#won by percy

[demigodpolls]

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[starii-void]

going to chb must be crazy like imagine sharing a camp with

-one of the strongest demigods ever who's saved the world like at least 3 times, fought multiple gods & titans and WON (and is a tartarus survivor)

-the literal main architect of OLYMPUS who's also saved the world multiple times (also tartarus survivor)

-THE lord of the wild who's also close friends with the first two (and has helped save the world multiple times)

-an emo kid from the 1930s who again helped save the world and is also a tartarus survivor (TWICE)

-a son of apollo who survived tartarus with nothing but cargo shorts and sheer will (pun intended)

-the main designer and builder for the argo II, also the first hephaestus kid to have fire powers since hundreds of years ago (did i mention killed gaea? no? yeah he did that too)

-a girl who somehow charmspeak-ed gaea into falling back asleep (also side note daughter of super famous actor because why not)

-pretty much everybody is a two-time war veteran

-THE GOD APOLLO who just sometimes comes down to visit in the form of a teenage boy

-did i mention dionysus, god of wine madness and theatre

-also chiron, trainer of pretty much every greek hero ever

[lice-haver]

The reason Percy and Jason fought so much in Mark of Athena was because there was no time for them to sniff each other through the door before introducing them

[bluecrocss]

Adult PJO fans: "I can't relate to her if she doesn't look like me" "this is disrespectful to book!Annabeth" "I can't see her as the same character if she's black" "blonde, white women are soooo underrepresented in media. No one else can understand 😫"

Meanwhile, the actual demographic the show and books are for:

(@/walkersriptide_ on TikTok)

-

Caveats in the tags.

[supercutszns]

a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

[haleingstorm]

What ever you do don't think about Pollux breaking all the mirrors in his cabin because he couldn't stand seeing his brother's face looking back at him.

What ever you do don't think about Connor Stoll stepping up to the head counselor role even though he was far too young for it because Travis couldn't handle it alone.

What ever you do don't think about Micheal Yew trying to always keep a smile on his face even when he was breaking apart on the inside because that was what Lee always did. Don't think about Will Solace who tries to be louder, angrier because Micheal always was. Who smiles though the pain because if he lets himself grief for even a moment he wouldn't ever stol

What ever you do don't think about how much Clarisse hates herself for staying back. Don't think about a Clarisse that knows every single Aphrodite and Apollo kid by name because the dead can not forgive her.

What ever you do don't think about Percy blaming himself for every death. Don't think about Annabeth who hates that she wasn't strong enough.

What ever you do don't think about the fact that these are CHILDREN who fought in a war.

What ever you do don't think about who had to die to make them the heroes that they are today.

[starbats13]

I’ve literally been drawing Thalia for 12 years now 😭 She’s the reason I started listening to Green Day in elementary school. So I kinda owe my entire personality to a fictional character, but I digress. I’m so excited to see her on screen (the 3 seconds we got of her in the movies does not exist to me)!

Close ups and alt versions <3

[murasaki-cha]

EVERYONE GET READY TO BECOME SUPER ANNOYING NEXT WEEK!!!!!!

WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR 85 YEARS!!!!!!!

[h0rsegirlpercy]

“This isn’t the Arch, seaweed brain”

[zmorowanie]

drew girlboss gaslight gatekeep

[demigodpolls]

feel free to explain your answer, and follow for daily PJO polls + fandom creator content! 💎🌊🗡️⚡

(do you read PJO fanfiction? demigodpolls is seeking input from fanfic readers to compile a collection of the best stories published/updated this year! see this post to share the best fanfics you've read of 2024!)

[amesliu]

take what you want and go (pop-punk!percy @strungoutheart)

[sunshines-child]

Angelo

[dandelion-blues]

#7 What if...

Kronos was a somewhat good grandpa?

Percy couldn't say he was relieved when Luke took that knife to himself, there was too much pain in death for that to be the case.

But nonetheless, in that deep seated exhaustion that wove in his very bones, Percy just wanted everything to be over.

Then, as Luke lay dying, his bright blue eyes seared into Percy and made him promise to not forget about the demigods, to make the gods be better.

Percy knew his job wasn’t yet done, because as Luke took his last breath, the shadows overtook the throne room. The hearth just mere embers, and a magical laugh echoed around the chambers.

Annabeth was crying over Luke’s corpse and didn't seem to notice anything wrong in her grief, but Percy did. He always noticed, even though Annabeth would most likely disagree.  She does call him Seaweed Brain after all. But just because Percy doesn't speak up about what he notices doesn’t mean he's dumb.

It's why, when his instincts screamed at him, he raised his sword just as a great metal scythe came sweeping down at him.

“Oh, grandson. I long since outgrow that boy's body, but you fought brilliantly. But now I am back at full power, you will not be able to stop me as you are. Still, for you to not only sense my strike, but stop it… I knew you were special. You really should have joined my side,” Kronos says, his words like honey, as he presses his scythe down upon Percy’s sword. Golden cracks were seeping from Kronos’ bronze skin, showing his divinity leaking through.

Percy snarled, his green eyes blazing with fury, “I'd rather die!”

And Percy looked over to Annabeth for help, but she was not moving, her tears frozen in time on her cheeks.

Percy froze in fear, his heart pounding. Kronos was no longer in Luke's body and his powers restricted. Kronos had his own body now, and his abilities were restored.

However, Percy’s freezing was a fatal mistake, as Kronos pressed on with more force forcing Percy’s sword from his hand.

Percy looked up, his eyes wide in fear as he stared in Kronos golden orbs.

Except as Percy’s sword came clanging to the ground and Kronos swung his scythe. The titan leveled the blade just against his throat.

Kronos croons, “Don’t worry grandson. I couldn’t possibly kill you when I see so much of myself and Rhea in your eyes.”

Percy startles and flinches as Kronos touches Percy’s face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Percy says, but then he feels a pinch on the back of his neck, and everything fades to black.

The last thing he hears is Kronos’ voice comforting him…

~~~

Kronos at first hated all these mortal pests that had the blood of gods in their veins.

Mortals weren’t worthy of such a gift.

Unfortunately, Kronos needed to play along with the pests' plans in order to revive.

However, how he started to view these pests, or rather just one pest, changed when he met the son of his Poseidon, his grandson, Perseus Jackson.

Perseus was different then the other pests - demigods. He was just twelve when Kronos first slipped in his dreams, and already Pereus was powerful, defiant, but then Kronos saw his eyes, Rhea's eyes. Kronos could barely stomach it when he swallowed Poseidon, his son with Rhea's eyes.

But now it seems that another inherited her eyes. The one who would be the doom or savior of Olympus. And should die when he was sixteen.

No, this one would not be the one to fulfill the prophecy. He couldn't be.

Kronos sent the boy nightmares, hoping he would pray to his father. That Poseidon would scue the boy. Except that never happened.

And so the next thing that Kronos could do was set his vessel to poison the daughter of Zeus, so a quest would be sent and the Golden Fleece would be retrieved to not only help heal him, but the daughter of Zeus as well, so she would be the one to fulfill the prophecy.

Of course, everything went downhill from there and that daughter of Zeus ran away from the prophecy and gave it to his grandson.

Huh? When did Kronos start thinking of Perseus as his grandson? From the moment he saw Rhea's eyes.

And after his grandson saved Artemis and by holding Atlas’ weight the gods voted to kill his grandson!

As if he hasn't already saved them and proven himself before!

It made Kronos resolve to tear Olympus down all the more.

And so, even as he had to fight his grandson to do so, he would, for Perseus for power.

Of course no one but Kronos himself knew that he would never mortally injure the boy. It's why when his scythe, which is said to suck the life from one's soul, struck, Perseus was merely fatigued.

And Kronos regularly asked for updates on how Perseus is doing from that daughter of Aphrodite.

It's how he found out Perseus’ powers were growing every day, he was long on his way to ascending.

Oh, and how that daughter of Athena was trying to shackle his grandson to mortality by seducing Perseus of all things. As if that girl would ever be good enough for his grandson! She, he always calls him stupid, and tests him at every opportunity. No! Kronos would not stand for that!

Then, the final battle came. Unfortunately his spy turned traitor and died, but it didn't matter because the battle lines were drawn. And Perseus was practically glowing in his divinity.

It would be soon!

Perseus made his choice, but it was too late to stop Kronos, for he was already healed.

And Kronos fought Perseus one on one. The boy didn't even notice that he glowed, his veins golden. Too fueled by anger to stop and think why he could still move when Kronos stopped time, and that daughter of Athena did not.

Unfortunately, when he noticed that time was stopped all around him, the boy froze, and Kronos took the advantage.

And when Kronos saw the wide eyed fear in those green eyes he reassured him that he would not kill him. How could he, when he came to care for the boy?

However, Perseus startles and flinches as Kronos goes to comfort the boy by face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, knowing the boy is too brainwashed by the gods and too young to understand, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Perseus says, but Kronos swiftly pinches a nerve on the boy's neck, and the boy slumps forward into his open arms.

Kronos whispers to his grandson comfortably and holds him like a little one to his chest, “Don't worry, I'll take care of you, my grandson.”

Notes:

Whelp! At least Kronos doesn't want Percy to die. Maybe he'll even do alright with being the new prince of the Titans.

First - Previous - Next "What if...?"

[supercheesecakemiracle]

2023-24 winter hit me like a TRUCK with old fandoms, I'm reading the hunger games, I'm watching percy jackson, I'm listening to the magnus archives again like WHAT

The last straw is if someone looks me dead in the eyes and says 'the Yuri on Ice movie is finally releasing'

[pjo-tvs-version]

Okay so, I wrote a fanfic for the first time! It's Annabeth's pov of the Mt. St. Helens kiss!

You kiss me and it stops time

The air was hot and my hands were greasy from the sweat and grime of Mt. St. Helens. I sat, invisible obviously, trying to decipher what exactly those dog faced stubby footed and half flippered beings were doing. Telekhines, I was sure was the name of these creatures, were hammering something that looked like a blade. As I paid a little more attention, there was a huge container with a glistening liquid. I wondered what it was just when I heard someone shouting “Annabeth” and the sound of running footsteps.

Seaweed Brain of course it has to be. From the look on his face and the desperation in his voice, I figured out that something most probably had gone terribly wrong. Nothing surprising though, I got used to it after the quest for Zeus’ lightning bolt. It was one of the first few things a demigod learns. On a mission everytime everything goes wrong. A sense of irritation arose in me. Why was Percy being an idiot by just giving away our presence?

In an attempt to shut him up, I clamped his mouth with one hand and tackled him with the other hand behind the huge cauldron. All this time I forgot that I was actually invisible so I deduced that Percy most probably would have been a little shocked when an invisible being just wrestled him. He reached up, trying to find my Yankees cap most probably to find me. That was an extremely dumb thing for him to do- giving away both of us. As he removed my cap, I shimmered into existence no doubt with a scowl adorning on my face. How can this boy be this stupid?

“We're going to have company,” Percy said. He breathlessly summarised his side of the story. The Telekhines were blabbering through their snouts. We peeked over the cauldron. In the centre of the platform stood four sea demons, but these were fully grown, at least eight feet tall. Their black skin glistened in the firelight as they worked, sparks flying as they took turns hammering on a long piece of glowing hot metal.

“The blade is almost complete,” one said. “It needs another cooling in blood to fuse the metals.” “Aye,” a second said. “It shall be even sharper than before.”

“What is it?” Percy whispered. I shook my head. “They keep talking about fusing metals. I wonder—” I was thinking out loud, a distant myth tugging in my memory. “They were talking about the greatest Titan weapon,” Percy said. “And they…they said they made my father’s trident.”

Then it clicked. Of course I remembered exactly what I read about them. “The Telekhines betrayed the gods,” I said. “They were practising dark magic. I don’t know what, exactly, but Zeus banished them to Tartarus.” “With Kronos,” Percy added. A chill suddenly entered into the air amidst the heat of the forge at the name of The Lord of Time. I nodded my head, “We have to get out-.”

No sooner had I even uttered the obvious than the door to the classroom exploded and young Telekhines came pouring out. They stumbled over each other, trying to figure out which way to charge. We were in serious danger now because there were too many for me and Percy to take down. A familiar desperation was creeping in me when Percy shouted “Put your cap back on, Get out.” Just then I realised what he was intending to do - giving me a chance to escape by sacrificing himself. Curse his fatal flaw of loyalty.

“I’ve got a plan. I’ll distract them. You can use the metal spider—maybe it’ll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what’s going on.” he tried to reassure me.

A plan? With the fear in his sea green eyes and lines of his forehead I was sure that it was a plain lie. I was not going to have any of this. How could he expect me to just leave him like that? Helplessly, I tried to knock some sense into his head of kelp.

“But you’ll be killed!” “I’ll be fine. Besides, we’ve got no choice.” Percy replied, pushing me. I glared at him, the same glare I used to win any argument against him. Each time I won and he backed down. But as I stared at his face, I was met with a determined pair of eyes daring me. As I miserably understand the odds of the mess we were in, curse my Athena heritage for that. I realise that Percy’s “plan” is the only option possible. Someone has to get to Hephaestus to tell him about the illegal residents of his forge. I registered his face. I stared into his sea green eyes, reflecting the ocean and his jet black tousled hair.

My feelings overwhelm me and I hear Janus’ foreboding words “Choose, Annabeth.” I guess because of literally everything around me and especially the beautiful face in front of me,I did something so impulsive that I couldn't even believe I did it. Before I even knew what I was doing, I grabbed Percy’s shirt and leaned forward. His breath hitched and our lips met. The heat, grime, sweat and even those wretched Telekhines disappeared for a moment. Our eyelids fluttered against each other and my eyes were shut. I pressed against his lips and oh gods was I melting.

I tried to put everything I didn't say to him, everything I ever wanted to say to him in thatone kiss. Please don’t die now because of me, please don’t die because of the Great Prophecy.His lips were salty and I ran my hands through his messy hair.

I pulled away, knowing that I should not be endangering our lives because of my unreciprocated feelings. He didn't do anything and I had a feeling that what I did was something he perhaps wouldn't have appreciated. Why, oh why, does a little part of me imagine that he too leaned in just at the second I pulled away? I was blushing for sure and my cheeks were heating up. I pulled up my invisibility cap to shield myself from the embarrassment.

“Be careful Seaweed Brain” I managed to choke out the words and I ran. But not without looking back to see his face wide open, gaping as in amazement. It lit a little glimmer of hope in me. Maybe, just maybe, he liked me too.

The metal spider was bolting into the tunnels. I sped behind it as I could afford to lose it from my sight. My heart was a bag of jumbled emotions and my brain was overwhelmed by my many thoughts. I continue to sprint, tears running down my cheeks knowing that I sealed Percy’s fate. It was my fault that I took him in this quest knowing the prophecy’s last line. It was my fault that I left him with the Telekhines knowing that they would kill him. However I hug a little tiny string of hope that he will survive now and beyond the age of sixteen too.

Just then I hear a scream. A horrible, reverberant, bloodcurdling scream. Percy’s pain and desperation was very much present and that one terrifying scream caused that little string to tear. Percy would die because of me. He would leave me as everyone has, leave me all on my own. I forced myself to run behind the spider even when my knees threatened to crash to the ground. I couldn't let Percy’s sacrifice go to waste. I continue running into the baleful labyrinth, engulfing me with its darkness.

Hope you enjoyed! It is my first fic so please be gentle. I couldn't have done it without @helpallthenamesaretakenblog assurances and @percabethlvr editing! Positive criticism is very much appreciated. The title is from the song, Say Don't Go by none other than Taylor Swift. Thank you so much!!! ❤❤❤

Also on AO3: You kiss me and it stops time