#Magnus chase x reader

[aimiesposts]

I see no difference

[girlkisser13]

riordanverse masterlist

pjo & hoo

annabeth chase

clarisse la rue

drew tanaka

frank zhang

hazel levesque

jason grace

leo valdez

luke castellan

nico di angelo

perseus "percy" jackson

piper mclean

rachel elizabeth dare

reyna ramírez-arellano

thalia grace

william "will" solace

multiple

cabin headcanons

taking the hoo girls to prom

taking the pjo & hoo characters to the eras tour

the kane chronicles

carter kane

sadie kane

zia rashid

walt stone

magnus chase and the gods of asgard

alex fierro

blitzen

halfborn gunderson

hearthstone

magnus chase

mallory keen

samirah al abbas

thomas jefferson jr.

[static-symphony-fm]

you are in love (true love)

now playing: you are in love (taylor's version)

pairing: magnus chase x fem! reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: 5 people who knew magnus was in love with you before you did + 1 sword

an: FIRST FANFIC LETS FUCKING GOOOOO this took so long to write! I love how I accidentally made it blue themed even though that's magnus's least favorite colour 😭 its ok we all know he's canonically a 1989 girly

fun fact i actually took the first picture! i shit you not I was on a road trip with my family READING MAGNUS CHASE and I look up and see THAT SIGN and i SCRAMBLED to take a picture

content/ warnings: 5+1 things, background blitzstone bcs c'mon they're basically canon, shitty writing, kissing ooo spooky, magnus being a simp, there actually isn't a whole lot of reader in this x reader fic, minor allusions to sex stuff, a lot of swearing, weird use of perspective, i was trying to go for third person limited but magnus is the one it's limited to not reader? but reader is referred to using second person? sorry if it's confusing.

1. samirah al-abbas

  if someone had told magnus a year ago that in a couple month’s time, meeting for coffee weekly with one of his best friends and not getting kicked out of the overpriced coffee shop was going to be the most normal thing in his life, he wouldn’t have believed them. probably would have flipped them off, too, and stole their wallet as he walked away. but he’d like to think that he was a changed man, seeing as he was, in fact, in a hipster café in boston, trying not to make fun of all the fancy menu options. like, seriously? who orders a dragon fruit, pomegranate, and kale smoothie?

he realized he’d been thinking for too long and returned his attention to samirah, sitting across from him and discussing wedding plans for her upcoming marriage to amir as she sipped her latte. he noticed the way her eyes seemed to get brighter, and her entire body language conveyed how excited she was as she talked about him. magnus had a fleeting thought about how good it must feel to love someone so unconditionally like that, and have them love you back just as much. 

as if reading his mind, samirah finished her sentence and studied him, tilting her head as she seemed lost in thought, peering at him like he was a calculus problem she couldn’t quite figure out. 

after a few seconds, magnus broke the silence. 

“alright, it’s getting weird. why’re you looking at me like that?”

samirah snapped out of it, focusing on what he was saying.

“nothing, just… do you think you’ll ever get married?”

jeez, that was a loaded question. magnus narrowly avoided choking on his black coffee, swallowing and burning his throat before answering.

 “sam, i’m dead.”

“so? people get married in valhalla all the time. i have been to a very disproportionate amount of weddings in the two years i worked there.”

“yeah? how many of those end in divorce?”

samirah took a long drink of her coffee, swallowing it slowly as she responded.

“forever is a very long time, and no relationship is perfect, but wouldn’t it be better to have someone to spend that time with?”

“…i guess.” magnus accepted, lost in thought. truthfully, samirah was right, like always. if circumstances were different, if he hadn’t died at sixteen, he could imagine himself getting married. settling down. living in a cabin in the forest with two kids. 

a thought came into his mind, entirely of its own accord, of doing all of that with you. your laugh, your soft hair, the way your lips curled up and your eyes widened when you smile. you’d probably be a great mom.

whoa, what the hell? he should definitely not be thinking about getting married to his friend, what the fuck? that is not normal. 

he pushed the weird thought out of his mind as best he could, gulping his coffee and focusing on the burning in his throat and not what he was just thinking. samirah had gone back to talking about amir, and magnus was not going to think about marrying you any longer.

2. alex fierro

after nearly getting his head cut off by alex’s garrote for the third time that day, magnus needed a break. alex had decided that magnus needed to learn to fight without the help of jack, and it wasn't going too well for him. he collapsed on the bench next to alex, chugging half a bottle of water before even taking a breath. alex rolled her eyes. 

“it’s not that hard, you just aren’t fast enough.”

magnus managed to control himself and not say a snarky comment back, but it was a close call. instead, he ignored her, staring straight ahead and not engaging. unfortunately, you were in his direct line of sight, sparring with mallory only a few metres away. alex picked up on this quickly, nudging his side. 

“you like watching y/n fight, huh?” she teased, smirking. damn, why did she have to be so perceptive?

“what? no. shut up.” magnus replied quickly, trying to hide his blush. “i mean… she’s a good fighter. not like i like her or anything like that.” 

“mhm. suuuure you don’t.” alex replied, definitely not believing him. fuck.

“i’m telling the truth!” magnus protested. god, how was arguing with alex harder than physically fighting her? 

“yeah. did you see her necklace today? pretty, right?”

“she’s not even wearing a neck- fuck.” magnus said instantly, before catching himself. 

“go to hell.”  he swore, glaring at alex, who was grinning at him in a way that reminded him a little too much of her mother. 

“you first.”

      3 + 4. blitzen & hearthstone

“magnus? magnus?”

a pale hand reached in front of magnus face, waving and then snapping its fingers, bringing him back to reality. he blinked and looked around at hearth and blitz, sitting across from him in the dining room of the chase space. hearth took his hand back to sign finally, raising his eyebrows sarcastically.

“your head’s way up in the clouds, kid.” blitz remarked, drumming his short, well manicured fingernails on the table, his silver engagement ring glinting.  he was right. magnus definitely was pretty out of it lately. 

probably thinking about y/n, hearth signed. jeez, why did every conversation he had have to be about you? and no, he most certainly was not thinking about you and your pretty eyes and your delicate hands and the way your ass looked in those jeans you were wearing yesterday… jesus fucking christ, he needed to stop.

 he buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly, then raised his head back up so hearth could read his lips, hoping that his blush wasn’t as visible as it felt. 

“i am not thinking about her.” he lied through his teeth. 

“there’s nothing wrong with having a crush, you know.”

ugh, why did they have to act so much like his dads? 

“i don’t have a crush!”

“kid, you’re a terrible liar. everyone can see the way you stare at that girl. now remember, if you’re doing anything intimate, you gotta use protection…”

that’s it. magnus couldn’t stand up from the table fast enough

 “nope! this conversation is ending right now. good talk!”

5. annabeth chase

magnus and annabeth had been walking around new york for the past three hours, trying to make up for the ten years spent apart.  annabeth had shown him her favorite library, and pointed out a bunch of cool architecture in nearby buildings, with a promise to show him and his friends camp half-blood in the summer.

 they were currently taking a break, stopping for lunch at a falafel place that wasn’t quite as good as fadlan’s, but it was still falafel. magnus was enjoying listening to annabeth talk about her architecture projects– she was taking online classes to prepare for the higher level of new rome university’s program. 

magnus loved listening to her talk about things he didn’t understand. as a child he’d always thought she was a genius, the way she always solved puzzles and math problems easily. ten years later, that theory still held up, hearing her go on about a bunch of terms he didn’t understand.

“sorry, i’m probably boring you to tears. you wanna talk about something else?”

annabeth offered.

“no, it’s fine… i really don’t have a lot going on.” magnus replied, smiling politely.

“come on. there’s gotta be something interesting.” an idea seemed to come to annabeth.

“you have a crush on anybody?”

magnus swallowed. 

“no.”

but he was too slow. those steel gray eyes that matched his own were locked on him like a hawk, or maybe an owl. 

“yes, you do. come on. spill!”

magnus stayed silent. he was not telling his cousin about his crushes, but those metallic eyes stayed locked on him. he eventually gave up. annabeth could be scary when she wanted to be.

“fine. fine. her name’s y/n…”

+1. jack

 it was movie night at the chase space. was magnus ever gonna stop calling it that? no. it was cool. shut up. the credits were rolling on some disney movie that alex had insisted on, and everyone else was slowly but surely making their way to their rooms, yawning as they said their good nights. you had been sitting next to magnus on the couch the whole time, and suffice it to say that he had had some trouble concentrating on the film.  

it was just you and him, you in your nirvana t-shirt and gray sweat shorts, and in that moment, he decided to tell you.

 you got up to leave, waving at him, and in a feat of bravery so incredible it would be studied by historians for centuries to come, magnus managed to work up the nerve to speak up. 

“hey, uh, can i talk to you for a sec?”

“sure? what’s up?” you asked as you sat back down.

jesus, what had he gotten himself into? it’s ok, magnus, you got this. you beat loki in a flyting. you can talk to a pretty girl. 

“uh, i was just thinking… i just…” off to a great start, aren’t we? fuck off, voice in his head. he can do this. he took a deep breath.

“i really like you. you're gorgeous and funny and so insanely smart. i’m an atheist but i’m praying to god you feel the same way. will you be my girlfriend?”

you bit your lip, breaking eye contact as you looked off into the distance. fuck. you were gonna say no and then he was never gonna be able to talk to you again and he was gonna have to change his name and move to canada…

“can i kiss you?” 

what.

there were a million things magnus expected you to say, but that was none of them. he managed to stutter out a simple “please…” and then you leaned forward and your lips were on his and magnus chase died.

this felt more like the end of his life than being knocked off a burning bridge and drowning did. his heart was beating a million times a second, and he seemed to have forgotten how breathing worked. your lips were softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

 he managed to reciprocate a little, mostly acting on instinct, and all he could think about was how astronomically better this was than jackie molotov in the seventh grade.

what was he supposed to do with his hands? he was pretty sure that keeping them at his side was the wrong answer, so he moved one to your waist and the other one to the back of your neck, tangling it gently in your soft hair as his lips moved against yours.

gods, he could have stayed like that until ragnarök, but his stupid sword had to ruin the moment. jack started buzzing on his neck sleepily, seeming to have been woken up ungraciously. he hoped that you couldn’t feel it, but that was pretty unlikely, considering how close you were to him. jeez, he was blushing more and more every time he thought about that. 

eventually, you pulled away, smiling a little. 

“good night, magnus.”

he nodded, unable to form words, and managed to stand up and walk back to his room, wide eyed, operating on autopilot. he walked into his room and immediately collapsed backwards onto the bed, staring at the ceiling without blinking, completely still. not a thought passed through his mind for at least ten minutes, till he finally was able to reach up and pull jack’s pendant off of his necklace.

“dude, what happened to blades before babes!?!”

[fbfh]

please please please, i can NEVER find any good Magnus Chase smut, you’re the only ones who’s really even dabbled in it and it was amazing so please feed me in the world with little to no good Magnus chase smut 😭

as with ALL nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

OOOOOH BITCH YES. again I don't do a ton of Magnus cause I don't wanna mischaracterize him but yall are so sweet with your feedback so lemme throw this out there for your consideration. (also all feedback on characterization is welcome jus pls be specific lol)

Magnus fucks you like it feeds him. He fucks you like he's relieved and hungry and even though his fat cock is stuffed inside you hitting every spot that makes your head spin, it's like you're the one that fills him up. Magnus really wants to be the type of guy who holds onto you, who caresses your face and touches you all cute and soft and lovey dovey but GOD he devolves so quickly. He's gripping the sheets, he's shaking and grunting and panting, he's swearing up a storm that would make a sailor blush because you feel so goddamn good, you're so safe and soft and familiar. You feel like home. And tragically for your ability to walk the next day, he is fucking INSATIABLE. he's gonna be using his mouth and hands all over you until you practically have rug burn from his stubble tickling your thighs. hand cramps??? who's that???? this bitch will practically rewire his brain to stop sending cramp signals if it means he gets to touch you a little longer. once he's finally finally finally done (which again will take quite a WHILE) he flops on top of you completely spent. he lets out the biggest, rumbliest sigh and falls asleep on top of you like a bear in hibernation. Magnus is your personal weighted blanket, and will make you forget that sex toys even exist. Magnus fucks you so good, so much that you will literally forget how to get yourself off without him. it's a real problem when he's away killing monsters and saving the world and running from the cops, but he just finds it so fucking adorable. he sends kisses and promises to make it up to you as soon as he's back.

[cabinofimagines]

Near Death Experience

I changed the text a bit from the request, but this is what worked for me! Pairing: Poly!Fierrochase x gn!reader, Alex Fierro x reader x Magnus Chase Request: Uh, hi. This is my first request so i don't know how to start, but can you make a poly!Fierrochase one? Maybe add a little bit of angst where the reader nearly dies in the mortal realm but suddenly Sam takes the reader to Valhalla (Sorry i suck at spelling cuz English id my second language) but Alex and Magnus doesn't know that and sobs themselves to sleep and becomes a lil' depressed until they see the reader at breakfast the next morning? If you can ily and thank you! If you can't it's fine and thank you and ily regardless :) Word count: 1.1k Warnings: mentions of death etc. -Asnyox

The day had started just fine, you were hanging with your lovers for most of it, going on a date. It wasn’t much of a date, as you three mostly decided to walk around Boston for the day. Away from Hotel Vahalla, away from other friends or duties at the Chase place. However neither of your lovers had expected to find you, passed out, after saying goodbye. 

Sam had been the way to inform them. Apparently you were caught off guard when you were making your way back to the Chase place, and you had been lucky enough to have stumbled upon Sam afterwards. Magnus couldn’t move fast enough to your location, and somehow he had felt like he had been too late, even if you were still alive, but unconscious. 

“Look, if I had been around-” Magnus started but Alex gripped his shoulder. 

“You weren’t,” Alex glared at Magnus, “You couldn’t have been! So don’t fucking blame yourself when you better worry about (Y/n).” Alex took a shuddering breath, “I will not grief- let you grief when they’re not yet dead.” She had been holding on, keeping up her appearance thus far, but it was crumbling. Alex sighed, holding back the tears she could feel behind her eyes, “Just focus on regaining energy, maybe they need more healing.” 

Magnus wasn’t a stranger to losing a loved one, but it had become rarer. He knew now that he could heal people, and that’s all you needed to get round, right? When he was around pain wouldn’t last long- yet somehow he hadn’t been enough to heal you. There weren’t any physical wounds, but why hadn’t you woken yet? Magnus wasn’t entirely stunned- he had noticed that when he tried to heal you, he hadn’t caught any glimpses of your memories and consciousness. Magnus normally didn’t have control over it happening, but when bringing one back from the brink of death if had always happened, and yet, with you, it hadn’t. Were you too far gone? Or did Magnus know you too well to need to catch your memories?

Alex didn’t want to face the reality- the fact that even in this world of gods, you might die. Alex had seen the impossible happen again and again, yet right now the possibility of losing you seemed so real. And she didn’t face any of this- not yet, not when you were still breathing. She wouldn’t mourn, cry, panic until you were truly six feet under. She had to be strong, she’s always had to be strong. 

It took you three days to wake up. Throughout these days you were never alone, Magnus and Alex took shifts, barely able to put up with the other while you were struggling. It wasn’t t that they blamed each other- it was their own inabilities to face their feelings and be vulnerable while you weren’t yet gone. You wouldn’t be gone is what they both wanted to believe, but crying over your unconscious form together was too close to admitting the dire situation. There was strength in denial. 

And then your eyes shifted, your mouth felt dry but your body didn’t hurt. You were uncomfortable- that was sure, but as you tried to move your arm to rub your eyes you were met with resistance. As you stretched your hand you notice another hand holding it tightly. Softly, you heard Magnus’s voice whisper your name, and you wanted to respond but it came out as a groan. The warmth- oh, the hand holding yours had been sweaty- left your hand, and you moved your fingers, bringing your arm to your face and finally rubbing your eyes, ridding it of some grub that had seemed to keep them closed. 

As you opened your eyes the room seemed too bright, and for a second you considered you had, somehow, arrived in Heaven. But, luckily, Magnus’s face disproved that theory. 

He helped you up, and at the same time Alex made his way into the room, carrying a tray. As his eyes looked at you, he moved quickly, putting down the tray next to your bed and helping Magnus to sit you up. 

As you drank your water, Alex realized he had been crying. He no longer needed to be strong, because you were back and breathing. There were still things to worry about but your imminent death had passed- and that allowed him the breather he needed to feel the emotions he had been denying himself for the past few days. 

Your glass was discarded- whether by your own hands or by Alex grabbing it as you finished neither of you know, but you are quickly engulfed in a hug. 

“Never do this again.” Alex demanded but you knew you couldn’t promise it, so you simply hummed in response. Magnus hesitantly joined the hug, not wanting to overwhelm you as you had just recovered, but he didn’t want to stay back either. After a moment you broke apart, although neither of your lovers let go of you entirely. Alex had unexpectedly kept his hand on yours, while Magnus had moved to sit next to you on the bed, entangling his arm with yours. 

“Sam said she didn’t know what got you,” Magnus said, staring at you unwaveringly, “but for some reason my healing didn’t work afterwards. Do you remember?” Your brain was still lacking any comprehensive thought, so you simply shook your head. You genuinely didn’t remember what happened, but it might come back to you. Magnus sighed, but did not press. He had hoped that maybe there was a reason, a simple ‘Oh this Norse creature cancels out healing magic’ but there wasn’t one. Yet, somehow he didn’t find himself caring too much, as he could feel your breath next to him.   It had been a bad time for your lovers, but they would get over it sooner rather than later. You hoped this would be the last time such a thing would happen, but you could never know, and in Valhalla your lovers were face to face with death every day, and eventually you would learn to just be grateful for the days that pass without injury. You only live once, after all. 

[arch-nemesis-of-our-own]

hii!! my main blog is @bleep-bloops-things I just do matchups here :P

RULES PLS READ

MATCHUPS ARE OPEN!!!

FANDOMS:

helluva boss

hazbin hotel

stranger things

percy jackson and the olympians (first 5 books)

heroes of olympus (you can also just ask for the 7 specifically)

magnus chase and the gods of asgard

the maze runner

the hunger games

be more chill

harry potter (specify golden or marauder era)

the outsiders

gravity falls (specify what age group-the grunkles, teens, etc- if you don't specify I'll do a platonic one)

ducktales (same as gravity falls. I love to do platonic ones for these)

(bold text are ones that will most likely get finished faster bc I'm currently obsessed with them)

[lydscare]

lydscare's masterlist

pjo/hoo/toa

songs that remind me of them (all)

nicknames/petnames they'd use (all)

reaction to walking in on you changing pt.1 pt.2

cuddling hcs (all)

magnus chase

songs that remind me of them (all)

kissing hcs (all)

the owl house

hunter w/ an affectionate reader

incorrect quotes ft. you

harry pottter

nicknames/petnames they'd use (all)

songs that remind me of them (all)

marauders

songs that remind me of them (all)

nicknames/petnames they'd use (all)

lego monkie kid

songs that remind me of them (all)

nicknames/petnames they'd use (all)

the outsiders

ponyboy curtis dating/relationship hcs , pt.2

treasure planet (2002)

jim hawkins relationship hcs 

fourth wing/the empyrean

xaden riorson fluff alphabet 

wicked (movie and broadway versions)

jealousy hcs (all) 

[goodoldfashionlovercorpse]

RIORDANVERSE MASTERLIST:

♡ luke castellan; traitorous son of hermes, our fallen hero. - soul love (pt. 1, 2); bonds form from an unlikely pair.

♡ percy jackson; son of poseidon, hero of olympus. - coming soon...

♡ annabeth chase; daughter of athena, hero of camp half-blood. - coming soon...

♡ magnus chase; son of natalie, hero of the nine worlds. - coming soon...

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Riordanverse Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Current Work Count: 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heartbreak

Aphrodite x daughter! Reader (platonic) You’re heartbroken seeing Percy and Annabeth together. How does your godly mother, Aphrodite, help you feel better?

Dating Headcanons

Magnus Chase x gn! Reader General headcanons about dating Magnus Chase.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

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[altkys]

Magnus Chase is such a goofy loser

He’s so lame, his stupid inner monologue is like that of an edgy 13 year old who liked anime in 23 with little-to-no fighting experience, but thinks he can kick everybody’s ass

Anyways, I love him and would actually commit mass murder to adopt/date the guy. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[sparksandstars]

Fanfic ideas that I don’t have enough context to make but I’m pitching this out:

Conner Kent x (reader or Tim)

Based off of Chappell Roan - good luck, Babe!

Like from what I know Conner Kent is a playboy in some media soooo like I want this. If it’s a reader x thing then like reader has to be a superhero too. IMO like it makes sense.

Magnus Chase x reader fic based on Taylor Swift - fortnight

And

Taylor Swift - Peter

LIKE EVEN LESS CONTEXT. I just know that the books are a trilogy. I have not read a WORD of them. Still I’m like “this fits.” I stand by that. Like maybe before and after Magnus dies?

I might make both of them though! I need to do research.

[pjofancalledbelle]

RAHHHHHH I LOVE JASON GRACE

ahhhhhhhh JASON SAVE US

[static-symphony-fm]

I wanna write for Magnus SO BAD but you have no idea how hard it is to find pictures of guys with long blonde hair on pinterest

[fbfh]

Genuinely let out a SCREAM OF JOY WHEN I SAW YOU POSTED MORE MAGNUS!!!! AND SMUT TOO!!! I can’t believe it. If you ever could, pls write more 🙏🙏 thank you so much for everything

Magnus fucks you hard and dirty. He is such a shameless son of a bitch. he will just fuckin sweep you off your feet anytime anywhere any place. He is the KING of finding secluded little spots for quickies and hidden nooks and crannies to make out in without getting caught with a public indecency charge. and by public indecency charge I mean romantically running from the cops hand in hand BEFORE you catch a public indecency charge. Magnus is rough on the outside but TENDER as FUCK on the inside. okay I can't find the clip but there's a part in the hey arnold episode "married" where helga is simping and goes "If only he could see past my mean, blustery veneer, into my soft, mushy interior, wherein, I adore him."

and that's LITERALLY Magnus about you. he seems so intimidating and he treats you SO well. his hands are rough but he touches you so gently, his stubble scratches your skin but his lips obsess over every inch of you, his hair is usually kind of tangled but he lets out the sweetest grumbling moans when you tug and play with it. He sort of reminds me of Carmy Berzatto in that way, all rough and gruff and OVERFLOWING with loving passionate adoration for you.

and GOD don't get me started on Magnus's tongue. sometimes he just spends all your time together going down on you, using his mouth everywhere because he needs to taste you. The air always smells like spring around him, and he usually tastes like falafel and/or stale coffee. it's a weird combination but it tastes so fucking good on his tongue. he's obsessed with you and GENUINELY can't fucking get enough of you, and you love every fucking minute with him, like Freyja herself paired you up. (she did. she's your number one shipper.)

[cabinofimagines]

At the Museum

I am back for NOW I still have braincells which will be consumed SOON by my blorbo's. I changed the request slightly, so although the reader is from Camp Half-Blood, their godly parent is not specified! Closely based on this thing written by Riordan

Gods my thesis is killing me

Pairing: FAMILY! platonic! Magnus Chase and Annabeth Chase x FAMILY PLATONIC GN!reader Chase Request: could you do something where reader, annabeth, and magnus are cousins and readers a daughter of apollo or hecate. like her/their parent was natalie's twin. this has been in my mind forever and i thought i would share it. Word count: ~1.8k Warnings: same amount of death jokes as the Magnus Chase books

-Asnyox

You only ever had vague memories of your time with your family. Laughter, sand in your face, perhaps it was at a beach, maybe it was a sandpit. It didn’t matter anymore, for although those memories once were the only thing you had left of spending time with your family it no longer was. After Magnus ‘disappeared’ (read; ran away and died and then came back to life) you finally managed to stay connected with your cousin.

You see, although your parents always wrote the lack of connection to Magnus and his mom off as ‘religious differences’, but that didn’t mean it had to stay that way.

This weekend, Annabeth invited you and Magnus to come to New York for a visit. You had been staying at camp after summer, however with the newly revived and resurfaced cousin Magnus being able to come over you did not hesitate. Annabeth noticed that there was an exhibit at the Discovery Center in Times Square called The Vikings and decided it would be perfect to meet at. You know, given that Magnus apparently was the son of a Norse god, and neither you or Annabeth were too well versed in that pantheon.

“You bring me to New York and show me Vikings?” Magnus sighed, “I’ve got enough of those in Boston.” “Look I think it’s important to understand your world Magnus,” Annabeth smiled, “and I promise to take you to Mamoun’s Falafel and Shawarma afterwards,” “It’s a lot less boring than the Greek architecture exhibit,” You commented. Annabeth punched your arm softly. “I will just ask Percy next time (Y/n), no more bonding time for us.” She joked and you gasped. “Betrayal!” You exclaimed, and you noticed Magnus smiling. After a moment of hesitation, you spoke up again, “It sucks, you know, that we just,” you looked at your cousins sadly, “That we never got to be a family together. No holidays, or meetings. I barely even knew what you would look like Magnus!”

“But we can catch up now,” Annabeth softly grabbed your hand and squeezed it, “right some wrongs or something.” Magnus nodded. “I literally have all the time of the world now,” he shrugged, “most of the time anyways. We’ll be a family from now on, help each other and stuff.” “Yeah, that’s nice,” you sighed, “I’m glad.”

“Well, let’s get the exhibition over so I can get some falafel.”

───────────

One of the first things you saw was a full-sized reconstruction of a Viking River boat. The most impressive part? Someone made it with historical tools, meaning no saws and no machines. Magnus commented on how, if the boat would have been more portable, he could’ve taken it with him on his quest to stop Ragnarök. Sadly, unlike the one he got, which folds into a handkerchief, this one he could not carry around.

“Huh, life must have been pretty hard for Vikings back in the day then,” you joked, eliciting laughter from both your cousins. It was then that Magnus gasped.

“The Hammer of Thor! I found it! That was legit the easiest quest ever.” He pointed at a display case, “You know, this is the second time I found it.” You quietly laughed as Annabeth go a mischievous smile on her face. “This is just a silver replica,” she pointed out and Magnus sighed, “The Norse wore these all the time, kind of how Christians wore crosses.” “Dammit!” Magnus exclaimed. The security glared at him, and he looked apologetically at them, “sorry.”

As you were walking together through the exhibition, there was some comfortable banter between the three of you. At a depiction of Jormungand, Magnus noted how it did not look like the serpent at all, while you joked when coming across a necklace made from beads that that person must have spent a lot of years at camp. At one point, Annabeth looked a little melancholic when she saw a bracelet that looked like Thalia’s.

“Must be why Valkyries wear keys on their belts,” Magnus guessed. “So they can lock up their stuff and flog anyone who tries to take it.”

“I want to meet these Valkyries,” Annabeth said.

“I can introduce you to one,” Magnus offered, “You both can come to Boston and meet my friends,” he pondered, “Perhaps there will be a Greek Mythology exhibit, so I can get you back for bringing me here.”

“I will take you up for that, Magnus.” You cackled.    

Further into the exhibit, you stumbled onto bones from an actual Norseman. There was a lot of information about how the living situation of this person had been, however Magnus tried to lighten the situation. “I’m pretty sure I did Bikram yoga to the death with this dude last week,” Magnus squinted his eyes as if to examine the bones more closely, “he must be an einherji now.” “How do you do yoga to the death?” Annabeth asked, before her eyes widened, “Wait. I don’t think I actually want to know.”

Quickly after you entered the room with Norse instruments. Among everything there was something that looked, and sounded, suspiciously familiar.

“Is that a kazoo?” you guessed, “Did Vikings invent the kazoo? I am going to change religions.” “Ugh,” Annabeth said. “I got Percy a kazoo as a joke one time, and he would not stop playing it. It’s literally his only musical talent.” “Where is Percy?” Magnus asked. “I though I’d get to meet him.” Annabeth frowned. “He’s studying. He is not allowed to do anything fun until he passes his midterms.” “Ouch,” Magnus said, “His mom grounded him?” “Nope,” you interjected, smiling knowingly. “I did,” Annabeth said, “If he doesn’t graduate high school, he doesn’t get to go to college at New Rome with me. And if that happens, I will have to kill him with a kazoo.” “That is if he doesn’t die during the,” you flailed your arms around a little, “‘Godly entrance exam quest’ or whatever bullshit he has to do.” Annabeth sighed, “Yeah, because saving the world twice is not enough for a scholarship apparently.” Magnus looked at the two of you as if you were crazy, “You know that, even if it’s ‘to the death’ at least Valhalla has free education.” “I would rather not have Percy die yet, but thanks for the offer.” Annabeth sighed, “Are those Viking ice-skates?”

“They’re made out of deer bones, they used to be strapped to your shoes.” You mused, “looks pretty metal to me, to be honest. Just, whip out your bones, to your shoes and away you go!” “Sideways,” Magnus speculated, “straight into the nearest tree.” “I’d hate to see Viking skis,” Annabeth said. “You would need really big deer for those.” You commented, before moving along to the next display full of Viking swords.

“That’s sad,” Annabeth said, “Nothing is left but corroded metal.” “Oh, you should’ve seen Jack when I pulled him out of the river,” Magnus said, “He looked much worse.” “You named your sword Jack?” you questioned him. “No, he named himself that.” Magnus answered. “He … what?” “I’ll introduce you later. But I’m warning you, once he starts talking, he doesn’t shut up.”

“Your sword talks?” Annabeth asked and Magnus nodded nonchalantly. “Does he also talk to other swords? Or weapons?” you asked, and Magnus kept nodding. “I’ll let him answer for himself, I am sure he would love the attention,” Magnus grimaced, “just not here and now.”

You agreed to keep going forward. There were several pieces of jewellery, including a broach that looked amazing despite being on the earth for thousands of years. “I think it’s supposed to resemble the pendant on Brisingamen, Freya’s necklace,” Magnus mused, “It looks nice, but the real necklace is much fancier.” “Why are you blushing?” Annabeth asked. “I am not blushing,” Magnus insisted, “Freya just has a nice ear- uh, necklace. I mean necklace.”

You were already standing a bit further, reading the text next to some shoes with spikes in them. “Hey Magnus,” said boy turned to look at you, “did you know that if you die a dishonourable death and you go to Helheim, you are buried with spikes on your shoes like this? Apparently the road to Hel is icy and slippery.” “I did not know,” he remarked, “but wouldn’t deer-ski’s be faster?” he joked. “Personally,” Annabeth piped in, “I’d go for the deer bone ice skates. Can’t die by hitting a tree if you’re already dead, right?” All three of you laughed, before moving onto the next display. It contained a magic amulet, used for cursing your enemies or protecting yourself from rune magic.

“I wish Hearthstone was here,” Magnus said, “He would love this.” “Yeah,” Annabeth said, “Carter and Sadie would think that was pretty awesome too.” “Why does everyone know people that I don’t?” you said.

“Oh, Hearthstone is a friend of mine,” Magnus clarified, “He’s an elf, I guess. Likes rune magic.” “Yeah, and Carter and Sadie are some uh… Egyptian friends of mine.”

You looked at her, “Egyptian? Are you telling me-“ “Maybe we’ll talk about that at lunch,” Annabeth said, “Over falafel and a large bottle of Advil.”

As you moved further with Annabeth you both shuddered at a bunch of sickles. “I don’t like sickles. They remind me of a certain Titan,” Annabeth elaborated, but as you both kept walking you didn’t notice that Magnus lingered at this exhibit.

You see, the sickles were actually a talisman that was the symbol of Frey. They would be used for the harvest. And maybe it was Magnus’s imagination, but the light seemed to get brighter and warmer in the display case when he looked.

“Hey dad,” Magnus said, after which he reluctantly moved along.

One of the last displays of the exhibit was a bunch of little silver Valkyrie amulets. As Magnus caught up to you and Annabeth he spoke up, “Sam would love these,” “I’ve got to meet Samirah one of these days,” Annabeth said, “She sounds great.” “Yeah,” Magnus said, “Just try not to meet her the way I did, by dying.” “I think if we die, we get a different afterlife,” you commented, but Annabeth ignored you. “Deal,” she said, “Ready for some falafel?”

“The answer to that is always yes,”

And as you headed out to get lunch, a little bit of your family got repaired. It might be a while until you were as close as you were when you were little, but in time it will get better. That is, if no one died an early death (again).

[ameagrice]

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-nine | liar, liar

You were beginning to understand how the ancient Romans enjoyed watching people fight to the death. Because although Percy is literally fighting for his life in the arena dozens of feet below against a being much bigger, and much stronger, than he, there’s something alluring to watching the fight. Something about the crowd yelling, the way your heart speeds up and drops down again every time something gets too close for either of them.

Yeah, the ancient Romans had the right idea.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Rachel mutters down your ear, just as the crowd goes up in cheers again.

You’ve got your hands clasped together sweaty and squeezing tightly under your chin. Rachel might just be right.

Next to you stands Kelli. The Kelli. The monster Kelli from the high school. Of course you’re never lucky for long. Whenever she hears Rachel talk, she takes a good swipe at her with her talons, or threatens to shut her up in a way that includes blood. Disgusting, honestly. Monsters are in general utterly disgusting.

The floor of the arena and the stands seemed entirely made of packed dirt. You had the best view point in the house, directly in the middle, looking over the arena. Once or twice, Percy casted a look to your height, but he had been quickly drawn away by the ongoing fight. Around the arena were skulls, stuck on to the edge of the seats, and around the ceiling, where chains dangled down. In the middle of the opposite wall, right above the throne Luke Castellan took up, hung a giant banner with the trident of Poseidon in the centre. When you first arrived, the giant thing sitting next to Luke had simply been a spectator. Now, Percy was fighting him. For a few minutes Percy had only managed to confuse him, going this way and that and taking mad dives out of the way. But if he wanted to make it home, Percy would, frankly, need a miracle. Antaeus, a distant son of Poseidon. He declared this arena a ‘temple to the Earthshaker’ and demanded Percy engage in a fight.

Now, you’re trying to send him messages with your eyes whilst being totally enthralled in the fight itself. The Ancient Greeks had the Olympics, and the Romans their Gladiators. Sometimes you thought you might have been a better fit for the past. And then you thought about your rights, and decided you’d be alright where you are.

You’d been sending him ideas with your eyes the whole fight time. Finally, Percy got the hint, with one singular glance in your direction. He’d made it up to the chains, climbing further and higher so Antaeus had no choice but to follow the fighter in order to win. If Percy got away, what sort of show would that be? Thankfully, Antaeus followed Percy��s—your—idea, climbing up the chains, yelling. By the time he’d reached the top and become tangled, Percy slid back down the chains, all the way to the ground, panting and sweaty in the face.

“Get me down!” Antaeus demanded.

Luke, from his makeshift throne, was absolutely furious. He got to his feet, angry as hell. “Free him! Now.”

Percy, a tiny dot in the arena, pulled the pen from his pocket and pulled the cap. Riptide materialised.

“Oh, I’ll free him,” said Percy. Something about the way the arena was constructed had his voice echoing around it. Annabeth would know what it was. He stood on his toes, ever so slightly, and raised the tip of Riptide to Antaeus’s stomach. With the point, he touched the giant’s skin, and sand began to pour out. As a being of the earth, Antaeus would struggle to regenerate without touching it, hence your idea to have him off the ground. Sand poured into a pile as the giant roared in anger, the crowd watched in disbelief, until there was nothing left of Antaeus.

And Luke…

“I should have killed you right at the beginning.”

You could vaguely hear your friend hum in amusement. “You tried. And failed. Let us go, Luke. We had an agreement with Antaeus; I’m the winner.”

“Antaeus’s oath dies with him. Since I’m feeling merciful today, I’ll have you killed quickly. Save the girls for last. I’d like them to watch their little hero die. An example.”

“This is, like,” you pause for a moment, thinking. “This is…”

“Are you gonna say something stupid?”

You nod slowly, glancing up. “Might do, yeah.”

“Please do. I’d like to laugh at the dumb shit coming out of your mouth before we die.”

You roll your eyes. “Pfffttttt. We’re not gonna die, Rachel! We’re just gonna suffer for a little bit. We’ll live. Totally.”

Rachel snorts heavily, and Kelli retaliates by hissing down her ear like some possessed rattlesnake. “Well, as long as we suffer, eh?”

You hum. Percy begins backing up in the arena. “As is the life of a demigod.”

“I’m not a demigod!” Your companion complains.

“As is the life of…someone with bad luck? The two go hand-in-hand, really—” you trail off, standing back to observe the situation at hand.

Rachel laughed almost mockingly. Drawing back, a little hurt, you frown heavily. “What are you supposed to be? A child poet?”

Then, shrugging your shoulders, unable to back down to embarrassment, “You never know. There’s time yet. And I’m not a child, Rachel, I’m nearly sixteen. You’re younger than me!”

She eyed you up and down. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?”

A shrill scream, like nails on a chalkboard, rang from behind. Both yourself and Rachel jumped violently, stumbling aside as Kelli, who had been keeping guard, was suddenly lifted in the mouth of a giant, black Mastiff and thrown over the edge of the arena. She screamed as she hit the ground, your stomach churned with the sight, before she promptly exploded in a puff of golden dust, sent right back to Tartarus.

For a moment, you stand, jarred, overlooking the arena, hands perched on the rail edge. Chaos has broken out below.

“Come on!” Rachel snatches up your sweater, yanking you away from the overview. “Let’s go!”

Sliding across sand-dusted ground, you find Percy waiting impatiently at the bottom, looking left and right anxiously. The giant hound, Mrs O’Leary, is leaping in your direction like she’s had too much sherbet and chocolate, tongue lolling, eyes bright.

“Hurry up!” Percy urges with an impatient and nervous look on his face. “Go, go, go!”

The three of you take off out of there, following the path the whole way through with the assistance of Rachel, guiding the way.

"Left!" She'd shout, taking a dramatic turn down what looked like the chute for a body bag to be thrown down. At the bottom stood a set of rusty metal doors, and when you reached them, they flung open with monsters waiting on the other side. Trying to run back up the chute in complete darkness, with horrific noise catching up from behind, had to be up there with the worst experiences of your life. To put it into perspective; imagine getting up in the night for a glass of water, not turning on the light in the hall, and knowing there is something waiting for you in the dark, only you can't run fast enough away. Pretty terrible.

Later on, at a New Years Eve party, you chewed Rachel out for that for that incident, and would continue to do so for the rest of your lives.

Despite the heart attack you experienced as you made your getaway up the body chute, you found the energy somehow (and the breath) to acknowledge the extra member of your group, tagging alongside Percy, like a lost puppy. A slender boy a teensy bit older than you, whose sword carried some sort of essence providing a little bit of light, bouncing off of his silk-like ebony hair, and the patch covering his left eye. Lights lit your path in the dark, running down the hall toward two new sets of doorways.

"The far right door!" Gasped Rachel, holding on to the wall for support. "That's the right way. I promise this time!"

The mysterious new guy barrelled on through the right doorway first, a good job, since you didn't fancy being that room's experiment. As he flung the door open, daylight blinded you, and a horrible sense of deja vu overcame you. Disorientated, you stumble out to the sidewalk, throwing aside an old couple into the path of the cab rank. Cars blare their horns, and the old couple are looking at you like you've killed their dog or something. As the feeling fades, you're left with what you can only describe as horror, like some sickness is lingering under your skin, rotting from the inside out. You stumble over the edge of the sidewalk, directly into oncoming traffic, and find your eyes drawn up to the clouds of smoke from an industrial site across the street, billowing into the sky at a hundred miles an hour.

"Hey!"

Turning your head, you find Percy gripping you by the wrist, confused and his eyes swimming with concern. "I've been talking to you. Didn't you hear me?"

You shake your head no. "Sorry," you breathe. "Must've...missed you."

He looks back and forth between your eyes. They sting, for some reason. "I've been standing here for ages."

"Well, nevermind that, then. Just got confused. Did we not come out of the same place or something? Where's Rachel, anyway."

There’s no sight of the redhead on the streets, not even when you spin in a circle four times and shout ‘RACHELLLLLLL!’ with no shame, while Percy ducks his head and avoids all eye contact with the public. Thunder cracks high above, and a couple of tourists tip their cameras to the sky to take pictures.

“Damn,” you shrug your shoulders. “She must be lost to the Maze. Shame. Let’s go home.” You spin on your heel. Percy grabs you by the collar and pulls you back across the sidewalk.

“We’ll go back in,” he decides firmly.

“Huh?!” Outraged at his suggestion, you plant your feet solidly into the concrete. You throw your hands out around the pole of a streetlight. “With that lot still in there? Fat chance!”

Percy flaps his hands around like he’s losing patience, and then waves one at the doorway you ran out of. It’s a thin sheet of metal, with bullet holes all over.

“We can’t leave a mortal in the Maze!” He exclaims, and stresses a line between his eyebrows.

“But she knows the way!” You emphasise. “She can see it, apparently, which I think is a load of bull. If she could see her way in there, she can see her way out, can’t she.”

“Fine,” he turns his back on you. “Stay on the streets.”

“Well you can’t go back on your own!” You fume, running to catch the door before it shuts without you. “I mean come on, Percy, use your brain.”

You see him smirk for a split second, before the door slams shut behind you, casting you into darkness. It’s so dark you can’t see your hands in front of your face, or Percy, for that matter.

“Are you still there?” You ask. He hums. A warm hand slaps your nose. “Ow!”

“What is that?” Percy laughs. It feels stark when you’ve lost a sense. “Is that your eye?”

“My nose!” You hmph!. “Do my eyes usually stick out directly?”

“When you don’t get what you want, yeah.”

“Liar. What now, anyway? You got a flashlight?”

“Yeah, let me just pull it out of my a—”

“Aaaaaaalright, that’s a no.” You sigh through your nose. “We’re back to the hand on the wall, I guess. Hold my shirt?”

Percy’s fingers find the space between your shoulder blades, before you set off, following the maze around with your hands out on either side, touching both walls. It’s incredibly claustrophobic in here. When you call for Rachel every few metres, your voice barely echoes thanks to the small confines of where you find yourselves. You’re not keen on Rachel, but knowing she’s lost somewhere down here isn’t comforting. You’d be terrified on your own here, so you can’t imagine how’s she’s feeling.

“Do you think she found her way out?”

“Huh?”

“Rachel,” you add. “D’you think she found her way out?”

“Careful,” Percy flicks your back. “You sound like you care.”

You scoff heavily. “I don’t like her. Doesn’t mean I want her to get hurt. I’m not that bad of a person, Percy.” And then… “Am I?”

He sniffs. “No. But to answer your question, she said she could see the way. I believe her. I think she would have found her way out by now, at least.”

You nod, but he can’t see you do it. “Right. Right.”

You continue on in what is mostly silence, besides the sound of your breathing, and footsteps. That is, until a sensor light suddenly flickers by your feet, lighting the way. Paused, you hesitantly stick your foot out and watch the next one light up.

“Who needs Rachel, huh?” Nervously, you take the plunge to keep going. It was almost better in the dark when you couldn’t see what waited up ahead. You look up. And roll your eyes, abruptly stopping. Percy kicks the back of your ankle, pulling your foot from your shoe. “Oh, for gods sake, it’s a dead end. Turn around, go back.”

“Geez. Fine. Fine! But can I remind you—hold up!”

“What?” You snap, but stop trying to shuffle around him.

You scarcely see him when the light is by your feet, but you can make out enough to see him squint his eyes. “Don’t you see it?”

“What?”

He raises his hand and presses to your side, raising his pointed finger directly in your line of sight, landing on a thin strip of warm light, barely there. The dead end is in fact a doorway.

“Oh,” you mumble softly. “Should we—?”

You didn’t need to ask, really. Percy slid past you and headed straight for the doorway, raising his hand to slide across what sounds like wood until it lands on the handle. No sound besides the two of you was audible before he opened the door, but the second he did so, it was like stepping into a whole other world. The hum of mechanical things roared, like a presser and iron, and steam. A radio came next, classical music floating to your ears.

“Wait!” You hiss, taking off after him. Not only because you were scared with nothing behind you, but because you were scared of him going alone.

Behind the door lay a room as big a school gymnasium, containing bronze statues half-finished covered with wilting white dust sheets. One of them resembled your mother. The other was a small wood nymph. Looking past the statues, the mechanics and the tables, a huge window making up the majority of the wall opposite looked out over some sort of wilderness. It was raining, but the sun shone. No rainbow, though.

Percy choked. Stepping inside, closing the door, you jogged over to the table he stood before, admiring sets of literal wings. The feathers almost shone gold. Trailing the tips of your fingers across them, they might just have been the softest things you’d ever felt in your life. Although not symmetrical to a T, they were pretty damn close to being. You walked in a circle around them and admired the way light beamed off of the feathers, as if liquid gold had doused them. On the other side of the table, Percy stood mesmerised, and his face was bathed in golden light cast from the wings. His gaze dropped and lowered, landing on you.

And then neither of you were caught by the wings, but by each other. Your hair dusted your lashes and your cheeks and from the corners of your eyes it had changed shade, somewhat glowing gold and warm yellow on its own. The silver in Percy’s hair turned luminous, kissing his brows. His freckles were highlighted across his cheeks and nose, as if he’d been kissed by an angel. For some reason, a swell of unknown emotion came over you and struck you right in the chest.

Why did you feel so…sad?

Someone slurped from a cup, way behind you. “Welcome to Colorado Springs!” A man’s voice called. Turning to the source, the sound came evidently from the figure on a spiral staircase, overlooking the workshop from the second floor you hadn’t noticed right away.

“I know you,” said Percy with plenty of distaste. “Quintus. Where’s Daedalus.”

“I like your confidence!” He began to descend. “You’re very sure this is his workshop?”

“What else could it be?” You say dryly. “What have you done with him?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”

You lean your hip on the table. “I didn’t come all this way just to be told no. And I didn’t come all this way just to see you. I want answers. We want answers.”

Quintus came down the stairs. He had a sword at his side like he had been expecting you to turn up.

“You think that I work with Luke and Kronos.”

“I don’t think. I know.” You didn’t really. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re a smart girl. But you’re very wrong. I only work for myself.”

“So Geryon mentioning you was, what, a coincidence?” Piped Percy. “And Luke?”

Quintus laughed. “Of course! I’ve been everywhere.”

“Stop playing around,” Percy turned cold. “What have you done with Daedalus?”

“My boy,” Quintus stared. Rounding the table to near Percy, he said, “use your brain. I am Daedalus.”

Narrowing your eyes, you looked him up and down twice, for any indication that this man was in fact the man you’d been looking for. All you could see was a liar and a scumbag.

“Where’s your proof?” You jerk your chin at him.

Quintus grinned and tilted his head. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“Does it sound like we believe you?”

“At camp,” began Percy, “you were just a swordsman. Not an inventor. Or a crafter. You don’t seem a thing like Daedalus. You’ve probably kidnapped him and hidden him someplace back there.”

Quintus took the last sip of his drink and slammed the cup down on the side. “I am many things. An artist. A swordsman. An inventor. You live for so long…eh, you pick up a couple things along the way.”

“But you don’t even look like Daedalus!” Cried Percy. He waved a pointed hand to him. “I saw him in my dream. But you don’t look a thing alike.”

Something twisted at the base of your spine. Leaning forward, one hand on the table and the other rubbing the spot on your back, you had a sudden idea. “Daedalus would make himself a new body. Somebody capable of making a maze could easily do that. So that’s what you’ve done, if you are him, anyway. Am I right?”

Quintus winked, smiling with glee, now you’d connected the dots. “Right you are, my dear.”

You wrinkled your nose. “How’d you do it, then? How’d you transfer a human soul, a living spirit, to a machine? That shouldn’t be possible. It can’t be. Not really.”

“Did Hera curse Echo? Did Apollo turn Daphne? All of these things should cease to be made possible to the ordinary mind, and yet they are very much real.” Quintus lowered his gaze to the cardboard cup and flicked it, so it went rolling off the edge. It bounced once on the ground, and rolled to your feet. You looked at it and up again to Quintus.

“Quintus quite literally means ‘the fifth’, in Latin. My fifth body. I mean, come on, sister, you’re smarter than this! It’s been right in front of your face this whole time!”

You gagged. “Don’t call me that. I’d never be related to something as unnatural as you.”

“If you really are Daedalus,” input Percy. “Why did you come to our camp? What’s the point?”

Quintus shrugged, not bothered. “To see if you were worth saving.” Your eyes widened and hardened. “Luke had given me his version. I wanted my own.”

Percy laughed without any humour. “So you have talked to him. Luke.”

He hummed. “Many times, yes.”

“So what conclusion did you come to?” You butt in. “Save innocent people or let the world burn?”

Quintus smirked, and rolled his shoulders. He whistled loudly. “Wow! A poet in the making.” Your cheeks burned. “If you must know, I didn’t come to any conclusion.”

“Then let us persuade you instead. Don’t let Luke through the maze. Don’t let Kronos take over.”

Daedalus hummed and twirled his sword at his side. He watched the glow of the wings bounce off its surface. “The maze cannot be controlled.”

You scoffed heavily, and sidled slowly around the table, closer to Percy. Close enough that your sides were touching totally, you reached your hand around his back while Quintus wasnt looking, and dug your fingers into Percy’s front pocket, at his hip. His sword, in pen-form, sat waiting for you.

“So you can’t control your own creation?” You drawled. “What sort of inventor are you?”

He hummed a short laugh, low in his throat. Raising his eyes, Quintus stilled, an expression on his face like he’d been caught out, but sly. “An old one. I’ve cheated death for over two-thousand years. Don’t get me wrong, children, I want to help you. I feel, what you might call, guilty, even.”

You grit your teeth.

“Then help us,” Percy demanded. “Give us Ariadne’s string. Don’t let Luke have it.”

“Yes, that. I told Luke, I told him. I said, the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are his best bet. But he didn’t listen. Insisted on having it. And it works,” he nodded. Quintus leant his hip on the table. “Oh, it works. Perhaps not as well as your red-headed friend out there, but it is effective.”

Percy pleadingly held his hands out, taking a step forward. “Then, let us have it.” He asked. “Please. Don’t give it to Luke.”

Quintus then sighed, but he didn’t sound particularly guilty. “I’m afraid you’re too many hours too late.”

Riptide materialised at your side, the tip of the sword just touching the ground where your hand bumped your thigh, grip tight. You shook your head, and laughed mirthlessly.

“See,” you kissed your teeth. “That’s not what’s happening here. You’re going to get it back. Because what else did we take this quest on for?”

“What would my reason have been for preventing this? Besides, I never agreed for you all to do this.”

“You didn’t object to it!” You exclaim, raising the sword swiftly in Quintus’s face. The sharp tip of it lands on his cheek, cutting a straight line vertically. Oil poured from the wound, gold. “Back at camp, when you agreed to let me lead this quest. You didn’t object. And I think that it’s because, deep down somewhere, there’s a part of you that wants this all to end. That’s why you agreed to let me come down here in the first place. Otherwise, what was it for? You don’t want the Titans to take over, you just want it all to end. You’ve gotta be pretty tired after two-thousand years. If you just let us stop this! You’re going to let Luke and Kronos kill thousands of people all for the sake of peace and peace of mind?! You’re going to let them take over everything, end the gods, and for what? You’re going to bring down the whole world to get what you want? Well, I’m sorry—I don’t let selfish, bigoted men rule, here.”

“Here’s the thing. Kronos has offered me freedom. I don’t have that at the moment. Allowing the two of you to get what you want would set back so much. Understand this; sometimes, what we want isn’t always the right thing. The Gods have ruled for too long. Ignored things for too long. Kronos is going to fix it all. Mark my words. When he comes to power, I can be with my son again in the afterlife. Kronos will banish Hades. And I will no longer be running from death.”

“Death is the most natural part of life,” you shake your head. “There’s no avoiding it, for anyone. You’re really going to let millions of people die just to get what you want? The whole world.”

He nodded. The point of the sword dug into his cheek, though he scarcely noticed. “Your cause is doomed. End of. There’s no way anybody can fight off Kronos, even if we wanted to.”

“Pessimist,” muttered Percy.

The floor suddenly began to shake. Lightly at first, and then violently enough for the tables to begin to shake. Quintus threw a lazy look at the upper level.

“I would be on my way, were I you. They’re coming. And you are ill-prepared.”

You slowly lowered Riptide but held it between yourself and Percy, and Quintus. “That’s it. You’ve made up your mind.”

He nodded firmly. “I have.”

“You’re a disappointment to the world.” Percy snapped. “We won’t forget that.”

Quintus waved his hand to another door on the opposite wall, to your right. “Well,” he said. “It’s a good job you won’t be around for long enough to care. Enjoy the rest of your days, demigods.”

So what else was there to do, you wondered. Percy took you by the hand and led the way, gritting his teeth and not looking back. Was it the thought of your wasted journey, perhaps? The losing little Nico in a maze of whose creator couldn’t give a shit? Or maybe, the thought of impending doom.

You wandered through the dark for a few seconds, until you missed a step and free-fell in the dark, screaming. You let go of Riptide to grab on to Percy’s other hand, a mess of limbs in the darkness, until that darkness turned into a stream, and you found yourself heading straight for a lit tunnel that opened up to the Hudson. Percy tried to take the brunt of the fall, trying to turn you midair, but ultimately failed. Winded, you fought your way to the surface with Percy’s help, until you came up coughing on the bank, freezing cold.

“What now?” Percy pulled himself from the water, shaking his head like a dog. River water struck your face. You glared at him.

“Sleep on it?” You thought, angrily. “It’s late. Got to be. But if we leave it another night, things’ll only get worse.”

Percy sighed, digging his hands in his pockets. It didn’t look comfortable. His hair was stuck to his face. “We can’t go around the city like this. Let’s sleep on it. We’ll go back to my place. I’ll find out where Rachel is. She might know how to help us.”

Rachel. You didn’t say anything, sure your face was telling all, but nodded your head.

Sally Jackson had the most normal reaction to your situation. As a mom to a demigod, she’d probably seen and heard more than she let on in her life. Upon answering the door, and Percy’s incessant knocking, you watched Sally’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, before softening, and sighing.

“Come on,” she yawned, stepping back and rubbing her eyes. “Get in.”

Admittedly, despite the warmed-up cookies and a warm spot on the couch, you couldn’t fall asleep. Dressed in an old pair of Sally’s pyjama shorts and tee, wrapped around a spare duvet in starry sheets, you found yourself blinking with sore, tired eyes at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. There weren’t many left up there; glue residue telling tales of fallen plastic stars. They made you think of Zoe Nightshade, and so you rolled over, curled up, and listened to the hum of the refrigerator until you fell asleep.

this is short. and overdue. short and overdue. short and…you get the idea.

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