation whenever they can.

Tommy hopes no one actually saw him staring at Evan most of the time. It helped that they had sat opposite each other, and Evan's eyes had been so, so blue, the color of a clear summer sky, and his smile radiant. Of course it was easy to get numbers from everyone then - Tommy needed to update the ones for Athena and Bobby, and he added Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley into his contacts.

Eddie texted him the very next day asking if Tommy's up for a quick visit to the Diaz household, because his son Christopher wanted to meet the pilot who helped save Captain Nash, and Tommy decided that, heck it, he could do with some new friends, and went.

And for the next hour or so, he listened to Christopher wax rhapsodic about "my friend Buck", how brave and funny and clever Buck is, how selfless, how he rescued Chris during the tsunami, how good a friend he was, how he loved taking Chris to the zoo and built him a structure so that Chris could skateboard, how the lightning strike gave him insane math powers, how good a cook he is...

And the photos Chris shared about Evan all show Evan grinning happily, as if there's nothing else he'd rather be doing than be with Christopher and Eddie.

For a moment Tommy had thought that Eddie and Evan were an item, until Marisol showed up at the house and kissed Eddie in the kitchen. The relief Tommy felt is disproportionate to how much he knew Evan. Which is ridiculous - Evan might have a partner already, or might not be into men, and Evan hasn't ever texted Tommy yet. Eddie's already sending dozens of messages about the upcoming reunification fight.

The phone in Tommy's hands suddenly rings and he almost drops it in shock. Cursing, he quickly swipes up to answer. "Hello, this is Kinard."

"Oh, uh, hi Tommy. It's Evan. Buckley. E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy swallows his surprise even as a huge smile blossoms on his face. "Hey. I wasn't, um, expecting you to call."

Evan chuckles. Is that nervousness in his voice? "Listen. Um, I was, uh, I was wondering if you gave, like, tours? Of the station?"

Tommy's heart skips a beat. Does this mean Evan wants to transfer to Harbor? Then he realizes it's been too long since the question so he hastily says, "Yeah, yes. I could show you around, if you want."

It's a good thing he's not hooked up to anything measuring his pulse. Tommy thinks his heart may jump out of his chest.

On the other end of the line, Evan says, "Great! Uh, you-you have my number so. Text me possible dates and times to go over?"

"Sure," Tommy replies, his mouth dry. He thinks about fawn-colored hair, blue eyes, red lips. He swallows again. "See you soon, Evan."

"See you soon, Tommy."

[thatbloodymuggle]

MASTERMIND (ii)

TWO - FALLING WATER

SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.

PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: language, smut, oral (f receiving)

The memories of the night before come crashing down over you before your eyes even open the next morning. As you stir from your restless sleep, you can still smell the cedar of the blazing bonfire, hear the waltz of the orchestra, and feel Eris’s lips ghosting over your neck. Your eyes flutter open, and you lazily run a hand over your face. You flinch at the cool feeling of metal against your cheek, all grogginess gone as you look down at your hand. The silver of Eris’s ring still sits proudly on your thumb–a reminder that you hadn’t imagined last night’s events.

Autumn Court treating you well, my little liaison?

You jolt abruptly at the sound of Rhys’s voice flooding your mind.

Well enough, you reply as you haul yourself from the creaky bed.

Any updates? He questions.

The dust-covered floor is cold underneath your feet as you pad to the bathroom. I made initial contact last night, you reply. Your cheeks warm as you will away any thoughts about the details of your initial contact. 

Did he take the bait?

Like a fish, you hum over the connection. 

His deep laugh fills your mind, Good. Tread carefully.

You roll your eyes and send over one last message before putting up your mental barriers. Will do, oh mighty High Lord.

Right on cue, your stomach grumbles. A hunger pain washes over you, and you glance toward the kitchenette with a frown. You hadn’t even realized that the last time you ate a proper meal was in the Night Court before your departure yesterday. You hastily wipe the sleep from your face and prepare yourself for the day ahead. Once you deem yourself presentable enough, you throw a cloak over your shoulders and head out into the forest towards the town. Another wave of hunger washes over you, prompting you to winnow rather than walk.

A sweet aroma of clover and fire smoke tickles at your nose as you land in the middle of the small-town square. A soft smile graces your features as you take in the familiar surroundings–you have always loved the colonial architecture of the Autumn Court. The saltbox houses of varying sizes and colors are perfectly mismatched, with wooden ‘Open’ signs hanging in each window. You make your way down the cobblestone path, an empty basket in hand, and begin your window shopping. 

By noon, your basket is nearly overflowing with a variety of goods ranging from freshly baked pastries to perfectly ripened apples. After several hours of flashing smiles and playing the part of Athena Ellesmere flawlessly, your social battery is drained, to say the least. All you want is to curl up in front of the fireplace in your cabin and read one of the many books you’ve packed. But you have one more stop to make.

A bell jingles as you push open the mahogany door of the wheat and grain store. You barely close it behind you before you are bombarded with a familiar, cheerful voice.

“Athena!”

You fight through your exhaustion and force a wide smile onto your face as you turn to Willow. Her red hair is slightly duller than much of the Autumn Court residents–more of a strawberry blonde. But her green eyes are strikingly bright, reminding you of the emerald of Eris’s shirt last night.

You set down your basket and greet her with an embrace, “It’s good to see you, Willow.”

“You’ve settled in well?” she chirps as she pulls away with a grin.

You nod with a soft smile, “For the most part. I was just picking up some things for my stay, but I had to stop in.”

The faerie smiles and opens her mouth to reply but pauses at the sound of the door creaking behind her. You tense as a burly male enters the shop from the backdoor. Finnian is far from the worst Autumn Court male you have encountered–but he certainly isn’t pleasant either. 

A bitter taste floods your mouth as you force your head into a greeting bow for the male before you, as per Autumn Court custom. As beautiful as the land is, you could never fathom living in a society in which females are treated with such little respect. Still, you conceal your distaste as you greet him, “Hello, Finnian.”

He merely grunts and nods in greeting. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Your father couldn’t come himself?” he sneers.

You dig your nails into your palms, but your sickly-sweet smile doesn’t falter, “Unfortunately, no. I’ll be doing his bids once again.”

Finnian grunts in disapproval but doesn’t press the subject further. Instead, he nods his head at his wife expectantly. Willow turns to you with an apologetic smile, “I should really get back to work. But I would love it if you’d stop in during my lunch break one of these days.”

Your smile stretches wider, your cheeks burning in protest, as you nod and pick up your basket, “Yes, of course. It was good seeing you both.”

You all but run out of the store and let out a sigh of relief when you finally drop the plastic smile. “Stupid Autumn Court males and their fragile egos,” you grumble to yourself. You were already exhausted–but that unpleasant interaction was the cherry on top of a draining morning. 

With your basket nearly overflowing with goodies, you decide against winnowing. So, with a long sigh, you begin your stride back to your cabin. The basket weighs heavily on your arm, but you allow the wind nipping at your nose to distract you from the dull ache. As you leave the small town behind you and enter the forest, you immerse yourself in the kaleidoscope of autumn colors. 

And as you study the unique bend and curve of each tree truck, you can’t help but think about your mother. The reds reminded you of her velvet dresses. The yellows were her radiant skin when the sun rays shone through the library windows. The browns reflected her kind eyes, warm like chocolate. She would have loved this. 

Your back stiffens as you feel a lingering presence behind you. You don’t dare look back, but your ears perk up. Sure enough, a twig crunches to your left.  Who the hell is watching you? A wave of dread rushes over you, but you continue forward. You make sure the rhythm of your steps doesn’t falter, as to not alert your stalker to your awareness of their presence. Your hand slowly trails to the pocket of your cloak, and you subtly brandish a pocket-sized dagger Azriel gifted you last Starfall. In one swift motion, you spin around, drop your basket of goodies, and hold the dagger against the throat of your stalker. 

Your heart sinks at the sight of bright, amber eyes staring back at you. 

“Now this isn’t a very polite manner of greeting, is it Little Bird?” Eris’s lips curl into a roguish smile despite the metal pressed tightly against his throat.

The initial shock rolls over you and you drop the dagger. A hot flush crawls up your neck and you drop to your knees to gather the apples that had spilled out of your basket to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Well, it isn’t very polite to sneak up on people, is it?” you counter.

Just as your fingers graze the last apple, he swoops down and wraps his hand over yours atop the piece of fruit. You still as he rolls his thumb over the silver ring sitting snugly on yours.

“And it isn’t very polite to steal,” he muses, “But I suppose I should’ve known better. After all, birds are drawn to shiny things.”

You snatch your hand away, and Eris uses the opportunity to grab the apple before swiftly rising to his full height. You watch, dumbfounded, as he takes a large bite, a bit of juice dribbling down his chin. He wipes it away with a knowing smirk, and the blush crawling up your neck reaches your cheeks. Your mind screams at you, get it together. You blink, taking a moment to collect yourself, before standing up on wobbly legs.

“Fox got your tongue?” he taunts.

Your lips part at the way his tongue darts out to catch another bit of juice dribbling out the corner of his mouth. Your eyes scan down his body, drinking in his appearance. Gone is the emerald silk shirt from the night before, and in its place a sage vest atop a cream, long-sleeve shirt with billowing sleeves. Even in this more casual attire, he still exudes a certain elegance. 

Finally, you are able to formulate words, “Your trousers are undone.”

His brows furrow as he looks down, and you snatch the half-eaten apple from his unsuspecting hand. You take a large bite and relish in the sweetness of the fruit. Eris grins like a cheshire cat as he realizes your play. A hearty chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“Perhaps I misjudged you,” he drawls, “You thieve like a vixen.”

You finish off the apple with a satisfied hum and toss the core into the woods, away from the dirt path. “I would think that centuries of existence would teach you better than to judge a book by its cover,” you quip, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have business to attend to.”

You turn on your heel and continue your stride along the winding path. To no surprise, Eris falls into step beside you.

“And what business may that be?” he inquires.

A small smile twitches at your lips, “You’re nosy today,” you tease, but answer his query, nonetheless, “Some correspondences for my father. He’s sent me here to solidify some trade agreements with the harvest season beginning.”

“A merchant’s daughter,” Eris wonders aloud, “Not exactly what I had you pegged for.”

You arch a brow and tilt your head to face him, “And what is it that you had me pegged for?”

He takes the heavy basket from your arm, ignoring your protests, “A scholar. Or perhaps a spy.”

It takes everything in you not to react to his second guess, even though his tone is teasing. Instead, you reply coolly, “Well I’m also here to do some research. I have some ideas about some more efficient trade routes, but I haven’t been able to find any library with an adequate collection of atlases.”

Eris hums in thought, and you pray he plays into your hand, “I may be able to grant you access to the Forest House library,” you force down your proud grin, “But for a price.” 

You don’t bother hiding the exaggerated roll of your eyes, “And what might that be?”

Your heart skips a beat as he steps into your path, halting you abruptly. His head dips and you suck in a breath at his proximity. You find yourself mesmerized by the strong bridge of his nose, the fullness of his lips, as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His delicate touch sends a shiver up your spine.

“A few hours of your time. I’d like to show you a place more befitting of your beauty than that little ransack cabin you’ve been caged in. Somewhere you can spread your wings, Little Bird,” he breathes.

You gulp, eyes wide at his forwardness–not to mention his inadvertent admission that he has been watching you. You all but melt into the touch of his calloused fingers as they trail down the side of your face before falling back at his side. His lips curl with amusement as you fumble for words.

“Okay,” you lamely reply.

He hums, satisfied by your answer. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans closer and presses his lips against your cheek. His kiss is gentle, but it lingers in a tortuous manner that leaves you wanting more as he pulls away. Warm eyes wink at you as he purrs, “Till next time, Little Bird.”

And with that, he vanishes, winnowing away before you can catch your breath. Your heart races as you lift a hand to your face, ghosting your fingers over the spot on your cheek where his lips had been. He used your own move against you, and you can’t decide if you are awed or terrified–or both. But whatever the feeling, a dark part of you revels in it.

Guilt crashes over you at the realization;  just as fierce as the unbridled desire that pools in the pit of your stomach. Your feet move with a mind of their own as your mind spirals. You should not be enjoying this. As much as Rhys may try to hold on to his feeble alliance with him, Eris is the enemy. And your indulgence in his game of seduction is a grave betrayal to not only your court, but to your sister. 

You aren’t conscious of your movements as you enter your ramshackle cabin. Methodically, you kick off your boots, set down your basket, and shed your heavy cloak. You slip out of your burnt orange dress and move to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your ears. The silver ring glittering on your thumb is suddenly scorching, and you hastily take it off, throwing it onto the counter. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you desperately search your own features for some semblance of stability; some sort of reminder of what you’re here to do. You turn to the side and raise your arm, brushing your hand over the underside of your breast.

A sigh of relief passes through your lips as the glamour you’ve worn since you stepped foot in the Autumn Court fades, and your tattoo stares back at you: the Night Court insignia, identical to that worn by the other members of the inner circle. But unlike the others, the Day Court sun shines bright behind the Illyrian Mountain. You trace the lines, and the tension in your shoulders subsides.

Despite the undeniable effect Eris has over you, you know where your loyalty and your love lies. No matter how wily the fox may be. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Two days. Two excruciatingly long days full of fake bargaining, plastic smiles, and arrogant males have passed–and Eris hasn’t shown his face. Perhaps he got tied up with some court politics, or more likely, he forgot entirely. Whatever the case, you are not pleased, to say the least. Nor is Rhys. The beauty of the Autumn Court is the only thing that has kept you sane. But even in all its charm, you are growing restless. And you’re not sure how much longer you can wait around, itching to play.

Desperate to blow off some steam, you find yourself venturing far into the woods to mindlessly use your powers. You know it’s a risk–if anyone were to catch wind of your Night or Day Court powers, it could very possibly blow your entire cover. But if you don’t do something, you may simply die of boredom. You lose track of time as you conjure light from your fingertips into the trees above, slink into the shadows, and winnow in circles. Light, shadow, winnow, repeat. Over and over again, until the adrenaline passes, and exhaustion sets in. 

Sweat beads at your brow as you winnow, once, twice, three times more before you finally land in front of your cabin. Your legs wobble as you stumble towards the front door. Despite your tired limbs, you haven’t felt so awake since you first set foot in the Autumn Court. 

You are minutes away from collapsing on your rickety bed and reading yourself to sleep. So, imagine your surprise when you enter and find a head of flaming red hair seated on top of it. 

Eris isn’t just seated–he’s lounging on your bed, legs crossed, as if he owns it. His eyes don’t so much as shift in your direction, as he appears to be immersed in one of your books. You squint at the title, and your eyes widen with horror as it clicks. He’s reading one of Nesta’s books. Those stupid, cursed, little smut books she can’t seem to stop shoving down your throat.

“I knew you were filthy, Little Bird, but I didn’t think you were this filthy,” Eris muses.

You’re sure your cheeks are now matching the color of his hair as you rush forward and snatch the book from his hands. His eyes finally meet yours, and if your magic wasn’t completely drained, you would slip into the shadows without a second thought. He wears a vicious grin and playful delight dances in the irises of his eyes. 

“It’s not mine,” you mumble, averting your own eyes from his punishing gaze.

He tuts, “I don’t like liars, Birdie. It’s okay to admit you need a little release sometimes. Everyone does. Although, when I need a little release, I usually–”

“What are you doing here?” you hiss, the blush on your cheeks burning even brighter than before.

He holds his hands coyly across his chest and taps his index fingers together in a taunting motion, “You promised me a few hours of your time–or did you forget?”

You narrow your eyes and clutch the book tightly to your chest, as if the damage hasn’t already been done, “A little heads up would have been nice. You can’t just barge in here as you please.”

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and rises, stalking closer to you. You tense as he stops right in front of you and tilts your chin up softly, so your eyes meet his, “I am a busy man. Forgive me, darling.”

He runs his tongue along his teeth with a feline smile as he watches you audibly gulp. 

“Where are we going?” you lamely ask.

He clicks his tongue in his mouth before replying, “Now if I tell you that will ruin all the fun.”

You roll your eyes and jerk yourself out of his hold, “Can you at least tell me what attire would be appropriate?”

“What you’re wearing is fine. But I don’t think green is your color,” he banters.

Your glare speaks louder than words.

“Although,” he grasps your hand in his and brandishes a familiar, silver ring from his pocket, “You seem to have forgotten your little trophy.”

You watch as he slides the ring back onto your thumb. You frown and flick your eyes up towards his, “You can have it back.”

Eris shakes his head, “I’d like it if you wore it–at least throughout your stay here,” he pauses, before continuing, “Can you promise me you won’t take it off again?”

Although the playful glint in his eye remains, it falters for a fraction of a moment, revealing an emotion you can’t quite place your finger on–something dark. But you decide against pushing the subject. You simply nod, and he hums in satisfaction.

“Well let’s get moving then. Unless you’d rather stay here and continue reading your filthy little–”

“I’m moving,” you effectively cut Eris off, willing the blush not to return to your cheeks. You fight the urge to roll your eyes when you feel his gaze on your ass as you exit the cabin. “Are we walking?” you send him a glance over your shoulder.

“Too far,” he falls into step beside you, “We’ll winnow.”

Your shoulders tense, and you are suddenly reminded of the aching in your body from running your magic dry earlier. You halt abruptly and turn to face him fully, “I can’t.”

Eris’s arches a brow in incredulity, “I just heard you winnow not even 10 minutes ago.”

A sheepish smile takes over your face and you reply as nonchalantly as possible, “I’m too tired. I was, erm, blowing off some steam earlier—I don’t think I could even winnow to the other side of the cabin right now.”

His eyes narrow slightly as he analyzes your answer, “Blowing off steam?”

You cringe internally and send the Autumn Court heir a nervous smile, “You know, just winnowing around.” 

His scrutinizing gaze narrows further, “So you were just winnowing around in circles?”

“Yes.”

“And now you can’t winnow anymore?”

“Correct.”

It’s the truth—just not all of it.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain your giggle. You didn’t think about how ridiculous it would sound; winnowing around to burn off energy, much like a dog chasing its own tail. As you chuckle quietly to yourself, the playful grin returns to Eris’s face. 

“You’re a strange little thing,” he laughs, and reaches out his hand to you.

You gaze at his waiting hand, and tentatively intertwine your fingers with his before you can talk yourself out of it. A familiar rush of adrenaline surges through you as he winnows you both, the world twisting and folding around you. 

You don’t attempt to contain your gasp at the sight before you. In-between a crowd of beautiful orange and red-leafed trees lies a waterfall unlike any you’ve seen before. In fact, this may very well be the first waterfall you’ve ever seen. It is modestly sized, and flows down several layers of terraced, moss-covered rock; but the beauty, the intoxicating smell, is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. The cherry on top of the cake is the small watermill cottage at the creek bend, just where the water falls off. The scene looks like something out of an art museum. Captivated, you edge towards the water until the mist tickles your nose.

“It’s…breath-taking,” you mumble, vaguely aware of Eris lingering beside you.

While you gaze is fixed on the scene before you, his is set on you. He can’t help but study the way your lips part in awe, your familiar eyes widen in wonderment—like you’re experiencing the world for the first time.

“It is,” he mumbles in response, although his gaze remains trained on you.

He follows you quietly—patiently—as you wander closer to the water’s edge. You run your fingertips along each moss-covered rock, trying to engrain every small detail into your memory. You crouch down to dip your hand into the blue-green water, but jolt back at the frigid temperature. 

“Where are we?” you cock your head to the side, finally peeling your eyes away from the picturesque scene.

Eris leans against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his white undershirt billow softly in the breeze. “Up North. Closer to the Winter Court border,” his deep voice rumbles over the sound of the waterfall, “I come here when I need to think.”

“I take it the house is yours?” you gesture towards the small cottage.

“More or less. It was a part of my mother’s estate once; a very long time ago,” he pushes off the tree and stalks closer to you, “It’s not a secret, but it’s…private. When I don’t want to be found, or simply need space, it’s unlikely anyone will look here.”

“Do you hide from your family often?” you hum nonchalantly.

Eris bristles slightly at your question, but replies coolly, “Sometimes. They have a tendency to be…suffocating.”

You know that feeling all too well—but you simply nod, avoiding the slippery slope of divulging your own past.  You sit down on a nearby tree stump, and gaze out at the waterfall as you ask, “Are you close with your brothers?”

He strides towards you and perches himself atop a large boulder, “In some ways, yes. But being heir to the throne doesn’t afford me the luxury of friends.”

You open your mouth to fire yet another question, but he cuts you off with an impish smile, “You’re curious today, Little Bird. It doesn’t seem fair that you know so much about me, and I know so little about you.”

“You know my name. And you choose not to use it,” you counter with an arched brow.

“Would you like me to?” he asks. 

A simple question should afford a simple answer. But for some reason, his query makes the hair on your arms stand on end. You should say yes. You shouldn’t let silly little pet names distract you from the work you’re here to do. Say yes.

“No.”

He hums in satisfaction, and you avoid his gaze by training your eyes back onto the waterfall. From your peripheral, you can see Eris rise from his spot on the boulder. He moves out of your line of vision, and you can hear the rustling of fabric behind you. Your curiosity screams at you to look back; but your stubbornness keeps your head trained forward. 

Suddenly, the rustling stops. Just as you’re about to give into your curiosity and turn around, a nearly-naked Eris bounds past you, towards the water, and dives gracefully in. Your jaw drops as you let out an involuntary squeal, trying (and failing) to shield yourself from the splash.

“Are you insane?” you shriek as soon as his head pops back up out of the water.

He shakes his hair like a dog and wipes a hand over his face with a childish grin. You can’t help but laugh at the sight, causing his toothy grin to widen even further.

“Only slightly,” he retorts, head bobbing as he treads water, “Why don’t you join me?”

You shake your head vigorously, “Absolutely not. I’m not in the mood to freeze to death.”

“Come on, Little Bird. It’s not that cold,” he taunts, “How about we play a game?”

He swims closer and you subconsciously lean forward. A glint of mischief dances in your eyes as you ask, “What sort of game?”

He raises his arms out of the water and folds them across a rock along the edge. You gulp at the sight of his broad shoulders and can’t help but study the way his muscles ripple as he moves. 

“Since you’re so privy to asking me questions,” he drums his fingers along the rock, “I get to ask you five.”

You fold your arms across your chest, “That’s it?”

A devilish grin dances across his lips, “If you fail to answer any question, you join me in here.”

Your eyes narrow into a glare, but your smile betrays you, “Three questions.”

“Four.”

“Fine,” you relent.

Eris wades gently through the water in thought before speaking up again, “What’s your greatest fear?”

Your mouth moves before you brain can catch up, “Being trapped—not like in a traditional claustrophobia sort of way, but in the sense that I can’t do what I want, move as I please.”

Eris’s head tilts as he mulls over your response before asking another question, “What’s your biggest dream?”

Again, your mouth moves with a mind of its own, “I want to travel the world—see every little piece of Prythian, and when I run out of land, explore the seas.”

“I thought your father is a merchant—you don’t travel with him?”

Your heart skips a beat as you realize your misstep. But, like the professional Azriel has trained you to be, you don’t so much as twitch an eye to show your error. “I only travel to the mainland of each Court to do is biddings for him. I haven’t seen much—really anything—beyond that,” you maintain a steady voice as you lie through your teeth, “Two more questions.”

Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he scans your face. Your answer seems too…rehearsed. But you’ve shown absolutely no indication of lying. Finally, he asks, “What about your mother?”

Your detached exterior falters. Your lips dip ever so slightly into a frown. Eris watches intently. Finally, you muster a response, “She died during Amarantha’s crusade.”

Eris frowns and his head dips slightly—a sign of respect, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Your lips part at the motion. It is extremely uncharacteristic of Autumn Court males to treat females with such respect. In fact, Eris has surprised you with every single one of your interactions. Coming into this, you knew that he wasn’t a typical male, considering he wants Beron dead. But you weren’t quite prepared for just how, well, normal he is.

“Thank you,” you finally reply with sincerity. Your lips curl into a soft smile, one which you don’t have to force, as you change the subject, “Last question.”

 He matches your smile and swims backwards, dipping his hair under water, “I’ve better make it good then.”

You watch as he swims to and fro, taking his sweet time deciding what nonsense he will inevitably throw your way. His questions have been far too calm and calculated thus far; and you haven’t refused one. 

Right on cue, Eris swims towards you with a smile befitting of the devil. You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and the pitchfork tail wagging behind him.

“Does the carpet match the drapes?”

You were expecting nonsense. But you aren’t sure if anything could have prepared you for that.

Your face pales and you drop your jaw in utter shock. His is nearly as red as his hair as he tries, and fails, to contain his laughter. Suddenly, the switch flips and you face contorts into disgust.

“You are swine, Eris Vanserra. Filthy, perverted swine,” you screech as you leap from your tree stump.

He howls in laughter, and you want nothing more than to wring his neck. You turn swiftly on your heel and send him a crude gesture over your shoulder as you storm away.

“Oh, come back, Little Bird! I was only teasing,” tears spill from the corners of his eyes as he tries to calm himself down.

You pause and turn back towards him. Your glare is as icy as Nesta’s as you stare at him. He has never looked more like a fox through his snickering laughter. He swims to the edge of the water and beckons you forward. Your feet remain planted in the ground, “You promise?”

Tears of delight well again in his amber eyes as he replies, “Yes. I don’t care if they match.”

Your lips curl into a vicious snarl and you grab a rock, chucking it as hard as you can towards him. He barely dodges the flying stone through his hysterics. “Okay, okay, I promise I’m done now,” he wheezes.

You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for him to calm down. Finally, his manic laughter ceases, and he simply looks at you with a faux apologetic smile.

“Well come on, then.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip with a frown, “I’m not taking off my clothes.”

“If you swim in that dress you’ll drown,” he nods his head at the heavy material, “At least put on my shirt.”

You hesitate as you eye the cream, long-sleeved button-down shirt tossed haphazardly onto the forest floor. You reach down to pick it up and run your hands over the soft linen material. He senses your hesitation and adds, “I’ll turn around, if you’d like.”

Your eyes flick towards him, and true to his word, he turns and swims in the opposite direction. Still, you wait until he’s on the other end of the stream before stepping behind a tree and stripping off your dress. The breeze nips at your bare skin, and you shiver at the sensation. You take off layer after layer until you are left in your bra and panties. You hastily slide into Eris’s shirt and button it up all the way. It provides ample coverage, falling nearly to your knees—but you’re still freezing. And you can’t imagine the water will be any more pleasant. 

“Come on, Little Bird. I won’t wait all day,” Eris whines, the nearness of his voice indicating that he had finished his lap around the water. 

Finally, you step out of the trees. His Adam’s apple bobs at the image of you in his shirt. He doesn’t hide the way his eyes drift, scanning down your bare legs. A blush creeps up your neck, and before he can make a comment about your near nakedness, you set into a sprint and leap.

Your regret your decision before you even hit the water. And you want to kill Eris when you do. 

“It’s fucking freezing!” you wail the second your head breaks through the surface. You wipe the water from your eyes through a series of hyperventilating gasps, your body working hard to generate some kind of warmth. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you repeat your new mantra over and over again, unwanted tears pricking at the corners of your narrowed eyes.

“Come here,” he beckons you forward.

You shake your head in obstinance.

Eris rolls his eyes at your childlike behavior. He swims towards you in three graceful strokes. You scramble backwards in the water, but he is a much more skilled swimmer than you. 

“Let me help you,” his voice his sweet like honey. You know this is his game—poke and prod until you bleed, and then lick the wounds clean.

You shake your head again and move to swim away, but he lunges before you can escape.

Instant, sweet, warm relief.

You nearly moan as his arms wrap around your body and pull you into his chest. He is hot—literally and figuratively. His chest burns like a furnace, and you wrap your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him even closer. You can feel him smiling as you nestle your head into the crook of his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. His legs work hard underneath the surface, keeping you both upright.

“Better?” he coos.

You simply grunt into his shoulder and nod.

His chuckle reverberates through your body, warming you even more. You are puddy in his hands, but right now, you couldn’t care less. You don’t utter a word as you relish in his warmth. The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, filled only by the distant rush of the waterfall and the water lapping up against your bodies. Just as you let your eyes flutter shut, the silence is severed by his rumbling voice.

“As much as I love your sharp tongue, Little Bird, I quite like you like this—sweet, soft, and pliant in my arms.”

You frown at the smugness in his tone and move to push away, but he wraps his arms around you even tighter.

“I’m still upset with you,” you grumble petulantly into his shoulder.

The tension in your shoulders eases as he presses his lips to the top of your head. You involuntarily shudder as he mumbles softly into your hair, “I’m sorry, Little Bird. Can I make it up to you?”

His hands move from underneath your thighs, and you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Your breath hitches as he slowly trails his hands up over the curve of your hips. You are suddenly aware of how his button-down shirt floats to the surface, leaving your body almost completely exposed under the water. His hands still at the dip of your waist, and he rubs circles into your skin with his thumbs. His left hand leaves, and you flinch as it grazes the side of your neck, gently pushing your hair aside. Your heart beats frantically as he ghosts his lips along your sensitive skin. His open-mouthed kisses become firmer, but remain tentative; as if he’s giving you the opportunity to stop him. 

Slowly, you raise your head from the crook of his neck. Your eyes are wide, pupils blown as your gaze cautiously shifts upwards. You study the rise and fall of his chest, the shift of his jaw, before finally meeting the amber of his eyes. Your noses are millimeters apart—far too close for comfort, but you’re frozen in place.

Your lips part as his left hand reaches upwards again, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Any façade of apathy is long gone as your eyes become a window to your soul: curiosity, trepidation, but above all, an unwavering desire. Your body moves on its own accord as you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Eris’s neck. The tip of your nose bumps against his, and that’s all it takes for him to lurch forward and close the gap between you.

Your mind typically works in overdrive. But the moment Eris’s lips meet yours, it empties entirely. His lips are impossibly soft as they move against yours in a languid dance. His hand cups the side of your face as he deepens the kiss, and you can’t help but sink into his gentle touch. His lips are smooth against your chapped ones, but you move in sync—like giving breath to fire. His fingers dig slightly into your waist, eliciting a gasp, and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into the gap between your lips. You jump at the cold feeling of rock against your back, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he nips softly at your bottom lip. You can feel your heart pounding in your head and your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Relax, Little Bird,” he mumbles against your lips.

He pulls away but before you can protest the loss, he dips down and latches his lips to your neck. Your own swollen lips part in a silent gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, to your collarbone. You dig your nails into his skin as he nips particularly hard in one spot, and he groans against you. The hand gripping your waist slowly lowers to the curve of your hip, and you suck in a breath. He pauses his movements, and you nearly melt as his eyes flick up to yours. He waits patiently, silently asking for your permission. Your head dips into a nod and before you can process what is happening, his lips are on yours once again and his hand is firmly gripping the curve of your ass. 

This time, you can taste his hunger as he kisses you with fervor. Your head is spinning, and you grip around him tightens as he palms your soft skin underneath the frigid water. He presses you further into the rock behind you, and you freeze as his hand moves up and toys with the lacy fabric at your hips. He slides a finger underneath the band of your panties, and all of a sudden, the fog of desire clouding your mind rises.

“Wait,” you pull away with a gasp.

Even through your inner turmoil, you can’t help but admire the beauty of his tousled crimson hair, wide eyes, and swollen lips. 

His hand stills against your hip, before retreating underneath your knees to hold you up as he did before.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, “I got carried away. If I was moving too fast, I—”

“No,” you cut him off, “You didn’t do anything. You were perfect—I mean,” your decades of reading ancient literature seem to slip away as you scramble for words, “It’s not you. I just haven’t, um, you know…”

He furrows his brows in confusion, but his eyes widen in realization at the flaming, red blush crawling up your neck. The look of surprise on his god-like features makes you want to sink into the cold abyss below and never come up. Instead, you look down at the water lapping up between you two to avoid his gaze.

“I didn’t realize you were saving yourself,” his tone his soft, a contrast to his typically sharp tongue.

The blush creeping up your neck reaches your cheeks as you look up at him again and shake your head, “No, no I’m not. I just, well, I haven’t before. Not because I don’t want to,” you sigh, “I guess the opportunity has just never presented itself.”

You brace yourself for the impact of his teasing, but it never comes. Instead, his usually cold eyes are warm with understanding, and a soft smile tugs at his pink lips.

“No one’s ever touched you before?” he asks with sincerity.

You shake your head and wish the water below you would swallow you whole.

He caresses the side of your face with a feather-light touch that makes you shiver before replying, “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. I just can’t believe no male has ever pursued you, in all your beauty.”

No man has ever pursued you, because no man has been able. You lived the first twenty years of your life hidden between rows of bookshelves. You spent the next decade hidden in the House of Wind, and since then, you’ve only left Velaris with the sole intent of business with other courts. But you can’t tell Eris all of this. You can’t tell him that you’ve never had sex before because, despite their good intention, Mor and Rhys have kept you under their thumbs for the entirety of your adult life. You can’t tell him how you desire, more than anything else, to break out of their mold. 

So instead, you say, “I want you to show me.”

Eris stares at you, his eyes swimming with an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You wait with bated breath, but he doesn’t move. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lunge forward and pull him closer with your arms around his neck. The moment your lips reconnect, any thought in the back of your mind about your mission, your purpose for being here in the first place, dissipates entirely.

He groans at the feeling of your lips against his and wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs. You barely feel the world twisting and folding as he winnows you out of the water. A wave of heat rushes over you and you can feel your whole body dry, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he carries you in his arms and runs his tongue along your bottom lip. Eris lays you down onto something soft, and you whine as he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and your mouth sets into a pout, but for the first time, you notice the change in scenery.

You’re in a cabin—more accurately, on a plush bed in a cabin. But this cottage is much larger than what you’ve grown accustomed to in the woods.

“Patience, Little Bird,” Eris’s voice is thick with desire as he crawls on top of you. He nudges a knee between your legs, and you part them without a second thought.

He wears a smug smile as he dips down. You lurch forward to kiss him again, but he merely hovers a few inches above you, just out of your reach. You try again, this time tugging on the back of his neck to pull him down. But he simply won’t budge.

“Don’t be a prick,” you grumble, frustration boiling under your skin.

He laughs, and the sound makes something churn deep in your gut.

“Tell me where you want me, Birdie,” Eris rasps.

You frown, but you are too stunned to speak. You desperately want to wipe the smug grin off his face, but the words just won’t come out.

“Here?” he hums, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, “Or here?” his hand trails down your neck, to the curve of your breast. You hold your breath as he lightly drags his fingernails down to your stomach, pushing aside his shirt, “Am I getting closer?” he muses as he traces the band of your panties.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and whisper, “I want you to kiss me.”

Eris hums in approval and swoops down, reconnecting your lips once more. Your teeth bump slightly with the force of the kiss and your lips slide sloppily against his. You reach between your bodies and grab his hand, pressing it back against your abdomen before sliding it up. 

“I want you everywhere,” you mumble against his lips.

He releases a guttural moan into your mouth. Eris doesn’t give you a moment to think twice as he flips your bodies around so that his back is against the headboard of the bed, and you are straddling his lap. You move to unbutton his undershirt which still engulfs your body, but he swats your hands away. You gasp into his mouth as he swiftly rips the shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room. You let him push the material off your shoulders, and shiver as the air tickles your nearly bare body. His hands slowly, teasingly wrap around your waist, simultaneously pulling you closer and unclasping your bra. His lips slow against yours as he drags the flimsy material over your shoulders and down your arms, exposing your breasts to him.

Eris pulls his lips away from yours and gazes down at your bare chest. You are unable to will away the flush crawling up your neck as he caresses the curve of your breasts and runs his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His forehead falls against yours and he whispers against your lips, “You are perfect.”

His head dips down towards your breasts and his amber eyes flick up to yours, “May I?”

You can only nod weakly in response.

Your eyes flutter shut as he wraps his lips around your left nipple and flicks his thumb across your right. Your belly throbs at the sensation, and you shift in his lap. You jolt as your core presses against his groin, and a small smile tugs at your lips as you realize he is hard as a rock. You shift your hips again, rubbing against him, and you both moan in unison at the pleasure that shoots up your spines.

“Did your filthy little books teach you that?” he groans against your left breast before switching to your right.

You dig your nails sharply into his shoulders but continue grinding against him. His free hand grips your waist, setting a steady rhythm. Your hands trail down his shoulders, and you scrape your fingernails down his chest as you explore the firmness of his abdomen. Eris presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your breast before pulling off. You don’t give him a moment to catch his breath as you cup his face with your hands and pull him up, crashing your lips against his again. His taste is intoxicating, and you just can’t seem to get enough of it.

His hands snake around your waist and he grips your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and grinding you against him even harder. Your hands dip down from his abs to the band of his underwear. You lazily graze your hand along the material, dipping your fingers underneath teasingly. Just as you’re about to reach your hand inside, he firmly grips your wrist and flips your bodies once again so you are lying flat on your back.

“As much as I would love to have your hand wrapped around my cock,” Eris presses a taunting kiss to the corner of your lips, “This is all about you, Little Bird.”

You watch the rise and fall of your bare chest as he lowers himself down the length of your body. His trails open-mouthed kisses down your neck, between your breasts, until he reaches the band of your panties. You suck in a breath as his eyes flick up to yours, and his fingers toy with the lace trim.  

“Is this okay?” he whispers, fighting the smile tugging at his lips.

You nod dumbly.

You yelp as he hooks his arms around your thighs and tugs you down towards the edge of the bed. He runs a hand teasingly along your leg, up to your inner thigh. 

“Tell me what you want, Little Bird,” he teases as he touches every part of your exposed body, except where you need him most.

You whine and wriggle your hips, but he firmly holds you in place. He cocks a brow expectantly as he softly caresses your inner thigh.

“I want you,” you whimper, “I want you between my legs.”

Eris hums and latches his lips onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sucking harshly before running his tongue along the same spot, “Here?”

Your face is flaming with embarrassment. Your core is throbbing, and you’re positive there’s a wet patch on the center of your panties. You shake your head, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes. 

He nudges a thumb underneath the band of your panties, “Am I getting warmer?”

You want to kick him, but you nod your head instead obediently. He presses his thumb directly on your clit through the wet spot on your panties, and you cry out at the sensation.

“I need words, Little Bird,” he presses his thumb harder.

Your thighs are shaking, and your desperation finally betrays you as a tear slips out of the corner of your eye.

“I want you on my cunt,” your voice trembles as you speak, “I want your fingers, your mouth, your tongue, I want it all. Please.”

His eyes darken, and a vicious smile curls onto his lips as he finally yanks the flimsy material down your legs and tosses it aside. He doesn’t give you a second to process the fact that you are completely bare for him as he runs a finger through you, admiring how your wetness collects at his fingertips. You nearly cry in relief as he finally presses the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit. Pleasure shoots up your spine as he flicks his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

“Don’t be shy, darling. I want to hear how good I’m making you feel,” he purrs.

This time, you don’t stop the cry that bubbles in your throat as he increases the speed of his thumb and traces his other hand over your slick. He slides his middle finger over your entrance and pushes just his fingertip inside, his thumb continuously moving in a steady rhythm.

“Don’t tease. Please,” you beg, every ounce of self-respect left behind in that frigid stream.

He smirks and sinks his middle finger into you. You throw your head back with a moan as he curls it inside, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed.

“I think you were made for me, Bird,” he mumbles as he slowly thrusts his finger inside of you, “I wish you could see the way your sweet cunt just sucks me in.”

You cover your face with the crook of your elbow to hide your embarrassment, but pull it away with a jolt as his teeth sink into your thigh; a warning.

He stops thrusting his finger, and instead curls it inside of you repeatedly, sending ripples of pleasure through your gut as he continuously stimulates that spot deep inside of you. A filthy squelching sound fills the room, but you too far past the point of self-consciousness to care.

Just as the tension starts to build in your gut, he pulls both of his hands away abruptly. You whine at the loss and look down just in time to meet his eyes as he runs his tongue in a long swipe up from your entrance to your clit. You cry out at the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He moans against you, and the vibration makes your toes curl.

“You taste divine,” he rasps against you.

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you pant through uneven breaths. Your hands grasp at the sheets, desperately searching for something to stabilize yourself, and you throw your head back as he latches his lips over your bundle of nerves, sucking harshly. He sharply slaps your thigh and mumbles against your cunt, “Eyes on me.”

You all but melt as you glance down and meet his lust-filled gaze. His amber eyes don’t leave yours as he eats you out like a man starved. Your core continuously throbs, sending wave after wave of pleasure up your spine. You run your fingers through his crimson locks, pushing him against you even further, and he hums in approval.

You feel like you’ve been transported to another planet. And just when you think you couldn’t possibly take anymore, he runs a finger up your slit and sinks it back inside of you.

“Eris,” you mewl as he thrusts his finger while his tongue continues its ministrations against your clit.

He releases a guttural moan against you and curls his finger harshly against your spongy walls.

“Say my name again,” he murmurs against your slick before continuing, never missing a beat.

“Eris,” you moan as you feel the tension rapidly building in your groin.

“Again,” he groans, flicking his tongue even faster.

The pressure in your gut is almost too much, and you grip onto his hair for dear life as you chant his name like a mantra, “Eris, Eris, Eris.”

Which each utterance of his name, he curls his finger inside you. Your chanting is close to sobbing as the pressure builds, and builds, until the coil finally snaps.

Your vision blurs and you all but scream at the ecstasy coursing through your veins. You feel like you’re floating as waves of unbridled pleasure roll through your body, the tension in your gut finally coming to a head. Eris continues his ministrations as he rides you through your climax, until your legs spasm and your hips jolt at the hypersensitivity. He presses one last kiss to your core before slowly removing his hands. You can only watch in awe as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking every last drop of your slick from his hands.

Sweat beads at your forehead and your bare chest rises and falls rapidly as you come down from your high, slowly coming back to reality. His touch is gentle as he rises back up and lays beside you. You don’t protest as he pulls you into his chest and wipes away the tear trailing down your face. He presses his lips against your forehead and mumbles against you, “You did so well, darling.”

You rest your head against his chest and allow his warmth and the steady beat of his heart to calm you down. His fingers comb through your hair and scrape against your scalp in a soothing manner. You gaze shyly up at him, and find his eyes already trained on you. You wrap an arm around his chest and he pulls you closer, placing a sweet kiss on your chapped lips. You can taste yourself against him, and the thought makes you shiver. Your leg shifts between his thighs, and you can feel the hardness of his groin pressing up against you.

“What about you?” your voice is scratchy as you whisper against his lips.

Eris simply smiles down at you and presses his lips to your forehead, “Baby steps, Little Bird. Don’t worry about me—this was about you.”

Your heart melts at his words, and you can’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and fall into a comfortable silence. The waterfall sounds through the walls of the cottage in the distance like a peaceful lullaby. 

“Thank you,” you whisper shyly, eyes flicking up towards his.

He wears his foxlike grin as he stares back down at you, “For what?”

Your lips graze his jaw as you speak, “For showing me all of this. For letting me be selfish.”

Amber eyes smile kindly at you, “Don’t ever thank me,” he says simply.

He continues his gentle stroking of your hair, and your eyes flutter shut as you marvel at how your body fits against his like a mold. 

You should feel guilty. Guilty for betraying your family. Dirty for putting your selfish desires above your loyalty to your court. But you can’t ignore how right it feels to be wrapped up in your supposed enemy’s arms. 

You know the panic will soon wash over you. But for now, you allow yourself to indulge in the marvelous incredulity of it all as you fall into a peaceful sleep to the steady beat of Eris’s heart.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist:

@lilah-asteria @goldenmagnolias @myromanempiree @i-know-i-can @hannzoaks @olive-main @rcarbo1

[astradreaming]

LOST REQUEST

luke castellan x athena!reader

masterlist

Trying to convince your mortal friends that you had previously stayed at a summer camp since you were thirteen proved to be difficult especially when you can't tell them about the whole demigod situation.

What seemed impossible to convince them was the fact that you had a boyfriend who stayed there too. Which in itself was rude, but then again you had no photos of him or any form of proof of his existence, until today.

Luke had bribed Chiron (with the promise of making sure the Stolls relaxed on the pranks for awhile) into letting him pick you up and escort you back to camp, for protection of course.

Totally not because he missed you, and definitely not because Chris Rodriguez had practically thrown him out of camp being fed up with Luke and his moping around since your absence.

Walking out of the front doors, everyone spilled out of the school building. Slowly your friends grouped at the bottom on the stone stairs.

"Hey y/n since its the last day we're going to the cafe on second street, you wanna come with?" One of your friends called out.

"Can't sorry guys, Luke's picking me up" You said apologeticly, with a smile at the mention of Luke.

"Ooh Luke huh? Does this mean we'll finally meet him"

"Wait who's Luke?"

"Y/n's boyfriend who's a complete ghost story"

The group burst with gossip. Sighing quietly to yourself, its not your fault demigods cant use phones. He'd told you of his plan of bribing Chiron the night before when you both had your nightly Iris Message.

You scout the streets, looking for said boy when you heard a very familiar voice call out your name. Quickly turning around to see him standing there, still in his orange camp shirt. You rush towards him, practically crashing into him.

"I take it you missed me huh?" He says with a breathless chuckle.

"You have no idea, having to explain the monster i just killed in the middle of AP Algebra without your charm was exhausting."

"Only missing my gifts, quite hurtful sweetheart" He jokingly pulls away from the embrace.

"Oh shush you idiot" you lightly smack his shoulder as he laughs at your terrible comeback.

You grab his hand pulling him towards the unmoving group of your friends.

"C'mon I've got to prove your not just real but also as hot as I said you were"

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

DATING PERCY JACKSON HC'S

paring: percy jackson x athena!fem!reader

warnings: swearing

a/n: this is my first time doing hc's so i decided to get it out of the way! (its scary cause like i don't wanna disappoint 😭) so if you have any tips or anything lemme know!!

you and percy are like the it couple of camp

like seriously when you two finally (key word being finally) got together the entire camp was rejoicing that you two idiots finally admitted your feelings

you were the two most oblivious people on the planet (percy mostly)

but now you're together its no longer stealing glances in secret but openly gazing at the other and getting distracted in the middle of sparring *cough* percy *cough*

its stealing kisses in between activities

curling up in bed with stolen snacks from the camp store and books

BOOKS

percy's battle against your love for your book boyfriends is a constant war...

and when he introduced you to sally via iris message sally LOVED you on sight

you basically spent the entire time talking to her trash talking percy

percy who had a scowl on his face the entire time

you guys are iconic

if the campers were asked to think of their fav couple in the modern world they'd instantly think of you two

percy and y/n, y/n and percy, you're a package deal

you're like the mom and dad of camp honestly

whenever you fight (which isn't often) the campers whisper to each other "mommy and daddy are fighting again"

the campers knowing smirks whenever they see you both leaving a cabin flustered and dishevelled after making out do

ABOSLUTELY NOTHING to stop you both

percy offers to bring you home for christmas knowing your history with a non-existent family

you had excitedly thrown yourself into his arms squealing "yes!"

you had been a ball of nerves for the last few days of camp

when percy brought you home for the holidays you were ecstatic

so was he really

percy being the lovesick puppy he is, basically just followed you around where ever you wanted to go

that included nearly all the bookstores in the area.

you had happily strolled through the store and passing percy every book you wanted saying

"omigoshpercy! look at this cover!" and then scurrying over to the next book "i've been wanting this one forever!"

percy has a shit eating grin on his face the entire time

he's just happy you're happy

sally was overjoyed when you arrived whipping you into a flurry of warm hugs and smiles

you'd honestly never felt more at home

one night you and percy are curled up on the couch under a blanket reading a book with percy muttering how he was clearly much better than this dumbass

who both stay that way for a while, percy occasionally placing kisses on your temple.

that is the night you first say i love you.

when you say it out loud percy's eyes widen and he flips around so he's facing you

"I love you."

now you've never felt more at home

percy thinks of you as a literal goddess

he worships the ground you walk on

and when you said i love you, that practically just cements his obsession with you

when sally walked in on you two to offer you some dinner she smiles when she sees you asleep on percy's shoulder, percy mouths

"what?" so he doesn't wake you up.

"you really like her, don't you?"

percy nods staring adoringly at you. "yeah i kinda do."

a/n pt2: i actually had so much fun making these so let me know if you'd ever want more hc's!!

[dearhargrove]

Survivors

Evan Buckley x reader

summary You're taking care of Christopher when Buck comes home, looking absolutely drained and in shock and goes straight to Christophers room. You overhear the news and make sure to care for both Chris and Buck.

word count 1639

tags pretty much episode 14 season 4, Eddie gets shot but it's not described, Buck is sad :(, Chris being the precious kid he is

a/n the way I sat there in silence when Eddie got shot is crazy. Like first they hurt us with Athena and Bobby's fight and then one second passes and Eddie (my bb) gets shot I'm so confused 😭 anyway I couldn't take it when I saw bucks reaction so I wrote a fix it for me. Also I screen recorded off of an illegal site to make gifs LMAO

masterlist

You're washing the dishes when the front door opens and closes, footsteps echoing through the hallway and living room - right past the kitchen.

“Eddie?” You call and the steps stop. Instead of the man you'd expected there's your husband, Buck. He looks distraught, eyes bloodshot and lips bitten raw. What the hell happened? He doesn't even really look at you, it's like he's looking through you. “Buck? You okay?”

He licks his lips and blinks a few times but he doesn't reply. He walks straight to Christopher's bedroom, you following after him in confusion and worry. Why was he alone and why did he look like he'd seen a ghost or worse?

He stops before entering Chris’ room, but not to wait for permission to come in but more like hesitancy. He balls his hand into a fist and takes a deep breath before walking in. You take his spot in the doorway and watch with a worried frown as Buck squats down in front of Chris who's sitting on his bed, playing a video game.

“Where's Dad?” Buck looks down and you see him swallow again before he looks into the kids eyes. “He's.. not coming home tonight, Chris.”

Chris seems almost unbothered by it but considering that Eddie had to stay in the hospital overnight almost regularly due to his job, it was a reasonable reaction. But Buck doesn't seem to think the same and shakes his head minimally.

“Did he get hurt? In a fire?” Chris inquires and Buck turns his head to the side and slowly shakes it in negation. Before explaining it he sits down next to Chris and pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. “No, not- not in a fire.” He takes another deep breath before continuing, “The truth is someone hurt your Dad.”

It's been a while since you've heard his voice so sullen and raspy from crying - probably since the last visit from his parents and that was weeks ago now. You slowly and quietly come into the room as well, standing at the foot of the bed and next to Buck with his back turned to you.

He regards you with a short glance before focusing back on Christopher, confirming his question, “Yeah, a bad guy.”

You see him reach up and wipe under his eyes, frowning in empathy as you put your hand between his shoulder blades and slowly move it up and down in hopes to calm him down a bit.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Chris asks and you're glad he did because you want to know too. Buck looks at him again and nods. “Your Dad is tough. He's a fighter.”

“He's with the doctors now? The ones that fixed you?” Chris inquires and Buck nods. You see the conflict on his face before the ten year old nods, “Then he's gonna be fine.” You hum and Buck glances your way before focusing back on Chris. Just as he's about to say something his phone pings twice and he looks down at it.

Over his shoulder you see the message as well, stemming from Bobby.

Out of surgery. Doctors say it went well.

Your heart basically drops in relief and Bucks seems to as well when his phone drops from his hand and he pretty much caves in, dropping his chin to his chest as he sniffles and exhales deeply.

You thread your hand in his hair and he automatically leans into you, resting against your stomach as he starts to cry. His hands grasp at your hips before his arms wrap around you and he sobs.

“Shh, it's okay, baby. Eddie's gonna be fine. Right, Chris? Your dad's strong.”

The young boy nods and you smile assuringly as he reaches out and wraps his arm around Bucks shoulders to pat his back. You melt at the sight and ruffle his hair which he usually doesn't like - only his dad is allowed to - but now he just looks at you with worry and confusion.

“How about you go and get ready for bed, hm?” It's not a question and it is a reasonable time for him to head to bed anyway, so he complies and slowly walks to the bathroom.

When he's out of earshot you sit next to Buck and let him fully wrap his arms around you and put his head on your chest as he cries. “H-He got shot right in front of me,” he starts with hitching breaths. “He just dropped and his blood was all over me-” he sobs deeply and you kiss his head while trying to process this yourself. He got shot?

“You couldn't have prevented it, love. He's gonna be fine. Eddie survived a lot, he's going to pull through this time, too.” Buck shakes his head and pulls back enough to look at you, blue eyes glossy and chin quivering as he gasps between another sob.

“It shouldn't have been him!” This devastates you and you cup his face in your hands, your worried expression replaced by a stern one. “It shouldn't have been anyone. Not him and not you, either. You hear me?”

He whimpers and you sigh, wiping your thumbs under his eyes and placing a long, soft kiss on his birthmark. “As soon as we can, we'll go visit him. But now you have to be strong, for Christopher. He looks up to you, if he sees you sad he'll be sad, too. Let's get him to bed, and I'll take care of you after.”

You take his hand and put it over your heart, exaggerating your breaths so he could match his and calm down. Right when he does he opens his eyes again and his frown fades enough to only be barely visible. “‘m sorry.”

The shake of your head is immediate, shutting up any further apologies. “No. It's good to let it out. I'm here so you can do exactly that if you need to. I love you, Evan. Nothing's gonna change that.”

He pulls his hand from your chest and tangles it with yours instead, gently kissing your knuckles and then your inner wrist.

He used to hate his name after it reminded him of his parents- of how they treated him. It reminds him of a life where he had to endure pain to receive love and attention.

But when you say it, it makes his heart beat faster in a good way. It makes him want to move on from his trauma or at least learn to deal with it.

And moreover it makes him feel validated. With you, he's not just Buck. He's also vulnerable, emotional and a bit cheesy. He's Evan. Evan, who's had more jobs in more cities than he can count on one hand because he was trying to find his place in the world. Evan, who likes the ocean but has been uneasy around it ever since the tsunami.

You smile lovingly and peck his forehead just as Chris comes back inside. He's wearing some dino pajamas and you ‘ohh’ at him which makes him giggle and turn as if to show off his outfit.

You move up from the bed - Buck going with you and standing at the foot of it - and untuck the bedsheets. “Get in there.” Chris grins and lays down, letting you tuck him in.

“Don't be sad, kid.” He says to Buck, who tries and fails to hide a new round of tears building up in his eyes. You had no clue where and why Chris sometimes calls Buck or even Eddie ‘kid’ but both of them seemed to love it.

“I'm just a bit worried for your Dad. But he'll be fine,” he adds the last part when you glance at him warningly, not wanting Chris to worry, and smiles. “Goodnight, bud.”

You leave his nightlight on and the door open as you leave.

Buck settles on the couch and watches as you approach and stand in front of him.

He leans back into the couch and looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that make you melt every single time he looks at you. Damn him and his beautiful eyes.

“I'm really scared. I don't know what I would do without him… when he laid there and looked at me, I-” he inhales sharply and looks at his hands, picking at his nails and reopening an old abrasion in the process.

You take his hand into each of yours to stop him and sigh, “I think you're gonna have to move from monthly sessions to biweekly, babe.” You know his therapy has been helping him a lot and you're glad he's working on coping with his trauma, but this addition is going to complicate not just his home life but also work - especially when Eddie comes back.

He groans and pulls you down until you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and his hands on your hips. “I appreciate your help, lovie, but just let me try and rest a little right now, please?”

You smile and card a hand through hair, moving to get off his lap so he could get comfortable on the couch. “Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and you're pushed onto your back before he's leaning over you, laying between your legs.

“You're gonna use me as your pillow?” You prompt and he nods, laying his head on your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck and against your pulse point. You're familiar with his constant search for proof that you're alive and well; you supposed it comes from not just the job but his abandonment issues, too.

It didn't matter to you though, as long as you got to hold him at the end of the day you'd let him maneuver you into whatever way made him happy.

[twelvemonkeyswere]

Favorite Chim & Hen moments, in no particular order

When Hen spoke up about how scared she was that he wasn't sure about marrying Maddie. The love of speaking about hard things and then forgiving what was necessary to forgive

Hen showing up at Chim's car and offering herself as a copilot as he searches for his lost wife

Chim helping Hen steal legal information about another paramedic because he believes in her so much

Chim setting Hen and Karen up, and being right about them working together

Chim trying to support Hen, in his own way, when she first arrived to the station because of how she was bullied. Hen telling him what he did wasn't enough, and Chim listening

Hen fiercely and lovingly describing Chim as her best friend

Hen descending into a fallen bridge to get Chim from a trapped ambulance. When she shows up he tells her to "say nothing" about his wound because it's, yet again, another rod

Chim talking to Hen's son as the loving and funny uncle he is

When Athena is talking to Hen on the phone and Bobby messages Chim to warn him that Hen shouldn't encourage Athena because he knew Chim would be with Hen. And he was right.

Hen and Chim both treating Buck like a baby brother

Hen and Chim wordlessly understanding each other to defeat a serial killer even though the serial killer was threatening them, Chim had died thrice already, and Hen had been drugged

I'll update with more when I remember

[lyculuscaelus]

Meet the characters… (EPIC version)

Odysseus "Nobody" Laërtiades, "#1 Penelope Simp": just a man; loves his wife and son; raining reigning king of Ithaca; shorter than Agamemnon; making his way back home but always seems to get into more trouble; rawrs or hoots depending on his mood; equipped with Schrödinger’s braincells

Eurylochus, "Ctimene’s #1 Husband": Odysseus’s second-in-command; doesn’t have his own instrument; likes bags; doesn’t like witches or torches

Polites, "Teganites": good with open arms; used to have blood on his hands; always survives what he gets into

Perimedes, "The Lord of Comfort Zone": good with babyyeeting; aromantic for everyone else except Polites; good relations with Polites (especially) and Elpenor; depression therapy on the lotus-eaters’ island got canceled by his captain

Elpenor, "The Fallen": loves wine and Perimedes

Pallas "Somebody" Athena, "Badass Señorita": patron of nobody; goddess of wisdom, master of war; tilts her head very often; #1 OdyPen shipper; has a scary shield

Telemachus Odysseïdes, "Little Wolf": born far from war; does battle from afar; not Odysseus’s daughter; the little wolf who bites; has a roommate™ later on

Penelope "Duck" Icarione, "Banana Peel": weep, weave, wait

Hermes "Trickster" Atlantiades, "Breaker of Fourth Walls": invents phones and the text message; always slays in discos; professional root dealer; divine messenger, tour guide in the Underworld, patron of travelers, lord of thieves, good shepherd, trustworthy businessman; world’s greatest great-grandfather

Poseidon "Forkman" Kronides, "The Muffin Man": good with gps; doesn’t get pissed off very often; master of horses, god of tides; actually has more lovers and kids than his brother; #1 Odysseus hater

Zeus Kronides, "The Judgment Call": his Honor, master of the heaven, king of gods, bringer of thunder, collector of cloud, protector of strangers, player of birds; good relations with women and boys; has a scary shield; likes to torment Odysseus’s mental health