#like naturally at first i was thinking of apollo for him but i feel like the apollo vibe just isnt there for him
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recently i've been a little obsessed with the character designs in dislyte and naturally i've been thinking of the winx in it and like,,, helia blessed by morrigan... dudes.....
#i already have a design in mind for him to... oh no.... the brain rot.....#i just think that him being connected to war and nature and peace and life and poems and death andandand#like naturally at first i was thinking of apollo for him but i feel like the apollo vibe just isnt there for him#and obviously helios is another given for him but again i just feel like the vibe isnt there#while his name means sun.. he just isnt a 'sun' character yknow?#so i started thinking of gods that have bird symbols since helia does have some bird motifs#and like... the morrigan is just such a vibe for him like it Fits its perfect its literally him frfr#i dont play the game or know any of the lore so i dont know if this would work but tbh i also dont care like dude the Vibe#i dont know if people usually think of the morrigan as one goddess or as the three goddesses so im thinking#of adding like three crows around him in the design? i feel like thatd be a decent nod to the trio?
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take a chance with me . luke castellan x reader
you decide to confront luke about your current situationship with him.
luke castellan x f!reader , reader is the daughter of Athena , crack , misunderstandings , “what are we” , “i thought we’re already dating” , fluff with slight angst , overthinking , kisses , them being sappy , nicknames
note : can’t stop falling in love with this evil betrayer smh. inspired by niki’s song “take a chance with me” ! (IM SORRY IF THIS IS CRINGE this is my first time writing kiss scenes help 😭😭😭😭)
let me know your thoughts ! likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3
“It’s getting dark. Let me walk you back to your cabin, yeah?” The dark haired boy smiled at you.
Gods how you loved that smile of his.
It’s a tradition of yours. Him walking you back to your cabin after your outings. The two of you walk hand in hand as your near the Athena cabin.
You and Luke had been acquainted for quite some time. You both first met when you arrived in camp for the first time.
You were fifteen back then. Time passed by as fast Zeus’ lightning strikes as summers blurred after summers. In a blink of an eye, you guys were both eighteen now. Adults, no longer those carefree teenagers that relied on your counselors.
During those three years of friendship, you and Luke only got closer. It was hard to admit, and after an excruciating time of denial (and constant pestering from your half siblings including Annabeth), you finally surrendered and admitted the growing feelings you harbored for your close friend.
You’re too afraid to confess your feelings as you treasured your friendship with him deeply. You would gush about how sweet he is to Annabeth, rolling yourself on your bed as blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of him.
Little did you know he was doing the exact same thing. Confiding to Annabeth about your recent encounters, eyes lit up rivaling the shine of Apollo himself as he thinks of you.
Poor girl. Annabeth was sick of it.
But this summer, you felt a shift in your dynamic with the curly haired boy. He would eat lunch with you more often, asking you to go on more hangouts, challenged you on more duels, battles. It felt different, closer.
You were not complaining, matter of fact you were quite glad. Maybe your feelings wasn’t just one sided after all.
But as time move forwards, the closer you two get, more couple-ey interaction commends. He would tuck your hand behind your ear as you both converse, intwining your hands when your in the same path, calling you nicknames.
The more your relationship with him progressed, the more it blurred the line between friends and more. At this point, you knew he had feelings for you as well, and he too was well aware of yours.
A bubble of thought soon started clouding your mind. What were you both now? Friends? Close friends? Lovers? You don’t remember Luke asking you to be his girlfriend.
What was the nature this relationship?
You feel his grip on yours loosening as you stopped near the grey building of Cabin 6. “This is it for you, princess.”
Words rolled of his tongue like honey and you felt like a honeybee, drawn to its sweetness.
Friends don’t call each other nicknames.
Luke placed a gentle hand on your cheek, drawing closer has he placed his lips on your temple, as if he was kissing your thoughts away. “What’s got you thinking so hard since we started walking, hm?”
Your cheeks lit up like campfire at his action, he smiled noticing your flushed state.
Cute
You look up to the curly haired boy, his fingers still pressed on your cheek. What are we, Luke?
What if Luke suddenly doesn’t want you anymore because of that question?
Were you too selfish by wanting more?
Was this not enough for you?
No it wasn’t. You want to draw a clear like between friends and more, and Luke and you were shoveling a deep hole in the middle of said line.
What if he fears commitment and disappears?
“Oh no, it’s nothing Luke.” You shook your head away from his grasp, pushing all your thoughts away. “It’s late, I should probably get in.”
But before you can turn away from him, Luke was quick to grab your hand, not letting you go any further. “No, Yn. Something is clearly bothering you. And I don’t want you to go to bed with an unpleasant feeling.”
He squeezed your held hands. “Please, Yn. Is it something I’ve done?”
You were quick to deny him. “It’s not, Luke. I don’t even know it’s just. I don’t know, confusing? I think complicated is the right word.”
The dark haired boy brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing your forearm softly. “It’s okay take your time, darling. I’m listening.”
You sighed seeing him caress your hand gently as he brushed his lips on the skin. “It’s about us, Luke.”
Dark hues make contact with your own. “What about us?”
“What are we Luke? I don’t even know anymore.” You retracted your hand from his grasp, frustration getting a hold on you. “Friends don’t hold hands while they walk, friends don’t kiss each other’s foreheads, or hands, or even call each other nicknames.”
You look up to see the confusion written clearly on his face. “What are we, Luke Castellan?” You asked once more.
There was a moment of silent and you dreaded it. Each passing second you can hear the rustling wind, chirps of birds, and the sound of your heart falling into your stomach.
Before he finally broke it. A wholehearted chuckle graced his lips, creasing his eyes.
You scrunched your eyebrows at his reaction. Clearly displeased. Were you some joke to him?
“Luke, this is serious, why are you laughing right now?”
He quickly straightened his composure after hearing your tone. “Ehem, wait sorry. You’re serious? Is this what you’ve been worrying about?”
“Well yeah. What’s so funny about it? Am I just some joke to you?”
“No no! Yn, wait.” He placed both of his hand above your shoulders. Eyes peered at yours before genuinely asking. “Haven’t we been dating for like two months now?”
What? Confusion warps your face.
“Yn, remember? Two months ago when I took you on a picnic by the lake? I asked if you wanted to be together and you agreed to it, remember?” He tried to recall your memory.
Then it snapped.
“Oh, that was a confession? I thought you meant it in a friendly way.” Luke mentally face palmed himself and you sheepishly giggled.
“Okay maybe I was too vague with my words so let’s redo it right now yeah?” You tilted your head at him.
The dark haired boy took both of your hands from your sides, lacing them into his. “Yn L/n, daughter of Athena, one of the best warriors I’ve ever seen, wisest and the most just ever, will you take the pleasure of being my girlfriend?”
You unwind your laced fingers, your hands moving, circling themselves around the nape of his neck as his hands are now placed on the sides your waist, drawing you closer. “Hm will I?” You teased him lightly.
“Please?”
“I guess you got yourself a girlfriend, Castellan.”
You laughed against his chest. And you can feel his ribcage expanding was he laughed along with you.
You tilt your head above, standing on the tips of your toes, as you pulled him even closer than before. Your noses touch at the proximity and you could feel his breath on yours. “Is this why you’ve never kissed me before?” you hear him whisper.
“Well I am doing it right now.” You pull him in, his lips crashing with your own. His grip on your waist tightened as your hands made its way to the softness of his curls. Eyes tightly shut as you both bask in the bliss of ecstasy before pulling apart.
He leaned his forehead against yours. Giving your lip a small peck as he craves for more of you. “I don’t know if this is not obvious yet but I like you, so so much, my Yn.”
You softly giggled. “I like you just as much, my prince.”
©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#luke castellan x you#pjo x reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson x you#percy jackson#pjo tv show#pjo series#luke x reader
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Will makes a couple more trips to the Underworld after Tartarus. Nico gets to show him his room and they have dinner with his father, who Will is sure is glaring at him for the majority of the dinner until he realizes that's really just his face. Will turns 17 one week later.
Apollo laughs when Hades comes to him and asks for a favor. Not out of malice, more out of the absurdity of the situation. Even with Apollo's many children, none of theirs have ever paired up before. They're from different worlds, he supposes. While opposites may attract, love doesn't follow the same rules as a magnet. Hades' children tend to be loners by nature, it just comes with the territory of having death be your realm: it scares people.
It especially scares those who work so hard to try and prevent it, those who don't wish to think too closely about the bloodier targets their arrows land upon, those musicians and poets who work so hard to claw their way up from the pits of grief and to the pillars of fame, to become legends who escape the erasure of death.
Despite all that, their sons work.
Apollo knows this, he spent plenty of time marvelling at how Nico and Will just fit together, as cute and excited as new lovers and as deeply intertwined as any pair of soulmates hes witnessed over his eternity.
To know Hades sees it too, though? He has to laugh. It's so confusing and so obvious. More than anything, its out of character. Hades treasures his family more than most other gods. He loves his wife and rarely strays from her, and the demigod children he does sire he sees and cares for. Making a connection with a demigod that is not one of his own is new, though. He genuinely likes Will.
Nico is trying to do it, trying to be the child of his who is happy, and Will is helping him every step of the way. He's kind, understanding, every bit as fucking weird and off beat as Nico, anxious, still young and stupid. Flawed, but good.
Hades wants Will to be with Nico wherever his son goes. Nico will always venture back into the second home below he loves so much, the one that is a part of him he wishes so badly to share with Will and Will learns every day to love more.
On the morning of his 17th birthday, Will finds a box on the doorstep of Cabin 7, addressed to him. Inside is a small golden pendant, shaped into an open half of a pomegranate with tiny silver seeds. The note next to it only reads: For William Andrew Solace, with no clue of who it's from other than that the whole ensemble smells of the fire and brimstone of the Underworld. Nico hasn't been down there lately, so he assumes it's a joking gift from Persephone. 'Better like these if you're gonna be with my stepson,' maybe. It's beautiful, though. He attaches it to his necklace and laughs with Nico when he sees it, and carries on with his day. Apollo visits him for the celebrations and smiles at the pendant, but he doesn't say anything more.
The next time he visits the Underworld he feels...better. Fine, actually. He assumes he must be getting used to the place. When he eats dinner with Nico and his family that night, he thanks Persephone for her gift, holding the pendant on his chain over his shirt for the first time since he's arrived. She looks confused before she smirks and turns towards her husband, who calmly sips his wine.
"You're clearly going to be here for quite a while, I thought it would be helpful. Your father assisted."
Nico's eyes widen, and Will notices for the first time the odd warmth of the pendant. It's just a bit more intense than the rest of the chain and Nico's skull ring, more than it could be warmed from his skin. It feels like sunshine.
"Your father assisted."
He does not feel tired. He feels in the Underworld exactly as he would above ground; he doesn't have to keep his visits limited to a couple of hours. He can be with Nico in his home without distinctly feeling like he wasn't meant for it, even with all of the love he holds for his boyfriend.
He could not have a more tacit approval from Hades.
More than that, it's a pomegranate. he is wearing on his neck a symbol that he is of the Underworld by virtue of his partner. Gods, a wedding ring might be less symbolically binding. Persephone speaks again.
"Should we start calling you Prince-Consort?"
Nico and Will blush right down to the roots of their hair.
#pjo hoo toa#solangelo#nico di angelo#will solace#hades pjo#persephone pjo#tsats#the sun and the star#riordanverse#mini fic#hoo fandom
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nature feels spencer reid

| spencer reid x fem!reader
| hello! my first post on tumblr. inspired by frank oceans song nature feels. but also like… kind of not. idunno!! minors please dni (18+)
| content warning: religious references, munch!spencer (😁) worship?!, making out, alludes to pinv.
Spencer Reid was an endlessly curious man. It generally didn’t matter what the subject was, he already knew about, and could be classified as an expert in the field.
He like to think of himself as a specialist in all things mathematics, chemistry, engineering, and you. At times like these, that last one became more of a weakness than a strength.
Sitting on the plane home, returning from an exhausting case, hearing the bass line from Derek’s headphones and the muffled sounds of Rossi and Hotch discussing something that could be anywhere from the case to his latest interaction with wife number nth, Spencer Reid couldn’t stop thinking about sleeping with you. You hid in the buzz of the engine, the smell of coffee leaking out of the jet’s small kitchen, taking him to the four walls of your shared apartment, where the smell was omnipresent.
Many people might compare you to a warm summers day, but he found that misrepresentative. You were much more comparable to a snowy christmas evening. It’s the time of year that everyone looks forward to, cookies and cakes and freshly cooked meals, things that were constantly filling your kitchen, love leaking from their extra chocolate chips. All year round, when christmas music plays, people are filled with joy and cheer, and he thinks this phenomenon is not unlike to that of your sounds, and when his memory so unhelpfully brings those to the forefront of his mind, he is filled with that same joy.
The familiar bump of the jets landing cut this train of thought, and as the team filed back to quantico, Spencer had never been more grateful for two things:
1. the fbi’s access to efficient travel - he thinks that if he was forced to sit in the metro waiting, the personification of himeros that was sitting eagerly in his heart ( and other parts of him that he was careful not to pay attention to at this time ) would grab him by the shoulders and force him under the need that he was drowning in.
2. the invention of internet and online communication - the influx of texts from that had ceased to deliver while he was in the sky all flooded in at once, giving him the idea that this missing business was not one sided.
| spence, hope you’re ok :( penny told me that case was tough. cant wait to see you
| I have missed you so much. cant stop thinking about you. text me when you land, love.
| come find me when you get home, doctor ;) i have a surprise for you!
It was in moments like these, when people showed even the slightest romantic fondness for him, that he was taken back to his bumbling college experiences with sex. A word that people danced around, but he researched thoroughly. Not for perverse reasons, as this form of interest in the female anatomy would hit him a bit later in life, but pure curiosity. Why did people enjoy? He could understand what the appeal was for men, but what made the experience enjoyable for the other sex?
These questions still plagued him to this day, even after extensive practical elements were added to his studies, with you being a very supportive test subject. Spencer explored what it was like to feel, and to find meaning through this thing that had become so, even though it sounds silly to say, sexualised in media, and to move past the physical elements (but he still appreciated those, greatly) and to find what philosophers spent eons theorising over, which the two of you seemed to have found so easily. Connection.
In the many nights he had spent tangled in your embrace, Spencer mused thoughts of the origins of humans, and as the quiet hymns of the night sung, he worshipped Apollo for having mercy on the split humans and reconstituting their forms, allowing them to find this physical bond, and their souls other half.
As the elevator at quantico rose to the BAU’s floor, the team had a quiet understanding amongst them that small talk was not necessary, and that conversations of weekend plans were trivial in comparison to the things the victims had been through.
After finishing up the, for lack of better words, ginormous pile of paperwork, Spencer was finally free to follow the light of your twin flame home. As he sits in the metro though, he is brought back to the disdain he holds for the public transportation system, and the distain for every passenger that gets of on a stop before his, slowing his journey. He wishes that access to the fbi’s vehicles was available off the clock, for boyfriends whose need for their girlfriends was eating them alive. How inconsiderate of them.
When the autonomic voice announced the station where you resided, so close yet so far, Spencer jumped out of his seat, himeros once again took control of his body, willing his muscles all the way home.
As the loved in door to your home creaked open, Spencer was guided by the candlelight and warm lamps through to the back garden, where the leaves and flowers of the cherry trees spread through the garden fall gracefully and surround a figure, who is gently swing back and forth on a tree swing. Spencer sees you, and wonders what if this is what Adam thought when he first saw Eve, and if he too felt so compelled to caress the slopes of her neck and pray at her divine altar.
The leaves under Spencer’s converse crunched, and alerted you to his presence. As you turned around, there was barely a split second before Spencer was on you, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck with his arms planted firmly around your waist.
“hi spence”, you whispered quietly into his hair, the glasses on the bridge of his nose digging into the skin of your neck. he began to plant soft kisses there, to exhausted to formulate a response. You nudged his chin with your shoulder, and his lips landed softly on yours, gentle kisses explaining things that words do no justice to.
As the night air became more humid around you, and fireflies surrounded the two of you, Spencer’s warm hands pushed the ankle length hem of your spring dress up your thighs, closer to your core. He kisses a pathway up your calf, up your thigh, towards the need in your centre, and ponders if god had made you for him.
Spencer thinks that he is fairly devoted to a number of things, like his work, or his academia, but the way he eats you out is oh so blasphemous. He circles and flicks and plunges just right, and as the cherry flowers fall in his hair, he looks like a debauched angel, with a sole mission of making you come on his tongue. he is devoted to it, and it’s his mission.
The way that you moan his name and pulse around his fingers turns him on more than things that are seen as generally sexually conductive for the male gender, and as you pull his roots and tighten your thighs around his head, he feels the satisfaction of your pleasure travel all the way to his climax, without being touched. Truly sinful Spencer Reid, truly Sinful.
As his mouth separates from your divinity, he thinks that the string of saliva that connects you is symbolic of every single thing that connects your physical elements to the emotional unison that you share. As the dirt digs into Spencer’s knees, and the thighs around his head loosen with satisfaction, He can’t help but compare you to the delicate cherry blossoms, and he sees your kindness and ineffable gentleness bloom around the garden.
You stand, and pull Spencer to his feet, and as he pushes you against the bark of the cherry tree, ready to connect again, just as Apollo and Adam and Eve and whoever else he had to thank for this intended, he can’t wait to feel your nature, to make love.
a/n thank you for reading!!! i know it’s rough, but yet i persevered and finished it. yay me 😛.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal minds
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BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖
🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x reader
a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗
wc: 1.1k
—
It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.
Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).
It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.
He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!
You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.
“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”
“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him?
Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.
Wrong.
Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.
Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you.
He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.
You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.
“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”
Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.
“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.
“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.
“I….like it when you do.”
You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.
You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite.
For once they were wrong about love.
Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.
#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆。°✩#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan fanfic#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#made by ma1dita ♥︎
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TWST Boys Godly Parents if they were in PJO/HOO | Heartsabyul & Savanaclaw
A/N: Hello lovelies!! I've been gone forever and I'm sorry for that but I have been caught up with life so I never truly had to the time to sit here and write. I hope you guys had a happy holidays and I hope to post more for you guys this year!! <3
!! I WILL BE IGNORING THEIR SPECIAL MAGIC !!
Smart, Rule Abiding, and Responsible so I'm going to have to say cabin 6, Athena. His Intelligence is quiet by the book tho. Besides he has grey eyes and mommy issues; now what if his mommy issues were linked to the fact he never actually had his mother acknowledge him or his existence. This urge for parental validation would cause him to try and become top of his class and be a great leader WHILE following the rules set in place, it'd be him screaming to his mother to pay attention to him without saying a thing. And now I'm thinking his mom, not Athena, would treat him the way she does because she knows that while she's with Riddle's dad some part of him still loves his mom, Athena, and the only reason they aren't together is because she left him with Riddle, that's what he told her, and yes this implies she knows Riddle's a demigod. This would cause Riddle's mom, step-mom in this head canon, to have some sort of disdain for Riddle because he's a constant reminder of his mother.
Ngl I kinda struggled thinking about this but I settled on cabin 4, Demeter. This might also affect why he's so good at baking. Something about Trey's nature just gives me cabin 4 vibes but an alternate choice could be, Considering he is a child of Demeter is probably good at gardening but based on his in-game personality/abilities and Godly parent he could probably cook very well. While in the mythos Demeter isn't much of
I was thinking about him, and came to the conslusion of cabin 7, Apollo. He's charming, talented, and just, what appears, to be a ball of sunshine. His musical talent and bright energy really just gives off cabin seven vibes to me. Ngl though I was also debating cabin 10, Aphrodite, but i ended up going with cabin seven because I feel like it just works.
Cabin 11, Hermes. This is the correct answer. I can't imagine any other answer besides Cabin 11. He's a sneaky little trickster and he gets it from his father, Hermes in this case. I think it just works and the only other cabin I could somewhat see where he'd fit is cabin 20, Hecate because of all the little card tricks but otherwise I'm going with cabin 11.
Cabin 16, Nemesis; now HEAR ME OUT!!! Nemesis isn't just the goddess of vengeance but also JUSTICE. Deuce has a clear sense and loyalty to justice. He fights for the right thing all the time and very clearly believes that everyone needs to right their wrongs. He himself after his rebellious phase in middle school, does his best to make up for it by being the best student to make his mom proud(this can be taken as either Nemesis OR/AND ms.Spade). I'd like to believe that when Ms.Spade was with Deuce's dad, he cheated on her with Nemesis and they had Deuce who Nemesis leaves with Deuce's dad who doesn't want to take care of a kid so he leaves Deuce with Ms.Spade to raise all on her lonesome.
I have three main cabins I could assign him to: Cabin 6, Athena or Cabin 5, Ares. Both these cabins work with his competitve spirit BUT the thing with Leona is, is that he's quite smart and strategic. If you look at him in book 2, he uses his wits to win. Although he's using them to cheat, he's still using his smarts to get a one up on someone. I think it just suits his character to a tee. The interesting thing though with him being in cabin 5 is that it feeds into his nature of being overshadowed. Ares in the mythos is seen as less than Athena because she's smarter and wins more wars than he does which bears a similar weight to Leona being overshadowed by Farena because Farena's the first born. While you can make a strong claim for both of these cabins, I'm leaning more towards cabin 6.
I think everyone knows I'm going to say cabin 11, Hermes, but it just makes logical sense. As a son of Hermes he can use trickery and schemes to get what he needs to provide for himself and his loved ones. Growing up poor would of course force him to adapt so I think that it's perfectly logical that he would be a son of Hermes. It fits his character super well in my opinion. Although there could also be an arguement made for Cabin 7, Apollo, I'm going with cabin 11.
I'm stuck between cabin 4, Demeter, and cabin 17, Nike. Now for cabin 4 it's for his connection to nature and mere vibes. For cabin 17, it's for his competitive spirit and his attitude toward competition and want to win fairly. So I think I'm going to go with cabin 17 because it better matches his core values and attitude.
A/N: Hi lovies!!! I'm back!! Ik I like never post but I've had this in my drafts for over a year now and I finally got back to it because frankly I love this idea. I also have pt 2 to 'A Quick Trip to the Alter' but that that have to wait a bit but if you guys REALLY want it, I'll do my best to get to work. If you have any request my inbox is always open!! All my love to you guys and let's hope I have the motivation and time to post soon <3
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#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#fluff#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#pjo
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Why demigods have certain powers: a theory (long post)
I have this theory that the reason demigods have specific strengths, or display one aspect of their parents powers over others is due in large part to what aspect their godly parent visited their mortal parent in AND how their mortal parent perceived them. TLDR at the end. Idk if this is a common theory, but I’ve never seen it written out before.
Half of this is pretty much so canon, in the way we know that Greek vs Roman demigods are different because they aren’t the same exact gods. The best example of this is Nico vs Hazel, where Nico is a child of Hades, who is the god if the Dead where Hazel is a child of Pluto, the god of the Underworld and Wealth. This affects their powers. We will come back to them.
However, we also know that demigods don’t necessarily inherit all of their parents dominions. For example, Will, Kayla, and Austin are all children of Apollo, but each have very different specialties. Will has power over healing and light, Kayla over archery, and Austin over music. Apollo is god of all three, but they all have very defined areas of interest and talent.
I think what powers come to a demigod naturally will be determined by their mortal parent, not their godly parent. The best example of this is Hazel.
Marie Levesque very specifically summoned Pluto because he was a god of wealth. It’s how she perceived him, not as a god of the underworld, the dead, or shadows, but as a god if riches and jewels. This explains why Hazel’s abilities are focused on riches. (I’m aware Pluto grants Marie a wish, and that part of that is that Hazels jewels are all cursed. However. Even after they stop being cursed (kind of) at the end of SoN she doesn’t lose the ability to summon them. SHE is the gift Pluto granted Marie, not the gems themselves) This doesn’t mean that she can’t access other abilities associated with children of Pluto/Hades, as is obvious in HoH when she assists Nico in shadow traveling everyone out of the House of Hades, or that the dead don’t sense her as a child of the Underworld and defer to her, like the Leres at CJ, but that isn’t how her powers naturally manifest.
Sticking with Hades, Nico (and Bianca) are a good comparison: they have (kind of) the same father as Hazel, but their abilities are very different. Looking at Maria, we don’t know too much, but I am going to assume something based on the fact that she’s from Italy in the 30s and her name is Maria: she was probably Catholic. Now, as someone who was raised Catholic, I feel qualified to say that Catholics are, while not as a whole superstitious, they are quite obsessed with death. Not in a Rapture sort of way the way some denominations are but more in a…they care A LOT about the Saints and Heaven and judgement, and because of that they’re more than willing to accept things happening because of intercession of a Saint or a dead loved one guiding them. I am not Italian in the 30s, so I can’t speak to that. But because of that, and the fact we KNOW that Maria knew the father of her children was Hades, Lord of the Dead (he offered to keep her safe in the Underworld, she knew about the prophecy, she knew Zeus wanted her dead) we can see how these things about her are reflected in her children.
Nico is known as the Ghost King, because his powers mostly manifest in his ability to summon and control the dead. He also has powers related to shadows, but he really has to practice to get good at it and not pass out. Affecting the dead is the first thing we see him do as a Hades power (dismissing the skeletons attacking Percy at the end of TC, and again all through BotL with Minos) before we ever see him shadow travel, which isn’t introduced until tLO, two books after his introduction. While Bianca’s page time is limited, the only real Hades power we see her demonstrate is when she destroys the skeleton. Maria saw Hades as the king of the dead more than any of his other powers. She obviously RECOGNIZED he had dominion over darkness and shadows (she says so when she tells him she won’t raise her children in the darkness of the Underworld) but that isn’t the part of him that she sees and values and fell in love with. She had kids with the god of the dead, so her children primarily manifest their powers over that domain. I also think that the fact she knew she was dating a god made her children more powerful, if that makes sense. Nico and Hazel are some of the most powerful demigods in the series, even apart from being big three kids.
But Mags, Mags! I hear you cry, what about kids like Annabeth? Athena kids don’t have obvious powers, how is that relevant here?
There aren’t a ton of good comparisons for Annabeth to see how her abilities compare to her siblings besides maybe Malcolm. However, I’ll do my best.
Annabeth’s power from Athena is her intellect and her cunning. Let’s look at how Athena and Fred met: Annabeth tells us that without Athena’s help, he wouldn’t have graduated his doctoral program. So when Fred met, we can assume he met Athena in her aspect of being a scholar. We know is that this is not Athena’s only mythic role, she is also a strategist and a patroness of useful crafts like weaving among other things.
I believe that Annabeth’s intellect really does manifest more as a scholar than anything else. For example, she has no formal schooling between the ages of 7 and 12, when she is at camp full time. Those are some formative years when a child creates a foundation for their future learning, and Annabeth has ADHD and dyslexia. School should not be a walk in the park for her. And yet, she doesn’t really struggle to reenter school, and she’s constantly referenced as doing essentially independent studying, whether it’s reading books in Ancient Greek or working on Daedalus’s laptop. Studying and researching is her hobby because it comes incredibly naturally to her, which matches up with how Fred would have seen Athena. And yes, we see her weave to get across the cavern in MoA, but that’s kind of a one off. Annabeth herself realizes in the moment that, “oh yeah, Athena’s the goddess of useful crafts,” like it’s never occurred to her to even attempt such a thing before. The only time we see her bring this talent back is at the beginning of BoO when Jason is stabbed (iirc - I could be wrong on this reference. I didn’t open a single book to write this essay)
Comparing that to Malcolm, we don’t know a ton about his powers or his parent. All I can recall is a single short story in which Athena sends him a dream requesting he reinstate a festival of hers, and he leads the Athena cabin in setting everything up, and I think weaves the Athena Parthenos a cool robe? Fact check me here, that’s as memory serves.
So why wouldn’t Athena ask Annabeth to do that? She’s the one who found the statue after all. I’m willing to bet it’s because whomever Malcolm’s father is, he met Athena in her aspect as a craftswoman. The skills that Malcolm inherited are primarily to do with crafting because of his mortal parent.
You can also see why some aspects of gods aren’t really seen in their children. For example, Dionysus is a god of wine but also notably mania. Of his two children we see + the one child of Bacchus we see, (Castor, Pollux, and Dakota) all three only have affinities towards the former. (There are vague allusions to the twins assisting the Demeter cabin with the strawberries because fruit bearing plants do well with them, although grapes are best, and Dakota has his kool aid addiction) but none ever display an ability to induce mania. Dionysus does, in TC when Percy Iris Messages him, but his kids don’t. Why? I’m willing to bet that less people are attracted to the manic aspect of Dionysus than the party side, especially because it requires wanting to make a baby with the guy. Not everyone, I’m sure at some point there’s been a Dionysus demigod who could, but it’s be rarer.
So what about Percy? He has like ALL his dad’s powers. Eh - kind of? Walk with me here:
We know quite a bit about Sally and Poseidons relationship, that they were together for an entire summer, that they met at Montauk, and that Sally knew she was dating the King of the Ocean. (Poseidon also offers her a palace under the sea to keep her safe from Zeus. Now he’s 2/2 on having his brothers offering to keep their lovers safe from him and thus revealing their identities to them and making their kids even more powerful)
We know that she associates Poseidon with the sea very strongly, but more so that she thinks he is powerful but GENTLE. I posit that because of that, it explains why water is healing to Percy. Zeus kids don’t get magically better when they stick a finger in an outlet. Demeter kids aren’t healed by plants. This is kind of unique to Percy and I think it’s because of Sally and Poseidon’s relationship. I would also assume that at some point, Poseidon showed her that he could communicate with sea life and horses, and those then became part of her idea of him, which is why water, equestrians, and fish are the parts of Percy’s power that comes most naturally.
You know what Poseidon’s the god of that isn’t in Percy’s primary powered? Earthquakes. He’s done it once: Mt St Helen’s in BotL and he did so while he was actively dying and the mountain was already erupting a little bit, he just made it worse. But he’s never actively tried to do so. It feels kind of like Hazels shadow travel: he probably could, with a lot of effort and maybe some help because his dad IS Poseidon, but it’s not his thing.
It’s also why he can kind of mess with ice. The only real time we see him do so is in SoN when he collapses the glacier CJ in Alaska, but for the most part, if water isn’t in its liquid form, he doesn’t really mess with it. No steam either. He probably COULD, but Sally met Poseidon by an ocean, so that’s their basis.
The poison in HoH reads similar to the earthquake. He probably could control any water based liquid but it would take more effort and he doesn’t want to. For what it’s worth, yes, Percy could blood bend, easier than he could poison bend because blood is salt water. But he won’t. Because it disturbed him.
Moving on.
Mags! That’s all well and good, but what about Thalia and Jason? Don’t they kind of disprove your theory? They have the exact same mortal parent, why do they have such different powers?
Well, for what it’s worth, they DON’T have the exact same parents. Zeus and Jupiter are not the same god. So they’re technically half siblings through Beryl. Swerve. But I see your point - if I’m suggesting that the powers one inherits from their godly parent are determined by one’s mortal parent, then Thalia and Jason should be basically the same.
Well, they are pretty similar, all things considered, but a key part of that is what there really is to inherit from their godly parent. This gets more into classical theory that I am not an expert in, but from my understanding: you can generally state that of the two, Zeus was more impulsive and wrathful and might smite you for anything, and Jupiter filled the father/king of the gods role more. And we already agreed at the bringing with Nico and Hazel that Roman and Greek gods aren’t the same.
And. When we’re looking at the relationship between Beryl and Zeus, it’s a wild starlet having a wild fling, she has no children, she parties, she’s here and there and everywhere, she can’t be tied down. And it’s implied that she knew he was a god, because being able to catch the attention of Zeus apparently made her go off the deep end when he left. And she wanted very badly to see Olympus but Zeus refused (with good reason. The reason being Hera) Thus, Thalia’s powers pick from the ones matching those traits. She’s got power over lightning, but not necessarily the sky. She probably could fly if she ever tried. And also: she doesn’t have to ask permission to call down lightning. She just does. She makes her own lightning.
Jason on the other hand, is the result of Beryl and Jupiter. The relationship was a smidge more stable. Beryl was calmer when Jupiter was around and Jupiter presented himself to her in a more…grand? aspect. It makes sense then that Jason can fly but he’s not really a lightning guy. Like. Yes. He caaaan, but pretty much so any time it counts there’s a mention that he like, petitions his dad to let him summon a bolt. But he controls the winds with ease, because Jupiter is a king, and that’s how he presented himself to Beryl.
Which brings me to a straight up theory I have about May Castellan. I think that she was either a politician or a political correspondent. Someone who was on the news a lot, someone with a sharp tongue, an excellent debtor, and an orator extraordinaire. All we know about her in canon is that she had Luke, and she was special enough to Hermes that he continued to visit her after Luke was born, and that he told her about the Oracle, and how that turned out.
Hermes is the god of a metric ton of stuff. Thieves, travelers, tricksters, merchants, athletes, gymnasiums, orators, communication, gambling, the list goes on. A lot of his kids are described as speedy: their mortal parents probably caught his eye due to being athletes. We know Luke to be very charismatic and the best swordsman the camp had seen in years. I think that indicates that May attracted Hermes as someone with a sharp wit, who could verbally spar anyone into submission (unless she was legit into swordplay) and she caught peoples attention and could convince them of anything. It also explains why she’d have been so insistent on becoming Oracle, besides being clear sighted. If she was an elected official or a media correspondent, it would suggest an interest in conveying messages, and being the voice for others, like being the voice of Delphi.
But Mags, that’s all well and good but Will’s mom is a musician. Why is his only gift on that front that horrible dog whistle?
Eh…? This one is tricky, however, it might be that she attracted Apollo because of her music, but he attracted her because he exudes warmth and light, thus her child gained healing and light powers and not music. It’s a weaker explanation. Sorry.
There is one other very notable exception to this theory, and I do have an answer to that. Leo’s fire ability had very little to do with Esperanza, and everything to do with the prophecy.
I think that Leo was fated to have power over fire, as the fire in “to storm or fire the world must fall.” That being said, I don’t think Leo’s crafting skills were fated. Those I feel were passed down from Hephaestus through Esperanza’s association with engineering and crafting with him, but the fire wasn’t. The fates wove that power in.
TLDR: Which powers a demigod inherits from their godly parent isn’t random, it’s determined by how their mortal parent perceived the god and their domains.
#Percy Jackson#pjo#pjo hoo toa#pjo theory#hazel levesque#nico di angelo#annabeth chase#malcolm pace#thalia grace#jason grace#may castellan#sally jackson#frederick chase#marie levesque#maria diangelo#luke castellan#beryl grace#will solace#naomi solace#leo valdez#esperanza valdez
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laughter and smiles ᢉ𐭩
how the hoo boys make you smile (characters: percy , leo , jason , and frank )



a/n- it’s been a while since i read the books. don’t judge too hard.
when you’re having a rough day, percy is the first to notice. while most of the time he’s an oblivious bum, the slightest hint of a frown doesn’t go unnoticed by percy. instead of immediately prying, he’s sneaking of to the beach to prepare a cheesy date. rose petals will be scattered in a heart, with candles galore and a cozy blanket laid perfectly so you can cuddle and watch the sunset together. it looks like something straight out of a rom-com, and you couldn’t be happier. even though he sacrificed his dessert to the demeter children for the roses and promised to leave the apollo kids alone for the candles, it’s worth it to see your sickeningly sweet smile.
when you’re dating leo, there isn’t a moment you aren’t laughing till your stomach hurts. he’s always cracking a joke to make you smile, no matter how serious the situation is. you could be full on crying, and between his comforting words he’ll slip in a lighthearted quip that makes you giggle between sobs. if he isn’t throwing jokes around, he’s making you little trinkets out of scrap metal as gifts. flowers, hearts, and even a mini-festus sit on your nightstand, proudly displayed. they’re a reminder of how much your totally awesome boyfriend cares about you, so naturally, seeing them makes you smile.
jason is extremely good with kids, specifically your relatives. there’s a lot of things about him that make you smile, like his silly glasses or how much he cares, but nothing tops how he acts around kids. it started when you asked him to babysit a little demigod at camp, since you were busy and the baby was too young to be by themselves. when you came back, you saw him asleep in a rocking chair, the kid wrapped up in his arms, also snoozing. you weren’t hesitant to ask him to watch the child again a week later. when you returned this time, jason’s large frame was stuffed into tiny chair, sitting next to them. he had a pink feather boa around his neck, and was sipping out of a teeny tea cup, while the little girl did the same. the sight of his tall and masculine figure dressed elegantly in pink definitely made you grin ear to ear.
frank absolutely adores buying you endless amounts of stuffed animals. elephants, seals, weasels, and countless other creatures sit pretty on your sheets. he likes to surprise you with them, too. you’re having a bad day? boom. new manatee stuffed animal laying on your bed for when you go to sleep. he traveled outside of camp recently? boom. awesome new fluffy souvenir. they all sleep on the bed too, obviously. can’t have one feeling left out. frank loves the way your eyes light up and you start thinking of names the moment he gives you one.
#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez x you#leo valdez drabble#leo valdez#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo hoo toa#pjo fandom#pjo fanfic#heroes of olympus#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#jason grace#jason grace pjo#leo valdez imagine#leo valdez pjo#jason grace x reader#jason grace x you#jason grace x y/n#drabble#pjo imagine#frank zhang#frank zhang x reader#frank zhang x you
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I Need to know what the other siblings think of dory!! To they have beef with him like axiandros or to they just not care for him?
I need to know the yan opinion on dory especially hades!! To they like him bcs he is basically Percy 2.0 or they hate him for being Poseidon son?
BEELCY babies! I need to see how the other beelcy babies look like!
P.s. you are an ✨AMAZING WRITER ✨ your writing is chefs kiss✨
axiandros: he has the most intense beef with eudorios ever and the funniest part is that it's ONE-SIDED 😭😭😭 dory does not give a shit, he's too busy being smothered by his mother's affections to even notice his eldest bro silently seething in a dark corner LMAO 😭 just seeing dory ruins his day. he hates the way dory looks, acts, smells, BREATHES. dory could literally be walking down the hall and goes "morning, ax! 😄" and axiandros would mutter "disgusting, deplorable piece of shit 😠🔱" and poor dory's like:
"what'd i do????? 🥺" 😭😭😭😭
kymon: mildly irritated. there are very few places he likes to be in and that's either his bedroom or by his mother's side cuz that's where he's most at peace, but in comes fucking DORY again whining and whimpering for mother to pay attention to him 🙄 he rolls his eyes and shows the barest hint of annoyance whenever he sees dory ambling towards them and is already teleporting away because he knows his presence beside their mother only makes dory more annoying and he does not want to deal with that 💀
thalassandros: "can you fuck off, you little shit???????" no seriously, dory spent HOURS with their mother yesterday, it's his turn now, this is SO unfair ugh 😒 he would absolutely hit dory and tell him to screw off, only to get scolded by their mother but he doesn't actually mind cuz you know... mother doesn't actually BEAT THEM unlike a certain asshole (looking at you, bitch (poseidon) 🖕) plus, mom's paying attention to him now, so a win is a win lmao.
as for the yans......
hades actually adores eudorios! mainly because, in his eyes, eudorios is the sweetest of the posy kids. he's so much like percy and is NOTHING like poseidon. ofc, he has no idea that dory is actually completely insane, but oh well! 💀
beelzebub does not like eudorios. he literally gets the tingle every time that kid is around, and he KNOWS that dory's more evil than he looks. he may act all sweet and uwu like percy, but he knows the kid's actually super fucked up inside. tries to warn percy to be more careful, but she loves her son too much to abandon him or let beel get rid of him
loki is another one who knows the kid's unhinged LMAO 😂😂 literally took one good look at him and immediately sensed the insanity asdgvajdf lowkey entertained by percy's naivety but also hopes this doesn't end TOO badly
anubis likes dory a lot! eudorios is his favorite amongst the posy kids cuz he's just sooo nice and friendly! he reminds him so much of his beloved mate 💖💖💖 (reminder: gods don't have souls so anubis can't tell the type of person dory actually is 💀)
cú chulainn is..... somewhat okay with eudorios. he acknowledges that dory is definitely the nicest out of all of the posy kids, but he just can't help but feel that something's..... off with him, but he just can't put his finger on it. he keeps a close eye on him whenever he's around, but other than that, treats him decently
apollo considers dory his favorite amongst the posy kids just like many of the yans do lmao. he's just a sweet kid, what's not to like? he's always nice to him and his children whenever he's around. sure he's a little clingy towards percy, but she's his mom so it's only natural!!!
poseidon is THIS close 🤏 to bashing eudorios' head open. he has no idea where he and percy went wrong with him. he's infuriating and an embarrassment in poseidon's eyes (which is ironic considering he's literally like PERCY who poseidon absolutely adores 💀)
beelcy and poki babies are coming!!! dw. poki babies are mostly ready so they'll come first
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i can’t find the words
1492 words
the infirmary is silent, save for the raspy breathing of its only inhabitant. it took a long while for him to ignore the pain enough to drift off, but I doubt his dreams are being particularly kind to him; getting tortured does that to a guy. apollo left after he was certain he had done all he could, and is currently resting. if you think harming a god like that takes a lot of power, healing a god tends to take twice that much —you can’t pour from an empty oinochoe, as they say, and if poseidon's sorry state is anything to go by, he'll be needed again pretty soon.
okay this one is pretty much entirely based on @neal-illustrator's famtheon hkfdj this is also partly inspired by luke Sobbing in the live-streamed watchthrough of the ithica saga songs
have some zeus & poseidon hurt/comfort 👍 a part 2 to this!
cw: mentions of torture and injury!
the infirmary is silent, save for the raspy breathing of its only inhabitant. it took a long while for him to ignore the pain enough to drift off, but I doubt his dreams are being particularly kind to him; getting tortured does that to a guy. apollo left after he was certain he had done all he could, and is currently resting. if you think harming a god like that takes a lot of power, healing a god tends to take twice that much —you can’t pour from an empty oinochoe, as they say, and if poseidon's sorry state is anything to go by, he'll be needed again pretty soon.
of course, all of olympus has heard the news—courtesy of hermes, to no one's surprise—and yet even the trickster god himself has not set foot in the healing chambers. if you ask me (and really, who else is there to ask?), they’re all rather frightened. not of poseidon himself, or the injuries, but of what the two combined represent: if the god of the ocean, all-powerful and second strongest deity in all the land, can be taken down by a mere mortal.. what does that say for the rest of them?
no one other than I actually dare to voice this sentiment, but it hangs heavy in the air near the silent infirmary. the area is usually less bustling, due to its solemn nature, but athena's brief visit after her.. little spat with zeus brought flocks of siblings and uncles and cousins to simper and sympathise and bring flowers of every kind. after all, a god wounding another is hardly an uncommon sight—and not even remotely cause for concern. now, poseidon's chamber remains empty of any signs of life other than the god himself in the bed, and smears of golden ichor on the bedsheets from what his bandages could not contain. a grim sight indeed.
although- I tell a lie. for the first time since poseidon arrived, someone other than apollo enters the chamber—uncharacteristically hesitant, almost walking back out as they feel the crushing silence in the place. the god carries an almost amusingly small flower when compared to their size, but the expression on their face erases any hilarity the situation may have created. after all, it's one thing to hear the god of the ocean was struck down by a mortal—it's another matter entirely to see your elder brother near-lifeless after being tortured with his own weapon.
the fact that his brother remains asleep is both a source of anxiety and relief for zeus. it's not news to anyone that the king of gods does not like to show weakness, let alone affection, and poseidon's lack of consciousness combined with the rest of the pantheon's aversion to the infirmary allows for him to act unobserved (of course, they are not entirely unobserved, but they are unaware of my existence, dear reader). on the other hand.. the empty look on the sleeping ocean god's face, accompanied by the ichor-stained bandages across his torso and eye brings a mortifying dread to zeus' heart that he would vehemently deny ever experiencing, even to himself.
poseidon stirs, muttering something inaudible, and zeus practically freezes in place. he makes to turn over, and immediately groans in pain, startling awake. it takes a second for him to regain his bearings, but when he does, he practically stares at zeus, visibly surprised. momentarily, the brothers gape at one another, both feeling somewhat caught out, before finally, zeus speaks.
"I- brother!" he says, making an attempt at his usual bravado and falling ever so slightly short. "I see you are- making a speedy recovery?"
blinking back sleep and lasting confusion, poseidon clears his throat- and suppresses a wince as his wounds protest. "yes, I- apollo has been doing.. good work."
"I can see." zeus tries for a confident smile. it doesn't quite reach his eyes as it typically does. "that- the colour of your skin is.. coming back, I believe."
"oh." poseidon raises a hand, glancing at the back of it. "I suppose- yes, it is." he looks back at zeus. "brother.. what are you doing here?"
zeus scoffs. "what- I cannot visit you when you are ill?" he says, hoping he sounds more flippant than he suspects he does. "am I not typically kind?"
poseidon decides not to answer the second question. "it's simply out of the ordinary for you." he says cautiously, on instinct. "besides, do you see another soul here?"
"you need rest!" zeus says, as if it was meant to be obvious. "it would be rude to interrupt-"
"zeus," poseidon says, and zeus stops in his tracks. "why are you here?"
zeus opens his mouth to say something along the lines of 'it's my duty', or 'do you think me so heartless?', but nothing of the sort comes out. in fact- nothing comes out at all, to both his and poseidon's surprise, other than a painfully quiet exhale, containing far more emotion than he ever wants to express in his life again. something shifts in poseidon's expression, as if he understood what that meant, and zeus is about to blast them both into ash when poseidon reaches a hand out.
"brother, I will be fine." he says, and it suddenly occurs to zeus that he's offering to hold his hand. without his say, zeus' eyes dart to poseidon's amputated arm, something seizing in his chest in a way that has not occurred in centuries. "if kro-"
"I know." zeus says before poseidon can continue, like he can dispel the realisations from the two of them if he just talks loud enough. "you shall make a full recovery. apollo is an excellent healer- he is my son, of course."
"yes." poseidon says, dropping his hand. zeus can’t help but feel as if he’s lost something. "but I will not let that mortal wipe me off this earth." he says, with a bite of malice in his words that suggest he’s being a little more truthful than he probably should be. "I will not give him the satisfaction." he looks at zeus. "just as I did not give our grandfather the satisfaction. I have dealt with worse."
"must you-" zeus starts with the intention of criticising his brother, when his voice fails him as it has never done before. "must you say that?"
poseidon gives a little smile. "brother, it has been millennia. you cannot fault me-"
"you did not have to watch." zeus hates this—the way his voice betrays him, the sympathy in poseidon's eyes, the memories his injuries bring to the surface of his mind. hating it does not make it disappear, no matter how much he wished it would. "both times- I had to watch. I cannot- I will not let you leave once again."
poseidon raises his hand, and this time zeus does not hesitate in taking it, desperately trying to convince himself it is for poseidon's comfort, rather than his own. "I have no intentions of leaving. you are king of the gods."
"in which case, I order you to remain." zeus says, and he feels just as he did all those years ago—playing make believe with his brother, imagining what life would be like if they were on top. "you cannot disobey a royal order."
"I would not dare." poseidon says in that mock solemn voice zeus remembers all too well. he finds that his throat is suddenly tight at the memory. "the all-powerful zeus could strike me down if he so wish-"
zeus decides not to remember what he does next. he does not recall how he ended up with his arms around his brother, nor does he recall blaming the dampness on his face on poseidon's hair. he most certainly has no memory of the way poseidon's embrace felt so painfully similar to how it used to, and it'd be impossible to say if his brother muttered comforting words into zeus' hair as he once did.
poseidon remembers, though. the gentleness that was so clearly out of zeus' nature as he did his best to avoid upsetting his tender wounds, the familiarity of his brother in arms mixed with how bizarre it felt to be equal in size after centuries of memories of his baby brother. he remembers feeling silently grateful for zeus' sobs masking his own, for odysseus—somehow—landing them both in this situation, and he certainly will not forget the whispered 'I think I missed this,' for a thousand lifetimes.
#epic the musical#epic zeus#epic poseidon#famtheon#don’t ask me who the narrator is idk#I was trying something out GKDDJ#also like. I wrote this all in like 6 hours#it's 4:26am which is not ideal but MAN i am on a roll with this writing stuff#hi epic fandom i’m aroace and could not care less about how attractive the characters are and put arguably too much thought into Lore#do I need more tags I don’t know#i’m used to mcyt and that has like a million tags for one character so this is new for me#platonic!!!!! very much platonic and familial ty#wren writes#I wrote half of this whilst listening to I can’t help but wonder and will you fall in love with me again on loop#so liek#also like I said. it's 4am so if it's a bit weird blame it on that
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Amongst Demigods
Flirting With Fate
f1 x reader
or... the one where there are five ways to steal a heart
word count : 999
warning : suggestive jokes, english is not my first language!!!
check masterlist for more parts of this series!!



🏛️🏎️
weeks had passed since you’ve first stepped foot in camp half-blood, and you were starting to feel more settled.
you weren’t sure when it happened, but the chaos of the hermes cabin, the intensity of training, and the never-ending questions about your godly parent had become… normal. what you didn’t expect was the new kind of chaos - one involving a certain group of demigods who seemed to always be around.
——————
lando was the first. you weren’t sure how it happened, but the two of you had started spending a lot of time together. it started innocently enough: races by the lake, where he always insisted he was faster because of his sea legs, which you told him wasn’t a thing.
“come on, admit it,” he’d say, grinning as he caught up to you after another race, “you just like the view.”
you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed that smile. “sure, the view of you eating my dust.”
“oh, dust is it now? I was more thinking of you checking out-“
“shut up, lando.”
he’d laugh, but it was never mean-spirited. you’d end up sitting by the water afterward, legs dangling into the cool lake, talking about everything from your messed-up childhoods to how he still couldn’t swim properly, despite being the son of poseidon. you weren’t really sure what you were, but lando had a way of pulling you in, making you forget everything else.
——————
then, there was charles. sweet, golden, frustratingly perfect charles. he was a natural charmer, but not in the way you’d expect from a son of apollo. he’d always find you after archery practice, usually while you were nursing another terrible shot.
“need help?” he’d ask, leaning against the target, his bow slung lazily over his shoulder.
“if I say yes, will you stop being so smug about it?” you quipped, though you always accepted his help.
he’d stand close behind you, his hands gently guiding yours, his breath warm against your ear as he gave tips.
“just relax, focus on the target, and let go when you feel it’s right.”
you’d let go, but the arrow almost never hit the target.
“I think you’re distracting me,” you muttered one day after yet another failed shot.
“maybe I am,” he replied, a playful smirk on his lips.
you laughed it off, but it was hard to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever charles was around. he had a way of looking at you, like you were the only person in camp, even when you were surrounded by people.
——————
oscar was different. quiet, thoughtful, but somehow always knowing exactly what to say when you were feeling overwhelmed. you’d started to catch him watching you during lessons, his eyes following you with a sort of quiet curiosity.
“what?” you’d ask, after catching him staring one too many times.
“nothing, just… you’re interesting.”
“interesting how?”
he’d just smile, shrugging as if he wasn’t going to answer, but there was always something behind that smile that made you wonder what he was thinking. the two of you had started to spend more time together, mostly during strategy lessons or sparring sessions, where he was always more tactical than aggressive. it was different with oscar. where lando was playful and charles charming, oscar made you feel like he saw you, like there was something more between the lines.
——————
daniel, though - daniel was chaos. pure, unfiltered, ares-born chaos. he had a way of turning every situation into a joke, a flirtation, a game.
“you know,” he said one day, tossing you a sword during practice, “there’s something about watching you swing a sword that’s…”
“don’t even finish that sentence,” you warned, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
“what? it’s impressive! who knew you could be so… deadly?” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you almost dropped the sword from laughing too hard.
but then, daniel would catch you off guard. in between the jokes and teasing, there were moments where he’d be serious, like after a particularly hard fight when you were frustrated and ready to quit. he’d walk up, offering you a hand, his usual grin softened.
“you’ve got this,” he’d say, no jokes, no teasing. just simple, genuine support.
it was those moments that made you wonder if there was more to daniel than the laughter and flirting.
——————
and then… franco. he was the wildcard, the son of eros who always seemed to know just what to say to get under your skin - in the best way. he’d drop by during meals, sliding into the seat next to you with that infuriatingly charming smile.
“hey,” he’d say, his voice soft but with a teasing edge, “have you always been this gorgeous, or is it just today?”
“franco,” you’d groan, rolling your eyes, but he’d just laugh, leaning in a little closer.
“what? I’m just saying, the gods clearly have a favorite.”
he had a way of making you feel special, even when you didn’t want to admit it. there was something about him, something that made your heart race when he got too close, his hand brushing yours in the most casual, accidental way possible.
“you’re impossible,” you’d tell him one day, after he’d successfully distracted you from an entire lesson just by sitting too close.
“impossible to resist, maybe,” he shot back, his grin wide as ever.
“ugh, franco.”
he’d laugh, but there was a tenderness behind his playful words, a softness that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t all games after all.
——————
and so, here you were - caught in the middle of this strange, confusing, and slightly chaotic situation with lando, charles, oscar, daniel, and franco, each of them pulling you in different directions, each with their own way of making you feel something more than just a friend.
you weren’t sure how it happened, but something was definitely happening.
————————————————————————————
© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.
@briefkittenearthquake @colpenter
a/n : wrote this during three five minute drives and lunch where I didn’t eat nothing bc fuck tummy ache🫶🏻
#folkwhoreberry#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russell x reader#kimi antonelli x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#max verstappen x reader#ollie bearman x reader#yuki tsunoda x reader#alex albon x reader#franco colapinto x reader#lance stroll x reader#x reader#f1/pjo!au⭐️
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Phoenix's careful wording in 4-1
I noticed something about 4-1, Turnabout Trump. Phoenix uses very careful wording. He never outright lies, mostly misdirects. Like when he's asked if the locket is his, and he says the locket has his daughter's photo inside. But the most important misdirection here is about the forged card. He never shows it as actual evidence from the crime scene: if you look carefully at his words, he actually shows it as evidence of the reason why the killer would have taken the card. He's even meticulous about verb choices. In the ENG ver,, he even outright says the card is his. Everyone simply assumes. Also Apollo, unknowingly, doesn't present it as evidence from the crime scene, either. Anyway, here are some parts I found particularly incriminating. JP text beside ENG for comparison's sake. I'll only provide translation for the relevant parts (or the parts that differ between versions). But as you can see, the misdirection is there in the JP version as well. Disclaimer : I only studied Japanese for a little while. AA dialogue is pretty simple though. Also English isn't my native language either. Feel free to correct me on anything wrong here. Also note that I'm not trying to make the translations sound natural, I'm mostly trying to explain what the words are saying, sometimes I'll be more literal than others. Translation =/= localization. Translation notes and musings are in small text.
Judge いかがですかな? 弁護人。 Well, Mr. Justice? カードがスリ替えられて、 持ち去られた“理由”‥‥ The question of why the killer would swap out a card has been raised. そのコンキョを提示できますか? Can you point to a reason? Apollo (‥‥どうやら、 ここが“勝負どころ”だ!) (…It's now or never!) なぜ、カードは スリ替えられたのか‥‥。 Naze, kaado wa surikaerareta no ka... The defense would like to present evidence to the court… Naze, kaado wa surikaerareta no ka... Why the card was switched... 弁護側は、その“理由”を 提示したいと思います。 Bengogawa wa, sono "riyuu" o teiji shitai to omoimasu. Evidence showing the reason why a card was swapped out! Bengogawa wa, sono "riyuu" o teiji shitai to omoimasu. The defense would like to present that "reason".
Judge これは‥‥まさか! Could… this be…!? 現場から持ち去られた “5枚目のA”ですかッ! Could this be the missing fifth ace!? Kristoph ば‥‥バカな! なぜ‥‥なぜ、キミが‥‥ In-Inconceivable! How could you… そんなものを持っているのだッ! What are you doing with that card!? Apollo そ、それは‥‥その。 (なんだ、このあわてようは‥‥) Um, well, that's the thing… (Why's Mr. Gavin so upset?) (アヤシイ女の子からもらった、 ただのアヤシイカードなのに) (Ayashii onna no ko kara moratta, tada no ayashii kaado na noni) (It's just a fishy card from some fishy girl…) (Ayashii onna no ko kara moratta, tada no ayashii kaado na noni) It's just a suspicious card given by a suspicious girl... Apollo doesn't even understand the weight of the card when he presents it. He's just doing what Phoenix is pointing him to. He thinks it's just a suspicious card, and he's only using it to provide a "reason". At first, I was confused by this, because he seemed convinced later on that the card was real. But it appears that at first, he was indeed suspicious of it. It's just as the trial goes on, he's manipulated to think the card is indeed real. Because he trusts Mr. Wright, which *seems* to say it's real. Phoenix そのカードはね。 あの晩、事件の後‥‥ 《ボルハチ》で、 ぼくが拾ったんだよ。 Sono kaado wa ne. Ano ban, jiken no ato... "Boruhachi" de, boku ga hirotta n da yo. Oh, that card? It's mine. That is, I picked it up at the Borscht Bowl Club that night after the murder had occurred. カードは商売道具だからね。 ‥‥���スメにわたしておいたんだ。 Kaado wa shoubai dougu dakara ne. ...Musume ni watashite oita n da. I gave it to my daughter. Cards are her stock and trade, after all. In the ENG, 'It's mine' is actually an addition. Maybe to drive the point home more? The rest is the same though.
Phoenix じゃ、ハナシをつづけようか。 Ja, hanashi o tsuzukeyou ka. Allow me to elaborate. Ja, hanashi o tsuzukeyou ka. Well then, let's continue this discussion? (fun fact: hanashi can also be traslated as 'story', or even 'fable', you could say hanashi is the noun version of the verb hanasu (to talk, tell) so it's basically anything you 'talk' about) この“血痕”が原因だった としたら、どうでしょう。 Kono "kekkan" ga gen'in datta to shitara, dou deshou. What if this trace of blood was the reason? Kono "kekkan" ga gen'in datta to shitara, dou deshou. (what) If this ''bloodstain'' was the cause... what do you think? The 'dou deshou' is usually also traslated as 'what do you think?' - it's used after you make a statement and you want to ask for the other person's opinion. But mostly it's a rethoric question. 'What about it?' would also fit. Also interesting how "bloodstain" is in quotation marks...
Phoenix 現場写真‥‥被害者の頭部を もう一度、よく見てください。 Take another look at the photo… and at the victim's head. 犯行の瞬間、帽子は床に落ちて、 このとおり‥‥ At the moment of the crime, his hat fell to the floor… ひとすじの血が、 後頭部に向かって流れています。 …and a trickle of blood ran from his forehead down the back of his head. この血が、一滴。カードに落ちた。 ‥‥そうは考えられないでしょうか。 Kono chi ga, hitoshizuku. Kaado ni ochita. ...Sou wa kangaerarenai deshou ka. Couldn't a drop of that blood have fallen on one of the cards? Kono chi ga, hitoshizuku. Kaado ni ochita. ...Sou wa kangaerarenai deshou ka. This blood, this drop. Fell on the card. ...Is that unthinkable? / ...Is that unimaginable? He's basically proposing a theory. Not said the card in Apollo's hand is actually the one. Apollo カードに、血が‥‥ Kaado ni, chi ga... I suppose… Kaado ni, chi ga... On the card, the blood (fell)... Apollo is following along with what he's saying. Phoenix ハンニンは、それをかくすために カードを持ち去ったのです。 Hannin wa, sore o kakusu tame ni kaado o mochisatta no desu. The killer then took the card to hide the blood. Fun choice of words. 'no desu' = 'the explaination is that...' or, in this case: 'the explaination would be...' This is the more literal translation just to make it more obvious how he phrases it: The culprit, in order to hide that he took the card the explaination would be So in a way that it's actually comprehensible: The explaination would be that the culprit took the card in order to hide that (the blood).
Kristoph 成歩堂! キミも 一度は法廷に立ったオトコだ。 Wright! Regardless of how you wasted the last seven years, you used to be a lawyer! 証拠品を隠すことが、 どれだけ大きな“罪”であるか‥‥ You know what a serious crime it is to conceal evidence! Phoenix そのギロンはあとだよ、先生。 それよりも‥‥ Sono giron wa ato da yo, sensei. Sore yori mo... Oh, we can discuss the finer points of our legal system later… Found it funny how he calls him 'sensei' but in a way that is very mccking. 'Sensei' means someone who is masterful/very knowledgeable in something, in this context, law. He says 'Let's leave that discussion for later, sensei. More importantly...' これで、きみの疑問に 答えるコトができたようだね。 Kore de, kimi no gimon ni kotaeru koto ga dekita you da ne. What's important now is that I've answered your question. Kore de, kimi no gimon ni kotaeru koto ga dekita you da ne. And with that, I was able to answer your question, wasn't I? Basically says the same thing, but uses 'dekiru' = 'to be able to' Kristoph な。なんのコトですか? Wh-What are you talking about? Phoenix ハンニンがカードを 持ち去った“理由”だよ。 Hannin ga kaado o mochisatta "riyuu" da yo. You wanted to know why the killer would have taken a card from the crime scene. Hannin ga kaado o mochisatta "riyuu" da yo. The "reason" the culprit took the card. カードに残った、1滴の血。 Kaado ni nokotta, hitoshizuku no chi. And now, I've told you. A drop of blood, it feel on the card. (That was why) 彼にとっては“致命的”だった。 ‥‥だから、持ち去った。 Kare ni totte wa "chimeiteki" datta. ...Dakara, mochisatta. That one drop of blood would have been decisive evidence, you see. Kare ni totte wa "chimeiteki" datta. ...Dakara, mochisatta. For him, that (the drop of blood) was 'fatal'. ...So, he took it.
Overall, the word choice in both JP and ENG is very careful, but in different ways since... obviously they're different languages with different idiosyncrasies. In conclusion....
Phoenix basically treated the card not as evidence from a crime scene, but more of an example, a recreation, a construction. Never said that was the actual card. Made people assume. Didn't correct them. So... he manipulated their thoughts. He's like 'oh, you want to know the reason? well, let's see, why would the killer take the card...? well maybe it had incriminating evidence on it - oh what kind of evidence? look at this card here - see this drop of blood? what if the blood fell from the victim's head on the card? so he had to take it - because it would have made it obvious the killer entered from the secret passage and how the murder actually happened' Something that breaks my heart immensly about all this is that Apollo is so adamant at the start of the trial that Mr. Wright would never lie... and he's furious and heartbroken that he basically manipulated him (and everyone else), instead. Phoenix literally couldn't lie anyway, because then Apollo would have known. If you think about it, it's kind of how Engarde was able to lie to Phoenix even though he had the magatama. He purposefully and meticulously manipulated people to think the evidence was real, without ever saying it. Putting the words in other people's mouths. (Also... at least to me, this seems a very prosecutor-like tactic. Perhaps even Von Karma-like.)
Why does he even tell Apollo that he forged it? (He didn't have to.) Because he felt guilty. Apollo asks how he can call himself an attorney and he tells him he, in fact, doesn't call himself one. Doesn't have the right to. Phoenix isn't a liar - he says so himself after the trial, he never lied - but he sure is a manipulator here. But he does feel guilty. He lets Apollo punch him. And he smiles. I think this shows how even when we believe that what we're doing is wrong, we might do it anyways. Out of desperation, anyone might cave and go against their own morals.
#ace attorney#phoenix wright#apollo justice#kristoph gavin#ace attorney apollo justice#musings#aa musings#aa localization
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what's your opinion on the trials of apollo series? (if you already have a post like this, you could link it below, i just haven't seen it if so)
I think it has an interesting concept and introduces some interesting worldbuilding, plus some nice new characters, but overall it's not executed well and is an unnecessary third series. A lot of TOA kind of ends up breaking the theses of the first series by creating a premise that basically every character involved needs to be retconned to be able to fit within. It also focuses way too heavily on unnecessary cameos and retcons/overcorrecting previous mistakes. Not to mention how much new stuff it introduces that is... not great. Altogether it's kind of a mess. But I can see promise in some of the core concepts.
My two main sort of main "takes" on how I think TOA could be improved is either: a.) remove Calypso from HoO and instead have her be re-introduced in TOA as a tritagonist in a trio with Apollo and Meg, with the focal point of the trio's dynamic being the intersection of their experiences and how they relate to one another - with a lot of emphasis on Calypso being a mirror to Apollo in both being stripped of their immortality and thrown into the mortal world and having been unfairly punished. Then have Calypso join the Hunt in approximately TTT (essentially her way of taking control of her own life again and regaining her immortality) so the finale is Meg and Apollo on their own and Calypso's absence is naturally felt because we're used to trio dynamics in the franchise. It'd be a great way to break the convention of the series while also playing with this feeling of loss but also hope leading up to the final fight in a meaningful way without having to lean so heavily on unnecessary (and poorly executed) character death. Calypso is gone because she got her happy ending, and now it's Meg and Apollo's turn.
or b.) - and this is apparently controversial - instead of having the protagonist be Apollo, have it be Ares. Otherwise the overarching plot is the same. This way you can keep the plot structure but not have to entirely retcon Apollo's character to fit the story concept. It also finally ties up that loose thread about Ares never seeing repercussions for his actions and allowing him to have a positive character arc that way more naturally touches upon events from the previous series. As a bonus it also allows for bringing PJO!Ares closer to how he's mythologically portrayed and examining some of his mythological themes and what exactly he's the god of. Mars is an agricultural god! Having his deuteragonist being a daughter of Demeter would be really fun to highlight that! Mythologically he's usually portrayed as a really good father! Let's allow him to have some character development where he stops being such a jerk!
One of my core problems with TOA is Apollo's character is retconned entirely for TOA to even begin, he doesn't have any actual true flaws that he needs to work on throughout his character arc, and by the end he's literally just back where he started with his characterization in PJatO. It's a total net-zero. Why? Having Ares be the protagonist instead would be a great opportunity to take his currently very stagnant character from PJatO (and the very little he shows up in HoO) and have him change dramatically for the better. Doing so would also fit way more with the themes of the first series.
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why does rick riordan write percy differently in every book after pjo?
it is not even about the timelines. like, the way he wrote percy in son of neptune was I think a great characterization. he was amnesiac but he still carried a major undertone about how much he loved annabeth, and his normal characteristics like his loyalty, his experience in battle, his ability to make new friends, his natural leadership, him being a great war strategist even though he does not even remember how to make them, and his underlying anger and trauma from the Titan War. then this anger and characterization was not handled that well in mark of athena in my opinion and unfortunately percy's arc in that book was mostly used for that meaningless effort to create a rivaly between him and jason but it still was okay for most of the part. then in the house of hades, all that buildup has exploded, and wasn't that the perfect place for the character? he broke down finally, going as far as to bloodbend a goddess and liking it. his love for annabeth was the only thing that held him back, but it must have been very traumatising for him, not just the whole tartarus experience but that feeling of power, and liking the pain he caused on akhlys, that must have caused a big inside dilemma in percy. incredible place to put the character percy, after everything that has happened. that could have led to a great conclusion.
then the blood of olympus happened. and... well, where was percy's trauma? where was the result of percy going as far as to bloodbend to save annabeth and himself, and finding out the true limits of his power, which is so scary even someone like annabeth freaked out. someone who knows percy inside out, better than anyone does, that knows the way he breathes. she was scared of percy. and percy realised that. how is that of no consequence in blood of olympus? let alone, percy and annabeth does not even have povs. the only thing mentioned about this is annabeth talking to piper about what happened and piper's question about what would happen if percy decided to act scary. then... his nose bleeds, that wakes gaea, and that was something he technically knows he could control now, so he could have stopped his blood from dropping to the ground and waking gaea, but he did not because annabeth asked him not to. this could have caused a great arc showing percy's regret and dilemma about doing the right thing even if using that power is wrong and choosing to not do anything because he always puts annabeth first. but there was nothing because it took 2 minutes to defeat gaea after that. percy seems same, even less traumatised than he was at the end of titan war at the end of the blood of olympus.
i won't go into the trials of apollo much, because to be honest that was apollo's story and I found percy's small bits enough for that story. no need to build unnecessary characterization in that books for percy. but timeline wise , let's do demigods and magicians. he is back to being the scary, scowling, frightening and powerful demigod. and he knows he is powerful. his lines to carter, 'names have power, i can't tell you my name.' , 'not many people can fight me that well.' . I love the percy in that book. i think that is exactly where he should be at that point.
then the chalice of the gods happens.
percy in that book is nothing like in the demigods and magicians. and there is literally days between both books. he is back to thinking he is useless, and everything is like taken out of a time between the pjo books, like none of the hoo happened. same for the wrath of the triple goddess. where was percy's trauma of tartarus? of bloodbending? of all the other things that has happened? where was annabeth's trauma, as well but that's another long topic.
I just am starting to think rick resets the characterization of percy in the beginning of every book and likes to write what he wants at that moment. i really don't like him do this to percy out of all characters. and I wish he realised before he write the other books.
#percy jackson universe#percy jackson#percabeth#annabeth chase#pjo#wottg spoilers#wrath of the triple goddess#heroes of olympus#hoo#tartarus#the mark of athena#the son of neptune#house of hades#pjo fan#pjo thoughts#nico di angelo#rick riordan#percy jackon and the olympians
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hi, i know the episode came out weeks ago, but i wanted to talk about ep 277 and your essay on it. i thought it was very well thought out and had brought up lots of concerns abt apollo's other victims and the harm persephone caused to others that i just. hadn't really thought about myself because honestly this webcomic is a BLUR to me LOL. thank you for writing these insights and putting them online for others to read ! i think you manage to keep a respectful distance to rachel [1/]
Yeah, regarding how the SA was handled...
I think Rachel did exactly as well as anyone might have expected someone like her to write a plotline like that.
Honestly if Rachel really did want to do the arrow thing, I think it would have worked WAY better if she had used the arrow of hate. First of all, because it had already been established back in S2 when it was shot at him by Psyche, but ALSO because making it an arrow of love confirmed that Eros literally did what Apollo asked despite the fact that he's Persephone's best friend and should have been more suspicious of what he was going to use it for. Why not just do a bait & switch where Apollo is under the impression that it's an arrow of love but Persephone trusts in her friend and pieces it together that it's probably an arrow of hate? It would also payoff the whole "news crew being nearby" thing (as well as all the other gods that just randomly showed up) because uh oh now they all see his true nature and he can't hide behind his lies anymore!
After all, as I mentioned in my previous post about this (the one I believe you're referring to) it's not like there wasn't already foreshadowing that Apollo was going to fall on his own sword the way of Mr Waternoose from Monster's Inc, he was already showing signs of cracking under the guilt that he was feeling towards how he treated Persephone/Eris/Hermes/etc. so why did it have to be Persephone taking a massive risk by sticking him with an arrow of love that still doesn't fully explain why he would even suddenly be a changed man? Loads of people like Apollo think they're in love / define their infatuation as love so I don't see how an arrow of love would suddenly make him empathetic to her pain. Especially when, again, he still begs her not to make him confess, so the guilt he's feeling is still completely empty and unmotivated.
I will leave this with one final thing that I saw the other day that very much reminded me of the Apollo SA plotline and I think it rings very true for the misdirected conclusion of the plot itself:
One of the biggest issues of the Apollo SA plotline, at least in my opinion, is that it never really gets to the root of why people like Apollo exist. There absolutely were strong foundations for this - he's the son of a guy who's known for being a serial cheater, he's popular and egotistical and is used to women wanting him, etc. - but all of those foundations kind of fell to the wayside in favor of turning Apollo into just another boogeyman, especially to lift Hades up as a "good man" by comparison (when Hades himself also falls on this spectrum). But many people like Apollo aren't just random guys in an alleyway or conspiring with some "higher power" that's manipulating them, they're men who fundamentally do not understand consent and assault on the varying spectrums in which it exists from "SA just exists, oh well" passiveness to "I'm an actual monster who gets pleasure out of victimizing women" aggressiveness. I think there's a lot to discuss about how people like Apollo exist WITHOUT sympathizing with them, but LO manages to do neither - not only does it give us uncomfortable and unnecessary looks into the rapist's POV more than we get the victims, but it does it in a way that doesn't actually address the issue of how people like Apollo come to be, it's just "Apollo is the big evil boogeyman who raped Persephone". Not only does it not actually put enough focus on the victims, but it reduces the societal and cultural complexities of where Apollo's brand of egotistical entitlement comes from to just "some guys just be evil like that". Guys like Apollo don't just come out of the womb like that, they're often shaped into what they are by a society that both excuses them for awful behavior towards girls ("Boys will be boys!") and enables - if not outright encourages - them to objectify women as trophies that they're entitled to. Even the seemingly innocent and sentimental practice of "giving away a bride" at a wedding is rooted in these patriarchal systems, with the belief that a woman first "belongs" to her father before being "given to" her husband.
It's the part of feminism that often gets overlooked - it's not just about uplifting female voices and helping survivors speak up about and heal from SA, it's also about deconstructing and challenging the patriarchal systems that lead to SA victims being created in the first place. Sure, Apollo got sentenced to building temples in the Mortal Realm, but what is that actually doing to address the bigger topic of how men like him come to exist in the first place? Especially when it was also treated as a good thing for TGOEM to be disbanded, instead of, idk... reworking it into a women's support group for survivors like Persephone?
IDK, it's a very complicated subject that you can approach from a million different angles, I don't think that my criticizing it should outweigh the opinions of those who were satisfied with the punishment that was given to Apollo (my saying the SA plotline sucked doesn't mean you're not allowed to find your own validation in it) but I do think that, at best, Rachel ended the SA plotline the only way she could because she herself is just not equipped to tackle such broad subjects that require a lot more education, experience, and nuance than what she's capable of writing. There are definitely 1298423108 better ways that plotline could have been resolved, but not with Rachel Smythe at the helm.
And that's my many cents on that.
#lore olympus critical#anti lore olympus#lo critical#ask me anything#ama#anon ama#anon ask me anything
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> said he likes crazy | next -> a wish your heart makes words: 5.1k (holy shit) summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader) a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm (posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )
—
There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.
Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.
It almost feels real.
Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.
Your eyes pop open.
Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.
“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.
The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.
“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your Angelface and his Trouble.
It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.
His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.
“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”
You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.
“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?”
The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.
“Castellan.”
He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him.
Idiot.
Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.
“SISSY!!!”
“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!”
Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.
“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.
“Dunno Trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.
Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.
You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part.
But that’s kind of the problem.
Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke.
Especially since it’s Luke.
His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.
“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”
Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.
What a way to go, you two.
“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!”
You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back.
Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound.
You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window.
He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.
“Seriously?”
He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side.
“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.
This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.
Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.
“Kid, what the hell? You sick?”
Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy.
He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.
Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.
—
Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.
Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.
And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.
Being in love sure feels like it is.
The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.
Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.
Could he actually want more?
The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.
“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling.
All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.
“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.
You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.
It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability.
And who would want to love someone so difficult?
Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.
“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”
Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.
“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.
“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”
Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.
Does everyone know?
Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck.
Fuck.
“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape.
Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”
Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.
It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.
—
It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.
He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other).
“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”
Well… you have a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).
A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.
“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.
“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”
“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.
“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”
There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on.
“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.
For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.
It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).
—
Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
“Good evening, um…sir.”
“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”
Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?
Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).
“Are you drunk?”
Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.
“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.
There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”
“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not Trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father.
“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”
“What?”
“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.
Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.
“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.
“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….”
There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent.
It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.
“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”
“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”
Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.
“You should tell her that more often, sir.”
“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act needy if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”
“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”
Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.
“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”
“What bet?”
Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.
“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…”
“I’d die before that happens, sir.”
“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.
—
“I know you’re still awake, Trouble.”
You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.
“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.
“You didn’t.”
Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.
“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.
“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.
“What the fuck?”
“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”
“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.
“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.
There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.
His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.
“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”
His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.
“You’re my best friend, Angelface,” you mumble.
Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.
Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”
The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.
“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”
Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder.
“You think I’m not scared of us either, Trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”
“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.
“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.
You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.
—
Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).
—
“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt
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