#stories of the forgotten demigods | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slu7formen · 6 months ago

Note

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

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batdiangelo · 7 months ago

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🫶🏻🫶🏻

I’m glad you enjoyed the beginning I can’t wait to see your thoughts once you read the rest !!!

Fic writers supporting each other is such a good idea too we should all be uplifting each other here and helping!! A list of fic recs sounds like a lovely idea

Also anon ily ur taste in fic is phenomenal!

Hey have you heard of “stories of the forgotten demigods” on ao3? It’s by someone named DeadAlex !

The story is pretty interesting, if you haven’t heard of it.

I have!

I don’t read a lot of fic for fandoms I’m currently writing for, just while I have stuff in the works, but I did check it out and based on the beginning it’s very intriguing!

It’s definitely on my “to be read when Little Camper is finished” list! :>

(That list is, by the by, short rn so if anyone has fic recs feel free to send an ask)

((maybe we can make it a regular thing/compiled list to support fellow fic writers? I think that would be fun))

#I did help I’m good at helping #I was so happy to help too!!#percy jackson #Tysm aah #pjo #stories of the forgotten demigods #little camper #also anon you have taste #little camper and SoTFD? taste

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northlt03 · 8 months ago

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PJO in general is just so sad and we don't really talk about it??

Tell me the stories of two demigods, Roman and Greek who grew up together knowing there was something different about the two of them, how they could see monsters no one else could, how they could do things that no one else could. But that's okay, bc they had each other.

Only to discover they couldn't have each other forever. Somewhere they had to part ways bc it wasn't them against the world, it was the world against them!!

And one day while fighting on Mount Othrys, the Roman demigod just gets this ache in their chest, a heavy sort of feeling and they know, they just know. A memory of a friend long forgotten just bubbles up. A friend that was dragged away by a fawn, someone they hadn't seen in years.

Tell me stories about heroes who went on quests, who's godly parents didn't care about them in the slightest bc before Percy Jackson came to camp, that's how it usually was. And how they were so close to their goal, so close to completing the quest they were tasked with, and yet they fail, fall, die trying because that's what a demigod is supposed to do.

In their last moment, they pray to their godly parent. No one helps them, no one will remember them.

Tell me stories about the children of the big three before the pact. A child of Zeus erratic and energetic, never one to stay in place, literally buzzing with excitement. A child of Hades who animated small animal bones to make puppet shows for their friends, who shook the very earth they walked on along side their friend. A child of Poseidon who was unpredictable and wild, everchanging, but always coming back to their two friends.

Tell me stories about how one by one all three of them die.

#percy jackson annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #percy pjo #percy jackson show #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percabeth #percy series #pjo #heroes of olympus #rick riordan #hoo

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 3 months ago

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Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 1

MASTERLIST

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Summary: Tasked to hunt the demigod Messmer by order of the followers of Miquella the Kind, your purpose strays from theirs, creating a destiny you plan on executing.

A/N: I've only just started playing the DLC, but this will diverge from it and keep to a different story. One of dual pain, hardships and connection.

Your build is based on the samurai, with a nagakiba as your weapon.

Outfit: Skeletal Mask, Confessor Armor, Preceptor Gloves & Legs

A03 link

Chapter 1: Consumed

It started with a simple task:

In the name of Miquella the Kind, find and destroy Messmer the Impaler.

A task so simple that even you believed that it could be given to one of his devoted followers. It had been Leda, the Needle Knight, standing vigilant in front of Miquella's cocoon state in Mohgwyn Palace, who had tasked you with stepping through the veil to the Realm of Shadow. She spoke of the great destiny that led you here, guided by faith. Though vague in her directions and quest, you obliged, thinking not much about what you had to do.

Like the plague, it began with the whispering of his name.

It was the mutterings of those you vanquished - his soldiers - donned in grey and onyx - spoke his name like a curse not to be spoken. The encampments were scattered across the lands, a fire that burnt hotter than any flame you had seen before. His was brighter, bolder, harsher, casting hate and cinders to those in its path.

You witnessed it in those who survived the crusades. It was seen in those who stumbled from crushed and burnt buildings, still smoldering as they moaned and wandered. It had been utter torment to give them mercy, for it should've been given first-hand by the tyrant himself.

What was Messmer if not a monster? If Miquella had any chance of dealing with him, how could you handle him? It did not matter what you thought; being Tarnished meant your thoughts were long forgotten and ignored. You were restless and weary from travelling, staying up as you stared into the golden hues of sites of Graces littered across the lands, thinking of what you must do.

The Shadow Keep was an ashen yet mighty stronghold, and it didn't take much to get through its walls.

When you first caught a glimpse of the portrait that stood high and mighty in the main plaza the man himself, it had been broken and left with part of his face not visible. Torn down from the aeons, you couldn't help but notice the faint outlines of red hair that could be seen where it had been razed. It had only left you in greater agitation, grumbling to yourself that you had to deal with another redhead.

"This fucking family."

The Shadow Keep was a maze itself, with winding corridors of endless shadows and abyss. You trekked through many floors, handing fire knights as you passed until you made it to the one thing you were both loathed and pleased to see. The golden hue that encased the site of Grace in front of you told you one of many things; death loomed just in front of you. And from the site, laid the heavy doors, your path awaiting.

You camped for as long as needed, contemplating why you had decided to do all this for a demigod you did not care so much for. Miquella and the majority of Marika's children schemed, plotted and hated one another, what would one Tarnished solve?

Feeling a sense of acceptance to it all, you stood, heaving the heavy doors open as you were swallowed into nothingness.

The room was large enough, that you could only sense from how far you walked through, with no sight of Messmer anywhere. It was only when you saw the soft glimmering of embers begin to grow in size that you realised candles were being lit on their own. You marveled, before a voice cut through the stillness of the room.

"Mongrel intruder."

It stung to be spoken to like that, only did you feel your chest clench, your hand instinctively going to your scabbard, gripping it and holding your position, ready to strike if attacked first. No noise nor attack came, and when you looked around your surroundings, clearer to see through, you turned to meet the gaze of a serpentine, staring curiously back at you.

"Thou'rt... Tarnished, it seemth," the voice seemed surprised, though there was a toll of tiredness to the richness of his voice. It reverberated through the throne room and your hammering chest. "Mother, wouldst thou truly Lordship sanction," the snake pulled back from you, retreating away as you caught sight of who it was going back to, "in one so bereft of light?"

From the shadows, a throne stood, and with it, the man you were looking for.

He was larger than you imagined, slowly rising from his seat as he staggered towards you. His long arms swayed as did the two winged serpents attached to him, wrapped around him like vines. Everything to him was red, his hair, clothing and snakes, deadly and intense. "Yet... My purpose standeth unchanged." His voice was a soft timbre, albeit twisted with spite.

From his hands, came a swarm of flames, smouldering and blazing just as they did all before. You could see your hanging body through them, a vision of chaos and destruction that awaited if you did not do anything. But he loomed over you even from a height, raising his flaming hand like a trophy to behold, his other hand gripping the daunting spear with ease. "Those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death." The fire burnt in his golden eye, raging as fierce as him, full of hatred for something like you. Impure, stripped from grace, "in the embrace of Messmer's flame."

You weren't given much of a chance to pull forth your nagakiba, for Messmer had lunged high into the air, embued in flames as he spear in hand, slamming down into the ground. You had a few seconds to roll out of the way, as when he landed, flame and spears burst forth, nearly catching you by the cloth of your armour. Ash and cinders burnt into your nostrils, with no time to retreat as his spear reached towards you with such speed that it didn't seem possible.

You rolled again to avoid his swift movements, getting caught in the final jab that caught you in the thigh. You hissed, blood sizzling, your grieves soaked with blood and fraying with burnt ashes. You took some more jabs at you, one to your side and the shoulder as you tried to stay as close in range as possible, attempting to swipe at him before he could stab back at you. He immediately took a more defensive stance and avoided your cut. You sheathed your blade, waiting for him to lunge before you leapt forth, unsheathing your blade and landing a blow he could not avoid. It seemed impressive in the seconds, a hiss drawing from his lips, eye burning furiously down towards you when his spear thrust in a flurry, giving you no time to revel in your small victory.

The heat that rolled off him had left no air to fill your lungs, leaving you panting and struggling. It had caused him to believe he had the upper hand, advancing towards you ready to strike when you rolled further back from him. When you were far back enough, you pulled forth from your pocket the grease you had found many times in your travels. The freezing grease burnt through your gloves as you applied it to your blade, shining in contrast to the barrel of flames being thrown towards you.

You rolled but you got caught again, crying out aloud as Messmer charged towards you, hand out as if ready to grab you. With enough time, you swung your blade down, catching him by the exposed flesh of his thigh and moving out of the way before he could grab you.

With his back towards you, you swung again, hitting him against his armour and once more to get him to move away from you. You could hear the snakes hissing in pain with him, making you wonder if they shared his pain.

Messmer pulled back, fire against ice, leaping to the air as he in time when he landed, you landed a heavier blow. The sound that came from him was garbled, stopping to look down at his arm as he jumped backwards. It had been just a win to stagger him backwards, knocking him to his knees, his spear thudding by his side. The grease had gotten him so good that it left him bleeding, but his pride had not been broken, only strengthened.

"I will not suffer," he gasped, wisps of red hair floating through his serpentine helm. "A lord devoid of light." When he stood, it was slow, painfully slow. But something had awoken in him. He may have been part God, but he was still part man, a broken man at that, tired from the throws of his mother's war. Behind his throne, stood a statue of a woman, clutching to her chest a babe swaddled in cloth. "O mother, forgive me." There was a strain in his voice, defeat heavy that laid on his shoulders.

You didn't know what he would do next except destroy you further in body and soul, but when he paused to reach towards his face, did you realise what he was doing. His eye was not real, a seal to keep something within him away. Unleashing it would would not stop anything, and draw further misery for you to deal with.

Don't let him do this. A voice in your mind was frantic, screaming at you to do something as you watched his hand draw closer and closer to his eye. Your panic rose like a wildfire in your chest before you could even realise what the words you were saying were.

"I yield." Your adrenaline was fading fast, panic pumping swiftly in your veins. You needed to say it louder, louder for him to hear before it was too late. "I yield." This time, there was a trace of defeat laced in your screams. "I YIELD!"

It had been enough to pause the Impaler from his actions, his seeing-eye peering back at you with as much surprise as you did for him. Neither of you spoke, the sounds of your heavy breathing danced along the large room. You realised in that moment from the way he was glaring at you that it wasn't that he didn't hear you, but that he wanted you to repeat it. You crumpled, your shoulders slumped, and your voice had a soft timbre. "Messmer... I yield." To further keep to your word, you threw your katana backwards from you, holding emphasis on your words if he ever did believe them.

He didn't answer you at first, and his eerie gaze had left you feeling more ill at ease than intimidated. Hatred, fascination, intrigue? It was hard to decipher what he was thinking.

"Thee wisheth to surrend'r when thee hath raised thy blade at me?" His words startled you out of your thoughts, his voice a hiss of venom and mocking you. Your peripheral caught his two serpents, intertwining around their master like a shield, hissing lowly into the dimly lit room in warning.

"It was hard to explain myself when you were already lunging at me!" It was a pathetic reason, and Messmer knew it as much, still as if ready to rip his eye out if you didn't give a good enough answer. Tarnished like yourself were never given the time of day for a reason. The blade was always swung first before you could ask questions, nor for a reason to side with them. A lonely life, even surrounded by others like yourself, you knew it wouldn't matter to the kin of Gods if you sided with them.

"Thou art not the first tarnished to enter mine own halls, nor the lasteth," Messmer uttered, the grip on his spear was daunting as you stared both down. "Wand'ring through mine own keep, wishing for mercy and boons? Bid me, which foul being hath sent thee here?"

This was your only chance to explain yourself, and even still, you could end just the same as his enemies, spiked up for all the world to see of his terrors. "I've come to warn you. Miquella is up to something-- his followers told me to come here, to hunt you. I know nothing of what he's doing or needs, but it involves killing you."

It was at that moment that you truly sounded foolish, not knowing what Leda had tasked you with. Why did she need Messmer dead if she could not task herself or another to do it? And why did it involve Miquella?

The air around Messmer grew in confidence, and he looked all the more like a God painted in crimson. "So he sends a decoy to distract me whilst he plots?" His lips twist into a small smirk, though he looks still bored by it all. You can hear your own breathing as Messmer moves towards you calculatingly slow, his intimidating body twisted from his curse.

His voice was a mere whisper at his next words:

"Tell mine own broth'r and his devotees I shall has't their heads or I shall has't their loyalty. "

You were too taken aback by the presence of him so close to you now, concentrating on his words that you didn't notice the presence behind you fast approaching. Something smacked you in the back of your head so hard that your world spun. Your helm nearly fell from your head, but you had no time to react to it when the ground was meeting you.

Quick to the ground, you fell to a knee, trying to pull out a dagger on the person behind you, before another pair of arms grabbed you, twisting your wrist back as a scream so vicious left your broken body. Your dagger was knocked from your hand, landing inches from the demigod's feet. Messmer simply watched as his fire knights seized you, dragging you up as you writhed and struggled.

This was it, the end of your attempts and to be an enemy not just to Messmer but to Miquella for betraying him and Leda. Death had seemed to be the only you wished to welcome in these moments rather than face their wrath.

"Add her to the gaols," he spoke, spinning on his heel as he slowly walked away from you, "perhaps our guest shall wisheth for some blessings."

And so, you screamed for him, screamed for all the anguish, the misery and pain of being tarnished, lightless. The weight of something once again smacked you against your head, this time a straight blow to the side. You groaned, darkness dotting your vision as the last thing you saw was the sight of crimson, as deadly and beautiful as his flames.

A/N:

I realised I can't write fight scenes to save my life.

#messmer the impaler x reader #messmer #elden ring messmer #messmer x reader #messmer the impaler #elden ring fic #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #tarnished! reader #elden ring #messmer the impaler fic

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thornnii · 5 months ago

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⎯ ☆ calico critters

genre: fluff wordcount: 1.4k pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader tags: daughter of hypnos!reader (she/her), same au as ‘my girlfriend’, established relationship, technology doesn’t attract monsters, tw for talk of food & eating summary: percy knew she didn't really like the cold but he was hoping that a little gift would help bring a smile to her face. notes: I'm english so it felt weird to write calico critters, but it just felt more appropriate for the story for some reason ?

↳ return to masterlist

a chill wind permeated throughout camp as the various demigods that braved the outdoors found ways to keep themselves warm and moving. however most, those [reader] deemed sensible or sane - as sane as anyone at this camp could be, were tucked away inside. [reader] herself was in her cabin watching different video essays from youtube that piqued her interest. it was growing close to the end of lunch time and clovis was still gone, [reader] however had expressed that she wasn’t hungry and although clovis had attempted to convince her to join him, he knew it would be a waste of time trying to convince his stubborn sister.

[reader] had barely noticed the passing of time, her noise-cancelling headphones allowing her to block out everything around her and immerse herself in the video she was watching. that was why she never noticed the knocking that came from the door of cabin 15. it may have only just begun or it may have been going on for a minute.

percy felt like cursing his innate need to be polite for his girlfriend. it was cold and windy, and he’d forgotten a jacket when he left his own cabin earlier. after a minute or so of intermittently knocking on the door, percy decided he was going to have just open the door himself. he opened the door slowly, calling out [reader]’s name as he entered. it didn’t take him long to see why his knocks had gone unanswered from the headphones, to [reader]’s hunched posture over her laptop.

cautiously, percy stepped round to be in front of [reader], not wanting to startle her from behind. the movement in her peripherals caused [reader] to look away from her laptop, the sudden, to her, presence of her boyfriend causing her to jump slightly, blinking owlishly at something that wasn’t a pixelated screen after hours of being on youtube. “w-what are you doing here?” her voice was hoarse after not really speaking since she’d woken up, stumbling as she threaded the words together.

“you missed lunch,” percy said matter-of-factly. “so I brought you something.” percy pulled out a small tupperware container containing a sandwich and a bunch of grapes. upon seeing the food, [reader] began to feel hunger grabbing at her. she took the container from percy with a quiet mutter of thanks, taking small bites of the sandwich.

“how are you doing?” percy asked, only receiving shrugged shoulders as a response.

“I dunno, alright I guess. been watching video essays.” [reader] gestured to laptop screen which showed a youtube playlist of video essays on a multitude of different topics; the video that had been paused upon percy’s surprise appearance was titled ‘The Internet is Turning its Back on True Crime’ by Shanspeare.

“true crime?” percy raised an eyebrow.

“it’s interesting.” [reader] countered.

percy just shook his head with a sigh. he’d experienced [reader]’s stubbornness the hard way before and knew how fruitless it was to try and further the dispute. instead he reached into the big front pocket of his slightly baggy hoodie. “got something else for you too.” he eased a hand through his curls.

that caught [reader]’s interest. ‘what else could percy have?’

slowly he pulled out a little plastic bag, the ‘Calico Critters’ logo printed at the top and a group of the baby characters gathered at the bottom. the top was already slightly ripped open, and [reader] eyed it suspiciously. percy noticed the look and explained: “yeah, sorry about that. I wanted to get you a specific one so I had to check what was in there. took a couple of tries to get the right one.” (actually percy bought roughly $30 worth of the blind bags and definitely got some looks from the cashier and his mom, but if it ended up making [reader] happy percy was willing to spend his entire allowance.)

[reader] took the bag from percy’s hands, opening the gap at the top slightly wider and tipping the critter out into her awaiting palm. from the bag, a small black cat baby slid out. it fell face first into [reader]’s hand and she was quick to toss the now empty bag onto the bed beside her before gently picking up the tiny baby figure. soft black fur was wrapped up in a pastel yellow smock, the inside of its ears were pink under the black fuzz. at this point [reader] couldn’t hide her smile as she carefully stroked the baby's cheek with the back of her finger.

all percy could do was look on admiringly; at how [reader]’s eyes shone as she inspected the tiny animal, at how sweet her rare smile was, at how she cradled the baby in her hands. percy was getting lost in thoughts as he sat on the floor, lovingly gazing up at his girlfriend. it was [reader] that abruptly broke the silence.

“this means we’re parents now.”

now it was percy’s turn to look confused, until [reader] continued; “this is our baby.” she held the little black cat out to him, and now understanding her words, percy smiled along with his girlfriend.

“yeah. but if this is our baby that means we need to name it, any ideas?” [reader] took a moment to think before announcing decidedly: “star.”

“star?” percy parroted back, testing out the name.

“yeah, she’s got black fur like the void of space, and yellow is associated with the colour of stars.” [reader] explained.

“star it is then.” percy agreed.

standing up, percy stretched his limbs, sighing in satisfaction when he heard several cracks of his joints. choosing to ignore the muttered ‘ew’ that came from his girlfriend at the noises, he planted a quick kiss to her head and moved over to the cabin window just after the end of her bed. pulling back the thin cream curtains, percy craned his neck to look up at the sky above the camp. the dark skies from earlier in the day seemed to have mostly cleared and the winds had slowed down. “do you want to go outside for a walk?” percy asked, turning back to face [reader], stifling a snort of laughter at her disapproving expression. “c’mon.” percy came back over to her, taking the hand that didn’t hold star in his own, pulling her off the bed and leading her to the window. “the weather has cleared a bit and we could use it as an opportunity to show star around camp.”

“okay.” [reader] agreed, still not totally sold on the idea but enjoying the thought of spending more time with percy and their new child. [reader] was still in her pyjama trousers and camp top, so she handed star over to percy and went on the hunt for a jacket. she found an oversized jumper in the pile of clothes at the end of her bed and slung it on. percy held an arm out for [reader] and with a giggle she took hold of his forearm, resting her arm in the crook of his elbow.

stepping out of the cabin into the brisk afternoon air, the pair started off on their slow stroll, pointing out the different landmarks of camp to star as the passed each one. as they continued to walk, the skies continued to clear up, the weather warming up even as the wind continued to nip at their cheeks. the two walked aimlessly around for about an hour before they headed back to cabin 15. percy sat down on the bed first before pulling [reader] to sit with him. [reader] pulled her laptop into her lap like before and disconnected her headphones from it, playing the video so they could finish watching it together. having missed the beginning of the video, percy whispered multiple questions in her ear about what was going on, [reader] whispering answers back as if they were at a cinema and didn’t want to disturb the people around them, even if the only other one with them was star.

in percy’s warm embrace, it didn’t take long until [reader] began to feel tired, slumping in his arms and resting her head on his shoulder. the sight of his girlfriend being able to fall asleep so easily in his embrace made his heart swell and a blush creep onto his cheeks. pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, percy moved carefully to close [reader]’s laptop and move it to the end of the bed, then carefully placing star onto [reader]’s bedside table before shifting to sit more comfortably against the headboard of her bed, making sure that [reader] was still laying comfortably on his chest.

#thornnii’s fics #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #daughter of hypnos!reader #fluff

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batdiangelo · 4 months ago

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solid answer haha

Rate SoTFD out of ten

Uhm I'd have to say SoTFD is definitely a 10/10 for me

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo ocs #stories of the forgotten demigods #writing #heroes of olympus #my percy jackson ocs #percy jackson oc

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batdiangelo · 4 months ago

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Dionysus and/or Dionysus kids headcanons? If you do that, but it’s worth a shot:)

YES I LOVE DOING THIS, I HAVE SO MANY. thank you sooo much for this question dez!

okay so, Dionysus definitely cares about the campers and the camp itself.

It shows when he heals Chris Rodriguez from the bout of insanity, it shows when he grieves for Castor and asks Percy to look after Pollux.

I like to think his kids also care like that

they care so deeply for their close friends and family that it hurts sometimes

Dionysus can't show it normally anymore because he's seen so many hopeful kids get their spirits crushed.

he's also seen them die. countless times.

if gods could dream, Dionysus would be plagued with haunting nightmares.

Dionysus kids are really good with plants, but not as good as Persephone or Demeter kids

They're also the type of people who say "I listen to anything!" for music and they mean it.

They have the best outfits. Sorry, cabin 7, but their fits slay, hardcore.

that being said, Specifically Pollux has TERRIBLE style.

My OC Grayson's style is definitely also bad, he dresses similarly to his father (oof)

Dionysus leaves shirts and stuff in the cabin and somehow his kids are stealing them and wearing them better than him

He doesn't know where they get the style from

The cabin has all the best quality "Slime tutorials" of your favorite musicals. You do have to take some chores off their camp chore list to get the footage though.

can and will rant to you about Gender being a social construct while wearing clothes typically associated with the opposite gender

Grayson is genderfluid, and so while he definitely prefers masc terms and whatnot there are days he goes all out with dresses and skirts and he literally slays

Castor will definitely go all out with a skirt, but dresses are a different story.

Dionysus secretly encourages his kids to break the gender normality.

Dionysus is definitely also a hands on dad, He tries so hard to be there for his kiddos before they reach camp age

in my story, the twins are at camp as early as 9 years old, simply for two reason- hella powerful and bonding time with Grayson

but, Dio was there, giving the twins mother (I've named her Marryane Moncharm) any help she needed.

for Grayson it's a different story, so you'll have to read the story to see

but I digress

At camp, he's attentive with his children, listening to their issues, giving advice if they want it and a distraction if they need it.

He will, however, tell his children that silly drama is below him before helping.

Dionysus has a secret obsession with dad jokes

think Patton from sander sides, but way more disgruntled and gruff than typical.

Dionysus has made Zeus tell a dad joke without realizing it, and to this day, it is his best achievement ever.

Has a shirt that says "Dad jokes? I think you mean Rad Jokes." and will wear it unironically.

as for his actual cabin and how I picture it.... that's a whole different set of headcanons.

I've previously said I think the cabins got a major upgrade at the end of the titan war thanks to annabeth, I believe.

prior to that, Cabin twelve feels the most homely.

there's no big harsh lighting. only soft warm lighting.

the beds have the best bedding ever, like it's so cozy

lots of theatre memorabilia hanging up

uh, like that one guy from only murderers in the building, I forget his name but he had theatre stuff all over his apartment- like it was a lot

also, Dionysus definitely has like, his item of power hung on the wall in there because he Does Not Care™ and the only rule is no touching the insanely powerful pinecone stick (Thyrsus)

Cabin 12 to me is the physical embodiment of Noah Kahan's music if that makes sense.

there's a bunch of headcanons for you friend! I hope you enjoyed them!

#stories of the forgotten demigods #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo ocs #percy jackson #writing #heroes of olympus #my percy jackson ocs #percy jackson oc #dionysus cabin #cabin 12 #camp half blood #castor and pollux #Dionysus

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graysonanddamiensblog · 3 months ago

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Chapters: 11/43 Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Damien and Grayson, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Juniper/Grover Underwood, Chris rodriguez/Grayson Bailey Characters: Damien Monroe (OC), Grayson Bailey (OC), Camille Jones (OC), Wyman O'Connoly (OC), Warren O'Connoly (OC), Aster Williams (OC), Juile Thatcher (OC), Canobie Nikolaiaevich Volkov (OC), Casey Legend (OC), Lake Wilson (OC), WInnie McKay (OC), Simon McCarthy (OC), Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Luke Castellan, Thalia Grace (Percy Jackson), The Stoll Brothers (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood Campers (Percy Jackson), Camp Jupiter Campers (Percy Jackson), Gleeson Hedge, Grover Underwood, Malcolm Pace, Clarisse La Rue, Ares Cabin (Percy Jackson), The Olympians (Percy Jackson), Hades Cabin (Percy Jackson), Hades (Percy Jackson) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Trans Character, Angst, hurt/little comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, a darker more adult take on Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson is a goddess among mortals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Manipulation, Luke is not entirely good but he's also not entirely bad Series: Part 1 of Stories of The Forgotten Demigods Summary:

"Sing, Goddess, the tragedy of Hades' son Damien Monroe; Broken, Doomed, that cost the titan's army countless losses..." or Damien and Grayson's life throughout the Percy Jackson and The Olympians Books Part one in the Series "Stories of The Forgotten Demigods"

#the lightning thief #its begun #percy is here #stories of the forgotten demigods #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy series #pjo fanfic #fanfic #pjo ocs

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hayatheauthor · 1 year ago

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Things To Consider When Writing With Mythologies

Mythologies, often ancient narratives passed down through generations, hold profound cultural significance. They are not just tales of gods and heroes but windows into the beliefs, values, and fears of societies long gone. This is why it’s important to ensure you are culturally accurate and don’t accidentally offend members of the communities you are writing about.

I personally am writing a WIP based around Japanese mythology, so here are some things I think you should consider when writing with mythologies.

Using Myths to Drive Plot and Character Development

Myths can serve as the very essence of your story's conflicts and themes. Imagine a tale where a young protagonist discovers they are the reincarnation of an ancient hero, destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy. The hero's journey in such a narrative would be profoundly tied to the mythological elements, guiding their growth and purpose.

Characters, too, can be shaped by the myths of their world. For instance, in Rick Riordan's "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" series, the characters are demigods, offspring of gods and mortals, and their quests are directly connected to the Greek mythos, intertwining their destinies with the larger tapestry of ancient legends.

Understanding Mythologies and Their Significance

Mythologies have been an integral part of human storytelling since time immemorial. They are not mere tales of gods and heroes but serve as essential cultural artifacts that mirror the beliefs, fears, and aspirations of ancient civilizations. Understanding the significance of mythologies can help us appreciate their profound impact on both the past and present, enriching our fantasy writing with layers of depth and meaning.

Mirrors of Cultural Beliefs

Mythologies offer a glimpse into the foundational beliefs and values of various cultures. These stories often revolve around the origins of the world, the creation of humanity, and the forces that govern existence. For instance, Greek mythology's creation story of Chaos giving rise to Gaia (Earth), Tartarus (Underworld), and Eros (Love) reflects the Greeks' attempt to explain the beginning of all things.

Archetypes and Universality

Myths are replete with archetypal characters and motifs that resonate with the human psyche. The hero's journey, the wise mentor, the epic battle between good and evil—these recurring themes transcend time and culture, connecting us to our shared human experience. As writers, tapping into these archetypes can make our characters and narratives more relatable and emotionally compelling.

Incorporating the essence of mythologies into our fantasy narratives allows us to harness the timeless power of these ancient tales. By honoring the significance of myths, we can create stories that resonate with readers on a profound and universal level.

Using Myths to Drive Plot and Character Development

Myths serve as powerful catalysts for driving the plot and shaping the characters in your fantasy world. By integrating mythological elements into your narrative, you infuse your story with a sense of wonder and connect your characters to something greater than themselves. Let's explore how myths can be harnessed to propel both plot and character development in your fantasy writing.

Mythological Themes as Central Conflicts

Incorporate mythological themes as the central conflicts driving your plot. Whether it's an ancient prophecy, a long-forgotten curse, or a divine mandate, mythological elements can set the stage for epic quests and high-stakes adventures. For example, in J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, the prophecies surrounding the Boy Who Lived and the rise of Voldemort become pivotal drivers of the plot.

Character Identity and Mythical Lineage

Give your characters a connection to the myths of your world. A character could be the descendant of a heroic figure from ancient times, bearing the weight of fulfilling an age-old prophecy. This connection to the past can shape their identity, motivations, and personal journeys.

Quests Rooted in Mythology

Craft quests and challenges that are steeped in mythological lore. By sending your characters on quests to recover sacred artifacts, defeat mythical beasts, or seek guidance from divine beings, you not only enrich your plot but also create opportunities for character growth and self-discovery.

The Mythic Impact on World Events

Consider how mythological elements influence the world events in your fantasy setting. Wars, political intrigue, and cultural practices may be shaped by the belief in ancient prophecies or the legacy of mythical beings.

Character Arcs Entwined with Myths

Let your characters' arcs intertwine with the myths of your world. As they confront their fears, overcome challenges, and evolve, they may embody the archetypal hero's transformation—rising to greatness or succumbing to tragic flaws.

Symbolism and Allegory in Mythological Writing

Incorporating symbolism and allegory into your mythological writing adds a layer of depth and complexity to your storytelling. These literary techniques allow you to explore profound themes and hidden meanings, making your fantasy narrative more thought-provoking and resonant with readers. Let's delve into how to effectively use symbolism and allegory in the context of myths.

The Power of Symbolism

Symbols are objects, characters, or events that carry deeper meanings beyond their literal interpretation. In mythological writing, symbols can represent abstract concepts, emotions, or significant aspects of the human condition. For instance, a mythical sword might symbolize justice and valor, while a sacred tree could represent the interconnectedness of life.

Allegorical Tales

Allegories are narratives that use symbolic characters and events to convey moral, philosophical, or political messages. Consider crafting allegorical myths to explore real-world issues in a fantastical context. For example, George Orwell's "Animal Farm" uses allegory to critique political systems and human nature.

Symbolism in Creatures and Settings

Leverage mythical creatures and settings as symbolic representations of broader concepts. A mythical dragon guarding a treasure might symbolize the greed that corrupts societies, while a mystical forest could represent the unknown and the call to adventure.

Interpretation and Depth

Allow room for interpretation in your myths. A richly layered narrative invites readers to contemplate various meanings and draw their own conclusions, fostering engagement and making your story more memorable.

Balancing Allegory and Narrative

Remember to strike a balance between allegory and storytelling. While powerful symbolism can add depth, be mindful not to overshadow the narrative's flow and character development.

Through symbolism and allegory, your mythological writing becomes a vessel for exploring timeless truths, moral dilemmas, and the complexities of the human experience. This layer of meaning elevates your storytelling, leaving a lasting impression on readers.

Blending Myths with Worldbuilding

The seamless integration of myths into your worldbuilding can elevate your fantasy realm from a mere backdrop to a living, breathing entity. By infusing every aspect of your world with mythological elements, you create a rich and immersive setting that captivates readers and allows them to fully immerse themselves in the wonder of your creation. Let's explore how to blend myths with worldbuilding to craft a cohesive and enchanting fantasy world.

Mythical Origins and History

Incorporate myths into the history of your world. Legends of ancient gods or legendary heroes can serve as the foundation of your world's creation and early development. These myths not only add depth but also explain the origins of key elements in your world, such as magical artifacts or mystical locations.

Mythical Geography and Landmarks

Infuse your world with mythical geography. Sacred mountains, enchanted forests, and mysterious islands can be inspired by myths or even be the settings of ancient mythological events. The presence of these mythical landmarks makes your world feel magical and mystical.

Divine Architecture and Symbols

Represent the influence of myths on architecture and symbols within your fantasy world. Temples dedicated to mythical deities, sacred runes, or sigils used for protection can add authenticity to your setting, giving readers a sense of a world with deep-rooted beliefs.

Rituals and Traditions

Showcase rituals and traditions that have evolved from ancient myths. Festivals celebrating mythical figures or events can be an essential part of your world's cultural identity. These traditions can create vibrant backdrops for scenes and contribute to the sense of community in your world.

Legendary Artifacts and Items

Integrate legendary artifacts and items from myths into your world. These powerful objects can become central to the plot or wielded by characters of great significance. For example, the Sword of Excalibur from Arthurian legends or Thor's hammer, Mjölnir, from Norse myths are iconic mythical artifacts.

Creatures and Races

Inspire the creation of unique creatures and races based on myths. Drawing from various mythologies, you can invent fantastical beings like phoenixes, centaurs, or sirens. Alternatively, reimagine existing mythical creatures in new and intriguing ways.

Myths and Cultural Diversity

Explore how myths shape the cultural identity of different regions or races in your world. Diverse myths can contribute to varied customs, values, and worldviews. This cultural tapestry enriches your world and provides opportunities for compelling conflicts and interactions between characters.

Avoiding Cultural Appropriation and Stereotypes

As writers, we have the incredible opportunity to draw inspiration from a wide array of cultures and myths to enrich our fantasy worlds. However, with this privilege comes the responsibility to approach the task with cultural sensitivity and respect. Avoiding cultural appropriation and stereotypes is crucial in creating a story that celebrates diversity and promotes understanding. Let's delve into ways to navigate this delicate terrain while crafting a mythologically inspired narrative.

Research Extensively

Thorough research is paramount when incorporating elements from real-world cultures into your writing. Dive deep into the myths, traditions, history, and values of the culture you intend to draw from. Seek out diverse sources and perspectives to gain a comprehensive understanding.

Understand Cultural Context

Cultural context matters. Recognize that myths are deeply rooted in cultural experiences and may carry sacred or sensitive meanings. Ensure that you grasp the nuances and significance of the myths you're using, and handle them with the utmost respect.

Avoid Stereotypes and Exoticization

Steer clear of perpetuating stereotypes or exoticizing cultures. Respectfully depict characters and settings without reducing them to one-dimensional or caricatured portrayals. Create fully fleshed-out characters with their own motivations, strengths, flaws, and complexities.

Collaborate and Seek Feedback

Consider collaborating with sensitivity readers or cultural consultants who are well-versed in the culture you're representing. Their insights can provide invaluable guidance and help you navigate potential pitfalls.

I hope this blog on Things To Consider When Writing With Mythologies will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

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