#NOT gold eyes because he is not luke castellan.

[xx0yeet-everything0xx]

dark jason grace but he practically cannot die after being blessed by so many minor gods and is about to dethrone is father. also red eyes. do you see my vision

[woodlandwrites]

i. mind over matter

aphrodite!reader x luke castellan

pre-tlt, characters 18+, mdni, def going to be a pt.2

warnings: cursing, whole lotta impertinence!

2.7k read - unedited

You have been plagued by flocks of doves and Luke Castellan. So Aphrodite decides to meddle a little a lot in your love life. Who needs memories anyway? Unfortunately, the only person you find comfort in - is the very person you hate.

A/N: first fic in a loooong time - stick with me here. there will be more parts and maybeee some spice? anyways hope you enjoy!

You’d like to think that Aphrodite loved the game of making you miserable. In retrospect, you hated your mother. She was a hard act to follow. 

Don’t jump to conclusions - you loved your cabin. Your brothers and sisters were wonderful - not vain like most campers would say. No, that was not an issue. The problem started with one slender, curly haired, crooked smile boy - Luke Castellan. He was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood and the bane of your existence. 

Luke was an astonishingly aggravating self-centered egotistical bigot. 

“Why do you hate him so much,” Silena asked one day out of the blue. You both sat in the stands watching Luke teach his swordsmanship class. You pondered her question for a while.

“Because. He confuses me - and aggravates me constantly. I have never met anyone so full of themselves in my entire life. He is Narcissus reborn again. It also does not help that he is a complete jerk,” you nodded as you ate another fresh strawberry. Silena pondered on your words.

“Are you sure this has nothing to do with mom and the whole..argument,” she said in a cautionary tone.

Silena was the only one who knew about you and Aphrodite’s - complicated past. To be fair - she didn’t know the entire truth. The prophecy, the impertinence, all the bullshit. However, she did know that your shoulders seemed to tense every time Aphrodite’s name was mentioned. 

“I mean every time I have talked to him at camp counselor meetings he seems like an alright guy.

Silena - forever the optimist. Sometimes when you looked at her through the corner of your eye she resembled your mother. She had this soft tone and locks of hair that seemed to always catch the wind just right. Yeah, no wonder Luke was nice to her. Selina was extremely beautiful - Beckendorf struck gold. 

“Yeah, I can see right through the façade-” you were cut off by a dove landing next to you. He started pecking at your strawberries mindlessly. Silena stifled a small giggle. 

“It is funny when it isn’t happening to you. The bastards have been following me around for days,” you said annoyed.

You tried scaring the bird away - only for more to return. After a couple minutes an estimated 20 doves flocked around you mimicking every move. 

“Go away!” you screamed - only for the feathered friends to cock their heads in curiosity. By now, the entire arena seemed to convert their attention to you. 

“Hey! I heard if they shit on your head it’ll bring good luck,” Luke echoed watching amused.

He leaned against his sword in a cocky manner. What an asshole - you hated when he did that. The other campers seemed to laugh along. 

“Up yours, Castellan,” you yelled with a face the color of cherries. 

The doves had now increased their army to a solid 50 - all looking to you for a further instruction. Doves had followed you around your entire life - a gift your mother had bestowed to you. The unfortunate part was that they were pretty much the most non obedient monsters on the entire planet. You never had truly understood why they would appear - most of the time it was a random occurrence. Of course - Luke was always there to revel in your misfortune. You still had not forgotten when the doves caused a complete riot last month at dinner - leaving quite a mess for you to clean up. The younger campers were still traumatized. 

That was the thing about doves - they were just like your mother. At first they are nice to look at, almost sweet. That is until they turn into vicious assailants from Tartarus (Silena says you overreact). They also annoy you - another common attribute with your mother. 

“For Gods sake just leave!,” you yelled again, stomping off, bidding Silena goodbye.

You did not want to continue being entertainment for the rest of the campers. The doves seemed to take the hint - maintaining their place in the stands. You were sure there were some week old snacks stuffed between the seats the rotted things could ravish on. Luke chuckled before turning his attention back to his students. 

The sun was setting and soon it would be dinner - but you still sat in bed thinking about what Silena had mentioned early about your mom. Maybe it was your nerves - but you knew a visit soon would be unavoidable. The doves only confirmed your suspicion. It was rare for gods to visit Camp Half-Blood, at least publically. The closest thing the camp had to godliness was Mr. D - what a joke. However, you knew your mother and her constant desire to meddle with your life. 

Dinner went without a hunch - except for the Stoll twins starting a food fight at the Hermes table. You loved quiet nights like these where the summer breeze feels like a warm hug. Silena nudged you - reading her expression you knew she was inquiring about the events from earlier. A shrug sufficed. You were so caught up in laughing with your siblings you failed to notice the yelling from the other side of the pavilion. 

“One of the Ares girls was flirting with Luke after you left today - Charlie and I could not help but laugh. It was so awkward,” Silena mentioned.

 There were a couple of murmured sounds and gawking from your siblings - which was the usual. If there was one thing they loved it was - well - love. However this subject rubbed you the wrong way - maybe it was just Luke’s name being mentioned.

It felt like a suffocating gut punch and it was most likely your mothers doing. If there was anything she loved more it was demigod love - the trials and tribulations - and of course the unfortunate ends. It quite literally made you sick. But why did Luke have to be roped in it and moreover - why did you care? You smiled and nodded - trying to pay attention and not let the thoughts take over. 

“Get these goddamn things off of me!,” a familiar voice yelled in annoyance.

So wrapped up in thought - you failed to care - assuming it was a practical Hephaestus joke with an Ares kid. Selina quickly nudged you pointing towards the Hermes table - for quite an interesting scene. Luke being attacked by a merciless army of doves. 

“Hey Castellan, let them shit on your head - heard it was good luck!,” the words reflected from just a few hours prior.

You couldn’t help but giggle - it was nice not being the receiver of dove aggravated assault (as Beckendorf had termed it). It was also nice not to be the joke for once - everyone laughing at someone else for a change was different. 

“Call the damn things off,” he struggled - yelling your name in the process.

“Why do you automatically assume I am the one who set them off? They just do what they want!” you retorted.

 Silena looked at you - questioning your motives. He struggled even more as the doves thrashed him around - seemling gaining confidence in their blows. They seemed - deadly - more than before. Silena muttered your name.

“You have to try,” Silena persuaded. Reluctantly you obeyed - knowing she was being more serious than she was putting on. 

“Stop!” you yelled sternly to the winged creatures.

Like usual - they did not obey. Unfortunately, they keep going - tearing Luke’s shirt in the process. He held himself quite well against dove assassins  - a fact you did not want to admit to yourself. 

“παύω!” You spoke - pleading that it would end.

It was all your mothers fault. She wanted you to be miserable. She wanted to ruin your night, humiliate you - and to hurt Luke. You weren’t sure why that last part bothered you so much.

 “Φεύγω!” you screamed once more in an earthshaking tone.

The doves dissipated automatically. Like literally - poof - into dust. Again - the entire camp had its eyes on you - what else was new?

“What is wrong with you,” Luke questioned - still astonished at the sheer power of your voice - that very voice that made doves disintegrate. You slowly looked up at his disheveled appearance - he looked worse.

Beautiful. 

You wish that voice in your head would go suck a dick!

“Shows over, enjoy your dessert,” you said bitterly to the crowd taking a bow.

Silena yelled your name but you had already darted towards the woods. You could hear the muttering of the crowd questioning the evening entertainment. You could not seem to care. 

You took a seat in the sand on the beach overlooking the shore. The moonlight seemed to make the water sparkle like diamonds. You felt almost calm here - no one to distract you from your thoughts. Why did his words strike you like a knife? He might as well plant backbiter into your back, it would hurt less. It all led to the proper question - why? Why would the doves attack him anyway? They had never done anything quite so ruthless before - nevertheless to another sole person. 

Then again - it was always about Luke - ever since you got to the infernal camp. He was probably celebrated for his brave victory in the battle of the doves - hoisted up by other campers. You suppose a feast in his honor was in order. 

“You think such unhappy thoughts,” an angelic voice sang from the sea. 

Your attention turned towards a bundle of sea foam. The foam began to sparkle and mangle to take the shape of a woman the closer it got to shore. Soon after your mother - Aphrodite stood before you - in all her glory.

“I thought seafoam was just whale jizz,” you spoke casually. You chucked at yourself that was a good one!

Of - fucking - course. Your mother was behind the entire dove fiasco - you called it. You should start placing bets at this point. 

“Most would be labeled impertinent with that attitude - especially with a God.” 

“I am impertinent.” You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. Maybe if you really ignored her she would disappear. 

“I will not disappear yet - we have much to discuss.” 

“Get out of my head.” 

“I heard what occurred tonight at dinner. Shame, doves are very gentle creatures.”

A dove magically appeared in her hands, letting out a soft coo. You cringed. If you saw another dove tonight - you might just roast it and eat it. 

“So that was you?” You asked venomously.

“Well thanks mom! Now the entire camp thinks I tried to kill the golden boy with a league of killer doves. They all think I am absolutely crazy.”

“I did nothing, my child.” You gawked at her - she paused to collect her thoughts.

“However, you might want to look within yourself before you spit accusations that are not true. I merely gave you a gift - how you use it is at your own expense.” She finished. 

“But I don’t control those horrid things - they just show up and do whatever. Why would I even attack Luke with a bunch of wimpy doves?”

That was your mother, having the audacity to say you caused the incident. That it was all your fault. 

“Love, perhaps?” Her eyes seemed to glitter at the thought. 

“No.” Ugh, not this again, you thought.

“Doves are a mere - personification of one’s inner love. That is why I gave you the gift - so your innermost feelings can never be bottled. That does horrid things to one’s complexion.” 

“Well thanks for the shitty gift, mother. Next time maybe a pair of socks will do the trick.” 

“Why do you insist on denying who you are? Denying what you are destined to become? Denying yourself the love of the century?”

“Why love someone if they eventually will die.” It was true. Your father had died when you were young - leaving you an orphan. Your demigod friends you made throughout the years died horrible unspeakable deaths.

“Isn’t that all the more fun?” 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? You just love to see me suffer?”

“You’re being rash.” She fired back.

“Rash? Where have you been?” You scoffed at your godly mother.

“Child, I do not write destiny - I only enforce it. I know you more than you would like to admit, sweet dove. And you - are in love with the child of Hermes.”

 Apollo could’ve shot you through the chest - it would have felt better. 

“Mother, you have it mixed up - I do not have any feelings for Luke. You’re just making things up because you are bored and need some excitement. Please go back to Olympus and meddle with someone else’s life,” you stated. You staggered to your feet dusting the sand off. 

Before you could walk away a bolt of pure energy hit you in your spine. You flew to your feet hitting the ground with a hard thud. In a blur your mother was standing proud above your feet - surrounded in a pink aura. 

“Luke Castellan, he will keep you safe - and you will keep him steady.” 

You might have thought to curse at her - but you couldn’t speak - let alone move. She had disappeared from vision leaving only a dove in her wake. The pain - was excruciating - like being electrocuted a million times. Your ears rang terrible tunes as you tried to level yourself - only to fall back down. The world was spinning at an unmeasurable pace. You could hear shrill screaming - or was it yours? You weren’t even sure who you were? Only images of dark curls, broad shoulders, and crooked smiles flashed through your vision. 

A quake of footsteps running towards the shore were felt as you thrashed in the sand. Voices - yelling a name - whose name? You couldn’t recall. All you knew was darkness. 

“Y/N?!” a feminine voice called. You could feel her hands shake your shoulder violently - it felt like knives.

You heard screams - this time knowing it was your shrill cry. You pushed her away with force. You backed away, crawling backwards in desperation. 

Once your vision returned you focused to see a swarm of kids all in orange shirts - staring at you in shock. The girl who touched you - you could only assume was kneeling in the sand in front of you. She seemed to be pleading.

“Stay away, please,” you pleaded with tears streaming from your eyes. You weren’t sure what had happened but you knew you had never felt pain so deeply. 

“Y/N, please you were screaming. We only want to make sure you are okay. We can go to the infirmary and figure it out,” the girl reached out only for you to retreat more. You hyperventilate on your own words. 

“What’s going on?” another voice asked with urgency from beyond the crowd.

Every child seemed to turn their attention to focus on the male figure. Pushing his way through the crowd - he became shocked at the scene before him.

However, you felt as if all the oxygen had left your body - leaving you limp. You felt as if a hand had grabbed your heart and ripped it in two. He was the one - the one you had seen in your visions. 

“Y/N?” he questioned - half concerned, half annoyed. His chocolate eyes seemed to lock ever so easily with yours. He was indeed the most beautiful man you had ever seen - like a carving of marble. Your soul ached. Without a thought - on instinct alone - you ran. He was engulfed in a desperate hug - his shoulder muffled your pitiful cries. 

“Please, you’re the only one who can help.” You could feel the eyes on the two of you - the gasps were hard to ignore. He went stiff in his posture - not sure how to react. Silence fell over the entire shore, only the crashing of waves in the background. 

“Y/N what is going on? Is this some sort of prank?” he asked in disbelief. 

He had never seen you like this - so scared. Some small part of him wanted to scoop you up, hold you tight, and tell you everything would be okay. He wanted to tell you how he would fix all your problems - just so he would never see you cry again. Although these feelings were so suppressed he restrained.

Gods you were beautiful. 

“I- I don’t know who Y/N is. I don’t know anyone. I don’t know me.” 

[neo-nomatrix]

Gold chain beneath your shirt, the shirt that you let me wear home

Luke Castellan x reader

word count: little over 1k

summary: no matter how hard you try to forget, there are signs of luke everywhere

a/n: smutty, angsty

He betrayed you, it wasn’t a dream or a stupid vision. He really betrayed you.

When Luke first brought up getting revenge on the gods you thought he was joking. He hadn’t mentioned “kronos’ army” , afraid that would be too much to jump onto you. You realize it far too late, that he was very much serious about his plan.

“You can join me. It’ll be just us again, remember? I can’t protect you,” He says, looking at you lovingly.

Luke had found you before departing camp, for good. He gave you a last chance to join him and the army. All while telling you what he had done to Percy.

“You tried to poison percy!” You yelled at him in the heat of the moment.

“I did what I had to do!” He screamed at you.

You backed up into the corner of your cabin, everyone else from your cabin gone. The few year rounders somewhere else.

“I’m not joining you Luke! That would be betraying everyone I love!” You yell back.

“What about me?! Huh?! You have hated the gods ever since I met you, what happened?” He questions.

“I may hate them, but I could never do this. I’m not a monster,” You quietly say, shaking your head.

“Fine. Make the wrong choice. But I won't be able to save you when the time comes,” He tells you cryptically.

You watch him walk away from you. You debate turning him in, but how? He’s stronger than you, faster, you know you can’t. All you can do is watch him walk away, possibly destroying both your futures. As he opens the door he looks back at you one last time.

——————

You’ve been rather alone at camp since summer ended. Percy and Annabeth return home while Grover goes off on his adventure for Pan. The only friends you have there are small acquaintances and your siblings. You decided you’re not quite ready to return home. You’ve had run-ins with monsters previously outside of camp and you aren’t prepared to deal with them again. Partially because your mind is flooded with Luke.

With the extra amounts of free time you find yourself rearranging your cabin and area. Sorting through your clothes over and over again. This time you find something you hadn’t previously, a thick plaid blue flannel. lukes. You pick it up and hold it in front of you. Memories flood in your head of Luke.

It’s mid June, you and luke’s favorite time for a swim in the lake. You find a lake hidden behind a forest of trees that’s quiet, perfect for you two. You were wandering in the forest together when you first found it. Hand in hand. The glimmering sun makes the water sparkle.

You start taking off your shirt and jean shorts while smiling widely.

“C’mon!” You laugh at Luke.

“You’re crazy,” he laughs at you, taking off his flannel and cargos.

He holds your hand as he pulls you into the crystal clear water. You both smile as the warm water touches your skin. Luke holds strongly onto your waist with one hand. The other acts like a paddle to push you into the middle of the lake. Your hands wrap about his neck, playing with his gold chain which has a feather charm hanging off of it.

He kisses your neck softly, roaming his calloused hands around your waist. You comb your fingers through his brown curls. Your thumb grazed over his scar below his right eye. You press a kiss on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He drops his right hand underneath the water and pulls your underwear aside. His long fingers teasing you entrance.

“Don’t tease,” you whisper against his lips.

He smiles and plunges one finger into you, letting out a breath of air as you moan. He kisses the sweet spot on your neck. Your mouth hangs open and you grind onto his fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he mumbles.

“I’m a good girl right?” you moan softly.

“Are you? I don’t think so, baby,” he frowns, slowing his fingers down.

“W-what? no- no i’m a good girl, the best,” you say, eyes furrowing at his response.

“Hmm, maybe you should prove to me how good you are,” He whispers back, smirking.

“I’ll do anything,” you desperately say.

“Make yourself cum on my fingers,” he orders you, moving your hips against his bulge.

You grind your hips against his fingers. “You’re like a fucking dog in heat,” he laughs at you.

“I’m gonna- Luke i’m gonna,” you whine.

“Let go baby, be a good girl,” He smiles.

You cum harshly on his fingers, he slowly pumps in and out riding you out. He continues pressing kisses against you, his over hand roaming your body.

“Good girl, my good girl.”

You both get out of the water tired. Allowing the sun to soak into you, drying you off. You put your shorts back on before realizing your shirt has gotten mud on it.

“Luke! My shirt!” you cry out to him.

“Here, take this,” He laughs at you, throwing his flannel at you.

You smile back at him, putting the flannel over your shoulders. You go up to him and wrap your arms around his tall figure.

“Wish we could stay here forever,” You mumble.

“I think we can work something out.”

——————

You stare at the shirt, smiling. You wonder what it would be like if he never left, if it could be just you forever. You hug the shirt longingly, going to your bunk and wrapping yourself in the flannel. You feel a hard metal in the pocket, his chain. You hold it in your palm; small tears pooling in your eyes.

“Fuck you Luke. Why’d you have to do this?” You look out the window, angry and sad.

You wish for a different ending. You wish he stayed. You wish you had gone with him, maybe it would’ve just been you two. You wish you had stayed in that moment forever. You wish it wasn’t true. You wish he hadn’t left.

You love Luke Castellan, even though you wish you dont. You hate yourself for falling for it. You hate him for making you fall for him.

[ma1dita]

have you been watching the paris 2024 olympics?? i just think luke castellan is so like athlete coded, i’m just imagining him like as the athlete from sweden (?) in pole vault who broke his world record and then ran to his girlfriend like imagine luke doing that to you AGHHHH i’m on a luke as an olympian (the athlete) brain rot

the alchemy

luke castellan x reader a/n: i absolutely loved this request. mando duplantis i dream of you and your girlfriend every night. wc: 612

Luke Castellan swears he can feel his heart beating out of his ribcage. That, or it’s the thunderous roar of the crowd—it must be one or the other with so many people here, a sea of faces and noise and….

Deep breath in… and out.

Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many people in a single room, and his brain hurts to even consider the people watching this live. Gods, there weren’t even this many people at qualifying, and there’s so many people counting on him. Honey brown eyes scan the crowd for you, his good luck charm as he squints, getting on his tiptoes in hopes of catching a glimpse of your smile. Your presence does wonders for his performance and his nerves, the past few years of late nights at the facility, strength and endurance training, and the crazy diets you’ve joined him on to accommodate bulking and cutting. 

You’ve been there through it all.

He’s got two more shots at breaking his own world record, and to most, they’d assume he’d treat it like a piece of cake. But his mother always taught him to be humble, and he reckons she’s whispering something similar into your ear right now, wherever you two are in the stands. You’re his biggest cheerleader after all, on the days he feels like he can walk among the clouds and even the ones where his feet seem stuck to the concrete.

Luke rolls out the crick in his neck before bending over to grab his grip tape and liquid chalk. Going through the motions of years of proficiency worth his blood, sweat, and tears, he zeroes in on the crowd, walking up to the runway.

Just like we practiced, he thinks to himself, hearing his name get called out by the officials.

LUKE CASTELLAN, REPRESENTING THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!

LUKE CASTELLAN, DES ÉTATS-UNIS D'AMÉRIQUE!

Two minutes start on the clock—-and he runs like the wind.

Sprinting, taking the air out of his own lungs as his feet pound against the pavement, his fingers tapping against your initials that he etched into his pole as he gives it his all.

And then the other end meets the vault box and he’s flying.

Soaring through the air, momentum swinging his legs like a pendulum and by the smile that grows on his face—he knows he’s got it even before his feet touch the ground, and the only thing running through his mind is you as he contorts over the bar effortlessly.

Like echolocation, the only voice he recognizes through the commotion is in tune with the blood rushing through his ears, a scream that could only come from the depths of your soul, “BRING IT HOME BABY!”

And he’s ecstatic now, suddenly unaware of the resounding smack his body makes against the landing mat because his joints spring up tirelessly as he propels himself in your direction like Pavlov’s dog running towards the sound of a golden bell. Luke can barely see at the speed he’s going at, launching himself over the stands but he knows you’re there to catch him and he knows he’s gotten gold as he smashes his lips against yours. This must be the alchemy that you do to him, pulling his heart into yours with just the glimmer in your eyes and the sheer love you show to accomplish his dreams—he’s a winner for sure, with you by his side. Flashes from cameras surround his peripherals and you both can’t do anything but chuckle.

Gold medal aside, he’s got all he needs in his arms right now. 

Luke thinks he’ll be getting you your own gold hardware soon too.

[surftrips]

BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

HEARTBREAKER — CHAPTER 02

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n is challenged by campers and her growing feelings for luke castellan.

author's note thank you for all the support on this series! i made a masterlist here so you can easily find the parts <3 as always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist and lmk your thoughts :)

→ installment of this au read for context

Luke Castellan found it increasingly harder and harder to hide his feelings for you. He could no longer make eye contact with you without his face turning an embarrassing shade of red. In fact, he could hardly look at your face because somehow his eyes would always end up darting toward your lips, or even lower if you were wearing a certain tank top that day. 

“My eyes are up here, Castellan,” you quipped at him once. 

Quite frankly, it was ruining his own reputation around camp as the best swordsman and a stoic warrior. If word got out that he fell to his knees at the hands of an Ares girl, what would people think of him? 

As stories of your excellent skills got around, so did rumors about you. Everyone was interested to hear whose heart you had broken next, all because of that first fateful incident with a camper named Connor. 

Connor, son of Apollo, thought that he could challenge you to an archery competition. He had bet that if he won, he could take you out on a date. How could you resist the urge to prove him wrong?

A small crowd had gathered to watch the two of you. Some people rooted for Connor, trusting that his combat skills would be stronger because of his father. However, the innate strength and talent from your own godly father allowed you to become familiar with the bow and arrow rather quickly. 

“Careful, or one of your siblings will have to heal you later,” you warned. 

“Oh, I think you’re the one that’s going to end up at my cabin later,” Connor responded snarkily. 

You hated losing. It wasn’t an option for you. You didn’t care that Connor technically had the upper hand here, you were going to beat him regardless. 

The rules were simple: there were four targets. Whoever hit the most points, won. 

Connor went first, hitting an impressive 34 points. 

“Beat that, pretty girl.”

You tried not to cringe at his nickname for you, and confidently walked up to the front. You quickly scanned the crowd, eyes landing on the brunette-haired boy you didn't realize you were looking for. Luke smiled at you, and suddenly everyone else faded away.

Turning back toward the targets, you lined up your bow and arrow and took the first shot. You hit eight points, which was not bad, but you were going to have to do better in order to win.

Trying to hone in on your training, you closed your eyes for the next shot and trusted your instincts. You heard the arrow hitting wood and before you could open your eyes, cheers had erupted from the crowd. Bullseye. 

With 17 points left to beat Connor, you had to hit at least another bullseye. And you did just that. 

Turning to Connor, you said, “Any last words before I take this final shot?” 

“What time am I picking you up tonight?” he said, not losing hope just yet. You had to give it to him and his tireless persistence. 

Your eyes focused in on the last target, until all you could see was the gold center. It kind of looked like the sun, and reminded you of a certain someone. You released the arrow, but at the last second felt your finger flinch.

Shit, you thought. But the crowd had already begun cheering again, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You had hit eight on the last one, just enough to win. 

“Okay, who’s next?” you declared triumphantly, not missing the disappointed look on Connor's face.

After the competition, Luke walked over to congratulate you on your win. 

“Hey, that was sick!” He placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, thanks!”

“You’re not beating yourself up over that last one, are you?”

“Wh- how’d you know?” You were silently cursing yourself for not making that last bullseye and blowing Connor completely out of the water. 

“I know you, Y/N. Don’t look so surprised.” 

“Okay, well, what am I thinking right now?”

“Hmmm,” he pretended to be lost in thought. “Dinner?”

“You know me so well.” 

Ever since then, various people at camp had challenged you to their own duels in an effort to ask you out, just for you to beat them time and time again.

You weren’t sure why anyone thought you would be interested in them, when you had not once expressed a want for any sort of romantic entanglements. Because that’s all they were to you, entanglements. Complicated messes that were hard to get out of.

“Okay, I need boy advice,” Annabeth announced.

“No,” you responded. This was the first of many sleepovers you, her, and Clarisse would have together. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“That’s my advice, do yourself a favor and just don’t.” 

“Okay, what’s the story?” the young girl asked. 

“I dated this guy once. Long story short, all men do is disappoint you. It’s not worth it.” 

“I second that,” Clarisse joined in. 

“Wait- who do you like?” you asked, processing Annabeth’s original question.

“Oh, forget it. I’m not gonna tell you guys now,” she responded.

“No, you have to tell us!” Clarisse insisted. 

When Annabeth didn’t respond, you and Clarisse began throwing pillows at her. 

“Stop! Stop!” she giggled. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you guys.” 

You and Clarisse waited with baited breath as Annabeth formed his name in her mouth. “Percy.”

Chaos ensued. You’re pretty sure that you squealed loud enough to break glass and Clarisse nearly woke up the cabin on the other side of camp. Luckily for you guys, it was a weekend that many of the campers had gone home for. 

“Why are you guys cheering?” Annabeth asked, confused.

“Because we’re happy for you! Your first crush is so exciting!” Clarisse said.

Annabeth had always been like a younger sister to you and Clarisse, and you couldn’t help but be happy for her, despite your personal feelings about love. 

“Y/N, what do you think?” Annabeth turned to you. 

“I think you don’t even need our advice. Just be yourself, I’m sure he already thinks you’re amazing.” 

The young girl beamed at you. “I thought you were anti-boys.”

“I am, if it were up to me, there would be no boys here.” 

“Not even Luke?” Annabeth asked, feigning innocence.

“Well, is he a boy?” you responded.

“Yeah, but not just any boy….” Clarisse joined in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up on your elbows in bed. 

“Y/N, just admit it! He’s different!” Annabeth said.

“No, he’s still just a boy,” you said, trying to convince them, or yourself. 

Annabeth and Clarisse looked at each other knowingly, but dropped the subject before upsetting you further. 

The truth was, the thought of Luke Castellan terrified you. 

At first, you didn’t want to admit it. There was no way Luke Castellan liked you, and there was absolutely no way that you liked him back. Not in any universe, above or on earth. Not after you had made it your whole mission to swear off boys completely. 

Sure, you constantly picked each other as partners in Capture the Flag, sat next to each other over bonfires, and talked to each other everyday, but nothing friends didn’t do. 

You tried to be oblivious to his longing glances at you, the way his face lit up when he saw you, but Annabeth and Clarisse were not shy in pointing out each time he smiled at you like you hung the moon and stars. 

For years, Luke had repressed his emotions for fear of being perceived as weak. But each time you came around, he wondered if love could even be equated to weakness if he had never felt anything stronger. 

Liked by lukecastellan and 170 others.

tagged annaaabeth and clarisse

ynuser with the girls 🏹💕

view all comments.

annaaabeth love youuu

clarisse so much fun!

lukecastellan ur foul for that last pic

ynuser whose side are you on

percyjackson second pic is me to you when i don't get invited to the sleepover :(

—

TAGLIST: @ravisinghs-wife @jules-loves-lukecastellan @favreader23 @clydeisalsoellie @yuminako @luxreziaa @eddiesdrummergf @whataprettyshadeofred @grace-928 @girls-and-guts @supercutszns @noodlesketchbook @birdiewriteslit @mitskiswift99 @idontevencare1223 @randomnpc456 @lucycarlisleswife @angelicdanvers @imguce @anitatvd (please lmk if you want to be added or i missed you!)

[peachtarto]

Now or Never

Pairing : Luke Castellan x reader

Word Count :

Summary : Luke missed his chance to ask you an important question, and is painfully unaware of it.

Warnings: mostly fluff! nothing crazy- Luke is dumb, Clarisse is an overprotective bestie, talk of self-doubt etc.

Masterlist here!

A/N : thinking of making this a little series of moments in your relationship- let me know if that’s something you guys would like!

‘Don’t you think it’s a little much?’ You questioned, eyeing your own reflection with what some might call a generous amount of scrutiny.

Silena gave no indication that she’d heard and continued talking, ‘there’ll be such good food, and wine of course, lots and lot of wine..’

The pins in your hair were already beginning to ache, and you tried not to wince as she added yet another one to the elegant braid she was painstakingly creating.

‘- imagine if we made this much fuss for our birthdays,’ she continued, ‘like, I get that he’s the god of festivity but I’ve got to question why he wants to party with a load of hormonal teenagers. Not that I’m complaining, we could all use a good party.’

Silena was already dressed: a deep purple gown of silk accented with golden cuffs, and little combs fashioned like gilded laurel leaves swept her hair away from her face. She looked beautiful, and there was not a doubt in your mind that she was the daughter of Aphrodite.

She’d picked out your dress which had been a relief, a soft chiffon that seemed to float when you moved. It was simple but elegant, she’d insisted- perfect for a daughter of Athena. She’d also said that the hair should match, but it’d been half an hour since she’d started and it was starting to feel everything but simple.

‘And can you believe we’re allowed to switch tables tonight? I can’t wait! Charles said we’d sit together obviously and I’m sure the Hermes boys will join as and..’

Her smile faltered when she saw the look on your face and she quickly halted her movements, ‘oh, don’t you like it?’

‘No no, it’s beautiful!’ You stammered quickly; she’d curled and brainded your hair back in a thick, loose plait with little gold pins shimmering throughout. Even in cabin 10, her skills were unrivalled. ‘I just- do you think it’s too much?’ You questioned again.

‘Too much?’ She scoffed, and then her full lips parted in a dazzling smile, ‘of course it’s too much, that’s the point! We want every boy in this camp on their knees! Figuratively of course.’

You tried to hide the smile that tugged on your lips, ‘You’ve already got Charles drooling after you non-stop, leave some for the rest of us.’

‘Some?’ She said and grinned rather fiendishly, ‘or do you want me to leave just a certain son of Hermes for you?’

You rolled your eyes and gave her a smooth, and rather horrible gesture as she went back to toying with your hair, giggling to herself.

Silena had been the one to introduce you to Luke two years prior. She’d gracefully swept you into her circle the moment you’d arrived in camp, convinced you would be claimed by her mother too. Had Luke not intervened and taken you to cabin 11 she probably would’ve had you sleeping top to toe in her bunk; she’d reluctantly handed you over, but not before she’d seen the look that had passed between the two of you. Love at first sight she’d insisted, and maybe she’d been mistaken on his end, but she hadn’t on yours.

‘You know, he really does like you. I can tell, and you should believe me because it’s literally my thing.’ She sighed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She pulled and prodded at a few loose hairs until she seemed satisfied, then dragged you over to the long mirror at the back of the cabin.

You didn’t know how she’d managed it, but for once you didn’t cringe at the reflection you saw and a part of you couldn’t quite believe what stared back. There was no denying she was a master at her craft.

‘You look so beautiful!’ Silena squealed, her hands clasped together in pride. Then, without warning she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug that had the air leaving your lungs. ‘Tonight’s the night, for both of us, I can feel it!’

You hoped she was right as you followed her out of the cabin, towards the glittering lights in the pavilion.

Luke stood with Charles and Chris at the edge of the party, sipping slowly on the glass of wine in his hand. He supposed Mr D had been granted a night of reprieve.

‘Seriously man, chill out,’ he whispered over Beckendorf’s shoulder, ‘she’ll be here. Keep frowning like that and you’ll pop a blood vessel.’

He could sense Charles shifting in his feet nervously and his mouth twitched slightly, he knew the feeling all too well. He’d been on edge all day too. Chris was smirking too, but his was all smugness; he’d asked Clarisse outright to attend the party with him and much to everyone’s surprise, she’d said yes immediately, which was lucky for him because the alternative would almost certainly have been the loss of a limb.

‘How can it possibly take this long to get ready?’ Charles said, turning to face Luke. It was odd to see the son of Hephaestus so flustered when he was normally immune to the whims of teenage hormones; apparently he was not at all immune to the power Silena Beauregard seemed to hold over him. ‘Maybe she’s not coming man, we should just go before- oh..’ he trailed off. His eyes went starry and Luke whipped his head around to see what had entranced his friend.

There was Silena in her finery, tossing her hair over a shoulder as she swept into the pavilion. She threw a dangerously beautiful grin at Charles who was beginning to look a little like he might faint.

‘Hi Charles,’ she offered as she sauntered over. Anyone else might’ve missed the shake in her voice, but Luke caught the slightly nervous wobble of her tone and smiled. Good for Beckendorf.

‘You look great Silena,’ he managed to cough out. He quickly eyed Luke who gave an tiny nod of approval as if to say ‘keep going buddy!’

‘I know,’ she sighed dreamily, giving a little twirl of her dress before looping her arm through Charles’ who was now definitely holding his breath. Silena giggled and patted his chest sweetly before throwing a mischievous glare at Luke, ‘Just wait till you see her, I think you’ll get a little breathless too Castellan. Now come on Charlie, let’s get a drink.’

Luke watched her lead his friend away to where Chris stood with an arm slung around Clarisse’s waist; she’d opted for a gown of stormy grey adorned with tiny silver chains, as close to armour as she could get he guessed. She looked slightly terrifying, until Chris whispered something in her ear that had a blushing like crazy and stepping even closer into his side.

‘They make a great couple, don’t you think?’

Luke spun around quickly at the sound of your voice and cursed silently, Silena had been right. All the air left his lungs in a great breath and he was instantly lightheaded at the sight of you.

Devastating was the only word that came to his mind. Truly devastating. You could’ve walked into Olympus then and there and they probably would’ve pronounced you a goddess in an instant. He was struck dumb, and silent. He wanted to say something about how beautiful you looked, or how he’d been wrapped around your delicate finger the day you’d walked into camp; instead his frantic brain settled on, ‘nice dress, did you borrow it from Silena?’

You flinched. ‘No. We were sent a trunk to pick from from her mother.’

‘Oh.’ Was all he could reply as his gaze raked over you again. ‘That’s awfully nice of her.’

‘Very.’ You said through gritted teeth, trying to stop the scarlet blush you could feel rising to your cheeks. What was his problem? It wasn’t unusual for Luke to be blunt, he always struggled to keep his opinions to himself and it had gotten you both in hot water a hundred times before; but it was unusual for him to be blunt with you.

He’d been distant all week, he’d managed to miss three sparring sessions with you and counsellor duties on several occasions. The first few times Chris had been polite enough to make excuses for him, but when the two of you walked into the arena one morning to find Luke and Travis swinging swords at eachother, he’d stayed silent. He didn’t have to tell you what was already painfully obvious. Luke wasn’t ill, and hadn’t ’slept in late’, he’d just been avoiding spending any amount of time with you. You hadn’t had any idea why; and now, standing in the pavilion with the air thinning in between you both, you were even more confused.

He ran his eyes over your dress yet another time and something seemed to snap in your chest. ‘If you’re going to keep judging my outfit,’ you managed to spit out, ‘do it at the dinner table, I’m starving and don’t have the energy to defend myself. Let’s go sit with the others.’

You span away from him so quickly you missed him opening and closing his mouth as he tried to explain himself. As you stalked towards the table your friends had gathered around you must’ve been wearing a murderous expression, because Silena quirked her eyebrow at him with a face that said ‘what did you say?’ He responded with a small shrug before slipping into the seat opposite you.

Luke tried, and failed, to catch your eye throughout dinner. Food came and went, and glasses of a sweet amber wine refilled themselves as soon as the last drop hit the drinker’s lips. Silena had made her way through at least five glasses by his count, and was whispering something in Charles’ ear that had the man choking on his strawberry tart. You’d barely touched yours, and had politely declined his offer to get you something else to drink. You’d barely touched your dinner either, pushing things around your plate with your fork until Connor had unceremoniously dumped the contents of it onto his own. He felt he should apologise for his brother’s behaviour, but when he’d tried, you’d turned to watch the campers dancing by the fire.

The soft light from the flames flickered over the planes of your face and he knew he shouldn’t stare, but after starving himself of you for almost a week, he was finding it hard to look away. If he was honest with himself, it had been almost impossible to endure. You’d spent almost every day together for two years; a week apart had him feeling like he was missing a limb.

But a week apart was better than a week of watching male campers saunter up to you in a flurry of proposals. He’d managed to stick around long enough to see two Ares boys crash and burn and that was more than enough. If the failures were that bad, seeing you agree to attend the party with someone would probably have finished him off. He wondered which insufferable git you’d given in to, which one you’d been stood up by.

Curious, he leaned forward and asked loud enough to get your attention- ‘where’s your date?’

You slid your eyes away from the dancers and faced Luke. He was toying with the stem of his glass. Your throat tightened, and your face warmed uncomfortably. ‘I don’t have one.’

‘What?’ He asked incredulously.

‘Loads of people came alone Luke.’ You said replied quietly, keenly aware of the sudden silence of the conversations between everyone else at the table. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

‘I know, I just thought you would’ve put someone out of their misery. Every guy at camp must’ve asked you.’

‘Almost every guy.’ Chris whispered into his drink, rolling his eyes.

‘A few asked, yes.’ You murmured.

‘And you came alone anyway?’

You could’ve sworn Chris was wincing now, and Clarisse had the good sense to find the lights strung above the tables incredibly interesting all of a sudden. Silena however, looked like she was about to explode. You didn’t even know where to begin, your cheeks weren’t warm anymore, they were burning.

‘Yes.’ You ground out, hoping he’d take the hint and keep his mouth shut for once.

Luke went to speak, but Charles cut in before he could begin. ‘We should go dance!’ He declared, slapping his knees over-enthusiastically and standing so quickly he nearly toppled over his chair. The others rose with murmurs of agreement, eager to get away from what was becoming an increasingly awkward conversation.

‘You guys go ahead,’ you said, rising from your chair ‘I’m going to get some fresh air.’

You hoped no one would mention that you were already outside, surrounded by fresh air, and thankfully no one did. Silena gave you an apologetic look but you shook it off. The lights suddenly seemed much too bright, and the table of your friends was starting to feel like an audience to your embarrassment. As they all walked towards the fire you began in the opposite direction, lifting your dress slightly to allow your feet to travel quickly towards the cabins.

Luke felt Silena’s hand meet the back of his head in a swift slap before he could reach out to stop it.

‘You are as dense as old bread Castellan!’ She hissed as he cradled his neck. The boys were looking at him disapprovingly, but Clarisse was just glaring at him like she was sizing him up for a fight.

‘Chris where’s my knife?’ She asked coldly, holding her hand out in her boyfriend’s direction.

‘Woah- what did I do?’ Luke exclaimed, which earned him a hard flick right in the centre of his forehead. Whoever said Aphrodite’s children weren’t vicious fighters was beginning to sound like a goddam liar, he thought.

‘Do you know how many guys she turned down for tonight?’ Silena continued, ‘almost every guy at camp! And do you know why Captain No Clue?’

Luke just stared blankly until she let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Because she was waiting for you to ask her! I was hoping you’d pull your finger out by the end of the week but you didn’t, and you let her come alone.’

He flinched. Silena’s face tightened and her dark eyes flicked to Charles. Something unsaid flashed between them before she turned her gaze back on Luke; her anger was gone, replaced with something strangely close to pity.

‘You wanted to ask her, didn’t you?’ She asked- carefully. Her eyes were beginning to crinkle like she was about to burst into tears. She dashed forward and forced him down into a tight hug. ‘Oh Luke, I’m so stupid!’

Clarisse rolled her eyes. ‘Daughter of the goddess of love and you didn’t see this one coming? Even Chris figured this one out!’ She chided, then added sweetly in his direction, ‘no offence babe.’

He thought of every moment he’d spent with you; the hours of sparring sessions under the heat of the summer sun, the picnics out in the strawberry fields, sneaking between your cabins in the middle of the night to swap stories of your lives before all of this. He’d known the risks of falling for you, and he’d done it anyway. He’d thought about telling you a hundred times. He had thought about telling you that he didn’t want or expect anything from you in return, that he just needed you to know how he felt because it was torture to suffer it in silence. Over the months he’d managed to convince himself that you didn’t feel anything close to what he felt for you, and had resigned himself to living in the wake of your existence.

Luke’s heart stumbled, taking all the confusion and doubt with it, he blurted, ‘I should go after her,’ and started after you, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Even at a fast-paced jog, he only managed to catch up with you when you were rushing up the stairs to your cabin, the skirts of your dress billowing out behind you.

‘Wait up!’ he shouted through heavy breaths.

You didn’t let him continue and just increased your pace, rushing to get to the door. If you could make it inside and shut him out, perhaps he wouldn’t see the tears that had begun fall. A small part of you ached to stop and turn to him, but you knew what was coming. Silena would have tried to intervene once you’d left, and he was probably coming after you to let you down gently. You weren’t sure you could survive that.

‘Gods will you slow down!’ Luke yelled, ‘I want to talk to you!’

‘Don’t bother,’ you said bluntly, ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

‘Oh yeah? What am I going to say?’

He’d taken the Athena cabin steps two at a time and was right behind you now. You could hear his ragged breathing, had he ran here? He must really want to get it over with, you thought bitterly. ‘Does it matter? Just go back to the party Luke, they’ll be missing you.’

‘It matters to me. I don’t want to be there if you’re not.’ He said softly and reached out to grab your hand. His fingers grazed your own, warm and steadfast- patiently waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t, you couldn’t bare it.

As you turned to face him fully you realised you were close enough to share breath. In other circumstances you might’ve stared up at him with longing; now all there seemed to be was the awful sinking feeling that you were about to lose him.

You opted to not meet his eyesight, and instead studied the scuffed wood of the cabin porch beneath your feet.

‘Then why didn’t you ask me to go with you?’ You managed to ask. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin like a brand. ‘I thought we were friends Luke, I thought that would be enough to get you to tolerate me for one evening so neither of us had to go alone.’

‘That’s not..’ he took a deep breath before he continued. Now or never, he thought, and opted for now.

‘I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want to go as your friend. I wanted to go as your date. I knew you’d say no, because every guy here was chalking up how to ask you themselves and I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand it. I’d prepared myself to see you with someone else tonight and it caught me off guard to see you alone. I had all these things I wanted to say to you, about how beautiful you looked, but I panicked and said some really stupid stuff back there. And i’m sorry, for all of it.’

It was your turn to take a deep breath, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his own. The air was too tight, humming between your bodies, between your joined hands.

‘Ask me now then.’ You dared.

He was silent for long enough that you dared to look up and meet his eyes. You were sure your expression was mirrored on his own: shock, longing, and then something like amusement.

He was smiling like a kid on Christmas at your offer, broad and unrestrained. ‘You want me to ask you to go to the party with me? Now? After I’ve just poured my heart out?’

‘If you don’t want to that fine.’ You teased, a small smile returning to your face. ‘What was it you said about every guy at camp?’

Luke let out a laugh and took a step closer, ‘I don’t care about the party. Go on a date with me. Tomorrow, today, hell let’s go now. I don’t care. Just go out with me. I’m not waiting another two years for this chance.’

‘Of course I’ll go out with you Castellan.’ You replied softly. You didn’t even have to think about your answer, you’d been preparing it for months.

‘Really?’

‘Yes really.’ You laughed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

With a sudden burst of confidence, Luke leaned down to brush his mouth against your blushing cheek. You thought you might burst then and there as he pulled you into his chest to whisper in your ear, ‘you look beautiful. You are beautiful. Always. Even covered in sweat during sparring practice, or windswept from the chariot races. I can never look away from you.’

He was blushing too when he pulled away, leaving you staring up at him, breathless again. His smile was nervous as he said, ‘I want to do this properly, I’ll plan something great I promise. But for now, I would be honoured if you’d come back to the party with me, as my date.’

You quirked an eyebrow. ‘Will you dance with me?’

‘Of course I’ll dance with you,’ Luke said, wrapping an arm around your waist, ‘I plan to show you off in fact. I’m pretty sure I’ve just achieved the impossible as far as the guys here are aware. I reserve bragging rights.’

[zelcii]

do u right for luke castellan? if u do can u write some fluff for himmm? thank u, love ur writing

why | luke castellan

“if you want to stay as the counsellor of your cabin, you’re going to have to work harder,” mr. d said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“i’m sorry,” you deadpanned, frustration creeping into your voice. “what?”

chiron rolled his eyes at dionysus. “it’s nothing personal,” he replied dismissively. “we appreciate your efforts—”

“we just know that you can do better,” mr. d interrupted.

luke stood just outside the door, waiting for you, when he overheard the conversation. he didn’t think much of it, except for how wrong both chiron and mr. d were.

what surprised him the most was the meek, tired “yes, sir,” that slipped from your lips on the other side of the door.

as your boyfriend, luke has had the opportunity to watch you up close as you hustle through camp, over-organising activities, making sure every camper is accounted for. you’re always on the move, practically running the place, and sometimes he wonders if you ever take a minute to breathe. your dedication is impressive, no doubt, but it hurts him to see you wear yourself down with every unnecessary list, every forced smile you give chiron, and each desperate attempt to hold everything together on your own.

today is no different, of course. the kids are out exploring, their laughter echoing in the distance, while you sit at one of the empty tables with a can of soda, sluggishly jotting down yet another mundane task for the afternoon.

“hey, camper,” you say, barely looking up from your notebook as you take a sip of your strawberry soda.

“come,” he says, but it’s not really a question.

“what?” you glance up, surprise flickering in your eyes as he gently places a hand on your arm, urging you to stand.

“you heard me.” with one hand, he closes your notebook and tucks it under his arm, then grabs your can of soda and takes a sip.

“but—the kids?” you protest, frowning.

“eh. they won’t miss you.” he flashes you a grin, and with a stifled chuckle escaping you, the two of you make your way over to the empty dock, settling down with your legs dangling over the edge.

“how are you?” luke questions, you watch the way his slim waist slumps as he stretched his hands out behind him. “and i mean really.”

“good. haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you in a while though,” you smile, watching your reflection in the water beneath you.

“why?” the boy asked. you paused. there was a look in your eye as you went over your answer, a look that luke would never forget. you never thought of why exactly you’ve been busy all summer. probably because the answer seemed obvious to you.

“i’m working, luke?” you say, though you sound unsure. “why do you ask?”

the wood is warm beneath you as you stare out into the lake. you could see a group of campers staggered around the edges of the lake, a few taking a moment to dip into the coolness of the water. luke was leaned back on his hands, a lazy smile on his face as he watches the way your lips curl up at the sight of your kids.

“mr. d wasn’t the best this morning during senior council…” luke started, carefully watching the way your face twisted for your reaction. “i don’t know, i guess i get surprised when you let things like that slide.”

“what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. he looks almost unreal in the warm light of the setting sun, the golden rays casting a soft glow on the side of his face, making his eyes seem to shine just for you. he was a demigod for sure.

“an intervention,” he jokes, a hint of mischief in his tone. 

you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss how the sunlight catches in your hair, turning it a soft gold. it’s a moment, a second of reluctance that tells him to think twice before he continues this conversation with you.

“look,” he says, his tone shifting slightly. he sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving yours, “i’ve noticed you’ve been working your ass off lately; more than most of us. so why’d you just take that shit from mr. d?”

for a minute, all you could do was stare at him, and all he could do was stare at you. he took note of how the meat on your bones seemed to lessen over the course of the summer, how your tired eyes sunk into your rosy cheeks, and how your lips glossed over with the same lip gloss you had since the sixth grade.

“i know… what it sounds like—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“do you even like being a counsellor?”

“of course, i do,” you say with no hesitation, your eyes hardening as you sounded slightly offended.

his expression softens, concern flickering across his face. “look, baby, i know it’s none of my business how you choose to waste your time, but you barely even sleep anymore.”

you take so much shit from chiron and mr. d and you never even once go against their orders, we haven’t had time alone since before summer, and you give so much of your time to people who don’t deserve it… i know that nobody asked you this before,” 

“but do you ever wonder why?”

the question hangs between you, and for a moment, you’re silent, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. you look down at your hands, playing with the edges of your shorts. “why what?” you knew ‘why what.’

“why are you like this?” he prompts, holding eye contact.

“because…” you sigh, searching for the right words. “i don’t know… but chiron—”

“forget chiron,” he replies softly as he takes your hand in his. “you’re his best counsellor. he was probably just messing with you, sweetheart.”

you meet his gaze, and for the first time, you realise how much weight you’ve been holding. you sigh, looking at him; his eyes never leave yours. 

“maybe you’re right,” you say slowly.

“of course, i’m right,” he scoffs, a smirk creeping onto his face, but the warmth in his eyes makes you want to kiss the smug look right off of it.

“big talk for a hermes, castellan,” you challenge, leaning in closer with a playful grin.

luke smirks, quick to respond. “that’s not the only big thing, baby.”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound ringing out like music in the morning air. it’s the hardest you’ve laughed since before summer camp, and in that moment, you realised just how much you’ve missed this.

[queer-little-demigod]

i like me better when i’m with you - luke castellan

summary when a new kid comes to camp, luke gets a bit more stressed than usual, and he goes to his safe space—you.

fic type fluff

pairing luke castellan x fem!Apollo!reader

word count 1.2k

warnings stressed!luke, very much fluff

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune ! credits to them and do go check out their posts <3

When people thought of the best swordsman in camp, their first thought was Luke Castellan. The calm Hermes cabin counselor, the one who took every unclaimed camper under his wing. It also meant he was thought of as the only one to beat Clarisse in a fight, the one who had better technique than the others by light years.

But for you, Luke was the sweet boy who brought you flowers every other day, the boy who called you ‘sunshine’ to play around, the boy who held you so gently and kissed you so sweet. To you, Luke was just a soft sweetheart who loved you to the ends of the earth.

But ‘only for you’ as a statement held fast and true with him.

He never acted the same way around other campers the way he acted with you. Not only did they never receive even the slightest easy praise as you did, but they never got that blind trust, that unwavering faith he had in you. Maybe the trust bit was a bit exclusive to Annabeth, but even then that was because they were close. Family.

So it did come to you as a shock when Percy came to camp and that side came out in Luke.

After poor Percy’s unfortunately encounter with Clarisse, you had spotted Luke with him and decided to come over. As the counselor of the Apollo cabin, you additionally decided to help your boyfriend and his new little stray.

“Hey Luke,” you smiled, approaching them both as they talked under the shade of the trees. You leaned your arm against his shoulder, smiling at Percy in a friendly way.

Luke took a second to just look at you. He took in the way the dampened sun kissed your hair, making it shine ever so slightly, the way the shadows fell cleanly on your face to highlight the contours of your face, the way you were so at ease around him and the new camper.

He was so used to seeing you that he only had to take a second to appreciate your features and presence.

“Oh, Percy, meet Y/n, Apollo cabin counselor,” Luke said with a slight smile as he looked at the boy.

You put a hand out to Percy. He did really look like a sweet boy with his soft-looking face, blue-green eyes, and curly gold hair.

“Hey Percy, welcome to camp half-blood,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n, Luke’s girlfriend,”

You could practically hear Luke roll his eyes beside you, his hand resting sneakily against the small of your back as it always did.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” said Percy with a small smile.

“Aw, he’s so sweet for a kid on his first day,” you said, looking at Luke, who laughed a bit and looked down, running a hand through his dark curly hair. “What’re you two up to?”

“Nothing much, sunshine, just trying to find out who’s this guy’s godly parent,” Luke shrugged, looking back at you.

“Nice,” you laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I won’t hold you guys up for too long, though. Don’t worry,”

However, once you left, as usual Luke felt your absence instantly. It wasn’t the literal absence, obviously, which everyone felt, but he always felt like a part of him was missing when he wasn’t around you. As if part of his happiness wasn’t there because in truth, it wasn’t.

It also meant his safe space was not around instantly. It meant that his confidant was too many steps away to be immediate, to be accessible.

So he waited, as always.

He waited for the sun to go down, for the time for responsibilities to go down with it. He waited for the moon to rise, for the sky to turn from cornflower to depthless midnight blue.

The camp was quiet, deathly so, with the distant call of owls from the woods and the rustle of leaves when the scarce wind blew. The night was a mask which cloaked his sounds, his footsteps, his presence, as he walked down the mossy stone pathway into the trees, towards the mirroring lake.

There you sat, the daughter of the sun, looking ever-radiant in the moon’s soft glow. Your body was a silhouette against the silver of the ethereal light, your calculating eyes cast towards the lake, where there seemed another world to mirror this.

Lost in your own thoughts, thoughts which were kept at bay during the sun’s time, you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps, the shift of the pebbles on the lakeside, come up behind you and rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Luke, you scared the hell out of me!” You exclaimed, laughing softly, looking up at him with shining eyes.

He shrugged and sat beside you, leaning back on his palms as his long legs stretched out before him, feet a good way away from the water.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he smiled, looking at you.

Your brows quirked up, amused. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yup,”

“Don’t pop the ‘p’ like that you sound ridiculous,”

“I can never sound ridiculous, I’m too good looking for that,”

“Can’t say I agree,”

He looked at you with mock offence and grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he ruffled your hair, ignoring your hushed protests and struggles.

You finally squirmed out of his grip, laughing softly.

“You’re such an ass!” You laughed, shoving him by the shoulder.

He winked at you, smiling in that same mischievous way that reminded you that despite his responsibilities, he wasn’t quite the adult he portrayed himself as. He was just 19, not even at legal drinking age, for gods’ sake.

But he had to admit that your laugh was the sweetest, most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life. It felt like the spring’s first sun—warm, gentle, and comforting. Perhaps even familiar, he would say.

“Now tell me what’s wrong, love,” you said, your e/c falling to rest on his own, holding what looked like concern.

Was he being concerning? At least he must be, for you to look at him as if his puppy just got run over…

‘Safe space, Luke,’ he reminded himself. ‘She knows you too well, she gets you,’

He sighed and nodded, “Well, for starters, Percy’s still unclaimed and will not let the whole ‘where is my dad’ thing go,”

“Baby, he’s 12, of course he’s in shock, he can’t just let things go,” you said.

Of course, Y/n L/n, the voice of straightforward reason.

“I know but…” he sharply let out a breath, trying to find the words which were on the tip of his tongue but were stuck in his throat. “He’s just…he’s not accepting things the way they are. He’s so damn persistent, constantly questioning the way things work.”

You moved closer to him, moving such that you could sit behind him and pull him close to you, letting his back rest against you while your legs stayed on either side. He felt your hands start to play with his curls, fingertips running over his scalp gently.

His whole body tingled, his skin warmed from your touch. Not only was it because you kept your own skin a little warm on cold nights like this but because of how soft you were with him, because of how gentle your touch was. Because he felt a blush creep along his cheeks at the familiarity of the gesture, at how affectionate you were.

“But look, it means that I’m answering questions that no other camper’s asked me before, and I don’t know how I feel about that…unpredictability,” he explained, staring out at the lake. “Plus with day after’s capture the flag and with my training schedule being booked up back to back, I cannot handle those questions because they need time to be thought over and I don’t have that kind of time,”

Your hands in his hair paused as an amused tone came with your words, “…is Luke Castellan admitting to me, Y/n L/n, that he’s stressed? You stressed, baby, is that it?”

He laughed at the way you talked, like he was a child, with that sweet tone, higher pitch, and general air of playfulness.

“No, I’m not,” he protested, looking up at you, a small smile dancing on his lips as he laughed softly.

Gods, his laugh was everything. You enjoyed the rise and fall of it, his deep voice vibrating through your body with how close he was. It wasn’t explosive, nor was it polite. It was just him being a kid, him being himself, unrestrained by the image of a calm and reserved counselor that he had on most of the time.

“That’s a lie,” you smirked, giggling softly, tilting his head back so he could look at you properly.

He smiled a bit, as your finger traced up the line of his scar, and he stuck his tongue out at you jokingly.

“Fine, tell me more. Get it all of your chest,” you winked, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly.

So he talked all his worries away, till the moon rose high and the water stopped rippling. He talked till his throat ran dry and his eyes started to droop as sleep’s staying caress enveloped you both.

“We should get back,” you yawned, feeling him sit up and out of your arms.

He nodded, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Yeah, we should…”

He, as a gentleman, stood up first and helped you up, smiling at you as you dusted yourself off and followed him back through the quiet woods and to the cabins. You looped your hand through the crook of his elbow, resting your head against his shoulder affectionately every now and then, smiling up at him.

The trees weren’t as quiet as the night, nor was the grass, as the crickets chirped softly amidst the foliage, and the leaves rustled with the slightest bit of wind that danced through them.

“Can I bother you for a little kiss before we go back to our cabins?” You asked, standing in front of him at the split in the road which led to the Apollo cabin and Hermes cabin.

Luke thought about it for a moment just to tease you, earning a whack on the arm from your end and a laugh.

“Obviously,” he chuckled, pulling you closer by your wrist, his other arm coming up to encircle your waist, as your head tilted up for your lips to meet his in a soft kiss.

His hand left your wrist to cup your cheek while your arms rested around his neck, holding him such that he stayed down a bit to your level. Your lips moved in sync, the action already a habit with the number of times you both had kissed in the past two years of you both dating.

Despite that, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you so tenderly.

Once air became a problem you both had to pull away, and a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” you smiled, winking at him.

“No doubt, sunshine,” he smiled back, ruffling your hair gently, earning a sound of protest from your end as well.

“You know I hate that nickname,”

“Too bad, sunshine,”

All you could do was roll your eyes and press a soft kiss to his cheek before turning back and heading back to the Apollo cabin on soft cat feet, making little noise as you fell into your covers, giggling softly at the ghost feeling of his lips back on yours.

Stuff was better when he was with you.

Hi! I t’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3 the ending is a bit eh but otherwise I hope you liked it <3

[aphroditesmoon]

tide

clarisse la rue x poseidon's daughter

summary: clarisse and reader have been rivals since they first met, but when someone does a harmless prank ends up seriously hurting reader, she throws all thought aside to save her.

warnings: enemies to lovers ish, drowning, reader can't swim (ironic), cursing

wc: 3k

---

It's rare that any camper get to leave camp at all, and all of them getting to leave at the same time is even more suspicious.

But no one complained when they were offered a little vacation by the river for a day. Finally, a break from all the training and learning.

Unfortunate events usually follow along after good days, but as of this moment right now, you refused to think of the Gods' dirty games with each other and how you'd all eventually be used as pawns. Whatever hurricane coming after will be dealt with when it happens. But today isn't about them or any other war you'd be forced to fight in. Today is about the campers for once.

You lounged against a large rock in your dark blue swimsuit while the others played in the water, swinging themselves of the wooden bridge from a rope. Any animosity that ever existed between different cabins disappeared today. Everyone is one and the same, and everyone regards each other as family.

You dipped your toes shyly into the clear water as you leaned back on the rock with your eyes closed, bathing under the golden sun that lit your skin up like gold. The weather was as joyous as the people's exultation, There is a certain peacefulness that spreads in the air and it was nice.

The laughter and chattering provided a feeling of comfort that you find yourself lacking these days. Being a half-blood meant adapting to the uncomfortable and dangerous, and so these kind of days where you feel that you could just exist without a burdening expectation over your head is immensely appreciated.

Your sunbathing is interrupted when you feel a shadow looming over you, and drops of water falling onto your face. Opening your eyes, you're met with a dripping wet Luke Castellan grinning down at you. "Move, you dog." You squealed, wiping the wetness off of you. He shook his head violently, scattering more water over your body, making you scream out in annoyance. "I will kill you!" You declared loudly and shoved him with your feet, making him stop.

"What are you doing on dry land, daughter of Poseidon?" He asks, unaffected with your teasing threats.

"Don't last name me, and I'm sunbathing." You informed and shoved him to the side with your feet. "Sunbathing? You're supposed to be in the water, is that not your natural habitat?" You smiled despite yourself and shook your head.

"I'm perfectly fine up here, so you can continue having your fun down there." Luke nodded absent-mindedly. "Oh it's definitely fun, alright. Though on a random note, did you notice at all that a certain someone has been sending death glares in your direction?"

You frowned, "who-?" Luke interjects. "Don't look behind you-" too late, you turned around anyways. And lo behold, Clarisse La Rue's eyes met yours, and you have never seen her twist her head around as quickly as she did at the moment.

"Oh, her." You sighed. Luke gave you a curious look of curiously. "I never understood your rivalry, not even right now." You shrugged and closed your eyes back again.

"You can go ahead and ask her about it. She just can't stop finding issues with me, always in need of an argument." It's true, you thought.

Sure, there are plenty of moments where you fought first, wanting to get your lick back. But it was all in response to her hostility first. And even now, on a day where everyone ought to enjoy themselves, she would rather stare you down so intensely, ruining her own day.

You still remember the first time you realized that she hated you. It was after you were claimed, while everyone else was in a pleasant mood, mostly surprised. Her expression is one of annoyance. Because how dare anyone here shine brighter than her. You both were still so young at the time. But it only got worse over time.

She had thought that you'd subjugate yourself to her like some coward. But you stood your ground, a daughter of Poseidon would not cower from another half blood like a spineless creature.

And as much as she's a vengeful fighter, you could also see the glint of admiration growing in her gaze over time. She didn't want to admit it, but she had finally found someone her own size. You, of course, usually dealt with things as pragmatic as you could, but some bullies are begging to be bullied back.

It wasn't all bad though, sometimes it was even fun. Like two children being petty for the sake of pettiness.

"At least one of us is enjoying our day." You thought aloud. You didn't miss the scorned expression on Clarisse's face before she looked away. "Are you enjoying your day?" Luke asks, folding his arms together.

He always thought he was good at reading people. And maybe he was with some people, but you pride yourself in being unexpected. Sometimes you say things you don't mean and do things you wish you didn't have to just to get by. People only knew things about you that you wanted them to know. Let them in a few stories and they'll think they've successfully interpreted you.

And as much as you liked Luke, he is not an exception.

"Yes, I just told you I am." He hummed in question, making you open your eyes again. "You know it's not everyday we get to leave camp like this, and you're spending it on dry land? You can sunbathe anytime you like back there."

"Why are you so keen on getting me down there?" You inquired, amused. "Because there is no way you're getting me to get in there, I mean I just had hair wash day."

"Are you sure about that?" Before you could answer, he had bowed down and grabbed you by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Luke-" you shouted out, the sudden movement taking you by surprise. It was easy to understand what he was going to do when he began running towards the bridge. You felt your blood run cold.

"Don't throw me in! I swear to god Luke-" You yelled with all your heart, but the boy seemed to assume that you were joking as he laughed at your words.

"Off with the fishes you go!" He responded and swung you off of him and straight into the large body of water. You were sure that your scream probably reached Tartarus itself as it definitely exceeded your lung capacity. The last thing you remember screaming out was 'I'm going to kill you', but those words had died on your tongue in a speed as you fell deep into the river with a splash, causing everyone near you to run out in shock.

You could hear some laughing and clapping as you melted into the water, but it all started dissolving until all you could hear were gurgles and distorted noises. You felt yourself begin to struggle while you flapped your arms around, trying to stay afloat. You were sure that you were going to die when no magical breathing miracles saved you from suffocating and drowning.

You flapped your hands and feet harder, attempting to mimic swimmers, hoping that you'll somehow take up swimming naturally despite never learning to do so for your entire life. The irony of being a daughter of Poseidon that can't swim isn't lost on you, it is exactly why you never told anyone about it. If they knew, you'd be the joke of the camp.

A solid minute has surely pass before you gave up completely in ever swimming back up, now the doubt that you were ever Poseidon's child begins to creep in on your last moments of being alive. Because surely, even if you can't swim, your father could just magically pop you back up.

Unless he is just severely disappointed in your lack of ability and deems you fit to die instead of just humiliating him. And at this very moment, you honestly would agree with him.

Your last conscious thoughts are interrupted abruptly when you felt a strong push of ripple plunging into the river, you could barely open your eyes as you continued to sink in, but the sight of a recognizable face, diving straight your way, woke you back up from the dead.

You weren't sure how to feel as sharp and hollow pain began attacking your chest while you watched the brunette swim fiercely, her hair moving wildly like strong waves hitting shore.

Her right arm circles your waist as her left one slipped under your arm, urging you to grab onto her. And grab onto her you did.

She pulled you with her easily, her hold on you firm as she swam back up. Your head throbbed at the sudden fast movement, but once your head rises out of the water and you're able to breathe again, it slowly fades away, leaving you dizzy and grateful.

"There you are." Clarisse exhaled. She sounded relieved as she gathered you into an embrace, making sure you stay afloat. "Don't pass out, stay with me for just a little more."

I'm not passing out, you wanted to argue, even at this second. But the only thing that escaped your lips is a groan of agony. "Stupid fucking imbeciles." She cursed under her heavy breathing. You almost assumed it was targeted towards you until you noticed the plural nouns added in her sentence.

"I can't-" you started, "don't say anything." Clarisse interjected in a stern tone.

Your body was limp when you both finally reached land. Everyone moved away, letting you lie down against a large boulder. You felt Clarisse's hands slowly slip away from your skin, though she's still hovering over you with a worried gaze.

"Make way!" Chiron's voice thundered through the air. Clarisse turned a deaf ear at his command and stayed by your side, but for whatever reason, he didn’t reprimand her for it.

"Who's smart idea was it to toss your friend off into the river?" Chiron asks, scanning the confused and surprised crowd of people for any guilty faces.

Luke raises his hand, unafraid but apologetic. "I didn't know she can't swim." He stated honestly, and you hear some of the other campers agreeing with him.

Clarisse's eyes remained locked on yours. You wait for any sign of mockery to appear, a hint of condescending somewhere waiting to come out, but none appears.

You could hear Chiron sighing tiredly, "Well, no one did." And he's right, what Luke did was supposed to be a harmless joke. It is unexpected that you of all people would not know how to swim. Clarisse breaks her gaze from you as she turns towards Chiron. "They didn't have to know that she can't swim to be able to see that she was drowning." Clarisse snapped, her brows furrowed together. Before the situation could end up worse than it already has, you waved your arm up and yelped in pain. "I think I'm going to pass out." You lied.

"I can get her back to the tent back there." Clarisse offered, or stated moreso. Chiron granted her permission with argument, and with that the whole crowd dissolves back into the space the same way they were before, only some spared you some glances as Clarisse helped you walk slowly towards the small tent that's slightly further from the river.

The walk back was quiet, neither of you are brave enough to start a civil conversation. It was only after she had helped you sit criss crossed inside the tent and was ready to leave that you managed to insert a small thank you. She paused in her steps and slowly whirled around to face you. "I'm teaching you how to swim when we get back." She says as a response.

It was neither a threat or an offer. Taking your silence as an agreement, Clarisse nods her head once and walked off towards her siblings, leaving you distracted and deep in thought about what just

---

It was a paradoxical situation, and yet neither of you had it in yourselves to point it out.

Perhaps amiability towards Clarisse wasn't as difficult as you'd thought it would be. But your biggest concern wasn't regarding yourself, it regarded Clarisse and her own capability of remaining amiable towards you.

She was never one to practice self restraint. Everyone in the whole camp could vouch for that. And yet here she is, knee deep in the sea with her hands holding onto your wrists, ushering you in.

"You can't stay on the shallow level forever, you need to get in deeper." She repeated for the fourth time, frustration was visible on her face.

"No, I'm telling you I can't-" you argued. Clarisse sighed in annoyance, "I'm not going to let go!" She insisted. "Yes you will, I know this trick." You glared at her like an upset child.

Her anger almost diffused as you saw a hint of humor painting over her face, as if she's trying not to laugh in your face. "I'm not tricking you, I don't waste time on tricks. If I wanted to hurt you somehow I would've just shoved you in and left." She explained in a pleading tone.

"That's very reassuring." You responded sarcastically, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was strong. "Stop acting like a child." Clarisse chided.

Your eyes widened in offesne before you started pulling your arms harder to get her off of you. "Stop it!" Clarisse yelled out, her patience thinning. You said nothing and continued to drag your feet backwards, little movements were made as Clarisse was weighing you down like a log. "Let go of me." You demanded through gritted teeth.

Her face contorted in anger, and just as you began pulling again, she let go of you completely, "fine."

Unprepared for the push of gravity, your feet slipped against the mix of rock, seashells and water, making you fall on your back, squealing in panic. You flailed your arms around trying to balance yourself up, and just before your back would be plunged down, Clarisse scrambled to wrap her arms around your back, saving you from your fall.

"Oh my god." You gasped out, palms over her shoulders. "No god," she replied dryly. "Just me."

Relief enters your chest as your feet are flat against the ground again. But it was temporary, looking at her smug expression compelled you to act as stupid as you just did, shoving her off strongly, you didn't take into account that she was still holding you, and so as she crashed, you followed along on top.

"Oh my fucking god." Clarisse growled loudly spitting up water as you crawled off of her to stand up. "You did not just do that." Sitting up, she scowled and stared down at you, looking like an angry soggy kitten with her hair and face wet.

"Well, I did. What are you going to do about it?" You snarled, wiping water off of your face. "Hey, I am not a child throwing a tantrum like you." She snapped back.

"Oh, that would be a first time for you." You scoffed at her words and walked out on her.

"Where are you going?" You heard her call out. "Away from all this bullshit." You could hear her quickly running after you, water splashing loudly as she moved.

"Look, do you think I want to do this?"

You twisted your head around to meet her gaze. "Then don't!"

"Okay." She breathed out, shrugging like it didn't matter. "But it's clear right now, that everyone knows your weakness. And not even your own father has your back right now. I'm the only one who does."

The fire in you refused to die down, but her words reduced you to ashes. Your shoulders relaxed and you took her appearane in.

She's right, your whole life, everyone had given up on you, except for yourself. You taught yourself everything and you fought to survive daily from the horrors of being a forbidden child. And this one thing, which happens to be the worst weaknesses of all considering your position, is something you can't teach yourself to do. Hell, you couldn't even bring it up without feeling like shit.

But now it's all out in the open. The jokes might be bad, but what's worse is getting hunted down and killed in ease by monsters and gods who knew that you'd have no one to protect you, not even your dad.

"Why do you care?" You ask sincerely.

She was silent for a while, looking away immediately. Not embarrassed, just deep in thought.

"I don't know, maybe I just...I know what it's like. To feel helpless, to have to pick yourself back up. And normally I don't give two shits about what anyone else feels. But I know you, and you know me. And maybe-" She inhaled deeply and finally turned to face you.

"Maybe we can help each other."

You raised a brow, "and why would you need my help, you could, I don't know, take over the world if you wanted to."

She actually smiled at that, something you rarely see and hope you would do more of. "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not perfect."

"So, what? Are we friends now?" You ask.

She shrugged her shoulders again, "Let's start with that, sure. Now, if you can get your ass back in here, I promise I won't drown you or anything, and you can actually learn how to swim like you should've years ago?"

You took a deep breath, wincing at the idea.

"It's not as hard as you think, I know it's terrifying to think of yourself in a position where you have no control." She attempts harder, stretching out her hands towards you.

"If I drown-" you started and was quickly cut off. "You won't. I got you."

If she had uttered this sentence to you about two days ago, you would've laughed because you couldn't imagine a situation where she would have your back. But today is a different day.

[kamaluhkhan]

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city. 

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over. 

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade. 

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him. 

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted. 

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time. 

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off. 

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior. 

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?” 

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.” 

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch. 

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities. 

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world. 

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —” 

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips. 

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?” 

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth? 

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink. 

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done. 

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too. 

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

 “yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too. 

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside. 

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too. 

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears. 

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies. 

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories. 

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?” 

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:�� 

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you. 

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking. 

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together. 

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again. 

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army. 

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts. 

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back. 

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth. 

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before. 

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl. 

luke blushes. 

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you. 

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.  

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you. 

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really. 

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules. 

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further. 

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.”  with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care. 

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him. 

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind. 

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind. 

he’ll happily yield his power to you. 

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you. 

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue. 

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt. 

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit. 

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you. 

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist. 

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines. 

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin. 

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

[wlntrsldler]

soldier, poet, king | luke castellan

song: soldier, poet, king by the oh hellos

warnings: not canon compliant, struck by inspiration and wrote this in one sitting so it's kinda just me rambling

i. the soldier

luke grew up a gentle child. he was the type of child who showed mercy at everything, at everyone, even when he knew that he held more power than them. and he did have more power than them.

from a young age, he knew he was different. he just didn't know how or why. it wasn't like he could just ask his mother why locked doors suddenly unlocked when he touched the knob, or why he always seemed to get away with stealing an extra cookie at the lunch line, or why he seemed to understand people who gossiped in other languages. not only were these odd talents to have (and yes he used odd because that's what his classmates used to call him) and his mother would probably not know the answers anyway, but his mother was unreliable at best.

luke was a quiet child. he never talked about what life at home was like and nobody ever asked him. after all, he showed up to school showered, dressed, and fed. there were no red flags there. he didn't blame the school for not knowing his living situation. how could they know? but sometimes, nine-year-old luke castellan wished someone bothered to ask.

maybe if they did, luke would tell them about how his mother talked to herself in the middle of the night and seemed to argue with the pictures on the walls. maybe if they did, luke would tell them that his mother didn't recognize him sometimes and that she would scream at the top of her lungs until her body grew tired then she'd sit still at the kitchen table until the sun rose.

or maybe he wouldn't. he didn't want to be a bother to anyone.

luke had never hurt anything until he was nine. up until then, he used to scoop up spiders on a piece of paper and release them into the world. it felt wrong to kill them so he never did. he used to watch his steps on the way home from school in fear of accidentally killing a centipede on the sidewalk. he used to leave food on the porch for the stray animals that passed by his neighborhood.

luke grew up a gentle child. until he fled home.

the first time luke killed something was when he was roaming the forests of massachusetts. he ran out of food days ago and was surviving on the honey bun an old lady at the gas station bought for him. it wasn't the healthiest option, but she assumed that he was starving from a long day at school and took pity on him. luke said his thanks and returned to his journey.

he could see the sun beginning to set behind the trees. in another life, he'd be watching the sunset in a tent with his mom. it would've been a family camping trip. he took a bite of the now stale honey bun and imagined it was a gooey marshmallow that his mom helped him roast over the campfire. as he crumpled the plastic, he heard it-- a scream from a girl.

luke's eyes widened and he raced to where the sound came from, reaching for the pocket knife he stole from the box his mom kept hidden in the attic. she never let him up there, but as luke was packing his things to leave, something told him to disobey his mother.

he found you with your back against a tree, terrified, with a dog-like creature snarling at you. it had two heads, glowing eyes, and what seemed like a million teeth. it turned its heads to look at luke, and the smile that dawned on its face was haunting. luke fumbled with the pocket knife and watched in amazement as it grew into a sword, both silver and gold, and seemed to illuminate underneath the descending rays of the sun.

luke stumbled in his steps as he held the sword tightly in his small hands and he swung. the dog barred its teeth, no doubt upset that luke was putting up a fight. his technique was nonexistent. he just swung and swung until he managed to lay a blow on the creature, and when he'd done enough damage, luke pierced the sword between the dog's two heads and watched it vanish into thin air.

luke dropped the sword by his feet, trying to catch his breath. he'd almost forgotten that you were there, that he did all that to save someone else. it wasn't until you placed a hand on his shoulder that luke was pulled back to life.

"thank you," you whispered. luke got a good look at you then. tear streaks down your face, hair a mess in two thick braids on either side of your head, and eyes that seemed hollow, though the will of wanting to survive fought to keep the traces of you there. "you saved my life."

luke looked down at his feet to find the pocket knife back in its original form. he bent down to pick it up, hands still trembling as he stuffed it in his back pocket. he wiped his sweaty palms against the fabric of his jeans, "i-i've never killed something before."

"me either," you gulped, nodding. "i'm y/n."

luke brushed his stray curls from his forehead, "luke."

ii. the poet

life at camp half blood became repetitive after a while. training, dinner, offerings, and repeat. luke was excited when he became the head counselor of the hermes cabin because at least he had something new to do. he no longer needed to follow you around to fill his time, though he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss spending so much time with you.

you'd been promoted as the head counselor of your own cabin months before luke, which was overdue in his opinion. you'd grown dependable, strong, and fearless over the years at camp. sometimes luke couldn't believe that you were the same girl who cowered against a hellhound all those years ago.

the life he had before he met you seemed like a lifetime ago, and in some ways, it was. eight years had gone by since he arrived at camp half blood. he's seventeen now. time had taken away many of his memories from his childhood.

"hey soldier," you greeted, bumping his shoulder with your own. "done with your list yet?"

"soldier," he greeted with a bright smile. "just about. want to tag along while i finish up?"

the nickname grew out of a morbid conversation the two of you had a few years ago. it was after you'd just gotten claimed by your parent, the night before you were due to move out of the hermes cabin. luke had found you sitting in the middle of the arena, your sword tossed carelessly on the floor. when you didn't show up to the cabin after lights out, luke knew he had to look for you.

"hey," luke approached you gently, taking the spot beside you. "everything ok?"

you lifted your head, craning your neck to look at him. you shook your head, "no."

his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "what's wrong?"

"i have a quest," you mumbled, tears welling up in your eyes. "that's why she claimed me."

for years, you found home in the hermes cabin. year by year, you admitted defeat, thinking that your parent would never claim you as theirs. it was painful, watching new arrivals get claimed by their parent while you watched on the sidelines, clapping in celebration. you faked smiles and niceties, but luke knew how much it hurt you.

he'd walk with you back to the hermes cabin and kept you company until you felt better. if he had it his way, he'd stay beside you forever, but he'll be content if he got to stay with you until you didn't want him to anymore. thankfully, that time hadn't come yet.

luke felt anger bubbling in his chest as he scoffed, "all these years... i'm sorry y/n. that's fucked up."

"it's okay, luke."

"it's not, though," he shook his head, "it's not okay that she only wants to claim you because she needs you. what about when you needed her, huh? all those years that she ignored you."

your shoulders deflated. luke was saying all the things you'd been repeating in your head since you've been claimed. "i know, luke, but that's just how the gods are."

"maybe that's the problem," he said. his anger kept increasing, his voice sharpening after each word. he thought about the worst-case scenarios if you left. you could get hurt. you could get trapped somewhere. you could die. the thought of it made luke sick. "maybe the gods need to get a taste of their own medicine. tell me you're not going on that quest."

"i have to."

"then i'll come with you."

you placed a hand on his thigh, "i can't ask you to do that."

"you're not asking. i'm offering."

"no, luke," you sighed, "as much as i would like you there, someone needs to stay here. someone needs to look after annie and the rest of the kids."

"and who's gonna look after you?"

"i'll be okay," you managed to smile, "i can hold my own now. i have the best teacher, remember?"

luke's eyes softened at your words. he'd been teaching you fighting techniques since he was dubbed the best swordsman of camp in centuries. everything he learned, he passed onto you. the life of a demigod was unpredictable outside the walls of camp half blood, and if there came a time when he wouldn't be around, he wanted to make sure you could fend for yourself.

he took your hand in his, tugging on your arm to pull you closer. once you were close enough, he wrapped an arm around you and placed his chin on the top of your head. "i know you can."

there was a silence that fell upon the two of you after that. the two of you sat there beside each other for a beat before you spoke again, "do you think they will ever change?"

"no," luke answered honestly. "we are not their children. we're soldiers to them."

as time passed, the truer those words became. he watched his friends, his siblings, return as a shell of themselves after their quest. he often wondered when he'd be called for his, though he was in no rush. some people were gone for weeks, months, sometimes years, and he couldn't fathom being apart from you for that long.

as he snapped out of his thoughts, you laced your fingers with his, "i'd love to join. i miss your siblings."

luke laughed, "they miss you too. i'm no longer their favorite now that i'm head counselor."

"that's because you never let them have fun," you joked, "fun is good. in moderation."

"hermes kids don't understand the word moderation."

"true," you giggled, running your finger across his knuckles. "chiron is looking for you, by the way. said it's urgent."

luke shrugged, placing a kiss on your temple, "i'm sure it can wait. wanna spend some time with you after finishing up. feels like i haven't seen you in ages."

"we just had breakfast and lunch together, luke," you cocked an eyebrow teasingly, though your grip on his hand tightened. "can't get enough of me?"

"you know the answer to that," he hummed, not deterred by your tone. he never kept it a secret that he'd follow you to the ends of the world if you asked. "but we haven't gotten time with just us two in a while. would like to be able to kiss my girlfriend without campers saying ew."

"the ew's don't seem to bother you that much because you do it anyway."

luke stopped, untangling your fingers so he could hold your face in his hands. he placed a long kiss on your lips, one that left you breathless. "like you said, i can't get enough of you."

iii. the king

the waters were rough tonight. princess andromeda rocked harshly against the current, but luke remained unmoving at the front of the ship. he stared out into the dark waters, thinking back on the memories he had left. kronos was slowly chipping away at all of them, but he held tightly on certain ones because he didn't want to forget.

all of the memories were of you-- the way your skin flushed red after hours training in the arena, the way your hair fell in a tangled mess when you let your hair down, the sound of your laughter when he kissed your neck and his curls tickled your skin. these were things he would fight to remember.

luke thinks a fate more cruel than death would be to forget you.

tomorrow would mark a year since he left camp half blood to lead kronos' army, a year since he last saw you. it seemed trivial to him now to think about the 'what-if's' of his quest, thinking about all that time he would spend without you, only to have it happen anyway. only this time, he knew for certain he wouldn't return again.

life on the ship was vastly different from camp half blood. luke never thought that he'd miss the boring routine, but he did. the only thing that stayed the same was that he remained in power. in camp half blood, he was respected, seen as the leader of the pack. and here, the same can be said. he was kronos' right hand, and until the titan was able to attain his physical form, luke was in charge.

he was the captain of the ship. he was the king. he would bring glory to the demigods.

in the distance, a faint light appeared. luke squinted as he tried to make out the object slowly coming closer. he turned to enter the ship, the room falling silent when he opened the door.

"there's something out there."

chris stood up, approaching luke. he was the only one who dared to address him and luke preferred it that way. chris was his brother. he didn't know the rest of them well.

chris cleared his throat, "we just got word from someone on the inside that they're sending some people to attack us."

"so that's what's out there," luke clenched his jaw, "who did they send?"

"percy, annabeth," chris gulped, "and y/n."

for a moment, luke's demeanor faltered. were you really on your way to fight him? is that what your relationship had come to? luke bit his tongue, trying to control his emotions. he crossed his arms across his chest, "change course now."

another one of the demigods stood up, a puzzled expression on his face, "what? there's only three of them. they're outnumbered. we can take them."

"did i stutter?" luke snarled, "i said change course."

"it doesn't make sense to. changing course will set us back at least. a day!"

"are you in charge?" luke questioned. in his heart, he knew he would pay for this later on. once kronos hears that luke changed the plans without his knowledge, he would suffer but he thinks that whatever torture kronos has in store for him would be less painful than seeing you again.

you were fighting the same war, but you stood on different sides. it was something luke still had trouble coming to terms with.

the boy shook his head, cowering in fear as he made his way out of the room to relay luke's orders to the others. luke turned around and pinched the bridge of his nose before walking back out to the front of the ship. he held onto the railing as the ship turned right, his body jerking with the motion. he always did seem to lose his composure when it came to you. as the ship sailed away, he watched the light he saw in the distance fade into the darkness.

[thekissofaphrodite]

Heart of Stone

Jessica Parker Kennedy!Medusa X Blind!wife!reader

Summary: Humans after creatures were petrified by her blinding eye, but it seems like Medusa's heart of stone was fixed by a certain someone she calls a wife.

Warning: Flashbacks of Rape and Death of child (I think that's all)

Author's note: Percy Jackson this, Luke Castellan that. I'll take medusa.

——

"You think I'll hold a grudge on you just because you are a daughter of Athena?" Medusa said sweetly as she stared at Annabeth through her veiled hat whilst pouring freshly made lemonade into one of the cups.

Annabeth kept a neutral expression, carefully watching Medusa's movements whilst keeping an eye on grover, who munched happily on one of the snacks.

Medusa watched grover with a smile, barely glancing at percy.

"You like them?" She asked Grover, The Satyr nodded enthusiastically.

"My wife made them." All of the eyes were now on medusa's.

The trio shared a confused glance, Percy and Grover threw Annabeth a 'What the actual hell did she say?' and Annabeth threw back a much confused glance, saying 'I dont know either'

Percy was the first one to break the silence, His head still low as he played with the strawberry cheesecake on his plate with a silver fork.

"Er..Wife? you said...isn't that impossible since you're.. You know..." Medusa chuckled wholeheartedly, Annabeth just rolled her eyes and nudged Grover.

"She's blind.. The gods also punished her a long time ago.." After that statement, the trio immediately turned their heads, curiously sitting down and patiently waiting for a story.

"She was once a beautiful nymph that served Circe... Goddess of Aiaia. She was beautiful, then...Hermes.. The messenger God fell in love with her whilst he was still in a relationship with Circe, She rejected him multiple times, but in desperation he—" Medusa Inhaled sharply, Her fist curling up into a ball in anger, she was hesitating to continue the story.

"He asked Aphrodite to make him a draught so she can sleep with him..and it worked, When Circe found out she was so outraged and jealous that she poured every potion she had into her eyes..Her once beautiful green eyes, and cursed her saying 'You shall never see the light of day, Again' " The story finished, Annabeth, Percy and Grover went silent, Medusa however looked at the demigods, watching for any signs of mercy or pity in their eyes.

Then, the silence was interrupted by someone, behind the door.

"Emmy? I think the food you're making is burnt— I smell brownies— Oh! please tell me you're making them!" You. She were gorgeous, with waist length red hair and pale skin, a line of dark freckles trailing down your breasts and arms. you was wearing a floral dress beautifully. you almost looked like a goddess. If it wasn't for your grey eyes, that was once green that made you less perfect.

Medusa's expressions changed neutrally to cheerful. The trio noticed a pair of ring Medusa and Her wife had.

The blind woman, who was Medusa's wife, had a snake ring on her finger, while medusa had a simple gold ring with an emerald stone.

"We have visitors?" You asked, As Medusa walked towards you and looped her arms with yours.

"They're demigods, Dear" Medusa whispered to your ear, making you frown a little.

"I'll go back to the kitchen. You can handle them, yes?" Medusa nodded, and you a kiss on your cheeks before watching her wife go.

——

It wasn't that long when you heard screams and running footsteps, It was definitely the demigods.

Years after years, you lived with Medusa, The bravest warriors to the most cowardly men had stepped inside your home, and none escaped. Not with her deadly eyes.

But you knew those demigods don't stood a chance.

You stared at the blowing kettle, feeling the heat wash over you as sweat trickled down your neck.

And why should you and medusa hide your capabilities and powers when you two are far more superior?

You remembered it all too well.

Hermes drugged you and forced you into his bed, shamelessly raping you all over again until he's content, Circe in fury punishing you. You begged and explained, You really did...But she never listened.

Circe, Banishing you out of Aiaia... You being pregnant. You giving birth near a cave.. Your baby boy dying... Medusa finding you...

Life was hard.. The Gods gave no mercy and pity. But here you are. Still standing with the woman who saved you.

You heard footsteps coming upstairs. You smiled thinking that your trap might work.

"Do you find everything pleasant?" You whispered sweetly.

there was no response.

But then, someone grabbed you by your long hair and slashed your neck.

Medusa ran as fast as she could when she heard screams, But her heeled sandals failed her.

You were now lying on the ground, blood spurting out of your neck as you tried to gasp for air. Tears poured down your cheeks as you tried to say Medusa's name.

Medusa screamed. A blood curling scream as she fell down and held your body. The wife she had protected all these years. Her wife. Her soul mate. Her one and true love, Dead.

You tried to speak, but no words came out of your mouth. Instead, as you were dying, Your green eyes gained a clearer vision of your wife. Her beautiful face was crying, Snakes hissing as her hair..But you never mind, Her beauty never scared you after all. Her blue eyes looked at yours. As you slip away from consciousness, you can sleep peacefully after taking a look at your blue-eyed beauty.

In the small cottage, Medusa stood up, Your blood staining her hands as she glanced at the trio, She slowly walked towards them, and grinned.

"I don't mind three additional statues filling my home..."

A/N: FIRST MEDUSA FF. HOW DID I DO? I RLLY WANNA ADD TRAGEDY AND LOVE AT THE SAME TIME SO HERE WE ARE! I DO HOPE YOU LIKE EM!!

[iceandpeaches]

just not home

a/n: luke castellan betrayal blurb...

"I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want, just not home

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood

But you would still miss me in your bones

And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky)

And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)"

you thought your relationship with luke was perfect. you had everything you ever dreamed of and beyond that. luke was your everything — every worry, every frustration, every moment of sadness would disappear when you were in his arms. he was the supportive boyfriend everyone wanted and yet, he chose you. 

that was until he betrayed you, of course.

you didn’t take it too well when you had found out that luke was working for kronos. i mean, who would? the boy who was loved by everyone, you included.. betrayed you all. you were once filled with warmth and happiness, but all that love and support, gods the man you once loved and called home. who could you run to now?

you’re sat on your bunk in your cabin, staring up at the ceiling. you heard a voice in your head, luke’s voice. 

“meet me by thalia’s tree. at midnight today.”

“luke?”

you looked around as you sat up on your bed, were you hearing things? was luke actually there or was it just in your head?

the evening came by rapidly, you were sat by the campfire with a dull expression. but the voice was in your head again.

“see you soon, my love. i miss you, in my bones.”

you were definitely hearing things now. luke was nowhere to be seen. was he playing with you now?

midnight came by, and you snuck out of your cabin walking toward thalia’s tree. you didn’t even make it close before you were greeted with a hand over your mouth, which caused you to panic.

“shh.. relax love. it’s just me.” 

.. luke?

luke loosened his grip, you both now facing each other. you were taken aback. was that really.. luke? 

“not excited to see me?”

were you? you shook your head, tears forming in your eyes.

“kronos. really luke? really?”

“love, i had to.”

“.. did you really?”

“i’m.. here to recruit.”

you reached for your dagger, but luke was three steps ahead. the boy had his sword to your throat, a smirk painting his no longer delicate features. today, his scar seemed to illuminate more than it had ever in the period of time that you’d known him. he wasn’t the luke you knew. the glimmer of gold in his eyes that were clouded with darkness and menace. 

“yeah, aim for my heart. go for blood too while you’re at it.”

“i.. please don’t do this. you know i’ve missed you. just.. come with me, please. we can overthrow the gods together.”

“i.. i can’t luke."

luke scoffed and ran away from camp after your rejection, knowing there was no way he'd be able to convince you a second time to join him. you were loyal to the gods, and there was no way of manipulating you into following him because you were too smart for that. even if he could go anywhere he wanted, he couldn't go back to you - his home.

[shannara810]

I can see percy being an artist vibe. But more of make sculptors and crazy paintings vibe. Like very crazy. He collects sea shells and sea glass to make sculptors.

Mmm, let's see what I can do with your prompt. Gonna write it straight away, so I'm sorry in advance for the mistakes 🥲, @darkcrowprincess .

"Yancy Academy had a new Art Teacher.

Monsieur Poitiers was quite funny in his looks: short and stocky the teacher looked like an egg, with two thin black moustache he liked to roll up on his index finger.

The task he had assigned Percy for the end of his school year was quite peculiar too: the teen had to "catch the essence of a Hero" in an artwork, using the materials he preferred.

Sculpture, painting, mosaic: it mattered little. Mounsier Poitiers didn't give him any kind of limit, Percy could choose the form of art he liked best. The only thing the teacher asked for was that the message had to come "straight from his heart".

At first Percy didn't give much thought to his assignment. I mean: being a demigod himself, his life was full of "Heroes", so how hard could it be?

His mom was a hero. Annabeth was his hero. As soon as he had time to work on it, he was sure to finish his painting in the blink of an eye. However...

Nothing. His mind was blank.

He tried to picture Annabeth on a canvas or as one of those white marble statues he had seen at the Museum, but nothing worked.

It was driving him bonkers! He took a deep breath. He was tired. That's all. He could work on his drawing another day.

New quests, new missions, new bullies. His life was so messed up, he soon forgot about his art assignment.

Well, till the day before he had to hand it over.

When he finally remembered the artwork, Percy went crazy. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to bad grades, but he really liked Monsieur Poitiers and didn't want to disappoint him.

So Percy started to fiddle with some shells and colored glass he had collected near Mountak. In truth he didn't have any idea of what he was doing. He was just putting things together on a hunch. Soon, however, the shells took the shape a face; yet they were not quite right in his eyes. They lacked... something, one last touch.

Yellow and white and orange. Gold right there! He needed to add something gold. And light blue. The kind of blue the sky turned to just a moment before a summer storm blew it.

He was so caught up in this weird art frenzy he forgot to eat that night, but finally! It was done. Finito. Caput.

He was going to ace his test, he was sure of this!

The next day Mounsier Poitiers was quite pleased with his student. The teacher spent words on words to praise the perfection of his work: such strong feelings! Percy's artwork deserved an A+, but the teen had to give it a title first!

"Hmm?"

Who was that man? The man Percy had portrayed in his mosaic, the hero who could evoke such passion in his teen heart?

At Percy's puzzled expression, Mounsier Poitiers laughed a little. The shades of gold in his hair, the scar on the candid cheek: it was personal. The man Percy had chosen as his Hero could not have been a stranger. There was warmth in this work, a deep love for the person who had been captured in shells and glass.

The teacher's words had the effect of a bomb on the poor boy. It was like being thunderstruck.

"Luke..."

Because it was Luke, there was no doubt. The hero who had inspired Percy's first A+ on a schoolwork was Luke Castellan".

[iwanttolaunchmyselfintothesun]

i will leave this here and y'all can tell me what you think lol!!! IT'S PERCABETH BUT MAKE IT DRAMATIC, JELOUSY-ADDLED AND HORNY !!

Percy's downfall on the road to love is the day he moves in down the street from Annabeth. 

Because the same day Percy moves in, is the same day Luke moves out, and already she hates him.

At 12, he'd excitedly barrelled out of the moving van, eager to greet the neighbourhood kids after six hours in a car with his parents, and for the most part, they'd responded back in kind. Grover had been particularly happy to have a new playmate in the same grade as him. 

Everyone had greeted him warmly, and then there had been Annabeth.

Her grey eyes, already so unique, piquing his curiosity almost immediately, because he'd never met a girl with such interesting eyes before, they’d been tinged dark, stormy. 

Because as Percy had come to find out, with Percy's arrival in the neighbourhood, had come Luke's departure and the distance between a boy two years older and a girl hopelessly in love had become insurmountable. 

Annabeth had been frosty, to say the least.

And despite his best efforts, worming his way under her skin, so many summers, so many camps spent together, Christmas Eves, block parties, you name it, Percy's downfall remained the same. 

Luke Castellan.

Percy has never been one to play the game of jealousy. He’s been jealous, envious so long now that he’s grown used to it. 

How long have Annabeth and Luke been dating now? Four years? Maybe five? 

They’d started dating in high school, right around the time Annabeth developed boobs, an ass that had him hiding during gym class and finally tamed her crazy blonde curls. 

The spunk that Percy had always found cute, endearing, living to wage war just to watch Annabeth outwit him, well other boys started finding it cute too. They used to think she was annoying, hanging out with the boys, her knees always dirty, her hair forced into an aggressive ponytail just so it wasn’t in her way. They didn’t look twice. Percy had always looked though, always been a little in love, even if it was hard to admit to himself. But he’d held back, unsure of her feelings towards him, because every speck of affection Percy got from her, would read into and agonize over in the dark of the night, well Luke got that tenfold. So Percy had never confessed, and the day high school had started and Annabeth had walked in, her beautiful gold ringlets hanging loose around her face, just begging to be tugged on, and wearing something other than jeans and a sweatshirt, well Percy had been screwed. 

Luke, two years older and well-versed in her affection, had snatched her right up before Percy even had a chance to think. They’ve been dating ever since, and Percy has wanted to kill him ever since. But he’s playing the long game, the game of Annabeth one day realizing she’s way too good for the asshole who ditches her every Saturday night for football practice, who won’t follow her to museums just to watch her coo over the architecture. 

So here he is, jealousy is nothing new to him, it’s his every fucking day. As if on cue, Annabeth sprints towards him from across the quad, they’d had plans to meet up for coffee after their morning classes. 

She’s waving aggressively, one hand held up to her ear as she clutches her phone and in the morning light she’s so very pretty, those gold curls taunting him, begging to be tugged at. It’s a privilege he’s not allowed, though, and one he’s never seen Luke take advantage of. Bastard. All Percy’s little ADHD brain wants to do is yank at them, run his fingers through the ringlets, they’d be so soft, would his hand get caught? How would they feel? As she appears in front of him, he resists the urge to reach his hand out and touch them. 

That would be weird… super weird and not worth the consequences. 

Annabeth arrives in a flurry of movement, her hand on his arm for a quick squeeze and a bright smile while she finishes up her phone conversation. 

“I’ll see you later, baby.” Percy wants to throw up, as he hears the response on the other end of the line, Luke’s rich timbre and Annabeth’s subsequent happy little sigh. Ugh. 

She turns to him as she hangs up, “Seaweed brain, what are you up to?” Resisting the urge to throw up his breakfast, that’s what. 

He plasters on a smile, allowing her to link their arms as she drags him towards the popular campus coffee shop, “I just finished class and I desperately need caffeine.” Annabeth grins, leaning into him, and is it any wonder he’s in love with her? When she’s doing stuff like this? 

Physical affection is so deeply ingrained in their relationship that it would be weird if he called it out now, but god, is it sweet, sweet torture. 

Her chest is locked tight against his arm and as usual, Percy has to recite the alphabet backwards to avoid thinking about Annabeth’s very impressive assets.

She has nice boobs and Luke is a lucky man, but sometimes he really wishes Annabeth were just a little more aware of the fact that he is a hot-blooded male and the urge to look doesn’t just go away because they’re besties. 

He very much wants to look… and feel, especially because she’s wearing a disturbingly low cut shirt and they look absolutely fantastic today. No! Bad Percy! No impure thoughts! 

He tunes back into the conversation when Annabeth smacks him, her brows furrowed, “Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” No, he’s been having an existential crisis over her tits, obviously. 

Percy shrugs and she smacks his arm again. This time, Percy tries valiantly to keep his eyes on her face and his ears in the conversation. They’re in the coffee shop now, that much he’s noticed. “Sorry,” Percy jokes, “I told you I need caffeine.”

Annabeth sighs before dragging him up to the register, “Get him the largest cold brew coffee you’ve got please, and I’ll have a Grande pumpkin spice.” Without another word, Percy pulls out his wallet, and before she can protest too much, he hip checks her out of the way. 

The cashier is looking at him in amusement as Percy taps his card against the machine, “Spunky one you’ve got there.” “Don't remind me,” Percy groans, and he can practically feel the little blonde heathen’s gaze drilling bullets into his head, and sure enough as he turns, she’s glowering at him from the pickup counter. She hates when he pays for things, it infuriates her in a way that has Percy paying for stuff just to see the look on her face. She’s so fucking cute. 

She gives him the silent treatment for a cool minute and a half before she reluctantly starts talking again, “You’re such a dick.” “I’m sorry I didn’t realize paying for your coffee was such an asshole move, I’ll be sure to let all the other men know.” 

“You never let me pay.” “And I never will, accept it, wise girl.” She continues to fume as their coffee orders are called out, cheeks puffed up, and grey eyes stormy, “I’ll get you back one of these days.” He hands her the pumpkin spice latte she’d ordered smugly, “I’d like to see you try.” And that, that scene right there, is how Rachel Elizabeth Dare enters the picture: disastrously. 

She’s coming in to pick up an online order, pumpkin spice judging from the cup, just like Annabeth.

As soon as she spots him, her eyes light up, just like they have every time since that first political science course. “Percy!” Percy for the second time today, feels like he could throw up his breakfast, especially when Annabeth’s keen grey eyes lock onto Rachel like a heat sinking fucking missile. 

It actually feels wrong that her eyes aren’t glowing, and the whole coffee shop isn’t erupting into a mass explosion, Percy would almost actually prefer it. 

“Rachel,” Percy greets awkwardly, teeth gnashed into some semblance of a smile. 

This isn’t something Percy had ever wanted to occur. 

Because side chicks, from Percy’s deeply rudimentary understanding of the player mentality, are not in fact supposed to meet the main chick.

And Annabeth, despite having a long-term boyfriend, is 100% the main chick. 

He awaits death. 

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here, I’m just between my art courses right now, next is nude modeling,” Rachel winks, “You still sure you don’t want to volunteer.” Percy curses Rachel’s normally endearing confidence, because there is no possible way Annabeth can misconstrue this.

No possible way he can misconstrue this to Annabeth. 

Percy laughs awkwardly, feeling Annabeth fidget beside him, her fingers drumming against her coffee cup, her lips pursed tight in displeasure. Shit, shit, shit, he has to get out of this situation and quickly. “I’ll pass, but umm we actually really have to go, so I’ll see you later–” “Tonight,” Rachel presses him, “Tonight, you said you were free Wednesday nights right?” “Yes.” Damn him and his pre-planning, damn all the stupid ADHD strategies and coping mechanisms has mother has drilled into him! 

“Tonight then,” Rachel grins before turning her gaze to the very furious blonde next to him, he can practically feel her vibrating. Annabeth does not like being left out of the loop, and seeing as how Percy hasn’t even introduced her yet, she is probably at an all-time level of furious. “This is umm Annabeth, my best friend,” Percy trips over his words, struggling to introduce her fast enough and even still, his infuriated blonde does not look impressed. 

Rachel on the other hand absolutely beams at the introduction, probably thrilled to finally meet his infamous best friend, “Percy has told me so much about you, great to meet you.” “You as well,” Annabeth replies primly, her hand held out for a shake, “I’m so sorry I don’t think Percy has mentioned you before.”

Rachel chuckles, “I’m Rachel, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Percy and I are,” She pauses for a moment and the pause is truly damning, a secretive little smile on her lips, “Friends.” The way she says the word has Annabeth’s smiling, all teeth, murderous. “Of course,” His perky little blonde replies sweetly, like nothing is wrong, like she isn’t going to tear into him in a moment, “You’ll have to excuse us though Rachel, I need him for something.” “Bye,” Rachel hums happily, “I’ll see you later Percy.” Percy knows that he is doomed. 

Annabeth is in shock.

It has to be shock, there’s no other feeling it could be.

Because Percy, her best friend, golden retriever boy, gets…bitches? 

Annabeth genuinely doesn’t know what to say, she has to sit down on a park bench just to let it sink in.

Percy is looking her over worryingly, lip bitten between his teeth and a gentle hand on her arm, and when the hell did his hands get so big?

Too many things are changing, and Annabeth doesn’t like it at all.

Percy sits down next to her, awkwardly handing her coffee over, he’d taken it when he’d realized the fall risk was high.

“Was that umm your girlfriend or something?”

Percy scratches the back of his head nervously, “Or something.”

“Percy Jackson, you tell me right now or so help me god—”

He swallows nervously, those pretty green eyes of his darting away, avoiding her gaze, “We have a thing.” “What do you mean a thing?” 

“We hang out sometimes.” “Percy,” Annabeth huffs, losing her patience, “What do you mean?” His eyes dart back to her, and he grumbles, “Do I have to spell it out?” “You’re sleeping with her?”

“Surprise,” Percy mutters awkwardly, “I’m not a virgin anymore.” Annabeth has no idea what to do with this information.

Her mind, the one asset she can always count on, constantly in motion, fixing, planning, calculating and yet now, it is blank. 

An entire system reboot. It’s not like she thought Percy would remain a sexless virgin forever, he’s a boy after all, and to Annabeth’s immense chagrin her best friend is hot, really hot, actually. When they walk around campus together, other girls look on in jealousy in a way she’s only used to with Luke.  

So mentally, somewhere deep in the depths of her mind, she knew it would happen at some point. Annabeth just didn’t think she’d have to be confronted with it quite so obviously, or quite so soon. 

“Congratulations,” Annabeth forces out, eye twitching a little because she doesn’t really know what this means for their friendship. 

For as long as she can remember it’s always been Annabeth, Percy and Grover. And then, as high school started and Grover switched schools, it became Annabeth and Luke… And Percy.  

He’s never had a girlfriend before, and admittedly, Annabeth had been avoiding the possibility of it like the plague. 

But… it’s fine. It’ll all be fine. She has Luke and now maybe Percy will have this Rachel girl, and everything will be just fine. 

Fine. Is it cognitive dissonance? Absolutely, 100 % Annabeth meets the psychological definition she’d been studying in her textbook to a fucking T. Will she admit it? Absolutely not. 

So, she plasters on a smile, and turns to Percy, shoulder checking him playfully, “Glad you finally got some, I was starting to think you were a lost cause Jackson.” 

A small smile creeps up his lips, unsure, nervous, “Just a late bloomer Chase, what can I say?” 

Percy had reservations about the idea of Rachel and Annabeth meeting, it was everything he never wanted, worlds colliding, all of that. And yet, what is probably worse than the meeting itself, more awkward than her quizzing him about his relationship with Rachel, is probably her complete and utter indifference on the subject afterwards. She doesn’t bring it up again, doesn’t even acknowledge it, simply goes about her day and very pointedly avoids making any plans with him for any subsequent Wednesday nights. Percy doesn’t really know how to feel about it. 

Objectively, he knows Annabeth is in love with Luke, has been since she was a little girl. He can still remember their first meeting, how unimpressed she’d looked even as a ten-year-old, her nose turned up at Luke’s replacement. She’d turned pointedly to Grover and said very simply, “I miss Luke,” before heading off towards her house. Percy grew up with the knowledge that no matter what, he would always be inferior in Annabeth’s eyes, that he would never quite measure up to the handsome blonde boy that stole her heart with a crooked smile and eyes bluer than the sky. 

But still, Percy had kind of expected some… Kind of reaction from her upon meeting his first ever fling/situationship, whatever the kids are calling it these days. 

She’d barely reacted, and simply went on with her day, and she hasn’t asked him about it since. 

Percy watches her, sipping thoughtfully at his soft drink and then, as if compelled by some larger force, he kicks her shin lightly. 

Annabeth looks up from her homework to glare at him menacingly, “Percy, I’m trying to concentrate.” “Yeah, but I’m taking a break and if I take a break that means you have to take a break.” 

She looks up at him again, a scowl on her face, but she can’t hold it for long, her lips twitching up before she hits him. 

“You’re so annoying.” But she closes her book anyway and Percy smiles, his hand reaching for hers across the table, a compulsion he just can’t break. 

He steals her pen instead of lacing their fingers like he wants to, lets his touch linger just a little longer than is strictly appropriate, traces the line of her knuckles as he goes and shit her hands are so soft, beautiful. 

Annabeth has always had pretty hands, soft, dainty and made to draw, to ink the designs of large buildings, coliseums, plot out structures larger than life. 

He can’t help that he wants to touch them, who wouldn’t want to touch greatness? Her eyes are soft as she looks him over, heather grey, and fuck he hates it when she’s like this, soft for him, pretty, loving. It gives him hope, hope he’s not allowed to have. 

It makes him want things he shouldn’t want, makes him bolder than he should be. 

Percy decides self sabotage is the best way to fight her off, when in doubt, always best for him to stick his foot in his mouth. 

It’s one of his greatest strengths if he does say so himself. 

“How are things with Luke?” At this, Annabeth’s previously sweet countenance evaporates, her lips pursing up in irritation, all that cute sleepy contentedness going right out the window, just like his chance of a relaxing afternoon. 

“Busy, football season, you know,” Annabeth replies curtly, snatching her hand away from his to grab another pen that she almost immediately begins clicking in irritation. Got to love the ADHD rage kicking in. 

She doesn’t say much else, just glowers murderously at the nearest bookshelf, her pen clicking out death threats in Morse code. Percy has been best friends with Annabeth since they were ten, he knows exactly which buttons to press to get her to open up, she’s like an open book to him now. “C’mon Wise Girl, give me more than that, what’s going on?” “I don’t know,” She huffs, and blissfully the clicking stops, only for Annabeth to begin drawing angry scratch marks along her notes, enraged pink lines, “He’s barely talking to me, says he has practice all the time I don’t know what to do. I’m worried there’s another girl.” 

At this, Percy genuinely gawks at her, dropping his hand to the desk in affront, “Annabeth c’mon, there’s no way.” It kills Percy in the worst kind of way to defend Luke, but it’s also just the honest truth. 

Luke might be a shitty boyfriend most of the time, but he knows for sure the blonde really does care for Annabeth, even if privately Percy thinks they’ve both outgrown the relationship.

Luke cares for Annabeth in the way he always texts Percy when she has an exam, or tells him to look after her when they go out. Luke cares, but always from afar, and Percy is always left with the actual gruntwork, the boyfriendly duties the blonde should very much be fulfilling. Percy has no problem with this of course, he’d do it without Luke asking because Annabeth is his best friend, and he loves her, he’d always look after her. 

But Percy is also uniquely aware of the fact that he is a glorified boyfriend, but without the benefits. Example A: He’s in the library on a Tuesday night, sharing takeout and studying for an exam he doesn’t have tomorrow all so he can walk Annabeth home from the library. And who is she going to go home to? To their shared off-campus apartment, to canoodle and spend the rest of her night with? Fucking Luke Castellan. 

And yet, here he is, comforting her about him. As if on cue a text chimes through and Annabeth’s face lights up as she reads it, “Maybe I’m being too hard on him though, he just said he grabbed pizza for us.” “We just grabbed burgers,” Percy volunteers blandly and Annabeth barely looks up from her phone as she shoves her greasy brown paper bag towards him, “Here have mine, you need the protein anyway, don’t you have a swim meet next week?” He’d be flattered that she remembered if she actually looked up from her phone. 

After a minute she finally looks up, lip bitten between her teeth in that tell-tale look, the one that screams guilt, that she’s going to ditch him in precisely 0.2 seconds for her boyfriend. “Percy I’m really sorry do you think I can–” “Go,” Percy tells her, and it’s painless this time as she gets up, giving him a brief hug before she leaves, “You’re the best.” He’s left only moderately dejected in the library with food for two and studying he doesn’t need to do.

University is lonelier than he thought it would be, Percy thinks errantly, grabbing a curly fry from Annabeth’s bag. 

Then he calls up Rachel Elizabeth Dare. 

Might as well make it worth it. 

Objectively, Annabeth doesn’t mean to ignore Grover’s calls. His… thirty missed calls. 

Her phone rings again in her hand, interrupting her studying for about the tenth time in the last few minutes, and finally, she brings the phone to her ear, “Hello.” “Annabeth,” Grover sounds shocked that she actually picked up, and she truly has to wonder if the calls are for a good reason. “Yes, it’s me, the person you’ve called about forty times now,” She responds dryly, and she can imagine his wince on the other side of the phone. “Yeah sorry about that, I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Percy.” Percy. Annabeth frowns as she recounts the last time she saw him, their library study date last Tuesday, a week ago now, the one she’d had to cut short. 

Huh, weird, she really hasn’t seen him this week. 

“No,” Annabeth responds tentatively as she pulls up her and Percy’s text conversation on her computer, eyebrows knitted together as she goes over their many messages. 

“He seems fine, though we’ve been talking all week, said he aced his Ancient Greek quiz because I drilled architecture into his brain,” Annabeth boasts smugly as she rereads over their conversation, a smile coming to her lips. Seaweed Brain is killing college after all, she thinks fondly. Grover says nothing in her ear and the frown is back on her face, “What’s wrong? Has he not been responding to you or something? Did you two get into a fight?” 

It would be quite atypical if they had, it’s usually her and Percy who end up fighting over stupid shit. 

Grover hums on the other end of the line nervously, “We’re not fighting per se, it’s just I haven’t really been able to get a hold of him recently, and I thought maybe you were taking up all his time, that would make sense, but evidently not.”

“What do you mean ‘that would make sense’,” Annabeth imitates Grover’s gruff baritone with a scoff, “We’re not attached at the hip, we don’t spend all of our time together. I have a boyfriend, you know.” “I’m very aware,” Grover snarks back, a note of resentment to his tone, and Annabeth grabs her coffee so she doesn’t explode at him. 

Grover has never exactly been a fan of her and Luke dating, and he’s never really gotten over it. He can suck eggs though. 

“Percy is probably fine, I don’t know what you’re so worried about, he’s nineteen, not five, he’s probably just busy with swim practice, other friends you know the works.”

Annabeth tries her very best not to think of Rachel Elizabeth Dare as she lists all the things her best friend could be out doing, knowing that the redhead could be exactly what he’s out doing right now. 

“That's what I’m worried about,” Grover mumbles over the other end of the line and Annabeth sighs, “If you really want I’ll go check on him.” “Umm,” Grover sounds unsure now and Annabeth sighs in irritation, “Grover pick a struggle here, are you worried or not?” “Fine, fine, don’t worry about him, I’ll just keep trying to call.” “No,” Annabeth asserts, “You called me forty times, I’m gonna go over to his apartment and see how he’s doing.” 

“It was not forty Annabeth! And no, I don’t think that’s a good idea Percy is umm obviously busy with something, I’ll just wait until he resurfaces. It’s fine.” Annabeth reluctantly agrees before hanging up the phone, telling her very neurotic friend to cool his jets, preaching about the art of calmness. And then she spends the next twenty minutes glaring at her calculus homework. Because Grover might sort of be right, she hasn’t seen Percy in exactly a week, and despite talking over text he’s made absolutely zero move to see her. It’s very un-Percy like of him. It’s weird. 

She doesn’t like it at all. So, because she can’t concentrate on anything else, she packs up her stuff and trudges towards Percy’s apartment with purpose. What the hell is her best friend up to?

Percy, Annabeth finds out is studying. 

But not alone. No, to Annabeth’s immense horror she finds her best friend in the coffee shop on the first floor of his apartment building, a favourite haunt of his. He’s snacking on a scone and staring at his political science textbook like it holds the answers to all the questions of the universe, and next to him, smiling secretively with every glance up, is a girl. A very beautiful girl. 

A girl that is far too pretty to be sitting in this dingy little coffee shop with her best friend. She’s the kind of girl that you see on Pinterest, the girl everyone else wants to be, hair perfectly coiffed, falling in silky chocolate caramel waves down her back, like the most delicious caramel macchiato Annabeth has ever seen. 

Her eyes are a dark chocolate colour, framed by thick full lashes and everything about her is so striking that Annabeth has the undeniable urge to take her phone out and snap a picture, because she simply cannot be real. 

She smiles again, a hand darting out to pinch Percy’s arm, and he looks up at her with a smile of his own, one Annabeth realizes dully that she has missed over the past week without him. 

Shit. 

For the second time, Annabeth’s brain struggles to reboot, and she can almost hear the Windows XP startup sound in her head as her brain begins to compute the image in front of her. The conclusion she comes to is not one that she likes, not at all. 

Percy, her very innocent, very wholesome, loving best friend, might just possibly be… a player?

A whore? Is that the right word? Annabeth genuinely doesn’t know. 

Percy laughs at something the girl says, leaning in, and she watches with laser focus as he touches her arm, how comfortably he does so, how he doesn’t move his hand right away. The next thing she knows, said hand is wrapped around the girl’s waist and he’s leaning in to help her with something, close, so close, way too fucking close. 

Annabeth is left utterly confounded as she witnesses her best friend smoothly flirt with this beautiful girl, not an ounce of hesitation in him. He’s absolutely brimming with confidence, mouth at her ear, whispering things to her, cheeky jokes and an endless amount of reasons to touch her.

What do they say about change? That it’s good? That it brings innovation, all that jazz? 

After all where were modern architecture be without the change brought on by mother, Zaha Hadid? What about the differences between the ancient Greeks, the Romans, the aqueducts? 

So change is supposed to be good, that is well established, and hadn’t she been thrilled when she and Luke finally started dating, the best change to mark the rest of their lives together. 

But as she looks at Percy, changing right in front of her eyes, all she feels is cold dread. 

Her thoughts are insidious, selfish and worse than Percy deserves when he’s always so good to her. But all Annebth can think is that he shouldn’t be touching this girl so familiarly, shouldn’t be stealing sips of her coffee, shouldn’t be doing any of these things with anyone except her. 

Inexplicably, Annabeth finds herself grabbing her phone, typing in a number she knows by heart, etched into her fingertips, and before she can stop herself she’s dialing. She can’t help it as the tone rings in her ear, she just, she needs the reassurance, the knowledge that she’s still the most important no matter how selfish it may be. 

It takes two rings, and Annabeth watches with bated breath as Percy and the beautiful girl next to him both glance at his phone curiously. 

Will he answer it? She can pinpoint the exact moment he realizes it’s her because he’s snatching his phone like it’s about to burst into flame, giving the girl an apologetic smile before he’s standing up and walking away and then–

His voice is in her ear, a little out of sorts, but it’s the deep baritone she loves, raspy as he tries to keep himself quiet, “Hey.” Annabeth practically melts, her entire mood shifting, calm now with his attention, “Hey.” Percy chuckles on the other end of the line, and Annabeth watches as he heads towards the exit of the cafe, looking for somewhere quiet. Shit. She stumbles, hiding herself behind a nearby pillar and thanking the gods for structural building supports. 

“What’s up?” Percy asks and Annabeth allows her guilt to catch up with her finally because what the fuck is she doing? How needy is she? She’s calling him while he’s on a date? How very unhinged and very un-Annabeth of her, it’s actually ridiculous. “Umm,” She struggles, “Not much, just missed you.” This is evidently the wrong thing to say because she can hear his breath hitch, can feel how his smile has probably lit up like the sun, “Of course you did, I’m great I’d miss me too.” Before she can help it, she’s quipping right back, “I’ve changed my mind I don’t miss you anymore, you’re too smug already, you don’t need the attention.” “Wait–” He’s chuckling in her ear, “I do I need all the attention now tell me what’s up Annabeth?” Damn him!

“Umm not much, I just thought we could hang out later if you weren’t busy.” 

Annabeth glances around her pillar to see Percy lingering near the outside of the cafe, leaned up against his own pillar, she catches just enough of a glimpse to see him frown. 

“I’m a bit busy tonight,” Percy tells her evasively, “How about tomorrow?” Annabeth bites her lip, “I’m not sure if I can do tomorrow, yet I’ll let you know, I have a weird group project.” Percy laughs, “With the guy from your interactive arts and media class? The one who’s always wearing suspenders?” Annabeth groans, “Yes, that one.” “Good luck with that Wise Girl.” “Thanks Seaweed Brain I’ll need it.” “Okay well I’ll let you go then,” Percy tells her and Annabeth hums into the phone line, about to say her goodbyes, only vaguely comforted by the call. Because sure he’d picked up, but he hadn’t dropped everything for her. And shit is she going to become that girl best friend. Please gods no, she has to get it together. Just before they hang up though Percy gets one last line in, one last little sentence to melt her heart. “Hey Annabeth?” “Yeah?” “I missed you too.” And then he hangs up, and Annabeth watches her best friend walk back towards his date with another girl with the biggest smile on his face she’s ever seen. It hurts because she doesn’t know which girl the smile is for. 

[tsarisfanfiction]

Truth Comes Out of His Well (Chapter 1)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Lee Fletcher, Kronos, Apollo, Apollo Cabin (and many more) Lee Fletcher had a secret. Luke knew it, and anything Luke knew, Kronos knew. This had consequences, which started with Lee not meeting his end at the business end of a giant's club after all. Finally it's time to reveal this fic! Welcome to the start of a 200k word long, Lee Fletcher Lives, longfic, written by me and podficced by the amazing @Stereden! Updates will be weekly. We have had so much fun working on this story together, and hope you enjoy it, too! Listen to chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter 1

When Lee opened his eyes, everything felt like a dream.  He wasn’t quite sure what did, whether it was the past two years, or his current situation, but Luke Castellan was sitting next to him, lips quirked into a lopsided smirk so familiar it hurt, and despite everything, Lee missed his friend.

Leaning back against something, quite possibly the trunk of a tree, mind slightly hazy in that way a lazy day could spark with the older boy next to him felt like a dream come true, like Luke hadn’t tried to kill Percy, torment Chris, or any of the other horrors now associated with the son of Hermes.  Lee hoped it was, hoped he’d finally woken up from the thralls of a nightmare that had been haunting him for too long.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Luke teased, and Lee lazily rolled his head to one side, still a bit drowsy, to give him a mock scowl, before something started to niggle at him as not right.

Lee didn’t sleep during the day, but Luke hadn’t been lying when he called it morning.  There was no sunlight, though.  No warmth of his father’s chariot beaming down on him.  Behind his back was cool stone, not firm yet supple bark, and torchlight danced around them.  Lee couldn’t move, either, his head free to turn but the rest of his body stuck in position and making the skin of his neck tug as he tried to better face Luke.

Luke, whose voice had been a little too deep, too rough for the older boy Lee knew.  Whose eyes weren’t blue, the way they always had been, but a searing, molten gold that hurt to look at.  Whose smirk wasn’t light-hearted or friendly, but cruel as torchlight sent harsh flickering shadows over the scar on his face.

His dawning horror must have shown on his face, because Luke laughed, a horrible, grating sound that mocked him, found humour at his own expense.  Luke never laughed like that, never found someone else’s horror a source of amusement.

This wasn’t Luke.

Not-Luke reached out and ruffled his hair in a mockery of how Luke used to do it when they were younger, when he was the big brother of the camp that brought everyone into his orbit, even Lee.  Lee had loved Luke, trusted him and found comfort in his steady presence and quick wit.

Lee tried to pull away, but his body didn’t have enough autonomy to escape the pseudo-brotherly gesture, too sluggish even if his mind was waking quickly.

“Quick on the uptake,” Not-Luke noted, the facsimile of Luke’s voice sounding almost approving, beneath the sheer amusement that permeated from every pore of Lee’s current, unwanted, companion.  “But that was only to be expected, of course.”  He took his hand back, leaning back against the hard wall and almost slipping out of Lee’s periphery.  Lee had to force his head around to keep him in view, and was able to catch the movement as he lazily made his way to his feet.  “He hid you from me, you know,” Not-Luke continued, and while his voice was light there was something darker behind it.  “What you can do.”

Lee went cold, could feel the hairs on his arms standing up on end as a shiver ran down his spine.  Not-Luke paced around until he was standing in front of him, and Lee looked up, meeting the molten golden eyes staring out of Luke’s face.  Despite their colour, there was no warmth to them at all.

“The living lie detector,” Not-Luke breathed, words enough of a murmur that even surrounded by rocks, in what could well be a cavern – Lee’s brain was gaining enough clarity again to start trying to think, but it wasn’t thinking anything helpful, or nice, right then – there was no echo.  No-one else to hear the words.  “He told me a lot about camp, about the campers he knew, but he neglected to mention that little detail, the foolish boy.  It could have been… inconvenient.”

Not-Luke said inconvenient with weight and intention, as though it was both an understatement yet also exactly what he meant.

“People might have died, if certain lies were caught, you see,” he continued, but it was like he was talking about the weather, not people’s lives.  Light-hearted, a minor inconvenience like clouds blocking out the sun for a few hours in the afternoon.  “A failed spy is no use to anyone, wouldn’t you agree?”

The pause was expectant, as though Lee was expected to reply, but his brain was still a little too foggy, his tongue too sluggish to form words.  He didn’t want to, anyway.  Not-Luke was a monster, wearing his former friend’s face, and Lee was doing his best to keep the realisation from clicking into place, because he knew, somewhere inside him, who Not-Luke was, and what it meant.

He knew, but he refused to acknowledge it, because acknowledging it meant-

No.

His silence didn’t seem to bother Not-Luke, though, as the expectant pause passed in silence before he started to talk again.

“But no matter,” he said.  “I discovered everything he was keeping from me in time, so no harm done.”  Luke’s lopsided smirk was back again, except its aura was nothing but evil.  If Lee could move, he would’ve shied away from it, but his body was too restrained to so much as flinch.  “In fact, this has turned out even better than I could have expected.”  Not-Luke crouched down fluidly in front of him.  “You’re mine, now.”

Something in the words, in the realisation, helped his body break through the fog and he recoiled back as far as he could go, fighting against his body to make it move.

Metal clanked and something chafed against his wrists, digging in sharply as he tugged frantically.

Not-Luke didn’t even try to stop him, watching him with the eyes of a monster, the eyes of a predator, a lazy smirk crossing his face.  “If you want to injure yourself, be my guest,” he said, leaning back in a smooth laze that was so much Luke that it hurt.  “I don’t need your body to be intact.”

It was the callousness of it all that got to Lee, the disinterest in causing pain, and the disinclination to stop pain, either.  There were other things, too, things that he didn’t want to be thinking about, and the growing pain in his wrists was a great distraction to stop the thoughts from swirling and forming.

Not-Luke made no effort to stop him, waiting patiently as Lee’s still-groggy body drained of energy until struggling against the metal that kept him in place was beyond him.

He was either drugged or concussed, Lee belatedly realised, his sluggish brain finally putting together pieces.  He didn’t know how he’d ended up here, in a stone cavern with metal binding him in place and Not-Luke looking at him with all the self-assuredness of someone who knew they were going to get their way in the end and were content to sit and wait until things fell into their lap, but it was getting pretty obvious that it hadn’t been his choice, and that his freedom wasn’t making itself known any time soon.

As the last of Lee’s energy drained away, leaving him sagging in the harsh restraints, Not-Luke leaned forwards and gripped his shoulder tightly.  “You’re mine now, Lee Fletcher,” he said, Lee’s name falling from his lips like oil.  “You and your ability to detect lies.”

Lee stiffened.  No.   He wasn’t some tool to use.  He’d kept his ability secret for several reasons, and one of them was this.  People who knew what he could do used him as a gauge, even if they didn’t mean to.  Ever since he’d found out, Michael glanced over at him when he wasn’t sure who to trust, and Lee would never begrudge his younger brother the security of knowledge, but it was different, with him.  He didn’t view Lee as a lie detector first and a person second.

Someone like this was far, far worse.

“Go to Tartarus,” he rasped.

“He speaks!” Not-Luke exclaimed sarcastically.  It was almost a Luke-like reaction, if the voice wasn’t wrong.  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten how.”

Lee’s spine prickled with the sense of a lie, although he thought he probably would have been able to pick that lie out even without his ability.

Not-Luke’s mouth twisted even further, and his eyes burned.  “And no, I won’t,” he said, voice suddenly dark and dangerous, and forcibly stripping away all of Lee’s forceful delusions and not thinking about its.  “After all, I’ve only just got out of there.”  The hand tightened on Lee’s shoulder, fingertips digging in forcefully enough that he wondered if his clavicle was about to snap under the pressure.  “And I don’t plan on ever going back.  Luke thought you were a smart boy, Lee.  You know who I am.”

Inhuman eyes locked with his, out of place in Luke’s face as the gold flickered in ways closer to fire than anything a human’s eyes could ever do, and there was something profoundly unnatural about the way Luke’s lips twisted, contorting the scar into shapes Lee had never seen it make before.  There was nothing soft about the expression, just as painful and cruel as the thumb digging into the vulnerable skin above his clavicle as impatience settled in.

“Don’t you.”

Lee didn’t want to reply, didn’t want to say it because if he did then it would be real, but the grip on his shoulder was relentless and even if he was wanted alive, he didn’t have to be in one piece to recognise a lie, and he knew he wasn’t the only one aware of that right then.

Talking, moving his jaw, still felt like a Herculean task with his tired muscles and his brain fog, but Lee didn’t have a choice so he persevered and forced the name out, trying to ignore the fact that his eyes felt damp and that something warm was crawling down his cheekbone.

“Kronos,” he mumbled awkwardly, feeling the weight of not just the name but the acknowledgement of what it meant, that Kronos looked like Luke, why Kronos looked like Luke.  “You’re Kronos.”

The grip on his shoulder vanished suddenly, and his head sagged forwards, immediately focusing on his legs instead of his companion, but he couldn’t block his ears.

“Clever boy,” Kronos praised.  “That’s right; it’s me.”

Movement in Lee’s periphery had his head snapping across to look at it on instinct, but it was only Kronos in Luke’s body standing up, dusting himself off as though the cavern they were in was dirty – it was, of course it was, and with one realisation forced into existence, the others were falling into place like the world’s worst game of dominoes.

“I’ll let you get settled in,” Kronos said, and in some situations those words would be kind, but they weren’t here, never here.  Kronos didn’t know kind.  “We’ll resume our acquaintance later, once you’ve had time to think.”  He split Luke’s face into another grin, one with too many teeth to be friendly.  “I look forwards to getting to know you, Lee.”

Restrained, and still with the faint strains of fog in his head even though it felt like that should have been long blown away by the crumbling realisations, Lee couldn’t do anything except watch him walk away, through an open doorway.

He didn’t even bother to shut it behind him.

Lee’s breathing picked up, choking a little on the silent tears that had finished making their way down his face and instead fallen into his mouth when he hadn’t been paying attention.  He was trapped.  The open door taunted him cruelly, but he still couldn’t move, and even if he could…

Kronos was out there, and Lee had no chance against a titan, or even Luke’s swordsmanship, if Luke was still in there, too.  Lee couldn’t tell if he was; his body moved like Luke’s, but that could just be muscle memory, and Kronos had spoken about him in past tense.

He’d only told one lie, the stupid, sarcastic one.  Everything else he’d said had been categorically, awfully, true.

Gods, Lee was so, so screwed.

He hadn’t known Kronos took prisoners.  None of them had even considered it, not even Chiron.  Demigods disappeared but it wasn’t a secret that most of them had either idolised Luke or had their own grudges against the gods.  Their betrayals made sense even if they hurt.  The others that had disappeared, who hadn’t been known grudge-holders or devout followers of Luke, had all been summer campers that simply hadn’t come back.

They’d all assumed they’d either decided to quit camp and the brewing war, or been killed.  It wasn’t that unusual.

But what if Lee wasn’t the only prisoner?  What if some of those disappearances had been kidnappings?  What if Kronos had been picking them up, one by one, when they were alone and vulnerable?  Lee didn’t think any of them had stood out for something they could do, but then, he could count on the fingers of one hand how many people still at camp knew about his truth-sensing, and two of them were Chiron and Mr D.

He wasn’t a summer camper, though.  In fact, Lee couldn’t remember the last time he’d left camp.  The last time he’d gone shopping, he supposed, but that hadn’t been recent.  They’d all got more paranoid about leaving camp since last summer, when the barriers around camp had fallen and they had spent the entire time defending their own borders.

They’d still been defending them this time, and the foggy haze in his mind shifted a little bit more as he remembered the attack.

The Labyrinth.  Chris, insensate and hurting.  Clarisse, trying so hard to still pretend she was fine despite the new, ugly and knotted scars under her clothes, where Lee had done his best to keep her alive.  Percy and Annabeth and Tyson and Grover, and the son of Poseidon crashing his own funeral after they’d finally given up hope that he’d somehow survived.

The frantic, panicked warning that the armies were coming now .  That they had to get their defences up and ready for battle because it was real, now.  No more hypothetical what-ifs, wondering if Luke – oh gods, Luke – was going to lead an army into the heart of their camp.  The army had been coming and Lee had been there with the other head counsellors, organising everyone and doing his best to keep his siblings out of the way as though there was any such thing as out of the way in battle.

There wasn’t in capture the flag, and this was going to be worse than capture the flag, because the monsters would be aiming to kill, and-

Lee remembered the battle starting, remembered sending Michael into the trees with their youngest siblings, to keep them as safe as he possibly could.  He didn’t remember anything else.

Gods.

He must have been snatched, somehow, during the battle.  He wasn’t injured, outside of the foggy head, so it was probably near the start.  Dragged into the Labyrinth, away from camp, and into this place.  This cell, even if the door was open.

Lee tried to wrench himself free again, but chains clinked and held him tight.  It finally occurred to him to look , and see how he was secured, although it probably wouldn’t make a difference.  Lee wasn’t a Hermes kid, nor an escape artist in general.  He was a musician, an archer, a healer.

A human lie detector.

None of those would get him out of chains.

Still, he looked, and immediately wished he hadn’t, because there was suspecting he couldn’t get out and then there was knowing it.

Thick, iron manacles clamped around his wrists, but they were embedded in the stone walls that surrounded him so he couldn’t even budge them from the awkward way they were pinned.  Matching cuffs clamped his ankles, trussed together and then secured by longer chains back to the wall again.  He’d lost his shoes, and his socks, too, and it belatedly occurred to Lee that they were cool, against the stone floor.

Then he realised he wasn’t wearing his clothes.

He wasn’t naked, thank the gods, but the pants he could see weren’t his, and when he looked down at his chest, the familiar orange of a camp t-shirt had been replaced with a purple one.

And his camp necklace was gone.

Chapter 2>>