IMAGINE THIS! Luke ascends to godhood and becomes the God of Rebellion/Rebellious Spirit
I love this! But I’m also thinking about how funny it would be if the other gods tried to start ignoring their kids again, and Luke would just look at them like; "do you want me to use my powers to start another demigod rebellion? 🤨"
But seriously, I think that he would also be a protector of demigods. It just feels right.
(ok so this KINDA turned into a small fic but it’s whatever)
Streets of london (vampire!gnf x fem reader)
(tw: slight blood,fear play, dead body (kinda but we’ll pretend he’s taking a nap)
i walk down the cold dark streets of london clutching my purse, i turn down an alleyway hoping to get home quicker. The moon shines bright above me and i look up to admire it as i walk but suddenly my attention was drawn away by a loud crashing noise, i look farther up the alleyway and spot a man that looks to only be in his 20s leaning over what looked like a slumped over body, i pray that the body is just sleeping but i know it mustn't be the case. I turn on my heel and start to quickly walk away hoping that the man didn't see me, fear corses through my veins when i hear footsteps behind me; fast footsteps. I take off running without bothering to even turn back but my escape is cut short by a can that i trip over, i fall to the wet pavement yelping as pain shoots through my ankle; i must have twisted or broken it, i reach down and grab hold of it wincing in pain "oh you poor thing" a thick british accent rings through the air causing chills to run up my spine as i look up quickly meeting the eyes of the same man i saw farther down the alley, he was quite pale with black hair and what looked like.. blood? dripping down the corner of his mouth? All at once i realized the man who's standing in front of me is not human, the man that's standing in front of me is a vampire.
I can only stare in shock as he smirks trailing his eyes down to where i was clutching my ankle with one hand "hmm" he hums "you hurt yourself running from me silly girl" he continues trailing his eyes back up to my face "please" i finally choke out causing him to raise an eyebrow cocking his head to the side slightly aswell almost in a taunting manner "please what?" he asks crouching down next to me getting uncomfortably close to my neck, he smelt like expensive cologne and it was making my head spin as i tried to answer his question "please don't.. kill me" i say sounding extremely pathetic as the words spill from my mouth "don't kill you huh?" he chuckles lightly sliding one of his arms along my back pulling me closer to him "oh darling i was never going to kill you" he mumbles softly leaning into my neck ghosting his breath over it "we're just going to have a little fun. It’s such a shame you didn’t bleed from that fall, it would have made this so much easier for you.” he purrs grazing his fangs along my neck, i tremble in his arms and he only chuckles “a-at least tell me your name.. please” i beg. He pauses for a second and then hums quietly “the name you’ll want to be screaming is george sweetheart”
some men are pressed because of this pic and why it’s their “moms” and not “dads”.
here is a thing, if anything the mother comes first in MENA region and muslim communities, that’s how most grew up on. It is not to disrespect the dad or anything, it’s just to show appreciation to the one who gave the most, and in this case the mother.
It’s honestly beautiful, them being proud of their moms in a big historical event like this, by giving back their hard work and success to their mothers.