i-mmunity

[i-mmunity]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope. A greater woman wouldn't beg but I looked to the sky and said "Please."

The first time you burned offerings, you had hope that your father would acknowledge you. It was the day after you got to Camp Half-Blood. You burned your entire plate of food, choosing to starve for the night, in hopes that your father would offer his condolences. Perhaps, he'd empathize with you. You both lost someone, after all, you a sister and he a child.

But nothing happened. You thought you did it wrong, that your father just didn’t hear your prayers– he wasn’t ignoring you, of course not, what parent would ignore their grieving child? You stayed up the entire night reading ancient texts, knocking on the doors of cabins to speak to head counselors for guidance. You were too naive about this life to notice the pity in their eyes then. None of them had the heart to tell you that your father wouldn't show mercy, at least not in the way you wanted him to. They never did.

You tried again the next day, only to be met with the same fate. But Luke, who had heard of your attempts, saved half of the food he was given and knocked on the door of the lonely Zeus cabin to share it with you. He'd gotten in trouble for not burning an offering that day, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to let you go to bed hungry two nights in a row. 

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, then years, your offerings began to get smaller and smaller, until finally, prayers became more of a chore, a thing to check off on your to-do list. It stopped meaning something. It was three years of unanswered, half-hearted, prayers. 

Luke stumbled into Camp Half-Blood midday. A large gash was across his face, blood staining his skin. He was clutching his side, shirt nearly ripped to shreds, similar to how his skin was raw and frayed under his clothes. He'd used all his strength to carry himself into camp before falling to his knees when his eyes finally found you in the chaos of it all. 

He said your name once, voice hoarse and scratchy like Ladon clawed his way inside Luke, ripping out his vocal cords, not sparing a part of him from destruction. When he finally collapsed, you ran to him, smearing the red of his blood all over your own clothes, as the Apollo kids pried you away from him.

For the first time in three years, you were going to bed hungry again. The charred remnants of what would've been your dinner created a foul scent in the air. Luke’s blood was still lodged beneath your fingertips, staining your hands even after you’ve rubbed them raw. It made you sick. 

"Dad," You pleaded, watching the smoke fade into the night sky. Your tears were flowing down your face, chest heaving as you ignored the distant sounds of the campers you were meant to be looking after. "I haven't asked you for anything in years, but now I'm asking you this. They can't take him. Please, not Luke." 

For a moment the world seemed to still. The clouds in the sky disappeared, specks of white faded into the midnight blue. You turned around, looking for a sign of life somewhere, anywhere. There was nothing but silence, no sounds of owls hooting in conversation, no whistles of the air, no chatter of the few kids who stayed at camp. 

When the flame in front of you extinguished with a whoosh, the darkness engulfed you, leaving nothing but the thin light illuminated by the moon. Black smoke rose from the pit as you looked up to the sky, "Please." 

A flash of light vanished as quickly as it came. There appeared a ragged line perfectly between the peaks of the mountains, bright white, leaving a haze of silver in your vision. Then a rumble of the earth, shaking the ground your knees were glued to. Lighting and thunder. A sign that Zeus had heard you. 

A high-pitched noise rang across the world, different frequencies like it was caused by more than just one thing. The noise made you cover your ears with your open palms, groaning as you fell over by the sheer power of it. Then the world resumed, like what you just witnessed, what you just experienced, was a glitch in the fabric of time. 

Your offerings were nothing but ashes now and the clouds returned to the sky, this time carrying the weight of water as droplets fell on your bare skin. You stood up, rushing to the infirmary, barely beating the relentless storm that was brewing. 

Lee Fletcher turned around at the sudden intrusion, eyes wide in shock for the second time that night. You stood at the door, trying to catch your breath. He smiled at you, as he took two steps to the left, then disappeared in the other room. Luke was propped on his bed, shoulders hunched over as he touched the bandages on his face. As if he felt your presence, he turned his head, wincing at the pain that shot up his spine when he overextended. Even with one eye taped shut, you saw his gaze soften. 

His voice came out as a whisper, barely audible, but you still heard it. "Hey, you." 

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. If it wasn't for the sounds of your footsteps pounding against the wooden floors, if it wasn't for your hands reaching over to touch Luke's face, warmth spreading against your skin to anchor you, to show you that he's really there in front of you, you wouldn't have believed that this was real. 

The gods were cruel sometimes. They messed with your head until you were questioning your own sanity. At first, you thought this was one of their games, one of the things they did to toy with mortals for their own entertainment. Perhaps, Luke wasn’t really here; But then you felt it– his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Home. This was real.

"You're okay," You cried, hands grazing over every part of his body. You tried to ignore the raised flesh under the bandages, running across large expanses of his skin. The scars were still fresh, blotches of red marking the white cloth. "You're okay." 

"I'm okay," He repeated, a side smile appearing on his face. His hands gripped your waist, needing to feel you just as much as you needed to feel him. Luke wanted to tell you that all he thought of was you the whole time. Even when the sides of his vision darkened, and all he could do was drag himself through the familiar neck of the Montauk woods, it was the image of you that he kept chasing. 

You, waiting for him under the shade of Thalia’s tree. You, shaking him awake in the Hermes cabin to start your rounds around camp. You, smiling at him like there was something worth living for in this life. You. 

Luke wanted to tell you that it was the promise of spending life with you, even if he was nothing more than your best friend to you, that kept him hanging onto the thread of life. If he survived this, he swore to himself that he'd tell you how he truly felt about you. He couldn't die without you knowing.

"I shouldn't have lied to you," You said, "I should've told you to stay like I wanted to." 

Luke shook his head, "This isn't on you. I wasn't fit to go on this quest. I failed." 

"You're the strongest person I know, Luke." 

"This wasn't a test of strength," He snarled. Luke always got like this when he talked about things related to his father and the gods. Resentment dripped from his voice like honey. It wasn't a tone you were too familiar with because he never spoke to you like this. "I was right. This was a test. He sent me on this quest to fail... and I fell for it." 

Luke did things with conviction. He was born to be a leader and it showed. He never cowered from a challenge. He held his head high, even when things didn't go his way. He learned from his mistakes and he made sure it would never happen again. 

But sometimes, in the rare moments where the pain of failure pierces his heart, he turns into the little boy you once met. The same one who did things for the approval of his father. The same one who defied the odds and fell into the traps of the insincerity of the gods. The same one who blamed himself for not being good enough– not good enough to save his mother from the Oracle, not good enough to save his friend, not good enough to warrant more than two sentences from his father. 

You always said that you and Luke were two sides of the same coin, both burdened by the feeling of knowing you should’ve done more, but differed in the way you went about life. Luke welcomed his responsibilities, fueled by his search for glory, while you shied away from this life as much as you could. 

Your mouth felt dry as the heavy raindrops trickled against the window pane, "I'm glad you're still here." 

"I couldn't leave you here on your own," He replied, voice dropping to a whisper. His hands tugged you closer to him. You let him wrap his arms around you, feeling his heart against your chest. "Can I tell you something?" 

"Always." 

"I–" This was it. He couldn't wait anymore, not when he faced death and all he could think of was how his heart would ache, longing for you, until your time came to join him in the afterlife. Even on the brink of his demise, all he could think of was you. He wasn’t afraid of dying, he was afraid of being in Elysium without you. Would it even be a paradise if you weren’t there?

Luke's words got caught in his throat. His confidence was at an all-time low. If you rejected him now, he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it. He didn't think he could handle the thought of facing the repercussions of this failed quest without you by his side. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm tired. Will you stay here tonight?" 

You nodded, running your hands through his hair as you gently laid him down on the bed, careful not to put pressure on his wounds. You kept your distance, afraid to cause more harm than good, but Luke was not having any of it. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his weak body. He couldn’t move much in fear that he’d tear his skin even more with any slight movement, but that was the least of his worries. In fact, he had no worries now.

He made it to Camp Half-Blood, alive, albeit a failure, but he was with you. There were no worries in the world anymore. 

“Luke?” You whispered. You turned to face him, recognizing the face you’ve grown to love even in the darkness of the cabin. The flashes of lightning illuminated his face every so often. Despite all of this, he still looked beautiful. Your Luke always did. 

“Hm?” He hummed, eye fluttering open at the sound of your voice. The noise of the storm was drowned out by your soft breaths against his cheek, warm and comforting. “What is it?” 

“You know I love you, right?” You professed, reaching up to touch the uncovered side of his face. He melted into your touch, feeling safe and seen in such a small action. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t make it.” 

“You should know by now that I’ll never leave you,” He chuckled, nudging your nose with his. “I’ll be kicking and screaming if they ever try to keep me away from you. They’ll have to send more than one dragon to keep me from you.” 

You laughed, “You’re insane, you know that?.” 

“I know,” He looked down at your lips. You’d both been in situations like this before, caught in the magnetic pull of each other, but had enough strength to pull away before either of you could do anything that would lead to regret. “For the record, I love you, too.” 

“Do you?” You breathed out, wondering if he understood your question. You said it to each other often. You both let it linger in the air, subtext and unsaid words on the tips of your tongues. “Do you love me?” 

The way you were looking at him made his heart race. Is it the right time to tell you everything? Is it too soon? Will you think that he was just saying these things because of what happened? Would you trust him if he told you that he loved you in every way that a person could ever love another? 

If he asked you if you trusted him with your life, you’d say yes with no hesitation. You’d trusted him with your life since you first met him. All his life, Luke had been taught to be wary of the people he met, but not when he met you. It was like you saw right through him. You understood him like nobody he’d ever met. 

“I love you,” He said, hoping that it was enough to show you. If he had his way, he would let you peek into his mind, his soul, and his heart, just so you’d see that all of him yearned for you. 

“Do you–” You paused, tilting your head to brush your lips against his. The storm began to calm outside. “Do you love me like this?” 

Luke’s grip on your waist tightened, hands burning against the exposed flesh on your lower back, “Yes. Always.” 

You sighed, placing your lips on his. You felt Luke shiver at the feeling. His lips moved against your own in a gentle kiss, innocent and kind. The rain ceased. You pulled away from him, continuing to trace patterns on his skin. Luke’s face relaxed as he held you in his arms, letting the tiredness in his bones win. 

When the both of you woke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the curtains, with no traces of last night’s storm to be seen.

[i-mmunity]

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.

series masterlist | previous | next

Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.

"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"

There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.

Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.

"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."

"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 

Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 

Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.

Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."

Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 

His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.

"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.

You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.

"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."

He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.

"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."

Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."

"Maybe."

"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."

You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"

"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 

Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"

"In a few hours."

"Oh."

"Are you upset?"

"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."

"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."

"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."

"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 

"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.

He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.

Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 

“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 

“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 

“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 

“You are more than what your father thinks.” 

He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 

When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 

There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 

“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.

“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 

Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 

Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.

[i-mmunity]

Hellooo helloo, I love all your Luke stories so muchh!!

Could I have a request for Luke x Poseidon’s daughter reader something about her joining him even betraying her brother Percy because love prevails all so like their love is the most powerful thing of all.. hope that makes sense in a way hahaha okay thank youuu 😙💗💕✨

thank you so much for reading my stories, I’m so glad you like them ☺️

luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: betrayal, reader’s kinda blinded by love but also kinda cute, little fluff at the end

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

Thirteen wasn't exactly the age you pictured discovering you were a demigod. Apparently, you had blissfully –or maybe obliviously— muddled through your first thirteen years completely oblivious to the mythological world that simmered just beneath your feet.

Your life had been a quiet one. Growing up in a sleepy seaside town, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore was the soundtrack to your existence. You felt a weird connection to the water, an inexplicable pull towards the ocean whenever you stood on the beach. But you attributed that to nothing more than a love for swimming and a healthy dose of wanderlust, you thought.

Then came the satyr. Grover Underwood, a nervous wreck of a creature with a perpetually startled expression. You don´t remember much about your life back then, just the way he stammered through an explanation about Greek myths being real, your parentage being linked to a god, and the pressing need for you to get to a safe haven called Camp Half-Blood.

And now here you were. Years went by, living at Camp Half-Blood, and being the only child of Poseidon.

Camp was always bustled with activity. Laughter echoed across the training fields, campers sparred with celestial bronze swords. Yet, amidst the chaos, a subtle sense of loneliness lingered around you. You weren't friendless, not by any stretch of the imagination. You had a close circle of friends, but there was a specific kind of lonely feeling that came with being the only child of Poseidon at camp, a forbidden child.

The other cabins, they all teemed with siblings. —mostly—. Shared history, inside jokes, and the comfort of knowing someone else understood exactly what it meant to have the same god for a parent – these were things you craved. There was a gap, a yearning for a familial connection that none of your friends could fully fill.

Then came Percy.

His arrival at camp was nothing short of spectacular. A blue-eyed twelve-year-old with a knack for attracting trouble. During a particularly intense Capture the Flag game, Annabeth, a sharp-tongued daughter of Athena with a strategic mind, shoved Percy into the lake. The air crackled with gasps and surprises as a shimmering green trident materialized above Percy´s head, claiming him for Poseidon.

The revelation sent a jolt through you. You, the solitary child of the sea god, suddenly had a sibling. Percy looked up at you with wide, startled eyes, a mixture of awe and apprehension playing on his face. It was like looking into a mirror reflecting a younger version of yourself, the same confusion etched on his features.

Percy looked up to you with a hero-worship that both amused and touched you. He saw in you a reflection of his own mother, Sally Jackson, with her kindness and unwavering belief in the good in others. You became his confidante, his guide through the intricate social landscape of Camp Half-Blood.

But you weren't the only one who welcomed Percy. Luke, your closest friend at camp, was equally happy for your newfound family, —or so he faked it very well. Percy quickly found himself asking you both all the questions he had and spending all his training session´s with Luke.

You and Luke were a natural fit. Both of you skilled warriors, blessed with the agility of Hermes and the raw power of the sea. You sparred together often, your movements a dance of attack and parry, a language only the two of you seemed to understand. Your laughter echoed through the camp, and more than once, you caught Percy or other campers shooting you hesitant glances, not really knowing what your relationship was about, a thin line between friends love and-, other type of love, drawn in between.

And yes, Luke loved you, and you loved him. So much, that´d you´d be able to do anything for each other. Little did Percy know.

The metallic clang of your celestial bronze sword echoed through the silent woods, a jarring counterpoint to the chirping of nocturnal crickets. Percy, his breath ragged and sweat stinging his eyes, pushed back against Luke's relentless assault. Betrayal gnawed at his gut, a viper coiling tighter with every parry and thrust.

Luke, his once friendly face twisted with a manic fervor, pressed the attack. Every word that left his lips was a fresh wound: about the Olympians' manipulation, about the power promised by Kronos, about how this wasn't meant to betray him, or anyone.

Suddenly, the clang of steel meeting steel ceased. Percy stumbled back, his heart hammering in his chest, as Luke lowered his sword. A flicker of hope, fragile and fleeting, ignited within him.

"Percy," Luke said, his voice quieter now, a hint of desperation creeping in. "This is not what you want, trust me. Last chance."

Percy stared at him, the hope dying as quickly as it had flickered. How could Luke even suggest such a thing, joining him? Didn't he understand the consequences?

Before he could retort, a new figure emerged from the shadows of the trees behind Luke. His breath caught in his throat, eyes twitching as he tried his best to focus on the figure coming from the forest. You.

A flicker of relief washed over Percy as he saw you emerge from the shadows. "yn” he called out, hope blossoming in his chest.

You stepped into the scene, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your features. But something was off. You weren't rushing to his side, face etched with concern as it usually was. Instead, you stood there, a strange stillness cloaking you.

"Percy" you finally said, your voice cool and controlled, lacking it´s usual warmth.

Confusion warred with the relief. "yn" he repeated, his voice unsteady. "Clarisse didn't – it was him" he stammered, pointing at Luke with his sword. "He stole the bolt. He's joining Kronos"

Percy expected outrage, surprise, anything. Instead, your expression remained unreadable. A shadow flickered across your face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I know what he did" you replied simply. The calmness in your voice sent a shiver down his spine. The casualness of your reply was scary. It was like you were talking about the weather, not a world-shattering betrayal.

There was something wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Then help me" he pleaded, a desperate edge creeping into his voice.

You met his gaze for a long, agonizing moment. Percy saw a flicker of something weird in your eyes, something that made your pupils blown. But then, it was gone, replaced by a fire that mirrored Luke's.

A slow realization dawned on him, cold and heavy in his gut. You weren't surprised. You weren't angry. You knew.

Percy's heart hammered against his ribs. He saw the familiar hilt of your celestial bronze sword hanging loosely at your belt, the moonlight glinting off the polished metal.

"Percy, I can't do that" you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Percy understood then. You weren't caught in the middle. You weren´t with him, you were with Luke, all the way. The truth slammed into him, a betrayal far worse than anything he could have imagined. You were a traitor.

Percy felt like you'd ripped open a fresh wound in his chest and poured lemon juice in it. This sister, this family he'd thought he'd found at camp, meant nothing to you in the face of this rebellion? The anger coursing through him was laced with a bitter disappointment that gnawed at his insides. He'd trusted Luke blindly, sure, but you were different. He'd looked up to you, confided in you. The betrayal cut deep.

"You're with him?" he choked out, the question laced with disbelief and a raw, wounded vulnerability. He couldn´t wrap his mind around it.

"I'm not with him, Percy" you countered, taking a hesitant step forward. He flinched back, the movement a physical manifestation of the emotional chasm that had suddenly opened between you. The pain that flickered across your face was a punch to his gut, but he couldn't ignore the conviction in your voice. "We're together" you continued. "We created this."

Percy couldn't believe what he was hearing. You were so convinced, so blinded by whatever twisted loyalty you felt for Luke, that you couldn't see the bigger picture. "How could you?" he roared, his voice raw with emotion. "How could you do this, to everyone who trusts you? To the people who love you?"

You scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Come on, Percy, you want to talk about betrayal? Let's talk about our father." The words hung heavy in the air, a challenge laden with bitterness. A sudden breeze swept through the woods, rustling the leaves and carrying the salty scent of the ocean as if a wave had crashed nearby. It seemed like even the sea itself reacted to your words.

"Let's talk about the gods" you pressed, your voice laced with a bitter venom. "They get bored at the Olympus, so they play their pretty games, making mortals fall for them and then discarding them like broken toys. Mortals like your mom, like mine. And they leave us, their children, to pick up the pieces."

Percy groaned in frustration. "They're not perfect" he admitted, "they're trying their best for us"

"Don't bullshit me" you say. The calmer your voice was, the more fear Percy felt. "I don’t wanna fight, Percy, but they couldn´t care less”

Luke´s face partially obscured by the shadows, but the jagged scar across his cheek was visible under the moonlight. It was a constant reminder of the failed quest Hermes had sent him on, a cruel mark of a father's neglect.

Percy's gaze flicked between you and Luke, a sudden understanding dawning on him. Your words, your anger, your sadness. It wasn't just about Kronos or overthrowing the Olympians. It was about a deeper wound, a festering resentment born from years of feeling abandoned by your father, his father too. He understood, but he didn´t think it was right.

"But you can't be serious" he finally choked out. "This isn't the answer. There has to be another way."

A flicker of sadness crossed your features, a stark contrast to the steely resolve you'd presented earlier. It was a fleeting glimpse, a crack in the facade you'd constructed, and it tugged at Percy's heartstrings. No, it wasn't jealousy or envy. It was a deeper, more profound sense of loss. You weren't angry at him for having a father who cared just a little bit, for having a family he cherished. You were simply… sad. Sad that you never had that, that your only family was Luke, and that his arrival, however welcome it initially felt, couldn't erase the years of loneliness you'd endured.

Percy´s eyes darted behind you, to Luke.

"Why are you dragging her into this?" Percy demanded, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and protectiveness. He knew you weren't the mastermind, Luke was the one who had poisoned your trust, manipulated your resentment.

"It's not that hard to understand, Percy" you answered before Luke could speak. Your voice held a quiet defiance, a loyalty that both warmed and stung him. "We're together" you repeated, the words laced with a quiet strength that resonated deep within him.

Then it hit him, another wave of realization crashing over him like a rogue wave. It wasn't just loyalty or a shared cause that bound you to Luke. There was something more, something deeper that flickered in your eyes whenever you looked at him.

"You love him" Percy whispered, the words hanging heavy in the air. And it wasn´t a question either, he knew.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but you didn't deny it. "We understand each other, Percy. We know what it's like to be unseen, unheard. Isn't that what love is? Empathy, understanding?"

A tear escaped your eye, glistening in the moonlight. Percy could see the pain, the longing in your eyes, how you clinged to the only thing that hugged you back; Luke.

“You’re blind” Percy whispered, hand instinctively groping to the handle of his sword.

"No, Percy" you countered, your voice soft but firm. "I'm awake. I see things for what they are. You know what it feels like, right? To have one person who understands you, who truly sees you" you continued. Your voice softened even further, a hint of vulnerability entering the equation. "Sally, isn't it?"

He flinched at the mention of his mother's name.

"That's love, P." you said, using the nickname you'd once shared. The sound of it sent a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill from his eyes, mirroring the glistening in your own. "And to me, to us" you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "that's the most powerful thing."

Percy saw the love for Luke burning bright in your eyes, a love that had blinded you to the potential destruction you were embracing. He saw the pain of neglect, the longing for acceptance that fueled your rebellion. But most of all, he saw a glimmer of hope, a flicker of doubt that your tear-filled eyes betrayed.

The weight of your words settled on Percy like a lead blanket. He understood the path you were on, but he couldn't just let you walk away, couldn't let you be consumed by this darkness. The thought of ever having to fight you, to raise his sword against his own sister, filled him with a dread that eclipsed even the fear of facing Kronos himself.

With a desperate surge of defiance, Percy lunged at you, Riptide flashing in the moonlight. You reacted with lightning reflexes, a blur of blue as you deflected his attack with your own celestial bronze sword. The clang of metal echoed through the silent woods, a discordant note in the tense atmosphere.

The fight was short, brutal, and utterly one-sided. You were older, more experienced, and fueled by a burning conviction that mirrored Percy's own determination. A quick twist of your wrist, a disarming maneuver honed through years of training, and Riptide clattered to the ground several feet away.

Percy landed hard on the leaf-strewn ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He lay there, disarmed, defeated, and utterly heartbroken. Betrayal gnawed at him, a bitter cocktail of anger and sorrow.

A single tear escaped your eye, tracing a glistening path down your cheek. You knelt down beside him, your touch surprisingly gentle on his shoulder. "Percy," you said, your voice thick with emotion, "you're my brother. I don´t wanna leave you”

Percy looked up at you, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a storm of conflicting emotions. "Then why?" he choked out, his voice hoarse. "Why are you doing this?"

"Come with me” you continued, your voice softening further. “Come with us, Percy”

A long silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

"I can't, yn" he said, his voice firm despite the tremor that ran through him. "I won't be a part of this, it´s not fair."

A flicker of pain crossed your features. You rose to your feet then, your expression unreadable again.

A curt nod was your only response before you swiped a hand across your cheek, wiping away the traitorous tear. Bending down, you retrieved your celestial bronze sword, the moonlight glinting coldly off its surface.

"Then I guess I won't see you for a while, little one" you said, your voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions. Percy almost flinched at the nickname, a stark reminder of the bond you once shared. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, a suffocating feeling that left him breathless.

Suddenly, a hand clamped softly onto your arm. You whipped around, eyes focusing on Luke, his face grim.

"We have to go" he said urgently, his voice laced with a barely concealed panic.

You glanced back at Percy, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and steely resolve. A million unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a silent plea for you to reconsider, to choose family over rebellion.

But your path was laid. With a final, longing look at Percy, you took a few steps towards a cluster of crumbling ruins that stood there sentinel. Luke reached for your hand, his grip tight with a mix of reassurance and desperation.

Percy watched, a cold dread settling in his gut, as Luke traced a final line, completing the arcane symbol etched onto the column. The air shimmered, a blueish light pooling in the center of the ruins. It widened, forming a shimmering curtain that pulsed with an otherworldly energy.

Luke leaned in, whispering something in your ear. You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips for a fleeting moment. Then Luke, his face a mask of grim determination, looked back at Percy for a final time. And with a final squeeze of his hand, you both stepped into the shimmering portal. The blue light intensified for a moment, blinding Percy momentarily.

And then just like that, you were gone.

The portal spat you out in a blackness so thick it felt like a physical presence. The air was heavy with the smell of salt and wet sand. You stumbled forward, disoriented, hand instinctively tightening on Luke's. His grip was firm, anchoring you in the swirling darkness.

"Whoa, careful" he murmured, his voice a welcome sound in the suffocating silence.

He took a tentative step forward, then another, testing the ground. You followed suit, your steps hesitant and laced with a growing unease.

"Come on" he said, his voice tinged with urgency, "we gotta get to-"

He cut himself off abruptly as he realized you weren't moving. You stood rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on something beyond him, your grip on his hand tightening almost painfully.

Luke turned you gently, his brow furrowed in concern as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes. The moonlight, pale and ghostly, illuminated the glistening tracks on your cheeks.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry. He cupped your face in his calloused hands, his touch a familiar comfort in the unsettling darkness.

You choked back a sob, the tears overflowing again. "Am I doing the right thing, Luke?" you whispered, your voice barely audible above the crashing waves. "I lost my family, again. Percy. He doesn’t-…”

The raw pain in your voice tore at his heart. He knew this path, this rebellion, would come at a cost, but seeing the emotional toll it was taking on you was a gut punch.

"Hey, hey, look at me" he coaxed, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. His gaze was steady, filled with a fierce loyalty that had always been a source of strength for you.

"We were on this path way before Percy arrived, remember?" he asked, his voice firm yet soothing.

You nodded slowly, a single tear tracing a path down your cheek.

"I need you to be strong for me, angel” he continued, his thumb brushing away the tear. "You´re what keeps me going."

He placed a tender kiss on your forehead. "I'll give you everything" he murmured, his voice a low promise. "I promise I'll give you the life you deserve"

Then, he trailed a line of kisses down your cheek, his lips lingering on yours in a final, lingering and sweet kiss.

It was meant to be a reassurance, but it sent a wave of conflicting emotions crashing through you. There was comfort in his touch, a flicker of the love you shared, but it was overshadowed by a gnawing doubt.

When you finally pulled back, a shaky breath escaping your lips, Luke took your hand, his touch gentle yet firm. He looked out at the vast expanse of ocean, then scanned the horizon.

You followed his gaze, squinting through the darkness. A faint flicker of white lights danced in the distance, a beacon in the vast blackness.

"Come on" he said, his voice tinged with newfound purpose. "We gotta get to the cruise."

[i-mmunity]

one year with luke castellan

↳ january 14 (again) featuring mr. d

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you and luke have a great day, and mr. d remembers he is not getting paid enough for this

content: the caught kissing trope my beloved

notes: gifting you all a sunshine pov for the finale <3 for @luvieborealis this whole series was for u

The usually calm and serene arts and crafts cabin is rather tense today.

“Luke, please,” Annabeth begs, her eyes softened and her hands clasped together. It’s the same trick she’s been pulling ever since she first met him, the sad eyes that always make Luke feel guilty and give in. “Grover’s sick so he can’t bring us, but Sally’s making special blue blueberry muffins tonight. What kind of people would we be if we canceled?”

The guilt tripping works, sure, but Luke’s a man who’s made prior commitments. And as a guy with some big plans, these prior commitments are especially important.

“I really can’t take you guys today, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Percy presses. He tilts his head at him, squinting and scrutinizing. “What are you doing today that’s more important?”

Luke shrugs, trying for nonchalance. “I’m busy.”

You snicker at his side, adding another knot into your friendship bracelet.

Luke had dragged you away from your volleyball tournament just after lunch to teach him how to draw, and even though he’d given up after a couple of minutes and begged for you to do something else instead, he’d at least tried, which you think is admirable.

(It’d gone a lot better than your attempt last week at teaching him to paint, at least. He’d sat and watched as you worked the entire time and hadn’t picked up his paintbrush once.)

You’d ended up shifting over to bracelet making, a much simpler art. But the kids ambushed him about fifteen minutes ago, so his bracelet sits mostly unfinished in front of him.

“Why are you being so mysterious?” you can’t help but ask.

“Percy’s being nosy,” he says, gesturing at the kid like he’s not there. “I don’t have to tell them anything if I don’t want to.”

“Scared of being teased by kids?” you ask, amusement creeping into your words. You look up at Percy and Annabeth, smiling. “Me and Luke were going to make plans for tonight.”

“Oh,” they say in unison.

Though Annabeth doesn’t seem too surprised, Percy is clearly a little shocked, a reaction you seem to get pretty often these days. Even though you and Luke have stopped bickering nearly as much as you used to, people look at you like you’ve grown another head whenever they find out that the two of you are actually close now.

A little more than close, actually.

“What were you guys planning on doing?” Annabeth asks, not prying, just curious.

Percy must let his frustration get the best of him, because rather unhelpfully, he says, “Probably vandalize my cabin again.”

Luke gives him a flat look. “Percy. How many times am I gonna have to tell you that that wasn’t me?”

He puts his hands up. “Look, I’m just saying the timing was really convenient—”

“Special blue blueberry muffins sound really great,” you say, stopping Percy before he can start on this topic again.

He’s still convinced Luke had something to do with the little bags of alive goldfish left all around Cabin Three, and has been pestering him for a confession ever since. Luke hadn’t been the one to do it—you’d both watched the Stolls hop in and out of one of the windows with the bags in their hands—but Percy refuses to believe it could've been anyone but him.

You tie off the end of your bracelet and cut off the extra string while Luke shrugs next to you.

“The muffins are great,” he admits, letting you fuss with his wrist so you can loop the bracelet around it. “But we already have plans, so I’m not going. And neither are they, I guess.”

The kids protest vehemently, but both of you ignore it, looking instead at the woven string around his wrist. Luke runs his opposite thumb over the chevron pattern before kissing the side of your face and mumbling out a thank you.

His bracelet for you has taken a little longer since he’s had to redo a few knots, but it’s still turning out very nicely. He’s also not nearly as bad at bracelet making as he had claimed to be earlier, and you have the sneaking suspicion that he was just pretending to not know how so you would hold his hands while you showed him.

“Anyway,” you start. “Me and Luke didn’t really have any real plans. So if he doesn’t care, he’s all yours today.”

Percy and Annabeth burst into cheers, and you think for a second Percy’s about to bow down and thank you. You’re awfully amused, but you turn to Luke and see the clear signs of panic in his eyes.

“That’s not true,” he protests quickly, catching Annabeth’s hand in mid-air when she tries to high-five Percy. “We do have plans. She just forgot.”

You give him a weird look that he returns.

You’d literally talked at length an hour ago about how you had no idea what you should do tonight, and here Luke is, lying to the kids about having plans.

He must not want to take them really bad.

“Oh, yeah,” you say slowly, watching as the terror on Luke’s face eases up. “My bad, I forgot. We have that thing later.”

“Yep,” he agrees, waving the kids away from the two of you. “We have that thing. So it’s not even possible for either of us to take you.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Annabeth huffs. “It doesn’t even seem like either of you know what the thing is.”

“Big plans, Annabeth,” he insists, getting up from his seat when neither of them stop looming over him like two dark clouds. He grabs them both by the back of their shirts and drags them towards the door, depositing them on the other side like they’re nothing more than decorative furniture.

“Can you please just consider it?” she begs.

Luke leans against the doorway, looking up at the sky while he pretends like he’s thinking about it.

“Fine. I might consider it. Now get out.”

She groans, giving him a mean glare. “Seriously? ‘I might consider it’ is basically a no, and you know it. You’re not going to think about it.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to tell you that myself,” he says cheerily, giving her a sympathetic pat on her shoulder. “You’re absolutely right.”

“You won’t even think about it? Not even for your sister?” Percy tries, the both of them masters at the guilt card.

“I think she’ll survive another few weeks without a blueberry muffin.”

Annabeth crosses her arms, immediately forcing Luke into one of their quick conversation-arguments you always have trouble following.

Admittedly, you feel bad for them. As someone who used to argue with Luke on a daily basis, you are unfortunately very familiar with how stubborn he can be once he’s made up his mind.

Once, you’d argued over a stupid fact for an entire day because he refused to go back on his original opinion. It’d been “the principle of the thing,” apparently, and he’d argued and argued and argued even after you’d literally taken out an entire book to prove him wrong.

Percy would probably have to hold Luke at gunpoint before he agreed to skip out on your plans tonight, whether they were real or not.

“Sorry, guys,” you say, giving them a sympathetic smile you hope they can see. “Maybe next time.”

All hope that might’ve been swimming in their eyes dies out immediately, and it makes you feel bad. The two of them grumble their entire way out of the cabin, huffing and complaining about how unfair Luke is.

When he kicks the door shut, he turns to you with a massive grin playing on his face. He practically dances all the way back to his seat, sitting down next to you with a relieved sigh.

You give him a look. “You could’ve been nicer.”

He shrugs, focusing again on his bracelet. He looks pleased with how it’s turned out, a chain of sunflowers that he’ll wrap around your wrist when he’s done.

“Don’t worry. They’ll get over it.”

—

Percy and Annabeth do not get over it.

You catch them talking to Mr. D on the porch of the Big House—presumably about going into Manhattan by themselves—and the conversation goes about exactly as you’d expect.

He laughs in their faces, and they walk away, dejected. When you see the look Percy gives Luke, you tell him it’s probably for the best that you both stay clear of any body of water for the near future.

And sometime after you’d left the arts and crafts cabin, you’d seen Annabeth by the volleyball courts. You’d waved at her from across the grass, but she’d done nothing but stare menacingly at you, even letting the volleyball hit the floor right in front of her.

“The look she was giving me was scary! It felt like I was in a horror movie,” you complain to Luke out by the fields. “Those kids are haunting me.”

“You serious?” He curls his sword around yours while you’re distracted and whips it into the dirt, the clatter of it kicking up dust. “You didn’t even do anything. I was the one who kicked them out.”

“I lied to them, though,” you huff, putting your hands on your hips. “Do you not feel bad? They’re always so excited coming back from Manhattan, and they’ve probably been looking forward to this all month. Percy probably just wanted to see his mom.”

Luke doesn’t answer, too busy appreciating the disarm maneuver he’d just done. “Was that three hundred eight to three hundred nine?”

“Luke, I know for a fact you aren’t counting our wins right now.”

“Yep. I’m not. Sorry, babe.”

He hands you your sword again, and you take it from him mindlessly, still thinking about the frown on their faces when Mr. D had laughed at them.

And you thought you’d been mean! Mr. D was a different kind of evil for laughing at them.

“He isn’t special for missing his mom,” Luke jokes, giving you a toothy grin. “He’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

It falls flat when you don’t laugh.

He clears his throat. “Look, Sunshine, you’re too nice. Just cause they’re kids doesn’t mean you can’t say no to them.”

“We could’ve both gone with them,” you suggest. “And we would’ve all gotten what we wanted. We didn’t even have any actual plans, Luke. I can’t help but feel bad.”

Realizing you actually do feel guilty about it, he sheathes his sword before dragging you closer. He even rubs soothing circles into your upper arms because it’s something that always seems to work on you, and your chest warms at how sweet he is.

“I’ll talk to Mr. D later,” he offers. “I’ll convince him to reschedule their trip when Grover’s feeling better, okay?”

“You will?”

“Of course I would, if it’d make you feel better.”

“It would,” you say honestly. “Thank you, Luke. You’re the best.”

“It’s no problem,” he answers, grinning. “But, uh…”

“But?”

“I think my disarm from just now should still count towards my score.”

“You’re still thinking about that?” you ask, and he’s quick to nod. “That shouldn’t have counted, I was distracted.”

“Gotta pay better attention, then,” he chides.

He’s smiling at you, his eyes lit up, and you try not to feel too bad when you pull his sword out from where it’s sheathed against his hip and hold it up to his neck.

“Should this count as my three-hundred tenth win, then?” you tease, watching realization bloom on his face. “Cause you were distracted.”

It takes a second for realization to bloom on his face, but then he shakes his head, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“We can’t just count everything as a win, you know. We weren’t even fighting.”

“I think I deserve it, though.”

“You think so?” Luke takes another step closer to you, making you back up—right into the point of a dagger.

You pat your side with your free hand, expecting to feel your blade, but coming up empty.

“Should this count as my three-hundred ninth win?” Luke repeats in a bad imitation of your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

You slip his sword back into the spot at his hip while he puts your dagger back safely in the inside pocket of your jacket.

“I still have no clue how you manage to steal stuff from right under my nose,” you say while the two of you make your way back to the pavilion for dinner. Your hands brush against each other as you walk, your matching bracelets wrapped around both of your wrists.

Luke makes that face that tells you he’s about to make a stupid joke, and you almost laugh at how predictable his humor can be.

“Like the way I stole your heart?” the two of you say in unison.

The smirk flickers off his face. “How’d you know I was about to say that?”

“I could feel it in my bones.” You link your hands together while the two of you head past the Big House. “I have a sixth sense for your jokes.”

“Maybe that means we’re both just really funny.”

“Funny? That’s not the word I’d use to—”

You’re pulled to an abrupt stop when Luke stops walking, your body jerking backwards where your hands are still connected.

“Wait, I just realized I forgot something in here,” he says, nodding to your left. “Do you mind coming in with me? I’ll make it quick.”

The two of you are outside the arts and crafts cabin again, the curtains drawn shut over the windows and the lights outside the door turned off.

You shake your head. “Course not.”

You were planning on making up a fake detour to spend an extra few minutes with him anyway, and now you don’t even have to. Your fingers slip out of his grasp as you jog ahead, opening the door for him.

“Ladies first,” you insist.

“Funny,” he says, following you up the steps.

“What’d you forget, anyway?” you ask, peering into the dark room. It’s impossible to see anything past the threshold of the door, and it kind of freaks you out.

Luke leans against the opposite side of the doorframe, but he makes no move to go in. He’s just smiling at you.

All he says is, “Ladies first, I thought?”

You roll your eyes before stepping over the threshold. “How chivalrous.”

With the sun long set by now, the cabin is pitch black, but behind the divider that splits the cabin into two sections, you see the brief flicker of candle light.

You feel along the wall for the light switch but find warmth instead — Luke’s hand.

He links your hands together again as he shuts the door behind you, leaving the both of you in utter darkness.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up. You plant your feet, making him stumble slightly.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you lure me here to murder me?”

He sputters behind you, and he spins you around to look at him despite there being no way he can see your face. “The fuck?”

“This feels like a horror movie. You do realize that, right?”

Luke guffaws. “No, I’m not here to murder you, are you insane?”

“That’s good, then. I was worried. You wouldn’t beat me in a fight.”

“My three-hundred and nine wins say otherwise,” he quips, making sure to emphasize the fake win he’s added to his real score. “And hey, if I was a murderer, I would at least knock you unconscious first. Couldn’t risk my pretty victim running away, obviously.”

You shove him away from you as you move closer to the light source. “Hilarious.”

“I really do try.”

You see one candle and then two, lighting up the way to whatever is on the other side of the wall. You almost turn back to look at him before remembering the whole pitch black thing, so you just continue following the path made of tealights.

When you turn the corner, you find that all of the candles are surrounding something sitting oddly in the center of the floor. Luke lets go of you then, and you crouch down and crack the top of it open.

It’s a basket, you realize. And at the bottom of it is…

Food.

Your favorite foods to be exact. They’re arranged so gorgeously you almost don’t want to touch anything, but the light shifts and you catch sight of the sunflowers tucked into the bottom of the basket.

It had taken an embarrassingly long time, but you finally realize what this all is.

Luke wasn’t trying to murder you—he was going to take you out on another date.

“Did you do all this for me?” you ask, your voice wavering.

You can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “You think I led you here just for fun? I have the rest set up out by the beach.”

“I thought you were trying to freak me out with the dark room,” you admit, setting the basket down as carefully as you can.

Luke already has his hands outstretched for you, and you drag him closer by the front of his shirt to pull him into a long kiss.

You remember distantly Clarisse complaining about how Luke was good at absolutely everything he does, and you’re happy to say that she’s absolutely right.

Luke is a great friend, a great fighter, and a great kisser. His hands thread through your hair as the two of you stumble around the room for the nearest solid object, finally finding a table that he’s quick to help you on top of.

Almost immediately he’s pulling you into another kiss, but you try your best to get some words out.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you rush out. He’s standing kindly between your legs and is at the perfect height for you to smother in affection.

“‘m glad,” he mumbles, running a hand down your sides. “Sorry I scared you.”

“That’s okay—mmph—I was—”

Luke backs up for just a second, both of his hands on either sides of your face.

“Sunshine,” he says firmly.

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” you protest, swerving out of his way. “I have one more thing.”

He sighs. “Make it quick, please.”

“Is this why you refused to take Percy and Annabeth to his mom’s house?”

He gives you a look. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“Yes. Now answer.”

Luke kisses your cheek, laughing softly to himself. “Then yes. Surprise.”

He presses the next few kisses of his into the grin on your face, but he doesn’t seem to mind your smiling.

For a second, you almost forget about the picnic he’s prepared, too busy thinking about how cute he looks in his long sleeved shirt and how warm his arms are. You hadn’t expected this at all, but you honestly would’ve still been happy even if there was no picnic at all. You would’ve been perfectly fine if Luke had just dragged you into a dark, scary cabin to makeout with him.

He sighs against your lips when you throw your arms around his shoulders, and you shiver when he tilts his head to kiss you even harder.

You’d been a little spooked earlier, but the most frightening part of the night has to be when the overhead lights go on, filling the entire room with the harsh fluorescents.

“Alright, show’s over,” a very familiar voice groans. “Oh, great. It’s you two?”

Luke squints in the direction of the door, both of your eyes still adjusting to the harsh change in lighting.

“Hey, Mr. D,” Luke says weakly.

Your face heats up, and you pointedly look anywhere but in the god’s direction. You’d known it was him the second he’d opened his mouth, but it’s somehow worse now that Luke’s confirmed it out loud.

You glance back at the window behind you and wonder if Mr. D would chase you if you made a run for it.

Luke helps you off the table and you fix the collar of his shirt for him, bracing yourself for your camp director’s approach.

“I think I liked it better when you two were at each other's throats in the violent way,” he complains, completely unamused. “Please go back to trying to kill each other every other day.”

“Sorry, you—uh. Had to walk in on that, sir,” Luke answers, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence.

You aren’t quite sure what would happen if you opened your mouth to speak and don’t really want to find out. You look up at the man and see he has his nose turned up at you two, disgusted.

“You demigods get braver and braver each year,” he says, but he clearly does not mean it in a good way. “At least those troublemakers from a few years ago were smart enough to be secretive about breaking camp rules. And yet here you two are, in a rec room after hours, with all of the lights on! And you didn’t even lock the door!”

You and Luke meet eyes for a very quick and very confused second.

“You were the one who—”

Mr. D huffs. “Are you going to say something, at least?” he demands, crossing his arms over his athletic jacket.

You hesitate before responding. “We’re sorry?”

“We won’t do it again.” Luke suggests.

The god sighs, exhausted. He rubs at his temples furiously. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with you two. If only those curfew harpies ate you before I got here.”

“It’s not after curfew,” you say unhelpfully.

The face Mr. D makes at you is definitely classified as a scowl.

“Chiron is so much better at these than I am,” he complains, like this isn’t his job. Already moving towards the door, he gestures vaguely to the space around you and says, “Get rid of this.”

You and Luke look at each other again, stunned.

“That’s it?” Luke asks before he can stop himself.

You were honestly thinking the same thing. Compared to Chiron, Mr. D is known for doling out the more unfortunate punishments. You’re surprised he hasn’t already thrown you both into the woods with nothing but the clothes on your back, but you at least still know that talking back will make it worse, so you hit Luke’s shoulder and gesture for him to shut up.

Mr. D has a foot out the door already, a hand pressed to his eyes like he’s been blinded. “Just clean up. And then get out of my sight. Preferably forever.”

The door slams shut behind him, and there’s so much force behind it that it sends papers on a nearby table fluttering into the air.

It’s quiet in the cabin for a solid thirty seconds, with nothing but your breathing as a sign of life. You’re both standing unnaturally still.

“Luke,” you start slowly, unsure what to say.

Almost immediately, he erupts into laughter next to you, the sound echoing across the room and up to Olympus itself, probably. You’re absolutely mortified, but his joy is so infectious that you can’t help the shocked laugh that forces its way from your chest.

“I can not believe Mr. D had to walk in on that.”

He shrugs. “He could’ve walked in on worse.”

You snap your neck up at him. “Luke.”

“What? It’s the truth!”

You wrap your arms around one of his and press your burning face into his sleeve. “I don’t think I’m letting you kiss me ever again.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says, the smile on his face no doubt turning smug.

(He’s absolutely right.)

“I mean it, you asshole. You’ll be lucky if I ever even look at you again.”

“How long do you think you could go without talking to me?” Luke asks, pretending to think about it.

Both of you already know the answer: Not very long.

“I’d be fine,” you say, your voice wavering with the force of your smile. He runs his hands up your sides, drawing laughter from your throat. “You’d probably go crazy, though. Wind up in the infirmary with an incurable sickness.”

“Probably.” He leans in close to smatter kisses over your face, covering your cheeks with proof of his affection. “A sickness only cured with a true love’s kiss, I think.”

You make a face, but the adoration there is undeniable. “That’s dumb.”

Luke clears his throat dramatically, looking awfully confused. His next words are interrupted by his fake coughing.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide.

You’re grinning when you say, “You’re ridiculous.”

“I think the sickness might’ve already started.”

You put the back of your hand to his forehead, feeling for warmth. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I think so too.”

“I need medical attention,” he says through his smile. “If only there was an insanely hot nurse around to save me from this disease—”

You slide your hands into his hair so you can shut him up with a kiss, because you can do that now.

Because it’s January 14, which means you’ve been dating for three months, and you’re free to kiss Luke Castellan whenever you’d like.

Luke hums against your lips, drawing you deeper into his arms.

You’ll have to thank the gods that he was patient enough to play the long game.

notes: and it’s over omg </3 i had such a great time writing for sunshine and luke they are my everything!! its so bittersweet letting them go but thank you all so much for sticking around for this series :) i hope u enjoyed the finale and my apologies for how long it took lolol

[i-mmunity]

When I was writing the Fortnight music video, I wanted to show you the worlds I saw in my head that served as the backdrop for making this music.  Pretty much everything in it is a metaphor or a reference to one corner of the album or another. For me, this video turned out to be the perfect visual representation of this record and the stories I tell in it. Post Malone blew me away on set as our tortured tragic hero and I’m so grateful to him for everything he put into this collaboration. I’m still laughing from getting to work with the coolest guys on earth, Ethan Hawke and Josh Charles (tortured poets, meet your colleagues from down the hall, the dead poets). I still can’t believe I get to work with the unfathomably brilliant Rodrigo Prieto on cinematography and my team of dream collaborators: Ethan Tobman (production design), Chancler Haynes (editor), Anthony Dimino (1st AD), Jil Hardin (producer) and Dom Thomas (executive producer). Parliament aced the VFX as always. Joseph Cassell, Lorrie Turk and Jemma Muradian made these tortured looks come to life. The entire crew made this a dream to shoot. Thank you to everyone involved and everyone who has watched it!! https://taylor.lnk.to/FortnightMV

[i-mmunity]

Hii I’m so sorry if your request are closed, I didn’t see anything saying if they are or aren’t, but I was wondering if you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Aphrodite reader. I don’t really have a prompt in mind other than that. If you don’t want to write if or if your request are closed I totally understand and feel free to ignore this.

COLUMBA

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

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary: you were doomed from the start you were claimed as aphrodite’s daughter. you were doomed from the beginning you joined the hunters of artemis, you were doomed when you saw luke castellan

warnings: pre-tlt, angst, betrayal, alluding to kiss, main character death, spoilers to the last olympian, spoilers to the titan’s curse

a/n: ik this is not accurate to being a hunter of Artemis but i thought it was an interesting concept, so apologies and bare with me on this! also bare with me on columba being a constellation in pre-tlt. it’s all to fit the story and plot. idk if I liked this one as much. lmk if you guys do!

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

In every hero story, the protagonist had fatal flaws or in other words weaknesses. Superman had kryptonite. Green Lantern, the color yellow (in your opinion it was a stupid weakness). Annabeth has admitted numerous times her fatal flaw was hubris. Percy couldn’t tell, but his was his excessive loyalty.

And you?

Yours was love and love led to you easily trusting something which ultimately led you to your naivety.

So, you joined the Hunters of Artemis; trying to make the futile attempt to escape your flaw.

“I pledge myself to the Goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt.”

Your mother was not thrilled when one of her daughters swore off love and into maidenhood. Additionally, your charmspeak would not be proven useful as a Hunter.

One sacrifice for your life.

You thought it would be the perfect solution to escape your fatal flaw. Artemis required her hunters to reject all forms of romance. If you did happen to fall for a man, you would meet the same fate as Kallisto. If you fell for one of your fellow hunters, you could bargain.

It was perfect.

Until Mr. Greatest swordsman of his time weaseled his way to your heart (again.) The first time was when you arrived at Camp. It was your mother’s revenge: rekindling a past crush you got rid of ages ago.

Luke Castellan managed to flash you one charming smile when the Hunters of Artemis were resting at Camp Half-Blood (much to the displeasure of the hunters).

Your swore your heart beat at least twice as fast as usual when you saw him pass by and flash you a smile. He was as cute as you remembered yet mature and responsible. Quickly, you reminded yourself if you fell—Artemis would turn you into an animal.

“In and out, a week at least due to winter solstice.” That was what Artemis promised the hunters for their duration at Camp.

It only took you a week to fall in love all over again.

After another easy win of Capture the Flag for the Hunters of Artemis, you found yourself in the vicinity of Luke everywhere. He seemed curious. The girl he knew two years ago as the daughter of Aphrodite was now a Hunter of Artemis.

He thought you died due to monsters or refused to come back to camp. Look at you now, a beautiful silver glow and circlet complimenting the beauty you had. Your personality still the same. Aphrodite made his heart beat a little fast when he saw you again.

It was bad. It was really bad.

Guilt twisted in your stomach at the thought of breaking Artemis’ oath. You were not as distrusting and peeved at the thought of men like some of the other Hunters were. You were still relatively new to being a hunter, about a year or so.

You even began to talk to Luke in secrecy, so your fellow Hunters would not pull you away. You knew you fallen for the boy hard when he did some kind gesture. You were still a girl after all.

You should’ve stayed Aphrodite’s daughter. You shouldn’t have ran away from your weakness.

Artemis was supposed to come back the last day the Hunters were staying at Camp. Many girls, like Zoë, were glad to get out of Camp, out into the wild. You…not so much, but it would do you good. Yet, your mother’s plan for revenge was complete.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You asked the night before Artemis came back to camp. Hands twisting in one another as you stared at the moon.

Luke chuckled. The more he talked to you the more he loves your way of talking. He’s heard this question before as a joke from Chris, but the serious look on your face dispels the humor.

“Yes, of course. I’d buy the best damn place for a worm and take care of you still.” Luke reassured and put a hand on yours. Your silver glow fading and fading as your heart beat for him.

“I’m serious.” You conveyed.

“I am too.”

“Luke…I—” You took a moment to compose yourself. “I don’t know what will happen when Lady Artemis comes back tomorrow. She’ll be hurt and disappointed I broke my oath and—and kept this from her. I’ll be turned into an animal when she sees me—she’ll know…”

Luke hears the guilt and panic in your voice. He sees it in your expression. “Hey…hey.” Luke soothed and shushed your worry. “You told me you could bargain if you fell in love with one of your hunters. Maybe…you can do it for this?”

“I can’t…” You denied and shook your head.

“You are the daughter of Aphrodite—surely Artemis will understand.” Luke reassured you and pulled you into a hug.

“I was the daughter of Aphrodite.” You spoke into his shoulder.

“Maybe your mom and Artemis are fighting about this right now?” Luke suggested to try and make you feel better, but he knows better than anyone that the gods and goddesses won’t fight for their kids.

You fell into silence. That silver glow that all Hunters had had completely faded. Your heart hurt with guilt and shame. “Listen.” Luke whispered soothingly into your ear. “Whatever animal you turn into, I will not love again. You will be my first and last love.”

“Luke…you can’t just swear off of love . It’s useless—” You protested. You failed and you doubt Luke would be able to do it.

“I swear on River Styx.” Luke said firmly. The crush that rekindled after so long felt like fire through his and your hearts.

Your first and last kiss was shared by Luke Castellan. It was bittersweet and everlasting.

You confessed to Artemis with downcast eyes the next day. You broke her oath and met the same fate as Kallisto. Aphrodite would be mad at the goddess, but that did nothing to stop her from turning you into an animal.

A dove.

An ironic thing to be turned into.

You were visited by Artemis once more after that crucial day. It was out of pity. The Goddess, herself, knew you would succumb to your emotions as the daughter of Aphrodite. She had warned you once and yet you insisted on joining the Hunt.

You did not deserve a place in the stars, not with your story.

And yet, Artemis pitied you. She forgave you. She ended your life as a dove and blessed you to live in the stars. Just like Kallisto and her son. And soon, just like Zoë Nightshade.

You wondered if Aphrodite wept for you when a new constellation was added to the night sky.

Columba. A faint constellation with the Latin name dove.

Luke stared at the faint constellation as he laid on the battlefield, having stabbed himself. He was to be judged in the Underworld and condemned for all the crimes he committed by being Kronos’ Lieutenant.

Columba was made up of a blue subgiant and a runaway star.

Your story was a reminder that no one should run away from their fatal flaw. That other half-blood should face their weakness head on.

Columba. Luke’s first and last love. The last thing he’ll see in his life.

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

[i-mmunity]

Butterflies

Charlie Bushnell x actor & model!reader

warnings: smau, fluff

Summary: Charlie’s in love with you, you’re in love with him and everybody knows it.

a/n u play silena also i can’t come up with random numbers so i’m just saying liked by _____,_____ and others so js like know that reader is famous

liked by leahsavajeffries, iamcharliebushnell and others thisisyn acting with a hint of modelling view comments

leahsavajeffries pretty 🤩 ➔ thisisyn all youu 😍 walkerscobell can you give me some highlighters pleaseee 🙏🥹 ➔ thisisyn ofc! user56 GODDESS???? ynfanpage i get why shes silena hearts4yn irl child of aphrodite?? dior.n.goodjohn MARRY ME 💍?? ➔ thisisyn i have a boyfriend 🤭 ➔ dior.n.goodjohn ok

liked by thisisyn, iamcharliebushnell and others dior.n.goodjohn no way that crusty man has all of this, i’m coming for you so you better watch out view comments

iamcharliebushnell not you trying to steal MY girl ➔ dior.n.goodjohn she was mine first ynismywife not dior and charlie fighting over yn 😭 ➔ thisisyn ikr there’s enough yn to go around ➔ ynismywife OMG YN??? HIIII walkerscobell tell her to put some clothes on ➔ iamcharliebushnell she looks pretty anyway this comment was deleted hearts4yn stop this is too funny

liked by leahsavajeffries, walkerscobell and others thisisyn thx for the flowers char 🤭 view comments

aryansimhadri dior u need to step up your game ➔ thisisyn LMAOOO iamcharliebushnell your welcome love liked by creator ➔ dior.n.goodjohn tryhard 🙄 leahsavajeffries did u take that photo of the building before we poured water over walker 😭 ➔ walkerscobell THAT WAS YOU GUYS??? ➔ thisisyn oops ynfanpage they’re so cuteee honeymoon adorable ➔ thisisyn LOVE YOU LANA liked by honeymoon

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell and others thisisyn daisy is my first love sorry dior and char😔 i still love you guys 🫶🏻 view comments

taylorswift OMG SHES SO CUTEEEE ➔ thisisyn she’s named after the lyric from dont blame me 🥹 leahsavajeffries that’s so real of you 🙏 ➔ thisisyn ikr 😼 walkerscobell she scratched me ➔ thisisyn that’s her way of saying i love you i swear iamcharliebushnell can’t blame you darling ➔ thisisyn 😔 dior.n.goodjohn tbh she was my first love too 🤷‍♀️ ➔ thisisyn facts

liked by rickriordan, percyjackson and others thisisyn filming’s finished see you at the premiere 🔱 view comments

walkerscobell why do i look like that 😭 ➔ iamcharliebushnell you look like that all the time liked by creator ➔ walkerscobell i’ll leak your mewing pics liked by creator hearts4yn CANT WAITTT oliviarodrigo been waiting for this the whole year leahsavajeffries can’t believe the premieres tonight ➔ thisisyn same 😭

liked by thisisyn, iamcharliebushnell and others leahsavajeffries the show wouldn’t have been possible without this nauseating sweet couple we call our older brother and sister ❤️ tagged: thisisyn, iamcharliebushnell view comments

thisisyn love you leah bear ➔ leahsavajeffries love you too ynn iamcharliebushnell that was… oddly sweet ➔ leahsavajeffries don’t push it walkerscobell ngl wanted to throw up the whole time ➔ dior.n.goodjohn you were literally crying over the fact that they’re gonna get married at some point ??? liked by creator ➔ walkerscobell don’t expose me like that

liked by thisisyn, leahsavajeffries and others dior.n.goodjohn yesterday was so fun we should do this again sometime comments are closed

liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahsavajeffries and others thisisyn woke up to this handsome face comments are closed

liked by percyjackson, walkerscobell and others thisisyn GO WATCH PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS ON DISNEY+ RIGHT NOW 🌊 🔱 comments are closed

a/n school is actually going to be the death of me anyway hope u like cos i might not post for a while. ITS BEEN TWO DAYS AND I HAVE TWO TESTS ALREADY 😭

[i-mmunity]

Teenage Love Triangle

charlie bushnell x fem!reader

summary: you and charlie star in the taylor swift trilogy short film along with sabrina carpenter. (cardigan, august, betty)

warnings: smau, fluff

a/n STOP IVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS FOR AGES BUT SCHOOL IS JS SO UGH um so reader is an orphan her parental figures are taylor and travis (she’s not adopted by them it’s js they’re like that to her)

liked by sabrinacarpenter, ynln and others taylorswift can’t wait to add this to my short films directed by me collection (it’s really not that big) view comments

user34 OMG WHOS JAMES??? ➔taylorfanpage BIGGER QUESTION: WHOS AUGUSTINE??? ➔ user09 EVEN BIGGER QUESTION: WHOS BETTY????? gracieabrams been waiting for this 🤭 ➔ ynln same 🤭 ➔ hearts4yn they know something walkerscobell AHHH FOLKLORES MY FAVOURITE ➔ walkersno1fan WALKER’S A SWIFTIE?? ➔ leahsavajeffries only bcos of me

comments

user67 CHARLIE AND YN I REPEAT CHARLIE AND YN. hearts4yn IM ABSOLUTELY GEEKING OVER YN AND CHARLIE ynandsabrinarmyqueens “james and betty this” or “james and betty that” honestly screw james, betty and augustine should get to together ➔ sabrinafan REALL hearts4yn PLS MARRY ME YN 💍 ynloml i need a romcom with charlie and yn ASAP simpforsabrina i’ve watched this 20 times in the day it’s been released js to see yn 😭

liked by iamcharliebushnell, leahsavajeffries and others ynln folklore: teenage love triangle has to be one of the best sets i’ve been on (not js cos taylor was the director), i absolutely loved working with bri and charlie. and director taylor is an absolute dream. (wish she was the director for every movie i act in) view comments

taylorswift you, charlie and sabrina were perfect for this role absolutely loved this and working with you guys ➔ ynln LOVE YOUUU leahsavajeffries someone tell me if i can inject this film into me ➔ ynln 🤭 ➔ walkerscobell it’s giving druggie aryansimhadri now i have to do the holy trinity for karaoke night 😔 (i’ve been looking for an excuse for this since forever) ➔ ynln LMAO PLS DO dior.n.goodjohn google can i inhale a short film? ➔ ynln NUMBER ONE FAN RIGHT HERE sabrinacarpenter you and charlie were made for each other this comment was deleted sabrinacarpenter IT WAS SO FUN TO FILM WITH YOU ➔ ynln YOU WERE THE STAR FRFR ➔ sabrinacarpenter 🙈 hearts4yn context for picture 1?? ➔ gracieabrams yn js found out she had to make out with charlie on screen ➔ iamcharliebushnell wow i see how it is ➔ ynln it’s not what it looks like i swear walkerscobell context for last pic??? ➔ ynln taylor was literally telling you not to run around with the cameras

singing trio gracie, bro

gracie sabrina ur not slick bri I DELETED IT yn deleted what?? bri the important thing is to not panic yn did u js quote grover from pjo bri i’ve been watching it so i can prepare for when ur silena gracie 🙄 sabrina commented how u and charlie were made for each other yn SABRINA ANNLYNN CARPENTER YOU DID WHAT bri gracie i was literally getting to it yn yk what it’s fine i mean we should probably go public, taylor knows and she approves gracie exactly you have nothing to worry about yn i have travis to worry abt 😭 bri im sure charlie could fight him

demigod fakers char 💕, diorolor, cutie leah, walkie-talkie, rolling in the deep

diorolor dude WHY IS THE INTERNET SO CLUELESS walkie-talkie HELP THATS SO RANDOM cutie leah NO COS FR LIKE WDYM THAT YOU THINK YN AND CHARLIE ARE SUCH A GOOD ON SCREEN COUPLE rolling in the deep theyre a good offscreen couple too diorolor HARD LAUNCH HIM cutie leah OR SOFT LAUNCH WE DONT RLLY CARE diorolor JS LAUNCH HIM yn i didn’t know u guys felt so strongly abt this topic😔 walkie-talkie LAUNCH HIM rolling in the deep LAUNCH HIM diorolor LAUNCH HIM cutie leah listen to the ppl yn char 💕 why are there so many notifications yn dw babe

liked by sabrinacarpenter, dior.n.goodjohn ynln the gc forced me to soft launch him view comments

sabrinacarpenter i’d like to praise leah and dior 🙏 gracieabrams FINALLY leahsavajeffries NO WAY LET YOU TIE A RIBBON AROUND HIS MUSCLES walkie-talkie i think i know who it is ➔ ynln YOU LITERALLY TOLD ME TO LAUNCH HIM 😭 killatrav who’s this ➔ ynln i can explain…

liked by taylorswift, gracieabrams and others ynln they hung out without me but watched little women??? comments are closed

liked by iamcharliebushnell, walkerscobell and others ynln meant to post that on my private 😅 whoops here’s my bf guys view comments

iamcharliebushnell i love you ➔ ynln i love you too baby walkerscobell LOLLL ➔ ynln THE SOFT LAUNCHING DID NOT LAST sabrinacarpenter ur too goofy 😭 ➔ ynln stop 😭 dior.n.goodjohn HELPP ➔ ynln STOP BULLYING ME IN MY OWN COMMENT SECTION gracieabrams the panic in ur eyes when u realised that you posted on the wrong account 😭 ➔ leahsavajeffries 😭 ➔ dior.n.goodjohn 😭 ➔ sabrinacarpenter 😭

liked by ynln, leahsavajeffries and others iamcharliebushnell love you ynn tagged: ynln comments are closed

liked by walkerscobell, leahsavajeffries and others ynln lil photo dump for the end of the year, see you guys next year 😜 comments are closed

a/n WALKER AND LEAH GOT BANNED??? also i got sleepy near the end that’s why there’s not many comments

[i-mmunity]

Rage

charlie bushnell x ex!reader

warnings: angst, allusions to cheating, swearing

summary: reader and charlie break up and she releases an album

a/n why do i love this (i still love charlie i just needed some angst smau) 😭 also if ur names harper i’m sorry (lets pretend dior's 19 ok? ok)

liked by treepaine, user04 and 19,834,692 more celebgossip actor charlie bushnell spotted with harper elle. that doesn’t look like y/n l/n to us. comments are closed

diorrr

yn? u ok did u see the post? n/n pls answer me im worried yn if u don’t answer me in ten minutes i’m coming over about to leave the house read 19:45

leah my bae

yn u ok? i just saw what happened pls talk to me im gonna be there with dior read 19:51

rolling in the deep

hey i just saw you alright? i’ve given leah some food for you delivered

walkie talkie

yn i sent some flowers with dior hope ur ok delivered

char 🫶🏻

yn pls let me explain it was a mistake

you have blocked this user

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahsavajeffries and 23,089,54 more thisisyn men suck (other than my dad, my brother, my grandpa, aryan and walker) view comments

conangray fr (i’m not a man) ➔ thisisyn lmao ly dior.n.goodjohn the last pic is apple juice cos leah’s a baby ➔ thisisyn ^ hearts4yn charlie when i catch you ynloml pretty ➔ thisisyn all u ynismywife charlie start sleeping with one eye open walkerscobell is that a swear word i see 🤓 👆 ➔ thisisyn get out of my comment section aryansimhadri when’s the next album coming out ➔ thisisyn you literally already know??? user08 NEW ALBUM???? cinnamongirl motherrrrrrrr ➔ thisisyn childdddddd

liked by aryansimhadri, iamcharliebushnell and 3,457,890,211 more thisisyn my new album RAGE will be out on 29th june, womanizer my lead single will be out 16th june. view comments

oliviarodrigo omg the cover looks beautiful dior.n.goodjohn i’ve been waiting for this 🤭 leahsavajeffries new filming playlist??? aryansimhadri i’m gonna cover this walkerscobell r u smoking honeymoon the cover 😍 user34 charlie get out of the likes hearts4yn THE DIG AT CHARLIE? ➔ user46 wdym ➔ ynloml she’s releasing her single on his birthday harperelle nice cover ➔ ynloml get tf out ➔ hearts4yn the audacity harperismywife slut user6 she’s not even pretty harper’s prettier

liked by honeymoon, taylorswift and 121,476,392 more thisisyn haters track 6 is for you 🫶🏻 view comments

dior.n.goodjohn she fr is not better liked by creator leahsavajeffries bout to make sure someone else is hurting liked by creator aryansimhadri claiming traitor ➔ thisisyn u might have to fight leah on that 😶 ➔ walkerscobell and me user6 ew hearts4yn CANT WAIT

liked by iamcharliebushnell, harperelleismywife and 120 others harperelle in greece view comments

harperellefan fav couple hearts4yn hope ur happy ➔ harperelle i am actually ynloml charlie i just wanna have a word 🤗 🔪 ynismywife omfg user34 anyone else remember when yn and charlie went to greece

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhadri and 56,981,392 more thisisyn i loved performing my album RAGE for the first time. brooklyn you're an awesome crowd! view comments

dior.n.goodjohn ur literally amazing babes ➔ thisisyn u were stunning frfr walkerscobell I GOT DEATH THREATS FILLING UP SEMI TRUCKS ➔ thisisyn POP OFF leahsavajeffries you shouldve heard aryan singing 😭 im sending u the vid ➔ thisisyn YES PLEASE hearts4yn the way everyone was screaming fck charlie 🤭

liked by thisisyn, dior.n.goodjohn and 3,489,211 more concerttours yn ln performs surprise song, brutal from her album “life lately”, in dublin. comments are closed

liked by leahsavajeffries, aryansimhadri and 9,743,511 more ynupdates crowd at vancouver were seen yelling “f*ck charlie and harper” but yn ln is soon to tell them that “he chose someone else and i’m not holding him accountable for anything so why should you” view comments

hearts4yn mother is def mothering ynloml this is class ynismywife honestly she’s so pure for that

liked by walkerscobell, dior.n.goodjohn and 12,784,813 more thisisyn i got them by my side so why would i need you?

(i’m allowed to quote my own songs) view comments

dior.n.goodjohn can’t believe walker stole my noodles, keep an eye out buddy ➔ walkerscobell i’m scared liked by creator hearts4yn not the line from lonely

liked by aryansimhadri, walkerscobell and 1,674,811 more thisisyn why don’t i have any 0.5’s of aryan 😭 view comments

dior.n.goodjohn pls send me the picture of leah 🙏 ➔ thisisyn just sent ➔ leahsavajeffries can’t believe it aryansimhadri i’m just better ➔ thisisyn should’ve posted the photo of sleeping ➔ aryansimhadri no pls

liked by thisisyn, walkerscobell and 12,765,911 more celebgossip charlie bushnell and harper elle have broken up rumours say that she cheated on him. comments are closed

liked by taylorswift, leahsavajeffries and 34,520,921 more thisisyn my ep, REVENGE, comes out this friday !!

i’ve always thought of revenge as the younger sister of rage, i genuinely wanted to change revenge to rage (deluxe) but i’m glad i didn’t because now i can show u guys revenge as itself. view comments

dior.n.goodjohn summer anthem walkerscobell playing this during set rickriordan adding to my play in the show playlist taylorswift this is so rep coded honeymoon talent aryansimhadri too many covers i have to sing hearts4yn mother ynloml can’t wait !!

a/n deciding to leave it there cos i’m too sleepy and have like seven drafts to work on 😭 and can’t wait to see my husband in two days we were literally not fed enough last episode

[i-mmunity]

gimme ur fav luke headcanons 😏

DATING l. castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

a/n: hi soleil it spooks me what u will do with this information but i also got so carried away with this for some reason and i did in fact not proofread it

• he’s a thief. so obviously as soon as you point out something in the store, uttering a quick “that’s pretty,” he’s nodding and pushing you along to go to another section of the store, mumbling something like, “sure is.” so as soon as you’re not looking he’s breaking the tag off the item and sliding it into his back pocket because he knows that if you were to see him, you’d scold him for his habit.

and when he hands it over to you later without an explanation, you’re asking, “how did you buy this?” and when he looks away nervously, you’re quick to lecture him about why what he did was wrong—but he doesn’t care; he gets to see the smile and appreciation from you.

• hearing constant “i’m so sorry” when he comes late to hang out with you. he’s the head counselor and has so many responsibilities to the point that even begging mr. d to let him go and hang out with his girlfriend will never work.

so when he finally does have the time to hang out, he’s exhausted—beads of sweat from sparring evident on his forehead as he takes the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and tosses it to the ground.

and he’s trying to give you as much attention as he can as he shares stories from his day with you, but his adhd’s getting to him and his eyes are so, so heavy and—you finally ask him if he just wants to go to sleep, and he’s jumping out of bed and changing into comfortable sleeping clothes.

soon he’s back in bed with you, comfortable and grateful enough that the few time he gets with you is not as stressful as what he had to deal with before.

• omfg sparring is the worsttttt with him. he makes you schedule two whole hours, yapping about something like, “i’ll just tell any other kids who wanna practice to wait until tomorrow,” and you’re telling him how it’s not fair for you to take that practice away from someone else, and he’s rolling his eyes and leaving your cabin after pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “see you tomorrow.” when you do see him tomorrow, he’s already working on his footwork and smirks as you arrive. the next couple hours are brutal. there are no breaks. at that point, why did you even bring a water bottle?

because every time he has you pinned down and you’re grunting, your throat dry as you look over to your water, he tilts your head back to him with his sword and gives you a look that tells you to focus.

and every time he gets his touch on you, he’s ordering, “again.” he wins. “again.” he wins again. “again.” so many times that you repeat the same moves, and every time, his sword is lightly pressed against your chest and you’re muttering in surrender.

after the fifteenth time of hearing the word again, you drop your sword to the ground and shove him, knocking his sword out of his hands. you break down into tears of frustration, and he’s quick to explain to you that he’s not trying to make you angry—just teach you how to protect yourself.

• usually he’s the one to hold you in his arms and let you speak your mind; he’s usually your rock. but some nights, when maybe a new camper has gotten claimed, or maybe someone got a birthday gift from their godly parent, he’s laying in the crook of your neck as he suppresses his tears against the soft skin there.

he’s talking for hours, babbling about gods know what. you find yourself wondering: how did he go from talking about nick, his newest cabin mate, getting claimed as a child of apollo, to talking about what he would name a dragon? you didn’t mind, because at least now he’s not crying about his father and the stupid quest he’d sent him on.

eventually, after a long day of a fake smile and the stressful teaching of a six hour sparring class, he falls asleep, his last words of “i love you” resting on his lips.

• he’d been happy the entire night—the blue team, his team, had won capture the flag again. he’d had so much fun at the celebration afterwards, (or at least it seemed,) but now it’s time to get ready for bed. it’s 1:30 am, and you’re washing off your makeup in the bathroom mirror when luke comes in, reaching for another rag.

he stands next to you in the mirror, watching your reflection for a moment before his eyes flick over to himself. his jaw clenches, his eyes trailing up and down the left side of his face before he swallows and wets the rag.

he begins to wipe the dirt and grime off his face, slowing down when the cloth traces the scar on his cheek. he drops the rag in the sink and sniffles, walking out of the bathroom and into the bed. once you’re finished, you join him in your room and climb into the bed. you lay down, and he rolls over and rests his face in the crook of his neck.

you wonder why it feels weird for a moment, and then you realize he has his head tilted oddly so that the left side of his face is hiding in the crook of his neck. odd, you think, considering he’d been complaining about neck pain the day before. you lift his head up, hand tracing on his left cheek and he freezes, body tensing.

“luke?” you ask, your eyes searching for a reason to his odd behavior. you look at where your fingers are tracing; on the scar. you understand, and for a moment, you see his eyes fill up with tears.

you swallow and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his scar before resting your forehead against his. he closes his eyes with a pained expression. moments pass, and then he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time he doesn’t hide his scar.

[i-mmunity]

i promise, angel

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x fem!Hera!reader

𖤐 . summary - luke changes your lastname

𖤐 . content includes - luke being cute and lovesick, forbidden child because who doesn’t love attention, can’t really thing of anything else

𖤐 . word count - 1386

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303

𖤐 . a/n - ugh this is so cute i was kicking my feet the whole time 🤭🤭

you had a small feeling bubbling deep inside you all day, one that had only grown as the day went on. from the moment you woke up to right now, where you and your stunning boyfriend Luke were lying on a beautiful field, amazed at the bright shining stars above you. 

it was you guys’ seven year anniversary, which you had spent the whole day celebrating. you and Luke met when you were sixteen, and you had just arrived at Camp Half-Blood for the first time. you were claimed the second you made eye contact with him, by your mother, Hera.

it was an indescribable feeling that washed over you that day. you had already met other people before Luke, but when your eyes met his for the very first time, that’s when you felt it. not only did you feel the presence of your elegant mother, but you swore you met the love of your life right then and there. 

you don’t think Luke realized as quickly as you did, though, considering it took almost two whole years for him to finally ask you out. and that’s what you’re doing here in the field with him, relishing in the seven perfect years you spent with each other. you didn’t think the day could get any more perfect, but that feeling from before still gave you hope.

while you ogled at the stars above, you felt the gaze of your lover on the side of your face. your head slowly turned towards him, finding a soft smile rested on his lips. “what?” you giggled, grinning widely while your boyfriend shamelessly stared at you.

“am i not allowed to stare at my gorgeous girlfriend?” he joked, carelessly exaggerating the label. you felt your heart flutter, gaping at the man you'd loved since you were just a teenager, assuming you wouldn't last more than a year. 

you flashed him a pearly smile while he carefully reached his left hand towards you, tucking your hair behind your ear. it sent goosebumps down the right side of your body, emitting a squeaky giggle from you. “weeeell… i never said ya couldn’t look at me,” you shrugged, still brightly grinning at him. 

Luke sat up, grabbing your hand to pull you too. he wrapped his right arm around your shoulder and tucked your body into his, kissing all over the top of your head. “i wanna show you something,” he mumbled in your ear, standing up on his feet and offering his hand out to you. 

tilting your head, you looked at him suspiciously, “what?” your hand lifted cautiously to his. he rolled his eyes, grasping your hand and pulling you up with him, right into his arms. “just come on, it’s not like i’m gonna kill you,” he chuckled, lacing his arm around your waist as he guided you to your next destination. 

he led you back to the trail you left off from, walking further down it until you stopped at a lit pavilion. the lights that surrounded you made your skin glow with an ethereal beauty. Luke gawked at you, unable to tear your eyes from the mesmerizing girl that was standing in front of him. 

“Luke, this is beautiful,” you gasped at the scene, carefully taking it all in as you felt him take both your hands in his, holding them comfortably. “it is, isn’t it?” you hear him say, your head turns back towards him, finding him already looking at you. a warm blush creeps up onto your face, and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach once again.

he whispers your name, not breaking eye contact, not letting go of your hands. “Luke,” you whisper back, reciprocating the squeeze he left on your hands. he smiles at you, not a cheeky one, but a genuine smile. a smile that tells you all you’d ever need to hear, without even uttering a single word.

he lets go of your hands, gently making sure they are by your side before he reaches to his back pocket, pulling something from it but not showing you. your eyebrows furrowed, confusion etched on your face until he moved again. 

slowly, Luke lowered, his right knee resting on the ground. your eyes widened in shock as he looked up at you, revealing what was behind his back to be a white velvet ring box. “Luke.” you warned, as if there was any possible way he could be messing with you. 

but he wasn’t. he bashfully stared at you with a goofy grin on his face, holding up the box in front of you. your heartbeat sped up, hands shooting to cup your gaping mouth. “Luke,” you murmured, muffled by your own hands. 

he just kept staring at you, slowly opening the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring, one that reflected on the lights around you. you were so in awe, feeling tears pool in your eyes as your heart exploded. Luke’s voice muttering your name again was barely heard, but you still looked at him.

“i have loved you sniff since the moment i laid eyes on you.” he quickly wiped under his left eye before continuing, “and i knew- i knew right at that moment that i sniff was gonna marry you one day,” you smiled widely and he smiled back, tearfully chuckling. 

his name left your lips once again but he interrupted you, “no, no, wait, let me finish, okay? I’m almost done, angel, i promise,” he sniffed again, still holding the delicate ring box with his shaky hands. you nodded, signaling him to continue.

he called your name once more, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for your upcoming answer. “will you do me the greatest honor in the world sniff of becoming my wife?” he finished, a hopeful, lovestruck look pooling in his eyes. his heart stopped, the wait, which was only a few seconds, felt like hours, years even.

but then you squealed, loudly, freaking out at his question. “yes! yes, yes, yes! a million times yes! oh my Gods, yes!” Luke was still in shock, partially frozen, unsure if the words he heard were real or not. he quickly shot up onto his feet, barely having any time to balance himself before you basically threw your body at him.

your arms locked around his neck, practically choking him with how hard you held him. with your face buried into his neck and the ring box held tightly in his left hand, he wrapped his right arm around you, tugging you even closer to him, if that was possible.

you kept your hold around him but slightly pulled away, cupping his face you shoved your lips on his, kissing him so aggressively that he almost fell backwards. Luke kissed you back with just as much ferocity, pushing your head closer using the back of his wrist.

after a while, you finally pulled away, desperate for air. “yes, Luke Castellan, i will marry you,” you grinned, breathlessly. he smiled widely, pulling from you as you lifted your left hand to him. he carefully pulled your ring from its confinements, then he held your hand in his and placed it on your ring finger.

“it’s perfect,” you whispered, entranced by the gleaming diamond that decorated your finger. you were so quiet Luke almost didn’t hear you, but he did. his hand cupped your cheek, moving your head to look at him.

his eyes were glassy and his smile left wrinkles in the corners of them. he slowly leaned down, capturing your lips once more. one hand slid further down your jaw, keeping your lips close to his, while the other found the small of your back, leaning your lower body closer into his.

the kiss was delicate and un-rushed. you closed your eyes and savored it, wrapping one of your arms around his neck while the other, the one adorned with your new accessory rested on his chest, gripping his shirt and tugging him closer.

you both slowly pulled away at the same time, lovingly staring into each other’s eyes. you brightly smiled at him again, feeling your mother’s presence all around you. Luke repeated your name one last time, like he had all night, but ended with his last name trailing right behind it.

© sovksluv 2024 , please do not repost or translate my work !

[i-mmunity]

luke castellan x fem!reader

Luke has been making fun of your ‘unnecessarily absurd beauty routine’ —as he liked to call it— for the past week, so, you decide to drown him in it, just to see how much he can handle.

warnings: just a single use of the word b1tch, fluff at the end <3, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

i. the eyebrows

“Ow, ow, ow! That hurt!”

“No it didn´t!”

“Yes, it did!”

“Shut up and hold still”

“Ow! You´re pinching my skin, you bitch!”

“That was fully on porpuse”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the nearby bunk beds. Most of the boys, Luke´s half-siblings, gathered around you both, enjoying the show, eyes gleaming with mischief as they witnessed their usually stoic and confident counselor reduced to a whiny mess. Luke´s head was leaning on your thighs as you plugged his eyebrows with some dangerously sharp tweezers.

“See, that´s what you get for making fun of a girl” Travis Stoll, the elder of the Stoll brothers, joined in, a smirk on his lips. "We all warned you about messing with her” he pointed towards you.

“Shut up, Travis!” Luke spat.

You enjoyed the way his face was turning red, from embarrasment and because he was trying so hard to hold back his tears.

“You know, Luke” you started, plugging on another thin hair which earned you a little curse whispered from his lips. “You can always just, give up on the bet”

You found yourself enjoying the sight immensely. The perfect Hermes´ cabin counselor who'd spent the past week mocking your beauty routine,– here he was, sprawled across your lap, a prisoner of your tweezers.

“There´s no way in hell I´m letting you beat me that easily" he declared, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

You couldn't help but smirk. The bet had been born out of sheer frustration. For the past week, Luke had been relentless in his teasing about your beauty regimen. He'd mocked the meticulous way you cared for your eyebrows, the endless battle against unwanted body hair, the whining about the occasional pimples even when you spent a good twenty minutes locked in the bathroom cleaning your skin. He'd called you high-maintenance, a slave to societal expectations, and everything in between.

Finally, you'd snapped. "Alright, Castellan" you'd declared, eyes blazing. "How about a little bet? If you can handle a full day of 'girl stuff,' I'll clean your cabin for a week"

The look of surprise on Luke's face had been priceless. He'd scoffed, of course, overconfident and utterly clueless about the sheer torture involved in waxing, tweezing, and mud masks. But fueled by his arrogance, he'd readily agreed.

Now, here you were, watching him squirm on your lap like a fish, a testament to his underestimation of the situation. A wave of satisfaction washed over you. It wasn't just about winning the bet, though that was certainly a perk. It was about showing him, in a slightly sadistic way, that there was more to "girl stuff" than he thought. It was about proving that self-care wasn't about vanity, but about feeling confident and comfortable in your own skin.

“As you wish, little baby”

Chris suddenly appeard in your vision, the satisfaction on his face plagged as if he was enjoying this more than you did. “You know, yn” he called out, you momentarily stopped, accidentally giving Luke a break. “Luke has a little hair situation going on under his arms”

“What!?” Luke blurted out. His siblings laughed again.

“He does?” you asked Chris, looking down at Luke and patting his head like a little kid.

“Oh, yeah” Chris smirked. “Maybe that could be the next step, don´t you think?”

“I´m gonna-” Luke tried to get up from his bed, hands reaching out towards Chris. He took a step back just as you grabbed Luke by his shoulders and pushed him down again towards your lap.

“I´m not done with you yet, tough guy. But Chris´ right. Get your hairy armpits ready”

ii. the waxing

You pulled out a box of waxing stripes. Luke, oblivious to the impending torture, was too engrossed in examining his newly sculpted eyebrows in the hand mirror you'd provided. A satisfied smirk played on your lips. The eyebrows looked fantastic – perfectly groomed without being overly feminine. Because yes, he asked you to keep them as close to their natural shape as possible.

“Shirt off” you declared.

His head whipped towards you, eyes wide with horror and disbelief. His half-brothers, mirrored his action, erupting in a chorus of whistles and catcalls.

"Excuse you?" he sputtered, h is voice a touch higher than usual.

"Damn," Connor drawled to you. "at least ask the guy out first"

You rolled your eyes. Luke shot him a withering glare, but beneath the bluster, you could see a flicker of nervousness.

You held up the waxing strips. “It´s time for your armpits, champion” you announced with a playful lilt in your voice. You began rubbing the strips together to warm the wax.

He whined, pulling his camp t-shirt over his head, revealing his well-toned torso, and throwing it over a nearby bunk. You stole a glance at his body for a microsecond, a slight red blush coloring your cheeks. His brothers were quick to start a echo of whistles.

He flopped down heavily on the bed, one arm raised awkwardly above his head. To your surprise, there wasn't as much hair as you'd anticipated. But that didn't diminish the sheer terror radiating from him. You stifled a laugh. "Relax, Luke" you said, your voice gentler now. "The tenser you are, the worse it'll be."

His brothers leaned in closer, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. You carefully pressed the strip against his skin, smoothing it down with the practiced ease. He held his breath, his entire body tensing in anticipation.

You inhaled sharply yourself, then you ripped the strip off in one swift motion. Luke let out a yelp that would have made a banshee proud. His face contorted in pain, and his free hand clenched into a fist. His brothers erupted in laughter, their amusement fueled by his pain.

"Alright, alright" you said, trying to sound sympathetic despite the laughter bubbling in your throat. "Deep breaths, Luke. If you don´t relax, it´s gonna hurt more"

He glared at you, his voice laced with a hint of betrayal. "Easy for you to say."

Ignoring his grumbling, you ripped off another strip. A chorus of gasps filled the room, and Luke let out another yelp, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

"See?" you said, holding up the strip adorned with a few stray hairs. "Not so bad, right?"

He wanted to murder you.

"Don't you use anesthesia for this?" he wheezed after a particularly harsh pull on his other armpit, his eyes watering slightly.

“We´re not babies, Luke” you replied, shaking your head. "Just good old-fashioned grit and determination. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss out on the full 'girl stuff' experience, would you?"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity —at least for Luke—, you finished. His armpits were as smooth as a baby´s butt. His brothers, unable to resist themselves, reached out and slapped the freshly waxed skin, earning them a swift kick each from a now-furious Luke.

iii. the skincare

"Skincare? Seriously?" Luke asked, sitting down on your bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You all went to your cabin to continue his so claimed ‘girl´s day´. You would´ve paid to take a picture of your sisters´ faces when they saw you walk in with a bunch of boys following you behind.

“Just lay down, princess” you declared “I´ll bring my stuff”

He leaned back against the your pushy pillows, getting comfortable.

“First time on a girl´s bed?” Chris asked, earning a few laughs from his siblings.

“Shut up” Luke spat.

You came back with your washbag, full of different products that nearly gave Luke a heart attack. You had to assure him that this time, this wasn´t gonna hurt. At least not the first part, but you kept it a secret.

"Alright, beautiful” you teased. “Let’s get started. First thing’s first. “Cleansing”

You dipped a soft washcloth in warm water and began gently wiping away the dirt and sweat from his face. Luke closed his eyes, a look of unexpected serenity washing over his features. You noticed him get loose under your touch, a slight smile playing on his lips, and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of surprising compliance.

“Wow” he said. “This is actually quite nice”

"See?" you said softly. "This isn't so bad"

He opened one eye, a playful glint mirroring your own. "Not bad at all" he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice “Guys, you should try this."

The Hermes´ cabin boys leaned in closer, their usual boisterousness replaced by a quiet attentiveness. They watched as your fingers moved with a practiced ease, cleansing Luke's skin with a tenderness they hadn't seen before. They saw you take some cleanser, and rub it softly against Luke´s skin.

They all exchanged glances, a new kind of curiosity flickering in their eyes. Usually, the sight of anyone touching Luke, let alone his face, would have elicited a barrage of teasing. But seeing you, your movements gentle and practiced as you gathered a gentle cleanser, they found themselves strangely mesmerized.

"Well, he looks chill" Connor added. "Could you clean my face sometime, yn?"

You chuckled, throwing a playful glance thorwn at him. "Maybe later, Connor. Right now, it's all about Luke's glow-up."

Next came the toner, followed by a light moisturizer. Luke remained surprisingly still, his eyes closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips from time to time. His brothers, bored by the lack of drama, started to get bored.

Just as you were about to get some eye patchs, your eyes drifted on a little tool inside your washbag; your blackhead remover. An idea came up to you.

"Alright, Luke" you announced, a hint of warning in your voice. "Time for the fun part."

You reached for a steaming hot towel and pressed it gently against his nose and forehead. He inhaled deeply, the steam opening up his pores.

"This feels so nice" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the towel.

A slow grin spread across your face. "Oh, it gets better" you said, an evil spark in your eyes.

You grabbed the blackhead extractor and, with practiced ease, began gently removing the unwanted blemishes.

Suddenly, Luke's eyes flew open, a look of pure horror replacing his previous serenity. "Wait! What are you doing?" he shrieked.

"Shh" you hushed him playfully. "Relax. These little guys gotta go. Trust me, it'll be better for your skin in the long run."

"But it hurts!" he whined, swatting your hand away with a surprisingly weak attempt.

"Just a little pinch" you reassured him, your voice a mockery he hated. "Besides, if you don't remove them now, they'll grow bigger and poppier, and that will hurt even more."

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as you expertly extracted another blackhead. This bet was getting a little harder to beat than expected. He winced slightly, then a defeated sigh escaped his lips.

“So, Connor” you called. “You wanted to be next, right?”

iv. make up

"So," you began, a sly smile playing on your lips as you settled into the chair across from Luke, "you think makeup is easy, right?"

"Shouldn't be that hard, I guess" he mumbled, trying to sound confident. Inside, however, his stomach churned with fear and worry.

You gestured towards your desk, which was now overflowing with an array of colorful tubes, palettes, and brushes – an arsenal of beauty products foreign to the boys' eyes. "Alright then," you declared, a playful lilt in your voice. "Here's a little game. I'll show you each product and you have to guess what it's for. Every one you get wrong? Goes on your face."

Luke's eyes widened in horror.

"Wait, what?" he sputtered, a nervous tremor in his voice. "You can't be serious!"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "But Luke, you just said makeup was easy. This is your chance to prove it!"

"This is cheating" he mumbled, looking betrayed. "You never mentioned makeup in the bet!"

"Technically," you countered, holding up a finger, "it's still 'girl stuff’, as you call it”

A groan escaped Luke's lips. He shot a desperate glance towards his brothers, hoping for some kind of intervention. Charles Beckendorf, who allegedly decided to join the fun, just grinned towards him.

"Don't chicken out now, Luke" he said, arms crossed over his chest. "You can always give up on the bet and let her win”

Luke glared at his friend, silently cursing the day he ever agreed to this ridiculous wager. He sighed dramatically, slumping back on the bed. "Fine" he mumbled, defeated. "At least try your best to make me look decent."

“That´s not gonna be on me, dear”

You couldn't help but laugh at his misery. You reached across the desk, picking up a sleek black tube with a silver cap. It felt cool and smooth in your hand.

"What do you think this is?" you asked, holding it up for him to see.

Luke squinted at the tube, his brow furrowed in concentration. He recalled seeing something similar in movies, actresses applying it with a flick of their wrist. An idea flickered in his mind.

"Eyeliner?" he ventured, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Huh, correct”

You set the eyeliner aside, a mischievous glint returning to your eyes. Next up, you picked up a thin, wooden-looking tool with a pointed tip. There was a small, round piece of what looked like colored chalk attached to the end.

"Alright," you announced, "round two. What is this?"

Luke studied the object carefully. It did resemble a pencil, but the colored tip threw him off. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything similar he'd seen in the vast array of makeup products on your desk.

"Uh… a pencil?" he finally ventured, his voice lacking conviction.

You burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cabin. Tears welled up in your eyes quickly, blurring your vision slightly.

"A pencil, Luke?" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your cheek. "It’s a lip liner"

Luke's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Lip liner?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. "For what? Do I need to draw on a bigger mouth?" He gestured to his own lips, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

You shook your head, stifling another giggle. "No, no need for a bigger mouth. Lip liner helps define the shape of your lips."

With a shake of your head, you said, "Now the fun part begins. Bring those lips here, handsome."

Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face hovering a few inches from yours. The air got filled with a strange tension, probably because his brothers walked closer so they could get a better look. His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You´re lucky this is the same shade as your natural lip color” you whisper.

“Yeah” Chris adds. “Maybe you should wear it more often, handsome” he reaches out his hand to squeeze Luke´s cheeks, but he´s quick enough to slap his hand away.

“Shut up”

The minutes that followed were filled with a more lighthearted energy. You continued the game, Luke surprisingly getting a few things right – foundation, and even a surprisingly good guess on a shimmery eyeshadow palette.

But he wasn't without his misses. The concealer, a light, creamy formula designed to camouflage blemishes, ended up being applied liberally under his eyes, leaving him with a ghostly pallor that had his brothers doubled over in laughter. Then came the blush. A delicate peach shade, turned his cheeks a comical shade of fuchsia thanks to your deliberately exaggerated application with a fluffy brush.

His brothers, fueled by this new display of comedic gold, howled with laughter. Charles, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezed, “He-, he looks like a baboon in heat”

"Oh man" Travis howled, clutching his stomach. "This is even better than the armpit wax"

Next came the eyelash curler, that strange-looking contraption that promised to create dramatic, fluttery lashes. The moment you held it up, Luke's eyes widened in suspicion. He snatched it from your hand before you could ask him what he though it was.

"What the hell is this!?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of disgust and fear. "You girls like torturing yourselves with these things?"

You reached out and gently took the curler back. "No torture involved" you replied. “And since you know absolutely nothing about it…"

He tried to look defiant, but a flicker of uncertainty betrayed him. "I know what it is" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Oh really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

You handed him the curler and watched as he fumbled with it, his big hands clearly not designed for such delicate work. He eventually gave up with a defeated sigh.

"Okay" he grumbled, handing the curler back to you. "Do your worst."

The final touches were a disaster, a glorious, hilarious disaster. Every fiber of Luke's being screamed in protest as you handed the brushes over to his merciless brothers.

“Come here, Lookie-Pookie” Travis cooed, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he leaned in with a thick brush loaded with sparkly eyeshadow. Luke recoiled, swatting his hand away with a glare.

"Don't touch me!”

“Come on Luke, give us those pretty little lips. We need to make sure they're nice and kissable” Beckendorf joined, opening a little lip product tube he wasn´t sure what it really was.

Luke wanted to melt into the floor, his face burning hotter than the volcanic eyeshadow now smudged across his eyelids. The audacity, the betrayal! His own brothers, the supposed bastions of masculinity, were gleefully participating in this humiliation.

“Maybe some of this highlighter will make him look prettier”

He couldn´t believe his own brothers knew what highlighter was except for him.

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, a mix of horror and amusement washed over him. He never thought he'd feel so violated by makeup. But somewhere amidst the frustration and embarrassment, a strange sense of camaraderie bubbled up. His brothers, usually his biggest tormentors, were doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. And you, the leader of this whole mess, were practically glowing with barely suppressed mirth.

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he looked like a technicolor disaster, but the shared laughter, the fun, it felt strangely… good. He glanced at you, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Gods” he breathed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "This is the best day of your life, isn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that filled the cabin. "Hell yeah it is" you replied as you offer him make up wipes.

v. the reconcile

Night had fallen, painting the sky with shimmering stars. The campfire illuminated the campers´ face, its flames dancing higher as the Apollo cabin filled the air with joyful camp songs. Laughter mingled with the strumming of guitars and lyres, creating a symphony of pure summer camp bliss.

The fire itself danced in response to the campers' emotions. It roared a little higher with every burst of laughter, dimmed momentarily during a quiet story, and flickered with a playful intensity as the Hermes boys, fueled by their mischievous exploits, recounted their version of the day's events.

You sat by the fire, poking a marshmallow with a stick, watching the scene unfold. Their narrative, of course, focused heavily on your supposed "torture" of Luke. Specially the Stoll brothers; they painted a picture of you as a ruthless makeup artist, a waxer who pealed Luke´s skin off and left his face shining like marble. Meanwhile, Luke simply sat there, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You noticed the Hermes boys regaling other campers with their story, punctuated by bursts of laughter. And yes, you didn´t like to admit it but, you'd lost the bet. Technically. But watching Luke handle their teasing with surprising grace, a hint of amusement in his eyes, filled you with a strange satisfaction.

You were there by yourself for a few more minutes. The camp sounds filling your ears as you tried your best not to stuff your face in all the toasted marshmallows your sisters offered you. Your hands felt tired, because yes, even though what you did was not too much for you to handle, Luke squirmed and behaved like a worm covered in salt, which only made your work harder.

Just then, a figure settled in front of you. Luke. He held two sticks, each crowned with a perfectly toasted marshmallow. He offered one to you, his usual smirk replaced by a genuine smile.

"Truce?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

You couldn't help but grin, accepting the marshmallow with a playful jab. "Truce"

He sat beside you, the marshmallow on his stick disappearing in one swift, hungry bite. Suddenly, you leaned in closer, feigning seriousness. "Oh dear" you said, your voice laced with mock concern.

Luke raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it now?"

"You've got a blackhead. Right, there" you declared, pointing to a non-existent imperfection on his nose.

His eyes widened in mock horror. "No way! I´m not letting you touch my face again" He swatted at your hand playfully, but you were quicker.

"Hold still, you wriggly worm" you teased, pretending to grab his nose. A playful fight ensued, a flurry of limbs and laughter. You managed to land a swipe at his cheek with a gooey bit of marshmallow.

Finally, breathless with laughter, you both settled back down, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet camaraderie. As you bit into your marshmallow, a comfortable silence settled between you.

"So, about that bet" he began, wiping his marshmallow-streaked hands on his cargo pants.

You turned to look at him, still chewing on another marshmallow and a piece of melted chocolate. "Yeah?"

"I don't want you to clean my cabin" he explained.

"Why not? I lost the bet" you replied, surprised by his sudden declaration.

He looked at the sky, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, but… We're kind of a mess, actually. I would feel bad if you did it alone."

"Aww, Castellan, are you worried about little ol' me?" you teased him, squeezing his cheek playfully. He blushed a deeper shade of red, looking positively flustered.

"Maybe" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, here's a deal" you continued, trying to cover your own blush. "I'll clean your cabin, but you have to help me. I really don't wanna get into dirty-underwear-business."

Luke considered this for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. "Deal. But I'm warning you, there might be some things you shouldn´t even try to touch with bare hands. And I mean Travis´ and Connor´s bunks”

From a distance, a group of campers — a mix of Hermes, Apollo, and Hephaestus cabins —watched your exchange with keen interest. The playful teasing, the way your hands brushed as you made your deal — it was all too much for their already overactive imaginations.

"I bet you fifteen bucks he's gonna ask her out by the end of the week" an Apollo camper, Lee, declared.

Chris snorted. "That's weak. Twenty bucks says he does it tonight."

hiiya, just thought I could write something different to what I usually do. hope you enjoyed <3 🩷

[i-mmunity]

LOML BABY CUTIE PIE SNOOKUMS 💕🦋

SO THAT YOUR SEXY LIL BRAIN DOESN'T FORGET :

The lover boys ( Percy, Leo, Jason, Conner, Luke , Frank) overhearing reader talking about them and afterwards realising that reader is THE ONE for them

Mhuaw Mhuaw 💋

⋆⭒˚.⋆ can't have a conversation if it's not all about you! hcs

content: hcs for leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, percy jackson & jason grace warning: some language but that's it!! author's note: ta daaaaa! i like doing matching stories to one's ive already written!! and love love love how these match the other group hcs i did, probs gonna put it as a part two on the masterlist even tho i kinda isn't, ya know??? whatever it's my blog lmao-

𝜗𝜚 leo valdez

leo had no shame

originally, he had no intentions of eavesdropping

but then he heard you talking as he passed by the window of your cabin and couldn't help but stand nearby

and, boy, was he glad that he did

his smile was a mile wide as he heard you talk so passionately about him

that's right, you've been yapping away about leo for at least an hour

"and you should see the way he looks at me when he makes me laugh. it's just- it's just this wide smile and he can't seem to take his eyes off me."

leo blushed slightly at that comment, completely unaware that you had caught onto that look, the one he only reserved for you

"and he's the sweetest, always looking out for me. oh! and the gifts are never ending and he's the best cuddler i've like ever met. and, so, so funny."

leo was certain he was short circuiting, the wires of his heart fraying and twisting in unnatural ways. in ways that would make his mechanic father disappointed

"you must really love him," one of your siblings mused and leo waited with baited breath, leaning slightly closer to the window to hear you better

"more than i could put into words. i'm...i'm lucky the fates gave him to me - more than lucky."

that was the day leo started working on your engagement ring, determined to never spend another day without you by his side

𝜗𝜚 frank zhang

frank was a good boy, be it either his roman bones or his canadian heritage, he made sure to always follow rules and respect peoples privacy

...except for today

he allowed himself this exception as he stood in one of the many hallways new rome had to offer, leaning against the way as he heard your voice drift through the corridor

you couldn't have been more than a few yards away, your voice easily carrying to frank's ears

"he gives the best hugs!"

"bear hugs?" your friend laughed and frank's lips twitched upwards at the comment

"shut up! he's sweet too! so, so sweet! and gentle. for a son of mars, he holds me so softly."

frank stood a little taller at the comments, pride filling his body in a way it never has before

sure, lots of people have told him similar things, but something about it coming from you left the boy reeling with pride

"cmon, be honest. is he, ya know, the one?" your friend whispered but frank still heard it

he paled at the connotation, his fingers crossed as he counted the seconds in between your response.

"honestly? he's the other half of my soul. we're tied together and he's not getting rid of me anytime soon."

that afternoon, frank signed up for an wedding magazine subscription, wanting to keep up to date on the wedding scene, as he figured it would become important to him and you in the near future

𝜗𝜚 luke castellan

luke had taken a break from practice with his sword, laying on the ground all sweaty and grimy

his water bottle had long since been emptied but he was far too tired to get up and refill it

after a few minutes of rest, he'd finally decided the water would be worth the pain of his taunt muscles

as he made his way to the water fountain, he paused as his eyes caught sight of you and a wood nymph talking

he smirked to himself, moving closer with the full intentions of stealing a kiss but he paused as your words started to reach his ears

he then hid behind a tree, only peeking out every now and then when he knew you weren't looking

"gods, i've never met a guy so romantic. did i tell you that he stole all of my favorite bags of chips from the camp store? and you wanna know why? mind you, this is a direct quote, he said 'because no one but my girl deserves this chips to grace her lips.' like...bro."

the wood nymph cooed, the flowers in her hair brightening in color at the romantic thoughts

in fact, the red tulips were matching the shade of luke's cheeks pretty well

and that's quite the feat as the boy wasn't a big blusher

"and watching him train will always leave me drooling. you hear that olivia rodrigo leaked song, prison for life?? like, that's literally him!! he's so protective but in a good way, ya know??"

luke shook his head despite knowing the fact you couldn't see him

you've brought that song up so many times since you heard it, telling luke that it always reminded you of him

and luke would never admit it, but he listened to the song on his own time

and he couldn't help but agree with you

he'd kill for you and you didn't even need to ask him to

he'd just do it because you were worth any consequence he'd face after

"so, you love him?" the wood nymph questioned eagerly

and luke was just as eager to hear the answer

"...i'd kill for him, too. i'd do anything to keep him close, hurt anyone. hell, i'd tear down olympus for that boy."

and that you would, eventually.

all with a shiny ring on your finger, put there by the boy who'd lost his way

and you were more than happy to get lost with him, too, as long as it meant his hand in yours

𝜗𝜚 percy jackson

percy knew better than to listen to rumors

especially from sea flora and fauna

but, when the shark swam up to him with naiads in tow, percy couldn't help but listen

"lord! lord! you'll never believe what we just heard!" the shark cried, swimming circles around percy in his excitement

"go on," percy encouraged, briefly passing his hand over the shark's fin before the shark was mentally gasping in a big breath to do a long ramble

"okay okay okay! so, your lady in waiting had been talking with a few of the river naiads up stream. and she was talking about you, my lord!"

percy was silently waiting for the new information to come

he was well aware of the fact that you struggled to have conversations that didn't revolve around him

and he would know as he struggled with a similar issue when it came to you

"and she was talking about your hair and your eyes and your smile! oh, and she also mentioned that she thought you were the funniest boy she'd ever met, my lord! then she was talking about how good you looked in some shirt the other day-"

"wait, wait, which shirt??? did she say, like, a color or something??" percy cut in, leaning forwards as this information was important to him

"umm, i think she said navy blue?"

"yes! alright, go on," percy cheered, making a mental note to wear that shirt more

anything to keep her eyes on him

not that he had to try super hard but still

"and she talked about rings! ones made of diamonds or something!! oh, and your mother being at some ceremony and something about father's giving away their daughters?? and white dresses. does she like white dresses? the story get's a little confusing here, i'll admit, my lord."

percy could have drown right then and there from excitement

you were talking about weddings while talking about percy

he took that as a good sign

and he'd go home later that summer and shyly ask his mother to walk him through the process of getting married

for, uh, unrelated reasons, of course

𝜗𝜚 jason grace

jason was a nervous fella, not one to eavesdrop or listen to conversations that didn't involve him

nonetheless, he couldn't seem to pull himself from the cracked doorway

every alarm was ringing in his roman mind, telling him that it was wrong and that he shouldn't be listening in on your conversation

but you were saying such lovely things!

"he treats me like im gold, like im something to be valued and taken care of. gods, he's so good to me."

it was like a little benchmark report on how he was as a boyfriend

and you know this guy loves reports and numbers and spreadsheets lmao

pros and cons list's best friend

but at the moment, you were struggling to list even a single con

"and he's such a gentleman. i don't think i've touched a door handle the whole time that we've been dating. or opened my car door, let alone drove."

jason smirked, pride oozing from him at the comments

he worked hard to make sure that you never saw another cloudy day in your life and he couldn't help but be a little proud that you took notice of those things

"what would you do if he asked you to marry him right now?" your sibling asked, with a wiggle of their eyebrows and a taunt in their voice

jason's muscles tightened at the comment and they jolted to run off, but his need to know kept him right where he was

"i'd say yes without a second of hesitation. i'm sure we've been married in past lives and we will be in future ones. so why delay the inevitable?"

jason was shocked, a rare feeling for the son of jupiter

but, once he recovered, he went running to piper, desperately asking her what the best way to find out your ring size would be

and not for just any finger, if you know what i mean.

[i-mmunity]

a world alone

part four — the killerverse masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares reader

word count: 6.6k

summary: set before luke’s quest. you and luke take a well deserved day off at the lake, and you talk about the future

content: happiness. me waxing poetic about luke castellan via killers inner monologue about him lol, talks of having kids

notes: title from a world alone by lorde. this is probably my favorite chapter lol i hope you enjoy as much as i did!

Luke’s hands burn hot where they rest on your shoulders. You wonder if they’re going to leave behind marks in the shape of his palms, like brands pressed onto your skin forever.

The slight breeze coasts past your arms, tickling the bare skin of your arms and legs. The sun beats hot on your backs, but the excitement outweighs whatever discomfort it could bring. You can hear the sounds of the lake already, and you can’t help but turn to Luke with an uncontrollable smile.

The two of you speed up, listening to the sounds of nature and the crunching of dirt and gravel beneath your feet. Luke has been planning this day for forever, and even though he’d be stuck with two weeks of extra dishwashing, he swears it’ll be more than worth it.

The Hermes campers would officially be under Chris’ rule for a day, and you and Luke were free to take a day off.

“How much do you bet your cabin will be on fire when we get back?” you can’t help but ask.

He laughs quietly by your left ear, and it sends chills down your spine. “I’m trying not to think about that.”

The trees begin to grow sparse as the lake comes into view, so Luke slips your backpack from his shoulders, swinging it and letting it smack into his calves. The moment his feet hit the dock, the bag falls to the ground with a metallic thunk, and you sigh out his name, annoyed.

“I slaved over those sandwiches, you know. I’m making you carry me back to camp if they're flattened.”

He smiles, guilty, his hands frozen over the main pocket of the bag. The towels he’d packed are already hanging halfway out of it, the mat you’d brought to lounge on tucked under his arm. He’s practically halfway in the water already. “Sorry, chef.”

“You can relax. The lake’s not going anywhere,” you tease. Your shoulders brush when you nudge him away from your bag to rifle through it yourself.

Even though you poke fun at him, you can’t help but feel the same way. It’s been too long since you and Luke have had any personal time that wasn’t surrounded by other demigods. Your break’s been long overdue.

Luke surveys the best spot for swimming while you scrutinize the wooden dock. The old thing is riddled with splinters and nails and wobbly pieces of wood, but you find a good spot just on the edge of the structure.

The second your mat is rolled out, you collapse right on top of it. It’s an old plastic thing that one of Luke’s brothers stole from who knows where. The dark blue material folds into the shape of a bag so it’s easy to lug around, but years of lakeside lounges have worn it down — the strap that makes it into an actual bag snapped off a while ago.

You have to shove your hand to the very bottom of your backpack to find Luke’s sunglasses, but you’re quick to throw them over your eyes as you lay back down. The sun hits your skin and seeps the tension straight from your body. You wish Apollo were here so you could thank him personally; if it was possible to sunbathe forever, you would.

The rays on your skin are perfect. The lake is perfect. Being here with your best friend is perfect.

Luke moves from his spot by the other side of the dock and steps in front of you, eclipsing the sun. You peer at him over the rims of his glasses, unable to see much of him with the way he’s standing against the light.

“You look comfortable,” he says, rocking back onto his heels.

You prod at his ankles that are parallel with your face. “I am. Now move over, you’re blocking the sun.”

Something hard drops onto the wood beside your head, and your eyes shift to the container by your side.

It’s Luke’s sticky tube of sunscreen. The cartoon sun printed onto the front of the plastic is enjoying himself, his own shades pasted above a smug grin.

Luke nudges it towards you. “Could you get my back?”

You’re about to complain. He knows how much you hate the greasy feeling the sunscreen leaves on your hands and on everything you touch afterwards, but he’s making you do it anyway. Your eyes trail back up to glare at him, and you make it through a single syllable before your complaint evaporates in the heat.

He’s still looking at you expectantly, and he nudges the bottle closer to you with the point of his sandals again.

He’s trying to rush you, but you don’t really care. You’re thinking.

Yeah.

Thinking.

You’ve known Luke through everything. The terrible twos, your fear of the dark at six, his obsession with Pokémon cards at eight, and both of your awkward, gangly, preteen years.

In your head, Luke’s still your best friend that’s trying to relearn how to use a sword after he’d hit a growth spurt at fourteen. Whoever the fuck is standing in front of you now is not him.

Sometime between when you’d first arrived and had gotten settled on the dock, Luke had stripped himself down to his swimming trunks, eager to get into the water. Sunscreen he hasn’t fully worked into his skin leaves a white cast down his chest and arms, and you have to blink to see if the shadows are playing tricks on your eyes.

Luke had always been strong. But fighting off monsters thirsty for demigod blood generally did not require having abs.

Fed up with your staring, he pushes you over on the mat and places the sunscreen into your hand himself. His biceps shift and grow taut as he leans over.

“Have you been lifting?” you say, instead of anything normal. The tube of sunscreen feels like a thousand pound weight in your hand.

“Oh.” Luke looks down at his arms, as if he hasn’t even thought about how different he looks. He flexes just to show you, and your eyes actually widen at the definition of his arms. You trace the pathways his veins make from his wrist all the way up, feeling like you’re seeing muscles for the first time ever. “Yeah. A little.”

“A little?” you repeat, before actually laughing. “Dude.” You prod at his stomach, and he swats you away, red creeping up his neck. “Back in the day, they could’ve used your chest as like, one of those old laundry washboards. Since when do you work out?”

For a second, his face falls. The light air that’s been sitting between you two feels tainted. Luke shifts his eyes from your face to a spot behind your head, and you realize you’ve been walking carelessly through a landmine.

“Just, since…” He goes quiet for another few seconds. “Since Michael’s quest.”

Luke’s voice twists in a way it only does when he talks about things revolving around his dad. Your heart sinks with the weight of guilt.

Months ago, Luke’s older brother Michael had received a quest from Hermes himself. Him and his quest group had emerged victorious, finishing the quest with tons of time to spare. The three of them were treated like royalty the second they’d stepped through the entrance to camp.

Luke had never outright told you, but you know he’d been jealous. His relationship with his dad has always been rocky, but you think he wants to prove himself, for one reason or another. The bulking and the additional training… All of it must be to show his dad he’s ready. For his own quest, or something else.

Comfort has never come easy to you. But it does when it comes to Luke. A lot of the time, he just wants to be reminded that you’re there for him, even if you’re just sitting in silence. Words don’t usually work when he’s upset about things like this, so you finally pop open the sunscreen to give your hands something to do. He turns around without a word.

There’s a spot of white on his back in the shape of a smeared handprint where he must’ve tried putting it on himself before realizing it was no use. As you apply some more properly, the sunscreen disappears under your fingers, and you don’t even think about how gross your hands will feel later. You put on more of the lotion, rubbing slow circles into the broad stretch of his shoulders and then the dips of his back.

It feels weird touching the expanse of his bare skin like this. You’ve felt the warmth of him countless times, but always through a shirt or a jacket or that one sweatshirt that’s now yours. Luke’s skin is so warm it makes you want to slump forward and let him hold you until sleep takes you away. Absent-mindedly, your hands reach out to trace over a spot on his shoulder blades that’s covered in freckles.

“Killer,” Luke says softly. He pinches the skin just above your knee and your hands stop moving. “You’re supposed to help me put sunscreen on, not give me a massage.”

“Oh.” You realize his back has been thoroughly covered two times over. “Sorry. I got distracted.”

“That’s okay. It’s your turn, though.”

You sigh, slumping back onto the mat. He turns around to face you again, the harsh lines of his frown already disappearing off his face.

“You need to invest in better sunscreen,” you say as he works to undo the buttons of your old Hawaiian tee. “This one makes me feel so gross.”

Luke doesn’t say anything about your complaining. He’s too busy looking perfectly sun kissed, a light dusting of red across his cheeks glowing against his tan. He motions for you to turn over, and you oblige.

You don’t mention how you haven’t even put sunscreen on the parts of your body you can reach, but he doesn’t bring it up, so neither do you.

You’ll give him this. He needs something to do that isn’t sitting and thinking about his dad, and you’re willing to let it slide even if it’s at the cost of feeling greasy and gross.

“You know what’s even worse than the sunscreen?” he asks.

“What?”

“Skin cancer.”

Luke’s already grinning when you tilt your head to glare at him. “What even possessed you to say that?”

He laughs, squeezing the bottle of sunscreen directly onto your back. You flinch at the coldness, but it’s quickly remedied with the warmth of Luke’s hands. He doesn’t let the sunscreen sit for a second before he’s working it into your skin. You can feel every single movement of his fingers and every shape he traces there.

The slowing of his hands when he lingers at the scar on your back nearly causes a full body reaction.

“Thought we weren’t giving each other massages,” you choke out, just so he stops dragging his nails over the raised skin.

He hums. “Your scars look really badass.”

(Luke does this a lot — says something offtopic in lieu of responding. He doesn’t mean to do it to ignore you, and you don’t take offense, especially if it's during quiet moments like these. When you sit in silence like this, his off topic thoughts tend to morph into compliments.)

You feel flushed all of a sudden. “Thanks, hero. But keep going, please. I can feel my skin withering away under the sun already.”

You can hear the smile in Luke’s voice when he says, “Told you.”

A bit higher up, closer to your spine, he presses a finger into your back twice, each prod an inch apart. And then, just below, he drags his finger in the shape of an arc. He leans back on his heels to look at it.

You push yourself off of the dock, trying to crane your neck around to look at your spine. “Did you just… draw a smiley face?”

“What?” his left hand pushes your face away while the other swipes quickly over your skin again. “No. Stop moving around.”

“So that wasn’t you trying to wipe away the evidence?”

He scoffs. “I’m not five years old.”

“Sure.”

He wipes away the last of his sunscreen art once and for all. As quick as he can, he smears more into your shoulder blades, and the back of your neck, and the tops of your shoulders.

Luke pauses for a second, and for a second you think he’s finally done. But you can feel his hands move out of the dip of your back and higher up, his touch feather light. His index finger ghosts over the band of your top, and he pinches the fabric between his fingers.

“Is it good if I lift this for a second?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat of whatever’s blocking your windpipe. The fraction of space between you burns with heat. “You’re good.”

The split second he spends passing his hand over the skin there feels like it lasts an hour. A moment later, the fabric is snapping back into place, and he pats your back twice to let you know he’s done.

“Want me to get your arms for you?” he asks.

A weird wave of restlessness washes over you. You shove the cap back onto the sunscreen, your hands fumbling to toss it back into your bag with his sunglasses.

“We’ve been up here forever,” you groan, Luke’s impatience from earlier suddenly infectious. “I’m trying to spend at least some of our lake day in the actual lake.”

“Great.” Luke lifts himself to his feet and extends a hand.

The mat is warm under your feet when he helps you up. You can feel his hand squeeze yours a little too tight, and your stomach nearly drops when you realize he’s looking away from you, towards the water.

“Luke,” you warn, planting your feet and trying to resist the way he pulls you forward. “No.”

When he turns back to look at you, his eyes glint the same way it does when he’s waiting for one of his brothers to fall for one of his stupid pranks. And of course, he’s grinning at you the same way he does when someone doesn’t realize he’s nicked something straight out of their pocket. It’s the always mischievous face of a son of Hermes.

Ever innocent, he asks, “What’re you talkin’ about?”

You stumble when Luke uses his other hand to tug you closer. Dread spikes in your chest. He pulls you right into his chest at the edge of the dock, locking his arms around your waist.

You’re stuck. “The water’s cold, Luke, please—”

“You’ll warm up,” he promises, his voice sweet and low.

A second later, with his firm grasp around your middle, Luke tip both of you backwards off the dock.

The cold water jolts you out of the peaceful state you’d been in just a few seconds ago. The air is effectively shocked straight from your lungs, the water rushing past your ears and bubbles dancing across your vision. He releases you so both of you can resurface, and his laugh is the first thing you hear when you come up for air.

You make sure to splash him in the face the second you gain your bearings. “Asshole.”

The dark mess of curls on his head hangs over his eyes, heavy with water. He shakes it out like a dog, sending droplets straight at your face.

“Maybe if you didn’t always take fucking forever to get in, I wouldn’t have—”

You drop your tone and mock him accordingly. He splashes you again, grinning. The water has washed every remaining part of his frown away, the quest slipping from his mind.

This spot by the dock is shallow enough for both of you to just be able to stand. Sated with happiness, Luke lets his guard down enough to let you come closer and wrap your arms around his neck. You seize the opportunity to shove his head underwater, managing it for a few seconds before you feel his hands go under your arms.

You scream, your hands slipping off of his wet shoulders when you try to hold onto him. Armed with a steady grip, he tosses you straight over his shoulder and head first into the water.

His smile is what greets you when you resurface. He slicks your wet hair away from your eyes, laughing at the scowl on your face.

“I’m sorry, I swear,” he insists, pulling you closer. He’s using that stupid starry eyed look he always uses to get you to forgive him. “I’m done now, no more fighting.”

He puts both of his hands on your face, swiping away drops of water that track down your cheeks.

“Luke Castellan.” You sigh, leaning into his palm.

His eyes follow a droplet that runs down your neck. “Yeah?”

“I hope you can swim fast.”

When you catch him halfway down the lake, his laughter echoes throughout the clearing, joining the sound of the wind rushing through the trees and the choir of birds over your heads.

—

The sun has long moved from the high point of the sky when you decide to get out. Luke calls it a day when he can barely move his legs, thighs burning from swimming. You’d been clinging to his side for a while at that point, teeth chattering without the hot sun to warm the water.

Luke pushes himself up onto the dock and nudges his waterlogged hair out of his face. When he extends a hand to you, water runs down the slopes of his arms and drips down his fingertips.

He snaps his fingers in your face when you don’t reach for him. “The hypothermia get to your brain already?”

You grip his hand in yours, tugging him forward like you’re going to pull him back in. “Funny. I was actually deciding whether or not I should make you face plant.”

You dry yourselves off before Luke disappears into the woods for firewood — not without a comment about what happened the last time he let you go get it — and you set up your stuff on a soft tuft of grass as close to the water as you can get.

He reappears after a few minutes, his arms full with sticks that he drops at the foot of the mat. “There wasn’t much dry wood out there. Might only have enough for an hour or two.”

“That’s okay. It’s more wood than I ever managed to bring back by myself, anyway.”

Luke freezes from where he’s starting the fire, the flame of his lighter dancing in his cupped hands. He turns to see the shit-eating grin on your face. “That was a good one.”

“Thanks.”

Luke busies himself with the fire, letting the kindling catch while you take out the sandwiches you’d brought. Thankfully, only one of them is a little smushed from Luke’s reckless bag handling, but you set aside the nicer one for him anyway. You work your hands over the aluminum wrapping as you sit back.

“It’s been a while,” you say, just loud enough for your voice to carry over.

Luke tosses another piece of wood into the fire to feed the growing flames. “Since what?”

Since this. Everything’s the same. There’s the silhouette of Luke’s back, a shape you’d recognize even without the light of the sky. There’s the familiar warmth of the fire at your feet. And there’s that summertime buzz in the air — a sound you can’t place, but know like the sound of your own voice. It’s the sound of you and Luke’s nighttime lullaby from all those years ago. It’s been so long since you’d been out here alone together.

“Eating sandwiches by the fire. The woods. Us.”

He mumbles something that you can’t hear. Louder, he says, “At least the sandwiches are good this time around.”

You crack a smile. “That’s true. No more old peanut butter and crumbly bread.”

Luke had hated eating those things as a kid, but he’d toughed it out for you. The sandwiches reminded you of home. Even though the dry crust tasted nearly powdery in your mouth, you would close your eyes and imagine sitting under the tree in Luke’s backyard, eating a plate of sandwiches and drinking your mom’s lemonade.

You reach for the sweater at the bottom of your bag, tugging it over your top. When you pull out the blanket you’d brought, you’re surprised to see the bottom of the bag. You turn to face Luke.

“You didn’t bring a jacket?” you ask. He shakes his head no, calm and collected like he can barely feel the breeze that whips his hair around.

“You’re gonna get cold,” you chastise.

Satisfied with the fire, he finally settles down next to you. “It’s not even that bad out. You’re just cold-blooded.”

You hold the back of your hand against his neck, and he cringes away. Teasingly, you say, “You know what they say. Cold hands, warm heart.”

He tugs the blanket over both of your laps and opens his left arm for you to lean against him. You’d slept like this as kids, too, his left arm over your shoulder and his weapon of choice sitting in his right hand. You would switch when it was your turn to keep watch, the familiar weight of your knife in your dominant hand and Luke’s warmth coming from your other side.

But you’re at home now. You no longer have to sleep with the handle of your knife imprinted into your hand, and Luke is free to take your hands in his. He rubs his thumbs over your skin, his hands hot and soothing.

“If that saying’s true, my heart must be made of ice, then,” he says, no doubt feeling the warmth seeping back into your hands from the heat of his.

You smile, watching as he turns your palms over in his until they feel normal again. You probably would’ve turned into a demigod popsicle without Luke all those years ago, and the same is true. The mutual body heat was often the only source of warmth you’d have in the colder months.

Keeping each other alive is all you two seem to do.

After a few seconds, Luke tugs you back to lay on the mat with him. You turn further into him, soaking up every ounce of comfort he offers.

With your head tilted back, you can see the makings of stars in the sky, just beginning to fade into the blue with the sun setting. You’d have to ask someone to teach you the constellations visible this time of year.

Luke taps out a rhythm on your forearm, and then on your bicep, and then up to your shoulder. His hand finds its way into your hair, rubbing at your scalp before slipping down to the ends.

There’s a glowing form brighter than the rest just above the treeline. A planet, maybe. Or a star. You’d probably be able to remember if you weren’t so tired.

You can feel light tugs at the end of your hair — Luke, playing with the ends, twisting strands around his finger before letting it go.

“We’re gonna fall asleep,” you warn, but you’re much too comfortable to actually do something about it. His chest rises steadily at your side, the even movements drawing you closer and closer to sleep.

Luke’s eyes have taken on a faraway look to them, his hand still messing with the tips of your hair. While you stare skyward, he’s focused his eyes on the setting sun right ahead.

“Hey.” You link his restless hand with yours. “Can you start talking about something? I don’t want to fall asleep yet.”

He squeezes you twice. “You cut your hair.”

You wilt, your face already beginning to heat up. “Preferably anything but that.”

“Why?” he asks, turning to face you. His eyebrows knit in genuine confusion. “It looks great.”

“Not really.” Your own hand slips from his to pull at the ends self-consciously. “I love Junia, I do, but she cut it way too short. I can’t look at it.”

He tilts his head to look at you head on, a frown on his pretty face. He nudges a strand behind your ear, deep in thought, like he’s trying to look for something. “Don’t say that. It looks good. You just haven’t had it this short in a while.”

“I know, which is why I hate it,” you lament. “It’ll be a while until it grows back.” You’d been mourning the lost length all day, and thought Luke wouldn’t be able to notice the difference.

He flicks your forehead, eliciting an ow from you. “Always so stubborn. You look cute, killer.”

You let your hair that you’d worried between your fingers fall back into place. You squint at Luke for any sign of a pity compliment.

“You really think so?”

He seems to take offense at your doubt. “You really think I’d lie to you?”

It’s crazy how much weight Luke’s words hold in your mind. You know the next time you look in the mirror, you’ll rethink everything about the way you look.

When you settle back down without a word, Luke knows he’s won. He tugs at the fabric of your sweatshirt.

“You talk to your sister lately?” He asks, just to change the subject.

You look down at your sweater. Emblazoned across the front are letters that spell out UC San Diego.

“Kinda. She sent me and Clarisse a postcard and some merch from school. Clarisse refuses to wear the t-shirt she got, though.” Luke’s hand reaches out to trace over the embroidered letters. “Mel says she wants to visit soon. I can’t wait to see her.”

Mel was the Ares cabin counselor up until last summer, when she’d left for college on the other coast. You’ve missed her terribly, but you heard all about her life out there and knew she was having a great time.

“She’s almost done her sophomore year. I think she switched her major to nursing, or something,” you add on. “Kinda ironic, isn’t it? A daughter of Ares healing injuries instead of causing them.”

Luke smiles. “I can see it. Mel’s always been the nicest Ares kid I know.”

You huff. “Well, thanks.”

He pretends to think it over again for a few seconds. “Don’t worry. I’d say you’re tied with Clarisse for last.”

“Ha ha,” you drawl. “Fuck you.”

“Actually, you rank just above her, I think. She would definitely drown me if she found out she wasn’t at the bottom of the list.”

“Probably.”

Luke’s hand is still pressed to the letters on your sweatshirt, his eyes trained on the words there. Something begins to form in the back of your mind.

“Maybe we could take another trip,” you suggest. “Me and you. California.”

The amusement is written on his face. “As if Chiron would let us take another vacation. We barely got him to agree to the last one.”

“But he caved eventually!” you remind him. “And wasn’t it great?”

“I guess.”

“Oh, please. That was the most fun we’ve ever had, and you know it.”

(For your sixteenth birthday, you and Luke had managed to charm your way into letting Chiron and Mr. D set you loose in New York City. You’d been on your own for a day, spending your allowance of a whopping fifty dollars on two small meals at an even smaller restaurant. You had also managed to score sight-seeing tickets on a rickety boat that didn’t look safe to ride.

Luke had rubbed your back for you when you’d gotten seasick, and given you Dramamine he’d pilfered from the bag of a man a few rows ahead of you. You’d given each other an awkward look when the guy got sick over the side of the boat an hour later.

“Here, man,” Luke had said. He placed the foil of Dramamine tablets in his hand. “We have extra.”

The man nearly got down on the floor, thankful out of his mind. There were tears in his eyes when he said, “Thank you so much. I seem to have forgotten mine, and I get so terribly sick on boats.”

You and Luke were silent for the last ten minutes back to the dock.)

“We might have to wait a while to ask,” Luke says, giving in. “Chiron’s not gonna be too happy when he finds out we skipped out on everything today.”

“You’re like the camp golden child. I’m sure if you flashed your pretty smile at him, he’d give in.”

Luke turns away, smug.

The two of you settle into another bout of silence, thoughts of the sunny California beaches running through your minds. You can picture the both of you there already — a little older, a lot happier. Luke would probably take up surfing, because he’s that kinda guy. You’d have a Jeep, or something, driving to the beach with the top down to watch the sun setting over the water.

“We could always say we’re touring schools,” you offer. “We should probably be thinking about future colleges, anyway.”

Luke sits up abruptly, so you do too. When you see the look on his face, fear strikes in your chest. His eyes are shining with something unreadable, and it’s beginning to dawn on you that you and Luke haven’t discussed this before. You have no idea if he even wants to go to college, and you’re already roping him into your fantasy of school on the west coast.

“You want that?” he asks, quiet.

“I think so,” you say honestly. “I kinda just assumed we’d go somewhere together.”

Luke is silent, his face a complete mix of emotions that you can’t tell are good or bad.

It sounds beyond dramatic, but it feels like the rest of your life is riding on the rest of this conversation. There’s no future for you without Luke in it.

Your voice is quiet when you speak next. “Do you want that?”

You can’t imagine what would happen if Luke suggests something like the two of you splitting up, finding your own ways after camp. He’s in every plan you have, a permanent mark on the rest of your life.

Your attachment issues are serious. You’re barely able to imagine yourself as a person without Luke Castellan.

The way he smiles makes it feel like someone’s pumping air back into your lungs. It dispels every single doubt you’d ever had.

“Do I wanna go to college? Sure,” he says. The grin on his face lights up his eyes, gorgeous pools of dark brown. “But if you’re asking me if I want to be with you?”

Luke laughs in disbelief, like your question is the funniest thing in the world. The sound makes something in your chest constrict. “I hope you know it’s been a definite yes for the past decade.”

You don’t even realize how much you’re grinning until Luke leans forward to knock your forehead against his.

“Can I be honest with you?” you whisper, serious as ever.

The joy is written on your face, plain as day. It’s like you’ve ascended into the sky and merged into literal nature all at once. The wind rustles the taller grass blades behind you. A dove chirps over your heads.

Luke nods.

“Even if you decided you didn’t want to go to college, and just wanted to fuck off and live in the Canadian wilderness or something…”

You slide your arms around his neck just so you can hide your smile. You’re embarrassed out of your mind, knowing he can feel your grin against his skin. “I’d still go with you, honestly.”

A shocked laugh bursts from his throat. Luke’s arms link behind your lower back, and you fight the urge to do something stupid. “Fuck. Are you proposing, killer?”

You feel like you’ve been set on fire.

“I think we should go ask Chiron about plane tickets, like right now,” you say, no trace of a joke in your voice.

His chest rumbles against yours when he laughs. “Sure.”

The two of you stay like that for a few more minutes, and Luke only lets go of you to add the last remaining sticks into the fire. He sits back again, this time dragging you against his chest. He slumps onto your back, resting his chin on your shoulder.

It’s weird, knowing for a fact that you’re going to spend the rest of forever with your best friend.

“Do you ever think about, like, the other parts of the future?” you press, your curiosity getting the best of you.

His shoulders lift against your back in what you think is a shrug. “Like what? Up until now, I had no idea I even wanted to go to college.”

Of course.

“Like anything after college. Where you wanna live. If you want kids.”

Luke’s taken to rubbing the skin of your thigh through the blanket over both your laps. “I have, actually.”

His answer surprises you. He’s thought about stuff like that, which is a million years from now, but not college? Something that could very much happen in the next few years?

“Care to share?” you push. “I haven’t really thought about it yet.”

Luke hums, and you can tell he’s thinking everything over. You watch the fire dance in the pit while you wait for him to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to live by the water,” Luke admits. “I liked that about where we grew up.”

His voice takes on a quiet tone, always awkward whenever he mentions Connecticut. You’d lived in the suburbs about ten minutes from the coast, and so many of your summers and few weekends were spent down by the water.

“I think that’s why California sounds good to me,” Luke continues. “It’s not New England, and it’s different in a good way.”

You would love to go back to your mom’s house — see the place that shaped you and Luke into people. But you know he could never consider it. Westport haunts him even now, his own personal ghost.

“And I want a big house,” he continues. “With one kid. A boy or a girl, I don’t really care.”

“Luke Castellan, girl dad,” you tease, everything about it sounding fond.

In a few years, the same boy who used to chase you through his backyard with worms in his hands will be an adult. Your best friend, pressed against you right now, could one day be a dad.

“Maybe,” he answers. He squeezes your knee two times, and it keeps you from drifting off into your thoughts.

“I don’t know if the world could handle a Luke Castellan Jr. running around. You were a crazy kid.”

Luke pinches you in offense. “Big talk coming from you, killer.”

He draws out the syllables in the old nickname to drive his point across. The joke had come from somewhere, of course.

“It wasn’t like you were the angel between the two of us,” he adds.

You smile because you know he’s right. You’d been a handful for your mom, always causing some sort of trouble in one way or another. And Luke had been right there with you, every step of the way.

Beyond college, you don’t know what you want for yourself. You just know that you’re going to have Luke, no matter what happens.

You think of the two of you a few years from now with your college diplomas and your families in the audience. Years of laughter and sunscreen and your big house on the California beach. And then the two of you, old and tired but with a lifetime of stories to tell.

You sink further into the cradle of his arms. “I just can’t wait, Luke. For all of it.”

Straight ahead, the last of the light from the sun gets consumed by the darkness of the night. You and Luke lay there, alone under the stars.

He mumbles his answer into the quiet of the sky. “Me too.”

The fire goes out sometime later.

—

Luke dreams of you that night.

You’re about sixteen years younger, but it still looks just like you.

You’re both sitting on the beach, though it doesn’t quite look like the one from your childhood.

The water is so blue and the sand is so fine and white and Luke knows he’s never been here before. When he turns around, he can see nothing else but more sand behind him, an eternal beach his mind has drawn for him. In front of him is a stretch of water that goes as far as his eye can comprehend. And to his left is you.

He knows it has to be you the moment he sets his eyes on the back of your head, the same messy hair of his youth.

It’s the same kid he sat with on the back steps of his porch, hands sticky with melted popsicles. The same kid he’d watch late night cartoons with on his couch, asleep with a half eaten bowl of ice cream on the floor.

You turn to face him, and Luke knows if he had full control over his body, his face would’ve split into a grin.

You’re just a baby.

You’re so tiny that even the version of him in his dream reaches out for you. It seems that Dream You is still a baby, but Dream Luke isn’t.

There’s a ridiculous sunhat on your head, the kind his mom would make him wear as a kid. It’s in your favorite color, and when you toddle closer, he sees you smile with all three of your baby teeth.

There’s a few things different about you that don't feel familiar to him. Something about the curve of your nose is off, and your hair looks curly in the way that his is. There’s a look in your eye that reminds him a lot of one of his younger brothers, the makings of a mischievous smile new on your face. You waddle right into his arms, and he lets you clamber onto his left thigh. When you throw your tiny arms around his neck, he realizes you smell like his sunscreen and salt water.

You pat his face, your eyes wide and glittering. He wipes a bit of drool away from the corner of your mouth, and you jump a little.

“Mama,” you babble, since it’s probably the only world you know.

He thinks of your mother, all the way back in Connecticut. He thinks of her big smile and warm hands and her freshly squeezed lemonade and her empty house.

She was like a second mother to him. He thinks of how she likely saw this same thing — this tiny version of you, unable to talk and lacking motor skills.

“Mama,” you say again, insistent. You pat his face again, like you’re trying to get him to understand. But Dream Luke can’t do anything but hold you, it seems. So he does.

There’s a shift, and you notice it too. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he feels movement behind him. Luke knows he should feel on edge, but his body physically refuses to. Baby Killer goes crazy, blabbering excitedly as familiar arms go around his shoulders.

Luke recognizes the feeling immediately. They’re the same arms that he feels curled around him when he wakes up from his dream.

my commentary on the ending

the killerverse masterlist

notes: and somehow they still aren’t together… idk. this was definitely my favorite chapter to write so please oh please leave feedback if you enjoyed!! it means sooo so much.

tags in the rbs!

[i-mmunity]

daylight

part two — the killerverse masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares reader

word count: 4.6k

summary: the max/luke fight exclusive. and the first time you went more than a day without talking to luke.

warnings: max says very mean things about reader (hes not a nice guy), fight descriptions, wound descriptions, near death experience, severe reader injury

“Violet told me it looked like you were going to cry, Luke.”

“She did not,” he says through a laugh. He drops a handful of strawberries into the bucket by his feet, pushing his hair out of his face.

The June sun isn’t too flaming hot yet, but it’s warm enough where an hour of strawberry picking has the both of you sweaty and tired.

“Tyler said it was more like you were about to keel over and die,” you tease. “I can’t believe that me ignoring you for less than twelve hours moved you to tears.”

He rolls his eyes as he tosses a strawberry at your head. “I wasn’t moved to tears,” he insists. You nod like you believe him. “Anyway, I thought you were into that thing.”

You shift your nearly full bucket of strawberries over, sighing with the exertion. “Into what thing?”

“Y’know. The whole defending your honor thing.”

Your laugh is so loud it attracts the attention of the satyr playing his reed pipes a couple feet away. Luke’s chest does something weird at the sound.

“You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!” He laughs too, to try and loosen that weird feeling in his ribcage.

“So what?” You’re grinning as you take a few slow steps in his direction. “You wanted me to fawn over you?”

His back goes stick straight when you grip one of his biceps dramatically, feigning weak legs. You throw the back of your hand against your forehead, swooning against his chest. “You wanted me to faint and say, Luke, oh Luke! You’re my hero!”

He pinches that part under your ribs that he knows is ticklish and watches as you dissolve into laughter, stepping away from him. The loss of touch makes his chest feel empty.

Did he want that from you? He would be lying if he said no. And as he watches you laugh as you gather your hair away from your face, he decides to say, “Maybe I did.”

Your bright laugh tapers into a small smile, and Luke wishes he could read your mind. “Alright, hero. But how ‘heroic’ was the punch if you and Max were just having a dick measuring contest?”

Luke blinks hard. You’re kidding, right? Max’s snarky comments about him added fuel to the fire, sure, but that was not why he punched him. “What do you mean?”

“You know. That thing he said about you while we were leaving. The reason why you jumped at him?”

He uses a hand to block out the sun from his eyes so he can see your face better. You’re being dead serious.

“Killer,” he starts slowly. “That wasn’t why I punched him.”

—

Luke had called your name, his voice pitching up nervously at the end.

You had turned to face him from the top of the hill, your eyes softening. Luke could cry at how relieved he was that you and Max weren’t holding hands.

“Luke,” you said, taking a few steps closer to him. At the sight of his nervous fidgeting, you frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Do you have a second?” he’d asked. He shot a side glance to Max. Obvious code for without the loser standing next to you. “I have to talk to you.”

Sharp eyes darted down to where the hem of his shirt was wrinkled from his fidgeting hands, and you nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”

You turned back to Max, an apology in your eyes. His mouth was parted in what was probably surprise. “I’ll only be a second, I’m sorry.”

Luke extended his hand to help you down the sharp incline of the hill, and your fingers slotted with his like they always did.

A better person wouldn’t turn back to smile at Max.

But Luke wasn’t a better person.

He smirked at him, unashamed, and the slight upturn of his lips must’ve been Max’s tipping point, because then, he was opening his mouth to speak.

“No surprise,” Max had mumbled.

The anger laced with his words made you cock your head around. “What’d you say?”

Max raised his shoulders in an offhand shrug, but his eyes were narrowed in irritation. “Nothin’.”

“C’mon, dude,” Luke said, his smile curling into something meaner. He wanted you to see exactly how much of a coward this guy was. Maybe then you’d be mean enough to turn him down next time. “Say it again.”

His eyes narrowed directly at Luke. “I said there’s no surprise.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you’d asked, and even though your expression was calm, the way your voice lowered implied you were feeling anything but casual about it. You knew Max wasn’t being snarky to you, but you had gone toe to toe with someone for Luke before, and were willing to do it again.

Sometimes, Luke forgot you were a child of Ares. You loved a good fight, but didn’t go around blatantly starting arguments like some of the other demigods from your cabin. But as he watched your head tilt, he remembered just how much he loved you like this — willing to snap someone in half. The unmistakable fire in your eyes and the way your entire presence seemed to grow in size seemed surprising to Max, and his eyes widened a fraction.

Luke stepped closer to him until they were a few feet away from each other. “Just answer the question.”

His mask of indifference was beginning to fall. Max’s face reddened as he grew even more annoyed at the challenge. “There’s no surprise because you’re always like this, Castellan. You don’t let anyone speak to her for a second before you lose your fucking mind.”

You had scoffed from behind him. “That’s it? That’s your problem?” Luke could picture the face you were making at Max right now. Your eyes were probably rolled as you stuck your tongue into your cheek the way you did when you were really annoyed. “Let’s go, Luke. What a waste of time.”

You turned to walk down the hill without him, ready to get as far away from Max as possible. Luke smiled at him as he backed away. “Lady’s orders.”

“Taking commands like a dog,” Max spat, but Luke didn’t care. His smile was growing in smug satisfaction at the knowledge that you would never give Max the time of day again.

The delight on his face must’ve been making Max desperate, because he shot out a few other quips at Luke, fighting miserably to land a jab that would sting. But it wasn’t working. Luke didn’t care about Max or what he thought of him.

But as Max’s eyes slid over to you, he knew exactly what to say.

“Y’know, if you’re gonna react like this whenever another guy looks in her direction, keep your bitch on a tighter leash, Castellan.”

It was no surprise to either of them when Luke’s fist met the side of his face.

Max was down for the count. He staggered back, landing on his ass in the dirt. Luke moved to grab the front of his shirt collar, yanking him forward with his fist.

“Apologize,” Luke snapped, his voice taking on a dangerous tone. He wasn’t even sure if all five of Max’s senses were working after that hit, but he didn’t care. “Fucking apologize, now.”

At his lack of response, Luke shook the boy again. His head lolled, dazed.

“Gods, Luke,” you had said, appearing at his side. You pushed at his shoulder in warning. “You proved your point. He’s a jealous asshole, let’s just go.”

“Are you kidding? Did you hear what he said?” he had asked, giving you a look in disbelief. “He doesn’t get to say shit like that and get away with it, he—”

Luke was cut off by Max’s shot to the side of his face.

Of course, his jaw stung. But there was no dizziness like when someone managed to get in a good hit on him during sparring, so Luke was able to catch his barings almost immediately. Max staggered back, clutching his throbbing hand in his other.

Luke decided the Hephaestus kids must’ve locked the boy up at the forges and fed him scraps, because it was clear he had never punched someone in the face before.

“Tighter leash,” Max still had the gall to repeat. His mouth was splitting into a grin Luke could not wait to knock off his face.

And so he did.

He shoved Max to the ground, getting one good strike in before you and someone else were pulling him off of him. The crowd that had apparently formed to watch the argument was thinning out, letting Chiron drag them in for what was likely an hour long talking to.

When it was all over, and the two of them are dismissed to their cabins, Luke made sure to shoulder check Max, just for good measure.

—

You gape up at him.

“Max really said that?”

He nods, his throat dry. He hadn’t wanted to repeat the words, but you had begged and pleaded in that way that had Luke folding like a lawn chair.

“Woah.” Your voice is quiet as you hold out your hand. Luke reaches for yours like a trained dog.

(Max had certainly been right about one thing.)

You had sat down on the grass sometime during the story, keeping the two of you away from the sun in the shade of a tall strawberry bush. Luke worried that you weren’t comfortable against the rough material of his cargo pants, but you looked content to lay your head in his lap and listen.

The other campers around you say their hellos as they step around you, thankfully not saying a word about your slacking off. One of the Aphrodite girls teasingly wiggles her eyebrows at Luke while you aren’t looking, and he flips her off behind your back.

He expects you to lace your fingers together like always, but finds himself staring as you hold his hand in both of yours. You inspect the wrapping around his knuckles before leaning down to kiss his skin through the white fabric. “Guess it really was a heroic punch.”

His heart is stuttering in his chest, but he wills the burning away. “Guess so.”

You sit upright, nearly knocking your faces together. But you tug him closer again after he dodges the collision, your hands going around his middle as you press your face into his collarbone in a way that has his breathing unsteady. He brushes a kiss onto your hairline.

Happy to be held, you sigh out, “Thanks, my hero.”

The two of you aren’t hugging completely — it’s way too hot out for that — and Luke has to fight against every part of his brain to keep it that way. The addition of that one single word is doing something to his head.

My hero.

Yours.

You call him a hero every single day — it’s your nickname for him, for crying out loud — but you’ve never called him yours before.

He’s not just anyone’s hero, he’s yours.

You pull away from his chest with a smile, but his hands around your waist don't let you get too far. “That night was probably the longest we’ve gone without speaking. Sorry it was kinda for no reason.”

He doesn’t outright say it, but you know you’re forgiven. If there was a world where Luke could stay mad at you, it wasn’t this one.

Luke turns your words over in his head, buying time for himself with the way he’s rubbing circles into your side. He already knows you’re wrong about that, and he’s going to correct you, but he feels content with having you so close. You lean back against him, the both of you uncaring of how warm it already is outside.

“One time, we didn’t talk for almost two days.”

You pull back again to frown at him. “No way. If we were ever not speaking for that long, I’d remember.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You hum, confident in your answer. “One of us would’ve gone insane if that had happened. We wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

Luke doesn’t stop to think about the truth to that statement. He shifts forward a little, leaning in closer just to watch the face you make. “How much do you wanna bet?”

You’re a little flushed, and you give him a wobbly smile like you know what he’s doing by sitting so close. After a second, you say, “Loser has to bring both our strawberries to the truck later.”

He flicks your forehead, leaning back onto his palms in the grass. “Typical.”

You were always looking for a way out of carrying the strawberries down to where the camp loaded them up for shipping.

“Have fun with both of our crates, then,” he teases. “‘Cause we both know you didn’t get those scars on your back from a cat.”

—

You were both around twelve, and the two of you had come a long way from Connecticut.

Luke tried not thinking of his mother and Westport much, determined to look forward and not back. Leaving was what was best for him. But from time to time, you’d bring up home, and he’d get a pit in his chest whenever you did.

He missed his mother. He hated feeling so alone.

You were his best friend, and though you soothed the ache in his heart, no friend could replace the comfort a mother was supposed to bring. He grieved the perfect life he never got to live. The pain would flare up once in a while, and he would be quiet and inconsolable.

You understood, because you always did, and always were extra nice during these times.

Your latest adventure had taken you two all the way down to Hershey, Pennsylvania. Neither of you had money to do much, but you had weighed your choices and spent the few bucks you two could spare on chocolate at Hershey Park.

It was stupid, sure, but he saw your smile when you split the bar with him, and he knew he’d sacrifice another hundred dollars just to share another chocolate bar with you.

It reminded him of home, in a good way. But everything just hung heavy over his head, and Luke was still down for the rest of the night.

“Don’t worry about coming with me. I’ll get the wood tonight,” you offered. “Can you get the fire started?”

He was unresponsive, staring away at the sunset in the distance. But you didn’t get angry or annoyed. You just squeezed his shoulder as you went deeper into the woods for good fire sticks.

Wait for me. Don’t go too far, he would’ve said on a normal night. But his words were getting jumbled up with the thoughts of his mother that plagued him, and he was quiet.

When Luke thought about you again, the fire had been burning for a few minutes, and his hands were beyond warm from it.

He turned in the direction you had left in. He called your name once, his voice hoarse from his bout of silence.

“Hey, you get enough wood yet?” He tossed the last bit of kindling into the fire, brushing off his hands. The turkey sandwich you were about to share was warming up next to the flames. Both of you knew that no warmth could make the bread taste like something other than cardboard, but you insisted on it anyway.

The dense foliage of the trees blocked out the last bits of light from the setting sun, so he knew you wouldn’t have gone far. He picked up his own sword as he headed away from the fire, squinting in the dark for you. He called for you again.

The empty trees echoed Luke’s voice back to him.

“The turkey’s going to get cold,” he had warned, moving in the direction he’d thought you’d gone in. This was stupid. You shouldn’t have split up when it was so dark out.

Luke strained his eyes to find a blob, or a shape, or anything that remotely resembled you. But it was like you were gone, without a trace.

That sick feeling was beginning to stir in his stomach. He called your name again, louder and more frantic. Luke knew without a shadow of a doubt that you hadn’t left him on purpose. Something bad had to have happened.

You were hurt. Or something took you. Or you were lost. Or maybe all three. The idea of you alone out here had him calling out for you louder. Whatever light the sun might’ve given was gone now, and Luke was relying on his sense of sound just as much as his vision. Staring ten feet ahead was like staring into a dark abyss.

It had been fifteen minutes of this with no response. Before he could get too nauseous, Luke did the one thing he thought might work.

He closed his eyes, dropped to the ground, and begged.

“Dad.”

He swallowed around the weight in his throat.

“I know we don’t talk. And I don’t know if we ever will. But she’s my best friend. Please keep her safe, because I…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t do it without her.”

There was no glowing figure that appeared before him to hand him his friend back. He tried again.

“Aphrodite,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. How desperate was he? “Please bring her back. Please. And I’ll never ask for anything ever again—”

His heart jumped into his throat. Tension was gripping onto every part of him. Luke hoped that he had heard something different. But then it cut through the silence of the night again.

A scream of terror.

Luke shot to his feet, his sneakers skidding against the leaves covering the forest floor. He stumbled like a baby deer as he sprinted into your direction, his shoulder catching prickly branches while he tried not to stumble over jagged rocks.

He decided that when he found you — because he would, he had to — he was going to kill you for this.

Luke prayed for a clear pathway back to you and begged his legs to move faster. He followed the sound all the way into a clearing.

You were leaning against a rock when he found you, your stare a mile long. It seemed like it stretched past the trees in front of you and even through the acres of farmland past that.

“I stabbed it.” There was no tone to the way you spoke. Just syllables spat out by a machine. “It’s dead.”

Your dagger was a few feet away, the blade splotched with red. The blood was smeared on the palms of your hands, too. He couldn’t tell if it was yours or not.

He swiped a hand through your hair, checking for bleeding there. Finding nothing, his hands went to the sides of your face, trying to match your gaze.

“Where’d it get you?” he asked desperately. “You gotta tell me.”

You shook your head, your hands twitching at your sides.

“Luke.” Your voice broke as you pulled his hands from your face. Your hands were tight around his wrist. “Please hold me.”

“You have to tell me where it got you, first. Please, please tell me.”

One of your hands dragged his arm around your waist, the way you usually did when you wanted a hug. Luke shook his head.

He said your name firmly. “I’m not messing around. You could die if you don’t—”

His hands were shaking so bad, he almost didn’t notice when they had brushed up against something wet and thick and coating the small of your back. But when he was so accustomed to every small difference in the way you acted, or the way you held yourself, or the way you felt under his hands, the foreign patch of wetness had him stopping in his tracks.

He let you lean forward onto his front as he braced himself for the sight of your back. You were eerily silent as he did so, your arms resting over his shoulders in an unreciprocated hug.

If it was bad enough, you were going to die here. And Luke was going to have to hold you and watch.

Your cheap t-shirt was shredded to strips of fabric, offering him a sickeningly clear view of the wound underneath. Whatever monster did this to you was big. Three jagged lines marred the expanse of your lower back, the gashes angry and red and inflamed. From them gushed red hot blood. The claws that had left their mark had torn at the tissue—

(Luke fights back a gag thinking about it now.

Of course, time had run its course, blurring his memories. But the sight of this wound has been one of the only things that’s stayed, even years later, when the two of you are miles away from that forest in Pennsylvania.)

He fought down bile as you tightened your arms around his neck. “Please, Luke, please.”

In what you thought were going to be your last moments, you wanted nothing more than to be held. And as he felt your tears stain his shoulder, he knew that he wasn’t going to let it end like this.

“Save your energy,” he said firmly, fumbling to find a steady grip on the bottoms of your thighs. “We’re going to the hospital.”

On any other day, you would’ve protested the way he was supporting all of your body weight, letting you slump forward. But you were quiet now, and Luke found his legs carrying him out to the street even faster.

A trucker found the two of you collapsed in the road on the outskirts of the forest.

“A bear,” Luke thinks he had said, but he can’t recall anything after your injury with any accuracy. He was watching as blood poured from your wounds one second and was scrubbing that same blood away in the hospital bathroom the next.

While you were whisked off by the doctors, Luke sat in the waiting room next to a cop and what was probably a social services worker. They tried asking him questions about his parents, your parents, what you two were doing out in the woods.

He answered the same thing everytime, and made up a bullshit excuse when he couldn’t. I don’t know. I don’t know. I found her out there.

For a few hours, the hospital was working to keep you alive, and for even more hours after that, they worked to keep it that way. The cop at his side changed after a while, but Luke sat in that chair the entire time. And he stayed there for an entire night waiting to hear about you.

“Just let him in,” a nurse said in hushed tones to another. She was pretty and had kind eyes that looked sad when she snuck glances at him. “He’s been here for seven hours.”

Had it really only been seven hours? Luke already felt ten years older.

After lots of back and forth twenty feet away, your nurse approached him. He thought she kind of looked like you, but looking back, Luke thinks he was just missing your face.

The nurse had told him you would wake up on your own time, that you were hurt pretty badly and your body needed time to get better. Then she handed him some crackers and let him step into your room.

You were hooked up to a bunch of wires and bags and machines that made you look small. Your hand was cold when he slipped his into yours, with none of the usual warmth you offered.

He had done this to you, Luke realized in horror.

He had been so torn up about his mom, he let you go off on your own, and didn’t even realize it. If he had gone with you, this never would’ve happened. The two of you would’ve eaten your gross turkey sandwich and taken turns keeping watch while the other slept.

Luke never told you, but he had done lots of thinking at your bedside. Mostly, he thought about leaving.

He was perfectly capable of disappearing and never being found again. And after enough time, the cops would identify you. They’d call your mom, who would drop everything to come and get you. You could go back to the safety of your home, live a comfortable life, and not have to go to bed hungry everyday.

Luke was being selfish by bringing you with him all of those years ago. And as he decided against leaving, he realized he was being selfish by making the decision to stay with you, too. He needed you. You were all he had left.

Twelve year old Luke Castellan ended up going forty hours without hearing your voice. Forty hours of silence with nothing but the beeping of the machine hooked up to your heart.

He could only breathe easy again when you were strong enough to run a hand through his hair. You were warm again.

The two of you had fled from the hospital a few days after. The two unaccompanied children from that Pennsylvanian hospital had disappeared before they could even put out a Code Amber.

—

Luke decides to keep most of these details to himself, omitting most of it for his peace of mind.

“The longest we went without speaking was that time you got mauled by a monster out in the woods,” he reminds. You already know the story, anyway. “You were asleep in the hospital for a day or two, I’m not sure.”

He is sure — you were asleep for thirty six hours and didn’t speak for another four.

You make a face, completely unaware of the unwanted memories this conversation has dredged up. “That doesn’t count, Luke. I was dying!”

He knows. His nightmares about that night haunt him just as much as the nightmares he started getting after his quest.

“Never said we were only counting times we didn’t talk by choice,” he says, stacking your strawberry crate onto his. He had won your little bet, but he was planning on carrying yours no matter what.

You smile, interlocking your arms. He’s grateful for the touch. Both of you have come a long way from those woods in Hershey. You’re alive and safe, with no memories from that night but the scars on your back that Luke will stare at sometimes. You lean against him as you walk down the hill, the summer sun disappearing behind a cloud.

“I’ll never understand how we did all that when we were kids,” you say, your voice quieter now. “We were so little. We should’ve been doing math homework, or something. Not fighting for our lives all by ourselves.”

Luke nearly freezes, but your connected arms force him to keep walking. “The gods don’t exactly like being nice to their kids.”

Your father left you to die. It was Luke that dragged your half conscious body to safety. He was the one who held your hand in the hospital when you cried from the pain and begged for someone to take it all away.

And the both of you were twelve.

Why should the gods get away with that?

But you knock your head against his shoulder with something shining in your eyes, and his thoughts disappear from his head.

“They did one nice thing, though,” you say offhandedly as he passes the crates off to another camper.

With his hands free, he pulls you into a side hug. One of his warm hands slips under the back of your shirt, sliding to the small of your back. His fingertips run over the scars that have been healed for almost seven years.

You’re alive. You survived. That’s all he could ever ask for.

“One nice thing. Like what?”

You have a sly grin on your face, and Luke knows you’re proud of what you’re going to say next.

“They brought me you.”

my thoughts on aphrodite/the nurse

series masterlist

notes: wipes away tear. hes my best friend… as always lmk if u enjoyed!! i do plan on writing more luke hes so fun

luke tags: @randomgurl2326 @repostingmyfavs @cedricsleftelbow

[i-mmunity]

one year with luke castellan

↳ october 14 with silena beauregard

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: silena beauregard helps you get ready for what is absolutely, definitely, totally not a date with luke

content: little bit of insecurity talk, r is insecure about scars she has from fighting

notes: it is october in their universe we are officially in the home stretch!!

Silena Beauregard thinks you’re one of the prettiest people at camp — and it’s not only because of your face.

You’re pretty in the traditional sense, of course. But she’s never seen someone light up a room quite like you do. You’re able to make people glow just by giving them one of your gorgeous smiles, something that it seems only you have mastered. And you’re ridiculously strong. She’s never seen someone look so pretty after effortlessly beating someone into the dirt.

You’re one of the most efficient medics at camp, too. She’s convinced part of your healing ability starts the second you see someone—something about your presence has its own soothing effect.

You’re one of the most capable people she knows, so it’s safe to say that Silena’s beyond honored that you’ve asked for her help with something.

She swings her cabin door open the second she hears the knock.

“Hi,” she greets, a small smile on her face.

You’re already grinning at her, and it feels like she’s lifted off of the floor with the force of your smile alone.

“Thank you so much for helping me with this, Silena.” You throw your arms around her in a big hug, and she squeezes you tight.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she says genuinely. “Gods, when you first asked me to help you get ready to go out, I was so excited!”

“You’re the best,” you gush. “Your perfume smells so nice, by the way. Where’s it from?”

Silena is grinning while she tells you all about how her older sister took a class on olfaction in college and made this specific perfume just for her.

She leads you over to her vanity next to her bed, and flicks on the switch that lights up the entire mirror. You squint, not expecting it, and she says a little oops before dimming the bulbs.

“Is that better?”

“That’s perfect.”

Silena hums as she starts pulling out her different makeup pouches, searching in each drawer for everything she needs.

“So,” she starts, feeling awfully like her hairdresser back home. She leans against her dresser so she can get a good look at your face. “What’s the occasion?”

You look away from her faster than she can comprehend it, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

She squints at you, not believing it for a second. “Oh, come on. You came here to get all dressed up! There has to be a special something happening.”

“Well..” You drag out the letters while she gets started on moisturizing your face. “I’m just… It’s nothing super big.”

“Go on.”

“I’m just going to carve pumpkins.”

Halloween is in a couple weeks, and Silena could not be more excited. It’s one holiday Camp Half-Blood goes all out for, and the decorations everyone puts up are a perfect mix between frighteningly realistic and perfectly haunted. There’s pumpkin carving all month and a horror maze being put up next week.

“Oh, that’s so fun! Are you going with your siblings?”

“Oh, no. I’m going with Luke.”

Silena tries not to squeal too loud.

“You’re going on a date with Luke Castellan?”

“No, no, no—” you try to deny, but Silena doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Good for you!” Silena isn’t blind. Luke is gorgeous. He’s both adorably cute and insanely hot, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him at one point. “I’ve been wondering when he was going to ask you out!”

You slump in her chair like a sad balloon, and her hand stills by your face. “No, uh… he hasn’t.”

“Huh?” Silena puts down her brush to look you completely in the eye. “But—but you two are going to carve pumpkins.”

“Yeah, so?”

“And you’re going alone?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And he asked you?”

You pause. “Yes, but, Silena—”

“Then it’s a date!” she insists, knocking a bottle clear off the vanity.

You’re frowning when you catch the container before it hits the floor. “There’s no way that’s even possible.”

Silena stands up straight, her eyes spinning around the empty room like she’s on a hidden camera show. She looks back at you with a very judgmentally raised eyebrow.

“Wait, you…” She blinks twice. “You don’t think he likes you?”

You look away from Silena so you can stare holes into the mirror instead.

“I don’t just think that. I know there’s no way he ever would.”

Silena knows her eyes are wide as saucers at your completely incorrect assumption.

Luke Castellan has it bad for you — it’s something everyone’s kind of accepted by now. He’s constantly following you around, constantly talking about you, constantly teasing you, and constantly giving you the biggest heart eyes ever. Apparently, it’s obvious to absolutely everyone but you.

Silena thinks the chances of Luke not having a massive crush on you is a big fat zero.

But… you seem pretty sure, and she knows the two of you are close. Who would know better than someone who’s actually friends with him?

She resumes her work on your face after a very hesitant second. “Did he say something to you?”

You shake your head, your eyes shut while she pats product into your face. “No, Luke’s way too nice, he’d never.”

And it’s also probably because he’s absolutely obsessed with you, Silena thinks to herself.

“Then why do you think he would never like you?”

Your face screws up while you think about it, your eyes going through every shade of emotion. After a quiet few seconds, you groan and move to put your face in your hands.

She bats your palms away from the powder she’s set under your eyes. “Not the face!”

“Oops, sorry,” you say, holding your hands up and away.

“But answer the question.”

You look at your shoes, and your face is twisted with embarrassment when you say, “We fight all the time. No guy would ever like someone who argues as much as I do.”

Silena’s at a loss for words. You and Luke’s little rivalry is far from a secret, and it’s very clear to everyone that he enjoys getting his ass handed to him every other day by you. And it’s also totally obvious he loves riling you up and teasing you until you get flustered.

“Boys can be weird,” she says, adding the finishing touches to your eyelashes. “Luke argues with you all the time too. He’s flirting with you in his own way.”

“Could you imagine?” You laugh, but it sounds a little sad. “There’s no way any normal guy would ever like the girl that makes fun of him for breathing too loud.”

If that’s the case, then Luke Castellan is far from normal. He leaves your little arguments with the biggest smiles on his face.

“Me and Luke are only ever going to be friends,” you insist, your eyes fluttering open now that Silena’s all done. “Especially because…” you trail off before waving your hands around aimlessly. “You know how Luke is.”

“What about him?”

She takes a quick glance at the weather outside before cracking open a few of her sisters’ trunks for you. Silena knows they won’t mind that she’s borrowing her clothes, especially if it’s for something as special as a date with Luke Castellan.

Because that is absolutely what this is, no matter how much you deny it.

“He’s really cute,” you say simply, a wistful hint to your words. “And everyone knows it. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“Yeah,” Silena pipes up, ankle deep in an array of sweaters. “Like you.”

You throw a decorative pillow at her that she swats away with a laugh.

“Just off the top of my head, I can name about fifteen people madly in love with him who are much nicer to him than I am,” you point out, turning onto your stomach. “There’s absolutely no reason why he would like me of all people. ”

Silena tosses a nice sweater at you before giving you a very pointed look. It upsets her to see people doubt themselves, especially when it’s a person as lovely as you.

“And how many of them has he wanted to hang out with alone?” she points out.

Your lips flatten out into a line, annoyed, because you know she has a point.

“He asked you,” she reminds. “Not anyone else.”

She lets you sit with your thoughts while she finishes finding something nice for you to wear.

The Aphrodite girls own such a huge amount of clothes, which makes for good variety but makes choosing what to wear beyond overwhelming. Silena takes a few minutes, but is able to narrow down about eight different pants to just two jeans.

“Which one?” she asks, comparing the way they’d look paired with your shoes.

She’s definitely leaning towards the one on the left, but your sweater would look so much cuter with the one on the right. She looks up at you to gauge your opinion, and finds that you’re staring off blankly into space.

“Hellooo?” she says, snapping her fingers at you. “Are you okay?”

You blink hard, like you’ve just now realized that she’s been trying to speak to you. Silena thinks you gesture vaguely to the one on the right before you go limp in her pile of pillows.

“I’m sorry. I’m so grateful you’re doing this for me, I swear. But I just can’t stop thinking.”

The girl gives you a sympathetic smile, tossing the rejected pair of pants to the side so she can come sit down next to you.

“It’s no problem at all,” she insists, fixing a few wayward bits of hair. “Talking about what’s bothering you really helps me.”

You squeeze her hand thankfully. “I just hate Luke,” you say, without a hint of conviction in your voice. “He makes me think about stupid stuff like this.”

There’s a dejected look on your face, and Silena rubs your back soothingly.

“One of my older sisters always tells me that comparison is the thief of joy,” she says sagely. “Don’t compare yourself to those other girls. You’re a gem, and I promise you Luke sees it too. There should be no room for doubt in your life.”

The gloomy shadow over your head wanes when you give her your infectious, always sunny smile.

“You’re really wise, Silena.”

She tries not to let that get to her head, but she can’t help and grin at you. “I know!”

You move to unfold the partition in the corner of the room while she goes to put on some music. She pops her CD in and Natasha Bedingfield fills the room.

“So,” Silena says, while she starts packing away her makeup. “How long have you liked Luke?”

There’s a thud when you drop something behind the divider, and then a shuffle as you hurry to pick it up again.

“What?”

“It’s something everyone goes through,” she jokes as she shuts her drawers. “So don’t worry, you’re not alone!”

“I… I mean, well—”

You cut yourself off before you can trail off too much.

“Gods,” you grumble. “He’s just so charming it makes me sick.”

Silena stops herself from clapping her hands together but allows herself a few seconds of giggling. “I know, right! He’s so sweet.”

“Too sweet. I used to be immune to his stupid face, but it’s like I’m weak now,” you lament from across the room. “He asked me to carve pumpkins with him and I stuttered for like a minute straight before saying yes.”

“Young love,” she says dreamily, imagining the big ask. “That’s so cute!”

You laugh, and it sounds like little bells jingling.

Her CD plays on in the back while you finish getting changed, and Silena begins to tell you about how she almost took someone’s eye out the last time she carved a pumpkin. She insists that painting is much more fun, and the two of you end up making pumpkin painting plans by the time you shut the partition.

You hold your hands out and give a little spin, and Silena’s jaw drops. You have a real, palpable shine to you that makes her feel like the sun is being reflected into her eyes.

Each piece is beyond flattering on you, and she decides that whoever made the whole neon orange camp t-shirt a required thing is downright evil.

“You’re glowing,” she coos. “Oh, you’re so pretty! You gotta be ready to catch Luke, ‘cause he’s definitely going to pass out when he sees you.”

You drag her into one last hug, giggling and bashful. “Thank you, Silena. I look this nice because of you.”

“As if,” she says. “You’re one of the prettiest people ever. This is all you!”

She gives you a once over again, and it’s like an actual light bulb turns on over her head. She pictures you with this leather jacket she got a while back and knows it’s exactly what you need.

“It’s cold out, and I have a jacket that’d go perfect with this, give me a sec!”

Silena darts quickly on her feet to the walk-in closet that one of her sisters built a few years ago, letting you do your own thing in the main part of the cabin. It takes her a few minutes to rifle through the amount of outerwear her family owns, but she finds the coat tucked between a big black puffer and a thrifted hoodie of her brother’s.

Silena calls your name, excited to see your final look come together, when she pauses in her tracks.

Someone else is standing in the cabin, and she can’t help but slap her hand over her mouth to resist screaming.

“Sunshine, as I live and breathe.”

Luke’s also exchanged his Camp Half-Blood shirt for more casual clothes, and though that orange tee does wonders for his arms, he looks especially nice in his knitted sweater and nice jeans.

He’s so hot. She has no idea how you’re even conscious right now.

You’re looking at yourself in the mirror, but Silena does not miss the wide grin you have on your face when you catch sight of him behind you.

“You’re breaking into cabins now?” you ask.

Your voice is so calm and even that Silena wants to applaud you. She feels nervous just at the sight of him.

Luke matches your grin with his own. Completely ignoring your question, he says, “You look really pretty.”

You duck your head, flustered. “Thanks, Luke. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He clutches his chest, his knees buckling. “Wait, did you just—”

“Luke Castellan, don’t start—”

“Did you just compliment me? Are you getting soft on me?”

“In your dreams.”

“I’m starting to think this is one,” he says easily. “I’d say there’s an angel in front of me right now.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you answer through your laugh.

Neither of your smiles fade away for a single second as he moves to stand behind you in the mirror.

You stick out your hand in his direction. “Do you mind helping me put this back on?”

There’s a little flash of metal that Silena recognizes as a necklace you’d had on earlier, and she stifles a laugh. You’re more smooth than you give yourself credit for.

“Of course,” Luke says, as kind as ever.

From the walk-in, Silena has an excellent view of him struggling with the clasp. He pulls an awkward face or two before he gets it secured around your neck and even goes to fix the chain for you.

Silena’s jaw nearly unhinges itself when Luke’s hand slides down your back, his fingers dancing over your skin.

“Pretty gnarly scars, right?” you say, shifting your sweater. It has an open back, and though you don’t look too uncomfortable, you don’t seem used to having your back exposed. “They’re kind of scary to look at.”

“I think they look cool,” Luke replies, and it’s clear he’s not just saying that to flatter you.

There’s a bunch of scars littering the expanse of your skin, both new and old. Some are the size of a scratch while others are larger and inches thick.

Silena knows that although some campers see their scars as a sign of strength, there’s still a bunch of them who get insecure about the way the marks look.

She immediately feels bad. She hadn’t even thought about asking if the sweater was something you were comfortable with.

You look disarmed by his words, your hand moving back to run over a few of the marks. After a few moments, your face breaks out into another smile.

“Watch out, Luke, or I might just win our next sparring match,” you warn teasingly. “I’ll slip right through your hands with the way you’re buttering me up right now.”

“Funny,” he says flatly, before dragging you away from Silena’s mirror. “Wanna head out?”

“Sure.”

He’s starting to walk backwards to the door when his head tilts. “You don’t have a coat?”

“Nope. I’ll be fine, though. A single gust of wind won’t kill me.”

Silena fights back another squeal when Luke shrugs his jacket off and places it around your shoulders.

“You can borrow mine.”

“I’ll be fine, Luke. You keep it.”

“No, I insist.”

“Silena’s just run to get me one of hers, I’m sure she’ll—”

The coat and hanger get shoved back into the depths of the racks before you can even finish your sentence. She swings the closet door open, a fake frown on her face.

“Whoops,” Silena says. “I think I lost it.”

“What?” you say incredulously, looking awfully embarrassed with Luke’s jacket around you. “Are there no other—”

“Nope, sorry.” She shuts the closet door behind her. “My sisters get a little tetchy about sharing their clothes, you know how siblings can be!”

You glance down at your borrowed sweater before looking back at Silena, realization creeping up your face.

“Man, that really does suck,” Luke says, not sounding disturbed in the slightest. He’s grinning when he puts his hand on your back to usher you out the door.

“Maybe that jacket will show up eventually.” Silena shrugs, a shameless smile on her face. “What a bummer.”

Luke shuts up the rest of your complaints by slotting your arms through the sleeves himself, refusing your attempts at giving it back to him. He zips up the front too, just for good measure.

“I hope you guys have fun!” Silena says before the door shuts.

Luke looks back to wink at her while your back is turned. Before he lets the door close, he mouths two words at her.

Thank you.

notes: so so sorry there was not much of luke and sunshine in this but i really wanted to show more of her feelings for him!! she has some real struggles as a girl in love with the camp sweetheart

++ thank you all so much for ur patience bc its been a hot minute since ive updated lol. as always feedback is soooo appreciated tysm for reading! <3

[i-mmunity]

one year with luke castellan

↳ august 14 with clarisse la rue

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo!reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: clarisse and luke find themselves hurt in the infirmary, and you are far from happy about it

notes: updating my neglected series hi. sunshine and luke are back!!

Clarisse hates Luke Castellan.

She’s pretty indifferent about most people — but there’s just so many things about Luke that grate on her nerves a little more than the other kids do.

For one, there’s his golden boy camp counselor act, which he uses to get himself out of anything and everything. It’s nearly impossible for Luke to get in trouble, because he just flashes a stupid smile to get out of it. She doesn’t think Luke’s ever been punished at camp a single time.

And then there’s the way he and his entire cabin can never clean up after themselves. Their weapons and armor are always rusted and dirty, which annoys her to no end. Clarisse and her siblings are diligent in their armory upkeep — their weapons of war are something to be cared for, not tossed onto a rack, dented and misused.

But one thing that really gets to her?

He’s cocky. To insane measures.

Clarisse is willing to recognize a good fighter when she sees it. And she admits, Luke is nearly unparalleled with a sword. He’s so good that even her brothers and sisters have trouble fighting against him, a fact that he and his stupid siblings never let anyone forget. It’s not possible to go a single day without some annoying Hermes camper reminding everyone how Luke is the best swordsman in a million bajillion years.

She would wash him with a spear anyday, of course. But his skill with a sword makes fighting with him a real challenge.

And his arrogance doesn’t stop there. He’s willing to be smug about any victory at all, no matter how small. He’s washed the dishes faster than anyone? There’s that stupid ass smug smile. Made it up the rock climbing wall a fraction of a millisecond faster than Clarisse? That grin makes its annoying appearance once again.

The rock climbing incident bruised her ego probably more than it should have. Which is why when she sees him joking around with his friends during that week’s game of Capture the Flag, she knows she has to put him in his place.

She cracks her knuckles, her own grin taking over.

“I’ve got Castellan,” she says to her sister, not taking her eyes off him once.

“You sure?” Clarisse thinks she hears her say, but she’s already ducking between the trees, like a predator stalking her prey.

Everyone knows Luke is a good fighter. But practically everyone knows Clarisse is an even better fighter.

Which is why it really isn’t a surprise when their fight drags on a little longer than expected. There’s yelling and screaming, and Clarisse thinks she slams her head into a rock at one point. If Luke caught a stray fist to the face, that may or may not have been her fault.

It gets broken up by their siblings dragging them away from each other and Chiron telling them that they’ve lost dessert privileges for a month.

Both of them are battered and bruised and covered in dirt from the forest floor when they get carted over to the Apollo cabin. Chris is forced to walk them there so one of them doesn’t try tearing out the other’s jugular, or whatever.

Clarisse gives Luke dirty looks the entire walk over, but he keeps his gaze dead ahead, slight fear in his eyes. He’s fidgeting nervously and is eerily silent, looking oddly like someone walking right to their doom.

She decides to provoke him. “This might be the longest I’ve been around you without hearing you run your mouth, Castellan. Thank the gods.”

“Clarisse,” Chris warns, rapping on the door of the Apollo cabin.

She merely shrugs, unbothered. But surprisingly, Luke doesn’t bite back. He’s shifting nervously on his feet behind Chris, staring at the chipping paint on the cabin windows.

After a few seconds it swings open, the warm light inside making Clarisse feel like she’s been put in an oven. She squints until you and the amused look on your face come into focus.

She nods at you, and your eyes crinkle at the disheveled sight of her. You pull a stick out of one of her wayward curls, letting it hit the floor. “Hey, Clarisse. What happened to you?”

She yawns, rubbing her sore arm. “Beat Castellan’s ass during Capture the Flag.”

Clarisse knows the exact second that Luke steps out from behind Chris because your eyes narrow directly into slits.

Oh, yeah.

How could she have forgotten about Luke's most annoying quality?

His weird obsession with you.

Luke’s nervousness from earlier makes sense now. He’s totally obsessed with you, but you’re not happy to see him at all. You’re angry.

The light coming from your cabin turns harsh, not at all like the warm rays of light it had been a few seconds ago.

“There’s absolutely no fucking way,” you scoff, crossing your arms. You turn to Chris, looking miffed. “You let him play?”

Chris puts his hands up, looking a little scared, too. “Sorry. I told him he was being dumb, but there’s no stopping Luke. You know what he’s like.”

When you let your eyes scan over the boy in question, your stare is cold. “Unfortunately.”

“Sunshine,” he begins, using that stupid nickname he has for you that makes Clarisse roll her eyes. Luke is beyond apologetic. “Look—”

“Save it,” you snap harshly. “I don’t care what you’re going to say. Get inside now.”

You turn quickly on your heel, stomping angrily away.

Chris whistles, imitating the sound of a bomb dropping and then exploding. He pats Luke on the back, his own signs of amusement on his face. “Good luck with that.”

Luke doesn’t snap at him. He’s too busy being hot on your heels, practically begging for you to listen. Chris is grinning, clearly entertained by Luke’s predicament.

She follows you two into the cabin, keeping a safe distance from your warpath. She takes a seat under one of the open windows, letting the breeze cool her down from the hours in the sweltering August heat. A few feet away, you’re digging around in the fridge with a nuisance close behind.

“I swear, my ankle felt perfectly fine this morning, so it wasn’t even a big deal—”

You stop what you’re doing just so you can turn to glare at him, and there’s a surprising amount of ire in your voice when you answer.

“I know you don’t listen to anything I say, but I hope for the both of us that you’re listening right now. Sit down, Luke.”

He doesn’t listen. He hovers a few feet away the entire time, and when you realize this, it does nothing but annoy you further. You slam the fridge door and don’t let him help you carry your supplies over.

Clarisse doesn’t bother trying to wipe the smile off her face.

Luke looks annoyed when he sees how amused she is and makes sure to keep a good distance from her, leaving a chair in between them. He’s staring sadly at you the entire time.

You ignore him, dropping your tray on the empty chair between them and getting right to work.

There’s a particularly nasty scratch on Clarisse’s arm from where she’d fallen against a tree back in the woods, and you take care to clean it out before ordering her to apply pressure to it. Your usual gentle hands are the slightest bit harsh, though, and she winces when you patch up a cut on her forehead.

“You’ve really pissed her off, Castellan,” Clarisse hisses, uncaring of how you’re right in front of her. “Thanks a lot.”

“Shut up,” he grits out, still staring miserably at the side of your face.

“Your injuries are all pretty superficial,” you tell her, squeezing her shoulder. “But you need to wait here until Julie gets back because I think you have a concussion. How’d that happen?”

Oh. That’s probably why her head was pounding.

Clarisse glances over to Luke with a murderous glare of her own. “Some dumbass made my head hit a rock!”

“You literally threw dirt in my eyes!” he defends indignantly. “I couldn’t see a thing.”

You scoff when you turn to look at him, and the angry look on his face washes away.

“I’m sorry,” Luke rushes out, nearly automatically.

You say nothing, kneeling down so you can press tentatively at his ankle. You clearly don’t like what you see, because your frown worsens as you move to rewrap the joint.

“I was taking it easy the entire time, I swear.” He turns briefly at Clarisse to scowl. “And it would’ve been fine if she didn’t jump me.”

“And did Clarisse force you to play Capture the Flag today?” you ask flatly, which he grimaces at. “Even though I told you to keep pressure off your ankle?”

Luke looks stunned at the way you so easily turn his words on him. He fumbles stupidly for something to say.

Admittedly, Clarisse feels a little bad for him. She’s learned through personal experience that you’re great at fighting with both your words and your fists. Winning an argument against you is near impossible, especially when you’re like this.

She decides to let herself relax in her chair and stare unabashedly at the two of you bickering.

“No, she didn’t. But—”

“But you just wanted to go against my medical advice? ‘Cause you think I’m wrong?”

Luke Castellan goes pale. “Sunshine, please.”

Clarisse coughs to cover up the way she nearly laughs. Luke looks defeated. You’re angry, obviously, but she thinks you’re just picking a fight because you want him to learn his lesson.

He winces when you manhandle his leg to an elevated position, frustratedly tossing a pack of ice at his chest. Luke’s eyes widen when you tug his face closer to look at a cut on his face.

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches,” you say, releasing him. He slumps back, looking sad. “And you’re lucky your ankle didn’t get worse. Because I would be a lot meaner right now.”

Luke looks drained. “You can be meaner than this?”

Clarisse snorts. “You haven’t seen the worst of it.”

You turn around to walk away, and the absence of your cold gaze must make Luke brave. His resolve hardens.

Rather courageously, he says, “Why are you so upset?”

Clarisse wishes Chris was here. Just so he can see his friend one last time before you actually blow him to pieces.

“We’ve hurt each other before when training. This isn’t the first time you’ve nearly sprained my ankle, and I’ve bruised your ribs before, too. Why’s this time so different?”

You whirl to face him, obviously unhappy. “Are you being serious?”

Luke must be fed up, because he stands up even though it looks like you’re gonna throttle him. He steps forward on the ankle Clarisse had no idea was hurt, and you sprint forward in your rush to have him sit down.

“Gods, can you not listen to me for a second—”

“No. I can’t.”

You glare at him.

In a great show of valor, he doesn’t back down. “Answer my question.”

The two of you are quiet for what feels like five straight minutes. But Luke must win whatever staring contest you two are having, because you look away, groaning.

After a few seconds, you mumble something that not even Luke can hear, because he tilts his head, confused. “What was that?”

“Luke, you can be so dense sometimes. It’s cause we’re friends now, alright?”

He laughs a little, drawing you closer by curling a hand around your wrist. “So you didn’t give a fuck about hurting me when we weren’t friends?”

You look alarmed at his words. “What? Of course not.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I don’t know!” you say, exasperated. Your hand slips from Luke’s hold around your wrist when you throw up your hands. “Obviously I didn’t like hurting you when we weren’t friends, but it was all part of fighting, I guess. But now, it’s just… I don’t know.”

You try conveying every single one of your thoughts to him through your eyes alone. He doesn’t pick up on a single one of them.

“C’mon, talk to me.” He tugs you forward again. “We’re both gonna be pissed forever if you don’t tell me.”

Clarisse watches your glare soften when you look at him. You’re not angry anymore, just frustrated. And embarrassed.

“It’s just different. You know?”

Clarisse has no idea what the hell you’re talking about. But Luke seems to have a pretty good idea, because he smiles at you.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

You cock your head curiously. “Is that why you’ve been pulling your punches?”

It’s Luke’s turn to be embarrassed. He laughs a little when he looks away from you. “You’re just being mean, then. I haven’t been going easy on you.”

“You have. I don’t walk away nearly as sore as I usually do when we fight.”

Luke does something that makes you smile, and then he says, “Are you calling me weak?”

“No, I’m calling you soft.”

He gives you a dopey smile, but it’s cut off when he winces.

Clarisse bites back her comment about him being dramatic when you frown again.

“You’re still banned from strenuous activity until I clear you, though.”

He sighs, but he doesn’t seem too upset. “I know, I know. I didn’t expect you to let me do anything fun for at least a week. I’m lucky I even left this fight with my life.”

Clarisse groans so loud it stops your retort that would no doubt start another whole argument.

“Castellan, please stop talking. Your voice is making my head feel even worse.”

You push Luke back into his chair when he tries to lean forward. You sit in the empty seat between them like a human barrier.

“Sorry, Clarisse,” you say on his behalf. “We’ll shut up now.”

“Clarisse, I’m getting the feeling you don’t like me,” he says. “Because there’s two people having this argument, but you’re only being mean to me.”

“It’s because her voice isn’t grating on my ears.”

This gets a laugh out of you, and you pat his back placatingly. “Luke and I’ll whisper.”

“He finally learned how?” she snipes.

“Yep. I’m so proud.”

Luke gives you a look of faux offense. “I thought we were friends?”

You’re laughing when you answer. “We are!”

“I’m hearing a lot of yelling and not a lot of whispering,” Clarisse cuts in, snippish.

“Sorry,” you whisper, real sympathy on your face. “We’re shutting up now.”

Luke says something under his breath that has you erupting into quiet laughter, and he quickly smothers it with the palm of his hand. The quick glance he sends in Clarisse’s direction and the way you slap his shoulder makes it quite obvious he’s joking at her expense.

Clarisse is so close to leaving, concussion and all, but she knows no cabin would be nearly as empty as this. So she sucks it up and stays, with the quiet murmuring of you and Luke as white noise.

Thankfully, your voices barely raise above a whisper, and the throbbing pain in her head eventually fades away to a dull ache. Your sister Julie comes to confirm her fears (she is definitely concussed) and she swiftly leaves to get Clarisse something for her head.

While your sister is away, Luke prods you again, and you tilt your head up at him.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” he says quietly.

You’re smiling. “Is it because I’m nicer to you now that we are?”

Luke doesn’t sound like he’s joking anymore. “No. I just like spending time with you. I don’t really have this with anyone else.”

It takes you a few seconds to snap out of whatever daze his words put you in, and even Clarisse is stunned for a second.

Who knew Luke Castellan had emotions like this?

“Sap,” you tease, brushing something off of his shirt. Your voice sounds off, but you take care to add, “I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

You turn away from him under the guise of shifting in your seat, so only Clarisse can see the giddy smile that’s lighting up your face. You hide it away in the palm of your hand.

Gods, she laments. I’m surrounded by losers.

notes: we are finally in sunshine calling luke by his first name territory <3 and we finally got then admitting they’re friends!!!!! let me know if u enjoyed :)