#pjo angst headcanon

[littlesilentrebel]

HEAVY ANGST HC

percy has a fairly deep scar on the side of his neck that he got after the titans curse, after nico running away

whenever anyone asks where he got it he simply says he doesnt remember

he does

he got it in his room, late at night, when sally was asleep and percy couldnt

he could only think of the 10 year olds life he destroyed

and hated himself for it

and uncapped riptide

and pressed the blade harshly against his neck

until remembering there may be a chance to help nico

and that he has to stay alive

for annabeth

for his mom

for the camp

for the war

for nico

[demigods-posts]

never thought about the implications of frederick not seeing annabeth for five years. imagine the last thing you have of your daughter is a broken window lock and an unmade bed with cobwebs hanging from the headboard. and then reuniting with her five years later. and she's a foot taller. and her hair once natural is now braided and upkept. and she learned how to tie her shoes without you. and wow do you even know your daughter? and then she turns to face you from across the field. and her eyes are still the stormy gray that you remember. except they're now calculating and cold. searching for the slightest sign of a threat. and your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. because look what you put your daughter through.

[mmavverickk]

anyway have any of you ever thought about how Jason was raised by wolves and then an army and told he had to be the best so he became the best, made himself the best using his experiences and power, who has to prove himself time and time again to the people who made him, and then he meets Percy Jackson who, with almost none of Jason’s training, without having been raised and molded into a leader, is better than him

Percy Jackson, who had a childhood, who had a mom, who seems all the better for it. Jason can finish his quests and missions and get a pat on the back and congratulations for bringing honor to the Legion and nothing else because that’s what’s expected of him, while Percy gets hugs and cookies and tears of relief and so much love because people had been hoping he’d succeed, not because it meant victory, but because it meant he'd live.

all of the things Jason’s gone through to make him that perfect leader and soldier feel like they were all for nothing because he looks at Percy Jackson and sees that perfect leader and soldier and none of the things that made Jason good are what made him great

[helpallthenamesaretakenblog]

paul blofis you will always be famous for being excited and supportive of percy when he dinged your car while gabe threatened him with violence if he touched his car.

[poppitron360]

People forget Leo Valdez is actually kinda badass

[frickingnerd]

percy with a kidnapped s/o

pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

tags: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship, protective!percy, hints at revenge

if you ever get kidnapped then gods help the person who did that, because percy is going to find them and if he does, he'll do unthinkable things to them!

he won't rest until he has found you and made sure you are safe. that's his main concern!

he'll go for days without sleeping on his search for you and the only thing that's keeping him from collapsing from exhaustion is his concern for you and the hatred towards the one that took you away from him

he knows this isn't healthy, but he can't help himself. they could be doing horrible things to you while he's resting and he couldn't forgive himself if he'd make you suffer for longer than you needed to

once he knows where to find you, he'll head out on his own, without telling anyone at camp. if they are lucky, they manage to follow him and catch up to him before he reaches you

however if he's alone, there is nobody holding him back…

once he finally finds you, his main concern is getting you out of that place and making sure you're okay

he'll carry you out and hold you in his arms for a few minutes, kissing your forehead as he tells you how much he missed you and how sorry he is that he wasn't here any sooner

but he assures you that you don't need to worry anymore! he's here now and he'll protect you. nobody is ever going to lay a finger on you again

he'll make sure of it…

[soulofapatrick]

Kiss Me Tired - Percy Jackson x Female Reader

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

Words: 1.9k

warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perce… Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riordanverse Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[goblinwithartsupplies]

Imagine Connor and Travis intentionally avoiding Luke in the battle of Manhattan because they knew that the second they saw him they would just break down because that’s their brother. Who helped them go back to sleep after nightmares. Who showed them the best hiding spot in camp. Who taught them where Chiron hides the keys to the camp van. Who taught them to swim. Who warned them of how awful Hermes was and not to try to make him proud because he never would be.

[livlaughloveluke]

luke castellan who leaves you, his girlfriend, behind at camp after joining kronos. no matter how hard you pleaded to join him, or for him to stay, he reluctantly ignored you and convinced himself it was for the better. he convinces himself that you’ll thrive without him, that you’ll move on in a week tops.

but instead you’re left to mourn the loss of your love. while he might not have been dead, the boy you once knew was gone, and you would have to live on without him.

set to the song “ivy” by frank ocean

“i broke your heart last week, you’ll probably feel better by the weekend.”

[bountycancelled]

PJO TWEETS

(part 5)

previous | next

requested: no but I did get the idea from @marvel8169 to turn this into a series so thank you!

content: daughterofzeus! yn (so she's kinda insane) ooc! luke, clarisse and chris simply because I haven't read the books so, one mention of sex, yn dresses provocatively but no one shames her or anything, thief shaming, age shaming and death threats all from percy lol, I think that's it.

a/n: this is the fifth part, but it's also the first part that has some semblance of a plot so... let me know if you like this writing style or not, also I added Chris, I felt like he was needed to make the group a little bigger. also since this is technically the first official part, every part from now on is gonna have a taglist so ask in the comments if you'd like to be added!

TAGLIST: @nothinmuchs-blog @zeeader @m00ng4z3r @casualcandypersona @volko666 @silkenthusiasts

[reddamselette]

valgrace except they steal eachother’s clothes all the time. it started off as something small. jason didnt bring a jacket so leo offered his because he always runs hot, he never asked for it back so jason kept it. leo scorched his camp shirt during a bad run in with the forge and jason came to the rescue with his own shirt, he was wearing an tank top underneath and leo walked around with the dark blue custom camp shirt made for the cabin of zeus.

then it became something bigger. they’d swap hoodies, pajama pants, everything possible until their closets were split between half and half.

after leo died, all jason could wear was his clothes. he wanted to keep leo close, to never forget how he smelled of birch wood and kindling ash. leo’s clothes were thin so jason almost always wore the first jacket that was given to him even in 100 degree weather.

when jason died, leo wore both. his clothes were covered in jason’s scent and he would switch them out for jason’s clothes when it eventually washed and faded away. it was the last things he had from jason and the night that he couldn’t smell him on the blue camp shirt, leo sobbed until his throat was hoarse and his eyes were sore.

[littlesilentrebel]

percy and nico

[demigods-posts]

annabeth taking the knife for percy was peak impulsiveness at that stage of their relationship. because up until this point of the series. if i'm remembering correctly. all of annabeth actions were calculated. even her stubborn actions had merit. but taking the knife? knowing he was invulnerable? but taking the knife? knowing that him watching you cry out in agony hurt him just the same if he had been stabbed? but taking the knife? and then lying on a cot in the glisten of the setting sun? vulnerable and slow? grounding him like he's the one who needed saving? like watching you bleed out is enough to kill him? and touching the small of his back brings him back to life? impulsiveness turned romantic. turned angst. turned 'all the words i didn't say but you heard them anyway'. don't talk to me.

[mmavverickk]

Sally names Percy for the happy ending she hopes he’ll get. she spends hours researching demigods and their ends. Heracles, poisoned and given immortality as a leash. Bellerophon, revered for his deeds and killed for his hubris. Achilles, feared by all yet slain in battle. none of those would be her boy. She names him Perseus, for his successes and his long life, and she hopes it will help protect him, this name.

Percy is thirteen, recently returned from his first week at Camp, when Sally calls him by his full name. what had caused it, she can't remember. all she can remember is her strict, "Perseus Jackson––" and her son's poorly hidden, full-bodied flinch.

Sally knew––gods, she knew––that he would face hardships. she knew he would have to learn to fight, to protect himself, to kill––but that knowledge hadn't been enough to dim her hope. it was that flinch, that fear that he'd quickly cleared from his eyes at hearing his own name, that started to eat away at her hope like rot.

[helpallthenamesaretakenblog]

is it just me or does the circe's island scene and the siren's bay scene parallel each other so perfectly in sea of monsters. in both scenes, a harmful entity shows percy/annabeth a vision of their idea of perfectionism. and in both scenes, both of them put themselves in harm's way thinking that they were going to achieve this vision while in reality they were in danger, and had to be rescued by the other. and both scenes are followed by a comforting hug. but the thing is; the different ideas of perfectionism shown to percy and annabeth align perfectly with their view of life. annabeth hates her life; she feels confident in herself but still hates her broken family, the itching to become great even though she feels so powerless, luke. but percy is different. he hates himself, inside and out. so annabeth saw her life fixed. percy saw himself fixed.

[poppitron360]

Imagine Leo Valdez, having spent most of his life believing he is some sort of Spawn of Satan bc of his unexplained fire powers and what his family told him before they abandoned him, meeting Hazel Levesque for the first time- daughter of the God of the Underworld, a LITERAL Spawn of Satan- who is lovely and caring and an absolute QUEEN (yes, Hazel, slayyy), and thinking: “Huh. Maybe being a Cursed Devil Child isn’t as bad as I thought…”