filialdisciple

[filialdisciple]

#can't wait for hermes to discover he has a son he doesn't remember

Lol this au is fun!lol seriously Luke gonna have hard time~especially with his dad and voice in his mind lol

Link to post here!

Poor Luke is juggling trauma and guilt, a Titan trying to seize control of his body, his growingly obsessive not-Dad, and the paranoia of several gods and the people of Ancient Greece after what happens at the Oracle of Delphi.

Needless to say, Luke is having a Terrible™ time.

[filialdisciple]

there should be an episode of mob psycho where an orchestra somewhere is panicking because their conductor has been killed by an evil spirit and reigan shows up thinking he and mob would exorcise the spirit but mob doesnt show up for his own reasons so reigan calls him while standing in front of the orchestra. Mob doesn’t answer so reigan goes on to leave him a very long voicemail explaining the situation but while hes doing so, all his hand movements make the orchestra think hes the replacement conductor. And so they start playing to his hand movements which results in a shockingly stunning and unique performance from this orchestra. People talk about it forever. It goes down in history as a moment that changed music forever etc etc

[filialdisciple]

I remember reading a fanfic once, can’t remember what it was called, but it had May having her own garden with a Hermes statue in it.

I like to imagine small baby Luke, hiding from his mom in the garden, curled into his statue dad’s side. Crying. Praying for him to come save him.

[filialdisciple]

I had an idea for an Apollo/Luke oneshot or short fic where, after the Battle of Manhattan and, you know, killing himself and all that jazz, Luke inherits some of Kronos’ essence—kind of like how in A Crown of Feathers (my god Luke fic) he ascends because of it. So in this AU, he’s basically a demi-titan and a demigod all in one package. I was thinking that when he stabs himself and Kronos gets poofed out of existence, the surge of time-related power—plus Kronos desperately trying to hold on—rips something open and flings Luke into Ancient Greece (still undecided on which time period). Luke would probably be dazed at first, but then fall back on his street kid instincts. Maybe Kronos feels the disturbance in the force. Apollo definitely would, so he starts looking. Which turns into this cat-and-mouse situation where neither of them knows what they’re chasing/running away from yet.

In short: this au makes Luke a Kronide too, lol. Maybe that should be its name… Or Twice-Fathered, as a nod to Dionysus’ whole twice-born thing, which kind of fits here too.

[filialdisciple]

Since this seems to be what people do around here, here’s a snippet of rock the cradle, my son:

Luke breathed in deep—shaky—eyes tracing his son’s features.

Lykē was small, blinking his blue eyes—blue as Phoebe’s, as Luke’s, as Hermes’—as if getting used to being alive, staring up at him with the confused openness newborns often had.

But—

Luke traced them again, hands flexing lightly, more desperate now to see more of himself.

But he didn’t find it.

Black curly hair. Bronze skin. The shape of his cheekbones.

All of it.

He looked at his son, and Hermes’ face stared back at him.

[filialdisciple]

Hermes is the god of herds and flocks so I think it would be cute if Luke had the ability to converse with herd animals lol.

Like I can see him sitting in a field surrounded by fluffy sheep or something, who snuggle near him and butt their heads against his hands, demanding to be petted. And they're just baa-ing at him and he nods his head as he listens, going "uh huh" and "really??" and "oh wow"

[filialdisciple]

#in hindsight maybe i couldve made this an ancient greece hermes and time traveller!luke thing

.....?!!?!!??WoW so cool pls feed us more luke go back in time?Hermes too??

Luke made a mistake. He should have known better than to accept the strange kindness and welcome the villagers had given him when he stumbled into their settlement. He should have known better than to trust them without invoking xenia¹ instead of excusing their manic behavior as his own paranoia acting up.

He isn't sure what he would have done if they hadn't let him stay in one of their guest rooms—travelling back in time put a huge strain on your body and mental state, go figure. Luke thinks he might have slept out in the wild, which wasn't a great option either.

At least here, he had been fed enough food to last the Titan Army a month and a bucket of questionably clean river water to rinse himself off. Even if they only did it to raise him up as a human sacrifice to "honor and please the gods".

Luke let them dress and drag him up the hill to the temple at the top of a nearby hill. Inside the small space, Luke saw a makeshift altar with an unflattering statue of Hermes sat behind a flat stone slab with dried bloodstains coloring the gray stone a dirty brown.

Luke waits for the priest to reach towards the ceremonial knife and loosen their hold on him. He takes him by surprise—pretending to be docile was such a pain—when he pulls out a knife he picked up and hid under his robes and rapidly jabs the blunt end into his head, cleanly knocking him out.

Luke walks over to the other food offerings that the villagers had left around the altar before Luke came in. He eyes the fruits in front of him. Would the god care if he took one out?

Before Luke could decide, a presence made itself known around him. The hair on his arms stood on end as a light, threatening touch lands on the back of his neck.

The voice, airliy sings out. "Why, hello, little thief."

Luke instinctively glares at the man before him. His face was shadowed by his petasos and only the early glow of a white eye showed through the unnatural darkness.

"Oh?"

Luke doesn't like the intrigued tone. There was a light whoosh of air and Luke finds himself nose-to-nose with a younger version of his father. His youthful face stood in dichotomy with the empty, coldness in his eyes.

Luke doesn't dare breathe. The hand on his neck tightens and Luke knew without a doubt that the man in front of him could snap his spine in a heartbeat.

"You're my—"

"Step away from my son."

The young Hermes' eyes sharpened, an unnatural smile curling across his face as he moves back to look over Luke's shoulder. "Your son?"

Sensing the god's distraction, Luke stole a glance back and was instantly filled with fury, bitterness, and relief all at once.

Hermes—his biological father, not the monster-like man in front of him—stood at the entrance of the temple. "Luke, come here. Now."

Luke doesn't think he's ever heard Hermes sound this tense. He shifts his body a bit, but the other Hermes strengthens his grip to a painful degree that Luke fails to bite back the pained sound from escaping his lips. Shit, this was definitely going to bruise.

The older Hermes lets out a controlled breath. Luke can see the way his cheek twitches in restrained anger. "Luke, close your eyes."

Luke isn't stupid enough to disobey this one order. Not when he could feel the charged atmosphere of two gods challenging each other.

Fuck, Luke thinks to himself, not daring to draw the attention and ire of either version of Hermes. All he needed was a single moment to slip away and run away.

He never realized how...less...the gods have become in the modern times until he felt the full force of divine energy engulfing the temple. Even with his eyes closed and his arms covering his face, it felt as if the sheer raw power was trying to melt through his skin and bones.

A hand grabs Luke's arm and his stomach lurches as his body becomes weightless. The wind sharply whips past his skin in that familiar way when he used to fly with Maia, his winged shoes.

"You can open your eyes now, Luke."

Luke is greeted by an unfamiliar sky. Stars scattered across the expanse of blues and purples in glowing clusters. Luke thinks he could trace constellations and find planets easily with this much clarity in the sky.

Luke swallows, his throat dry. "Why are you here?"

It was only supposed to be him. Bleeding from his self-inflicted stab wound and lying against the cold floor of Olympus, Luke had made peace with himself. He was going to die. He finally made his choice.

But then Kronos pulled the last of his energy to bring upon Luke "one last curse" for betraying his master before fading away.

Instead of greeting the Underworld, Luke found himself centuries into the past where gods weaved themselves among mortals and treated humans like games and passing entertainment.

"Hermes." Luke clenches his jaw. "How are you here too?"

Hermes doesn't look at him. "I bargained with the Fates."

With dawning realization and dread, Luke watches as the goldy glow fades away from Hermes' skin. Hermes makes eye contact with Luke, emotions indiscernible.

"My divinity in exchange for your life."

»—————————–✄

¹Xenia: 'guest-friendship'; ancient concept of hospitality [towards travelers, foreigners, and people outside your household].

[filialdisciple]

lowkey i want your luke and @bvckbiter's luke to make out 😳

nothing beats the sheer joy that engulfs my entire being like placing luke in Situations™

it makes you wonder who has suffered more: canon luke (daddy issues, possessed by a titan, dead) or my tumblr ask luke (force femmed, impregnated, no child support) 🤨

[filialdisciple]

Dark protective Hermes will forever be my favorite and I love the way you draw him and Luke!

Like, it’s so interesting because, Hermes is a god, most importantly a trickster. It wouldn’t be hard for him to just take Luke away and keep him from danger.

Even if it does require him to…break, a few bones in the process so Luke doesn’t leave

YES ❗❗❗❗ And thank you hehe dark!Hermes is also one of my favorites 🥰🥰 I adore the idea of Hermes taking advantage of his domains (boundaries, travel, etc.) to manipulate the world around Luke.

And since you mentioned trickery, I couldn't help but imagine Hermes hearing sixteen—almost seventeen, oh, his boy was growing so fast—Luke's fervent prayers pleading with his father to give him a quest, please, dad, let me prove myself—

The sweet plea dances across the empty space inside of him, where a mortal's heart sits and a black hole in a god's lies.

Humor the boy, a voice from long ago within him whispers. The past years have been oh, so droll as time marched on as it did, interspersed only with fleeting romance and occasional sex. Nothing has stirred his interest and attention like his little Luke.

His Luke, adorable Luke, who ran away from May's home, unconsciously manipulating Hermes' domains to his benefit as easy as breathing. The way he took care of Hermes' other sons and those under the protection of his cabin only made Hermes want to spend his days watching him all the more.

Every good boy deserves a treat.

Hermes gives Luke a quest to fetch a Golden Apple at the Garden of Hesperides. Luke's offering of thanks to him was delicious despite the sour aftertaste of mild disappointment.

Hermes hums to himself. Should he give them a bit of a challenge?

The power beneath Hermes' fingertips sang. He isn't sure if it was because he issued this quest himself, but he could feel the chains that bound him to the limitations of godly interference in the mortal realm loosen. As the god known for his wit and cunning, Hermes slips away from the loosened chains with ease.

The freedom makes him wonder just how far he could go before Fate pulls him back. His eyes trace Luke's movements, the way he slid past a monster before stabbing it in the back before a charming smile of triumph stretches across his face. Just how much can he slip from the eyes of Fate?

Hermes follows them in amusement. From the smooth, easy path that they started with, Hermes began nudging them in different directions. He turned short roads into winding paths, open spaces into dead ends. Hermes chuckles to himself when Luke's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and annoyance.

An ancient, buried piece of him claws at him as he watches the way Luke's own questmates begin to question his judgement and sense of direction—a direct insult masked as concern. He watches as Luke bristles and barely holds himself back from snapping at them.

They were all obviously tired and high-strung after the several detours Hermes forced them to take. It made the quest more exciting.

Less exciting, however, was the wound that Ladon etched into his son's face.

Hermes hears Luke's heavy breathing and gasps of pain before he sees him.

He walks casually past the corpses of Luke's questmates; his poor boy uselessly dragged them away from the Garden of Hesperides. If he hadn't he wouldn't gotten as injured as he did.

A glint of gold makes him look down. Hermes ignores it, kicking away the shiny apple that had rolled against his shoe.

"Who's there?" Luke calls out, his hands pressed against his face in an effort to stem the gush of blood pouring from his fresh wound.

Hermes chuckles. "And what do you think you can do in that state? Silly boy, you can't even see."

A stuttered breath. "...Hermes?"

Hermes clicks his tongue.

"...dad."

Hermes smiles. "Good boy," He places his palm against Luke's cheek, ignoring his son's flinch. Poor Luke, he can't even open his eyes. "Now, what do we say we take you away from here?"

He observes the way Luke pauses, the way his head twitches towards the direction of his dead questmates. Hm, could this be a minor ability from Hermes?

"You'll take us back to Camp Half-blood?"

Hermes doesn't have to think about it.

"No. You and I aren't going back to Camp Half-blood."

[filialdisciple]

once again thank you to all the lovely people and anons who sent in the luke prompts 🥰🥰

i ended up combining a few of them since they closely matched each other and to make them fit the six boxes, so hope that's all cool!!

au credits: » @bugwolfsstuff for the priest au!luke » @tealvneu's Athenide/Godling!Luke » last box is a redraw of @bvckbiter's fanarts of Luke

»———no text version under cut——–✄

[filialdisciple]

Crack AU where after the Battle of Manhattan Luke is thrown backwards into time — except he isn't thrown into Ancient Greece, but rather into the Golden Age of Greek mythology, where Kronos still ruled.

He appears right in the middle of this cave where a woman lies on a bed, clearly having just given birth. He has no earthly idea who this woman is, but she stuffs a baby into his arms and tells him to run with a goat called Amalthea (the name sounds familiar but he has no time to dwell on why that is).

Of course he's like "no wtf", but then he senses a familiar presence approaching them quickly — clocking that presence as Kronos, Luke has no idea why the titan is still alive but thankfully has the sense of mind to get the hell out of dodge.

It isn't until later that he looks down at the baby in his arms. The baby's hair is soft and downy, a light wispy blond. He has bright blue eyes — blue like the shell of a robin’s egg, blue like lightning thundering across a clear sky.

A blue that he realises, with horrified dread, is all too familiar.

“Zeus seems to like you,” the dark haired nymph — Adrastreia, she'd introduced herself as — who'd accompanied Luke and the goat in their escape from that cave, says, smiling.

Luke just stares.

"Who?" He forces out, voice shrill.

Anyway, his first instinct is to chuck baby Zeus off the nearest cliff, but then he realises that if he does that, Kronos would almost certainly never fall to the Olympians, which is Not Good™. And Amalthea and Adrastreia, no matter how friendly they seem, are still suspicious of him, so he's stuck being a godly nanny for now.

Joy.

Then Zeus grows up. And then he frees his siblings. So now Luke not only has to deal with babysitting one baby god, but six. Who for some reason clamour for his attention and call him mother.

...Maybe he should have just thrown himself off a cliff when he had the chance.

[filialdisciple]

Some random Luke & Hermes (Hermes ends up kidnapping Luke) I wrote a while back:

One by one, they were shoved aside. The movements felt like slow motion, dragging out the inevitable. Luke was so out of it, so overwhelmed, that everything seemed distant, unreal.

Then—a body, in shadow, crouching.

His breath caught, his stomach twisting.

Despair.

Glowing blue eyes locked onto him. His father’s face was set in a stern, unreadable expression, utterly unbothered by the golden gashes bleeding across his skin. His lips were pressed together, tight and firm, as he stared at Luke. His curls were disheveled, loosened around his face, making him look wild.

Especially with how crazed his eyes still were.

“Dad.” Luke’s voice was small. He pressed himself against the wall, curling his shoulders inward as if he could disappear. Useless—he already knew that.

He had already been found.

His father didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink. His glowing eyes remained fixed on him, wide and unrelenting. When he moved, Luke tensed, but all Hermes did was reach out and grab him by the arm, dragging him forward like he weighed nothing at all.

“Dad! No!” Luke struggled, twisting against the hold, but it was useless. His heart pounded, erratic and uneven, his ears buzzing with panic.

Still, his father said nothing. Just stared at him with those crazed, unblinking eyes, and that—that—scared Luke more than his unhinged speech earlier.

The silence was terrifying.

Then Hermes moved again, gripping Luke with ease before slinging him over his shoulder. Luke barely managed a choked sound of protest before the world blurred.

He knew his father was fast, but it had always been an abstract thought—a vague understanding, like knowing the earth wasn’t flat. A fact without weight.

But now… now, he could see it. Feel it. The terrifying speed, the way the world blurred, how easily his father could have caught him earlier if he had wanted to.

He was playing with me, Luke realized suddenly, fingers gripping the back of his father’s shirt like a lifeline. He clenched his eyes shut as nausea coiled in his gut, the sheer velocity turning everything around him into a dizzying smear of motion.

He wouldn’t fall. His father’s grip on the backs of his legs was steady, unyielding. And Luke—Luke wondered why Hermes was even running in the first place when he could have simply snapped his fingers and transported them.

Or, distantly, as a numbness settled over him, if this was just how his brain was choosing to process it.

It didn’t matter.

He clung to the thought as his father continued running, as the burning in his throat worsened, bile threatening to rise.

It didn’t matter.

Then—suddenly—his father stopped.

The abruptness sent his stomach twisting in protest, his insides lurching at the violent shift from breakneck speed to stillness. But Hermes didn’t let go. Didn’t loosen his grip.

And this time, Luke didn’t dare to protest.

Hermes walked, his strides unhurried, his grip unwavering.

Luke cracked his eyes open gradually, forcing himself to focus, and—

Towering columns. White marble, pristine, gleaming.

Greek columns.

His breath stilled. His gaze darted wildly, scanning for anything, for an escape, for reassurance, for anything—but all he saw was Olympian splendor. Grand structures, pathways so meticulously crafted they felt unreal, vibrant flowers and statues placed with painterly precision.

A masterpiece.

A nightmare.

Olympus.

This was Olympus.

And his father kept walking.

Hermes walked and walked, never slowing, never stopping, even as he passed beneath the towering arches of one of the grandest Greek buildings Luke had seen yet—enormous, imposing, more magnificent than the rest.

Not even as nymphs bowed in his presence, their eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to look up—not even at the sight of a mortal demigod slung over Hermes’ shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He only stopped when he reached a room.

Then, and only then, did he set Luke down.

It was almost careful, almost gentle—his hands firm around Luke’s waist as he placed him onto the ground like a doll, weightless in his grip. Luke stumbled slightly but caught himself, looking up cautiously.

Hermes was still serious, but the tension in his body had eased, just slightly.

Luke didn’t know if that was a good sign. Maybe it meant he’d be more reasonable now?

“…Where is this?”

Hermes looked down at him, silent, as if debating whether to answer. Then, finally, he spoke—his voice toneless.

“My palace. In Olympus. In Greece.”

Greece?

Luke’s eyes widened, his stomach plummeting as the words curled in his ears, their meaning sinking in like a stone.

“Dad—”

“You’ll be safe here,” Hermes interrupted. But Luke could tell—it wasn’t meant for him. It was something Hermes was telling himself. “You won’t be taken.”

Luke barely breathed before the words slipped out, unbidden.

“You did.”

Hermes turned his head slightly, one glowing eye settling on him. Luke swallowed, but it was too late to take it back.

“You took me.”

A quiet huff.

As if Luke was being stupid.

“No, son.” Hermes’ voice was patient, patronizing, as though explaining something simple. “I’m protecting you. Taking is a very different thing.”

And then his expression twisted, something sharp, something animalistic flashing across his face.

“That—” Hermes snarled, his tone suddenly venomous “—Romaoi planned to do it.”

In an instant, he was in Luke’s space, hands gripping his shoulders, leaning down until all Luke could see was the intensity of those wide, glowing eyes.

“He would ruin you.”

Luke opened his mouth—he tried, he really did—but no sound came out. His voice was gone.

Crazed blue eyes in the dark.

All he could feel was the frantic thud of his own heartbeat, the cold creeping into his limbs, sinking deep.

“Or…” His father’s voice was quiet, almost contemplative. He tilted his head, studying him, his expression twisting—as if the thought alone enraged him.

Luke didn’t do anything. He hadn’t said anything. He was just standing there, silent, frozen, unable to speak.

And still—

His father whispered the rest, his tone dipping into something closer to a growl.

“…Do you want to be ruined?”

[filialdisciple]

Hear me out Luke because punishment from that mf or fate go back in past~

Have this messy crack-ish premise dump:

Before Luke could die from the stab wound he inflicted on himself at the end of TLO, Kronos turns back in time—all the way back to Ancient Greece.

Luke thinks he would have been mostly fine being stuck in the past (he doesn't think about all the harm and deaths his actions and choices have caused. he doesnt.), but there was just one major problem...

"Return the body to me, boy."

"This was my body first." Luke wants to snap back.

Luke wishes there was a way to mute all the constant screaming and stubborn clawing for control the Titan was making at the back of his head.

Thankfully, however, it seemed that Kronos' stunt of pulling them back in time had weakened him considerably.

But not enough. It was quite annoying that Luke couldn't stop the titan from stealing control of his right pinky.

How does one even begin to exorcise the King of Titans from his mind and body? Would strolling up to the Oracle of Delphi lead to him figuring out how to stuff the Titan back into his sarcophagus or back into Tartarus where he should have been imprisoned during Ancient Greek times?

...Shit. Could there be two Kronoses existing right now?

The Titan in the back of his head falls silent. Double fuck.

"I don't suppose you could pull us back into the future?"

"..."

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

Luke suddenly feels an ominous chill pass through him.

The hairs on his arms stand up as a beam of verdant light bursts heavenward from the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. He watches a violent storm gathering momentum in front of his very eyes, lightning and thunder illuminating the sky.

Wryly, Luke mutters, "I wonder who that could be for?"

[filialdisciple]

EDIT: CLOSED!! Thank you to everyone who sent in their prompts 🥰🥰]

suffering art block please reply with versions of luke (can be from an au, luke at a certain age, genderbend, etc.) and I'll make fanart <33

⏪ prev!! 1, 2

[filialdisciple]

Protective dad Hermes + pregnant Luke =

Disaster and death for who ever for Luke pregnant

........what if i say it was kronos who got luke pregnant............

i wonder what hermes would do 🫣🫣

[filialdisciple]

Directly inspired by this post by @filialdisciple about Dark!Hermes:

"Maybe I should just break your legs," Hermes muses, voice even. Too even. "Then finally you'll stop running everywhere. Doing things that shouldn't be done. Going to places that even I can't follow."

...What?

Luke is sprawled on the floor, back against the cold stone. His hands are levered flat against the surface, attempting to prop himself up. Hermes looms above him, hands clamped tight on his ankles — a result of when he'd gotten too close and Luke had reflexively tried to kick him.

Hermes' hands are large enough to wrap entirely around his ankles. Luke feels them tighten — not enough to hurt, not yet. But enough to feel the pressure, a trace of the strength hidden behind Hermes' deceptively lithe mortal form.

Hermes could snap his ankles without a thought.

Luke swallows harshly. A ball of ice slowly begins to form in the pit of his stomach.

"Hermes," he snarls, feeling relieved when he doesn't stumble over his words, "what are you doing."

Gone is the charming tilt of Hermes' grin, the roguish, playful glint in his eye. His expression is unsettlingly blank — his eyes, looking straight into Luke's own, are twin slivers of ice.

The intensity of his stare unnerves Luke. There is something inhuman in that gaze, something dark and monstrous. It is as if Hermes has stripped away the façade of humanity that all the gods wear like costumes — revealing the beast that lurks underneath.

Then, Hermes smiles.

Despite himself, Luke shudders. He tries to move backwards, hands scrabbling uselessly at the stone floor.

But Hermes holds him still.

The grip on his ankles grows tighter. The pressure increases until Luke can feel the small bones in his ankles grinding against each other, and he grits his teeth at the pain.

"Stop," he forces out, "stop it."

Still, Hermes says nothing. But the hands around Luke's ankles increases. More and more — until it's almost unbearable, streaks of white-hot, burning agony shooting through his nerves. He tries clawing at Hermes' hands, but they don't budge, don't even move an inch.

He's serious, Luke realises with a sick, dawning horror. He's really going to break my ankles. He's going to — he's really going to snap them.

The hands grow even tighter. It's too much. He can't take it — can't take the agony of having his ankles slowly broken, and he finally cracks.

"STOP!" He screams, voice catching on a sob. "Dad, please!! It hurts, it hurts —"

Silence. For a horrifying moment, Luke almost thinks Hermes has chosen to ignore him.

But in the next second, the awful, agonising pressure on his ankles disappears. He could almost cry from the relief — but he holds in the urge. He won't give Hermes any more than he already has.

Through his blurred vision, he can't see Hermes' expression. But he feels a hand card through his hair gently, smoothing the sweat-soaked strands.

"There you go, son," Hermes says warmly. The affection in his voice is jarring. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Honestly," he sighs, like what had happened earlier was just a slight inconvenience — like he hadn't just been a second away from breaking his own son's legs with his bare hands. "You're getting a bit too old for teenage rebellion, Luke. But that's alright — I suppose that's what a parent is for, isn't it?"

He smiles, warm and kind. Luke thinks he is going to see that smile in his nightmares.

"Now let's go home, shall we?"

[filialdisciple]

we need more possessive Hermes...please?

HELL YEAH !!!! feel free to imagine on your own what might have happened that led up to this 🫣