#'yeah yeah yeah you're still better but i'm taking lessons with her anyway kaythanksbye'

[iridescentoracle]

#LISTEN #SOMEONE NEEDS TO TEACH PERCY HOW TO NOT GET STABBED IN THE BACK #and yes the answer to this is yes percy is diana's invulnerable sparring partner for always #she's delighted #annabeth is hilariously amused by it all #the ares cabin feels like they should hate diana on principle on account of how their dad Hates diana #but on the other hand every single ares kid is like #'heeeeeey pops so like yeah yeah yeah she's a disgrace she's a fucker yeah yeah absolutely' #'but like...have you seen her fight it's good as hell it's so amazing she's so good at fighting' #'yeah yeah yeah you're still better but i'm taking lessons with her anyway kaythanksbye' #percy and diana bond over having beaten up the god of war #it's a weird little friendship they've got happening there #but they are Thick As Thieves within the week #which is impressive because percy at least 50% picked this fight because he wanted to know if diana was a jackass about being a god #she's not so percy's decided they're cool #sometimes artemis or apollo comes to hang with diana (they're the most interested in their new sister) #athena comes at least once mostly to be like 'your aunt was bomb as fuck' and diana's like 'THANKS FOR NOTICING I AGREE' #and anyway at some point they go on a quest to find a man who lost himself to life rather than death #(steve. it is steve. the halfbloods force their company on diana for that trip.) (via words-writ-in-starlight)

I just read your ww/pjo cover and it is amazing. But wait, if you never read the heroes of Olympus series does that mean that your Percy never got hit with the Nerf Bat to make other characters relevant, and so he's now Diana's 'Invincible Punching Bag' forever? Oh. Annabeth would laugh at that forever.

It goes something like this.

“So,” Percy says, looking at the series of utterly demolished sword dummies and the way that Diana hasn’t even broken a sweat.  “You wanna fight?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Diana says.  Diana has been at the Camp for all of two days.  She can be forgiven for not knowing this particular bit of gossip.

Percy grins and gives Riptide an idle spin in his hand.  “You won’t.”

Well.  Either he’s right and Diana gets a new sparring partner, or he’s wrong and everyone learns important lessons about hubris.  She nods and they move aside, toward the sparring ring, and the handful of campers trading idle blows scatter like startled squirrels.  Diana expects them to leave, but instead they range out around the ring with eager expressions.  Fair, she supposes–she’s an unknown quantity, and Percy is one of their better fighters from the sound of it, so they must be curious.

Percy gives her a small salute with Riptide and Diana salutes him in return.

He barely waits for her to lower her blade before he rushes her.

Diana has been training for battle since Percy’s grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather wasn’t even a twinkle in someone’s eye, but he’s fast and fights with total abandon that makes her cringe at Antiope’s remembered voice even as it makes her grin.  She plays defense, drawing him out, and he meets her eyes briefly over their locked blades, huffs out a laugh.  He knows what she’s doing.  Percy plays along, shows off some of the flashier moves that she knows were taught for discipline rather than for combat.

Riptide is a touch shorter than Diana’s preferred sword, but then she stands at six feet, and while Percy is tall, he’s not as tall as she is.  The celestial bronze clashes against her blade as she steps in to catch a blow, and he catches her hilt, giving a twist to see if he can knock her sword to the ground.

Diana reverses the lock and strikes without thinking, a blow with her pommel that risks a broken rib if not worse.

Percy is jolted a few steps back, touches his ribs absently, and doesn’t even miss a beat as he takes another swing.  It’s as powerful as the first, and the small crowd of campers roar encouragement, cheering for the home team.  

Diana narrows her eyes.

She fights more aggressively now, until finally she gets in a blow with her blade, and the edge skates off Percy’s arm like she’s using a butter knife.

“The Curse of Achilles,” she says, the two of them parting for a moment to prowl around the edges of the ring as the campers heckle them, and Percy shrugs blithely.  “I have not seen someone take that on in many years.”

“Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?  You gonna fight me for real now?”

Diana is not a perfect woman.  She knows this well enough.  Possibly her fatal flaw is that she never could resist a challenge.

She grins again and, this time, it’s Diana who lunges forward, faster than any human could hope to follow.  Percy’s eyes widen, but he gets Riptide up in time to catch her sword.  She misses the Godkiller, sometimes, if only for how magnificently well-balanced it was–she’s never been able to find another sword that fit so well in her hand.  Nonetheless, she can see that her blows are beginning to drive Percy back, one step at a time, and when their blades lock again, she gives him a hard twist that sends him stumbling, and she uses her knee braced at the small of his back to flip him to the ground.

Riptide clatters from his hand, and Diana’s knee is firm at the base of Percy’s spine, holding him facedown in the dirt.  The crowd, as modern Americans like to say, goes wild.

“You fight well,” she observes.  “But recklessly.  And you do not guard your back well at all.”  She stands and offers him her hand, and Percy rolls up to his feet without a scratch on him.  He does, however, rub at the place where her knee had been, a little rueful, and Diana watches the movement with interest.

“You’re incredible,” he says, admiring.  “I’ve fought gods and you’re–real good.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, I stabbed Ares in the foot one time when I was twelve.  I think he took it kind of personally.”

He says it almost offhandedly and Diana smiles, wide and fierce.

“He probably deserved it,” she says.

“Well, I shouldn’t say so in case I get struck by lightning, but yeah.  You sound like you’ve met.”

“I have also stabbed Ares.  I found that lightning was more successful.”

Percy looks delighted, still rubbing at the small of his back like he’s expecting a bruise to rise.  “Oh my gods.  You’re teaching combat, right?  Can I watch the first time you teach his cabin?”

“Sure,” Diana says.  She nods at his hand and Percy lowers it with a guilty start.  “And I will teach you how to guard your back, Achilles.”

[words-writ-in-starlight]

I just read your ww/pjo cover and it is amazing. But wait, if you never read the heroes of Olympus series does that mean that your Percy never got hit with the Nerf Bat to make other characters relevant, and so he's now Diana's 'Invincible Punching Bag' forever? Oh. Annabeth would laugh at that forever.

It goes something like this.

“So,” Percy says, looking at the series of utterly demolished sword dummies and the way that Diana hasn’t even broken a sweat.  “You wanna fight?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Diana says.  Diana has been at the Camp for all of two days.  She can be forgiven for not knowing this particular bit of gossip.

Percy grins and gives Riptide an idle spin in his hand.  “You won’t.”

Well.  Either he’s right and Diana gets a new sparring partner, or he’s wrong and everyone learns important lessons about hubris.  She nods and they move aside, toward the sparring ring, and the handful of campers trading idle blows scatter like startled squirrels.  Diana expects them to leave, but instead they range out around the ring with eager expressions.  Fair, she supposes–she’s an unknown quantity, and Percy is one of their better fighters from the sound of it, so they must be curious.

Percy gives her a small salute with Riptide and Diana salutes him in return.

He barely waits for her to lower her blade before he rushes her.

Diana has been training for battle since Percy’s grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather wasn’t even a twinkle in someone’s eye, but he’s fast and fights with total abandon that makes her cringe at Antiope’s remembered voice even as it makes her grin.  She plays defense, drawing him out, and he meets her eyes briefly over their locked blades, huffs out a laugh.  He knows what she’s doing.  Percy plays along, shows off some of the flashier moves that she knows were taught for discipline rather than for combat.

Riptide is a touch shorter than Diana’s preferred sword, but then she stands at six feet, and while Percy is tall, he’s not as tall as she is.  The celestial bronze clashes against her blade as she steps in to catch a blow, and he catches her hilt, giving a twist to see if he can knock her sword to the ground.

Diana reverses the lock and strikes without thinking, a blow with her pommel that risks a broken rib if not worse.

Percy is jolted a few steps back, touches his ribs absently, and doesn’t even miss a beat as he takes another swing.  It’s as powerful as the first, and the small crowd of campers roar encouragement, cheering for the home team.  

Diana narrows her eyes.

She fights more aggressively now, until finally she gets in a blow with her blade, and the edge skates off Percy’s arm like she’s using a butter knife.

“The Curse of Achilles,” she says, the two of them parting for a moment to prowl around the edges of the ring as the campers heckle them, and Percy shrugs blithely.  “I have not seen someone take that on in many years.”

“Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?  You gonna fight me for real now?”

Diana is not a perfect woman.  She knows this well enough.  Possibly her fatal flaw is that she never could resist a challenge.

She grins again and, this time, it’s Diana who lunges forward, faster than any human could hope to follow.  Percy’s eyes widen, but he gets Riptide up in time to catch her sword.  She misses the Godkiller, sometimes, if only for how magnificently well-balanced it was–she’s never been able to find another sword that fit so well in her hand.  Nonetheless, she can see that her blows are beginning to drive Percy back, one step at a time, and when their blades lock again, she gives him a hard twist that sends him stumbling, and she uses her knee braced at the small of his back to flip him to the ground.

Riptide clatters from his hand, and Diana’s knee is firm at the base of Percy’s spine, holding him facedown in the dirt.  The crowd, as modern Americans like to say, goes wild.

“You fight well,” she observes.  “But recklessly.  And you do not guard your back well at all.”  She stands and offers him her hand, and Percy rolls up to his feet without a scratch on him.  He does, however, rub at the place where her knee had been, a little rueful, and Diana watches the movement with interest.

“You’re incredible,” he says, admiring.  “I’ve fought gods and you’re–real good.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, I stabbed Ares in the foot one time when I was twelve.  I think he took it kind of personally.”

He says it almost offhandedly and Diana smiles, wide and fierce.

“He probably deserved it,” she says.

“Well, I shouldn’t say so in case I get struck by lightning, but yeah.  You sound like you’ve met.”

“I have also stabbed Ares.  I found that lightning was more successful.”

Percy looks delighted, still rubbing at the small of his back like he’s expecting a bruise to rise.  “Oh my gods.  You’re teaching combat, right?  Can I watch the first time you teach his cabin?”

“Sure,” Diana says.  She nods at his hand and Percy lowers it with a guilty start.  “And I will teach you how to guard your back, Achilles.”

[blue-ink-pearls]

#diana at camp halfblood au #LISTEN #SOMEONE NEEDS TO TEACH PERCY HOW TO NOT GET STABBED IN THE BACK #and yes the answer to this is yes percy is diana's invulnerable sparring partner for always #she's delighted #annabeth is hilariously amused by it all #the ares cabin feels like they should hate diana on principle on account of how their dad Hates diana #but on the other hand every single ares kid is like #'heeeeeey pops so like yeah yeah yeah she's a disgrace she's a fucker yeah yeah absolutely' #'but like...have you seen her fight it's good as hell it's so amazing she's so good at fighting' #'yeah yeah yeah you're still better but i'm taking lessons with her anyway kaythanksbye' #percy and diana bond over having beaten up the god of war #it's a weird little friendship they've got happening there #but they are Thick As Thieves within the week #which is impressive because percy at least 50% picked this fight because he wanted to know if diana was a jackass about being a god #she's not so percy's decided they're cool #sometimes artemis or apollo comes to hang with diana (they're the most interested in their new sister) #athena comes at least once mostly to be like 'your aunt was bomb as fuck' and diana's like 'THANKS FOR NOTICING I AGREE' #and anyway at some point they go on a quest to find a man who lost himself to life rather than death #(steve. it is steve. the halfbloods force their company on diana for that trip.) (@words-writ-in-starlight )

I just read your ww/pjo cover and it is amazing. But wait, if you never read the heroes of Olympus series does that mean that your Percy never got hit with the Nerf Bat to make other characters relevant, and so he's now Diana's 'Invincible Punching Bag' forever? Oh. Annabeth would laugh at that forever.

It goes something like this.

“So,” Percy says, looking at the series of utterly demolished sword dummies and the way that Diana hasn’t even broken a sweat.  “You wanna fight?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Diana says.  Diana has been at the Camp for all of two days.  She can be forgiven for not knowing this particular bit of gossip.

Percy grins and gives Riptide an idle spin in his hand.  “You won’t.”

Well.  Either he’s right and Diana gets a new sparring partner, or he’s wrong and everyone learns important lessons about hubris.  She nods and they move aside, toward the sparring ring, and the handful of campers trading idle blows scatter like startled squirrels.  Diana expects them to leave, but instead they range out around the ring with eager expressions.  Fair, she supposes–she’s an unknown quantity, and Percy is one of their better fighters from the sound of it, so they must be curious.

Percy gives her a small salute with Riptide and Diana salutes him in return.

He barely waits for her to lower her blade before he rushes her.

Diana has been training for battle since Percy’s grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather wasn’t even a twinkle in someone’s eye, but he’s fast and fights with total abandon that makes her cringe at Antiope’s remembered voice even as it makes her grin.  She plays defense, drawing him out, and he meets her eyes briefly over their locked blades, huffs out a laugh.  He knows what she’s doing.  Percy plays along, shows off some of the flashier moves that she knows were taught for discipline rather than for combat.

Riptide is a touch shorter than Diana’s preferred sword, but then she stands at six feet, and while Percy is tall, he’s not as tall as she is.  The celestial bronze clashes against her blade as she steps in to catch a blow, and he catches her hilt, giving a twist to see if he can knock her sword to the ground.

Diana reverses the lock and strikes without thinking, a blow with her pommel that risks a broken rib if not worse.

Percy is jolted a few steps back, touches his ribs absently, and doesn’t even miss a beat as he takes another swing.  It’s as powerful as the first, and the small crowd of campers roar encouragement, cheering for the home team.  

Diana narrows her eyes.

She fights more aggressively now, until finally she gets in a blow with her blade, and the edge skates off Percy’s arm like she’s using a butter knife.

“The Curse of Achilles,” she says, the two of them parting for a moment to prowl around the edges of the ring as the campers heckle them, and Percy shrugs blithely.  “I have not seen someone take that on in many years.”

“Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?  You gonna fight me for real now?”

Diana is not a perfect woman.  She knows this well enough.  Possibly her fatal flaw is that she never could resist a challenge.

She grins again and, this time, it’s Diana who lunges forward, faster than any human could hope to follow.  Percy’s eyes widen, but he gets Riptide up in time to catch her sword.  She misses the Godkiller, sometimes, if only for how magnificently well-balanced it was–she’s never been able to find another sword that fit so well in her hand.  Nonetheless, she can see that her blows are beginning to drive Percy back, one step at a time, and when their blades lock again, she gives him a hard twist that sends him stumbling, and she uses her knee braced at the small of his back to flip him to the ground.

Riptide clatters from his hand, and Diana’s knee is firm at the base of Percy’s spine, holding him facedown in the dirt.  The crowd, as modern Americans like to say, goes wild.

“You fight well,” she observes.  “But recklessly.  And you do not guard your back well at all.”  She stands and offers him her hand, and Percy rolls up to his feet without a scratch on him.  He does, however, rub at the place where her knee had been, a little rueful, and Diana watches the movement with interest.

“You’re incredible,” he says, admiring.  “I’ve fought gods and you’re–real good.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, I stabbed Ares in the foot one time when I was twelve.  I think he took it kind of personally.”

He says it almost offhandedly and Diana smiles, wide and fierce.

“He probably deserved it,” she says.

“Well, I shouldn’t say so in case I get struck by lightning, but yeah.  You sound like you’ve met.”

“I have also stabbed Ares.  I found that lightning was more successful.”

Percy looks delighted, still rubbing at the small of his back like he’s expecting a bruise to rise.  “Oh my gods.  You’re teaching combat, right?  Can I watch the first time you teach his cabin?”

“Sure,” Diana says.  She nods at his hand and Percy lowers it with a guilty start.  “And I will teach you how to guard your back, Achilles.”