[Luke Castellan x Hades!Reader]
summary: A daughter of Hades and a son of Hermes, not the most likely couple. But Silena’s placing her bets, and what is Aphrodite if not a listening mother?
note: Yes, this is was originally just a bot from my C.AI account. But like I said, I’m turning the ones I actually like into fics, so have fun and happy reading. (pasted from AO3) -> Also, side note: I forgot that summer’s already over. Just think Silena and Travis stayed over for the year… uhhhhhhhhhhh… nyeahhh….
Luke Castellan is eternity. You believe that, at least. He is always everywhere. Whenever you zone out, eyes staring at a faraway distance you swear you can’t pinpoint, he’s the one you’re somehow staring at. He is an ever present entity, forever and eternal.
You remember the first time you saw him, hand outstretched, gauze in hand ready to patch you up as soon as you stepped into the bounds of Half Blood Hill. He was the first to greet you, and that impression stuck to you like a magnet.
You’re not sure when that familiarity morphed into fondness.
But you hate it. You loathe the feeling of butterflies — pests, rather — fluttering in your stomach or how your heart races. But you swear that you don’t like him. No, of course not! As a daughter of Hades, you’re used to pushing people away. So that’s what you do.
It began on Monday, the game you play as soon as you wake up, like a game show or flipping a coin: to notice or ignore Luke Castellan, that is the question. Most days you manage to do the latter, but some days, the really shitty ones where you just can’t catch a break, those are the ones you hate.
Those days are your thirteenth reason.
Watching Luke in the arena, nimble fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword, his form impeccable and exuding the grace of a trained assassin (which, in a way, was sad to think of. To be born only to be raised a soldier), his tan skin glistening with sweat — like nectar… oh you could lick it off him (woah). Silena’s always there too, like an afterthought you can’t shake off, her voice a record playing over and over in your head.
“You’re staring,” she drawls, a teasing smile on her face. You hate her (you don’t).
“I am not,” you counter pointedly, fixing a glare on your face as soon as she steps into view.
But she was right, you were staring. Because Luke was right there, the sleeves of his bright orange camp shirt barely hiding his thriving biceps, his hair tousled in the morning sun, his face… gods.
You can almost hear his voice in your ear, remembering how he sounded earlier calling his siblings for line up. “Eleven, fall in!” Luke’s deep voice had bellowed — and Hades was it attractive.
Luke’s aura of responsibility and leadership is the perfect kind, arrogance with the right skills to back him up. But then, you guess you could just call it confidence.
You shake your head out of your thoughts. Stupid, foolish, dumb. You can’t keep playing that scene in your head, you’re already heating up with the sound of his voice resonating in your brain.
That’s when you notice him.
“He’s coming over!” you hiss at Silena.
With a few of his friends — fellow veteran campers staying year round — he stops short of you and Silena’s bubble, his grin wide on his lips. “There’s gonna be a party later, you should come.”
You should have anticipated it. Summer’s just finished, Chiron and Mr. D are less strict, and most of the demigods at camp are seniors. You really should have expected it. As Chiron has frequently reminded, ‘cabin counsellors should keep things in order’.
So when throwing a party, who else did you expect would take on the role of chaperone if not the counsellors? You only wish you weren’t one, but alas, a lone Hades child (forgetting about your siblings residing at Camp Jupiter).
Again, Silena was there to persuade you — or perhaps she used charm speak — to go to the party. You wouldn’t put that above her, in fact she seemed to always get you to agree. Maybe she really did use it on you often.
Nevertheless, you find yourself sitting by the bonfire, nursing a cup of punch you believe to be spiked with wine from Mr. D’s collection — probably snagged by Luke’s cabin mates.
Silena had dolled you up, insisting she do your hair using a curly hair routine she had learned a few months ago. She’d put together an outfit that you normally wouldn’t wear, but she was very persuasive.
In the end she did do a great job.
“Luke is totally going to fall head over heels in love with you,” Silena had whispered earlier.
Your stomach had churned and you gave her a half hearted grin before letting it fall once she looked away.
It was no use. You hated parties — even though this one was significantly less crowded than the usual Cabin Twelve parties, you’d give it that — the fact remains, you would rather be in bed.
The voice of the dreaded eternal figure in your life comes twisting through the cool wind and settles in your ear.
Luke sits beside you, his broader shoulders bumping against yours casually as he gives a polite nod towards Silena before turning to you. “I’m surprised. I was worried you wouldn’t.”
Silena looks mildly constipated before leaving you and Luke alone… together. You glance at him, but at the sight of his blue eyes meeting yours, you suddenly feel your heartbeat at your throat.
You avert your gaze, instead looking out into the open sky where no electric line constrains your sight. Darker, dotted with stars like silver freckles, and vast.
“No, yeah… Lena, she, uh, she persuaded me.”
Luke scratches the back of his neck, a tad awkward as he eyes your face (that’s still turned towards the sky) before admitting quietly, “I’m glad she did.”
“I was telling you that he likes you!” Silena rasps desperately, akin to a dehydrated lizard as she shakes your shoulders.
“Telling? You looked like you needed to shit, Beauregard. You didn’t tell me anything,” you huff back.
She sighs defeatedly, waving a white flag handkerchief in surrender. “He was glad to see you—he was ecstatic, actually. Did you see the way he smiled?” she gushes.
You look at her unconvinced and very skeptically reply, “he looked like he just wanted to leave. In fact, he was trailing off a lot the whole night. I think he’s just being, er, nice.”
Now it’s Silena’s turn to look at you disapprovingly, shaking her head in utter disbelief. “The world’s gone mad.”
“You’ve gone mad,” you quip.
“You’re impossible, by the way,” she just counters, throwing her hands up in the air and standing. “One day, you’ll look back and wish you weren’t so dense.”
You scoff indignantly, perturbed. “I am not dense!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”
You notice him (more than you did before) everywhere now. He’s there when you’re on your way to the amphitheater, while you’re canoeing, as you trip over a rock, and even on the way to the infirmary.
“Doesn’t he have anything better to do?” you rant to Silena, who seems mildly exasperated and annoyed as she paints your nails.
You’d been at it for a few minutes now, perhaps even half an hour, at that point, Silena had no hopes of ever hearing the end of your supposed stalker, Luke Castellan.
You gesture vaguely to the door where, across the fields of grass, is the Hermes cabin, leading to your best friend slapping your wrist.
Silena makes a noise that’s half-screech half-huff from somewhere in her throat. “You’re—“
“Impossible?” you finish for her. “Yeah, you’ve said that, like, a million times, just today.”
“Okay, but at least you know I’m honest.”
“More like insane,” you correct, watching her close the nail polish bottle.
“Insanely correct,” she twists easily, finally allowing you to move your hands again, which you do happily.
Admiring your newly painted nails glittering in the afternoon light, you chide, “nope. Just insane.”
You raise your head from where you’d been staring and poking at a snail inching away from you, to match the very deep and attractive — wait, no — audibly pleasing voice to a face.
Not so surprisingly, it is the man of the hour (week).
“No. Go ahead.” You manage a nod, then immediately go back to the snail.
“Capture the Flag’s close again… you, uh… have you already chosen which cabin you’ll side with?”
Luke’s question is awkward, his usual confident bravado dulled by his messy blond hair falling over his eyes and the weird way he scratches at his nape.
“No. No one’s asked me for an alliance yet. I figured they’d save that for counsellor meetings.”
Luke nods, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles at you. “Right… but I like being punctual. Wanna team up?”
You quirk a curious brow at him. “Is this really you? Did Silena use Charm-speak on you?” you tease, the words dripping off your tongue awfully easy for someone who claims to be indifferent towards the Hermes counsellor.
Luke chuckles an infuriatingly god-blessed sound that worms its way into your stomach and blooms like butterflies. “She didn’t have to. I want you on my team.”
You bite your lip and look down.
Trying to will away the tingling sensation now taking over your chest, branching upwards (neck, ears, and cheeks reddening), you force a reply, sounding more like a strangled wheeze than the word ‘yes’.
“Awesome! I’ll see you on Monday for strategies. Can’t be too early, eh?” Luke nudges your shoulder in his distinct bubbly way, sending fire crawling along your skin from the touch.
“Awesome. Awesome?!” Luke groans, burying his face in his hands as Chris snorts at his brother’s expense.
“Real smooth, Luke. Take a look everyone! Luke’s only forte is sword-fighting, ‘cause there you don’t have to worry about trying to talk to girls.”
Luke glares weakly at his brother. “Oh, fuck off, you.”
“No, no. It’s actually amazing to see you like this,” Chris reassures with a teasing lilt on his lying lips.
The older boy just shakes his head, lying down on his bed as if the whole world’s on his shoulders. “I’ll never recover,” he mumbles into his pillow, eyes closed, voice muffled.
Chris laughs before letting his hand rest on his brother’s shoulder. “You’ll survive.”
Luke had taken longer in front of the bathroom mirror on Sunday night. He stared — really looked at himself — and took in the jagged line down his cheek from the top of his brow. He hated it, he wanted it gone. But nothing had worked on it when he was seventeen, so why would they when he was nineteen?
He’d shaved, twice. Not wanting a single thing out of place for the next day. He even prepared an outfit which he never really did, picking his crimson red belt that he thought you’d like.
The boy was utterly in love.
Luke didn’t want another incident happening like the last time he’d invited you to a party. It was disastrous, he was stumbling over his words and he was sure you looked bored out of your mind.
No, no. This was going to be better. He would make sure of it.
The next morning, he woke up earlier than usual, which meant he woke up at 2 AM, eyes those bright sky colored pools.
Luke used mouthwash (3 times, total overkill), and again, took extra time styling his hair. Though he had the bright idea of listening to Travis, big mistake.
“You, uh, you tryin’ something new?” You stare at his hair, styled up with… gel.
Luke immediately regrets it, smoothing it down to no avail, the substance already having dried.
You chuckle, unable to stop yourself as pink blossoms on his skin. “Here, c’mon. Let me help.”
You lead him to the Big House’s bathroom, door closed as you wash his hair over the sink, gentle hands carding through the softening strands.
“It’s alright. We don’t have to pretend this happened.”
You offer him your hanky which he gladly takes and dries his neck and hair.
“I’m never listening to you again, Trav,” Luke grouses, mortified. “I’m never showing my face outside again.”
“You’re acting like a teenage girl,” Chris chimes from the side, looking up from polishing his sword. “I’m sure she didn’t think anything of it.”
“Hey. Nice hair. Doesn’t look like you drop landed from Olympus to camp,” you tease.
Luke feels heat spread along his chest and ears. He coughs, clearing his throat. Now, anyone would have expected Luke to have something witty to shoot back, or play along. Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so embarrassed and flustered.
So he says something smart like: “Uh-huh.”
“Right. Nice talk,” you chaff.
“I think I might like him,” you admit to Silena, who gives you a blank look.
Deadpanning, she offers dryly, “really? No one noticed. Really, none of us di—“
“Okay, smartass,” you snap, elbowing her. “I’m being serious here!”
She dodges easily, cackling. “In my defense, you’ve been talking about him nonstop for the past month. I really don’t know how you’re just realizing this now.”
You slump against your bed, staring at the underside of the top bunk, eyes tracing the things you’ve written there over the years. And right on the middle, a distinctive L pattern of vines and cute designs you never noticed.
Maybe your body knew all along. Or maybe fate had weird ways of pushing you on the right path.
“Have I really been talking about him for a month?”
It’s winter. You’ve never experienced life outside camp — save for the childhood you never speak of — and you wonder, quietly, one night, what it would be like to see the world blanketed in soft, fuzzy paleness.
Your eyes track the lake, still.
Having come to terms with your feelings, you don’t really know what to do. Luke’s this guy you’ve known since you came to camp. But what happens when he becomes more than just a landmark in camp? What happens when he’s the guy you think of every morning and throughout the day?
You shiver slightly on the docks, turning to leave only to bump into the firm chest of said boy, smelling of pine and wood.
“Woah. Easy there, strawberry shortcake.”
You take a step back as you feel the weight of his warm palms on your shoulders, stable and… oddly feeling of home. Something you never thought you’d find.
Luke shakes his head, his hair bouncing slightly, the snowflakes painting him with soft specs of white. “‘S okay.”
His gentleness warms you even as your nose cools in the shade of roses. Before you can reply, his coat’s resting over you, draped on your shoulders and swallowing your frame.
“You should get inside. Curfew’s in a few minutes,” he whispers.
You nod, uttering the quietest thanks he’s ever heard and walking on the damp ground towards your cabin.
“Where’s your coat?” Chris asks from his bed, rubbing his hands together to stave off the cold.
Luke lifts his head from taking his shoes off, dusting the snow off him. “Somewhere.”
Chris shares a glance with Travis but neither of them say anything, which is new for both of the boys.
Luke’s head is full and loud. Nothing’s worked — not even wielding his sword and carving names on his window sill — so he grabs his boots, donning his hoodie and grabbing his coat.
Sneaking out is easy. Of course it is, even if he hates his heritage, he’s got the blood of a quick footed, thieving, bastard god.
What he doesn’t expect to find is you, messy haired and absolutely adorable as you try to exit your cabin through the window. He’d usually ignore stuff like this, that or scolding them like the hypocritical boy he is. But this time is different.
Luke stands under the window, hands finding your ankle as you barely bite back a shriek. “Just me, no need to scream.”
His voice is low, lower than he usually lets himself use. Always trying to keep his image of a friendly guy intact. Tonight, he lets that image wash away like winter tides dragging in the warm water.
He helps you down, his gloves brushing against your waist as he carries most of your weight when you jump down.
“You sneaking out now too, silly girl?” Luke rumbles, his breath lookin like fog in the winter air.
“I wanted to see the outside world. For once.”
Luke smiles, faint, small. Then he nods his head to the side. “C’mon then, let me escort the mighty princess.”
The walk is long, but it doesn’t feel like it when he’s with you. Luke’s eyes frequenting your serene face, the pale moonlight dancing down the slope of your cheek and the curve of your neck.
When you go off the road instead of continuing upwards toward civilization, he follows in suit. Not that he’d leave you alone.
When he notices the way your skin’s already prickling with goosebumps, he puts his coat on you again, like that night by the lake. His fingers quick as they slip his gloves on your smaller hands.
“Silly girl, always leaving your things.”
You aren’t sure if Luke is doing it on purpose, but his random nicknames have your stomach butterflies acting up again. Even more-so with his warm coat on your shoulders and his big gloves on your hands.
“Don’t be stupid. I can handle not having gloves. You on the other hand?” Luke smiles that smile you’ve fallen for. “You’ll freeze to death and meet your father before I get to escort you to wherever you want to go.”
You pull his coat tighter around you as you keep walking ahead of him, trying to hide the blush that’s risen on your cheeks. “Thanks.”
On your walk towards a clearing, you trip, embarrassingly to your dismay. Luke, however, just grabs your hand, steadying you like a pillar. Firm, in a way you’ve never noticed before.
He doesn’t let go until you get there.
The sky’s dusted with silvery light and shimmering stars. It’s quiet there, the grass blanketed by snow like moss, though neither of you pay mind to it, merely lying down.
Luke stares at you from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to him, he smiles, a hand reaching to brush hair from your face behind your ear.
His hand’s trembling lightly and you catch it before he can fully pull away, blowing air on it.
He chuckles deeply, amused nervousness spilling from his chapped lips. “I’m not shaking because of the cold.”
Luke gazes, lovestruck, when you stare up at him through those long lashes of yours, thick and dark.
He leans closer, imperceptible, but he notices you do too. Like a cute bunny seeking his warmth, and he happily, gladly embraces it. He opens his arms and you slot yourself between them, against his body, your head resting on his bicep.
Your muffled words make him chuckle and he buries his face into your neck, his hot breath contradicting his cold nose as it presses on your skin.
“What?” he blurts, lips parted.
“Never mind, it’s stupid—“ you begin to backtrack.
Luke shakes his head firmly, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “Wait, no. I’m sorry. I want to. May I?”
You nod too enthusiastically, ears pink. Luke feels his heart beating too loudly in his chest, adrenaline pumping in his veins, and just as he leans in, you nod again, slower.
He gladly takes the permission, pressing a tender kiss against your warm lips, not pushing for anything further than what you’re ready for, than what you give.
And when you exhale against him he relaxes further into you, his free hand slipping to the back of your neck.
“I love you,” he whispers as you pull away.
The sudden confession makes you snort in surprise. “What?”
Luke’s eyes are still closed, as if trying to keep the feel of your lips on his longer, grasping at it.
When you laugh, you witness the exact moment he realizes what he just said. He groans, burying back against your neck. “Sorry. Too much?”
“Mhm, maybe. It’s just our first date. You’re already confessing your undying love for me,” you say.
“We’re on a date?” he jokes. Luke smiles against your skin making your pulse go erratic. “I’ll go as slow as you want me.”
You hum approvingly, kissing his hairline.
“Alright, pretty girl. We’ll stay a little longer.”
extra note: need him injected in my veins atp. this took so long to write and still, the first luke fic i was originally writing is still rotting in my drafts ˶ˊᜊˋ˶. alsooo, i hope this is good °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ°
