lixzey - Tumblr blog

lixzey · 4 days

Text

jenna, stopppp 🥺 you're making me blush 🤭

SERENDIPITY

a/n: so sorry for the wait, but anyway, here it is! we are now at the official start of luke and maya's relationship! 💘 to everyone that helped me with this chapter, thank you! wouldn't have done this without you guys!

If you guys wanna be added to the SERENDIPITY taglist, just ask!

luke and maya masterlist

Anyway, onto the story!

word count: 8,719

CHAPTER TWO: NEWBIE

June 15th, 2016

In the depths of the night, Luke Castellan lay beside his little sister, staring outside into the darkened velvet sky. Hours had passed since he and Annabeth stepped inside the camp’s borders, but the memory of what had just happened was still fresh, flashing in his mind again and again, haunting him.

June 14th

“Luke, I’m tired,” Annabeth whined, tugging on the hem of his shirt. They had been walking for hours, unable to find a place to stay for the night without monsters finding them.

Luke sighed. Despite being tired as well, he knew stopping wouldn’t do them any good. “We’ll stop soon, I promise,” he managed to say, giving the girl a small smile. “Just hold on, okay?”

“But I’m so tired,” Annabeth whined once more. “My feet hurt from all the walking!”

Thalia stopped in her tracks, hearing the younger girl. “I’m sorry, Annie, but we have to get going or those bad monsters will catch up on us.”

Annabeth looked up at the older girl, electric blue, meeting hers. “But, I’m so tired….”

“I know we all are, kid. But stopping won’t do us any good, the monsters we faced just hours ago? They’ll find us, and we’ll be too weak to fight. Grover said we’re almost there, so we need to get going,” Thalia explained, hoping to convince the little girl to tread just a little further.

“Thalia’s right, Annabeth,” Luke said, backing up the raven-haired girl. “Come on, you can ride on my shoulders for a few hours.”

Annabeth stared at the ground, and eventually, after a few seconds, she nodded. “Okay.”

Thalia patted her on the shoulder before ruffling in the back pack she had in her arms. “Here you go,” she said, passing Annabeth their last granola bar. “Eat up; you’ll need it, kid.”

Luke smiled at the sight of Annabeth taking the granola bar from Thalia, relieved that she wouldn’t be whining again anytime soon and they could resume their journey. “Come on, let’s get going.” Luke chuckled. Despite being so drained and worn out, he picked up Annabeth and placed her up on his shoulders.

If Luke had anything he was thankful for, it was the fact that he found family regardless of the circumstances.

“No, no, no!” Annabeth screamed, snapping Luke out of his trance. “Monsters!”

Luke whips his head around almost immediately, reaching for the little girl and wrapping his arm around her, pulling the screaming child close to his chest. “Shh, Annie, it’s okay,” Luke whispered, hoping to soothe the younger girl. “I’m,” he said, taking a deep breath. “...here.”

Annabeth buried her face in her older brother’s chest, sobbing. “Thalia…” she murmured, tears absorbing into Luke’s tattered shirt.

“It’s okay, shh,” Luke whispered, rubbing circles on her back in an attempt to calm her down. “There aren’t any monsters anymore; we’re safe, you’re safe….”

Luke choked back his tears as he comforted his sister back to sleep. He was hurting too; he had lost Thalia too.

“Don’t, don’t be stupid, Thalia!”

“No time! Run!” Thalia screamed, hoping to buy Luke and Annabeth some time to get to camp unharmed. “Don’t stop until you’re inside the border!”

“But-”

“Luke, think of Annabeth! Go!”

Luke placed Annabeth on his hip, turning to run despite wanting to stay with Thalia and help fight off the monsters attacking them.

“Run!” Thalia screamed once more, her voice cracking. “Run!”

The monsters roared, ringing in Luke’s ears, not daring to look back as he knew what was going to happen.

Annabeth cried, clinging to Luke tighter. “No more, no more!”

“I-It’s okay..it’s okay, don’t worry, we’ll be safe soon,” Luke whispered, fighting back his tears as they approached the borders with Grover running closely behind.

As soon as Luke crossed the barrier, he finally looked back. He saw Thalia fighting off as much as she could when one of the cyclopes grabbed her, throwing her hard against the ground with a loud thud.

Thalia lay on the ground, gasping for air, slowly dying. Before Luke could react, there was a loud boom of thunder, scattering the monsters away from Thalia’s body.

And right before Luke’s eyes, Thalia’s body turned into a large pine tree.

“We’ll be alright,” Luke whispered to Annabeth’s now-sleeping form. “I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you ever again.”

June 16th, 2016

Maya Williams has lived a relatively normal life as a demigod.

Maya was eight when she arrived at Camp Half Blood. She had run away when she was six years old, a scared little girl who didn’t have a clue why her mother abandoned her as a baby or why her father hated her so badly. Maya had been on her own for almost two years, fighting her hardest to survive in a world not fit for a child, let alone a child of the goddess of love and beauty.

Unlike other demigods, Maya was technically safe from monsters. Her scent was significantly sweeter than that of the average child of the gods, making her—or any other child of Aphrodite, really—safe from monsters. Still, Maya wasn’t safe from the monsters of the mortal world.

Children of Aphrodite radiate beauty, some more than others. Some would think it’s a blessing, but for the children of the goddess of beauty—at least for Maya—it’s a curse more than it is a blessing. While on the run, Maya had not-so-good encounters with older men—or, as she called them, monsters.

Maya tried to avoid men as much as she could, mostly hiding behind large garbage cans or running as fast as her little legs could carry her. One time, she resorted to biting and kicking, which ended up leaving her with a large scar down her arm because the man used a pocket knife on her arm an effort to pry her teeth off of his arm.

And then Ferdinand came into the picture.

At first, Maya was skeptical. Ferdinand had the legs and horns of a goat, and that isn’t something she’s seen in her life before. And then he told her there was a safe haven for children like her. A place where she’d never get hurt again. She’d have someone—her half siblings—to guide her in the world she had no clue how to live in.

It was a splash of color in Maya’s young life, solace in a world full of terrors. She finally had a place where she belonged.

Now, Maya is four months away from being fourteen years old. The eldest out of fifteen kids residing in cabin ten, which she was made head of when the former head went off to college when she was twelve years old.

Throughout the years, Maya has learned to be the perfect child of Aphrodite. The scared little girl who arrived at camp six years ago was long gone and replaced by a beautiful, smart, strong, and independent young woman who is the epitome of perfection by camp half blood’s standards.

At nine years old, Maya understood that beauty is a weapon—for children of Aphrodite, at least. Children of the goddess of love are most known in camp for breaking hearts, as a rite of passage for a child of the goddess to prove themselves to their mother, like how her sisters and brothers had done before Maya had even arrived in the camp built for the children of the gods.

“Yeah, sorry, this isn’t working out,” Maya sighed dramatically, her French-tipped manicured hand against another one of her conquests’ cheeks.

The son of Apollo smiled, the look in his eyes saying otherwise. He’d been in a relationship with Maya for less than a week, and she’s already breaking up with him. He should’ve expected it. After all, Maya had a reputation for the last two years—breaking hearts like it’s nobody’s business. It didn’t help that she had charm speak, easily luring boys into her game.

“Can…can we still be friends, Maya?” He looked up, meeting her kaleidoscope eyes.

“Hun, I think it’s better if we don’t.” Maya looked at him with a faux apologetic look in her eyes. “It’s for the better.”

The boy sighed, giving Maya one last smile before turning away—another heart broken by the vixen of cabin ten.

“Maya, that’s the sixth one this month.” Nine-year-old Silena sighed, watching another Apollo kid walk away, devastated after trying his luck with her sister and failing. “Poor guy.”

“Not my fault he wanted me,” Maya rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she started to walk in the direction of the Big House. “I really don’t know why it’s such a big deal.”

“He’s what? Guy number fifty? Sixty? I lost count,” Silena muttered, counting on her fingers.

There were the sons of Ares—who claimed that Maya should be theirs as her mother was their father’s partner—who would woo her with their fighting skills. There were a few sons of Demeter who’d give her an assortment of flowers—from roses to sunflowers, to tulips. A lot of sons of Apollo—just like the one Maya recently dumped—tried wooing her with haikus, poems, and musical numbers—a trick their father Apollo did to win over people he liked, which never worked on her because, in her opinion, they were annoying. A few of Hephaestus’ sons would give her contraptions, like that magical hair dryer that could dry her hair in five seconds or that vanity table she had in the Aphrodite cabin, which had a lot of drawers and lights easily changed by a click of a button. And finally, some of Athena’s sons—which was funny considering they were supposed to be the logical ones yet they fell for Maya’s charm. It was terrifying how her sister could smile and boys would just fall at her feet, like idiots, despite knowing what their fate would be.

“Sixty-five, Silena, keep up.” Maya chuckled, turning to face her sister and reaching to flick her long hair back.

“You’re hopeless,” Silena said, shaking her head. “You’ve proved yourself to Mom two years ago, and you’re still at the game.”

“You have to understand that it isn’t my fault, little sister,” Maya said, eyeing a son of Ares who was sparring with his siblings. “It’s mom’s blessing’s fault.”

Silena rolled her eyes at her older sister. “You keep on blaming Mom’s blessing.”

“You’re too young to understand, darlin’,” Maya cooed, patting Silena on the cheek. “I’m going to go and ask Chiron about that fashion show,” she said, turning her heel and colliding with someone else—a boy.

“What the-!” Maya almost shrieked, trying to regain her balance. Maya looked up, emerald green meeting chocolate brown.

“Sorry.” The boy apologized, his hand on Maya’s arm.

“Let go of me!” Maya snarled, yanking her arm away. “Next time, watch where you’re going, dummy!”

The boy scowled. “No need to be rude, princess.”

Maya scowled, looking him up and down. He had dark, curly hair and a mischievous look in his chocolate brown eyes that held pain and misery at the same time, paired with a cocky smile. Maya had to admit that the boy in front of her was handsome.

“Are you done staring?” The boy teased, a smirk etched on his lips. “I’m Luke, by the way; we’re new.”

“Do I look like I care?” Maya snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m Silena!” Silena piped up from behind Maya, a wide smile on her pink lips. The boy—Luke—smiled at Silena, and Maya was sure she’d be hearing about him for the rest of the day. She didn’t need her sister babbling about this person.

“Luke?” A little voice asked. Maya’s eyes darted down to a little girl with striking gray eyes—a clear sign that she was an Athena kid (Maya dated a few Athena kids, so she’d know). She couldn’t be older than seven—a little younger than Maya when she first arrived.

Luke smiled at the little girl, patting her on the shoulder. “Go on, Annie, introduce yourself to our new friends.”

“I’m Annabeth, daughter of Athena,” she mumbled, shuffling her feet, not daring to make eye contact with the older girls in front of her.

Maya had a soft spot for little kids, especially those who were the same age as her when she arrived at camp. She had a feeling that little Annabeth had the same childhood as her; the same pain she had was evident in her eyes.

Maya kneeled down to Annabeth’s height. “Hi Annabeth, I’m Maya. It’s an honor meeting you, little one,” she smiled, her whole attitude just minutes ago fading—much to Luke’s surprise.

“Hi,” Annabeth said, giving Maya a tight smile.

“Wow, one minute she was rude, and the next she’s a saint,” Luke muttered, earning a glare from Maya. Gods, he’s annoying.

Maya stood up, the smile still on her lips—although this time, it’s fake. A talent she’s mastered for the past five years. “Welcome to camp! Like I said, I’m Maya, and I’m one of the camp counselors-”

“You’re a counselor?” Luke asked, cutting her off, his lips curled into a teasing smirk. “You’re the same age as me, aren’t you, princess?”

Maya glared at him, like it was the most natural thing that she was born to do. Who does he think he is? To talk to me like that. “As I was saying, I’m one of the camp counselors, being the head of cabin ten—the Aphrodite cabin. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me.”

Luke flashed her a boyish grin. “Oh, I won’t.”

This guy was really pushing Maya’s buttons. Normally, someone would never speak to her unless they were from cabin ten, or she’d be the first one to initiate—which was flirting, most of the time. “All right,” Maya said through gritted teeth before turning to her sister. “I’m going to go find Chiron. My sister here would be glad to tour you guys around camp. How does that sound?”

Annabeth’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, can we, Luke? Can we?” She pleaded, tugging on Luke’s shirt, her big gray eyes pleading with him.

Luke chuckled, patting Annabeth on the head lightly. “Alright, alright, we’ll take that tour.”

“That settles it!” Maya clapped her hands, pushing Silena forward slightly, eager to get away as soon as possible. “I’ll leave you to it, sis.”

Silena rolled her eyes at her sister. At nine years old, she already has an attitude—much like Maya’s, although tamer than hers. “Alright. But you better get Chiron on the idea, Maya! Everyone’s counting on you!”

Maya grinned, tucking a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. “I know, I know, I’m on it.”

“On what?” Luke asked, genuinely curious about what the Aphrodite kids were planning.

“None of your business, newbie,” Maya said, a little harsher than she intended in the presence of a kid. Maya sighed. He’s getting on my nerves. “It’s for our cabin, a little event for us.”

“Can we join?” Little Annabeth asked, big gray eyes looking up at Maya. Gods. Who was Maya to deny a little girl who’s reminding her of her when she was a little girl—alone and scared, just wanting to be loved and to belong.

“Tell you what, kid,” Maya chuckled. “I’ll try to get the idea approved. And when Chiron does, you’ll be the first one to know. How does that sound?”

Annabeth smiled up at Maya. “Thank you,”

Maya clapped her hands. “Alright, I’ll leave you guys with the tour.” She cast a look at Luke, rolling her eyes at him, before turning to leave—finally, getting away from him.

“What’s got her panties in a twist?” Luke asked as Maya’s flaming locks faded into view.

Silena groaned, shaking her head at the thought of explaining her sister. “She’s, well, you know…”

Luke looked at her, his brow raised. “What?”

“She’s a good person, alright?” Silena sighed, starting to walk opposite of the direction her sister went.

“Doesn’t seem like it. She’s snappy,” Luke muttered, the scene of her snapping at him replaying in his head. “Is she always like that?”

“Actually, she’s the opposite,” Silena muttered. “She’s the best sister anyone could ever ask for. She always makes sure we have everything we need. But yeah, Maya has an attitude sometimes. Anyways, this is the dining area.” Silena pointed to a pavilion framed by large Greek columns overlooking the sea.

Luke scanned the pavilion in awe. He’d never seen a place so sophisticated, just as a place to eat. Luke’s eyes darted to Annabeth, whose eyes were as big as saucers as she looked around. Silena led the two inside, pausing abruptly in the middle.

“There are twelve tables corresponding to each cabin, meaning each cabin is supposed to sit at their designated tables. Athena kids with Athena kids,” Silena looked at Annabeth apologetically, who was gripping Luke’s arm, not wanting to be separated.

Luke kneeled down to Annabeth’s level, his hands holding hers. “Don’t worry, you’ll be alright with your brothers and sisters there. They’ll take care of you. And besides, I think they love architecture, like you! It won’t be so bad, I promise.”

“But you’re my brother,” Annabeth murmured. Luke sighed, his heart aching for his adoptive little sister. They were family, but Annabeth had siblings of her own that she had to at least try to get along with.

“I know, but you can have lots of brothers and sisters too, you know? Just like me and Thalia,” Luke explained gently. “And it’s not like I’m going to forget you while you’re with them. You’re my little sister; I’ll always be by your side, no matter what.”

Annabeth’s lower lip trembled, still wary of being with others and the possibility of Luke leaving her. “You promise?”

Luke chuckled, ruffling her hair. “I promise. It’s me and you against the world.”

Annabeth seemed to relax a bit, her eyes darting to the sixth table with twelve other kids already sitting at it.

Silena smiled at Annabeth. “You want me to lead you to your table?”

Annabeth shook her head, making Luke laugh at her stubbornness. “I got it, thank you.”

Luke watched as Annabeth trudged forward to the Athena table, where her siblings were waiting for her with big smiles. Annabeth so far was the youngest; judging from the smiles the older Athena kids gave her, Luke knew she was in good hands.

“Don’t worry ‘bout her; she’s going to be okay. You see that girl with blonde hair?” Silena pointed to the girl at the Athena table, welcoming Annabeth. “She’s the head of the Athena cabin; she’s going to take care of little Annabeth.”

Luke smiled, his eyes still glued to Annabeth, who was already smiling and talking to her older siblings. “She’s gonna be alright; I know she will—she’s a fighter, you know?”

“I bet she is.” Silena chuckled. “So, who’s your parent?”

Luke turned to face her, his face turning sour for a split seconf at the question. “Hermes.”

“There,” Silena pointed to a table with kids with the same mischievous look as him. “Just ‘cross ours,” Luke said, turning to table ten, across cabin eleven’s. There were very beautiful girls and very good-looking, handsome boys laughing together.

“Wow,” Luke muttered, his eyes still on the Aphrodite table.

Silena waved at her siblings. “Hey guys!”

The group of good-looking kids waved back, one of them beckoning Silena to come over.

“Did Maya get it approved?” One of the girls asked as Silena walked forward, Luke following behind.

“Not yet,” Silena answered, sitting beside a blonde boy around her age. “She’s getting it approved right now, I think. She just went to the Big House.”

“I hope it gets approved; I’ve been dying to show off my new Chanel dress!” A brunette girl squealed.

Silena laughed, absentmindedly forgetting Luke was standing behind her. “Oh, I almost forgot! Guys, this is Luke.”

Silena’s siblings turned to face Luke, and suddenly he felt his cheeks grow hot. Who wouldn’t when attractive girls were staring at you? Luke awkwardly waved at them. “Hi,”

The girls smiled at him, batting their eyelashes at him. “Hi, Luke!” They squealed, earning the looks of everyone else in the pavilion.

“Easy, guys, he’s new.” Silena laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t overwhelm him.”

“I’m okay,” Luke smiled, causing the girls—minus Silena—to squeal. Luke was sure he had popped an eardrum at how loud a girl’s squeal could be. He was glad Thalia and Annabeth never did, or he would've gone deaf earlier in his life.

Luke turned to face the eleventh table, where he was supposed to be. Cabin eleven, the cabin of his father. Luke took a deep breath before making his way to the table.

“Hi, I’m Luke.” The son of Hermes introduced himself to the oldest kid at the table, who looked around seventeen or eighteen. “Your brother, apparently.”

The older boy smiled, rising to his feet. “Welcome, newbie,” he greeted Luke, reaching out a hand for a handshake, which Luke took. “I’m Matt, head of eleven. Come on in, take a seat.”

Luke gave the older boy a nod, taking a seat beside a dark-haired boy around Silena’s age at the other end of the table.

“Hi, I’m Chris, Chris Rodriguez!” The younger boy introduced himself. “I just got here too!”

Matt chuckled, reaching for the goblet in front of him. “Chris, he got here two weeks ago.”

“I’m nine!” Chris raised up nine fingers, wiggling them in the air, making Luke laugh slightly. Chris was very different from Annabeth; he seemed like a normal kid, unlike Annabeth, who had been forced to grow up so early in her life, fighting for her life at only seven years old.

Judging from how cheery Chris was, Luke thinks he had a good childhood, perhaps a stable mother.

“Have you gotten a tour yet?” Matt asks, taking a sip from the goblet with orange fizzy liquid.

Luke shook his head. “Silena’s only brought me here, so far.”

“I’ll continue that tour for you,” Matt offered. “That is, if you’d like?”

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got nothing to do anyway.”

“Oh, there’s a lot to do around here,” Matt smiles, his eyes shining with a familiar mischief. “But of course, we have to get you settled at eleven. It’s a little bit crowded, but it’s home.”

Luke raised a brow. “Crowded?”

Matt gave him an apologetic smile. “Undetermined kids stay at our cabin. That’s why it's often crowded. But don’t worry, I think we have a sleeping bag to spare.”

Before Luke could utter a reply, a loud squeal—which Luke was starting to hate—echoed throughout the pavilion.

Luke whips his head around, only to see the girl who he was sure had called him stupid just earlier.

The girl—Luke thinks her name was Maya—ran forward to table ten, her hair dancing like fire in the wind. She had a huge grin plastered on her pretty face, her green eyes sparkling with excitement, making them shine like emeralds in the sun.

As soon as the girl was in earshot of her siblings, she started squealing again.

“Typical,” Matt says, rolling his eyes at the table next to them.

Luke keeps his attention on the fiery girl, absentmindedly smiling in her direction.

“Chiron approved the fashion show!” Maya happily announced, smiling from ear to ear. “He says we can start planning!”

Cheers erupted from the table, earning groans from some of the other campers. “I knew you could do it!” Silena beamed, mirroring her sister’s excitement.

Maya sat down beside Silena, pushing strands of her out of her face. “I always get what I want,” she chuckled, reaching for a strawberry from the plate in front of her and popping it in her mouth.

“Don’t get fooled by that pretty face,” Matt warned.

Luke turned his attention back to Matt, brow raised. “Why’s that?”

“That girl is heartless,” Matt simply answered.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean? She looks sweet.”

“Sweet?” Matt snorts, rolling his eyes at table ten. “That girl is the devil.”

“Care to explain?” Luke asks, his gaze momentarily moving to the said devil.

“Aphrodite is known for breaking hearts,” Matt explained, glancing at the children of the goddess. “And it’s said that to prove themselves to their mother, they have to make someone fall in love with them and break that someone’s heart.”

“Break their heart?”

Matt nodded. “And that girl, Maya,” He jerked his head in her direction. “She has held the record for the most heartbreaks since she was twelve.”

“T-Twelve?” Luke choked on his own saliva. “Twelve years old?”

Everyone around the table nodded.

Luke turned to look at Maya again. She was talking to her sister when the son of Hermes noticed some boys looking at her like she was the only girl in the world.

Luke had to admit it; Maya was pretty—stunning, even. Beautiful like a rose forever in bloom, gorgeous like a summer sunset.

“I think I can handle her.”

Matt choked on his drink. “What?”

“Two can play the heartbreak game,” Luke smirked, turning to look at Maya, who coincidentally turned his way and rolled her eyes at him.

“Are you crazy?”

“Are you stupid?”

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?”

Luke turned his attention back to the table, a lopsided grin on his lips. “I can do this; don’t worry.”

Matt shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, brother.”

“How hard can it be?” Luke mused, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve got nothing to do anyway.”

Matt groaned, shaking his head. “It’s your funeral, man.”

"C'mon, let me prove myself,” Luke smirks at his older brother, adjusting his shirt and moving a bit too confidently to the girl with an attitude as ablaze as her hair.

“She’s gonna kill him, I know it,” Chris mutters, watching as Luke makes his way to the girl in question. “Never thought we would lose someone this early like this.”

“No, no, it's okay, Chris,” Matt replies, eyes narrowing and arms now crossed. “Guess he had to see it for himself. Maybe he’ll learn his lesson.”

As Luke reached the table, he directed his eyes to the girl with flaming hair, earning all of the members of cabin ten’s attention on him, a few girls smiling at his return, others snickering anticipating his next move.

“Hey,” Luke says coolly, only now earning a side glance from the head of their cabin, a quirk in her features suggesting he continue. Oh shit, Luke thought, mildly intimidated by the girl. “Uh, why don't you show me around?” He asked, softly smiling, trying his best to feign confidence.

Maya, now annoyed, sensing his intentions. “Didn’t Silena show you around?”

Silena shook her head beside her sister. “Only got to bring him and Annabeth here, sorry. ”

Maya sighed, tilting her head to the side. “I’ll be busy,” she said, then turned her attention to another one of her sisters—the ones who have been smiling from ear to ear at the sight of Luke. “Maybe Lou can show you around?”

“Oh, but princess,” Luke drawls, a cocky smile forming on his lips. “I want you to show me what this place is all about.”

That shows her.

“Wrong move,” Matt mutters from table eleven, shaking his head, knowing what will happen next.

Maya stood up, smiling sweetly at Luke, which was never a good sign to anyone else. He was sure her eyes changed colors in a split second. “You want me to show you around?” She asked, her voice as sickeningly sweet as honey.

Luke nodded, looking a little arrogant as he leaned forward. “What do you say, princess? Are you up for the challenge?”

Maya’s expression turned sour, and before Luke could comprehend what was happening, the daughter of Aphrodite’s fist collided with his nose, causing him to stumble back as gasps filled the pavilion.

“Never ever call me princess again, yeah?” Maya smiled sweetly at Luke, her green eyes shining mischief like dazzling emeralds. "Because, baby, I can hit so much harder than that. Got me?”

Luke groaned as he clutched his nose. Maya knew how to punch; he was sure that she had broken his nose at how hard her fist collided with his nose. But she didn’t seem bothered by the impact, as she didn’t even check her knuckles to see if they were bleeding like Luke’s nose was. The way she threatened him? It was enticing, as if her voice had power over him.

“Aren’t you just a little vixen?” Luke spluttered, blood still dripping from his nose.

Everyone around them started whispering. It was like Luke was in one of those movies he once watched as a child. He glanced at table eleven; Matt was groaning, Chris had his eyes closed shut, and the others were shaking their heads as they suppressed their laughter.

Luke faced Maya again, although he moved two steps back just in case. “Princess,” he bent his head down, slowly looking up at her, still as arrogant as ever.

“You’ve got three seconds to run before I-” Before Luke could finish hearing Maya speak, someone pulled him from behind, dragging him away.

“Are you insane?” Matt hissed, pushing Luke to sit down. “We told you not to mess with her! Look what it got you!”

“What? I made progress,” Luke grinned, wiping off the blood oozing out of his currently broken nose and making a mental note to go back to the infirmary for maybe some ambrosia or nectar.

“P-Progress?” Matt says incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief at the new member of his cabin, who was just as annoying as their father. “You call that bloody nose fucking progress!?”

“I mean, I think she likes me,”

Chris snorts from beside Matt. “I think she knocked his head hard,”

Everyone around table eleven started laughing at poor Luke’s misery, making him scowl. “What’s so funny?”He grumbles, wiping his nose once more.

“You,” one of the younger kids chuckled. “Maya did rock your world.”

Fits of laughter broke out, as if they had just played off the greatest prank of all time. Luke sighed, taking another glance at table ten.

Maya was smiling and talking to her siblings as if she hadn’t punched him just a minute ago. The audacity of this girl, Luke thought. Being pretty and all that, who does she think she is?

Matt, as if sensing his thoughts, gave Luke a pat on the shoulder. “Come on, brother, let’s get that nose of yours fixed.”

Luke gave him a small nod before rising to his feet, feeling a little light-headed but managing to walk nonetheless. The son of Hermes took one final glance at table ten before Matt pulled him out, Chris following closely behind.

As soon as the trio were out of earshot of the pavilion, Matt stopped in his tracks, causing Luke to almost trip on a rock. “Hey! What was that for?”

“First thing’s first,” Matt started, taking a look around to see if there was anyone else nearby. “Amaya Williams is never a good idea.”

“Yeah, you told me the first time.” Luke rolled his eyes, mildly getting annoyed at his older brother. “Anything else?” He asked with a sarcastic tone.

“As I was saying,” Matt continued, grabbing Luke by the shoulders. “She is the devil reincarnate. I swear to the gods, Luke, that girl is more terrifying than Zeus.”

“You’re terrified by a girl four years younger than you?” Luke snorts, raising a brow teasingly.

Matt glared at him, letting go of his shoulders. “Yes, I am; as a matter of fact, I’ve been one of her victims.”

“Wait, isn’t that illegal?”

“Yeah, well, nothing’s stopping that girl when she’s set her eye on something,” Matt sighs. “She was thirteen; I was seventeen. I know, I know, it sounds wrong, but she managed to break my heart in a week.”

“A week?” Luke chuckles, impressed by how quickly Matt got his heart broken. “Wow, that might just be a world record.”

Matt smirked, turning to walk forward. “Her record is three days.”

“Three days!?”

“Come on, lover boy, keep up,” Matt called over his shoulder, laughing slightly. “We gotta get that nose fixed!”

“Yeah, keep up, Luke!” Chris grinned, walking backwards along Matt.

Luke watches his brother’s figure slowly fade from view as he stands there, dumbfounded.

Three days. Maya Williams’ record is three goddamn days.

This is going to be harder than I thought. Luke wasn’t one to be like her, breaking hearts and all that. He was rethinking his decision; he wasn’t sure if he could handle the girl—she was a hurricane of sugar and spice, and it was enough to lure Luke into her blazing winds like an idiot. Who on earth would get into a hurricane for fun.

Sure, Matt and the others have warned him about her, but when has Luke ever listened? He’s lost count of the number of times Thalia has called him a stubborn little shit.

Luke thought back to Maya, her pretty emerald eyes, and how they sparkled with the same mischief he’s seen in his own eyes. He was sure her irises changed into blue, brown, green, and even pink, like a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors. If Luke had stared at her eyes longer, he was sure that he’d be a. hypnotized, and b. attacked for staring at her for a long period of time.

"Luke, are you coming?” Chris’ voice snaps him out of his thoughts, remembering his broken nose.

Instinctively, his fingers touch his nose. It was crooked from Maya’s punch; the blood that spilled a few minutes ago was already dry from the summer afternoon breeze. “Yeah, coming!” Luke calls back, running towards his younger brother. “Where’s Matt?”

“Matt went to the cabin, he says he’s gonna go fix a place for you so it’s ready after your nose gets fixed,” Chris explains, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Let’s go, I think Sofia’s still at the Infirmary.”

“Who?”

“Sofia, camp’s head healer. Don’t worry, she’s good! She’s healed me too, twice, I think?” Chris raised his arm up, revealing a long scar. “I got this yesterday when we were training with swords with Marco Leon.”

“You good with a sword now, Chris?” Luke asks, smiling at him as the Big House comes into view.

“I think,” Chris says, unsure. “I’m still getting the hang of it.”

“I can help you, if you’d like?”

Chris’ eyes light up at the offer. “Really?”

Luke nods, remembering the times he fought monsters with the sword he and Thalia came upon months ago. “I’ve gotten good with a sword, I guess.”

“Teach me, teach me, teach me!” Chris begs, causing Luke to chuckle.

“Of course,” Luke agrees, still chuckling. “Tomorrow, then?”

Chris smiles at his older brother, wrapping his arms around Luke, causing him to stumble back. “Thank you!”

Luke smiles back, patting the boy awkwardly on the back. He’s never had anyone else hug him like this other than Annabeth. For a moment, Luke thought about his little sister. Would she be jealous that he has another sibling? It was nice to have someone rely on him as an older figure. He felt that for the first time, when he and Thalia first found Annabeth, Luke felt responsible for the first time in his life—he had a family, one he didn’t have growing up.

“You’re welcome, kid,” Luke chuckles as Chris pulls away. “Now come on, let’s get my nose fixed.”

The two stepped inside the Big House, Chris leading Luke to the infirmary.

As soon as the duo entered, Luke was engulfed with the smell of freshly baked cookies. It must be the ambrosia. There were cabinets—a lot of them—lining the walls; they were filled with jars of nectar and cubes of ambrosia wrapped individually and sitting in baskets. There were also tables with medical equipment—like bandages, gauze, antiseptics, and more. Luke wondered why he and Annabeth hadn’t noticed the contents of the room earlier; maybe they were just too tired to even notice.

“I see you have a broken nose.” A voice spoke, startling Luke. The girl looked around Matt’s age; she had short blonde hair with pink ends and was wearing scrubs. She reminded Luke of the nurse in the show Thalia showed him once. “Hi, I’m Sofia.” she smiled, reaching out a hand for him to shake.

“Luke,” Luke smiles back, taking her hand. Sofia seemed kind; that was good. Luke had a fear of nurses before; when he was in kindergarten, he needed a flu shot, and the nurse who gave him the vaccine was not very nice.

“Let me guess, a certain Aphrodite kid?” Sofia asked, pulling her hand away with a knowing smile.

“How’d you know?”

“Well, with the number of kids I had to fix up in the past two years, I’d say I know who the culprit is. A pretty little devil, she is.”

Chris sat down on one of the beds, his feet swaying back and forth. “Maya punched him super hard, and it’s his first day,”

“And on your first day?” Sofia chuckles, making her way towards one of the cabinets, grabbing a basket full of ambrosia and a few jars of nectar. She placed them on one of the tables; maybe it was a refill of stocks, but Luke wasn’t sure. “You’ve got guts, huh?”

“You could say that,” Luke laughed sheepishly. “I just tried to be friends with her.”

“Yeah, right,” Sofia laughs, not believing Luke in the slightest. “Sit beside Chris, I’ll clean that blood off,” she says, jerking her head in Chris’ direction.

Luke nods, making his way to sit beside his brother as he watches Sofia get some cotton balls and alcohol from the tables around the room.

“Here, eat this,” Sofia gave him half a square of ambrosia. It smelled like the cookies his mother used to bake—the good ones that weren’t burned to a crisp. Luke muttered a quick thank you before taking a bite.

Sofia poured alcohol onto the cotton ball. "Okay, so what did you do to earn a broken nose?”

“He tried flirting with Maya,” Chris answers with a grin. “We tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“You should’ve listened,” Sofia hummed, cleaning the blood off Luke's skin. “That girl? She’s a feisty one.”

“Yeah, a real spitfire.” Luke snorts, shaking his head slightly. His thoughts went back to the girl in question, her voice as sweet as honey replaying in his head. Luke wondered if every child of Aphrodite was like her, with a voice so enticing.

“There,” Sofia says, putting the used cotton ball to the side. “All clean! Just finish up the ambrosia, and you’ll be good, unless you get acquainted with Maya’s fist again.”

Probably will. “I won’t, thanks.” Luke hopped off the table, Chris following suit.

“Thanks, Sofia!” Chris waves before getting out the door with Luke.

“Don’t get into trouble!” Luke hears Sofia call out, making him chuckle. Trouble, what a strange concept for a runaway son of Hermes.

“Come on, let’s go to our cabin. I bet Matt’s already got you somewhere to sleep.”

“Why is everything so far apart?” Luke mutters as the two walk out of the Big House.

“Dunno,” Chris shrugs. “I think everyone’s just gotten used to it.”

“You’re used to it?”

Chris shakes his head. “No, but I try to. I mean, I’m not gonna get anywhere if I don’t walk.”

“Fair point,”

The two continued to walk, passing by the volleyball pit with high school age kids playing a heated match and then the canoe lake, where a few kids were chatting and others were paddling on boats.

Finally, they arrived at the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. Each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), and they looked absolutely nothing like Luke expected.

Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight that it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a common area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops. In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined fire pit.

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old camp cabin, with an emphasis on Old. The threshold was worn down, and the brown paint was peeling. Over the doorway was a caduceus. Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls—way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over the floor. Luke thought Hermes was the god of money, and he can’t even afford a bigger cabin?

“Luke, over here! ” Luke heard Matt’s voice calling him over. He made his way towards Matt while Chris sped off to some of the other campers who were all hunched over something Luke thought to be interesting to a nine-year-old.

“I got you a sleeping bag.” Matt jerked his head towards the sleeping bag on the floor. “And some toiletries from the camp store. Grover brought over your things too.”

“Thanks, Matt,”

“No problem.” Matt smiles, giving him a pat on the arm.

Luke took a look around the worn-out cabin. All the campers were younger than him, even the ones during lunch were significantly younger too. He wonders how on earth Matt managed to look after a cabin full of kids. Since with Thalia and Annabeth, Luke was on the verge of pulling his own hair out.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah?” Luke hums, his attention going back to Matt.

“I’m going off to college by the end of August,”

“Oh,” Luke murmured, wondering why he’s telling him that he’s going to college in two months. “Good for you.”

“You’re the oldest, after me,” Matt explains. “I think you’d be a great head counselor for eleven.”

“Me?” Luke asks, confused as to why Matt thinks he’d be a great counselor.

“Yeah, you’re the best candidate, since you’re fourteen and quite responsible.”

Luke sighs, shaking his head. “I’m honored, Matt, really, but I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Of course, you can! You’ve taken care of a kid before, right? Annabeth? It’ll be fine, trust me. And besides, you’ll get my bunk!”

Luke raises a brow at him. “That’s comforting, how?”

“Come on, it’s a good deal. I mean, you get a comfy bed.” Matt pushed, hoping Luke would agree.

“Again, how?”

“You’d have a few benefits, like staying out late, chaperoning trips to Olympus, and giving out orders and punishments.”

Luke thought about it. Staying out late did sound nice, especially when he wanted to get some time alone. Chaperoning seems a little overwhelming, but giving out orders and punishments is tempting. “Alright, I agree.”

Matt clapped his hands together. “Great! I’ll tell Chiron by the end of next month. But you’ve got to keep it a secret, alright? We don’t need people getting mad about the decision.”

“My lips are sealed,” Luke chuckles, running a finger over his lips, as if he were zipping them.

“Now, come on, let’s get you toured!”

Luke stumbles into the dining pavilion with Matt and Chris, laughing heartily. The boys, sweaty and hungry, made their way to their table for dinner—barbeque brisket and mac and cheese, which made Luke’s stomach grumble at the smell alone.

“I’m starving!” Chris says, plopping onto one of the seats of eleven. “I think I can eat a whole bowl of food!”

Luke sat beside him, grinning from ear to ear. “Me too; I think I could eat a whole pegasus,” he laughs, reaching for a grape from the bowl in the middle of their table as he takes a look around the pavilion in search of Annabeth.

He spots Annabeth, smiling happily at one of her sisters, as she explains something—about architecture, Luke assumed, since Annabeth babbles about it most of the time—to her. Luke waves at his little sister, who beams at him and waves back before turning back to face her sister.

Luke's gaze then fell on the table right across his, flaming red hair settling into his view. Maya had her hair done in some sort of braid, Luke didn’t know what it was called, but it was pretty. It made her look like a Greek princess—duh—as she talked to one of her brothers, a strawberry blush on her cheeks and lips matching her locks.

“You’re staring at her,” Matt whispers in his ear with a chuckle. “Careful, you don’t want another broken nose.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Luke scowls at his brother, rolling his eyes. “I was thinking of how to make her fall in love with me.”

“Tough luck, kid!” Matt laughs, shaking his head. “She’s a hard one; as I’ve told you, she’s the–”

“I know, she’s the devil reincarnate, you’ve been telling me the whole day.”

Matt sighs, taking a sip of his drink. “So, stop trying your luck, it’s not worth any of the trouble.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit that it’s fun.” Luke chuckles, reaching for the goblet in front of him. “What do I do again with this?”

“Ask it for whatever you want to drink, non-alcoholic, of course,” Matt answers before chugging his own drink. “Like so, raspberry lemonade.”

Luke watches as the cup fills on its own with pink liquid. “Woah,” he mumbles, before turning to his own. “Cherry coke.” The goblet in his hands filled as quickly as Matt’s did, fizzy dark liquid right in front of his eyes. “So cool!”

Luke wonders what Annabeth asked for in the goblet. His little sister never liked fizzy drinks; she says it makes her tummy feel funny. Maybe she went for a lemonade, like Matt, or an orange or pineapple juice because of its benefits, as she’s told him and Thalia so many times to even count. Thalia would prefer a crisp root beer. No more questions with that; Luke’s learned that the hard way.

Luke’s eyes landed again on Maya, making him wonder what her favorite drink is too. Maybe strawberry soda? Or maybe she doesn’t like soda? Maybe she prefers juice, like Annabeth does. Whatever she preferred, Luke was sure it was delicious, like his cherry coke.

“You coming to the bonfire later or are you heading straight to bed?” Chris asks through bites of food, sounding a little unintelligible, but Luke manages to understand.

“What do you guys even do at bonfires?”

"Well, for starters, we sing,” Matt chuckles. “But usually, the Aphrodite kids request songs that are, in my opinion, better than what we got used to singing. Down by the Aegean? Hell no, Uptown Girl is better.”

“I heard Chiron’s going to announce whether we have Capture the Flag next week.” One of the campers in table eleven piped up.

“Capture the flag?”

“It’s a camp tradition, kind of like War Games,” Matt answers, seeming a little excited. “It’s a weekly game, although it’s been canceled for the last two weeks because of a flu outbreak. It’s where two teams are given a flag each to protect. To win, one team must capture the opponent’s flag and bring it over the creek, which is the border.”

“Sounds fun,” Luke comments. “Which team are we on?”

“Blue,” Matt grumbles, turning to look at the Ares table. “With cabins six and seven.”

“Athena and Apollo, right?”

“Yeah,” Matt nods, sighing softly. “The losing team.”

“Red always wins,” Chris says, a frown making its way onto his lips. “Ares, Aphrodite, Demeter, Dionysus, and Hephaestus. Matt says it’s been years since Blue won a match.”

“Aphrodite plays in the games?” Luke snorts. “Aren’t they supposed to be prissy princes and princesses?”

“Wish they were,”

Luke turned to look back at table ten. Maya was sitting on the table, legs crossed over each other, as she laughed with a boy around their age. Luke was sure that the boy wasn’t her sibling—judging by the way he looked at her, that weasel of a boy had intentions. Luke wasn’t that worried, since Maya looked like she knew what she was doing. Another notch on her belt, perhaps, that boy.

All of a sudden, an idea came into Luke’s mind. The son of Hermes stood up from his seat, fixing his shirt (as if that would help) and messing his hair up slightly.

“Where are you going?” Matt asks, eyes narrowed at Luke. “Don’t you think about it, Luke,” he warned, despite knowing that Luke would.

“Watch me get the girl,” Luke smirks at his brother, before sauntering over to the table right across eleven’s.

Matt groaned, shaking his head. “Why must you give me stubborn siblings, Dad?” He mutters, running a hand over his face in frustration.

As soon as Luke arrives at table ten, he smiles at the daughters of Aphrodite before slinging his arm over Maya’s shoulder—who didn’t seem to notice his presence until now.

The head counselor of cabin ten glares at him, but before she could utter a word, Luke turned his attention to the confused boy in front of them. “Hey man, what are you doing talking to my girl?” Luke asks, raising a brow at the boy standing just a few inches away.

Maya scoffs, pushing Luke’s arm off of her. “I am not-”

“You can go now,” Luke tells the boy, waving his hand and dismissing him like a servant he’s seen in shows before. The boy glares at Luke before making his way back to his own table, which was Hephaestus’.

“You son of a bitch!” Maya hisses, pushing him away from her. Her eyes turned an angry shade of black, and she glared at him intensely. “Do you have any fucking idea who you’re messing with!?”

“My, my, princess, such vulgar language,” Luke grins, leaning forward, leaving little over an inch of space between him and the devil.

“Let's not repeat lunch, shall we?” Maya says through gritted teeth, her eyes shifting back to emerald green as she takes three steps away from Luke.

"Oh, but princess, I don't think you'd want to hit me with Chiron around, do you?” Luke smirks, leaning against the table slightly, looking a little arrogant for Maya’s liking.

“You think I won’t, newbie?”

“I think,” Luke starts, rubbing his chin dramatically, like he’s seen Thalia do before when they acted out shows for Annabeth. “You’re pretty hot when you’re mad.”

“You’ve got some nerve, don’t you?” Maya scowls at Luke, folding her arms over her chest.

“What? I’m just trying to be nice, princess.”

“I swear to the gods, if you call me that one more time, newbie,”

“You’ll what?” Luke taunts, taking a step forward, a smirk on his annoying face.

“You’re fucking asking for it.” Maya growls, grabbing his arm and twisting it over his back with a hard thrust. Everyone was looking at them, and it got Luke wondering why anyone hasn’t stopped her yet.

“Ouch, woman! Violence is never the answer!” Luke struggled in her grasp; for a girl, the son of Hermes had to admit that she was strong—stronger than Thalia, perhaps? Maybe Luke could beat the daughter of Aphrodite in a sword fight, though.

Maya let go of his arm, pushing him slightly away. “That should teach you,” she smiled, that sickeningly sweet smile of hers that was beginning to grow on him. The head of cabin ten turned around, making her way back to her seat, her long hair dancing like flames in the evening light.

“Damn, princess, you’re making this harder for me than it is for you,” Luke smirks, shaking his arm to make sure he can still move it after Maya’s attempt to break it.

Maya stopped in her tracks, just barely an inch from her seat beside Silena, and before Luke Castellan could avoid it, Amaya Williams charged at him, her fist colliding with his face, again.

taglist: @lilmaymayy @mxtokko @ma1dita @jennapancake @sc4rl3ttdafoxx

#fic feedbacks <333 #luke castellan x maya williams

43 notes · View notes

lixzey · 4 days

Text

You’re pressing yourself against him, face hidden in his shirt as your brain catches up to your heart, hasty breaths and every atom of your being screaming to be held together by him and then you’re on him, through tears and clenched fists tumbling towards the tiny twin bed. The only way he likens himself to his father is his yearning to be a true traveler, but what he knows best out of anything in this entire world is you. He knew this body once too— every birthmark, scar, and dimple. Who else has had the privilege to navigate the ridges of your spine, to know the pressure of your kiss? A tattoo peeks out to say hello at your hip bone. There are new stories and new marks, there are parts of you unknown to him now. Luke thinks that must be what hurts most about each time he leaves you.

JO, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU ARE PAYING FOR MY THERAPY 😭

“Who else has had the privilege to navigate the ridges of your spine, to know the pressure of your kiss?”

😭😭😭😭

don't mind me here, just crying in the middle of the heat 😭

love me dry

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

words: 4.5k

summary: (post-TLT) The one where he meets you at his mother’s house, though both of you didn’t expect the other to be there. A glimpse into May Castellan’s perfect day (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: sorry for the hiatus! been on the study grind and didn’t even notice, but i’ve been working on this for a bit! macbeth references (comment if you catch them/or ask and i’ll yap) and slight suggestive stuff under the cut—but anyways let’s just say the prophecy by taylor swift came out at the right time.

(posted 4/19/24, semi-edited)

—

The drive to Westport has become almost an afterthought in these past few years— in the way you unconsciously reach for your favorite hoodie on the way out the door or tuck in your chair before you leave a table, almost automatic but ingrained with a touch of care. With letters to May Castellan occupying your passenger seat instead of the boy who wrote them, you’d make the drive multiple times but stop short just before the property line. It took months of parking at the bottom of the hill and just watching the sun set on the little house, so clearly being able to imagine a smaller version of him running around and wreaking havoc.

Little Luke, with bandaged knees and feet that move as fast as his motor mouth, amber eyes glinting like windchimes in the summer breeze. His mom must’ve watched him play by himself through the bay window before calling him home when the clouds covered the horizon, wispy tendrils stretching over the rain gutter like how lovers hold hands. It must’ve reminded her a lot of his father, leaving nothing but the open air in his wake. Still, all of this was familiar to you too—despite having never stepped foot in the white house.

But knowing Luke meant knowing his home like it was a part of you.

The old hatchback’s engine gently rumbled against the quiet of the property each time you visited, and May would wait for you to come near— waiting for you to be ready to walk into a mausoleum of the boy you both once knew. You were familiar to her too, even as a blurry figure hunched over the steering wheel. She’s seen your face in the small glimpses between the shattering earth of her reality and the hazy foresight she lets herself succumb to remember what her son looks like. In every vision of him since he’s left, you’ve been there; and something about that quells the pain and anguish that it brings to her body when she sees it. But May Castellan is ever an observant woman, gift of prophecy aside. A mother always knows.

It also turns out that she makes excellent conversation over a plate of slightly singed chocolate chip cookies.

—

Luke Castellan is years older than the version of him that last sat at this kitchen table. He doesn’t know if he’s any wiser for it—wondering if he’s made a mistake in coming back here after all this time as he watches his mom hustle around the kitchen that’s suspiciously sparkling clean. A silver spoon clinks against the glass pitcher that May stirs mixed berry Kool-Aid in, his favorite, he remembers, and it makes him squint against the light that filters through the gauzy curtains of the windowpane above the sink. Luke could’ve sworn that there used to be badly patched rips in the fabric, but he attributes it to the dark corner of his memory he still hides away like a secret. Sitting there and taking it all in, he wonders what it would’ve been like to actually grow up here—to stay, for once.

But that’s something he doesn’t have the privilege of knowing. When his mom turns to hand him a glass with her shaking hands, wrinkles and laugh lines are mapped across the expanse of her face. He’ll never know how they got there. The wooden chair creaks under him, groaning under the weight that he carries and Luke once again feels uncomfortable in a place he once called home.

“Knew you’d come back. A mother always knows,” May mutters, voice disembodied like she’s floating just out of reach. Her hands clasped over his, rubbing her thumbs over the veins as if she’s checking his pulse (or the possibility of him being an apparition) and the crack in her smile mirrors his. But this isn’t the home he remembers—his frontal lobe was underdeveloped back then and the only plan it could form was the one to get him the hell out of Westport, there’s something different in the details. Tiny things, like the patio swing chain reattached to its post, a mended table leg, and ceramic tiles on the countertop unbroken and smooth. This is a home and a mother he once longed for as a kid, along with the feeling of comfort and safety you can only attribute to a place like this. Calculating eyes scan the perimeter of the kitchen, but no one knows he’s made the trip to Westport, not even his own crew. Surely nothing could mess this up for him, not here. This was his last step before his quest for redemption eats away at his physical body, and then it will all be out of his hands.

There’s not much left for me here, he thinks— there’s not much of me left here, either.

Then Luke hears you before he sees you—the sound of you humming under your breath mixed with the jingle of keys turning in the front door. With bags of groceries leaving marks on your arms and a soft smile he hasn’t seen you wear in ages, for once you look lighter again. For a moment, the thought crosses his mind that this must be what you look like when he’s not around. Nonetheless, he breathes easier when you’re near. Of course, you’re here, and the irony grips him by the neck almost as if to make it known why his home feels like home again.

“Yeah hon, I’ll have to call you back,” you laugh into your headphones before tapping them with one free finger to end the call. In a split second, your eyes meet. Staggering back at the sight of him sitting at the table and the absolute grin on May’s face, you decide to continue into the space ahead and start putting the groceries away like nothing is out of sorts.

“I see you have a visitor, Miss May. Is he staying long?”

Luke sips at his glass, juice extra tart just how he likes it. His lips pucker at the taste it leaves in his mouth and when he opens his mouth there’s a hint of blue. You try not to look too long.

“For the night,” he answers, even if you weren’t talking to him, but it makes May so vibrant with the notion of him not running again that she instantly hops to her feet and rushes to make the bed in his old room. “I won’t be in your way,” he swallows. You gravitate towards him like a moth to a flame, but move around his chair without touching him—further proving that Luke is, in fact, an obstacle you must overcome. He’s a stranger in his own home and you’ve found yourself at ease in it. You wonder if any of that will make a difference in the long run.

“She’s…”

“More peaceful. I’ve been practicing with my dad, so I do what I can to ease her fits but I’m not exactly equipped to lift a curse from Hades,” you mutter through a bitten lip. Luke stares at you but it feels nostalgic, like someone on the outside looking in. Well, shit. He’s been leading demigods to their deaths every summer and you’ve been trying to cure his mentally ill mother in the time you don’t spend trying to stop him.

“I don’t think I even remember the last time she made sense while talking to me,” he laughs hollowly. You purse your lips and shrug, “I visit her every two weeks. She still has her triggers, and she gets confused but she’s not in pain. Your letters helped.”

“Is that why you came here then?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” you joke feebly. It falls flat and yet he still smiles, even when you say, “They weren’t for me.”

“They were about you. All of them were.”

You know that too. May makes you read them to her before bedtime as you stroke her hair and send her off to Hypnos. You’ve relived your relationship with Luke a million little times, and he’s written about you and all of your yesterdays like it was the only glimpse of Elysium he’d ever reach. In those letters, you get to remember the good parts of being in love—laughing in the empty amphitheater, holding hands under the dining table, sneaking kisses in the strawberry fields.

You used to understand each other so well: every dream, every feeling. But there is nothing you understand about the man sitting across from you now. The both of you sit at the kitchen table and there is nothing more to say.

Luke doesn’t have to stay. While you were at the supermarket, he spent an hour trying to explain to his mother that he needed her blessing to swim in the River Styx. Through nuances and veiled simplicity in the words he weaved to convince her, there wasn’t much opposition in her half-empty, half-prophetic mind. May always knew that Luke loved to swim when she took him to the beach, and that was that.

There was nothing more to say.

—

He knows it’s too good to be true when moments later May’s screams carry through the halls of the little house, down the stairway you’re currently clambering up to reach her. By the time his boots reach the second landing, he finds the two women he loves most in a huddle against the linen closet, his mother’s glowing green eyes and empty groans rattling him to the bone. If he were any smaller, he’d be shaking. Even now he doesn’t know what to do— feet frozen as he watches you brush her curls away from her face and lull her to solace.

“Can’t find Luke’s sheets—he needs the Toy Story ones…” May mutters as she rocks on her heels, “My boy needs to be home…He’s meant to be home!” Her fingernails are cutting into your wrists and then she silences with a wave of your hand.

“He’s home, Miss May. He’s right there,” you whisper. When your eyes look at Luke, you watch him crumble—the cracks in his fortitude tumbling like fallen rocks at the sight of the two of you and then you see him. The boy you met at 14 who was angry at the world for making him run away from his mother and the hands of fate until it crept up to snuff him out for the sake of a prophecy foretold by deities who will never understand what it’s like to be human. But there are no second chances, and there is nowhere left to run. “He’s here for you. I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

“I see it, the two of you together. The worst will be over soon, and then it’ll all make sense,” she says breathily, licking her lips and straightening herself like nothing happened. Even after you send her off to prepare a basket for the beach, Luke doesn’t move when his mother pats his arm and walks around his body and towards the stairs. Neither of you speak until your fingers touch his jaw lightly, and Luke doesn’t know if you’re trying to help him or inspect him. He tilts down to look at you anyway.

“She thinks we’re still together.”

He blinks. Somehow that’s the most shocking thing he’s heard today. Fate is most definitely cruel and fucked up because he never expected it to be like this—once upon a time he hoped he could take you home to meet his mother when everything was said and done; no shackles from Titans or pressure from the gods. It was supposed to be different.

“The letters probably didn’t help as much as you thought they would then,” he mumbles, calloused hands guiding your hands over to his swiftly beating heart. You scoff, “Neither does bringing up my boyfriend. She thinks it’s you.” He’d believe anyone who’d say they watched you yank his heart out of his chest with that statement, everything bloody in your hands. It’s still yours, even if you don’t want it.

“Kit?”

You shake your head and shrug, “That was forever ago. But he treats me well.”

Luke wants to ask more but by the tension in your shoulders, he knows not to push. He’s not entitled to know anything more than what you give him. It’s not his place anymore. So his brow furrows at your next suggestion.

“Just pretend, Luke. For the day, so your mom doesn’t get agitated. I’m not asking for much here.”

It’s a terrible, terrible idea—even you know that. But you both have always been good pretenders. Liars, a voice corrects in the back of your mind. You reason that it’s for May and insist upon that fact, even if the heartbroken girl you left at Camp Half-Blood is raging at you from deep inside the recesses of your mind that you hide her in. What’s one day with him compared to the many you’ve gone without? You don’t need to know the rest of why he’s here, or what more he’s going to do— and you don’t ask.

Not knowing has always hurt less.

—

You’ve forgotten how good Luke is at playing the part of a good boyfriend. He offers to drive to the beach, carries the picnic basket and blanket for you all to sit on, and listens intently when May asks about your college classes. There’s no discomfort in the way he holds your hand as you walk in the sand or dusts your feet off before laying them across his lap. It’s easy to laugh at his bad jokes, it’s easy to act like the boyfriend you describe is anything like him (even if he’s the complete opposite), and it’s too damn easy to fall into the familiar rhythm that is you and Luke. The three of you lay down as the spring breeze covers you from the rest of reality, hiding away from the truth of a broken woman and two ex-lovers. By late afternoon, you find yourself enjoying it, and it’s cruel how the guilt isn’t rolling off you in waves, instead longing for him to follow you anywhere.

He meets you by the shoreline with both of you waist-deep in the water. May’s collecting seashells but she turns to look at you two every so often like she’s framing this memory in her fragile mind. Without saying it out loud, the both of you hope it will hold.

“She always talks about you, you know? Even without trying,” you mutter as saltwater pours from your fingers to the valleys made by the veins in his forearms. It’s like initiating touch without the consequences of actually doing it, and he immerses himself in the feeling as it spills over him, feet rocking against the tide.

“I do too. Can’t help it.”

When the sea ripples once more pushing you against the wall of his body, you end up holding on, and he doesn’t let go. You both smell like salt and sunshine, pressed together and nothing has made more sense. The silence goes on for a beat too long—he whispers, “You still talk about me? Your boyfriend must hate that.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk about you? For anyone to get to know me, they have to know you.”

Your shirt is stuck to your skin in the surf and Luke’s hands brush over the waistline of your underwear, daring to reacquaint himself with your touch and spur a reaction from you. You may be the best actress he’s ever known but anything is better than watching you be complacent with the false niceties of the day.

“There isn’t much worth knowing.”

“I’d never say that, Luke,” jaw tensing, you let out a breath when his hands encircle your hips, hidden in plain sight in the deep of the ocean. He chuckles and the sound tickles your brain to remind you it's the type of laugh he spits out when he’s hiding his anger, “There’s a lot we’re both not saying.” Your name slips past his lips, sneaking past your defenses and hitting you head-on like a bullet.

“Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why are you helping his mother, why aren’t you actively fighting and turning him in, why are you letting him hold you if he’s only going to leave again—there are too many questions and only one clear answer.

“Because it’s out of our hands, isn’t it, Luke? You love your mother but you wouldn’t have come here unless it’s too late. Annie told me you went to see her in San Francisco.”

He was never here to make amends or save face. There was no version of him that was going to ask you to run away with him because he knows you deserve more than always running from fate. He’d do it all over again as long as you got this— the life you’re living with your college degree, your boyfriend, and your happy family— and Luke has no place in that.

A dry laugh bubbles from his throat, sticking like seafoam when he says, “You hate San Francisco.”

You wouldn’t have come.

—

By the time you get home for dinner, your skin is sensitive and tingly from the heat of the sun. May’s tracing circles into the back of your hand as she leads you up the patio steps. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that makes you sway against the doorway.

“Too much time having fun,” she mumbles, patting your cheek, “Take a cold shower dear. Join us when you’re ready?” Luke’s eyes follow you all the way up the stairs and then again, he’s left to his own devices.

Most of the said shower was spent thinking about what your friends would say about you for playing house with the enemy. The guilt felt like ice along your spine, paralyzing you for wanting to be selfish, to choose what makes you happy even if it fucks the rest of the world. But looking in the mirror afterward was scarier—you recognized the girl that stared back at you as someone you thought you’d never see again. A version you left behind years ago, with her head held high and so sure of herself with your Luke by your side.

Surely, there’s no harm in indulging in this vice for the rest of the night. Not when you haven’t felt this relaxed in years.

Dinner is being served by the time you make your way back downstairs. It’s a simple dish you taught Luke how to make back at camp when you raided the kitchens at midnight. Nothing special, reminding you of your own home—but the fact that he remembered makes your smile widen as you take a seat and promise to wash the dishes. Luke chuckles the type that makes his eyes crinkle in mirth once he watches you dig into your meal, knees brushing under the table like old times.

Everything feels easier after that.

“Today was the best day,” his mother mutters as you tuck the covers under her chin. May kisses both of your cheeks before she shuts her eyes and you gently fold the letter she chose tonight back into her nightstand for safekeeping. This time, you read her the story of your first kiss with Luke sitting at the foot of her bed in the dim light of her room. It’s less scary here than he remembers, but maybe it’s because this time there’s no screaming and him running to hide in the closet. Your voice is much more pleasant than those suppressed memories, immersing you all in a more pleasant one— the both of you in the amphitheater kissing on the stage with his hands in your belt loops. Luke could recite every word on that page if it meant he could go back in time, not with Backbiter but with you, just to live through that moment again. I think I’m falling in love with her, is how the letter ended but by then he already knew. Writing it down to tell his mother always made it real.

This, you, right here—everything is real.

He’s silent even as he watches you smoke through the cracked window of his childhood bedroom, and you’re surprised when he steals a puff. His hands are shaking under the moonlight and suddenly it’s clear that he’s scared. Everyone feels fear, but in all the years that you’ve known him, Luke Castellan has never let you see it.

“Those things will kill you one day,” you mumble, watching him lean against the windowpane. It’s what he used to always tell you so that you’d quit, but old habits die screaming. It’s another vice you refuse to let go of.

“Wanted to try something new before I…” his voice drops off.

Lose myself.

Lose you.

Luke coughs as the smoke enters his lungs, a momentary rush hitting him brought by the nicotine. Your hands go to cup his jaw as you set your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to just be honest if there’s truly nothing left to lose.

“I’m out of time, trouble. It’s out of my hands.”

Shuddering at the feeling of him tracing every ridge of your spine, you think the way he says your nickname sounds like the way he used to say I love you. It’s raining outside now, the harsh pitter-patter of wet drops drowning out the sound of your voice, “What can I do? Is there anything left for me to do?” When his head shakes, your noses brush, and your breaths intermingle, almost magnetic. Perhaps the rain is getting in from the open window and you feel it hitting your cheek until you see the shine of his eyes.

“You think I did this because of you. I know you do, but you need to know I did all of this for you, trouble. I choose you and me. Every time,” Luke gasps, intertwining his fingers with yours, the both of you pushing and pulling in this embrace like the moon with the tide.

“Luke…”

But then why does this feel so good?

Warm palms caress your waist, nudging your shirt up in the hopes that this will be enough compensation for all his misdoings—the tears you’ve cried, the anger you’ve felt, the things you had to do and will have to do because of him. Luke is someone who’s gotten comfortable with manipulating time, but time has manipulated him and all of his plans for the both of you. Sleepy setback bedroom eyes meet his own that glow in the gentle light of the lamp on the nightstand. Maybe if you pretend again his childhood bedroom can turn into the star-speckled darkness of cabin 12. You can just lay down and tuck underneath his arms waiting for him to fall asleep. But he stays up this time, making you hiss at the feeling of his lips against your neck.

“We can’t… Angelface,” you say breathily, still leaning into the trail he marks across the valley of your collarbone, “We’re not together anymore.”

A kiss is placed on your pulsepoint, knocking against the cord of your necklace.

“We shouldn’t… I have a boyfriend.”

Another kiss rests against the warmth of your forehead.

“We’re on opposite sides of a war… You’re my enemy.”

Finally, his lips meet yours, for a moment as if to test the waters.

“Not tonight,” he says, and there is no other option but to agree. There is a lifetime to make up for in a night, and fuck it—they’ll crucify you anyway. You were never meant to be a hero, that’s what he always wanted. You just wanted him. Your head hits the pillow and he looms over you until you’re pulling him in for more than what’s necessary to accept an apology.

There’s nothing left to lose.

—

Before your mind can wake up dreading the consequences of last night, your socked feet take you to the kitchen to clean up the mess you’ve both left behind. The old floorboards creak underfoot and there’s a method in the way you’re washing the dishes, hot water and soap starting to seep through your shirt sleeve but you choose not to notice. Scrubbing at the dirt and grime left behind on the porcelain until your fingers start to prune, a lump forms in your throat before you can stop it. Maybe if you scrub hard enough at the glass that Luke drank out of last night it can eventually be clean. But it’s taking you longer than you thought, jaw tensing and fingers turning white at how hard you’re holding on. May appears behind you, guiding your hands away from the scalding water, and though you resist— the glass drops into the sink and shatters with a loud crack.

“Damn spot wouldn’t get out,” you sniff, turning away to look out the window and think of anything but him, but he’s everywhere even when he’s not here, so much so that it suffocates you. Guilt lines every shaking breath you take until lavender eyes meet amber at the sensation of her clasping your red and raw palms with a dishtowel.

You see him in her too.

“His fate is greater than the cards he’s been dealt with. You know that.”

It’s the clearest and most sensible May’s spoken in days. Perhaps when it comes to Luke, she’ll always know better. Eyes darting elsewhere to fight the tears that brim at your lash line, you look down at your swollen hands, palm up towards the heavens almost imploring, “Why couldn’t it be me?”

The question’s direction is unclear and you don’t expect to get an answer, turning away to grab some ice from the freezer and she remains standing there—staring at the windowsill at a compass that’s now found its home next to the faded picture of a man who’s left more times than there are reasons to stay. Just like his father, she thinks, a small smile quirking at the side of her lip where a scar would meet her son’s. Clicking it open delicately like how she used to hold his hand, there’s a photo of you and Luke resting against the cover ripped away from a memory frozen in time.

“It is you,” May says quietly, though you’ve already left the room.

A mother always knows, after all.

—

“Aphrodite,” I pleaded to the moon-drenched night sky. “Tell me; if love is meant to heal, then why does it destroy those who choose it?” From somewhere beyond the clouds, I heard the Goddess laugh. And I knew. -Nikita Gill

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan fanfic #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #ellie's fic recs 💘

375 notes · View notes

lixzey · 4 days

Text

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

holy shit, i just know this fic is gonna hurt so bad 😭 like, the prophecy alone? bro, i'm getting my tissues ready 🤭

THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN

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

series masterlist | previous | next

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

"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe."

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

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

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

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

"In a few hours."

"Oh."

"Are you upset?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are more than what your father thinks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke fic #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan series #percy jackson fanfic #luke pjo #pjo series #pjo fanfic #frances writes #ellie's fic recs 💘

377 notes · View notes

lixzey · 4 days

Text

luke “i want you on my team,” castellan 🤝 maya “so does everybody else,” williams

posting this edit of our heartbreaker, maya, to promiscuous by @sc4rl3ttdafoxx!!! go follow her on tiktok, guys!

this is so perfect, i can't!!! scarlett, i love you! 🥺🥰💘

#serendipity #amaya therese williams #luke castellan x maya williams #these two are my lifeline #they fuel my life #if y'all know how much i love these two you'd think i'm crazy af

4 notes · View notes