#Hermes x You

[apricot-blossomss]

Okokokok hear me out right

The reader is friends with hermes (God or moral reader, your choice!) And they asked hermes to deliver a love letter for them! Days, even weeks go by and Hermes still hasn't delivered it. He doesn't want to, he doesn't want the reader to be directing their attention at anything but him. Maybe this love interest will get tired of waiting! Maybe he should just hold onto it forever. Maybe he should just read the letter himself and decide if this person is good enough for the reader?

And then he reads it and its says something like "hermes I knew you couldn't stop yourself from reading this, I love you, you bastard"

Just an idea <3

☛ hermes steals f!bff!mortal!reader's love letter

☛ sfw; cw: a little suggestive; I got covid so I have some time on my hands

When you asked him for a favor, Hermes couldn't have imagined a world in which he wouldn't fulfill it. Up until now. Staring down at the pink envelope in his hands, he felt his chest constrict with a feeling that could be perfectly encapsulated in the word 'shit'.

"Hermes?"

"Huh?" He looked up into your eyes and kept staring as you laughed about his dumbfounded expression. Your lovely laugh didn't make the situation any better for him, though it usually did. Now, it only added to the growing whirlwind in his stomach, clawing at his insides, screaming at him 'too late, you're too late, idiot'.

"Can you deliver this for me?" you repeated the question. "It's for someone very important to me."

Why not him? Why weren't you sending it to him? He was important to you, he had to be more important to you than whatever douche this letter was for. Hermes had to swallow down the urge to rip the stupid thing to shreds. But it looked like you had put a lot of care into the letter. It even smelled of sweet citrus, which really pissed him off, because the smell was so utterly you and he didn't want any other man associated with it.

"Yeah, sure," he said, forcing a smile onto his face. Gods, it hurt. The worst of it was the way your smile brightened, your eyes so kind and happy when you gleamed up at him. This wasn't right, you only smiled at him like that. Right?

Without turning the letter to look at the addressee, Hermes stuffed it into his bag that was already filled to the brim without much care. Maybe the bag could accidentally slip over the ocean and spill all the letters. Or he could throw it into Hestia's fire and pretend it was an accident. Or maybe he could deliver the letter but hide it somewhere the guy would never find it. Then he would have delivered the letter, technically.

Over pondering this conundrum, his attentive eyes missed the nervous twitching of your fingers and your excited little glances, as well as the way you practically shoved him outside the door with some rushed goodbyes to run into your bedroom and scream into your pillow.

Hermes stood in front of the closed door and had been standing there for a good minute, but he couldn't get his quick feet to move. On the other side of that door was you. You, with the gentle eyes, the dazzling smile and the understanding heart. You, who was his solace after a long day, his joy, his best friend. Right. His best friend he should not have these thoughts about.

Oh, but how dearly he wished to break down these doors, walk up to you and kiss you. How he dreamt of coming home to you, not just in his head and heart but also in reality. Like he already did, he would knock in your window and you'd let him in as if he were a stray pigeon, laughing at his jokes and winks and flirtatious comments. But in his fantasy, it didn't stop there. No, you would kiss him and tell him how much you missed him, he'd surprise you with a romantic picknick and spend the night with you and fall asleep in your warm arms.

Blinking, Hermes snapped out of his daydreams and cursed himself. He was a leecher, thinking about his damn pretty best friend like that. Sighing, he pulled his hat deeper into his face, obscuring his eyes, and set off for his job with flying feet. Knowing damn well he would not be able to concentrate on a single thing today.

🪽

Hermes had never messed up so many deliveries as in the last two weeks- and it wasn't even on purpose. Unlike his father suspected, ever since he had accidentally opened Aphrodite's sex toy delivery. The smacking down still made him wince, even a good five days later. And Hermes tried to concentrate , he really did, but it was hard when the damn letter, still safely stored in his bag, lay heavily on his mind. Stupid, flimsy little thing.

Hermes didn't want to deliver it. He didn't want anyone to get it, and though the guilt ate him up from the inside, he couldn't deny it: he wanted you all to himself. Selfishly, greedily, he didn't want you to give your attention to any man but him- at least not in that way. And, hey, maybe if he procrastinated it long enough, the guy would get tired of waiting and you would just forget him. Maybe he should just hold onto the letter forever.

"Hermes?" you poked his cheek and the god snapped out of his whirlwind of thoughts. Sitting on your couch, he realized you had stood up before him. Your concerned eyes hovered over him and he had to gulp down the urge to pull you down into his lap so he could study them more closely. "Are you okay? You kinda spaced out there for a second."

"I'm fine, baby," he smiled, glancing up at you sheepishly. "I'm not myself tonight." Your forgiving smile was too much for him as he let his upper body slump forward. His head, luckily hat-less as always around you, weighed against your upper body and when it vibrated with your little laugh, Hermes savored the comforting feeling. Choosing to tempt fate and test his luck, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down into his lap, eliciting the most adorable squeak from you. He had to suppress the urge to bite you- you were just too cute.

Your friendship with Hermes had always been very affectionate. Lots of hugging, sitting halfway in each others laps, even sleeping next to each other sometimes, too which you would always wake up to an arm wrapped around your waist and a face in your neck. This open display of affection had you wonder first wether Hermes might see you as more than a friend, when his hand always dipped a little farther down, gripped a little tighter than necessary, when he buried his face in your neck and hugged you as if he never wanted to let go again.

Apart from the fact that having a literal god cling to you like a koala bear was a major ego boost, you really liked Hermes, in more ways than the platonic love you two shared. For weeks you had pondered how to do it and finally worked out a plan: you would give Hermes a love letter with a false address. If he delivered it, no one would read it, but if he liked you back and would try to read it...

"Where are we, like, in the plot?" Hermes muffled into your neck and you felt a light shiver run down your spine- you hoped he didn't notice, but you felt his signature grin form against your skin, and his hands departing from their grip on your hips with fingers like spiders up your sides. Squirming, you swatted them away and the god laughed, still holding you close.

"She slept with both of them and now she hates herself," you answered quickly to shut him up. Managing to get a hold of his hands, you pressed them down onto his lap with little resistance and squeezed them under your thighs to block their means of escape. A choking sound left Hermes' and the god coughed, slipping his hands away and placing you next to him on the couch.

Ouch.

What you didn't know was the war for self-control raging inside your best friend the minute you placed your thighs so deliciously and grabbable over his hands. When his daydreams had, up to now, consisted of confessing your love to each other and innocent kissing, he now felt the overwhelming urge to grab you by the thighs, flip you over on your little couch and have you scream out his name- and his name only. For that one, Hermes gave himself a mental beating and gave you a little smile to conceal his red cheeks- and the fact that you would get wind of his predicament if you only looked down into his lap.

"Sounds great!" Honestly, he didn't even remember your answer to his question, and his overly enthusiastic reaction had you giggling. And that was really all he needed to be happy. Why did he want more? Why was he so insatiable?

The movie was pretty boring, and you seemed to think so too, because your gaze wandered frequently and you caught his incessant staring multiple times. But neither of you turned it off, because really, it was fine. Sitting next to to each other, your head coming to rest on your shoulder at some point, his hand slipping into yours in a completely platonic way.

“Hermes?” you asked when the love interest on screen started to have an intense melodramatic meltdown (Hermes did feel seen).

“Hm?”

"Have you... delivered that letter yet?" You fidgeted with your fingers nervously, but Hermes' stomach dropped down to his feet at least. Shit.

"What letter?" Hermes could have punched himself in the face.

"The love letter I gave to you," you explained carefully. "It's just... I never got an answer so I thought maybe you lost it or..." Your voice droned off and you bit down on your lip nervously. Was Hermes purposefully avoiding the topic? Had he read the letter and now wanted to ignore it out of existence because he didn't feel the same way? You had been so sure there was more to it. At least he wasn't making fun of you, but it was still humiliating, thinking he had read those lines and-

"Ah, that one!" Hermes exclaimed and you flinched at his loud tone. A nervous chuckle left his lips. "Uh yeah, I'm so sorry, baby, I must have forgotten about that one, I forget things sometimes, lots of stuff to deliver and sometimes letters get left behind and..." His rambling droned off and he bit down on his lip like a child caught in a lie, looking up at you.

Your understanding smile nearly killed him. It would have, if it could have. Hermes felt like the biggest asshole when you sighed relieved. "Ah, good, I was a little worried." Fittingly, the lady on screen screamed loudly about how much she hated herself and Hermes pondered over how he could relate to every single one of these over-the-top characters.

🪽

"Good night," you smiled as Hermes exited the door and turned around to you. You were dressed all oversized and cuddly with those warm winter socks and looked just about irresistible. Especially with the way the stars reflected in your wide, slightly tired eyes.

Following a shy impulse, he didn't give you a hug, as usual, but pressed a kiss to your warm cheek. When he pulled away, he did feel satisfaction at the way your face had heated up visibly, even in the dim light. "G'night, baby," he grinned with new fervor and a dreadful feeling in his stomach.

When he turned to leave and pushed himself off the ground to fly up into the air, his decision was made. He would deliver the damn letter. No longer would he be in the way of your happiness. If this guy really was who you wanted...

But, Hermes pondered as the houses of your neighborhood shrunk down to little lights, like the sky but below him, and one of the stars was you. But he should make sure this person was good enough for you. And have an address in case they weren't.

Stopping mid-air, Hermes pulled out the dreaded pink envelope. Not recognizing the address, he decided to look for clues in the letter itself. If you were to ask him, the envelope just kind of ... slipped open and the letter just sort of slipped out of there. When he pulled it out, the familiar smell hit him. After two weeks in his bag, the envelope had lost your smell, but it still stuck to the letter it self. With slightly trembling hands, he unfolded the paper, surprised to find only a few lines written in your handwriting.

Hermes, I knew you wouldn't able to stop yourself from reading this. The address is fake, this letter is for you. I love you, you idiot.

Below that, you had given him three options to pick: () don't ever come near me again, () let's ignore this ever happened because you are the shrek to my donkey, () I love you too. Your messy handwriting on that part had him smile, because he could picture you writing the letter, becoming unsure of yourself and scribbling three options down.

Hermes didn't even bother ticking off option three. He had no time to waste. Within seconds, he was bolting down to earth with the speed of a meteor, the wind howling in his ears, the letter firmly in his hand. You were completely right. He was an idiot. But an idiot who was about to make all your time of waiting up to you.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[divinevault]

POV: Artemis and Apollo drag Hermes away from you

[winxanity-ii]

could i request hermes headcanons with a male lover?

of course! sorry if not the best, just the concept of hermes taking one of apollos followers 😩

THAT BOY IS MINE

ship: hermes x male!apollo devotee!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 861 a/n: my first male reader request hehhehe; i lowkey wanna make a full one-shot..

★·.·´🇪‌🇵‌🇮‌🇨‌: 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇺‌🇸‌🇮‌🇨‌🇦‌🇱‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Trickster god Hermes, who first noticed you during one of Apollo's grand performances, as you stood in the crowd, bright laughter escaping your lips.

He didn't think much of it until he saw how you looked at Apollo—admiration clear in your eyes—and suddenly, the idea of getting your attention and challenging your admiration for Apollo was too irresistible for him to pass up.

Trickster god Hermes, who slips beside you during festivals, the kind of presence that catches you off guard.

He'd grin, that troublemaker smile of his, leaning in to whisper something sly about Apollo's radiance. "You think he's the only god worthy of your gaze?" he'd murmur, his eyes glinting with mischief as your cheeks warmed under his gaze.

Trickster god Hermes, who made sure you couldn't ignore him.

At first, it was harmless jokes, a teasing smile from across the temple grounds, or a comment as he materialized at your side, seemingly out of nowhere. But soon, he was there more often, lingering in your shadow. He loved the way you stiffened when he appeared, as if he had found a crack in your composure—and he intended to widen it.

Trickster god Hermes, who brushed his fingers against yours when you were organizing offerings in Apollo's temple, just to see the way you startled, your eyes meeting his in confusion.

He grinned, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "How devoted you are makes me envious, little muse. Would you give the same amount of devotion to me?" His words held a challenge, and for a moment, you wondered if there was more than jest in his eyes.

Trickster god Hermes, who knew how to make life an adventure, began slipping into your routines with ease.

He whisked you away from your duties, convincing you to join him on escapades across hills, through rivers, and into places you were not supposed to go. He showed you joy beyond Apollo’s measured perfection—the kind found in laughter that left you breathless, in the thrill of racing the wind, in moments stolen away just for yourselves. He made the divine feel real, imperfect, and you couldn't help but love that.

Trickster god Hermes, who was unpredictable, daring, and somehow made you feel seen.

He didn't look at you as merely another worshipper. He looked at you as someone he wanted. It unsettled you, the way he lingered too close, the intensity of his gaze following you as if you were the only one that mattered in a room full of people.

Trickster god Hermes, who found you alone in a grove, your shoulders slumped in loneliness as Apollo was too busy for you.

Instead of his usual antics, Hermes simply sat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. He didn't say anything—he was just there—and for once, his presence wasn’t meant to charm or impress; it was just... real. It was the first time you saw something other than playful mischief in his eyes—it was care, and it unraveled something inside you.

Trickster god Hermes, who watched you with a longing that was hard to ignore.

He'd catch you glancing at Apollo from a distance, and his jaw would tense, that smile dropping for a heartbeat before it returned, sharper. He'd then make his presence known—his fingers skimming your waist, or his lips brushing your ear as he whispered something that made your pulse quicken. You were never just a follower to him, and he needed you to understand that.

Trickster god Hermes, who, for all his confidence, had waited for you to come to him.

He bided his time and made sure you knew he was always there. He listened when you spoke, his gaze never leaving your face, as though everything you said was the most important thing in the world. It wasn't Apollo's grandness, but it was real—and you found yourself seeking out Hermes more and more, your heart pulling toward the trickster who seemed to understand you in ways others didn't.

Trickster god Hermes, who watched with a soft smile the day you gave in.

When you leaned in to kiss him, he wrapped his arms around you as you kissed him, his lips curving against yours, the playful grin giving way to something deeper. Hermes held you close, as if you were the greatest treasure he had ever stolen, and he had no intention of letting go.

Trickster god Hermes, who made no secret of your connection afterward.

He'd drape himself over you in the presence of Apollo, his arm snug around your waist, whispering something teasingly possessive just loud enough for the sun god to hear with a knowing grin, as if to say, "He's mine now." There was no malice in it, only pride—pride that he had managed to steal your heart and that you had given it willingly.

Trickster god Hermes, who stole your heart in the most unexpected way, not by charm alone but through his laughter, his warmth, and his genuine affection.

He saw you not as someone worshipping from the shadows but as someone deserving of the spotlight, deserving of a love that was wild and unrestrained, just like the wind.

[3ldergodz]

Uwu blorbo god

[clasiann]

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3112

Pairing: Hermes (Bottom) /Reader (Top)

Self indulgent fic where you fuck Hermes ^_^

A complete brain wave that appears to shock your mind draws you in to break away from your group and away from the Captain’s right hand man, branching off to a different path with draping trees that hunch over enough to fog away whatever was ahead.

Along the way had you been guided with the fades noises of giggles, only erupting further the more you stumbled and treaded through with your numb legs, mind fuzzy and clogging up.

-

You are a crew member that survived Poseidon as Odysseus seemed to be more affected than the rest, leaving a large group to wander around the new island.

Despite the major part of you wishing to perhaps bolt away from the area, you instead seem to be drawn in and away from the group with small giggles following.

[sayoneee]

☆ POISON

“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.

kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)

i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it

“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”

“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.

luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.

despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.

“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”

“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside. 

“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.

“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.

“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.

you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”

“duly noted.”

“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”

“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”

“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.

“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”

you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.

“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.

“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.” 

luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”

“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”

“so you’ve discussed me then.”

“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.

luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him. 

after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”

you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus��” you trail off.

“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy. 

“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.

luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.

ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside

“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”

deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash. 

luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”

as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”

you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”

your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.

you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed. 

luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”

before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side. 

“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.

“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces. 

“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”

“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“yes you —”

“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”

“what details even are there to give?”

silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you. 

drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”

silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”

“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.

“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew. 

“well, that was a shit show.”

you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual. 

“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands. 

your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”

you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.

“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”

“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.

“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”

your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands. 

“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”

iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come

luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention. 

the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder. 

annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.

you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.

annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”

you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”

you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”

“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.

“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him. 

“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.

luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”

“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”

“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”

you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars. 

iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part

“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.

“nothing.”

“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish. 

“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes. 

“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.

“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.

“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.

“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.

the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.

silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[kaciebello]

Don’t shoot the messenger

Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader (use of she/her, no use of y/n) Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts and makes her first delivery. warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, nothing else really Authors note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I wanna spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only :( • Next part: Delivery fees Word count: 1352

Notes to deliver - 1

The Slytherin bedroom is filled with the usual chatter. Two boys arguing about quidditch tactics over a cigarette, some have given up and just stared at a ceiling while nursing a glass of fire whiskey. You can hear someone's father being mentioned in almost every other sentence. Nothing magical was happening if you omit this being a school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Suddenly, the door busts as if being kicked open. Revealing, to the boys, an unknown girl wearing a green uniform they are all familiar with, her cloak being absend. Her hair is neatly in a braid tied with a bow. All chatter stops and their attention is on her. She, however, paid no mind to anyone in the room and kept looking into her notepad as if nothing happened. Taking a few steps into the room and closing the door was only an interaction with her surroundings.

Nobody says a word for what feels like an hour. “ Who are you?” a voice recognizable as Draco Malfoy spoke. Snaping her head from her notebook she finally scans the room. As if searching for something. An offended scoff is heard from the boy as his question is left without an answer.

“ Sunshine? What are you doing here?” Lorenzo asks as he sits up. Her eyes snap to him the second she hears his voice. A sweet smile spreads on her face and her eyes create moon crescents.

“ There you are! I have a note for you.” She says and takes a few steps to his sitting figure.

His friends, still confused by what is this mystery girl doing in their bedroom, could do nothing but stare as she moved across the room with ease. But she seems to pay no attention to anybody but her friend. Passing the neatly folded note to Lorenzo, she sits down and crosses something in her notebook humming happily before turning back to him with the same sweet smile. The boy in question studies the note and opens it to read it. His eyes widen and his ears go red. He turns to the girl in shock. 

“ YOU GAVE ME A LOVE NOTE???” He yells and the second those words leave his mouth all his friends surround the pair like hungry hyenas. Her smile drops and her eyes widen to the point some would think is impossible.

“ Eh? Is that what that is??” She goes to snatch the note from him, which proves to be an easy task as Lorenzo is frozen in the spot. Before she could read the note herself, however, it was too snatched from her hand by Theodore Nott and passed around his friend group.

With a frown on her face, she turns to her friend, “ I, didn't give you anything, someone gave you a love note, I just delivered it.” She said making sure to emphasize mentioning her person in the sentence.

“ So this is not from you? Because that sure sounds like an excuse, lame one at that,” says Mattheo Riddle as he waves the note in front of her face. She swats his hand away like it's a fly and he passes the note to Blasie Zabini who has yet to read it.

“No, I had no idea it was a love note,” she argues back and places her hand on Lorenzo's shoulder. “ I love you, but not like that.”

“ Are you sure? because-”

“yes.”

“no, like, if you do-”

“no”

“ Maybe we can work-”

“ I would rather jump from the astronomy tower.”

“Ouch,” he said and she just patted him on the back with fake sympathy. The note was passed back to him and he finally had the chance to look at it again. All of his friends return to studying the girl sitting on the bed.  A minute of silence is broken when Blasie speaks up. 

“ Are you, not the Hufflepuff girl sitting next to Enzo in Charms?” Looking up and smiling.

 “Why, yes I am.” she proudly announces to the room. The shock and mumbles did not phase her as her friend got her attention.

“ So who gave you this note?” Lorenzo asks seemingly coming out of his trance from just receiving a love confession.

“ I don't know, some girl gave it to me and asked me to give it to you.”  She shrugs and targets the candy bag in Draco's arms, taking a handful without the boy noticing and popping a few chocolate pieces in her mouth. “ and you just did it?” 

“For 5 galleons.” He looks at her in disbelief. 

“ You sold our friendship for galleons?” he asks not believing he's worth a pocket change.

 “ She promised another 5 if I got her an answer.”

“oh my god.”  He throws his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second as the girl next gives him a confused look.

“ what? I didn't know it was a love note. Besides-”

“ How did you get in here?” Draco cutes her as he notices her hand sneaking into his bag of candy this time, snatching it away.  The two friends turn to the group of boys standing around them.

  “ I do you one better, whose uniform is that?” Mattheo asks pointing out the obvious Slytherin uniform on the Hufflepuff girl. Her eyes narrowed, not enjoying being interrogated. As she was about to answer Lorenzo was just a second faster.

“ Her own you moron, it's a color-changing charm. Good job on that by the way.” He says, getting up from the bed and breaking the circle his friends formed around them. The girl gets up and follows him to his desk.

“ That does not answer how she got here.” chimes in Theodor. Leaning on the desk she turns to them and crosses her arms.

“I'm a Hufflepuff, we have our ways. It is not that hard to find all the secret passages.” She says nonchalantly. Next to her, Lorenzo is hunched down and scribbling something on a piece of paper. Before any more questions can be said he shoots up with a little ‘aha’ leaving him.  Taking the girl’s hand and turning it, he slaps a little note folded in half in her palm. Then he fishes up what seems to be 10 galleons from his pocket and adds that as well.

“Now sunshine, please don't ever bring me love notes ever again,” he said and started to usher the girl out of the bedroom. She gets up from her spot and walks to the door not that much bothered by her friend kicking her out.

“ What if it normal note? Can I bring that?”

“ no.” He answers as soon as he hears the first question. ‘You're no fun ‘ can be heard faintly as she says it under her nose. Opening the door she previously so elegantly kicked open, she turns to his friends one last time.

“None of you want to send a note? It will cost you only 5 galleons.”All of them shake their head not wanting to use the girls' service. She gives them a few more seconds before she takes our step outside of the door.

“ Wait, sunshine,” Lorenzo stops her with a sheepish smile on his face Wordlessly she raises an eyebrow at him.

“ Next time don't forget to change the colour of your bow.” he says and motions to the bow keeping her braid together. She looks down and sees it proudly shining the yellow colour of her house. She just chuckles and without other words, she steps out of the room and closes the door behind her. 

The room falls silent for a minute before erupting into a bickering over what happened.

Notes to deliver - 0 

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt. 2

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Y/N is finally claimed by her father, who turns out to be Zeus. Now, she’s stuck in an empty cabin as the only forbidden child of Zeus. Luke, on the other hand, is thrilled to be playing her knight in shining armour and getting her through each lonely day.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : a little bit of jealousy, arguing, Y/N being indecisive and confused (real), not proof-read

—

TAG LIST : @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @csifandom @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @jennapancake @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @kkrenae

I really hope this part is good enough 🙏

—

Being claimed was perhaps worse than staying in the Hermes cabin. The Zeus cabin was completely empty, much to Y/N’s dismay. Percy was unlucky enough to be a forbidden child too. Looks like neither of them would be having any half-siblings.

“I always knew she was destined for greatness.” Clarisse would say as if the life of a forbidden child wasn’t lonely and utterly isolated.

“Knock, knock.”

But there was one person who could light up the dim Zeus cabin.

“Hope you don’t mind that I brought strawberries. I picked ‘em myself. It was not easy work, let me tell you.” Luke chuckled as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. “Nice place.” He sarcastically said, staring at the cobwebs that littered the walls.

Y/N stared at him, unimpressed and unamused. “Being claimed was supposed to feel great. But I’m just back at square one again.” She huffed and took a strawberry Luke offered her. He sat beside Y/N, gesturing her to continue.

“You know, at least the Hermes cabin had another people. I’m stuck in this deserted cabin because my father finally decided that he wanted to see me! All I’m wondering is why it took so long. Why bother claiming me now?! Percy got claimed in under five days. I know people who have been claimed in one. Why did it take me ten years?! At least I know why I always attract trouble now. It’s because Zeus, that utter man whore, is my dad!”

Luke’s eyebrows silently raised at her words. “You’re welcome in the Hermes cabin any time, Y/N. Don’t forget that. I don’t think your dad was ignoring you… he was probably just waiting.”

“Yeah. Waiting until I finally proved myself to him. Because a child of Zeus should be a prodigy. No normal feat is allowed. It has to be impressive to gain his attention. How dumb.” Y/N scoffed.

“I was fine without him. I’ve gone my entire life never hearing from him and after ten years of being at camp, suddenly he wants to play daddy? He should’ve left me alone. But hey, at least you guys have more room in the Hermes cabin. I heard Chiron was going to move me.”

“What? But you’re practically part of the family. I mean, not exactly. It’d be weird if we were related because… you know… we’re friends and being such good friends with siblings seems weird.” Luke spoke so fast that Y/N couldn’t understand him.

She silently stared at him. “… You’re weird. Chiron just wanted to make more room for the newcomers. And, you know, I had been there for so long that I wasn’t considered new.”

“You okay, though? Your cuts aren’t still hurting? You don’t feel sick, right?” Luke carefully inspected her face and bruised arms, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Luke, I’m fine.” She reassured him, laughing. “Nothing hurts anymore.”

“Guess I’ve got to let you win the next game now.” He sighed. “I can’t believe you guessed Poseidon and got it right.”

“I took a wild guess. I wasn’t expecting it to be correct.”

Luke shrugged and stood up. “I need to go check up on some kids. A new group just arrived. Will you be alright by yourself? I can always go get Clarisse.”

Y/N stared up at him and a part of Luke wished she would ask him to stay. To stay in the stuffy cabin and just… talk.

“I think I need some alone time right now.” She softly smiled, resisting the urge to ask him not to walk out, to keep her company. “I just need to process all the shit that went down.”

Luke chuckled, ruffling her hair. “That’s my girl.” He began to walk away before he turned around last minute. “Hey, Y/N… thanks for staying by my side.”

“No problem. Thanks for being my friend, Luke.”

With a wounded heart and the embarrassment of being friend-zoned hanging high over his head, Luke walked out of the Zeus cabin.

Y/N didn’t see Luke again until a few days later. He was always so busy with the new kids but he still had time to leave a small box of strawberries on her porch.

It was dinner when Y/N could finally speak to Luke. She smiled at him and subtly waved and he grinned back. He had been talking with Chris about a boring topic but his eyes lit up when he saw Y/N. Luke stood up to sit with her before he was quickly intercepted.

“Luke.” One of the new girls said, staring up at him with her big doe eyes. She was claimed the moment she stepped into camp by Aphrodite. She seemed to already be her mother’s favourite. “Are you free to sit with me and my friends? We want to ask you a few questions.”

Luke was pulled away by the girl, leaving Y/N to watch him sheepishly grin. Y/N’s smile faltered. “I think he’s avoiding me.” She muttered to Percy, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. She felt a twisted knot of jealousy well up as a girl giggled and grabbed Luke’s arm. And he let her.

The younger boy looked up in confusion. “Who? Luke? I don’t think so. Girls just seem to really like him.”

Y/N frowned but didn’t say anything else. She could only stare again as the girls around Luke laughed as he uttered something with a bashful smile.

“I’m turning in early.” Y/N said, standing up. She pushed her plate of dessert towards Percy, who slowly took it.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling well so I think I’m going to sleep early. Good night, Percy.” She deeply inhaled as she walked away, catching Luke’s attention.

“Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be back. I need to talk to someone.” He hurriedly got up, racing after Y/N. Percy, who was eating his second serving of cake, muffled a laugh. Luke was so whipped.

“Y/N.” The brunette boy finally caught up to her. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “Why are you leaving early? We haven’t talked for weeks so I thought we could use today to catch up.”

Y/N stared at him in confusion before she turned her head and quietly laughed. She covered her mouth to conceal the noise. “Luke… it’s only been three days.”

His face dropped and he cleared his throat. “I know… I was testing you. That’s all.” Yet his eyes looked at everything but Y/N. “So, how has your cabin been?”

“Lonely. It doesn’t feel the same without Chris ranting about Clarisse.” Y/N sighed, lightly biting the inside of her cheek.

“I’m not sure if I can rant about Clarisse like Chris but I could try keeping you company.” Luke offered, gazing at Y/N with eyes that begged her to agree.

She merely shrugged, not stopping Luke from strutting into her cabin and lying down on her bed. He outstretched his arms, confusing Y/N. “Hug.” Was all he said.

Y/N was never much of an affectionate person but Luke certainly was. His gestures ranged from secretly fiddling with her fingers to picking her up and swinging her around in the middle of the battle arena.

Begrudgingly, Y/N closed the distance between them. Luke grinned, pulling her closer. A few moments later, Y/N attempted to pull away. Luke prevented her from doing so. “Five more minutes.” He whispered in her ear.

But those promised five minutes turned into an hour.

And a peaceful hour turned into all night.

And all night turned into the sun rising and Clarisse waking the pair up.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Luke.” The Ares girl snickered, folding her arms over her chest. “Your siblings are wondering where you went. I assume by the lack of clothes on the floor that you two did nothing. How surprising for you, Luke.”

“Clarisse.” Y/N warned, sitting up.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. See you at breakfast, Y/N.” Clarisse sent her friend a teasing wink before she slithered off, laughing to herself.

“Sorry. I fell asleep.” Luke muttered, stretching. He not-so-subtly placed an arm around Y/N and when she didn’t shove him away, he smiled.

“It’s fine. I’ve already prepared myself for whatever gossip is about to spread around camp.” Y/N leaned back, shaking her head, while Luke chuckled.

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Luke retorted.

Camp Half-Blood seemed obsessed with the little thing going on between Y/N and Luke. Friendship, romance, confusing situationship. The campers called it many things.

“I’m so tired.” Y/N muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. Luke took that as his chance to gaze at her. His eyes traced over the bridge of her nose and the curve of her Cupid’s bow.

He smiled to himself, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Luke. We need to get up.” As if suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity, Y/N stood up.

“Oh. Yeah. I know how you can’t miss breakfast because you get cranky without it.” Luke chuckled while Y/N shoved him.

“Get out, Luke!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. He bellowed out a laugh as he ran towards the exit.

“See you at breakfast, sweetheart!”

Y/N, with flushed cheeks and a racing mind, barged into the Ares cabin. “Clarisse.” She said, holding onto the doorframe for support. “I need your help.”

“What do you need?” Clarisse questioned as they walked side by side. Y/N sighed.

“Well, for starters, Luke is acting weird. I mean, he was always kind of weird but it’s gotten… more extreme. He’s getting so close and… calling me these pet names. What am I supposed to do? And why does it make me feel shy? Clarisse, help me!”

Y/N gripped her friend’s shoulders tightly. Clarisse lightly snorted. “Y/N, he’s just in love. Let the boy be.”

“In… love? W-With… me? In love with me?!” Y/N’s mind was spinning by now and it looked like this was her mid-life crisis. “He’s not… he can’t be… no… no… No! I have to go, Clarisse!”

Clarisse watched as Y/N sprinted off with the speed of a lightning bolt. “Haha. It’s so fun messing with them.”

“Hey, Clarisse. What’d you say to Y/N?” Luke immediately filled in Y/N’s spot. He furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Y/N.

“I just told her how in love you are with her.” Clarisse winked and laughed at Luke’s appalled face.

“You… did what?” He questioned, panicking. “Why… why would you do that?! Clarisse! Shit!”

Luke, just like Y/N, rushed off. Clarisse smiled again. “So fun.”

Y/N hid within the comforts of her own cabin. She was supposed to teach some of the newbies archery but she was sure Clarisse could fill in for her.

“Luke… in love with me… no way.” She shook her head and deeply sighed, clutching onto her blanket. “He likes that Aphrodite girl.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Speak of the devil. Luke opened the door, grinning at her. “Sorry I’m late. I tried meditating but I ended up falling asleep.” Classic him. “I brought you some food. I gotta teach some kids sword-fighting soon but I thought I’d just leave this here.”

Luke had one leg out of the door before Y/N stopped him. “Luke, can you maybe, I don’t know… stay over tonight? Again? It feels less lonely with you.” Y/N spoke slowly, as if testing the waters.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure. I’d be happy to keep you company. You can count on me, Sparky.”

Y/N scoffed, staring at Luke with her lips parted. “Sparky? No way are you calling me that.”

“Too bad. See ya, Sparky!” Luke managed to close the door before the pillow Y/N tossed his way hit him. She scoffed, looking around yet no words came out of her mouth.

“Sparky… Sparky?!” Y/N exclaimed in disbelief. “What sort of nickname is that?!”

Luke, who stood outside the door and heard Y/N, chuckled. He ran his tongue over his teeth, “Cute.”

A quiet knock on the door interrupted Y/N’s half-conscious nap. She stumbled to the entrance, slowly twisting the knob. “Hey.” She mumbled to Luke, who was holding an armful of snacks.

“Hey, Sparky.” He greeted her with his usual boyish smile. “Did I wake you?”

“I was just taking a small nap. You can always let yourself in, by the way.” Y/N muttered, yawning.

“I didn’t wanna be rude.” Luke replied as he stepped inside, brushing past Y/N. “Hey. I have an idea.” He suddenly said, spinning around. Y/N raised her eyebrows, gesturing him to continue. “I know you don’t like hanging out in this cabin so what do you say we check out the lake?”

“That’s breaking the rules.” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“Come on, I wanna go on a walk. And I’m already breaking rules being here. A few more can’t hurt.”

Y/N wanted to say no but how could she when Luke was looking at her like that?

“Fine.” She softly agreed. Luke dropped the snacks onto Y/N’s bed before dragging her out of her cabin. She didn’t even have time to grab a jacket.

Luke placed a finger over his lips, telling Y/N to be quiet. The two carefully creeped through the words, quietly giggling as they shoved each other.

“It’s prettier at night.” Y/N whispered, staring at the lake that sparkled in the moonlight. Luke smiled, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” He replied, but he wasn’t looking at the glittering water. He was looking at Y/N. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Y/N turned her head, faltering when she saw that Luke was already gazing at her. His lips curved into a bright smile.

“So, so… beautiful.” He repeated, staring into her eyes.

“Luke.” She muttered, thickly gulping. Butterflies swirled around in her stomach. After years of pushing down her growing feelings for Luke, they were coming back.

“Y/N.” He chuckled, adjusting his stance. But he slipped and fell into the lake. Y/N gasped, staring into the murky darkness.

“Luke?” She called out. “Luke!” He resurfaced, spitting out a mouthful of water. A few moments passed before Y/N burst into laughter. She stepped forward but tripped over a stray tree root. She hit the water with a loud slap, shocking Luke. He gasped, quickly swimming over. “Sparky, you good?” Luke questioned, holding her tightly.

She coughed. “It hurt a little but I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for asking, Sparky.” He twirled a strand of Y/N’s wet hair around his finger, his gaze flickering to her lips. “Don’t kill me for this, Y/N.” He whispered, leaning forward.

His lips pressed against Y/N’s, who froze in shock. The kiss only lasted a moment before Luke pulled away, holding back the animalistic urge to do it again.

“I won’t kill you… if you don’t kill me.” Y/N quietly responded, grabbing Luke by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward.

The second kiss was less controlled, more wild. Luke held Y/N tightly, scared she would slip away if he lowered his guard. In this moment, Luke didn’t care about his drenched t-shirt or his soaking hair. All he cared about, and had cared about for the last few years, was the girl in front of him

“You kissed?!” Clarisse screamed, tugging on the ends of her curled hair.

“Hey! I don’t want everybody to know!” Y/N hurriedly shushed the girl. They were hanging around in the arena for some extra sword training and Y/N clumsily mentioned last night.

“Okay, but seriously. Reel back. You guys kissed? Not once, but twice? Oh, man, Y/N. You are so whipped for Luke!”

“I am not! Besides,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke, “I heard one of the new Aphrodite girls is interested in Luke.”

“What? And you’re just gonna let her have him? You’ve been crushing on Luke since you first saw him.”

“I wouldn’t call it that! It was admiration.” Y/N quickly snapped to defend herself. Clarisse mockingly raised an eyebrow.

“You couldn’t stop gushing over how he pushed you out of harm’s way when you got claimed.” The Ares kid pointed out.

Y/N huffed. “I mean, I’m a feminist, obviously. But… I wouldn’t really mind him saving me. I’m not entirely opposed… to the idea. I’m just torn, okay?!”

“What are you confused about? Luke obliviously has the hots for you too.”

“Luke and I have been good friends for ages! I’ve known him for ages too! If we start dating and it goes up in flames… I don’t only lose a partner but I also lose a friend! There’s so many factors to consider. So many things that could go wrong.”

“You already kissed. Sooner or later, he’s gonna confront you.” Clarisse’s eyes flickered to a figure behind Y/N, “And looks like he chose now. You wanna talk to him or do you want me to make a distraction?”

“Distraction, please. I’m not ready. I need to understand my own feelings before dealing with his.” Y/N practically begged Clarisse. Being such a good friend, the daughter of Ares nodded.

“I got your back, girl.” She walked past Y/N, blocking Luke’s path. “Yo, Luke, you interested in having a little spar?”

“Uh, actually, I need to talk to Y/N.” Luke uttered, glancing over at the H/C-haired girl.

“Y/N needs to check on someone. One of the Ares kids got badly injured. You go ahead, Y/N. I’ll be with you soon.” Clarisse waved her off. Y/N silently hurried off, avoiding all eye contact with Luke.

She wasn’t ready to face him just yet. I mean, what do you say to a friend you kissed? More like made out with. And passionately, might I add. Beside a lake at night.

Y/N knew Luke would go looking for her an hour before curfew, so that’s exactly why she sought refuge in the Ares cabin.

“This feels stupid.” She murmured as she rolled under one of the bed, shooing the dust away.

“He’s obviously going to try and ask Clarisse about your whereabouts. You only have to hide under there until he leaves.” Erin, a girl who was a year younger than Y/N, spoke. As predicted, Luke knocked at the door.

“Hey.” He said when Erin swung it open. “Is Y/N or Clarisse here? I need to talk to ether of them but Y/N would be preferred.”

Erin shook her head. “No. Clarisse is showering right now. Maybe check Apollo’s cabin for Y/N. She might be helping out with the injured. She does that sometimes.”

The second Luke disappeared, Y/N crawled out from under the bed. She combed away the dust in her hair. “I know what you’re thinking.” She grumbled, looking up at Erin. “Why am I going through all this trouble? It’s complicated. I’m not ready to face him… yet.”

Erin hummed as she stepped towards Y/N. “None of us will be helpful with advice but if you really want help, visit the Aphrodite cabin.”

That’s how Y/N found herself standing on a porch decorated with pink and hearts and shining pearls. She sighed to herself before she hesitatingly knocked. A short blond girl answered the door immediately.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” She said while Y/N stared at her in discomfort. “Not in a creepy way, though. I swear. We knew you’d need help with you-know-who so we kind of planned it already. Come in.”

The girl warmly guided Y/N inside, beaming. “Our head counsellor isn’t here at the moment but Mai should be plenty of help!��� The blond girl pointed over to a brunette who sat on her bed, reading a book. She was dressed in black shorts and a pink crop top. But when Mai looked up, Y/N was sure she was judging her.

“On second thought,” Y/N nervously said, “Maybe I should come back another time. Maybe in the afternoon?”

“The time you come doesn’t matter.” Mai piped up, closing her book. She gazed at Y/N curiously. “You’re afraid of expressing your feelings, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know this was a therapy session.” Y/N lightly joked.

“Y/N, it’s obvious to everybody that you harbour some feelings towards Luke.” Mai said, pressing her pink-tinted lips into a thin line. “You guys are like the dynamic duo. I understand that dating someone who’s also a friend is scary but sometimes you’ve got to take the risk.”

“If you’re scared about going back to your cabin and running into Luke, you can crash here for the night.” The blonde girl from before offered. Nobody else seemed to have any problems with that so Y/N agreed.

She ended up on the bunk next to Mai, her unlicensed love therapist. Y/N tossed and turned but she still couldn’t fall asleep. She quietly groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Mai piped up, pursing her lips.

“No. I can’t help but worry.”

“Let me ask you one question, Y/N. Do you like him?”

“Luke?”

“I didn’t say a name.”

Y/N groaned again. “Fine. You got me. Yes. I guess I like him. I like his smile and how he’s always giving me food and how he barges in when I’m feeling lonely. I think his curled hair is adorable and there’s no other guy better-looking than him to me. But… I’m scared that I just like his platonically. Or what if we do date and I end up losing him?”

Mai smiled. “Don’t stress over it too much. You’re the daughter of Zeus, after all.”

“Yeah, thanks. Good night, Mai.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Luke approached Y/N the next day at breakfast. He let out a subtle sigh of relief when she didn’t run away. “Hey,” He whispered to her, tapping her shoulder and interrupting her conversation with Erin and Clarisse. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh, yeah.” Y/N exchanged looks with both of the girls, who nodded and mouthed good luck. “What did you want to talk about?” Y/N asked when they were in the safety of her cabin and away from all the prying eyes. She played with the hem of her bright orange shirt.

“Forgive me for how blunt I’m going to be but what are we, Y/N?” Luke asked, not beating around the bush.

“We’re friends.” Y/N choked out, her conversation with Mai last night going down the drain. Perhaps it was selfish but a part of her wanted to remain friends because at least that way, neither of them would get hurt.

“No.” Luke wildly shook his head, “Friends don’t kiss. Friends don’t spend the night in the other’s cabin. Friends don’t look at each other like we do. Friends don’t sneak out in the middle of the night to go to a lake and end up making out! And now you’re ignoring me!”

His voice increased in volume the more he spoke.

“That was a mistake, Luke! I-I didn’t meant to! It just happened! I’m not ignoring you! What makes you think that?!”

“Well, what am I supposed to think, Y/N? You’re always running off and our conversations are up and down now. Sometimes we don’t talk for days! Sometimes you seem obsessed with me! I don’t know what to think!”

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “If you’re not with Chris then you’re with that Aphrodite girl! You practically ignore me when you’re with her!” Y/N harshly poked his chest.

“I do not! And back to the previous conversation, was it really a mistake? Was hugging me a mistake? Was staring so adoringly at me a mistake? Was kissing me a mistake?! Maybe it was a mistake to you, but it wasn’t to me.” Luke caressed her face, holding it tightly. “Kissing you… will never be a mistake to me. Never, ever.”

Y/N gulped, practically shaking in Luke’s embrace. His lips lightly brushed her’s and she flinched.

“Sparky- Princess- Y/N,” He finally decided on what to call her in the heated moment. “I have feelings for you. And I have for a long time. So if you don’t like me back… just tell me. Because I can’t spend the rest of my life chasing after you. I get that you might be in denial but once I walk through those doors, I’m giving up.”

“Luke…”

“Do you like me or not?”

“Luke… please…” Y/N didn’t really know what she was begging for. Tears welled up in her eyes as he took a small step towards the door.

“Do you like me or not?” He repeated in a firmer tone.

Y/N silently stared at the ground, her hands clenched into fists.

“I guess I was wrong about you returning my feelings… I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll leave now.”

Y/N’s body moved on its own as she reached out to grab his arm and harshly pull him back. Her voice was supposed to be gentle but hanging out with Clarisse seemed to have an impact on her.

“Of course I like you, Luke! How could I not? But I’m afraid and confused and I don’t know what to do. I see the way other girls look at you. They like you. And I’m scared that I don’t stand a chance against them. And what if we mess up, Luke? If we date then break up, we won’t be able to be friends again. I can’t handle that!”

“I don’t think I can be just friends with you right now, Y/N.” Luke softly replied, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it. Y/N stared at him with flushed cheeks. “I don’t care about any of those other girls. The only person I care about is you. We don’t have to rush into a relationship but I just need to hear you say that you like me. That’s all I need for now. Can you do that for me?”

Y/N shakily inhaled. “I…” She hesitated. “I like you, Luke.”

Luke pulled her into a hug, smiling as he inhaled the sweet scent of Y/N’s perfume. “That’s all I needed to hear, Sparky.”

[pumpkinbxtch]

hello, a request please, from apollo x readerposeidon, how does apollo react if hermes tries to flirt with his girlfriend reader (hermes just wants to bother his older brother)

• this is a message for THAT nereid!

— apollo x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi baby. here's your apollo crew being jealous there's nothing more like him than that.

✷

Apollo started biting his nails as soon as he heard your laughter echoing in his dining room, which he found stupid because it was HIS dining room and you were laughing with another guy right in his face. Well, it was not just another guy, it was his brother, which made it a million times worse.

His visits used to be enjoyable, now not so much.

— So, ¿what do you say? — Hermes asked, winking at you, and Apollo wondered about the sudden need to make his life miserable by looking you in that way.

Your lips painted another smile as you playfully shook your head, glancing sideways at your boyfriend, who was struggling not to throw the vase at his brother's face. Honestly, it amused you. “This is for all the times you let that Nereid flirt with you in front of me,” you thought, it was your perfect revenge, and with his brother willing to play along, they were hitting the nail on the head.

— Hmm. What do you say, darling? We can stay in that house for the summer. It's close to the water, and I think it would help me train while waiting for the swimming tryouts.

Apollo forced a smile and nodded silently, if he spoke, he'd surely yell. Hermes played with the crystal glass and leaned slightly towards you.

— Even if my brother can't be with you all the time, you can go on your own — he said, looking at his brother, pretending to be kind, and Apollo felt his blood boil. — I'll keep an eye on her for you, brother.

Apollo scoffed — I don't want you keeping any eye on my girlfriend, thanks.

The double entendre floated between you, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to smile.

Hermes ran his hand through his black curls while making loops with his hand, trying to find words to elaborate. That was exasperating, Apollo thought he was just trying to look dashing. For his misfortune, his brother kept talking.

— I think it'll be fine, she needs it for her training, after all, right? — He turned to you with the blue eyes that every son of Zeus seemed to possess. — Although, they should fear you from now on, doll.

Apollo choked at that word and drew both of your attention.

— Is everything alright, Apollo? — Hermes smiled maliciously, and the sun god remembered the stupid rule that whoever gets angry first loses.

— Nothing — Apollo replied, snapping his fingers to start the music. maybe breaking that stupid tension.

When “The Girl Is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney started, you were close to crack up. You couldn’t believe him.

— I love this song, little bro — Hermes hummed while drumming his fingers on the glass table, passing over the message on purpose.

“'Little bro'? I'm the older one,” Apollo thought, annoyed. He couldn't wait to kick that idiot out of his mansion.

The part with the ex-beatle began, and the messenger of the gods leaned closer and starting to sing to you.

— I love you more than he… — Hermes winked at you.

— Okay, enough — Apollo exclaimed, standing up and covering his brother's mouth with his hand. He kept singing even as his voice died in your boyfriend's palms.

 Apollo growled and shot you a furious look before disappearing with him in a golden dust.

As you were left alone in the dining room, you burst into laughter and took a sip of water, impressed by your brother-in-law's performance.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you masked your smile with a serious expression.

 Apollo dusted off his hands and sat back down, his eyes fixed in the center of the table. You cleared your throat and casually propped one leg up on the chair, playing with your hair as you listened to him rant.

— And tell me, my love —your voice echoed through the palace vaults, — how does it feel? — In the midst of those emotions that had him on the edge of a psychotic episode, that question caught him off guard. You raised your eyebrows sanctimoniously and smiled smugly.

Oh.

— You! — He pointed at you accusingly, and you ran off giggling.

As he tried to catch up with you, he heard the echoes of the palace bringing the reason you played along with his brother's stupid game: “Tell that damn Nereid to screw off, you're mine!” And the brake on his heels, now fearing you'd walk back to him.

Okay, you won. Definitely, Apollo wouldn't even talk to a rock if it kept you from flirting with his brother again.

✷⁠

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | lifestyles of the rich & famous

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous by good charlotte (introduction)

a/n: introductory chapter! introducing the dynamics of the band, luke's relationship with his mom, and teenage boy antics. pre-reader and pre-chb. things will pick up quickly after this, i promise! bear with me as i set the scene :)

series masterlist | previous | next

“why the fuck am i seeing tabloids on top of tabloids with my kid’s plastered face on the front page of all of them?” 

luke winced at the sound of his mom’s voice echoing through the empty event space. chris covered the bottom half of his face with his shirt, trying to hold in his laughter. may castellan was in her usual pantsuit, high heels clacking against the floor, as she waved around trashy magazines. she was furious. 

“ignoring the fact that you are not 21 years old and cannot legally drink, what were you thinking, luke?” travis dropped his drumsticks on the ground, motioning for chris and connor to follow him backstage. they’d seen luke get chewed out by his mom more often since they started their world tour. as the three boys walked toward the side of the stage, may turned to them. “none of you are off the hook either. you may not have been on the front page, but care to listen to what they said about you in one of their glorious articles?” 

“i would actually prefer not to, mama castellan,” chris mumbled, suddenly feeling caught. all traces of humor instantly drained from his face. luke couldn’t help but scoff, the boys always gave him shit for getting yelled at by his mom, so he was glad that this time around they were all on the sinking ship. 

she dramatically cleared her throat, opening up one of the magazines. luke grimaced at the sight of him on the front page. he was sitting on the curb, his sunglasses askew, with a girl awkwardly patting his back. he doesn’t even remember this. may shot daggers at chris, who was cowering behind his mic stand, “bassist of poisoned mercury, chris rodriguez, was photographed away from the band when he was caught outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette, if you catch our drift. hopefully, his habits don’t catch up to him anytime soon.” 

she stared at the stolls next, “drummer and lead guitarist of the rising band, travis and connor stoll, didn’t miss out on the fun. they walked out of the club with two models, who looked like twins, along with a bottle of dom perignon before heading into their suv.”

“and my darling child,” her words were sweet but her tone was anything but. luke chewed on the peeling skin of his bottom lip, “superstar, teen heartthrob, poisoned mercury lead singer, luke castellan, had a great night as seen in these pictures. the resident bad boy had one too many, it seems, as he walked out of the club stumbling with a mysterious blonde under his arm. castellan couldn’t make it into the car and had to sit on the curb to puke his guts out. let’s hope his actions didn’t ruin his chance at a budding romance.” 

may closed the magazine, arms on her hips. she waited patiently for one of the boys to speak up. 

“in our defense, this was in canada,” luke tried to reason, scrunching his face up. “legal drinking age is 18.” 

that was the wrong response, luke realized, when his mom’s eyes lit up in anger. she let out a breath, “you were in toronto where the drinking age is 19, which you weren’t until yesterday.” 

“i did not know that the drinking age in canada varied by region. i always learn something new whenever i talk to you, mama castellan,” travis said, trying to lighten the mood. connor shot him a look, motioning for him to quit talking. may castellan was clearly not in the mood for jokes. 

“i am tired of you guys acting reckless,” she roared, dropping the magazines. they fell with a heavy thud. she rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, “your parents trusted me to take care of you guys while you chased your dreams and this is what you’re doing under my watch?!” 

seeing his mom at her wit's end made luke feel sick. 

“mom,” luke hopped off the stage, ignoring the sound of the magazines ripping under his feet as he landed on top of them, “we’re sorry. i’m sorry.” 

“sorry’s not gonna cut it anymore, luke,” may said, shaking her head. “after this tour, you guys are taking a break. no touring, no public appearances.” 

“what?” connor exclaimed, joining luke off the stage. the other boys followed, looks of bewilderment evident on their faces. “w-we can’t take a break now!” 

“yeah, c’mon, mama c!” chris added, shaking his head, “we’re just getting really big. if we quit now, we’ll lose this momentum.”

“you’re not quitting. it’s just a tiny break– three months,” she cut them off, raising a hand in a stop. “we’ll release a statement to the press saying you guys will be taking some time off to work on your sophomore album so people have something to look forward to when you return.” 

“okay, so that’s the cover story,” luke ran a hand through his curls. he knew that there was no winning against his mom when she made up her mind. he looked at her and spoke before the rest of the band continued their protests, “but what are we actually gonna be doing?” 

“you’re going to spend your summer in montauk, just like old times,” his mom explained, voice still stern. “you’re going to camp half blood.”

-

“what the fuck is a camp half blood?” chris asked, plopping down on the couch they had inside their dressing room. rehearsal was cut short following the news delivered by luke’s mom. 

“it’s a music camp,” luke explained, fidgeting with random things sprawled across his desk, trying to find the pack of cigarettes he hid. he really needed to clean up. “my dad used to take me there over the summer when i was younger.”

the topic of luke’s dad was a sore subject for him. his dad left him and his mom when he was 7 for some young waitress from their hometown diner. one second, he was signing up for little league with his dad as the coach; the next, he was sitting in the hallway listening to his mom cry after his dad packed a bag and left town with wendy the waitress in the passenger seat. luke hasn’t heard from him since then. last he checked, his dad was lounging beachside in santa monica with his third wife who was definitely too young for him. as far as he’s concerned, his dad was dead to him. 

but he couldn’t deny that his time at camp half blood was the place of origin of some of his best childhood memories. he got his first taste of what it was like to be on stage at camp half blood; the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pounding of his heart at the applause, the wild images in his head about what it would be like to be known for his music-- it all started at camp half blood. he was his happiest at camp, at least before his dad ruined it for him. 

“is it fun?” travis asked, twirling a fresh pair of drumsticks between his fingers. 

“used to be, yeah,” luke chuckled, hoisting himself up to sit on the desk. “haven’t been there since i was seven.” 

“dude, i do not want to hang out with a bunch of little kids all summer,” chris groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall. 

“relax, rodriguez,” luke lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before continuing. “there’s two sides to the camp. we’ll be with the older kids.” 

“oh shit, is camp half blood mr. d’s music camp?” connor asked. the name of the camp was starting to sound familiar to him.

luke took another drag, nodding, “that’s the one.” 

“dude, i fucking love mr. d. he always has the wildest stories,” travis laughed, “he’s so mellow and chill now, i wouldn’t’ve ever guessed he used to be like that.” 

“it was the 90’s,” chris shrugged, “pretty sure everyone was like that at one point.” 

“paid off for him though,” connor replied, opening a bag of doritos. he offered a chip to his brother, who in return, snatched the bag for himself. connor rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab another one. he was used to this. “i mean being a ceo of a multi-million dollar recording company isn’t too shabby.” 

luke hummed along, mindlessly, letting the chatter of his bandmates fill the air. the three boys fell into a conversation about the last time they saw mr. d at the recording studio when they were finishing up the vocals for their debut album, but luke’s mind was far away from the topic at hand. he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment from his body. he knew the way his mom looked at him would haunt him for the next few nights.

it wasn’t like he was actively trying to disappoint her– really, he wasn’t, but he just gets so caught up in the noise of fame that he forgets how to act under the pressure. there was something about his mom breaking down in front of him because of him that tore him apart. he felt guilty. his mom didn’t ask for this life, she didn’t even want it. she was content being a suburban mom in westport, connecticut, but she gave up her comfy life to let luke live out his dreams of being a musician. 

he was lucky, he knew that. not every mom would be on board with her kid dropping out of traditional high school to perform rowdy songs about teenage angst, but may castellan was okay with it because she loved luke so much and wanted him to be happy. so when poisoned mercury got a record deal with olympus records, she didn’t hesitate to drop everything and go on the road with four unruly teenagers, promising their parents that she’d take care of their sons. 

sometimes, he thinks about what his mom sees when she looks at him. he wonders if she still recognized him, the him before all the fame got to his head. 

he was may castellan’s little boy. the boy who used to beg his mom for chocolate chip cookies after a bad day at school, who used to knock on her door in the middle of the night wondering why he wasn’t enough for his dad to stay, and who cried when she got him his first guitar on his tenth birthday. for most of his life, it’s always just been him and his mom. 

now, at 19, luke didn’t know who he was anymore. he was just going with the flow, doing whatever, doing whoever, his fame and his status threw his way. he did what any teenage boy would do in his position– he drank, he smoked, he had fun, maybe too much fun, sometimes. it’s a rockstar’s life, his wildest dreams come to life, but it was a distraction, mostly. luke wasn’t brave enough to face the music just yet, so he dove into this fantasy head-first, too afraid to look back.

except sometimes, he fucks up really badly, like in toronto, and he’s forced to deal with the consequences of his actions. one time, his mom cut the band off from playing video games on the tour bus for a month after a heated argument between the four of them caused them to cancel a show. the argument was stupid. luke was adamant that scorpions did not have the same mental capacity for understanding pain that humans do and that did not bode well with travis. rehearsal ended in a brawl because travis kept doing impromptu drum solos to drown out luke’s voice. his mom was pissed that hundreds of fans were disappointed over the canceled show and it was all because they couldn’t agree over a damn scorpion. 

another time, she banned them from driving the golf carts around the venue when they crashed it into a very expensive sound system in portland. they ended up owing upwards of $4,000 for the damages and were banned from playing at the event space ever again. the four of them laughed about it when the chaos of it all subsided, and they were fine not playing at the house of hades again, but they did miss the snack bar they set up for visiting talents. chris said he still dreamt about the pomegranate juice ‘til this day. 

luke can look back at the punishments over the years fondly now. in the grand scheme of things, none of it really mattered. but going to camp half blood? this was a different type of punishment. 

luke didn’t want to go to camp half blood. the last memory he had of camp was not a welcomed one. plus, after what he experienced on tour, he could think of a million other ways to spend his summer months, and living at a camp with spotty cell service and designated arts and crafts time was nowhere near the top of the list. 

“yo, castellan,” chris’ voice snapped luke out of his thoughts. “you comin?”

luke put out his cigarette against the wood of his desk, “huh?”

“we’re grabbing food, do you wanna go with us?”

luke hopped off the desk, slipping on his black, puffer jacket, “yeah, i’m right behind you.” 

as luke was walking out of the dressing room, adjusting his t-shirt, he saw his mom talking to teddy, their publicist. they were engaged in a serious conversation, no doubt talking about the press release regarding their second album and their hiatus. luke stood in front of the door for a brief moment, a stutter in his steps, not knowing if he should interrupt.

 luke pursed his lips, deciding to jog over to his mom. 

“i think we should post it on the band accounts first before the boys announce it individually. it make–” may furrowed her eyebrows, noticing luke coming closer to her. she turned her body to face him. she looked much calmer now than she did during rehearsals, “hey, what’s wrong?” 

luke shook his head, “nothin’, mom. i just–uh, just wanted to say sorry again.”

“let’s talk later, may,” teddy gave the two of them a small smile before walking away. 

“i’m not changing my mind about camp half blood,” she frowned. “sorry, luke but i can’t have you guys running around all sum–”

“no, no, i know, mom. i-i didn’t come here to try to convince you,” luke looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. “i just– uh, shit. okay, i’m sorry for toronto. it was a bad time and it’s not fair that you have to deal with the fall out of our shit. and uh– thank you for sticking by us even though we drive you kinda crazy.” 

may laughed, smiling at her son, “you’re my kid. you know i’ll always be there to set you straight.” 

“thanks, mom,” luke chuckled, backing away to catch up with his bandmates. may waved goodbye, making her way to teddy’s makeshift office. before luke left the tunnel, he turned around, “wait mom! last thing!” 

she raised her eyebrows, “what?” 

luke raised his hand in a thumbs-up motion, grinning from ear to ear, “love you!” 

“i love you too, kiddo,” may replied, a hand over her heart. “now scram, i gotta clean up your mess.” 

[awb3r]

WE PROMISED---Luke Castellan

You met Luke Castellan 4 summers ago. You didn't know you were the daughter of a Goddess at that time, nor did you know Luke was on a quest.

Your laying on the grass in your backyard. You look over at Luke, whose pointing out a constelation. "do you have to leave?" Your eyes meeting his, your hands intertwined in the middle. He offers you a sad smile. "We'll see eachother again, i promise" He whispered to you as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "pinky promise?" you hold out your pinky, feeling his own lock with yours. A warm feeling spread through you as he placed a kisss on your hands.

Your mother sought you out after that. Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty. In contrary to the other Gods, she kept contact with you. Late night talks weren't unusual, when she would tell stories about the Gods and you would tell her yours.

you were in bed, comforted by your duvet. Your mothers voice prominent in your head. "do you think i'll see him again?" you whispered. Aphrodite didn't need to ask who you meant, Luke had made an appearance in your stories more often that not. "You will dove, i promise" Her voice soft as silk in your mind. As the Goddess of love, Aphrodite couldn't bear seeing her daughter longing for the boy any longer. She knew it was time.

Which brought you to the present, standing next to Chiron before the Hermes cabin.

A bright orange T-shirt was hanging over your arm as you took in the scenery around you. breath taking temple like cabins, each representing their own God. Strawberry fields, achery ranges and practice arena's all surrounded you. "You will reside in the Hermes cabin until you are claimed. I am sure they will make you feel at home" Chiron spoke and gave a ressuring pat on your shoulder.

You push against the door, immediately welcomed by loud voices and the smell of a fireplace. Your eyes widen as the familiar smell enters your senses.

You were laying on the couch, head burried in the crook of Luke's neck. The gentle ressurance of his hands tracing shapes on your lower back made you feel at ease. You mutterd something against his skin. He turned his head to meet your gaze. "did you say something love?" His voice soft, not wanting to break the quiet atmosphere. "You smell like a fireplace" you whispered, a small smile present on your face. He smiled back at you. "is that so?" His tone light as he captured your lips in a loving kiss.

You are torn from your thoughts as you step over the threshold. Eyes turn to you as you enter, captivated. It wasn't hard to guess you were aphrodites daugher. As you fully enter the cabin, you search for the pair of eyes you fell in love with. Your eyes lock with his across the room. His eyes wide as they meet yours. He looks almost frozen, muttering your name under his breath in disbelief before making his way to you. As you reach him, he engulfs you in his arms. You feel your feet leave the ground as he spins you around. You laugh as he sets you down and cups your face in his hands. "How are you here?" His smile wide as he asks you. "We promised, right?" You answer and seal it with a loving kiss.

XXX

[apricot-blossomss]

On my knees begging for hermes x f reader

you ask and you shall receive...

☛ hermes way of flirting with you is stealing your shit

☛ sfw, fluff, minor goddess!fem!reader, reader is mentioned to be shorter than hermes

The moment you entered your quarters, you slumped into your favorite plushy armchair, placed your godly symbol on the floor next to it and breathed a sigh of relief. Some of these days kept you real busy, even though you were only a minor diety. The whole day you had been looking forward to letting yourself be consumed by the soft cushion and your novel- that you thought you had placed on the small table next to it.

Irritated, you sat up to make sure, but, clear as day, your book wasn't where you had left it. You checked the ground next to it and under the armchair but it wasn't to be found. Maybe you hadn't put it on the table after all? Though you thought you distinctly remembered doing that. But it wouldn't surprise you if your mind had been playing tricks on you again. Over the course of the last few months, you had managed to lose a bracelet, earrings, two books, a pillow, a hairbrush and several pens. though you weren't as willing to stock it up to your forgetfulness as you once were.

Case in point, your book wasn't in the shelf either and you begrudgingly settled for another one to snuggle into your armchair with. The crazy thing, you thought to yourself while opening the first page, was that some of the items had been in your bag or directly from your skin without you noticing losing them. If they really were just lost, some mortal woman was probably overjoyed with finding you divinely forged jewelry right now. But if this was some sort of trick... Hermes was the god of tricksters. Could it be...?

No. Why would Hermes have anything to do with this? You were only a minor goddess while he was one of the twelve olympians. Why would he be stealing from you? Still, you found it to be harder and harder to believe that you had misplaced all of these items.

With a sigh, you chose to postpone your speculation and concentrate on your novel. The day had worn you down, even gods could get exhausted. So it was no wonder you were slipping into peaceful stumbler only a few minutes after. Your book dropping to the ground didn't wake you, having fallen asleep in your comfortable armchair.

From the lights inside your quarters and the open windows, Hermes had concluded that you had to still be awake, making the thrill of snatching something else away straight from under your nose even more exciting. Giddily, he entered your living room through the window when his eyes fell on you, curled up in your armchair, an open book on the floor before it, sleeping peacefully.

Careful not to make a sound, he stalked over to you and looked down on your peaceful face. Every time you huffed out a breath, you made a cute little sighing sound and a loose strand of hair moved away from your mouth, only to settle back on your face when you breathed in. Bewitched by the enthralling sight, he couldn't do anything but look for a few seconds. Then, his eyes wandered to your godly symbol next to your seat. Your most priced possession. Was there anything better to steal to get your attention?

In under a minute, he had picked up your symbol, stored it in his pocket and pulled out a winged coin out of its depths that he carefully placed on your palm. Though you didn't wake up, you mumbled something incoherent in your sleep when his fingers closed yours around his coin. Your hands were warm, cute. Before he left the way he had come, he picked up a blanket off your couch and draped it on top of your sleeping form. Tucking you in, he laughed to himself when you gripped his coin tighter in your sleep and left through the window.

🪽

Enough was enough. This was the last straw.

When you had woken up this morning, ecstatic at the prospect of your free day and strangely warm given the fact that you didn't remember having a blanket the night before, your first instinct had been to pick up your godly symbol. But it was gone. And it was not to be found anywhere in the house. In its place, you only found a coin. A coin you very distinctly recognized.

So now here you were. In the divine gardens of a fellow god where you knew the object of your ire stopped everyday on his errands to steal himself some apples. A little nervous, you picked your fingernails. Without your godly symbol, you felt vulnerable, and your nerves weren't soothed by the fact that you were about to confront the thief, who just happened to be your long time crush.

But enough was enough. This wasn't just some playful prank anymore. The loss of your symbol directly impacted your godly duties. And he had been messing with you for far too long. You shouldn't be surprised- who but him could steal the earrings from your ears without you even noticing? What had you confused was- why? Hermes was known to steal to his hearts content from his fellow major gods, even their godly symbols, but you were a quite a few levels under that in terms of importance.

A rustling pulled you out of your contemplation and you quickly hid behind a tree. None other than the god of trickery lowered himself to the ground just a few feet from you, you could hear rustling when he searched the trees for ripe fruit.

"Eriounios!" you called him by his epithet, and he turned to you with feigned surprise when you emerged from behind the tree, hands on your hips and not at all dying inside from the sly smile he gave you.

He greeted you with your name and wiggled an apple in your direction. "Want one? I hear they are the most delicious on the whole of Olympus, so they must be almost as sweet as you, honey."

The pet name had your cheeks flaring up but you didn't budge. "No thank you. I am no thief." Since he made no effort to close the distance between you two, you did, until you were only about a foot apart. Hermes would never admit it, but he couldn't help but ogle your chest when your crossed your arms and glared up at him.

He smiled down at you calmly in return and took a bite out of his apple. "Shame." His flirtatious wink almost managed to distract you, but you stood your ground and contemplated how to approach the issue the best. It was no good to be overly angry, but it had to be firm.

"Give it back, Hermes."

"What are you talking about?" he munched innocently and twirled around the apple in his hand. But the way his eyes sparkled with a hidden amusement at your predicament, you knew this was his doing.

Your exasperated sigh only made his smile widen. "My godly symbol. You took it. Not only that, but you have been stealing from me for months now. I thought I was going crazy, but it was all you, wasn't it?" You realized you were rambling and raging and took a long breath to calm down. "Look, I get it, this is what you do, but you went too far with that last one. I need my godly symbol, can I please have it back? You can keep the rest."

"Hey, I don't know what or who took your symbol, but I had nothing to do with it," Hermes grinned and discarded the rest of the apple. "And I really have to get back to work now, honey, though I would love to continue this conversation another day-"

Before he could run, you grabbed his arm and stood on your toes to face him. Still, he loomed over you and if the teasing look on his face was any indication, he found your efforts to be more cute than anything. "Quit playing. Please," you huffed in frustration and poked his chest with your index finger. "I know that it was you who took them, where are they?"

"You look very pretty when you're angry," Hermes flirted, but you didn't let yourself be softened by his charming words. You were about to throw another plea at him, or a threat, or a demand, when the trickster god gently took your wrist and leaned close to you. "Alright, if you can solve this riddle, I miiight give you a hint."

"No riddles," you retorted, not quite sure where you found the courage to talk to a major olympian god like this. "No games."

"Just one?" Since he didn't budge, you gave him a reluctant nod but freed your wrist to cross your arms once more.

He leaned down regardless, until his mouth was brushing your ear, as if he was telling you a secret. "It holds your power, strong and bright, But in my hands, it’s out of sight. Return it I might, if you can guess, Where does it rest? Take a wild guess!"

"So you do have it!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his self satisfied face. "Where is it?"

"Well, that's the riddle, isn't it?" he smiled teasingly.

"And the rest, that was you, too?" you asked.

"Ah, alright, yes, that was me, honey," he admitted, shrugging. "I must say, no offense, but you were quite easy to steal from. Or were you just so taken with me that you didn't see what my hands were doing?" Your face was burning, but he wasn't done. Out of his bag, he pulled your godly symbol and let it dangle in front of your face. "But alas, you managed to catch the thief."

Suddenly, you realized something and smiled up at him. "Only because he wanted to be caught, I fear. You left this." You showed him his coin. "Now, why would you do that?"

"Every master has a slip up from time to time," he answered suspiciously nonchalantly and held out your symbol for you to take. "Here you go, honey. I promise not to take it again- at least for a while."

You took it and frowned at him. "You gave me a scare. I thought I was going mad, you know?"

"Ah, sorry," he replied and it sounded surprisingly earnest. "I didn't do it to upset you, you know? 'Was just enjoying your attention, I guess." You were surprised to find his cheeks somewhat rosy. Was he... blushing? No way. That was your job. But there was a hint of sincerity in his voice when he draped an arm around your shoulders and teased: "And I do enjoy seeing you get this flustered. You are always so put-together."

"And... this was your way of getting my attention," you deadpanned. "Could've just asked me out." That last part was mumbled, actually just to yourself, but he caught up on it and gave you a look of surprise.

"Would you have said yes?"

"Yes," you answered way to quickly and averted your face in embarrassment. "Ah, anyway, here's your coin, I'll be leaving you to your work now."

"Keep it," he said softly, taking your outstretched hand and closing your fingers around the coin. His touch sent tingles up your spine, and as if he knew, he gave you another teasing smile. "You know, the apples here land in that one cafe's apple tarts. Rumor has it they are delicious."

"Sounds good," you answer breathlessly, resisting the urge to chew on the inside of your cheek to relieve stress. Hermes himself was asking you out. Gods, this was the best day of your life, and it had started out so bad! Though, when you now thought about it, the theft wasn't so bad, now that you would be going on a date with the thief.

"Expect the rest of your stuff in the mail," Hermes said and if you weren't mistaken, his smile was even brighter than before. "Along with the table reservations."

"Alright," you smiled, cheekbones aching in the best way. There was a noticeable pep in your step when you turned to leave, one that didn't go unnoticed by the other god. You couldn't help but turn around one more time and your heart fluttered when you found him already looking at you. He waved, and that was when you noticed something shiny wrapped around his fingers. Your hand shot up to your neck, but it was gone. Your necklace.

Instead of going back to get it, you only smiled and shook your head at his triumphant grin. You saw him take off and then, you were alone, admits the apple trees, with a sweet fuzzy feeling in your tummy, and your heart stolen by the best of all thieves.

[divinevault]

What would dancing with the gods/goddesses be like? (you can choose whoever to write this for if you’d like to write multiple, but I would love for it to include Hermes!)

Dancing with the Deities

Featuring: Apollo, Ares, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite x Reader

Summary: How they dance with you— ballroom style.

CW’s: None! Pure fluff

Reader is: Gender neutral

Words:

Type: Headcanons

Apollo has known how to dance from a young age. His movements are fluid and easy to follow— and he’s more than happy to lead or to follow. If you’re not great at ballroom dancing, which is perfectly understandable, he has more than enough patience to teach you. There is no judge here— just you, and him.

Ares is shockingly good at dancing. If you ever ask him, he’ll just wave it off as another way to keep smooth on his feet— which is true. What he won’t tell you is the hours he used to spend late at night perfecting the art, purely just so that he could rub it in Athena’s face. Either way, there’s always a hint of smugness on his face (whether or not you can see it) when you dance together— and if you don’t know how, well. He’s prepared to teach you.

Athena cannot dance. She’s the goddess of wisdom and strategy and although she could learn, it never came naturally, so she never put in the time and effort to. It’s not as if she really danced with anyone at important occasions anyway, so she never thought it useful. You dancing with her is you leading her along— lots of giggles and exasperated sighs as she steps on your feet and blushes at her accidental trip-up.

Hermes is always light on his feet and almost cat-like in grace, so you’d be unsurprised to know that he can dance really well with you— the catch being, he doesn’t know how to lead. Wild, right? You’re not sure whether he’s lying to you or if he just likes you leading him along.

Aphrodite is all about dancing. Her movements are graceful and playful as she spins about and spins you in turn. She loves to make it fun and enjoyable— none of that stiff, rigid rule things. She’s an excellent dance partner and will giggle with you if either of you fall over.

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Godly Things | Chapter 07 Chapter 07 | renewal⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

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The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

The echoes of screams and steel still seemed to bounce off the walls of your mind, yet here, in the dimness of your small room, there was nothing but silence.

Your eyes stayed fixed on your hands, fingers slightly trembling, stained with sweat, dust, and the faint impression of lyre strings.

You didn't move when the knock sounded—gentle but deliberate. A pause, then another knock, more insistent.

You drew in a slow breath, closing your eyes for a brief moment before forcing yourself to rise, your legs heavy, as though the floor might swallow you whole.

The effort it took to cross the room felt monumental, each step echoing the weight of everything that had transpired.

You paused, your hand hovering over the door handle for a moment longer than necessary, your mind briefly drifting back to the sight of the great hall—blood pooling across the marble, the scent of death thick and metallic, bodies strewn in the grotesque aftermath.

The image was there for only a second before you pushed it away, burying it somewhere deep, somewhere you wouldn't have to face right now.

When you finally opened the door, Telemachus stood there, his silhouette almost blending into the dim hallway behind him.

He was covered in dried blood, dark streaks marring his skin and tunic. His face was a mask of exhaustion, shadows deepening under his eyes, yet his gaze was still sharp, still searching, as though even now he was ready to act.

His hair was disheveled, the curls sticking to his forehead, and the tightness around his mouth spoke of the strain he was under, the burden of what he had done.

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his, the question slipping out in a whisper, softer than you intended. "Is it done?"

For a moment, his gaze flickered, the exhaustion in his eyes softening to something else—something like regret or maybe understanding. He sighed, the sound heavy, like it came from the deepest part of him. "It's done," he said, his voice low, almost reverent.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips before you could stop it, your shoulders loosening slightly as the tension began to ebb away.

Though you understood this was the way things had to go, that this was the consequence of the suitors' actions, you couldn't help but feel the fragility of it all—how fleeting human life truly was.

One moment these men had been laughing, feasting, vying for a throne they did not deserve, and the next... nothing.

The silence of the great hall, the emptiness of death—it was stark, final.

You blinked, focusing back on Telemachus, and the memory of his actions flashed in your mind—the way, as soon as the massacre had ended, he had found you.

The hall had still been filled with death, the scent of blood thick in the air, yet he had been at your side, his hands gentle as he guided you away.

You remembered the way his voice had dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear as he urged you to close your eyes. "Don't look," he had said, his tone soft, a stark contrast to the lethal determination he had shown only moments before.

He had shielded you, turned your head away from the sight of the fallen, ushering you from that room of death with a tenderness that felt almost out of place, but deeply needed.

The memory lingered, his presence a stark contrast to the carnage left behind. His hand had been warm, steady, a lifeline amidst the chaos.

The blood on his skin had smeared onto yours, a reminder of what had happened, but in that moment, all you could feel was his warmth, his reassurance.

He had spoken to you softly, his breath brushing against your temple as he murmured that it was over, that you were safe now.

Safe.

It was such a fragile word, yet in that moment, with Telemachus by your side, you almost believed it.

"____," Telemachus said softly, your name pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his, and you saw the concern etched into his features, the way his brow furrowed slightly as he watched you.

"I wanted to let you know what's happened since... since you left the hall," he began, his voice still carrying that edge of exhaustion, but also something warmer, a gentleness reserved just for you. "Father's first priority was to cleanse the palace. Both spiritually and physically." His eyes darkened slightly, his gaze drifting for a moment, as if recalling the grim work. "He commanded that the hall be purified, that the bodies of the suitors be cleared. He wanted everything cleansed—the stench, the memory. He demanded that it be done immediately."

He paused, his eyes searching yours, and you could see the weight of his next words in the way he hesitated. "He ordered the disloyal maidservants to do it. The ones who... entertained the suitors. It was their punishment." He swallowed, his jaw tightening. "They carried out the task, clearing the bodies, scrubbing the blood. It was... not easy to watch."

You nodded slowly, your heart sinking. A part of you felt for them, for the horror of what they had been forced to witness and do.

Yet, you understood. Their betrayal had run deep, and the punishment, harsh as it was, felt just.

Balance had to be restored, even if it came at a heavy cost.

Telemachus must have seen the conflict in your eyes because he offered you a tired smile, a small attempt to lighten the mood. "But... not everything has been grim," he said, his voice softening, a spark of warmth returning to his gaze. "Father reunited with Mother."

Your breath caught, your eyes widening as a soft gasp escaped your lips. "Truly?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes shining with sudden hope. "The queen knows?"

Telemachus nodded, his smile growing. "Yes. She knows. It took some convincing, of course." He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Mother was cautious, uncertain. After all that she endured—the lies, the suitors' deceptions—she needed proof. She tested him." He paused, his eyes meeting yours, his expression softening further. "She asked Eurycleia to move their bed out of the room. The bed that Father built himself. The one that can't be moved because one of its posts is a living olive tree."

You watched him, your heart swelling as warmth began to spread through your chest, pushing away the lingering shadows.

Telemachus continued, his voice filled with quiet pride. "Father's reaction was... passionate. He was indignant, even, that anyone would think the bed could be moved. That reaction was all the proof Mother needed. She knew then that it was truly him."

A smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. The thought of your queen, finally at peace, her long years of waiting rewarded—it filled you with something close to joy.

After everything, after all the heartache and fear, she had her husband back.

Ithaca had its king, and Penelope had her Odysseus.

"I'm so glad," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "She deserves this. They both do."

Telemachus nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "We all deserve a little peace," he said quietly, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift, the heaviness replaced by something gentler, something hopeful.

But then, his expression turned grave, and he looked away from you for a second, his eyes darkening as if he were gathering his thoughts. Telemachus drew in a slow breath before speaking, his voice lower, almost hesitant. "There's... another thing I wanted—needed to tell you," he began, his gaze flickering back to meet yours, the seriousness in his eyes unmistakable.

You felt your stomach tighten, the sense of foreboding settling like a stone in your chest.

"Father decided that cleaning the hall and purging the memory of the suitors wasn't enough," he continued, each word heavy, deliberate. "Those who were disloyal to our family had to face something harsher—a punishment fitting their betrayal."

You nodded slowly, understanding what he meant, your heart sinking further.

Your thoughts immediately went to Cleo—how she had seemed so certain of her choices, so defiant. You wondered how she would take it, if she had even expected this outcome.

Telemachus cleared his throat, his jaw clenching as he looked at you, his eyes searching for something—maybe understanding, maybe forgiveness. "At first, Father simply wanted them banned, expelled from Ithaca. He thought that was enough," he said, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. "But I... I insisted that it wasn't." He swallowed, his gaze dropping to the floor, a flash of shame crossing his features. "Their betrayal was unforgivable. I felt that they needed to be held accountable in a way that truly reflected the gravity of what they had done. I... pushed for a harsher punishment."

He paused, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his face tightening with determination. "Father gave me the green light to decide. He let me take over."

You blinked, your heart suddenly racing in your chest, a cold dread washing over you.

Cleo.

Her face flashed through your mind—her smile, her laughter, the way she had nudged you with that teasing grin, the way she had spoken about living freely, without care for consequences.

Your voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper. "What... what happened to them? To Cleo?"

Telemachus' expression hardened, his gaze steady but filled with an emotion you couldn't quite name—regret, perhaps, or maybe a sense of duty fulfilled. "I ordered the disloyal women to be led outside the palace," he said, his voice devoid of any softness now. "They were executed by hanging—it was meant to reinforce the message that their betrayal had cost them their place in Ithaca." He paused, his eyes flickering away from yours, as though ashamed to meet your gaze.

Your legs suddenly felt weak, the strength draining from them as the full weight of his words hit you. You reached out, your hand grasping the doorframe for support, your knuckles turning white as you leaned into it.

Cleo... was dead?

The world seemed to blur for a moment, the edges of your vision darkening as you tried to steady your breathing. You swallowed hard, your mind reeling, unable to fully process the reality of it.

She was gone. Just like that. A life snuffed out, her laughter silenced... forever.

You closed your eyes, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you tried to ground yourself, to find some sense of stability amidst the turmoil in your chest. The room felt as though it was closing in, the air too thick, too heavy.

Telemachus' voice broke through the haze, softer now, almost pleading. "I know it was harsh. I know. But I couldn't let it go unpunished. Not after everything." He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours again, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and conviction. "I had to do what I believed was right for Ithaca. For my family."

You nodded faintly, not trusting yourself to speak, your throat tight with emotion. You understood, on some level, why he had done it. But that understanding didn't make the pain any less real, any less sharp.

"I'm sorry, ____" Telemachus whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm so sorry." he reached out, his hand gently brushing against your arm, but then he pulled away, as if unsure of whether he should offer comfort or remain distant.

You took a shaky breath, swallowing down the hurt that rose within you. It was painful, the realization that someone who had once laughed by your side, who had shared moments of friendship, was gone.

But still, you forced yourself to take a step toward the prince, your legs feeling heavy as though each movement took all of your strength.

A wobbly smile pulled at your lips as you looked up at him, tears swimming in your eyes, blurring your vision just a little.

Your hand shot out, quick and instinctive, wrapping around his before he could pull away entirely.

The warmth of his skin grounded you, your fingers trembling as they closed around his.

"It's... it's okay," you croaked out, the words shaky but sincere. You paused, clearing your throat, trying to steady your voice. "I understand why you did what you had to do. There is no excuse for the betrayal they committed... not after everything Queen Penelope endured, all the kindness she still showed even in her darkest times."

You watched as Telemachus' face slowly began to untighten, the tension in his features easing.

His shoulders sagged slightly, the weight he carried seeming to lessen, even if just for a moment. He fully grasped your hand now, his fingers interlocking with yours, and he stared at you, his eyes filled with both sorrow and gratitude.

You continued, your voice softening, trailing off with a sigh. "The only thing I am truly sad about... is Cleo. Her decisions, the way she chose to live—it wasn't supposed to end like this." You closed your eyes for a brief moment, shaking your head slowly, trying to push away the image of her face.

When you opened your eyes again, you squared your shoulders, squeezing Telemachus' hand a bit tighter. "But I understand, my prince. I do." You forced yourself to smile again, hoping that it might bring him some comfort, even if it couldn't heal the wounds entirely. "We move forward from here, as we must."

Telemachus' gaze softened, and he nodded, his eyes glistening with a mixture of emotions. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you. I... I needed to hear that." His eyes searched your face, as if trying to gauge whether you were alright, whether you could handle what came next.

You swallowed, offering him a small nod, though the words you wanted to say felt caught in your throat, tangled with all the emotions you didn't know how to express.

He nodded back, a hint of a weary smile tugging at his lips. "We have much to do," he said, his voice a little stronger now, a little more like the Telemachus you knew—the one who had always looked forward, even when the weight of the world tried to hold him down.

And you knew he was right.

The massacre was over, but the real work was just beginning.

☆

☆

Side by side, you walked through the palace corridors, the silence between you both as heavy as the air that hung in the aftermath of all that had happened. The long hallway to the throne room seemed endless, each step echoing faintly against the cold stone floors.

The few servants who passed by moved with downcast eyes and hushed footsteps, their presence almost ghostly. You counted only one or two every other minute, each one looking tired and burdened by the knowledge of the events that had taken place.

Your eyes flickered to Telemachus, a worried frown pulling at your brows; you couldn't help but voice the fear gnawing at your chest as you stared up at him. "Were we truly betrayed by so many?"

Telemachus let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly, the weariness evident in the lines of his face. "Yes," he admitted, his tone thick with exhaustion. "There were more than we imagined... We'll have to find new servants, people we can trust, but until then... we'll manage."

Your lips pressed together, your brow furrowing even further at his words. You could see the strain etched across his features, the weight of what lay ahead already pressing down on him.

Without thinking, you blurted out, "Maybe we can start by training some of the sheep to carry trays—at least they're loyal."

Telemachus blinked, a look of confusion crossing his face before he realized you were joking. A surprised laugh escaped him, sudden and unguarded, his eyes widening slightly as he shook his head. "That's horrible," he muttered, though the corner of his mouth lifted into a reluctant smile.

You giggled, a small sense of triumph bubbling up within you at the sight of his smile. There was a pep in your step now, pride welling up inside you for managing to lighten his burden, if only for a second. "Horrible, maybe," you said playfully, "but it made you laugh, didn't it?"

Telemachus shook his head again, the smile lingering on his lips as he glanced at you, the weariness in his eyes softening just a bit.

The two of you continued on, the throne room drawing nearer with each step.

As you rounded the corner, the grand doors to the throne room came into view. Telemachus paused, reaching out to push one of the heavy doors open, his other arm extending just slightly for you to slip through first.

You met his eyes, offering him a soft smile as you whispered, "Thank you." You slipped under his arm, stepping into the room, with Telemachus following close behind.

The moment you entered, both of you froze at the scene before you.

In the center of the throne room, instead of the two royal seats occupied by separate figures, there was a single, intimate silhouette—Odysseus and Penelope, wrapped in each other's arms, oblivious to the grandeur surrounding them.

They stood at the heart of the space, a quiet monument to love and endurance.

Penelope's arms rested around Odysseus' shoulders, her hands gently tracing the back of his neck, as if grounding herself, ensuring he was real.

She looked down at him with a softness in her gaze that betrayed years of longing, a gaze only two people who had known both separation and deep love could share.

Her dark hair cascaded down her back, catching hints of the sun's warmth, and her face, usually guarded and composed, was now tender, her lips parted in a silent reverence.

Odysseus, in turn, gazed up at her with an expression that was almost childlike in its vulnerability.

The lines of hardship and the sharpness of war softened in his face as he looked at his wife, his hand lifting to trace the curve of her cheek with a gentle reverence. His thumb brushed just below her eye, a touch so light it seemed almost as if he feared she might vanish if he pressed too hard.

There was a tenderness in his eyes, a deep, unwavering devotion that spoke of both gratitude and relief—relief that, against all odds, he had returned to her, that this moment, once only a distant hope, was finally real.

As he traced her face, his hand slid up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the warmth of his palm. She tilted her head down, pressing her forehead to his, her lips curling in a gentle, almost shy smile, one that held years of love, longing, and relief

They didn't need words. The silence between them was rich and full, a communion that transcended speech, filled only by the gentle cadence of their breathing and the slow, rhythmic beat of their hearts.

Their love, once tested by time, loss, and separation, had returned to bloom, stronger and more resilient than ever.

The throne room itself seemed to share in their reunion.

The sunlight bathed the scene in a warm, golden hue, illuminating the lovers as if blessing them.

The once cold stone of the palace was now softened by the light, casting an ethereal glow that made everything feel otherworldly, almost enchanted.

The columns, the high vaulted ceiling, even the shadows themselves seemed to embrace the moment, framing the couple in a warm, protective cocoon.

You and Telemachus found yourselves hesitating at the threshold, not wanting to break the spell that enveloped them.

Telemachus' hand lingered on the door, his gaze fixed on his parents. His expression was a mixture of awe and deep, unspoken emotion.

His mother and father, finally reunited, had become more than parents or rulers in this moment—they were a testament to everything he had fought for, a symbol of everything that made this kingdom worth saving.

For a moment, the two of you simply watched, the light and peace of the room seeping into your souls.

The throne room was empty, yes, but it was fuller than it had ever been—filled with the presence of those who had returned, with the love that had endured, and with the hope of a new beginning.

The peace in the room seemed timeless, untouched by the world's sorrows, as though the gods themselves had blessed this moment, wrapping the long-awaited lovers in a warmth that was both eternal and fragile, like a dream finally brought to life.

Odysseus, sensing his son's presence, turned his head slightly, a soft smile forming on his lips as he said, "Hello, Telemachus. Hello to you as well. ____."

But even as he acknowledged his son and you, he didn't release Penelope. He held her closer, as though anchoring himself in her warmth, her solidity, as if reassuring himself that she was no figment of his imagination.

His other hand moved to the small of her back, drawing her just a fraction closer, and Penelope straightened to face you and Telemachus, her arm still wrapped around her love. Her gaze was tender, her eyes shimmering with both joy and a vulnerability rarely seen.

Penelope's lips curved into a smile, and she reached out with her free hand, her voice soft and filled with affection. "My son," she said.

Telemachus took a step forward, his movements almost hesitant, his steps jittery as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

When he finally reached his parents, both Odysseus and Penelope wrapped him up in their arms, pulling him close, holding him securely between them.

You watched, feeling your heart swell with warmth. Your eyes shimmered, tears blurring your vision as you placed your hands over your chest, as if to hold in the feeling of love and relief that threatened to overflow.

For a moment, it was as if Telemachus was a child again—sheltered between the two people who meant everything to him, the tensions of the past few days melting away as this family was finally reunited.

The sight brought a small smile to your face, and you could almost feel the weight of all the fears and worries lifting. The image before you was something sacred—something that spoke to hope, to love that could endure the worst of trials.

Penelope turned her head, her eyes catching yours as her smile widened. She waved at you gently, her voice inviting, "Come here, dear."

You blinked, a bit taken aback, your brows rising as you stuttered, "M-Me?"

A soft chuckle escaped both Penelope and Odysseus. Odysseus nodded, his gaze warm. "Of course. Penelope has told me all about you," he said, his voice full of appreciation. "You played a vital role in keeping our kingdom alive. You have our deepest gratitude."

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you nodded, feeling a rush of warmth and something akin to disbelief. Softly, you began to walk up the steps toward the royal family, your steps shaky, your heart racing.

When you reached them, Telemachus looked at you with that warm, familiar smile that never failed to calm your nerves. He gently reached out, grabbing your hand.

You let out a small yelp of surprise as he pulled you forward, drawing you into the embrace.

Suddenly, you were wrapped in warmth—surrounded by Penelope, Odysseus, and Telemachus.

It was overwhelming in the best possible way, the love and warmth pressing in on you from all sides.

You could feel Penelope's arm resting gently against your back, Odysseus' sturdy presence beside you, and Telemachus' hand squeezing yours.

Your heart raced in your chest, and you could feel tears stinging your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of happiness.

For a moment, everything felt perfect—like all the pain, the uncertainty, the fear, had been worth it just to be here, embraced by the people who had fought so hard for this peace.

Your chest tightened, filled with hope, warmth, and love.

It was a family reunited, and though you were not born into it, in this moment, you felt as though you belonged.

For once, there was no distance between you and those you stood beside—you were part of something larger, something enduring, and it filled your heart with a sense of quiet joy.

Slowly, the embrace broke.

Penelope and Odysseus still held each other, their arms wound tightly as though unwilling to let go even for a second, while you found yourself standing beside Telemachus, his presence comforting by your side.

Odysseus then turned, his gaze sweeping the room, pausing for a moment on each face—Penelope's steadfast gaze, Telemachus' thoughtful expression, and even your own, as if pulling strength from those who had stood beside him.

He drew in a breath, the tension in the air palpable. "My dear family, and you, who have been loyal to us through everything," he began, his voice rich with emotion, "our journey has been long and arduous, filled with trials I would not wish on anyone. Ithaca has suffered in my absence. Our people have faced uncertainty, hardship, and loss."

You saw Penelope's expression darken, her brow furrowing as those memories returned—the suitors, the constant manipulation, the feeling of being cornered.

Telemachus, too, looked down for a moment, his eyes clouding with thoughts of the years without his father, the struggles, the moments when hope had seemed lost.

"But," Odysseus continued, his voice rising above the weight of the past, "we are here now. We have survived, and we will rebuild." He looked to Penelope, his gaze softening. "Together, we will heal these wounds. I will not let Ithaca remain broken, not when it has so much potential for prosperity."

There was a conviction in his voice, the kind that left no room for doubt. The people deserved a leader who not only defended them from threats but also ensured their prosperity.

And he wanted to give them that.

You could hear the weight of his words, each one resonating with a sense of duty. He was not merely concerned with power; Odysseus was a protector, a man who saw his kingdom not as territory, but as people who needed him.

He then turned to Telemachus, his gaze softening, the fire in his eyes shifting to something more paternal, more tender. "Telemachus," he addressed, "As the rightful heir to Ithaca, you have much to learn. The road won't be easy, but together we can restore Ithaca to what it should be," he added, his voice laced with both challenge and hope. "Are you ready for what lay ahead?"

You watched as Telemachus listened, his face serious, his eyes reflecting the weight of his father's expectations. There was no hesitation, no hint of the boy who had once doubted himself.

Instead, you saw a young man who had faced darkness, who had seen the price of weakness and betrayal, and who had emerged with a stronger will.

Telemachus seemed to stand a little taller before his father, his posture straightening, his eyes meeting Odysseus' with newfound strength and understanding. "I understand, Father. I am ready," he replied, his voice steady, a glimmer of something resolved in his eyes. "I have waited for this my whole life—to learn, to be worthy of this kingdom, and of you."

You could see the resolve in his eyes, the promise he silently made to both his father and himself.

The trials of the past days had forged him into someone who understood the cost of leadership—the sacrifices that must be made, the difficult choices that lay ahead, and the burden of carrying the hopes of others on his shoulders.

Odysseus smiled, a warmth crossing his features that was rare in the years of battle. He stepped forward, his free hand reaching out to rest on his son's shoulder. "Telemachus, you have already proven yourself worthy. What remains is for us to build this future, side by side. It will be hard—harder still than what we have faced—but I believe in you. I believe in us."

You watched as Penelope closed her eyes for a moment, as if to absorb the strength of Odysseus' words, her lips curving into a faint smile. She reached her hand out to her son, her fingers brushing against his arm. "Telemachus, Ithaca is as much yours as it is ours," she said, her voice filled with both love and a gentle seriousness. "This is your future too."

Telemachus nodded, his chest rising as he took in a deep breath. Then he turned, looking down at you standing beside him. His eyes were kind but tinged with uncertainty, and you could see the vulnerability beneath that mask of resolve. "We have all had to make sacrifices," he said softly, his words directed towards you. "And you—you've been with us, helped us more than you know."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your heart pounding at the sincerity in his voice.

The royal family—Odysseus, Penelope, and Telemachus—were not just rulers, not just legends. They were a family bound by love, by their trials, and by the quiet promise of better days ahead.

You gave Telemachus a small nod, your eyes meeting his. "I am honored to serve," you managed, though your voice was barely a whisper.

Penelope's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her hand tightening around her husband's arm. "We have waited so long for this day," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "And now that you are here, I know we can do it—together."

Then, Odysseus' eyes softened as he turned to his wife, his smile growing warmer. "Now, Penelope, prepare a feast—a gathering not for celebration, but for remembrance and hope. It is time to honor those who have been lost, those who fought for Ithaca, and to mark the beginning of a new era."

Penelope smiled, a soft, knowing expression crossing her face. "Of course, my love," she said, her voice gentle, filled with both relief and affection. She glanced towards Telemachus, who in turn looked towards you, his eyes lighting up with an idea.

"Perhaps you could play for us," Telemachus suggested, his gaze resting on you, a hint of encouragement in his expression. His mother immediately nodded, her eyes sparkling in agreement. "Yes, please do. It would bring such warmth to the gathering," Penelope added, her voice sincere.

You felt Odysseus' eyes cut to you, his gaze evaluating for a brief moment before softening. "I have encountered many in my travels," he began, his voice carrying the weight of experience, “but I do not think I have ever heard one play or sing a tune as sweetly as you." His compliment was genuine, his eyes holding yours as though to impress upon you the depth of his words.

Heat rose to your face, and you bowed your head slightly, a warm smile spreading across your lips. "Thank you, my king," you replied, your voice filled with pride. "I would be honored to play."

With that, the conversation shifted towards preparations, the room slowly filling with a sense of purpose.

You found yourself standing beside Telemachus once more, his hand briefly brushing against yours as you both turned to follow his parents. A small smile played on your lips as you looked towards the future—one that, for the first time in a long while, felt hopeful and bright.

A/N: alright, first arc done/building up the romance between telemachus, now onto two our nextn contestants. hm, should it be apollo or hermes? or should i leave apollo last to meet???; also, how do you guys like my newest fic, 'godly things?' i'm trying my hand at tackling a more softer mc, so i hope i make her empathetic/not too apathetic like makima from the kne one lololo.

[3ldergodz]

He's pretty

[audreyscribes]

Ω PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS Ω MAJOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST📜

DISCLAIMER: These headcanons were written before the airing of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians TV show, and are primarily based on the books.

[PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

[Ω PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS MASTERLIST Ω WORKS MASTERLIST]

🍇DIONYSUS🎭 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

👟HERMES 🐍 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

⚒ HEPHAESTUS🔥 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

🕊APHRODITE💖 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

⚔ARES🐗 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

🌕ARTEMIS🏹 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

☀APOLLO🎶 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

🦉ATHENA🧠 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

🌾DEMETER🌽 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

⚡ZEUS⚡ [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

💀HADES💎 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

🌊POSEIDON🔱 [TUMBLR] [AO3] [WATTPAD]

🔥 HESTIA 🏠 [TUMBLR] [AO3]

👑HERA 💒 [TUMBLR] [AO3]

*1/12/2024: Will update the links as I upload the appropriate works. Those with the links will have red text.

*2/9/2024: All the Major Gods are now written for!

*2/27/2024: Hera is now included