#hoo one shots

[pumpkinbxtch]

HEYY!! I was wondering if you could do a Leo Valdez x fem Poseidon reader blurb with some smut but fluff in it. It’s the two on the beach and fem reader is just playing in the water and stumbles across a baby sea turtle and just has a conversation but after it’s just her and Leo hanging out together and going back to the Poseidon cabin(Percy isn’t home yet) and they have a quickie and makeout but Percy just walks in on them making out in her bed.. and after a few days Leo would rub it in Percy’s face as a joke.

“𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭��𝐚𝐯𝐞! ”

— leo valdez x f!daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings; recommended for +18, smut and nsfw things happening.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

tags; fingering, language, unprotected sex, fluff, some cringy things, sex jokes. a/n; I think I did better on this one! thanks for your request.

— Really? Oh no, but she was your friend!

The more the conversation went on, the less Leo understood what you were talking about with that turtle. In fact, he didn't even know you could talk to turtles, but the way your breasts looked in that swimsuit when you bent over was enough reason to keep watching while pretending to be interested.

You stood up slightly, and the sand stuck to your legs made him want to brush it off himself, grain by grain, just to be closer to you, or even inside you. Leo cleared his throat and tried to distract himself to avoid those thoughts, not necessarily because he felt bad having them, but because, what was worse than imagining it and not being able to have it right then? Because you kept talking to the damn turtle.

Ten minutes that felt like an hour passed, and he was getting more and more impatient to get you inside until he finally saw the oviparous creature head back to the sea. With a smile that looked more like a grimace of discomfort, Leo stood up and took you by the waist with a familiar expression on his face.

— How about we go inside? — he offered, his hands sliding down your back covered by the still slightly wet swimsuit. Your eyes curiously searched his, and seeing the way he looked at you and the warmth radiating from his body, you raised an eyebrow slightly.

— For something special, Valdez? — you teased, and he smirked sarcastically while intertwining his fingers with yours as he began to drag you to cabin three. — But, what about Percy? Uh– he could show up any moment — you stammered, and Leo turned around to carry you bridal style to avoid you stepping on anything dangerous with your bare feet.

— It'll be... quick — he murmured in your ear, and you squeezed your thighs at the hungry tone of his voice.

Quick as lightning, he pulled down the curtains, locked the door, and lifted you onto the dresser, not stopping kissing your salty skin. Anywhere your skin was exposed, he tried to leave a kiss or a bite.

He pulled you close to his body, and you moaned feeling his hardness against the lower part of your stomach, the thought of doing it this way had you too turned on. The adrenaline had you captive, and Leo was gripped by it. His hands roamed your body, and with a slap to your pussy, your breath hitched. He hummed and struggled with the elastic fabric that covered you to touch you. When he finally managed, he smiled while kissing the curve between your jaw and neck.

— It's always wet in the ocean, isn't it, babe? — his deep voice drew an unthinking whimper from you, followed by more as Leo played with your folds, making wet, slippery sounds that made you lift your hips involuntarily.

— Uh, Leo... — you moaned as he slid a finger into your pussy without warning, still kissing your neck. You impatiently wrapped your hands around him, holding on as he thrust into you, your legs trying to close until he had to place a leg between yours to keep them open.

Your juices ran down his hand, and as he felt you getting closer, he had to stop, drawing a whine from you. He gave you sweet kisses on your cheeks.

— Sorry, mi amor, but I need to feel you inside. Do you want that? — the last part came out as more of a plea, and you understood, seeing the sun setting. Dinner would be soon, and they'd wonder where you were, not to mention some of your stuff was still on the beach. With the same need he seemed to have, you nodded frantically. He roughly pulled you off the wooden dresser, turning you around to face the mirror on the bureau.

In the reflection, you saw Leo with darker-than-usual eyes and a cocky grin, noticing the blush on your cheeks at the sight of you both, hot and bothered. That tightened your walls, and you felt his long hands pushing you to lean on your forearms while nibbling your ear.

— Babe... — he purred in your ear, not taking his eyes off your figure.

One hand started pulling down a strap of your swimsuit while the other massaged your clit over the increasingly annoying fabric. Leo kissed your shoulder, quickly pulling down the other part of your swimsuit to free your breasts. He growled at the sight of your erect nipples and the remaining grains of sand on your body. If he had more time, he would have brushed them off one by one with you lying on the bed, but you were on a fast track.

— That's better — he said, pinching one of your nipples, making you lift your ass towards him, rubbing against his aching dick, already melting to be inside you.

— Damn, this damn swimsuit works wonders for your body — he mumbled, dragging the words as he pumped his dick, barely touching your ass, making you more impatient. His fingers pulled the blue fabric aside again, rubbing your entrance with his pre-cum covered tip.

— Damn, Leo, didn't you say you were in a hurry? — you complained as your hips sought deeper contact. Leo loved to tease and take his time, but you were right, time was short. He buried his length inside you, pounding his hips against yours with no delicacy.

Your velvety walls took him so well he thought he might come right then, but he tried to hold on a bit longer, watching his dick disappear inside you and the way your tits bounced with each thrust. He was on the edge.

— Uh, damn. You squeeze me so good — he growled, leaning more onto your back to get deeper. You stifled a moan, sobbing with your mouth open and eyes glassy, focused on your boyfriend, only making you want him deeper. You were close, babbling nonsense that only encouraged Leo to increase his thrusts.

— Oh, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck me.

— That's what I'm doing, babydoll.

Even in the middle of the moment, he always found a way to be funny. But when you lifted your hips higher, your pussy tightening around him, he was about to see heaven. Your release started dripping down your thighs and his shaft. With that, he painted your insides with his cum, pressing your body tightly against his, as if he wanted you to be one.

The horn signaling it was almost time for dinner sounded, and with breathless lungs, Leo found a bit of air to sigh with a tight smile against your back. Before slipping out of you, he kissed you.

You stifled a small whimper at the emptiness, and your boyfriend smiled tenderly, hugging and turning you to face him again.

— You're so damn hot — he said, kissing you and slowly covering you back with your swimsuit while gently kissing your cheeks and nose. You giggled, and he led you to your bed to sit on his lap.

— We don't have much time but — he kissed you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to hold your hips. — I adore you.

You smiled, and he kissed you again until the door burst open, making you jump.

It was Percy, his expression changing from a frown to shock and then anger.

— LEO!

— Bro, at least you came when I already had my shorts on.

A yell echoed through the entire camp, and everyone knew Percy Jackson had arrived.

— Want some honey on those pancakes? — Leo asked the son of Poseidon genuinely while holding the jar with a raised eyebrow.

— I don't want anything from you — Percy said sourly, with a twisted smile. Leo grinned, seeing what this was about.

— Maybe a nephew, then.

— YOU!

[soulofapatrick]

Kiss Me Tired - Percy Jackson x Female Reader

Summary: you can't sleep so go to find your best friend - Percy

Words: 1.9k

warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

I find myself tossing and turning, the sheets tangling around my restless limbs, as elusive sleep evades me once again. The Apollo cabin is quiet, the soft hum of night almost suffocating in its stillness. Moonbeams trickle through the window, casting gentle patterns of the wooden floors. 

Grateful for being on the bottom bunk tonight, I slide from under the covers with practiced ease. The gentle thud as my feet meet the floor barely makes a sound, but each step feels amplified in the silence of the sleeping cabin. Slipping on a pair of shoes without lacing them up, I make my way to the door, my heart pounding louder than the muted thuds of my footsteps. The door creaks slightly as I ease it open, wincing at the noise before exhaling a relieved breath as it swings shut behind me. 

Staying close to the comforting cover of shadows, I weave my way through the lingering clusters of campers, their hushed conversations mixing with the rustling of leaves in the night breeze. The children of Nemesis and Nyx, silhouetted against the faint glow of the campfire, seem engrossed in their own whispered discussions, oblivious to my presence as I navigate the edges of their gathering.

I skirt the edges of the Poseidon Cabin, a refuge I’ve often visited, and slip inside, grateful for the cover of darkness. The familiar scent of saltwater and adventure lingers in the air. The cabin is eerily quiet, echoing with the absence of Percy—the solitary presence that usually defines it. 

My steps echo softly against the wooden floor as I venture further in. The moonlight filters through the windows, causing elongated shadows that dance across the cabin’s interior. Percy’s empty bed confirms his absence, leaving the cabin strangely deserted. 

Curiosity propels me deeper into the cabin, my gaze landing on the backdoor open, leading to the pontoons. The moon’s silvery trail illuminates the pathway to the water’s edge, inviting and ethereal. The realisation settles in—Percy, the sole child of Poseidon, often seeks solace by the lake, where the water sings the tales of his father’s realm. 

The sight before me steal a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. Percy sits there, silhouetted against the shimmering reflection of the moon on the water, a portrait of quiet strength and contemplation. His unruly hair catches glimmers of moonlight, creating an otherworldly halo around him. 

As I draw nearer, the tranquility that envelopes him seems almost tangible. The lake mirrors the night sky, stars dancing on its surface, and Percy, the living embodiment of that serene beauty, captures my attention entirely. 

He turns at the faint rustle of my approach, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his pretty lips. His sea-green eyes, illuminated by the moon’s gentle glow, hold a depth that echoes the mysteries of the ocean. It’s mesmerising, the way he seems both a part of the night and a beacon within it. 

Percy’s messy black hair catches the moonlight in a way that makes it seem like constellations have woven themselves into the strands, each unruly wave a testament to the untamed spirit he embodies. His lightly tanned skin, kissed by the sun’s rays and caressed by the gentle breeze, holds a warmth that feels inviting even in the cool night air. 

As I settle next to him, a comfortable ease settles between us. Percy shifts slightly, adjusting his position, and I follow suit, instinctively resting my head on his shoulder. It feels oddly natural, as if this silent language of unspoken understanding has been written int he stars all along. The coolness of the night dissipates against the warmth of his presence. His shoulder, solid and reassuring beneath my head, carries the weigh of both the wards burdens and its beauty. 

His sea-green eyes, s deep and enigmatic, gaze out into the horizon, the mysteries of the universe reflecting in their depths. The seven expression on his face speaks volumes, as if he’s a silent guardian, watching over the secrets of the night.  The gentle breeze whispers secrets to the night, and I feels Percy’s arm, strong and comforting, wrap around my waist, pulling me a fraction closer to him. It’s a gesture of silent understanding, an unspoken invitation to share the weight of ur silent night-time musings. 

“Why can’t you sleep, Mouse?” Percy’s voice, soft and inquisitive, breaks the tranquil silence with my stupid nickname he made for me. His concern is palpable, yet I hesitate to divulge the true reason behind my sexlessness, my heart pounding against the confession I’m afraid to voice. 

I shift slightly, trying to evade the truth, the words catching in my throat as I struggle to articulate the turmoil within, “Just… thoughts, I guess. You know how it is.” 

But it’s a hollow response, a mere veil covering the truth that simmers beneath the surface. The mere thought of Percy and Annabeth together as a couple, a union so celebrated and cherished among demigods, twists a knot in my stomach, a painful reminder of my unspoken feelings for him. 

The fear of vulnerability and the ache of unrequited affection hold me captive in a silence that feels suffocating. I can’t bring myself to admit the ache his closeness evokes, the ache that surges every time I see them together, facing the world as a pair that everyone wants to see. The perfect couple. 

A grumble of protest escapes my lips, as I know he sees through my lie as he stays silent, a frustrated sound that I can’t seem to contain. I turn my face, burying it in the comforting crook of his neck, hoping to hide the turmoil that threatens to spill over. His chest rumbles with a soft laughter, a sound that’s both comforting and teasing, pulling me out of my momentary retreat. 

Before I realise it, his finger hooks gently under my chin, lifting my face to meet to gaze. The concern etched into his expression melts away any remaining resistance, coaxing me to open up even as my heart clenches with the vulnerability of it all. 

“Hey,” He murmurs softly, his sea-green eyes searching mine, an unspoken invitation tp share whatever weighs on my mind. 

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to dissipate. The urge to confess tugs at my heartstrings, a silent plea to unburden the ache that gnaws at me. But the words romain elusive, trapped behind a barrier of fear and insecurity. 

My heart hammers against my chest as his thumb traces a gentle path across my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seeps into the cracks of my guarded emotions. I meet his gaze, sea-green eyes holding mine in a silent conversation that speaks volumes. 

I feel myself drawn to him, my eyes inadvertently tracing the curve of his lips. The soft moonlight casts an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face in a way that feels almost surreal. 

As my gaze lingers on his lips, a surge of emotions—longing, fear, and a yearning for something more—swirl within me. Self-control wavers as my heart takes over, propelled by an undeniable urge to bridge the gap between us. 

Without warning, without calculation, I lean forward, closing the space between us. My lips meet his in a moment that feels both suspended in time and yet over too soon. It’s a soft, tentative touch, a leap of faith and vulnerability woven into the tender connection.

 For a heartbeat, the world stills around us, the air crackling with the unspoken truth of our shared emotions. The warmth of his lips against mine like a revelation, a stolen moment that lingers as a testament to the unspoken desires I’ve kept hidden. But, just as quickly as it happens, the weight of the moment hits me, the reality crashing down like a tidal wave. I pull away, breathless and wide-eyed, my heart thundering in my chest, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. 

“Perce… Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“ 

Before I can finish my stammered apology, the words tumbling out in a jumble of regret and confusion, Percy’s gentle touch silences my anxious ramblings. He leans in, cutting off my faltering speech with a soft yet determined press of his lips against mine. It’s a kiss that carries a subtle urgency, a reassurance woven into the tender connection that leaves me breathless and wide-eyed. 

His lips, warm and inviting, mould against mine in a way that feels both familiar and utterly new. There’s a tenderness to his touch, a silent promise of understanding and acceptance that sends a shiver down my spine. His kiss tastes like the promise of untold stories, of shared secrets whispered in the stillness of the night. 

My heart leaps in my chest, responding to his gentle yet confident touch. I reciprocate, tentatively at first, before letting myself be swept away by the overwhelming rush of emotions. My hands, initially hovering uncertainly in the space between us, find their place, one resting against his chest and the other timidly finds its way to his cheek, relishing the warmth and softness of his skin. 

His hands, strong yet tender, find their place at the small of my back, pulling me closer in an embrace that feels both reassuring and exhilarating. The closeness of our bodies, the shared warmth between us, creates a cocoon of intimacy that blurs the boundaries of friendship and something more. 

The moment lingers, suspended in a haze of shared emotions, before Percy breaks the kiss, his breath mingling with mine as he gently pulls me onto his lap. My knees rest on either side of his hips, a sudden rush of adrenaline mingling with the warmth of our closeness. Then, he guides me down, our bodies molding together in a dance of longing and unspoken desires. His hands, firm yet gentle, cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he leans in for another kiss.

This time, there's a hunger in his touch, a raw passion that ignites between us. Our lips meet again in a union fuelled by the unspoken confessions of our hearts. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, a dance of lips and tongues that express the emotions we've kept buried for so long. His fervour is matched by mine as I respond eagerly, the longing I've harboured finally finding an outlet in this shared intimacy. The taste of his kiss is electrifying, a rush of emotions that consumes every inch of my being.

My hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer in a silent plea for more. Our bodies meld together, the heat of our closeness building an unspoken intensity that blurs the lines between friendship and an uncharted territory of passion.

In the soft moonlight, our embrace becomes a symphony of desire and longing, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection we've discovered. And as we lose ourselves in this intoxicating moment, the boundaries of what we were and what we might become blur in the heat of our shared passion.

“Come on sweetheart,” Percy finally pulls away, “You can sleep here tonight.” 

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[hyuneskkami]

hi hi hi can i please get a percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite reader?? basically she’s all about the love part of Aphrodite and she’s talking about it constantly and he’s her friend and kinda realises like oh wait i’m in love w her

does that make sense?? also can i get a moodboard w it?? <33

thank you and ily!

masterlist

💌┊₊˚⊹꒷ BROOKLYN BABY .ᐟ

⤷ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader ‧₊˚ ⋅

ᝰ. 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 . . . percy jackson and the heroes of olympus

ᝰ. 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 . . . y/n constantly yaps about the idea of love to her best friend, percy, and he realises he has feelings for her. (annie’s y/n’s close friend too! i’m too nice to make her an angry b </3) also!! y/n has brown eyes solely bc brown eyes are pretty asf and not talked about enough <3 + ft. best friends to lovers, minor gods dissing (like one time), y/n reading the cruel prince (not directly mentioned), percy having an ‘uh oh, i’m in love’ moment, and a book bouquet. p.s. moodboard at the end!

ᝰ. 𝐤𝐞𝐲 . . . y/n: your name | y/l/n: your last name | n/n: nickname

ᝰ. 𝐰𝐜 . . . 1.4k

ᝰ. 𝐚/𝐧 . . . hdkwjdkw 1/8 asks complete lmao. this req was so cute!! I love reading the ‘moment of realisation’ dialogues in books, but it was especially fun to write it for the first time. it was a little weird to write only bc i’m a cabin 3 kid irl but it’s okay 😭 for the sake of a fluffy fic, I powered through, guys <3

2 years ago . . .

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“some kid killed a minotaur!” a hermes cabin demigod yelled from near the dining pavilion. glancing up from our glasses of soda, annabeth and I turned towards the voice. “he’s a new one!”

we looked at each other, wondering which god couldn’t keep it in their pants again.

suddenly, a few apollo kids ran out from the infirmary towards the arch near thalia’s tree.

“the new kid’s probably clumsy,” annabeth said.

“he killed a minotaur,” I shot back.

“hey, you can be dumb and strong at the same time.”

“uh huh. whose child do you think he is? I bet it’s one of the big three.” I said.

“no way, they have a pact, remember-”

“do you really think they actually follow that, annie?” I snickered at her.

in a while, an unconscious boy about their age was carried into the infirmary. I only caught sight of his black hair, and dishevelled and bloody look. I decided to visit him the next day to check up on his condition.

the rest of the day was spent reading in my cabin, while my sisters tried new makeup products on our brother, which was quite funny, really.

throughout the next week, I left the warmth of my bed to visit the new kid—percy jackson—in the infirmary. he had begun to regain consciousness.

“who are you?” he asked, sharply inhaling a breath.

“oh, hey,” I smiled at him. “i’m y/n y/l/n. daughter of aphrodite.”

“right. daughter of aphrodite. a goddess,” he repeated slowly.

I realised that no one had explained about camp half-blood to him yet, and took that job upon myself after calling out for will and letting him know that his patient was awake.

“so, there’s gods and goddesses. and monsters. and everything in the greek myths you were taught? they’re all real. at camp half-blood, we’re all demigods—the children of a god or goddess and a mortal.” I continued to explain to him how the demigod world worked, remembering to talk about the mist, the gods, the cabins, and everything else.

I expected him to not believe me, and call me names (like the other new campers) for lying, but he took it like a champ. he nodded at me, sitting up properly, and asked for something so his arm would stop paining. I immediately got will to help him.

the next week, when I was out by the beach, reading my romance novel about a mortal girl and a faerie prince falling in love after being enemies, I heard sand shifting around behind me.

“who-” I turned around.

“hey, y/n, right?” percy asked, walking closer.

“ah, you remember,” I said, a smile growing on my face.

“well, yeah. you’re really just the only person who has spoken to me normally… and not like I was some intimidating and scary… thing,” he said, running his hands through his already dishevelled hair.

“come, sit down.” I patted the sand beside me. he took his place there, sitting down with his legs criss-crossed.

“what are you reading?” he asked.

I explained to him the plot, setting, characters, and everything about the book I was reading for the next few hours.

we sat there till dusk, watching the sun set into pretty hues of pink, purple, and orange.

“it’s so pretty, isn’t it?” I asked.

✮⋆˙ percy’s pov

“yeah, it is.” I replied to her, eyes fixed on her side profile.

wow. she’s so beautiful.

timeskip: present

“perce!” y/n called loudly, running towards me.

“heyyyy! n/n, you’re back! how was the quest? did you get hurt or anything?” I asked, hugging her, and then moving back to scan her for injuries.

“i’m fine, perce, all good. I got will to check me out and he cleared me,” she said, grinning. her face was swiped with dirt and grime, but she still looked like she was an ethereal princess who walked out of one of her books. “what? have I got a lot of dirt on my face?”

“nah, you’re cool. ‘s pretty.” I said, and she laughed—my favourite sound in the entire world. “and anyway, you need to change out of these clothes and meet me outside your cabin. I have something for you.”

“what is it?”

“that’s a surprise-”

“I hate surprises.”

“you’ll like this one,” I winked at her, as she laughed again.

timeskip

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

I changed into casual loose sweatpants and a shirt since it was summer.

ah, summer. one of most romantic seasons ever. the breeze whipping around a girl’s hair, as a boy runs towards her with flowers. the sunlight falling onto their faces as they share a kiss. watching the sun set in pretty shades everyday with each other. that was summer.

everything about it reminded me of percy. watching sunsets, seeing the sunlight fall on his face after he gets out of the water. the flowers, now dry, that he gifted me for every special occasion.

it was hard to admit that I liked him more than I would like any friend. i’d never picked up any hints from him, that might’ve signalled that he liked me, no matter how many of my siblings told me he did.

all friends hold hands, right? and all good friends wish each other a good morning and good night everyday. what was so special? the flowers?

“hey, n/n!” percy’s voice dragged me out of my thoughts. he was dressed in loose shorts and a hawaii button up, and my gods, he looked so gorgeous.

“perce! at least tell me where we’re going now,” I groaned.

“nuh-uh. a surprise is a surprise.” he brought out a blindfold and handed it to me. I raised my eyebrow at him. “put it on. i’ll take you there.”

“I swear to gods, if this turns out to be a prank-”

“shh, it won’t. now put it on,” he promised.

I walked closer to him and put on the blindfold, and he turned me around a few times to make sure I wouldn’t figure out where we’re going. I scoffed at his childish actions.

as he was standing behind me, I felt his warmth on my back. he took my arms at my side and urged me to walk ahead.

he manoeuvred me in different directions and finally stopped after a while.

“you ready, princess?” he asked. the nickname did something to cause butterflies in my stomach.

“yeah,” I whispered.

he took off the blindfold, and it was too bright for a second. I shielded my eyes and groaned, before letting them adjust to the harsh sunlight.

I looked around and saw a huge, fluffy blanket laid down on the grass of the fields. a basket with food was set in one corner and a bouquet in the centre.

specifically, a book bouquet.

“PERCY, HOW DID YO-”

“surprise,” he grinned, as I turned around and hugged him. he’d always given me gifts when I returned from quests, but this was, by far, the best.

“how’d you know all my favourites?” I asked, looking at the 10 romance novels on the blanket.

“oh, annie helped,” he said enthusiastically. “should we sit down and start eating? you can tell me all about the people in your books, and why you like romance books especially, yeah?”

smiling, we sat down on the blankets, and ate away with no care in the world.

✮⋆˙ percy’s pov

as she talked about her books for the next few hours, I could only think about how beautiful her brown eyes were, especially when the sunlight hit them at the correct angle. how soft her lips looked as her mouth moved at a faster pace than her thoughts. how perfect her cheeks were, smiling wide. how amazing she was. how smart and beautiful she was.

when did my feelings of friendship turn into love, for her?

as she continued to speak of the love between her favourite characters, I noticed her longing for a similar love. I could give that to her, couldn’t I?

wait. what? what am I even thinking? y/n’s my best friend.

“love is everywhere, in every gesture, every glance. it’s the thread that binds us together, connecting hearts across time and space,” she said.

and at that moment, I knew I was done for.

I was hopelessly in love with my best friend.

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite — the love like in her books <3

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[beelinx]

Hi, how are you? I've a request for Percy Jackson, I just don't know if I want a headcanon or a oneshot, so I'll leave it to whatever you prefer, well, I've been thinking about something where the reader is Athena's daughter, so the reader is kind of a toy for Athena to use, and the reader has a terrible relationship with her father, like, really horrible. And she's having a bad day and all she wants is to hug Percy to know that she's loved, but maybe Percy is busy with something of his own, training or helping a friend of his and the reader doesn't want to be a bother, and she also doesn't know how to ask Percy for affection, so she just stays in Percy's company, following him around like a lost puppy, and eventually Percy realizes that something is wrong, then they hug and kiss and have lots of affection and cuteness.

Thank youuu🤍

a/n: hii tysm for the request ! 🫶 it was lovely and i hope i did it justice <3 warnings: fem!reader though it’s not stated very much. angst w/ a happy ending !! 1.4k words

the grounds of camp-half blood usually served as comfort to many half-bloods. it was a safe haven, a place away from monsters and somewhere to socialize with fellow demigods.

today, though, it felt everything but a safe haven for you.

well, you guess it was kinda nice to have time away from your father. it wasn’t uncommon by any means for demigods to have rocky relationships with their mortal parents. after all, they were mortal. it was incredibly difficult for them to truly comprehend anything their children are going through. 

or, sometimes they simply resented their child for how they came to be. because it’s not like the other parent is very present in their lives, so they’re basically a single parent.

your father, it seemed, resented you for that and everything else. all the opportunities you allegedly took away the very day your mother, athena, dropped you off at his door.

every day you spent at his home you seemed to get along worse. it was impossible to have a normal conversation without it ending up as an argument. an argument in which he simply refused to ever hear your side in, always believing himself to be so much smarter and superior. after all, that is why athena chose him.

no matter, you don’t need to give him any thought while you were at camp. here, you had a much bigger problem. a problem in the shape of your mother, the goddess of wisdom, athena.

it seemed that whenever she found an excuse, she would send you out on a quest. whether that is a really important and dangerous one, or a quest that felt as silly as buying groceries, it didn’t matter. because, truth is, you were basically a toy to her, always doing whatever she wanted.

it made you feel horrible, feeling like just a puppet in the grand game of the gods.

but you always had someone to brighten your day – your boyfriend, percy.

whenever you had one of your bad days, he always made sure to kiss you and hug you tightly, reminding you of how important you were to him and how much you mattered. he was always there, comforting you and making you laugh. percy felt like the light in the dark and twisted world of the gods.

today, your mother had given you another likely worthless task or quest for her, so all your previous feelings had once again emerged as strongly as ever.

so, naturally, today all you wanted was to be comforted by him.

however… percy seemed to be pretty occupied currently. with his training and how many campers constantly seeked his aid in training of their own, obviously wanting advice from the percy jackson — interrupting him now felt wrong. you’d feel horrible disturbing him now when he was so busy, especially since he was clearly enjoying himself.

instead, you opted for the next best thing: simply hanging around him.

percy’s company always had a way of cheering you up, even if he wasn’t fully acknowledging you. small comments like “that was fun, right?” and “did you hear what that guy said?” were around the few things he directed at you.

that’s fine, though. it was nice he was at least thinking of you.

still… you really wanted him to hug you. 

the longer you spent following around like a lost puppy, the more desperate you felt. you felt so alone, so helpless. but he was busy. and it wasn’t his duty to always be around to help and comfort you. yet it seemed that’s what you always asked of him. his company, his hugs, his warmth.

“babe,” percy’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. you snapped your head towards him and blinked away the tears pooling in your eyes. you hadn’t even noticed you were crying. “are you okay?”

“um, yeah,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “i was just…” you trailed off, not able to find the words for whatever excuse your mind started fabricating.

percy scrunched his eyebrows, worry clearly etched into his features. he turned around and bid goodbye to whatever camper he was helping train now – someone from the ares cabin, you thought you remembered when he first walked up.

immediately after the very grateful camper left, percy returned his full focus back on you. your eyes were trained to the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed now.

suddenly, you felt his strong arms wrap around you. your eyes widened for a second, slightly surprised at the random (but very needed) affection – but then you closed your eyes and hugged him back, welcoming the feeling. the warmth of his hugs was exactly what you were looking for and waiting for this whole day, and suddenly you felt those very same tears you banished less than a minute ago return to your eyes.

you sobbed on his shoulder for what felt like ages. he didn’t say anything; neither of you did. percy silently held you while you cried your heart out. only sign of movement from him was when he ran his fingers through your hair, a silent way of comfort you greatly appreciated. no campers were around to interrupt you. percy and that ares kid were the only people at the training grounds today – a fact you were incredibly grateful for now.

after what was either five minutes or a full hour, you slowly pulled away.

“i’m sorry,” you finally said. luckily, your voice didn’t break, but it was close to. “i shouldn’t have interrupted you. you were busy and i-”

“no.” he cut you off. “i’m never too busy for you.”

“but i interrupted you while you were helping some camper out,” you sniffled.

“i know,” he said, “and i don’t care.”

“percy-”

“you need to tell me when you’re feeling down, okay? i want to be here for you, and i would never ever be upset with you for telling me, even if you think you’re disturbing me,” he assured you.

you were able to squeak out a small “okay” before he tenderly grabbed the sides of your face and slowly brought your lips to his. percy’s kisses always had a way of making your heart feel like it was going to explode, no matter how many times you’ve kissed. he always put all his love in them, towards you.

you only broke away once you were lacking air; your foreheads stayed pressed against one another. your eyes remained closed, it helped you focus and calm down. once you opened them, you found percy was already staring at you. he sighed and gave you a quick peck on your lips before fully separating.

percy placed one hand on each of your shoulders, “i’ll go with you.”

“what?”

“whatever your mom wants you to do, i’ll help,” he said, looking already set on the idea. “or you could tell her you don’t want to, that you’re not a toy for her to mess with. whatever it is you want to do, i’ll be with you. ‘kay?”

you smiled softly at his words, tears already threatening to come back once again. his support made you feel stronger, and while you knew standing up to your mother was not going to be easy, you knew you’d have to do it eventually. you’re glad you wouldn’t have to do it alone, though. you’d never have to face any challenge alone, because he’ll always be there for you – even if all you need is just a quick hug.

your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him in for another hug. “thank you.”

he laughed softly, hugging you back so tightly it almost felt like you were suffocating, “let’s go get some rest first, though. you look like you need a relaxing nap.”

you raised your eyebrows. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“that i wanna cuddle?” he snickered, “or maybe that you need cuddles.”

you pulled away from the hug and rolled your eyes at him. “you,” you pointed a finger at his chest, “cannot be serious for one second, can you?”

“yes i can!”

“no, you really can’t,” you chuckled softly, “whatever, i like you just the way you are.”

it was his turn now to raise his eyebrows at you. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he said, imitating your tone for earlier.

“it means you’re a dunce.”

“hey!”

“kidding!” you laughed heartily.

he waited a bit for you to calm down from your laughing fit. then, he said, “race back to my cabin?”

you turned your gaze towards him, eyes already determined. well, it seemed he knew you well enough to know your competitive spirit loves a good race.

“you’re on, percy jackson.”

[thatonefandomjumper]

What do you mean Leo made Percy a dog whistle that has "LEO + PERCY 4EVER 🖤" engraved onto it???

What do you mean it lights up in rainbow when it's used???

[aphroditeinthesea]

“ guilty as sin ii ”

jason grace x fem!reader

part two of guilty as sin | pt. 1

a/n the vote was split, so there’s no intense smut but insinuation and make out (overly descriptive bc i didnt want it to be just smutty)

. ݁₊ ⚡︎ . ݁ ⁺₊

Death seemed like a nice concept that night. Everything that had happened seemed like too much. Either Piper was going to kill her or Jason and Piper make up and kill her together. Which was worse? She laid awake in bed that night fantasizing about throwing herself to the wolves or the ocean rocks. These were different from her regular fatal fantasies of Jason, the ones that left her feeling as though her bed sheets were ablaze and all she wanted to do was scream his name. She bit her lip as she looked around the cabin at her sleeping siblings. She was absolutely envious of the peace they all felt.

She never could’ve imagined that Jason felt the same towards her. She started wondering the options, if she did go for him, would she be bad? If she didn't, would she be mad? Or wise? Not wise. She decided she could never be wise. Someone wise wouldn't have let this go one for so long. Someone wise wouldn't be thinking about guys during everything going on. There were so many things to worry about, and instead, she was worrying about a love affair.

She felt her stomach turn and decided to stand up. She walked into the bathroom just to check her hair. It was frizzy from her pillow, so she urgently tried to brush it down, but in a panic, threw down her brush. Unfortunately for her, she did so too aggressively, causing it to slip off and into the toilet.

“Oh my gods,” she whispered, she looked up to the ceiling, “good one, Aphrodite.” She huffed, deciding to leave it there. She slowly walked out of the bathroom, to the cabin door. She took a deep breath as she left her cabin. She tried to be quick, so no one saw her.

She reached cabin one, knocking on the door. There was a shuffle of noise inside before the son of Jupiter opened the door for her. There he stood, wearing nothing but blue pajama pants that were low enough to sow the band of his boxers. She swore that her heart stopped at the sight.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice cracking, “I was just thinking about you.”

She walked in. She swallowed before breathing out questioningly, “Piper?”

He shut the door behind her. He bit his lip just next to his scar, “I broke up with her,” he led her over to his bed to sit with him, “she took it well. She told me that she could feel that I was in love with someone else, she just didn't want to believe it.”

“Did you tell her that it was because of me?”

“She knew before I even had a chance to tell her.”

“I feel awful,” she frowned as she thought of how she must have one of her best friends to feel so low.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” he responded, “I shouldn't have kissed you. I couldn't live with that guilt if I had stayed with her.”

“I shouldn't have thrown that all at you like that,” she admitted, “Annabeth was right.”

“What did Annabeth say?”

She sighed, “that I shouldn't go after you because of Piper. But you have no idea how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

“The feelings would’ve killed one of us.”

She chuckled, “what a way to die.”

He smiled, lightly resting a hand on her back. She looked up at him, cupping the smooth skin of his face with her hands, she hesitated before pressing her lips against his. His muscular arms wrapped around her to pull her onto his lap to straddle him. His hands wandered to grip onto the bottom of her.

“Jason,” she hummed as she let her hands move down to now be feeling his abdomen.

He smiled into the kiss before his tongue carved its way into her mouth. He leaned back, letting her hover him. Their kisses got sloppier as they both grew impatient. The way his lips felt was so different from her dreams and fantasies of him. His lips weren’t as soft as she imagined, they were chapped but she couldn't even pay attention to that as they were slowly pulling at her own. His calloused fingers trailed up her shirt, drawing circles on her back.

Her body tensed as she felt an electric shock course through her.

He froze, quickly pulling his hand away, “I’m sorry, my gods, are you okay?”

She nodded, “I’m fine,” she leaned back into him, “do that again.”

“What?”

“Do it again,” she mumbled against his lips.

His hand traced her stomach, he locked his eyes with hers waiting for a signal. When she nodded, he took a deep breath before gently shocking her again.

She let out a soft groan, “oh my gods.”

He worriedly looked up at her, “was that okay?”

She brushed her lips against his, “yeah, thanks.”

He smirked, “thanks?”

She laughed, bringing her hands to brush along his cheekbones, “you know what I mean.” She rolled off of him, she awkwardly scooted to now be leaning on the headboard of his bed.

He smiled at her before crawling up to be in front of her. He connected their lips once again, her body now pressed against his pillows, which cushioned her as he pinned her further into his mattress.

His lips suddenly stopped moving. He opened his eyes just to look at her and really examine every inch of her face.

“What?”

“Sorry,” he whispered, “you're just beautiful.”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks, “thank you.”

He wetly kissed her jaw, “it’s true.”

“Hm,” she grinned as she began to thread her fingers through his hair, “you're not too bad either, Grace.”

He nibbled at the skin of her neck, carefully marking her up, blowing on the skin after leaving his mark. She knew in the morning she would be playing with her concealer, trying to figure out how to cover it up, but that was a problem for future her. Right now her entire world revolved around the boy who was on top of her.

He reached her chest with his lips. His blue eyes looked up at her like a doe, “is this okay?” he asked as he held onto the edge of her shirt.

“Yes, Jason,” she replied, moving up her arms so he could easily peel it off of her. He slowly did so, making sure she was comfortable the whole time. He threw the shirt onto the floor before turning his attention back to Y/N. Her breath hitched at the cool air of the cabin, but was too distracted by the body heat radiating off of Jason to care.

He continued to softly kiss down her chest and stomach. He began to carefully pull down her pajama pants. “Y/N?”

She looked down at him, “yeah, Jase?”

“You're okay, right?”

She insistently nodded, “of course,” she desperately wanted to follow up with please, please, please touch me, but that seemed a little embarrassing, so she restrained herself.

He hesitated to speak again, “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, “so I don't really know what I’m doing.”

She giggled, “that’s okay, Jason,” she responded, “me neither.”

She felt hair tickling her jaw and arms around her. She turned to see the blond holding tightly onto her as he slept soundly. She grinned, gently brushing her fingers along his bicep.

He looked up, opening his eyes, “good morning,” he smiled. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, his hand felt down her body that was covered by one of his t-shirts, “how are you feeling?”

She moved around to now be facing him, “I’m amazing, what about you?”

“I”m good,” he kissed her lips, a feeling that she could never get enough of, “I just wanted to make sure that you're not in pain or anything.”

“I’m okay,” she held onto his jaw, “I promise.”

He nodded, “I believe you, Y/N.”

She realized then that everything she had been feeling was finally fresh out the slammer.

—

corny ending, sorry

[mathitas]

Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader

Leo Valdez loves cooking for you

It was a known fact that Leo loved cooking for the people he loved. He always made sure to accommodate everyone's likings (most of the time, poor Frank) like Piper's, and that was just his way of showing love.

Like, when you're sick, you always have a funny dork by your side feeding you soup, even when you really don't want it.

You always get cake or whatever you like for your birthday.

You and Leo's love quickly began evolving around food. He enjoyed watching you eat what he made, but this time Leo decided to do something different: he experimented and came up with something that was all his. His own recipe, and he wanted you to be the first one to taste it. (Mostly because he knew you liked everything he'd ever made you, but also because he wanted to know if YOU, specifically, loved it.)

So there he was: his leg was bouncing under the table, making an annoying ticking sound, as you looked at the plate in front of you.

It had nice colorful colors, and you could see some stuff you liked in there, but you couldn't really make up the ingredients.

You sniffed slowly, trying to understand better, and you got overwhelmed by a fresh but comforting scent coming from the food.

"Mhh, what's in there?" you asked happily.

Leo started elencating all the ingredients, even mentioning some food you didn't even recognise by the name, and he started explaining how he put them together, trying to make you understand what insane combinations he did.

You nodded, as his hands were moving all over the place, as if reacreating all the steps he went thought cooking. His eyes were shining, but his eyebrows were furrowed with worry that you might have not liked it.

You smiled softly, looking at how nervous and agitated he was, but you grabbed your fork and took a bite.

You spent quite some time pushing with your tongue the ingredients on the top of your mouth, trying to taste everything in the best way possible; when suddently you got overwhelmed by an amazing wave of taste.

Leo's hands were fidgeting with each other and his eyes were watching you attentively as you let out a pleased sound. His smirks quickly took over your worried taste.

"So? What do you think?" he asked curiously.

"So fricking good! Husband material over here!" you yelled, immediately enjoying another bite.

He laughed and sighed of relief, "I'm so good, huh?"

"The best, I dare to say." He chuckled as he moved forward to kiss you.

"Wait, you might ruin the taste!" you jokingly pushed him away, and he acted offended.

"Excuse me?!" he screamed dramatically, as you laughed and kissed him softly, trying not to smile too hard.

"You know, I'm never letting you go after this recipe." "Did you plan to before or what?"

"Of course not, I can't lose your amazing pizza."

"Ok but what about me?!"

[angels-read-fanfiction-too]

Could u pls do Leo Valdez x fem reader who is usually very nice but snapped when someone insulted Leo. Thank u if you do complete my request.

Leo Valdez x kind! reader who defends him!

This boy is SHOCKED.

He gets passed the shock quickly to be the biggest cheerleader ever.

"GET THEIR ASS Y/N!!!"

He's literally so excited and proud.

He was getting kind of embarrassed and feeling bad that you had to be around when people were being mean to him and was getting all awkward until you spoke up.

He's never felt more cared for! Plus he's totally into how assertive and angry were being lolol

This is definitely his "i want them so bad. How do i save up for a diamond ring?" moment

He gains his confidence back and starts backing you up fr

After the bullies back off, he's attached to you for the rest of the week.

He always has heart eyes for you but NOW? it's borderline cartoonish.

He clings onto your arm like a dog and brags all the time about how you're actually badass like he knew you were.

Tries to make you swear again if you did while defending him. He's not demeaning or anything, he just wants to hear it again.

Depends on how far into the relationship you two are but if you truly trust each other and it's been a while, he'll talk to you and admit that he's always wanted someone to truly have his back and to be someone's main priority.

He's such a cutie pie :3

Tries to do more trouble making stuff like pranks with you if you're up for it!

He's gonna bring this up like years into marriage in the future, that's how awesome he thinks it was.

(sorry this was late and quite short!)

[repairgirl]

4. first day of classes

affectionately yours fem!reader insert + social media & college au 

a/n: HEY YALL I"M BACK!!! Something about the air, my seasonal depression, this election reminding me of 2016 and my prime fangirl days, inspired me to write again. I might make this a part 1 and 2 and already have half of the next chapter written. Soooo happy to be back writing!! Thank you all for your patience, and as always send me an ask to be added/removed from the taglist (which has grown INSANELY since chapter 3)!!! we are SOOO fucking back love you all!!

EDIT: i manically wrote this chapter at 1 am and was sleep deprived and forgot to add a photo of text between yn and leo. if you read this chapter before i fixed it no u didn’t

masterlist < previous > next

leo taglist: @aurorase @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @persephil @purplevaldez @funnyandsmall @mmmelanie-blog1 @whoreforsophialillis @blue-violin @darlinggbrekker @shellosisbae @goldengoddess @alecanimeposts @dee-zbignuts @animes-trash @vintagebitc @nottherealslimshady @pigeonmama @coldmermaidhologram @carlele-1021 @dafantasyqueen @greypotatowithlegs @b0ok-lover @primroseluna @midnightcupiid

affectionately yours: @itsnottilly @ghostoiogy @hyuckslytherin @togethcr @mrsareads @katara720 @escapistnerd @katrin-okay @officialfictionalwreck @getbywithasmile @gothgirlslump @sunshineandshadowss @i-kinda-care @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @loveheathens @lilredpanda29 @hotthotpen @goldengoddess @alecanimeposts @dee-zbignuts @animes-trash @ww-he4ven @toffytaste @marshmallow12435 @vintagebitc @trashy-kawa @nottherealslimshady @marshmallow12435 @lunerdz @dont-get-upset @pigeonmama @coldmermaidhologram @carlele-1021 @dafantasyqueen @as-soon-as-possum @primroseluna @midnightcupiid

[artiepoison]

Your friendly reminder that just because Percy is the strongest demigod that does not make every other character weak and helpless :)

[pumpkinbxtch]

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗰𝘃𝘀! ᯓᡣ𐭩

— leo valdez x f!reader

radiostar is playing… cvs by winnetka bowling league!

warnings: none a/n: based on a song that is one of my all-time favorites. This is because our Leo won the poll!

𝐋eo's hair fluttered in the wind as he urged Festus with kicks to go faster, all because he was running late, like really freaking late. The brunette bit his lip as he saw the time on the clock at the back of his bronze dragon's head, and sensing his owner's urgency, Festus let out a huff mixed with a metallic whine.

— She's gonna kill me — he exclaimed, and the mechanical beast growled, steering in an unexpected direction. Apparently, Festus wanted to stop, which Leo thought was the worst timing. — Buddy, not now!

Ignoring him, they ended up right in front of a CVS. What would the parking lot folks think? With any luck, they’d assume Leo had just hopped out of a monster truck, as the dragon's height was the only thing that might make sense to normal mortals.

— What? Is your paw hurting, man? This isn't even for you!

But that wasn't Festus's aim. Now, the dragon felt like the only intelligent being around, though there was no way to tell Leo, no time. He nudged him towards the automatic doors, hoping the son of Hephaestus would be smart enough to figure it out like he always did with Festus’s unspoken needs.

— But... — Leo started to turn around, and the dragon growled, puffing out a bit of hot smoke that made Leo close his eyes in resignation. All he got from that was something like, "Get going, man, hurry up!" So not knowing exactly what for, he went in anyway.

And, oh, god bless CVS.

Right at the entrance was a display with last-minute items. Leo grabbed a heart-shaped box of chocolates and some flowers and the boy ended up clutching them tightly to his chest as Festus managed the speed.

— Thanks, bro – ah! Slow down a bit, I want to get there alive!

Once again, the dragon ignored him, but at least Leo wasn't even later. He hopped off half a block away and walked with the gifts still pressed to his chest. His heart raced even more when he saw you sitting under a tree, reading with headphones on, noticing how you furrowed your brow from a distance.

— Oh, holy Hephaestus — Leo muttered a few meters from you, hiding the chocolates and flowers behind his back, trying to pull off a casual smile.

It wasn’t until his Converse shoes peeked out from under your book that you looked up. He was a mess, his hair all over the place, and you could tell he had taken the fast route, with leaves and trash stuck in his curly hair.

— Hey, babe — he said with a wide smile, trying to keep it casual. You shook your head with puffed cheeks, and he slumped his shoulders, knowing you were mad. But his despair didn't last long as he remembered his ace up his sleeve (or Festus’s paw).

Your boyfriend revealed the gifts and knelt to offer them as if they were the world’s greatest treasures. He had never done something like this, and it seemed fitting since you had just talked about something similar in front of the bronze dragon with a friend of yours. Of course, Festus had been in luggage mode at the time, so no one suspected anything.

— From me, to you, my sweet angel — Leo said with a radiant smile, his cheeks starting to blush. You smiled, took off your headphones, and accepted the gifts, smelled the roses and looked at the box of chocolates. Your boyfriend thought he was in the clear when you gave him a small kiss on the lips. But then, while stroking his hair and giving him another one on the cheek, you whispered in his ear.

— Tell Festus thanks, love. I forgive him. But not you.

[soulofapatrick]

Heal Me - Percy Jackson x Female reader 

Summary: Percy flirts with you while you heal him during a game of Capture the Flag

Words: 2.5K 

Warnings: injuries 

Y/N's POV

As the sun begins its descent, painting the sky with hues of gold and pink, the infirmary of Camp Half-Blood buzzes with activity. The day's Capture the Flag match has left its mark, both on the battlefield and in the infirmary. I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling a sense of camaraderie among my fellow children of Apollo.

The infirmary is a symphony of healing, with each of us Apollo offspring moving with grace and purpose. Our hands, guided by our father's divine gift, dance over the wounds of our fellow campers, weaving spells of restoration and comfort. The scent of medicinal herbs hangs in the air, mingling with the soft murmurs of our incantations.

As I finish tending to a particularly nasty wound on a camper's arm, I turn to see Clarisse La Rue hobbling in, her usually fierce demeanour marred by signs of fatigue. Despite her grumbling, there's a sense of resilience in her eyes as she recounts the day's events.

"It seems you've been through quite the ordeal," I remark, offering her a reassuring smile as I guide her to a vacant cot.

Clarisse snorts, but there's a flicker of appreciation in her expression as I begin my assessment of her injuries. The gash on her arm speaks of fierce battles, the bruise on her thigh a testament to her determination, and the burn mark on her shoulder a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest.

"Those opposing demigods won't know what hit them," she grumbles, though her tone carries a hint of pride amidst the pain.

With practiced hands, I apply soothing salves and healing spells, easing her discomfort with each gentle touch. As the last of her wounds begins to mend, I can't help but feel a surge of admiration for her resilience in the face of adversity.

"There," I say, offering her a warm smile as I finish my work. "You'll be back on your feet in no time.”

Clarisse grunts in acknowledgment, but her eyes hold a glimmer of gratitude as she pushes herself upright, ready to face whatever challenges await her beyond the walls of the infirmary.

As I meticulously tend to Clarisse's injuries, I can't shake the relief coursing through me that I'm not out there on the battlefield today. While the thrill of Capture the Flag has always enticed me, there's a different kind of fulfilment found within the walls of the infirmary. Here, amidst the scent of herbs and the soft hum of incantations, I find solace in the quiet yet profound satisfaction of helping to mend my friends.

Across the room, my brother Will navigates the challenges of a compound fracture with his usual calm and skill. The young Hermes camper, fighting back tears of pain, finds comfort in Will's gentle touch and soothing words. Our eyes meet briefly, sharing a silent understanding of the importance of our roles here. In this sanctuary of healing, we wield our abilities to safeguard the well-being of our fellow demigods.

Just as I finish applying a healing balm to Clarisse's arm, the infirmary door creaks open once more, revealing Annabeth supporting a barely-conscious Malcolm. Without hesitation, I rush to their aid, joining Annabeth in guiding Malcolm to a vacant cot. His injuries are severe—a deep cut mars his forehead, likely inflicted by the sharp edge of an Ares child's sword, while his leg is twisted at an awkward angle.

Instinctively, I assess the extent of his injuries, my heart sinking at the sight of his pale complexion and laboured breathing. But there's no time for despair. With focused determination, I set to work, channeling the healing energies bestowed upon me by our divine parent to mend Malcolm's wounds and ease his pain.

As I work, a sense of urgency drives me forward, fuelled by the knowledge that every moment counts in our world of constant peril. Yet, amidst the chaos, there's a profound sense of purpose that anchors me—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is light to be found in the healing touch of a friend.

"Thanks," Annabeth says, her voice carrying a hint of weariness despite her determination, "They set a trap for us near the creek. I should have seen it coming.”

I offer her a sympathetic nod, understanding all too well the dangers lurking in the shadows of the forest. "It sounds like you had a close call. I'm glad you're okay.”

A silent exchange of gratitude passes between us as Annabeth squeezes my shoulder before slipping back into the fray outside. The battlefield awaits her, but here in the infirmary, we continue our quiet work of healing and care.

Turning my attention back to Malcolm, I apply a soothing poultice to his bruise and carefully tend to the cut on his forehead. Each action is imbued with a sense of urgency, a silent prayer for his swift recovery in the face of adversity.

As I finish wrapping Malcolm's injured leg, the infirmary door swings open once more, admitting Percy Jackson. His usual air of confidence is overshadowed by the weariness etched into his features, his body bearing the scars of battle. Deep claw marks mar his chest, a testament to the ferocity of his adversaries, while a vicious burn on his arm adds to the litany of injuries he carries. A pronounced limp accompanies him, signalling the presence of a serious sprain or break.

Despite the severity of his wounds, Percy's gaze remains steady as he meets mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In this moment, words are unnecessary—our shared understanding of the dangers we face is enough.

"Hey," Percy says, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips despite the bruises marring his features. "I think I might need some help.”

I arch an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile at his antics. "You do realise you can heal yourself with water, right? There's a perfectly good lake just outside.”

He shrugs, his grin turning sheepish. "Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see my favourite Apollo camper, would I?”

Percy's flirtatious banter washes over me, stirring a mix of amusement and warmth within. Despite the chaos and injuries, his easygoing nature never fails to lift my spirits. But beneath the teasing lies a subtle tension, a hint of something deeper that tugs at my heartstrings.

Suppressing a smile, I step closer to Percy, my concern for his injuries overriding the flutter of emotions stirring within me. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to be the best healer in camp," I reply, injecting a mock confidence into my tone. "Now, let's get you patched up before those wounds start attracting monsters.” 

Before I can even finish my sentence, Percy is already in motion, swiftly shedding his shirt and armour with practiced ease. As his shirt slips off his broad shoulders, revealing the intricate network of scars and the defined muscles beneath his skin, I can't help but notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere around us. 

The infirmary seems to hold its breath as Percy sits before me, his physique a testament to the trials he's faced and the battles he's won. His sea-green eyes, flecked with gold like sunlit waves, shimmer with determination and resilience, a reflection of the depths of his soul. His hair, as black as the depths of the ocean, falls in untamed waves around his face, framing his rugged features with an air of wildness and defiance. There's a hint of stubble along his jawline, a reminder of his journey from boyhood to manhood, marked by trials and triumphs.

But it's not just Percy's physical appearance that captivates those around him; it's the aura of strength and vulnerability that surrounds him, drawing others to him like moths to a flame. Despite the scars that mar his skin and the burdens he carries as the son of Poseidon, there's a warmth in his smile, a kindness in his gaze that speaks volumes about the goodness within him. 

As Percy moves with a grace that belies his injuries, the other girls in the infirmary can't help but steal glances in his direction, their eyes lingering on his chiseled features and the effortless confidence with which he carries himself. Some whisper among themselves, their voices hushed with awe and admiration, while others offer shy smiles or lingering looks of appreciation. 

But amidst the silent admiration, I remain focused on my task, to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care. As my hands work to mend his injuries, I can't help but feel a sense of connection to him, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship. 

As I continue to tend to Percy's wounds with precision and care, a sense of focus descends upon me, blocking out the whispers and stolen glances from the other girls in the infirmary. My hands move with practiced ease, guided by the healing energies of Apollo as I work to mend the gashes and bruises that mar his skin. 

Sensing the need for a better angle to properly treat the gash on his chest, I make a split-second decision and sink to my knees in front of him. The move catches Percy off guard, his sea-green eyes widening slightly in surprise before a mischievous grin spreads across his lips. 

"Well, well," he quips, his voice laced with playful amusement. "If you wanted to get between my legs, Sunshine, you only had to ask.” 

His words send a rush of heat to my cheeks, flushing them crimson as I glance up at him, momentarily lost for words. Despite the teasing tone, there's a warmth in Percy's gaze, a silent reassurance that eases the tension between us. 

Clearing my throat, I focus on the task at hand, my hands steady as I continue to tend to his wounds. Percy's thighs part slightly at my presence, a silent invitation that doesn't go unnoticed, sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, Percy’s taking the cloth from my hand and tossing it aside, the action catching me off guard. Before I can react, he hooks a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. I can't help but be drawn in by the depth of his eyes, the silent communication passing between us palpable in the charged atmosphere of the infirmary. 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a seemingly innocent gesture that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through me. I can't tear my eyes away from the subtle movement, my breath catching in my throat as Percy smirks, the tension between us thickening with each passing moment. 

In that moment, it's as if the world falls away, leaving only Percy and me in our own private bubble of desire and longing. The air crackles with anticipation, every touch and glance laden with unspoken promises and hidden desires. 

As Percy's fingers linger against my skin, tracing the line of my jaw with a feather-light touch, I feel a surge of electricity surge through me. It's a sensation unlike anything I've ever experienced, a heady mix of fear and excitement that leaves me breathless and wanting more. But before I can fully process the intensity of the moment, Percy leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from mine. The air between us pulses with raw energy, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as we stand on the precipice of something unknown. 

And then, with a soft sigh, Percy closes the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within me. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts melt away, consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. It's a kiss filled with passion and longing, igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both. In that moment, all thoughts and doubts fade into the background, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being wanted and desired. 

As the kiss deepens, Percy's hands move with purpose, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer to him. The touch of his fingers against my scalp sends shivers down my spine, the sensation both electrifying and comforting at the same time. With each caress, he draws me further into the depths of his embrace, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.  

Feeling emboldened by his touch, I let my own hands roam, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders with trembling fingers. His skin is warm beneath my touch, a stark contrast to the cool air of the infirmary, and I revel in the sensation of being so close to him.

But it's not just the physical closeness that leaves me breathless; it's the intensity of our connection, the unspoken understanding that passes between us with each fleeting touch. In Percy's arms, I feel safe and cherished, as if nothing in the world could ever harm me.

As the kiss deepens, our breath mingles in a heated exchange of desire and longing. Percy's hands trail down my back, pulling me up from my knees and onto his solid lap in one fluid motion. The movement is effortless, as if we were always meant to be this close, this intimate.

For a moment, our lips remain locked in a passionate embrace, unwilling to break the connection that binds us together. But as the need for air becomes too pressing to ignore, we reluctantly part, gasping for breath as our chests heave with the intensity of our shared desire. 

Percy's grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as if afraid I'll slip away if he lets me move even a few centimetres away. There's a hunger in his gaze, a primal need that mirrors my own, as he looks up at me with eyes darkened by desire.

In that moment, with Percy's intense gaze fixed on me, I feel a rush of heat spread through my body, igniting every nerve ending in a blaze of sensation. It's a heady mix of desire and vulnerability, as if we're teetering on the edge of something vast and unknown, ready to leap into the abyss together.

As our eyes lock in silent understanding, I realise that this is more than just a fleeting moment of passion—it's a declaration of our shared connection, a bond forged in the crucible of battle and tempered by the fires of friendship.

And as Percy pulls me closer, his lips seeking mine with a newfound urgency, I know that in this moment, we are bound together by something greater than ourselves—a love that defies the odds and transcends the boundaries of time and space.

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@papichulo120627 @guacam011y @alexxavicry @luuuciiia-mr @chan

[txtssera]

um hiii i found you in the jasico tag and you seem like you read a lot of fics, so i wanted to ask if you had any recs? and i also wanted to ask about north by aelescribe specifically if you've read it because everyone sings its praises but the mcd tag scares me and i need someone to spoil it for me 🥲 thanks and sorry for the bother 😔💜

omg hi! yes i do read a lot of fics, and it’s no bother! to answer your question about north by aelescribe the mcd tag is actually about thalia but also just for warning jasico dont actually get together by the end of it, they want to but they also need time to heal etc!

now for some fic recs! try not to let any of the tags scare you, im not usually a fan of just plain old angst so the fics i read normally end with a happy ending, tho still read tags idk if you care for fics with sexual content or potential triggering content etc! i know some of these are very popular as well but i love them and i hope i gave some you haven’t read before! and if it’ll help u find more things to read, i always go through an authors works, gifts and bookmarks. and when you run out of things to read feel free to ask me again i don’t mind !

- threads that bind by kingburu

- rewrite the stars by kingburu (a series)

- who do you love by kingburu (a series)

- over the rainbow by kingburu (canon jason and their hades son!jason au swap it’s fun don’t worry)

- olympus university by kingburu

- vampires like coconut milk by kingburu

- (Love will stay) come what may my love remains by YonemuriShiroku

- the labor of my love by YonemuriShiroku

- everything was sweet by your side by YonemuriShiroku

- in the depths of elysium by kingburu (this is a series so i recommend reading all parts!)

- joy and sorrow by codesandhearts

- love is embarrassing by eaudecosmos (also a series! the author has fun spin off stories within their universe too)

- the art of salvaging by Marine_is_Hope (also a series)

- team work makes the dream work by Rehearsal_Dweller

- flighty by altar_boy (phenomenal, one of my favs of all time but be careful with the tags!)

[thaliasthunder]

yeah sex is cool but have you ever thought about how we're gonna see nico- nico di angelo. the man himself. the son of hades. the ghost king and the heir of the underworld, make big power moves on screen like raising an army of skeletons from the earth, close ups to him twisting his skull ring, angrily yelling at percy, showing up in a carriot w hades and persephone and more

[theknightmarket]

Knight, knight, knight- a fluff idea where the reincarnated!reader picks up dark's novements or understand his way of expression just like the way the d/a is quick to catch on what damien even in tiniest actions (its how they survive in college without bieng picked on even being pressured) even though everybody else swear that tha man in question is expresionless

(typing your name three times in a row feels like summoning beetlejuice /pos but instead you dropped us with this masterful pieces)

"You know me so well."

In which Dark's exterior is easier to crack than people say. TW: comedic mentions of violence Pages: 23 - Words, 9,000

[Requests: OPEN]

When you thought about it, you were the living embodiment of Task Rabbit, and you didn’t know how to feel about that.

For the last six months, you’d been running errands for the various residents of the manor, ranging from delivering packages to reminding them where they were supposed to be. You couldn’t exactly call it ‘working’ for them, because that would have implied you were getting paid, but you supposed the reward for your service was a rent-free room on the first floor.

You had a thing about heights now.

That brought you to the other reason you were still there, though. Your life had quickly become a tangle of unanswerable questions and questionable answers, only muddied further by the growth of your relationships with the people you currently lived with. One moment, you were using your hard-earned college degree to sweep floors in a local café, and then the next, you were face to face with one man who had killed you and another who had stolen your body because – oh, yeah – reincarnation was a thing, apparently, and you used to be the district attorney in the 1920s, because, of course, why didn’t you assume that before—

Despite all the time that had passed between that revelation and now, that subject still touched a nerve.

You supposed you would get over it quicker had you not chose to interact with one of those men on a day-to-day basis. A wound never quite healed if you kept picking at it, and you voluntarily dug your fingers in every time that you made your way up the stairs from the foyer to the second-floor hallway.

You slid your hand up the banister alongside you, remembering to lift your hand when you got to the sixth step to avoid the splinter that stuck out like a threat. You made a mental note to sand that down later as you stepped onto the rug. There were a number of residents who had a flair for the dramatic, and using the banister as an express route to the first floor was not below any of them. Considering the message that you were on your way to deliver, it was an accident waiting to happen.

Shoes planting themselves outside his office, you lifted your hand to knock on Dark’s door. Any interaction that didn’t begin with that courtesy was off to a bad start automatically – read: anytime that Wilford appeared in the study – and you didn’t want to get him anymore annoyed than he was going to be. 

Or than he already was; the seconds ticked by, each one dragging you further into concern. Ordinarily, having a small delay was to be expected, but Dark was anything but ordinary, and those seconds meant a lot.

That was why, when the creaking bit away at the silent hallway, your first words were a refrain. “I can come back later if you’re busy.”

It didn’t take more than a second for Dark to respond, “No, it’s quite alright.”

For someone so cold and single-minded, he had never been able to shirk the manners that had been imparted onto him. You knew he had never been taught them directly, but some influence from the facets of his mind was inescapable. As such, he was going to let you in, and the only thing that changed was how far he glanced down the hallway before he closed the door behind you.

Once to the left, once to the right – repeated twice more.

You marched into the study swiftly, every part of you becoming painted with an inky blackness the moment you crossed the threshold. It was like there was a physical barrier between the hallway and the room, as though the door were still firmly locked shut with barely a slit at the bottom to let the air flow. Sometimes, you wondered if it were magic or just for dramatic effect.

Knowing the man behind you, it was probably both, but you weren’t about to have a conversation in the cave from The Descent, so you gripped the closest swath of fabric and tugged it to the side. Rays of sunlight poured in, finally letting you see your own hands and those of Dark as he pulled his chair out from under the desk.

They were always so gray. It was the first thing you had noticed about him when you met, just how surprisingly monochrome he was because it wasn’t just his hands, no, it was him. He was completely devoid of color, every pigment taken up by the waves of red and blue that surrounded him. Even his clothes were one spectrum of white and black, from his shoes to his suit to his glasses that he adjusted when he was situated between the arms of the chair.

“Thank you,” he muttered, making himself comfortable again, “I never noticed how dark it is in here.”

You decided to keep your grin at the irony to yourself, and, instead, you deigned to sit in the other chair that had been moved to the middle of the room. It was a plush, leather thing – more an obstacle than a piece of furniture – that someone had taken it from the library the first time Dark had called for a one-on-one meeting. It had taken up residency in the study after that, and you often found yourself using it for general relaxation whenever the rest of the manor got too loud.

But now was no time to be yearning for a nap. You had important business to tend to, even if you had to fight back a grimace at the mere texture of the manila envelope in your hands. In a last-ditch attempt to seem confident, you balanced it on the edge of the wooden surface while plastering a small grin over your lips.

“Now,” you sighed, “do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Neither would be preferable, but I’ll hear the worst first.”

A pessimist at heart was Dark, but he was smart enough to hear both sides of the story before acting. No matter how much he tried to demonstrate himself as a force not to be messed with, creeping into loose-cannon territory was below him, and there was a measurable pattern to the punishments that he doled out for each transgression. According to what you’d seen, there was a good chance he’d let the offenders off with just a warning.

With a cautious tone, you said, “We lost Hee-Hoo again.” And when the corners of his mouth tilted into a frown and his fingers wrapped against the arms of the chair, you rushed to amend, “But it wasn’t the Jims’ fault this time.”

“So somebody else let him out?”

You grimaced, knowing exactly the words that he wanted to hear and that he would indeed hear if you told him the truth. You didn’t have a lot of ways out from this problem; if you stayed silent, a single house meeting would make everyone responsible, but if you ratted the resident out, you had very few methods of saving their hide. Even before you made a decision, you had to contend with Dark’s piercing gaze he knew damn well you couldn’t refuse.

The words came rushing out of your mouth before you had a second to comprehend them. “I left the gate open last time I went to check on the squirrels. I thought I closed it behind me, but I didn’t, so Hee-Hoo managed to get out.”

Dark didn’t have to say that he didn’t believe you, and you silently berated the hold-over impulses from the district attorney. You had the speed, but you didn’t have the logic.

“Bing didn’t mean to—”

He cut you off with a stern and blunt, “Bing.”

“He didn’t mean to. And he’s trying to find him right now.”

A quirked eyebrow and a slow blink.

“Google’s with him.”

At that, Dark leaned back in his chair – the material dipped ever-so-slightly behind him – and his shoulders visibly dropped in relief. Bing, alone, wandering the city in search of a wild animal was not the most comforting image, you would admit. Having someone to guide him, and to make sure he didn’t short-circuit in a fountain, gave him understandable hope that he would come back safe.

“Good,” Dark said, removing his glasses, as though getting a headache would supersede any from the stress of the residents. “At least Google will be able to bail him out if he gets into any trouble.”

“What, you think a naked caveman running through the city center will draw attention?”

The room stayed just as silent, but his hands moved quickly to drag across his face, shielding the glint of mirth you knew had grown in his eyes, like the first star in the night sky. Of course, he was much too busy being dramatic and broody to outwardly laugh at your joke – perish the thought that he experienced emotions.

Still, you ducked your head slightly to peek under Dark’s hand. “Do you want to hear the good news?” you asked teasingly.

He nodded as he ran that same hand through the curls of his hair.

“Wilford’s late-night show got approved.”

“And that is the good news?”

“Yes, it is—” You levelled him with a certain look of expectancy, “—Would you rather he try to interview Murdock again?”

You, Dark, and everyone else in the manor remembered the last time those two were in the same room. It wasn’t a shock when they pranced off to compare favorite weaponry – you, for one, had heard the merits of knives over guns too many times to count – but it was certainly a concern when the lovesick schoolgirl joined in with them, and then, suddenly, everyone was too afraid to sleep at night. 

The only ones who actually got any sleep for the next few days were the Jims because they slept in shifts.

With that thought in mind, you said, “It’d do him good to interact with the general public for once.”

“The general public is what I’m worried for.”

The second that his hand met the surface of the desk, you reached over and laid your own over the top. He was as cold as he had been the day you met, but the pressure was more than enough to make up for it. It had Dark looking directly at you, not hiding from the comfort you were trying to provide or pushing back against it. It was just you and him together in that study.

“Hey, as long as he’s happy, right?” you muttered.

Despite not needing to, Dark took a breath in and then let it out, before he responded in kind. “As long as he’s happy.”

“And he’s talking about joining the war!”

“It’s for a good cause, isn’t it?”

With one set of fingers curled around your own mug of tea, you gently guided Damien’s into his hands, making sure it was secure before you let go. The ceramic wasn’t too hot, but it was better safe than sorry, especially when the little loveseat was vulnerable to staining. Now that you thought about it, maybe eggshell wasn’t the best color to go for when half of your nights ended with your drunken stumbling with a bottle of beer hoisted high.

Although, you supposed that the little pockmarks of soaked in alcohol served to tell the story of your college career.

You covered some of them up as you dropped onto the cushion beside Damien.

“Well, of course, but couldn’t he choose something less suicidal?”

You shrugged as you took a sip from your mug. “Then he wouldn’t be Will.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw him inaudibly tut at your suggestion, but his avoiding eye contact told you everything that you needed to know – that he knew you were right.

But there were still some things that supported his argument, mostly the emotional side that you never liked to disagree with. William had been Damien’s friend since they could conceptualize friendship, and to hear that he was going off to take blind shots against other soldiers? He was bound to be upset. The most you could do was try and get him to see the positives of the situation, however hard you had to search through the blood and gore of the last three years.

“Besides,” you started with a knock to his shoulder, “it can’t last forever, and when it does end, he’ll be back home, and you won’t have to worry about him.”

“I think I’m going to worry about him until the day I die.”

His head flopped against the channel back of the couch, and you joined him when you sensed there was going to be no more talking for the moment. It was a quant silence that enveloped the pair of you, as if a bubble had formed to protect you from the outside world, but that left you to the mercy of your internal troubles.

You didn’t know it, but, for Damien, that included you – or, rather, your safety. Whether or not William skipped off with a gun in hand, war was coming. It had come for Europe, and an ocean wouldn’t stop its slow but deliberate march forward. You wouldn’t be on the frontlines, neither of you would, but there would be damage back home, and he didn’t want you to get caught in it. He didn’t want to lose someone else to the war.

He didn’t want to lose you.

Your thigh tapped against his own.

“What’s on your mind, huh?” you asked. You had been watching him from the side, saw that he was thinking about something and that the conclusion he came to was not a happy one.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Come on, there’s something bugging you.”

Damien sighed. It was just his luck to fall for someone with the stubbornness of a mule welded to the ground.

Although he opened his mouth to explain, only the vaguest of noises came out when he turned to look at you. You were smiling. Damien was wondering if you would make it through the war, and there you were, with a lopsided grin that barely showed a tooth peeking out from the edge. What was more, you were planted firmly against the crook of the loveseat, in the process of pulling a leg up to sit more comfortably. You weren’t moving, come hell or high waters.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to worry about you if you were with him.

He grabbed your ankle and tugged you down so that you slid awkwardly against the arm. Your squawk of dismay was only met with a quiet, “Nothing.” And if you had any ideas about asking anymore questions, they were trampled by the lazy play fight you would be caught in for the next ten minutes.

Back then, everything was different – everyone was different. The man who ran off to the trenches was more William than Wilford, and most of the lucid time you spent with Damien was helping him up onto a keg or down from a hangover. The only thing that didn’t really change was the frequency with which you found yourself pouring over documents with the man in front of you. Your identities might have been molded by experience, but your pastimes were not.

And that gave you pause.

Absentmindedly, you squeezed Dark’s hand tighter, having wrapped your fingers around his palm sometime in your memories.

“Y’know, you could take a break.”

“A break?” The bleakness of his tone only made you want to push harder.

“Not a long one. Just…” you trailed off into a sigh. You didn’t remember a day that he spent outside of the manor, and you were well aware of the years between your presence – even getting into the hallway was a miracle. “You need to get out of here at some point. It’s not healthy to stay cooped up in your office for days on end.”

You leaned forward despite the look he sent you. You were well aware that he wasn’t human.

“You still take on stress like everyone else does,” you said, “and, right now, you’ve taken on too much.”

In a fraction of a second, Dark’s eyes shot away from you, and, although they returned soon enough, he was too slow for you not to notice. He was cracking, and that was just what you needed to see.

He reached for the files that you had placed down earlier as he muttered, “It won’t kill me.”

He was an inch away from getting it, too, when you pressed your spare hand down on the top, securing it firmly against the desk and receiving a huff from him for it. 

“It’ll make you miserable, though. If you keep going like this, you’ll just keep breaking down until you don’t have a choice.”

Dark worked like a machine. As efficient, constant, downright surgical as he might have been, he also required upkeep. At the start, he was a chainsaw of a man, teeth bared at every little thing, whether he would bite into the soft remnants of a garden or the debris of a wrought iron fence. However, as he started to get worn down, rust invading his muscles and atrophying his veins, he remolded himself into a clock. The hands would go around and around and around, spinning endlessly in a routine of management. Not a second early and not a second late, lest everything fall apart. But that wasn’t the problem, no, it was that the rust was never removed, and it spread just like before. At this point, where the ticking was a distant whisper and the numbers were half-scrubbed off, there was very little of him left.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what was keeping him going on like that.

“They’ll be okay.” It was an undebatable statement that had Dark looking from the office door back to you.

“What makes you think that? Weren’t you telling me about our escapee not thirty seconds ago?” Still, he let the file go and dropped back into his chair. “If no one’s here to look after them, they’ll burn down the manor or die trying.”

You knew Dark was – collectively – over one hundred years old, but the air of tire had never been so strong. It was no longer a case of wanting him to take a break, shoddy personal opinion, it was now a need. He was so clearly on the cusp of toppling over the edge that you resolved to take drastic action, which just so happened to be utilizing one of the district attorney’s old tactics.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Emotional blackmail.

There was a stab of guilt in your chest that you ushered away as he leapt to say, “Of course I do.”

You chose not to say anything else, wary of pulling at his heart strings too much. He was smart, he’d figure it out – and he did, but he was also smart enough to protest, despite the warping of the bi-colored waves around him.

“You can’t keep them in line all by yourself.”

“Hey, you said you trust me.”

“I do trust you. Them, not so much.”

The rhythm of your fingers tapped on the file produced a dozen small thumps. There was little evidence to combat that, and Dark was gradually regaining control of the red and blue lines. He didn’t have the upper hand yet, but if you waited any longer, you’d surely lose your advantage.

“What if I make them all promise to behave?”

A light scoff. “I’d applaud you,” Dark replied with an underlying amusement. “It’d be the first thing they have ever agreed on since two of them were put under the same roof.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” was your offering. While you didn’t expect it to have much of an effect, the combined weight of your promise and stubbornness appeared to give you the break in his wall that you needed.

Meanwhile, Dark was trying not to let anything give. It wasn’t that he had lied; he did trust you, that wasn’t the issue at hand. He had seen what happened when someone tried to wrangle the residents of the manor – he was the unliving consequences of that – and he would do anything possible or impossible to make sure you didn’t fall victim to that same fate. What you were suggesting was just a small break, but if he gave an inch, you would take a mile, and then he’d be sent on day, week, month-long vacations with nothing to do except watch you bow under the weight, and then he’d be in your place, begging you to take some time off, and then you’d refuse because you felt like you were saving him from the work, and then you’d bow deeper and deeper and deeper until you broke, and then—

And then what was he supposed with the shattered pieces of you?

What was he supposed to do without you?

That explanation wasn’t going to fly with you, so, instead, he simply said, “I don’t want you wasting your time on this.”

“It’s not a waste.” Your assertion came with a confidence Dark could never hope to match, and he followed your eyes as you rose to your feet, that surefire smile playing on your lips.

“Give me twenty-four hours, and I swear, I’ll have their agreements, signed and dated.”

It was your final bid. If this didn’t work, basically telling him that you were going to do this, then you would leave the issue alone. For today, at least. Maybe until dinner. Probably just an hour or two.

Oh, who were you kidding? You would wait outside his office and tackle him the moment he opened the door.

But fortunately, Dark sat up straighter in his chair and sent you a weary look that nearly had you bouncing up and down on your feet.

Before he even opened your mouth, you knew you had won.

“Do you really want to?”

“Yes.”

“And can I change your mind?”

“Nope.”

He gestured to the door with one hand and used the other to give yours one last gentle squeeze.

“Good luck, dear.”

In every other room of the manor, there were cameras. Theoretically, it was for safety. Practically, it was to fuel Google’s megalomania. The line that had been drawn was laid at the threshold of Dark’s office, and that meant it was just the two of you who were privy to the look you shared. It was something more than intimate, it was an undeniable and unbreakable confirmation of belief in one another – that you would get those signatures, and that Dark would follow through with the break.

The corners of Dark’s mouth tilted upwards ever so slightly, propping up his cheeks and returning the twinkle to his eye. You responded in kind, a slight chuckle and a playful wink, before you opened the door and ventured out with a plan of attack.

While that moment stayed contained in the office, your giddy sprint down the hallway was not as protected, but you were too hyped up on adrenaline to care about who saw you.

The energy you wore like a second skin was unexpected, but the stubbornness was no surprise to Dark. Even though you were in a new body, had lived years of a double life that you didn’t know was a double life, that was a trait that stuck to you. It wasn’t a bad thing. In some ways, it was a survival tactic because, as nice as some of the residents of the manor were, nearly all of them had a tendency to push boundaries. Sticking up for yourself and your ideas let you keep your head above water.

It wasn’t too often that it was used against him, though. Only you and Wilford were able to get that far without being thrown through the nearest window. Both of you were a soft spot, but you were one he deigned to keep hidden. You were open with everyone, and you did your best to get along with them. Wil was too erratic for people to get close to, but you?

Unless there was evidence to suggest otherwise, you helped. 

You always had.

As soon as class ended, students ran for the doors like bats out of hell, or, more accurately, like a flood because it was incredibly easy to get swept up in it and pushed to the other side of campus before you could escape the stream. Even the professor tended to duck out in the chaos of it all. It was much easier to just wait the extra few minutes before it was relatively calm again, so that left you, Damien, and a handful of other classmates milling around the room.

As you shoved out your chair from your desk, you made idle chat with your friend about upcoming assignments and visits back home for the holidays. You knew Damien wasn’t excited to return to the white-knuckled grip of his parents, so you tried to keep the positive in his mind – it didn’t have to just be networking and arguments, it could be seeing his sister and relaxing after months of college stress. He tended to lament the fact that you would be staying after you said these things, but a pat on the back and a shared cup of tea never failed to make him smile.

In that moment, you were debating a complete reconstruction of your organizer when a voice broke through the mumble of the classroom.

“Oi, Whitacre!”

You stuffed a sheet into your bag – adding another reason to reorganize to the list – as Damien whirled around to see who had spoken.

It came from one of the boys in the middle of the room. A clump had formed around a table, all of them old-money and none of them with respect for the tables they were sitting on. They still acted like teenagers, and it made you grimace when you thought about them in the legal profession or in any sense at all.

Damien had no such qualms. He called back in a less abrasive tone, “Do you need something, Jameson?”

“Wanted to know if you’re coming tonight!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at you. You shrugged and collected your papers. No matter your reputation as a live wire, you didn’t like to frequent wherever Thomas Jameson went. You were on opposite sides of the university by design, and you wanted to keep it that way.

With no option, he asked, “Where?”

“Bunker’s place, a party. His father’s out and his sister won’t tell.” Although he trailed off into a laugh, the man beside him, the aforementioned George Bunker, attempted to shove his friend off the table. He wobbled, shot him a dirty look, and then returned his attention to Damien, who, ever the Victorian gentleman, sent back a small smile.

“Thanks for the invitation, but we’ve got things to do tonight.”

“Come on, it’s only one night. There aren’t a lot of chances to let loose like this.”

In the background, you heard another conflict between Bunker and Jameson – which ended in the thud of someone falling off a chair – but you didn’t pay any mind to it. Instead, you glanced towards your own friend, whose expression told you everything you needed to know, if his body language wasn’t already screaming it. The slight twitch of his fingers on the desk, the sliver of his lip that had been pulled into his mouth to be worried by his teeth, the practically invisible raise of his shoulders. 

“I have plans with my friend already.”

“Just blow them off, Whitacre, they won’t care.”

“I think they will, Jameson,” you piped up, though you didn’t bother to connect the dots for him.

His head lolled backwards, and he spoke to the ceiling with the whining of a toddler, “I wasn’t talking to you, was I?”

Your mouth opened to snap back as soon as he started, but Damien laid a hand on your shoulder, an old grounding method from your first term, before saying, “We have exams to study for.”

“The next one’s in two weeks, you’re not going to lose your perfect grades over one bash.”

Why was he trying so hard? Was it a power play or just him being a jerk for the fun of it? It was certainly getting on your nerves, but the thing that got to you most was the sight of Damien beside you. His hand carded through his hair, and his eyes flickered to the sides of the room, to the door, to you, and back to the door like butterflies in a jar – Jameson was a kid shaking it for his own amusement.

After the fact, you realized it would have been wiser to just take Damien by the hand and leave. It would have been easier, too, because the boys would have moved on to some new sadistic entertainment by the time you saw each other again. However, it would have been less satisfying, and the absolute disgust on Jameson’s face when you stormed up to him and poked him in the chest was gold.

“If he says he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t want to go.”

His mouth curled into a sneer. “Didn’t you hear me when I said I wasn’t talking to you?”

“Didn’t you hear him when he said he doesn’t want to go?”

You didn’t know how many times you had to say it to get it through his thick skull, but you would write it on paper and stick it to his forehead if he would finally understand.

But that would have been too simple; he leaned around you to make eye contact with Damien again, saying, “Look, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to—”

“Which he doesn’t.”

“But wouldn’t it be nice to hang out with someone else for a change?”

You turned on your heel to see Damien getting closer, and now that everyone still in the classroom was looking towards this spectacle, you imagined you were supposed to feel worried. He was slipping between the desks, intently marching towards you and the group, a plan in his mind that he was going to go through with. Yes, you should have felt worried that he would choose them over you.

But he was content with what he had. He locked eyes with you instead of the boy behind you. He grabbed your hand.

“No.” His voice was so blunt that you stifled a laugh. “I’m happy with my friend.”

And just like that, Damien guided you back to your table, picked up both of your bags, and then headed for the door, barely giving you long enough to make a face at Jameson before you were out into the hallway.

In a burst of energy, you let loose all the chuckles you had stuffed down your throat. You started alone but soon you coaxed your companion into a fit. The noise danced down the corridor like a spring breeze, but you leaned your head against his shoulder to calm yourself down when you reached the more populated section.

“I love you, Damien.”

“I love you, too, dear.”

While both of you picked up on each other’s darkening, the color too vivid to be blamed on the laughter, and the tiny grins that were only ever the product of combined nerves and excitement – neither of you were able to say for certain what kind of love that was, for fear of being wrong or for fear of simply saying it aloud.

Still, you both seemed to decide that this moment, as you stumbled over each other out the building and onto the main center of the campus, was enough for now.

Having such a variety of characters living in the manor meant your days were full of entertainment and excitement and adventure and all manner of other good feelings. But, damn it, did they have to be so widespread?

You had started your search for signatures around when everyone would be waking up. Most of them weren’t cosmic deities or cthulu-esque monsters, which meant a knock at their bedroom door when the clock struck eight was the easiest way to find them – and that had indeed worked for a handful of the residents. Hell, Eric had even offered to help you out, but you waved him off in favor of letting the poor guy get some more sleep.

The problems you faced fell into two categories. Either the person you were looking for had apparently disappeared completely off the map, or they realized that the contract you had drafted was suspiciously lacking compensation. It was easy to figure out who was who.

That meant, as you practically collapsed against the backdoor with scratches and grass stains, it was almost seven o’clock at night. Illinois had been the trickiest to track down, not because you didn’t know where he was but because figuring out how caving gear worked was the world’s most boring hassle. Luckily, there weren’t many requests you were following through with, but you knew the hardest part would be dealing with Wilford’s nitpicking as you polished his guns, if you were able to hear him over the sound of Yancy’s tap-dancing for a week straight.

But it was all going to be worth it in the end. The only ones left on your list were the ones that had started this whole ordeal. Google, Bing and Hee-Hoo were on their way back to the manor, and you had finished up in time to wait for them with the most stereotypical-disappointed-parent face you could muster. They were signing that contract the moment they stepped through the door. While you didn’t think Hee-Hoo had a signature – or was able to write or even knew his own name – you were going to make him. Somehow.

You didn’t get long to think about how you were going to do that before a pair of figures were fighting their ways through the darkness. They were still caked in darkness as they got closer, until they were marching up the cobblestone path to the door.

You slid it open for them, receiving a barely noticeable nod from Google, but it was when Bing shut it behind him that you peered out into the night again.

“Where’s Hee-Hoo?” you asked, suspicions rising. If they didn’t find him, they were going to deal with a lot more than just your contract.

However, Bing just wiped his shoes off on the mat and replied, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, dude. We sent him to get cleaned up with the hose.”

Slowly, you blinked, turning back to him. “We have so many bathrooms.”

“You do not want him in the house.”

“…Okay.”

You weren’t going to argue about it. You’d had too much running about for one day that getting into a fight would surely send you over the edge. That, and you still needed them to make their promises.

You caught them as they both started in the direction of the door, producing the paper from its plastic wallet alongside a pen. You might have died, but you still valued an unfolded sheet.

“I need you two to sign this.”

With one hand, Bing took the contract from you, while he used the other to remove his sunglasses. Why he wore them at night, you didn’t know, but it only mattered to you that he slid them over his shirt before he started reading.

“’Any persons’ – that’s not right—”

“’Any persons to be present in the mansion on April twelfth,” Google said, peering over Bing’s shoulder with the most inconvenienced expression he was programmed with, “are to sign on their individual dotted lines, pledging to conduct themselves in an appropriate manner from zero hundred hours to twenty-four hundred hours.’”

“I was getting there!”

Bing’s protest went ignored as Google read on, “’Appropriate manner is defined as causing no destruction or harm of person or property, nor causing any sound above fifty-five decibels, including gunshots, shouting, or any attempt at cooking.’”

As expected, both of them looked at you like you were insane. You would admit that you went slightly overboard on the terms, but precautions had to be made. You only got one shot at this; if Dark left for a break and then came back to an empty patch of land where there should have been a building, he would never step foot outside again. It had to be exact, with no room for loopholes.

“What’s it for, anyway?” Bing asked.

“Dark needs a break, and he’s only going to take one if you all promise to stay in line, so I really, really need you to sign this.” Your explanation finished with a pleading expression. Although they were androids, they had been programmed with emotions – even if one of them only had the ability to feel annoyed with your puppy-dog eyes.

Bing didn’t seem to show much resistance, but he did take the opportunity to probe, “Why does he need a break?”

“Have you looked at him?”

This time, Google cut in. “Dark is an entity beyond human comprehension.” Obviously, only when it was time to poke some holes into your logic did he decide to speak up. “He has looked the same as he has for his entire existence.”

“No, he hasn’t,” you asserted as a headache crept up on you. “He hasn’t been out of his office in days, he doesn’t even show up to the house meetings, he doesn’t talk to anyone unless they go to him, he—”

Was wearing his glasses more often to fend off the eye strain, he only noticed how dark his office was when you opened the curtains, he hadn’t touched a book in months, he had once asked for the worst combination of Advil and Tylenol you had heard of in your life that he swore was for an experiment but you knew it was because his hand was cramping from writing so much – his neck unconsciously twisted, his lips were bitten in the corners, and his eyes weren’t just black, they were dull, like someone had sanded down his irises. 

“—he’s tired.”

A second ticked by on the clock.

“Alright then.”

Before you realized that he had said anything, Bing took the pen from your hand, clicked the top, and scribbled a vague drawing of a skateboard on the dotted line next to his name. When he finished off a wheel with a flourish, he tossed the pen back and slapped the contract onto Google’s chest.

And then he was walking out of the room, spots of mud that he had failed to get rid of trailing after him. With a peace sign thrown over his shoulder, he called out, “See ya later, dudes.”

While he rounded the corner and disappeared into the body of the manor, you were left with Google.

All you could say was a simple, “Please.”

However, you should have known by then that, if given the opportunity, Google would go back to his power-hungry programming – and hell if this wasn’t the goldest of golden opportunities.

“Who will be in charge while you are gone?”

His tone didn’t give anything anyway – not that you needed it to – but you pulled back in surprise at his suggestion.

“Oh, I’m not taking a break, this is just for Dark.”

“Do you want him to actually relax?”

“Of course.”

“Go with him.”

You opened your mouth to argue. Your entire proposition to Dark had relied on you being there to take care of the manor. Going back on that would let him go back on his promise as a whole, and that wasn’t an option. You also weren’t the one who needed some time off. You ran errands. You kept the residents from being at each other’s throats every second of every day. You did not try to protect the entire manor while tracking down who you were defending it from. You did not spend every waking moment in a cramped room with no sunlight and no socialization, working through the massive pile of lawsuits from misadventures. Dark needed a break. You didn’t.

And yet you closed your mouth because there was a simple way out of this. After all, if you could trust people on their word and integrity you would not have spent the last eleven hours chasing them through caves and sacrificing your future energy for a little inked line.

So, you held the pen out and said a blunt, “Fine.”

Before he took it, though, he stopped to look you in the eyes. Despite his deadpan expression, there was an aura of smugness that permeated the air. “And my question?”

“You can be in charge, but just for that day.” What did you care? You weren’t going to honor this promise, so he could have the plastic keys to the kingdom.

“This is satisfactory.”

You didn’t think he would notice if you were a little casual, too wrapped up in his pride and too busy signing the contract that supposedly gave him the power-trip he wanted.

He handed it back with a barely contained smirk, the lights in his eyes whirling with anticipation. You took it gladly. Just one more to go, you were almost done, so close to freedom you could taste it.

You nodded at the android, too excited for words, and leaped to the backdoor and shoved it open, ready to search for that caveman. 

In your haste, you left the door open, but that only meant you were able to yell a quick, “You’re not getting admin privileges!” before you got too far.

You didn’t hear Google’s reply, but you definitely felt his anger burning into your back.

The evening was always the most flexible in regard to the activity of the manor; some days, everyone would be too tired out to get up to any real mischief, but others would see the residents bouncing off and through the walls. There was something more about tonight, though, a certain expectation that hovered in the air like fog over a lake. It hid reality. Of course, you could assume that everything was tranquil and still from the undisturbed layer, but it was never a certainty.

Dark supposed it was because he was waiting. The manor tended to reflect his emotions the most, the people and the place equally, and he caught himself glancing towards the office’s door more than usual – and this time, it wasn’t out of apprehension of another fight breaking out or the old ceiling crashing down. It was, rather, an anticipation that gripped his unbeating heart and squeezed the few drops of blood left into his dusty veins.

A knock at the door practically crushed it into a mess. He’d fix it eventually, remold it like he always did for the next time you paid him a visit.

He moved quickly to the door and pulled it open even quicker. You were there, as he expected, with that damn grin and a prideful twinkle in your eye and that contract you had made clenched between your hands.

Silently, trying to fight back his own smile, he stepped to the side and gestured for you to enter. You followed his order, he followed you, and then he was sitting at his desk again with you standing in front of him, triumphant and gorgeous.

Even with the strange spots of dust and water that hadn’t been there the last time he had seen you.

You didn’t explain, despite his raised eyebrow, and simply slapped the paper down onto the wooden surface. Dark adjusted his glasses to peruse the signatures, skimming them but not doubting the authenticity. You had said you’d get all of the residents to sign it, and there was never a time you failed to deliver.

You watched his eyes trail down the page, saw his lips slightly tilt up at the corners when he got to the bottom, heard his scoff at the messy dirt thumbprint you had improved for the caveman. The sound was almost silent but nonetheless amused, so you didn’t worry when he put the sheet down and peeled off his glasses entirely. Instead, you beamed at him, absolutely ecstatic.

“You got them all.” It was a statement that you relished. If you were feeling confident, you might have said there was a tone of reverence.

“Yep, every single one.”

“And they really all agreed?”

Your prepared response died on your tongue. You didn’t want to mention the huge amount of favors you owed, or the hell the manor would be put through in the coming weeks, so you just said, “I got the signatures.”

Dark stared at you.

You felt sweat pool at the back of your neck and blood rush to your face.

He continued to stare at you.

But then he nodded and pushed his chair back from the desk. “Alright.”

Your feet melded to the floorboards at that one word, and, for a moment, you wondered if you had been actually remade as a robot because you felt like you were short-circuiting.

You barely managed to get out, “Alright?”

Poise radiated from Dark as he crossed one leg over the other, seeming to look straight into your soul with not so much as a care that you were so shocked.

“Alright,” he repeated, placing an elbow on the armrest, “I will take a break.”

That was easy. Well, obviously the lead-up had been torture and offering the idea in the first place was a stress-test, but this little moment? It was too straightforward. Everything about Dark had told you he would resist a little more than that, if only to set an example to the other residents, but there he was, ready and willing to go through with your plan.

Seconds ticked by on the clock.

Realizing he was waiting for you to say something, you shoved the sentence out of your mouth as if it would kill you to keep it in any longer. “Great, great, I can, uh, find a nice café locally or I can ask Wilford to take you if there’s somewhere you have in mind—”

You stopped short as soon as Dark cut you off, saying, “As long as you accompany me.”

There it was. The resistance. The search for an advantage. The addendum to the original idea that gave him more of what he wanted, that was what you expected from Dark, and it gave you comfort to know you hadn’t gotten him wrong. He was an opportunist at heart – not that it was a bad thing, you liked a good deal, too – and it was familiar for him to stay true to his nature.

Only after the thought calmed your heart rate down did you acknowledge what he had actually asked for, at which point the heat of the Earth’s core flooded back along the bridge of your nose. After all, you’d never gone out with Dark as a group, much less one-on-one, and you didn’t see any reason he would ask you specifically that didn’t have consequences of one sort or another.

As a last-ditch attempt to save face, you asked, “Google didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

“No, he did not.”

“Right, okay—” Your arms dropped uselessly to your sides, “—so why?”

How he managed to look you in the face as he spoke was beyond you. How he managed to say anything at all in such a controlled voice made you jealous. “I would feel more comfortable with you at my side.” He was blunt but not rude – hell, the tone was so gentle that you became suspicious.

“Then who’s going to, well, babysit?”

That suspicion grew tenfold for other reasons as Dark paused for a millisecond too long. It didn’t help that he averted his gaze over your shoulder before it returned with a cracked in his coolness.

Now was your turn to stare him down and his turn to crumble.

“Google did talk to me,” he admitted slowly, “and he would be willing to take on the duties for the day.”

“Did you…?” you trailed off, making a vague gesture with your hand.

“I did not give him admit privileges.” ‘No, he wasn’t stupid’ was the unspoken comment there. “If anything does go awry, he can contact me, but everyone has signed this contract, so that would be extremely likely.”

An unspoken comment that you didn’t pick up on was the general consensus that whoever disturbed them would be absent from house meetings for the foreseeable future. While Dark wasn’t a loose cannon, pre-meditated murder was just as painful as voluntary manslaughter, and it was an experience too familiar for many of them. The punishment fit the crime.

You would have likely been more jittery if you knew that thought was jumping through the minds of the residents, but you were blissfully ignorant, so you just stumbled through saying, “Great, yeah, that sounds great, I just have to figure out where to go.”

“You mentioned a café?”

An awkward chuckle forced its way out of your throat. You were starting to have doubts about everything – the carefully selected spot for relaxation was gradually degrading in your opinion. “Yeah, it’s on the outskirts of town, opens at six and closes at eleven, only one barista, serves coffee so black you might as well be eating the beans. It’s normally dead on a Thursday.”

It was adorable when you resorted to your roots, laying out the evidence and letting him be judge, jury and executioner. You somehow managed to break through the barriers he thought would have stopped him from feeling anything like this; air invigorated his discarded lungs, his stomach flipped in each direction almost methodically, and he could have sworn his skin got warmer, as though an early sun laid itself on the surface.

Dark leaned forward and placed his head on layered hands. “You know me so well.”

“It’s- I’m just doing my job.”

“This is more than your job.”

You watched, frozen where you stood, as he rose from his seat and glided over to you. Once a ghost haunting the same room for decades, he was now a man, solidifying more and more every step he took towards you. He stopped when he was a foot away.

The eye-contact returned, and the breath was knocked out of both of you.

“Thank you,” he whispered – did he whisper – softly – or was he talking normally, and you were losing yourself in the proximity?

You didn’t expect him to lean closer or take your hand in his or have the effect that he did on you with not much more than his simple being there.

However, when you caught sight of the spark in his eyes, the burst of sincerity and a slight awkwardness, you did expect the buzz in your skin where he placed a soft kiss. The electricity seemed to transfer between you, lighting up your skin enough to rival Times Square, before it dissipated through to the rest of your face. 

Between your last life and this one, you weren’t sure you had ever been treated with such gentleness. Maybe it was a shift in the power dynamic – you were human but Dark was notably different – or maybe it was just the consequences of taking such a risk, which, really, wasn’t a risk because both of you knew your reaction.

Almost silently, you breathed, “No problem.”

When he pulled back, you almost missed him, but you were comforted by a moment of understanding; Dark was watching you with that glimmer of openness. Calmness. If you wanted to, you could copy him, and, if you wanted to, you could take a bigger not-risk. Doing neither was fine, doing both was welcome.

So, you opened your mouth to say something, your hand still held securely in Dark’s, with a helpfully clear mental image of what his break would look like.

Until the mood was shattered by a crash, yell, and yet another crash from downstairs. The noise practically shook the foundations of the manor, reminding you just where you were. You were still in the depths of the woods, and the thought of getting peace was growing more and more attractive every second.

You shared a look with Dark. It was anyone’s guess as to who caused the mess, but both of you knew who was going to clean it up. 

[so, hello! Thank you so much for requesting - and, yes, I am secretly Beetlejuice - and I'm sorry this took so long (and yes, I know I say that about all of these, but, y'know) but I kept adding things and then it ended up twice as long as it was meant to be. Still, I hope you've enjoyed reading, and I wish you a good morning/night!]

[demigodsanswer]

Percabeth baby AU/Secret Relationship

Oh man!

Roman!Percy AU, and also maybe CHB is a little more like New Rome -- it's got more of a New Rome city vibe, but it's still called CHB after the Athenian faction and Spartan factions of 19th century halfbloods nearly went to war over the potential name.

Annabeth and Percy are the respective leaders of each camp, and similar to the events of HoO, they are the ones who end up swapped. But they go on the quest together and stay in close contact once relations between the two camps improve after the war.

While political relations have started to improve, the different camps still don't totally get along. And this includes the son of Neptune and Daughter of Athena.

Or at least publicly it seems like they don't get along. Secretly they've been together for five years, and in love with each other even longer. They fell in love on the quest of the seven, and really became inseparable after he fell into Tartarus together.

Problem is, this would be seen as a kind of colluding with the enemy (even though the camps aren't officially at odds anymore), so their relationship needs to remain a secret. Public rivalry helps keep it a secret (and it's fun foreplay for them). They make it work, and even manage to contrive a reason for Percy to go to the CHB affiliated school (some real actual NYC college) as an "exchange" program, so they get to actually live together through college.

They are both trying to figure out how to step down from their public roles at their camps, and how to go public with their relationship so they can finally get married when two things happen almost at the same time:

Annabeth realizes she's pregnant

Some sort of scandal erupts in New Rome, all of their power structures are shaken up, and Percy's reputation and credibility are called into question in a big way.

So not only does he need to stay in NR to resolve this, exposing their relationship could be a massive threat not just to their credibility, but also to their lives, and the relationship between the camps. ("Or maybe true love really does conquer all, and this will heal the relationship," Piper suggests.)

But of course, Annabeth can't hide that she's pregnant forever. She manages to keep it a secret past twenty weeks, but then she's just a little too big and can't train.

The fic would probably start with a line like: "There was no hiding it: Annabeth Chase was pregnant. And she wasn't telling anyone who the father was. Some people guessed she had simply created it herself with her mind. But no one had ever heard of another child of Athena doing that. And anyway, they were all (mostly) sure that wasn't how Athena did it either. So, who had fucked their Philosopher King?"

(Philosopher king is probably not her official title, probably an in-joke at CHB or a pejorative the New Romans came up with that CHB reclaimed)