#percy jackson hurt comfort

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 the moment i knew : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

y/n keeps pouring her heart into her relationship with percy, only to end up feeling like he doesn’t give back the same effort

author: this is just a mix of every depressing song i've been hearing for the past days, so i'll just apologize in advance.

Dating Percy Jackson was hard, she always knew it would be. But it couldn't be impossible, not if they loved each other enough to fight for each other everytime. That's what she thought.

And oh- she should've known better, she should've noticed the change. the signs were there. And maybe, she had realized, but she just loved him that she just chose to ignore it. time and time again. ignore the way he was always late, ignore how she was always the one planning dates and him just going along with anything, ignore how he never seemed to pay attention when she was talking.

Ignore how he made her feel like she was just another thing to check off his list of responsabilities.

At first, she just dismissed it because she thought it was him being too overwhelmed with every resposability he was bearing with at camp. She was sure that he just had too much on his plate, but once he was able, he would make time for her and go back to what he used to be.

She still remembered how loving and caring he used to be, because a small part of her still had some hope of him going back to that. It wouldn't be hard, because he loved her, right?

He loved her. He used to bring her flowers, and surprise her with picnics. He used to remember everything about her, her favorite books and her favorite songs by heart. He loved cuddling with her on cold days, and walking down the beach on sunny days.

Now, it felt like that part of him was slowly slipping away and she couldn't do anything but just stand there, waiting for the crash that was bound to happen.

And it was getting harder to ignore everytime she made an effort, only to be met with disappointment.

Sitting at a table at night, tugging on her dress and slightly shivering from being cold. But she didn’t care about it, she was too distracted looking at the candles she’d painstakingly arranged, their warm glow casting long shadows across the lonely table. The food was cold now, untouched.

She'd planned this for weeks, choosing the perfect spot and decoration, being overly excited to have a moment to just be percy and y/n, just two people who loved each other. And he had promised that he'd be there.

"y/n?" a familiar voice broke her from her thoughts.

She looked up, a small flicker of hope blooming in her chest, but it quickly faded when she saw Grover instead of Percy.

And he looked uncomfortable, clearly dreading that he had to be the bearer of bad news. y/n knew what was coming before he even spoke. "he's with Chiron, there's some issues with the new campers." he said hesitantly. "but he said he'd come here as soon as he can!"

She forced a smile, waving him off. “It’s okay, Grover. Thanks for letting me know.”

As Grover left, her smile dropped. She stared down at the now-cold plate in front of her, her appetite gone. She leaned and blew the candles, knowing that there was no reason to wait for Percy.

She understood it, really. Percy was busy. Percy was important. Percy was needed. But for one more time, she just wished that he could see that she also needed him.

When he saw her the next day, he didn’t bring it up, so she acted like everything was okay. She just couldn't bring herself to waste the time she had with him for a meaningless fight, so she just enjoyed his company, thinking that he was enjoying hers as well.

She was laying on his bed, he was sitting with his back against the headboard, his hand going through her hair in a soothing manner while she spoke excited. "it's so fascinating, Percy! the way the author describes the characters. And there's this one quote 'even the strongest love can wilt without care' and it made me think that relationships-"

She trailed off when she realized Percy wasn't looking at her. His eyes were fixed on Riptide, he was holding the pen between the fingers of his free hand, and he didn’t even look like he he was paying attention.

Her heart sank, and she fell silent, the excitement draining out of her. She waited a moment, hoping he’d realize that she had stopped talking, but he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded absently and muttered "That’s nice."

y/n forced a smile, once again trying to ignore the sting. She couldn't bring herself to blame him, maybe he was tired or maybe he had too much to think about. Either way, she didn’t keep on talking as she silently went back to her book.

Later that day, the book came again into the conversation, but not because she brought it up. He was helping her carry some things to her cabin when his gaze fell on the book of his hands. "Hey, you didn’t tell me you were reading a new book."

Suddenly, the book felt too heavy, pressing uncomfortably against her arms. "I did tell you." she replied quietly, trying hard to hide her disappointment.

Percy furrowed his brow. "You did? Huh. I must’ve... I don’t know, I guess I forgot." He gave a sheepish laugh, as if that would lighten the moment.

She lowered her gaze to the ground, her chest tightening. How could she mean so little to him that he couldn't even remember something she had told him hours ago?

And she still didn’t say anything about it, because she felt like it was stupid to even bring it up. Maybe she was overreacting and she didn’t want to make Percy feel guilty about it.

Sometimes, she saw glimpses of the old Percy back. When he sneaked on her bed after a long day just to rest with her because he missed her, when he kissed her goodbye once he was called over to help with something, when he hugged and lifted her up when he was happy or when he asked her questions about something she was excited.

They were okay. She had been sure they were okay.

Now she was spending the night of her birthday sitting by herself on the strawberry fields, the faint scent of fresh berries filling the air. She picked at the grass absentmindedly, the weight in her chest growing as she, once again, let her thoughts wander back to him.

She was suddenly brought back to his birthday, months ago she had spent weeks planning Percy's birthday. She had made sure she had the perfect gift, she baked his favorite cupcakes and organized a surprise party with his friends.

And when Percy walked into the pavillion, his smile made it worth it. The whole night, he stayed by her side, holding her close, stealing kisses, sharing stories with her and making sure to thank her every moment he could.

She had been so excited for her birthday. She loved birthdays. And now, here she was. Alone. Forgotten. Realizing just how wrong she had been by thinking that everything was okay.

Percy had only stopped by her cabin in the morning to hand her a gift and apologize. "Sorry, I couldn’t do much. Chiron needs me to lead a meeting about patrol schedules." Then, after a quick kiss on her forehead, he was gone.

He didn’t even wait for her to open the small box, but it was good he didn’t, because he would've seen the disappointment on her face when she opened the small box and found a bracelet. It was pretty, sure, but not her style at all. There wasn't even a birthday card inside.

Now the bracelet pressed uncomfortably against her skin as she stared at it with tears gathering on her eyes, waiting for him to show up. He would show up, right?

But he didn’t. He didn’t surprise her. He didn’t show up. And she stayed there, sitting by the fields with her heart feeling heavy in her chest because that was the moment she knew.

She had fought for him, everyday she had fought for even a tiny bit of his attention. For so long, she had convinced herself that the glimpses of the old Percy were enough to keep her happy. But she couldn't keep doing that. She couldn't keep on being the only one fighting for a relationship that wasn't working. She was tired. And he didn’t even see it.

Her mind replayed the happy moments of their relationship, each memory tinged with a growing sadness. She thought about the way he used to look at her like she was his entire world and how now, his gaze rarely lingered. The way he used to laugh with her, hold her hand, and remember the little things: her favorite flower, her favorite song, her favorite way to spend a lazy afternoon.

All of that gone.

What had she done wrong? why had he stopped loving her? wasn't she deserving of the same love she gave to him?

Tears streamed silently down her face as the truth settled in her chest like a weight she couldn’t lift. He had lost her, and the worst part was that she wasn't even sure that he would care about it.

The next day, she was just grateful enough that it was time for campers to go back to their houses for the school year. She had already packed her stuff, and the only thing left to do was the one she was dreading the most.

When she slipped into Percy's cabin, he wasn't there. Of course he wasn't, he was probably busy somewhere around camp. It was better this way, she tried to convince herself once she placed the letter on his pillow before she left.

Percy's morning had been filled with things he needed to finish before he had to leave. When he finally had a moment for himself, he went directly to his cabin because he had to pack his things and then go help y/n with her bags.

But what he found when he was packing his things was a letter placed neatly on his pillow, at first he thought maybe it was some cheesy way for y/n to say goodbye. But once he opened it and finally read it, his whole world stopped for just a moment before he was bolting out of the door.

He was able to find her just as she was leaving her cabin, her bags on her hand. She stopped right on her tracks once her eyes fell on him, and that dreadful feeling settled once again in her stomach. She had hoped that she would avoid this, but one small part of her already knew this was coming.

Percy stopped in front of her, the letter crumbled in his hand. "You were just break up with me through a letter and leave?” he asked, his voice breaking. "you weren’t even going to say anything to me?"

y/n dropped her bags only to cross her arms protectively against her chest. "to be fair, I didn’t think you'd notice if I left." she replied softly, her words laced with quiet pain.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but he wasn't able to find the words. "That's not fair."

"you know what isn't fair, Percy?" she replied, her voice weak. "I have spent months giving you my every moment, hoping for at least some kind of love back, and every single time, you've shown me that i'm not a priority in your life. That's what's not fair."

Percy opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "I've made you my world, Percy, Do you even realize how much I’ve waited and hoped that you’d start putting even a fraction of the effort I have into this relationship? just for you to show again and again that you don't care."

"Of course I care!" Percy replied, desperation laced on his voice. "I love you, how could I not care? i've always loved you"

She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "Loving someone isn't always enough Percy, maybe you do love me." she had to pause to take a deep breath. "but that doesn’t mean I feel loved by you. I need someone who’s going to show up for me, who’s going to fight for me the way I’ve been fighting for you. And you've already shown me that you can't be that person"

"I can!" He insisted, taking a step closer. "We'll work on it, I know I can, just don't go before we can fix this, please."

y/n wanted to believe he could change, she wanted to go back to being that girl who ignored his indifference and lived happy everytime she got a tiny bit of attention. She was so close to just falling into his arms once again, but then she thought back on having to spend her birthday alone, crying, wondering why he couldn't love her the right way. And she couldn't just go back to that.

She stared at him, feeling how her heart broke all over again. "It's too late, Percy. I can't fight for you anymore, i'm exhausted"

"Please" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Goodbye, Percy." she mumbled taking her bags again to finally walk away from him, her heart feeling heavy in her chest.

It hurt. But she knew she couldn't keep on begging just to end up being a footnote in the story of his life.

[demigods-posts]

thinking of percy going to school as a small child. learning that some of his peers talk to deceased family members in their heads to cope with grief. and deciding to take the time each night to talk to his father. telling him a funny story of how mom laughed so hard, milk came out of her nose. of how he got a near perfect score on his third grade spelling test. of each time he got expelled from school and how much he knew it made mom sad. of how his stepfather is the meanest bully he's ever met. of how he wished the two of them had more time together so they could share s'mores and stories around the campfire. of how much he grieves the father he never had. and thinking of poseidon sitting in his throne atop olympus. tears threatening to fall at the sound of his son's voice. mirroring the grief of a child he never got to raise.

[mediumgayitalian]

“What are your parameters for loving me?”

Careful to keep her head locked forward, Naomi glances over at her son. Will’s picked-bloody fingernails scrabble at the worn bandage around his wrist, twisting until his knuckles turn white. The car shakes with his violently bouncing leg, out of time with the shuddering engine and rumbling dust roads under the wheels.

“There aren’t any.”

“There have to be — some.” The bandage is longer than she thought, unspooled in his lap. He winds it back up again quickly, hands blurring; darting around his wrist, tapping on his knees, flexing and locking, flexing and locking. “I mean, what if I became a misogynist?”

She snorts. “I think you’re good, honey.”

“No, Mom, what if? Think about it for real. You’d stop loving me, right?”

“I might knock you around a bit, but it’d pretty hard to stop loving you completely,” she teases. She pinches the stubbornly-clinging baby fat of his cheeks between her knuckles, ruffling his hair when he ducks away.

“Seriously, Mama.”

“I dunno, Will. I’d send you to work for your Auntie Di for a while, probably. Reckon she’d straighten you out good.”

“Okay.” He nods, twice to himself, chewing on his lip. The bandage is wrapped around his elbow, now, pulled tight enough that she can hear the groan of his joints. “Okay. What if I killed someone?”

“Be a pretty hefty secret for the two of us.”

“An innocent person. Cold blood, just because I wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could, Mom. People are — unpredictable.” He picks at a hole in his shorts until it’s wide enough to slide three fingers through, pulling the bandage in after them. It looks yellowed next to the green of the fabric, worn. “Sometimes you think you know someone but you don’t.”

“I know you.”

She pushes on her turn signal, slowing to a near stop. Will’s twitching fingers unconsciously synch up, cri-tap, cri-tap, cri-tap. The rusted rims groan as her tires amble around the bend, quieting as she lurches forward. They both duck as she hits a pothole, narrowly avoiding the warped ceiling.

“Cold blood, Mama.”

“I’d — it would scare me, I guess.” The next few potholes are smaller — she can avoid them with some manoeuvring. A mouse darts out onto the road, rushing out from the surrounding cornfields, and she slams on the break, thrusting her arm out to the passenger side. Will’s hands come to cup over her forearm as he slams into it, grunting softly. The mouse sprints across the rest of the road, tail swishing behind it, disappearing into the stalks. She settles back into her seat, brushing across Will’s seatbelt as she does, and presses the gas again. “More for you than of you. For what would happen if someone came knocking.”

“You wouldn’t report it?”

“No I wouldn’t report it, Will, Jesus.”

“But I — but I did something evil.”

“This is a hypothetical, baby.”

“And in the hypothetical. You’re —” He scrubs his hand down his face, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re a good person. You have — morals.”

“I’m a person, Will.” The GPS beeps at her — twenty-five miles to the Tennessee border. “And I’m a mother before that.”

“So if I — you would just — just like that? You’d — forgive me?”

“I’d love you,” she corrects.

“But you wouldn’t forgive me.”

She shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“So how do you know you’d still love me?”

“Because there’s nothing you could do, baby. I mean it.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Not even if I was a bully? Or a landlord? Or if I — liked boys?”

He says it quickly, or tries to, but he stumbles over his words, tripping over the syllables. Naomi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it hard.

“You would still love me, if I — if I —”

Keeping her movements steady, she removes her boot from the gas. Will glances, fast, at her tightening knuckles on the steering wheel, looking quickly away. She guides the car to the shoulder of the road, pulling into park, and kills the engine, unclipping her seatbelt and turning ninety degrees to face her son. Will crowds into the corner of the seat, hunching in on himself, shoulders tense and curling, hair failing over her lowered head.

“Oh, Will.”

His body shakes as she pulls him into her, hands trembling so bad they spasm, twitching out of the fists he makes. She shifts until both of her arms wrap tightly around her torso, ignoring the burn of the trench, tucking his forehead into her collarbone, dropping her lips to press against his temples, his cheeks, the crown of his head.

“It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s — not. I’m still, I can still —”

“Sh.” His tears drip onto her shirt, her skin. He chokes back a sob and she tightens, reflexively, pulling his whole body even closer to her, somehow, making space for his too-long legs, knees hitting his chest, feet dangling off the seat, gearshift shoved into his thigh. His chest heaves with the effort of keeping his cries locked up in his throat, hidden behind clenched teeth, squeezed shut eyes. His fingers cling onto her shirt, twisting the fabric so hard it warps. Her own fingers clutch desperately at the ridges of his spine, the inside of his elbow; squeezing, holding, bruising. His voice is rough as raw grit and reedy as pond scum, barely above a whisper.

“I like boys, Mama.”

“I heard you.” She rests her forehead on his shoulder, her own breaths shuddering. “I heard you, sweetheart.”

“I like — a boy.”

“Okay.”

“For a long time.”

Her swallow constricts her throat, shoving the air back in her lungs. How long, she cannot bring herself to ask — when was it, exactly, that he decided he could not trust her with this? When did she lose that privilege? Was it when he started protecting her from the pain in his life, or before? When he lost everyone close to him at once, or when he broke down and told her about it? When was she no longer the person he ran to when he was scared, nervous, afraid?

He used to come to her for everything.

“I love you,” she whispers, voice wet as it slides against the lump in her throat. She squeezes him again, and this time, he squeezes back, pressing his face into her skin. “Will Solace, you are what keeps me going, do you understand that? Come up here, baby, look at me.”

His eyes aren’t hers. He takes after his father, really; after his older brother once upon a time. But he speaks like she does and smiles like she does and stands like she does, and when he cries he gets that same look, like the ocean has emptied itself inside of him. She cradles both palms to his wet cheeks, thumbs pressing under his eyes, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

“Fifteen years long you’ve been the light of my life. I need you to understand that, Will. I have never loved anything like I love you and there will never be anyone who comes even close. There is no hypothetical, no situation, no anything that could change that. There are no parameters. None. You understand me?”

“Everything stops,” he croaks. “Everything has a limit.”

“Not me,” she says firmly. “You ain’t a baby no more, baby, but you’re gonna have to pretend for a moment that I know everything again. I am telling you that there is no boundary. And I am not giving you the option to disagree. You are my son and my sun and that’s final, Will. That’s final.”

His face crumples. She pulls him close again, sighing, letting him curl up in his lap like he’s ten years younger than he should be, instead of the ten years older he acts. She runs a hand through his knotted hair and another down his back and presses her lips to his temples, holding him every place she can reach, and rocks them, even though there’s no room to do it, humming slow and low under her breath.

“We’ll get there,” she promises, tapping a beat on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Okay?”

He nods into her neck. “Okay.” His voice is small but not cowering, thankfully; small like he’s hiding in her instead of from her. She fights the urge to sag into him, to burst into tears of her own.

“I love you, Will. No matter what and forever.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

[unpublishediary]

Why didn’t you tell me?percy jackson x injured reader. (hurt/comfort) Part 2

part one ✵ part two

✵ synopsis: after a fight on the Argo II, reader tries to hide their injury but Percy is determined to find out what’s wrong… he figures it out, but hopes he wasn’t too late

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

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

MASTERLIST

Consciousness returned like a gentle tide, bringing with it the soft rhythm of nearby breathing. Your eyelids felt leaden, and when you finally managed to pry them open, the infirmary's muted light was a blessing to your sensitive eyes.

Percy was there, but not how you expected. He wasn't slumped in sleep or pacing with worry, he was just... staring. Sitting perfectly still in the chair beside your bed, his sea-green eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

His jaw was set, hands clasped so tightly together his knuckles had gone white, and you couldn't read his expression. You'd never seen him like this before, caught between anger and something else, something raw and vulnerable that made your heart twist.

When you tried to shift position, a deep ache flared through your side. His eyes tracked the movement, and something in him finally broke.

"Six hours," he said, voice low and rough. "You were out for six hours."

You tried to speak, but your throat was too dry. Without breaking his stare, he reached for the water glass, helping you take small sips. The gentleness of his movements contrasted sharply with the storm brewing in his eyes.

"Percy—" you started.

"No." The glass clicked against the side table. "You don't get to—" He stood abruptly, running both hands through his hair. "Do you have any idea what—" He cut himself off, turning away, then whirling back. "You were bleeding out. Right in front of me. And you didn't say anything."

The last words came out as a shout, echoing off the infirmary walls. You flinched, and instantly saw regret flash across his face.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I didn't want to—"

"To what? Trust me?" His voice cracked on the words. "To let me help you? Gods, when you collapsed, I thought—" He broke off again, dropping heavily back into the chair. All the anger seemed to drain out of him at once, leaving something much more fragile in its wake.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he said quietly, not meeting your eyes now. "And the worst part was knowing you didn't even think you could tell me. After everything we've..."

The silence stretched between you, heavy with things unsaid. When he finally looked up, the vulnerability in his expression took your breath away.

"I can't lose you," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "Not like that. Not ever." His hand found yours, tentative at first, then holding on like an anchor. "Next time you're hurt, you tell me. I don't care if it's a paper cut or a broken bone. Promise me."

You nodded, throat tight with emotion. "I promise."

Some of the tension finally eased from his shoulders. He didn't let go of your hand, his thumb tracing absent patterns against your skin. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, letting the quiet wash away the last echoes of anger and fear.

"Annabeth going to kill me for yelling in here," Percy finally said, a ghost of his usual smile returning.

"Probably," you agreed, feeling your own lips curve upward. "Worth it though?"

His expression softened as he looked at you, and that something deeper was back in his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Worth it."

As exhaustion started pulling you back under, you felt him shift closer, his free hand brushing hair from your forehead with impossible gentleness. The last thing you heard before sleep took you was his whispered, "I'll be right here. I promise."

The next two days in the infirmary blurred together, marked by the steady stream of visitors and Percy's constant presence. He'd only leave when someone else insisted, and even then he'd return looking like he'd barely slept, dropping back into his chair like it was the only place he wanted to be.

"You know," you said one afternoon, watching him fight to keep his eyes open, "your room probably has a more comfortable bed than that chair."

"I'm fine," he insisted, though he was practically slumped over the armrest. "Annie said you might be able to try walking today."

As if summoned, she appeared in the doorway. "Speaking of which." Annabeth crossed her arms, giving Percy a pointed look. "You're not going to be much help if you pass out from exhaustion."

"I don't pass out," Percy protested, but she was already shooing him toward the door.

"Go. Shower. Sleep. She'll still be here when you get back."

Percy hesitated at the doorway, giving you a look as you laughed at the exchange. "I promise not to do anything stupid while you're gone."

"Better not," he said softly, something warm in his eyes before he finally left.

Annabeth checked your bandages, nodding with satisfaction. "Walking should be much less painful now."

The first attempt at walking wasn't exactly graceful. Your legs felt like jelly after hours on hours in bed, and the stitches pulled uncomfortably. But Annabeth was patient, letting you lean on her as you made your way slowly across the room.

You'd barely made it halfway when familiar voices drifted in from outside.

"If you're going to hover, you might as well come in," she called out, amused.

Jason was the first through the door, followed by Leo, their faces lit up seeing you on your feet.

"Look who's vertical," Leo joked at the sight of you.

"Barely," you admitted, grateful for Annabeth’s support as your legs trembled. Jason immediately took that as his cue to support your other side.

"Baby steps," Leo said as you gave him a look, but Annabeth cut in,

“Let’s get you back to—”

"I've got her." Percy was suddenly there, like he'd materialized from thin air. His arm slipped around your waist, careful to avoid your injury as he took your weight from her. "I thought you were going to sleep," you murmured as he helped you back to bed.

"Tried. Couldn't." His voice was low enough that only you could hear. "Kept thinking..."

He didn't finish the thought, but his arm tightened slightly around you.

"Well, now that the gang's all here," Leo said once you were settled, pulling something from his bag, "movie night?"

"In the infirmary?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Come on," Percy sided with Leo. "She's been staring at these walls for days. And we'll keep it quiet." He looked toward the daughter of Athena.

Annabeth sighed the sigh of someone who knew not to fight it, "Fine.”

Once the others were gathered, everyone settled in around your bed. Including Leo perched at the foot with his laptop, Annabeth claiming the extra chair, and Percy back in his usual spot beside you. As the familiar opening credits rolled, you felt some of the lingering tension finally ease from your shoulders.

"Hey," Percy whispered, his hand weaving through you hair before finding hand in what had become a familiar gesture. "You good?"

You looked around at your friends, your family really, and squeezed his hand. "Yeah. I'm good."

His answering smile was soft, private, meant just for you. And as everyone argued about plot holes and character arcs, you realized that maybe getting hurt hadn't been the worst thing.

Sometimes it took falling apart to understand just how many people were there to help put you back together.

By the time the movie ended, you'd dozed off against Percy's shoulder, his thumb still tracing absent patterns against your skin. The last thing you registered was the quiet murmur of your friends' voices and the steady rhythm of Percy's breathing, anchoring you safely in the moment.

You were going to be okay. All of you were. And if hidden injuries caused this, maybe next time you’ll hide a paper cut.

part one ✵ part two

MASTERLIST

follow for more like this !! Thanks for reading!! And feel free to request!

[lila-went-missing]

Saw you want to write Clarisse x Reader and I NEED more clarisee x reader fics SO!

Can you a Clarisse x reader of when Percy broke her spear and just like readers reaction to the her scream and just very angsty but very fully at the same time! Pls and thank u!

I swear on my life reverse hurt/comfort is one of my favorite things to write on this planet. Also, I feel like it’s worth mentioning that Dior said she literally BLEW OUT HER VOICE when she did that scream?!?! She never fails to amaze me.

This got a bit sadder than intended but it's not too bad. Also, sorry this took so long, I had a math test, two essays, and a debate, on top of personal shit. But I FINALLY got it finished.

My Love is Waiting For You to Come Home

Warnings: Slight violence, mild angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, small amounts of blood, mentions of wounds, lmk if I left anything out.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Apollo!Reader

For the first time in what felt like forever, capture the flag was going great. It had been a long time since the red team had won, but you were actually doing really well. You were up in a tree close to the flag, shooting anyone who got too close with your arrows. They weren't sharp, but they had enough of a point to hurt.

Clarisse was hunting in the woods below you. You'd occasionally catch sight of her from the place you were perched on your branch. She always looked amazing like this. Hair pulled back, armor on, spear in hand. She was in her element, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't extremely attractive. The way she looked so tough, her lucky red bandanna tied around her bicep.

Anyone else would say she looked terrifying. But to you, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever laid eyes on. You were the only one who got that side of her.

It wasn't long before she disappeared again, hunting down anyone who dared to get close to the flag or your tree. She had mentioned something before the game. Something about revenge on the new kid. She didn't go into detail about said revenge, but you new it wouldn't end well for someone.

You didn't move from your tree, assuming her and her siblings had everything handled. And they did, for a while at least. You had shot down another four people by the time you heard your girlfriend scream in a way that genuinely terrified you.

Jumping down from the tree, you raced to the sound as the conch horn blue. You made it in time to see her storm off as the blue team carried the flag over. Just before she made it out of sight, you saw the spear in her hand. Or rather, what was left of it.

Oh gods. You thought.

You tipped your head back, letting out a breath before turning in the direction she went. You found her in the arena, tearing dummy after dummy into shreds. You let her go at it for a while, watching from the doorway.

Eventually, you slowly walked towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Clar.." You whisper.

She jumps, turning quickly, ready to knock you into the ground before relaxing. All of the tension disappears from her face, her bottom lip trembling. You reach forward, taking the sword from her hand and tossing it into the rack haphazardly.

"I- fuck.." She drops her head forward, breathing hard.

"Come on.. it'll be okay." You lead her towards your cabin, knowing all of your siblings would be in the infirmary tending to peoples wounds. You can see cuts and bruises on her arms, giving you a feeling that her back will be even worse. You make sure to grab the pieces of her spear on your way out.

On the way to your cabin, her eyes don't leave the ground. Your hand stays on her back the the whole walk, not leaving even as you open the door for her.

She sits on your bed, putting her head in her hands. The broken weapon lays on the foot of your bed as you sit next to her. Her breath shakes with her body.

"Let me clean you up, okay?" She nods, at your words.

"Okay.." Her voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before. You lean forward and pull her shirt over her head, confirming your suspicions about her back. An angry red covers almost the entirety of her tan skin, small amounts of blood leaking from a few spots.

You hover a hand over the scrapes and cuts, a warm glow emanating from your palm. Her wounds slowly heal as her muscles relax. Your heart breaks for her every time you hear her wince or feel her breath hitch. Your free hand reaches forward, grasping hers. A few small scars form over the area, but nothing that won't fade.

You lean your chin on her shoulder when you finish, wrapping your arm around her front. Her other hand reaches up to hold your wrist.

"I love you.." You whisper into her ear.

She hesitates, not speaking for a few moments. When she does her voice is as shaky as her body.

"That was the only thing- the only proof he-" She can't finish either sentence. You can feel her holding her breath as if she's trying not to cry.

"I know, my love. I know." Your lips press into her shoulder. "I'm gonna talk to some Hephaestus kids, I think there's a couple of Hecate kids in the Hermes cabin. I'll do everything I can to fix it."

Her whole body shudders. She's never had the best relationship with her dad. He'd always said that she should've been a son. That spear was the only acknowledgement she'd ever gotten from him. And now it was broken.

A few tears slip down her cheek that you pretend not to see.

"It'll be okay, Clar'." Your arms tighten around her as her head leans into you.

"Thank you." She mutters. If it wasn't for your close proximity you probably wouldn't have heard it at all.

"You deserve someone to care about you.. I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to be that person."

"I love you. So much." Her voices is so soft, so gentle.

"I love you more." You're not sure how long you sit like that, but it's long enough for your legs to go numb. You can bring yourself to care as she looks so comfortable. She's always had to fight for her dad's love. It gets tiring after you do everything you can to get no recognition. It was nice to know she had someone. If she didn't have anyone else, she would have you.

Eventually you moved positions to her laying on your chest. Your hand rubs up and down her back as her wrap around your waist. She traces patterns across your skin with her finger tips. It's not long before you're both sound asleep in each other's arms. She would never have to fight for your love, it was just there, ready for her when she came home.

[frickingnerd]

a place to stay for the night

pairing: percy jackson x gn!mortal!reader

summary: it's been years since you've seen percy last. but on a rainy night, he shows up injured at your door and you decide to nurse your childhood friend back to health

tags: tending to percy's wounds, wholesome fluff, childhood best friends, mortal!reader, passed out!percy, romantic/platonic

you hadn't seen percy in years. in all that time, you had almost forgotten what he looked like. and when you finally saw him again, you barely recognized the boy. he stood in front of your door, soaked in rain and blood and collapsed into your arms as soon as you opened the door.

trying to remain calm, you dragged percy inside your apartment and towards the couch. luckily, he was still breathing and just passed out, but you didn't know what to do with him. it had been years since you last saw and you hadn't imagined your reunion to go like this…

you made your way into the bathroom, grabbing a few towels and anything that you could use for first aid. calling an ambulance might've been better, but you feared that percy hadn't shown up here if he could've simply called an ambulance. he seemed to be in trouble and he must've thought you were the only one he could go to for help.

as you returned to the living room, percy had opened his eyes again, his eyelids fluttering, as he adjusted to the light around him.

“you're awake–!”

you dropped everything you had onto the living room table and crouched down next to percy, who was slowly sitting up straight.

“i-i'm sorry… for scaring you like this…” percy mumbled, his voice low and fragile. “i didn't know where else to go. and i thought, maybe after all those years, you might still live here…”

you couldn't help but smile a little. percy had still remembered where you lived. even after all that time, he seemed like he hadn't forgotten about you. just like you never quite forgot about him.

“percy…” your smile faded slowly as you raised your hand and touched his face, wiping away some blood that was beginning to dry. “who did this to you? was it… what was his name?”

percy chuckled softly.

“gabe? no, he– he's not around anymore. i've got bigger problems nowadays…”

percy smiled as he said that, but those words only made you worry more. bigger problems than gabe? if those wounds weren't from percy's abusive stepfather, then where in the world did he get them?

“hey, don't worry…” percy gently lifted your chin, his thumb gently touching the corner of your lip. “i– i know this looks bad, but i'll be fine! i've been through worse already and–”

“percy, saying that doesn't make me worry less–!”

you gently pushed away the boy's hand and glared at him. but he just chuckled softly, even though laughing made his wounds ache.

“i'm sorry…. i promise you, i'll explain everything to you. just–” percy paused for a moment. “i just need a place to stay. just for a night or two and then i'll be gone again”

you hesitated. sure, you couldn't kick percy out when he was in such a bad state. but it seemed like he was in really big trouble. trouble you might get dragged into, if he stuck around too long.

“fine…” you eventually gave in. “but you have to promise to tell me what happened to you!”

you reached out your pinky to percy, looking the boy deep in the eyes.

“and you have to promise me that you'll visit me again, without needing me for first aid!”

percy chuckled and locked his pinky with yours, leaning a little closer, as he held eye contact.

“i promise!”

[nvirskies]

til death do us part, and then some - c. la rue

warnings: reader suicide, angst hurt/no comfort, ruegard, asshole clarisse, descriptions of blood, infidelity, broken promises, not beta read

summary: clarisse never comes back from a quest and you take matters into your own hands to reunite.

unclaimed!fem!demigod!reader x unfaithful!clarisse la rue

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover @azrielsdiary

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, READ AT OWN RISK

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni

Lord Dionysus, Chiron, or whomever may be reading this:

In the event that someone has been unfortunate enough to find this note upon my death, do not fret. This has been a decision I had been mulling over for weeks, months, if not years now. I do not know when I will feel compelled to take this step further, so this has been written entirely in advance. Know that I will be content with my life in the Fields of Asphodel, or the Gardens of Elysium should Lord Hades be so generous as to grant me that privilege.

I would like to thank everyone who did their best in making Camp Half-Blood a welcoming and home space. Special thanks to the Hermes cabin, and Lord Hermes for their gracious welcoming arms and making me feel like I belonged somewhere. My belongings should be distributed amongst whomever would like to keep them, and make sure they are put to good use.

Return any and all of Clarisse’s clothing found in my chest back to the Ares cabin, and let them figure out what to do with it on their own time. Lord Ares, I give my final thanks to you for graciously allowing your daughter to have been part of my life. 

To my fellow unclaimed demigods who are wondering if they should be mourning the loss of a sibling, I have no definitive answer for you beyond if you felt like you were close enough to call me a sibling, mourn me like you would a biological one. No matter if you are claimed tomorrow or never claimed at all, know you are not unworthy or inferior simply because of your divine parent’s lack of attention. 

You may be half-divine, but always remember to keep that human spark within you alive. Keep your compassion, your empathy, your sense of understanding. This world is not made for us, but never give up on creating spaces that are. We live heavy lives, and respite is hard to come by.

When you bury my body, put me to rest with my javelin, suit of armor, and the fragments of Clarisse’s shattered spear. Under my tongue, please place two coins instead of one. My love is waiting for me on the banks of the River Styx with no way across, and I would like to provide her with a way across alongside me. 

Underneath the last paragraph was your name, signed in neat print alongside your signature swooping cursive. The letter was found rolled neatly atop your chest of belongings, your lifeless body on the bunk bed you had claimed for yourself for the past four years of your life. Crimson blood seeped through the bed sheets and mattress, a fatal reminder for all of the fragility that even the strongest harbored. 

Upon the discovery of your body, ripples of whispers swept through the campers like a stone tossed in the midst of a serene waterfront. Your skin was just barely lukewarm, the blood streaming from the thin cut horizontal across the jugular vein was beginning to brown and oxidize. 

In one hand was the knife that had presumably made the cut, the blade pristine and glinting in the dim light save for the thin line of blood that ran across its edge. The other held Clarisse’s favorite shirt, all bundled up and cleaner than anyone had ever seen it before. Anyone who picked up said shirt could immediately tell that it had been doused in the cologne that she once wore on a daily basis, no doubt a purposeful move to make your last moments completely blissful in surrounding yourself with her scent.

She had been your home, after all.

Clarisse had comforted you through nightmares, the breakdowns about being unclaimed for years that happened whenever someone new was claimed and the jealousy and anger of it all. 

She had reassured you that even after Silena had died that you weren’t a rebound, and that her feelings for you were genuine, and you had believed her. 

You were her girl, after all. The one she let her walls down around, the one who had tried to patch together the spear her father had given her even after the Hephaestus children had given up. The one who she let braid her hair and be soft around. The one where she had promised over and over again that even in the afterlife, you would find each other in Elysium again.

Then, she had been sent out on a quest. One that she had vowed to return from, safe and sound. The rest of her group did, but her face was never again seen on the hills of Camp Half-Blood that the two of you called home. 

Gone were the moments wherein she would hold you and soothe all of your worries away. Gone were the times of squealing as she picked you up from behind and spun you around to face her mid-air. Gone were all the possibilities to make the most of your limited years together, because she was dead, off in a faraway land that you couldn’t even visit to see her corpse and offer her one last smile.

That was when the thoughts began to swirl in your mind. Months went by and everything seemed to go back to normal. You had been given three weeks off training to mourn, and after those three weeks you seemingly bounced back like nothing was wrong, like you hadn’t just lost the love of your life. 

The only difference was the streak of white that made itself apparent in your hair, its origins unknown, and the smile on your face that never seemed to quite reach your eyes no matter how many times you tried to convince (yourself) and the others that it was genuine. 

Months passed and all fell back into its routine. Things were looking up for the camp as a whole, and Chiron had been able to take a few steps back in managing thanks to Percy Jackson’s continued efforts to have gods and goddesses interact with their children more. 

But those thoughts still took root in your mind, their tendrils digging into the very essence of your psyche as every lonely moment was spent longing for her touch, for her warmth, for the security that she provided once upon a time. In your mind, there was no doubt that it was time to make good on your promise to each other. 

You would meet her in the gardens of Elysium and reunite once more.

After your burial, you made your way down to the banks of the River Styx, anxiously clutching the two coins in one hand and your javelin in the other. Your eyes scanned the crowds of souls, all clamoring to Charon, pleading that he take pity on them and take them across without payment.

The wails of the damned, sobs of the innocent, and screams of the guilty all flooded your senses. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls and sprinted towards them, your footsteps leaving indents on the ash-sand lining the waterline of the Styx.

She was there. Your assumptions had been correct. 

As she had died out in the world and had never been given a proper burial, she had joined the crowd that lingered just at the edge of the Styx, taking every chance she had to try and get across. 

But now that you were there, she didn’t have to worry about sneaking aboard Charon’s boat. You had enough payment for the both of you to make it across safely, and finally live out the rest of your afterlives like you had promised each other.

It wasn’t until you were naught but a couple dozen feet away that you noticed she was rather busy with something. Or rather, someone. And she was looking at that person like they were the only one in the world right now. Your gut twisted, knowing that was the look that she had given you. 

But it wasn’t you she was looking at. It was Silena Beauregard, the daughter of Aphrodite, that Clarisse had spent countless hours reassuring you that she wasn’t just using you as a rebound to get over her death.

She had lied right through her teeth, all with the kindest smile on her face that you could imagine. It was becoming apparent that you were a fool, strung along for the sole purpose of keeping Clarisse’s arms full and warm while she thought of the Beauregard girl. 

Every kiss, every moment, every word shared between you two seemed hollow now. They had lost all meaning, all of the sentiment that once made your stomach fill with butterflies. 

You skidded to a stop just behind the pair, watching with a heavy heart and tightening in your chest as their lips collided over and over again in a series of passionate kisses, their hands roaming each others’ bodies. Just like she had done with you, countless times prior. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence.

You had always been hers, but she had never been yours. 

There wasn’t much emotion left in you besides melancholic resignation, and your gut twisted every time you gripped the two coins in your hand, a reminder that they would never be used for their intended purpose. 

You waited there for a moment before tapping on Clarisse’s shoulder, causing her to break away from the kiss and turn to look at you. Surprise filled her features, then guilt. Overwhelming guilt as she realized the situation you had caught her in. Her lips were interlocked with another girl’s just a moment ago, the very same girl that she had reassured was not a problem or factor in your relationship.

Silena stood behind her, her eyes scrutinizing your appearance, taking note of the way you clutched two coins instead of the customary one. 

“Love-? What are you doing here?” Clarisse asked, the term of endearment slipping naturally off her tongue as it had countless times in the past. But it no longer held any meaning to you, not when you had just witnessed everything before your very own eyes. You didn’t respond beyond throwing the two coins down at her feet with a knowing look, a silent callback to the promise that the two of you had made. The coins clinked softly as they fell onto the fine ash that lines the shores of the River Styx, falling on top of each other.

Horror filled her features as she realized just exactly what you were doing down in the Underworld, and her eyes fell upon the thin scar that ran just along the jugular vein on your neck.

The one spot she had taught you to go for on an opponent if anything ever threatened your life, and you had used it on yourself to have a chance at forever with her. A chance that had been wasted.

“You- you didn’t-” she began, choking on her own words as tears filled her eyes at the thought of it, and the sight of you, now in front of her, very obviously dead. 

“It was for you, ‘Risse, but it seems I really was just a rebound after all.” You spat out, a dangerously bitter edge to your voice as you looked her up and down. 

“These,” you gestured to the coins on the ground, “were supposed to be for us, for the promise you made. But I guess I was the one foolish enough to listen to you, to fall for you in the first place.”

“Enjoy your time in Elysium, La Rue, and know that you were the cause of my death. Don’t forget. On the River Styx.” 

That last statement was the final nail in her metaphorical coffin. No one made a promise on the infamous river and broke it, not without terrible consequences. Any and all chances of her getting into the paradisal side of the Underworld were dashed in mere moments as the realization dawned on her about the gravity of her mistake. 

You bent down and picked up one of the coins on the ground and left without a word, turning on your heel and disappearing back into the crowd of souls before Clarisse could utter another word. 

You had left her with two choices by giving her that one coin: to take the coin for herself and cross with Charon with hopes of trying to win you back and leaving the Aphrodite girl in the dust, or giving it to Silena and letting her go because she was clearly the girl the daughter of Ares loved most. Either way, she lost something.

Her last name was right. You rued the day you ever met Clarisse.

[aphroditeinthesea]

Hi! Could I request a Percy Jackson x Daughter of aphrodite reader angst? (this request is inspired by another fic hehe) Where the percy jackson asks the reader to help woo Annabeth (you can decide how if you decide to do this) since she's A daughter and aphrodite and immediately Assumes that she's a master in the love department but the thing is the reader has a huggers crush on percy but she decides to help him out because everyone in camp knows that percy and annabeth are made for each other (just thinking about helping your crush get on with their crush makes my heart acheee😫 Againn if you decide to pick this up you can decide on the ending!!) That's all I wantttt~~ take care of yourself!!!

“ falling feels like flying (til the bone crush) ”

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite 🌊

a/n i <3 writing percy fics just so i can use a pic of logan lerman (he’s so pretty)

⚠️ extreme and painful longing

˚ ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ⋆

He was so pretty. And that’s coming from a daughter of Aphrodite. Y/N was always admiring him from afar. His black hair that would occasionally be swept away from his face as the wind blew, causing the perfect view of his perfect features. It was confusing how a guy could look that beautiful.

She knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way, of course. Lots of girls had crushes on him. Most prominently, the prettiest daughter of Athena. Who, as if on queue, approached Percy as he was training. She had her curls in a ponytail, no makeup, just sweat that somehow made her glow. She didn't try. And he looked at her like she was all that he worshiped.

“I cant believe youre jealous of her,” one of y/n’s sisters commented.

She scoffed, “I’m not jealous of her,” she faced the other girl, “she’s just a bookworm, who happens to look like if Kate Hudson and Taylor Swift had a baby who was Victoria’s Secret Angel.”

“Mermaid man, twelve o’clock.”

“What?” She turned around to see the son of Poseidon approaching her. She awkwardly flipped her hair to be in front of her shoulders, then a little behind her shoulders, then-

“Y/N! I wanted to talk to you,” he greeted, sitting next to her.

Her sister smirked before walking off with a wink. Her heartbeat quickened, her mind going stupid, “Percsty!” She smiled.

“I have to confess something to you, no one knows, so please don't tell anyone, okay?”

She quickly nodded, “anything, yeah of course. What is it?”

He bit his lips. Oh gods. “I was wondering if you could help me impress Annabeth.”

Heart? Shattered. Brain? Broken. Lungs? Zero air, absolutely nothing.

“You like her?”

He blushed, looking down and fidgeting with his hands, “I do.”

“I can help,” dumbass, “one of the perks of being Aphrodite’s daughter.”

With that, she found herself in cabin three, under terrible, terrible circumstances.

“What’s her favorite flower?”

He thought for a second, “irises.”

Y/N wrote that down in her notebook, which she would promptly be burning at the campfire tonight. The stress was taking her over, she was ready to tear off the pink fluff ball that sat atop the pen.

“Food?”

“Extra olive pizza.”

“Gag me with a spoon,” she blurted as she wrote. “What?”

“What?”

He leaned back on his bed, “you think she’ll like this? I’m not even sure if she likes me back.”

“Trust me,” she sighed, “she does.”

“I dont know.”

“Percy, she does,” she snapped, “especially I planned this whole thing.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he grinned, “I really wanna make sure she likes everything.”

“She will,” she reassured. “You know, I never really pegged you as a romantic.”

“Me neither,” he sighed, “but when it comes to her, gods.”

Y/N frowned, “you really love her?”

He stuttered, “I mean, love, that’s a big word. I- uhm- love her- I don’t,” he took a breath, “I do.”

The only way I can explain what y/n thought in that moment was something along the lines of, “alfkhgnlkhsjk.”

She looked next to him from where she was sitting. That’s when she noticed the framed picture on his bedside table. Him and Annabeth, two years ago it looked to be. His arm around her shoulder, both of them seemed to have been laughing when the candid was taken. That's when it hit her. The bright smiles on their faces were the ones she only ever saw when they  were together. Like they both had smiles reserved for the other.

She looked back at the green eyes that were looking at her, “I can tell.”

She stood in the middle of the woods, a few feet away from the camp entrance. She saw the figure approaching her. She reached for her pocket, getting ready.

“Cheese pizza with extra olives?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

“$11.90,” the delivery boy added.

She handed him the money, plus tip, considering he had to come into the middle of the woods for this.

She walked back into camp. Wondering why she was doing this. If she had been one of her siblings, she probably would've tried to sabotage the whole thing. Make sure that Percy and Annabeth never happen. But the way he talked about her? Like she was the center of the universe? She knew she could never compete with the daughter of Athena. His wisegirl.

“You got the pizza?”

She handed it to Percy as he set up the pink irises in a vase, “here,” she muttered, “there’s no change.”

“One pizza costs twenty dollars?” He questioned.

She shrugged, “inflation.” It was kinda depressing. The best revenge she could get was giving an eight dollars and 10 cents tip. She awkwardly played with the skirt of her dress, “I’ll go get Annabeth.”

She hurried to cabin six. She knocked on the door, lucky enough, the blonde opening it, “hey?”

“Annabeth!” she forced a smile, “Percy was looking for you, he wanted you to meet him by the strawberry fields.”

“Oh?”

“Seaweed Brain!” y/n heard the laugh from archery training. She turned around, catching a glimpse of the new couple. Her hand was in his as they walked. Her nose buried in his shoulder as she giggled. For a second, just a second, he looked back at the daughter of Aphrodite. He flashed her smile, wording, “I owe you.”

Yes, you do.

[sweetsdereese]

While Jason may hate fireworks too, nothing will stop him from being there for Leo.

[psychesalcove]

taking hits for you, cause I wanna feel like I'm supposed to

✧.* jason grace after an argument with gn reader

synopsis: headcanons for jason after an argument w/ gn reader — college au !

cw: arguing (but more focused on after an argument), jason being a cutie pie and understanding bf, not proofread at all,

requested: yes, by anon !!

an: ty for the request babes !! hope this lives up to your expectations 😽😽

^᪲᪲᪲ i feel like arguing with jason wouldn't be a screaming match because of his calmer demener

^᪲᪲᪲ jason would be the type to leave midway through an argument because it gets to much for him

^᪲᪲᪲ he obviously communicates this with you, not wanting you to freak out to him leaving; but knowing that both of you could use space and have time to collect your thoughts

^᪲᪲᪲ if jason was the one leaving your condo and you were staying there, he would quickly write out on a sticky note that he loves you and he'll be home soon when he's more cooled off

^᪲᪲᪲ then he'll probably get into his car and drive around the campus,

^᪲᪲᪲ and he would probably put on a playlist that was ambience w/ light music in the background while he drives so he has something to focus on rather than his thoughts

^᪲᪲᪲ after he's been driving for about 30 minutes, he decides to run to the shop to grab some goodies for you before he comes back

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll get you a small bunch of your favorite flower, and a small teddy bear

^᪲᪲᪲ jason knows he doesn't really need to do this; as both of you were in the wrong in some way during your argument

^᪲᪲᪲ but he wants you to know that he loves you even when you don't meet eye to eye

^᪲᪲᪲ he quickly returns home, in his hands the gifts he had bought for you

^᪲᪲᪲ if he sees that you've been crying, he emideantaly drops his gifts and hugs you,

^᪲᪲᪲ "love, there's no reason to be upset. every couple has their moments; that doesn't mean that its over or anything like that. its just a little hiccup with us, but everyone has that in relationships."

^᪲᪲᪲ he would trace little hearts and stars onto your cheek as he calms you down

^᪲᪲᪲ ughh i need a jason grace in my life omg

^᪲᪲᪲ anyways..after he calmed you down, he explained his side of whatever you two were disagreeing on and how he thought he was right

^᪲᪲᪲ he's definitely one of those it's us against the world not us against eachother

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll have you explain to him what your perspective is and why you didn't agree with him

^᪲᪲᪲ and when you're explaining he'll nod after everything you say

^᪲᪲᪲ and he'll be rubbing your lower back with slow circles anytime you have to stop or if you're struggling saying your opinion

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll he really good at finding a middle ground between the two of you; and be able to sort things out

^᪲᪲᪲ as shown from above, jasons really heavy on communication in a relationship

^᪲᪲᪲ so he'll make sure that you understand why he was frustrated and that he understands why you were frustrated as well

^᪲᪲᪲ he wants to make sure that the disagreement the two of you were having wouldn't come up again or have a lower chance of occurring again

^᪲᪲᪲ he doesn't tell you that you were in the right if he knows that you weren't; he doesn't want you to start thinking that you're always right in every argument you have

^᪲᪲᪲ but he also doesn't want that for himself, so you remind him of that as well

^᪲᪲᪲ after the two of you find a middle ground for your argument, jason brings you to the living room so you two can sit down and relax

^᪲᪲᪲ "love, I was thinking that we could order some thai for dinner tonight?" (or whatever food you prefer!!)

^᪲᪲᪲ so then the two of you order some food, and pick out a moive or tv show to watch while you wait for your food to arrive

^᪲᪲᪲ butttt, if you're more upset when he does originally get back and still don't want him around you,

^᪲᪲᪲ he'll respect your request, knowing that you'd do the same for him; and that everyone needs their space sometimes and time away from others

^᪲᪲᪲ jason would leave for around 45 minutes, unless you text him saying that you were sorry and that he can come back

^᪲᪲᪲ I also feel like he wouldn't want either of you to apologize for how you were acting (unless it was completely out of hand) because those are the emotions you were feeling and he doesn't want to not express emotions if that makes sense

^᪲᪲᪲ anyway,, jason is overall really understanding of arguments and trys to find ways so the two of you can quickly resolve whatever you were disagreeing about

^᪲᪲᪲ and he'll be mature about the whole situation, taking everyone's feelings into consideration

[zagreusapollyon]

"Do you think it'll stop one day?" Percy asked of him one day, breaking the comfortable silence they both basked in.

Poseidon tilted his head toward his child, raising his eyebrow as Percy laid down on the wooden floor of the dock.

"What, little one?" He questions the boy back, his tone curious and fond.

His son sighs softly, splashing around the water with his feet. He looks up at the lavender-toned dawn, stars shining across the heavens like a divine pattern on the fabric of the world.

"The suffering. The constant struggle for a losing battle where I can never win." The boy says, the reflection of the stars in his eyes, like a swirling galaxy of miracles and wonder.

Poseidon stills.

He slowly turns to his son and closes his eyes as he breaths out his words.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes.

"Don't be," Percy says back, his voice firm but soft. "It's not your fault, and neither it is mine. I'm not blaming you for loving me enough to make my existence a reality."

Poseidon opens his eyes, his gaze filled with sadness.

"Then what can I do?" Poseidon whispers desperately. "Whisk you away to be my side? Keep you chained to this land by immortalizing your body and destroying your soul? You wouldn't want any of that. I am a god and yet I can do nothing to aid you with your pain." He finishes, falling silent as angry waves crash upon the shore and stormy clouds cover the sky like curtains.

Percy glances at the crashing waves on the horizon, at the dark ocean that stretches to eternity and beyond.

"I don't know. And it's okay for you to not know either." Percy says calmly.

"Just be here for me until I won't be here at all."

And wait until comes forth the inevitable end.

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 favorite crime: percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Know that I loved you so bad I let you treat me like that I was your willing accomplice, honey

author: and if I say best olivia song then what (I don't know if this makes sense or if it's rushed but oh well)

y/n has always gone unnoticed, apart from the few friends she has, she doesn’t draw any unnecessary attention to herself. She doesn't like it. Instead, she settles for living a quiet life.

That was, clearly, until Percy Jackson came into her life. Funny, charming, gentle but also chaotic, unpredictable, carefree Percy Jackson. He turned her life upside down the moment he walked into that classroom.

She should've listened. She should've listened to herself when she became aware he was trouble. She should've listened to her friends when they told her not to get too attached, because rumour had it, the new boy didn’t stay around for too long.

Instead, she lets herself be pulled into his chaos. Percy was like a storm: wild and impossible to contain, yet oddly comforting when he was near. He made her laugh on the days she wanted to cry. He made her believe she was someone worth noticing, someone worth staying for.

So who can blame her when he smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back? His smile was different. It wasn’t like the polite smiles she was used to. His was warmer, as if he could see through her quiet shell and liked what he found.

"hey, can I sit here?" he asks, and she wants to look away so badly. Say no. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she nods as she makes space for him to sit beside her. "yes, sure."

Really, who can blame her if she starts spending time with him? skipping classes just to have more time to talk, using homework as an excuse to spend time with him after school, sharing her lunch time with him just to get to know him better.

One day, at lunch, y/n mentions offhandededly that she doesn’t know how to swim when Percy brings up the beach.

She expects that fact about herself to be brushed off, but instead Percy gasps, looking at her with that familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. "You don't know how to swim?"

She shrugs, a little self-conscious under his gaze. "Not really. I just- never had the chance to learn."

Percy doesn’t tease her like she thought he might. Instead, he smiles like he's already planning something. He is. The next day, they end up sneaking into the dimly lit school pool after skipping their third period.

She can feel her heart racing, not just from the fear of potentially getting caught breaking school rules, but also because of the way Percy looks at her with such encouragement in his eyes.

Still, it doesn’t feel like a bad idea until she's in the water, holding onto the edge of the pool while Percy floats effortlessly around her. If she wasn't so terrified, she would think that he's showing off. "It’s not that hard," he promises. "Just trust me."

And she does. Trusts him as he coaxes her into the water, holding her hands as she kicks and paddles awkwardly, laughing when she swallows a mouthful of water. Trusts him when he doesn’t let go, even when she insists she can do it herself. She can't.

By the end of the period, she hasn't learned anything at all, but she's still grinning as she clings to the edge of the pool. Percy's sitting on the edge, water dripping off him as he beams at her. "you see? that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I hate you" she says, but she has a smile on her face that only gets wider when he chuckles.

It's in that moment, her chest full of laughter, that she begins to realize Percy isn’t just some random new boy in her class. He’s someone who makes her brave, someone who makes her want to take chances.

So the next week, who can blame her when she finds herself sneaking out through her window at night just to hang with him when she had never done something to betray her parents trust?

She shouldn’t go. She knows that. But her feet move before she can even question what she's doing, and minutes later, she's climbing into the passenger seat of his car- well, his step father's car. Percy is still learning how to drive.

“Are you insane?” she whispers, as if there was a risk of someone else hearing her but him. “If my parents find out, I’m dead.”

He grins, that crooked smile of his that makes her stomach flip. “Relax. We’ll be back before they even notice you’re gone. Trust me.”

And, of course, she does. Which is how they end up at the beach, with Percy leading her down to the shore, where the waves crash gently against the sand. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silver glow over everything.

They sit side by side, the cool night air wrapping around them. Percy leans back on his elbows, looking at the sea in front of him.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he says softly, his voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

She nods, but her eyes are not on the sea. They are set on him.

Who can blame her if she ended up loving him? loving his smiles, his rambling about the most random things, the way he bumped her shoulder everytime they walked together, the way his lips felt against hers the first time he kissed her under the pool stands.

She doesn’t know what they're supposed to be, but after that night on the beach, things seem perfect. Percy is always attentive and charming. But that doesn’t stop y/n from noticing that he's hiding something, sometimes she looks at him and he seems to be distracted, concerned, carrying a burden about something. He starts to dissapear frequently, skipping periods or leaving her hanging after making plans.

When she asks, he simply brushes it off. And foolishly, she trusts him. She lets him kiss her and make her forget about it everytime she asks. She doesn't question it when some random boy comes to find him, and Percy just tells her it's an old friend. She fully trusts him when he promises that he will be at her birthday party.

That's when it happens, just the week before her birthday, during a regular school day. The principal announces a gas leak through the intercom, asking everyone to calmly leave the building.

Nobody is calm, students are hurriedly evacuating the building. In the midst of the chaos though, y/n can only worry about Percy when she doesn’t see him in the crowd of people. She wants to wait for him, but she's pushed by other students until she's eventually outside and- is that him?

It can't be. Because as unpredictable and adventurous Percy is, he couldn't be running into the building. Except- it is him. She freezes, her heart stopping for a second and she stays there, just waiting for him to come out until a teacher takes her by the arm to pull her away from the building.

The school ends up cancelling classes because of the damage, apparently one entire wing ended up burning entirely. Percy dissapears after that, she knows he should be okay because nobody was found inside or around the school grounds when the firefighters came around. She still worries about him everyday.

And that's when she realizes, she doesn't really know him at all. She doesn't know his mother well enough to stop by his house and ask about him, she doesn't know any friends he has that could know about him, he doesn’t have a phone to call or text to make sure he's alright. Nothing. Nothing but the everyday concern of knowing he walked into that building and never came back.

Her birthday comes around, and she can't help but feel the tiniest bit of hope. He promised, he wouldn't break a promise. He even told her he had a big surprise for her.

But the day passes without hearing from him. She spends the night pretending everything’s fine, but her heart sinks with every passing minute. She checks her phone obsessively, hoping for a text or a call, even though she knows he doesn’t have a phone. When her friends tease her about him, she forces a smile, but the disappointment feel heavy in her chest.

She returns to school, a year older and still without news of Percy. It baffles her how no one else seems worried. He simply vanished, and nobody even asks about him while she's dying of worry. Because Percy wouldn't miss her birthday unless something serious had really happened, would he? If her friends didn’t ask about him, she would already be sure that she made him up in her mind.

Three days after her birthday, she's getting ready for bed. Not to sleep, she hasn't slept well in days. But she's about to lay in her bed, ready for a night full of wondering and questioning everything, when she hears a tapping sound coming from her window.

Her breath catches in her throat, and yet again she wonders if maybe she's dreaming. As she opens the window, she fully expects him to vanish, but he doesn’t. He's there. "Percy?"

He's crouched on the firescape by her window, a small smile on his face. "Hey, can I come in?"

She doesn't answer, just steps back to give him space as he slips through the window. Once he's standing in her room, she inspects him to see if he's hurt, but he's not. At least she can stop worrying about that. But if he's not hurt, then that means-

"You don't look like you have some serious injury that stopped you from coming to my birthday" she raises her eyebrows, stepping back when he walks closer to her, even though her heart is screaming for her to fall back into his arms.

He winces at her words and looks away for a moment. "i'm sorry for missing it, I just-" he suddenly falls silent, as if he doesn’t have any explanation for it. Her heart hurts. "y/n, I'm leaving."

She looks at him confused but also frustrated, she doesn’t know why he's being so cryptic. "Leaving? but you just got here."

In exchange he gives her a look full of pity, as if she's some innocent child. "No, you don't understand." she wanted to scream. Of course whe doesn’t! he was not explaining anything. "y/n i'm going home."

She suddenly felt like she needed to sit, so she backed away until she sat down on the edge of her bed. Percy followed, being careful enough to keep his distance as he sat beside her. "This is your home, Percy."

"No, it isn't." he shakes his head, and that's when she understands. He doesn't see this place as home.

She wants to ask what “home” even meant for someone like him—someone who’d never really explained why he avoided questions about his past, why he disappeared for days at a time with nothing but a vague excuse. But the words stuck in her throat.

"My world-" he starts after taking a deep breath. "isn't like yours. It's complicated, and dangerous." He looks at her with such sorrow that she feels like she's drowning in something she doesn’t even understands.

“What do you mean?” she presses.

“I wish I could tell you everything,” he admits. “Let’s just say… I’m not normal. I never was. And the people in my life—they need me."

I need you is what she wants to say, but then she realizes that she doesn't need to say it. He knows it. That's what he's trying to tell her, those people- whoever they were, needed him more than she did.

“When will you be back?” she asks instead, clinging to hope like a lifeline.

He doesn't answer right away. His silence more telling than any explanation could’ve been.

And that's when it hits her.

He isn't coming back.

After Percy admits he's leaving, Y/N sits silently, the weight of his words sinking in. The room feels impossibly small as her heart threatens to shatter. Percy hesitates for a moment before reaching into his pocket, pulling out something she can't quite make out at first.

"I, uh... I wanted to give you this" he says, holding out a thin chain with a single bead dangling from it. The bead is intricately painted, a mix of blues and greens that shimmer in the light. It looks hand-made, imperfect but somehow perfect all the same. "It was supposed to be for your birthday, but-"

She stares at it, confused. "What's this?"

He exhales softly, running a hand through his dark hair. "Where I come from, we wear necklaces like this. Each bead represents something important from the year, something we want to remember. I have one and... well, I thought you should have one too."

She takes it in her hands, looking at it closely before she looks back at him. "Why?"

"Because" he starts, his voice unsteady. "You're important to me. You're in my bead too, to remember you by." He pauses, the vulnerability in his sea-green eyes almost unbearable as he raises the chain around his neck, the beads hanging from it. "I just thought maybe you'd want one too."

Her throat tightens, and she looks at the bead in her hand. It's simple, but it feels like everything. She doesn't know what to say, so she doesn't say anything. Instead, she nods, her fingers closing around the bead as if it might disappear if she lets go.

So, who can blame her for letting him kiss her one last time before he leaves? Who can blame her if, once he slips away and gets lost in the dark of the night, she cries herself to sleep, mourning a love that never had a chance to be?

The days after Percy’s departure pass in a blur. She goes through the motions, smiling at her friends, laughing at their jokes, but inside, it felt like something essential has been taken from her. She replays every moment with him in her mind—his crooked smile, the way his eyes lit up when he was excited, the way he made her feel alive for the first time in her quiet, unnoticed life.

At first, she blames herself. For falling for him. For ignoring her friends warnings. For getting close to him. For loving him. She blames herself for all of it.

But as the time goes on, and the ache in her chest begins to fade away into resignation, She has been wrong about all of it, and she sees things differently.

Her crime wasn't loving Percy Jackson. It couldn't be. Maybe her real crime had been all those times she’d bent her life to fit his.

Sneaking out, skipping class, letting him brush off her questions. She had been so eager to be a part of his world that she’d let her own fall to the wayside. She stopped noticing the things she once loved, stopped paying attention to the people who had always been there for her, all because Percy had walked into her life like a whirlwind and convinced her she could be someone else, someone bold and daring.

And Percy, she has spend all that time thinking that his crime had been not loving her the way she had. It was more complicated than that. He had loved her, she was sure of it. But he had loved her selfishly. He had loved the version of her that made him feel normal, the version that laughed at his jokes and trusted him blindly. He had loved her because, for a little while, she made him forget about the chaos and danger of his real life.

She realizes that no one's to blame for it. She can't hate him for it, she can't hold a grudge or try to understand why he did what he did. She can't. Instead, when she thinks back on every moment she shared with him, she allows herself to enjoy the memories.

There had been pain, yes. But there had also been joy. And she decides that she doesn't want to let the hurt overshadow the beauty of what they had shared. Because for a little while, Percy Jackson had been hers, and she had been his. And that was enough.

As she gazes through her bedroom window, she can only hope that one day he would look back at those memories, and feel as fond about them as she felt. That he would remember her too—not as the girl he had left behind, but as the girl who had loved him, flaws and all.

[gh0st-in-green-c0nverse]

im the person who asked about the vague thing, and i mainly asked cause im terrible at specific prompts/requests(?? is there a difference idk) LMAOAOSOS

BUT BUT HERES THE REQUEST!!!! percy jackson x gn reader hurt/comfort??

TY FOR DOING THIS IF YOU DO LOVELY 🫶🫶🫶

thank you so much!!! and of course!

here’s a little something while I work on pt 2 of golden! sorry for the wait, I’ve been super overwhelmed with school n extracurricular stuff :(( cw: violence and fear

frosted glass (percy jackson x reader)

The fluorescent lights are making your eyes water.

“Look. Look!”

An unforgiving hand grabs you by the face and turns you to him. You meet sea-green eyes, narrow and seething.

“You did this, Perseus. All for that little potion.”

You know you look bad. Your cheekbone is painted an ugly purple, eyes bruised with bags. Crusted blood tracks from your nose. It itches. Your throat burns. “No,” you force out through your teeth, breathing hard. “This wasn’t your fault—”

Knuckles knock against your teeth, sudden and biting, and an ache blooms across your top lip. That’ll swell, you think, and you can feel it start to.

“Just hand it over, and we’ll let you both go.”

Percy doesn’t have the bottle. You do — a small glass vial filled with golden, syrupy liquid. It brings someone back to life, if only for a few minutes. Chiron needs it urgently, but so does this boy.

He looks only a little older than the two of you, with wiry blonde hair and vengeful eyes that glint a brilliant blue. He wants— no, needs to speak with his mother. He’s an Ares kid, if you remember correctly, and a deserter. If you’d had two vials, you’d share it. But in his desperation, his love for his mother had turned into hatred for you, and he was, after all, his father’s son. Rage was in his blood. He punches you again.

Percy lunges forward, but there are arms threading under his and locked on either side of his head, so he’s not going anywhere. He looks so angry it would've scared you if you hadn’t known that he’d never hurt you, not even if his life depended on it.

Your head bounces off the ground as you’re thrown down. Percy lunges again, but this time he breaks free and rushes to you.

“Are you okay?” He’s saying before he even kneels. You were bracing yourself up on your forearms, having fallen face first. He turns you forward gently, helping you into a sitting position.

“Mhm,” you hum. “I’m fine.”

You’re not fully sure where you are. You’d been woken up by a punch to the jaw, and you hadn’t had much time to take stock of your surroundings since then. It looks like the back room of some sort of convenience store; the walls are lined with rusted shelves that are stocked with vibrant packaging. The only illumination comes from greenish can lights.

Percy thumbs the blood from your lip. You wince. “Sure you are, hun.”

“Real cute.” The blond drawls. He’s probably about to make some sort of stupid wisecrack, but then the door jingles. It sounds like the bells that are attached to the front door of stores, further reinforcing your theory.

The boy exchanges a look with his friends. Suddenly, you’re being pulled away from Percy. You kick and curse him in the name of everything under Olympus, but a hand is clamped over your mouth and damn, this guy can’t even be that much older than you, yet you’re completely overpowered. You hate the feeling. A muffled sob tumbles forth.

The blonde stares real hard at you for a moment. “Don’t go anywhere,” he finally says, and slips through the frosted glass door.

“How can I help you?” You can hear him say after a moment.

“Oh, I think you know how.”

The voice is strangely familiar. A dangerous tangle of hope, relief, and fear swells in your throat.

“Pardon?”

“Where are they?”

There’s a pause, and then a dull thud.

Then silence.

Its unbearable, almost. To have help so near. At least, you hope it’s help. If it’s not, you're screwed.

The hand tightens around you, a warning.

You’ll take your chances.

You bite down, hard enough to taste blood. The kid shrieks. You’d almost feel bad if he wasn’t totally beating you up earlier.

The door is kicked open, and you don’t remember much after that.

He remembers it clearly, though. It went something like this:

You stumbled forward and Percy caught you. He tried to hold you up— he really did try, but neither of you was strong enough. The two of you fell together, all buckled knees and shaking hands.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, breathless, as he tried to get a grip on you.

You were in his arms — cold and trembling, he could feel the damp patches in the fabric of your shirt where you were bleeding; but you were clinging to him and he was clinging to you and none of it mattered because you were here. You were here and you were alive, and for a moment, everything was alright again.

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.

He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.

“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.

“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”

“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”

“Oh my gods.”

“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”

“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”

“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”

“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”

“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”

“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”

“Ugh.”

Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.

He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.

“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.

Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”

“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”

“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”

Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!

A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.

“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.

But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.

“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”

Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.

“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”

Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.

“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”

Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.

Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.

“Why’s it stupid?”

Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?

Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.

He’s never seen him cry.

Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”

The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.

“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”

He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.

Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”

Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”

“People like you?”

Percy nods.

Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.

“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”

The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.

“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”

“D’you hurt her?”

“…I scared her.”

“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”

“…What?”

Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.

“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”

“I —”

“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”

A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.

“She didn’t scare me, though.”

“Not even once?”

“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”

“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”

Percy tilts his head.

“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”

“Everyone has that.”

“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”

Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”

Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.

“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”

Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.

“You’re not, either.”

Nico blinks. “Huh?”

“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”

“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”

Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!

“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”

“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.

“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”

Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”

“No. You’ll still be annoying.”

He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”

“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”

Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —

Gods, they’re bad at this.

But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.

“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.

Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”

“Are you going to?”

“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.

“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”

“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”

Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”

“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.

Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”

“So.”

Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.

(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)

“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”

“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”

“I literally hate you. Not joking.”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”

“Disgusting.”

“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”

“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.

Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.

He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.

“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”

Nico flushes. “Shut up.”

“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”

“Shut up, Percy, gods.”

“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”

Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.

“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”

He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.

“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”

Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.

“Yes.”

“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”

Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”

“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”

“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”

“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”

Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.

“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”

“It hasn’t been?”

Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”

Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”

Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”

Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.

“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”

Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”

It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.

“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”

“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”

“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”

Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?

Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.

“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”

Nico thinks he���s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.

“How do I make him realise? Make him —”

Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”

Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.

“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”

Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.

———

next

[unpublishediary]

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

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

part one ✵ part two

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

✵ interest: percy jackson (HOO)

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

MASTERLIST <- & request info

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Two (coming soon)

MASTERLIST

follow for more like this !!

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

[lila-went-missing]

I saw you wanted req's for Clarisse !! and I had a cute (well I thought it was cute) Hear me out !! You're Percy's older sister but you've been at camp for a few years so you and Clarisse have had more time to talk and get closer, sooo coincidentally once Percy came and after he and Clarisse had their fall out she finalized the relationship (not to be petty but just to get under his skin a little bit.. but also she didn't wanna do something to Percy and have you upset with her and ruin the progress y'all made.) But !! Percy only found out when you guys were eating at your table and Clarisse came by and didn't say anything to him, she kissed you but as she was walking away she muttered a half-assed apology to Percy. Bro's dumbfounded but you break the news to him, and as the loving brother he is and the fact you and Clarisse have known each other it's only fair he happy for you !! (You keep him safe from her.) SORRYYY this is so long but Clarisse makes me giggle, I hope you're having an amazing day !

I've been so excited to write this but I'm also such a procrastinator so sorry if this took a long time to come out. You're literally so sweet I hope you have an amazing day.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, it gets slightly suggestive once but nothing happens, cursing i think, I'm not going to lie to you this sucks especially the ending.

This took forever because I'm the medically expensive one in the family and I've been in and out of doctors offices for over a month now. This isn't proofread, I trust grammarly and move on. I love you all so much, enjoy my lovelies.

When the Waves Come In

Being a forbidden kid was anything but easy. Monsters could smell you more than others. The gods hated you. Trouble and tragedy seemed to track you down wherever you went, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only perks? Having a cabin to yourself and being slightly more powerful than other demigods. If you were being honest, that wasn't really a fair trade.

Not to mention, the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood either hated or praised you. There was no in between. You were claimed only seven months after arriving at camp, this made a lot of unclaimed kids unhappy with you. Like it was your fault that Poseidon was kind of proud of you once? It's not like he's bothered to reach out since then.

Over the last three years of living at camp, you've made some decent friends. You got along pretty well with most of the Hephaestus kids, Beckendorf immediately taking a liking to you for your stubbornness. The Apollo kids liked you, they even let you help lead archery classes. But there was one person that you were closer with than anyone else. Clarisse. Your Clarisse.

You weren't friends. You were so much more than that. But at the same time, you weren't quite together either. It was very complicated. However, there was one thing you were both certain of, you like being near each other, and hated being separated. Oftentimes, she would sit at your table during meals, Chiron choosing to turn a blind eye. You would sneak her dessert every time she lost her privileges. You were her girl, that much, everyone knew.

When a new kid by the name Percy Jackson showed up at camp, you didn't think much of it. New kids arrived all the time, 90% of them never being claimed and getting left to rot by their godly parents in the Hermes cabin. It was sad, but it was the truth. You learned to live with it.

You assumed the same would happen to him, until you saw it. The horn that once belonged to the Minotaur. Grover claimed he had killed it with its own horn. Everyone believed it except Clarisse. You wanted to not believe it, but how else would he have the horn?

Of course, Clarisse being Clarisse, she had to prove that he was a fraud. The first time she did this, she was blasted by water into a wall, effectively shattering a mirror with the impact. She came to you, of course, a bruise forming over her stomach and chest. You were honestly surprised that she didn’t some internal bleeding deal going on.

“I just want him to own up to being a liar!” She ranted. “Is that too much to ask? I mean, he’s 12, he’s like 4’11, he has no muscle what so ever! How am I expected to believe that he, of all people, killed the Minotaur?” She paced back and forth over the floor of your cabin for what felt like an eternity.

“I mean, this kid shows up out of literally no where, and is getting all the glory in the world. Is everyone here really that blind? There’s no way he managed to actually kill it, yet he’s getting all the praise? How does that add up?”

You stood from your place on your bed, walking towards her and placing your hands on her shoulders. Your hands squeeze gently, trying to ground her.

“Breathe,” you whisper, “I know it sounds highly unlikely. I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be.” Honestly, if the only way you could ever get your father’s attention was through glory and winning fights, even then, seldom getting any acknowledgement whatsoever. You have to admit, you’d be pretty pissed in this situation too. I mean the only thing you could do to get anything, even an admittance that you exist, is immediately taken over by this random kid no one’s heard of? Yeah, she’s rightfully pissed.

“But I need you to breathe before you have a nervous breakdown, honey.” Your hands rub up and down her arms, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

“I wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown.” She mutters.

“I know, but I might’ve.” Knowing her, the way she is behind closed doors, she most definitely would have. But you let her believe that she would be okay.

“It’s just not fair you know? He hasn’t done anything. Even if he did kill the Minotaur, there’s no way he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline and rage. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried. He’s getting all of this praise, and for what? Existing? Being, not even a man, a boy?” Her voice is much much quieter this time, barely making it to a whisper. If it wasn’t for your proximity you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I know, I know, love.” You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her. “Just think, in a week or two, people will probably forget all about it. He’ll go back to being a regular 12 year old, nothing special.” Realistically, you know that sounds kind of bad, but what else are you supposed to say to her.

There was a part of you, no matter how small that part may be, that knew that wasn’t going to happen. Most demigods aren’t able to do something like that and live through it. But you knew he wasn’t like most demigods.

You knew he would get claimed, soon, most likely. From the moment you laid eyes on him it’s like you could feel it. What happened in the bathrooms only confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t say anything to the girl in front of you, you knew who he was.

He was another forbidden kid. Not just a forbidden kid though, your brother. A son of Poseidon.

***

Capture the flag was the next day. From the moment you woke up you could feel the energy surging through the air. This was one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The only thing you really won was a party and bragging rights. I guess to camp full of the competitive people you’d ever meet, that was all you needed.

It was definitely all Clarisse needed. She loved to win and hated to lose, a trait she inherited from her father. And she’d be dammed if she was going lose another game of Capture the Flag.

That’s why you’re so confused when she tells you that she’s changing the plan. She never changes the plan, finding solace in a good strategy.

You understood more when she explained what she was doing. Revenge on the new kid for blasting her with toilet water. When you put it like that, it sounds logical. But knowing Clarisse, and knowing what you know, you can’t just go along with it.

“Clar, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You both paced around each other in your cabin, similar to last night.

“Are you seriously telling me that what he did was okay?” Her voice raises with every word.

“No! I just- I have a bad feeling! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I won’t! I can handle myself, you know this!”

“I know! But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you!” Your heart beats out of your chest with every step you take towards each other.

“I can’t believe this! You really don’t think I can do this!” Before you can even formulate a response, she’s grabbing her stuff and walking out the door.

You follow her of course, yelling her name, but it’s no use. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t even pause in her steps. You watch her disappear behind the door of cabin five.

The door to cabin three shuts as you slide down it. Your head hits the wood as you lean back, sure to give you a headache later. You can’t find it in yourself to care though. A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Then another.

You know it’s a bad idea. She will go after revenge. And she will get hurt. But you also know that there’s literally nothing you can say to her. You want to, but it’ll only make things worse. That's the thing about Clarisse, when she gets her mind set on something, there's no changing her mind. All you can do is patch her up afterwards.

The red team has kept the flag near the water ever since you were claimed. They made sure that you were never far from it, blasting anyone in the face if they got too close for comfort. You weren't going to lie, it was potentially one of your favorite things to do.

So, as per usual, you were patrolling the edge of the water. No one had really gotten close enough, which was very disappointing. Until the new kid ran out of the woods and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Your whole body straightens immediately, muscles tensing. You pull out your sword and move towards him. He probably doesn't want a fight but it's better safe than sorry.

He had a few cuts littering his arms and cheeks. His clothes were dirty and he was now covered in wet pebbles. You could tell that he was disoriented and panicked. You were about to approach him when one of your sort of girlfriend's brothers ran out of the woods after him. Miles. One of her sisters followed suit, Trinity, you think her name was. Dear Hades they're actually going through with it.

Clarisse comes barreling out of the woods after them. Before you can even think about jumping in the sound of metal on metal fills your ears. Swords and shields clash. A spear jabbed at his chest. Her spear. You wanted to get between them, help him, protect him. Even if he didn't know it yet, he was.

But you couldn't. Everything moved so fast you didn't have time to react before they were all rolling over the ground. The water fed off of your emotions, grabbing her siblings and ripping them away from the fight. But it was too late. You saw the spark come from in between them. You heard the wood snap. Half of the spear was in her hands, the other half in his as his body rolled with the momentum.

It felt like time froze for those few seconds. The water was still. The wind stopped blowing, birds stopped chirping. The air around you seemed to disappear. You couldn't breathe. All noises cut out as her guttural scream ripped through the air, lasting for what felt like an eternity.

She ran forward, grabbing the front of his armor and jerking him forward. The conch blew, the blue team ran across the river carrying the flag. She ran off into the woods, it didn't take long for you to follow behind her, grabbing the pieces of the spear as you went.

Before you fully made it away, you saw the trident above his head. That's the moment you realized that you should've placed bets. You would've made bank, but that's not really your concern right now.

You find her in her cabin, facing away from the door, sitting on the edge of her bed. If you look close enough you can see the way her shoulders shake. You place the pieces of her spear on a table near her bed before kneeling behind her. Your arms wrap around her front, pulling her in.

Her back rests against your front, her head tucking back into your neck. You feel the way her shoulders tremble and shake in your gentle hold. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. A few tears slip down your cheeks that you don't mention. You don't push her. It's very rare she lets anything like this happen. She feels like showing these kinds of emotions would make her weak. It didn't matter how many times you assured her otherwise. Sometimes you can't change a person's thoughts when they're the only thing that person has ever known.

After what feels like forever, she speaks. Her voice comes out shaky. It's the kind of soft you only hear late in the night after sneaking into her cabin.

"That spear- it was the only-." A sob escapes her throat and you can feel the way it moves through her whole body, consuming her completely.

"I know honey.." You whisper in her ear. Your arms subconsciously tighten around her muscular frame.

"It was the only proof that he could ever love me." You swear you can feel your heart shatter. You've never liked her dad, but even so, you knew how much that spear meant to her. Her fathers traits were very prominent in her from the moment she was born. Her anger issues kept her in trouble, never getting help. Never being accepted. Her father was the only hope she would ever have until she met you. But even then she was so terrified of losing you...

"It'll be okay.. I promise." Your words a hidden promise of protection.

You're not sure what happens that night but you know something changes. Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter. Her breaths came a little deeper, more relaxed. Your finger over more of her scars, tracing them with the delicacy that was only ever seen in the hands of the greatest artists. When you thought about it though, she was the only work of her art that would ever be worthy of such care.

When you wake the light hits the two of you in a new way. As if Apollo made Helios shine it on the two of you alone so he could write the greatest love hymns that would ever be seen by mankind.

Her siblings don't question your presence. They never do. Why would they when it's so rare the children of Ares are able to find such peace. So rare they can find such a level of acceptance within another person.

For a while you sit there and watch the golden light dance across her bronze skin. The way it shines around her face, the face you've kissed so many times. The face you long to kiss right now. You don't sneak out this morning, instead staying curled into her side. The beating of her heart threatening to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Then the conch blows for breakfast, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, turning into pools of golden honey as the light swims in the sweet waters. A small smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper. Your hand strokes over her cheek.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is as soft as the way she looks at you. Before you know it she's leaning forward and placing her lips on yours. It's the first time but it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... right. Something about it is so perfect. The way your lips fit together like long lost pieces of a puzzle.

"What was that for?" Your lips remain parted when you pull away. "I just, wanted to kiss you." She mutters in reply. A blush covers the expanse of her cheeks. You never thought you'd see her so flustered. "Can you do it again? Kiss me again?" She smiles and nods at your words before leaning in and pressing her lips back against yours.

They're soft and warm as they slide against yours. It feels like coming home after a long day of training. Your favorite person right in front of you with open arms.

When she pulls away, she's smiling wider than you've ever seen her. "I really should have done that a lot sooner." You can't help but laugh at her words. "I've only been waiting for four years!"

"Why don't we make up for that?" She leans forward, resting her hand on her waist and pulling your body against hers. A chuckle leaves your throat.

"Maybe later, right now, I really want breakfast." You peck her lips once more before rolling out of bed. "Come on!"

It's not long before you're both dressed and making your way to the dining pavilion. As much as you would like to sit with her, she's already on thin ice with Chiron. You take your time getting your food and burning it, not wanting to be separated until absolutely necessary. Eventually though, you have to part ways and join your newly-claimed brother at the Poseidon table.

"I'm surprised you're not more banged up if I'm being honest." You say as you take your seat. There's not a single scratch on him.

"Annabeth kind of shoved me into the water, next thing I know everything is healed." He answers, you can tell he's nervous knowing your connection with Clarisse.

"Perks of being Poseidon's kid, that and our cabin is a lot less crowded." He laughs lightly at your words.

"You're telling me! It's nice not sleeping on the floor." The both of you go quiet for a while, eating in comfortable silence. The breeze is cool against your skin, a nice reminder of the weather barrier. When you look up, Percy is looking behind you with pure fear in his eyes. You expect to be greeted by a monster when you turn, instead you're greeted by your girlfriend.

You can't help but chuckle at the look on Percy's face. You really can't help but laugh at his face when she leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. "I'll see in training later, right babe?"

"Wouldn't miss it." You kiss her jaw before she turns and jogs off towards the arena.

"She- you-" He looks utterly dumbfounded as what he just witnessed. "What just happened?"

"She's my girlfriend, Percy."

His mouth drops open with the most surprised look you've ever seen. "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" You don't really care if it is, but you ask anyway. "No, no I just, didn't take her as the type to really date anyone." He answers.

"Most people don't, I'll do my best to keep her from pulverizing you." A laugh escapes you before you take your leave.

Life didn't seem too bad.You had a new brother, you were dating the girl you'd been in love with for years. You might even be able to convince her to leave him alone. You'll get her spear fixed as a surprise birthday gift.

You can feel everyone's surprised eyes on you as you walk out. There's no doubt the entire camp knows by now, and there's no doubt that a billion rumors will be floating around by dinner time. But there's a part of that just, can't find it in you to care. How can you when you have everything you've wanted right there in front of you.