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he will likely return some time this week for other halloween festivities but. as i said. tis the season

#the mechanisms #jonny #in the flesh #not described #growinf my hair outjust to look like my fucking tumblr icon

why couldn’t you be ready too? luke castellan ೃ࿔*:

luke castellan x fem!reader

why couldn't you be ready, too? / i was ready, ready to be happy / ready for that long look that never ends / and, now, i don't know what to do

song: jonny (reprise) – faye webster

You never asked Luke to be perfect.

You knew what he carried—more than most. You saw the fury behind his jokes, the fracture behind his charm, the weight of a boy who’d been passed around like an afterthought, too clever to be pitied and too angry to be saved. You never looked away from that.

You looked through it.

You saw the boy who knew every shortcut through the forest and used them to smuggle fresh strawberries for the younger campers. The boy who trained until his hands bled, then wrapped them in silence. The boy who lit up when you laughed, but never quite believed he deserved to be the reason.

You loved him the way still water holds the sky—quietly, entirely, without needing to be seen.

And you waited. Gods, you waited. Through the half-explanations and long silences, the way he kissed you like a promise but never followed it with words. You filled the gaps with hope, wove his absences into something noble. Told yourself his distance was protection, not fear.

You were ready. To be chosen. To be seen. To share something real in a world that so rarely gave you anything solid to hold.

But Luke—Luke was always looking past you.

At Olympus. At betrayal. At the future he thought had been stolen from him before he ever got the chance to live it.

You kept hoping he’d stop. That just once, he’d stop running and look at you—really look at you. That he’d see someone not trying to fix him or change him or worship him, just someone who loved him anyway.

But he never did.

Not in the way you needed him to.

There’s a kind of grief no one prepares you for: the grief of loving someone who wasn’t ready to be loved. Who couldn’t hold what you offered without twisting it into another burden. Who saw your devotion and only felt the weight of another thing he might one day lose.

You remember the last time you saw him before everything changed.

He stood under the trees with his hands in his pockets, eyes on the horizon, like the sky had an answer he hadn’t found yet. You asked him—softly, stupidly—if he was coming back. And he looked at you like he wanted to lie. Like he almost did.

But instead, he just smiled that tired, crooked smile and said, “Don’t wait for me.”

You wanted to say I already have.

You wanted to scream, I was ready. Ready to be happy. Ready for you.

But you didn’t.

Because even then, you knew it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t leaving you. Not really. He was leaving everything. You were just collateral.

Now, it’s quiet. He’s gone. The war’s over—or close enough. And you’re left with the strange ache of an almost-life. A love that hovered at the edge of becoming but never arrived.

You think about that white wall sometimes. The one in that quote neither of you can quite place. “A white wall may seem empty, but it’s ready to be filled. And, in its readiness, needs nothing. It stands complete.”

Maybe that’s you now.

Still. Waiting. Complete, not because you got what you wanted, but because you learned to want what you already have.

Yourself.

It doesn’t make the silence hurt less. But it makes it yours.

And somewhere, out there, Luke is still chasing something.

You just hope, one day, he stops long enough to wonder why he couldn’t be ready, too.

#[🩷] lana writes #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #x reader #riordianverse #charlie bushnell #faye webster #jonny