#percy Jackson fics

[triptuckers]

keep the nightmares away - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  oh nooo what if there's only one bed........ (im a sucker for this trope and WILL use it whenever I can) Warnings:  mentions of wounds, swearing, nightmares Word count:  1.5K A/N:  yall know that audio from the rock "it's about drive it's about power we stay hungry we devour" that's me writing more fics in two days than I have in 6 months. I blame it on my percy jackson hyperfixation. enjoy!

you were so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open. you'd been sent on another quest and had been chased down by monsters for gods know how many times already.

everyone was tired and just wanted to go to bed. but a prophecy had predicted there would be three demigods and a fourth companion on this quest, so it wasn't easy to leave the monsters behind.

'why did we have to be four?' you say softly as you force yourself to keep on walking. 'it would be way more quiet if there were only three of us.'

percy looks over his shoulder in front of you. 'I don't think quests are ever quiet.' he says with a smile.

'you know what I mean.' you say. 'are we there yet?'

'almost.' says annabeth, who is walking with grover in front of percy, holding the map and leading the way. 'it's just over the ridge.'

'thank the gods.' you mutter.

you know annabeth is going to state the facts rather than make something sound good. and sure enough, when you reach the top of the ridge you can see a dimly lit street in the distance.

you can see the motel you're headed for, a diner, and a gas station with a small store.

you're filled with relief of the thought of finally laying down and resting your feet. you could rewrap your wounds and maybe even take a shower if you're lucky and have the energy for it.

'come on, nearly there.' says percy, reaching out and gently tugging you along by your wrist.

if you weren't so tired you'd be reeling over the fact percy is holding your wrist so gently. but all you can think of is how soft the beds would be.

when you get to the motel you're too tired to speak. you let annabeth do all of the talking.

after a few minutes she returns with two keys.

'these are the only ones they had available.' she says, giving percy one.

'come on.' says percy. 'want me to rewrap your arm?'

you nod. a few hours ago, you got your arm sliced open and had to hastily wrap it. you're not very good at it, as the cut is on the back of your upper arm and you can't see it very well.

'grover and I will check the area quickly and then we can all get some rest.' says annabeth. 'regroup in my room at 8 am tomorrow?'

'sure.' says percy while you and grover nod.

you follow percy as he's searching for the room. eventually he stops and you nearly bump into him.

'sorry.' you mutter.

'it's alright.' says percy as he unlocks the door and lets you enter first.

you stop in the door opening, looking at the room.

'what's wrong?' says percy, looking over your shoulder. 'oh.'

yeah. oh. there's only one bed. not even a sofa.

you enter the room and percy shuts the door behind him. of course there's only one bed. and you're so exhausted. you can tell percy is tired as well. he's just better at hiding it.

'come on, let me take care of your arm.' says percy.

you head into the bathroom while percy rummages around his pack for the medical kit.

'sit on the counter.' he says as he enters the bathroom with the medical kit in his hands.

you do as he instructs and rest the back of your head against the mirror. you close your eyes but open them when percy lightly taps your knee.

'need you awake for this. you can sleep after.' he says softly.

you sigh. 'fine.'

'I know you're exhausted. I'll make it quick.'

'thanks, perce.'

percy ignores the way he feels when you call him that. he wonders if you know you're the only one that ever calls him that.

he washes his hands and then gently unwraps the old bandage around your arm. he carefully cleans the cut and starts on rewrapping it, making sure he's not hurting you.

when he's almost done, he feels a weight on his shoulder. he smiles to himself, letting you doze off on his shoulder. he's nearly done, anyway.

he secures the last bit of the bandage and then nudges you awake.

'sorry.' you say, blinking a few times.

'let's get you to the bed.' says percy, offering his hand so you can hop off the counter. 'you can take the first shift.'

you frown. 'first shift?'

'sleeping in the bed.'

'where will you sleep?'

'on the floor. I'll get the pillows off of the chair.'

you shake your head. 'percy, you're tired as well. you've fought just as much as I have. you'll only make it worse by sleeping on the floor. we can share.' you say.

sharing a bed as friends, that's cool right? not a big deal. at least that's what you tell yourself.

percy studies your face. he probably looks as tired as you do.

'it's big enough for the two of us.' you say, reaching down to take off your boots.

'alright.' says percy.

there's a knock on the door and both you and percy freeze. percy reaches inside of his pocket, ready to take out riptide.

'it's me.' says annabeth on the other side. 'all clear. get some rest.'

'thanks, goodnight annabeth.' says percy, visibly relaxing.

you walk over to the bed and lay down on the left side, leaving enough space for percy.

'if I find you on the floor when I wake up I'll make the rest of the quest even more miserable for you.' you mumble as you close your eyes. 'don't be a gentleman.'

'noted.' says percy with a smile, laying down on the other side of the bed, careful to leave more than enough space between the two of you.

it's cool, this is fine. laying next to you in a bed. nothing that could happen, you're just friends. right?

after a while, he can tell you're asleep by the slow breathing coming from your side of the bed.

he's keeping his distance, even if it means he nearly falls off of the bed. he's mind is spinning in circles about the fact you're laying right next to him.

but eventually, he falls asleep. after all, all four of you were utterly exhausted when you reached the motel earlier in the night.

it feels like way too soon when he's woken up again. he frowns, it's still dark outside. he shifts to get comfortable again. but then he feels something hard poke him in his ribs.

'oof.' he grunts softly, then rolls over to see if you're awake. why would you punch him in the middle of the night?

but when he sees you, he noticed your face is scrunched up in agony and you're mumbling something.

he frowns and watches you move around restlessly, nearly hitting him again.

but his frown disappears soon enough. he knows the feeling all too well.

you're having a nightmare.

a bad one, by the looks of it.

gently, he reaches out and pushes a strand of sweaty hair out of your face, then nudges your shoulder.

'hey, wake up.'

in response, you curl up even more so percy shakes you again, a little harder this time.

you wake up and immediately sit up, eyes wide in panic. your hand is scrambling for you belt, where you keep your knives.

'woah, hey, it's alright you're safe, you're with me.' says percy, holding your shoulders and forcing you to look at him.

his sea-green eyes are familiar and calm you down a little. you're breathing heavily and fully aware of percy holding on to your shoulders. you force yourself to push away from him, creating space between the two of you.

'I'm alright.' you say, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly. you would not cry over something as stupid as a nightmare.

'want to talk about it?' says percy softly.

'no I'm fine.'

'talking mostly helps me.'

you sigh and start to fidget with your fingers. why does it feel so embarrassing? you're sure lots of demigods have nightmares, given what you go through on a daily basis.

'it was the gods.' you start. 'I'd failed some sort of quest and they let loose their powers on me. camp half-blood got destroyed. I couldn't find annabeth and grover. there was fire everywhere and you... fuck.'

'it's okay.' says percy softly, encouraging you to go on.

'I found you in the rubble of your cabin.' you whisper.

'shit, I'm sorry.'

'it's alright, I'm alright. you're here now.'

'you think you can try going back to sleep again?'

'yeah, I can try.'

the two of you lay down again, this time with a little less space between you.

'percy?' you say, slowly reaching out to him.

'yeah?'

'is it okay if I...?'

wordlessly, percy reaches out and pulls you against him, where you curl up against his side.

'thanks.' you say, feeling yourself relax again.

'I'll keep the nightmares away.' mumbles percy.

you smile to yourself, closing your eyes and letting percy's heartbeat lull you to sleep. you're confident nightmares wouldn't find you again. you're safe now.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

golden

percy jackson x reader — you take his place on the throne

cw: EPISODE 5 SPOILERS (ish), swearing

The boat bobs along the water slowly. You feel sick. For a while, the two of you just sit there, still reeling.

“You okay?” Percy asks after he catches his breath.

You’d reached out and grabbed his hand without realizing it in your panic. You’re suddenly very aware of his skin on yours, warm and kind of clammy. You disentangle your fingers without comment.

“Yeah.”

He’s about to say something to fill the awkward silence when your eyes widen.

“There’s the shield!” You exclaim, standing.

He follows your gaze to a golden statue, the shield wedged between its hands. The boat doesn’t stop, though. He looks at you, and then back at the statue.

“We’re gonna have to jump,” he says, and you grimace. The artificial waves are getting choppier.

You eye the water.

“On three?” You finally say.

Percy smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring. “On three.”

“One…two-!” Before you can say three, the boat lurches and you both topple over the edge.

As soon as the water closes over your head, you’re struggling and kicking. You can’t tell up from down. Your lungs squeeze, your eyes sting. Somewhere in the haze, you see Percy, and you reach out, but he’s so far. He disappears in a whirl of water, and you think, wow, after all of this, I’m about to die in an amusement park.

Suddenly, something solid rushes to meet you and there’s air on your face and you can’t stop coughing.

Percy places an unsure hand on your back as you suck in rattling breaths. He says something, but it still sounds like everything’s underwater.

You shake your head sharply, hand pressing your ear flat until the water drips out and you can hear again. “I’m alright,” you say, before he asks. He helps you stagger into a standing position. For a few moments, the only sound is your wheezing.

Percy squints at the chair. “This is Hephestasus’ park, right?”

You nod.

“I think this is Hera’s throne,” he says slowly, glancing at you for confirmation.

You vaguely recall that story. “She sat in it and couldn’t get up,” you think aloud.

“It was a trade,” Percy continues. “Aphrodite’s hand in marriage for Hera. The shield for…”

One of us.

Oh.

“I’ll do it.”

He catches your arm as you start forward. “Wait a minute!”

“Whoever goes in there isn’t coming back,” you explain, brows set in a hard line.

“I know, that’s why I said wait!”

You yank your arm back. Percy’s face flickers with something you can’t read.

“You need to stay alive,” you say, stressing every word.

“So do you!”

You shake your head. “You have your mom. You have Grover. You have people who need you.”

The I don’t hangs in the air, unsaid.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

I need you, he wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

“The gods chose you, Percy. This is your quest.”

This is wrong. This is so wrong. It’s cruel, and so unfair that they have to choose. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“This isn’t about that,” he protests, though he knows he can’t beat you. You’d always had a sharper tongue than him.

You unhook your dagger. He remembers the arch, only yesterday. Is this how you felt? This burning in his chest?

“It is. It all goes back to that prophecy. To fate. To the Fates.”

Your eyes burn with tears as you hold out your dagger for him to take.

He blinks hard. “This is wrong,” he says, voice wavering, and you’ve never seen him like this before. Always tough, always witty. Unserious, sure, but never afraid.

You push it towards him, and he takes it.

“I know.”

Your fingers twitch. You’d hug him, one last time, but you remember how he froze back in St. Louis.

So you don't.

You walk over to the chair, heart pounding. This is a death sentence. This is it. This is it.

“Hey, Percy?”

His head snaps up, lip tugged between his teeth as he holds back tears too.

“Go save your mom,” You say. “Save her, save the bolt, and tell Grover I’m sorry.”

You picture Grover’s face when he finds out what happened to you. You turn away, stand right in front of the throne. It glints in the swimming light.

“And if you have a chance, I don’t know, maybe swing back around here and try to get me out?”

He laughs sadly. “You think you had to ask?”

“Just making sure.”

You sit.

For a moment, nothing happens, and you're worried that you’d said all that for nothing. You’d feel pretty stupid.

And then—

“This is weird,” you say. “It’s warm.”

There’s fear in his eyes and your dagger in his hand.

Something snakes its way up your leg, smooth and fast. It feels like wax, almost, hardening over your skin.

“This is a bad idea,” Percy says, eyes tracking something at your feet. “Stand up.”

You don’t look at what he’s looking at. You don’t want to.

“I can’t.” Panic rises in your chest, fast and unwelcome, and you’d be shaking if you could move.

“y/n—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice hoarse. The words don’t sound right in your mouth. Your legs are completely immobile. Your breath comes in short gasps. “I’m okay. I’m… okay.”

You look at him, trembling and still pretty damp, mouth open like he wants to say something.

Whatever’s seeping onto your face is warm and brittle. You stare hard at his eyes. They’re a shining blue. They’re afraid.

It’s the last thing you see.

a/n: sorry guys cliffhangers make me giggle ‼️ I’ll write another part If u guys would want me to !

[ameagrice]

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-eight | headlock

You sit up so suddenly that your forehead collides with someone else’s. Groaning, your hand on your head, you open your blurry eyes and blink until your vision returns to normal.

The sky is still bright. Someone’s used Percy’s burial shroud as a pillow for you, where it rests on the floor, balled up. Your head hurts, though you can’t be sure if it’s from smacking against someone else’s, or if it’s from passing out.

“Well,” someone chuckles with humour, “that’s one way to wake her up.” They extend a plastic bottle down to you, shaking it impatiently. Clarisse is standing above you, laughing. “Take it, then!”

You’re aware of water dripping down your face, but even more aware of the parched feeling in your throat. You remember you barely managed to get breakfast, never mind a proper drink. If you went and checked your levels now, they would scream dehydrated.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth crouches with concern, laying a hand on your shoulder. “You fell pretty hard.”

“Yeah.” You cough to clear your throat, dancing your eyes around the small group. “I feel…fine…”

He stands at the back, with his hands in his pockets, head ducked awkwardly. There’s Annabeth next to you, Clarisse in front, jabbing jokes (although, that look she’s trying to cover up might be worry), and then there’s him. Percy Jackson. He glows with health, and even looks a couple of inches taller than he did the last time you saw him. That might just be because you’d been cloaked in the dark tunnels though.

“You’re not dead.” You blurt, without thinking. “You’re not dead.”

“Great, right!” Clarisse slaps a hand hard on your aching head. You wince, leaning back. “I’ll grab us some food. You look ashy, and I’m starving after the show.”

Ouch. But food would be nice. You feel your stomach eating itself, and sigh.

“So,” Annabeth breaks the ice. “Percy isn’t…gone after all.“

“I feel like I’m in a bad dream,” you raise your eyebrows and shake your head slowly.

“This is a good thing…isn’t it?” Annabeth nervously looks between you and Percy. “This is…Percy’s breathing! Yay!”

“Where were you?” You ask. “I waited for you.”

“Oooookay,” Annabeth pats your shoulder. “Let’s get up. We can talk about this somewhere more comfortable.”

So you move to the Big House. The whole time, Percy can’t look you in the eye, always focussing on your shoulder, or just staring at his feet. He answers Annabeth only in short words and humming replies. It strikes you as weird because Percy’s a talker.

Inside, Chiron fixes you a glass of water and a snack, and tells you to sit on the couch before you fall over again.

Then the interrogation begins.

“Where have you been?” You demand, swinging your hand around so violently the water in the glass spills over on to the carpet with a thud. “We spent weeks thinking you were ten feet under and then you just show up like, what? Like you’re the guest of honour?”

Leaning on the arm of the chair opposite, Percy crosses and uncrosses his arms, mouth opening and closing when he thinks better of whatever he was about to say. Chiron, the silent observer, clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Percy mumbles, “I got lost.”

You splutter for words, throwing another tip of water on the carpet. Chiron buts in, pushing a mediating hand between the two of you. “Now, now. This is a shock for everybody, I know. Drink your water, dear. You’ve barely woken up.” As if that’s the reason you’re in shock.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just…you’ve been gone for weeks. What happened? You sent me away and then…”

At last, his vibrant eyes meet you. Freckles have come out, dark against his tan skin. Percy’s mouth twists, he looks away almost in guilt. Instantly, your stomach grows heavy, your eyes harden in suspicion.

“I caused the explosion at the mountain,” he starts, “that was my fault. There were too many of them there—monsters, I mean. I blew the place up, and I thought I’d died. But I woke up in the middle of nowhere, my skin was burned up, and everything was hurting. And, well, that was it. The island healed me up, Hephaestus dropped by to see how I was doing, sent me home when he was ready, and here I am.”

You grit your teeth. You don’t move. You don’t blink. Annabeth shifts on the back of the couch, taking the glass from you.

“And where was this ‘oh magical island?’?” You pry. “You Must. Have. An idea. Right?”

“I—I don’t know. I just woke up there. I think Hephaestus sent me there to get better.” Percy avoids you again. Chiron has grown very serious.

You sit forward violently. “Hephaestus who can’t acknowledge his own children, sent you to a magical island to get better,” you emphasise each and every letter, “out of the goodness of his heart—AFTER, might I add! AFTER you blew up his forge?”

Chiron snaps your name angrily. It might be the first time he’s shown any sort of anger towards you that you can remember.

“I know how it sounds,” he raises his hands in a placating manner. “Just hear me out before you go trying to kill me, please. It sounds ridiculous from an outsider’s point of view, but trust me on this. When he came back for me, Hephaestus, he told me that we can get through the maze.”

“Oh, you want to go back down?”

“What did he tell you?” Annabeth sets a hand on your shoulder, cutting you off from saying anything further. “What’s next?”

“Well he sort of told me that I already knew how to get through the maze. At the time I wasn’t sure what he meant. But now I do.”

“So what’s the answer.”

“We need a mortal. We need a mortal’s help for this,” he grimaces at the look on your face. You can’t explain what look it is, though. “Just like Theseus had Ariadne’s help originally.”

“I’m sorry,” you snort. “Are we forgetting whose quest this is? Why are you calling the shots?”

Chiron looked uncomfortable. “Did you have any particular mortal in mind, Percy?”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he laughs lightly. “She’s called Rachel. She lives in New York. A while back I ran into her a couple of times, she has enough Sight to help us with this.”

You see red. “This is my quest. We all understand that don’t we? I was quite literally chosen for this. Why are we giving away this to some random girl in the city?!”

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Chiron manages, “This is your quest. But you need help.”

“Oh, and this random girl is supposed to help?” You flat your hands. “Please! Can’t you see how bizarre this is! It’s wrong! It’s cowardly! It’s—”

“Hard to admit we need a mortal’s help,” Percy cuts in gently, frowning. “But it’s true.”

Falling silent, you drop back into the chair, suddenly tired. Raising your gaze from the carpet, Percy is still looking at you, with a little bit of sorrow in the guilt. He looks away, and Annabeth pats your shoulder.

“Want me to leave you to talk about it?” She says. You can feel yourself falling away very quickly from the current scene, the situation becoming that of background noise, like you’re in a bubble. “I’ll go check on Clarisse?”

“If you could, please, Annabeth…”

So she does. Which leaves yourself, Percy and Chiron to talk things over.

“We can talk later about your—choices, Percy,” Chiron coughs. He addresses you briefly. “But this is your choice, if you should go on with the quest, my dear. Your choice only. As only Percy has returned thus far, I will allow you to choose another person to accompany you the rest of the way, should you choose to go.”

Your head snaps up. The line between your eyebrows appears again, so close to turning permanent. “What?”

The air stills. Chiron side-eyes Percy briefly. “Three people is right for a quest. You first chose Grover and Percy. Since Grover has, circumstantially, chosen to leave for the time being on his own journey to find the god Pan, it is only Percy, and yourself, now,” he says somewhat disagreeably, like even he can’t comprehend how the situation has turned to this.

“Wonderful,” you snap, “that’s—that’s brilliant. Supposed we’ll have to have Rachel Dare’s help then, won’t we?”

‘Three’s a crowd’ sits on your tongue. You don’t have the guts to say it just now. Percy tips his head down, and waves of immaculate hair tumble with the movement. You find yourself transfixed on it, and not in a good way. You don’t need a mirror to understand the firm, and angry look on your face. Something scratches in your stomach, bothering you deeply. On the arm rests, your hands clench at the material. You don’t blink. Don’t even move. What did Chiron say? Something about Percy’s choices. Percy’s choices…

Had he chosen this?

You eye the silver line in his hair. Was this, weeks of torment and starving and hunger for something not edible but emotional all Percy’s choice? Were you but a knock-on effect in the sea that was Percy’s choices? Had he really chosen your sleepless nights and hungry stomach and teary eyes over something he refused to disclose? Without so much as a sorry?

Percy’s choices led you here. They always had, of course. Because now you’re thinking about it, it was Percy who chose to sit next to you in class, to enter your life. It was Percy you were with when you found out you’d only known half a life, the other beginning at Camp. It was Percy who took you out of the equation for his first quest, and Percy who, by Chiron’s choice of words, made a choice that caused him to disappear for weeks on end. He came back, why? Had he come home only because you were the afterthought filling him with guilt? Is that the look in his eyes and on his face? Is it eating him up inside?

Yes, you hope.

You hope it is.

The most awful part of you hopes it is hurting as much as it hurt you to think he was dead and buried somewhere you’d never reach again.

“Let us not burn a hole in Percy’s forehead,” Chiron jokes with mirth and worry, reaching forward to unfurl your fist. “You should get something to eat. The girls will be waiting for you. I have to talk to Percy.”

Not even a sorry, you think, getting to your feet again. He doesn’t look up, not even when you open the door. Not even a sorry.

You don’t find Annabeth or Clarisse. You go back to your cabin, have a total nervous meltdown, cry a lot, and fall asleep in your bed, tired, until nightfall, when the others fall in after dinner. Nobody’s surprised at all to see you curled up in bed, but a few people were nice enough to bring back a good plate of food and a bottle of water.

Sometime around midnight, when everyone is asleep, you climb out of bed and pull on a sweater over your pyjamas, pulling on the hood strings as you step out and close the door silently behind. It’s not a good idea being out after lights out—the harpies go insane, and the creatures in the forest come out with confidence. But there’s something magic in the way their bioluminescence creates pockets of light in the trees, and the sound reminds you of movies. If you look past the potential danger those little creatures possess, it’s really beautiful.

But they’re not what you’re looking for right now.

The lights are out in every cabin but one, whose very essence seems alive now the only inhabitant is home. The light coming through the curtains is warm and dull but there, like the beating heart of the building. At the door, you hesitate. Is it worth talking to Percy? Has he bothered with you? But you’re here now so you may as well.

You knock three times and take a step back, waiting. Percy drops something inside, and before you know it the door opens. He’s still wearing today’s outfit of shorts, t-shirt and jacket, but you don’t feel embarrassed of standing before him in your old pyjamas and Hollister sweater. Percy blinks like a deer in the headlights, his mouth opening and closing but not saying anything.

You inhale deeply. “Imgladyourenotdead!”

He comes back to normalcy. “What?”

Exhaling, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Oh,” he pauses. “Me, too. I mean I’m glad you’re, like, here. Not that I’m not glad I’m not dead. Which I am glad about, but—”

You break out into a smile, which causes Percy to relax. His shoulders grew softer and deflate, and a dopy smile replaces his deer look. He steps back and opens the door wider, inviting you in. You accept his offer.

There are pieces of paper strewn all over the floor by Percy’s crumpled up bed sheets, hanging half off the bed. You can’t quite make out what the papers say, the majority of them balled up or ripped to shreds. A water bottle lays leaking on the floor; that must have been what he’d dropped. Greek letters on one of them, but you’re not close enough to read it. You’d learned in high school that Percy was dyslexic, and never figured it was a big deal. For Percy, coming to Camp and realising his brain was hardwired for Greek and Ancient Greek over English; everything made sense. He still struggled with it at times, but you’d noticed the improvements.

“I’m sorry,” you squeeze out. Apologies have never been easy for you. “About earlier. Being so angry. I was just…shocked. You know, we really thought you were gone forever. Thought I’d have to wait a couple decades to see you again Downstairs.”

Percy hums. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean for, well, all of this. I tried to get back. It was just out of my control.”

You turn from the papers, walking backwards until you sit on Percy’s bed, listening intently. “Where did you go?”

He opens his mouth, but looks away, and pauses. “I don’t know. Some island. Like I said, Hephaestus sent me there. He didn’t explain much to me. I just woke up there. The island healed me.” His words are heavy and meaningful, and you can almost convince yourself he’s telling the truth. But you know he isn’t. You know Percy.

You only nod, slowly, watching him nervously look away.

“You look…” he trails.

“Like a sack��a bones?” You laugh through your nose. When Percy goes to protest you simply shake your head. “It’s not a lie, Percy. I was worried sick. Literally. I didn’t want to believe you were dead.”

Your honesty sends him awkward. Percy’s cheeks flush red, and he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m sorry.” He might be awkward, but he’s honest.

You face forwards, Percy sitting next to you. The bed drips.

“I had the strangest dreams out there.”

“Oh yeah?”

He chuckles quietly. “Yeah. Um—you went missing, and I couldn’t find you at all. It was like you’d been wiped off the earth, or, more like you never even existed. Nobody remembered you. You came home in the end, took a while though. We travelled half the country to find you. More of a nightmare, really…” his words make you feel uneasy.

“Maybe your brain was just reflecting real life. To be thrown on some unknown island alone for weeks like that?” Something peeks out of the pocket in Percy’s shirt. “…had to…mess with your head. What’s that?” You nod to the little sprig.

Percy’s eyes turn to saucers. He coughs, recovering quickly, and raises shaky fingers to pull the tiny plant from the pocket. Its roots are skinny and frail, but the flower they lead to is bright white. The petals are perfectly rounded, five total. They’re dotted with almost see-through circles.

“It’s beautiful,” you reach out to brush your finger on one of its petals. It almost looks like it’s glowing, but with the light from Percy’s nightshade it’s hard to tell. “You found it on the island?”

He swallows hard. “Yeah.” And says no more.

You sit until late into the night and early morning watching the flower glow gently. You see the sky begin to turn orange, signally dawn is coming, and finally retreat to your own cabin for some sleep. For once in what feels like forever, you feel nothing but comfort, slipping under the covers as your cabin turns a warm shade of orange and yellow as the sun comes up, quiet and basking in the knowledge that everyone is, finally, safe.

It’s late afternoon when someone wakes you up. Apparently it was a unanimous decision to leave you alone until time got on. By the time you’re up, dressed and ready for the day to head over to Sally Jackson’s home in Manhattan, it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon. You eat a steady supply of toast and jam, down a cup of apple juice, and take a bottle of water in your bag for the ride.

Chiron waits for Percy and yourself by the camp border. He doesn’t look particularly pleased that you’re both leaving, but you don’t care. There isn’t much to be done about your current situation, so you carry on.

You feel rejuvenated today, almost bouncing in place, waiting for Percy to finish packing his bag on the grass. Is it the good sleep? Or the weight off your shoulders now Percy is home and breathing?

“No detours,” Chiron instructs, pointedly looking at you. You hold up your hands in surrender. “No wandering. I’d like this to be a straightforward journey, today. Too many things have been going wrong; this trip has to be straightforward.”

“That’s us told,” You pipe up, tilting your head.

Percy elbows your leg.

Chiron only smiles, tensely. You get the feeling there’s something they’re not telling you, but let it drop, for now.

Percy’s mom is absolutely ecstatic to see her son again, for obvious reasons. Her cheeks drench with tears as she holds him to her, rocking side to side in place at the front door. As much as Percy will try and hide it, you know his teary look is legit, and not the result of some dust in his eyes. Sally lets him go and steps out of the way, letting you into the apartment. She doesn’t miss you, though you’re not anticipating her considering you as well. She grabs you by the arm when you pass her, and just about suffocates you in her embrace. You’re not going to say no—it’s nice to just be held and loved by a mom. The older girls at camp are a godsend for trials and tribulations you might be facing, and they’re sisterly, but not motherly, so it isn’t quite the same. You could get high on the feeling of being loved on.

Sally Jackson smells like Elizabeth Arden’s green tea perfume, and a mix of something sweet, and laundry powder. The apartment smells strongly of baking, and when you round the hallway to the living room adjoining the kitchen, you see plates upon plates of cookies and cakes.

“Damn, Sally,” you breathe. “You’ve been busy.”

“Mom!” Percy complains. “What are you going to do with all of this!”

“You’re going to eat it!” She instructs with a laugh, wiping her eyes and briskly walking past the two of you. She pushes you both to sit on the couch, and you do without complaint. Sally returns with a plate of chocolate chip, and raisin, cookies in one hand and a plate with two strawberry-frosted cupcakes in the other. She sets them down on the table, and then turns around with a quiet, ‘oh, forget it’ and leans around to squeeze you both into a bear hug. Percy’s cheek presses against yours, boiling hot to the touch, embarrassed. You simply melt against Sally and return her hug, going as far as throwing one arm around her and one around her son.

“I told them you’d be alright,” she muffles into her son’s hair.

“Here I am,” he drones, bored-sounding. You know for a fact it’s all pretend; Percy’s a mom’s boy.

“Tell me everything,” she demands, pulling back. “I want to know every little detail.”

You let Percy tell her what’s happened, having your input only when he forgets certain things, like him tripping over a crack in the tunnels, or nearly falling down a mine shaft that opened up out of nowhere. You had caught him only by the strap of his backpack, before it broke off in your hand.

Sally takes a deep breath in when you’re finished with the stories. She slaps a hand on her knee, blinking. “Well, now I know how the Alcatraz incident happened. But at least you’re safe.”

Percy coughs awkwardly. “Yep! That pretty much covers the whole…thing.”

“I wish Paul were here right now. He wanted to talk to you, Percy, about what happened at the school. He wants to get things straight again.”

“What did you tell him?”

You settle back into the couch with a frosted cupcake, accepting that you have no place in this conversation. You busy yourself with the magazine lying discarded where Sally must have sat before you rang the doorbell. It’s open on pages eleven and twelve: THIS YEAR’S HOTTEST ACTORS. That, you can get with.

“What could I say?” Reasons Sally. “He knows there’s something different about you. But he fully believes you’re a good person. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s willing to try to understand. He has to give the school a reason though—he’s the one who got you admitted there. It’s a little bit difficult, because you ran away after the fire broke out.”

Percy exhales heavily. “I’ll tell him properly after we’ve finished this quest. I want him to know.” Percy, willing to open up to somebody after the horror that was living with Gabe.

“You’d do that?” Says Sally.

Percy shrugs. “Well, yeah, but he’ll think we’re crazy.”

“He thinks that already,” she chuckles.

“Then we have nothing to lose!”

“So, what happens now?”

Silence encases the room for a second or two.

“Percy has a plan,” you blurt, and shovel cupcake in your mouth.

“I’m thinking, if we go off of the old myths and legends, we could use a mortal who has the Sight to help us. I know this girl who was at the school induction day, she might be willing to give us a hand.”

Sally nodded slowly. “It might work. You need her to find a path or something?”

Percy hums. “Exactly that.”

“I think it’ll work. Just be careful, all of you. I know you think you’re invincible—”

Percy groans. “Mom!”

“You think you’re invincible!” She repeats louder. “But you’re only nearly sixteen! You’re still babies, alright? Now, go use the phone in the hall. You’ll be fine for a few minutes.”

Percy went out to use the phone, while Sally launched you into another hug, and then demanded you put your feet up for five minutes and watch the television. The Ellen Degeneres show is playing, and you let yourself get comfortable, listening to Sally humming in the kitchen and Percy’s mumbling on the phone. He enters the room and looks your way straight away.

“Half an hour,” he says, “Rachel’s meeting us in Times Square.”

Sally said goodbye at the door with a thick voice and tears in her eyes, and made the two of you promise to drop by on the weekend. You wished you could swear that yes, you would absolutely come around for more cakes and iced coffee, but unfortunately, the world hated you and all you stood for, even though you were barely sixteen and troubled to hell. Percy’s face shone with not just health but pure happiness from being around his mom; by the time you walked into Times Square, that facial expression turned weary.

“Where are we meeting her?”

You didn’t have to wonder for long. Seconds later, Percy pulled you to stop in front of a living statue group, each member showing in shades of gold, green or silver from head to toe. At first you struggled to understand why on earth Percy thought this display would be cool to look at, and then you realised the display was Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts. “What. A. Loser.”

“Hey!” Hissed Percy, genuinely upset. “Could you stop it! For five minutes?” He snaps.

You blink, stunned. Percy doesn’t get angry at you, like, ever. Have you really been that irritating that he’s snapped at last? You’re annoyed at life recently, struggling like hell to understand if it’s because of hormones, the quest, or your situation. Or all three factors combined. Most likely, that is it. But how do you explain that to Percy, who is not just your best friend suddenly pissed off at you, but he’s a boy, and he’ll never understand that you don’t want Rachel’s help not just because this is your quest, but the fact that it’s Rachel, and you know from a girl’s point of view, how she feels about Percy. You can just tell. And just maybe you’re jealous.

Still, mulling over this, you get even more annoyed at Percy trying to save Rachel’s feelings. A kid walked up from the taxi stand, tucking away half a sandwich in foil into a bag beside the stand the kids stood on together. When he got into position, Rachel dropped hers with a smile so creepy when it was covered in gold.

“Hey, Percy!” She grinned, completely ignoring you. She climbed down from the stand, and swiped her own bag from behind a sign, pulling the straps over her shoulders to go. Was it your comment? She accidentally-on-purpose pushed you aside, linking her arm with Percy’s. Definitely your comment. “Great timing. Let’s get coffee.”

You followed behind the pair on the path among throngs of tourists and people trying to get to work. Since it was Saturday, the place was absolutely buzzing, and if you actually cared about being hit by a car, you’d have been more mindful of the state of the roads. You stop outside a coffee shop labelled JAVA MOOSE, the interior decorated with a large stuffed moose head on the wall above a couple of round tables and tub chairs, with light wood and orange-yellow light fixtures hanging over the tables.

Rachel takes a seat heavily in one of the tub chairs. You follow suite. Nobody seems to care or spare a second look at the girl coloured gold, or that she’s staining the seats with her paint. A barista behind the counter laughs loudly at something a customer points out. You sit opposite Rachel, Percy falling in next to you.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about my art project,” says Rachel. “So, you’re a half-blood too? Like Percy?”

“Announce it to the world, why don’t you?”

Rachel shrugged. “Okay.” She stood up, then, on top of the chair and everything, and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey! Everybody! These two aren’t even human! They’re half Greek god! And they’re sitting waiting for monsters!”

You cringe. “Well, when you put it like that…but sit down, seriously. You can’t just shout things like that.”

“But why not?” Rachel blinks innocently. “It’s New York. Nobody cares.”

“Can we all get along for a few minutes?” Asks Percy, throwing in a placating hand over the table. “Please? Look, Rachel, it’s the same as I told you before on the phone. We need your help navigating the maze. The last few times haven’t gone so great. Which is why we’re here. Asking you for help. You have this thing called Sight, only certain mortals have it and it pretty much enables you to see parts of our world that you wouldn’t without it.”

“You want me to help you get through some maze that I’ve never been down.”

“Yes. You can see through the Mist, like the mortal Ariadne in the old tales. The Labyrinth won’t confuse you as much as it’s been confusing us.”

Rachel took in a deep breath. “And if you’re wrong about this?”

“We’ll be lost. Either way it’s dangerous so it evens out.”

“I could die. That’s what you’re telling me. Dead, dead and deader.”

“I thought you said monsters don’t care about mortals?” She probed. It makes you wonder how much Percy has already told her about your world. “Your sword…”

“Celestial bronze doesn’t harm mortals! And monsters would mostly ignore you. At most they’ll get a hint that you’re a little different but not entirely. You’ll blend in.”

Rachel looked between the two of you, but mostly Percy. “Alright. I’m in.”

“First thing,” Percy winced. “We need your help finding an entrance into the maze. There’s one in camp but it’s off limits to mortals. You wouldn’t even be able to cross the border.”

“What does this entrance look like?”

“Could be anything at all. A boulder. A run-down storefront. Some wall,” you chip in. “It’d have the mark of Daedalus on it. The Greek L. Delta.”

For once, there seemed to be a shared understanding between everyone at the table. Rachel dipped her finger in a puddle of water at the edge of the table and drew the Delta sign out.

“Like this?”

“Like that. You know Greek?”

She hummed as if you’d said something really funny. “Lol. No. Just follow me to the Marriott Hotel. I’ve got to show you something I think you’ll really like.”

“And that is?”

“I think there’s an entrance to the Labyrinth in the basement.”

wowcher, I was gone a while. any thoughts on our characters this chapter?

taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @rottenstyx

@rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

@marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol

@twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky

@emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl

@tojismassivemantiddies @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138

@obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @cxcilla @itzjustj-1000

@sp00kcanwrite @randomesthings @fratbrochrisgf

@prongsflower @bugszi @tired-jaz @mitsuriscannongf @i-love-books-and-the-bible @dusk-reaper

[cerseimikaelson]

In the mythological world, you met two kinds of people.

The heroes.

The people the heroes went to war for.

It wasn’t all shining armors and white stallions. Heroes had a darkness in them too. They loved with bloody hands and violent delights. They walked around with open wounds and sobbed in silence. They let themselves be swallowed by the pain because it drove them, because they used it to keep moving.

Villains weren’t like that. They didn’t want to feel the pain. They wanted it to stop. To make it go away. In the eyes of the heroes, they cheated, but that was only because they didn’t know how to feel it all without dying from it.

Pain had never been their friend. Pain had never been their strength. Because the villains were often the people the heroes didn’t save.

“The Athena cabin already has their hero, Chiron.” Viola reminded him as if he somehow could have forgotten. “I am no Annabeth Chase. I am not virtuous or noble or decent. I don’t follow orders. I don’t submit to fate. I am a rogue, not a soldier. If being a villain is what it takes to make an actual difference, then I am happy to fill the spot.”

Read more on You're on your own kid, on ao3

[imthebadguyyy]

should I venture into the realm of percy jackson fics or...

[notalotgoingonatthisinstant]

Going through my email to get back to answering the comments on my fics and omg u guys, there are currently 126??? I love my corner of fandom 💛 Thank you 💛

[makebelievegrilledcheese]

Which percabeth do you prefer?

[xoxochb]

fuck babe you’re so hot when you’re just ink on paper

[i-have-homework-but-i-still-here]

¿Alguien escucha cuando oro?

El día que nació Perseo el mundo se quedó en silencio Sin que nadie lo notara el mundo aguantó la respiración un segundo Solo la soltaron cuando el bebe lloro Y un terremoto sacudió un país y las mareas se elevaron sin explicación Poseidón, desde su palacio bajo el mar sonrió Su hijo había nacido

---

Percy es enviado al pasado. Extraña a su madre y a su hermana Extraña la vida que pudo tener Extraña la normalidad que le fue arrebatada

Miente.

[ishiwritesstuff]

first thing i wrote oml this was so long ago

I'm Sad and You're My Son

Synopsis:- Even the most powerful Greek Gods feel human emotion...

(A/n:- this is the first fic I'm writing holyy shit, anyways this is for @cybelecavern cuz they responded to my fanfic post so tyyyy <33, it was longer than I intended it to be, but enjoy and lmk how it was!! Also special thank you to @anarchist-title-thoughts for the title!! I really love it <33 [No beta, we die like men.]

Tags- Actual Father!Poseidon, Percy being Percy, Tyson being Tyson

Warnings:- None, just father-sons bonding fluff!!

Preferably play this song and read this...

On most days, Poseidon, in his underwater castle, surrounded by the pride and joy of the sea, the 50 Nereids, one of who was his wife, with his son Triton and his subjects all around him, felt pretty good about where he ended up, but on other days, like today, it seemed.... just sad. Amphitrite barely spared a look at him, and Triton stared hungrily at the throne, so much so that Poseidon was sure that someday his son would throw him into Tartarus and take the throne for himself. The waters seemed dark and murky and he felt like his world was suddenly leached of color.

On this day, he desperately wanted out of the sea, he wanted the city of New York, that never failed to captivate him. How far humans came along from just the flames Prometheus had given them. The buildings, the sheer brilliantness of everything here seem to rival Olympus (almost). He didn't realize where his feet took him. He walked and walked and somehow ended up on the front door of the Jackson's (or Blofis' but Poseidon wasn't really used to that). He hesitated. Was he really supposed to do this? But what exactly was "this" he thought of? He thought for a bit and then realized. He wanted Percy's company. No God in the world had ever wanted to spend bonding time with their demigod kids... why was he even doing this?

As he turned to leave, the door swung open, and there stood Sally, with a really cute baby in her arms. "Come on Paul, we need to get going," she never even seemed to notice Poseidon in front of her. "OH, um, hi," Poseidon said. She then swung around to notice him. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Sally had asked. Paul then emerged out of the house and saw him. "Well, um, I'm actually here for Percy," he said. Sally furrowed her brows. "Is something wrong?" "No, nothing, I uh, wanted his company..." Poseidon's voice trailed and Sally's slowly understood. Her face softened, "Well we were headed out but Percy and Tyson are inside playing Monopoly, you're welcome to come in." she said.

All this was happening while Paul stared at him in awe. He still wasn't used to an ACTUAL Greek God in front of him. Poseidon thanked Sally and attempted to move inside, but the door frame was blocked by Paul. "Excuse me," Poseidon said and Paul swiftly moved aside to give him space.

Inside was a spacious living room and down the corridor, he could hear sounds, "Sounds of someone losing," he thought. He went inside. Percy and Tyson were sprawled on the floor, Percy's back towards him. And yes, he seemed to be losing to Tyson. "No, no NOO!! TYSON UR CHEATING!" "How can I cheat big brother, i- DADDY!!" Tyson screamed when he caught sight of him. Percy whirled around and saw him. God, Percy looked so much like him during the early days of his rule of the sea. "Percy," he said, giving him a curt nod. "Hey Dad," Percy said. Percy looked tired, with a tinge of exasperation on this face. "What's going on Daddy, is everything ok, do you need me to go back to the forgeries, do you-" Tyson drowned on, but Poseidon cut him off. "No, I need nothing of you, or Percy for that matter, I... um just wanted to...um I don't know how to say this... I... wanted to spend time with you.." He let that linger. Percy frowned. He knew Greek Gods rarely wanted to bond with their offsprings, much alone spend some time with them.

"Dad, what's wrong, it's fine I can help, I-" "NO Percy, nothing is wrong!" "Ok fine," Percy definitely thought something was off but decided to not push it anymore. "Then... want some ice cream? There's a really good place that makes AMAZING blue ice cream." Poseidon's face relaxed, just a little bit but it was noticeable enough for both Percy and Tyson. "I have some mortal money, it'll be my treat," Tyson said. Percy looked surprised, as did his father. "How do you have mortal money?" Poseidon asked. Tyson blushed, "well, I asked my boss to pay me in mortal money...so yeah, let's go" Tyson takes Poseidon by the arm and drags him out of Percy's room, and out the front door, all while Percy has a small grin on his face "Today is going to be a fun day". He thought.

.

.

.

.

There will be a part 2 to this as i'm currently a bit busy with school life and this stretched longer than i wanted it to. Tysm <333

[huntingrays]

pjo prompt: percy and jason have to go on a quest together, so they both decide to bring their respective partners (annabeth and leo). during the quest, they get kidnapped by monsters and percy and jason wake up in an arena. the monsters explain that they have their partners and in order to save them, they have to fight to the death, with the winner getting to leave alive with their partner, while the other is killed. however, the monsters are very shocked when percy and jason sit down and start calmly playing cards with each other. they’re not worried about their partners. instead, they’re worried for the monsters. they trapped annabeth and leo together, two of the smartest demigods. the girl who redesigned olympus and the boy who built a warship in six months. they were toast.

[triptuckers]

dawn - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing:  percy jackson x child of apollo!reader Summary:  percy wakes early because of a nightmare and you're not next to him Warnings:  swearing, mentions of nightmares, percy being scared :( Word count:  900 A/N: SHIFTING INTO PERCY JACKSON MODE AGAIN !!! I cannot wait for the show !!! also this is based on a head canon I saw once and now it's my favorite, enjoy!

percy hears you scream again. he needs to find you now.

he's been running for too long now, you've been screaming for too long. he could tell from your screams you had gone from scared to absolutely terrified.

and he knows you've been through as much as he has. it took a lot to make you scared. and something has made you terrified.

percy runs around the corner, gripping his sword tight. up ahead he can see a shadow. that must be you.

he takes off running again but as he gets closer to the shadow, it's not you. it's someone - or something - that is holding two very long, very sharp swords.

percy turns around and bolts through a door. you scream again. and again. he can't get to you. gods, he's going to lose you.

with a start, percy's eyes fly open.

he's breathing heavily and his hands are gripping the bedsheets. percy's chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to calm himself. he reaches out to you, but you're not next to him.

what if it wasn't a nightmare? fuck.

he pushes himself up with one elbow and notices the door to his cabin is slightly open. he can see you sitting just outside.

percy closes his eyes and lets himself fall back onto his pillow. he frowns when they're damp. great, he was sweating. that means it was a really bad one.

'shit.' he sighs, dragging a hand over his face. there's no way he's getting any sleep now. at least not with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

he can tell it's very early in the morning. the sun is starting to rise, but it's still pretty dark outside. percy looks over to you again and notices a mug in your hands, steam rising from it.

after the nightmare he had, he just needs you close. so he gets up and puts on a sweater and boots before joining you outside.

you look up when you hear footsteps on the wooden floor.

'hi. did I wake you?' you say, reaching for percy and pulling him down to squeeze into the chair next to you, careful not to spill your drink.

'no.' his answer is short.

'nightmare?' you ask, noticing the collar of his shirt that sticks to his sweaty neck.

'yeah.' he moves to get closer to you, needing to be near you.

'want to talk about it?' you say, lazily running your fingers through his hair near the back of his neck.

percy sighs softly. 'lately it's the same one.' he says. 'you're somewhere, I don't know where, I can't see you. but I can hear you. you're screaming for help, for me to come get you out of wherever you are. but there's this big guy chasing me and I can never get to you in time.'

he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown the image out.

'it's okay.' you say. 'I'm here now.'

'I know you are. you think I can ask any of the gods if they can stop the nightmares?'

you chuckle softly. 'it's worth a shot.'

'hey, wait. why weren't you next to me when I woke up?' he says, remembering the moment the nightmare shook him awake.

he turns slightly so he can look you in the eye, brows slightly furrowed. 'do you still have nightmares?'

'sometimes.'

'but they didn't wake you tonight?'

'no.'

'wait, so you willingly got up at the ass crack of dawn?'

you smile. 'also no.'

'you're usually up early, though. even on quests when you're exhausted but we need to go on, you're always the first one awake. perks of being apollo's kid?'

this time you laugh softly. 'no, more like downside of being his kid.'

percy frowns again. 'what are you talking about?"

'well, everyone wakes at dawn. look, will's awake as well.' you say, pointing to your cabin in the distance. 'michael is just coming back from getting his coffee. I saw lee as well.'

percy still looks confused. you're tempted to give him some weird reason and have him figure out I fit's real or not. but he might not even believe the truth.

'you know how apollo uses his chariot to ride across the sky to give us the sunrise, right?' you say.

'yeah, you told me about that.' says percy.

'well, when he does that he blasts heavy metal at a frequency only apollo kids can hear. so we can see him in the sky in all his glory.'

'seriously?'

'his words, not mine.'

percy laughs. 'that does sound like apollo, yes.'

'it's nice, tough. waking up before everyone else does. especially the younger kids.'

'hey, next time, wake me up okay?'

'I prefer to let you sleep. that's why I always get up quietly.'

'I know, and I appreciate it. but this is nice, just us.'

'us and all of my cabin.'

'well, yeah, but you're the only apollo kid sleeping in my cabin.' says percy, nudging your shoulder an smiling.

'and it better stay that way.' you say, smiling as well. 'I call dips on the shower.'

you lean in to kiss his cheek and get up, letting percy enjoy the rest of the sunrise on his own.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

sea salt

percy jackson & gn! reader — reader comes back to camp after a long summer away

tw - implied alcoholism (not of reader but of a parent)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Just call it fall. No one calls it autumn.”

The curb digs into the backs of your thighs, shorts not doing much for the growing chill.

“I call it autumn.”

“hm. Weird.”

There’s a girl who lives down the street from you, by the stop sign on the corner. She has eyes like chocolate and ribbons in her hair. Her name is—

“Penny, I don’t get why the leaves here never turn. They go from green to brown. It’s stupid.”

She takes a long, contemplative sip from her juicebox. “Weather ain’t cut out for it. It gets real pretty upstate, though. That’s where you’re going tomorrow, right?”

A beat. Right, the ‘boarding school’ you go to every school year.

“Yeah. Right. The scenery’s beautiful.” Penny takes another loud sip. “Apple?”

“Grape.” She shows you the box as if you needed proof. You wrinkle your nose.

“That’s—"

clang!

“Penny!!!!” Someone screeches. It echoes, bounces around the neighborhood in the fading light.

Her brother rounds the corner, bicycle helmet dangling from one hand, blood dripping down his knees.

“Holy hell,” Penny swears. She stands with an apologetic glance. “Have fun upstate. Send me pictures of the le—"

“Penny!!!”

You laugh. “I will! You better go tend to him. He’s clearly in critical condition.”

She rolls her eyes. “How dire.” But she jogs over to him anyways.

One by one, the streetlights flicker on. There’s a melancholy that comes with the dusk that you can’t shake.

Penny’s left her juicebox.

You start home.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

It feels like you’re suffocating the second you step through the front door.

It’s simple. Get the taxi money from the drawer in the kitchen, go back to your room, stay there until you can leave tomorrow. Just this one thing.

Just this last thing.

The floorboards creak as you walk through the kitchen. There are glass bottles and crumpled cans on the counter. You toss them in the bin and make a mental note to stay away from Dad.

The drawer sticks the first time you pull on it, so you pull again, harder. It scrapes open.

You grab a twenty and some change and concurrently nick yourself on the stapler. Blood wells. You hiss through your teeth.

Dad is in the living room on the couch, knocked out. His breath is sour.

You tiptoe upstairs. Just one more night. Then you can leave again.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The door slams shut behind you.

You shoulder the duffel bag and close the trunk of the car.

“You sure this is where?” The taxi driver is a stern looking lady. Her hair is streaked with gray.

“Yep, I’m sure.”

You’re at the base of the hill.

“Really? Because there’s nothing here.”

“I’m meeting someone here,” you say, attempting a sure smile. “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

She stares at you for a moment, eyes narrowing. “‘Kay.”

The taxi sputters off.

You’ve never understood why they made the entrance to camp so damn steep. This sucks, this sucks, this sucks, muttered with every footfall.

The grass is making your ankles itch.

It’s all worth it when you cross the camp boundary, though. You can feel it, like a shift in the air. You breathe it in, feel the pressure in your chest start to dissipate.

Someone calls your name, excited and breathless. You turn and immediately are sent stumbling back by a blur of orange.

They smell like cut grass and salt. Not like sweaty salt, but like sea salt. It’s nice.

“Hey, Percy.”

He laughs into your shoulder, arms wrapped around your back.

“Hi.”

You let your head rest against his. Gods, you’ve missed this place. You’ve missed him.

Your eyes sting. The orange fabric at his shoulders bunches as you hug him tighter. He rocks back and forth on his feet but lets you cling to him.

You’re the one who pulls away first.

“You okay?” He murmurs.

He could feel the tremble of your fingers when they were laced behind his back.

“Yeah. Why?”

Percy searches for something in your eyes. You’re not sure what though. Maybe an excuse to pry about the watery sheen to them.

He doesn’t pry, though. Instead, he leads you back to the pavilion, hand in hand.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

By the time you’ve settled in, the sun is dipping below the pine trees. Yesterday at this time, you were on the curb with Penny. Now, you sit before a roaring campfire, the gloom of dusk chased away by kids giggling and music playing.

The smoke is sweet smelling. It draws spirals in the sky, dusty gray stark against orange streaks.

You’re somewhere off to the side of the benches. It’s too loud right next to the flames.

Percy’s shoulder is barely brushing yours.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay here for the summer.” His voice is quiet. It dissolves sweetly with the smoke.

“Me too.”

You can feel him turn to look at you, curls ghosting the shell of your ear.

“I missed you.”

You turn to look at him, to really look at him. There’s something sad behind his eyes, but it’s barely there. It flickers in the firelight. Maybe it’s what he saw in yours.

“Me too. It’s good to be back.”

You link your pinky with his and he smiles at you, sickeningly sweet.

It really is good to be back.

The fire roars. You let your head drop to his shoulder. Percy drops his head too, his cheek to your temple.

That night, you text Penny.

hey. you were right; the leaves are really pretty upstate. hope your brother survived. x

[ameagrice]

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-seven | out of the grave, into the woods.

It’s September 9th, and two days have passed since Percy. Chiron tells you to have hope; maybe he escaped before the place went kaboom. You didn’t see a body, so you should keep the hope alive. You viciously respond that no, there wouldn’t be a body if it was blown to a million pieces, would there?

You eat more than you ever have. The week that passed in the maze had been particularly busy, so much so you’d scarcely had time to eat anything proper. It’s nice to stuff your face, sitting with Annabeth in comfortable silence.

Everyone knows. Everybody knows what happened, by September 9th. Chiron holds a small meeting and explains exactly what happened to the others. Some suggest sending searchers down into the maze to continue what you couldn’t, but Chiron declines the suggestion under the excuse that it’s too dangerous as of late. Percy will turn up eventually, he concludes.

“Have faith,” he sighs, looking around the room. His eyes land on you, where you sit with folded arms and bloodshot eyes nestled between Annabeth and Travis.

It’s hard to do when your mother refuses to answer your prayers. You pray every night for Grover and Percy’s safe return, all week, every morning. You beg any god that will listen to just grant you this one thing, and allow Percy to still be breathing. A tense week passes, and at the week mark—September 14th—since you came out of the maze, hope is beginning to wane. You see it in Chiron’s face with every falsely enthusiastic speech, and in your friends. Annabeth helps you to make a new weapon in the armoury, a lean, light sword made of celestial bronze. You’re working on convincing one of the other campers to charm it to make it smaller, taking inspiration from Riptide. Convenience is key.

By September 15th, people have lost hope. A whole week of people trying to come home should have shown some signs, at least. Another week passes, with no such luck. And then a third. You barely move from the Big House, not really feeling much up to participating in activities and practice fights. You’re just getting into reading a new book, scrunched up in the chair on the porch, when Chiron approaches you, with a solemn look on his face.

“Another book?” He tries for a smile. You see right through him, raising your eyes above the line of your book. There seem to be more stress lines under his eyes. “That’s the third this week alone.”

You raise it a little higher. “I like reading. You can get lost in books pretty easy.”

“I like a good read myself,” he admits. “Maybe not three six-hundred-pagers a week, though.”

Now, you do smile. Just a little.

“I didn’t come here just to halt your peace, my dear. I wanted to talk to you about Percy, and Grover.”

Of course. It’s all anybody wants to talk about with you.

You snap shut the book and pay Chiron all your attention. “Okay.”

He eyeballs the ground for a second. “I think it’s time that we begin to build up a burial shroud for Percy, and begin the proceedings for Grover. Three weeks is…it is unlikely for them to come back to us now. A week, a week and a half at most, is the usual waiting time for heroes to return. I’ve seen this many times before, my dear. Three weeks is too long. It’s time we pay our respects to our friends.”

It’s a hard pill to swallow. You feel your heart stammer in the ribcage, tiny shooting pains going haywire. You’ve had these pains all of three weeks—Chiron calls them a reaction to stress, and grief. It’s why he encouraged so much rest, so little training. Your eyes fill with strong tears and your throat thickens.

“Okay,” you manage. A leaded weight pulls your innards down, and something else grinds them together. You feel overcome with hopelessness, a feeling alike deep and terrible sadness, gut-wrenching. You only want to cry until you can’t cry anymore.

“As Percy’s longest friend,” he continues with a hard swallow, “I wanted to ask you personally, if you’d like to create his burial shroud. As an honor to him.”

You want, in that moment, your dad. You want the comfort of a parent, even though you know you won’t get so much as a hug from him. You want home.

You ask Annabeth to help you in making Percy’s burial shroud. A heaviness settles over camp the next day, and everyone you talk to or pass by offers you a sympathetic look, a hand on the shoulder. Together, you pick out sea-green fabric, and tie in some gentle details of deeper greens and little dashes of blue. You find it in yourself to delve bravely into his left-behind cabin, and dig a seashell from the wall beside the statue of his father. It’s a creamy-pale colour, and lined with streaks of red and pale peach, engrained with bits of sand like it had just come directly from the beach. You weave a few into the fabric until your fingers are sore and pricked with blood. It’s all very factual, death and its proceedings. You find yourself zoning out, staring at the soft material in your hands and thinking of absolutely nothing, at times. Annabeth gently says your name, and pulls the needle from your bloody finger. It takes all day to make it perfect, but you finally complete the burial shroud, and tie it off with a pretty bit of creme ribbon and sea rope.

For Grover, it’s different, and Annabeth carries this one forward better than you because she’d known him for a long time, a hell of a lot longer than you knew Grover. She sits down on the sofa, and almost tears the earthy-green and gold fabric with how forcefully she grips it. Annabeth acts normally, but her lip trembles. She presses them together to stop it, reaching out to the table between you both for the needle.

By evening, just as the sun is going down and the sky is burning orange, you’re finished with Percy’s shroud, and Annabeth is finished with Grover’s. They’re not due to be burned until tomorrow evening, but Chiron said it was in everybody’s best interests to finish them sooner rather than later. It would make the process of burning them a lot easier to handle, apparently. You’re but a second away from blowing up, taking action with screaming and hacking at the strawberry fields; so, anything to lighten the situation, really.

“We should really get some food before curfew,” Annabeth set aside Grover’s shroud. “C’mon. They’ll be looking for us if we don’t turn up, and you know what Travis has been like, worrying this week.”

You huff a short laugh. “Guy hasn’t stopped.”

It was true. He’d been so attentive to your every want and thought that you felt somewhat guilty for dropping him the way you had done to accompany Percy into the maze. You felt like such a terrible friend, recently. But if Travis was holding it against you, he didn’t show it a bit. Ever the selfless.

Your stomach growls painfully, prompting you to stand and hold Percy’s shroud for another second or so, before dropping it safely next to Grover’s. The silky material slips from your fingers and hits the table carefully. The clock above the door tells you it’s nearly seven o’clock at night, and you haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast.

Annabeth is long gone by the time you force yourself to leave the room. You can see her in the distance, walking to the dining pavilion. You stop against a wall, breathing deeply and exhaling heavily, just taking in the air. It smells of pine trees and strawberries, and something warm. The sky is burnt orange and lined with golden clouds. An otherwise perfect evening, if you weren’t hearing Grover’s voice in the back of your mind.

He’s shouting your name, so distantly it feels like he isn’t even there at all. You wish you could help him. His voice grows louder, and closer. You begin up the hill just as you hear breathing—hard, heaving breathing like the person it’s coming from has ran a marathon.

You spin, somewhat startled, and your jaw drops so hard you think it might have landed in Tartarus. “G—GROVER?!” He’s really here. Really! With sweaty hair, missing a sleeve of his jacket, but he’s here in person. Grover is alive. “Holy cows. Holy cows. Holy cows—”

“I did pray to some holy cows, actually,” he nods out of breath. Grover puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head back. The sun is setting very quickly, and really it’s nothing special tonight compared to every other night, but to Grover, it must be amazing.

All the breath he gets back in his lungs is swiftly knocked right back out again. You lunge for him, the relief falling like a heaviness from your shoulders. Grover is a little bonier under your hugging arms than the last time you were together, but he’s in one piece and here in front of you, and it’s more than you could ask for given the circumstances.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you breathe. With your heart beating ten-to-the-dozen, it’s difficult to discern whether you’re about to have a heart attack, or if you’re developing some sort of condition from all the scares. “Really. It’s good to see you.”

He’s shocked. Of course he is; you’ve barely shown even camaraderie towards Grover before. You think it might be time to change your tune.

“I wasn’t sure you’d gotten out,” he sighed, pulling back. “I’m so sorry for leaving the two of you, but look—I found him. I really did. I found Pan.”

You blanch. Not solely from his insinuation that both you and Percy got out, but that he found what he’d been looking for. You can’t help smiling.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent!”

“We should go tell Chiron, then.”

Heaviness settles in your gut the closer you get to the dining pavilion. You figured that’s where Chiron will be—eating like nothing’s wrong. You haven’t eaten properly in days.

Everybody is seated by the time you arrive. Chiron is, as you’d guessed, at the table and eating as well. It must be the movement from the corner of his eye that turns his head to face you, and it’s a result: he sees Grover; tired, drooping-at-the-shoulders Grover. Chiron stands so abruptly that the table shrieks, the legs scraping against the floor, and campers groan and cover their ears, turning to face the commotion. They follow the leader’s direction, and see him too. The sky is burning, the clouds on fire, and fire in the heart flickers.

A great deal of clamour comes next. It’s all very factual, in the after. They yell Grover’s name and people come running, some in relief, some in disbelief, and some in excitement.

He eats his heart out at the head table, and nobody bothers him. You sit together and for a little while you laugh. Annabeth smiles so hard her cheeks must hurt, and the three of you manage to relieve the last few days and weeks with some joy, especially now Grover has found what he’d been looking for.

It doesnt change the fact that you go to bed with a heavy heart and a sorrowful stomach, and don’t get a wink of good sleep, tossing and turning until the cows come home. When morning comes, you’re sore-eyed and sore of heart, dressing in jeans and a sweatshirt despite the warmth of camp itself. On a day where all eyes will be on you, it’s comforting to feel somewhat sheltered by sleeves and neckline.

You don’t eat breakfast, though your stomach grumbles and whines, and you can barely manage to get a glass of apple juice down. People are casting you looks from every table, because they all know what you’re about to do. After all, his burial shroud is only metres away, folded neatly in a small box before the open fire pit.

Finally, after breakfast of little words to anybody, Chiron smiles somewhat skewedly and directs everyone to crowd at the pit. A few girls from the Aphrodite cabin are crying crocodile tears, pretending they’re oh-so-sad over the loss of Percy, though they haven’t spoken to him before, or if they have—only to ridicule him for tripping during track, or letting an arrow fly too early. Silly little things really, that make Percy, Percy. And you miss him.

You barely notice that Chiron is speaking until he’s finished. The soft blue is in your hands, palms up to the sky. You hope they’re watching.

It smells of smoke that will stick to your hair and clothes, of flames that burn your hands even this far out. Orange, yellow, and wicked red all dancing together in the grate like it’s a terrible little party just for Percy.

You have to clear your throat out hard, it having been in disuse since yesterday. Sets of eyes are on you, big and waiting. A few Aphrodite girls are pulling sneering expressions, because they’re not fans of other girls being the centre of attention.

“Uh—well,” you start, wondering why on earth you hadn’t prepared something earlier. There’s a hard lump in your throat, rolling around and around and around and you think you might choke on it. “Percy was my best friend. He meant a lot to all of us, a great deal, actually. I can’t think of one moment where Percy…”

And suddenly you can’t think at all. There’s pressure behind your eyes burning away like the fire in the grate. Your stomach hurts because you’re so hungry you’re starving. The brain fog because of this is alarming, and you can feel the casual facade start to falter. Why can’t you find the words.

You cough a jarring laugh. Annabeth whispers your name from just the front row, moving to get in your line of vision, concerned. She’s upset but she’s holding it together much better than you are.

The blue in your hands is beginning to absorb the sweat from your skin. “Percy was…there are no words. I think his actions said more, anyway, if I’m honest. Truth be told,” you finally look up from your shaking hands, “truth be told, those of us who knew Percy properly already knew that. Percy was just—”

When you lift your eyes just behind the crowd, you begin to notice something strange. A figure. A boy, in immaculate clothing and tanned like he’d just spent a week at the beach. His shirt is ironed and crisp, and a thin circle of white shells is clasped around a wrist.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Annabeth urges. Her voice shakes when she carefully pulls you aside. “You don’t have to do this. It isn’t fair.”

But your eyes are stuck glued to the boy getting closer, so close that you can make out the green of the eyes you’d recognise absolutely anywhere.

“He’s right there.”

“I know, it’s fine, I can take this.”

She attempts to pry the material from you, but you’re not having it. Clenched in your fists, you nod to the distance, as the lightheaded feeling grows.

“Percy’s here. Percy’s here.”

Heads turn. Bodies shift. Chiron moves through the crowd and pales considerably because he sees what you see. At last, people gasp, people yell out, people rush forward to surround him. But he only has eyes for you, and they’re glossy ones at that.

Your head spins. “Dear god, I think I need to sit down.”

And indeed, down you go.

—

This chapter’s title is taken from the song ‘the let go’ by Elle King. https://youtu.be/RcnUJTIyjXs?si=HO1lzccJfsaF6SbQ (1.18 seconds)

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @tojismassivemantiddies @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @cxcillia @itzjustj-1000 @sp00kcanwrite @randomesthings @fratbrochrisgf @prongsflower @bugszi

[cerseimikaelson]

Soo, I have 14k of an Apollo/OC fic I never actually finished, should I take a leap and post? Here are some glimpses:

"She’d better not make me lose my money or else."

"Damn it. Artemis is going to be pissed."

"Even your son acknowledges the ingenuity of Odysseus."

"You should kneel."

"We are at Camp. Do not blow up Camp."

"I can’t believe I am saying this, but I almost fucking died."

"Did you just quote Game of Thrones to me?"

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

percy, aged 15: ....annabeth.....is sitting.....right next to me 😧 illegal😳😳 but.... i like it🤭??

percy, aged 16: OHMYGOD 😱😱 ANNABETH WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM 🤯 ????😨 MOM PICK ME UP I SMELL SCANDALOUS😳😳 IM NOT EVEN LOOKING GOOD EITHER😭😭😭 lord forgive ME😭........yeah im having fun 😁

percy, aged 17: *sound of lock breaking at 3am*.......hey girlfriend✌️ yeah no worries come in 🥱 next time, knock maybe? ill open the window for you myself, just dont wake me up....yep ly👍.......k this is slightly annoying by now but i still love it 🥰