WRITER, POET AND AN ABSOLUTE DELULU. FORENSIC SCIENCE, PSYCHOLOGY AND CRIMINOLOGY NERD; ASIAN, TEEN. YOU'RE LOVED MY SWEETHEART, EAT OR DRINK SOMETHING. YOU'RE WORTH IT.
Wattpad: @Night_Moon_Lakmen
Tw- Sleepy kisses, so much smut. Oral (f!receiving), fingering. Cuddle sex. Horny young couples.
After the battle of Manhattan, many had assumed you two had ended your relationship with one dead after a sacrifice and the other still in camp with the badge of Aphrodite counselor on her chest.
What they forgot was how stubborn Aphrodite kids could be when it came to their love.
Even though Luke and you had been on different sides of the war, the gods themselves knew no one could truly separate you from him, the root from its tree, a daughter of Aphrodite from her lover. There was nothing he did that you supported other than his motives, but deep down everyone could see the way Luke felt for you even when he was possessed by Kronos.
The Titan Lord himself had admitted to him finding it incredibly strange and overwhelming, just how much the body felt for you. After he stabbed himself in the arm to end the battle, you had sworn to bring him back—even if you needed to give up your very title of the dagger of Aphrodite, the honor Aphrodite herself had bestowed upon you.
It hadn't been easy.
Days and nights through Tartarus and the underworld, quests and tasks for the gods, multiple fights with monsters and facing Nyx herself had taken their toll on you but you kept moving.
For him, for the boy with the sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen.
The day he had been returned to you, you already knew something was wrong with him. He felt paler and weaker, his body almost crumpling in your arms as you held him up to kiss and caress his face with your own bruised palms. The world had completely sucked him off his energy, his body having given away due to the pain of dying as a traitor in his own mind. Yet when he had spoken, his voice was one of hope and pure love.
"...Ribbons?"
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It had been 2 years after that. Away from Camp Half-Blood, away from the life of demigods and monsters, you two had created a small family where you two lived as normally as an ex-traitor and the ex-golden child of Aphrodite could.
A house in the outskirts of a city with a white fence, a black retriever he had named Oscar, and walls with the babiest shade of blue—it was everything you two had promised each other under the stars as young kids in love. The war, the crimson clovers that had been shed for you to get all of this, didn’t seem to matter whenever you were with him. Luke, now 24, had taken up a job as a marketing executive for a company you couldn't really remember and you had restarted your career as a model, earning enough money for both of you to live a comfortable life together.
**
The sun peaked through the windows, drenching the sheets of the young couple in its warm golden glow. The bodies under it stirred, the larger man wrapping an arm around the girl who was nuzzled against his bare chest.
"Mh.." he groaned, turning his head towards the window to mentally curse Eos for letting dawn in so soon. His brown hair was a mess around his face, spread out over the pink pillowcases his wife had forced him to put on his pillow as well ('to keep the hair healthy'), and as always he had given in to her pouty lips and the big e/c colored eyes.
His head lowered down to the girl sleeping against his chest, her hair ruffled over the side of her face like a curtain of pure beauty. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept, her lips parted open ever so slightly. She still wore those violet pajamas she had bought online a few months ago, even though he assured her he wouldn't mind it if she slept naked. His hand moved up to caress her face, a small wince coming upon his features as he saw the old scar on the side of her neck left from her battling one of the Telekhines who had tried to stop her on her way to him. It was filled in well now, the only scar left on her otherwise smooth skin.
Their platinum marriage bands were mirrors of each other, with their initials carved on it like some promise to never let go of each other.
From Tartarus to back, with each other.
"Good morning, Ribbons," he whispered, kissing the top of her ear in a way he knew she loved. The nickname had stayed with them from their time back at the camp, a reminder of how he used to tease her for her habit of adding a ribbon to everything she wore. "Wake up, baby."
His hand slowly trailed down her back, fingertips dancing along her spine, sending shivers through her body. She stirred slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his warm breath against her neck. He nuzzled closer, pressing gentle kisses along her neck, his lips brushing against her skin in a way that made her toes curl."Mmh... Luke," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, a sleepy smile spreading across her face."Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, his hand sliding up under her pajama top to caress her bare back. She arched into his touch, sighing contentedly as he traced lazy circles on her skin."Is it morning already?" she asked, her voice a mix of sleepiness and contentment.
"Unfortunately, yes," he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "But that doesn't mean we have to get up just yet."She giggled softly, turning in his arms to face him. Her hands came up to cup his face, pulling him into a slow, lingering kiss. He responded eagerly, deepening the kiss as his hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her hip."I like the sound of that," she whispered against his lips, her fingers threading through his hair. He smiled, kissing her again, more fervently this time, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, eliciting a soft gasp from her.
You're always so eager in the mornings," she teased, her lips brushing against his as she spoke."Can you blame me?" he murmured, his voice husky. "Waking up next to you like this... it's impossible to resist."
She blushed, her heart swelling with love for him. "I suppose I can forgive you," she said playfully, leaning in to capture his lips in another kiss. He groaned softly, his hand sliding down to cup her bottom, pulling her closer.
Their kisses grew more heated, their bodies pressing together, hands exploring and caressing. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her as he nuzzled against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he trailed kisses down her throat, his hands roaming over her body with a possessive tenderness.
His hands slid down her back, resting on her hips as he gently pulled her on top of him. She let out a soft laugh, her hair falling around them like a h/c curtain as she straddled his waist. He looked up at her, eyes filled with adoration, his hands tracing lazy circles on her thighs.
"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day I wake up next to you, I feel like the luckiest man alive."
She blushed, her heart fluttering at his words. Leaning down, she kissed him softly, her lips lingering on his as their bodies pressed closer together. His hands roamed up her sides, slipping under her top to caress the soft skin of her back. She sighed into the kiss, her fingers threading through his hair as she deepened it, their breaths mingling in the quiet morning air.
Luke's hands moved to the hem of her pajama top, slowly lifting it over her head and tossing it aside. His eyes roamed appreciatively over her exposed skin, his hands following the path of his gaze, brushing over her breasts and making her shiver.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper.
"Good," she replied with a playful smile, leaning down to press kisses along his jawline, her hands splayed on his chest. "Because you drive me crazy too."
He groaned softly, his hands gripping her waist as she continued to kiss her way down his neck. She could feel his heartbeat quicken under her touch, his skin warm and inviting. Her lips trailed down to his collarbone, her kisses growing more fervent as she moved lower.
Luke's hands moved up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She gasped, arching into his touch, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. He smiled up at her, his eyes dark with desire, before pulling her down for another deep, searing kiss.
"Gods, I love you," he breathed against her lips, his hands sliding down to grip her hips once more. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I’m never letting you go."
Her heart swelled at his words, her own hands roaming over his chest and abdomen, savoring the feel of his muscles under her fingertips.
"You don't have to do anything," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. "Just love me."
"Always," he promised, his hands sliding down to cup her bottom, pulling her closer. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, a reminder of the desire simmering between them. She ground against him, eliciting a low groan from his lips as his hands gripped her even tighter.
She smiled, leaning down to kiss him again, her lips trailing down his neck to his chest. Her hands roamed over his body, tracing the scars and lines she had come to know so well. Each touch, each kiss, was a promise, a reaffirmation of the love and desire that bound them together.
Luke's hands continued to explore her body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in another searing kiss, their bodies moving together in a slow, intimate dance. The world outside their little haven faded away, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other."I can't believe we made it here," she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion. "After everything... we're finally home."
His hands moved with a gentle insistence, guiding her hips as he shifted their positions, laying her back on the bed. He kissed her softly, his lips trailing down her neck, savoring the soft sighs and moans that escaped her lips. His hands slid down her sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with hers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Let's get these off," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide her pajamas down her legs, leaving her completely exposed before him.
His hands caressed her thighs, spreading them gently as he kissed his way down her body. Her breath hitched as his lips trailed over her stomach, each kiss sending shivers of anticipation through her. He paused for a moment, looking up at her with a gaze filled with love and desire.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "Every inch of you."
Before she could respond, his lips continued their descent, pressing gentle kisses along her inner thighs. She gasped, her fingers tangling in the sheets as he moved closer to her core, the anticipation making her heart race. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he lowered his mouth to her most intimate place.
The first touch of his tongue made her cry out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure surged through her. He moved with practiced skill, his tongue teasing and exploring, drawing soft moans and gasps from her lips. His hands held her firmly, keeping her in place as he lavished attention on her most sensitive spots.
"Luke," she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure. "Oh gods..."
He hummed in response, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that made her toes curl. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She could feel the tension building within her, the pleasure mounting with every touch, every flick of his tongue.
Her fingers found their way to his hair, gripping tightly as she rocked her hips against his mouth. He responded eagerly, his movements becoming more insistent, more focused. He knew exactly how to drive her to the edge, how to bring her to the brink of ecstasy and hold her there.
"Please," she gasped, her body trembling with need. "Don't stop..."
He had no intention of stopping. His tongue circled her clit, flicking and teasing, his lips closing around the sensitive nub and sucking gently. The sensation was too much, too intense, and she felt herself spiraling towards release.
Her cries filled the room as her climax crashed over her, her body shaking with the force of it. Luke held her through it, his tongue never faltering, drawing out her pleasure until she was a quivering, breathless mess. Only then did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening with her arousal.
He moved back up her body, pressing soft kisses to her flushed skin, his hands caressing her sides. When he reached her lips, he kissed her deeply, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, her hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him closer.
"I love you," he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with emotion.
"I love you too," she replied, her voice breathless and filled with love. "So much."
Luke's hands continued their exploration, his fingers trailing teasingly over her inner thighs. She shivered at his touch, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of her climax. He looked up at her, a devilish glint in his eyes as he licked his lips, savoring her taste.
"You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "I could do this all day."
"Luke," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of arousal and desperation. "Please..."
"Please what, baby?" he teased, his fingers inching closer to her core. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you," she gasped, her hips arching towards his hand. "I need you."
He grinned, his fingers slipping between her folds, finding her still wet and sensitive. He stroked her slowly, his touch deliberate and teasing. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So ready."
"Yes," she breathed, her body quivering under his touch. "I want you inside me."
His fingers dipped into her entrance, sliding in easily, making her moan. He moved them slowly at first, savoring the way she responded, her hips moving to meet his thrusts. "Gods, you're so tight," he groaned, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing in slow, tantalizing circles. "You feel so good around my fingers."
She whimpered, her hands clutching at the sheets as he increased his pace, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that sweet spot that made her see stars. "Luke," she gasped, her voice breaking with need. "I need more. Please..."
He withdrew his fingers, earning a disappointed whine from her, but it was quickly replaced with a gasp of anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs. He lined himself up, his tip brushing against her entrance, teasing her further.
"Do you want this?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper.
"Yes," she replied, her voice trembling with desire. "Please, Luke. I need you inside me."
With a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside her, filling her completely. They both moaned at the sensation, their bodies connecting in the most intimate way. He paused for a moment, letting her adjust to his size, his hands gripping her hips.
"You feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So perfect."
"Move," she pleaded, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "Please, Luke."
He didn't need to be asked twice. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, savoring the way she felt around him. Her moans filled the room, her body arching to meet his every movement, the pleasure building between them.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "So perfect. I love the way you feel."
"I love you," she gasped, her nails digging into his back as he increased his pace, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. "Oh gods, I love you so much."
"Come for me, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Let me feel you come around me."
His words pushed her over the edge, her climax crashing over her with a force that left her breathless. She cried out his name, her body tightening around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out her orgasm. The sensation of her walls clenching around him was too much, and with a few more thrusts, he followed her, spilling into her with a groan of pure pleasure.
They lay there, tangled in each other, their bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison. He kissed her softly, his hands caressing her sides as they both caught their breath.
"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Forever and always."
"Forever and always," she echoed, her heart full to bursting with love for the man who had given her everything.
"Now get up, mister Castellan, you're late for work already" She teased with a small smile as she flicked his forehead,but Luke only smiled.
"Hm," He agreed as he lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles thumb moving over the wedding band on her finger before he spoke again.
"I'll be alright as long as I'm late because of you,"
He looked at her, his brown eyes almost shimmering in tears.
Asael had always been a very nervous boy, which he hid from others. Due to his jovial nature almost no one seemed to notice the way his hands would shake when someone would suddenly touch him, especially women. They didn't notice how his eyes seemed to follow anyone who neared his creations, his heart pounding with the fear of criticism. It was one of the many things no one noticed in Asael.. Including the way he seemed to be attracted to fire. He was a pyromaniac, It was something the boy was incredibly ashamed of, often hiding away as he flicked his lighter open and close. The flame, the way it danced in front of him, calmed his nerves more than any medicine ever could. The way his brown eyes reflected the dancing flower of destruction was captivating to see, the trembling in his body seizing momentarily as he passed a finger over it. It never seemed to burn him, instead leaving a touch as warm as a gentle summer breeze over his skin.
Asael had a weird relationship with fire. It never burned him, yet he was terrified of letting other people know how he embraced it like a lost lover whenever other people left. Once, or maybe a few more times than he could count, he had tried to summon more fire out of the tiny spark and ended up creating small spurs of power as pure surprise to the boy. Yet he couldn't do it without a small spark of fire already present. He could control and evolve, but not create.
No one at the camp knew the things the young boy hid behind his brilliant facade, often shying away to the Hephaestus cabin's forge late at night to work on some project he was going to scrap either way. That's the first time he had noticed y/n.
Y/n was a new camper, at least from what he had noticed. Unclaimed, he had seen y/n hanging out with his Luke and a few of other Hermes kids during breakfast. It wasnt unusual for him to sit away from people while he thought about the things that had happened in his dream prior. His half siblings left him alone because they didn't want to get wacked on the head with a wench.
That's when the boy looked at him. He had often believed himself to be immune to burning, to be immune to the effects of fire- yet for some reason the boy burned him. Burned his intestines, the very foundation of being, by a simple smile of acknowledge. The way the boy's hair complemented his face, those e/c eyes twinkling with an air of knowing— it was excruciating to look at.
The boy was fire if it was human, and Asael forced himself to look away with the fear of being burned for the first time.
It happened again in the training area, where he was practicing the use of his modified crossbow which was meant to lock it's target and shoot it's shot more precisely. His knees were bruised from ducking, a part of his sleeve torn off due to one of the crossbows exploding right in his hand. Safe it say it wasn't going well for the frustrated boy, but it was better than being around the Hermes cabin.
"You planning on creating suicide devices?" That was the first time he heard fire's voice, and my god did it do justice to the way he looked.
"No, they're meant to be target locking crossbows but they just keep exploding," He explained with an air of frustrating, his hand raising to run his fingers through his mess of pretty brown hair that had some ombre tones of black. A sigh passed his lips as he placed the last crossbow down into a large packet full of crossbows- some broken and some sizzling.
"I think what you're doing wrong is using a tracker device on the crossbow and not what's being shot itself," the new guy said, perking Asael's interest immediately.
Please don't be a Hephaestus kid or he was going to stab himself in the brain with a pen.
"Yeah," He admitted, feeling his ears turn red. Jesus Christ, why did he have to have normal body functions right now? It would have been better if he was just a sentient cloud, floating through the sky.
What was he even thinking at this point? "Are you going to fix it?" The boy asked with a knowing smile, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Yeah," He said as he picked the packet up and waved the boy goodbye before attempting to run out of the training ground, only to slip and fall. shit. Standing up he ran forward again, one hand rubbing his shoulder which he had bumped against the ground when he had fell down.
Asael had tried to keep his distance to maintain his sanity, but Y/n seemed to appear everywhere he went, like an unshakable shadow. It was infuriatingly consistent, and the more he saw Y/n, the more his nerves frayed. In the mess hall, he would find Y/n's h/c hair catching the morning light, those e/c eyes twinkling with amusement as they shared a joke with the Hermes kids. Asael gritted his teeth and stared at his plate, trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. It was just hunger, he told himself, just nerves.
He’d go to the forge late at night, hoping for some solitude, only to catch sight of Y/n strolling by, humming a tune that Asael couldn't get out of his head for hours. He’d bury himself in his work, the clang of metal on metal a desperate attempt to drown out the annoying melody.
Training sessions became a particular kind of torture. Asael would focus on his targets, only for Y/n to materialize out of nowhere, offering unsolicited advice. "Try aiming lower," they’d suggest, their voice like molten honey. Asael would nod curtly, biting back a retort as his heart hammered against his ribs.
And then there were the encounters that seemed almost engineered to make Asael's life miserable. He’d be hiding away in some secluded corner, fiddling with his lighter, when Y/n would round the corner, eyes lighting up in recognition. "Hey, Asael!" they’d call out, a bright smile splitting their face.
He wanted to scream. Instead, he’d mumble a greeting, his fingers snapping the lighter shut with a sharp click. The flame was supposed to be his solace, not a signal flare drawing Y/n’s attention.
One evening, Asael decided to visit the lake, hoping the cool air and serene waters would help him relax. He found a quiet spot, far from the other campers, and settled down, letting the sound of the water calm his nerves. Just as he began to feel at peace, he heard footsteps approaching. "Mind if I join you?" Y/n asked, not waiting for a response before sitting down beside him.
Asael’s heart sank. "Sure," he muttered, staring resolutely at the water.
"Nice spot," Y/n said, leaning back on their hands, their presence warm and irritatingly comforting. "You come here often?"
"No," Asael lied, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.
Silence stretched between them, the kind that should have been awkward but wasn’t, and Asael hated it. He hated how Y/n’s company was becoming something he craved, how their presence burned him in ways he couldn’t ignore.
"I’ve noticed you like fire," Y/n said suddenly, their voice soft and probing.
Asael tensed, his fingers curling around his lighter. "What makes you say that?"
Y/n shrugged. "Just a feeling. You seem... different when you’re around it. More yourself."
Asael’s throat tightened. "It’s nothing," he said, flicking the lighter open and closed.
Y/n didn’t press further, just watched the flame dance, their expression thoughtful. "Fire can be beautiful," they murmured. "Dangerous, but beautiful."
Asael’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at Y/n, catching the way the firelight flickered in their eyes, making them look almost ethereal. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It can."
He found himself talking more about fire, something he rarely did with anyone. "It's not just about the flame itself," he said, his voice softening. "It's the way it moves, the way it consumes everything in its path but also gives warmth and light. It’s… comforting."
He realized he was rambling and abruptly stopped, cheeks heating up. "Sorry, that's probably just a Hephaestus kid thing," he mumbled, glancing away. "Fire..."
Y/n nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I know. My father is a professor in psychology. He often talked to me about how a pyromaniac's mind works."
Asael’s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, so you're not a Hephaestus kid," he blurted out, feeling a strange sense of relief. "Thank God."
Y/n chuckled. "Nope, not Hephaestus. Athena kid, actually."
Asael’s face turned red. "I’m not a pyromaniac," he lied, his voice unconvincing even to his own ears. To cover his embarrassment, he flicked his lighter open and passed a finger over the flame. The small fire danced on his skin, leaving a gentle, warm touch without burning him.
Y/n watched, eyes wide with curiosity. "Is that a Hephaestus kid thing too?" they asked.
Asael shook his head, feeling the blush deepen. "No, not really. It's not common either way."
An awkward silence settled between them, the only sound the soft crackling of the flame. Asael closed the lighter, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.
Y/n broke the silence, voice cautious. "I noticed your Medusa tattoo the other day. When you were wiping your face with your shirt... it’s on your back, right?"
Asael turned pale, his fingers clenching into a fist. Y/n knew about the tattoo.
"Yeah," Y/n continued, their voice gentle but concerned. "I read that Medusa tattoos are usually for assault victims and..."
Asael stared at his lighter, his heart pounding. "Yeah," he whispered, barely audible. "I was." He took a shaky breath, struggling to keep his composure. "It was a worker at my mom's factory. I used to hang out there a lot, and he would show me 'stuff' in the back of the factory."
The air between them grew heavy with unspoken words. Asael kept his gaze on the lighter, the small flame that had always been his solace now a painful reminder of his past. Y/n reached out, placing a hand gently on Asael's shoulder, their touch warm and grounding.
"I’m sorry, Asael," Y/n said softly. "You didn’t deserve that." Asael shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that belied the turmoil inside him. "It's not common for men to report assault where I'm from. It doesn't really matter, anyway."
Y/n frowned, curiosity and concern mingling in their expression. "Why not?"
For a moment, Asael was silent, gathering his thoughts. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he answered, "Because I burned that man to death."
The words hung between them, heavy and final. The silence that followed was profound, the kind that seemed to stretch on forever. Asael’s heart pounded in his chest, but Y/n’s calm presence remained a steady anchor.
Finally, Y/n spoke, their voice steady and unwavering. "It was justified."
Asael blinked, looking up at them in surprise. "Huh?"
Y/n met his gaze, eyes soft with understanding. "You’re like Medusa," they explained. "She was cursed for something that wasn't her fault, turned into a monster by those who wronged her. But she wasn’t the real monster. Just like you aren't."
Asael felt his breath catch in his throat, the comparison hitting close to home. "But Medusa was cursed with ugliness," he whispered.
"And you're still handsome after it all," Y/n said with a small smile, their tone earnest. "You’re not a monster, Asael."
Asael’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Th-thank you," he stammered, feeling warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the fire. "For calling me handsome."
Y/n chuckled softly. "Just stating the truth."
They talked some more, the conversation meandering from favorite camp activities to shared interests. Asael found himself relaxing, enjoying Y/n’s company more than he ever thought possible.
Eventually, Y/n leaned closer, a mischievous glint in their eyes. "So, Asael, how about we grab dinner together sometime? Just the two of us?"
Asael’s heart skipped a beat, and he nodded awkwardly. "Y-yeah, sure. I'd like that."
Y/n’s smile widened, their eyes twinkling. "Great. It's a date, then."
Standing up, Y/n started to leave, but then paused, turning back with a playful grin. "See you around, firebug."
As they walked away, Asael groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. "Firebug?" he muttered to himself, feeling a mix of embarrassment and endearment. He looked up, and his breath caught in his throat.
The air around him was lit up with hundreds of tiny droplets of fire, dancing and swirling like fireflies. But his lighter was still closed.
A sense of wonder filled him as he watched the tiny flames flicker and glow, a beautiful, enchanting display that seemed almost magical. Asael’s heart felt lighter, his worries momentarily forgotten in the mesmerizing sight. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly at peace.
Give me romances where one desperately wants to crawl away and the other won't let them. No matter what evil the other does, no matter how bad people think the other one is, they're loved and if needed, forcefully cherished. The person sticking like a fucking leech would rather die than accept they're in love, but would kill anyone for the unloved villain. They save the antagonist so they can choke them out. Give me romances where there isn't kissing or sex, or even the words 'I love you' conveyed between the pair until the very end when it is whispered out like a secret. Give me books where the obviously stronger antagonist is held back by their leech, who holds their sword up to cut the shrubs incase it causes their love harm. Give me books where love is like slow poison, infiltrating the mind and soul. Give me tears, screaming, denial, pain. Give me acceptance albeit after a lot of fighting, the stronger char being forced to accept the other's protection. Give me how the stronger character will go berserk if a scratch befalls their precious inconvenience, the very rage of Achilles taking over.
Give me love so deep it bubbles into celestial loyalty.
Why are people so hateful towards characters which aren't english speaking?
I'm not an english speaker and I still find english incredibly hard to wrap my head around. Most of my chars are Asian, specifically a few nationalities I am familiar/close to/have enough connections with. Suddenly, using those particular nationalities as main characters or face claims is obsessive or even weird. Naming them as would be in their nationalities is 'hard to pronounce'.
"I grant the gift of leadership and dominion over the skies."
"I grant the gift of harmonious unions and enduring partnerships."
"I grant the gift of swift communication and clever wit."
"I grant the gift of valor and unyielding courage in battle."
"I grant the gift of music and healing"
"I grant the gift of the wilderness and the moon's guidance."
"I grant the gift of magnetic attraction and boundless passion."
"I grant the gift of innovative creations and unparalleled artistry."
"I grant the gift of abundant harvests and flourishing growth."
"I grant the gift of insightful knowledge and strategic foresight."
"I grant the gift of ecstatic celebrations and uninhibited revelry."
"I grant the gift of comforting homes and welcoming hearths."
In the majestic hall of Olympus, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. The grandeur of the surroundings, adorned with celestial motifs and shimmering lights, created a backdrop fit for the gods. As the deities assembled, their diverse presence filled the space, each one exuding an aura of power and grace.
At the heart of the gathering, a glowing golden pulse captured everyone's attention. Its radiant light cast a soft, ethereal glow, casting shadows that danced across the marble floors and reflecting off the intricate frescoes that adorned the walls. The gentle hum of conversation ceased as all eyes turned to the pulsating orb, its rhythmic throbbing a testament to the divine energy it contained.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the golden pulse began to split into two halves. They spun ever so slowly, one clockwise and the other anticlockwise almost like they were two ends of the same spectrum. Two halves seperated just so one didn't become too powerful or destructive, forever meant to need to the other to function.
Hades, who had been summoned to Olympus from his own domain simply for the present occasion, spoke up with his words filled in a sense of disdain for the family he had tried to distance himself from simply due to their habits.
"Bestowing such gifts on mortals is cruel! We're gods, we control our own domains. Expecting two young children to bear such a heavy responsibility, having their life already written down before they're allowed to be born- it's downright cruel!"
The other gods looked at each other and then back at Hades, the words of the God of the underworld shaking some of their own guilt. The big three had to put a pause to their own pact for the task in hand, find a surrogate for the burning merges of power which would make the host a living weapon, a sheild, a blade for the gods which would protect the forefront of Olympus.
Fates were cruel, but it was the best thing for the gods to do. The threat of monsters constantly trying to over throw Olympus meant they'd need someone who would be able to fight the threat with the force of all of them.
Someone human.
Poseidon, his trident held loosely by his side, nodded solemnly. "It was a necessary decision," he agreed, his voice steady and resolute. As much as the God wanted to take his words back, he knew him taking his words back would mean the responsibility would be given to Zeus- and both Hades and Poseidon did not trust Zeus with choosing a suitable mortal to mother the host of the power.
The king of the gods turned his head towards Hades, his stormy eyes narrowing in dangerous rage.
"You question our decisions, Hades, yet you offer no solutions," Zeus retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of thunderous anger. "You speak of cruelty, yet you fail to see the greater purpose. We cannot afford to let Olympus fall to the whims of fate and chance. We must act with decisiveness and strength to protect our realm. Tell us at once if you want to back up your words, we do not have time to waste."
With a reluctant sigh, Hades moved towards the center of the gathering where the golden pulses had once been. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before his fingers closed around one of the warm power hotspots. As he lifted it, the pulsating energy slowly transformed, its vibrant glow dissipating to reveal an exquisite fruit. The fruit was a deep shade of e/c, its surface adorned with specks of shimmering gold, casting a mesmerizing pattern against the light.
As Hades backed away, his gaze locked with Poseidon's, who had approached the second pulsating hotspot. With a solemn expression, Poseidon picked up the other glowing orb of energy. Similar to Hades's, the energy gradually settled, giving way to a stunning fruit. This one was a radiant shade of azure blue, its skin smooth and glossy, emanating a sense of calm and tranquility.
As Poseidon turned to leave, his trident glinted in the soft glow of the hall. Zeus, noticing his departure, called out, "Poseidon, where do you think you're going?"
Poseidon paused, his expression sour as he glanced back at Zeus. "Since we're supposed to find a surrogate for the host," he remarked, his tone laced with bitterness, "I already have a woman in mind. If you don't mind, I must go woo her properly."
With a dismissive flick of his hand, Poseidon turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, leaving behind a trail of tension and uncertainty in his wake. The gods could feel the cold emotions radiating off the other god who held the e/c colored fruit on his palm. The cold specks in it seemed to swirl in his sight, a cold fist closing around his heart.
Lowering the hand, he too turned around from the other gods and walked away with the intention of staying in the underworld, by his wife's side so as to spare him the pain of fathering a child who would be raised as a lamb of sacrifice.
The father he'd never asked to be, but now was forced to bear, for the sake of Olympus' survival.
With heavy hearts and troubled minds, the remaining gods and goddesses slowly dispersed, their footsteps echoing solemnly against the marble floors of the grand hall. Each deity carried with them the weight of the decisions made and the uncertainties of the future. The spots which had once held the pulsating energies lay barren, slowly turning darker as fates sealed their cruel iron hand over the heads of the children who'd be unlucky enough to be born under the curse.
The curse of power. The curse of strength.
The curse of being chosen by the gods.
God Killer series:
Part 1- Undeify
Part 2-Delenda
"Gods have been in the sky despite their crimes for way too long,abo...
Luke Castellan who grew up in a house with a mother who had mental problems his child self couldnt understand.
Luke Castellan who named himself the big brother/father figure of both Thalia and Annabeth while they were out on the road.
Luke Castellan who yearned for his father's approval and love but was clearly betrayed when sent off to a quest where he was bound to fail.
Luke Castellan who stayed as the Hermes cabin counselor despite his dislike for the gods.
Luke Castellan who probably goes to the Athena and Apollo cabin a lot to check out books on psychological conditions so he knows how to deal with kids who have them.
Luke Castellan who welcomes new children and makes them feel comfortable.
Luke Castellan who is well respected in camp for his skills and nature.
Luke mother fucking Castellan who was betrayed by his creator, his father, but still wanted to be loved and cared for.
Luke Castellan who was handed the fate of his death even before his birth.
Making female characters who're supposed to be 'queen bees' and/or popular comes with a great amount of misogyny and internalised competition amongst women.
• The Mary sue.
She's perfect, she's everything. While partying everyday and not studying once in the entire book, she's able to be both the magnet and the nerd who knows everything being taught in the class. All men turn to look at her, all women are envious of her beauty.
Most of such characters are described as having certain particular beauty standards. Beauty is different for different people,and attraction isn't warranted by looks. There's a stark difference between being easy on the eye and attractive.
Such characters are also shown to be either incredibly revealing in clothing in places where they shouldn't be, and are described using adjectives that make you more uncomfortable than enamoured. Most of the time they're said to be 'inspired off IT GIRLS', when being an IT girl says nothing about bringing other women down by saying how they surpass everyone around them.
• The Edgy Bombshell.
The og y/n.
Hair up in a messy bun, wearing the first thing she finds in her room she's still the most beautiful girl in school/class/the entire world. Things that are symptoms of depression become aesthetic for her, the just out of bed look being one of 'not like other girls' and not 'im suffering. Help.'
Such characters are often uplifted by adding bimbo, cheerleader chars who wear clothes/are portrayed to be more extroverted, glittery and cheery than the said character. Un necessary bullying from the girly chars and constant threats of 'you're stealing my boyfriend' ruin her day.
The only thing she needs to steal is a time table.
• The Pseudo bully.
She's not mean, she's just the girl who's honest with everyone.
Even though she's the worst person to walk on earth with the way she talks to people,somehow everyone bows to her word. Similar to the first one, she's somehow liked by everyone. Never a pore, never any body type other than hourglass, she brings her friends down by making weird jokes and putting them out as 'savage' when they're not comebacks, just actual insults.
But she's not a bully! Her behavior is entitled, she thinks she has earned the entire world because of the way she is raised or looks, but she is not a bully!
• The gangster
[I love biker women<3]
She's not like the other basic girls. She knows bikes, she knows cars. Everyone comes to her to get their stuff fixed and she has beef with every other woman in school. It isn't her fault she's one of the boys and was raised with 69 boys!
Most of the time such characters lean heavily towards type 2, having either an excess amount of terrible hygiene, humor, or towards 1.
The only time this is acceptable is when she's lesbian. I love biker women<333!!!
The art of writing fictional women has been around for ages, yet it is one people still haven't figured out yet. Much like in real life, the objectification of women and their bodies to appease the readers is prevalent among writers both male and sadly female. One woman can't be both popular and nice, for that's a sin. Kindness doesn't warrant popularity, for women are always fighting amongst each other in their mind.
Popularity is gained because of a lot of things, and most of them aren't positive things. The only time people end up liking you is if you're aware of other people: and don't put other people down to raise others. Women are much more than their bodies, their beauty, their sexuality. They can have off days, they can have many different kinds of personalities and moods depending on the situation.
The art of writing women is almost like the art of loving women, and it's safe to say that we're failing in both.
Oh to have Luke so devoted everything around him is a blur. The line between good and evil? Gone. You're bad,youre the devil incarnate, but he'll be damned if he lets anyone speak ill about you. You've hurt people but you looked good doing it.
You come to him covered in bruises and dried blood. What happened? Doesn't matter, you're here. You're with him. He doesn't need any other explanation. You got a nasty bruise? You'll have the other person's head by your bedside the next day.
Luke who's his villianess girlfriend's swordsman, her ride or die. He's the son of the God of thieves, and he's going to be damned to tartarus if he let's anyone takes his girl away from him.
Oh this is a book btw<33
God Killer series:
Part 1- Undeify
Part 2-Delenda
"Gods have been in the sky despite their crimes for way too long,abo...
What could be Luke's 'type'?
[Note: this is just an analysis based on the media available about him, especially the Demigod Diaries]
1: Luke is shown to be attracted to Thalia's bravery and strong will in the demigod diaries and is shown to be extremely weak to everything she says. In the diaries, he's also shown to be pretty bitter but grateful to have Thalia
Analysis: Luke likes someone who can hold their ground. The boy is probably into women who can throw you on the ground without a second thought (amen).
2: Both Thalia and Annabeth(even though I strongly believe what he felt for her was a desperate need to feel loved one last time, were younger than him.
Analysis: Though not a pedophile, Luke prefers people who're younger than him just because he has a very big brother/protector complex.
3: He is shown to have excessive rage, sure, but he is also shown to melt to compliments that make him feel wanted by Thalia.
Analysis: He's probably into praise and approval by the people he likes.
4: Thalia- his first crush was punk, with black hair and electric blue eyes.
Analysis: Though the black hair and blue eyes may be variable, he's probably into goth/emo/punk aesthetics.
Imagine Luke having such fatal devotion to someone yet excessive wrath as well- Baby you rip me apart yet all I crave is you. Imagine that manifesting as him absolutely pistoning you like a madman while going
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