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#luke castellan comfort
supercutszns · 4 months
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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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hclymoonsblog · 2 months
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Memory Arc
GN!Child of Aphrodite x Luke Castellan
Author’s note : I imagined the reader as female but could also be read as gender neutral. Listened to Memory Arc from Rivale Consoles as I wrote.
Warnings : Angst to comfort, with a bit of fluff at the end. Mentions of self-isolation, self-deprecation, nostalgia, fear of death, smoking, acne breakouts, implicit depression from the reader, Luke is insensitive but makes up for it. 
The Aphrodite cabin was awfully quiet. It had been for a while, considering all of your step-siblings had, once again, failed at the tedious task of getting you to attend the nightly campfire. 
It wasn’t their fault, really. But there was no try. Putting on a face and trying to maintain somewhat a form of social life among your peers had been the very least of your concerns. They knew it, and so did you, which is why assuring them that spending your evening listening to music, dining off a few snacks and enjoying silence was perfectly fine with you, had been enough to get them to go. The cabin residents had eventually agreed to leave you on your own, abandoning you to your chosen isolation. 
And, indeed, that’s precisely what was happening. Faint Lana Del Rey was playing in the room – Thunder, the unreleased version, to be exact. You could have recognized the song among a thousand, thanks to its distinct first notes and the familiar grain of the device it was being played on: the mp3 Luke had stolen for you about a year ago, when you first arrived at camp. 
A wave of nostalgia hit you as the boy crossed your mind. You mindlessly inspected the small, grey box, letting your manicured nails trace over the small stickers glued onto the metallic surface. He had never outwardly expressed where he got it from, nor why he chose to gift it to you, among all people. 
You remembered the moment vividly.
***
This was on your second day at camp, at breakfast. You had barely slept, plagued by distressing nightmares all revolving around the implication of being the child of a literal god — or goddess, you weren't sure. It all seemed too surreal to you, and the fact you hadn’t been claimed yet wasn’t helping with it either. Luke Castellan, for some reason, happened to be sitting right next to you at the Hermes table, which welcomed unclaimed children like you, as Mr. D had said in a way that you guessed to be willing to remind you you didn’t belong. Hopefully, that wouldn’t last for long. The thought made you frown unconsciously.
The camp counselor had observed you fiddle with your food for a while, almost thoughtfully. Without a word, he pulled a small object out of his pocket and handed it to you.
“You talk in your sleep.” He commented, giving little to no context regarding his gesture.
Your eyes went from the item, to Luke, to the item again, not moving an inch.
The lack of sleep, combined with all of the information you had to interiorise, made you glare at the box both with curiosity and suspicion, waiting for him to elaborate. Was this another unknown, mystic artefact to, magically, grant you a dreamless sleep?
He blinked, staring back at your emotionless eyes from the insomnia, and cleared his throat awkwardly.
“This, is a mp3,” He explained, gesturing to the small screen and the music note on the back of the device, maintaining the eye contact between the two of you, as if it was trying to get his point across. “You can download songs, and, y’know, listen to music with it.”
“I know what a mp3 is.” You cut him a bit defensively, your cheeks flushing a bit from the slight embarrassment. 
To punctuate your sentence, you pressed a button to switch it on, in order to let him know you actually had owned a similar thing in the past, back when things were still normal for you. Why was this guy showing you off his mp3, anyways?
“I’m sure you do.” The slight mocking tone and the faintest smirk you detected onto Luke’s lips left you questioning the whole point of the conversation. 
Conveniently, the look on your face must have told Luke everything he needed to know as he picked up the conversation. “I thought this might help you relax. Take your mind off things, and, hopefully, make you feel a bit more at home, with songs you like.” 
Your eyes softened. The slight irritation you were feeling towards him evaporated from your body. His friendly gesture had taken you aback, and in a good way. The mp3 may have been in a questionable state, the fact the boy — which was just as much of a stranger than you were to him — had tried to make you feel good, and therefore, welcomed in your new place, was touching.
“… Thank you.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” Luke’s whole face brightened. An unfamiliar warmth spread across your chest. He ran a hand through his dark curls, looking to the side for a split second.
“How did you get that, though? I didn’t know there was a mystery Apple Store at camp.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I stumbled upon it.”
***
Unexpected was the word. Nevertheless, you had truly appreciated the friendly gesture. He had been the first person to act kindly towards you ever since your arrival – at least, not in a way that felt exaggeratingly forced, unlike some other camp residents. You could say this present had sealed the beginning of your friendship. As you stared at it, it left you reflecting onto the day you first met Luke and wondering about where the two of you stood. 
Soon enough, you had no choice but to face the harsh reality of things, which led you inevitably into spiralling into your thoughts.
The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation in months. You didn’t spar together anymore, neither did you share the mp3 he had gifted you, one earbud each, to make him listen to music he claimed to hate — a supposed disdain which had never prevented him from singing, quite awfully, the lyrics along with you. 
You didn’t sit next to one another anymore, didn’t hang out anymore. All of that was quite simply gone.
You had to content yourself of occasional, fleeting from across the hall, nods of acknowledgment. 
People had noticed. They came up to you, asked you about him, probably as much as they asked him about you. 
Of course, you knew. Deep down, you knew why it all went down. 
It is an obligation for demigods to demonstrate constant, unwavering strength and courage. For all you knew, those two had never been qualities that you particularly lacked. 
But when it came to the dark haired boy, it seemed like all the traits you thought you owned came crashing down, and you were left bare, defenseless, while he could see right through your soul.
And you hated that. You thought befriending — though the verb doesn’t quite fit — the best swordsman in camp would help you get rid of the weakness Aphrodite children tend to be associated with. But, truly, it had in fact only been the opposite.
Your barriers all came undone, without fail, one after the other. Your heart only grew fonder, more passionate. And yet, one thing you learned the hard way about being a demigod, is that there is no room for weakness. 
You knew you wouldn’t be capable of balancing both courage and attachment, so the only option left was to flee, to disengage yourself from such a bond, before it was too late. 
Once you got back from your first ever quest, the one in which you almost got violently murdered by a giant scorpion and a bunch of other terrifying creatures, the one which sent you into a concerning amount of sleepless nights, you were convinced of it. 
You wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of forcing yourself through this life without him.
You had believed, foolishly, your avoidance would make things easier.
The truth is that it had only made you feel more heartachingly miserable.
Time had flown by, and despite all your efforts, Luke was still the first thing you thought of when you woke up and the last thing on your mind when you went off to sleep.
For a daughter of Aphrodite, you sure sucked at love. 
The irony of it all left a bitter taste in your mouth.
This was why listening to Lana, despite the affection you held for her, was so dangerous. It always sent you into an uncontrollable overload of emotions.
Fully intending to get rid of the sadness wave before it fully hit you, you stood up from your bed and switched off the device before carefully putting it away in a drawer.
Then, you picked up a pink hoodie, not sure what step-sibling you were borrowing it from, and carelessly put it on. 
As much as you loved the tenth cabin and its coquette aesthetic, you weren’t really feeling that coquette at the moment, which is precisely the reason why you got on your knees in order to grab the pack of Malboro’s carefully hidden under your bed. 
You were glad any of your step-siblings hadn’t picked up on the fact you were smoking, or you would not have ever stopped hearing about it. You could already hear Silena lecturing you about the effect it would have on your lungs, or worse, on your skin. 
Surely the Silena you were imagining in your head was right, though. The frequent smoking, which had been intensifying lately, could explain why you had been breaking out a bit more than usual. 
Thankfully, the perks of being part of the Aphrodite cabin always involved somebody always being kind enough to help the other with spots coverage, so it hadn’t been much of an issue to you. Ever since, you had been perfectly capable of doing it on your own.
You walked out the wooden cabin, shutting the door behind you with a barely audible creak. Immediately met with the cool air, goosebumps erupted on your skin. Maybe cotton shorts weren’t the move for such weather, after all. Too bad. You felt like you had gone through worse — you were more than capable of fighting off the not-so-warm spring evening air. 
It was dark. The moon was your only source of light, since you hadn’t thought about picking up a flashlight before leaving, but that was quite good enough already. Your legs were always bringing you to the precise spot in camp you had in mind, and as you walked, you were straying further away from the woods. 
As tall grass tickled your ankles, you silently prayed to your mother you wouldn’t stumble onto any harpy. The thought still emitted a dry chuckle from you, picturing the creature interrupting your smoking break in the middle of the night. If things went shit, you could always try to charmspeak them away. That would be, in fact, surprisingly entertaining.
Harpies rarely roamed around the beach. That was a reassuring thought to you — firstly because you weren’t too keen on the idea of fighting a monster so late at night, and secondly because that’s precisely where you were heading.
Before you knew it, the smell of salt had invaded your nostrils. The crisp touch of the sand underneath your feet made you shiver as you made your way to the shore, intending to sit down for a while — and enjoy your well-deserved cigarette. 
You put your hand down and shoved it in your pocket, instinctively expecting to get a hold of the familiar surface of your lighter. It was even more unexpected to realize there was no lighter to be found, sending your brain into a haze. The possibilities were endless. You could have either forgotten it in the cabin, accidentally dropped it into the tall grass as you were walking, or dropped it somewhere among the sand–
“Looking for something?”
You spinned around, eyes widening, looking up at the person the masculine voice belonged to.
Luke Castellan. Standing in front of you, holding the silver lighter, but not quite handing it to you. You got a weird sense of deja vu as you both scrutinized the other. 
His hair had definitely grown. The dark curls were more defined than you remembered them to be, and there was a new scar down the sight of his face. The sight made you raise a brow, and you met his eyes once again, examining them as much as the distance allowed you to. As a matter of fact, they looked pretty much the same, except for the lack of emotion. They looked weirdly bland, almost glacial, full of indifference. You weren’t used to him looking at you in such a manner.
“Thank you. I must have dropped it earlier.” You explained, trying your best to keep your voice neutral, hoping he would simply give you the object back, so you could both escape the awkward situation. You didn’t believe for a second he had accidentally found it and magically brought it to you at such a late hour of the night. You didn’t feel like confronting him about it anyways.
“I didn’t know you smoked.” Luke stated, letting his deft fingers trace over the small object. Then, he lit it, as if he were checking if it did work. Was there a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice or had you imagined it? You were unsure.
“Happens, from time to time.”
The dry chuckle your ex-friend let out only left you made you grow more confused about whatever was happening. You were left with an uneasy feeling in the chest.
“Sure. Then, I guess you haven’t bought, like, three packs from Connor in less than a week.”
“It soothes me!” You defended yourself, feeling small under his disapproving glare. “Why do you keep records of who he sells cigs to, anyways?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you try to get into meditation, or some yoga shit, detox tea, guided hypnosis from Cabin 15, or anything else, really, for all I care? Why’d you have to destroy your health for some temporary relief?” The dark-haired boy snapped back, gradually rising in temper.
“I don’t know, maybe because, unless you haven’t noticed during all the years you’ve been stuck at camp, there’s not much to cope with here?” You mirrored his voice, hastily getting up from the small pile of sand you were sitting on.
“Oh, all right then, I get it.” He threw his arms in the air as he spoke, his brown eyes flashing in anger. “You’re a little depressed, but there’s no psychiatrist available here to help you fix your issues, so you choose to ignore the hell out of me and throw your health out the window instead. Real smart choice.”
Your mouth opened in shock, and before you knew it, your vision was blurred from the tears building up in your eyes. You felt your heart twist painfully in your chest at his insensitive words, and you choked back a sob.
“Why would it matter if I fuck up my health, wether that be to me, or to you? (You had to pause to catch your breath, your chest heaving up and down from the mix of negative emotions invading your body.) “I’ll be dead in no more than ten years, maybe less— We’ll all be.” You inhaled, your voice cracking at the end of your sentence. “You know it.”
His brown eyes widened. Your two last sentences seemed to take out the anger out of his body, leaving the two of you in a heavy kind of silence. Luke’s face went from great anger to deep sadness. He took a step up, gradually lessening the distance between you two, and put his two arms on each of your shoulders. The boy knelt down, so the two of you were on eye-level. You were able to see every one of each of his features now.
“Don’t say that.” His voice was lower, and his brown eyes had considerably softened, and it’s as if you were back to when you first fell in love, about three months ago. “We can’t think of life as just an end, or we won’t live at all.”
Your eyes dropped to the sandy ground, unable to hold his gaze any longer. You hadn’t cried in so long that the sensation of the pearly tears dripping down your eyes felt almost foreign, to you. “I can’t help but think of it that way. Knowing our days are counted, threatened by the doings of the gods, is too much to bear, on most days.” You sniffled. “Makes me wonder if there’s truly a point living it all, and if it’s not better to try and lessen the pain as much as you can.” 
Luke was silent for a bit, reflecting onto what you just said, carefully picking out the words he was about to use next. “The one thing about being a demigod is that we’re fundamentally different compared to regular mortals.” He mindlessly wiped a tear off your face with his thumb. “We die young, and most of the time, terribly. This is what differentiates us significantly from mortals.”
You pursed your lips. “Is this how you think you’re gonna make me feel better?”
The dark-haired boy chuckled, a small smile etching its way on his lips. “No. Of course, it’s unfair, but what I mean is that not much mortal philosophy actually applies to us. We have to look up to those who worshipped the same gods we did. See— take Horace, and his whole Carpe Diem belief. He happened, in fact, to be quite right. We need to enjoy our days, live them to the fullest, and make the most of what we have.” He paused, looking away for a split second, before looking back up into your eyes. “You can’t just deny yourself from happiness. Not only you don’t deserve that, it’ll only make your existence as a demigod even more complicated than it already is.” Luke first hesitated before tucking a hair strand of yours behind your ear. “And, especially as a daughter of Aphrodite, you can’t deny yourself from love.” His voice was barely above a whisper now.
His words really resonated with you, for some reason. Of course, all your problems wouldn't disappear out of thin air thanks to his philosophical words, but they were all you needed to close the remaining distance between the two of you, crashing your lips against his. It was a bit bold, and indeed, it took Luke aback. He froze for a split second, but the camp counselor was quick to come to his senses. One hand went up to caress your jaw to deepen the kiss, almost desperately, and the other pulled you in his chest, a strong arm securing you against him. 
You were the first one to pull away, gasping up for air, and he begrudgingly imitated you, his dilated pupils betraying him. He let out a slight chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, trying to play it off cool.
“Didn’t expect you’d be taking my advice so soon.” The boy joked, still squeezing you against his side, practically towering over you. “I’m not complaining, though.” He hurriedly added.
“I didn’t know you’d gotten so wise. If I knew ignoring you would turn into a son of Athena, I would’ve given you silent treatment earlier.” 
Your playful words only made him press you into his side even more, until your cheeks were squished into his hard chest. It was actually quite enjoyable, except for the fact you’d probably end up suffocating and it would then ruin the romantic mood set between the two of you. “Don’t you dare. I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” He replied, a bit of a warning in his voice.  “Even if that means locking you up in the Hermes cabin and tying you down to my bed.”
That made you chuckle. It didn’t exactly sound like a bad situation to you, for numerous reasons, although you wouldn’t admit all of them out loud. Luke must have noticed the slight blush dusting your cheeks since a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. But before he could say anything about it, you spoke up. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away, for keeping you at distance. I—”
“It’s okay, I get it. I appreciate that you’re apologizing, but I’m not blaming you.” He pressed a kiss into the crown of your head, wrapping both his arms around your midsection. “I’m sorry, too, for the way I talked to you, earlier.”
“We’re good, then.”
“Never better.”
“ … ”
“ … ” 
“Does that mean I’m getting my lighter back?”
“Well-tried.”
----------------------------
© hclymoonsblog - Tumblr, 2024.
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fr-ogii · 4 months
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daisy chains
luke castellan
x child of demeter!reader; poc friendly
masterlist
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you often find yourself sitting on a random hill at camp, letting the warm morning sun soak into your skin and the slightly damp grass leave soft green stains on your jean shorts. you fiddle with the grass, often pulling out one or two strands and braiding them.
over, under, over, under. the patterned motion relaxes you as it continues. over, under, over, under.
you toss the strands of grass aside and opt for the daisies that lay around you. it was probably bad karma to rip flowers out of the ground and your mother would probably be at least a bit peeved if she saw you do this. it didn’t matter much to you, you never met demeter and didn’t feel indebted to her in any way. you could make as many daisy chains as you wanted, no one could stop you.
it was similar to how eliza, your friend from athena, would make paper stars whenever she got anxious. your daisy chains and her paper stars were just motions.
either way, luke didn’t mind your habit. he thought it was cute how your twitching hands could make such a beautiful little thing. the intricate braids laced around white daisies and took shape of whatever you wished. sometimes it became a crown. others, it was a necklace. you tried to make a bracelet once, but it fell apart and you hadn’t tried since, instead sticking to what you were more confident in.
speaking of luke, the son of hermes was making his way over to you. “what’re you doing up?”
“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile so soft it rivaled your voice, unnecessarily quiet as to not wake any campers.
perhaps unknowingly following your example, luke lowered his voice as well, despite being far away from any cabins and not being loud to begin with. “you got me there. i was gonna go to the range to practice the bow, you know i’ve been trying to improve?” he added a lilt to the end of his sentence as if he was asking a question.
it took you a second to process what he was saying. “no… i didn’t know that. why? you’ve seemed fine with the bow last i saw you, no?”
“see!” he put emphasis on that word, as if he had proved you wrong. “i seemed fine, not good. big difference, love.” he looked down at your hands, noticing for the first time what you were fiddling with. “you wanna come join? i’m sure there’re plenty of flowers over by the range.”
your smile continued to widen at the goofy expression luke held, clearly proud of himself for finding a way to get you to join him. most times, luke preferred to practice his weaknesses by himself — that was why he was up so early, after all — but he always appreciated when you joined him. he called you his “good luck charm.”
“of course i’ll come, luke.” you popped up off the ground, now no longer as damp as it once was. green stains from the grass painted your shorts, but you ignored them. your hands scurried to snatch up the daisy chain that laid on the ground right below you. the chain was quickly stitched into a crown before you placed it on luke’s head. it was slightly too big and almost fell in front of his eyes.
he linked arms with you and the both of you continued down the hill, sitting course for the range.
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not proofread
my tags are also rlly glitchy so pls excuse if any of them are wrong
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hrtsforhorror · 8 days
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If evil, why comforting???
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
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I won’t be my family
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Book!Percy Jackson x castellan!reader
-£ after the final I needed to make something like this and I don’t apologize. Based on the events in the first book.
-£ also you wanna picture luke as your own? go ahead! I don’t mention what the reader looks like specifically, just that they look like luke.
-£ words: 800
-£ warnings: sight angst, angst to comfort? crying, everything that happens after the betrayal, also me imagining a male reader but it’s up to you!
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percy knew the guilt you felt without ever speaking to you after that night, after he woke up still alive. you failed to meet his eyes when he came close and you’d leave the area he entered. he couldn’t blame you after all it was your older brother who tried to kill him. who set him up to fail from the beginning and not just the same father, mother too.
he needed to speak with you before he left camp and he wouldn’t leave without it. something inside made him sick wondering how you would be feeling at the moment. I mean sure, percy was betrayed by someone he looked up to and almost died so he had a right to be angry. but you were betrayed by family and blood, your own brother had left you at camp to face his conscience alone. it was cruel.
he couldn’t imagine what was running through your head.
you were sitting by the lake as the sun shimmered on your skin that reflected off the water, you looked relaxed. your chest feel slowly and your eyes closed that it almost looked like you were sleeping, if it wasn’t for your foot moving from side to side. in this moment he realized just how much you looked like him. for second he felt threatened at the thought of Luke but he remembered you weren’t him. you weren’t like him even before.
“come to get your revenge?” Your head fell back but never opened your eyes to look at the boy. he was the only one you’d know of to come and find you now.
why couldn’t he just leave you alone? you hated having to face him knowing in someway you hurt him. yes, you didn’t help luke, you didn’t agree with him but it still felt like you were a accomplice somehow in his plan. every person you called friend now looked at you like a monster waiting to backstab them. you’d always be in his shadow.
“on who? I mean, there’s a squirrel in the tree but he’s not the one i’m looking for.” his humor made you force a low huff and lean yourself back up. sighing in defeat you start to play with the rocks around you, clothes stained with water and dirt.
“no offense percy, but I’m already aware of my brothers actions. if you’ve come to tell me about how I’m supporting to acted now then you’re too late, everyone has already beat you to it.”
percy didn’t know how you visited him in the infirmary the first night. you cried about everything as you feed him ambrosia, or placed at cold towel on his burning skin and tried to smooth the nightmares he had. you had lost your brother, but you were with percy to keep him safe.
“honestly you’re taking it better then i would,” his footsteps made sounds as he walked across the stones. “I can’t imagine what it feels like.”
bringing your legs up you take one of them in your arms and hunch over, your lip pursing with sorrow. you could see his warm smile, how he laughed and ruffled your hair, how he told you he’d stay by your side forever. was everything a lie to him?
“and I hope you never will.” you confessed with tears starting to fill the corner of your eyes once more.
he sighed from beside you, his sneakers right beside you. he leaned down and sat on the ground next to you. he truly didn’t know what he was supposed to say to make you feel better and that he didn’t blame you. so he just looked ahead and stared at the water in silence while you sniffled next to him, still never looking his way. from the moment percy met you he could tell you were different from anyone else in Hermes cabin. though, you still had that smirk when you would do something against the rules.
breaking the silence you begin to speak, “I’m not like him.” your voice cracks and for the first time you turn your head towards him. he could see the puffed skin around your eyes and how your lip quivered, “i would never hurt anyone.”
his ears picked up on your tone and body language, you were trying to convince him? of course he knew you’d never think of it. he titled his head as his eyes softened.
“i know that. and I don’t blame you for your brother’s actions, if there is one thing I’ve learned. it is that family is messy.” looking at the gods relationship with each other with all the backstabbing and plots against each other, let alone to their children as well.
“i won’t be my family, not my brother, not my dad or my mother.” your face scrunched up. you looked pained, your voice growing colder and forced.
he offered a kind smile, “you’ll be better.”
-£ Taglist: @itzmeme @ravenmedows @maria699669
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frickingnerd · 4 months
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percy jackson dating luke's ex
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pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader
tags: fighting (luke & percy), luke is an asshole, protective percy
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luke already did not like percy, but after the two of you broke up and you started dating percy, he was furious! 
and percy was well aware of that. it was hard to ignore those glares he got from luke whenever he was holding your hand or kissing you in public
though the two of you did try to ignore luke as best as you could – which didn't always work out! 
luke would be the one searching for an opportunity to talk to the two of you and attempt to cause trouble
he'll often remind percy that he already took all your firsts and that you'll always be more attached to luke than percy
the two of them are often close to getting physical with their fights, but by now the campers know that if those two are talking with each other, it's better to seperate them as soon as possible
percy tries to not let luke's words get to him, but there are times where he'll get quite upset about luke's comments
you're always there to calm him down and comfort him and that usually helps
but still, percy doesn't like the way luke treats you, even after your break up, and he really wants to teach that guy a lesson and shut him up for good!
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yawneon · 4 months
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ameliorate
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a/n : i’ve never publicly posted a fic/drabble here before so i’m nervous about this and i’m knew to fandom writing so bare with me.. (thanks if u read this, love u lots (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b )
pairing : luke castellan x apollo kid!reader
summary : you were there when thalia got turned into the pine tree. you were a healer, why couldn’t you have healed her?
!!! : angst, luke comforts reader, gn!reader, reader has a lot of emotional turmoil, a lot of self-loathe, reader blames themselves, i tried my best okay (。•́︿•̀。), you can read this to be platonic or romantic idfk, pre-percy
————— ୨୧ —————
a healer, that was your job.
ever since you took a step into the camp, you were given a role and that role is what you were going to do. heal and protect others, that is your purpose.
it was going to be easy. how hard could it be? heal some cuts here and there, maybe a sprained ankle when luke went too rough on another camper.
that’s what you thought it was gonna be. that’s what it was meant to be.
the events of that day still run circles in your mind. you should’ve done more, you could have. it was hard for everyone of course it was. grover failed at his job, luke and annabeth lost their sister. it was selfish thinking like this wasn’t it? to feel like you were the one taking it the hardest.
-
a sigh comes out shakily from your throat as you stand infront of thalia. your hand drags along the rough wooden exterior that once used to be her skin. trailing down you feel the gritty moss beneath your touch and you remember her soft hair, her laugh, her eyes. it was self torture thinking like this. you knew that.
but you were a healer.
why couldn’t you heal her back to normal? people at camp- no even chiron said that your powers are some of the best he’s ever seen so why the fuck can you not heal her back to normal? why in that moment you couldn’t have had some instinct to heal her? what was wrong with you? you had every chance to save thalia,
why did you not take it?
before you realise it tears stream down your face and your knelt infront of the solid lumber which was once your friend, your sister. on both knees you cry into your hands. thalia was gone and you failed your whole purpose.
you heal people.
-
you lost count of how long it was since you came to see thalia. had it been 20 minutes? maybe an hour? you didn’t know. you stood yourself up now, tears still silently rolling down your cheeks. you were stuck in your head for what felt like weeks, years almost. you came to do this often, to see thalia. to try and erase the guilt that built in your stomach and plagued your mind every living moment of every living day.
you were sick and you were tired, exhausted if you must. you wished she would wake up, gods you wished you would wake up and this would all be some batshit hallucination. but alas, the gods don’t respond to such calls.
you feel a breeze hit you, it wasn’t cold but you still shivered at the feeling. you close your eyes hoping for something to happen. you wait,
one second,
then two,
then th- are those arms around your waist right now?
-
“shit!” you jump, feeling two strong arms curl around your waist. turning around your met with the goofy smile of luke castellan. “sorry, sunshine.” he laughs softly, quickly you raise your hands to your face wiping your eyes and he tuts his tongue at you. “why are you hiding away from me?” luke pouts at you, one arm secured around your middle while his other hand reaches to your face cupping your cheek.
“what are you doing out here?” you say clearing your throat to stable your voice. “i’m here to make sure your not in your head.” he grabs the top of your head and shakes it about and you swat away his hands with a soft “quit it.”
“i was just about to head back in” you say, let me rephrase that. you- “your lying.” he says and quite literally takes the words out of my mouth.
“we all wish we could’ve saved her, sunshine.” luke coos, standing next to you now. his hand now securely on your shoulder pulling you close to comfort you. it was ironic calling you sunshine honestly. yeah your dad was apollo, greek god of sun and light, but your light was dimmer compared to your bright and bouncy siblings. a rough sigh escapes your throat and you hang your head low, “i could’ve done more. i should have luke you don’t get it.” you murmured.
luke looks at you worriedly, his hand rubbing your shoulder warmly. “we all wish that, sunny.” another contridictive nickname. “i know what is going on in that brain of yours you know.” luke’s the one that sighed now. “you know your abilities a lot more deeply now, you were a kid back then. we all were, you can’t keep blaming yourself for things that a kid who was barely a teenager could have never done.” luke emphasised, his eyes drawing from thalia to look at you.
“she isn’t even dead, sunshine.” luke smiles solemnly at you, his lips forming a tight line before the corners of it rise. “she’s right here.” his hand touches the bark of the tree. “right here with all of us.”
luke’s hands draw to both of your shoulders and he turns your body so both of you are face to face. “no matter how strong someone is, you can’t save everyone.” he nods sadly, “i know you wish you could, but you can’t.” he bites his inner cheek to stop his own tears from pooling out. “sun-“ before he could finish that sentence your arms were around him, embracing him softly. no words had to be spoken for luke to just hug you back. soft sobs escaping your throat as you cry into his warm body.
you two stood there for a while but that didn’t matter to him, he was your friend and he was your pillar in this time of need. no matter how wet his tshirt was right now, it didn’t matter. luke would rather stand there and hug you for a century, for a millenia, for fucking ever if that meant that you were gonna be okay. he’ll be there right by your side through everything. you’ll heal every one of his cuts and he’ll fight the ares kid that makes fun of you during capture the flag and then you’ll bake him blue cupcakes as a thank you.
-
you were a healer.
and despite not being able to save your sister, thalia. you vow to never let anyone else go through that. you were a healer and you will heal others and yourself for her.
f/n
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angelfacedelrey · 6 days
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Unloved ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
summary: luke confesses some his stuggles to you, then you confess some of yours to him.
words: 1.7 k
!! MAJOR ed tw !!
a/n: this is just me venting about my ed lol. this is my first fic so please be nice <3
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There was something off about Luke. You could tell the moment you saw him. Even though you’ve only been dating for 4 months now, you know when something is wrong. During the party that the Dionysus kids insisted they threw (for pretty much no reason), he wasn’t his usual smiley and outgoing self. He seemed reserved and quiet. You were outside the dining pavilion talking to some other kids from camp. In the glow of the torches, everyone was laughing and having a good time except for him. You weren't either, but you tried to look like you were. Your arm was wrapped around his as you leaned against him and listened to the conversation, though you couldn’t focus on what they were saying. You kept glancing up at Luke every minute or so to see if he looked any happier (he never did). 
After the conversation fades out, you pull him away to a quiet area and whisper to him, “Luke, are you okay… you seem… off.”
He sighs and looks away for a second before answering, “Let’s talk by the lake.” 
Anxiety grows in your stomach. What could this mean? You just nod as he grabs your hand and takes you to the lake. The water is pitch black in the night and there is a chill in the summer air. He lets go of your hand and looks down to see your face. 
“I’m sorry… there’s just a lot going on right now,” His hand scratches the back of neck as he says this. 
“You don’t have to be sorry, Luke. I’m listening,” you say, as you look him in the eyes and gently grab his hand. “I know it must be hard since Percy and Annabeth went on that quest, I know she was like a little sister to you.”
Nervously, he clears his throat. “Yeah, but, um, it’s not just that…”
“Oh…what is it?”
He sighs and lowers his head, “Look, just promise me that you won’t view me any differently after I tell you this.”
“No, no,” you say hastily, while shaking your head. “There’s nothing you could ever say to me that will make me view you differently, Luke. I’ll love you no matter what, I promise.”
Luke looks you in the eyes again. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” a reassuring smile grows on your face.
He can’t help but smile with you. He’ll remember that. “Look, it’s just about my dad… Do you ever feel… betrayed by our godly parents?”
Taken aback by the question, you stop to think before answering. “Betrayed how?”
“Like, they just ignore us, like we’re nothing to them. Like we’re not even their children.”
“I-I guess so. I mean I feel like that sometimes.”
“That shouldn’t be how it is, though,” He sighs and keeps talking. “I don’t think Hermes even knows most of his kids. Most of my half siblings have barely met him, if at all. It’s just so… infuriating. He goes around, siring kids, and then sits up in Olympus and just leaves them. I’ve spent my entire fucking life wondering where my father is. Waiting for him to maybe one day come and talk to me or just acknowledge my existence. But, no. I’ve only met him once, because he can’t be bothered to get to know his own fucking kid!” 
For a moment, he runs his hand through his curls and exhales before he continues. “And what I’m about to say might sound… bad…but seeing Percy get claimed just like that after finding out he’s a half blood for, like, what a week? It just intensified everything I felt before… Like some kid just shows up and now he’s loved by everyone and claimed by his father. And yet, I fight everyday and what do I get? Nothing! I’m the best sword fighter in camp, I pray, I give offerings, I’ve done everything right. But it’s still not enough for him… I’m just so fucking tired of these Gods just doing whatever they want and not caring who they hurt…”
After saying all that he turns back to look at you. You're standing there in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. 
“Luke, I… I’m so sorry,” you walk over and give him a hug. He hugs you back and rests his chin on your head. A few silent moments pass as you stay like that. The sound of campers excitedly chatting and partying could be heard distantly behind them. 
“Do you see me differently now?” He asks, quietly.
You pull away, but keep your hands on his arms, gripping him gently. “No, Luke, I really don’t. I told you nothing you say will ever make me view you differently.”
“I know it’s just that… most people would think that I’m… weak for feeling this…”
“Weak?” You look shocked. “How could anyone ever think you’re weak? You’re one of the strongest people I know!” You kiss him softly on the cheek and smile reassuringly causing a slight blush to appear on his cheeks. 
“I understand what you’re saying, trust me. I, of all people, understand what it’s like to do your best to get your parent’s love and praise… and yet, it’s never enough,” You say, trying to give him a sympathetic look.
“You understand?” Luke asks, his face softening a bit. 
“I understand all too well…” You say with a humorless laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but…”
“But?” 
“Well, y’know with Aphrodite being the goddess of beauty and all…there’s, um, a lot of pressure for us to look a certain way…”
Sighing slightly, Luke brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Is this about… dieting?” He says it carefully, unsure of how to word it correctly. 
“Yeah,” you look away, ashamed to be telling someone this. “I’ve been counting calories since I learned to count. I obsess over every little thing I consume. I eat as little as I can, yet it always feels like too much. I go on runs or swims everyday… and it’s still never enough. I’m never thin enough… I love my mom, but… I can’t help, but feel like she made me start doing this.”
Now it’s Luke’s turn to stand there in stunned silence. “I had no idea… that you’re going through all this. I-I’m sorry, I should’ve noticed.” He thinks back to everyday in the dining pavilion when he’d look over to you at the Aphrodite table and see you playing with your food instead of eating. Or all the times when you’d say you weren’t hungry and would change the subject to anything besides food. Or all the daily runs he’d see you go on. Or, most concerning of all, the quick weight loss. How all your clothes that used to fit, now hang over your body like a shower curtain. Your once cherub-like face became pale and almost gaunt with dark circles under your eyes and a tired expression always. How has no one noticed? How has he never noticed?
You just shake your head and give him a gentle smile. “Luke, it’s okay. I tried my hardest to keep it hidden. Also, my mental state isn’t your responsibility…”
“But I’m your boyfriend,” grabbing your hands gently, he looks at you with a sympathetic expression. “It’s my job to care for you, especially when you’re… sick. Does anyone else know?”
“No,” you shake your head once more. “You’re the first person I told… It’s not a big deal, I’m not even that sick.”
“What?” He says, his eyebrows furrowing together as a shocked expression etches onto his face. “Not that sick? Y/N, you’re starving yourself! That sounds pretty sick to me.”
You just shrug in response.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since like,10 or 11. I told you, I’ve been counting calories since I learned to count.”
He stands there quietly for a bit, as his heart sinks. “That young?”
“Yeah,” you respond. 
“If you don’t mind me asking… How many calories do you eat in a day?”
“I-I don’t know,” you lie, you know exactly how many calories you consume, down to the stick of gum you’d chew for a snack. “Like about 400-800…” You try (and fail) to fight back a smile that grows on your face. Despite how unhealthy it is, you can’t help, but feel proud of it. 
Luke, on the other hand, just feels shocked and concerned. “That-that’s nothing… and for so long. Y/N, you need help. You’re killing yourself.”
“I know, believe me, I know… But I can’t stop.” 
He reaches up and cups your face, rubbing circles with his thumbs before kissing your forehead. “I wish you could realize you’re perfect the way you are. I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else does,” he says it softly. “I’d love you, no matter how you look.”
“Really?” You ask, while a blush appears on your cheeks.
“Really,” He says, tenderly grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. You rest your head against his chest and once again, you stay like that for a while.
Slowly, you pull away and smile softly at him. “I’m getting tired, can you stay with me tonight?... Not to do anything, but just like to… be with me…” You hastily added the last part, but hesitated. Most guys don’t react kindly to you saying you don’t want to do anything.
“Of course,” Luke responds. “But can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Can you try to… eat better tomorrow? Please, just try…”
You hesitate before answering, “I will. I’ll try.”
He smiles brightly, “That’s my girl.” He gently grabs your hand and walks you to Cabin 10.
You spend the rest of the night together in your bed. However, Luke doesn’t get much sleep. 
He holds you close to his chest as you sleep and thinks about everything you had told him. He hates himself for not noticing sooner. But a very small part of him feels relieved. If your mom caused you this much pain, then maybe convincing you to join him in taking down the Gods wouldn’t be as hard as he thought…
He hates himself even more for thinking that.   
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soulthrifted · 3 months
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About - The reader finds themself overwhelmed by their godly parent’s absence and Luke comforts them.
Pairing - Luke Castellan/Reader
Warnings - Hurt/Comfort
A/N - I’m not too happy with this one for I feel like it could be longer, but I hope you enjoy it!! I also didn’t proofread much so I apologize for any mistakes with in the writing.
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-[ Made for you ]-
Sometimes being a kid of a godly being isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It can be lonely and tiring. Never knowing what your parents truly want from you. Never knowing what you were truly made made for. That’s what I’m feeling right now as I take my anger, my sadness, out on a practice dummy at the training arena. I slice it over and over as tears stream down my face. Each time I slice at the dummy another sob leaves my throat. It’s late at night, the arenas lights are off and the only thing illuminating me is the soft glow of the moon. Why doesn’t he talk to me? Slice. Why doesn’t he care? Slice. What does he want from me. Slice. Why won’t he talk to me? Slice. Does he even care? I collapse to the ground, my body finally gives out and my arm goes slack. My sword clangs to the ground and I can no longer control my cries, I’m just tired. Tired of not knowing. Tired of begging for attention from my own father. I’m so tired.
I can hear footsteps approaching me, but I don’t stop crying. As much as I want to I can’t. I can’t stop. I don’t stop when I hear my name called out. I don’t stop when the soft footsteps turn heavy, they must be running. I don’t stop when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I don’t stop when I feel the person pull me flush against them. Instead I cry into their shirt. I cry as they hold me tightly. I cry as Luke Castellan’s familiar voice whispers sweet things to me. “It’s okay, (name). I’m here now. It’s okay.” I feel him rub comforting circles on my back. The attempt to calm me down only causes me to cry harder. I try to speak, but all that leaves my throat is another sob.
Luke and I sit like this for what feels like an eternity. He holds me closely until my sobbing stops and silent tears stream down my face. I pull away from the crook of his neck and look at him sadly. I know my face is red and puffy from crying, Luke doesn’t care. He reaches up and wipes the remaining tears from my face. His touch is gentle. He’s always so gentle. “It’s okay.” He whispers again “I’m here.” He flashes me a soft smile. There’s not an ounce of pity in his eyes. He doesn’t pity me, he understands me. He knows why I’m crying. He knows why I’m so hurt. He always knows. I don’t know how he always knows. Maybe it’s the years of friendship we have between us. Maybe it’s his excellent analyzation skills. Whatever it is, I’m greatful for.
In the tapestry of my life, Like stands as the unchanging thread that weaves through every moment. He’s always here giving me unwavering support through both my good moments and my bad. Luke’s consistency is not just a fleeting assurance; it’s a timeless commitment that assures me he will always be there for me.
I rest my forehead against his and place both my hands on either side of his face. I whisper a small ‘thank you’ to him. My voice is raspy and corse from crying, but he doesn’t care.
He squeezes my side in acknowledgment of what I said. “There’s no need to thank me, I’ll always be here for you.” I close my eyes and take in the comfort that Luke provides. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks and I shake my head.
“No. Not at all.” I pull my head away from his and my hands fall onto his shoulders. He nods his head in understanding and his hand reaches up to wipe away the last tears that fell from my face.
“You’re perfect, (name). I want you to know that. Your father is an idiot for not answering you, for not seeing the woman you’ve become.” He pushes a price of my hair behind my ear and I feel as if my skin has been lit aflame. “He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t deserve you.” his hand falls from my face and captures my hand instead. He pulls it up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my knuckle. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”
I shake my head again. “I don’t want to go back to my cabin.” I say as Luke helps me up from the ground.
“They you can stay with me.” He says as we begin walking towards the Hermès’ Cabin. When we walk inside I take in the familiar walls, the comforting smell and the warmth of the cabin. I spent my first two years at camp in this cabin with Luke. It took me a long time to prove myself to my father. It took a long time for him to claim me. When I was claimed and I moved into my new cabin, it didn’t feel like home. It still doesn’t. For me, home is not a place, but it is a person. Home is wherever Luke Castellan is.
I watch as he pulls back the covers of his bed and lays down in it, patting the spot next to him. This isn’t the first time we’ve shared a bed together for a night, and it likely won’t be the last. When we lived in the same cabin I used to snuggle up next to him when he had a nightmare or was just simply feeling alone. I lay in the bed beside him and his arms immediately wrap themselves around me. I snuggle close to him, enjoying the warmth his body provides.
I fall asleep finally knowing what I was made for. I was made for Luke Castellan as he was made for me.
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Do you know how humbling it is to try and explain to someone that Luke Castellan is one of my main comfort characters? Like yes, he is my comfort character! Yes, he hasn’t had a ounce of comfort a single day in his life ever since he was 9 months old! But thinking about him and his many traumas comforts ME! 😤😭
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cherryberry444 · 1 month
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I Like U
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pairing: luke castellan x apollo kid!reader
summary: in which luke is constantly getting hurt on camp, leaving you to help patch him up in the infirmary. but what if luke is getting hurt on purpose as an excuse to see you?
warning: this is my first tumblr one shot so be understanding! i am not a nurse! just making this up lowkey!
contains: inspiration from a cai prompt by @/junifairy. flirting, banter, down bad luke.
word count: 1402
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
It was a typical day in the infirmary for you. You had gotten used to your usual tasks by now. Patch people up, make sure they're good to go, clean up and repeat. It had become pretty mundane at this point but it was what you were good at and plus every now and then something intriguing would happen. There were some pretty cute campers that would come in bruised up and to say you enjoyed taking care of them would be kinda sick but let's just say you didn't mind it.
One of the cutest, though nothing but trouble was Luke Castellan, son of Hermes. He was the strongest and most skilled swordsman on camp so it wasn't shocking he'd need to go to the infirmary ever so often. Although, the frequency of his appearance over minor injuries and the way he'd flirt with you while he was here did leave you suspicious. But, Luke probably flirts with a lot of people so you tried not to think much of it.
"Oh gods what is it today Luke?" You asked as Luke walked in with a few minor cuts on his face and arms.
"Nothing major..just a few sword injuries is all" Luke shrugged, taking a seat on an infirmary bed.
"For the best swordsman in camp you sure get a lot of cuts.." You said, grabbing rubbing alcohol and gauze from the hospital tray by the bed and going to sit next to him.
"Hey..." Luke rolled his eyes.
"Just saying." You said grabbing the gauze to clean the wounds on his arm first. Luke squinted slightly but didn't react much.
"So what have you been doing today, beautiful?"
You scoff. "My job"
"Other than that I mean"
"Why so curious?"
"I just wanna know what someone as beautiful as you does on their free time"
You scoff again. "Stop"
"Stop?"
"Flirting."
"Who said I'm flirting?"
"Oh please you're always flirting" you say, putting bandages on his arm.
Luke gasps lightly. "Do you really think so lowly of me?" He says placing a hand on his chest.
You look up at him with a serious face. Luke laughs. "Can't you just accept that I think you're really pretty?"
"Whatever Luke, anyone can be pretty"
"Well yeah but I think you're especially pretty" Luke smiles softly.
"Did they knock you in the head too?" You ask sarcastically, checking his head for wounds.
"No, my head is perfectly clear"
"And empty"
"Hey!" Luke says defensively.
You laugh. "Someone smart wouldn't get so much wounds"
"I'm extremely smart," Luke defends.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm"
"How so?"
"So there's someone I really like.." Your breath hitches at this sentence.
"And they work in the infirmary, so I kind of let my competitor hit me a few times in combat just so I can go see them. Isn't that clever?" Luke asks.
Your eyes widen. "What? No, that's stupid! Who is it?" You ask, genuinely confused after cleaning the wound on his face.
"Oh you're not very bright either.."
"What?..No.."
"It's you"
"Luke you're kidding"
"I'm not"
"You don't like me. You must be experiencing..nightingale effect or whatever but I am simply your nurse. Nothing more" You explain.
"But I'd love it if we were more" Luke says in a low voice, looking into your eyes and softly grabbing the hand that was cleaning his wounds.
"I think you bumped your head.. like actually. This is a little far, even for you." You say moving away from him.
"Not at all. Y/N, can you let me speak freely?"
"My gods"
"Please?"
"Alright go ahead, whatever"
"I've always liked you y/n. I know you think I'm just this big flirt who doesn't mean it or something but it's not like that, at all. I've always thought you were beautiful, even before you started working in the infirmary. You have to believe me." Luke says sincerely.
You stare at him for a second in silence and shock.
"I'm sorry this is too much. Fuck, I don't usually express my feelings to people but I just couldn't hold back any longer. Coming to the infirmary often, I just felt like that was the only way you'd talk to me or even look at me and I know that may be wrong but..I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you and talk to you and I know I could've just said something like a normal person but I was too scared and I-" You cut him off.
"Luke Castellan, scared? Losing in combat to come see me? You're actually so stupid.." You chuckle.
"You're kinda scary, y/n" Luke admits.
"How?"
"You don't take any bullshit and you never flirt back you just do your job and I really regret even bringing this up because you obviously don't see me like that and I just..fuck" Luke curses, looking around nervously.
You take in a breath and giggle a little. "You're cute when you're worried"
Luke's eyes brighten up. "Cute? You take pleasure in my pain?"
"Well, no. You're always cute Luke." You admit.
Luke smiles. "You really think so?"
"Castellan are you blushing?" You tease.
"No it's..it's the bruising!" Luke defends.
"Mhm right.." You sass.
"So you like me too?"
"I didn't say that."
"Oh" Luke tries to hide his frown.
"But"
"But?"
"Well..I think you're cute and strong and funny and..you know, I like talking to you when you come in here. Even if it's just you hitting on me, it's entertaining." You explain, looking into his eyes.
"I think that means you like me y/n"
"You're so full of yourself Castellan" You say, pushing him lightly.
"Hey don't push me, I'm injured!" Luke exclaims.
"Oh please you're fine" You wave off.
"You think I'm fine?"
"Shut the fuck up!" You laugh.
"Hey if you kiss my wounds do you think they'll heal quicker?" Luke asks
"Hm maybe" You say playing along.
"Hm, my lip kinda hurts too. Do you think you could kiss it better by chance?"
"Go back to your cabin Castellan" You roll your eyes, getting up.
"Not without you"
"What?! You're delusional" You try to hide your blush.
"You like me. I see you blushing. You like that idea don't you?"
"What?"
"Hm? Tell me..have you thought about what our first kiss would be like? I have" Luke says, getting up and moving closer to you.
"You're actually too much today" You laugh.
"I asked you something," He said.
"Um" Luke waited for your response.
"Maybe"
"Maybe?"
"Yeah but everyone wants to kiss you Luke so it's nothing major"
"But I only want to kiss you," He says sincerely.
"Hm" you smile softly, looking down.
"Look at me" He says, lifting your chin and softly moving your hair out of your eyes.
You look at him nervously. He laughs lightly. "Don't laugh at me!"
"I'm not..it's just..I've never seen you so nervous. I didn't know you were even capable of being nervous"
"Well I am okay you win"
"Yes I do," he smirks.
You roll your eyes. "Stop"
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me like that. Like you want to kiss me."
"Well, I do"
"Well we can't"
"Why?"
"Because this is a professional setting"
Luke scoffs. "We're gods!" He affirms.
"Demigods" you correct.
"Whatever, I think you're just scared"
"Maybe.."
"Definitely. Look there's nothing to be scared of"
"You sure?" You ask, looking at him with gleaming eyes.
"Positive, you're gonna love it" Luke claims.
"You're so conceited" You scoff.
"Let me show you?" He asks nicely.
"Alright"
Luke takes in a breath, caressing the side of your face softly. He smiles softly before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your lips, you kiss him back, opening your mouth as he opens his and your mouths slowly move in sync. His tongue moves into your mouth as he places his hand on the back of your neck, kissing you harder. "Mm" you hum in response.
"You like that?" He asks between the kiss, making your breath hitch.
"Mm, mhm" You giggle, kissing him again before the kiss breaks.
"We shouldn't be doing this here" you say.
"So let's do it somewhere else, hm?" He suggests. For some stupid reason you agree and walk out of the infirmary with him to kiss him in a more private setting.
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taytaystan · 2 months
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I finished reading 'Titans Curse' like two minutes ago and I'm still crying over Bianca and Zoë, and Nico not knowing what the future holds for him or even who his dad is.
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queer-little-demigod · 2 months
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masterlist!
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Hi! My name's Lea. I see you've stumbled upon my tiny, queer little demigod corner of the internet! here's a masterlist of my fics, along with some rules.
Rules:
No smut for any of the characters because they are underage.
Triggering fics will be marked with a (*)
requests are open, DMs or asks are welcome &lt;3
please be patient when it comes to the fics being written. your request may take longer than expected to be released, but please don't constantly ask for an update on it...
poly imagines are a NO. (bcause i cannot figure out how to write 'em.)
please be nice <3
feedback is definitely reccommended in any form! likes, reblogs, comments, anything!
18+/NSFW accounts are NOT allowed to interact here &lt;3
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Clarisse La Rue
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you belong with me (fluff)
you got an artist inside you (fluff)
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Luke Castellan
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i like me better when i’m with you (fluff)
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Percy Jackson
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Annabeth Chase
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Grover Underwood
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have a lovely day/night!
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I just want to say that I will absolutely accept book Luke slander because he is a weirdo and betrayed Percy and is sorta a pedophile cause he "liked" Annabeth who was 12 at the time and he was 19.
But Pjo series Luke??
That man is on a whole other level and I will not take any slander about him, whatsoever in any circumstance.
I mean yeah- sure he's about to betray Percy and everyone else in camp.
Yes he's about to join the evil side and work with Kronos to take down the gods.
But- He's actually so fine AND those curls?? like excuse me?? You cannot look at this man and tell me you don't forgive for any bad he's about to do??
And not to mention Charlie Bushnell plays the part so so SO well.
This is going to make the betrayal hurt so hard and I will definitely be sobbing about it at 3 am but it's okay.
The suffering we all go through for this fandom is worth it- 😭
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chattnoir6 · 2 months
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“And as the weeks pass, he finds himself enjoying the company of Annabeth. She’s bright compared to this darkness. And maybe he’s crazy, but it doesn’t matter. Not now as he loses hope. He can’t help but indulge her.
And he thinks perhaps, just this once, he’ll answer her calls.”
(Unsung, ao3)
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booksforevermore13 · 2 months
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Luke and Annabeth's relationship closely mirrors that of an elder-sibling, younger-sibling relationship in an abusive household. Idk but I've been thinking about this a lot, so I need to put it out there to get it off my mind.
Their relationship is one siblings share in an abusive household. Where the elder one tries their absolute hardest to make sure that their sibling doesn't have to see or bear the burden of their family. That their sibling doesn't have to shoulder the burden that their older brother or sister has been carrying from the get-go.
The elder one tries their absolute freaking hardest, gets up in the morning even though for them, mornings seem the bleakest and nights the most treacherous. But they get through the day to make sure their sibling is safe. They shoulder the taunts, and insults, and tirades of their parents, take care of their breakdowns, and steps in as their therapist, even though on the inside, they are just done.
They are done with this nonsense, of having to be the bigger one in every shitty argument, of getting up each day and trying to understand what kind of day its gonna be, and then accepting their defeat because in this situation, triumph is a long time coming. They are done with their parents treating them as a punching bag. They are done stepping in every time their younger sibling fucks up and they have to step in to bear the brunt of their parent's wrath. They are done.
And so they leave. They leave their house when they come of age, and they go far far away, even though it kills them to leave their younger sibling behind, even though they know its wrong to flee because if they don't, they wouldn't be able to stop themselves from jumping off of a roof the next time they're on one.
They leave.
Leaving their little siblings behind.
And the younger ones just can't fathom what's up with them. I mean, of course the know, they've seen their older brothers and sisters struggling. But they just can't get over the betrayal, and the hurt, and the fact that they're the ones left behind. They're the ones who'd have to shoulder the burden now. There would be no one for them to turn to, or cry to, or share a dark joke with at the expense of their shitty parents and there would be no one left who'd be there to love them.
And I think that captures Luke and Annabeth's relationship so perfectly.
That is their essence.
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