#don’t tell Chiron or Mr. D

[cordeliacabin3]

Bach party at the lake by cabin 3

come on down.

I don’t own the pictures

#cabin 3 #percy jackson oc #demigod content #demigod oc #children of poseidon #daughter of poseidon #brother!percy jackson #in universe #pjo rpg #pjo oc #camp half blood rpg #camp half blood #don’t tell Chiron or Mr. D

[star-girl69]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.

a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey

******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT

warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.

And unknown places scare you.

There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.

You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.

You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.

It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.

She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.

“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.

You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.

Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.

That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.

She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.

As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”

Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”

You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.

“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.

“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.

Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.

“We have a mission for the two of you.”

“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”

The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.

Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.

“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.

Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”

Chiron presses his lips together.

“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.

“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”

Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.

Clarisse looks at you.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.

Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.

But, Chiron needed to like you too.

You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.

It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.

She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.

She smiles.

“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.

If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.

And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.

Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.

“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”

Her face hardens.

“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”

You rip your hand away from her grip.

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”

“You’re crazy!”

—-

You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.

She looks up from her book and laughs.

“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.

“Mission,” you groan.

She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”

“With Clarisse.”

She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.

As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.

She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.

“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

You put your lips right up to her ear.

“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”

“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”

“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”

“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”

“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”

She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.

She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.

The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.

You put your hand on her face.

“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”

What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?

You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.

Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.

And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.

She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.

She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.

You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.

She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.

You look into Marley’s eyes now.

“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”

Marley kisses your cheek.

“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”

“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.

Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.

You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.

—-

The bus ride is boring.

Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.

But you’re bored.

You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.

It’s only been two months.

As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.

You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.

You miss her.

“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.

“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”

“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”

“What?”

Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.

“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”

“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”

She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.

She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.

But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.

“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.

—-

You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.

Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.

You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.

“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”

You realize your head is on her shoulder.

You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.

“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.

You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.

She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.

She’s right up in your ear.

“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”

The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.

You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.

“I’d kill it.”

You both know you probably couldn’t.

She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”

Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.

She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.

She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.

“Hm, mine.”

You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.

You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?

It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.

You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”

Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.

—-

You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.

“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.

You can want her, here, where no one will know.

You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.

The station is oddly busy.

You have this horribly uneasy feeling.

You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.

She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.

You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.

But you trust yourself.

“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.

She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.

She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.

“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”

“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.

Why is she so fucking confusing?

As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?

She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.

You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.

“Clarisse.”

She seems to see it too.

“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.

She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”

When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.

You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.

Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.

The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.

You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.

It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.

That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.

The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.

Something slams against the door.

You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.

“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.

The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.

It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.

“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.

“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.

Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.

You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”

It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.

The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-

Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.

It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.

It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.

You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.

She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-

You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.

No one would know.

Her spear falls to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.

No one would know.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”

“No problem,” she says.

No one would know.

“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.

“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.

It’s so simple.

You both can get what you want from this trip.

“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”

“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.

You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.

You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.

You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.

No one else will ever come close.

“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”

She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.

—-

The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.

Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.

How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?

You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.

She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

—-

The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.

You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.

When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.

“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.

You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.

“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.

—-

The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.

“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.

“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.

Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.

Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.

You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.

“On your left!”

Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.

Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.

She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.

“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.

“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.

“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”

Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.

Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.

“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

—-

Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.

“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.

You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”

She stares at you for a moment.

“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.

Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.

Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.

“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.

It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.

“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”

She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.

“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.

“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.

She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”

You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”

She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.

“What was that?”

She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.

You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.

Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.

“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”

You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.

You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.

“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.

“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”

“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”

“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”

The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.

“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”

“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”

You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.

You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.

“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.

—-

“Clarisse.”

She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.

“Clarisse,” you repeat.

She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.

—-

Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.

You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.

You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.

You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.

You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.

It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.

You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”

She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.

“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.

“Don’t be mean.”

You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.

“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.

You whip around and point your finger at her.

“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”

Her smile falls.

“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”

Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.

—-

When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.

You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.

“Y/N.”

You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.

“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”

You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.

Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.

“A toy?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breathe hitches.

“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”

She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.

“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“I want you to let me love you.”

She lets go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”

“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.

“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”

You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”

“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”

You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.

But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.

She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.

Your fingers dig into her back.

“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.

—-

“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.

Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.

You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.

Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.

It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.

You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.

Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.

You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.

He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.

“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.

Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”

Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.

Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.

Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.

—-

marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.

clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟

—-

clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO

—-

honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n

another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk @lacytalks

—-

pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[hollisxwrites]

could you write a percy x daughter of dionysus reader? 🧎‍♀️🙏🏼

lay all your love on me

AGED UP percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: inspired by the "lay all your love on me" scene in momma mia!, just take out the funny background dancers. pretty spicy, not fully on smut, but definitely some heavy making out and innuendos. underwater kissing, mention of underage drinking and the reader being a little bit of a troublemaker, some language, possibly can be seen as slightly angst at the beginning with some little bitty bit of jealously. i really like this one!

summary: the reader is bored on a beach day with her boyfriend, percy, so she decides to tease him a little bit, which ends up with her and her boyfriend making out on the ocean floor LMAO.

Laughter filled the air as my boyfriend, Percy, and I sprawled out on the beach of Camp. It was one of the rare days of peace we had at Camp, a beautiful, glorious, Sunday. Percy looked stunning, as always, the sun warming his freckled face, and the sea making his already perfect hair even curlier. His swim trunks, even though they had unicorns in shark onesies on them, clung to his figure perfectly. I took a sip of my champagne that we had managed to steal out of the cabinet that my dad kept near his desk, and I tried to pry my eyes away from Percy. He was chattering out about something that had happened with the younger campers the day before, watching the waves from his perch against a rock. I wanted to distract him from the mundane talk of camp, so I decided I would mess with the boy a little bit.  

I stood up from where I sat near Percy and pulled off the oversized tee shirt that I had on over my swimsuit. The swimsuit was plum purple, and I knew Percy loved it, he made it abundantly clear every time I wore it. I stood near the water, about ten or eleven feet away from Percy when his conversation finally died down. “You look...beautiful, dear gods.” He choked out, his voice straining a little bit.  

I smiled and adjusted my hair, so it framed my face. “Thank you, darling.” I took another swig out of my champagne flute and turned so my back was to Percy. Soon enough, just as I expected, Percy was beside me. He moved to put his hand on my lower back, but I swatted his hand away. I looked over and saw the little pout on his face, and knew my mission was already succeeding.  

“I noticed you talking to Connor a lot yesterday, what’s that about?” Percy asked, his tone almost a little bitter, even though I could tell by his demeanor that he was joking with me. 

I shrugged. “I lived in the Hermes cabin for a long time, Mr. D never wanted to claim me because he didn’t want to have to punish his own daughter. I used to get into a lot of trouble at Camp.” 

Percy chuckled at this. “Oh, I know. What did Connor want, though? You guys don’t usually talk like that.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Perc.” I looked him in the eye. “He was just asking me if I knew who had stable duties this week, since we both are in trouble with Chiron right now.” 

Percy sighed, letting his eyes wander down my figure, which sent electric shock through my entire body. “Okay, I’m just not used to being so jealous. Any guy I see talk to you feels like a potential threat.” He moved closer to me, our fingers millimeters away from touching. 

“You have no reason to be afraid of other guys. You know I’ve only ever had eyes for you. You have all my love.” I said, comforting the boy. 

He nodded at this. “Sorry, I feel so possessive of you sometimes, you’re just so fucking beautiful, I know any guy would want to have you, but you’re mine.”    

A shiver ran down my spine. “That’s why I love you so much, Perc. That is exactly how I am with you. I don’t want anyone else to even look at you.” 

Percy leaned down a little bit, probably trying to kiss me, and I connected our noses, but never our lips. I moved away, pushing his muscular chest a little, and went to take a sip from the glass still in my hand. He smirked a little bit, finally catching onto the game I was playing with him. I set the glass down in the sand, and walked further into the water, thus further away from Percy. I flipped myself so I was facing him again. “Don’t go wasting your emotion, Perc. Lay all your love on me!”  

He giggled, obviously getting the ABBA reference I was making here. “Okay, miss disco queen.”  

I laughed, getting close enough to kiss him again. This time, just our top lips touch before I pull away and move back to the rock we were leaning against earlier. Perched again on the rock, I looked Percy in the eye. His eyes wandered once again to my figure in the swimsuit, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable, in fact, he made me feel so loved with his gaze. He moved towards me this time, and finally brought us together into a real kiss. My back pressed against the cool surface of the rocks, and I was fully immersed in the kiss. His hands went to my waist, pulling my chest flesh against his, causing my entire body to feel ignited by his touch.  

He separated us, leaving me panting and my knees weak. “Two can play this game, disco queen.” He ran off into the water, diving into the depths of the salty sea. 

“Not fair!” I shouted out after him, still trying to compose myself after the earth-shattering kiss we shared. Sure, as a Dionysus kid, I may have a lot of wit and a lot of charm, but I could not breath underwater like Percy could. Suddenly, I saw a mop of blond curls pop up from the water about half a mile into the distance. “Percy Jackson!” I yelled again. 

I saw, or at least I thought I did, him flipping me off from the distance, and that made the desire in me to catch him even stronger. I hopped in the water and started to paddle my arms, quiet poorly, trying aimlessly to catch up with the boy. I felt a hand grab my calf, and I yelped as I was pulled into the water. I came face to face with Percy. I hated to say it, but he looked even more attractive underwater, if that was even possible. His lips met mine, once again, and due to his touch and manipulation of the water, I could breathe, ish. His hands gripped me, pulling me further down into the dingy water. Being underwater with Percy was always a thrill, especially when we were making out like this, tongues clashing and hands being nowhere and everywhere all at once. When he finally parted from me, both of us were panting like dogs. “Gods, I love you.” 

I giggled, pressing a lingering kiss into his jawline. “I love you, too.”  

He bit his lip as I continued to press kisses into his jaw, his neck, and eventually his collarbones. Maybe it was the champagne going to my head, or maybe it was my handsome boyfriend, but I had never been happier than I was in this moment. My kisses went lower and lower down his abdomen, and I’m sure what you can guess what happened next. 

But, as they say, what happens in the ocean stays in the ocean, or something like that.    

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson show #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fluff #percy pjo #percy jackson imagine #percy jackon and the olympians

[waitingonher]

ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO! — [leo valdez dating headcanons]

author's note: i am ladies. where's my irl leo...wtf.

you and LEO VALDEZ are the definition of “if you do it, i’ll do it.” (a VERY common phrase in your relationship)

istg this guy is down to do ANYTHING. you wanna play dress-up and do his makeup? go ahead. you wanna participate in some cheesy couple trend? of course! he’d do anything to make you happy <3 (even if it means ruining his dignity) 

leo has so much love for you, and he is NOT afraid to show it. he for sure owns a million different variations of the “i ❤️my girlfriend” tee-shirt. he’s worn them so much that even chiron and mr. d stopped pestering him for not wearing the chb shirt 😭 

y’know that one topic you could talk about for hours on end? yeah, well you’re the topic leo could talk about for hours on end. you always feel bad for the unfortunate new camper who decides to ask “who’s on your shirt?” it always ends in them making an excuse to get out of the conversation. 

some may say he’s obsessed…i just call it the bare minimum!! 🤗

leo absolutely LIVES for your little gossip sessions. he’s not one of those bf’s who will try to give actual advice on how to handle the situation,, he’s the type to fully shit talk the person with you 😭 you guys are literally the “she’s also ugly…” audio and i know for a fact you guys have made a video using it LMFAO

he also has the entire timeline memorized. he could tell you exactly what month, what day, and what time so and so wronged you if you asked 😭 leo’s absolutely invested and will ask for updates every so often. 

considering how leo spends so much of his time in bunker 9, it’s almost your second home at this point. you can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve fallen asleep sitting with him as he’s worked on a project. but leo always carries you to bed! there’s no way he could allow his girlfriend to wake up with a sore neck! 

speaking of bunker 9, leo keeps a bulletin board full of photos with you and all your friends next to his workbench! when working on a particularly hard project, he’ll look over at the photos for some motivation. 

there’s nothing better than successfully convincing leo to come to bed, especially during those cold winter nights. he’s basically a big heater that can walk and talk. and leo’s super duper big on cuddling so it’s even better. why invest in a heater when you have him? 

LMFAO it’s so funny when it’s summer and he’s basically on his knees begging for cuddles 😭 it’s only then that he curses his strangely high body temperature.  

i also think it’s canon that leo’s a good cook…?? so you’re always eating good with him!! he just loves seeing your reaction to his food, especially when it’s your cultural food. leo knows how important it is to you and to know he could provide some semblance of what you grew up with, it makes him beyond happy. 

when you give him hugs from behind while he’s cooking >>> 

he melts every single time.

omg. breakfast in bed with leo. him shirtless wearing an apron that says “kiss the cook” while bringing you a plate with all your favorite breakfast foods <33 

pda king 🙏🙏 he loves pda, but not in the gross, obnoxious way. leo’s obviously smart enough to know when it’s the right time and place. 

he’s also really big on “splitting the pole” LMFAO 😭 if you’re walking down the street and a street sign is in the way he will literally pull you to his side while screaming, “don’t split the pole!” babes…it’s not that serious 🤒

his love languages are words of affirmations and acts of service. there’s nothing better than coming home to cuddle with you as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear after a long day. he really values all your thoughts and opinions, so it means so much to him when you say these things. 

when it comes to you, leo’s so incredibly supportive with everything you do. the minute you even slightly hint about picking up a new hobby, he’s already encouraging you to do it. 

he gets so upset when he gets those “these initials are soulmates” videos and your initials aren’t together 😭 one time you woke up to an entire essay-length text from him explaining why you two are extremely compatible in response to a video that said “these initials aren’t compatible” 

leo’s VERY attentive, especially when it comes to you. at this point, it’s like he knows you better than you know yourself. he always knows what you’re gonna say simply by your reaction. his brain literally goes “oh her right eyebrow raised slightly, i think she likes it!” and he ends up being right too.. 😭

or when he goes shopping without you and he sees something he thinks you’d like, and it ends up being something you’ve been wanting for the past few weeks?? at this point he might be reading your mind…

this also makes him the best gift giver ever! it could’ve been something you barely mentioned before bed, but he made a point to remember it and surprises you with it. 

he also likes to make you little gadgets that you never would’ve even thought of but are so helpful. one day you walk into your bathroom and leo’s sitting there polishing his newest project, and he tells you it’s a towel heater he made for you??? 

leo absolutely loves your family and will do everything in his power to build a close relationship with them. he knows how happy it makes you and he also just genuinely enjoys their company too! ooh and if you have siblings, especially if they’re younger, he just adores them to death…UGH he’s so so good with kids. 

whenever he buys you flowers, he also buys some for your mom too!! and considering his mechanic skills, he loves to work with your dad with his car/whatever needs fixing around the house  😭😭 your parents basically treat him like their own son and leo feels so incredibly lucky to have you guys in his life. 

this guy’s your #1 hype man + your personal tripod. when he’s taking your picture he’s literally screaming compliments behind the camera while suggesting poses for you to do 😭 he’s just so silly like that! and then when you post it, he’s up in the comments like “i took these where’s my credit  🤨🤨” 

you guys are at each other’s cabins so often that no one’s ever fazed when you’re at the door. they’re just like “who’s at the door?” “just y/n again.” 

and his siblings absolutely love you to death. they see how happy you make him and they love you for it. but they’re also strangely protective of you too. when you and leo get into those rare arguments they’re always like “what’d you do this time  🤨?” to him LMAO 

ugh but your younger siblings and his younger siblings all look up to you guys like you’re the pinnacle of love. it’s genuinely so sweet,, they always talk about how they want a relationship like you two when they’re older 

dancing in the refrigerator light but in bunker 9 under his workbench light.

i like to believe that leo always has music playing when he works, so when a good dancing song comes on, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to dance with you. 

sometimes it’ll be a song where you guys are just silently slow dancing together or it’s a song that has you two jumping up and down going crazy. the duality of his playlist! 

i just KNOW that at some point in your relationship, leo makes you a promise ring gjkdslfsl and i bet the stone has some sort of significance to you guys.

sometimes when you can’t wear it on your finger, you’ll string it onto your chb necklace and he just gets so giddy knowing that you care that much about it 😣

SPEAKING THROUGH MORSE CODE WITH HIM?? specifically when you’re in bed, both are too tired to talk, so you feel him tap “i love you” against your skin and you send the message back. 

can we all collectively agree that leo is like the most perfect boyfriend ever?? 😍😍 thanks!

#dividers from @chachachannah!! #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez fanfic #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fandom #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fluff #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you

[amoreva]

CAN’T CATCH A BREAK

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

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of demeter!reader

summary: in which you and luke leave camp for a date night, unfortunately interrupted due to some monsters

warnings: pet names “babe”, mentions of fighting/attacking, blood, mentions of clarisse and chris

a/n: yeah…thought of this rn and i couldn’t stop writing.

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

“Don’t you think Mr. D and Chiron will know and be absolutely pissed with us?” You adjusted the cherry red dress Clarisse had lent you, pulling the sweetheart neckline up. Luke had his arm wrapped around your waist as your heels clicked on the sidewalk of New York.

The son of Hermes looked absolutely dashing in a black button up tucked into black slacks and black dress shoes. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You couldn’t lie (would not) lie to say this man had you weak with an outfit like that.

“It’s one night, babe.” Luke reassured as the evening seeped into the orange, pink and yellow hues of the sky. “I think us year-rounders deserve one night to ourselves.”

“We’re getting weird looks.” You mumbled as the two of you passed a group of students. There was lanyards around their necks as they whispered about Luke and you traveling down Main Street in such formal outfits.

“They’re just jealous I have the most beautiful girlfriend in all of Olympus.” Luke grinned cheekily.

You hadn’t know what his exact plan was for this date night. This morning, a letter was placed on your bunk. Luke’s recognizable handwriting detailed of you and him going out and to dress fancy.

The two of you walk into a building with dimmed lights. The ambience was oddly cozy paired the soothing jazz music from the live band and the conversations of other patrons.

“Luke…” You gave a warning sign to him. You never expected to be taken out to a place that looked as fancy as this.

“Don’t worry. I got it.” Luke reassured with one of those charming grins. His hand slipped from your waist to grab your hand. The curly-haired half-blood guided you to velvet waiting booths. He kissed your knuckles sweetly before going to talk to the host.

You crossed your legs before looking through your white shoulder bag. You still had your lipgloss in there as well as some other makeup, US currency and drachmas (saved from previous quests).

It wasn’t long before Luke and you sat down at a table with a white table cloth draped on it. It was nothing like camp.

“Wait here.” Luke grinned like an excited little boy. He pressed a cheek to your cheek before running out of the restaurant.

He came back with a bouquet of flowers. A beautiful array of flowers all with different meanings. Baby’s breath, everlasting love, sprinkled with gardenias, telling you “you’re lovely”, and the simplicity of red roses, “I love you” in the language of flowers.

Your vast knowledge and interest of the language of flowers was what probably made your mother claim you in the first place.

“I….I—uh…hope I got the flowers all right.” Luke blushed sheepishly and you smiled. Your chest all fuzzy and warm that he made the effort do that.

You stood up from the chair and kiss his cheek, simultaneously taking the flowers from his arms. “You did.” You reassured.

The dinner ran smoothly for the rest of the evening. Luke and you enjoyed your night out with one another. The food was absolutely delicious compared to the camp food. He paid for the food using his saved up quest money (and a drachma for a tip, far as mortals know it was pure silver)

You were giggling, walking out of the restaurant and holding Luke’s arm. Luke was holding the flowers. “You did not!” You exclaimed.

“I did!” Luke retaliated. “I’m good with the sword not with crafts like flower crown making.”

“I taught you!”

“Before you arrived! 10 times I failed to make one.”

“Oh gods—”

You and Luke continued to walk through New York. The light pollution covered the stars, but the city was still beautiful. Yet, the two demigods got this uneasy feeling. The looked at the crowd in front of them.

Three women were staring directly at them, an unwavering smile on their face. Triplets. Same gray hair, same reddish pink scarf. Same handbags.

As each person passed the women turned into horrid creatures. The servants of Hades revealed their leathery wings and yellow claws. The handbags turned into whips as they stalked towards you and Luke

Furies; Alecto, Megaera and Tisiphone.

You fished your lip gloss out of your white shoulder bag, quite disappointed that date night couldn’t end on a good note. You took the lid of the lipgloss off and out revealed a celestial bronze sword, blessed with your mother’s plants wrapped along the handle.

Demeter’s kids were never much of fighters, but when they do fight they used their plant manipulation. You decided against it due to being in the city. Causing a commotion when you’re technically supposed to be at camp will get you and Luke bathroom duty.

Luke unsheathed his own sword and place his hand on your lower back. “On my mark.” Luke spoke against your ear which sent shivers down your spine. The bouquet of flowers were discarded on the floor.

The Mist would cover you two.

You glanced at your heels and then Clarisse’s dress that she had lent you. You’d feel terrible if you ruined your friend’s dress. “We were so close. One night in the city, no monsters.”

“Half-bloods can’t catch a break, babe.” Luke kissed the crown of your forehead. Maybe it was a little cocky for you two to look so nonchalant as the furies crept closer.

Suddenly, Megaera flew towards the two of you in heartbeat. She separated the two of you, beastly claws trying (and failing) to wrap around yours and Luke’s throats. A screech tore from her lungs as she changed course to attack Luke.

In the midst of that, Tisiphone swatted you with his wings, evidently throwing you off balance. You almost rolled an ankle because of those stupid heels.

Her claws reached out to maul you, but you held her back with your sword. You glanced at Alecto as if she was surveying the situation. You pushed Tisiphone back and swiped your sword in front of you; as if you were flicking the blood off your sword.

Tisiphone snarled and lunged at you again. Her claws wrapping around your left arm while the other was pulled back ready to strike. The momentum of her charge caused you to fly. Her wings keeping the two of you from touching ground.

Before she could even try and harm you, you thrusted the celestial bronze sword into Tisiphone’s abdomen. She dissolved like sand in the wind which ultimately led you to hit the pavement. Scratches and cuts now decorating your arms and legs. Clarisse’s dress tore and ripped.

You didn’t have anytime to worry about that when Alecto was on top of you pinning you to the floor. Your sword a little ways from you. You let go of it when you collided with the sidewalk.

Alecto screeched into your face, baring her yellow teeth. She was quite pissed you killed her sister. You flinched, but a sword went through her skull. The tip of the celestial bronze penetrated Alecto’s forehead.

She reduced to ashes and you were greeted with your boyfriend’s dashing looks. There was a claw mark on the space between his neck and shoulder. “Are you okay?” Luke helped you up and surveyed your mild injuries.

“Yeah. Clarisse’s dress is ruined is all.” You mumbled and glanced at the dress. “She was going to wear it to her date with Chris!”

“Hey, we’ll fix it. I can use up my favor Hera’s son owes me.” Luke reassured and picked up your weapon. He capped it for you and grabbed your bag and flowers.

“Are you okay?” You asked Luke.

“Fine.” He smiled and nodded.

Luke and you quickly made it back to camp. You had the take off your heels because your feet were killing you. It had to be later in the evening 10pm or 11pm when you and Luke arrived at camp again.

Mr. D’s voice boomed in your minds, calling your names angrily. You looked at Luke with a glare. You were right! You were going to get in trouble.

Luke just smiled mischievously and kissed your lips as you two walked to the Big House near the lake. “Worth it.” He uttered against your lips.

“You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress and I got to see you fight in it.” Luke complimented and wrapped his arm around your waist again. “That’s worth years of bathroom duty.”

Your glare broke and you smiled as him with a shake of your head. “He’s going to tear us a new one.”

“I know.”

“You scared?”

“Just a tad.”

Luke and you entered the Big House that overlooked the lake. Chiron had his arms crossed while Mr. D didn’t have his legs propped up on the table as per usual. The look of anger spoke a thousand words. They couldn’t catch a break even at Camp.

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

#percy jackson and the olympians #percy series #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo

[ma1dita]

now that we're older

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

words: 3.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3

(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)

—

Luke lets you love him in the nighttime. 

It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours. 

And you let him. 

The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.

Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.

“You okay, angelface?”

Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.

“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”

Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”

“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.

“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.

He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.

“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.

Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.

“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.

“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.” 

“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s writing  it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare. 

“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”

He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously. 

“Got off the hook, trouble?”

The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.

“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”

“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.

Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”

“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”

“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”

“You’re my favorite memory, trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.

“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.

“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.

“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”

He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.

“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this. 

Not a dream, nor a titan.

You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…”

—

You let him love you in the mornings.

Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug. 

This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream. 

Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.

You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ” 

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”

“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.

“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”

Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”

He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.

“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”

He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”  

“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes…None of it matters.”

“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…

“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.

“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”

“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”

“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”

He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?” 

You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.

He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.

“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?” 

You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.

“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”

He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…

The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”

You both sigh.

“You signed up for offense?”

“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, trouble…”

Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.

“Hey! Oof—”

Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.

“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”

Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.

“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”

“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”

You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.

Not if he can help it.

“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”

You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”

“What was that baby?”

Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”

Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.

“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”

Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.

You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder. 

Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.

—

“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl

 ½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #luke castellan fluff

[xspeter]

LOML

luke castellan x fem!reader

angst, angst, angst. mini blurb to help me get my flow back :) based off of LOML by Taylor Swift.

Percy Jackson isn’t sure what’s worse. Luke’s betrayal, or the look on your face when you find out. He’s sure he’ll get nightmares about it.

You’d had a wide smile on your face, the woven flower crown in your hair hinting that you’d just been out at the flower fields with your siblings.

You’d been called to help patch up Percy after what you had been told was a fight, but the somber energy in the room immediately told you something was off. It was too suspicious to have Chiron, Mr. D, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all in the room for what was supposed to simply be slapping on a band-aid.

The smile on your face fell, and was instead replaced with a subtle frown. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. “Is something wrong?” You asked, eyeing everyone in the room.

Percy swallowed and hesitantly glanced to Annabeth, who already had the remnants of tears in her eyes. And if the glossiness told him anything, it was that she was about to burst out crying again. Not that he could blame her.

He watched your frown grow as recognition flashed across your face. You and Luke always had been so in tune to each others emotions, he’s honestly surprised you didn’t notice the lack of his presence earlier.

“Y/N-” Chiron started, but you interrupted him. “Where’s Luke?”

Silence.

Percy didn’t believe in soulmates. It’s weird, because after finding out about greek gods and mythological beings being real, you’d think soulmates wouldn’t be that far off the table. But, they were.

But you and Luke had something Percy could tell was special. It wasn’t just a relationship - it was like a sacred bond bestowed upon the two of you by the gods themselves. Wherever Luke was, you’d be sure to follow, and vice versa. Fuck, you’d practically finish each other’s sentences as corny as that sounded.

That’s why he was so confused Luke would throw it all away so easily.

“Y/N…” Mr. D started, and Percy was sure it was the most emotion he’d ever even seen from him. You immediately began shaking your head, hands trembling as you stared at the ground. “Where is he?” You questioned again.

More silence followed, and Percy knew no one wanted to answer you, and he could understand why. Still, he took a breath and forced himself to look up at you. “He’s gone.”

It was like the five stages of grief flashed in your eyes simultaneously - merging together but still so distinguishable.

“No, he’s not.” You whimpered, “He’s in his cabin. I just saw him barely an hour ago-”

“He tried to kill Percy,” Annabeth finally breathed out. “He wants to overthrow the gods.”

You shook your head, a disbelieving laugh leaving your lips as you ran a trembling hand through your hair, moving up the white flower crown until it was lopsided on your head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said through gritted teeth, “Luke wouldn’t do that. I know him. I know him. He wouldn’t. It must’ve been- been a shapeshifter or something. I mean, with all the other monsters out there there has to be a shapeshifter right? Yeah. That’s all it was. It wasn’t Luke.”

Percy squeezed the table in front of him until his knuckles were white, doing his best to choke down his tears. It was a tempting idea, one that he’d have no problem believing if it hadn’t been for the look in Luke’s eyes. No monster could recreate that kind of rage.

“It was him,” Percy spoke up, “I know it was.”

“You don’t know anything!” You yelled, eyes wild and skin paling, “You don’t know Luke like I do! He wouldn’t do this! Sure, he gets mad at the gods sometimes, but don’t we all? It doesn’t mean we’re gonna up and start a whole rebellion!”

Grover attempted to reach out to you, tears forming in his dark eyes, “I know it’s hard-” He attempted, but you practically jumped away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You growled lowly, pointing an accusing finger in his face. Grover didn’t argue.

Everyone in the room stared at you in pity, and it made you sick. You’d show them. Luke was in his cabin right now, probably trying to sleep or playing with one of the younger campers. Because that’s what Luke does - that’s the Luke you know.

You were the love of his life. He’d told you just two days ago during a secret picnic on the beach way past your curfew. You’d choked up, but told him the same through your tears. Luke had kissed you so hard you swore you were seeing stars, and you remember thinking this kiss had felt different than all the others. Almost desperate, like he was trying to grasp onto something he knew he was losing.

No.

Luke was in his cabin.

You’d left the Big House without even a grunt, practically sprinting across camp to the Hermes cabin. You didn’t care about the weird looks the stragglers were giving you, didn’t care about the soft ache in your legs. You needed to see Luke. Needed to feel him. Needed to intertwine your souls again.

You were panting by the time you reached it, throwing the doors open and looking around wildly. “Luke?” You called, voice breaking a bit as you did.

“Y/N?” someone said, you didn’t know their name. Or maybe you did. You honestly couldn’t remember right now, the only thing running through your mind was Luke.

“Have you seen Luke?” You asked.

The camper shook her head, blonder hair falling in front of her face as she did. “Hey, are you okay-”

You were gone before she could even finish her sentence. You spent hours searching for him, like he was a pair of house keys you’d lost and desperately needed in order to go home.

The moon was high into the sky by the time you stop, your vision blurry with tears and muscles burning. You’d even prayed to your father at some point - which was something you rarely ever did.

You fall to your knees in the grass, hand clutching at the golden bracelet on your wrist. Like had given it to you two nights ago on the beach, embroided in it were the letters “LOML.”

He’dtold you it was because you were the love of his life, but right now in this moment, with your chest puffing and knees weak, you think it may stand for something else.

Because while you may be the love of Luke Castellan’s life, he was the loss of yours.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #fanfic #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #grover underwood #chiron #mr. d #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #angst #percy jackson fanfic #x reader #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #loml #loml taylor swift

[starflirts]

I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU (HOW YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I TURN TO)

in which you and percy must navigate the intricacy of love and glory in the midst of terror percy jackson x ares! reader, wc: 1.8k, warning: violence, description of wounds/blood, note: thank you so much for requesting!!! and yes, i picked the quest members randomly SUE ME

Percy was busy this summer. On top of his daily activities at camp, the Oracle had bestowed on him a particularly tedious quest which he eagerly accepted, not one to miss out on adventure. But the last few days have been tough for everyone. The quest Percy and his friends had taken on proved to be way more demanding than expected and monsters seemed to constantly appear out of nowhere. Looking over his shoulder to ensure everyone was okay, he noticed you trailing behind Annabeth and Thalia, backpack slung over your shoulder. Even with tired eyes and a couple of cuts on your face, you were the prettiest being he’d ever seen.

“I think we can stop here for the night,” his voice cuts into the silence of the early evening. “we’re not far off our destination and if Thalia's mapping is correct we might be a few days early. That’s great news !” 

The rest of the group nodded, each setting down their bags and stretching. “Thalia and I are gonna settle here, call us if you guys need anything.” Annabeth said, to which Percy acquiesced.

As soon as they moved off, Percy's gaze turned to you, sitting on a rock with your backpack on your knees, looking away.  

“Hey angel,” he approached you, one hand brushing your arm before settling himself by your side. “How are you holding up ?”

Looking at him for a brief second, you shrugged, opting to play with your dagger, a gift from your father, the infamous god of war. 

Taking your silence for an invitation to continue, Percy adds: “I can’t believe we made it this far so quickly you know ? Everything is going smoothly and if we get back to camp this early Chiron might see us fit for another outing !” 

His words feel like pit scorpion stingers and you close your eyes, huffing through your nose. That's when he notices how taut your shoulders are. He frowns, attempting to meet your eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong ?” he tentatively rubs your back. “Do you need anything ? I might have a few snacks Grover packed before we left..”

The mention of your friend back at camp half-blood makes your stomach clench. You miss Grover, you miss camp. Hades, Mr D’s stupid shirts are even starting to grow on you. This quest seemed to go on forever and you wished Percy wouldn’t be so stubborn about it. Putting your stuff away you sigh, looking up towards the stars slowly coming out of hiding. “I don’t need anything Percy.” you answer dryly. 

You can see him from the corner of your eye, looking at you skeptically. “Is this because we’re still on the road ? You know the worst is over, I think we’re in the clear about monsters and all… And then, if everything goes exactly as planned we’ll be back at camp in a couple of days.”

You press the heel of your hands against your eyes, as if his voice was enough to give you a headache. “I don’t care, Percy. I don’t wanna know about that stupid plan or those stupid monsters. The quest is the only thing that has been coming out of your mouth ever since Chiron told you to go talk to the Oracle. Even when we’re at camp you only seem to care about going away !” you finally snap, staring at him crossly. 

Percy’s confused, you can see it in the way his brows furrow. “Listen, it’s- it’s important, okay ? These quests, these prophecies, they’re vital if you want to prove yourself, to grow stronger ! How do you think we’d be doing in the real world without this ?”

You sigh, toying with your bracelet, a gift your boyfriend had given you last summer. “That’s not what I meant Percy ! You’re just so… You give your all to all of this and I understand, I admire you for that ! But it sucks to see you risk everything so often, to see you come back all hurt and bruised.” 

“Would you like it better if I stayed at camp and did nothing then ?” it’s his turn to get upset, arms crossed as he stares at you. 

“No ! Of course not ! I just wished you knew how to take care of yourself and others at the same time ! You’re all up in your head sometimes, barely acknowledging me, or anyone else for that matter !” you let out an annoyed laugh. 

“Oh so you’re mad because we can’t hang out like we used to ? Come on, you know how serious that is ! Of course I care about you but this is important too !”

You scoff, turning away from the boy. “Glory is important to you, I get it ! It’s what runs in your blood. But why can’t you see how it affects others, me ?”   

Percy runs a hand in his hair, obviously distressed. He calls out your name, a hint of dejection in his voice. “I think the journey has taken a toll on you. We should talk about it, about us ! You don’t mean that.” he reaches out but you step away. “Yeah, right. Is there even an us right now ? Maybe I’m just a hindrance. You’d definitely do greater things without me pestering you” you breathe out, angrily wiping your eyes. 

Your words slice his heart and you can see a twinge of sadness in his eyes. “Come on–”

He barely has time to finish this sentence when Annabeth yells from behind: “Watch out !” Briskly turning around, the boy is faced with two enormous hellhounds. Drawing out his beloved Riptide, Percy slashes the air, attempting to get the monsters to back off. When the two creatures jump forward instead, Percy’s mind goes blank. He can only think about everyone’s survival. In his line of vision, he can see Annabeth and Thalia actively defending themselves. But he can’t see nor hear you and that’s enough to make his heart beat ten times quicker. He can’t afford to diverge his attention right now but he knows you, he knows you can put up a fight. You’re not the pride of Ares’ cabin for nothing after all. 

One down, Percy thinks as his sword pierces through the monster’s fur. Brushing off the dust sticking to his face with bloodied knuckles, he turns around in horror as he hears a bloodcurdling scream. Your scream. His feet drive him to you as fast as they can, only to find you wrestling with the remaining hellhound on the ground, its fangs sinking into your flesh. 

Percy sees red. He lunges at the creature, weapon raised. Within a few minutes, what remains of the monster is the flickering black dust disappearing in the moonlight. Out of breath, Percy rushes to your side when he notices you’re not getting up. 

“Hey hey ! It’s over, you’re- you're okay.” His hands on your shoulders, “C’mon, we gotta get you up.” He tries to get you in a seating position but the whimper you let out makes his heart clench. You grab his shoulder with a shaky hand, throat prickling as you attempt to tell him something. 

“Hurts Percy…it hurts…” and that’s when he notices the gash on your lower stomach, shirt ripped to shreds and blood dripping down. A wave of nausea hits him but he holds on, applying pressure on your wound. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re- we’re gonna get you back to camp, we’re gonna help you. Just… Just talk to me yn, don’t close your eyes.” Percy’s hands shake as he tries to keep you conscious while Thalia and Annabeth fumble around him with a makeshift stretcher. 

Even now, Percy is still amazed at how fast they all ran back to camp, guilt plaguing his mind as Chiron and a couple of dryads took your inert body and carried you to the infirmary. 

The next few days are awful. Percy’s at the edge of your bed night and day, feeding you nectar and ambrosia, dabbing the sweat off your forehead when you strike up a fever, helplessly watching a kid from the Apollo cabin change your bandages. When you finally come out, he’s sat at the edge of your bed, head in his hands. 

The sun peaking out from the closed curtains is still too bright when you open your eyes. You frown, slowly raising your arm to cover them. The rustling of sheets has Percy whipping his head in your direction and even in your daze, you can see his shoulders sag with relief.

“Hey…” he says softly. 

“Wha– what happened ?” you speak out, voice husky.  

He’s sitting next to you within seconds, hand gently holding yours. You can see he’s trying really hard to find the right words, to tell you exactly how his nightmare played out. “We…We were on the way back to camp after our quest. We were all exhausted and- and we fought… I’m so sorry yn,” he pauses, voice shaky. “We didn’t have time to talk things through… Two hellhounds appeared out of nowhere and by the time I turned to look for you I– I  saw you on the ground. You were fighting the monster but he got you really bad and when he was gone I wanted to see if you were okay and– and you weren’t.. There was so much blood and you were in so much pain and–”

You squeeze his hand twice, cutting him off. He looks at you and this time you can clearly see the tears forming at his lash line. 

“It’s okay Percy,” you smile weakly, thumb drawing circles on his skin. “We made it, you made it.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “No, no it’s not. I was terrified when we brought you here. I was mad at myself for fighting with you and I was so, so scared to lose you. I kept repeating our last interaction in my head and thinking that those words might’ve been our last made me realize how stupid I am for not noticing how I hurt you. You’re right. I get too much in my head. And… I can’t do anything when I’m not with you. I know this might sound silly but I need you with me all the time.”

You let out a small chuckle. “It’s fine Percy. I am partially to blame too y’know… I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I– I didn’t mean what I said. Of course there’s still an us. I guess I got too much in my head too.” you smile at him sheepishly. “And I hope you know I wouldn’t deal so nicely with any of this demigod bullshit if you weren’t by my side all the time.” you add with a mischievous smirk and Percy’s heart swells. 

Resting his forehead against yours, his hands are on your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “We’ll be alright angel. We’ll always be alright as long as we’re together.”

#percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #pjo imagine #pjo x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson angst #pjo fluff #pjo angst #percy jackson fic

[wlntrsldler]

ii. and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. | luke castellan | state of grace

sixteen-year-old luke castellan has his first kiss with you, the girl he'd been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

sixteen-year-old luke castellan was shooting daggers at annabeth right now while she playfully approached you, pretending to expose his crush on you. 

“beth!” he hissed, making a ‘cut-it-out’ motion with his hands. chris chuckled softly from beside him, too entertained by the situation unfolding. luke jabbed his elbow into chris’ rib, unable to handle two of his so-called friends laughing at his demise. “annabeth, please don’t!” 

that caught your attention. you turned around to see annabeth, a sheepish smile on her face as she awkwardly waved at you. you cocked an eyebrow before tilting your head to see luke, half-standing from the bench with a frozen expression on his face. chris was doubled over in laughter, nearly falling off his seat. 

“come with me,” you placed both hands on beth’s shoulders, letting her lead you to the two hermes boys. you stood in front of them, removing your hands from beth and crossing them over your chest. you playfully pointed between the three of them, “care to tell me what this is about?” 

“i think luke should tell you,” chris shrugged, making eye contact with annabeth. the two of them erupted in giggles and luke wanted the ground to swallow him whole. if it wasn’t for his friends’ actions, he’s sure it would’ve been the redness on his cheeks that gave it away. 

“well, go on, head counselor,” you bit your bottom lip, finding his blushing face completely adorable. 

you and luke got closer over the past two years since he got to camp. he was always around the athena cabin, at first because he wanted to be close to annabeth, but everyone knew that it slowly morphed into wanting to see you and hang out with you more. because he was always with you, the campers got to know him fairly quickly. luke was right– everyone did love you, and by association, the campers liked him too, or at least, tolerated him. 

you were known to be the nicest head counselor, even before you took the position from oliver, known as the best archer in camp’s history, and the wisest daughter of athena. the more luke hung out with you and got to know you, the more his feelings for you developed.

in his defense, it was hard not to fall for you. he’d never met anyone as funny as you. every time he returns to the hermes cabin from being with you, his stomach hurts from laughing so much. you seemed to finish each other’s sentences so the punchlines of the jokes die on the tip of your tongues, but you’re both out of breath from laughing that not finishing the joke didn’t even matter. 

you took care of everyone at camp, even if they weren’t your own siblings. he’d seen you bandage travis and connor stoll up one too many times and let them go instead of writing them up for one of their pranks. the boys would return to the hermes cabin, heads hanging low, with a look of short-lived apologies on their faces when luke asked them about why they had bandages on their forearms. luke pretended not to notice the knowing smiles the two troublemakers shared whenever he would say, you’re lucky counselor y/n was there. 

you were fearless. you were often chosen to be a companion for quests because everyone knew you were the best. you never denied them and it got to the point where chiron and mr. d had to make a public service announcement that you were no longer allowed to go on quests unless it was your own because camp fell apart during the weeks you were away. the first time luke prayed to the gods, to his father, was when you returned from a particularly difficult quest with clarisse and you were in the infirmary for three days.

but above all that, you made luke a better person. you inspired him to always find kindness in everything. you cared so much about your siblings and the campers and it made him open himself up to care for his own siblings. he and chris were inseparable now and luke knew he probably wouldn’t have been ready to get close to other people if it weren’t for you. you pushed him to work on his sword work, helped him understand strategies, and taught him everything about camp. eventually, people took note of him and he became the hermes head counselor not too long after. 

in between all of these things were luke’s favorite moments; like the calm minutes after hours-long training sessions, where you reveal something new about yourself. you’d go on and on about a random story that goes off into at least ten tangential stories, but luke didn’t care. he’d gladly lay on his stomach, letting the rays of the sun beat down on his back until his skin turned red and hot to the touch, to hear you talk. you’d roll over on your back or prop your chin on your open palm and ask him questions about himself. and luke would tell you things he’d never told anyone before. luke treasures these moments in his mind– small, happy memories, like a step-by-step guide on how to fall in love. 

“they were just going to pull a prank,” he lied, ignoring the ‘thumbs-down’ motion annabeth sent his way and the ‘womp womp’ that chris let slip past his lips. “told them to quit it.” 

“tsk, tsk,” you tutted, but there was no anger on your face, only fondness. you looked at annabeth, “i expected better from the daughter of athena, but you’re too much like your brother.” 

“oh, ew, don’t say that,” annabeth shook her head, walking away as luke raised his hands in defense. chris pat luke on the back, following annabeth back to camp to join everyone else. 

“i am offended that she is in her, ‘i hate my brother phase,” luke scoffed, shaking his head. he moved over to let you sit on chris’ previous seat. “i’m not that bad to warrant an ‘ew.’”

“she loves you,” you nudged him, letting your shoulder stay connected to his. “she’s exactly like you, even if she doesn’t admit it.” 

“she’s got the good parts of me,” he replied, looking down at where his shoulder was touching yours. his hand slowly crept to yours, trying not to be super awkward about it. 

he’d held hands with you before, when you’d mindlessly lace your fingers together underneath the table while you were talking to someone, wanting to feel him there, making sure that he was next to you or when you’d hold his hand during moments where he’d get so frustrated with the gods that you had to calm him down. but he always got nervous initiating it.

over the years, he’d grown to be strong and unafraid, but when it came to you, his resolve crumbled. with you, he was just a teenage boy with a crush.

“so, she’s got all of you,” you said, noticing his hand moving closer. you put a hand over his, flipping it over so you could properly hold it. you squeezed his hand making him rub his thumb across the back of yours.

“not all of me,” he turned his head to look at you, “i see parts of you in her, too.” 

“you mean our mom.”

“no, i don’t,” luke replied, sincerity in his eyes. “i mean you.” 

sure, annabeth was brilliant like the daughter of athena should be. she was always six steps ahead of everyone else and she quickly became your right-hand woman when coming up with strategies for capture the flag. there was no doubt that annabeth was a daughter of athena.

but there were so many parts of you, the person she looked up to the most, in her as well. annabeth was more patient than luke. she can explain things to younger campers, and sometimes older ones, a hundred times without getting frustrated that they weren’t grasping the concept. luke had to walk away so many times when he got frustrated. you’re such a hot head, luke, you said to him once, a teasing smile on your face as you ran your hands down his back to help him relax. beth also grew to read people well. she can hear the unspoken words in conversations and know exactly what someone needs, a heightened sense of emotional intelligence that luke knew she couldn’t have learned from anyone else but you.

there were other, simpler, things too; like how annabeth doesn’t tie her shoes too tightly, unless she was training or competing, so she can slip her shoes on and off easily, or how she tucks her camp necklace under her shirt just like you. 

the look in luke’s eyes was intense. you had to look away before you lost your senses and connected your lips with his. he does this often, say things so nonchalantly like it didn’t make your breath catch in your throat. he says these words with such clarity, like the only things he’d ever been sure of in his life were the things he says about you or to you. it made your head spin. 

“so,” you changed the subject, untangling your hands from each other to turn your entire body to face him. you poked his cheek with your index finger, “you gonna tell me the truth about what that was?” 

“what’s that?” he asked, dumbly, trying to act like chris and beth didn’t just leave you alone with him. he pretended to think, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “dunno what you’re talking about?” 

you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. you felt him wrap an arm around your torso, his chest rumbling as he laughed at your reaction. you looked up at him, temple pressed against his shoulder blade, “c’mon, luke,” 

“no,” he shook his head, face turning red again, “it’s humiliating.” 

“if i tell you a secret, can you tell me yours?” you whispered. luke shivered at the feeling of your breath hitting his skin. he felt the goosebumps rising on his arms that he had wrapped around you. you pulled your head away from him, creating more distance, “how does that sound?” 

“no promises,” he replied, eyes darting to your lips for a brief second. he cleared his throat, “if your secret is a good one, then maybe i’ll consider it.” 

“oh it’s a good one,” you said, mischief in your eyes. there were only a handful of moments where you let go of your head counselor persona, where you’d join the hermes cabin in wreaking havoc on camp.

his sixteenth birthday came to mind. you arranged for a surprise birthday party for him. he woke up to an empty cabin, which was rare, and camp was deserted when he left to grab breakfast. when he got to the dining hall, all the food prepared were his favorites and there was a messily painted banner hanging across the walls, courtesy of the art skills of the younger campers you taught during arts and crafts the day before. 

the food wasn’t nutritional at all and mr. d made it clear that it would never happen again. i don’t know what i was thinking saying yes to an all-day sugar rush, he muttered after the third instance of young kids breaking their arms from attempting to climb up on their cabin roofs. maybe twinkies and salt and vinegar potato chips were not the healthiest breakfast foods, but luke thought it was perfect.

he received his present from you after, a messenger bag for the son of the god of messengers and a compass that always pointed him back to the athena cabin. so you always find your way home, you reasoned. 

luke knew he didn’t need a compass to bring him back to you. his dad gave him the ability to always find his way back home and he was glad you knew that to him, home was wherever you were. on his sixteenth birthday, with you under his arm and the compass safely tucked inside his pocket, for the first time, he was thankful to be his father’s son. 

that look of mischief in your eye always meant that you had something up your sleeve and luke didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. luke pressed, “tell me, then.” 

“i have a crush on this boy,” you scrunched your face up, cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink.

he pursed his lips, heart dropping. he knew this time would come. he was thankful that he was spared from the boy talk that you engaged in with your other friends. he often heard you and silena squealing about some guy one of you liked and he was glad that you had other friends to talk to about it because he couldn’t handle you gush over another guy when he felt this deeply about you. 

“it’s the new aphrodite kid, isn’t it?” luke asked, pulling away from you. “everyone is in love with him. even clarisse said he was cute! i personally don’t see it.” 

you rolled your eyes, “luke, come on.” 

“what?” he asked, “i’m pretty sure he’s not even a natural blond.” 

you didn’t know if luke was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t realize that you were talking about him. you’d been blatantly obvious about how you felt about him, at least you thought you had been. you were always sitting beside him, choosing him to be your partner for head counselor activities, spent every free moment you had with him, and you were touchy with him, more than you were with anyone else at camp. at this point, all that was left to do was to spell it out for him. 

you laughed, throwing your head back in laughter, “it’s not jack.” 

“who then?” 

“nope,” you said, shaking your head. “you gotta tell me your secret now because i told you mine.” 

“that was like half a secret, angel!” 

“okay so tell me half of your secret!” 

“fine,” he relented, “i have a crush, too.” 

your eyes widened, heart beating a million miles an hour. you knew how he felt about you, but you'd just been waiting for him to say something. “now, you have to tell me!” 

“you first!” luke laughed, reaching out to grab you when you got up. you slipped past his fingers, walking away. “come back!” 

your laughter filled his ears as you stood behind him. you wrapped your arms around him, propping your chin on his shoulder. luke nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a content sigh. he tilted his head to the side, his lips ghosting over the skin of your arm. 

you stayed like that for a few beats until he broke the silence. he should be upset right now because you liked a boy and wouldn’t tell him who it was, but it was hard to be mad when you were holding him like this. he looked up at you, a boyish grin on his face, eyes half open, “you gonna tell me?” 

“it’s obvious,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. he purred under your touch, grabbing a hold of your arms to stop you from leaving his side. you weren’t planning to. “come on, luke. use that pretty little head of yours.” 

luke tucked his face into the crease of your elbow, hiding his blush. he racked his brain for anyone else who you could have a crush on, but his mind ended up blank. when he thought of who on this earth could deserve you, he came up with no names. there was nobody who was good enough for you. 

he changed his strategy. who did you hang out with at camp? he tried to think of the people he saw you with. he’s seen you with the boy from the apollo cabin a few times but that was usually only when one of your siblings got injured. maybe the boy from the hephaestus cabin? the one who made his sword? no, you only talked to him on luke’s behalf that one time when you noticed he needed a new sword because he broke it during a particularly intense training session with you. he frowned. the only guy you actually hung out with at camp was him. and that couldn’t possibly be… unless? 

luke’s head snapped up, “do you like me?” 

“do you like me, he says,” you mimicked, “took ya long enough.” 

you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before running away from him, giggling and blushing like a school girl. luke couldn’t react quick enough to stop you from leaving, too dazed at your rushed confession. when he snapped back to his senses, he jumped from his seat, using all his strength to chase after you. he was thankful for his growth spurt because he caught up to you before you entered the main area of camp. 

he wrapped his arms around your hips, twirling you around, ignoring your sounds of protests. he stared at you as you beat on his chest, hair in disarray from the wind. his lips were in a full-blown grin, head spinning with thoughts of you. you. you. you. you were all he could think about. 

he finally put you down but left his hands on your hips as you tried to fix your messy hair. he liked you like this, soft and shy. it was a part of you that felt like was reserved for him. usually, you took on this authoritative, caretaker role, always having the weight of responsibility resting on your back, but with him, in these secret moments, you were delicate. luke wanted to protect you from everything, not because he thought you needed his protection, but because he felt like he’d finally found his purpose in this life-- to be with you. it was still caused by the hands of fate but away from the meddling of the gods.

“you like me,” he teased, pinching the skin of your hips. 

“don’t get cocky,” you replied, smacking his chest. 

luke hummed, leaning closer, “i like you too.”

“i know,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “just wanted you to confess first.” 

“c’mon angel, cut me some slack,” he blushed, eyes darting to your lips. he ran his tongue across his lips, “didn’t think i had a shot with you.” 

“you need to start giving yourself more credit, luke,” you reached over to cradle his face in your palm. your eyes traced over his features, mesmerized by the pools of honey in his eyes, the pink of his plump lips, “you’re the best person i know.” 

“all ‘cause of you,” there were those words again. there was no room for argument when luke spoke about you. he was sure of it, too sure of you.

“are you gonna kiss me or am i gonna have to make all the moves in this relationship?” 

luke rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 

he placed his lips on yours, unable to stop himself from smiling as you kissed back. he pushed you towards him, wanting to feel you closer. the kiss was short because you were both breathless and grinning. it was messy and uncoordinated with it both being your first kisses. when he pulled his lips away from yours, he placed kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, his curls tickling your skin. 

eventually, he stopped in a fit of giggles, lips puffy and pink. there was a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. he let go of your hips but threaded your fingers together as you walked into camp, burying his face into your hair when he heard chris and beth hollering in support when they saw your intertwined hands and disheveled demeanors. 

#frances writes #frances song fics #state of grace #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I would like to request a oneshot of clarisse x fem reader where they are rivals, but during one of Dionísio's children's parties, a small "slip" occurs (kissing and making out sessions fr) and reader ends up waking up in the morning in clarisse's bed and reader doesn't remember anything.

If you don't want to do this that's fine!

- mistakes were made -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

An - i do Write every request fun-fact except for a select few but yeah it’s normally in order unless I get Like such a good one I have to write it right then and there BUT! It’s almost always in order of request 😻😻‼️ anyways request more I’m loving them all

An Pt 2 - im having writers block ☹️

Did you think you were going to be here.. no. But we’re you complaining. Also no..

You were sitting off the edge of a cliff with clarisse while capture the flag happened behind you. Her hands on your hip while yours were pinned by her waist helping you both lean on one another.

Just exchanging soft slow kisses neither saying a word. You pulled away only slightly hiding your face in her neck embarrassed. Since you first arrived at camp you both had this un-natural rivalry, from athletics to academics and beyond.

However after a month ago you both haven’t been able to keep your hands off one another. Finding every excuse or situation to be alone, though nobody knew about your secret makeouts, and no one would.

Some ares kids in the distant started shouting for clarisse bringing you both back to earth. With a heavy sigh she pulled away from you. Standing up she started to grab her spear and helmet.

Following her lead and grabbing your weapons you had started to zone out once again thinking about what you were doing. Jumping some clarisses arms snakes around your waist. “Your gonna be at the party tonight right?” She asked kissing your cheek softly.

“Yeah, im showing up with silena” you closed your eyes and leaned back slightly into her. Clarisse Just hummed in Response. “Great… I’ll see you then” she let you go but not without slapping your ass one good time. Before you could yell at her she was already running off to catch up with her siblings.

••

Standing around near a tree the party quickly got more and more chaotic. Chiron was long gone not really caring as to how or why he left, Mr. D the man who the party was for also had left most likely due to not liking being around all the campers.

With the littles away and in bed the Hermes cabin quickly broke into the dispensary and spiked the punch. One thing you knew was demigods and alcohol don’t mix well.

Your friends all gone and left with some guy or girl into the woods to do what only the gods could judge them for. Finally having enough of being alone you walked past the bonfire, grazing against clarisses shoulder as you did before heading towards the table.

Taking a seat towards the end of the table you swung your legs back and forth just trying to find something to enjoy.

“It’s improper to sit on a table” clarisse spoke making you jump as you hadn’t seen her follow you. Sarcastically sighing you pushed her back by hitting her arm.

“Shut up I’m resting my legs” you chuckled, the effects of the alcohol causing you to be more favorable towards her. After a moment you brought your head up watching as clarisse just leaned on the table beside you watching the kids around. “What are You doing?”

“People watching” she nonchalantly shrugged. “Him, Chris how much you want to bet he has a crush on the new Athena kid” clarisse moved closer to you trying hard to be sly though you saw right through her act, but you played along and leaned into her as well.

“Maybe” You Hummed. “What about Luke who do you think he likes” looking up you admired her gentle eyes, even if clarisse wanted to deny it when her face was calm she looked ethereally beautiful.

“Nobody im telling you that man would rather die than let anyone hit” she rolled her eyes with a smile, turning her head to look down at you she didn’t bother hiding her sarcastic grin.

“Well I guess I’m glad your not like him” everything in the background went semi silent as the small gap between you both closed.

Your lips softly touched one another’s. The first kiss was slow and gentle, your lips barley grazing over one another. Though it only lasted a moment before clarisse placed her hand on the side of your face deepening the kiss. The faint taste of alcohol on her lips, contrasting her subtle cologne. Pulling apart from her you quickly noticed campers looking over whispering and running off most likely to tell their friends, clarisse noticed aswell.

“Fuck.. let’s just get out of here” she muttered helping you off the table and walking towards the cabin. Your hands laced together as she dragged you through the woods, the occasional her yelling at one of her siblings that seemed to be going in the same direction.

Once in the cabin everything happened in small blurs that you could only semi remember. You sitting onto Clarisses bed, her Kissing you, You on her lap, your shirt on the ground and lastly where you currently were heavily making out with the daughter of ares while she grabbed at every inch of skin that she could.

Tangling your fingers into her curls you tilted your head, pressing your body closer if you could. Her tongue finding its self into your mouth while she helped shift you on her lap by your thighs.

Breaking away for a breath of air you kept your face close to hers. “Wanna like, hangout or something” she breathlessly panted.

“Sure” You mumbled quickly kissing her again.

••

Sitting up you rubbed your forehead, the after affects from the alcohol last night hitting you like a hurricane. Running a hand through your hair it took only a moment for you to realize that you in-fact were not in your bed.

Actually you weren’t even in your cabin. Looking around frantically you soon realized you were in the ares cabin, bringing your eyes down you saw clarisse peacefully sleeping with an arm on your waist.

With a slight frown you laid back letting out a deep sigh. Turning your head to the side you just watched as the normally angry girl was calm for once.

Not remembering exactly what happened last night bothered you some. But cuddling with clarisse was a worth it bargain.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

[teatoptony]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - p.j

summary; using your percy as a pillow.

pairing; percy jackson x demigod!reader

word count; 2.1k

warning(s); none, just fluff

a/n; sorry this took so long!! english isn’t my first language, so there might be a couple errors. it’s short, but hope you don’t mind, anon :) // takes place nowhere within canon in particular, but claiming happens really quickly

request(s); Hii! This is my first time requesting something EVER for anybody so that’s fun. Could you write prompt 6/ "You took all the pillows so i’m using you as one." Where Percy has all the pillows and reader decides to lay on his chest. Or the other way around, which ever is easier to write! Ty ty

Percy Jackson was the only demigod son of Poseidon. Therefore, he was the only occupant of Cabin Three at Camp Half-Blood.

However, if someone were to ask any of the campers, they would say that there were actually two people who lived in Cabin Three. One of those two people being, of course, Percy, and the other being you.

You and Percy were that couple in camp. You know that one couple that’s always hugging, holding hands, or touching each other in any way, shape, or form? Yeah, the two of you were that. He always had an arm around you, or held your hand in his. Sometimes, he snuck up and hugged you from behind while you were having a conversation or doing some other thing that required you to stand still in the same spot, often causing him to get an earful for surprising you or making the person you were talking with uncomfortable enough to leave.

Percy’s touchy demeanor only got worse when he was sleepy. While most decent boyfriends would offer to walk their girlfriends back to her place, Percy always dragged you away from the campfire singalong and straight into his cabin.

You were sure Chiron knew about this – after all, your boyfriend never really tried to sneak you off, and your half-siblings definitely knew you weren’t in your own bunk at night – but if he did, he tried his best to pretend that he didn’t. Whenever Percy got up from his seat at the campfire with you in tow, the centaur seemed to take a sudden interest in his hooves, or the grass, or his marshmallow that was already toasted to perfection in the fire.

And if Mr. D knew, he didn’t let on. He never really stuck around for the singalong after dinner, so you weren’t really sure if he ever saw the two of you. But he’s the camp director—he had to know something was up. You supposed the punishment for sleeping in another cabin involved too much paperwork to carry out. Either that, or the Mr. D simply knew that Percy would drag you to his cabin no matter the amount of times he had to wash the Camp’s dinner plates.

Percy was a big fan of cuddling. It helped him sleep—like actually sleep, without any dreams to bother him throughout the night. He joked that you were like his personal dose of melatonin, though he’d never taken any before, going so far as to gift you an ‘assorted berries’ flavored lip balm.

“Like the gummies,” he had explained, attacking your lips once you’d applied the makeup. You haven’t yet found the heart to tell him that taking melatonin could actually cause very vivid, extremely wild dreams.

You’d let him live his fantasy, for now.

Luckily for Percy, you were also a big cuddler, especially with him. While you weren't as open with PDA – Percy did more than enough of that for you both to get yourselves through the day – you rarely let go of your boyfriend when the two of you were alone, which he was extremely happy about.

The two of you always faced each other, laying on your sides. You would run your fingers through his hair, and he would hug you close while the two of you got so tangled up that you didn’t know which limbs were whose, bringing a much needed sense of domesticity to your hectic lives. In those moments, time seemed to stop, and the two of you were the only people in the world.

The only problem with these cuddle sessions was, Percy was a huge blanket hog.

Like, really huge.

When Percy started to drift off, it was like he'd been possessed by a pillows-and-blankets goblin or something. He rolled around on the bed, and when you're conscious enough to move over in order to avoid being completely flattened underneath him, he took the opportunity to take up all of your previous space, along with your pillow and around ninety-eight percent of the sheets.

You'd tried and failed numerous times to keep this from happening: tucking yourselves in extra tight, tiring him out as much as you could, all the things people on the internet claimed would keep someone from tossing and turning. Nothing had worked, hence, the oh-so-familiar predicament you constantly found yourself in. Again. And again. And again.

///

Today was another typical day. The only difference? It felt like about a week’s worth of work had been crammed into it.

At the crack of dawn, one of the protector satyrs brought three new campers to the hill. And, as luck would have it, it was your turn to show any new arrivals around. The three new half-bloods – all of them around ten or eleven years old – came to Percy’s cabin, led by one of your half-siblings. Four kids bursting through the door when the sun hadn’t even come up yet was not the best way to wake up.

After a quick change and a hasty kiss goodbye, you gave the newbies the full tour, from the lava climbing wall to the arts and crafts center to the canoeing lake. You were sure they were sweet kids most of the time, but in your sleepy and quite frankly grumpy state, all their chattering gave you a migraine. And that’s not even including all their Mythomagic questions.

“Does Athena really have two thousand attack points?”

“Can Eros really Charm his enemies with Love Shots?”

“Does Apollo really use volleyballs for his Ultimate?”

You wished you could’ve learned a couple basic things from Nico before he quit the game.

Once you got the three of them settled comfortably in their cabins, it was already too late for breakfast. Percy would have grabbed you something, but, being counselors, the both of you had classes to teach and errands to run that kept you apart. After a few hastily scribbled cabin inspections, you dropped them off at the Big House before heading off to teach Ancient Greek.

Your Ancient Greek lessons hadn’t gone that bad. A few kids’ dyslexia was acting up today, but you really couldn’t expect any less every other day. After the usual alphabet refresher for newer kids, you had the campers read a few Greek legends out loud, and the class was dismissed without a hitch.

Unfortunately, that was one of the very few times things went smoothly today.

Your second class was riding lessons. Two relatively new campers managed to offend one of the pegasi and ended up in the infirmary with a few nasty bruises—great, add that report to your stack of paperwork. And cleaning up afterwards was always the worst part. The pegasi liked you, really, but they couldn’t help that they couldn’t groom themselves, especially their wings. As for the pegasus that charged those two kids, you had to put him in the time-out cubicle to calm him down.

The thing about pegasi is, they prefer to roam around, and definitely do not appreciate being put in the time-out cubicle. You were glad you didn’t speak horse like Percy, because – judging by the amount of angry horse noises – you were pretty sure the pegasus thoroughly cussed you out.

Next task: canoeing with the naiads.

A few of the naiads claimed a canoe for themselves, and the kids each broke off into separate teams to take turns racing with the nymphs. A couple Hephaestus kids, determined to win for once, had designed a detachable motor to rig to their canoe—the naiads didn’t seem to mind, so you let them be. It exploded about halfway across the lake. No one got hurt, thankfully, but the canoe was no longer usable. You put the kids who’d built the motor on kitchen duty with the harpies for the rest of the week.

Lunchtime came around, but you were too busy to eat properly, grabbing a single piece of pizza before running off to prep a small section of the woods for a wilderness survival class one of the satyrs were supposed to teach. Apparently, he had fallen asleep and forgotten to prepare everything himself the night before, and you agreed to help him just to stop him from running around you in circles. Getting your feet stomped on by panicked goat hooves? Not so fun.

A couple more mildly disastrous activities and a small pile of reports later, it was time for your favorite routine—dinner, campfire, Cabin Three, and lots of cuddles à la Percy.

At the Dining Pavilion, you practically inhaled your food, as it was the first time you’d had a chance to get a full meal all day. After the void in your stomach had been taken care of, you dragged Percy to the campfire, where you claimed the best seat for roasting marshmallows. As usual, your boyfriend refused to sing a single note.

“Come on, just this one time?” You pleaded. The whole camp was singing The Campfire Song – the unofficial anthem of Camp Half-Blood – a song that the gods surprisingly didn’t take offense to. Singing complaints about your godly parentage was apparently received as a lighthearted joke. Judging by the unusually bright golden color of the flames, you were fairly certain Apollo even enjoyed it.

“You’re the only one here with Poseidon as a dad. We’re dying for you to rhyme something—you should see Cabin Seven, there’s this one part of the wall covered with post-it notes with bets on what you’ll sing. I saw a lyric comparing your dad to Marlin from Finding Nemo, once.” You said. Katie Gardner sang about how she’d gotten a fern in a mason jar for her sixteenth birthday. “I think there’s one for Nico, too, but that’s mostly just Will.”

“If I tried to sing, I’d probably cause an avalanche.” Percy laughed, and kissed you when you tried to say something else. He did that to shut you up sometimes. It was infuriating for sure, but you had to admit it was pretty damn effective.

“One day, Sharkboy,” you promised, giving him a determined grin before leaning in to kiss him again. A few of your siblings whooped in the background, for Katie or to tease you, you didn't know.

“Mm, we’ll see,” your boyfriend muttered, pulling you closer as Travis and Connor Stoll took up the mic.

A few more verses and a couple other songs later, you were back in Percy’s warm bed in Cabin Three. The air had that salty taste like the beach on a cool summer’s night, and the underwater plants and corals that Tyson had brought back from Poseidon’s palace took on a luminescent glow under the moonlight. Percy’s Minotaur horn glinted silver on the wall.

You were completely worn out from the day. Sure, it wasn’t as bad as going on a killer quest, but you were allowed to complain about and tire out from mundane things, too. Percy had to practically carry you from the campfire because you were already half asleep.

But as soon as Percy started to drift off – and therefore started to move towards you, and assemble his blanket burrito – your eyes flew open and you propped yourself up on the bed, effectively disentangling yourself from him. You heard him stir as he felt your warmth disappear.

“Y/N..” Percy whined, his voice gravelly with sleep, as he tried to grab you by the waist to pull you back to him. You swatted his hand away, and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. “What’re you doing?”

“Improvising.” You huffed. There was no way you were going to deal with ‘Percy the Pillow Pillager’ problems tonight. As much as you loved him, you were tired of practically hanging off the edge of the bed.

Putting your hands on one side of Percy’s premature blanket burrito, you rolled him back to his previous spot, making him lie on his back. You then disassembled the sheets to make some room for yourself underneath them. Percy happily let you cuddle into him again. But this time, you quite literally lay on top of him, draping your arm, leg and most of your torso over him and putting your head on his chest.

“You took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one,” you stated. “Stay. Put.” You poked him to emphasize each word and felt his chest rumble as he laughed.

“I will,” he promised.

“Mhm.”

You were skeptical, but you felt too warm and comfortable to care much. If you got tossed off the bed in the middle of the night, that was a future-you problem.

You felt Percy kiss the top of your head as you drifted into sleep.

#percy jackson #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson books #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x y/n #percy x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson fic #pjo x reader #pjo stuff #pjo fanfic

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part four

Yandere!Pjo × Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ words: 1k

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

You’d like to say you could understand everything that was happening but you had not even a small clue. You sat in the big house with your bag in hand while the two adults argue over you.

“I forbid her to leave, she’s not hera’s child,” you sink back while Mr.d points his finger at you, “she belongs here, with me.”

The god fought for you to stay with him, he kept you happy and feed, even made you smile. All for someone else to claim you? It made his blood boil and you could see it on his face as he shouts.

“She’s been claimed and even if we don’t understand, it is how things have to be.” Chiron sounded disappointed but stern. Of course he would stay up for you, like he always does. He hated for you to leave but you wanted so badly to leave them and have friends and he could understand.

“Mr.d,” you step forward to the god, “I’ll make you a promise.”

“And what’s that kid?” He hated how he spoke to you but he was just too heated that he could banish everyone kid from camp.

“I’ll come visit and play cards with you every week?” You try and bargain your time, even when the thoughts made your bones tighten at thinking of being stuck like that again.

He looked down at you with a suspicious glare while he thought it over. He didn’t have a choice but that didn’t mean he liked it. So finally he let out a breath and agreed while rushing off and mumbling under his breath.

The next stop you had was weirder.

The cabin was dark and empty. Cold and you could feel your spine shiver at the lack of heat. You glanced around but found no furniture to even sit on. No one was supposed to sleep here. Hera had no half-blood offsprings because unfaithfulness was not her way, and yet here you stand being claimed by her. And something tells you all the gods had something to do with it. Mr. D seemed to be more jealous when he spoke about the queen of gods. Like she was unworthy to have you.

“I suppose we’ll be needing to fetch some essentials for your new home.” Chiron tried to sound happy.

“Don’t worry,” you hold up your arms that carried pillows as far as you can with a reassuring smile, “I’ll survive.” and truth be told your bed was the one thing you would miss about staying there.

You find yourself walking up to the firepit and staring up at the statue of hera holding her staff. The way her eyes looked…you felt calm, but almost afraid of what it would be like to look in the real ones. She wasn’t someone to mess with while even her husband feared her wrath.

“So, Chiron?” You ask. You continue to stare up at the stone goddess. “Do you know why she claimed me.” there wasn’t much hope he’d share his insight. the centaur kept quiet for a second to consider his next words wisely.

“Just as clueless to me. Maybe we’ll get some information in the morning after a goodnight sleep.” Just as you thought. Not a peep from him.

You nod and turn around and place everything you had on the floor which wasn’t much but you were glad you had all you did. Chiron handed you the blankets with a smile on his face and for a minute it looked like he was going to cry while he looked at you.

So you open your arms wide and pull him into a hug, or what you could reach and he chuckles deeply and pats your head. In all his years you were his favorite to ever walk into this camp and to guide you. To him, camp was nothing without you.

You settled in quickly while unpacking what you could to make you feel at home. You had two blankets, one on the floor and pillows on top and the other over yourself. You tried to pick a place to the fire without burning up or being too cold.

And for the first time you were all alone to your own thoughts.

“Pst” a hushed whisper called out from no where. The voice startled you as you jump forward and grab ahold of the nearest thing, your old book.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a camper.” The voice had no body to go along with it making you confused. Was it one of Apollos children? Whoever they were they didn’t belong here.

“Says the person who stays hidden.”

The person in question lets out a laugh and then you see a figure appearing out of no where. A blue cap was the first thing you notice as they move their hand down with it grasped. A girl with a orange camp shirt, pretty eyes and blonde hair twisted into a braid.

“You grab a book to hurt me? Almost seems like you know me.” She smirked amusingly.

She had been watching you since you arrived at camp two years ago when she could, she grew to now you like no one else did. And now you’re out and into the camp with her she couldn’t let you walk without keeping a eye on you. You arrived with percy, another person she needed to watch so it was easy.

“What’s you name?” You ask the mysterious girl.

“Annabeth, consider me your guide from now on.” She walked further and stood above you. Her wicked smile seemed off just like everyone else you have seen.

“What cabin are you from? I heard some kids saying Apollos kids-” she cut you off by waving the hat in her hand.

“Athena.” You nod.

“And you’ll need me.” You tilted your head at her words and arched your brows. Need her? What was she talking about.

“For what? I mean I’m glad to have a friend but..” taking a deep breath as her eyes glint with something almost dangerous.

“For capture of the flag.”

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#yandere percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #yandere percabeth x reader #percy jackson x you #book Percy Jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #grover underwood x reader #yandere annabeth chase #yandere Grover underwood #yandere clarisses x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere Luke castellan x reader #yandere greek gods #yandere gods

[love-that-we-were-in]

indelible scars, pivotal marks

pairing: luke castellan x implied apollo!reader

summary: you might be the only person who actually knows luke castellan. you don't think anyone else is willing to try.

a/n: what if i told you i got yelled at a lot after writing this. enjoy! oh this is also my first x reader in the 5 years i've been writing who cheered. have fun !

Luke is fourteen the first time he can remember sleeping through the night. He’s barely been at Camp Half-Blood for three hours, skin still splotched purple and blue, Thalia’s yells echoing in his skull. There’s no silence, a steady hum of nature that’s leveled by the voices of people he doesn’t know, and he knows he shouldn’t sleep. They’ve lost Thalia, left her just beyond the borders of an unknown place, and it’s a risk to welcome the flimsy pillow they gave him. He does it anyway, eyes closing to the sound of Annabeth’s soft breaths. 

The respite lasts one night.

By morning, he’s recounted the last five years more than he ever wanted to. Annabeth clings to him then, a known comfort. She knows the broad strokes of the story, could recount them herself, but there’s gaps from before her time, and there’s things Thalia made him swear not to tell. If she notices, she doesn’t comment, just keeps her fingers close to her side. He knows that’s where she keeps her dagger - he wonders if Chiron can tell as well.

Chiron brings them to Thalia, explains what happened and how lucky it is. Luke looks at the tree, the first time Thalia has stood taller than him since they met - something she always swore she would do one day - and leans back against it as Annabeth sobs into his shoulder. 

Mr D sends Annabeth to the Athena cabin before lunch. Luke doesn’t need to be told to make his way to Cabin 11. He knows who his father is. His backpack is left at the base of a bed in the far corner of the room, a group of boys gathered around the area turning to watch him the second he walks in. They move away but they don’t stop their stares.

Sleep doesn’t come as easily to him that night.

*

You meet Luke Castellan when you’re fifteen, standing on the edge of the lake as a golden sun rises in the horizon. It’s your first morning at camp, your first morning admiring the sunrise in months, and you think you could find a home here. Within the hour, you’re sure the calm won’t be the same – too many kids in the same space, swords and satyrs and strawberries guiding the day along – but for now there’s sunlight. 

“Breakfast isn’t for two more hours,” someone says from behind you. It should be scarier than it is, put you on high alert with the way he creeps into the space without a sound. “Just in case someone forgot to mention that.”

He’s pretty. Strong chin, dark eyes. On most people you’ve met, that’s where pretty ends. Not him. There’s this way he stands in your periphery; comfortable in his worn camp t-shirt, like he was made to live in it, to have it define him for an eternity. Very few people are pretty in a way that speaks of forever.

“I like to watch the sunrise.” 

He hums. “I’m Luke.”

He waits, steps away, until you offer him a seat beside you on the grass. It was something you were told once, an eclectic art teacher draped in shawls and chunky jewelry, how the sun is only as beautiful as it is when shared with another. As Luke sits next to you, you enjoy the quiet you’re positive isn’t built to last.

*

Luke becomes a counselor that summer. Everyone saw it coming, the way he’s known to everyone and not just the Hermes kids. Whispers of a legacy, of a potential legend in the making, followed him already, two years at camp creating grand ideas for his future – counselor status just helps to further them. It’s not that big of a deal normally. It’s potentially defining when you’re the best swordsman in almost three hundred years.

You find him on his way back from the Big House that evening, heading in no particular direction but with a clear idea of where he doesn’t want to be. It’s something you’ve learnt to read in the last few weeks, the way Luke fluctuates. How he dips in and out of personas as if it’s possible to switch them out. It comes with renown, you suppose. 

“Counselor Castellan, is it?” 

He smiles something bitter. “So they tell me.”

Without hesitation, you take hold of his hand. It’s warmer than yours and you feel the difference in your bloodstream. Luke doesn’t look at you, doesn’t comment, and you lead him away from the cabins and down to the lake. 

There’s maybe an hour until sunset. You’re almost attuned to it now, mornings spent watching it with rapt attention. Luke normally joins you, sword dropped between you. Some mornings, the thud of metal onto stone is the only reason you know he’s arrived, still so silent in his arrival that you wonder if it’s on purpose. 

“Does it make you anxious?” You ask when the silence stretches on for too long, when Luke stares unblinkingly at the horizon for longer than he should. He blinks, irises shifting from a glassy bronze and back to muted brown as the film clears. “Did they even ask if it was something you wanted?” 

He scoffs and you wonder if this is where everything changes. Luke always has things he wants to say, balancing on the tip of his tongue until he figures out how to swallow them down and burn them. It’s like you can see it play out in real time, his jaw shifting, arm tensing.

“Mr D told me it was a great honor. Chiron told me it was long overdue.” 

“You weren’t given a chance to say no.”

It’s a pattern you’ve noticed, not just within camp but with all the Gods. Clarisse was sent a spear with no note, but everyone knew who had sent it. Annabeth’s hat was exactly the same. Gifts. All gifts. No receipts or return addresses provided. Life at camp was something to be grateful for, always, considering the alternative most of you had already been forced to live. To comment on it would make you an enemy of those too powerful to consider.

Looking at the tense set of Luke’s shoulders, you kind of want to say it anyway.

“I’m about to have all the glory Camp Half-Blood could offer me,” Luke says and the sun begins to dip below the surface of the lake. His palm is warm in yours again. “Why would I complain?”

*

There’s a flurry of new arrivals no one anticipated the next summer They come in pairs, mostly, with the odd trio. Always one unclaimed within the group. Always one who gets marched to Cabin 11 in the middle of the night, sometimes after hours of questioning.

You know the nights that it’s happened, taking in the way Luke’s movements are less sharp, the way he breathes more shallowly. A conservation of energy. It doesn’t affect you much until it does, the sharp sting of Luke’s sword on your arm as he loses his footing, turns too suddenly at the sound of your footsteps. 

“This is insane,” you say as you press your shirt into the cut. It’s not bad, something that will heal quickly and fade into nothingness, but Luke locks his gaze on the red dotting your skin as if he doesn’t understand how it got there. “They can’t keep waking you up in the middle of the night for this.”

“The only other place they can go is the med bay and none of them have been beaten up badly enough to be worth waking an Apollo kid.”

“I’ve seen some of the kids when they’ve gotten here, Luke,” you mutter, shirt hem dropping as the wound stops bleeding. You glance up at him. “They could do with being patched up.” 

He sinks down to the floor. You stay on your feet. “This is what I signed up for when I took the position.”

There’s this way Luke’s voice gets sometimes, sharp and low and just a little spiteful. A build-up of years with little mercy granted. That’s how it is now, speaking through clenched teeth, completely biting back the vitriol and pretending there’s no heat to his words. 

He’s always been pretty in the sunrise, from the day you met, but you think he might be prettiest right now – lying to himself more than he can lie to you in the moments before there’s any sunlight at all. When you would let darkness spill into itself, Luke forces light to filter in. If you caught him at the darkest hour, you wonder if that would remain.

Taking in the way he digs his nail into the fabric of his pants, you doubt even he would know how to stop himself then. 

*

You aren’t chosen for Luke’s quest. He finds you after the ceremony, face pulled taut and bag thrown over his shoulder already. There’s no regret in his eyes, no determination either. You stand straighter when you hear him approach, grateful that he cared enough not to take you by surprise for once. 

“Don’t be mad at me.” 

“Why would I be mad?” You say. It’s disingenuous to your own ears, the way it pitches, so you fold your arms across your chest. “Chris and Ethan will be great questmates. A band of brothers.”

Luke swallows. “Is that really what you think this is? That I wanted to make my quest a guys trip?”

“I don’t think anything of it, Luke.” 

In the middle of the day, you can see him clearest. See the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood the way everyone else does. In broad daylight, there’s few things more noticeable on Luke Castellan. The slope of his nose, the straightness of his back, the comfortable weight of his sword on his hip – almost a tether to who he proclaims himself to be. It’s your least favorite version of him.

“I would’ve chosen you. In a heartbeat, I would’ve chosen you,” he says, brown eyes shifting from dim to desperate in moments. A plea to be heard. You know you’re the only one to ever truly listen when he speaks.

“Doesn’t really seem that way.”

“I just needed a reason to come back when it’s over.”

It stills the air around you. The words tangle themselves together in your brain, drown out the archers in the distance, the birds overhead. They echo and twist and they maintain their tone, the low pitch Luke uses when he’s decided to say something he doesn’t want to be heard. They bury themselves in the corner with the other times he’s used it, forever ingrained, and you don’t know what to make of them. How to define them at all.

He waits, gaze firm, until you nod slightly. You keep your chin low, determined to give little satisfaction to the situation. To Hermes giving Luke a reused quest, to the possibility of losing him because you aren’t there. It curdles deep in your gut, refusing to remain unknown.

There’s a moment where Luke hesitates, his hand twitching slightly, arm moving minutely higher from where it hangs down by his waist. Instead, his fist clenches and he exhales long and low. 

“Promise to be here when I get back?” 

“I’ll be really annoyed if you’re not the one knocking on my cabin door.”

He turns back to face you after he joins Chris and Ethan at the border. They’re all capable, with a history of working together. They’ll succeed, return to praise and glory and everything they deserve to have. The sun beats down on Luke as he nods goodbye and you wonder if it shines on anyone else at all.

*

The scar becomes a part of him. 

It fades into his skin with time, going from raised and rotten to a streak of pale across his cheek. You overhear some of the Ares kids praising it as symbolic of his win, a prize of sorts, and some of the Aphrodite kids saying it makes him more appealing, makes him look stronger. You’re not sure what you think of it, tracing it with gentle fingers as it heals. 

It becomes a habit, running a knuckle down Luke’s cheek each morning. Feeling where the skin tied itself back together. He never comments. You want to ask if he minds, that you’ll stop if it’s too much. The first few times you did it, in the days right after his return, he had flinched, features pinching together. Your hand had dropped, all too aware of the matted skin, how it probably still ached but Luke had taken your hand and placed it back where it had been. 

His scar becomes a statement, a badge of skill that everyone at camp can recognise. There had been little debate on the truth of his swordsmanship before but now it hardly existed, undeniable proof the first thing people noticed when introduced to him. 

Most people don’t bother to ask Luke about it. Percy Jackson isn’t most people.

“You got attacked by a dragon?” 

It’s the first time in years that anyone has joined you and Luke at the lake this early. Annabeth used to, on the rare occasions the worst of her nightmares returned. It’s different with Percy, like being close to the water rewires him completely. It makes sense days later when you watch him push open the door to the empty Cabin 3.

“Last year,” Luke hums, one hand resting softly in yours and the other keeping a loose grip on the sword handle in his lap. Percy had wanted to see him in action after hearing the stories, so you’d both obliged. “I made a wrong call and I paid for it.”

“At least it looks pretty cool.” 

The way Percy says it is different to everyone else. It’s not ingrained with this odd lust, whether for adventure or the story or Luke himself. It’s more muted, a fact of life. He’s not saying it to make anyone feel better – he’s saying it to disregard. A scar is just a scar to Percy Jackson, as if he’s known too many to care.

“I guess it kind of is,” Luke says and the three of you listen to the morning begin.

#🖋️ abi writes… #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Part One Part Two.

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

#percy jackson #percy jackson tv show #luke castellan #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo tv show #pjo show luke #pjo tv series #pjo series #percy jackson tv series #pjo luke #more angst <3 #hope you enjoy this #requests open #wish you were sober #conan gray song #song fic

[mediumgayitalian]

“You ready, Lou?”

“Duh.”

“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”

“Yep.”

“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”

“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”

“Then I think we’re a go.”

“Gods, this is going to be great.”

———

Knockknockknock.

Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.

Knockknockknock.

“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.

Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.

Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”

She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.

“Chiron is leaving,” she says.

Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”

“With Mr. D. To some conference.”

“I heard.”

“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He left me in charge.”

“Probably wise.”

“I need an allegiance, Nico.”

“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”

She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”

Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.

(…And Will. Maybe.)

“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”

“…Lurk?”

“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”

“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”

“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”

“See ya!”

He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.

The next twenty four hours are going to rock.

———

“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”

“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”

“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”

“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”

———

Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.

“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”

“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.

“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”

With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.

“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”

Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.

“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.

Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.

———

“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”

“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”

“I hate both of you.”

———

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.

Then again.

It is camp.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.

“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

Caught.

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid.”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding dawns on her quickly.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

———

“Is he still looking?”

“No.”

“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”

———

Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.

He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)

For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.

“Neeks? Where’re you going?”

Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?

“Nico? You good, babes?”

He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.

“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”

“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.

For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.

And that is not all.

For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.

“What are you doing?”

“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”

Will and Reika exchange a look.

“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”

Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.

“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”

“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”

“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”

Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”

Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?

“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”

“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”

“Bleh bleh bleh.”

Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.

“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.

Coffee cake, save him.

———

“It’s not looking good, Katara —”

“I actually like that one.”

“— he’s totally onto us.”

“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”

———

To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.

As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.

Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.

Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.

It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.

Excellent.

“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”

“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.

“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”

Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

That gives her pause.

That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.

“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.

Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”

“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”

“Hey!”

“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”

Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.

“Does that settle things?” he demands.

Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.

The camp erupts.

Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.

“Just — everybody quiet!”

It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.

“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”

Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.

“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”

“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”

The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?

“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”

“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”

Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”

“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”

“Yeah, but camp-wide…”

“Could still be possible.”

“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”

It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.

Like they’re believing this shit.

Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.

“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”

That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”

“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.

But his aura.

The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.

Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.

He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.

If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.

———

next

#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did. #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #established solangelo #will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone #annabeth chase #nico di angelo & annabeth chase #my writing #fic #longpost

[evermoresqueiswriting]

dance the night

"Baby, you can find me under the lights Diamonds under my eyes Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just Come along for the ride? Oh, my outfit so tight You can see my heartbeat tonight I can take the heat, baby, best believe That's the moment I shine"

summary: barbie date and an invitation from clarisse you can't refuse

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

tags: fluff fluff fluff

series masterlist 2/?

You were getting more and more comfortable at camp. You were getting along very well with your siblings. Especially Lee and Cornelia, who explained everything – sometimes twice – to you. They also explained to you that if you wanted to leave camp during the summer, you needed to get an authorisation from Mr. D. And Clarisse knew, so she told you to get it since it was your idea to go see that movie. Your siblings told you he rarely gave them away. 

“Mmh. I accept this challenge.”

“It really wasn’t,” Lee said. “It was a piece of information at best.”

You walked, determined, to Mr. D’s office. You didn’t have many arguments, but Cornelia did tell you Mr. D was always looking for campers to give him alcohol even though his father, Zeus, forbade him to drink any. Mr. D was playing cards with Chiron. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, you hesitated before Chiron looked up.

“Yes?” he said, putting his cards down. 

“Mmh,” you froze before staring at your camp director, “I needed to talk to Mr. D, please.”

Chiron turned his face to look at Mr D, and he took off his sunglasses before looking at you.

“What?”

“I need authorisation to leave camp for one day,” you explained firmly. “Please.”

“And why would I give you that?” 

“Because I need it. For next week, the 21st,” you begged.

Mr D stared at you, bored. He was ready to take back his cards, when you shouted, desperately.

“I–I’ll give you alcohol in exchange!” 

“No you will not!” Chiron gave you a hard stare. “Zeus–.”

“I’m desperate, so yes I will.” 

Mr D was still silent. 

“What is this about y/n?” Chiron asked. “Why do you need to leave camp?”

“I– I asked Clarisse on a date. Well,” you faltered. “It’s not exactly a date I don’t think, it’s more like I won a bet, and what I asked for was for us to go see a movie together. So maybe it is? And it would suck for me if I can’t go, when I won the bet you know.”

Chiron and you were both looking at Mr. D, and you had your best puppy eyes for him.

“Still a no for me,” Mr. D took his cards. 

“Please, please, please, please, please!” 

Mr. D shook his head. You sighed, thinking about what to say to try and convince him to let you go. 

“That’s–,” you hesitated before blurting out “such a homophobic thing to do in 2024 to refuse to let us go on a date! Which is what that is… a date, with us girls.”

“What?” Mr. D muttered confused.

“And during pride month? You have no shame. It’s–.”

“Fine, if I give you this authorisation, will you shut up and leave?”

You nodded vigorously. And Mr. D sent you a  flying paper with the snap of a finger, and after reading the paper to make sure it was legit – which did take a few minutes – you ran away in case he changed his mind. The first person you ran into Luke and asked him if he had seen Clarisse. He pointed at the Ares cabin, and told you he saw her go in. 

You walked to her cabin, and knocked, shouting Clarisse’s name over and over again. The door flew open, revealing an annoyed Clarisse.

“Hi,” you smiled. 

Her face softened slightly at your sight, but she still looked at you annoyed, with her arms crossed. 

“What?”

“Guess what?” your hands were in your back, hiding away the piece of paper you got earlier.

“Your boyfriend called your mom to ask her why you ditched him?” 

“What?” you hesitated. “No. First, I don't have a boyfriend, they were all losers in my school. And no girlfriends either for the same reason.”

“Good,” she nodded. “So what was the news then?”

The paper was still held behind your back, you held her gaze a few more seconds before showing her proudly the paper. She looked at the paper, frowning, and then took your paper. You stood there patiently, swinging on your feet, waiting for her to finish reading it at her own pace. 

“How did you get Mr. D to agree to this?” she puts the paper down. 

“It’s a secret. But I’ll tell you if you want to know.”

“Of course I do, no one here in years got one of these,” she shook the paper in front of you. 

You held up your index, and made a ‘come closer’ motion with it. She came closer, and you put your face even closer, her nose almost touching yours. Clarisse was taller than you – taller than most campers actually – and your face was facing up. And having her this close to you, it was as if time had stopped. You smiled. 

“I promised him alcohol,” you whispered. 

“What!” she stepped back. “Do you know Zeus–.”

“I know, I know, Cornelia told me. I don’t remember what I said after that,’ you lied, “I guess he just likes me.”

“Okay,” Clarisse smiled, “liar.”

Clarisse and you stood there, at the threshold of the Ares cabin for a few more moments, just enjoying each other's company before her siblings ran in, pushing you toward Clarisse. Your  body slammed against hers, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to steady you. You would have been upset if it weren’t for the outcome. But Clarisse quickly let go before grabbing the shirt of her brother – Mark – and made him stop in his tracks. You didn’t hear what she said, but you saw Mark nodding vigorously before walking away. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Clarisse grabbed your arm and led you outside. 

“So,” you started when she stopped under a tree and sat there. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“No. Do you?”

“Uh obviously! I have the perfect outfit for Barbie. I actually planned this before coming here, minus the ‘going to camp half-blood’ cause I didn’t think I’d end up here. It’s all pink, and cute and oh, should I also do my nails? Should we do our nails all pink?” you beamed at the idea.

“No.”

“True, yours do look very good in black,” you nodded. “Oh, we could cosplay Barbie and Raquelle. But it’s not going to be accurate, Raquelle hates Barbie.”

“I think it’s pretty accurate,” she shrugs. 

You slapped her arms playfully before laying your head on her lap. The weather was nice, the sun was out and the leaves were shading you from it, the perfect combination for you to take a nap. And then Clarisse started to run her fingers on your arm which made it for you. You were asleep in no time.

“Wake up sunshine,” Clarisse pinched you lightly on the hip. You jerked awake. 

“What?” you mumbled, standing up. 

“I have to meet up with my brothers and sisters for the next Capture the Flag strategy.”

“Can I come too?” you yawned. 

“We’re not on the same team, remember.”

“I won’t tell them anything.”

“Nope,” she walked away, “don’t follow me,” she turned around, walking backwards. 

I’d follow you everywhere you go Clarisse La Rue. 

“I won’t,” you said instead. 

The night before the date, you laid out your outfit neatly before washing up to go to bed. Cornelia was your bunkmate, with the bed above yours. But before going to sleep, you loved updating each other’s day. 

“So tomorrow huh,” Cornelia sat on your bed. “I never thought I’d live to see Clarisse being friendly with anyone other than her siblings.”

“I think she’s funny.”

“Sure, if funny was a synonym of mean. Wait– do you even have money to spend on tomorrow’s activities?” 

“Actually I do. Mr. D did tell me he wouldn’t give me any, and thank gods I found a load of cash in my backpack. My mom gave it to me. I mean she did write it was for any expense that I would have to make on my way home, but I have other priorities.”

“Clearly,” she rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re gonna regret this in August.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Like before any exciting day, it took some time to fall asleep. Anxiety and excitement mixing together, making up the worst and best scenarios. What if Clarisse is just messing with you and forgot? That can’t happen, you just saw her a few hours ago talking about it. What if you annoyed her so much with it, she’d stood you up? What if she doesn’t like everything you planned? Not a single positive and happy ‘what if’ comes to your mind. 

“Wake up!” someone shakes you awake. “It’s 8 already, you're going to be late!” Cornelia said. 

“Fuck!” you ran to the washroom. 

You rushed through your routine, before rushing back to your bed and grabbed your outfit, and put it on. And all of that only took 28 minutes. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a final check up, before opening the door. Clarisse was already there. Her curls free, just like the first time you saw her. It felt weird not seeing her in her usual orange tee, but she still looked pretty. She wore a simple short brown tank top with blue faded jeans, with her beaded necklace still hanging from her neck.

“You look really pretty today,” Clarisse smiled shyly, holding her arms around her.

“Thanks,” you approached her, putting your hands on her arms and leaned in, “you look pretty every day.”

“Don’t come home too late,” Lee interrupted, appearing just next to you. 

“Don’t worry, but also don’t wait up!” 

You grabbed Clarisse’s hand and dragged her away from your cabin. A taxi was waiting for you outside of the camp, and in no time you were at the local theatre in the middle of nowhere. And lucky for you, the people of this town weren’t going to see the 9:30am slot for Barbie. Except for that one couple sitting in the back. You dragged Clarisse in the middle, and sat with the popcorn and sodas. You ate in silence, watching the trailers. 

Well that was not fun. The worst ‘what ifs’ from last night came back immediately making you anxious. It was not supposed to be like this. What if she wasn’t enjoying herself. What if she was mad because she ate a salty popcorn when you asked for the sweet ones. What if she was disappointed—

“Ouch,” you looked at her, frowning, rubbing your arm. “Why did you do that?”

“You were ignoring me.”

“What? Oh I– I didn’t hear sorry.”

“I asked you, what’s the deal with Barbie anyway? Why are you so excited about a blonde, white, plastic doll?”

“W– Barbie is not– ok. She is a plastic doll, and she may not look like us but it’s the idea of Barbie, the idea that us women can be anything we want. And how in Barbie Land, it’s all about girls and women being able to be whoever they want, and have whatever jobs they want. Barbie is literally a doctor, a pilot, a model, a chef, a fashion designer, a business woman, a teacher – she has every job in the world. And there is no one telling her that she can’t do that because she’s not a man. And also, the Barbie franchise is my childhood. The movies, they deserve an Oscar honestly–,” you stopped. “Sorry, I talk too much.”

“I asked,” her attention went back to the screen. “So did you have any barbies?”

“Of course! I had Barbie's dreamhouse, and so many barbies and outfits. I’m surprised I didn’t end up being a writer with all my imagination. Did you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“My mom wasn’t the kind to buy me anything. And certainly not dolls.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t feel sad for me, I’m fine,” she gave you a quick glance.

“I’m not!” you frowned. “So you never watched Barbie and A Christmas Carol? The best Barbie movie ever?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, we have to change that. Mmh. But phones and laptops aren’t allowed though… Maybe if I bring my mom’s DVD player next summer.” 

“Already planning on your next move to woo me?” she teased, approaching you. 

Your eyes widened, your cheeks were hot.

“I– No! I– I– I don’t.”

“Relax sunshine, I’m kidding,” she laughed. 

And just then, the lights went out and the movie was about to start, thank the gods. Because you did not know what to say. The movie was incredible, you shed a few tears at the end, and sang Dance The Night with Clarisse laughing and cheering you on. It was a great experience, and it was even better to have watched it with Clarisse. 

“Did you like it?” you asked her when the credits started rolling.

“Yes. It was great.”

“And you’ll love the other Barbie movies because they are way less depressing.”

“So, what’s next?” she stood up.

“It’s almost time to eat, what do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“No you choose, I insist,” you smiled.

Really you were just very indecisive. Clarisse settled for a burger place not too far away from the cinema. There weren't many people inside, so you were able to choose where to sit – a table next to the window. It was a booth seat, so you had your own booth each, facing each other, menu in hand. 

“So, what are you choosing?” you asked her.

“I’ll take the Highwayman. You?”

“The Roadhouse looks good.”

Clarisse raised her hand and weaved at the waitress, when you grabbed her hand. 

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Can you order for me please?”

She furrowed her brow, but nodded. You smiled. You only waited ten-or-so minutes before the waitress came back with your food. Like always, you checked the inside of your burger before eating it, you picked out the onions and the tomato. 

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t like these.”

“Couldn’t you have asked the waitress to take them out.”

“No…”

“Give me your tomato then,” she opened her burger bun.

You were the one entertaining lunch. Clarisse asked questions about your life and you told her – you told her stories about your childhood, your school, your mom and she listened, nodding along. Once you were done, you took a cab and decided to go to the mall. 

“We don’t have any money,” Clarisse stopped you when you were going to step into the mall. 

“I do. Remember I paid for the tickets, and the food.”

“Yeah, but I thought you only had enough for these.”

“Nope. Well, remember how I said my mom is an opera singer. It was you fifty percent talent and fifty percent nepotism and generational wealth. Meaning I’m rich, I mean my mom but her love language is sending me money for not raising me,” you joked.

She stared at you, concerned. 

“I’m kidding,” you grabbed her hand, “let’s shop.”

Clarisse refused to accept anything you’d set eyes on for her. 

“Well, at least try on some of them, just to see.”

She agreed to it, which was a mistake because now that you knew her size, you could buy her everything she laid eyes on. She was trying on this dark green simple long sleeve tee shirt, and after she put it back, you took it with you.

“What are you doing?” she tried to grab the tee shirt back. 

“I might want it for myself!” you hid it behind your back. 

‘Doesn’t look like something you’d wear.”

“My style changes, it depends on my mood. Maybe I want us to have matching clothes.”

“Then why is there only one in your hand?”

You quickly grabbed another one. And then it was settled. You’d buy her things and then another copy for you – everything went, from boots to tee shirts to pants, and jackets. Then you went to a jewellery shop. You needed new rings because yours flew away from your hands during the last Capture the Flag – they were obviously a tad too big. 

“Did you find anything you like?” you asked her. 

“No, they aren't the most useful things to have.”

You pouted, and threw a bunch on the table. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting these back on the shelves, cause I chose half of these for you,” you sighed dramatically. 

“Oh,” she took a look at the jewellery. 

Various rings and bracelets.

“They’re great, I love them.”

“No you don’t.”

“You picked them out so yes, I do.”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine,” you sighed. 

“Maybe you don’t have to buy all of it, just one of each.”

You nodded, and picked one ring for her, and two bracelets for each of you. You gave them to the seller to wrap them and left to look at other items. Clarisse soon joined you and soon enough the seller gave a little bag, you paid and left. Your hands were full of shopping bags, and before leaving you needed a little bit of rest so you two sat on the chairs in the resting area. Thankfully the mall wasn’t too crowded as it was still early in the afternoon on a random Tuesday. 

“Huh!” you gasped pointing at something behind Clarisse.

“What?” she turned around swiftly, not seeing any threat. 

“A photobooth!” you smiled.

You stood up, grabbed all of your bags and walked to the booth, hoping Clarisse was following you. You turned around, and Clarisse was still sitting still, legs crossed, leaned into the chair, staring at you. You held your hands together, and motionned her to come. She didn’t move for a good minute, but seeing how you weren’t going to move, she caved in and stood up. 

“Sunshine,” she put her hands on your shoulders, “you can look at me for free, I won’t charge you, don’t worry.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling. 

“You’ll thank me in a few years because of this. Pictures are the best kind of souvenirs.”

Clarisse got in first, the space was a tight fit, and you were glued to Clarisse, but you two fit in the frame so it was good. You put the coins inside, and waited for it to take the picture. But that was not good enough for Clarisse – she put her arm around your waist and scooped you onto her lap.

“Better?” 

You nodded, staring at her. 

“Better,” you confirmed. 

You went to take a pose but too late, the four pictures were already taken. 

“It’s fine, we’ll take another one.”

Another turned into another few more and you ended with a ton of pictures. By the time you left the mall it was already pretty late. Almost time to go home. But neither of you wanted that, so you went to the beach instead – main beach in the east. It was empty – people at this hour were all eating. You two sat on the sand, far from the shore. 

“Did you have a great time?” you asked.

“Yes,” she looked at you, “did you?”

You nodded enthusiastically. 

“Aren’t you glad you lost that bet against me?”

“Mmh,” she shrugged, “my option would’ve been just as good for me.”

“Well, I am glad I won. I prefer this option much better.”

Clarisse started to lay down but you grabbed her arm. 

“Sand will get in your hair.”

“I’ll wash it tonight, it’s fine.”

You shook your head, and took off your blouse and laid it on the sand, behind Clarisse. She tried to protest, but you were quicker. 

“I don’t want this day to end,” you admitted, staring at the waves. “I don’t think Mr. D will give us another authorisation anytime soon,” you laughed. 

Clarisse stared at you, not saying anything. You arrived at camp only a week ago, and yet you two were already closer than she was with any of her siblings. You were nice to her, always rooting for her, and you were a great friend. Not many people were these things to the Ares kids. 

“There this field trip around October,” Clarisse sat up again, “I suppose you’re not staying around the whole year. But it’d be great if you could come.”

“A field trip? To where?”

“It’s something we do once a year at camp,” she explained. “A trip to Olympus.”

You thought about it. 

“Are you asking me to meet your father? I didn’t think we were already at this stage so early on."

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