#the flying canoe

[atomic-chronoscaph]

La Chasse-Galerie - art by Henri Julien (1906)

[annaberunoyume]

A well-known legend from Quebec. LA CHASSE-GALERIE (ADAPTED FROM HONORÉ BEAUGRAND, RETOLD BY YOURS TRULY, A NATIVE QUEBECKER)

La Chasse-Galerie or the Flying Canoe

(adapted from Honoré Beaugrand by annaberunoyume, alias ForeverTOONfan)

A long time ago, where there were still lumbermen working in the depths of Val-David, a group of lumberjack men were feeling very lonesome. It was New Year's Eve and the men were miles and miles away from their beloved village. And it had snowed so much that even using a canoe would take eons.

On that dark evening, the youngest of the lumbermen, Émile, was daydreaming about his love, alone on his bunk bed. When suddenly, Bastien the brash came rushing in.

''Émile, Émile, come outside, you won't believe this! We're going to see our family, tonight! But we need to be, six, eight or twelve to go. Come!''

Émile followed Bastien incredulously outside. And indeed...A strange sight was there to behold. A large, fine canoe laid on the ground...And besides it, a dark, almost feminine figure dressed of black and grey, looking with the eye of a hawk, a venomous snake ready to strike. The men knew instantly who it was...

The Devil...

''Good evening, gentlemen.'', it spoke in a gentle voice. ''I couldn't help but overhear that you miss your home. What a sorry sight, all alone on New Year's Eve. I felt like being generous, tonight. I am willing to lend you my canoe for the night. It shall take care of your little problem...''

''How?'', asked Émile, ''We're so far away, miles and miles for the nearest village. We could never make it in time!''

''Aah...But this canoe is special. It knows the way. Simply sit in it and shout ''Acabri, Acabra, Acabram, make us travel over the mountains!'' and it shall take you to your loved ones. Its eyes turned red like fresh coals in the fire.

''However, there are some conditions to my offer. Nothing special. Do not pronounce the name of your Master, do not touch anything Holy and return to the camp before sunrise...Or else...I shall claim what is rightfully mine...''

The men shivered at those last words...Should they risk it all for an evening of fun? But the Devil was cunning and made visions of making merry danced before them. With a gulp, the chained crosses were placed in the large recipient of the dark figure.

It snickered and offered a last wish: ''Happy New Year...'' before fading away in the wintery winds.

And thus, twelve men climbed aboard the canoe, Bastien and Émile at the far back. And Bastien's loud command rang out:

''Acabri, Acabra, Acabram, make us travel over the mountains!''

And miraculously, the canoe levitated and when the men began to row, the canoe with an ease unlike any other flew higher and higher until the world was no bigger than a multitude of santons. To see the moon so close was beyond any words. The clouds were like the downiest lake to cross.

Before long, they could see the house where a great party with all of their families was held. They gently landed on the snow next to the house and hid the canoe. My, how the crowd rejoiced when the men entered the house. Amist the tears, people wondered how on earth did they make it in time. But the question was soon forgotten when the fiddlers began beckoning all to dance in a cavalery of reels.

Émile rejoiced in the glory of Marguerite, his love and both spent the whole evening dancing... But sometimes, he could swear a dark figure was spying on them from a window.

But soon, Émile looked up at the grandfather's clock at the bottom of the house. Oh no! Only a few hours left before sunrise. He quickly gathered all the men.

''Wait, where's Bastien?''

Bastien was in a corner, singing and clumsily dancing, many glasses up his nose.

He almost cursed when the man forced him out and towards the canoe. They had to tie him and put a sock in his mouth. Way too dangerous, otherwise. Émile fearfully sat down and when all was set, he shouted:

''Acabri, Acabra, Acabram, make us travel over the mountains!''

But as the canoe levitated, without Bastien to steer it, the canoe awkwardly floated up, left, right, up down, it was a battle to get it steady...The men rowed with the determination of Cain escaping God's wrath, but Bastien was putting up a fight...

And throughout the lake of clouds, a sinister guffaw rang out...:

HAHAHAHAHAHA! Only a matter of minutes, gentlemen...Try getting back on time! I can hear the sun about to rise! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

''Look out!''

Praise their Master, they missed the church's cross by an inch. Émile's terror grew by the minutes...

He could not help but pray silently, to the horrid sound of a hiss that made the canoe vibrate...But then...

''LOOK OUT!!!!''

CRASH!OH! AH! OOF! SLAM!

The men and the canoe's bow hit a fir tree square in its trunk. And all tumbled down into unconsciousness...

''Émile...Émile? You here?''

Émile took a few seconds to open his eyes. Then he jumped and tried to feel himself before the cook gently pushed him back down on his bed.

''Easy, lad. You took quite a fall. You're lucky there was a big snow bank under that tree. Or else, you wouldn't be alive.''

''Wh...Where are the others?''

''All out cold. Don't know if they'll be able to work, tomorrow. Don't know where Bastien went, though. (Snickers) Must have gotten lost in the woods, again. Don't know what kind of drunk game you were playing outside, but we found your crosses and my burnt smaller cauldron...And a gorgeous broken canoe. (snickers) What will the foreman do with you, tomorrow? Don't wanna see that, for sure.''

Émile listened, stunned. Was it just a drunk fabulation, a dream? He sighed, overwhelmed as he looked at all the little crosses. All intact, except from Bastien's.

But later, that night...As the young lad was pondering how close he had come to Death...The air suddenly grew colder...And he heard footsteps:

Tock...tock...tock...tock...tock...

And the very same dark figure that gave them the magic canoe stopped over the empty bunk-bed of Bastien...Took the burnt, broken cross neatly folded on the pillow...And looked up calmly to Émile...before snickering one last time:

Hehehehe....Happy New Year, Émile...

The latter could only watch as it gently walked away...Out the camp's doors...Into the snowy plain...And dissapear with the wintery winds...

And from then on, Émile never again took on the challenge of the Chasse-Galerie...

THE END.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Australian Pokemon - single stages

Another set of Fakemon for my Goorda region, based on a combination of Australia and Aotearoa/New Zealand. Previous posts: non-natives, regional standards, creepy lines, regional variants, birds, early-game standards, misc 2, misc 1, variant starters, starters

Wakaremai, the Transport Pokemon, water/dragon type. They have been used since ancient times as transportation, carrying humans between islands with the canoes growing from their backs. Some scientists believe ancient Goordan people created the species, but are not sure how. SOme legends say that people were first brought to Goorda on the back of a gigantic Wakaremai. While massive, Wakaremai are gentle giants who feed exclusively on plankton and are easily tamed by humans. Since the invention of motorboats, Wakaremai have become more common in the wild.

Wakaremai is a combination basking shark and waka, Maori canoes. I based the design on this reconstruction waka. It fills the same niche as Lapras in being a transport focused water type and Lapras are either not native to Goorda or where never used for transport. Real life basking sharks are plankton-eating gentle giants just like Wakaremai. The story of Wakaremai bringing people to Goorda is based on Maori stories of how they first came to Aotearoa on canoes. I did make two boat sharks in the same region, but Wakaremai is a gentle giant and defensively oriented while Davalossam (in a previous post) is very hostile and offensively oriented. Wakaremai's name comes from "waka" and "reremai", the Maori word for basking shark.

Mimicrag, the Thin Pokemon, fairy/rock type. Their bodies are paper-thin, making them incredibly flexible, but they are so light that the wind will blow them away. They live inside cracks in rocks and only emerge on windless days. Mimicrag are intelligent and mischievous Pokemon that have been known to prank hikers, but they seem to mean no harm. Legends say that the Mimicrag taught the first humans in Goorda how to survive in their new homes.

Mimicrag is based on the mimi, mythical creatures from north Australia who had to live in cracks in rocks because their bodies were so thin wind could kill them. They were believed to have inhabited Australia before humanity and taught humans how to hunt and make rock art. Depictions of the mimi are found in a lot of petroglyphs, which inspired the rock typing. Mimicrag would be a very fast and lightweight, but defensively poor Pokemon, the opposite of most rock types. The name comes from "mimi" and "crag".

Windipet, the Carpet Shark Pokemon, flying type. These airborne Pokemon normally dwell high in the sky and eat clouds, but they occasionally come low enough to encounter humans. They are strong enough to carry a human, but need training as their normal flying style would quickly send the rider falling. Windipet are know to be playful and will spend hours playing with each other when they meet.

Windipet is a flying carpet that is a carpet shark. Specifically, it's a tasseled wobbegong and a tasseled carpet. Them living in the atmosphere and rarely coming down is a reference to atmospheric beasts, cryptids that allegedly live their entire lives in the sky. Windipet comes from "windy" and "carpet" and I tried to mimic the word wobbegong.

Didgeridoodlebug, the Noisy Pokemon, bug/normal type. It has eight horn-like organs on its back that it can move air through to create a very loud noise. Smaller, stick-like organs coating its back are banged together to make more noises. During mating season, Didgeridoodlebug create cacophonous symphonies to attract mates, much to the dismay of any nearby humans trying to sleep.

Didgeridoodlebug is based on two Australian musical instruments and Thopha saccata, a species of Australian cicada that is a contender for the loudest insect in the world. Much like real cicadas, their songs can be very frustrating for humans. The musical instruments are the didgeridoo and clapsticks, both of which are used by Aboriginal peoples. I made it part normal type both because we don't have a bug/normal yet and to give it STAB on moves like hyper voice and uproar. Its name comes from "didgeridoo" and "doodlebug". Cicadas aren't doodlebugs, but I just couldn't pass up on that pun.

[detroitlib]

From our stacks: Illustration "La Chasse Galerie. A Legend of the Canadian Shore." from Legends of Le Détroit. Marie Caroline Watson Hamlin. Illustrated by Miss Isabella Stewart. Detroit: Thorndike Press, 1885.

[dustyrider]

Casting on a perfect day

[best-nun-tournament]

Round 2, Match 4

Sister Bertrille (The Flying Nun) vs Canoness Veridyan (Warhammer 40000)

Sister Bertrille is lightweight and susceptible to Puerto Rican wind gusts. Possibly she's a novice of the Daughters of Charity but it's never specified what order the Convent San Tanco belongs to.

Canoness Veridyan is a Sister of Battle and a Canoness of the Order of Our Martyred Lady

Sister Bertrille

She's Sally Fields! How can you not love her?

---------

A US sitcom in the 1960s actually had some bits of Spanish.

Canoness Veridyan

No propaganda submitted

Poll Runner's Note: Iconic.

[constantvariations]

Listening to the V7 director commentary for the first time and I almost dropped my jaw when I heard Luna call the racist drunkards the "faces of Mantle" like??

You want these two assholes to represent all of Mantle yet expect the audience to give a shit when it's threatened? Fuck em and fuck Mantle!

[the-terrible-theys]

this is the scene that got me shipping aviva and donita. LISTEN TO HER????? calling aviva gorgeous and then immediately revealing that she knows it’s her and not a bird. seems a little gay to me idk man

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Hidden Oracle: Chapter 36 (SPOILERS)

"Sherman Yang's chariot, which was still circling the statue's legs in a vain attempt to electrocute its kneecaps." Is this the same flying chariot that the Apollo and Ares cabins were bickering over during The Last Olympian and that the Lost Hero trio were picked up by at the start of Heroes of Olympus? I have a headcanon that the Ares cabin felt bad about their lack of participation after the Second Titanomachy and gave it back to the Apollo cabin and that's why it's stated as belonging to the Apollo cabin in The Lost Hero. Now with Sherman using what I assume is the same chariot 'cause there's no way the camp has multiple flying chariots laying around, that means they share it sometimes! Awww I love this background storytelling.

"Hades used to love sneaking up on me that way and yelling, 'HI!' just as I shot an arrow of death." The way Apollo knows Hades is very, very different to the characterization of Hades we're familiar with. To Apollo, he sounds like the weird uncle who shows up every winter solstice and encourages the kids to participate in dangerous activities that their parents would never let them do.

"A plague arrow" That thing is a giant metal statue. It does not have organs, nor an immune system, nor any flesh whatsoever. A plague arrow is possibly the least effective weapon that could possibly be used against it other than maybe a feather on a stick. "disease to kill the Colossus's animating power" Mmm still dubious but okay.

"And... if you fail?" "I won't have the strength to try twice. You'll have to . . . Find an arrow, try to summon some sickness, make the shot" Y'ALL CONNED ME. We've all been going "give Will plague powers" WHEN IT'S IMPLIED THAT ALL CHILDREN OF APOLLO NATURALLY HAVE HAD PLAGUE POWERS ALL ALONG. Or at least it's common enough that Apollo has faith Kayla and Austin can pull it off if he fails! So all, most, or some children of Apollo can conjure up sickness, but they either don't know or simply choose not to. Maybe Will stands a chance in Tartarus after all. After all, Annabeth made it through and all she had was superpowered weaving and the ability to bruise any immortal deity's ego.

"Sherman Yang's chariot, minus Sherman Yang." Uhh, Canoe Duo, what did you do? Tell me Sherman Yang isn't dead. All y'all had to do was tell him you have a plan and you need to borrow the chariot. "Nico convinced them to disembark." You threw them off the chariot when it was dozens of feet in the sky because talking would have taken too long? Will, you're the medic! You know you're gonna have to get them fixed up and yet you deliberately cause them bodily harm!

"after that shadow travel, Nico is going to pass out any second." "'No, I'm not,' Nico complained, then passed out." First of all, funny. Second of all, Nico got seriously nerfed. There's no way he's still recovering from fading halfway out of existence. Even with the inconsistency of demigods' powers throughout this series, Nico could open a passage to Asphodel and drag someone (Bryce Lawrence) into it without even touching them. Now he tries shadow traveling within seeing distance and passes out. Yeah, he took Will with him, but that should be easy as pie after taking three people and a forty foot tall statue overseas. And it was within seeing distance. How's he gonna survive Tartarus again, let alone save one or more people from down there? With this new revelation, I seriously have more faith in Will making it through than Nico.

"Another time, in a Stockholm tavern, I met this god who was smoking hot, except his talking sword just would not shut up." My friend tells me this is Magnus Chase reference. I think. Or it might've been Kane Chronicles. I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure they said Magnus Chase. Neither of us have read either of those series.

"The arrow quivered." Do not apologize for that pun. Lol. Apollogize

"PRITHEE, SHOOTING IS NOT MY PURPOSE." PRITHEE (exclamation): please (used to convey a polite request)

"'FORSOOTH,' said the arrow." FORSOOTH (adv.): indeed (often used ironically or to express surprise or indignation)

Why does this arrow talk so loudly. Such a small thing, yet such large bellows.

"In a flash of silver light, the camp's magical barriers collapsed." Fuck.

"'You can't hear this arrow talking?' Judging from her wide eyes, I guessed the answer was, No, and does hallucinating run in the family?" This made me laugh. She really must've thought he'd gone mad. Too much time in the Grove of Dodona and whatnot.

"'I'm fine!' Kayla yelped . . . splattering drops of red all over the chariot's floor." This just about sums up the demigods' attitude toward injury.

"Only one of the missiles was unbroken, and its shaft was warped." But he's gonna make the shot anyway, 'cause he's awesome. Odd how he keeps calling them missiles, though. It never occurred to me that the word for missiles might have existed long before the missiles we know today were invented.

"STARTEST THOU: PLAGUEY, PLAGUEY, PLAGUEY." That friend I was talking about earlier: This was the line that took her out. THIS line. Can you believe...? Of all the jokes.

"My plan would take much too long, if I could even remember how to make a plague arrow. This was my punishment for breaking an oath on the River Styx." How does he know? Does he just... know? This is for using the whole anthill as a giant instrument and shooting arrows at the ants, right? So we know the geyser oath to save Meg doesn't supersede the oath on the Styx against using arrows or instrumental music and this is the punishment for it. I don't like how the Styx oath is just an excuse to do certain plot points. This plan not working could easily just be blamed on Apollo's faulty memory or human error (which is possible now that Apollo is human and really even if he weren't). Anyway, I wonder if he's ever gonna break a Styx oath and then, like it was said that Styx oaths could take a lifetime to wear you down and ruin you, the punishment doesn't take effect so soon after and he lives in fear of that coming back to bite him.

"Hey, Bronze Butt!" Classic weak Percy insult. "Over the Colossus's head" Shadow travel can't make new shadows. The volcano thing was a one-time incident and that was because the mountain gods working for Gaea interfered. Unless hellhounds have more advanced shadow travel than Underworld demigods.

"The weekend was here." I like that introduction for Percy. He's like "I got time on the weekend. Might drop by." And then the weekend comes and he shows up for this epic battle instead of relaxing weekend-related activities. Story of his life.

This post was way longer than it ought'a have been. I've written an essay. Not sorry.

[muirneach]

this movie rocks cause it implies the devil is some sort of werewolf

[chillydownhere2]

Source Me laf@ilyF ❤️

[alanjamesart]

flying canoe ghosts

[foodandfolklore]

The legend of the gallery hunt

As a Canadian, I like to look for folktales from around the world. But I also like to find stories a little closer to home. This is a Quebec Folktale about Lumberjacks on New Years eve wanting to go visit their girlfriends for the season. So they make a deal with the devil to fly their canoe there and back. It's probably one of the earliest tales that has a "Don't Drink and Drive" message. Which is saying something as this story dates back to the 1800s.

Since this is a Quebec Folktale, it is written in French. As I'm not fluent in French, I used Google Translate to help understand the story. If you are fluent in French, and want to read the original text, feel free to do so here. I also had a friend who lives in Quebec fill in some of the blanks for me. One of the most important ones that we English speakers should be aware of is the style of Curse Words the people of Quebec use. Most curse words in Quebec are apparently tied to the Church. Not because they are a religious Province. Just the opposite. Quebec has a tumultuous relationship with the Catholic church and just religion in general. So, when they swear they're "Taking the Lord's name in vain" Multiplied by Fuck, Shit, Cock. If that makes sense. Though, I still giggle at Sacrament and Tabarnak. But apparently it's worse so.

The legend of the gallery hunt

It was the evening of December 31, just before midnight. The loggers were preparing to celebrate the start of the new year. The site cook had prepared New Year's Eve. The site manager had given a small barrel of rum to his lumberjacks. Outside it was freezing cold. The cook was a bit of a “hottie”; he lay down on the bed. 

The cook was sleeping when, suddenly, Baptiste, the head of the pickers, woke him up and asked him if he wanted to go see Lise, his girlfriend.

Seeing my Lise, said the cook, it's not possible. She lives in Lavaltrie. It's near Montreal. It's 400 km from here. A trip of almost a month on foot in the snow!

Baptiste replied: “No question of going on foot. We will travel by canoe in the air. We will go to the village ball and tomorrow at six o'clock we will be back at the construction site. 

I understand, replied the cook. You suggest I go hunting; to risk my eternal salvation to go kiss my girlfriend in the village...

Yes that's it ! And we need an even number of men; you will be the eighth!

I'm a bit of a drunk, not very religious but selling my soul to the devil... 

Create sissy! There's no danger! With the gallery chase, we do 200 km per hour. It's simply a matter of not pronouncing the name of the good Lord and not hanging a church steeple while traveling. 

Yes, but you have to swear an oath to the devil...

It's a simple formality. If we hold our tongues and steer our canoe well, we will come back here without any problem.

Without thinking too much, the cook headed towards the boat. Baptiste warns his men that at the dance, they should not drink in order to have a clear mind to steer the canoe properly on the return trip. Baptiste, standing behind the boat, said: “Repeat after me: Satan, we promise to deliver our souls to you if, within six hours, we pronounce the name of your master and ours, the good God, and if we let's touch a cross during the journey. On this condition, take us over the mountains and you will bring us back to the construction site. Sheep! Acabras! Acabram! Take us over the mountains! » 

The canoe rose into the air to a height of 500 or 600 feet. He darted through the air like an arrow, fleeing faster than the wind. The men saw the course of the rivers and, flying above the Ottawa River, they soon arrived in Montreal. Then, the villages passed by and they very quickly saw the village of Lavaltrie. It was two o'clock in the morning. 

“Be careful,” Baptiste shouted, “we’re going to land!” » Five minutes later, they inquired about the place where the vigil was being held: at Battissette Augé's house. People were surprised to see them. Baptiste said to them: “Let us dance, we will tell you about our trip tomorrow. » The men danced for two hours. Baptiste, breaking his word, took a few glasses of white whiskey. Very quickly, the time of departure arrived. The men left without attracting attention. Even the cook left without saying goodbye to his girlfriend.

Even though Baptiste was a little drunk, he was the one steering the canoe for the return trip. He took the wrong route and passed very close to the Contrecœur bell tower. Further on, he almost hung the cross on the top of Mont Beloeil. So, to get back on the right track, Baptiste turned the canoe so quickly that it overturned in the snow on Mount Royal. As soon as his feet were on the ground, Baptiste began to worship. The men thought at that moment that if Baptiste was still dying when they got back into the boat, it would be hell for everyone! Then, the men tied up Baptiste and gagged him before leaving towards the construction site.

They were almost there when Baptiste began to want to break away. Very quickly, he managed to remove his gag and “released a coronation” [Info: Swear] which caused the boat to fall. Fortunately, the canoe remained snagged in the branches of a large pine tree. The men fell into the soft snow. The cook lost consciousness and woke up in his bed the next morning. He had a few scratches on his hands. 

The other guys on the site reported that they had found the cook, Baptiste and the six other men simmering their white rum in a snow bank near the site. Nobody denied them. The guys would never have told about their trip: it was a shame to have almost sold your soul to the devil to go kiss your girlfriend!

[balletfilmss]

LOVERS LAKE

✸ pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader

✸ synopsis: you & luke escape to the lake and away from counselor duties!

✸ warnings: pre-tlt, established relationship, kissing, me believing whole heartedly that i can fix him

✸ authors’s note: ignoring that it’s literally christmas & this is so summer-coded, charlie bushnell brought back my original series luke obsession so here you go 🙈

the lake was arguably the best place to be at camp half-blood, even for someone who hated the water and was all but dragged their by somebody else who loved it.

that someone was you, and the somebody else was luke.

that boy loved swimming in the lake like the stars love sitting in the sky, and the only thing that made it better was when you were there with him.

between knowing that fact and the pleading look in his pretty puppy eyes, how could you say no?

so now you and him were in the lake together, on a rare escape from your responsibilities as counselors during rec time. you may or may not have been hiding from your campers by staying hidden by the boathouse that stored the camp’s supply of canoes.

you were clinging onto the wooden dock while your boyfriend swam about, still putting on your angry facade at him after he threw you in the water initially.

was the way he scooped you up in his big strong arms and grinned like a little kid when he jumped in with you absolutely adorable? yes. did that mean you were going to let him get away with it? absolutely not.

pouting with your arms wrapped around the dock leg, you watched as the boy’s head disappeared underwater, not missing the mischievous glint that lingered in his eyes beforehand.

and just as you had expected, a wet head of dark curls popped up just beside you. just to be annoying, he shook his head like some kind of dog and laughed when you scrunched your face up at the flying drops of water.

the little loser laughed at you. now you were definitely mad, and would’ve crossed your arms and harrumphed if you weren’t still holding on to the dock like you’d die if you let go.

“are you ever gonna leave that poor dock be and actually come swim with me?” he asked, batting his pretty long eyelashes like he was pleading for you to do what he asked.

“go away.” you grumbled, looking away from him.

“aw, c’mon sweetheart.” he cooed, his tone teetering between teasing and sincere.

you felt familiar hands wrap around your waist as luke pried you away from the dock, ignoring your words of protest.

“you are literally going to drown me.” you frown as you have no choice but to hold onto him.

look, it wasn’t that you couldn’t swim, it was just that it was going to take one hell of a monster chasing you to make it happen.

“oh my gods, i am going to die.”

you were now out of arm’s reach of the shore, left with nothing but your boyfriend to keep you afloat. dam it.

“would you relax? i’m not gonna let you drown.” he chuckled, smiling at your antics as he kept both you and himself afloat.

“well you pushed me in, so you may as well.” you responded, sticking your chin up in dramatic negligence.

“hey, it was push you in or get caught and have about seventeen campers join us. which would you rather have?”

the first option, obviously, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

instead, you stuck to the silent treatment, which meant luke was left to his last and final resort.

“guess you leave me with no choice then,” he feigned a regretful sigh, even though you both knew he was ecstatic to do what he was thinking.

“wha- no. no no no no!”

luke had let go of your waist for no more than two seconds before you had screamed and clung onto him for dear life, your arms tightly wound around his neck and legs around his waist.

“i’m going to kill you, castellan.” you grumble, unable to see his reaction as your cheek was pressed against his.

there it was again, that gods damned chuckle of his that made your heart do little somersaults.

“love you too.” he said humorously. but when you didn’t reply with the same phrase, it was his turn to pout.

“hey.”

between the pout in his voice and the poke he delivered to your sides, you knew that your inattention had had just the effect you wanted.

this was the dance the two of you had done several times before. he’d annoy you, you’d ignore him and then you would relish in the way he turned into a lost puppy when it lasted for ten seconds too long, proving once again just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.

“hey. hey. hey.”

he poked you again and again, repeating the same word in hopes that you’d look at him, but you remained relentless.

“i’m not forgiving you that easily.” you insisted, as if your faces weren’t inches away from each other and water wasn’t the only thing between your body and his.

once again, he knew you too well to know there was little truth to your words.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek in hopes to get you to finally turn your head and look at him. again, nothing.

“hey, pretty girl.” he whispered, growing desperate and excruciatingly impatient. “would you at least look at me?”

feeling as though you’d drawn it out rather excessively, you listened and looked at him.

immediately, your lips were captured by his in a sweet kiss, the lake water seeping in between and tainting the flavor.

when he pulled away, luke wore a smirky kind of smile that made you want to kiss him again just to get rid of it and the giddy little feeling it gave you.

“am i forgiven now?”

he was, but instead of saying that, that was when you splashed a wave of water in his pretty little face.

[beutlerdesign]

Mountain Bike Couple in The Tetons : Jackson Hole

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[atlabeth]

true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 

He chuckled. “So you are free?” 

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 

“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  

“Really,” you said dryly. 

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.”