3po-r2d2

[3po-r2d2]

The Isle’s Light Pt. 2

I kinda skip around a lot.

sorry not, sorry 😜

Family Day had always felt like a foreign concept to Ama — too bright, too full of hugs and smiles that didn’t seem to exist back on the Isle. The courtyard of Auradon Prep was buzzing with laughter, chatter, and royal families gathering beneath silk-draped tents and tables overflowing with food.

Ama stood off to the side, her back to a tall marble column, trying to become invisible. Her dark curls hung around her face like a curtain, and her hands nervously twisted the edge of her sweater sleeves.

She didn’t want to be noticed. Not as Hades’ daughter. Not as another kid from the Isle.

“Hello,” said a soft voice beside her.

Ama startled and looked to her right — and froze.

Standing there was a woman draped in a flowing gown of petal-pink and gold, her eyes a shade of green that reminded Ama of springtime after a long winter. Her presence radiated warmth like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked gently.

Ama swallowed, heart pounding. “I… I’m Ama. Amaranth.”

A soft smile spread across the woman’s face. “You’re Persephone,” Ama breathed, almost reverently.

“I am,” she replied with a nod. “And you’re Hades’ daughter, aren’t you?”

Ama hesitated, then nodded slowly.

“You look like him,” Persephone said kindly.

Ama’s gaze dropped, arms wrapping around herself. “Like a villain,” she mumbled.

Persephone’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, she reached out and gently tucked a curl behind Ama’s ear. “No, love. Like someone who loves fiercely.”

Ama blinked, taken aback.

Persephone tilted her head, her expression open and warm. “Would you like to meet the rest of your family?”

Ama hesitated. Her heart clenched at the offer, at the possibility. But then the fear crept back in like a familiar shadow. “They won’t like me,” she whispered. “I’m just… a villain kid.”

Persephone’s eyes softened with understanding, but she didn’t press. Instead, she held out her hand with a patient smile. After a long pause, Ama took it.

Later, after introductions had been made — to a host of shimmering, radiant beings, gods and demigods adorned in colors brighter than anything Ama had ever worn — the kindness began to fray. Whispers. Raised brows. One of the gods — someone golden and aloof — spoke just loud enough to be heard.

“Curious they let her out of the Underworld,” he said, a sneer hidden beneath courtly tone. “And to think they called us divine.”

“She reeks of shadow,” muttered another.

Ama shrank inward, staring at the ground, wishing she could disappear.

“That’s enough,” Persephone said sharply, her gentle voice suddenly iron-clad. “She is part of this family, whether you approve or not.”

Ama’s voice came barely above a whisper. “I should go.”

“No, petal,” Persephone said quickly, turning toward her. “You belong here.”

Ama gave a small, strained shrug. “It’s fine. You’re not at fault. They are who they are.”

“To them,” she continued, eyes glassy, “I’ll always be the kid of a villain.”

Persephone placed a hand on her shoulder, steady and warm. “And to me, you’re someone brave enough to stand in the light.”

Ama didn’t answer, but her fingers curled slightly toward Persephone’s hand — not holding, not ready. But not letting go either.

It was a start.

[3po-r2d2]

Silver Strings and Seafoam Skies Pt. 3

Part Three: A Promise in the Moonlight

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Romance, Domestic Fluff, Found Family, Bittersweet Joy

Word Count: ~1,800

Years had passed since the night Artemis stepped down from the stars to claim you.

Camp Half-Blood had changed. So had you.

The Hermes kids who once clung to your skirts were taller now, some even counselors. Percy still got called “Dad,” though now it was more teasing than reverent. You still cared for the littlest campers, but now they helped you fold laundry and patch skinned knees.

You were no longer unsteady in your place.

You were home.

“Are you sure?” Percy asked, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you stood outside a little house tucked into the Vermont woods.

You nodded slowly. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She’ll be proud of you,” he said softly. “How could she not be?”

You gave him a small smile and reached up to fix the curl falling into his eyes. “Stay close?”

“Always.”

He took your hand, and you knocked.

Your mother looked exactly the same—tired but radiant, wise-eyed, and warm. The moment she saw you, the books in her arms tumbled to the ground.

“(Y/N)?” Her voice broke.

You flew into her arms.

The hug was long and trembling. She whispered, “My baby,” again and again into your hair. “You wrote letters, but I never knew if you were safe—”

“I’m okay. I’m really okay.”

And Percy?

He stood quietly by the door, hands in his pockets, giving you space—until your mom spotted him and narrowed her eyes.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

He straightened a little. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You hurt her and I swear—”

“Mom!”

But she was already pulling him into a hug.

The three of you spent the day together—tea, old stories, soft laughter echoing in the kitchen. Percy helped patch up a leaky faucet. You helped organize your mom’s books, all still stacked with little silver bookmarks she used when she was pregnant with you.

At one point, she brought out a box of baby things—tiny onesies, a crescent moon mobile, and a photo of her cradling you under the pale glow of Artemis’s blessing.

“She gave you to me,” she whispered. “And I never stopped thanking her.”

“I hope I’ve done okay,” you said softly.

“You’ve done more than okay.” She cupped your cheek. “You’ve loved. You’ve led. You’ve stayed kind.”

She looked at Percy, then back at you.

“You chose well.”

The proposal wasn’t elaborate.

You were just sitting by the lake back at camp, his hoodie around your shoulders, your feet dangling in the water. He watched you for a long time.

Then he reached into his pocket and held out a simple ring—silver, like Artemis’s light, with a sea-green gem glinting faintly.

“I want to marry you,” he said. “Not because I’m supposed to. Because I’ve always known it was you.”

You didn’t cry right away.

You just leaned in, wrapped your arms around him, and whispered, “Yes. Yes, Percy.”

And then you cried together.

The wedding was small.

You wore a soft white dress, not extravagant—simple, elegant, with lace that shimmered like moonlight.

Camp Half-Blood cleared the strawberry fields just for you. Grover strung wildflowers between the trees. Piper helped with your hair. Annabeth insisted on the seating charts (“Gods are terrible guests—trust me, don’t let Dionysus sit near Ares.”).

The children—your children—ran barefoot, carrying flower petals and chasing butterflies.

And Artemis?

She stood on the hilltop.

Distant. Watching.

Not angry.

Just… still.

Before the vows, you slipped away from the crowd and climbed to her.

She turned only when you stood beside her. “You look beautiful.”

You swallowed. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I had to see it,” she said. “To believe someone could choose love this gently.”

“I love him,” you whispered. ���But I never stopped loving you. Not as a daughter.”

Artemis said nothing for a long moment. Then she reached into the air and drew down a thread of light, cool and silver.

A necklace. A pendant of the moon.

“For protection,” she said, slipping it around your neck. “For memory. For you.”

And before you could speak again, she vanished with the wind.

Percy’s vows made everyone cry.

Yours made everyone sob.

He said you reminded him of the ocean—endless, steady, full of hidden depth.

You said he made you feel like you could be brave without changing who you were.

He kissed you slowly, gently, with every promise you’d both ever made stitched into the space between your hearts.

And the sky shimmered faintly as seafoam and starlight blended.

That night, you sat under the stars, barefoot in your wedding dress, Percy beside you.

“Hey,” he said. “Mrs. Jackson.”

You snorted. “Shut up.”

He grinned, then rested his head against yours. “You ever think we’d make it this far?”

You thought about the girl you used to be. The quiet, unseen shadow at camp. The girl too afraid to call herself anyone’s.

Then you looked at your husband.

And you whispered, “Yes.”

AN/

it’s not over unless you want it to be. Give me your feedback please and thank you 😊

[3po-r2d2]

The Isle’s Light

Paring:Harry Hook x Hades daughter OC

Ama (OC) has been chosen to go to Auradon but she has to leave her loved ones behind.

The wind tugged softly at the tattered flags above the docks of the Isle as Amaranth curled closer to Harry Hook’s chest. The salty air filled the space between them, but it wasn’t the sea that weighed heavy in the silence — it was the looming goodbye.

“I don’t want to go,” Ama whispered, voice trembling as she rested her head against the rough fabric of his coat. Her fingers gripped the edges tightly, afraid to let go.

Harry sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark hair as he tightened his hold around her small frame. “I know, Ama. I know. But at least there you’ll be safe and fed. Away from all this… harshness.”

Ama’s eyes flickered up to meet his, shimmering with a mix of fear and frustration. “Yeah. And lonely. And hated.” The words fell like stones, heavy and cold.

Harry’s jaw clenched. “No one will treat you like that. I’ll make sure of it. You’re stronger than you think — softer maybe, but not weak. The Isle just hasn’t been kind to gentle hearts.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled, the scent of the sea and leather grounding her. “Will you… come for me? If I need you?”

A slow smile tugged at Harry’s lips, though his eyes remained serious. “Always, Ama. You’re not alone. Never will be.”

They stayed like that, two souls tethered in the quiet storm of farewell, until the time came for Ama to step away toward Auradon, where the Core Four waited, and her new life would begin.

But Harry Hook’s promise hung in the air — a shield of protection, forged in love and loyalty, no matter the distance.

AN/ I would love feedback. I also have more characters to this fic if you would want to reader more. Just let me know!😊

[3po-r2d2]

Title: Silver Strings and Seafoam Skies Pt. 2

Part Two: Moonlit Trials

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Divergent

Word Count: ~1,500

The moment you and Percy held hands during the Summer Solstice celebration at Camp Half-Blood, something shifted.

You felt it.

So did Olympus.

The sky trembled with the weight of divine scrutiny. Campfires flickered unnaturally. The wind stilled. The gods were watching.

“They’re talking about you,” Nico murmured to Percy the next morning, sitting under the shade of Thalia’s tree.

Percy stiffened beside you.

“Who?” you asked quietly, voice barely above the rustle of the leaves.

“Everyone,” Nico said. “They’re not happy.”

“Because I’m unclaimed?”

“No,” Nico said slowly. “Because you’re claimed, even if Artemis won’t say it. And now you’re with Percy. Some of them think you’re sacred. Others think you’re dangerous.”

You swallowed. Percy laced your fingers through his. “They can’t hurt her,” he said firmly. “I won’t let them.”

Nico didn’t argue. “Then prepare to prove it.”

The trial—they didn’t call it that, but everyone knew what it was—came two days later.

The gods didn’t appear in their full glory. Just voices, presences, summoned on the sacred hilltop. The sky darkened. Thunder rumbled in a cloudless sky.

Chiron stood nearby, stiff with tension.

Dionysus sipped his Diet Coke and muttered, “Drama.”

Then they spoke.

Zeus first: “She is a mortal given divine essence. It sets a dangerous precedent.”

Hera: “She nurtures demigods. She holds too much influence.”

Athena: “Unclaimed, unbound, yet powerful. A risk.”

Poseidon didn’t speak. He was watching his son.

Then Artemis’s voice rang out, clear and cold as silver.

“She is mine.”

The air turned to ice.

For the first time, you saw her.

She stepped through moonlight like it was water, silver eyes unblinking, bow slung across her back. She was taller than you remembered from childhood dreams. Wilder. Fierce.

But when she looked at you—really looked at you—it wasn’t disdain.

It was pain.

You bowed your head instinctively. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Her hand cupped your chin gently. “You have never needed to apologize to me.”

Your throat closed. “You never claimed me.”

Artemis blinked slowly. “Because I loved you. And I feared what Olympus would do to that love.”

Your knees nearly buckled. Percy caught you.

The other gods stirred, unsettled.

“She loves a mortal boy,” Hera snapped. “Your vow—”

“My vow is mine to uphold,” Artemis snapped. “And I have broken none. My daughter was a gift to the mortal world. She chose love, and I do not forbid what I cannot bear to lose.”

Poseidon finally spoke. “Then the boy is responsible for her.”

“I’ve always been responsible for her,” Percy growled, stepping forward. “I protect her. Not because I was told to. Because I love her.”

A hush fell.

Then a quiet voice from behind: “She’s our mom. He’s our dad.”

The Hermes kids had come, trailed by others—small hands, hopeful eyes. Campers stood behind you, defiant, loving, fearless in their way.

Even Clarisse folded her arms and grunted, “Yeah. What he said.”

It wasn’t a war cry. It was a family.

The gods didn’t answer.

They didn’t need to.

Their silence was their retreat.

Artemis turned back to you. “I could not claim you and keep you safe. But you have always been my heart, little moon.”

You tried not to cry. You failed.

She smiled faintly. “You walk a different path. But I see now it is yours to choose.”

“And Percy?” you whispered.

She looked at him.

Percy stood tall, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“I will never forgive him if he fails you,” she said softly.

“I won’t,” Percy promised. “Ever.”

Artemis nodded once. “Then I leave her in your care. You, and the children she’s already chosen.”

Then she turned into silver mist and vanished with the rising moon.

Later that night, as you lay beside Percy near the fire, with campers snoring in tents nearby and the stars like pinpricks above, he whispered into your hair:

“She’s proud of you, you know.”

“I think… I believe you now.”

“I know it.”

You smiled.

And finally, for the first time in your life, you felt claimed.

AN

would love your feedback 🩷

[3po-r2d2]

Title: Silver Strings and Seafoam Skies

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life

Word Count: ~1,400

Camp Half-Blood was never quiet.

At least not during the day. The clang of swords, laughter from the canoe lake, and the occasional explosion from the Hephaestus cabin filled the air. But somehow, amidst all of it, there was one person who made everything feel a little softer.

You.

Shy and quiet, you were the gentle heartbeat of the camp. You didn’t draw attention to yourself in battles or during capture the flag, but you were the one younger campers ran to when they had nightmares. You bandaged knees, told bedtime stories in hushed tones, and always knew where someone’s missing teddy bear was.

They called you Mom.

Even Clarisse couldn’t argue with that. When a six-year-old from the Hermes cabin once yelled, “Mooom!” across the field and sprinted into your arms, even Dionysus snorted into his Diet Coke and muttered, “Well, that’s fitting.”

You weren’t claimed—never had been. But you were different.

A secret. A gift. Born not of mortal lust, but divine compassion.

You were Artemis’s.

Not a Hunter. Not exactly a demigod. A mortal, yes, but one formed with the divine spark of the goddess herself and given to your mortal mother, a quiet librarian in Vermont, who had never once asked for glory. Artemis had given you to her. A daughter born of stillness and moonlight, not blood.

The gods didn’t know what to do with you.

Hermes had once hissed that it wasn’t “right,” that Artemis “shouldn’t meddle like that.”

Ares had scoffed. “That’s no child of Olympus.”

But none of them dared claim you as a threat. You weren’t claimed. Not officially. Not until they tried to harm you—and Artemis’s wrath shook Olympus.

So you remained at Camp Half-Blood, in limbo, as you always had.

“You okay?”

You startled, the half-folded blanket in your hands falling into the laundry bin. You looked up and met sea-green eyes.

Percy.

He’d been watching you. Again.

You swallowed. “I—yes. I’m just—tired.”

He tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing. “You’ve been folding sheets for like an hour.”

“I like helping.” You offered him a small smile. “The Apollo cabin is understaffed with Chiron out.”

He stepped forward, lowering his voice. “You know you don’t have to do everything yourself, right?”

Your heart gave a tiny, traitorous flutter. Percy always talked to you like you mattered. Not like you were some weird unclaimed anomaly, but like a person. A girl. A friend.

Maybe more.

“You always take care of everyone else,” he added gently. “Let someone take care of you for once.”

Your lips parted, words stuck in your throat. When he reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your breath caught.

“I’d like to try,” he murmured. “If you’ll let me.”

The younger campers lost their minds.

“Wait—does that mean Percy’s our dad now?” one of the Hermes kids gasped during dinner.

Percy choked on his apple.

You blushed so hard you thought your face might ignite.

But by the next morning, the title had stuck. “Mom and Dad,” they chanted when you both walked by the cabins, giggling like maniacs.

Percy pretended to hate it, but you caught the way his arm lingered around your shoulders, protective and proud. He would squeeze your hand when you got anxious, and the look he gave Clarisse when she raised her voice near you was downright scary.

You didn’t understand why he cared so much. You weren’t a hero. Not like him.

But Percy saw it. He always had.

The softness you offered—unshakable, even in the face of monsters. The strength it took to keep showing up with gentleness in a world that devoured it. You didn’t need a sword. You had lullabies, warmth, and an unbreakable core.

He loved you for that.

So did someone else.

“You think I’m a disappointment to her.”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud. You were just… sitting under the stars with Apollo one night, watching him draw constellations in the air for the littlest campers. He always made time for you. Not like the others.

He paused mid-story and turned toward you. “Who?”

You didn’t answer.

But he knew. Of course he did.

“Artemis doesn’t regret you.” His voice was quieter than usual. No cocky grin. “She gave the world something it didn’t deserve. Someone it didn’t deserve. That’s not a failure.”

You hugged your knees, eyes stinging. “She never claimed me.”

“She didn’t want the gods to make you a pawn,” he said softly. “Claiming you would’ve marked you as territory. You’re not that. You’re her child. Her gift. And she’s watching.”

You stared at the stars. “She’s mad I chose Percy.”

Apollo’s smile was bittersweet. “She’s scared. Not angry. Loving mortals… it ends in heartbreak more often than not.”

“Even if he’s a hero?”

“Especially then.”

You were quiet.

Apollo touched your shoulder gently. “But maybe you’re her lesson to the rest of us. That there’s more than war. More than pride. Maybe the girl who teaches children how to be kind is what Olympus really needs.”

You didn’t know what to say. So you leaned into him, and he let you.

Percy found you crying the next night.

He didn’t ask questions. He just held you, arms warm and safe as the waves against the shore.

“You’re enough,” he whispered against your hair. “I don’t care what the gods think. You’re enough for me.”

Your voice was small. “But what if I’m not enough for her?”

He tilted your chin up. “You are. I know it. And if she won’t say it, I will. Every day.”

And he did.

AN: hi…so this is my first fic to ever post just wondering if I should keep going.

just let me know in the comments 😁

also let me know if I should add a tag, wasn’t really sure what I was doing or what I should put.