#maybe one of them is a fallen demigod

[urgentkettle]

All I know is he’s trying to go west but doesn’t have any travel companions yet. Hopefully the narrative will provide.

.❤️

[elikajinnie]

The Last Breath - S.J

P: Demigod!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Death, Violence, Confessions, basically right person, not enough time.

Synopsis: On the battleground, you lie on the edge of death, knowing there’s nothing left to do but let go. But then you see Jake, the one you’ve loved for so long, fighting. With a final surge of adrenaline, you muster the strength to confess your feelings, hoping to hear him say it back. But by the time he does, it’s too late. Two people in love cannot survive when one of them is gone, and as you slip away, so does the light of the world for Jake.

a/n: this is kinda short, but angsty :) so enjoy!

now playing: i love you by billie eilish

percy jackson au!masterlist

--

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be in this battle—not today, not like this. But the gods, your so-called parents, had once again decided to throw you and the other half-bloods into the fray, using you like pawns on a celestial chessboard. It wasn’t fair, and some of you had dared to say so, but really, who could stand up to Zeus? Who would risk it, knowing the cost?

The fight had started off manageable—a few monsters, nothing you and your friends couldn’t handle. You’d thought maybe, just maybe, this would be one of the easier ones. But that hope shattered when the Minotaurs appeared, chaos erupted, and before you knew it, the battlefield had turned into a gruesome field of broken bodies and spilled blood. Friends, strangers, creatures—dead or dying everywhere you turned.

You should’ve been stronger. As the daughter of one of the more prominent Greek gods, you were supposed to rise above, to lead, to fight. But even godly lineage has its limits. You were cornered before you could react, outnumbered and outmatched. Their strikes were brutal, unrelenting, and though you fought back with everything you had, it wasn’t enough.

Now, here you are, crumpled on the ground, blood soaking through your torn armor and pooling around you. Every breath burns, every movement feels like a thousand daggers stabbing into your flesh. You can hear the shouts of your friends somewhere in the distance, but their voices are drowned out by the pounding in your ears.

You can’t die here. You won’t die here. But as the darkness creeps in, swallowing the edges of your sight, you can’t help but wonder if this time, the gods have pushed you too far.

You looked down at your wounds, at the crimson streaks running down your arms and hands. Your fingers were stained red, trembling as you struggled to make sense of the pain. It was everywhere—your chest, your legs, your ribs. Every breath you took felt like fire, every movement sent waves of agony through your body. You’d never been to Tartarus, but you swore this was what it must feel like. This was suffering, pure and unrelenting, and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

For a moment, the thought crossed your mind: you could just close your eyes. Let the pain take over. Give up and let the darkness swallow you whole. But before you could give in, something in the corner of your vision caught your attention. Him.

Sim Jake.

Son of Ares.

Even now, bruised and bloodied, barely holding himself upright, he kept fighting. He refused to back down, even when it looked like his body might give out at any second.

And he was your crush.

From the moment you arrived at Camp Half-Blood, clueless and scared, he had been there. You’d met him on your first day, wandering aimlessly, overwhelmed by the realization that you were a demigod. He had found you and, without hesitation, taken you under his wing. He’d taught you the ropes—how to hold a sword, how to defend yourself, how to survive. He showed you kindness when you needed it most, and slowly, over time, you’d fallen for him.

How could you not? There was so much to love about Jake. His soft curls that always seemed to fall perfectly into place. His warm, puppy-like eyes that somehow made you feel safe. His confidence, his humor, the way he smiled like he had the entire world in his hands. He was fierce and brave, yet gentle in a way you hadn’t expected from someone like him, someone whose father was the God of war.

Jake was... Jake.

And to you, he was everything.

But what were you to him? A friend? A sister figure? A pupil he’d taken under his wing out of pity? You didn’t know, but the idea of confessing your feelings only to be rejected kept you silent. Why would someone like him ever like someone like you? Jake deserved someone strong, someone who could stand by his side in battle without faltering. Not you, bleeding out on the ground, helpless and weak.

You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they lingered. You didn’t deserve him. That much, you were sure of. And yet, even as you tried to convince yourself to let go of the hopeless dream, you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

You loved him. So, so much. Even when you didn’t want to. Even when you tried to tell yourself it was foolish, that it would never work. But no matter how hard you fought it, your heart always betrayed you. And somehow, that hurt so much more than any of the physical pain you were feeling. The ache in your chest burned hotter than the cuts on your skin, sharper than the bruises blooming across your body.

You told yourself you’d had enough—enough fighting, enough struggling, enough everything. So, you stayed where you were, content to just watch him in your final moment.

But then you saw it.

A creature.

It was creeping toward Jake’s blind spot, its movements silent. He was too busy fighting off another monster to notice.

He didn’t see it.

He didn’t see it.

Your body moved before your mind could process what was happening. You didn’t know where the sudden rush of adrenaline came from, but it didn’t matter. Pain surged through you as you forced yourself to your feet, the wounds screaming in protest, but you ignored it. Your hand found your sword, then your shield, both slick with blood as you grabbed them from the ground.

You staggered forward, limping and breathless, but your focus never left him. The creature was getting closer. Too close. Panic clawed at your chest as you tried to move faster, your battered legs trembling beneath you. Every step felt impossible, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Jake!” you screamed, your voice hoarse but desperate enough to make him turn. His wide eyes found you, shock flashing across his face as you barreled toward him, pushing yourself past the limits of what you thought you could endure.

Before he could say a word, before he could ask what you were doing, you threw yourself against his back. The impact sent a fresh wave of agony through your body, but you bit down the cry threatening to escape. You raised your shield just as the creature lunged, its attack colliding with the metal in a sickening crash.

The force of the blow rattled your bones, nearly knocking you over, but it didn’t hit Jake. It didn’t hurt him. You held firm, your shield braced as you stood between him and the creature, refusing to let it lay a single claw on him.

For a moment, everything else faded—the chaos, the deaths, the battlefield, the blood. All that mattered was that Jake was safe.

And you wanted to make sure he stayed safe. That was all that mattered. With a shout that burned your throat, you pushed the creature back with all the strength you had left, raising your sword and slashing it across the neck. The monster let out a guttural cry before falling, its body crumpling to the ground, lifeless.

You stood there for a moment, panting, trembling, and turned to Jake. He had just bested the last of his opponents, his blade still in hand, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The relief that flooded you was overwhelming. He was okay. Jake was okay. That was all you needed to know.

But your body had reached its limit. The adrenaline that had kept you standing drained away in an instant, leaving only the crushing weight of your injuries behind. Your legs buckled beneath you, and you fell. Your sword and shield slipped from your hands, clattering to the ground with a dull metallic crash.

You barely registered the sting of the impact as your body hit the ground, too numb, too tired to care. The edges of your vision blurred, darkened, but you could still see Jake turning toward you, his eyes wide with alarm.

“No!” His voice was panicked, cutting through the haze that threatened to pull you under. You wanted to respond, to tell him you were fine—or at least lie and say you were—but the words wouldn’t come. Your body felt heavy, your limbs like lead.

You tried to lift your head, but the effort was too much. All you could do was watch as Jake dropped his weapon, and rushed toward you. You wanted to smile at him, to reassure him, but the darkness was too strong.

You felt so numb, so cold… like the warmth was slowly draining from your body. The pain that had consumed you earlier was gone now, replaced by an eerie emptiness. But then, you felt it—Jake’s arms around you, pulling you close. His warmth pressed against your chilled skin, his frantic movements jolting your mind just enough to keep the darkness at bay. His voice was desperate, trembling as he spoke, though his words were distant, muffled by the haze clouding your mind.

You blinked sluggishly, trying to focus, trying to understand, and that’s when you felt something wet against your face. It wasn’t blood—it was warm, and it fell in soft drops that rolled down your cheeks. It took you longer than it should have to realize they weren’t your tears.

Jake was crying.

Your Jake. The brave, unshakable son of Ares. The boy who faced monsters and gods without flinching, who always smiled even when the odds were stacked against him. His face was twisted in anguish, his tears falling freely as he cradled you like you were the most fragile thing in the world. His voice broke as he spoke your name over and over, his hands shaking as he tried to keep pressure on your wounds.

Why was he crying?

Your mind felt too foggy, too far gone to make sense of it. You wanted to ask him, to tell him you were fine—even if it was a lie—but your lips wouldn’t move. Instead, you stared up at him, your heavy eyelids threatening to close, wondering why he looked so heartbroken.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry. Please… please stay with me. I can’t—” His words choked off into a sob, and his grip on you tightened, as if holding you closer could somehow keep you here.

Sorry? What was he sorry for? You didn’t understand. Your chest ached, not from pain, but from the look on his face—the fear and desperation in his eyes. You’d never seen him like this before, and it hurt more than any wound ever could.

“Jake…” you finally managed to whisper, though your voice was barely audible. It took every ounce of strength you had left, and even then, it felt like the effort might break you. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his tear-streaked face hovering above yours.

“Yes! Yes,” he said quickly, his tone a mix of relief and panic. “I’m here. I’m right here. Don’t—don’t you dare close your eyes. Stay with me. Please.”

You wanted to obey, to stay awake like he begged, but the numbness was spreading, the world around you blurring again. Still, you fought to keep your gaze locked on him, his familiar face the only anchor you had left. You wanted to tell him everything—to tell him you loved him, that he was the reason you kept fighting, that he was your everything. But all that came out was a weak, trembling whisper.

“Why… are you crying?”

Jake’s face crumpled again, and a fresh wave of tears spilled from his eyes. He shook his head, brushing your hair back gently as if trying to soothe you. “Because I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice breaking with every word. “I can’t. I—” He swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he forced the words out. “Because I can’t lose you,” he choked out, his voice trembling like it was on the verge of shattering. He looked so lost, so helpless, his usual confidence stripped away.

“I can’t lose you, not you,” he rambled, his words tumbling out like a dam had broken. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you. You’re—you’re everything, and I should’ve told you that. I should’ve stayed with you during the battle, I should’ve protected you better—” His voice broke again, a sob catching in his throat. “But I wasn’t strong enough, and now… now you’re—” He cut himself off, shaking his head furiously, as though refusing to even acknowledge the possibility.

His hands trembled as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away blood and dirt like he could somehow make everything better by sheer force of will. “You can’t leave me. You can’t,” he said, his voice rising in desperation. “I can’t live without you. I don’t want to. Do you hear me? I need you. I need you.”

Tears streaked down his face, landing on your cheeks and mingling with the blood there. You stared up at him, your body too weak to move, too drained to respond. But your mind… your mind raced. His words, his confession—it didn’t feel real. Jake, your Jake, was falling apart in front of you, his heart laid bare, and you didn’t know how to process it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with guilt. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. If I had just stayed with you, if I’d just—” He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening as though trying to hold back the anger at himself. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been by your side, protecting you. That’s all I ever wanted—to keep you safe. And I failed.”

You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that it wasn’t his fault, that he’d done more for you than anyone ever had. But the words wouldn’t come, your body too weak to obey. All you could do was stare at him, wide-eyed, your heart pounding despite your exhaustion.

Jake’s gaze searched yours, his desperation deepening when he noticed your silence. “Please, say something,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Yell at me, tell me I’m an idiot, anything. Just… don’t leave me. Please..” His forehead pressed against yours again, his warm breath mixing with your shallow, ragged gasps.

The world around you felt distant, muted, but Jake… Jake was so close, his presence so overwhelming that it was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. And even through the haze, you could feel your heart breaking at the sight of him. You’d never seen him like this—never seen him so completely shattered.

You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it was okay, that you weren’t giving up. But all you could do was keep staring, stunned by his confession. The boy you thought could never love you the way you loved him was here, holding you like you were his entire world, begging you to stay, telling you he needed you.

You didn’t know how this would end, whether you’d survive the injuries tearing you apart, but in that moment, you found the strength to part your lips, even if only slightly.

“Jake…” you whispered, barely audible, but it was enough to make his head snap up, his tear-streaked face inches from yours. You saw the hope flicker in his eyes, the way he clung to the sound of your voice like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“I…” Your voice faltered, the effort too much, but you managed a small, trembling smile. You needed him to know, no matter what happened next. “You’re wrong. You… you didn’t fail me.”

“No,” Jake said sharply, his voice trembling with barely-contained emotion. “I did fail you.” His hands pressed harder against your wounds, though you both knew it wasn’t helping. He looked at you like he was trying to will you back to life with sheer determination, his tears falling faster now. “If I was just a little stronger, just a little faster… you’d be standing with me right now. Victorious. Unharmed. Unscathed.”

His voice cracked, and he shook his head, his lips pulling into a thin, anguished line. “You wouldn’t be here, bleeding out in my arms. You wouldn’t—” His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders trembling. “You wouldn’t be dying.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that none of this was his fault. But you couldn’t. Not because you agreed with him, but because you already knew the truth. He wasn’t wrong about one thing—you were dying. The warmth in your body was all but gone, replaced by a chilling numbness that crept deeper with every passing second. You could feel it now, the faint pull. You wouldn’t survive this. No godly intervention, no miracle could save you.

So what was the point in denying it? If this was the end, you knew there was something you had to do. You’d carried the weight of your feelings for too long, burying them out of fear of rejection, of heartbreak. But now… now you didn’t have to be afraid. If he rejected you, it wouldn’t matter. You’d be gone, and there’d be no heartbreak to endure.

What better time to confess than when you had nothing left to lose?

Your lips trembled as you summoned the last of your strength, your voice a mere whisper. “Jake…”

His eyes snapped back to yours, the desperation in them piercing through the haze clouding your mind. “What is it? Don’t try to talk—just hold on, okay? You’ll be fine. I’ll get you out of here, I swear.”

You wanted to smile at his stubborn hope, but your body was too weak. Instead, you forced out the words you’d never had the courage to say before. “I… I need to tell you something.”

Jake’s brow furrowed, his panic deepening. “No, you don’t. You can tell me later, okay? When you’re better—”

“Jake,” you interrupted, your tone firmer this time despite the weakness in your voice. He froze, his lips parting slightly as he stared at you. You swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down as you looked into his eyes, memorizing every detail of his face.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words leaving your lips so softly they almost got lost in the chaos around you. But Jake heard them. You saw the way his expression shifted, the way his eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “I’ve loved you for so long. And I… I’m sorry I never told you before, but I couldn’t. I was scared.”

His mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound came out. You pushed forward, desperate to get it all out. “I didn’t think you’d feel the same. But I—I needed to tell you. Just once.” A weak, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Even if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. I just… I needed you to know.”

Jake’s face crumpled again, his tears falling faster now as he shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to say that and then—” He stopped himself, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I feel the same... I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Your heart ached at his words, both with joy and sorrow. You wanted to hold onto that moment forever, but you could feel yourself slipping away, your vision blurring at the edges. “Jake…” you whispered, his name a soft breath on your lips.

“No, don’t you dare,” he said, his voice rising in panic as he shook you gently. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. You’re staying with me, do you hear me? I love you, and you’re staying with me. Please.”

But his voice was growing fainter, the world around you dimming as the darkness closed in. All you could see was him, his tear-streaked face and trembling hands, his love for you written in every broken word he spoke.

And as the last of your strength faded, you managed one final smile, your fingers brushing weakly against his hand. “I love you too,” you whispered, and then everything went still.

You wouldn’t know that Jake’s screams echoed across the battlefield, piercing through the chaos like a dagger to the heart of everyone who heard it. His cries were filled with so much anguish that even the monsters seemed to hesitate, their bloodlust momentarily stalled by the sheer force of his grief.

He clutched your lifeless body to his chest, his arms trembling as he held you as tightly as he could, as though refusing to let you slip away completely. His tears soaked into your bloodied clothes, his face buried in your hair as he sobbed. “No, no, no,” he chanted over and over, his voice cracking with every word. “Please… not you. Anyone but you.”

Jake felt like his entire world had collapsed. His heart was shattered, broken beyond repair, leaving nothing but a hollow void in its place.

“You can’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible now. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you. You promised me. You said you’d stay.” His fingers brushed against your cheek, smearing the blood there as if trying to bring color back to your pale skin. But it was futile. He knew that. Deep down, he knew.

Yet he couldn’t let go.

His body shook as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears falling like rain onto your face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking again. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve protected you.”

But no matter how many times he apologized, no matter how many tears he shed, it wouldn’t bring you back. And that thought… that reality… was unbearable.

Jake felt his breathing grow ragged, his chest tightening painfully as the weight of your absence threatened to crush him completely. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. A world where your laughter didn’t fill the air, where your smile didn’t light up his days. A world where he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you every single day.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Not without you. I can’t.” His hands shook as they clung to you, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. He didn’t care about the battle raging around him. He didn’t care about the blood still staining his hands. All he cared about was you. And you were gone.

He pressed a soft, trembling kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as his tears continued to fall. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the wind. “I always have. I always will.”

But the pain didn’t go away. It only grew, consuming him like fire, burning through his resolve and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. He didn’t know how to go on. He didn’t know if he could.

Because a world without you wasn’t a world worth living in.

Jake’s trembling hands slowly reached for the pendant around your neck—the one he’d given you months ago, after you’d bested him in a sparring match. It was simple, unassuming, but it had meant the world to him when you’d accepted it. Now, it was all he had left of you. He unclasped it with shaking fingers, clutching it tightly in his palm as if it were the only thing tethering him to what little sanity he had left.

“I’ll see you again,” he whispered, his voice so broken it was barely audible. “I promise. I’ll come to you. Just… wait for me.”

As the battle raged on, Jake didn’t care about the outcome anymore. He didn’t care about the gods or their games, or the war that had taken everything from him. All he cared about was the promise he’d just made. To you. To the only person who had ever truly mattered.

a/n: oooooooooookay! so this marks the last fic of 2024 :) wooow... what a year. Thanks for all the birthday wishes <33 Love all of youu! Now time to get drunk, ugh i need it after this year. Reblogs and commentary are welcomed <3

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[srvbryn]

Luke Castellan. Wounds

Luke Castellan X Apollo!Daughter!reader

Summary: In which Luke got small wounds and he's being stubborn as hell

"I don't need your healing magic power ugh" "yes yes you do <333"

A/n: "I can change him" "remember who the real enemy is!" I might join him instead and I'm trying aaaah 😭

Luke Castellan lay in his makeshift infirmary, his usually vibrant eyes dulled by sickness.

Annabeth, had insisted on a medical check-up, much to his stubborn resistance.

The camp's medic, not daring to face Luke, had reluctantly agreed to let (Name), the daughter of Apollo, tend to him.

"(Name)," Luke rasped, his voice a mere whisper. "I don't need your healing powers. I'm perfectly fine."

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his defiance. "Sure, Luke. That's why you're lying here looking like you went a few rounds with a cyclops."

He managed a grin. "Maybe I did. It's just a scratch."

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "You're impossible, Luke."

As she examined him, he couldn't help but notice the warmth in her hands and the calming aura that enveloped her.

It was a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere of the infirmary.

"You're lucky Annabeth forced you into this check-up," she remarked, her fingers over his forehead. "You wouldn't last another day without proper care."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me," he mumbled, though his resistance was losing its edge.

"Oh, I can see that," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "That's why you're practically glowing with health."

He rolled his eyes but didn't protest.

There was something about her presence that eased his discomfort. Maybe it was the gentle way she treated him or the fact that she was the only one he tolerated when he was at his weakest.

"You know," he began, his voice a bit less strained, "I might consider getting sick more often if you're the one taking care of me."

She chuckled, a melodic sound that filled the infirmary. "Nice try, Luke. But I think once is more than enough for everyone involved."

Their banter continued, the atmosphere lightening with each exchanged word.

As she administered a healing concoction, their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them.

"You're not so bad when you're not plotting world domination," she teased, a soft smile gracing her features.

He grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "World domination is overrated anyway. I think I'd rather have someone take care of me like you do."

She chuckled again, the flirtatious undertone not lost on either of them. "Well, don't get too comfortable. This is a one-time offer."

"Shame," he replied with a mock pout. "I was starting to enjoy being pampered by the favorite daughter of Apollo."

As the day turned into evening, (Name) continued to stay by Luke's side. The infirmary, once a place of discomfort, became a home of shared laughter and a connection that went beyond the demigod duties.

In the quiet moments, as Luke drifted into a restful sleep, (Name) couldn't help but admire the vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.

And so, in the warm glow of the infirmary's lamps, the daughter of Apollo watched over the fallen hero, silently acknowledging that sometimes, even the strongest warriors needed a healer's touch to mend both body and soul.

[coirinthyurilo]

I love and hate the thought of Will becoming the Camp's actual caretaker.

As time passes on, less healers are on board and Will takes the responsibility.

He cares for each individual camper, give them gentleness or roughness when necessary. And he knows he can't abandon his position.

People need him, camp would fall apart without him. Like.. Seriously?? This BOY. A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD FUCKING DOCTOR. Is handling atleast 75+ campers all on his own?!

An actual doctor who's probably 30 to 40 or above can't handle more than twenty. And a sixteen year old is handling more than 75 CAMPERS.

WTF RICK. (And Chiron. I'll get to that later.)

I hate how he has to care a range of children to almost adults everyday in his infirmary. Capture The Flag that takes place every two weeks must be HELL.

But I love thinking about he's genuinely become a safe place for children below fifteen atleast. Like they come to him when they feel overwhelmed at some point. Or they see him as a parental figure.

But it's just sad actually. How he has to become a parental figure, and for almost the majority of his life— (Pre-TOA.) Not one parental figure showed up for him.

Sure, Chiron! He's the oldest and the most experienced and is ALSO a HEALER. If Chiron is capable of running a camp filled with so many demigods for years. He should have known to not allow such a huge responsibility. Burden. And load on a CHILD.

Why did Will have to care every single camper on his own? Why did he have to become an unlicensed doctor at the ripe age of sixteen?

Maybe even twelve the moment he lost his siblings. Just why? It's an actual surprise he hasn't crashed out, maybe even COLLAPSE from the sheer— fucking exhaustion that slaps him in the face when the sun rises.

Imagine waking up at the crack of dawn. Never get enough time to actually rest up, and relax because everyday when you wake up you have to take care a shit ton of people at the infirmary.

It's like fucking torture.

It's actually amazing that he's so comitted to this job, because if I was him I would have left. Got the hell out of there. Never come back.

But he can't. The lives of people are on his shoulder. Responsibility that had been stacked on for years by previous healers all coming dropped on his shoulders.

Shoulders. Of a child.

Can we just appreciate that without Will camp would have FALLEN. He's the literal BACKBONE of camp. The foundation that kept them alive?? (Nico as well, which makes them such a good power couple. Because without them camp would have fallen too.)

It's so sad how much responsibility Will shoulders. At his teenage years. :(

[prinzrupprecht]

When Someone Else Tries to Impress You

It’s been forever since I did a Valhalla scenario one shot. Might turn this into a series with other characters.

Pairings: Okita Souji x fem!reader

Synposis: Valhalla was another wonder of mysteries and vastly beautiful. Everyone and everything co exists in one place. All the humans that died were summoned to Valhalla in their prime. You were died young anyway but you were reunited with your friends and of course, Souji once again. Yet, things go south when you befriend the demigod Cu Chulainn that happened to be training one day nearby.

No warnings.

WC: 1585

You loved everything about Valhalla. There were no wars and death. You and Souji were always next to each other when you both lived and promised each other to be with one another in the next life. Well, instead of being reborn, you all were summoned to Valhalla. Everyone that you had known was summoned in their prime years. Nagakura used to brag about how he died as an old man but was brought to Valhalla in his late twenties. You died not long after Souji so you never had the experience of aging like he did. It seemed that mostly everyone was still young and alive but in Valhalla.

“Oh cool, everyone is still practicing.” You chuckled as you sat down by Kondo. It was amazing to you how Kondo’s group still stuck by one another and had their own lodges set up near a forest.

There was no more fighting, at least no one to betray each other. Even Abiru, Yamanami and Heisuke were still with you all in the afterlife despite their bad choices when you guys were alive. You don’t loathe anyone… except maybe Serizawa for being a complete jack ass and he was elsewhere with his own group. At least he didn’t stick around with you guys.

Souji was happy and better, unlike his sick self. At least you can’t catch diseases and illnesses in heaven. He was able to spar with the others and see him laugh again. You could resonate with him how he wanted to see them once more before he died. He wanted to fight alongside them in the war. Most of all, he wanted to be with you and Kondo forever. It sucked how that turned out but in the end, everyone ended up together again. You had your family again… your Souji… the boy you swore your loyalty to. Valhalla was too unreal to be true.

After everyone was done with their practices and had eaten Kondo’s homemade meal, you quickly dismissed yourself and wanted to check the river nearby alongside the cliffs. You were going to ask your Souji to accompany you but he looked busy with everyone.

Maybe they won’t even notice you leaving for a bit. It didn’t cross your mind as you wandered around the forest down to where the river was. It didn’t look safe to cross from the looks of it. You heard someone counting like as if they were training nearby. You didn’t want to spy or anything. You haven’t met many new people in Valhalla either.

You slowly walked away but accidentally tripped over your feet falling backwards. Clumsy… like usual. You remember how Souji has caught you a few times when you’ve tripped or fallen from heights. He was normally there for you… suddenly guilt formed in your stomach. You wanted to return but someone was towering over you.

“Spying on me now?” A man with long silver hair gathered in a braid stared down at you. His blue combat uniform looked odd and he wore a red cape supported by a golden medallion attached to his right shoulder.

“N-No… I was just wondering around. Who the hell are you?” You sat up and moved away a bit to be cautious. You were mad that you didn’t bring your weapon with you in case he tried to attack you. You were internally scowling at yourself for being stupid.

“The name’s Cu Chulainn and you didn’t answer my first question.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“What? Spying? I already said I wasn’t! Besides I’m leaving,” you tried to get up but your foot was stuck under a fallen log. You cursed and panicked but the man was baffled how terrified you were around him.

“Here, let me.” He pulled the log up so you could move your leg freely. You jumped up and still stumbled but didn’t fall this time. Was he showing off? How was he able to lift a fallen tree like that?!

“What? I was trying to help. Besides you still haven’t given your name?” He raised one hand to his face as he observed you. Was he really acting nice towards you? You were hesitant but gave your name to him.

“I— I need to head back.” You finally stood up and the man Cu Chulainn leaned against a tree with his arms crossed.

“So soon? You barely got here,” he laughed and you heard a dog. A dog barking.

“There he is,” a fluffy white dog walked up to Cu making your left eye twitch.

“You know, my dog Geiss normally doesn’t like humans, but he seems okay around you.” Doesn’t like humans? What the f— is he then? Was he trying to impress you with that statement?

You reached your hand down to pet the dog and he was nice enough to let you touch him. “He’s soft…” you were surprised by the dog’s reaction to you petting him.

“See, Geiss likes the pretty lady, huh?” Cu cooed that last part as he patted his dog. Pretty lady? You kept telling yourself to not get flustered. You can’t be flustered. You belonged to someone already. Oh god, oh god.

Cu was trying to impress you with his dog? You mentally laughed and you overstayed in the same spot. “I should head back but I must ask why are you here?” You have been wondering this for some time. He wasn’t Japanese. You have no idea what he was? He said his dog wasn’t particularly fond with humans.

“I train in all sorts of places, this happened to be a random spot I sometimes come to.” He responded as he went to pick up something huge like a tree but not quite. His weapon?

“My mentor gave me this and told me to train every day to master its technique. Maybe I can show you someday,” you were feeling guilty all of a sudden. Cu Chulainn or whoever he was must’ve been a warrior somewhere. He was strong for sure, but you didn’t have time to play questionnaire.

You heard leaves crunching behind you. “I found you. Why did you leave—" Souji stopped mid-sentence as he saw you with someone else. Geiss started to growl making Souji step back a bit. He was contemplating on pulling his sword out of his sheath. He was confused while he stayed a few feet away from you. You seemed too relaxed around the man as well.

Were you secretly seeing someone else? Souji wouldn’t know how to handle that, but he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. Souji fell silent and didn’t know why you were here with someone else.

“Wait—! It’s not what it looks like.” You stepped in front of him.

“Who’s this?” Cu asked while he placed his weapon down. Geiss was lying next to him while you felt more guilty than ever.

“It doesn’t matter, we’re heading back.” Souji grabbed your arm to leave with him. Cu didn’t stop you from leaving. Well, he thought you were cute but that was it. It would be unfortunate, if he was your boyfriend. He seemed to dislike him but it didn't matter to Cu Chulainn anyway. He didn't even care if he sees you again.

“Hey wait! Why are you mad?” You haven’t seen Souji lose his temper but he was itching to kill the man you were with.

“Were you and him…" he didn’t want to finish while he was turned away clenching his hands tightly.

“No, I just met him and well, he talks a lot and has a cute dog.” You tried to make the situation better but Souji frowned still. Cute dog? That thing wanted to kill him.

He had calmed himself a bit and apologized. “Sorry, I almost lost my temper back there.”

“Aw, are you jealous that someone else was talking to me? Souji…” you were surprised but this wasn’t the first time. He even got mad at Hijikata and Nagakura a few times for trying to date you numerous times when you all lived.

Souji ignored what you had said. “Let’s head back. Venturing off is still dangerous without telling anyone. You were just lucky,” Souji grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. He wasn’t wrong with the lucky part. Cu Chulainn could’ve harmed you but he didn’t.

“Fine, maybe we can see him again and he can show me what his weapon does.” You felt his hand tighten when you mentioned seeing him again. You noticed the tension in the air changed. Souji glanced at you with murderous intent in his eyes. Not to kill you, but he would for sure kill him.

“I said we, you and me! He didn’t seem—"

“No, just leave it.” When you two got back to the main area where you all were staying at. Souji had let go of you but something made you nervous around him from his behaviour earlier. He gets overprotective but this time he was different. He actually looked hurt but played it off when you explained that you had just met him and nothing happened. Now he’s back to acting normal around his friends, but when you two were alone, he wanted to mark you. Everyone knew who you belonged to. Souji always says the sweetest things to you alone which made your heart beat differently. How could you leave him? You wouldn't. Ever.

Something only he can do to you as his woman and no one else.

[sausage-rolll]

My take on the promised consort.

I believe that Radahn held the stars in place when Ranni began fearing her fate. She never wanted to become a puppet to the two fingers, and Radahn knowing this attempted to hold off her destiny for as long as possible. Though he likely knew that it would be an inevitability. The only other two living empyreans were cursed afterall. 

There was no way that Miquella or Malenia would be able to take Marika’s place, the two fingers weren’t even the slightest bit interested in either of them. Malenia was already claimed by the God of Rot and Miquella was perpetually in a state of adolescence. Ranni seems to be the only one who was ever actively bothered by her fingers and I believe this is because they had an intense desire for her to be the next god, assuming Miquella and Malenia as lost causes due to their curse.

I think this is when Miquella came to Radahn with a proposition. He will be seeking godhood. Even if the two fingers had no interest in him, even if the world thought him too small and frail to ascend, he was going to find a way, no matter the consequences. He was determined to become the next God and lead the world into an era of abundance and peace. To fix the mistakes of the past.

He only had one simple request.

“Promise me, you’ll be my consort.”

If Miquella were to ascend then Ranni would be free of her duty. She’d be able to live in peace knowing that she’d never have to be controlled by another's will. She wouldn’t have to become a god, she wouldn’t have to succeed queen Marika. And to top it all off, Radahn would get to play the role of his hero Godfrey. Ushering in a new era alongside a new god.

It was perfect.

That was, until the night of the black knives. The night the world was thrown into chaos. The night that the first demigods fell. And the night that he lost his sister.

Radahn likely wouldn’t have known about Ranni’s plot and would have thought her dead alongside the other victims of the night. Ranni was gone, and with her, so too was Radahns need for Miquella’s age.

I believe Radahn, fueled by grief, rage and the mad taint of his greatrune, denounced Miquella and struck out on his own as a warrior of the shattering. He didn’t need peace, he didn’t need Miquella. All he wanted was to fight. All he wanted now was endless war.

Maybe that would be enough to dull the pain of his loss? Not only the loss of his sibling and father, but also the loss of his purpose.

-

Now picture Miquella. Making the final preparations to begin his ascension. Only there’s one problem. His consort has abandoned him at the very last moment. As it turns out, it seems Radahn never really cared for Miquella or his visions for a new age, he was only really in it for his own gain. 

Imagine how devastated Miquella would be. Knowing that yet another one of his plans had fallen apart at the finish line. That the person he trusted to rule alongside him didn’t even hesitate to abandon him when it was no longer convenient for him.

His ascension to godhood would never happen. He would never be able to heal his sister. He would never be able to bring forth an age of compassion. He would never be able to right the wrongs of the past.

He had failed again.

Now imagine how furious this would make his people. How angry his followers and his sister would be to see Miquella rejected at such a pivotal moment. To see him mourning a consortship and an age that would never come to pass.

Is there really any wonder that they chose to march towards Caelid and deliver the promised consort by force?

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO MISCELLANEOUS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 💤 MORPHEUS: GOD OF DREAMS 💤

A/N: I see you Morpheus demigods out there, this is for you. Also because in the books, there was a reference that there are demigods of Morpheus, but we don't really see any but they exist sort of? So, we all know the drill! Thanks for reading and have a nice day!! MISCELLANEOUS DEMIGOD H/CS MASTERLIST LINK: [TUMBLR] || [AO3]

When you get claimed, you have a very similar experience to the children of Hypnos; where it involves sleep. However, instead of falling asleep as soon as you get a claim like a Hynos demigod, you have a dream where Morpheus used his realm to meet you and basically say, “You are my child” while everyone is forcibly evicted from their sleep and dreams to see the claim hanging above your dead-asleep body.

You were still dead-asleep in the dream realm and after Morpheus left, cause this was a major gray zone he was doing, a chosen child of Hypnos would appear in your dream and give you the down-low, while the rest of them had to trudge up the Hermes cabin where you were in, and basically carry you to the Morpheus cabin. Why you may ask? Well Morpheus’ claim was dreams and touching your vicinity would make anyone else fall asleep and have either a russian roulette of forced dreams; whether they were good or bad dreams, no one knew but anyone who had fallen under the spell would not wake up easily. The only exceptions to this case were the children of Hypnos and a few children of Hecate. 

So your first morning as a child of Morpheus would be greeted by the children of Hypnos looking down on you as you stared up at their eyes and a new roof of the Morpheus cabin. What a way to wake up.

Being a child of Morpheus obviously deals with dreams and sleep, but your powers are more in the former than latter… and no, it’s not Morbin time. Yes you have the power to make someone fall asleep but you can’t hypnotise someone like a child of Hypnos.

 At the minimum, you can give someone a nice daydream or daymare (day-nightmare) and making someone fall asleep and manipulate their dreams. To the max, if you’re a powerful Morpheus demigod, you know and can see people’s dreams, peering into their psyche as if to even bring it into the reality. You can also bring their nightmare to life and truly make it a living nightmare.

With Morpheus being also referred to as the Sand-man, you also inherited this aspect. You can manipulate sand or dream-sand to be exact, and you can use that as your advantage. Think of Sandy from the movie “Rise of the Guardians”.

While the children of Hypnos have this duty as well, they’re basically chronically asleep so you’re the next person to go for deciphering dreams. You make good business in helping people decipher their dreams, to see what the future is talking about and the occasional love drama you get from the children of Aphrodite. On a serious note, the children of Morpheus act as consultations on dreams; especially if they are Prophetic dreams. While prophecies are not your realm, you learn a thing or two from the children of Apollo and Hecate (maybe sometimes even from the gods themselves), deciphering dreams based on symbols, places, and etc.

On the flipside, Morpheus is also considered the messenger of the gods who appeared in the dream of kings in human guise, so you’re also relegated as messengers of the messengers of the gods.  Depending on how you feel, it is either awkward, terrible, fun, or an honour in delivering messages to certain recipients that you get from your dreams. How you feel depends on the context of the message and who you have to deliver it to. You did not enjoy delivering a message to Clarisse la Rue from her godly half-brothers Phobos and Deimos, nor did not absolutely enjoy almost feeling the wrath of her spear and rage. This is why people keep saying, “don’t shoot the messenger”

You’re also chronically tired ™ like your Hypnos cousins, but just 40% of the time. Instead of falling asleep like your cousins, people often find you daydreaming and being in your own little world

Your godly father’s reputation precedes you in more ways, with him being responsible putting all of Manhattan to sleep during the Titan War, and in the Roman’s eyes, they stiffen around you and act very tense on the job, as Morpheus’ Roman side, Somnia, alongside his father Hypnos, Somnus (r.), killed those who weren’t alert at their jobs.

Despite being the child of Morpheus, the god of Dreams, there’s a good chance that you don’t have many dreams yourself. It could be because you are perfectly able to lucid dream or are like the children of Hypnos who enter people’s dreams and float through the astral realms, or your dreams are hijacked being a messenger of the gods, dealing and talking to gods, or having to oversee people’s dreams; no matter how you feel on it. You’re also busy taking people’s bad dreams away and making them good dreams (or vise-versa), taking that energy to yourself as a sort of substance. However, just like the children of Hypnos, don’t spend your time too much in the other realm or you won’t find yourself coming back to the land of the living.

You felt like you were having a headache but you weren’t really sure if you could have a headache when you were technically passed out and asleep and be lucid dreaming all at the same time. 

Especially when you’re face to face with the man you’ve seen in your dream occasionally, only to be revealed that this entire time he was Morpheus, your godly father who revealed to you just now. 

“Wait, so all this time I thought you were some boogey man that’s been haunting my dreams for years, was you? Morpheus? The god of dreams who is also my father?” you asked, trying to wrap your mind around it. 

“Boogey man, sandman, however the mortals like to call me, they’re all me” said Morpheus as he leaned against his seat. 

“Wait, should you be even talking to me? All the other demigods say that the gods don’t really talk to their own children cause of some law?” you said, panicking. The setting of your dream world shook in response to your emotions. The dreamland you were in was created by Morpheus was modelled after a place you felt more comfortable to you; as he said, it allowed him to see more about you. 

Morpheus waved his hand flippantly, switching and stabilising the dreamland to something else that you were familiar with. 

“Bah, as if they don’t do the same here in the world of the wake and the world of dreams,” said Morpheus with slight distaste, “Besides, the dream world is a different reality that is made and managed between me and my father, Hypnos. I would like them to see them have any thoughts and be barred from seeing their own children in their dreams.” 

“Do gods dream?” you blurted out. 

Morpheus gave you a look that started to make the world around you distort. Your ears were ringing while also sounding like it was being put into a vacuum chamber and it kept building and building until-

Everything was back to normal. 

“Of course we dream” Morpheus stated before he cocked his head to the side. “Now my time has come and by now everyone in that camp knows who you are.”

“Wait what-” 

Morpheus waved his hand and the world distorted for a moment before another kid like you came stumbling in, as Morpheus scoffed. “One of my mortal half-siblings will fill you in the rest. Have a good time and learn well from Chiron, [first name]. Until we meet again.” 

Before you could even process what he said, Morpheus disappeared as he came all of a sudden. 

“I’ll never get used to him doing that” said the mysterious kid. 

“Wait, who are you? What did he mean that everyone in camp knows?” you stammered out.

“Hi, I’m Clovis, son of and cabin leader of the Hypnos cabin” he introduced as he yawned. “That’s why Morpheus referred to me, and the rest of my siblings as mortal half-siblings.” 

“Okay…can we get back to what did Morpheus said that everyone in camp knows? What do they know?”

“Oh, right” said Clovis as he seemed more awake. “Well…apparently, while you were talking with Morpheus, he basically ejected everyone in camp from their sleep to see you being claimed…while you’re still sleeping in the real world.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…even us the children of Hypnos were ejected out too. I’m here to explain everything to you while the rest of us are currently carrying your actual body to your cabin.” 

“Wait, why are you carrying my body?” you asked, your mind reeling from everything.

Clovis waved his hand and showed you what was basically you being carried by a bunch of kids who all shared the baby face appearance. There were also some holding people back and some further ahead to clear a path while you were still dead-asleep like a pile of rocks. All in the dead of the night. The rest of the campers were either looking very sleepy and dead on their feet, or were lighting the path in front of you. 

You felt your face burning as Clovis patted your shoulder. “Yeah…basically Morpheus’ claim is so strong that anyone who is close to you or tries to wake you up puts them to sleep…and while that may not be a problem right now, since it’s night, everyone who touches you gets thrown into a nightmare. So it falls onto us, the children of Hypnos and the few children of Morpheus, to carry you to the Morpheus cabin.”

You had your face in your hands to try and hide but because this was a dream, you could see yourself putting your face in your hands and still witness the scene in front of you. Clovis finally releasing you from your embarrassment waved his hands away to clear the image before he spoke to you. 

“Well…you’re the first child of Morpheus that we’ve had in a while, and the last one isn’t used to this procedure yet so it falls onto me to give you the rundown of everything. Welcome to the Morpheus cabin Cousin” introduced Clovis as you groaned. This dream was actually a nightmare in disguise.

[seraphivonne7]

Base Ideas For The Fallen Skies!SFOTH and Demigods

Listing who I need to yap about help me.

▷ Firebrand

▷ Windforce

▷ Venomshank

▷ Ghostwalker

▷ Icedagger

▷ Darkheart

▷ Illumina

---

▷ Ban Hammer

▷ Sword

▷ Valk

▷ Dom

Okay! Time to randomly yap and pretend I know what I’m talking about. Since this is me typing my thoughts out, everything I say in this is subject to change. Think of this rant as base ideas for the Fallen Skies!SFOTH and Demigods.

(Also, some parts of this will be canon information. Other parts of this will be HC’d information.)

Explodes. (obligatory exploding every post) Ahem.

So I’ve been thinking about fleshing out the SFOTH.

Obviously, all the SFOTH are base melee characters. They’re all sword wielders and cannot be separated into the three classes of melee, ranged or support. HOWEVER, their movesets will be completely unique to them (ex. Icedagger throwing icy projectiles as an ability).

Another factor! Titles are a fraction of their role (King Firebrand, for example). How I mostly weigh their worth as a SFOTH, like: what have they contributed to Inpherno, what great tales have they been a part of? Are they a god revered in joy, or a god feared?

Having thought about all of this for the past few days, I think I have a basic understanding of their general making!

Firebrand

▷ King of the SFOTH, God of Demons and Hellfire, The Benevolent King.

▷ Abilities are solely lava/fire-based. He can also manipulate the landscape around him, raise mountains and rip ravines into the world.

▷ His great sword is forged out of blackstone, lava and fire gemstones, decorated with the bones of an ancient creature. No one else can wield it because it’s too hot.

▷ He’s a grandfather and a sweetheart. Diplomacy over violence.

Windforce

▷ Goddess of the Wind, Sea and War, Queen of Chaos.

▷ Core abilities are wind-based. On a broader spectrum, she can manipulate the weather and oceans.

▷ Her double-bladed spear is forged out of wind, oceanic stone, sun gold, and lightning. It’s actually really heavy despite looking balanced ‘n light, and it can’t be lifted by anyone else (it can’t even be lifted by Ban Hammer or Firebrand).

▷ She got the title Queen of Chaos for a reason. She’s a tough-loving mother and a free spirit.

Venomshank

▷ God of Wisdom, Bringer of the Plague.

▷ Abilities are acid/poison-based. He can also reanimate dead bodies at will.

▷ His rapier is simply made out of bronze, ancient oak and green diamond. Simple and light! He’s also able to duplicate it and dual-wield two rapiers.

▷ He’s an eloquent tactician. He speaks only when necessary.

Ghostwalker

▷ God of the Afterlife, The Reaper, Soul Taker.

▷ His abilities are gravity-based, actually. And, of course, he can see one’s soul and take it.

▷ His weapon is generally a great sword most of the time. It’s forged out of lightsteel, blackstone, and most importantly, genesis essence. The genesis essence is what allows his weapon to shift into different forms, like a chained whip or throwing daggers.

▷ He’s silent. He watches from the sidelines and defers to doing his job as a cold-hearted god.

Icedagger

▷ God of Ice and Snow.

▷ Abilities are snow/ice-based, obviously! He can crystalize structures, throw icy projectiles around, even manipulate snowy weather. Other things maybe.

▷ His weapon is a balanced dagger forged out of frost opals, blue ice and sapphires---very pretty and delicate!

▷ He’s shy and cautious. He’s a bit insecure as the youngest, having no faith in his powers. However… Icedagger is actually extremely powerful.

Darkheart

▷ God of Tricks and Misfortune, Bringer of Death, Entity of Malevolence.

▷ Abilities are shadow-based. He definitely shadow walks and shadow weaves terrible monsters. Also, his curses!

▷ His great sword is forged out of blackstone, shadows, and poisoned gemstones. It’s decorated with the cursed bones of those who crossed him. Also, he can replicate and dual-wield like Venomshank!

▷ What can I say? He’s a silly little god who loves committing war crimes :).

Illumina

▷ God of Judgement.

▷ Abilities are light-based. And of course he can manipulate people in many different ways.

▷ His great sword is forged out of light, lightsteel, and amethyst. He’s able to replicate and dual-wield as well.

▷ He’s one manipulative god.

YAY. The SFOTHs now have somewhat base images. I can now die happy.

…

(Slowly turns around and sees the demigods. Proceeds to explode again.)

Time to apply my thoughts to them as well.

Ban Hammer

▷ Demigod of Strength, Warden of Banlands.

▷ His abilities are literally just brute strength. He can also summon lightning for attacks if he really needs it. Thank you to that one HC who brought this to light.

▷ His hammer is forged out of deep amethyst, blackstone and blacksteel. It can only be lifted by Firebrand and Windforce!

▷ He’s Ban Hammer. :] A chill dude until angered.

Sword

▷ Demigod of Justice, Defender of Inpherno.

▷ His abilities are light-based, uhm. Also strength-based…! He also has adapted himself into doing aerial attacks.

▷ His sword is forged out of light, lightsteel and audurite. It’s incredibly heavy and weighted specifically for Sword.

▷ Fallen Skies!Sword is quiet. He’s a serious fellow that’s never known anything else but training and duties.

Valk

▷ Demigod of Melody.

▷ His abilities are sun/solar-based! And since he’s not a SFOTH, he’s actually a support, using his voice to boost others’ abilities up to six times their strength.

▷ His microphone is purely made of sunlight. Only he can hold it.

▷ He’s very curious and outgoing. The life of the party with big dreams!

Dom

▷ Demigod of Harmony.

▷ His abilities are opposite to Valk’s: moon/moonlight-based. He’s also a support who can use his voice to physically attack others, plus he can throw up massive force fields!

▷ His megaphone is purely made of moonlight. Only he can hold it.

▷ He’s the quiet one who has dry, sassy humour. He’s also very wise and observant of everything around him.

THERE. Now I’m done! Base ideas are sometimes a pain. Help.

I actually wanted to create ancient stories regarding the SFOTH. Partly why I needed to make these ideas so I know what role they would play in these stories. I also needed a full scope of how powerful each one is so I can properly write them for Fallen Skies AU. AND ALSO, THE SCENARIOS?

▷ Icedagger freezing over an entire domain like WHAT.

▷ Can I get Darkheart casting eternal darkness over all of Inpherno.

ETCETC.

Time to go eat dinner goodbye. :>

[t1oui]

so something i've been thinking about a lot lately is how things might go if mortals found out about demigods and absolutely flipped their shit.

like, i'm talking full-on dystopia. everybody being forced to get dna tests to see if they're demigods (since gods don't have dna, anybody who appears to only have one set of genes is a demigod. or a lizard.). demigods being forced to wear armbands so everybody knows who - no, what - they are. hell, how about we go even further and color-code the bracelets so everybody can see who's a big three kid and who isn't. they're more powerful, so surely people will want to avoid them, right?

pictures of demigods are plastered on billboards and all over social media. people are told to approach them with caution or, in the case of a blue-banded big three kid, avoid them completely. in school, demigods are forced to sit apart from their peers, or they're kicked out all together - maybe annabeth's school won't let her live there anymore and she starts going to ahs with percy.

there are protests from both sides - people who want demigods completely removed from society, and people like sally who are just trying to remind everyone that these things, these creatures they're so afraid of? they're kids. they're children who were dealt a bad hand in life. they don't deserve this.

of course the gods are unhappy, but not because their kids are being targeted - no, most of them are mad because their soldiers are being taken away. who's supposed to defend them now?

in the midst of it all, demigods are getting more bold. not out where everyone can see them, mind you, but one morning, nyc residents wake up to find a shrine to fallen demigods plastered on the side of the empire state building alongside the words "fight your own wars". within the safety of camp half-blood and new rome, demigods and legacies begin posting on social media to show everyone they're just people. they're not evil, they're not trying to hurt anyone, they're just trying to get by.

after a few years, there's more people fighting for demigods rather than against them. it's the governments that are scared, and now not only do they have gods and demigods to worry about, they have a possible rebellion to fight. demigods aren't being excluded anymore. instead, their abilities are being embraced. nobody's sure how the world will react when they find out about the other pantheons, but that's not important yet.

percy films videos showing off new rome. connor stoll gathers up other year-round campers to run socials for camp half-blood. the legions of camp jupiter are doing tik tok dances in their armor. sure, they're still forced to wear the armbands, and sure, some people still hate them, but things are better than they were. people are on their side. the life of a demigod is never easy, but it doesn't have to be bad either.

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Chapter 2: Do you want me to burn your cookie?

First flashback chapter, yay! Let's see how things were with younger Emily at camp. So that you don't get confused, this is set before Annabeth and Luke first even make it to Long Island

Word count: 2500 ish words

Warnings: None I can think of

Fic masterlist here!

Age 6

It was during the last days of spring when Emily met Ares again.

She had been at camp for a few weeks now, and the arrival of the rest of the demigods was impendent. Until now, she had only met her fellow year-round campers, some of them also from the Ares cabin; it was weird at first for her to understand that they were her siblings (or half-siblings, to be clear), but Chiron had taken his time to explain everything to her, and answer every question she had: Why do we burn food? Can I ride the Pegasi? When will Daddy come see me?... and so on.

As she was still pretty young, and unfamiliar to their world, Chiron let her miss out on the last weeks of first grade, letting her explore the new surroundings on her own; she was a child of Ares, she would be fine by herself. So she met the people around camp, Mr. D (who she didn’t really like, especially after he insisted on calling her “Ellie”, almost as if wrong on purpose), and the satyrs, who she followed around the crops, marvelling at how they played music to help the plants grow. Once she was settled, and after a general introduction from the centaur to camp half-blood, Emily’s curious nature took over, and she spend her mornings roaming the wild.

Ares watched her. He saw her run through the forest, her teddy bear under her arm, discovering, playing, and laughing to herself. She found many animals, small and some bigger ones, and she befriended many, always guarded by the spirits of the woods to ensure her safety; she was a sweet child, despite her heritage, and they guarded her while she was alone outside. She didn’t seek destruction, or causing havoc; she was tranquil, and adventurous.

Maybe it was because her environment had been a good one during her first years, but she wasn’t as brute, gruff and brash as Ares had expected her to be. It surprised him, to be honest.

During the afternoons, Emily was introduced by her siblings to training. However, she was small, and they were older, taller and stronger than her, so she sticked to the side, watching them fight with swords, spears and other weapons of their choice against other campers. They were nice enough to show her the basics, although she was still too petite to hold a sword properly, so her siblings introduced her to using daggers and other small weapons first.

“Why do I have to learn this?” she pouted, frustrated at her failed attempts of doing what her older brother had taught her; it was still weird for her to think of them as her siblings, as she had never had any and now there were… a lot, but she was slowly getting used to it “I don’t want to do this”

“You are a child of Ares” said one of the boys, a son of Apollo “Fighting comes natural to those of your kind”

“But I don’t want to fight” she replied, still pouting “I don’t want to hurt anyone”

“Maybe not, but there are monsters out there who won’t hesitate to come after you, and kill you if they get their chance” the girl who spoke, a daughter of Hermes, received glares of reproach upon saying that, and she was shoved to the side by one of Emily’s brothers after seeing how scared she looked now “Hey, it’s true, the sooner she learns the better for her”

“There are monsters out there?”

“You are safe at camp, don’t worry” one of her brothers kneeled beside her, handing back to her the dagger that had fallen from her hand to the ground “But she’s right. The sooner you start training, the stronger you will be”

Strong. Emily watched her siblings, bulked, skilled, tough… and she honestly doubted if training would ever make her look as powerful as them. She was only six years old, she didn’t know if she was actually strong enough to grow into a warrior like them.

She sat alone later (although accompanied by her teddy bear, her loyal companion), on the edge of the forest in front of the beach, munching on some cookies Chiron had given her. The waves of Long Island Sound crashed rhythmically against the shore, whilst Emily couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy that lingered within her; she could still hear her siblings at the arena, laughing while they playfully fought, and the music the satyrs played at the strawberry fields. Beside her on the grass lay the dagger she had been training with, and she looked at it with uncertainty.

Her little fingers wrapped around the hilt, her gaze examining the weapon: it was bronze, the handle was covered in leather, and the blade had small Greek symbols engraved into the metal. Due to her dyslexia, she’d always had trouble reading, however these letters didn’t dance in front of her eyes as it usually happened. This time, she only had trouble understanding the word itself, because she didn’t know the language.

“Need some help?”

Emily instantly recognized that voice. She turned around, and there he stood: her father, a few feet away, leaning against a tree.

“Daddy!”

Squealing, Emily stood up, the dagger falling on the ground beside her Teddy and the plate with cookies. She crashed into Ares’ legs, smiling up at him, jumping with excitement.

The first days at camp had been tough, especially because she constantly waited for Ares to show up and take her with him again; yeah, she was amazed by the nature surrounding her, the cabins and the new environment in general, but she missed her parents: her mother wouldn’t come back, she knew that, but she still had her father, right? Her siblings were no help, telling her that she shouldn’t get her hopes up, because godly parents weren’t known for being present in their demigod children’s lives, but she was sceptical, thinking that if he had come for her after her mother’s passing, maybe he would come again. So she burned part of her food at every meal like they had taught her, thinking of a message for her dad, just as her siblings had explained to her how she should do. She prayed to him, in her own childish way of how she thought praying was done, and thought of him when she was alone in her bunk bed at night, missing being tucked in; he had never done that, that was all her mother… but now she only had Ares, and she longed for him to care for her.

And on the verge of losing hope, fortunately, he came.

Ares wasn’t really sure what had motivated him to visit her. He never did stuff like that; the gods sometimes gave out missions, quests or requests for demigods to fulfil, and only then would they actually show up. But they usually never visited their children. Maybe the reason was that he had been sick of Hermes talking about his latest travels and the gossip he had picked up, or that he didn’t want to face his father after him requesting everyone to show up that day at Olympus. Maybe it was an impulse that arose from having been watching her from time to time the last few weeks, or maybe… something he couldn’t name. And he for sure wasn’t going to show up anytime soon once summer began, not with the rest of the campers there: he would definitely stand out, and he didn’t have time to deal with a bunch of dumb children if they noticed him.

Seeing Emily there, though, sitting on the edge of the forest, reluctantly clutching the dagger in between her hands, he appeared behind her, watching her study the engraving of the weapon. The breeze stirred her hair, while she mumbled to herself, trying to spell the word she couldn’t read, when he decided to reveal himself.

He awkwardly patted her head, definitely not expecting so much excitement from her side. He thought she would probably really hate him by now, after abandoning her there and not acknowledging her for weeks.

Emily began to talk, words thrown at him a hundred miles per minute, telling him everything she had seen and learned at camp half-blood about the gods, the goddesses, the satyrs, the centaurs… and that she loved the Pegasi, and the strawberries they ate, and that she had met her older siblings.

Ares wasn’t used to being around little kids very often; he kind of avoided them, as he didn’t really know how to handle them. Emily was very much like other children her age: small, innocent, and filled with excitement. It stirred something inside him, thinking that that sweet little girl came from him.

“What do you have there?”

He pointed to the dagger, and Emily went to get it, Ares remaining where he stood. His daughter, back at his side, raised the small weapon up to him, the bronze metal shining under the spring sun.

“My brother gave it to me. It says something here, but I don’t know what it means” she told him, frowning. Ares thought she looked cute when she did that, little face scrunched in confusion “Do you know it?”

It didn’t take him more than a glance to recognize the word.

“That word means ‘Ares’” he explained, smug smile on his face “That’s me”

“You?”

“The only one there is, princess”

He wasn’t planning on calling her that, and if so, it wasn’t meant seriously, more so in a mocking, sarcastic way. However, Emily’s face lit up, and he couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Daddy?” he hummed in response, listening “Are you a god?” It seemed that she had caught up on the meaning of that word. Of what that meant, and the power it held. Ares nodded, telling her that he was the God of war. She nodded back, biting her lower lip before speaking again “So… you’re like, really old, right?”

Ares laughed, not expecting that question.

“You could say that” he shrugged, still chuckling.

“Why are you the god of war?” her head tilted to the side, looking him in the eyes, her own full of curiosity “Why not the god of trees? Or the god of flowers, or clouds, or… dogs? They are sweet, I like them”

Something similar to a short circuit occurred inside his head. He didn’t expect those questions. She was just like her mother, full of curiosity. Ares paused, taken aback, and pondered for a moment, contemplating how to explain the complexities of his role as the god of war to a young child; his title had been given to him so long ago… he had just rolled with it over the centuries, throughout the millennia’s.

“I just am, kid” he couldn’t just tell a six year old that he was the god of war because he was seen as someone aggressive, violent, cruel and… just everything that accompanied the brutalities of battles. In ancient Greece, citizens used to hope he would not take notice of their cities, because they believed he only carried death and suffering with his presence “I’m territorial. I’m not afraid of fighting. I get what I want when I want, and don’t let anyone steal what’s mine. And if they do, I won’t let them go unpunished”

War isn’t only about that, though. It’s about protecting what you love, standing up for what’s right, and sometimes, making sacrifices for the greater good. Many use war to get what they desire, yes, and start a fight for unjustified reasons, but true war, a true fight, is for defending what you believe in. Ares also embodied all of that, even though he had forgotten it himself.

"But why not trees or flowers?" she persisted, her curiosity unabated. Ares smiled, amused by her innocence and inquisitiveness.

"Each god has their own domain, their own special role to play in the world. Trees have their own protector, as do flowers and clouds. And as for dogs… I like them too. My uncle Hades has a very cool one”

“One of Mommy’s friends had a big dog, and he brought it with him sometimes when he came visited” she explained, doing a face. She didn’t see Ares’ eyebrow raise when mentioning her mothers’ ‘friend’ “I didn’t like that dog, though. He had big teeth, and he barked a lot. He scared me”

“At camp you will learn to fight and to defend yourself, so you won’t have to be afraid anymore. Not of any dogs, and not of any monsters”

“But I don’t want to fight monsters, Daddy. I’m not strong enough. They’ll eat me!”

Ares almost chuckled, certainly amused.

“They’re not going eat you, Ems” again, that nickname wasn’t planned. He had to start controlling himself “Not if you win”

“But I’m tiny. They will get me and swallow me”

“You will not be tiny forever. You’ll grow, learn, and train. You’re my kid: fighting comes natural to you” it was the same thing the Apollo boy had said to her; coming from her father, though, she started to consider those words as a possible truth “You’ll be just fine”

“Do you think I’m strong enough?”

She referred physical strength, but also mental, even if she didn’t know what she really meant with that question. In her eyes, her siblings and the other campers she had met seemed all so strong and tough; it was of course the result of years of tutoring in the skills of combat, shaping their moves and reflexes, moulding their bodies. It seemed impossible to ever reach that level of strength.

“My kids are warriors. Eventually, you are strong” Emily did her cute frown, not completely understanding what he meant. Ares had to find the words, not really knowing how to answer her. Oh, his little girl, always asking the tough questions. He hadn’t really thought about that… if he considered her strong enough, but the answer came to him in a breeze once he contemplated it “Yes, you are strong enough. But Emily, strength is not only about size, or power. It’s about determination, and courage; believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Look… you may be small now, but you’re a strong kid. And one day, you’ll grow into a strong warrior”

Emily hugged his legs again then, smiling up at him. The sincerity and admiration in her expression towards him stirred something inside Ares, like the day he had left her at camp.

“Thank you, Daddy”

He nodded, acknowledging her words. She let go of him then, running back to where her Teddy and her plate of cookies lay, grabbing one of said biscuits, offering it to him.

“For you” she smiled, and he was actually speechless for a second, not knowing how to react to such an innocent and kind gesture. Emily understood that in her own way, remembering how she threw part of her food into the fire every day praying to him “Oh… do you want me to burn it for you?”

Ares snickered, a smile taking over his face, shaking his head no. He ruffled her hair, and accepted the cookie; he took a big bite out of it, and Emily smiled again.

----

Taglist: @strawberryys-stuff @ladysybilchronicles @kyuupidwrites @nhloversblog @beansficreblogs @priyajoyy @zeeader @lightsgore

[crazyyluvr]

Ahhhh that Jason fic was so good! I loved how you write him so stern and caring!

I was wondering if you could do another Jason fic where reader is sort of working herself weary, maybe she feels like she has something to prove especially with how powerful everyone is so she’s been volunteering for watches and missions and helping hedge and just everything she can around the ship and she starts to crack a bit so everyone tries to get her to take a break but she’s super stubborn and no one can except Jason on like his third try she finally gives in and rests?

(Like when he told Hazel to eat in your last fic, sort of that vibe it makes me weak in the knees!)

Overworked, Underappreciated (by the gods)

pairing: jason x gf!ares!reader

summary: Jason notices you're overworking yourself again, and despite him and everyone on the Argo II trying to tell you to take a break, you never really sit your ass down until he finally convinces you to do so.

genre: angst/comfort

wc: 2.6k

warning/s: cursing, fem reader, she/her pronouns, overworking, jason being stern, stubborn reader, mmm godly father issues, breakdown

note: thank you for your request anon!! i hope it's fine that i made this one kind of a continuation of this oneshot, but it can be read seperately. enjoy!

oneshot under the cut :: not edited

Jason always admired your hard work and determination.

Sure, you were constantly aggressive about it and telling everyone to fuck off if they complimented you on that, he still considered it one of the countless things that he loved about you.

But of course, there were times where that hard work and determination would lead to something unmanageable, like your tendency to overwork yourself.

You were an expert at hiding it, but Jason knew that beneath your tough and angry exterior, you always felt like you weren't giving enough despite giving a little too much already. You were a daughter of Ares, and your godly lineage didn't grant you much except for anger issues.

You weren't as good with weapons as your siblings. You definitely weren't as good at anything as Clarisse, your half-sister and your dad's favorite kid. Actually, all your other brothers and sisters had at least some sign that Ares acknowledged their existence. You on the other hand got nothing except that you could reach your boiling point seven times faster than the average person.

They have to thank Jason for being there to calm you down, because they all don't just feel like, but they know that if he wasn't with them, the ship would have sunk two days in the water or air.

They never really expected you to be the type to give all — and I mean, all your energy into whatever you need to do.

Replacing the ripped sails after a battle with some pirates? Step back. If not, you'd just push any one of them out of the way and grab the new sails from them and replace it on your own. Frank was a constant victim, despite being the burliest of them.

A large tentacle wrapped around the ship? They don't dare to think about chopping it into pieces before you came in, sword weaving through the monster like it was made of clay. Percy steps out from below decks to give the monster a little chat but slips on the blood it left in its wake.

Zeus/Jupiter decided to fuck around with them and send a lightning bolt striking almost right beside Percy? You'd immediately push him into the nearest demigod's arms and put out the fire yourself before the water boy could even process what was happening.

Even the simplest tasks around the Argo II, like cleaning the stables, rearranging the medbay, cleaning up the kitchen either after a meal or after the ship was constantly swaying and made a mess of fallen plates and food, you'd curse someone out just for trying to grab a broom or open their mouth to tell you that they can do it instead.

Jason was no exception to this treatment, and he didn't expect to be; he just wanted to make sure that you knew your limits as well as he did.

"You're low on medical equipment," Hedge grunted, stepping into the small dining room one afternoon while everyone was eating lunch. "I'm gonna go restock it."

Today was a slow day for the eight demigods, and they were grateful for it. All they had to do was the usual chores before they could chill anywhere on the ship.

Which is why no one was surprised you were the one who wanted to break the mundane routine. "I'll go with you," you huffed, standing up with your plate in your hands, maneuvering around the short half goat man to put the dirty dish in the sink. "I'll make sure your stupid fur brains doesn't get the wrong shit."

"Us satyrs are damn good healers, mind you!" Hedge bleated angrily.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah with colored leaves and rituals and shit."

Before Hedge could retaliate, Annabeth stepped into the conversation. "You should rest today. I can go with Hedge and help him pick out the right items."

"No need, Brains," You shot her down. "I can do this. Are you suggesting otherwise?" Your voice raised threateningly, making Annabeth raise her hands in surrender.

"No, but I —"

"Good." You turned back to Hedge. "Let's go before you get more dirt on floor I just mopped, old man."

You left the room without waiting for the satyr to follow. Hedge muttered colorful insults under his breath, moving to exit the dining as well before Jason stopped him by asking, "Coach, can you watch over her? She's been working constantly these past few weeks, and she hasn't really caught a break."

Hedge rose an eyebrow. "Can't you do that yourself? Aren't you her boyfriend or something?"

"I tried, but it's hard to convince her," Jason sighed, leaning back in his chair exhaustedly. "Just — look out for her, yeah? And don't tell her I told you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hedge waved him off. "It'll be my head."

The coach left without another word.

"I'm worried about her," Percy confessed, Frank and Piper nodding in agreement. "I tried asking her if she needed help yesterday, and she almost bit my head off."

"And you would've thought that she'd learn by now to stop herself when she starts to overwork again," Leo commented.

Hazel sighed. "If she doesn't give herself time to recharge, she's going to shut down."

Jason simply played around with his leftover food, deep in thought. "Yeah..."

—————

Thank the gods you returned without any issues besides the usual profanities exchanged between you and Hedge. He left soon after that, claiming that he had "business elsewhere," and said that they should get going on their journey without him.

They left the day after that. They knew he'd make his way back to camp eventually.

The streak of calm continued, even as the Argo II departed from the sea and launched into the air. There weren't as much monsters that showed up to annoy them like flies hovering in their ears.

You and Jason were on watch that night. Thankfully, there wasn't much of a threat in the clouds, so Jason just sat down on a random crate while you paced around, playing with the straps of your leather breastplate.

"Hey, you can sit down for a while," Jason said, watching you go to and from the large wooden post in the middle.

You scowled at him in response. "We're supposed to be on watch. If we relax, we fall asleep. If we fall asleep, monsters attack. If monsters attack, the others could get swept up in that shit knowing how stupid they are."

Your concern for your other crewmates was evident despite how much you tried to hide it by insulting their abilities.

"Sweetheart, its okay," Jason said, still trying to convince you. He wasn't feeling all that tired, which is why he could cover for the both of you. You, on the other hand, looked like you were going insane, the dark half-circles under your eyes apparent even in the weak and diluted moonlight. "You can for now. I promise I'll wake —"

"I can't rest!" Your voice cracked slightly as you whipped around to face him, your eyes wide with a wildness that caught Jason off guard and made him stand up in concern. "I... I just can't..."

You tried to walk away, but your knees collapsed from below you. "Woah careful!"

In a flash, your boyfriend was by your side, barely being able to catch you before you could fully crumple to the ground. "Easy, easy..."

He tried to put your arm around his shoulders so he could lead you to sit down on another crate, but you pushed yourself away from him. Being unable to support yourself, you fell down on your ass.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, moving to approach you, but you put up your hand to stop him.

"Fuck off, I don't need help," you said, trying to sound angry, but all Jason could hear was your exhaustion.

"Hey, stop being stubborn," Jason frowned, stepping towards you and putting your arm around his shoulders successfully this time, despite your protests and your struggles to get out of his iron grip.

"Fine, just — just put me down there," You gestured to the crate he was sitting on previously. He was originally going to bring you down to your room, but judging from the glance you gave him from the corner of your eye, you could still snap his arm in half if you wanted to.

And so, he obliged, making sure that your feet barely touched the ground as he basically carried you to your destination. He gently set you on the crate, making sure to stand close in front of you so that you wouldn't try to bolt.

"Explain," he said, crossing his arms and peering down at you. You turned your head away from his gaze, and he realized how vulnerable you looked: your eyes were darting around in a desperate attempt to stay alert, but they constantly glazed over, unfocused. Your hands were now fiddling with the strings of your hoodie, their movements slow and groggy. Your upper body was even swaying.

"I..." You started, but sighed and looked up at him. "It's stupid."

Jason's brows furrowed even more at your dismissal. "You almost collapsed from exhaustion. There has to be at least a valid reason for you to compromise your health like that."

You wanted to clamp your jaw shut, but Jason's intense glare made you open your mouth and speak. "You want to know? Fine, I'll tell you. Everyone relies on me — besides Twitchy Fingers — to do what is needed to keep this ship afloat by making sure it doesn't get completely destroyed by the Tartarus-spawn. Every time someone tries to do my job for me, I don't want them to because what if they fuck up and something bad happens? That's gonna be my fuck-up too. I —" You looked away again. "I just can't relax knowing that some bad shit might happen and it'll be my fault."

"I think you're underestimating how well the rest of us can do," Jason said lightly, chuckling a little as he tried to make lift the atmosphere up a little. It didn't work. "We can't do as well as you, of course, but we can manage."

"Oh please, I know damn well how good the rest of you are," You hissed, catching Jason off guard with the anger behind your words. "You all got your own skill sets that your godly parents planted in you that you got to fucking nurture. Even Annabeth, who doesn't have any actual powers, is more of a smartass than all of us combined."

Jason opened his mouth to retaliate, to say that you're downgrading yourself too much, but you didn't let him speak as your voice rose. "And what in the Tartarus did I get from my shitty dad? Fuckin' — fuckin' anger issues, that's what I got. Everything I'm good at — my fighting, my speed, everything — I did that. Ares gave me none of that. That was all me.

"And the moment I thought he'd actually look at me, that he'd acknowledge that I was his kid besides when he claimed me seven months after I came into camp," Your voice got louder still, cracking a little as your eyes got mistier, "is to pay a little visit to Frank in his Roman counterpart."

You stood up now, your body fueled with anger and frustration and other emotions that can't be described. "You wanna know the real reason why I work myself to the brink of exhaustion every time I do what I do, Jason?" Your smile looked maniacal. The few tears that escaped the confines of your lashes didn't really help. "It's because I don't fucking deserve to stand among you. I don't deserve to be on this quest. I don't deserve to be called a 'hero' when we return home as your godly parents shower you with love and attention while mine just thinks 'oh, my kid survived? I had a kid involved?'"

Your body was shaking, but you were done. You fell back down on the crate, holding your head in your hands.

Jason blinked, processing your breakdown. His own chest was contracting painfully as the weight of your words settled in his brain and his heart.

You were feeling this the entire time? Why didn't you say anything?

Your body flinched as you tried to contain a sob, snapping Jason back to reality.

He sat down beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "Oh sweetheart," he sighed sympathetically. "It's okay to cry. Cry as hard as you need."

Jason expected you to push him off of you again, to tell him to not be stupid and to try and bottle your emotions up again. He hoped you wouldn't.

And you didn't. Instead. you took your face out of your hands and planted it on his shoulder, your own shoulder shaking terribly from your suppressed sobs. "Let it out," he cooed, and you didn't hesitate to drown your sobs on the fabric of his t-shirt, subconsciously moving even closer to his body.

He wrapped both his arms around you as he fixed his position, his upper body now almost fully facing you to give you more comforting hug.

He stroked the back of your head and whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you let all your pent-up anger, frustration, disappointment, and just overall sadness. He even planted light kisses over the parts of you that he could reach; your neck, cheek, temple, crown.

It took you a little while for your sobs to turn into little hiccups, but eventually, you were able to calm down. Jason didn't mind that his shoulder was soaked from your tears. He didn't mind that his spine was stiff from being in a slightly uncomfortable position for a period of time. He didn't mind that you were feeling weak and stupid.

Because even after all that, he still saw you as the strongest and most powerful person he knew.

"What about we go back to my room and rest?" Jason suggested softly. You lifted your head in protest, but Jason pushed it back down to his chest. "I'm sure Hazel and Frank are having trouble sleeping from the good nap they had earlier. They can cover for us."

"I don't want to burden them," You said weakly.

Jason immediately shook his head. "You're a burden to no one on this ship, okay? They won't mind. And besides, it's not weak to ask for a little help once in a while. No one thinks you're weak."

You looked up at him. "You sure?"

Jason nodded, smiling softly. "Absolutely. From what I can see, you're the strongest person here."

You raise an eyebrow. "You sure there's no bias there?"

"Yes I'm 100% sure," Jason said seriously, before breaking into a smile when a breathy laugh escaped your lips. You don't do it often, but Jason loved your laughs. They were always genuine, and Jason would do anything to make you laugh again.

"So, what do you say? Let's go to my dorm," Jason said, supporting you when he felt you moving to stand up.

"You better not do anything weird to me, Grace," you threatened, but there was no heat behind your words.

Jason smiled softly, leading you back below decks. "Never."

He left you in the dorm before he went to convince Hazel and Frank to cover their shift, promising that he'll make up for it. They didn't care. They were just happy that you were finally resting.

Once the blonde boy returned, he found that you were already curled up under the sheets, face relaxed and breaths coming out of you evenly. His eyes softened fondly at your peaceful and stress-free features.

He flipped the light switches, blanketing his room in darkness as he navigated under the sheets to join you. He gathered you up in his arms and curled against you, sighing in content.

"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered against your head, placing a small kiss on the back of it as he felt sleep slowly invade his vision. "I love you."

[pjo-tvs-version]

I wrote another Percabeth fanfic! After seeing that you all actually liked the first fanfic, I decided to write another one. This one is about Annabeth's POV of the scene in The Last Olympian where she gets stabbed by a poison dagger. Title is from Willow by yet again Taylor Swift (it's one of my favorite songs). Happy reading!!

Life Was A Willow and it Bent Right To Your Wind

"Percy!" I yelled. "You've already routed them. Pull back! We're overextended!" Percy was being too heroic at the moment. Just one look at my surroundings told me that we had to retreat. I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armour, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design. The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold. The Apollo campers and I faltered involuntarily. Luke I thought. No it was Kronos. Luke did not have those cruel, heartless golden eyes, Kronos did.  But I couldn’t help but think about my memories of him- all of which broken in my mind because of everything he did. Focus Annabeth, see the battle around me. The monsters we'd been pursuing reached the Titan's line and were absorbed into the new force. Kronos gazed in our direction. He was a quarter mile away from us. 

"Now," Percy  said, "we pull back." The Titan lord's men drew their swords and charged. The hooves of their skeletal horses thundered against the pavement. Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding. "Retreat!" Percy told the group of demigods. "I'll hold them.'" In a matter of seconds they were on us. Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but I stayed right beside me, fighting with my knife and mirrored shield as we slowly backed up the bridge. I couldn’t leave Percy alone in a situation like this and after our last experience in the Labyrinth, I never will. Kronos's cavalry swirled around us, slashing and yelling insults. The Titan himself advanced leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Being the lord of time, I guess he did. I felt tears brimming at the corner of my eyes. Luke had been a brother to me when no one even cared about me. Whatever he did and is doing is beyond wrong but still I cannot make myself believe that we have to kill him soon enough or we are doomed. Ugh why are thoughts distracting me so much today? I try to concentrate on the fight so as to escape my depressing thoughts.

  I felt a stab of pain in my heart as I looked at Luke’s no Kronos’ army. I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren't monsters. They were demigods who'd fallen under Kronos's spell. I couldn't see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they'd better dismount and fight me on foot. 

Percy and I stayed shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions. I felt a spark of warmth at the familiarity. Ever since the labyrinth, we weren't the same and I missed the many things we did together. I will never admit it out loud but Percy was the best battle partner I could ask for. I kept on blocking the attacks of a dracaenae when I saw a demigod, a knife in hand ready to plunge. .He wore an eye patch under his war helm: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. He was alive only because of Percy’s generosity. I followed his gaze which was difficult considering I was already battling a reptile woman.  The knife was not aimed at me but at Percy. Panic arose in my mind and my thoughts were speeding inside me. I had a few seconds but my mind was running in different directions. Percy is invincible, I chided. But I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease inside me. I had to make a decision now. I had to make a similar choice back in the labyrinth. However I regretted it so I corrected my mistake now. I won’t let Percy get hurt again if I can help it. I take a deep breath and hurl my shield at the dracaenae. After that was done, I hurled myself in front of the knife.

I braced myself for the pain to hit. I had anticipated that it would be pretty bad considering the force with which Ethan plunged it and I just added more momentum by hurling myself in front of it. It was way worse. A scream arose which I couldn't control.I reflexively clutched my shoulder which was now oozing with blood. The blood had seeped through my camp t-shirt. My head felt dizzy and my knees buckled. 

Behind me, Percy shouted "Annabeth!". I couldn’t think thanks to the wound but there is something else too. The pain got more intense with every passing second and I could feel myself shivering. Percy’s face showed every possible emotion he was feeling. Confusion, concern,anger and worry. Percy locked eyes with the enemy demigod. Perhaps he was regretting his decision to set Ethan free. To my astonishment, Percy slammed him in the face with his sword hilt so hard he dented his helm. My vision is getting blurry now. From the pain? From tears? I had no idea.

 "Get back!" Percy slashed the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from me. "No one touches her!" I had a feeling that the pain was making me so delirious that I was hearing things. Did Percy just say “No one touches her” or was it just me hallucinating. I had never seen him so vehement about anything. Through my fuzzy vision I saw Luke (no Kronos)  towering above us on his skeletal horse, his scythe in one hand. “Interesting,” he said. It sounded downright ominous. "Bravely fought, Percy Jackson," he said. "But it's time to surrender . . . or the girl dies." No, I couldn't  let him surrender. Not now after all the training and preparation. After all the sacrifices. I find my voice and manage to croak the words "Percy, don't". It happened so fast, barely in the blink of an eye. "Blackjack!" Percy yelled. As fast as light, the pegasus swooped down and clamped his teeth on the straps of my armour. We soared away over the river, into the sky.

I must have passed out from the pain midair because right now I was covered in blankets, lying down on a lounge chair, on a balcony. Under different circumstances I would've loved the view from the terrace. It looked straight down onto Central Park. The morning was clear and bright—perfect for a picnic or a hike, or pretty much anything except fighting monsters. My thoughts race and my thinking process is still not clear because of the stab wound. My first thought was Percy. Was he okay? Is he alive? Did he die again because of me? My Athena heritage isn't helping much either. The many logical facts and the unfair odds threaten the hope I have about Percy being alive. I hear crying and recognize it at once. Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, was sniffling and speaking. I heard her saying “... better come quickly with a healer from the Apollo Cabin. Hurry Percy.” 

So Percy is alive. Thank the gods. At once I am threatened by another thought- Did he surrender. Then a wave of pain washes over me causing me to grimace. My thoughts are scattered and I feel  as though my wound is burning. My forehead breaks into sweat and Silena places a cool cloth on my forehead. She is crying, sobbing and apologising. I try to ask her why she is so miserable but the words stay stuck in my throat. “I’m sorry Annabeth. I’m so sorry.” she sniffles. I am puzzled. Why is apologising? She wasn't even there when I got hurt. “It isn't your fault Silena.” I try to reassure her through my broken voice. “Rest now Annabeth, she said, feeling my forehead.”

It was difficult to abide by Silena’s request. I kept on drifting into unconsciousness and consciousness, unable to ignore the throbbing pain in my shoulder and the burning sensation I felt around the wound. It must have been a while when I heard panicked footsteps approaching towards me. I try to turn my head with all my remaining energy to see Percy running and Will Solace behind him.

He looked aghast whilst looking at me. Was I looking that beat up? “Annabeth-” he choked. He looked so concerned, so guilty that I tried to lighten the mood a little. “Poison on the dagger, Pretty stupid of me. Huh?” I mumbled. Will undid the bandages. He exhaled with relief. "It's not so bad, Annabeth. A few more minutes and we would've been in trouble, but the venom hasn't gotten past the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Somebody hand me some nectar." 

Percy grabbed the canteen of nectar faster than I could have said Seaweed Brain. Will started applying the godly drink on my wound and as if on reflex. I grabbed Percy’s hand, squeezing it. The pain was too much. Will had told me to lie still which was becoming more difficult with every passing second. "Ow," I said. "Ow, ow!". Silena muttered words of encouragement. Will put some silver paste over the wound and hummed words in Ancient Greek—a hymn to Apollo. I felt better. The pain was relatively less intense and the poison’s burning sensation had been significantly reduced.Then he applied fresh bandages and stood up shakily. The healing must've taken a lot of his energy. He looked almost as pale as me. "That should do it," he said. "But we're going to need some mortal supplies." I realised that I was still gripping Percy’s hand (which had now turned purple because I gripped it a tad too hard) and let go awkwardly.

Will  grabbed a piece of hotel stationery, jotted down some notes, and handed it to Malcolm. "There's a Duane Reade on Fifth. Normally I would never steal—" "I would," Travis volunteered. Will glared at him. "Leave cash or drachmas to pay, whatever you've got, but this is an emergency. I've got a feeling we're going to have a lot more people to treat." Nobody disagreed. There was hardly a single demigod who hadn't already been wounded . . . except Percy. "Come on, guys," Travis Stoll said. "Let's give Annabeth some space. We've got a drugstore to raid . . . I mean, visit." The demigods shuffled back inside. Jake Mason grabbed Percy’s shoulder as he was leaving. "We'll talk later, but it's under control. I'm using Annabeth's shield to keep an eye on things. The enemy withdrew at sunrise; not sure why. We've got a lookout at each bridge and tunnel." "Thanks, man," Percy said. He nodded. "Just take your time." 

He closed the terrace doors behind him, leaving Silena, Percy, and me alone. Silena pressed a cool cloth to Annabeth's forehead. "This is all my fault." "No," I said weakly. Why did she keep blaming herself? "Silena, how is it your fault?" "I've never been any good at camp," she murmured. "Not like you or Percy. If I was a better fighter . . ." Her mouth trembled. Ever since Beckendorf died she'd been getting worse, and every time I looked at her, it made me worried even more about her. Her expression reminded me of glass—like she might break any minute. "You're a great camper," Percy told Silena. "You're the best pegasus rider we have. And you get along with people. Believe me, anyone who can make friends with Clarisse has talent." She stared at Percy like he had just given her an idea. 

 "That's it! We need the Ares cabin. I can talk to Clarisse. I know I can convince her to help us." Silena beamed. "Whoa, Silena. Even if you could get off the island, Clarisse is pretty stubborn. Once she gets angry—" Percy tried to say. "Please," Silena said. "I can take a pegasus. I know I can make it back to camp. Let me try." He exchanged looks with me. I nodded slightly. I didn't like the idea. I didn't think Silena stood a chance of convincing Clarisse to fight. On the other hand, Silena was so distracted right now that she would just get herself hurt in battle. Maybe sending her back to camp would give her something else to focus on. "All right," Percy told her. "I can't think of anybody better to try." Silena threw her arms around Percy. Then she pushed back awkwardly, glancing at me. Well that was weird. "Um, sorry. Thank you, Percy! I won't let you down!" she added.

Once she was gone, Percy knelt next to me and felt my forehead. He had so much concern in his eyes. The expression on his face was endearing. Maybe the poison did something to my head because the next words just sprouted out from my lips. "You're cute when you're worried,". "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together." My thoughts were unclear, but here I am complementing Percy on his looks after being stabbed by a poison dagger. It was true after all. His eyes reminded me of a cute baby seal and his hair was tousled making him look cute. No Annabeth, I chide myself, I am not going to go over my feelings with battle going on. "You are not going to die while I owe you a favour," Percy retorted. 

"Why did you take that knife?" He said nothing about my comment. It hurt a little considering the events of last summer (I’m looking at Racheal here). I sigh, hope doesn't come without a cost (the cost here being my broken heart but lets ignore that, we are at war).  "You would've done the same for me." It was true. I guess we both knew it. I stare at him and he looks at me dead serious, the twinkle in his eyes was lost. I realised then something else more serious must be going on in his mind because he was seldom this serious. 

"How did you know?" he asked, panicking. "Know what?" He looked around to make sure we were alone. Then he leaned in close and whispered: "My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died." My heart skipped a beat as he leaned. Why do I always feel like this around Percy? Then my ears caught on the words ‘Achilles spot’. So he took a dip in the Styx. That was such a risky and stupid thing to do. But it was exactly the type of thing he will do. He would sacrifice himself for anyone close to him.  Even though I call it stupid, it was indeed a smart move. Maybe I’ll tell him that if (no when there can be no if) we come out alive from the war. He looks at me and suddenly I remember that I should answer his question. "I don't know, Percy.” I admit. “ I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where . . . where is the spot?" 

I didn't expect him to tell me his weakness though. I could be fatal and I would understand if he didn't want to tell me either (though it would hurt on the inside but let's forget about that part.) He should know that he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. "The small of my back." he answers. He told me? He told me his one weakness? His one fatal liability? I was in utter shock. I didn't expect  Seaweed Brain to trust me about something this fatal. But he did and that surprised me.

I guess curiosity is an ingrained trait of the Athenian brain. I wanted to know exactly where. Without thinking, I lifted my hand. "Where? Here?" I asked.  I put my hand on Percy’s spine, and my skin tingles from the warmth of the touch. Why do I keep feeling sparks every time I’m even close to Percy?  Percy moved my fingers to the one spot that grounded him to his mortal life. I shouldn't be feeling like this but  I will confess that I loved the intimacy that this moment carried. "You saved me," Percy said. "Thanks." I could practically hear the gratitude in his voice. It made the pain worth it. I cannot believe that I am saying this but I would have taken another poisoned dagger in a heartbeat for him. As much as I hated it, I removed my hand.  But I kept holding it. I am not going to lie, it made me feel surreal when it shouldn’t.  Small gestures by him send jolts of electricity through me. But I shouldn't feel like this. He saw me only as his friend and battle partner, nothing else. So I just switch to our usual banter.

 "So you owe me," I said weakly. "What else is new?" We watched the sun come up over the city. It felt peaceful and I was content for a moment. I wanted to savour the moment. In battle you appreciate the rare quiet times one gets. But of course my thoughts wonder as I study my surroundings.

The traffic should've been heavy by now, but there were no cars honking, no crowds bustling along the sidewalks. Far away, I could hear a car alarm echo through the streets. A plume of black smoke curled into the sky somewhere over Harlem. I wondered how many ovens had been left on when the Morpheus spell hit; how many people had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking dinner. Pretty soon there would be more fires. it made sad to see such a busy town being reduced to a battlefield by the Titans… and the Gods. Oh gods, Percy must be feeling terrible seeing his town in such a condition.  Everyone in New York was in danger—and all those lives depended on us. 

Did Annabeth sound a little too lovergirl in this? I don't know. Phew, this was a long one so it will probably have a lot of mistakes. As always positive criticism is appreciated. Hope you liked it!

You can read it on AO3 here

[y-rhywbeth2]

I'd hardly call Bane a good boss, but he is capable of being... lenient with some of his followers. It's not like Fzoul has a perfect record, but Bane kept him around as a demigod and later resurrected him after his death; he spared a follower who failed him for Blackthorne's sake; and Manshoon is a little Mystran bastard of a wizard who only pays lip service to Bane but there's still this being said:

'Though his fortunes have risen and fallen with Bane’s, ever since, the two have aided each other effectively. Bane’s return was rooted in creatures readied by Manshoon’s magic. In gratitude—and from a desire to maintain one of his most useful mortal pawns—Bane has rescued Manshoon time and time again.' - Elminster's Forgotten Realms

I mean last I heard Manshoon is... in pieces in several meanings of the word (clone fiascos and all), but still.

And then there's Gortash with - I think I recall - the scriptures in his private rooms/office with the spine permanently damaged from opening them to the self-punishment/absolution pages who Bane pretty much admits he's annoyed with (eternal punishment is not necessarily guaranteed, Bane is capable of forgiving and was clearly impressed enough by Gortash to make him Chosen originally).

Like where specifically did you start pissing the Dark One off, Enver? Was it maybe the Bhaalspawn. Do you lack faith, or does Bane lack faith in you? Is the root of that maybe the decidedly unhateful sentiments and the 'sharing power with an equal' thing?

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu Season 3, Episodes 1-6

//tw mentions of SA

Episode 1 - Fallen Heroes

I had a very long discussion with a friend of mine, who is a fan of medical settings, about how cool the existence of IV within the lore of Krosmoz is.

We didn't come to any conclusion. It was just us fanboying about this. Because my friend loves medical things and I love putting character into situations (some of which would not be survivable, if them being put on IV wasn't possible) (big fan of the concept of Joris getting poisoned and very sick and Kerubim and Atcham freaking the fuck out).

Funnily enough, during the making of my YouTube series, I discovered that there are two Sram-venerating women named Toxine in this franchise.

Adamai harbouring feelings of violence towards the members of the brotherhood is a good idea, (<- obviously the guy that wants Joris to beat the shit out of Kerubim would say this), but man, it could have been so cool if someone competent was working with this idea.

Episode 3 - Oropo's Tower

I should admit, this moment was probably a big win for Tristepin Mental Illness fans. Also, this is sadly the most explicit they can get with the reasons why Tristepin might hate being the Iop god in a cartoon.

He has plenty of reasons. Not only had Iop had 394824 demigods who hated him and felt abandoned by him while suffering fates worse than death (all gods have those) and just as many mortals he took advantage of using the power imbalance of godhood and promises of love (all gods have done that), he also canonically sexually assaulted a woman.

Ngl, if I was Tristepin, I would be considering killing myself — however, the kids and the wife would be sad.

They shuoild do this to Yugo too. He also had other wives. Albeit in an infinitely less insane way than Tristepin. Ankama.., please stop ignoring how existentially horrifying the Eliatrope demigods are.

In the Dofus MMO Kerubim pretty much calls the brotherhood of the forgotten an emo club of people with too much free time on their hands doing nothing but whining about their daddy issues.

And he was so real for that.

Btw canonically, Mishelle/Coqueline makes him feel intimidated (due to her grand age) while she herself doesn't really care about him (besides liking his good attitude towards animals), and is actually besties with Otomai.

Episode 4 - Beastly Girl

I like to headcanon that Joris's relationship with Coqueline is that he projects onto her ("oh god.... being 7 forever would make me kill myself.... even being 3ft tall is already horrible and makes me want to die..... the poor woman must be suffering") while she's like,, 1. probably doesn't think of herself as a "woman". I think she would describe herself as a creature, maybe a girlcreature, and 2. is literally chilling and doesn't give a single shit about anything but animal welfare and direct anti-god action.

I think talking to her would kill Joris because he'd realize that not every immortal person is as insecure about Literally Everything as he is.

She literally says, "the only good gods are ex-gods". We stan a leftist girlcreature?

This screenshot can be used as a reaction image for so many different shows. More fictional parents should say "my child is NOT ascending to godhood and shedding their mortality, becoming something beyond my comprehension, before they're of age. Fuck you."

Episode 5 - A Iop Hides Himself to Cry

You want to read @bitter-panacea's analysis posts about Goultard so bad.

Despite my negative feeling on s3, this is a WIN for Goultard fans, as far as I'm aware. (and Goultard enjoyers, since I kinda consider myself one)

I;'m going to walk into the sea.

Episode 6 - The Ecaflip's Scratching Post

YEAH BABY, A FULL ON IN-SHOW CONFIRMATION OF MY "USH HAS A DIFFERENT MOM THAN KERUBIM AND ATCHAM" HYPOTHESIS.

This might not seem like a contentious issue to normal people. Gods have... a lot of different lovers, so it seems normal to assume that Ush has one mom, while Kerubim and Atcham are twins like Eleley and Flopin, and have a different mom...

But a cancelled game that Tot really liked and still considers canon had really weird "there's an Ecaflip priestess who is the CEO of Giving Birth" lore, and was planned to be the mysterious mom of Kerubim and Atcham (and many other demigods), which contradicts a lot of previously established lore (ankama LOVES retcons. sadly).

I am quite open about thinking this is stupid and not considering this canon until they show her to me in an actual released media (and even then I will find a way to headcanon a better reality). Seeing the series itself acknowledge that Ush is not Atcham and Kerubim's full brother makes me feel quite better.

Hi Ush were you doing [SEXUAL ACTS REDACTED] upon cats again.

Cute...

A normal thing for a Bontarian to do. Blue-clad (metaphorically, he isn't wearing blue but white. Still very Bontarian though) man over here protecting kids and women. While also beating them up.

But unironically, I think it's cute that he has this gap moe of being an evil man who also saves people and cares about honour (because that's a proper thing to do) despite cheating constantly.

Somehow, his shallowness and "I mostly care about appearances, even if I do have a moral code" sort of behaviour is just as Extremely Bontarian as Joris's.... 30 mental illnesses.

THE OST IN THIS EP IS SO GOOD. ECAFLIP FANS WINNING ONCE AGAIN.

Hey past me! Maybe he really does pay these cats to put up with his insane behaviours. 🤨

Yugo, I'm gonna be real with you:

he's probably heard Joris and Kerubim say these exact words at least twice before,

He is reallllllly weird about cats and I am unsure if that's illegal in your setting,

He lured in people to kill in his tower for sport serial killer style.

He's bontarian. -20 morality and honor points immediately.

[presentprompts]

Back on my pjo BS! So I haven’t read the new book but my friend has and she said it was a fantastic way of having Percy say goodbye… Well don’t get me wrong, while a happy mortal life is absolutely what he deserves it’s frankly just not what I (and I think a lot of us) saw as his future.

Throughout the series Percy has always distinguished himself as just… More than every other demigod. While others are definitely powerful, he’s always stood out, and that’s even with his own obviously bias narrative where he downplays himself.

Percy doesn’t want to be immortal, doesn’t want to be a God, and wouldn’t it be a quintessential Greek tragedy for him to become one anyway? Not because of the Gods offering it, but through his sheer power.

So how would I tackle a subject thousands of other fics have also used? Well ‘cos I’m weak for Perpollo, I’d start in the Trials book. Everything in canon until then, but it changes as soon as Percy opens the door. Let’s have him join the quest, let’s have him watch Apollo, a God turned mortal, struggle through his trial and emerge a better person at the end of it. Let’s have Apollo watch this amazing demigod put his life on the line again and again and still stay humble. All the while in the background Percy’s own power is growing dramatically, yet unnoticed by either him or Apollo for varying reasons. Apollo was a God, what does he know as the norm power level of Poseidons children? And Percy is a long time expert at ignoring the obvious. By the end of the story they’ve obviously fallen for each other but neither admit it, convinced it’s one sided.

So I know Apollo becomes a God again without Zeus’ input but I’m imagining this dramatic scene in Olympus where Apollo tries to deny God hood again, after he and Percy finally admit there feelings. Maybe his immortality isn’t definite until he’s welcomed back into the council? Anyway, Apollo tries to tell Percy he loves him and wants to stay mortal cos Percy loved him as a man! Not a God! But Percy won’t let him, hushing him with a kiss and saying how he was a ‘terrible mortal’ and ‘meant to be a God!’ And then leaves. So Apollo becomes a God again, heartbroken as he believes Percy doesn’t love him after all.

Fast forward maybe a year? Later and both are still pining after the other, but won’t admit it as they both think it’s best for the other. When suddenly while on a quest for his father, Percy’s mortality finally burns away. Now where does that leave them? Apollo doesn’t want to approach the new God as he still thinks Percy rejected him due to lack of feelings! And Percy doesn’t wanna approach Apollo as he thinks the sun God must hate him now! Luckily someone has sense, because neither of them do, and assigns Apollo to guide Percy on a quest to find his domains.

I’m imagining this surprisingly slow burn considering they already love each other, as they find their equilibrium again with Percy now a God. His journey to find his domains would take him on a journey mirroring his early quests as he slowly says goodbye to his mortality and the people that represent it.

As for the end I’m thinking Percy having a final goodbye with his mum, where he sees she finally has the safe mortal life, and child, that won’t be taken from her by the Gods. Sally’s backstory always seemed so sad to me and with a lot of opportunity for a story of its own. In Percy’s goodbye I think we could get a really good end to Sally’s character arc, something about finally ending generational curses of bad childhoods. Sally clearly loved her son and was willing to die for him, but ultimately her keeping him with her was extremely dangerous! Not only due to monsters, but that she brought Gabe into their lives, just so she could keep Percy. The end would be as much about her learning to move on as it is about him.

[justaneedle]

If Bianca di Angelo was alive one day she will leave Hunters of Artemis, fight me.

Like, I don't care why: she will get puppy 12-year-old love in boy/girl/monster/whoever/just quite Artemis without specific reason, because FUCK HER.

(I hate Artemis in myths. Just try to imagine how much more I hate Artemis in PJO).

Because you know what?

A little girl, who had one of the TWO reasons for joining them — the desire to find a caretaker, a new family, sooner or later realizes what an unhealthy and toxic environment she has fallen into.

Because hey, what it is — an adult figure who takes on deadly quest the rookie? Who voiced what she doesn't want and hesitate and scared?... Or the head of the cult of men-hating women who preys on prepubescent girls?

Give me di Angelo sibs being part of TA, please.

Because honestly? They were in a Catholic household. Maybe their faith wasn't deep, considering they were children, but, damn it, do you know who has even more reason to look critically at the pjo gods? Those demigods who originally belonged to a different faith.

And it seems like everyone expected Bianca to be their ideal.

First of all, the time and class in which she was born?

Hades, who literally humiliates Nico, saying that Bianca would be better than him (man, you don't know her at all, shut the fuck up with such statements)?

How obviously Bianca thinks herself obliged to take care of Nico, who is actually not much younger — and if we are going to explain this not from the point of view of another fuck up of Rick (!) — then this is due to her loss of memories: Bianca remembers only the last ± year?

Zoe's expectations, seeing her as the next leitnant, what literally killed Bianca?

There is absolutely no doubt to me that sooner or later Bianca would have snapped—

Oh, hi Luke, come in, we have the new candidate for the club ‘too much shit (burden) on our shoulders'.