Let’s not forget that the first time we meet her, her only two friends are boys because all the hyper feminine girls in her the wilderness school pick on her for being Cherokee and call her ugly.
Then the moment she joins camp, it’s the hyper feminine girls likes Drew who antagonise her and pick on her.
Can you really blame her for not wanting to be seen the same way by outsiders? Also, let’s consider the year that heroes of Olympus was made in too. She also doesn’t shame anyone like Annabeth, Hazel, Thalia, Reyna etc.
If anything, it comes down to possibly misogynistic stereotypes that Rick Riordan used without seeing the harm NOT the character herself.
Second of all, HER PERSONALITY IS NOT ALL ABOUT JASON! She thinks about ALL of her friends. The only reason she talks about Jason more often is because he’s her boyfriend and she is LITERALLY A DAUGHTER OF APHRODITE?! It makes perfect sense for her to behave this way.
Then there’s the “fat shaming percy” argument that REALLY annoys me. She doesn’t say it out loud and says it ONCE across all the books. She’s not going up and calling him a fat pig or anything horrible like that. When I’m super hungry and scoffing down food (which everyone has done before), my parents jokingly say “You must be hungry!” But it’s obviously just a jokey observation. AND AGAIN! SHE SAYS IT IN HER HEAD?!
Finally, I want to explain that her angst isnt just “dad doesnt pay any attention to me” it’s also that no matter where she goes, people find a way to pick on her and demean her.
The start of the book, she’s being bullied. The moment she joins CHB, a place where she should feel safe and at home, Drew comments on her hair and deliberately continues to antagonise and mock her. Then when she finally settles down after beating Gaia with Jason, she gets picked on again at a normal high school because her father is deeply in debt and she is losing her luxuries.
Annabeth also has VERY similar behaviours but thats a conversation for another time.
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader
synopsis: no matter how hard you try, you could never be the cure for a head full of poison and a heart full of doubt
genre: angst </3
word count: 3.1k words
warnings: canon-divergent!!! slightly mean luke.
a/n: can you guess what song i have been listening on repeat?
you couldn’t believe what you heard from percy.
you couldn’t even remember when the ringing in your ears started—whether it happened right after he told you about luke’s plan or whether it had already been there long before this moment, slowly building every time luke pulled further and further away from you. all you knew was that your chest felt unbearably tight, like your body already understood something your mind was still trying to reject.
the past few days have been strange. luke had grown colder in ways that frightened you because they were subtle enough to excuse if you wanted to. he stopped seeking you out during dinner, stopped lingering around your cabin late at night with that lazy grin on his face, stopped brushing his fingers against yours whenever he passed by you like he couldn’t help himself. every conversation felt clipped and unfinished, like part of him was somewhere else entirely.
you tried convincing yourself it was nothing. but you were also just a girl hopelessly in love, and when the person you love starts pulling away, your mind begins filling the silence with every terrible possibility it can find. you thought maybe there was someone else. someone easier to love. someone less complicated. someone who didn’t know every soft part of him and therefore couldn’t break him just by looking at him.
turns out you were right, there was someone else. it just wasn’t another girl. it was kronos.
“i told you already, you’re not gonna find him in the woods.” percy’s voice came from behind you, quieter than usual as the leaves crunched beneath his shoes. “he left.”
you shook your head immediately, gripping the sleeves of your jacket tighter around yourself. “luke wouldn’t leave without telling me.”
percy’s expression shifted into something painfully close to pity. “he just did.”
another crack formed inside your chest. still, you kept walking. “where did you say he went?”
all you heard was his tired sigh. when you turned around, he was already looking at you like he knew this was going to destroy you and hated that he couldn’t stop it.
“percy, please.”
“i tol you, he’s gone,” he repeated carefully. “he made a portal and disappeared. i don’t know where he went. you’re probably never gonna see him here again.” his voice softened near the end. “i’m really sorry.”
you swallowed against the ache in your throat. “i’ll find him.”
and find him, you did.
it took weeks for chiron to finally approve your plan because every argument against it was reasonable. it was dangerous to leave camp alone, dangerous to search for a traitor, dangerous to believe the boy everyone warned you about was still worth saving.
but none of those things scared you. because to everyone else, luke castellan was becoming a monster.
to you however, he was still the boy who sat beside you during thunderstorms because you hated lightning, the boy who remembered every little thing about you without trying, the boy who once whispered promises against your skin like he truly believed he’d live long enough to keep them. you couldn’t stop loving him just because everybody else had started fearing him.
with a heart full of doubt, you followed the information hermes had given you. he mentioned something about luke gathering rogue demigods at the beach just outside camp grounds, building support for whatever coup he was planning. you wanted to reject the idea entirely because it sounded too cruel, too unlike luke, but doubt had already started rotting inside you long ago.
the walk through the woods felt endless and by the time you reached the shoreline, exhaustion clung to your body. but the moment you spotted him standing near the water, every feeling inside you sharpened painfully all at once.
luke stood a few feet ahead, surrounded by unfamiliar demigods. his arms were crossed over his chest, expression serious as he spoke to them. even from far away, you recognized every little mannerism—the slight furrow between his brows whenever he focused, the way his lips pressed together after saying something important, the impatient tapping of his fingers against his arm.
not realizing that you had stopped walking, one of the boys near him noticed you staring right at them. “captain,” he muttered cautiously, pointing in your direction.
luke turned instantly, hand flying towards his pocket, where you guess, he now keeps his dagger in. the others reacted just as quickly, weapons shifting toward you with sharp distrust. but the moment his eyes landed on your face, everything in him changed.
hand slowly moving away from the blade, it made its way up, “hold,” he ordered quietly. the others obeyed immediately.
it's almost like a reflex, the way your feet moved towards him—almost as if they were finding their way home. when you finally stopped in front of him, your throat tightened so painfully that the only thing you could think to ask was, “how are you?”
one of the men behind him snorted softly. “who’s this?”
“looks like she’s one of us,” another added.
luke stared at you for a long moment before answering flatly, “she’s a friend.”
a friend. the words slid into your chest like something sharp and rusted.
before you could even process the hurt properly, another order came out of his mouth, “you guys get on the ship, i’ll come after.” they all did what he said and dispersed as soon as they could, almost as if disobeying would cost them their life.
another voice spoke, a girl this time. she stood near the ship behind them, eyes narrowed as she looked between the two of you. “captain,” she corrected herself after nearly saying his name. “don’t let the melody of the birds cloud your mind.”
something flickered across luke’s face after hearing that. whether it was guilt, hesitation or fear, you couldn’t tell anymore. he waited until everyone boarded before finally facing you fully, “how did you find me?”
“the gods are all-knowing.”
he laughed bitterly under his breath. “of course. the gods.” he repeated your words mockingly before dragging his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “you shouldn’t have come.”
“i needed to.” your voice cracked despite your efforts to steady it. “you need me to save you from this.”
“save me?” the moment he looked directly into your eyes, his expression faltered almost imperceptibly. you saw it happen. the brief crack in his facade, and maybe, that was what gave you the courage to keep going. “you know there’s no saving me.”
slightly shaking your head, trying to find composure and not break in front of him right then and there, “no, i don’t. and you don’t know that either. please just give me a chance to—”
“chance to what? you can’t change my mind.” he firmly says, “this,” pointing right to his temple, “my mind, it’s full of poison. and it’s because of the all knowing gods you seem to believe so much in!” using your words against you.
gods, you tried so hard. but standing in front of him felt like watching someone drown while they insisted on pulling themselves deeper. “luke, please,” you whispered. “we can fight them another way. we can make things better without this.”
reaching for his hands instinctively, you were desperate for something familiar. hoping that the warmth of your palm could melt the coldness that now covers his heart, hoping for proof that the boy you loved was still somewhere inside him. for one terrible second, his fingers twitched against yours like he almost held on back.
then he shoved your hands away, “fight them with what?” he snapped. “hope? a little rebellion? love?” his voice grew sharper and more emotional with every word. “disobey the gods and they crush you. look at what happened to thalia.”
there it was. the wound that never stopped bleeding. of course she’s a huge part of why luke was doing this. to avenge thalia, avenge himself, avenge little annabeth, avenge every abandoned demigod who spent their entire lives begging to matter to the people who created them.
you could see it now, written all over his face. this wasn’t ambition nor was it greed. it was grief left untreated for way too long. “if you came here hoping to change my mind,” he said more quietly now, exhaustion sinking into his features, “you should just leave.”
he looked tired, not physically, something worse. he looked like someone who had already buried himself a long time ago and was simply waiting for the rest of the world to notice.
left with nothing, all you could say was, “i love you, luke.”
his entire body stiffened. you watched his throat bob slightly. watched his eyes close for half a second longer than normal, like your words physically hurt him.
“it doesn’t matter how your love feels anymore.” the words tasted rotten in his mouth the moment they left it.
every part of him wanted to take them back the second he saw the way your expression faltered, but he forced himself to continue because cruelty was the only thing he had left that might still push you away from him. kindness would only make you stay. and gods, if you stayed any longer, he knew he would break.
“love by itself will never be the cure,” he said quietly, each word sounding strained, like he had to drag them painfully out of himself.
it was low, and he knew it. he knew it especially because of you, and the way you always spoke about your mother with so much warmth—you were the kind of person who still believed love could soften even the cruelest parts of the world. you believed love healed people. you believed it saved them.
and maybe once upon a time, luke had wanted to believe that too. but now he was standing in front of you trying to destroy that belief with his bare hands, because if you kept loving him like this, you would follow him straight into ruin.
still, despite the ache splitting through your chest, you forced yourself to stand your ground. because beneath every cruel thing leaving his mouth, you could still hear the desperation in it. luke wasn’t trying to hurt you because he hated you. he was hurting you because he thought it was the only way he could make you leave him behind.
“please, luke,” you begged, your voice breaking under the weight of everything you had been carrying since the moment he disappeared. “just come back. i miss you. everyone does.”
his lips twitched at that, the movement so small you almost missed it. for one dangerous second, you thought he might finally crack and say it back. i miss you too. you could see it in the way his expression softened against his will.
but then allison’s voice echoed sharply in the back of his mind. don’t let the melody of the birds cloud your mind. his jaw tightened immediately after. whatever softness had surfaced disappeared beneath something harsher and colder.
“you think i believe that?” he asked bitterly, though his voice betrayed him halfway through, emotion splintering through the anger. “everyone thinks i’m a fool and a traitor.”
“they don’t know you like i do,” you said quickly, stepping closer before he could retreat into himself again. “they don’t know what you’ve been through, or why you’re angry, or how much you’ve sacrificed for people your entire life. they only see what happened, but i still see you.”
your voice softened near the end, almost trembling now. “and maybe everyone else stopped trying to understand you, but i didn’t.”
there you see the exhaustion underneath all the rage he kept wearing like armor. he looked away from you sharply, his chest rose unevenly before he laughed once under his breath, humorless and tired.
“that’s the problem,” he murmured. “you still look at me like there’s something left worth saving.” his eyes met yours again then, and whatever restraint he had left finally started unraveling. “do you think i don’t wake up every day wishing you were enough to make me stay?”
“luke…”
“i loved you before all of this,” he admitted quietly, tears gathering in his eyes despite how hard he fought them back. “that’s exactly why you need to go.”
that shattered you the most, because right then and there, luke had unraveled himself and told you the truth. he loved you, he does, and he was still choosing this. but he loved you, and that’s honestly everything you needed to hear.
knowing no amount of words could really flip his world around anymore, you pulled the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. at first, his lips pushed against you, his hands to grab your waist with heartbreaking desperation, enough for him to kiss you back like he remembered every soft thing he was about to lose forever. the kiss tasted like grief. like longing stretched too thin. like two people trying to hold onto each other while the world split open beneath them.
for one horrible moment, you felt him lean into you fully. your luke. the boy who laughed too loudly, who stole extra strawberries for you during dinner, who held your hand beneath the table like it was instinct rather than choice.
then he aggressively tore himself away from you, “stop!” his voice came out strained, almost angry at how weak he sounded.
the force he used pushing you back sent you stumbling onto the sand. immediately, guilt flashed across his face and he instinctively moved toward you before stopping himself halfway, hands trembling at his sides.
“look at me,” he whispered harshly. “look at what i am.”
tears finally spilled down your cheeks.
“i got hate and toxins flowing in my bloodstream,” he continued, kneeling in front of you despite himself. “you can spend the rest of your life trying to suck it out of me, but it will never be enough.” his voice cracked violently now. “this is who i am.”
you shook your head desperately, trying to change his mind. but luke only smiled sadly, and somehow that hurt worse than if he had yelled.
“you keep loving me like i’m still someone worth saving,” he murmured. “and maybe that’s the cruelest thing you could do to yourself.” his fingers twitched again, before reaching for you and cupping your face. “i’m the luckiest bastard alive because i got to be loved by you,” he whispered. “but your love is smaller than the war i have to win.”
for a moment, you saw him again, not the captain or the traitor, especially not kronos’ chosen boy. you see luke, the boy you loved. and somehow that made losing him hurt even more. because he was still there, buried beneath all the anger and grief and poison, but still there.
your lips parted slightly, another plea already forming at the tip of your tongue, but luke suddenly looked away from you, jaw tightening so hard it almost looked painful. it was as if looking at you for too long physically weakened him, like every second spent near you chipped away at the resolve he had spent months building.
behind him, the waves crashed violently against the shore, but they still weren’t loud enough to drown the sound of his uneven breathing.
“captain?” one of the men from the ship called cautiously.
luke closed his eyes briefly, when he opened them again, something inside him had hardened.
he stood up and says, “take her back to camp.”
your breath caught, the words didn’t even sound real at first.
one of the demigods hesitated. “what?”
“i said take her back.” his voice came out sharper this time, like he needed to make himself cruel enough to survive this. “make sure she gets there safely.”
“luke…” he flinched at the sound of your shaking voice. it was small, almost unnoticeable, but you saw it—you had spent too many years loving him not to notice every little crack in him.
two people slowly approached you, hesitant like they almost felt guilty for what they were about to do. you stepped back immediately, eyes never leaving luke. “no. no! luke!” he still wouldn’t look at you.
anger and desperation finally started clawing their way up your throat. “don’t do this.” you cried. “don’t stand there and act like this is goodbye.” his hands curled tightly into fists at his sides.
“please,” you whispered now, tears slipping freely down your face. “please don’t send me away.” for one horrible second, you thought he might break.
his head turned slightly toward you, and the expression on his face nearly destroyed you. because beneath all the coldness, all the bitterness, there was grief—raw, unbearable grief. the kind that comes from ripping your own heart out with your bare hands because you believe it’s the only way to survive.
his lips parted slightly, like he almost said your name, almost told them to stop. like he almost chose you. but then his gaze flickered toward the ship behind him, toward the people waiting for his orders, toward the war he had already thrown himself into so completely that he no longer knew how to crawl back out of it.
and just like that, the softness vanished again.
“take her home,” he repeated quietly.
the demigods finally grabbed your arms despite your resistance. immediately, panic surged through you.
“luke!” you fought against their grip, twisting desperately as they started dragging you backward across the sand. “luke, please!”
he stood completely still, and that hurt more than anything.
you would have rather he yelled at you.. would have rather he looked angry or cruel or hateful. but instead he just stood there looking devastated, like he was watching something precious being taken from him while knowing he was the one who ordered it.
“i hate you!” you cried out, though even you could hear the heartbreak bleeding through the lie. “i hate you for making me leave!”
that finally made him react. his expression crumpled for only a second before he looked away sharply, throat stiffening hard enough that you knew he was trying not to fall apart in front of everyone.
the last thing you saw before the trees swallowed him from your view was luke taking a shaky step backward, one hand covering his mouth as though holding himself together had suddenly become physically painful.
and even then, even after everything, he still couldn’t bring himself to watch you go.
your best friend who gets jealous whenever someone else is talking to you but also loves it when you come over to his cabin and fall asleep with him
- sleepy
after the busy day at camp, you and percy had yesterday, it resulted in both of you falling asleep talking in his bed.
you wake up to the sound of brief knocking on the coral covered cabin door, percy stirs a little in his sleep his arm that was already wrapped around you tightens subconsciously at the interruption.
you open your eyes slowly after hearing what sounded like an irritated grover on the other side of the wall. “percy, we have to go see what he wants”
percy sighs “okay fine only if we can go back to sleep after?” he gets up off the bed. and begins to make his way over to the door, annoyed grover ruined his sleep and also the time alone with you.
he opens the door quicker than he thought resulting it making a loud bang against the wall behind it, causing some campers to look over. percy rolls his eyes “grover i want to sleep what's up?”
“oh my gods finally, i thought you died or something what took you so long” grover exclaims as he looks around percy spotting you staring sweetly at the satyr from your spot in percy’s bed.
“oh, i see” he furrows his eyebrows “sorry angel i didn't realise you were here!” grover blushes awkwardly.
percy grabs the door closing it slightly so grover can't see you anymore. “yeah, she is. so uh what did you want again?”
“i was just coming to let you know that there's going to be a game of capture the flag tomorrow so make sure you don't sleep too late and if you need any tools the hephaestus cabin is open, chiron told me to tell every cabin but that's all so i'll go now bye!” grover rushes away to the next cabin.
“thank the gods i didn't think he would stop talking, anyways lets go back to sleep now we can deal with the capture the flag stuff later” percy falls onto his bed and opens his arms which you gladly shuffle towards.
“yeah i like the quietness in here” you mumble against percy’s chest.
“guess that means you should spend more time with me then” percy shrugs smiling into your hair.
which you would definitely be taking him upon his offer.
a/n: i had the urge to write something and i actually love this they are so cute
❤︎ Pairings: Luke Castellan X femaleCabin10!reader
❤︎ A/N: Little short blurb while I procrastinate studying for my finals…
❤︎ Synopsis: Kidnapped from Camp Half-Blood, a daughter of Aphrodite wakes up in a luxurious suite on The Princess Andromeda, surrounded by silk sheets, roses, and reminders of her past. Luke claims he’s protecting her, but the comfort feels more like a cage.
❤︎ Warnings: Slight sexual content, manipulation, kidnapping, mentions of violence, power imbalance, illusions to stockholm syndrome.
You wake slowly. Not because you’re rested but because something feels…wrong. The air is too warm. Too sweet smelling, too…perfumed?
Roses.
Your lashes flutter open, and for a disorienting second, everything is gold and pink and sunlight. The ceiling above you is painted in delicate swirls of ivory and gilt. Gauzy curtains drift in a soft breeze, framing tall windows that spill light across polished floors. The bed beneath you is vast with silk sheets tangled around your legs, the fabric whispering against your skin when you shift.
It’s beautiful. It’s wrong.
You push yourself upright, heart steady in your chest, you were softer than most demigods, others used to say. Too gentle for war.
The room looks like something from a dream you once described to him by the lake.
A vanity stands near the window. Your favorite perfumes line its surface. The crystal-backed brush you lost years ago rests neatly beside them. On the chaise lounge, folded carefully, is a dress in a soft pink color.
Your seashell necklace lies on the nightstand. You stare at it. You lost that over a year ago, you think to yourself. Your throat tightens and the ship sways beneath you. Not violently. Steady. Controlled.
The Ocean. The Princess Andromeda, realization dawns on you.
“You always did like waking up somewhere beautiful.” His voice cuts cleanly through the silence.
You don’t gasp. You don’t flinch.
You turn your head slowly. Luke leans against the doorframe like he belongs there. Like this is normal. Sleeves rolled to his forearms. Dark shirt open slightly at the collar. The faint scar beneath his eye catching the light.
He doesn’t look surprised that you’re calm. He expected it.
“You decorated,” you say softly. His gaze drags over you, like he’s assessing you in a way.
“For you.”
There’s no shame in his voice. No apology.
You slide your legs over the side of the bed. The silk slips down your thighs, cool and smooth. His eyes flicker before returning to your face.
“You drugged me,” you say.
“I brought you somewhere safe,” he argues with a shrug.
Your bare feet meet the plush rug. You stand slowly, smoothing the sheet away from your body. “From my home?”
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “From a battlefield.”
You walk past him without rushing, examining the room like you’re assessing a gift. Your fingers trail over the vanity, the brush, the carefully placed flowers.
“You remembered everything,” you murmur.
“I remember what matters.”
He pushes off the doorway and follows you, his shoes quiet against the floor. You pause at the window, looking out at endless blue water. Monsters patrol the distant deck, shadows moving beyond the glass.
“This is a cage,” you say gently.
“It’s a suite,” he corrects you.
“It’s a cage with silk sheets,” you reply quickly.
He steps closer. “You could leave the room, you’re not trapped in here. You’re a guest, not a prisoner.
“And where would I go?” You ask with a soft huff.
His silence answers. You turn to face him. The distance between you shrinks.
“You planned this,” you realize.
“Yes.”
No hesitation. “I knew you’d need comfort,” he continues, voice lowering. “You’ve always liked beautiful things. Soft things. You never should’ve been dragged into something as ugly as this.”
Your gaze searches his. “You think I’m fragile.” Your voice is soft, almost defeated as you consider his words.
His hand lifts…it’s slow and deliberate as he brushes a loose strand of hair from your shoulder. His fingers linger there.
“I think you’re wasted on them.”
Them. Camp. The gods. You don’t step away when his hand slides from your shoulder down the length of your arm. It isn’t rough.
It’s possessive.
“You don’t belong there,” he murmurs. “You belong somewhere protected.”
“You don’t get to decide where I belong,” you snip at him. But there’s no real heat behind the words. Stubbornness, maybe.
His hand settles at your waist. The warmth of his palm seeps through the thin fabric of your nightgown.
“I’m not deciding,” he says quietly. “I’m offering.”
You tilt your head slightly, studying him. Even now, even here, there’s softness in your eyes. “You’re manipulating me,” you mumble.
A faint smile curves his mouth.
“You always did see through me.”
His thumb presses gently into your hip, pulling you closer until your body brushes his. You feel it immediately…the tension is coiling between you like the invisible string that has been tugging the two of you closer inch by inch for a long time now.
“You don’t have to fight me,” he says, voice dropping lower. “You never did.”
“You lied to me,” you point out with a slight frown.
“I protected you,” he states.
“You poisoned Thalia’s tree,” you add.
“For a future.”
“For Kronos,” you say.
“For survival,” he argues. The two of you sound like children the way that you argue back and forth.
His other hand rises, cupping your jaw. His thumb strokes along your cheek slowly. The touch is familiar. “You loved me once,” he murmurs.
“I did.”
Past tense, you want to say. But you don’t. Something flashes in his eyes.
“And you think that just… disappears?”
Your breath brushes his lips now. His thumb drifts down, tracing the line of your lower lip.
“You still feel it,” he says softly.
He leans in. The first brush of his mouth against yours is slow. Testing.
You don’t stop him.
The kiss deepens gradually…not rushed, not frantic, but it’s weighted and Intentional. His hand tightens at your waist, your fingers curl into his shirt. For a second, it feels like before.
Before betrayal. Before war. Before Kronos.
His lips move against yours with growing hunger and months of distance collapsing into heat. He tilts his head, pulling you closer, your body flush against his. The ship sways gently around you.
You melt, just enough to remind him you could. Then you pull back. His lips chase yours before he catches himself. Your foreheads press together, breaths uneven.
“You can’t kiss me into choosing you,” you whisper.
“I don’t need to.”
“You’re trying to make this feel like love.”
“It is love,” he urges you. His hand slides from your waist up your spine, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades.
“Choose me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Choose the world that survives,” he adds. Your palm rests over his heart again. You feel how fast it’s beating.
“You’re afraid,” you say softly.
His jaw tightens. “I’m realistic.”
“You’re afraid of losing.”
His grip tightens, just slightly. “I won’t lose you.”There it is. Not the world.
You.
You step back slowly, breaking the contact. The air feels colder without him.
“I’m not some prize in your war,” you say gently. His composure hardens and it’s smooth and dangerous again.
“You’re the only thing in this war I refuse to sacrifice.” The words land heavy. He steps away first this time, giving you space…or at least giving you the illusion of it.
“You’re free to walk the ship,” he says calmly. “No one will touch you.” A pause. “They know you’re…under my protection.”
The unspoken word lingers.
Mine.
You hold his gaze, steady despite the warmth from his lips still lingering on yours. “You can fill a room with everything I love,” you say quietly. “But that doesn’t make it home.”
Something flickers in his expression, something almost human. He nods in agreement, then shrugs. “We have time,” he says. He stands there for a beat too long, like he’s waiting.
Like he expects you to call him back.
The ship sways gently beneath your feet. The silk sheets behind you are still warm from where you’d been sitting. The scent of roses feels thicker now, almost suffocating.
You could let him leave.
You should let him leave. But instead…
“Luke.” His name slips out softer than you intend.
He pauses in the doorway but doesn’t turn right away. “Yes?”
The singular word is controlled. Too controlled.
You step closer, bare feet silent against the carpeted floor. The distance between you shrinks again, not because he moves this time. But because you do.
“You don’t get to act like you’re patient,” you say quietly. “You dragged me onto your ship.”
Slowly, he turns. His eyes drop to your mouth before lifting back to your gaze. “I told you,” he replies evenly. “You’re not locked in.” He points out with a sigh.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” he agrees. “It isn’t.”
The honesty hangs between you. You stop just in front of him. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough that you remember exactly how it felt to be wrapped up in it.
“You think I’ll come to you,” you whisper.
His jaw tightens. “I know you.”
“You knew me,” you correct him.
His hand rises again, slower this time. He doesn’t touch you immediately. He lets his knuckles hover near your waist first, giving you space to step back.
You don’t.
His fingers slide along your side. Barely there, then settle at your hip. “You don’t belong in this war,” he repeats his earlier words quietly.
“And you don’t get to decide that for me.”
His other hand comes up, brushing lightly along your collarbone, tracing the thin strap of silk there. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “You’re not made for blood and destruction.”
“And you are?”
His gaze sharpens. “I can survive it,” he insists.
“And you think I can’t?”
He steps closer, backing you up without force until your calves brush the edge of the bed. “I think,” he says lowly, “that you feel everything.”His thumb presses just beneath your ribs…right over your heart. “And that’s what’s going to get you killed.” His voice lowers, his brows furrowing.
Your pulse betrays you under his touch. His hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you forward so your body aligns with his.
“You still fit here,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
Your fingers press against his chest, not pushing him away. Just feeling.
“You don’t get to pretend this is just about protection.”
“It isn’t,” he speaks.
The admission is quiet. His hand moves higher along your spine, fingers spreading, anchoring you closer. His lips hover just beside yours again. But he waits
“You think if you remind me how this feels,” you whisper, “I’ll forget what you did.”
“I think,” he says softly, “that you already have.”
Your breath catches. He closes the distance first this time. The kiss is slower than before. Not desperate. Not rushed.
Intentional.
His mouth moves against yours with steady pressure, like he’s testing how much you’ll allow. His hand tightens at your back, guiding you down onto the edge of the bed without breaking contact.
The silk shifts beneath you. He stands between your knees now. Your hands slide up his arms. Muscle and warmth and memory. He kisses you deeper, tilting your chin slightly. His thumb brushes along the side of your neck, feeling the flutter of your pulse.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs against your lips.
“So are you.”
A faint, breathless huff of something like a laugh escapes him. His mouth trails down from your lips to your jaw, slower now, grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. His hand slips from your back to your waist, fingers curling lightly into the silk at your side.
“You could stay,” he whispers against your skin. “Right here. With me.”
Your breath stutters when his lips move lower along your neck, warm and deliberate.
“You’re still asking me to choose,” you say softly.
“Yes.”
There’s no manipulation in that moment. Just truth. His hands slide over your hips, steadying you, thumbs brushing slow arcs over warm skin beneath the fabric. The ship sways again. You press your palms flat against his chest. He stills instantly.His forehead rests against yours, breath uneven now.
“You think I’ll break,” you whisper.
“I think,” he replies quietly, “that you need to rest.” He clears his throat, pulling away from you reluctantly.
The loss of touch is immediate, and cold. You’re still sitting on the edge of the bed. Still warm. Still breathless. Still wanting. The scent of roses hangs thick in the air. He pauses at the doorway. For a fraction of a second, it looks like he might say something else.
He doesn’t.
The door closes softly behind him. Now you’re left alone with silk sheets and the unsettling realization that the most dangerous thing about Luke Castellan…
is that he almost makes you believe he’s protecting you.
Piper deserved a character arc where she realized being girly isn’t inherently bad. Like, I know a lot of people who went through a ‘not like other girls’ era and came out the other end learning how to balance girly and being themselves.
I also just fully hate how Rick choose to depict the entire Aphrodite cabin.
leo valdez has a strong love-hate relationship with your cabin. emphasis on love. and hate. mostly because it seems like every time he shows up he leaves with glitter in his hair, new rumors about the two of you and his heartbeat doing something extremely inconvenient whenever you smile at him.
tonight though, it was your fault. you caught him after dinner, wrench in hand, shirt streaked with oil and said “you, me, my bunk. don’t make it weird” and skipped off.
it’s not weird. totally not weird. it’s only weird because now he was on your way too fluffy pink comforter now, with his back against your knees as you run your hands through his wild curls.
“hold still” you murmur, combing out a knot near the back of his head. “when was the last time you brushed through this?”
“uhh.. never?” he offered. “you know this is deeply un-hephaestus behavior. we care about fire and tools.. not haircaire.”
“mmhm?” you tug a little harder than necessary, he yelps, you smile. “keep complaining and see what happens valdez”
from across the cabin, one of your siblings snicker. there’s whispers, there always are whenever you two are together. the resident forge boy and the aphrodite kid who can get him to do anything with one look. the way he follows you around like a lovesick puppy.
“so” you say, twisting a small section of hair between your fingers. “how’s that flame brain of yours tonight?”
“still flaming” he mutters “ hey does this mean i’m like officially pretty now?”
you lean down until your lips graze his ear. “leo, you’ve always been pretty. just been a little bit of a mess about it”
you swear you feel his shoulders tense, a little clearing of his throat. the tips of his ears turn bright red, the same shade as the sunset painting your curtains. you hum, pleased, and begin braiding. gentle, fingers weaving through his thick curls, pausing every so often to brush your nails through his scalp. each time, he shivers like you have him under some spell. who knows? maybe you do.
“can’t believe you roped me into this.” he grumbles, pretending to be annoyed but can’t help the way his voice naturally softens. “if my cabin finds out i’m toast.”
“oh please, they already know.” you tie off one section with a tiny pink elastic. “charles saw you leaving with me. i give it about five minutes before they start asking when the wedding is.”
he groans “worst cabin ever.”
“hey!” you pinch his shoulder “you love my cabin.”
he huffs “ i tolerate your cabin. i love y-“
he stops himself. you go still, stopping near his hairline. close enough to feel the heat radiate off of him.
“what was that?” you grin, trying not to full on laugh. “you love what, valdez?”
he clears his throat. “nothing, just keep going.”
“hmm.” you tug playfully at his braid, then let it go. “always knew you had a soft spot for me.”
he makes a strangled sound. “wha- no, i? yo-”
you laugh, leaning forward until your chin rests on the top of his head. “relax. it suits you.”
there’s a pause, then you feel him reach back. his grease-smudged hand closes around your ankle, he’s warm, solid, gentle. when he tilts his head to glance up at you, his eyes are impossibly soft. that silly, half-broken boy grin is nowhere to be found. instead, there’s just leo, looking at you like you’re the sun and he’s never seen it before.
“you suit me,” he says quietly.
your breathe catches, about to say something, something brave. but then one of your siblings across the rooms shriek interrupts any former plans of that happening. “DREW!!” drew painfully sighs, slapping 5 drachmas in her hand. “i so told you guys, i gave it a week.” she says, pointing to everyone in the cabin.
silena chimes in, “how long do you give it till they kiss? has to be like 3 days, right?” talking about the two of you as if you’re not just two bunks away
leo groans, slaps a hand over his face, and buries it in your blanket. you just giggle and ruffle his freshly braided hair.
“c’mon, valdez,” you whisper, lips brushing his temple. “maybe they’re right.”
he peeks up at you through his fingers. “yeah?”
you grin. “yeah.”
layout inspired by xoxochb!🤍
(a/n : i got so much love on my leo headcannons so i made this & it’s getting so much love as well aaahhh!! thank you guys so much🫶. happy early birthday leo! this is also a universe where silena & charles lived happily ever after together and got married and had cute little half blood babies)
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the new episode when clarisse is like “lose the charmspeak aphrodite boy” just gave me the best idea and greatest motivation for a fic. Like how did you know he was using it so fast? ya thats what i thought
