#tw: mention of Luke Castellan

[birdiein]

Stoll Brothers angst

Them becoming estranged overtime

The realization that they don’t know everything about each other anymore

Both still caring about each other deeply even though they don’t have the same connection when they were younger

Connor missing his other half because nobody will ever have the same bond with him like Travis did

Connor having to be the head counselor for cabin 11 after Travis left

Travis having all these experiences about high school that Connor could never understand

Travis leaving and Connor being stuck in the same place

Travis having a whole group of friends that care, have fun, and understand him and Connor never having that because he’s just the resident prankster so nobody actually gets to know him

Having to wait for months to see each other

Connor wondering if his brother will forget about him because he’s too caught up with his own life

Connor faking it till he makes it

Wondering if he’s wasting his life staying at camp, but he can’t leave because he doesn’t want to put the burden of being head counselor on to another kid

Both of Connor’s older brothers leaving him (Luke and yk Travis)

the worms were eating at brain sorry

[pain-is-too-tired]

Trafficking technically being canon in pjo still- it just drives me insane.

Like yeah, it might be one(two if you wanna count ttc opening conflict) instances we see

BUT THAT STILL NOT GREAT

I mean it also is great for fic ideas- surprised I hadn't really seen it- but still.

Just insane to me. It's not even "the Titan Army is paying good money for demigods" it's "Luke Castellan is paying good money for demigods."

Like no matter what way your splice it Luke is at least complicit in it.

I know I get silly when writing him with the Leeluke stuff, but there's a reason I tend to focus on divorce Leeluke

Because it's so hard not to write him getting the consequences of his actions. Because he DOES STUFF LIKE THIS.

Especially with how I write Lee. If Lee found out the Luke was at least complicit in what's pretty much the buying of other demigods, he'd kill him with his bare hands. Being stuck as Kronos' vessel would seem like a mercy compared to how badly Lee would kick his ass.

Anyway... looks at my Fae!Lee/were-coyote!Luke au wip Suddenly that doesn't seem too out of pocket anymore...

[toastisnervous]

Luke wasn’t even a pedophile or a groomer you all are just a bunch of sissies.

ok so. wow. a lot to unpack here

I can’t believe I’m getting anon hate in 2025, what are you doing?

You’re this upset over a single tag I made in a post for another fandom??

I never said Luke by name

I mentioned age gaps not pedos or grooming

Calling people sissies for analyzing a character is just you trying to cover up the fact that you’re probably one to

also, he is a groomer 100%?? It’s canon, they may never say the word but that is exactly what happened. You can fight the pedo stuff (though I do believe he was one), you cannot fight the groomer stuff. The definition of a groomer is someone who manipulates or builds a relationship with someone younger than them to do something they want. That is exactly what he did, you cannot deny that. The pedo stuff depends on how you read certain scenes, but in my opinion if you even have to fight that a character isn’t one, they are one.

[puriteenism]

Planet au candy salad trauma dump trend! But with the people, I have the backstories for

Bianca: Hi, I'm bianca. My brother was ripped apart by campers because of a prophecy that said he might be cursed,leading ke to join thalias side to destroy Camp Half blood, and I brought Skittles

Piper: Hi, my name is Piper. I was SA'd as a child by one of my dad's famous costars, and my dad did nothing bc he didn't want to risk his reputation leading to a horrible relationship with love and intamacy that makes it much worse that im Neptunes daughter, god of love. I brought Squashies

Annabeth: Hi, im Annabeth, and I was groomed by my mom to be a perfect puppet for the gods and then had my will taken away from me and used as a weapon for my friends and I brought fizzy gummy worms

Luke: Hi, I'm Luke, and I was turned into a tree to prove a point by a vengeful goddess, and by the time I stopped being a tree, Thalia was considered a traitor who wanted to destroy the gods and Annabeth was virtually unrecognisable. I brought Chocolate fingers

Thalia: Hi, I'm thalia, and I had both my friends ripped from me at a young age and tried staying but ran away to form my own army, allying with dark forces bc I thought they'd be a lesser evil and I could overpower them, leading to the death of a lot of my friends. I brought pop rocks

(Theu all sit down and eat their candy)

[grinewrites]

in case youre wondering how much backstory I'm putting into tbc

i'm doing six hours and counting of research on mkultra for this. good fucking god!!! luke's going through it.

we also get a thalia mention.............

[polka-spots]

Thinking about Luke Castellan deciding that Zeus "absentee asshole" sucks so therefore he has to resurrect Kronos "regularly devours children" because that's just. Such a step up?

Like yeah the gods suck but I think I'd rather my dad not be around rather than him. Y'know. Eating me.

[prettiestlovergirl]

PRETTY GIRL

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; demeter!reader; light bondage; corruption kink; bathroom mirror sex; bareback; fingering; light edging; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it)

a/n: loosely inspired by this booktok post i saw about the fmc wearing ribbons in her hair & the mmc using one to tie her hands behind her back and fuck her, sooooo. this was kinda shit but shhhhh. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

whenever people had to describe you, they'd always mention the pretty ribbons you wore in your hair.

it was like your signature look, you always had some matching ribbon tied up into your hair some way with every outfit.

luke castellan was especially fond of the ribbons, they just accentuated how sweet and innocent you were. you were probably the purest thing he'd ever laid eyes on and he wanted nothing more than to be the one to ruin you.

he felt dirty, evil, for wanting to corrupt someone so sweet, almost angelic, like you, but when you showed up late to your regularly scheduled training session out of breath, with flushed cheeks, a basket of strawberries, and a pretty green ribbon tying up your hair... he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.

you'd been just so apologetic, explaining that you and a couple of your siblings decided to go strawberry picking and lost track of time, but all luke could focus on was your plump, pouty lips and imagining what they would look like around his cock. his cock twitched at the thought.

of course, he reassured you that it was okay, that you didn't need to stress. "relax, pretty girl. i get it." he'd cooed, reaching out end tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear.

you'd been instantly relieved, thankful, that he was being so sweet about your slip up. when he offered to let you use the hermes cabin bathroom to clean the dirt off your face, you obviously told him yes.

luke was always so helpful when it came to you. your knight in shining armor, you once called him. he just always seemed to be there in your moments of distress, knowing just want to say every single time.

all of this led to right now, your body pressed against the bathroom counter, your eyes on luke's in the mirror as he lifted your orange camp tee off your figure and dropped it on the floor.

"fuck..." he groaned instantly, your pretty green bra matching the ribbon still holding your hair up in place. "so fucking gorgeous." he cooed in your ear, making you shiver as he pressed his lips to your neck.

"y-you're sure this is okay?" you asked, glancing over at the door nervously as he kissed down to your collarbone. he sunk his teeth into the skin, making you gasp and moan out.

he marked you as his, creating the first impure mark on your body that only he and the gods would ever know was there.

"i promise, pretty girl. 'm just helping you relax. you were so stressed earlier." luke hummed, squeezing your hip gently to reassure you that everything was okay, that this was all for you.

you nodded, relaxing into his grip as he brought his lips back down to your shoulder. his free hand snaked up your front, pulling your bra down and instantly wrapping his hand around your boob, squeezing.

you moaned out louder, your back arching into him as you leaned your head against his chest. your eyes squeezed shut while he watched your face in the mirror contorting with pleasure.

this went on and on until he was absolutely satisfied with the amount of hickeys on your shoulder and you were a moaning mess against him, your pussy practically dripping through your shorts.

"you're doing so good, pretty girl." he murmured as he brought both of his hands down to take care of your jeans, letting them drop along with your panties and moaning at the view.

your inner thighs were soaked in your own arousal and luke's cock twitched at the sight. he wanted to just fuck you right now, but once again he needed to be patient. if he moved too fast n hurt you, you'd never want to do this again, and that was something he couldn't risk.

he spread your legs out a bit wider, encouraging you to hold onto the counter. "no one's ever touched you here, yeah?" he asked, his voice a bit breathy as he looked at how your pretty pussy looked in the mirror.

"uh-huh." you nodded, your own voice breathy as his fingers reach down and spread your pussy open. "no one but you" you reassured, moaning out as he gently slid a finger inside, your walls instantly clenching around it as you watched in the mirror.

fuck, you were so tight around just one of his fingers, luke couldn't wait to feel how you'd clench around his cock. just the thought made his dick get even harder, if that was even possible.

you gripped onto the counter even tighter with one arm while the other latched onto him. the intrusion was a brand-new feeling to you, but one you certainly enjoyed.

"o-oh, gods!" you moaned, unintentionally grinding down against his hand as he began to pump it inside of you. you whimpered and moaned out, nails digging into his arm and making him hiss in pleasure at the sting. look at you, marking him back.

it wasn't long until you were sagging back against him, forcing your eyes to stay open and watch through your lashes as his finger moved in and out of your pussy.

you became a moaning mess, grinding against him as you started to feel a knot tightening in your core. "mm, luke, i f-feel something!" you gasped, bucking your hips against him. he pulled his finger out, making you whine instantly as your cunt clenched around nothing.

"luke!" you whined, biting the inside of your cheek as you suddenly felt so empty without his finger inside of you. "relax, pretty girl. 'm gonna take good care of you." he cooed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as you pouted but nodded.

he reached his hand up to your hair, tugging the green fabric holding it up and pulling until the knot came undone, your hair falling down over your shoulders.

"what are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowed sweetly as he held the ribbon his hand. "just trust me, baby. you do trust me, right?" he asked, giving you his own mocking pout.

"'course..." you nodded, still so confused until he grabbed your hands and started to tie them behind your back. you wanted to ask more questions, but you didn't want him to think you didn't trust him! so you obediently let him tie a knot.

"that's my good girl." he praised, hiding his smirk at how much you really did trust him. "now, this is gonna hurt a bit, pretty girl, but i promise after a minute it's gonna feel so good." he murmured while he fisted his cock.

"o-okay..." you nodded, nervous butterflies fluttering around your stomach as you felt his tip slowly start to probe your entrance. "fuck!" you cried, your eyes screwing shut and your face contorting in pain as he slowly started filling you up.

"fuck, l-luke, you're too.. fuck, you're too big!" you whined, tears welling up in your eyes as you tugged against the fabric binding your hands together.

luke had instantly groaned upon entering your warm, wet pussy. he'd barely got a quarter of his cock in, your pussy far too tight and squeezing him. he wanted nothing more than to push in and start thrusting, but he had to be good, for your sake. at least, this time.

"just gotta breathe, pretty girl. need you to relax." he grunted, straining with the effort to stay still. you whined more, but once his hand connected with your swollen clit, you started to relax.

he pushed in more and more until finally, he was all the way in and your cunt stretched to fit him. "oh, fuck, fuck!" you moaned out, eyes fluttering shut as he finally started to thrust in and out of you.

you were still clenching around him, your puffy walls clinging to his cock like a vice while he held you hands behind your back. he moaned as he got rougher, finally just unable to help himself. you were too wet, too tight, too fucking good to keep moving so slow.

"tell me you're mine." he commanded as his thrusts got a bit harsher, his grip on your hips tightening as you whined out. "fuck, fuck, 'm all yours! all yours!"

he thrusted quick and rough, his eyes firmly glued to the mirror so he could watch the way your wet pussy created a creamy white ring around his cock when he thrusted into you.

this went on and on until you started to feel that same knot building up again, your hips bucking against his as he thrusted. "f-fuck, luke, it's h-happening again!" you moaned, his thrusts getting faster and faster until finally, you came on his cock, soaking him in your juices.

he continued to thrust faster and rougher, now chasing his own high as you whined over the sensitivity. "fuck, baby, fuck, pussy's just so fucking good!" he moaned, until finally he pulled out and covered your back and arms in ropes of his cum.

you all but collapsed against him, panting heavily as you turned to bury your face into his neck. he held you just like this until you caught your breath and came down from your high.

eventually, you both got cleaned up and redressed, your legs already sore as you walked out hand and hand.

you hadn't noticed at the time, but your pretty green ribbon never made it back into your hair. instead, it was tied neatly around luke's free wrist, making sure everybody knew exactly who you belonged to.

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ���ᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[annabethsbbg]

luke castellan headcanons!! (i’m just gonna pretend he didn’t join kronos 🥰)

pairing: luke castellan x reader

tw: mentions of smut, but it’s not detailed at all

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

- he literally adores the ground you walk on

- you’re the only person he lets win while sword fighting

- and if you win without him letting you? he’s melted into a puddle on the floor bc OMG

- loves seeing you in skirts

- a HUGE thigh guy. your sitting down next to him? his hands on your thigh. your making out? his hands on your thigh. he’s giving you head? you guessed it, his hands on your thigh.

- this might be an unpopular opinion but he’s def more of a friends to lovers guy than an enemies to lovers guy. (in my head at least.)

- distracts you with kisses during capture the flag so his team can win :(

- definitely says things like “atta girl” (i need him so bad ughhh)

- ooo he loves kissing the top of your head when yall cuddle

[targaryenluvs]

— newcomer

pairing: dark!luke castellan x childofaphrodite!reader

summary: luke becomes quite infatuated with you, the newcomer of the camp.

tw: obsession, stalking, distancing from friends, intimidation, luke is like deep in love, my horrible attempt at describing love? kinda lovebomby, mentions of violence/luke attacking others

word count: 1k words

a/n: my second pjo fic! i think percy is next 👀 - i don’t think i outright described a female reader, let me know if i did so i can change it!! i i’m going to try and be more inconspicuous with genders to fit all ❤️

right from the start, luke could tell there was something special about you.

of course he was to introduce himself to the new kids but for once he wanted to meet you. with a warm smile and his reassuring words, you were made to feel at home quite quickly.

you’d thought of luke being friendly in general before learning of the hermes cabin and his welcoming nature, but it didn’t seem to change anything between the two of you. luke was an excellent guide in your eyes, helping you settle into your new life, you were undeniably thankful for him.

he was a pitstop for many, if not all campers once they entered the place, a familiar face to help them all. but for you he seemed to go above and beyond. he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and he believed himself to be the key in your life at camp half-blood to happiness. you made him happy.

your bright smile and endearing personality melted his heart, you were a breath of fresh air and he couldn’t wait to bask in it.

even after you were claimed, by aphrodite nonetheless, you stuck around. it made sense to him, you were the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen. whether it was a smile from afar or a long conversation, you always made it a point in your day to spend time with him.

you wouldn’t do that for nobody now would you?

no, your sweet self was kind, especially to him. you liked him, like he liked you, and he’d be damned if he let you go.

you seemed to be the only person who didn’t notice his disdain towards those around you. the way he’d linger around the ares boy who’d been chatting you up at breakfast, the same boy who’d been attacked from behind during capture the flag, suffering a nasty slice on his back.

or how he’d humiliated one of your friends during archery, correcting their stance, taunting their attempts to hit the bullseye, throwing them off and laughing at them when they missed. it was all in good fun, right?

he was like a shadow, unwavering and lurking.

it wasn’t uncommon to find luke a few metres away from wherever you were. to find him accompanying you to dinner, to find the two of you practicing together early in the morning, alone, to focus better of course. slowly but surely he wriggled his way back into your life, all consuming and prominent.

until it was seen as odd to find you alone.

seemingly tied together, woven, meant to be. you completed him, you made him feel alive. you made luke feel electric, on fire almost. your presence and touch began to comfort him most, your voice being the only one to bring him down.

and when you were taken from him, whether by others or in general, he was unbearable.

the shining luke castellan crumbled without his support. he needed you, depended on you, like fire and oxygen, plants and sunlight, a song and dance. you kept him going, you filled his life with purpose, he wasn’t luke castellan, son of hermes, counseller, confidante, friend.

he was lu, he was yours, he was your ‘sunshine’.

and as if he wasn’t already insatiable with you as his friend, when you’d admitted your crush on him, luke was on a whole other level.

“lu,” he hummed, turning his head your way, “i want, i need to tell you something.” the soft grass, the warm sun and gentle breeze, they all calmed his erratic heart. what did you have to say? he despised the idea of not knowing what you were thinking.

luke waited with bated breath, his nails digging into his palm, pressure building, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, not that you’d notice, he wouldn’t let you. “what is it sweetheart?” the two of you were sitting now, previously laid next to eachother on the picnic blanket.

“i think, i think i like you.”

and how could you not?

luke was the epitome of a gentleman, the kindest man you’d ever met. he made you feel special, you could always rely on your sunshine. in the months the two of you had known each other, it seemed he now knew you like the back of his hand. what you liked, what you disliked, the places you wanted to go and the places you’d been. you’d bared your soul to him, and you could only pray he loved you as you did him.

he was your strength, your courage, your friend, even if you hoped for more. he’d been there for you since the start, and you’d be forever grateful. so why not raise your relationship? fully commit to the one person who knew everything?

he’d crafted himself to be yours, to be everything you could ever wish for, as you were for him. luke had been waiting for your complete devotion, and he had it now, no one could make him let go. people often came and went in his life, leaving him in the past, he often felt taken advantage of, he gave up on the idea of someone to stay.

but you’d stay, blind with devotion and poisoned by his love, who on earth and in the heavens could treat you better than him?

your loyal luke.

“well i have a secret for you, only you.”

your eyes lifted to meet his, a small smile on your lips, “tell me luke,” his hand reached for yours, “what’s your secret?” your favourite flower, suddenly pulled from behind your head, placed behind your ear.

“i love you too.” he surged forwards, capturing you by surprise.

was this bliss? is this what it felt to be in love?

luke was intoxicating, his strong hands and loving voice, it consumed you. it was all so much, and it was all you’d ever wanted.

but a small voice in the back of your head was prominent.

you’d never said a single thing about love.

[absolutekillswitch]

no alarms and no surprises (please)

pairing: luke castellan x thanatos!reader

tw: major TLO spoilers (honestly tho if u haven’t read it yet, begone), major character death, discussions of blood and death, Luke was reader’s first kiss, mentions of past manipulation, lots of crying, and also i made [REDACTED] take way too long to die for the sake of dialogue. Sorry. Also! she/her pronouns are used, but I tried to steer clear of descriptors outside of that so this SHOULD be woc friendly

word count: 3.4k

It was cruel, this end he was facing. Y/N had felt it long before she’d seen it, that deep intrinsic tug within her, that sixth sense that had begun to go haywire since New York had fallen asleep, since the final countdown for western civilization had officially started running. The tug that alerted her to a new death in her vicinity. The curse bore by the children of death, the chained god, to feel the string of fate being cut, to sense lost souls being carried to the underworld by their father. To mourn, but not to see. She’d never felt it as frequently as she did now, feeling like threads tugging her in countless directions, so much so that her aim with her sword was affected. She’d been coined the best swordsman back at camp, after the previous titleholder had vacated the position, but now, it was like she was jittery, like a newborn zebra with a sword in their grasp, trying to learn how to stand and fight all at once, her battle senses being overridden by the unavoidable emotional pain of the fact that every tug she was feeling, was the feeling of a fellow demigod dying.

But then she’d felt that one.

The strength of this particular tug wasn’t lost on her. It was stronger than any she’d faced yet— stronger than the tugs of those she’d slain herself, and stronger than the tugs of those who had been close to her, when they were alive. It was so strong that the metaphysical tug had felt like a real, physical one, like she was physically being pulled in its direction. The proof of it is the crude slash on her forearm, where the kid she’d been fighting back had gotten a lucky shot on her due to her presently distracted nature.

It had to have been him.

She wasn’t sure just who she’d been fighting, and in the end, she doesn’t think it really mattered all that much, if they were a former camper; a demigod, or if they were an armored monster, as with a wave of her hand, the ground rumbles, opening up under their feet, boney, decayed hands dragging them into the earth, only for the ground to close up on them halfway through their forced descent. Y/N didn’t even notice, nor did she really care. All she knew was that she’d put an end to her own fight, allowing her feet to carry her to his side, numbness flooding her body, with a whispered command to her undead soldiers,

“Protect them.”

She’s not even sure how she found him, exactly. She’d just always been able to find him like that. Now seemed to be no exception to the rule, as she followed what she would consider to be the string of fate to his side. The sight she sees when she does is an unwelcome one, however. There’s three of them— she sees Percy and Annabeth crowded around a figure on the ground. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it is.

“Oh, Gods,” Y/N whispers, hesitating to get closer. She doesn’t know if she can. At the sound of her voice, Percy turns. He looks pale, eyes ringed in red. It looks like he’d been crying, exhausted, eyes wide, as if he were afraid he’d collapse if he even blinked. Y/N wouldn’t blame him, if he did.

“Y/N—“ He hesitates to speak, to try and explain, but Y/N doesn’t let him. She’s already marching over, ignoring the dread building in her gut, the tears in her eyes. And that’s when she sees him.

“Luke,” She whispers, the single word bordering on a gasp. Internally, she’s vaguely aware that this is the first time she’d used his name in years, preferring to call him by his last name, or traitor, at best, or whatever random curse she could think of at the time, at worst. She’d gotten pretty good at it, honestly— the coming up with insults to hurl at him every time they’d crossed paths since his betrayal. But now, all of that is gone. It seems that at that moment, Annabeth and Percy disappeared. It’s just them as she crumbles, falling to her knees before he can even protest. It’s him, not Kronos, she knows. They’d all learned how to tell the difference between the two, when Kronos had taken Luke’s face. Kronos had a colder air about him, eyes golden. Just pure evil that seeped into your bones, that seemed to change even the people around you. But this? This was Luke Castellan. Soft, soulful brown eyes, and a welcoming air about him. This was the guy who had been like all of Camp Half-Blood’s big brother. This was the guy Y/N had been in love with ever since she’d arrived at camp, even if she realized it far too late. Even if he was currently trying to get Percy to make her leave, not wanting her to see him like this. Never like this. Her eyes take stock of his appearance against her will. He looked just as bad as Percy did— worse, actually, given he was bleeding, Annabeth’s knife clattering from his hand to the marble below him. It makes her heart ache, the picture in front of her painted so clearly, even if she hadn’t been present to see it herself.

A hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.

They’d realized what the prophecy meant, clearly. Luke had to be the one to take Kronos— and to an extent, himself— out. And when Luke had done it, when he’d touched his own Achilles heel, Kronos had run. So now, Luke Castellan was dying. Alone.

Well— not alone.

She was still here. She always would be, even if he’d insist otherwise. He hated how she always had made him want to be a better person. Even now, as he lay dying, covered in sweat, blood, and ash. If she tries hard enough, she can almost pretend that they’re back at camp, that they’d had an extremely rough day playing capture the flag, that the pair of them are in the infirmary, making up ridiculous stories for the scars they’ll have as a result of their adventure, shedding tears from their short lived pain in the name of glory but laughing anyway as they stitched each other up, letting the Apollo kids deal with those who didn’t have someone to back them up like Y/N and Luke did— someone to dote on them, and someone to dote on in return. But it gets hard, keeping up this fantasy. They’re both far too battle-worn, both with eyes that had seen far too much, faces years older than they were the last time they’d seen each other. And in spite of it all, all she can find herself thinking is,

‘Oh, love, you grew up without me’.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Luke tells her plainly, his brown eyes fighting to focus on her through his tears that he’s fighting to push back. Had they always done that?

“Yet I’m here anyway. Deal.” She responds, brows furrowing, focusing on the wound in his side. Prophecies be damned, she won’t let him die. He sits up straighter, slumped uncomfortably against a marble wall at the sudden pressure to his side, the daughter of Thanatos trying to staunch the blood flow, trying to give him more time, tears clouding her own vision, hands shaking. She knows deep down that it’s all in vain, but she won’t let him go. Not like this. She’ll fight her father back herself, if she had to.

“Y/N…” He whispers uncomfortably, hating how blood spurts past his lips, onto his chin, as he utters her name. He’s going to die, he knows, he can almost feel the fates beginning to prepare to cut his thread, but there’s some things he can’t leave unsaid. “My— my heart, it was always yours. You know that, right?” He notices how she flinches, expression troubled. “Take care of it, for me. I know you’ll do better with it than I ever had.” It’s true— his entire time at camp, since she’d arrived, he’d stupidly ignored it. He let hate and anger and jealousy cloud his mind for so long, he never really appreciated what was in front of him. It was just unfortunate it was taking his death to realize that.

“Don’t— don’t say that, not to me,” she sobs, shaking hands still covering his wound, stupidly, naively, believing she could still save him. “Don’t make it sound like you’re dying. You’re not dying, damn it,” she still sounds determined, one hand leaving his wound to touch his face, holding his cheek, accidentally staining it with his own blood. “Don’t— don’t leave me here, please, I just got you back,” she pleads, glassy eyes blurring with tears. She thinks, honestly, that this is the first time she’s talking to just Luke, free of Kronos’ influence, since he’d stolen that lightning bolt from Olympus years ago. It’s the Luke she remembers, the one she so sorely missed.

He laughed quietly, reaching up to touch her fingers. Even now, as she was sobbing over him, unable to look him in the eye, she’s the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her lips were so plump — as if made to be kissed, even in this moment of peril. “The gods might not want me, but I’m glad they’ve given you to me,” he whispered, squeezing her hand in his again. “I’m dying, Y/N. You can’t save me.” This makes her squeeze her eyes closed, shaking her head lightly, as if she isn’t listening. She isn’t, not really.

“No, nononono— stop that,” She cries, her eyes squinting shut in an effort to banish her tears, but it doesn’t work. “I’m— I’m the daughter of Thanatos, damn it, what good am I if I can’t do this? If I can’t keep just one person alive?” She seems to be talking mostly to herself, not giving up her mission on keeping him with her. Not after everything that’s been said, not with everything that’s being left unsaid. “I know this isn’t what I do, that I’m not a fucking sunshiney Apollo kid who can heal someone on a whim. But this is kinda my thing, is it not? Just… Just one. Please, let me save just this one. I’ll never ask for anything again.” She’s looking up at the sky— praying, it looked like, while blinking away her own tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she prayed to the gods for anything, but she was now. To anyone who would listen, though Luke gets the sneaking suspicion she’s talking to her father. The one she blamed, for being unable to save anyone. She couldn’t heal, the best she could do was sit by and watch.

Luke laughed again, but it’s humorless— and it was so cruel, to die when he could feel his heartbeat quickening as Y/N was so close, her lips so near to his, her eyes so lovely. He wished he could kiss her right now, in this moment, on the marble floor, with blood running over his fingers and the dagger still next to them.

“Y/N, promise me one thing?”

“Anything,” Y/N nods softly, her attention turning back to him. She hates how the simple act of saying her name still affected her so much, after all this time. Her tears were cutting through the grime on her face from a hard fought battle, covered in her own and the blood of others, trembling. Still, she finds it in her to make a promise to the dying boy she loved. “Anything. Just—“ she drifts off, nodding, knowing they don’t have time. Luke took a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. For the first time in his life, he genuinely felt like a young man. A teenage boy, holding his girlfriend's hand and wanting nothing but her to keep safe. For a moment, he can pretend. But only for a moment. His breath hitched, and slowly, he felt the life fading from his body — as if it was being drawn from him like water in a cup. He hesitates to speak, but knows he’s running out of time. He can feel it, being sapped from his bones. But in spite of that, he’s not… afraid. He isn’t angry. He almost isn’t even in pain. He thinks it’s her, that it’s Y/N’s aura as a daughter of Thanatos, that no one in her vicinity will feel pain, a divine remainder of her father’s power flowing in her veins, the guide to the underworld, before they’d meet the ferryman. A walking shot of morphine. He’s heard stories from his spies, about how when Camp would lose a camper during their fight with Kronos— with him—, Y/N would stay with them until they passed, holding their hand, telling stories, bringing them peace, so they would go out with a kind face. Much like she was doing now, for him. The Thanatos of the waking world, the guiding light to death. It’s much more than he deserves, and he knows it.

"Promise me.... you'll meet me again... at the River Styx," He whispered.

“I’ll find you in Elysium.” She promises softly through sniffles, brushing his hair out of his face, a forced soft smile on her own face. She wants him to go out peacefully, wants to remember her smiling, even if she wants to scream at the sky and cry until she couldn’t breathe anymore. She’d been pretty good at it, feigning calmness and serenity with the campers they lost on their own side. It made their passing easier. But this? With him? She doesn’t know if it does. He’d always been far too good at reading her, for that. “I swear it, on the Styx, that I’ll find you in Elysium.” She sounds sure of herself, that even after everything he’d done, he’d earned a hero’s afterlife. That’s what the prophecy said, after all, right? Somehow, she knows she, too, will find herself with a hero’s death. Life wouldn’t be so kind to allow her to die of old age. She’d die hard, with a sword in her hand, and anger in her heart. Luke's eyes flickered open to meet the softness of hers, of lips he wanted to taste, of skin he wanted to cover with kisses. For a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of mourning the future he could’ve had with this girl, if he hadn’t been so hellbent on his never ending quest for glory.

Kleos. The word feels like poison, now. Maybe it always had been.

"No —" He whispered, head shaking lightly, "I won't be in Elysium. I’ll go to Asphodel—" He choked. That's where he'd likely be, being punished for his treason. It’s the least he deserved, after everything he’d done. "— and then the Fields of Punishment. But promise me... that you will wait for me, at the River."

“No,” Y/N shakes her head, adamant. He should probably take her word for it— she’s the daughter of the god of death, after all. She had a sense for these things. “Elysium. I’m sure of it. You’ve earned it.” She promises, tone soft. She doesn’t mention how she’d never let her father live it down if anything else took place. She’d tear Hades apart herself, find his soul and bring him back, somehow. Like Orpheus and Eurydice, except she’d succeed. “Regardless— it doesn’t matter. I’ll always find you. No matter where you are, I’ll find you. I swear it.”

He laughed, and it was a sad one. He was so weak, so very weak, his eyes flickering once more, his hand squeezing hers as tightly as he could, wanting to burn her imprint into his flesh. "You are so stubborn, you know that? You always have been," he whispered. Images flash through his mind against his will— her face, always her face. When she’d learned of his betrayal, then later when he’d attempted to sway her to his side. When they would train together in the arena— camp’s two best swordsmen. When she’d have nightmares, constant images of the dead trying to use her, both for her powers and as revenge on her father, who they felt claimed them from the mortal plane far too soon, to crawl their way back to the world of the living, and how, terrified of closing her eyes again, she’d crawl into his bed with him, the only place she felt safe enough to fall back asleep. When she’d kissed him for the first time, on her seventeenth birthday. Because ‘most demigods don’t get to make it to seventeen, so I’m making seventeen count’, as she’d put it. Then, later that night, after his surprise wore off, when he had kissed her. It pains him to think about how he’d only been manipulating her, back then. Had he loved her? Sure, but his mission always seemed more important at the time. He’d do it for them, he’d told himself. The gods would regret every unclaimed child, and every claimed child resigned to the Hermes cabin because they weren’t born with the luxury of having a parent that had a throne on Olympus, one of the big twelve. For kids like Y/N. His hand slipped from hers, and he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. Instead, he'd watch her, as if he could lock her into his memory. "Will you... will you stay here with me, until my life..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

“Until the very end.” She promises softly, her voice cracking with the effort not to cry. She’d almost given up on trying to staunch the bleeding, one hand resting on his face, brushing languidly, lovingly, over his cheek, just around the edge of his scar. She’s not sure what possessed her in that moment, as she leans down, placing a soft, chaste, yet romantic kiss to his lips. After all, he’d been her first kiss, it felt fitting that she would also be his last. As she pulls away, she whispers against his lips, “I love you, Luke Castellan.”

He was breathless, the kiss like a dagger to the chest, biting deeper than the blade that will end up taking his life. In a matter of minutes, his heartbeat would skip its last beat, and her face will be the last he sees, the last thought on his mind. His hand came up to the back of her neck, holding her as he whispered in return, "... I love you too." He managed only that, before his heart failed him. He was gone, and he didn't make a sound.

Gone with a whimper, not a bang.

The blood that fell from his wound was now staining the pristine marble flooring beneath them, the last remnants of life and love, of devotion and betrayal. Y/N hoped that it would stain forever, a constant reminder of his sacrifice.

Y/N felt his final breath fan across her face, and she knew he was gone. Her eyes remained closed, steady tears rolling down her face, their foreheads pressed together. She can feel him growing cold as she sobs. “No,” She whimpers, his hands, now gone limp, still in hers. “No, please no—“ Vaguely, she’s aware of the rumbling of the ground under her feet, a telltale sign of her powers coming out to play, a throng of undead soldiers aching to burst past the earth’s mantle, to await her command. Her face screws up into an expression of anguish, though she forces the feeling down, knowing that if she didn’t reel in her own emotion, her legion of death wouldn’t hesitate to grab every demigod in her vicinity and drag them into the earth, to take their place in the afterlife. Maybe they’d take her, too. Maybe she hoped they would.

The thing about being the daughter of death, was that when a soul left a body and you were near enough to it, you could feel them leaving the mortal plane, accompanied by her father to the underworld. She could feel it, feel him, Luke’s soul leaving his body. She always did, with the campers they lost during the war, but this one hits too close to home. It’s a startling, chilling, terrifying feeling, that only makes her sob harder, knowing the boy she loved was now in her father’s hands, and out of her own. This was always the hardest part. “Take care of him for me, pops,” she whispers, voice trembling, knowing her father was with Luke’s soul right now, the pair watching over her mourning over Luke’s body. As that realization passes over her, she sits up straight, a ragged scream of mourning threatening to tear her vocal cords apart. In the background, she’s vaguely aware of the voice of Percy Jackson speaking,

“We need a shroud. A shroud for the son of Hermes.”

Notes: and with that, we’re done. This was super fun! I feel like I could go on forever about Luke x Grim Reader (I’m calling them deadwings/grimwings), and if there’s enough of a demand, I just might. Feedback is obviously appreciated !! Drink some water, hug a friend, and don’t forget to pirate PJO 🫶

[fictionkinfessions]

response to https://www.tumblr.com/fictionkinfessions/764612604982411264/luke-castellan-pjo-here-please-bear-in-mind-the?source=share

tw // mentions of grooming

if its alright for me to put in my thoughts as another pjo kin, as well as maybe share what i think went down in my canon in regards to this

quite frankly, i think the idea that you were meant to be some sort of predator in the books is stupid.

the entire time i was reading i felt absolutely *horrible* for you (though that may have been just the kinnie in me) and i wished so incredibly badly for you to have the happy ending you deserved. for whatever its worth, i didnt see you as just "the antagonist" or anything, i also saw you as just a kid.

but anyway, back on the topic

im assuming youre talking about the scene at the end of book 5 where you/luke asks annabeth if she loves him/you. out of canon i just believe this to be an oversight by the author. in canon? this is either something that took place in my memories or is just like a heavy theory that i have, but i dont think itd be too unreasonable to think that chronos couldve canonically fucked with your aging process.

i mean, its the god of time. and you were so young when everything first started. if your body, or your mind continued to develop at a normal rate (or at all), you wouldnt be as easy to manipulate. again, its the god of time itself. he can probably do that

idk! thats just my theory on it. mightve happened in my canon, might notve (though it probably did)

ive never seen you in that way

sorry for the ramble ^^'

-#✿ (grover - percy jackson)

g

[childofthewargod]

Alright people

Angst time

Ahem

Starting off.....

PJO!Collette!

(Little reminder before hand. Well no actually a note- I had to like age up or age down a few characters to make like theirs and Coco's backstory a little more... Logical? Idk- but just so you know to avoid confusion!)

(This is like their backstory in a summary but also set during a different timeline, it's a little more different when it's like- "canon" as in during the same times as in the books and series)

(TW!!: There are mentions of beating characters up, mentions of character nearly dying, mentions of character's death, mommy and daddy issues, mentions of blood and scars, character is too blind up by anger and let's it get to them too easily, cussing, angst- like a lot of angst.)

PJO!Collette who was made angry and not born angry because of the expectations their mother had, while quite literally being just 8-9

PJO!Collette who could never understand why their mother sprayed them with loads of perfume in order for their smell to not track monsters

PJO!Collette who got sick of their mother's bullshit they were on the edge of running away, while being 8-9

PJO!Collette who in the end got told the truth and were simply dropped off at the camp, though not without a monster leaving a nasty scar on their back, while being 8-9

PJO!Collette who saw Grover when waking up in the infirmary, debating whether or not he's not worthy of their aggression and sparing him the insults

PJO!Collette who felt agitated to be in cabin 11 and didn't like Luke Castellan for whatever reason that may be

PJO!Collette who got claimed by Ares after getting into a fight with one of his children for shoving their shoulder

PJO!Collette who got along better with their cabin and letting Clarisse get to their head by letting her influence them

PJO!Collette who nearly fucking died during their first quest all because the Spear of Mars was taken by those who were seeking to plunge the world into chaos, to end up with an early birthday "gift" from Ares (which was an electric guitar that could convert to an two headed axe or sword)

PJO!Collette who, at the time, was ten-fucking-years old, during said quest, filled with rage that no child should have, though that anger died down when hearing about a new kid's arrival and that kid ending up being Coco and their beloved best friend

PJO!Collette who was the only child of Ares that had the guts to not back off when Luke said so, despite that Ares kids don't mess with him at all

PJO!Collette who hadn't even met Percy yet and let Clarisse whisper to them from how much of a fraud he is, thus as to why they strongly dislike him and Luke

PJO!Collette who hated Percy more after hearing what he did to Clarisse her spear, just to end up letting their anger get the best of them and nearly beating him to a pulp had it not been for Coco and Cole interfering and holding them back ("There's nothing special about you! You just got lucky because you don't know anything about being a demigod, you don't know the hell we all went through and you walk in acting like you know what you're doing!")

PJO!Collette who, despite that their cabin was known to be quite hotheaded, ended up being the only one who had to take anger management classes because apparently their anger was a level too high

PJO!Collette who couldn't be nice to neither Percy or Annabeth for the life of them, but would be less aggressive when it comes to Grover, way more with Coco

PJO!Collette who was the last one to stay behind to finish listening to the Oracle whom said that something horrible was bound to happen if they'd go with Coco, Cole and Chomei on quest, knowing that three was the holy number yet couldn't let Coco out of sight, just to see the consequences of their actions (that being Chomei dying in their place and Cole dying later on despite that it was actually three people during that moment)

PJO!Collette who thought they'd always be the one to carry Coco after every quest, never having thought for a second they'd get carried

PJO!Collette who later on developed feelings for their best friend, though learned that someone else was after her too and was nearly winning her heart (and Luke was certainly following his father's footsteps if he was this good at stealing Coco's heart)

PJO!Collette who did what they could to not let their father down, though, with their mother they stopped trying but she was more understanding than said father.

PJO!Collette who through the years knew it'd be impossible to pleas their father, as neither they nor Clarisse could be the sons he's wanted, learning that he's wanted a soldier and not a child

PJO!Collette who found themselves crying in their mother's arms, knowing she wouldn't belittle them for spilling out the inner turmoil that's been threatening to leak for years

PJO!Collette who ended up being a mama's girl kid instead of a papa's girl kid

PJO!Collette who, somehow, saw the more fatherly side of Mr. D, still grumpy but yet fatherly, too.

PJO!Collette who thought that the reason Ares gave them their crimson sunglasses was to show the supposed faith he never had for them, who went their way to get a leather jacket like his only to later on discover that the sunglasses were meant to be thrown away and instead given to them because like the sunglasses, they should've been thrown away as well

PJO!Collette who didn't understand why, why they ended up developing the same feelings they've felt (and still do) for Coco as for Percy, when clearly, they're unlovable

PJO!Collette who realized that the hatred they felt for Percy and Luke wasn't hatred but Envy, realizing they envied their skills and achievements, realizing that they hurt the both of them not out of spite but because they were jealous and were influenced by Clarisse

PJO!Collette who couldn't understand why they could tolerate Chris Rodriguez more than his brother, why they could tolerate Grover Underwood more than his best friend, why they were practically playing favourites just like their father

PJO!Collette who knew that they couldn't open their heart and reveal what they've been feeling for both the son of Poseidon and the daughter of Demeter, knowing that they would be stuck being FWB with said daughter of Demeter. And only they knew that they could label it as such because she didn't know a thing.

PJO!Collette who didn't understand why Percy was still being nice to them, why they continued being a dick to him because it's the role they've forced themselves to play through the years

PJO!Collette who knew time was ticking and therefore chosen to do something nice before they'd eventually leave

PJO!Collette who sacrificed themselves as a last way to show that they've given up the battle and couldn't be strong anymore

PJO!Collette who only managed to confess to Coco with a blade against their throat before it got cut, falling deeper in Tartarus if that's even possible, knowing that Grover would be the only one to genuinely witness their belated redemption and change of heart, that the others couldn't witness it like he did

PJO!Collette who couldn't feel their face getting cradled by Coco, couldn't feel her tears on her face and couldn't feel how they'd be the one getting carried by her now

PJO!Collette who didn't care whether they'd go to the fields of punishments or to Asphodel, knowing that wherever they'd land they'll be fine with it

PJO!Collette who ended up serving Hades and Persephone as their Royal Knight instead, not knowing that for once Ares said something genuinely nice and put in a good word for them to put them in said position, to spare them for they have went through enough

PJO!Collette who, till this day, still loves Coco, still loves Percy.

PJO!Collette who in the end, after everything that's happened, despite everything.

They still loved their father.

(I'm tagging @intriq @fallingwaynes @wanderingoracle @dottedlove @iwillsarcasmthemonstersaway @chaotic-child-of-apollo @scarletbeast @oliviachildofaries @thatonebitheaterkid @rayof-damnsunshine @thisisireneshesoutofcontext @dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine @amazing-war-god-ares @will-solace-aaaaa @saph-nic @13callisto @yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades @evelynnisfrpinkiepie)

(That's about it)

[liveorganism]

Ok so seeing all the Frederick Chase slander re-awakened my visceral rage that Annabeth got literally no closure for a fair amount of her trauma. Examples below the cut

Exhibit A: Her goddamn awful childhood. Anything that makes a SEVEN YEAR OLD run away, like for real, is bad. Very bad. Case closed. But it kinda rubs me the wrong way how after like, 3-4 different attempts to repair a screwed familial relationship, TTC Percy told her with this info in mind to give it another go. Plus, he is never even punished for his actions. No reluctance. Just acceptance for doing one good thing. Keep in mind, this already failed post-TLT as the next time we see Miss Chase she is beat up from a few months on the run. 

Exhibit A - The Second Part: I also don’t like how MOA kinda de-legitimized it with “oh no spiders!” and dumb stuff like movie night with her dad or whatever. What I’m saying is this: I would have been fine with Annabeth being happy with her dad if only he earned that trust again. Right now, it just feels like further manipulation. As it stands, Freddy is Mrs. O’Leary’s chew toy.

Exhibit B: Luke. I really shouldn’t need to elaborate, but I will: Honestly, fanon and canon kinda blames her for trusting Luke. But again, she was MANIPULATED! All caps, run it through the dictionary if you want. What I want is someone to help her realize it instead of him just dying a “”hero””. Post BoTL hurts a lot for similar reasons: fanon and canon can’t see past the surface level trust she has invested in Luke. They fail to see the nasty stuff, and the fact that this trust is also the product of her childhood trust issues which I have explained above. These two kinda segway into eachother.

Exhibit C: Joint one with Percy, but Tartarus needed to be more fully acknowledged. People have said it better than I can, so here ends a disjointed rant fueled by sleep deprivation and a hyperactive brain.

[rynnaaurelius]

For the fanfic ask game - B, F, H, and T, please?

(Referenced ask game HERE)

Of course! I hope you're having a great day.

B. Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Well, if we're being honest, Luke Castellan and the Age of Heroes. (If you click in that link, bear in mind the last third of it needs reading an earlier longfic of mine for context). I wrote it when I was struggling with a depressive episode and general anger at—*waves at the world in general*

Luke was my mouthpiece for a lot of those emotions, and I think that shows? A semi-common reaction to that one-shot is to say that it felt pretty raw.

Not so much a story, but I would also add that Carter, Sadie, and Percy's dynamic from the Magician!Percy 'verse draws a lot on my relationship with my sister and my oldest friend. I wouldn't be writing that story if Percy's relationship with the Kanes wasn't that good, so I think that counts.

F. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From Hold Tight and Pretend It's a Plan, Ch. 18:

Percy finally found it in him to respond, the words slipping out of him in a soft horrified voice. "Gods, Hazel. . .I'm sorry. So, so sorry. That's just—Schist."

—And Percy then mentally kicked himself in the gonads for the insensitivity, feeling something in his chest twisting and knotting at the stupid, stupid line.

But Hazel let out a watery chuckle, and she let her shoulder bump against his and stay there. "Yeah. Schist."

And Percy figured that just maybe it had been the right thing to say after all.

Perhaps slightly cheating, considering Percy's narrative is still here, but I have a soft spot for Hazel and Percy's dynamic. I'm proud of myself for the schist reference from Son of Neptune, and I think it's a moment where I nailed Percy's character, in saying the right thing by saying the wrong thing.

Plus, there's an understanding, I think, between Hazel and Percy, in the magnitude horrors experienced by a friend that go unsaid, and how to see that. Particularly in this 'verse, where they're, ah, pretty connected by a certain kind of horror.

Maybe not my most clever dialogue, but it's one of my favorite moments.

(The award for most clever dialogue goes to any scene I wrote with Sadie Kane in it)

H. How would you describe your style?

Rambling. I've never met a word count I couldn't obliterate with style. I'm much too fond of run-on sentences and certain grammatical conventions, which makes switching POVs and trying to keep them at least somewhat distinct difficult.

I think introspective is also a good one? I'm fond of making characters sit and think about what they've done, and I really sometimes struggle with keeping characters from standing around awkwardly as they think. It's not deep, but I like angst, and that's a good way to get it.

T. Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Hmmm. Non-specific fandom trope, I'm going to say character bashing, for obvious reasons. I understand being unforgiving a character—lord knows I've done it plenty—but the older I get in fandom, the more I'm convinced that if you reach the point of unadulterated hatred towards a characters, such that you're knowingly exaggerating their worst traits, then you should probably switch to a Doylist interpretation of the text for your own sanity. "The heroes are secretly the REAL bad guys" also drives me batshit, regardless of fandom.

Other than that. . .I'm not one for smut or erotica, so I guess A/B/O, since that's usually an excuse for it? Fun signs that I'm ace include: Wanting to read a plotty Omegaverse fic without all the, um, fluids.

I have an anti-soulmates PJO AU in the works, so I'm probably required to list the soulmates trope, even though I'm usually pretty neutral on it, most days (I have enough of it bookmarked to be a raging hypocrite, tbh, but straightforward applications of the trope have never done it for me for various personal reasons).

Fandom-specific is the usual suspects, to be honest. I've yet to read a Riordanverse fic involving someone sleeping with a virgin goddess that didn't feel weird. "Percy gets betrayed by everyone" is such a universe-breaking trope that I've only seen one (abandoned) attempt that comes close to pulling it off, in the loosest definition of the trope; admittedly, it was terrific enough that it took me about three chapters to figure out what trope was being subverted. I'm reading one ongoing fic right now that's about three steps away from it, I think, and excellent, but I doubt the author would classify it under that trope umbrella.

Oh, and I don't hate it, but I'm incredibly wary of any story that makes use of the Greek Primordials in all but a Deus ex Machina fashion. Too much bad fic when I was fourteen.

Thanks for letting me ramble, darling. :)

[i-am-a-reader-fear-me]

*flips table*

OMG

YOU GUYS

YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST THOUGHT OF

--I MEAN SOMEBODY PROBABLY SAID THIS ALREADY BUT LIKE--

WHAT IF

THE REASON THALIA LIKED LUKE SO MUCH

WAS CUZ HE REMINDED HER OF JASON

Like blond hair, blue eyes, he didn't even have the scar when she met him, he looked exactly like what she'd imagined Jason would grow up to look like.

And then he takes care of her like a little sister and suddenly she has a new brother (who ofc is ripped away from her as she ✨dies✨ and he turns ✨evil✨ but anyways)

Yes???

[anthropardon-me]

what the riordan series teaches us

trials of apollo: anyone can make mistakes but it’s never too late to improve. also domestic abuse frickin sucks

heroes of olympus: anyone can be a hero, no matter who you are and who you think you are.

the kane chronicles: do what’s right and persist, even when facing your worst nightmares.

magnus chase and the gods of asgard: the power of friendship and falafel.

percy jackson and the olympians: don’t neglect your children or they will lead/take part in an ancient titan revolutionary and the fate of the world will rest on the shoulders of (1) plucky sixteen-year-old who has recently been dipped in a river and is now almost invincible and the leader of said revolutionary who has a cool-ass blade like props to you luke castellan backbiter is a wicked name and sick sword.