Till Sunrise ┊Luke Castellan

Painted Gold ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Waterhouse , John William. 'Circe Offering the Cup to Ulysses'. 1891 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Words: 1,952

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This is just a little thank you for all the love and support so far.

I really appreciate all the interactions I get from you guys (hell love reading all your comments,  you guys are just too funny) 

hope you like the chapter
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AU where Luke and Phoebe have to deal with Ares' shield.

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As they strolled down the desolate carnival street, haunting notes of fairground music began to twist through the air.

Phoebe swallowed harshly in response, a shiver in her voice echoing the discomfort that clung to her. "I feel like we're about to get murdered," she voiced, her expression scrunching up. In the distance, one of the run-down buildings creaked to life, its lights flickering on, enveloping them in a soft pink glow. The Tunnel of Love.

Phoebe let out an audible sigh, her features souring even more. "I hate this place." Luke looked down at her with an amused glint, rolling his eyes as he gently took her hand, guiding her towards the 'Thrill Ride O' Love.'

"Come on let's go get that shield" he encouraged, leading them forward.

"All I'm saying is, why can't they just leave their stuff in more convenient, less creepy, murdery, I'm-about-to-die-places," Phoebe lamented, her steps dragging and full of reluctance. The flickering lights above them cast fleeting shadows on the remnants of the carnival, as she eyed her surroundings nervously.

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The water gently sloshed around them as their boat meandered through the serpentine path of the ride. A distant thud reverberated, unsettling Luke, who began to scan the dark depths of their surroundings. The dim light bulbs above flickered abruptly, and the airy melody of 'What is Love' filled the tense air.

"Oh gods," Phoebe muttered, grimacing.

"Hey, it's not the worst song choice," Luke defended the tune, nodding and fist-pumping the air to the rhythm. Phoebe merely arched an eyebrow, unimpressed, while he grinned in response.

Suddenly, ethereal pink vines of fire materialised along the walls, morphing into a vivid blue hue as a spectral figure emerged, dancing in sync with the music. Within the flames, a narrative unfolded - a small figure, a baby, surrounded by forging tools, grew within the womb of a pregnant woman.

The story of the blacksmith god, Phoebe mused silently.

They witnessed the baby Hephaestus being cast off a cliff, growing into a skilled blacksmith, and then being rejected by both Hera and Aphrodite. The fiery projection displayed Ares striking him, causing Hephaestus to collapse and with it the iridescent blaze vanished, leaving them engulfed in impenetrable darkness. Ahead, green crystals shimmered, only just illuminating what appeared to be a drop.