SERENDIPITY
a/n: there are scenes here from the demigod diaries, specifically the diary of luke castellan. credits to uncle rick for those scenes đŻ the characters and the pjo verse belongs to rick riordan except Amaya Williams and her father.
beta'd by the amazing @lilmaymayy đ
If you guys wanna be added to the luke castellan taglist, just ask! Anyway, onto the story!
word count: 5.5k
luke and maya masterlist
CHAPTER ONE: THE YOUNG HALF BLOODS
LUKE CASTELLAN didnât want to be a half-blood.
        Who would want to be one? Luke had learned from a young age that he could not live a quiet and peaceful life. He was a demigod. If you think that sounds cool, think again. All those Greek monsters from the stories? They are real. Demigods are monster magnets. Monsters can sense them even from miles away.Â
Luke was nine when he ran away from home. His home life wasnât exactly ideal. For as long as he could remember, he knew his mother wasnât normal. Sure, some mothers had addictions, were abusive, and such, but his mother was on a whole new level. At the young age of three, Luke was terrified of his motherâs fits. Her stormy eyes would turn green and she would start screaming Danger! Terrible fate! in a deep, far away voice. Every time it happened, Luke would hide in the furthest corner of his closet, covering his ears while his mother screamed again and again as tears streamed down his face. He felt helpless that he couldnât do anything for his mother. Luke prayed and prayed for someone to come and save him and his mother, but no one came. Not even his father.
Luke had known who his father was since he was four. His mother always muttered his name, how could he not understand that? Luke was a son of Hermes, he wasn't clueless like how the gods expected him to be. There was a photo at the top of the mantle of the once cozy house that Luke never got a chance to see: a photo of a happy couple with a squirming little baby, them, his once so perfect family.
Luke wondered why his father abandoned him and his mother if they were this perfect family when he was a baby? He prayed day and night to his father but as the days passed, Luke learned to resent his fatherâblaming him for all of his misery and for what had happened to his motherâif it wasnât for him leaving maybe his mother wouldnât be unstable, if it wasnât for him he couldâve had a proper childhood, if it wasnât for him he couldâve had a nurturing mother.
Luke would get extremely jealous of children with loving parentsâthe life he was deprived ofâhe would watch as mothers tended to their children in his neighborhood, he would watch fathers play with their children, while all he had was a broken mother and a deadbeat father.Â
Because of that, Luke packed up and ran away and didnât look back. Heâs come to understand that no one will ever rescue him; he has to take his fate into his own hands.Â
Living alone on the streets at the age of nine is harder than it looked. At first, Luke thought it would all be a great adventure, just like in the stories he heard before, but he eventually realized that living in that houseâif you could even call that a houseâeven with his possessed mother, is safer than fending for himself.
Luke hadnât brought a weapon with him when he left, not even one of those knives from the kitchen that had never been used and was only rusting in the kitchen drawer, and his carelessness had nearly killed him more than once. He resorted to diving in dumpsters to try to disguise his scent and never stayed in one place for long, always on the move with hardly enough time to steal a few hoursâeven minutesâof sleep using his backpack as a pillow.
By the second month, Luke nearly admitted defeat. Heâd sell his soul to some dark god for a good nightâs sleep and a hot meal. Heâs exhausted and filthy, penniless and constantly on the run from monsters and well-meaning mortals alike. His backpack felt far heavier than it should and he found himself running out of breath almost every time. His clothes, which had once been bordering on too small thanks to a recent growth spurt, now hang off his thin frame, the cuffs frayed and stained beyond recognition.
Luke imagined all the normal families living in those cozy houses he once passed. He wondered what it would be like to have a homeâa proper homeâto know where his next meal was coming from, and not have to worry about getting eaten by monsters every day. He barely remembered what it was like to sleep in a real bed. Luke was tired of fending for his life, but eventually he managed to get the hang of living day to day with a promise to himself that he will never be like his father.Â
He traveled on foot, to state by state, lonely and miserable. Once, when he stopped by in a town for a while, Luke tried to befriend a mortal, but whenever he told them the truth about himself, they didnât understand. Heâd confess that he was the son of Hermes, the immortal messenger dude with the winged sandals. Heâd explain that monsters and Greek gods were real and very much alive in the modern world. His mortal friends would say, âThat is so cool! I wish I was a demigod!â Like itâs some sort of game and heâd always ended up leaving.
For five years Luke fought hard to survive. He shoplifted food from convenience stores and tried to fight off monsters with a pocket knife he had stolen from a family having a picnic at a park he once passed. Even though heâd never met his father and didn't really want to, he shared some of his talents. Along with being messenger of the gods, his father is also the god of merchantsâwhich explains why he was good with moneyâand travelers, which explains why the so-called divine god left his mother without ever looking back at the family he supposedly built. Hermes is also the god of thieves, hence the shoplifting and stealing. It wasnât an ideal life for a child. He was barely living, but eventually Luke just simply learned to live the life he was forced to.Â
When Luke was fourteen, he had met Thaliaâthe daughter of Zeus. The meeting had been an accident (it wasnât). They had literally run into each other in a dragonâs cave outside Charleston and teamed up to stay alive. At first Luke was skeptical of trusting Thalia. No one else in his life had ever understood him, but she did. Thalia fighting off monsters shouldâve been Lukeâs first clue, that Thalia was like himâa demigod. But unlike him, Thalia had it worse. She was a forbidden kid, born out of a pact sworn on the River Styx. Luke eventually trusted Thalia and the two chose to team up to stay alive, subsequently traveling across the country while fending for themselves.
Being with Thalia made Luke feel less lonely. He finally had a friend, a friend who understood the struggles he had gone through his whole life. With her, battling monsters didnât feel that scary anymore.
At some point, they arrived at Richmond, Virginia where Thalia followed a goatâAmaltheia. Luke didnât understand why they were following a goat. Why were they following a goat? He didnât know. Thalia then told Luke that it was Amaltheia who led her to him, that their meeting wasnât by accident and decided to follow her thinking that Amaltheia was sent by her father, Zeus. Thalia could flash her blue eyes, give him one kind word, and she can get him to do pretty much anythingâeven though it was against his better judgment.
Amaltheia led Thalia and Luke to an old mansion. Once insideâthanks to Lukeâs skills (which he isnât proud of)âthey realized that the mansion was a trap, a deadly one at that. As they were trying everything to escape, they met Halcyon Green, a demigod son of Apollo who was cursed by the gods for saving a girlâs life with his ability to see into the future. He had been imprisoned and unable to speak. A part of Halcyonâs curse was to lure demigods into being eaten by the three leucrotaeâa terrifying monster that cannot be defeated by man nor god.Â
Luke already knew the gods could be cruel. His own father had ignored him for fourteen years. But Halcyon Greenâs curse was just plain wrong. It was evil. Luke desperately wanted to find a way to rescue him and Thalia. But Hal told them that every demigod thought that at first, that they could escape, but soon realized it wasn't possible. Thalia was able to claim the Aegisâa bracelet that transforms into a replica of her fatherâs shieldâa blessing from Zeus. After hours of searching, they discovered that the only way to defeat the leucrotae was making Greek fire.
In the end, Hal decided that he would sacrifice himself to give them time to escape. But before he did, Hal had predicted Luke's future but left him vague answers when asked about it. Hal later gave Luke his personal diary and a celestial bronze knife. Luke and Thalia successfully escaped, shaken, but nonetheless unscathed. Luke gripped his backpack close, the diary and the celestial bronze knifeâthe only remnants of Halcyon Greenâs lifeâsafe inside with the word Promise, that Hal had written.
I promise, Hal, Luke thought. Iâll learn from your mistakes. If the gods ever treat me that badly, Iâll fight back. Luke wouldnât let him down like the gods damned them to be.
The two ran through the streets of Richmond until they found a small park where they cleaned themselves the best they could. Then they laid low until dark. The two didnât bother to talk about what had happened while they wandered through neighborhoods and industrial areas. Luke and Thalia had no plan, no glowing goat to follow anymore. They were bone tired, but neither of them felt like sleeping or stopping. Luke wanted to get as far as possible from that burning mansion. It wasnât the first time theyâd barely escaped with our lives, but they had never succeeded at the expense of another demigodâs life.Â
Thalia suggested heading to their old camp on the James River as they shivered in the cold of the night. It would take at least a day to get there, but it was as good as a plan. The two demigods sat and split a ham sandwich as they ate in silence. The food tasted like cardboard, but they really didnât have a choice. After the last bite, Luke heard a faint metal ping from a nearby alley. Someone was nearby.Â
Luke got up, pulling out the dagger Hal gave him as Thalia had her spear and shield at the ready. The two crept along the wall of the warehouse, turning into a dark alleyway that dead-ended at a loading dock piled with old scrap metal. Just then there was a loud clang, a sheet of corrugated tin quivered on the dock. Somethingâsomeoneâwas underneath. Luke crept toward the loading bay until we stood over the pile of metal, Thalia following closely behind. He gestured for her to hold back as he reached for the piece of corrugated metal and mouthed, One, two, three! As soon as he lifted the sheet of tin, something flew at himâa blur of flannel and dark hair. A hammer hurtled straight at his face.
Things couldâve gone very wrong. Fortunately his reflexes were good from years of fighting. Luke dodged the hammer, then grabbed the little girlâs wrist. The hammer went skidding across the pavement. The little girl struggled. She couldnât have been more than seven years old.
âNo more monsters!â she screamed, kicking Luke in the legs. âGo away!â
âItâs okay!â He tried his best to hold her, but it was like holding a wildcat. Thalia looked too stunned to move. She still had her spear and shield ready.
âThalia,â Luke said. âput your shield away! Youâre scaring her!âÂ
Thalia unfroze. She touched the shield and it shrank back into a bracelet. She dropped her spear. âHey, little girl,â she said, sounding more gentle than heâd ever heard. âItâs all right. Weâre not going to hurt you. Iâm Thalia. This is Luke.â
âMonsters!â the little girl wailed, tears staining her face.Â
âNo,â Luke promised. The poor thing wasnât fighting as hard, but she was shivering, terrified of them. âBut we know about monsters,â Luke explained softly. âWe fight them too.â
Luke held her, more to comfort than restrain now. Eventually she stopped kicking. She felt cold. Her ribs were bony under her flannel pajamas. He wondered how long this little girl had gone without eating. She was even younger than Luke had been when he ran away. Despite her fear, she looked at him with large eyes. They were startlingly gray, beautiful and intelligent. A demigodâno doubt about it. Luke got the feeling she was powerfulâor she would be, if she survived.
âYouâre like me?â she asked, still suspicious, but she sounded a little hopeful, too.
âYeah,â Luke nodded. âWeâreâŠâ he hesitated, not sure if she understood what she was, or if sheâd ever heard the word demigod. Luke didnât want to scare her even worse. âWell, itâs hard to explain, but weâre monster fighters. Whereâs your family?âÂ
The little girlâs expression turned hard and angry. Her chin trembled. âMy family hates me. They donât want me. I ran away.â
Lukeâs heart felt like it was cracking into a million pieces. She had such pain in her voiceâfamiliar pain. Luke looked at Thalia, and made a silent decision right there that they would take care of this kid.
Thalia knelt next to him. She put her hand on the little girlâs shoulder. âWhatâs your name, kiddo?â
âAnnabeth.â
Luke smiled. Heâd never heard that name before, but it was pretty, and it seemed to fit her. âNice name,â he told her. âI tell you what, Annabeth. Youâre pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you.â
Her eyes widened. âYou could?â
âOh, yeah,â Luke said earnestly. Then a sudden thought struck him. He reached for Halâs dagger. It will protect its owner, Hal had said. He had gotten it from the little girl he had saved. Now fate had given them the chance to save another little girl.
âHowâd you like a real monster-slaying weapon?â Luke asked her. âThis is Celestial bronze. Works a lot better than a hammer.â
Annabeth took the dagger and studied it in awe. She was seven years old at most. What was he thinking giving her a weapon? But she was a demigod. They have to defend themselves. Hercules was only a baby when he strangled two snakes in his cradle. By the time Luke was nine, heâd fought for his life more than a dozen times. Annabeth could use a weapon.
âKnives are only for the bravest and quickest fighters,â Luke told her. His voice caught as he remembered Hal Green, and how heâd died to save them. âThey donât have the reach or power of a sword, but theyâre easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemyâs armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling youâre pretty clever.â
Annabeth beamed at him, and for that, all his problems seemed to melt. Luke felt as if heâd done one thing right. He swore to himself that he would never let this girl come to harm. âI am clever!â she said.
Thalia laughed and tousled Annabethâs hair. Just like thatâthey had a new companion. âWeâd better get going, Annabeth,â Thalia said. âWe have a safe house on the James River. Weâll get you some clothes and food.â
Annabethâs smile wavered. For a moment, she had that wild look in her eyes again. âYouâreâŠyouâre not going to take me back to my family? Promise?â
Luke swallowed the lump out of his throat. Annabeth was so young, but sheâd learned a hard lesson, just like he and Thalia had. Their parents had failed them. The gods were harsh and cruel and aloof. Demigods had only each other.
Luke put his hand on Annabethâs shoulder.âYouâre part of our family now. And I promise Iâm not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?â
âDeal!â Annabeth said happily, clutching her new dagger.
Thalia picked up her spear. She smiled at Luke with approval. âNow, come on. We canât stay put for long!â
The trio left Richmond, headed to their safe house on the James River. The three of them fought for survival and avoided monsters together. It wasnât much, but it was home for themâthe family they built.
At some point, Thalia got injured by a monster and Luke and Annabeth wanted to rest. Given the situation, Luke decided to take the girls to his mother's house to treat Thaliaâs wounds and to gather up a few supplies as Annabeth rested. There, Luke finally meets his father, Hermes, for the first time in thirteen years. Luke was angry and resented his father. He demanded to know why he had never shown up when Luke had desperately prayed while he hid from his mother when she had fits, or when he was on his own, running away from monsters. During this conversation, Hermes inadvertently revealed that he knew of Luke's fate. Luke asked about it since Hal had only given him vague answers, but Hermes refused to tell him as he had already said too much. Luke then told his father that he couldn't possibly love him if he wouldn't tell him and angrily left with Thalia and Annabeth.
Eventually they met Grover Underwood, a satyr tasked to bring them back to Camp Half Blood. A safe haven for demigods. A place where monsters and mortals canât come. Grover led the three of them to camp, but it wasnât exactly a walk in the park.
Monsters attacked them from left to right. All three Furies and a pack of Hellhounds attacked, Cyclopes followed, and one thing led to another. Thalia sacrificed herself so Luke and Annabeth could get to camp safely. Luke thought she was stupid to sacrifice herself, he yelled at Thalia to not do it but she was as stubborn as her father. Luke held a crying Annabeth while fighting tears of his own as they entered the barrier between Camp Half Blood and the mortal world, where Thalia breathed her last breath as Zeus turned his daughter into a pine tree.
âDonât worry, Annabeth. I wonât let anyone hurt you.â Luke soothed the young girl in his arms, who mourned the loss of their friendâtheir sister. Luke vowed to himself that he wonât let the gods treat them horribly ever again.Â
MAYA WILLIAMS hated being a half-blood.Â
      Why wouldnât she? Maya grew up alone because she was one. Sure, she wasnât chased by any monsters, but she lived with one. Her fatherâOliver Williamsâdespised his daughter. Why? Her mother left when Maya was born, right after she was born. Oliver blamed his daughter for that. Maya had no clue on who her mother was, or why she left when she was born. When she would ask her father, he would get angry at her and hit her and yell at her to go to her room. There were times that Oliver would leave for daysâweeks, evenâleaving Maya with a nanny and the toys he had bought her just to leave him alone and the occasional visits from his secretary (who pitied the young girl). Maya didnât understand why her father hated her when she only wanted to make her daddy happy.Â
     When Maya was five, she started experiencing strange things. Like white doves flocking near her school that refused to leave how much the exterminators tried. Or that time when her grandparents brought her to the beach and dolphins started swimming towards her. Or that time when she was at the park and swans approached her as she fed the birds with her nanny. As a child, Maya didnât pay it too much attention. She only thought that animals liked her so much that they couldnât leave her alone. But when she turned eight, she knew she was different. Apart from having dyslexia and ADHD, she had this aura of beauty, causing everyone to like her, want her even. Aside from that, Maya could ask anyone for anything she wanted and she would get it. Like that time when her grandmother took her out to shop for clothes when she saw a pretty dollhouse that she wanted. It wasnât because she was spoiled or anything, but when she would ask anyone out on the street for anything, theyâd give it to herâno questions asked.
When Maya was six, she heard her father one night drunk in his room, crying over her mother. It was weird for Maya to see her father crying without any cameras because he was an actor, so as a curious little girl, Maya peeked into his room. She saw her father, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a photo in the other, which Maya assumed was her mother.
âOh, Aphrodite, why did you have to leave me?â Oliver sobbed, titling the glass to his lips. âYou left me with nothing! You left me alone to raiseââÂ
Maya ran to her room before she even heard the rest of what her father said. She packed a bag of clothes, grabbed food from the pantry, medical supplies in the bathroom, and money from her dadâs office before running away from home and never looking back. Maya wasnât stupid. For six long years her father made it clear that he never loved her, therefore she was doing him a favor by leaving. But she understood something. Her motherâs name was Aphrodite. Her mother was the goddess of love. How did a six year old understand that? She didnât know. It just clicked in Mayaâs headâthe doves, the dolphins, the swans, were somehow enough to prove that the goddess was her mother.
Maya ran through the streets of New Hampshire as fast as her little legs could carry her, determined to be as far as possible from the place she once called home. She thought it would be easy, like what sheâd seen once on tv, but it wasn'tâit was far worse than anything she had ever seen. Maya didnât know what else to do. She didnât have anywhere else to go. She couldnât go to her grandparents, they were in Europe. Maya never felt so alone, living by herself in a world not built for little kids, especially a kid like her.Â
Eventually, Maya got the hang of being on the run. By the second month, she was living from state to state, asking for helpâusing her charmâto get by. From time to time, the thought of her father would cross her mind. Was he looking for her? Was he worried for her? Did he miss her? Maya wanted nothing more than to have her fatherâs love, she wanted him to find herâto wrap her in his arms and tell her he missed her and he was sorry for making her feel unloved, but she knew better than to expect that. Maya watched fathers with their little girls, wondering what she did to deserve a father like the one she hadâa father so careless enough to let his own child believe that she wasnât loved and run away from home at seven years old. She couldnât understand how he hurt a little kid, his own kid.
And then there was the thought of her mother. It was ironic, how Maya was a daughter of the goddess of love and a man whoâs incapable of loving. Maya wondered if it was some sort of joke, that sheâd been born to parents who didnât care about her. Or maybe her mother just didnât think she was pretty enough to be worthy of being her child. It didnât matter, because she was all aloneâher mother never answered her prayers and pleas, proving all of her points. Maya was all on her own, she always had been. The happy little girl was gone, replaced by a little girl terrified by everything the cruel world tossed at her.
At seven years old, Maya has told a million liesâthat came from her mother, probablyâjust to survive. Her clothes were tattered, flaming locks of auburn hair were matted and dirty, and skin bruised like violets from tripping as she ran away from creepy older men who tried to follow her. Maya had been on the run for two years, she had everything under control. She shoplifted from convenience stores and whenever she was caught, Maya would tell them that she lost her parents (which was true, in a sense) and had nowhere else to go. It worked like a charm each and every time, well except for that one time she ran into the police. Maya dreamed of living in peace, a place where she could be just a kid and not having to think where sheâd sleep for the night or where sheâd get her next meal. Given the state of how she was living, Maya knew it was impossible and maybe she had to learn to live with the miserable life she had. It was then that she held a grudge at her parents. Maya was tired of believing her parents ever loved her, because someone who loves you wouldnât do any of this. Theyâre just the ones who gave her life, nothing more.
Maya promised to herself that she wouldnât let anyone hurt her again, that sheâd never be naive enough to believe that anyone could ever love her.
At eight years old, Maya met Ferdinandâa satyr who had sensed that Maya was a half blood. At first, Maya was scared. Of course sheâd be scared, she was still a little girl and Ferdinand looked a lot older than herâshe didnât have great experiences with people older than herâand he had goat horns and legs.Â
âDonât be scared, little one. I am a friend,â Ferdinand had explained to Maya, who hid behind a large trash can in an alley.
âGo away! I donât wanna be friends!â Maya screamed, clutching her fraying backpack close to her chest.
âI can take you to a safer place, little one. A place where no one could hurt you.â Ferdinand explained, taking a step closer to the crying young girl. âI sense that you have been hurt before, am I right?â
Maya didnât want to believe him. He was a stranger and strangers meant trouble. But something about the goat man felt safe. âI donât wanna go to your stupid place! Leave me alone!â
âWhatâs your name?â Ferdinand asked, peering over the trash can.
Maya hesitated, tears streaming down her cheeks. âNot telling.â
âAlright, Iâll go first,â Ferdinand took the risk of walking to Mayaâs side. âIâm Ferdinand. I am a satyr, protector of young demigods, or half bloods as they call children of the gods. And you are?â
Maya looked at him, eyes still glazed over with fresh tears. âMaya.â
âWell, young Maya, are you hungry?â
Maya shook her head no, but the grumble of stomach betrayed her. âHungry,â she mumbled.Â
âIf youâd like, you can come with me to that convenience store just âround the corner.â Ferdinand smiled at her, a kind genuine smile that Maya had never seen before in any other person sheâs met. Reluctantly, she agreed, keeping her distance as Ferdinand led the way. Maya looked around, wondering how people are not looking at Ferdinand. He literally had goat legs and horns yet no oneâs looking at him like an animal.
As soon as Maya was settled with a sandwich and juice box, she asked Ferdinand. âWhy arenât people scared of you, Mr. Ferdinand?â
Ferdinand chuckled. âItâs because of the Mist, young Maya.âÂ
Maya raised a brow. âThe Mist? Like perfume?â
âThe Mist is what separates the mortal world from our world.â
Maya looked at him as if he was crazy. âWhat do you mean? Donât we have one world?âÂ
âLet me take you to Camp Half Blood, little one. Everything will make sense once you arrive.âÂ
âWhy should I go with you?â Maya asked, gripping the straps of her backpack, ready to run at any second.
âBecause,â Ferdinand chuckled, acknowledging Mayaâs skepticism. âThere are kids like you at Camp Half Blood. It is a safe haven for young half-bloods like you. It is where the gods claim their children, young Maya.â
âYouâre not lying?â Maya asked, big green eyes searching for any malice in the satyrâs eyes. She has had enough from malicious men who wanted to do unspeakable things to her. There was once this man who tried to lure her in with a good meal. When Maya declined, he tried to grab her, luckily Maya escapedâwith the help of a little foot stomping and biting. It only fueled her hatred of men.
âIâm not, young Maya.â Ferdinand smiled at her. âIt is our duty to protect. I promise I will not let any harm come to you as we travel to camp.â
âYou promise?â Promises were never good, Maya hated promises. Promises were always meant to be broken. But this one felt like a tug in her heart, like a way to find who she was.Â
âOn the River Styx, young one.âÂ
Maya didnât understand what the River Styx meant. Was it a river full of sticks? Despite her worries, Maya trusted him. The two then traveled to Long Island on foot from Massachusetts. Maya learned to trust Ferdinand, who kept her safe no matter what.
âYou know, I have a nephew thatâs around your age. His name is Grover, a fine protector in the making. He could be your friend once you arrive at camp.â Ferdinand mused as he and Mayaâaboard his shouldersâtrudged up the highway nearing Half Blood Hill.Â
âReally? You think heâs gonna play with me? An orphan-âÂ
âYou are not an orphan, Maya. You have a mother. Iâm sure sheâd claim you as soon as you step through the barrier.â Ferdinand insisted. Maya doubted that, but decided against voicing out her thoughts. She had prayed and prayed for so long, but her mother never answered, so why would she? Now that Maya was finally at camp?
As soon as Maya arrived at Camp Half Blood, she was in aweâgiddy, almost. It wasnât what Maya expected it to be. Camp was beautiful, far from the dumpster Maya had thought it to be. Every camper had necklaces, with beads indicating the years theyâve been at campâMaya wanted one so badly and tried asking Ferdinand to make her one. There was a strawberry patchâmuch to Mayaâs excitement, she loves strawberries and wanted to go straight to the patches. And for the main attraction, the twelve cabins, which Maya assumed one was her motherâs since Ferdinand had explained it was for each of the Olympian gods.Â
Maya was then welcomed by a crowdâcampers of all ages, a grumbling man in a Hawaiian shirt, and half horse, half man.
âWelcome, young demigod,â Chiron greeted the young girl who was looking up at him with wide eyes. Itâs not everyday that she sees another half human animal.Â
âUh, what are you?â Maya asked, her hand immediately went flying to her mouth. âSorry, I-âÂ
Chiron laughed. âItâs alright, I apologize for not introducing myself properly. Iâm Chiron, a centaur and the activities director of camp. And you are, young lady?â
âMaya,â she squeaked, eyes still wide. âMaya Williams.â
âWelcome to Camp, Maya. Youâll do great things, I know it.â
Suddenly, there was a collective gasp. Everyone stared at Maya like sheâd just done something wrong.Â
âWhat did I do?â Maya asked, her lower lip trembling. She had been at camp barely a day, and she had already done something wrong. Was everything in her life always going to go wrong?Â
âLook down,â One of the campers said, pointing to Mayaâs clothes.Â
Maya looked down and her eyes widened once more, she looked different. Her clothes weren't tattered and filthy anymore. Now, she was wearing a beautiful white sleeveless gown that went down to her ankles. Delicate gold armbands circled her biceps. An intricate necklace of amber, coral, and gold flowers glittered on her chest, and her hair was perfect: lush and long and flaming locks of auburn hair, braided to the side with gold ribbons. The filthy child, goneâas if she never was. Her mother had claimed her, just like that. Maya had been expecting that her mother would personally come and claim her, but she didnât. Maya shouldâve known better than to expect a literal goddess to come down and meet her child.
Chiron folded his front legs and bowed to her, and all the campers followed his example. âHail, Amaya Williams,â Chiron announced proudly, as if she did something honorable. âDaughter of Aphrodite, lady of the doves, goddess of love!â
friendly reminder: this is how small maya was when she ran away đ€
taglist:
@mischiefmoons (special mention to jo cuz i love love love trouble!verse đŻđ) @iliketopgun @pleasingregulus
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cold little kisses ; yandere!singer x reader
summary: Omar's love knows no bounds.
warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!
a/n: I LOVE @oncomingnight 's OCs to BITS, but Omar has been haunting me for DAYS. OP if you're reading this, hi!! Quick question; is the man in the original post like someone someone? âCause he now comes to mind whenever I think of him âđŒđ Hope you don't mind me giving this sweetheart a go! á ( á )á
'But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.' ;
Smut includes: unprotected sex (p in v), cockwarming, slight teasing & marking, drools & sweat, body worship, soft!dom!Omar!
Omar believed you were God's gift at its purest form, and to be the luckiest son of a gun when you bestowed before him that very day?
Absolute miracle.
There was no way he could have wiped the lovestruck smile off his face every morning, waking up to you in your most vulnerable.
The extravagant sight of Quebec was already a treat as it was, enjoying the spot with his wife was another. He was more than content to watch you marvel at the snowy night, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as the snowflakes fell on you like an extraordinary being blessing the Earth, but that would be unceremonious of him.
âOmar, look.â You gasped for the umpteenth time tonight, bending down at the line of the nation's quintessential souvenirs, handcrafted in ways that would surely grab the attention of first-time tourists. Those familiar with the renowned singer were kind enough to leave him and his beloved be, going only as far as taking a picture of the two from a distance to share on their social media later and rake in OMGs or any other forms of awe.
That, and many were smart enough to stay away, having witnessed the more intimidating side of him online at the mere mention of you in manners that never sat right with him.
âWould you like that one?â He asked, his deep voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.
âOmar, we already have so much.â You raised the bags in your hands, plus motioning to the majority that he had offered to hold. Brows furrowing a little in a way that you feel guilty that he has to play tour guide for you, no matter how many times you have visited.
âWell, who else is going to beautify our new bookshelf, if not you?â He chuckled, languidly walking over to stand next to you. He briefly surveyed the souvenirs through the glass, only for his eyes to flit towards you within seconds, prompting your face to burn, despite the chilly air hitting you, âWe're buying it.â
Omar ducking his head was a telltale sign of him wanting to steal a kiss, but rather than feeling his lips on yours, he pecked the cold tip of your nose. Embarrassed by the affectionate display in public, you hid your face in his chest, your giggles vibrating through him.
That didn't stop him from showering you with more, planting kisses after kisses on the top of your head while he rested his free hand on the small of your back.
But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.
Your eyes were brimming with tears, glassy to the point where you couldn't pinpoint the nature on the other side of the window beyond silhouettes. Your mind was no better, your brain already in the midst of turning mush in favour of him prodding your cervix.
He cooed at you, akin to a delicate flower if not for the way one of his hands gripped at your ass tightly. Blunt nails leaving marks for him to appreciate in the next sunrise. His other hand lightly held the back of your head, leaving you no choice but to stare back at him in a drunken haze.
Omar welcomed your drools and tears dripping down his chest, occasionally leaving damp marks on his shirt, all unbuttoned but barely removed from his shoulders. The half-disheveled look on him was a sight to behold, the oh-so-put-together-singer nowhere to be seen.
You felt full, and you were full, the stretch around him evident when bouncing you up and down his cock required his aid. You would've fallen back or sagged in his arms if not for his own holding you snug against his chest. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't seconds away from losing himself into the feeling eitherâfalling back into the velvet seat with one arm around you, chest heaving in shallow breaths and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.
His body akin to a Greek God, created to worship his one and only with loyalty, riches and silk, and protect you from the dangers of humanity alone, or even the unforgiving weather that occured beyond the safety of his luxurious cabin.
Lost in the way you squeezed him each time he rolled his hips, he surged forward, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled tits. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face further into your breasts as he shamelessly looked up at you through his lashes.
âOmarâŠâ You hiccuped, brushing your lips against his forehead, moving your hips when he stilled you for a moment. It felt sickly sweet. something only he had the privilege ofâof your body and soul, âMove, pleaseâŠâ
He couldn't say no to you, not now, not ever, even if he wanted nothing more than to listen to your pretty voice and hold you real close.
So long your lips, your mind, your youâcould do nothing more than reciprocate his own desires, he'd only stop at his own expense when hell freezes over.
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» Bonus HC from the train pic on OP's post:
I love the thought of Omar, with his reading glasses as he writes the lyrics of his upcoming song on a journal and casually drinks his coffee. But he's also watching his beloved play a one-player card game in front of him with a warm smile. UGH.
» deadass could not help it. this is one of those 'if I don't do something about it, no matter how short or quick it is, I'll sure as hell think about it for a LONG time.' ksjslsksls ;; tagging @firefly-graphics for the gorgeous divider âĄ
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