#past ares x aphrodite

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Enchanted Hearts (1)

Warnings: manipulation, betrayal and mentions of insults.

“I can’t believe he’d treat me like this!” Hermione Granger raged as she stormed out of her biological father’s temple on Olympus with her fists clenched.

Try as she might, Hermione couldn’t think of any similarities that she shared with Ares. The god was brutish and cruel; he’d stood by, at her side mind you, as Hera sneered and mocked her.

A tinkling chime sounded from behind Hermione and the twelve year old whirled around to face whatever had made the noise. She came face to face with Aphrodite.

“Hermione, dear. Don’t frown - you’ll get wrinkles.”

Hermione glared at the goddess, “What do you want?” She spat. Right now, she didn’t want anything to do with any gods or goddesses. Especially if they were often romantically involved with Ares.

“You’re not the only one who is upset with Ares,” Aphrodite revealed. “He has been dismissive of me lately and that isn’t acceptable.”

“You’re planning something.”

“I am. I will need help to ensure my plan works.”

Hermione swallowed; she was still angry and hurt by Ares’ actions but she didn’t know what Aphrodite was planning. She knew that the goddess could be manipulative, cunning and vengeful. Did she really want to unleash a wrathful, destructive goddess on her father?

“This offer comes with a time limit dear.”

Hermione lifted her chin, threw caution to the wind and stared into the goddess’ multicoloured eyes, “I’m in.”

[bifairywife]

guess who dipped back real quick in lore olympus:

[supercutszns]

Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸

fighting chance; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader

synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.

warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3

notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!

You’re not much of a fighter.

That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Unless you’re a child of Ares.

People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.

Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.

There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.

The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.

He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.

He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.

The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.

“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.

“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”

“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.

You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.

He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”

“Confer?”

“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”

A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.

“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”

It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?

“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.

He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.

“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”

“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.

You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”

His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.

“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”

It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.

The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.

You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”

You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.

“All good?” He asks gently.

It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”

Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.

“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.

He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.

“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”

Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.

“And you’ve always got our flag.”

You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.

He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.

There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.

Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.

The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.

Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”

“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”

“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.

Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.

“Luke—”

“I’ll find her!”

He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.

He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.

It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.

“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”

The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.

“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.

You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”

“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”

The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.

Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.

You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.

The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.

“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”

Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.

Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.

Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.

The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.

Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.

And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.

“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.

The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.

“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”

“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”

“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.

“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”

“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.

“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”

It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.

The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”

Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”

He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.

Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.

“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”

Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.

The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”

“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”

He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”

You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.

You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.

“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”

You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”

“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”

“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”

You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.

Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”

“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”

You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.

“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”

The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.

“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.

“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”

“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”

“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.

You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”

It makes you smile. “So second-best?”

“Tied for first.”

He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.

“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”

“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”

You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.

Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.

“Don’t care,” Luke says.

You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”

“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”

You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.

You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

[queer-little-demigod]

you belong with me - clarisse la rue

summary she's in love with her best friend.

fic type fluff

pairing clarisse la rue x fem!Poseidon!reader

word count 1.8k

warnings jealous!clarisse, swearing, pining, knives, clarisse threatening people, fluff.

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune, check out their account!

At this point, Clarisse had no clue how the hell she fell for you.

You relationship had started when she'd tried to intimidate you on your first day at camp, and instead of backing down under her fierce as death gaze, you had threatened her at literal knifepoint.

"I've stood up to bullies bigger than you," you'd snapped, your soft e/c blazing with fire as the tip of a dagger kissed the underside of her jaw. “So back off, or I’ll make you regret it.”

While that earned you respect amongst everyone in camp, it earned you respect of every Ares cabin member, too.

Especially Clarisse la Rue.

The scariest girl in camp.

It had started off with her debating on whether or not she would be mean to you, making you her enemy, or befriending you.

She was strong, not stupid, so she chose the latter option.

Which brought you both here, today, three years later.

The spring season had started setting in, flowers were blooming, the sun was pleasant, wind wasn't scarce and it was cool. Sitting under the trees in the woods became a natural pastime for year-round campers like the two of you.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the surrounding trees, casting irregularly shaped shadows on the ground, turning them a deep green on the slightly prickly but comfortable grass.

Clarisse leaned her back against the big tree you both were sitting under, polishing her spearhead, with you in front of her, doing the same for your knives.

The daughter of Ares, while she'd never admit it aloud, was absolutely smitten when it came to you. In fact, this feeling had been lingering in her heart for some time, one which attracted her to you in a definitely non-platonic way.

So here she sat, listening to you talking. Your voice was the only thing she was focused on besides polishing her weapon. It stood out amongst the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees, the call of a distant bird, the lapping of the lake's water against the edge just past the clearing.

"So, I told Silena that Charlie's in love with her, not her actual dumb blonde of a sister, Sharon," you said, rubbing the polish on the cloth you had in hand, before continuing to polish your left-hand knife. "You know, for a child of Aphrodite, she is remarkably oblivious towards loving advances. Oh, and you know that girl, Kyra, from the Hephaestus cabin? My gods, she has been looking so fine--"

Clarisse stopped listening right then. She knew you were smitten with this girl from the Hephaestus cabin, and by every one of the ever-merciful gods of Olympus, she hated it. She hated how you talked about Kyra, how your eyes lit up when the muscled girl covered with grease so much it was an accessory would glance at you.

She tuned out and stared at you, not noticing the disdainful look on her face.

"Risse, you look like you just smelled a wild centaur," you laughed, putting the cloth down and sheathing your knives again.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and grumbled, "No, I don't like Kyra's vibe."

"Aww, jealous?"

"You wish,"

You were so oblivious. Not only were you unaware that Kyra was a playgirl, but you didn’t notice that Clarisse was smitten with you to the point where it was embarrassing.

For starters she looked at you like you were the world. With adoration, awe, and wonder. She honestly couldn’t stop thinking about you.

She hated how you didn’t notice how her eyes lit up around you, how she was softer with you compared to others, how she let you paint her nails (mostly) without complaint.

You were just too oblivious.

Naturally, that evening, that same evening, she was at the Ares table, talking with her own siblings, while she watched you help Percy out with the rest of the camp’s social structures—something he hadn’t quite figured out yet, even after having gone on a quest.

But the way her blood boiled, as if a furnace had lit up inside her heart, making fire course through her veins, when Kyra came up to you. She saw how flustered you got, saw the way your cheeks reddened when Kyra brushed a hair from your face.

By the gods and her father’s name she wanted to smack that Hephaestus girl into next week…

Meanwhile, you say with Kyra, enjoying the butterflies in your stomach when she touched you, laughed at your nervous rambling’s. But the butterflies suddenly came into light as a warning. What was the likeliness that this affection would last? What was concrete in this interaction? Was it just a playful banter? Or something serious?

So many questions, not enough answers.

But one thing was for certain: Kyra wasn’t the one for you. It took just one interaction for you to understand that.

To understand that Clarisse was right.

But before you could walk away, your hotheaded best friend, seething with anger, jealousy rolling off her in waves, came up to you both and ‘borrowed’ Kyra for a moment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Clarisse asked as she led a very surprised Kyra into the forest. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, playing with Y/n’s feelings like that?”

“Come on,” Kyra laughed, Nerva wearing off a little as her arrogance took over. “She’s a girl, a smitten little girl, who knows she likes a little bit of muscle,”

“Unfortunately she doesn’t know that there’s a snake under that damned muscle,”

“Jealous, Clarisse? Of course you are,”

“What that supposed to mean, punk?”

“You’re so in love with Y/n, it shows. Everyone in camp can tell,”

“Oh is that right? If you know that so well, then you’d better stay the fuck away from her,”

Kyra’s brows shot up. “Is that so? What if I don’t? What if I take her to this very spot, and kiss her, maybe while you watch from the bushes over there?”

Clarisse felt her fists clench, felt her whole body tense up with an adrenaline that came out only during battle.

“What if I break your legs and punch that stupid face in?” She asked, eyes full of the familiar fire that only her opponents saw. “I don’t think Y/n likes the taste of blood.”

She relished the look of panic on Kyra’s face. The trapped-animal stare, the darting irises, searching for a way out, analysing her moves in that second. The tense muscles, clenched jaw, closed fists. All of it was familiar to the child of war.

But how familiar was it to the child of the forge? Not much, probably.

“Stay the fuck away from Y/n, and you and I won’t have any problems, Kyra,” Clarisse said, her voice soft. That made it more dangerous. It was soft like the gentle rain that preceded the flooding thunderstorm—a warning.

Kyra nodded, knowing it was unwise to provoke Clarisse La Rue, especially over a girl everyone in camp knew not to mess with.

But it also meant that Clarisse figured out the depth of her love for you. That it was deeper than the vastest sea, stronger than the biggest tsunami, and more damaging than a hurricane. It was fiercer than fire, more powerful than a blow from her spear, and definitely more dangerous than war.

So she’s decided to flush out her feelings. Get them out before things got worse because she couldn’t possibly find a way to get out of the ‘philia’ situation she had going with you. She wanted ‘eros’, wanted ‘ludus’, and she knew it.

Her catalyst was the mind, she wanted it to be the body., wanted it to be the heart. She wanted you in a way that friends never wanted each other. She wanted you the way Achilles wanted Patroclus, wanted you the way Romeo wanted Juliet, the way Orpheus wanted Eurydice.

She wanted you and only you.

But she could never have that.

So she decided the best way to manage her haywire heart was distance.

But by every one of the gods, big and small, was she wrong.

You found that Kyra didn’t look in your direction ever again, and additionally, found Clarisse avoiding you with nearly psychotic fervour.

Three days. You tolerated it for three days.

Finally you stormed up to Clarisse when she was training. With a swift kick to the back of her knee, you sent her crashing to the ground, disarming her spear from her.

“What did you think you were doing, avoiding me like this?!” You seethed, knife at her throat. “What, was this your idea of punishing me for having Kyra flirt with me?”

Calmly, Clarisse moved you off her like one would brush away a particularly disgruntled cat, and stood up.

“Look, I’m fine, I wasn’t doing anything,” she shrugged, grabbing her spear.

You rolled your eyes. This girl was dumb, stupid, and an absolute useless person when it came to interacting with others.

“I don’t think ignoring me for three straight days can be counted as ‘not doing anything’!” You snapped, annoyed.

Clarisse flinched at your tone.

“Why?!” You asked, following her around as she cleared up the arena. “Why exactly have you been ignoring me, hm?”

She listened patiently to your incessant pestering, going about her business while you looked like you were about to blow a gasket with how mad you were since your hands began to move more animatedly, your frown deepening even more.

“Why the hell did you say that nothing’s wrong when something clearly is?! Are you jealous? Is that it?! Why?!” You asked, expecting her not to reply the way she had been the last ten minutes.

Clarisse had had enough. She was taking the plunge into that deep dark sea, not sure if she was ready to face the monsters in it.

“Because I’m in love with you!” She said, turning around with a terrified look on her face. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t know what to do about it because you clearly don’t love me back!”

You stood silent for a second too long. But she didn’t run. She stayed there, waiting for your answer.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked, baffled.

No butterflies, nothing fluttered in your stomach, your heart rate merely quickened and your body pulsed in every place with serotonin.

No butterflies meant this wasn’t just a thing, a fling. It wasn’t mindless flirting.

This was ‘ludus’, the love of intimacy, pure love.

“Yes, Y/n, and it kills me every single day, hearing you ramble about Kyra, and you know what I’m thinking when you talk about her like that?” She asked, tears ready to come out of her eyes. “I think that I could treat you like a queen, like you’re above Hera herself. I think that why would you love a playgirl who won’t give a single fuck about your feelings, when I’m here already knowing what you want for breakfast every day of the week! I think that I could be better than her, that I am better than her, in every possible way, but you’re just blind! You don’t see that I look at you like you’re the world because you’re so smitten with a girl who would toss you aside for the next blonde girl she sees!”

You listened to her carefully, taking in her words. In between, neither of you knew when, she had started crying. Small tears rolled down her bronze skin, tracing small pathways in their trail of sadness, of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you replied softly, stepping closer, putting a hand up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry that I was blind to how you feel about me, I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,”

“And Y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? I can’t…I know that we can never be together and…” she stopped short when your hands went up to cup her cheeks.

“Why is that?”

“Philia, Y/n. Friendship love.”

“Who says it can’t progress?”

“You don’t love me back,”

“I do,”

“Friendship love doesn’t count here,”

“Bold of you to assume I’m talking about friendship,”

Clarisse froze.

“I love you too, Clarisse,” you said softly, looking at her in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about ‘philia’. Gods I love you the way Achilles loved Patroclus, the way Romeo loved Juliet, the way Orpheus loved Euridyce,”

“I thought that too,” she whispered, shocked. “How…”

“I know that because these three romances are the ones I’ve read to you,” you replied. “I know you, Clarisse. But I was too blind to see your love went past my mind and extended to my heart, my body, my soul. And I’m sorry for being blind.”

“You belong with me, not her,”

“Do you see me doubting that?”

She giggled softly. Clarisse La Rue, the most feared girl in camp, giggled like a little kid.

“It’s okay, I guess, you little dumbass,” she chuckled. “So…what now?”

“I don’t know, do we kiss?” You asked, confused. “You know I have never kissed a girl before and—“

She silenced you with a finger to your lips.

“Let’s…take it slow? Ease into it?” She asked. “Cause I have never kissed a girl either,”

“Be my girlfriend, though?”

“You thought I’d say no?”

Hi! It’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3

[abbeym28]

Clarisse x Reader - This is a Life

Clarisse x gn! reader

Reader is from the Aphrodite cabin, but only for the plot!

An- Around 3.3k words, sorry it took so long to get out! Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know if I should write something that kind of does more of a deep dive into this, because I feel like something is missing or something

Warnings- Weapons, fake dating, blood at one point, affection, petnames, guy named Andrew (apologies to any one named Andrew), Aphrodite is a pretty okay mom in this. Pls tell me if I missed anything!

Everybody in camp recognized you as the favored child of Aphrodite. People looked twice when you walked by, flowers bloomed in your direction, and mirrors wished they could reflect you.

Clarisse is the favored daughter of her dad, Ares. People feared her, flowers looked away as she passed, and only a select few could stand to be close to her.

But even those who were close kept a great distance.

That was what was similar between the favorite Aphrodite kid and the favorite Ares daughter.

But even that was comparable, for she was a daughter, and a daughter could never compare to a son in her fathers eyes, whilst your mother seems to love you unconditionally.

You and Clarisse weren't close by any means, but you had always caught each other's attention on some level.

For you, it was how she sparred. Muscles flexing, covered in sweat, and a wild and free grin spread across across. You could find beauty in her that was no wheres else in the camp.

For her, it was the way you held yourself and how you were with young campers. Your slight confidence, the care you have for each camper, and the way you treat others. It was admirable, considering the way that Clarisse was probably the opposite of you.

“-risse, Clarisse, Clarisse!” Clarisse brook out of the slight stupor she was in and looked across the table where her sibling was calling her name and waving his hand around. “Oh, thank the gods. I about almost called over an Apollo kid to check on you.” She rolled her eyes as he laughed a bit.

They were in the dining hall, for it was lunch. Her plate was still quit full as she looked down at it. She was hungry, but she felt as if there was something preventing her from eating.

“Hey, would you look at that.” Her brother was looking past, his eyes holding questions. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and scoffed. There you were, holding your tray and standing talking to Percy Jackson, who was sitting alone at his Poseidon camp table.

That Capture the flag game happened a while ago now, but it was still upsetting how many people still like that kid, even after what he did, although it makes sense with all of the things he has done.

Her grip on her fork tightened, and she glared hard in your direction. Her brother snorted. “You really like them, huh?” She whipped her head back to look at him.

“What? Who?” She softened just slightly after he said your name. “Where did you get that idea?”

“The way you two look at each other. There's a rumor going around that you two are secretly dating each other, but we all know that you would never.”

“Never what?”

“Date anyone. Especially them.” She scoffed again.

“What do you mean?”

“You're not… an emotional person. Everyone knows you couldn't even make a relationship actually work.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine then.” She slammed her hands against the table and got up, making her way over to you. Percy noticed her first and scrambled to sit up straighter and to not smile. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he nodded his head in Clarisse’s direction and you laughed a little.

“Hey Claris-” you lifted one of your hands up to wave, but once she was close enough she took that hand in hers and then wrapped her other arm around your waist, pulling you towards her in a kiss.

The whole camp seemed to go quiet, and while it wasn't the most emotional kiss, Clarisse was very passionate in how she was kissing you, it was overwhelming to say the least. Your tray dropped, spilling food all over the ground and making a loud crash. Your hand found its way to the back of her neck and you gently tugged on her curls and twirled some of the baby hairs at her nape around your fingers. She broke off the kiss, looking you right in your eyes as you were flustered and tried to reclaim your breath.

“Um, what the-'' Percy began, but before anything else was said Clarisse tugged on your hand and ran towards the forest with you.

“Clarisse, what was that a-”

“Date me.” She blurted out the words before her mind could tell her to not to.

“What- this is super out of the blue, even for you Clarisse!” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“We can fake dates then. Just for a few months or so.”

“How is that even relevant?!?!”

“If we fake date, then none of it will be real. And then, I get to prove something, and you…well,  I can make sure people dont bother you.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“But why?” Clarrise sighed deeply and your eyebrows furrowed more.

“Look, people already think we are dating, my sibling thinks I could never be in a relationship, and I don't hate you. Much.” She then looked you up and down in a way that almost made you wish that you were invisible.

“Now, how well can you act?”

The shock of the century happened at camp Half Blood the next morning at breakfast when Clarrise showed up with you attached to her arm. Jaws were on the floor and every table was turned towards your direction.

Clarisse had a proud smirk on her face as she survived the dining hall. Some part of you also felt weirdly proud as well, as if having your arm intertwined with hers was the reason you were at this camp anyway.

She moved you in the direction of the Ares table, an arrangement the two of you had settled on while setting up rules and guidelines. You would sit with her at her table, at least come to most of her training sessions and sit next to her at the bonfires. She would visit the strawberry fields and lake with you, join the craft classes you have with young campers, and on occasions, she would allow you to place a kiss on her while wearing lipstick or lip gloss, making sure to leave a mark.

You both also agreed on minimal kissing, which was a shame since she was a good kisser. Any other types of touches were pretty much guaranteed if the two of you were near each other.

“Goodmorning.” Clarisse greeted the rest of the table, untangling her arm from yours before setting her tray on the table and then sitting down. You did the same, and in an instant, Clarrise wrapped her arm around your waist, situating her hand on your stomach comfortably. You scratched a bit closer to her so your thighs were touching.

A chorus of morning greetings left various peoples mouths and Clarisse hummed a bit. She reached for a bag of apple slices and ripped open the small bag with the help of her teeth. You giggled a bit and nudged her side.

“Honey, that was kind of weird. You know you could've just let go of me, right?” She stared into your eyes mischtifully.

“You lost me at let go.”

It took everything in you to not burst out laughing as a few people around you literally gagged. She winked at you and you grinned at her before the two of you each turned back to your breakfast.

Your chin sat on both of your palms as you sat in the stands right outside of the training grounds, watching as Clarisse took on another camper in a dual. Capture the flag was coming up in about a week, but despite that, many people have come up to you asking if the news that had spread around camp was true.

“Hey, babe, did you see that?” Clarisse was jogging over to you, a smile on her lips. You smiled back at her and once she was close enough moved to stand between your legs, her hands trailed up your thighs lightly before they landed on your waist. You tried your best to ignore the shiver that went through your body.

“I missed it. I’m sorry hun.” You put one of your hands on her shoulder while you fiddled with one of her strands of curls with the other. She let out a breathe, and you could almost swear she was pouting.

She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching your ear. “You're doing good, yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” you whispered back. She moved a little bit back and smirked.

“Good. You keep doin’ that, 'kay sweetheart?” she patted your thigh twice before turning and running back to her training. Your heart skipped one to many times during that interaction.

Please Mother, let me survive this.

The next week and a half went pretty much like that, with you and Clarisse glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the day. She was even somehow able to convince Chiron to put the Aphrodite cabin on the red team.

You were with Clarisse now, getting ready for the capture the flag game. Your armor sat heavily on your shoulders as you did your best to fix all of the straps while following your “girlfriend” and listening to her bark out orders and plans.

Some of your siblings were grouped together all complaining about how much stuff they had to do compared to when they were on the blue team, but you knew that some of them were grateful that Clarisse knew that they were capable to do things that the other cabins could do.

Clarisse looked behind her where you were still struggling with your armor. She sighed and moved closer to you. She carefully took your hand in hers and then tighten your straps so that way it was secure. You watch her face the whole time, finding the way she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to be quite cute.

“There. You ready to do this?” She looked up, pausing when her eyes met your. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before your eyes flickered to the ground, or at least any wear that wasn't her face.

“Yeah, I am. What did you want me to do again?” She huffed out a laugh and then moved past you.

“All you need to do sweetheart is to follow me.”

Even though you were out of breath, you continued to follow your fake girlfriends footsteps.

Well, it wasn't like you had much of a choice with how tightly she was holding your hand and tugging you along paths.

Out of nowhere, a group of people from the blue team jumped out of the trees and began to attack. Clarisse let go of your hand and brought out her spear, running forward and taking on two people at once.

You took out your provided sword and prayed that your trainings with Clarisse would pay off. Your sword clashed with the sword of a boy from the Hermes cabin, and you recognized him as a guy named Andrew, someone who used to follow you around and flirt with you before you and Clarisse became a temporary item.

“I’ve been wondering if I could even get you alone.” Andrew backed you away from the rest of the group and more into the trees.

“I have a girlfriend, Andrew.” You made sure your voice was stable and hard. You hoped you could get your point across to him, but this is the guy who couldn't take a hint from you before, so it was evident that he wasn't going to start now.

“Come on, everyone knows that you like me. We can tell that Clarisse pressured you into the relationship. The two of you weren't meant to be.” You tripped over a root, sending you falling, hitting the ground hard and hurting your back in the process.

“Me and you were meant to be together. Couldn't you see that I was flirting with you? ‘Cause I could see that you returned the feelings with how you flirted with me.” Your eyes flickered for any type of escape from his anger and jealousy, but there was no safe way out with how he was practically sitting on your stomach. It made you sick with how close his face was to yours.

“Well,” you carefully moved your hand to twirl a longer strand of his hair between your fingers. It was straight, especially compared to Clarisse’s. You tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and you tried to push away the urge to gag. If using the charm you had gotten from your mother would get you out of this, then so be it. “I had no idea you felt like that, sweety. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Charmspeak wasn't against the rules. After all, this was the gift that was given to you from your godly parents.

You watched as his eyes followed your hand as you began to softly caress his face.

This has to be one of the most disgusting things you have ever done.

“So you do like me! I knew th-” Andrew stopped his sentence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he flopped off of you to the side. You jumped up, finding yourself in front of your savior.

“Clarisse! You knocked him out! Is that even aloud?!” Clarisse laughed and poked Andrew with the none sharp end of her spear.

“He deserved it. Easiest decision of my li…” you stopped trying to wipe off all of the dirt that had resided on your clothes to raise your eyebrow at her Clarisse.

She was staring at you, her mouth slightly open and an almost entranced look in her eyes.

Was there dirt on your face? Did you somehow use your charmspeak on her?

“Um, Clarisse, maybe we should-'' Before you could finish your sentence, Clarisse had brought her left hand up and gently slid her thumb over your cheek bone.

You guessed that you had gotten a small cut there, and from the small flash of red that appeared and her thumb, you guessed that you were right. She moved it away a bit, and then she pushed back a strand of hair that had begun to obstruct your vision. She kept her hand there then, and you brought up your hand to touch her wrist, a grounding move for you were starting to feel light headed. You stared into eachothers eyes, and what broke you apart was the flinching sound of the games ending conch shell horn.

The blue team had won, another year in a row.

Clarisse sighed and ended the contact, moving away and bending down to pick up your discarded sword. She put it in your hands.

“You weren’t too bad out there. And, you, huh, you looked, um pretty good too.” She nodded, cleared her throat and turned away from you, heading back down the trail, but not before using her foot to push Andrew out of the way more.

For some reason, that was the moment you finally realized how in love you were with your fake girlfriend.

That night, your mother appeared in your dreams for the first time. Sitting on the wood pierre that was feet above the water, with moon light reflected off the liquid, Aphrodite appeared in front of you. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, and that tanned skin that you could swear you had begun to memorize, your mom looked different from what you expected.

“I appear as what you are attracted to,” Aphrodite nudged your shoulder from where she sat beside you. She seemed to respond to what you were thinking. “For you, that's that girlfriend of yours.”

“Fake girlfriend. We aren't really dating.” Aphrodite laughed in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster. That laugh belonged to someone who now had your heart.

“Could… could you switch to look like someone else? This is kind of unnerving to me.” She laughed again and shook her head.

“I can't be here for long, my child.” She change the subject.

“Then why are you here?”

“You're in love somehow. I know that you probably wouldn't tell her without some sort of push.”

You stared at her. She was practically glowing, the sear fabric that was draped on her body floating.

“Hearts aren't meant to hurt, hunny. If you distance yourself, or try to break away from her and move on, then two hearts will get hurt.”

Silence fell over the two of you, just for a moment.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Am I… am I really your favorite? I mean, other people say that, but you've never given me a gift, and I haven't been on a quest, and this is the first time I've even met you. I just-”

“There are many of you, and I have love for each of you and your siblings. But yes, it could be said that I am very proud of you, and what you have accomplished.” Tears started to fill your eyes, though you weren't sure exactly why you were crying.

“Goodbye, my dear.” She softly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And with that, your mother was gone once again.

Tears were running down your face once you woke up.

You moved off your blankets and got up moving towards the cabin's front doors. It was almost pitch black, and it was easy to tell that it was still night. Maybe just sitting out on the porch and thinking would do you some good.

But right when you were a few steps away, the door started to crack open.

Your mind jumped to many conclusions, like there was a ghost or one of your siblings had stayed out late with their partner. Then you caught sight of the hand that was pushing on the wood.

It was the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that had held onto your body all week. The same hand that you had seen wielding a sword for years.

“Clarisse?” The door stopped opening, and then Clarisse poked her head through the opening.

She whispered your name back, and you took note about how this was the most sheepish you had ever witnessed her to be. She backed up, and you went out of your cabin to join her.

“Hey.” she whispered.

“Hi.” you whispered back. “What's wrong?” You could swear that her hand twitched in the slightest, like she was about to reach out and hold yours but thought better.

“I, um, had a nightmare. You were the only place I could think to go to. It’s fine now though, so you should go back inside and get your beauty sleep.” She turned away from you, starting to go down the steps back to her cabin.

“Do you like me?” She stood still on the second step down. You walked towards her slowly, and you started to wish you had brought a blanket out with you. The night chill was starting to get to you, and you were starting to wish that you had that type of safe feeling.

“My, um, my mother visited my dreams tonight. And we talked, and I know that we havent really been dating, but i kike you Clarisse, and I kind of hoped, only if you want, if we could kind of be offic-”

A pair of lips crashed into yours before anything else happened. The passion from the first kiss that the two of you had shared was there still, but this time something felt so much more real.

You felt so many emotions, and so did Clarisse, and you knew that she was trying to convey them all to you like this.

Both of her hands were on your face, each one gently holding your cheeks so you could stay in place. Your hands were on her wrists, but you moved them to the back of her neck where you gently tugged on her curls. You smiled into the kiss.

Her hair would always be your favorite.

Clarisse pulled away from the kiss, and laughed when she saw your eyes were still closed. You glared at her a little, but your smile was still present on your face.

“I do.” Clarisse said. You hummed and tilted your head in confusion. Clarisse laughed again a bit.

“I do like you.” Somehow your smile got even bigger.

“So we can kiss anytime now?”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

[cece693]

Sword Fighting (Nico Di Angelo x Son of Aphrodite)

link to part two

Summary: You were a likable asshole—everything not associated with Aphrodite. You were devilishly handsome but with a temper of Zeus himself. It was as if you were a byproduct of Aphrodite and Ares. Unsurprisingly, you catch the eyes of many, but more so, the son of Hades, Nico Di Angelo.

tags: no specific timeline/book, oblivious idiots in love, Nico isn't dating Will, you did have something with the son of Apollo, dancing around feelings

Nico watched from the shadows, eyes fixed on the training field where you and Percy Jackson were locked in a heated sparring match. Each movement you made was precise, and confident—like you were born with a sword in your hand. The sunlight caught the sharp angles of your face, highlighting the look of sheer determination in your eyes as you deflected Percy’s swing with a graceful sidestep.

Nico tried to look away. He knew he should, but something kept his gaze glued to you. Perhaps it was the influence of Aphrodite in your veins, that inherent allure that seemed to draw in everyone around you, making them wish they could be closer, even when they knew you could be merciless. But deep down, Nico knew it wasn’t just that. He had felt the allure of others before, including Percy, but what he felt now was different. It was stronger.

You were unlike anyone he’d met at camp. A likable asshole, some called you, a paradox that intrigued him. While most children of Aphrodite were known for their beauty and charm, you were the polar opposite. Devilishly handsome, yes, but with a temper that could rival even Zeus himself. It was as if the gods had mixed the charms of your mother with the fierce spirit of Ares, creating something dangerously compelling. And that danger was precisely what caught Nico’s attention.

Your sword collided with Percy’s in a shower of sparks, and a grin spread across your face. The thrill of the fight, the intensity of it—those things stirred something inside you that Nico could almost feel from where he stood. It was part of what made you so maddeningly attractive. While others found themselves drawn to you for your looks or your charisma, Nico was captivated by that spark, that raw, untamed energy you seemed to possess.

And it frustrated him.

Nico wasn’t one to get swept up in emotions, especially not for someone so openly infuriating. You were arrogant, quick-tempered, and brimming with an insufferable confidence. Yet, there you were, invading his every thought. He wanted to hate you, to dismiss you as just another self-absorbed child of Aphrodite. But every time he watched you—whether you were laughing with friends, glaring at someone who had crossed you, or fighting as you were now—he felt his resolve crumble a little more.

Percy swung his sword in a wide arc, but you were faster, ducking under it and stepping to the side. “You’re getting sloppy, Jackson!” you teased, voice tinged with that self-assured arrogance Nico had grown used to hearing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Percy grumbled, adjusting his stance. “Just you wait.”

You turned your head slightly, as if sensing Nico’s gaze on you. For a split second, your eyes met his, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you. Nico’s heart skipped a beat. Then, just as quickly, you turned back to Percy, deflecting another attack with a casual flick of your wrist.

“You’re staring again, Di Angelo.” A familiar voice came from behind him. Not bothering to turn, Nico felt Will Solance come and stand next to him, probably wearing a knowing smirk. He felt his cheeks burning, “Shut up, Solace.”

No heat was behind his words; after all, it seemed foolish to argue with one of his only friends. Will chuckled, glancing past Nico to where you continued to spar with Percy. “He has that effect on people, you know.” he remarked with a knowing smile.

Nico’s jaw tightened, an unexpected pang of jealousy curling in his chest. He knew Will meant nothing by it, but the reminder stirred something inside him, something dark and possessive. You and Will had a brief romance once, something that had lasted only a few months before you both decided to part ways amicably. But despite the clean break, the memory of your closeness with Will gnawed at Nico. He hated that it did. The two of you had managed to stay friends, and he couldn’t deny that Will still harbored a certain fondness for you—one that Nico wasn’t sure he could compete with.

“Right,” Nico muttered, eyes narrowing as he watched you effortlessly parry another of Percy’s attacks. “He seems to have that effect on everyone.”

Will raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Nico. “Jealous, are we?”

Nico shot him a glare. “No.” he lied, a little too quickly. He hated how transparent he could be sometimes, especially around Will, who knew him too well for comfort.

Will sighed, his smile softening. “Look, I get it. He’s…hard to ignore.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But you should know, our thing was just a fling. We’re friends now, and he’s—”

“Don’t,” Nico cut in sharply, his voice tight. “I don’t need you to explain anything.”

"But—" Will tried to speak, however, Nico had already disappeared. Huffing in frustration, the son of Apollo continued watching as you easily beat Percy, sword hovering dangerously under his chin. When would those two oblivious idiots realize they're pinning for one another?

[amoreva]

yes i’m so glad you’re writing for clarisse because im obsessed with your writing.

could you write something with reader being a really confident and vain daughter of aphrodite who channels her mothers war goddess attributes and is one of the best sword fighter in camp? also playful teasing from reader and sparring because 1 i need justice for the massacre of aphrodites character and 2 clarisse x aphrodite!reader is essential to my life force. haters can hate.

maybe also show how other campers interact with her as well, like luke showing percy around idk

LOVER AND A WARRIOR

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pairing: clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary: clarisse has always been a hard hitter and a tough lover, but a certain someone from aphrodite makes her soft. and she doesn’t entirely mind it.

warnings: use of “y/n” once or twice, kinda switches to percy’s pov, fighting, almost death(?), fluff, mentions of beckendorf!!

a/n: i really hope i did this request right! enjoy! i was trying to crank this out as soon as i could.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

Everyone thought you’d be claim by Ares (even though your dad was still very present and not a god) or at least by Athena. You were smart and a hell of a lot strong; both mentally and physically.

So it came to a surprise when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, claimed you.

Though, Clarisse knew you were her daughter. You were every bit of passionate: about life, hobbies, interests, her. You paid attention to every little detail that flew out of her mouth (she noticed).

It didn’t help that you channeled your mother’s past title and abilities. After all, in Sparta, she was known as Aphrodite Aeria, “Aphrodite the Warlike”.

Clarisse was head over heels for you the minute she saw you fight (you even bested Luke, how was she not supposed to not fall in love with you?)

You and Clarisse started dating at the peak of the Summer Solstice and never looked back. No one knew Clarisse could be so…tolerating to someone outside of her cabin, especially to one of Aphrodite’s daughter.

Percy surely didn’t expect it either.

Clarisse was so callous and you were compassionate. He guessed that thing about opposites attract was true.

“Look, you want attention here, dummy?” Clarisse spoke condescendingly to the newest camper. She just couldn’t believe a scrawny kid took down the Minotaur. “You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Clarisse made Percy flinch and walked past Hermes’ kids. An amused smile plastered on her face. Luke shook his head as Ares’ kids passed which begged the question. “Why don’t they mess with you?” Percy asked.

“They know better.” Luke smirked.

“Luke’s the second strongest swordsman in camp.” Chris added with a proud grin.

“Who’s the first?”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, you walked by in perfect timing. Percy’s eyes glued to you. You witnessed the whole situation and went to talk to your girlfriend. “Clarisse…” You muttered.

Percy watched Ares’ daughter soften at the mention of her name from your lips. Nothing in the facial expressions, it was all in the eyes.

“She doesn’t look menacing or intimidating—” Percy acknowledged.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Luke reminded as he glanced back at you and Clarisse. “Got my ass handed to me when I sparred with her.”

Percy looked at Luke. “Really? Can I train with her?”

•••

It wasn’t odd to find Clarisse in Aphrodite’s cabin; nor was it odd to find the two of you cuddling on your bunk. Sunlight beaming onto the two of you and the only sounds were the campers outside. All of your siblings when do go enjoy camp activities while you read to Clarisse.

Ancient Greek flows from your mouth like the water from River Styx. Clarisse had one arm haphazardly thrown across your abdomen. Her head perched on your shoulder.

Silently, she admired the way your lips moved. The way you were invested into the story. The way she can see all the tiny details on your gorgeous face from this position.

Clarisse found herself falling for you more and more with each second of the day. She was aggressive and intimidating. She was Ares’ favorite daughter after all, but she found herself becoming more softhearted to you.

“You’re my…everything.” Clarisse whispered fondly. It might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but it made you blush.

She never failed to make you blush. Your rosy cheeks complimented with a sheepish grin. “Clarisse…” You mumbled and put down the book.

“I mean it.” Clarisse stated firmly and sat up on her elbow. Her heart locket fell from her orange Camp t-shirt. It matched yours, except you had a sword charm. Clarisse insisted on giving it to you (after threatening Beckendorf once or twice) for your two month anniversary.

“I know.” You reassured and pecked her lips quickly. Clarisse smiled and dived back in to press her lips into yours

A giggle erupted from you. A rush of dopamine intoxicating your brain. It always felt like the first kiss with her. “I love you, I love you, I love you—” You repeated into her lips.

“I get it, lovergirl.” Clarisse chuckled as she pulled away. Her cheek tinged with pink. “I love you too.”

She continued. “Will you keep reading? You sound so beautiful when you read—”

“Clarisse!” You exclaimed. Your blush even more prominent.

“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend she has a voice from the sirens that could bring the Big Three to tears?”

“Clarisse…”

“Keep reading, lovergirl.”

•••

“This is safe, right?” Percy asked Grover.

“Yeah! Perfectly safe.” Grover reassured with a smile.

Luke had recruited you to help train Percy (Clarisse just so happened to tag along). There were swords in all of your hands. You were going to fight Clarisse and Luke and Percy doubted you were that good.

It was all to help Percy learn more about fighting with the sword and a great way to show off. The forest clearing gave enough room to really show your talents in combat.

“Don’t go easy on me!” You yelled at Clarisse and Luke on the other side of the clearing. Percy and Grover were sitting on rather large rocks anticipating the battle.

You took a deep breath and your eyes hardened. It was like switched had been flipped within you. You shifted your foot, sliding it in the dirt. The air felt different. Tense, sharp, lung-crushing.

Clarisse and Luke tightened their grip on their swords and gave each other a confirming nod. Percy and Grover watched as the three older half-bloods charged one another.

With precision and quick-wit, you were able to keep Clarisse and Luke on their toes. Luke shifted his weight in his feet before charging you again. You clashed swords. Celestial Bronze against Celestial Bronze.

Your ears perked up on shoes slapping against the dirt. You ducked causing Clarisse to swing at Luke. There was no trace of a your warm sweet smile Percy saw, only your hardened gaze.

It was kind of scary to see Aphrodite’s daughter switch up so fast.

Clarisse cursed under her and swiped her sword as if flicking off imaginary blood. She met your gaze, her heart skipped a beat. She rushed you again and swiped your legs. You jumped back with the grace of a swan, but Clarisse parried her sword immediately after.

You riposted Clarisse when Luke cane out from behind Clarisse to continue an onslaught of attacks. You scoffed quietly, but you could never complain. It was a good workout.

Yet, a particularly heavy swing from you knocked Luke’s sword from out of his hand. His sword flinging at Percy’s head. Percy shouted and ducked.

“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed and slapped your heads over your mouth in surprise.

Clarisse and Luke stopped their attacks and looked back at Percy and Grover. Luke’s celestial bronze sword was sticking out of a tree. Percy centimeters away from the blade.

You apologized for your reckless behavior. Percy was more scared of how fast you switched from your focused nature to a worried attitude.

“It’s okay…” Percy laughed nervously.

“He said he was fine!” Clarisse called out and walked towards you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry, Percy.” Luke apologized.

“A lover and a fighter. Got it.” Percy noted in his mind as you complained to Clarisse about feeling bad about impaling Percy.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

[neptunesringz]

Relationships in the “Proto-Era”/Era III ! (Under the cut is rambling about my AU)

Eras was created from a collection of theories and headcanons. theoretical planets have quotations around their names("theia"/"x") because they do not have names in canon!

"theia" and terra seem to be the most focused on in popular past aus, and most have similar personalities, so I decided to turn that on its head and make Eras! Era III/"The Proto-Era" is definitely the most developed currently!

terra was only popular in the inner system— giants and rockies rarely interacted outside of hermes being a messenger and ares talking to zeus. terra was only interesting in the inner system because he was one of the last planets created not by a collision. because of this, aphrodite began to favour him and proclaimed terra his brother. "theia" saw this as an opportunity to finally be liked, and tried to be friends with terra. this... did not go well—several times.

the gas giants do not like each other, in fact, cronos and zeus can be seen arguing and throwing asteroids at each other rather than doing anything else. they have a shared dislike/hatred of "x", maybe that could do something.

the ice giants are brothers, poseidon and caelus being older twins to "x". poseidon's personality and role is a complete 180 from present-day neptune.

ramble ends here for now :)

[ma1dita]

entropy

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.6k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. You and Luke forge a promise of becoming partners in crime. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: something happy for the tl– this is the official end of the pre-established relationship arc!! contains two demigods hating their godrents and typical teenager mood swings (thanks for being patient during my hiatus! missed yall <3)

(posted 6/20/24, semi-edited)

—

Whoever said that finding where you belong is the key to happiness must have been lying.

That, or they’ve never known what it’s like to be a 15-year-old girl.

Sweat drips down the side of your brow bone in the middle of the summer heat. It’s a mystery why you’re still out here with the blistering itch of humidity sending everyone at Camp Half-Blood out to the lake to cool off during free period. You’ve never been friendly with the other campers anyway. It’s not for lack of trying—but toeing the line between being a total psychopath (because of who your dad is—THE god of insanity) and the biggest possible narc (also because of who your dad is—the worst camp director ever) didn’t exactly help your reputation in the past year of taking up space here.

And honestly… teenagers can be fucking mean.

The Aphrodite kids often laugh at your unkempt appearance, hair brushed only by the warm breeze and your camp shirt twisted and tie-dyed to your liking. You had a knack for getting into trouble with the Hephaestus kids after setting something on fire at the armory once… or twice. The Apollo kids were nice enough for as long as you’d sing a song—but there was no way you’d stick in the background arranging sheet music and playing guitar for them forever. Athena cabin was always too cool for you—with no one but little Annabeth Chase entertaining your endless chattering (but if anyone asked, you’d think it’s because they’re all sore losers when it comes to chess). The Ares kids were a little more your speed if only they would stop using you as moving target practice and the Demeter kids might’ve been nicer if you knew how to grow anything other than strawberries. 

It was nice to be included, you guess. Tolerated at best.

But it wasn’t the same as feeling like you belonged.

From the corner of your eye, you see Luke Castellan come back from lunch and dust kicks up from under your boots as you cross your legs in the lawn chair you sit in. Blinking harshly, you realize you’ve been squinting at the sun for ages. He’s seen you do weirder things since you’ve both somewhat acclimated yourselves to Camp Half-Blood’s culture, with you becoming a bit of an oddity as well as local entertainment with the shit you pull to get your dad to look your way. But it was something about the way you were so still under the sunlight that piqued his interest.

And quiet. You were never quiet.

Since you moved out of cabin 11 almost a year ago, his life has admittedly been a bit more peaceful, him finding his groove as a camper and…becoming everything that you’re not. Sure, he’s getting used to calling this place home, but where he shines, you’ve… struggled. Can’t say the same for him though—admittedly his life is kinda great right now.

If you needed a sub for volleyball, Luke’s your guy. Oh no, we need help bringing bushels of strawberries to the kitchens! Luke’s there to help. Someone needs a hand with sparring— there’s no one better than Luke Castellan! The all-star camper, and everyone’s best friend. He’s in talks to become cabin counselor by next year while you’ve had almost every punishment Mr. D can think of giving.

No dessert, shoveling pegasus shit, helping the nymphs on your days off, and the list just goes on. Sometimes you wonder if it’s your father’s way of keeping you busy so he doesn’t have to see you—it’s a miracle you haven’t been disintegrated yet by the god of insanity himself, but perhaps that’s both a pro and con of being his only daughter.

On his way out of his cabin, he stops short a ways away from the firepit, gaze falling upon the red tips of your hair hanging off the chair you lay on (chemically lightened by lemon juice and Kool-Aid you’ve recently learned to conjure). The piercings in your ears sparkle in the warm light—you and a few kids from the Hephaestus cabin pulled them off one late night with sewing needles and apples from the kitchens. 

It’s crazy what you can learn about someone by watching them from afar. Slightly creepy, and kind of concerning, but if anyone bothered to ask, Luke had an excuse for why he was always looking out the front window of cabin 11. The Hermes cabin was directly across the way from the Dionysus cabin, which housed its sole inhabitant, you. 

That in itself is a shitty excuse, he knows that, but… Luke worries. He knows he shouldn’t, but his eyes always subconsciously find their way back to you and whatever trouble you find yourself in—last week it was a pegasi stampede through the north end of the strawberry fields.

Yeah… you didn’t have a good explanation for that one either.

“Shouldn’t you be showing off and saving camp from a chimera, Castellan? Or kissing a baby, or something else super awesome and cool?” you mock, nose crinkling slightly.

He blinks, face falling as he stumbles off the porch towards you, a whisper of a smile still grazing his cheekbones. The sight almost makes you angry, really, and a part of him knows that he’s the bane of your existence. 

How rude of him to be good at everything and good-looking. Truthfully, it made his face very punchable, in your opinion—but the growing list of girls and boys that began to fawn over him after his growth spurt last winter probably think otherwise. 

“Only baby I see here is you,” he mumbles, pulling a chair up next to yours and flopping his dead weight into it, “What’re you doing here pouting all by yourself?”

Your eyes follow his movements and you can’t help but inspect all of him—from the lean muscles that ripple down his arms to the sweat that glitters as it kisses his cupid’s bow. 

He better not dare to kiss me even as a joke, you think, there would be nothing worse than that!

“Trouble? You know you scare me when you’re quiet. S’how I know you’re bothered by something,” Luke nudges your forearm jokingly, hands slightly sticky and smelling like cherries and smoke. His tongue is painted red from a popsicle he snuck out from the kitchens earlier. The sparklers he stole from the basement of the Big House still line his pockets.

No one ever looks twice at the golden boy, after all.

You shrug, kicking your legs under your bottom and staring back up at the clouds that hang overhead. Zeus could strike you down right now and you’d probably thank him. Death by the king of the gods seemed way more interesting than the personal hell of being at Camp Half-Blood you think, sputtering, “What’s it to you? Shouldn’t the camp hotshot have better things to do than hang around someone like me?” But the words feel heavy in your mouth, uncomfortable and clunky as you wet your lips with your tongue and clear your throat. Luke watches your eyes steel, turning away from him like orating a script to an imaginary audience. 

The world is your stage and you feel as if you’re but a performer that has to fulfill an act.

It’s easier somehow like this—to not let your feelings go rogue, or let yourself feel too strongly. All of your efforts have fallen short, despite your mother’s dying vow that these would be the best years of your life. But with one year down, sometimes you wonder if you’d stand a better chance out in the mortal world—hitchhiking your way back down south to the empty house you used to call home. 

Maybe a chimera would get you first. 

Or a hellhound. 

You could probably take a hellhound, right?

A smirk falls upon your lip, freshly bitten and raw and you realize he’s still there next to you. Luke is still watching you silently as his hand taps on the wooden arm of the lawn chair—a nonsensical beat that fills the silence that follows like someone feeling their way around a wound. His contemplation is gentle, even if your expression is festering the longer you sit together.

“You're literally the coolest girl here. Since when did you give a shit about what anyone has to say?”

Your face is stoic, amethyst eyes bouncing down the slope of his face and back up until they meet his that are honey-sweet. 

I CARE! a voice inside you wants to scream. It sounds like a little version of you stomping her foot until someone finally pays attention. But Luke’s eyes are already on your clenched fists and you haven’t made a single sound.

“Since when does Mr. Perfect know how to cuss?” you deflect, and he barks out a laugh, shaking his head yet nodding for you to continue. He knows that’s not what you meant to say.

“I can hardly believe that you of all people here think that I’m cool. I’m kind of a mess,” you try to reason, puffing your chest so that the breath makes your hair sway away from your face. 

“Sure,” Luke says as his chin rests against his arm. He blinks slowly, taking you in almost thoughtfully as he feels out his next words, “But you’re…you.” 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Mischief prances through his features and you absolutely hate the look he gets on his face when he thinks he knows better than you.

Egotistical piece of shit.

Your hand jabs out to shove his, all of his front falling over in a fit of laughter as he catches himself and suddenly he’s too close. Close enough that for a moment, you’re scared he might see right through you.

Luke Castellan is not someone who would ever understand the pressure that you currently buckle under. 

“You’ve got it all, you know? You can do whatever you want, your dad notices you. You’ve already found your glory by just being here… I mean all of us here want tha—” Your fist hits the wall of muscle in his abdomen. It’s haphazard and a cheap shot that probably hurt you more than him, but anger was the first emotion to surface (and you did say he was punchable—next time you’ll aim for his jaw). Luke huffs, slightly winded, though if anything his ego is the only thing coming out of this with a bruise.

“What?”

“What do you mean what, asshole? You think I want any of this?” you laugh coldly, reeling away from him like he’s burned you. Hands to your chest, scalded by his words, Luke is trying to find the misstep in his actions with his mind running miles a minute as he watches your brows furrow and you’re shaking like a pot about to boil over.

“I knew you wouldn’t get it.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, trembling hands doing more harm than good as you throw your stuff into your worn knapsack. This must be your last straw, you think, quickly thinking of your meager belongings packed underneath your bed and a letter to your dad tucked under your pillow. This is your sign to get the hell out of here. But as you’re tugging the canvas cloth over your shoulder, a gentle hand clasps around the straps, and a soft, “Hey, hey…” makes its way towards your ears and the frosty feeling that surrounds your heart.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke mumbles, spinning you to look at him as he sighs. Worry is a familiar feeling he’s acquainted with over this past year of knowing you, “Come on now, tell me. I’m a better listener than I am at speaking, obviously…” He catches the quiver in your lip with a graze of his finger, leading you back to your seat and placing your bag at his feet—making sure you can’t run, and even if you wanted to, you’re unsure of what else you have left to lose. 

“Everyone thinks I have it easy because I don’t let anything break my smile. But I’d rather be anywhere than here. I’m a joke, hones—”

“Don’t say that,” he interjects, quickly silenced by your glare.

“You think it’s all sunshine and rainbows that I see my godrent every day? That what, I’m lucky?” 

Luke simpers, curls falling over his forehead as jealousy clouds his vision. He has a few choice words towards his own father, but surely it can’t be all that bad. Anything must be better than a broken mother and a dreadfully absent father. 

“Hit me with it already, Trouble.”

“My dad loves me because he has to. But there’s no way he actually likes me. It shouldn't get to me that much, even if he hates the parts of me I got from him, but it does. No one here likes me either.”

You don’t know whether you should laugh or cry, opening up to Luke like this. All you know is you haven’t been vulnerable to anyone in a while—the last you tried to talk to your dad about your dead mother left you with more questions than answers.

Trying to gauge the look on his face, you avert your eyes, picking at the peeling polish on your nails as you continue, “I think my father is lonely here in a camp full of children that aren’t his own and almost a mortal lifetime away from his seat on Olympus. He has a wife who waits for the eternity they’ll have to spend with each other. And I’m nothing but a smudge on his timeline— a reminder of a life that he had before saving her. I'm the last thing that holds him back from being happy.” 

He listens. And then he speaks, almost blurting, “I’m my dad’s favorite—or so they say. So he likes me for all the effort I put into being his son, but he doesn’t love me. Not how he should. I can count the number of times I’ve seen him and my mom’s not dead, even if it’s easier to tell everyone that. But I’ve lost her anyway and he let that happen.”

That’s grim.

There are cracks of darkness in the sunshine boy after all. There’s a gleam of angst in both of your stares, daring the other to compete in this little pity party and seeing who would give in first. But neither of you break—shiny fractals of both your experiences blending into an understanding.

A middle ground.

A huff of laughter is released between the both of you, breathy and warm hitting your cheeks as you turn to each other like little kids giggling in secret. Perhaps you are— two 15-year-olds feeling weightless for a moment now that your shoulders shake without the pressures you place upon yourselves, and by this kindness alone, maybe.... maybe this place isn't so bad.

Someone calls out for Luke, figures hidden in the forestline. The moment quickly ends after that, a fuzzy feeling in your chest left behind, ignited every time your eyes meet his. It’s like he didn’t hear anything though, stuck to your side still grinning like you could give him the key to the city.

“If it matters, I like you,” he chokes out, clearing his throat as his eyes dart away from yours. By the time the blush rises to his cheeks your eyebrows have already shot into your hairline in disbelief watching Luke Castellan, camp’s pride and joy stumble over the simplest words he’s spoken all day.

You’re quiet again, which stresses him out more— frantic words ripping through his teeth in a blur of "Um, erm, not like... I mean in the sense that—" and your tongue pokes through your cheek in a bad attempt to stop a smile. You look soft—and thankfully not like you’re about to punch him, finally having the upper hand when it comes to him. Luke blinks slowly, shaking his head— "You're just really cool."

“You said that already.”

He shrugs, not really having anything more to say. The boy is embarrassed enough.

Have you always looked that pretty when you’re smug?

Snorting at his flustered state, you mutter, “Olympus would rejoice the day I be more like you, you know that, Castellan?” And he shrugs playfully, liking the way you don’t press on the topic when you could’ve gone for blood, “Olympus might fall if you teach me a thing or two.”

The warning bell rings overhead and Chiron's voice booms over the speakers— “CAMPERS, MONSTER TECHNIQUES WILL BEGIN IN 10 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY OVER TO THE AMPITHEATER.”

“I should go.”

“Sure. You’re teaching, right? New big gig,” you say nonchalantly as you expect him to leave and probably never talk to you again. You’re used to that by now, and whatever understanding between you doesn’t make you friends.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Oh.

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides, but his feet are planted deep into the dirt, his red Converse pushing the soil beneath him. He doesn’t want to leave. But he thinks that maybe if he had to, he’d leave a place like this for someone like you.

Maybe.

“Monster fighting is more your thing, isn’t it?”

He grins lamely, walking backward towards the woods with his eyes still on you, “You’ll find your thing. M’sure of it.” 

Rolling your eyes, you bend over to pick up your things again, “Yeah, yeah. Like anyone would want to hear me tell stories or do my little crafts.”

“Why the hell not, Trouble?”

Luke throws his hands up in the air before scampering away to join his friends. It's hard to admit, but he's got a point—maybe this is an idea your dad will actually appreciate. A shiver wracks through your body. You find yourself being excited about something to do at camp for the first time in a long time.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer, you think as you trudge into your cabin, unknowingly kicking your knapsack further underneath the bed. You flop onto the bedspread with your notebook out, brainstorming what a Greek Legends and Theatrics workshop would look like. If you can get your words onto a page, you could pitch this to Mr. D by morning. A spark shines in your eye like the glittery glow-in-the-dark stars that hang from your bedroom ceiling.

Hopefully this won’t end in you shoveling pegasi shit.

—

You’re standing at the edge of the dining pavilion, tray in hand as campers bump past your frame, rushing towards their tables to eat dinner. There’s no one at your table but your dad and the idea of proposing the idea of your workshop sounds so terrifying right now that your stomach turns. 

And then there’s Luke Castellan waving you over towards the Hermes table like a madman.

Huh.

You thought being crazy was supposed to be your thing.

He clambers up over the bench, all gangly legs moving towards you until he’s there grabbing your tray from your hands with a smile, “Come on, trouble. Still got a spot at my table. Chris just falls into it before I ever get the chance to call you over.”

You look at him like he’s stupid, your hands on the opposing side of your tray and the both of you are locked in a stalemate in the middle of the pavilion. Curious eyes make their way over to you both, and murmurs of excitement for a fight start to rise. Here’s the thing—it’s something to grab attention, but it being put on you without your control is a bit nerve-wracking, to say the least.

“We're not allowed to mix tables, Castellan.”

“Since when do you care?”

Since when do YOU, you think. Standing between comfort and chaos, your eyes meet your father’s, expectant as he watches you from across the room. There is comfort in the silence that would consume you at your table. You’d be able to eat in peace and hear your thoughts compared to the lack of elbow space at Table 11. Too many of them steal each others’ desserts, crack bad jokes, and kick each other under the table, but it still makes you smile. You choose the chaos instead, slowly making your way over to the Hermes kids who greet you with a loud cheer.

Children of mischief and chaos are like birds of a feather, after all. There is comfort in this madness too—and you think Mr. D almost smiles when his eyes meet yours once more.

You’re crafty when it's something you can fix; painting a picture of yourself that’s cool and interesting for others to see, but in reality, all every teenager wants is to fit in.

Who would’ve thought Luke Castellan was going to help with that?

“One of these days you’re gonna have to put the nice boy act in your back pocket, Castellan. I’m positively dying for the day you reveal yourself to me.”

Luke chuckles over a mouthful of mashed potatoes, shoulder knocking into yours intentionally, though the both of you are thigh to thigh on the crowded bench. You ignore the fact that one of his little brothers steals the cherry off your ice cream sundae, and he ignores the fact that his constant worry for you reveals itself as another, deeper thing—care.

“What you see is what you get,” he murmurs into your ear. Heat creeps up your neck and you look up to see your dad looking at you again, and then— “Hey, hey… eyes on me.” Turning to look at him, his breath hits your cheek, “You’re the only daughter of Dionysus. The only person I know born to be able to raise hell for a god. Gotta use it to your advantage more, Trouble. You’re not here to entertain anyone. You gonna let him win?” he asks.

Blinking slowly, you eat a spoonful of rice, cheeks full but not concealing your smile.

“Where’s the glory in that, right?”

—

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” -Homer

[eraenaa]

Stereotypical (Demi-God AU)

Aemond, Son of Ares x Reader, Daughter of Aphrodite Tag List

Synopsis: The daughter of Aphrodite falls for one of the sons of Ares— the second coming of their parents. 

Warnings:  Mature, 18+, Dry Humping, Semi-Public Relations, Not Proofread

Word Count: 2, 720

It’s stereotypical, you were aware—a whole cliche. But what were you to do when you realized that you were growing attracted to one of the sons of your mother’s past paramours? It did not help that he was the strongest fighter in camp— the most mysterious and illusive Demi-God there. You watch him by the benches whilst you sit and chat with one of the daughters of the Goddess Demeter, Helaena. “You’re staring at him again,” She teased as her fingers twirled the stem of a dandelion whose buds she blew away. You rolled your eyes and shifted your gaze, denying the accusation. “Just speak to him; I’m sure he won’t be as standoffish as he seems.” Helaena hummed, but you shook your head. 

“What are you two talking about?” Aegon, the son of Dionysus, appeared, seemingly intoxicated, even though wine was banned from camp. “No— let me guess,” he quickly said. “I’m guessing… the brooding swordsman? Hm?” He asked you, and you felt color bloom on your cheeks. Were you that obvious? You groaned and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear in frustration. “I do not understand! They… usually fall at my feet, trying to get my attention! But not him,” You complained, making Aegon and Helaena smile in amusement at the expense of your irritation. “Whatever, I’m going for a walk,” You grumbled and stood, trying hard not to let your gaze fly over to Aemond, who trained with a sword. 

You find yourself in the woods, threading closer to the lake where you often stare at your reflection in the water. You took in a deep breath and stared at your face blessed by your mother— the prettiest girl in camp, they say. You attracted all sorts of attention, good and bad, but the only attention you wanted was never bestowed upon you. He denied you of his lone gaze. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” You hear a voice ask. You sighed and cast your gaze upward, landing on Jacaerys, son of Hephaestus. “Hello, Jacaerys,” You say politely. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked, dark eyes hopeful. “I… I’d actually prefer to be alone right now,” You reasoned. Watching his face drop. You sigh; if only Aemond were this excited to be in your presence. “Oh,” Jacaerys said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ll see you at dinner, Jace,” You give him a fleeting smile, and you thank the gods that he actually took the hint and left. You returned to stare at yourself, trying to define which aspect you could improve upon, highlighting them in hopes that it would catch the attention of one of the sons of the God of War. 

“What are you doing?” A different voice asked, a reflection joining yours on the surface of the water. You yelped and backed away in surprise. “Gods, Aemond,” You said as he finally cast his eye upon you. “What were you doing?” He asked once again, leading out his hand to assist you to stand. “Staring at myself,” You mumbled, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he caught you. You hear him scoff, “Of course,” He said and let go of your hand that tingled from touching his. “Best you be reminded by the fate of Narcissus,” Aemond stated. You bit back your tongue; this is what you wanted. He was speaking to you— his attention on you, but now it came; why were you frozen as if you had gazed at Medusa? 

“Do you not have to train?” You asked Aemond as you perched yourself upon a log near the river banks. You watch him take a pebble into his fingers, skipping it on the water. “I’ve just finished,” he said and moved to take a seat next to you. You took your lower lip between your teeth as you felt your shoulders brush, the heat of him reaching you. “What do you think we’re doing here?” You suddenly ask as both of you stare off into the orange sun that reflects on the lake. “What do you mean? We’re here to train. We’re here for protection from the outside world.” Aemond stated the obvious, but you shook your head. “Train for what?” You asked, “A war.” 

“Is there one?” Your eyes locked upon his. “I… I just do not understand why I was brought here,” You confessed as you saw the confusion in his lilac orb. “They say the world of mortals was filled with danger— but mine wasn’t. I was living comfortably— I do not understand why my mother had summoned me if I am not to do anything here,” 

“The gods have a purpose in every action they make— even if we do not understand it,” You hummed at his statement. “Do you truly believe that?” Aemond looked at you with a question once more. “I just… feel like we’re pawns being played here— born to do their bidding. We make the sacrifices; they get the glory.  I just think that the minuscule scrap of recognition they throw is not at all  worth it.” You saw a smirk rising to his lips despite the seriousness you posed. “What?” Aemond shakes his head; you feel him inch his way closer to you. “My sister seems to think that you’re filled with air in that pretty little head of yours,” You blinked at his statement; should you be offended or flattered?

“And do you agree?” You ask, fearing for his statement. Aemond hummed, gazing at your face. It was the first time in your life that you felt insecure under someone’s gaze— the first time you felt fear that someone might not think you agreeable and comely. “I agree with her when she said that you were pretty… very pretty,” You bit your cheeks as his eyes flew to your blushed cheeks and then ever so quickly to your lips. “But, no, she was completely mistaken to underestimate you,” You feel your lips twitch, catching Aemond’s attention. You inch towards him, your desires swirling with your assumptions. Aemond stayed rooted where he sat; he did not lean in, nor did he pull away. When your nose brushed, you hear him take in a harsh breath. “We should head back,” he said and pulled away, leaving you confused and overly embarrassed and rejected. 

You were so close— you took the courage to move first. It was all Aemond wanted— all that he had dreamed of. All his offerings to the gods were for this moment, which was why he was greatly disappointed and infuriated with himself when he backed away and left like a coward. It was too much— it was so much more than he could handle. Ever since you’ve arrived at camp, all he did was try and keep your attention on him. He trained day and night, purposefully choosing grounds where you would pass by. He would relish with each moment that he would feel your gaze upon him. Watching intently as he would fight and show off his skill, hoping that it would impress you. Knowing that it was how his father had caught the attention of your mother. 

Aemond’s eye would fly to you during dinner, you sitting with your brothers and sisters. There was no smile on your lips, unlike the previous nights; you sat limply and played with your food, your cheek resting on your palm as a pout formed itself on your luscious lips. What had he done? How could he subject the most beautiful girl his eye has ever seen to such a sullen state? Aemond dug his nails into his palms. You were the daughter of beauty and love, and he was the son of war and strife. He did not deserve anything so precious and delicate as you. He could only offer you ruin and struggle. The thought of bringing you conflict only fortified his decision to back away. To instead protect you from afar— to relinquish his desires to be with you, to hold you, kidding himself that gazing at you was enough. That simply looking at you had to be enough. 

Days passed as both you and Aemond avoided each other. You, embarrassed by your wanting actions and him, controlling himself from giving in to his desires. You no longer watched as he would impressively train with the sword, and he would no longer silently trail you wherever you went. Aemond only picked specific moments to follow you and made certain that no danger would find you— even though the two of you were in the safety of camp where no danger could reach, Aemond was just simply cautious. 

You traded the lake for the beach. Walking alone on the sanded path, the moonlight shining bright atop the water. Your mind consistently loops your foolish actions, making you cringe at yourself. You called for your mother the other night, trying to find guidance or perhaps comfort, as rejection did not sit well with you. The thought of someone not falling for your charms when everyone so easily did, scared you. She ignored your offerings and pleas, leaving you to face your confusion and fears by yourself, only solidifying your beliefs that you and all the children in this camp were simply pawns by the gods. Expected to answer their call when it first rings whilst they constantly ignore yours.

You sighed heavily, staring off into the sea where your mother was born. Stepping foot into the water, you tried to connect with the woman who disrupted your peaceful, mortal life only to bring you here and ignore you. You took deep breaths, walking deeper into the water, not caring that you were still clothed as you submerged yourself in the sea. Aemond watched by the shore, battling with himself if he should follow. When you disappeared under the water, with each passing second, you did not emerge; it only put forth fear in the bravest demi-god in camp. 

Aemond shook his head and ran to the sea, diving to where you disappeared only to catch you resurface, shocked as you realized his presence had joined you. “Aemond,” You breathed out, wiping away the salt water from your eyes, the boy holding your arm, the waves pushing him closer to you. “What… what were you doing?” He asked, concern lacing his deep, silky voice. “I wanted to swim,” You reasoned, hoping that the water would clean you from embarrassment and shame. You feel his eye grow downward, looking at the clothes you fashioned. “In your night dress?” He asked, the silk fabric thin, the cool water clinging to your body. “It was a spontaneous decision,” You mumbled, your gaze shifting away from him as your cheeks heated. The both of you floating in the sea. 

“Why are you here?” you asked, realizing that he had gone in the water, fully clothed as well. You met his eye, the sapphire orb shifting around. His thin, pink lips parted as he tried to find a reason. “I… I—“ You bit your lip, as you had never seen him so flustered. The most fearsome son of Ares is at a loss for words when faced with the prettiest daughter of Aphrodite. 

Aemond stayed silent, only the crashing of waves reaching your ears. It took a while for the both of you to realize that you floated in each other’s arms— the past events of the other day returning to your mind, both making you conscious. “I’m sorry about the other day,” You whispered as you saw it best to address your actions in order for the both of you to forget it and your mind to free you from the torment of your idiotic presumption. “It was wrong for me to assume… I have misread your intentions and made you uncomfortable; I apologize.” You say sincerely. 

You hear Aemond sigh, the waves pushing your bodies closer together, his breath fanning your face, your scent invading his senses. “You did not misread anything,” He admitted. Making your brows furrow. “I… I wanted you to kiss me, wished for it for a while now.” He confessed with a small smile, trying to lighten the tense air with his rare but charming smile. “Oh,” was all you could say as you tried to comprehend his words. “Then why… “ you trailed as you had trouble wording out what had transpired in the lake. Aemond sighed, and you stilled as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, flushing your bodies together as the both of you floated. The moonlight lighted your face, illuminating his silver hair as well as your milky skin. “I got scared,” He admitted, daring to cup your cheek. Your skin was soft against his calloused palm. 

“You? Got scared? The favored son of the god of war got scared by the prospect of a kiss?” You asked in confusion, resting your hands on his shoulders. You hear him let out a small chuckle. “I was only frightened because it was you who I would be kissing,” He stated, caressing your cheek. “The most beautiful girl I was ever blessed to see… now, I hope you’d understand why I panicked,” Aemond smiled as the blush on your cheeks deepened. You set your gaze downward, staring at the water that sparkled under the silver light. Your heart stilled when you felt Aemond place a finger under your chin to raise your gaze once more, finally having the courage to place his lips against yours. 

Aemond wanted to be slow and cautious, to not frighten or pressure you to succumb to all his desires. But as a sigh left your throat when your lips finally met, all restraint he had disappeared. Pulling you impossibly closer to him, making you wrap your legs around him, letting your arms cling to him. Deepening your kiss, his tongue asked for entrance, which you were hesitant to give but relished the feeling when you did. Aemond’s chest rumbled with a sound as you accidentally nipped his lip, enjoying your mistake that only fueled his desires further. 

You pulled away from him, suddenly feeling cautious as the both of you were being so intimate in such an open space where anyone could see. You tried to speak reason, to speak caution that the both of you may be caught, but as Aemond placed his lips on your neck, kissing it and leaving his marks, you no longer had the capacity to speak. Pleasure freezing your mind at the new sensation. Aemond hummed as he heard your heavy breathing, your sweet taste mixing with the salted water as he indulged in the feel of your skin. Aemond closed his eye tightly as you, who had your legs wrapped around his torso started to move your hips. Squirming as you felt urgency for something you were yet to know consuming you. 

Aemond’s hand moved downwards from your waist to your bottom, cupping them and aiding your movements that sought for friction. You let go of a shaky breath against his lips, your eyes looking deeply at his sapphire eye that turned dark and glazed with deeper desires and restraint. “Aemond,” You whimpered, filled with anticipation of what was to come. You ground your hips further, making him utter a foul word and turn his head to the heavens. Aemond moved one hand to cup your cheek, bringing you closer to kiss your lips once more. “I… I— Aemond,” was all you could utter as you were uncertain what the sensation was building inside you. It was sharp and urgent and pleasurable— an odd mix. “Are you to come, my pretty girl? Hm?” Aemond gritted as his hips met yours. He bent his head down and placed a kiss atop your chest; his head felt light at the whimpers of his name that your mouth spewed. 

“Aemond!” You shrieked as all finally fell, your body feeling alight as you came at the sensation of riding against the boy you had desired for long. Aemond gritted out your name as he, too, came, spilling himself in his trousers. You hummed as he kissed you again, tasting him and the sea that was witness to your desires and pleasures being fed. 

Sequel: Jealousy, Jealousy

[estell-allary]

APHRODITE’S BANE

Relationship:romantic

Pairing:Clarisse La Rue x fem!aphrodite!reader

Warnings:fighting,mentions of blood,reader getting injured,swearing pls tell me if I missed any<3

A/N-this is my first time writing,also this is just a fluff about Clarisse and you loving each other AND you are like the past Aphrodite the fighter and warrior that she truly is,not this soft weakling that people preseve she is just because she is the graceful goddess of love~(it is also 00:30am and this is heavily inspired by the song Salvatore by Lana)

Shocked.That’s what you would say you (and most of camp half-blood) were when you found out that your mother-Aphrodite-claimed you,especially in the middle of capture the flag! No it’s not because you’re not pretty-hell your one of the prettiest girls in chb,but because everyone was sure you would be claimed by ares or even Athena.

Everyone had no doubts to you being one of there children because you were strong,quick witted, intelligent and understanding you also had an undying loyalty towards the ones you loved, but after you were claimed people started to relate you to your mother more-or well who your mother used to be,Aphrodite Areia.

When you were unclaimed you would hang out with the ares kids and a few other people,but there was only(not even)a hand full of people you talked to in the Aphrodite cabin-them being piper,livia,Valentina and silena

I mean you were only claimed a few weeks after you arrived at camp half-blood that being in that years game of capture the flag..that’s also when you met her.Clarisse La Rue,honestly you didn’t really think of her to be all that before the incident,sure people told you to stear clear of her because she was a bully and would not hesitate to flush your head down a toilet,but you just saw her as a normal teenager who had anger issues.

You’ve only been at camp half-blood for 3 weeks and the date of capture the flag was today,everyone has been preparing and training extra hard for a few days now and you still haven’t even found out who your godly parent is yet,tho everyone’s already assumed who they are,ares or Athena,because your a natural for sword fighting and one on one combat or because you are wise and patient-most of the time.

You were placed on the blue team with the hermes cabin until your claimed same goes with the rest of the unclaimed kids,Chiron did his speach and then the red team let out this loud monstrous war cry that made you flinch,“um Luke,is that normal”you asked in a hushed voice to the black haired boy that was standing next to you “yep,they do it every year,don’t worry you’ll get used to it”he pated you on the shoulder biding you goodbye as the blue team departed.

Stumbling through the woods trying to get to your spot was..difficult to say the least let’s just say you got lost a few times,when you finally get there you lean back against a rock,it was smooth and rough at the same time,just right.You could feel the sun levitating off of your now warm skin,this was sure to give you a light tan.

‘Catch me if you can,working on my tan Salvatore’

You heard a twig snap behind you and you quickly jumped up and grabbed your sword,turning around to see no one,“hello?..”you said confused but keeping up your fighting stance “annabeth?..Luke?” You called out knowing annabeth was close by but Luke wasn’t you were just confused…that was until you got tackled to the floor by non other then..someone? it was a boy and he smelt vile but you had no time to think about that before you panicked and slashed your sword at the side of his amour and flipped him off of you before quickly getting up and taking a step back.

He lunged up and swung at you but you quickly dodged and bolted for the woods, running,in hopes he would head for the flag instead of following you,but he didn’t..it was strange he was going after you and not the flag, “ow!shit!” You cried out as you were tackled to the floor again this time with him stabbing at your amour.

You pushed yourself backwards and kicked him in the stomach sending him back a few meters,you jumped up again and so did he this time you lunged at him stabbing at his chest but he kicked your legs out from under you and pushed you back making you fall of a small ledge and land on the small,damp rocks of the beach.

‘Dying by the hand,of a foreign man,happily’

He jumped down on to you and held his sword to your neck,he was about to open his mouth to say something but you kicked him in the shin making him fall and his sword pierce your skin,not enough to properly injure you but just enough to draw blood,he yelled out as he hit the damp rocks “ah!you bitch!”you both got up again and started clashing your swords together “why the hell are you still trying to fight me!”you grunted out.

Before he could respond you heard yelling and both the blue and red team came running out the woods the blue team with the red flag,the person holding it was annabeth but she faltered for a few seconds seeing that you were is a fight.

Then you caught her eye,for the first time you both looked at each other and gods she was gorgeous.Clarisse La Rue.

But you got distracted.“HEY!”luke yelled out as the boy stabbed with full force at your chest.

‘Calling out my name in the summer rain,ciao,amore’

You huffed out a breath,gasping for air as you grabbed the end of his sword cutting your palm and two of your fingers but kept your grip on it strong,you raised your foot and kicked the boy in the stomach making him stumble and lose his grasp on the sword.You threw the sword into the water and just as he was about to punch you,you grabbed his fist and flipped over above him landing behind him (thank god for you being able to do gymnastics)

Just as annabeth got the red flag to the post you punched him in the back making him fall on his front and he stayed down..OH GOD YOU KNOCKED HIM OUT!!

You looked up panicked and everyone was staring looking shocked at yo-..wait why were they looking above you?You looked up and gasped,

“Wha-?”

Suddenly you were tackled into a hug by silena who was laughing “oh my god” you heard annabeth say,your gaze went from Silena to Annabeth to Clarisse..she was looking at you with a puzzled expression before saying the thing that everyone was thinking, “how the fuck are you a daughter of Aphrodite?”she said your eyes grew wide before you furrowed your brows “HEY!are you calling me ugly!?”you yelled out looking offended even tho you were thinking the same thing.

“Well no bu-!”Clarisse started before she was interrupted by Chiron “Aphrodite areia..you take after your mother’s original origins from being a warrior”he said with a kind smile on his face.

“Well that’s enough for today everyone go get some rest get fixed up and carry on with your day!”Chiron declared.

A/N:sorry that there was like no Clarisse x reader in this I promise there will be way more in my next one this one was just a tester btw😃

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Sorry for breaking your window to get in here but since where already on the topic of B & E what about Clarisse x Daughter of Hermes where the Hermes Cabin and the boys from the Ares cabin started a prank war with each other and Clarisse is PISSED because she gets getting caught in the crossfire and when reader breaks into the Ares cabin to set up a prank but she accidentally wakes up Clarisse.

- it’s all fun and games -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Hermes! Reader

An - i feel like I don’t use AN’s properly but who cares also my ao3 series is almost finished also I cuss way to fucking much I mean damn 😭😭 irl I say fuck every 3 words dude I have a problem

An Pt 2 - I Hope thus is good I’m going through a rough writers block rn

For the entire summer. The entire fucking summer clarisse has been dealing with everyone’s bullshit.

Her brothers had for some reason started a season long war with the Hermes cabin. Probably because over some girl which she honestly found pathetic, even though deep down she would do worse if someone tried shit with you.

So here, clarisse currently found herself looking in shock with her cabin floor covered in Greek fire ash marks. Annoyed she mentally came up with a punishment for later. Deep in thought she hadn’t realized you were behind her for cabin check up.

You let out a soft breath before gently hitting the open door. Clarisse turned around, her face going from anger to flustered.

“Hey” she stumbled slightly on her words.

You shyly waved. “Cabin check?” There was a moment of silence, just enough for you to notice the mess behind her. “I can always lie— I know how my brothers get” you tried to offer a better solution than failing the check.

Acting like she was Un-phased she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault. Shouldn’t have to cover for them ”

“Well I’m just trying to help” You chuckled, the gap between you closing quickly.

As much as clasisse complained about the summer there was still one good part, you. Flirting at every bonfire turned into spending free time together which eventually lead to you both kissing at the end of last night. “I guess I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yeah” she shrugged. It was cute how she tried to play off her embarrassment. Reaching out you fixed clarisses necklace, Making it symmetrical on her body. With a sarcastic sigh you looked back at the Greek fire stains before looking back up at her. “I’ll come back in an hour that work for you?”

“Yeah id really appreciate it” she smiled softly.

You wished you were an Aphrodite girl, able to leave a room with beauty and want. Instead you left almost to quickly, embarrassment fueling your steps. By the time you reached the last step your face felt hot, and your body felt fuzzy. She was going to be the death of you.

———

“I’m not doing that” you cocked an eyebrow up as your brothers proposed another prank.

“Just this once” Connor practically begged. Walking past Chris smacked him upside his head, the prank they were trying to get you to do? Sneak into the ares cabin and cover it in silly string. Their reasoning for having you do it was because clarisse wouldn’t kill you.

“If she doesn’t want to do it she doesn’t have to” Chris sighed, taking a seat on his bunk.

Your brothers however couldn’t handle that as an appropriate response. Whispering to each other you saw their faces turn into a devilish grin. “Fine” they started off with false security “You don’t have to do it, but we can always tell Chiron about the secret green plant business you help the Dionysius and Demeter cabin run”

Giving them an agitated look you stood up and snatched the silly string out of their hand. “Fuck you” they always found a reason to black mail you. The trick was starting to get old.

It wasn’t until 12am that you snuck into the ares cabin. Coming in through the window you were a little worried about what a cabin full of war kids would do if someone came in. Looking back one more time to see your brothers giving you a thumbs up from afar.

Calming your nerves you took the first step inside. Silently spraying the string the stale chemical smell hit you like a truck. A few kids tossed and turned, the fear of waking one up made you work faster.

Shoving another empty can into your bag you pulled out the last one. The only section left was clarisses. The section you had been dreading of doing. Silently walking over you caught a glimpse of her drooling in her sleep. You wished your had a camera to capture the rare moment. She was beautiful, even in her most vulnerable state. Snapping out of your thoughts you remembered you had a job to do.

Stepping back with a heavy heart your foot sunk into a loose board, a loud creaking sound filling the room. It was less than a second before you felt a harsh hit to your face and your body on the floor.

Not really paying attention to your surroundings with ringing in your ears. The lights came on and a pair of strong hands grabbed the side of your arms. A few kids were shouting and in the background you could almost make out the front door opening.

Coming back you felt blood trail down your face from your nose and clarisse looking guilty at you. Her hands squeezing your arms as she couldn’t say anything. You groaned and held your head back exhausted.

Being moved to a bed you were barley able to understand what was happening in-front of you. In the background both cabins were yelling at one another, it felt like a fight might break out. Clarisse was crouched infront of you trying to asses your now broken nose. You could tell she was starting to loose her patience.

At first you didn’t hear anything. The ringing went away however when clarisse slammed her spear on the ground commanding the attention to her.

“ENOUGH! Everybody who is not my sibling get out now! And to everyone else I want a first aid kit some ice, nectar, ambrosia, and i want this cabin cleaned now!” A strong silence filled the room before the ares kids got to work. If looks could kill the Hermes cabin would had dropped dead. “Whatever you all have going on ends now understand! Im sick and tired of dealing with all of your bullshit and Luke you need to get a better control over your siblings!”

They nodded. Not even Luke wanted to speak, he just whistled his sibling’s out. In less than five minutes you watched as the cabin almost cleaned itself. In less than five minutes clarisse had began gently trying to bandage the broken bone, trying to take some pain away.

Helping feed a bite of ambrosia you felt your nose begin to mend on its own. Though it would still need a week to heal. Letting out a sigh of relief you finally looked up at her, up at Clarisse who was acting like a coward.

“It’s not your fault” you tried.

“I broke your nose, seems like my fault”

“And you thought I was an intruder it’s not the end of the world” you sighed grabbing her hand. It didn’t matter who was at fault it just came down to how it was handled.

She looked like she wanted to speak but she just couldn’t make the words. “If you really want to make it up to me you can always ask me out on a date” Looking up through your lashes you swore you saw her cheeks turn red.

“Y-yeah I can do that” trying to play it off but it was too late. You giggled slightly, leaning forward to close the gap and softly kiss her. Feel her rough lips against yours.

Her hands found home on your torso, traveling up and down while pulling you closer in an attempt to deepen it. Breaking away only for a moment clarisse looked over at her siblings who some stopped cleaning.

Barking orders at them to continue she looked back with a sarcastic expression making you laugh.

Laying down beside her on the small bed you looked deep into her eyes, not wanting to say a word. It felt like every emotion you two had felt for one another was known.

Giving her another soft kiss you tucked your head away into her neck. It didn’t take long to fall asleep and shockingly for the ares cabin, when the lights were out and everyone was asleep there was a peaceful quiet. One that comforted and lulled a person into a deep sleep.

[philokaliist]

'Pretty Girl'

Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfAphrodite!Reader hc's💗

A/N:Felt like doing another one of these so here we are

So I feel like Clarisse La Rue with a daughter of Aphrodite as her girlfriend is a total power couple. Like, picture this – they totally clash with their godly parentage, but opposites attract,right?

I feel like Clarisse would call you 'princess' or 'pretty girl/thing,' just to tease you a bit, you know? And she deff calls you out for your lovey-dovey stuff, but secretly she LOVES it when you surprise her with flowers or write cheesy notes,even if she may not show it - but she does love it.

So I feel like she would totally be the protective one in the relationship - for obvious reasons - like no one messes with her girl. If anyone dares to flirt with you, Clarisse would be ready to throw a punch, no doubt.

I feel like Clarisse would have this tough exterior, but deep down, she's a total softie for you. Like,you'd have these secret moments where you just chill and talk about your day, and it's the cutest thing ever. She may not admit it, but she loves those moments.

She deff calls you 'angel,babe or princess' because, well, she's a daughter of Ares, and you're her partner in crime.

And when you fight side by side in Capture the Flag, it's like a power duo – Clarisse and her girl taking down anyone in their way - well,mostly Clarisse,but still.

I feel like she would lowkey enjoy doing little romantic gestures, but she acts all cool about it. Like, she might get you a small heart-shaped necklace, and when you thank her, she'd be all like "Yeah, whatever, it's just a dumb gift." but she'd secretly bite back a smile.

Clarisse would totally be the one to initiate sparring sessions just for the heck of it. Like, "Let's see if your lovey charms can protect you in a real fight, Princess." But deep down, she knows you can hold your own, and she respects that.

I feel like she'd have this signature battle cry, and whenever you hear it, you know Clarisse is coming to kick some ass.

She deff has a soft spot for your handmade gifts, like if you craft her a bracelet or something. Clarisse may act all tough, but she treasures those things like they're made of gold.

So I feel like Clarisse would totally get jealous if someone else challenges her in the arena. Like, she's the top dog, and no one should even think about taking her spot. But she'd secretly love the fact that you're cheering her on.

I feel like she'd have a nickname for you.And when she uses it, you know she's in a good mood or trying to lighten the mood after a tough training session.

She deff appreciates when you notice the small details about her, like the scar on her arm or the way she ties her hair back.It's like you see past the tough exterior,and Clarisse finds that pretty damn special.

Honestly, Clarisse would totally have a soft spot for animals, especially if they're cute or fluffy. Imagine her trying to act all tough while secretly petting a camp kitten - it's a sight to behold - and she'd love it - especially if you owned a pet(even better if it was fluffy.)

I feel like she'd be the one to surprise you with impromptu dates, like a late-night stroll around camp or a picnic under the stars.Clarisse may not say it out loud, but those moments mean a lot to her.

She deff loves challenging you to physical competitions, whether it's a race or an arm-wrestling match. It's like her way of bonding, and she secretly enjoys the friendly competition between you two.

I also feel like Clarisse would totally have this protective vibe when it comes to sharing stories about her past. She may act all tough, but she trusts you enough to open up about her struggles, and that's a big deal.

I feel like she'd be a bit possessive, like marking her territory, especially in public. If someone even looks at you the wrong way, Clarisse would be quick to put them in their place. It's kinda hot in a protective, possessive way, you know?

She deff calls you "Gorgeous" in the heat of the moment, especially when you're alone and no one is around to witness her softer side.

Clarisse would totally get jealous when other campers compliment you,but she'd never admit it. Instead, she'd just glare at anyone who dares flirt.

She deff calls you out on spending too much time in the mirror, but deep down, she appreciates how you always look stunning – even in the middle of a war.

A/N:That's all for now.Made this while in class because I got bored of it

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * love grows (where my rosemary goes)

warnings: implied nudity, sex jokes, most quotes are direct from the tower of nero so credits go to uncle rick!! pairing: apollo x goddess! daughter of aphrodite and ares

two weeks. if you counted the time he was gone it would have been more but he was alive then. now he lay silently… and you anxiously wait. artemis places her hand over your free one in comfort

“he will wake up soon”

it was utterly ridiculous. you were a goddess, an immortal goddess yet you still worried about the waking of your also immortal husband. regardless the tears brewing in your eyes, threatening to pool out

“why don’t you grab a snack? take your mind off things”

“no,” you shake your head “I need to stay here”

the hunter goddess sighs and stands, patting your shoulder. “well, I will get you something”

the silence returns to the room. you look around at your surroundings (that you had got quite comfortable with over the past two weeks), a white marble chamber, a columned terrace with a beautiful view of olympus and the intoxicating scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. it was something you grew to hate and yet love. you hated it here because all you could do was sit in sorrow and wait for your beloved to wake from his two week slumber. but you loved it. you spent every day, every night here and you despised it

you sigh and look up to the renaissance painting adorned ceiling. you nearly shed another tear but a squeeze to your right hand stops you. or it leads all the tears to pool out. that’s a story for another time. you snap your head back down to where your husband lays— you see him stirring and his eyes flutter open. you don’t know what to do first; to cry, to scream, to hit him, or hug him. apollo chooses the third option for you. then the both of you break into a sob, holding each other tightly like maybe if you let go one of you would disappear into thin air

“you are such an idiot” you breathe out and you hear the sun god laugh in response— it made you realize how dearly you had missed the melodic laugh of his. or how every room he would walk into would be taken over by melodies instantly, every sound now a beautiful composed tone to it. reluctantly you took a last whiff of his scent and pulled back, yet still unwilling to let your hands leave his.

“how long?”

“what do you mean?”

“how long was I out? what century is it?”

you processed this question. maybe because you wanted to laugh but that would’ve had to stay as something only you knew

“since you fought python, only two weeks have passed”

you expected many different reactions after this statement but the one that hadn’t dared cross your mind was the chosen surprise. apollo jumps up from the couch and throws the sheet to the side, standing fully nude before you. your cheeks redden and you studiously admire the ceiling once again

“what about my friends? they’ll think I’m dead!”

“your sister sent clear omens of your success. they know you’re back on olympus. now would you please put clothing on?”

you hear apollo’s euphonious laugh again. “nothing you haven’t seen before”

“apollo!” you warn. and just as you asked you can feel a breeze from his wishing clothes onto himself. you return your head back down before standing up with a wide smile “thank you”

apollo wraps one arm around your waist, the other hand going to brush your pink cheek before placing a kiss to it. “you’re happy”

“you’re awake”

he places a kiss to your lips now. slowly and un-rushed. but everything good comes to an end eventually

he doesn’t go far, lips still brushing against yours as he speaks, “am I need somewhere?”

“yes,” you frown “but do you think you could stay here a bit?”

“as long as you want”

[calliopeslyrics]

the wonder of you

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Ares!reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: none :)

summary: capture the flag is a big deal to you, too bad luke keeps trying to distract you.

_

There’s a scent of fear and something stronger in the air when you step foot onto the field, your armor clad body already sweaty under the sweltering summer sun. Everyone is mingling, talking amongst their teams though the snippets of conversation you caught were about anything but Capture the Flag.

Army….monsters….Kronos

There was something else on everyone's minds these past couple of weeks, the lingering anxiety over a war that was supposedly brewing unbeknownst to anyone in Camp Half Blood and Mount Olympus. The oracle had given a cryptic prophecy, though the exact words were lost within the translations from story to story depending on the camper you asked.

Some of the Hermes children had heard that there was a host body that was slowly resurrecting the titan king himself, slowly gathering bits and pieces of bodies in order to resurrect his body. Mr. D was quick to shut that rumor down, threatening the next person who spread another rumor with a month’s worth of chores.

Other children of Apollo theorized that the oracle was not speaking of a war but another sibling rivalry between the gods, the kind that had Zeus throwing tantrums in the form of thunderstorms and Poseidon flooding cities out of pure pettiness. The only son of Poseidon was also quick to shut that idea down, claiming his own dreamless nights as proof that the gods were fine and didn’t need help.

Regardless of who you asked, the unspoken worries were evident - a war among the gods was brewing. A shiver went down your spine at the mere thought of fighting a war with these campers - most of them too young to even drive yet but not young enough to wield a sword, to kill and die for a taste of glory.

A horn sounded and both teams roared in response, clanking their weapons against their shields in response to the horn. Beside you, Clarisse clanged her spear against the ground, the familiar crackling of electricity stemming from the tip. A gift from your father, the god of War, though lately his true colors had been showing.

Ares had been silent these past couple of months, hiding away from the prayers and pleas of his children for Gods know what. It wasn’t unlike him to be absent in his children’s lives but this type of silence was worrying, especially for the god who loved to taunt. The Aphrodite cabin had the same trouble, and the only common theory both cabins could come up with was that Ares and Aprodite were swindling together. 

But days turned to weeks and when the weeks turned to months, both cabins suspected there was something more sinister happening. Ares was never at the forefront of a battlefield, but he was always present when a fight was happening. And if he wasn’t showing up for the brawls within Camp Half Blood, you could only guess what bigger fight your father was preparing for in Mount Olympus.

The sound of Chiron’s monotonous voice pulled you out of your worried thoughts. It was the same as every year, with him repeating the rules of Capture the Flag and putting emphasis on the no maiming rule with a pointed glare. Your team murmured in response, unhappy with the calling out of who was responsible for last year’s punishment. Though it was partially your fault for targeting the new kid from the Apollo cabin, Chiron’s rules were the last thing on your mind.

You’ve been having vivid dreams for the past couple of days - dreams that felt so real you were unsure if you were living through them or not. No one knew of them, not even Chiron or Mr. D. You weren’t sure why you were hiding these dreams from everyone, perhaps in fear of what exactly your dreams entailed or in fear of what will happen after they’re revealed.

A battlefield stood before you, barren yet the wind that blew past you sounded eerily like the clanging of swords against shields. If you listened closely, you could hear commands being shouted in ancient greek. The ground was stained with the blood of men who were born and died long before Camp Half Blood was founded - when wild men and beasts fought on the same land.

The land before you came alive, the ground soaking with blood as the sound of shattering bones and groans of agony echoed throughout the space. Somewhere above you a vulture circled the air, hissing in warning. Everything within you was warning you of something - a monster of some sort, maybe from the depth of Tartarus.

Bones rattled around you, bodies with missing bones and parts forming into a legion. Skulls found a spine which found femurs and humeruses. One by one, soldiers stood in formation until an army of the undead was complete. A soldier clad in armor stood before you, armor polished and muscled body - a general of some sorts or maybe someone higher in command. 

Primal fear coursed through your body as he glowered down at you, shadows casting over his face. You knew who he was, what this person was capable of doing. Scars littered this body, deep slashes and shallow cuts adorning along the arms and legs of the soldier but the face was completely clean - as if no one could come close.

The lord of bloodshed, the curse of mortals incarnate, the god of war - Ares.  

You kneeled before your father, bowing your head slightly to the ground in greeting. He barely glanced in your direction, an acknowledgement and dismissal. ``You’re not ready,” he said gruffly, smoke puffing out of his mouth. You scrunched your nose in distaste at the cloud of smoke, the smell of burnt cigarettes lingering in the air. 

Ares was never much of a talker, more of a man that spoke with fists and blood than words. Violence was his specialty, as it was with you and Clarisse and all of your half blooded siblings. But still, the bluntness of his words never ceased to have you stewing in a bad mood for the next few days and you found that you’ve inherited his harsh way with words.

“You’ve ignored me for so long, what make you think I’ll listen to your opinion of my readiness?” You scoffed, a little too boldly for your father’s liking. You stayed on your knees, though you raised your gaze to the god of war. His jaw clenched and his hand curled into a fist at the disrespect, but he didn’t strike. 

Ares ignored your question, hardened eyes gazing past you. His focus was somewhere else, analyzing the battlefield with the gaze of an experienced general. Centuries of war and bloodshed flashed through his face - regret, anger, pain flickering in his eyes.

You’ve never seen your father experience such emotions in a short amount of time. He was always hot headed, with a clenched jaw and sharp tongue that often got himself in more trouble than he could handle. But he was never remorseful, never apologized for what he said or did or hurt. 

“I know when my soldiers are ready,” he said, voice laced with the sternness of a general. You tried to mask your face with a mask of boredom, though his words stung. Soldiers, not children. Even after being claimed you could never get your father’s approval, not even after all this time.

Still, you were your father’s daughter - you’re stubborn and hot headed and brash. Backing away from fights was not your strong suit, so you stood up on your own accord and straightened your back. “I’m ready,” you said confidently, maybe too confidently for someone who loses sleep over nightmares. 

Ares barely gave you a passing glance, a half scoff escaping his lips. More smoke filled the air and burned your lungs, but you didn’t complain. Ares didn’t like whiny losers.  “You’re weak - worthless,” he grunted, the grip on his spear tightening. The muscles in his arms bulged at the slightest movement, and it took every part of you to avoid staring at the deep gashes along his biceps. “Not even close to reaching your potential.”

You scowled at his words, at the cold bluntness in his tone. Never in your life had someone speak to you that way, with such little interest.  “I’m not sure I’m following…” you said, daring to glance away from your father. The vulture at his feet stared at you, its beady eyes staring deep into your soul and very being. 

“The greatest warriors didn’t need an extra push from their parents to be as great as they are now,” Ares  said gruffly, . The soldiers behind him didn’t even budge from their positions, unfazed of the dispute before them. Maybe their physical forms were present but they needed directions in order to move, as if they were nothing more than puppets for your father to use as he pleased.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. You didn’t like how Ares was speaking to you, like you were benched for your lack of participation. Sure, you haven’t gone on an extreme quest to gain greatness in a while but you’ve been beating your own record at target practice with all the weapons available. 

“Achilles was training under Chiron before he fought in the Trojan War,” you pointed out. You remembered Chiron’s bedtime stories to the younger campers, of all the heroes he’d trained centuries ago. The Athena cabin had hosted a trivia night a couple months ago, and the Ares cabin had gotten a decent amount of points in the Ancient Battlegrounds and Armory topics.   

Ares rolled his eyes at the mention of the Greek hero. It was clear his grudge against the Greek army still hadn’t faded away even after all these years. “And then he refused to challenge Hector because he was too cowardly to fight,” he added snarkily, disgust evident on his face.

You searched your brain for more heroes, more stories that had victory in some sort of way. Death, failure, cursed forever, there weren’t many, and you hated your ancestry for that. “Didn’t Heracules have multiple trainers?” you crossed your arms. You had also recalled the countless stories of Greek heroes Chiron had drilled into your heads. 

Ares clicked his tongue, as if he suddenly remembered the name. You are sure that he didn’t even remember your name, though you tried not to think negatively about the deity before you. “Ah, was that before or after he slaughtered his family and cowardly ran away from his actions,” he tilted his head, glaring down at you with the same beady eyes as the vulture. He shared the same wild look in his eyes, the patience to wait for death to strike his prey.

A shiver ran down your spine, though you held his stare. You wondered if he could sense the confusion and hesitation within you,or if he counted it as fear. If they both made an adrenaline course through your veins, did it really matter? 

Did this conversation even matter? Slight annoyance surged through you, at this useless dream your father decided to join. He’d been silent for so long only to come back and talk about how worthless you are. “Why are you telling me this? What’s the point?” you asked, exhaustion evident in your tone. You supposed having a war of attrition with the god of war wouldn’t go well on your part. A small part of you knew that your father thought the same.

For once, Ares didn’t scoff or roll his eyes at your question. He seemed surprised at your question, as evident by the slight raise of an eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t used to being questioned, or maybe he expected more of a fight from you. “Every hero has a weakness. It’s inevitable.” he said sternly. 

You faltered. Was that what this was all about? Weakness? A small pang of hurt echoed in your chest - did Ares think you were that weak? Was he so concerned about your mortality that he had to warn you to be extra safe?

“I don’t have a weakness,” you huffed, crossing your arms stubbornly. You prided yourself in handing out more punches than receiving them, especially when sibling rivalry peaks during competitive seasons. “Achilles had his heel and pride, Heracules was a coward, Jason was unloyal. But I’m not like them - I’m better-” 

“You’re not,” Ares interrupted, his spear crackling with power. You stared at the sheer power your father held, even in his mortal form he still exuded raw power and authority. If this much power made your body tremble, you could only imagine how Zeus was. “But I don’t want you to be exploited,” he said. 

You faltered at his words. Ares cared, in his sick and twisted way, about you. He didn’t want his own kin to share the same fate as the reckless heroes from the past, not when he has greater expectations. Something like pride swelled within you - the same pride that killed Achilles. “I won’t let anyone close enough to exploit my weakness.” 

“Keep it that way,” Ares nodded in what seemed like approval. You wondered if he would ever utter the words I’m proud of you in his lifetime, or if this was as close as you would get. You didn’t bother asking, not wanting to push your luck with your father. 

With a click of its beak, the vulture took to the sky, circling you from above. Ares turned his attention to the army of dead soldiers and gave them a salute. The soldiers saluted back and turned to their heels, slowly walking back into the very dirt that had buried them for centuries.

The smell of smoke and burning flesh burned your nose and lungs, but you could still sense Ares somewhere. He wasn’t gone yet but he was leaving, just like that. Panic swarmed your head, he couldn’t leave not when he’s been missing for weeks now. “Wait! Don’t go!” You called out, taking a step forward. Your foot stayed stuck in the dirt, keeping you in place as you struggled to walk towards the god of war. “Please! Don’t leave!”

The desperation in your voice must’ve been evident because Ares turned around, giving you an almost sympathetic look. It looked equally as intimidating as his war face, canines on display and wild eyes staring right at you. Perhaps it wasn’t a look of sympathy but of mercy, the kind you give to a soldier choking on their own blood on the battlefield before ending his misery. 

“I’ll be back when you win,” Ares promised. His spear crackled once more in response before he disappeared completely, leaving nothing but giant footprints in his place.

A hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts, and you jumped at the sudden attention. Beside you was your half sister Clairesse, her shirt sleeves rolled up to her shoulders to prominently display her tanned arms. Her muscles flexed with each movement, her casual movements turned into threatening actions.

“You ready?” Clairesse asked, her eyes practically glittening with excitement. She had also had some dreams, though hers were more promising. Apparently Clairesse had seen your father and promised him victory for today’s game. Ares gave her no response, but the determined look in your sister’s eyes gave you confidence for today’s game.

You nodded, schooling your face into a look of confidence despite the sweat that slipped down your face. Gods, you hated the heat more than the miserable cold that winter always brought. You tried not to think about Ares’ words to you - when you win. Another giant weight on your shoulders, as if this wasn’t enough. “Did Dad give you any sign this morning?” you asked, glancing over at your team. 

There seemed to be more campers this year than any other - a sign that Chrion took as the Gods accepting more of their children into their lives. While some demigods were excited to be claimed, others were weary of the sudden change of heart of the once negligent Olympians. You didn’t complain, though. The Ares cabin had been thriving with the influx of newly claimed siblings and as a result, your team seemed bigger than it was last year. 

Clairesse shifted her weight from one foot to another, the only hint of nervousness she’d show. You took her silence as a no and moved your attention to your armor, double checking each strap and handle to avoid the awkwardness of the conversation. 

The children of Ares were never good with their words, preferring to show their emotions through physical means regardless of how lighthearted the emotions really were. It was as much as a gift as it was a curse, and you could only blame your cowardly father for granting you emotional instability as part of your heritage.

Your armor was strapped tight, hanging onto your body as the worn leather burned in the sunlight. It was centuries old, scratches and slight holes denting through the front layer, though you doubted you’d need the protection. The center of your leather plated chestpiece spray painted red, as if your team’s intimidating aura wasn’t enough to indicate which side you were on. 

Across from you was the opposing team, their leather armor marked in blue as they stood in perfect formation. They were always the more organized team between you two, thanks to their team leaders that kept everyone in shape just for this moment. Amongst the crowd of young campers, you could spot Luke standing front and center, flanked by Annabeth Chase of the Athena cabin.

You could see the girl point to her temple, giving Luke a knowing smile and nod of approval at something he had said. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Luke in his armor, his helmet barely covering his face that you knew had a determined look. He always took Capture the Flag as seriously as any other child of Ares and Athena, always determined to prove himself again and again as the best swordsman and maybe something more.

As if sensing your stare, Luke glanced over Annabeth’s shoulder, a small smile creeping onto his face as he caught your gaze. You flushed at his gaze but blamed the heat. Luke was more of a headache to you than a friend, though he was one of the older campers that was more similar in age to you than anyone else.

You smiled back at Luke, cracking your knuckles in response and pointing at Luke in case he didn’t get the hint.  Luke chuckled, his helmet shaking slightly at your threat. A sense of pride filled your chest at making Luke break the character of the serious camp counselor of the Hermes cabin, a feat only few could claim as a success. 

As usual, the Aphrodite cabin was in charge of leading the opponents frontline men away from the flag, taking them as far as they could before raising suspicion. Those who could charmspeak or change appearances were spread out within your ranks while the others followed their head camper’s lead towards your fake flag. 

Your cabin, the Ares cabin, was on the front lines, as always. Armed with magic weapons and a madness that could only happen during the heat of battle, the children of Ares were always theIf anyone could get past the Athenan and Hermes children. The brutes of Cabin 5, you called yourselves with pride. 

Clarisse glanced over at you, smirking at you as everyone got into position. Her spear crackled with electricity, the prominent tip glowing in warning and promise of pain. “Don’t get cold feet now,” she teased, her voice full of confidence. Her eyes seemed to glow with excitement, the mere thought of knocking down campers without repercussion always gave the children of Ares more of a reason to look forward to this event - this time even more so.

Today was a big deal, both to the reigning champs of the previous years and the reigning losers of your team. Today, you’d turn the tide, claiming victory over capturing the flag for the first time in three years. Your cabin needed to win, you needed to win. The Ares cabin needed to prove themselves worthy of your father’s attention once more after that embarrassing loss the year before to the huntresses of Artemis. 

You remembered the way your father ignored every prayer and offering sent to him, how the Ares Cabin became the laughing stock of camp once your siblings started to lose at even the most basic camp games. Capture the Flag, sparring exercises, even sharpening your weapons seemed to be a harder task than usual.

You knew your role, it was the same one as last year and the year before that - find Luke and prevent him from advancing. It was easier said than done - children of Hermes were always the first to race across the map, quick and nimble on their feet. And you knew Luke would lead his group towards your side of the forest, using his winged shoes to give him the advantage of speed.

The sound of a horn sounded for a second time - the final warning before the game would start- and you sucked in a small breath as you heard the distant rumbling of your siblings and teammates racing to their positions. While Clarisse and the rest of the more aggressive demigods cut a clear path to the blue team’s site, you’d take a detour towards Luke’s site and keep him distracted until your team claimed victory.

Easier said than done.

Without a second to spare, you sprinted towards Luke’s direction, following him into the entrance of the forest. He was already way ahead of you, zig zagging through the trees and brush as you ran behind him, laughing mockingly at your speed. The fluttering of his winged shoes trailed ahead, almost a distant sound until you could catch up - another rub in your face at your slowness.

Luke’s red Converse was the only thing you could spot, a red blur that left you constantly looking around. Gods, he was fast. One second he was straight ahead then he was cutting left through the lake, his voice echoing from one side of the forest to the other.

You huffed at Luke’s speed but continued forward, your feet carrying you as fast as you could go towards the red shoes. Your armor bounced against your body, clashing against your own sword as you gained speed towards the bright red just up ahead.

Right as you approached the lake, you frowned. There was silence, an eerie emptiness surrounding you as if there was no one around. You held your breath, waiting for the flapping of the winged shoes to appear for you to follow once more, but the only other sound that accompanied you was the water gently crashing upon the shore. It was as if Luke was never there, the sand and rocks beneath your feet undisturbed save for your footprints.

A branch snapped somewhere behind you and you whirled around, sword in hand as you scanned your surroundings. There was no way Luke led you to a separate area, an alternate plan to the one your team had created. You grit your teeth in annoyance, blaming Annabeth Chase for thinking of a way to counter your plan. 

Another branch snapped on your left and you turned around again, your sword humming to life at your growing annoyance. This couldn’t be Luke, he wasn’t the type to stalk and hide his opponents. Whoever this was, they were treating you like prey, as if you were the lesser one in this fight. If you couldn’t get a hit on this person, your heating sword would at least throw this person off your trail for a bit.

The next thing you knew, you were tackled to the ground, rolling into the lake with the attacker. Their arms wrapped around your back, holding you tightly against their body as you thrashed against their hold, cursing in Greek with every breath you could get out. You exchanged a series of punches and kicks with your attacker, both of you hitting the hard ground with each tumble you took until you finally landed into the water. 

With a grunt, you lunged at the person, revenge the only thing on your mind. You toppled over the person, gripping their neck and giving it a threatening squeeze with all your strength. You didn’t care much for the rules, not when this punk - whoever they were - decided to embarrass you during your hunt.

“If I knew this was how you’d react to getting tripped, I would’ve done it sooner,” the culprit crooned, and you sneered at the amused tone of their voice. This had to be one of the Stoll brothers, you’d know that annoying tone anywhere. With no gentleness, you tugged their helmet off, not caring that your nails were basically scratching at their face. It’d be the least of their worries once you’re done with them. 

Instead of meeting the gaze of one of the annoying Stoll brothers, you stared at Luke Castellan - your biggest headache in all of Camp Half Blood. With a scowl, you tossed Luke’s helmet at his face, ignoring the way your heart pounded wildly at his carefree smirk as he caught his helmet with one hand.

Gods, if he were some other camper they would’ve gotten a beating from you just for talking to you like that. But Luke? He was the exception, always. You don’t know when he started to be the only person you could tolerate, maybe it was when he first beat you at the sword fighting arena, maybe it was when you landed a blow to his face the first time you fought and he laughed at the bruise that formed days later. 

All you did know is that he was just another person that annoyed you and maybe even a friend.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for that move, Castellan.” you warned, letting your hands drop to your side as you rose from the water. He only gave you a roll of his eyes and grinned at your words, as if he knew that he’d always be off the hook when it came to you. Without another word, you searched for your sword, hands searching along the shore at your feet for your blade.

Besides your quick temper, the only other gift you had gotten from your father was a sword that grew hot with your mood. It was efficient when you were in a bad mood, which hardly happened when you were teasing Luke during the games. He was your weakness, and a small part of you hated yourself for having one in the beginning. 

The greatest heroes never had weaknesses, you told yourself. You reminded yourself of your conversation with Ares -  Achilles, Hercules, Jason. They were arrogant and disrespected the gods. You were better than that, better than all of them combined. You had to be.

“All’s fair in love and war, right?” He smirked as he rose from the water, carefully wringing the water from his soaking curls. His armor and clothes clung to his body, giving you the exact shape of his arms, his chest, his everything. You bit the inside of your cheek from saying stupid and turned your attention to your missing sword.

It must’ve fallen from your grip while you were tumbling along the shore, humming somewhere beneath your feet. You felt the warmth of your blade and let out a small sigh of relief when you finally retrieved it, your blade slowly cooling with your mood. You’d have to clean it once you got back to your cabin, you thought more to yourself as you shook some of the water off of your sword. Maybe the Hephestus cabin can help with that, you thought bitterly.

“Too bad I don’t love you then,” you replied smoothly, wringing the water out of your hair. You tried to ignore the soaking feeling of your clothes sticking to your body and the added weight to your armor. Love was such a strong word, the most similar to your most commonly said word hate. Was all truly fair in love and war, even after everything your own father had gone through for the goddess of love?

Luke stayed silent, as if he didn’t have a response for once. You both let the drip, drip, drip of the water fall from your clothes, filling the silence. For once, you didn’t mind the quiet. There was something comforting in it, like you both didn’t need to say anything in order to keep each other company. 

“You realize we’re the only ones here because our teams are trying to get us together, right?” Luke said, hands on his hips as he wrung the water out of his own clothes. You tried to ignore how close his shirt was to his torso, clingy desperately onto his toned chest and arms. Luke’s own cheeks flushed, whether from the fall or your attention you didn't know, but you didn’t comment on it.

You shrugged, huffing out a disbelieving laugh. You’d suspected that your teammates were up to something when they started to push for you to take a path on your own instead of leading your own unit like usual. But when Clarisse brought up that you wouldn’t need the campers to find Luke, you agreed. It seemed like a good point at the time but looking back, you could definitely see why she was so pushy to get you to go on a separate route where only Luke would be.

“What are you trying to say?” You asked, raising a brow at Luke. You busied yourself with the straps of your armor, checking the already tied straps for imaginary tears and rips along the fabric. Your hands shook at his words, at the implication of what he’s saying, at what your teams are plotting for both of you.

There was no way Luke caught onto this plan before you, not when he’s busy tending to claimed and unclaimed children most of the day. Not when he’s the first person to rise in the morning and the last to go to bed, going as far as to wish you goodnight while you finish your nightly workout. Not when his spot is always beside yours during the campfire sing-a-long and volunteers to be your partner during sparring lessons.

There was just no way, you told yourself. Luke is a headache, and nothing more.

As if he was reading your thoughts, Luke gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes at him. He was so annoying, with his stupid smirk and disarming laugh, but a small part of you didn’t mind that it was always directed towards you. 

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” he asked with a huff, cheeks reddened at your obliviousness - or was that from the heat? The more you teased and talked to Luke the more the lines blurred between you two. Did friends always make your heart skip a beat, especially when they made eye contact with you?

You shrugged, not trusting your own voice to carry an air of nonchalant when you didn’t even feel relaxed. The last thing you needed was to give Luke another reason to poke fun at you until you turned red.

“Go out with me,” he said softly, eyes full of hope. His teasing tone was gone, even his smirk was completely wiped. For a moment, you saw Luke’s true feelings, his mask wiped from his face for once - completely vulnerable and utterly smitten for a daughter of Ares.

You hummed in response, your own heart pounding wildly at his words. Was this what you wanted to hear after months of pining and teasing, of lingering glances and touches? You knew the answer, you knew what you wanted to say so badly. 

But the game came first, you needed this win before you could do anything else in your life. There’d be no point in trying to live your life if Ares didn’t acknowledge you again. “Go out with me, what?” you asked, desperately trying to stall for time. Your team should’ve gotten the flag already, so why are they taking so long to come back?

“Please,” he breathed out, wasting no time by playing along. Your heart skipped a beat at his willingness to ask so softly and sweetly. Luke was too good for you, always the first one to lend a hand and the last one to ask for something in return. 

You didn’t know how to phrase the words I’d like to. Everything within you was made to destroy, crafted with bloodied knuckles and never ending bruises. You were not sweet by any means, hardly like the smooth talking Aphrodite cabin or the eloquently spoken Apollo cabin. You were everything everyone hated about Ares, more fluent in violence than anything else.

But if Ares could find solace in the laughter loving goddess even if his scarred hands were harsher than her softened ones, you supposed you could find solace in Luke Castellan too.

Somewhere in the distance, people screamed in victory and a horn sounded. The thundering sound of weapons clanking against shields came closer and closer. Among the trees, you could spot a blue flag held up high as surrounding campers cheered and barked in celebration. Your team had gotten the flag - the Ares cabin had redeemed themselves once more.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched your half siblings celebrate in victory. Among the already forming crowd was Clarisse, electric spear in the air as she let out a war cry. The campers with red painted armor followed her cry and raised their own weapons in the air, the sound of dozens of demigods yelling out echoing throughout the forest.

“Ask me that tomorrow,” you said softly, fixing your gaze back to Luke. The softness in his features were replaced with confusion, his brows furrowing and a small frown tugging at his lips instead of his smile. It took almost all of your willpower not to laugh at the sudden change of his expression.

“Tomorrow?” he sighed in disbelief, defeat in his eyes at your statement. You nodded, amused at his deflated look. He looked so small like this, his personality completely different from the carefree and easy going guy that strolls through camp. It didn’t suit him, you wanted him to smile again, to give you that love stricken face you mistakenly took for teasing. “Don’t play with me, just answer the question.”

“I believe you’ll be busy with kitchen duty tonight,” you said with a smile, nodding towards your team. Clairesse was still waving the stolen flag in the air with the echoes of cheers surrounding her. Right behind your team, Annabeth looked defeated, rubbing at her face as she talked to Percy Jackson about who knows what. The son of Poseidon glanced over at you and Luke and gave you a thumbs up, as if he were also part of this plan. You didn’t doubt it.  “So ask me again tomorrow.”

Luke smiled at your statement, newfound hope gleaming in his eyes as you made your way to your siblings. They roared in excitement, lifting the flag and some hitting their helmets against yours in celebration.

You laughed for the first time in a long while, a new sense of freeing happiness and excitement washing over you. There was something new in the air, at least between Luke and you, and it was a four lettered word that started with the letter L.