My Camp Half Blood Oc ^_^

THIS IS SOOO CRAYZ GUYS THIS IS SO CRAZY

the last days of judas iscariot — luke castellan + reader : betrayal hurts the saints the most. 

tags : mdni, dark!luke, angry kissing, religious imagery & symbolism, body worship, angst and smut, love confessions, p in v sex, corruption kinks, implied blood kink, hints of cannibalism

there was something off about luke castellan. 

he used to be caring, sweet and selfless— he did everything for the people around them, offered them smiles even if it was difficult on his lips, did anything to ease their pain, built himself up into a saint. but eventually, saints will fall, whether it be their own doing, or a martyrdom. 

this was no martyrdom, he was not crucified, strung up on an olive tree, nor stoned. 

this was a conscious decision that nobody else, besides his own self, would understand. it was so, so unlike him, luke was never one to betray the people around him, well, at least he didn’t portray himself that way. if you really knew luke, you’d know how much he hated the gods, he felt as though he was a despicable creation of theirs, and he’ll return the same despising looks. 

but the story starts days before that, luke was as he always was. he offered you a smile from across the training field, and you returned it full - heartedly, waving at him. he moves to approach you, ignoring his sparring partner, “hey, do you need a partner?” 

you glance around for a second, “don’t you already have one?” 

his lips curve to a smirk, “i’d rather be with you.” 

luke castellan had a thing for flirting with you, even if he was just being a tease, and didn’t entirely mean what he said— sometimes you thought he didn’t, or he never did, but in all honesty, he meant everything. 

he admired you beyond proper comprehension, and you did the same with him. having been friends for years, it was no shock when your gazes would linger on each other for longer than they should, when he would do anything to make you smile even if it costs him his reputation. 

on the first day, luke was as he always was, confident, grinning and sweet. 

then the second day came, and luke’s smiles began to fade faster, he looked more tired, there was a certain mournful air that clung to his skin and radiated off of him. you picked up on it immediately, frowning at him and pulling him off to the side even when he was busy, “are you okay?” 

“what?” his saliva feels thick in his mouth, like globs of nectar that feel poisonous underneath their sweet skin. 

“i said— luke, what’s going on?“ you can’t deny how he seems to be out of order on everything, he was even fighting angrier, too, with a revengeful glint in his eye. 

“i really, really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“yes, you do.” 

and it only got weirder from there, on the third day, he looked straight up exhausted, like he hadn’t slept the past two nights, and now he was being told to take a break from sword fighting because of how rough he was being. smiles were common from him now but cut off quick, and laughs became rare. he wasn’t trying to make anyone else around him smile or laugh, and he always just looked angry, guilty angry. 

when you waved at him, he didn’t wave back, nor approach you. 

he didn’t want to speak to anyone, so he just didn’t talk. 

he’s suffering from something, you just don’t know what, and whenever you asked him, he shrugged it off with, “i’m just tired.” 

“i know, you look really tired, luke, do you need melatonin?” 

his teeth grit together, and the taste of nectar in his mouth had disappeared, now it was all just bitter poison, “i need to be left alone.” 

“luke—“ 

“please leave me be.” 

if anyone were to ask you now, they’d know you regret leaving that night, not forcing him to speak about it with you. the next night, another camper told you about what luke had done, and you hate the way you don’t feel entirely shocked, not even a little bit, not even at all. 

luke castellan had a fig tree branching out in front of him, so many possibilities, so many stories to be told, and yet his fingers wrapped around the only rotten fruit on the whole ripe tree. two thousand years ago, there was a man exactly like luke, one who went by the name judas, and in luke’s complete distaste of the bible and anything to do with it— he found himself undeniably following the same path of the man who betrayed jesus. 

“ i desire the things

that will destroy me

in the end ”

  — sylvia plath. 

it was a bad idea to seek out luke that night, you knew it well, and luke knew it too when he frowned at you almost immediately after seeing you. he was still in the woods, only alone now, closer to the shore, closer to the riper fig that called his name— the one labeled captain. 

“why are you here?“ his tone is sharper, harsher, but you don’t shy away. 

“why’d you do it?” you watch him visibly swallow at the question, as if he doesn’t want to answer it, even when it’s on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason it would hurt to say out loud. 

he bites the bullet, “you know— the gods, they’re awful, don’t you think they deserve this?“ 

“is that where your heart lies?” the question seems to scorch his skin more than the last, because it’s just a continuous waking to what he’s truly done, how the prophecy haunts him even in his desperate attempts to evade it. 

“i’ve suffered enough, because of them, because of him— so yes, that is where it lies.” 

“you think your suffering is just a one way street?” you pester, anger bubbling in your veins— this was selfish, entirely selfish, he was never the selfless man you once knew, this wasn’t the luke you knew, “it’s not, it wasn’t— you had the chance, luke, to deprive yourself from it.” 

“are you just here to lecture me?” luke’s jaw locks. 

“why are you being like this?” 

luke’s eyebrow twitches, as if he’s mentally debating saying it out loud, but albeit all odds, his lips part, “why don’t you ask that guy you’ve been hanging out with?” 

“what?” it’s hard to realize certain things when you’ve been so focused on one person, you were so caught up on your fears for luke you didn’t even realize that the whole time you were thinking of him, you were blatantly speaking with another man in front of his eyes. 

to the trained eye, they’d know you never had any real feelings for the man you spoke with, but luke was too blinded by his own guilt and resentment that he didn’t realize it himself. it was a wild string of miscommunications formed into a single spider’s web, exactly like judas’ betrayal of jesus. 

INTERLUDE : JUDAS ISCARIOT ( A STUDY ) 

judas iscariot is often portrayed as the traitor in the story, fueled by greed and his resentment that jesus has something he never will. in the original story, judas is put in the narrative as satan’s pawn, judas’ fate is already written down, and he has no way of pushing it back. satan selects him from a group as he is weak, easily moved, and satan had possessed him body and soul and lived out his personal purpose through the vessel. 

the son of perdition : the one doomed to destruction. 

god personally protected all of his other saints from satan, so why not judas? why was judas never enough? was he never righteous enough to be saved? jesus loved him, jesus held his face in his holy hands, and yet he never shielded him. 

judas is a pawn, a thief, a coward, and a denier of the lord. 

judas, in all fairness, is the spitting image of luke castellan. 

“is it ever anybody else, luke?” 

as if arrow met skin, luke’s brows furrow together like you’ve hit him. 

there’s a pause, a deafening silence. 

“i miss you,” you speak again. 

luke’s nose crinkles, “uh-huh.” 

“i miss you, luke.” 

luke castellan is going to hell tonight, he’s going to be scorched in the underworld, so he bites his tongue and he moves in. the kiss is angry, teeth clashing, tongues twisting, lips bruising, but luke wouldn’t want it any other way. he wonders that if, in this kiss, do you forgive him? having been someone praised by the gods, the favored one, did you forgive the one who seemingly betrayed them to most? 

the kiss says how could you? and i’m sorry at the exact same time. 

his hands are quick to grip on your skin like you were his lifeline, tugging you in closer, and smiling against your lips when you melt into his touch so easily. you knew how cruel of a man he was, all the things he did wrong, all the people he had hurt— and yet you’re easing against him like he’s a saint. 

his teeth show his hunger well, nipping at your lip until you hiss and pull away with blood bubbling from a fresh wound. at first, he wants to smile, but he finds some mercy, moving his hand to hold your chin, thumb smudging the blood, “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to, swear.” 

you knew he was lying, you knew he wanted to see you bleed, he liked the way your skin trembled under his touch, the way that even when shock dilates your pupils— you don’t want to pull away from him. in fact, something about it is oddly attractive to you, how sick is that. 

his other hand grips your waist, fingers curling cruelly, “could i..” 

undress you? touch you? luke isn’t sure of the proper words, they sit on the tip of his tongue, but something has him too afraid to say it so bluntly. that’s ironic, considering he didn’t hesitate to steal and lie. luke was still the loser he’s always been, deep down, he’s never known how to actually speak to women. 

you knew this well, it was something you always made fun of him for, but now you only smile sweetly at him. “of course, luke.” 

luke’s hands are desperate when they move to take off your clothes, quick and ruthless, but still so caring at the same time. it was confusing with luke, everything he did had two different sides that would merge together in an unlikely unison. harsh and gentle, bitter and sweet, mean and kind. 

his brows furrow when he dips in, pressing his lips to the skin of your neck, pushing you back into the scratching bark of the tree behind you. adam and eve, right after the bites of the apple offered to them. luke wants to sink his teeth into you, to bite until he draws blood, to devour you whole and call you his. 

that’s… normal, right? 

he doesn’t care, he’s only focused on the shallow breaths that pass by your lips with every scrape of his teeth on the skin being pulled between his lips. his fingers lead themselves further, dipping below the waistband of your underwear and further until you’re gasping and gripping at his wrist. 

“luke.. luke,” you plead, whimpering out for his fingers to have some mercy on your clit— luke ignores you, focused on the pleasure that’s coursing underneath your skin. he memorizes the thump of your pulse against his lips on your neck, the way it speeds up when his fingers dare to graze your entrance. you want it so bad, and it’s taking everything in luke to not be a cocky asshole about it. 

he eventually pulls away from your neck to admire his work, “have you always wanted me to touch you like this?” 

there’s something so poetic about someone who has betrayed the gods you love the most, ruining you. you truly could be awarded for how much you worshiped them, so unlike to everyone around you. they thought their parents were like anybody else, albeit just a little cooler, but you— you felt like a prophet. 

maybe you were, maybe luke was. 

maybe when the oracle whispered the prophecy she mentioned the fall of a saint, and the way he tugged another down with him. 

you look at him fondly, lips parted and puffy from biting, “always.. please.” 

please ; a simple plea, but it makes luke grin like a devil. his eyes follow your hands when you move to undo his belt, tugging at his jeans as if his fingers aren’t making your knees buckle. luke licks his lips, and finally allows you some mercy when his fingers leave your underwear, although you frown from the loss of friction. “i’ll make it up to you, yeah?” 

luke’s boxers and jeans are falling to the floor in seconds, he stifles a chuckle at your shocked expression to his size, only growing cockier and cockier with each second of this ordeal. it reaches it’s peak when he’s pushing into you, hand on your thigh holding up your leg with ease. 

his nose brushes against your cheek, whispering sweet nothings in between faint grunts with each thrust. you’re so pretty, always dreamed of this, better pray the gods aren’t watching. the last comment should piss you off, but it doesn’t, not at all— in fact, it only makes you wetter, the idea that the people you have given everything for are watching you being fucked by someone who despises them. 

his free hand moves up to your neck, wrapping around the bruised skin there, and gripping it enough to barely constrict your air flow. 

due to the choking, and the force of his thrusts, along with all his taunting words, it doesn’t take long for you to cum on his dick— and he doesn’t last long either. 

he finds himself panting against you, slowly pushing out. 

“you really should pray for forgiveness.” 

remus lupin is a cat stuck in a wolfs body

he’s so sigma

Hey! I was just wondering what your rules were when it comes to request? I couldn’t find much on it

no rules! just preferably no incest lol

gonna need a part two RN

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.

warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)

genre: ...romcom?

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.

You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.

A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on day 6, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.

Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.

“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”

In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.

Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.

“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.

“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Maybe a little more pink, too.”

‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”

“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams, maybe?”

“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”

“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.

He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”

“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”

Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.

“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”

“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.

“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”

He shook his head.

“You are insufferable!” You groaned.

“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."

His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.

“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.

He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.

“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.

You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.

“Go shoot.” He grinned.

“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”

“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.

“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.

“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"

Again, Luke just shrugs his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.

As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.

“Duck!” You yell.

The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.

“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.

“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”

He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?

For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.

“I think I managed to hit Luke—”

“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.

You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?

He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.

“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.

“i can’t stand you”

“then sit on my face” WHATTT THATS SO CRAZYYYY 😍 I WOULD NEVERRRR 😉

ATHENA’S GIRL. luke (pjo) / pt 2

trailer > part 1 > part 2

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Chaos endures on the trio’s trip to Camp Half-Blood and Luke learns that Y/N isn’t as tough as she projects herself to be. Upon finally arriving at camp, Y/N is met with a pleasant surprise when Athena claims her on the spot.

“

Warning : LONG chapter

—

Athena had one goal in life; to create a dazzling warrior who would be worthy of calling themselves her golden child. She moulded her kids into the people she wanted them to be but they often strayed from her ideals, only disappointing her. Perhaps her biggest success in life was designing Y/N.

She was such a brilliantly bright teenager with a natural knack for fighting, using her prior learnt skills from numerous sports classes (all compulsory at her school). Athena liked to call Y/N her pride and joy. Or, she would’ve if she didn’t notice the fondness forming between Y/N and a certain Hermes son.

Y/N lay asleep on the train, resting her head in a pillow she had found in one of the compartments. Luke and Chris sat across from her, impatiently tapping their feet.

“Psst.” Luke whispered, nudging his friend, “You wanna check out the food cart?” Chris turned to stare at Luke, slight frowning.

“She told us to stick together.” He muttered back, gesturing over to Y/N who was quietly murmuring in her sleep.

“She’ll be fine. We’ll be quick anyway. By the time she wakes up, we’ll be back.” Luke reassured Chris, ushering him towards the door. The two Hermes boys silently shuffled out of the small room and walked down the hallway, following the smell of food.

Y/N turned on her side, resting her head against the back of the plush seat. She groaned, half conscious yet still half asleep. Everything was a blurred daze as she slipped back into an unconscious state, ending up in a barren desert.

The H/C-haired girl looked around, confused and a little shaken. She quickly pinched her arm and winced when she felt a twinge of pain. “Where am I?” She whispered to herself, yet her voice echoed.

The sand beneath her feet rumbled and twirled around her, forming a hurricane. Y/N panted in panic as grains of debris threatened to hit her eyes. She turned her head to shield her face until the sand finally dropped to the ground again, revealing a beautiful and grand hall.

The walls were pure white with delicate golden details. If Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d think this was what first class would have looked on the Titanic ship. Or what was portrayed in the movies, at least.

“Do you like it, my dear?”

Y/N spun around at the sound of a silky, feminine voice. A tall woman sat on a marble carved throne, resting her elbows on the sides. She smiled at Y/N. Her skin was pale, almost ghostly looking, and her brown eyes held warmth within them. She brushed a lock of long, shiny raven hair aside.

“I know how much you wanted to see the inside of the Titanic.” She spoke again, crossing one leg over the other. “Come closer, don’t be shy, my love.” She beckoned Y/N forward.

The H/C-nette slowly stepped towards the goddess. “Who… are you?” She asked when she finally stood not a meter away.

“I’m your mother, dear.”

The more Y/N looked at the woman, the more she saw their similarities. Although Y/N’s hair wasn’t as glossy as her’s, their sharp facial features still held the same stony gaze and their heights reflected one another.

“Why am I here?” Y/N carefully asked, her eyes darting around to stare the crystal chandelier.

“I’ve been watching you, my love. You’re a wonderfully talented girl gifted with such academic skill.” The deity let a small laugh slip past her red lips, “But I must warn you, do be careful on what you choose in life. Not everything is as it seems.”

Y/N sent her mother a confused look. She could decode complicated English written in her beloved books but she couldn’t understand what the goddess was telling her.

“You are still a young girl, Y/N.” Finally, Athena rose. She stood before Y/N in all her beautiful glory. “I understand that the topic of love may plague your mind and hide your true goals from you. But is it worth choosing a boy over high education and your academic studies?”

Y/N was slowly piecing everything together. “Is this…” She spoke softly as she trailed off, “Is this about Luke? Because I don’t like him. Not at all.”

“I didn’t mention a name, dear. You came up with that one on your own. Don’t let a boy cloud your judgment, especially not a Hermes son. They are as tricky as they are mischievous.”

Athena pulled Y/N into a sudden hug that seemed a little too tight to be friendly. Y/N struggled to breathe while Athena rested her chin on her daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t forget the lessons I’ve taught you.” She whispered, “I designed you to be perfect and I’ll be damned if I let a Hermes boy of all people ruin my greatest achievement.”

She spoke so gently but there was a dark edge to her voice; a twisted and wicked side to her beauty that Y/N had failed to notice before. “If you ever forget your purpose, I’ll be sure to remind you.”

Her voice faded as Y/N’s dream began to disappear. Her surroundings floated away like watercolour paint bleeding into thick paper until Y/N found herself sprawled on the couch and Luke and Chris nowhere to be seen.

She groaned as she sat up, her groggy eyes stinging from the bright sun. “Ugh, where did they go?” She muttered to herself as she peeked through the door. She yelped when something suddenly crashed. The floor shook and the train came to an abrupt halt.

“Attention passengers, we seem to be having a few problems with the engine. It’ll be up and running again in at least an hour.” The conductor chimed through the speaker.

Y/N cautiously opened the door, coming face to face with Luke. She frowned as she pulled the pair of demigods inside. “You can’t sneak off like that!” She hissed, “We’re not in vacation, you know that, right?”

“Relax, writer. We were just getting by food.” Luke handed her a squished sandwich, “Besides, I don’t think there’s any monsters on this train.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be close to catching up. We have to keep moving.” Y/N locked the door and closed the blinds, concealing what she was about to do next. She picked up her spear, which seemed to take the form of a weapon at the most convenient times, and smashed it into the window.

The plastic glass broke away in shards, falling to the ground. Luke and Chris gaped at her. “Let’s go.” She demanded, picking up all her stuff.

“Remind me never to mess with her.” Chris mumbled to Luke as they jumped out the window. They stayed low but everybody on the train was too busy gossiping about the engine to notice a trio of teens run into a forest.

“It feels like we’re walking in circles.” Luke groaned while Y/N huffed in annoyance.

“That’s because you are. You’ve been walking around that tree stump for the past ten minutes.” She snapped. The group had sat down to rest and Luke took it as his chance to get on Y/N’s nerves again. He chuckled.

"Camp shouldn't be too far." Chris said, looking around. Though, he wasn't too sure. He was merely saying that to calm Y/N's nerves.

"We should keep moving. Better safe than sorry." Y/N stood up, forcing Luke to finally stop circling around the stump.

"But I'm so tired." Luke complained, whining like a man child.

"Well, I guess you'll have to accept being a dragon's snack then." Y/N snapped, furrowing her brows in frustration. Luke and Chris shared a look.

"She's in charge." Chris exclaimed, not wanting to be the tiebreaker. Luke groaned but begrudgingly followed after Y/N.

“As long as we follow the train tracks, we should be fine.” Y/N piped up.

“That’s going to be hard then.” Luke pointed up ahead where the tracks mysteriously disappeared. All that was left was a singular stick of wood. “The monsters are becoming smarter.”

As if on a cue, a shrill laugh cut through the tense forest. Y/N’s head darted up to see a woman with large, eagle-like wings. Her sharp eyes landed on Y/N first. “Just who I’ve been looking for.” She uttered with a piercing voice. She dove below the trees, outstretching a clawed hand to grasp Y/N. Luke quickly stepped in front, swinging his sword at the harpy.

“Give me the girl and I’ll let you be on your way.” The harpy chittered, clumsily landing and circling around Y/N. Luke followed the actions of the monster, narrowing his eyes.

“Why her? If anything, I’m the most valuable member here.” Luke quickly replied. On the sidelines, Chris brandished his sharp sword, watching the harpy carefully.

“Oh, you don’t know what you have in your possession, my dear boy. She’s not merely a girl. She’s valuable.” An unsettled grin pulled at the harpy’s lips. “Just give her to me and I’ll”- The creature was cut off by Chris slicing one of her wings. Luke leapt forward as well, expertly cutting her in places he knew wouldn’t kill her solely to torture her.

“I’m finishing my quest so unfortunately, I can’t give you her.” Luke spat as the harpy tried to dodge his swift attacks.

“What if I told you Hermes would finally see you again?” Her words made Luke freeze. He stared at her in shock, lips parted like he wanted to say something.

Chris was shoving everything into his bag, getting ready to make a run for it as soon as Luke was snapped out of his trance. He grabbed Y/N. “We have to go.” He said but Y/N was stubborn.

“You want me?” She asked, stepping forward with only her glowing spear in hand. The harpy’s eyes flickered to her and she harshly pushed Luke aside.

“Your confidence will be your undoing, girl.” The harpy hissed. “Can you even use that weapon?”

Y/N mockingly shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, I took down a dragon but maybe that was a lucky shot.” The harpy wasn’t able to react before the spear stabbed through her stomach. Realising she had made a terrible mistake of underestimating Y/N, all the monster could do was scream as she faded away.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked Luke, who was still kneeled on the floor.

He scoffed. “I’m fine. I didn’t need you to save me.”

Y/N stared at him in disbelief, “What? I was trying to help!”

“Yeah? Well, stop showing off. For the record, I’m easily capable of taking down a dragon and harpy too. You aren’t special.” Luke glared into Y/N’s eyes and she returned his harsh gaze, “Don’t let your arrogance cloud your mind.” The Hermes boy was so close that Y/N could smell his fading cologne.

She was the first to look away in annoyance. “I never said you couldn’t slay those monsters.”

“Yeah, well you thought it then!” Luke exclaimed as Y/N walked off, getting a head start.

“Dude.” Chris finally spoke, “I thought you were like a chick magnet.”

“I believe in being nice to women but her even breathing air annoys me.” Luke grumbled before he jogged after Y/N.

“Haven’t we already passed that rock?” Y/N questioned after an hour of walking.

“I’ve never seen that rock in my life.” Luke snapped back. Somewhere along the dull trip, he had gotten to the front and was now leading the group.

“We passed it on the train.” Y/N uttered as Luke’s gaze began to wander and landed on a nearby building. “And if the train passed it, then that means”- Luke cut Y/N off.

“We’re going the wrong way.” Luke finished. Y/N took a deep breath to calm her agitation. “The harpy must’ve been sent to confuse us.” Luke quickly turned to Y/N.

“You went the wrong way!” They shouted in unison, pointing and pinning the blame on each other. Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t blame me!” She exclaimed, slapping his shoulder.

“This is your fault! You walked off first!”

“And you kept walking! You idiot!”

“Don’t call me an idiot! You… you… manipulative, psycho bitch!”

“Are you sure you’re yelling that at the right person?!”

“No! I got it off Gossip Girl! Percy watches it!”

“Who is Percy?!”

Chris pushed his way between Y/N and Luke, shoving them apart. “Guys! It’s only an hour setback! We can get back on the train!”

“The train tracks are missing, genius!” Y/N turned on him.

“We’ll take another train.” Chris replied.

“The next train is in an hour!” Luke added.

“You guys fight and back each other up like a married couple! Make up your mind!” When Chris was getting frustrated now. Y/N groaned to blow off some steam.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” She said once she calmed down, “We’re going to catch the next train and we stay low until it arrives. Once we’re on the train, we go to our compartment as quickly as possible and we don’t leave until the train stops. Got it?” Y/N sternly stared at the two boys. They silently nodded.

“Don’t make eye contact with anyone.” Y/N warned, fiddling with the tickets.

“You’re going to rip them. Give them here.” Luke snatched the tickets from her, safely shoving it into his pocket.

“So, what about food?” Chris questioned, “We have to eat something on the train.”

“I preordered our meals. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“And you didn’t ask us? What if we don’t like it?” It seemed like Luke’s goal in life was to frustrate Y/N. And it worked every time.

“Train food is better than plane food.” She grumbled, “If you don’t like it then suck it up, you big baby. Nobody cares about your opinion.”

“You wound me, writer.” Luke quietly chuckled to himself, clasping his hands together.

“Train’s in forty minutes. We shouldn’t be out in the open.” Y/N dragged the two boys back into the shade, away from the burning sun. “We wait here. Don’t move.” Luke tried to walk off but Y/N was quick to grab him.

“What if we need to go to the bathroom?”

“Then be quick. Obviously I’m not going to follow you into the bathroom.” Y/N exhaled in agitation before grabbing her bag, pulling out a book.

“Is this really a good time to read, writer?” Luke asked, peeking over her shoulder. Y/N didn’t reply, which only provoked Luke to annoy her further. Chris was wildly shaking his head but the brunette swordsman only grinned.

“Hey, writer.” He poked her, “Moby Dick is a stupid author.”

Finally, Y/N looked at him again, giving Luke the attention he so desperately craved. “Moby Dick was the whale. The author was Herman Melville.” Luke’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment but he tried to sheepishly play his mistake off.

“I know. I was just tryna get your attention.”

Y/N turned back to her book, silently flipping the page. Chris held back muffled laughs and Luke subtly flipped him off.

The minutes passed like slow hours and eventually, Chris walked off to find a bathroom. Luke was left sitting next to Y/N, his knee bumping her’s occasionally. He clicked his tongue to a random quiet beat to entertain himself.

“Stop that.” Y/N demanded.

“Stop what? I ain’t doing anything, writer.” Luke innocently played it off.

“Stop existing!”

“Woah, I don’t wanna kill myself. Otherwise the girls at camp would be doomed with my charming looks.”

“Yes, well they’d be fine without your so-called wits. You thought Moby Dick was the author. Ha! A whale writing. That’d be something, Castellan.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

“You’re really mean, do you know that?”

“And you’re insufferable. Though, I doubt you know what that word means. It means annoying.”

“I’m not dumb, writer.”

“Moby Dick was a whale.” Y/N tauntingly reminded him with a pointed look which had Luke’s cheeks turning red once more.

“Stop bringing up the whale!” Luke exclaimed, groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/N looked away, victoriously smirking.

“The train is ahead of time.” Chris uttered as soon as he returned from the bathroom, “It’ll be here in ten minutes. Let’s get ready to board.”

As Y/N stood on the platform, letting the scorching sun beat down on her, she could feel a pair of eyes stare daggers into her back. She slowly turned her head, locking eyes with a tall Russian man. Almost too tall to be human. He grinned at her, showing off his sharp and pointed teeth.

Luke took notice of the slender man as well. “They know we’re here.” He whispered, subconsciously stepping forward to block Y/N from the man’s view.

“Are we sure he’s a monster or just a little creepy looking?” Chris butted in.

“Let’s get into our compartment as soon as possible. I booked one near the end so it’d be easier for us to get out if anything goes wrong.” Y/N muttered as she stepped onto the steel stairs. She handed the conductor her ticket and he examined it before letting her pass.

“This one.” She mumbled to the two boys. She shoved the door open and once all of them were tucked safely inside, she slammed it shut and locked it.

Luke and Chris watched in confusion as she searched the wall for something they couldn’t see. “What are you doing?” Luke questioned, a little confused.

“Compartments like these often have a door leading to the next one.” Y/N exclaimed, “These doors are able to be locked and unlocked but I don’t doubt a monster’s ability on being able to acquire a key. Oh, and close the curtains, will you?”

Chris was quick to do as Y/N said, grasping onto the velvet fabric and yanking it to conceal the window.

“You seem to know what you’re doing. Are you sure you haven’t run away before?” Luke said that in a joking tone but Y/N’s frantic actions to find the lock paused.

“I… uh… tried running away when I was ten. The orphanage wasn’t exactly the best place to live. But after spending what little savings I had, I returned because there was nowhere else I could go.” Y/N cleared her throat and shook her head. “But that’s in the past. I don’t regret it because I was able to see parts of the world that nobody in the orphanage could. And it was beautiful.”

“So how’d you end up in that private school?” Luke pressed on further.

“The school has a deal with the orphanage. Every year, one child is picked to study at the school. It’s like a scholarship, if you will. All costs, even lunch, are covered. And I knew I wanted out because I couldn’t stand being in a cramped room any longer. So I worked harder than everybody else and I studied overtime because I don’t accept defeat. I get what I want and that scholarship was no different.”

Luke let out a low whistle. “Impressive, writer. But I didn’t expect anything less from you.”

“I found the lock.” Y/N announced, “Do either of you have a key or a pocket knife or anything I can jam in there?” Luke handed Y/N a small pocket knife and she slightly smiled before harshly shoving the blade into the lock. “That’ll hold it.”

She collapsed on a squeaky mattress, her legs dangling off the bed. Luke could hear the faint sound of her back clicking.

“How long will this train take?” He asked as he sat down across from Y/N. Chris had already dozed off, sleep-deprived and exhausted. Y/N subtly shrugged.

“Maybe a day? I want to get off as soon as possible because that man creeped me out. Check the other wall, will you?”

Luke had no choice but to stand again and search the smooth barrier for a lock, running his hands over the wall and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Nothing.” He concluded. Y/N hummed, seemingly pleased.

“Meals will be delivered to us. In the mean time, avoid making interaction with anyone.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Luke hesitated for a moment before he spoke again.

“So… why’d you run away?” Luke was met with silence before he heard Y/N quietly sigh.

“The orphanage didn’t treat us as humans but rather as pests they had to get rid of. They were so happy to see me go to school because it meant they had to spend less time on keeping me in line. I was… a troubled kid. Now I know why. It’s the godly blood, isn’t it?” Y/N cracked open one eye to look at Luke, who nodded.

“You didn’t regret running away?” Luke questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He heard Y/N lightly laugh.

“I’ll never regret it because those were the best weeks of my life. I met people I had never seen before and I found comfort in knowing I’d never see them again. There was one girl who was like me, troubled and a little angry. We became best friends for the few nights we spent together until she had to move on.”

“What was she like?”

“Beautiful… and dangerous. She enjoyed starting fights. She was a little younger than me… with brown curled hair and pretty hazel eyes. Her name was…” Y/N trailed off, “Oh… well, I don’t remember now. That’s a shame.”

“Clarisse.” Luke piped up, “That was her name, right? Clarisse?”

Y/N stared at him with her lips parted. “Yes… that was her name. How do you know her?”

“She’s a demigod too. A daughter of Ares. She’s actually at camp as we speak, waiting for new kids to arrive so she can torment them.” Luke chuckled, turning his gaze to stare at the floor.

“You know, you aren’t as mean as you try to be.” He uttered after a full minute of awkward silence. Y/N’s eyes darted to look at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “I’ve met girls like you, writer. Girls who do everything to block people out because they don’t see themselves as someone a person could ever like. Those types of girls suffer a lot… don’t be like them, writer. Bring down your walls for even just a few hours.”

Y/N opened her mouth to reply but a shrill scream interrupted her.

“Hey! What happened to the rule of no one leaving?!” Luke shouted as Y/N rushed to the door.

“That doesn’t apply to this situation!” Y/N loudly retorted. Luke spared Chris a glance before he darted after the H/C-haired girl. She was already kneeled beside a woman, frantically shaking her and checking her pulse.

“What happened?” One of the train workers rushed over to see the commotion, his face paling at the sight of the woman’s blood staining the lush carpet below.

“She screamed and ran out of her cabin.” An onlooker explained.

“No pulse… she’s already dead.” Y/N whispered.

“Everyone, to your compartments. Do not move until we give the all clear!” The worker yelled, blowing his whistle harshly. Y/N fumbled around with something in the body’s pocket and Luke was quick to drag her away.

“Someone killed her, Castellan… a swift stab to her chest. Was it a monster?” Y/N breathed as Luke led her to a quiet corner. He shook his head.

“Monsters shouldn’t affect mortals. The mist covers them. This might be actually murder.”

Y/N shuddered. “Warn Chris.” She demanded while Luke furrowed his eyebrows.

“What are you going to do?” He questioned.

“I’m going to search for evidence.” Y/N up a large stolen key, “I wasn’t up until three in the morning solving true crime stories for nothing.”

•

Y/N carefully slipped into the woman’s cabin, her eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. She crouched down, looking underneath the messy bed. Below the rickety wooden frame lay a single pipette. Y/N reached out her arm, grasping onto it.

“Why would someone need this? Unless this lady was an arts and craft kind of person.” Everywhere Y/N looked, all she found were scraps of paper and an occasional book. “Oh, you deserved to be stabbed for reading this. What a monstrosity.”

Y/N wrinkled up her face as she pulled out a copy of Lolita. She threw it aside but a quiet clang caught her attention. A small brooch had fallen out of the novel and rolled across the floor, hitting Y/N’s shoe.

She crouched down and examined it, running her thumb over the letter H that was engraved in the rusty metal.

“What was this woman’s name?” Y/N grabbed the bags, looking for any kind of name. “Mia… not starting with H. This was left behind… and this pipette… it’s used for cleaning smoking pipes but I see nothing. She wasn’t a smoker.” Y/N shoved the two items into her pocket and quickly exited the compartment, coming face to face with the unusually tall man from before.

“It’s not safe to be lurking around.” He grinned, which gave Y/N no comfort.

“I was just leaving.” She muttered, letting him brush past her. He tipped his hat.

“As you were, miss.” He slinked away and something white fell out of his pocket. Y/N was quick to rush over and pick it up. “A pipette…” The man didn’t smell like the strong scent of tobacco that always seemed to trail after smokers. Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“Where have you been?” Luke stood in front of the door like an angry mom waiting for her kid to arrive home. “The workers called a mandatory meeting. They didn’t know you were missing, luckily.”

“Was there anyone who smoked a pipe?” Y/N asked, ignoring Luke’s previous statement.

“Uh, yeah. A male doctor. Why?”

“Did you get his name?” Y/N was relentless with her inquires.

“The worker called the doctor Harvard Armstrong.”

“Harvard? Like the university? Who names their kid that? That’s just sad.” Y/N scoffed her herself. “But it works.”

“What works?” Luke was sick of being left out of whatever Y/N was planning. He could practically see the cogs turning in her head.

“I found these in the woman’s cabin. Her name’s Mia.” Y/N threw her sad evidence onto her bed, “A brooch with an H on it and a pipette. This pipette is specifically for cleaning pipe cigarettes and Harvard and H match up.”

Chris lifted his brows. “Are we seriously solving this murder crime right now?”

Y/N tuned out his words. “There’s not many people who use a pipe these days. It’s rare to come across. And it was a stupid clue to leave, even under a bed. Is it safe to walk around the train?”

“Yes, but it isn’t advised- Woah, where are you going?!” Luke grabbed Y/N’s arm before she could walk away again. “Look, you may be half god but you’re also half human. You can die just as easily! Don’t go off and risk your life for some Mia lady you didn’t even know!”

“Then come with me, Castellan. What’re you afraid of?” Y/N shoved him aside while Luke glanced at Chris for help.

“Just go, dude. I’ll lock the door. Knock three times when you come back.”

That’s how Luke ended up trailing after Y/N in the deserted corridor.

“I can assure you, Mister Norman, that we are doing everything in our power to catch the culprit.”

As Y/N walked around a corner, she spotted the same sharp-toothed man talking with another staff member.

“Bullshit.” Norman spat and scoffed.

“Are you sure you aren’t the culprit, Mister Norman?” Y/N spoke up. Luke glared at her, trying to shush her.

“Miss L/N, this is a private conversation.” The worker uttered, “You shouldn’t even be out.”

“You’re Russian, right?” Y/N stepped forward, much to Luke’s dismay. “H… I found it in a book written by a Russian author. Isn’t H in the Russian Alphabet pronounced as N? Harvard… Norman. That was a tricky one you left. And the pipette. Very cunning to try and blame someone else. But Harvard Armstrong, the man you tried accusing, was in the room next to us and he never left until after.”

“You’re a nosy girl.” Norman grumbled.

“Yeah… and I just don’t like your vibe altogether. This is your’s, right? Your next reaction will confirm it.” Y/N tossed the brooch high into the air and smiled as it neared the floor. Norman was quick to catch it, holding it close to his chest as if it were a sacred treasure.

Y/N winked, “Bingo.”

Norman quickly turned tail and tried to run but the train worker was faster, practically tackling him to the ground.

“You just solved a fucking murder crime in under an hour.” Luke said, astounded. “How did you know it was even him?"

“As I said, I didn’t like his vibe… and it was a gamble anyway. I took a lucky guess.”

•

“I can’t believe she solved a murder with only two pieces of evidence.” Chris whispered to Luke as they strolled through the woods towards camp.

“Again, I can hear you.” Y/N turned to glare at the boys, “I haven’t disappeared or suddenly gone deaf.”

“Dealing with a deaf you probably would’ve been easier.” Luke cheekily smiled as he spoke his mind.

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes. “I can’t stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.” Luke mumbled but it was loud enough for the other two to hear.

Chris choked on air while Y/N spun around bewilderment. "What?" She seethed in shock. Luke battered his lashes like he had done no wrong.

"What? I didn't say anything." He played along, much to Y/N's annoyance.

"You weirdo." She muttered, "How far is camp? It's getting dark and I don't really want to be a harpy's midnight snack."

Chris pointed at a tree on top of a hill that stood not too far away. “At least two more minutes.” He said. Y/N was relieved to finally step past the tree and into the temporary shade it gave her.

“It seems people are already waiting for you.” Luke mumbled under his breath as he spotted the small crowd of demigods standing behind Chiron, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl the oracle wanted Luke and Chris to retrieve.

“She doesn’t look like anything special.” A pretty blond with glossy lips whispered to the equally stunning group surrounding her.

A golden haze began to form the moment Y/N paused in front of Chiron. The golden mist swirled like the sand in Y/N’s dream, forming a majestic looking owl that loudly cooed and flew high into the sky. It dived back down, exploding into golden glitter that rained down on Y/N like heavy pieces of hail.

“Welcome Y/N, daughter of Athena, to Camp Half-Blood.”

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303 @inlovewithcarsthatrunreallyfast @luvvfromme @y0urm0m12 @mochi-lover26 @annispamz

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 

“Okay. Love you.” 

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 

Or maybe because he’s hot. 

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 

No reply, as usual. 

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one. 

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 

“Why did you…come after me?” 

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 

“A dragon clawed your face off?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

probably already reposted this but

“FOR MORE STARS????” ARE YOU KIDDING???

bro i’m crumbling

all the stars (are closer) | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: a deep dive into luke’s mind and how he’d balance the love he has for his girlfriend and his anger towards the gods. (set during new year’s eve!)

wc: 1.7k (sorry ik this is short)

warnings: book spoilers and hints of a relationship becoming toxic. HEAVILY IMPLIED NSFW

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR !! starting off the year with mister castellan bcs im pretty sure that’s the best way to do it. i’ve always wanted to write a fic that also works as a bit of a study-ish of the character’s mind soo this is was extremely exciting to write <3 i hope you all have an amazing 2024 !!! 🎊💌

Luke was sure the stars always shone the brightest when no one was gazing at them—or at least they did when only a small number of people were paying attention to the celestial bodies glistening in the dark sky. He didn’t have any factual evidence to prove this theory, but he assumes the sight in front of him is enough proof of said hypothesis.

The multicolored bright fireworks lit up the North Woods and illuminated your silhouette in an almost otherworldly way. He might even believe you weren’t just a mere demigod, but one of the many façades Aphrodite possessed when she took on a human form. He sometimes wondered if he was one of the historical Greek heroes from Chiron’s stories in his past life because he couldn’t believe the luck he had, having a girlfriend with the beauty and gentleness of a goddess but with the heart and kindness of a mortal.

You were the perfect example of what being a demigod meant. His eyes traveled all over your body, noticing the way you let your hair down for the annual New Year’s fireworks show in Camp Half-Blood. Even Mr. D was kind enough to let the campers wear the “fancy” clothes they had stashed in the attic of the Big House, freeing them from the shackles of always wearing bright orange shirts. (Luke noticed how this freedom didn’t come from the kindness of his heart, but from Silena getting him a bottle of non-alcoholic white wine.)

He couldn’t believe he was the only one looking at you during this moment. Everyone was too busy complimenting their siblings and friends’ outfits or sharing their New Year’s Resolutions, but all he could focus on was your bright smile and white dress.

The dress was handpicked by Silena herself, at least that’s what you told him when you knocked on Luke’s door and greeted him with a “Before you say anything, you must know I didn’t want to wear it but it was Silena’s New Year’s wish, which I’m sure is something she made up on the spot. Please tell me I don’t look terrible, Castellan.”

Luke’s mouth went dry. His heart beating in a fast way that only happened when he was 1) fighting for his life or 2) trying to speak while the love of his life looked like an angel sent down from heaven. That’s what you are—one of God’s most special creations.

He never considered himself to be a religious person, especially not when his father was a Greek god. But if there truly was a God ruling over a perfect paradise in the heavens, he must’ve carved you just for Luke to admire.

“You look beautiful. You always do, baby.” He said after finally finding the strength to find the right words, but even the small sentence he muttered wasn’t enough to encapsulate what he meant. He wanted to say your beauty would put Aphrodite to shame or that looking at you felt like getting trampled on by a Laestrygonian or that the shining sparks he could see in your eyes made you living proof of perfection existing and he couldn’t believe the luck he has to call you his.

“You’re just saying that because I’m your girlfriend”, you answered with a bright blush adorning your face. Luke took notice of how adorable you looked when he made the red color rush into your cheeks.

“I’m just saying that because not a single goddess in Mount Olympus could ever come close to the beauty you possess. But sure, whatever floats your boat, angel.”

“See? And now you’re just being corny… gods, you’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m extremely aware I am the lucky one here.”

“Shut the hell up, it’s annoying when you act like a poet. Just act like a Hermes child for once, please”, you replied with an eye roll but the bright smile you had gave away what you truly felt.

“I snuck out of camp and stole the suit I’ll be wearing tonight. Is that enough of a Hermes child activity for you?”

Chiron decided to hang fairy lights in the trees of the forest and the wood nymphs were happy to comply, after all, they’d do anything to clean up nicely for once. The campers were spread out through camp, some decided to stay in the dining pavilion, others were laying on picnic blankets in the amphitheater, and the rest were walking around while they kept their eyes on the sky, gazing at the fireworks the Hephaestus kids lit up.

Luke wasn’t looking at them, though. He was looking at you, you were all he could focus on. He was sure that even if Kronos changed his mind on the spot and got him killed at this exact moment, Luke wouldn’t have cared. He would’ve been happy to die knowing you were the last thing he ever set his eyes on. The last and only person to ever truly have his heart.

He loves you. That wasn’t ever in doubt, he knows, you know, every single camper knows he is head over heels for you. But that’s not all there is to it, there are numerous things underneath the love he holds for you. He would die for you, he would live for you, he would kill for you. He would start a new world, a better one for you. What is love if not letting the king of the Titans rise just to get the chance to live a normal life with the love of his life—the love of his soul?

What is love if not going behind his little sister’s back and stealing Zeus’s master bolt to help her get a better life? A life without the gods, a life without the immeasurable grief they went through after Thalia’s death. A life where Annabeth would finally get to be a kid, a life where the outside world doesn’t feel like the moon.

He can’t help but wonder about the events that are bound to happen five months from now. At this moment everyone is happy, looking at the fireworks lighting up the night sky above them and preparing themselves for the year that’s about to begin, completely oblivious to the chaos that is prone to happen.

What would you do? Would you join him? He likes to believe you will. He likes to think about those hushed whispers of “I would follow you anywhere,” and “I was put on this earth to find you,” muttered through tangled limbs and slow thrusts. He wants to have faith in you, he wants to believe you’ll do the right thing. You’ll join him, you must.

Or maybe it was all a deception. Maybe you weren’t thinking straight when you promised you’d follow him anywhere and everywhere. Maybe you were too drunk on the kisses he was leaving on your neck, while he was drunk on the feeling of your pulse quickening at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“Luke,” it was always his name you’d beg for in between your ruffled sheets and the thick walls of your room in the city. You never begged for the gods, you never gave them a second thought. You were his in the dark of the night under the light of the stars and all you asked for was more of him, more of what only he could give you. The gods could never love you the way he does, no one could.

He knows you’ve never begged for them, never cried out their name while you felt a temporary ecstasy take all over your body as you become one with your boyfriend. You’re not stupid, you could never go against him and he knows you never will.

Luke’s eyes are completely set on you, watching closely as you take quick strides from your place near the lake, making your way to him. Are you sure you’re not the second coming of Aphrodite?

“Hey.”

“Hi, baby. Listen—“ his sentence was cut off by the loud cheers of the campers, dryads, and wood nymphs counting down for the new year.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

“Wait, Luke, quick! Make a wish!”

Seven.

Six.

“What?”

“A wish, Luke. Make a wish, it can be anything. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Five.

Four.

Three.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of pressure.”

Two.

One.

Luke was quick to press his lips to yours, tasting the cherry flavor they always had. More fireworks erupted and he could hear distant screams of “Happy New Year!” coming from the campers near him, but all he could focus on was you.

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and pulled you in closer, humming when you let out a surprised moan at the feeling of his hungry lips devouring yours as if this was his last night alive. Feeling a heat not even Hephaestus could control, a fire he could never produce—one only Luke could.

He could give you everything the gods refused to.

You pulled away when you felt your lungs being seconds from giving out. Luke kept his hands on your cheeks, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eyes.

“What did you wish for?” you breathe out, trying to catch your breath. Luke stayed silent for a few seconds, finding pride in the knowledge of him being the reason why the oxygen left your lungs.

“For more stars,” he answered in a small murmur before leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, your body—in a second nature—was quick to answer and wrap your arms around his neck, laying your head against his chest.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

Luke wished for more stars. Maybe every star he sees will turn his true wish into a reality. Maybe if he wishes upon every star he encounters… you will never leave him.

Maybe you’ll stay by his side when the simple act of loving him becomes an act of defiance.

Remus Lupin ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆