#bamf Percy Jackson

[mmavverickk]

give me more of Percy and Grover's empathy link.

give me random emotions flitting through their connection. give me Percy, confused why he's suddenly filled with righteous indignation at the skate park. give me Grover, feeling rage that's not his spreading through him like a storm, and immediately knowing something's wrong. give Grover Percy's satisfaction when he kills a tough monster. give Percy Grover's delight at how good this enchilada is.

give me physical symptoms. i want Grover to IM Percy every time his sinuses get stuffy and tell him to stop missing Annabeth so hard you'll literally see her this weekend. I want Percy to get a very specific kind of headache and immediately know that Grover's about to kill another oil company CEO, so he grabs the greek fire and goes to find Blackjack. i want Annabeth to notice Grover growing deathly pale, and when she asks, he just shakes his head and says, "we need to check in with Sally," and when they do, New York is in the middle of an unexpected cat 5 hurricane because she got mugged.

i want Percy to get sliced by a poisoned blade and Grover gets such a bad side stitch he can hardly move. i want Grover to get knocked out and four hundred miles away, Percy gets a migraine. i want Percy to get a toothache when Grover gets a bit of tin can stuck in his teeth.

i want so much more of these boys being so important to each other. i want my favorite best friends back.

[dandelion-blues]

#7 What if...

Kronos was a somewhat good grandpa?

Percy couldn't say he was relieved when Luke took that knife to himself, there was too much pain in death for that to be the case.

But nonetheless, in that deep seated exhaustion that wove in his very bones, Percy just wanted everything to be over.

Then, as Luke lay dying, his bright blue eyes seared into Percy and made him promise to not forget about the demigods, to make the gods be better.

Percy knew his job wasn’t yet done, because as Luke took his last breath, the shadows overtook the throne room. The hearth just mere embers, and a magical laugh echoed around the chambers.

Annabeth was crying over Luke’s corpse and didn't seem to notice anything wrong in her grief, but Percy did. He always noticed, even though Annabeth would most likely disagree.  She does call him Seaweed Brain after all. But just because Percy doesn't speak up about what he notices doesn’t mean he's dumb.

It's why, when his instincts screamed at him, he raised his sword just as a great metal scythe came sweeping down at him.

“Oh, grandson. I long since outgrow that boy's body, but you fought brilliantly. But now I am back at full power, you will not be able to stop me as you are. Still, for you to not only sense my strike, but stop it… I knew you were special. You really should have joined my side,” Kronos says, his words like honey, as he presses his scythe down upon Percy’s sword. Golden cracks were seeping from Kronos’ bronze skin, showing his divinity leaking through.

Percy snarled, his green eyes blazing with fury, “I'd rather die!”

And Percy looked over to Annabeth for help, but she was not moving, her tears frozen in time on her cheeks.

Percy froze in fear, his heart pounding. Kronos was no longer in Luke's body and his powers restricted. Kronos had his own body now, and his abilities were restored.

However, Percy’s freezing was a fatal mistake, as Kronos pressed on with more force forcing Percy’s sword from his hand.

Percy looked up, his eyes wide in fear as he stared in Kronos golden orbs.

Except as Percy’s sword came clanging to the ground and Kronos swung his scythe. The titan leveled the blade just against his throat.

Kronos croons, “Don’t worry grandson. I couldn’t possibly kill you when I see so much of myself and Rhea in your eyes.”

Percy startles and flinches as Kronos touches Percy’s face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Percy says, but then he feels a pinch on the back of his neck, and everything fades to black.

The last thing he hears is Kronos’ voice comforting him…

~~~

Kronos at first hated all these mortal pests that had the blood of gods in their veins.

Mortals weren’t worthy of such a gift.

Unfortunately, Kronos needed to play along with the pests' plans in order to revive.

However, how he started to view these pests, or rather just one pest, changed when he met the son of his Poseidon, his grandson, Perseus Jackson.

Perseus was different then the other pests - demigods. He was just twelve when Kronos first slipped in his dreams, and already Pereus was powerful, defiant, but then Kronos saw his eyes, Rhea's eyes. Kronos could barely stomach it when he swallowed Poseidon, his son with Rhea's eyes.

But now it seems that another inherited her eyes. The one who would be the doom or savior of Olympus. And should die when he was sixteen.

No, this one would not be the one to fulfill the prophecy. He couldn't be.

Kronos sent the boy nightmares, hoping he would pray to his father. That Poseidon would scue the boy. Except that never happened.

And so the next thing that Kronos could do was set his vessel to poison the daughter of Zeus, so a quest would be sent and the Golden Fleece would be retrieved to not only help heal him, but the daughter of Zeus as well, so she would be the one to fulfill the prophecy.

Of course, everything went downhill from there and that daughter of Zeus ran away from the prophecy and gave it to his grandson.

Huh? When did Kronos start thinking of Perseus as his grandson? From the moment he saw Rhea's eyes.

And after his grandson saved Artemis and by holding Atlas’ weight the gods voted to kill his grandson!

As if he hasn't already saved them and proven himself before!

It made Kronos resolve to tear Olympus down all the more.

And so, even as he had to fight his grandson to do so, he would, for Perseus for power.

Of course no one but Kronos himself knew that he would never mortally injure the boy. It's why when his scythe, which is said to suck the life from one's soul, struck, Perseus was merely fatigued.

And Kronos regularly asked for updates on how Perseus is doing from that daughter of Aphrodite.

It's how he found out Perseus’ powers were growing every day, he was long on his way to ascending.

Oh, and how that daughter of Athena was trying to shackle his grandson to mortality by seducing Perseus of all things. As if that girl would ever be good enough for his grandson! She, he always calls him stupid, and tests him at every opportunity. No! Kronos would not stand for that!

Then, the final battle came. Unfortunately his spy turned traitor and died, but it didn't matter because the battle lines were drawn. And Perseus was practically glowing in his divinity.

It would be soon!

Perseus made his choice, but it was too late to stop Kronos, for he was already healed.

And Kronos fought Perseus one on one. The boy didn't even notice that he glowed, his veins golden. Too fueled by anger to stop and think why he could still move when Kronos stopped time, and that daughter of Athena did not.

Unfortunately, when he noticed that time was stopped all around him, the boy froze, and Kronos took the advantage.

And when Kronos saw the wide eyed fear in those green eyes he reassured him that he would not kill him. How could he, when he came to care for the boy?

However, Perseus startles and flinches as Kronos goes to comfort the boy by face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, knowing the boy is too brainwashed by the gods and too young to understand, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Perseus says, but Kronos swiftly pinches a nerve on the boy's neck, and the boy slumps forward into his open arms.

Kronos whispers to his grandson comfortably and holds him like a little one to his chest, “Don't worry, I'll take care of you, my grandson.”

Notes:

Whelp! At least Kronos doesn't want Percy to die. Maybe he'll even do alright with being the new prince of the Titans.

First - Previous - Next "What if...?"

[crystalli-69]

Fuck man, i need to find this post where it's like an Alternative Blood of Olympus thing? It's like an Alternative to the fight with Gaea, where Percy is like full on bloodblender powers and he tells Jason to lower him down and Percy just makes the monsters explode as soon as he touches the ground. And everyone is like whaaatttt or something like that😭

Help

[percabeth4life]

So... I had.. a Thought.

I know Camp half-blood isn't really like a military (even if it does essentially train child soldiers (still better than Camp Jupiter)), but it kinda was one during the wars, right?

I saw a post with a line from.. botl? I think.

Anyway, it was about Khiron telling Percy not to go out and fight until part of the way through the battle so they could send him where they were having the most trouble, and-

Percy really is chb equivalent of a strike team. At least during the titan war.

Like, I know it because he's supposed to be like the big hero of the prophecy and everything, but if chb was like 5 degrees more militant, he would have straight up been like a one man strike team, wouldn't he?

Or have I read this wrong. (Entirely possible, my mother has been watching war movies for the past 2 weeks, and my brain is the world's most stressed carousel of scavenged material on a good day.)

He really is, especially with Annabeth.

He was the Big Player that they held back until they needed back up, because he is strong enough to act as that back up and it's best to hold him back until he's really needed so he isn't tired from fighting early on.

He and Annabeth held back in book five as well, becoming a two man strike team who kicked ass when they went into battle. Percy singlehandedly ended that battle after Annabeth was hurt too.

So yeah, he would be a strike team (probably with Annabeth) for sure.

[theficdealer]

“In a world where the unthinkable happened the Seven are desperate. Everyone and everything they love and know is gone, wiped away by Gaia and Her minions. They have watched their parents and friends fall and were unable to stop the end. So it is with desperation and half a plan that they decide to change things. To go back, all the way to the beginning, and try again. What will change with their knowledge and skills? Who will they save, who will they lose? What, if anything, can they do? There's only one way to find out.”

—Summary of The Lingering Thought (part one of Ichor in Their Veins) by Bekbek on ao3

Time travel fix-it fic which embraces feral, op percabeth and codependent Seven+Nico. Possibly the best pjo time travel fic I’ve read

I honestly don’t know whether to be upset that it took me so long to find this one or happy that it was already complete when I did because you bet your ass i binged this whole series last night and finished it off during work today. I Love this series. It’s so well-written. The author considered so many little things that I never would have thought of, made Amazing character choices, and made me love the idea of the seafam even more.

Things I loved about this fic:

percabeth (which is surprising, im not usually the biggest fan, but the author wrote it w e l l

Styx being a troll

Biblically accurate frank zhang

Percy intimidating tantalus

Percy’s ascension creep

the Seven sleeping in a puppy pile

The seven being vaguely poly??<3

Percy with a trident

Clarisse

Clarisse with Baby (not hers. legally speaking)

Annabeth gives herself powers like a boss

Poseidon: hi percy/Percy: …hm

Amphitrite: hi Percy/Percy: OMG HI!!!

The many (many) times the authors autocorrect messed up Amphitrite’s name (affectionate)

Bessie!!!

The gods having absolutely no idea how to handle this kid

Clarisse calls Percy “Puddles”

The Percy-Ares fight

The battle of manhattan made me cry at least four times (yes im listing this as a positive)

Annabeth<3<3<3

G O R E A D T H I S!!!!!

[haltnook]

It had actually been a gift from Tony. He had tried to refuse at first, but Tony had insisted. Apparently “Everyone has a damn phone, Jackson.” and Tony had “no other way to contact you” and didn't “feel like learning the language of smoke signals.”

The File

denimbeans

[peecyjacksoo]

Me, wiping tears as I watch Walker's Percy beat up Ares: You're doing great baby!

[mrkeatingsblazer]

Yknow how Apollo is the god of truth; what if he had his very own lasso of truth. He’d be so upset that Wonder Women, a character based off his sister, would possess it. Any Demigod he comes by would point it out and say “omg like wonder women!” with stars in their eyes and he’d be like “NO! Like me😠”

I headcanon that he gives it to one of his kids once a generation to “spread truth” and the most resent Apollo kid to get it is Will.

Usually it takes a while for his kids to understand how to use it and Apollo was prepared to teach him but all of a sudden Will just lassos one of his siblings like a professional cowboy and asks ��who left the syringes out yesterday in the infirmary?” and they are confessing instantly. Apollo is shocked at how fast he picked it up and Will with a straight face says “you remember I’m from Texas right”

Apollo in fact forgot and confessed after Will lassoed him (“Your mom and I hooked up while she was on tour! How am I supposed to remember?!” He confessed still lassoed to a disgusted Will who gives him hay fever.) Camp half blood was never the same and Will Solace was more feared than ever.

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Twenty minutes later, Solace hurries out of his cabin in cowboy boots.

And jeans.

Nico gapes at him.

“Go go go go go, questions later,” Will hisses, herding him behind the Apollo cabin. “We are on a time limit, we gotta —”

“You’re wearing close-toed shoes.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes I wear the clothes that I own. Wild. Let’s go.” Will tugs, uselessly, on his arm, but Nico’s half-certain his jaw has taken root in the ground, cementing him in place, because what the actual shit.

“Solace, you wore flip-flops to the snow-smothered bus stop in January. I thought you had, like, a condition!”

“I do have a condition. It’s called You Are Not Hurrying, Death Breath, let’s go —”

This time when he pulls, Nico stumbles after him, ducking under windowsills and inching around flower gardens. Every time someone so much as looks in their direction, Will plants both hands on his chest and shoves them into a corner somewhere, craning his neck to watch until they move on. Every time he does, another piece of Nico’s soul breaks away from his body and descends into hell. There is an actual trail of bones and tilled earth and dead grass behind him. Will doesn’t need to worry about being stealthy — the death aura of Nico’s dignity is large enough to scare off anything within a four mile radius.

“In here!”

Undeterred by the death aura, for some reason, Will seizes his bicep and shoves him in a crack between the Hypnos and Dionysus cabins. He slips in a millisecond later, crowding him against the warm bricks, forearm pressed awkwardly next to Nico’s head.

“Hnggh,” Nico gasps, mournfully wishing his last sliver of self-respect goodbye. Rest in fucking peace. “Do you have to be so — close, Will, gods —”

“Shhh!”

“If you shush me again I am going to rip your throat out —”

“Go, go, go!”

Yanked forward again, Nico doesn’t have the time to finish his threat. This time, at least, they sprint the final stretch to the shed without any more hiding and shoving.

Thank all the fucking gods. One more second of Will’s stupid torso — since fucking when does he wear polo shirts, huh, what the shit fuck is up with that — pressed against his and Nico’s bronchitis was going to come back. And this time he’s going to succumb to it.

“Okay,” Will says. He stands in front of a tarp-covered lump, gripping one side and jutting his chin out at the other. “On three, we tear this off and start pushing. We need past Thalia’s tree in under thirty seconds. Got it?”

“No,” Nico says stubbornly, “you still haven’t explained what the rush is —”

“One two three go!”

Will, unfortunately, has been tricking ADHD teenagers into doing things they don’t want to do for years, so Nico’s ripping off the tarp and shoving the chariot out of its stall faster than he can register what he’s doing. He practically sprints to keep up with Will, chariot wheels creaking happily as they rush over stones and sticks and forgotten weapons.

“We’re leaving now, Chiron! Bye!” Will hollers, moving too fast to give him a second to respond. Luckily, Chiron is similarly busy, galloping after a speeding Harley without more than a backwards wave and a sharp don’t die, please!

“That dynamite I gave Harley’ll only keep everyone distracted another thirty seconds,” Will mutters, ignoring Nico’s alarmed the fucking what you gave Harley, “so we need to move, let’s go.”

“Will — slow down a half fucking second, Christ, not everyone is seventy percent leg — we don’t even have pegasi!”

“Will you keep it down.” Will looks back and forth, eyes wide, like he’s worried someone is going to pop up with a pack of the winged animals. “Just — stop asking questions! We’re almost home free!”

“You’ve gone insane. It’s finally, actually happened, after all these years, who woulda thought, fully bonkers at age sixteen —”

“Oh, shut up.”

Muttering his complaints, Nico helps him push the infernal chariot down Half-Blood Hill. Among his grievances, he makes it abundantly clear that 1) this is stupid, 2) he did not agree to physical labour, 3) he would not have agreed to come if he had known about the physical labour, and 4) this is stupid.

“Just a few more yards, then we can —”

“Okay, no, that’s it.” Nico lets go of the chariot, letting the wheel dig into the soft ground and send the whole thing halting. He meets Will’s pout head-on; arms crossed, jaw set, foot tapping, refusing to give into those big blue eyes.

“C’mon, Neeks.” A faint explosion sounds off in the distance. Will’s eyes get more pleading, more hopeful. “We won’t have much time after the diversion wears off…”

“You have three seconds before I turn the hell around, Solace.”

“Please?”

“One.”

He pushes uselessly at the chariot. It spins a sad little circle without someone pushing the other side. “Neeks!”

“Two.”

“Alright, fine! Help me push again and I’ll explain on the way down.”

“Much easier when you just do as I say,” Nico grumbles, starting to push the stupid (horseless and therefore useless) chariot again. “Isn’t it?”

Will, predictably, rolls his eyes, although he can’t quite help the smile that pulls at his lips. Nico tells the butterflies that go buck fucking wild in his stomach to go to hell. This does nothing.

“How much do you know about the chariot?” Will asks eventually, after a couple minutes of shoving the stupid thing past a deep trench in the soil, leftover from the war. (Nico is going to set the fucking thing on fire. It’s a flying chariot — shouldn’t it be lightweight? Why is he suffering?) They’re nearly three quarters down the hill, and it takes everything Nico has not to risk it all and shadow travel the last couple dozen feet. Yeah, it might kill him, but then his problem would immediately go away. Tempting does not begin to cover it.

“Uh, big source of drama, right? Apollo and Ares worked together to seize it, argued over who got to keep it?”

He cuts a careful glance over to Will, well aware it’s a sensitive topic. He knows the question isn’t a trap — Will would never do that to him — but it’s probably best to tread lightly. As far as he’s concerned, this is a sore point that’ll take more than a couple years to heal.

Luckily, there’s no tension to Will’s face. “Mhm. I wasn’t there for much of the planning, ‘cause I was busy in the infirmary and also, like, twelve, but it took a lot of time on both sides. When Michael and everyone seized it, though, it glowed gold.”

“…Ah.”

Will snorts at his awkwardness, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure made it hard for the Ares cabin to claim, as dicey as it may be. Here, help me park it on the side of the road.”

There’s a thatch of weeds and undergrowth separating the road from the base of the hill, so dragging the chariot over is a struggle and a half. Nico can’t help but think that this task would be very easy if the chariot was harnessed to a couple pegasi and flying over the fucking thatch, as it is meant to do. When he voices this very valid thought, Will does not respond.

He does walk into a thistle, though, so Nico feels considerably better about the whole ordeal.

“The thing about the blessing —” Will grunts, yanking the chariot onto the gravel shoulder with one final tug — “is that it’s not that big of a deal. My dad blesses shit all the time. Our cabin is blessed. The infirmary is blessed. Hell, half my scalpels are blessed, and I throw those things out all the time ‘cause they’re dangerous when they get dull. Just because my dad blessed it doesn’t mean we actually have to keep it.”

“Okay…” Nico says slowly, “then why was it such a big deal?”

“The blessing on its own wasn’t.” Will’s voice gets fainter as he lowers himself onto the pavement, dragging himself under the belly of the chariot. Nico is confused for a full three seconds before a particularly rough patch of asphalt snags Will’s shirt and drags, and wow, are those jeans low rise. His throat is suddenly very dry. “Blessing a chariot on the other hand…”

Will makes a dorky little noise of success, crawling back from under the chariot. When he resurfaces, he’s grinning, carved piece of wood the same material as the chariot clenched in his hand. There’s soot smeared across his left cheek, his curls have tangled themselves into more of a mess than usual, and there are three separate scuff marks on his nice jeans.

Nico ducks his head, hiding a smile. What a dorky loser. Even dressed up as he is (boy, has Nico fallen low, if he’s calling jeans and cowboy boots dressed up), he still manages to look like…Will.

A really, really hot version of Will, but. Whatever. Details.

“The hell is that?”

“This,” Will says grandly, feeling around the wall of the chariot until he finds a specific spot, “is the reason my brother gave a fuck about a dumbass chariot.” He sticks the edge of the wooden tool in a tiny groove, wedging it open to reveal a hidden panel and a small, golden button. Nico meets Will’s grin with raised eyebrows, impressed.

“What do you know about Michael?”

“Uh, not too much.”

“You think he, in any reality, would have had that much interest in a hunk of wood?”

Nico had scarcely met him more than a couple times, but Michael Yew made an impression, that was for sure. For someone who was shorter than Nico when he was ten years old, he sure took up a lot of space. In the few times Nico remembers seeing him, he’d been concerned with his bow, his camera, or showing any given person who so much as blinked at him wrong just how quickly he could turn their ass concave. If Nico is correct, actually, the one time he and a pegasus had been in the same vicinity, they’d hissed at each other. Nico didn’t even know pegasi could hiss.

He tries to find a delicate way to say this.

“He seemed more interested in other endeavours,” he says politely.

Will laughs loudly. “He would rather shove an arrow in his eye than race a chariot!” His bright smile is impossible not to match, and Nico is relieved to find him totally comfortable, relaxed; hell, even excited. Usually, any talk of his siblings, even fond, makes him quiet. He’s glad for this change, however unusual. “Man, I loved my brother more than anything, but he was the most ornery motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life. He taught me every swear in every language by the time I was nine, just because he knew it would drive Lee batty. He didn’t care about some spoil of war.”

He smirks, wide and devilish, and Nico’s knees go weak. Dimples like that should be illegal.

“He was smart, though. And he figured, if dad’s blessing made this chariot anything like his own…”

He reaches out and presses the golden button with his thumb, letting go and standing back once he registers a faint click. After a couple seconds, the chariot begins to glow, soft at first, then brighter, then Nico has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid the stinging burn, and then when he opens them, it —

He gapes. Will grins.

Where the chariot used to be, is now a shiny, brand-new, black and yellow motorbike, two helmets gleaming on the sparkling leather seat.

“…Then it might be a little more than some lousy chariot.”

Without waiting for Nico to pick his jaw off the floor, Will rushes forward. He tosses one of the helmets to Nico — which he barely manages to catch, still working on processing what the fuck just happened — and tucks the other under his arm. Nico happens to notice how his biceps flex with the action, and then vows to have his father bankrupt the entire polo shirt industry, because he can never be caught lacking like this by any mortal soul. It’s humiliating.

There’s a click as Will unlatches the seat, lifting it up to access the compartment under it. He pulls out a bundle mass of black fabric, and with a flick of his shoulders reveals it to be a fucking leather jacket and oh, gods, Nico takes back the polo shirt complaints, he can live with the polo shirt. This is too much. This is —

“Any time you’re done ogling at me, you can climb on,” Will calls out. He doesn’t even have the good grace to look in Nico’s direction, instead sliding on the seat facing resolutely forward, amused smirk on his face. And because he wants Nico to die, actually, he straightens his jacket, making sure it fits his shoulders right (by the gods does it ever) brushes his hair backwards (there is no genuine reason for someone’s hair to actually shine in the sunlight) and slides his helmet on. When he finally does look back in Nico’s direction, through his raised visor, the combined sight of his sparkling blue eyes and the cut of his face under the angular helmet actually gives him tachycardia.

“I hate you,” Nico croaks. “Not joking.”

Will throws his head back and laughs, baring his long, tanned throat. Nico follows the bob of his adam’s apple like Tantalus does the forbidden fruit. It’s horrible, and what’s worse is that Will is visibly preening like the fuckin’ peacock he is. Someone should remind him he’s basically a dressed up turkey. Or something. Nico’s brain is operating at twenty percent capacity, his ability to metaphor properly is a secondary concern.

“Just get over here, you goober. We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Shoving his helmet on to hide his flaming face, Nico does, sliding on with a healthy four inches of space between them.

“Mm, not gonna work, ParaNorman. This thing’s enchanted, we’ll be going well over a hundred. Hold on properly.”

Praying to seven different gods for strength, at once, Nico scooches the agonizing few inches closer.

“Hands around waist, Death Boy.”

“I’m fucking — I’m getting there, you asshole, gimme a goddamn second.”

“Do you need help?”

“I need you to shut the fuck up so I can focus.”

Maybe it’s the healer in him, or maybe there actually is a god looking out for Nico and they decide to have mercy. Maybe it’s a third option. Either way, Will reaches back and wraps his callused hands around Nico’s wrist, tugging them gently forward and resting them on the narrow curve of his hips. Nico holds them there, along with his breath, until some of the panicky tension starts to loosen in his chest, and he relaxes forward, resting his chest against Will’s back.

“There,” he says quietly, humming with approval when Nico’s arms link properly around his waist. He squeezes his clasped wrists once — a silent you good? — and waits for Nico’s minute nod, face buried in the back of Will’s neck, before starting up the engine, revving it twice before leaning forward, body flush to the bike. Nico can practically feel his grin, it’s so clear in his mind’s eye, in the delight thrumming through Will’s entire body, that he can’t help his own smile, too, can’t help but feel the thrum of the machine, the sharp smell in the air. He tightens his hold and Will lets out a loud, whooping laugh.

“Let’s ride, baby!”

With a push off the ground and a twist of a thrusters, they’re off, leaving behind only the echo of the roaring engine and the joyful, startled sound of Nico’s shriek.

———

next

[sentientsliotar]

CLARISSE HAS HER ELECTRIFIED SPEAR

They cut to Clarisse when Chiron says “there will be war” that is so dam cool

Daughter of Ares is representing her cabin.

Percy is not gonna have fun finding out about the spear but I can’t wait to see her use it.

[muclunga]

[Tap for better quality]

Annabeths while I deal with my horrendous fucking art block🥲

Also bonus points if you recognize the background(s)

[mmavverickk]

okay so imagine

Percy’s wrestling with a bad guy, full on wrestling, at each other’s throats, pushing to gain ground, grabbing at each other trying to get an advantage. and Percy, he’s strong, but his opponent is stronger. they go down, Percy underneath, bad guy’s hands at his throat, and we all gasp and think it’s the beginning of the end,,,,

and Percy, struggling, reaches down. slowly enough to remain unnoticed, he picks a pen out of his pocket. brings it back up, positions it right over his heart. flicks the cap off. there’s a wet squelch and maybe a rain of golden dust as Riptide grows out and into and through the bad guy’s chest. and Percy just lays there and gets his breath back.

anyway are there any fics with this? because i need fics with this. please and thank you.

[dandelion-blues]

Hold Fast, Captain.

A Percy Jackson and Pirates of the Caribbean adventure!

The Prince of the Sea.

Oh! the dead dare to dream.

The cursed sought to claim,

If only the red blood would remain.

You dare touch the Storm’s chosen,

The one crowned by black roses.

Yo ho! A pirate may lust,

But will never earn his trust.

So pretty, the pearl of the sea,

Singing the siren shanties.

Drown in the depths of his eyes.

Oh! He'll be your demise.

Yo ho! Dancing till dawn,

The Hero won’t be treated as a pawn.

Oh! Lavish him in your riches,

To evade swimming with the fishes.

~~~

Many a pirate felt the calling of the sea in their very blood. They felt the sea salt air thicken as the waves crashed against their wooden vessels. The clear sky seared into their being.

Oh, it was the calm before the storm, they knew. Something was coming. For the Goddess of the Seas called her fish back, leaving the pirates blessed by her domain without their meals. It was her way to protect all those of the sea and send a message to thee. Only a fool would choose to ignore it, lest they wished for their death.

Their dreams filled with a young man, his face never clearly seen, but had the eyes not of a man but of the sea. Oh, blessed one of the seas.

“The Prince is coming,” the Goddess whispered in their dreams, to all those traveling on her waters. Her voice like the very tides. Ebbing and flowing in a soft crescendo. But in her voice held power, a power that spoke of a Goddess with many depths. A low symphony to her hidden trenches, deep and dangerous underneath the crystalline voice of her shallow shores.

Oh, Goddess of the Mirror World. Calypso, the Goddess of summer tides, the sea’s storm and might, the rescuer of the souls lost at sea, and the final judge of all those who dare journey her seas! Don’t mistake her for the daughter of Atlas, for she is more powerful than thee. She is this world’s Goddess of the Seas!

~~~

Dark eyes open. He swallows deeply, his voice but a whisper amongst the ship’s rocking waves, “The Prince is coming.”

Jack Sparrow, captain of the Black Pearl, looks to the horizon. Somehow, he knows he's in for something grand once again. He’ll survive this trial, this test, from the Goddess of the Seas. He knows he can.

For now, though, he’ll be drinking his weight in rum to forget the coming storm.

Notes:

Here's a little snippet of this idea that I've had on the backburner for a while now, but I finally decided to write.

I honestly really love this! And there really needs to be more Percy Jackson and Pirates of the Caribbean crossovers!

Also, I am fully headcannoning Captain Jack Sparrow as Aroallo!

"...my first and only love is the sea." ~Jack Sparrow.

[lilislegacy]

HEROES OF OLYMPUS FANS

idea: young adult argo II crew being bamfs

i would sell my soul, and my best friend’s soul, and my sister’s soul, for rick to write a book with the argo II crew as young adults and just being absolute icons in a totally experienced way. no more questioning themselves like when they were young. they’re powerful and confident and nothing surprises them. they’re famous in the demigod world. they’re legends. they know what they’re doing. no one fucks with them.

i would have it start out kinda like how TLO began with percy and beckendorf’s mission. it would be like those movies where the main characters are breaking into some facility. only it’s some monster/olympian-enemy using said facility as a secret base for their operations (kinda like the amazons.)

it’s night. they’re all in dark clothes. annabeth and frank planned the whole thing. percy casually causes a massive explosion via a nearby water tank or something, causing a distraction and making everyone in the facility run out to see what’s going on. annabeth has the whole place mentally mapped out, and her and leo disarm every security system measure in like 3 seconds. frank turns into some kind of animal - maybe a monkey - and climbs/hops across the walls and ceilings, destroying the security cameras and sensors. any guards/civilians running past them only see what hazel wants them to see. and every monster who gets in their way is dead within seconds - they should not have messed with these demigods. piper plays on the fear of the guards to easily get information out of them. annabeth gets the objects they need, and then leo lights the entire place on fire. percy and leo can’t be burned, but percy protects the rest of them by triggering every sprinkler they walk under, which then turn off when they walk away. they calmly walk out through the front doors of the building - which is now up in flames - where there are dozens of police officers and firefighters and news channels around. they should be arrested/surrounded, except hazel manipulates the mist to make them all look like police officers and first responders. and frank is now a german shepard, a police dog, to really sell it. anyone who approaches them, piper uses charmspeak to throw them off. and just to be sure the enemy base is destroyed - and now that everyone is out of the building - percy causes a targeted earthquake, making the entire huge facility crumble to the ground.

then they just casually walk into the night, away from the mass chaos that they caused. the base is completely destroyed, but their enemies can’t figure out who did it or how it was done.

little do they know that the ones who did it just walked in and out, in plain sight.

[aftgficrec]

My favorite fics are soft andriel, and teen andriel.

Here’s my recs:

Raised on little light by maqicien

Falling is a lot like drowning by chaoticas_hell

This wasn’t in the prophecy (series) by Arirmis

(Account locked) Raise me up so you can watch me fall by Yes_No_ofcourse

And this last one is angst and dark but I do love it

Hiding scars under exy gear By rinz

Wow, that’s a lot of recs in one submission!  Usually we just get one or two 🤣. - S

You can find some of those fics here:

‘Raised on Little Light’ here (since updated)

‘Falling Is A Lot Like Drowning’ here (since updated)

‘Raise me up so you can watch me fall’ here (locked, now complete)

This wasn’t in the prophecy by Arirmis [Rated T/M, 73294 words, incomplete, last updated Feb 2024]

Percy Jackson AU where all of the foxes are demigods, Andrew meets Neil shortly after his mom dies, and joins him on the run instead of going back to camp. Part one spans from their first meeting to their first kiss; Part two will take place a few years later, when certain circumstances force them to return to camp, and Andrew has to deal with what he left behind, on top of their current problem. While both fics should be able to be read individually, it does make more sense if you read them in order :)

Part 1:  Cross your fingers, here we go (T, 25037 words, complete)

Millport is a horrible, dry as fuck little town in the vast nothingness of the dust hole that is Arizona, and Andrew hates it with vigor.  He has been tracking a horde of Manticores for weeks now, and isn’t that something? A half-blood having to chase after the monsters. He is starting to feel like one of Renee’s hunters, when Andrew is pretty sure the nasty scorpion-cats should want to kill him more then he wants to kill them.  Or, Andrew expected to find all sorts of things on his first quest. He didn’t expect a twitchy, blue-eyed half-blood with monsters on his heels, and he surely didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: child neglect, tw: assumed character death

Part 2: Mortal Bodies, Timeless Souls (M, 48257 words, incomplete)

„Minyard! Get your ass up and put some armor on! Abby, Greene, get the infirmary in shape, border control just spotted a motherfucking Drakon in the woods!“ As if Wymack’s order triggered it, a ear grating screech echoes all the way to the big house. The camp counselor curses. „Move it people, there are half-bloods out there that need to get to safety!“  Or, for two and a half years, Aaron has been grieving the brother he buried, only to learn now, that Andrew is very much alive. He also has a scarred little shithead in tow, that Aaron wants to punch in the face regularily. Life is fun like that.

tw: blood, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: child neglect, tw: assumed character death, tw: vomit

Hiding scars (under exy gear) by rinz [Rated M, 34309 words, incomplete, last updated March 2024]

Juggling a mobster serial killer household and high school is harder than Neil had anticipated. and that goth kid on the roof really needs to mind his own business. OR a high school AU where neil and mary never run from nathan and neil meets the foxes in private high school instead.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: imlied/referenced torture, tw: graphic violence

[theficdealer]

A devastating attack in Metropolis leaves promising young detective Percy Jackson in desperate need for a fresh start. A new city and a new case might be exactly what he needs to get his mind back on track. Or at least that was how he had been imagining things. Why the hell did he choose to transfer to Gotham again?

—Summary of The One-Seven by lildrummerboi on ao3

A police procedural in which Roman!Percy Jackson, transfers to become a detective in Gotham (Young Justice Cartoon variety) and almost immediately starts making waves in the local vigilante community.

(review+rambling below the line)

I love the way that this author writes Percy in general, and this fic specifically. Definitely have a soft spot for Percy being pissed at the gods, done in general, and bamf on main.

(The Percy/Dinah relationship is not my favorite, but that’s mostly bc I’m not particularly fond of Percy being paired with women. If anyone I think it should have been Giovanni Zatara, but again, personal preference)

Favorite Things About This Fic:

Percy’s very reasonable dislike (read: hatred) of Superman

Kaldur

Artemis being a feral kitten absolutely convinced she can take on war-torn, exhausted panther Percy

Percy being a bamf

The whole Arkham breakout, like, holy shit that entire section was phenomenal

The easter egg of Jack Drake being a rookie cop who wants to quit and become an archaeologist

The case was well written and felt realistic

Percy the Vampire Slayer

The whole runaway demigod arc

Renee Montoya<3<3<3

There’s definitely more bc its a fantastic fic go read it <3