#I think Percy would be the one to drop out for a full time job

[imagine-too-many-books]

Imagine Annabeth and Percy have a kid early, unplanned and it kinda fucks with their finances so Percy drops out of school to get a job so he can care for the kid and support Annabeth in school. At first he gets a job teaching kids sword fighting but then he hears about underwater welding which pays well because it’s dangerous but Percy is a child of the sea so it’s much less so for him. His boss is even willing to give him flexible hours which means Annabeth doesn’t have to take their kid to class anymore and they can actually afford daycare (why does is it the price of a mortgage nowadays???). A huge financial burden is lifted and Percy doesn’t mind the work so it’s good all the way around.

Fast forward to when Annabeth is done her masters in architecture and lands a job at a top firm. They’ve got savings and have Annabeth’s income to rely on. Percy heads back to school and finishes a degree in marine biology, going on to research some really niche topics like how underwater welding impacts the environment and shifting from there until he’s a well known expert in the field.

Just them finding their way. Supporting each other and landing on their feet no matter what

[cherry-pop-elf]

hiya, i was wondering if you could make a headcanon sorta thing with the weasleys and them realising they’re in love with reader

Gasp, that sounds so fluffy. I MUST!

Weasley siblings the moment they realize that they are in love

Warnings: Only really for Bill honesty. I have to make it from his werewolf wounds. So medical gore warning. Bullying as well, with some scared Ron. Because it will involve spiders.

William ‘Bill’

The moment his working eye was able to focus, he was able to see you. See you there. You were fast asleep next to him. Curled up in his side, with your arms tucked in on yourself. That way you wouldnt mess with his bandages and wounds. He was in so much pain, and could hardly breath, but you were there. He was able to see your hands were slightly red, seeming to be irritated. Thats when he noticed the bowl of water on his bedside table. Along with a bloody rag. You must have been busy with washing his fresh wounds, while he was knocked out. You were taking care of him, until you needed sleep as well. That warmed him, as he was clearly taken care of. Especially given where he was. The Wolf Ward. A place for people suffering werewolfism are stayed. People tied to beds, chained, hooked to IV's, near death, already dead, so many cases. Yet.....Here you were. You stayed. You stayed, made sure he was taken care of, and made sure he wasnt alone. You loved him. Loved him so much, despite the risks. Even as far as sleeping in the same bed as him. That was when he knew it. Knew he was in love. His breathing was able to move easier, as he wrapped his arm around you. Hurt like hell, but worth it. Worth it, as he was able to see you smile.

Charlie

"What?” He blinked, as he stared out his bedroom window. Looking down to see you there. “You heard me. I’ll cause a distraction. I know you are packed. Go on and go-!” You called, as he was jaw dropped. He had been arguing with his mother for ages about this. Molly didn’t want him to have such a dangerous job. But of course precious golden child Bill got to be a curse breaker. One would argue is even more dangerous. Despite the letters of people wanting him to work in Romania, his mother refused. Over and over again. Seems like someone had other plans. You. You knew this could be the last time you see him, but you just couldn’t let him rot away in England. So, you hatched a plan. You would distract Molly, and give him enough time to sneak into the fireplace and get to Romania. “You are bloody insane….I like that-“ Charlie had to smile, as you would run around to the front of the house. Leaving Charlie to make sure he was properly packed. While he made sure his dragon hide gloves were inside, he could hear you knocking the front door. The familiar creaks of his mother leaving her room, and heading to the front door. He tossed his bag over his shoulder, and hurried down the stairs. “Where is the floo-?” He hissed. Of course she would hide it. Making sure he couldn’t sneak off. Course, you were smart enough to think ahead. “Oh come in. I’ll fix you something. Poor thing out in the late night cold. Come on-“ The moment she stepped to the kitchen, you ran over to him. Handing him your bag of floo. “Go go-“ You whispered, as he stared into your eyes. His heart never felt so full. “Better promise to visit-“ And before you knew it, he was kissing you. Kissing you goodbye. You were dazzed, only to snap back when the flash of green of the fire place echoed. “What was that-?!” Molly called. “NOTHING-!” You squeaked, with your face flushed. Left Charlie in a sappy smile, as his new chapter begun. With you in it.

Percy

“Leave him alone!” Percy heard you shout, as he was currently being dangled from his ankle. For being a prefect, he sure did not get treated as such. Was ambushed by a gaggle of Slytherins, younger then him no less, and now he was up in the air. Unable to grab his wand, as he just did not have the core strength. Another taunt at him. “Oh? What will you do if we don’t?” A bully asked, as you kept your fists tight. Percy didn’t want you to fight for him, but you were willing to even though you knew you would lose. And lose you did. Hard. Least in the chaos, Percy was able to escape. Running off to get a teacher, and catching them red handed. Needless to say, suspension will not be to light. Now, there you two were. Sitting in the medical wing. Both sharing a bed, as you two sat together. “You didn’t have to-“ He muttered, as he fidgeted with his bandages. “Yeah I did. Someone’s gotta. Bill and Charlie were busy.” You tried to play off, before you felt his hand holding yours. “Still. Pretty stupid…” He grumbled, but you returned the hand holding. “Someone’s gotta be stupid, so you don’t have a stick up your butt.” You smiled, as he rested his head on your shoulder. Comforted, and at peace.

Fred

“Wicked-“ Fred whispered, as the two of you were huddled together. Hidden away in a corner of the Three Broom Sticks, as you two were bonding over the map. Able to just people watch so happily. George had been given detention, and Fred was able to have a reassuring comfort in seeing him on the map. Knowing he wasn’t anywhere dangerous, given what happened to Ginny. It also was comforting to be sitting with someone as well. The two of you just snuggled in the tavern, during a winters day. It was soft. Different from the normal madness he’s used to. It’s different, and he liked different. Different also meant a change in habits. Such as feeling you rest your head on his shoulder. Trying to snuggle closer, to get more warmth. He couldn’t help it, as he wrapped his arm around you. Just you cuddling, and oblivious, as you watched the map. So curious by it, as he was more fascinated by you now. Taking advantage of how distracted you were. Maybe quiet moments were nice. Couldn’t help but rest his head against yours, and take in your scent. A quiet moment. A moment to think, and he was thinking hard. Maybe he wanted more quiet moments like this. Couldn’t help his smile, as you pointed at a name on the map. Making up some speculation on why they were there at this time. Had him laugh, and just melt into the moment. Yeah. He wanted more of this.

George

“George George Georgie Georgie Georgie-!” You just wouldn’t stop shouting, as you were soon crashing into him. Right when he left the shop he was in. Having been helping his younger siblings with getting school supplies. “Hey-! Who says I’m George-?!” He joked, as you didn’t let go. “Because you are actually nice-!” You tease, as he was hugging you back. “Also you have a mole on your neck, Fred doesn’t-“ You whispered. That had him blink, as he reached to said neck. “Ha-! Made you look-!” You giggled so deviously, before he pushed you away. He was cackling though. “You got me, I won’t lie-!” He snorted, as you two were just in giggles. It was so nice. He liked to laugh, and sometimes laughter from someone who wasn’t identical to you was nice. You felt as natural to laugh with as Fred. That’s something special. You don’t come across that easy. He knew you were special, and that simple moment was nice. “George-! Help-!” Ginny called, as she struggled with her supplies. “Coming Gin Gin-!” He would hurry over, with you in toe. Instantly helping, all the same. He couldn’t stop his smile, as he watched you help Ginny out. Shit, he was in love. And he knew it.

Ron

“HELP-! PLEASE! SOMEONE-!” Ron was screaming bloody murder, as he was cowering in the corner of the stone corridor of the courtyard. A decently large spider was keeping him trapped on a bench, and trying to hide his body as much as he could in the corner. He was in tears, as he was trying to hide from the spider. Luckily, you could hear him. “IM COMING RON-!” You shouted, as you ran across the stones. Coming into view, and seeing what was distressing him. He was already expecting you to yell at him for being such a baby about it. You didn’t, but instead you focused on getting the spider away. You pulled out your wand, and remembered what Hermione taught you both. “Wingardium Leviosa-“ You called, and lifted the spider into the air. You then made sure to make as much distance from Ron as you could, and let it escape into the wild. Other side of the courtyard, and outside a window. That way it would return to the forest. Once done, you hurried back. Quick to hold Ron. “It’s ok, it was a big spider. Spiders can be pretty dangerous.” You comforted. Not teasing him, or calling him a baby. Not making fun of him, but actually took his fear seriously. The relief was in his tears, as he held you back. Holding you tightly, as you pet his hair. You understood it was a fear, and fears were serious. He was so relieved. You were his hero, and he owed you for it. His guardian Angel. “Thank you-“ He hiccuped, as you kissed his head. “You would have done the same, shush.” You tease, as you didn’t discount that he can be brave. That was the kicker that sparked something inside of him. He was smiling, as you held him. For as long as he needed. You cared about him, and he was sure caring about you.

Ginny

“Do you think I’ll ever become a Quidditch player-?” Ginny asked you, as you two were busy in class. Was History Of Magic, with Professor Binns. Boring as hell, so it wasn’t like you two were paying attention. “Yeah, doubting yourself?” You asked, as she played with her Quill. “Maybe…” She mumbled, before plopping her head on the table. Ever since that incident in the chambers, she got depressed far easier. Bill said that’s often a side effect of being involved with a long term curse, or being exposed to a Horcrux. Curse breaker stuff, so you didn’t really focus on it. Well, until Ginny needed help. She needed a cheerleader, and like hell you wouldn’t grab your Pom Pom’s and cheer. “You’ll be an amazing Qudditch player. I know it. The best even! You’ll make history.” You beam, as she watched you. Unable to really hear you, as she sighed. So, you did what you’ve seen her brothers do. You hugged her, and refused to let go. “Get off me-“ She whined, but you refused. “I shall suffocate you, until you say uncle-“ You warned, before she started to giggle at you. “Seriously, stop-“ She pleaded, but was giggling away. “Not until you say you are the best quidditch player ever. I mean it, I’m stubborn-“ You warned, as she threw her hands up in defeat. “I yield I yield. I shall be better than the likes of Viktor Krum, even-“ She spoke with sarcasm, but it’s a step. “Nope, you gotta mean it.” You refused, as she giggled again. “Eh, you’re comfy.” She retaliated, as you two ended up in a cuddle bundle. She was able to smile, and mean it. Was hard to do, since that incident. She liked it. Liked how you were able to do it so easy for her. Had her heart all a flutter. Guess that’s another thing she will need to ask her older brothers about. What to do when someone gives you butterflies?

[voltronisanobsession]

Heyyyy

Could you write Percy Jackson with a fem s/o who is drum major? (If you don’t know what that is, it’s the person conducting the marching band!)

Percy with a Drum Major Reader

HEEYY!!! Since my sister is in the band at our school, she lowkey kinda helped me with this😍😍

Hope I did you justice pookie, this was new territory for me💋‼️

You’re probably one of the few people that has a life outside of camp LMAO💀

You’ve been doing this for who knows how long, you take a lot of pride in what you do!

When Percy finds out you’re a drum major, he thinks it’s the actual drums (like me lmao) until you explain what you actually do

He really respects your position once he knows what a drum major does. He jokes that he would accidentally mess everyone up with his lack of rhythm hehe

Being a drum major takes a LOT of your time outside of school

He knows you’re pretty serious about your position, so whenever he can, if you’re nearby, he’d probably drop by your school to see you and your band practice!

He loves watching you practice, he’s so supportive and excited when he sees you. It’s like you’re a whole different person when you’re in your zone, so lively and full of energy!

He’s always encouraging you to continue when you begin getting frustrated that you can’t get down a certain toss or routine

He definitely has a cold bottle of water waiting for you when you take breaks too. If he can fit them all in his backpack, he also brings water for your band mates as well

(He actually started carrying two backpacks full of water after Sally found out how much people are in your band, Percy’s poor back lmao)

Everyone at this point knows it’s Percy when he arrives to your practices. They love him lol

I like to think that you all might force him to join you as a drum major for a practice or two

And because of his his demigod genes, he does a pretty good damn job in keeping up with you and everyone else

Don’t get me STARTED on when he actually sees you performing on a field, in front of SO many people

Like this dude is screaming and yelling the loudest, clapping whenever you nail a trick with extreme precision

“LET’S GO! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT! I KNOW THEM, I’M DATING THEM!”

He’s so loud that you swore you heard him yelling from the bleachers one time LMAO

But alas, because of how demanding your role is, you’ve unfortunately had to miss a year or two of camp

He’d be so devastated if you tell him near the end of the school year that he’d be going to camp without you

“Percy, I have bad news…”

*squints* “What is it?”

“I’mnotgoingtocampthisyear-!”

“NOOOO!”

He promises to send you letters though, like the romantic boyfriend he is😍

A lot of the half blood campers joke about you betraying them for your band camp

But they all know how passionate you are about being the drum major in your band, so they can never bring you down for too long

Honestly, Percy is super supportive of you, he only wants to see you succeed in what you love to do most😔💔

You’re a natural leader on and off the field, and he admires you so much for being able to juggle the life of a half blood and a drum major😫😫

[vivitalks]

like a burst of technicolor in a world of black and white

for the prompt "painting nails" on my @jasico-challenges bingo card. guys i am really having fun with this bingo thing have yall heard about this. this shit rules anyway imagine an AU where trials of apollo is a collective hallucination we all experienced and then decided never to speak of again. and instead jason stayed at CHB after the showdown w gaea. okay you are now prepared for the events of this fic xoxo

title from extraordinary magic by ben rector :) read here on ao3

“How come you didn't go to school?”

Fair question, but pretty random.

They're spread out on the floor of Cabin One. When Nico marched in armed with a bottle of nail polish the color of a cloudless sky and insisted on painting Jason's nails, Jason tossed his sketchbook aside. Any activity with Nico is better than drawing shrines alone. 

Nico got to work and they descended into easy silence. Jason figured that was for Nico's focus, so he didn't break it, just allowed his mind to wander aimlessly.

When he tunes back in at Nico's inquiry, he sees two nails painted — left index and middle, coated in light blue. Jason has never had his nails painted. He doesn't know if it's always this soothing, but if it is, he can understand why so many people do it.

“You mean instead of staying at camp year-round?”

Nico nods and takes the brush to Jason's next finger. His face of concentration is extremely cute: narrowed eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip, one rebellious strand of dark hair he keeps blowing out of his face only for it to fall right back in his eyes.

“You could have,” he says. “You’d only have two years before graduation. Could get a diploma.”

Jason shrugs. “Yeah, but why would I? It’s not like I was getting a formal education before. Praetor was a year-round job.”

Nico hums. He's really very good at this. If the demigod thing doesn't pan out, he has a future as a manicurist.

“Plus,” Jason adds gamely, “I don't exactly have a parent or guardian to enroll me anywhere.”

“I'm sure Chiron would be more than happy to falsify some legal documents.”

Jason chuckles. “You think so?”

“Are you kidding?” Nico snorts. “Percy told me Chiron posed as his Latin teacher for a full year when he was younger. He would love to invent a transcript for you.”

Jason gives this a dismissive laugh so they can put the topic to rest. He thought about trying to go to school, for sure. He spent about six minutes seriously considering it. I could have some normalcy, he'd mused. Be a high school kid. Sure, I don't have any surviving mortal parents, or anywhere to live during the school year, or any money, or any previous course credits, or any documents to prove I'm a real person, but. Those are solvable problems.

Then he’d thought, Or I could stay at camp, and the decision made itself.

Maybe it's bleak to say, but there's nothing for him out there. In the real world. He has no memory of being a baby living with Thalia and his mother, and after that, his whole life was the legion. Training with Lupa was the closest thing Jason had to elementary school. Everything that matters to him — his friends, his family, his sworn duty to the minor gods — starts and ends in camp. His youth is tattooed with the brand of Camp Jupiter. His freedom is a leather necklace tied by Camp Half-Blood.

Why leave?

“I'm good here,” is all he says.

Nico isn't ready to drop it. “But then why stay here? You didn't want to go back to Camp Jupiter?”

Jason raises both eyebrows. “Did you want me to?”

“No!” Nico scowls. “I'm just curious.”

Methodical brush strokes turn Jason's fourth fingernail blue. It's a pretty color; Jason wonders what inspired Nico to choose it. It's probably not Nico's first time painting someone's nails, because he's very skillfully managing not to get any polish on Jason's skin. He has good hands for the job — thin and precise. Careful. Deliberate.

“The plan was really to split my time,” Jason says, just as careful, just as deliberate. “I was already at Camp Half-Blood, so I figured I'd spend a little while here, then a while at Camp Jupiter, and, you know, so on.”

“But…it's been two months,” Nico says.

The unspoken question: why haven't you gone back yet?

“Well, yeah,” Jason says. His own stillness is becoming uncomfortable. If he moves, he risks ruining Nico's artwork, but sitting this stationary isn't in his nature. Like most demigods, he has a compulsion to fidget. It's less noticeable in him — less than, say, Leo — but in moments of extreme stagnancy, it doubles down.

“Are you planning to go back at all?”

It's not an interrogation. At least, Jason doesn't think so. It's not small talk, either. Nico is his friend. This is a friendly conversation. There are no wrong answers here.

“Eventually,” Jason says. “To visit. But…to stay?” He shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

“All your friends are there,” Nico says, and he's still looking down, focused on his task, like this statement is a reflex, requiring no thought.

“Not all,” Jason says, watching him. “You're here.”

That gets Nico’s attention. He looks up. “Me?”

“You're my friend,” Jason says.

“Don't tell me you stayed here just for me.” It comes out like a bad joke. Like it couldn't possibly be true.

“Well…” Jason pauses. “I don't know if that's the only reason, but it definitely helped.”

“What? Are you joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because that's—” Nico stops halfway through painting Jason’s little finger. He gestures like words aren't enough. “That's crazy!”

“You just said I should go to Camp Jupiter because my friends are there,” Jason says, puzzled. “Why is it crazy to stay at Camp Half-Blood for the same reason?”

“I’m one person. Friend, singular. Meanwhile your entire cohort of friends is over in California.”

“Yeah, but…” Jason gnaws his cheek. He has this suspicion Nico won't like any of his answers, then decides he doesn't care. “They don't need me over there. I gave my praetorship to Frank, so I'm officially released from leadership duty, and I don't regret it for a second. It makes no difference to the legion if I'm there or not, except as this— I don't know, symbol of greatness that I…really am not.” He grimaces, examining his semi-painted pinky nail, this half-finished, imperfect thing. “Here, I feel like…maybe it matters if I'm here or not. And not because of who my dad is or my rank or anything, just because…well, we're friends.”

Nico stares. Then he lifts Jason's hand and starts painting again, picking up where he left off. With his gaze trained downward, away from Jason's, he says, “It does matter. To me.”

Jason smiles. He gets the same feeling as stepping outside in the morning into perfect weather — pleasantly, comfortably surprised.

“There you go, then,” he says. “I mean, if you want me to leave—”

“No,” Nico says quickly, then glares as if he's mad about being tricked into admitting he wants Jason to stay. Recovering, he snarks, “If you leave, I won’t have anyone to subject to my nail-polish schemes.”

“I bet Will would let you paint his nails.”

“Will wouldn't let me anywhere near him with any kind of artistic implement, as well he shouldn’t. I would absolutely deface him.”

“Honored that you've elected not to deface me.”

Nico turns a rosy shade of pink. “This time.”

This is that other kind of Nico threat, the kind reserved for friends. For Jason. The kind that, underneath, isn't a threat at all, but a promise.

This time means there will be a next time. That's Jason's favorite kind of threat.

“You're weirdly good at this,” Jason says. Nico has finished his left hand by now and moved on to the right. “Since when is this in your skill set?”

“Bianca,” Nico says. Matter-of-fact, without room to grieve. “A couple nights when we were in the Lotus Hotel, she asked me to paint hers. First time I tried, it was such a mess. She did mine to show me how, so I could learn.”

Jason catches his breath. “Clearly it paid off, ‘cause you're killing it.”

This was something Nico did with Bianca. And now he's sharing it with Jason. That gives Jason a feeling in his gut that's both warm and heavy, like a big dog is curled up in there, taking a sunbeam nap.

“You'll have to do mine after,” Nico says, still no-nonsense. “Black, obviously.”

“I don't have any nail polish.”

“I brought some. Lacy gave it to me. From Cabin Ten. Magical, so it doesn't smudge or chip.”

“I didn't even realize nail polish did that.”

“You have a lot to learn.” Nico nods sagely. “That's okay. Everyone starts somewhere.”

“It is very relaxing. I can see the appeal,” Jason admits. He wiggles the fingers of his finished hand, admiring them. “How’d you land on this color, though? Or was it just a random pick?”

 Nico looks strangely at Jason. Some of that blush from earlier returns. “You're…the son of the sky god.”

Jason studies the color. It's not quite sky blue, but close enough. “Huh,” he says, feeling silly for not having made the connection. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Besides,” Nico says, a little quieter like it's not exactly for Jason to hear, but not not for him to hear, either, “it's the color of your eyes.”

That sleeping dog behind Jason's navel starts thumping its tail.

“Oh,” Jason says. He's not sure he could confirm that, but Nico sounds utterly certain. The fact that Nico has spent enough time looking at Jason's eyes that he can pinpoint their exact shade is its own can of worms. For future opening. At a later date. “Well, I like it. It's pretty.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, and his fingers press gently into Jason's palm as he continues to paint. “It is.”

[lunalucykat]

RULES: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.

Thanks for tagging me @menkhu !!! :) :D

coke or pepsi: my soda of choice is Dr Pepper, but if i HAD to choose between these two then Coke

disney or dreamworks: i really don't know. I don't keep up with these studios anymore. Maybe Disney???

coffee or tea: coffee

books or movies: movies

windows or mac: sorry, born and raised with Macs....

dc or marvel: neither lol. I really don't do superhero stuff, but I GUESS DC if i had to choose

x-box or playstation: nintendo lol

dragon age or mass effect: i've never played either of these so i dont have an opinion

night owl or early riser: born to be a night owl, forced by job to be an early riser... catch me waking up at 4am to go to work...

cards or chess: cards

chocolate or vanilla: chocolate

vans or converse: i own a singular pair of vans, so i guess vans lol

Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash, or Adaar: sorry, i don't know what this is in reference to

fluff or angst: why not both? :3c

beach or forest: beach. It's been so long since I've see the ocean, I wanna go back

dogs or cats: dogs

clear skies or rain: Clear skies! I used to be one of those emo teens that would always say rain on this question, but now that i'm in my extreme late 20s I understand the importance of sunshine

cooking or eating out: tough question. SOMETIMES I like cooking, but also most of the times I'm lazy as fuck so I do get carryout a fair amount

spicy food or mild food: mild, my stomach can't handle a lot of spice unfortunately

halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: Boy do i LOVE the aesthetics of Halloween, but Christmas is really the best. I love the lights and warmth and music and food and family during the WORST season (winter. I hate winter so GD much)

would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: a little too hot

if you could have a superpower, what would it be: either invisibility (because i'm a nosy binch that loves dropping eaves) or shapeshifting

animation or live action: i generally prefer animation

paragon or renegade: idk what this is, sorry

baths or showers: showers

team cap or team ironman: could not care less

fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy

do you have three or four favorite quotes, if so what are they: oof! I don't really have favorite quotes. But at the current moment I can almost perfectly recite the whole of Live Action One Piece (not joking lol) There's a lot of talk about believing in yourself and following your dreams which is really nice though. I do also have legit quotes from Octopath Traveler that I like: "Even grown-ups need a good cry from time to time." -Alfyn Greengrass. And then as a more funny quote that I love from Octopath: "O, woe is me, doomed to never realize the full depth of my good looks and charisma!" -Cyrus Albright. Because I am very humble lmao

youtube or netflix: very rare for me to NOT be watching YouTube

harry potter or percy jackson: Percy Jackson

when do you feel accomplished: i guess when i make a joke and people laugh :)

star wars or star trek: I don't have a strong feeling on either of these really

paperback books or hardcover books: hardcover

to live in a world without literature or without music?: i love writing, but i am almost always listening to music. I don't think i could live without it

who was the last person to make you laugh? almost positive it was TJ

city or countryside? small city/town?

favorite chips? i like just plain but salty tortilla chips that i can dip into hummus or queso or what have you

pants or dresses? my favorite thing is to wear shorts over leggings. Pokemon protagonist lookin' ass!

libraries or museums? museums

character driven stories or plot driven stories? character driven

bookmarks or folding pages? bookmarks

Dream job? lol...lmao..... YouTube/ Twitch streamer lol.

What gives you comfort? unwinding in my room. late night chats with TJ. my dog. watching whichever show i'm really into at the moment (rn it's One Piece)

what are some of your favorite song lyrics? Oof... Like in general? Because I know there are songs I like to sing just because they're fun to sing... But I don't really know if i have any songs where the lyrics really jump out at me in a meaningful way. Well, okay. All of the Simple Plan songs I have meant something to me for sure as a little emo teenager, but, hmm.... For current me? Dreams by the Cranberries has been one of those songs where I really just soak in the vibes and listen to it, so I'll give you a nice lyric from that. "Oh my life/ is changing every day/ in every possible way. And oh my dreams/ it's never quite as it seems/ never quite as it seems"

Do you believe in ghosts?

Tagging: Literally anyone who wants to do this!!! Seriously! It's pretty fun! But in order to try and keep it going (cause I know almost no one will just do it if I don't tag them specifically, and i Get It) But I'll tag @bitter-like-coffee, @pawelcyril, and @electric016

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

I have weird dreams full of barnyard animals and horiffic flashes of golden light.

I must've woken several times, but what I hear and see makes no sense, so I just pass out again. I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoonfed something that tastes like popcorn, only it's pudding. The pretty girl with the curly blonde hair hovers over me, smirking as she scrapes drips off my chin with the spoon.

When she sees my eyes open, she asks, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

"What?" I manage to croak.

Annabeth - I presumed - looks around, as if afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "I don't . . ."

Someone knocks on the door, and the girl quickly fills my mouth with the pudding.

. . .

The next time I wake, the blonde girl is gone.

A husky blonde dude, like a surfer, stands in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He has blue eyes - at least a dozen of them - on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

. . .

When I finally come around for good, there is nothing weird about my surroundings, except that They're nicer than I'm used to. I am sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smells like strawberries. There is a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that is great, but my mouth feels like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue is dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurts.

On the table next to me is a tall drink. It looks like iced apple juice, with a green straw, and a paper parasol sticks through a maraschingo cherry.

My hand is so weak I almost drop the glass once I get my fingers around it.

"Careful," says a voice.

Grover is leaning against a porch railing, looking as though he hadn't slept in a week and his eyes are clouded with grief. Under one arm, Grover cradles a shoe box. He is wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange t-shirt that says Camp Half-Blood.

Maybe I'd had a nightmare. Maybe Mom and Percy are okay. We're on vacation and we'd stopped here at this big house for some reason. And . . .

"You saved my life," Grover says. "I...well, the least I could do...I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

Reverently, Grover places the shoe box in my lap.

Inside is a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood.

It hadn't been a nightmare.

"I -" I falter, looking at the horn.

Grover shifts uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?" he asks.

"Mom. Percy. Are they really . . ."

Grover looks down.

I stare across the meadow. There are grovers of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spreading out under the blue sky. The valley is surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, is the one with the hige pine tree on top; even that looks beautiful in the sunlight.

My family is gone, nothing should be beautiful. Everything should be black and cold.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffles. "I'm a failure. I'm - I'm the worst saytr in the world." He moans, stomping his foot so hard that the Converse hi-tops come off. The inside of the who was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole. "Oh, Styx!" he mumbles.

Thunder rolls across the clear sky.

As Grover struggles to get his hoof back in the fake foot, I think, Well, that settles it.

Grover is a saytr. I am ready to bet that if I shaved his curly brown hair, I'd find tiny horns on his head. But I was too miserable to care that saytrs exist, or even minotaurs.

All that meant was that my mom and brother had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light.

I'm alone.

Grover is still sniffling, and my grief subsides for a heartbeat.

I say softly, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect Per-" the saytr's voice falters.

"Did my mother ask you to protect him?" I ask.

"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least...I was."

"But why..." I suddenly feel dizzy, my vision swimming.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover says gently. "Here." The saytr helps me hold my glass and puts the straw to my lips.

I almost recoil at the the taste, because I am expecting iced apple juice, but it's not that at all. It's chocolate-chip cookies. Mom's cookies - homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with teh chips still melting. Drinking it, my entire body feels good and warm, full of energy. My grief doesn't go away, but I feel as if my mom had just brushed her hand against my cheek or a bruise from my stepfather, and given me a cookie the way she'd always used to. She would always tell me everything was going to be okay.

Before I know it, I'd drained the glass. I stare into it, sure I'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.

"Was it good?" Grover asks.

I nod.

"What did it taste like?" Grover sounds so wistful that I feel guilty.

"Sorry," I apologize. "I should've let you taste."

His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just...wondered."

"Chocolate-chip cookies," I reply. "My mom's. Homemade."

He sighs. "And how do you feel?"

"Like I could throw my stepfather a hundred yards."

"That's good," he says. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff."

"What do you mean?"

Grover takes the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it's dynamite, and sets it back on the table. "Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."

. . .

The porch wrapped all the way around a farmhouse.

My legs feel wobbly, trying to walk that far; Grover offers to carry the Minotaur horn, but I hold on to it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I couldn't let it go.

As we come around teh opposite end of the house, I catch my breath.

We must've been on teh north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marches all the way up to the water, which glitters beautifully about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I can't comprehend what I'm seeing. The landscape is dotted with buildings that look like the ancient Greek architecture I'd struggled to read about in books through my dyslexia - an open-air pavilion, and amphitheater, a circular arena - except that they all look brand new, their whie marble columns sparkling in the glittering sun. IN a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and saytrs played volleyball. Canoes glide across a small lake. Kids in bright orange t-shirts like Grover's are chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. SOme shoot targets at an archery range. Others ride horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was still deleriouus, some of their horses had wings.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sit across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl - Annabeth - who'd spoonfed me the popcorn-flavored pudding is leaning against the porch rail next to them.

I study the blond girl for a moment, and, as if she felt my eyes on her, she looks at me, amused. I feel my cheeks darken a little, and I turn to study the two other men.

The man facing me is small, but porky. He has a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black that it's almost purple. He looks like those paintings of baby angels - cherubs. He wears a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he could've fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I get the feeling that this guy could've out-gambled even my stepfather.

"That's Mr. D," Grover mutters to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And that's Chiron." He points at the guy whose back is to me.

I recognize the tweek jacket, the thinning brown hair, and the scraggly beard that Percy had described to me.

"I suppose you must be my brother's Latin teacher?" I ask, and the man turns to me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It seemed like the glint a teacher might have when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers the same letter. Through the mischievous glint, I catch the pain and grief in his eyes.

"Ah, good, (Y/n)," Mr. Brunner says, and I catch Annabeth studying me, as if she herself had felt the pang of grief that had pierced my heart when I'd mentioned my brother. "Now we have four for pinochle."

Mr. Brunner offers me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looks at me with bloodshot eyes and heaves a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"Uh, thanks," I reply. I scoot a little farther away from him because if there was one think I'd learned from my stepfather, it's now to tell when an adult had been hitting alcohol.

"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner calls to the blond girl.

Annabeth steps forward and Mr. Brunner introduces us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on (Y/n)'s bunk? We'll be putting her in Cabin Eleven for now."

Annabeth replies, "Sure, Chiron."

Annabeth looks probably my age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly hair, she is almost exactly what I think a stereotypical California girl would look like, but her eyes ruined the image. They are startling gray, like stormy clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she is analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

Annabeth glances at the Minotaur horn in my hands, then back at me. Then she says, "You drool in your sleep."

Then she sprints off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.

"So," I say, anxious to change the subject. "You, uh, work here too, Mr. Brunner?"

"Not Mr. Brunner," the ex–Mr. Brunner corrects. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Okay." Slightly confused, I look at teh director. "And Mr. D, sir . . ." I pause. "I suppose that stands for something as well?"

Mr. D stops shuffling the cards, studying me as if I'd surprised him. "Yes, it does stand for something. But you don't go around using them for no reason."

"Right. Sorry, sir," I reply, and Mr. D looks at me again for a moment. I pause for another minute. "Chiron, sir. What is this place? What am I doing here?"

Grover, who had sat down at the card table, flinches every time a card lands in his pile.

Chiron smiles sympathetically at me.

"(Y/n)," he says. "Did your mother tell you nothing?" he asks.

"She said . . ." I remember, with a pang, Mom's sad eyes looking out over the sea. "She told me that she was afraid to send me here, even though ou - even though my father had warned her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D says. "That's usually how they get killed." I flinch. "Young girl, are you bidding or not?"

"What?" I ask politely.

He explains how you bid in pinochle, and so I do.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron says. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Orientation film?" I question.

"No," Chiron decides. "You know that Grover is a satyr. You know" - Chiron points to the horn in the shoe box - "that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either, my dear. What you may not know is that great powersat work in your life. Gods - the forces you call the Greek gods - are very much alive."

I take a moment to think about the former Latin teacher's words.

"I suppose that makes sense," I reply hesitantly.

Chiron looks at me expectantly. "Percy always said you were smart, (Y/n)," the man says with a glimmer of appreciation. "What else do you know?" he asks.

"Well," I think for a moment. "I suppose that, if it is true, then the gods would move with western civilization.

Mr. D looks at me and sweeps into the farmhouse, Grover trailing behind him.

"Is there a palace on Mount Olympus?" I ask Chiron.

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, (Y/n)."

I shift slightly in my seat. "Who am I, Chiron?" I ask. I pause, "Who are you?" I add hastily, " If you don't mind answering."

Chiron smiles gently. He shifts his weight as if he was going to get out of his wheelchair.

"Who are you?" he muses. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it?" But for now, we should get you a bunk in Cabin Eleven. There will be new friends to meet, and plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

Then, Chiron does rise from his wheelchair, but there is something odd about the way he does it. His blanket falls away from his legs, but the legs don't move. His waist keeps getting longer, rising above the belt. At first, I wonder if he was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he keeps rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realize that the underwear isn't underwear; it is the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair isn't a chair, it's a box, and it must've been magic, because there was no way that a wheelchair could have contained all of him. A leg comes out, long and knobbly-kneed, with a polished hoof. Then another leg, then hindquarters, and then the box is empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached.

I stare at the horse that had just sprung from the wheelchair; a huge white stallion. Where the horse's neck should be, the upper body of the teacher is smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.

"What a relief," the centaur says, stretching. "I'd been cooped up in there for so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, (Y/n) Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."

Word Count: 2532 words

[ao3writers-pls-love-me]

Solangelo/Nico di Angelo headcanon (being needy with friends and family and Will Solace)

i like to think that loved ones sometimes brings back the past-nico out of nico. like he gets cuddly and needy and annoy-ie around his precious people.

yeah...nico being grumpy and pretending he doesnt like hugs but he actually does and sometimes he conflicted abt it but he still really really like physical touch from the people he loves and adores bc it makes him felt save–

afshdjjjw no. hes just openly show u hes a touchy guy.

in my headcanon hes just very chill with it when he gets along well with u. if he likes u a lot, like, a whole lot, families brothers sisters will solace level, he will cling, onto you, like a koala, legit going to die if he lets u go.

imagine will, hasnt dated nico yet at that point, only very good friends, hugs him suddenly out of nowhere bc he thinks it will make nico surprised and be blushy and shy and angry and stuff, but actually, nico just, giggles (will had no idea he is capable of that), leans more into his arms and allows himself to be fulled with warmth and affection, forever.

hazel too, when nico being sad and not wanting ppl to be worried about him, shes just angrily sighs and gives him the biggest hug, telling him, whether he liked or not, everyone will always be worried about him, they wanted to make him happy, loved, adored, comfy, warm and deserved and belonged and loved. AND most importantly, being with him when he needed. so he should never be sad abt it. but the thing is, hazel honey, he already feels ok and swell the moment u hugged him. saying those emotional and heartfelt things just make him all sad and teary again. its worsen.

reyna the exception, knows this and she takes full advantage of it. whenever she and nico debate about something, idk kfc being superior than mcdonald ig and they get heated, nico about to drop his sword, his face is dark with rages, veins popping off on his neck, hands gripping so hard it could bleed any second—so reyna, power walk over him, with the same amount of anger and aggressively- embrace him. surprise surprise, it works, really well. ALL of nico's angers went out like wet sands dunk on small flashes of fire, they set out for pizza after that, with an embarrassed nico and amused reyna.

jason does this too sometimes, when he gets bored and wanna hangout with someone, aside from piper or leo of course. so nico, having will's disney and rom-com movies ready, with lots of snacks, pillows, blankets, never forget hugs as he quickly melts into jason's side and enjoying their boys night. they waked up with tense shoulders and hurted spine but hugged it out and everything's all ok.

again with will, but now, officially a (very cute) couple. to will, nico cuddles and snuggles with him a lot, like a LOT, but, its a little...different.

you see will, in the infirmary, talking, giving instructions, doing his job then boom–its hugging hours, u see nico clinging on his back like a life support.

you see will, in the training area, giving good archery advices for his siblings and other campers, shot a bird instead of the target, snap a bone back into place, the usual, then mother of percy–well would u look at that! snuggy cuddy huggy willy time! and nico literally materialized out of nowhere, running like a mad man and do the smoothest back flip right into will's front body, almost break his back in half, but will, despite the pain, hugs him back nonetheless.

you see will, scared of something, pointing a scapel at the shadow, waiting for something to pop out of it, then sighs, feeling ridiculous to himself, but it doesnt end there of course, a noise catches his heart, will tensed up immediately, shivering, dropping, a loud metal sound echos and when he looks back at his hand, he held no more the weapon that keep him safe. thats right...u guess it!–its cuddlinggggg timeeeee! and will being the terrified lil golden retriever he is, try to hide and run away but the predator caught up to him so quick he couldnt even blink. then what happened? eh nothing really, he gets choke–smother with loves and nico, thats just—yeah, call his siblings annabeth, red alert.

you see will, tired, kinda looked like hes accepting his fate now, with opened arms and closed eyes, hes just gave out his last prayer to his dad, figures it wouldnt do shit and the clock ticks and will flinches. ah...always on time i see nico? literally, zero point one second later, a dark humanoid ball flying into wills arms and you can hear cracks so loud it makes u hisses and cringes. but will, amazing man he is, smiles the most sunny shiny smiles he has and hugs that dark humanoid ball with everything dear to him. ignore the tears

[samrieimg]

I'm shook by your reading habits. Not in a bad way, just surprised you don't really read Wilbur/Schlatt or Wilbur/Quackity. Majority of Dre/grge in makes me cringe bc they make them both OOC. Sounds stupid of me to say because all fanfics shoehorn their personalities in some way. I usually stick to Wilbur stories. I think when I gave a chance to your DNF series, it was the only enjoyable portrayal out there. What sort of DNF stories/tags do you enjoy? Are you disappointed by the offerings out there?

Oh yeah, I'm disappointed a lot. I'm picky.

Special interest rant below >:). Long af.

Color code for sections.

How i read fanfic

Manhunt D/NF

C!DN/F

XDN/F

......How I read fanfic......

What I do is go through a tag, choose random filters based on the day, search by bookmarks then go through 8 pages, opening fics in a new tab I might read. Then, go through what I collect and see if I'm hooked. Usually out of 15 fics chosen I'll find 1 or 2 I'm like "hey, this was pretty okay." Rarely ill find something I'm like "gonna subscribe and camp this."

Manhunt D/NF

I do love DN/F Whump. If no one is hurt, it's hardly as fun.

I'm not going to lie, Manhunt!Dreem is my favorite. I really love him being a scary, but still funny and morally grey wisecracking man, but finding a fic where they don't make George a woman in a George disguise is hard. Why did you castrate him? Where is his feral energy, rude tone and the fact he's a 25yo man, writers?! If an author doesn't let George sound just as dumb as Spnap and half as cocky, I click off. The amount of authors writing themselves as George is unreal.

DSM/P Verse C!D/NF

I love XDN/F and love c!D/NF, but can't ever find fics I like of either.

So, with c!DN/F, I really search for a fic honestly written by what the fandom terms "apologist", but also, it can't defang him. Dre has to be bloodthirsty, but likable and charismatic. He needs to care, but do an awful job showing it. He has to be full of character!

But whenever I find fics that nail him, they fail at Gog or vice versa. Half the time I see "Gogy fixes him :)" No, Gogy does not fix him. Gogy is also just as messed up.

There is not an ounce of c!Gogy lore I've seen that would make me think he's not going to kill someone too. Have we all been watching the same man? He kidnapped Michael with Surpnurp and that was the funniest shit ever and the fact it got retconned I'm so sad about. C!Gogy is a nightmare. He's batshit, he's unhinged, he likes chaos. He's cold and standoffish to everyone outside his friends and a gremlin. But he also cares so much. Underneath that he's caring in odd small ways. He's going to steal your flower garden and then come back with a sandwich, hand you half, and then tell you a story about a cat he saw in the woods. He's lazy and a coward, yet cocksure and a persistent stubborn ass when he wants to be.

Yet fics write him like a victorian woman pining at the window for their love. Locked in a prison. How sad. He's going to criticize c!Dre for his wrongs? No. He's going to criticize c!Dre for not getting him armor and helping him and dethroned him and not giving him attention.

A fic I crave is a villainous c!Q (that's still sympathetic, and clearly written morally grey) killing c!Gogy. I want c!Q to taunt c!Dre. I want c!Q's obsession with power to push past his obvious love for his friends and I want there to be casualties. I want c!Gogy to be a price. I want his blood.

XD/NF Ramble

Now XDN/F. Oh man. My old writing long before DSM/P was in a fandom with Greek-like gods and I found myself pouring hours, and hours, and hours into researching religions as a teen. I came away with so many stories of gods who always were too inhuman, too powerful. Even out of love humans were hurt. Like many kids, I'd read Percy Jackson, but I saw a world of possibilities. I saw stories of humans falling in love with gods ending tragically.

But I haven't EVER dropped my obsession with stories of gods' and their human followers. I am so deeply in love with the concept.

But I fell in love with XD/NF because it was what I'd wanted, and honestly, George's lore eps are a HELL of a lot like the old media. You have to make sense of what's canon and not yourself and it's such what I wanted.

But...one AO3s filtering is limited by what people tag, and XD/NF isn't separated from D/NF in searches. And the fandom largely discards c!Gogy...just like they did for well...my old blorbo.

But anyway. I do actually have a super vested love for DN/F. Mostly AU fantasy verses, but I've read that one popular more RPF-esque one.

But the fandom lets me down ;-;. Mostly how they wrote Gogy.

[lumosinlove]

Between Fifth And You

AO3

chapter two

~

It’s Saturday night for Manhattan’s elite, and we know what that means. The Noble House of Black beckons, and one particularly family seems to be a little behind on preparations—at least, their youngest son is.

Spotted—Logan Tremblay, looking hot in nothing but basketball shorts. Better soak up that fading blue August heat while you can, Lo. Or are you more interested in something a little more…fiery? But in the LES? Why so far from home, Dorothy? Eye color isn’t the only thing green about the Tremblay family. And they have a bad habit of sorting everything out with a little help from Ben Franklin.

“Shoot, shoot!”

Logan pivoted on his heel and was able to toss the ball around his opponent’s shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of red hair as Finn caught it with ease and jumped it up to the rim.

Finn O’Hara. One of these days Logan was going to step on his own shoes watching Finn O’Hara. His pale chest looked like sugar dusting, his exertion-red cheeks the goddamn cherry.

“Point moo-oi!” Finn shouted, slapping Will Morgan and Percy Marshall on their bare backs. “That’s how you say it, right, Tremblay?”

Logan feigned a shudder. “Non.”

“Shorty’s got game,” Will laughed, sweat dripping down his dark brown skin, darkening the leather bracelets he wore.

Percy shook his head, swallowing over a caught-breath, his silver Star of David swinging at his throat. “Shorty must be cheating with his Upper Side shoes.”

Logan just narrowed his eyes and laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re just tall. Doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mazel tov, you fucker.”

“I’m finally winning,” Finn grinned. “And now I gotta get back to the shop. I said be back in five…pretty sure it’s been fifty-five.”

Logan swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll walk you.”

Percy slapped him on the back as they left, and Finn held the cage door of the basketball court open for him.

“So, you’re back at school?” Finn asked as he pulled his shirt on. Logan nodded, following suit, picking at the neck where it stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I’m supposed to be getting fitted for a suit right now.”

Finn snorted. “What does that have to do with school?”

“Oh,” the corner of Logan’s mouth raised as he realized. “Nothing, I…well, you know. The social scene. It sort of all feels like one thing, up there.”

Finn pouted at him. “Poor baby. Too many parties.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan laughed.

“Hey, feel like lunch?”

“I thought you had to be back.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Logan bit his lip, wondering how many different ways his older sisters could actually kill him. Honestly, he thought he’d just die on the spot of he passed up the change to be squeezed into one of the small restaurants that Finn frequented. Screw the grand tables of his life. Logan wanted cracked leather booths small enough to let their ankles brush. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

Finn didn’t disappoint. They walked down the shade of Mott street, then turned at a bakeshop on the corner. Finn pointed at it.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Logan raised a shoulder. “I don’t get down here much.”

Finn snorted. “Listen to you. Down here. You’re down here enough to pop into my bookstore all the time.”

Logan studied the cakes in the windows, biting his lip when he realized Finn’s eyes were still on him in the reflection. “I…yeah.”

Finn flicked the bill of Logan’s hat which shaded the back of his neck. “How’s that latest book you bought?”

Logan turned away from the window to get them walking again, not sure where they were going but trusting Finn to lead. “I’m starting school, man, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finn just laughed. “Come on, let’s catch the 6.”

Logan found himself squeezed into a tiny French restaurant in the West Village that served them even tinier croissants.

“I know the chef,” Finn said popping one he had spread jam and butter on into his mouth. “Dumo. Don’t pay a cent. I fucking love these things.”

Logan would have bought Finn a thousand of the tiny pastries without a blink just to see him lick a bit of jam from his thumb again.

“Dumo doesn’t sound very French…” Logan began cutting up his waffle.

Finn laughed. “Pascal Dumais does.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Logan glanced at a woman and her baby, who had started crying. He tried to think of something to say. For someone who’s job seemed to be making small talk at various parties and charming people with his accent—or so his mother sometimes said—he sure was horrible at it.

“So, what’s the suit for?” Finn asked, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“A fashion show,” Logan sighed, hiding his surprise—and maybe delight—at Finn’s unknowing shrug. “It’s…sort of a lot. Lots of people and cameras. And I always have to wear something green.”

Finn hummed in understanding. “It’s the eyes, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “A lot of fast English, too.”

Finn tilted his head. “I didn’t know that was hard for you. You’re perfect.”

Logan tried not to flush and covered it with a shrug. “I lived in France until I was fifteen before we finally moved to my dad. It’s still nice to be able to read lips sometimes. With the flashes and they make it super dark…I don’t know.”

“No, that makes sense,” Finn said, brown eyes soft. He smiled. “Hey, well, if you don’t want to go to the fitting, come man the shop with me. I’d love the company.”

Logan looked at him and ached, but saw his older sister Noelle’s pleading, excited expression in his mind. He might not love the scene, but he loved his sisters. “I wish I could. Really.”

They finished up their food and Logan had to admit that he lingered over his coffee until Finn said he absolutely had to leave.

“Hey, Tremblay,” Finn called from down the sidewalk, and Logan turned in the full knowledge that seeing the smile Finn sent him would only make him want to stay more.

The dutiful son wants the bookshop boy…I don’t know, Lo. How will their royal highnesses feel about that?

“Come buy more books you don’t read soon, okay?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “D’accord.”

Finn walked backwards a few steps, yelling, “And bring me something green!” before turning and jogging down the subway stairs.

Logan laughed as he called his driver to him, escaping the heat for air conditioned leather.

XOXO

Pearls or diamonds, Upper Siders? Armani or Ralph? What, like you have other questions tonight?

Well, I have one for you. A tip from a friendly scroller gave me a peak at tonight’s guest list. Do you think we’re in for more than just a showdown on the runway? Cat fights over cat walks is what I always say.

XOXO.

[Image description: Two name cards reading, from left to right, Leo Knut and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Sebastian Montague]

Remus found Julian already dressed and tapping at a game on his phone when he descended the winding staircase of their penthouse.

“You waiting for mom and dad?” Remus said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“And you,” Julian said.

“Right, right,” Remus smoothed his black tuxedo, trying to ignore the subtle glint of blue-silver embroidered into the black velvet. His mother was a planner—which Remus liked usually—but this design had not aged well. This suit had a twin that it no longer belonged with. Remus clenched his jaw as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d hoped wearing it would feel like defiance.

But it only felt like he was lonely. He gave his head a hard shake. He had Leo. He couldn’t let New York throw him.

“Gossip Girl’s going crazy. Of course,” Julian said.

“Jules, you shouldn’t read that stuff,” Remus sighed. “It’s just gossip—”

“Just posted about Sirius,” Julian murmured.

Remus huffed, pushing his hair out of its too neat style in the mirror. “So?”

Julian shrugged, but pointedly looked away when Remus took out his own phone.

The photo looked like one from the paparazzi, but the sight of Sirius on the red carpet made Remus’ throat close up.

I spy a statement piece. Or maybe it’s just a statement. Sirius Black arrives on the red carpet—or should I say black carpet—with none other than New York’s favorite icon, in worship and fashion alike. The Saint of these streets is looking particularly dashing tonight, hand in hand with the heir of this city. Ouch, Re. Looks like you’ve been dethroned.

Remus stared down at the screen, neck hot. Sirius’ suit sleeves had the barely there leather half moon cut-outs that Remus remembered tracing onto his skin.

Sirius had smiled into their kiss. Think anyone will notice?

Remus had just laughed. Everyone will notice.

But there was Saint, a crown of moonstones in his golden hair.

Remus looked down at his own suit. Of course Saint had thought of a way they’d match, that was all it was, but it still felt like a snub.

“I sort of miss him,” Julian said quietly.

Remus’ heart pulled. He swallowed and clicked his phone off. He looked at Julian, who looked almost sheepish.

“Do you?” Julian asked even more quietly.

“Don’t you like Leo?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Julian nodded quickly. “But…”

“Remus,” Hope smiled, coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with their father. “Jules. Ready, boys?”

Remus didn’t think saying no was an option. He cleared his throat, pushed his hair back.

“Almost,” he said, backtracking towards the stairs. “Just a second. Gotta call Leo, make sure he hasn’t left yet.”

XOXO

“We can watch a livestream of the red carpet and the show,” Natalie said. “Sit.”

Finn groaned, squished beside Natalie on her tiny sofa. “That feels like I’m stalking him.”

“We’re allowed to stalk the boys we like.”

“You’re dating my brother, Nat. Does this mean you stalked him?”

“It really does,” Alex said, coming in from the kitchen with their margaritas and dropping a kiss to Natalie’s temple.

“Hm,” Natalie smiled up at him, accepting a kiss to her lips. “Scruffy.”

Finn sighed and pulled a knee up to his chest, watching the loading video Natalie had pulled up.

“Your wifi sucks,” he mumbled.

“It’ll load,” Natalie scooted over for Alex and passed Finn his drink.

“Salsa, too,” Finn said, waving it over.

Finally, the video popped up to a view of the red carpet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Natalie laughed. “It’s fashion!”

“Look,” Alex sighed. “I know they’re wealthy and it’s suppose to be all, I don’t know sandy beaches and wristwatches, but not a single one of these people look remotely happy. Like take a look at this guy—“

Finn looked over the sandy-haired man posing in front of the cameras—well, not posing, really. Kasey Winter, the commentators were saying.

“Nice hair,” Natalie crunched on a chip. “And listen to that, his mother’s one of the biggest producers at Weird Sisters Records.”

“Fine, but he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. I mean, anyone else think its kind of fucked up that the New York families go to a New York university where New York businesses draw from New York’s elite?”

“Yes,” Finn and Natalie said in unison.

And then there was Logan.

Finn let out an embarrassing sound and set his drink down, leaning forward.

Logan walked out in front of the cameras with three girls—his sisters, Finn remembered. Not to mention he followed all of them on Instagram. They had a lot of shoes, sure, but they seemed all right.

“I saw this thing on Gossip Girl about one of the sisters,” Natalie said. “She—”

“Nat, why the hell do you read that?”

Natalie shot him a look. “Like you don’t.”

Finn ignored them, too focused on the dark, nearly black, velvety green cape—or was it cloak?—that covered Logan’s shoulders down to above his elbows, falling to an elegant point at the small of his back over his black suit. The sisters had a similar get-up in one way or another—a green train, a shawl, a corset. Logan’s clasp was a silver fleur-de-lis.

“Green,” Finn breathed.

“What?” Alex asked.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek at Logan’s expression. It was meant to be blank, Finn thought, at-ease and untouchable, but it came off almost enticing. His dark eyelashes swept against his cheeks. Finn watched his throat bob around a swallow, his adored eyes shifting from flash to flash.

“Nothing,” Finn answered his brother.

“How’d you meet this kid anyway, Fish?” his brother asked.

“I was closing up shop about a month ago,” Finn said. “And he stopped at one of our windows. Looked like he’d run the entire island, he was breathing so hard. Not to mention it was pouring like nothing else. Thought he was gonna pass out, so I unlocked the door and let him in to get dry. I don’t know, he was kind of shy at first. Listened to me talk for about an hour before he started giving anything back.” Finn shrugged, watching Logan walk off screen. “I invite him to play basketball with me, Morg, and Percy now. We get lunch after sometimes.”

Natalie sighed. “He looked like one unhappy camper.”

“I think his family puts a lot of pressure on him. He’s the baby. Only son. All that bullshit.”

“I kind of want that cape,” Natalie said.

Alex sighed. “That’s the idea.”

Natalie slapped his chest, then kissed his cheek, and Finn watched Logan walk off-screen.

XOXO

“What say you, Capulet?”

Sirius looked down at Saint at his shoulder. “They’re out of crab puffs.”

“Boo,” Saint said. “You still closing the show?”

“Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you be in hair and makeup?”

“Yep.”

Saint stepped in front of him, the gold band of moonstones nestled in his curls glinting in the dark stage lights. “Looking for someone?”

Sirius just reached out and ran a gentle thumbnail beneath where Saint’s golden eyeliner had smudged against his brown skin, striking it back to a point. “Nope. See you after the show.”

Saint clucked his tongue. “I’m unimpressed.”

“What else is new?” Sirius said.

Saint went to smile, when his eyes flickered behind Sirius and he raised his eyebrows. “That.”

Sirius turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. The cameras were going wild, and in front of all the flashing lights was Remus, hand-in-hand with Leo Knut.

“They make a sunshine pair,” Saint said from beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

Sirius touched two fingers to one of the black-leather moons on his jacket sleeve. They were meant to go with Remus’ stars. He remembered planning for them. He’d thought…part of him had thought if he’d worn them tonight—

“Cloudy sky,” he replied to Saint.

“I was gonna say dappled sunlight in…” Saint glanced around. “A dark forest.”

Remus and Leo were wearing dress shirts, collars rumpled and unbuttoned at their throats, each in a smooth shade of cream. Their hands, decked out in golden rings, were laced together, and they both wore pale gray slacks, slim cut, and laceless nikes.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…hmm, but don’t I spy some burning jealous?

“What are we going for here,” Saint raised an eyebrow. “Left in a hurry and didn’t get the dress code?”

“We’re going against me,” Sirius replied, slipping his hands into his pockets and trying to stand straight. “That’s all.”

“Sunlight in a dark forest, indeed.”

Sirius watched them looking out over the flashes, and tried not to look surprised when golden eyes met his own. Remus’ expression didn’t change either. Instead, he simply blinked, then looked away. Leo, tall and lean, leaned into his ear, and Remus smiled. The cameras popped like champagne.

I love right here, Sirius remembered his own voice, the feeling of the soft skin by Remus’ eye beneath his thumb. I love right here when you smile.

“I need to get backstage,” Sirius said shortly, and turned on his heel.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t I know,” Sirius called as he weaved his way through the crowd, heading backstage. The woman with a radio in her ear looked annoyed and nervous when he slipped past her, and radioed that he had arrived to whoever it was that needed to know.

“Sirius!” Alice called, hands full of makeup brushes and up in the air. “Jesus Christ, do you think I have all fucking night?”

Sirius shrugged out of his red carpet jacket—which someone took—and slid into her chair. “Sorry, Al.”

She twirled a protective cape around his shoulders, snapping it at the base of his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. But then again, I think everyone’s pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes, letting her begin. “People are.”

Alice had just finished contour when Sirius all but felt his mother’s presence. A shift in the air. A cooler wind. People standing up straighter and shivering.  

“Sirius,” his mother’s face appeared in the mirror. Her red lipstick was the brightest thing about her, and even that was almost mauve. Her dress was tight around her breasts, but cascaded in thick waves of velvet behind her, and she wore tall leather boots. It almost looked like armor. “You’re very late, darling.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “Saint and I got caught up in the crowd, I guess.”

She hummed. “You two looked fetching out there. He’s much more pleasing than that other boy ever was. His family is important, too.”

It was true, that his mother had never liked Remus much. Though, Sirius couldn’t compare him and Saint. They were two different oceans.

“Get dressed,” his mother breathed, and was already snapping her fingers at one of the other models before Sirius could say another word.

“All right?” Alice asked him quietly.

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. Her contour made his face look almost gaunt, as was the general makeup for all of the models, and he knew he’d be given dark eye makeup next, his hair fluffed into perfect curls.

“Fine,” Sirius said, and closed his eyes to let her work.

Sirius was shrugging into his given outfit—a billowing longcoat, 20th century in fashion, and a longer tunic made almost entirely of the thinnest black silk. It would shimmer when he walked, he knew, and his tall, lace-up boots, the flat sole so thin and delicate that he almost felt barefoot, would disappear beneath the shimmer. His mother was cold, stubborn, and cruel sometimes, an unfeeling, yawning sort of dark, but she was talented.

“Lord Vader,” came a voice from behind him, and Sirius laughed even before he turned to face Thomas Walker.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius said, and they clasped hands, pulling them into a one-armed hug. “You look fantastic, though.”

Thomas spun slowly on his heel, letting the long, loose fitting white linen of his button-down—which went out in two, tuxedo-like tails at his back—flare out above his slim, black trousers. He wore a thin scarf of distressed wool.

“Like a fallen gentleman, no?” Thomas grinned. “I might try and steal these pants. And maybe the shirt for Noelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius smiled, spying Noelle’s green eyes behind his shoulder. “She’ll love that.”

Noelle wrapped her arms, which were draped in a transparent green cloth, around Thomas’ waist. “Thanks for thinking of me, T baby.”

Thomas laughed in surprise. “Who let you back stage?”

“I’m a Tremblay, they’ll let us in anywhere.”

Thomas turned his head to capture Noelle in a soft kiss.

“See you after, hm?” Noelle said. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friend, she’s walking tonight, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll ride to Honeyduke’s together.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow at him. “You coming, Black?”

“Saint all but owns the place,” Sirius said. “Of course I am.”

Sirius walked. He didn’t look down, or hear the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, to be up here, not able to see past the lights—but something tonight was different. It felt as it had the night of his and Remus’ first kiss.

In that show, he had had one, thin line of black lipstick traced over the center of his bottom lip. It had marked Remus’ throat and cheeks like soot by the end of it all.

Remus had been waiting for him back stage.

“Come here,” Remus had whispered, and laced their fingers together.

“Where?” Sirius had answered, surprised by their palms pressing together.

But it hadn’t been a place. Remus had pressed them back in between clothing racks, and crashed their mouths together.

Here, Remus had whispered, and kissed him again.

Sirius felt the absence of the stage lights like a wash of cold air, and he stretched out his back, letting his stony face drop a little. He glanced around, but there was no one to be found. His cheeks were warm just thinking about it.

“Good,” his mother said as he passed her by to take off the makeup, and that was all.

XOXO

Saint looked across Honeyduke’s and felt like it was his. Logan was laughing with Thomas and Noelle, and he had Kasey Winter beside him, securing tickets to one of their favorite bands to see together.

“Done,” Kasey said, and flashed one of his rare smiles.

“I knew you were my favorite,” Saint took a sip of his drink, and Kasey scoffed.

“Me or my mom?”

“Maybe a little of both. Oh, and we’re going to sushi beforehand.”

Kasey’s smile was larger now. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. You gonna leave with that drummer again? What’s her name?”

Saint smiled. “Oh, Sally. And I make it a habit to always leave with the drummer.”

Kasey just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a drink and leaving you to your one-liners.”

Saint watched him go, feeling settled, and set about scanning the room for Sirius. He was sure he’d know if he was there—people tended to swarm to Sirius, even if he didn’t ask for it. It was part of the reason they were so close. People flocked to Saint, too. So, they asked for each other’s company. A more intimate, calm part of life. Sirius was quiet. Saint wasn’t, but he let Saint , for a moment, be that way, too. Saint was loud. Sirius wasn’t, but Saint had his ways to fire him up.

“Another drink, sir?”

Saint looked over his shoulder, only to turn all the way around, interest peaked. The bartender had sandy hair, and a strong jaw, his cheeks textured by acne scars in some places. He had brown eyes—save for a sliver of green in one.

“Only if you have one with me,” Saint said, and glanced down at his name-tag. “Luke.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, pressing the heels of his palms onto the bar between them, revealing rolled up sleeves and some type of vine tattoo, wrapping all around both of his forearms.

“I’m working, sir.”

“Is that a later?” he nodded at the tattoo. “Nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke said.

“Oh, no?”

Luke scowled—how did he look so handsome doing that?

“Do you make it a habit to go home with all the waiters, too?”

Saint didn’t let his expression flicker, just smiled nice and slow.

“Hillrock,” Saint said. “Neat.”

The barkeep turned away.

Ouch. Looks like not everyone worships at your alter, Saint.

XOXO

The elevator doors opened, revealing the party to Sirius one outfit after the next. He had changed for the afterparty—the first of three. He wore a tight, thin black t-shirt and dark jeans. He hadn’t bothered to wash off the dark, smudged eyeliner from the show. His combat boots went up to just below his knee, and had the same nearly naked feeling sole. It made him feel soundless, like a shadow.

Maybe that’s why it was easy to find Remus and stand beside him without him stirring.

“You’re a little underdressed,” Sirius said without looking at him.

“Says the boy wearing a t-shirt,” Remus replied evenly.

Sirius scowled. “I meant at the show.”

“People like to be surprised,” Remus replied evenly.

“Who’s Leo?”

“My boyfriend.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Remus matched him. They were nearly chest to chest. “You didn’t say a word to me in class.”

“You didn’t—“

“I had the last word,” Remus snapped. “I figured maybe you’d finally have something to say back.”

Sirius stared at him, heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he let himself look. At the golden eyes, hair more blond than ever from the summer’s sun. Sirius couldn’t stand that mouth set in a frown.

“Guess not,” Remus said softly, lips dropping open in the way they used to before they kissed.

Sirius all but felt him vanish into the writhing crowd.

XOXO

Finn looked up when a flash of color on the morning-silent street outside caught his eye. He set the books he was holding down, took the pen out from between his teeth.

Green.

“What the hell?” Finn laughed as he pulled open the door to his bookshop to find Logan standing there. “It’s five in the fucking morning, what are you doing here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Never did,” Logan said, and that’s when Finn saw that Logan was still in his suit from the livestream.

“Ah, I see,” Finn said, eyes flicking up and down his broad form. He swallowed dryly. “The nature of afterparties, I suppose. Well, you—you look good. For someone who’s been up all night, I mean.”

Logan just smiled, one of his small, secretive ones. Finn watched as he stepped forward so they were almost toe to toe in the doorway.

“Wh…” Finn’s voice dropped off with a breathless laugh. He couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth. His full lips that could speak a language Finn couldn’t even begin to describe.

Logan just reached up to the base of his own throat and unclipped the fleur-de-lis clasp there. In one smooth swoop, he drew his short cloak from his shoulders and around Finn’s, right over his worn gray t-shirt, clicking it in place. The fabric brought a gentle scent, and he figured it must be Logan’s cologne.

“Something green,” Logan said softly. A warm, early morning breeze ruffled his hair, pushing the curls forward. Finn couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

“Inventory,” Finn whispered, then cleared his throat. “Inventory.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll help.”

[zazzander]

Jason Grace and Octavian, pt 5 / final

Healing the Gods

Of course, there is another parallel between Jason and Octavian – the rank of Pontifex Maximus. While Reyna is criticising Octavian for taking on the role, Jason is being proclaimed it. Interestingly, once again Octavian looks to gain power and is shamed by the characters around him; once again, Jason is handed this power and it is celebrated as something noble.

First, Octavian

Ignoring the murder part of this plan, one of Octavian's goals in Blood of Olympus (and perhaps long before) was to heal the gods. To fix the break that causes them to be divided, to fight themselves. He wants to restore them to full power. But I've spoken about Octavian's intent at length before. So this post is mostly being to talk about Jason.

And then, Jason

Going all the way back to the Lost Hero, we have Jason’s comment:

“So you believe those gods still exist?”

“Yes,” Jason said immediately. “I mean, I don’t think we should worship them or sacrifice chickens to them or anything, but they’re still around because they’re a powerful part of civilisation. They move from country to country as the centre of power shifted – like they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome.” [Lost Hero 90]

Not example the words of someone who would later become a priest. But Jason changes during Blood of Olympus.

“I can change that,” he promised. “I will personally arrange a shrine for you on Temple Hill in New Rome. Your first ever Roman shrine! I’ll raise one at Camp Half-Blood as well, right on the shore of Long Island Sound. Imagine, being honoured–”

“And feared.”

“– and feared by both Greeks and Romans. You’ll be famous!”

He offers this in the heat of battle, as a means of turning Kymopoleia, the minor goddess, back to their side against the giants.

After the fight, Jason says,

“I will,” Jason said. “When we win this war, I’m going to make sure all the gods get recognised.” […] “Which is why I’m going to finish the job.” Jason didn’t know where these words were coming from, but the idea fight absolutely right. “I’ll make sure none of the gods are forgotten at either camp. Maybe they’ll get temple, or cabins, or at least shrines.”

As they part, Kym says,

“But, if you win, remember your promise, Pontifex.”

Jason took a moment to process her words. “I’m not a priest.”

“No?” Kym’s white eyes gleamed.

And Jason offers his own explanation to Percy,

“Roman used to have a Pontifex Maximus, who oversaw all the proper sacrifices and whatnot, to make sure none of the gods got made. Which I offered to do… I guess it does sound like a pontifex’s job.”

Jason is setting himself up as Octavian’s successor, even if he doesn't fully realise taht.

Octavian was the sole priest of the, seemingly for a long time. And Jason certainly hadn’t considered helping him in the past.

But as Octavian’s death approaches, Jason is prepping to take over.

Again, it’s interesting how their goals align; and so too does their path.

“I heard. The Senate plans to elect you Pontifex Maximus.”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t care about the title so much. I do care about making sure the gods are remembered.”

One thing this entire narrative has been insistent upon is that trying to gain power is wrong. But being handed it on a golden platter? Morally correct. Ambition is wrong, apparently.

But its such a luxury for Jason to be like "yeah I don't care" because anyone else would struggle to fulfil his promises without that title. Hell, even with that title, they might struggle. Octavian certainly did. The moment Reyna returned all bets were off. Everyone switched allegiance.

Jason Drops the Façade

The whole of Long Island Sound spread out to the horizon. They were so far up, and at such an angle that nobody below could possibly see them. The patrol harpies never flew this high. […] “But aren’t you going to get in trouble?”

“Who cares?” Jason asked.

Piper laughed quietly. “Who are you?”

He turned, his glasses place bronze in starlight. “Jason Grace. Please to meet you.”

As we see Jason recreate the memory of their first kiss. In a poetic way, Jason has become the person Hera knew he could be. For all the flack she gets, Hera really did know him best.

Ironically, Jason is now the person that could have been good friends with Octavian. Someone ready to break some rules. Someone who realises the nature of the gods and wants to fix things. Someone who wishes to make Rome a little more Greek.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[the-ghost-king]

So I'm not going to start like an Anti-Chiron tag because I don't find that enjoyable personally, but every so often people ask why I dislike him so here's essentially a "masterpost" of my thoughts on that situation for when anyone asks, just so I have it to explain some...

This isn't nearly a full list, and there's many more "incidents" that make me less than fond of Chiron, I don't hate the old man but he leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I'm not a fan of that. He's a very twisted character.

- The Lightning Thief

This quote is literally just after Percy's mom "dies", they're all sitting on the porch of the Big House right after he's finally woken up after days of sleeping, and that's the line Chiron pulls out on him.

That's straight up emotional manipulation which was entirely unnecessary in the context of what Chiron was trying to explain. There wasn't a single reason for that, in the slightest.

Immediately following that, and Percy, who canonically has anger issues, does his best to remain calm, he is immediately threatened by Dionysus, and Chiron doesn't even tell Dionysus off for doing that; Chiron just let's it happen. It's Grover who has to speak up to tell Dionysus off...

The only reason Chiron comes out looking like a old guy in this scene is because Dionysus was so much worse in his behavior, at one point intimidating Percy with his power over madness.

- The Titan's Curse

This is the aftermath of when Nico ran away upon confirmation of Bianca's death. When Percy is telling Chiron about the situation, Chiron wishes Nico had been eaten alive rather than recruited into an army.

He'd rather a child be dead than fight against him, and he openly tells this to other children he's in charge of. If Percy went missing would he have said "I hope he was eaten <3" as well?

I don't blame Perry for not delivering the truth here, it was done in an effort to protect Nico; which wasn't something Annabeth had planned on doing... I don't blame Annabeth for that though either, she's been beneath Chiron so long that she probably doesn't realize the shady stuff he does, and to her "going to tell" probably was the "right" move because she was a child...

But the fact that Chiron believes Nico truly would be better off eaten than alive :/

- Tower of Nero

This quote from Tower of Nero shows that Chiron lied to a bunch of young children (most of them were young because the older campers are largely dead because of the war or too old for camp now). It wasn't just a little white lie that adults sometimes tell kids either; they were walking into battle and he told them it was a field trip.

Did he even begin to explain the danger he was putting these kids in? Did the children understand their situation? And how dangerous it was?

Kayla has been blindsided over the years into thinking that telling children they're going on a field trip instead of fighting a battle is something to make a joke of and not be questioned... (Again, I don't blame her she's only like 12 in the book, but still)

Apollo also agrees, which isn't on Chiron but it's a whole mother reason why I can't stand Rick's interpretation of Apollo...

<><><><><>

This isn't me being like "oh Chiron is the worst most evil character ever" I just think that he has numerous flaws which are largely ignored in favor of the "perfect wise teacher" narrative when in fact Chiron and Dumbledore share a lot of.. Offputting qualities.

I do think that some of the situation is simply a result of Chiron having his hands tied behind his back by the gods some. And he even goes so far as to confirm this in a scene of TLT

However many of the scenes in which he exhibits behaviors like that in my first three screenshots are not related to anything the gods require and are, in fact, of Chiron's own free will.

Some things I would blame Zeus and the council for, such as how he withholds information from Percy to an excessive amount for long periods of time even when Percy straight up asks about things. I could easily see that being Zeus trying to prevent Percy from claiming the prophecy as his own, and I could see reasoning that maybe Chiron had sworn over the River Styx or something similar.

But those things don't apply to Chiron making such an unnecessary comment about Percy's mother so close to her "death". It doesn't explain why he would say he hoped Nico had been eaten out loud, and it doesn't cover the fact that he led children into a battlefield without telling them that's what was happening.

I think the context of Chiron's choices and comments would be different if the campers were older. If they were in their late teens or early twenties for the most part, I wouldn't really have much to say about how Chiron handled the situation.

But this man is in charge of children and extremely young teenagers, Percy is only 12 in TLT, maybe if he would have been 16 or 17 then I could give Chiron a pass, but he wasn't. Within the context of the comment he made in the Titan's Curse, Percy is only 14 and Nico is 10 at the beginning of the book... You don't wish a 10 year old had been eaten alive by a monster no matter how bad you think the alternative is, and if you do wish that you don't say it out loud to a group of other children. In the battle from Tower of Nero we get a quick look at the battlefield, and although Ben's age, and the age of another girl fighting alongside him are never confirmed they are implied to be fairly young, and we know Kayla is only 12 at the time too; yet Chiron told them it was a field trip instead of a battle, limiting the time they would have to mentally prepare themselves for what was coming.

On top of that, the nods the reader gets to the fact that Chiron can't act out against the gods depletes over the course of the series. After TLT the amount of times the situation involves the gods interfering with what Chiron is allowed to say lessens, and by the time the Heroes of Olympus series comes around, these limitations on his speech is almost entirely gone. Yet as seen in Tower of Nero he still does morally questionable things in regards to how he treats the campers.

Like I said, I recognize that in many scenes Chiron's hands are tied behind his back because of the gods.. But there are undeniably things he does of his own free will that are, in the nicest manner, very :/

This also isn't a full list of comparisons just a few notable scenes. I don't think Chiron is equally as bad as Dumbledore, but I think it undeniable that Chiron has some significant flaws built into his character design.

A good character has flaws, and there's nothing wrong with having a character that doesn't always conduct themselves properly or have good intentions- it's actually good writing, and I can appreciate that, but for some reason I find myself personally rubbed the wrong way by Chiron. This doesn't make Chiron badly written, or poorly designed, in fact I would say Rick's Chiron is very well designed in lots of ways, but I just don't like how it's never acknowledged by anyone in the series.

Like I said, I'm not starting an anti-Chiron situation, I just think little events like those mentioned, the way he's built a child army, and how he doesn't even try to plead with the gods over raising the ages on campers being allowed to battle is a little sus. But it more so bothers me that there's no attention payed to this problem anywhere in the books, not even by a side character or Luke, nowhere.

I don't actually care that much and this isn't that important to me, but sometimes people ask why I don't like Chiron and this is basically just my explanation to hand off to them... It's not even so much that I dislike Chiron entirely, he's well written and has his "good" moments, I just don't like the way other characters interact with him and his actions.

It's more a personal beef with him rather than an aspect of poor writing or him "being bad"... PJO in general (and HoO/ToA to a much lesser extent) shows that there's not such an inherent good vs bad in the world, and that sometimes people are victims of circumstances in some situations, or they're horribly misguided in their actions, but the series does a good job of showing those people as human still, and I applaud that.

I don't really know how to tie this up in its entirety, but there's nothing wrong with having a morally grey character who does questionable things and in many aspects it is good writing. I think Chiron is a result of Rick not thinking through the implications what he's doing in lots of situations, and I can see a fairly consistent drop in Chiron's characterization from PJO-ToA which is consistent with most other aspects of Rick's work.

I also want to clarify that if you like Chiron and disagree with me, that's absolutely 110% okay, I just personally dislike Chiron and that's on me. Like my problem with many of Rick's other immortal characters, I think he missed important aspects of them in some manner and slightly (or entirely in some cases) mischaracterized them in comparison to their original myths.. Some of these characters he came around on and fixed their character in many aspects to their more "correct" characterization (like Hera), while others (like Chiron and Apollo) he never quite figured them out. Which is a running complaint I have with Rick so I'm just adding this to his tab.

But yeah, I don't hate Chiron I just dislike him and those are different things, and I don't think it's a bad thing to have a morally questionable character, Chiron just personally rubs me the wrong way and I just wanted to explain that more fully because I've been asked about it multiple times.

Also I apologize for not adding a [read more] to this, it's a complaint of mine often when scrolling through the tags but I'm on mobile currently and don't have immediate access to a computer so~

[weasleylangs]

in the summer sun - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader but honestly it’s just a whole Weasley family slice of life fic. Summary: The war has ended and the Weasley’s appreciate their family now more than ever. Warnings: Mention of the war, mention of Fred having a near death experience, mention of PTSD, anxiety, nightmares and injuries, opening scene involves an anxiety attack, fuck is said twice by the way. Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This fic is inspired by this ask I received from Kai @weasleyclaw for the ‘send me a made up title game’! The warnings sound scary, but I promise this is a super fluffy slice-of-life fic with Fred and the reader, just existing after the war! Fred lives, obviously but he still had an accident and in reality, he’d be going through a lot of shit and I didn’t want to ignore that!

I am in no way romanticising mental illness and trauma, I myself struggle with a variety of mental illness and trauma and representation is super important, babey!!!!!! Proper support is important!!!!!!

I still can’t decide if I love or hate this but.... [schedules while I’m asleep]

----------------------

Fred sat up quickly. Heavy and ragged breathing coursing through his lungs as he struggled to catch his breath. He couldn’t even remember what he was dreaming of now that he’s awake, only remembering flashes of green and a loud ‘bombarda maxima’ before being shocked awake by his anxiety and fear.

He’s been plagued by nightmares for three months, ever since he was fighting in that seventh floor corridor and the wall came crashing down on him. He knows it’s normal to be haunted by these memories, he almost died, for crying out loud, but he would really like to have one night where he sleeps through it without being jolted awake. 

He could feel the pressure in his chest get stronger as he struggled to breathe as he checked the clock on the bedside table. It reads 6:30am and when he looks out the window he realises the sun is already rising and the summer heat is making it into their bedroom. His girlfriend of five years sleeps in the bed next to him, snoring lightly having not been woken up by his oncoming anxiety attack.

Fred struggles to remember the grounding technique she taught him when he had his first attack. She’s his biggest supporter, always there when he needs her, but he wants to get better himself . He doesn't want to rely on her for the rest of his days no matter how often she reminds him it’s okay and that she wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.

He’s got his legs swung over the side of the bed, his body closing in on himself when he feels the bed move and arms wrap around his middle, “Breathe, Freddie, and tell me five things you can see,” she whispers gently in his ear.

His eyes darts around the room, searching as he tries his best to breathe, “The tree outside our window, the lamp, that chair,” he struggles to speak as his breathing is laboured, “your book on my bedside table, my slippers…”

“Good job, my love. Now, four things you can touch.”

His hands grab hers, “Your hands,” he says as he turns to face her, “the duvet, my shirt and…” His hand moves, from her hand to cupping her face, “your hair.” 

This continues, Fred rattling off three things he can hear, two things he can smell and one thing he can taste before he realises his breathing has slowed down, his hands have stopped shaking and while the pressure in his chest is still there, it’s been alleviated and he knows it’ll disappear in a few moments. 

Y/N whispers soft praise in Fred’s ear as she lays him back down in their bed. She’s so proud of the progress he has made in just a short few months. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He shakes his head, while he barely remembers, he knows it’s the same nightmare as usual. Hogwarts, duelling, wall comes crashing down and Fred almost dies. It’s more of a flashback if anything, that he’s constantly reliving the worst day of his life.

“That’s okay, we can just lay here and rest before we go to your mum and dad’s… If you still feel up to going?” Y/N knows when nights like this happen, Fred usually wants to stay in bed and recoup his energy and try again the next day. 

“No, no, we have to go,” he says and it’s not because it’s an obligation, he truly does want to. After almost dying, after spending almost a year without knowing if Ron, Harry and Hermione were okay, after Bellatrix Lestrange threatened to kill both Ginny and his own mother and with Percy reconnecting with them all, he appreciates family time like he never did before. They all deserve to have happy, carefree and relaxing days and that’s what today is meant to be for them all.

“If you’re sure, my love,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. Fred probably won't fall back asleep, the sun has risen and while he won’t admit it, he’s too scared to try and sleep again. But he doesn’t mind, he’s perfectly content having Y/N fall back asleep in his arms and sometimes, rarely but sometimes, her soft snores lulls Fred into a light, undisturbed sleep.

-

It’s lunch time by the time Fred and Y/N apparate to The Burrow. Fred’s still recovering physically from his injuries - having your entire body crushed by rubble does that to you, so he happily side-along apparates with Y/N instead of solo floo’ing places. 

When they walk into the house, they’re met with a chorus of hello’s and Molly dragging Fred into a hug and kisses his cheeks repeatedly, and then continues to complain that he has no meat on his bones and that he needs to be eating more while shoving a muffin into his hand. 

George is snickering by the table because someone who isn’t himself is finally being on the receiving end of his mothers affection and he has Angelina Johnson awkwardly beside him. When Y/N raises her eyebrows at him, he mouths a ‘I’ll explain later’ before winking and walking Angelina over to her. 

“Hey, Angie,” she says, pulling the girl into a hug. While they were never close at school, considering Y/N wasn’t a Gryffindor, they still got along when the time arose, “didn’t know my little Georgie here got himself a bird.” 

George groans at the fact Y/N completely ignored him and Angelina blushes as she tries to hide her face behind her hair, but Y/N can see that she’s smiling and not at all bothered by the teasing, “Hey, I’m only teasing, come here!” she says as she pulls the embarrassed girl into a tight embrace. While Y/N drops the subject of Angelina and George finally getting their lives together and dating after years of pining, George knows Y/N is going to corner him later and get the answers out of him.

Hermione and Ginny quickly run down the stairs and grab Y/N, pulling her into a hug as well. Soon enough, the entire family is trying to squeeze inside the living room - including Bill and Fleur who always turn up for the Weasley get together and even Charlie has taken extended leave from his job in Romania to stay and spend the summer with everyone. 

Because of the overcrowding, Ron whistles loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention, “Who wants to play a game of quidditch and let mum have some peace and quiet?” Immediately Harry, the twins, Angelina and Charlie are out the door, already fighting about teams and position. Y/N briefly hears Harry whine ‘I want to be on Charlie’s team but he plays seeker’ as their voices fade. Ginny stays back, wanting to catch up with Y/N for a bit and promises to join everyone later.

Fred loves nothing more than spending time with his siblings. Growing up as a twin, he’s had someone constantly by his side, but he loves his huge family more than anything. George and he spend 5 minutes fighting over who gets to be beater until they just decide they’ll just be on different teams before they realise they don’t have enough siblings for a full team anyway, meaning the beaters are out of the equation.

This causes the twins to just start jokingly fighting over who plays chaser before Ron and Harry has to break it up so they can actually play. 

Fred adores flying. His hair has been growing out and the wind through it as he flies is one of the best feelings in the world, he thinks. It makes him forget all his worries, his only focus is snatching the quaffle out of George’s slimy grip and getting it past Charlie, who’s playing both keeper and seeker for the other team to make up for the lack of players.

“Oi, Ickle Ronnikins,” he calls out from his broom, wobbling slightly as he yells to get his brother’s attention, “mind paying attention to the match and not your girlfriend? George is getting every shot in, mate,” He’s teasing of course. They can see the girls through the window and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t sneaking glances at Y/N.

Meanwhile, the three girls sit at the kitchen table chatting amongst themselves and Bill and Fleur are outside in the garden when Percy and his girlfriend turn up. There’s tension in the air, there always is when Percy turns up. It’s not that no one wants him there, but given his history of being a ‘right prat’ (Fred’s words), everyone is cautious. 

But he goes right up to Molly, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her on the cheek and then turns to his dad and gives him a hug. 

“Hey Gin, Y/N, Hermione,” he gives them a curt nod as they say hello back before pulling the girl beside him closer, “this is Audrey, my girlfriend. Do you guys mind hanging with her while I go find the boys?"

The girls, of course, nod. “How long have you and Percy been together for?” Y/N asks as the girl sits and she hopes she isn’t coming off rude. She’s been with Fred for five years and never met Audrey and Hermione’s been in the Weasley’s lives for even longer, so it’s clearly a recent development. 

“Around this time last year… With everything going on and Percy not being on speaking terms with everyone, we haven’t really had the chance to meet…” she trails off and Y/N senses the awkward tension rising, so she grabs Audrey’s hand in a reassuring matter.

“Don’t stress about that. You’re here now and you’re family,” while Y/N isn’t officially a Weasley, her and Fred have spoken about their future together on numerous occasions so she doesn’t feel like she’s speaking out of turn offering ‘Weasley Family Status’ to Audrey, “I’m Y/N, Fred’s girlfriend.” 

“And I’m Hermione, Ron’s girlfriend,” Hermione adds and before Ginny even speaks, Y/N interrupts her, “You’re obviously a Weasley, Gin,” and the girls all start giggling.

“I’m Ginny, Harry’s girlfriend!” she exclaims proudly when all the girls finally calm down and it only sets them off again.

What the girls don’t notice is that Molly’s watching them, with a smile on her face. She’s always wanted daughters - she loves Ginny and she loves every single one of her sons, but she wishes she had been able to give her a sister. But watching the scene unfold in front of her, how these girls welcome Audrey so easily into their lives, Molly’s eyes well with tears as she realises she has the most wonderful daughter and future daughter-in-laws a woman could ask for. 

“How’s Fred doing?” Ginny asks. Of course, everyone’s suffered from the war, but everyone is constantly concerned about Fred. 

“Between seeing his psychologist and his physical therapy appointments, he’s doing really good,” she says, looking out the window and she laughs as she sees Fred holding Ron in a headlock, shouting something about how rusty he is at keeper, “there’s days it’s hard, and he has really bad nightmares sometimes, and there's days where they make him not want to leave the house but he had one this morning and was determined to get here today. I’m really proud of him.” 

Molly rubs Y/N on the shoulders, almost like a thank you for being there for Fred through it all as she places muffins in front of all the girls and takes her own seat. She takes a moment to scold Arthur for trying to repair the muggle radio playing he’s stolen from work before joining in on the girls’ conversation as they eat. 

The sweet moment is interrupted by a voice that is clearly Percy’s shouting and both Y/N and Audrey’s automatic assumption is that the worst has happened. Especially when Y/N hears the familiar voice of her boyfriend shouting incoherently. 

All the girls rush out the door, expecting to break up a fight but that isn’t what’s happening. Instead, Fred has Percy on the ground, rolling around in dirt and they’re both laughing . Molly has to excuse herself, tears welling in her eyes at the sight of Percy being accepted by his brother. 

“What’s going on here?” Audrey questions. It’s clear she’s still weary, worried that at a moment's notice, Percy’s siblings will turn on him and forget his apology. Fred looks up, winking at Y/N before looking at Audrey and flashes her a cheeky smirk, “Perce said I suck at quidditch.” 

Everyone rolls their eyes at this as Y/N grabs Fred’s hand and pulls him up. She lives with him, so one would think that the time spent apart at The Burrow is no big deal, but secretly Y/N has always been super clingy, wanting to always have Fred in her sights, and it's only worsened now they live together.

“Hi Freddie,” she giggles, tucking herself close to his side despite the summer heat blasting down on them, “I miss you.” she whispers.

Fred lets out a cackle of a laugh, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and leading her to the tree they always sit under as he tells Ginny to take his spot on their makeshift quidditch team. Secretly, he was hoping to get away from the game because he needs a break and maybe an attempted nap under the tree. 

He settles down first, stretching his legs out as he leans against the trunk and then he pulls Y/N down to sit between them and to rest her back against his chest. This has always been their favourite way to cuddle.

“What’s the go with George and Angie? I knew they were going on dates but...” Fred asks, and Y/N shrugs. “He just said he’d fill me in later so I’m still waiting. But she’s at family day, so it must be getting serious.” Fred hums behind her, resting his chin on top of his head as he watches his family on the makeshift field in front of them fight over quidditch rules. George is trying to teach Percy fake rules and Ginny’s smacking him over the head as he laughs at the confused expression on Percy’s face. 

To their right, Arthur’s got the radio working and he’s charmed it to blast 80s muggle music loudly for the entire family to hear. Bill’s dragged Fleur to dance around with him and Arthur’s trying to get Molly to join them. Charlie’s sitting with Audrey and Hermione, probably droning on about dragons as usual and the girls listen intently, gasping when appropriate. 

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N asks. Fred is never this quiet, usually speaking every single thought that comes to his mind without any sort of filter. It’s gotten him in trouble a fair few times, from both his mother and Y/N. 

“I’m just happy,” he says quietly, tucking his head into her neck, and Y/N doesn’t miss the crack in his voice, “I’m so happy I’m here with everyone.” She shuffles in her spot so she can sit and face Fred and he can’t meet her eyes because his own are welling with tears.

“Don’t hide, my love, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she coos as she cups his cheeks in her hands. He leans into her touch and smiles as he sniffles. 

“I know, it’s just…” He trails off and Y/N knows what he’s going to say. He almost wasn’t here and that thought haunts the both of them more often than they’d like to admit. “I know, but that doesn’t matter, because you’re here , and I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am you are,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheeks.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says and Y/N’s heart swells. Marriage and lots of ginger babies has always been in their life plan, but hearing Fred say it, so, so vulnerably, almost brings her to tears. “Forever, Freddie, you promised,” she replies and he leans forward and presses a soft kiss on her lips. 

He’s always promised. He promised forever when they were 16 and they’d only been together for a year as they danced at the Yule Ball until 12am. At 17, when he admitted he wouldn’t be finish the school year. He promised once again at 18, before he flew out of Hogwarts with George. At 19, straight after George had his ear cursed off and he was sick with fear because the war was real and happening.

At 20, they were fighting in their school and he’d promised, ‘We're surviving this fucking thing and I’m marrying you as soon as I can.’ 

They pull apart and Y/N is smiling at him, adoration filled in her eyes as Fred feels around in his shorts, clearly trying to grab something. When he pulls it out, Y/N’s eyes catch the small, velvet black box and while she doesn’t want to get her hopes up, her heart is racing.

“I’ve been carrying this everyday, waiting for the perfect time,” he chuckles, shaking his head. You’d think Fred Weasley would have a huge and bizarre proposal, most likely with fireworks and dancing gnomes somehow, but in reality, this is perfect. He’s surrounded by his loved ones, there’s no war and he wants nothing more than to officially make Y/N a Weasley. 

“Is that now, Freddie?” she says and he nods, smiling. Y/N thinks he’s never looked happier in his life. He knows what her answer will be so he doesn’t feel the slightest bit nervous.

“I promised you, we're surviving the war and I’m fucking marrying you as soon as I can, so here I am,” he pops the box open and Y/N gasps. It’s nothing extravagant but she doesn’t mind. Small and classy, just like she’d always wanted and she doesn’t even realise she’s crying until Fred’s hand wipes her tears with his free hand, “Will you marry me?” 

She barely gives an answer, nodding her head violently as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his. Their teeth clash and they both laugh at Fred not being prepared to be jumped before getting a verbal response. Y/N pulls away and puts out her left hand, “Of course I’ll marry you.” 

He slides the ring on her finger and it’s a perfect fit. They continue to sit in front of the tree, watching their family but Y/N constantly catches herself looking at the diamond ring sparkling in the sun and she’s decided she’s never been happier as well.

Everything is perfect, because it’s the calm after a very, very long storm and she’s never taking family for granted again.

[weasleyswizardpleases]

And the Living is Easy (Fred x reader)

Summary: You spend the first night of summer vacation getting into trouble with the Weasleys + Harry and Hermione. Fred x reader. Fluffy mischief mostly, but sex is discussed and implied. 

Warnings/Notes: Light sexual content but not all out smut, alcohol, heights, language. I wrote this to be a stand alone, but I enjoyed it so much that it might become part of a loose series of slice of life-y reader x twins fics set at the burrow over the summer! ps i did not edit this at all after writing it at 2am so. uh

Summer at the Weasley’s is my favorite time of year. After my mother passed, you were tossed around from boarding school to boarding school, relative to relative, never really having a say in where you went, or with whom. But ever since becoming fast friends with Fred and George while repairing brooms for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you’ve pretty much been considered an honorary Weasley.

You stow your suitcases in the overhead and squeeze into a seat next to Fred and George. Across from you, Ron, Lee, and Harry are packed in. 

“Do you reckon you’ll ever make it out to the burrow, Lee?” asks George pointedly. 

“Yeah, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Mrs. Weasley’s hotcakes are out of this world.” Harry says.

“And there’s loads of space to play quidditch.” you say.

“And loads of secret spots not even Mum knows about where we can basically do whatever we like.” adds Fred.

“You know my mum will hardly let me out of her sight for a day. Merlin’s sake, she’s practically ass to elbow on me all summer.” Lee says, faking a pout. “Quit ribbing at me, would you? Or I’ll spend the summer in my room coming up with derogatory names to call you on the Quidditch pitch.”

Murmurs of “Come on, we’re only joking.” and “Fine, fine.” fill the packed compartment. You lift your rat Pansy up to the window to show him the scenery.

“Bet you’ve never seen the fine English countryside like this, eh Pansy?” you baby-talk at him, scratching his little noggin.

“You know that thing is never gonna talk back at you, right Y/N?” says Fred, rolling his eyes. 

“You never know. Look what happened to Scabbers.” you say, wiggling you eyebrows. “This rat could also secretly be a creepy little pervert who watches me undress at night.”

“I suppose it isn’t unprecedented in the rat community,” agrees George. Ron scowls in disdain.

“That’s my pet we’re talking about!” he says, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

“Yeah, fine pet he was.” says Harry, grinning.

“I will say, Ron-” Fred begins, clearing his throat. “You’ll never find another like him.” He claps his little brother on the back and stands up, peering down the hallway. “Oi, it’s the trolley, look alive Georgie.” George rises and straightens his coat. The boys have been planning for ages to charm the trolley witch into selling their skiving snackboxes. They run off down the car towards her. You tuck Pansy back into his cage and watch the scenery go by yourself. Before you know it, you’re being shaken awake by Fred and George. 

“C’mon, Dad is waiting!” says George. 

“Got you some chocolate frogs, but that means you owe us one.” says Fred, shoving a wriggling paper bag into your hands. Delighted, you expertly open the bag, catch a frog, and slurp it up before it manages to escape. 

“Tank -ou” you mumble, your mouth still full. Lugging your trunks over to meet Mr. Weasley, you smile with excitement. Every summer with the Weasleys is a blast, but you know this one will start off with a bang because last week Fred absconded with a jug of top shelf mead from Filch’s office. You’d all agreed that you needed it more, since you want to have fun and have no money, while Filch obviously dislikes fun and ostensibly has some amount of money squirreled away from all his groundskeeping or lurking or whatever his job is. 

After greeting Molly, you and the twins bound up to their room- and, when you’re here, your room- pushing and shoving your way up the narrow stairwell. You toss your things down and throw yourself onto a bed, spreading your arms as if making a snow angel. 

“Oh, boys, it is good to be home!” you say, laughing. Fred and George always joke that their mother likes you, Harry, and Hermione better than any of her own actual children, and you love teasing them about it. 

“Speak for yourself, she’s already got that sending-us-to-de-gnome-the-

garden-while-hungover gleam in her eyes,” retorts George good-naturedly.

“And get your shoes off my bed! Mum will have all three of us beating out the rugs if she sees that.” says Fred. You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, baiting the boys into attempting to push you off the bed. You wind up making such a ruckus roughhousing that Hermione comes in looking concerned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You all three pause from your compromised position to look at her, you releasing a vise grip on Fred, George dropping your left leg, which he had been twisting violently.

“When did you get here?” you ask, running to hug her. 

“Just apparated over, my parents would never forgive me if I didn’t at least drop by for dinner before practically moving here for the summer!” she replies, turning to greet the twins. 

“Are you going to be participating in our little soiree tonight, ‘Mione?” asks George, raising an eyebrow. 

“What are you three planning?” she asks sternly, stifling an excited smile.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you say. 

“But don’t wear white shoes.” warns Fred. Hermione gives you all a funny look before running off to finish her greetings. 

“Where are we going tonight, Freddie?” you ask, looking up at your tall friend. He gives you a cheeky glance.

“Oh, out by the bog. There’s a huge hill between there and the house, so we can make a fire and nobody will see.”

“And there’s a huge stand of trees and a pond between that spot and the neighbors’,” says George. 

“You two have got it all figured out. And you’ve got the firewhiskey! What a night, what a night it shall be.” you say, your voice singsonging as you dance exaggeratedly. 

“Too bad nobody invited any girls.” says Ron from the doorway. He’s been standing in the hallway looking in the mirror for some time now, fussing with his hair.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ginny shouts from her open door down the hall.

“YOU don’t count!” Ron replies.

“We know you’ve got someone else in mind, little brother.” George says, flicking Ron in the ear. 

“It’s pretty obvious,” Fred agrees.

“You get all flustered when she corrects your grammar,” you say.

“And you let her braid your hair.” says Fred.

“And you-” begins George, but Ron interrupts, his face beet red.

“Shhhh! Buzz off you two, or I’ll start blabbing on about who you’re interested in as well.”

The twins exchange a somewhat threatened glance, but say nothing.

“That’s right, I’m not as dull as you lot like to think, thank you very much. I notice things. So let me alone or I’ll sing like a canary!” Ron finishes, turning back to the mirror for a final glance at his hair before trotting downstairs. 

“You two have crushes?” you demand, turning to stare down the twins. Fred shrugs with his usual attitude but you notice a light blush spreading across each of their cheeks. You swat him across the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it? You motherfuckers.” You grab George by the collar. “George, tell me who it is! A crush, my god.” You throw your hands up in the air. They’re being super weird, so you decide to drop the subject. “When you snog every girl and half the boys in the school, between the two of you, you practically hold us all down to tell us the details but now you’ve got a crush and suddenly you’re like a couple of mimes.” You look each of them in the eyes, and both avoid your stare. “Fine! Don’t tell me.” You throw your hands up in mock anger and lead the charge downstairs to begin setting the table for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After dinner, you pass the evening playing cards and chatting until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley retire for the night. Then, you’re left with all your friends and Percy, who it has been agreed simply cannot know you’re sneaking out to drink in the woods, because he is a killjoy. Using a previously discussed maneuver, Hermione attempts to trick him into believing that she and Ginny are going to bed, hoping that he will get nervous about being bullied if left alone with you and the twins, and elect to follow them to bed soon after. However, Percy is in an unusually jovial mood, and so Ron and Harry are forced to retreat as well. As a last line of defense, you pretend to fall asleep on George’s shoulder, nuzzling into his sweater. When Percy gets up to go to the bathroom, you dash outside into the moonlit yard, covering your mouth so your giggles don’t give you away. You run to crouch behind the garden shed, doubled over with laughter. 

“I thought he would never stop yapping.”

“God, how are you two related to that bore?”

“We can’t help it.” Fred says, bending to gather rocks from the ground. 

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Watch!” he raises his hand to throw a pebble at Ginny’s window, but you grab his wrist.

“Have you lost the plot? Percy will hear! And probably your mum too, with your aim. I’ve got a better idea,” you say, peeking around the garden shed while gesturing for the boys to stay put. You pop out of the shed with a dusty, rickety broom. 

“Does this thing still work?” you ask.

“Well enough,” says Fred, getting a running start and jumping on the broom. Wobbling a bit, he sails up to Ginny’s window and confers with the girls, then moves on to Ron’s window, where he perches on the sill, one foot dangling out the window.

Beside you, you’re aware of George’s presence beside you in the cool, sticky night.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmurs, elbowing you gently. “How’d you even know that thing was in there?”

“Lucky guess. I mean, with a family full of Quidditch players, there’s bound to be a broom lying about someplace.” 

Fred jumps down onto the broom and turns a few experimental loop de loops overhead before nearly falling and coming to a shaky landing near your feet. 

“That one belongs on the rubbish heap, honestly,” he says, laughing as he tosses the old thing aside.

“Oh, sure, blame it on the broom,” you tease.

He’s soon followed by Ginny and Hermione on Ginny’s broom. They glide down and come to a halt next to you, stepping down gracefully.

“How are Harry and Ron going to get out? They’d have to go right by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, unless Harry has his broom up there with him, but I think I saw it in the foyer.” says Hermione, looking at Fred worriedly.

“Well, err, I told them to climb down,” says Fred earnestly.

“What?!” says Hermione. “They’ll be loud as bison, besides probably breaking their necks.”

“It’s not my fault they’re too dumb to pass their apparation O.W.L.S! They’ll be fine.”

As he finishes his sentence, Ron’s window slides open and Harry’s head pops out. He lowers what appears to be a rope made of sheets and blankets tied together. Hermione’s brow furrows as she watches, helpless, while Ron artlessly slips one leg out the window, before even checking to see that the “rope” is nowhere near long enough to reach the ground. Ginny giggles, biting her lip when she sees Hermione’s distress.

“Do something!” Hermione hisses, nudging her. Ginny groans and soars over to boost Ron onto the back of her broom, going back to do the same for Harry.

“Shite! The firewhiskey,” you whisper, smacking your forehead. Everyone lets out a collective groan, but before you can send someone back up to hunt down the alcohol, Ginny opens her backpack, revealing the gleaming jug. Everyone cheers, but then quickly realizes that loudly cheering may have blown your cover. Fred and George scurry off into the brush and you all follow them down a lightly trod path through the countryside, eventually reaching the open bank of a large, murky pond. This is a spot you’ve never been to before, probably because it’s a fair stretch away from the house, and apparently from any civilization at all. 

Hermione quickly conjures a large fire, creating a pocket of warmth in the chilly night air. You lean against a large rock and shiver when the cool stone brushes the back of your neck. Ginny pulls out the firewhiskey and hands it to Fred, who pops the cork, shouting with glee before knocking back a sip and passing it to George, who passes it to you. The familiar sickly sweet liquid burns your throat and warms your stomach, and you feel your (already barely existent) inhibitions begin melting away.

Before long, Ron suggests that you all play a game, and you run through your options: truth or dare, spin the bottle, a wizarding game you’ve never heard of, and hide and go seek. Hermione refutes hide and go seek on the basis of safety, and Fred refutes spin the bottle on the basis of the fact that four out of six of you are siblings. Not everyone brought their wands, so you can’t play the magic game, and you’re left with truth or dare as the apparent winner, which you were rooting for anyway, because you want to see what you can get the twins to do. It almost makes you wish Percy was here so you could put him in a compromising position, but knowing him, he’d find a way to make walking on hot coals boring. 

“I’ll start, I’ll start!” you volunteer, looking around the circle. “My first victim will beeeee…” you look at Hermione, who cringes nervously, then spin around to point at Harry. “Harry Potter. What will it be, Mr. Potter, truth or dare?” you ask.

Harry shrugs. “Hmm.. I’ll do.. Dare, why not?” he replies. 

“Alright Harry, I dare you tooooo.... Oh, easy. I dare you to smack Ron every time he says something you think is stupid tonight. And be honest, or we’ll smack you,” you say. The twins nod in agreement. 

“That’s not fair! That’s barely a real dare!” protests Ron. You raise an eyebrow at Harry, who turns and gives his friend a good wallop. 

“Alright Harry, your turn.” 

You play for nearly an hour, all the while passing the bottle lazily between you, until everyone’s good and tipsy on the strong liquor. Several good dares are exchanged: Fred is dared to give you a lap dance, which he does with gusto and an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You dare Ginny to race you across the pond and back, and you both strip down to your skivvies and plunge into the chilly water. Ginny wins, of course, but you just wanted an excuse for a swim. Fred lends you his cloak, patting it onto your shoulders to dry them before you pull your pants back on. George dares Ron to walk back to the house and get food, which he reluctantly agrees to after everyone bullies him into it. By the time he gets back with a basket of pastries and jam, you’ve transitioned to mainly truths, because the well of dares has run dry. 

When it’s Hermione’s turn to ask Fred, she blushingly asks if he’s lost his virginity. 

“What, do you all think I’ve snogged every girl we know without scaring? Have a little faith, please.”

“Clever, but that’s not an answer!” slurs Hermione, pointing at him and grinning. “Have you actually had sex before, or do you just talk a big game?” 

“Well, have you?” you ask, laughing as he tries to bluster out an answer.

“”Course I have. Ask anybody. Everybody must think George and I are the male sluts of the century, the way you people talk.” 

“Still not an answer!” you say, looking at him mischievously. 

“How’s this for an answer, then?” he retorts, pulling you to his waist and kissing you on the lips melodramatically, throwing you up against the rock, practically fucking but for the clothes. What’s probably thirty seconds of kissing at most feels like an hour. Everyone goes “Oooooh!” and when he finally lets you go you’re flabbergasted, but you recover your senses.

“Point taken, then. Alright Freddie, your turn,” you say, straightening your clothes and trying not to look like you enjoyed that. 

“I dare Hermione to let us play hide and seek, for fuck’s sake,” he says, lazily.

“Ugh! I might be drunk but I’m not letting anyone stumble around alone in the pitch black plastered out of your mind. Ask me a real question!” 

“What if we weren’t alone?” Harry asks, looking around. “I mean, we could go in pairs or little groups. Like team hide and seek, basically.”

“I call Fred and George!” you cry, throwing your arms around their sweaty necks. 

“Fine, but please be careful. And everyone should be on a team with at least one person with a wand,” says Hermione, who teams up with Ron. That leaves Harry and Ginny on the last team.

George produces his wand and casts an illumination spell.

“Not it!” You shout, immediately echoed by Ginny. 

“Alright, we’ll count to 50” says Hermione, but Harry and George protest until they finally agree to 3 minutes.

Fred tears off into the woods and you and George follow, bushes thwacking you in the face, vines snagging at your ankles. You break through the brush into a field, panting, and stop for a break. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, looking around. “And where are we?” 

“No idea!” Fred says gleefully. 

“What about over there?” George nods towards a patch of grass and trees down in a glenn. You lope down hill through high grass and crash to a halt in the stand of trees, crouching low. Fred huddles next to you and George clambers clumsily into one of the trees, flattening himself into one of its crooks.

You can feel your stomach churning after your run, but you manage to successfully push down the acrid taste rising in your throat. Above you, you hear George belch, and just manage to slip out of the way as he spits a pitiful glob of vomit to the ground.

“Oi, we’re down here, you lout,” hisses Fred, ducking.

“Look at the state of you,” you drawl, bumping into Fred as you readjust around George’s vomit. He groans from his spot up in the tree and lies back down sleepily. To your surprise, you feel the urge to pull Fred closer rather than pushing him away. The earthy smell of the forest floor calms your stomach, and you find your mind wandering to his lips, his hands on your waist and neck. Buzzing with drunken impulsivity, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and pull him to sit beside you. He looks surprised, but readily slouches against the tree trunk next to you. You can feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. The air is still and cool in that settled way characteristic of the night.

Overhead, you think you can hear George beginning to snore. 

“Freddie-” you begin, but before you can say a word, his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair. You push him down and roll over so that you’re straddling him, gripping his jaw in one hand as you kiss him, hard, then gently. His lips are softer and more relaxed than they were when he kissed you earlier, and his body less certain. There’s no false bravado in him now, and you bite his lip gently, your tongues barely batting together. You reach down to unzip his pants but he pulls back.

“Y/N- I- Look, I may have lied earlier,” he says, his face flush with desire and embarrassment. You look at him quizzically, your drunken mind not connecting all the dots. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t… done this before. I’ve only ever kissed. Although I’ve done quite a lot of that.” he says quietly. You blink.

“Oh. Oh! You total freak. Why go to all that trouble to convince everyone you have?”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to kiss you?”

This shuts you up. He pulls you back down to kiss you again, this time on the cheek, on the forehead, the neck. 

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” you say carefully, brushing a bead of sweat from his forehead. 

“No… no, I’m ready. I want this now,” he says, tugging at your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it into the grass, the game of hide and seek forgotten. Let the shirt be a warning flag to any nosy passerby. Fred kisses across your chest. 

“Freddie, we’re drunk,” you remind him, your breathing growing heavier as his tongue flicks across your nipple.

“I want you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck in between kisses. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he says. You kiss him in reply, and move again to unzip his pants. You feel his hard member ready to burst out of his jeans, and it sends a thrill through you.

You had considered that you might one day wind up with Fred or George, and honestly, you had figured it would be on some less-than-sober whim like this, but you never really pictured it. You certainly never imagined Fred like this, innocent and tame, hoping for someone else to take the lead.

“Will you show me how?”

“Yes,” you breathe your reply into his mouth.

“Will you go slow?” he asks sweetly, his coy submissiveness sending tremors through your body. 

“Yes. Come closer.”

In the morning, you groggily open your eyes at the sound of birds chirping. You sit up, your head throbbing, and look around. Above you and a few feet to your right, George is sleeping soundly on his belly in the flat convergence of an oak tree’s branches. To your left, shirtless and smeared with dirt, is Fred curled on top of his cloak, also fast asleep. 

“Guess they gave up on finding us,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair to smooth it into place. You remember what happened last night well enough, although some parts are cloudier than others, and you don’t remember deciding to fall asleep at all. You suppose it just happened at some point. Your heart beats faster, wondering if you and Fred will be an item after this, or if he’ll want to keep it quiet, or if you just won’t talk about it. You’re not sure what you want, yet. It’s still purple pre-dawn in the countryside, the sun not quite peeking over the horizon yet.

You know you enjoyed yourself, and you adore Fred- as a friend, certainly. As something more? Maybe. You brush away your anxieties and trust that you’ll settle things when you’re less groggy. Suddenly, it dawns on you that you’ve got to get back to the house before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wake up and notice your absence. You stand up as though the ground caught fire, kicking at Fred and shouting at George to get down.

You fetch your shirt from a nearby bush, and pluck a twig from Fred’s hair as he looks up, dazed.

“God, my head,” he says, squinting up at you. “What the hell time is it?”

“Never mind that, you’ll have worse than a headache if we don’t get back to the house by like, yesterday.”

“Merlin!” George exclaims, perking up and basically falling from his perch to the ground. Recovering he stands up, taking his surroundings in. “Hold on, what the hell happened to you, Fred? Where’s your shirt?”

“No time for all that, go!” you say, shoving George in the direction you suppose the house is in. You muster as fast a pace as you can and follow him, Fred scrambling to gather his cloak and tee shirt before catching up with you. With George’s back to both of you, you exchange a goofy grin and a wave of relief runs through you. He obviously doesn’t consider last night a mistake, either. You slip your hand into his and make your way into the breaking dawn.

[annonymouslyblonde]

The Monster Was Mortal

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Pairing: Percy x Annabeth

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Trigger warning: Descriptions of child abuse

Rating: T for language and description of child abuse

Summary: Set about two months after TLO. Instead of going back to camp or California for a long holiday weekend, Annabeth stays at the Jackson/Blofish apartment and ends up learning something new about Percy.

A scream filled the small apartment, waking Annabeth at a quarter till three in the morning. It was a scream that she knew well and still sent her heart plummeting to her toes. Percy. She snatched her knife from the bedside table, prepared to single-handedly take down whatever monster was tormenting him. The door hit the wall with a thud as Annabeth dropped into a fighting stance. But there was nothing there for her to slash at. In the dark, it took a moment for her to see Percy huddled in the corner of his room. With no monster to fight, she sheathed the dagger setting it on his desk.

"Percy," she asked, frightened by the way he stared straight through her. She dropped to her knees in front of him and tried to take grab his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" He shouted and pushed her hand away, curling further into his corner. "Don't hurt me."

Annabeth recoiled, hurt and scared. Why would he think she'd hurt him? She was at a loss for what to do. Sally quietly came into the room having also been woken up with the screaming. Waking up to her son's nightmares was unfortunately not a new occurrence. Annabeth slid back to sit against his bed giving Sally space. Numb, she watched the woman gently cradle Percy's face turning his gaze toward her. The vacant look in his eyes made Annabeth queasy.

“Sweetheart,” Sally gently called as if she were speaking to a cornered animal. “You're okay. He isn't here anymore. He's gone and he'll never hurt you again. We won't hurt you okay? Annabeth isn't going to hurt you.”

“Annabeth?” he asked finally seeing her clearly. She sank to her knees beside Sally and reached a hand out hoping he didn't smack it away this time. He clutched her to him, shaking and crying.

Annabeth thought it must have been a quest vision, a bad one, but Sally knew the differences in her son's nightmares. After a light kiss to the top of his head, she stepped out of the room knowing the conversation the pair needed to have. Percy told her weeks ago of his intention to tell Annabeth about Gabe one day, but the relationship was still new despite all the things they had faced together, despite knowing each other for four years. He was still a little afraid and embarrassed by what happened to him no matter how many times Sally assured him it wasn't his fault. It broke her heart her baby had to do this at all.

His sobs slowed to sniffles against her shoulder. Realizing he must have woken up half the building, his cheeks flushed.

“I'm sorry I woke you up,” he mumbled, trying to pull away. Her fingers laced through his dark hair in a soothing gesture, keeping him close to her.

“No, Percy, you don't have to apologize. But why did you think I'd hurt you?” She tried to keep her voice even, but the pain and desperation still seeped in. “I would never hurt you, not on purpose. You know that right?”

Percy of course did know that. There were plenty of bruises and scrapes from sparing practice, but neither would ever intentionally inflict pain on the other. His grip tightened around the fabric of her shirt, painfully aware there would be no walking this back.

“It wasn't you I thought would hurt me.” Silence permeated the space as the couple clung to each other. After another calming breath, he admitted “I thought Gabe was still here.”

“Gabe? Smelly Gabe?” she asked not understanding why Percy would have a nightmare about him. He nodded mutely against her collar.

Suddenly, Annabeth realized she didn't know much about his former stepfather. She knew the nickname Smelly Gabe and that he was no longer in the picture, but nothing more. Her mind was turning, processing the information that Percy was afraid, deathly afraid of this man.

“You thought that Gabe was here and gonna hurt you.” It came out as a statement instead of a question. The pieces all clicked together in Annabeth's mind. Her sweet, kind, wonderful Percy had been abused as a child.

“He used to hit me.” He confirmed needing to finally tell someone. For years, he tried masking the trauma through sarcasm and jokes. Letting Annabeth see this side would be a big step, one he didn't know how she'd react to. The carefully crafted persona he had hidden behind for years would never fit again around her.

“A lot,” he continued. “If something didn't go his way it was my fault somehow. He lost his poker game or get fired from a job. So he'd take his anger out on me. With his fists or a belt. Sometimes beer bottles.”

Annabeth's vision blurred into swirls of red. Blood red. Gabe's vile red blood spilled for even touching her boyfriend. She had heard of the metaphor of seeing red but had never experienced that type of all-consuming rage before. Her whole body tensed looking for the threat, ready to cut it down. Instead, she clutched Percy closer assuring herself that he was safe in her arms. She would make sure he was safe.

“My nightmare was about him. He came back and had me down on the ground kicking me. And suddenly it was like I was six again and couldn't do anything but try and protect my head.”

Bile rose in her throat as she clinched the back of his shirt trying to control her rage. Six. Percy remembered being kicked by a full-grown man at six years old. Annabeth had faced a lot of monsters in her sixteen years, but nothing as vile as this despicable mortal. If he was willing to kick a six-year-old, she couldn't bear to speculate what he may have done to Percy as he got older and more willful. She wasn't sure if mortals could end up in Tartarus, but she prayed to Hades this one did.

“It's kinda funny,” he laughed slightly manic against her neck. Annabeth couldn't see anything funny relating to this situation, but she didn't interrupt choosing instead to place an encouraging kiss on his temple. “I can't even remember which monsters gave me what scars, but I remember every mark Gabe ever gave me.”

She wanted to scream and lash out at whoever let this happen to him but instead decided to redirect the anger into comfort. Subconsciously, her fingers found a scar that ran the length of his bicep, gently tracing the puckered skin.

“Monster,” he murmured, and she knew this would be how she could get him to open up and tell her the details.

“He's a monster too,” she insisted. The beast of a man was more monster than the ones they fought with celestial bronze in her opinion. Monsters were born to hunt and kill demigods. This man chose violence and pain.

“Fine, Greek,” he conceded too tired to argue, especially not when he agreed.

She nodded approving of the term. Her fingers drifted down to a cluster of small circular marks on his forearm. The muscle stiffened under her touch, but he told her how the scars came to be.

“Cigarette,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “I didn't dump his ashtray the night before so he said I'd be his new ash tray.”

“How old were you?” As soon as she asked, Annabeth wished she hadn't. It didn't matter how old he was. Putting a lit cigarette out on someone of any age was horrendous.

“Four,” he whispered, burying his face into her shoulder. She very well almost stopped there unsure if she was strong enough to hear this. But then Percy shuddered and fisted the fabric at her back. He needed her then, and she wouldn't back down. He needed to unburden himself, and he was choosing to confide in her. So she continued, her fingers dancing across his skin until she came to a scar. They spent an hour like that until all the visible scars were cataloged.

Her hand trailed timidly down to the hem of his shirt. She had seen scars on his back and chest before at camp, chalking it up to monster attacks, but now she questioned everything she knew. When he gave her the smallest nod pressing his head down into her shoulder, she slid her hands under his shirt. At first, she simply pressed her palms to his Achilles heel hoping to lend some strength and comfort. After a long moment, his grip on her shirt lessened, and she continued her search across his back.

As he opened up at each gentle touch, the flood gate widened, rushing to purge his soul of the poison he had bottled up for years. Just as she thought there wasn't room for any more scars, he guided her hand back to a set of slash marks across his ribs that she had missed, where the broken edges of a beer bottle had cut into the skin.

Once the last scar was accounted for, they continued sitting on the floor of his room wrapped in each other's embrace. Her hands lay clasped at the small of his back as he continued telling her about the abuse, about the incidents that didn't leave a visible mark on him. He told her about the time Gabe knocked him unconscious after tossing him too hard into a wall. And the time the man broke his nose by throwing a book Percy had left on the kitchen table before a poker night. The words flowed from his lips like a spring rushing to leave as quickly as possible. Stories he had long forgotten came to the surface, ones he hadn't even told his mom about. The way her fingers gently kneaded into his lower back and the frequent kisses she pressed into his hair comforted him in a way he hadn't felt before. Once he finished telling her about what he knew Gabe would do to him for wrecking his car, Percy didn't quite know what else to say.

“Annabeth,” he asked, quiet and meek. The brokenness of his voice pierced her heart. “Please. Say something,” he begged.

“I'm gonna murder him,” Annabeth confessed with the confidence of a girl who had stared down Titans and won. “I'm gonna kill him for ever laying a hand on you.”

“You aren't ashamed of me? Hero of Olympus and I let some mortal bast-”

Her lips fell on his silencing him. He clutched her to him, kissing her with a desperation he hadn't felt since Silena had called telling him to bring a healer for her during the Titan War. His hand gripped her pulling her tightly against him and pressing into her own lower back, the same spot as his Achilles heel. The warmth of his hand against her exposed skin was the most comforting gesture she'd ever experienced making her wonder if that was the feeling she gave him every time her hand touched his back. Slowly, she backed out of the kiss stroking his cheek, her intense gaze penetrating his soul.

“You didn’t let him do anything. You were a kid, Percy. He was an adult, a parent figure in your life, someone you should have been able to trust and feel safe with. And, gods, you were just a kid. My stepmother never liked me, but I never felt unsafe with her. I can't even imagine.”

She pulled Percy back to her, clinging to him. Someone had hurt her precious seaweed brain when he was defenseless, and it made her sick that she hadn't been able to protect him. Anger couldn't quite cover the feeling boiling in her blood. Nine years of combat training and she wanted nothing more than to use every bit of it on this scum.

“I know you have questions,” he sighed reluctantly pulling away to look at her. Her face was flushed from anger, and tears swelled in her eyes. He hated being the one to put that look of mixed concern and anger on her beautiful face. “It's okay. I owe you answers.”

For once, and she would never admit it aloud, Annabeth wasn't sure she wanted answers. Her mouth worked up and down, searching for questions that wouldn't come.

“You don't owe me anything. You don't have to say anything you don't want to.”

“I want to,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “I mean, I want you to ask whatever you want to know.”

“Why did you never tell me?” she whispered, asking the question that hurt the most. It wasn't that she thought he owed her anything, but after opening up to him, to only him, about her own family life, it stung to think he hadn't trusted her with this. As soon as she thought it, she swallowed the idea guiltily. It was selfish to think she was entitled to know that part of him just because she had opened up to him about her own trauma. She did think now, however, he would have been comfortable enough with her to tell her.

“How do you even start a conversation like that? 'Hey Annabeth, it's been a month since I survived my death date, wanna hear about my bastard ex-stepfather that used to beat the shit out of me? I think it's a good second date conversation.' Doesn't exactly pair well with dinner and movie, does it?”

“Percy-”

“I know,” he sighed wearily giving her hands an apologetic squeeze. “I know. I should have- I just. I never knew how. I almost told you in the zoo truck but then we stopped by the time I got the courage. And when I got back again, well he was gone. It was over. I wasn't trying to keep it from you, I swear. It just never came up until now.”

Another thought, a worry, suddenly made her stomach drop. She dropped one of his hands to traced his cheek.

“When I've punched you or teased, I wasn't. I mean I hope I didn't-”

“Annabeth I know you were just messing with me. I never took it as anything but that, promise. So don't you dare stop calling me Seaweed Brain now, Wise Girl.” He gave her a smile that melted her worries. Of course, he would be trying to make her feel better in a time like this.

“Well, in that case, Seaweed brain, we should probably get off the floor,” she suggested.

Until she mentioned it, Percy hadn't registered they had been sitting on the floor of his room the entire time. Somehow, it felt like an appropriate place for the early morning confession, oddly intimate and undisturbed. But, his back didn't necessarily agree, stiff from sitting cross-legged on the floor for however long had passed. And if he was stiff even in his invincible skin, he knew it must be worse for Annabeth.

She slowly pushed herself up before offering a hand to him pulling him up with her. After urging him into his bed, she crawled in beside him and pulled him back into her arms, not quite ready to let go. Her fingers raked through his smooth locks almost habitually. It truly amazed her how easily things came with Percy. The repetitive motion satisfied her ADHD enough to let her mind kick into overdrive and process the last few hours.

Percy had been through more than she could even imagine, more than ever should have been asked of him. Being the key component in a Titan war couldn't be enough for the Fates. Suffering through four years of non-stop quests wasn't bad enough. Her sweet, caring boyfriend had to go through such a harsh mortal childhood to add to the already crushing pressures of being a demigod. Suddenly, her fingers stilled as another question came unbarring to mind. He called her name, nervous at how suddenly she tensed.

The girl spared a nervous glance to the hall before asking, “Did your mom know?”

“I think she suspected a time or two, but I never told her. Gabe said he'd kill her if I ever told anyone. I wasn't taking that chance.”

“I don't understand why she would let him stay if she even thought he might be hurting you,” she murmured, glancing nervously again toward the door.

Nothing about it made sense. Annabeth loved Sally, even wishing to have her as a mother or stepmother instead, and she knew the woman adored her son. Allowing Gabe to stay when he was hurting her son was something Annabeth couldn't rationalize with the Sally that made cookies whenever she came by and fussed over them both after every quest.

“She was protecting me from monsters,” Percy quietly explained. “Gabe, his smell-”

“Repelled monsters. It hid your scent,” she finished for him. “I've read about that. Some mortals are so monstrous themselves, their scent can actually repel monsters. That's how you stayed hidden for so long even as a big three kid.” The confused anger morphed into marvel at Sally's brilliance, protecting her son how she could. Even as terrible as it was, the abuse was likely the only thing that kept Percy alive all those years.

“He would hit her too,” he said in defense of his mom. “Broke her wrist once that I know of not that she'd tell me it was him. I only know of a few times, but I'm sure she got it worse since she had to always be here with him. I tried to get him to stop, but there wasn't much I could do when I was at boarding school. And once I knew I was a half-blood, knew how to defend myself. Well, she turned him into stone. Remember Medusa's head? Dad apparently returned to sender. ”

Suddenly Annabeth had a deeper appreciation for her boyfriend's mother. She always knew the woman was strong, but this was a different level of strength. Annabeth hoped one day to be half the woman Sally Jackson was.

As his breathing evened out, she pressed a kiss to his head and tried to detangled herself to go back to bed. As she slid her legs over the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around her painfully tight pulling her back.

“Stay with me” he whispered timidly. She hesitated though.

“Percy that was your mom's only rule for me,” she protested, but the sad, broken look undid her completely. And it would be well worth the lecture just for that bright smile he flashed her when she told him to move over. His head nestled into the hollow of her shoulder as she continued stroking his dark hair. He was asleep in no time with his arms wrapped around Annabeth securing him to this better time.

And when Sally found Annabeth curled protectively around her son the next morning, she didn't have the heart to scold them at breakfast for breaking her single house rule. After the events of the previous night, she was glad Percy had found someone so fiercely protective as his girlfriend. She didn't have to worry about her baby boy when Annabeth had his back.

Now, of course, that didn't stop Sally from teasing the pair when they emerged from his room later that morning holding hands.

A/N: So this story has two pieces of art that helped inspire parts of it, one by WindByFire and the other by burgy so shout out to them for producing such amazing art!

If you'd like to see the pieces, they are posted on my IG by the same username (mainly because I am new on tumblr and don't know how to properly post and credit art here yet). Definitely go check out all of their artwork!

[ghostdrew22]

The King || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: alcohol, flufffff

WORDS : 1533

~~~

Song - The King by Conan Gray

"But I'm the only one that can make you feel right. I'm the only one that you think of at night." "You like me, well obviously. So why you trying to leave when you know that I'm the King? Cause I'm supreme, choose me." "And you can have your fun cause I know that it's fake. I know when you're done you'll come running my way."

~~~

Draco Malfoy takes a sip of his drink as he watches Y/N dancing across the room- Ronald Weasley has got his hands on her hips and she's grinding them against him. If this was a few months ago then Draco would have gone mad with envy- he might've even punched Ron in the face- but he's learned his lesson now.

Everything with Y/N is a game- she makes moves and he makes countermoves- because that's the way that she likes it. She will focus all of her attention on Draco for a week or two then she'll move onto someone else until she gets bored of them and ends up in Draco's arms again- he's the only constant in the array of Hogwarts students that she's hooked up with.

"Why are you so obsessed with this girl? She's clearly not that into you." Blaise lectures his best friend as he follows the blonde's eyeline to Y/N.

"You don't know what you're talking about Blaise."

"You need to give this up."

"I'm playing the long game."

He finally decides that he's bored of watching and puts his glass down- getting off the couch so that he can walk toward the pair. Y/N's eyes light up at the sight of Draco and she turns to face Ron so that she can whisper something in his ear. His face drops but he nods and leaves anyway- knowing that this is how things with Y/N always go.

"Weaselbee? Really?" Draco raises his eyebrows as he approaches Y/N. She rolls her eyes- pulling Draco toward her to dance- and groans.

"He's fucking annoying."

"Then why were you with him?" He chuckles.


"Nice hands." She shrugs- not having a legitimate reason for being with Ron.

Draco knows her habits- she finds someone that she wouldn't like under normal circumstances and spends the night with them, then the very next morning she's by his side and complaining again- so the fact that she didn't actually like Ron doesn't surprise him. "Better than mine?" He lowers his hands to her hips and pulls her closer so that their faces are only inches apart.

"You know that no one's better than you." She giggles, "But a girl can dream." She starts to pull away- wanting to sit down or grab a drink, anything that isn't being this close to Draco again. He's like a drug that she just can't seem to give up.

"But why dream when you already know that I'm the only one who can make you feel right?"  He grabs her wrist and pulls her back into his chest with a smirk. "I know that I'm the one you think of at night."

"Cocky much?" She scoffs.

"Am I wrong?" He whispers into her ear as they dance, "Hermione, Ron, Cho, Theo, Percy, the list goes on. But it seems that none of them made you feel right."

"And what makes you think that you did?"

"Because I'm the one that has you in their arms."

"Oh come on." She rolls her eyes. "Why would I need other people if you were enough?"

"Because you're scared."

"Of what?"

"The fact that you're in love with me."

"What?" She laughs and pulls away from him completely- putting space between them. "That's a reach."

"Is it? Because you obviously like me." He smirks and crosses his arms. "You wouldn't keep me around otherwise."

"Maybe you're my boy-toy."

"No, that-" Draco points toward Ron across the room, "Is your boy-toy."

"I can have more than one."

"And I'm included in that?"

"Maybe." She shrugs her shoulders with a grin.

"Oh." He nods inquisitively, "So you have no feelings for me at all?"

"Nope."

"Good to know."

"Why?"

"Because," He smirks and brings his head down till his mouth is right next to hear. "Now I can go fuck Parkinson." He whispers and pulls away before immediately turning away from her and making his way toward Pansy. "Parkinson!"

Y/N feels her throat go dry at the sight of Draco grabbing onto Pansy's hips and dragging her to dance. She watches them intently until Draco lowers his lips to Pansy's ear- the way he'd done with Y/N only minutes before- and whispers something that has her giggling uncontrollably. She decides that she's had enough and walks toward the door so that she can return to her dorm.

~~~

"You're so daft Y/N." Pansy huffs as she stares at the clearly frustrated girl beside her. They'd met in the library for their usual study session and Y/N had refused to look Pansy's way the entire time.

"What?"

"I'm gay." Pansy chuckles and Y/N raises her eyebrows at Pansy- who shrugs. "You never asked."

"Fair point." Y/N mumbles back.

"Draco was just using me to get a reaction out of you."

"Oh."

"And clearly he succeeded."

"No, he didn't." Y/N mumbles.

"You can't say that after you spent an hour staring daggers at me." Pansy laughs again and gives Y/N a soft smile, "The two of you are so clearly head-over-heels for each other, just get together."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I.." She sighs, "I don't know."

"I think you do." Pansy mumbles as she gets up and rubs the other girl's shoulder before leaving.

~~~

Y/N marches toward Draco's dorm in frustration- ready to yell galore. She reaches his door and knocks roughly until he finally opens it for her.

"Why are you like this?"

"What?" He asks sleepily- rubbing his eyes slightly to wake himself up.

"Why do you have to be so persistent?" She pushes her way past him and walks into his room, "I keep trying to get you out of my system but it isn't working." 
"Y/N, what-"

"And you're always there! Every time shit hits the fan- you're there comforting me like it's your job. But I didn't ask you to!"

"So you're mad at me for caring about you?" He raises his eyebrows at her in confusion.

"Yes!" She exclaims in an exasperated tone as she turns to start pacing around his room. "I've spent the last few months just waiting for you to move on- like everybody else does- but you keep coming back and I just don't understand why."

"Y/N-"

"Shut up, I'm still talking." She retorts at him and he raises his hands in apology. "It's not something that I'm used to- people caring about me- and it's so fucking difficult for me to accept that you do because I..."

"You what?"

"I love it. I love the way being important to you makes me feel." She runs her hands down her face in frustration. "And I hate that because... what happens when you leave me the way everyone else does? What am I going to do when you realise that you don't want me?"

Silence encapsulates them and he watches her curiously as she stops pacing and stares at the ground- her breaths ragged.

"I keep kissing strangers- trying to convince myself that they're you but it just doesn't work. No one is you."

"I'm me." He breathes out- moving toward her slowly as the tension between them thickens.

"Don't do this, Draco. I don't think I can take it." She takes a step back away from him.

"Do what?"

"This," She says- gesturing between them, "Where you act like this and I have to pretend that I'm not in love with you."

"You're in love with me?"

She laughs coldly, "How slow can you possibly be?" Her eyes pry off the floor and move to catch Draco's in an intense gaze. "I'm head-over-heels in love with you. If I was a glass, I'd be full to the brim with love for you."

"You don't act like it- always finding ways to get away from me."


"Because you touch me and it feels like my skin is on fire, you look at me and I feel like I'm going to melt into the ground. If I don't find ways to get away from you then I'm afraid I'll combust."

"Then come on," He holds his hand out to her, "Let's combust together."

"I can-"

"Merlin," He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, "You just bared your heart and soul out to me and you are still trying to find a way out of this?"

"Dra-"

"Do you think that you're the only one struggling in this? Because you're so fucking wrong if you do." He steps toward her, "I have to watch you hop from person to person- knowing that you're probably fucking them the same way that you've fucked me- and just pretend like I don't want to bash all of their heads in. And I know that it's fake- that you don't actually like any of them- but I still have that fear tugging at me, the fear that one of these people will be enough for you. And it takes every ounce of strength in me to not scream at you to just choose me."

"I'm scared." She whispers as her eyes watch his face warily- worried that her knees will buckle if she stares too long.

"I am too and if this love ends in fire then I will gladly burn down with it." He finally lands in front of her and looks down into her eyes with passion coursing through his veins. "But I'm tired of pretending that we're not meant for each other."

"Okay." She nods and intertwines their fingers with a small smile, "Then let's combust together." She whispers before crashing their lips together.

[yamithediaperdork]

A Bet can be costly (Percy Jackson)

A bet can be costly

It was only half past nine in the morning and already Percy and Jason were bored while hanging out in the latter's cabin. True it somewhat helped that Jason had somehow swung getting a TV and cable while even Percy despite being the son of one of the big three didn't but still there was just nothing on that held either boys attention for long.

Of course Percy despite his claims of being strait and sighting the fact he was dating Annabeth as proof of said straightness he found himself looking over at Jason who was in just his black shorts and nothing else as he relaxed on the cream colored sofa that the two boys where sharing.

Jason might of been younger but he was well more build compared to Percy who while wasn't fat or even chunky, was as ripped as the demi god next to him.

"Ughhhh, there is NOTHING to do.." Jason groaned and shut the tv off, leaning back and closing his eyes, then smirking and turning to look at Percy as he opened them. "Well almost nothing, but I don't think you're man enough for a little bet I have in mind."

Percy huffed a little at that, ever since he'd been caught with wet pants during a party, everyone had started to treat him like a little guy, even though he had to be one of the most hung guys there!

(Well at least he thought so, it wasn't exactly like he went around and measured everyone else's ding dongs.)

"I can take on any bet you have in mind!" he said and crossed his arms.

'heh, gotcha~' Jason thought and then flashed his pearly whites at Percy.

"Alright, but if you don't wanna take the bet even after I say it, don't feel bad alright?" Jason said, and waited for Percy, who was getting somewhat fussy to nod in agreement.

"Ok buddy, The bet is simple enough.. we're gonna drop our pants and compare cock sizes. Whoever is bigger wins, and the loser has to be the winner little boy for the summer, and do whatever he's told."

"..Where you dropped on your head as a child?" Percy asked, raising a eyebrow but then smirking. "But Fine, you're gonna look sooo cute as my little boy Jason. It's you who might wanna back down, I'm packing some major heat here." Percy said and patted his crotch.

'..Ok he's just asking for a cuddle now. just too cute.' Jason thought then out loud went "Well Mr.Jackson, if you're so sure of yourself go right ahead."

"heh, Wanna spare yourself the humiliation huh? I'll let you keep your modesty." Percy said, really full of himself now as he stood up and started to tug down his black jogging pants. "Your about to see why Annabeth walks funny every time she comes over to my cabin~"

with his pants around his ankles and his plaid boxer's on display, Percy hooked his thumbs in the waistband and shot Jason a shit eating grin.

"Last chance to back out, though I hope you don't. you're gonna look fucking adorable in a sailor suit on the beach making me sand castles."

"Sheesh you trying to be a Pro wrestler with all that trash talking, shut up and show me what you got." Jason laughed, the sheer attuide coming from Percy was just too cute, double so when he knew a few things about Annabeth that Percy didn't.

Smirking Percy dropped his shorts and showed off all 7 inches of his fuck meat, not as thick as he would of liked but it got the job done and his pubes were neatly trimmed , almost a buzz cut.

"Face it Jason, your F'ed in the A." Percy said, reaching down and stroking his semi soft cock and gaining a half inch as it went to full on stiff mode.

"Oh my~ That IS quite impressive Percy, way more then I thought a pants pisser would of had." Jason said and stood up, hooking his thumbs in his shorts. it was well known he went commando so there would be no build up here. "Too bad it's still not enough."

"What?" Percy asked, looking confused and then Jason's shorts hit the floor and a soft 8 inch cock was looking back at Percy, at least TWICE the thickness of Percy's proud fuck meat!

"But, wait, there's more!" Jason said in his best TV infomercial voice, and with a couple of pumps his cock jumped up to 10 inches and was leaking a little cock drool.

"H-Holy fuck!" Percy squeaked.

"So do we need the measuring tape? or compare them side by side or do you wanna be a good boy and take your shirt off so big brother can get you dressed little man?" Jason asked.

"ah..ah..about that..see..I uh..I was totally kidding about making you do anything.." Percy was saying, trying to back away from Jason now with his pants and undies around his ankles. "T-this was all just a silly joke so I don't think we reall-"

"Percy, I'm going to ask one more time, for you to finish striping, or you'll be going over my lap little man." Jason said, bending down and tugging his shorts back up.

"Well ok, when you put it that way that soun- LOOK A DISTRACTION!" Percy yelled and pointed behind Jason and then went to run, instantly tripping and boinking his face off the floor since he hadn't kicked the clothes off.

"heh..I can see you're going to be a handful." Jason said and walked over and picked the dazed Percy up.

"I can taste purple!" Percy coo'ed.

"-snek-, I bet you can."

After making sure that Percy wasn't concussed, Jason waited for a few for the poor soon to be little guy to get his marbles back, and when Percy did he'd find himself over Jason's lap, a firm hand on his lower back to keep Percy from taking off.

The boy had been stripped naked by this point and Jason had made sure his cabin was far enough away from the water to keep Percy from using any of his powers, plus his own taps and water tank were enchanted to 'help keep Percy honest'.

"i.. what... Ah!" Percy yelped as he came to his sense and realized the situation he was in.

"welcome back buddy." Jason said, rubbing his free hand on Percy's bubble butt, almost kneeing the semi fatty flesh of the older boys butt. "Never knew you had so much junk in your trunk!"

"S-Shut up!" Huffed Percy even as he fought to get free, but it was clear who of the two was the stronger and a sudden SWAT to his ample back side (when made a ripple to Jason's delight) stopped him.

"J-J-Jason...Big Brother..I-if I promise to be good, can we skip th-" Percy started.

"Sorry buddy, I don't wanna do this anymore then you wanna be spanked." Jason started, a bold face lie but still. "But you need to learn if your not a good boy there is a fallout. I'll only go with 10 swats THIS time and hopefully you won't make me punish you more."

Percy whimpered, giving a weak token effort to get free but Jason could tell he had more or less accepted his fate and in a small way made Jason hate he STILL had to follow though.

Figuring it was better to get this over with Jason brought his hand down hard on Percy's cheeks, making the demi god guy out and kick his legs.

before Percy could even fully process that swat the second was already happened, Jason wanted this to be fast and hard.

He was all of five swats in, and Percy was blubbering like a baby, his hot tears flowing freely when he felt Percy stiffen on his lap.

"JASON STAP I HAF-" Percy started to warn and then..

well Jason was glad he'd pick a bar stool he had for the spanking as his lap and legs were drenched and a smelly puddle was made as Percy's bladder unloaded itself.

"I-I'm sorry please don't spank me morrrrre!" Percy sobbed.

Jason, despite being soaked in his little guys wee wee, just tugged Percy up and hugged him, wincing slightly as the bawling Percy got snot all over his shoulder while glomping him.

'Yeah..we're gonna share a shower.' he thought.

One wash up later and Jason and Percy were cleaned and dried off, with Jason in a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt while Percy was just wrapped up in a big fluffy towel whining softly still.

As it had turned out Percy was NOT a fan of showers, and had wanted to go for a bath despite Jason pointing out how bad of a idea that would of been. Having to put his foot down Jason had been forced to threaten anther trip over his knee to get Percy into said shower.

Now with Jason dressed it was Percy's turn and Jason rummaged though a dresser drawer and came out with a perfect little guy outfit made to Percy's size, clearly he had been planning this for awhile.

Said outfit was a pair of white socks with little anchor designs in dark silver all over them, a pair of briefs likewise with the anchors on them and then following up from that, a pair of cream white shorts and a sailor top.

"..How long have you been-" Percy started to ask.

"long enough, now lay back and let big bro get you dressed. and try not to have anymore accidents little man." Jason chuckled, and smirked as Percy huffed and stuck his tongue out at him.

"You shouldn't stick out your tongue, only snakes and fools do that and snakes don't have arms and legs so you must be a fool~" Jason teased.

"Oh WHATEVER!" Percy fumed and went to stick his tongue out again, but seemed to think better of it.

Once the little guy was all dressed, Jason helped him stand up and kissed his forehead, Making Percy whine and squirm and lead him over to a mirror so he could look at himself, adding a little sailor cap to his head and smirking.

"...I look like a oversized 5 year old!" Percy whined, cheeks going bright red and huffing and squirming.

"That WAS what I was aiming for." Jason chuckled and smooched Percy's cheek, getting even more fussy whines from the newly turned little. "Your gonna look SO cute on the bench making me sand castles and I have a cute little swim suit for you and everything!"

"..why do i get the feeling even if I had won, you would of just found a way to little me anyways?" Percy whined.

"Heh, that kinda foresight would of served you well about half a hour ago little bro."

Leading the huffing Percy back out to the living room, Jason set out a blanket on the floor for the little guy and then as Percy sat there silent fuming, he brought over a cardboard box and set it down.

Percy peeked into the box and it was half filled with toy's that he was sure would of delighted any 4-7 year old but only made him roll his eyes and look up at Jason.

"Really?" he asked Jason."Even if I hadn't of stopped playing with toys years ago, i was more into action figures then stuffies and toy cars and boats."

"Well since video games are a no no for little guys like you and ditto for action figures, you better learn to like these." Jason chuckled.

"What? why can't I have action figures?!" Percy demanded, never mind he had JUST said he wasn't into them anymore.

"Too many little pieces that could come off when you chew on them." Jason chuckled and patted the top of Percy's hat covered head.

"I DON'T CHEW ON TOYS!" Percy semi shouted and huffed.

"That's nottttt what your mom said when I was getting her help with this." Jason said in a sing song voice. "she told me you had teeth marks all over your old power rangers toys.

"Slander and lies! ..WAIT MY MOM WAS IN ON THIS?!?" Percy shrieked.

"Heh, oh yeah. wants pictures and warned me if I make you feel too little to be ready to diaper you at night."

Percy's right eye twitched and then he went on a incoherent screaming and shouting fit that Jason let go on, just to get it out of Percy's system and was amazed it took about 10 minutes before Percy stopped, panting and huffing, spittle running down his chin.

"You wanna try that again, this time in English so I can actually understand what you say?" Jason asked, grinning ear to ear.

by the time Percy was done, Jason had tallied that normally he would of earned about four mouth washings and at least one trip over his lap, but again, was letting the little guy get one punishment free vent in.

"Free better?" Jason asked as Percy huffed and pouted.

"..Kinda."

"Good, that's the last time I'm putting up with a fit like that Percy, so I hope you got it all out of your system. next time you'll be treated like any other five year old who has a tantrum." Jason said.

"..what does that mean?" Percy asked, gulping. "A time out in the corner?"

"well a time out is part of it, but you'll find this isn't some new age parenting place. Here at camp half blood, we believe in spanking naughty little boys and girls." Jason said and the look on his face left no doubt he meant it.

"..Oh poopie." Percy whimpered.

"Really Percy? stand up and let me check. I don't smell anything." Jason said with a chuckle.

"T-That's not what I meannnnnt!"

after his twin rants and everything else, it was just about lunch time so after getting Percy to start playing with his toy cars, even though Percy looked bored out of his mind, Jason started to cook up some lunch for the boys.

"Percy, I don't hear you playing..you being good over there?" Jason called over his shoulder, cutting up some potato's to make them fries to go with the grilled cheese he was gonna make.

Percy almost snarled out a reply but the threat of a spanking was in the back of his mind and instead..

"Yeah I'm being good, I don't know how to make the cars make enough noise to convince you though." Percy said.

"oh well thats simple. Make the engine noises. go vrhoom vrhoom." Jason chuckled.

"...you are a sick sick man, you know that?" Percy asked, but knowing when he was licked, started to do the noises just like 'big brother' wanted.

blushing the whole time and feeling foolish.

'I suppose it could be worse, no one else is here. and he'll have to get tired of this before long.' Percy thought.

Of course with the way Percy's luck was going he wasn't exactly surprised when right as he thought that, the doorbell rang.

"Percy buddy, can you be a good boy and go answer the door? big bro has his hands full." Jason called.

Huffing and getting up, Percy semi stomped his way over to the door to Jason's cabin, never once realizing with his bratty attuide he seemed less like someone who didn't wanna show off his outfit and more like a huffy little guy who didn't wanna stop playing.

Opening the door without checking to see who was there, Percy entered a full body blush as his girlfriend was standing there, looking amused.

"A-Annabeth!! W-what are you doing over here?" He squeaked.

"Pfffttt, Oh my god, Jason actually got you to do it! this is too good!" She giggled. "I've known he wanted to dress you up for awhile but never in a million years would I of thought you'd -actually- do it!"

the clear amusement in her voice and the big grin on her face had Percy feeling like the little boy he was dressed up as and he squirmed and whined loudly.

"Percy! Who's at the door?" Jason called.

"I..I..It's.." Percy stammered.

"It's Annabeth!" Annabeth called over Percy's shoulder.

"Percy, don't be rude, Invite her in." Jason called.

the last thing that Percy wanted was for his girlfriend to come in but clearly it was out of his hands, so instead he looked down at the floor and then stood to the side, gesturing for her to come in.

'Dad, if your listening..I could really use a tidal wave right about now.' Percy thought.

Sadly, Either seaweed daddy wasn't listening or found this whole thing to be funny as Annabeth walked in and spotted Percy's play area, squealing with delight and laughing.

the next 20 or so minutes was spent with Annabeth 'looking after little Percy' and keeping him out of trouble while Jason made them all lunch.

As bad as playing cars and having to make the noises had been before when it was just for Jason, it was so very much worst doing it for the amusement of his girlfriend who kept asking humiliating questions, and 'Big brother' insisted that he answer them all.

"Awww are you having fun?" She coo'ed as she sat back on the couch.

"..Oh yes, Loads." Percy huffed sarcastically though to his dismay she took it as a honest answer.

"Well that's good! So which car is your favorite?" and she leaned forward now, studying the different types of toy cars.

"...I dunno, I guess the police car?" Percy said and semi shrugged his shoulders, and squirming from all of the embarrassment he was receiving.

"Heh, lots of little guys like cop cars, that makes since. Hmm..Your squirming a lot, do you need to use the potty? we don't want you to have a accident!" Annabeth said, looking mildly concerned though still grinning.

"I-I don't need help telling when I hafa potty!" Percy almost shrieked.

"Heh, tell that to the damp spot on the floor from your accident eariler." Jason called.

"Ohhh, did somebody wet his pants?" Annabeth giggled, looking totally delighted.

"I-It wasn't my fault! Jason was spanking me a-and I ju-" Percy tried to argue but got cut off.

"Oh, why did he have to spank you? were you being a bad boy?" She asked, leaning in close, eyes filled with excitement as she brushed her hair behind a ear. "Did you cry lots and lots and beg big brother to stop?"

Percy was having all sorts of warning bells going off in his head at how excited she seemed by this and just shut his mouth and crossed his arms turning away from him.

"Oh you did! Ahahahaha! Wow, spanked into submission by someone younger then you~" She teased, then got up. "Well all that aside, I don't believe you Mr.fussy pants, so come on, let's take you to the potty."

"NO! I don't have to!" Percy huffed, and winced, he HEARD how little he sounded.

"Percy, you come with me to the potty and try little man or I'll get Jason to do it. who do you think is gonna be nicer about it?" Annabeth asked.

"She's got a point buddy." Jason called over, he was almost done with the fries and grilled cheese that was gonna be supper. "Also you've had your mulligan, any more accidents and you'll be losing big boy underwear privileges."

"..You mean it gets worse then these baby briefs?!" Percy yelped out.

"Yup~ Normally next step down would be pull-ups but I couldn't find any in your size so right back to diapers." Jason called and turned and smirked. "So.. still think your good or wanna hedge your bets and go sit on the potty?"

"...I'm going to the potty because -I- choose to!" Percy huffed and scrambled to his feet.

"Mmmhmmm, whatever you have to tell yourself little man." Jason said and turned back to the cooking.

Annabeth had stood up as well and offered Percy a hand, and while he wanted to slap it away, somehow he just knew how that would end and accepted it.

"..Your waiting outside the door while I go." was the only thing Percy could think to say.

It never dawned on him that despite never being to Jason's cabin before, she seemed to know exactly where the bathroom was, though in his defense she was keeping him off guard.

"Oh my, such a big boy, going all by yourself.. Deal but remember to wipe and wash your hands."

'fuck my life..'

sitting on the potty Percy was mentally counting down how long he should play along with the potty game when he was shocked that a stream did escape him, followed by a couple of wet farts.

As such after the boy had wiped and flushed and washed his hands, his face was somehow even more crimson then before.

Not helping matters was Annabeth praising him for being a good boy and holding up a hand for a high five which Percy weakly returned.

Getting back out to the main room the table had been set and while Annabeth's and Jason's plate sat on the white table cloth, Percy's on was on top of a plastic mat shaped like a teddy bear.

when Percy whined and pointed Jason just gave a big toothy grin.

"Sorry buddy, but I've seen you eat, you're a messy eater and it's easier to wipe the plastic mat clean then to wash the table cloth. Oh! that reminds me.." Jason said as Percy fumed and took his seat.

His grilled cheese had been cut into four parts for him and his ketchup for his fries were in a little plastic bowl to the side. He was about to comment he wasn't that bad when Jason produced a teen sized bib,white in color with navy blue text on it reading 'I love my big brother!'

"..Your joking right?" Percy asked, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Jason while Annabeth covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"What, you don't like it?" Jason asked, pretending to sound hurt while smirking.

"What do you think?" Percy asked.

"well ok, you don't HAVE to wear the bib if you don't want to, but if your not wearing it, i want you to strip down to your undies so you don't get your new outfit all dirty buddy." Jason chuckled.

"...Give me the effing bib." Percy growled though clenched teeth.

"Ah ah ah, none of that, that was too close to a swear word for my liking. try that again and your be a little bubble breath. also, as your loving big brother." and Annabeth couldn't hold it in and laughed out loud. "..It's my job to get this on you."

"..Of course it is."

Percy's one mulligan as the bib was put on him was that his drink was at least in a cup, though Jason noticed him looking at it as he finished.

"Ok buddy, I'm taking a chance and trusting you with a big kid cup. but if you spill it, it's back to sippy cups. Or if you wanna just use one now that's ok too. you don't have to put on a show for our guest." Jason said.

A swear was almost out of his mouth when Percy caught himself, and biting down on his tongue, he just ignored Jason and started to chow down on his fries, planing to eat in silence.

However much like most of his other plans for the day, this one fell to the wayside as while Jason and Annabeth started to chow, Jason asked Percy what he'd been pretending was happening while he played with his cars.

The tone in Jason's voice made it clear Percy better come up with something quick, and so the newly turned little boy spun a tale about some cops trying to bust a smuggling ring of counterfeit toys.Percy was getting annoyed though that despite how much of a excellent bullshit story he was weaving on the spot, Jason and Annabeth were apparently distracted and ignoring him.

the only time they seemed to chime in or respond to what he was saying was when he went quiet for too long.

what the Demi god turned little guy couldn't of known though since he lacked X-ray vision was that there was a good reason the two of them were semi ignoring Percy, except to encourage him to go on between his bites of food.

Jason and Annabeth were playing footsie under the table and sending each other signals of shared attraction.

What little Percy didn't know yet, but would find out all too soon was that Annabeth had been over to this cabin more then a few times, having hooked up with Jason while Percy was off being a good boy for his mom.

The idea of cucking the son of one of the big three had just been too much of a temptation to pass up, and it had been going on far longer then Percy himself would of guessed.

She had even faked being too sick to go out with him on his birthday, just to come over and get fucked by Jason, who had truthfully ruined sex with Percy for her but she still put on a show.

The moment that let her always squirt the hardest when neither boy was available though was how she had tricked Percy into eating her out, while blindfolded after Jason had cream pied her. she claimed the funny taste was a sugar cream she had picked up from a sex shop and Jason had been there, watching from the closet as Percy licked and slurped her clean, making her moan even as the poor boys face had been screwed up.

Clearly he hadn't cared for the taste but whenever Annabeth moaned and asked how he liked it, he would reply with a choked

"I-It tastes awesome..y-you should get more."

That had made her squirt right then and there and breathlessly after, she promised Percy she would.

She hadn't even returned the favor, just had Percy climb into bed with her and removed the blind fold once Jason was out the door, cuddling him and stroking him off and on so that in the middle of the night Percy had been forced to sneak off to the bathroom and jerk off, not knowing Annabeth was awake and could hear everything from her bed.

Percy finished his food and his drink, and let out a loud Belch as he finished his story, Annabeth and Jason had finished before him but stayed seated to 'listen' to his 'amazing' story.

"Wow buddy, you have a activate imagination!" Jason coo'ed, pulling his feet away from Annabeth and giving Percy his full attention and smirking.

Of course the sea brat had gotten ketchup on his face and fingers, and on his bib. add into it that while Jason and Annabeth had been drinking root beer Percy was sporting a purple kool-aid mustache and Jupiter, he just looked so cute!

"Heh, hold still buddy, I think somebody needs a quick clean up." Jason laughed, getting up and getting a damp wash cloth and rubbing over Percy's face as the little guy squirmed.

"Stopppp! I can do it my selfff!" He whined, making Annabeth snort.

Did Percy really not hear just how much of a little guy he sound like right now?!

Either way, over his own protests he was cleaned up and given anther drink of grape juice, though this time it was in a light blue sippy cup.

And boy, if looks could kill Jason would of hit the floor stone cold dead.

"I THOUGHT you said I could use big kid cups!" Percy huffed, furrowing his brow and once again looking like the little guy he was dressed up as.

"well your gonna go back to playing while me and Annabeth watch some TV and I don't want you getting too excited playing cops that you knock over your drink without realizing it." Jason said reasonably.

"I wouldn't!" Percy whined.

"well maybe you would, maybe you wouldn't, It's my floor so I get to make the call. when we're over at YOUR place you can knock all the cups over you want." Jason said and smirked, then tapped a finger on Percy's nose.

Leading Percy over to his blanket, Jason got him sat down and noticed Annabeth tapping her chin as she looked down.

"Penny for you thoughts." He said.

"I was thinking, you know that old play mat, where it's a toy and it's toy car sized? we should get one of those for Percy!" She said grinning ear to ear.

"I think-" Percy started to say, not looking happy but he was of course cut off by Jason.

"That's a awesome idea! In fact I think Nico has one still, I'll go see if we can borrow it later!" Jason said smiling and turning to Percy. "Doesn't Annabeth have the BEST ideas little guy?"

"I can barely contain my joy." Percy muttered, huff and holding his sippy cup up and taking a drink before he said more and got his mouth washed out.

with the TV turned on Percy tried to get into the movie that Jason had popped in, but it was some sort of a romantic comedy and he hated those and found himself legit getting into playing with the cars, talking softly to himself and not realizing he was talking out loud as he did a few more police chases, then had a whole story going on about a big race going on.

He found himself drinking lots of the kool-aid, it was really sweet but seemed to dry him out and more then once he had to go and excuse himself to go pee (though Jason or Annabeth insisted on walking down with him to the bathroom, just in case he needed help)

he also found himself getting super tired despite having a good nights sleep, though he chalked it up to everything he had been though so far and laid on his tummy and put himself on eye level with the car's as he ran them back and forth, watching the shiny metal of the the hub caps move and feeling his eyelids drooping.

"Percy buddy, you wanna go for a nap?" Jason called over, pausing the movie, making Percy sit up. he'd shut his eyes for a few seconds.

"Nooo I don't need a nap." Percy huffed and whined.rubbing a fist under one eye.

"Well you were laying there with your eyes closed for about a minute." Annabeth pointed out.

"wasn't sleeping..I was..checking my eyelids for cracks!" Percy huffed, pouting, and taking anther gulp of his juice.

"well ok, if you say so. if you wanna go for a nap it's ok though." Jason said, smirking.

"What EVER." Percy huffed and laid back down switching to one of the toy boat's and laying on his back, moving it in the air now.

he played with the boat for all of 30 seconds before his eyes closed again and soon the 18 year old going on 4 at best was snoring softly on the floor.

"Sheesh, I thought you said you were only gonna give him a light dose of sleeping pills." Annabeth said softly, leaning in and kissing Jason's cheek.

"I didn't. Sea brat is just a lightweight. still, we better move to the other room if he snores as bad as you say." Jason said.

as some deep snores started to come out, the cuck'ed demi god was left on the floor to sleep it off, though before Annabeth and Jason went to go and play 'hide the pickle' they were nice enough to drape a blanket over Percy and get a pillow under his head, setting his hat on the coffee table.

Kissing and mashing lips, Jason and Annabeth almost didn't make it to his bedroom before they were all over each other, she was trying to pull off his shirt as she pressed him against the wall.

"Some one's needy." Jason teased, though he only had slightly more restraint then her.

"I haven't had a real orgasm in 2 days..you turned me into a nympho, take responsibility for it!" Annabeth moaned and begged.

A slap on the ass brought he back in line and she manged to keep her clothes on till they were in Jason's room, with her going and kicking the door shut, or trying to as it only closer 3/4's of the way.

"Jesus, look how wet you are, I'm shocked you didn't leave a puddle." Jason teased, getting her on his bed and sliding two fingers into her dripping sex and hitting all the right spots to drive her wild.

"Stop teasing and fuck me already! I need a MAN, not a BOY!" She moaned.

"Far be it from me to argue." Jason chuckled and pinning her on her back, he entered her hard and fast, just the way she liked it.

Or so he assumed from the cries of pleasure that rang out and the way her arms and legs wrapped around him, trying to pull him in deeper.

her cries were muffled by Jason's lips on hers, his tongue entering her willing mouth and making her hers and when he pulled back, she was semi drooling.

even as he rocked his hips in and out of her, he held up a finger to his lips.

"Shhh, don't wake the baby."

Percy groaned and whimpered in his sleep, having weird dreams where he only came up to Annabeth's and Jason's knee caps and they were teasing him lots and treating him even younger then they already were, when a sharp cramp in his tummy woke him up and he sat up on the floor, rubbing a eye.

"Gotta poop.." Percy mumbled, half asleep and slowly making his way up to his feet, swaying a little bit and letting out a massive fart as he did so.

the poot drew a whine and a whimper from the sleepy demi god, who held his nose as the smell reached him and toddled away as fast as he could, a little cry of 'stinky' coming out of his mouth.

heading down the hall to the bathroom, which was across from Jason's room Percy mostly didn't pay it any mind, the absence of Jason and Annabeth hadn't really clicked in his mind yet.

He likely would of ignored the room all together if he hadn't of heard a cry of pleasure coming from it, and it wasn't Jason's voice.

Toddling over Percy took a peek and his eyes went wide and his sense got a rude wake up call, there was his girlfriend naked and bouncing up and down on top of Jason who was fondling her tits as he cried out and and had her hands on his wrists, encouraging it.

even as he took in the site and felt a rage boiling over, Percy's little sailor shorts painfully tented out and a cramp hit, making him go to his knees and keep watching.

"Fuck fuck fuck, you're so much better then Percy~" Annabeth was moaning and mewing, trying to lean down for a kiss. Jason instead rolled and now was on top of her, fucking her like the whore she was and looking over in Percy's direction, smirking.

"Of course I am. He's just a little cuck boi. I bet if he knew what was happening he'd just suck his thumb and jerk off." Jason said, and winked at Percy.

Percy wanted to get up and storm in there, to pound on Jason and put him in his place.

Instead he found himself reaching into his shorts and jerking his painfully hard cock, which had already leaked pre though the briefs and the shorts and his thumb found it's way into his mouth, sucking on it.

"Hell I bet once we get his stupid ass back in diapers, he'll be more then willing to prep daddy for mommy. can you picture him bobbing up and down on my cock, thickly diapers and whimpering but rubbing the front of his huggies?" Jason added.

Percy missed Annabeth's reply, mostly because as Jason said it Percy was picturing himself doing it, and accordingly the thumb started to move in his mouth, as if he was practicing for daddy.

"Might even let him have a load or two..I know you're gonna breast feed him but I wanna give him some daddy milk too." Jason chuckled, fucking Annabeth in ways Percy knew he never could and he whimpered around his thumb.

Normally Percy's stamina was as such he could fuck for at least half a hour without blowing his load but whether it was the scene in front of him, the scene in his head, the bowel movement pressing on his prostate as he was fighting to keep it in now or all three, his peak was coming fast.

Drool trailing sown his chin and shutting his eyes, he let the mental image of Jason face fucking him while he pooped himself fill his mind and had the biggest most intense orgasm of his life, shooting though the undies and shorts like they weren't even there and spraying his load on the wall, before slumping over, panting and eyes glazed over.

the last thing he recalled before conking back out was a loss of control, and a warm muddy feeling starting to spread on his butt.

Jason finished up with Annabeth and they cuddled, the smell reaching them both but oddly not bothering them as much as it should.

She had picked up Percy was watching from the looks Jason kept giving the door and then his dirty talk and smirked and she traced a finger on his pecs.

"You really are evil you know that~" She giggled.

"Oh please, if anything I just saved us about 2-3 days worth of effort in making him a diaper wearing cuck. trust me, he's never gonna be able to replace that feeling with anything less then watching mommy and daddy fuck." Jason said.

"heh, so you don't think he'll at least be able to hump his stuffies?" Annabeth asked.

"Oh, he'll hump them alright, but all he's gonna do is basically goon himself stupid. Add in maybe some hand jobs from you while your breast feeding him and that's what sex with you will become. him sucking on your titties and humping your hand." Jason laughed and pulled her in for a kiss. "Unless of course you don't even wanna grant him that?" Jason asked and smirked.

"Heh, Nah, I'm not heartless. what we had was fun and the least I can do is let him suck on my titties. though maybe I'll dump a condom full of 'daddy milk' over them first." She teased and they both laughed.

"Well, I suppose ONE of us should go and get him cleaned up and diapered." Jason said and gave Annabeth a hopeful look.

"Heh, nice try, diapers were YOUR idea, so enjoy wiping his poopie butt Mr.daddy dom." Annabeth said and rolled over, covering herself with a sheet and drifting off into a light nap.

"..Maybe it won't be so bad." Jason said softly and slid out of bed.

getting a pair of shorts on he moved out into the hall way and leaned in to check on Percy.

"Oh Jupiter! it's worse then I thought!" came his cry as Annabeth opened one eye and chuckled.

15 minutes later (though it felt like hours to poor Jason) and Percy had been cleaned up of all of his mess and taped up in a nice snug diaper.

the sea brat had woken up halfway though the clean up but hadn't offered one bit of resistance as Jason cleaned him, unless you counted him covering his face in shame when he got a stiffie as Jason wiped his winky.

Still he had been a good boy and lifted his hips when told to for Jason to slid the thick diaper under his butt and sucked on his thumb big time as Jason helped him to his feet.

"well, I guess it's save to say your not big enough for big boy undies huh buddy?" Jason asked and kissed Percy's hot cheek. "Wave bye bye to your undies." Jason added, tossing them in a waste basket and almost melting as after a second, Percy actually waved bye.

a pat on his padded rump and a point towards the living room had Percy toddling unsteadily on his feet, getting used to the bulk between his legs while Jason took the bag out of the trash can and tied it shut, unwilling to let the treasure so to speak linger.

As he came out of the bathroom he saw one of two adorable sights. the first was that Percy had plopped onto his butt and was trying to get back up. the second was that Annabeth was at the end of the hall, leaning down slightly and lightly slapping her thighs and coo'ing to Percy.

"Come on little guy, you can do it! walk for mommy!" She coo'ed."Stop sucking on your thumb and use both hands to get up and for balance~ that's it!"

Percy was clearly mortified, but had a silly grin on his face and pulled his drool soaked thumb out of his mouth and managed to get up on his feet and step by step made his way to her, arms held out like a baby learning to walk.

'Awww, babies first steps and we didn't record it.' Jason mused.

Percy huggled and nuzzled Annabeth who showed off her shocking power as he lifted him up and set him on her hip, taking over over to the couch and sitting down with him as Jason ran the bag with the smelly undies and shorts out to the trash.

Joining the other two on the couch, Jason and Annabeth were on either side of Percy and giving him lots of cuddles.

"So..I suppose you have a few questions for us." Jason started.

"MORE then a few.." Percy agreed.

Half a hour later and Percy was all caught up with what was going on, how this had been the end game from the start and how long he'd been cucked.

It hurt in a way but in the long run he could tell that despite him not being considered a man or even a big boy anymore, Annabeth still cared for him and well, he kinda liked the attention from Jason as well.

"Will I still get to have sex?" Percy asked as his last question.

"well, depends on what you count as sex. You'll get diaper rubs when being breast fed." Annabeth said.

"and your free to hump your stuffies, just not too much, I don't wanna have to replace the stuffing in them every day." Jason said then looked a little sheepish. "Thoughh uhhh..If you wanted to make daddy super duper happy and get a bunch of toys as a reward..I kinda like the idea of long term cock locks on little boys like you."

Percy whined at that and squirmed.

"H-How long?" he asked.

"ehehe well uh..at least a year at a time." Jason started and Percy's jaw dropped.

"Are you nuts?! I'd go crazy!! There's n-" Percy started to whine and have a fit, but was tugged suddenly by Annabeth.

while his attention had been on Jason she'd slipped off her top and now had Percy in her lap and one of her tits resting against his face, the hand on the back on his head and the other hand on his crotch.

"Shhh don't be so fussy and drink up and think about it." she coo'ed.

He tried to fight free for a few seconds but then while trying to yell actually tasted some milk coming out of Annabeth's perfect tits and calmed down, suckling away almost greedily now and thrusting his crotch into her hand over and over again as he drank up.

"if you end up creaming yourself while drinking titty milk I'm going to have to take it as a sign you wanna be locked up for a year buddy." Jason coo'ed, moving around behind Annabeth now and kissing the back of her neck. "Doesn't that sound fair 'mommy'?"

"Mmmhhhm~ totally 'daddy'."Annabeth moaned then turned her attention to Percy. "What do you think baby Percy? Does that sound fair and you want mommy to stop feeding you her boobies or do you wanna keep drinking. hold up one finger for stop, two for keep going."

To the surprise of no one two fingers were held up and she let Percy keep nursing, though she felt a need to toss out a warning.

"Percy sweetie, you might wanna slow down, titty milk is mean for real babies, not big ones and can react funny with your system." she warned.

"Like what?" Jason asked, looking a little concerned now.

"Oh, he'll have this go right though him and then you'll have your first stinky diaper to change." Annabeth said with a evil grin.

"..Uh Percy buddy maybe slow down." Jason said, sweat dropping a little.

It wasn't that he didn't wanna change a smelly diaper, more just he thought there would be more of a break in between said smelly diapers.

In any case Percy either didn't seem to hear mommy and daddy because he was lost in his own little world of diapie rubs and titty milk or he just didn't care, a ominous gurgling coming from his tummy.

"better get ready for anther present from your favorite little gift maker." Annabeth teased Jason as she increased the diaper rubbing which made Percy only drink harder.

Jason resigned himself to his fate and decided to help things along, reaching around Annabeth's arm and rubbing and pushing on Percy's tum tum.

the effect was almost instant and Annabeth pulled her hand away just as Percy started to spurt, the back of his diaper ballooning out with hot mush and hiting his happy spot on the way out and Percy was derpy faced and hand titty milk running down his chin as he diaper humped the air.

"Cumming! Baby Percy ish cumming while going POOPIE in his diapies!" he babbled out.

"heh, you sure are~"

-3 and half months later-

Adjusting to life as a family and living at the camp year round wasn't always easy for everyone, for one there had been a tricky business with calming down Percy's real dad when he found out what Percy had been turned into.

Thankfully Zeus and Hades had manged to calm him down and make him see how much happier their nephew was like this and sea daddy had let it go, though warned Jason and Annabeth that if they ever broke Percy's heart not even his brothers would be able to stop his rage before leaving.

(ironically this threat had made Annabeth have a slight accident and Percy had giggled for almost a hour about how mommy needed diapers too)

Switching all of his clothes into little style ones was anther challenge and then there was the fun of trying to figure out what he could keep from his old life and what he had to give away, though the little yard sale they had for his big boy stuff was helped with Percy in just his diapers and a pair of sandal's running around and gushing over different things and hyping up how kewl they were.

Today however Fall was well underway and Jason was sitting on the front porch with Annabeth sipping on some hot cider while Percy played in the yard.

He was dressed in light black sweat pants and white socks and a pair of light up heel velco strap sneaker, and wearing a light jacket colored blue to help with the chill in the air.

his thick diaper showed under the sweats but after so long in the diapers he only had trouble walking or running when they went up to three diapers just before bed.

Jason had just finished raking up all the leafs into piles before taking a seat on the porch and sighed a little as Percy apparently made it his mission to take out the 'evil leaf aliens from planet FART' via jumping into the piles.

"Remind me why I bothered to rake these when i knew he was coming out to play?" Jason asked, smirking slightly.

"heh,well if I had to take a guess I would suggest that your a glutton for punishment.. or you just wanted to watch him be a cute little dork." Annabeth said and took a sip, then placed a hand on her tummy. "So, I have a question for you."

"Oh?"Jason asked, his hand joining hers on her belly and feeling a little kick.

"How long do we wait to tell him he's gonna be a big brother?"

The end