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zhongrin · 1 year

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Plot bunny?

You are a servant of some god during the Archon War.

He enslaved you and your people, saying that humans are too simple to rule themselves.

***

You scratched the dirty floor, trying to achieve perfection as your god demanded it. It didn't matter that your knees hurt as skin gave up and broke. It didn't matter that your fingernails were almost completely destroyed. It didn't matter that your spine was giving up.

This task was the simplest one your pathetic self could do. That's the only thing you could do. Thing that you were made to do.

At least it was what your "Master" said.

Your village laid in the mountains, growing into a small city over the years, slowly connecting with other small villages. It was peaceful, your biggest enemies being some rowdy slimes and a geovishap from time to time. But that changed when your "Master" marched in the town and claimed all that he saw. He was the one who told you that as humans, you are simple, made to serve. He killed anyone who disagreed, showcasing how weak you are.

Now, you almost believed him.

Yet, as years of breaking your back and thinking of not being worthy of doing anything else but serving your master, one moment in your life caused it to change completely.

You only watched as guards dragged someone, following Master and his toy - Alatus. You wondered who angered your Master this time and yet, as you uncharacteristically looked away from your work on the victim, you couldnt recognise even a bit of human in him. That meant one thing - your Master defeated a new enemy.

His beaten body was a mix of somewhat human and a dragon. He had a long tail with some missing scales and fluffy end was drenched in mud. His clothes that once could be white were mostly covered in blood and dirt. His back was bare of clothing, and you could see whip marks along it, scales on it missing as well. His hair was all over the place, tangled and greasy. And on top of his head you saw two orange horns, that dully glowed.

If it was your old self, you would say that this man was beautiful. But as you learned in the hard way - god's were cruel beings and their beauty was nothing but a mask put over a monster inside.

Your second encounter with him was when you were tasked with cleaning steps leading to the throne. Your Master often ordered servants to clean while he was there, so he could watch over you, as humans were so stupid that they often missed spots.

You dutifully scrubbed the steps and golden decorations while the god that your Master captured was being kicked around by him.

Your Master ordered Alatus to whip him again, and you heard grunts coming out of the strangers mouth. It sounded like he didn't have any strength left to scream.

For some reason you felt... sad? As if you didn't want this stranger to suffer. You were told that god's are heartless and humans are replaceable, so why do you feel sad for him?

You were tasked with giving the new prisoner food while he waited for his execution. It was weird.

He tried to talk to you. Like you weren't lower being. He thanked you for goodness sake. It wasn't something a god would do. Or maybe it was something your god wouldnt do?

You thought about this for a long time. This stranger was the kindest treatment you experienced in years. You couldn't let him die.

So now there you were, running with a torch and stolen keys through long and gloomy corridors, looking for him.

Your heart was racing and your mind was filled with terror. If you were caught, you would suffer. Why were you even doing this again? Humans weren't supposed to have free will, so why?

You saw him, chained to the walls behind thick bars. His wounded flesh angry red, wounds dirty with various spices that your Master ordered to smear in his wounds. He now looked weak, but you knew it was only because of that collar made of cursed metal. It was suppressing his godly powers.

But not for long.

Frantically you searched the keys and opened his cell. He looked at you shocked - he only saw light when he was dragged outside for torture. And you definitely looked too weak to do that. He was silent as you unchained him and freed his neck from that collar. Grabbing his hand, you stormed out, running towards the hidden exit.

As you stopped and opened door to the outside, you looked in his reptilian eyes.

"Free us please"

You didn't know where these words came from.

As he tried to speak, you heard ruckus and screams. Your Master felt his enemy being freed. You didn't listen to the stranger, pushing him outside and slamming the door, only telling him to go.

You then ran to servants quarters and laid down, praying that the chaos will buy him enough time.

You will be dead by tomorrow morning, but perhaps as you dared to hope, maybe some of the others will taste the freedom in their lives.

luke: plot bunny? :)

also luke: *dishes out a whole fic*

me: what-

also luke: and here's a cliffhanger :)

me: *angery kitten screams*

NO BUT FR THIS IS A WHOLE ASS FIC YOU JUST DROPPED IN MY INBOX HELLO????????? imma cry my zhongli my bby he does not deserve all these tortures ;A;

but but but the potential for this to turn yandere..... oooohfladhufsebfurnsuf frothing screaming salivating-

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: luke 💙#mmmmmm i ate well tonight ty luke 🙏🏻

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achenetype · 3 months

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Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.”

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment.

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod.

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out.

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold.

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off.

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says.

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly.

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?”

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil.

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded.

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed.

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.”

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said.

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.”

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this.

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday.

You think you’re going to die.

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it.

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all.

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—”

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets.

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

#— ash's writing #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #reader insert #y/n #pjo imagine #ok now we get into the warning tags #graphic depictions of injury #major character death #major character injury #reader death #alcohol mention #doomed by the narrative #genuinely im so sorry i really ran wild with this one good god #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #— ash’s answering!

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letsplayeternity · 3 months

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We all talk about how Penelope is strong in the 3x01 "Mr Bridgerton" scene because she doesn't fold after his shameless flirting but do you know what is true strenght? This moment right here. Because that boy is TOUCHING HER BARE ARM and TAKING HER HAND and he says "you really are very good, you know?" in the SOFTEST VOICE KNOWN TO MAN. And like... i'm sorry. I'm sorry but WHAT THE FUCK. HOW DID SHE NOT IMMEDIATELY FALL TO HER KNEES? Penelope Featherington is truly the strongest out of everyone because sure, she is desperately pining for him - but at least she keeps it under wraps. I would not have been able. If Colin Bridgerton said something like that to me I would have had no choice but to hit my knees and ask him if he would be kind enough as to compromise me immediately.

#polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #bridgerton #chaos colin has been present since season 1 #excuse me sir #do you not know what you are doing?#the answer is of course he does not have a clue #that boy truly is blind #penelope is stronger than me fr #i'm just so unhinged for him #he makes me feral #season 3 is gonna eat #luke newton #nicola coughlan #not my video #sound on

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galentir · 5 months

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Alternative universe where Luke and Reggie share the best werewolf vampire solidarity 🤝

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #jatp willie #jatp art #jatp fanart #digital art #my art #this AU hasn't left me I love this so much already #telling by Luke's messy hair... werewolf!Luke was predestinied to be a big floof #and Reggie would absolutely LOVE IT #Alex is having none of it #he wouldn't know what answer he expected to hear from Reggie #last art post of this year! the past three months have been a lot so I'm mentally still stuck in october #but today I finally finished a big project and can now post some art I originally started with the halloween picture #can't believe it's the end of december #so instead of happy halloween have a happy new year!

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ma1dita · 4 months

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Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK

the perfect weekend

a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

alternate universe masterpost

words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)

summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise

a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE

(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)

—

This weekend felt like a dream.

Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.

But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)

Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.

But he couldn’t think of how.

He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).

When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).

He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.

Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.

“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”

“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”

Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.

“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”

And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky.

He’s never needed perfect.

He just needs you.

His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.

You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with?

“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”

His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.

“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”

You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.

“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.

“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.

“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”

Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.

“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”

“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”

The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.

“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.

You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.

---

(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #luke castellan imagine #🪽#જ⁀➴ jo answers !

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stealingpotatoes · 6 months

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For the Skywalkers Apart AU, do Luke and Leia make any friends while they’re on Naboo and Tatooine? I kinda like to imagine Biggs and Wedge bonding with the twins over starfighters and such. Also, hear me out. What if Galen isn’t the only candidate for an apprentice that Palpatine has his eyes on?

luke's friends w his cousins definitely, unsure abt others!! and yep leia and biggs are besties

(commission info // kofi support!)

#unlike luke leia doesnt get bullied at school. she probably bullies everyone else tbh #+ accidental biggs day picking today to answer both biggs asks in my inbox #skywalkers apart au #leia organa #biggs darklighter #star wars #my doods #thanks for the ask!

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heavenlyhischier · 20 days

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The guys finding their girl reading a hockey romance book with some spice in it and their reactions pleaseee

with the hughes bros as asked <3 smut implied but theres no details!

Quinn -> Quinn had been at the bookstore as he hunted for one specific book he'd had his eye on for a long time. He was scanning the various tables they had set out, his eyes reading the small signs they had until he briefly faltered over the one titled "Spice up your life". He admittedly got a little flustered, but he couldn't stop himself from looking at the books just to see if you owned any. However, he quickly got embarassed and moved on.

When he had gotten home a little bit later, he saw you tucked in your corner of the couch with a book in hand as you your gaze was unwavering from the pages in front of you. His eyes quickly darted to the cover and he nearly choked on his own spit. He instantly recognized it as one of the books the store had labeled as "spicy", and the way your face was red and your lip was pulled between your teeth told him that you were in the middle of a scene that earned it that title.

"What book is that," He asks, setting his bag on the table as he walks towards you.

"Just some silly romance book," You answered, briefly glancing at him with a small smile.

"Read a little bit to me," He tries, taking a seat right next to you.

Your head snaps towards him, your eyes slightly wide as you close the book and say, "You won't like it. It's not your thing."

He notices the way your chest was rapidly rising and falling, and he knew you felt like you had been caught. To him, you had no reason to be embarassed, but he'd be lying if he said the way you were looking at him didn't make him want to take you then and there.

"You sure it's not," He quirked his eyebrow, carefully taking the book from your hands and placing it on the table, "How about we test it out ourselves? See how much I like it then."

Jack -> With Jack just having surgery on his shoulder, there wasn't a whole lot for him to do the first month outside of his physical therapy. It was a lot of lounging around, watching tv, him being essentially attached to your hip when he could be.

The two of you didn't have anything planned for the day, and the house was empty now with Luke gone. After you had brought Jack home from his appointment, he had gone upstairs to take nap. Initially, you had gone up and laid down with him, but after about twenty minutes of you not falling asleep, you silently slipped out of bed and went downstairs with a book.

You heard the stairs creaking, telling you that Jack had woken up from his nap, but you were too engrossed in your book to look away. The main characters had finally given in to their unyielding desires, and you were not about to stop reading now. You could faintly hear the sound of Jack's tired voice calling your name, and when you didn't answer you felt the slight dip of the cushion next to you.

"Babe," He whined in your ear, planting his hand on the pages of your book and gently pushing it down, "You came down here to read about people getting it on instead of just waking me up?"

You couldn't help but let out a quiet giggle as he pouted, his eyes still drooping from his nap. You turned your hips so you were facing him, taking in the way his hair was a mess on his head and his cheeks were slightly flushed. Careful to not bump his shoulder, you climbed onto his lap and laced your hands behind his neck. His hand instantly found purchase on your hip as you lean down, your lips hovering over his.

"Well, you're awake now," You pointed out, smug smirk on your face before closing the small gap between you.

Luke -> Luke knew you loved to read. In fact, it was often him who was buying whatever new book you had expressed interest in reading. He was never a big reader himself, so he typically always left you to your own when you told him you were going to read. He would ask questions about the books you read, and he never thought much of it when you almost stumbled over your words when you explained it to him.

You were in the shower when Luke noticed the book on your nightstand, a dozen colored tabs sticking from its pages. He hadn't seen you do that to any of your books before, and he couldn't help but grow curious. He carefully picked the book up in his hands, flipping through the pages that you had bookmarked. His eyes were scanning the words on one of the pages that you had stuck a red tab to, and what he saw made his face flush.

He kept reading, his eyes widening more and more the longer he went on. You stepped out of the bathroom, your towel loosely hung around you as your eyes settled on Luke. You let out a started gasp when you saw the book in his hands, rushing towards him to rip it out of his hands as you avoid his gaze.

"Luke! Why were you reading that," You breathe out, moving around him to shove the book under your pillow, "You don't even like books!"

"You had all those little highlighter things sticking out and I got curious," He shrugs, stepping towards you to pull you into his arms, "So, that's what you read about, huh?"

"Stop, this is so embarassing," You groan, letting your head fall onto his chest.

"I was thinking," He reached up to carefully take your chin in his hand and tilt your head so you were looking at him, "We try page 115. It had your little red things all over it."

"But that's the one where they...," Your voice trails off, swallowing thickly as you keep your eyes on him.

"I know," He subtly smirks, "Guess we're finally putting those to use, yeah?"

#anon #⭃ abby answers asks #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader

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