#pjo canon

[ineedibuprofen]

Percy Jackson + 137?

Percy doesn't even see it coming.

His instincts and reflexes are something he's always been able to rely on and that was only confirmed as the River Styx's curse protected him. Achilles' mark was unpredictable and dangerous there was no doubt, but Percy found it a whole lot easier to focus on the fight when he wasn't worrying about being killed. For the most part.

He finds himself on the other side of Manhattan, crossed paths with a demigod on the opposite side of the war – a child of Hermes, ironically enough, and Percy would be lying if his familiar sandy blonde hair didn't cause equal parts hesitance and resentment to stir up inside him. He doesn't know his name, doesn't recognize him from if he went to camp before, but that wasn't all that surprising. Most of the demigods on the other side Percy didn't recognize.

He's a good sword fighter. Percy knows he's good himself, taught by Luke, the best swordsmen in hundreds of years – he swallows down the hesitance and resentment that rises once again at the reminder – but this kid's been able to hold his own for a good while now. Kid, not just because it was Percy's default nickname to call other people, but also because he really was a kid. He looked maybe fifteen, if he was stretching it, but probably younger. Definitely younger than Percy.

It's a bitter reminder of where they are. In the center of Manhattan, Percy stresses about disarming this kid so he can run and get back to the main fight. Everything is stock still frozen, a time capsule city, and it still feels unreal. It was easy to get lost in the illusion that none of this was actually happening.

"Give it up," the kid grits out as Percy loses his footing.

He slips back a bit and the son of Hermes brings his sword back up. Percy does the same and they meet with a clang that echoes in the silent landscape. There's no one and nothing around, aside from a smashed car that's on fire. It's a few feet away, not close enough to be of help if Percy loses Riptide, but not far enough to be a completely useless asset. Percy uses his other hand as leverage as he places at the other end of his blade and pushes. His foot catches on a rock and it helps him gain traction.

"No," he says, and the kid falls back.

He lands on his backside, taking breath after breath. There's soot and smoke surrounding them and it tastes like fire, like Mt. St. Helens, like scars in his skin that reappeared after Calypso's magic wore off, like he was fourteen then and didn't know how to control his powers and now he's sixteen and destined to die and about to kill a kid a year younger than him. His eyes are brown and round and he's staring at him with the look of a wild animal.

Percy lifts Riptide and points at his throat, feeling the way it trembles in his hands. The blade meets the kid's skin and he closes his eyes, preparing for what he believes is the inevitable. He almost looks like Nico di Angelo. Like Ethan Nakamura. Like Luke Castellan. Like any other camper who was scared shitless and rightfully angry at the Gods. Like Percy.

He swallows down the regret of this whole situation. He swallows down the nausea in his gut. He swallows down his dwindling will to live and the none of this would've happened if you'd never been born. Take a look at the damage around you, Luke has taunted in his dream, how much of it would still be here if you didn't exist? How much of it would go away if you just died?

Percy's eyes unexpectedly sting. He tries to become apathetic, but – this isn't the first demigod he's killed, even if he tries to avoid it like nothing else. It was inevitable, or so he told himself. That was his excuse. But it felt weak now, in the middle of a war with no end in sight.

No end in sight, except for this demigod who was about to die. By Percy's hands.

One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.

He can't do it.

His eyes squeeze shut and he pulls Riptide back towards himself. He caps it. He puts it back in his pocket. The kid's eyes open. There's a strange look on his face, a combination of terror and confusion and relief. 

"Go." Percy says, voice tense. He takes a step back in a weak white flag and looks to the side, "I didn't see you. Just go."

He stares at him for another second in presumably shock before he splutters and nods. He mutters as he scrambles up, a series of okays and oh Gods and other relieved words Percy doesn't catch. When he's found his balance, he frowns at Percy.

"Why would you –,"

He doesn't get to finish the sentence.

Percy doesn't even see it coming.

There's a loud noise, a noise of a deep, familiar noise. It's exponentially loud, so, so loud, and Percy's ears are ringing before he hits the concrete. He's weightless  as his body flies. After half a second and forty years, he slams his head against the pavement as he hits the road a few feet from where he's been standing. His ears are ringing and he doesn't know the logistics of the Achilles' heel, but his head is pounding like a motherfucker and when he touches his ear, his fingers come back bleeding.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened? What – an explosion. The familiar noise. Charles Beckendorf's final salute. The Princess Andromeda. The Titan War. It was all the same, it was – where was he? There was an explosion. What caused it? Bomb. Bomb? No, that – where did bombs come from? What was happening – definitely bomb. But no. Fire. Car. The car. Oh, shit. No, no, no. The car had been on fire.

Damnit.

He lets out a groan and curls in on himself. He's not in pain, physically, but he's off put and his ears aren't recovered yet and –

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The kid.

There was a kid, wasn't there? A son of Hermes. Luke? No. Was it – or maybe Ethan? No, no. God – focus. Son of Hermes. Details unknown. He has to find him.

Percy, ignoring his brain's protests, manages to roll over and get to his feet. His ears are still ringing, but it's low and quieter, and he can hear the crackling of a fire nearby. He stumbles as he takes a step forward, mind not quite registering the damage.

The car is no longer there, replaced by bits of metal and rubber and other bad smelling shit that burns in the air. There's little fires scattered around them, and then a bigger one where the car originally was. The air is hot and the atmosphere is like he's in a bubble with no air. It hurts to breathe and he must've inhaled some smoke or something because everytime he breathes too much, he coughs. It's hard and forceful, rattles his lungs, and he hasn't coughed like this since he was ten and Gabe was chain-smoking in the living room while he had bronchitis. 

He can hear shouting in the distance, war cries and battle calls, and as the ringing finally fades, Percy remembers he's in the middle of a war. There are people to help and monsters to fight and when did he get sperated from Annabeth? He doesn't know. He doesn't know and it doesn't matter and he needs to focus because there's a kid that needs him.

He scans the rest of the horizon, ignores the way his mind tells him he's abandoning his post. He's abandoning his post for someone on the enemy's side and what kind of leader was he, standing in the middle of wreckage looking for someone most likely saveless to save.

He sees him, across the street from the crime scene. He's on his side, his back facing Percy, his clothes smouldering. He's not moving, except for a very faint rise and fall of his chest. This time, Percy doesn't hesitate.

He runs to the other side of him, crashes into the ground so hard he can feel the skin on his knees break. He turns him over carefully, so his face is towards the sky. His skin is covered in soot and there's burn holes in his shirt and he's bleeding in more than one place.

"Hey, hey," Percy murmurs, "get up, kid. Are you okay – you're okay. You're okay. C'mon, kid."

He doesn't say anything. Percy, feeling his panic rise and take over his instincts, rips open the guy's shirt. He assesses the injuries and takes stock of the supplies he doesn't have. He has a gash on his forehead that's bleeding, red crimson running down the side of his face. His ankle is twisted the wrong direction. Minor cuts and burns cover the bigger half of his body.

Percy has nothing. No ambrosia, no nectar, no first aid. He searches the kid's pockets, desperate for a solution, but the only thing he finds is half a square of crushed ambrosia. He shoved it in the kid's mouth, who remains unresponsive. He moves his jaw and hits him in the throat so he chews and swallow it, and then he's left to his own devices.

The only helpful thing he has is own t-shirt and a piece of sturdy wood and arm's length away. He grabs it, rips the end of his shirt off and then rips it in half and creates a makeshift splint for the ankle. He takes the other half piece and wraps his head best he can, but it doesn't even go in a full circle and he doesn't have any tape to hold it in place.

Kronos has risen and he's forever away from any kind of medical equipment and this kid still hasn't fucking moved. His chest isn't moving. Percy flicks around for his wrist, holds his breathe as he checks for a pulse.

Nothing.

No. No, no. He just had him, Percy just had him. He just – he was alive. What the hell happened? The explosion wasn't that bad, he's not bleeding that bad anywhere.

Percy reels back on his heels and let's himself sit on the floor. He stares at the body of a son of Hermes he never knew the name of. He wonders if anyone knew his name.

People die. People have died. People are dying. People will die. Percy's been at the other end of the sword more than once. That doesn't change the guilt that grows into a parasite and eats his insides. That doesn't change the tears still burning in his eyes. It doesn't change the prophecy, the hero's sould cursed blade shall reap. It doesn't change Annabeth taking a knife for him.

It feels like a cruel, cosmic joke. Like his whole life, everything he's suffered through and sacrificed, all the shit others have suffered through and sacrificed, has been leading up to the fact that he and his friends and the only safe place for people like them was going to be destroyed.

There's nothing left, at the end of the world, except for Kronos and his goons.

If there was any justice in the world, Percy thinks – he leans over and closes the kid's eyes, crosses his arms over his chest, and makes sure he'll tell others to make him a shroud – Gods hope that they've put their trust in the right people.

If there's any justice in the world, this war will not end in chaos. This war will not cater to those who started it for their own benefit.

[king-wilhelm]

The book percy jackson (demigod I relate to and aspire to be like) to tv percy jackson (demigod I relate to and want to protect) is so real for those of us in our twenties

[demigods-posts]

percy doing better than annabeth in college is one my favorite developments in the rrverse. if we reflect on percy and annabeth's academic upbringing. annabeth living at camp allowed her to receive accommodations for her adhd and dyslexia and surround herself with like-minded campers who had the same limitations. whereas percy was ridiculed, belittled, and routinely humiliated because of his adhd and dyslexia. even more so, percy's friends and family leave him out of the loop on so many important issue (no chb orientation film, no information about the great prophecy) which perpetuates his subpar confidence and self-esteem in his skills as a student and a demigod. but going to college at NRU changes his mindset because he receives the accommodations he should have gotten years ago and fucking thrives to the point of getting higher grades than annabeth — a person he deems way smarter and more prepared than him in every way. the most important thing percy is learning now is that a supportive environment makes all the difference, and he is more capable than he initially thought.

[arggghhhsstuff]

forever obsessed with percy being weird. off-putting. strange even. a cryptid maybe. an urban legend if I may. my boy is the son of one of the oldest, most powerful gods, has been in FBI's records since the age of twelve, fought and won two wars against immortal beings, went to hell and back. I think he's allowed to be a little odd.

[lilislegacy]

mr. chase: i understand why you’re mad. and you’re right, i failed her. but you must know, she means a great deal to me.

percy: yeah? well she means everything to me.

[minjimunji]

One of my favorite moments from the last olympian 😋

[somewhereincairparavel]

To the people saying "Jason wouldn't have jumped into tartarus for Piper, like Percy did for Annabeth" as a way to demean him. Jason, plunged into the sky from the grand canyon to catch Piper in the first few pages of the lost hero without even knowing who she was, and without the knowledge that he could fly. so he basically jumped to his death attempting to catch her. In the first few pages of his journey, he didn't mind dying to save Piper, and ironically, that's also what he did in the last few pages of his journey. Y'all just be making the most out of pocket claims abt jason fr

[aylendoesart]

Nico in the jar

[percabethconvos]

Grover: So I'm curious, what's Annabeth's 'love language'?

Percy:...

Percy: Asking

Grover: Asking?

Percy: Yeah. You should've seen how happy she got the other day when I asked her about the construction of the Pantheon's dome

[ineedibuprofen]

“This is a stupid idea,” Jason says, uncomfortable in the wooden chair.

“Shut up,” Thalia says, “This is a great idea.”

“This was Percy’s idea. Therefore, it’s a stupid one.”

Percy indignantly frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, “Hey! That’s just mean. Discrimination, I say. I’m literally neurodivergent and a minor, it’s not my fault. Besides, my ideas aren’t really that bad.”

Jason and Thalia both snort at the same time and – that’s a little rude, honestly, because Percy has saved their asses how many times, thank you very much? They were just being jerks. As usual. Percy flips them off.

He watches as Thalia reaches for the plastic, black bottle, the stupid on-brand Splat! hair dye. Percy tried to tell them that Splat! actually sucked ass, a fact he knew because of a long story involving Connor Stoll and coconut-scented conditioner, but of course, they didn’t listen to him. It feels a little bit like a cosmic joke; A child of Zeus helps a child of Jupiter get his hair dyed while a child of Poseidon watches… What could possibly go wrong? Thalia puts some of the coloring in a little purple bowl with a handle, mixes it with the synthetic-bristled brush, and then grins.

“Ta-da. The first step is finished. Now comes the fun part.”

Jason’s “blonde, luxurious locks” (according to Leo), were currently sectioned with foil, uneven strips that were waiting for the sucky-ass hair dye, and, yeah, okay, maybe this was a bad idea. It would’ve been a good idea if Thalia knew what the fuck she was doing, and maybe Percy never dyed hair before but his mom worked at a barber shop for two years when he was nine, and he used to spend nights watching her do this. He at least had more experience than Thalia, who clearly didn’t know shit.

Jason looks like he’s having a great time, all tense shoulders and tight muscles and squeezed eyes, an apron around him and tied at the neck, his fingers tapping the chair’s armrest. He looks a bit like a cat who’s just been sprayed with water, or maybe Nico on a regular basis. Percy would’ve laughed if his blonde, luxurious locks weren’t on the line (okay, so maybe Leo was right. He definitely didn’t have to know that.)

“You’re doing great,” Percy says and it sounds like a joke even to him.

He meant it sincerely, mostly, but every time he hangs out with Thalia anything he or she says always sounds half-assed or sarcastic, and he can’t really help it. Jason kind of glares at him in the reflection of the mirror, the thick black and blue gloop mixing, despite Thalia’s weak efforts to keep them seperately.

“I literally hate you.”

“Aw,” Thalia faux-coos, “At least he cares enough to have an opinon.”

“Both of you. I literally hate both of you.”

Percy and Thalia laugh (cackle), the latter so much so that it messes up the dye job (even more, impossibly), and she ends up smearing it across Jason’s forehead and mixing all of the colors (which was probably inevitable anyway). Jason yells at Thalia for what feels like the next hour, and Percy can’t stop laughing or interrupting with stupid comments and Thalia feebly protests and fails miserably at her only job. Percy almost doesn’t feel like a child of the Gods, for a moment, feels almost normal. Weird.

In the end, when their finished and they’ve stained every possible surface either black or blue or a wierd grayish purple color, Jason’s hair looks a bit like a bird who just ate blue food coloring has taken a dump on Jason’s head, and it’s permanent dye, and he’s adamant against bleaching it, which means he’s stuck it with for the next who knows how long. This is apparently bad news, according to Jason, but according to Thalia and Percy it’s the funniest thing they’ve seen in a long time. They’re about to get tons of blackmail photos and showing it to their friends is gonna be worth every one of Jason’s oddly creative insults.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Percy laughs, “Bro, you look so bad."

Jason flips them off again as he and Thalia high five but, really, what can he do? He's the one with the bad dye job.

jason grace ABSOLUTELY deserves to go through a hair-dye phase and fuck you all who disagree

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico referring to his mom as "Mama" implies he most likely at least used to refer to Hades as "Papa" and i 100% headcanon he still does but mostly in the manner of him having the entire Underworld wrapped around his finger for being the baby of the family

[miss-americanbi]

seeing the next generation of kids falling in love with pjo, fighting over godly parents, posting shitty headcanons on instagram… feels like passing a torch fr

[demigods-posts]

i'm one hundred percent certain that after percy and annabeth made out underwater. and he wanted to make their relationship official. the question was not "will you be my girlfriend?" but "can i be your boyfriend?" i don't care what the canon says. percy gave annabeth the space to take the lead in the relationship. because after a lifetime of being abandoned by everyone she dared to care for. and then watching her on the brink of a panic attack at the thought of losing him the last four years. he wanted to honor a new beginning between them by follow her lead and moving at her pace.

[1800-lemon-boy]

Friendly reminder that Nico Di Angelo as a child, loved pirates and Greek mythology.

Imagine a 10 year old Nico getting excited that the Greek gods exist, then finding out that he gets to learn how to sword fight just like pirates do. (He was so excited he ended up cutting his leg resulting in a scar)

And now imagine all that excitement disappear when he learns that he can never show his big sister what he learnt.

<33

[lilislegacy]

*percy seen from a far, wearing a suit*

piper: do my eyes deceive me or is percy jackson wearing formal clothes? since when does he have the ability to look like a domesticated human being?

frank: how come HE, percy of all people, king of untidiness, can wear a cream linen suit and look like a celebrity, but when i tried one on i looked like a man-child going to a high school dance?

hazel: sweetie it’s just because it’s such a casual suit, and you’re much more elegant than percy is!

annabeth, turning to them: um okay, hi percy’s best friends? can you guys compliment him without insulting him?

leo: his ass looks incredible.

grover: has he been working out?

annabeth, side eyeing them:

annabeth: okay, you have all now either insulted him or hit on him. how about from now on, you do neither?

rachel: how about we do both? because i’ve actually just perfected doing them at the same time

[chickypooky]

PJO Heights

The people have spoken: Final consensus of heights from the polls