#and tartarus mentioned

[choking-on-your-alibis]

i thought this was funny 😭😭

[aroaceleovaldez]

i am once again thinking about Percy and Annabeth and their respective relationships with their step-parents, particularly how the other views the other's dynamic with their step-parents.

Because there's a really interesting subtle thing that we see which is when Annabeth talks about her step-mom to Percy, Percy's assumption is that Annabeth's step-mom is like Gabe. He just presumes that because that's what's familiar with him and based on his own experiences he assumes their situations are similar.

But then when Percy actually meets Annabeth's step-mom (and her dad) he realizes their situations aren't at all the same. He was expecting another Gabe, but instead he just found a genuinely caring family that was just struggling to find their footing with one another.

The interesting thing is that this implies an inverse - especially with what we know about how Percy and Annabeth describe their experiences. Percy doesn't really talk about Gabe ever. To anyone. Grover knows the whole picture there but he's basically the only one of Percy's friends who does. As far as we know, unless Grover told her at some point, Annabeth doesn't know about Gabe. She knows he was a jerk, but Percy out loud doesn't ever really get into details about it. She knows they didn't get along and eventually Gabe disappeared and Percy basically never spoke of it again. Presumably, Annabeth thinks Percy's dynamic with Gabe was like her dynamic with her step-mom, like how Percy had thought their situations were the same. Especially given we know Percy assumed their situations were the same and likely spoke about it as such if it ever came up.

Like. That's such an interesting tiny aspect of their dynamic that never gets touched upon. Annabeth likely doesn't know about this very core traumatic experience Percy endured before they met because she's operating under the assumption that their family just was a little rocky like hers was.

[unpublishediary]

You’re here, you survived, this is real.

(percy jackson hurt/comfort)

✵ synopsis: After your single trip to Tartarus, you’ve come back a different person, but not for the better. Everyone notices, but especially Percy as he becomes desperate for you to open up, hurt that you’re struggling in silence and knowing that keeping it inside is too close to tearing you apart.

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

warnings: mentions/talk of:loss of appetite, trauma, depression, isolation.

MASTERLIST -> reqs open !!

Percy’s breath caught in his throat once he met your gaze. The warmth that once radiated from your eyes had vanished, replaced by a chilling emptiness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Like a void so profound that it mirrored the darkness of Tartarus itself.

Seeing that endless abyss where your spark used to be, Percy felt dread settle in his chest, knowing that what you had faced was more than anyone should ever endure.

His eyes lingered on your cheekbones as they jutted sharply beneath your skin, casting shadows where there was once a healthy glow. He noticed how loose the collar of your shirt hung around your neck, the fabric draping over your frame like a shroud. As you shifted, the tattered edges of your sleeves fluttered, revealing glimpses of angry red scars given from where you once were.

The moment you returned, everyone noticed the slight tremor in your movements and the way your gaze darted around the room, as if searching for danger. Your fingers twitched at your sides, instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, revealing the unease that still gripped you.

Percy's heart clenched, a dull ache spreading through his chest. He recognized the haunted look in your eyes, having seen it reflected in his own mirror countless times. Each flinch, each hesitant movement you made, sent a jolt of empathy through him.

Hours later, as you sat at the table surrounded by friends, you felt an intense isolation. The sounds of laughter and clinking utensils faded into a distant hum, leaving you feeling detached. Your fork hovered above your plate, trembling slightly before you set it down, the food remaining untouched.

When you abruptly stood, your chair scraping against the floor, a hush fell over the room. The best you could do was mumble a stupid excuse before leaving behind a group of concerned glances.

Later that night, Percy's footsteps echoed down the hallway as he approached your door. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated when he heard the muffled sounds of distress from within. Instead, he rapped out a familiar pattern on the door—three quick taps followed by two slow ones.

The door creaked open, revealing your disheveled form. Your hair stood on end, dark circles etched beneath your eyes. The room behind you was in disarray – blankets twisted on the floor, books scattered, and a sense of anxiety lingering in the air.

"Hey…" Percy’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes scanning your face and noticing how you hugged yourself tightly, as if trying to hold yourself together—or maybe you were just cold. Without a word, he slipped off his hoodie and handed it to you, offering a silent gesture of comfort and warmth.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Your gaze fell to the floor, and your shoulders hunched inward, as if trying to shrink away from the weight of your emotions.

Percy glanced past you, taking in the chaos of the room, before extending his hand toward you, careful not to touch. “Can I?” he asked softly, his gesture conveying a silent request as he held out the jacket, ready to cover you with it.

Y You nodded, a barely perceptible movement, and followed him as he draped his hoodie over you. The cool air that had once sent shivers down your arms now seemed to dull in its effect. Walking through the hall was a welcome change from the confinement of your room, offering a brief escape from the suffocating atmosphere.

Percy watched as you leaned against the ship's railing, your fingers gripping the weathered wood so tightly that your knuckles turned white. The moonlight bathed your face in a ghostly glow, casting shadows that accentuated the hollows beneath your cheekbones and the dark circles under your eyes.

It was a stark reminder of the weight you carried. The effort you put into keeping it all together only seemed to deepen the strain, revealing that your attempts to hold everything in were, in fact, making it all the harder to bear.

"Talk to me," he urged softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes searched yours with an intensity born from desperation, as if trying to bridge the distance between your pain and his understanding.

You didn’t move, your gaze fixed on the dark waters below. The gentle lapping of waves against the hull filled the silence between you.

Percy inched closer, the proximity allowing him to feel the tension radiating from your body without quite touching. "I'm here," he whispered, his gaze locked on you with unwavering focus. "Whatever you need, just tell me."

A shuddering breath escaped you, your shoulders trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. "Every time I close my eyes…” you looked up to his green eyes piercing your own, his expression gave you the confidence to continue, even if your voice came out shaken. “I'm back there."

Percy's heart clenched. He knew all too well about the nightmares, but couldn’t imagine what plagued your mind every time you tried to rest. Thing things he could imagine you’ve seen...

You turned to face him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I don’t know how to do it. How to keep going."

Percy swallowed hard, searching for the right words. "One day at a time," he said finally. He had his share of what you were experiencing. "Even if it’s one hour at a time, it’s still progress. And especially remember you’re not alone."

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Without thinking, Percy reached out and gently wiped it away with his thumb. He felt you tense up for a second, until you leaned into his touch, craving the warmth and comfort of human contact.

"I'm so tired," you whispered, your voice cracking.

Percy nodded, his expression softening with the kind of understanding that came from knowing deep pain. "I get it," he said, his voice steady but gentle. "I know you’re exhausted.

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "But you’re here. You made it out, and that’s huge. It might not feel like it now, but things will get better. I promise you, they will. You’re stronger than you think, and this—everything you’re going through right now—this is just part of the healing. I know it’s tough, but you’re not alone. I’m here with you, every step of the way.”

You didn't respond, but you didn't pull away. Together, you stood in silence, watching the stars reflect on the dark water. The night was cold, but Percy's presence beside you offered a small warmth, a tiny spark of hope in the darkness that had become your world in so little time.

As the first light of dawn began to paint the sky, you felt something shift inside you. It wasn't happiness, not yet. But for the first time since your return, you felt a flicker of possibility. Maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to yourself.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

( part 2 soon )

masterlist -> for more like this

follow for more

[riordanverseaddict]

Last night, I dreamt of a kotlc fanfic. It was a three part fanfic the titles were "falling for you", "loving you" and "dying for you" and oh my god it was full of angst. I was kind of sad after I woke up that these fics don't exist. Now I'm contemplating that should I write them or not because that masterpiece (which I don't remember most part of anymore) needs to be shared

[purpleshadow-star]

Here's a reminder that Frank does not have adhd or dyslexia like most demigods, so he was stuck on the Argo II with at least five to six other teenagers with adhd at all times. I wonder what that was like for him...

[ladynicte]

Something that always breaks my heart is how during the House of Hades Nico is described as smiling and grinning actually pretty often, but later on in his pov he mentions that it's hard for him to do that, or really emote as a general.

Which means my poor most specialest little boy in the whole world Nico di Angelo was constantly going out of his way to mask and smile at the rest of The Seven even though he didn't know them basically at all.

And he had also just gone through literal hell while everybody except his sister was super rude to him the entire time.

And the whole time they are all just thinking about how he looks creepy when frowning but that they prefer that because his smile is even creepier.

They are all so mean to him whyyyyy

[crescentfool]

i've been doing a bunch of tartarus runs in reload lately, and it got me thinking about how i miss certain ways FES's clunky gameplay can characterize minato… (ramble about the great clock mechanic + leveling up party members in reload vs fes under the cut)

when i got to yabbashah block in tartarus (block 3), i remember commending the developers for adding the great clock mechanic. it's a much more convenient way to keep party members at the protagonist's level- so when you think about p3 from the perspective of trying to make it easier for people to play, the mechanic succeeds in this respect.

but now that i'm in adamah block, and that i've done lots of my once-a-month tartarus runs… i think that i got a little too dependent on it, and the way that i played through reload feels like a vastly different experience from how i played FES.

in reload, my party's levels are very lopsided. minato, yukari, akihiko, mitsuru, and fuuka are all level 90+, meanwhile junpei and aigis are at level 79, and then… poor ken and koromaru are at 71 and 64 respectively. (i never got to have a great clock for them…)

meanwhile, in FES, my party's levels were much more evenly distributed and were at least level 90. i did all of this manually for every monthly tartarus run because i enjoyed having options available for the taratarus guardians and monthly operations.

with how i perceive minato, i feel that the way i played FES feels more in-line with his character than me dawdling around waiting for the great clocks in reload.

FES's gameplay loop left me with the very strong impression that minato has to work twice as hard as everyone else in SEES does. it makes sense because, yeah, he's the leader, but something about having minato run through tartarus multiple times with different groups of people just to make sure that they are adequately prepared speaks volumes about his character, to me.

and while the tired mechanic is present in reload to some degree, most notably with allowing you to freely raise your courage stat when you visit edogawa after school… the tiredness system doesn't hit the same way that FES does, i think.

the way your party members in FES will call it quits when they return to the entrance floor at tartarus when they're tired, versus minato, in spite of all his tiredness and sickness, still pushes through tartarus because it's his responsibility…. idk!!! i miss that! i feel like this really hammers home the difference between minato and the rest of SEES, how minato doesn't really see himself as a human with needs worth respecting as long as he's useful to someone.

i don't think that tartarus being tedious (in FES especially) is not what most people would describe as fun, and i can respect people thinking it's a slog. but, regardless of how it feels to play, it doesn't change that FES's gameplay loop is a fundamental building block in how i perceive minato…

of course, i do recognize that you can just opt to NOT use the great clock in reload (and it's great when players are offered the choice to not partake in mechanics)! i definitely think that if someone really wanted to, they could manually level up party members, but i do feel that kind of playstyle isn't necessarily "incentivized" to the type of people who are into playing games for Having a Good Time. it's kind of like… "why would you do that when there's a much more convenient option available to you."

in any case! despite my woes, i do want to emphasize that i'm glad that reload has a much more smoother gameplay loop than the original P3 did, because it does make the game more accessible to people. having played both FES and reload, it feels very strongly apparent to me how the core gameplay formula of persona has really been refined in the past 18 years (to think og p3 was 2006 and reload is 2024.. time flies!). and reload has made revisiting a story that i love so dearly much, much easier because the gameplay just bops!

at the same time, due to my "i miss characterization informed by weird and dated FES gameplay quirks" woes, i still think that playing FES is worthwhile. (really, i feel this way about all iterations of p3! i think it's worthwhile to see what each version and side media has to say even if it doesn't Land™ for you.) but i also understand why people wouldn't want to play it, so i will keep writing posts about things i liked from FES's gameplay because i'm still very fond of FES (especially in respects to minato. these mechanics are so telling about him!!!) 💪

[notreallyanywhere]

What Tartarus smells like to the Seven + Reyna and Nico

I have not read Sun and the Stars yet. However, this is only partially based on what we've been told anyway. These are, of course, headcannons. Do with them what you please.

Nico: It smells like the day he found out Bianca was dead. Because he smells Percy's scent mixed in it, it's comforting. Which in and of itself is terrifying. He's in love, in the barest sense of the word, with what the body of Tartarus deemed his worst nightmare.

After HoO it smells almost the same but it also smells like the taste of pomegranate seeds and when you've been sitting in a car for too long that all you're really inhaling is your own recycled air. It's stuffy-er and hard to breathe. And yet it still feels like a blanket that's suffocating him. Like when he was six and Bianca and his mother wrapped him up in a heavy blanket and cuddled with him until he fell asleep after a nightmare.

Reyna: It smells like the day Percy and Annabeth released Black Beard and his pirates on Circe's island. It also smells like must and the forgotten attic in her home from before. It smells like grass and blood and sea water. It smells like her best and worst memories with her sister. It smells like betrayal and whispers of freedom that she can't quite reach. It also smells a little too much like the way the one person that Nico killed's ghost smelled with stone and cold mixed together.

Jason: It smells like a park. Wet woodchips and an old picnic blanket. It smells like the day he was taken away from his his sister. It also smells like the bath soaps of Camp Jupiter and like the metal of Reyna's dogs. Because even after everything, he's still afraid of going home; to call any place home lest he be pulled away from it again. Because twice is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern with only himself as the common factor.

Piper: It smells like her room back in the mansion she used to live with her dad in. Like spray paint and gasoline and the oils her dad always put in his hair and never kept the promise to show her how to use. It smells like ice, snow, and the coldest winter's day she could think of. Like she's twelve again and stealing her first car because her dad missed her birthday for the first time since she was born and she hadn't seen him in three months. It smells like Leo's death and Jason's last breath. It smells like losing everything she's come to care about.

Leo: It smells like motor oil and fire. So not only does it remind him of his mother's death, but also his own. He's one of the few who don't know that Tartarus is supposed to smell like your worst fears. Sometimes, when he's panicking and tired and far too deep into Tartarus, another layer of scent covers the rest. Like dust and mold and dirt and old leather. It smells like being forgotten.

Hazel: It smells like the first time she died. Like wet dirt and gemstones smashing together. It smells like an empty stable and Sammy's hair. It smells like cupcakes and "Happy Birthday"s and long lost love. It smells like her past but more bitter and distant. Because to her, going back to then, no matter how tempting it sounds, is too terrifying for her to even imagine. She doesn't want to know too much about what's going to happen, and she doesn't want to be exploited until she dies anymore. To her, going back to the past is far more horrifying because then, for the rest of her life, she'll be surrounded by living ghosts.

Frank: It smells like embers of a burned out fire. Like the material of his mother's army uniform. Like Lystrogonian breath and potatoes and a burning house, like burning memories. It smells like ibuprofen and headaches and dirt. It stings his nose like he just smelled something spicy. Because, at the end of the day, Frank is afraid of very few things. But what he is afraid of is tied deep in his roots, burning alongside him since he was born. No matter what animal he shape-shifts into, they're all afraid of fire. Because that's one of the few fears that isn't only human.

Annabeth: Tartarus smells like blood and gold and crumbling rock. Like the screams of her campers and the cries and pleas for death. It smells like spiders and tastes like cobwebs. Because sometimes, when a smell is so strong, it's like you can taste it. It smells like, just barely, her stepmother's perfume and like the detergent her dad used when he cleaned her sheets. It smells like Luke and cyclopses and the golden shower of monsters she once dreamed of. It smells like Thalia's scream of indignanance and defiance as she died. It smells like lava.

Percy: Aside from what we know, to Percy, it smells like gunpowder and blood. Like beer and smoke. Like every person he couldn't save. Like every moment he watched the light fade from someone's eyes just so he could continue living, continue being useful. To Percy, it has more of a physical experience. To him, it feels like water going up his nose and burning his throat and sinuses, but it never really goes away.

Along the lines of what we know, in comes a question. Why did the monsters never smell him? Simple, really.

Monsters tend to avoid other monsters. Or, what smells like them, at least.

Because Rick told us that Percy's Tartarus smells like Smelly Gabe, we can assume that The Pit, to Percy, smells the closest than any other demigods' idea of it.

So, not only does it smell like every time he blamed himself for another's death, but it smells like his old room. Like old beer cans and BO. Like nasty porn magazines and new decks of cards. Tartarus reeks to Percy of every moment he was alone with Smelly Gabe. Reeks like every moment he's ever doubted himself and something terrible happened.

[humandisastersquad]

So I have a fun time coming up for me with these audios

[literallyjusttoa]

Headcanon based on something I just drew.

When Apollo is annoyed he rants, when he’s angry he yells, but when he’s truly furious, he’s completely silent.

Many a mortal have died to nothing more than the sound of an arrow being let loose. In his rage, Apollo deemed their lives, and their deaths, unworthy of his voice. No requiem for the wicked.

[justmenoworries]

Hey, remember that the Fates were in LO? For like two episodes, one of which was a recap that just re-used old panels?

Because I do and I'm still mad about it

[aroaceleovaldez]

It's honestly wild to me that ToA went through so much trouble to emphasize the fact that Will did not magically fix all of Nico's problems and was explicitly not Nico's only doctor.

Only for TSATS to have Will fix all of Nico's problems and have Nico be entirely reliant on him the entire book and literally helpless without him and LITERALLY have Nico's problems be magically removed.

[unpublishediary]

Hello!! I just stumbled across your work and I really enjoyed your Percy Jackson piece!! Would you consider writing a Percy Jackson x reader where while they are aboard the Argo II they get in a fight with monsters and the reader gets hurt but is very scared to be a bother and thinks she can handle it herself so she hides her injury from Percy. Percy finds out somehow and takes care of her. I think it would be super cute! No worries if you decide not to do it though! Thank you so much!!!

Why didn’t you tell me? (percy Jackson hurt/comfort) part 1

part one ✵ part two-> (coming soon)

✵ synopsis: after a fight on the Argo II, reader tries to hide their injury but Percy is determined to find out what’s wrong.

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

✵ warnings: mentions of blood, pain, loss of appetite, isolation, loss of consciousness, and leo.

MASTERLIST <- & request info

After another attack on the Argo II you stumbled into your room, every step sending jolts of pain radiating through your side. Your breaths were shallow, each inhale feeling like a needle piercing your ribs.

You pressed your back against the door as you closed it, desperately trying to steady yourself. The wound throbbed relentlessly, an ache that seemed to consume every other feeling making your vision blur. You winced as you reached for the first aid kit on your desk, fingers trembling uncontrollably.

Just as you fumbled with the kit, trying to focus through the haze of pain, a sudden, sharp knock sounded at the door. The sound was like a hammer striking an already bruised nerve, making you freeze, caught between the urge to tend to your injury and the need to answer. Each second felt like an eternity as you struggled to suppress the groan threatening to escape your lips. Your heartpounded from both the pain and pressure to answer who was at the door without them worrying.

“Hey,” A voice from outside yelled along with a knock, their tone was friendly and casual, but you didn’t even know who it was, the voice lost to you from the searing pain. “We’re having a quick meeting.” The words cut through your mind fog, pushing you to act despite the burning pain.

You clenched your teeth, forcing yourself to rise from the door you’d been leaning against. Every motion increasing the pain, making it feel like your side was on fire.

You tried to steady your breathing but each inhale was a struggle. The thought of delaying the meeting, appearing suspicious, or making excuses gave you a sense of anxiety. The last thing you wanted was to seem like you needed attention when everyone was already worried about so many other things.

You took a deep breath, forcing a casual tone. “I’ll be right out!” you called back, quickly pulling on a hoodie to cover up the injury. The way it concealed any signs of blood made you satisfied enough to walk to the door.

As you walked into the dining area, Percy’s sharp eyes immediately noticed something was off. He watched you intently as his gaze flicked between your face, your bulky hoodie, and your slightly unbalanced walk. It was clear there was something wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Once you sat next to him, he leaned over from his seat, his face creased with concern as he whispered in your ear, “are you alright?”

You managed a reassuring smile, though the effort felt strained. “I’m fine,” you insisted, trying to sound more convincing than you felt. “tired.”

Despite your attempt to downplay it, Percy’s narrowed gaze lingered, worry evident in the crease of his brow. He was unconvinced by your casual response, eyes searching yours for any hint of what was really going on with you.

You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, adding to the ache in your side. You hoped that your forced demeanor was enough to reassure him, even as the pain continued to grow. All you had to do was make it past this meeting.

As the discussion about the rise in attacks on the Argo II began, the voices around you melted into a distant hum. Your focus narrowed, consumed by your effort to manage the sting on your side. The throbbing intensified with each passing minute, fighting for your full attention.

At one point, someone placed a plate in front you, but your efforts were absorbed in subtly pushing the food around on your plate, a distraction that helped maintain your composure.

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention or add to the stress of the situation. Your desire to avoid worrying everyone drove you to push through the pain.

Percy’s concern deepened as he observed the way you were acting. He was worried about how detached you seemed from the conversation, your responses were short and it seemed like your attention was elsewhere.

Thought the meeting his gaze frequently shifted back to you, brow furrowed in confusion. Each time he looked your way, it was like he was trying to read between the lines. Percy tried to convey a silent plea for you to open up, but you continued to do your best to mask your discomfort, hoping that your effort to remain natural would keep him from questioning you again.

But unable to ignore his concern any longer, Percy leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, earnest whisper. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His eyes did a once over, watching the way you were breathing, “you’re in pain.” It was only a guess but his eyes searched yours, concern evident in the way he leaned in. His concern made it increasingly difficult to keep your pain hidden.

His statement snapped you back into reality, forcing a smile as you whispered back. “Percy, I’m just tired, it’s nothing.” you insisted, but all he could do was grimace, he didn’t fully believe what you told him, but he left it alone not wanting to bother you further.

Minutes later, as Leo suddenly made an abrupt gesture—in an attempt to illustrate a point—the table suddenly jolted, causing the edge of the table to bump into your side where your injury was concealed.

The sudden, sharp impact sent a jolt of pain through your side, more intense than before. You tried your best to suppress a gasp, but the pain was almost unbearable.

Your face went pale, wincing at the the overwhelming sensation. You quickly looked up, hoping no one noticed the sudden reaction, where you struggled to steady your breathing. The talking around you suddenly stops, making your anxiety heighten in just a couple seconds. Everyone looked at you, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

Percy’s head snapped in your direction, “What? What’s wrong?” he demanded, his concern now fully evident. He quickly stood up to move closer to you. “What happened?

You winced, struggling to maintain a calm composure despite the pain. “It’s nothing,” you snapped, immediately feeling a pang of regret.

Your expression softened seeing the hurt in your eyes, and your voice became as gentle as you could. “Just a bump. I’m fine.” You tried to reassure him, but the strain in your voice betrayed you.

Percy’s gaze remained fixed on you. He wasn’t convinced by your response. “Let me see,” he insisted, reaching out to check if you’re alright.

You hesitated, eyes darting around to take in the group’s reaction. “No, I just need to go lay down.”

With a forced, apologetic smile, you made your way out, hoping to finally wrap your side and give the group the space to focus on their discussion without extra distractions.

As you made your way down the hallway, the pain in your side became overwhelming, each step feeling like a stabbing jolt. Despite your best efforts to stay upright, your knees started to buckle.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, walls blurring and swaying as the pain intensified. Clutching the wall for support, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to push through before the pain made you pass out.

And before you could fully collapse, you felt a strong pair of arms catch you. Percy’s face appeared in your line of sight, his expression filled with deep concern. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asked urgently. His grip was firm and reassuring as he supported you, helping you avoid hitting the floor. His eyes search yours with worry as he steadied you.

You were barely conscious, with your vision dimming around the edges. “My side” you managed to whisper weakly. The pain became nearly unbearable as you struggled to breathe.

Percy carefully lowered you to the ground, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m going to lift the hood,” he warned as his voice came out gentle but firm. He noticed the blood seeping through the thick fabric as you stood to leave and was grateful he decided to follow you. “When did this happen?” His tone was steady, though it was clear he’s trying to stay calm.

You didn’t answer, instead letting out a sound of pain as he peeled back the hood. Percy’s expression tightened as he revealed your injury, his focus entirely on you. He knew kneeling down beside you on the ground wasn’t what you needed. “I’m going to pick you up,” he said trying to stay soothing but he was really freaking out.

As he carefully lifted you, your side protested. “I’m sorry,” Percy muttered, clearly distressed by the pain he was causing. His grip was gentle but resolute as he hurried to the infirmary, “Just a few more seconds.”

As soon as you’re set down, Percy quickly sorted through the first aid supplies, his movements becoming more precise and urgent than ever.

Before the cloth could touch the blood, he paused. “This will sting,” he warned softly, his voice filled with reassurance. Then gently begins to wipe away the blood, his concentration evident in the furrow of his brow. Despite the tears forming in your eyes and sounds of protest, he worked swiftly and carefully, doing his best.

Somewhere in the middle of him focusing on the wound, you lost consciousness, your body succumbing to the pain and exhaustion. As you slipped away, the last thought that crossed your mind is a concern about bothering everyone further. The room faded into darkness as Percy and the others, who’ve just filed in, rushed to see what was going on, their voices becoming distant murmurs as you fell unconscious.

Part Two (coming soon)

MASTERLIST

follow for more like this !!

response: thank you so muchh, I love that you were my first request!! I decided to make this into two parts so the other will be published soon.

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

every couple months or so i just casually remember that oh yeah i'm a HUGE PERCY JACKSON FAN and also would die for kateva and so i will take any chance i am given to make my gay little cheerleaders from a musical nobody's heard of actually be demigods from what is probably one of the most popular book series out there and i think i'm so valid for that

[captainkingsley]

I am so so curious about what the relationship between Governor James Howlett and the Scott in his universe is like.

His Scott is only nineteen? Threatens to kill him? Are they serious threats? Or is it in more of an empty threat a young adult might use to lash out at an adult in power? James is the Governor-General of Canada. Are they assassination threats? Are they the kind of frustrated words said during training or sparring?

And then this? He seems pretty proud of the Scott that isn't his. I wonder if he sees his own Scott in him. If he hopes his world's Scott winds up so brave.

[demons-and-demigods]

Demons and Demigods Part Six: Tartarus

Edit 4/12/24: okay so I might come back to this part and rewrite it at some point. I'll make a second post for that just to keep this one around bc i do like it, i just think it could be More lol

Alright, so this part is gonna be part hand-wavey transitions part written scene. I didn't want to split it up, so you'll just have to bear with me here for this one. This part also features dark!percy and, you know, The Horrors. Let me know if you want any warnings added to this one and I'll add them.

They get to Rome, split up to do their things, find Nico, fight the twins, Annabeth finds the Athena Parthenos, etc. Sam and Dean are stuck in Mystery Spot the same day Percabeth falls into Tartarus. And because demigods are ~weird~ they can all sense that something is off each repeat (especially because Percy and Annabeth seem Extra Off), and the Wednesday that Dean dies and then stays dead for four months is really fucking weird bc the demigods are just like, they know that nothing they do now is gonna stick they can feel it and Gaea and the Giants have like, stopped pulling shit so they’re just like wtf is going on. Then the world resets again and Percabeth has just fallen into Tartarus and off we go to continue the story. The demigods can sense that whatever was going on is over now and they hustle to get back to work.  

Percabeth did not get reset because Tartarus works different and is beyond the reach and powers of a trickster (even if said trickster is actually the archangel Gabriel in disguise) so they were falling for longer than is canon and then spent a lot longer down there than in canon bc I’m a sadist <3 so the Percy and Annabeth that the rest of the seven interacted with on each reset were just illusions repeating canned lines.

(I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this is my au and I can fuck with the timelines if I want to, so I am. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. I'm just having fun, don't think about any of it too hard.)

Now begins The Horrors.

Percabeth is in Tartarus dealing with The Horrors for like, a year. Between the topside Mystery Spot resets not affecting the Pit and time working differently down there anyway, it’s a long ass time for them. Tartarus is Large, it takes a long time to traverse its expanse. They suffer through drinking the fire water and trying desperately to stay alive to make it to the Doors. It’s been months and they’ve both started to lose themselves a little to the nature of the Pit. Percy is a little more vicious when cutting down monsters, Annabeth is a little slower to reign him in. It’s . . . almost easier down there. It’s all cut a dry. It’s just kill or be killed. It’s us or them. There is nothing but fight and kill and stay alive and always keep moving. It’s simple.  

Bob shows up and it’s a reminder that there’s more out there, a reminder of who they were and what they’re fighting for when they had begun to forget that there had ever been anything other than Hell. They regain a little bit of who they were before the Fall.  

The arai fuck shit up real bad lmao. They fight and get cursed and then Annabeth is blinded and she can’t find Percy and Percy is enraged. He stops caring about anything but getting to her, he doesn’t care about all the curses he is taking on, he can’t feel the pain of them anymore. The arai fall all around him with every swing of his sword. The curses pile up and still he doesn’t stop. They mean nothing in the face of his rage and desperation to get back to Annabeth’s side.  

And then it happens. He cuts down an arai and then he’s on the ground. Annabeth is still calling for him and the arai are laughing at him. The curse of Phineas, they cackle. A slow, painful death for the son of Poseidon who has caused so much suffering and pain; it is fitting.  

Percy is in unbearable pain; his blood is boiling in his veins and his skin is sloughing off his bones. His head is pounding and throbbing and he thinks it might explode. His muscles are burning and tearing themselves apart as his bones liquify. He knows that he is dying and fears that he won’t. Still he tries to get up, tries to stand and continue fighting. He refuses to go out without a fight, and he refuses to leave Annabeth to suffer the nightmares of this place alone.  

He manages to get back to his feet, although he has no idea how, and he has not the strength to lift his sword, barely the strength to grip it. And so he lunges, ripping the arai apart with hands and teeth as he burns, everything burning burning burning. But Annabeth is always just out of reach and his strength cannot last forever. He goes down. His vision is fading and he can’t tell if he’s breathing, he’s not even sure he has lungs to breathe with anymore. With the last of his strength he turns his gaze to the vaguely silver outline of where Bob is standing off to the side and prays. He begs with the shredded remains of his deteriorating mind for Bob to keep Annabeth safe. He apologizes for never visiting, for being a bad friend.  

And then the lights go out and Percy knows that this is it. He has a moment to wonder if his soul will remain trapped in Tartarus for all eternity or if it will manage to escape. With his luck, he doubts it.  

Bob moves, then. He clears away the arai and grabs Annabeth before she walks off the cliff. He heals her and carries her over to where Percy is lying still on the ground. Annabeth begs Bob to help him, cradles him in her arms and tells him that he can’t die, he can’t leave her to find the Doors alone, she needs him. Bob tries to heal him.  

Percy is a gruesome sight. He’s bleeding from a hundred different wounds, one of his legs looks broken and there is bone sticking out of his arm. He’s covered in blood and bruises and burns and he’s far too cold.  

Bob manages to fix most of the wounds and heals the broken bones. But the gorgon’s blood poison is beyond his abilities to take care of. They head to Damasen’s.  

Annabeth is wary, but desperate, and Bob is holding Percy so she had no choice but to follow.  

Damasen helps them, albeit reluctantly. Percy slowly gets better. Annabeth is thankful for the weeks of rest they get at Damasen’s hut while Percy recovers. Eventually, however, Percy is as healed as he is going to get in Tartarus, where the very air they breathe is slowly killing them, and they need to move on.  

It’s slow progress, heading towards the lady Bob says can help them with the death mist stuff, but they make it. Bob couldn’t come with them all the way, but he promised to meet them afterwards.  

And then Misery herself shows up and she is going to kill them. After everything else they’ve been through, after everything else they’ve done to get this far, they’re going to die at the hands of a sniveling, whining old hag? No.  

Percy is angry. He is furious. He wrests control of the poison from her and reverses its flow. He grabs hold of her tears and snot and saliva and forces it back, making her sob harder and it only gives him more to work with. Annabeth stands back and watches.  

Percy sees just how much misery Misery can take. She is begging him to let her go and he can’t help but laugh. It’s pitiful, how quickly she’s given in, given up. That cracked glass orb somewhere in the core of him shatters. And all of a sudden, he can feel. He can sense the congestion rattling in her lungs and the ichor pumping through her veins.  

He wants to grab hold of it, grab hold of everything in her and make her scream. He wants to make her feel even a fraction of the pain that he and Annabeth have had to endure down here.  

But then Annabeth’s ghoulish hand is on his arm and he turns to look at her and her eyes are sharp, even from beneath the guise of the death mist, and she shakes her head. He tilts his, asking, are you sure? He can kill this goddess, he is suddenly certain of this fact, and he would, if Annabeth told him to. She shakes her head again.  

He clears a path and lets Misery go.  

Nyx is frightening, yes, but Percy can feel the ichor in her veins just as easily as he could in Misery’s. He is not as afraid as he knows he should be.  

They survive the House of Night and make it to the other side intact.  

Percy can sense Annabeth’s heart pounding as they run, can feel her blood pumping and it makes his head throb, but they don’t have time for him to think about it, so he shoves it to the back of his mind and carries on.  

They meet up with Bob. Percy can almost hear the ichor in his veins and he can sense every movement Bob is about to make, can feel his muscles tense and stretch.  

They make it to the Doors and Percy can hardly think over the sound of all the blood pumping within the horde of monsters before them. It echoes in his head, gallons of blood and ichor roaring in his ears. He stumbles and Annabeth catches him. He can’t hear her worried questions over the pounding in his head.  

He gets it under control.  

They make it to the Doors and cut one chain. They fight. Tartarus himself appears.  

Percy drops his sword. He claps his hands over his ears and screams. He can feel it now, the body of Tartarus coming to life beneath their feet; the rivers of the Underworld flow through his veins, monsters writhe around in pustules on his skin. They stand atop the thunderous beating of his massive heart.  

Percy can feel it all and he can feel his mind begin to fray at the immensity of it, at the truth of the Pit. Mortal minds were not meant to bear this reality.  

Annabeth is kneeling in front of him (he doesn’t remember hitting the ground) and her hands are covering his over his ears and she’s trying to talk to him but all he can hear is the rushing of the rivers beneath Tartarus’ skin. Bob is fighting off monsters and his brothers as the manifestation of Tartarus watches from the sidelines. Damasen is there (when did he get here? Percy’s mind is fracturing, he can’t think straight, he can’t keep track of what’s going on) and Percy blinks and Damasen has thrown himself at Tartarus and Annabeth is trying to haul him into the Doors.  

Percy tries to speak but he can’t seem to make his voice work. They need to stay, to help their friends. They can’t leave Bob and Damasen behind.  

Annabeth is crying.  

Percy reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and tries to focus only on her, tries to block out the body of Tartarus and the horde of monsters.  

Suddenly, Bob is there, scooping them up and depositing them in the elevator. “The button must be held for twelve minutes or else the Doors will open and you will die, trapped within whatever lies between here and the surface.”  

Annabeth tries to protest. Percy can barely make out what Bob is saying.  

“I will hold the button,” Bob says. “Thank you, friends, for giving us hope.” He glances over his shoulder at where Damasen and his drakon are holding off the tide of monsters and trying to keep Tartarus at bay. “We will do this for you, and we are honored to. You must hold the Doors closed on your side. They do not like the living and will try to spit you out.”  

Bob presses the button and the Doors begin to slide closed. “Please tell the sun and stars I say hello,” he says with a soft smile, and the Doors shut.  

It’s a long, long ride back to the surface. Annabeth and Percy throw their shoulders into the Doors, fighting to keep them closed. Annabeth sobs, but Percy still isn’t quite all there.  

The longer they’re in the elevator and the farther they get from the Pit, the more Percy begins to come back to himself. Annabeth watches the awareness slowly return to his eyes and his face crumple with despair as he regains his mind and can finally make sense of what just happened.  

They mourn, but they keep the Doors closed.  

Above, the whole thing with Pasiphae and Clytius is happening. The Doors ding. Leo throws a screwdriver to hit the button.  

The Doors slide open.  

Percy and Annabeth tumble out, still clinging to each other even as they collapse.  

They look dead.  

Clytius uses them to speak and everyone is pissed off, then Hazel and Hecate kill him <3  

Percy and Annabeth are alive, but only just. And they’re out. Nico and Hazel kneel on either side of them. Nico reaches out to clutch at the tattered remains of Percy’s shirt and Hazel grabs hold of Annabeth’s wrist.  

The others gather around and hold hands. Nico and Hazel shadow travel them all out of there.  

In the light, it’s worse.  

Reyna and Coach Hedge meet them on the hilltop and freeze. Hedge starts cursing up a storm and Reyna chokes back bile. Leo turns around and throws up. Frank gags. Hazel sobs and Nico feels like he can’t breathe. Piper turns and buries her head in Jason’s chest. He wraps his arms around her tightly but can’t bring himself to look away from Percy and Annabeth.  

They’re horrifyingly thin, emaciated. The tattered remnants of their clothes hang off their skeletal frames. Their skin was pale and sallow, their cheeks sunken. Their chests rattled with each shallow, labored breath. They were covered in cuts and bruises, weeping lacerations and half-healed scabs littering their skin beneath layers of dirt and grime and other nasty substances.  

The others wondered just how long Percy and Annabeth had been down there.  

Jason gently lifts Percy into his arms and flies him to the ship, Frank right behind him as a dragon with Annabeth carefully cradled in his claws.  

Reyna, Hedge, and Nico leave with the Athena Parthenos.  

Percy and Annabeth are settled in two beds in the small infirmary on the Argo II to rest. No one knows when (if) they’ll wake up. Someone is always with them, though. Be it Hazel gently wiping the grime from their skin or Piper carefully cleaning their wounds, Jason dribbling nectar between their cracked lips or Frank doing some physical therapy exercises to try and keep their muscles from atrophying any further.  

The boat was quiet and tense, everyone waiting with bated breath for Percy and Annabeth to wake up.  

And eventually, they did.